she writes

and reblog stuffs, mostly. - w/n: illia.

[doktoruber-archive]

hii, i was wonderin if i ccan get a gaz & price from cod matchin tumblr layout?? thank u in advance!! (ps, i love ur layout SO much its so pleasing)

❝﹕➤ 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒﹒ 🦇 price and gaz matching tumblr layouts , dividers and pfps . reblog or @ me when in use . — requested by : anon . psds : this post and this post .

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 23

prompt: #23 "No, you won’t understand. Ever." original fiction: the andersons - dante rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

The black umbrella shields him from the heavy droplets of rain. Him and his mother, standing rigidly at the front of the small crowd. This was the hardest part of all; not the sympathies, not the eulogies, but this. Dante Anderson is not used to being expressive.

No, you won’t understand.

He gets that from everyone way too many times to count.

Ever.

He hides his emotions most of the time—working hazard and all—and in situations where people are showing their true expressions, he can’t. It’s as if his brain is already programmed to shut them down when he needs them the most.

Glancing to his right, Dante finds his siblings under one umbrella. Enrico assumes the umbrella holder for both himself and his sister; his red rimmed eyes and slightly shaking hands can’t lie. Even though he thinks that getting along with his sister is difficult, seeing her in that state hurts him. Their mother, in a short moment of calmness, explained to him about what had happened that night. Somehow, Dante knows Charlie is taking the heaviest toll. She doesn’t look like herself at all.

When the coffin is finally lowered to the ground, people start to leave one by one after offering their sympathies. At the end, only the four of them remain by his grave. The view is too painful to bear. He can’t linger here any longer. However, the moment Mama Anderson kneels by the tombstone and cries, the dam breaks.

Dante lets go of the umbrella and goes to embrace their mother, feeling her shaking shoulders and shivering body. The rain may wash away the tears on her face, but it doesn’t erase her pain. He can also hear his siblings mourning in their own way, and he can’t bear having to see them break down as well. Not that he has no remorse, he just can’t. He simply wishes that the cracks forming between them will not grow larger.

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 22

prompt: #22 "Who takes care of you?" original fiction: undead disaster - zombie apocalypse!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

Ethan had lost count on how many nights he had forced his eyes open. This wretched event has left tiny scars of nightmare and uneasiness that keeps him awake every night. Being one of the students in a faculty famous for its habit of giving students dark circles under their eyes, Ethan had become accustomed to keeping his energy preserved for sleepless nights. Vaguely, he still remembered every cup of coffee he drank, the papers full of scribbling and notes piling up on the side of his laptop, and the books on the other side lay forlornly, also full of his handwriting here and there.

Now? He only heard high-pitched screams, frantic footsteps running to escape death, flesh being ripped off the bones, and occasional gunshots. The young male wondered if one day, a police officer would show up and catch him for using guns illegally. All he could ever make out with his sights are the deserted, messy environment. Trash littered everywhere, a bone or two got stuck in the soil, dried leaves scattered along the road, along with dried blood, even on walls.

The smell of death lingered everywhere, and Ethan would’ve given his all to go back to the past.

Nobody noticed, thankfully. Nobody noticed the circles under his eyes that got darker and darker. Nobody noticed the tiredness he hides away behind his stern eyes and firm posture. He didn’t want to hear the typical “Are you okay?” or “What’s wrong?” coming from the mouths of other five people he had ended up with. Ethan knew his limit, and despite all the exhaustion he began to feel because of this whole sleep ordeal, he knew he could still go on a few nights more.

Despite that, he could still remember Helena asking him out of anger, and he couldn’t give her an answer.

“You’re taking care of us, but who’s taking care of you?!”

Ethan scoffed lightly. He still couldn’t give her an answer.

