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musashi · 1 year

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I’m Going to Change Your Mind About Manfred von Karma: An Essay

alright been a while since i was particularly autistic on here but I’ve been meaning to make this into a General Masterpost for a while so here we go.

Today on Autism: the twitter/tumblr AA fandom, manfred von karma, over-villainification, and why fanon manfred (fanfred) is in fact fanon and indisputably a freezing cold take.

alright, so first we have to define some things. first off: what the fuck am i talking about when i talk about “fanon” in relation to mvk?

specifically, i am talking about the interpretation of his character that i see mostly prevalent in tumblr, twitter, and AO3 as spaces. this interpretation pretty universally places him as an unrepentant child abuser. the extent of this abuse varies from fanwork to fanwork, most often it is verbal but occasionally it is physical instead or in tandem. usually this abuse is directed at miles but often bleeds into franziska as well, with some alternate takes proposing that one of them is the favoured child and the other is wholly disposable in manfred’s eyes. again, which is which can vary. i’m not going to go into explicit detail about this, but just for a quick visual aid, let’s utilize AO3′s tag filtering system.

as of this moment, if you go into mvk’s tag on ao3, there are 1102 total works that he features or makes an appearance in. ao3 allows you to filter out tags you might not want to see, so i’ve gone ahead and done that with all the child abuse tags i see used on the site, as well as a special custom tag the AA fandom has for mvk specifically. that should be the first indication that this particular interpretation about him is common. here’s my filters:

doing this knocks the work count down to 943. that’s roughly 150 works shaven right off the bat, and that is 1. only the works people bothered to tag him in and 2. only the works they bothered to content tag. there are countless fics about miles and franziska where he is not a central character, but his proposed abuse is a part of the narrative important to them as characters. so these numbers don’t even fully exemplify the problem.

having spent some time in multiple AA spaces, i have noticed this interpretation only really seems prevalent on tumblr, twitter, and AO3. in other fan spaces like discord servers, forums, on youtube, in twitch communities, i literally do not see this anywhere.

so. why is this the prevailing interpretation on these websites? well, that one’s easy for me to answer: miles and franziska are incredibly queer & nd coded. they are incredibly full of trans/gay swag and incredibly autistic, and miles isn’t just coded as neurodivergent, he very loudly very canonically has PTSD that causes him to struggle with everyday life. this is played straight and normalized in canon. there is no disputing this.

historically, queer and nd people are not treated very well by, well, anyone. including our own parents. we have sky-high rates of child abuse among us for perceived imperfection, and the rest really just writes itself. we latch onto characters that we see ourselves in, and we write what we know, and unfortunately what a lot of us know is heartbreak.

this is bolstered by something i noticed just anecdotally, having read through the entire mvk tag a million times: people who are attached to miles and franziska tend to write him as an abuser. people who are attached to any of the pre-DL6 crew (gregory, gant, & blaise) do not.

to get this out of the way, there is... literally nothing wrong with this. there is nothing in canon that contradicts that opinion about manfred. there is no problem if you want to write him that way, and if writing him that way is a form of healing for you, i want you to write it to your heart’s content. i want you to write and write and write until one day you feel better, and then i want you to write some more. listen. i love you. i feel you. i understand.

the problem is that this opinion has become SO parroted (hahaha, like the-- like in the game when--like wh--) that it has now been more or less canonized in the eyes of this swath of people. it is not canon. it is a headcanon. i will hereby be referring to this headcanon’s version as “fanfred,” because it’s fucking funny and my clown shoes honk and squeak as i move.

when challenged on this point (“what basis to we have for manfred von karma being abusive to his children?”) here is the one single piece of evidence that team fanfred brings to the table, these lines from case 1-4 of AAI:

here, manfred brushes off his daughter’s attempt to connect with him and calls miles worthless to his face. undoubtedly, and without question, there is no part of this that is not incredibly fucked up.

but... i do have some counterpoints, regardless.

point 1: AAI, imo, should be considered dubious canon. it was not written or directed by takumi and there are a lot of little inconsistencies in characterization that seem to fly over the AAI team’s heads--the biggest one for me personally is how in the AA trilogy, franziska never ever uses her whip on miles, except once in bridge when he’s having a trauma episode. this is a very small piece of characterization that means a lot to the people who notice it! but it’s ignored in aai, where she whips him nonstop like he’s an unruly showhorse.

all that to say, the aai team has their own interpretations of these characters. there are subtleties they miss, and choices made that might seem obvious upfront but fall apart under a microscope. this is kind of how i feel about mvk being kind of a shitty dad here, especially because...

point 2: this is ooc even for this game. reminiscence is a case i have memorized front to back, these lines come out of fucking NOWHERE. the tone set for miles & manfred’s relationship at the beginning of the case is not adversarial or unpleasant! they talk about the case with one another, very politely take turns proposing ideas and theories, and miles listens enraptured hanging on mvk’s every word. he wants to do good. he wants to be perfect. and mvk wants to see to it that he achieve that goal. if rell and faraday hadn’t gotten murdered, we would have gotten mvk as co counsel! every day i think about how we were robbed of that. nothing leads up to this line above. it is weird, confrontational, triggered by nothing, and way out of left field. not to mention directly contradictory to what mvk said at the beginning of the case, claiming to expect perfection from miles. it’s a weird fucking outburst, a sudden statement, which brings me to point three:

point 3: lead poisoning. more on that later.

[EDIT APRIL 2023: holy fucking shit. alright, nevermind, throw all this off the table: this line was a fucking mistranslation. as one of my youtube commenters pointed out:

‘The Investigations quote is actually a translation error. Karma didnt call Miles "Worthless" on the original JP version, he calls him "半人前" what means "an amateur / someone without experience" (what, for every single meaning of the word Miles actually IS in this case. It's literally his first case and he wasnt supposed to be anything more than a assistant untill like 5min before the game starting).

The translation put a really heavy amount malice on Karma's phrasing that simply doesnt exist on the original (and I actually got my DS the first time on years to confirm this). Maybe because they knew so many fans had this vision of Karma (or are "Abusive Karma fans" themselves), because there's no way this kind of translation wasnt done on bad faith... It's the worst option you could take (as in: the only one that wouldnt work in the context out of 10 others) and seems like a proposital Character Assassination on the translators part.’

so, holy fucking shit. i was right. it WAS ooc, because that shit was thrown in randomly in english for no apparent reason]

but even if we DO decide to consider AAI indisputable canon. then that, i feel, opens up a whole new can of worms. if AAI is canon material, what else can we consider canon material? because i’ve got quite a lot of material of one manfred von karma from other dubiously canon sources, and uh. the fanfred crowd is not gonna like it.

from the mangas we have manfred keeping no less than 5 photos of franziska on him at all times and showing them off to his opposing counsel with little to no prompting. we have him screaming at badd to keep a careful watch on his kids, not wanting to deny them their time at a real crime scene investigation but being worried to the point of seething rage.

(a bit more subtle, but from this same manga we have him getting his feefees hurt because kay calls him scary. i really love this because 1. it’s a parallel to pearl doing the same thing to franziska in bridge, and 2. it’s just really funny that von karmas want little girls to like them and view them as heroes of justice so bad but are constantly dissuaded by their resting bitch face. manfred has two daughters, he’s so used to little girls thinking he’s cool.)

in the live action movie, we have a beautiful scene where mvk and miles talk about the importance of not losing yourself in the pursuit of courtroom victory. i really love mvk in this movie. my friend once described him as someone’s grandpa who’s just lost in the mall.

in the anime! oh! the anime! let me count the ways i love thee.

in the aftermath of DL6 manfred comes to move miles out of his empty childhood home. seeing him balled up and unresponsive on the couch, mvk takes off the scarf he’s wearing and wraps it, tenderly, around miles before escorting him out of the house.

by miles’ own admission, he considers mvk the only person who was there for him after his father died.

sound the turnabout melody, an episode about miles’ life growing up with the von karmas, is my favourite piece of ace attorney media in the history of ever. it contains:

mvk asking and outright encouraging miles on the prospect of being a defense attorney

franziska, age 8, who has noticed that the new boy living in her home has never once smiled. she spends the whole episode trying to figure out ways to fix this. she demands (demands!) mvk

take them to a trial

take them to the mall

take them to fucking IHOP

and mvk complies with all of this. he buys franziska build a bear, and when she’s too sad for pancakes because miles has run off after his dog, the two of them go searching.

by the way he lets miles keep his dog, too.

the reason miles ran off is because he happened upon a criminal and saw through her lies. franziska and manfred fall back around the corner, watching him seek the truth and corner her. when she begins to get unruly, they step in, presence imposing as they protect miles. there is a lingering set of shots on manfred’s powerful finger snap, his eyes burning into her, and franziska with her riding crop, ready to fight a grown woman three times her size. miles is a part of their family. they love him.

miles apologizes for all the trouble. mvk says, let’s get pancakes. miles wins several thousand dollars in reward money for finding a dog and says, can i donate it to an animal shelter? mvk says, of course you can. it’s your money.

mvk was intending on only looking after miles temporarily as a foster parent. he states, outright, that he suspects this impulse came from guilt. he says, in few words, that he regrets what he did, and views taking on miles as his karma for it.

the episode is about miles feeling lost and alone, like he has nowhere, like he has no future. he doesn’t want to be a defense attorney anymore--it reminds him of what he’s lost. mvk watches him corner this criminal, and thinks, quietly, are you a prosecutor, boy? at the end of the episode, after franziska and mvk have solidified his importance in their family, manfred ties a cravat around miles’ neck. miles understands this gesture means he is a part of their family and, for the first time in years, he smiles with his whole face. the episode ends with him finally feeling as though he’s found his truth, his place in the world.

many people interpret manfred as losing respect for miles, berating him, or being otherwise cruel and abusive to him when he loses his first case in turnabout sisters. in the anime, he just seems perplexed!

he gives him some advice about not having feelings. it’s cliche anime villain, but fuck’s sake, it’s not cruel and unusual. today i experienced a fanwork where manfred slapped miles in the fucking face and called him every horrible thing under the sun.

in every single canon i can think of, there is more evidence that manfred was exactly as he seems--a stern mentor, who is cold and calculating and precise, but who has a clear charisma and functions as miles’ rock. in every single canon, miles loves and respects him. miles wants to be more like him. miles views him as an irrefutable part of getting through the trauma of his father’s death. franziska, too, talks about him with stars in her eyes in every canon. he is everything she aspires to be, he is her hero. fanworks where manfred forced these children to be mindless prosecuting machines pale entirely in comparison to what is in these ‘dubious’ canons, where they choose what they do because they want to stand tall beside him.

so. let’s talk about what manfred von karma is instead of what i personally believe he isn’t.

manfred von karma is a despicable fucking human being. he robbed two men of their lives. he ruined the life of every single character in the OG trilogy. do you have a character you like in the OG trilogy? manfred von karma ruined their life. every single horrible thing that has ever happened in ace attorney’s og trilogy happened because of him. and it didn’t even happen for a good reason. it happened because he was a petty, vengeful, impulsive coward of a fucking man who could not process or face head-on one single, meaningless imperfection. it happened because there was a gun at his feet and no one around to stop him. and he almost got away with it. he was so close.

he is a murderer. and a cold, calculating manipulator. he is both a fucking idiot and highly intelligent in covering his tracks. he is all these things.

so... why does he also have to be abusive?

isn’t... doesn’t that kind of... blunt the tragedy of it all?

what is a more heartbreaking story to you--

a monster of a man, imposing and cruel to his proteges, controlling and vile and unconvinced of their worth, exposed for the murderer, for the criminal he is? or...

or manfred von karma, stern-browed but loving father, who leads them with a steady hand and holds them when they falter, who was supposed to be their guiding star, and who turned out to be the monster in the shadows all along?

what is more compelling? miles and franziska finding out the truth, and shrugging it off with a, well, that makes some sense. or miles and franziska, curled up in one another’s arms in an empty house in germany, desperately combing their memory in tatters trying to look for a sign, any sign, anything they could have pinpointed that could have clued them in on the fact that he--

but of course there wouldn’t be anything like that. von karma is perfect.

turnabout goodbyes is certainly interesting. there’s a lot of really unhinged shit going on there. herr turkey vulture is off his fucking rocker in goodbyes. the level of premeditation is a very interesting contrast to the impulsivity of DL6. not to mention it’s just a very fucking random thing to do, framing miles for murder. it’s the one reason i can kinda see where the fanfred crowd is coming from, because it is just... pointlessly evil. what revenge is there left to get? gregory edgeworth is dead. he cannot see his son be jailed.

this brings me back to lead poisoning. i don’t really have anything more to say on that, or a big analysis to give. i just think maybe we should talk about the very real possibility that mvk is lead poisoned to shit. he acts kind of crazy sometimes. calling his kids worthless out of nowhere when 2 seconds ago they were all just talking normally. screaming in the middle of court cause his routine got interrupted. framing miles for murder in excessive detail. just girly things. i feel like his brain just rotted and rotted and rotted as the years went on until eventually he was like YEAH sure whatever i’ll really stick it to gregory, the corpse, by framing his son. that’s just my onion, though.

some other things that annoy me are when people make him transphobic, homophobic, all the phobics, again it’s all just so... excessive. but i get REALLY pissed off when people make him ableist. if you want to write ableism, ace attorney has a billion able-bodied characters you can use for that agenda. manfred von karma is disabled. in canon. i feel like it’s kind of a slap in the fucking face to erase that about him.

again, i personally find the story less compelling if he was abusive. i find it shallow. i would much rather read about someone loved and revered exposed for the monster they are. i want to read stories about franziska shattering to nothing and sobbing in his room when she gets the call from miles, trying desperately not to think about the way her father used to sing her lullabies and bring her sweets and teach her calligraphy. i want miles to be trembling in the defendant’s chair while that metal detector beeps, i want him to be staring at his shaking hands unable to believe it, trying to find any other line of thought. i don’t want their reactions to ANY of this to be ‘yeah, that tracks.’ i want denial. i want heartbreak. i want screaming in the detention center.

it is fine if that is not what you want, but i am tired of the reception my take gets in fandom. people on this website have not only forgotten the rule about not tagging your hate, but they are insistent that their interpretation is the only one. they act as though fanfred is the only truth. they act as though it is canon, and they call us abuse apologists for disagreeing. i once saw someone in the mvk tag saying if you liked manfred or kinned him you were a horrible person. i rather like my mvk kinnie friend. all he does is cry over seals, talk about thomas the tank engine, and come into the group chat where he then proceeds to tell dad jokes in character. he’s really good at motivating me to do my laundry.

if you need to process some shit you went through growing up, i love you. if you want to write what you know, i love you. but please understand that i, as an abuse survivor myself, am not compelled by narratives of abuse. i am not compelled by torture porn about the characters i relate to. i was not given a happy, loving home growing up. it’s for this reason that i want to give the characters i love and relate to what i was deprived of.

i want to change the fandom’s mind about manfred von karma. i want to shift the narrative away from this my way or the highway mentality. if i didn’t, that’s okay. but if i did for you, maybe give me a reblog, or come talk to me abt him :] he is my favourite villain in any series ever, i think. i’d love to hear what others think.

#pwaa #ace attorney #karuma gou #manfred von karma #wendy rambles #wendy rants #simmering sapphire

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lookwhatyoumademedohaha · 1 year

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Bad Blood - Morpheus x Reader

'Cause baby, now we got bad blood You know it used to be mad love So take a look what you've done 'Cause baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

Now we got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em You made a really deep cut And baby, now we got bad blood (hey!)

Did you have to do this? I was thinking that you could be trusted Did you have to ruin What was shining? Now it's all rusted Did you have to hit me Where I'm weak? Baby, I couldn't breathe And rub it in so deep Salt in the wound like you're laughing right at me

Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times You and I

Summary: An insane and maniacal enemy visits you reminding you of your past and taunting you with your present. Morpheus and you find new and surprising revelations for your feelings for each other lingering in your hearts.

Pairing: Morpheus x Goddess of Hope Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff, angst and comfort, humor, toxic family, slight violence.

A/N: Hi everyone! First of all, let me start with a huge thank you to everyone who has given so much love and support for Part 1 and Part 2 and Part 3 , Part 4 and Part 5 of this fic.

AN IMPORTANT NOTE - I have taken down Part 1 and Part 2 of it’s time to go because I felt it needed some reconstruction and rebuilding for the story. So don’t worry if the links aren’t working. I plan on finishing the first two parts and uploading them again to this work! But this work can be read without the first two parts as well, so keep on reading!

Thank you so much for the overwhelming love and support you had given to this fic. Your support and love means so much to me and encourages me to keep going. I apologize for taking such a long time to come up with Part 6 but between work and studies and working on my mental health, I wanted to create a really good and beautiful story for myself and you all as well. So I really hope you like it even though it is slightly long because there are new revelations in Morpheus’ and Hope’s feelings for each other and highlights Hope’s past a little bit more better.

