#She was supposed to be a maid how did this get so outta hand this man is FERAL

[cozyfaee]

SIR 👀😳 The way my hand was over my mouth while reading this like I was STUNNED

[starlit-dreaming]

ITBOMM Extras/Drafts + Announcement

Fandom: WMMAP Rating: G Ship: Eventual Lucathy, Felily, Calena, and more Note: the Twin Sibling AU that i tried so hard not to write, but i DID, so naturally i have to call myself out for writing it. will be cross-posted on ao3 and wattpad under the same title

A/N: oof this chapter kinda ran outta my hands and went from 4k to 5k+ lmao i also sort of just glossed over some details, but i’ll eventually go a little more in-depth at a later time

Arc 1: Beginning of the End 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Arc 2: Of Princes and Villainesses 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Side Story: maybe, i’m afraid (verena/athanasios) 1 | 2

[Extras/Rewrite Announcement]

A/N:

Long time since my last update, and I will apologize for that since I didn't expect it to have been that long since then lmao

I've been rewriting ITBOMM!!!!!!

The reason for this is because there's a lot of scenes that I wanted to write, and a lot of storybuilding that I didn't have back then that I do now. There's a lot of interactions that I never got to write out prior to the timeskips, and there's a lot of relationships I'd like to better establish instead of just tossing everyone into the scenes in one chapter.

I'll be posting the rewrite under a new story as "re: in the back of my mind" and I'll be changing the title of this fic to ITBOMM. I'll be posting extra scenes, my outline, etc here, and mark it as complete.

CW: There is a scene where someone commits suicide. For those who wish to avoid it, I will be marking it as *** and ending the scene with the same marking. It isn't explicit and detailed, but I will still be marking it.

————————————————————

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear — or so the saying goes. He didn’t expect Odysseus to actually start attending their music lessons together, but he supposes that it doesn’t actually matter in the end. It should be a blessing in disguise, since it meant he could get to know the kid and regain some memories.

Should be, in theory.

Rather, what matters is how awkward Athanase feels when it comes to hanging out with a future anti-monarchy revolutionary leader, since his mother had stepped out of the room for several minutes. If you don’t see the issue with this, then allow me to paint the problem:

They were alone together. A member of the monarch’s family, and a future anti-monarch revolutionary.

“What did Your Highness say to make Lady Durk cry?” Odysseus had asked after a short while of silence. He seemed curious, despite his blank stare and monotone voice. Maybe he was just as bored as Athanase is, since they were both reading music scores and doing nothing but reviewing what they had just gone over while Countess Nightingale was out discussing something with Felix.

It was naïve of Athanase to think that nobody would’ve found out about Autumn. Felix was one thing, but if anyone else saw her crying, they’d think he was turning out to be more like his father, maybe. They knew Felix would keep his mouth shut, but if it were anyone else who saw her cry, word would spread like fire. For both of their sakes, he hoped she got away without being seen, but apparently not.

Still… it could’ve been worse. Odysseus was asking in a one on one conversation, without anyone else. Countess Nightingale didn’t seem like a blabbermouth, and the maids value their own life to gossip about the Imperial Prince’s playmate with other nobles around.

So that limited the amount of people who saw. Maybe Irene saw the crying and decided to get her brother to pry into the matter? It made sense…

At least it wasn’t his father — he’d probably ask if Athan found her to be a displeasing friend.

“Huh?” He blinked owlishly, trying to look as confused as he hoped he did. “What’re you talking about, Sir Odysseus? Why would big sis Verena cry?”

Athan was pretty fucking adorable — he knew this and was confident about this fact. He and Athy were blessed with damn good genes. Maybe, on a very slim chance, Odysseus would think he’s a cute and harmless person and that Autumn didn’t actually cry because of him.

“Hmm.”

Maybe his adoration for Ferdie was too strong. How the hell could anyone remain indifferent to his cute face?

. . .

Ah, he spoke too soon, Athanase thought, his eyes noticing the slightest red hue gracing Odysseus’ cheeks. The boy in question simply looked away as he muttered under his breath.

“Well… deserved…”

…?

Did he just scoff? His eyes had looked away, but Athanase could sense that there was a hint of scorn in his muttered voice. He was curious about what Odysseus actually said, but…

If he didn’t know any better, it sounded an awful lot like…

No, it couldn’t be.

Odysseus may be OOC for a character in Toska, but he was still a kid. Granted, no kids to his memories were ever really polite and cordial for the most part, but this was a world with a nobility setting.

(“Would you call me crazy, if I told you that I went back in time?” or so implies whatever character in a cliché rofan manhwa scenario.

Athanase waves the thought away.)

“I don’t know what you think might’ve happened, Sir Odysseus,” Athanase simply smiled. “Care to share your thoughts?”

