#evincere

祝你生日快樂, 花紅瑞 ! — @evincere ! For my birthday girl, Anthy !

[✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] It's okay if you can't make it, 哥哥 /ᐠ ·•᷄ ˕ •᷅マ [✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] You're probably busy ₍^◞ ˕ ◟^₎⟆ doing non-Anthy related things .... which sound terribly unfun .... /ᐠ ¬`‸´¬マ [✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] Let's just wait until your birthday and we can celebrate together [✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] ദ്ദി/ᐠ｡‸｡ᐟ\ [✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] You just owe me double presents now ≽(• ̀⩊ •́マ≼ Doesn't that sound like fair compensation for breaking my heart? [✉ 捣蛋鬼 :] /ᐠ >˵ ˕ ˵<マ ₊˚⊹ ♡

Thank god he'd been alone when the flurry of texts from Anthy had come through. The tone he'd assigned for her particular texts had been exceptionally obnoxious, and typically would have been silenced during his work day, but he was just about to leave for the day to meet with her for her birthday plans, anyway—

Until an urgent internal casefile regarding the had landed on his desk with an unfeeling shrug from the private who'd delivered it. Caleb cursed under his breath and pored over the file, taking frantic notes and furiously typing up his recommendation for action on the matter. Nearly an hour over the end of his day, but his plans were still salvageable. The flower shop he'd ordered a giant arrangement from was surely closed, but he'd still be able to pick her up for dinner.

Except one of the newest members of his personal staff was currently being written up on an NJP, and it was his responsibility to monitor and sign off on his quarterdecking ASAP, or he'd be on jankers for the entire weekend. He'd figured his subordinate might take about twenty minutes—thirty minutes top—to complete his vicious crucible of pushups and burpees and laps around the fleet grounds. Except the kid had to be some sort of personality hire or nepo baby or something, because how could someone just out of the Academy had such shit stamina and pathetic form otherwise?

It was almost 9PM by the time the private had completed his punishment. Dinner reservation was out of the question. Maybe Caloeb might have time to take her to a late showing of a movie. Wasn't there something she wanted to see? That would involve scrolling back through their messages to see, except he didn't have time for that. He had to figure out if he could make the last train of the night or not. And if not, he'd have to figure something else out.

And of course Caleb had had to figure something out, call in favors and threaten a few people with his colonel voice just to get his boots on the ground in Linkon by nearly midnight, and the whole night was shot. Caleb pulls out his phone to one last contact, praying he'd be able to manage at least one decent effort for Anthy on her birthday.

The horn on his borrowed motorized bike was a little pathetic, but maybe irritating enough to be effective. The motorcycle it was attached to fared little better, but wasn't too different from the one he used to drive for his midnight delivery job in high school. His unbuttoned uniform jacket is hardly the bright orange safety vest he wore over his bomber jackets, but he hopes she gets the nostalgia of sneaking out at midnight for an ice cream run at the convenience stores.

When she pops her head out and peers over her balcony, he sees the devastating smile that he's recognize anywhere. Like a newborn crescent that graces the twilight's crepuscle. And he knows she remembers from the shriek of laughter and the way she skitters back inside to race down and meet him.

Caleb manages to catch her with one arm when she takes a reckless leap at him, her arms coiling around his neck to attach herself to him in the usual way, while he manages to steady himself and the bike. "Double presents, for sure," he assures her, and she grins at him, her aureate eyes glinting bright. "For now, what about a peach ice cream from the corner store? Like you used to get in high school when you'd come with me on deliveries."

He takes his officer's cap off and fits it on her head. Unfortunately, she looked unnervingly charming wearing it, so much so that biting his lip to stop himself from leaning in was a little too obvious a feint to ignore. He knows Anthy sees it by the shit-eating grin she pulls as he lifts her up and sits her on the passenger seat.

"You remember the rules, right?" he asks, affecting a stern tone he knows she'll ignore. Because she always does. "Hold on tight, don't let go no matter what, and ice cream's on me. Just like it always is. And always will be. Until you get tired of ice cream. Or me."

He grins, pinches the tip of her nose for good measure before he mounts his borrowed ride. It's less than 10 minutes to their favorite convenience store. Certainly not the closest, but it has the best selection. He picks out her favorite peach vanilla ice cream and his standard favorite: a corn-shaped maiz y queso ice cream that Anthy has historically never liked, but always asks for a bite of anyways. Just in case it tastes good this time.

Just as expected, Anthy leans over, lips parted, waiting for him to offer up a bite of his ice cream to her expectant mouth. They're sat under a flickering street lamp on the curb of the corner store just like they used to when they were kids. It's a nostalgia that makes his heart ache, for the simplicity of a time he'll never recover. How different everything seemed then. Back then, the terror of the lab still lingered in the marrow of his bones, echoing hollow in the recesses of his memories in ripples of time he'd never be able to forget. He was certain then that the quiet, quotidian peace they shared was only an interim to another terror around the corner. And in a way he'd been right. They'd had a few years of a safety and surety that never felt quite right, except in rosy retrospect. They couldn't have known how different everything would become. How different he'd become.