So here’s Part 6 of it’s time to go ! It’s a bit long but I promise you it’s worth reading until the very end! Please do read it until the end and let me know what you think!

Thank you so much for your love, encouragement and support. You are the best! You are all so sweet, kind and amazing and make me believe that the world is full of nice and good people! Please let me know if you like this story that I worked hard on because your feedback means so much to me!

I love you all! This is me to all who encourage, love and support me!

Part 1 - it’s time to go

Part 2 - Meet Me in the Afterglow

Part 3 - Forever Winter

Part 4 - Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

Part 5 - Sweet Nothing

You rose when the sky was still dark. You would see to your morning’s business of your respective Realms as you dressed and walked into the gardens where you looked over your papers. You looked at the red box with the seal of the Queen full of reports and papers regarding important matters of the Realm, ready for you to tackle as you took a deep breath and opened it and began to read, process, sign and tackle each one carefully.

“I need coffee.” you muttered as you tackled a problem with Desire’s realm because how could the world be full of problems before dawn? It simply was not civilized.

When you finished, you realized it was dawn. You passed through the bushes of beautiful flowers that bloomed in pretty shy pink, lush passionate red, pure white, as she reached the manor with its terraces and white statues that was clouded with mist filtered with the first rays of golden sunlight that made it look like a beautiful bride. You felt reminiscence and adoration for this home that had been full of happiness for a certain amount of time until you had felt loss and grief once again. This hour should have felt peaceful and yet all you saw were figures of your past dancing around you, a tall gentleman with a bright and shy smile offering a bouquet of pink roses as he walked beside you talking kindly and listening to you. Laughter echoed around you, shy smiles were all you saw, playful bickering and banter was all you heard until you felt nothing but painful reminiscence and wistfulness.

But you had watched them all fall. You had watched him fall. You had been there among them. You vowed after that never to let anyone into your heart because people only left and for that pleasant fantasy to be a reality, you had to be strong against the Dream Lord who was insistent on winning you over.

You strode through the halls of the manor into the kitchen where the morning light had turned bright and rosy, as you conjured up breakfast. As you finished sending your solved reports and signed papers to your Realm, you closed your eyes as you understood that today you would not start the day alone. You snapped your fingers and your mansion was spruced and sparkling, beautiful flowers bloomed, the scent of fresh tea and sweet orange blossoms filled the air as the table was laid with a lavish spread of breakfast.

The strong scent of false promises and sweet chocolate filled the air as you heard light footsteps of high heels out by the door and you tensed as you called out “I know you are out there.”

“I know you know I’m out here.” replied the silky and soft voice as the clicking of the heels stopped as the door quietly closed behind the familiar stranger.

“Then why are you playing hide and seek in my home with those ridiculous high heels?” you called out confidently as you thought of how the this stranger was too over confident about their ability to outsmart and outmaneuver you in your home.

“Because I’m hurt that you didn’t see the forty three missed calls I left you. Why didn’t you answer?” replied the silky and soft voice teasingly and playfully echoing from another part of the room, as you listened carefully preparing yourself.

You snorted in disdain as you rolled your eyes, still cautious and careful as you stepped toward the direction of the voice, replying with disdain and sarcasm “Do you think I’m your fiancé?”

The twinkling amused laugh echoed from the living room as you held your breath, your eyes glowing hazel golden as you scanned through the walls and saw the flash of blonde hair, cunning eyes of the stranger skulking in the room with weapons in their hands. You had expected to see them but you didn’t think that they would visit you today, so quickly with a death wish in their heart. You were always prepared for their visits because they always appeared without invitation but this visit felt different because they had lost the right to step into this particular house, to speak to you as if they knew you better than anyone.

As if they could read your mind, the voice spoke what you were thinking, with a hint of anxiety present in the voice as they tested the waters “And because I distinctly remember you saying that if you ever saw me again, you would kill me.”

You reached for your weapons as you stepped cautiously and quietly “Oh, I remember.”

The silky and seductive voice grew steady and solemn calling out to you “So are we going to talk like proper grown up sisters?”

You transported into the living room to see the tall graceful figure of a flash of beautiful angelic blonde hair, ocean blue eyes gleaming with cunning and resourcefulness as she whirled around to looked in surprise at you who replied “Funny. Is that what we are?”

There was a tense silence between both of you as you eyed the beautiful and charming lady in a red silk dress and black high heels, her sapphire ocean blue eyes gleaming with sweet promises and dangerous heartbreak, her cheeks dabbed with blush of first love, her angelic golden hair curled around her in flawless waves, her lips rouge and red as the bloodied bodies and red roses.

You stared at the gorgeous visage of stormy heartbreak and cruel passion, your sister Love.

“Leave now.” you warned in a steady voice as you stepped backwards and Love took a few steps forward. “Before I make you.”

“Watch your step.” retorted Love playfully but there was a hint of smugness as you nearly slipped but you just chuckled because you were infuriated with your sister’s smug superiority.

Both of you stood still and silent, the moment between you lasting for eternal seconds that ticked slowly as both of you looked at each other with the memories and emotions that time couldn’t erase as they both glared at each other in distrust and disdain, scanning each other wondering what lay beneath the surface.

The frozen moment of analyzing and scanning each other’s weaknesses broke as you seized her hand from reaching her wand and twisted it and she seized your hand from reaching your special dagger reserved for occasions just like this. You kicked her fiercely in the chest making Love gasp in sharp pain and yelled as you held her tightly and slammed her on the posts of the door with your strength and brutality, feeling twisted satisfaction at hearing her yells of pain.

Love glared at you with a brutal gleam in her ocean blue eyes as she curled her hands around your neck, her sharp polished nails clawing into your skin as she choked you mercilessly. As you spluttered and gasped for air, Love shoved you onto the cabinet, the precious trinkets and pictures crashing and falling as she slammed you hard, her grip growing stronger on you while you struggled and thrashed against her infuriated by her smirk.

Elder sister and younger sister. Once two sisters who understood each other. Defined by their choices. Separated by the paths they took.

Elder sister always tried her best to gain attention and shine in the spotlight. But the younger sister who knew she would be of interest did not know she would naturally attract such an overwhelming amount of attention from the universe just because she was herself.

The big sister was trained to fight. The little sister was trained to kill.

Love was equally as good as you, though you would never admit it. It was something that filled you with rage and shame. Everything you did, you always tried to be better than her. All those tests where Love would pass with flying colors and you would miss by a mark as you watched her being showered with praise. All those duels where your father who had trained you both, pitted you against each other, Love and you fought each other with perfect technique and sharp desire to win resulting in Love winning many times but it was you who had learned new lessons from each loss and won as time went on by using your wit and cleverness against Love.

Love smirked smugly with superiority as she pinned you down, as you choked and struggled against her “I always knew I was the best in the family.”

Oh hell no. No way in hell were you losing this duel to this cocky, arrogant little shit.

You screamed in frustration and anger as you bit her hand fiercely and slammed a precious vase on Love’s head making her scream and bleed in pain as she stumbled a few steps back in shock. You were quick to stand up as you whipped out your whip but Love caught it as she wrapped it around your neck as she held you tightly in her arms but you lifted your leg and pushed your weight against her freeing yourself from her grasp and threw her across the living room making the glass on a mirror shatter.

You wasted no time as you caught your breath and unsheathed a knife from your weapons belt as you flung it across at Love with fierce determination because you were seriously angered. Love’s eyes widened with terror and horror as she took a few trembling steps back and conjured a shield. In the moment you flung your knife at your sister with brutal intentions, Love ducked it as she protected herself with the shield. You kicked away the shield as your sharp knife grazed the torso of your sister’s body.

Love screamed with tears in her eyes as she grabbed your arm and tossed you to the floor but you were quick to get up on your knees as you swung your knife again, swiping it across her chest as another nasty wound appeared. Love kicked the knife away from you as she screamed in terror and pain and jumped on you as she gripped you tightly with her arms to try and contain you.

But you were persistent, fierce and spiteful as you gasped for air and kicked your sister in the crotch and pushed her fiercely against the wall and through the French windows as both of you crashed into the gardens outside. She wrapped her legs around your neck and tossed you to the ground as she took your whip and wrapped it around your neck tightly. But you seized it, and did the same to your sister, wrapping it around her neck tightly until she gasped for air and slammed her hard and fiercely to the ground.

You tightened your grip around the whip never letting go, stubborn and persistent to choke your sister because you would rather die than lose a battle with Love as you glared fiercely and stubbornly at her when her ocean blue eyes glimmering with tears stared into yours and gasped with a cough “You win.”

You tightened your grip again because you wanted to hear those word once more and Love coughed in pain, letting go of her hold of the whip on you “You win!”

You grinned maniacally as you gasped for the sweet morning air that your lungs were deprived of and retrieved your whip and Love looked over at you “I forgot how much I really hate you, you little murderous cockroach.”

“The feeling is mutual, Love.”

“Come on. Let’s have a cup of tea.”

You brushed away the glass and the dirt as you marched into the nearly destroyed house with your sister. You had just fought your sister with all the anger and pain in your being, in a situation of life and death and now here you were, handing a cup of tea to your sister who you had nearly killed and who had almost destroyed your property.

Yeah, sounded like a pretty normal day.

You both sat in tense silence as you handed your sister a cup of tea made in the way she hated, and Love’s eyes flickered with irritation when she realized that you had placed the teacup handle precisely away from the hand she normally used but turned it around. You poured yourself a cup of coffee with hidden amusement at seeing the little trick that annoyed your sister and watched in delight at seeing the revolted look on her face the moment she took a sip of tea.

“All these centuries and you still don’t know how to serve a decent cup of tea.” stated Love mockingly as she shook her head at you in disappointment.

“Oh, I reserve my best tea for my honored guests and people I care about.” you replied lightly and carelessly with a smile that infuriated Love who hid her pain in her eyes “The tea I served you is for cunning tricksters and cruel villains.”

“I’m honored. Every fairytale needs a good cruel monstrous villain. You need me.” said Love with a dark twinkle in her stormy ocean blue eyes as she looked at you with apathy and emptiness “Because we’re very much alike... you and I. Otherwise, without me... you’d be bored. You always were bored.”

“You are getting married, I hear.” you replied calmly and steadily, unshaken by Love as you sipped your coffee slowly.

“I’m the all - powerful Goddess of Love, the Deity who every creature needs every single day... you think I can’t seduce a simple idiot who craves love and affection?” crooned Love in amusement, her voice dripping with delight and humor. “I assume you are going to attend and keep your promise.”

“I owe you.” you replied coldly, your voice full of sharp edges of steel and danger. “I will be collecting as promised.”

“If after all these centuries, you are still feeling sentimental about your friend -” Love started laughing in amusement. “You should let bygones be bygones. Be a Goddess, not a sentimental human being.”

“Don’t you dare walk in here - and speak to me about sentiment!” you snapped in fury and anger as memories flooded into your mind.

Love grinned maniacally in amusement but there was a glimmer of nervousness in her eyes “Are you still upset about what happened to your friend?”

“What do you think?” you snapped in quiet anger as you gripped the handle of your cup very tightly.

Love smirked knowingly with no remorse and regret as she took a sip of her tea “I think you blame me for what happened when you knew it was your fault all along. You knew it was inevitable but you let yourself believe that you could be an ordinary girl who could have a happily ever after.

“All of it... his blood is on your hands. He was a good man who had many days ahead of him that he could have lived happily. He should have lived his life, should have had the chance to make a difference.” you said quietly in heartbreak and sadness at the remembrance of your good friend who had been ridiculous and kind, always wearing a bright smile and a heart full of goodness and energy to help those who were powerless. Not only was he a talented and powerful man, he was an uncommonly kind man who had the sweet disposition of seeing wonder in a world full of cruelty and brutality.

Your dark anger and unforgiving fury blazed in your dark eyes as you remembered the piercing screams, the gasps for life and the blood on your hands as you tried to stop Death itself and glared at Love with centuries of unforgiven and unforgettable emotions “Your twisted and sick games and schemes led him to his death. You murdered him.”

“I murdered him? He was just another unimportant casualty in the long game.” replied Love smoothly with a huff of amused laughter with no trace of remorse and shame in her face that made you so angry that you wanted to kill her slowly and painfully “Although, it was touching the way he snuffed out. Casting himself in front of you to protect you... sacrificing himself to protect an almighty Goddess because his love for you was powerful than his love for his own pathetic life! Mortals are quite foolishly funny like that but his death was so beautiful-”

You had enough as you seized her with white hot rage that clouded your senses, your mind only filled with ideas of murder and torture to make your sister suffer slowly and painfully until she begged for mercy “How dare you mention him! His death - his death was not beautiful! It was horrifying, wrong and -”

“Oh dear, but it was beautiful!” Love laughed maniacally, unafraid and unregretful even though her own sister was almost one step away from murdering her with true outrage as you felt red hot burning outrage run through you and you shook her as she laughed “Your dear friend died for who he loved and for what he stood for. Like it or not, it was beautiful.”

“You’re insane.” you spat angrily as you shook her nearly on the verge of murdering her but his loving and smiling face flashed in your mind. You felt the outrage grow but there was something that whispered he would disapprove of your actions. “He died!”

“BUT THAT’S WHAT MORTALS DO! THEY WITHER AND DECAY AND DIE BECAUSE THAT IS THEIR PATHETIC PURPOSE IN LIFE!” snapped Love loudly and sharply in frustration and anger making you release her in shock as she glared at you fiercely and inhaled a sharp breath “You are Goddess above all of them who knows this universal truth and yet you hide from it. I’m so sick of you pretending to be one of them... ordinary and normal!”

“Face it, the universe calling you for help is what really gets you excited. Not a normal life of groceries and... complicated little emotions.” retorted Love in amusement and honesty as she grinned widely at you. “Imagine that. You would go mad and die of boredom.”

You rolled your eyes at Love as you replied sassily in a cruel and cutting tone of knowing arrogance “Oh yeah? Well, you’re not exactly cut out for domestic bliss yourself either.”

Love was taken aback in shock and after a moment’s pause, she scowled fiercely at you who seemed to settle into an air of carelessness and indifference as she replied in annoyance and irritation “Maybe it’s like a tone thing... but you could really work on the way you speak. It’s very... maddeningly, infuriatingly, irritating and annoying.”

“I don’t care. How are you feeling?” you asked controlling your anger and pain with great determination.

“Never better. Do you have to collect your debt now?” questioned Love calmly and steadily but her voice cracked slightly in fright, her ocean blue eyes betrayed fear “Collecting your debt will not return what you lost.”

“No. But I’m bored and I promised you.”

“Well, you can’t because my fiancé believes that we are absolutely two loving sisters who care for each other.” replied Love with a cunning and triumphant grin surprising you as she took a sip of her tea “I’ve told him that you have promised to be my maid of honor and give the toast at my wedding.”

You could not believe what you were hearing because you were angry at yourself for not seeing this coming “You little, conniving, fucked up -”

“Hey dearest sister, mind your language. He’s really looking forward to meeting my sweet sister who loves me very much.” replied Love sweetly, delighted and happy at your spluttering outrage and hatred direct toward her because it was amazing to have the upperhand over you. “He will be puzzled when you attend the wedding with the intention of destroying me.”

“I am not going to be your maid of honor or give a toast at your wedding.” you said steadily in a non - negotiable voice wearing a stubborn expression

“But I’ve told all my guests you’ll be there for me. They are so delighted when they heard the Goddess of Hope has promised to be there for her sister on the big day.” replied Love lightly and innocently with cruel delight sparkling in her shimmering blue eyes “I can’t believe you would let me down. Let all of them down and break your promise to me.”

You glared at Love feeling absolutely struck in shock and outraged that you didn’t see it coming and feeling the urge to slap her in the face, but your eyes gleamed with cold fury and quiet calculation as you voiced the one question that echoed throughout all the betrayals and games between you both “Why are you doing this? What do you want? You don’t want power or glory... not really. What is it that you really want?”

“That’s been the question I want the answer to all along. The foundation of our Great Game. Have you found the answer to it?” asked Love sweetly in a sing - song melodious voice that taunted and irritated you as she looked at you knowingly “I did tell you but did you listen?”

You remained quiet as you rested your chin on your intertwined fingers, irritated and annoyed by your sister’s troublesome presence, the knowing and cruel glint in her ocean blue eyes as she smirked at you “How hard do you find it? To say I don’t know?”

“I don’t know.” you quipped swiftly and smartly with a smirk as you rolled your eyes at Love.

Love chuckled irritating you as she twirled a strand of her shining golden hair between her fingers, looking at you in mocking admiration and amusement “Oh that’s clever. That’s very smart. Speaking of clever... will you tell our family and the everyone else?”