“Ah, it was simply my imagination, Your Highness,” Odysseus politely responded with an obviously fake smile attached with the false pleasantries. “Forgive me for misunderstanding what happened. I was rather concerned if Lady Durk offended the Imperial Family.”

The way Odysseus apologized felt as if he were mocking him, especially with that twinkle in his eyes. He seemed greatly amused, actually. And it sounded like he himself saw her cry.

Maybe he wanted to know if his “rival” was out of the picture. Or miserable, depending on who he’s obsessed with.

Athan wanted none of Odysseus’ drama-starting shit.

‘He’s more of a brat than I thought,’ Athan absentmindedly thought, instead opting to refocus on his music sheet.

——————————

He could feel eyes staring at him, bearing into his soul.

A glance up, with a smile on his face, he sees his father, looking at him from where he sat at the dining table. Judging by the fact that Athy was nowhere to be seen, it was just Athan who arrived early.

“Good morning, papa!” Athan greeted sweetly, giving him a proper bow before moving to take his seat.

When he sits down he notices his father staring at him. Despite seeming expressionless, he couldn’t help but sense an unspoken displeasure.

Strange, did Athan do something wrong?

‘Maybe he just hates seeing my face as opposed to Athy,’ Athan absentmindedly thought, feeling a pang of bitter disappointment. It was hard not to hate his sister, even though she hadn’t done a damn thing.

The doors open up and in walks Felix holding Athanasia, who he promptly lets down after a glare from his father. He watches her dart around the table, the slightest blur of blonde heading towards their father, giving the man in question a hug.

Huh. When did Athy start getting so affectionate with him?

——————————

Interacting with Athy is, to put it bluntly, weird.

The realization that the original Athanasios hated his older sister made it hard to think of her as the same dumbass sister he cared about. On top of that, the loss of his twin telepathy made it difficult for him to understand her thought process now as if they were strangers. Knowing her, she was probably screeching profanities at him for ignoring her, since she didn’t know what was happening.

Her thoughts were always so loud, too…

Losing the telepathy was a huge blow, because now it left them with only one faucet of their personalities. He had a role to play as a sweet and gentle musician genius, while Athy was a cheerful and friendly prodigy who enjoyed learning. Their telepathy allowed them to just be two young adults in the same unfortunate circumstance.

But, he didn’t want to reconcile with her, if he had to be honest. It was necessary for the sake of convenience, yes, but unwanted.

Unlike him, Athanasia was “complete” in his eyes. She wasn’t burdened by lack of memories, she wasn’t shackled with comparisons purely by being recognized as a genius. Maybe she was the golden child, favoured by looking the most and acting like their mother.

His sister was not controlled by her memories and lack thereof. Not like he was, with his obsession with memories.

Even so, their conversation was inevitable.

He knew it was, and with most of his memories all over the place, he just didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about his lack of memories would only invite questions that he couldn’t answer, questions that he himself wasn’t ready to hear.

‘She doesn’t need to know that this is my third life,’ he concludes, ‘But I’ll tell her about Autumn, otherwise she’ll be too wary of her being so close to me. She already wasn’t happy about me going to Arlanta, either, but Felix managed to get his foot in the door negotiation-wise.’

Felix opens the door, allowing him to poke his head in and see his sister and her playmate.

“Athy, can I play with you?” Athan asked rather sweetly with a smile. “Big sis Verena wanted to talk to Lucas.”

“Of course, Athan!” Athy cheered, smile wide and clearly fake.

Lucas only raised a brow at the odd request from Autumn, but Athan supposed it was justified. Lucas was an outlier, and Autumn wanted to figure out if he really is an unrelated person to this world.

Maybe he’s a transmigrator like them, Athan truthfully considered. Like an OC in fanfics — original characters were a hit or miss with him, but he often made exceptions if he was desperate for a fanfic. Lucas seemed like a cliché self-insert OC — black hair and red eyes, a classic combo that would only be a better fit if he was a mysterious stranger with a tragic backstory…

Focus.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Athy frowned, puffing up her cheeks in clear displeasure. “Ever since I woke up, you never talk to me like normal!”

“Me ignoring you?!” Athan scoffed. “You’re one to talk! You’ve been acting like I don’t even exist!”

“What?”

“What?” he hissed. “What part of that don’t you understand? You’re the genius here.”

——————————

‘Autumn, where are you?!’ Athanase panicked, calmly taking a sip of tea. ‘How do I deal with your obsessive gay son?!’

‘Bitch — where am I? Where the fuck’re you?!’

Autumn’s thoughts practically screeched at him from across the Marquisate.

——————————

Ferdinand Milford is a surprisingly chatty kid. It often grated on his nerves, but oddly enough, there were moments where he did feel fond of Ferdie’s dumb comments. Maybe the original Athanasios was much more familiar with the guy?

