True Forms: Sides + New Characters
Once upon a time, long, long ago, we wrote some true demon forms for the demon brothers. And we had so much fun with it that we've returned with a follow-up! Now featuring not only demons but also some angels, a reaper, and one immortal "human" sorcerer.
No in-between forms for MC's sake this time though -- we die like men being driven mad by unspeakable, incomprehensible horrors.
Like before, content warning for unsettling, eldritch descriptions and body horror.
DIAVOLO
The Crown Prince of the Devildom doesn't often go into this true form -- it's incredibly dangerous, and if you see it, you might as well already be in your grave.
The first thing that hits you is the scent of sulfur and burning, so strong that you feel like you're choking on it, suffocating even though there's no smoke to be seen.
There is, however, plenty to be seen of him, as his form is utterly massive -- every direction you look, he seems to stretch infinitely around you, no end in sight to his immense presence.
To his sides, sparks and flashes of gold and darkness alternately flicker off of black flame wings as they languidly float back and forth behind him, singeing the very air they occupy.
The rest of his body mostly transforms into that of a dragon, much like the ornament you normally see upon his chest, covered in brilliant triangular golden scales except for the glowing red orb at his center.
The orb pulses like a heartbeat, and in it, you see yourself -- no, rather, you see a distortion of yourself, all the corruption and cruelty that hides in your very core laid bare before your eyes.
Meanwhile, fire roars everywhere, filling every open space around him and spiraling into a grand crown upon his head.
Despite the noise of the flames, however, his commanding voice can be heard clearly, a low rumble like the roar of a dragon yet distinctly regal and elegant in its tone.
On his chest, the black marks you see in his more humanoid demon form expand and twist outward, hypnotizing you as they wrap like vines around your body.
You hardly even notice as they capture you in a world of complete darkness -- darkness that overtakes not just your senses, but your mind, your soul, your whole existence, like a fire that burns away everything until there's nothing left in you but the abyss, all else turned to ash.
BARBATOS
To witness the true form of the ever loyal and capable steward to the Crown Prince of the Devildom, your fate is already sealed -- one of demise and ruin.
His body shifts and stretches, and stretches, and s t r e t c h e s -- you cannot see where, or if, he ever ends -- like time itself.
His body resembles that of a dragon -- though not the same of his master, but those creatures known across the human world as the lóng, the ryū, the druk, the nāga.
His face blurs, rots, melts -- bits of bone showing through flesh and one eye now just an orb of empty, everlasting black.
The spindly, web-like horns that grace his head grow thicker and longer, the talon-like ends even sharper than before.
Whiskers sprout from his face that are slick and forked at the ends, like his more humanoid-demon form tail, an electric buzz sparking at the end of them.
The scales along his body are black and teal, that familiar lightning pattern reflected in some while you catch glimpses of other universes as they gleam.
It is then that you notice you are slowly being buried in sand -- it cascades off his body, from the ridges in his back and gaps between those captivating scales.
Time itself seem to distort around him as he swims in the air, the very fabric of space rippling and warping against his form.
When he opens his mouth to roar, all that can be seen is a void of space inside, an all-consuming black hole.
There is an awfully maddening absence of sound, the very weight of silence seemingly suffocating and crushing you as you try to gasp for air.
The longer you stare into his face, his form -- the more you get lost and trapped across universes, seeing every branch of time lay itself out before you, over and over and over and over...
Your soul will be trapped forever in that endlessness, true death never taking hold as no reaper can ever reach you to claim it.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Every ghost story about haunted suits of armor originates from the true form of Mephistopheles.
In this form, he truly represents his noble heritage as proud knights tasked with defending the royal family -- grand, intimidating, gallant.
From afar, he seems exactly like those stories, an empty suit of golden armor with eerie peridot green lights glowing as eyes through the helm.
Atop this helm, a showy plume of magenta feathers swoops in a proud arc, and from his back, a grand set of opalescent, translucent feathered wings stretches impossibly wide.
Each flap of these wings creates torrential whirlwinds, tornadoes that tear destructively through entire cities in their path, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake.
