#i can play chess (<- cannot name the pieces)

[anonbinaryweirdo]

help how does one play checkers im curious

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.

[writingsofwesteros]

i saw that requests are open now! hopefully im not too late, cause i love your writing.

can i request more aemond x innocent reader? maybe daemon and rhaenyra’s daughter, who he is completely obsessed with. six years and he cannot take it anymore, so he flies to dragonstone and sneaks in to fuck and breed her, so that she end ups getting betrothed to him 🫣

AN: Hi, I hope you like it . Some Aemond for you all x

NSFW

“You have to be quiet.” Aemond whispered into your ear; his hand gently around your mouth and muffling the cries of pleasure threatening to escape you. Your eyes were wide and locked onto him as the Prince pulled you against his bare chest. Your soft, ample breasts bouncing with his jerking of his hips. 

“Good girl.” The Prince hummed and lent in to begin hotly mouthing at your soft neck. Your soft spot allows him to take control. His hand moved over your bulging stomach; pushing down on you. Two of his fingers slipped inside your hot, drooling mouth as his thick cock pushed deeper inside you.

You bounced on his fat cock again and again; his head brushing against your soft spot with ease. Your moans easily muffled by him had Aemond chuckling darkly into your ear. Your mouth watering scent moving over him. “Fuck..you are so good.” He whispered his praises easily to you.

The sound of bodies slapping against each other continued to echo around the room as he quickened his pace. His hand slowly moved down your stomach; his slender fingers brushing over your sensitive pussy. Your walls spasmed around his cock whilst his thumb slowly circled your clit.

Your legs began to shake as you locked eyes with him once more. Aemond’s smirk still on his face. Your eyes were rolling back once more as he thrust deeper. “Going to have you full of my babe soon.” He whispered into your ear and all you could do was whimper and stare with such wide eyes.

Aemond pushed his fingers deeper inside your mouth; your gagging had his cock twitching inside you. “Can’t…” You babbled against his palm, which only seemed to anger Aemond some more. He pushed you down onto the bed; your face burrowing into the pillows in front of you as he fucked you hard.

He harshly palmed at your arse as he looked down. His bright eyes widening in pleasure as he watched his fat cock push inside you again and again. All you could do was take it; slowly moving back against him. Your soft, ample breasts bouncing with each movement as your walls fluttered around him.

His slender fingers returned to your sensitive clit and began to pinch in punishment. Your gasps are still muffled by the pillow before you. “Aemond…” You whimpered out breathlessly; your moans of pleasure escaping you. Aemond couldn’t hold back any longer. His grunts of pleasure echoing.

“Good girl..so good..”  Aemond whispered into your ear. His body on top of you as his release came over him. His cum flooded your weeping pussy as his hand roughly rubbed against your clit. You cried out his name; this time it echoed around the room as you thrashed around in his hold.

His hand slowly moved to your stomach as you began to settle down. His dark smirk only widening.

~

“I can’t believe you have done this.” Alicent whispered. Those big, brown eyes of hers filled with disappointment. Aemond could only shrug; his carelessness coming off him in waves as the Queen stared. You began to nervously play with your fingers as you looked between the two of them.

“It will be well, mother…an alliance with this marriage.” Aemond tried to convince her as his hand reached for you. Was this all you were to him? A chess piece..a toy; those thoughts raced through your mind. It seemed the Green Queen was coming around, you thought to yourself as you watched on.

“We shall plan this then.” Alicent finally spoke as you moved into his side. The Queen is still terrifying you and you couldn’t stop your heart pounding in your ears as you watched her leave the room. “Aemond…” You softly whispered when it was just the two of you all alone. Your nervousness is only rising.

He slowly moved his head for his eye to lock onto you. The stare alone was enough to have you gulping. His hands slowly moved up and down your sides as you stayed impossibly close to him for some comfort. A near scoff escaped you at the idea of Aemond bringing anyone comfort; never mind you.

“Is there something wrong?” He hummed as if this whole situation was not wrong. Gods, he was unbelievable. A smirk tugged on his lips as he watched your face; reading your expression as easily as ever. His hand gently moved to cup your face; his thumb brushing across your still blushing cheeks.

“Nobody will accept this.” You whimpered out; your hand slowly moved over your small, swollen stomach. Aemond’s hand gently moved on top of you. His slender fingers brushing over the dress with a softer smile coming over his face. You were not sure what frightened you more, if you were honest with yourself.

“I’ll make them.” His tone was dark and had you nearly shivering as you began to chew on your bottom lip. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip as he leaned close. Gently, he rested his head on yours. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead whilst your own mind was so loud. 

You did not believe he could…not in a pleasant way anyway, you thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered. Gods, what had you done, you thought to yourself. Your heart is fluttering madly now. His lips were soon on yours as you melted against his chest; your hands moving onto him now.

His arms wrapped around you, keeping you impossibly closer. His mouth watering scent washed over you. You bowed your head; hiding into him as the height difference between the two of you was shown. Your hands slowly moved to reach his larger ones and began to play with his fingers.

Aemond’s smile only became softer as he watched your movements. Gently, the Prince brought your hand up to his lips. A soft kiss was placed on you and for a moment; everything else melted away. All the troubles you knew would come seemingly disappeared in that small moment.

[eastwindmlk]

Another dubbel dip for Jilyweek? Don't mind if I do! The continuation station will depart to a little piece of The Everything Else from TB(itb)US. This little gem does require having read the first 7 chapters for full context. If you want to the full thing is 19.6k and can be found here

Though can be enjoyed as a standalone with a little TL;DR

Lily left Hogwarts in year 3 because her parents emigrated. Years later, she is given a potions apprenticeship with one Fleamont Potter. She moves into the bedroom across the hall from James. With a little meddling of his mother, they realize their feelings for each other. But now comes the hard part. They cannot be together until she is no longer his father's apprentice.

Once again, thank you to @kay-elle-cee and @sunshinemarauder for making all this possible and enabling me to dip back into this.

1.5k under the cut!

It was one of those quiet nights where Lily wanted to do nothing more than waste away her hours brewing. Staring down a cauldron, working towards her graduation, towards not having to sneak around any longer. Afraid to be caught sleeping with her teacher’s son.

But tonight she was barred from the lab and under strict instructions of her her potions master to enjoy herself.

The problem was, she really had no idea what or how.

Initially the redhead had planned go down into town, have a drink at the pub and maybe beat some of the old men at darts. Something that she’d been known to do from time to time. Her name now standing proudly near the top of the leaderboard. But she was about to shimmy into her one dressy skirt as the sky broke open.

Now, could she still slip and slide her way down the hill and have a good time? Sure. But she also could slip and slide her way right into the A&E, which was not something that she was all too keen on.

Which meant she was going to have to make new plans that did not require her to leave the Potter estate.

Lily’d wandered the hallways for a while, making idle chatter with some of the paintings before winding her way up to the small library. In the hopes of finding James there, reading or playing chess with himself. She even found him playing with Sirius over an enchanted mirror once or twice. She usually would slip out of the room before either of them would notice.

But she had no such luck. The room was empty, the fire dying in the hearth.

That was something to do, she supposed, finding the little rack of tools beside the fireplace, picking up the poker. Hoping to bring some life back to the flames, watching the embers glow and crackle at her insistence. Slowly but surely they were spurred into coming alive.

It was then, with her eyes trained on the embers that she remembered James talking about being out for a Quidditch match. She’d even sulked about the the fact that he was going to be out the whole night.

Lily reached up, letting her fingers linger on the spot on her jaw he’d kissed before leaving her with the promise of more when he returned.

When the flames danced brighter now as she placed a few more logs onto it. The warmth of the flames pleasant.

Lily took a deep breath, letting the quiet warmth wrapping around her like a blanket and the crackle of the fire persuading her to stay here. To curl up with a book. Research was almost as good as actually brewing.

It would not even really be ignoring instructions. She enjoyed research and just this room had enough rare books to keep her occupied for years to come. If the house had not offered another, more enticing, distraction she might have made more headway.

But alas, she would have to settle for reading whenever the distraction was too busy to distract her.

And so, gathered some pillows and one of the large throws that were in nearly every room and settled in with a modest selection of books.

Chewing on the end of her pen, Lily was studying a particularly chapter on transmutation when a folly of footfalls pulled her from her reading. Her eyes flicking to the door.

No one should be home until tomorrow. So who was in her house?

Heart hammering in her chest, she reached for her wand before remembering that she’d left it in her room. Never expecting to actually need it when she wasn’t going to be going anywhere.

Shit

Lily’s eyes darted around the room trying to find something, anything, to defend herself with. Landing on the fire and the little rack of tools that stood beside it.

She jumped to her feet just as the door began to rattle and scrambled over to grab the cast iron poker, brandishing it like a sword as she faced the door. She was determined to get at least one good wack in before she would let herself panic.

The door swung open, Lily’s eyes squeezed closed as she charged the fire poker raised up, over her shoulder going for a wide swing.

“Oh ho, ho! Careful there Little Red,” said a familiar voice, a hand wrapping around her wrist and easily stopping the momentum of her swing. “What in Gaia’s green earth are you trying to do?”

Her eyes flew open and instantly narrowed at a incredibly amused looking Sirius. “Defending myself,” she replied with a perturbed pout.

“Maybe next time keep your eyes open?”

“-Gee, thanks for that enlightened titbit,” Lily bit back, masking her embarrassment with snark and an eye roll, jerking the poker from his grip and waving it in his directions threateningly. “What are you two even doing here? I thought you were staying in Oxford.”

Her eyes shifted from Sirius to James, who clearly made an effort to not make the same mistake Sirius had and keeping his features schooled into a mask of nonchalance though he could not quite keep the glint from his eye.

James pulled up a single shoulder. Too casual to not be practised, she decided. “You sounded pretty disappointed that I wasn’t going to be around, so I thought we’d move our evening here.”

He said this with such nonchalance, like it wasn’t the most thoughtful thing a boy – man – had ever done for her. And without her even having to ask. It filled her with a warmth that spread from her chest, like a tight embrace.

So distracted by the little gesture by the casualness of it all that she almost forgot that Sirius was there when she threw her arms around James, their lips smashing together unceremoniously for a desperate kiss with too much tongue and teeth but neither of them seemed to care.

It wasn’t until Sirius cleared his throat that she let her eyes leave James’, keeping an arm around him. “Can I help you, Padfoot?” she snipped, turning her nose skyward when he chuckled.

“No, no by all means go on,” Sirius teased in return and gave them a superior look. “I was just under the impression you two were waiting for after graduation. New plan?”

Lily nodded doubtful, James eagerly.

Sirius snorted, giving his head a shake. “Good to see we are all agree here.” He wrapped his arm around the pair of them, the fire poker now laying discarded by the door and he steered them towards the couch. Wedging himself between them, much to the dismay of both of them.

“You two get to cuddle up when you decide what the plan is,” he informed them. Lily couldn’t help but groan, knowing full well this would end up in another argument.

Still, she took a deep breath and answered. “The new plan is the old plan, just because we fell off the wagon once, doesn’t mean we can’t give it another try.”

She could hear James scoff and she knew he was giving her a deadpan stare, not that she was going to look at him and give him the satisfaction of her flustering as he added. “Right, once. Every other day, sometimes twice a day.”

He wasn’t wrong, but hearing him say it like that sounded so much worse than she had compartmentalized it as. Maybe they did have a problem. “Right, maybe it is a bigger commitment than we anticipated, but I am sure we can rise to the occasion.”

“I think James is rising to several occasions by the sound of it,” Sirius quipped and coughed as Lily elbowed him in the side. Offering him her best glaring side eye.

James just laughed and she wanted to be annoyed at it, but is was just too damn funny.

She had to stifle a laugh as she leaned her head against Sirius’s shoulder. “Damn you, Black,” she made a poor attempt at not laughing at the innuendo.

“As long as nothing rises while I’m still in the room, I don’t really see the issue,” Sirius added with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re both adults, legally speaking,” he paused to give James a look that made her wonder what inside joke she was missing before continuing “, you can make your own decisions.”

Lily was about to say something about her degree when she was cut off with a hand raised. “I understand the academia side of it all. I am not saying run and tell. I am saying, maybe just stop pretending to each other.”

Lily couldn’t help but be somewhat surprised at the thoughtfulness behind the words. Somehow she never quite expected the Sirius Black she knew in third year to actually speak wisely. But people change.