He almost reminded him of Athanasia, whenever she tried to urge him to tag along with her.

How was she adjusting to life without him, especially without the telepathy?

Maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know.

——————————

“I don’t get it,” Athanase frowned. “I said the same thing word for word as I remembered, but it only made her angry.”

“Did you do anything different?” Autumn asked.

“Not that I can remember,” he shook his head.

“Well surely you must’ve done something,” Autumn wearily said with a wry smile, finally looking over to him. “Charlotte dislikes men, and yet according to your memories, you and our families were the exceptions.”

“But I really didn’t do anything different…”

“That may be, but you need to remember that you’re not the same person any more. You experienced a childhood where you are loved and cherished. Even if she, too, is cherished by her loved ones, maybe you won’t be able to relate to her at all in this life because you’re no longer the same as you once were.”

He hated that thought — a small part of him desperately wanted to know more about Charlotte.

It was a rather ugly feeling.

“I don’t want that,” he quietly admits. “I want to see her smile.”

“You’re surprisingly stubborn about this,” Autumn blinked.

“I don’t remember much, but she was important to me.”

——————————

“I… don’t want to have a painful death.”

She is a beauty beyond compare, though her face was sickly pale with chapped lips. He tries not to note the lack of red hues her lips used to have, nor did he say much as his hands cupped her cold hands. Her eyes are beautiful, but they are now muted orange-yellow sunsets — he still loves them, he still loves her, but it breaks his heart to see her in so much pain.

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Surely you agree, dear.”

“Yeah,” he quietly says, placing his hand next to her as she laid in bed and watching her weakly bring his hand to cup her cheek.

“Do you think I’m being horrid for thinking my family is selfish, love? For saying such horrid things. Mother and father keep telling me to hold on a little longer and have faith,” she weakly huffed. “Sister-in-law keeps telling me that she’ll find someone to save me, and then my elder brother insists that I’ll survive this ordeal, even though he looks away as though ashamed.”

“No,” he wryly smiles, running his fingers through her long blonde hair, watching as her shoulders relax. “I would say the same, if I were plagued with this cursed affliction without a known cure.”

“Truly, my beloved understands me best,” she smiles in return, and he notices how her eyes grow misty. “Am I terrible, having these bad thoughts? For wanting them to cut it out and be realistic?”

“Of course not,” his eyes softened. “They’re trying to handle the situation by having hope, but it’s hurting you the most.”

“I know they mean well,” she states as tears begin to fall. “But it makes me feel all the more guilty for leaving them.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods, taking his handkerchief out as he wipes away her tears.

——————————

“I will leave you and the princess be — I won’t even try to covet her holy beast. In exchange, I ask that you don’t interfere with the wish I must grant.”

“And whose wish are you talking about?”

“Why, my princess, of course. Isn’t it obvious?” she smiled at him. “Even if she’s not the same person, I must accomplish what’s been asked.”

——————————

“Would you hate me,” [][][][][][][][][] had started, looking off into the horizon, “If I were to be consumed by my short-sighted quest for revenge? If I abandon my ideals of knighthood in exchange for the power it takes to defeat those who have wronged us? If I were to ever become the monster that I had sought to destroy… what would happen, if I stray?”

He raised his hand to cup [][][][][][][][][]’s cheek, speaking gently, tenderly, “I would kill you myself.”

His eyes softened.

“Good.”

——————————

***

She sits on the windowsill, calm and quiet as the wind brushes through her long pale blonde hair. The weight of her dress fell at her sides, a clear indication that she was skinnier than before. Her face sullen, and the skin of her hands had hugged her so that he could see the bone structure.

So, he dimly thinks as realization creeps up on him as if it had always been a known fact. This was the reason why she was hiding away. Up in a room away from everyone in the mansion.

[][][][][][][][][] twirled a flower between her fingers. If anyone from noble society saw her now, they might actually believe her to be a mere ghost, waiting for her time to come.

“[][][][][][],” he quietly says, watching as his beloved wistfully twirls the flower in her hand.

“Ah. I’ve been caught.”

Despite the nonchalant response, she looked rather guilty.

Guilty about taking off without him, he knows.

“You’re leaving.”

It was not a question.

[][][][][][] doesn’t smile at him, and instead wistfully smiles at the flower in her hand.

A precious and pretty flower that will soon wither away.

(She, too, will wither away.)

“I am glad that it was you who found me, and not another soul, my dove.”

He was speechless.

She was now leaving.

She was now leaving by choice.

“Maybe in another life, we would have had a chance,” [][][][][][] bitterly chuckles, her eyes dull from losing its vibrant shine, her dry pale lips curled like wilted flowers.

The sun was shining behind her, illuminating her presence.

She was beautiful, as always, forever in his eyes.

