#I’d have added the scenes like what I HAD intended to

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

I'm not opposed to hear your rambling of DP in dungeon meshi

Ayyy someone asked! 

Oh, you’ve activated my trap card.

So, naturally, I cannot find the post because Tumblr ate it off my blog, BUT what they’re referring to is a post about how the Fenton parents could have TOTALLY ended up overshooting when trying to get to the Ghost Zone and ended up in different worlds instead… and thus decided ‘hey free children!’ And surprise adopted (read: kidnapped) both Jazz and Danny from two different realms. 

I actually had a LOT of ideas on how you could do this. But, I ultimately decided that a post-canon approach was best for this little exercise. Not that you COULDN’T add Jazz and Danny, I suppose, but the timeline and the character movements are, for lack of better terms of it, EXTREMELY tight. You can wiggle an OC in there, sure, but for a fully developed character from ANOTHER media, especially one as OP as Danny, it’s far more difficult. 

That’s my way of saying, this absolutely has Dungeon Meshi spoilers if you’ve never read the manga and don’t know how it ends. That’s my only warning. 

So here’s the ideas and eventual story (there’s elements that are general and some that are specific to whatever storyline I ended up with) that I have doubts I will ever write but someone might as well enjoy them. I technically wrote a few scenes in my notes app, but these aren’t those, this is—kind of the whole roadmap? It’s a little funky still though, haha. 

Here goes!

As with the post, Jazz is Barbara Gordon’s twin, and Danny was actually a half foot. And now he’s a halfa halffoot. Lmao. Lol even. 

Before I chose to do a post-canon approach, I considered having the Fentons as a party. Jazz and Danny are basically playing babysitter to their FAR too enthusiastic parents who keep almost or actually dying because they’re exploring the whole immortal dungeon thing. While that is scrapped, some of the ideas I did have came from this, er, phase of development? So I felt it was worth a shoutout. 

Marcille describes magic (well, mana) as coming from ‘The Infinite’, which is also where demons come from. And these demons can do things like grant wishes, ‘feed’ off of emotion, and change people. They also, once sealed into dungeons, do various things inside these dungeons, including making animals that cannot exist without magic for very long but also seem to still require a sort of internal logic. This sounds a LOT like how ghosts work in Danny Phantom, if you take maybe a hint of liberty and a dose of speculation about how lairs likely work. 

Basically, The Infinite = the Ghost Zone, also known as the Infinite Realms. Demons = Ghosts. Dungeons = Lairs. And, most importantly… Ectoplasm = Magic. 

For my own sanity and also for a successful meshing of these two very different universes, I’ve decided to go with the semi-fanon idea that the influences of the people in the living world can create things in the Infinite Realms. Belief creates reality, basically. For example, perhaps Pandora was never alive in the first place, but because people heard and believed her story so much, she became a ghost (realms being, demon, what have you). So, while those in Amity Park might not have initially believed much in ghosts, they saw them, and because people saw Phantom as powerful and either villain or hero-like, Danny and the rest of the ghosts became more like comic book characters than spooky ghosts (somewhat explains how things are still a LITTLE spooky, but seem a bit more heavy on the probably dead people thing at the beginning of the series). 

Similarly, demons became what they are over time as the people of the world influenced them. You could call what demons started as, as ‘proto ghosts’, and that every world that HAS ghosts has them, and the beliefs change them into whatever form and binds them to whatever rules the dimension now holds. 

There should still be some universal ‘laws’, though. For example, ghosts exist in both stories, and so do magic, as do spaces that operate at least SLIGHTLY outside the usual laws that govern the area outside of it (again, lairs and the Ghost Zone, dungeons in general). 

All this to say—when Danny ends up in the Dungeon Meshi world, he ends up being a very unorthodox and extremely powerful mage, but might lose a good percentage of his usual ghost powers. He is not salty about this, no, really, ITS FINE JAZZ.  

This would be less of a problem if there wasn’t a SLIGHT issue about halffoots being known as not being magically inclined… and those that might have had an interest in the past sorta-kinda got taken by the elves. 

Another note is that this isn’t going to be a particularly Fenton parents friendly sort of story, because the whole thing STARTS with them KIDNAPPING CHILDREN and passing them off as their own. I’m sure there are ways to spin it as a happy tale, but uhhhhhhhhhhh. I’m not. 

An additional point that you do NOT have to take from this if you make your own story is, if you’re a big fan of halffoots having tails (which, to fit with the humans-all-have-the-same-bones thing, are made of cartilage), you can have Danny have been docked as a baby by the Fentons. Adjust angst regarding that to your own tastes, but I imagine its probably something that HAD been done in the past for not-great-reasons, and so the social stigma for the parents doing that to their child is messed up—but due to the dangers of dungeoneering, some halffoots may have lost their tails in accidents or just because they were THAT serious. Point is, it’s at minimum a gossip point. 

Anyways, as halffoots are very short, and Danny is one, by age fourteen his teachers are probably going to go ‘uuuuhhhh, I think there’s a problem here?’ But the Fenton parents are oddly reluctant to arrange a doctor’s visit to check for various possible causes of potential dwarfism. Like, they’re already dodgy about doctor visits, but this seems particularly avoidant. 

Both Jazz and Danny might know that they’re adopted, but even if they don’t, they know where all their papers are. So they snoop through them to see if there’s any leads or anything. 

There’s various ways to for them to figure it out—realizing there’s no paper trail about their adoptions or about how delayed the at-home-birth paperwork was—but one that I did contemplate was that the Fentons KEPT the tail they cut off Danny as a baby, claiming it was a ‘lower spine surgery and don’t worry about it champ!’. 

As you might imagine, he’s worried about it. But also, you can nix that plot point if you’re not a fan. (Well, I mean it technically my own story developing here, but—part of this exercise is to see what other people would take away from what I’ve got too.)

More searching through papers and likely a conversation if not confrontation with the parents later, Jazz and Danny learn about the different realms and such. 

Jazz is still worried about Danny’s health. They SEEMED human, but what if they weren’t and they were just lucky to not have gotten super sick? Or what if they’ll live thousands of years or something?? 

Danny is, understandably, a little upset about everything too. So they both pack what they might need, basing their travel kits on what notes they DID have about the world they were heading to (minimal technology, so laptops were a bad idea, but Jazz did pack a bunch of instructional books on How To Make Things), and got the dimensional coordinates to where they needed to go. Or, if you don’t wanna explain HOW those dimensional coordinates are still accurate or how that system might work now that the Ghost Zone was there, because who knew how to navigate that place on a GOOD day, Danny could just ask Frostbite or Clockwork for a quick favor. On that note, Danny should probably have a way home—personally, I gave him the starting ability to make portals, although they’re not YET powerful to get through, which is why he’s concerned that he might actually be unwell on his human side. 

POINT IS. Jazz and Danny arrive, taking the name Nightingale just in case their parents went around calling themselves as Fenton and pissing people off by, oh say, kidnapping their child. 

A quick survey around tells them a bit about the world, with Danny probably very used to being very adaptable on the fly. And also we’ll let him keep invisibility. As a treat. Though it may now be a bit more difficult to do. Jazz is tasked to either help Danny to let him hide behind her presence when needing to actually be invisible, read through the travel journal from the Fentons to find clues to Danny’s birth family, and her own self imposed mission to reinvent running water and water filtration systems. She is not about this no-indoor-plumbing life. 

As it so happens, with the Golden Kingdom beginning to pop up, there’s plenty of spaces and houses in various states of repair that they’re currently REALLY trying to fill up. Jazz files some paperwork about being refugees, and they take a house that’s pretty far into the woods for most of the people looking for a place. The two need the space, as they are keeping literal dimensional secrets. Other than the lengthy walk to town, it’s fine. Plus, it lets Jazz do her plumbing project. 

Once they both have a pretty good grasp on things, Danny C-student Nightingale realizes OH. WHAT IF I’M A HALFFOOT— wait no I’m not going by that. Call me a hobbit instead. In Jazz’s defense, she spent most of her time grasping everything else about the world, or otherwise spent most of her time they spent either camping in the woods or making their new house LIVEABLE that the whole ‘different races’ thing completely sped by her. Plus, where they live might be more Tallman heavy. 

Good to know he’s healthy though! But they’re already here, and they do actually want to find Danny’s family, and… it’s just… been very nice and not stressful. The ghosts hadn’t been bothering Danny nearly as much back home, to the point where he felt pretty comfortable leaving it in Valerie’s capable hands, but this is the most relaxed he’s been in a while. It’s amazing what not living with people who would skin you semi-alive will do for mental health. 

They also realize they maybe need to like… make money. 

Good news is, when they switched dimensions, they automatically became able to speak Common. And, as a compensation for losing some of his other abilities, Danny can have omnilingualism. He also keeps his ice powers, mostly, and he’s pretty sure he kept his Ghostly Wail. 

There ARE reasons why he keeps the powers he does. In short, he’s still part ghost (or, part demon here, but words are just words and in this case, both just mean ‘realms being’), so turning invisible is fine. So is making things cold—and, as he’s also human and able to use magic, he can create ice like other mages do. He also has limited intangibility, but for reasons involving ‘I don’t recall any mages doing it’, he has more trouble with it than usual. As for the Ghostly Wail, its similar to the mandrake cry, and thus something that likely involves magic to do—as a veritable wellspring of magic, as he’s kinda sorta a dungeon master ruled by HIMSELF now, he has plenty to spare. Plus, banshee legends might still exist in Dungeon Meshi. As for the languages thing… it’s me throwing him a bone for taking away his ability to use lasers. I might let him overshadow people, but seeing as that just kills people in Dungeon Meshi, I might not. 

The two siblings begin taking odd jobs in town. The people think it’s a LITTLE odd that a Tallman (Jazz) and a Halffoot (HOBBIT, Danny) are siblings, but they usually just explain that they were both taken in by the same couple. If anyone even slightly insinuates it’s something else, the two both start gagging before they begin lecturing the gossiper. 

While Danny’s skills as an interpreter ARE extremely valuable, they find that with so many new people in this town that, apparently, JUST rose out of the gotdang sea, that there are many people looking for all sorts of odd things, and THAT is something Jazz is more suited for than translating, seeing as the only language that she knows from THIS world is Common. 

In short, she finds out about potions. You know, that thing mentioned like ONCE at the beginning of the Dungeon Meshi series and NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN (afaik). 

Ingredients are a liiiittle hard to come by in markets, but most of them just need magic to grow, right? And Danny can make magic ice that turns into magic water. 

Jazz starts a farm. When Danny starts taking home books and such to translate on a commission basis, mostly in order to avoid another close call about knowing ancient elvish languages that they may or may not be incredibly suspicious about him being able to know, he takes care of a lot of the gardening. 

It’s at this point that Danny finds out he can just take a mandrake that’s in a pot, dunk it in a barrel of water, and harvest that way. It’s still a bit LOUD, but it won’t harm or kill anyone. And, the water now has magic toxins or whatever, which could have uses of their own that Jazz is now experimenting with. 

So, basically, Jazz is out here doing the Dungeon Meshi Cooking Montages except its potions and it’s mildly terrifying. 

Danny is just glad that he’s ALSO legally a halffoot adult and can just go to town to a tavern whenever she’s being too weird. Good news: he can drink alcohol now! Bad news, sort of: it does nothing for him. I mean, go him for never getting drunk, but like, rude. 

Both Danny and Jazz are learning magic, mostly because Danny needs to offset some magic every now and again so it doesn’t build up (ie, his ice) and should at least look like he knows what he’s doing so he doesn’t get caught, and Jazz is learning so they can occasionally depend on her to claim that Danny’s magical whatever is actually HER doing. Plus, it helps with the potions. Most involve magical ingredients, so the maker doesn’t need to be a mage, but still. 

Danny gets a bit homesick about Sam and Tucker, so he makes a magic mirror in an afternoon and contacts them through one of Sam’s compact cases. It had some unique design she made on the back of it, so he’s able to hone in on it. Sam is EXTREMELY jealous that they’re living some kind of cottage witch fantasy, meanwhile Tucker is like ‘they have wHAT kind of meat? And you left me here?!’. 

Yeah. Tucker and Laois would get along, although Senshi would definitely have some words to say about his nutritional needs. 

SPEAKING OF the Dungeon Meshi characters. What, you think I wasn’t going to add them?

Falin likes to take walks through the area. As it so happens, the Nightingale House is about two hours of very casual strolling from the castle. She discovers them one day when she noticed Danny tending to the mandrake farm (there’s likely other magical plants, but I imagine Danny is wary of the more monster-like ones). 

Danny just can NOT keep her name in his head. He keeps calling her Bird Lady. Falin is not upset by this. She’s actually pretty glad to make somewhat friends with Danny and later Jazz, because they’re both pretty nonchalant about the feathers thing. Most are fine, but some are still… Off about her. Also they didn’t participate in the whole eating her thing, which she didn’t MIND but some people avoid her because they think she WOULD be upset. 

Falin is also glad to find that Danny can see ghosts like she can. She promised to keep his little magic secret, though she likely has no idea how powerful he actually IS, and she visits like twice a week. 

At some point, Itsuzumi claimed their front porch as one of her napping spots. Jazz thought they should maybe not have a cat girl sleeping on the doorstep. Danny agreed… by making a hammock. Jazz just accepted her fate and occasionally feeds her. That said, Itsuzumi doesn’t stay in one place as her ‘home’, so it’s a toss up if she’s there. Still, she somehow convinced the postmasters to only deliver mail to the Nightingales, seeing as they don’t mess with her letters and are out of the way enough that she has privacy when she does read them. If she’s there while it’s raining, she’ll take over the couch. 

Like, Itsuzumi doesn’t have keys to the house or anything, and Danny and Jazz are both a bit secretive, but that translates really well to respecting Itsuzumi’s privacy as long as she isn’t bringing huge problems to their doorstep. Danny did once offer to see about making up a guest room that was more or less hers—the house did need repairs, so some of the rooms weren’t quite habitable even if the house itself was fine to live in. Itsuzumi was not a fan of this, as I imagine her the type to not like feeling so tied down, but she did accept a compromise of having a closet space for her to store things. It’s where Danny and Jazz will put her letters when she DOES get them. 

Danny’s need to help people isn’t an obsession, but he IS quite fond of it, so as he does his work but also studies magic Just In Case, he finds a certain affinity for sensing magic, monsters, and breaking curses. The first one he broke was entirely by accident—the client had no idea that the book passages he gave to Danny were cursed. 

It worked out, it was fiiiine, stop worrying so much Jazz. 

While Danny certainly wasn’t advertising the curse breaking part, his previous client was told about it, and suddenly everyone knew that the Nightingales knew a little about curse breaking. They assume it’s Jazz, and Jazz has to learn on the fly how to break simple curses and protect herself until Danny can come actually work his literal magic. Jazz, oddly enough, is the one to figure out how to make protective charms. 

Also, she’s successfully made the first section of her water filtration system. 

Listen, they are very busy. But they’re hoping if they branch out enough, get a big enough system, they can find Danny’s parents. Because all they REALLY had to go on was One—They were halffoots, Two—Danny’s hair came from his mother, and Three—in both Jazz AND Danny’s cases, the Fentons kidnapped a twin. 

It’s this work as a cursebreaker and Jazz’s work as a near miracle worker at potions—her little mad scientist experiments were bearing fruit after all—that Falin brings Laios over to work with. Long story short, Danny’s general attitude about it is ‘fuck that lion guy’ because he recognizes the work of a ghost—er, demon—when he sees it. Sure, the Toudens don’t TELL Danny it was a winged lion, saying after a really long pause that the cursers name was Leo or whatever. But Danny isn’t completely stupid, especially not about something he can PLAINLY see. 

Also, a good note here is that neither Jazz nor Danny have ANY idea who Laios is. Sure, they’d HEARD of the King, but either Danny gave him a nickname, they think Laios is one of those cases where there’s an uptick of people named after a famous person, or it’s just a super common name. Or, heck, it’s entirely possible that Laios has a king monicker and that’s ALL that Jazz and Danny have heard, and they don’t know that the king’s name is Laios. 

Anyways, Danny is like ‘you have two curses from your frankly very petty curser’. And they’re like ‘yeah we know’. 

For the monster repellent curse, Falin points out (possibly on her own but also possibly remembering something Kabru said once) that it’s a pretty useful curse, but that it upsets Laios to have on him. So, Danny thinks ‘What Would Sam Do’ and makes a creepy doll. The idea is to attach the curse to the doll, but for various reasons involving having the curse NEED an amount of magic to stay going, it needs to be, well… fed. As you MIGHT recall from Dungeon Meshi, blood is pretty potent as a magic tool. 

So, anyways, blood sacrifice for the repellent doll curse, preferably either by Laios or someone of his blood. I’m sure this won’t become a plot point for a b rated adventure story several generations later where they need to find the One True Heir to help save the kingdom or whatever. 

As for the hunger curse, it’s a pretty tricky one. Most curses, Danny can kind of just. Push it out using his own magic, or trick it into thinking its done whatever the curse maker wanted it to do. But this curse is very ingrained, as hunger is something very basic to literally everyone, and it’s goal is basically ‘then SUFFER’ and that’s hard to make it understand when Laios is, technically, already and constantly suffering from it. 

So, it needs to be magically purged. Starve out the magic in Laios’s body, starve out the curse. Issue being that it’s EXCEPTIONALLY hard to do that when magic is LITERALLY in the air. 

With a bit of thinking, Danny comes up with a solution, and tells them to set up their creepy doll shrine and see him in three days. Also maybe haggles the price because while he DOES have a way to do this, it’s a bit risky to not only Laios but to the makers of Danny’s curse-breaking method. 

Danny contacts Sam, who contacts Frostbite, who is VERY against this but ultimately agrees so long as Danny is careful. Danny technically has Jazz do most of the next part, so he’s being cautious. 

The Toudens come back, with Laios happily chattering about a small monster he noticed just before they got to the Nightingales—good to know what the range of that is then, though it may have become smaller with the smaller vessel and the lesser amount of regenerating magic supplying it. I’m not looking up the one panel that sorta shows how big the field is right now. 

Danny is like, bundled up and covering his mouth, while Jazz is very careful with the prepared potions. 

Blood blossoms. Basically anti magic, which do not grow in this world naturally and should never do so, and involved Sam needing to travel back in time to grab a few. They explain their caution as Danny being extremely allergic to one of the ingredients and the effects of the potions being dangerous to mages in general by DESIGN. 

In short, Laios has to take these potions for three days—one bottle for each day—and to light a candle anointed with the potion in the forth bottle in a closed space he needs to stay in for the duration and at least an extra two days. There’s also a fifth bottle that he needs to sprinkle into any food or drink he has for that time until after the fifth day. Remember, magic is everywhere in Dungeon Meshi. This is basically him going into a sterile bubble field for a while, but also needing to include sterilizing the things he eats and drinks as well. 

“Don’t keep even a drop,” Danny warns them both very, very seriously. “This stuff shouldn’t exist here, but that is one NASTY curse you’ve got. Anything you’ve got leftover, including the bottles, bring back here.” 

He also tells them that its possible that Laios might never regain magical ability he had previous, or if he DID he had to relearn it. Laios accepts this risk. He wasn’t much for magic anyways. Danny also tells him to maybe make sure the room(s) he uses isn’t his usual bedroom, and again that he needs to stay in them as MUCH AS POSSIBLE, preferably not leaving at ALL, until after his treatment. 

They take his warnings seriously, at least, and they head off, carefully with the contents they just got. 

They actually do as instructed! Kabru did manage to take a drop, though, just to see what would happen. Holm’s undine DISSOLVED is what happened. Kabru did not take any more risks about that because WHAT the hell, WHAT. Laios and Falin also won’t tell him WHERE THEY GOT THIS FROM. At least, not until after they finish the treatment and see if it works. 

It does work though! He gets his normal hunger cues back after a couple of weeks, and Falin happily tells the Nightingales that it worked. Great! Never tell anyone what they did. Also give back the bottles please and thanks (handed off to Sam very carefully—although blood blossoms ARE a magic-and-ecto disruptor, they can be put through portals, such as the mirror phone things that technically also act as portals). 

A little late for total secrecy, but no one that the Toudens didn’t already trust with the numerous secrets they already had, including but not limited to Marcille’s fun necromancy habit. 

… Listen, I know that the curses Laios gets are like, consequences or something, but I didn’t like the hunger curse because of my own traumas and didn’t like the monster avoidance curse cause that just seemed cruel. Which I get was the point but I have OPINIONS on the whole thing, and it ultimately equals up to “Laios didn’t ask for this, and I’m not sure he’s actually happy in the end”. Anyways. 

Because they literally helped heal the king, Laios does invite them over to dinner in the castle. 

“That guy was a KING?!” Danny shouts. 

Jazz is just like. Yeah that fucking tracks. But hey we can ask his help about the parentage thing! 

So, now they’re going to dinner. That’s fun! Maybe! 

Side note, Jazz has now invented showers and indoor baths. She’s still working on a heating and cooling mechanism but at least all the water is clean. She’s still working on getting faucets for sinks, such as in the kitchen. 

Don’t ask how they have time for this, by the way. The gardening, their actual jobs of potion making and translations, Jazz’s plumbing project, Danny’s (and slightly Jazz’s) magic training, and the biological family search. To be fair, they probably have very few leads on that last one, so extending their social net is kind of their only plan. 

They get dressed up fairly nicely and go to the king’s castle for dinner because apparently Danny just cannot stop impressing royalty both dead AND ALIVE as it turns out. 

There, they meet the whole Touden party. Itsuzumi is there. Both parties are very surprised, but good to know, but also what. W h a t. 

Senshi likes hearing about how similar potion making and cooking is, and he and Jazz seem to be getting along pretty well! Chilchuck, meanwhile, is like. Why does this kid—sorry, young halffoot adult—look so gotdang familiar. Regardless, he offers to help teach him a few things about halffoot culture, seeing as Danny was apparently raised as a Tallman. 

“Yeah, we didn’t even know about other races! We just thought Danny was a little weird,” Jazz said. 

“That must have been really isolated,” Marcille replied. 

Oh, she didn’t even know the half of it. 

Of course, someone questions how Danny was so good with languages if their ‘isolated little village’ never said that any race other than Tallmen existed, to which Danny just kind of says he had a knack for it and was bored, so. Languages. They kind of just start following patterns after a certain point. And he and Jazz HAD been traveling for a while. 

Dinner goes well, with just one odd report about scratching in one of the mirror halls by the guards that Danny juuuust manages to hear before he and Jazz go out the doors. 

That’s probably nothing! 

A bit more time passes, with Senshi visiting Jazz and helping her learn ACTUAL cooking in exchange for those sweet sweet mandrakes and the water harvesting method while Danny gets lessons from Chilchuck and, ironically, another halffoot named Dandan about Halffoot culture. Luckily, Danny just so happened to know the halffoot language equivalent of Common, but they teach him a bit more about the language anyways. 

This is also when he learns that Halffoots tend to have twins, but also that it’s not terribly uncommon for one of the twins to die. Happened to both Dandan’s ex wife and to Chilchuck and also so, so many other halffoots. That just made Danny’s search even harder. Yikes. 

By week two, Danny is very tired of CONSTANTLY hearing the term halffoot, and so has requested Tucker get him a copy of the Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy to send through mirror-mail so that Danny can then translate THAT into Common and go publish. Maybe if he has a book or two to sell, he can make a passive income so he can concentrate on things other than translating YET ANOTHER tax form because the local government all wants Common—understandable—but not everyone can READ Common. 

This may be a time to give Danny a misadventure with some orcs that paint him as a fucking weirdo but ultimately friendly. 

