#thine own ocs

[kaworusbetterthanme]

First attack for Artfight! It's James with summer vibes, for @anarch0ratt. Late entry and a friendly fire, but I got inspired by the really cool star design on xyr back. I had a lot of fun drawing xyr!

[arlathen]

"it's unrealistic/ooc for lavellan to still be in love with or pining after solas after ten years" absolute skill issue. git gud at yearning and devotion idiot.

[herok1ng]

current au verses being worked on : >:)

dnd - based !

modern ! ( im always a sucker for a good modern verse lol )

stard/ew valley ! ( also adjacent with things like harvest moon & fields of mistria )

final fanta/sy xiv ! ( this is partially made already but i havent added the details yet )

final fanta/sy xvi !

final fanta/sy versus xiii (thanks ailli lol) !

sailor moo/n !

annnnnnd adding twe/wy to the mix :) and eventually kingdo/m hearts

current verses i have made but haven't written up / posted yet ( i will soon im sorry lol ) : final fantasy vii , fe:3h , fe: awakening , general fantasy

[renovachrono]

OC x Canon Think Piece: ZoRora

god this took a month to finish but i'm glad I did it and got these losers out of my brain for a while~ og questions can be found and reblogged here

insanely long ramblings under the cut, do not perceive.

🤝: How did they meet in the first place? What was there first impression of each other?

They didn't meet under the kindest of circumstances, but they both like to think it was fate. Aurora arrived to the Clover Kingdom in a similar fashion to Yami, washed up on a lonely shore after a shipwreck. To make a very long story short, Zara saved her life. He took it upon himself to watch after the girl with no family in a foreign land until she recovered from being sick, and that is how Zora and Aurora met. His dad brought home this soggy lump one night, and the rest was history. As for first impressions, Aurora's very first impression of Zora was practically a fever dream of him watching her while his dad got some rest, but she thought he had very soft eyes. When she got to know him a little better, she thought he was a very soft-spoken boy with a bit of sass and just a hint of mischief to him, which she quickly learns is a little more than just a hint. Zora's first impression was: soggy lump on his couch. He understood his dad's desire to help people in need and to protect children in danger, but he really was NOT sure on whether that extended to the point of bringing a kid home. Aurora was sick, shy, and a little reserved with only a slight knowledge of the Common language, and so he just... really was not sure about all of it, but he trusted his dad. (He also thought she was very pretty when she wasn't a soggy, sneezy lump, but he would never admit it.)

🫶: Who ended up falling first? Which of them actually realized that they’d fallen in love first?

I would definitely say Aurora realized it first, but it's debatable over who actually fell first. I'd say Zora caught feelings first, but he didn't call it love for a while.

🦀: How did they handle realizing they were in love? Embarrassed? Nervous? Mad?

Aurora had always sort of accepted it? As just a fact of life. Like yea. Grass is green, sky's blue, I love Zora. She's never been shy about the fact he was her first love, but she's been a hopeless romantic since she was a kid. I think once she realized, once the met again as adults, that he was still the one she loved... then she got nervous. It's one thing to be a child ~in love~ with her best friend, daydreaming about their future wedding and all, but it's another thing entirely to be 26, looking at the man sat beside her and thinking to yourself gods, I want this for the rest of my life. THAT'S when the fear kicks in. ZORA ON THE OTHER HAND... was almost the opposite in a way. There's still a certain level of fear and uncertainty, but for him, realizing he loves Aurora is almost liberating in a way. He had someone in his life who was reliable, this constant pillar at his side after being on his own for a very, very long time. For him, it was this moment of looking at the woman sat beside him and thinking to himself Oh. I'm in love with her, aren't I? and it's such a casual realization for him. Like right. Duh. Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? For both of them, though, their biggest concern is ruining what they have together already. It's such a slow burn.

🫣: Who stumbled the most with their feelings around the other? How much did the other person notice?

As kids, Aurora definitely. She did not have the poker face of steel that she has now. She got shy and flustered and timid, and Zora sorta noticed, but he wasn't as observant as he is now back then. Zara used to point it out all the time, and Zora mainly thought his dad was teasing him about his own feelings. ("She likes you, ya know..." "Daaad, no she doesn't-") Zora actually stumbles the most as adults, surprisingly. Aurora's just had so much time to make peace with her feelings that she knows how to function around them, meanwhile with Zora, emotions are something he's kind of pushed off. He doesn't even stumble so much as it's like. He mixes signals the way Aurora mixes liquor. He'll suggest a day out, just them, getting away from the noise. He invites her on so many excursions that rightfully could be considered dates, but he's also always the first to point out to others that they're just friends. Meanwhile, Aurora's pretty oblivious, so she takes his words at face value and doesn't think too much into the fact that no, he's definitely taking her on dates, this is definitely dating. This literally goes on for YEARS.

🦅: How good are their friends at being wingmen? Do they even help at all or just sit back watching the pining with a bag of popcorn?

Look. The Bulls do NOT make for good wingmen, but some of them are good to talk to. They've TRIED to help, but quickly learned that pressing Zora will result with a rainbow stinkbug or a pitfall trap, and pressing Aurora only leads to denial. Vanessa and Grey will often encourage Aurora to confess to him, but for the most part, the Bulls are team popcorn.

💕: Who confessed first and how? Did it go as planned or did shenanigans ensue?

I have imagine a trillion and four scenarios of them confessing to each other, and almost each and every time it's never really been something intentional or thought out. It's usually a spur of the moment thing, where the question nags and nag and nags at someone until they find themselves speaking without really making the conscious choice to. Usually Zora's the first to ask, the first to cross that line with something akin to "Have you ever thought about what it'd be like? If we were together, as more than friends?" or something along those lines. And like I said earlier, Aurora is very casual about the fact that she knows she's in love with him, so when he asks its like "oh, yea, all the time, dude. literally all the time, I was thinking about it just now actually." and it usually takes Zo a little off guard bc he's having this moment of oh fuck why did i say that? what if this- meanwhile aurie's just like oh! yea dude always <3 cue the slow realization on zora's part that like oh. so every time he was telling himself not to read into it, he should have been reading into it because she WAS very obviously in love with him. he's an idiot, gotcha gotcha. MEANWHILE aurie's having a very similar realization of like. hmm. wait. why would he ask that if he wasn't interested. is he? and then she remembers all the times people were like GIRL he's SO INTO YOU just SAY SOMETHING and she brushed them off as being crazy and its like ohhhhh im stupid, okay gotcha. in conclusion it's always on accident and theyre just really stupid. they shove their heads so far into the sand to avoid ruining their friendship that they're just both ENTIRELY convinced the other isn't into them

🦋: How long did it take them to get out of the awkward early relationship stage? Have they gotten more confident around each other?

Okay so these fucking losers, right. They didn't really have an awkward phase in the traditional sense. They just sort of had this realization of like. Oh. Nothing changed. They're a little more open with their affection, perhaps more affectionate when the day dwindles down and the Bulls go off to do their own things and they get a little more privacy, but like. They more so have this moment of oh, so we're stupid. everyone else was right and we're stupid, we HAVE been basically together this whole time. right, right right. It DOES, in turn, make them a little more confident around each other though. They no longer feel the need to hide their affection in fear of ruining things, and little by little they realize that like. Neither of them were hiding it very well in the first place, their affections were just being accepted because the other felt the same way and wanted that connection in return. That sort of liberation on their restraint really brings out just how much they care about each other, and a level of like. Idk how to explain it, but like... the last bit of walls come down? Walls that they kept up not even for others, but walls that they kept for themselves? Like Aurora is a Pillar. She is a Shield. She is Strength incarnate. She does not show weakness in front of others because she wants to be seen as reliable and dependable. She wants to be the Big Sister everyone knows they can turn to, the one that can and will keep everyone safe when push comes to shove. She wants to seem like she has it all together, even when she doesn't, and with Zora, that starts to fall away. Zora can see her sick, can see when she's in pain, when she's struggling. He sees a much softer side of Aurora than most others do. A side that really, only her family has ever seen.

❤️‍🔥: Who tends to take the lead with showing affection?

I think for the vast majority of the time, Aurora does? At least in like, blatant, overt physical and verbal affection. Zora does instigate it himself a good deal, but he's a lot more... casual? natural? about it? it's like one moment they're just sitting on a couch in the study, talking magic theory, and after like an hour of just talking Aurora realizes his arm is around her shoulders and she's tucked into his side while they're looking at diagrams. she has no idea how long they've been sitting like this, and she makes no attempt to leave once she realizes it. Zora's also more of a actions speak louder than words kind of guy, so his affection is in the little things he does rather than in his words. Aurora is just inherently a lot more clingy and physically affectionate than Zora is, with everyone. She's a hugger. She loves to snuggle. Get loved, idiots. She's very sentimental, she's better with her words, and love and affection just radiate from her when she feels it. It's not even taking the lead so much as she just is affection.

💔: Do they have any previous relationship experience from past partners? How does it reflect on how they handle their current one?

Ooohh okokok so this one is fun because Aurora is actually demiromantic/demisexual, and she realized this (not that I think Clover has a word for it, nor does she have a comprehensive understanding of what it means to her specifically) via a relationship she had during young adulthood. She had never dated, never really had an interest in it the way her sister had, but she was kind of pressured by the (admittedly rather old-fashioned) woman that raised her and her sisters to "find a nice man to think about settling down with". Meanwhile there was this one dude from the village that just kept asking her out, would not really take no for an answer, just kept shooting his shot and granny was like maybe you should say yes!! he clearly really likes you!! you're not getting any younger, you should give the boy a chance. and so mostly to get granny off her back, she agreed to date this guy. And she really did not care for it at all. She had no real attraction to this guy, even though he seemed like a decent guy at first. But he didn't really want to be friends, he wanted to court her, and it was just so... uncomfortable, and she kept on thinking about how even though she was only like 9, 10, 11, 12 when she realized she had had a crush on Zora, she was infinitely happier back then. Zora made her feel a way that this guy simply could never achieve because he had no desire to forge that connection before asking for her hand. And so she broke things off and basically said like hey. If they cannot make me as happy as I felt with Zora as a literal child, they're really not worth my time and effort as an adult woman. Within that singular relationship though she also learned a lot about the way she wants to be treated. Not just at a friendship level, but like. The way she likes to give and receive affection, the way she wants to communicate through problems, the way she won't tolerate being spoken down to on the basis of being a woman, things like that. ANYWAYS FOR ZORA I've always been kinda back and forth on this because like. I can definitely see him having been in a relationship, but at the same time, can i see him being in a relationship??? he's canonically not the most social man in the world unless someone pushes their way into his world. I think Zora might have had maybe one or two relationships with varying degrees of seriousness? I think the big thing he's taken away from them is that there comes a point where the mask has to come off, both literally and metaphorically. You cannot have a relationship where your partner is kept at arms length. And there's a give and take between his partners feeling entitled to seeing what's behind the mask, and having "earned", for lack of a better word at the moment, Zora's comfort enough to bring the walls down. UNFINISHED

😑: How easily do they get jealous and how do they handle it?

Oh, so quickly. It's so bad, dude. I think it's actually way worse before they get together, honestly. It burns through them, how much they hate seeing the other person with someone else. Aurora once tanked the temperature of a busy tavern because a pretty lady was flirting with Zora. Just a moment of being so upset she lost control of her mana (and excellent mana control is kind of her thing). Zora just gets really fucking moody and bitter at this point, but he knows he doesn't have the "right" to make a scene by involving himself and giving the guy trying to buy Aurie a drink a piece of his mind. Once they get together, they kinda switch places lmfao. Aurora get's a lot more reasonable and level headed. Zora came here with her, and he's leaving with her. She knows this. That lady can flirt with a magic knight all she'd like, cause at the end of the day, Zora sleeps beside her. It doesn't make the interaction sour in the back of her throat any less, but it does help her keep calm. Zora, on the other hand, just loses his patience. He trusts Aurora, he knows just as she does that at the end of the night, she's coming home to him. He just hates seeing people try and flirt with her after she's shot them down. He's a bit possessive with what he considers his, and Aurora is his. This happens a lot less with Aurora because frankly, she's kinda got the Mereoleona thing going on where she's a rather muscular, strong woman that's immensely intimidating (she gets it from Mereo honestly), but when it does happen, Zora gives the guy like two chances after she shoots them down before he's crossing the room and wrapping an arm around her waist.

🐱: Do they have pet names for each other, if so what are they? How does their partner feel about their pet name?

So they don't really use a ton of pet names, really. Aurie calls him Zo more often than not, and that alone is a great deal of affection. When she's particularly affectionate, she might call him "my love". Things like "babe" are said casually, almost in the the same context as "bro". Zora feels a surge of pride when he hears *my* love, and he grins a little under his mask hearing it every time. Zora calls her Aurie, generally. Sweetheart started out as a teasing name, but slowly became a little more genuine over time. He doesn't call her "baby" often, but it does make an appearance every now again again. Aurora honestly really likes it when he calls her sweetheart. They also take the mick out of each other all the time, so there are some lighthearted teasing jabs they take at each other in good fun. Zora's a sarcastic lanky jerk, and she's a stubborn little shrimp. I think they use these insults affectionately more so before they get together, and by the time they're having kids they've migrated away from them pretty much entirely, but it's just a little way to tease.