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 21

prompt: #21 "Just in case this doesn’t work." original fiction: arrion universe - dystopian future!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

The armory was reserved for the men who were deployed for special missions. Not a lot of people know that the room existed at all; even if they did, they’d be sworn to secrecy most of the time. It was a room that Alfons frequented many times, being the former general of the special forces of Arrion. Stepping foot inside this room after so long made him feel nostalgic, and his brain could still picture the map of the room easily. He stopped by the door, looking up to the shelves stocked with weapons and other equipment. This place was the last one they restored after the coup; reasonable, the threat was gone for a while.

Alfons went to a few shelves and took only the things he might need. Then, he walked over to a table and laid everything down. Just as he was about to pack them up into a duffle bag, he heard the door slid open once more. Turning to the side, he found the young King approaching him—hands in his pockets, looking unsure, it was easy to tell.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” He asked, eyes drifting to the stuff on the table.

The older one nodded. “It had to be done.” He said. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”

Dylan shook his head and settled on the spot across from him. “That’s not what I mean. You could die out there.”

He knew Dylan would say that. Alfons sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small device—a pager, of some sorts.

“Just in case this doesn’t work,” he handed the item to Dylan, “send a message from this pager. The other side will know.”

Hesitantly, Dylan took it and slipped it into his own pocket. “I don’t want you to go.”

Alfons smiled. “I know.” He replied. “But I am a soldier, I have to, you know that better than anyone.”

This time, Dylan walked closer to stand in front of him, reaching for his hand with his own. “Just come back safely. That’s an order.”

The older one scoffed, the smile didn’t leave his lips as he reached up to ruffle his hair.

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 20

prompt: #20 "This better be good." original fiction: the spade - vigilante!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: a lil swearing?

---

“This better be good.”

Theo walked into the hideout while taking off his helmet exasperatedly, staring at Gray who strode ahead of him with his tablet in hand. The night had been going rather downhill and with the ambush, he was not having a nice day. The syndicate’s activity had been increasing and becoming more apparent. This time, the man in the black mask and suit came back not without a scratch. He was about to beat the shit out of those folks until Gray ‘pulled’ him away forcibly.

“Oh, it’s legit.” He replied. “And you’ll definitely want to be here when I’m opening it.”

He sat in front of the computer display and clicked on the tablet a few times, putting it down before typing something on the keyboard. It seemed that it would take him a while to do so. Theo decided to walk over to the other side of the room to put his mask down, groaning lightly as he tried to rotate his shoulders lightly—there might be a bruise on his back that’s hurting like hell.

“Hey, get back here!”

Theo approached Gray and stood behind him, looking at the screen that showed what seemed to be a…compilation of files?

“What’s that?” Theo asked with an eyebrow raised.

Gray grinned proudly. “That’s our guy, the leader of the syndicate.”

He snorted amusedly, punching Gray on the forearm lightly. Theo could definitely notice the smug look on his face. “Nice.”

“Not only that,” he shifted his attention to the other screen showing an audio file, “but I also managed to snatch this recording of a meeting with him and his…patron?”

“Patron, huh?” Theo sighed. “Things are getting even more complicated.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 19

prompt: #19 "What if we're wrong?" original fiction: tales of the realm - medieval fantasy!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

The highest tower standing on top of Cithrel Castle was occupied by a single person. Scattered around its floors were books and parchments—in the middle of the mess, a singular map of the continent was being spread out flatly. She had marked some parts of the map; allies to the crown, threats to the realm, possible in-betweens. Her hair put up in a messy bun, Ava had forgotten how long she had been here. After the last meeting, the current threat looming above her head was getting even more dire; ‘I had to do something. I can’t let it happen, not again—’

In the middle of her own crowding thoughts, she didn’t notice the door creaking open slowly as if not to disturb the occupant. He invited himself in with a quiet sigh, approaching the lady. The rolled blanket made out of fur he had been carrying with him was draped over her shoulders once he got close, gaining her attention in the process.

“You should get some sleep.” Raegys told her with concern latched to his voice, glancing at the untouched dinner on a table nearby. “Didn’t even eat your food.”

It was her turn to let out a sigh, shaking her head and turning her attention back to the map. “I can’t sleep. Not right now.”