You raised your brow “Tell them what?”

“Tell them why I am hosting my wedding at our home realm? Tell them why I am suddenly bezzie mates with my dear sister?” replied Love smoothly and silkily as she took a sinfully delicious red apple and reached into her pockets to take a knife to carve and cut it up.

You scoffed in ridicule “No.”

Your sister nodded in delight and understanding as she looked at you with an expression almost close to respect and amusement “But you understand?”

Your eyes glimmered with understanding “Obviously.”

Love grinned in satisfaction as she laid back on the armchair, popping a piece of apple in her mouth as she looked at you with twisted encouragement and cruel delight “Off you go then. Indulge me, little sister.”

“You want me to tell you what you already know?” you retorted in exasperation and irritation because every time you met your sister, this was the kind of twisted mischievous game she would play with you, trying to be cleverer than you and test you.

“No. I want you to prove to me that you know what I already know.” replied Love calmly and smoothly, her voice dripping with cruel amusement and cold encouragement.

This is what she did to you. She knew you could never resist the chance to pass her little tests and prove that you were clever. That was who you were. You remembered how long ago when you were children with flowers in your hair, running through the corridors of the endless palace where they hid behind the curtains planning how to sneak out of the palace but when you had suggested to scrap the plan in the last minute out of fear, she had stared at you with a curious smile and whispered...

“What’s the point of being clever if you can’t prove it? You’d do anything, anything to stop being bored. You’re not bored now, are you?”

You hated that memory, those words that fired in your head when the war of memories with your sister clashed in your head. Was she right? Perhaps, yes, you did hate being bored and you liked a good game. But you also wanted peace and rest and hated this betrayal and games that you played with Love. You disliked that you never moved first against her but she always initiated games to hurt you and cause you sadness and heartbreak and headaches.

So you were truly fed up with her.

“You lied to everyone because it was necessary. Your need everyone in the family to love and support your fiancé. You lied to everyone about us because you need them to believe the lie is the truth.” you began with a deep breath as your mind analyzed the thoughts that had formed in your mind the moment you had heard of your sister’s engagement and her news of you becoming her maid of honor. “You need stability and support.”

Love smirked approvingly as she ate another piece of the apple “Good. And?”

“You lied because you need stability and support of a marriage and a powerful Goddess and family member in order to seize what you’ve always wanted.” you replied seriously and solemnly, feeling absolute disdain and dislike for your sister wishing you could erase her out of existence.

Love nodded in approval as she carved on the apple with a cruel smirk “Very good. Because?”

“Because you know the value of my support and a good marriage in the eyes of our father and his kingdom. Because nothing in this universe matters more to you than ensuring that you are the one our home realm supports and father chooses as the Crown Heir to the Kingdom of Chaos between you and Wisdom.” you finished easily and intelligently because Love’s intentions had been transparent and clear from the start. It was quite predictable and boring but also startling and alarming because you knew Love was insane and with that kind of power, there was no telling what she could do.

“I can open new doors anywhere in the universe and create madness with just the power of the Crown of Chaos. No such thing as restraint and control... I will control and dominate the entire universe once I’m the official heir and Monarch of Chaos.” stated Love smoothly and coldly with terrifying cruelty and dark ambition written all over her face, shining wildly in her eyes “I could blow up this pathetic little planet, attack any kingdom that challenges me or bring doomsday destroying everything in my dislike for them. In this universe, chaos ultimately reigns supreme and the one who has access to it rules the universe.... and you should see me in a crown.”

“You don’t want the Crown. You just want to show the universe what you can do.”

“And your reputation... the fact I’ve told them you’re my sweet big sister is helping. Big client list. Rogue criminals, monstrous monarchs, intelligent scholars, terror communities... suddenly they all want me.” replied Love smugly in satisfaction and delight, her ocean blue eyes gleaming with dark cruelty and twisted amusement, chuckling happily as she watched your face grow pale in understanding and realization at the terrifying situation that was unfolding.

“You could do anything. See the universe. Create something beautiful. What do you care about a client list?” you snapped in unrestrained anger and hurt that Love had used your hard earned name and good reputation for her own twisted dark deeds and cruel plans.

“I don’t. I just like to watch all of them competing for my attention. Mommy loves me the best!” mocked Love in cruel amusement, her eyes gleaming with superiority and darkness, the very antithesis of what humans thought what Love was supposed to be “Isn’t the universe filled with such gullible, stupid, adorable creatures? Well, you know all about adorable pets. You have that troublemaker. How is he by the way?”

You stiffened at the mention of another heartbreak from the past that you were slowly trying to heal from as you inquired with a bite in your voice “You know I will stop you.”

Your sister didn’t look intimidated and threatened but amused and nonchalant as she bit into a piece of her apple casually “How’s your newly returned dear husband... the Dream Lord... Lord Morpheus? You’ve been around him a great deal since he returned, I hear. Did you have a pleasant evening with your dearly beloved last night?”

Love’s eyes darted upwards towards the floor where Morpheus was sleeping as she smirked cruelly and you stiffened in tension because you suddenly felt a fearful urgency and protective tendency unleash in you hoping that you expressed no feelings in your face but Love continued “Love. It’s so sickeningly sweet and utterly pathetic what idiots do for love. Adam and Eve. Achilles and Patroclus. Hades and Persephone. Orpheus and Eurydice. Paris and Helen of Troy. Diana and Charles. All of them absolutely tragically wonderfully amusing. Do you know my favorite story out of all my years of experience in my duty?”

You rolled your eyes at her “I don’t care.”

“Once upon a time, there was a fair and beautiful young princess loved by all and she fell madly in love with a handsome dashing powerful King. Unfortunately the King was already lost in his grief of a broken heart over someone else.” began Love with as a cruel smile twisted on her beautiful face, her voice dripping with sweet honey and deadly poison as she watched in pleasure when you stiffened in pain and tension, your knuckles gripping the chair so tightly that they turned white “The King and Princess married each other but the minute the vows were spoken and duty was done, their marriage was effectively over and the King started to find comfort in the arms of others. They did remarkably well considering how unhappily they were living ever after.”

You were furious, your rage blazing beyond understanding as it grew white hot at the insult paid to you as you listened to your sister speak about with such casual amusement. It was a crushing weight of insult and cruelty to be subjected to the miserable story you had lived throughout the centuries unhappily and feel your sister, the Goddess of Love herself rejoice in your suffering as she enjoyed playing her sick twisted games with you.

Your sister paused, her face falling into an expression of sympathy and understanding, her voice softening and yet you glimpsed the hints of cruelty dancing in her eyes “But... there comes a point in any failing marriage - and I here I truly understand the princess who realized that there was no point trying any more and it was easier to let the hatred take her away.”

“After years of neglect and absence, the King had a change of heart, understood that the princess was the only one for him and runs to prove that she is the love of his endless life. Unfortunately for the King, the princess has nursed grudges and unforgiving hatred against him. And now the poor unfortunate soul’s afraid that the saintly princess will never love him the way she did once upon a time and is willing to sacrifice and do anything just to see her laugh, ensure her happiness and earn her heart.” finished Love with a maniacal grin, unfeeling darkness gleaming in her eyes as cold cruelty and unpredictable amusement written all over her, the very picture of her foreign to the image the mortals painted of her.

You had scoffed when you read, heard, listened and seen mortals describe Love as kind, patient, sweet, and understanding.

Clearly, none of them had experienced having Love as a sister and enemy.

Little Miss Perfect, the Goddess of Love was not wonderful. Love was a storm of manipulation and cruelty, finding sick amusement in pain of others, unfeeling and heartless and very dangerous.

But there was something about Love who narrated the story, that felt almost comforting today. Generally, you would be wary and throw yourself at her with the intention of killing her if she started to mock you but today though she had started with the intention of mocking your marriage, it had ended with a quiet sisterly comfort and understanding that was very rare in your relationship. You knew when Love was being genuine and when she was insane. Although she was always insane, there were moments you glimpsed a glimmer of goodness that made you hope that the sister you had cared about was still in there. Today as both of you sat with your cups of coffee and tea on opposite sides as you stared at Love, you felt welcome comfort and quiet understanding.

“If there was a prize for rotten judgement, I guess the princess has already won that.” you replied sassily and smartly as you ran your hand through your hair in exasperation and amusement as you both chuckled feeling comfortable “No man is worth the aggravation... that’s ancient history, been there, done that!”

Love’s eyes gleamed in surprise “Are you quoting Disney?”

“It’s a classic. You know it’s my favorite Disney song?” you replied enthusiastically as you looked at Love who was listening in amusement and surprise.

Love was carving an apple as she laughed in good humor “Isn’t it like a sappy song?”

“Okay, the lyrics are incredibly beautiful. The voices are just heavenly. I listen to it all the time and I will fight you if you hate on it.” you retorted defensively as you glared at Love fiercely and ferociously at Love who was chuckling at you muttering something about what a child you were for a Goddess.

Love smiled warmly and genuinely after a few moments of silence as her ocean blue eyes met yours and you saw the glimmer of the genuine good - hearted sister you used to know as she replied “I like Hercules too. I love the Muses. And Meg... she’s an absolute badass! And Hades’ characterization... it’s absolutely just so funny.”

“I know right! I mean, literally when I see Hades on screen, I start laughing when I think of our Hades! And Meg and the Muses, they’re so cool, right!” you exclaimed happily, amazed that Love and you had something awesome in common and you forgot momentarily your anger and fury toward your sister.

“Totally awesome.” said Love with a warm grin and teased playfully as she kicked one leg over the other “You know your favorite song is about Meg’s conflict of new feelings of genuine love and holding herself back because she fears heartbreak and grief if she lets herself be loved and love again.”

You shot your sister a sharp look knowing where this was going to go as you pointed your knife at her “Shut up. Don’t even start -”

“Who do you think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you. Try to keep it hidden. Honey, I can see right through. Girl, you can’t conceal it. I know how you feel and who you’re thinking of.” Love began singing beautifully and playfully with a teasing smirk, her ocean blue eyes shimmering in delight, creating humorous and knowing expressions at you making you feel exasperated and shy.

That knowing expression on your sister’s face irked you because she knew you were thinking of a certain ethereal Dream Lord who was slowly beginning to crawl his way into your head. And yet as you watched your sister singing carefree and loudly, you were reminded of the long past good times where you both shared laughter and fondness for each other instead of desire to betray and destroy one another. These kind of moments were incredibly rare in your relationship with your sister, and very precious to your heart so when it happened, you cherished it and lived in it.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson. It feels so good when you start out! My head is screaming ‘Get a grip, girl!’” you joined in singing dramatically and divinely, exaggerating playfully as you grinned brightly in amusement at Love who was swooning, sighing, gasping and fanning herself and you pretended to stab yourself in the chest “Unless you’re dying to cry your heart out!”

Love laughed warmly at your dramatic exaggerations as she shook her head at you and gestured at you in an equally dramatic manner as she waggled her eyebrows “You keep on denying, who you are and how you’re feeling. Darling I’m not buying.”

You stuck out your tongue at Love glaring at her teasing and playful expression that liked irritating you as you sang “No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no, no.”

Love winked in playful knowing as she wore an expression of disbelief “You’re doing flips, read my lips, you’re in love again!”

You rolled your eyes at Love with an expression of exasperation and annoyance as you sang “You’re way off base, that’s not the case. Get off the my case, I won’t say it.”

“Alright, don’t be proud, it’s okay if you are falling in love.” replied Love suavely and smoothly with a smirk as she looked at your annoyed and exasperated expression. “It’s quite sweet... Lord Morpheus and you... if you’re thinking of moving on from him, then think again because that idiot may actually love you. But what about you?”

Your face hardened, your eyes darkened with quiet protectiveness, feelings of - what exactly? You remembered last night, the quiet blissful intimacy between them that has blossomed. The soft smiles and the sorrowful tears shed, the guarded memories shared and their hearts opening to each other without reservation. It felt new, intimate, beautiful and fragile... an unexplored territory as you remembered the Dream Lord’s intense eyes full of adoration and affection for you throughout the evening.

“None of your business. You have interfered in my life with the intentions of making me unhappy and you have succeeded a thousand times over.” you said in a steely and cold voice, the warmth and affection of sisterhood vanishing in an instant, forgotten and replaced with the deadliness and danger of an enemy “I will keep my promise to collect. And I will stop you.”

“No, you won’t.” said Love sweetly and lightly, cruelty and poison heavily dripping in her voice, her eyes devoid of kindness “Shall I tell you what will happen if you try to stop me?”

“Oh let me guess. Ruin my life.”

“Ruin your life? No, no, don’t be boring. No, if you stop me, I will break Lord Morpheus, the unfortunate soul weakened by the captivity at the hands of pathetic humans.” replied Love coolly and kindly but there was undying cruelty and hardened hatred in her as she looked at you who had stiffened in tension “I’m going to burn down his pathetic and vulnerable Dream Realm. I’ll kill each of his subjects and make him watch as everything and everyone he loves dies and fades away in front of him. And you will be helpless as he sees you for who you truly are and rips your heart out again.”

“I can reliably inform you that I do not care for Lord Morpheus in any way at all.” you replied coldly and quietly, silent rage and protectiveness simmering and burning within you at the thought of Morpheus’ fall from grace once again.

You had never been certain of much regarding Morpheus but you were certain that Morpheus adored and loved the Realm of Dream and Nightmares more than his endless life. It was his pride and joy. To see it burnt down would be his greatest suffering. You hated his pride and arrogance but you did not want someone else, especially your cunning and cruel sister to take a blow at his pride and strip him of it.

Love smiled knowingly with a soft and sweet smile full of cruelty and cunning as her eyes darted upstairs for a few moments and then met yours with a twinkle “But we both know that isn’t quite true.”

You felt something in you squirm and burn as you shot a deep glare at your sister who chuckled easily “Two conditions and I will tell you the name of the captor of your husband and promise to stop all the games with you.”

You froze slightly at the words of your sister “State your conditions and I will take them into consideration and you will do my conditions accordingly.”

“Alright. My first condition, do not collect your debt as until death does him apart from me. My second condition, do not reveal my plan to our family.” stated Love coolly and calmly with a smug smirk because she thought she had you at her mercy.

But Love was unaware that you were feeling rather smug because Love had just revealed her cards to you. Love had revealed her weaknesses to you, the things that she cared the most about. Love generally didn’t care about anyone or anything, lacked empathy and kindness so it satisfied you that she finally found a fiancé who she loved with all her heart that she couldn’t bear to lose and had a great desire to achieve the throne at any cost.

“Well... it’s quite hard to say yes to. I mean, I did make you this promise. And even I was to state my conditions, you’re a deceitful creature who won’t fulfill my conditions. How do I even know how far you’ll go to make my conditions happen?” you replied calmly and carelessly, rolling your eyes at your sister with disbelief chuckling in amusement.

Your sister was stripped of her arrogance and cruelty she wore but now looked pale and vulnerable, every inch pathetically mortal and weak as you laughed in cruel and twisted amusement as you playfully taunted “Come, come, dear Love... you didn’t expect me to keep all your secrets and forget your betrayals for nothing? What would our father say if he heard of your side venture to double cross him?”

Love’s expression turned dark and cruel but she smirked “You always were a thorn in my side. But there is nothing stopping me from cutting you from my life.”

“Because you know that before you can take another breath, I’d have slit your throat and ruined those very expensive cushions you are sitting on.” you replied coolly with a dark and amused gleam in your dark eyes as you twirled your knife lazily in your hand.

Love inhaled a sharp breath as she felt intimidated by her sister but shot back fiercely “You forget I was trained by father too. Come on big talker, let’s see whose blood spills on the floor.”

“Father may have trained you but you forget I was raised by Lucifer Morningstar and Mazikeen.” you replied elegantly and majestically as you lifted your chin proudly looking at Love daring her to challenge you but you were satisfied when you saw a flicker of fear in her ocean blue eyes.

You were glad to see fear dominate Love because although she considered herself powerful, she certainly did not have the support of Lucifer Morningstar, the second most powerful creature in this universe and if anything happened to you, you knew Lucifer Morningstar would seek vengeance in your name.

Ah, there were perks of being the Devil Regent, second in command to Lucifer Morningstar.

Your sister was resigned finding no way out because she did not want to risk the wrath of Lucifer Morningstar “Very well. Name your conditions and I promise to honor them as long as you honor my two conditions.”

“My first condition is that from now on, you will not interfere in the personal and professional matters of the Realm of Hope and Realm of Dreaming. Leave them out of your nefarious plans for the universe.” you stated calmly with a hint of danger and warning in your voice as you observed your sister’s face fall slightly and you took note of your sister’s beautiful fair face falling in disappointment. You realized that these Realms were part of her nefarious and monstrous schemes to bring hell into the universe.

