#nyxtales

You read it right, I’m opening up commissions! 

Mainly because yours truly needs money, but also for experience.

Name your fandom, your ship (or scenario), and how long you’d like it to be.  For obvious reasons, bigger commissions will take a bit longer, but it’ll be that much more satisfying~ I do work, though, so there is a 3 business day minimum for commissions to be completed. 

Rate: $1/100 words.  

Fandoms I Can Write For: Final Fantasy (III,IV,VII,IX,X/X-2,XIII Verse, Dissidia, XIV, XV), Kingdom Hearts, Legend of Zelda (Skyward Sword, Ocarina, Majora’s Mask, Windwaker, Twilight Princess), Kingdom Hearts (BbS, 1, 2, Chain of Memories, DDD), Devil May Cry (1-4), Metal Gear (Solid-4), Tales of (Symphonia, Symphonia: Dawn of the New World, Graces, Xilia, Zestiria, Berseria), Granblue Fantasy, Wild Arms (2 & 3), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Drakengard 1-3 

I will NOT write the following: non-con, dub-con, incest, vore, bestiality

My paypal: [email protected]

And slowly the fire burns

Eating away at the corpse

Of what used to be me.

Love heals,

But loving you reminds me of how selfish I actually am.

It's that selfishness, that want-

But you are oblivious.

And, for whatever time I have left, I can't push you away.

Not when this may be the last I can just enjoy your presence.

Because the best way to deal with emotions is to use them to create.

It’s under the cover of night that you feel safest.  Wrapped in your blankets, protected from the world at large as the day sleeps and monsters awaken.  You’re safe, you think, safe from everything.

Safe from everything except the monsters in your head.

They don’t bite.  There’s nothing left to bite.  Instead, they sit and they whine. They whine and scream and howl until, as usual, you forego sleep and instead sit with the monsters.

After all, you are friends with the monsters.

Under the cover of night, you are the monster.

You are the king and the queen.  You are the alpha and the omega.

You are their creation and their destruction.

A mix of 2 things--the writing sprint with @elleleuthold and a prompt from @blazinghope I’d long had set to work on.  Sorry for the absence, loves.  School and life got a bit overwhelming.  Anyway, here goes.   The prompt this is based from is one person experiencing the Mandela Effect but no one else remembering it.  

Warning: mentions abuse.  If it triggers you, don’t continue.

“We used to be close, once,” she said to no one in particular, taking a sip of a lukewarm coffee.  She sat quietly in a coffee shop, watching memories dance in the trail’s of strangers’ conversations or leap out at her from the shadows when she stared at them too long.  

“Come on, we have to hurry up--tell her what you want!” hissed a mother, stress lines etching valleys into her face.  Her teenage daughter--the barely hidden need to be seen and yet careful distance gave her away-turned to the barista, eyes flicking to her mother as the woman continued to snap at her.  The barista watched the girl, waiting for her to speak. 

The girl struggled to find her voice.  She could see it in her eyes, how they kept scanning for some impending threat, how she tried not to visibly flinch as her mother continued to spew increasingly hateful diatribes at her, how the girl would start to speak, but hesitate.  

That was me, once.

“What can I get for you?” the barista asked, purposefully being cheerful and ignoring the snarling woman behind the terrified girl.  

“I, uh, what do have with macchiato?” the girl asked, flinching as her mother sighed loudly.  “I-I mean--”

“If you don’t know what you want, the--”

“Get her a french vanilla latte.”  She had moved from her seat, coffee forgotten, the moment the mother had started digging through her over-sized purse.  I’m not going to stand by and let her be destroyed.  Not like we were.  “It’s not a macchiato, but it’s got that same balance and vanilla would be nice on a stressful day, don’t you think?  It’s on me.  I’m Monique, by the way.”  Monique searched for the girl’s gaze, holding it as gently and tightly as she could with her own.  You’re not alone, she tried to say, it won’t always be like this.  

“Thanks, Monique,” the girl replied after a moment, hesitant with her mother watching their dialogue so closely.  “Michelle.”

“Here’s your latte, ma’am,” the barista told them, handing the girl, Michelle, the coffee.  “Thank you for coming and have a great day!”

