#scary stories animated true
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horrorstories15 · 1 year ago
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The Legacy of Frankenstein scary animated Creepy stories in english,
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captainjade101 · 3 months ago
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Watched a eight year old pluck the wings off a fly.
Giggle.
Forgot the fly can't fly anymore and threw it into the air.
Before going 'oh' and moving on like she didn't just destroy the flies entire life
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deepak376 · 4 months ago
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The Terrifying Tale of the Forest Officer
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ronda1466 · 1 year ago
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The GHOST Finally Made Good on Her DEADLY Promise | The Bell Witch
A family is terrorized by a spirit in their home. Not only do they hear strange noises, but they are also physically attacked. They do everything they can to find peace, but nothing could prepare them for how things would come to a tragic end. Let's watch the entire video and learn about The GHOST Finally Made Good on Her DEADLY Promise | The Bell Witch.
In this video, we are taking a look at the journey through the terrible tale of the Bell Witch haunting. In this spine-tingling story, we explore the unsettling experiences of a family whose home becomes a battleground against an unseen entity.
From unexplained phenomena to tragic consequences, the mysteries surrounding this haunting will leave you questioning the boundaries between the living and the dead. As we unravel the secrets of the Bell Witch, we confront themes of belief in the paranormal, the fragility of home, and the consequences of disturbing the resting places of the departed. Through meticulous research and a cinematic narrative style, I bring this haunting tale to life, inviting you to ponder the existence of ghosts and the consequences of inviting spirits into our lives.
We can also explore the history, examining the doubts and uncertainties surrounding this infamous case. From the questionable involvement of General Jackson to the eerie prophecies of the witch herself, every detail adds another layer to the chilling mystery.
So, grab your headphones, brace yourself for the unknown, and let's uncover the truth behind the Bell Witch haunting together. Don't forget to like, subscribe, and stay tuned for more scary stories on my channel. Until next time, stay safe, and may peace be with you.
Let's Connect!
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yzzart · 12 days ago
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I read your stuff for Dante and ohmegosh!! Just the kind of fluff one can enjoy after a grueling day ^-^
If you're still interested in Scenarios, how about one where his girl is in danger?
I don't know, I just can't help but picture a scary calm Dante going in to save his girl (maybe even angry enough to activate Devil Trigger) and his girl, safe, if not still freaked out- sees he's still angry, and tries to crack a joke just to help bring her boy back down from the rage- then him just laughing weakly at her joke before pulling her in for a tight but still gentle hug
WANNA KEEP ON ROLLIN', BABY! ── DANTE
── content warnings: F!reader, reference to the anime, mention of Devil Trigger and Sparda, words mentioning violence, jokes and puns.
── word count: 824!
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They came to you. — Capable of being neglected, wicked to execute any malevolence, cruelty for exultation, will; sustaining the pure hatred that ran in their blood and determined and unwilling to spread torture and killing to anyone. — And with the assistance of an organization.
It was funny, ironic, in that case, that the characteristics mentioned could, without thinking, fit DARKCOM. — And Dante suspected, knew, that they influenced his location to those damned ones.
The so-called “Lieutenant Arkham” mentioned your name in Dante’s ears as she unnaturally tried to kill him. — She expressed and articulated questions related to you, without conveying the disgust and anger she felt for the demon hunter. — This man held himself back from ripping off, at the very least, her skin entirely.
You have been kidnapped. — Involved, attached to an ambush and enduring, being subjected, to the role of hostage; trying not to go crazy, to convey a horrified and weak reaction. — The weird and wretched white rabbit warned that he would stab the half-demon's weaknesses; from the amulet to the woman he loves.
Sparda's son — a reality that would need time to gain recognition — would not make his father's mistake, leaving and causing the lack of protection and death of his wife. — Even if that means eternal destiny in the underworld or the end of possible humanity.
Damn, that would be, respectfully, extraordinary with a soundtrack in the background. — He couldn't help but think; that was so cheesy, it was Dante's kind of thing.
These things, uttered by the merciless mouth of the disproportionate easter bunny, of “devil trigger” or “true form” that ran through Dante sounded like pure nonsense; something that he, even being a dumb chatterbox, would not think. — Until they revealed themselves to him, they reciprocated his fury, hatred and transformed him into a certain creature that he did not recognize. — However, he feared that his appearance could be a part of who Sparda was.
Dante never saw, verified — or created, relatively, with his imagination and creativity — the true appearance of Sparda; obviously, he heard stories or narratives about him. — But, he heard from those stupid brutes that he looked like the traitorous demon.
Deep down, if he ended up alive, he would delve deeper, searching with efficiency and interest, into the true story of his father. — Without having something trustworthy, or a living witness who wouldn't want to end his skin, Dante would have a long road ahead. — Everyone wanted a piece of him, what a desired man.
Recovering his honesty with himself, Dante only hoped that you would get used to his new image; and he hoped that you would like it too. — He has wings, rocky structures of pure red and lava predominated his body, horns and eyes, terribly, yellow. — It was still him.
It was still Dante.
“Dante?” — ​​Your voice determined strangeness, at the same time, fascination and not insinuating a panic or disgust of the demonic creature before your eyes; carrying an impetuous composure in the environment, which was, totally, destroyed. — “I can’t believe it…?”
“In flesh, bone and claws.” — The altered voice, barely recognized, conveyed feigned enthusiasm, displacing the fury of the previous moment, the man suggested a pun. — “It’s all kind of new to me.” — He tilted his head, feeling the weight of the horns; Dante was taller, not that it changed anything between the height difference between you before his transformation. — “Very new, actually.”
It was recognizable, and somewhat indescribable, that there was a deep mixture of emotions rising in Dante's chest; just as his voice determined frustration and bitter anger. — A disturbance that he began to feel the first second his amulet was taken from him. — And they had almost done the same thing to you.
Sliding your eyes over your boyfriend's robust and impressive, hellish body, you captured lines, reminiscent of lava, shining as he breathed; enraged reactions remained in Dante. — You couldn't judge him, but you also couldn't leave him like that.
“At least you won’t have to worry about transportation, will you?” — Not knowing what to actually do to help him, you had to use his own weapon: his lame puns. — “Is it faster than a plane, big boy?” — ​​You were referring to the wings, which made Dante’s body like his coat.
Sparda's son laughed, exclaiming a sudden and sharp laugh, making your skin crawl as he listened and he could not believe that you would be subject to consuming your comedian side at a time like this.
“I don’t know, ma'aam.” — He moved his body, showing off, and with reason and without problems, your eyes contemplated more than they should, planning something. — “Do you want to find out for yourself?” — Taking control and opening his wings, signaling that he was about to take you out of there, Dante suggested putting the plan into practice. — "Why don’t demons fly first class?"
Yeah, Dante was still Dante.
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kamidreams · 2 years ago
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a horror story in 5 pics
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nickeverdeen · 5 months ago
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Hey, could I get an imagine with Ekko x introverted!GN!reader who looks scary, serious and cold at first glance, but is actually just socially awkward and very geeky and silly once you get to know them? Like, they're very creative and love coming up with stories, as well as infodumping about random stuff they're into at the moment, like criminology or extinct animals.
Thanks!
Unmasking the Introvert | Ekko x gn!reader
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Pairings: Ekko x gn!reader (romantic)
Type of fic: I’m not sure
Warnings: None
Summary: Ekko is slowly getting to know your true side
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Ekko had always been intrigued by you. From the first time he’d caught a glimpse of you in Zaun, he’d pegged you as the silent type, intense with that don’t-mess-with-me aura. You were usually found in the corner of any room you entered, often watching others with a gaze that could cut through glass. Most people didn’t get close enough to try talking to you, content with spreading rumors instead: some said you had a secret criminal past; others thought you might have alchemical powers that could hypnotize anyone with a glance.
But Ekko didn’t buy it. He knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. So, he decided to talk to you himself, casually striking up a conversation at the Hideout one day after he’d noticed you tinkering with something in the corner.
“Hey, whatcha working on?” Ekko leaned over your shoulder, watching as your hands deftly tightened screws and adjusted wires.
Caught off guard, you jerked slightly, glancing up at him with wide eyes. But you quickly masked it, pulling up that familiar guarded expression, making Ekko smirk a bit. He wasn’t easily intimidated.
“Just… something I’m building,” you replied coolly, your voice steady but your eyes shifting nervously. “Helps me think.”
Intrigued, Ekko leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Mind if I watch?”
You didn’t answer immediately, but after a brief pause, you nodded. As he watched, you slowly began explaining each piece of machinery, your voice growing a bit stronger and more assured with each word. After a while, he noticed the hardened look in your eyes beginning to soften. By the time you’d finished the explanation, your whole demeanor had relaxed just a bit.
A few days later, Ekko bumped into you again, and you couldn’t help but launch into an animated explanation about something random you’d been reading about—extinct animals. Before you knew it, you were on a full-blown tangent about the Moa bird, a giant flightless bird from New Zealand that had been hunted to extinction centuries ago.
“They were enormous, like ten feet tall, with these long necks! And did you know their legs were so powerful that one kick could shatter bones?” Your eyes lit up as you spoke, hands gesturing wildly. “It’s kinda sad… but also fascinating how ecosystems just change when one creature disappears.”
Ekko just grinned, genuinely enjoying the infodump. He’d never expected that someone as intense-looking as you could be so endearing in such a nerdy way. “That’s cool, I didn’t know that. What got you into extinct animals?”
You shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I just… like learning about things. And sharing them, even though I know most people think it’s boring.”
“Boring? Nah, I think it’s cool. You got any other fun facts up your sleeve?”
You blinked in surprise, before diving into your latest fascination—criminology. He listened as you passionately detailed the science behind forensic psychology, your eyes lighting up as you explained how criminals are profiled. At one point, you started mimicking a detective’s voice, spinning a little story about a fictional thief in Zaun who’d slipped through the Enforcers’ hands multiple times.
Ekko laughed, “You’d make a great storyteller. Ever thought of putting all these ideas into a book or something?”
The suggestion took you aback. “I don’t know… I just think people wouldn’t really get it.”
“Bet they would,” Ekko said with a reassuring smile. “And hey, even if they don’t, I’m all ears.”
Over time, your quiet bond grew stronger. Ekko made a habit of stopping by to hear your latest “random obsession,” and you found yourself looking forward to sharing with him, little by little letting go of the intimidating front you put up for the world.
One night, he found you on a rooftop, writing notes in a worn-out notebook by the light of the moon. You looked up as he approached, giving him a slight nod in greeting, but he could see the glint of excitement in your eyes.
“What’s on your mind tonight?” he asked, settling down beside you.
You paused for a second, before leaning in and saying, “Alright, so imagine this: a heist, set in Piltover, but the thieves are all masked vigilantes from Zaun… and they have this backstory, see, where they all have these ridiculous alter-egos…”
And as you spun your tale, Ekko watched you with a smile, feeling lucky to be the one who got to see you like this: genuine, animated, and maybe a little silly.
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sonicblueartist · 1 year ago
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What about a one-shot or just a suggestive story where Shadow takes advantage of y/n?
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A/n: I'm probably gonna get all the fans' attention with this one huh? I normally don't write anyone but Tails but I am making an expection for some reason today. Have a good read I guess! Idk why I write what I write today XD Sorry for the long wait.
I left you guys in a cliffhanger. hah! idk if I would continue tho
Masterlist
Pairings: Shadow x Reader
They/them // She/her // He/him // Other
Summery; Eggman made a new weapon out of Shadow. Let's see what it is
Warnings: smut, lemon, suggestive themes, blood, marking, biting, tearing flesh, attempted rape
Word Count: 1371
Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?
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As your eyes flickered over him in fear, you were instantly struck by the sharp and scary aura emanating from his breathtaking violet eyes. Shadow stood before you, his chest heaving rapidly as if he had just completed a long and demanding marathon. His fur was damp, drenched in sweat, and his claws peeked out menacingly from his gloves. His fangs were visible, adding to the unnerving sight that confronted you. But what puzzled you most was the absence of any evidentiary explanation for his condition, except for one haunting phrase that echoed in your mind.
"What do you think is the most natural instinct of an animal, the most wild and scary one?" Eggman's voice resonated in your head, reminding you of his words moments ago. "Their bloodlust? Hunger to stay alive? Maybe. But there is something else that is much *more* dangerous and entertaining. 'The will to do anything to death for their mate.' "
The memory of Eggman's sinister revelation half an hour ago flooded your mind. You hadn't expected this game of catch to turn into something so disturbing. Though you had managed to catch your breath, your heart still raced uncontrollably, struggling to make sense of the unsettling situation unfolding before you.
Your eyes widened in fear as Shadow took deliberate steps toward you, raising the possibility of him falling victim to Eggman's trap, turning against his friends. A sense of terror gripped you, leaving you feeling trapped with no way to escape. Desperately, you scanned your surroundings, searching for an exit, but found nothing. You found yourself backed into a dead end.
"And to mate, of course." Your throat tightened as you heard Eggman's words reverberating in your mind. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—Shadow was hungry, thirsty for you. Eggman's twisted plans had successfully turned him, and now the true extent of Shadow' instincts became clear. No, this couldn't be true. Shadow wouldn't do this to you, would he? The shocking dishonor of Eggman's manipulation left you bewildered, unable to fathom the torment inflicted upon your friends.
"C-come on, Shadow. This isn't you," you started nervously, your voice shaking. "We both know that you don't wanna do this. Behave yourself! Think logically, like you always do! We're still in Eggman's base. He's playing with you, with your mind, your instincts! You are the ultimate life form, damn it! You can't just succumb to Eggman like that! There are Badniks running around, and if they find us, we're finished-"
Your plea was interrupted as Shadow forcefully pinned both his hands beside your head, a whimper left your lips in fear. A deep snarl escaping his lips as you attempted to slide away. Trapped between him and the wall, you realized the extent of his transformation. No longer the loyal companion you once knew, he approached you with predatory purpose, garnered by one sole instinct—breeding. You were left with a terrifying decision. Would you become the first to fall at his hands before the Badniks got to you?
After examining his prey's frightened face for a while, Shadow slowly lowered himself, his nose skimming along your neck. His actions mirrored those of a true animal, inhaling your scent as his salivating mouth revealed his primal desire for your presence. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the horrifying nature of the situation.
Attempting to muster the strength to push him away, you fought against his grip, but his strength surpassed anything you could have imagined. Like an iron vice, his grasp held firm, rendering your efforts fruitless. In spite of the predicament you found yourself in, you couldn't help but be mesmerized by Shadow' well-built form, his muscles flexing in the most hypnotic manner.
You quickly shook away such distracting thoughts, forcing yourself to concentrate on finding a way out of this nightmare. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape as Shadow began to suckle at your neck and shoulder, exhaling his hot breath in sporadic bursts. The sounds he made only served to further ignite the blazing heat that reddened your face, flooding you with a mix of desire and terror.
Suppressing a moan, you desperately struggled to redirect your focus, your mind racing for an escape plan. Yet, how could you concentrate on anything other than the overpowering dominance Shadow exhibited? Pressed against the wall by his scorching body, each breath and moan he emitted only served to remind you of the pleasure he was experiencing.