She got up and walked away from him, approaching a shelf where some parchments were stacked.

“Ava.” He tried to speak to her again; seriously this time. “You’re the Queen now, and there are people behind your back who are going to support you. You don’t have to do this alone—”

“What if you’re wrong?” The sudden sharpness in her tone took Raegys by surprise. “What if we’re wrong? What if there are backstabbers among those who I’m supposed to trust?”

Once again, Raegys approached the shorter one and grabbed her by the arms gently. He gave them a light, reassuring squeeze.

“I’m here.” He spoke firmly. “I will never betray you, you know that.”

He glanced at the parchments and the map, then back to her.

“Let’s figure this out together, yeah?”

Ava bit on her lower lip and looked down on her feet, hands clenched into tight fists. ‘Raegys is here. He won’t let it happen again.’

She looked up to him and offered him a smile; the first one she ever showed to anyone today. “Thank you.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 18

prompt: #18 "We can’t do this on our own." original fiction: they know her name - mafia!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: mentions of guns and violence.

---

Aveline drops herself onto the chair exasperatedly, not even bothered to hang her coat and just throws it somewhere randomly. It was supposed to be a normal meeting dinner with a possible ally—a businessman, a party interested in investing their resources into her efforts. They were having a pleasant talk about businesses over small-portion dishes and expensive wine…until one of her men decided to take out his gun at the businessman. If it weren’t for Andreas, his experience and quick reflexes, Aveline would’ve had to deal with the chaos and a dead oil magnate on her table.

We can’t do this on our own, they all agreed; the ugly affair would ruin them if they dare try to go head on by themselves, we need allies.

She took off her heels under the large oak desk, leaning back with a tired sigh. Soon after, a familiar face walked into her office, followed by an elderly woman carrying a tray of tea. The newest head of the Testa Famiglia was in disbelief; pissed at the audacity of someone like that ruining her image. The young lady thanked the nonna for the tea, and after she left the room, all traces of the smile Aveline had earlier was gone.

“Did you manage to keep the man secured?” She asked the older man that had been standing by the door.

“Ja.” He simply answered. “He’s locked up in the basement.”

“All by himself?”

Another nod.

“Good.” Aveline opened a drawer and took out her father’s gun; the special one used only on special occasions. “Can’t risk another one betraying us.”

As she was about to leave, Andreas grabbed her by the wrist gently and stopped her on her tracks. Aveline turned to look at the man who had been part of the family not long after her father took the mantle; one of the most loyal ones, he would say. The concern on his face was something Ave’s pretty used to by now.

“I can do it for you.” He told her. “You do not need to get your hands dirty—” She shook her head. “I need to do it myself.” She replied. “They need to see the consequences of betraying me.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 17

prompt: #17 "I never said it would be easy." original fiction: mr. and mrs. rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

Grace Rowland didn’t recognize her reflection on the mirror. The updo and the makeup looked foreign and unusual; she liked to keep things simple with those in her daily life. Her eyes darted to the blonde figure behind her, still trying to get her hair neat enough to put the white veil over her head. The smile on her face was full of excitement, it made her feel warm inside. Grace couldn’t hold her gaze longer because of her biggest distraction; the white dress hugging her form perfectly. She let her palm run through the fabric on her waist a little, thinking that she actually didn’t like white all that much.

“Is something wrong with the dress, darling?”

The young lady looked to the older one behind her through the mirror, smiling lightly.

“No, no.” She answered. “It’s just that…I’m nervous, Mama. I don’t know if I can do it—”

Mrs. Rowland gripped her daughter’s upper arms gently and turned her around to face her. She looked at the young woman before her with a reassuring smile.

“No one really came prepared for a new life like this, sweetheart.” She told Grace, patting her arms in an attempt to comfort her nerves. “But when it happens, when it comes to you, you try to adjust and compromise to live it with your new partner. Make it work for both of you.”