“All right, let’s go,” the mother said, turning on her heel and storming out of the shop.  “We don’t have time to waste with your little friends.”

“It gets better,” Monique told her with a faint smile.  “Don’t lost hope.” Not like I did, she wanted to add.  Michelle gave her a small spark of a smile before striding out after her mother.  Monique watched them for a second, before heading out the other way.  It was time to go home.  There wasn’t much to do when she got home, though.

Monique lived alone.  Her family--what was left it--stayed in the city she had been raised in.  She ventured out, spread her wings and flew the moment the chance presented itself.  But to spread her wings, she had to cut the chains, and that meant leaving everything she knew behind.

The only thing I had to leave behind was my precious sister.  How is she doing, trapped in that damn tower?  Is she eating right?  Doing her homework?  Lord knows she’ll play all night if someone doesn’t get on her.  Let Mama do it and she’ll break my baby...does Kiki have anyone to talk to?  I know she can’t talk to me, but maybe--

Cold water startled Monique, reminding her of the bath she was supposed to be running.  She reached and turned it off.  After going through her bedtime ritual, she laid back on her bed, staring at her phone.

“I want to call you, baby,” Monique whispered as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.  She scrolled through the messages between her and her sister.  “But if I do, she’s going to hurt you.  I wish I could have taken you, show you something better.   Sure, it’s hard sometimes, but at least you’d be safe.  You wouldn’t be on eggshells.  Wouldn’t be beaten at the drop of a hat.  Damn that bitch, lying to the authorities like that.  Like that bruise was caused by a fall...”  She rolled onto her side, holding her phone to her chest as she cried herself to sleep.  

When she woke, it was to a pair of warm, honey brown eyes matched with the gentle rays of a honeysuckle smile and thick, flowing hair.

“Mo! Wake up!  You’ve got to take me to school, remember?”

“Huh, wha--Kiki?” Monique stammered, sitting upright instantly.  True enough, it was her, bright eyes and all.  Kiki sighed, shaking her head and grabbing a cup.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to drink Merlot before bed?” Kiki asked.  Her mouth quirked up in a half moon grin as she tsked, shaking the bottle in her hand.  “Looks like you failed at adulting again.”

“Look here you little--wait, what about Mama?  How are you here?” Monique queried.  Her eyes were narrowed, she knew, and her shoulders were tense.  Kiki’s smile faded into a thin line of worry and sadness in her eyes.

“How much did you drink?” Kiki asked quietly, looking towards the light streaming in the room for a moment.  Kiki turned back to Monique, holding her gaze with a gentle smile and warm eyes as the light fell across her strong shoulders and gentle poise.  “You took me away, remember?  We ran.  Mama tried to come and take me, but you showed them everything--the diaries, the bruises, the beatings...all of it.  She gets out today, though, so you were drinking a bit last night ‘cause you were in your feelings.  Dad is supposed to come through town tonight since he finished that delivery--we’re going for dinner at that new sushi place!”

Monique just looked at her sister.  She could see the lines of laughter on her face, the way she stood with utmost confidence and happiness.  The last time she saw her, Kiki had been small and hunched, always watching for the next beating to hide from.  

Was it all a dream? Monique wondered, getting up and reaching into her closet for clothes.  “Sorry, I guess I did get hammered--gimme a sec and we’ll be out.”

“Okay!  I’ve got your coffee ready downstairs!” Kiki called as she danced out.

In the safety of her room, Monique paused and looked at the item she had pulled out of the closet.  It took her a moment to realize tears were streaming down her face as she looked at the photograph in hand.

She doesn’t remember that hell.  She’s happy.  Somehow, I got her out and she doesn’t remember any of it.  No one does.

This takes place during Awakening of Shadows.  To summarize, Damian and Aurelia have been trapped after being captured for the past few months.  However, time flows differently, so to them, it feels as though years have past.  Unlike Aurelia, Damian is not human and as such has had to deal with the troubles that fact has brought.  In this point of the story, Aurelia is being released from her captivity while having to leave Damian behind.  This is the brief bit of time they have to talk before shit hits the fan.   After all, what is kept in the dark must come to light.

Note: bold is Damian’s telepathy.  Italics are Aurelia.