Just as she thought that, he had to go and remind her that they might change, but not that much.

“And me. Not that you could, I could tell by this one’s stupid smirk,” he joked, wrapping an arm around James to pin him to his chest and mess up the already messy hair. Like it would make any difference.

This set the tone for the rest of the night. They filled it with cosy banter and no actual potions. Which maybe was actually what she needed after all.

[journalsouppe]

Here's one of my favorite spreads-- Professor Layton and the Curious Village!! I absolutely love this game and cannot wait to play the sequels!

Writing typed below!

Rating: 8.5/10 Played: Spring 2023 Port: HD mobile (iPad) Favorite? Y Replayable? Y Recommend? Y Series: Professor Layton

Comments:

That tower is insane

Omg I love the memopad, I feel like I'm on Blues Clues

I love the mystery surrounding the tower

omg are we building a robot dog?? -> yes <3 Hot Dog

Omg crash box match puzzle!! ... WHAT THE FUCK

Layton: ew this bottle is so gross. Luke stick your hand in there

What if we were germs in a glass jar and we held hands

Layton you better have Luke on a leash or smth he better not get kidnapped oh my god I am so stressed

Luke is softie for animals T^T <3

A WORM'S DREAM

STACHENSCARFEN omfg not the ace attorney name

veil of night my beloved <3

that old man is BOOKING IT

matthew is the only real one

love the chess puzzles

gorgeous grave statue

these inn items??? T-T

sewer time

Luke: don't worry professor! No one would ever dream of stealing the Layton mobile

Layton: .... Just what do you mean by that Luke

THE FERRIS WHEEL???

Omg layton in a crown

I like how all the tower puzzles are difficult

don't like the creepy lady

is everyone a robot??

YEA A LOGIC PUZZLE

the flying spike ball is insane

He just built the sail??

The ending was SO SWEET T^T

Game Dev Notes:

Beautiful animated scenes

iconic and calming music

stunning 2d art (character and environment)

great range of puzzle difficulty

interactive background and collectibles

different rewards for finishing puzzles

recap questions to see if you were paying attention to the details

great interweaving of puzzles into the story

interesting overall mystery

ability to explore both before the end and after (& gold layton if you solve everything)

Summary:

I absolutely love this game. It's so charming and sweet with a fun story surrounding puzzles. I love the characters and I love their little quips. I love the range of puzzles and how some of them have historical context. It's such a simple concept that was executed very well. Although the story isn't ground breaking, it was still really fun and shocking. It reminds me a lot of an ACD Sherlock story as it's just another one of Layton and Luke's wacky adventures. It is also set up in the perfect way to allow both sequels and prequels (which is what did happen lol). There's a ton of added replayability such as bonus puzzles, finding every furniture piece and arrangements, finding the charms, etc. It's so interactive and doesn't punish the player at all. This is an amazing puzzle game and there's no shame to not knowing the puzzle answers. You don't get full points if you mess up but that's fine as the picarats don't affect main story gameplay. I am so exccited to see how the sequels expand on the characters, especially Flora! She seems like a very unique character and I am so excited to see more of her. I am also just so happy to finally experience the beautiful music I have been listening to for years in the game. The music is so incredible and charming, it makes me want to find a nice, small European town to explore. What a great game and I am excited for what's next! Hopefully in time for the New World of Steam!

All of the stickers I got from Daiso. If you are interested in the materials I use you can check out my pinned post in my blog!

[helios-writings]

Would That I

Knight! Vash x Royalty! Reader

wc: 5.3k

Warnings: brief mentions of blood, losing an arm.

You are second in line for the throne and Vash is your personal guard, after years of pining, you confess your love and loyalty to each other, but cannot be together.

You grinned as you moved the chess piece, ending the game with a swift checkmate. Vash groaned, leaning back in his chair in defeat. You tried to look anywhere but his exposed arms and exposed throat. 

“You win again,” he told you, smiling, “I’m going to have to start practising.” 

You stood up from the chair, dusting yourself off. “Oh? And who would you practise with? You said yourself that Sir Wolfwood’s a cheat and Lady Meryl scares you too much to even try to play against her.” 

“I’ll start picking up books from the castle library.” 

The two of you walked shoulder to shoulder towards the garden’s entrance and Vash had an uncharacteristic frown on his face. 

“You’ve been quiet all day.” You told him, a hand lightly placed on his arm. You could feel his body heat through your glove. 

“I leave tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a month, at the least. Three at most.” 

“Where will you go?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, some town on the outskirts has had trouble with bandits, we’re being sent to get rid of them. Wolfwood, Milly and myself. A few others.” 

“Can I see you off?” 

“You must, I fear I’d perish without a good luck farewell from the royal highness themself.” 

Three months without your best and closest friend, the aspect made tears threaten to well up in your eyes. “Write to me?” 

He ceased his teasing and took your hand in his, clutching it to his chest, his blue eyes looking into your own. “Every week. I’ll even bring you back a souvenir.” 

“Just bring yourself back in one piece.” 

The air between the two of you was charged with something you couldn’t name, but it faded quickly when he dropped your hand and made his way back towards the barracks. 

You watch him until he disappears from your sight and you wonder how you’re supposed to sleep knowing that tomorrow morning could be the last time you see him.

***

Vash is awake before dawn, the sky still an ugly grey. He’s loath to leave your side, but knows you’ll be safe within the kingdom’s walls. He holds the horse’s reins tightly, knuckles turning white and looks out, searching for any sign of you. 

Wolfwood and Milly are atop their own horses, but it’s the former who says something. 

“We can’t wait for much longer, Vash, the other knights have already left. You sure they're coming?” 

He nodded firmly. You wouldn’t lie to him. 

Like you’d been summoned, you came tearing down the main square in our sleep clothes, a robe pulled tight around you. The sight made his heart swell. 

“Wait! Vash, don’t leave yet!” 

Milly and Wolfwood stifled their laughs as you reached them, chest heaving. “Sorry I’m late.” 

He hopped off of his horse and you pulled him into a crushing hug, burying your face in his chest. 

“Hey,” he whispered, “it’s going to be okay.”

“It doesn’t make sense to send you when you're my bodyguard.” 

“But I’m still a knight.” 

“I want you to stay here with me. What if you don’t come back?”  

He raised your head to look you in the eyes. “I would fight through a million enemies to come back to you.” 

“Remember to write to me. Please.”

Vash kissed your hand before he could decide against it. “Every week.” 

You bit your lip, like you were going to say something and then decided against it. 

“Vash, we’ve gotta go!” Milly called and he sighed. 

You grabbed his arm and you crashed your lips to his. He didn’t get a chance to revel in the feeling before you pulled away from and ran back towards the castle. Vash could feel tears on his face, but they weren’t his. 

***

The months without Vash were hard and almost too much for you to handle, but letters came every week from Vash, just like he’d promised. Every letter had a flower pressed between the pages.

Meryl, though she thought it was annoying that you kept re-reading his letters during her lessons, knew that there were few people in this world as important to you as Vash. Your own family didn’t even make the list. Being king, queen and the heir to the throne meant that they didn’t have time for you.

It was strange to be anywhere without the blonde knight, you went everywhere together. Joined at the hip, more than a normal royal and their knight should be. Where once there was laughter by your side, there was silence.

You wondered if you had ruined everything with that kiss, however brief it was. When he returned, would he even want to see you? Would he choose to return as your bodyguard? Or would he ask to be replaced, effectively never seeing you again? 

He never said anything as such in the letters, but you knew him to be a good liar, a man who never let anyone truly know what he was thinking. He never mentioned the kiss, either. 

For you, it was all you had thought about, even before. You knew you had loved Vash for a long time, maybe not love at first sight, but when you got to know him. Maybe when the both of you had turned into teens, when arms and legs were less lanky and voices were deeper. But the when didn’t matter as much as the why. When Vash was as kind and as brave as he was. Always eager to help others, no matter the cost. Even if the cost was his life. It’s why you had been so scared for him to leave, because if it had come down to saving a life and him, he would always choose the former. 

The door to the library burst open, and a guard stormed in. “Your highness, the knights have returned.” 

You stood, the books piled on your lap spilling to the ground. “Where are they?” 

“The clinic. They were all injured, but no fatalities.” 

You thanked the guard before rushing out the door. You needed to see him, needed to hold him in your hands to make sure he was actually here and safe. 

You slammed the doors to the clinic open, searching the faces for Vash. 

Wolfwood, who you didn’t know too well, approached you from the side. “Vash got a private room. Through there.” 

You thanked him, before taking off towards the closed door. When you opened it, you gasped. 

Vash was on a bed, armour stripped off, fresh scars riddling his body. He sat up slowly. “Told you I’d come back.” 

A sob tore its way out of your throat and you collapsed by his bedside. 

He took your hand in his.”Hey, it’s alright. I’m okay. It’s not even that bad.”

“You’ve been stabbed. Multiple times, how is that not bad?” 

“Well, fighting off millions of enemies to get back to you will do that.” He said with a chuckle and wince. 

“Let’s keep it to one enemy at a time.”

“I got you something.” He told you, rubbing a circle into the back of your hand. 

“You didn’t need to.” 

He shrugged, wincing again. “It reminded me of you, I had to buy it. When I can stand without help, I’ll give it to you.” 

You glanced at the closed door and leaned forward, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

Vash was silent for only a moment before he opened his mouth to say something, interrupted by the healer entering the room. 

“He’s not supposed to have visitors,” she told you, “even if they are royalty. I’m sorry.” 

You nodded and stood up. “Of course, I’ll come back when he’s ready.” 

The healer smiled as you bid her farewell and once you were outside of the clinic, you let the tears fall. He had come back to you. Just like he’d promised.

***

Vash is young when he sees you for the first time. You’re young too, but the weight on your shoulders is too heavy. Second in line for the throne but you are already weighed down by a crown you won’t wear. 

The knight captain brings him towards your parents and your father nods in approval. You hide behind your mother’s skirts. 

The king beckons you forward and you obey, curtsying when you see him. Vash bows, because that was what he was taught. 

“This is Vash,” the knight captain introduces him, “we’ve already begun training him to be a knight.” 

The king and queen scan him up and down, like he is a horse up for auction. “Perhaps he’d fare better as a bodyguard for our youngest child.” 

You look him in the eyes for the first time, and Vash has decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to protect you. 

It's something he thinks even now, as he fought to stay alive during his mission, as he saw the necklace that reminded him of you, as he read the words you wrote back to him.  

He thinks of the two kisses you had given him, yearning for more, like they were a drug. Like you were a drug. Maybe you were, maybe that would explain how he’d loved you for so long. 

It was selfish, perhaps, to keep you so close to him. To take your hand in his so often, to hold you with the intimacy of a lover. You were so beloved to him, it was impossible to think he’d be the same to you. 

The box was heavy in his hands as he stood outside of the door to your chambers, now allowed to leave the clinic since he’d healed. He knocked once, quietly, since it was late. 

You opened it, your face painted with the soft glow of candlelight. “Vash, I didn’t know you were better, I would’ve come to visit.” 

“May I come in?” 

“You never need to ask.” 

The two of you stood in your room, the door closed and the curtains drawn, no one around to see. 

“This is what I got you.” He handed you the box, his gaze averted. 

“Vash….this is gorgeous.” 

“I said it reminded me of you, didn’t I?” 

He knew the necklace, a simple pearl on a gold chain, wasn’t as extravagant as the other things you owned, but it was still beautiful. 

You handed him the necklace and turned around. “Help me put it on?” 

Carefully, like he was handling a china doll, he clasped the jewellery around your neck, the pearl sitting in the hollow of your throat. His fingers brushed your neck. He wondered what it would be like to press a kiss against the nape of it. 

“How’s it look?” 

“You look….I mean, it looks beautiful.” 

You bit your lip, and without thinking, he reached up and brushed your lip with his thumb. The skin was soft. 

“Vash….” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Anytime you want.” You sounded breathless. Stunned. 

He pulled you into a kiss, a proper kiss, and it took his breath away. You were warm against him. The fabric of your night clothes bunching up where his hands sat, the bare skin against his hands scorching. More, more, more, his mind supplied, but he’d never take more than you offered him. 

Without realising it, he’d ended up sitting on a chair, your body above his, kissing him as deep as you possibly could, as close as you could, like you could never be close enough, his hand edging underneath your shirt. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you no matter how close the two of you got. 