Jazz gets the idea that hey, if the whole halffoots have lots of twins thing is true,  meaning that she and Danny are going to have a TIME of it trying to find HIS parents, maybe she and Danny should invent, like genetic testing with magic and or potions or whatever. It’s not like they don’t have an understanding of genetics, if what Kabru’s (adopted) mother teaches him is any indicator, but genetic testing it relatively modern by our own standards. 

So they start developing that. Falin still visits, mentioning how there seems to be a scratching that just won’t stop in the castle, but its always in the same hall of mirrors so at least its localized. Just, really weird. Everyone else thinks its ghosts, but Falin has checked so many times now and there just isn’t one. But Laios is doing fine, he’s very thankful, and Danny is like hahaha don’t mention it! No really, don’t! You already paid me! We had dinner! We’re friends now! Ahaha!

Should it be the case that Halffoots (-HOBBITS!) have tails, Chilchuck still has his, though it’s a liiiittle shorter than it should be, and he’s the sort thats proud about how long his wife and daughters’ tails are. He’s reconnecting with his family! Slowly but surely! In case you CAN’T tell, I actually like happy endings here. Despite the everything else I put in a story, ha. Anyways, as such, he’s a little offput by Danny’s parents since Danny admitted that they’re the ones who cut it off of him, and that even then they never told Danny that he wasn’t a Tallman despite having to have had at LEAST a clue that he wasn’t one. Shouldn’t the orphanage or however they got their kids from know? Don’t tell him that both Jazz AND Danny were just left on their doorsteps. 

“Definitely not that one, aha…” Danny quickly changes the topic. “So I wrote this story—or, well, its like this story that was SUPER popular where we’re from—“

Chilchuck also explains how Danny’s name is just SO weird to most of the other halffoots. Like, it’s not OUT there, per se, but definitely reads as Tallman. Even admitting its fully Daniel does not help. This is also when Chilchuck explains that part of the infant mortality rate, halffoots don’t get their names until their fourth month of life. 

Jazz made some liberties and changes to the Hobbit to fit in a little better with Dungeon Meshi and it’s whole world, but otherwise it’s mostly the same story. Chilchuck and Dandan get free copies as they’re helping Danny so much, especially with getting Danny used to other people like him (mostly). They’re both pretty impressed with it, though Danny insists that it wasn’t exactly his own writing. But, hey, the actual author was dead and he doubts any copies are going to come from his old hometown any time soon so like, might as well! 

Also, copyright law is probably far different in Dungeon Meshi than here, ha. I declare it—legally in the clear! 

Danny has a mission with this and that’s getting people to use the word Hobbit dammit! 

Surprisingly, despite not showing up in it, the gnomish community quite like it. And so do dwarves, and elves, and halffoots, and it becomes pretty popular. 

It’s The Hobbit. This is not an unexpected result. Thank you Chilchuck for helping with the printing rights and contracts for getting the book published. (And we can guess that the printing press DOES exist in Dungeon Meshi, since we can see the books they have—though there may be other obstacles about getting your hands on a book, we can see by the amount they have and how gimmicky Laios’ monster book is that printing a book itself is likely a done and solved issue in some way or another). 

Danny is extremely glad he did not put his own name as the pen name for that mess. 

While all that drama is happening, including the fact that Chilchuck’s wife—I have named her Brightmerry—is now a very avid fan and would love to meet Danny, Danny and Jazz have just about perfected their genetics test. Laios and Falin know about the test, although not WHY they’re doing it. Despite some concerns that the magic and chimeraism that probably STILL affects both, though Laios’s maybe got purged during the magic curse breaking thing, it certainly was unpleasant enough for him that he’d BELIEVE that he got part of him ripped out, they still seem to test just fine as siblings. Still, they need more tests. 

But it’s not like they know an entire family, do they? 

Danny complains about this issue to Dandan, in part to see if Dandan knew anyone that MIGHT be willing to help. 

As it so happens, Dandan volunteers Chilchuck. Chilchuck only agrees to drag his family into it because he generally trusts Danny and Jazz even if they ARE kind of weird and make incidental inventions at their house that they should REALLY sell, because WHAT do you MEAN you have a hot water shower?! He also knows that both Brightmerry and Fullertom would like to meet Danny because of the book he totally did not steal from another dimension to make a profit. Might as well drag the rest. Plus, they assure that the test itself won’t hurt, and will even demonstrate with themselves and with the Toudens what a false and what a positive result will look like. 

So, they arrange a date to do so at the castle. Kabru is pretty interested in the experiment, truthfully, because it seems neat! Not at all because of his own issues with his hometown involving his eye color! Why do you ask! 

Off they go, and the best space to do this in due to some preparation and magic circle nonsense is the same room Laios did his whole magic purge, which was the mirror hall. It’s small but open, with no windows except for a small one in an attached restroom area. Sure, there’s some creepy scratching going on from time to time, but no one has gotten hurt or recorded anything else odd. 

The magic genetics test involves having the participants positioned equally around a magic circle in little circles of their own, having a small cup of a potion that gives off a lot of steam or vapor—entirely harmless-, and pricking a drop of blood into the potion. What happens with a positive is that the vapor takes on a color and follows a trail through the magic circle, and the colors and how strong the connection between the vapor trails between two people tell how related they are. In a negative or, when two parents are in the circle, the vapor trails will not have ‘matching’ or similar colors, and the trails will not actually meet up with each other. 

It’s still a work in progress, but it should tell at least siblings. Luckily, Chilchuck did manage to get all three of his daughters and his wife along, with Dandan being invited as another variable to test with. 

Danny and Jazz go first, showing how their trails don’t meet up. And there’s not a particular meaning to what color a vapor trail is to a person—it can change and vary for each test, it’s only consistent when it’s a ‘positive’. 

Than Laios and Falin. Fittingly enough, their trails are fairly strong, with just a few different trails fraying off, and slightly different shades of green-ish yellow coming from their potion cups. 

The Chilchuck Family then take a turn, and they can observe the trails. Sure enough, Chilchuck and Brightmerry don’t have any connection, but seem to match and meet with each of their daughters’ trails, who also connect to each other in a web of vapor. They decide that maybe more than three is hard to read. 

They agree to do a couple of combinations and tests, which Jazz and Danny are like ‘sorry for all the finger pricks!’ But they DID bring a bunch of sterilized needles at least. And Falin is happy to heal them in the meantime—using the space as an anti magic purge room seems to not have left an affect on the magic now in the space. 

Dandan joins a few times so they can record how he doesn’t match at all. Laios then mentions why Danny isn’t doing that when they explain he’s adopted and therefore for all he knows, he’s distantly related. 

Which prompts them to have him test with Dandan and Chilchuck. 

He doesn’t match Dandan. 

But he does match Chilchuck. 

This does not change when he repeats the experiment. 

They then switch out Chilchuck for Brightmerry. 

… And he matches to Brightmerry. 

SEVERAL different trials later involving all the halffoots there confirms it. 

Somehow. Someway. 

He is Chilchuck and Brightmerry’s child. 

Are you surprised? Probably not that was a twist coming a mile away not going to lie. 

Anyways, the story THEY give is that he’s Puckpatti’s twin. They’d been napping outside while with one of Chilchuck’s brothers, when something or another distracted said brother for, at most, two minutes. But then Puckpatti’s twin was gone. He was stolen, although they hadn’t actually KNOWN what had happened, when he was three months. It’s why Puckpatti’s name was, well. Puckpatti. Puck was supposed to be her twin’s name, and they considering having her be Pattipuck, but Puckpatti worked better. It wasn’t particularly odd for twins where only one survived to carry the other twin’s name as either their first or second name. This is also why her usually nickname is Patti instead of Puck. 

Danny and Jazz explain that… yeah, they were taken in. As in kidnapped. Hadn’t wanted the pity points but saying they were adopted felt kiiiiinda wrong. 

Now, this would be a very touching family reunion scene. 

Except now that mirror scratching has started up. 

And its loud. 

And—Oh would you look at that. 

Mirror portal. 

Can you guess who pop through? 

It’s the Fentons! Say Hello to Jack and Maddie. 

It’s a whole confrontation scene, which BASICALLY goes with Maddie and Jack absolutely NOT realizing anything they did wrong, insisting they SAVED Danny, that there were two and it was fine, and BESIDES, JAZZ wanted a little sibling and when ASKED she asked for a brother, so really, its her fault. 

Jazz gets a guilt complex! Chilchuck tells the Fentons that thats NOT HOW THIS SITUATION WORKED, SHE WAS TWO! 

Jazz also has a horrifying memory of when she was four and Danny was two, and asking if they’d like a younger sibling, and that they’d have to agree, but Jazz said yes and Danny said NO and was this why there were only two of them?!?

Danny disowns them, pointedly saying that cutting off a baby’s tail is kind of MESSED UP DON’T YOU THINK.  And they go, well if you’re going to be ungrateful—and he gets like, hella hurt. 

More arguing and fighting, and Danny just kind of lays there and lets himself heal before propping himself back up like. Did. Did you think that would work. You have a magic science workshop that I regularly cleaned did you NOT THINk. THAT WOULD NOT HAVE AN AFFECT. 

The Fentons go ‘oh, he’s a ghost’ and disown him right back, though not in so many words. Whichever members of the Dungeon Meshi group you imagine are there right now take it as ‘he’s a MAGE?!’ 

Danny tricks the Fentons back through the mirror portal and shatter it. From what he guesses, the magic purging done to Laios let there be a slight thinning in the natural magical-ecto-whatever barrier that protected this world from another one. The Fentons didn’t know where the kids went, but might have figured out they went to another world, but couldn’t locate the notes to locate the Dungeon Meshi world. So, instead, they tracked Danny and Jazz themselves. With all the blood testing Danny did in the same room with a thinning veil, that meant they were finally able to break through by using him as an ‘anchor’ to follow through the mirrors. 

Universal constants, remember? Both magic mirrors AND portals are things in both worlds. 

Danny takes this time to go ‘well, they already know anyways’, and uses the opportunity and also all his blood now on the floor to make some quick magic barrier things with Jazz’s help. She’s better at protection sigils, after all, but he’s the more magically powerful. Together, they sort of ‘lock’ the dungeon meshi world. Or, more accurately, they lock out a certain scientific couple. And, because three is a stronger number for magic, they also block out Vlad. Three birds, one stone. 

THEN Danny passes out, you know, like a champion. 

Once awake and reunited with everyone, things begin to simmer down. Sure, Danny was just exposed as a powerful mage to the King, but the king is just like ‘Eh, won’t mention it, I don’t know anything I’m barely sure how I became king most days and I was THERE’. Marcille probably finds out, either because she was there or she’s just really good at finding out things she absolutely should not, also possible interest from a long time over Jazz and Danny and their whole deal. But she’s also just like NEAT. Translate these texts for me and we’re even. 

Danny is not convinced about her smile but goes with it regardless. 

Chilchuck and family are cautiously open to Danny. Of course they’re glad to have him home, but also—he’s lived his entire life ELSEWHERE, so while Chilchuck knows the most about him, he’s still a stranger. 

A few cute fluffy bits about learning about his siblings and his mother and father. Notably—Chilchuck is APPALLED that any child of his doesn’t know how to properly lock pick. Even Fullertom, the MOST disinterested in his line of work, is well aware of how to do it. Brightmerry is fond of reading, and Danny has lots of stories she’s never heard of going through his head. He insists they’re just local stories he’s heard of here and there, but she’s like. Suspicious of it. Not enough to cause him to stop telling her them, though. He also learns of the interests of his sisters, and is also like WHAT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M STILL THE BABY. 

The three girls are also fond of Jazz, surprisingly enough. Like, I’d hardly call them besties, but they get along pretty well. Especially when teasing Danny. Jazz tells them of the occasions she’d dress Danny up as a princess when they were little, and next thing Chilchuck knows, he’s walking in to see his son—not resisting being dolled up, because he loves his sisters already, but also very clearly hoping for an out. 

“Have fun,” he says and leaves immediately before his daughters can drag him into it too. 

Jazz has completed her indoor plumbing project! They no longer have a latrine and cesspit! They have proper toilets AND a filtration system for both incoming AND outgoing water, and along the way she’s made a waterwheel for electricity to power the filtration system AND the heating and cooling systems. They’re ALMOST modern at the Nightingale house! 

From here, things are a bit more loose. 

Danny makes gifts for his family for some kind of festive holiday. For Chilchuck, he gets a wood carving for the night each of his children were born, as well as his own birthday and Brightmerry’s. Since Meijack and Fullertom are twins, as are Puckpatti and Danny, this means four carvings. Each carving is technically a thin piece of darkly painted wood with holes drilled through, but when a light is shined onto the correct side, such as a candle or Jazz’s next project involving lightbulbs, it projects out the night sky. 

Danny consulted a LOT of astrological charts for this thing, but due to how close their dimensions are, the stars were mostly the same between the two. It’s not a universal constant, but the closer two dimensions are, the more similarities there are. 

After all, the Fentons were trying to slip BETWEEN dimensions, which is kind of like sewing but only going through to BETWEEN two pieces of fabric, even if the fabrics are already rubbing against each other. In other words, precision was needed, and there was no point in aiming for a FAR dimension for this, that was more likely to end in failure. 

An alternate for Chilchuck is that Danny finds alcohol in the Infinite Realms to give him, if you want Danny to have more free access to the Realms. Just warns him to only drink it if he WANTS to be completely sloshed, and to maybe not do that at home, haha. 

Anyways, for Brightmerry, he gives her not the next one, but the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, translated and edited for the Dungeon Meshi world. He assures his father they’ll get a copy for print later, but this was the first edition and it was for Brightmerry. 

Meijack got an armband for easily hold and quick access to her most common picklock tools. Kind of like a bracer or that sliding blade thing from Assassins Creed. 

Fullertom, Danny gave her a bunch of blue ribbons and accessories. Jazz had to point out for him that this meant he was supportive of her desire for marriage—Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Usually a tradition reserved for the marriage, but anyways. 

As for Puckpatti, he makes her a magic compass. No matter where she is, she can always ask her to point it where she wants to go. North, South, the next town, home, to a specific person, so on. The first thing she has it point to is to Danny. It’s a much more touching moment than I am capable of writing right this second. 

Uhhhh a plot point I hadn’t integrated yet was that Danny absolutely cannot cook with meat. It was started in the ‘they met during canon dungeon adventure times’ but I hadn’t translated it fully yet. Basically, when Danny tries to cook with meat, it comes alive—like the turkey or the hot dogs in canon, and SOMEWHAT like the familiars do. Of course, it’d be really weird to be able to do that without even trying, and possibly mildly illegal, so they just have Danny not cook meat. Then a draft came to be where Danny was like ‘fine I’ll just SHOW YOU’ to Senshi, and if it was in the dungeon, then he’d use them against a monster, and if it was during post canon, it’d be against his parents. Then the point of WHY all or most of them were together during the Fenton’s break in changed from the dinner party to the genetics test, and there was no reason for Danny to have been cooking. 

Danny finds and introduces Fullertom to a dwarf that she starts dating. Chilchuck isn’t sure if he should be concerned or impressed with the portfolio Danny pulls out when Chilchuck asks about the dwarf and what Danny knows about him. 

Another plot point for why Jazz and Danny were staying so long, outside of finding Danny’s birth family since we have now figured out he WAS developing normally and the whole portal thing was just sorta because of how tricky that power is, is that Princess Dora wanted Danny to find a good host for the Necklace of Aragon so that her brother could no longer claim it. It would, predictably, eventually go to Laios. Also, I am starting to realize I am more partial to Laios than the other characters, whoops. Anyways, I hadn’t figured out if I could or even SHOULD integrate that into the plot. 

Payment for the blood blossoms were going to include five of Fallin’s feathers. They’re magically powerful, and three of them were going to be used for each name that was ‘blocked’ from the Dungeon Meshi world. So one feather for Jack, one for Maddie, and one for Vlad. I haven’t decided if I’d keep that or not, but I also wasn’t sure what to do with the other two feathers, and just asking for three and that HAPPENS to work out, the number being considered magic aside, felt a bit off and too convenient. 

Danny would eventually take on a new name in honor of his birth family. Danbright Chils. Dan is him, obviously, and since he’d be taking Chils for Chilchuck, he decided to take Bright for Brightmerry. (I actually debated between Bright or Bridge. So either Brightmerry and Danbright or Bridgemerry and Danbridge. This is directly because of Danny’s ‘be the bridge’ thing.)

Things are just starting to settle… 

Then, Sidney of all people shows up in Danny’s magic communication mirror. And we get information that due to Jazz and Danny’s mild meddling with the magic-ecto-whatever barriers, that Jazz’s twin has become aware of the fact she once had a twin—basically, Inspector Gordon kind of ‘felt reminded of [Jazz]’ and told Barbara about it. And since Barbara is part of the superheroes club, she was able to find out that not only was her twin alive, but in an entirely different dimension entirely. 

Annnnd that’s all I got. 

It’s a lot! Don’t expect me to publish it! Have a nice day! 

[ellecdc]

I’ve been thinking about a Remus (or ig any ship that includes him?) x metamorphmagus!reader who is always turning into other people in order to mess with people. despite them being very good at acting and visually/audibly indistinguishable from their target, once the moon comes close and his senses are heightened Remus is able to recognize them from scent alone. I also think he’s observant enough that even when his senses are as normal as they can be, he is able to notice little ticks and habits that break through the disguise. I don’t think he would ruin their fun, observing and if he isn’t in pain even helping with their mischief.

It’s just such a cute little concept to me, and I think it could be fun to play with, so I would love to see if you can come up with a little Drabble or something about it! Thank you mother ❤️ I love confident and mischievous readers with quiet but enabling characters

this was a cute concept! thanks for the request! also, I didn't intend for this to be Potter!reader, but with the way the story went it ended up feeling like it had to be potter reader hahaha

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader who is a metamorphmagus [800 words]

CW: fem!reader, 'your mama' insults, talking about students getting it on in a broom closet

“Never thought I’d find myself happier to see this Black than the other one.” Barty Crouch Junior drawled as he sauntered into the library looking innocent for all intents and purposes - but Remus knew better.

“Sod off, Junior.” Sirius sneered back as he glared at the Slytherin from behind his book. 

“Oh, someone’s getting off, I can assure you.” He jeered; a mischievous sparkle shining in his eye giving Remus not nearly enough time to prepare for the coming theatrics. 

“Oh? Could you hear me and your mum last night?” Sirius replied haughtily, turning a page of his book for show. “I’ll try to make sure we’re quieter next time, but she’s a screamer.” 

Barty simply hummed as he dragged a finger across the back of a chair; expression glowing like he was simply loving this. “Are family members not off limits then, Black? Because if that’s the case, someone really ought to tell Reg and Potter that there's no need to be rutting against each other in the third floor broom closet like a couple of ne’er-do-wells.”

Sirius was standing in record time; his chair grating across the floors before landing with a thunk and his book (prop) laying long forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” Sirius spat menacingly, a true testament to how riled up he got over his brother and best friend (even though the two had been publicly dating for almost two months now) that he didn’t even bother censoring himself against the verb form of his name.

“Deadly.” Barty smirked, and that was all it took for Sirius to go racing off into the castle to cause a bigger scene than either Regulus or James had been prior to the announcement of their secret tryst. 

The library returned to its prior volume as Remus watched 'Barty' simply stare after the last place Sirius could be seen. 

“That’s not nice, dove.” Remus chided gently, though he didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he stared back down at his book.

“Whatever do you mean, Lupin?” You sneered back, but you were wearing a beaming smile that told him clearly you knew the ruse was up. 

“James has been trying very hard to make sure he isn’t throwing his relationship with Regulus in Sirius’ face.” Remus explained tiredly, though it was all for show. 

“And James has been making it very hard for me to not want to stab myself with a quill during quidditch practices.” You pouted as you took the seat across from him.

“All this over quidditch drills?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You didn’t break his gaze nor the pout of your lips as you added “and he ate the last of my fizzing whizzbees.” 

Remus hummed in understanding. “An egregious crime, certainly.”

“Right? What would you have done if he’d eaten all your chocolate?”

“Nothing short of murder; he’d be out the dormitory window.”

“See, I knew you’d get it.” You replied with a smirk, though your eyes turned soft as you looked him over.

“Be nice to your brother.” He murmured quietly, earning a dramatic groan as you threw your head back in exasperation.

“I don’t have to be nice to him, he’s my brother.” 

“What would your mum say?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair and held his book against his lips to hide the smile on his face.

You groaned again and looked over at him nonplussed. “To be nice to my brother.” You offered back in monotone.

He lowered his book so you could see his beaming smile, causing you to launch forward in an attempt to swipe his book from him only for him to catch your wrist instead.

“How did you even know it was me? I thought I had the impression down pat.” You murmured quietly, face now inches from his.

“You certainly look like Junior.” Remus conceded as he gave you a once over. “But he would have never let that comment about his mum fly.”

You let out a bark of laughter that Remus knew to be only yours. “That’s true, I suppose. I’ll do better next time.”

Remus gave you a shake of his head in faux admonishment as he leaned closer to you. “I’ll always recognise my sweet girl.” He murmured, massaging the inside of your wrist that he was holding captive with his thumb. “I’d recognise you by smell alone.” 

Your gaze turned hungry as your eyes flit down to his lips and then back up again. 

But Remus pulled away before you could connect your lips to his.

“Do not kiss me as Barty Crouch Junior.” He deadpanned, causing you to let out raucous laughter that got you more than a few shush’s from surrounding tables before he watched you melt back into yourself.

Remus loved your mischief, but this was by far his favourite version of you.

[dekariosclan]

How do you think an early romance/ pre relationship Gale would handle a weary-but-stubborn-Tav during the adventure? Like if Tav was overworked from trying to take care of everyone and lead the party and/or got sick?

Between this and the last caretaking ask my heart is full, my crops are watered etc, etc. 💜💜 Thank you Anon!

First off, unlike the last scenario, this is more serious than ‘just a cold.’ So I believe Gale would act accordingly, and be more serious about it himself (though he will still occasionally make puns/quips! That’s how he is. Remember, even when a romanced Resist!Durge has their full murderous struggle with him, he’s handling it calmly while saying things like: “Sweet that you care enough to murder me. Mind if you don’t?”)

Second, this is pre-relationship. The familiarity and ease of small intimacies like feeling Tav’s forehead, or sternly ordering them to bed, would not be appropriate yet. There’s also the tension Gale would feel about overstepping boundaries and, Gods forbid, making Tav angry at him and/or want to distance themselves, just when they were starting to get close. Since you mentioned ‘early romance’ we’ll assume that this scenario occurs after the Weave scene. And yes, even though Tav beamed the fact that they want to kiss/hold hands with Gale directly into his brain, he still needs reassurance that Tav likes him as much as he likes Tav.

So, whereas other companions would see Tav’s exhaustion and be blunt about their advice—for example, Karlach pointing at Tav’s tent and yelling “SOLDIER, you need to get YOUR ASS. TO BED. NOW.” Gale would be gently, sweetly cautious—especially when he saw how stubbornly Tav refused.

He might approach Tav sitting by the fire that evening, long after everyone else had turned in, each having given up on telling Tav they don’t need to keep watch. Gale would hold his tongue and refrain from commenting on how obvious it was that Tav was struggling to stay awake, and instead gently inquire if he might join them. And when Tav suspiciously asked if he, too, was going to tell them to go bed, Gale’s reply would be a hearty, “No, no, certainly not! I merely wished to discuss some battle tactics with you. May I?”

Tav’s tired nod would be all Gale needed. “Excellent!” He’d settle in next to Tav—close, but not too close, not touching shoulders, no matter how much he would have liked to—and pull out some ancient-looking tome. “This book is a favourite of mine—it’s bound to impress you. If it doesn’t, well then—I only have my shelf to blame,” He’d chuckle, before adding: “I’ve selected several passages on strategy that I’d like to read to you and get your thoughts on.” Then he’d scratch his chin, thoughtfully. “They are rather lengthy, so I was hoping I could, ah, make our accommodations a bit more comfortable?”