They were sitting at dinner.  It was a restaurant full of people who spoke in loud yet hushed conversations of their hopes, dreams, and happenings.  Damian allowed himself a cursory glance, feeling the energy of the area as he focused on Aurelia.   She was looking around as well, sensing who and what was around them.  

Their gazes met.

“You too, huh?” Aurelia asked him, smiling slightly as she saw the black creeping into his eyes.  Damian gave her a smile after a moment, shoulders tensing as he reached for the menu.  “Well, what would you like to eat, love?”

“Preferably, something hearty,” Damian replied quietly, keeping his focus on the menu.  You’re really playing this up, came the afterthought, directed at her as she smiled and continued to peruse the drink menu.  He paused and glanced up at her, feeling the corners of his mouth turn downward.  The smile she was wearing didn’t reach her eyes.

“Of course.  You always did eat a lot,” Aurelia replied, flipping through the drink menu casually.  “I don’t get to see you often.”

You won’t see me for a while if this succeeds.  Damian found the dish he wanted to try.  If they were going to actually bring out the food, he had every intention of savoring it.  Everything smells so good… “What can I say?  Hard work makes for a big appetite.”

“So does starvation,” Aurelia murmured.  The waiter came, asking for their orders.  Aurelia ordered a light meal with a small drink; Damian ordered something heavier with desserts and an appetizer.  After the waiter left, she eyed him.  “No alcohol?”

“Not feeling it tonight, love,” Damian explained, giving her an apologetic smile.  Alcohol doesn’t last in my system.  I don’t need to be drunk on Aether mixes right now.  Maybe later.  “Besides, why do I need alcohol when I can gaze at you?”

Aurelia looked away, fighting the rising blush that threatened to overtake her cheeks. Even being black didn’t save her from the tell-tale hue of color in her face as she reluctantly laughed.  Damian actually smiled then.  She looked at him, tears bright in her eyes.  Damian reached over and kissed her forehead gently, pulling away to hold her gaze.

Be strong, angel.  You can’t let them see you break.

The steely tone that crept into her royal green eyes brought him a degree of hope.  He couldn’t afford to let her fall now, not when she was so close to being free.  Not when she was the reason he threw himself into a proverbial and literal hell.  Not when she was why he could be where he was, trying to save her now.

“You are such a flirt,” Aurelia eventually teased.  Her voice shook slightly, but it was far more warm than it had been earlier.  “So, tell me about your day.  How was work?”

“It was long,” Damian sighed, taking a sip of water.  His free hand twitched, the glamour breaking for a moment.  It revealed a black hand tipped with long, slender claws laced with scars from wounds both self-inflicted and inflicted upon him.  But only for a moment.  Then it was merely his hand, tapping against the table at an increasingly agitated pace.  Aurelia placed her hand on his, marvelling at the size difference--his hand could engulf hers, if he placed it over hers.

He froze.

“Want to talk about it?” Aurelia asked him, gently resting her hand on his glamoured claws.  She tried to meet his gaze.  Damian refused to meet hers.  He sighed heavily.

“I got promoted,” Damian said simply.  I’m corrupted, he “said” at the same time.  Aurelia was grateful she had a poker face as she felt her stomach sink and bile rise.  He looked at the glass of water on the table,  not moving.  She couldn’t even feel him breathing.  “They told me a couple of weeks ago.” They did it a couple of weeks ago.  Dear old Mom’s suggestion.  I’m too strong, even feral.  So this is their way of making me controllable.  “I should be told of the relocation sometime this week.”  I’ve heard them talk about it, when they think I’m gone.  It’s how they’re going to force me to disappear.  And then they’re going to put me in a sensory deprivation chamber.  “I’m sorry, Aura.”

Aurelia really wished she didn’t have telepathy at the moment, that she couldn’t hear the pain as he spoke to her.  He was keeping distant from her so it wouldn’t affect her.  It made sense.   It was logical.  

It still hurt.

What else are you keeping from me, Dami?

“I haven’t been able to get in contact with my aunts or uncles recently,” Damian went on, slowly, quietly, as he pulled his claws away from her touch.  I can feel them, but...they’ve withdrawn.  I know they had to.  “But they told me they went on a trip.  I’m looking forward to when they return.  I actually miss them.”  When it happened, they told me they’d be there, that they’d never leave me.  