Amidst his sloppy kisses and teasing nibbles, you fought fiercely against the sensations threatening to consume you, trying to maintain your composure. However, as Shadow momentarily eased the pressure of his body against yours, he replaced it with his leg pressed against your groin, effectively preventing any escape. The mix of pain and pleasure elicited a whine from your lips, pushing Shadow to suckle at your shoulder with renewed vigor.
Finally, he got bored and withdrew from his sloppy territory. The room grew suffocatingly silent as he moved his fangs along your throat, gently biting a few places, feeling your heartbeat increasing. He licked his lips and shifted his attention to your other shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses and sucking hungrily, leaving little marks. But it seemed like that wasn't enough for him anymore; he growled, as if yearning for something more primal.
With his fingers deeply entwined in your hair, he pulled, causing you to gasp, displaying your neck like a plate of meal to him. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, his fangs piercing through your skin. Tears slipped from your eyes as you cried out in pain. He let your arms go and held you tightly from your waist, as you gripped his back for support. You closed your eyes, gritting your teeth, and unwillingly scratched his back in pain. It felt as though his teeth were digging deeper into your shoulder, testing your limits.
Shadow let out a pleasured sigh through his nose, not yet satisfied. He continued biting harder than before, his eyes closed as he let out an animalistic growl. The realization that he could break your neck in half if he wanted sent a shiver through your spine. He sucked your blood with such thirst leaving you weak as you sobbed silently, drinking and swallowing it all as if he hadn't had a drop in weeks.
Before things grew any wilder, he pulled back, a string of blood and saliva still connecting the two of you. Panting for air, he tried to lick all the blood flowing from his mouth with his tongue, his breath hot against your face. Your blood flowed from your shoulder to your chest.
Satisfied with the mark he left on you, Shadow now went for your lips. Gripping your form, he forced his lips onto yours, connecting them. You hesitated, not wanting to taste the disgusting blend of your blood and his saliva. He pulled your hair once again, and when you whimpered in pain, he immediately seized the opportunity and engaged in a fierce kiss, taking your breath away.
Your heart raced as his hand wandered across your body in a manner both unnerving and inquisitive. He marked his territory, staking claim to every inch of your being. Your mind battled to comprehend the situation, as your body responded to his predatory touch.
Fighting the rising panic, you summoned your inner strength you managed to wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt to distract him. As your lips collided in a feverish kiss, you hoped to manipulate the situation to your advantage.
To your surprise, he welcomed your advances. He tilted his head, letting out a low, carnal moan. Sensing that this could be your one chance to regain control, you decided to play along. You pushed aside your feelings of self-disgust and harnessed your newfound determination.
As you passionately kissed, your mind churned, searching for an escape plan. With each stolen moment, you became acutely aware of his animalistic nature, his primal desires, and his desperate need to assert dominance. Yet, instead of submitting to the imminent danger, an idea began to form in your mind.
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badninken · 3 months ago
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Scary Warlord of the Sea - Trafalgar Law
I want to talk about Law's introduction on Punk Hazard, and the fight that follows. Starting with this moment:
It's been an eternity since Law's last appearance in the story when this takes place, and it's the first time he shows up after the time skip. Last time he was seen he was a sleepy-faced dude with a polar bear friend who saved Luffy's life. A bit weird but not very intimidating. This Law though, is first seen skulking in the shadows, offering to help the local villain take care of a notoriously "insane, cruel, and merciless" bunch of marines that's come knocking.
Is Trafalgar Law a villain now? Is he in charge of this very evil-seeming science facility??
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Well, he sure looks shady enough to be a villain, and the notoriously merciless marines seem scared out of their fucking minds to see him.
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This scene is shorter in the manga but I love the way the anime drags it out by having Tashigi name-drop other Warlords to put his new title and status into perspective. The marines are literally screaming, crying, throwing up over how scary he is, retelling the story of his 100 hearts delivery, all while Law just stands there, smiling.
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And that's the thing I wanna talk about. The standing and smiling and how he acts throughout this whole encounter. The way he's leaning against that wall just like he's leaning on his own reputation to do all the work for him. His job in this situation is to scare these people away without letting them know what's going on behind those doors.
If it weren't for Smoker standing his ground, the marines might have simply turned to flee at the sight of him, without Law even having to lift a finger to encourage them. Smoker seems to be having a hard time getting around Law's arguments too. They're both working under the government here and Law doesn't offer any outright hostility or threat for him to act on. Because Law is smart.
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Law is handling this navy problem non-violently with minimal effort and it seems to be going according to plan.
But then the Straw hats happen!
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And also giant abducted children used for science experiments he had no knowledge of what so ever because he's been minding his own fucking business.
And now he has to deal with taking the blame for horrifying child abuse AND looking like he blatantly lied about the Straw hats and also looking like he's incompetent enough to let all those dirty secrets pop out right behind him in a rain of fucking confetti at the worst possible moment.
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(does not deny this)
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He looks like he just aged ten years out of pure 'what the actual fuck'-stress. Like, where does he even begin with this situation? He's not responsible for any of that shit. He's just there to destroy some other evils, as discreetly as possible, but now he has to silence an entire unit of marines, just so the mess other people made won't ruin his own plans. Plans that's he's worked on for 13 years. Sounds like a typical Trafalgar Law day.
So he apologizes for saying something that wasn't true and then he handles the problem by causing massive property damage.
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While not causing any lasting harm or even pain on a single one of his opponents.
The thing I think is so interesting with looking at Law's behavior in these interactions, is how he plays a role the entire time. He is not a villain, but he deliberately lets people believe that he is capable of great evil and cruel acts for his own gain, because that's his defense. It's a deterrent and a warning. His yellow black patterned coat fits that strategy perfectly, like the message of a wasp or poison dart frog. I can kill you, stay clear.
He keeps the cold, creepy act up the entire battle and makes it known that he could kill everyone there. Easily. He's never even close to trying though, and when he takes Smoker's heart he keeps it safe.
Law has no problem letting people believe horrible things about him if it can get him where he needs to go, but he's famously got a bunch of problems with people thinking he's a good person. I think that plays heavily into why he falls to being Doflamingo-cruel verbally to Tashigi when she goads him to kill her, but there are too many layers and things to say about that particular exchange so I'll save it for another time.
At the end of the day, it's all about this I think:
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Law hearing people call him a creepy freak madman vs hearing Luffy say he's lucky to have met him.
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sr-pelo · 1 month ago
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Did you ever anticipate how big Spooky Month would get? It started out as some silly shitpost, and then it grew into an animated series with lore and a dedicated fanbase, which would probably be pretty insane from your perspective, I’d imagine.
Nope, to be honest I never expected to be part of indie animation. at the time I was not ready and knowlegable to make a cartoon at all, I've been learning over the time hahaha! and it's still stressful every year!!!! All I can be is greatful for all the support creators, Vas, Artists and followers have given me to be in a place where I make the dreams of my middle school self come true!!! In my perspective, I am just wanting to share a story of innocent chaotic halloween kids in a town filled with "real" scary problems!
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mitsua · 2 months ago
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WAKE UP DAMN IT!
synopsis: on a scale from 1 to 100%, how difficult is it to wake them up? (1.08k)
warnings: contains SPOILERS from lesson 16, mentions of nightmares
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lucifer
depends, but most of the times it's 1% since he's a light sleeper, he has to, so his brothers wouldn't burn the house down with any of their antics or so...
depends on the long working nights he pulls out for Diavolo's paperwork pushed on him. In this occasions he may become a 10% difficult to wake up.
his reaction may vary, since he's the one supposed to wake you and the rest of the brothers up, he'd be at first embarrased and surprised.
still, when he recognizes you, he relaxes for a brief moment and mutters a sleepy "thank you MC."
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mammon
may be different from time to time.
the morning next to a horror special sleepover may lead to the both of your getting scared, so it's then a 3% difficult fully wake him up and a 10000% scary. why? Mammon would scream from your light touch on his shoulder to wake him and you'd scream because he did. It would go on like this for at least 2 more times in the same morning.
but when it had been a normal night or a casino one, he'd just whine at your attempts and he may have or have not tried more than once to pull you to bed and sleep again as if you were his sleeping pillow... so does it count as a 90% mostly?
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leviathan
also depends as you can imagine.
when he, for some reason, does not watch anime or plays videogames 'till the alarm goes off, he may be a 1% difficult to wake. unlike Mammon, he'd get scared almost everytime. that you wake him. squeaking a little, he thanks and tells you he'll be ready in a moment.
although when he does sleep late, you'll find one of two sceneries; the most common of these being him still glued to the screen, headphones on, then you'll just have to take them off and he'll make a little sound surprised but won't budge further. the other one is him being fast asleep on his desk and the computer on, a bit of saliva on the corner of his lips threatening to fall.
those occasions it is recommendable to poke or shake just a little his shoulder and still you'll get a big reaction from him and that's it.
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satan
i think he's kind of a heavy sleeper when he gets through the night reading. getting so engrossed on the story he even dreams with it and him being an active participant. then it'd be a 30% difficult to wake him.
your best shot to get him to open his eyes without being scared to dear life? scream from affar something that'd normally pick his interest. here are some examples:
"oh, Lucifer! did you just fall for that? i saw Satan make it! so his plan finally succeeded?!". now that it's a great one but you may have a more difficult time calming him down when you tell him that was a lie. "aww a little stray cat? sir what can I bring to you? oh? you want Satan to feed you? but he's asleep—" well he's not anymore and if it's true that a cat it's at the house's door expect to have a happy Satan for the rest of the day.
when he has a good night sleep, it's 1% difficult, normally he wouldn't miss any of their brothers or your shaking on his shoulder so that'd be enough.
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asmodeus
to begin with, being the only one who has a more decent and planned sleep schedule, it's impressive how difficult it can be than his brothers. he's a 50% when sleeping 8 hours straight in the comfiest bed of the Devildom. this is because when he sees you, he starts whining and doing grabby hands to go to sleep with you now. oh, but if it is any of his brothers? "Asmo, you have to wake up, we have school—" "ok, going..."
but if he had a party night, it's a different story.
if he was not drunk and did a night routine at 5 a.m. to be awake at 6 or 7 a.m. it'd be a 20% difficult to get him, because he'd not be able to sleep quickly. so you'll end up hugging him to recharge him for the day. if he in fact, came drunk, it's a 60%, you'd find a semi-naked Asmo barely resting on the bed with make up all over the pastel-pink sheets. you better know if he had one of these night because Lucifer will not allow to bring him smelling like Demonus.
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beelzebub
he normally has a good sleep because his work outs exhaust him after a big dinner plate he's a sleeping like a baby. for this he's 15% difficult to wake. light touches do nothing to him so you'd have to fully shake him to stir a reaction from him.
in the nights he has to go for a snack at 3 a.m. it decreases to a 7% because he could not stop thinking about going for another round of food. when he has a nightmare he's most likely to keep thinking about it for a complete day, so those days you'll find him awake by himself. ask him why has he been pacing out and looking really down with a snack on your hands.
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belphegor
if he had a nightmare about his family in any way, from them dying, from him being trapped in the attic and fighting with Lucifer through the bars, to the day he killed you... he wouldn't be able to sleep again, so then it'll be a 2% difficult to wake. maybe he'd pout a little but it's his way to bring himself back to reality and see everyone's still alive and he's on his bed in his and Beel's room, so when you're not seeing, he sighs relaxed.
however, when he's having a good dream, it'd be 100% and might have to bring Beel to help you, wether it'd be waking him with his twins trust and playful tactics or carrying him around the house to get him to do something.
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BONUS
the first time you're tasked to wake up Beelzebub, as you may have or not screamed when he turned to face you but still he did not open his eyes, you ran to get any other brother to help you.
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kwillow · 1 month ago
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I just noticed Ambroys eyes are green sometimes, why is that?
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Ah yes... that is because I am an absolute fiend for AUs but also not good at explaining myself. So! Here is an explanation.
Aasimar: His first incarnation, made for a D&D game I played in college that got dropped, then was brought back for a different D&D game years later that was also eventually dropped. But he stuck in my brain. Even though I'm not playing D&D these days, I still like drawing him... he's a rich twit, a glory hound, a paladin of conquest who got his powers through nepotism, and always thought he was the leader of the party (he absolutely was not).
Normal Human Guy (Relatively): This is the green-eyed Ambroys you're talking about! He has green eyes because most people in real life do not have coral pink irises. This version doesn't have a concrete story, he's just here when I want to draw him in preppy fashion and modern-ish day settings, doing (relatively) normal human things.
Forever Gold: Exists in the setting made by my friends LSDolphin and Broncoburro, @forevergoldgame! He has magic fire powers, but every noble idiot in this setting has access to magic, so that doesn't make him special. His function within the setting is to annoy the player. He's more concerned with shoes than politics even though there's a revolution brewing. That probably won't effect him.
Amaranthine (Past): Aka the furry version, who is an important character in Chocodile and I's ludicrous funny animal fantasy story. A once-every-several-generations miracle, and a dream come true who reveals himself to be a nightmare. Not even a particularly scary nightmare, more the kind where you show up to school without clothes and it's just really embarrassing. This is his younger self, who I normally draw in his "sowing discord" phase (he does not enjoy the reaping).
Amaranthine (Present): Like if an aging rockstar decided to make himself pope. Rules a small but powerful city-state with a golden fist. He has more of a veneer of dignity than his younger self, but deep down he's still the same preening, arrogant, attention-hungry douche as ever, except he can have people who piss him off executed now.
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sassylightcycle · 4 months ago
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The Terrifying Tale of the Forest Officer
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postmoe · 4 months ago
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Can you do a Yandere ZZZ men getting rejected. like the genshin version same reason that they just weren't their type and misunderstood. Also I saw this art about Seth older brother.
https://x.com/yougei_/status/1872198958057169238
omg pls if Seth's brother isn't something cool like that. They bring him up slightly in Harumasamasa story and I was so O.O tell me more.
Happy new year everyone! Welcome 01/01/2025!
Wise, Ben, Billy, Anton, Seth, Lycaon, Lighter, Harumasamasa - drugging, fighting, suggestive themes, I think i made it pretty gn so it could go either way, knocking out.
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Wise:
It takes a lot of courage for someone introverted like him to speak up about his feelings. He goes through all the possible scenarios before even bringing this up, deciding that if he's going to be true than he will shoot his shot in person and not message you the dozens of deleted texts he had initially typed.
That's why when you say 'no', it's very disheartening but he's not all that scared about the consequences.
"The city is a terrible place, you know? Generic crime is the least of its worries, not when corruption is rampant in every security and business corporation that exists."
You're not really listening to his rambles, shoulders shaking as you cry through the gag in your mouth, saliva ripping down your chin. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, around the back of the chair you're sitting on and preventing you from moving freely. When Wise finally removes the blindfold from your eyes, the room around you is blurred by your constant tears. He has the generosity to wipe them for you, seeing your a concrete room with a few necessities. A bed in the corner, a small couch, a television with some movie tapes (nothing too scary), a small, wooden coffee table. You see a mini fridge ahead and the bottom of a staircase. There's no windows, though a mirror behind a plastic sheathe in front of you shows a room behind you with a toilet and possibly a shower.