Again, Tav would tiredly acquiesce, and then Gale would be conjuring a plush two-seater for them to share, and wisely not say a peep when he saw how Tav leaned back into the cushions, eyes shutting for just a moment…

“Now then,” Gale would say, his silken voice taking on a softer, soothing tone. “Let us begin…”

It wouldn’t take long, of course. Halfway through the first passage he’d glance over to see Tav’s eyes closed more often than not, their breathing becoming steady and relaxed. Then he’d smile to himself and return to reading, satisfied his plan was working—

—only to be jolted by the sudden, soft weight of a sleeping Tav sliding into his side, their head naturally coming to a rest on his shoulder. He’d glance down at them, deep in peaceful slumber, snuggled into him as if they belonged there, and his heart would throb painfully for a second, the sensation traveling through his chest where the orb was embedded…

Of course, he would complete his plan of getting Tav comfortably settled before quietly making his way back to his own tent. That was what he’d set out to do, he’d remind himself, as he tilted his head until it rested on Tav’s, and by the Gods he intended to do it, he’d think, as inhaled Tav’s scent, closing his eyes and nuzzling the top of their head…

…in just a moment.

[nina-ya]

Hello hello nina-chwan! I have this idea that I would love to read from you if it’s interesting enough? It’s about the female crush or s/o (either way is fine🤗) of law and/or marco, and whoever you want to add, who has really long hair (it reaches past her hips/butt) but she always has it in an updo.

So I’d like to know how it will go when they see it down for the first time while she was taking care of it one day. I’m trying to grow my hair out and have always wanted to have it super long so… one piece men + long hair hyperfixation got me wondering ig? 😅

I’m sorry I’m being so awkward but thanks in advance lovely 😅🧡

A/N: HIIII I got to write for the sexy doctors omgggg I also added Zoro too cause why not THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I HOPE YOU ENJOYYY Pairings: Law x Reader, Marco x Reader, Zoro x Reader (separately) CW: None for Law and Marcos parts. References to sex and hair pulling in Zoros part. WC: 982

Law had not intended to intrude on your privacy, but as fate would have it, he found himself needing something from you soon after you had stepped out of the shower. The encounter gave him a view he had not witnessed before- your hair down, still glistening from the shower.

You were absorbed in the act of brushing out your hair when Law entered. The room smelled of your shampoo, and the sight of you taking care of your hair captivated him. Law couldn’t help but stare. He took in the soft scene unfolding before him, and it only fueled his growing infatuation for you.

You caught movement in the corner of your eyes, and turned to see Law. Surprise filled your features as you took in the sight of him leaning against the doorway with a small smirk on his face. “Didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. Your face heated up, and before you got a chance to chastise him, he spoke up again, catching you off guard. “Your hair down suits you.” It was a simple statement, but it was enough to make you stumble over your words.

“Haha, thanks… I, uh...” you started, trailing off as you failed to find the words to respond. Law's gaze lingered onto you as he stepped towards you, stopping just by your side. He didn’t say anything at first; rather he just reached out to lightly touch your hair. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling, and you watched as he twirled the damp lock of hair in his fingers for a moment. 

A small smile played on his lips as he continued, “You know, you should wear it down more often.” His words left you in a flustered gratitude.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Um, did you need something?” you asked, changing the subject.

He looked at you and an air of realization crossed him that he indeed did come to you initially for a purpose, but it seemed inconsequential now, “I did, but that's not important anymore.” He dropped the piece of hair he was holding and took a step back and looked at you with a smirk as he said, “what’s important now is that you have to start showing me this more often, okay?” 

---

Marco had known your hair was long, judging by the intricacies of the hair styles you usually held it up in, but he did not know just how long your hair was. At least until he stumbled across you sitting on the edge of your bed, in the process of tying it up to protect it from what the day may hold. 

There you were, your hair falling down your sides, reflecting the light that shone through the window. Parting your hair and preparing to put it up, you looked up and saw Marcos' expression, sensing something was off. You spoke up, “What's wrong?” dropping your hands to your sides as you let go of your hair, opting to pay attention to him instead.

Marco snapped out of his trance and walked up to you as he responded, “Oh it’s nothing.” He took a seat on the bed next to you as he continued, “You just caught me off guard," he reached out and ran his hand through your hair as he continued, “I knew your hair was long, I guess I just never realized how long it was.”

A smile spread across your lips as you felt his fingers run through your hair. “Surprise” you teased. Marco chuckled, his free hand finding its way to yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I like it,” Marco said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “But then again, I like everything about you.” He stopped running his fingers through your hair, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Leave it down for a bit,” he suggested, his eyes lingering on your hair.

“Why?” you asked.

He simply responded with, “I just want to admire the view.” 

---

Zoro had stumbled into your room unexpectedly, his horrific sense of direction failing him once again. As he entered, he noticed you sitting by a mirror untangling your hair. Without much of a reaction, Zoro glanced in your direction and muttered a nonchalant, “This isn’t the men's quarters,” 

You looked at him in slight surprise at the abrupt entrance and rolled his eyes at the comment. “Zoro, how the hell did you get lost on the ship? It's not even that big,” you asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He grunted in acknowledgement, eyes glancing around the room before he decided to settle on your bed. You continued detangling your hair as Zoro struck up a conversation with you. He leaned against the headboard, seemingly absorbed in the conversation. Every now and then, his gaze would linger on you a moment more than usual, his expression suggesting that the conversation was not the only thing he had on his mind. But you never noticed, as you were too caught up in your own actions. 

Soon, he left the room, seemingly unbothered by the new sight of seeing your hair down, but you would soon realize that he was thinking long and hard about it. Ever since that moment, his hands always found a place in your hair. Fingers delicately threading through the strands to lull you to sleep. Gripping firmly to angle your head, seeking better access to plant kisses and bites along the length of your neck. His touch became purposeful– pulling it away from your face into a makeshift ponytail to reveal your teary-eyed expression as you worked to please him with your mouth. Intertwining and tugging hard as he is buried deep within you coaxing the sweetest moans from your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you should have let your hair down sooner.

[euphor1a]

Joshua having a corruption kink

thirst drabbles (5/∞)

fandom » svt

pairing » joshua x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, brother’s best friend au.

word count » ~ 1260

warnings » profanity, soft dom!shua, sub!reader, inexperienced/virgin!reader, corruption kink, use of pet names, tons of praising, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, lmk if i missed anything!

It feels wrong, so wrong. 

But at the same time, you are experiencing so many sensations that are completely new to you — sensations that are euphoric.

Even if you tried your best to hate how good he is making you feel, you really just couldn’t. How could you? When he’s fulfilling your deepest, darkest desires? When he’s this close to taking you to heaven? Or hell, maybe. But it doesn’t really matter to you right now. 

Joshua’s hungry tongue laps at your cunt, his thumb gently rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves you had barely paid attention to before. His eyes are trained on your splayed-out figure on his best friend’s bed, taking in every little detail possible. The way you twitch and whimper, occasionally cry out his name, shyly try to cover yourself even in this state – everything is driving him crazy. 

Well, He must have gone crazy, he thinks. Joshua finds it’s hard to believe that he’s actually doing this to you right now. Did you really agree to his straight up scandalous proposition? No cause. Fuck, he’s living his wildest fantasy right now. 

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Tasting so sweet, making such cute sounds and looking all pretty for me.” A grunt escapes him, the sound going straight through your core. Obscene noises of licking, sucking and slurping echo throughout the dorm room Joshua and your brother shares, making you impossibly embarrassed. You shudder and whine, toes curling when he grazes his tongue along your entrance. 

What will your elder brother do if he finds out? What if he walks right into this… scene? 

“What’s so important that you gotta think about it when I’m eating your pussy diligently? Or am I not doing good enough, angel?” Joshua stops for a second, three of his fingers slapping your clit. You jolt and let out a broken mewl. The sudden action increases the weird feeling inside your lower abdomen, your eyes tearing up a little.

“Ah, ‘m sorry… I–” you halt, realizing that he has completely pulled away from your throbbing cunt. His hands are still grasping at your thighs firmly, but his mouth is far away from where you want it to be. Joshua suddenly chuckles out loud, your inner walls clench from his smooth yet deep voice. 

“You look like a kicked puppy. What happened, baby? Tell me what’s going on.” He drops a butterfly kiss on the delicate flesh of your inner thigh. You have no idea why, but you realize that your pussy is aching. For him. You want him to continue.

Flustered by your own thoughts, a nearly inaudible ‘please’ is all you manage. Your left hand comes up to cover some parts of your face soon after. But, of course, the devil between your legs isn’t satisfied with just that. “Sorry, but I didn’t catch what you said. Say it loud and clear, okay? Try again, angel.” 

The subtle smile on his lips seems to be encouraging. Although, you swear it’s a smirk he’s hiding underneath. 

“Don’t leave– um, stop like that… please, Shua.” Your heartbeat is dangerously high, and you’re also starting to realize exactly how hot your skin has got. 

Joshua raises an eyebrow at you, licking his lips on purpose. “You can do better, don’t you think, baby? How about you be more specific? What do you want me to do?” 

Heat rises to your face, and you find yourself swallowing nervously. “But that’s so embarrassing!” You complain, definitely louder than intended. 

“What’s so embarrassing about wanting to get your pretty pussy sucked until you come all over my face? If I was you, I’d have wanted the same.” Joshua shrugs nonchalantly. 

You groan, hiding your face under your hands, your hips bucking up automatically. Adding more to your devastation, he teasingly trails open-mouthed kisses down your thighs, going dangerously close to your gushing and throbbing cunt, but stopping before he can reach there. 

“I know you want it so bad, baby. I can see your little hole clenching and your clit is all swollen. Just say the word! Let me take care of you.” 

Desperation blinds you, your hands balling into fists. “God, fine! Please… eat my pussy. Please. It hurts, Shua.” Your immediate wish is for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, but instead, he’s the one consuming you entirely.

“That’s my girl, you did so well.” Joshua smiles before diving right back in, his nose pressing against your clit while he pushes the tip of his tongue into your core. You cry out, one of your hands flying to grip on his messy locks. He hums appreciatively, clearly enjoying the way you pull onto his hair. The warm, flexible muscle gently strokes your gummy walls, eliciting a moan from you. It feels like you’re floating, every part of your body alight with pleasure.

Each thrust of his tongue pushes you closer towards the edge, yet you feel so far away from it. “Ugh… mm–more! Gonna come, Shua. Please.” You whine, squirming under his grip. Joshua plucks his tongue out from you with a loud popping sound, his darkened eyes falling upon your teary ones. 

His boxers have become incredibly tight, and your sudden plea only worsens it for him. Joshua places your right leg over his shoulder, letting his finger coat in your leaking juices mixed with his saliva. “Look at you. Half an hour ago you couldn’t even look me in the eye, were trying to hide yourself and refusing to say what you wanted. Good job, baby, I’m so proud of you.” Those words affect you immediately, the embarrassment starting to creep back up. 

However, before you can do anything, his index and middle fingers slide inside your sopping cunt, your body tensing up from the overwhelming, foreign feeling. He realizes and rushes to whisper sweet nothings, stroking your tummy to calm you down. “Relax, angel. It’s gonna hurt the double if you are tense like that, yeah? Everything’s okay. You are so wet, taking me so well.” 

You slowly ease up, whimpering immediately. Joshua’s thicker, longer fingers fill you up way better than your own – almost like it’s meant to be. He presses a gentle kiss on your mound, murmuring, “Do you want me to move now, baby?” 

“Yeah…” You nod eagerly, squeezing his still fingers inside you. He groans, starting off slow. The drag of his calloused skin against your spongy walls does some things to you, your hips rocking back and forth to meet him halfway. Joshua can’t help but smirk, watching your walls of ‘innocence’ crumbling down in his hands. Your constant pants and cries almost cover up the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt sucking in his digits repetitively. 

“Shua, *ahng*, it feels– so weird–” you whimper, but he only shushes you. A few tears escape from your eyes, the intense feeling that you’re about to burst increasing tenfold as he leans down to suckle on your clit. You start spasming around him, and then it hits you – a wave that makes your whole body rigid but loosens it up soon after. It feels like you’ve turned into jelly, brain addled. 

Joshua climbs up to hover over your shaking form, fingers still inside your pussy. “Good girl, you did amazing.” He presses a lingering peck on your forehead, then finds your lips in a sweet, comforting kiss. “You made such a mess on your brother’s bed… I’m gonna have to change out the sheets before he comes back.”                 

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it 🥺! it’s been a while since i shared new content so i’m low-key nervous hfhfhjgh. thank you to @yeonjun4beagles​​ for suggesting mr. shua; otherwise, this really might had not seen the light of the day! ;’)

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! do support your local writers, the community is dying 🫠

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[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Scenic Globes (Jade x GN!Reader)

“And this is for you.” 

Placed in your waiting hands was a small glass globe no bigger than a softball. There was an opening at the top, within it a thin layer of sand. You smiled and nodded as you said, “Thank you.” 

Jade smiled in return, his own globe held delicately in his palm. His fingers were longer than yours, the tips brushing the opening of the glass. Inside was its own thin layer of sand: the foundation of the beach terrarium you both would soon create. You were honestly surprised Jade wanted you of all people to spend this time with him. However, you doubted Floyd would be interested in such things; Azul might be, but he was currently busy trying to strike up business in town. Trey was another possibility, but you knew that man always had his hands full aiding Riddle with Heartslabyul’s student management. There weren’t many other options for company, you realized. 

Even so, you couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you want me to make a terrarium with you? I thought you liked to spend time alone when it comes to nature?” 

“I often do, yes,” Jade replied. Those heterochromic orbs eyed you fondly as he added, “However, it has been quite a while since we’ve spent some quality time together. As we are both free this morning, I’d say that opportunity has finally come.” 

“Yeah, fair enough,” you said. You gave Jade a nervous smile and pointed out, “I actually have never made a terrarium before - you’ll have to guide me through it.” 

“I suspected as much.” He placed his empty hand over his heart, “It would be my pleasure to teach you.” 

Usually one would be nervous to go off with Jade alone, but unlike other people you’d come to like Jade’s eccentric attitude. Sure, he could be real ominous at times, with that smile that may or may not intend your doom - and yet, at least when it came to you, you never felt the danger. Floyd did point out to you once that Jade seemed a bit less menacing in your presence…you guessed that was a good sign. So, you threw caution to the wind and let Jade lead you away from the beach and into the lush green brush beyond. 

***

The moment you stepped into that greenery, dusted with golden grains of sand, you both set to work. You crouched down on the ground and sifted through the flora to try and find something of interest to put in your globe. When you glanced back to see what Jade was doing, you saw his terrarium was already in progress. You felt a little frustrated at your lack of progress. “What exactly am I looking for?” you asked. “Like, what do I put in here?” 

“Anything you want,” Jade answered simply. 

Well, that certainly helped you. You watched Jade pluck some rocks from the ground and carefully place them into the glass. Every placement of every object and plant was perfectly calculated; he was constructing a scene before your very eyes. And yet, still, your own globe laid barren. You decided to voice another question, “How do you usually make yours?” 

“Mm…” Jade thought it over for a moment, then said, “I often do one of two things: I will either have a mental vision of how I want the terrarium to appear, or I will simply let the inspiration come to me as I work.” 

Yeah, that made sense. Unfortunately for you, nothing came to mind. You stared down at the small glass orb; the sand sloshed back and forth as you turned it from side to side, careful not to spill the grains. Your eyes scanned the area around you for a moment, then turned back to your globe. For once, you lacked any sort of creativity. You didn’t even notice Jade had come to kneel at your side until his voice was right next to your ear. 

“If I may,” he offered you a pretty flower he held between his fingers, “I think this would be a fine start to your scene.” 

So, he did notice your struggle. Ever the observant one, this eel. No wonder Azul chose him to be his vice housewarden…although, it was obvious why his brother was not picked instead. What a chaotic scenario that would have been. Your eyes took in the flower presented to you: it was small, barring four blush pink petals. You smiled as you took the flower delicately by the stem, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ as you placed it in your globe. The flower now lay prettily on the sand in the corner of the glass, almost like an umbrella. 

“Is anything coming to mind?” Jade queried. 

“I…I think so.” You had a general idea - not a grand one, though. “Do I have to fill the entire thing?” 

“Not at all.” Jade held up his own globe for you to see, his index finger pointing at the space two inches from its opening. “It is actually recommended for you to leave some space, so the space does not become too crowded. I would say the limit for the length of any plant or object that be placed within this globe should stretch no further than here.” 

You nodded as you took in his words, then asked, “Can I leave a space in the middle? Not an empty one, I mean - just one that doesn’t have much stuff in it?” 

He glanced down at you and gave a small shake of his head. “If that is what you wish.” 

Now an idea was placed in your head. It wouldn’t be much, but you think it’d look nice. After another uttered ‘thank you’, you set to work once again. You scoured the ground for what you needed for your vision: tiny rocks and pebbles and seashells, flowers, sprigs of green foliage, and one palm leaf. Jade helped you procure that last piece; unfortunately, you are not tall enough to reach such a height. You carefully arranged all of these items into your glass globe piece by piece. While there was a rearrangement or two in the process, your decoration went off without a hitch. When it was complete, you felt practically giddy. It looked so good! 

“Jade, look!” You rose up from your spot on the ground and trotted over to where he stood in the shade of a palm tree. He glimpsed your figure as you approached from behind, just as he tucked something into his terrarium. You held up your own glass sphere for him to see. “I’m finished! What do you think?” 

The glint of sharp teeth peeked through his smile as he spoke. “It looks wonderful - a very good job for your first terrarium.” He gazed into the globe for a few more seconds before he turned to face you. “Would you like to see mine?” 

“Sure!” You leaned in close as he brought the terrarium up to your line of sight. A gasp released from your lips. It was…breathtaking! The way he organized the palm leaves, sprigs of fresh and wilted grass, pebbles and rocks, seashells, flowers, tiny sticks. You even noticed there was the tiniest puddle of water in the center; it looked like a mini oasis! It was…so much better than yours. You suddenly felt self-conscious, ashamed, but you forced a smile as you voiced your own praise. 

“It looks amazing!” You lightly pressed the tip of your finger to point out the mini puddle of water. “How did you prevent the water from soaking into the sand?” 

“I brought a little tool with me.” Jade lowered the globe so you could peer into it from the top opening. “You see that the sand is pressed down at the bottom of the water? That is because I placed a circular, plastic tray there. I poured a bit of water into the tray; it will prevent the sand from soaking it up.”

“That’s so cool!” Though you genuinely meant the compliment, the shame from your inexperience only grew. “You’re really talented, Jade.” 

“Why, thank you, [Y/n].” He looked quite pleased with your statement, eyes closed for a moment in silent joy. When they opened again, his smile drooped into a different one as his eyebrows downturned. “But there is sadness in your eyes. Have I done something to offend you?” 

Once again, very observant. You knew better than to lie, or to say it was nothing. Jade would find out one way or another - and he would be hurt that you’d keep something like that from him. So, with a sigh, your own smile faded into a frown, head lowered in a mix of shyness and shame. “N-No, you haven’t offended me. It’s just, well…I guess I wish I could be as good as you are, making terrariums, I mean. I know I just started, but,” you chuckled as you glanced down at the glass in your hand, “mine looks so barren compared to yours.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Those heterochromic eyes filled your vision again as Jade knelt before you. He carefully set his terrarium beside him before he came to clasp yours. “May I?” With a nod of your head, you let Jade take the glass orb and lift it between you two. “Yes, yours is not as detailed as mine,” Jade began, “but there is a beauty to minimalism. This scene you have created…is it perhaps a campsite on the beach?” 

“How did you know?” You tilted your head to beside in bewilderment at Jade’s observation. 

He let out a soft tiddle before he continued. “I recognize it from the fires we built along the beach the other night, when we were with our classmates. Though we did not sit at the same fire, I do recall there being a large umbrella beside yours. It was Riddle’s, was it not?” 

“Yes.” 

“Though it is a lighter shade of color, you have tucked the flower I gave you in the corner to represent that umbrella. In the center, where you’ve made a small circle of pebbles, that is to represent the campfire; I like how you placed a stem of red weed in the center.” 

“Do you think I shortened it too much?” you asked. 

“No.” Jade’s eyes flicked up to meet your gaze - within his were a softness you hadn’t noticed before. “It is the perfect size to mimic a fire.” He glanced back down at the globe, “I see a few shells peeking out of the sand as well.” He paused for a moment, then looked up and asked, “Might I ask what the palm leaf is to represent?”

“The large towel Trey had laid out for us,” you replied. “I tried to cut the leaf just enough to fit in the glass without it overpowering everything else.” Your worried gaze met his once again as you shyly admitted, “I know it doesn’t look too good.” 

“On the contrary, I think it is a wonderful edition.” Jade squinted to get a closer look inside, nose almost brushed up against the glass. “You used the materials at your disposal to create a scene from memory. I believe it is a very accurate setting.” He offered the terrarium back to you and you took it. “I also think your decision to keep the backdrop clear allows for even further detail. You can simply hold it up to the sky - anything, really - and let it paint the picture in your mind.” 

For the way he described it, you felt a lot better now. Still, compared to Jade’s, it was obvious who was the true professional. Your smile returned brighter than ever as Jade stood. “Thank you, Jade. I feel better about it now - and hey, like you said, I’m a beginner. I’ll be sure to get better with time!” 

“Indeed, I believe you will.” Jade picked his terrarium up off the ground as he spoke again. “Does that mean you wish to do this again sometime?” 

“I’d love to!” You walked with Jade as he began to lead you two back to the beach. “Next time, I’d like you to show me how you make yours. I want to see all the different things you can do.” 

“You flatter me.” You glimpsed the lightest tint of pink creep up on the man’s cheeks. He now grinned from ear to ear, not too worried about showing his teeth to you. “I will be sure to teach you everything I know.” He paused in his speech, then that smile turned a tad mischievous. “Well…perhaps not everything. That sort of knowledge will cost you.” 

“Cost me what?” You felt it might be a mistake to ask, but what the hell? 

“Hmm, who knows?” Jade cooed with a small shrug of his lean, yet broad shoulders, still cloaked in that bright purple, tropical button-up. Those orbs had a dark look about them now, glinting with devious intent as he leaned down close to your face. “Do you wish to find out?~” 

You didn’t know why, but you decided to meet the merman’s challenge with a smirk of your own. “What if I do?” 

Jade hummed, “Intriguing. Though we are close, you are often hesitant to accept any plot I might have schemed.” 

“Usually,” you raised your eyebrows as you stared back at him, “but I’m feeling lucky today.” 

“Are you now?” Jade let out a small laugh, smile a bit gentler now. “Well…do call upon me when you are ready to begin your next lesson.” 

You most certainly would.

[lurkingshan]

Shan! After today’s episode of Only Friends, I have the feeling that I’ve lost a sense of the endgame of this series. I think I was under the impression — from the promos, the tweets, etc. — that we were going to get a summarily messy ending, with a whole bunch of toxic threads needing to be unwound. I’m intrigued by my thoughts on this — and maybe a touch concerned that we might end up getting morality stories out of this. By the time we roll around to an episode 10 or 11, what are your thoughts on a viewer not having a sense — not even of where the journey will end — but also of what the meaning of the journey was in the first place? I wonder if, in successful show construction, if I would have had a stronger and clearer sense of this earlier in the series?

Typically, we do have a strong sense of a show’s arc and narrative beats by this point in a story, but Only Friends specifically does not follow bl beats, so it’s always been a little bit its own beast. That said, it’s funny that you ask this now because after this week, I do feel like I have a sense of where this is going and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Namely, I am now fairly confident that we’re headed toward an ending with all three couples together and happyish, if not purely happy. The way this episode was structured to lead us into the final arc points to the end game conflicts—Boston and Nick figuring out where they stand on monogamy and distance, Mew deciding whether he can truly forgive Top, Ray trying rehab and Sand getting his head spun by Boeing—playing out next week, leaving the finale for resolutions and probably some kind of final word on this group of friends who barely seem to like each other.