“Very well. Your second condition?”

“My second condition is that I will collect my the debts that owe me and you must pay me your debt. You cannot negotiate it.” you replied smoothly and calmly with a twinkle in your eyes seeing your sister infuriated.

“You can’t do that. I do not owe you.” laughed Love as she tucked a blonde strand of hair behind her ear but she was nervous and scared.

“Yes, you do. You owe me for agreeing to your two conditions. You owe me for keeping you breathing for so long. You owe me for keeping your secrets. You have long list of debts, Love... and I will begin collecting them very soon.” you said with a superior smirk, confident and calm in yourself as you stared at Love daring her to challenge you.

“You can’t kill my fiancé! You promised not to collect that debt!” snapped Love furiously and darkly but nervousness and fright were flickering in her dark ocean blue eyes.

“You don’t listen, do you? I won’t kill your fiancé even though you deserve it, even though I promised you a long time ago. So you owe me a debt for not collecting that debt from you. So... I will be collecting all your debts from you and you will pay without excuse. Write that down.” you retorted casually and nonchalantly with a smirk as you tilted your head smugly at Love. “Finally... I will agree to your conditions but you must... beg for it.”

“I will not beg from you!”

“Fine, consider your conditions disagreed to. I will collect my debt and ruin your plans of taking over the Kingdom of Chaos.” you said with a happy smirk as you slung your leg carelessly and indifferently with grace and superiority.

Love was desperate, too desperate because she had seen the careless and vengeful gleam in your dark brown eyes that signified you would go above and beyond everything to destroy everything Love held dear to her heart and ruin her in disgrace and Love found herself pleading in a childlike, vulnerable voice “Y/N! My sister! Please... please don’t do this! Please don’t take him away from me! Please don’t ruin this chance for me to rule! Just please - I’ll do anything - I beg you, don’t do this!”

You were more of an evil queen reigning gracefully on her throne of bloodied bones as you lounged lazily on your armchair, eyeing your sister with pleasurable indifference and careless nonchalance as you smirked ruthlessly with delighted amusement and replied dangerously “I like you begging... Do it again.”

Your eyes glowed a dangerous golden green as you eyed your sister with dangerous ruthlessness that would not spare her unless you were given what you wanted. Love remembered all the times you had begged for her mercy and support but Love had turned you away with mocking laughter and cruel taunts that made you burst into tears and scream in fear and pain as she took away what you held dear to you in the twisted schemes and games she played with you. Now, Love could see clearly that her sweet sister who had patiently tolerated her games was not so kind anymore, she was full of darkness and vengeance that would be unleashed on Love if she crossed the line.

Love felt frightened and scared of you, fear rattling deep in her bones as she bowed down to you deeply, begging for mercy for she could not live without the love of her life “I beg you... please spare us. I beg you... please don’t ruin me. I’m begging you, Your Highness... please.”

You tilted your head slightly considering her words as you took pleasure in savoring the helplessness and powerlessness of it all and stared at Love cruelly for what felt like an eternal moment and you twisted your fingers with a dark smirk “Alright. I suppose I could be merciful.

Love exhaled a breath of relief but felt unsettled when she met your eyes gleaming with darkness and cruelty, your voice burning with danger and rage “I agree to your conditions as long as you agree and honor my conditions. So... do we have a trade?”

Love looked as if she had swallowed a poisonous toad as she looked at you darkly and nervously and finally took a deep breath and slit the palm of her hand, blood dripping “Yes, Your Highness. Will you, Y/N, Goddess of Hope, to the best of your ability, fulfill my wishes and conditions, with honor, nobility, truth and justice?”

You slit the palm of your hand, blood dripping in rivulets as you grasped your sister’s bleeding hand “I will.”

You squeezed your sister’s bleeding hand as a silver chain began to form from the beads of your blood that mingled with hers “Will you Love, the Goddess of Love, honor, fulfill and satisfy each element of all my wishes and conditions agreed upon by both of us through honor, nobility, truth, loyalty and justice devoid of trickery, deceit, disloyalty and hatred?”

Love’s eyes were true and dark “I will. And will we both accept the consequences of breaking the deed through our willing actions and carry out what is necessary to mend the fracture?”

Love’s dark ocean blue eyes met your steady dark brown eyes as you both nodded “We will.”

Their hands were bound by several silver chains formed by both of their blood, that roped around their hands and sealed the deal every time they promised to each other and finally, the silver chains glowed and blazed brightly around their hands as they both felt the strength and gravity of the promises they had made to each other.

“Well, I better be off.” said Love rising from her seat and dusting off invisible dust from her dress, directing a cheery and lovely smile at you though she looked slightly shaken “Well, it’s so nice to have had a proper chat with you after ages. I see you are still sentimental about your pets. Speaking of your little pet... where is the creature you seem awfully fond of and hate at the same time? Has he been causing any trouble lately? Well, he wouldn’t have a way to do it...”

“What do you mean? What have you done?” you questioned feeling worried and anxious, a sinking feeling began to form in your heart as you thought of your troublesome friend who was a bit of a troublemaker who you were trying to help out but he was out having his own adventures. You hadn’t heard from him for a long time and even though your friendship wasn’t what it used to be, you were still worried about him. You had a bad feeling that Love had something to do with why your troublemaker was missing for so long.

“Oh, you are still so protective over him after everything you’ve been through. Isn’t that sweet? People do get sentimental over their pets.” replied Love with an amused and delighted smile as she made her way toward the door with a twinkle in her ocean blue eyes and when she caught the dark gleam in your eyes, she put her arms in surrender “Honestly, I didn’t do anything. This time the blame is not mine.”

You made up your mind to check up on your troublesome frenemy when Love called out with a honeyed voice “I look forward to seeing you at my wedding, dear sister. I hope you prepare that speech nicely.”

“Who knows I might start a war just to miss your wedding.” you retorted sarcastically and sassily infuriated by Love.

“You know, I want you to be my maid of honor and prepare a speech in my honor because I want to torment you.” replied Love with a grin of amusement as she looked at you with delight and slight hesitation.

You weren’t surprised at all as you rolled your eyes at your sister “Why am I not surprised?”

“And because you’re the sibling, perhaps the person in this universe who is the closest to me and means the most to me in a twisted and odd manner.” stated Love honestly in a thoughtful and matter - of - fact voice, her ocean blue eyes gleaming with truth and sincerity as her lips curved into a small sad smile “No lover, no friend has ever been so fun, so constant in my life except you... my best enemy, my oldest friend, always so brilliant from the first day we met.”

“I would love to have my oldest friend... my greatest enemy at my wedding.” said Love quietly and softly with a wistful and reminiscent gleam in her ocean blue eyes full of sadness and pain as her lips curved into a smile of a sister who was on opposite end of the spectrum and yet had a special place in her heart for Hope.

There was a pause that seemed to last an eternity because this was a confession of undying love from a sister who you grew up with, an enemy who loved chaos and wanted you to love it too and it felt rare, beautiful, tragic and deceiving all at once shocking you to your core, leaving you speechless.

You looked at your sister who was vulnerable and quiet waiting for you response and you exclaimed finally recovering from your speechlessness “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“Congratulations?” suggested Love with a small smile, her ocean blue eyes softening with hopefulness and quiet pain. “I love you, dearest sister?”

“I hate you, you pain in the ass.” you replied hiding a grin as you shoved your sister out of the door but there was an amused twinkle in your eyes as you nodded at Love whose lips curved into a small smile as you shut the door in her face.

At that very moment, Morpheus strode down the stairs, every inch a king, his face looking considerably rested and hair slightly mussed. Morpheus’ who had woken up in an empty bed came down to see you standing in the middle of broken glass and destroyed antiques, bruises forming on your face and blood dripping as you wore a thoughtful and troubled expression on your face.

His gorgeous blue eyes widened in alarm as he took in your tousled wild hair, the blood dripping in rivulets and the sweat on your brow, the shards of glass and broken edges on your clothes that were messed up and he caught you in his arms before you fell onto the floor, your strength giving away “Y/N! Y/N, are you alright? Who did this to you?”

“I’m fine.” you replied slightly unsteady and pale as you took a deep breath and cracked a smile at Morpheus whose eyes were filled with an unfamiliar emotion that you had never seen directed toward you. Fear of losing you. “I’m fine.”

Seeing him feel fear of losing you terrified and unanchored you with uncertainty because you were beginning to feel the treacherous spark of hope in your heart as his beautiful eyes skimmed along every little detail in your face.

“You’re hurt.” stated Morpheus, with seething sharp rage and quiet gentle concern burning within him as he brushed the shards of glass away from you and his shaking fingers touched the bruise blooming on your cheek “Who did this to you?”

You were touched by the beautiful gentleness that he gave you because he had never quite being so kind to you in your marriage but goosebumps rose on your skin as you heard the undertones of a sharp storm of oncoming rage and anger toward the person who had done this to you.

You opened your mouth to lie because you had handled it on your own but Morpheus sensed it “Please share your burden with me, Y/N. Who did this to you?”

You wouldn’t ask him to promise not to get mad. It was not in your nature to ask him to make promises he would not keep.

You could have lied to him and guarded yourself but the words slipped easily from your lips as his fingers danced softly on your cheek “Love. My sister, Love unexpectedly turned up today to invite me to her wedding and have a chat. And we greeted each other in our usual way.”

Morpheus looked at the broken French doors, torn curtains, shattered glass and vases, messed up trinkets and his dark blue eyes darted towards the bleeding cuts and bruises you had “And do you generally greet each other with such... murderous hatred?”

“There you go. You finally understand my relationship with Love. I’m fine, honestly. This is nothing. You should have seen Love when I finally won and beat her.” you replied with a weak chuckle, a proud glint in your eyes but Morpheus did not look amused as you began to heal yourself while he still held you as if you would vanish if he let you go “What is sisterly love if not the desire to slit each other’s throats?”

Despite all the bad blood that used to be happy affection and strong sisterhood that had turned into problems that couldn’t be solved, the trust that had burned into ashes and bruises and deep cuts, you had a flicker of hope that Love was still the good person who had once known and shared good times with and you could still save the bond of sisterhood sabotaged in their war.

“Touching. But your sister has crossed a line in harming you.” replied Morpheus coldly and darkly as his grip around you tightened in protectiveness surprising you, your heart skipping a beat as you felt breathless at how much Morpheus cared about you “She shall not do so any longer. She will be punished.”

Morpheus had thought the rivalry between these two sisters were not as deep as you had felt. Morpheus had thought last night it was merely two sisters who had deep misunderstandings and scars of pain lashed across their hearts from each other but there was a possibility of reconciliation. Morpheus had even given thought to gently persuading you to consider reconciliation and understanding with your sister because he knew what it was like to lose a sibling to hatred and he did not want the same fate to befall you.

But you seemed to take this deep, hateful rivalry and encourage it further with deeper anger and darkness. Morpheus gripped onto you tightly as he looked at you with protective concern knowing that this kind of rivalry would not end until one of you were dead. Morpheus saw the damage inflicted on you and felt an a storm of seething rage and anger toward your sister for even daring to think about hurting you. You were never to be hurt again. No one would ever dare think of touching a hair on your beautiful head.

Morpheus would ensure your sister Love would regret her actions and not escape the consequences of hurting you.

Panic swelled in your chest as you remembered Love’s quiet insane threat toward the Dreaming as you snapped “No! Do not harm her in anyway!”

Morpheus’ eyes were alit in fury and pain “Why do you care? She was going to kill you!”

You were deeply moved and shocked at how much Morpheus cared for your life that you thought did not matter to him as you replied with a mischievous gleam in your dark eyes with a bright and cheerful laugh “I’m not dead.”

“How can you laugh at this?” murmured Morpheus softly, his voice full of pained concern as his eyes flickered with gentleness and concern and noticed the red strangling mark left on your neck by your sister as his fingers hesitantly touched your reddened skin gently making you gasp at his soft touch “Your sister has hurt you. I cannot let this pass.”

“Why do you care? Because I’m your wife? Because you’re intent on showing me your chivalrous side so that I can easily be won over?” you snapped as your cheeks burned red at Morpheus simple touch, feeling something hurt and pained in you that Morpheus was finally caring about you far too late when he should have been so sweet, tender and gentle with you from the beginning.

This Morpheus who was with you was different to the one who you had been married to... here he was holding you making you feel that this was too good, too lovely and too good to be real as you held back a gasp at how much you craved his gentle and silk soft touch “I am not fragile and in need of protection. I can protect myself and if I require assistance I will ask for it!”

“You belong to yourself. Not to me nor anyone else. But I cannot let this pass because seeing you hurt is...” whispered Morpheus taking a sharp intake of breath as he looked at you earnestly and tenderly, lost for words and grasping to find them “...is terrifying me.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks and your heart pound loudly in your ribcage so loudly you were certain the whole universe could hear it as you stared at Morpheus in disbelief and speechlessness because it felt strange to have him care about you. It just felt strange to have anyone care about you, about your life at all.

All your life you felt your very existence ruined Morpheus’ life and yet here he was staring at you with earnest tenderness and genuine fear of seeing you hurt because you were infinitely precious to him and you finally found your tongue “I - thank you for your concern. You - um - but - I want you to know you shouldn’t worry over me too much.”

What were you doing? Why on earth were you stuttering like a foolish girl with hopes of love as you felt Morpheus’ tender stare burn you? Why were you suddenly blushing in shyness averting Morpheus’ tender eyes? Why were you shy in the first place? You didn’t like him!

Dearest sister, you can't conceal it, I know how you’re feeling and who you’re thinking of.

No chance. No way.

You swoon, you sigh, why deny it?

Please shut up and leave me alone.

“I believe someone needs to worry about and take care of you. You seem to have the tendency to land yourself into trouble and fight in it all alone.” replied Morpheus softly and tenderly as he stared at you as if you were the universe, vast and infinite, beautiful and precious.

You were frozen and breathless as you blushed but you retorted charmingly and cheekily “It’s not my fault trouble is attracted to me. And I’m too charming to get into trouble.”

Morpheus snorted in disbelief and amusement and you smacked him in his chest in exasperation as he chuckled “Perhaps your charm attracts dangerous trouble and bloodthirsty murderers.”

“Well, if not for my charm, you wouldn’t be alive. Or in love with me.” you replied casually and calmly with a cheeky wink that made Morpheus blush to your amusement as you finished healing yourself “Dangerous trouble and bloodthirsty murderers? Sounds like my kind of a good time.”

Morpheus cocked his head slightly as he looked at you in confusion and puzzlement “Sometimes when I think I have you figured out, you puzzle me even further. You are an unfathomable riddle I cannot understand.”

“Very good. Just the way I like it.” you replied as you snapped your fingers and everything in the house mended and had fixed as if there had never been a bloodthirsty fight in the first place. You were glad he was confused because you didn’t want him to figure you out yet. “Alright, I have a very busy day ahead of me but I’ve made breakfast for you... you can eat and then continue your quest with Matthew.”

Morpheus felt a pit of disappointment and despair form in his stomach as he realized you had left his arms and stood up away from him as if the intimate and sweet moments between you and him yesterday and today had never happened. Morpheus felt you were trying to guard yourself and distance yourself from him. Morpheus wanted the easy companionship, playful friendship and intimate moments they shared yesterday and today to grow and continue but today you had changed from a girl who blushed at his touch to a goddess who was guarded and calm, distant from him.

And Morpheus realized he had to find the ruby. It was of utmost importance to find it as soon as possible because in the wrong hands it would cause chaos and disaster. The sooner he found the ruby, the sooner he could rebuild the Dreaming and make it stronger, gather and unite all Dreams and Nightmares and restore their faith in him as the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

But as he looked at you finish stuffing a muffin and gulping down coffee, Morpheus realized that he could not let go of you easily. The Realm of Dreaming could wait for a few hours but the bond between the both of you were still fragile and vulnerable. You didn’t know how lovely you were but Morpheus wanted to show you how much he needed you and loved you. Morpheus wanted to fight for what they had shared yesterday, the intimate moments and domestic bliss of sharing secrets, companionable silence, playful friendship and blossoming affection and tenderness. The affection and tenderness between them was there buried deep within the damage of their relationship but Morpheus wanted to root it out, and plant it, nourish it and water it and make his relationship with you stronger and intimate and get to know you better.

Morpheus found himself wanting to be with you today and share his day with you, wanting to see how you spent the day as he burst out “Actually, I was thinking of spending the day with you. Me. You. Us. Together.”