Up close, however, it becomes clear that the armor is hollow because he is the armor -- though he usually keeps most of them closed for protection, eyes of green and magenta can emerge all over the gleaming metal plates.
Also dotting the plates are various gems and precious crystals, embedded throughout as if daring someone to come close enough to try to steal them, tempt them as demons so notoriously do.
Every movement, too, deafens with the cacophony of jewels crashing against coins, ringing out for miles and miles around him.
Looking upon this form always makes you feel slightly off, as though he's not standing quite straight, which in turn makes you feel slanted as if constantly slipping down sideways.
However, it's best not to look at all, as gazing upon him melts your flesh away to pools of thick, smooth black ink which indeed would make you slip and fall.
Before one would fully melt away, he opens up to consume any potential wearer of the armor, crushing them inside and using their bones to reinforce the strength of the metal.
Because of this, streaks of ink are always running down the seams where the armor opens, dripping endlessly in deep pools everywhere he goes.
LUKE
Before Luke descends as an angel, a soft smell of grassy sunlight fills the air, and you feel a gentle breeze pick up alongside you.
The sound of bells chimes softly as if rung by this breeze, though no bells can be seen.
Slowly, bursts of tiny stars shimmer into view as if creating a veil from which the angelic child steps forth.
Once he has appeared, the stars gather in small clusters, dancing around him as if engaged in a waltz.
Being a lower-ranking angel still, his form is generally humanoid and looks much like the Luke you know and love.
However, his shape looks more unstable at the edges, buzzing and shaking like a Chihuahua.
Though most of him is covered up by his Celestial garb, you notice eyes peeking out from between the folds, gazing up at you unblinkingly, staring right into your soul.
The eyes on his face, on the other hand, remain peacefully closed, as though you're looking upon a child asleep.
As he delivers his message, the scent of wheat and honey drifts from him, filling the air around you.
Although this form does no harm to you to look upon, you get the distinct feeling that you would fall into endless despair if you were to fail him.
Michael likes to send him to would-be runaways for this reason.
RAPHAEL
Though he may be the youngest of the seraphs, his form is no less grand and imposing.
You hear him before you see him -- the melody of a flute, a tintinnabulation, mixed with an enchanting voice singing words in a tongue you cannot comprehend.
Six large wings surround him, feathers light grey with the same iridescent sheen found on those of homing pigeons, spanning far and wide.
Where his face might be instead are twisting golden rings filled with eyes, swirling in a mesmerizing pattern that captivates you.
His arms, too, are made of a stack of metallic rings that mirrors armor, though no flesh resides within them, and interlock with the shapes of diamonds and spades.
Various chimes hang off like tassels at various points along those metallic arms, ringing endlessly.
In place of his torso is an opalescent crystal ribcage, though there are no organs for it to protect.
A number of spears, pointing downward and outward, fan around his bottom half, with needles circling golden thread around the spear "boning" -- making his bottom half resemble a cage hoop skirt.
Above the swirling rings of his face rests a halo, made up of floating spear tips, sharp and deadly.
And behind him, around him, are more rings that are linked in circles like an atom, so numerous that they are reminiscent of chainmail, all while swirling at dizzying speeds.
Surreal light emits from every element of his form -- every ring, every feather, every pointed end -- giving him an unsettling and ethereal glow.
Anger him in this form, and the mix of melodies becomes mind-numbingly discordant and cacophonous while numerous spears glisten with their sharp ends pointed towards you, ready to strike.
SIMEON
When Simeon was a seraph, his form shared a number of features with that of Raphael's: twisting golden rings for a face, an iridescent crystal ribcage, the stacks of rings for arms, and that surreal, unsettling light emitting from every element.
However, his form differed greatly as well -- his halo was actually an ouroboros, dotted with eyes peering into your very soul and lined with large, long spikes.
His six wings were not made of feathers but of fire, their flames a striking and dangerous blue -- four flanking his back, while the other two surrounded his head of twisting rings, protecting his face with their chaste embers.
His "legs" were composed of crystal shards, slowly twisting and catching the light to create a constant prismatic display.
Past the faint crackling of flames and metallic sonority, you could hear a soft and distant harp that lulled the senses.
His seraph form somehow evoked both a sense of serenity and a gnawing, unnerving sense of dread.
