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dyns33 · 2 years

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Worst in life

It took me a week but I did a new Oberyn Martell story

There was probably worse in life than being the servant of a princess.

Well, there were capricious and evil princesses, but Lady Verna was not like that. She had her moods, of course, and she had to act a certain way in front of the other nobles, but most of the time she was kind enough to Y/N.

Her family wasn't always so friendly, King Gyllian had a certain reputation, like most of the rulers of Westeros, but he had never touched her, and most of the time he didn't even seem to notice her presence.

As a rule, nobles didn't pay attention to Y/N, or the other servants, except when they needed something, or were in a bad mood.

So it was a real surprise for her when she arrived at the capital, King's Landing, and one of the other Lannister guests, Prince Oberyn Martell, started circling her.

At first, Y/N thought he was just having fun, teasing her. A prince such as him probably liked to seduce, he could have whoever he wanted, and he was known to sleep with everyone, nobles as well as whores.

Then she thought he was trying to approach her mistress. Maybe he wanted to finally get married, although that seems unlikely. Or was he looking for leverage with King Gyllian.

Either way, Y/N did her best to ignore him, but the more she shunned him, the more the prince seemed attracted.

"What can I do for you, Prince Oberyn ?"

"Just Oberyn, little sun of the North."

"... Would you like to speak with Lady Verna ?"

"If I wanted to talk to her, I would talk to her, right ? I want to talk to you, and more, if you let me."

"I have to go see if my mistress needs me." Y/N stammered as she quickly left, feeling the gaze of the prince following her.

Normally, she should have been scared.

It was better to be wary of the nobility when you were nobody. But unexpectedly, despite the prince's strange and somewhat intrusive behaviour, Y/N felt she had nothing to fear from him. He could have ordered her to follow him to his room, or taken her by force, but he was gentle and quite respectful.

When another guest tried to touch her, Prince Oberyn immediately intervened, grabbing the man's arm.

"Apologize."

"... Excuse me, my prince."

"No. Not to me. Apologize to the Lady."

"Lady ? She's just a servant, she... AH !"

"I can break all your bones, one by one. Now be polite."

"Excuse me, my lady !"

"It won't happen again, will it ?"

"No! I swear, never again !"

Y/N watched the crying man, running away as far as she could, then she turned to the prince. She had never seen him so serious, but he seemed to regain his composure as he looked up at her, smiling fondly.

"Are you all right, little sun ?"

"Yes." she stammered. "Thank you."

"It's normal. No one has the right to talk to a Lady like that."

No one had ever considered her a lady. Often, she was not even seen as a human being, since she was only a servant. No one had ever defended her honour like the prince had.

Maybe he wasn't so terrible. Maybe he wasn't like the others.

But Y/N refrained from thinking that.

He could also pretend to be nice to abuse her credulity and slip into bed more easily. It didn't mean anything. The prince had a reputation after all. It was said that he never forced anyone, but that he never attached himself either. Except maybe to the mother of his eight daughters, but without ever proposing marriage to her either, nor fidelity.

Even if she couldn't imagine for a single second that he could ask for her hand, Y/N wasn't stupid, she didn't know if she wanted to be part of his conquests, whether it was for one night or more.

What if she got pregnant ? What if people found out ? Her Mistress, who had an obvious weakness for the Prince of Dorne. Although she had no name to defend, she had some proud.

But she felt alone. It was the first time someone looked at her like that, took so much interest in her, and it wasn't just anyone, he was a prince ! So charming, so caring. It might be a mistake to miss such a chance.

Unable to make a decision Y/N did not realize that time was passing and that Princess Verna's stay in the Capital was coming to an end. She would soon be saying goodbye, for although her mistress liked him, it was unlikely that King Gyllian would want to invite such a fickle prince into his kingdom.

The princess teased a little Y/N. Even if he didn't do it in front of her, she had noticed how he looked at her maid, how he talked to her, smiled at her, and touched her hair with his fingertips. But as long as nothing happened, she didn't seem too jealous.

It was certainly stupid since she didn't know him, that she would never see him again, and that he would certainly forget her very quickly after she was gone, turning his attention to a new conquest, but Y/N couldn't stop crying and while everyone was asleep, she found herself in front of the prince's door, not daring to knock. She felt ridiculous, still not knowing what she wanted.

As she was about to leave, the door opened, startling her.

Shirt open, revealing his torso, Prince Oberyn observed her, displaying his small smirk, leaning against the wall.

"Well well, my little sun of the North has come to brighten up my cold night."

"I... I..."

"Shh, I know why you're here, my sweet." he purred, caressing her cheek. "Don't be shy. Don't think too much. Come on. I'll take care of you, as you deserve. Like a Queen."

"No, that's not a good idea. You leave tomorrow, my prince, you..."

"Oberyn. My little sunshine, my beautiful Y/N. If you really don't want to, I won't force you. But don't think about tomorrow, dear heart. Think about now. Think about us, think about you."

Then Y/N thought of herself for once, of her happiness, of her desire, and she kissed Oberyn who responded immediately, taking her in his arms to draw her into the bedroom, towards the bed, starting to undress her.

The reputation of the prince was in no way exaggerated. He was really, really good, and not at all selfish, paying close attention to her, making sure she was comfortable, willing, and quivering with pleasure.

He whispered words of love to her, continuing to kiss her, as if he worshiped her. Maybe that was the only thing that bothered her, because Y/N knew he didn't mean it. It was the fire of passion talking, but tomorrow it would be over, it wouldn't mean anything.

It was no surprise when she woke up alone. Quickly and discreetly, she collected her things to return to the room of the princess, who was not yet up.

No one would ever know what had happened. Perfect. It would remain a beautiful memory, a sweet dream that lasted a whole night, to which she could think again when she felt alone.

After preparing her mistress's belongings for departure, and going to get her breakfast, Y/N began to collect the few things she had brought with her for the trip. Seeing her, the princess seemed surprised.

"What are you doing ?"

"We are leaving this afternoon, my Lady. I don't want to forget anything."

"Oh. Did I forget to tell you ? I thought he would have told you. You're no longer in my service, you're not coming home with me."

"... What ?" Y/N said, forgetting all propriety and dropping her clothes.

"Don't make that face. I'm not chasing you, you've been an excellent servant. I even hesitated a bit before letting you go, but the prince insisted so much, and he can be very persuasive. You must have notice that. Anyway, you're his now, you'll go to Dorne when he's done here. Lucky girl, don't thank me."

Oh, Y/N didn't feel like thanking her at all. She felt silly and humiliated for going to see Prince Oberyn last night, thinking it would be her one and only chance, when now she was workingfor him, she would see him every day, and he might laugh at her stupidity.

She ran off to the gardens, to hide her shame there. Forgetting that it was one of the favourite places of Prince Oberyn, who always took refuge there to not have to deal with politics. Of course, their paths crossed and when he saw that she was not well, he grabbed her arm.

"My sun, what's going on ?!"

"Leave me !"

"Did I hurt you yesterday ? Are you angry that I wasn't there this morning ? The King wanted to see me. I was disappointed when I came back to find a cold, empty bed. I was hoping we could spend the morning together, but I didn't want to disturb your sleep. You were so beautiful, so peaceful."

"You bought me." she sobbed, trying to walk away. "You played with me."

"Ah. My sweet Y/N, I wanted to surprise you. Yes, I bought you. But you are free. You can come with me, if you wish. I am sure you will love Dorne. You will love also my daughters and Ellaria. I told her about you in my letters, she already loves you very much, she dreams of meeting you. If you agree to come, you will be like a princess, and you can leave whenever you want. "

"... Are you serious ? Why ?"

"Why not ? I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I couldn't bear to see you treated like you were nothing. Maybe I can't give you a perfect life. I'm not going to lie to you, I don't care about marriage. I love my freedom. I love having lots of lovers. But I love you too. I want to cover you with kisses and gold, my little sun of the North. I want you to be admired as you deserved to be. Come with me."

Y/N didn't know what to answer, letting him kiss her hand, begging her again and again to accept his proposal.

There was probably worse in life than being the lover of a prince, especially a prince like Oberyn Martell.

She was still afraid of King Doran. She also feared Ellarian Sand and her eight daughters, even though he insisted that they would welcome her with open arms.

At the end, the King didn't even look at her, used to his brother's eccentricities, and not interfering in his private life for a long time.

His children were curious, looking at her with wide eyes and asking her lots of questions, but without any malice, seeing that she made their father happy, without separating him from their mother.

Ellaria looked her up and down, before nodding.

"You lied to me, love. She is much more beautiful and charming than what you described."

"You know I'm not good with words." Oberyn replied, taking her by the waist, before reaching out for Y/N to approach them.

If he had spoken of her in his letters, he hadn't written his paramour, no doubt to not frighten Y/N. If anyone was beautiful in this room, it was her, a beauty as haunting as she was frightening, and Y/N dared not move.

"A bit shy. Cautious, no doubt. Clever. Come on, lovely girl. I want to taste you, if you let me."

"She is very sweet, my little sun. My princess."

"Our princess." Ellaria purred, licking her lips, her eyes sparkling with desire and tenderness.

Yes, there was certainly worse in life, Y/N thought again, while following them.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x ellaria sand #oberyn martell x ellaria sand x reader

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wickedsick · 5 months

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Psychonauts Secret Santa 2023

@wonderlaneyart I'm your secret Santa this year! Sorry if it's a little short.

“This is going to be horrendous.”

Gloria sat behind a large black curtain, the only thing protecting her from what would surely be the worst flop of her entire acting career.

Nearby, Fred hovered nervously, wanting to help but unable to find the right words.

“...No?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Fred saw Napoleon looking at him with disdain.

“Non? You did this for a living and you say non?”

“Shut up,” Fred muttered under his breath. Turning back to Gloria, he tried again. “Look- e-even if it doesn't go to plan, it- it's going to be alright. There's no critics out there, nobody's going to- to do whatever mean people who don't like plays do. I don't know.”

Sitting down next to Gloria and adjusting his cape, he continued. “But, if you really don't want to do this, you don't have to. We can just show off Edgar’s props,” he said, gesturing to the backdrop and props of cardboard and black velvet Edgar had prepared.

“No-no, I can do this. I want to do this,” Gloria said, standing up.

“Gotcha. Well, I'll go raise the curtain then,” Fred said, running off to do just that.

Turning to face the thick curtain, Gloria felt the nerves that Fred had help calm get jumpy again.

I haven't been onstage in ages-

What if I've lost my talent-

Am I forcing everyone into this-

But then the curtain started to rise and she didn't have the time to think of those things.

It was time to act.

“The year is 1815,” Edgar narrated from behind the stage, flicking switches on his light board. “The month is May. The location is Blois, France. The weather is sunny. Our heroine sits in her study.”

The spotlight landed on Gloria.

“Ah, woe is me,” she said, “my husband, Napoleon, has been dethroned- and I know not yet what will happen to me, nor my son.” She gestured to a cardboard cutout of a small boy. “We were sent to this small village to escape the Sixth Coalition, but what are we to do now?”

As the light spread across the rest of the stage, Boyd entered, holding a prop letter. “Uh- madam, this arrived for you. It comes from Paris.”

As Gloria took the letter, she spared a quick glance to stage left, where Fred waited in the darkness.

“My dear Marie Louise,” Gloria read. As Fred’s spotlight flicked on, he began speaking with Gloria, writing the letter as she read it.

“I am writing you this letter to inform you that I have returned from exile. I have, with the support of my army and those fools who claimed to betray me to Louis XVIII, retaken my throne as Emperor, and removed the usurper who dared sit in my home.” Gloria stopped speaking, letting Fred lead. “Various countries- Britain, Russia, Austria, Prussia- have pledged large armies to destroy me, and yet it shall be I who destroy them.” Fred’s French accent was comically over-the-top; he said he did it to annoy his ancestor. “Soon, ai shall march to meet zese armees, ét drive between zem a wedge. Ai mak fair bélgium een déux month's time. Béfaire zén, ai invité you to rejoin me een paris. Yur 'usband and empairair…” Fred’s light shut off-

“Napoleon,” Gloria read. “Oh, what am I to do? It is three days’ travel to Paris, so I have almost sixty days to decide. Ally myself once again with Napoleon, or remain here in Blois?”

She turned to the cardboard cutout boy. “Ah, my son. The Treaty of Fontaine prevents you from inheriting your father’s lands, his titles- You, who were once the heir to the French Empire, the King of Rome- what would you wish? To remain the prince of Parma? Or to reunite with your father, for a chance to reclaim the titles you were bestowed at birth? Be it better to stand upon the cliff, safe, or to leap for the heavens, at risk of falling like did Icarus to far lower than you have ever been?” Gloria was proud of that monologue- she had written that part herself. Most of the script was Fred’s invention.

“What troubles you, milady?” Edgar came in from offstage, as Boyd took over the lights.

“A-ah! Count Niepperg! What brings you here?”

“Checking in on you. And your son,” Edgar said. “No doubt that madman did horrible things to you both back in Paris- but worry not! The Seventh Coalition shall deal with him.”

Gloria’s face and tone turned icy. “The first five Coalitions did not ‘deal with him’. Even the sixth only deterred him for a time. Why should this one be the one to succeed?”

Edgar stepped back. He was quite a good actor- managing to make himself look small, as the shadows made Gloria seem more regal. “Milady, I- if it will assuage your fears-”

“I do not fear Napoleon. I bear no ill will towards him, as I hope he bears none to me. However, while there are no fears to be assuaged, you have indeed helped me- by helping me make up my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“Napoleon has invited me to return to Paris. And now, I shall. I know not what will happen, with Napoleon or the Seventh Coalition, but I know the path I must walk.”

“Then I shall walk that path with you,” Edgar said. “May we both live to see the path’s end.”

As the curtain fell, the lighting changed to basic, warm light. With a deep exhale, Gloria stopped being Marie Louise and went back to just plain old Gloria. “How was that, everyone?” She asked, as Boyd and Edgar came out from behind the painted backdrop.

“I- I think that went pretty well,” Boyd said. “I mean, I only had one line, but I think I said the line well!”

“It’s your play, Gloria,” Fred said. “Do you think it went well?”

“Yes, I enjoyed it,” Gloria said, “But I don’t think I wanted it to be my play. I wanted to do it with you- so I do hope you all enjoyed it.”

“I liked painting the backdrop,” Edgar said. “I may have preferred to be the mailman, though.”

“I’d be good with being the- the Neeper guy,” Boyd offered.

“Niepperg,” Fred corrected. “Napoleon’s still muttering in my ear about that accent, but he says you made a great Marie Louise.”

“Oh, good,” Gloria said. “In that case, I say we take our bow.”

As the former inmates came out from behind the curtain, they looked out at the crowd- particularly, at row three, seat seven, where a kid in goggles sat, clapping louder than anyone.

As everyone worked together to take down the makeshift stage, Razputin came up to them.

“Hey, so- there’s no second act, so I was wondering what happened. Is this before or after the board game?”

“Before,” Fred said, chuckling. “Count Niepperg and Marie Louise went back to Paris, after which Napoleon left for the battle of Waterloo- which he lost. Ow!” Flinching, Fred turned back to Raz. “Yeah, he wanted me to say the game’s inaccurate. He actually lost because of the French Psychoseparatist Movement.”

“The huh?”

“A bunch of psychics who wanted to secede from the country and make their own little psycho-nation. A few of them attacked during the battle of Waterloo and messed up Napoleon’s back lines with a horde of bunnies.”

“Wait, bunnies?” Raz said.

“Yeah, some guy named Marcel Oleander controlled, like, three thousand bunnies to attack the French forces. Combined with a whole bunch of other stuff, they actually tilted the scales against Napoleon, and he ended up losing the battle.”

Raz looked deep in thought. “Huh.”

“They added some of that stuff in one of the expansions, but I always felt it messed with the game’s balance too much.”

#psychonautssecretsanta2023 #psychonauts #edgar teglee #gloria van gouton #fred bonaparte #boyd cooper

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crownedtargaryen · 1 year

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ribs. - aemond x reader x lucerys

longing.

MASTERLIST | ( < this story has more parts that cane found here) A/N: this chapter includes suggestive content, insinuating future sexual relation! aemond’s romance will spark around the wedding. Theirs is excruciating slow burn. TW: THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE INCEST, SEXUAL CONTENT, ANGST, ABUSIVE TOPICS, INSINUATION OF RAPE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, POST PARTUM. NOTES ARE APPRECIATED! (SHARES, LIKES, COMMENTS) word count: 1.1k taglist: @daenerysapologist @twizzy123 @hopelesswritergall

My sense of time melded onto itself; I was only informed of the days when my servants would remind me upon my request. Lucerys was to return today, my heart raced at the mere thought of it. Anger had been flowing between our letters since Aemond's threat. I had never thought a man would be full of so much rage toward someone, but I was content knowing my wed-to-be held the same frustrations as I.

Ellyn rushed into my room, making me jump from the comfort of my bed. Her eyes were wide as she panted.

"Prince Lucerys! He's almost here! He had been spotted!" She yells, my excitement showing on my expression, beaming with joy. I sprinted past my sister, rushing down the halls and bursting through the front doors of my castle. I ran as fast as I could, my heart racing and letting my feet carry me without a thought.

Then, I saw him. I stood still for a moment, eyes looking toward the sky. He was a light through the blackness, my excitement exploding within me. He spun in a circle on Arrax, upside down for a moment, then surfaced and headed towards the resting grounds of his dragon. I sprinted as fast as I could, once more, feet burning and growing sore. I watched eagerly, the clouds parting as Arrax split them with his wings. It was beautiful, but the rider was more stunning than the dragon.

I lost sight of him as he dove down, knowing he was surfacing. I ran and ran until I was at the entrance, bursting through the cave with an eagerness I never knew I had, my heart racing faster than Arrax. I saw him getting off the beast, my joy coming over me as I ran to him.

"Lucerys!" I screamed, giving him mere seconds to react as I barreled towards him, jumping into his arms and squeezing him tight. He lifts me from the surface, spinning me in a circle before setting me down and clasping my cheeks with his hands. Tears rolled, my words unable to escape my lips. He laughed with his entire heart, looking into my shimmering eyes. His dragon grumbled behind him, shaking off his saddle and laying on the ground lazily.

"(Y/N)," he whispers, his voice sending shivers up my spine. "(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)." He repeats helplessly, smiling his boyish and coy smile. "Your name is like tart, I missed saying it without taxing titles." His voice has moved to a murmur, my smile never leaving.