🌙: Who has to force the other into having healthy sleeping habits? How well does that go for em?

insert grimace emoji here :) they have pretty similar sleeping habits, actually. they're both sort of night owls, so they both tend to stay up a little late. Aurora might push Zora a little just because she has a really rigid morning routine she sticks to despite not being a morning person, but for the most part, they're both just as bad as the other. I don't even see Aurora pushing him all that much. Like just because she wakes up at like 5am every day to start her day with training doesn't mean he has to. If Zora wants to sleep in, she won't stop him. When she calls it a night to get to bed, Zora generally also calls it a night though unless he's in the middle of something.

🗣️: Who’s the one that will ramble on about their highly specific interest while the other just sits back and nods along?

They technically both do, but 9 times out of 10 Zora yaps and Aurie listens. She just loves listening to him talk about his hobbies an interests. Like yes, tell her all about this book you're reading, tell her about the spellwork you're crafting and how that's going, tell her about inventions you've been tinkering with. She loves his brain, loves his passion for magic, loves his creativity, and she is so, so happy to just sit back and listen to him pour a stream of consciousness at her. Zora, yapping about his interests and current projects: Aurie, watching him with heart eyes: i want this man so bad

🐕: Do they have any pets together? If one of them had a pet from before their relationship how well does the pet get along with their partner? Do they have the pets approval or does said pet sit in between them and their partner any time they try to make a move?

At current they don't have any pets together, but I could definitely see them getting one or two when they're married and out on their own. I wouldn't call Caelus a pet, but Aurora's spirit does like Zora. It takes a little bit of warming up, but he sees how much Aurora cares about him and how much he cares about her and he eventually is like yea, he's alright. There was definitely a little bit of putting his tail around Aurora when they first got together, almost like a parent chaperoning teens being like no hanging out in your room with the doors closed! make room for jesus! but aurora eventually was like Caelus please. We're 27. I know you're a primordial spirit, but we are Not Young Anymore.

✏️: How canon compliant are you with them? Do you stick pretty close or just have fun cause it’s your ship so no one can tell you what to do other wise?

Its my ship and we ball!!!!!!!! I drive this ship and I don't have my license!!!! I tried to keep them mainly canon compliant, but this is my incredibly poorly written au and i want to have fun with it. The majority of the liberties taken surround childhood, but Zara still dies and Zora still ends up alone for the majority of his life. I genuinely think that if they had been able to grow up together through their entire lives, they'd both be fundamentally different characters. While I like having fun and bending what's in character, there does come a point where its like alright, yea that's just a complete au at this point.

💀: If the canon character is canonically dead, how did your OC handle their death? (Or did you completely omit their death cause fuck canon?)

thank fuck no one dies, we ball

💧: How well do they comfort each other when they’re upset?

Honestly, after a certain point, quite well. There's a solid amount of time for them where neither of them even really want to admit that they need comfort even when the other can clearly see that they're upset. Zora had gone so long without comfort that at first, receiving it felt like she was scaling him instead of soothing him. Re-learning how to lean into comfort was a learning process for both of them, but once they did, it came naturally. Now, Aurora can see Zora across the common room when people are being loud and see the irritation and the signs of a tension headache from him before he even really starts showing it. She knows how to wrap a casual arm around his shoulder and tug him towards the study where it's quieter and retreat from the chaos, which book to pull from the shelves to get his head rested in her lap while she runs her fingers through his hair, pulsing a little recovery magic to soothe the headache before it takes root. She knows how to hold and share in his grief during Zara's birthday, or the anniversary of his death. How to help keep the memories alive without stinging like a twisted knife. Now Zora knows the tell-tale signs that she's pushed herself too far again, that she's stretched too thin and she's not okay. He knows how to see past the poker face to see when she's stressed. Knows exactly when he needs to pull her into his arms and toss a blanket over them and just hold her for a little while vs when she needs some company for a little walk to the lake or stargazing on the roof. He knows the look in her eyes she gets when she misses her parents, her homeland, and holds space for her stories to keep the memories alive. These two really do learn how to read each other really well, but it came from a very long learning period... twice, technically.

🧸: Would they want to have kids together? If so what are their kid(s) like? How are they as parents?

They very much want kids together. They're likely going to end up with a few. Maybe 3 or 4? They're gonna be outnumbered for sure. As for what they're like as parents!! They both had incredible role models that they look up to as for what they want to be as parents. Zora really puts Zara on a pedestal, and Aurora can't blame him. He was an incredible man, and an incredible father, and Zora really wants to emulate the best parts of Zara with his own kids. He has a tendency to not really realize when something might come off as insensitive to a kid, but he's never outright cruel or mean or intentionally abrasive like he might be with adults. He very much strikes me as like, having a similar humor/approach as Loid Forger from spy x family. Kid: I'm being sold to traffickers!!!! Zora: Not if you behave, you won't. Kid: Papa, I want a pistol with a silencer!! Zora: Yea, sure, if there's one on sale. Aurora never knew her biological mother, having been Chronically Adopted pretty much her whole life, but she was incredibly fortunate to always have incredible parents in her life. The mother that raised her was the very picture of Have courage, and be kind. and that's something Aurora wants to carry to her children as well. She's very supportive, deeply empathetic, but is prone to the Too Much trait. She wants to take the best traits from all the parental figures she's had, from the three that raised her as a child, to Zara, Grangran, Mereoleona, and Julius. Trying to take the best traits from all these influences, though, results in her not necessarily showing the best from Aurora. She might be a bit overbearing at times, but I think she and Zora really compliment each other where the other might be lacking. They balance out quite nicely, and at the end of the day, they're just trying to work together to raise the happiest, healthiest kids they can. Their kids are a definite mixed bag of personalities! I do think they entertain the idea of keeping that Zara/Zora/Zera/Zyra/Zira naming pattern for the kids, but I don't think they entirely stick with it... mostly because a LOT of them sound way too similar at this point. I do think their eldest son is named after Zara, and I can see them using Zera or Zyra as a name as well. I think Aurora would want to honor her parents, namely her mother, by naming one of their daughters Cassiopeia (or Cassie for short). I really haven't given their kids a ton of thought yet, but the gears ARE turning for them.

👁️: What exactly do they want with their future with each other? Is that something they think of often or do they just stay in the moment?

They... do a little of both, really. For ZoRora, their future is the moment. Aurora always says that tomorrow is just as much a part of the future as five, ten, or forty years from now, and today is just yesterday's tomorrow. They don't really like to think that one day we're gonna spend our lives together because in truth, they're already spending their lives together. To them, it's about building a life together. They of course have dreams for what they might want in the future. Kids, a safe, cozy home to raise them in, maybe even jobs that don't put their kids at risk of growing up orphans the way they had (Aurora's still not entirely sure she's ready to give up being a magic knight, but Zora's willing to be a stay-at-home papa). They want to go on adventures and experience things and make memories together before they settle down, and once they settle down they still want to go on adventures with their kids. But through all of that, they want to make the most of each moment they get together because they've already experienced first hand just how quickly fate can tear them apart.

🕊️: Give just a general domestic tidbit for em (things they like about each other, routines, habits, and just overall sweet stuff)

Their favorite place to hang out at the end of the day is the study/library. Most of the Bulls don't really hang out in there unless they have something very specific they need to work on, so it's very rare for it not to be just the two of them. They can spend ages just reading in a comfortable silence together, or talking about magic, missions, or nothing really important at all. After dinner when the day's dwindled down, they can always be found there.

Aurora, even now, speaks common with the slightest accent still and Zora thinks it's the most endearing thing in the world. He used to tease her for it when they were kids until Zara pointed out that she only speaks with an accent because she knows one more language than he does, and that he would probably have a silly accent too if he tried to learn her native tongue.

Aurora really does think Zora's the smartest mage she's ever met. She's also insanely biased, but she's sticking to her guns on this. He's just so immensely creative and clever, so thorough and meticulous with his spells and his planning that a power difference doesn't mean shit.

They spar together often, and it's actually a really good matchup. Aurora has incredibly keen battle sense, as well as dexterity and monstrous strength, which challenges Zora to think quick or fight back since Aurie generally gets up close and personal. Meanwhile, Zora's aforementioned meticulous planning and clever traps keeps Aurie on her toes. She might outpower him by a landslide, but he can outsmart her any day of the week. Aurie's still got a few more wins on him from when they first started training together and she just constantly wiped the floor until Zora figured her out, but he's very quickly racking up more wins (loser buys lunch).

I haven't given a ton of thought into their kids, but I do very strongly feel like somewhere in their 4, they have a set of twins. I'm not sure if they're kids 1 and 2, or kids 2 and 3, but I feel like somewhere in there there's fraternal twins.

Ultimately, they just want kids that are happy and healthy, but when Aurie dreams about their kids she can't help but think about a bunch of little red heads with their dad's blue eyes running around.

playlist that makes me think abt the losers

[lightyaoigami]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ how to resume ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ

after 10 years & 6 jobs in corporate america, i would like to share how to game the system. we all want the biggest payoff for the least amount of work, right?

know thine enemy: beating the robots

i see a lot of misinformation about how AI is used to scrape resumes. i can't speak for every company but most corporations use what is called applicant tracking software (ATS).

no respectable company is using chatgpt to sort applications. i don't know how you'd even write the prompt to get a consumer-facing product to do this. i guarantee that target, walmart, bank of america, whatever, they are all using B2B SaaS enterprise solutions. there is not one hiring manager plinking away at at a large language model.

ATS scans your resume in comparison to the job posting, parses which resumes contain key words, and presents the recruiter and/or hiring manager with resumes with a high "score." the goal of writing your resume is to get your "score" as high as possible.

but tumblr user lightyaoigami, how do i beat the robots?

great question, y/n. you will want to seek out an ATS resume checker. i have personally found success with jobscan, which is not free, but works extremely well. there is a free trial period, and other ATS scanners are in fact free. some of these tools are so sophisticated that they can actually help build your resume from scratch with your input. i wrote my own resume and used jobscan to compare it to the applications i was finishing.

do not use chatgpt to write your resume or cover letter. it is painfully obvious. here is a tutorial on how to use jobscan. for the zillionth time i do not work for jobscan nor am i a #jobscanpartner i am just a person who used this tool to land a job at a challenging time.

the resume checkers will tell you what words and/or phrases you need to shoehorn into your bullet points - i.e., if you are applying for a job that requires you to be a strong collaborator, the resume checker might suggest you include the phrase "cross-functional teams." you can easily re-word your bullets to include this with a little noodling.

don't i need a cover letter?

it depends on the job. after you have about 5 years of experience, i would say that they are largely unnecessary. while i was laid off, i applied to about 100 jobs in a three-month period (#blessed to have been hired quickly). i did not submit a cover letter for any of them, and i had a solid rate of phone screens/interviews after submission despite not having a cover letter. if you are absolutely required to write one, do not have chatgpt do it for you. use a guide from a human being who knows what they are talking about, like ask a manager or betterup.

but i don't even know where to start!

i know it's hard, but you have to have a bit of entrepreneurial spirit here. google duckduckgo is your friend. don't pull any bean soup what-about-me-isms. if you truly don't know where to start, look for an ATS-optimized resume template.

a word about neurodivergence and job applications

i, like many of you, am autistic. i am intimately familiar with how painful it is to expend limited energy on this demoralizing task only to have your "reward" be an equally, if not more so, demoralizing work experience. i don't have a lot of advice for this beyond craft your worksona like you're making a d&d character (or a fursona or a sim or an OC or whatever made up blorbo generator you personally enjoy).

and, remember, while a lot of office work is really uncomfortable and involves stuff like "talking in meetings" and "answering the phone," these things are not an inherent risk. discomfort is not tantamount to danger, and we all have to do uncomfortable things in order to thrive. there are a lot of ways to do this and there is no one-size-fits-all answer. not everyone can mask for extended periods, so be your own judge of what you can or can't do.

i like to think of work as a drag show where i perform this other personality in exchange for money. it is much easier to do this than to fight tooth and nail to be unmasked at work, which can be a risk to your livelihood and peace of mind. i don't think it's a good thing that we have to mask at work, but it's an important survival skill.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ good luck ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆

[moeitsu]

♡The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee♡

(Arthur Morgan x OC) Masterlist

Hey cowboys!

Below is where you'll find all the chapters to my Red Dead Redemption fanfic, I will keep it updated as I continue to post more chapters. But in the meantime, I wanted to make things a little more organized and easier for you to navigate.

Whether you just started reading, or if you've been keeping up with the story since the beginning. I want to thank you! This started as a little side project to keep me busy during my down time at work, but it's turned into something I'm really passionate and proud of! So thank you for all the support <3

!!Please be aware this fic is explicit. As it contains blood/violence, as well as other adult themes!!

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

->-> Ao3 

->-> Wattpad

Summary: Kate McCanon, a young widow from the north, meets outlaw Arthur Morgan. When the two cross paths she discovers a complex man wrestling with his own sense of right and wrong. As their unlikely bond deepens, Kate becomes determined to guide Arthur towards a brighter path, even as tensions rise within his gang led by the enigmatic Dutch van der Linde. With danger lurking at every turn, Kate must navigate treacherous territory to protect those she holds dear, all while finding love in the most unexpected of places.