Despite your spit coating your face and the hyperventilation through your nose, he tenderly cups your chin and kisses the corner of your mouth, almost shyly if it weren't for the heated glint in your eyes, "Humans can adjust to anything, with time. Don't worry, you know I'll always keep you safe, with or without your consent."
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Billy:
"What do you mean?! It's because I'm a robot, isn't it? That's low, starlight, suuuper, suuuuuuper low."
You shake your head, smiling innocently with your hands up to indicate that that's not the case at all. "Billy, you're one of the most charming people I know-"
"- Then date me! C'mon, I promise I'll be the perfect partner for you. I'm your knight in shining armour, after all! Literally," he taps against his chest to make a 'ding ting!' sound.
You refuse the laugh that bubbles up, thinking back to all the times he has 'coincidentally' been there when you needed it most. "Yeah, about that... I wanted to talk to you..." How do you say this? 'Billy, be honest, have you been stalking me?' It is probably best to just be out with it, "Have you been following me, Billy? It's kind of weird that we keep running into each other all the time, especially whenever you seem to think I'm 'in danger'." Which could literally be you mis stepping and having him rush over to you in worry from seemingly nowhere.
As a robot, you'd think one of the better things he was capable at was lying. However, the animated nature of his gives him away too easily. He knows that all too well, deciding it was easier to just come out with the truth. Billy nervously rubs the back of his neck, "Ah, Anby said it would come across as creepy... But, you have to understand from my perspective, starlight! You're made of breakable materials. Flesh, bones, muscles, meat, it's all something that can be so easily taken advantage of."
With a sigh, you shake your head, hoping to get through to him since he obviously has the wrong idea about your species, "No, we're not that fragile. Humans-"
"-No, but, see, you are!" He's too into it now, grasping your wrist with little effort. You step back in shock, wincing at the pain, asking him to let go but he doesn't. Billy's voice is softer, the yellow lights of his eyes narrowing in on the pained expression your face so easily portrays, "I'm not even using a lot of pressure here. If you listen closely, you can hear the splitting of your bone. No, seriously! Put your ear to it," he holds up your wrist when you start to cry, looking around desperately for anyone nearby. It's late, not even a bangboo in sight.
With a loud 'snap!', your voice chokes and your crumple to your knees, except Billy doesn't let you fall to the ground. He picks you up in his arms and holds you to his cool, metal chest. He's cooing over you as you cry and cradle your wrist. You look up with such a hurtful expression, "W-Why did you do that? I need a hospital."
As if something clicks, he quickly changes mode and started fretting, holding you tighter, "Oh, shoot! Dammnit, starlight, why'd'ya make me do that? I didn't mean to go that far. Hah... Come on, let's get you home and fix you up. No more late night escapades, 'kay?"
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Ben:
The guilt riding him when he takes you is immeasurable... He knows it's for the best. Statistically speaking, you're more likely to get hurt without him around to protect you. It's just unfortunate it had to go this route.
At the moment you were in a cage in the corner of his home office, shaking with anger and cold as he had stripped most of your clothes in punishment, your arms restrained behind your back and a blindfold to keep you more sensitive. He checks the time on the corner of his computer; it's only been 20 minutes.
Once you rejected him, he had seemed to take it in stride. It wasn't meant to be, sometimes you see a juicy fish just too late and miss it, he had to move on.
But he couldn't.
Your fiery attitude and boisterous laughter filled the calm void inside him. You are everything to him.
So one night, when he's walking down the street to clear his mind, he sees you getting off work late. When salmon travel upstream to go home, it's the bear's job to catch it. Or, something like that. With the way his mouth salivates and his body jitters in excitement, he can't help but compare you to a delicious meal, even if he doesn't want to devour you - in that sense.
Once you wake up, you fight, of course you do. He doesn't necessarily blame you for it, but, bad behaviour needs to be punished. It's when you tried to bite through his thick fur did he snap. Intentionally hurting someone is a no-go. Though, it is your first offence. Another ten or fifteen minutes and he'll let you out.
"I don't want to keep you trapped here forever. I'd like if we could go out together, too. We just need to be civil about this," he states, hoping to appeal to you with calm incitements.
Instead, you grit your chattering teeth and curse, "Fffff-uck yo-ou."
His shoulders sag, his frown deepening as he turns back to his monitor to continue working.
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Anton:
He and his bro had spent countless hours rehearsing and none of the answers to come out were negative. So, how is it that you say anything but a resounding YES?
"I dunno," you say, shyly rubbing your arm as you avert your eyes, "I just always thought I was one of the guys. Whenever you introduced us it was always 'Anton and his two bros'."
His jaw goes slack as his brain catches up. It takes a moment of cogs turning and mathematical calculations as every moment he's ever 'friend-zone'd you comes flashing in his mind. Then, he bursts out laughing, his large hand coming to land on your shoulder, "Dude, no way! Okay, I can see where you might think that." In a completely different display of affection, one you haven't exactly experienced from a man like Anton, he runs his hand down your arm and catches your own hand in his, collecting your other as well to intertwine his fingers and hold you close. He swallows the lump in his throat, as though saying it a second time is harder than the first, - though in his defense, he and his bro had concluded that you would say yes after the first confession, this wasn't in the script. "I really do like you, (Y/n). A lot. I'd do anything for you."
Anton truly is one of the sweetest people you know. However, "I'm sorry, Anton. I think our lifestyles are just too different to begin with. But hey! I'll always be your bro!"
It's getting awkward, and you have to tug a few times before he lets go. With a small farewell, you turn on your heel to leave and give you both some time to think. He will be okay, Anton always bounces back, no problem!
Except, he doesn't. In another turn of events for someone like him, he zeroes in on a nerve near the back of your neck and hits it hard. Immediately, you collapse into his arms, unconscious.
The drill on his hip shifts from the adjustment he has to make to carry you, causing him to look down before averting his gaze with a guilty conscience, "What? Don't look at me like that, they were getting away! Besides," the smile of his is unparalleled as he stares at your sleeping face, "We just need to show them their place with us; they'll come around."
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Seth:
He knows it's wrong, it's so wrong. The stalking. The lying. The manipulation. Saying something as, "Wow! What a coincidence, I didn't expect to see you here, (Y/n)." is enough to make his heart hurt with deceit. You deserve better, you deserve the word.
But you just won't listen.
You run down any empty alley to help someone who calls for help and have been scammed and attacked four times this month because of it. Yes, he knows he does it too, but, he has the skills to deal with it! It also means your money gets stolen easily and you're left with cup noodles every night for a week because you can't afford a proper meal. Not to mention your sleep schedule taking a toll because you refuse to close up shop if a customer is taking their time because you don't want to 'hurt their feelings'. Or what about that cat bite that struggled to heal because-
Seth takes a deep breath, calming his racing and distraught thoughts. His superior Zhu Yuan said it herself, "If someone I love kept putting themselves in danger, then I'd step in, no questions."
He's offered countless times to handle things, to get you to call him in any sort of emergency, and wishes so badly that you would accept his feelings rather than saying something stupid like you'd get in the way of his goals.
Why is he so scummy?
The sound of the lock to your shop is loud in the empty street. It's 11pm, you usually shut at 9 tonight. You're so tired and unconcerned that you don't even jump at his presence when you finally turn around. Your parted lips spread into a smile, tired eyes crinkling as you greet him, "Officer Seth! What a lovely surprise, are you out patrolling?" When you step forward, you notice that he's hunched in on himself, a prominent frown on his usually cheerful face, ears back and looking solemn. You come even closer, unaware of any possible signals he could be giving you to stay away, "Seth? Are you okay, what's happening?"
Instead of saying anything directly, he just walks forward until his body meets yours, collapsing into you for a hug. You let him melt in your embrace, hands coming up to rub his back gently and pet the soft tufts of his hair, murmuring how you're there for him. He has to stop his hand from shaking when he holds up the injection pen, calmly moving your hair away from your neck as though he was simply returning the favour of comfort. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into your skin, his own tired eyes closing to shut out the world, allowing it to be only him and you, "It'll only get worse if I do nothing, and it's already so bad now."
You don't have time to ask him what he means, the sudden pressure in your neck causing you to yelp. The sting comes after the shock, you try to pull away but he doesn't let you move, only continuing to squeeze you against him as your legs buckle and go numb. "Seth...?" You whisper his name, looking up with such a worried expression that he can't help but smile softly.
"No, dummy," he lifts you up when your arms go paralysed next, walking in the direction of his car, "You're supposed to scream for help when something happens."
Your lips wobble as you begin to cry, unsure of what your dear friend is planning by doing something like this. His car comes into view and you shift your head against his chest, voice weak, "Help."
"Shh," he hushes you, savouring your warmth in the quiet night, "It's too late for any of that now. You'll be safe with me."
For weeks he had been dealing with this dark, malicious substance oozing through his veins at the prospect of doing something so criminal. Now, though? Now, as he holds you and feels you and sees you in front of his, he feels like everything is suddenly right with the world. He must've been overthinking everything like usual.
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Lycaon:
You shouldn't be so surprised to see that Lycaon has such a nice apartment. His job isn't exactly middle class and he rarely spends money outside of his fur upkeep products.
Still, as you sit the wet umbrella in its plastic sheath - curtesy of the building staff - next to the door way, you can't help but look around in awe. There's no a lot going on, a large lounge that has enough space for at least ten people, accompanied by a larger tv that is currently off. An open kitchen, hallways to the left and right, an upstairs with a balcony over half the floor plan.
And a lovely table and chairs by the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the city of New Eridu, which was currently pouring with rain and being illuminated by lightning.
Lycaon was standing by the lovely table, placing down the teapot down after pouring two cups before turning to face you. In an unusual turn of events, he wasn't wearing his signature uniform which you have grown accustomed to seeing, instead, he was in a simple black, buttoned down shirt and long pants. He hadn't changed the patch and belts on his face, however, which he regards with a tender touch and explanation, "Apologies, I barely had time to change before you arrived. Even though I invited you over, it's unforgivable of me."
You purse you lips at him, walking towards the set-up and stating, "You said you had feelings for me and yet you still talk to me like I'm one of your clients."
The corners of his lips tick up in a dejected smile, "I suppose it's habitual at this point. Besides, I'm still a little unsure how to go about this."
He pulls out the chair for you to sit, your body resting in the comfortable cushion on the hard seat. It takes you a moment to realise that what you said probably wasn't the best call right now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that... I was just trying to lighten the mood."
This time, his smile is a little more sincere, "Please, do not worry about it. Our previous meetings have been a tad awkward so I understand."
This relaxes you greatly, your shoulders sagging in relief. You turn your attention to the hard rain hitting the windowsill next to you, the home is warm but you're close enough for the cool air on the window to still hit you, "It's really coming down, huh?"
"Indeed," he agrees, not that he could really argue against it. Lycaon takes your cup and opens a small sugar bowl, taking a spoonful and stirring until it all dissolves, "I believe the forecast stated that it would be storming all week."
"I hope the outer circles are okay, they tend to flood easily," you mindlessly pray, accepting the teacup once he's placed it back on the saucer. You both enjoy a silence of words as you sip from your respective beverages, the rain soothing your mind.
Lycaon's ears flicker every-so-often to the sound of thunder, an endearing attribute to witness. You wonder if days like these would be common if you had said yes. It would be nice, but, you know now just isn't the right time for something like that.
Lycaon considers differently.
He clears his throat after a while, once you both had enjoyed a substantial amount of tea, "I must admit, my reasons for inviting you over are not quite... honourable."
You finally look away from the drowning city lights and to your friend, "What do you mean?"
He sets his palms in his lap and takes a deep breath, exhaling from his mouth to steady any unease, "I'm afraid I won't be allowing you to leave here, (Y/n). I've contemplated back and forth about my actions and decided that this was the most favourable outcome."
Confusion hits you before any sort of fear or anxiety, "Huh? Are you going to kill me?"
When Lycaon stiffens at that, you can't help but feel like your joke wasn't exactly off the mark. It's only until he shakes his head, almost exasperated, that you finally remember to breathe, "Goodness, no! I would never entertain such a thing. I merely mean that unless supervised by myself, you won't be leaving the premises."
You roll your eyes and play along, "Okay, so, do I have to find a hint to unlock the door? Is this a new thing for your business-" everything suddenly blurs and you double over in exhaustion. What the heck? It takes a moment to recover but when you do, you stand abruptly from the table, both hands steadying you as your body is overcome with unease, "Actually... I don't wan'na to play anymore..."
One step turns to two, and perhaps you get another half in before you're knees are collapsing beneath you and Lycaon is holding you up. He's kneeling, carefully monitoring your condition to make sure you go down as simply as the drug entices. He's talking calmly, saying something to soothe the process, perhaps, but you'll never know beyond the jumbled noise being muffled by your own hearing.
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Lighter:
"You're not taking this seriously!" You shout at him, charging forward to get one good, hard punch to his cheek.
Lighter easily sidesteps you, grabbing a hold of your arm and twisting it backwards. You yelp in pain as he pins you down, finally doing something other than dodging your attacks, "Oh? Is that better or, do you want me to punish you more?"
His knee rubs suggestively between your thighs, your eyes tearing up in frustration as you thrash and kick. Mercifully, he retreats off of you and you you're quick to stand in another defensive position, "What is your problem?! If you're going to fight me than fight me properly!"
"I think you've forgotten that you're the one who issued this challenge," he pushes his sunglasses up his face nonchalantly, refusing to take them off despite the fact it's nighttime.
You growl and rush in to deliver a swift kick to his shin - which he artfully evades, "Only because you won't leave me alone! I'm fine by myself, I've always been fine by myself! I only ever started having troubles when you came into my life!"
He tuts and shakes his head, jumping back from another attack, "You know Big Daddy says it's not okay to tell porky pies. Little pigs like you who do get in big trouble for it."
That makes you falter, stepping back in bafflement and frankly a bit of discomfort, "What?"
Lighter is quick on his feet, stepping aside you, kicking out to trip up your ankle and catching you from behind. He spreads your legs with his own and holds your wrists behind your back, "If it weren't for me, nobody in the outer ring would look twice at you before robbing you blind and leaving your body dead in a ditch. Vulnerable city folk like you aren't exactly welcome here."
"Why go through all that trouble for someone like me, then?" You try to get out but this time, he isn't faltering, so you relinquish yourself for a moment of clarification, "If you guys hate me so much then why did you step in?"
"Because I like you. I really, fucking like you. And all I wanted was a bit of thanks and appreciation," he leans down to mumble in your ear, biting the lobe not all that gently. Again, you're pushed to the ground, his hips easily keeping you down without so much as breaking a sweat, "I win. Now, as per our agreement, this time you have to say, 'yes'."
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Harumasamasa:
You're hands are shaking so badly that you can't hold a cup of liquid without spilling it. Your head is swimming with nausea and you seeing double of everything. How long had he been doing this without you knowing? Was this why your back didn't seem to ache the same way anymore, or your knees or your shoulders?
The door to your cell opens and you're greeted with the man himself. It's amazing how easy it is for people with power to abuse the system. "So, how're you feeling, honey? Changed your mind yet?"
"Y-You're a monster," you spit, stuttering not because you're scared or cold, but because your teeth won't stop chattering from withdrawals.