Since his demotion to archangel, however, his form is a bit different -- more telluric, more humanoid, with wings more traditionally white and feathery at his back.
The delicate music of the harp that used to accompany him is gone, now replaced by the brash announcement of trumpets.
His more exquisitely airy elements have become more earthen, those radiant crystal pieces composed now of jagged rock and gleaming metal instead.
So too do fragments of steel float around and over his right side, resting upon his shoulders like a cape flowing gracefully from shining pauldrons.
Drifting idly just past his fingertips, a sword rests across his form, long and thin, both a tool and yet inherently part of him, dancing easily at his command and always ready to strike.
Each metallic sliver is dotted with eyes, peering and watching over you, at once benevolent and yet you can feel them -- watching you, judging you, sharply observing every move you make.
Another eye watches as well, from above, gazing serenely from the center of a spinning seven-pointed star which serves as his head.
There are no other facial features to speak of, but the look in that single blue orb expresses all there is to understand.
Though his voice rings clear in your mind with any message he may have from above, you can see your fate clearly from the moment your eyes connect with his gaze.
THIRTEEN
As a reaper, there is no question of death's approach when Thirteen transforms into her true form.
You become aware of long, low bells in the distance -- for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
From the moment you hear that very first clang, you cannot move, an icy chill washing over you and leaving you frozen in place.
However, it is not fear that you feel, but instead an odd sense of peace that overtakes your mind and makes the world around seem distant and hazy.
All light fades from view except the eerie blue flame of the candle she carries in one hand, along with the vivid green fire that takes the place of one eye.
Through the flickering light, you can see where bones replace flesh -- a half jaw, a sharp cheekbone, a partially exposed ribcage.
Her other eye seems to become more reptilian in nature, scales surrounding her brow bone and the hollows of her cheeks, jagged and harsh.
Her teeth are sharp and large, the exposed jaw making it appear as if they are locked in a menacing grin.
Gauze wraps around her neck, dark ichor seeming to seep through it and drip onto her chest and into the hollow of her ribs.
She floats towards you, no legs to be seen as she rolls atop mist and fog that sprawls ever outward, reaching the edges of your vision.
Within that mist you catch a glimpse of fluttering iridescence -- butterflies, their wings part black and shining with opalescent darkness.
No longer does she wear the tattered black robes so often thought as the reaper's uniform -- instead, long pieces of black chiffon, tulle, and mesh twist around her form, giving the illusion of a cloak.
Long, sharp claws wrap around her scythe, its blade broad and keen -- but it shimmers in the light, its form malleable and able to transform into whatever the reaper so desires.
However she decides to capture your soul, the last thing reflected in your eyes will be the blue flame of the candle extinguished, its wax melted away with the end of your life.
SOLOMON
Hello, my adorable apprentice
What's wrong? Don't you recognize me?
It's me, Skeletiano Solomon
The true form of an immortal human sorcerer is...
Yeah this seems right
Right?
407 notes
·
View notes
Fluent Freshman - Part 12
PREVIOUS
If there was one thing no one would ever guess about FF it is that he unapologetically LOVES Black Friday.
You may be thinking. Ugh Black Friday. Everyone is so rude and tired. The deals aren’t even that good. It can turn into a blood sport at the drop of a hat over a toaster that is 15% off.
You are correct.
That is why FF loves it.
It is the one shopping day of the year where every single one of his instincts are correct, valid, and useful. He has pulled his gran out of the way of elbow drops, he has avoided the gaze of a woman in PINK sweat pants who was looking for someone to steal a blender from, and he knows without a doubt that the cashier hates him already so there’s no need to worry about whether or not they hate him.
It’s like a breath of fresh air!
Everyone is just as antagonistic and awful as he thinks they are!
Shopping is actually the blood sport he always feels like it is!
So there he is standing in a line at the nearest store (Target) waiting to be let in with the masses who all look ready to stab one another for better positioning for a TV. The jokes on them though because his only goal is the grocery section and he deals with the threat of repeated stabbings for BREAKFAST.