“It’s okay to miss them, Damian,” Aurelia found herself saying, dimly aware that she was speaking aloud.  “They’re your family after all.”  She wanted to say half, but she didn’t know how to say it just yet.  There was a lot she didn’t know how to tell him just yet.  

She also knew she was running out of time.

“You’re right,” he agreed, staring at some thought as he looked away.

But it still hurts like hell.

“Well, what about your brother?  I know you’re pretty busy.  Have you spoken with him any?’ Aurelia continued querying.  How much longer do we have, Damian?

“I hate being so busy,” Damian grated out.  He didn’t look at her, but she could feel him darken.  It was an uncomfortable sensation, one that she would have balked at had this happened before their being captured.  Now, she accepted, even reveled, in it.  It meant he trusted her.  He used to hide.  Blake is...there.  I can’t speak with him as well.  He blocked himself off so he wouldn’t be corrupted, too.  “We still talk.  Just not as much.  Talked a bit yesterday.” He’s there when it gets too much.  

“I’m glad you two are still close,” Aurelia murmured, watching him.  Damian’s jaw clenched.  She watched in quiet fascination as his marbled chocolate skin tensed and rippled.  The binding was starting to show, and the runes engraved on his being were starting to show through the heavy layers of glamours.  To others, they would only see a black man staring into space angrily and wonder why such a beautiful and handsome man would be so angry sitting across from an equally lovely black woman.  What Aurelia saw was both a man and a creature chained and tortured, resigning himself to even more as he suffered quietly for the sake of another.  “I wish you’d fight for yourself…”

“Who,” here he paused, finally turning to look at her as he placed his claws back on the table, “said I don’t, Aura?”  

She could see the red lines of energy coursing through his plated hide.  Damian met her gaze, smiling wide.

“I am Damian Ezekiel Steinhardt,” he told her, keeping his voice low as the waiter approached.  He thanked the waiter for bringing their food as he checked the timer on his phone.  As the waiter left, Damian placed the phone down, his face grim as he continued to smile and look at Aurelia.  “I am a hunter, Aura, in every aspect,” he continued--she couldn’t tell if he was reassuring her or reaffirming it to himself--”but most of all, I am a Steinhardt.  ‘What is mine, is mine to cherish and guard.  What lies in the shadows is mine alone.  Those whom the shadows claim are forever cherished.’”

I fight for all of us, to be...to be someone that you guys can be proud of.

Nothing else was said as they ate.  Aurelia picked at her food--she was given food in her captivity, unlike Damian.  They didn’t dare break the convenant with a Watcher.  However, her oversight in laying out the terms was now the reason behind why Damian had been tortured as he had.

She knew every detail.  

They made sure she did.

Damian got up suddenly, hastily muttering an excuse as he rushed to the bathroom.  Aurelia tried to ask, but was only brushed off as he ran.  She turned to the table, staring blankly at the phone.  In the corner of her eye, she could see the incorporeal form of Damian’s brother, Blake.  Due to a tragic and twisted result of misused magic, Blake existed as a spirit bound to Damian.  A spell had been cast prior so that Blake could assume a corporeal shape, but Aurelia could only hope that it remained intact after being subjected to all sorts of torture.

“Magic really can broaden one’s horizons,” Aurelia muttered to no one in particular, reaching for the phone.  She tried to not focus on the memories of Damian’s screams echoing in her head or that he felt like the very shadows that had plagued the town for the past few months.

In the corner, Blake pointed towards the bathroom.  

Aurelia raised an eyebrow, but continued to look at the phone.  She scrolled through the apps and found the timer.  She needed to know.

The phone alarm went off.

Blake pulled at her this time, pointing towards the bathroom.  She couldn’t hear him--an effect of the spells keeping them from acting out--but she could read his lips and the terror displayed on his face.  But before she could get up, Damian emerged from the shadows that led to the bathrooms.  Aurelia reached out to him as he approached the table, wanting to grab his arm and fuss about scaring her so badly, but Blake immediately yanked her away from him.  Damian’s eyes glanced towards Blake as he mouthed two words, taking his seat silently.

Aurelia sat back down, eyes wide as she realized what had happened.  

Damian mouthed “thank you.”