Harumasa laughs, closing the cell behind him and crouching down so he's at the height of your quivering body on the bench, "Awh, I never claimed to be a good guy! But, I wouldn't go as far as say 'monster.' Still," he reaches out and gently tucks back some of your hair, "In this scenario, you might not be wrong."
You jut your head back, smacking the brick wall with the back of your skull, 'thud!', "Fuck off."
"Oof," he winces, eyes cringing, "That had'ta hurt. C'mon, baby, just say yes and I can make all this disappear."
You're swaying from lack of balance, gods you think you might throw up, "Can't you find someone else to force your love onto?"
He stands abruptly and the motion makes you fall back, only being supported by the construction that was now the cause in your skull, "Nope! I want you. I have since I started dosing you with these." He pulls out a baggie of colourful tablets, his medication for his rare affliction. Sighing wistfully, he cradles the rainbow meds against his cheek, "If it weren't for these bad boys than I wouldn't have been able to get you do addicted to me. No one else can help you now, honey. I'm all you've got."
"Someone will come," you wish under your breath, body falling forward while you clutch your stomach in pain, "Someone will notice."
Harumasa purses his lips at you, humming in thought. With a defeated moan, he pockets the medication and stretches his arms above his head, "Welp, let's see how strong your will is after another day in the cell." Striding to one corner of the room, he grabs the little, plastic rubbish bin and brings it between your legs, "Here, you're gonna need this. The next 24 hours will not be fun for you."
You only notice he's gone when the shutting door echoes through the room, too lost in trying to keep your withdrawing body from keeling over.
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threepandas · 6 months ago
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Bad End: Loyalties
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Did you know? That one of the unexpected benefits to being reborn, with your memories intact, is that you carry your first life's cultural taboos with you? All your knowledge, all your superstitions, every horror movie you've ever so much as glanced at. Like a dowry, brought with you, into this, your new life.
You end up not giving as much weight, to local superstitions. Especially the ones you know are not true. How? Well, sometimes? In the mad, random, overwhelming blur of the Cosmos? You end up in a Reality that to YOU? Was once fiction. Living in a snapshot of that world's history, as it plays out. Just as it was prophesied.
It's kinda disorienting. But? You get used to it.
Though you DO have to make a choice. Quickly. And decide where in that prophecy you want to stand. After all... there are many ways it could go. It WAS a "game". A story of romance. That other's lives would be impacted? That nations might rise or fall? That people could and will DIE? Oh, that is irrelevant! Isn't it?
They are young.
In LOVE.
Obviously, I could not risk my life on such irresponsible grounds. Plant my flag and swear loyalty, to such fickle hearts. I would die. They would get me killed, for their love story. No... No, what I needed? Was something stable. Selfish. Someone who would claim, but would KEEP.
I needed someone who rewarded loyalty. Someone who praised cleverness. Protected his own. Had (and would again) kill any who set untoward eyes upon those who served him. Someone guaranteed to survive until the end. Machiavellian, scheming. A soft and twisting word. Whispered kindly, in so many, many ears.
The power behind whichever throne he chooses.
Most Senior Royal Advisor, Iwamoto Nobutoshi. My boss. Or, really, Master I guess. Boss was for gangsters. Which was still weird for me. Part of me still twitched violently, every time I said the word "master". My brain insisting, it was either a sex thing or a slavery thing, and that I should respond with Immediate Violence at being told to call anyone that.
Yeah... there ARE downsides to keeping your memories. It really is a mixed bag, all told.
But, hey! All those horror movies I've seen in passing? Scary Horror-Terror Stuff I've absorbed through cultural osmosis? Has been really coming in handy, not gonna lie. So has my understanding of what constitutes "psychological warfare" and "mindfuck-y, liminal, torment".
It should NOT be as cathartic as it is? But... not gonna lie. I've gotten weirdly GOOD at this. Learned to become one with the shadows. Sneak into and out of places, I rightfully should not BE. Usually with a bucket of animal blood from a butcher's. Occasionally, if I KNOW they have someone who can test it? I get the bucket from the morgue.
Which? Is gross as FUCK. And disrespectful. But I have to believe they'd be totally down for fucking with some Evil Rich Assholes. Plus I donate funds to their family's anonymously. So I like to think it balances out? Still don't like to do it, though. I feel like the longer I've been here, the more my morals have chipped away...
Where was I? Right! Tonight's "art"!
I forget where that quote was from, exactly? But? It was true. People do not look up nearly enough. Worse yet, most manors around here? Had attics and weird pockets in their ceilings, with easy access to the floors below. I had? Gotten past? SO many patrols this way. So, SO many.
Frankly, an ALARMING number of patrols.
I'd taken to putting traps in the ceiling, back home.
What I was aiming for, here, was the private rooms. Not the hallway outside the private rooms, oh no, those would be patrolled to hell and back. But inside. Plus? It would have that added, spicy, "we can get you where you sleep" fear factor. And? Having their oh so TRUSTED, highly trained gaurds? See NOTHING? Perfect~
Cause? We? Were doing a good ol fashioned "Sins of The Past" Haunting!
The trick, if you don't actually have any good oppo-research available? Is to be vague, yet aim for things you do know about them. Let them fill in the blanks. Such as? The VERY convenient deaths of Lord Jackass's other brothers, which cleared HIS way towards power. There's no PROOF of any wrong doing... but~? Guilty hearts DO tend to tell on themselves~!
Slinking down the rope ladder silently, into the frankly hideously overdecorated room. I got to work. On silent feet, I began to set the stage. Furniture, lifted and silently stacked, around the snoring Lord and his equally unconscious wife. Expensive pottery, covered in a thick and padded bag, before it is struck.
As though some silent blast of power had gone off. Each piece, placed right back where it had been, now broken, on the floor. Next? The most time consuming, but subtle, one. Also the one that would spread farthest as gossip. Using a custom made seam ripper, tear out the eyes of every example of his family's crest on his clothes. On his bedding.
Yes, ALSO on the robe he wore to bed. That one takes very gentle movement. Very nerve-wracking, not gonna lie. You gotta go slow. Once you DO? Good ol "tears of blood." Just paint it right on the cloth, let it stain. As though the crests were weeping.
THEN, you paint the room in nicely vague horror movie script.
"Brother. Why?" "We know. We know EVERYTHING. How could you?" "We are tired of waiting, join us. Join us Brother." "We are witness, a shame upon our blood."
And other such gems! Plus the good ol hands scrambling, covered in blood, to a point in the center of the room. Put a round painters cloth down, and~? Gently sift ash and bone dust (I dried up bones from the kitchens, then ground um! Also great for gardening.) over the floor. Step UP, to my ladder, kit away, grab the cloth, and? Off we go!
Room successfully haunted.
Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole, really. Is it a BIT much? Yeah, probably. People lose their SHIT. I apparently have "a talent", according to my teammates. Which is nonsense. It's all B-grade horror move nonsense and house of horrors gross outs. Visceral ick. But it's NEW here, so I guess that counts? Even if I am plagiarizing the FUCK out of somebody.
Thankfully, though, dispite my "talent"? Master Iwa- ...No, wait, didn't he tell me recently to call him by his name? Uncomfy. A good sign, obviously, but... uncomfy. Don't Like that he knows who I am. I was aiming for, you know, mid rank? Not disposable but pretty forgetable? But now I have a Useful Skill. Have proven to be INTELLIGENT.
Fuck, I even made the mistake of cleaning up and organizing PAPERWORK. You know, paperwork? A thing you would have to READ and MAKE SENSE OFF, to be able to organize? Have to create some kind of workable and efficient system, by WHICH to sort? I thought it was an assistants! Not HIS!
One fuck up is all it takes.
He will find you, he WILL rip the secrets out of you, and yes! He WILL smile pleasantly the entire fucking time! It's horrifying! Kinda cool! I'm pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes! Ha ha... Holy SHIT.
Right, where...? Right! My "talent"! Master Nobutoshi? Big on "right piece for the right purpose". Yeah, you could FORCE people to go against their ideals, their beliefs, their very nature... but you can only do so, for so long. Fear fades. Pain can be overcome. Not everyone fears death.
He regards it as foolish, inefficient, to drag and force and scream.
No, no! He? Oh, he merely... suggests. A softly spoken recommendation. A guiding hand, to show you, the best use of your skills. And if that guidance just so happens to serve his interests? Well... what a wonderful coincidence~ How fortuitous.
Heavy hands get broken. Snapped at and slapped away. But a gentle touch? A little nudge? Sweet whispers in your ear? That tell you what you want to hear? Guide you where HE wants you to be? Well, THAT is so much harder to notice, isn't it. So, SO much harder to fight.
I chose pretty well, I like to think. Because no matter the game? He'll come out on top. Probably laugh, as all the other players, dance to his tune. Who WOULDN'T want to be on his team? His team wins.
And winning? Means I survive.
Dropping off my kit in the shed at the back of the Iwamoto guest residence gardens (where, should it be found, the presence of such things could be blamed on unscrupulous guests), I trudge back towards the servants quarters. I'm tired and filthy. It's the kind of late? Where it's flipped right around to become early.
Luckily, me and my teammates plan ahead, so there is a still moderately warm bath waiting for me. God bless Aiko and all she stands for. For this? I'll even carry her back to our room. Since, once again, she's decided "fuck it" and just curled up on the stack of towels. Doesn't even fit. She just shoved her upper body in the cubby and called it good.
I snort and step over her. Get my fuckin bath. Late night shifts are the worst. But we all take um. I focus on getting clean, grabbing my passed out lump of a roommate, and heading to bed. Fucker drools on me. Snorkels right in my ear. Takashi laughs silently as we pass him, hold the door for me. Seems to be heading out as we head in.
Master Iwamoto's shadow network never truely sleeps, after all.
Always someone doing something.
Dumping us both in our beds, I greatfully pass out. Do not dream. Greet near mid-day as my dawn, ready to start it all over again. Up, a quick bath, dressed and ready to go. Nothing to seem here but us identical servants. We go in shifts. All the better to be as disorienting as possible, to outsiders.
Everyone who looks like each other? Grouped on a shift. Taught to use make up to make themselves even MORE indistinguishable. We pick someone about in the middle, appearance wise, of each group, as the Standard. Everyone is to copy them. For my group, it's me.
I pick up the whispers and news, that have been collected since this mornings report. Second one of the day. At least, second one when we're not on "war" footing. As I walk, I glance down. Technically not supposed to read these, but I'm fairly sure he knows I do at least read the top page. Is amused by it. I'd have seen punishment otherwise. Or removed from delivery.
Oooh~ lookie THERE! How SCARY~☆! It appears someone was HAUNTED last night! By the ghosts of their dead brothers, you say? Angry ancestors, you say? Wife hysterical? Fled to her parents house? Sister, in tears, before the king? Oh my, oh my~!
I struggle not to grin. That would give the game away. Me? Reading something I'm not supposed too? I would NEVER. He he he~
Casually weaving through other servants, I keep reading. Climbing stairs and ducking down halls. Huh. Wait a second... slowing, I step to the side of the covered walkway. Re-read that last paragraph. Near the end of the page? Is something... strange. Not right.
I REMEMBER the Plot.
Made SURE I would remember. Wrote it down, then again and again. Memorized it, like my life literally depended on it, while it was still somewhat fresh in my mind. Because, frankly, it DID depend on it. Even now? Decades later? I can recite it by rote.
So why? Pray tell? Did our blushing Protagonist? Have a BROTHER.
Furthermore, why the FUCK have I not NOTICED this before?
Glancing around, I see far too many watchful eyes, to properly investigate. So I straighten. Pleasant, vague, expression in place. I walk forward. In no hurry at all. Definitely going to deliver these papers. Certainly not delaying in the slightest. Nothing to see here, everyone! Go about, what you were. We are all friends here, RIGHT?
I step into the building at the far end of the covered pathway. Resist diving into the first room available. That? Would be too predictable. I go for the THIRD. One quick grab, slide, and side-step? And~? Poof! Like I was never there. Servant? WHAT servant? These halls are EMPTY. You're clearly seeing things... are you okay?
Immediately, I lift the reports. Well, immediate after a look around the room, of course. Don't want to get CAUGHT. Flipping to the second page, I start reading. What's this about a Brother? What BROTHER?! There IS no BROTHER!
....except there IS.
Somehow.
And HE? Is a very, VERY clever man. One who lived quietly. Like a ghost. After the failed assassination attempt that nearly killed him and his mother. Wait a- ...failed? That sounds...? Familiar.
I have to close my eyes and think, to remember. Lean my head back and let my brain churn. It's... obscure. A tiny detail, mentioned offhand. Single line of dialog, in only one of the routes. Not even the MAIN routes. But one of the Secret ones, that you have to unlock... in the... collectors? Edition? I think? There was that play through video, right? We were eating... a noodle dish of some kind...
Fuck, I can't remember it. Not fully.
But I remember ENOUGH.
I REMEMBER? That it WASN'T a FAILED attempt. That Protagonist-chan's family didn't talk about them. For vaguely plot relevant reason. There was healing and good vibes. Follow your dreams, kids. Buy now. Etc etc...
He... survived? How? Damn it. Doesn't say. But... shit. He's cause a LOT of trouble, isn't he? And it looks like he's kind... railroading his sister into a specific route. That, or keeping her from emotionally cheating on her fiancée. Can't tell. Haven't met her. Looks like he's also patented a few... is that a fucking WHISK? Holy shit. These are all early industrial revolution!
Looking up from the reports, I stare blankly into space. Is... is the Protagonist's brother... ALSO a Reincarnator? What do I do with that? Do I contact him? Say "hello"? "I'm here too"? I thought I was... was completely alone in this world. But of all the places he could BE. Smack dap RIGHT in the middle of all the action?! Holy SHIT.
I'm going to have to think about this. A LOT.
Correcting the reports, I step back into the hallways. Casual as you please. Continue on my way, even as my mind churns and churns. Why is he gathering allies? Why hide for so long? Is he counting on his sister's plot armor to carry over? Or does he have actual military training? He's amassing loyalists. For WHAT?
And the reports said he's searching for something. Seem to suggest that WE are keeping it AWAY from him. What are we hiding? Protecting?
People? Resources? A mine?
I reached Master Nobutoshi's study, in his private wing. The halls quite, as only the most elite and trusted servants were allowed to travel here. Kneeling, I knocked on the door frame, waited to be acknowledged.
Receiving an almost absent-minded acknowledgement, I slide open the door.
Framed by delicately painted screen and thickly stuffed book shelves, Iwamoto Nobutoshi was, as always, the very picture of an elite scholar. Beautiful and refined. Slow and deliberate in movements, as though each had been pondered and found acceptable. I had never met a man more graceful. Not in this life, not in the last.
To my right, the sliding door to the gardens were open. Giving a picturesque view of summer, as it faded into fall. To the left, painted screens. Done by some Master's hand. With a splendid level of detail that still caught me off gaurd, even now. There were birds, in those painted trees! Had there always been? I wished I could look closer.
Nonetheless, I respectfully offered the reports for perusal.