Story Tags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Ch 1 - The Years Creep Slowly By Kate becomes entangled in a heist with two strangers, Hosea and Arthur, forging an unexpected bond amidst their criminal endeavor. Ch 2 - The Snow Is On The Grass Again A fisher of men and A strange encounter. Ch 3 - The Suns Low Down The Sky Welcome to Horseshoe Overlook Ch 4 - The Frost Gleams Where The Flowers Have Been It's time to collect a debt. Ch 5 - My Heart Beats On As Warmly Now A well deserved hunt with Charles, met with an unexpected surprise back at camp... Ch 6 - As When The Summer Days Were Nigh The battle begins, and the past is revealed. Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back. Ch 8 - Or Down Affections Cloudless Sky A blissful sunny day after a long hard night. Ch 9 - A Hundred Months Have Passed Kate and Arthur share a tender moment in the quiet of the night. Ch 10 - Since Last I Held That Hand In Mine The Course of True Love and other Revelations Ch 11 - And Felt The Pulse Beat Fast Arthur and Hosea share meaningful conversation after a night of advertising some moonshine. Meanwhile Kate finds herself involved in a dubious mission with John and the boys. She patches up Arthur as the day ends with an air of unspoken desire. Ch 12 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 1 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God in a world that is ugly with violence and hate. Ch 13 - Though Mine Beat Faster Far Than Thine - Part 2 Arthur’s life is ebbing out like the tide. Kate must work quickly and diligently to reverse the cruel hands of fate. She is aided by the help of an unexpected ally. Ch 14 - A Hundred Months ‘Twas Flowery May As Kate navigates Arthur’s recovery, she discovers that true strength lies within her trusted companions, finding relief in their unwavering support during the trials of his healing journey. Ch 15 - When Up The Hilly Slope We Climbed Arthur struggles to adjust to his new disabilities. Meanwhile Kate finds a job outside of camp for them, providing a few days respite and some much needed alone time. Arthur finally reveals his feelings. Ch 16 - The Past Is The Eternal Past Kate and Arthur welcome a new life into the world. The scene brings back tender memories of Arthur's past, he finally finds the courage to open up to her about his family. Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of The Day Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again. Ch 18 - To Hear the Distant Church Bells Chime The gang finds a new hideout at Shady Belle, just outside the heart of the new modern America. With Jack still missing, Kate and Arthur must work together to find him. Amidst the tension, Arthur confides in Kate about his deepest regrets. Ch 19 - We Loved Each Other Then The Gilded Cage. Kate and Arthur attend an exclusive garden party hosted by the Mayor of Saint Denis. As the night progresses, their mutual desire intensifies. Ch 20 - More Than We Dared To Tell In vulnerability they meet. As the world fades to a gentle hum, their hearts beat as if they're one. In the aftermath, quiet and deep. Love whispers promises they'll keep. Ch 21 - What We Might Have Been As tensions within the camp simmer and new challenges surface, the gang finds themselves slipping further into uncertainty. Amid the chaos, Kate and Arthur navigate the weight of their individual struggles, leaning on their bond to weather the storm and hold onto what matters most. Ch 22 - Had But Our Loving Prospered Well As Dutch readies the gang for their next big score, Arthur is sent to Saint Denis to settle unfinished business, only to face a ghost from his past. Meanwhile, Kate's come down with an illness, but a vivid dream sparks a newfound resolve to secure her and Arthur's future—no matter the cost.

Ch 23 - To Call Up Their Shadowy Forms In a chaotic, adrenaline-fueled poker game, Arthur and Kate find themselves ensnared in the deadly consequences of their choices during a fine night of debauchery. Ch 24 - The Story of That Past Tension runs high as Arthur grapples with the weight of impossible choices, his loyalty to the gang tested against his growing desperation to protect Kate. Meanwhile, Kate endures her own silent battle, caught between the chilling reality of her imprisonment and the lingering hope that Arthur will not abandon her. Ch 25 - The Hope That Could Not Last The time of outlaws and gunslingers is coming to an end. Arthur risks everything in a dangerous gamble to free Kate from the law. While the weight of the world threatens to crush him, Kate’s unwavering hope burns brighter than ever. Ch 26 - I Care Not To Repeat Arthur’s unexpected act of kindness sets the stage for a fragile alliance between two men shaped by loss and loyalty. Upon returning to camp, they must work quickly to prepare for yet another journey. Ch 27 - Words of Mine Long Years Ago The journey to Annesburg is steeped in silence as tension brews. Arthur wrestles with his emotions and fights a losing battle to shield Kate from the oppressive weight of his sins. Ch 28 - I Would Not Cause Her One Regret Under the tender care of Wapiti's medicine woman, Kate receives life-changing news that will forever alter the course of her and Arthur's future. In the midst, she uncovers a gift left by Hosea, something that will carry them through the journey ahead.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━ If you're interested in reading about my OC, I linked the Kate McCanon Lore here :) As well as her Face and Voice Claim <3

Spotify Playlist About me!

[mossdoesartshit]

Little note before we get into it, i did this AGES ago but im still really proud of it, so i thought i would post it while i work on the next sinner adam stuff, and kinda also segway to the fact that i REALLY like the idea of heaven in hazbin hotel.

no joke, i have like. maybe 3 ocs that are sinners or demons, and the rest are some variation of angel JIGNFDOIJN, there was a really popular set of designs for a lot of archangels floating around and instead i made my own versions. same with the design of god. oopsies, teehee JINGDFIJN.

(new sinner adam stuff soon i promise)(im like one panel away from having it done)(done rambling now enjoy the post and enjoy the art)

------

oh how it burns. oh how my body burns. grant me mercy please, i beg. o' father, could we not come to an understanding? o'father please, i was so excited for the big day soon, the coming of age. o' father, i beg yee change this now. i know i plead for nothing, that you wont hear my cries, but please atleast take pity on me, thine son. o' father i beg, allow me to meet my brother soon

is this what you meant when you told me that stars burn the brightest when theyre dying? in their own final moments? is this what you meant? is this why you dub us "morning star"? not for hope, but for despair, is that what you meant for all these years?

father i pleade, i beg, save me, father please, it hurts so much father, i am burning as you watch, i am in pain, please father, i'll pray like your creations do, please, pleasE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, PLEASE FATHER. IT HURTS. I DONT WANT TO LEAVE MY FAMILY BEHIND. PLEASE.

FATHER!!!!-

[rev-wrath]

Dropping by your inbox to ramble about my OCs (cause, the tag function lets me somewhat keep track of what I've written about them when I rb this from you) bc they're my blorbos that not many people know about.

So, as I've said before, it's a story mainly revolving around a god (Ares), a human (Genesis), and an angel (Samzaya). Basically, Gen moves to live her life as a lighthouse keeper (even though the job is mostly done by machines in modern times. but divine intervention pulled her there) and on her first night, a terrible storm brings Ares and Samzaya into her 'new' home. Somehow, neither of them can leave.

Originally, I imagined Ares to show his face from the very beginning, but looking at lore/myths, I figured it would be better if his face was hidden. By a motorbike helmet or a veil of a kind (to shove in the fact that he's not human). Samzaya's an angel who has watched humanity from afar, but never interacted or was close to them. They're a type of angel called a Watcher and those types of angels were the first to fall in love with humans and produce nephilims. They don't know shit about humans, and Gen + Ares (the most human god, as I like to call him) have to teach them how to act around humans ('don't go in all divine light ablaze, don't talk in that staticky way, etc')

Gen is... She's human. But she's also kind of not? Her mother was a Korean shaman and her father Catholic priest but before he officially became one. But she's also blessed by Diwonuso (which really shouldn't happen, and it's related to the apocalypse)

As said, the first half of the story line I have for the trio is them developing a relationship with each other, and the other half is around the mish mash of pantheons forcing hunters/exorcists/deities from different beliefs banding together to stop the angels and demons from making their own pantheon the sole one in the world.

Oh yeah, the three of them also drop into Tartarus at one point, and this results in trauma for everyone!

Have some snippets (+ some random footnotes and comments) of a WIP I was working on like three months ago.

“Not really.” Her voice sounded off to her own ears. Maybe she was dissociating a little bit. “My family’s religion is Buddhism.” “Thou dost not feel of the essence of Buddha.” She flinched at the trilling, high pitched sound coming from the incomprehensible entity’s general area as well as the sensation of their words being slammed into her mind instead of her ears. “For the love of Hades- put on a form that wouldn’t hurt the mortal’s fragile body-” the man said a word that she didn’t quite understand. But she could tell that it was an insult from the way the man’s lips curled and the way he all but spat out the last word. The incomprehensible entity seemed to turn their gaze directly to where the man was sitting. “Watch thy tongue, pagan god, lest I deem it fit to rip it from thine mouth-”

The Fates were bullshit, and Ares[1] could not care less about the children of Nyx. He hated the fact that he was all but thrown into the middle of his uncle Poseidon’s domain. He hated that he was all but fished out of the ocean by the mortal and the angel. And he hated that out of all his fellow Olympians, he was the most intimately intertwined with the mortals. Not Aphrodite. Not Hestia. Not his mother or his father. Him. Maybe Dionysus[SK1] . But his half-brother was of mortal origin, so he didn’t really count. He was Ares, God of War. He had died a thousand deaths with the soldiers on the field. He will die a thousand more. Unlike Athena, who strategized and commanded, only fighting with mortals when she deemed it needed, he had always been there. Had felt spears and arrows and bullets pierce and end the lives of soldiers. Out of all the Olympians, his ichor was the most mingled with red. The moment the angel unleashed their warning, he was shrugging off the towel- it was in Athena’s colour- and he was lunging for the mortal who had been surprisingly unperturbed in the presence of a god and a servant of ‘the Lord’. He covered the mortal’s ears with his hands, and he couldn’t help but pause momentarily when he felt how soft she was. He had forgotten how soft mortals were. Had forgotten how fragile their body and soul was. [1]Epithet to note; Ares Gynaecothoenas, the god feasted by women. The women of Tegea in Arcadia defeated the invading Spartans to defend their city, capturing the Spartan king whilst they were at it. Whilst the depiction didn’t show Ares’ involvement and seems to focus on the ability that Marpessa showed to take initiative. The women later partook in a feast that only women were invited + to honour Ares. And babe, he was literally the patron god of the Amazons.  [SK1]Do I want him to be Zagreus too? He’s also Diwonuso… A god that was once mortal is such a tasty idea, no matter how many times I’ve seen it done. Maybe Gen could mimic it to a degree? She could be the immortal cursed with mortality… Cursed to reincarnate over and over and over again?

Have I told you lately you’re cool? Because you are. I love this so much. Absolute patchwork relationship with three different beings from three different backgrounds. The absolute care Ares has for Gen? Oh, I love it. Samzaya’s a “I am so far removed from humanity, I know much and so little at the same time” which is fantastic. I love them already and look forward to hearing what the fuck their apocalypse is all about.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

No One Is Alone (Into the Woods)

Hard to see the light now/Just don't let it go/Things will come out right now/We can make it so/Someone is on your side/No one is alone

People make mistakes/Holding to their own/Thinking they're alone/Honor their mistakes/Fight for their mistakes/Everybody makes/One another's terrible mistakes

"The idea that life is incredibly confusing, that it's hard to figure out who you can trust, to decide what's important to you and how to make those things real, but you don't have to do it by yourself. You're going to lose people, and sometimes you might even lose yourself, and sometimes your actions will have unintended consequences, but even in the midst of all that, no one is so hopeless that it's impossible for them to ever make a true human connection. Everything feels terrible and insurmountable, and it feels like nobody cares, but somebody does-somebody always will. No matter what happens, you have support. Somebody will be rooting for you and will be there to help you figure everything out and to love you. Genuinely every single time I try to sing this song I start crying, hell, I'm crying right now as I'm typing this."

"I listen to this song when I feel hopeless and alienated. And it has made me cry more than once."

The Mind Electric (ミラクルミュージカル Miracle Musical)

See how the serfs work the ground (See how they fall)/And they give it all they've got/And they give it all they've got/And you give it all you've got 'til your down/See how the brain plays around/And you fall inside a hole you couldn't see/And you fall inside a hole inside a-/Someone help me

Understand what’s going on inside my mind/Doctor, I can’t tell if I’m not me

Nuns commence incanting as the lightning strikes mine temples thus/Electrifying mine chambers wholly, scorching out thine sovereignty so/Spiralling down thy majesty, I beg of thee have mercy on me/I was just a boy, you see! I plead of thee, have sympathy for me!

"The lyrics just hit hard with all of the imagery and shit, being used alongside the song glitching and a 3 minute long sequence (an un-glitched version of the song) that plays backwards in full before the song begins, conjure up a very interesting view/idea/image of losing your sanity. Plus, the song has a really interesting history in terms of its creation."

"first listen: "damn its weird that this has itself backwards haha" second listen: ⚡️⚡️🧠SEE HOW THE BRAIN PLAYS AROUND🌩😈AND YOU FALL INSIDE A HOLE YOU COULDNT SEE☁️⚡️AND YOU FALL INSIDE A HOLE INSIDE A🤴🗣SOMEONE HELP ME⛈️🪐UNDERSTAND WHATS GOING ON INSIDE MY MIND🗣⚡️DOCTOR I CANT TELL IF IM NOT ME!!!🌩🌩☄️ anyway, there are actually 2 versions of this song !! since the first half of the song is the second half backwards, but one of the halves has a series of artistic glitches and repeats and skips! the "distorted version", which is what youll find on spotify, has the glitchy half played forwards, and the "nondistorted version", which is what the official channel posted on youtube, is reversed so the unglitched half plays forwards! its a remaster of a previous song Joe Hawley worked on as a member of Tally Hall called "Inside the Mind of Simon", and it has TONS of little easter eggs and details scattered throughout. distorted speech from old movies, clips from old songs, theres this part where chanting voices sing "axon, dendrite" and "help me" over and over which (imo) you really only hear if you know to look for them, theres an intricate synth arpeggio throughout the entire climax of the song that im in love with— its the source of the synth tune in the next song on the album, Labyrinth (the funny "i am the mouse" song)! i have yet to find a blorbo i cant picture to it but considering that my main oc's theme is madness, its her perfect chance to star. in conclusion, your honor, I love the mind electric."