And somehow there was a certainty that Anthy never failed to bring. A dogged resolution, an unwavering faith and faithfulness to their connection that he couldn't dismiss if he tried. She'd loved him in a thousand incarnations in this lifetime alone, in all the vast and disparate ways he's existed to her. And he knew she always would.

Caleb leans in and kisses her softly, before artfully replacing his lips with his proffered ice cream. "Happy Birthday, 花紅瑞," he says softly, meaningfully. "This isn't the birthday I envisioned for you, but the best laid plans of mice and men and all that .... but somehow, this is exactly where and how I'd want to be with you tonight, though. And every night. You and me, like the only people in the whole wide world under this street light with our melting ice cream and our hands that always find each other no matter what."

On cue, Anthy's hand slips deliberately into his.

Kissing the top of her head, his sclera crinkling in the reflection of her gilded mirror. “The happiest of birthdays, to you, my pet. You will be the belle of the ball, amongst the Senobium elites tonight.”

⊰ & . hinako's birthday 2026 ♡ ;; ⊱ // @evincere

WOW, ELYON'S OUTDONE HIMSELF, hinako cannot help but think as he takes it upon himself to be the one to adorn her with the last of his presents onto her neck. her room - while usually unapologetically ostentatious is ever more so, but hinako is reveling in the moment. her smile is almost impossible to conceal as it spreads across her lips. « oh elyon !!! you spoil me !!! i can't wait to coordinate some new outfits - all thanks to you ♡ »

she knows that while she is technically an extension - a representation of his brand and establishment but she clearly was doing something right to have earned such high favour from him. and who was she to shy away from roistering ? hinako meets his eyes in their reflection in the vanity and kisses her fingers before blowing elyon a kiss through the mirror.

« gifts and fun - truly, i'm the luckiest girl in the eridia ~ don't worry big guy, no one will be able to take their eyes off of me tonight ⋆ »

@evincere asked : “Wait a minute, what do you mean, a couple of murders?” From anthy who is like 🧍‍♂️

" - Exactly what it sounds like, I'm afraid. The average - oh, a few every three or four hours." He shrugs and slouches against the table, arms propped on the smooth wooden surface. Sleeves are rolled up carelessly to the elbows, croupier's uniform rumpled and lived in, tie tugged half undone, a slash of crimson at his throat. The cards never stop their dance from one hand to another, smooth and hypnotic motion of fingers continuous and languid despite the commotion.

A smile touches his lips.

"All part of the fun at this particular establishment. The NIGHT'S YOUNG - and in N109, debts have a way of sneaking up on you." Tone is easy, and in the next moment the ace of spades emerges between his fingertips, sprouting like a flower- he leans across the table just as suddenly, and offers it to her as one might offer a rose, voice pressed low, "...Unless you have a friend who's particularly GOOD at managing debts, that is."

And when she turns to regard the sun, a willowy hand pressed to her forehead as she scrambles for a weathered parasol to mitigate the offense of the brightness she's subject to, Julian spies an expectedly lovely profile: delicate nose and a charming twist of her pouting, bitten lips with displeasure, pale eyes like seaglass narrowed in irritation of the sun. She's beautiful, and he couldn't have expected anything less. But it's he bearing that intrigues him: the absolute hauteur, the patrician disdain, the perfect confidence within her mien that informs him of her decisiveness, her purposiveness. Julian likes people of conviction, in spite of the irony that no one assumes that he has any at all.

Which is why his heart beats a little wildly as he traverses the dock to where she stands, bowing with a theatrical flourish he could hardly help himself committing when he introduces himself: "Felix told me I should prepare for precious cargo, but said nothing about it being enchantingly beautiful. My name is Julian. Devorak.For all intents and purposes, I shall be captain to your ship. Might I know the name of my newest and most delightful passenger?"

❝ Devorak? You are a Czech? ❞ An empty question meant only to punctuate what she already knows — what his features confess so emphatically. Something feline in the form, shadows purling, tall as a fairy’s high tower, all across the bay; his mouth and nose the architecture of that famed Bohemian baroqueness — lavish, elegant in its excess of curvilinear shapes and trembling emotion. At the behest of his jutting bones — cheek, brow, and chin — light and shadow vie for dominance over the planes of his face. The fine crystalwork of his one visible eye cannot go unremarked, either; that moonstone palace clearly of Crown Lands make, shied by such handsome, melancholy liddedness ... Yes, he is a Czech. Though the sheer ardor of his supplications to the perisi before him suggests that his loyalty to the Habsburgs might be ... faltering.

❝ Adelaide. But you can say Adelinka. ❞ The parasol spins in her idling fingers, back and forth, and forth and back. A secret, fairy hypnosis. ❝ I can hear your heartbeat. ❞

"With all due respect, your majesty," this low-born dares, "it isn't my place to think how my betters do." After all, he's but a peasant, isn't he now?, as both a laborer and a creature that had come tumbling out the drudgery just to toil in the forge. He was but a mere yokel and a servant, a simple armor-clattering dullard who would die for his kingdom. At the very least, Hal would try for reverential, his gaze sat and lowered for the might of their grace, but that fire in his belly like a furnace to a bellow? It smolders. And even here, bent low, the king should feel it all about him: his heat and his rage.