I feel mixed about this suspicion because to me, happy endings all around doesn’t feel totally aligned with the spirit of this show and some of its themes. It feels a bit like the character arcs have been adjusted as we go, so that if you returned to the beginning and tried to draw a straight line to where we’re landing, it wouldn’t entirely track. But I’m also aware that this show has been unusually shaped by external forces like branded pairs and fan reactions.

In recent interviews the show’s creators, Jojo and Ninew, shared a few things that made a lot of this click for me:

Their original vision for this show was intended to be cast entirely with supporting actors and not bl pairs (this is why Neo and Mark were first in)

When they realized they were getting branded pairs they they were surprised and tweaked the characters and story to fit them (I’d bet money this rehab arc for Ray was added once they knew Khaotung was playing him)

Jojo allows the actors and their management to view their scenes (he said this specifically about sex scenes, but it may include others as well) and anything they are uncomfortable with doesn’t get put in the show

They have been tracking fan reactions closely and have incorporated those reactions into their final editing decisions (for example, removing a scene of Top hooking up with a random because people already hated him more than expected)

For me, all of this adds up to the conclusion that the show has in fact changed pretty significantly from their original vision, and those changes have been in the direction of a more conventional ending that will align with expectations for bls with branded pairs. In the end, branded pairs are a capitalist endeavor and they can’t let OF damage the brands. So while I do think the show has done more than any that came before it to push the boundaries of these constraints, they’re not going to be able to go all the way. The pairs need to end up in a good enough place that fans don’t want to burn GMMTV to the ground and the actors’ next projects are still set up for success.

So to your original question: I think the tension you’re feeling about the show’s overall point is a result of these changes creators are making as they bow to external forces. I personally think, given the constraints they are juggling, that they’ve still kept the story and its themes pretty legible, and some of the messaging is landing very consistently. But Only Friends is clearly not purely uncompromised art, it’s serving a lot of different needs and motivations.

[universitypenguin]

Chapter 17

The Princess & the Lawyer

Summary: Elliot reveals what ‘Mercury’ referred to, unleashing a flood of bittersweet memories in Lloyd that lead him to re-explore the darkest parts of childhood and uncover evidence of a devastating betrayal. Meanwhile, Princess deals with the aftermath of her near death experience and grapples with doubts about the true identity of her stalker.  

Masterlist

Word Count: 6,021

Warnings: Contains descriptions of child abuse, memories of being buried alive, description of taphephobia - aka, the fear of being buried alive, vivid description of a panic attack - written in a manner intended to draw the reader into the physical experience of a panic attack. Contains content related to police corruption, murder, criminal behavior, police investigations, a scene involving emergency room care, and stalking. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors allowed. 

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

Chapter 17

Lloyd skirted around a thicket of weeds and ducked under the branch of a towering giant hogweed, scowling at the unwelcome intruder. The disrepair of the property grated on his nerves. He added another mental note to his to-do list for tomorrow: call a weed removal service to clean up the invasive species his father had allowed to thrive in the backyard. They rounded the thicket and the beam of Elliot’s flashlight fell on the dilapidated garage. It was halfway hidden in the woods behind the house and screened from view by the untrimmed weeds. 

“What are we doing here?” Lloyd asked.

“Hang on,” Elliot said. 

He pulled on the garage door handle and to Lloyd’s surprise, it swung easily into the rafters. Elliot flipped a switch on an extension cord by the door to turn on the overhead lights and Lloyd stared, speechless.

“This is what ‘Mercury’ was referring to,” Elliot said. 

“A Mercury Cougar… my mother’s car,” Lloyd murmured. 

“Yep. Your Dad asked me to restore it last year. She turned out gorgeous. The keys are inside, if you want to take it for a spin.” 

His throat felt thick as he stepped forward to inspect the bright metallic blue paint on the 1971 Mercury Cougar. He knew every inch of this car, from the cassette player his mother had installed in the dash herself, to the buttons on the radio dial, the white leather bucket seats and the fold-down rag top with squeaky hinges. He ran his hand over the glossy paint. 

“It’s beautiful. You did a great job.”

“So, you remember this car? I think she must have had it before my time,” Elliot said. 

“Yeah. I don’t think I was in school yet when she was driving the Mercury. She’d let me sit on her lap and pretend to drive when we drove into town. I remember she put the cassette player in the dash by herself… She was always listening to music…” 

The rush of memories startled him - crystal clear and bittersweet, they grabbed him by the heartstrings and twisted, sending a painful bolt of emotion through his chest.

Elliot shuffled his feet. “Anyway, this was where Holbrook thought I’d stashed the drugs. Everyone in town knew I was working on it all last year, so it was only logical.” 

His cousin cleared his throat awkwardly and reached for the flashlight he’d set on a tool chest. “Know what? I’m gonna head in for the night. See you tomorrow.” 

When there was no one around as a witness, Lloyd bowed his head and let the emotions sweep through him. He waited, expecting tears, anger, something, to come out of him… but nothing came. He felt empty. Cold. Alone.

… Abandoned. 

The joyful memory of riding on his mother’s lap while she drove only stirred faint echoes of anger. It mostly dragged up a raw feeling of pain, the kind he had little experience handling. The emotion burned in his belly like whiskey and he swallowed hard as his mind replayed the scenes from the past. Even decades couldn’t wash away the smell of her heavily perfumed hand lotion as it reached across time to fill his head with its musky scent. He could remember the exact shade of her nail polish - Kelly Green - and the softness of her hand stroking his hair. Even perched on her lap, he hadn’t been tall enough to see over the wheel. 

Lloyd turned away. He shut the garage door and started back to the house before the thought of Elliot waiting for him made him pause. Company was the last thing he wanted right now. He was a riot of conflicting emotions, which was exactly the state of mind Dr. Blair recommended he should avoid. Odds were, Elliot was locked in a bathroom, either shooting up or smoking meth. That wasn’t a confrontation he needed to have right now so he changed directions and headed for the barn. 

It was a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

In the barn he checked on the sick calf and gave Jane a bag of oats. His mind mechanically ran through tomorrow’s to-do list, as if on autopilot. He needed to call the gravel company about repairing the washed out road and coordinate the pick up of the sick calf with April. He’d have to help her load up Jane, along with what remained of the fresh hay. The horse would board with her for a few days before her new owner came down from Coeur D’Alene on Wednesday. Then he needed to contact a weed removal service about the Giant Hogweed in the backyard and… take his cousin to rehab. 

Lloyd sighed, rubbing his eyes. Yeah. He needed to do that more than any of the rest of the final chores. April had asked him to help Elliot. He had, but the job wasn’t finished yet. The decision settled his nerves, and he moved down the aisle, ready to initiate the confrontation.

Then, a chill ran down his spine. 

He hadn’t realized where he was standing. He was in the middle of the barn, equidistant from the back exit and the front doors, in the center of the aisle facing the east wall. Straight ahead was the half open door of the tack room. Goosebumps raised on his arms and crawled up the back of his neck as the chill wrapped around his lungs and spread into his heart. He dragged his gaze away, but it was too late.

It was cold. It was so very, very cold.

His hands were shaking. 

He watched the shaking spread to his forearms and felt it rattle through his chest. His muscles clenched and shuddered. He grit his teeth against the wave of dizziness and reached out to brace himself on the wall, but missed. Numbness came after the cold. He recognized the fumbling reaction and knew it meant he’d entered the phase where his sense of spatial awareness disappeared. Fighting for breath, Lloyd panted. He had the presence of mind to drop to his knees as the room tilted, and then he was down on his hands and knees, trembling. 

He tried to move but it was as if the force of gravity had quadrupled. Lloyd groaned. It came out like a whine. He needed to get out of here. Pressure built in his chest, discomfort and then a sharp pain. It ripped through his sternum and sliced into his back, climbing up his neck. This feeling was why he’d thought he was having a heart attack when the first panic attack struck him in the middle of the night, when he was alone in his cell in France.

His muscles were rigid as the attack rocketed through him. When it eased, they went limp and Lloyd slumped to the ground. There was no point in trying to move - he’d been through enough episodes like this to know. His head was swimming, his throat hurt, and nausea roiled his stomach. Gradually, the symptoms eased, and he was able to sit up with his back to the wall. The position had him facing the tack room door. 

The events that had occurred inside the tack room were known only to three individuals. One of them was dead and of the two who remained alive, Lloyd was the sole person at liberty to speak. Joe was the one who was dead and Dr. Blair was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, and Lloyd… He was constrained by the same intangible force that had kept him muzzled for over thirty years. In therapy, Dr. Blair had resorted to hypnosis to help him shed the gag that choked him. The treatment helped. Afterwards he’d been able to talk about it, at least in his therapy sessions, but never anywhere else. Never to anyone else. 

He’d painstakingly translated the ugly memories into words and then repeated those words, over and over, until he could recite them as if reading from a script. He’d written them down and burned the pages. Dr. Blair’s approach was to expose him to the memories until he could dominate them, instead of the other way around. Lloyd hated it, but it worked. The boiling temper that had been his constant companion all his adult life eased to a simmer. A few months later, the panic attacks stopped. Except for flare-ups brought on by acute stress - which only seemed to happen at night - they’d disappeared.

He hadn’t been naïve enough to think that years of therapy could overcome the effect of being confronted with the physical reality of the tack room. That was why he’d tried his best to avoid this place all week until his inability to grieve had drawn him to it.

What if he went inside? Would it help?

Just the thought of it made his guts twist with the urge to vomit. He could go inside, Lloyd told himself. His father was dead. Joe was dead, and maybe going into the room as an adult would give him some sense of victory.

Victory? He doubted that was possible. Maybe closure was a better word. You would probably use a word like closure to describe what he was hoping to achieve. He didn’t know if he believed in closure. For people like you it seemed to work, but people like him held onto things, especially negative things. 

Lloyd inhaled sharply through his nose, huffing the alfalfa scented air in an effort to calm his racing heart. Having a high level of self-awareness was a major downside of prolonged therapy. He hated knowing what was wrong with him, but being unable - though, perhaps ‘unwilling’ would be a better adjective - to change. Whatever it was, inability or unwillingness, he couldn’t embrace ideas like closure. He needed the hatred and rage foraged inside of this barn because it had built a nuclear reactor inside of him that powered his every waking moment and kept him alive. That reactor was still alive inside of him, there was just a better containment system for its toxic fumes. 

None of his justifications made much sense, and he knew it. But he also knew the unhealthy coping mechanisms worked, and that was why he couldn’t let them go. He held onto the irrational belief that if he let go of the hatred, he’d turn into dust, like Lot’s wife. She glanced back at Sodom and Gomorrah and had become a pillar of salt. He imagined himself in a direct inversion of that tale - if he didn’t look back, then he too, would crumble. 

Lloyd used the wall to help him climb to his feet. His chest heaved with effort. The half open door taunted him. He’d already gone inside once, on his first day here, in the middle of a sunny morning, to gather up Jane’s tack. He hadn’t stepped foot in it since and had even gone as far as avoiding looking at the room. This wasn’t a good time for this showdown. It was dark, and that was a problem. Acknowledging that fear made him feel like a child, but it was too strong of a compulsion to ignore. 

Lloyd moved toward the opening, feeling as if he was being sucked into a black hole. The rational part of his brain screamed at him to turn around, but something more powerful than rationality drew him forward. He stared into the dark until his eyes adjusted. There, mounted on the wall, was the bull whip his father had beaten him with. You’d think he’d be covered in scars, but that wasn’t how Joe used the whip. He’d tied Lloyd’s hands to the upper saddle rack and shoved a bandana into his mouth so no one in the house would hear.

There was a slim chance that Ingrid or Josephine would be bold enough to come down to the barn if they heard the noise.

Joe never whipped the girls - just Lloyd. When he was strung up, his father would unfurl the whip and double it over. He swung it like a billy club and stuck Lloyd in the back. He held the thin part of the whip that would have broken the skin by coiling it around his fingers. Then he’d use the thick part to cover his son in bruises. The bruises were deep because his father was a strong man with bouts of temper like a hurricane. Lloyd could take almost any beating without a sound by the time he was five. That’s probably why Joe had to think up a worse punishment. Lloyd couldn’t remember a time before the worse punishment, so he figured he must have adapted at an even earlier age than his memories could reach.

Without needing to turn on the lights to find his way, Lloyd stepped into the tack room. His feet took him to the far corner behind the lower rung of saddle racks. It was too dark to see his hand in front of his face on this side of the room, but regardless, his fingers immediately found the latch. He raised the lever and opened the small trap door. His heart was racing as the scrape of the hinge triggered an unexpected rush of adrenaline. 

He was nine years old all over again. His back burned, his legs stung, and blood dripped down his temple. Of course, he didn’t cry - that would only make things worse. 

The stoicism had stayed with him, a permanent feature of his personality. There was no undoing it - the abuse had carved it too deep. Even now he couldn’t offer a genuine reaction to his most intense emotions if his life depended on it. Intense emotions, except for anger, which was a different matter altogether, had an unusual effect on him. When those feelings came, he felt as if he were shoved into another room where they couldn’t reach. They still existed, but weren’t a part of him. That mental space was like Schrödinger’s box - there was something there, something brewing; it was neither real nor unreal, because he was inside the box and everything else was outside. He liked that frame of mind. It could last for hours sometimes. Lloyd wished it was permanent, because it felt blissful, like the mindset people aimed for when they were meditating.  

At present, he couldn’t draw up the stoicism or enter that calm, peaceful mindset that usually protected him in moments like this. He felt panic swarming up, but even so, he just couldn’t stop. He raised the trap door and found the lip of the cover underneath. It moved like a pocket door and slid out of the way. He pushed it into the recessed compartment under the floorboards to reveal the box.

The box was cut into the floor. It was approximately the size of a coffin, but deeper than a typical coffin would be. Its thick oak boards were double wide and sealed with linseed oil. Lloyd swung his feet down, one, then the other. He tried to stand up and his knees buckled. He caught himself on the edge of the box and realized he was panting.

Unlike in Singapore, there was no smooth hardwood floor to assure him everything was okay. You weren’t here, just a room away, where all he’d have to do was cross a threshold to reach the comfort of your presence. 

Instead, it was hot and the tack room was stuffy. 

The box was double walled, so no one could hear him scream. Joe had always shoved him in the box after beating him. Spans of time in the box varied, but he’d recalled that he’d spent three days in it once. When he was younger, he’d tried everything to get out, expending every ounce of his energy until he was exhausted. That changed as he grew older. By the time he’d gone to kindergarten, not pre-school, there was no pre-school in these parts in those days - he’d known how to handle the box. He knew to lie still and count his breaths. To cry silently, because when he was silent, Joe would let him out faster.

Lloyd’s vision blurred. It was still too dark to see, but he felt around, searching the floor. This was where he’d hidden the pouch of rocks and arrowheads he and Ingrid collected in the woods. He remembered stashing them in here the summer after he’d passed five-foot four and had officially outgrown the box. When he couldn’t find them, he considered using the light on his phone, but decided against it. This place wasn’t meant to be seen. He could feel Joe’s ghost breathing down his neck as he ran his hands over the floorboards. 

There was no leather pouch in the right upper corner, where he remembered putting it. On the chance he was mistaken, Lloyd reached into the far side of the box. His hand brushed something metal and he felt around its contours and realized it was a square metal container… no, rectangular. It was about the size of a tackle box. 

Had Joe re-purposed the torture chamber as a hiding spot for drugs? It would be just like him… 

Lloyd climbed out of the recessed grave and slid the lid closed, then shut the trap door. He carried the box into an empty stall and turned on the overhead light. 

It was a tool box. He recognized it by its unusual teal color - his mother had kept it in the trunk of her Toyota, a vehicle Joe had bought her after the Mercury broke down. He pried open the rusted lock with his pocket knife and found a leather pouch in the top tray. Lloyd unlaced the leather ties and found the polished treasures of his childhood. They were nearly in perfect condition, if a little dusty. He rubbed one on his shirt and held it up to the light, admiring the shiny chunk of obsidian. It was a rock he’d spent hours polishing. He sorted through the pouch and recognized several pieces. A jasper stone, smokey quartz, an agate nodule, and the prize of the collection - trio of star garnets.

Lloyd lifted the tray and found a pile of cassettes. On top of them was a blank envelope, which he opened to find a couple wallet-size photographs. The first was of a little girl with pale blonde hair. She was missing both of her front teeth. He’d been the one to persuade her to tie a piece of floss around the second front tooth and fasten the other end to a doorknob. He’d even helped her slam the door to remove that final stubborn baby tooth. Josie had screamed and bled and rightfully blamed him for the painful ordeal for the next three weeks. The second photo was of a girl with sable hair. She had high cheekbones, dense eyebrows, and a full mouth. Ingrid bore such a strong resemblance to their father that it was almost hard to look at her. His eyes misted, and he felt a spasm in his chest. Anger rose as grief sliced through his soul. 

They’d vanished. There had been no warning to allow him a chance to prepare for the blow. It had wrecked him. He could still remember the agony and confusion in the following days. He hadn’t known what to do with himself in the time between their disappearance and Joe’s return. At first, he’d figured they’d come back. Then it clicked - she’d really done it. His mother had snatched his sisters and taken off and they had left him behind. That moment of comprehension was when the grief set in and overpowered the anger. 

He couldn’t tolerate staying in the big empty house alone, so he’d packed a backpack and headed into the woods. The following days were filled with denial. He’d pretended he was a wild boy who lived in the forest and didn’t have a family and that his sole connection with the big ranch house in the clearing was that sometimes he’d watch the people who lived there. He told himself he was only sad because the family who occupied the house was on vacation in California and he missed watching them. 

He’d loved them. 

He’d loved his mother, even with her psychotic episodes, because she’d loved him. The memory of riding on her lap in the Mercury proved it. Despite her erratic moods and the uncontrollable outbursts that had scared him, there’d been a level of awareness, even as a child, that she couldn’t control those things. He’d loved his sisters, too. He’d loved them more than anything in the world. If they were still alive, he still loved them. 

There was a piece of paper at the bottom of the envelope. Lloyd fished it out and recognized the tri-fold pattern of a letter. It had a small piece of tape holding it shut and when he turned it over, he found his name written on the back in a looping scrawl. The handwriting was instantly familiar, though he hadn’t seen it in thirty years.  The handwriting revealed the identity of the person who’d left the cassettes, preserved his rock collection, and chosen this tool box to store them in.

His mother hadn’t left him without a word. She’d left him what appeared to be the entirety of her cassette collection, a few pictures of his sisters, and she’d written him a letter.

By themselves, the items were innocuous enough but placing them in his torture chamber… that was an arrow to the heart. It was proof that she’d known what Joe was doing to him. He’d often wondered if she had a clue about what he was going through in the barn, but until now he couldn’t be sure. There was a part of him that questioned if it was possible for her not to know, but he’d always given her the benefit of the doubt. Now, there was no benefit left to give. 

His mother had known Joe buried him alive under the floorboards of the barn. She’d known that he was down there, breathing in the thick, humid scent of earth that still reverberated through his nightmares today. Lloyd could forgive her for allowing the beatings. Hers were just as frequent, if not more so, than his. But the fact that she’d known about the box…

He crushed the letter into a ball.

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

An emergency room doctor who looked as if he’d witnessed enough history to make textbooks jealous, splinted your wrist. You accepted his referral to an outpatient clinic and promised to schedule a follow up next week. Detective Diskant was in the waiting room with Zach. He took your statements and asked lots of questions you didn’t know the answers to.

By the time Zach unlocked the door of Lloyd’s townhouse, you felt like a zombie. The combination of adrenaline crash and pain medication was a potent one. Landon showed up with a duffle bag for his boss and they both grilled you on the finer details of Aiden’s text messages for two more hours. You tried your best to be helpful, but it was useless. They were clearly questioning whether Aiden was behind the messages and the other incidents. While you saw their point, you couldn’t think of an alternative suspect. You agreed with Zach that you should reach out to Mr. LeDoux in the morning and that you would work from home one Monday.

Lloyd was due back Tuesday. That would be a hard conversation and you weren’t looking forward to hurting his feelings, but you’d made your choices and still considered your actions to be in his best interest. Landon left at midnight and you checked that the downstairs guest room had fresh sheets and stocked the bathroom with towels before going upstairs. 

Ten minutes later you were in the shower, crying. 

It was so unfair. You’d only dated Aiden for a few weeks. Why would he do this? Did his bruised ego really demand such disproportionate retribution? What if he wasn’t your stalker? Who else could it be? The last two questions nagged at you, especially considering your recent confrontation with him. He’d had you alone, and he’d been free to harm you, just like the text messages threatened. The exchange with Aiden had been belligerent, but not overtly threatening. Maybe it wasn’t him. 

In its overwhelmed state, your mind couldn’t tolerate that version of reality. With so much uncertainty already hanging in the air, the one fact you’d come to terms with was the identity of the threat. Knowing Aiden was your stalker helped you understand his motivations and respond accordingly. If it wasn’t him, then what? What options did you have to fight a shadow?

Your mind swung briefly to the Nguyen case, and the missing identity of Julia’s “sister.” Her identity was even more shadowy than your stalker’s and that was another question you needed to tackle. First thing tomorrow, you promised yourself. Right after you and Zach called Mr. LeDoux. The thought of calling him made your stomach pitch. Tears came even harder as your imagination took flight, bringing up questions and asking you to consider possibilities you didn’t want to think about. What if you’d accused Aiden prematurely? What if he was innocent? Then, you cried because of how miserable crying made you feel, and because of the whole horrible, rotten situation you were in, and because you were scared that it wasn’t Aiden who was stalking you after all. 

You finished showering and were in the middle of your skincare routine when your phone rang. Lloyd’s name flashed on the caller ID. Sobs were still shaking your shoulders, which caused you to watch the phone ring for a moment. You worried about his reaction if you answered in this state, but he’d been so busy that he hadn’t called much this week and you needed to hear his voice. Swallowing back your tears, you answered. 

“H-h-hello?”

“Princess?” The sound of his silky baritone eased the painful tension in your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“What’s wrong?” Lloyd asked.

“I… uh… I’m watching Marley & Me.”

Silence. “You refuse to watch that movie because you know the dog dies in the end. What’s really going on?”

“I had a fight with my sister,” you lied.

“About what?”

“A lot of things… we just sort of… got into it.”

“Are you okay?” Lloyd asked.

“I’ll be fine. How are you? How’s the ranch?”

“I sold the last of the cattle, but I’ve got a sick calf in the barn. And two days ago, this evil bitch tried to kill me.” 

You giggled. “Was the evil bitch an actual bitch?”.

“She was a blonde.”

“You pissed off a golden retriever?”

“Think bigger. She was a Charolais heifer with the longest horns I’ve seen on that breed. My father clearly wasn’t trimming their horns these past few years. Of all the chores to miss…”

“What did she do? Try to trample you?”

“I had a plan to get her into the trailer, she had a plan to resist, and then seized an opportunity to try and gore me.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds awful. What happened?”

“I roped her.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“It seems some skills come back under pressure. I haven’t roped anything since I was eighteen.”

“Lloyd, were you a cowboy?”

He laughed. “Every ranch kid is a cowboy, honey. It’s not that remarkable.”

“Well, I think it’s remarkable. Can I see your cowboy skills sometime?”

“If it would cheer you up, I’d give you an in-person tutorial.” 

You perked up. “Will you bring your lasso home? I can think of all kinds of uses for it…”

Lloyd wasn’t amused. “I don’t think you realize what a lasso is made out of. It’s meant for animal hide, it would shred your skin.” 