"it's a story of a man getting sentenced to an asylum for a murder he didn't commit, and there he is subjected to electroshock therapy. the synth alone fucked me up the first time I heard it. not to mention the awesome lyrics and various styles throughout the song. oh also the first 3ish minutes of the song are in reverse. so there's that."

"Somehow I feel like it's the story of my life. Also, the first half of the song is the second half of the song played in reverse."

The Mind Electric submitted by @lesleyn +@omegasmileyface +@that-bi-fan + others

[thekinkyleopard]

Caught’cha

A Zilya x Tassian Canon Snz Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fic, Forced Induce, Dom/Sub, Bratty Sub,

Edging, slight CNC

Description: Tass has been invited to stay in the Vampire’s den. Zilya is trying to remain a good host, but they find the little Jackalope snooping in places he doesn’t belong, and something inside Z snaps.

Based loosely off a prompt by Mochisnz

Author’s Notes: oops another ship. Can you tell what inspired these two ? 🫠🫠🫠 It’s Baldur’s Gate. Ok. Zilya is a product of my unhinged addiction to the new RPG. I needed a vampire OC because god damn does my blood kink run deep. Anyway! I hope you guys love these two 🫠 @aller-geez owns Tass and did the art as usual!

In the night, crept a tall figure, pale salmon eyes scanning over the landscape as if it had a deadline to meet. They did. Zilya was on the hunt, starving after neglecting their thirst for an extra day. It was hard to go out and hunt between campers and nearby hikers. They often found the best times to hunt were the colder months, when people were less likely to be wandering their property. There was a scent, one they’d been trailing for a minute, stalking through the tall unkempt grass of their land.

Under the glowing moonlight, they stay silent as they crept through the brush, eventually the smell of irresistible crimson liquid was getting closer and closer. Then, they spotted them, horns in the distance. More than likely a young buck of sorts. Zilya licked their lips with anticipation, if they lucked out, it would be practically bursting with blood. Almost salivating at the opportunity, the vampire squatted down, keeping those diluted coral eyes locked on target.

Waiting a few moments, making sure the creature wouldn’t stir, Z leapt from position their hands immediately grasping hold of the velvety antlers that essentially was their target. They both collapsed to the ground in a struggle.

“Hey what the fuck?!” A voice cried out upon being tackled. Zilya, realizing sooner rather than later, they were gripping a…hybrid creature of sorts? They scrambled backward, eyes widened with shock.

“Thee…is no buck? What’s this?” Tilting their head with confusion, scanning the creature in front of them. Seemed human, but adorned long ears like a rabbit, and horns like that of a deer. Zilya was properly perplexed, having never heard or seen such a being.

“Yeah, no kidding, I’m a fucking person, you creep! Why’d you do that??” Brushing the dirt off his sleeves, and rear end from having been tackled into the ground, he narrowed his eyes sharply at the practically frozen being in front of him.

“If thee a person why does’t thou look like an animal?” Looking at the other up and down, his dialect threw the jackalope off but he instead crossed his arms over his chest and looked back at the other with a questionable expression.

“You sure ask a lot of questions for someone I don’t know,” throwing out a bit of attitude as a deflection from how absolutely terrified he felt inside. Who was this person? Why were they out here? Why were they manhandling deer at 1 in the morning?

“And thee sure aren’t keen to answering thy questions of thine owner to this property,” Standing straight again, Z also crossed their arms in reflective defense.

“W-what?” Blinking with surprise, it was news to him that anyone owned this hunk of junk land, he couldn’t even remember seeing a house nearby just an old abandoned creepy castle.

“This is my field, I own all 28 acres of this land around the Castle…what? Did thy think it was just free ??” Zilya scoffed at the other, rolling their eyes a bit at the audacity of this land intruder.

“Kinda yeah….well, my bad, I’ve been staying in a tent nearby I hope that’s….cool?” Scratching the back of his shoulder nervously, looking around for an easy escape INCASE the other wanted to turn violent upon learning of his squatting. Never letting his guard down.

“Cool? Thee sleeping outside?” Zilya raised a thin white brow, almost unnerved to hear that someone was just, sleeping outside in the grass.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal though right?” Tassian shrugged his shoulders, it hadn’t been the first time and it wouldn’t be his last, he was like a traveling nomad! Yeah! Not homeless, that sounded….well, pathetic.

“Well if thee need somewhere to sleep, and swear not to drive a stake through my chest…might I offer a stay in the castle til thee find other arrangements?” the tall figure spoke with elegance, almost high society with a slight accent.

“You’re the stranger offering me a place to stay, usually isn’t that the first warning sign that YOU’RE in fact gonna kill me? Also why a stake? That’s oddly specific…” he stepped back one single step, squinting his eyes again.

“Uh, no reason just a metaphor,” Z quickly recovered. If they told the man now, it was bound to scare him off and truthfully, it would be so nice to have company for once. “Zilya Fae, nice to make thy acquaintance,” sticking their hand out for a proper greeting.

“Tass,” the dark haired male responds apprehensively taking the other’s hand in his own. The strange being’s skin was cold to the touch, it caused Tass to shiver unexpectedly, pulling away he looked the other up and down.

“Okay….let me just grab my things and I guess you can just lead the way?” Already starting to walk in the direction of where he was camping out at. Z following close behind.

“Sounds swell, shall I help thou carry thine things? I do have some decently working hands,” they came across a small clearing of grass with a tent, and backpack set up in the middle. Tass walked over to it and began to deconstruct the tent, slipping the parts back into his bag. Rolling up the tarp, and clasping it to the bag it self via straps and buckles.

“No need, it’s all made to be carried in one heave,” Tass shrugged his shoulders simply, he had made sure his setup wasn’t too complicated, or risk losing things when having to leave in a hurry. Together the two walked in awkward silence before reaching the front of the castle, they stopped. Tass was feeling apprehensive, unsure of this decision with how darkened the area was. Clearly no electricity.

This place was strange, completely out the ordinary. Half of the large “abandoned” castle was dilapidated, crumbling at the seams, and the other half was almost unscathed. Possibly a fallen tree or bad storm had taken down the left hand side. Tass looks over at the tall, dark, looming presence in front of him. Does he accept the invitation into the other’s home? His down stretched pierced rabbit ears twitched with caution, it had been so long since he hadn’t slept on the ground….it might be nice.

“You’re sure you’re not going to rip my skin off and wear it like a Halloween costume later?” Raising a questioning brow, taking one step back, with the strange, almost grey skinned, being leering at him. Zilya couldn’t help but let out a genuine chortle of laughter. Almost unsettling how quickly, and exponentially the sound was that escaped them.

“Of course not…I don’t celebrate Halloween,” their attempt at a joke that only caused Tass to hesitate within the doorway as they were making their way in.

“Alright well….can I use the bathroom? It’d be nice to shower,” trying to brush past the awkwardness of the entire conversation, and situation, he figured he could at least get clean before settling into the scariest place he’d ever stepped foot in.

“Sure but, let me start up the broiler, least thee want a cold sho-…” already making their way toward the large hall before he was stopped with Tass’s sudden response.

“I do,” Zilya paused, he turned and looked at the Jackalope with a puzzled expression.

“Thy guest…wants a cold shower?” Nodding in response before they could finish the thought, Tassian interjected.

“Yes, I do,” repeating himself once again, orange eyes looking Zilya up and down for any more context clues of what kind of person he was up against. Truthfully, the Jackalope just didn’t want to burden the other more than he was, but also, couldn’t be left alone in this place nor have the courage to follow the stranger any further into the darkened domicile.

“If that is what thee so wish, I shan’t be the one to cease thine actions…do as thy will, please,” they nodded toward him now. Tassian thought this whole gentleman’s tone was strange, also probably full of shit but they hadn’t seemed to drop the act yet, so he couldn’t help but wonder if this really was just who they were.

“You’re a weird man….” Shaking his head slowly back and forth in bewilderment. He’d never met someone so, peculiar before.

“Oh, I am not a man, but thank you,” Zilya responded almost too casually. Tass couldn’t put his finger on it, there was something off about this person, and not how they identified, everything they were.

“You’re not?” Asking for clarification on what exactly he was confronted with.

“No, I do not identify neither male or female, I simply am Z, or Zilya, nothing more or less,” Tassian nodded with understanding, Zilya just seemed to intrigue him more and more by the minute they spoke. He’d never met someone who didn’t resonate with either male or female before. How interesting.

“Noted, alright then Z, you strange…being you,” floating his hands around like the other was made of magic or from another planet, which made the vampire’s lip turn up into a delighted smirk. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” setting his stuff lazily onto the ground, he rustled through it, picking out a pair of pajamas and his toiletries bag.

“Enjoy!” Neither of them acute enough to realize Tass had never been here before, and it was a relatively gigantic place to be inside of. Tass turned around and waltzed his way through the hall way. After a while of walking, Tass only started to realize, he’d forgotten directions.

He’d also, already made a few turns in hopes his instinct could find where he was going. It couldn’t. Well, he WAS inside a giant cool castle, why not explore then? Creeping around the halls silently the Jackalope turned a corner and noticed a very large stone chamber. “What’s this?” He wondered out loud, stepping through the intricately carved archway. Ivory vines and roses littered the surfaces of trim along the walls of the area, and one large black coffin that stood out, in the middle of the room. “…a coffin?” At first, Tass didn’t think much of it, maybe Z just slept in a coffin. The other was off putting, awkward and weirdly beautiful. It didn’t make sense, until it did.

“Mother fucker….didn’t invite me to be nice, they’re trying to eat me!” He stumbled back, but found himself hitting a wall. Or was it? Zilya quickly brought their hands up to his shoulders and gripped them tightly.

“This doesn’t look like the bathroom to me,” a much darker, and deeper voice than the one he’d met before, echoed from behind him. Tass froze immediately within the other’s grasp.

“I uh…I…you…” taken completely off guard he could speak, like the cat had gotten his tongue.

“I, uh, me? What?” They chuckled after mocking the stuttering jackalope. “That I’m a Vampire? Yes, I am, and thou also, snooping where thee don’t belong,” clicking their tongue with disapproval, there was one thing Zilya didn’t like, was those who couldn’t ask or mind their own. So much for secrecy.

“N-no! You didn’t tell me where t-to go!” Trying to excuse himself of blame. It was true, he didn’t know where to go, but also, there was an easier way to fix that problem besides venturing further into the unknown.

“Thou didn’t think to turn around and ask, hm?” Z turned their head to look up at them now, fingers gripping the prey’s chin tightly.

“I-…..got lost,” his legs buckled, this strange new aura, almost like he was conversing with a whole new person. Was this Z? Or was this the vampire? Were they one and the same? Or was he just manipulated?

“No, thee went SNOOPING,” snapping from their once calm and cool composure, their fingers curled inward as they clasped around the other’s delicate jaw, squeezing it with the intention of showing the other they could easily crush his jaw into dust. Though they wouldn’t. There were two sides of this creature, one they weren’t so proud of, and who they presented to be. They couldn’t control the rage, the bloodlust, the power.

“Get off my ass will you?” Trying to brush the incident off as an accident, and trying to appear tougher than he really was. Truthfully, it was a no big deal Oopsie poopsie moment, but Zilya wasn’t going to let it go. There were morals, principles one should stick by. Snooping someone’s home in the guise of not knowing better, as an adult, was crossing a line.

“No, you need to be punished,” Z stated firmly, towering over the slightly shaking Jackalope.

“W-?! PUNISHED?” What did they mean by that! Surely not….killing him right?

Without a word more, Zilya gripped the other’s throat tightly in their grasp, dragging him over to the coffin, shoveling the lid aside. It crashed to the floor with a loud “Bang” as Zilya crawled inside and forced the male into his lap.

“H- Hey!” Blushing profusely, his heart racing and his body reacting the opposite of which he thought it might be, ya know, being forcibly grabbed by a monster and what not. “Let go! St-stop! Don’t suck my blood!” Protesting loudly.

“Hah! Suck thy blood? I don’t need to do that to teach thee a lesson, please,” ridiculing the other for even suggesting such a low level way to show who’s in charge. “I have other ways of making thee squirm, hm?” With their free hand, Z pulled a single feather out from the inside of their jacket. The feather was black, sleek, that of a raven or crow. Tass watched as it slowly came to his face. “Now thy is going to count to ten, hm? Don’t fuck this up, or thee will start from the beginning,” they gently brushed the softened material against the other’s nose, already twitching and twisting to fight off the sensations it cursed him with.

“N-no! Stop it!” His face tickled, he tried to squirm and fight it but being trapped within Zilya’s grasp was unmatched. His nose already flexing and stretching against the feather.

“Count to 10 without exploding,” Z responded calmly, ignoring the other’s fussing and fighting as they dragged the feather across his ticklish flesh.

“Hnnn…n-no!” Swiping his face back and forth but only making his situation worse by helping the feather move across his nose to a faster pace. He could feel the walls of his nostrils filling up, that familiar itch in the back of his throat, the tingle of movement as it threatened to overflow.

“The faster thee cooperates, the sooner thy will be out of this predicament, now count,” the vampire commanded sternly, never letting up on their affairs. Eyes fixated on every twitch and jerk of Tass’s defiant nose.

“……O-One h-H…” it built up, Z continued to tenderly brush the feather underneath the smaller’s twittering nostrils. His breathe caught in his throat, and he swore it was going to be the end of him, but he had to hold up. He sniffed softly, trying his best to contain any mess from escaping down his face.