You pulled away, eyes heavy lidded and lips swollen. “I love you.”

The words left him breathless, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What?” 

“I love you, I am in love with you.”

He placed his head on your chest, pulling you closer, ignoring how his cock jumped at the movement. “I love you too. So, so much.” 

You raised his head and kissed him again, And again. The two of you spent what seemed like hours kissing. It was all he’d ever wanted.

***

You and Vash had three days of peace before disaster struck. An attack on an allied kingdom had signified an oncoming war and even though it had only been about a month since Vash’s last mission, you could tell he was going to be sent out again, and soon. 

This thought haunted you. This war could kill him and although you know he’d be happy to die protecting this country, and by extension you, you couldn’t allow that to happen. You wouldn’t. 

You cornered Vash in a secluded area of the library, the shelves hiding you from prying eyes. He grinned and leaned in for a kiss, but you stopped him, biting your lip. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

“You’re going to be sent out on a mission again. What if something happens to you?” 

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. A million armies, remember?”

You were silent for a few moments before you spoke again. “I want to run away. From the kingdom, from everything. With you.” 

Vash’s eyes widened in shock, and he was speechless for what seemed like years. “I….can’t do that.” 

“And why not?” 

“I just can’t, you don’t understand.” 

“Then help me understand.”

When he was silent, you scoffed and stormed off, not caring about how petulant you may have seemed. You can hear his footsteps behind you, but you don’t slow down, not even as you make it upstairs to your room. 

You slam the door to your chambers, only for them to open back up shortly after, the footsteps of your knight stopping behind you.

“I can’t run away with you,” Vash tells you, his voice desperate and tear filled, “if we leave here, you could die and you’re too important. I am not important enough for you to abandon everything for.” 

You whirl on him and shove him so hard, he nearly stumbles into the door. “Damn you, Vash, you’re important to me! Can’t you see that? Or are you blinded by your own sense of duty, of obligation, that you can’t see that I would sacrifice anything to keep you safe? To keep you here? With me?” 

His gaze was averted from yours, hidden by his blonde hair. “I can’t take you away from this life. You have to understand-“ 

“I’m tired of hearing that word. Understand. Understand that I must leave to fight in a foolish war. Understand that you must live your life constantly under guard. Understand that we can’t be together even though we want it over everything else in the world. As long as I remain here we can’t be together, we will always kiss in secluded corners or empty rooms. My running away is about more than you, it’s about being free, being free from the family that doesn’t care about me, being free from the weight that’s on my shoulders, but I want to do that with you. You’re my family now, you always have been.” 

Once again, he said nothing, and you sighed heavily. “Just leave.” 

He opened the door, but before he left, he stopped in the doorway. “I leave a week from now. Early in the morning.” 

The door shut and you heard him walk away.

***

You didn’t see him off, that was all Vash could think about as he rode on horseback through the woods towards the border of the kingdom. He figured you wouldn’t, not after that argument. It’s the longest you’d been without talking to him. 

He did wonder, however brief, what it would be like to run away with you. Would the two of you live in a cottage in a faraway forest, or would you live in a bustling town with fake names and disguises? But he couldn't, no matter how tempted he was. You were the whole world to him, he would kneel to you and fight for you, even if it meant never being together the way he had dreamed about, he wasn’t worth your devotion. Wasn’t worth running away from all you had known. 

He thinks of the letter he left in the hands of Meryl. “In case I don’t come back,” he’d told her, but now he was unsure if that was the right choice. He should’ve given it to you himself, but he was afraid that if he’d seen you, he would’ve abandoned everything he knew and taken you in his arms and ran away with you, wherever you had wanted. 

The loyalty he felt to you was unwavering, but he couldn’t put it above the loyalty he had to the crown. Then again, the crown may have taken him in after his brother disappeared, but it was you that had gotten him to open up, gotten him to smile and laugh. He was a fool to tell you he wouldn’t run away with you, because now that is all he wanted to do. But it was too late. 

“It’ll be okay Vash,” Milly said, coming up next to him on her horse, “I’m sure they just overslept. Meryl said they hadn’t been sleeping lately.” 

“Maybe, Milly. I’m sure they’ll be okay.” 

“You can always write a letter when we get there.” Wolfwood chimed in.

Vash was going to write you a letter everyday, even if you didn’t want them. He would pour his heart and soul and dedication into all of them. He loved you and even if he died in this stupid war, he was going to make sure you knew that.

***

When the first letter from Vash comes, you crumple it and throw it away, only to dig it out of the trash and cry immediately after. Vash was a bastard and you wanted to hate him with every fibre of your being, but you couldn’t. 

You didn’t write back. Even after letter after letter came and didn’t stop. It felt a little foolish, giving him this silent treatment, but the heartbreak you felt wasn’t foolish, it was real and it still hurt, even if it was coming up on a year since Vash had left. 

When the 365th letter had come, you finally wrote back. You missed him more than you were angry at him, and it was slowly killing you to watch the pile of letters grow, unopened but weathered. 

A letter doesn’t get sent back.

You’re not angry, you figured this might be a possibility. He has a right to be just as angry as you were, and you would not deny him that. You would never deny him anything. 

When months pass by with no letter from Vash, you begin to fear the worst. The best case scenario is that he’s alive and angry with you, but the worst ones always have him dead on a battlefield, covered in blood. It scares you the most, losing him like that, where his last thoughts of you are of you being angry at him. You were such a fool, being so selfish when he has only ever thought of what’s best for you, even when he told you he wouldn’t go with you, it was for you.

There’s a knock on your chamber door and you tell whoever it is to come in, not turning from your spot by the window. 

“If I’d have known I would get this warm reception, I would’ve come back home sooner.” The familiar voice dripping with sarcasm.

You whirled around in your chair with a gasp, tears welling up in your eyes. It was Vash. 

You stood up from your seat and pulled him into a hug, burying your sobs into his neck. “I thought you were dead, or worse.” 

“Not dead, but not entirely back in one piece like you’d prefer.” 

It was then you noticed that he was missing an arm and you gasped. “Oh Vash….” 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m alive, aren’t I?” 

“I’m so sorry…” 

He shook his head. “I’m not. Like I told you. A million armies to come home to you.” 

“They won’t let you be my guard anymore. I can’t let them take you away from me again. I just got you back. I won’t let them.”

He put his hand on your face. “Weren’t you the one that wanted to run away? Well, then let’s run away.”

“Are you sure?” 

Vash sat on your bed, pulling you down next to him. “When I was out there, I did a lot of thinking, especially when I was in the makeshift clinic. You are where I’m safest, my home. And I realised that I want to marry you, I want to be with you, and we can’t do that here.” 

You hugged him, knocking him onto the bed with the force of it and he laughed. “So, you’re not angry with me anymore?” 

You wiped the tears from your eyes. “When you didn’t reply to my letter, I feared the worst and I couldn’t bear the thought of your last memory of me being anger.” 

“Well, I did think I was going to die, but my last thought of you was about how happy you make me, how I finally got to hold you in my arms after so many years of wishing I could.”

“You’re the most important person in the world to me. So, let’s do it. Let’s run, right now.” 

“In the middle of the day? We’d get caught, especially you, you’re the second in line and you stick out like a peacock in the middle of a flock of pigeons.” 

“Tonight then?” 

His hand gripped yours. “Tonight. I can borrow clothes from Meryl or Wolfwood if I have to, you could even wear some of mine. I’ll leave them by your door later.”

“You sound pleased at the notion of me in your clothes.” 

“Of course. I think you’d look lovely in them.”

You rolled your eyes, but frowned. “I have to say goodbye to Meryl before we leave, she’s been a good friend to me lately, I can’t bear to leave her without a proper farewell.” 

“She won’t turn us in?” 

You thought of Meryl’s own relationship with her knight, Milly, and shook your head. “No, I think she’ll be happy for us.” 

Vash nodded. “Alright then, I’ll see you tonight, in the gardens. 

“By our chess table.” 

He rushed out the door and when the door slammed shut, you picked up the most boring bag you owned and began to pack.

***

The night was clear and crisp, Vash could see his breath appear in little clouds before him. He was glad the two of you were running on a night as pretty as this. 

You showed up a few moments later, the pants Meryl’s but the shirt was his, a cloak wrapped around you. 

“Did you see Meryl?” He asked, taking your hand in his. 

“Yes, she said she wouldn’t tell anyone she saw us and wished us luck. She also gave me this to give to you.” You pulled out the letter he had given the woman in case he hadn’t made it back to you. He let go of your hand to shove it in his pocket. 

“Now, we can’t go out the front gate, but we can’t climb the wall. What do we do?” 

You grinned, pulling him along with you until you stopped in front of an old iron wrought gate. “It’s basically abandoned, no one comes back here anymore. I found it when I was little.” 

“Does it still open?” 

Nodding, you let go of his hand and pulled the handle. The gate opened with a loud creak and you quickly ushered him through so you could close it. 

And then you were free, almost. 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “All we have to do is make it to the edge of the kingdom. It’s a few days of a walk, but Wolfwood will be waiting with a horse. The rest is up to us.” 

You pulled him into a kiss, your nose cold as it accidentally bumped his own. “I’m thinking somewhere with lots of people, but not in town.” 

He put his arm around you and pulled you in close. “So, a little cottage just outside of town?” 

“With a dog and a cat. And our horse, of course.” 

He snickered. “You rhymed.” 

You rolled your eyes, giving him another quick kiss before pulling away. “We’re not out of the woods yet.” 

“Then let’s go.” 

***

It took a week to get to the edge of the kingdom, where Wolfwood was waiting. 

He handed the reins to Vash and then bowed to you. “Highness.” 

You shook your head and wrinkled your nose. “No, not anymore. And no bowing, either.” 

The knight grinned. “That an order?” 

You rolled your eyes and got on the horse, Vash following. 

“I’ll write to you when we’re safe.” Vash told him, a grin on his face. 

“You’d better, or I’ll come kick your ass.” 

“You won’t even know where we are.” 

Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “Then I’ll knock on every door until I find yours.”

As you and Vash rode off into the forest, no longer within your kingdom’s territory, you turned and watched as Wolfwood disappeared into the distance, and with it, the only life you had ever known.

Your hands tightened around Vash as you buried your face into his back to stop the oncoming tears. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft and kind, full of concern.

You sniffed, embarrassed. “I know it was my choice to leave, but it hurts. I thought it’d be easier, that's all.”

“If you want to cry, I promise to pretend not to hear.” 

You let out a laugh that was thick with tears. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, we’ll get through this together, okay?” 

You nodded. “Together.” 

You stared out into the forest ahead of you, the trees so much like the ones back home but so different at the same time, holding promises of a new future where you wouldn’t feel ignored, where you were more than royalty. Where Vash remained at your side even when you didn’t have any jewels or a crown.

***

You and Vash decide to stay just outside a bustling town that’s right by the sea, in a cottage that you buy for almost nothing. And it is far, far away from home, where no one will ever find you. 

Vash laments not being able to carry you inside, but you silence him with a kiss, insisting that it doesn’t matter, now that you’re with him and that everything is perfect. 

Vash peeks at your empty left ring finger and thinks that there’s one more thing that would make a perfect start to your brand new life. So, early one morning, before you wake up, he heads into the already energetic town to shop for a ring. 

The owner greets him happily, using the fake name he had given the first day the two of you had arrived and offers his assistance. 

“Well, I need an engagement ring. Something to give someone that gave me everything even when I had nothing to offer.” 

“Pretty hefty guidelines there, but I’ve got a few for you, being a seaside town and all, a lot of our rings have pearls, is that alright?” 

He grinned. “That’s perfect.” 

Vash spends a little longer in town, picking up groceries and something else for you, just because he sees it and thinks of you. 

When he gets back home, you’re at the stove, cooking. He goes up behind you and presses kisses on your neck, making you laugh. 

“Went shopping, did you?” You ask, turning your head to plant a kiss on his lips. 

“I got you something. Close your eyes.” 

“I can’t, I’ll burn the eggs.” 

“It’ll be one second.” 

You roll your eyes but comply and Vash presses the gift in your hand, the ring tucked safely in his pocket for later.

You gasp when you  gaze at the gift. A small music box in pale blue. “Oh Vash….it’s gorgeous.” 