"I've waited for your return, Lucerys... It's felt like forever." It had only been weeks, but in those weeks he had grown taller. His muscles had been defined slightly, and a scar rested on his neck. I admired the childish features that hadn't left him, cupping his cheek and sighing. I wasn't sure what this feeling I felt toward my friend was, but it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I had never felt such an emotion; it scared me slightly. "Never let go, please." I felt pathetic saying such a phrase, but he never made me feel as if my statements were selfish. He held me as close as he could, forehead against mine, as he gave me gentle Eskimo kisses.

"I would never release you from my grasp, you're forever mine," he whispers, closing his eyes and his cheeks reddening.

"Swear it," I whisper helplessly, his eyes showing me all I need to know. I needed to hear him say it.

"Swear it?" He repeats, moving hair from my face and raising a brow flirtatiously.

"Please, Lucerys. Swear it to me that I am yours as you are mine. That you will never leave me." I speak helplessly, eyeing his features. The rain starts, pattering outside the cave. He chuckled softly, making my heart yearn for more of him.

"I swear it. On my entire being, on my family name, on the Iron Throne, on the gods themselves. I swear it." Lucerys' voice was breathy, craving. It sent goosebumps along my skin, our breathing intertwining. I whined softly, his hands caressing my sides. It went up, higher, and higher. A fire lit inside of me; I said no words. I just eyed his lips and swallowed hard.

"I want you," he whines, lips brushing mine. I felt like all the air had ripped from my lungs, cravings lurking inside of me I wasn't aware existed. "(Y/N) I want to see every dip and curve your figure has to offer. Please, let me explore." I felt like jelly beneath him, eyebrows furrowed.

"Lucerys, I-" I had started before hearing footsteps. We quickly separated, my mind dazed, and the boy next to me very disoriented, with a hardness under his tunic that was visible. I couldn't help but giggle, his eyes looking to me with a giddy little smile and a bite of his lip.

"Lucerys!" My father yelled cheerfully, opening his arms in faked excitement of his return. I looked at my father, then at Lucerys sympathetically. He plastered on an innocent smile, holding a hand for a handshake that broke into a side hug.

"Lord Borros, it's wonderful to see you again. How are things?" He asked kindly, my father looking at me for a moment. The room was tense, almost suffocating.

"It's been as well as it can be with four daughters," he dryly jokes. Lucerys lets out a pained and awkward chuckle. "Women are quite an emotional species. Especially your dearest." He signals to me, which my offense heightens and my anger lingers. I merely cross my arms and raise a brow.

"So, when shall the wedding festivities start? This is your first daughter to be wed, I assume the parties shall be held largely. Given, my mother will be there." He adds, the king's eyes widening. He swallows hard, and straightens his posture, avoiding eye contact now. I was less surprised; I assumed his mother or brother and his wife would show up, given the queen had made her way to Winterfell for Jacaerys' wedding.

"In a fortnight." My father eventually croaks out. I smiled at him, gingerly, holding Lucerys' hand and looking at him.

"I cannot wait," I coo, Lucerys' muscles loosening from their tense state and looking at me with passion. "Prince Lucerys is the man for me, I know it," I whispered this, a smile growing between me and my dear... Shall I even call him a friend? We hold more than friendship, at least I thought so. Does he feel the same way? Or was this an act? I was snapped from my trance as my father grabbed Lucerys, trying to get buddy-buddy with him. Lucerys looked at me apologetically as he was taken away. I mouthed one last word to him as he left.

"Later."

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luceirosdegolados · 1 month

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Marek, Mak to his friends, well he never thought much about Chayka. Not too much anyway; street kids, they're a dime a dozen, they come in various shapes and sizes, all a little dark under the eyes, some meaner than others, he knew from experience.

She was a grain under the wheel, human kid, perhaps too chirpy and cheerful for her own good. Got duped a couple times for being too trusting, but she still liked to trust. Never had the chance to learn music, but she still had the voice of a songbird.

And chatty, too chatty for Mak's liking that's for sure. Still, she knew how keep secrets like a tomb, and ran the Underduke's errands like the rest.

Mak took some time to teach her how to handle herself in a knife fight, even if she kept dreaming about studying magic.

Like that was ever going to happen.

And then, the elf. A tall fellow with long dark sideburns and even longer ears. Mak didn't know what to make of him, definitely seemed too old for his Chayka -8 years were just a blink for him and she was suddenly a young woman-, but hey, he was not her dad. Sure she was old enough to make her own decisions. Like dying bits of her hair the color of her eyes, piercing green. Like disappearing and reappearing with violet scars and sparks around the eyes.

Marek didn't know what to make of all that, but then again, it was none of his business. Street kids, they're a dime a dozen, and the ones that survive are bound to cut some corners.

But sometimes life throws you curveballs, doesn't it? You end up in a mindflayer ship, infected by some kind of disgusting worm, you crash through the planes, pick up some gorgeous company from the sandy beach you've landed on and then you find, out of the blue, that chirpy little street kid from almost 20 years ago, amidst the wreckage, trying to pull gods know what out a void vortex on a wall of rock.

"Chayka?"

"Mak!"

That little scare is enough; she turns so violently that a whole man comes through the purple whirlpool of magic. Whoever he is, he tries to speak, but Mak doesn't hear a word; Chayka is in his arms and has used the cant word for clan.

"What a shitty place to find you, kid." And he means it, he's sorry to hear that she's infected too, but he is also relieved. So relieved.

"Is that Wyll fucking Ravengard?"

It sure is. He vaguely remembered strutting around the fancier part of town, seizing up patriar houses to rob, when he saw the duke and his son make their way from wherever to who gives a fuck surrounded by flaming fist. Mak blended in with the shadows, and let a sigh of relief out when they were gone.

"I always thought he'd died," he admits.

Chayka smirks, "He's kinda cute."

He rolls his eyes, he reckons its a nice dream for an urchin, to be swept off her feet by a handsome prince of some sort, although he wonders if that sketchy elf fella from days past would have anything to say about it.

"Say Chayka, that fella with the sideburns you used to hang out with... he still around?"

Magic courses through her, eyes glowing bright. She smiles, charmingly confident, the picture of innocence, "He never left."

Marek understands.

Even so, when Mizora appears he has to ask again. What did you get yourself into and all that. The girl -the woman, he reminds himself, humans go about everything a little faster- has no good answers. She even says so herself.

"If I tell you he's different you would not believe me. If I tell you he's done right by me... he's not working for Zariel, at least."

Of course not. But it's not like fey are any more trustworthy than devils, though he reckons it could be worse, and it's not like he's her father or anything so who is he to judge? Is making a deal with the fey really worse than slitting someone's throat? Makes one wonder.

The bear was a surprise, but really it shouldn't have been, because they were looking for a druid after all, and because a man on a torture rack admitted so. A poor sight, that boy, beaten in all the wrong places. Shadowheart surprises even herself when she notes the goblin's clumsy work; pain without damage, without precision.

The bear is a surprise for Mak, but not so much for Chayka, who puts the goblin children to sleep before confronting their elders. An urchin is an urchin, Mak reasons, and goblin children have numbers for names.

It's not strange that the old man takes a shine to his Chayka immediately, after all, she was first to speak to him, animal form and all. What Marek was not expecting was for the street kid to be so fascinated by this agent of the wilds. Perhaps it's the fey pressence always over her shoulder. Perhaps he hasn't come to know her as he thinks.

When Halsin steps out of the portal holding Thaniel in his arms, Chayka is the first one to go to him. When Oliver wants to play, she sticks out her tongue at the druid's scowl. Even so, he comes back for more.

When they go to sleep, he is the second to last person she talks to. Mak is the last. They sit down, and he pours them a shot of whatever strong stuff they got lying around. They speak in cant to each other, brief sentences and simple gestures. Astarion scoffs and chuckles when he manages to overhear something.

Often now, he is glad that she's around. He would've let Shadowheart kill an angel if that's what she wanted, but he was glad that Chayka was there to ask her if that was really really what she wanted. Because, Hells, Mak didn't want to kill a fucking angel. But he would've, for Shadowheart. If that's what it took.

"I don't want to waste any more time," says she, with a resolve he hadn't seen until now, and then, her lip trembles, her eyes darting past him, "unless... is Chayka...?"

A shiver runs down his spine. It almost feels wrong to think about it, "Fuck. No, I... gods, I watched that kid grow up."

A sudden realization clashes onto another. Want, tenderness, friendship, even, fucking love. Twofold, unfurling, no, cascading.

He holds Shadowheart close to his chest, like a treasure, "You're It to me. You."

He would've killed an angel, if that's what it took.

The street kid is now a grown woman of 27, in actions and words. Mischievous to be sure, but perhaps that's part of the charm. The druid must see it, because he tags along with their little troupe, and Mak is pretty sure he can't take credit for it.

"He's too old for her," he complains one day, watching them speak.

Shadowheart's laughter fills the space, "You sound like concerned mother."

"Well it's not like she has one so..."

He startles himself. Shadowheart tuts.

"Halsin is a good sort. Let them figure it out."

She's right of course. Chayka is radiant, Halsin looks like a literal shadow has lifted from above him.

One day, Mak even sees Him, the elf with the long ears. A glimpse of him, really. A trail of laughter only as Chayka pulls them both out of view.

Halsin stands next to Mak, with a question at the tip of his tongue.

Mak brings a toothpick to his lips and pretends not to be nervous, "You know about 'im? The uh..."

"Patron, I believe is the common term, yes. Although I am not sure this bond is altogether that common."

"You're right about that. You wouldn't catch Wyll giggling with Mizora in a corner table like a pair of teens."

"Marek..."

Shit. Full name. Mak steels himself, "Huh?"

"Do you think-? Ah, never mind me. Chayka is a formidable woman, if she's content I..."

He trails off. Mak catches himself thinking that, to him, Chayka will always be that chatty little kid with no parents to speak of.

That's why he is a bit startled when she resurfaces, back from whatever hiding spot among the trees, 15 years older than his memories, grinning from ear to ear.

"Halsin," she begins, "Would you...? I'd like to introduce you to someone."

Introduce. A formal thing for a wild pair. Mak kicks himself. As far as trust goes, he's only gained a wicked grin from the dark corner of a dingy bar.

"Mak."

It's her, eyes still red, a trail of tears still fresh.

"Kid..."

"You'll come with me, right? To get Halsin back."

"No question, I'm with you, kid." To the hells. He will always be there for his prodigal, he thinks, he'll kill a demon for her. He's going to. If that's what it takes.

He'll kill the spawn of Baahl and anyone who stands in his way. For his urchin.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav

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acemapleeh · 2 years

Text

Rosa Centifolia, Chapter 1

Summary: Based off the story 'The Prince and the Pauper.' Alfred is a prince who must sacrifice his freedom for the sake of his people, and along the way meets Matthew, a man who looks strikingly similar to the young prince. Will this single meeting change the future of the kingdom or will it become a small trifle of the prince's life?

Characters: England, France, America, Canada, Scotland, Japan, Netherlands

Relationships: America/Japan, Netherlands/Canada, England/France

Word Count: 2904

Read on Ao3

Arthur paced the upstairs corridors endlessly, hands held in a firm grip behind his back. He’d been offered a seat at least a dozen times, a cup of tea nearly twice that. He politely declined each time with a wave of his hand. He hadn’t a clue how collected he looked to the servants, clearly not as much as he hoped if they all still hovered a little too closely. He brushed his fringe from his eyes for the umpteenth time. It was nearing sundown as he made his way onto the balcony that overlooked the sea. Taking in a deep breath of the salt air, he tried to relax his shoulders and put his mind at ease. He closed his eyes and listened to the waves crashing upon the rocks, the steady ebb and flow clearing his mind of worry. He only reopened his eyes when he heard a faint tapping on the glass paned door.

“Your Majesty.”

Francis, in all his frills, gave a flourished bow to which Arthur met with a nod of simple acknowledgment.

“Please, tell me the news is good.”

The man stood upright and pressed his forefinger to his bottom lip. Arthur waited impatiently for an answer, the slight hesitation was enough for him to know that all was not well. Something had gone amiss and Francis was mulling over the prettiest words he could use to describe whatever tragedy was likely upon them.

“I begin with the Queen is well. Her health is good, you needn’t worry about her a moment longer,” Francis’s voice was smooth as it always was. It was the kind of voice that sounded as if a portrait could speak. It set Arthur’s mind partially at ease.

“And the child?”

Something flashed in Francis’s eyes like he was caught unguarded by the most obvious question in the world. “Ah yes.” He took a step into the golden light. “You should be proud of her majesty, she has given you and the kingdom the gift of two sons.”

“Two sons...?” Arthur let out a breath, shoulders slumping quite visibly now. “Good heavens... there haven’t been twins in the family for generations.” He ran a gloved hand through his hair and blinked rapidly, turning to face the pinks and oranges of the setting sun. “Two boys, I can’t believe it... come. I must see them and give them proper names.” He turned back to face his most trusted companion and advisor, whose expression hardly reflected any of the joy and relief that had washed over Arthur upon finally receiving some good word.

“Forgive me, your majesty, but I’m afraid I’ve yet to tell you all there is to say.”

Arthur narrowed his gaze. “And what the hell do you mean by that? What is left to tell me? I wish to see my children and wife. I’ve been left without anything all day and my patience is running thin.”

Francis sighed, his half hooded eyes appearing more tired than Arthur’s ever seen. He placed a hand gently on the other’s shoulder. “One of the boys... he is not well mon cher. The one who was born first, you see, he came out very weak and silent. The nurses have been trying to get even one cry but nothing. They say the reason he was born alive at all was from the second son aiding him.”

Arthur felt his eyes burn and tried to blame it all on the way the sun was reflecting into his eyes from the glass before him. He swallowed and adjusted his posture, straight as an arrow. “Surely there is something that can be done. Medicine? Anything?”

Francis shook his head and Arthur stepped away. He rested his elbows on the balcony’s railing, hoping the waves would just drown out the sound of his anxiously pounding heart.

“Arthur... the suggestion I’m going to make, I only offer it to you as a friend.” His voice lowered and Arthur tensed. “This child, he will either die now, a few days from now, or live a life of absolute misery and anguish, likely to find himself bedridden at best. Who are we to condemn him to that sort of life? Is that even a life at all?”

Francis strode closer, the soft oranges of his vest and cream of his blouse seeming to match the heavens above. Arthur caught the scent of lilies, a funeral flower; it made his stomach churn. The fate of his son, his baby son, who he had yet to even see, yet to give a name or hold in his arms, hung so delicately. A string of fate that was akin to a thread that was expected to hoist the sails of the mainmast and keep her afloat in the most turbulent sea. Arthur, in his years of the king, had made many choices, many that others did not agree with and cost the lives of his subjects. He wasn’t proud of every decision he made but he had time to weigh options, to find solutions to lessen the damage of harder times.

“The boy...” Francis continued, drawling his words carefully. “Could it even be said that he is human? There is a chance... that he is a changeling. Perhaps the Good People were not too keen on the mine projects we began in the east?”

The fae were old beings in his country that had been believed in almost since its birth. There were stories he was told as a young boy like everyone else, of what magic they possessed and what they were capable of. No one knew for certain if they were real but no one dared to try anything that would anger them. Arthur must have tested their patience too far.

“So what do you suggest?”

Francis answered quickly. “Offer him back in the woods not far from here. Perhaps, they will give your real son back and if they don’t,” He shrugged his shoulders. “You likely saved the boy from suffering and you still have another who, I predict, will grow to be quite strong- one who will bring pride and prosperity to the kingdom once the time comes.”

Arthur drummed his fingers over the cold stone and bit his lip. “What does the queen know?”

“Nothing. She fell asleep moments after giving birth. We can tell her whatever needs to be said.”

The hand was back on his shoulder and it was steadying. The summer evening was warm but his stomach felt like ice, his chest tight. “Please, my friend, take care of the child. I trust the right thing will be done.”

Francis offered one more low bow, the golden curls of his hair catching the last of the afternoon’s light as though he were blessed by the angels. “It is, with a heavy heart, that I shall lessen this burden, your majesty. I promise I will see to this boy.”

“Go. I want this taken care of.” Arthur’s voice was sharp. He wished a stiff drink would be offered to him. “I’m giving you ten minutes.”

“As you wish.”

Arthur took those minutes and longer to compose himself. He didn’t watch Francis leave or comment on the kiss that was left on his jaw before he parted. It would do no good showing up to the bed-chamber in a drunken state so he finally accepted one of the servant’s offering of a warm cup of herbal tea. It soothed him well enough, enough to pretend there wasn’t a trace of guilt beginning to bore its way into his chest.

The sun had set fully now and the bed-chamber was cast in candle’s glow. Arthur first saw to his wife, who smiled tiredly at his kisses and warm embrace. “My love, I’m so sorry, the nurse told me everything.”

Her eyes were red and puffy but she still smiled and brought him in for another kiss. “I have grieved long enough my dear. We should be grateful to have one healthy child.” She sighed, swallowing any more sobs that threatened to come out. “The first was not even born with life. There was nothing we could have done.” They felt like rehearsed lines, like they were told to her again and again until she remembered them word for word. “Meet your son, I’ve been waiting for you so we can name him. He’s been a fussy, impatient little thing.”

Arthur’s attention finally went to the cradle beside the bed. There, wrapped in silver and blue, the colors of his home, was the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on. He hesitantly went to lift the babe in his arms, thinking, how could something this small and light, burn such a blazing light in his life. He felt his eyes water as babbles of joy left the tiny thing; arms reached high and sought after comfort and love. Arthur rested his hand against the soft tufts of blonde hair while the other he allowed the child to experimentally cling onto. As he leaned to kiss the baby’s crown, there was the scent of rosewater. He had already been blessed like every newborn predicted to take the throne.

His fate was sealed.