Grace chuckled. “You made it sound so easy—”

This time, Mrs. Rowland shook her head. “I never said it would be easy, but with the right person, it’s worth it.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Grace could notice the determined look on her mother’s eyes.

“Do you think he’s the right person?”

She smiled. Now that’s an easy question to answer.

“Yes.”

“Well, good!” Mrs. Rowland nodded enthusiastically, finally putting on the transparent veil that covers her head and face. “Now go, Daniel is waiting for you just outside the door to walk you down the aisle.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 16

prompt: #16 "Do you know a way out of here?" original fiction: dungeons & dragons: character tales rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: lil swearing.

---

Staring at the jail floor that smelled like piss didn’t faze him any longer. His head leaning back against the wall, he couldn’t get his mind off the night everything was ruined. Flames going up in the dark of night—in the seas, his proud playground, stuck in a doomed predicament. He had always been careful; so meticulous and calculated in everything he did. He was feared not because of the reputation he had built for himself and his crew, but because those who were hunting him knew that he could bring chaos everywhere with his plans. He was feared because he was way smarter than expected of his kind.

“Do you know a way out of here?”

The question had been asked for the third time today by…temporary visitors who stayed not even an hour or so. Kairon sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring at the leaky ceiling above. Although faintly, he could hear the man’s cause of being jailed earlier—hitting a nobleman’s carriage with his horse, what a stupid way to get jailed for.

“No.” He answered briefly. “If I do, I would’ve been out of this shithole years ago.”

The new person crawled and settled in front of him, the shock in his face was very much visible.

“How long have you been here?” The man asked—shrieked, almost—seemingly going into panic. “Oh gods, am I gonna be locked in here forever?!”

Kairon rolled his eyes.

“Stop being a crybaby, you’ll be out in an hour or so.” He replied flatly. “A day at the latest.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 15

prompt: #15 "Fine, explain it to me." original fiction: land of the gods - time travel!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

Nefertia walks along the beach barefooted, a thick fur hugging her form. She has since lost count on how long she had spent on the era that isn’t her own. Still, everything feels strangely familiar—the smell of the air, the gentle wind, how the full moon looks hanging there in the night sky. As she stops to sit on the white sands and marvels at the view, Nefertia thinks even the stars look the same. Although her eyesight isn’t good enough in the dark, the moonlight helps her to see how calm the waves are. She hugs her knees close to her chest, closing her eyes to imagine the faraway home she wants to go back to.

“Running away to avoid confrontation is never the answer, Nefertia.”

The voice behind her startles her. Looking back, Nefertia notices Heron walking over to her. Her eyes never leave him until he takes a seat next to her, keeping a good distance between the two of them. She looks down on her feet, half buried under the sands, unable to look at him after saying the things she said.

What is she supposed to say? I’m sorry, I don’t mean it? I’m sorry I lied?

She might not mean it, but she wasn’t lying.

“I need to know the truth, at least.” He continues, his voice lowered unlike the tone he had when he told her off. “Tell me honestly.”

“It’s…” Nefertia trails off, lifting her gaze towards the calm seas before them. “It’s complicated, Heron, I can’t—”

“Fine. I understand that it’s complicated,” the exasperation in his voice is almost too evident to ignore, “but explain it to me anyway.”

She finally turns to look at him; to see those dark brown eyes illuminated by the moonlight ever so softly.

Then, she nods. “I will trust you, but it might take some time to explain.”

It’s the first time she sees him smile today.

“Well, try me.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 14

prompt: #14 "If you don’t stop now—" original fiction: they know her name - mafia!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: a lil swearing.

---

People said a lady shouldn’t rule.

The words were fed into her ears for a long time. Women bring chaos to order. Women are too emotional to be rational. Women can’t handle the men's world. The judgment and doubts were expected, but some twist of fate changed everything. It changed the tradition, and she was in the center of it. Her brother’s assassination meant that she had to take up the mantle eventually. Of course, protests were inevitable. It was all left to her: Aveline, the young daughter of Johannes Testa, the former leader of the infamous Testa Famiglia. All that the family have achieved, their fame and riches—their legacy—was up for Aveline to preserve.