“I saw one like it in your room back….well, I know it won’t replace the one you left behind, but I had to try.”

“I love it, I love you.” You kissed him again and again and again. Until the smell of burning made the both of you jump back in surprise, causing you to dump the pan in the sink, dousing it with water while he turned off the stove. 

“I knew I should’ve listened to Meryl when she talked about cooking.” You told him with a sigh. 

He put his arm around your waist and pulled you in close. “It was my fault that time, so don’t feel bad sweetheart.” 

You kissed his nose. “Well, I hope you’re not hungry.” 

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket, but he decided to wait until tonight, for the perfect moment.

***

The dining room is lit only by candlelight as you come back into the house from putting the horse away for the night and the smell of dinner wafting from inside, making your stomach growl. 

“You did all of this while I was out?” You asked, toeing your shoes off by the door and heading deeper into the house. 

“It was simple, but I wanted to do something for you.” 

You sighed and shook your head. “You do enough, Vash.” 

He kissed your cheek. “It’ll never be enough. You’re the love of my life, and I’m going to spend my entire life trying to show you that.” 

“Vash, I’m the one who should be thanking you. You’ve already given me everything.” 

He shook his head. “I’m trying to propose to you, but it’s not going like I wanted it to.” 

Vash reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, inside was a ring, dainty in size, but gorgeous all the same.

A thin gold band and a cluster of tiny diamonds surrounding a pearl. 

“This is gorgeous…. I don’t know what to say.” 

He laughed nervously. “I’m hoping you’ll say yes.” 

You kissed him deeply and he slid the ring onto your finger. It was almost hard to believe you would get something like this in life, that you and Vash weren’t doomed. 

“So,” he said between kisses, “is this a yes?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. And I know just the way to celebrate.”

You took him by the hand and led him into your bedroom. 

***

The ring on your finger glinted in the morning sun as Vash woke up with a stretch, your bare skin covered by the less than luxurious sheets, but you had a content smile on your face as you slept. 

He thought back to all those months ago, when you were royalty and he was your knight, when the both of you thought that’s all your relationship would ever be, kisses in corners and hands held under the chess table. Now you’re both here, where no one knows who you are and where the two of you can be together until you’re old and grey and he can’t get out of bed without throwing his back out. The thought makes him laugh, and you stir awake. 

You grin sleepily at him. “Morning.” 

He grins back. “Morning.” 

“Are you watching me sleep?” 

“Your snoring woke me up, actually.” 

You roll your eyes and smack him playfully. “Bully.” 

He pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Vash always thought that when he looked at you, he saw his future. And he was right.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー General Prologue

ー The scene starts inside a mysterious chamber

*Thud* 

Karlheinz: Checkmate.

Socrates: ...!? How? Once again...

Karlheinz: Seems like I win.

Socrates: ...

Karlheinz: I had a pleasant time again tonight. Our final game was a great one.

*Rustle rustle* 

Socrates: Leaving already?

Karlheinz: I must proceed with my plan.

Socrates: Running away after winning, huh? 

Karlheinz: I would love to continue playing as well.

However, you should know very well why I cannot, no? My dear friend.

Socrates: Yes, I understand. That is exactly why it is so vexing.

Karlheinz: Do not say that, my friend. My life-long wish is for a new species to be born into this World...

We shall need Adam and Eve for this wish to come to fruition.

Socrates: Yes...

You have selected a candidate for Eve for quite some time now, have you not? That girl who possesses a special heart despite being a human.

She fulfilled her duty by falling in love with a Demon. 

Karlheinz: Then the one chosen by Eve...The Vampire who captures her heart, shall become Adam. 

That moment is finally upon us.

I have rewinded time again and again, doing everything within my power...

Success is currently right in front of our eyes. 

My friend, I never once felt bored because I had someone I could have long conversations with. 

Socrates: It saddens me to say goodbye...

Karlheinz: Oh come on, we can always meet again in our next lives.

Socrates: ...You’re right. See you in the afterlife. 

Karlheinz: I must get to the final preparations. ...Well then, if you’d excuse me now.

ー Karlheinz leaves

Socrates: Karlheinz...I suppose we shall never meet again in this life...huh?

Monologue

A Vampire going by the name of ‘Adam’. 

And the human girl called ‘Eve’.

Once the two of them tie the knot and give birth to a new species,

Karlheinz’ plan will undoubtedly reach completion. 

...However, in return for that,

I will lose a dear friend. 

That is incredibly saddening. 

Aah, how lonely I feel...

I threw a glance at the table’s surface.

The black and white chess pieces are lined up on top of the chess board. 

The remains of the fun game my friend and I were playing just now.

Socrates: My dear friend, are you certain that the man who was chosen is truly fit to become Adam?

Monologue

There should have been plenty of potential candidates. 

Was it inevitable that he would be the one to be ultimately chosen? 

Perhaps the true Adam can only be found,

if all of them are given an equal chance,

by meeting Eve,

under the same circumstances? 

...I am not yet convinced,

that this man in question will become Adam.

In which case, it is up to them to prove themselves,

and convince me. 

Socrates: This is a game where they will all fight over the same pawn being ‘Eve’. I shall create the World which will serve as the chess board through my magicーー

And lock the potential Adam candidates as well as Eve inside of it. 

While Adam has already been chosen, I could easily alter their memories somewhat.

Let us conduct an experiment where all of them have been given the same conditions in terms of memories, abilities and status. 

To see who will truly win over Eve...

They can fight over her in their little fabricated world, until but one player remains.

Well then, let us commence the game. Until it’s checkmate. 

Or alternatively...Until somebody breaks the game’s rules.

Until only one person remains on the board,

and as long as nobody commits foul play...

This experiment will remain ongoingーー

Monologue

Where on earth am I? 

I was wandering through the darkness. 

When I tried to remember what had happened,

I could not remember anything, as if a fog had clouded my mind.

The silhouette of a certain someone popped up in my head. 

It felt as if this loving, nostalgic figure,

looked at me with gentle eyes. 

However, I do not know who they are.

Who are you? 

Furthermore, who am I?

As if they were answering my question,

I could hear a man’s voice echo from somewhereーー

???: Good morning, Eve. Do you know who you are? 

--> This is where you get to input the MC’s name.

???: No, that is not your name, Eve. That is your past name. 

Yui: Eve...This is my name...

Monologue

‘Eve’ ...It had an incredibly familiar sound to it. I part my lips to pronounce those two syllables 

Yui: Eve...Eve...Eve...

Monologue

Every time I recite it, I grow more and more self-aware that this is in fact my name. 

???: You shall soon awaken. 

Our story begins right after the precious Supreme Ruler has passed away.

Three different houses will wage war against each other, fighting over you.

Monologue

The prophecy told by this man whose name remains a mystery to me...

I simply took all of it in...

I did not doubt his words in the slightest. 

After all, at this time, I was still incapable,

of experiencing a sense of ‘doubt’. 

I was not capable of breaking through the illusion. 

Any illusion which cannot be destroyed, will therefore become reality.

???: I call forth the light...

Monologue

At the same time he spoke those words,

a single light flashed right above me.

While weak, it was definitely shining.

I reached out my hand towards it.

*Thud*

As I heard the sound of a new game commencing.

ー The scene starts inside the Church

Yui: Nn...

( Huh? ...Where am I...? )

( There’s large stone monuments lined up...The horse and castle shapes remind me of the pieces of a chess game. )

( The windows are decorated with beautiful stained glass... )

( While the building itself appears to be rather old, it is in good condition, so somebody must have been taking care of it. )

A holy atmosphere lingers in the air...

( This feeling must mean it’s a...Church...I suppose...? )

( In which case, the place I was sleeping on is...the altar? )

Why am I here...?

*Dingー Dingー*

Yui: Kyaah!

The Church bells...? That startled me...

???: So the seal was broken at last? It surely took its time.

Yui: Eh...?

Bespectacled man: While this was stated in the legend as well, I have to say that you are hardly impressive. Oh well, I suppose that is fine.

Given as you were here at this Church, there is no mistaking it.

Yui: A-And who might you be...?

( While he does look very proper and his demeanor is polite, his sharp gaze is somewhat terrifying... )

Bespectacled man: Let us keep any self-introductions for later. Unfortunately, there is no time for those right now. You shall be accompanying us to our manor.

Yui: What do you mean by that...? Where are we in the first place? How did I end up heーー

Bespectacled man: I see. ‘You are completely ignorant’...correct?

ー He approaches her

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah! L-Let me go!

Bespectacled man: I do not know if you are speaking the truth or simply acting.

Either way, this does not alter the fact that you will be coming with me.

Yui: ( I’m being kidnapped!? I have to run! But he’s too strong, I can’t shake him off... )

???: How cruel to do such a thing to a poor little girl~ 

*Woosh* 

Bespectacled man: ーー!?

*Cling*

Man with hat: You just barely managed to dodge my attack, huh? I suppose I should have expected as much from you, Reiji.

Yui: ( A dagger came flying at him!? Is that man the one who threw it...? )

Reiji: Haah...Just as I thought, there were other people with the same intention as us.

So the Violet House has decided to send Laito as their messenger...And it would appear that Kou is here as well. 

Kou: Ahーah. You noticed me? I thought I was doing a pretty good job concealing my presence. 

Yui: ( There’s another guy carrying a dagger... )

( The one holding my arm is Reiji-san...And the two people over there are Laito-san and Kou-san? )

Kou: Listen, won’t you hand over Eve to us? Carla-kun really wants her, you see.

Reiji: I refuse. The next Supreme Overlord shall be none other than me after all. 

Laito: Geez, the oldest sibling of the Scarlet House is so stingy. Wouldn’t you agree, Eve-chan? 

Yui: Eve...

( Right. I am Eve...I wonder why I forgot? )

( These people are fighting over Eve...over me. )

Reiji: I would have liked to have gotten this over with quick and easy, but it seems like some people insist on getting in the way...

You should step back for a bit.

Yui: Ah...

Reiji: I shall be your opponent.

Laito: Oh? This doesn’t seem quite right? You’re acting like a noble knight protecting the princess. 

Kou: Exactly, spot on! Even though it’s obvious that Eve will come to our house.

Right, Eve? You will, won’t you? 

Yui: T-That’s a tough question. I don’t even know you guys...

Kou: Then you can just get to know us! At our manor, that is. 

Yui: ( No way, what should I do...? )

*Rustle*

Yui: Ow...!? 

( Someone pulled me in stronglyl! )

???: You’re coming with Yours Truly. You don’t have any other choice. 

*Rustle* 

???: I promise to take ‘good’ care of you. Until I get sick of you, at least.

Yui: ( Another stranger...! )

Laito: Ehー? Ayato has made his appearance as well?

Reiji: The third son of the Orange House...I suppose this is how things ultimately played out.

To think all three Houses would show up right after Eve’s awakening. 

Yui: ( Three Houses...? )

Ayato: The Church’ barrier disappeared. Of course we’d come to check what’s going on. 

And I was right to do so too. It’s just like how that one legend goes.

Yui: ( Legend... )

Kou: The Church’ barrier will be dispelled after the Supreme Overlord perishes. 

The one who wakes up Eve who is slumbering there with a kiss, it will open the path to becoming the next Supreme Lord...That’s the story you’re talking about, right?

Laito: It’s the story of Sleeping Beauty.

Yui: ( Barrier...Legend...Supreme Overlord? What on earth are they all talking about...? )

Reiji: It would seem that you have no clue about any of this.

Kou: So she’s completely ignorant to the fact that she’s Eve?

Ayato: Aah? Cut me some slack! Do you have any idea how long we waited for you!?

Laito: I mean, she was asleep this whole time, so we can hardly blame her, can we?

Although it seems like we’ll need to take our time to fill her in on everything.

But to do that, we have to take you home with us first.

Yui: ...!

( They’re suddenly giving off a different vibe...? )

( They are glaring coldly at each other. Do their eyes even seem to be glowing red or am I just imagining that...? ) 

( No, more importantly, the weapons they are holding, are they actually real...? )

Reiji: I suppose we should get started soon.

Ayato: Che, finally.

Kou: Who will get to claim Eve? 

Laito: The battle commencesーー

Yui: Battle...!? Don’t tell me, you’re actuallyーー

*CLANG CLANG CLANG*

Yui: ( The four of them are swinging their swords at each other...Wait, noーー )

( There’s only three of them. One has disappeared...! )

*Rustle* 

Yui: Kyah!? W-Who are you!? Please...Let me go!