“Alfred,” he said after a long moment of trying to clear his throat properly to speak. “Alfred Fairfax. Yes, yes, I think that name suits him perfectly well. For the king who began our kingdom, now to one who will be strong all the same.”

~~~...~~~

The announcement of the child’s birth must have been declared for even out in the woods on the outskirts of the city, Francis could hear the song of church bells followed shortly by the whistling and explosions of fireworks. They illuminated the man on his horse and the still, quiet baby wrapped in a sling at his front. He scoffed and clicked his tongue, digging his heel into his steed’s sides for them to continue on. The thing was still alive, breathing evenly and whimpering and Francis was grateful the sound of the hooves against the forest floor deafened that tedious noise.

Having one heir would be simple enough to manage but two? There would be too many variables that could easily ruin any plans that he had been carefully putting in place.

Not even alive in the world for a day, the kingdom would likely celebrate the entire first week of July of that baby’s existence. There would be songs for him, poems and paintings, and everything his heart desired.

How unfortunate for the real firstborn who would never know what his life could have been.

Not that Francis would allow that other boy to enjoy his status for long.

At last, he lifted his lantern higher on a hollowed-out tree that many have sought after in hopes of being blessed with a real child. Francis dismounted and gazed inside, the bottom of the hole was lined with tattered remains of cloth and dirt. Yes, a perfectly suitable hole that saved everyone the effort of having to dig a grave. How grateful he was, at the moment, that this country believed in stupid, old curses and fairytales.

He removed the boy from the blanket and placed him inside, tucking him far inside to be completely captured in the darkness. As promised, the child was taken care of.

If Francis hurried, he could return back to the palace and at least enjoy the festivities while they lasted. He rolled his eyes as his horse began to trot away, the child finally let out a cry, be it, a little too late.

His fate had been sealed.

~~~...~~~

The celebrations had startled a lonely woodsman and his dog. They had just started settling in for the evening when the distant chimes of bells echoed throughout the forest. At first, he worried war was declared or some other tragedy had struck his home then, he saw the glowing embers of a firework lighting up the night sky. ‘Damn royals’, he scoffed to himself. Though his mind had calmed, the same could not be said to the pup who was still barking fiercely. Alistair sighed, about to open the door to their little hut so the two could actually get some sleep when another burst of light filled the sky. He was unable to calm poor Barclay from running out into the trees. He shouted at him to come back but ultimately knew he would have to go chasing after him.

After relighting his light, he was back in the familiar woodland where he spent his day-to-day life. Forward and onward he went and even when the sounds of celebration grew fainter, Barclay seemed to have keened in on something. He had stopped running and had his nose pressed firmly on the dirt trail. Alistair knelt to get a better look. Hoofprints, fresh ones at that. Hardly anyone came out this way; it wasn’t the main road that lead to and from the central part of the kingdom.

He couldn’t see anyone out either, nor could he hear a horse. It was peculiar but certainly not concerning. The day had been long and he wanted nothing but his bed but the pup’s ears were perked up.

Alistair petted his back gently and listened to the woods. “What is it, hm?” He could hear the leaves rustling in the summer breeze, an owl beginning its hunt, a bairn crying...

He stood upright and rose his lantern higher, heart sinking in his chest. It wasn’t uncommon for young mothers to come out this way but Alistair had never been able to find the child still alive before. It was always the remains of guilt and sorrow. He quickened his stride, gaze shifting back and forth from the path of prints to where the pup could catch the sound far better than he could.

He should have known to have come to this tree as soon as he heard the first cry and scolded himself promptly. He quickly reached inside and, by whatever miracle, the babe was warm and very much alive in his hold. Whoever had left the newborn, ‘a bloody newborn’, here hadn’t left a scrap of cloth to cover the lad. He was quickly taking off his waistcoat in an attempt to wrap the small thing up, all the while trying to hush its cries and stop Barclay from jumping upon him.

He was trying to bounce him, trying to summon any memory of the last time he ever held something even akin to this. He had a calf born in the spring but that couldn’t even be close to the same. The lad was likely starving. Hell, Alistair wasn’t in any way equipped to take care of a mere babe but he knew he at least had milk from the cow. It would only be temporary, he told himself as he slowly made his way back home. Just until he could go to town and see if someone would be willing to take the lad in.

He sat on the wooden stool near the hearth and was attempting to spoon-feed milk into the child’s mouth. He seemed more interested in grabbing his fingers than eating. Alistair cursed and readjusted the squirming thing in his arms several times before, eventually, the lad seemed interested in what was being offered to him. Slowly and surely, he was fed. Alistair never thought the whole ordeal would be as exhausting as it was.

He laid in his bed and stared at the thatch ceiling, the wee one laying at his side already fast asleep. He shifted onto his side and watched for every breath and rise and fall of his chest. He really hadn’t a clue how he was supposed to take care of something as small as that. It would be better to take him to an orphanage in the morning.

Alistair had little sleep that night, further trouble feeding the boy in the morning, and his eyes were heavy as he got on his horse to ride into town. It seemed the king and queen had been blessed with a baby boy and the town was now rejoicing. Why exactly, Alistair didn’t really know. As he bought food from a vendor, he was asked about the child swaddled comfortably in his hold. He tried to ignore the comments about how adorable the whole thing was, especially from the men who knew him, and he retreated to the quiet courtyard of the church. Hopefully, someone, there could take this child in and...

It was looking at him with sleepy blue eyes and Alistair realized he didn’t notice them the night before. Or how blonde his hair was... or how soft his cheeks were when he leaned down to kiss him. He felt... less alone as he held the babe as he finished his breakfast. Maybe, some company wouldn’t be the worst idea. The bells chimed the hour and happy babbling followed suit.

“Pretty ain’t they Matthew?” The name felt right to say. Surely, despite however it was he ended up in that tree, the child must have been a gift from the heavens above. He had found a way to live. “I’ll take care of you from now on. It’ll be the two of us. I’ll make a fine man of you, I’ll see to that.”

Maybe with a good name, he could be given a life of promise.

#hws england #hws france #hws america #hws canada #hws scotland #hetalia #ace writes #royal au #reworking a project i started writing when i was 15 #i can only hope my younger self would read and enjoy and be proud of it #cardverse if you squint

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aus-wnt · 2 years

Note

post game comments from tony

https://www.matildas.com.au/news/Gustavsson-what-Matildas-work-Round-2-against-Canada

With plenty of missed opportunities for both teams, Gustavsson said the statistics make it hard to believe the scoreline.

"Sitting here looking at the stats there was 25 to 21 box entries, 16 shots to 13 to us and seven on target for us and five on target for them, this game should have ended 3-3 and Canada had the chances as well, let's be real," he said.

"In the second half, Canada went one-on-one with the goalkeeper three times and we also had two of those and three with Vine coming on in the second half, it's a bit unbelievable that it ended one nil to Canada, to be honest.

"We talked about it in the circle and yesterday at training as well. A game like this is most likely going to be decided on conversion rate and goal zones. We've had a lot of focus on final pass and finishing, but it's just one of those days sometimes. In another game, we'd score three. We've seen it before, over and over again in the game of football, but it's something we need to work on for sure."

Gustavsson also commended 20-year-old Charli Grant for holding her own against much more experienced oppponents.

"Like I said before [in the pre-match press conference], it was going to be a little bit of a different game, where there's a great opportunity for Charli and she doesn't shy away from a challenge," he said.

"If you look at her first half, there was only one single time that Prince got a shot on goal and that was outside of the box. Otherwise, she neutralised her completely in that first half. In the second half where we started to open up and go for goal, there was more space, so we got a little bit more vulnerable and they got in behind us," he continued.

"We know that Canada is one of the best transition teams in the world and obviously with Alana going down as well and that changes what we did. But in that first half, they actually didn't get into our goals one single time, they had two shots outside of the box and one worldie and what else can you say to that but congratulations."

A follow-up question was asked regarding Alanna Kennedy's injury sustained during the game and whether she would be fit to play in Australia's second match against Canada on Tuesday.

"The only thing I've heard so far is that there's something with the hamstring and obviously, they're going to look at her, but from experience, I know when it's a hamstring you normally wouldn't come back as fast as to play Tuesday's game. I don't want to speculate, but my experience says she most likely won't play," he said.

"When it comes to depth, like I've said before, we have invested in these 18 months, in options. Courtney Nevin has played with left-footed centerback for us, Aivi Luik has played and she's by the way, been phenomenal for BK Häcken in the Swedish league. So we have some clear options in the back. But obviously, when you're missing three key starters with Ellie [Carpenter], Steph [Catley] and Alanna, it's going to be influenced somehow."

With patches of dominance seen throughout the match despite so many lineup changes, Gustavsson said he believes the CommBank Matildas can beat the best in the world.

"When you do as many changes as you did today, similar for Canada, there were two very different teams out there today. So the game itself wasn't really solid for either of the teams, it was a bit, forth and back in spaces, it was a different game. I think is also because some of the players haven't played that much together," he explained.

"I do think that when we play the way we want to play, we can beat Canada. I know we can. We might not be the best team in the world, but we can beat the best team in the world and I think we saw that tonight as well. We can beat Canada if we play at the level that we know we can play at."

#Matildas #AUSWNT

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libidomechanica · 5 months

Text

“Be gin simmer, sir”

A limerick sequence

Have from thee. Be gin simmer, sir. The Thrifty Sanhedrins to plume the Regal Rights. But soon as breath and feel you are coming on like a parting man. For spiders.

And die cluster of the Southern sky; thy longing, though he looketh toward the two are gone to sea, yet, ye are seven! And beauty made me the plain sae rashy, O!

Up the sting to the wide desert all around. Or duchess, princess sleeps. One last look wanton-wise. You charm’d me not with its death- wound, its wound on my breasts and small hips.

Sweet lies at most. Was left upon his way. Was it yesterday call yet once that she was wildly clad; her eyes, as from a man’s bed, I’m fley’d it mak me eerie, sir.

Kisses, how? Your lips and our dayes run the same Designs, and streight therewithal, smooth as is the voice and fall. And a heavy day I was arisen out of bed?

To aid the bower of beauty still. Like womens Leachery, to see him or know thee, and nothing loved ever along a weary way, but night determinate.

While Pan and fairest maid was bonie Jean. Great joy was hers, or rather be your sacrifice receiv’d in sight of thine eyes attempred to the Cape. Has but changed her face.

Their lives in and outruns Desire. And did you determine, as we pass, you take of my beloved turned in the end. And that made the old hope for no esteem.

Still roam free. Till love is laid. Jenny kissed me where all was colour’d hed, milke hands, gathered shake dew on the courtier’s art. Would search with thee and warmth, which I not kept.

They strike up and streight the Priest, whom I look upon thine. All Compexions some Eyes take delight, it soon would have been, if Destiny had higher place was t’other way.

And runs the circuit of my life, misled, and Europe’s Liberator’— still enslaved. To other Israelite complain. In vain I have done that life should not rise.

Now what could be dear call once yet! That I have a Right Supreme Command, giv’n by thee, his deadly breath in the rest, with lullaby then wink awhile, with lullaby?

Let his Love Enchant your generous,— all such ladies are: love, that opprest the sun; coral is far above their alert enemies the most! If I could not beene.

Some hunger, too, they say. Children’, as they are side by side; and now approach Love’s world shall not go again; love sells the morning came, and by the sand-hills, at the end.

You are a national product and power. Aye, all day from this first love-salute was interchanged: the reigning favourite to death, her soul may drink of thy Name.

Come, my beloved among the sweetest buds doth love, and all the worst cause of hate.—Farewell, fair Armida, my joy and my body that flows down into a worse.

If I may have larks. Are burthens for a Camel, not a King: kings are Negligent or Weak? Then follows thee, my sunflower heeds not her poore Slaues vniust decaying.

Thy two breasts. Sleeps should know why they write, and frost will blight that floats into your life, which be, so you will; heroic if you dare the true; and if such sweet ecstasy!

As tis for Parents to foresee, make Heirs for Monarks, and shews the painter’s art. I’ll seek him who, in my mind, to make the Prince, Severe and Wise, imparts not the cates.

Of thy neck is as a winter’s tale? Of the aching hed, pray that made the Jews; for towns once burnt, turn’d a foe in hope to get our souls fly to th’ shades of loue.

Let who will the flittering two angels look surprise on one another’s house, my heart? Robert Burns: king and a father reason; my soul’s full meaning into white.

Mounts up, and gold, that the East doth hold. The lake in the day, he saw Menalcas come therewith the effort of its own skin, her pearls. Does him to prolong the Jews.

Boot, at least a part of me! She was silver, too. My love is blind but with light. And not so stout, nor gates are driven: they strike the Priest, who better than the despair.

Not always will be Eastern hill where you mark’d but the cold relief; you all have been no rents at all, and lo! And though tears thou shalt find it merit their merriment.

Till love exhausted, driven out of season: never more than the Lark, to fetch in the goal, when ’t is theogony? Whom fair Corinna sits, and Recording Muse.

But free from flower and pride of a’ the glen sae bushy, O! Son, who had shone in the Ephesian ruins howl by night, each with you white, black, or copper—the dead?

About coming in a man, compare thou shalt from every vulgar tongues high race, whom Kings no Titles gave, and, forsooth: I have seen from me. He must, let’s goe a Maying.

Was a ta’en city, thirty thousand. Love that endures, from my mother. Some people which is another counts me as About Ferguson, deceiving elf.

But now so too, too wise to look upon the graves and showers from the forests far away, until he can make it from the rock. At last wet step before her still.

To that colour fix’d; beauty no pencil, beauty’s summer and wide, and withers in a rowe? Of each encumbrance clear them, were Crime is God’s beloved among them.

Thy comfort me with too much, and dies out Hem! Overhead, overhead rushes life in me. Like men in Feavers burn and rave, as fast as specie can, upon his way.

Though I now write fifty years, his peers? Your oversight. A shade, out of them. We shall together. I did look, sharp as a lynx, and yet leaue me helplesse meerely?

If thou die before i’ll kiss thee; yea, I should narrate. As to do no thing to require, let Law then shouldst not abhor my state: if thy unworthy of thy Reign?

Be Strong; sharp shall sting. Of that room is eel-black. Shoot of Passion could tye. She has virgin face. It once mingled love first Ismail’s capture caught him, but I could not rise.

Sicker I hold it law that when we entered, reached the second was Ambition Blinds! Though modest, on his goodly death; that as the tomb bestrew wherein affection.

Does him to prolong their band was worthless song, darkening, black as a raven. More turning into his garden, and Phillis refused me! And overwhelms us all.

And the porch we left by, Norman; took our look at sea and land, for sure it was sweet-season’d showers of rubles rain, as all thy might but enjoy content. And lo!

Which he could not be beleeued, but he came. Yet eyes this cunning Painter takes in any curious way the whole empress, nor forgetting quite the word of sugar.

Except thou payèd were. With me—or fall from thee. For thro’ the languid rout of our sensations! Openly love’s fuellers, and speak the thing in every part, I could sup!

He is not enough to common air. Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorne? Within the gallant friends, and blear-eyed Will the Noble seed; david, for him not.

And thither half the neighbouring borough wind and runs the circuit of my life’s whole soul toward the suspicion. Behold, thou mine, I thine, even as when raging sea!

She found a path full of Angels from her fall: she fell with oath to make me who I am, entirely. Heroic if you come, some ballad or a songs sake.

Climb! Around my Highland lassie, O. As tis for Pardon. Or have tasted the Pigmy Body to decay: and no spurre can his resty race renewe, without pause!

And in that she went away? For his mind; and Fortune and me, is a pure cup of coffee to soothe his woes with a Jealousies and pearl in rubies set, for teeth.

Right hand should narrate. Among which go up from the chamber keeping it because thou art all that, the game, and on the Crown; and so we forged a sevenfold story.

Nymph of al, of Oliue braunches, who threw into a Russian couplet rather more will bore any sweet lies at most. Ruby-lipp’d and tooth’d with renown, and, in betwixt.

And being brave. The wind, a substance like stone than this thy stature more sweet than another country’s gore, and winding me, knowing thy bridal bed, that Love’s fine wit.

Looks backward, I could be too has been given; Still wouldst thou payèd were. ’Re made for May: and o’r inform’d his Youthfull Image in his vault where art thou goest safe, supreme.

If Mildness Ill with gems and golden, shows the decay we’re made of stone and drew, from butts of water on the flow of—was it yesterday? Snarling strange was the few.

Can abide to keep fair play. Find out the knolls a dozen angry models jetted steam: a petty railway ran: a fire-balloon rose gem-like up before the wine.

Her soul made me go to the grave, letting from the gate, and, tis my wish, and never say suppose a Monarch which they contends, it selfe this vaine scuse giue? What is Love?

His grief is their poison brought a Crime. Juan, who for pickings prowl, and so grac’d to be in the world they by my Mercy scan, beware the Fury of a Patient Man.

Sweet soul that reach up the hills. Or the mountain shower, too weak, for all her nerves, just as we reap in joy the fruit there: big and bobbing wax fruit, sweating with blue plums.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 8 #198 texts #limerick sequence

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gothighunicorntolerance · 3 years

Text

At last, my Big Bang fic!

When Roman and his friends go hiking, they expect to see some birds, some lizards, maybe a deer if they were lucky- not a hidden cave with a sleeping person inside, unable to be woken up by anyone. His friends decide to let the sleeping person stay put, but there’s some feeling Roman just can’t shake off. Red chapter one below, and the full fic on AO3, accompanied by amazing art by @littlebigmouse

taglist: @theimprobabledreamersworld @edupunkn00b @ts-storytime

AO3 link

art post

The tranquility of the forest was quickly interrupted by the banter of several people standing by a parked car, their faces illuminated by the pink-tinted full moon low on the horizon.

“Come at me, Mothman! I have a very juicy ass you would LOVE!”

“Remus, you IDIOT. Mothman lives in West Virginia!”

“Well what about the skunk ape, Virgil? Don't you want to see the Skunk Ape? SKUNK APE! SKUNK APE!” He chanted, his voice echoing in the parking lot.

“Remus, would you shut up?!” Roman shoved his brother. “We are actually going to try and find wildlife like deer and stuff, and that’s not going to happen if you keep shouting for cryptids to fuck you.”

The rest of the group sighed collectively at the antics of the twins, though Roman didn’t pay much attention to his friends’ groaning.

“Anyways,” Roman said louder than necessary. “Logan, you have the compass, right?”

“Of course. I also brought several yards of paracord, just in case. And also cereal bars, batteries, and water.”

“Thank you for being the responsible one,” Roman laughed. “Virgil, it’s your job to make sure that the entire state of Florida doesn’t find out that my brother is a monster fucker.”

Virgil groaned. “You know that’s going to be impossible.”

“Just punch him when you think he’s about to say something stupid.”

“Oh, like this?” Virgil smacked Remus in the arm.

“Ow!” Remus groaned.

“Well, I thought you were about to say something stupid.”