“Now two,” Z’s velvet like voice almost brought a sense of comfort now as it softened with each accomplished count. It was a double edged sword, while he hated it, he also found himself reacting positively, his mind frenzied with lust. Yet, he would die before admitting it. He continued to fight.

“T-..hAh-…Hi’—…Two…” he struggled against that one, the feather splitting and tickling upward the little hairs living inside those holes. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to make it.

“Three,” the other continued to encourage him through it, hand delicately wafting and swiping the feather over the very tip of Tassian’s struggling face. All the while, their whole body turned hot, enjoying the sight of this far more than he would have drinking the blood of some random animal tonight. No, he could hold off a few more hours so long as this could satiate something inside of him.

“Th— TS’GKNT!!!” There it went, decorating the vampire’s busy hand in glistening droplets of projectile saliva. Zilya swallowed the urge to moan by biting their lower lip.

“Start over,” clearing their throat, Z’s eyes narrowed, and that domineering attitude was back, almost impossible for Tassian to get a grip over.

“Pl-please…” he tried begging. He couldn’t do it, there would be no way to survive this. He snuffled loudly. “Sndf…”

“No, I didn’t ask thou to beg, I asked thee to count,” again, they were stern, the words harsh as they spoke them. Tass sighed, trying to catch his breath, before soon he found Zilya returning to their motions. It drifted over his nose, cheeks and chin, only for it to get dragged back up, and under his tormented, leaking nose across the top of his shuddering lip. A glimmer of moist sheen reflected off the edge of the feather now making them both aware that Tass was unable to keep up the act much longer.

“Nnnnh..O-One,” Tass tried once more, he would at least put his best foot forward.

“Good, now two,” Pressing him further, Zilya rapidly flittered the top of the softened object against Tassian’s nose, fast and uncalculated.

“Tw-………..” he paused, his breath caught and he hicked slightly before catching himself. His jaw slung open in response but quickly he snapped it shut and swallowed the feeling of it about to burst from within him. “Two,”

“Three,” impressed by the other’s will and strength to keep himself at bay, but Zilya was determined to get him to crack again. Their groin burning from want and need at the sight of him struggling against it.

“Thre-..three Hh’ih…” the sweet sound of each hitch and hick was only furtherly driving them mad, the silence between each one filled by their labored breaths.

“Aht don’t crash now, come on, four,” Pushing the other further down the rabbit hole.

“Fah….fahwr SNndf,” maybe if he could just inhale some of that ick that threatened to leak out, he could manage to get himself to the count of ten. A loud snort emitted as he tried to clear his sinuses, but only managing to stop himself from pouring out all over his own mouth. He was still determined, he could do it.

“Five,” Tassian heard the next number and then his resolve faulted, wavering in uncertainty that he could manage, because as the word fell off Zilya’s lips, the jackalope found his body trembling just trying to keep himself from erupting loudly.

“Fiiiiii-..ve..” struggling to get through it, he managed, releasing a breath that wasn’t almost a sigh of relief.

“Almost there, half way, come on,” Zilya was feeling prideful in between the carnal lust they were also feeling for the sneezing hybrid. Look how far he had come, just 5 more to go.

“S…sih’ S’ih…S’HI’TSCH!” So close but yet so far away as the jackalope felt crushed under the weight of his own inability to just hold it in. He sniffled loudly, rubbing the back of his nose with his hand trying to erase himself of this painfully ticklish predicament.

“You were so close….come on, start over,” Z clicked his tongue, shaking his head back and forth before commanding the other to continue.

“Please…I’ll give h’Hi..you anything…” the vampire laughed, fully, it boomed and bounced off the stone walls. The little jackalope just didn’t get it.

“This is what I want, to see thee suffer under the fate of my hands….watching thy face exhaust itself as I relentlessly tickle it…marvelous and delectable, the perfect punishment,” pink eyes seemed to shimmer with lust, almost mistakenly similar to how someone could look when they were starving. Was this really the same person he’d met outside?

“How?!” Tassian furrowed his brows, sick of the shenanigans and riddles.

“I’m a vampire, little one, I crave the power…” Z’s lips pulled into a cocky smirk, one that made Tassian a mix between extremely turned on, and outwardly annoyed.

“You’re si— H’GXNT!” Bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, this one came out unexpectedly, so half way through, Tass just tried to simply stifle it from happening, sick of the other having this type of control over him.

“Tsk tsk, don’t hold them back like that little one, you’ll only prolong your punishment, now get back to it…” their voice dropped and suddenly Z was incredibly serious once more. “One,” the word dripped off his tongue like a shard of ice.

“One..” Tass repeated without hesitation now, the sound of Zilya’s voice not giving him much an indication he could win the argument he wanted to start. Determined to best the vampire at his little game.

“Two”

“T-two,” the Jackalope continued to count along, orange eyes staring dangerously back into stone cold pink ones. His body shuddered involuntarily.

“Three,” Zilya continued.

“…….”he paused, Tass physically swallowing the saliva that built up under his tongue that was desperate to release. His sinuses so incredibly full from being played with.

“Three??” Zilya furrowed his brows, gaze darkening as he forced the feather to tickle the inside walls of Tassian’s nostrils, a line of snot embarrassingly trickling down his lip.

“Three….” His voice shook in response, half because he needed to sneeze so incredibly bad but also from trying to avoid consuming his ick. Zilya’s eyes fluttered, noticing the mess enough to grab at their own sleeve hem, and wipe the glistening substance clean for him.

“Four,” voice gentler as they started to coax the other through it. They also, wished to see the little Jackalope beat the odds. It was fun, was it not? They were having fun.

“F-f-Four…” Tassian closed his eyes momentarily, just trying to focus on the in and out motion of breathing deeply, hoping it would get him through the rest of this god forsaken punishment.

“Five,” Zilya noticed the other was powering through as much as he could manage, and that could only mean one thing for Z. Up the stakes. They needed to see more suffering, Z brought the hand that wasn’t busy tickling Tass’s nose, to his thigh. Gauging the other’s response before sliding upward with his slender fingers, gripping the area.

“F-Fih…ve….” Tassian’s breath became more unsteady as Zilya’s hand started to creep up his leg. A mixture of pleasure and discomfort now, shit, he’s gonna be so embarrassed when Z finds out how hard he is. He blushed, bright red.

“Six,” Z’s volume steady, consistent, while they reached, and unzipped the jackalope’s jeans. Soon after, Tass’s pants button was popped open and a cold hand slipped inside. He gasped.

“H-Hah…Si…x” he stuttered and whimpered, his eyes glazing and glossy as he struggled to get a hold of himself. His nose and throat tickled, burned and agitated his comfort, body writhing and wiggling beneath the hypnotic vampire. Why didn’t he just run? Simple. A fantasy come true, he never thought he’d have? No. Simply he wouldn’t allow the other to see him beg any further for mercy, lurching and twitching underneath the other. No, this was now a challenge between him and the beast. One he thought if he could win, would humiliate the vampire from ever trying to best him again.

“Seven,” Zilya’s silky tone caressed him, his palm gripping hold of Tassian’s hard, leaking length and began to pump inside the space of his boxers.

“S’heh’ven,” he almost lost it there, if he wasn’t concerned with how good Z’s hand felt on his cock, he might be able to push away the insistent urge of needing to sneeze. It wasn’t so lucky. He was faltering, bursting at the seams trying to keep himself steady. He just needed to get to ten. His eyes teared over, drops trickling down reddened cheeks.

“Eight,” Z’s movements turned fast, fingers squeezing tightly around the other’s throbbing shaft, slipping the pad of their thumb carelessly around Tassian’s tip.

“Ei—ght,” his eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately to focus through the force of the next two numbers. That was it. Just two. He could make it through two more numbers.

“Look at you, you’re almost there, ready?” Z praised the man for his resilience to get through it. Upping the ante, Z gently wafted a soft breeze of air from pursed lips, allowing in a cooling sensation to stiffen, Tass’s numbing nostrils. This was the edge needed to get those sensations back. All the while being stroked and edged.

“H’ah!!” Tassian almost forgot he was in the midst of a punishment, it felt so good. He hadn’t been touched in a very long time, and something about the forcefulness of this creature only made his cheeks hotter. He was losing. In a matter of minutes he went from determined to putty in the creature’s hands.

“Not yet, hold it back…Nine,” Zilya commanded, their own voice turning strained as they had to fight the gnawing desires to swallow the jackalope hole, or at the very least pierce his fangs into the flesh of his softened neck and have many different ways with him.

“Nih….Nine….” Almost there, then he would be rewarded, yes? For being so good, for being so brave?

“Goooood boy…now Ten,” the long drawn out praise, like music to Tassian’s red tipped ears. His body shuddered, his glistening maw open wide. There was no chance of catching even a single atom of oxygen through his stuffed up nostrils. Who was this? Who had he become? The pleasure was too great.

“T-t…Hi’h…TEN—K’TSCHIEW!!” He almost completed his mission, almost reached a perfect ten, but the feather assault proved to be too much as it teased and tickled him. Out shot a loud sneeze in place of a cry for pleasure, his body shaking violently. He spritzed the vampire across their face, whom could only roll their eyes in lust as they felt the cooling sensation across their flesh and watched the other release all their pent up energy. Zilya squeezed their palm tighter around Tassian’s now leaking member.

“Ohhhh, y’know? I’ll give thee that…thou at least made it to ten, before breaking apart,” Z chuckled with a toss of their head, hand never ceasing to please the little hybrid. Bodies smushed up tight within the space of the coffin.

“Hnn..hah~” he moaned with labored breath, it wafted across Zilya’s intently watching features.

“Does that feel good?” Licking their lips predatorily, yet with a softened tone of voice. His eyes glancing swiftly between the other’s face and bare open neck. It wasn’t something they could help, just pure instinct, but they fought it back.

“S-so…hah~ good…” Tassian peaked open with those gorgeous orange orbs and Zilya almost felt themselves soften, almost. The instinctive animal inside of them, burned hotter.

“Good…” watching the other get closer and closer to the brink of losing it before, right there, Z could see it. Swoop, just at the moment Tass thought he could blow his load. Zilya had stopped all motions and allowed the other to suffer at the loss of a much needed and long awaited orgasm.

“H-hey! Wa-wait! You can’t just….” Suddenly cut off.

“This was a punishment, remember? Thee wish to cum? Then earn thine reward with good behavior,” Zilya smirked, confident, smug. That fucking bastard.

“Good behavior? Earn it? You asshole!” Shoving the other away from him, trying his best to scramble out of the coffin. “No! I will do no such thing… I don’t need a reward from you!” Sticking his tongue out and clasping his hands at his hips.

“We shall see then, won’t we?” Z sat against the edge of the coffin, confidently licking the tips of his wet fingers, tasting the jackalope on his tongue, pink orbs watched the other carefully.

At a stand still, the two stared each other down, Tassian blushed profusely watching the other sip his pre cum off their hands. Neither of them moving from position. “So….I can stay here still right?”

“Would thee still like to? I am a monster, after all,” raising his brow in an almost challenging response.

“I never—“ cut off again.

“You didn’t have to,” Zilya almost looked hurt, looking to the side. This was why they didn’t say anything at first, about being a vampire. People always thought the worst of them immediately and never truthfully gave them a chance.

“Look, so long as you don’t go sucking my body dry of all its nutrients, I don’t care that you’re a vampire, okay?” Tassian clasped his arms across his chest, hip hooked with a hint of attitude. How dare the other think that he was immediately judging him!….well…he kind of did. It was fair. His demeanor softened. “And no more using that shit…” pointing aggressively to the feather. “Against me!”

“I can promise I won’t drink thine blood…..without thy permission…..but the other request? Denied, I’ll punish thee as seen fit,” winking at the other with a cheeky resolve. Tass rolled his eyes but couldn’t help feel his heart skip a beat with excitement. What on earth was happening to him? Was he seriously crushing on a creature of the night? This was a new low, even for him, but he might as well get settled with it. If he was to be staying with him after all.

To be continued….?

Author’s Notes: OOOOOOOO towards the end I decided I was gonna make a second to this. 🫨🫨🫨 so stayed tuned for that eventually. I have so much stuff I have to accomplish and post, I’m very behind but enjoy this of our new babies! 🫨🥰 @aller-geez owns Tassian and did the art!

[naraeragon]

[Mihawk x Reader/OC] The strongest swordsman who was raised by a witch

Reader is my witch OC - Yidhra. I have been making arts about them and this is my fanfic for them. This mostly based on 'The witch and the kid' trend

Tags: mentor Reader, pupil Mihawk, witch Reader, old English pronoun, horticulture, BB x shota, slight horror

-----------------

Mihawk was 10 when he ran away from his home without much grief and frustration. He was abnormally calm for a young child and was able to live on his own as long as he could until he stumbled into the witch's wood. He was taken shelter inside a cave from the heavy rain, then the witch found him.

She could have penalised him for intruding her forest, Mihawk knew she would by the look on her face, and people rumored that witches always kidnapped and feasted on children. Mihawk would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid of her but he knew well not to show it. After all, he had been surviving until now with some tricks under his sleeves.

To his surprise, the witch just asked if he wanted to stay at her place. It came with a price of course.

“ I shall be thy mentor and caretaker. Thou may learn as much as thee want until thou reach thy adulthood and leave. ” The witch offered.

There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch, was the first lesson Mihawk's learnt so instead of accepting the witch’s offer immediately, he asked.

“What do I have to pay?”