You dropped your dagger that you were tucking into your belt as your eyes widened in amazement and shock at Morpheus’ words. Your shock was justified because Morpheus never cared about your duties and your Realm of Hope. In the beginning of your marriage, you had encouraged and tried to persuade him to accompany you in your duties and let you accompany him on his. But Morpheus had been cold and heartless letting you know that you were lesser than him in every way and he had no interest in your duties that he believed to be trivial and unimportant that came in the form of cruel remarks and hateful arguments. In time you had given up trying, and resigned to ruling your Realm alone and doing your duty with dedication.

You never expected to face the day where Morpheus himself suggested that he should accompany you on your duties.

You realized he was serious and as you picked up the dagger, you shook your head “It’s not a good idea. You have a quest to restore the Dreaming to its strength, My Lord. And I believe you should attend to such important duties instead of wasting time accompanying me performing my trivial and meaningless duties.”

Your voice was full of loathing and bitterness as you gripped another one of your knives tightly, tucking them into your belt remembering all those cruel and cold days of humiliation and loneliness “I shall be fine on my own.”

Morpheus’ jaw was clenched and his eyes were full of shame and remembrance at how he degraded and humiliated your very role and existence in this universe.

He looked hopelessly and helplessly at you holding yourself full of defiance and guarded composure knowing that he wanted to make amends with you “I am sorry.”

You stopped mid step as you heard him apologize sincerely and took a deep breath to see Morpheus state sincerely and honestly “All the time in our marriage, I disrespected and humiliated the importance of your role, your duties, your purpose and very existence in this universe. I thought of your duty as trivial and meaningless because I was ignorant to the very meaning of what you stood for. But in that cage... years and years... I understood then exactly what you stand for and how important you are. In those dark years... I learned exactly what humiliation and hope felt like. How important you are to everyone in the universe who feels that tomorrow may never be better, to everyone who believes there is no light at the end of the tunnel and believe that they are alone.”

“You are important. You are powerful. You save everyone in the universe. You have saved me.” said Morpheus quietly and sincerely, with genuine and passionate glint in his eyes stunning you with his passionate outpouring of words “I was an arrogant fool to think that you were nothing when you are the most powerful in this universe. Spending time with you is not a waste of time. I want to know what I should have known from the beginning... I want to know how your day is, I want to learn how you fulfill your duties as the Goddess of Hope.”

You remained silent. You were stunned. Your brain was still processing the surprise of receiving an apology from Morpheus for humiliating your very existence and purpose as the Goddess of Hope as tears sprung into your eyes.

“Please.” pleaded Morpheus softly in determination and kindness, his beautiful starlit eyes gleaming with tenderness and affection as he stared at you with a small soft smile. “I’ll do everything you say. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

You opened your mouth to protest, a warm and tender feeling blooming in your chest “I appreciate your apology but no, you can’t just bat your pretty blue eyes and get what you want from me! No, no - you are not doing this! You are not coming with me!”

“Well, it is my sacred duty as your husband and the Dream Lord to ensure that you do your duty uninterrupted by bloodthirsty demons and crazy family members who want you dead.” replied Morpheus smoothly and calmly, stubborn and unfazed by your exasperated gaze as he shot you a smug smirk as he relished the small compliment you had given him.

You processed his words and the warmth in your heart made you feel special and shy as you smiled shyly in amazement and disbelief at Morpheus “Are you guarding me?”

Morpheus nodded in steady unwavering tenderness and gentleness “Yes, yes, I am.”

You couldn’t help it, you burst into a bright and amazed smile as your dark eyes twinkled in wonder and shyness at the beauty and simplicity of this moment you thought was a fairytale and Morpheus’ lips curved into a tender and happy smile as he stared at the joy and shyness glowing in your face that he cherished with all his heart.

You laughed in disbelieving amusement and heart skipping wonder as you stared at Morpheus who was smiling at you “You’re seriously going to accompany me all day while I’m doing my duties?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave your side.” replied Morpheus honestly and sincerely with a soft and tender smile, his universe blue eyes full of joy and hope that was blooming within him as he stared at you with unhidden affection and adoration. “I’ll be by your side until the very end.”

You wanted to argue but you liked this feeling of daylight and hope that was treacherous and traitorous but for once you dared to let it bloom as you smiled at him “Well then, let’s get a move on, Lord Morpheus.”

Morpheus smiled brightly as if you had granted him all of the universe and you grinned at him widely feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as you made your way with him to the world that awaited your touch of hope.

Morpheus and you shared hopeful glances feeling that what laid ahead today for the both of you was going to be a special adventure for both of you.

Taglist

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eomereadig · 29 days

Text

Snippet: Breathe The Same Air

Written for the prompt “bloodshot” for @whumpril!

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Commander Cody

Rating: T

Tags: hurt/comfort, suffocation, poison gas, Commander Cody whump, Obi-Wan Kenobi whump, happy ending, self-sacrificing behaviour, could be read as a romantic relationship i guess

Full fic now avaliable here

The dubious gas was definitely poisonous then, noted. That certainly wasn’t how Obi-Wan wanted to go.

Over his own discomfort, he heard Cody speaking more urgently into the com, and then there was a hand on his arm, forcing him out of his pain and back to the moment. He might have been half-panicked, too, but Cody’s presence was a soothing balm nonetheless. When Obi-Wan forced his eyes open to look at him, having closed them involuntarily as soon as the stinging had begun, he realised he couldn’t see Cody through the smoke. His eyes burned and streamed for his trouble but that didn’t abate when he closed them again.

“How long can you hold your breath for?” Cody asked cautiously. Obi-Wan tapped his arm three times for three minutes.

“Shit.” And then he was back talking into his com again. Obi-Wan knew that like this, he wouldn’t have been much help, so made no effort to listen in. “I’m going to try and feel for an exit. Don’t move.”

Obi-Wan wanted to chuckle dryly, to tell him he couldn’t move, he couldn’t see but wasn’t able to do so for obvious reasons. When Cody’s hand left him, he had to swallow down another bout of panic. Unable to see, unable to breathe, there was nothing tethering Obi-Wan down and he had the irrational fear he’d float away if it persisted. But Cody was already gone - there was nothing he could do about that.

He could feel the other close by through the force, Cody’s concern like a beacon as he searched for an exit, or even another vent to help the smoke filter out. The sounds of him speaking into his com were muffled and muted but the urgency in his voice was clear.

Ice in his blood and his pulse hammering in his ears, Obi-Wan felt his face beginning to go red as the little capillaries beneath the skin started to break. They were running out of time. One way or another, Obi-Wan would need to breathe.

He heard a little banging coming from Cody somewhere else in the room, but whatever idea he’d had was quickly abandoned.

Obi-Wan thought he really should have listened to his gut, earlier. His legs were starting to feel like jelly, forcing him to lean back against the wall close by for support.

When Cody came back, the touch returned to Obi-Wan’s arm and he tried to focus on it as best he could.

Full fic now avaliable here

#whumpril 2024 #star wars #star wars fanfics #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #livy's writing

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Note

Hey Jo, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this but I wondered how you deal with fic popularity (both having and watching others)?? I’m struggling with feeling bad and just wanting to quit. If this feels uncomfortable to answer don’t worry xx

hi anon! i'm sorry you're struggling a bit and feeling bad, just wanna give you a hug! i don't know if i'm the best person to ask this, but i'm gonna give this a little go.

as a concept, i try to remind myself not to get bogged down with numbers, because they're a fickle thing. they change with the wind, sun and the rain. because your worth isn't equated to your notes/followers/popularity.

it's important to remember that there are times fics will do really well because of the tropes, the pairing, the timing - and not the quality of your work. you can sometimes just write one thing and it gains traction, and another time write something in the same style, and it doesn't. the other thing is, some fics grow. they take time to bloom and find their audience, and that's okay too.

fandoms are also different sizes. so you can never compare numbers on numbers, because in one fandom the people reading/engaging may be different to another.

i think i did a post on this a while ago - but my tags are all wonky so i can't find it (watch me find it when this posts) so i can't link it.

but, i know it's super easy for me to say "don't get bogged with numbers", and "try to focus on how you felt writing it" but somedays, even i look at things and wonder to myself what i've done wrong. it's normal, natural - i'm sharing something, and i'm critical and i want to deliver good things to lovely people like you. however, i think you'd tell me that my worth is also not attached to my followers, my notes or my popularity. but it's easy to tell someone else that, than yourself.

and, more importantly, me delivering good things doesn't equate to notes. sometimes, what someone else loves and thinks is a 10/10 is going to be different to another.

because what makes fandom so cool and good, is that it's varied.

people want different things. people write different things. and i preach this far too much, but you just need to find your people - or if you have, give them time. some people are snowed under with tbr's and others are trying to bury their issues in writing (talking about myself here), and others are just trying to juggle too much that their tumblr is less active.

the main thing i hope you takeaway, other than your worth not being a number, is that you have to find and remember why you love what you do. and if you don't know or can't remember, remind yourself.

go back through your work and read it - preferably in a different browser or something (so it looks different to you) and enjoy your own writing. pick out quotes, bask in what you've created. you are your first fan, the person you should write for first. so, be a fan. celebrate yourself. give yourself a pat on the back or a high five, because look, it's fucking hard creating, and it's even harder sharing it. and on top of that, fighting imposter syndrome is hard, fighting dark clouds and rainy days is hard. it is. i can't pretend it isn't.

i can't pretend it doesn't hurt when you stare at your published piece and your brain begins to wonder what you went wrong (for whatever reason that is, whether it's numbers or just something else). because it's normal to look for validation that you did a great thing and it hurts when you don't get it. but, you have to curate your experience - you have to do the things above:

remind yourself you're worth is more than a number

love what you do first. i recommended to someone/people recently to copy some of their fave lines into a document when they're editing so they can be like "fuck yeah, i did that"

also @trulybetty pointed this out to me (and it's been a god send) but on mobile (and on desktop but it's messier) you can filter out your activity. on the top left there's "all activity" but if you click it, you can filter out likes, mentions etc. and for me, i've filtered out likes, which means i can see more of the comments, reblogs (with the hashtags) and mentions - so not only do i not miss anything, but also i'm seeing more of the things that make me smile. it's not a slight on likes, but sometimes it hides all the good things that get buried.

i hope in some small way some of this is nice, and it helps. but if not, just remember you're not alone, we're all human, and you deserve to be here, and pls, pls continue writing and don't quit.

#jo: writing advice #asked and answered #anon

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mommalosthermind · 4 months

Note

How do you block and filter fics with rampant racist micro aggression since that's never tagged properly and the writer will have a white meltdown if they're ever confronted with the fact their fic is racist?

I honestly can’t tell if this was in earnest or if it’s meant to be another Gotcha! Attempt from one of the anti-censorship posts I’ve annoyed people with, so I’m going to assume it’s the first and do my best to answer.

As a white woman, I am definitely not someone who should be speaking on racism, since the systemic issues I deal with are very very different.

Unfortunately, though, your experience with such a fic is going to mirror what I’d imagine is also your experience with most other forms of media which don’t flag that kind of behavior: bail. Back out. Don’t finish the thing that is upsetting you. Possibly, (as I’ve done with authors on issues that hit home for me) take note of who’s behind the thing so you know to avoid them in the future, as they’ve broken that trust.

This is also known as curating your space. I don’t remember if I go on that rant in the other two (three?) posts that seem to have picked up, but that’s the READER’s side of the equation. Find your garden and tend it well, keep it how you like it, because it is for you and you alone.

My job as a writer is to tag to the best of my ability so you know exactly what you’re bringing into your garden. I don’t want to spoil your flowers anymore than I want someone to trample on mine.

Hopefully, as people talk about this more, authors will be more open to tagging/ modifying and/or adding a footnote for things exactly like this.

Micro aggressions are especially difficult, since (again, pulling purely from my lived experiences) getting folk to agree on what ‘counts’ is rough. But as an author— I want to share my stories. That’s the point! If I’ve written it, then I damn well better be self-aware enough to tag it, and be willing to ADD TAGS so I’m not breaking trust with the people I’m trying to give nice things to. Hopefully that makes sense?

I’m gonna say that again since I feel it needs it: if you’re comfortable enough to write the Real World problem happening, you’re fully capable of being able to recognize why someone might like the warning. Be kind. Tags only work if you use them.

On AO3, I believe they recently made it possible to block an author entirely, so they no longer show up in the results for your searches.

I’ve run across exactly one author I’d have blocked if it was possible at the time, because he refused to add tags to a story that… really needed tags. And, going through the comments in later chapters, dozens of people have asked him to update tags. He claims that doing so will ‘ruin the story’ despite the graphic raped-to-death-then-magically-revived bit having literally nothing to do with the plot at all. Instead, it comes out of literally nowhere in an otherwise really well written tale, and was deeply deeply upsetting to the point that his response to my first chapter squee was “yeah, tell me if you still like it after chapter X”. (Unfortunately i am a very fast reader and had already gotten that far and bailed immediately. Dude if you KNOW it’s THAT upsetting to so many people ADD THE TAG.)

I’ll never read anything he’s written again, just like I refuse to read anything by JKR ( awful human) or Terry Goodkind (I can’t stand how he handles his female characters. At all.)

Obviously these two examples are not identical, but it’s the main comparison I have on hand.

This isn’t meant to sound like I’m belittling or downplaying that concern at all. But until people get better at tagging—and I really wish traditional books and other media would ALSO tag, because I’m very very tired of running into Specific Things without any fucking warning— you have to protect yourself and your happy place by putting up a fence, and booting unsavory things right back over it.

—side note: for those worried about spoiling the plot you can…skip the tags... just know you’re choosing to walk in blind. OR! And I wish i could figure it out—you can add! A hyperlink! That takes you to the footnote at the BOTTOM to add things that deserve a warning but might be spoilers! There’s even a tag for that! ‘More tags in notes!’ These are good and useful things! Use them so your readers can better curate their spaces!—

The system isn’t perfect by any means. There are a million ways to improve, and we’re trying! But please, please y’all use the damn tags because right now it’s the only system we’ve got. Take care of each other.

#momma talks #answered asks #anon #Not sure i worded this well but i fuckin tried damn it #ao3 #tags #racism #fics #curating your spaces #writing

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snaillock · 8 months

Note

noo, bc i fucking feel yall. bc a fic i read thr other day?!? "gn!reader" the next line is "reader could arguable be considered afab" and then out of no where the fic uses female anatomy terms??? the reader is not "arguably" afab. it is afab, and a warning tag like "afab!reader, but no pronouns used" would have been a better explanation for your fic.

i fucking DESPISE when people do that and refuse to put the actual gender of the reader in the actual post or the tags. its really not that hard. as someone who writes both female and male readers, i know how to tell my viewers which one they are so they csn steer clear of something they dont like. its just female readers r considered "the standard" or "the default" with both female and male characters. (finding fem char x male reader is the hardest thing on earth omg but anyways)

and untagged drabbles are the WORST at this. there's no gendered tag and no warning at the top of the post so i assume the reader is gender neutral only to ve bombarded with fem terms. even if a creator doesnt want to put the reader's gender in the fic warnings, but it in the tags. it really isnt that hardddd. all tumblr writers need to have a seminar about tagging fics correctly and stating what is actually in your fic. or we all need to learn a03 etiquette or smth. bc being a male reader sucks😭

(srry sbout this rant. i just needed to say it)

nsfw mentions for anyone else reading!

dude yesterday i saw a fic that was legit tagged “gn reader, reader is called mama.” like how is that a coherent statement. it’s almost comical to me. one of infinite examples of what it’s like to look for fics on tumblr. like im BEGGING and PLEADING to people to think about what the neutral part of gn means.

i hate also when writers do “gn!reader that could be seen as female” when 90% of the fic makes it so so obvious like shut up that’s totally fem reader.

when people use afab as some cool fancy ass synonym for woman also irks the shit out of me but that’s a whole other conversation.

i fucking wish putting “character x female reader” or whatever gender in the actual tags itself was a much more common practice so filtering would actually do something. unfortunately the only people who actually do it consistently are of course the ones who write male reader fics.

like people shouldn’t be allowed to leave their fics untagged if it isn’t 100% gender neutral. like give me some indication god please. it’s even worse when i’m going through the blue lock tag so most of it is just untagged fem smut drabbles so it’s like a double smack in the face for me. like give me a heads up at the very least.

honestly i should just start fining people whenever they screw up with their tags. like straight up start demanding money for emotional damage charges.