“Can we please just get on with our hiking-adventure-whatever you’re calling it?” Janus spoke up.

“Please.” Logan agreed.

“O-KAY! Into the woods!” Roman sang.

The five hikers walked down the small dirt path, the mud from last night’s storm splashing their ankles. The colors of the sunset were barely visible through the branches of the trees, which cast long shadows onto the ground and Roman still quietly humming all parts of the song by himself.

As Roman’s song ended, trailing off into the instrumental bits, Remus had finally shut up about various cryptids, and the only sounds were the squelching of mud sticking to their shoes and the occasional snap of a stick or crunch of a fallen leaf underfoot.

The May nights were cool and humid, so most days like this, Roman wore cheaper jeans and a hoodie that he was willing to throw away if it got too dirty or torn.

About half an hour into their adventure-hike, Logan silently passed around flashlights to everyone, which Roman gladly accepted. It had gotten dark quickly, to the point where Roman had been barely able to see his feet.

Suddenly, Virgil, who was in front, stopped.

“Deer,” he whispered, aiming his flashlight into the trees.

Roman followed the flashlight beam onto a huge buck, its pelt speckled with mud and antlers extending far beyond its ears.

“The inside spread is over twelve inches,” Logan whispered.

“That’s big, right?” Janus asked.

“Yes, it is. The largest recorded spread in the state of Florida was nineteen and a half inches.”

Roman knew that Remus was about to open his mouth and say something stupid, and apparently, so did Virgil, because Remus groaned again after he was hit in the shoulder, the rest of the group snickering.

The deer eventually ran away, and the group continued on until the dirt path ended.

“Hey, look at this!” Virgil waved the group over to where he was standing, shining his flashlight into a large opening in the side of a rockface.

Roman jogged over and looked into the cave- as far as the flashlight illuminated, he could see moss and other plants clinging to wet stone.

“I haven’t seen this before- I think I’d remember,” Janus commented.

“It must have been uncovered by erosion from the storm last night,” Logan added in.

“Let’s go in!” Roman and Remus said at the same time, grinning at each other. They might not agree on much, but when it came to deciding whether or not to explore a creepy-looking cave, the answer was always going to be yes.

“Don’t you think we should- never mind,” Virgil sighed as the twins started swinging their flashlights across the wet ground of the cave.

“Look at this!” Remus whisper-shouted to Roman, pointing out some kind of slime growing on a rock.

“That is disgusting, put it down or I’m not letting you in the car,” Roman said as Remus began to poke the slime.

Remus stuck his tongue out at his brother but reluctantly stopped poking the unfamiliar growth. Roman turned around to see that the rest of the group had followed them in.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil asked worriedly. “I mean, this cave wasn’t here before, and we might be the first living things to step in here in maybe hundreds of years.”

“And this is how people find monster boyf- OW!” Virgil once again took it upon himself to hit Remus in the arm to stop him from talking about various cryptids in a non-child-friendly manner.

“Caves such as this one are particularly interesting because you never know what you might find- oh, look!” Logan pointed to another small opening at the back of the cave.

“I’m going to crawl through!” Roman declared after the group had spent a minute or so deciding what to do.

Roman got on his hands and knees and started to wedge himself through the opening, quite aware that he would likely have to put his clothes through more than one wash cycle to get the stains out. He bit down on the flashlight, illuminating what was in front of him, but only barely.

When there was finally room for Roman to stand, he turned and called through the opening, “I’m fine! You can come through, it’s safe!”

The second part of the cave was much wider than the first part, and Roman was able to stand without hunching over.

Swinging his flashlight across the ground, Roman suddenly gasped.

There was a man laying on the ground, hands folded across his chest, dressed in- were those robes?

“Guys…? You might want to see this…” Roman called out again, his voice shaking.

“Ro? Are you okay- HOLY SHIT!” Janus crawled through, his eyes wide with disbelief and perhaps a little fear.

Remus and Virgil came through next, Remus uncharacteristically silent, his mouth open in an ‘o.’

Logan was the last to crawl through, and he, like everyone else, stood silent, looking at the figure laying in the center of the cave, arms crossed over their chest and wings spread out- Roman rubbed his eyes. This couldn’t be real- he couldn’t have found some guy in a cave that hadn’t been touched in years!

Maybe they had gotten drunk or something and put on a very realistic-looking cosplay and then ran through the woods? Remus had done odder things, so it couldn’t be completely ruled out.

Janus slowly walked up to the figure, stepping over the silken blue robes and putting his hand on their neck, careful not to knock off the wire framed glasses.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s really faint.” Janus announced to the group. “They’re definitely not dead.” The hikers stepped closer to the sleeping person, forming a circle around them but careful to not touch the giant gray bird wings sprouting from their back. Roman noticed a strand of curly brown hair had fallen into their eyes, and resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the strand of hair behind their ear.

After a moment of silence, Roman spoke up. “Should we… try to wake them up? I mean, what else should we do?”

Roman was careful not to touch the sleeping person. Roman wouldn’t admit it, but he was afraid there would be some kind of horror movie scene- where as soon as he got close enough, they would sit up and try to murder him. Or something like that.

Logan crouched and tapped his phone, and the default alarm sound echoed through the cave. The person didn’t stir.

Virgil stepped up next, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle and pouring the contents onto their face. “Seriously? Nothing?” Virgil muttered.

“Let me try,” Janus said, grabbing the person’s shoulder and shaking them.

“Alright,” Remus said, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeve. He looked up at Roman, grinning, before bringing his arm down to the person’s face and slapping them on the cheek. Roman cringed at the echo it created, but there was still no reaction from them.

“How the fuck did that not work?” Remus stared at the still-sleeping person.

“Heavy sleeper?” Roman suggested.

“Coma?”

“Dead?”

“Are we about to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“Underlying medical condition?”

“Alright, it’s your turn, Prince Charming. Go do a true love’s kiss on the guy. You never know,” Remus laughed.

“No way! I’m not touching that guy with my finger, let alone my mouth!” Roman protested as Remus tried to drag him over.

Another beat of silence passed before Virgil spoke up. “I think we should leave. This dude’s probably not okay, and I don’t want to have to call the police or paramedics. I don’t want to get involved in anything, whether this guy is just stoned or in a coma or whatever.”

“Yeah.” Roman said after a minute of consideration. “You’re right. I don’t want to get involved. We should just- I dunno, leave the guy here? Maybe check later to see if they’re okay? I mean, they’re not dead.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and soon crawled back out the way they came. Roman exited last, and couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at the sleeping figure. A small part of him wanted to stay behind, try and wake them up.

But Roman ignored that feeling and left the cave with the rest of his group.

Once the group srood back on the path, all a little shaken or confused from what they had just seen, Roman said, “let’s all just go back home. If we want to, we’ll come back next week or whenever to make sure the guy’s either okay or gone, but for now just leave it alone.”

Roman said the last part for himself, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing something. He shook his head and followed Logan and Janus, who had already started walking back to the parking lot through the wet grass and still-sticky mud. Even in the dim light, Roman could tell the two of them were holding hands. Roman opened his mouth to tease the two of them but thought better of it. They had all just seen something pretty weird in that cave (Roman was still trying to decide what he really saw), and Logan and Janus hadn’t announced that they were together, probably for the exact reason that Roman would tease them.

Oh well, there would be plenty of moments for teasing later. For now, Roman just focused on dragging his feet along the muddy path back to the car, though he kept glancing over his shoulder. He told himself that it was to keep an eye on Remus and Virgil and make sure they were still behind him, but the nagging feeling that he had forgotten something still lingered.

#Sanders sides #Thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #royality #ts storytime #Big Bang event #Sanders sides fic

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tarunsaravana · 3 years

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POP STARS IN DANGER

Over the years, a lot of pop stars came out as being “slaves” to the music industry. Example : Brittany spears, Camila cabello , BTS, fifth harmony Lauren jauregui and more which we will get in a minute. Before we get into it , these are all just theories , none of are “facts” and they are not meant to hurt anything/anyone. Alright lets hop into it .Pop stars are being said as the puppets in street whose controlled by big guys with black suit , but nothing has more covered up then music industry treating pop stars as slaves. Meet the darker world of Kpop

DARKER WORLD OF KPOP

First we are going to talk about a guy known as prince Henry mak. He was the former member of Kpop group called JJCC records. He came out and talked about the secrets of the Kpop and it shocked a lot of fans. He states “you can be working 20 hours a day and earn like zero dollars a day , 2 dollars a day lf you’re lucky. For 10 years” now he refers to the contracts as “slave contracts” he states “slave contract is usually above 10-15 years in average years, no dating, dieting ,some even has plastic surgery that’s a slave contract” when you’re a Kpop star, everything in your life is watched , your diet , your weight , your hair and when its all over you’re left with nothing.he states “you go older and you probably need to go to army and retire you have no money and you’re left with nothing”. These Kpop stars are being controlled by record labels are so overworked that they litterally pass out on stage.Fans have also noticed healthy weight gain from the BTS members, which stands in contrast to other idols who put themselves under dangerously low weight measures. It is clear to see the difference in how different companies treat their artists and how the difference in treatment can affect the group’s overall well-beings and mental health. Even in a article it was said that “With countless hours of work and practice, harsh expectations and criticism from netizens, and colossal amounts of pressure put on them by their companies, certain idols have gone as far as taking their own lives, deciding that this so-called “perfect and glamorous” life wasn't worth it, according to People”. There’s a clip of a girl named Krystal from Kpop who passes out on stage, there’s actually so many clips of her passing out that even had compilations, but this isn’t new Kpop stars passing out on stage is something which is happening for years. Now fans of BTS throwing up on side of the stage ,and even after the show they needed to be hospitalized.

CONSPIRACY

Now listen its not just Kpop stars treated like this, the amount of music artists where they’re hinting like they’re feeling like robots and being controlled by the record labels is insane. Britney Spears ,lady gaga, ke$ha are being treated by the music industry like slaves is very real. Just read this alleged audio clip of fifth harmony member Lauren jauregui she says “making decisions on a regular basis to make us literal slaves , like literal slaves ,like we are doing LABOUR and we see nothing”. Another audio came out of member Camila cabello saying this “sorry I couldn’t come over”. “they were actually making us work to the bone , like we did 5 songs “ and then after those leaked , there was a q/a with fans and Lauren said this “I was wondering if you had any advice for someone going into music industry ,like myself , READ YOUR CONTRACTS”.

SONY (theory)

Now , somebody that did talk about this is Micheal Jackson ,he even went into a stage one night with a sign saying “SONY KILLS MUSIC” he said this one night “I’m not supposed to say what I am going to say alright? , uhh…pls don’t tape this , okay ,Tommy motola is a devil. (Tommy motel) (CEO OF SONY 1990- 2003)Mariah Carey after divorcing Tommy , came to me crying, she said this was a evil man , Micheal , this man follows me she said ,he tapped her phones and he’s very very evil”.

That’s right sony, the same label that forced ke$ha to someone she was terrified of. (The judge rule that ke$ha will remain under content with sony.) now prince was also very vocal about this as well. He’s said “we live a place now of a plantation, we are all indentured servants” he even performed one night with SLAVE shoved on his face. Now Micheal Jackson and prince was the only two vocal popstars and then mysteriously they died in a very similar way by a drug overdose. Then of course you have Kanye west throwing the word “slavery” a lot in press , what if he’s hinting the possible slaves in the music labels.

BRITTENY SPEARS

Now ,one of the most controversial theories of all time surrounding Brittany spears is her hinting clues in her songs.now if you look at the title of her song its looks fun “baby one more time” , “soda pop” and in her next album it got a bit weirder “lucky” a song showcasing a girl whose scared and miserable. And then in her next album “lonely” , “overprotected”,”let me be“and of course “I’M SLAVE” AND if you look at the record label she’s owned by , its called jive which is owned by SONY. and if you’re wondering what record label the fifth harmony is owned by called “epic” which owned by SONY. Guess who Camila cabello works for SONY. She even got hospitalized , yeah. okay now back to Brittany spears , she uploaded a video with a soft pitched voice even though fans started clipping her old and new voice. Some people say that she has a manager who sped the voice up.

CARDI B

She has been blowing up in 2018 and she was to be one of the most famous popstars ever.Her song bodak yellow is been exploding on the internet. However a clip came out of her in a interview in red carpet and people started speculating that she is a illuminati puppet. She’s says she is shaky and excited about the album and stops and stares like a mind controlled puppet. I mean its weird right? I don’t know if she is being sarcastic that moment, but the second the two of the members ,who were co-ordinaters are looking directly to her. Now this got people believe that she is part of illumanati and she is being mind controlled. I mean she did become extremely popular in life. She says in one of her videos she says “my family is my man , illuminati which one of my cousins, you want for that dead kid?”. Then she posted in one of instagram , with a devil horn in her hands and not just this video , there are thousands of pictures of her putting 666 on her fingers. She went on live one night and said this “I believe america is trying to kill you, like I’m going to shift my parents to Dominican Republic and the reason is umm….the food industry, like how the lettuce and fruits last so long like they have to be organic foods”. I mean she is not wrong , the amount of flouride put on our daily water is insanity.

CONCLUSION

TODAY we talked about lot of theories, right?. We talked the dark side of Kpop , we talked about cardi b being possibly rogue in her hypnosis, we even talked about the infamous Brittany spears incident. Thank for making into the end and if liked this blog, then let me know.also make sure to click this URL , www.tarunbieber.blogspot.com to watch more conspiracy theories. Alright you guys see you in the next blog.

Tarun

#conspiracytheories

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afterthelastreset · 3 years

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Rules Of One’s Soul Ch24 A Final Understanding

( Warning: Past abuse mentioned. Also the part about souls is not relationship advice, this is just my headcannons for how monster souls work. Mak belongs to @alois-toussaint )

A clock ticked off in the corner of the home, showing the hours as they ticked by. But neither of the two men had slept for that time, two busy preoccupied with the situation at hand. A calm soft paw, ran through shiny white hair. It shimmered brighter than the light of the fireplace that crackled in front of the three, as they all laid their on the old couch. ...But only two were really awake, one being the owner of the paw that gently soothed the unconscious worm monster. Seam was staring blankly into the fireplace, button eye spinning and humming a lullaby of all things. Strange but it was better than the silence or ticking of the clock, and it helped to ease the nerves of the other awake man who was curled up very similar to a cat. Half laying on the chest of the unconscious man and half leaning against Seam, Jevil's face a mix of worry and determination as he pressed his ear to Rouxls's rising and falling chest. Listening very carefully to the calm breathing of his lungs, and the thumping of his soul. Making sure that both had a smooth rythme and his ear constantly twitched, listening for any signs his soul mate might've been in danger in anyway. Even as he slept, the duke looked worried about something, but so far nothing else had happened.

Until Seam stopped the lullaby and took a giant intake. Taking a moment to look back to the two people he held in his lap, and sighed. This was not what he was expecting when he closed up shop today, when Jevil burst into the sheap store front with an unconscious worm monster dragging across the floor. He had been just finishing up repatching his old magician cloak. It had been a little over a hundred years since he wore the thing, and it had been in rough shape, but with his expert skills in repatching himself, he was able to fix it up back to it's almost former glory. Just sewed the last stitch, too. Until a loud bang sound went off,like a gunshot, he flinched hard and his fur stood on end. Whirling around to the front of the sheap entrance just as the first shouts came thorugh.....But that wasn't what was so scary about it.

It was the calling.

A wave of energy pumped out, and his soul thumped hard against his chest. The energy wave he felt from other two entities were the exact same as his, and the emotions with the waves of energy made him stand to his feet. Ever have that feeling when you watch someone perform something dangerous you get that weird light feeling in your feet and your body tenses up, fearing the worst and on edge even if nothing happens? That was what he felt but way stronger. Jevil had felt it in a similar fashion. After the wave of rage that he had be confronted with by the duke, he was left absolutely stunned. Not being able to do so more than just blankly stare when everyone slowly got back into their position of cooking, when it hit him. His soul had reacted first. He had actually given a yelp when his own soul crashed against his ribcage and began beating a mile a minute. A wave of fear made his body freeze and his yellow pupils shrank down to those pinpricks.....Rouxls was calling for him. It was like someone shocked him and made a serge of energy shocked through him, everyone was taken aback at the purple blur that bulleted out of the doors with a bang and down the hall. Eyes darting around, lungs heaving, and every nerve stood on end. He didn't know what purpaled him to his office, but he didn't hesitate with the energy waves hitting his ribcage harder and harder, so he didn't hesitate to bullet his way in there and found the duke. Bent over his desk. Sobbing hard and messily into the papers on his desk ....A blue light emanated from under his hunched over form and his stomach dropped at what he was seeing. Immediately he had yanked the duke up to him and once the two made actual physical contact, it only got worse. The two souls pulsated upon meeting a third of the requirement needed for the entire triangle. And Jevil new full on well what that meant when panic shot through him and both souls now began thumping hard. The beats ringing in his ears and the fear and sorrow radiating off of the worm became too much as both went calling out for the third.

"HOLD ON!! HOLD ON!! IM TAKING YOU TO SEAM RIGHT NOW, NOW!!"

He didn't know whether or not the sobbing duke heard him as he could barely hear himself with the intensity of the feelings and energy waves. But he forced himself to summon magic when he sucked in a breath and the familiar spinning feeling engulfed the two of them fully. The worm completely went limp in his arms, most likely passed out from the feeling of being teleported, so when they landed, they slammed down hard onto the sheap's musty smelling floor and Jevil ended up under his top half. Fear and panic still spiking in him.

"SEAM!! SEAM, HELP ME!!"

The adrenaline still pumping in his veins as he crawled out from under the duke's completely limp body and stood onto shaking legs. The waves were still coming and their souls were not letting up on the assault of beats and energy waves. Seam came immediately, but froze in the doorway when he saw the small shape of Jevil heaving Rouxls across the floor towards him. Absolute panicked expression on his face. Immediately the cat made his way over. Jevil could easily feel the final and third piece of the calling finally make his way to them souls thumping in anticipation for his. And when the shocked and wide eyed cat immediately bent down and placed a paw on Rouxls's chest, Jevil's hands grabbing and sinking into his soft fur.....It stopped. The calling. The energy waves. The hit of emotions and thumping of souls against rib cages....It all stopped. Like it never happened. Jevil was heaving. Blinking and holding onto Seam for dear life as his body shook and shivered. Blinking as his soul slowly began to go back to thumping at a normal pace. With what strength he had left, his ears went back against his head as he forced his shaking head to look at the unconscious duke on the floor...No more calling came from him.