Monologue

A figure suddenly snuck up behind me.

I attempted to fight back, but ‘his’ arm wouldn’t even budge.

I had been successfully captured by him.

Exactly, the one who seized me wasーー

[REIJI --> SCARLET HOUSE PROLOGUE]

[LAITO --> VIOLET HOUSE PROLOGUE]

[AYATO --> ORANGE HOUSE PROLOGUE]

[swordbisexual]

Knight-Captain's Gambit

A Cat/Cullen ficlet. Just putting them on the page together and enjoying it.

--

It begins as mere formality. A requisite invitation, made in the name of civility, another small gesture towards the Inquisition’s now staunch declaration of the unificiation of all beneath its banner. Cullen - Templar, former - offering an hour’s diversion by way of chess to the Inquisitor - mage, forever - is little more than polite pleasantry, and one he fully expects to be bluntly rejected outright.

The Inquistor purses her lips. “Prepare the board, Commander.”

Cullen starts, though he takes care not to show his surprise. He’s not the only one who is surprised at the words, though; the Inquisitor herself looks confounded at her own utterance, her already serious brow furrowing deeper and light eyes growing wider as she stares down at the remnants of his last game with Dorian, then back up to meet his gaze.

He begins to rearrange the pieces as he regains his composure. “Do you play often?”

Cat Trevelyan - Lady Trevelyan, though he does his best to think of her only as the Inquisitor and nothing more, nothing less - uncrosses her arms and drops into the chair opposite, absent of any real grace or high-born bearing. She props her elbows on her knees and laces together her fingers, resting the tip of her nose atop her knuckles. She stares at his hands as he moves the pieces, her brows still furrowed, and sighs. “It’s been a while.”

There’s exhaustion lacing her voice, and Cullen can see it in the slope of her shoulders, too. They’ve all been marching tirelessly on since Haven, in more ways than one, but he knows better than any other how easy it can be to seize even the smallest scrap of momentum and let it carry a body through til there’s nothing left. The Inquisitor hasn’t stopped moving, as far as he can tell, though he knows she must sleep every once in a while. Not often enough, though, if the shadows smudged beneath her eyes are any indication.

Are you all right? he wants to ask. Does Haven keep you awake too?

Instead, he sits back to look at the neat lines of a new board, pleased at the promise of the game’s beginning. “My sister and I used to play as children. She’d always win, and I’d practice with my brother after, until I could finally beat her.”

The Inquisitor finally looks up at him and smiles, only just so, only just enough for him to see the corner of her mouth peek from behind her laced hands for the space of a moment. “That does sound like you.” She looks down to the board and looses her right hand, curling her left into a loose fist to rest her chin upon. After some thought, she picks up one of her knights to move it forward.

A classic beginner’s mistake, when the beginner overestimates themselves, but he won’t judge her abilities just yet. Cullen considers the line of his pawns and slides one forward. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Her smile is unhidden now, and it’s a curving, wry thing, though softer than the smug smiles she’s flashed him from across the war table when Josephine and Leliana once again take her side in how to proceed with this lord or that merchant. “Determined,” she says, meeting his pawn with one of her own, and within striking distance.

He realizes, in between glances up at her unshakeably studious stare, that he cannot for the life of him determine what color her eyes are.The question is not one that’s bothered him too terribly much until very recently; when they spoke in the Skyhold yard, he thinks, and she told him with a voice that only barely trembled that she was glad he made it out alive. He’d looked at her eyes then and saw blue, then green, then gray, and then back to blue-green all over again, shifting like the surface of the lake in Honnleath.

He takes the pawn without thinking. “That almost sounds like a compliment, Inquisitor.”

“Single-minded, then.” Her smile grows, and with her knight, she returns the favor. “And sometimes to your own detriment.”

The words don’t sting, necessarily, but they cause something in his chest to prickle, and he shakes away the thought of eyes like a lake, lest he fall forward deep enough in them to drown. “We’ll see about that.”

[thewertsearch]

Great points. Now that I'm looking at the War from a game designer's perspective, I think Prospit's smartest move hinges on a deep question about Sburb's mechanics - one that we haven't addressed yet.

Namely: is the Battlefield an unwinnable game for Prospit, or is it a winnable game that it's not allowed to win?

The distinction is important, so let me explain. I'm asking if you took all the rules of the conflict on Skaia - the relative strengths of the kingdoms, their weaponry, the size and structure of the Battlefield, everything you need to simulate the War - and played it as a pen-and-paper game, while completely removing Homestuck's fate system as a factor - would Prospit still always lose?

Is the outcome here decided by the game's design, or is it influenced by forces beyond its basic ruleset? Is the Battlefield a real game of chess, or is it a game of chess where some unseen hand keeps arbitrarily knocking over White's pieces when they get too close to winning?

If it's the former, then no winning Battlefield strategy exists. The War cannot be won under any circumstances, and Prospit needs to redefine victory. Maybe you can't win - but how long can you stall for? The Players will arrive eventually, and they're not subject to your restrictions.

If it's the latter, then a winning Battlefield strategy does exist, but it's irrelevant, because there is a mechanism external to the game which prevents you from employing it. Can you learn about that mechanism, though? Try and fight it, maybe? It might not be as absolute as it seems - and what do you have to lose?

I think Prospit is acting under the assumption that the former is true. Redefining victory is, after all, exactly what the Queen did when she abdicated - so I think she is trying to play this as smart as possible.

[le--fruitcake]

When you get this, answer with five things that make you happy, then send it to the last ten people in your recent activity :)

Oh, joyous day, a lovely correspondence! I shall endeavor to do my best!

Swords! Most anything to do with them, but specifically, the creation, use, and mythos surrounding them. Swords are a near-ubiquitous weapon, and there are so many legendary swords— Excalibur, 三日月 (Mika[d]zuki), Murakumo/Kusanagi, Kikuichi-moji, and Nasuada's Sword of Light, to name a few. Knowing how a weapon is made, or even better, making it yourself, gives you a sense of oneness with it that is almost sacred, and knowing how to use it makes it an extension of yourself— not just in body, but in soul. Or something.

Writing is fun! Putting thought to word can be challenging, but the right word choice and setup can make a piece of writing impactful and emotional. I find no shame in admitting my own writing has made me cry on multiple occasions, but I am of course biased. The other side of the coin would be...

Reading! You cannot be a writer without first being a reader. Reading inspires me to write, and gives me ideas besides. There's something special about cozying up with a good book, especially in a cold room with a warm, soft blanket.

I'm partial to a good game! Most kinds, but especially video games, card games, and chess. I prefer a challenge, but an intelligent one, so a human opponent is always better than a machine. No one wants to play Yugioh with me bc my deck is too good, lol. (This is a cry for help— PLEASE reach out if you play Yugioh. I Crave The Game.)

Rabbits, shockingly, make me very happy! Rabbit-based characters, too, like my beloveds Miyamoto Usagi, Mitamoto Yūichi, Mirko, Lop, and others I cannot think of at the moment but exist!!

Thank you for the ask!

[aliquistis]

Hi! ♥ I hope you're having a wonderful time wherever you are!! I am here to sing your praises and ask some questions about your writing process! First of all, Witch Ways is such a great piece of writing. Every 5 minutes I'm like [origin character name here] would totally do this! or that's so [origin character], and twirling my hair, giggling like a 13yo with a crush. I can't help but be endlessly amazed at how well you write each character: the way you depict actions, feelings, analogies, etc., like you're aware of what's going on all the time and direct our attention toward the important stuff. It's all very cinematographic and painterly. And that awareness guiding our attention feels like you're shaping scenes with just enough detail, or broad enough strokes, that reading becomes really pleasurable, and not dense at all or like everything is up in the air. It's a perfect balance. Gale, as written by you, is *chef's kiss*. Also, an honorable mention goes to Astarion; your portrayal of him is so on point I'd jump at the opportunity to read anything you write with him in it. Chapter 11 has Astarion pull some emotional 3D chess stuff on Gale to make him open up about his relationship with Echo, and I think that is so ingenious! Another thing I've noticed is that you're really good at knowing when a relationship/character has had enough time in the spotlight and it's time to let other relationships/characters into the picture - all in a very natural and reader-friendly manner. And I'm a baby writer, but I know our characters/plotlines can only be as developed as we are experienced/well-read, in a way. Naturally, I've got some questions and they are as follows: 1) What are some of the things/techniques/approaches that help you with characterization/keeping characters effectively in character? I just feel like, you're so good at reading characters and knowing what they'd do next. Developing that skill probably took you time and effort!!! So, any words of wisdom, book, webpage, or anything to help guide me a bit through the process of acquiring the skill? 2) is there anything that's helped you become a better writer? Especially in terms of developing and maintaining this 360° awareness when you write (they should be doing that with their hands, they should be feeling this but also a bit of that, this is the right amount of [character/relationship], this explanation/description is ok and if I add more to it I risk being insecure/overly preachy, etc.) Thank you so much for sharing your writing!!! ♥

Thank you so much for your kind words! I really am having a great time writing this story and I'm very happy that people are enjoying it. The best general writing advice I can give is simply to stick to it. Don't get hung up on comparing yourself to other people. It can take a long time to find your own voice and it took me personally a long time to realize there isn't one "right" way to write. Writing is hard and you have to try and be kind to yourself. Don't be afraid to make mistakes or to get crit. I cannot tell you how much time I wasted being terrified of showing anyone my writing, when I could have been using that time to grow as a writer.

Specific answers under a cut bc I babbled on for awhile!

1) So for characterization, just play through every possible conversation you can have with a companion/npc. I look up videos for choices that I can't make (like late game evil playthroughs) and I have like a million saves before conversations, events, and areas that I might need to revisit. When I'm looking for a certain reaction (like how does Wyll talk to you if you're mean to him? If you're nice to him?) This is probably why I'm so comfortable writing Astarion, since I romanced him on my first playthrough and I got to see a lot of content for him.

So I load up a conversation with the emotion I'm looking for, and really pay attention to their speech patterns. Then, during writing, I do two passes: the first time I write out what I need from the conversation, then the second time (during editing) I read the conversations out loud and try to see if I can hear it in the character's voice. During this second pass, I change a lot of wording and inflection to better fit how a certain character speaks. Reading dialogue out loud in general is a great idea bc it helps you make sure you're writing in a way that people actually talk.

2) Workshopping helps so much. I majored in English so I had to take a lot of writing classes and just getting another set of eyes on your writing who can tell you "hey this doesn't make sense" or "hey I had to read this twice so it's probably not flowing how you want it to" can really, really help. Since having a ready workshop isn't always possible, writing fanfiction can help in the same way! Really anything that keeps you writing and practicing will keep you developing.

More specifically for picturing scenes, a lot of times I will have to physically do the things I'm writing so I can better see how to describe it. For emotions, I listen to music that evokes the same feeling I'm trying to write out. It sounds weird to say it, but study fiction and the stories you like. Think about why story beats landed how they did or what you'd do differently to flesh something out that you liked, but could have hit better if some things had changed. (I feel like we have all been watching a movie and gone "Why didn't they say/do [this] instead!") Editing is so important, so hard, and so (imo) boring but it is integral to getting the feeling in a scene right. You really can't tell if something is coming off right until you've gone back over it and cut down/filled out the parts you need.

Doing a warm up can help too, especially when the words aren't coming to you right away. Pick a prompt or think of a scene that you're really excited to write and give yourself fifteen minutes to just hammer away at that. In my writing classes, we always did a warm up for the first fifteen minutes of class and it can really help put your brain in the right condition for creating. Another exercise we did in writing class (which might help with the scene awareness) was taking a scene from a movie and writing it out in prose. It can help you pay attention to what movements need to be narrated and how to describe expressions/inflection.