(speaking of fem char x male reader, once i transition into more multifandom, i’m for sure gonna start doing those as well. the lack of them just makes me so so sad)

also don’t worry about ranting bc im so glad i have yet another chance to complain about this for the second time today. being mad about this stuff is like the whole reason why i even made this blog

#★ snail.mail ★#★ the sillies <3 #i’m debating whether i should add more tags so this discussion gets more reach #★-murr

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bbygirl-aemond · 10 months

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i want to write an hotd fanfic so bad… i’m watching the early GOT show too as well to try and wrap my head around the lore but i fear that my fic will still be very amateur and show that i don’t really have that big of a grasp on the lore and worldbuilding and language around me.. can you give any advice onto how to tackle this? any specific ways i should research or how to remember every little thing to make the story as accurate and correct as possible?

hi and welcome! don't worry, i have been through this exact process within this fandom haha. i was the queen of sparknoting my way through my lit classes in college when i didn't have other time, so i think i've kind of perfected the art of making it seem like you've deeply read something, even if you haven't.

let me give my usual disclaimer that i don't recommend reading fanfic to get a sense of characters or worldbuilding in a new fandom. that's because to a fresh eye, it's impossible to tell what is the author's invention/headcanon (which may be incorrect/ooc) and what is actual canon. fanfic writing should be about indulging yourself and your creativity, not about trying to cater to the most popular opinions even if you don't agree with them. so i really do recommend sticking to canon as much as possible, and being very deliberate about where and when you use fanon as a reference.

i create a tumblr blog for every fandom that i'm planning to write in to serve as a repository for my research and notes. this blog is unusual in that i forgot to make it private and then had too much fun engaging with y'all to go back. but my first posts were all specifically for stormbreak purposes. if you're nervous about putting things out there, you can password-lock your blog, so you're the only one with access. being able to sort with tags for characters, houses, etc. will be super helpful. another good idea is to take notes in google drive, since you can also search for things there and use the outline feature to navigate. the goal is to have one or two places where you compile all of your work that are easily navigable.

a really good starting place for research is this particular asoiaf wiki. i do not recommend any of the others, especially the ones based on individual shows, because those often do not include details that are in the books. i genuinely cannot tell you how many hours i've spent on this wiki. start your research here- look for dates, places, events, houses, relationships, appearances, etc.

meta analysis is also a really good idea to gain knowledge. tumblr or reddit are the places to go for this. it's really important to seek out posts that are both sympathetic and unsympathetic towards characters or houses. the goal is to get a sense of the different opinions within fandom, and decide which ones make sense to you. on tumblr, you can search a term, select for text posts, and scroll until you find big walls of text. (as an aside: if you're doing this, blocking tags related to fanfiction, imagines, xreader, etc. will help streamline your search and filter out headcanons in favor of meta)

lastly, and be careful with this one since it is fanon but not canon: memes! twitter and tiktok are great for these. they're great for getting a sense of vibes, but not for actual canon facts about a character. remember, fanon can sometimes be very distant from or even contradictory with canon, so take these with a grain of salt. i do still find them useful for forming opinions about personalities, mannerisms, and attitudes of different characters.

if you want more info about how i actually planned out stormbreak, i've answered an ask about it here!

#hope this helps anon!#ask #asks #answered #fic: stormbreak #fic #stormbreak

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etoilesombre · 2 years

Text

OK I’M DOING IT. I’m starting over the Fetch Phillips Archives with book one, The Last Smile in Sunder City, and I’m going to yell about it on here extensively because there is absolutely no reason you would be following me other than that you enjoy Black Sails, and I virtually guarantee that if you enjoy Black Sails you will enjoy Sunder City. So I’m dragging as many folks with me as possible into this new brainrot.

Key Points, without spoilers (from here you should just filter Sunder City as a tag until you’ve read it if you don’t want to see):

1) Luke Arnold can write actually! I avoided these books for so long because I didn’t want to know if he couldn’t, and these were just getting published because he’s an actor. But no. The style is very consciously tongue in cheek Noir, especially at the beginning. It’s not perfect, I do think they get better through the series but this man can turn a goddamn phrase, WOW.

2) He was working on the first one on the set of Black Sails, and showed Toby Stephens (I think both the Toby’s actually?) drafts. Which just warms my heart so fucking much. As someone who writes, just, that is the most intimate personal thing you can do and I love everything about it. Anyway, you can tell. Which leads us to:

3) The books engage with a lot of the same themes as the show. “Monsters” and who they really are as a concept, most notably, but also stories and how we tell them, how we understand ourselves, and how guilt and trauma inform self concept. And uhhhhh look I’m not SAYING he’s writing silverflint magic AU but... well if you keep following along I will probably be saying that later.

4) Luke Arnold is radical as fuck. Just. It becomes clear and I love it.

5) These books are SUPER QUEER ok. Both canonically and implicitly. Queer, monsterfucking, complicated and nuanced. There’s even a hot nonbinary demon. Fetch is sure some type of way, and I have FEELINGS about it that are likely soon going to be fic.

6) GET THE AUDIOBOOK. if you can at ALL stand audio as a format, it is a completely different experience to the paper books. Truly, his acting skills come through, these are more like an old radio drama than a normal audiobook. As @jaynovz pointed out he doesnt use a ton of dialogue tags and tone indicators because he clearly knows how he would read them and that he’s going to. and that’s fine, it works without, but its a completely different experience with his voice acting. and its basically porn jfc his voice i mean what?

6) All of that said, the level of dysfunction, self loathing, substance use, poor choices, and general disaster is VERY HIGH. I happen to love that, but if you do not, definitely skip it.

#sunder city #last smile in sunder city #fetch phillips archives #luke arnold #sunder city lb

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dawn-the-rithmatist · 2 years

Text

A little long thing on censorship and boundaries on the internet

Okay prefacing this by saying this post is only written for tumblr and ao3. If you go beyond those I have no knowledge for you unfortunately, but maybe people can chime in in the notes.

Starting off, each person is responsible for controlling their own internet experience. We’re lucky that tumblr does not have an algorithm that forces unexpected things onto your dash (aside from blazed posts and based on your likes, but more on that later). You are in complete control of the content that appears on your dash, based on who you follow. Likewise, on ao3 you’re able to filter searches so you see what you want to see, and no one is making you click on the things you don’t. No one owes you anything with their content, aside from the ability to avoid it if you choose.

Follow up, you are responsible for making your content avoidable for people who don’t want to see it. If you’re writing the kinkiest fic out there, that’s fine. That’s yours to write and share as you wish. But you’re responsible for tagging it so that people who aren’t after that kind of material don’t see it if they want to. That way you get people who are happy to see/read your works, and people aren’t confronted with 50 Shades of Gray when they were really just looking for some PG hand holding.

Basic tags for those who aren’t used to tagging systems are whether it’s NSFW, any particular kinks, and any potential triggers (things like gore, underage, no con, suicide- if there’s an archive warning for it on ao3, it’s probably something you should tag so people can avoid it). Make sure that you spell the thing out without typos or euphemisms or @ny w31Rd $tuff that would lead to it NOT being filtered. (We don’t Unalive here, we kill, and Unalive will show up even when kill has been filtered out.)

What if someone I follow reblogs something that I don’t want to see or find problematic? If it’s something specific you’re trying to avoid, tumblr has tag filtering. You can block tags related to that thing, and it won’t show up on your dash uncensored. In case you ever want to see what’s behind that censor in spite of the tag, you’ll have the option to view it anyway- you won’t miss that the post exists entirely. If it’s something that hasn’t been tagged, it might be a good idea to (kindly!! Respectfully!!) request that the person tag it appropriately. If they refuse, you might want to unfollow them so you don’t have to see it anymore.

I unfollowed someone whose content bothered me, but my mutuals keep reblogging it so I still see it on my dash. You can block them! Then reblogs won’t show up on your dash, no matter how many mutuals reblog it. Blocking someone does nothing to them- try not to see it as something aggressive or offensive. You have the right to control what you see online, and blocking is a way to do that more effectively. You can always unblock them later if you change your mind!

Things from people I don’t follow keep showing up on my dash. This could be a couple of things. If it says “based on your likes!” or “tags you follow”, that’s something you can disable in settings (I can edit this post later with the exact locations) and tumblr won’t show you those anymore. That said, those are still subject to tag filtering, so that’s also a good approach if you don’t want those things to go away completely.

Now that blazed posts are around, there’s a chance you might get something you don’t like through that, but I’m not sure if there’s a way to filter those out. I haven’t seen a blazed post from tags I block yet, so… so far so good? If anyone knows, please chime in!!

Some content shouldn’t exist online, even if it can be blocked/filtered/avoided. This is the most important point on this post. I do think that some things shouldn’t exist online. My mother also thinks some things shouldn’t exist online. However, we don’t agree on what those things are, and we both agree that there are some cases where we would make exceptions to our rules. If we start purging content that we don’t agree with, it’s going to become a question of who is disagreeing with the content. Gotta be honest folks, in that scenario, I’m pretty sure the voices that get listened to will be straight, cis, and white.

TL;DR: Internet freedom disappears when we allow censorship, but we do still need to protect each others’ boundaries when we’re online. The best way to do that is to tag your content (no tag limits on tumblr or ao3, so don’t hold back! Only the first five count for searches on tumblr but the rest can be used for filtering blocked tags), block and filter things you don’t want to interact with, and unfollow or block people who you can’t trust to respect boundaries.

PLEASE reblog this post and add on anything you think is relevant, because this feels more relevant than ever right now <3 thanks friends

#ao3 #fanfic #tumblr #censorship #long post #<< tags that will affect searches are to the left #TO BE CLEAR. I KNOW PEOPLE KNOW THESE THINGS. BUT WE HAVE SOME NEW FOLKS AND IT’S WORTH REPEATING. JUST IN CASE #ngl every time I see someone say ‘this shouldn’t be allowed on the internet’ I get more anxiety about the future of the internet #because if we let people start banning things they’re coming after tumblr and ao3 with the wrath of a christian white suburban mother #dawn speaks

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enbyboiwonder · 4 months

Note

any combo of these for the fic writers ask? ❤️👻🏷👓😎💛💌 (also, hope you're doing well!)

I think I’m doing probably so-so (though I was doing better before this disgrace of a website reloaded the tab when I was 95% finished answering this and I had to restart from scratch—I am salty). I dunno how long it’ll last, especially since it’s not simply a periodic downswing, but oh well. I think playing Neverwinter Nights (and fantasizing about if not always writing Hero/Tomi fic) might be helping though, or at any rate, it ain’t hurting.

Send me fanfic author questions!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

The reason it took me so long to answer this—at least, before this sorry excuse of a website decided to delete everything I’d written because apparently autosaving to drafts is a thing for every type of post except ask responses—was that I had to go back and reread all (well, almost all; some of them I’d rather like to pretend don’t exist and either A. I’m still undecided on whether to orphan or not, or B. I can’t orphan them because they’re part of a series) the fics on my account. Is it weird that my fics don’t really stick in my head that long? Even when I don’t all but block them out. Anyway, it might be…

He feels safe—god, he feels like home.

from Don’t Tell Me Where the Road Ends (MacGyver 2016, macdalton). It’s not anything fancy or eloquent or anything, but idk, I still like it.

Or maybe…

He watches with poorly concealed amusement as Chika seems to work his way through all five stages of grief and back in the span of about two seconds.

from The Shape of Soup (2.43, yunichika)

(Yeah, I had difficulty choosing, so the rest—and the rest of the questions—will be going under the cut for length vvv)

Or even…

Somewhere along the way, his admiration has turned from jealousy to want—from wanting to be him to just wanting him.

the line that birthed not to remain as just a wish (2.43, odaoki)

Or possibly, since I feel like I should have one that is imagery-type/more poetic/(would it be conceited to call it eloquent?)…

His whole body is alight with the fizz of cider close beneath the surface of his skin, overflowed from the cavity of his chest to spill down his limbs and climb up his throat, pooling and sparking in all the places that Mao touched him like senkou hanabi, like miniature fireworks all their own, the brightest of all where Mao's fingers are still tangled with his, and it's wonderful and overwhelming at once.

from candy-apple red (Girls Blue, kisaragi/mao)

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I don’t think I have any tbh? My headcanons all tend to be more the run-of-the-mill type and/or generally accepted fanon and/or stuff extrapolated from them being clearly ADHD and/or autistic. They’re small things, like Yuni liking spicy foods but being unable to handle sour stuff while Chika loves both, or Nao liking space but not particularly caring for sci-fi, even sci-fi that’s set in space. In fact, both of those I came up with while writing the fics they show up in lmao (Lemon Squash and 流星群, respectively. Though, technically, Chika liking lemons—with the sort-of implication that Yuni doesn’t—showed up in The Shape of Soup, but that was just lemons.)

🏷️ Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

I don’t think I’ve ever gone into a content tag outside of when I was trying to see how to do something while attempting to write smut. It’s never really worked out. Even when I think I’ve figured something out, it all flew out of my head as soon as I opened my own fic. At least I prefer writing non-smutty fics, or this would be a much bigger problem than it is lmao

No, usually what I’ll do is just go into a ship (or character) tag and filter out any tag I come across that I don’t want to read.

👓 What helps you focus when you write?

Music, though that’s also just a general thing. Typically I’ll just listen to whatever I’m already listening to (which for the past few years has mostly been the 2.43 OST), but if I’ve got a specific song or set of songs in mind for a fic, I’ll generally listen to that instead. Sometimes when I’m rewriting a canon scene or writing something that includes one, I’ll just leave the show playing in the background once I’m done with it. (That’s actually how one of my 2.43 rewatches happened lmao, though I guess it only half counts.)

Of course, sometimes my brain will focus on that instead…

Yeah, I haven’t figured out how to reliably hack my ADHD. Mostly I just hope I’ll slip into hyperfocus (and then hope I’ll manage to finish it while I am, but that only very, very rarely happens. Normally I’ll come out of my daze to find I’ve added like 1600 words and I’ve got no idea how to write the missing bits).

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

It depends on my mood tbh. Also how much I hate canon (though it can make for some delicious angst, depending on why I hate it). But most of my fics end up being canon compliant, or at least not canon uncompliant, so I guess when it comes to writing, it would be that? Though I do also accumulate my fair share of AUs (but then, most of those are Canon AUs of one sort or another…)

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

I’m not so sure I’ve learned anything, and certainly not anything impactful, except that I have zero idea how to describe emotions. That, and it’s obnoxious af when people use epithets for the POV character. I can’t believe I used to do that. It makes me what to crawl into a hole and die in shame. Like, what someone/something is referred to in the narrative is how your POV character thinks of them! Your MC can’t be “the other man”—he’s the man! Everyone else is “the other” in reference to him! (That’s probably also why I’ve gravitated more consistently toward referring to the POV character by their given name, though I’ll still use surnames sometimes—and not just when we never learned their given name.)

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

I tend to prefer writing Pre-Relationship/Feelings Realization/Getting Together/First Kiss stuff over Established Relationship stuff, but I’m not so sure any of those are tropes. Wait, what does count as a trope. Cuz I also love Fluff (particularly the sappy stuff—I’ve had several turn out way sappier than originally intended) and Angst and Hurt/Comfort about equally, but I feel like those are closer to genres than tropes…

Hmm, well, I do love Character x Their Significant Annoyance (A finds B annoying/frustrating/exasperating/baffling/etc. but is still inexplicably fond of them anyway), and I feel like a lot of the fics I’ve written are for pairings with that dynamic, so let’s just go with that, shall we?

I’m also a sucker for tropes in the Fake Dating to Real Dating/Didn’t Realize They Were Dating/Practice Kissing area, though I haven’t finished very many of those, and I also love Crossdressing (particularly sticking unfeminine men in women’s clothing and/or guys just casually wearing women’s clothes), but I haven’t finished any of those, either. Granted, some of those involve smut, which could explain it, but it’s not like all of them do. Half or less.

Plus there’s The Italicized Oh, and I love sticking those sorts of moments into my pre-relationship fics, even if there is no actual italicized “oh.” Just—the yearning. I’m an absolute sucker.

#answered #thx for the ask!#ebw.op

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accidentalmistress · 1 year

Text

New Accidental Mistress Fic

IT IS TIME. I do apologize for the long wait, but your patience has allowed me to draft a lot of new material over the period of NaNoWriMo. I'm really looking forward to having a lot of content to release, especially poised at the beginning of a new year.

This next fic takes place directly after the events of Enter Knight. You can find links to all Accidental Mistress content here. I recommend reading Experiment 239-158 and Enter Knight before this one, as they come first chronologically. Stray Cat, which features Oliver, is standalone. Heads up, this new one is my longest yet. It's also kind of a hybrid snz/whump fic.

At the Silver Market

Length: 7068

Content and warnings: male sneezing, whump, description of a panic attack, mention of self-harm/suicidal ideation

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

Were there something you desired on the continent of Dryste, and even a few of the lands beyond, chances were it could be found for sale at the Silver Market. Row after row of shops exuded the pungent richness of exotic spices, the shrill calls of birds and other animals, the lilting strains of lively music, the savory scent of roasting meat, the dazzling rainbow displays of fabric, the chiming ring of struck metal, the tingling chill of magic, and so much more—all amid the crush and pull of a sea of people of every race and species.