Or, perhaps, enrich.

So, when her father’s retirement from the crime world was announced, Aveline—Ave, the childhood name she picked for herself—was ready. Somewhat, she felt that she was ready. Aveline had learned as much as she could within the time given to her. A short one, she must admit, but it was enough for a start. There was once when the thought didn’t even occur to her at all. But at the end of the day, the responsibility fell to her shoulders.

People said a lady shouldn’t rule. Well, fuck the people.

“If you don’t stop now—”

“What?” Ave looked up from her seat at the end of the table, surrounded by her four henchmen of the highest rank. “What’s going to happen if I don’t stop, hm?”

She got up and slowly walked towards the man, ignoring the look Andreas was giving her from his spot behind her chair. Stopping behind the man who had been running his mouth for the last ten minutes, Aveline grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back to look her in the eyes. Then, she whispered in his ear. “Whether you like it or not,” she said, “I am the boss now. You listen to me, do my bidding, and keep yourself safe from a bullet in your head.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 13

prompt: #13 "Come with us (me), hurry." original fiction: tales of the realm - medieval fantasy!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

The taps and whispers on her ear stirred her awake. Ava’s eyes opened slowly, finding one of her court ladies hovering over her face with that unsettling expression. She did not have time to process everything—not even to completely get rid of the sleepiness—when she was ushered off the bed. Before she knew it, her coat was already covering her nightgown. The princess felt a little dizzy; her brain was still somewhere between the realm of dreams and her consciousness. It was only the muffled noises of screams and swords clashing that finally snapped her into reality. Her heart was beating slightly faster now that she noticed something was wrong.

“What is happening?” The crown princess asked the court lady who was peeking her head out the door as if checking on the situation outside.

Her quickened breaths slowly died down. She turned to face her then reached out to grasp both of her arms gently. “You need to escape, Princess.” She answered in a tone that brooked no argument. “The castle is being attacked by—”

She let her go when she heard the knock on the door three times. Ava took some steps back when the other lady put a finger to her lips, signaling her to be quiet. The door was opened very slightly, barely a crack that it was impossible for her to see who was outside. However, the one at the door sighed in relief and opened the door a bit wider just enough to let the familiar figures in white cloak enter. Two knights in their rather disheveled form entered in a hurry, their hands were locked around the hilt of their swords. From her distance, Ava could see the bloodstains on white and tiny splatters of red and dirt on their faces.

“The castle is under attack, Your Grace.” One of them said amidst his heaving breaths. “You need to come with us.”

The young lady shook her head in disbelief. This can’t be happening.

“Hurry, we will escort you to safety.”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 12

prompt: #12 "I’m not saying I don’t (didn’t) like it." original fiction: in another life - modern setting rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

Han Soomin hasn’t gone back to her apartment in three days straight. She sat there in front of her computer, typing away with those dark bags under her eyes—she tried to hide them with makeup to no avail. The bad habit of pushing her assignments to the last minute possible was catching up on her and her sanity, now that her career was taking up almost all aspects of her life. Regardless, Soomin has had her eyes on the monitor while her fingers quickly typed to make sure she got this report done today.

Fortunately for her, the report was concluded and submitted just ten minutes before she clocked out. With a relieved sigh, the young woman could finally loosen her shoulders and leaned back against her chair, stretching her arms upwards. She turned the seat to look at the window displaying the city of Seoul basked in golden light as the sun started to set. It took her sometime before she tidied up her desk and left the office building.

The moment she got off the elevator, Soomin could instantly recognize a familiar face among the small crowds around the lobby. Kang Sangwoo was waiting for her with a small bucket of flowers and a gift bag in hand, eyes darting around not caring that some people were curiously staring at him. His face lit up the moment their gazes met; Soomin’s heart felt warm for a minute there. As she walked over to him, an image flashed before her eyes—of a man who was once the world for her, the one who had given her so much love. Her mind played tricks on her, returning those memories back for her to reminisce.