Always tragically beautiful.

“Maybe next time,” she breathes.

At that moment, she finally looks at him, properly then.

“Maybe next time,” he smiles at her, because that’s what she would want to see in her final moments, and she smiles back, elation clear in her eyes.

That was it, he thinks, that’s the smile he longed to see.

. . .

And then she…

And then, she was gone.

“Maybe next time,” he tells himself, finally crumpling to the ground as the tears pour out and his smile withers away.

Maybe next time, he would’ve had the strength to save her from herself.

Maybe next time.

***

——————————

‘What the fuck do I do?!’ Autumn internally screamed, clutching her teacup as Claude’s eyes bore into her.

‘Spit it out!’ Athan cried. ‘Spill the tea!’

Without much thought, Verena coughed, her tea spilling onto her.

“Are you okay, Lady Verena?!” Lady Iris, who was seated at her side, immediately reached out her handkerchief to Autumn.

“Ah… my apologies,” Autumn demurely stated, taking the handkerchief calmly, despite the internal screaming that only Athanase could hear. “I didn’t expect the tea to be as bitter as it was, so the fault lies with me…”

“We’ll just have to make sure there’s more sugar next time for you, Lady Verena,” Athan smoothly stated as he smiled at her before looking at Claude who continued to stare on with a frown. “Papa, may I be excused, so I can show Lady Verena where the dressing rooms are?”

Claude didn’t bother to hide his displeasure, as he narrowed his eyes at Autumn with the most loathsome look. “You are to return as soon as you’re done,” he stated with a more neutral look as his focus returned to Athanase, looking rather disinterested despite Felix seeming to hold back a laughing fit. “There will be no delays.”

“Of course, papa!” Athan chirped as he and Autumn left the room.

. . .

“So scary!” Autumn let out a heavy gasp as she leaned against Athan’s shoulder the moment the doors closed. “If looks can kill, I’d be dead again!”

“Chill, bro. You’re overreacting,” Athan rolled his eyes at her dramatics as he snapped his fingers, instantly cleaning the tea stains. She shot him a confused look. “Dad doesn’t know yet, but I’ve been getting better at magic.”

“He’s gonna murder me in cold blood if he finds out I know that fact before him,” Autumn cried, her face getting red and blotchy. “I have to walk on eggshells if I value my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, wallow about my so-called tsundere dad,” Athan shook his head at her dramatics. “I’ll at least walk you to the dressing room before I leave you alone, so you can focus on planning your funeral.”

“How nice,” Autumn pouted, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Iris gave. “A companion until my demise.”

——————————

“Dance with me,” Autumn says, looking at him softly. “Stop thinking about it, about them, and just savour the moment we have in this peace and quiet.”

“…I don’t think I can do that.”

“I understand that you have a broken heart,” Autumn whispered, placing her hand over his. “And you can cry all you’d like, but it helps to grieve over something that wasn’t meant to be bit by bit.”

“…you sound like you’ve had your own heart broken.”

“Yes,” Autumn softly murmured. “My heart never stood a chance.”

When did she get a broken heart? She never told him anything in their past life.

“You sound as if you were in love.”

“I was.”

“Who was it?”

“…someone who had no future.”

——————————

“It’s difficult being bisexual in a noble society where it just doesn’t seem to be the norm,” Verena sighed.

“Try being an actual member of the royal family and bisexual. Athy keeps teasing me about the gentlemen — not sure why she’s not teasing me about my potential suitors, but I’m thankful that she hasn’t,” Athan dryly stated. “What’s up with everyone, anyway? There’s not a single ugly person out of all the people I’ve encountered,” he looked at Verena and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Including you, too.”

“As a marriage candidate of yours, I suppose I should be grateful you think of me to be attractive,” Autumn pursed her lips, obviously displeased at his compliment. “You’re not a sight for sore eyes either, unfortunately.”

“It’s called having good genes,” Athanase dryly stated. “Is there an actual reason you were wistfully sighing over your sexuality?”

“Lilian York,” Autumn simply stated as Felix awkwardly tried to ignore their conversation. Briefly, Athan pitied the guard, but also, he found it quite amusing to watch him feign ignorance in the aftermath of all his conversations with Autumn.

Felix was interested in Lily, wasn’t he? It would be fun to try and tease him…

But still.

“My nanny?” he raised a brow. “Really?”

“She’s young, she’s single, she’s devoted,” Autumn huffed, placing a hand on her hip. “She’s pretty, she’s very sweet and kind, she’s mother material—”

“—Alright, you’ve made your point,”  he interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And you’ve also made it abundantly clear that you’ve no interest in anyone in our generation. It’s not like you can make it even more clear.”

He froze.

That sounded like a challenge.

Athan did not intend to challenge her.

For a moment, Autumn is quiet. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, as if he’ll loathe this conversation for years to come. They make eye contact.