"Right on time. This One had begun to worry." He said as he set aside his brush, smile mild as ever, even as his eyes swiftly cataloged each new discrepancy. There were several. "Bruises. Did the new padding in your suit, not sufficiently protect? This One will be most displeased if we have been lied too. We were promised it would."
No, and that was the thing, wasn't it? My kit? Had never been better. But... I had been damn near ambushed on my way TOO my job. Had to take evasive maneuvers. Do a LOT more parkour then I was comfortable with. Those fuckers had been... persistent. Weirdly so. Which made no sense, since they didn't seem affiliated with anyone I recognized.
"Oh?" The question was less a question and more a flat note of outrage. He held a hand out for the reports, began to read. "How... interesting. They certainly seem to be getting bold. This One begins to wonder. If he has perhaps been too kind, that they would see fit to harrass his-"
An ominous silence fills the room as he cuts off mid-sentence, as his eyes find something on the page he's reading. He has gone utterly still. The gentle curl of smoke from his pipe, wafting around him like the warning trails of a dragon. The deadly hidden embers of a forest fire, flaring up. His pleasant smile had frozen upon his face. Like a mask.
"He certainly does love to push his luck, does he? Make demands, for things he has no right too. Things which are ours." The words weren't even so much addressed to me? As the were a hissed accusation, towards the report in his hand. Someone, somewhere, seemed REALLY dead set on pissing Master Nobutoshi off.
Honestly? That seemed really unwise, but it's their funeral... I guess...?
Master Nobutoshi turns so suddenly I only barely avoid flinching. Jumping like a newbie. He's doing that "pick you apart at the seems" stare again. Looking into my soul. I remain politely deferential, patient, as I wait for him to work through his thoughts. He rises from his desk. Elegant and prowling, as he stalks towards me. Gaze intense, fixated. I... I am missing something.
"Tell me, my loyal little shadow. What would you do? If some... upstart, dared begin to covet, that which was yours? Started panting after your dearly beloved trusted, like a filthy dog? Trying to steal them away? Would you take that? Tolerate such disrespect? I... This One... can not imagine you would."
"You are so very loyal. So diligent. You serve me not for fame or glory, power nor wealth. You ask for so little, offer so much. I would give the world to you. My precious, loyal, little shadow. Forever by my side. No doubt, we shall grow old together. That they would covet you? The audacity is unthinkable."
Soft yet warrior calloused hands, come up to cup my cheeks. And... ah. Yeah. T-That's pretty fucking CLEAR on what I'm missing. My boss? Has a thing for me? Crush? Or... or is it "is in love with"? W-what was that about people coveting?! Hold on! Roll things back a second! What's happening?! I never thought I was blind... about apparently I need a stick and some GLASSES.
Because there is "missed some subtext" and then there's "dude, how do you miss the silent war with guerrilla tactics, right fucking IN FRONT OF YOU?!", so like? Either I was being DELIBERATELY kept seperate? Or... actually? No. That actually sound exactly like what probably happened. An information diet.
FUCK.
Before I could decide how, exactly, I felt about that? The same door I had entered through, opened again. This time sharply and with an audible snap. Dragging urgently along it's tracks and hitting its end, in a way the delicate crafting had never been meant for. I swear it nearly cracked. Alarmed, I spun, breaking free of Master Nobutoshi's hold on my face, to face whoever was at the door.
Aiko.
Shouldn't she be near the front gates? "Sweeping" and listening to gossip for the Shadows? How. Why!? My eyes catch on slowly spreading red. Stark against her... our uniform, she's hurt. Badly. Gripping her side and the door frame like it's the only thing still holding her up. Her face ashy pale and sweating with terrible pain. Eyes determined. Her jaw set in that stubborn, stubborn grit.
"Master. You need to leave. Now! They...!" She wavers, starting to blackout from the pain, before forcing it back. "They've attacked! We're holding them back. A-As best as we c..can! Please! Lord Iwamoto, I BEG you! You must go! If you don't survive this, then everything is lost!"
As if to underline the terrible wait of her words, an explosion goes off, shaking the austere foundations of the ancient house in which I serve. My mind immediately flits and races along the emergency protocols. W-was that one of ours? Did we..? No. No, we would have... DID set up barricades. This is our house. We've already trapped it.
They are the ones who brought explosives.
You don't bring things like those, if you plan to leave survivors. You bring those? When you plan to make EXAMPLES. Aiko is right. We have to go. Now. Heart hurting, I nod to my roommate, one of my best friends, and know that this is it. I will likely never see her again, alive. There are... so many goodbyes, words, I wish I had time to say.
In the look she shoots me? I see the same.
We knew this might come.
Just... just hoped it never would.
My boss's crush can wait. His LIFE is more important. I turn and reach for him, to guide him towards the screens, leading deeper into his wing. Get to him easily. But do not get more then two steps before an arm, like steel, is suddenly around my waist and jerking me back.
Jerking US back. Towards the wall of scrolls and decorative pieces, that sat behind Master Nobutoshi's desk. Startled, my gaze shoots down to see Master Nobutoshi's arm, unhesitating and possessive, wrapped around my waist. There is... a lot more muscle under those flowing robes, then I ever suspected. But-?
I do not even have time to think, to ponder, the question before it is violently answered. The masterfully painted screens, that I had long admired, smashing and tearing as bodies crash through them.
Takashi, dead on the floor, sword still in hand. Around him, his teammates dying, as they still tried to by their Lord even a few moments more, to escape. The large, ever polite Shadow, a man who had been like a brother to me... dumped upon the ground like little more then trash. To be tossed aside and discarded. Stepped over, on some other man's campaign.
His blood mixed with the ruins of the Hunting Tiger screen. Two proud, quietly noble wonders, destroyed. It had been his favorite.
Aiko howled with rage and grief. Threw herself into the fight.
We had been family.
I turned, away, hating myself for it. Knowing it's what they would want. Tears threatened but I could not let them come. Not... not yet. Not yet. There was an emergency exit. Where? Where!? I remembered it. I knew, I knew it! But the grief was muddling my mind, making it slow. Damn it. DAMN IT! WHERE WAS IT!!!??
Master Nobutoshi reached past me. Gripping the hilt of decorative sword, he lifted and drew. It.. it was not decorative. Merely disguised. A masterwork blade. It sang ominously as it cut through the air, entering the scene. Then... a face, breathe, pressed to the side of my head. Like.. like a lover? A terrible discordance, in this already awful event.
"Behind the Three Mountains and a Shrine, My Love. I will be with you shortly."
I froze. The world froze, for all it continued, around me. Distantly... I felt Master Nobutoshi loosen his grip, after... after one last possessive squeeze. Let go. Felt him turn away, as he faced the room. But... but that was... he.... he had....
W-was that? I-Informal? A..And WHAT did he call m-!?
My hand, shaking, found the right scroll. Somehow. Without my numb, panicking mind, they moved dispite me. Somehow determined to keep me alive, dispite my shock. I flicked the right switch. Disarmed the traps in the order they needed to be. And... click. There was the trap door. Our... our way out...
I stared. Blankly. W.. what was I supposed to..? Do?
Was I finally... in shock? That's... probably not good. Bad, actually. I should... should move. There are swords here. It's...? Dangerous? Yes. Dangerous. Bad. I need too... too think. Cry, maybe. Somewhere... not loud. With... with no... no swords.
Stumbling. Stiffly. Like my body was not my own anymore, I knelt. Hands clumsy and far away, I struggled with the trap door. Finally got it. People were... were fighting. Hurting. I... I didn't want to be here anymore. Didn't want to be ANYWHERE anymore. I... I wanted it to stop.
Why? Why wouldn't they all just... just STOP.
Aiko. Takashi. My teammates. Who else? Who else was hurt? G-gone? I was... was supposed to be SAFE. This was supposed to be SAFE. I worked so hard. Compromised and compromised, pushed myself down, and made myself fit. I worked and worked and WORKED, until I had nothing LEFT, b... because this was supposed to be SAFE!!!
I... I was supposed to b-be...!
"Iwamoto!" A voice roared above the chaos and fighting. "Where is She?! I know you're keeping her somewhere!"
Like a lions roar, some primal part of my brain demanded I pay attention. Now. Dragging, with brutal claws, my fragile mind, from its drifting cloud of numbness. One leg already on the steps to the escape tunnel, I turned, and... with horror? Realized I was to blame. For... for ALL of this.
Because? There, in armor, stood the Protagonist's brother. Surrounded by his men, with his sister safely at home, what other SHE could he POSSIBLY mean? If not the one? That ALSO remembers? H...He killed Aiko. Takashi. For THIS?
Monster.
Oh god, he.. he was a MONSTER.
Master Nobutoshi and the Reincarnator squared off. Swords drawn, men at their back. Already, so many were dead. So many I had known. Had worked with. My friends. Just... just pawns, between two powerful men. Dizzy, I realized, they... they hadn't even glanced at them. Didn't even seem to SEE them. Just... just more fodder. For their grand campaigns.
"You know?" Nobutoshi all but purred, as he clashed blades with his opponent. "I really must thank you. You helped me realize, the true worth of the gem I possessed. And, once you're dealt with? I will no longer need to hide her in obscurity. With you dead, little rat, I can finally have her, in every way that matters."
"She'll be a beautiful bride." His grin was a savage thing, full of baring teeth.
The Protagonist's brother raged. A lion, a mountain, and a warlord. Fury twisting what were, no doubt, handsome features into something horrifying. Blade work swift and brutal. How many of my friend's blood? Still painted that blade? Still stained his armor? He dressed himself like he thought he was the hero. He was destroying the only home I had known, for these past decades.
"Pervert! You disgusting CREEP! You think you can just imprison women until they love you?! I always knew there was something wrong with you, but this? This take the cake, you FREAK! I'm getting her out of here! Stopping your schemes! Once and for all!" The Brother roared, something unhinged in his eyes. A lifetime of isolation at last, too much, now that relief might finally be at hand. "You'll never understand her! You CAN'T understand her! Not like me! She was MADE FOR ME! We're supposed to be in this TOGETHER! And I WON'T let you keep me from her ANY LONGER, YOU FREAK!"
They couldn't see anyone but each other, as they fought. Brutal. Savage. Singing blades and madness. Around the room, the two sides clashed. Died. Pointlessly, at the command of their Lords. Sitting at the entrance to the escape route, I could see Aiko from here. Takashi. Both dead, gone, where just this morning we had been joking over our plans for an upcoming festival. We... we were going to hit up the candy booths first. Double back to store our loot. Then enjoy the festivities.
It was a good plan. I was going to pretend... that... that I didn't notice Aiko, stealing all the sour plum candies. I hated them. She loved them. But would never take them if I offered. O.. only fun if she could sneak um. Takashi would save me my favorites. Wasn't much of a sweets guy.
Gone...
All gone.
And for what? Because I "belonged" to the Brother? Because Master Nobu-...no. Because Iwamoto Nobutoshi, picked a FIGHT? All I wanted was to be safe. Live quietly. No plot. No drama. No chaos. Just... just market days and laundry, sweeping and helping make dumplings. Weeding the gardens. Napping with kids and cats. Slowness and the shifting of seasons.
A life, unremarkable.
I looked down into the escape tunnel. Dark, long, and to somewhere unknown.
They did not notice me leave.
187 notes · View notes
ronibartender · 16 days ago
Text
Out of my control
Summary:
LoA moves to the Day Court after Beron’s death and her and Helion have a baby; Lucien gets a little sister. Lucien meets Y/N when his sister is about 3 yo and he starts courting the her. It quickly becomes clear that the little female does not like Y/N making her gets more and more discouraged, knowing relationships tend not to work if a family doesn’t like the partner. Lucien always brushes it off and tosses it up to his sister being territorial over the brother who used to spend every second he could spare with her but now needs to teach her to share him.
Disclaimer: I give no rights for my work to be replicated, adapted, translated or used for any means. If you have questions please feel free to message me.
A special thanks to @mirandasidefics for beta reading and inspiring me to finally post. Go read her fics on her page, they are amazing!
Lucien POV
“Centuries ago there was a male and a female who fell in love”
“Ewwww!” She giggles.
“Shhhh. This is the story of a female, a spitfire who was carefree and creative and who fell in love with the sun.”
“The sun?”
“The sun. The sun used to sneak into the female’s family estate when all were away and he’d dance with her. He taught her the dances of all the places he had been to and she taught him about the animals that lived near her estate. Her favorite were the birds, she’d take him to the balcony of her estate and they’d feed the birds, sometimes they’d even fly into her hands.”
“They can do that?” Her small voice is full of wonder.
“Yes, but it takes patience. But the sun and the spitfire female had to keep their love a secret.”
“Why?”
“Because the spitfire was betrothed.”
“Beth- betrou- bu- bu- what?”
“Betrothed, she was engaged,” she gasps at that. “But she didn’t want to be. The spitfire’s father had basically sold her to the most powerful male in the land; a king.”
“She didn’t want to be a queen?”
“Maybe she did… but she knew that true love was more important than any crown.”
“Awww” she coos.
“The day for her to wed came and her betrothed- I mean, her new husband, found out about the sun, about how much she loved the sun and how much the sun loved her back. He threatened to-”
“Thhhhh- thhh- teten?”
“Threatened. He promised to do something really bad if she didn’t stop seeing the sun,” she gasps again.
“What did he promise?”
I shrug, “no one knows. But it was scary enough that the spitfire, sad and crying, told the sun they could no longer see one another. And the sun, fearing for her, agreed. And so the sun was gone. And the spitfire’s life became cloudy and colorless. Slowly, her fire didn’t burn as bright. The days dragged on and on and on… she gave that king six sons. One stronger than the last. Taller. Bigger. But… also dumber.” She giggles. “Then a war broke out and all the surrounding kingdoms got together to fight the bad male trying to take away their freedom. Their lives, their cultures and traditions were all at risk… and the sun was there to help them fight, but the spitfire could only watch from a distance. Until one morning, one of the evil males from the bad side of the war, found her taking a walk in the forest. The spitfire, having gone centuries without her training, fled. The male chased her to a cliff and she knew she wasn’t going to make it. No weapons, her powers, out of practice and dull over the years…”
“Oh no…”
“But then, with a burst of blinding light, the sun appeared in front of her again. He drew no weapon but in seconds the bad male was no more. He turned to the spitfire, who watched him in awe and in thanks, who was crying at their mare proximity, and he held her. And they danced again. They danced like they used to. Like no time had passed at all and for a few days, though they met in secret, her world had color again. The fire in her soul burned so violently she couldn’t sit still. But all good things must end, as the bad ones do. And the king found out they’d been dancing,” she gasps yet again. “He promised more bad things… and the sun had to go away again. Months later the spitfire gave birth to another son. He looked much like the others but he was smaller. More delicate. As he grew, he didn’t want to fight, though he learned to defend himself, but he was drawn to the library, he loved to read. So as his brothers were sent to rule parts of their father’s kingdom, the youngest would read, and learn. But he was always treated poorly by his brothers and his father, and he never knew why. They did terrible things to him, took away things that made him happy, took his friends and his books and everything he held dear…” My voice cracks. “So he ran away and went to live with a friend. He made a life for himself, traveling and seeing new places, making new friends. And things were fine… until they weren’t. A mad queen captured all the kings and queens of the neighboring lands and cast a curse on the youngest son, his friend and their kingdoms. They were cursed for 50 years!”