That time was long gone, replaced by the current present. Soomin blinked a few times upon realizing that Sangwoo had been talking to her.

“Oh wow, this is new.” Soomin finally spoke up, receiving the flowers and gift bag from Sangwoo. “I thought you said you’re not a romantic?”

“You don’t like it?” Sangwoo asked back at her, the slight change in his voice barely recognizable.

She shook her head quickly, smiling at the taller man. “No, no, I’m not saying that I don’t like it. I’m just…surprised, that’s all.”

He shrugged, placing an arm around her shoulders as he led her outside. “Well, isn’t that the point of a surprise?”

Soomin laughed, planting a kiss on his cheek. When was the last time she felt relaxed like this?

“And here I thought I’m the cutest between us!”

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 11

prompt: #11 "You lost it. Well, we lost it." original fiction: tales of the realm - medieval fantasy!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none.

---

They made it to the woods not without cuts and scratches. The darkness obscured most of the eyes of those currently searching for them—it was widely known that navigating this thick jungle area was harder than surviving the mountains, especially with the various enchantments placed all over. Syllavana panted heavily while crouching under a thick bush, her eyes scanning the path in front of her to make sure they were no longer being followed. The tiefling chieftain next to her, crouching with the same position, has his hand on the warhammer on his back, alert and ready to strike.

For a moment, muffled chatters were heard some distance away. The two of them became wary as the chatters were getting clearer little by little, but at the end, they got further away then disappeared. Ava could finally breathe a sigh of relief, getting up from her position and leaned against one of the tree trunks. Looking up to the chieftain, she could see the fire burning in his blue eyes; he was angry, all right.

“You lost it.” Chieftain Devon spoke matter-of-factly. “You lost control of your powers and—”

“Well, we lost it.” Ava tried to argue, rolling her eyes. “You burned those people with your fire.”

He walked closer to her, pointing a finger close to her face. From this distance, Ava knew for sure the next training was going to be hell.

“To contain your power so it won’t disintegrate them into ashes.” He spoke up with an anger he could barely contain. “You are still a child at this, so follow my orders or the next time this happens, I will burn you with my fire.”

The younger woman kept some distance with the chieftain as they made their way back to camp, feeling angry and guilty at the same time; to whom, she didn’t know for sure.

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 10

prompt: #10 "It’s alright, I’m here now." original fiction: the andersons - dante rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: mentions/description of death.

---

The next day, Dante is once again in his uniform. Not the one that makes him blend into the trees and the desert, but the crisp one only worn on special occasions. Occasions aren’t always positive, so that set of clothes doesn’t always mean a celebration. Maybe it is, if they count a celebration of life.

Speeches, eulogies, gunshots. Dante stands rigidly through all of them, only blinking his eyes when necessary, keeping his focus on the sleek black coffin at the center of the attention. The funeral happened so quickly, but the impact will last longer; it is, after all, a sign of acceptance. It’s accepting that a person is gone from this world—a friend, a family, a companion, a lover—and their memories are all that remain. Then, the service ends, and they take turns in giving their last respect to the man who was their leader, their brother, their father figure.

It’s alright, I’m here now. His favorite line. Like someone with a savior complex. He would say it with an ounce of affection no one thought he had.

Dante is the last to be there; the youngest between them takes the white glove off his right hand and puts it on the sleek surface. He murmurs a quiet thank you then punches the star onto it just like the others did. He leaves, stopping to offer his sympathies to the surviving family members; his wife, the teen girl and twin boys.

“He was a great man.” Dante tells them as if it helps with anything. “All of us would’ve done the same thing if we were in his shoes.”

90% of them are young and unmarried; the oldest barely reaching his mid-30’s, his parents well off living somewhere in a quiet neighborhood and a doctor for a sister. The squad members have siblings and big families, and they would often speak about what happens if they die. My brother’s an engineer, he’ll survive. My parents don’t give a fuck, so. My younger siblings all went to college with scholarships. They’re not responsible for anyone anymore.