“Don’t—” Athan hissed.

“Duke Robain,” Autumn seriously stated as Felix immediately choked and stared at them in baffled disbelief. Athan didn’t blame him, he would’ve reacted the same way if Autumn mentioned his own father. Even then, his father wouldn’t be too terrible of an answer since Duke Robain was likely in his 50s-60s by now. To an outsider, it would simply make Autumn seem as if she were into grandparents.

She probably would’ve said his father’s name, if she didn’t value her own life. It was fortunate that she gave no fucks after Felix found out about her interests in mothers and fathers.

Still, he made a face, wrinkling his nose as he very much judged her blatant disregard for manners.

“Can you not?”

“Duke Robain.”

He heaved a heavy sigh, deliberately choosing to ignore her as he takes a sip of his tea.

“Duke. Robain.”

“I heard you the first time, and I prefer to leave it at that,” Athan flatly shot back, placing his cup of tea back down. “Now, will you kindly shut up?”

She did not kindly shut up.

“He’s gorgeous, Prince Athanase!” Autumn seemed to practically swoon. “Duke Robain is my ideal man. The silver-grey is a lovely combination with his red hair, and his voice is just—!” Autumn squealed. “And he’s just so gentlemanly.”

“Duke Robain is, what, three times our physical age, now?” he rubbed his temple, feeling a headache creeping in. “And need I remind you that we haven’t even debuted yet, at the very least?”

“He’s only, like, 45, last I recall,” Autumn confidently stated. Well shit, there goes his guess. He keeps forgetting that high society’s wack like that with their marriages and crap. “And Duke Robain has yet to remarry. And you debut in four years — we have time. I need to plan a memorable first meeting!”

“Right…” he slowly spoke, his eyes trailing away from his companion and over to Felix, who appeared very much horrified by the conversation and very much wishing he never heard a word. “Good luck with that, I suppose.”

——————————

“Don’t!” Odysseus had shouted, trying to cover Athanase’s face. “Don’t look!”

“Sir Odysseus…?”

“Please… don’t try to remember.”

As if mocking Odysseus, the flames roared, a scream accompanying it.

And Athan, he… he…

He blacks out.

. . .

Everything ached in a way that felt unfamiliar to him.

He hears the cackling fire and frowns, opening his eyes. The room was getting uncomfortably warm, and he couldn’t move much, nor could he speak.

And that’s when he sees it — a fire burning the building, reaching towards him in an agonizingly slow pace. He tried to break away, only to realize that he was tied to a chair, with a piece of cloth over his mouth.

He tried to squirm, but it was no use—

It was only then that he heard a faint shout, screaming for him.

That very same person had reignited the hope he had lost in the midst of despair.

“[][][][][][][][]! Please, answer me! Your Highness, Prince—”

——————————

“You don’t even like physical labour!” Athan stated in clear exasperation.

“Just  because I don’t want to be a swordsman doesn’t mean I’m not interested  in the art as a writer!” Verena argued back as Athy watched them, taking  a sip of her tea as she watched the two argue. “Besides, knights who  can use magic are sexy and popular in literature nowadays!”

“You  just want to write a love story involving a prince and a knight,” Athan  shot back. “You even wrote that smut fic involving, well, you know.”

“That’s not true! That’s not true!” Verena screeched, covering her ears as she pointedly avoided eye contact.

“Says FFN User Starshine-Dreaming!”

“No,  no, no!” Verena cried. “Drop it! I stopped writing on FFN for a reason,  Athan! When in heavens are you finally going to stop reminding me about  it all?!”

“Who knows,” he flatly responded. “Maybe I’ll  be reminding you for the same length of time that I’ve waited for a  chapter update — several years, bitch.”

“It’s been more than six years! Get over it already, asshole!”

“Six in the previous life, but eight including now!” Athan hissed. “Fourteen years in total, Autumn!”

——————————

“So… I might have fucked up canon this time,” Autumn immediately started the conversation with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Excuse me?” he blinked, taken aback as he looks at her.

“Hari Ernst,” Autumn sheepishly grinned.

“Autumn… what did you do?” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Eheh… well, I have a little sister now! Surprise?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” she sheepishly nodded, taking a sip of her tea as she avoids eye contact. “Brother and I were out shopping together, we ended up finding Hari, and brother pitied her, so we proposed that maybe we took her into the family. Auntie needs an heiress, last I recall.”

“Dude… didn’t the oldest of the Ernst boys like Hari, even though she practically looks like she could be their sister’s twin with how similar they look to each other? I did not torture myself with reading that damn novel to reach this point, dammit.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Autumn nodded. “Besides, didn’t you say that it would be a good idea to befriend the Ernst Family? I hear that they’ll be partaking in the Hunting Competition. Who knows, maybe if the future heiress of the Pompidou Family ends up charming the future Duke of the Ernst Family, we’ll have ourselves a proper alliance by marriage going on.”