“15 years?!”
I chuckle, “50, 5-0. But a human came and saved them. She beat all the odds and the youngest son was free… for a while. Many bad things kept happening to him but he got through it all and he found his mate!”
“His mate?”
“Yes. They are very rare, but mates are the Mother’s gifts to the fae. They hold the other half of our souls and some say one is never complete until they find their mate. But his mate did not want him. She was hurt and angry at the world and she did not look at him twice. He was hurt, rejected by the one person who was supposed to love him no matter what. But he made it through, little by little, getting stronger with each challenge he faced and conquered. He moved around different kingdoms, fought in a big war and soon he found himself not quite fitting into the places he once did. So he found a new home, with two new friends; a firebird and a misunderstood warrior. Until one day a little bird came to him and told him the story of the spitfire and the sun. And that’s when he knew; he was no prince. The evil king who raised him was not his father… but the sun? The sun was. And the youngest son was light itself.”
“Wow…”
“Yes… it was not easy. The sun didn’t know his love for the spitfire had such an effect. But when he found out the sun shone brighter than he ever had. Taking his offspring, although a grown male, into his kingdom and teaching him things he didn’t even know he was capable of, powers he didn’t know he had. But the young male’s trouble wasn’t over; his mate rejected their bond and he almost died because of it. His parents and his two friends were the ones to keep him alive and helped him. And then the evil king who had raised the male passed away; the spitfire was free too. And she found refuge in the sun’s kingdom. And they danced again, and laughed again and fed the birds again.”
“And they lived happily ever after?” She asks.
“Not yet. Not a decade later, the spitfire was pregnant again, this time with a morning star, Venus.”
“That’s my name!” She claps.
“That’s right. And the lonely boy who finally had the family he always wanted, got a little sister!” She giggles as I blow raspberries on her belly. “Now, go to bed before mom finds out you’re awake.”
“Noooo!” She whines, “I wanna hear it again! I wanna hear it again!” I put her in bed, catching her by the ankle as she tries to crawl away and putting the covers over her.
“You just heard it!” I smile.
“But I want it again!” I kiss her head.
“Tomorrow night,” I exit her room, turning off the lights, the spinning night light casting little suns around her room. I walk to my office, the one Heli- dad gave me a while after I got settled here and started “High Lord training” as he likes to call it. I finish some paperwork before retiring to my chambers, bathing and sleeping.
The next morning, after breakfast I head over to the library. This one is smaller than most of the grand libraries of the Day Court. This is where most of our ancient texts are stored and I’m running an errand for Helion…dad. I walk in and can’t help but notice how it looks so different from most libraries. There are some shelves, yes but the books are covered and bound, protected. There are chests, no doubt filled with parchment and rolls of ancient text. I walk in, looking at the list of texts I’m supposed to retrieve and start searching for the specific books and scrolls he requested so we can go over them this afternoon but many of the covers and titles are covered to keep them protected. I reach for one and…
“Do not touch the books!” A female voice reprimands and I look around to find the source. A female stands, with a stack of books in her arms, at the end of this book shelf. She peaks over her stack of books, “please wait by the front desk and I’ll be with you in a moment,” she walks off and by the time I reach the spot she stood in, looking both ways, she’s gone.
I wait by the “front desk” which consists of a small desk and an uncomfortable looking bench with a few fae lights floating around. Ten minutes go by before the female speed walks behind her desk, “sorry for the wait, how can I help you?”
“I’m looking for these,” I hand her the list. Her eyebrows scrunch in concentration as she reads through and her lips twitch and purse.
“Some of these are very ancient texts…” she asks, definitely searching for something as she looks in my eyes. Pausing on the left side of my face and I see it; the fight between wanting to look over my scar and being polite and keeping eye contact with my natural eye.
“Yeah… I know…”
“Alright, it’ll take me a while to get these from storage. If you want to you can come back in about an hour-”
“It’s alright. I’ll wait.” I nod to her and give her a tight lipped smile. She bites her lip and sets my list down on her desk.
“These texts aren’t just something you can check out like a library book. I’ll need to call my superior to get clearance to let them leave this library. And even if I do, it’ll only be for a day or two.”
I blink. “Clearance?”
She nods. “Yes.”
This is awkward, I don’t want to tell her Helion is my father, it’d sound like I’m throwing my title around, “alright. I’ll… be back in an hour then?” She nods and I go to a café nearby to wait.
When I return she has everything ready for me on a small cart. She’s at her desk writing and I clear my throat as I approach. She jumps, “oh! I- I’m sorry,” she scrambles up, looking into my eyes for only a second before casting them down and going to the cart behind her. “Here. It’s all there, bring them back whenever you can and just…” she wrings her hands, “be gentle, please.”
Her demeanor has completely changed from just an hour ago and I have a good idea why. “Thank you. I’ll have them back as soon as I can.”
She nods but her eyes dart from her shoes to the cart to my shoes and then back to hers again. “Take your time,” she mumbles. I don’t know what else to say so I take the cart and roll it until it’s outside the wards protecting the library and winnow to Day Court Palace. This is the part of being a High Lord that Tamlin always hated; how people changed completely once they realized who stood before them. Either shaking with fear or bowing with respect. It’s lonely. And I feel it more everyday, yes I have Venous and my mother and a father who cares and loves me but I crave friends to go out drinking with, to flirt with females, to go hunting or fishing or do anything at all for pleasure and to share it with someone, a friend or otherwise. With a sigh I enter my father’s office, rolling the cart with all the texts he requested on them.
“That took you a while,” he lifts a brow, not in anger but in curiosity.
“Yeah,” I start to take things off the cart and place them on the large, round table in the middle of his office. “The librarian said she needed to get clearance and then it would take a while for her to get everything together.”
“Clarence?” He sounds surprised.
I chuckle, “that’s what I said.”
“And I’m guessing you didn’t tell her who you were,” it’s not a question.
I sigh, “no. It feels like bragging… it was never like this in Autumn. They knew me but I was no one, here they-”
“Respect you?” He smirks.
I chuckle, “something like that.”
“Maybe if you were honest but humble they’d warm to you on a personal level, hiding who you are to those who don’t know won’t do you any good. Venus is your only friend and though I love my little morning star, that’s sad.”
As if saying her name summoned her, she busts through the office door, surely running away from her governess again, her crimson curls loose from what looks to be the remnants of a braid.
“Papa! Papa!” She runs in and hides behind his legs as her governess comes in after her, out of breath and apologizing. Helion assures her that it’s alright and he’ll look after his daughter for a while. Venus reaches for one of the books I just placed on the table and I pick her up and bring her away from it. I get one of the other, replaceable, books from a shelf and hand it to her. She opens it to a random page before pretending to read, making up her own story.
(Three Days Later)
I roll the cart into the library and the female is nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” Silence. Eerie silence. I leave the cart near her table and start walking through the stacks. When I’m about to give up I spot the female in the very back balancing on the stool that’s supposed to be behind her desk, reaching for something on the top shelf, her tongue peaks out in concentration. As her fingers brush the object and the stool wobbles. “You want help?” Her head turns so fast I’m sure the stool will tip over but she holds onto the shelf in front of her. She looks like she’s about to give me a scolding until her eyes widen as she meets mine and realization dawns on her face. She turns away and starts to get down.
“No, no. It’s alright the ladder was old and it broke a little while ago. It’s not important, just a little extra organizing.” She bites her lip, facing me, back straight, chin high but eyes avoidant. “Do… you need something… sir- Lord?”
“Lucien.”
“Lord Lucien. Do you need anything?”
I chuckle and walk past her to where the stool is. “Just Lucien is fine. And no, I don’t need anything, I just came to drop off the things I came for a few days ago.” I put my knee on the stool for leverage and push myself up, easily grabbing what she needed from the top shelf.
“Thank you… Lucien,” she bows her head slightly and still won’t look me in the eye as she reaches for the box in my hand. I move it out of her reach, and pick up the stool before she can reach for that too. “I’ve got it,” I start walking back To her desk and she follows, eyeing me and the box like she’s expecting me to drop it. I pretend to and she gasps, desperately taking hold of the box and carrying it the rest of the way, setting it gently on her desk.
“You know… I won’t bite if you look at me.”
“Cause if you did, you’d want seconds,” the smirk comes and goes from her face, replaced by mortification as she scrambles for an apology. “I- I- I don’t know where that came from. I’m sorry, it was a reflex, I’m a bit of a jokester at heart, really I mean no offense.” I put both my hands on the table, leaning on it and chuckle at her flushed cheeks, she once again looks down at her table. It’s not a meek gesture, it’s not out of fear but out of respect, for my title, my station… but it is respect, regardless of what it stems from.
I can feel a smirk growing on my face as I concoct my response, “maybe I would,” she whips her head towards me. A hard expression taking over her features, her chin raised just a centimeter higher than humble. She looks me in the eyes for a second. Two. Three. Eyes flickering between russet and gold until her expression softens, her chin lowers and she goes back to looking at her table.
“Thank you for bringing them back. I’m sure you took great care of them…” she gestures to the cart I brought in, looking like she’s about to say more but doesn’t.
Maybe if you were honest but humble they’d warm to you on a personal level…
My father’s words bounce around in my head and I smirk, feeling remnants of my old, rakish self resurfacing for just a moment. She is a beautiful female as far as I can tell, her dress is modest and the library is dark but I'd take a chance, taking her into the sunny streets of the village nearby to see how she looks in that light. “What time do you get out of here? Maybe you can show me a few good places around here.” As if my father hadn’t shown me every nook and cranny of this court.
She blinks, “I don’t think you’d like the village at the time I get off.”
“Why not?”
“Not many fancy restaurants open at 3 am,” I gape slightly.
“3 am?!” She just nods.
“The other girl comes at 2:30 am and stays until 2:30 pm when I come back.”
“12 hour shifts?” She nods, “why so many hours?”
“These are the most ancient texts in the Day Court. This building is protected with every protection spell known to this Court’s High Lord. But they always want someone to look over the books and the artifacts and make sure they’re being taken care of.”
“So what? You don’t have a life?”
She scowls, “I have a life.”
I smirk, enjoying getting under her skin, “oh yeah? What do you do?” I challenge.
“I cook, and I eat, and I read and sleep, and … I…”
“Do everything that has absolutely nothing to do with having a life?” Another scowl. “When’s your day off?”
“Don’t have one,” she takes her stool and pulls it behind her table, sitting.
“Holidays?”
“I work through them.”
“What?!”
“The female who alternates with me has kids. I work holidays so she can be with them.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Mmmm… three years soon. When I first came to the Day Court. They needed someone to fill this position and I was new enough to the Court that I took anything I could get.”
I chuckle, “no wonder you didn’t know who I was, you’ve been living under a rock.”
“Maybe I like my rock,” her eyes narrow again.
“This is the Day Court. When was the last time you went out on a sunny day?”
“I have my lunch outside everyday. We aren’t allowed to eat in here. And I walk to and from work so I see plenty.” There’s no way. She has no idea what she’s missing. Some twisted part of me wants to take this innocent, good little thing and show her every bit of this court, shake up her world and burst this small bubble she’s been living in. To find out what makes her tick…
“I’m picking you up tonight. 3 am sharp.”
“Have you thought that I might have plans?”
“Do you have plans?” I smirk, knowing the answer.
“No, but I could have… had… plans.”
“3 am”
“I’ll be tired.”
“It won’t take long.”
“I’ll be stinky, this place smells of the dead.”
“I’ve stayed here this long, right? Plus, we’ll be outside, I’m sure your stench will be much more tolerable,” I smile and wink. Her hand goes to a mug holding pencils and old ink pens. I’m pretty sure that if we weren’t in such a delicate place and I wasn’t who she knows I am, she’d have thrown it at my head. I smirk and walk out, “see you later!”
I can’t believe I just did that. I haven’t even flirted with a female since the bond snapped with Elain! A weird feeling settles in my chest at the memory of such pain when she outright rejected the bond. I was sure I’d die, and she didn't care, didn’t even seem to feel a fraction of the chest crushing pain I did. I shake the thought away before I chicken out of tonight.
Reader POV
When Marianne walks in I’m ready to bolt out the door, grabbing my bag, hauling it over my shoulder and practically running out the door, hoping to avoid the Day Court heir. Maybe he was right, I have been living under a rock. Maybe I should’ve known who he was. Maybe I should be doing a lot of things. I have a calm, stable job that allows me to work on my own little projects and read my books while on the clock as long as I do everything I need to do for that day. And life is good. I don’t need to get involved with the royalty of this court, especially not for a handsome face. As I’m about to round the building and take the trail to my apartment a body comes into view. “Running away from me, pretty?” He twists a red rose between his fingers.
I roll my eyes, “no. Just a long day.”
“Great. Here,” he hands me the rose with the most feral smirk I’ve ever seen, “to mask your stench.” I bite my tongue to keep my own little come back from making an appearance. Reminding myself that he is Lucien SpellCleaver. He is the High Lord’s son. He is untouchable. “Come,” he speaks softly and extends his elbow for me. I take it, somewhat reluctantly. I take in his clothes; they aren’t usual for the Day Court. People here love wearing loose fitting clothing and as little of it as possible… he wears tight white pants, gold plated boots that raise to his thighs and a loose, cream tunic.
We walk and talk and walk and talk and walk some more. He carries the conversation, quickly catching on that I am not open to sharing. But he is. He tells me about his mother, his father and his sister. He tells me how she’s his world and how she treats him like he hung the moon, the sun and all the stars in the sky. Slowly but surely a smile appears on my face as he talks. Retelling stories of his sister’s shenanigans and how she likes to imitate him. How she is reluctant to go to her lectures and take baths and go to sleep, all because she wants her big brother.
Soon the sound of music fills my ears and I look around, seeing lights ahead. “We’re here,” he says. Earning a grumble from me about how it was about time. We walk closer and see fireflies illuminating the grassy field around a large fire. People are dancing and eating and laughing. Like a little local festival. I smile as kids run around us. “I love this part of the village. They’re not the most well off but the community is so warm and welcoming. They celebrate everything, sometimes nothing at all. I thought someone like you might appreciate it.”
“Someone like me?” I lift a brow.
“You spend your days surrounded by ancient texts that talk about our history. You really want me to believe you’ve never read any of it? It’s an aquired taste… but you learn to find joy in the simple things.”
“So I’m simple?” I say, unimpressed. His eyes narrow, the russet one darkening a shade.
“Stop being a brat and enjoy yourself.” His mechanical eye whirs and the russet one has a fire in it, only for a moment. The demand makes my cheeks heat, a heat that travels down to my core and I clench, hoping to keep the scent from reaching his keen, fae sense of smell. He walks us over to a food stand and they hand us some sort of wrap. I take a bite and moan at the explosion of flavor. “Is that what you sound like in bed?” That smirk again…
Fine. I’ll play along. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I would.”
“Hasn’t the High Lord taught you that such flirtations can be looked down upon by your subjects?”
“They aren’t my ‘subjects,’ they’re my Court. And my father is a big believer of seizing the moment and enjoying life.” I ponder that while taking another bite of the delicious cuisine.