“What about chaps? Spurs?”

“It’s too hot for chaps in August, and if you need spurs, get rid of the horse.”

“Seriously? You’d just get rid of the horse?”

“That was my father’s philosophy. He liked his horses like he liked his people - well trained.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. 

“Lloyd, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Not really. My cousin got into some trouble, and I helped him out of a jam. He’s here with me now and… Joe’s funeral is tomorrow. I don’t think I’m going to go.” 

“What kind of trouble is your cousin in? Is there anything I can do?”

“No. I took care of it. We aren’t close or anything. He’s my father’s sister’s kid; she died, and he grew up in foster care. The only place I ever saw him was at school.”

“That’s so… sad.”

He chuckled. “That sums up my week. I spent Friday hunting down the last of the cattle and ended up hip deep in a mud puddle.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was chasing a cow. She figured out that the only place she could go, where I couldn’t - at least not on horseback - was a giant mud puddle.”

“Did you rope her, too?”

“Yes. And don’t ask me how I got her out, because it’s a four hour window of time I deeply want to forget.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, fighting back laughter.

“On a totally different subject, I’m bringing home 800 pounds of beef…”

“Lloyd!”

“After what she put me through, I’m damn sure going to eat her.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It’s called the food chain, baby.”

“I’m not eating any beef you serve me for the next two years,” you said.

Lloyd snickered. “Hippie.”

“You’re really going native on me aren’t you?”

He laughed, but it sounded tired.

“Have you been sleeping well?” you asked.

“I can’t sleep. I miss you.”

Tears filled your eyes, then spilled over. You sniffled.

“Princess? Are you there?”

“Yeah…” your voice came out as a half sob.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry. I just… I’m not having a great day and the last thing I want to do is dump it all on you. You’re already handling so much.”

“Don’t worry about me. Tell me what’s going on.”

You stared at the splint on your wrist, and thought about what could’ve happened if Zach hadn’t been with you tonight. You thought of your confrontation with Aiden and the photo left on your car on Friday night. Lloyd would get on a plane if he knew what was going on and because of you, he’d miss the chance to attend his father’s funeral tomorrow. While you understood his hesitation about going, you wanted him to at least have the opportunity to go. If there was even a tiny possibility that putting his father in the ground would help him lay his demons to rest, you needed him to have it.

“Princess?” Lloyd asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m having some problems with… Aiden. He’s… um… you know, this isn’t a conversation we should have over the phone. When you get back, I’ll tell you everything, okay?”

“Zach would be more than glad to rearrange Aiden’s face, if you asked him to. He’s been itching to do it since he met the kid.” 

Your laugh was watery. “Hey. I could totally do it myself. Landon and Jake gave me a self defense lesson.”

“Because of Aiden? Why? What did he do?” 

“He’s probably harassing me. Zach found out today and confronted me about it. By the way, he’s staying in your guest room tonight.”

Lloyd grunted. “Good, and you didn’t answer the question. How is he harassing you? When did it happen? Does Jake know? Nevermind, of course he does. He was probably your first call.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought I could handle things and it turns out I was wrong.” 

“I’ll be home by Tuesday afternoon, maybe sooner,” he said.

A day and a half. You could make it that long. 

“You know, this is the longest we’ve ever been apart,” Lloyd said.

You blinked. “It is?”

“Yeah. Since we started working together, we’ve never been apart for more than five days in a row.”

“What about when I had the flu? I was out for a whole week.”

“I brought you soup and medicine that Friday night.”

The memory made you smile. You hadn’t been working for him for very long and opening the door to a scowling Lloyd had been quite the surprise. He’d carried a pharmacy bag under one arm and a carry out container from his favorite restaurant in the other. The soup was vegetable noodle, with extra broth. 

“I remember it now. Did you know you’re an amazing friend, Lloyd?”

“It was probably weird of me to show up out of the blue, but I had to do something. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I couldn’t cope if I lost you.”

The pain in his voice worried you. He was hurting and you wished you could stop it. Tears filled your eyes again.

“Do you need me to come out there?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’ve tied up all the loose ends.” 

The catch in his voice made you frown. “Lloyd, what happened?” 

“I had to take care of a few things with the less than legal side of my father’s business. He wasn’t just a rancher and I had to motivate some local thugs to… move to a different scene.” 

“Ah. I see. Should I find a lawyer in the area, or do you have someone on retainer? I’m only asking in case your methods attract the wrong attention.” 

He grunted. “Local law enforcement is a bit tied up at the moment, but just in case, there’s bail money in the safe. The passcode is 917889 - if you can’t remember it, tell Jake it’s my three favorite Super Bowls in order. He’ll understand.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I tend to forget they play the Super Bowl on a yearly basis.”

“I can help you out with that. We’ll watch my favorites together when I get back.”

“Can I take an Ambien first?” 

He laughed, and the line fell quiet. You wondered if you should tell him exactly what was going on, but figured plenty of people knew already. You’d filed the official complaint with the police and Detective Diskant was putting more resources into the case tomorrow. Besides, in thirty-six hours, Lloyd would be home. 

“Lloyd? I’m glad you called. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I am, I just need some sleep.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he said.

“You’re the one who spent the last week playing cowboy. How’s your back feeling?”

“I’d rather not say because it would make me feel old.”

You giggled. “If it helps, I’d be out of commission within an hour if I tried that kind of work.”

“Princess, you don’t like your shoes getting dirty in the rain. You’d shrivel up and die at the amount of dirt and mud out here. Especially if you saw the amount of it I’ve tracked into the house.”

“I can imagine it, and it’s not pleasant. But if you need me, I’d be there in an instant. You know that, right?”

“It goes both ways. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

His words were spoken so tenderly that a lump the size of a golf ball swelled in your throat.

“I know.”

“Shit, I made you cry again.”

You wiped your face, laughing. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess, but I wanted to talk to you.”

“You never told me what Aiden did. Did he call you? Show up at the office? Your apartment?”

“It’s not important. Zach is downstairs and I’m safe. We can talk more tomorrow, just come home safe.” 

“Alright. Sleep tight, Princess. I’ll be home soon,” Lloyd said. 

Your heart fluttered. There was a wealth of affection in his voice that wrapped around your heart, and though it wasn’t spoken, his words held more love than any explicit confession could convey. 

“Goodnight. I love you.” 

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

Next - Part XVIII

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Masterlist

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Jedi: Fallen Order - The Musical (Act 1)

Wait, hear me out…

Alright look, I am fully aware that trying to turn Jedi: Fallen Order into a musical is a dumb idea. I am fully aware that Star Wars in general would probably not benefit from the musical treatment. And I am fully aware that even when people hear me out, there’s not a single human on this earth that really cares or has interest in this idea. And honestly, why should they? It’s not even like I have songs to offer, because despite my music degree, I am a really lousy songwriter!

However, all that being said, I really enjoy the problem-solving challenges that come with adapting a story for a very different medium than originally intended! And when I get my stupid ideas, I want to share them and get them outta my head! So while I have a captive audience, I’m gonna share some of my main ideas for Act 1 of Jedi: Fallen Order - The Musical! If anybody actually cares to read, please like this post, leave comments, reblog or whatever so I can find my drive to finish writing out my main ideas for Act 2! (And if you are not interested in reading 4500 words of my incoherent brainstorming, go ahead and keep scrolling. I will not be offended!)

Act 1

To start the show off, I think it would be somewhat poignant if, at the end of the overture, a single light comes up on Cal and he says the line “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…” before immediately transitioning into Bracca.

I imagine the introduction to the scrappers guild to be a Newsies style dance number, although perhaps not quite as happy.

The opening scenes on Bracca need to lay the foundations for the audience: who were the Jedi? What happened to them? And what is the current state of the galaxy? We have to assume, to an extent, that the audience has no background knowledge of Star Wars.

We also need to establish Cal’s current state of mind- fearful and alone. His only goal is to stay alive. He doesn’t trust anyone, but at the same time he does have friends that he cares about, such as Prauf.

Speaking of Prauf, odds are he’d be adapted into a human or humanoid character for this show. There’s nothing saying his character has to be an Abednedo, and it would be a lot of work to turn an actor into this alien character when said character is killed very early on. The actor would likely join the ensemble for the remainder of the show.

Let’s talk about Cere. Not much about her character would need to change, but without video game restraints confining us to Cal’s perspective, it becomes easier to flesh out Cere’s character arc a bit more. We can have the chance to see inside her head, and we can also have one or two scenes where she has the stage to herself.

Cere’s backstory can also be expanded on. Not only would I have her tell the story of how she tried to lure the imperials away from Trilla a bit earlier in the narrative, I would also have the scene play out onstage from Cere’s perspective so the audience actually gets to see young Trilla (and it foreshadows later when we get to see the exact same scene from Trilla’s perspective). There could also be two or three scenes throughout the first act where we get to see more flashbacks of Cere being a master. Perhaps as she gives advice to Cal, she reflects on times she had to give the exact same advice to Trilla (which could also have the added side effect of making Cal and Trilla interesting foils to each other).

Now Greez you could portray on stage a few different ways. I probably wouldn’t turn him into a humanoid character like with Prauf, because 1) he’s in the show for a lot longer, and 2) if all of your main characters are human it makes it difficult to portray the setting as “a galaxy far, far away.” For an alien species that’s meant to be so short in stature, you could potentially do him as a puppet, kind of like the way Olaf is done in Frozen the Broadway Musical, but I’d probably lean away from that because with a story as serious as this one, some strong emotions could get lost in translation. More likely, I’d try to cast an actor who is shorter in stature (most likely not quite Greez sized, but we just suspend our disbelief) and give him some prosthetic makeup and an extra set of arms that can be puppeted to mimic his real arms. (You might also be able to create his short stature by having the actor on his knees, like Lord Farquaad in Shrek the Musical, but again, you start to risk turning the character into a joke.)

As far as Greez’s character arc, it unfortunately comes off as a bit of an afterthought in the game (aside from the Haxion Brood level) but there is a bit that can be expanded on. He started off accepting Cere’s charter in an effort to pay off his debts, but he eventually comes to believe in her and in her quest. It’s not highlighted very much in JFO because a lot of that growth happened before Cal came into the picture. The most we get to see is his underlying dislike for Cal at the beginning grow into respect and eventually care. In a stage show, his arc would still have to be secondary to Cere’s and especially Cal’s arc, but he could definitely be played as a Han Solo-type character who took a job for money that slowly comes to mean more to him.

You can’t have a Jedi game, or a Jedi musical, without Cal’s best buddy BD-1. Now being a droid, and a very small droid at that, BD-1 would be puppeted onstage by an actor in a similar style to the characters in Avenue Q or Finding Nemo: The Musical. I tend to imagine BD-1 being played by a petite young woman (namely, a dancer) but nothing says it has to be. Since BD-1 doesn’t speak English (sorry, Basic!) it would be a silent role with BD’s beeps and trills being produced by a soundboard, probably controlled by someone in the booth rather than by the actor. However, the actor would bring life to BD-1 through their motions and facial expressions. And despite being a non-speaking and non-singing role, I do imagine BD-1 being front and center in every dance number!

The puppet for BD-1 would need to be lightweight and maneuverable. Due to the distance between the stage and the audience, it would probably need to be larger in scale than BD-1 is necessarily meant to be. It could feature some color changing lights that would likely be controlled by the actor. The entire puppet would be independently controlled by the actor rather than being attached to Cal’s back, however there could also be another version of the puppet that could be strapped to Cal’s back for scenes where BD-1’s absence wouldn’t make sense but a lack of contribution to the scene would make the presence of the actor onstage somewhat awkward (for example, some more personal scenes between Cal and Merrin).

Next character to discuss is Eno Cordova. He would likely have about the same level of involvement as he did in the game, although some bits of his instructions may be altered somewhat to make his quest a little less of a wild goose chase. (I mean let’s be real, he coulda just said “you need an Astrium to unlock the vault, there’s one on Dathomir, go get it.”) He would probably not be a singing role, but he would be portrayed by an actor on the stage, with the hologram effect being achieved by simply highlighting him with a blue spotlight.

Okay, now we get to the bulk of the story and our three main planets: Zeffo, Kashyyyk, and Dathomir. There’s a lot to talk about with these three locations, both individually and collectively, but let’s start with set design. For any show that features as many different locations as this one, you’d be best to have a unit set that doesn’t move that can function as all of those locations. I imagine this show having a large set with several different levels of platforms (it is a “platforming” video game after all) and the primary visual indication that we’ve changed locations would be different colored lights illuminating the cyclorama, the white backdrop at the back of the stage. Likely the choice of color for each planet would match the color of each planet on the holomap in the game (green for Kashyyyk, red for Dathomir, etc). There can also be props brought onto the stage that help indicate a change of setting, such as bringing out Greez’s pilot chair when we return to the Mantis.

As I hinted at before, Cordova in the game basically sends Cal out on a wild goose chase. Yes it’s meant to test him, but ultimately the only one of those three planets where Cal actually retrieves something tangible he needs to complete his quest is Dathomir. Now that works for a video game where there’s things for the player to do along the way, but for a passive audience who is watching rather than participating in the story, there needs to be a better reason for Cal to go to each planet. That’s not to say that Cordova should give him all of the answers, but perhaps there is something that Cal needs to retrieve from each tomb. Perhaps the Astrium comes in three different pieces. Yes, there are two tombs on Zeffo and none on Kashyyyk, but Cordova was here first after all. He wasn’t going to put back whatever pieces he found, but he also didn’t get all of them because he found another Astrium somewhere. Cal knows this because he found that Astrium destroyed in the vault. So he goes to Zeffo and through the Tomb of Eilram only to find that Cordova already took the piece that was there. BD plays the recording where Cordova talks about Tarfull and Kashyyyk, leading Cal to believe Cordova left the piece there and that Tarfull would know where to find it. He goes to Kashyyyk and fights alongside the Partisans, but he is unable to find the piece without Tarfull’s help, so he will have to return when the Partisans find him. Out of other leads, Cal remembers Cordova saying something about Dathomir, so he decides to search there. When he reaches the Tomb of Kujet, he finds that he needs the other two pieces of the Astrium to enter so he can retrieve the third. (Because in this context we can’t really use game mechanics like double jumping as a reason for why we can’t continue.) At the same time, Cere hears about Project Auger being restarted, and they return to Zeffo to search for the Tomb of Miktrull. Beyond this, the sequence of events would largely follow the remainder of the game.

Zeffo would probably be the hardest of the three planets to adapt to the stage because, with the exception of Cal’s confrontation with Trilla, not much really happens there. Much of your time on Zeffo in the game is spent traversing the land and solving puzzles in the tombs, all of which is less than exciting for a passive audience. Some kind of story beats would need to be added to Cal’s time on Zeffo (especially the first visit) that makes up for all the combat and platforming that doesn’t really translate to the stage. The story of JFO already has the slight inconvenience of being largely concentrated in the second half of the game, while in most musicals the first act tends to be longer. (And the game provides a perfect built-in spot for an intermission when Cal gets captured by the Brood, so I don’t really want to change that either.) There aren’t a lot of people for Cal to meet on Zeffo, so you could create a new character(s) and give them their own little subplot, but that runs the risk of creating one too many plot lines for the audience to follow as well as having little impact on the overall story. So more likely you would use that time to teach the audience about the Zeffo and have constant communication between Cal and Cere.

Believe it or not, at one point I considered cutting Kashyyyk entirely. But it’s important to show the early stages of rebellion against the Empire and have Cal get a taste of fighting back. Plus, the Partisans create an opportunity for a pretty fun dance number! However, I probably would cut out Saw Gerrera, simply because the more iconic the character is, the harder it is to translate them to the stage. (Obviously we’re gonna run into that same problem with Darth Vader, but we’ll discuss that when we get there.) Instead, I’d probably single out Mari Kosan as the leader of this group of Partisans, but mention that she is working under Saw. The great thing about Mari is that she’s so minor a character in the game that she can be a completely different character in an adaptation. You might even call her a completely new character with only her name being borrowed from a background character in the game. In this sense, we’d get to see the extremist side of the Partisans through her actions rather than Saw’s, but probably not until Cal returns to Kashyyyk in Act 2. (Also, if it proved necessary for the narrative, you could get away with killing off Mari, something you couldn’t do with Saw.)

I talked about iconic characters not translating well to the stage. Well, let’s talk about Wookiees and Stormtroopers. We certainly can’t go to Kashyyyk without seeing some Wookiees, but we’d want to keep their stage presence to a minimum. Creating their look in a live setting, while certainly possible, is not necessarily easy, and it quickly runs the risk of appearing fake to the point of being distracting, thus breaking the audience’s suspension of disbelief. Stormtroopers, on the other hand, would be a very easy, iconic look to recreate. Too easy, in fact. Despite the fact that they tend to be the butt of every Star Wars joke, the presence of Stormtroopers still needs to be felt as a threat, and that threat can be very quickly undermined if they are overused onstage. Not to mention, the moment you put Stormtroopers in a dance number, it becomes Star Wars Weekends at Disney World. So we’re gonna leave the dance numbers to the scrappers, the Partisans, and maybe the Dathomirians.

Speaking of Dathomir, we have to get there early. Obviously in the game you have the option to go there early on, but you don’t have a story reason to go there until much later. In the game, the crew returns to Zeffo right after they first visit Kashyyyk because Cere gets word of the Empire finding the other tomb. But in this case, let’s say she doesn’t hear about that until after Cal first visits Dathomir. We need to get to Dathomir early because 1) Merrin is far too important a character to be introduced in the second act, and 2) as previously mentioned, the second act is very story heavy and we need to shift some of that into the first act to make it slightly more balanced.

Finally it’s time to talk about Merrin! Her character in the first game was so underused and this adaptation offers the chance to expand on her story. (Although I need someone to hold me back a little, because she’s my favorite character but I need to be reminded that this is not her story. She cannot be a bigger character than Cal or Cere.) Introducing her earlier gives the audience more time to think of her as an antagonist, as they watch her repeatedly reject Cal’s attempts to reach out to her.

Let’s talk special effects, because Dathomir is where that really gets fun. Much of the appearance of Merrin’s magick can be achieved with the use of clever lighting and purposeful staging. Her ability to teleport can be mimicked by having her enter the stage in darkness and then using green lighting and perhaps some fog to illuminate her. Magick flames in her hands can be a combination of lighting and some classic magician props. (Disclaimer: Serious safety precautions would have to taken if we’re considering playing with actual fire though!) And the effects of her magick on her eyes and mouth can be achieved with black-light makeup that is invisible in regular lighting.

Now if there’s one person that tries to convince Cal that Merrin is a threat that can’t be reasoned with, it’s Malicos. As in the game, Cal would encounter this “wanderer” on the path to the Tomb of Kujet. He tells Cal that he was marooned on this planet when he came to study the Dathomirian culture, and that he has been hiding from the Nightsister, who he claims has repeatedly tried to kill him without hearing what he had to say (much like she tried to kill Cal upon their first encounter). Cal offers to help him escape the planet, but Malicos rejects this offer, stating that he has not yet completed his research on the planet (red flag # 1). Cal explains his mission, and Malicos explains that the ruins are surrounded by darkness and the magick of the Nightsisters. He tells Cal that Merrin will throw everything at him to keep him from entering the Tomb, and he tries to convince him that the only way to complete his quest is to kill her before she kills him (red flag # 2). But Cal, beginning to suspect he has ulterior motives, dismisses him and continues on to the Tomb. What Cal doesn’t know yet is that Malicos is also pulling the strings on Merrin’s side and actively trying to pit them against each other in the hopes of solidifying his control over whoever came out on top, as well as to keep them from uniting against him, which he knows would likely happen if his lies to Merrin about the massacre were exposed.

I debated a bit whether I should try to work in the romance between Cal and Merrin. Putting them together in Fallen Order definitely runs the risk of coming off rushed, and the way it was handled in Jedi: Survivor was perfect and probably could not be outdone. However, musicals don’t tend to get sequels (unless it’s Love Never Dies) and especially if we’re expanding on Merrin’s character, you can’t really write her and Cal together without there being sexual tension, and the audience will want to see that resolved, so I guess we’re going for it! (And besides, it’s my musical and I want to!) However, I still want Merrin to be an antagonist for most of the story, and prior to fighting Malicos I don’t want slip into the overused tropes of “he saved her life” or “they had to work together to survive.” The dynamic I’ve come up with instead bears a slight resemblance to Rey and Kylo Ren (cuz let’s be honest, Merrical is everything Reylo wishes it was!). Their first encounter is basically the same as the game, where she tells him to leave and sends the Nightbrothers after him. Take note that when I envision this scene, I have Merrin standing above Cal on one of the higher levels of the set (she had the high ground!). However, I’ve created a new scene between them in Act 1 while Cal is making his way back to the Mantis to return to Zeffo. He stumbles upon her praying to her fallen sisters for guidance, having taken off her hood and cloak. (Metaphorically, it’s almost like he catches her indecent.) Caught off guard and scared, Merrin prepares to defend herself, but Cal shows her that he has no intention of fighting her right now, and Merrin, knowing she wouldn’t win any fight she started in this moment, stands down. This scene gives an interesting visual representation of the power dynamics between the two of them, because where she stood high above him in her first scene, they now stand on the same level, which is made even more interesting if the actor playing Cal happens to be taller than her. Cal explains that he is leaving, but will return, and Merrin proclaims that she will be ready to face him when he does. He tells her about his mission and informs her that the Jedi have been wiped out, but importantly it never comes out that she believes the Jedi killed her family. They sing a counterpoint duet detailing their differing points of view, with Merrin stubbornly refusing to believe Cal’s Jedi “lies.” (This is actually the only song I’ve named: “Fool Me Once.” Fill in the rest of the saying.) By the time the scene ends, the audience should not yet be thinking that Merrin will eventually become Cal’s ally. However, the scene would definitely include noticeable sexual tension during their argument, mostly being in each other’s personal space for a hair too long and some extended eye contact.

Now that I’ve beaten that scene into the ground, let’s go back to Zeffo. Cal explores the Tomb of Miktrull and finally finds the first of the three pieces of the Astrium before encountering (hang onto your hats) the Second Sister, aka Trilla Suduri, Cere’s former Padawan! (Dun dun duuunnnn!!) Nothing super noteworthy changes in this section of the story except that Cal doesn’t encounter Trilla until after he explores the Tomb.

Remember those flashback scenes I was talking about with Cere and Trilla? This is what they’ve been leading up to. In the game, when Trilla takes her helmet off, the only reason we know who she is, is… well, she says so. However, if we see flashbacks of Trilla earlier in the show, now the audience recognizes the face under the mask. Now I know what you’re thinking: “won’t the voice give it away?” Not necessarily, if you’ve got a good enough actress. For all intents and purposes, Trilla and the Second Sister, much like Anakin and Darth Vader, are two different characters and should be treated by an actor as such. A good actress could make her tone and delivery so different between the two characters that first-time viewers wouldn’t put them together (as long as the playbill doesn’t give it away). But even if the audience does figure it out, I don’t think the fact that Trilla became an inquisitor is the biggest revelation in this scene. Because let’s be honest with ourselves, in terms of Star Wars plot twists, that one was a little predictable. But no, the bigger revelations are that Cere betrayed Trilla by giving up her location, she used the dark side in the aftermath, and perhaps most damningly, she has been keeping secrets from Cal.

Alright let’s talk stage combat. For this fight in particular, much like the game, it would get cut short and end up being more talking than fighting. But in general, stage combat tends to be more dance-like movements than martial arts. We’re not going for prequel-style lightsaber duels here. Plus, on stage, you only get one take, so you can’t exactly afford for anyone to get hurt halfway through. We’ll talk a little bit more about lightsaber effects later, but suffice to say, the stage combat, while important, comes second to the emotions surrounding the scene.