She looked towards Blake, praying that she was wrong and feeling her heart break when she saw the tears in Blake’s cat-like eyes.  Blake kept his place partially in front of her.  Damian ate a bit, drinking some water before he looked at them.

“Sorry, something didn’t sit in my stomach right,” Damian explained with a faint chuckle.  He was ashen in color and the black in his eyes had overtaken his sclera completely.  It made a stark contrast with his bright gold irises.  She could see the crimson lines of malicious energy coursing through his body, the violent rivers standing out against his charcoal hide.  The runes around his neck were visible now.  Thankfully, he was dressed in a shirt with a high collar and he had long hair--it’d hide it for now.

Aura, in the next ten minutes, they are going to activate the spell that will enrage the corruption.  I am holding it back now, but I have no idea what will happen when they activate it.  

“Did you eat the truffles? You know you’re allergic!” Aurelia made a point to fuss, unable to keep her voice from cracking.  They had to keep up the farce until she left.  Neither of them wanted to know what would come of not doing that.  She hated how calm he was.  She was in tears.

“Sorry, I was so hungry I just started eating,” Damian laughed, the sound grating to her ears.  He was in agony.  She could feel it, hear it.  “So, want to go home soon?”

“In a little bit,” Aurelia admitted slowly, her eyes meeting his slowly as she realized what he was doing.  

He was going to willingly accept being corrupted.  No one was sure what would happen since they weren’t sure what manner of creature he was, but most were driven insane and hell-bent on destruction.  The person they were before being corrupted was always destroyed, lost to the twisted mockery that was warped into their place and the power that came with it.  

Damian was going to try to use that to break them out.

Blake told me that Lyam and the rest found us.  They’re waiting.  Blake marked Raphael so that they’ll find him, and they’re already releasing you.  This is extra insurance.  You know, since dear old Mom is going to throw a fit.

“Damian, you can’t,” Aurelia hissed.  The waiter came again, asking about dessert.  “No thanks.”

“I’ll take some to go,” Damian told him, weaving a minor illusion.  He smiled at the man, turning back to Aurelia as the smile faded.  “It’s already set in, Aura.  The least I can do is put up a fight before…”

Aurelia felt her breath catch when she saw the red seep into his eyes.

Damian held his smile, though she could see and hear his soul scream in agony.

Blake stood immediately in front of her.

For a moment, everything was still.

“I don’t know how long I can fight this, Aurelia,” Damian finally said, his voice low and echoing.  “But I know that we’re going to be free.”

And then there was nothing but darkness.

Blake vanished in the enveloping shadows.  Her wings opened, and she couldn’t help the moan of relief at finally having them free.  In her immediate vicinity was light, but she couldn’t see past that.  However, she could feel.  Aurelia walked forward slowly, reaching out until she felt scaly hide.  She followed it until she could feel the wet smoothness of fangs larger than her hands and rough horns that curled around a face that remained cloaked in shadow.  

“Damian,” she croaked as her voice caught.  Aurelia could feel his awareness flickering, feel it being eaten away by the corruption that was everywhere around her.  It took her a moment to realize that she was protected by Blake’s magic.  She dimly wondered how long it would last.  

Aura…run….

“I can’t, not without telling you,” Aurelia replied.  She felt his snout press against her heart.  He was seeking light even now, even as shrouded in shadow as he was.  “Faust is your father, Damian.  Lyam is Blake’s father.  Isabella lied.  She lied to all of you.”

What do you--

“Faust has been trying to protect you as best he can, but he’s cursed...just like you were.  She’ll kill you if he breaks away.  I know he’s been trying to find a way to break it.  I don’t know if he did,” Aurelia continued, holding onto him as she felt his tell-tale temper rising.  He never was good at hiding when he was angry.

Not that she blamed him right now.

Aura, please, you can’t--

“Faust is a friend, and ally,” Aurelia told him, pressing on.  “He’s kept them from harming me, taught me how to understand you.”

Aurelia, run!

Damian reared up, shoving her away.  He vanished from her vision, but she could still feel his presence.  She could also feel the presence of Isabella, Faust, and a number of other creatures.  Soon, the sound of rending flesh and battle reached her ears.  Blake picked up her, his claws solid against her body as he did.

“We need to go,” Blake told her.

Aurelia ran.