And Dante agrees, somewhat. If he dies out there, his younger siblings will take care of their parents in his stead. They’re capable. He’s not worried at all.

The sky begins to darken after they lower the coffin to the ground.

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 9

prompt: #9 "I wouldn’t do that if I were you." original fiction: the andersons - dante rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: a lil swearing

---

Whirring sounds of the transport plane rings loud in his ears while the door flips open. Dante stands in line with his squad, taking turns in making their way out to the hangar. Landing in US soil doesn’t feel as relieving as he thought it would, because it feels too normal and loud. Chatters are everywhere around them from the crew and fellow soldiers at ease, reuniting with their families and loved ones. The group stops when the sight of their superior greets them, the air feels a little tense when everyone stands in a tidy square formation.

Even though Dante has his eyes to the front, he’s not really paying attention. He didn’t tell anyone that he’s coming home from deployment: not his parents nor his younger siblings, he wants it to be a bit of a surprise. When the final briefing is concluded, Dante salutes and breaks formation along with the others, approaching his squad who are talking with one another.

“Stop being such an ass—”

“—nope, wouldn’t do that if I were you—”

“The service’s tomorrow.” One of them informs after the small commotion called conversation died down a little. Dante’s eyes drift towards his bandaged forehead. “You guys coming?”

It’s a question that doesn’t need an answer. It’s rhetorical. It’s an agreement between all of them that exists even when unspoken. Dante excuses himself first and heads back home.

Not really. The place he stops at isn’t really a home. More like, a place to crash and stay. Dante enters the small, studio apartment silently. Everything is just as he left it almost a year ago, with a little dust gathering here and there. The room is messy, small, and bland. Dante intentionally never puts any characteristics into this place, because it isn’t really his home.

Getting the sack off his shoulder and stripping the uniform away are much needed. Then, shower, a quick one that he’s very much used to. After that, a little cleaning—opening the window, dusting the surfaces, and sorting the fridge are good enough. Dante stops by a shelf and stares at one photo in particular. That remembrance of the past is painful to see.

[aphoestrope]

Fictober '23 - Day 8

prompt: #8 "Give me that, before anything happens." original fiction: arrion universe - dystopian future!au rating: teen and up audiences (may not be appropriate for audiences under 13) warnings: none

---

Alfons hangs around the ‘experiment’ lab, leaning against the wall while watching the younger man tinkering with a device laying forlornly on the table. Although he can only see the man’s back at the moment, it makes a fond smile appear on his face. He was once a feared general; the Queen’s guard, and the leader of the most dangerous elite force in the kingdom, it would be a grave mistake to cross paths with him. He was cold and calculated, yet the man in front of him broke his defenses as easily as flipping the back of his hand.

Dylan turns his head left and right, seemingly looking for something. It isn’t difficult for the former general to guess what he needs—from the device and what part he’s tinkering with—and once he catches his eyes on it, he walks over there immediately…

…just as the former prince does.

Unfortunately for him, Alfons is faster and snatches the tool much quicker with a smug smile.

“Give me that,” Dylan stares up at him, looking unimpressed, “before something happens.”

“What’s going to happen if I don’t, hm?”

He tries to jump and snatches it back, but Alfons’ reflexes won’t allow him. Dylan loves the man like he never loved anyone before. He would sometimes look at him and wonder how the hell did they end up here. The taller man in front of him was sent to kill him and the rest of his peers; he was working for his uncle who took the throne from him.

He fell for him anyway, and now a cheeky smile grows on his lips as he thinks of an idea.

The younger one stands on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on the other man’s lips, lingering there for a while, enjoying the sudden stiffness and enlarged pupils that Alfons has. Dylan reaches for the tool on his hand then pulls away.

“That is going to happen.”

Dylan chuckles silently, leaving the flabbergasted Alfons whose cheeks were getting warmer, blinking his eyes in confusion.