Never staying in any one place for long, the sprawling marketplace had ballooned to hundreds of vendors over the years as it made its annual circuit across the lands. Some traveled with the Market itself. Others were local merchants and artisans taking advantage of the crowds. Anywhere they set down turned into a small city of tents and stands, caravans and carts, all bursting with colorful wares and equally colorful merchants hawking them.

“That would look lovely on you, Mistress.”

An uncomfortable mumble filtered through Noelle’s thick, black scarf as she fought the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Um, p-please don’t call me that when we’re in public.”

“As you wish.” Oraion leaned down to her ear and dropped his voice to a sultry murmur, his long hair tickling her shoulder. “Noelle.”

The tip of his nose brushed her ear with a sniffle that could only be deliberate. So much for not blushing…

“The point stands.” He straightened up again with a toss of his deep red tresses. “You really ought to, erm, expand your wardrobe beyond these drab, baggy frocks and knit scarves you always wear. You have a nice figure, my dear, you should show it off more.”

“Noelle can wear whatever she wants to.”

On Noelle’s other side, Quinns trudged along with their hands thrust in their pockets and their green eyes locked resolutely ahead, as if somehow they could ignore Oraion out of existence. It would be more convincing if they could stop sniping at him.

“Of course she can." The demon Oraion, currently disguised as a human, paused and rubbed his nose with a handkerchief. There had already been one sneezy incident that morning, leading to Quinns's discovery of Noelle's recently acquired "roommate," and Oraion had been sniffling ever since they'd left the tower. Noelle suspected he had hay fever as well, but she couldn't bring herself to ask, especially not in front of Quinns. "-snf- I was merely suggesting she broaden her horizons. It does one good to get a change of pace, on occasion.”

The nearby merchant he referred to sold splendid finery in a wide range of beautiful jeweled tones beneath an awning of equally eye-catching colors. They even offered enchanted tailoring on the spot so any garment could fit any body. The dress Oraion had singled out was indeed lovely. Glossy emerald green silk cascaded down the full skirt, with a split up the front that revealed the rich, caramel brown layer gathered beneath. Fine embroidery in golden yellow adorned the hems in swirling patterns that evoked the image of interwoven vines. The bodice cinched in at the waist for a dramatic silhouette, with a ruffled neckline that hung off the shoulders. It probably cost more money than Noelle had seen in her life.

"It's very nice, Oraion… A bit too nice for me, I think. I-I wouldn't know what to do with a dress that, um, extravagant."

"Why, wear it, of course." He flashed her a roguish grin. "Whenever you wanted. You could lounge about the tower in it. I do highly recommend lounging about in fine clothing. Or perhaps we could find some swanky party to crash—"

"She means she can't afford it, you oaf." Quinns went from avoiding eye contact to glaring daggers in Oraion's direction, their voice a rough hiss. The blush in Noelle's cheeks deepened, though from a different kind of embarrassment.

“You didn’t need to say it…”

Quinns winced with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

A look of surprise crossed Oraion's face, his crimson eyes widening.

"Afford? I— … oh."

He lapsed into uncharacteristic silence, his expression thoughtful as they continued on past the shop. Noelle started to wonder if coming to the Market was a bad idea after all. Quinns, not one to miss an opportunity, took a fresh jab at Oraion.

"Welcome to the real world. We use money here in the mortal realm, or don't you have that in Hell?"

"No, we do." Oraion answered as calmly as if Quinns's question was genuine, his gaze still fixed on nothing in particular. "I've simply… never needed to worry about it."

"A spoiled, rich, playboy, huh? Figures."

The red-haired demon lifted his chin. "And what of it? Quite honestly it is difficult not to amass some level of wealth with the longevity and power of a Greater Demon, and I am by no means the wealthiest. Furthermore, I pay my taxes and make regular contributions to support orphaned children."

Quinns's face, pinched tight in annoyance, now slackened to a wide-eyed stare of disbelief.

“Like, demon children?”

“No, angelic ones—of course demon children!”

"You're joking."

"Not in the least. What sort of place do you think the Demon Realm is? You seem to have some misconceptions."

Quinns resumed their customary scowl and started walking faster.

"Tch. Whatever…"

"No, wait, I won't judge! I'm genuinely curious!" Oraion trotted after them.

Noelle smiled. At least they were getting along, and the conversation had turned away from her own financial burdens. She hugged her arms and tried to hold onto the smile, but with every step it slipped further away. She'd never placed much importance on her appearance before, but now, with the patched elbows of her blouse, the threadbare hem of her skirt, and the moth-eaten wool cloak she wore, she started to feel rather shabby.

Oraion cut quite the dashing figure with his burgundy silk shirt (which was buttoned up for once), black trousers well-fitted to accentuate his impeccable figure, and a belted sash about his waist. Today he also wore a fine, matching longcoat against the encroaching autumn chill made of black canvas with burgundy accents at the lapels, cuffs, and lining.

Though they were only friends, Noelle recognized that Quinns was attractive as well, especially in their smart uniform. The Knights of the Midnight Falcon favored a pale green jacket with gold buttons and braiding down the front. Their trousers were also black—not as tight as Oraion's, but still flattering to their trim, fighting-fit figure. Their dark cloak trailed behind them, giving them an elegant and dramatic air.

Noelle held back a sigh. Next to the two of them, she must seem a lowly pauper.

"So how does a demon know what the Celestial Realm is like?"

"Well, it's what I've heard. You know fallen angels: once you get them started on 'the good old days' they will Not. Shut. Up."

Noelle caught up with her companions and cleared her throat.

"Um, th-there's a shop that I want to find, and I think it would probably be rather boring for you two, so, um… I-if you want to go on ahead, I can… catch up later."

Quinns sighed. "That means she needs to go buy witchy things, and no, I am not babysitting him. He's your… servant… thing, so if you want to split up he should stay with you. Besides, you shouldn't be alone in a crowd like this."

After requiring another moment with his handkerchief, Oraion nodded.

"I admit I have to agree with our chivalric friend. Besides, if I'm to assist in your academic adventures into the arcane, I ought to be involved. That is why you summoned me, is it not?"

Noelle found it difficult to refute their arguments, though she would much rather take care of it herself.

"All right." She sighed. "You can come if you like. But if only one of you comes with me, it has to be Oraion. I… I can't really let you wander around on your own."

"Ouch, but also fair."

Quinns crossed their arms and huffed out a breath, thinking it over. Noelle could almost see them debating whether or not they trusted her to be alone with Oraion, never mind she'd already been living alone with him for weeks. Finally they sighed

"Fine. You two go ahead. I'll find something for us to eat in the meantime."

Walking alone next to Oraion, Noelle became keenly aware of the attention he drew from many of the people they passed. She noticed a group of young women giggling behind their hands and pointing. When their gaze fell upon Noelle she looked away, but not before she saw their expressions sour. She could feel their eyes boring into the back of her skull as the two of them moved on.

Oraion cleared his throat awkwardly and scratched at his cheek.

"So… I, ah, apologize if I offended you earlier. It was not my intent."

"Offended…? Oh, do you mean about that dress? I-I wasn't offended… a bit embarrassed, maybe, but not offended. It was lovely, but…" She sighed. "Quinns is right. I don't have much money. It's… tough to be a witch here. Or anywhere, really."

Oraion tipped his head to one side quizzically. "How do you mean?"

"Well, witches… s-sort of have a bad reputation, I guess? The Inquisition thinks we're heretical and dangerous. It took me a long time to get the villagers in Chambelf to trust me—that's the town nearest my tower. Most of them still don't really like me, but… they let me buy food, at least, and a few people will pay me for small spells or potions.

"That's how I make money, or sometimes they'll pay me in food or goods. Once, I gave old Mrs Lambert a salve to help her rheumatism, and she gave me two chickens." She chuckled at the memory. "I told her it was too much, but she insisted. Now I've got fresh eggs…"

Noelle glanced over at Oraion to find him listening intently with a small smile, which for some reason made her stomach flip.

"A-anyway, what I mean is it's tough for me to make much money as a witch, and I always need to be a bit careful about who I deal with in town, because there aren't many people who like me, and, well, I don't want anyone to call the Inquisition on me."

Oraion clasped his hands behind his back as they walked.

"Well, in my experience, humans do tend to be sadly narrow-minded. A shame, really—their prejudices cause them to push away things that are actually quite wonderful. But that’s their loss then isn’t it?"

Noelle's cheeks grew warmer, as did the feeling inside her chest. She didn’t want to read too much into his words, but still they chased away some of the gloom over her heart.

"And this Inquisition sounds absolutely ghastly," he added, "although such things usually are. I can't imagine they'd take kindly to me either…"

“Oh, um, here, though, at the Silver Market, there's all sorts of people selling all sorts of things, and no one really cares who you are, so long as you buy their goods. It's usually pretty safe. I always try to make a trip whenever it's nearby; there are certain things I need for spellcrafting that I can only get here."

"And that's where we're going now?"

"Mm-hmm. It's usually around here somewhere. It's a large, purple tent. At least, it was the last time I was here."

Oraion paused and stood up on his toes, looking around.

"I think I see it."

"Really?"

"Here, look."

She turned her head in the direction he was looking but couldn't see anything past the stalls and tents in front of them. Before she quite knew what was happening, something wrapped around her and she was lifted into the air.

"Wh-wha?! Oraion!"

His arms were clasped below her rear, hugging her hips close to his broad chest. With how tall he was, her legs dangled a few feet off the ground, and she grabbed onto his shoulders in a near panic. A powerful wave of heat flooded Noelle's face, but Oraion simply gestured with his head as though nothing at all were amiss.

"Over there."

She glanced quickly in the direction he indicated and indeed saw the peak of what looked like a purple tent rising over the next row of shops.

"Yes, yes, I see it! Now p-put me down!"

He spun around with her in his arms and grinned.

"Oh, but you're so light! I could carry you around all day! Of course, it would be a tad difficult to see where I'm going, what with your lovely chest in my f-face… oh dear…"

He wriggled his nose, blushed pink around the tip and nares, and drank deep of her scent with a sly look in his eyes.

"You're not wearing perfume, are you? -snf- You know how sensitive I am, and my n-nose has been- heh- i-itching all day…"

Held tight against his chest, Noelle felt his breath catch as he snuffled with increasing desperation.

"What if the s-smell makes me- hih- m-makes me- hih- s-sneeze- hiih-hiisshiuhh!"

He squeezed her tight, muffling the sneeze into her clothing. Nearly everyone nearby was staring at them now, and Noelle dearly wished the earth would open up and swallow them both whole. Heat still coursed through her face, and now it was joined by a similar sensation between her thighs. She hardly trusted herself to speak, but she managed a thready whisper.

"Oraion! I ordered you to be on your best behavior!"

"Ooh~ Are you saying I can do better?"

"I'm saying: put me down, now!"

"-sdnnf- Yes, Mistress."

He heaved a dramatic sigh as he placed her gently back on the ground. Noelle pulled her thick scarf up to her ears, which were surely steaming, and made a beeline for where they had seen the tent. She could hear Oraion chuckle and blow his nose while he trailed behind her.

How could he do that in front of so many people?! One moment he was apologizing for possibly offending her, and the next he was embarrassing her in public. She recalled how he'd also gone from throwing down the gauntlet with Quinns in her kitchen to eagerly inviting himself along on their outing with the speed of a leucrocotta after a bone. These mercurial moods—Noelle worried they were a portent of more troubles to come.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light inside the tent. At first she thought it lit by candle lanterns but quickly realized the light was too blue. Instead, the lanterns contained glowing motes that gave off a cool, pale glow as they floated serenely in their containers: will-o'-the-wisps.

The familiar scent of the shop had a calming effect on Noelle’s nerves: it was herby and earthy, the smell of magic and secrets. Oraion stooped to avoid hitting his head on the low entrance of the tent and almost immediately sneezed.

"HEISSSHUUHH! Guh, should have seen that c-coming- hih-HIHSHOO! Of course a shop like this would be- heh-hehh- l-lousy with i-incense… hiiih'tchu!"

"Um, maybe you should wait outside…?"

Oraion pressed his handkerchief over his nose and mouth to ward off the scent.

"No, no, that won't do… hh'TCH! Ngh- I must be on h-hand to provide advice. -sdnnf- It's for your studies, after all."

"But-"

He gently took her shoulder and prodded her further into the shop.

"Ah-ah, no buts—I insist. I'll be fine in a- i-in aheh-eehhsshuu!" He paused to quickly blow his nose and clear his throat. "In a moment."

Noelle sighed and tried to ignore the tingling warmth between her legs. It wasn't so much Oraion she was worried about…

He pointed out a few of the more esoteric objects in the store, mostly to say things like, "Huh, that's interesting" or "Fake." To Noelle's surprise, he was actually quite knowledgeable about various rare herbs and their magical properties and uses. He seemed particularly excited about a dark, indigo-colored powder sitting in a small porcelain bowl.

"Oh, you should definitely get some of this."

Noelle came closer and inspected the label.

"Noctisia root powder?"

"Oh yes, you can- eh'cht! eh'cht! -snndf- You can do a number of fun things with that… Well, a lot of them are making poisons, but still. It's quite versatile. It can be used in transmutational workings, divination spells, illusions…"

He coughed a few times, but Noelle was fairly certain she heard a mumbled, "necromancy", in the middle before his voice returned to full volume.

"Oh, and it makes a lovely tea."

"I thought you said it was poisonous?"

"No, no: it's used to make poisons. It's quite harmless on its own."

"Hmm… must be some kind of catalytic action… If that's true, it may have further chemical applications beyond poisons. That warrants further study.”

She measured out the noctisia root, as well as a number of other reagents she needed to restock, on the shop's scales and took her purchases to the shopkeep. She almost didn’t have enough money, but Oraion managed to haggle the older woman down to a much lower total. Noelle caught a slight crimson glow in his eyes as he spoke.

“Did you… do something to that woman?” She whispered as they left the tent.

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t mind-control her or anything like that. I can't use that kind of power. I only turned up the charm a bit, made her a touch more agreeable. It’s easy enough to influence someone to do something they might be inclined to do anyway.”

He gave a thick sniffle and rubbed his poor nose, which by now was nearly as red as his hair.

“Ugh, it’s good to be out of there. My sinuses are full of that incense, and n-now that- heh- now that w-we’re ah- out, I n-need to- to- hiih- hiiIIH- HIIshiuu! HEHSHU! hhIIHiih-SSSHIEEW! Guh- get it out of… my… HEEIISSSHOO! Eshu! Eshu! Eshu! AT-CHOO!”

He panted a few times before blowing his nose into his handkerchief, which was becoming quite saturated. Noelle made a mental note to get him something other than silk, as it barely absorbed anything.

“Hah… get it out of my system. Gods.”

“S-sorry.”

“For what? -sdnff- I insisted on coming in with you.”

“I know, but… it’s still my fault you’re like this.”

A smile tugged his lips as he leaned in close, his voice low and husky in her ear.

"Oh, I'd say it's a small price to pay for the reaction it elicits."

He brushed the tip of his nose along the outer edge of her ear with a languid sniff. Noelle couldn't help but shiver as images flashed through her mind: finding someplace out of the way, Oraion's strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her, pinning her against a wall while his tongue—

“Well, I suppose we ought to find our absent knight and see what sort of food they’ve procured for us, eh?”

The lascivious daydream evaporated like a thimble of water tossed on a house fire. Of course he was only teasing her again. Had he placed those images in her mind? Or were they her own fantasy? Noelle reminded herself that Oraion was an incubus: a demonic creature from another plane of existence. Despite his current appearance, he was not human—he did not think nor see the world the same way she did, and in fact preyed upon humans like herself.

She tried to smooth her expression, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her riled.

“Right, yes. Let’s go.”

Noelle fell into step beside Oraion as they passed through the market looking for Quinns. Again she noticed the attention the handsome demon drew. Now it only seemed to further illustrate the different worlds she and Oraion belonged to. He possessed the elegance and regal bearing of a noble; it must look like he was slumming it with her at his side. Maybe he was right about her needing new clothes, especially if they ever went out together like this again.

She was broken from her reverie by the sight of a lovely woman dressed all in black. Her long ears and dusky violet skin marked her as a dark elf, and she waved a graceful hand at them as she stood in front of a fine tent. Many strands of shimmering beads hung across the open doorway.

“My lord! A moment of your time?”

Noelle caught Oraion looking the woman up and down before his face lit up in one of those beautiful smiles he wore. She swallowed something hard in her throat. Of course he would pay attention to the woman: the dress she wore clung to every curve of her lithe body, flowing fabric just sheer enough to show the shape of her legs through the skirt, billowing sleeves that hung elegantly from her slender arms. Her black hair hung in a glossy sheet, perfectly straight and smooth, framing a pretty face done up in dramatic black makeup. She looked like the hyper-sexualized version of what someone might expect a witch to look like.