So BD-1 cuts the fight short by activating a laser gate between Cal and Trilla. Trilla reveals her past and sings about how you can never trust anyone before leaving. Now on stage alone, Cal finishes out the song by briefly lamenting why Cere didn’t tell him the truth. He hears another disturbance just offstage and prepares to defend himself before being hit by a stun grenade and knocked out by an unknown bounty hunter. Blackout.

End Act 1

So those are my notes on Act 1 of Jedi: Fallen Order - The Musical. I’ll be posting my Act 2 notes in the near future, but before I go, I want to quickly discuss the vocal ranges of each of the characters.

- Cal: Being a classic male hero, Cal would almost certainly have to be a pretty high tenor. However, he shouldn’t be like a squeaky tenor, for lack of a better phrase; his tone should be more round and even. (I’m just gonna say it- Cal probably shouldn’t have gay voice! I’m sorry, I don’t mean that in an offensive way, I just don’t have a better way of describing what I mean!)

- Cere: She would definitely be a low alto. (If we’re talking Broadway, I’m picturing Heather Headley or someone similar.) Not only would that be a good match for Debra Wilson’s voice in the game, but a lower singing voice is often used to portray age. It helps give the audience the impression that she is older and wiser than Cal.

- Greez: He’s a little tricky, but I’d probably put him somewhere in the mid-range, maybe a high-end baritone. I’m not locked into that though, I could also possibly imagine him as more of a low tenor.

- Merrin: Okay some people are gonna disagree with me here, but I would not make Merrin an alto. She can’t have the same range as Cere. That’s not to say I think she should have a super high singing voice, more like low mezzo soprano. But her voice should be powerful; I’m thinking like an Idina Menzel-style belter. (I mean, she is a witch, after all!)

- Trilla: Lemme start by saying that Trilla would not sing with her helmet on, so her first song probably wouldn’t be until the Act 1 finale. I imagine her having a very similar range to Merrin, with perhaps a slightly darker tone.

- Ninth Sister: We’ll talk about her more in Act 2, but she would definitely be a very low alto. She’s a big character, and generally the bigger the instrument, the lower the pitch. She also leans very heavy on the melodrama.

- Malicos: Now odds are he wouldn’t sing until Act 2, but he would definitely be a low baritone, if not a bass. I’ve been comparing him to Claude Frollo from Hunchback, both in terms of his character and his voice. So I would definitely imagine his voice sounding a bit aged, although the actor would also need to be able to do at least a small amount of stage combat, so he might have to be slightly younger than we might imagine the character.

- Sorc Tormo: Speaking of Hunchback, here we’ve got our Clopin Trouillefou. Eccentric and dramatic, Sorc Tormo would be the one to have that squeaky tenor voice that I didn’t want for Cal. (Now HE can have gay voice!)

- Jaro Tapal: I’ll throw him in because I haven’t decided whether or not he would sing, but if he does, he would most definitely be a bass.

One other note about casting: I am in my mind imagining the characters being played by actors who look similar to the actors in the game, with Cal, Greez, and Merrin all being white, and Cere and Trilla being people of color. However, the beautiful thing about a story like this is that there is absolutely no reason that you couldn’t colorblind cast every single one of the characters.

But I think I’ve rambled on enough for now. If anyone is actually still reading up to this point, thank you for indulging me! You are my favorite! Please share your thoughts and ideas in the comments, because I have no one to discuss this topic with and it would make me really happy… 🥺🫶

Act 2 coming soon!!

[elfen-alcibiade]

Hi Alcibiade! 💖 Thank you so much for your kind reply about the Touhou and Danganronpa crossover! I wasn't sure if I should reblog it again, but it got too long, so I'd like to post the answer to it as a new ask.

First of all, I really like the details of the Reimu you finished! You mentioned my draft looks clean, but I’d like to make some overall adjustments when I have more time, as I’d love to match the art style a bit more with yours.

Also, I'm glad you liked Ran's comments! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ Unlike Mamizou and Aya, Ran wasn't a character I originally intended to feature in the story. After seeing your Reimu, I got the idea to make it a Chinchirorin game scene, and then added the idea that it would be fun to have Ran talk about probability. The reason I chose Ran is because she does calculations for various things and is great at math. While the probabilities indicate that getting Pinzoro is extremely rare, I intentionally had her insist that it wasn’t that rare, because I thought that kind of bold attitude felt very fitting for Touhou girls.

By the way, I love how the characters in Touhou come up with strange calculations for some reason.😄 For example, Alice says, “Your power is only twenty-eight-point-five-seven-one-four percent as powerful as mine.” when she meets Reimu in TH7, and even Eirin, who is supposed to be incredibly smart, says, “All the scarlet history that you've built up---Divided by my history, the result is zero.” when she meets Remilia in TH8. I find it hilarious how Touhou girls use mysterious methods of calculation and then confidently declare, “I’m stronger than you.” lol So I am glad I was able to come up with the idea of having Ran explain probability. (It is really thanks to you!)

---

it could be funny to find a way to bring bad luck to Nagito after this victory!

OMG, this is a great idea! 🤩 I see no reason not to draw this scene. In my mind, I imagine more characters will be at this banquet than what I’ve drawn so far, especially the Three Fairies (Sunny Milk, Luna Child, and Star Sapphire), who I assume will definitely be there. So, I came up with two ideas:

In the official manga, the Three Fairies have pranked Reimu several times by planting bombs at the Hakurei Shrine (most of those cruel pranks are done by Star Sapphire 😅). So this time, they plant a bomb at the banquet, and Nagito accidentally detonates it or gets caught in the explosion.

Marisa plans to set off a big firework at the end of the banquet, and the firepower is so strong that it goes off, and both Nagito and Hajime get caught in it. Actually, an item called “Four-Foot Magic Bomb” appears in TH14.3. It’s depicted with a big white ribbon and a star, also the name “Magic Bomb” suggests that Marisa probably made it. It looks like a firework in both its icon and appearance in the game, so I suspect it’s a firework with too much firepower made by Marisa.

I think getting caught in a firework might be cuter than a normal bomb, so it might be better. Anyway, if bad luck happens, I hope something explodes. Why? Because it’s Nagito. lol (Well, he’s more like the person who causes explosions anyway).

It’s probably too early to talk about another story before we’ve finished anything completely, but since you said the draft I sent you was already clean enough, I’d like to keep it roughly as it is and just make a few adjustments, add details, and color it. After that, we can work on something similar. (I imagine we could send what we come up with, even in parts, and create a few short comics.)

Of course, there’s no deadline, and as you know, I have many parallel projects in progress, so it’s totally fine if it takes you a while to reply—or if you don’t reply at all! (Even if you did not respond to this request at the time, I will post it with a mention of you when I finish the comic 😃).

Thank you for everything! Have a wonderful day!🫶💕

Hi Asaka!

If you want to, I can also redraw my Reimu to match your panels more ^-^ And I agree that Ran's bold attitude is very fitting! I love those comments 🥰I don't know those characters as well as you do, but when you explain it, I'm always impressed to see that what you do is always really on-point. But I think that my favorite strange calculation is Eirin's. What does that even mean? 😭 The attitude of touhou girls is something that I love about these games. I have a lot of fun when I play them, and I like to see the characters having fun too >v<

I'm glad to see that you liked my idea! I love both of the ideas you wrote, and I totally believe that something should explode because of Nagito 😅😂 but when I saw your ideas something came up to my mind: why can't we mix the two of them?

I know that it can appear as a weird idea, and we can only keep the firework one if you want, but I imagined that Nagito and Hajime would discover the evil plan of the three fairies who planted a bomb at the banquet. Together, they would try to stop it and get in a fight with the fairies. And in secret, Marisa planned to set off her big firework to surprise everybody, but during their fight, Nagito and the fairies activate it and they all get caught in an explosion while still trying to prevent another one 😭 I made a draft about it for you to see what I imagined, but I can still redraw it, change the ratio of the picture or anything if needed!

And of course, if you want me to do anything for the other comic, please don't hesitate to ask me about it! I really love what you came up with, though!! 🥰🌟Thank you for these super cool ideas for Nagito's bad luck, it's always really fun to share things like that with you, what you think of is always wonderful! I'm sorry that I took so much time to respond though, I was completely into my own manga, and I couldn't get to work on anything else 😭💕but I'm glad to be able to work on other stuff now, because I loved reading your ask when I received it! 💕🥰

Thank you very much for all this, and have a wonderful day 💕🫶

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Sariel’s Melody of Return Translation

*Light and Night Masterlist | Sariel’s Personal Masterlist *Join my Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Sariel’s tag will be #For Night, For Causation *T/N: If you want me to translate something feel free to send in Recordings/Screenshots!

"The bright sunlight shines through the wide glass windows, shimmering down upon the familiar area of the airport. The anticipation and joy of being reunited with him added a spring to my step as my spirits began to soar..

I’d taken such a long trip that I couldn’t help picking up the pace as I headed towards the exit.

The long-awaited Guangqi City awaited behind the exit alongside the person I love.

The hustle and bustle of the airport grew clearer in my ears as I looked around, searching for his familiar silhouette within the airport crowd.

Who is he?"

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Causation⊹ —————★❖

The airport’s arrival pick-up point was crowded with people. Everyone eagerly looked around, anticipating the joy of reunion.

I glanced at the screen of my phone. Sariel’s avatar was still as familiar as ever, but the red dot I was expecting on the upper right corner of it never appeared.

I’d sent him my flight information a couple of hours ago, but before I could get his reply, I was made to quickly switch my phone’s flight mode on at the flight attendant’s insistence.

And I never got his message even after the plane took off.

MC: Is he mad at me?

I scrolled through the messages that we’d exchanged during the time I’d been gone. My replies had been sparser than usual, which was a given since I’d been a little busy as of late. And adding on the fact that I had been in an unfamiliar place… It’s no wonder that he’d been left on read a couple odd times.

The uneasiness in my heart only grew as time passed, so I opened up our chat once more.

My message: What are you doing?

After sending it, I remembered that I’d once joked to him about how “What are you doing?” could be read as “I’m thinking of you.” He’d been confused about it at first, and I even made fun of him for being unable to understand romantic hints.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Locking my phone, I walked out of the airport.

There were lots of people in front of me, but a large bouquet caught my attention. It was a bouquet of pure white flowers dotted with a few sparse leaves, reminiscent of green trees that had been blanketed by powder snow from the sky— romantic and dreamy.

The grand bouquet drew a lot of attention, and the silver-haired man who held it had long since turned his attention towards me.

MC: Sariel!

I immediately ran towards him. I didn’t know where to start after seeing his familiar face after being gone for such a long period, so I just shouted his name in a rather aimless manner.

MC: Sariel…

Sariel: The dumb bird went out for a whole spin and came back, yet why is she still fond of wearing such a stupid smile?

MC: Were you waiting long?

Sariel: Not really, just 20 minutes.

Sariel places a bouquet into my arms.

Sariel: For you.

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me when I thought of him waiting in a crowded area for 20 minutes while holding such an extravagantly large bouquet and ignoring the stares of passers-by.

MC: When did you learn such an extravagant way of picking someone up from the airport?

Sariel: Someone watched a French movie the day before yesterday and sent me a video of the male and female lead’s airport pick-up scene. Was it not a hint?

It was a French romance film named “Reunion” where the male and female leads finally managed to overcome all obstacles and embrace each other at the airport at the very end. The scene was so moving that I recorded it and sent it to Sariel.

I had only wanted to share it with him, but it looks like he’d misunderstood that I’d also wanted to have such a romantic pick-up.

Peeking at his face, I imagined him silently trying to guess what I'd intended when I sent that to him, and how he’d secretly prepared a surprise for me. I suddenly felt that this misunderstanding, although unfortunate, was actually quite romantic of him.

MC: The male and female leads in the movie hugged each other too. So why aren’t I getting one as well?

I pouted and looked up at him.

There was a smile reflected in his eyes as he took a step closer, opened his arms, and wrapped me in an embrace.

The familiar fragrance of white sandalwood lingered in my nose. It was this moment that truly cemented the feeling that I was well and truly back.

I stood on tiptoes as I silently reached up to his ear.

MC: They kissed too, you know. A French kiss…

Sariel: …

I couldn’t help but snicker from the way his ears turned pink. Stepping away from his arms, I looked up at him.

MC: If you're doing it, then you might as well do it till the end, right?

The airport had just reached its peak hour. I knew that he wasn’t very good at being intimate with me in such a crowded place, but his reaction was so cute that it made you want to incessantly tease him about it.

As I was waiting for Sariel to speak up and turn down the suggestion, he surprised me by leaning down and drawing closer….

My heart seemed to be beating to the wrong beat as it thumped wildly in my chest. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

A moment passed before a soft and warm kiss fell on my lips, but it was fleeting, leaving as soon as it came. My cheeks burned when I looked at the people all around us.

Sariel: Not all movie scenes have to be copied 1:1.

Yet you kissed me in public? I inwardly cursed.

Sariel: But that is something I do want to do.

The corners of his mouth lifted as he held my hand.

MC: It’s only been a while since we last saw each other, but your ability to surprise me has grown by leaps and bounds since the last time I saw you.

MC: Did you secretly read a love guide or something?

Sariel: …You really are one dumb bird.

Now that I think about it, I’d been so worried that I might have given him the cold shoulder earlier, but it looks like I’d just been worrying too much.

MC: So you deliberately left me on read just to surprise me?

Sariel then showed me his cell phone. The last line he’d sent to me wrote “Okay, I’ll wait for you.”

MC: Funny, I never received it.

MC: And why don’t I see the text message I just sent you?

I unlocked my phone and pulled up the messenger app. The circle beside the message was still spinning.

It was only then that I realized that there was a reminder attached to the message: Your phone has no credit.

MC: Oh, I was out of prepaid credit. I thought you…

Sariel: You thought, what?

MC: I thought you were ignoring me because you were mad.

I replied, and Sariel only watched me quietly, looking into my eyes.

Sariel: I won’t ignore you, let alone leave you without prior warning.

Sariel: I will be by your side for as long as you're willing to have me.

Those two sentences instantly put me at ease. He’d said that he’d wait for me and that he wouldn’t leave me of his own accord.

A ding sounded from Sariel’s phone.

He tapped on the screen and saw the prior message I sent.

It had been successfully sent to his phone after a few minutes, probably having automatically connected to the airport’s wi-fi.

Sariel thought over it for a moment before lowering his head, his long fingers tapping against the screen. A few seconds later, I received a message from Sariel.

Sariel’s message: I’m thinking of you too.

[fadingreveries]

The Royal Romance, Bk1 Ch1: Once Upon a Time (Pt. 7)

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Story Summary: In this novel-style retelling of TRR, beloved scenes with original commentary from the Choices stories including your favourite group of royals and friends will be expanded upon. Contains extended commentary and scenes from the original story, in-depth descriptions of bonus scenes, and premium choices and outfits.

Chapter Synopsis: Love awaits in the royal court of Cordonia as Riley competes for the Crown Prince! Will she accept his proposal, or will someone else win her heart?

Word Count: 1.6k

Disclaimer: All rights to original commentary, scenes, and characters from The Royal Romance series reserved to Choices and Pixelberry Studios. No copyright infringement intended.

~ ~ ~

A short time later, Riley and Liam were on their own private tour boat headed to the Statue of Liberty. While Riley pointed out other nearby monuments and attractions on land, Liam hung onto every word she said. There was something in the way she spoke so passionately and excitedly about all that she saw was truly admirable. 

“Part of me didn’t think you’d pull this off,” Liam admitted with a grin, glancing back at the docks where the boat had just departed from. 

“You didn’t think I could pull it off? You just don’t know me very well,” Riley playfully smiled, shrugging her shoulders. 

“You’re right. But I’d like to fix that,” Liam commented, before his voice dropped to a hushed tone. “You’re fascinating, Riley. Why are you doing this for me?”

“I’m doing this because… you seemed like you needed it,” Riley confessed, glancing back at Liam with a shy smile. 

“That’s… so sweet of you,” Liam thanked her, a slight blush on his cheeks. This was the most thoughtful gift he had been given in a long time. “To be honest, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

For some reason, Riley found that hard to believe. She imagined everyone bending over backwards to do anything to please a prince. “Really? Come on, you’re a prince. I bet people do things for you all the time.”

“I do get all the perks that come with being royalty, but no one’s ever seen me as just… me,” Liam revealed, breathing a slow breath out almost like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never been able to put it into words before until now. “No one’s ever listened to me the way you do. No one’s ever come up with a spur-of-the-moment plan to make my dreams come true.”

Curious to learn more about this boy’s innermost thoughts and dreams, Riley gently asked, “Liam… what else do you dream about?”

Truthfully, there was very little time for Liam to think about himself when all eyes were on him every moment back home. But when he thought about her question, Liam answered, “Finding someone. Someone who can be the queen that Cordonia needs.”

It seemed like Liam wanted to say more when he opened his mouth and closed it quickly, so Riley added, “And… someone you fall in love with, right?”

“That’s never been part of the criteria that the Cordonian Council uses,” Liam wryly said, shaking his head. A future monarch was meant to have a partner who could rule their kingdom with stability. Love didn’t seem to fit in that equation. 

Suddenly, the boat slowed and the foggy mists of the harbour parted in the middle. In the distance, they saw the Statue of Liberty appear. 

“So? What do you think?” Riley asked, turning to Liam to see his reaction. 

For a moment, Liam was speechless and could only stare in wonder. The deep midnight blue sky and twinkling stars provided the most majestic background for the Statue of Liberty. She looked proud and determined, raising her torch up high in the air as the flames glowed a light yellow matching the crown on her head. 

“Magnificent. I’ve heard that art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you,” Liam commented, letting out a sigh of amazement. 

“And?” Riley prodded, wanting to hear more of his thoughts seeing a monument he had only dreamed of visiting. 

“And right now, looking at this view with you, I feel like anything is possible,” Liam confessed, gazing at her with hope. “Thank you for this moment, Riley. This feeling… this means more to me than you could ever know.”

“Liam…” Riley began, her eyes never leaving his gaze. 

“I want you to know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart,” Liam revealed. He hadn’t known her for long and if this was the only night they had together, he wanted to at least tell her his honest opinion of her. 

Touched by Liam’s words, Riley felt a swell of pride warming her chest. But when she realized he was echoing his own sentiments of wanting to be free and follow what his heart desired, Riley quietly spoke, “You can live that way too.”

With a sad smile, Liam replied, “If only. My whole life I’ve prepared myself to do what’s best for Cordonia.”

As they leaned in closer to each other, Riley whispered, “Well, we’re not in Cordonia now…”

Almost instinctively, their hands met and laced together, holding tight to the other as if they would never find the right time to let go. There was a sense of hope and magic intertwined in their fingers. Riley looked up into his eyes as he drew close to her. Liam pulled her in close to him, cupping her cheek as she leaned in. Meeting in the middle, they felt a warm feeling rush throughout their bodies that connected them as one. They pulled away, and he leaned his forehead against hers. 

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Liam chuckled, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear. 

Riley laughed, placing her arm on Liam’s. “I try.”

As he brushed his finger on her cheek, Liam softly spoke, “I’m glad to have met you, Riley. I’ll never forget this night…”

__________

The next morning, Riley got ready for her day. Last night with Liam was fun, even more than she could have ever asked for. But as she dressed in her work attire, she knew it was only a distant memory to remember from now on. It was time to face the real world where she would continue on with her endless days of work at the restaurant. 

Riley walked up to the doors of the bar where she worked, fishing her pockets for her name tag. She jumped in her spot when she heard a familiar voice call out from behind her. She wasn’t expecting to see Maxwell waving at her from the other side of the street. 

“Riley! Glad I caught you,” Maxwell exclaimed, rushing up towards her. “We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz. But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia.”

“Huh?” Riley asked, confused. Maybe she was still in a dream, dazed from her excursion with Liam last night.

“You wouldn’t usually be allowed to join… but I want to sponsor you!” Maxwell revealed, 

Clearly, Maxwell needed to do some more explaining because everything he said was making her mind race. Riley echoed his words, “Sponsor me?”

“I’m from a noble house, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in contention to marry the Prince. Instead, we can sponsor any girl we choose. And you’re my pick,” Maxwell explained.

Raising her eyebrows, Riley asked, “You want to sponsor me? Why me?”

“I’m not just doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night. I’ve never seen him so happy. Honestly? I don’t want him to lose that,” Maxwell explained. Liam hadn’t said anything once they had gone back to their hotel, but the love struck look in his eyes had given it all away. “We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour…”

This was too much information for a conversation that was only less than five minutes. Riley’s eyes widened. “Whoa. You’re moving a little fast, don’t you think?”

“No time to waste. The opening Masquerade is tonight! It’s the start of the… uh, I guess you could say, it’s the start of the competition,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. 

Everything Maxwell had revealed only prompted her to find out more about what exactly he meant. Riley questioned, “What do you mean?”

“There’s a whole horde of gorgeous, rich, noble women vying to become Cordonia’s next queen. And it’s not just about winning the Prince’s hand. You’ve also got to prove to the council that you can rule Cordonia with him,” Maxwell answered, but he gave a reassuring smile. “But I think you’ve got what it takes. You’re witty and charming,”

Riley was still confused. A masquerade? Winning over the Cordonian council? “Uh, thanks. So… a fancy Masquerade… and what else am I getting myself into?”

“Fun stuff, I promise! You’ll get to go yachting in the Mediterranean, skiing in the Alps, and dancing in the Royal Palace…” Maxwell stated, counting on his fingers before gesturing back to the restaurant. “Or y’know, you can stay here… and go back to your waitressing gig with your crappy boss. That’s probably about as good,” Maxwell said.

For a moment, Riley thought about everything that happened last night… The way she felt an instant connection to Liam at the bar. The way he came up to talk to her at the end of her shift. Climbing up the hill with him to see the view of the beach. Warming up by the bonfire with him. Talking for hours with Liam and sharing parts of each other. Seeing the Statue of Liberty together. Ending the night with one unforgettable kiss. 

She was always looking for more adventure in her life. Why not take the opportunity she was being given? Then Riley slowly started to smile. She answered, “I’m in.”

“Yeah! Go pack your bags. This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!” Maxwell whooped out, as the two headed back in the direction of her apartment ready to embark on their journey to Cordonia.

~ ~ ~

Click here for the TRR retelling series masterlist for more chapters! 🏰

Tag list: @kingliam2019 @princess-geek @karahalloway @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @tessa-liam

[villainessprefect]

title: Dancing Around the Rules

summary: The upcoming unbirthday party is special and requires a certain rule to be followed. So, you ask Riddle for help.

ship: Riddle x gn!reader

word count: 1,964

note: there's 800+ rules and I’m making up my own for fic purposes

Read on AO3!

"Is it really necessary to dance at the next unbirthday party?"

"Of course it is. Rule #453: "For the 49th unbirthday party of the year, guests must dance with a partner at least once before the party ends." There will be no exceptions to this rule. It's a rarity to reach this many unbirthday parties and we need it to be celebrated as intended."

You're not surprised by the odd rule. At this point, you nearly expect to hear a rule for everything under the sun and moon. What does surprise you is how many unbirthday parties have been held in such a short amount of time. And, you'd have to agree with him on the matter. If this unbirthday party had a specific rule then it wouldn't hurt to follow it, especially since it added a little flair to the usual scene.

Not that the past ones were dull, heavens no! Every party was a blast and you were grateful to be invited to each one. Dining with Trey's perfectly crafted food, photobombing Cater's selfies, beating your best friends at croquet, and spending tea time with Riddle. What more could you ask for?

You would definitely be attending the next unbirthday party, regardless of your dancing skills. Yet, the thought of having to dance with someone makes you nervous. You can already hear Ace's teasing if you step on your partner's foot.

(Maybe he should be your partner and you could unintentionally step on him whenever he opens his mouth. Just a thought. A tempting one.)