When we’re done eating he takes me to the dance floor. I hesitate but he pulls and pulls and ends up picking me up and taking me there despite my protests that I don’t dance, especially not the kind of dance they were doing… ”I’ve never been here, I don’t know how to move like they do,”
“They’re all doing their own thing. Ignore everyone and just dance with me!” He smiles, my body is stiff so he picks me up and places my feet atop his boots, doing all the work for me. We get a drink and keep dancing. I let loose after the second drink, feeling the liquid courage like electricity in my veins. The alcohol in the Day Court is much stronger than any other place I’ve been to, but it’s also the most delicious. There is such a variety! Sweet and bitter, spicy and soothing… I want to try it all but decide against it as Lucien spins me around and the world keeps moving even after he’s stopped. “Lightweight, are we?”
“I’m not lightweight! I’ve had more than you!” I playfully hit his arm. We laugh and eat some more, dance some more, drink some more… he walks me home and kisses my cheek.
From then on, everyday Lucien appears at the library during my shifts. Once he learns my schedule he starts to pop in to have lunch with me. And he’ll walk me home at unholy hours of the night, giving me flowers and taking me somewhere special along the way every once in a while. His sarcasm comes with a charm that I don’t think he can help. His little jabs make me roll my eyes and smile at the same time.
(Two months later)
“Go out with me.” It’s not a question.
I smile, “no.”
Every few days he’ll ask again. And again. And… again.
Come to dinner with me
Let me take you on a date
Come on, go out with me… please?
Always followed by a spicy comment and that sly smirk of his.
I’ll make it worth your while
You know you want me
I would treat you so good
Each and every line sends a tendril of pleasure down my spine. And every time…
No
What makes you think I’m interested?
Give up
But he doesn’t, he asks and asks until one night, we’re back at the same place he took me that first night. Fire burning, people dancing, music playing and he spins me around like I’m nothing but a feather in his arms. He sets me down gently and I look up at him. His fiery hair, his mismatched eyes, those perfect, possibly, probably tasty lips, parted as he pants slightly from all the dancing. My eyes land on the scars on the left side of his face. I lift my right hand to it, the other clutching his bicep. “How?” It’s barely a whisper, but he hears it and cringes, realizing what I’m touching, what I’m asking. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”
“Who?”
“An evil queen,” he smirks.
“Oh… and you’re the knight in shining armor, are you?”
“At the time I was more of the silver tongued best friend of the knight in shining armor,” he smiles down at me, pulling me closer, only slightly. “But I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
Fuuuuuckkkk! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuckidy fuck fuck…
Fuck it.
I kiss him. hard and deep and full of passion. Would I say the two and a half drinks I had gave me enough courage? Yes. But he’s here, and I’m here and his lips are on mine and it’s heaven. It’s silk and it’s velvet and honey and cinnamon, it’s hot but gentle, firm but oh so sweet. And then he lifts me, wrapping his arms around my thighs, hugging them, not giving me a chance to wrap them around his waist and I’m in heaven, my head is higher than his and I’m in control. He gave me control. I could pull away and be out of his reach but I lean down and move my lips against his. I part my lips for him but he makes to move besides slightly nudging my nose with his. Refusing to take a step he’s not sure I’ll regret. So I take it, I snake my tongue past his parted lips and taste him. And there it is. His appearance screams Autumn Court and even though his scent has the softest hint of aloe vera among the pine and cinnamon and oak, Lucien tastes like Day. It’s inexplicable. He tastes like light. He tastes like all the best things in the world combined, like the land of milk and honey that they pray to the Mother about.
We part and I kiss his scar. I kiss over the marred eyelid and down his cheek, onto his jaw. He lets out a breath. Of arousal? Relief? I don’t know. But the way he says my name…
“(Y/N)”
The sound that comes from me is not appropriate for the current setting so he puts me down and scrambles for my bag, the rose he gave me earlier today poking out the opening. He throws me over his shoulder and runs to my apartment, climbing the stairs until we’re at my door and he puts me down, kissing me again. He doesn’t ask me to open my door. Doesn’t ask me for the keys. He makes no move to go inside and it only makes me want him more.
He pulls away, “go out with me? On a date. A real date.” He presses his forehead to mine. He’s never quite asked those sorts of questions, he’s more so told me to go on a date with him, firm, confident but tonight his voice is borderline begging and through my daze I smirk.
“Will you make it worth my while?”
He smiles and nods, “every second.” He kisses me again but soon we both realize it needs to end. I go into my apartment and he goes back to his palace. I ponder over my night as I bathe and get ready for bed. I can’t do this. The heir of Day? I facepalm and fall down onto my bed, cursing my horny self until I fall asleep.
For our first date Lucien pays the owner of his favorite restaurant to stay open until 4 am. It’s perfect. The soft string music, the food, the bottle of wine he chose and the fae light illuminating the only table occupied. Then he takes me to the observatory and shows me the stars up close.
Dating Lucien is as easy as breathing. He puts great amounts of effort into everything he does and never misses a chance to reassure me and make sure I know that my arms are the ones he wants around his neck, that it’s my lips he wants against his. He never hesitates to kiss me, no matter where we are. He’s playful and lighthearted but also ready and willing to open up and be vulnerable, as hard as it is. Which, in turn, encourages me to do the same.
The first time I let Lucien stay the night I make him promise to behave. Which he does. He showers and changes into sweats and then I shower and change into some modest sleepwear. Besides a few kisses and his hand around my waist, Lucien is the perfect gentlemale. So, in the morning, I decide to surprise him with waffles… wearing his tunic from the night before. I make everything from scratch and as I pour the batter on the hot metal over the fire, warm hands come around my waist.
“It smells delicious,” he kisses my head. Then my temple. Then my cheek and my jaw. Then down my neck and ooohhh… gods.
“You behaved so well last night I thought you deserved a treat!” I smirk.
“Mhmm,” he mumbles as he continues his assault on my neck. He takes one of the cooking waffles and bites into it. “These are amazing!”
“I wasn’t talking about the waffles,” I smirk.
He leans down to my ear and I put away the rest of the batter. “(Y/N)?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t joke like that.”
“Who said it was a jo-ahhhhh!” He slings me over his shoulder and marches to the bedroom like a male on a mission.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes!”
“Are you sure?” The desperation in his voice is prominent and only makes me want him more.
“Yes!” I chuckle. He worships my body, feeling for it like a blind male trying to memorize a line of text. “You… oh! You can be rougher if you want.”
“How rough?” He nips at my ear.
I smirk, “how ever rough you wanna be.” With a growl he only holds back enough to have me pick a safe word before ravaging me in the most delicious ways.
Sex with Lucien is… it simply is. There’s no feeling like it. The fluidity in it. The way he can so effortlessly go from making love with slow, deep strokes to flipping me over and practically breeding me is mind boggling. He’s not afraid to share his kinks and explore my own. And I can never tell what he’ll be in the mood for. Sometimes he’ll want to do nothing but torture and tease me half the night. Others, he’s feral, wanting nothing but to fill me as many times as he can. And some nights, all he wants is to hold my hips tightly as I ride him and call him ‘my good boy.’
Four months into our relationship and I’ve been putting off meeting his family for weeks. I can tell he doesn’t want to push but also doesn’t understand my hesitation. Meeting the parents is a big deal and I’m not ready for the pressure… though putting it off has proven to be more stressful than getting it over with lately. So, here I stand, 8 am, with enchanted flowers in one hand and a book in the other and Lucien’s hand on the small of my back. He refused to let me bring food, stating that his family was hosting breakfast, so I've spent the past week wracking my brain for gifts for his parents. “I can’t.”
“You can!”
“I’m gonna throw up…” and he kisses me.
“You’ll be fine. I’ve got you,” his smile is reassuring and his eyes hold no lies. But my mind, my heart, knows that after everything he’s been through. All the things he was willing to share. He would never choose me over his family, at least… not this one. So his attempt at reassurance, for once, falls flat.
His parents come to meet us at the front steps and my legs shake as I curtsy. His mother clicks her tongue, “oh none of that!” She pulls me into a hug that I hesitate to reciprocate due to the suddenness of it. The High Lord laughs at his High Lady’s excitement and kisses my hand once she lets me go. Now I see where Lucien gets his charm…
“Come,” the High Lord’s voice is warm and inviting, “breakfast is being served on the veranda.” He wraps an arm around his lady’s waist and Lucien does the same to me and guides me around the palace. His parents are incredibly welcoming and I notice neither of them wear their crowns or any other marker that would separate them from the common folk.
“Here…” I hand the enchanted flowers to the High Lady, “they’ll stay in bloom for several years.” Then I turn to the High Lord and offer him the hardcover book, “Lucien mentioned you liked his works and I got my hands on an advanced copy of the next book in the series. It’s yours to keep.” He examines the book, the 15th in a fantasy series that had put many readers in a chokehold. The High Lord lets out an excited chuckle before putting an arm around me and whispering to Lucien something about me ‘being a keeper.’ I smile at the compliment and he leads me the rest of the way to the breakfast table, covered in all kinds of dough and jams and juices… everything looks delicious!
It takes a few minutes but I relax, the High Lady not hesitating to ask me every question that pops into her mind. But I’m happy to oblige until…
“Mommy?” A high pitched, clearly sleepy voice asks from the door. All our heads turn to see the newcomer, “why are you having breakfast so early?!” She whines and rubs her eyes. The Day Court is known for late mornings. The High Lord and Lady, being aware of my schedule, offered an earlier breakfast since they were so eager to meet me.
Lady Day picks up her daughter and explains, “we’re meeting Lucien’s girlfriend today, dear. She has to be at work in a few hours so we wanted to meet her while accommodating her schedule.” Her sleepy eyes follow her mother’s finger that’s outstretched towards me. The small female’s eyebrows furrow and before I can fully raise my hand to wave she turns her head and places it on her mother’s shoulder. “Oh come, Vena! Be nice,” the High Lady looks to me then, “she’s… shy. And grumpy in the morning” I nod, even though that sounded nothing like the little girl Lucien has so often described to me.
“You know, Vena… (Y/N) and I were thinking we could take you for ice cream this afternoon during her lunch break.”
“No, thank you,” the little female mumbles into her mother’s shoulder. The slight sting of rejection reaches my body and I fidget, no longer feeling at ease here. Breakfast goes on and the small female doesn’t eat anything, opting to keep her head hidden in her mother’s neck and away from me.
As Lucien and I start to make our way out of the palace, his hand around my waist when we reach footsteps and his arm is yanked from my waist as Venus tugs him back. “Lushy, come play!”
He crouches down to her level and ruffles her hair, “I’ll walk (Y/N) to work and then we can play! Dad and I only have meetings in the evening. And maybe you can rethink that ice cream with me and (Y/N)?” His back is to me but I see the slight nod he gives in my direction. The female simply folds her arms, furrows her eyebrows and pouts.
“It’s ok, Loosh…” I cautiously interrupt, “I can walk to work.” I give him a smile as he turns his head to me, still crouching down.
“No, I want to walk you, her and I have all afternoon,” that million dollar smile appears again and he kisses his sister’s chubby cheeks before standing. I want him to stay. Maybe if I can prove to Venus that I’m not stealing Lucien away she’ll warm to me.
He takes my hands and I squeeze his, “you should stay,” I look down at the pouting female who doesn’t meet my eye. “Maybe you can convince her to get ice cream later,” I smile encouragingly and rise on the balls of my feet to kiss his cheek. He sighs but complies. “Bye Venus!” I smile at her and wave but she doesn’t look, I bite my lip and walk towards the large open doors of the Palace. I don’t look back, but I can hear Lucien quietly scolding her for being rude and her lively changing the subject to what she wants to play.
Around 3 pm Lucien shows up, alone, with two ice creams obviously enchanted not to melt. “Couldn’t convince her, huh?”
He sighs and hands me my ice cream, “no.” He doesn’t say anything else because there is nothing to say. A few minutes pass before I ask the question that’s been bouncing around in my head since I left the palace.
“Do you think there’s anything I can do?”
“She’s… territorial.”
“I’m not stealing you away.” A part of me fears he may believe that’s what I’m trying to do.
“I know that,” he kisses my head with a chuckle, scooching closer. “But she’s little and she’s a bit used to having her way. And I’ll say it; I’m partially responsible. I’ve never had a sibling I was close to and she loves me so much I- I can’t tell her ‘no.’”
I kiss his cheek, remembering all he told me about growing up in Autumn, “I know.”
Lucien smoothly changes the subject to a lighter topic and exerts his power of putting me at ease.
By our 8th month together I’m a somewhat regular visitor to the Day Court Palace. I’ve stayed the night once or twice and the High Lady braided my hair each of those mornings, much to Venus’ distress. Her crimson curls are still too short to braid like mine and her mother tries to appease her with bows and clips but to no avail. I’ve tried and tried to gain her approval but it’s quite clear the small female never wants to be in my company. Soon enough I start to believe there’s something wrong with me… kids can sense those thighs, right? When someone isn’t a good person? Maybe she can sense something the others can’t. And it seems like she will do anything to make me go away at every chance she gets.
Like the time I came looking for Lucien one morning only to find him in the palace’s library with Venus on his shoulder holding a book for her big brother;
“Hey there you two!” I greet.
“Hey!” He greets me with a kiss, “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”
“I had some time and I wanted to bring you these,” I hand him a tray of cupcakes, “my friend had the amazing idea of making cupcakes last night after a few glasses of wine but they didn’t turn out half bad!”
He laughs and looks at the cupcakes, “I hope they taste better than they look?”
“Trust me they - ow!” A hard object comes crashing down on my head and my hand flies to the point of impact.
A soft giggle and a sang out, “sowy,” has Lucien pulling his sister off his shoulders and reprimanding her. She pouts but looks disinterested in his lecture. He puts her down to examine the bump forming on my hairline and she tugs at his pants in protest.
“No, Vena! You could’ve really hurt her!” At his reprimand she huffs and pushes my leg before running out of the library. Lucien fusses over me but the sting on my head is nothing compared to the fire in my veins.
“Go after her.”
“She’s fine.” He tries to move my hand that’s covering the spot the book hit.
“No. I’m fine. Just go after her, I need to go to work anyway.” I take a deep breath and set the cupcake down on a nearby table. He follows, hovering behind me.
“You’re angry?” He’s confused?!
“No.” Yes, “she needs you more than I do,” she does. I turn to kiss his cheek and he goes to kiss my lips. I kiss back but it’s half assed and I kick myself for it. She’s 3, almost 4 years old! How am I letting a child get under my skin like this?
I walk out of the library in a rush, leaving Lucien there with a slight frown on his perfect lips.
Or the time I got off early from work to join them for dinner;
“It’s so lovely to have you around. Lucien seems so much happier when you’re here, like there’s a lightheartedness only you bring out in him.” The High Lady sips her wine as we sit on the balcony after dinner. Below us, Lucien and Helion are sparring, the sight of his bare, scared chest making it hard not to think about how every single inch of that chest feels under my fingers. How I’ve kissed each scar and the sounds he made when I did….
I need a cold shower.