The witch seemed pleased with his sharp mind, not many children of his age are well aware of danger around them. Or perhaps any child who had suffered illed fate would develop that level of caution.

“Thou shall know until the time comes. Agree or not, the choice is thine.”

Even though Mihawk seemed to be more mature than other children of his age, there was no possible way he could survive alone without getting his hands dirty. He wouldn’t mind, yes, but if he had a choice to live a better life, he would definitely take it. In the end, he was just a mere child.

“I’ll follow you, mentor. My name is Dracule Mihawk.”

He thought maybe living with a witch couldn’t be worse than being a slave.

“I am Yidhra. I am a witch. Remember, thou art forbidden to speak of mi name to other individuals.”

Mihawk was adopted by a witch when he was 10 years old.

----------

[kaworusbetterthanme]

@artbyaffinno's OCs Charis and Sam for the Gallery Noir server's 2023 VtM art exchange!

[a-headless-angel]

Redamancy - Zestial X Angel!OC

Chapter Eighteen: Misunderstanding

Word Count: 6,170

*********************************************************

The dining room of Carmilla's residence was bathed in the soft, golden glow of candlelight, its flickering flames casting shadows that danced playfully across the ornately carved walls. Amidst the array of delicacies on the dining table, was a steaming pot of sancocho, as Carmilla called it, a dish of rich, hearty stew that took center stage. Its fragrant steam swirled upwards, carrying with it the mouthwatering scents of slow-cooked meats, vibrant vegetables, and a blend of spices that hinted at the depth of flavor within. The aroma was warm and inviting, a comforting contrast to the chill of Zestial’s usual surroundings.

Each mouthful of the stew seemed to embody a warmth and richness that transcended mere sustenance, offering a taste of something deeply nurturing. The dish, with its robust flavors and comforting essence, brought an unexpected sense of home and belonging to Zestial.

Zestial sat at the head of the table. His lime green eyes glowed softly, reflecting the candlelight as he listened intently to the lively conversation around him. Despite his imposing presence, his manner was relaxed, his usual formal demeanor softened by the warmth of the late evening.

Carmilla sat across and presided over the table with an air of graceful authority. She watched her daughters with a tender smile, clearly enjoying their company and the relaxed mood.

Odette had just finished recounting a particularly amusing incident. Her red-tinted glasses reflected the light as she spoke, her tone measured but laced with a subtle amusement. “And just as we were about to finalize the deal, this customer—oh, you wouldn’t believe it—tried to claim that the weapons were defective.”

Clara, her cream curls bouncing slightly as she spoke, added with a smirk, “He insisted that our top-quality blades were rusted, and then tried to haggle us down to half the price. Can you imagine?”

Carmilla chuckled, her black lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “And how did you handle this… impertinent fellow?”

Odette’s eyes twinkled with mischievous satisfaction. “Well, Clara here decided that a demonstration was in order. She took out one of the supposedly ‘defective’ blades and sliced through a thick steel chain with it—right there in front of him.”

Clara shrugged nonchalantly. “The look on his face was priceless. He went from trying to cheat us to practically groveling for the same deal he’d initially rejected.”

Zestial’s lips curved into an amused smile. “And did this… lesson prove effective?”

Odette nodded, her expression one of satisfied triumph. “Oh, indeed. He paid up without further argument. And he even threw in a tip for good measure.”

“T seems Odette and Clara are making quite the impression,” Zestial remarked, his tone rich with approval. “A most satisfactory result, I do declare.”

Carmilla’s eyes softened as she looked at her daughters. “You two never cease to amaze me. Your professionalism and ingenuity are truly commendable.”

Clara, with a playful glint in her eyes, leaned forward. “Well, if anyone’s deserving of a commendation, it’s you, mom. You’re the one who taught us how to handle ourselves in these matters. We’ve just perfected your techniques.”

Zestial chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “"Thou hast clearly absorbed her teachings and made them thine own. Beholding thy progress is a testament to how far thou have all come."

Carmilla’s smile deepened, her eyes tracing the empty dishes on the table before settling on Zestial with genuine appreciation. “Those early days were indeed fraught with obstacles,” she admitted, “But the progress we’ve made and the strength of our family now made every challenge worthwhile. Your guidance was pivotal to our success, Zestial.”

Zestial inclined his head graciously, his lime green eyes softening with appreciation. “It hath been a privilege to witness thy progress and the strength of thy bond. Thou have all become a family in the truest sense, and that is a reward beyond measure."

Carmilla, her dark eyes twinkling with gratitude as she observed her family and their esteemed guest, glanced around the table. The plates were nearly cleared and she placed her fork down and folded her hands gracefully in her lap.

“It appears that everyone has enjoyed the meal,” Carmilla remarked, her voice imbued with a warm, maternal tone. “I trust the sancocho met with your approval, Zestial?”

Zestial offered her a genuine smile, his lime-green eyes reflecting the candlelight. “Indeed, Carmilla. The dish was a revelation—both comforting and delightful.”

Clara and Odette exchanged a glance, the corners of their lips lifting in silent agreement with Zestial’s praise. Their mother’s cooking always held a special place in their hearts, and it was clear from their expressions that tonight’s feast had lived up to its reputation.

Carmilla rose from her seat with a fluid grace, her dress rustling softly as she moved. “I am pleased to hear it,” she said. “It is a small token of my appreciation, and many more to come, for the company and the continued support you have provided us.”

Carmilla’s eyes then sparkled with a hint of mischief as she rose from her seat. “But before we conclude our evening, I have a special treat that I recently acquired,” she announced, her voice carrying a playful note.

Clara and Odette’s expressions brightened immediately, their curiosity piqued. They leaned forward, eager to see what their mother had brought.

Zestial’s eyes brightened with curiosity as he inclined his head. “I’m intrigued, Carmilla. I look forward to savoring whatever special delight thou hast acquired.”

With a flourish, Carmilla returned to the table, cradling a bowl of exquisite candies and a bottle of fine wine. 

Carmilla placed the bowl on the table with a flourish, revealing the candies within. Each piece was a marvel of confectionery artistry, glistening with a mesmerizing array of colors. The candies were encased in delicate, translucent wrappers that sparkled under the candlelight, casting a kaleidoscope of hues across the table.

Some were shaped like intricate flowers, their petals dusted with a fine shimmer of edible gold. Others resembled crystalline fruits, their surfaces catching the light and reflecting it in prismatic splendor. There were also candies shaped like delicate, twisted ribbons, each one marbled with swirling patterns of vibrant blues, purples, and pinks.

And the wine, rich and deep, was a complement to the delicacies.

“Behold, a selection of rare confections!” Carmilla declared. 

Odette’s eyes widened as she reached for a candy, examining it with an appreciative nod. “These are exquisite, mom. Where did you find such a thing?”

Carmilla smirked, a hint of pride in her voice. “A secret acquisition, of course. I have my sources. One must indulge in the rarest of pleasures now and then.”

Zestial watched with subtle amusement as Clara and Odette enjoyed the candies, their delight clear. He knew that such treats were rare in Hell, often due to the rare ingredients, like sugar, or intricate processes required to make them. Observing their enjoyment, he was reminded of Celeste. The rarity of these sweets seemed to mirror the elusive quality of Celeste—a rare gem in a world where such things are hard to come by.

The scent of the candies, faint and intoxicating, drifted through the air like a whisper of forgotten enchantments. It spoke of distant, unreachable realms, of pleasures that danced just out of reach, evoking a sense of longing and wonder.  

Zestial’s thoughts were interrupted by Carmilla’s voice, breaking through his reverie. “I see you both are thoroughly captivated. I trust you will find these as delightful as the rest of the evening’s offerings?”

Clara and Odette exchanged grateful glances before Clara spoke up, “Thank you, mom. These candies are beyond anything we've ever tasted.” 

Odette nodded in agreement, her excitement evident. “Yes, they’re truly exquisite. We appreciate you thinking of us.”

Carmilla’s gaze softened with maternal affection as she looked at her daughters. “I’ve seen how hard you both work, and it’s only right that you get to enjoy something special. I’m so proud of all that you do and grateful for your dedication in the business.”

Turning her attention to Zestial, Carmilla noticed he had yet to sample any of the confections. “Zestial, would you care for one?”

Zestial’s gaze lingered on the bowl of shimmering candies, the allure of their rarity both captivating and faintly unsettling. He was cautious, not wishing to be stirred by more memories or emotions tied to their elusive charm. “I appreciate the offer,” he said, his voice measured, “but I believe I shall forego the sweets for now. A glass of wine would be more fitting.”

Carmilla’s eyes sparkled with understanding as she poured a glass of wine for Zestial and herself. “As you wish.”

Clara and Odette, finishing their exploration of the candies, stood and stretched with a shared sense of purpose. Clara stretched her arms, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Mom, we’ve been rehearsing our lines and dances for an upcoming play at the Orpheum. We could use some help with the choreography. Would you be able to assist us tonight?”

A wave of nostalgia swept over Zestial. His thoughts drifted back to a time long past, to his mortal life when the world was rich with the artistry of Shakespearean plays. It was during those days that he had fostered a profound love for theatre—a passion that persisted even into his demonic existence. This love had driven him to open the Orpheum, a grand edifice that now stood as the finest theatre in Hell.

However, in his current guise, Zestial remained an anonymous benefactor of the theatre, shrouded in secrecy due to his status as overlord. He had remained in the shadows, allowing his creation to flourish under the guise of anonymity.

As he had gotten to know Carmilla, he had been struck by her deep love for ballet, and the fact that she had named her daughters, Clara and Odette, after iconic ballet protagonists only deepened his admiration. Moved by this connection, Zestial had encouraged Carmilla to allow her daughters to showcase their skills at the Orpheum. This gesture was more than a mere act of support; it was a transformation of the theatre into a vibrant hub for both dramatic plays and exquisite ballets, blending the old with the new and providing a platform for young talent to shine.

Odette, her glasses catching the candlelight, nodded enthusiastically. “It would be wonderful if you could join us for practice. Perhaps Zestial could offer some insights for improvisation?”

Zestial’s eyes sparkled with a touch of amusement as he addressed Clara and Odette. “It seems the stage doth call for its most dedicated performers. Rest assured, I shall do my utmost to aid with thy lines. As for the dancing, I shall leave that to the more agile feet.”

Carmilla smiled warmly at her daughters before turning to Zestial. “I’d be happy to help, my dears. We’ll join you soon. For now, I’d like to have a moment with Zestial.”

With a sip of his wine, savoring its rich flavor, Zestial followed Carmilla as they made their way to a high balcony overlooking the studio, where Clara and Odette entered to start their rehearsal.

The studio below was a marvel of elegance, its walls lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors that caught every graceful movement. The wooden floor gleamed under the soft light of chandeliers, and the room’s expansive space seemed to stretch endlessly, perfect for the dancers' pirouettes and leaps. The high balcony where Zestial and Carmilla now stood offered a panoramic view of this stage, creating a serene distance between them and the bustling activity below. 

Carmilla took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting a mixture of warmth and nostalgia as she looked at Zestial. “Zestial, I’ve been thinking about the reassurance you gave me after that disastrous meeting, and I just want to express my deepest gratitude for all you’ve done for me and my daughters. You’ve been a true ally, and your support has been invaluable. I must admit, when I first met you, I was terrified.”

Zestial’s thoughts drifted back to that fateful night. He recalled how, amid the chaos of the extermination, he had moved through the shadows, offering fleeting safety to the desperate. Most souls accepted his offers without a second thought, driven by sheer fear. 

Amid the turmoil, a piercing cry had cut through the din, compelling him to investigate. He followed the sound and discovered a heavily pregnant Carmilla, wracked with pain, alone and vulnerable.

Zestial approached her, his presence and offer both terrified and reassured her. Despite the agony she was enduring, Carmilla had looked at him with a mixture of fear and assessment. Most souls accepted his offer of temporary refuge without hesitation, but she had paused, her gaze sharp even in her distress.

When she finally took his hand, Zestial felt an unexpected pang of empathy, a gesture of unusual compassion that marked the beginning of their complex relationship.

Zestial chuckled softly, a touch of amusement in his eyes as he took a slip of his wine. “Ah, Carmilla, it is quite understandable. One’s first impression of me is often rather... formidable.”

Carmilla took a sip of her wine, her gaze steady on Zestial, reflecting a mix of sincerity and warmth as she continued, “But presence has been a pillar of support for us, Zestial. I’ve seen how your dedication goes beyond mere friendship. It's clear that your sentiments for me are deeper.”

Zestial, caught off guard, nearly choked on his wine. The revelation was unexpected, shaking his composure. He had long suspected that Carmilla might never acknowledge his affections, and her admission was both surprising and disarming.

After regaining his composure, Zestial said with a reflective sigh, “Tis true, Carmilla. Yet I have ever been cautious not to overstep the bounds of our relationship. I feared to risk disturbing the balance we have established."

Carmilla’s eyes softened further, her expression a blend of appreciation and regret. “I admire your restraint, Zestial. It truly speaks to your character. But I must be honest: while I deeply respect and value you… the feeling is not mutual."

The words hit Zestial like a quiet storm.

He had always suspected that Carmilla might not share his affections, but he had allowed himself a glimmer of hope, driven by the warmth and depth of their connection.

The confirmation of his long-held doubts stung more than he had anticipated. The truth had always been a shadow at the edge of his hopes, and now, hearing it articulated with such honesty and grace, it felt like a quiet but undeniable impact. 