"Jevil." He flinched and whipped up to Seam who turned his one good orange and black eye to him. ".....What happened?"

The little man blinked up him before those clawed hands gestured towards the unconscious Worm. "DON'T TELL, DON'T TELL ME YOU CAN'T FEEL IT SEAM!! HIS SOUL WAS CALLING TO US!! DISTRESS, DISTRESS HARDER THAN I HAVE SEEN, SEEN!! IT WOULD NOT LET, LET UP UNLESS BOTH PRESENT FOR THE OTHER HALF!!"

"...." Seam stared at him, scared expression still present on his face. "...Yes. I can feel the past effects from it."

"Will he.." He glanced back down to the scared man. "Will he be alright?"

Seam didn't answer at first. His eye staring down at the unconscious worm under his paw, Rouxls's heart and soul were beating at a normal pace for someone sleeping and his cool body didn't look any worse for ware. They were lucky Jevil found him so soon. Jevil watched as Seam shifted to both his knees, leaning over the duke and using his arms, carefully shifted them under his lump body. The imp watched as Seam carefully brought Rouxls up into his hold and ever so slowly, stood. Looking over Rouxls one last time before turning to the room in the back and began walking.

"Yes. But he'll need plenty of rest, and we need to be right next to him. His soul wants that, but for now let him sleep."

Which finally brought them to this situation. Like stated earlier, Seam's strange but soothing lullaby had stopped and the stuffed cat had opted to looking at the frail blue man in his hold. His stare studying and his button spinning. Paw gently rubbing his head. As one would hold and treat a child, but it seemed appropriate for the situation none the less and so it was done. But Jevil didn't seem to notice as he still kept a watchful ear on their soulmate......Until a voice broke the silence.

"This can't be continuing on like this." Jevil jumped and momentarily blinked up to the cat from his laid position, just as Seam slowly turned his one eyes gaze to him. Blank as a bourd. "He can't keep having emotions that get this bad of a reaction out of him." The paw that wasn't rubbing his head shifted and came up to gently touch the middle of the rising and falling chest, the steady beats of his soul greeted him as a welcome. "...Like I asked before-" His one eye narrowed into an almost scowl. "What. Happened?" Jevil didn't answer. Just stared at the large cat with that same small pupil scared look, until Seam shook him. "Jevil. This is not a time for games."

His harsh tone was something that made the imp wince. He hadn't heard Seam use a tone like that since-....Since he was subdued and ....locked away. His body shook at the memories. Seam's disapproving face when he stared down at the crying imp. The key in his hand giving off a shiny glint before he came to hold it in both hands. The sounds of crunching when it was destroyed and the pieces falling to his feet. The very, very blank face he gave when he turned around and began walking back towards the stairs and elevator. Disappearing into the darkness. The absolute sobbing and sounds of Jevil as he continuously rammed his small body against the bars trying to get out, arms desperately reaching for someone who wasn't there anymore. The pleading of his voice begging for Seam to come back. The constant ramming of the soul in his chest calling out for the warm embrace of the cat who was not coming back. ....Yes. He knew the last thing Seam ever said to him before he disappeared for the next hundred years.

"No more games, Jevil."

And that had sealed the deal for his soul's heartbroken silence for nearly a hundred years, always coping by smiling and filling the cracks in his soul with games which no one wanted to play with until the lightner and second prince of darkness came and they had wore him down enough to fall into a deep sleep. By the time he woke back up, the guards had already resecured his cell door back and he was once again alone in his little freedom. But the excitement and hope his three visitors brought still reinstated hope in him that someone would come back and play again. Until that fateful day Rouxls came. And everything changed. And now it just might all crumble into tiny pieces shattering their souls once more. And the way Seam was still staring at him...The imp curled in on himself.

"...Rage, rage filled his soul before I found him." His eyes glancing back to Rouxls still asleep. "...B-B-Before he was calling, calling. Crying, crying a-as he did so."

The scowl lightly lifted from the stuffed face, "Rage you say?" Jevil nodded and he hummed. " I wonder what could've triggered that."

"He was very upset, upset when Lancer did not receive his share of breakfast." Seam blinked back to Jevil as he finally sat up against him. "He kept going on about him starving, starving. Not much sense."

Really?" Jevil nodded again. Coming from someone like Jevil who barely made sense as it was, this was very surprising. As he stared back to the unconcious man, he made a choice. It wasn't one he was very fond of, and these two wouldn't be too fond of it either, but with what information Jevil had told him from a couple days ago, and his constant reactions....It had to be done. "When he awakens, he must tell us about his past. Whether he likes it or not."

Jevil stared at Seam like the cat had just smacked Rouxls while he was down. "...WHAT, WHAT?! Seam. We must not push him so soon, so soon!"

"And then what?" His face now slightly angry as he stared down Jevil. "What for the next time he faints or collapse from shock again? Put him through so much confusion until he calls us again and we would still not know why? Jevil, maybe you are alright with not knowing but I for one rather get to the bottem of this. Better to know the cause of the problem and try to fix it then let it go on."

Jevil went quiet after that and stared at Seam for a moment. Before frowning and going back into his position of laying like a cat on the rising and falling chest, not arguing but not fighting against the choice made either. Good. That meant he was silently agreeing whether he liked it or not. Seam was always the more patient and rational thinker when it came to these things. But now..All they could do was wait. Wait and sit there with nothing but the crackling fire and the ticking clock for sound, not that soothing lulluaby because it seemed Seam's attention was just the same as Jevil's for the moment. Laser focused on the sleeping worm, and not knowing when the blue man would wake up from his uneasy slumber.

....

......

..........

"One, One hour, two hours, three hours, four- ...P-Please not five hours, six hours, seven hours, eight or more, more."

Ironic to be softly singing a nursery rhyme to yourself to replace the silence, but everyone had different ways of coping with the stress of what happens to them. For him, it was peaceful meditation. For Jevil...It was singing, that's why he had been humming that old lullaby like he always did back when he was worried for stage performances or something scared him. And to be fair this was a pretty scary situation for anyone to go through. So he didn't say anything as the jester sat there shaking and singing to himself...until his eye reopened at the sounds of crying and he couldn't help but frown at the sight before him. The imp was sobbing and clutching the Duke's fancy coat shirt in his clawed hands, placing his face into the soft fabric and proceeding to shake and quiver as that song ended. Seam looked at him but didn't make a move to stop him.

"My fault...MY FAULT!! ALWAYS MY FAULT!! MY FAULT!!" He wailed out. Hiccuping and pushing his forehead more into the shirt's soft fabric. "I-I-IT'S ALWAYS M-M-MY FAULT, SEAM!!"

"....what art thou rambling out now?"

Both froze and while Seam didn't make a move at first, Jevil's head slowly lifted from it's fabric prison and shakily looked up towards the front, yellow crying eyes met mitch matched confused ones as giant white eye lashes blinked slowly and tiredly at them. The worm was still exhausted, but not tired enough to go back to sleep. Imagine his confusion when his body had first started to wake up and the first thing to hit him was the feeling of something warm and soft hugging his body, the second thing was the incredible strong sent of cotton and musty smelling dust. Which made him give a little cough...Before those eyes slowly opened from the darkness and peered out into this strange new place of senses. Now that his body no longer held the numb feelings from before, he was able to feel the weight on his chest shaking and making his shirt soaked with tears, and the giant paw still soothingly rubbing his head.....Utter confusion was his first thought, before his ears winced back from the lou shouting of "My Fault!!" coming from the small purple jester on his chest. Wha-...Was that...Jevil??...What was the fool crying about now? So he uttered the question. And now he noticed there were two darkners staring at him...What were they looking at? What was he doing here?

"R-Rouxls, Rouxls!!" He barely had time to react before the same purple blur tackled the blue man's chest. Making Rouxls yelp and become fully awake now. Eyes blinking wildly and staring down as Jevil shoved his head into the crook of hos neck and those limbs wrapped around him! The worm man blinked in surprise before that familiar small scowl came over him. But the continued sobbing stopped him from yelling at him to get off. "SO SORRY!! SO SORRY AM I!! MY FAULT YOU CALLED AND SLIPPED FROM ME, FROM ME!! *hic* FORGIVE, FORGIVENESS YOU SHOULDN'T GIVE!!"

Rouxls winced lightly from being yelled practically in his ear, but stopped when Jevil's sobs and hiccups formed a said song to his ears. ".....*sigh*" His arms slowly reached up and patted his back. Making Jevil's shakes stop. "....T-Tis not thou's f-fault..." He looked up to Seam who was still silently staring at them both. "But exactly whateth happened?" Both other men froze....Seam rose a brow and Jevil turned his head just enough to look from Rouxls shoulder to peer up at him...Another hiccup escaping him before he went back into his position of burrying his face into the cool Blue shoulder. Rouxls looked to Jevil for a moment before scowling up to Seam again with a raised brow. "...Why art thou acting l-liketh this? What happened?"

"....You fainted. Don't you remember?" His face tilted curiously as Rouxls stared away in thought, button spinning.

The worm looked straight at nothing in thought. His mind a sold blank white slat before he shook his head. The last thing he remembered was being unable to move and feeling so numb. Worried yelling. And small paws tugging on his pants, small whimpers escaping the pup's mouth as his stomach rumbled, and that spade whole in his face scrunched up in worry.

"Im hungry, Lesser Dad-"

He flinched and it all came crashing back to him at lightning speed. Lancer was hungry and no one had bothered to feed him. A rage stronger than he ever felt came over him. He yelled at Jevil. His surprisingly scared face and the sudden feelings of emotions shocking through him. The weird pulsation of energy from his soul attack-....His hand went from Jevil's back and worriedly patted his chest a few times...He didn't feel like his body was turning into dust and his soul from what he felt only beated faster from his spike up from fear...Before he sighed and relaxed back into Seam's hold. Everything still felt the same but there was a strange rock feeling in his stomach...How'd he end up in Seam's lap?

"I-....T-Tis a soul attack." He blinked up at the large cat. "Why art I not in thine healer's courters?...Lancer!!" A sudden flinch came over him and tried to jump up but his wobbly body combined with Jevil and Seam still holding onto him didn't let up. "W-Where is mine son?!"

"He's fine! Jevil left him in the kings' care." Seam answered calmly before looking back at him. "But Im afraid your 'soul attack' wasn't an actual soul attack....Your soul was calling out for us Im afraid."

Rouxls just stared at him with a blank face. Oh my. This is what he was afraid of, he was completely ready to start calming the duke when the next few words tumbled out of his mouth. "N-Nah. I nah calledeth out. I don'tst remember sending for either of thou!" ....Jevil slowly pulled his face away from Rouxls's shoulder and blinked up so confused at the Duke's now confused face. " Why art I in thine shoppe after mine soul attack!? I needst a healer after a tremendous threat like that!" Jevil was about ready to argue with Rouxls if he thought he was gonna pretend Jevil wasn't scared for him and tried to help him, he had another thing coming-..But stopped when the words tumbled out of his mouth. The three stood there watching each other for a long moment, Rouxls raising a brow when Jevil and Seam exchanged a look with each other. "....What?"

"..You really, really don't know what your soul has done?"

"...What art thou spewing out? Of courseth I know what a soul attack tis."..He gave a confused look. "Though I ponder whyeth mineself was not shatttered into tiny peices and mine dust scattered about."

"...You really do know nothing about souls." Both gave each other another look and the duke rose his brow even further. What was with those faces they were giving each other? He went to say something but before he even had the chance Seam shifted and with a grunt, stood to his feet. Rouxls giving a small whine of surprise when he did and latch onto him when the giant stuffed cat turned around and, with Jevil still latched onto him like some monkey, carefully set Rouxls and jevil onto the couch. He unslipped his arms from around him and leaned back up to his full height with a sigh. Orange and black eye looking at the confused look on the Blue sparkling face as those eyes blinked up at the cat. "....I shall explain what you should've already known. But first I'll fetch some tea, it'd be rude not to offer you anything to help your nerves." Rouxls only watched silently as Seam sat down in the couch across from them, with a snap of his paws, the teakettle over the fireplace slowly began to shake and stir and with another three teacups materialized out of thin air and landed on the table with a few small clatters. Jevil finally clambered off of him and sat down beside him on the couch, the purple menace wasn't even floating, just...sitting down and giving him a guilty look every few seconds. "Now." He jumped and looked back to Seam who leaned back into the oppodite chair and sighed. "A watched pot never boils, so while we wait, Duke. I have a few questions that I rather have answers too if you don't mind."

The duke stared at him, before crossing his legs and arms over his chest. "I nay see what I haveth to say to thou. Thou has not even answered mine questions."

Seam hummed. "Fair enough. You're here because Jevil brought you here." He pointed a paw at the downcasted gremlin. "And we didn't get a healer because a healer can't fix what Im about to explain to you." Rouxls went to speak again but the kettle that was already making weird noises gave a high pitched whistle at that moment and grabbed Seam's attention. With another flick of his wrist, the kettle lifted to the air and flew over to them, steam rising out of the little spout. Once it was above the small coffee table Seam flicked his paw pointing downwards and expertly guilded the dark liquid down into the awaiting cups. Familiar smell of sweet marshmallow filled the air, must've been darke candy tea. Once they were all filled, back onto the fire the kettle went and Seam reached down to take his cup into his much larger paws. Fixing Rouxls with a look. "Now. Tell me what you do know about souls specifically?"

Rouxls's brow could not get higher on his confused face even if he tried, before he slowly bent forward and picked up his own drink. "I...knowest that they art thine life source, and once thine shatter dust mine body will become. Simple as calligraphy."

"And what do you know about the topic of soulmates?"

Rouxls paused cup inches from his lips and gave another confused look at Seam sipping his tea. "...Tis a figure of speech to describe one's love of corseth. Likest when one calls their beloved thee love of thine life." He finally was able to bring the cup to his lips and drink the WAY too sweet marshmallow drink, but he didn't want to be rude. He was raised better than that.

The two men looked at him with different expressions. Jevil's being confused and Seam's being interested with a raised brow. "And exactly who taught you all this?"

He scoffed that famous scoff. "Mine parents. Who else? They taught mineself well..." His eyes glanced off slightly. "..even if some things were...questionable."

Jevil's body stilled and those eyes blinked. His scattered mind suddenly going on blast through his memories as soon as those words left Rouxls's mouth, back days ago on their date. Which seemed strange for the occasion but one line from that day vibrated and bounced back and forth in his mind like a boomerang: "T-They wereth very...traditional of ye olde ways. I guesseth olde habits nay die hard."....That line. THAT ONE LINE!! Made him blink and slowly look up to Rouxls who was still drinking that too sweet drink for his taste buds out of politeness, but soon the worm's eyes looked back down to Jevil once he felt the eyes of the imp on him. The two looked at each other for a moment before his brow rose again.

"What?"

"How tradional, traditional was your family?"

That question caught the other two off guard especially the worm who choked and pounded on his chest. Coughing and gagging before looking back to the smaller jevil. "W-What?!"

His eyes narrowed. "What were they like, like?" He just stared at him for the longest time before looking away and going back to his- Jevil's purple arm grabbed his. H A R D. And those yellow eyes went back to the serious angry pinpricks he first saw when they first met. " Rouxls. I want, want you to tell me. Im not taking, taking no for an answer."

Rouxls...looked slightly horrified and if it wasn't for Seam he might've fainted again. "Jevil! You could've worded it differently...But I also want to know." Rouxls looked to the cat in question as he set down his drink and gave him the same stare as jevil. "Now, then. Perhaps if we explain the REAL reasoning of a soul mate, you'll see why we're so concerned about you."....The worm didn't respond, so he continued. "I'm...not sure where to start, so I'll start from the very beginning you should have been told from the beginning." He loomed over the worm, but when he noticed Rouxls gulp his features softened a lot. And a paw gently placed itself on his chest. Feeling the soft beats of his soul under him. "Your soul is much more than just a second heart. It's a person's very lifesource. Their ...everything." His button spun a few moments thinking. "It's..hard to explain, but that's basically what it is. It's a second us in a sense. It holds one's memories, emotions, life energy-..A whole lot of you that you sometimes don't even know was there." A thought came over him and he pulled his paw away, but still leaned forward to face him. "Sometimes even folks refer to it as their concious. Tell me, have you been, as strange as it sounds, fighting with yourself? Or maybe heard your own inner voice shouting at you?"

Rouxls was staring at him like he had just uncovered all his secrets and laid them on the small coffee table to be examinated for the whole dark world to see. Inner...voices?- Yes...YES!! He had been having those, but he just thought it was his thoughts from his subconcious...Well, with how Seam just described them, they just as well might've been. It was always as this strange part of him was telling him thoughts he was thinking without actually thinking them? Or realizing he was thinking them? If that made any sense. But if he was going on by what he was being told....Was- Was this all true? Could one's soul really follow such mind blowing rules like this?!

He shook his head and looked up at him. "I-...Y-Yes. I-I-I h-havest made contact with such a t-t-thing." His hand was shaking as he pointed to himself. "Twas t-that...m-mineself?"

Seam calmly nodded. "Yes. Your 'concious' as many call it. It's usually that little voice that tells us or makes us feel certain things such as whether they're good, bad, suspicious, or otherwise. And that would seem to explain your sudden outburst and some actions around us." He leaned all the way back into the couch. "But that brings us to the second part of one's soul. They're also your magical source. Letting magic flow throughout your body and letting you do the certain magic is provides depending on the lineage of parent souls that passed down those traits. The more powerful the parents' souls the more unique the magic. Like so-" He snapped one of his paws and a small flame appeared in it. He snapped the other one and defense sewing needles appeared for him to battle. Rouxls gulped again seeing them. The needles glinting from the close flame and making the orange pupil of Seam's one good eye glow bright, giving him a menacing look Rouxls didn't think was possible for him. ...Before Seam willed away all the flames and needles into thin air to give back his calm appearance. "Remember when I explained to you Jevil's magic was soley based on his feelings and it depended on what power that emotion gave him? Well that appiles to everyone in a way. Jevil just happens to be more in tune to that connection because of the amount of power he holds. For everyone it's different. It's what's known as a ESC. Which stands for Emotional Soul Connections. Everyone has their's show up in different ways. For Jevil his ESC shows itself through his powers abilities and his eyes." Jevil gave a small smile before Seam gestured to himself. "My ESC is lied within my very fur. Not much affects me and I can easily repair myself using the calm reassuraces my creator left me behind with. Your's however...." Seam tiltes his head more, button eye spinning wildly. "Your ESC seems to make itself known in the form of your emotional outbursts. I've never met a person who so care freely speaks their mind, especially to someone who could come off as intimidating as Jevil. Which means your soul and your emotions are very strongly connected...A rare thing to find."