I hope some of this helps! Unsurprisingly, it also helps to write stuff you have fun writing. Even if you think it's a trope or cliche or whatever, who cares! Write what you like. I started both of my big fanfics simply because I couldn't find the ship dynamic I was looking for in the pairings they feature. So if you write what you want to read, chances are there are people in the world also looking for it <3

[daybreakrising]

@avaere: the last time he encountered the doctor it was under far different circumstances, odd gambles and chances that the halovian's hand had dabbled a little too deep into - and despite that, there'd be a smile offered there he'd come to lock gazes with the familiar figure, hands in dark pockets.

he got out too, the ever so well known veritas ratio, he whose reputation in regards to intellect went both far and wide. now, sunday could not pride himself a scholar, nor someone whose education had been in line with the achievements of the doctor, but even he had come to hear the great tales of that intellect. with such feats under his belt sunday couldn't help but to wonder... how much had he deciphered of penacony? how much had he, this bright mind, managed to understand before even entering the doors to a dream?

it was intriguing, perhaps even a bit intimidating to think about, and yet it wouldn't stop sunday from approaching. he had long shed the bright colors of the dreamscape, life and name now tied to the scripts of destiny's slave. " doctor veritas ratio , i cannot say i am surprised that you found your way out of the dreamscape ; such a shame we did not have more time to debate and discuss during our last meeting ... i would have loved to hear your take on penacony's everlasting dreams."

but of course, perhaps sunday could have started with a simple hello.

There is a stark difference that he notes immediately within the Halovian - and not simply down to the altered manner of dress. Sharp eyes miss nothing, and neither do ears finely tuned to the task of gathering intel. If knowledge is power, then the doctor is a formidable man indeed. The fate of the Oak Family's former head has been the subject of much debate for those in the know of what transpired within Penacony.

How... interesting. He had not expected to find himself approached by the man, and it certainly tugs at his endless well of curiosity. It is enough to drag his attention from the game of chess sat before him - he regards the other with a subtle incline of the head, acknowledging his words with a faint curve of his lips. "A shame indeed, Mr Sunday."

He leans back in his chair, gestures with one hand to the vacant seat opposite him. "Alas, we both had our own specific intentions for that meeting, did we not? Our parts to play." Fingers deftly pluck a piece from the board, execute a strategic move. "Hardly the time for lengthy debates, as tragic as that is."

He considers the board for a moment longer, then lifts his gaze again to the fallen angel that stands before him. "Do you play, Mr Sunday? Perhaps you'd like to join me." Sharp eyes miss nothing. "And we can see about answering some of those questions you are practically brimming with."

[saphirered]

Hi I hope you’re doing well 🤍🤍

Can i request Masquerade with Eris like him meeting reader in the ball and trying to find her after ?

Okay I went angsty with this, but there's sweet fluff too. Hope you enjoy! 😘

Music echoes through the halls of the Forest House. It drowns out the noises of the people, the swishing of extravagant garments as they move with the practiced paces of the schooled nobles who waltz along the tunes played. Never is there a hair out of place. Never is there a mistake in step or manners. Such an offence would be a disgrace upon one’s name. Should such a flaw catch the gaze of the High Lord, it would be so much worse. The dungeons usually teach manners to those who have forgotten them, reminds them of all the rules of social engagement. So should one wish to be rid of another for a while, they must simply partake in this game of chess. Eris knows this game all too well. He has played it a thousand times. Over time he has won far more than he lost. As much as this is a game, it also allows him to learn things that might have passed him otherwise. These events, leave for so many interweaving webs and he desires nothing more than to be on top of them. He will prove he is with every step he takes because what cover is granted behind those magical masks, it hides who he truly is. He is not but a noble tonight and so he will dance their dances, talk their talks and walk their walks as if he is not above them. He will be a poison upon them, but does he forget he is equally a poison onto himself?

You force a smile. Another offer to dance from some noble. You cannot refuse. You cannot slip away. It is already bad enough this is your final night with a semblance of freedom. Your match has been made and it is not one of your choosing. You will be in for a lifetime of misery and such a lifetime is dreadfully long for someone of your birth. You wish it were different. You wish to be free among the trees, or the skies but you know the place in life that has been carefully carved out for you. You were taught from an earl age that your future is not your own. You are but a piece in a bigger picture and you shall do your duty or fall and see how long the wild would sustain you if you managed to run away in the first place. You learned the semblance of compliance would be the best path for you and take what you can but you know you cannot get out of a match like this for it is made. Your overseers would never allow it and you doubt sucking it up to the High Lord would grant you any mercy. You doubt that path would be one less dreadful than the one you’re already on. So you hold your head high. Force a smile. Be coy and dance the night away. 

A mask of silver, grey and black represents canine in nature catches your attention. The attire of this stranger matches to an extend, with hints of green, gold and orange interwoven that remind you of smoke and forest. Your eyes meet and you swear they are the most beautiful hues of russet you have seen, they flicker in the light and for a second you thought you must have been mistaken for they resemble the flames of the candles so perfectly. You thought it might have been a reflection. You lose sight of him when your dance partner lifts and twirls you. You do not miss a beat and continue the sway across the dance floor. When you look at the spot you saw this handsome stranger, he is gone. Perhaps it was your imagination. Perhaps it was the wishful thinking; to hope for the magic of fairytales. You are not destined for a prince charming. Such mirages will always be falsehoods. Reality is much harsher and shows little mercy. Reality is the life you are used to and so you shall not daydream of such fantasies. They are but a distraction. Still you cannot set the smoke hound with eyes like fire out of your mind. No matter how hard you try. 

When his eyes fell upon that beauty he could not look away. Your garments of carmine and crystal reminded him of the most gorgeous autumn flower, the dew drops frozen, when the weather turns colder. He knows those flowers well for they are his mother’s favourite. They wilt far too fast and are but a reminder of cold and dark times to come. They mark an ending of an era, and the beginning of something less than desired. The hints to this are subtile. He doubts anyone picked up on it or made the connection but when he looks at you, he feels that sadness, that loss and longing. It’s written in your eyes. Your mask may hide your true identity but Eris would be a fool if he did not keep up on court gossip and politics. He knows the gaze of a fae from that world you and he both dance in, and are forced to comply to. He knows that’s the gaze of someone who must sacrifice freedom for a semblance of familial control. Only one of the list of recently announced matches would be so bold to make this hidden statement, express this final moment of rebellion. He may not have met you but he knows of you and that’s enough to spark his curiosity.

Some might say kindred spirits are drawn to each other. You remain dancing and he pulls himself away from this ledge. Your match has been made. It would be inappropriate. But then again, a fae masquerade is shrouded in magic as it is secrets. You are not you, and he is not himself. You are but insignificant strangers among this crowd, none higher than the other and thus after careful pondering and analysis Eris finds that perhaps, on this final night of your freedom he should ask you to dance. For he wishes to know you, even if that you is but a masked beauty of cordial manners prim and proper. He wishes you could have that opportunity. Does that make him soft? Perhaps so. He is not prone to pity the pawns of a bigger game. But even now, muted and hidden, you are far more than a simple pawn. You deserve to be above the masses. 

Your dance comes to an end and you are almost lucky to have another line of suitors waiting. The last one was a little too hands-on when it came to the dance but you gracefully corrected whatever inappropriate contact might have occurred and turned yourself a mediocre enough dancer to discourage the ask for second dance. Among your suitors, you do what you try every time; figure out any inkling of who they might be, what tells might give away the identities behind those masks. Sometimes you are successful, or think you are. The next weeks among the court will show how right or wrong you were if it’s up to you and your perceptive skills. No one pays attention to the doll to the side or in the corner who’s there only to look pretty; be seen and not heard. Still, the only one you actually cared about comes back to the smoke hound again. Your curiosity has the better of you and while those others all but fight over you, and your attention. It’s this individual who simply stands, back straight, chin high but not too high for he stares you straight in the eye, and there you see that candle in the dark once more. He offers you his hand. 

The stranger asks you to dance. Asks. Even if it is not with words. All night the question has been presented to you but never once would they expect a ‘no’ or take satisfaction with one. The rules of this social engagement simply told you, unless you were otherwise occupied you would dance until they were done. You did not mind because while the company might at times be dull at best and dreadful at worst, you genuinely enjoy dancing. Yet still, this male is giving you a choice, allows you to take this power into your own hands and walk with it. You do not recall when you last had the offer to choose for yourself, anything decided by you based on want and desire and freedom. You have a choice and it makes you feel powerful. It makes you feel in control for you are in control in this moment. This stranger might not even know how much this means to you and while those around you quarrel. You simply weave past them to this stranger. You watch him study you as you approach. You study him in kind and place your hand in his. The agreement is set. This stranger will be your partner for this dance and you take to the dance floor, leaving the remaining people disgruntled and impatient  but given the air of power this individual radiates, they decide it best to not argue. 

You speak but few words during the dance, as it might be seen as inappropriate after all. Eris told you your manners are impeccable. Of course you replied as is expected at such a compliment. You speak eloquently, with a learned mind and he finds himself confirming you are wasted on these fools, wasted on the fool you are set to marry. He sees through your mask, time and time again, even if the magic remains in place. When he asks to continue for another dance you do not refuse, nor when he asks after that, and after that. He won’t deny his sly smile when he saw the disgruntled individuals who have been at your feet for but a moment of your attention. 

“You take pleasure in the power you hold over others.” You simply state as if it were a greeting or casual conversation. “It is a most admirable trait for a male to know his place.” There comes the schooled courtier; words basked in insincere flattery. Eris dares himself, to push the limit and let go of some restraint, even if his manners would be impeccable and he would be ever charming, he would not hide behind falsehoods.

“I think you and I both know it is a horrendous trait in anyone and a flaw when not acknowledged.” He dared speak and when he sees your eyes widen in shock, for a brief moment before they return to their charming masked glee.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, milord.” You smile as you are dipped low, back up and twirled. 

“If this is your last night of freedom, do you want it to be spent among those who think these masks they hide behind are any better than the ones they adorn every other day?” Eris whispers under this breath, assuring not even the soundest of ear would catch on over the music. 

“It appears you have me at a disadvantage, milord, for you imply knowing me yet I know not even your name.” Not even once do you falter or break this time, prepared for what he throws at you next. To be honest this was the last you’d expect from anyone during this ball. On the other side, you won’t deny it’s refreshing, to be faced with truth instead of deception at every corner. It’s an opportunity as much as it is a risk and you know not if you should take it.

“You can answer truthfully. I don’t require your decorum. I will simply beg for your honesty.” He wants your honesty? You’ll show him honesty but not once does your grace falter, not even when your eyes are cold, colder than the faux welcoming glint you sported all night. 

“Excuse me, milord. You talk like you know me but I assure you, you don’t.” 

“Do not take by words for offence, or attack. My apologies. It appears I overstepped. We have never met before. We have never been introduced prior to this night. But my sight is clear as your beauty is. And as your beauty is clear to all, to me, I see something else too. I see a flame about to be snuffed. I see a lack of control over one’s fate.”

“What would you know about that?” It’s a genuine question, even though your words might come off more offensive than anything else. The handsome stranger does not take them as such. He simply offers you a sad smile. 

“We do not get mercy in a world like this. You seek to enjoy a final night of freedom before you are to lose it, to be condemned to a cage of responsibility and unhappiness like those before you, and likely plenty after you too. You’ve been looking for a semblance of freedom here but you have not found it. You still adhere to these rules. So are you truly free from your shackles?” Those words pierce through, right through your chest and into your heart. The dance ends and you bow. Your throat feels tight because for the first time in your life, someone has not just acknowledged your feelings, but legitimised them too. You feel seen and heard and feel like your words truly matter. 

“Freedom is a matter of perspective. I am more free even here, than some.” Eris knows that answer. He’s told himself the same. He’s grown disillusioned with the prospect of freedom, true freedom for himself. 

“If I could offer you, one night, to do whatever you choose, would you take it?” He asks and you ponder his words before the suitors surround you again, waiting for you to choose your next dance partner as the smoke hound steps away, into the crowd. You cannot answer, your eyes follow him as he goes and you think. This offer. The choice, might be a risk, but what have you to lose? You decide to take it. You excuse yourself from all those fae around you begging for your attention as you brush past them and follow the direction the stranger disappeared into. Some eyes follow but you have not the care. Some try to stop you, call for your attention and pull you into conversation but you brush them off. Your focus remains on the stranger until you find yourself outside, overlooking the forests. He has disappeared. 

You cannot find him. But the whips of smoke call your attention, a beautiful hound, grey of fur and black of eyes, approaches you. You might have been afraid had you not seen the ears lower to its skull and head drop, nudging you as if to guide you and giving into that impulse, you do. You wander through the walkways, and between the trees lead by this hound until there you see him. His back is turned to you, and in his hand he holds the mask you’d only seen him with. The glamour is gone now and you see the tall stature, built like a warrior but lithe like a hunter, hair like copper red that nearly glows warm in the light of the torches around this small reclusive area. He speaks and his voice is like honey, smooth and intoxicating. 