“Do you honestly believe, to the gods above, that Eugene would marry into the Pompidou Family?”

“…We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

——————————

“So, my aunt will be adopting Hari — er, Harley — and it turns out, since my uncle refuses to adopt her since she’s from the streets, she’ll remain a Demirci. When Hari — fuck, Harley —inherits the title, she can keep the name.”

“That doesn’t sound plausible to a noble society…”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I just opted to talk to His Majesty.”

“You talked to my dad?”

“All I did was mention that you thought Pompidou is a dumb name and that you felt bad that Hari — HARLEY — was going to be called by that name when she gets older. And that it’d make you really happy if she could go by Demirci, so you should maybe act really cute with His Majesty like Her Highness, Princess Athanasia.”

“…right. Also, you know it’s fine to still call her Hari, right? If anyone notices then just say it’s a nickname.”

“…why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Cause it was funny watching you struggle over something so simple.”

“Wow, what a bitch.”

——————————

“We need to talk.”

Autumn’s smile faltered the moment she heard those words. “Oh no, are we breaking up?”

“What?”

“I swear I’ll change, babe!” Autumn stated, slumping in her seat over the table. “Please don’t leave meeee.”

“Autumn, the fuck’re you on about?”

“You said the classic breakup intro, dude. I had to do it for the sake of our readers. What if they got their hopes up regarding our relationship? No, no! Things like this ought to be clearly defined.”

“…my best friend’s going crazy. Look, nobody would ever ship us — except for maybe a few crazy multi-shippers. Like yourself. Even my sister’s against the very thought of it. She’d rather I start crushing on Ijekiel, and everyone knows how popular I’d be with him! Plus, the majority of our readers don’t want me to end up with a girl.”

“Damn. Way to hurt me right where it hurts the most. I can’t believe I’m un-shippable with my own bestie…”

——————————

“You should be fine,” Autumn snorts, taking a sip from her glass. “Common noble etiquette dictates that you should never approach someone of higher status for a dance. Princess Athanasia is more approachable. Just frown at everyone and you’ll be good.”

“So I should treat them like bugs the same way my dad does,” Athan concluded.

——————————

***

“As you already know by now,” she weakly says, “Athanasios died. In my rewrite, I tried to figure out a way to keep him alive, I wanted to give the twins a happy ending.”

That was surprising — she never told him that.

“No matter what I tried to write, I couldn’t imagine him being alive at the end of Toska. Somehow, or some way, he was going to end up dying. It was the main reason why I stopped posting updates in the first place. I wanted to finish it, though, at least for you, when I found out that you read my story. I wanted to finish rewriting Toska for you, but then you…”

But then he died.

She had no reason to finish her story, if the one she rewrote it for wouldn’t even be there to read it.

“And it was… it was the same. For Athanasios. He…” she refused to look up from her teacup, but he could already see where she was going with this.

“Athanasios died in your rewrite.”

Just like he did.

Verena says nothing, but that alone is enough of an answer.

Athanase slowly nods as dawning realization washes over him. And he remembers that dream, where he spoke to Diana, and the way he moved closer to the ledge.

.

(He feels a twinge of guilt, a pain in his chest, for what he was about to do.)

.

“He jumped from a tower.”

Nothing.

.

(There is something about him that she sees, and he knows this, because there is a moment that her soft smile crumples. Tears pour out as his mother becomes distraught, sadness splashing him in waves, but he stands still — unyielding. He finally takes a step closer to the balcony, hands touching the cold stone.)

.

“And he chose to do it. He wasn’t pushed, he wasn’t threatened, he wasn’t manipulated, he wasn’t in any danger.”

His throat felt dry.

He knows.

“It was a deliberate choice. Athanasios… he wanted to die.”

.

(An image of Diana standing on the balcony, crying as she tries to stop her son who only shakes his head and smiles, who tells her “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.”

The sensation of stepping on the ledge, ignoring his silently crying mother.)

.

“Athanasios got tired of living,” he quietly says.

Verena closes her eyes, tears spilling forth as she never looks at him. She says nothing, again, as he figures it all out, slowly and verbally voicing the thoughts aloud, a sick and twisted feeling rising from within.

He feels nauseous.

.

(An image of long black hair whirling in the wind comes to mind, high up on a rooftop, staring up at the darkening skies above. Lips curling up into a smile as they ignored the painful aches of their bones. The feeling of freedom just within their reach…)

.

“I got tired of living.”

And it should be alarming, really, but it doesn’t surprise him.

He always believed that he wasn’t the sort of person to just… jump to end his life, and yet he did — he has, he had, he might. With a compelling enough reason, it was a magical excuse to end it all.