Carmilla, sensing the weight of Zestial’s internal struggle, spoke with a reassuring tone, “I want you to understand, Zestial, that while my sentiments may not align with yours, my gratitude is profound. Your support has been a beacon in my life, showing me that not all men are monsters. You’ve proven that kindness and integrity exist, even in the darkest corners of Hell.”

Carmilla's eyes glistened with a sadness that spoke of deep, unspoken memories. 

Zestial, despite the rejection, was respectful of the sensitivity of her emotions, and he felt a familiar urge to offer comfort. Recalling the comfort he had shown her during their previous encounter, he extended his clawed hand with careful grace. It was the same reassuring warmth he had offered before, a silent promise of support and understanding in the midst of her vulnerability.

Carmilla looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, and the faint touch of his gesture bridged the final gap between them. 

“I respect thy choice, Carmilla,” Zestial said, his voice steady and sincere. “I wish thee to know how much I value what thou and thy daughters have brought into my life. Thou have made a greater impact on me than I ever anticipated."

Carmilla’s curiosity was piqued. “How so?”

Zestial’s expression turned introspective. “Before meeting thee and thy family, I was entrenched in the shadows of Hell, solely engrossed in my own power and dominion. Yet, through aiding thee in thy trials, I have come to perceive things anew. ’Tis shifted my view of both this realm and my place therein."

Carmilla seemed relieved by his candidness. “Thank you, Zestial. For everything.” 

The studio below buzzed with Clara and Odette’s rehearsal as Zestial and Carmilla lingered on the balcony. Their movements flowed gracefully, a blend of discipline and artistry that reflected their dedication. The mirrors lining the walls captured every pirouette and leap, showcasing their skill and commitment.

Zestial now leaned slightly on the railing, his gaze contemplative as he watched the rehearsal unfold below. "Moments such as these," he said quietly, "remind us of what truly matters, especially in a place like Hell. Despite the chaos and darkness surrounding us, all our deeds are for their sake. We wish to grant them a chance to rise above the errors of our past and carve a better path amid these harsh conditions."

Carmilla, standing beside him, looked out at her daughters with a mixture of pride and melancholy. “Yes,” she agreed softly, her voice tinged with sorrow, “I only wish I could have helped her too…”

Zestial sensed the weight behind Carmilla’s words and the sadness in her eyes. It was clear she was referring to Velvette, who had once been close to her—a girl Carmilla had hoped to guide and support. He recalled Carmilla’s genuine affection and high hopes for Velvette, as she reminded her of her own daughters, her desire to offer her a better future in Hell.

But Velvette’s ambitions had taken a different path. Instead of embracing Carmilla’s guidance, she had allied herself with Vox and Valentino, betraying Carmilla’s trust. The memory of Velvette’s betrayal, aligning herself with those Carmilla despised, was a painful reminder of the consequences of failed expectations.

And the true reason why Zestial maintained his composure at the overlord meeting. His calm demeanor was not just for show; it was driven by a deeper purpose. He had kept his cool to shield Carmilla from further humiliation and to protect her from the emotional fallout of Velvette’s betrayal. His restraint was a silent act of support, aimed at sparing Carmilla from additional distress in a moment when she needed his solidarity the most.

Carmilla took a deep sip of her wine, her frustration evident as a vein throbbed at her temple. “That girl,” she said, her voice trembling with anger, “had the audacity to walk into that meeting with such disrespect… She spat on everything I tried to offer her…”

Zestial cut in gently, “We can only offer our aid to those who are willing to receive it. Velvette’s choices will, in time, come to bear upon her. We should not permit her errors to overshadow what truly matters,” he said, as he gestured at Clara and Odette.

As Clara and Odette’s rehearsal continued below, the music softening to a close, Carmilla’s anger began to dissipate. She took a deep breath, her gaze lingering on her daughters. “You’re right,” she said, her voice softening, “I have more important matters to focus on now.”

Together, they watched in quiet companionship, each finding solace in the shared vision of a brighter future for Clara and Odette.

As Carmilla took her leave to join her daughters, Zestial stood alone on the balcony, the distant hum of the studio below faded, leaving him with his thoughts. Zestial took another sip of his wine, savoring the last of its rich, velvety taste before setting the glass aside. The wine had been a pleasant companion throughout their conversation, its complex flavor both soothing and stimulating. 

The revelation that Carmilla did not return his affection had been a sobering moment. 

What he had once mistaken for romantic longing was, in reality, a deep sense of kinship and respect—a recognition of kindred spirits rather than a romantic pursuit. His grasp of these emotions had been muddled. In his mortal life, and throughout his existence in Hell as an overlord, the concepts of genuine affection and familial bonds had been foreign, leaving him to navigate these feelings with uncertainty.

With this clarity, Zestial now felt a sense of liberation. His connection with Carmilla was not the romantic bond he had hoped for, but rather a profound, familial one. This realization allowed him to acknowledge his true sentiments, which were now directed towards Celeste.

Her presence resonated with him in a way that transcended mere admiration or friendship. It was not just her rarity that drew him, but the profound depth of her mysterious essence that seemed to mirror his own desires and needs. Her aura carried a purity and complexity that spoke to the very core of his being, evoking a sense of connection that felt intense.

He wondered if Celeste could possibly feel the same way. 

The thought now stirred a mix of anticipation and uncertainty within him. He had never before experienced a connection so profound, and the possibility that Celeste might share his sentiments both exhilarated and intimidated him. Could she recognize the same sentiments he felt? Would she understand the depth of his emotions and see beyond the surface of his formidable presence?

He knew there was much he still didn’t understand about Celeste. Her presence was an intriguing mystery, and he was eager to learn more about her. The idea of helping her uncover her past was not just a way to get closer, but to discover whether her heart aligned with his own. 

*********************************************************

—Present—

Zestial’s world froze as Celeste pressed her lips onto his. 

Even after leaving Carmilla's residence, his mind had been consumed by thoughts of Celeste. He found himself restless, seeking solace in more wine at his sanctum, but it did little to quench his agitation. Desperate for clarity, he decided to take a walk through the city, hoping the twilight air might clear his thoughts.

The city, eerily quiet at that late hour, was still fraught with danger. For most, wandering these streets at night was risky; for Zestial, his mere presence deterred all formidable predators. As he walked, the shadows seemed to pulse with his unease. Despite the city’s ominous silence, his mind remained fixed on Celeste.

The ever present smell of brimstone and sulfur in the air forced him to go Celeste’s residence, even though it was well past the appropriate visitation time. Her aroma, tinged with her sweet fragrance, had become an irresistible lure. He longed to be in her presence again, to bask in the soothing essence that seemed to comfort his own restless thoughts and desires.

To his surprise, as he approached her window, he found it empty. A wave of bewilderment and worry swept over him. He continued his anxious trek through the city, now on edge, his senses alert to every sound and movement.

Then, amidst the familiar stench of brimstone, he caught a whiff of Celeste’s sweet fragrance, and his mind raced. Hidden in the shadows, he saw her in scandalous attire, surrounded by a predatory demons. One of them lay on the ground, writhing in pain, clearly having failed in an attack. The sight of her vulnerability and the demons' profanities ignited a fury within him.

The scene was a brutal reminder when he had been attacked and outnumbered in his childhood. 

Driven by an overwhelming rage, Zestial unleashed his demonic powers with a savage force. A swirling, pitch-black cloud of shadow descended upon the assailants, thickened and coiled, enveloping them in a suffocating shroud of terror. Inside this malevolent mist, Zestial's wrath manifested in grotesque and horrific ways.

The demons’ screams erupted from within the darkness, sharp and frantic, a mixture of agony that sliced through the screams. His dark energy lashed out with brutal intent, each surge of his force digging into their flesh with a horrifying, almost surgical precision. Limbs were wrenched from sockets, bones splintered into jagged shards, and skin stretched into grotesque, gaping wounds. The very essence of their forms was contorted into nightmarish shapes, their features distorted beyond recognition.

Zestial’s energy clawed and tore at them, a relentless assault of searing pain and disfiguring torment. Blood and viscera splattered across the blackened mist, their suffering palpable in the thick, acrid air. It was a brutal, unending cycle of mutilation and suffering that seemed to stretch into eternity. The demons’ forms were systematically deconstructed, their flesh peeling away in strips, their bones snapping like brittle twigs.

When the dark cloud finally dissipated, the screams ceased abruptly, replaced by an eerie, oppressive silence. The demons were gone, banished to an endless dimension of bleak void and ceaseless despair—a fate Zestial had inflicted upon many before. The air around him was thick with the acrid stench of sulfur and blood, the grim aftermath of his unrelenting fury.

As the smoke cleared, the scene shifted to an unsettling calm. Zestial, his anger still simmering, found Celeste standing there, visibly terrified. Her fear was palpable, cutting through the aftermath of the violent assault and starkly contrasting with the eerie quiet that now enveloped them.

When she sensed his presence and turned to face him, her fear seemed to wane. But before he could offer reassurance, she turned and fled, much to his surprise and irritation. In his urgency to keep her safe, he followed after her, but his attempt to protect her only seemed to escalate the situation.

Desperate to stop her from further danger, Zestial conjured his tendrils and captured her. In his haste and frustration, Zestial's tendrils wrapped around Celeste with an almost desperate urgency as he pinned her against a wall with unmeasured force. His claws, razor-sharp and unyielding, gripped her arms with a force that left her wincing. His intentions were muddled, driven by a tumult of emotions—protectiveness, anger, and a deep-seated worry that clouded his judgment for the first time in a while. 

From Zestial's perspective, the intensity of the moment was overwhelming. He drew closer to Celeste, his dark figure casting elongated, menacing shadows in the faint light of the streetlamp. He could see her fear reflected in her wide, terrified eyes as he clutched her arms, feeling the tremor of her panic beneath his grip.

“What’s your deal Zestial?” she yelled, trying to mask the tremor in her voice. 

In the intensity of the moment, Zestial's emotions got the better of him. He recalled his initial impulse to keep Celeste in his sanctum. In his mind, it seemed logical to ensure her safety within the confines of his own domain. Yet, in believing so, he had inadvertently revealed his intentions and the conflict within him. 

“My matter is that I’m beginning to believe granting thou freedom may have been a misjudgment,” Zestial’s voice rumbled, low and dripping with an echo that seemed to vibrate in the night air. 

The words felt like a chilling confession, each syllable steeped in a mixture of frustration and regret.

His green eyes bore into hers, their luminescence almost hypnotic against the dark backdrop. The stark contrast between his brooding presence and the harsh light made his features appear even more formidable. “Though mine day hath been occupied with… other concerns,” he continued, his voice softening slightly as his face drew nearer to her, “I still cannot cease to ponder upon thee, Celeste.”

The cryptic nature of his revelation only deepened Celeste’s confusion and fear. He felt her heart racing, as she attempted to mask her terror. 

Then, in an unexpected twist of fate, Celeste’s lips met his in a sudden motion. The sensation was electric, a shocking contrast to the intensity of the moment. His mind went blank, the surge of raw emotion freezing him in place. The contact, though fleeting, was a jolt that cut through his tumultuous thoughts like a sharp, unanticipated flash of light.

The immediate effect was palpable: his conjuring powers, previously vibrant and menacing, dissipated like smoke in the wind. The dark tendrils that had held Celeste vanished, leaving him bereft of his control. He let go of his grip and Celeste fell to the ground, the impact jarring her from the tumultuous moment.

Zestial stood, motionless and stunned, his complex emotions momentarily stilled by the unexpected kiss. The chaotic maelstrom within him was abruptly silenced, replaced by a profound, bewildering stillness. 

The brief contact tasted of Celeste’s own essence—like a hint of rich, velvety sweetness that seemed to blend the sharp tang of fine wine with the delicate, sugary notes of candy.  It was as if her very being had been distilled into that fleeting touch, a tantalizing blend of warmth and allure.

But as he took in the sight of Celeste, trembling on the floor, the warmth of the moment was eclipsed by a cold rush of regret. The terror in her eyes was a harsh reminder of the unintended fear he had caused, jolting him from his bewildered reverie.

But then Celeste closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. 

The act seemed to ripple through the air, casting away the lingering shadows of fear. In an instant, the terror in her eyes evaporated, replaced by a serene calmness that seemed to envelop her like a cloak. Slowly, she stood up with newfound composure.

The frightened, trembling figure he had seen moments before had vanished. Zestial could sense a profound spiritual fortitude within her. The shift in her aura was palpable, revealing a depth of strength and serenity that he did not anticipate. 

Zestial regarded Celeste carefully. “Thy spiritual strength is excellent,” he said, his voice a blend of careful admiration and bewilderment. “In mere seconds, thou hast qualled thy fear…” 

Celeste looked into his eyes and spoke. “It looks like the root of all this mess was a misunderstanding,” her voice steady but reflective. “In the heat of the aftermath of the attack, I didn’t react well. I panicked and ran, and I understand now that your intent was to protect me, not harm me. If you had meant ill will, you would have killed me by then.”

Zestial absorbed her words, a wave of relief washing over him. The weight of his own tumultuous emotions began to lift, replaced by a sense of calm. Her acknowledgment of his protective intent and the insight into her reaction eased the tension he had felt.

Celeste slightly hesitated, her cheeks flushing a soft pink as she searched for the right words. “I realize that my… actions might have caused you distress,” she said, her tone faltering as she stumbled over the final words. “I... I hope that, um…” Her voice trailed off, her face growing redder with each passing second.

Zestial’s relief was palpable, and an unexpected chuckle escaped him, surprising Celeste. "I am the one who should apologize," he said with a softening tone. "I thrust thee into an uncomfortable situation, driven by my own turmoil. I should have been more mindful and considerate."