“I didn’t think you would follow.” If he is honest, he never thought he’d see you again. There’s something frightening about taking away the mask, and the glamour of anonymity in this all but when he turns and sees you, sees your eyes widen and your breath catch, that debate does not dwindle. The question remains as you look quite like a deer, about to run. But then you take some deep breaths, taking a step forward with each of them until you stop still an appropriate distance away. manners do die hard and he does not blame you for it. He does not expect something from you either. He never has. You are a kindred spirit and while it might be a moment of weakness, he feels like offering you this, this right to choose and carve your own path even if just for the night, that is the only kindness and mercy he can offer you now. He’ll give it to you. And he’ll give it freely. 

“Neither did I.” You breathe. “Is it true? Your offer?” You question as you study him closely. You’d be a fool not to recognise the heir of this court. You’d be even more foolish to dismiss his reputation but right now when you look at him you see a broken male, with a broken heart. A caged bird with broken wings and it shows you, he knows the live you live. He understands better than anyone could because he is willing to see that harsh truth. He offers you honesty you might never see otherwise and he offers it freely. You might have a thousand questions as of why and you doubt any of them could be answered. 

“One night, of your choosing.” He repeats. The words echo through your heart. Eris watches you as your hands reach for the tethers of your mask, and slowly undo them until you take off the mask, revealing your face. Up until now he could not be one-hundred percent sure it was you but now he is. Up until now he had not the opportunity to admire you for the beauty you truly are, inside and out but now he sees and he feels as if he has been blinded, as if the Mother kept you away from him until this very moment. Now your paths align, just before they are set to diverge. What a cruel road, he thinks to himself. 

“Then I would wish to spend it in good, honest company.” He looks at you to elaborate as these words are every bit as twisting as the fae of this court, he dares not assume anything. “I wish to spend it in your company, should you agree.” 

“I would like that very much.” He replies in a heartbeat. Eris needs not think twice for he knows what he wants and that is to get to know you, the real you before it is too late because even one night would still be worth the eternity he might spend without you for at least he would have known you. 

And so you spend that night together, discovering your freedom, talking dancing, enjoying the company of another. You talk about the woes of this world as much as you do the few sparks in your lives. You laugh and even shed a tear or two but it’s alright for the company is pleasant and accepting. You remain in this secluded area long after the masquerade comes to an end, and the guests have found their ways home or to the sleeping arrangements provided. The night grows quiet save for your voices, but you need not worry for no one will find you here in this corner. You are safe and need to drag out these final minutes before your time is up. 

You lay on the ground, feel the roots of the trees under you, carving out a perfectly comfortable spot. Under your head lies the folded jacket of the Autumn heir. He lays near your stomach where you had bunched up the fabric of your own garments and provided him a makeshift pillow from the excess fabric, which he was happy to take for comfort, even if that left him in your close proximity. Together you watch the skies, as the light turns from midnight blue to purple and pink. You both know morning comes. Dawn is here. 

“My time is up, Eris.” His name on your lips still sends shivers down his spine. It had taken you some convincing to use it, but you eventually had and he could not be fonder of how you speak it. 

“I know.” He acknowledges with remorse. You lift yourself until you sit. He does too. You hand him his jacket and in that brief moment of contact when your fingers brush against one another, sparks fly and ignite and fill you with warmth, comforting and welcoming. You turn, on your knees until you are close to him. Take your discarded masks, and offer him his. He does not take it from you this time. Instead he curls your fingers around it. “Keep it. As a reminder of our meeting.” You smile, albeit sadly and clutch the mask to your chest. 

“I will cherish it forever.” Now he mimics your smile before his features turn solemn. He rises to his feet and offers you his hand to help you up like a true gentleman. Graciously you take it and rise to your feet only to realise you stand so close to each other, so close you can feel the warmth radiate of his body, and see the freckles of golden russet in his eyes. 

“Thank you, for everything.” You take a deep breath. You don’t want this moment to end because your heart feels alive, and not abandoned in the dark. Eris makes you feel alive and if you could only spend a moment longer with him, you would sell all there is to your name. Sadly such is not the way of your life. 

You raise your hand, slowly, as if to give him the opportunity to stop you, or deny you this; you offer him his right to choose so to welcome your touch he simply presses your hand to his cheek, allows you to cup it and holds it there until you feel comfortable enough to stroke your thumb across his cheekbone. He’s known the strike of his father, the belittlement of his brothers, the tenderness of his mother, the charm of countless lovers and yet none has felt like the fire that runs within him; comforting and alive. For the first time in his life he feels as if he is exactly where he’s supposed to be, where he is wanted, truly wanted for him and not some connection forged or built on deceit and transaction. In your eyes he sees truth, truth he will never find elsewhere. 

“You are a good male, Eris. A good male. Don’t you ever forget what is in your heart.” He sighs and nods. He wants to believe you, desperately but he’s losing faith with every passing week. You’ve given him hope, hope for a better future, and not just for him, but one for you. That’s what he desires; a better life for everyone. No more infighting. No more treason. There is strength in compassion but to build a court on that, many circles must be broken, many minds changed, or destroyed in the process. The throne of compassion is one build on bloodshed and he know it all too well. He supposes that is a mercy in and of its own; wherever you end up, you’ll at least be far away from the heart of this mess. 

As the sun peaks over the horizon you take your final act of freedom, make your final choice you will make without being afraid for what comes next, or wondering what consequences there may be. You will not follow the orders of another or let expectation lead your way. You press your lips against his; a sweet kiss but one filled with heartache and longing. You let yourself indulge in it and Eris does too for the kiss is as much of a release of pent up emotion as it is for you. It is a goodbye and so it ends much faster than either of you had hoped. The Forest House stirs awake and so you pull apart.

Eris sees the look in your eyes; accepted defeat, but something else too; content for if this is your last moment of freedom, then you are glad you shared it with him. Wordlessly you relay this. You make it so he cannot doubt it. You offer him one final peck before you step away. The warmth on his cheek disappears. You take a deep breath and he does too. Neither dare speak the word, for speaking it into existence makes it true. Farewell. And as the first rays of sunlight reach him, he finds them so cold for you are gone in the blink of an eye. He feels ever so lonely, and abandoned. Among the roots of the tree you made yourselves comfortable, he finds a flower, the wilting autumn petals of deep carmine, the last reminder of you. 

Not long after that day, that event, a she-devil walked onto this continent with a hunger for power beyond any other. After the match that was made for you came to light, it became unknown where you would go and Eris found himself exerting his resources to find you, where you ended up. His father would not reveal, and the nobles were dead ends. You’d ended up in another court, far beyond his reach but he would not give up. He could not give up… Not until that fated day where the curses befell and his fate was one doomed under the mountain. The only blessing he received there was you were nowhere to be found. The first and only whispers of your name he heard came from the Spring Court. You’d be safe there. Safe for a few decades until you could flee and he hoped you would, hoped you had no reasons to linger, no attachments left worthy to risk your own life. Should this curse be broken and should the devil be defeated he vowed to find you. 

It would be the last promise Eris would ever make and that is to lay eyes upon you once more when you would be safe. He would promise you happiness for your happiness makes his. It is entirely selfless and leads him to believe there might be more to you. Every night when he goes to sleep he dreams of you, the time you spent on that fated night, and dreams of what your future might hold should he find you. Would you welcome him? Would it be the same? Or would you turn him away for he is but a figment of a past you left behind. Five decades have nearly passed. Five decades. Each time the monsters linger into the Spring Court and come back with victims screaming, crying and torn to shreds he begs you are not there. He has been lucky so far and so he holds hope, hope you are well, hope that the queen’s reign will come to an end and with her Eris will walk free once more. He will find you. He must. Even if it is the last thing he does because without you, he does not think he can be a good male. He does not think he can hold at bay the horrors he faced, and the ones that haunt him still. Your smile will vanquish them. Your voice will lull him to the havens of peace. You will lead him to his freedom. 

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

Last Christmas

Author: Anonymous

Warnings: brief mention of theoretical amputation

Today's first fic is from a new author who has chosen to remain anonymous for now but has gifted us with a fascinating window into the relationship between Dumbledore and Snape. ______________________________

He wanted time off from the brats but a week away from the castle meant a week of Pettigrew, which was somehow worse. The man was so odious he made even bullying him feel like a chore. Besides, the Dark Lord had told him to remain at Hogwarts.

He had endured the Christmas dinner, barely. Albus' high spirits were genuine, but the Christmas cheer among the other staff felt forced, and it had rubbed off on everyone else, with the exception of Hagrid, who was too thick to notice.

The Fenwick siblings had huddled together at one end of the table, faces pinched with worry. Filius had been talking about it in the staff room last week: their mother had been attacked for publishing a pro-muggle pamphlet. Yes, he'd thought, mother in St Mungo's and I know who put her there, and then: father in the ground these past 16 years, and I know who put him there too.

In the staff room after lunch he'd lost at chess to Minerva twice, beat Albus once, then provoked an argument with Pomona about alihotsy cultivation before getting bored when he realised she was drunk.

(Severus abhorred drunkenness. He hadn't been drunk since his teenage years, and even then the loss of control had terrified him.)

He'd left rudely when Hagrid returned from the Hog's Head, and prowled the castle, hoping to find some miscreant child naïve enough to think he wouldn't deduct house points on Christmas Day.

And now it was late, and he was in Albus' office. The snow was thicker than before, with great clods landing on the window pane. He sat on a window seat, leaning against the glass while Albus fussed about pouring drinks.

"I'm to drink with you until you become sentimental and tell me what you're teaching Potter" he said.

"I fear I can only comply with only half of that instruction" said Albus, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"In fact, I must confess to being a little sentimental already. It is, after all, my last Christmas."

At this Severus scowled, and then, looking into his drink said "I still think if I took it off above the elbow it might stop the spread, at least in the short term —"

But Albus raised both hands to silence him.

"Severus" he said, quite gently "you know how this must play out. I made my choice, and now nor you nor I nor anyone else can stop that which must surely come."

Severus grunted in begrudging acquiescence and they both drank in silence, before Albus resumed.

"Talking of those who have tasks - how is the Malfoy boy?"

"The little idiot won't speak to me. Caught him trying to gatecrash Horace's awful do at the end of term, but for what purpose I've no idea."

"Surely he realises the instruction to assassinate me is a punishment?"

"Yes. But - I cannot reach him. He's too stubborn to change, too proud to ask for help, and too spoilt to think he might fail. In short, he's too like his father."

He saw amusement flit across Albus' face.

"What?"

"You'll not thank me for saying it, but save for the name you could have been describing Harry."

Somewhat disbelievingly, he said "You bring up Potter, to me, on Christmas day?!"

"My apologies, Severus" said Albus meekly, but there was an infuriating twinkle in his eye.

Severus turned his glass in his hand. It was crystal, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. He wondered how it would feel to throw it into the fire.

"Well. Draco does not trust me. And that may be the undoing of us all."

"Oh, come now Severus. I doubt very much that I will meet my death at the hand of Draco Malfoy. In fact, I think I will go so far as to say I would not permit that to happen."

"Of course: only I will be permitted that great honour" said Severus, with heavy sarcasm and not a small amount of bitterness.

Albus did not answer for a long time, and when he did it was slowly, as if feeling for the next step down a dark staircase.

"I know I ask much of many, but of none more than you... except perhaps the boy. It is a cold, cold game we play, and this war will not be won by doing what is kind, but what is needful. I wish it were otherwise. I don't underestimate the pain I must put you through next year, when the Order is turned against you."

Severus rolled his eyes. "What pain? Everyone hates me already."

Albus looked at him seriously, one of his piercing looks, head tilted to one side.

"It is worth putting some thought now into managing your relationships with the rest of the staff once I am gone. Minerva will be angry and defiant, Pomona confused and hurt -"

"- Filius will focus primarily on the welfare of his house, Horace will be frightened and therefore obsequious, Trelawney will drink even more than usual, Hooch and Vector will resign, or more likely flee the country, Pomfrey will carry on as if nothing has happened. At some point Minerva, egged on by Hagrid, will come up with a plot to kill me. If she brings Filius into the loop he will talk her out of it, arguing that it's better to have me, a known and therefore manageable opponent, rather than whichever Death Eater the Dark Lord would see fit to replace me with. Pomona will agree with him, and argue that we should try to appeal to my better nature, but her true motivation will be fear rather than any real conviction."