He spots an IHOP in the distance and hopes his gran doesn’t feel too lonely. They’ve gotten buttermilk stacks together at the IHOP by the mall for years after the two of them finished Christmas Shopping.
Someone elbows him in the side to get his spot in line but FF does not really care. Again, he doubts any of these people are going to be racing him to the all purpose flour.
It’s 4 AM and the barricades come down.
There’s a rush of people pushing and shoving but FF just steps to the side and watches as they all rush in. He’d mostly stayed in the line because the throng of people made it easier to stay warm. He had left his jacket back at the house because the five hour energy might be making his skin feel super sensitive but he is pretty sure that if he wore his nylon jacket he would die.
The five hour energy also may be upping his anxiety just a little bit.
He walks into the store at a leisurely pace and while the crowd fights over the carts he grabs one of the baskets. He can feel the eyes of other shoppers all wondering if he has some insider knowledge on a good deal that would only require the basket or if it’s a matter of who gets to the back to receive the ‘redeem’ coupon.
He sees a few shoppers get lured in by his siren call and much like a siren following anything that FF is about to do will undoubtedly lead to their downfall.
But FF doesn’t care about that.
He cares about HIS downfall.
So he makes his way to the grocery section and ignores the six different shopping assistants who try and guide him to where he ‘should’ be shopping and each of them only give him increasingly confused looks when he states his intention to go to the grocery section every single time.
Is it easier to ignore their stares when the five hour energy have set his baseline heart rate to something that might be too fast to register as a heartbeat? Maybe.
It is easier to ignore the confusion on their faces when he can see both the past (he asked for TWO favors from Andrew in one day how is he still alive???) and the future (still malleable at the moment apparently. There’s even a future where Andrew actually just is trying to make overtures of friendship but he dismisses that one as INCREDIBLY unlikely and looks at the far more viable one where Andrew at least makes his death quick while he enjoys his great gran’s brownies.)
It’s good to set reasonable goals for yourself.
So he arrives at the grocery section which is deserted aside from one employee who may or may not be asleep against a shelf. FF looks and….not a shelf he needs so he is not about to wake that poor man up.
So he gets everything he needs for his great gran’s brownies (he’s trying to buy his life here so he is not about to assume he can use ANYTHING in the house), the ingredients for a good breakfast (because he really needs to eat something that is not a five hour energy or sugar for the sake of his poor stomach and he may as well get enough for everyone), and (since Captain Neil mentioned it & he is trying to buy his life here) the ingredients to bake another pie.
While he grabs cinnamon he checks to see if they have grandma’s love in stock but, alas, it continues to be unavailable commercially.
He stares at the whipped cream for so long that the employee asleep in the other aisle woke up and asked if he needed help and, startled, he dropped it in his basket. “No I’m good.” He says before power walking out of the grocery department and deciding to brave the Home Goods section to buy some incense so that he can hopefully channel the spirit of his great gran to assist him in this, the darkest of his baking hours.
He arrives at the check out stations and finds the shortest line .
He can feel eyes on him, inspecting his purchases, judging them, judging him, who the fuck goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush?
FF.
FF goes grocery shopping during the Black Friday rush.
The cashier looks for hidden cameras but FF has no such thing accompanying him today or ever (as far as he knows.)
After a moment the cashier must look at the ever growing line and decide that whatever scheme they think FF is up to isn’t worth trying to figure out. They offer a membership card, FF valiantly declines to get one despite the two attempts.
He is out the door with four bags of groceries that all have a target on them that feels a little too correct. It’s 6 AM now (he really did lose a lot of time at the whipped cream section) and he’s walking back to the house in Columbia.
He actually feels a little bit better since he at least got to experience his actual favorite blood sport (sorry Exy) and he even got another 2 five hour energies while he was in the check out line so he could replace some of the ones that he had gone through.
“Smith?”
He would like to thank the combined weight of the groceries for keeping his feet on the ground when he heard Captain Neil’s voice.
He turns and Captain Neil is looking at him wide-eyed in his running gear that Smith has seen him in. “You were shopping??” He asks.
FF nods and lifts up the four bags as evidence. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” He asks.