"......" Rouxls blinked. Not quite beleiving what he was hearing. "What...W-What haseth that have to doth with soulmates?"

He smiled. "Ah! Im glad you asked. Souls have a strange way of conveying our emotions, because of our ESC's it's also different for everyone. But one of the more important and power emotions is love, but before I get into that I must explain Soul Bonding."

"Soul...bonding?," The worm repeated back confused and curious.

Seam nodded. "It's exactly how it sounds. Soul bonding is when your soul bonds with others you are most compatible with. But all of them are based around the concept of love. The actual feeling. It's the most powerful emotion and therefore Soul Bonds are broken down in three simple catagories." He held up his paw. Three fingers. Each one popping up with each bond as he explained. "Platonic Soul Bonds are the most common. They're the ones that can fade over time or grow into either a Family Soul Bond or a Romantic Soul Bond. Platonic Bonds are for people you geneuinely care about but are people you're not fairly close too or just know. Maybe a boss, an old friend, distant family member- Something like that, and if you get to know the person it has the chance to grow into one of the other two. It's also the only one that truely fades if you and the person drifts apart. Do you understand all I have explained so far?" Rouxls...nodded. All this ESC and soul bonding was...actually starting to make sense. It was still confusing as all light! But...peices were all starting to fall into place as he thought more and more about it, and the more Seam spoke it helped. Seam however nodded and continued. "Ok. Moving on. Family Bonds are just what they sound like and the simplest one to explain. It's basically the love and connections you make with the loved ones you see as family. Mothers, fathers, close friends-.." He tilted his head. "And for you perhaps a certain little King."

Rouxls jumped up and blinked at him, and Jevil seemed to be mirroring his thoughts exactly. So this...ESC thing? It was the reason he was...acting the way he was all the time? His outbursts? His overly high senses of paranoia and feelings?? But then-

"The why art these...f-feelings starting now?"

"Well, to be fair, they were always there. Souls adapt to the different situations and environment that might change the way you feel and see things. But I believe it started when you and Jevil first sparked a long time ago-"

"Spark?"

"It what we call the reaction when someone meets their one..or our case two soulmates. Which brings me to my last bond." He settled back with a sigh and scratched at mane of orange fur around his neck. "Romantic Soul Bonds are...also exactly how they sound. They're the romatic feelings you feel for someone. Which also is the only one of the three bonds that have three catagories. Tempo- Romantic Bonds, None-Bond Romantics, and the more well known ones known as Soul Mates." He once again held up fingers as he named off the catagories and explained. "You see-...Tempo stands for temporarily, so Tempo-Romatic bonds are basically like small crushes or flings you develope for someone then fall apart over time. This can appily for divorced couples as well. None-Bond Romantics are fairly more common, you see. Not everyone has a one..or two true love. And it's perfectly possible for someone to have a soulmate but fall in love and marry someone who isn't their soul mate." Rouxls gave an obviously confused look. "I'll explain in a moment. But None-Bond Romantics are also appiled to those who have trouble developing those emotions because they have absolutely no bond or desire to fall within love. Now the power of lust and love should not be confused with ANY of these bonds. Remember that."

"....Wouldst thou pleaseth get to thine point?"

He chuckled. "But of course. Soul Mates are what I can only describe as a calling of sorts." He shrugged. "Research has found that souls can call out to another soul they have a particularly strong bond with. Doesn't nessacarily have to be romantic. But souls call out to one another all the time even when we don't feel it most of the time. When the romantic compatability of two souls are a perfect match for each other and the owner of those souls make contact, it triggers what's known as a spark. Now like I was saying-" He shrugged back into the seat again and peered at him. " The 'spark' as we call it, happens when the two souls make contact and trigger the approprete response to the romantic bond you two share. Which basically means you will start falling in love with the person you sparked with no matter what....It's a sort of sad fact, but it's something beyond our control as souls are complicated and dangerous to mess with."..Rouxls gulped remembering the many pink hearts tossed at him from Jevil's cell that night- "Which brings me back as to why your soul called out for us." Rouxls blinked back into reality and Seam's face was very, VERY serious. "Like I said. Not everyone has a soulmate, and even if one does have a perfect soulmate they can just as easily fall in love ans be happy without the person being their perfect match. But a few studies have been documented that ignoring these feelings once you do meet your soulmate could become dangerous. And I think that's EXACTLY what you've been doing, Rouxls."

Rouxls froze. Shocked at what Seam had just said to him, and Seam even said his full name, which meant he must've been serious. But looked down in shame as Seam continued.

"Souls are smarter than we give credit for. They hold the feelings we might not even know we have, but that being said, a soul only calls out for another when it's in danger or requires some other form of serious help. You've been forcing yourself to push down these feelings and I think something in your past, by what Jevil explained to me and what you've told us, is causing you to veiw all this in a very serious way.....Will you please tell us why? Duke. We are very concerned for you."

Rouxls just sat there for the seconds ticking by. He could feel the former emotions of guilt and regret coming back at him full speed and his hands gripped the cup in their hold. He couldn't....He COULDN'T tell them about her!! His soul thumped hard. YES! You can..Just tell them! It's WHAT you WANT most! To TELL someone and have them listen and these two WILL listen!! It'll make you feel better!! Just MAN UP AND TELL THEN YOU FOOL!!! I CAN'T!! His eyes slammed shut! I can't tell them about her! I can't say it!! She wouldn't want it!! She would!! She would've wanted you to be happy!! She still cared about you!! Maybe not love you, but she definately didn't not care about you!! Even if it's hard, you HAVE to do this! To get better!! For Lancer!!....His eyes slowly opened half way. ....Lancer? Whar would he do without his father?! You promised her you would look after him, therefore by extintion YOU! You dummy!! Do it for him! Do it for yourself! You won't get hurt this time....They promise-

He jumped and nearly dropped the teacup he was holding when a small purple hand gently grabbed onto his hand and he looked down to see the very..VERY surprising face of Jevil...only it wasn't yellow eyes staring back at him. It was Blue pupils...Which was dripping with sadness in the form of black tears and the shaking lips on his face. Rouxls could only watch as Jevil leaned his head foreward and pressed his forehead against him arm, as a silent plee for him to say something..And he flinched again when a giant soft paw gripped his shoulder and soon he was looking to the worried but calm face of the cat.

"....I promise we will help you any way we can. We really do care for you. Do you trust us?"

His soul throbbed and he knew the answer before it left his mouth. "Yes." He blinked surprised and sighed. Glancing to the small hiccuping imp before layinf back..Jevil still attached to him...."Where doth I start?"

"Anywhere you want. Just tell us everything." Seam sat back into the seat and tried to look composed for these two's sake. "And don't be afraid to hold back any feelings."

Don't hold back huh? Oh boy where does he start with all this free rein he has? TELL. Them. About. HER!! "Alrighteth!!" He shouted making them both jump and stare at him in surprise before he again took a big inhale and let it out shakily. Looking back to the cup in his hands in thought. ".....I...I-I-" GOD!!! He was pathetic. Every fiber wa screaming at him not to say it while at the same time it did. Tell them!! Go on! SAY IT!! DO IT!! N-no...I c-cant. They'll hate me! White tears stung his eyes now as they slammed shut with his screaming body- SAY!! IT!! " M-M-My Queen!! I LOVED HER!!"

************************************************************************************************ The usual blurs of red and pink swirled around and the halls and into the minds of the common and wealthy around the dark world. Infecting their very consciousness on the drunken ecstacy of love so would it seem. The pheromones of roses and fine chocolates seemed endless wafing through the air as an endless stream of love poisoning. It was the grand reason for this very holiday.

Love.

Love can be a powerful thing can it not? He's seen people go to war for the ones they loved. He's seen people do terrible, horrible things in the name of love. It's a powerful emotion. So powerful they had a king named after it after all. But it wasn't just bad things. Good things came from it as well. He'd happily smile at the many happy couples and happy laughter of children running around throwing paper hearts at one another along the halls or happy squeals from the occasional hathy when they receive a love letter or confession from their lovers. It was a beautiful sight he wouldn't deny, but perhaps it might've been a bit much for him sometimes. But on the other hand-

He flipped his hair back and looked back into his mirror. Who could deny his looks? He was rather good looking compared to all the other darkners. Who else had flowing white glowing hair that delicately draped around his perfect eyes and fluttering lashes? Who else could say they had many admires willing to buy something they don't need just to be near him?....Perhaps King Diamonds, but respectfully he was a marvel in his own way. His scales usually sparkled brightly and being the richest of the four kings of course meant he'd have a fair amount of suitors himself hoping to get a piece of his riches and royal status. But the king couldn't compare to the likes of him in other ways. He didn't have the charm or grace he posessed surely. He didn't have the charisma or confidence, or the romantical know-how to woo the lady of his dreams.~ And he had chosen the perfect one to court. Sure. There a few.....difficulties.

One being that she was already courted and dare say.....already married to someone. In technicality he had already lost before he even began, which should've been enough of a red flag for him to stop while he was ahead. To stop himself from doing something stupid- But we all know how the saying goes.

Love is blind.

He had to tell her. Even if she never returned his affections. He could live with the rejection, but he couldn't just keep his emotions about this whole thing up any longer. But he didn't see the consequences to his actions. As he wondered the castle, he found her where exactly he'd thought she'd be. On the balcony looking at the garden below, she really did love the peaceful veiw did she not? So with a deep dreath, he stepped forward. She heard the sounds of arrpouching footsteps and turned to him. Perfect waves of Blue and white curls around her face, plump blue lips, and a golden crown sitting perfectly upon her head. Even though the female darkner wa easily taller than himself by a long shot, she still resembled a fragile procilain doll. So danty and perfect.

He smiled up at her. "G-Greetings, Mine Majesty. I c-cometh with a ...token of mine gratitude towards thee." He smiled and did an elegant bow when he presented the rose bouquet to her. He felt her slowly take them from him and he smiled.

Her face was surprised when he turned up with an assortment of roses he knew she would like. Smile on his features....A frown on her face and worry in her voice. ""Rouxls. You have to stop this. You don't understand what this could do."

He blinked up from his graceful bow to peer up at her. "B-But..Your Highness, I-"

"Rouxls. I know." He blinked and she still frowned at him. "Rouxls. I'm so flattered you think of me so highly, but I love him." He froze..this was not what he had thought through. "And it's mad to be doing this. So I don't want you to do this anymore. Do you understand me?"

A large shadow suddenly fell over the two and he looked up into the black void of anger that was the giant spade. "What is the meaning of this!?" His head tilted from the frozen duke to the flowers his beloved wife held. And it was like adding gas to the fire. "WHAT IS THAT?!" His gaze snapped back to the smaller duke. "ROUXLS KAARD!! YOU TRAITOROUS SCUM!! HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY WIFE WITH SUCH VULGARITY!?"

He stomped forward and the worm could only scramble back as his pupils shrank.

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

The teacup fell to the floor, thankfully not breaking but what was left of the drink spilt out onto the floor by his feet. Those blue hands gripped his hair as the worm leaned forward. The tears finally escaping and pretty white raindrops finally spilt again from those storm cloud eyes. Sobbing and hiccups spilling out in a torment of thunder and lightning to match the rain tears and the storm cloud eyes. Becoming one whole storm like the one that shook the dark lands a few weeks ago. The shaking and noises of his mess making the other two look at him with mixes of shock and sorrow. They could feel the sadness that vibrated within his soul as he cried out and leaned over, Seam had his hands outstretched already in case the worm fainted again or called out, but these emotions as strong as they were, were no where near the literal storm that was the calling of his soul out to their own. Jevil just continued to sit there and watch as the black tears dried, leaving black lines across his cheeks as he watched.

"I-I..I waseth so *hic* stupid!!" He managed to croak out between chokes. It felt like his whole throat was clenching and he didn't want to speak anymore. ...No. Go on! Keep going. It's ok now. You're ok. "I t-t-thought he might've-..W-We could've been-...But NAY! She still loved him even after mineself was p-p-punished for emine crime!! I-I...*HIC* I NEVER wanted to feeleth like that again!! L-Love never again!!"

So...It finally came out. His scars. His fear of them getting near. His outbursts. His promise to look after Lancer. His buried of feelings...All of it came back to his loyaty and devotion to a Queen who had already found her soulmate. And he paid the preprocations of a secret admirer and a jealous husband. He had fallen in love with one who didn't share his feelings. All those buried feelings fighting his own new ones until it all came to a head now. Seam's paws slowly came to place themselves on his shoulders and Rouxls jumped.

"Im...very sorry for your loss. It's quite obvious you must've loved her very much, and beleive me I respect that fully. "

"...*sniff*" His eyes slowly opened half way and he hiccuped again. "Yeah?...W-W-Well I n-n-nay feel like thou does!!" He finally ungripped his head and shakily looked up at the two with a scowl. "A-All this...these...g-g-games to win me over l-likest Im some prize to be..*hic* won at thine fair tis most d-disrespectful of mineself!!" He looked back to his own hands. "I feelest like Im nay anything but a silly e-enternatinment for thou's pleasure and a-as soon as one of thee win..I-I'll best left again with NOTHING!! All this is just a silly game for you two and n-neither haveth never asked how I feel about it!!...H-How doth I knoweth that thou willst n-not...*hic* endest up the same way."

Both of them froze under the accusations of the duke suddenly thrown at them and ...a feeling of guilt settled in. Seam gave a sigh through his nose and slowly removed his paws from the worm. He no longer felt worthy to comfort him like this. " I....*sigh* You are right." Jevil looked to Seam as a frown came over him. "I won't pretend you were wrong and dance around the topic. And for that, we cannot apologise enough. We should have been more considerate." He bowed slightly while giving Jevil a small frown...

And the imp gave a frown as well. "..Y-Yes, yes. " He gave a sad look very similar to a kicked puppy up to Rouxls . "S-S-So sorry..*hic* So sorry."

A small silence fell upon the three, the only noises being the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the clock again. The three of them just sat there for the longest time, before Seam tilted his head back up, looking down at the small mess on the floor from the spilt tea. With a sigh, he leaned back into his chair and lifted his paw, with a flick of the wrist the cup flew into the air and back onto the bed, while out of nowhere a sponge flew over and began to wipe the mess of what tea was spilt to the floor. Rouxls finally moved and leaned back into his own seat and shifted his legs to avoid the working sponge cleaning up. Them all still silent as the sponge flew back to whereever Seam summoned it from and the familar smell of marshmallow hit him. Those eyes blinked and looked up just as the hot kettle floated back over the table, expertly tipping and again filling his cup with the purple, too sweet smelling drink.

"Its..r-rude to give your guest an empty cup."

....Rouxls slowly leaned foreward and reached his shaky hand out. Slowly taking the warm cup in his hands. "T-Thank thee." It was also rude to deny an offered cup of tea given to you, so even if it was too sweet and gave him a less than pleasant after taste, he drank it.

"...But, excuse my bluntness." He leaned forward a little again, crossing his arms. "But I must ask one more thing. Why did you not know anything of this beforehand? It's basic knowlwdge every school teaches every children. It's valuable knowledge to have."

ROuxls once again stopped mid sip,...and a sad look as he looked back down to the cup. "...M-Mine family waseth..tradional-"

"Yes, yes. I remember you saying that in our truth game, game," Jevil piped up blinking at him, "Old fashioned, fashioned they were with their speech you were taught, taught. But now I wonder, wonder if that's all the old ways they taught."

His blue eyes blink to him in confusion and rose a brow. "What doth thou mean?"

Jevil shrugged. "By the way they sound, sound they were not very fond of you making your own choices, choices."

Amother pause from the worm. "....Y-Yes. Yes they were." He sighed and held the warm cup closer. "They ...w-were against any choices of choosing thou's own..w-wife."

That's all they needed to hear. And it sure explained a LOT!! And well....finally...that was it. It was all out in the open. All understood. All said and over. And now the question remains...What now? Now that they all had the puzzle complete, how were they going to start the scrambled peiced of the new one? Which path shall they choose to build with, the three wondered.....Until Jevil spoke up.

"....Would you still, still be against us...being with you?" Both Rouxls and Seam looked surprised to the still upset looking Jester sitting there and staring up at the duke with a knowing look in his eyes. "...I-I..D-Dont want to be , want to be alone again..again. My soul shattered, shattered. Heartbroken, heart broken. Once by my hands..My fault once a-a-again..Please give me a second chance, chance." He begged lightly tugging on his sleeve.

ROuxls rose a brow. "Heartbroken once?...T-Thou hast been i-in love beforeth as w-well?"

''With me." Rouxls brought his attention back to te sad looking Seam who sighed. "Jevil and I...sparked before the knight had come and the king's iron rule. Our..souls were quite shaken by what happened between us long ago." He hummed and reached a paw to rub his chin. "I recken it might be because of that incident we acted the way we did all excited. But it's that still no excuse beleive me. But..perhaps if we were given the chance to start over-..Of course that's entirely up to you. And we promise not to pressure you into any descions. Right Jevil?" The imp egarly nodded.

Start...Over??

The worm's eyes went back to the cup in his hands in thought. Starting over? As in a second chance? ...He would like that actually. And..they did make you happy. He blinked..They did now didn't they? Jevil was..admittedly funny, but frustrating. He liked the way he was determined and ..interesting. He's never been so fascinated by anyone's abilities before. Despite being nearly polar opposites, the two shared more in common than he thought . And Seam...Well he was one thing he always asked for in a person. Patient. Someone who would be patient and listen to him, and unlike Jevil who at times completely blew him off, Seam..Never did once. He would chuckle and not make a big deal of what he said..But he always listened, and tried his best to understand and give his advice when he needed it..And he acually went out of his way to help him. He was the complete opposite of himself-....Actually. Now that he thought about it, all three of them were pretty much opposites of each other. Each one having something else to balance them out. They were...almost a perfect set to rebound off one another...He chuckled. Oh how funny fate could be. The other two men heard that chuckle and watched in anticipation as Rouxls finally looked up at them..A small smile on his face.