It just so happened that wanting death was reason enough.

.

(“I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. Maybe next time.”)

.

In his previous life — lives, maybe — he wanted to die.

She doesn’t need to tell him the reason why she never finished the rewrite anymore. He did exactly what Athanasios had done. It must’ve felt terrible, reading your own writing meant for a friend who died, only for that very person to die in the same exact way, albeit in different circumstances and situations, in different places and times.

But for the same reasons.

It still happened, even if he never thought he would consider…

.

(He died.)

.

“You did,” Verena softly confirmed, but she didn’t really have to, not after his memory was steadily returning with more clarity and pain. “And that’s why you died in our last life together.”

People are complicated. They’re irrational or logical, fuelled by motivations or lack thereof. They’re complicated, righteous or morally grey, or downright psychotic or had been sane this whole time. Their actions could be done for stupid or convoluted reasons that most just wouldn’t be able to recognize from the get go.

The answers can be difficult to answer, because sometimes a reason why things happen include multiple issues, little things that build up over time.

And sometimes, the answer he’s been looking for really is as simple as that:

“You were tired, Athanase.”

.

(“I’m… tired.”)

***

[tsuki-sennin]

Shortly after asserting N'Kosopa's will against the vindictive Racules and fending away the Bugnarak Empire in Peta, King of Evil Gira and President Yanma Gast are unexpectedly stolen away by God Kamakiri: Guardian Shugod of the Kingdom of Ishabana. Infamous for her lavish lifestyle but beloved by her people as a healer, Ishabana's young Queen Himeno Ran no doubt seeks an audience with the two men. Though her aim is uncertain, she may prove to be an invaluable ally in dethroning Racules and freeing the people of Shugoddam...

...ahem, that is to say... "Let's get this story of ours back on track!"

Spoilers, I guess...

-Sheesh, they should pay me to do these recaps!

-So the story goes!

-Ah, it's...

-Well, it's certainly a pretty place!

-Getting kidnapped by a beautiful girl's gigantic robot mantis god...

-That's how I'd like to be introduced to someone.

-Ah, Yanma seems to know what's up.

-Uhhh, not at all, Your Majesty! We're right as rain, eh Gira?

-Ooooof, shut down.

-Well, to be fair, Gira's a pretty eye catching dude.

-...I won't lie, it'd have been all over for me right then and there.

-Rich, glamorous doctor, patron of the arts, and direct with what she wants?

-AND flower handcuffs!? Oh, Toei, you guys gotta stop reading my search history.

-Soooooo, how we feeling about Zenryoku King? I think it's pretty good, but I'm not quite sure it fits the theming quite yet.

-I absolutely love this opening sequence though, it's so sick looking.

-I love how the team colors just pop out of the grayscale.

-Sentai gets visual flair even if fidelity can be called into question sometimes.

-Holy shit, every Kingdom's in better shape than Shugoddam!

-That motherfucker!

-Kuwagon :)

-I see Gira views his god as his bestie

-"Here I thought you a junkyard dog! Gast, you spineless, simpering purse pup! Have you been so truly whipped that you'd hand over MY God to please a single whim!?"

-"No! ...Nyes :3d"

-Oh, and she's got maids for days!

-Evil~!

-"...okay, can he say that in English? Or uh, Japanese I guess... come to think of it, what do the people of Tikyu speak? Galactic Basic?"

...actually, I hear Erica Murakami's got a bit of Canadian in her, would she know English?

-Rainbow Jururira!

-...come to think of it, Gira must be starving. Not only did he just get out of a battle, but he was taken to another country and hung from the ceiling. ...has he eaten today?

-"Some of you may die, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

-Oooooh, three greater guardians.

-That's a scarab, I'm pretty sure.

-Himeno seems like the kind of person who'd get extremely mad about a typo in chat.

-Hmm... this place reminds me a lot of the Netherlands. ...or I suppose more accurately, the Dutch tulip craze.

-If you don't know what I'm taking about, I insist you do a bit of research on the 17th century's Tulip Mania. It's a hell of a lot like the investment schemes we see nowadays, in terms of how much money was lost and how little we learn from it.

-"Oh God, it's another one... *Sigh* Do I have to depose this one too?"

-"Smash that house!"

-Gira's certainly sticking to his principles. Very based of him.

-Those poor people.

-...Ohhhh, she likes blowing shit up.

-God, she's perfect.

-"...and just as suddenly as it came, it's gone. Let's get outta here."

-Raaaainbow jururira.

-"Yo."

-The bugs are fighting!

-Ohhh, it's a soup.

-Soop...

-"Yeah, thanks, whatever."

-"Good work. ...but this ain't the real thing."

-I'm gonna be honest, I haven't the foggiest idea what jururira even is.