FF almost scoffs but he doesn’t, “You can’t be distracted when you’re in a Target on Black Friday. That’s how you take an elbow to the eye.” He responds because it’s like Captain Neil has never experienced the WWE-like environment of Black Friday shopping.
Captain Neil blinks at him.
“Text Andrew or me next time you’re going to go off into the night or just let us know beforehand. Andrew would have driven you.” Captain Neil says and grabs two of the bags out of FF’s hand. “C’mon let’s get back and maybe you can get some sleep.” Captain Neil sighs.
“I’m fine.” FF adjusts the bags so he has one in each hand.
Captain Neil does not say anything so FF assumes that he has accepted that.
***
FF had not been asleep on the couch when Neil had walked through the living room. Neil, in a move that had Andrew fully waking up, went back to the room to check his phone to see if FF had texted him an update on going out. All that greets Neil is the impersonal series of texts that mostly confirmed when practice times had been changed, when the bus was leaving, and spelling on various Spanish words.
FF isn’t a big text person.
He’s more of an in-person kind of friend.
Neil likes that about him most of the time.
“What.” Andrew asks face still half buried in Neil’s pillow.
“Smith isn’t on the couch.”
That has Andrew getting up despite the early hour and their activities the night before. Neil watches as Andrew grabs his own phone to scroll through but seems to come up with the same lack of communication that Neil does.
Andrew does do the extra step and hit the call button.
But all he gets is the confirmation that the VM has not been configured that has greeted them every time FF misses their calls. (Voicemails make FF anxious so when he got his new phone he just…never configured it.)
Neil knew that FF was not pleased with them and somehow the calm request to either stop fooling around or let him out had hit him and Andrew harder than any of the screaming demands that the two of them were usually met with from Nicky, Kevin, Aaron, or any of the other Foxes.
“You said he wasn’t mad.” Neil says.
“He nodded.” Andrew confirms.
“Maybe he went on a walk?” Neil tries as they come out to the living room. They look at the front door and find that it’s locked but it looks like Aaron’s keys are gone. “He probably is going to come back if he took Aaron’s keys since Aaron wouldn’t be the one he’d be irritated with.” Neil rationalizes.
“He didn’t bring his jacket.” Andrew says looking at the black jacket still on the hook by the door.
“We can go and see if we spot him.” Neil offers.
Andrew nods and Neil heads out first since Andrew is still in his sleeping clothes and will need some time.
Neil had not expected to find FF walking back to the house with groceries for breakfast and the pie that Neil had mentioned hoping they could bake at the house.
“Is this for the pie?” He asks looking down at what was in the bags he was carrying as the walked back to the house. Neil managed to shoot off a quick text letting Andrew know that it was fine, FF just went grocery shopping.
FF just nods, “Got everything but Grandma’s love.” He says.
FF is a nice guy to brave the stores on a morning like this but FF also looks like he hasn’t slept a wink.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Neil asks.
“I’m fine.” FF repeats.
Neil really is starting to understand his friends’ hatred for the phrase.
They get back to the house and Andrew is sat out in the living room. FF stops and blinks at the sight of him sitting there.
It is a well-known fact that Andrew does not willingly wake up early most days unless he has to. Neil is glad that Andrew has a friend that he’s coming to care about the way Andrew cares about FF.
Andrew gets up and yanks the bags out of FF’s hands. “Go to sleep. Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.” He says with a scowl and walks to the kitchen to put away the groceries FF had bought.
FF just looks at where Andrew had gone uncomprehendingly for a few moments and Neil figures he’s just tired. Neil feels guilty that him and Andrew messing around in the car like that had rendered FF unable to sleep and the two of them had agreed last night that from now on when FF is in the car they can talk all they want but hands stay on the wheel and eyes stay on the road.
FF is plopped down on the couch when Andrew and Neil come out of the kitchen after putting away the groceries (“These are the ingredients for brownies.” Andrew had noted as he put away melting chocolate.) and he’s looking through his flashcards again and not sleeping. He hears Andrew make a disgusted noise next to him and the next thing he knows Andrew is smacking the cards out of FF’s hands.
“Go. To. Sleep.” Andrew enunciates.
FF stares at him, then down at the flashcards. “I don’t think I can.” He says which is better than him lying and saying he wasn’t tired even if the truth had Andrew’s mouth stretch into a thin line that meant he was beating himself up for something.