As he replayed the moment of Celeste’s unexpected action, a thought tugged at the edge of his mind: If she had initiated such contact in an impulsive surge, does that mean—

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head back to my residence and die of shame,” she said with a weak, wry smile, her cheeks still red as she turned to leave.

Before she could retreat further, Zestial’s concern reasserted itself. “"I shall escort thee home.” he said firmly, stepping closer.

Celeste glanced around, her gaze catching the dim, shifting hues that marked the passage of time in the infernal realm. “Look,” she said, brushing off his concern, “it seems like the sky is starting to brighten a bit. I think I can—

However, in a sudden, dramatic twist, a loud, sharp rip echoed through the air. Celeste's eyes widened in alarm as her dress, strained and torn, began to unravel. Her face went pale as she reached for the tear, but before she could scream, Zestial acted swiftly. 

With a fluid motion, he shed his dark cloak and draped it around her, the fabric moving like a protective shield. His cloak enveloped her, concealing her and offering a moment of cover. 

Celeste’s initial panic melted into a mix of surprise and wry as she felt the warmth of his cloak enveloping her. She looked up at him, her face a shade darker from the ordeal. “Oh, what a gentleman you are... Now I really want to die… again.” Her tone was light but edged with the strain of the unexpected mishap. 

Zestial’s lips curled into a reassuring smile. “"I assure thee, I shall let nothing else go amiss this day. Let us see thee safely home."

Celeste, clutching the cloak around her like a lifeline, nodded gratefully. They began to walk together through the dim, shifting hues of Hell’s endless sky.

As they walked together, Zestial noticed Celeste glancing at him from time to time. Her gaze seemed particularly drawn to his back, where his bat-like wings, now exposed, were clearly visible.

Curiosity tinged her voice as she asked, “I didn’t expect you to have wings.”

Zestial’s eyes flickered with amusement. “I usually keep them concealed beneath my cloak. Not something I display about, truly."

Celeste tilted her head, now intrigued. “So, what exactly are you, Zestial?”

He chuckled softly. “"Well, it seems I am a bit of everything—demon, spider, vampire, the boogeyman. I’ve heard it all. Yet, truly, I believe I am but the embodiment of fear, a manifestation of my own making."

Celeste nodded thoughtfully. “I see.”

Then Zestial’s gaze shifted back to her, taking in the way his dark cloak draped around Celeste. The fabric swirled like a shadowy shield, obscuring the tattered remnants of her once-sensual attire beneath. 

With a sly grin and a raised eye, he said, "So, what precisely werest thou doing out here so late in this... unsavory part of the city? Pray, tell me thou hast not embarked upon a new vocation… as one of Hell’s more, shall we say, enterprising souls?"

Celeste’s face turned red again, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation at his insinuation. “Hey, don’t jump to conclusions!” she stammered, her voice flustered, “I was just helping out a friend at a lounge to pick up some extra cash. Unlike you, I’m not the middle manager of Hell, so I have to take whatever I can get, within reason of course. It’s not like I’ve joined the ranks of Hell’s... more entrepreneurial souls.”

 Zestial chuckled, catching Celeste off guard. “Entrepreneurial souls, indeed? That’s a charming way to phrase it,” he said, his grin widening. 

He couldn’t help but reflect on their first encounter, when he’d casually explained his role as an overlord in Hell with a mix of casual light-heartedness and wit. It gave him a peculiar sense of satisfaction to see her remember his offhanded remark from that conversation. 

As they continued their walk, the earlier tension seemed to dissipate like mist in the morning light, replaced by a comfortable silence that settled between them. The streets of Hell, with their usual sinister ambiance, now felt more like a backdrop to a tranquil stroll. Celeste, wrapped snugly in Zestial’s cloak, seemed at ease, and Zestial’s mood lightened as he walked beside her, their earlier discord fading into the background.

The quiet was punctuated only by the occasional distant crackle of Hell’s chaotic atmosphere. Zestial’s mind began to wander, an idea slowly forming amidst their conversation.

When they finally reached Celeste’s residence, Celeste turned to Zestial with a grateful smile. “Thanks for walking me home and for saving me. once again,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a mix of warmth and mischief. “And about this cloak…” She gave a playful, mock-serious glance at the dark fabric still draped around her. “I’ll make sure it gets returned in better shape. Unless, of course, you’d like to keep it as a memento of our little adventure.”

Zestial chuckled, a deep, genuine sound that resonated with amusement, I believe I shall manage quite well without it," he replied, his eyes dancing with mirth. "But regarding today’s little adventure…"

Celeste’s curiosity was immediately piqued. “Oh?” she asked, her tone curious as she tilted her head slightly.

Zestial’s expression grew thoughtful, as if weighing his words carefully. "Learning of thy financial situation hath given me an idea,” he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

Celeste’s interest was visibly heightened. “An idea?”

A sly grin spread across Zestial’s face, his gaze sharpening with mischief. “I was contemplating that thou might join me at thy workplace before it opens today."

Celeste remained still, though her concern was growing. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Zestial’s grin widened, revealing a glint of something almost roguish. “I intend to have a simple discourse with thy boss.”

Celeste’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait, what!” She took a step closer, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and concern. 

Zestial gave her a final fleeting, enigmatic smile before turning smoothly on his heel. “See you soon,” he said. 

At that, He left, leaving Celeste to grapple with his cryptic promise. 

*********************************************************

Thanks for reading!

Story available on AO3

Chapter Nineteen: Sooner or Later

[eilinelsghost]

10 First Lines

Thanks to @sallysavestheday for the tag to share the first lines of my last 10 fics and consider whether there are any patterns in the way I start things off:

It unnerved him each morning to be greeted by the same quick smile across the breakfasting table, to find that table laid with those same berries he knew from Nargothrond, the same fresh loaf and pitcher of spiced cream.  Seedlings 1 G: Bëor, Finarfin, & many others Technically this is the second line, but since it was part of the "give me a line and I'll write the rest" prompts, this is the first I wrote.

“There is a line of smoke to the north-east.” Darkly the Sundering Flood T: Finrod, Beren, Edrahil, OC

He is nearly weightless. An Anchor Incarnate G: Gelmir & Gwindor

Arafinwë knew the path without thought.  In Memory Beside You G: Finarfin & Bëor

The laugh rumbled through Finarfin’s bones.  Fight With Thine Own Hand T: Finarfin, Orodreth, Morgoth

Finrod’s dive cut through the surface, hardly leaving a splash as he slipped beneath Ivrin’s mere.  In These Holy Waters T: FInrod/Bëor

Once again, Finrod caught sight of him through the trees. And Still the Light Returns T: Finrod/Bëor, Belen, Gildor, others

I rise. Alone upon the crested brine A Bitter Wine G: Eärendil/Elwing A sonnet, so I wasn't quite sure whether the first line should be the first line or the first sentence, so I did the former and you all can choose for yourselves.

Anárion grew tired of pacing. Atanatárissë G: Anárion, Silmariën, Hiril, Andreth, Adanel, Belen, Bëor, Finrod

He looked a small, frail figure outlined beside the white crags of the shoreline. Little Lords of the Brine G: Finrod & Orodreth

So apparently I really like to start with short lines. Much like @sallysavestheday noted in hers, these are usually followed by and inseparable from a longer sentence that does much of the work.

Tagging @that-angry-noldo, @searchingforserendipity25, @outofangband, @swanmaids, and anyone else who thinks this sounds fun!

[yanoverload]

When i discovered your blog, i genuinely felt joy due to the wide variety of works you had here, both your own and others in... such as the anons OC, works from other authors and even your creations such as mono.

These fun reads bring delight into my life as it can be dull and really boring at times so I'd like to thank you. I may not reveal myself as I'd rather not be known but genuinely- I doth adore thine works...

Also I shall chew on crow!

-Tarkan the Loyal

Of sooth, mine dear Tarkan! All folk are welcome to show unto me their wondrous and crafty endeavours, for they be the sustenance that doth nourish me and keep me hale. I feel much honoured that thou dost find joy in mine work, which I do strive mightily to perfect. Alas, thou dost fall prey to the common folk's notions, and for this, I shall bring thee shame. SHAME!

[inposterumcumgaudio]

Uncle Jack & Foggy Jack

So if you're asking about both of them, I'm assuming that's because you're into the idea that they are one and the same.

I don't dislike the concept, but I like it much more for that the game seems to push that notion while simultaneously giving you nothing to substantiate it and, at times, even giving you details that seem to contradict it than the idea for its own sake. Good shit!

It's another one of those things you'll never have a canon answer for!

And frankly, I've never really found the question of whether Uncle Jack is Foggy Jack that interesting. It's a little contrived, a little obvious, a very basic bitch story. The most famous man in town has a mental breakdown and becomes a serial killer? And he somehow does this despite being instantly recognizable by everyone? And also he's doing this while he's still filming his show every day and looking all normal and shit?

Too, the whole Foggy Jack thing intrudes on the natural predisposition of fledging fanartists to make serial killer OC's.

Foggy Jack also exists as an urban legend in the town in a way I think predates even the toxic fog (and I was given a separate ask about this as well so I'll save my thots about that for then!)

But suffice to say, because I do not find the whole Uncle vs Foggy Jack thing compelling and I'd never really devoted much thought to it, I struggled to think of something interesting to say about it. The only chapter I ever wrote about the subject was actually about why Ollie's surface-level investigation of the crime scene in "A Pomaceous Puzzle" did not arrive at the correct conclusion. It simply doesn't fit the MO.

However... in reviewing what we know concretely about Foggy Jack from the main game, I actually did arrive at a fascinating new theory.

Because we think of this as a duality, do we not? Uncle Jack is one side of the coin, Foggy Jack the other. That's why you asked about both.

Let us go over what we know for sure about Foggy Jack, that was reported in the game, to separate out the unreliable information given in "Lightbearer". There are only two sources of "solid" information about Foggy Jack in the main game:

In "The "O" COURANT - Article 3", we learn that five Wellie women - Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, Mary Jane Kelly, and Mary Anne Nichols - have been found hacked to pieces in the streets. All of these women are named for real-life victims of Jack the Ripper.

Stated in the above and reiterated in "Interrogation Report", these murders seem to take place on particularly foggy nights. "Interrogation Report" also states that the witness, Daniel Dunglass, reported that the apparent murderer's face looked "oddly familiar" to him.

One further piece of information that we learn in Ollie's act is that Foggy Jack apparently kept a hideout in the Gardner House, at least until plague wastrels overtook it. We know this from the suitcase which contains a cleaver and the "Mystery Note" with the only the phrase "I'm afraid you've come to the end of your time" on it.

And here we learn that Foggy Jack has some interest in Margaret. And that makes sense if he's actually Uncle Jack.

But... what it's it's not a duality.

What if it's a triptych?

What if it's not Uncle Jack, but someone who would have us come to that conclusion? Someone who would want us to think Uncle Jack is avenging his murdered daughter, but is in fact trying to frame him for it?

Why, who would have motive to do that?

Who indeed.

But DJ, you say, that's crazy. You play through Ollie's entire act and not once do they ever imply that he could be Foggy Jack.

Yeah, well, there's a lot of stuff they don't imply through his act, ain't there?

And just like with Uncle Jack, the details don't say anything conclusive but consider.

Ollie is said multiple times over his act to have periods of lapsed memory, both due to the Oblivion he took and excessive drinking. Margaret mentions specifically in both "The Camp of Thine Enemies" and "Cache as Cache Can" that Ollie has trouble remembering things due to his drinking. And it's an interesting coincidence that Ollie also "vaguely remembers" leaving himself a cache of supplies in that quest and its the same sort of vague notion that leads him into Gardner House where he finds Foggy Jack's suitcase.

He's also in deep denial about the limits of his morality and how far he'll go to see traitors get theirs. Still, killing innocent women just to make Uncle Jack look bad? Surely not! Maybe Ollie ratted out a little girl and got her chased down and murdered, but he's not a serial killer!

Then again, if there's one thing Ollie hates, it's a collaborator. Deutschland Über Alles special and all. And you know who about the first people to start collaboratin' with an occupying force are?

Prostitutes.

All of Foggy Jack's not-hallucination victims are named for the "Canonical Five" of Jack the Ripper's victims, all known prostitutes. Which, sure, maybe that's just the reference, but we actually meet Elizabeth Stride before her apparent death. As Ollie. At the Jack O Bean Club, where she works as a cook serving a bunch of collaborationist traitor lovers. She has no love for them, calling them toffs and wankers as she does, but she does also muse aloud to herself about it: "Take the job, she says. You'll never have to suck another cock, she says." Which sounds an awful lot like a thing a (former?) prostitute would say, making it two separate issues to Ollie, really. And why else would a fine upstanding Wellette be out on the streets at night anyway? That's how Foggy Jack gets you!

And for my most tenuous point: remember that guy from the Interrogation Report? Daniel Dunglass. I looked his ass up and

Reminiscent!

Dunglass (the character, not the actual guy) also says that the murderer's face is "oddly familiar" to him. Uncle Jack is familiar, but not oddly so. Ollie isn't exactly a nobody in town, but he's definitely odd looking in a world that conformist.

And as long as we're drawing specious connections, Daniel Dunglass (the real guy, not the character) was a Scottish medium famous for levitation and speaking with the dead. You know who else does a lot of that?

But... even if Ollie is Foggy Jack, I don't think he killed the constables at the apple tree. Which means there's copycat killer pretending to be the guy who's pretending to be Uncle Jack pretending be urban legend Foggy Jack.