“Care to have your fortune told, my lord? Guaranteed accurate divination performed by a genuine witch of the North Coven.”

Noelle bit back a scoff. The North Coven, indeed: no such coven existed. Clearly this woman was a fraud taking advantage of gullible patrons, most likely young men she could rope in with her charms.

Oraion rubbed his chin. “Fortune telling, you say? Now that might be fun.”

“Are you serious?” Noelle hissed, tugging him towards her with his arm, “She’s not even a real witch!”

“Oh, come on, it’s harmless, then, isn’t it?”

He turned back to the “witch” with an amused grin.

“Very well, then. Tell me my future, O Witch.”

The woman smiled and parted the beads with a hand.

“This way, my lord, if you please.”

Oraion strode towards the tent while Noelled sighed and followed a step behind. Just before they entered, the woman held up a hand.

“Ah, my apologies, but your servant will need to wait outside.”

Noelle’s mouth went dry.

Servant.

Oraion's servant.

The woman was referring to her.

Of course. How could they appear as anything else to the casual observer? A finely dressed and handsome noble out on a lark with his plain, grubby serving girl.

A stinging sensation pricked the corners of her eyes as that hard feeling in her throat returned tenfold. The density and closeness of the crowd around her suddenly became keenly apparent and seemed to grow ever tighter with each moment. Sweat broke out across her skin as her breath turned quick and shallow. Her fingers trembled. The bag containing the herbs she'd bought fell to the ground, contents spilling. The world started to blur as tears welled behind her glasses.

She ran.

No destination, no direction, no plan. Driven by primal fear, she didn’t care where she was going so long as it was away. She couldn't breathe. She needed air. She wove between groups of people, around carts and stands and tents. Harsh sobs tried to rise in her throat but were trapped by the tightness that gripped her entire chest in a vice. The last she’d seen Oraion before losing sight of him around a corner, he’d still been talking to that woman without so much as a glance for Noelle at all.

* * *

It took Oraion a moment of confusion before he realized the so-called "witch" meant Noelle. He drew himself to his full height and looked down his, admittedly reddened, nose at her.

“She is not my servant, and how dare you suggest such a thing? Is this how you treat all of your potential customers? By insulting them? I’ll have you know she is my wife, and I shall not stand for this offense.”

The elf’s pouting lips turned up in an infuriating smirk as she placed a hand on her chest.

“My deepest apologies, my lord. I assure you I did not mean to offend you or your, eh, wife, but from your difference in dress, well, I assumed—”

“You assumed incorrectly. Now instead of apologizing to me, you ought to apologize to her.”

“Well, I would, my lord, only she’s gone.”

“Gone?”

Oraion turned around with a start. Of his mistress there was no sign: only her bag lay discarded on the ground. His gaze darted about the crowd, but the only faces he found were those of strangers. He cursed himself before rounding on the woman again with something hot behind his eyes.

“Tell me which direction she went. Now.”

Again her horrid smirk. The woman pointed without a word and Oraion stormed off in kind, snatching up Noelle’s things as he went.

How could she have slipped away without him noticing? Was it the hubbub of the market, the confusing tangle of living energy flowing all around him? A sinking feeling told him no: he was distracted by the suggestively dressed elf, her attention, and the opportunity to show off. Weeks had passed since he'd last properly fed, and his Hunger was getting the better of him. His mistress forbade him from feeding on anyone else (“innocent people,” as she’d put it), but the girl was so damned shy—what was he supposed to do? The collar he was saddled with prevented him from using his demonic charms to seduce her, and forcing himself upon her would defeat the purpose of pleasuring her.

A sardonic voice at the back of his mind suggested maybe he should try talking to her honestly for once.

He tried to refocus on the task at hand. He'd need to find Noelle before he could even start to worry about feeding. The question was, where to look? The Silver Market was enormous, and even heading in the direction she initially went wouldn’t help much if she had turned somewhere. Oraion stopped and stood on his toes, using his height to his advantage. Finally he spied something he recognized: not Noelle’s russet curls, but light brown hair shorn close on the back and sides.

“Quinns!”

He hoped he wasn’t mistaken; he’d only just met them, after all. He recalled Quinns had a thin, pale scar running vertically across their left eye. When the person he called to turned, there was that same scar and familiar scowl, hooded green eyes squinting against the sunlight.

Oraion pushed his way through the crowd to them, and they craned their neck around, looking behind him.

“I found the— uh, where’s Noelle?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I need you to help me find her.”

An angry grimace split Quinns's face.

“What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything! There was this fortune-teller— Look, it’s sort of a long story, suffice it to say someone upset her and she ran off. Someone who wasn’t me, all right? Now, I know you don’t trust me, and I honestly can’t say I blame you, but I need your help. Noelle needs your help. So are you going to help me find her or not?”

“Of course I’m gonna help find her,” Quinns snapped, “Where did you see her last, and which way did she go?”

Oraion gestured over his shoulder.

“Back that way, and apparently she came this way.”

“‘Apparently’?”

Oraion sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t see her myself, but someone told me she went this way.”

“You didn’t see where she went? What the hell were you doing?”

“That is not important! You can accuse me of whatever you like later, but that won’t help us find her now!”

Quinns took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of their nose.

“Okay, fine. You’re right. Let me think… Can you sense her at all?”

“In a crowd this size? I'd have to be right on top of her anyway."

"Not even with your connection to her?"

Oraion narrowed his eyes. "How do you mean?"

“You’re her familiar or her servant or whatever, right? Point is, you’re bound to her, so can you use that to sense where she is? Or a general direction, at least?”

Oraion cupped an elbow with one hand and placed the other on his chin.

“I’ve never tried it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. This whole servant thing is still new to me, but it’s worth a shot.”

He closed his eyes and called Noelle’s face to mind. He saw her as she was not an hour ago, smiling as she told him about her chickens, her eyes sparkling. Whenever she got excited talking about something she’d always cut herself off, embarrassed, and change the subject. He wished she would stop doing that. Who had convinced her that talking about her interests was something to be ashamed of? She liked growing things, warm tea, cozy blankets, and books. She took great interest in science and alchemy, and her skills with magic were considerable, if rough around the edges. Then there was the way she stole glances at him whenever he sneezed, how prettily she blushed beneath her freckles while a warmth—

“I feel something.”

“You do? Where?”

Oraion opened his eyes.

“This way.”

* * *

Noelle wasn't sure where she was anymore in relation to where she had left Oraion. She'd reached the very edge of the Market and stood, sniffling and trying to catch her breath, behind the tent of a blacksmith selling their freshly forged wares. No one else was around, save a slender kaltari deer grazing at the treeline on the edge of the field.

"I'm so stupid."

She took off her glasses and scrubbed her eyes with a sleeve only for fresh tears to spill over again.

"What is wrong with me?"

Why did she always run away? No matter what went wrong, her first instinct was always to run, whether literally or figuratively. Why else would she be living in an abandoned tower in the middle of the woods? Her past, her responsibilities, the things she had done—she ran away from it all.

And now what? Separated from her friends, no bag, no money; all she'd done was make a mess of things, as usual. Was she so insecure that one offhand comment from a random stranger caused her to have a meltdown? No, it wasn't just that. She remembered the way Oraion had looked the fake witch up and down when he first saw her, the radiant smile he wore. She could still see him chatting with the woman, a coquettish smirk on her black-stained lips, even as Noelle fled.

It stood in total contrast to the derisive sneer and harsh words he'd given Noelle on their first meeting.

"I can't believe I've been summoned to serve some—some mousy witch in a decrepit old tower!"

Would he have behaved the same way if someone like that dark elf had summoned him instead?

Noelle sank to the ground, sitting with her back to the tent and her knees to her chest. A treasonous voice sank its needle-thin claws into the back of her mind, whispering words that dripped into her thoughts like a viscous poison—the same voice that haunted her dreams.

If you die, that demon can be free. He would no longer need to bear the shame of being shackled to such a pathetic excuse for a witch. He cares not for you. He will not come for you. You have no purpose and no worth to anyone but me, little Single-winged Sparrow. And if you will not return to me, you may as well be dead.

This blacksmith sells many weapons, does he not? It would be simple to take one in hand, let the keen edge of a blade bite into your—

"No!" She moaned and slapped her hands over her ears, as if that could shut out the venom inside her mind. "Stop it! Get out of my head! Get out, get out, get out—"

"Noelle!"

The person she most and least wanted to see came pelting around the corner of the tent with Quinns hot on his heels. Oraion dropped to his knees beside her, his beautiful face tight with worry as he took in her distressed state, and then his warm embrace enveloped her.

"It's all right, it's all right. We're here. You're safe." His voice in her ear was low and soothing, but it also carried an unmistakable quaver of anxiety. Was he concerned about her?

Noelle pushed her glasses up and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. Her chest jumped with little hiccuping sobs.

"You- you c-came for me…"

"Of course I did. You're my Mistress."

"But… but I thought… you d-didn't like—"

He leaned back and looked down at her.

"I may not like being your servant, but that doesn't mean I dislike you."

"But I'm such a t-terrible witch! I'm pathetic and worthless and- and ugly! I don't deserve to be your—"

"Hey, hey!" He cupped her cheek with his large hand. "Don't say such things. I happen to know the charming young lady you're talking about, and I won't have you insulting her."

"Why?"

"Eh?"

"Why do you care?"

"Well, I… Y-you're…" He looked taken aback at her question, and even confused, as though he himself wasn't certain of the answer. After a few moments of thought, he finally said, "Well, we're… we're friends, aren't we?"

"Friends?"

"I mean, you don't exactly treat me as a Servant, and I should hope that after living together this long we'd be more than acquaintances. Or do you only see me as a terribly boorish houseguest?"

Noelle shook her head. Of course she didn't see him that way. She'd never minded living alone before, but now the thought of spending her days in the tower without him brought such a lonely ache to her chest. When had he become such an integral part of her life?

"Now, just breathe, all right? Take a deep breath."

To encourage her he took a deep breath himself, which immediately made his irritated nose crinkle. His ruby eyelashes fluttered as his breath hitched.

"Oh, th-that was a– a mistaa- hehh- hehIIH'TCHIU! Nguh… Okay, -snnff- maybe don't do it quite like that."

In spite of everything, a weak chuckle bubbled up in Noelle's breast, and she nodded, forcing herself to take a deeper, albeit shaky, breath.

Quinns took a knee in front of her.

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you? Did this guy hurt you?"

"No, I'm not hurt. -snf- And Oraion didn't do anything."

Oraion raised an eyebrow at Quinns.

"Oh ye of little faith."

"You're a demon! Of course I'm not gonna have faith in you!"

"You wound me. What have I ever done to deserve it?"

Quinns was deadpan. "You tried to kill me in Noelle's kitchen."

"Oh, can't we just let bygones be bygones?"

"It happened like three hours ago!"

"And in that time we have made significant strides in our friendship."

"We aren't friends!"

"And I forgive you for thinking so. Ah, speaking of forgiveness…"

His expression grew serious as he turned his attention back to Noelle.

"Mis—Noelle… I'm sorry. I was distracted, and…" He sighed. "I didn't even realize what had happened until I turned around and you were gone. Fortunately I ran into Quinns, but… Well, I won't make excuses. I can only apologize and ask for your forgiveness."

"Distracted… by that woman?"

He sighed and pivoted so he sat on the ground beside her, keeping one arm hugged around her shoulders.

"Well… I can't help what I am. I won't lie to you. I know I don’t look it, but I've been seducing mortals for hundreds of years. It's my nature, my instinct. It's not something I can always ignore. So I admit her physical appeal drew me in, at first, but I don’t care how attractive someone is: no one insults my companions and gets away with it."

An uncharacteristically bashful look drew his gaze away, and he scratched the side of his nose.

"So I, ah, may have gotten a bit heated and decided she needed telling off. I said you were my wife, actually." He lifted his free hand and shook a fist at the empty air as he began a dramatic reenactment. "'I'll have you know she is my wife, and I shall not stand for this offense!' It was all rather gallant, I must say. A shame you missed it.."

"I'm your… you said I'm your wife?!"

"Well, I was on the spot, and it's not all that far off, is it? We are bound together, you and I." He squeezed her shoulders and winked. "What, do you like the idea?"

"Quit messing with her! Hasn't she been through enough?"

"Come now; nothing wrong with a bit of levity to ease tensions."

"You're not easing anything! And back up a minute: you've been seducing people for centuries? What the hell kind of demon are you?!"

"Oh. Did I not mention I’m an incubus?”

"An inc— You're a sex demon?!"

"Shh! Are you trying to inform the entire Market?! It’s not quite so simple as that, but yes, I suppose you could say that I am a 'sex demon,' as you so crudely put it."

“Have you—” Quinns stopped short and turned to Noelle instead. “Has he- h-have you two—?”

Oraion cut back in. “That’s not exactly your business, my friend.”

“I told you: we’re not friends! And it is my business when there’s a demon involved!”

“It’s all right, Oraion, Quinns is my best friend, I don’t mind. Oraion and I have been… intimate, but not, um, a-all the way? Enough for him to, y-you know… feed. If he doesn't he could die, a-and I won't allow that to happen. I’m responsible for him, so… I-I need to take care of him.”

Oraion pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head.

“Gods, isn’t she adorable when she gets all earnest like that? However, I believe you are the one in need of care at the moment, my dear. So then: let's get you home, shall we?"

“Home? But… we haven’t been here that long. I-I don’t want to ruin the day… any more than I already have.”

“You haven’t ruined anything.” Quinns touched her arm. “If staying here is just going to make you miserable, I’d be a pretty terrible friend if I made you do it anyway. We don’t have to leave if you genuinely want to stay, but if you’re only staying for our sakes, that’s no reason to stay at all. I like coming here with you, because I like coming here with you. If you’re not having fun, I don’t want to stay either.”

“Um…” Despite their assurances, Noelle still struggled. Leaving now felt terribly selfish all the same, that voice whispering she must shoulder the blame for everything, that if only she were stronger none of this would have happened.

Oraion squeezed her shoulder and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, as though he were sweetening a deal while bribing a Justiciar. “I’ll make you some noctisia root tea.”

Noelle couldn’t help but smile. “All right. I think I would like to go home.”

As soon as she’d said it, a wave of relief washed over her, and she realized she’d made the choice she’d wanted to make all along.

“Oh! The noctisia! My bag!”

“Right here, Mistress.”

Oraion produced Noelle’s satchel from somewhere within his coat. Where could he have been keeping it? Noelle resolved not to think too much about it—after all, where did his wings and tail go when they were hidden?—and she took her belongings gratefully before checking the contents. Everything was a bit jostled around, but none of the individual containers seemed to have spilled, at least. Then she noticed a small pouch she didn’t recognize, a black drawstring bag about the size of her palm, so she drew it out.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, ah, I suppose you should open it and see.”

She did so at Oraion’s gentle prodding, tugging open the pouch and turning it over so the contents fell into her open palm. Sparkling silver shone in the midday sun. A pair of earrings, the metal rendered into the image of a pair of luna moths in exquisite detail, sat in her hand.

“Wh-where did these come from?”

“Do you like them?”

She turned and found Oraion looking at her with an expectant expression.

“Well, um, yes, they’re beautiful, but… did you…?”

He gave her shoulders another squeeze as a soft smile tugged at his lips. It wasn't the dazzling kind of smile he used to charm people. In fact, it was something Noelle did not often see him wear, something far more genuine.

“Come now, you deserve to have something nice. I don’t know your size in clothing, and having something tailored to you would ruin the surprise, so this seemed a better option.”

“But… they’re silver! You can't touch silver. How did you get them? A-and how did you pay for them?”

Quinns cleared their throat. “You still owe me for those, Demon.”

“Yes, well, I asked Quinns to go and get them while you and I were shopping on our own. So I suppose you could say it’s from the both of us.”

“Uh-uh, no, it’s your gift. I’m not gonna tack myself onto it just because you had me play courier. What, are you trying to worm your way into getting me to pay for half or something? No way—you owe me in full.”

Noelle clasped the precious gift to her chest. Fresh tears stung her eyes, but a happier kind.

“Thank you, I… I-I love them.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“Then they belong in your ears, my dear.”

The demon stood and dusted himself off. The sun caught his red hair and wreathed his head in crimson flame. He leaned over to offer Noelle a hand up, and she noticed for the first time that, even in his human form, his pupils were slit like a cat’s.

Oraion, the Greater Demon, soul-bound Servant of Noelle the witch.

Perhaps also a friend.

“Come, Mistress. Let’s go home.”

#accidental mistress #oraion the allergic incubus #noelle the awkward witch #knight errant quinns #snzfic #snz fic #snz #snzblr #snz ocs #sneeze fic

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