“Try.” Andrew orders. “Just lay down and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” He says.
FF blinks but nods turning on the couch and laying down. The blanket is still over on the lazy boy that Neil had set it on the night before and Andrew rolls his eyes before grabbing it and tossing it over FF.
“Thanks.” FF says before closing his eyes.
Neil looks to Andrew who nods and Neil accepts that there’s nothing else to be done for now and heads out on his run.
***
FF can admit that he’s a bit adrift in what Andrew and Captain Neil are doing right now.
He really should go grab another five hour energy because falling asleep IN FRONT of an irritated Andrew Minyard feels like a death sentence but “Nothing will happen to you while you’re sleeping.” And having a blanket thrown over him did not feel like a threat even if he can feel Andrew’s eyes watching him.
FF is tired and when he’s tired he tends to make stupid decisions. So FF lets himself drift off to sleep while the man who was likely going to move him to a secondary location sat and watched.
His dreams are not peaceful.
He’s running, can’t escape, an echo of words he should have considered before letting himself drift off and he knows he’s going to DIE.
He wakes up with a start to the smell of bacon, eggs, and hashed browns with Nicky standing over him. “Hey there sleeping beauty! I made you a plate!” He says and hands FF a plate of breakfast that smiles up at him with a bacon mouth, egg eyes, and hashed brown hair.
FF takes the plate and digs in immediately. He needs his strength.
“Today will be irritating if you’re half-asleep.”
Andrew Minyard was going to hunt him for SPORT.
NEXT
Do your civic duty and: CAST YOUR VOTE TODAY ABOUT MEMES (closed)
Per Your Requests:
@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie
@theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly? (Cheesecookie whatever you did let me actually select you this time)
513 notes
·
View notes
Spoiling You With All My Might -- Comte Collection Story Translation
I've been meaning to post this one for a while, as it's honestly in my top ten Comte events of all time. For this Collection story event, it was basically all the suitors comforting MC when she's stressed/tired/overworked. And lbr, who doesn't need that in their life?
Enjoy everyone, and just a reminder that I'm no professional--I just translate these for my own enjoyment. Without further ado:
In the early afternoon, when the hands on the clock are pointing to 3pm--
I was alone drinking tea in a quiet kitchen.
(I’ve been busy lately…I think I’m a little burnt out.)
My cup of tea was already empty, but somehow I didn’t have the energy to stand up--
Comte: MC, are you taking a break?
Turning around revealed Comte standing in the middle of the doorway.
Okay but like. I gotta say just the thought of him peeking around the corner is killing me, he's the cutest man alive I swear
But also. Now I'm wondering if he's lowkey like IS IT MEOW MEOW TIME? MEOW MEOW T I M E!!!!!! pounces on the opportunity for quality time. Somehow that's even more adorable I'm going to explode from uwus
MC: Indeed I am. Would you like to have some tea, too?
Comte: That’s an attractive invitation, but if you don’t mind, would you spend some time with me for a little while after this?
MC: Go out with you…?
Comte: I’m thinking of going for a walk. Would you like to join me?
His hand was outstretched in a gentlemanly gesture that touched/eased my heart.
MC: Haha, I’d love to.
I laughed a little at this because I'm definitely the kind of person that's like "omg pls, you are not beating the silly goose allegations!!!" over him being all suave over a walk together but. At the same time. HEART EYES M-- King of romantics everywhere. Gentleman of my heart. Mellifluous seducer have MERCY
More under the cut!
Comte’s escort led me to a forest a short walking distance from the mansion.
As I walk alongside him, the sunbeams penetrate through the trees as they sway with the breeze.
Comte: The weather is lovely today, making it a perfect occasion for a walk.
MC: You’re right…the wind feels nice, too.
As I walked slowly listening to the rustling trees, I could feel the fatigue/tension draining out of me little by little.
(It feels like my heart is being cleansed. It’s so soothing…)
Comte: …
It was then that I noticed Comte gazing at me calmly.