"Astute as ever, Severus" said Albus. He seemed mollified, although Severus had no doubt that they would revisit this topic again and again until Albus was satisfied.

As their conversation turned to lighter topics, he wondered for the thousandth time if Albus trusted him. He wondered if he trusted Albus, and concluded he trusted him more than anyone else alive, although admittedly that meant very little.

Finally, a gold clock balanced on a bookshelf chimed. Severus had no idea why, as by his watch it was twenty three minutes to one in the morning, but Albus seemed to consider this was time for bed.

"Merry Christmas Severus, my friend", he said. For an awful moment he thought Albus was going to try and hug him, but he just stood there, smiling slightly in his ridiculous glittering Christmas robes.

Severus would usually make some sort of sarcastic comment on his way out, but an honest impulse made him say "Merry Christmas to you too, Albus".

He rarely used the Headmaster's name, and he saw a flash of emotion cross his face before Albus dismissed him with a nod.

He closed the door of study behind him. It was his last Christmas too, in any sense that mattered. For so long his life at Hogwarts had seemed never-ending, the cycle of the school years as repetitive as the long spiral staircase he now descended. But all that had seemed endless would soon be ending. Next year, if all went to plan, he would be Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Dark Lord's favoured servant, and a traitor and a murderer in the eyes of those he fought for. The only man who understood him at all would be dead, and at his hand.

If all did not go to plan, he would most likely be dead too.

Outside, the snow fell steadily and hard, obscuring all that lay below. 

[itsfrenchfornothankyou]

Hey @spoonergodofspoons has gotten far enough in one piece for me to start recommending fanfics so I thought it would be easiest to post them here! Consider this my one piece fanfics rec list for people who recently got halfway through dressrossa

Part 1: early asl reunions

Look I am a sucker for these fics, and aren't we all a little in denial about marineford?

A present that's a mystery (giving you your history) by midnightluck you might see that name a couple of times here, I love their fics so much idk if they have a tumblr

Anyway this is about 5.5k of sabo getting his memories back early (because koala found embarrassing baby photos of him for his birthday) and reunion fluff, one chapter for Ace, one chapter for Luffy

Wish by spirit and if yes by midnightluck LOOK I TOLD YOU THEYRE REALLY GOOD AND I LIKE THIS ONE EVEN MORE THAN THE LAST!! it's an au where the RA send someone to keep in touch with the whiteboards every now and again, and now it's sabo's job! This fic has my favourite reunion of all time and I won't say anymore because if there's one fic on this list you should read it's this one - 32k

Twin flames by soccersarah01 , again, no idea if they have a tumblr

Ace calls sabo his twin while in impel down and this has .. consequences. Reunion! Gol D Sabo! Fucking with the government! What more could you ask for in a fic! 66.666k

Speak up boys! By @plantwithoutplot , a solid contender for just being one of my favourite fics ever, it's currently sitting at about 69k (nice) and chapter 9/31 and look I know it's incomplete but it's SO GOOD

it's a time travel au, where the asl bros end up on Gol D Roger's ship. Ace is trying to commit patricide, Sabo is trying to be the reasonable one and Luffy is... Luffy. Everybody is having a rough time of it and auuugggg the angst of being reunited but knowing you have changed so much and what if you don't know them anymore and what if you are no longer the person they loved and AHHHH go read it!! Read it now!!!

Chasing the remnants by @29rynoah sabo goes with dragon to loguetown! This one moves a little slower than the others in terms of how long it takes for the characters to actually be reunited, but the writing is really good!! The payoff when they finally get to see each other again? The character work? Incredible, 40k and I know I said it moves slower but when I was reading it I swear it only felt like 10k

Being together we are stronger than ever by starryyah

Body swap! ASL can have a little body swap, as a treat! I'm sure nothing will go wrong! 13k

Part 2: Lawlu!

Okay, I know I'm a big proponent of platonic lawlu and I cannot see Luffy in any kind of romantic relationship I really can't- however some people are writing really good lawlu and I am a little bit closing my eyes and saying yes it is queerplatonic. To me.

I Love Luffy by missdreamgirl32 you know what I just want to steal one of their tags to sell this to you: Law tries to play three-dimensional chess against two guys playing go fish and loses

The character dynamics in this are so fucking good, I'm also actually just going to steal the summary right from the work because I get way to lost trying to explain everything else which is cool about this fic if I try to synopsise it:

After hearing Luffy off-handedly mention he has a boyfriend, and worried there might be some misunderstanding, Ace and Sabo decide to track the guy down and invite him out to dinner

Anyway it's really fucking good check it out it's only 10k I have read it... Many times (could be read as romantic, I do not)

The mysterious Torao by spooky_vallimo

This one is romantic but it's so fucking funny, spare 3k words worth of time to read this drabble, au where Luffy and Trafalgar met as kids, if you enjoy it there are some more works in the series

Come to sea with me, where we can be free by siojo

This is the only au that's set in a completely different world on this list, I guess I love Luffy is a different world but it's not fantasy different, its more a modern au

Anyway siren AU!

this one is again, a lil different to the others on the list, which are largely character studies

This one is on the list because I'm a little obsessed with the story aside from one piece characters? It's just really well written and has interesting lore and world building

It's also kind of a sad/bittersweet fic, and some of the characters do eat humans (because siren) so yeah, this one has a different vibe to the other fics on this list but it occupies a certain space in my brain, only 8k

Part 3: Miscellaneous!

This is ASL stuff that isn't necessarily early reunion, or is only about one or two of them

The world doesn't deserve you by dezace

Okay so what if I told you there is an au where asl brothers are pirates together as children? And that it was 47k and had other works in the same universe?

Great, you're on board? Now, this is the only fic on this list to have made me cry

It is HEAVY ANGST and Spooner I know I'm making this list for you but it will HURT YOU and you may not want to read it, the ASL bros may be alive but they were the only survivors after a buster call was made on goa, and everyone else on the island died, and everyone believes the trio to be dead for a very long time

But if you do decide to read this fic which will hurt you, the emotional catharsis at the end is REALLY GOOD!! and there are many more short stories in the universe!!

But if this all seems a bit too ouch, the this author has a different, more light hearted series: Luffy was raised as a marine and makes it everyone's problem, which is a fun good time where Luffy knows marine codes and uses them to save ace, among other things

Man I wanna go reread the world doesn't deserve you again

On brotherhood by @ladycrimsonandblack

This is a lovely little fic where Luffy is the elder brother, just over 4k

There's this very specific fic niche where Luffy is older and he meets up with Ace while Ace is unwillingly being recruited onto the whiteboards and I just love it, this is the second one I've read and now I'm going to see if I can track down the other

Update this is it

Anyway yeah this is a very specific genre of fic, but it turns out I'm very fond of it

Whatever you can still betray by midnightluck

Have something short fun and fluffy! In this fic Haruta of the whitebeards thinks Ace is a marine spy, but that's fine they're going to keep him anyway! 6.5k, one of my faves

[jasdiary]

“They say the most vulnerable piece in chess is the queen…would you like to play a game so I can show you who’s really vulnerable?~”

Full Name : Maria Regina Alarik

Nicknames : Mari, Mary, The Queen, Blood drinker, Reine de sang(Rook), Lamprey(Floyd), Lady of Red/Crimson Lady(Vin @authoruio ), Bloody Annoyance(Vin) Darling/j(Ellis @starry-night-rose )

Jp Va : Rie Tanaka

En Va : Lauren Landa

Age : 19

Height : 6’6 (200 cm) *204 cm with heels*

Homeland : Rose Kingdom

Birthday : November 2 (11/2)

Zodiac sign : Scorpio

Species : Beheaded being

Hair Color : Buttery Blonde (wine red highlights)

Eye Color : Wine red (Black scleras when using magic)

Gender : Female (She/Her)

Sexuality : Bisexual

Family : Amélie Alarik(mother)

Occupation : Student at Night Raven College, Member of Terrovania dorm

Twisted From : Bloody Mary from Identity V

Dorm : Terrovania ( @terrovaniadorm !)

School Year : 3rd Year

Class : 3-C

Best Subject : Poison Making, Conjuration

Worst Class : Animal Languages

Club : Film Studies

Dominant Hand : Ambidextrous

Favorite Food : Roasted Poultry

Least Favorite Food : Vegetables

Likes : Artwork, Fashion designing, Making her own clothes, Drinking, Chess

Dislikes : Her poor handwriting, Overconfident men, Being judged based off her looks

Hobbies : Horseback Riding, Gardening, Decorating random areas

Talents : Harp playing, Dancing, Singing, Speaking multiple languages

Personality :

Maria’s known for being self-confident, mischievous, and even comes off as cocky sometimes. She’s pretty popular and many people know her as she’s a genuinely easy person to talk to if you try! Maria is very much aware of how she looks to people : Intimidating and sly. Maria get’s visibly down and upset when she notices people steer away from her, she tried not to show it or talk about it but it does hurt her. Due to her mothers image and presence, people do tend to have some kind of expectation of her. Overall, Maria can be snarky, lovingly mean and a big tease!

Unique Magic :

Blood Stained Glass

“I’ll call checkmate now, hope that’s fine. Now, feast your eyes upon this Blood Stained Dome of mine!”

The user has the ability to summon a dome of mirrors surrounding them and those around. The user will create an image of themselves and can enter and run through any mirror, mirroring the original user's movements. The user and their image cannot touch, or the image will disappear leaving the user’s original body to travel through the mirrors. When this power reaches its limit, all the mirrors will shatter with blood seeping through the cracks and onto the glass. Drawbacks from this power are blood loss, dizziness and loss of reality.

Backstory :

Maria grew up with a loving and lavish mother. Amélie Alarik was known as one of the greatest magic wielders in the Rose Kingdom, always being rivaled by Iracebeth Rosehearts. Maria’s mother didn't care for rivalries, note the fame she has. She simply cared about providing the best life for her daughter, promising to love her forever.

As Maria grew and went out more, she always wondered why people would avoid her. While her mothers influence had been a reason, her blood is what makes her feared. The Alarik family is made of these supernatural beings , specifically beheaded ones. Once a child in the family reaches a certain age, their head will fall off and get stitches to reattach it. Amélie wanted to avoid telling this to Maria for as long as she could since she was a late bloomer to magic, she also always covered her neck up so her stitches weren’t visible.

Then it happened.

Maria felt sleepy that evening after school when her head started to droop. When she tried to snap awake, it was her head that snapped off. Maria could see her own headless body sitting on the couch, body shaking violently. All she could do was scream and cry.

Her mother ran into the room and regretted her decision to keep this family curse a secret. She did her best to calm Maria down while carefully picking her head back up and placing it on the other half of her neck. Amélie brang out her sewing kit that she kept on hand in case she needed a thread change or if…this happened. As she gently sewed Maria’s head back on securely with thick, crimson red thread, she explained to Maria what was going on and apologized for keeping such a secret.

Maria’s life was flipped upside down, she could barely look at herself in the mirror. Eventually, she grew up and matured. She accepted who she was and her flaws. Maria’s happy with her life, and she couldn’t love herself more. This was only the beginning of the Queen whose hands were stained as red as her lipstick.

Random Trivia!

Maria doesn’t get her height from her family genes, she’s just freakishly tall.

The Magic Mirror said her soul was split between Terrovania and Pomefiore, but ultimately decided on Terrovania.

She drinks non-alcoholic wine due to being under the legal drinking age.

Maria loves picking people up like a long cat. She enjoys watching them shut down.

She originally started making her own clothes because no clothes she liked would fit her tall ass.

She’s called “The Queen” because of how she quickly rose up to fame and power in her first year at NRC.

Maria and Vil are extremely close friends. Maria visits Pomefiore’s dorm on a daily basis just to talk shit with Vil.

She’s slightly protective over Riddle, knowing how his mother is.

Another Alarik family gene is black scleras and stained hands. Using any kind of magic will cause them to appear.

She may seem tall and lanky but she’s actually an undercover beefcake. She can definitely carry two people with each arm.

Maria, Vin and Alice( @starry-night-rose ) are usually all seen together, though the two ladies seem to poke fun at poor Vin all the time…