Send 🫂 for three useless headcanons I have about our muses @vendeath / @evincere

MY BABIES!!!

Vendetta has a reputation of being fastidiously dressed when she's at home with her order. Extremely presentable, always perfectly arranged. This is because Lilit sends her nun home covered in vicious bite marks and bright red welts and scratches that she has to cover with her uniform.

Vespera has been tied up by her rosaries before.

Happy birthday, 小貍花 ! @evincere for Miss Anthy !

He's waiting in the vestibule to receive her, the mechanical cat ears he's wearing standing at attention when he hears the nearing footsteps that he'd know anywhere as Anthy's. The click of the unlatched door signals a rush of foolish delight as he prepares to begin the tableau, initiated with the first delighted gasp and the mad glitter of her aurelian-gold eyes.

Dressed in a deep red swallowtail coat and trousers, Sylus bows in perfect deference to the birthday girl. Lets her take in the sight of his ridiculous outfit, which was naturally designed to meet the whimsy of her equally ridiculous and loudly-lamented whimsies. But if she was his 小貍花, he could certainly be her 大猫 for her special day, at least.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀

[ jealous ] sender kisses receiver hard after seeing someone else flirt with them [ hallway ] pinned against the wall, sender kisses receiver between hurried breaths

for @evincere ! - I KISS ANTHY'S EYES MWAH MWAH

Anthy's expression was the opposite of unreadable as she watched him be pulled from her side: her bright, gilt eyes narrowed into an evident displeasure, her pretty little rosebud mouth purled into a familiar yet terrifying cipher of her unhappiness.

She wasn't just unhappy. She was incensed. And Caleb was too well-versed in the perversely deranged workings of her vengeance-inclined thoughts to know that someone would pay for the transgression upon her quality time with him.

If there was one thing she cherished above all, it was her time with him. Their time together. She'd always been clingy—if that was the right word. Like a velcro kid. Couldn't keep her hand out of his on a walk. Always slipping into his lap like she did when she was a kid—a habit she never quite outgrew. Even when it was more than inconvenient that she hadn't. Wanting him to help with her homework when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, because doing anything together with him was exponentially less boring. So when he went off to college and their time together became something of a rarity, even a second apart was enough to send her into a spiral. Which could be cute once in a while. But not always. And definitely wouldn't be today.

Not when she'd come all the way from Linkon City by herself for his graduation, to claim that rare allocation of time with him without Josephine's superintendence. Like a panopticon, the way she'd watch them. But she wasn't here. Some convenient excuse that neither Caleb nor Anthy cared about when it meant they didn't have to resort to telepathic clown to clown communication and stepping on eggshells around the old lady. Or hiding the fact how much Caleb loved when Anthy's hand found his, in that needful, demanding way it always did when she felt free enough to reach for him.

They belonged together. In every conceivable way. His heart beat furiously with the frustration of being pulled away from her by bold, uninvited hands, regret limned with a little satisfaction when he sees how much it bothers Anthy, too. Only she's honest about it. He's gotta pull that demurring, humble smile he does when he doesn't want to be around other people. A perfect cover, and one that people want to believe. It isn't that he's full of himself, he's just bashful. It's a simple deception. One he never has to pull with Anthy.

Which is exactly why he hates any second he's forced to be apart from her. Just as much as she hated spending any amount of time away from him that felt inessential. Especially when it's some blonde whose made something of an art in the way that she tosses back her perfectly-coiffed hair over her shoulder, or lights up her delicate features with a brilliant smile exerted expressly for him, that's caught his hand and is tugging him towards some half blotto group of classmates gathering around a tray of shots to be taken in solidarity of their graduation.

That perfumed hand on his is slipping serpentine around his forearm, a purposed presence like a weight holding him in place like she knew he'd bolt the second he could. Which was absolutely true. No sooner had their raised their shot glasses full of firewater and downed them, Caleb had extracted himself with a careful urgency, making all the heartless apologies he could manage while weaving his way through the throng back to the wall where he'd left Anthy.

He's greeted with hands grabbing at his shirtfront, stronger than they have any reason to be. And when she nearly slams him into the wall, there's more than one way she's knocked the wind out his lungs. Her kiss feels like cannibalism, the way she savages his lips with teeth and tongue and sharp words whispered under her breath, cursing—the blonde? him? He can't tell. He doesn't care. The liquor on her lips is as bitter as her jealousy, and he licks it up like a man starved.

His arms circle her waist, hand pressed between her shoulder blades to hold her to him. He can feel the furious pulse of her heart upon his palm and against his chest, and the realization that she'd willfully immured herself within his arms is a little more than a whiskey-filled Caleb can comprehend to any meaningful extent.