"What if...someone doesn't know how to dance?"

You doubt you could get out of it. Sure, Riddle allowed you to break a few rules here and there. You weren't from his dorm despite how often you were seen in Heartslabyul. And you did your best to follow the more common ones whenever you could, but it's impossible to remember all the rules. It's amazing how Riddle knew them all by heart.

"Nonsense. Everyone should know how to," Riddle states. He pauses before wearing a worrisome look. "Although, I don't quite understand the latest dances. Cater would know more about those."

You smile and hold back a chuckle. It's hard not to imagine one of the boys doing one of the latest dance trends. This next party is definitely going to be...interesting.

"I dislike the thought of changing the rules, but if I could I'd like to add that the dance should be formal." He emphasizes the last word. He's already dreading the fact of what he may have to see at the party.

"What kind of formal dance are you planning to do?" You ask, curious.

"The waltz."

"You know how to waltz?"

"Yes. Mother taught me when I was young."

Your eyes sparkle upon hearing his answer. In a fit of excitement, you push yourself up from your seat. Your gaze is fixated on Riddle, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Can you teach me? I'll be your partner for the party!"

He blinks, startled by the sudden outburst. It takes a moment for him to gather himself. He clears his throat and glances at the clock hanging on the wall.

It's late. Unlike most in this school, Riddle hates staying up past midnight. And the clock is ticking. It doesn't help that it's already past his curfew. Oh, if only his mother knew about the rules he'd been breaking...

But when he looks at you, he finds it terribly hard to say no. If he were, he knows that you would lose that shine in your eyes. That twinkling brightness that he simply adored. To see a despondent haze instead? No. He simply couldn't have it.

"V-Very well, Prefect," he breathes. "There is still time until the party. While I won't expect a perfect dance if you are to be the Queen's partner you will perform as a King should." His cheeks flare up after realizing what he said. Before he could take back the implication, you'd already snatched his hand in between yours.

"Thank you! I promise that I'll do my best to be a good King!"

The fact that you parrot being his King only makes his face flush a deep red. He turns his gaze elsewhere and tries his best to ignore the harsh beating in his chest. It doesn't hurt and it spreads an unfamiliar warmth throughout his body. He can't tell if he's loosening up or tense now.

To distract himself and the funny feeling, he puts a hand at your back while the other links with your hand, holding it away from you both.

A bright smile graces your face. Your free hand goes to rest on his arm. You let your fingers lightly tap against his, feeling the smoothness of his knuckles. You hadn't realized just how small his hands are compared to yours. Nor how short he is. Well, you know he's short, but standing so close to him and looking down at him just feels odd. The way he holds himself with such assertiveness makes him seem taller. He always holds his head high and proud, never a doubt in his mind about what he does.

"The most important rule for a dance is to never look at your feet. Eyes are to be kept up, remaining on your partner."

You nod. You take one last glance at your footing, wanting to imitate his stance before your gaze meets with his. He does the same, inspecting your posture and position before his eyes lock onto yours. A tint of red colors his cheeks once more.

"Follow my command. I'll lead."

And so, the dance begins. It's kept simple—one step followed by another. Riddle explains the timing and the necessity of starting off by doing the box step. Once the basics are perfected, then you could do the more intensive steps.

As you dance, you focus on Riddle. It's hard to look elsewhere when he's practically shining. With the way he speaks, instructs you with a stern yet soft tone, and how he makes sure his touch is gentle yet firm. He doesn't bark at you whenever you mess up, only asking you to repeat the action to fix your mistake. When you intentionally do a misstep or try to play around, he pouts. He weakly threatens to end this dancing session but doesn't live up to it.

"You're picking up on this fast," he says as you circle around. He stopped muttering out the timing for you a few rounds ago.

"Thanks," you respond. "I don't think I'm cut out for dancing, but...I've always adored watching others do it. Especially the fancier ones." You let out a sigh.

It may have been a secret wish of yours to find a partner to pull off one of those dances with. Seeing couples move in sync, breathing as if they were one, practically reading each other's minds- it was beautiful. And you dreamed of doing the same. To dance around a fancy ballroom, to spin and glide around the dance floor.

But those dreams could never be obtained, at least not in your home world. Funny how it could be in this one. Or at least this is a start.

"I think you're cut out for it," he replies, voice barely above a whisper as he attempts to praise you. "You're not a natural, but you're better at this compared to when I first started."

"R-Really?"

Your heart flutters in your chest. To hear this come from Riddle makes your heart leap for joy. You give his hand a tight squeeze and consider twirling him around if you wouldn't lose your head for doing so.

"It's thanks to your help though. You're a good teacher. Ah-!" You come to a sudden stop, recalling your original reasoning for meeting him. You needed help with an assignment and asked for his assistance. You claimed not to take up his time and you finally noticed that you took more than you should.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know how late it was..." You tear your hand away from his shoulder and loosen your grasp with your other. Slowly, your hand slips out from his. "Your curfew!"

A gasp escapes you, realizing just how much wrong you've done to him. Perhaps you really will lose your head tonight! Not that it would affect you, but having one of those collars hang around your neck didn't exactly seem pleasant.

In your panic, you don't notice the frown that had fallen upon his face. Your parting from his had left him cold. You'd brought him such a delicate warmth and then stolen it back within an instant. He wants to reach out for your hand and take it once more. But he doesn't know how.

"Prefect."

He calls for your attention, more sternly. Now you really feel like you've done something wrong. A whine escapes you before a thought hits you. He must be reminding you of a rule! But which one? You can feel that one is just begging to be followed. Think. Think. Think.

Oh!

"Thank you for the lesson, Riddle," you say with a slight bow.

You aren't too sure how to go about this. The Queen's rules are strange and one imperfect action could cost your head. But you might as well do what you can while the rule is fresh in your mind. At least, you hope it's the right one.

Treating him like a Queen, you get down onto one knee. You let your hand slip back into his and pull it towards you. Soft lips press against his skin. They brush against the same knuckles you enjoyed feeling earlier.

"P-Prefect?!"

You blink and release his hand, looking up at him.

"Was that incorrect?" You ask, worried. His face was red once more. You couldn't tell if it was from anger or something else. You feared it was the former and decided to prepare yourself for the worst outcome.

But that collar never appears around your neck. It never would.

"No," he breathes, calm. "That is...correct. I simply wasn't expecting you to know what rule #512 is. "If you dance with the Queen after midnight, you must kiss her hand as the final act"."

"I knew it!" You jumped to your feet, cheerfully as if you had learned you got full marks on a test. Then a pause. "There's...no other rule I'm forgetting, is there? I'd hate to break one after all you've done for me."

"There isn't. You're fine with the rules. But, how do you know that one?"

As far as he knows, Trey would be the only one to have an inkling of the majority of the rules in this kingdom. And for you, an outsider, to know this one? It's...surprising.

You wear a sheepish smile as you scratch the back of your head.

"I've just...wanted to learn the rules." For you, you silently add. That addition makes your cheeks flare. Even if you hadn't uttered those words, it feels as if you confessed them aloud. "A-Anyway! I should let you go. The Queen needs his sleep."

You're quick to thank him and gather your things. Everything is shoved into your bag as you nearly race to the door. You find yourself hesitating, not wanting to leave just yet.

"Can we continue tomorrow?" You ask, hopeful.

Riddle looks at you from his position. His gaze had been lingering on the hand you'd gently kissed. His mind had gone into a haze, unable to think clearly. If anyone else were to call for him, he wouldn't have heard them. You were filling his thoughts far too much.

"Lessons start promptly after lunch. I hope to see you then, Prefect."

[five-rivers]

A Kitten in Blinds

AO3

@warvikwrites

.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Danny spoke nervously, “I can explain.”

“Mhm,” said Clockwork, dubiously.  He surveyed the scene calmly.  “I see.  What, exactly, do you imagine this looks like?”

“Um,” said Danny, because he wasn’t actually sure what it did look like from the outside.  Especially not to a being who could see the future, among other things.  

Far above, something went tock and one of the chains wrapped around Danny’s legs moved upward by about a foot, dragging him with it.  

“To me,” said Clockwork, a slight rumble in his voice, “it looks like you went exploring somewhere you didn’t have permission to go, and tangled yourself in the driving chains of Long Now’s central mechanisms.”

“O-oh.  That’s pretty accurate, then,” admitted Danny.  Something went tick and the chain principally responsible for keeping Danny immobile, the one wrapped securely around his arms and torso, dropped, leaving Danny dangling upside-down.  “Can you, um, help me out?”

“I intend to.”  He kept floating there, arms crossed.  

“But?” prompted Danny.  

“I am attempting to determine how to remove you without being forced to sever the chains.  They are not easily replaceable, and as you have no doubt discovered, phasing through them is not possible.”  He paused, growing younger, and added, “Also, out of all the things you could have stumbled upon, this is relatively benign.  Harmless, even.  You could learn a lesson from this.”  

Danny squinted at his mentor.  “You’re leaving something out.”

“Not anything terribly relevant.”

Something above moved again, leaving Danny dangling.  “But there is something else, isn’t there?”

“If you insist.  You look ridiculous.  Like a cat tangled in a set of blinds.”

Danny blushed.  Then blushed harder when one of the chains smacked him in the face.  Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to be a surprise.  A disgruntled and not entirely human sound rose from his chest.  

“How did you get so tangled, in any case?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny. “It was like they grabbed me or something.  

“Interesting,” said Clockwork.  He reached out and pushed Danny slightly so he swung back and forth.  “Hm.”

“That hm is because you’re figuring things out, not because you think I’m stuck-stuck, right?”

“I am simply making an assessment at this juncture.”

“Well,” said Danny, as he was pulled higher.  “That’s– I don’t want to rush you, or anything, but I also really don’t want to get pulled up into the gears and crushed to death.  You’re not going to let that happen, right?  Even to teach me a lesson or whatever?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel,” said Clockwork, obviously somewhat distracted by one of the chain knots in the vicinity of Danny’s ankle.  “Going through the gears wouldn’t kill you.”

“What do you mean, it wouldn’t kill me?”

“Daniel, you are already dead,” said Clockwork, in the vaguely exasperated manner of someone reminding a child or elderly person something for the umpteenth time.  

As a point in fact, Clockwork had pointed out Danny’s life state on a number of occasions.

“Half dead.  And it’d crush me, at least.  I’d be hamburger.”

“You would be fine,” said Clockwork.  “Hamburger and other ground meats are chopped, not crushed.”

“So I’ll just be tenderized, then?”

“You might be changed,” allowed Clockwork, as the chain pulled Danny up again, “but you wouldn’t be harmed.  

Danny was skeptical of that claim.  He’d seen the gears he was being dragged up to.  Small and sharp and huge and heavy were the major features.  

“Genuinely, Daniel.  Long Now likes you.”

“Long Now is a building.”

“Long Now is a lair,” corrected Clockwork.  “You’ve been avoiding the readings Frostbite gave you about ghost culture.”

“Not avoiding them,” said Danny, as Clockwork finally started to pull at the chains.  “I just haven’t had time.”

“But you had time for this?”

“It’s a bit different,” said Danny, defending himself.  “Walking around doesn’t require that much thought.”

“Obviously.  Or else you might have thought twice.”

Danny wilted.  “Sorry.”

Clockwork clicked his tongue.  “You should be.  You’ve made a mess.”  Another loop of chain came off.  “But if you have learned not to go places I have told you not to go, I will take this as a victory and we can leave it at that.  I did not create these rules for no reason, Daniel.”

“I know,” said Danny, “but…”  He trailed off.  How could he explain how curiosity itched at him sometimes, how it pulled at him, how it haunted him?  He imagined, sometimes, that his parents must feel the same way, or else why would they have built the ghost portal in the first place.

“I am aware of your curiosity,” said Clockwork over the clinking of chains.  “But in the future, if you truly cannot contain yourself, ask.  There are many things stored here that are dangerous.  You know this.”

A certain beaten up thermos came to mind.  “Right.  But, um, speaking of that…”

“Yes?”

Danny twisted to look up into the shadowed recesses of the ceiling.  “What would happen if I got pulled into the gears?”

“You would wreak havoc with the calibration,” said Clockwork.  “Throw off all my time-viewers.  It would take quite some time to set them right.”

“I mean… how would I change, exactly?”

A loop of chain slipped from around Danny’s shoulders and hit the underside of his chin.  It didn’t quite wrap all the way around his throat, but it was a near thing.

A Kitten in Blinds

AO3

.

“It is unclear,” said Clockwork before looking Danny in the eye and raising an eyebrow.  He started to grow old.  “The exact consequences of actions are difficult to see, here, in the heart of my power, so close to myself.  To answer your question, you would have to go through with it.  Do you want to?”

“Uh, no,” said Danny.  “I don’t want to be crushed.”

“I didn’t think so,” said Clockwork, gently unwinding the chain from Danny’s neck.  “But considering the topic at hand…”

“Come on,” said Danny.  “I’m not going to get myself killed just to satisfy my curiosity.”

“Daniel.”

“What?”

“Please examine what you just said.”

The blush returned.  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.  “You know that.  I mean, I meant now.  Here.  Whatever.  And there were other circumstances.”

“I am aware.  

“But why are you so sure I’d be fine but changed or whatever?”

“Because of the nature of time.  It destroys, yes, but more accurately, it changes.  Besides, simply because something isn’t clear doesn’t mean it is entirely undetectable.  Can you bend your left leg?”

Danny complied.  

“Everything changes with time.  Some things are broken.  Others are healed.  And Long Now likes you.”  The last loop of chain fell away, but Clockwork grabbed Danny’s ankle before he fell.  “And Daniel?”

“Yeah?” said Danny.  

“Please read the books Frostbite has lent you.  It will make things easier in the future.”

[sam-glade]

My Editing Process 

Part 1/3 - Big Picture Stuff

This is what I do to a novel or a novella before showing it to anyone (including beta readers). I’m posting it in hopes that it will help someone, and I’m not expecting it to work for everyone. Take any parts that help you!

Two things up front:

‘Imperfect’ doesn’t mean ‘bad’. Good writing can have imperfections.

The goal is to get the manuscript to a stage where the imperfections won’t be distracting to beta readers.

Baseline

This is my process for novella- or novel-length projects (so around 40-100k words). I don’t write short stories, so I don’t know how applicable it will be. I’m currently editing Gifts of Fate, trying to shave off a couple of thousand words, and I’ll be pulling examples from it.

I’m a pantser and an overwriter who loves checklists. I know that my early drafts include scenes that explore the characters and the setting, but don’t contribute enough to earn their keep – this isn’t applicable to everyone. I also write in 3rd person multi-POV, hence references to switching POV.

In this project, I also aim for a crisp, direct style, with minimally flowery descriptions.

I start this process when my draft is in the following state:

After I’ve replaced all [[foreshadow this]] and similar comments, added all the skipped segments, etc.

After I let the manuscript rest for a couple of months

When the overall plot is highly unlikely to change. I.e. the sequence of events/plot beats is set in stone. I may consider reframing them or rewriting from someone else’s POV, but I won’t change the direction of the story.

Big-picture stuff first

I can’t stress this enough, do this before you get into the nitty gritty line edits. You don’t want to pore over a chapter for hours, only to realise it has to be cut – and all the effort you put into editing will be thrown away.

The goal of this pass is to bring out the best parts of the story, make the focus crystal clear, and make sure everything gels together.

I make a copy of the manuscript and make sure you have the old one stored away. I often refer back to it, to see if I like how a chapter has changed.

The outline

I write a bare-bones outline, no more than a phrase per 2k words – the shorter the better.

The way I do it is to put that as the title of each chapter – chapters for me tend to average just over 2k words. E.g. in GoF, the first few chapter titles are: ‘The Rupture’, ‘The Sword’, ‘The Cutthroat’, ‘The Sergeant’, [redacted], ‘The Windmill’, ‘The Threat’, ‘The Investigation’, ‘The Plan’. Not catchy, but pinpointing the focus of each.

It’s important that each point corresponds to a similarly sized chunk of text, so that I can spot when there are long sections where not much or too much happens – this will highlight issues with pacing.

If I’m not sure what to put in the title, it’s an indication that it might be one of those meandering, unfocused chapters. I gather a list of those, to pay more attention to them.

It also helps me identify the goal of each chapter. This is the part where I’d consider reframing or even rewriting a chapter from someone else’s POV, if the current structure shifts the focus away from what it’s supposed to be about.

Two examples:

In one chapter, I had a regular POV character (Ianim) check in on the protag’s family, and the protag’s sister (Marta) filled him in on how her magical powers had manifested a few days earlier. The intended goal of the chapter: tell the reader about the powers. What it ended up being: by framing it as a conversation between them, the focus was on their dynamic. Solution: rewrite the chapter from Marta’s POV and present the events that led to her powers manifesting as they happened, rather than retrospectively talking about them.

Later on, the protag (Lissan) is on the run and struggling to survive, while feeling that he should be saving the world, not just himself. He gets a stern talking to from an old man. The intended goal of the chapter: Lissan gets over his dilemma, and makes a decision to save himself, then make the world a better place. What it ended up being: the old man’s backstory stole the spotlight Solution: spend more time on the dilemma, especially before the storytime, and less on the backstory – I want to keep it, because it serves a subplot, but I can shorten it by a few sentences. 

Meandering Chapters

With that done, I read over the manuscript one more time, focusing especially on the chapters identified as meandering, and skipping the ones with clear plot beats. I know events like the big fights, first meetings, etc. definitely won’t be cut.

In my case, a lot of these are consecutive chapters composed of 2-3 vignettes, which come up when characters spend a period of time in one place, e.g. taking time to train or make preparations. They’ll be composed of scenes with low-stake actions, some exposition, and some exploration of characters and their dynamics. I want this project to be a fairly fast-paced fantasy adventure, but these slice-of-life scenes slowed down pacing too much. They are usually identified as meandering, since each scene/vignette has its own goal, but they aren’t strung together.

I Marie Kondo the hell out of them. I list what’s the purpose of each scene, and what I lose if I cut them out – this can be a mental exercise. Will cutting each one in turn leave the reader confused? Sometimes, all the reader is losing is an additional bit of characterisation. This is how I discovered I had two chapters showing the same two characters spar, each from one of their POVs, and the only purpose the first one fulfilled was to show that one of the characters didn’t like cold weather. Yep, that got cut.

Then, anything that's set up but doesn't have a pay off UNLESS it's a deliberate red herring. The length of the set up should be proportional to how crucial to the main plot is the pay off.

E.g. I had two conversations where in the first one the protag was told that demons react to the colour red, and in the next one he found a red ribbon to put on his Sword. And that was the last mention of it. The first mention stayed as flavour, the second conversation got cut.

And I know I need the red ribbon there in the second book of the trilogy, but it really can appear closer to when it's needed – i.e. in the second book. In general, I'm weeding out set up for later instalments which are easy to forget.

Repetitive Chapter Structure

I group chapters by structure, especially paying attention to the cases when:

Characters sit around discussing a plan, with the dialogue being a civil discussion all the way through. I know I have a tendency to do exposition through pages of dialogue. I don't want to have more than 2-3 of these across 50 chapters, and I want them spaced out.

A character fills others in on events they don’t know about. This can be either 'you weren't around when this happened to me' or 'this is a legend you (and especially the reader) needs to know, to understand the rest of the story'. I want to make sure there’s at most 1 of these in my novel.

How many of each you want in your manuscript, depends on its length and genre – I’m going for a fantasy adventure with a fair bit of action, so I cut down on the dialogue-heavy or research chapters, in favour of action scenes.

If in either of these categories I have more than what I want, I try to change the setting, or sprinkle in some action – for example, talking while doing shopping or renovating a house. Sometimes, a large chunk of the conversation can be skipped with a 3-5 sentence summary paragraph – and yes, in cases like this exposition might be the lesser of two evils. I also make sure the similar chapters are spaced out, with a change of pacing or setting between them.

This is where I stop tinkering with the story on my own – if I go on further, I don’t have the confidence that my changes are making it any better.

Part 2: Ctrl+F'ing the manuscript

Requested tag: @galactic-mystics-writes

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #27)

Happy March everyone!

Chapter #27. Natalie discovers why Alexander has summoned her home so quickly.

Previous: Chapter #26

Next: Chapter #28

Word Count: 5,700 Read Time: Approx. 44 mins

CW: adult language, angst 

Tag list: @gatlily @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 , @honey-olive , @bittykimmy13 , @aceouttatime , @imvenusasaboy , @liminaldaze , @windshield-patent , @joxter-coded , @rosella35 , @narrans , @rubeau-art , @littlescaryinternetguy , @jae-from-discord , @kitn-underfoot , @secretly-small @writing-forever , @iinogongju , @tales-of-aestus-deactivated2023 , @itsgothgirlthyme , @make-me-giant , @reborrowing , @whatthisfemsheplikes

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

___________________________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #27: A Balm for the Mind

[Natalie’s POV]

I tore across my living room, ducked through the kitchen and raced down the short hallway to my bedroom door, before thrusting it open and practically tripping on the corner of my dresser, I finally managed to shove the bathroom door aside. As I pushed at the barrier separating me from the tiny man in my sink, I couldn’t help but feel a catch in my throat as fear trickled down my spine.

“A-Alexander? Are you there? Are you hurt? Are you okay? What was the big emergency? What do you need??” The words were pouring out of my mouth like a dam bursting forth, uncontrollable and overwhelming.

As I whipped around the corner, I heard him before I laid eyes on him. He didn’t miss a beat and the second I started shouting, he matched me with equal fervor, although the poor thing could never hope to match me in volume, “It’s about time, Natalie! Where were you??” That’s when my panicked gaze locked on to those familiar, tiny, blue eyes. There he was perfectly safe; this little life wading in the shallow pool of water in my sink basin. His left knee was bent, and tucked into his chest. His hair was wet, the roots darker than normal, as his locks stuck to his skull in an unkempt way, falling in tendrils into his eyes. He seemed… perfectly fine.

There was no blood, no scene of chaos, no cat, no disturbance of any kind, “Alexander what the fuck?? Is this your sick attempt at a joke?? I almost killed like three people just to get back—“

He cut me off with a hurried gesture before placing his index finger over his lips, and pointing at the ceiling with his other hand. His eyes followed the trajectory of the point. Was this part of the joke? Was he trying to scare me? I opened my mouth to demand an answer when he hurriedly shushed me. I stood there, baffled, utterly confused and beginning to get pretty ticked off, when it happened.

The sound was instantly recognizable: sharp, piercing, blunt. It was the chirp of the smoke detector begging for a battery swap. The disturbance made Alexander’s shoulders twitch as he immediately recoiled, groaning, as if at the end of his rope.

“…. Okay? Is, is that it?” Surely there was something I was missing here.

He leaned forward, rippling the water around him as he raised his brows, an utterly incredulous look on his face, “What do you mean ‘is that it’?? Do you have ears?? It’s grating! Did you not get my texts??—“ he was off on a tangent, but I couldn’t help the steam rising in my ears.

“Alexander!” That was a bit more forceful than I’d intended. He shut up, but flames still burned behind his eyes, “You made me lose my goddamn mind and literally almost murder someone, not to mention the copious traffic violations or the fact that my car is blocking a one way alley right now, because you had to listen to a mildly annoying sound for a few minutes??”

“First of all, Natalie, it started going off almost the moment you left. I’ve been suffering for nearly an hour at this point. Additionally, for both our sakes, I was attempting memory recall in regards to the vet, but that became instantaneously impossible the moment that godforsaken machine started its repetitive screech. I’ve got a splitting headache, I’m dehydrated, the water’s bone-chillingly cold and you forgot to give me any medication before you left on your oh-so-important errands so I am in rather significant pain. So please, please tell me, at the very least, you got the 9 volt battery I asked for and that you’ll save my auditory receptors from any more damage today.”