As somebody who used to be plus ultra literally every minute of my life, this made me so softe inside. The way he cares so much about her ;-; he really said "I will die before I disrespect a girlboss, but also. I am here. For to help PLS. Also a crumb of attention...p l swleseskje...."
(Ah…by any chance)
MC: Comte
Comte: Yes?
MC: …You invited me out for a change of pace, didn’t you?
Comte smiled softly at my words.
Comte: I just wanted to take a walk with you like this.
I do love how, especially in recent events, MC notices his gestures more and more 🥺💛💛💛💛💛💛 I think it's really cute that he wants to be sneaky sweet and supportive, and whenever she realizes it he's like. C'est moi? You're not fooling anyone pretty boy!!! I know you have brain cells up there!!! But also the sincerity in that last line, of how he really does also just want to spend some time with her. How he's always saying the most wonderful thing she can give him is her time.
Just put my body out to sea I can't do this anymore--
I was enveloped in the sound of his voice, warming my heart, and my feet stopped involuntarily.
Comte: MC?
MC: Every time you treat me so kindly like this…I’m so happy I could cry
Jokingly, Comte turned around and spread his coat.
Comte: If you want to do so, that’s okay too
MC: Huh…
Comte: After all, there is no one here but us. If you want to cry, you can cry.
Comte wrapped me gently in his open coat and murmured in my ear.
Comte: Like this, there will be no trace of tears left behind.
MC: Oh…
(It’s okay to cry…that’s not something you hear very often when you’re fully grown.)
(Just hearing him say that in such a sweet voice makes my heart feel lighter…)
(Comte really is amazing)
Honestly this part just made me melt, I have no words--I'm down bad fellas. We love a man who encourages his partner that its safe to be vulnerable 😭🙏🏼
But also I feel the need to say. Comte don't offer this to me because from that point on I will live in your coat. It will no longer be 'Comte's nice coat,' but rather:
MC: Thank you. But…Aren’t you spoiling me too much?
When I looked up and asked him, he leaned over to drop a kiss to my forehead…
MC: Oh…
Comte: I see. I think I don’t spoil you enough.
Comte’s long fingers reached out to wipe my eyes gently.
Comte: MC, I love everything about you.
Comte: Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands.
He gazes deeply into my eyes, and I can’t help how my heart races in response.
So like. Do you ever just cry and die. Because.
I'm like somewhere between "WE GOT A 2319!!!!!!!!!" and inches from professing my eternal love and loyalty like some kind of lovelorn knight too afraid to even touch the radiance of their beloved. Comte how on earth am I supposed to look at you without being blinded. Sun that's too bright!!!!! That's too b r i g h t!
I just. "Your fatigue and your tears, don’t forget that it’s my privilege to soothe them with these hands." [muffled wailing noises] Did I ASK--
Mfer out here like 'oh the terrible fate of being tied to me for eternity' meanwhile every second of being with him is either dizzyingly passionate or like being wrapped up in the warmest, fluffiest blankie imaginable. I HAVE TO S T A N SIR--
MC: Ah, if you spoil me so much, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything on my own anymore.
Comte smiled a little as I laughed deceptively in the hopes of hiding how delighted I was.
Comte: That’s great. I’d love to see that, myself.
The fingers that had been stroking my eyes slipped down my cheek to touch my lips.
Comte: If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you.
His sweet whisper ends when his lips gently cover mine.
MC: Mn…
In the midst of his enveloping kiss, I gently entrusted my body to the person dearest to me--
Can I just ?????? Say????? How much I love MC being teasing/catty with him as the events go on. I LOVE it here. I think I really like how she grows into her own strength, and how she feels comfortable expressing her shyness without ceding that integrity. One thing I've noticed that I love in relationships is this ability to air grievances in a playful way, where the stakes are low--but the person can still express their feelings and be comforted. I think I like how it's not about putting pressure on the person, but getting it out in the open and resolved all the same. It just fills me with warm fuzzies c:
Also. "If you can’t manage to walk alone--I’ll be there to hold you up, and walk alongside you." Like not to beat a dead horse, but wow. Pretty sure this metaphysically changed me as a person. Thanks, I will never be the same. True love exists, [unhinged barking noises], etc etc
65 notes
·
View notes