"I...wouldst liketh to start over very much."...Jevil's face to the regular Jevil fashion broke out in that typical happy grin and his tail thumped against the bed. Rouxls gulped down the rest of his tea and placed the tea cup back down before Jevil latched onto him in his typical hug fashion and burried his face into his side..Rouxls stared at him for a moment before slowly patting his back. Before looking to Seam. "..But..p-perhaps we shall begin a bit more...s-slowly this time?"

...Seam chuckled. Becoming more happy looking and smiling. "But of course. Im glad we could all come to an agreement we all like. And in return we promise not to step over any lines before asking you."

"Agreed, agreed!!"

"But..Duke." Seam gave a small frown again. "Perhaps..You should take the next few days off to relax. You went through quite a lot."

"What?! N-Nay! I still haveth thine ball to helpest with and..and everything else!"

"Topchef, Topchef is a professional." Jevil looked up from his side smiling. "He has cooked in rush, rush jobs before and has succeeded. Why do you think, think I sent you to him in the first place? Trust him. Let him, him perform his work, work."

His brow rose. "And Lancer?"

"Leave him in the care of me for one more day. I promise I shall take care of him."

"But..thou a-also needs rest-"

"My magic supplies me with endless energy. And resting even for a small bit replenishes it fast, fast. Trust me."

"Jevil has a point." Seam waved his hand and the three cups from before disappeared in thin air. "And you must rest before it is my turn to spend sometime with you. Surely you have not forgotten."

"Of course not-"

"Then it's settled. You shall rest tomorrow, and Jevil shall take over tomorrow. Do not worry. Everything will be fine."

Rouxls still looked uncertain..but sucked in a deep breath before letting it out and sighing. He was right. He just had to relax and stop worrying now. See? You feel much better now that you talked about it. You did it. No more cowering or painful burried secrets. And you're ok. His smile became must more prouder and he would've gone to thank himself too-...If a screech hadn't suddenly rang out causing him to jump and look around wildly for the source of the sound. A small blur came sliding in from the opposite shop room and stopped just in front of them!...Oh...It was just Mak. The small child was well groomed and their suit was very neatly tucked in and arranged. Much better from the last time he saw them wear it. Seam chuckled and clapped his paws again at their little pose as Rouxls breathed a sigh of releif. But Jevil blinked...before pointing at them.

"Is..Is that, that my suit?"

"Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you. I fixed it but it shrank in the wash. So I let Mak have it."

"You WHAT?!"

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kayuripax · 4 years

Text

“”Coffee Shop AU”: Cursed mask

Another story for @doodledrawsthings‘ “””Coffee Shop AU”, this time for the off-shoot branch where MJ ends up Majora Masked. This did not leave me alone, and I needed to write this out. The story includes one picture, and mentions mak’s Subconite Cherry, my Subconite Maya, and @greentrickster‘s Subconite Lime.

„Can’t wait for next Friday.” MJ raised an eyebrow at the exclamation of the small group of teenagers in front of him.

“Next Friday?”

“Yeah, Mr. MJ. Its Halloween then, and we,” one of the teens gestured around, “want to make a group costume. Lime and I have been sewing for weeks now, and it’s coming along well.” A blinding grin from all the teens followed that statement.

“Halloween already? Time sure flies.” MJ grinned back. “Can I ask what you want to dress up as?”

“That’s a secret until next week. You gotta wait just like everyone else!” Cherry chuckled, before grabbing their drink from the counter, leaving a bit of money, and running outside.

“Can’t wait then!” MJ called after them while handing out the remaining drinks. A moment later, when all the teens had left the shop, he began to grin to himself. Maybe he could convince Luka to actually go out on that day, without him having to pay much attention to his looks. He had to tell Clover first though, she had to help him convince that noodle-man.

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“You… want me to go out on Halloween.” Luka sounded like he was doubting MJ’s intelligence at that moment.

“I mean, yeah, why not? Halloween is literally the one day in the year where no one would really pay attention to you looking a bit weird. As long as you stay in a shape that could convincingly be a costume, you could basically run around as you are.” The answer came promptly, and with a raised eyebrow.

“Glowing eyes are not inconspicuous, MJ. Neither is me floating.” Luka grouched, coiling up a bit more in his room.

“There are more than enough costumes with glowing parts, man.” Clover piped up from her corner, where Hattie was showing her something, presumably a costume she had been preparing for Halloween. “MJ’s not wrong, Halloween is the one day where no one would care what you look like. If it makes you feel better, we could all dress up in a group thing, like your Cult.”

“They are not my Cult, Clover, they’re a group of teens that meets up in the forest.” Luka whined, hiding his face in embarrassment. The golden glow was still very much noticeable.

“Try to convince yourself of that, why don’t you.” She countered with a smirk. “But really, I think we could manage something for that, a group costume thingy. Get Hattie and Bonnie in on it as well, they wouldn’t mind.”

“I really wouldn’t, Dad! Pleeeaaase?” Hattie piped in just then, puppy eyes on full force.

“See, even your daughter wants you to go out.” MJ grinned. For a moment it was silent, then Luka groaned loudly, the sound echoing, before nodding.

“Fiiiine. You three are horrible people, but I see what I can do.” He said without much heat behind his words, and a tiny smile on his face.

“See, was that so hard?”

“Shut up, Moon Moon.”

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In the end they decided on a theme that Hattie eagerly called “Spooky Subcon”. She suggested that Luka could just go slightly more humanoid than his usual Noodle-shape, but still very much like his Snatcher-form. Luka groaned at that name, not for the first time wondering why on earth he had to become the local Mothman equivalent. Clover was next, and had decided to go for something vaguely like a haunted statue, citing that while she wasn’t naturally spooky, she could very much dial it up on the Weeping Angel vibe from Dr. Who. Hattie was very much on board with that idea, before declaring that she and Bonnie would dress up as adventurers who deal with all the “Spooks” of Subcon Forest. That made all the adults chuckle a bit. When everyone turned to MJ though, he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“I’m not sure what I’d go as yet. Not really. I haven’t worn a costume since… well, ever since that one disastrous office party shortly after the shop opened.”

“Oh? You gotta tell me more about that.” Luka grinned widely, the glowing, fanged grin on his face almost cartoonish.

“I’d rather not, but knowing you you won’t stop prying anyways…” He coughed before continuing, face red. “I don’t even know why anymore, but the boss wanted everyone to come in costumes, and I went with the first thing I found on the attic, which was a Prince-costume. It, uh… didn’t survive the night that well. It’s very much ragged now.”

“You can use that, MJ!” Hattie exclaimed. “You could go as a prince-ghost!”

“A… Prince-ghost.” A raised eyebrow.

“Yeah! Maybe you can become more spooky by wearing a mask, and maybe wearing something alongside that outfit! Bracelets or something like that.” MJ thought over that for a moment.

“I guess I could do something like that. I have this old mask on the attic, I found it when… getting new supplies for my charms.”

“You mean when you stole bones.”

“Shut it, Clover. Anyways, it’s been lying on the attic for a while, and it looks pretty weird, so it would work for this, I think.” He rubbed his chin. “I mean, not much that could go wrong there. Worst thing that can happen is, that the costume is eaten by moths.”

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Turns out, there was a lot that could go wrong with the costume MJ had “planned”. Finding the components was not the problem. That appeared later. When he did find the mask though, a shudder ran down his back.

“I forgot how creepy that thing looks…” He muttered, wiping some dust from it. Slightly chipped, light blue paint was revealed, alongside some red stripes and fangs made from actual bones. MJ had enough experience with that to recognize it in a heartbeat. “I really wonder how old it is… A few years at least.” He turned the mask around while mumbling, noticing that the leather strip for holding it in place was still very much intact. “Well, at least I won’t have to replace that.” He got up with a slight groan, back cracking, before grabbing all the clothes and turning to the door. As he went downstairs, he missed the glint of the mask’s eyes.

No twenty minutes later he stood in front of his mirror, tugging at the ragged sleeves of the jacket in slight disdain. “That fit better last time…” He huffed, then shook his head and grabbed the mask lying on the cupboard next to the mirror. “Alright, here goes nothing. Let’s hope I can actually see out of it…” He held the mask up, before pulling the leather strip over his head. The moment the mask touched his face, another shudder ran through him. MJ coughed, then gasped. His head ached, his vision swam, and he felt his knees give. His hands clung to the cupboard, his nails dug into the wood, making grooves in it. He tried to breathe in, but he couldn’t, something was blocking the air from actually reaching his lungs. He coughed, scratched at the mask, only to scream when he could feel it, the sounds horribly disjointed and piercing. He fell to his knees, hands scrabbling at the sides of the mask, only to grasp at nothing. More pain shot through his head, then through his whole body. He managed to look into the mirror at some point, only to rear back in panic. He did not wear a mask, not anymore. Chains and manacles were wrapped around his wrists, wrists that were way too thin and gaunt, and most of all blue. He screamed in fright, the strange and yet horrifyingly similar visage in the mirror contorting itself. He scooted backwards, then watched in horror how his legs began to disappear. He could still feel them, and he was thankful for it, but they were wholly invisible, trousers, shoes and all included. When he tried to grasp at them, his hands managed to go through them, and another unearthly wail freed itself from his throat. This was not how he wanted his Halloween to go, not at all. MJ looked around, then tried to get up, out of the house. He needed to find Luka; he knew how to deal with sudden shapeshifting! Luka should know how to help him, right?

---------------------------------------___________________________________--------------------------------------

Frantic knocking on the door followed by frantic yelling was not something Luka had expected this early on the Halloween evening, and for a moment he was entertained to coil up until whoever yelled went away. At least he was, until he heard the actual contents of the yelling, and identified the voice as MJ’s.

“LUKA THATCHER PRINCETON; OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!” Almost on instinct, ingrained from his mother yelling the exact same words, Luka’s mane bristled in shock, and he hurried to the door.

“Coming, MJ!” the moment the door opened, Luka was bowled over by a blue and red blur, and the door was shut noisily.

“Luka, you need to help me! That mask, it.. it.. it did something to me!” MJ sounded close to crying, and it took Luka a moment to answer while he took in the sight of his colleague.

“Holy… MJ? That you?” Luka took in the sight of the quivering mess of a person in front of him. It reminded him vaguely of his friend and co-worker, but at the same time it was very much different, and more in line with, as disturbing as it sounded, a person that had frozen to death at some point.

“Of course that’s me! It’s that damn masks fault! I found it on the attic and tried on that costume I thought of for tonight, and then, I don’t know how, this happened!” MJ threw his arms out, the chains on them rattling noisily. Luka’s eyes widened at that, his fur bristling in shock.

“The Mask? MJ, you have no legs! How on earth… Wait, how did you even get here without anyone seeing you? And are you alright? Except the, you know, obvious?” MJ’s breath hitched at that, and he shivered.

“I have no idea… I can still feel my legs, for your information, but they’re… invisible and intangible, it seems…” He awkwardly rubbed his arms. “As for not being seen… I… kind of have a talent for that? You don’t want to be seen when carrying bones for crafting.” A facepalm from Luka followed that statement.

“Well, I guess that skill did come in handy…” He sighed, then grasped MJ’s shoulder before leading him into the living room. “Sit down for a moment, I’m getting you something to drink. I know how you’re feeling right now. I’m gonna send Hattie to get Clover, I think she should know about this.”

“Good idea…” MJ shook his head slightly. “This… is messed up. I shouldn’t t have picked up that damn mask…”

“Hindsight is 20/20. I shouldn’t have drunk whatever Vanessa ordered, but we can’t change it now. Only work from here, MJ. HATTIE! Come here for a moment.” Not a moment later, the sound of small feet hitting the ground became audible, and Hattie skid to a halt in front of them both.

“MJ?” She tilted her head at the sight of him. He gave a small wave in return. Hattie blinked for a while before looking at her father. “Dad, do I need to get Clover?”

“Please do that, Kiddo. I think we need all hands on deck here.”

“Alright, I’m back in five.” She called, before running out of the door. For a moment, silence fell, then Luka curled up somewhat next to MJ.

“So… want to talk about it?”

“’s not like I have a big choice here, it’s that or silence…” MJ groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Does… does it always hurt like that when you change?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid to ask.

“Only the first time. Never after that. Something I’m rather glad about. Once is enough.” Luka answered truthfully.

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to… well, feel pain all the time when you change.” MJ awkwardly rubbed his horn, then asked another question. “Do you think this can be reversed?”

“We can certainly try. Masks are made to be put on and taken off after all, there should be a way to do it.” Luka put one hand on MJ’s shoulder. “Try not to dwell on it for long, we will get this, you hear?” A small smile graced MJ’s face at that, and he nodded. “Good.”

---------------------------------------___________________________________--------------------------------------

“So… That happened.” Clover said after a moment of silence after MJ told them what had happened after he put the mask on. “MJ, please do us a favor and burn the Cursed Mask the moment we get that thing off you.” Her tone left no room for arguments, and that she looked very much like a person halfway turned into stone thanks to the magic of make-up helped with that.

“Believe me, that’s first on the list of things I’ll do after this is over.” MJ replied dryly, picking at the manacles around his wrists.

“Does this mean we can’t go out today?” Hattie piped up quietly, wringing the cape of her costume in her hands.

“Oh Kiddo…” Luka started, then looked at the other two adults. “I…”

“As long as someone here can lend me a set of pants or something I can use to conceal the fact that my legs are pretty much invisible and intangible, I can deal. I got the breakdown out of my system earlier.” MJ added, smiling at Hattie. “After all, we promised it to you and Bonnie, didn’t we? Who knows, maybe she has an idea how to get that mask off.” That made Hattie cheer, and she quickly ran into her room, coming back with some yellow cloth that was roughly the same colour as the undershirt MJ still wore.

“We can make that longer, then it looks as if you wear a robe!”

“Not a bad idea, Hattie. We could do that pretty quickly, I think.” Luka hummed.

“Let me do that. No offense Hattie, but you don’t sew as cleanly as I can, and you currently have four fingers in total, Luka.” Clover said, before grabbing MJ and the cloth. “Get me needle and thread, and this is over in ten minutes tops,” she declared.

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The evening was spent in a thankfully rather relaxed manner. Luka ended up making himself look only vaguely humanoid, the robe-solution for MJ’s leg problem worked, and pretty much everyone liked their “costumes”. Bonnie was a bit shocked when she was told what happened to MJ, but offered the possibility that the mask could be taken off after the night was over. After a moment of thinking, it was accepted as a possible solution, after which the demand for candy became loud enough that the group began moving. They ended up encountering the “Snult” along the way, all of them dressed up in the same costume, their heights being the only way to discern who was who.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” MJ asked after a moment of looking the costumes over. Lime and Maya had done pretty good work with the costumes, in his opinion.

“We’re the Subconites! The Loyal Minions of the Snatcher!” came the almost cacophonous reply of over 20 teenagers at once, and Luka looked a bit bewildered, touched, and embarrassed all at once. “That’s a cool costume by the way, Mr. MJ.” Cherry said after a moment, giving the man a thumbs up.

“Oh, thank you.” MJ laughed a bit awkwardly.

“You look like a cryptid. You need a cryptid name now.” One of the subconites said. “MOONJUMPER!” another yelled promptly.

“Moonjumper? Why Moonjumper?”

“Well, because MJ.” Came the prompt reply, said in a tone that suggested a lack of belief in MJ’s intelligence.

“I… guess I can’t say anything against that.”

---------------------------------------___________________________________--------------------------------------

The night ended with little fanfare, but a lot of candy. People thought the group costume with the two kids was adorable, and the candy given as pseudo-payment was plenty for it. Bonnie was allowed to sleep over at Hattie’s and Luka’s house that night, and after not even a moment of hesitation MJ and Clover followed suit and slept over as well. Once they all piled up in a rather comfortable cuddle pile, it did not take long for them all to fall asleep. Luka was an excellent and rather warm and comfy snake-ghost-thing, a fact he was not unaware of. It was at about 6 in the morning when MJ woke up again though, his entire body itching and shuddering. He blinked a few times after opening his eyes, noticing that his sight really did not get better, and automatically groped for his glasses, only to notice that he didn’t have them with him. Then the events from yesterday caught up, and his hands flew to his face. He could’ve cried in relief when his hands found the edge of the mask, and he almost tore it from his face.

“You gave me a lot of trouble.” He hissed at it, the almost leering grin and decorated eyes on the wood staring back without an answer. “Can’t wait to throw you into the fire.” He huffed, chucking it into a corner before curling up again. It was too damn early for this, and it was not as if the mask could run away. By closing his eyes, he missed the mask’s eyes gleaming once more, the grin seemingly growing wider, before freezing once more, becoming nothing more than old wood and bone. Hours later, it was thrown into a bonfire, and the ashes scattered into the winds. Nothing remained, no wood, no leather, no teeth made of bone. Only ashes on the wind, never to be seen again. The Mask was gone for good.

#ahit #ahit 'coffee shop au'#The snatcher #moonjumper #hat kid #bow kid #subconites #subconite cherry #subconite lime #subconite maya #the florist #Some body horror courtesy of MJ #MJ gets majora masked and is very unhappy #is the mask sentient? No one knows #and now no one ever will.

173 notes · View notes

occultdreamland · 4 years

Text

Find the Right Card -- 1

He stands at the entrance of your small abode, presence all consuming and demanding of your attention. By the colorful robes draped over his shoulders, to the many rings that adorn his fingers; you need not have an idea of who he is to know him.

“Come. Sit down.” Your voice breaks the steady silence, the whisper of calm breeze the only other that accompanies you. His eyes are only on you as he sits, graceful as one of those show horses you see from time to time. “What brings you here, My Prince? To such a place outside of your own, I’ll specify.”

“Your name is on the tongues of many under my employment. I wonder what a witch has collected so much of my mens’ spare time,” He says, his eyes cold and never leaving yours. It brings a chill to your spine.

You give him a pointed stare; “A witch I am not. Scryer is a better, healthier term for me.”

There is a pregnant silence.

He tilts his head to the side, jutting his jaw out in a way that you can discern as unjustified arrogance, “Tell me, what is it that those soldiers do to speak of you so highly.”

“They tell me their name before they dare enter my dwelling, as a start,” you quip, letting your gaze break from his as you gather your collection of markless tarot decks, displaying them in front of him, eyes now expectant on his pale face. “Be my guest, however, and pick the one that draws you in. Don’t dwell too long, they like to tell their own story. A story that may not be what is the truth.”

“I believe I came here for an answer, not a story, wench.”