The poor little man had to shout over every one of those piercing chirps. I furrowed my brow and pouted my lip, “Oh! Oh you poor thing! I didn’t realize! Forty five whole minutes of pure agony, huh?” I placed my hand over my heart in mock concern. He was so absorbed in his own pity party he didn’t even realize I was being sarcastic.

“Yes! Yes!! It was truly awful. I sent an array of messages with detailed instructions…”

“And on top of all that, the water’s all cold and you weren’t even able to relax…”

“Precisely! I’m so glad you see it— wait—“ his eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest, “You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“The little scholar cracks the case!” I shouldered the door frame, sporting a self-satisfied smile.

The little man rolled his eyes, leaning his back against the sink basin, “Natalie, please, you’ve put me through enough. Don’t pour salt in the wound.”

“I’ve put you—?? Little bastard, how many times do I have to emphasize I almost ran over a little old lady to get back here just for you to be a whiny bitch about a minor inconvenience?!”

“Well you don’t have to be so hyperbolic about it! You’re embarrassing yourself—”

I couldn’t help but raise my brow, “I genuinely wonder, sometimes, wether you can hear yourself speak…”

He sighed, catching my gaze, “The alarm… please. I’m about to jump out of my skin. And… well, I can’t exactly get it myself…” he broke eye contact and craned his neck to the ceiling far above his little frame.

“I should let it chirp all night. All it would take is a pair of earplugs and I’d be blissfully unaware.”

If looks could kill…

For someone who could barely wrap himself around my thumb, he could serve up quite the threatening glare. We locked off for a while, neither of us giving ground.

Finally, I shook my head. Who was I kidding? I let my shoulders drop from my ears. I couldn’t say no to him. If anyone was wrapped up, it was me around his tiny finger. You’re lucky I like you, little nightmare.

I approached the sink, he was still stiff and skeptical, unsure if he’d won this battle. I dipped my hand into the water, which, in his defense, was rather cold, “Come here… let’s get you warmed up…” My thumb moved to cover his chest, while my fingers curled around his back. He opened his mouth to speak, resisting my grip with tiny but determined hands, “… and I’ll get the alarm, just give me a second. I can’t do two things at once…” his lips pressed into a thin line at that. At least he finally shut up for just a second!

The pads of my fingers squeezed around his shivering torso, as I lifted him easily into the air. He gripped the pad of my thumb, wet hair in his eyes. I quickly met the left side of his body with my opposite hand, clutching a washcloth. He hadn’t quite managed a full on thank you, but I heard a little murmur of delight escape his lips when the warmth of my hands and the towel started to thaw him out. I couldn’t help it, even after he’d just pissed me off five seconds ago, I couldn’t keep myself from brushing his hair aside with the tip of my thumb. He could feel my gaze on him and the touch caught his attention enough to look up at me.

At almost the same instant that his clear, blue irises locked with my golden-green ones, his little face flushed with color and he suddenly seemed to find the countertop far beneath his feet to be a significantly more interesting subject to stare at. I, too, felt my temperature rise as I was compelled to work on the alarm and let the little man be by himself for a moment. He said not a word and neither did I. Setting him down in a bundle of fabric on the counter, I clamored up, one foot on the lip of the bathtub, the other on the closed lid of the toilet, “You happy, Your Majesty? I’m finally completing your Royal decree!” I shouted over a chirp which was now very much in my ear and made my head buzz.

He leaned forward, his left shoulder exposed, his palm flat against the cool surface of the countertop. He was watching me intently, “Are you sure that’s the safest way to do that?” Was that concern I heard in his tiny voice?

“Ahh, sure, I’ve done it like this a bunch of times. I don’t own a step-stool and I’m never gonna manage to fit a chair in here so… this is fine…” I turned my attention to fidgeting with the grey plastic circle with its blinking LED light and awful noise making. I managed to pull it from the ceiling with an easy twist and pinch on each side, but as I went to shift my weight to jump down, my foot pressed into the rounded curve of the bathtub, slipped, and I lost my balance.

“Natalie!” A little bundle of fabric jerked forward, arm outstretched. In the next heartbeat, I caught myself, gripping the counter in front of me and stopping my fall. We locked eyes for a moment before I hopped down.

When my feet returned to steady ground, I ripped the dead battery from the inner compartment of the smoke detector. During this, he’d settled back down, his good leg dangling over the cliff’s edge that was the lip of the counter. I placed the now, thankfully, silent hunk of plastic beside the sink and kneeled down, resting my chin in my hands, gazing at the back of a tiny, wet mess of blonde hair. After a few moments of silence, he turned over his shoulder, irritated, “What???”

“Don’t play dumb with me… you know what…”

He immediately turned away again, running fingers through his wet locks, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…” he practically mumbled into the fabric. I slid my finger across his sternum, hooking his chin and pulling his face towards me. He was flushed bright pink. I melted a little.

“What was that? You have to speak up…” he shoved at my finger, shaking his head and trying his damndest to hide his blush, I continued, a smile blossoming across my face, “You were worried about me! You give a shit, don’t you? All this stone cold bullshit? It’s an act and I’ve finally caught you red handed. You do have a heart in there after all….” I prodded his little chest, he rocked back and immediately batted at my finger, his brow furrowing and his lips tightening as he snarled. I was unfazed, I had him right where I wanted him, “You actually cared! It was all over your face! You, like, reached out and everything! Little cold-hearted grumpy man cares about this big dumb human!”

“I was not! I… I don’t! Well, I mean— You just frightened me, is all, I-I thought you were going to fall right on top of me!”

*****

She wasn’t letting go of this easily was she? How irritatingly predictable. Humans. They never could resist a chance to tease us if they got the opportunity, it seemed. Her gaze was inescapable, those warm, golden eyes sparkling with mischief. My face and chest felt hot… she beamed as she took in another breath, no doubt to continue this relentless game, when there was a sudden commotion outside.

The sound of a car horn blaring in long, irritating bursts and the voice of a human male shouting something incomprehensible but no doubt, angry, ricocheted through the walls.

“Shit! My car! I’m blocking someone in… hold on, I’ll be right back, okay? Dry yourself off. I’ve got something for you when I come back… even though you kinda don’t deserve it now for being a dramatic little dick a few minutes ago…” She rose as she spoke, crossing the cavern of space between the counter and the threshold in the blink of an eye.

“I was not—“ she disappeared beyond the threshold, paying my response no mind. I heard the jangle of keys being snatched up, as I shouted as loudly as I was capable, “Don’t call me a dick! It’s neither accurate nor sophisticated!” Her footsteps faded down the hall. Alone again.

I sat for a few moments in the blissfully quiet bathroom, my left leg bouncing against the counter’s edge. My better judgment told me not to lean too far over the edge. The drop was much too dangerous for me. I busied myself with wiping the beads of water from my skin. Some so big, I could pick them up in my hands and they’d keep their shape. I squeezed the moisture from my hair and had just about freed my right leg from the suffocating mess of cling wrap it was trapped in, when the tranquil quiet of this cramped, yet cavernous bathroom was broken.

I heard the slam of a car door, sounds of a man’s voice, then, a woman’s, even more argumentative and certainly louder than him. I cracked a smile. What a strange creature that human was. Next was the sound of car tires on gravel, then another honk and I swear I could hear “Fuck you, asshole!” In an enraged female voice. As the sounds of the quick-lived altercation faded from earshot, I pulled the cloth around myself, keenly aware of my nudity in this chilly bathroom. She’d plucked me up, with a sort of familiar nonchalance of picking up a toothbrush or a favorite pencil.

I found myself wondering for the very first time just what she thought of me. What kept her looking after me? I half expected any other human would have tossed me out a long time ago. Why hadn’t she given up? Maybe something really was psychologically wrong with her. It wouldn’t be a giant leap. It would certainly explain her wildly oscillating emotionality.

She’d said she had something for me, right before she left. I couldn’t imagine what that might be. I prayed to nothing in particular that it wasn’t another godforsaken polyester glittery nightmare shirt. Or some similar humiliation. I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to sink my teeth as hard as I could into the softest part of her flesh I could find if that were the case.

Still, it wasn’t possible her errands had been on my behalf, was it? Surely not. I remembered back to the first time I’d stood on this counter, stripped naked, shivering and soaked from a bath, and she’d insisted I wear that unicorn covered tie-dye embarrassment. She’d balked at my request for respectable clothes, then. Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t seemed keen to spend money on me at all. Well, that was out of the question.

So, food then? If so, the timing was right, I was half starved and in need of a round of medication. No more time to ponder, however, because the sounds of a door opening and slamming told me she’d soon stand before me to carry me to the next unknown adventure.

“… Son of a fucking bitch!” Yes, that was Natalie alright, always such… sophisticated… language. I heard the sound of something settling on a surface just outside the door and then there she was, standing…. Well, more like towering, before me. I leaned back on my elbow to see her better, as she blustered, “That guy was such a fucking asshole…” a palm came to rest a few inches from my left side.

“Well, you were committing a traffic violation, weren’t you?? I think he had some justification for responding in a negative—“

“Nope. No. Shut your face. Shut it right now. I’m trying to do something nice for you, don’t say another word or I’ll change my mind.” She hovered a finger over my chest, I scowled, but, nevertheless acquiesced to her desires. I went silent and pressed my lips into a thin line. I never took kindly to being told what to do, but I understood after the smoke detector debacle, I could stand to give her a little ground. She suddenly sighed, as if she’d been holding her breath, “Oh my god! I can’t believe that actually worked! Guilt tripping can really be an effective tool when dealing with an Alexander; noted!”

I rolled my eyes as heavily as I could while her fingers pressed gently into my back and she lifted me off the counter. She balanced my injured leg along the length of her pinky as her thumb pressed the fabric of the washcloth against my sternum. I had to give her credit, she was getting quite good at handling me gently. She hardly ever gave me whiplash from moving me too quickly or bruised my skin with too much pressure between her fingers. My heart didn’t drop to my stomach every time her hands came near. What a relief to my cardiovascular system.

I peered up, seeking some sort of hint as to what was coming next in those bright eyes. I loathed surprises. If a human told you they had a surprise for you, it was often some fresh form of humiliation or torture for their own pathetic amusement. And yet, despite the instinctual alarm bell ringing at the base of my skull, some other part of me dared to believe this was something good. Not a smart move to set yourself up for disappointment, Alexander. Yet, even as I chastised my own train of thought, a glimmer of hope remained. Maybe, just this once, I’d accrued enough karmic positivity or whatever forces of the universe were out there, to get something good coming back to me.

Gingerly, she sat me down on her dresser as she leaned back on the corner of her bed, directly across from me. To my left was some sort of plastic shopping bag, looking bulky and misshapen from the contents inside. I returned my gaze to her eyes, questioning, curious. She beamed down at me, clearly excited, “Okay, okay. Close your eyes—“

“Why? This isn’t some sort of payback for earlier is it?” I crossed my arms.

“No! Just… c’mon just close your eyes!” She groaned and rolled her own.

“I don’t know—“

“Dammit, little man! Let me have this! I’m trying to make this fun,” she leaned in, her chin resting on the silky, wood grain, her fingers closing in to sweep my hair from my face and rest lightly on my exposed, bare shoulder. I felt the heat rising in my chest again, just as it had earlier when she’d held me, “No more grumpy Alexander. Please? Let’s have a good day, okay? You deserve something nice. After all you’ve been through. Trust me. Will you trust me for five seconds?”

I swallowed. She was being genuine, I could tell. She’d gone out of her way, for me? “F-fine. Okay. Yes.” She broke into another sparkling grin, her eyes alight with the giddiness of a child. Her enthusiasm was infectious, I was suddenly abuzz with anticipation.

“Well?” She seemed rather impatient.

“Well, what??” I jumped, wondering if I’d stared at her just a bit too long. Before I had a chance to comprehend the situation further, the pad of an index finger was coming straight for my face, with all its unique swirls on the pad coming into crystal clear focus before blurring as she swiped down from my brow, along the bridge of my nose.

“Close your damn eyes, Alexander!” She giggled, exasperated.

Her touch tickled and warmed me at the same time. It was about the width of my whole head, after all, “Right! Yes! S-sorry.” I sealed my eyes shut as I listened to the rustle of plastic and crinkle of… paper? It sounded like she was unwrapping something.

My heart thrummed against my chest. I didn’t want to come across as some naive little fool, but… I’d never exactly been given presents like this before. Certainly, I’d been given clothing and some necessities but not without earning them first. I’d never been given something for nothing. There was a clatter of the mystery item settling on the dresser top. Something hard, and lightweight, just to my left.

“Ta-da! You can look now…”

When I opened my eyes, I saw two pieces of furniture before me. Closest was a cherry stained, swivel desk chair, with curved armrests and an upholstered seat made of rich, green leather, and just beyond that, a desk, stained the same, with gold pulls on the drawers. I couldn’t quite see the desktop from my downward angle on the floor. But these were unlike any furniture items I’d ever seen: these were scaled to me. I blinked rapidly, swiveling my head between these two objects and the hazel irises that were trained on me. My brow twitched and furrowed.

“Well? What do you think?” She was hungry for my response, her face flushed, eyes wide.

I couldn’t help but shrink back, “You can’t be serious. These… they can’t be for me…”

“You see any other little scholars standing at about five inches around here? Cuz I don’t…” she made ridiculous motions of peering around the room with her outstretched hand shielding her brow.

I couldn’t help cracking a smile before shaking my head, “N-Natalie…”

She wouldn’t even let me finish, before leaning down, “Here, you want a closer look? Come here, test it out for yourself. Let’s see if it gets the Little Nightmare seal of approval. Can I pick you up?”

I nodded slightly, a little dazed as her fingers wrapped around my middle and I found myself settling into the chair. My spine went board-straight as I breathlessly slid my hand across the upholstered, leather surface of the desk. It had a small embossed inlay of diamonds that gave it a beautiful oscillating pattern in the center.

In spite of myself, I felt my throat suddenly tighten as my brow furrowed deeply. I gripped the edge of the desk with all might, staring daggers into its surface until my shoulders started to tremble.

She shuffled close, her left palm cupping around where I sat, “Alexander? Hey…. Hey, what's wrong? Do you hate it? Did I do something wrong? You don’t have to like it, you can be honest with me…”

As I turned to face her, my image of those eyes clouded with worry, was obscured almost entirely with tears I couldn’t hold back, despite my best efforts, “I… I’ve never… I’ve never sat in a chair… before…”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“It’s beautiful, Natalie. It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you. Deeply, truly, thank you. I can really have this?” I’m embarrassed to say my lip trembled.

She smiled as her own eyes grew misty, “Again, do you see any other little men around here to compete with? Let me know if you do… maybe the next one I bring home will be sweeter!”

“I keep you line, that’s more practical than being sweet! You’ll appreciate me in the long run.” I took the much needed reprieve from the heavy moment to quickly wipe my eyes and shake off my emotions. She laughed at that, and groaned.

“You’re nothing if not true to your brand, huh? Well, listen, you can’t get all emotional about every one of these things, cuz I still have a whole bag of goodies for you. If you cry, then I’ll cry and then we will be here all night.” I ran my fingers along the polished wood of the arm rests, tracing its curvature, but what she said broke me from my trance and made me whip my gaze upwards.

“Wait.. there’s more??” I was genuinely baffled.

“Ha! Straight out of an informercial!” She stood to fetch something else from the bag as she spoke.

“An info-what?”

“How the fuck do you know how hydrogen peroxide reacts to tissue but you don’t know what an informercial is?”

I shrugged, “I can’t know everything! I’d become far too powerful for humankind to handle!”

“Little Nightmare, you’re already too much for humankind to handle, that’s why you got stuck with me. I think I must’ve sinned a lot in a past life or something. Okay, what’s next? Ahh, here we go…” she made a sort of trumpet fanfare with her lips before ripping away paper and placing another furniture item down, this time to my right. My heart skipped a beat as I took it in: a bed. It had a simple enough wooden frame and a garish pattern of red and blue flowers dotting the comforter, but it was a proper bed, nonetheless. I could let the eyesore go for now. Wheeling myself over to its edge, careful to keep the heel of my injured leg upright, I hopped from the seat of the chair to the mattress in one fell swoop, still clutching the towel around my otherwise naked body and reclined back, luxuriously.

“I bet you’re delighted. Now you can finally get some sleep in peace without some giant bitch hovering over you or touching you all the time. I know, it’s a dream come true. You’re welcome.” She propped her head up on her hand as she smiled teasingly.

“Natalie, you and I both know this will not deter you from swooping in unnecessarily close to my personal space at all times. I get no reprieve whatsoever.”

“You poor thing. You’re truly in hell, aren’t you? Is it comfortable?”

“Yes, actually. I’d assumed it’d be filled with lumps of polyester judging by the hideous covers, but it’s surprisingly firm and supportive.” Oops, I hadn’t meant to be entirely honest with her…. My mistake.

“Awww, I thought the flowers were cute… oh well. I can sew you something else you like better, later…” for a petulant human, she took my criticism surprisingly well. During the next few minutes she pulled out all sorts of other gifts: a mirror, a wardrobe, towels, my very own toothbrush, a razor, other hygiene products in impressively detailed bottles with fully printed labels that imitated their human counterparts perfectly. I felt a swelling my chest as she showed me item after item. She’d gone above and beyond. I felt utterly spoiled.

Finally, she revealed the last piece to this extraordinary puzzle was new clothes. I could’ve jumped for joy, except, of course, I’d never degrade myself to such a degree. The moment she told me, I could already feel the smart cut of tailored slacks, the comfortable embrace of a woolen waistcoat beneath a fine suit jacket, my collar buttoned all the way and adorned with a perfectly presented tie. I loved the elegance of a fine set of gentleman’s clothes. It may have been the one thing the old man and I could agree on. After all this time of wearing that humiliating smock, which barely managed to cover my manhood, I absolutely craved the comfort and security of three layers of sophisticated fashion. She’d instructed me to close my eyes once again, which I did without resistance, this time. As I sat on the edge of the bed, my right leg propped up in the desk chair, I could feel the heat and movement of her fingers as she presumably placed my new wardrobe next to me on the bedspread. I was beside myself with glee, I couldn’t wait to see what wonderful clothes were lying in wait.

Then, I opened my eyes.

Oh.

What surrounded me were clothes small enough to fit me, yes, but they weren’t at all what I was expecting. I spotted one pair of baggy slacks and and an uninspired sky blue button down but beyond that, it looked like sweatpants, t-shirts and hoodies galore.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Her voice, up above, made me jump.

“Nothing! Nothing at all! They’re— great. Thank you.” I wore a perhaps too-eager smile.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re not getting away with that, little mister. You’re a terrible liar. What’s the problem?” Natalie had no interest in playing games, it seemed.

“It’s fine, really… it’s just…” I tried my best to sell my non-existent enthusiasm.

“It’s just?? What??”

“… I’m just used to something more… sophisticated. I’m most comfortable in a suit. I wore a suit everyday, before…”

She burst out laughing, my face burned hot, “Alexander… you’ve got one working leg at the moment and you’re just going to be sitting around the house for the foreseeable future. What in the flying fuck do you need a full on suit for?”

“You asked! Don’t complain when you get the answer you demanded! Besides, I don’t judge you for dressing in a monotonous variety of barely socially acceptable forms of pajamas everyday, don’t judge me for wanting a little elegance in my appearance! Despite how you found me, I’ve been known to maintain meticulous grooming. Unlike you, I get a sense of pride out of being put together. I just haven’t had much luck of it since you decided it would be just hilarious to dress me up like one of your dolls. I apologize if I’m looking for a bit more class than that nightmare you put me through.”

She threw her hands up, “Jesus fucking Christ, I get it. Well you’ll just have to suffer through wearing this trash until I can afford to get His Majesty what he truly deserves. Mea Fucking culpa. Can you at least languish in these rags for peasants long enough for me to go cook you dinner, Your Highness?”

My stomach dropped. I felt awful. Here she’d done all these wonderful things for me and I’d turned around and coldly insulted her. I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Natalie…”

“No no, save it. You’re right, as always. I got what I asked for.”

“Natalie, please…” I opened my arms wide, beckoning for her. She hesitated, her mouth turned down, her lips tense. I gestured again, “Give me your hand?” She threw her gaze askance and offered me her outstretched fingers. Landing on my good leg, I threw myself off the bed and embraced her pointer finger with both arms, bouncing and wobbling on my left foot as my little weight shifted her hand slightly. She hadn’t expected that, clearly, “I was a dick just now. A terrible, selfish, disgusting, unwashed, detestable, overly dramatic dick—“

A ghost of a smile played on her lips as I craned my neck upwards to catch her gaze, “Ew…” she muttered. I continued, unperturbed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m extraordinarily grateful for all of this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With that I laid my cheek on the side of her finger, flashing my eyes up at her through my lashes.

She scrunched her nose, cheeks turning pink, “Stop it! Stop being all cute when I’m mad at you! It’s not fair. You can’t cut me to the fucking quick and then bat those pretty blue eyes at me and have me right back. That’s manipulative! You’re a little master of manipulation, you know that, you little devious bastard??”

Normally, I’d take issue with being called cute, but right now it was working in my favor, “Thank you, sincerely, for everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m on to you. Put some clothes on and I’ll see you in a minute.” She was smiling, at least a little, now, and that made my shoulders relax. With that, she gingerly lifted me under my arms and placed me back on the edge of the bed, “Oh, wait. You’ll need some help with that leg won’t you?” My inability to bend it would make it impossible to put on underwear or pants, without assistance, “Oh relax, don’t get all huffy, I’m not going to dress you, or anything, here…” In one swift movement, she eased open a shallow center drawer in her dresser and produced a pair of tweezers, just about the length of my leg. They were a perfect grappling arm to extend my reach, “Okay, now I’m outta here. Try to behave yourself for the next 30 minutes, please? I can’t take any more Alexandering all over the place today. You’ve frayed my nerves to their absolute breaking point.” I nodded in earnest, as she stood and headed for the kitchen. I thought about thanking her again, but by the time I got the courage to speak she was already gone behind the partially closed door.

I sat in silence for a moment, looking over the bounty of things that were now mine. My chest swelled. Before I got too emotionally compromised, I turned my attention to getting dressed.

Since my right leg couldn’t bend, I pinched the right side of a pair of navy boxer briefs between the two metal clamps, and held the far end of the tweezers under my arm, this allowed me to reach and slide my ankle through the garment without risking injury. It was the perfect solution and I was deeply relieved to be able to do it myself. I deeply loathed being dressed by clumsy human fingers and it had happened far too often with the overly condescending nurses in the old man’s final years, Thank you, Natalie, for keeping my dignity in tact.

With the aide of the tweezers, I managed to adorn myself with underwear and a pair of unsophisticated charcoal grey sweatpants with only minor strain. I looked about myself, weighing my meager options and decided on a similarly gray hoodie, sighing and sliding it on. Despite the all too casual feel and fit of the fabric, it was nice to finally be covered again. Feeling another pang of guilt for even thinking along those lines, I scooted myself over to the mirror with the aide of the desk chair on wheels. Maybe I’d look better than I felt. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Gripping onto the beveled wooden edge at the base of the mirror, I stood, with imperfect balance as I came face to face with my own reflection.

What I saw staring back at me made my breath catch: printed across the chest of the hoodie in crimson lettering were the words Harvard Law, complete with the shield-like crest of red and gold.

My heart beat faster as tears welled in my eyes. She’d bought me an actual Harvard Law sweatshirt? I clutched a fistful of fabric. Natalie, you’re not so bad after all, are you?

With newfound determination to be less of a dramatic dick (a characterization I still wasn’t convinced was at all applicable) I awaited her return, reclining comfortably on my new bed. Perhaps shutting my eyes for just moment wouldn’t hurt either…. It’d been a rather exhausting day, for both of us, after all.