I seemingly get my wish as cold, freezing water pours on my head. My yelp causing the sparring to cease. The cold night air much more prominent now. We all look up to see a giggling Venus holding an empty glass through the marble pillars that make up the balcony above. Her governess rushes to reprimand her and the High Lady rushes to apologize and gets me something to dry myself with. The High Lord offers me a spare room and bath but I decline and Lucien walks me home even after I tell him several times I want to walk alone.
“You could’ve spent the night…”
“You know I don’t like to.”
He sighs, “I don’t like that you don’t like it,” we reach my door and before I can put the key in the lock he takes my hands. “I’m sorry about tonight. I don’t know why Venus keeps doing these things-”
“Because she doesn’t like me.”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes! It is! And no matter what I do she won’t like me. I’ve tried. I get her gifts and she rolls her eyes or she’ll say she already has that toy. I give her compliments and she acts like I don’t exist! I offer her ice cream, candies, baked goods or even fun activities and she looks at me like I’m a peasant begging for scraps! I can’t even be near you in her presence without getting something thrown, poured or yanked off me!”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“And it’s gonna work this time?” He opens his mouth but ends up biting his lip. And I know this is the beginning of the end. I’d never ask him to choose, that’d be petty and idiotic. And relationships tend not to work if the family doesn’t like one’s partner. “Good night, Loosh.” I kiss him. Deeply, like it’s the last time, before opening my door and heading inside, deciding to take a hot bath.
25 days….
25 days before our one year anniversary and I’m thinking of if I should end it. How I should end it. I sit in the library, having finished all my filing and paperwork early, trying to read my book but I can’t concentrate. My thoughts are too loud.
I know Lucien knows his sister dislikes me but he keeps making excuses!
She’s a prankster
She’s a little jealous, she’s never shared me before
You’re my females, you’ll get along eventually
No. We won’t. We haven’t. And the more time I spend with him, the more time I spend at the palace, the more I realize how this relationship is bound to end. So I sit in my sad little stool and cry.
17 days…
I’m at Day Court Palace early in the morning and I wait for Lucien in his study. I sit there for a moment, I’ve only been in his study a handful of times and never for long. So I leisurely browse the books on his shelves, the maps framed on his walls and after I’ve done about three, slow rounds around the room I allow myself to sit in his chair and look around. I catch a glimpse of a frame on his desk, it’s the letter I wrote him for Solstice, given along with some gift I hated. What do you even give to a male who has it all? So I gave him love and affection. I told him in writing how much he means to me and how much hope I have for us and this relationship.
I frown.
Had. I had hope for it.
I reach for the frame and accidentally knock the trash can under his desk over, “shit.” I push the chair back and get down on my hands and knees to pick up the loose papers. Putting everything back in the bin, a flash of color catches my eye in a crumpled paper. Not a ball but like it was clenched in a fist and tossed aside. I open it up, even though I shouldn’t, in curiosity. The air is taken from me and tears brim my eyes. It’s me. Drawn in crayon, the colorful picture leaves nothing to the imagination regarding how Venus feels about me. The almost 3 year old drew my hair a mess, my clothes in tatters! Sharp teeth, claws, horns and stinky lines above my head. An arrow going from the wrong spelling of my name with a few letters written backwards.
And then there was Lucien, drawn much smaller and with swirls for eyes, like I’m hypnotizing him. I fold the paper, as small as I can and clench it in my hand. I wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. I write Lucien a note and leave it on his desk. Some bull shit about needing to be at the library earlier than expected and I take off, holding myself back from running out of the palace., praying to any gods listening that I don’t bump into any member of the High family.
12 days….
I’ve been putting it off. It’s too hard. Everytime I look at him my heart clenches, begging me to stay, To keep him with me. But then that picture pops into my head and I find myself fighting tears. The drawing lies hidden inside an old book in my nightstand drawer and I think it’s what’s keeping me from sleeping. The day I found the drawing I had been at the palace to tell Lucien that the Library acquired a third person to work there and I now have one day off a week! And I still haven’t told him.
I fooled him two days ago, going to sit at my usual picnic table by the library around my lunch hour but I don’t know if I have the strength to get out of bed today.
But, alas, I do.
I go to the palace, at Lucien’s request from last night, so he can walk me to work. And after two excuses weren’t enough to deter him from walking me, I gave in.
I meet him at the entrance and he kisses me and I go on my tippy toes to deepen it. For a moment everything is ok… it’s moments like these that make me want to stay, makes me want to put up with anything Venus is willing to plan for, to stay here, in this moment, in his arms.
The moment is short lived as I feel a force crash against my leg, causing me to lose my footing and if Lucien wasn’t so fast I’d have hit the floor. I look down to where the impact happened and a pouting Venus stands there, her mother in tow.
“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)!” The High Lady apologizes, giving her daughter a dangerous look.
“It’s alright,” I wave off. She’s done worse.
My face might be showing more than I intended because the High Lady’s eyes soften when she meets mine. Offering an apologetic yet understanding expression.
Lucien crouches to her level, “come on Vena… stop this!” He practically begs his sister, tugging at her arms to get her to uncross them but she won’t budge, turning away from him and raising her arms to her mother. My heart aches. I did this. I, somehow, caused this rift between them. I need to do it. Now!
But then he looks at me and I can’t… “I’m sorry about her��” he rubs the back of his neck and I shake my head.
“Don’t worry about it,” he takes my hand, surely ready to walk me to work like everything is fine. “Maybe you should spend some time with her,” I nod to Venus, still clinging to the High Lady.
Lucien shakes his head, “I spent all day with her yesterday and I miss you,” he presses his forehead to mine.
Don’t. Cry. “I missed you too…” I don’t know if I can make it to the library without crying. “But she still needs you. It’s only twenty minutes to the library, I think I’ll survive,” I smile.
“But you walked all the way here! And I want to.”
Before I can respond Venus lets out an unimpressed whine and I want to run out of there. “Maybe she needs more ‘brother time,’” I offer a big smile and force it to reach my eyes.
Lucien deflates a bit but then looks at Venus and sighs, a signal that he’ll comply. “I’ll see you tonight though,” it’s not a question.
I nod, “I’ll see you tonight,” and I back away, letting my hands slip out of his as he stretches out his arms, holding me for as long as he can. As I turn I catch a glimpse of Lady Day, Venus’ face tucked into her neck and that apologetic and understanding expression gaining a hint of sadness.
I was right. I don’t make it to the library without crying.
Lucien comes for lunch and I’m sure he can tell something’s off. I’m quieter through lunch but I tell him it’s a headache and he seems to leave it be.
He picks me up at the end of my shift and takes me to another late night festival. We always have fun at these and I want to cry at how poetic ending this relationship on a night like this feels. I steal every kiss I can. I don’t drink, not a sip. I want this memory untainted. I relish in every last; a last meal, a last laugh, a last hug and dance and whispered words made of honey.
We’re dancing slowly, slightly away form the crowd, my head on his chest, taking in his scent like a female in heat when he speaks up. “You know… we’ve been together almost a year.”
“Yeah.” I look up at him, his eyes are full of something I can’t place.
“And there’s something we need to talk about,” oh gods. He’s gonna do it! I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. If he ends it then I don’t have to, I can have it easy and just cower away once all is said and done. “I know it’s early, but I want you to know…”
Oh no! No, no, no! I read it all wrong! I finally place the emotion on his eyes; love.
No. This can’t be happening. Before he can utter another word, my own come tumbling out of me like word-vomit, “we’re done.”
He chuckles, “We’ll go in a second I need to get this off my chest.”
“No. Lucien…” I back away from his hold slightly, his hand on my biceps and mine on his forearms. “We are done. I-” Be brave. Lift your chin and stay strong. I tell myself. “I’m breaking up with you.” I barely keep my voice from breaking but the silent tears are enough to leave me raw for him to see.
“What?” His question is soft. Innocent.
“I can’t do this-”
“Be with me?”
“Yes.”
A beat. Two. Three… gods. “Why?” I give him a knowing, yet, sad look. He puts a hand on my cheek, “(Y/N)…”
“I’m sorry. But I can’t. It’s never going to work out if she doesn’t like me and I’ve accepted the fact that she doesn’t. She’s your sister and she comes first. I can’t-”
“I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her understand this time. She’ll warm up to you! I swear!” I’ve never heard him so desperate and it breaks my heart. So much so that I can do little more than shake my head. My cheeks are wet with new and old tears alike. And his eyes are shining with unshed tears too, one slides down his cheek as he blinks. “No,” he breathes, urging me to go back on my decision.
“Yes,” I counter.
“No!”
“Lucien… I can’t do it. I can’t. Me. It’s hurting me.” I gesture to myself. “It’s not just the pranks and the pushing and that scowl she gives me. It’s the fact that she doesn’t like me and worse than that she’s made it clear to everyone! I don’t want to be the reason there’s a rift between you.” I take a step back.
He takes a step forward, “you’re not causing a rift.”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” I give him a look that says, don’t lie to me.
“(Y/N) please!”
“You can’t say you didn’t see thi-”
“Don’t do this!”
“Lucie-”
“You want me to beg?” He drops to his knees, holding my waist, “I’ll beg!”
“Get up.”
“(Y/N)!”
“Lucien!” I try to get free from his grip but he holds me tight. People look and walk away slightly so we get the illusion of privacy and the band starts to play a notch louder. “Get. Up.”
He shakes his head and looks up into my eyes, “I love you! There. I said it. I love you! That’s what I was going to tell you.”
I cry more, shaking my head. “It doesn’t change the fac-”
“Do you love me?”
“What?”
“Do you love me?! Do you love me back?”
“Lucien…”
“Answer!” He yells. Yes. I want to say. I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you. I love you. I love you. I want to tell him in every way, in every language, twice over for good measure.
“No.”
He deflates. “You’re lying,” he’s sure of himself. I see it in his eyes. There’s no doubt that he knows I love him back and me not saying it doesn’t change the fact that I do.
I finally get out of his hold. He’s on his feet in an instant scrambling to keep a hold of my hands, my wrists, my arms, anything he can grab a hold of to keep me here. I snake my hands away but he keeps chasing them with his own. Every step back for me is just another half step forward for him.
And he begs again, “(Y/N) please! I’ve spent my entire life begging to be loved. Yearning for a love like this! I spent so long thinking I’d never get it, that I don’t deserve it! After my mate rejected me I thought fate had forsaken me and that I was destined to be alone. And when Venus was born I took it as a sign, a sign that I would not be the one to continue my blood line… and then you,” his voice breaks, he still scrambles to catch my avoidant hands. “You give me all I wanted and more… for free. You ask for nothing in return and more than that you make me feel like I actually deserve it! So please, don’t take it away. Stay. Please! Please. Please…”
“You are loved, Lucien. Despite me. You have the loving family you’ve always deserved, you have a sister who loves you to death!”
“That’s not the kind of love I’m talking about and you know it!” He repremends.
I sigh and cup his face, “I am not your person. But she’s out there. And you will find her. And if you truly believe you love me, the wrong person… imagine how much you’ll love the right one when she comes along,” he closes his eyes, leaning into my touch and shaking his head.
“I did find her.” When he opens his eyes I see defeat. I drop my hand form his cheek and try to think of something to say. Something to soothe his aching heart…
But there is nothing.
I back away and he doesn’t follow. I back away again but his feet are planted to his spot. I take a deep breath, taking him in again one last time before the tears blur him to me, allowing my body to turn around and fully walk away from him. I don’t remember getting home or bathing or eating but I wake up with wet hair and dirty dishes the next morning and for the first time since I started working at the library, I send a request to have one of the others fill in for my shift for the next few days.
Lucien’s POV
I cry all the way back to the palace, forcing my breathing to be steady despite how hard my heart is beating against my ribs. I go into a random room, throwing a vase at the wall before crumpling down onto a couch and crying into my hands.
“Darling?” Mom’s soft voice sounds from the door and I can hear her soft, slipper-covered steps making their way to me. “I heard a crash, are you-” a soft gasp leaves her lips as she takes me in. “Oh, dear… I’m so sorry,” she sits beside me and rubs my arms, laying her head on my shoulder. “I didn’t think she’d do it so soon…”
My head whips to her, “what?”
“Well, come now, you must’ve known… or… well… perhaps you didn’t see...”
“See what?”
She bites her lip, “I knew that Venus’ actions bothered her but it wasn’t until this morning that I saw it in her eyes. The resolve, the hurt…”
My blood heats and the fireplace comes to life at my anger, “and you didn’t tell me?” I hiss.
“I was going to warn you tonight. I thought you had more time… I am sorry.”
I cry into her arms, “I love her, mom. I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s everything. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my days by her side. I would give her anything! Anything she wanted I’d give… but the one thing she needed… it wasn’t even mine to give.” I lay on her lap as her thin fingers comb through my hair.
I’m almost asleep when the door opens and shuts, a soft, sleepy voice calls out, “mommy? Mommy, I can’t go back to sleep.”
Venus slowly makes her way to us and I pretend to be asleep. My mother answers her, “what woke you up, sweetheart?”
“I needed potty,” I can hear her yawn.
“Oh! At least you woke up this time, that’s good right?”
There’s a pause before she asks, “why’s Lushy here?”
“Lushy had a rough night,”
“Was (Y/N) mean to him?” Her tone is accusatory, only proving (Y/N) right and it takes everything in me to keep my body from shaking with a guttural sob.
My mother sighs, “(Y/N) won’t be coming around anymore, Venus.”
“Really?” She sounds excited…
“Your brother is very upset by it,” my mother reprimands, “please have some sympathy.”
“Sim- siam- sapaty?”
“Sympathy. Please understand that he’s hurting and don’t look too overjoyed at it.”
“Why did she go?”
Mom lets out another sigh, “it’s complicated, sweetheart.”
“Is this grown up stuff again?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Awwweeeee!” I hear her yawn again and I hear shuffling. Probably the sound of her climbing onto the couch on mom’s other side.
About what feels like an hour later mom whispers, “she’s asleep. Go to bed, darling… at least try to rest.”
I don’t move for a few minutes before getting up and wordlessly going to my room. I bathe in scalding water before plopping down in bed and crying myself to sleep.
The next morning I stay in bed until my hunger forces me to scavenge for food. I’d usually ask the servants to prepare something but I’m not looking forward to any fae interactions. I head to the extremely large kitchen and ask one of the kitchen members I know by name for some of last night's left overs. The kitchen makes little portions of what we don’t eat for either them to take home or to be donated the next day. She hands me a box with yesterday's date on it and I thank her, grabbing a fork and eating on the staff’s table in the kitchen. I use my powers to heat up my food, deciding that eating it cold to torture my self is a little much.
On my way back to my room Vena practically runs into me as she runs away from her governess, “Lushy! Come play with me!”
I shake my head, “I’m not feeling well, Vena, maybe some other time?”
She pouts and then lunges for my leg, hugging it, “I hope you feel betta!”
I hold in tears as I pick her up and kiss her chubby cheeks. She holds my face in her tiny hands and says, “I love you Lushy! Best big brodda ever!” She kisses between my eyebrows and I put her down, telling her to behave for her governess. She runs along accepting that I’m in no condition to play.
I wobble back to my room and collapse back on the bed, crying until I’m dehydrated and I fall asleep again. I can’t fix this. I can’t get her back and I can’t make Vena like her. I’m lost… and she’s lost to me.
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