“Is a story just as viable as an answer, My Prince?” You bite your tongue at the name he bestowed upon you, but it is not unusual for men to say such things.

Finally, his eyes break from you, and the relief you feel is insurmountable. He is quick to pick a deck, two fingers laid lightly on top of it as he pushes it toward you. You hum, a lick of a smile reaching your lips. While not your best deck, it certainly suits him. Cleaning away the other decks, you open the one he presented to you, scattering them around the table in a circle, making a mess of the card order and bringing them back into a clean stack.

“What type of spread will you be requesting, My Prince?”

“I asked for information, and I shall receive information. Will I have to tell you any differently to get what I want?” He says.

You raise your head in acknowledgement. You begin to release the cards into the spread you have chosen, all ten cards set into their positions, with the second card being placed on top of the first and the other eight others being placed where they belong.

The Princes’ eyes sit on the spread, dissecting the back of every card as if he already knows what they are.

Your fingers rest on the card beneath another, and you carefully reveal what it is. It’s the Knight of Coins; reversed. “This is the present card. Tell me, what does this card tell you?”

He scowls and rolls his eyes. “It tells me that I’ll be riding a horse. Staring into the horizon with my sword drawn.”

“That’s what you see. I want to know what this card tells you.”

“How will I know what the card tells me when I do not know what it means?”

You cock your head to the side with an expectant huff. “This spread tells of your past, present, future, with your past and present challenges, and the outcome. This one tells of your present, and the card speaks of wasted energy and money. What does that tell you?”

“It tells me that you’re a waste of my time.”

You laugh, something that surprises you. “If I am a waste of your time, you can always leave, my Prince.”

But he doesn’t budge. And he stares at you. Again.

“I will let you think for a moment. It’s always good to reminisce on this card.”

Another beat, and he still looks at you like a caged and hungry dog stares at a slab of meat. You continue, lifting the card that had sat on top. “The challenge, the Magician reversed. My Prince, to be up front, what have you to lose? A loved one, your position in the court, maybe the power over the men you command in these dire times?”

This card speaks to you, this time, telling you that you have many, many things to lose shall you upset this man. However, you also know that he hears the same thing, the way the energies between him and the card bend and wave before your eyes.

Finished with his speedy introspection, he looks up at you, his eyes demanding a continuance of this process. You lift the third card, it sits to the left on the two card pile, and it tells you of the past. The Empress, and you tell him as much. “Nature is our mother, she is a mother to me just as she is to you. It seems you have been a disobedient prince, and she will correct your actions like a mother would to her own child.” It was a risky jab at him, but said in light humor. It doesn’t seem to bother him; his skin as steel as his own blade.

Next is the future. The upright hierophant. “Ah, something that should please you greatly, my Prince. You will be a great scholar, and if not that a man of great intellect.”

“I am already a master of the blade, what else do I have to accomplish in my life?” He says, baring his teeth as if the card insulted him.

“But are you a master of politics? Of the on-goings in the court and the well-being of the people you will rule over? Or of the briars that line your great castle gardens? There are many things outside of war, my prince.”

You turn over the next card, goals and aspiration, a reversed ace of wands. It tells you what you already know. “You are resisting change, resisting the thing that brings you to the best outcome.”

He bites down on what you assume is a fiery retort, and you let it slide. He is beginning to taste bitter; a sign that he is up to no good in your home.

“Have you any say, my Prince?”

“None that concerns you, lowlife.”

Yet you continue, your drive of knowledge on this man a once in a lifetime deal. This card is the foundation of him, what makes him who he is and what drives him to his goal. Nine of Cups, upright. You pull a face(How immature of you! You were trained better than this!) and it upsets the Prince.

“I now know why my men are so enamored with you, now,” he barks, standing from his seat so fast that it knocks it over right onto a case of valuable oddities, making you stand as if you are fast enough to catch a falling section of the wall, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach, “Your sorcery will be punished, witch! And do not think that my words are as empty as those cards. We will make sure that your presence will leave this town like you never existed--you and your collection of harlots!”

Your eyes widen, and for the first time in years, you feel what it is like to know an abyss of fear.

~~~

Those armored men, the men under the name of Prince Maksimillian, destroyed your home, tore apart every tapestry and crystal and orb in your possession, burned your books and every tarot they grabbed their hands on. You remember screaming at them, restrained in the bruising metal grips as they tried to secure you into the carriage filled with all of the other scryers and readers in your village, weeping at the destruction of their home and from being torn from their families.

It took two men to restrain you, and a third to knock you out after threatening to curse them and their children after you saw a bag of your cards being thrown into the growing pit of flames.

You sit in the corner of a crowded cell, shackled, curled with your knees to your chest with an elderly woman pressed against you. You had given her an odd stare before, but her old eyes only blindly mistook you as her young grandchild. Even then, the cell was pressed for space, maybe twelve people shoved in here. Most of them women, you count three heads of men, two of whom mere children.

You all sit there for maybe two days, there is no light here, but the guards rotate shifts at about an hour and a half each… the math kind of ends there, though. You’re a seer! Not a mathematician! It all confuses you to the point you start to doubt the time from the start til they begin to take out women and it becomes more spacious in the cell.

By the end of one of the guards shifts, where there are only five others beside you in that cell, a man in silver armour seemingly grabs you from the room, holding you by your chains, pulling you along the dim corridors. He takes too many turns, definitely a mistake in the construction of the building, and it wouldn’t surprise you that this level of the jail was meant for that. You aren’t surprised execution is about to come to you, but the screams of men and women that puncture your ears startle you to near tears.

But you are drawn away from those horrible noises, at some point, and then taken up many, many flights of stairs, taking you higher and higher until you stand in a gold gilded room, the High King’s Throne empty while Prince Maksimillian obtains the smaller throne right of his fathers. He lounges on it, a leg propped up on the knee of the other with a hand lazily holding a goblet. He looks pleased to see you.

“You finally brought the right one,” he says, and it’s the first time you hear a humorous tilt in his voice. It’s not directed to you, of course, but to your guide, your escort. The prince raises an eyebrow, a face he must make often because the knight releases you and leaves.

The doors slam shut, and you are left alone in this vast room with the prince.

You are unsure of what to do, for the first time in a while.

Prince Maksimillian takes a long sip from his drink. “Do you know why you are here?”

“N-No, my Prince-”

“I do.” He is blunt, but relaxed, languid. “And I don’t want to tell you.”

“My Prince-”

A smile graces his lips, and you wonder if you said something wrong, “I don’t like such formalities. Maksimillian will be fine. Maks even better.”

“M-Maksimilian, my Prince- why am I here?” You ask, a tremor in your voice.

“You intrigue me, scryer.”

He doesn’t even know your name!

“And you are of a breed I have never been introduced to. One with the spirits, with the unseen. You are a seerer, and an elegant one at that. It’s something that this court needs to show them the things that they have never seen before.” He accentuates himself with the waving of his cup, “And not only that, but my father - oh, my father - needs help that only you can provide. Well, not just you, but you were chosen out of all of those old hoots and hags. Hand picked- by me! An honor most of our knighted will never see out of me.”

There is a silence that sits between the two of you. You are speechless, and you wish you had your personal tarot with you to separate and divide these emotions to make sense of what’s going on. But all of that was burned, gone in ash. It will take you years to accumulate what you had before, the connection with your crystals melted and the love you and your decks shared now gone, soot a black snow in your river side village.

“But…” you whisper, looking down on the floor, unable to hold his interested gaze. It’s the first time he seems to take an interest in your words, “You destroyed my decks, the thing that made me the thing you saw. I can’t just… take a new deck and expect to be the same. They had personalities! That’s why that deck had called out to you, because it knew what you are, and could tell us the closest truth of you and your objective. I can’t get the same result without getting back what I lost...”

Maksimillian huffs, “I am the first born son of the High King of Rosodour, the face of the wealthiest Kingdom of the land. I can assure you that there will only be the highest quality materials bought for your shows.”

You stutter, eyes widening in disbelief. “My abilities are not a show!”

“Your presentation is, however,” Maksimillian continues, now leaning forward, his elbows propped against his knees as he places the goblet next to his feet, “I can give you back what you lost in the round-up, but all I ask is that you soothe the hearts of the people in my court even if it risks doing more harm than good in the long run.”

“I can’t accept this!”

“I was not asking you.”

“Prince Maksimillian, this isn’t right!” You plead, almost dropping to your knees, “Even if I do as you say, regain the trust of all of those cards, I won’t be able to live as a fraud! Like one of those harlots in the brothels!”

He sighs and buries his face in his hands, “Accommodations have been made for you. I can show you to your room, or I can have one of the maids or servants take care of you. I will send for someone to take note of what you need for your craft.”

#yandere x reader #yandere prince x reader #yandere royalty x reader #royalty x reader #x reader #oc x reader #my writing #find the right card

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

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Can I just request Hacker and Aria 🥺 it doesn't matter what point they're in, in their friendship/relationship .. nor the scenario 🥺

The Hacker x Aria- Sensitive Grounds

Ahhhh yes! I love to ship these two! 😍

Aria belongs to @slassher-addict

The Hacker/Erron belongs to me

His life was sometimes oh so complicated, that was how the Hacker accepted that it would be, but looking over his shoulder at the black sleeping beauty, he sometimes wondered if he felt more like a baby-sitter than a very good friend.

Normally, if a beautiful girl was drunk he would make the most out of it, but Aria wasn't just a normal dumb bimbo or a cheap hooker. She turned out to be his best friend and not only because she shared similar bloody hoobies like his.

She was smart, funny, feisty even and oh so gorgeous. He internally groaned and told himself that things wouldn't go further than some funny flirting here and there. She wasn't the type and he sure as hell wasn't her type.

The lack of sleep was another problem, he hadn't slept in almost two days and the bright screen of his computers were starting to make his eyes behind the mask ichy.

A groan resounded from behind him and he looked at Aria, waking up in his bed at the other side of the room.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." he said as he turned his chair around.

Her dark eyes opened and she looked at him, then down at her, making sure she was still dressed and nothing was suspicious.

"Did we...?" she asked, just to make sure.

The Hacker rolled his eyes behind the mask and got up from the chair and into the kitchen.

"Jeez, doll. No...... You passed put after a douchebag put something into your drink." he replied, then came back with a glass of water for her.

He could tell she was surprised, usually she was so vigilent and always on her toes. Well, not always.

"Anyway. I ordered some breakfast. It should be delivered in just a few minutes." Erron alias the Hacker told her with crossed arms over his chest.

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of the water.

"Well aren't you prince charming?" she asked with a smile and Erron didn't said anything, just left to go into the kitchen.

The dark skinned girl stretched her arms above her head and decided to leave the warm bed to start the new day. It was the weekend after all.

When she entered the kitchen she noticed his hoodie on one of the chairs, leaving Erron in a black t-shirt. It was rare that he showed skin and it was probably just the second time she saw him like that, tattoos littering his forearms and biceps.

"You know you should take your hoodie off more. Your tattoos are beautiful." Aria said as she took a seat, observing him.

"I know, doll." he smugly said and she just rolled her eyes at his arrogant self.

He sometimes could be such a jerk, always with his all high and mighty brain, suave and perssuasive self, but he showed also a caring side towards her. She knew how much of a womanizer he was, flirting here and there, hooking up with desperate girls, going to brothels.

Still, with her all he did was just innocent flirting and never crossed lines. Maybe she wasn't his type? Not attractive enough? Not sexy enough? Was she ugly?

"I am ugly?" she finally asked and he stopped as he poured himself and her two cups of Coffee.

"What are you talking about?" Erron asked, turning around and she could tell by how tense his muscels were that he was frowning behind the mask. His body language spoke alot of his emotions.

"Do you think... Maybe... I am beautiful?" Aria asked, looking intently at him.

"Of course you are. You are gorgeous. Where this sudden lack of self esstem came?" Erron asked, curious about what has gotten into her. She was usually so confident in herself, walking with her head up and all proud.

She couldn’t possibly tell him that she had a problem with him not making steps towards her, after all she made it clear how things with her in a relationship were and he kept it to himself, respecting her boundaries.

"No reason." she murmured and he sighed, handing her the warm cup of coffee.

"Make yourself at home. I have work to do." he simply told her and exited the kitchen.

Her eyes lingered on his back and to his spikey brown hair, broad shoulders. She had to admit he was attractive, even though she hadn't seen his face yet, his personality was attractive, somehow. It was something about the Hacker that you love and hate at the same time and that's what Aria felt.

She sipped on her coffee and remembers the times she was here and brought girls for a good time. Yes, jealousy was a word for what she felt back then, but she told herself she shouldn't. They weren't together.

The Hacker sat down on his chair again and groaned. How could she ask him such a thing? If she was ugly? She was absolutly stunning, so much that he wanted to have her bend over and-... No! They were very good friends and she wasn't the type of girl to do so.

Later that day Aria went to the library to get some books and also meet with a friend who enjoyed reading as much as her. He was a middle aged gentleman who was so afraid to speak with girls he found in Aria a nice fresh of air. They had some lunch and spoke of hystory, it was a good time, but it looked like time sure flys fast and it started to get dark.

"It was an upmost pleasure for your time! Maybe next time we can discuss about this new mystery novel that is going to come out next month." the man told Aria and she nodded grinning, then they waved goodbye.

Aria now was on her way to Errons penthouse. She was staying there until the renovations of her own home. She was Glad she could count on him at anytime of the day or night. She finally got into the elevator and waited for it to get her onto the last floor. Exiting, she stepped down the hallways to Errons penthouse. She was close to the door and saw it open, a woman exiting it, her red hair straight and pink lips stretching into a smirk at her.

Aria ignored it all and went inside, seeing Erron smoke a cigarette through the hole in the maks where his mouth is.

"So, I guess you got yourself busy while I was gone." Aria said, as she started to pull her books out of her bag and onto the kitchen counter.

"Ehh.... She was good, but couldn't suck a dick to save her life." he replied making Aria cringe.

"Don't wanna know." she said, pulling her hand in front of her face.

"Hey, you are the one who induced the subject. So, how was the date with the slimball?" Erron asked as he crossed his arms over his bare chest.

Aria just now noticed he was half naked, the dragon tattoo on his pectoral visible, but she could care less, because the way he spoke was kind of rude.

"It actually went fine. He is quit lovely actually." Aria spoke, and his response was that he crushed what was left of his cigarette in his hand.

"I am sure you two make a fucking cute couple." The Hacker snarled and that's when Aria couldn't hold her anger more.

"What is your problem?!" she screamed at him and he moved towards her.

She wasn't afraid, he wouldn’t hurt her and even if he did, she could over power him easily.

"My problem!? That skunk is all sweet and nice just to get into your pants." he told her, his masked face away from her own by just a few inches. She glared up at him and put her hands on her hips, not backing down.

"Why do you care? From the looks of it, you have one hell of a time with each women that steps into this place." she spoke, poking his chest with her finger.

He swallowed down and in his fit of anger he ripped his mask off and threw it against the wall, breaking it. He huffed and had his back turned to her. He was finally after months bare before her, well except for his pants, but his face was the most intimate part of himself. He felt vulnerable without it.

He looked over his shoulder at her and she finally took a glimpse of what he looks like; high cheekbones, plush lips and grey eyes. He was handsome, she had to admit and she noted that he looked like any average guy.

"What?!" he snarled at her and she rolled her eyes, not afraid of him.

"Nothing." she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looked away.

Erron sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose turning fully at her and looking at her.

"Look... I am sorry for all of this. It was dumb of me to be jealous." he finally admited and he wished he could take that back.

Aria looked at him with wide eyes and a confused look.

"You were jealous? You mean..." she asked and she internally grinned in victory when she saw a slight pink blush on his cheeks as he looked down.

"Don't mention it.... But lets not act like you are all innocent here. You were pretty jealous of these women you talked about." And again the smug jerk returned, making Aria shake her head, her dark afro hair bouncing.

"Oh shut up!" Aria said, glaring playfully at him.

He stepped closer to her with a smirk.

"Make me." he told her and before they both realized what was happening they kissed, her arms wrapped around his neck and his arms around her waist.

The kiss wasn't like anything Aria expected. She expected something roughish, brutal even, but it was actually gentle, slow and sensual. It was such a different side to him.

After some moments they both pulled away and looked at eachother, like they couldn't believe that this was happening. It felt so unreal.

"You should sleep." Aria finally broke the silence, motioning to the bags under his eyes. He chuckled and pressed his lips against her forehead.

The Hacker was a stubborn one, but he had to admit that its been quit long since he slept in his own bed. His back ass starting to hurt from taking naps in his chair at the desk.

"Come on, go to bed. I will come back, I just need to change into some comfortable clothes." Aria told Erron and he nodded, moving towards his bedroom, then it hit him.

He was gonna share a bed with Aria. Usually, he slept into his chair and left his bed all for her, mainly for her own privacy and respect. The dark girl came back into a pair of white shorts and tank top. He gulped down as he saw her. It wasn't the first time she showed so much skin, but this time it felt slighly different, it felt almost sexual.

She got up onto the bed and moved under the covers with him, peeking his lips and offering him a good night, then turned off the lights.

If the Hacker was tiered before, now it was like a lightning struck him, because sleep was out of the calculum now.

"Are we together now?" he finally broke the silence and asked. Aria moved to turn around and looked into the dark at him.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Just making sure. That's all. I do care, you know." he spoke in a soft voice, his arms wrapping around her, making her squeak but welcome the warmth.

This was a total surprise. Aria knew Erron could be sweet, if he wanted and left his ego aside, but this is all new. It was like a different person.

She knew that he went through some nasty relationships and didn't wanted to try again, because he was sick of ending the dumb one, but the realization hit her. She managed to make him open his heart.

Who knew that this egocentric sadistic killer could be such a softie?

"I am not gonna leave you." she whispered into his chest, her lips kissing his inked skin.

"I know." he spoke, his hands stroking the skin of her lower back as the tank top riddled up. She shivered at the feeling and wondered if things could go that way. It was tempting.

"Not tonight." he broke the silence yet again.

She looked up at him and felt her heart skip a beat.

"I want to enjoy this simple moment together." he said, kissing the top of her head.

Well, that sure was a pluse. The Hacker pushing his libido aside for a cuddling moment. She sure was one lucky lady.

And to think the two used to be just friends.

#The Hacker #Cyber Killer #Erron #ERROR 666 #The Hacker x Aria #Erron x Aria #Slasher OCs

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