-For all I know, it could be like

-Deep fried spaghetti ice cream.

-Okay, that seems like gelatin.

-Man, Yanma's just *deflated*.

-"Hand over the beetle, or you're fired."

-RITA JUMPSCARE

-"You be safe now, yeah?"

-Ohhh, poor kid

-Seems like her Dad's really mad.

-And off she goes.

-"Please follow these instructions."

-Man, I'm sad now.

-Queen Himeno's aesthetic sense

-25 WHAT THE FUCK

-Oh

-Okay, he just

-I've done a lot of things for cute girls in my short existence, but I don't think roleplaying as a geriatric is one of 'em.

-Oh shit, Bugnarak.

-Who is Queen Himeno Ran, really?

-The people flee!

-Ohgai Busou!

-Help her!

-...oh god, she's covered in shit.

-Take that selfishness to the top, girlie.

-Himeno Ran! Does as she pleases, and pleases as she does!

-Come and Kick It!

-Ohgai Busou!

-Kamakiri Ohger!

-Kamakiri, Kamakiri! Yas Queen!

-Ohh...

-Ohh, she's even more beautiful than I could've ever imagined

-She be walkin!

-"You're not nearly enough of a self-centered bitch yet~!"

-"Hahahaha! How obstinate! Verily, your selfishness is a fitting ally for the King of Evil~!"

-Man, that Mantis would bite my head right off...

-King Ohger!

-Oh shit

-Literally~!

-...that's two episodes in a row with poop jokes, what the heck.

-Snaaaaaail!

-"Oh, okay. Zooom."

-Himeno-samaaaaa~!

-Oh okay, that's uh

-An interesting angle.

-Yay, we did it!

-...I've decided that I am now officially a Himeno Ran simp.

-...you could've picked up on context clues, but I figured saying it outright would help.

-"Ohhhhh!"

-"You just let me handle it, yeah?"

-King Dybowski!

-Of Toufu Land!

-Good on ya, lass.

-That's our Queen for you.

-"Shut it boy. I've got a job to do."

-God Kabuto!

-Oh, no time for surgery, it seems!

-Kaguragi Dybowski! What is this Bee Lord after?

-Suppose we'll just have to wait and see now, won't we?

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

Back to September

28. Ring Bearer

Based on this prompt list

AO3

______________________________________________

If she had known this wedding would be such a… such a production, she wouldn’t have so readily agreed to help her parents out with the catering. As it was, it was far, far, far too late to back out now. The most she could do was keep her head down and get through it. 

She turned to grab another box of cream puffs from the counter and hissed in pain as one of the caterers stepped on her foot. He offered her an apologetic look over her shoulder but was gone in a flurry of limbs and panic in the blink of an eye. He was just one of the many, many, many harried vendors scrambling around, trying to keep everything from turning to shambles. 

The groom and bride had been… indecisive from the get-go. Her parents had griped over how the cake tasting appointment had run over time because the couple couldn’t make up their minds. 

Looking back, their inability to make a decision at that appointment had been an omen for the chaos to come. 

They had changed their order for the cake three times. And she had heard from the caterers that the same had happened to them. And the poor florist… the woman had looked ready to rip the centrepieces to shreds. 

To say nothing of the wedding planner… 

Nothing was where it was supposed to be. Nothing had gone according to plan or schedule. The DJ had been a no-show. The flower girl had wandered away and hidden in a dumb waiter for half an hour while the best man and maid of honour scoured the building, looking for her in a panic. There hadn’t been enough staff on site to set things up so, apparently, the string quartet had been roped into helping set up…  

It was a good thing Hawkmoth had been dealt with years ago. Otherwise, someone would have been akumatized already. 

She shook her head and began unloading the creampuffs onto a serving platter. The ceremony was over now. As was the cocktail hour. Dinner had been served. They just needed to get through the rest of the night. She just had to make it a few more hours. Then she could go home with a nice big paycheck from her parents and collapse into bed and-

“Have you seen the ring bearer?” Her eyes snapped up at the unfamiliar voice and landed on a dishevelled-looking man with ruffled blue hair—she vaguely remembered hearing the mother of the groom complaining about someone with blue hair and how he didn’t fit the aesthetic—and a violin case in his hand. His suit jacket was thrown over his shoulder, and looked ready to fall off at any second, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos on his arms. She could see splashes of blue and teal, and black lines- “Please tell me you’ve seen him. Five years old. Blond. He has… brown eyes, I think?” 

Heat flared through her cheeks as she shook her head. She had just been staring at him and- “No! I haven’t. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know,” the man groaned, running a hand through his hair. 

“You don’t know…?” 

He shook his head. “I was supposed to be outta here ages ago. I was just supposed to play the ceremony, but this family-“ he cut himself off abruptly, his cheeks reddening as he glanced around surreptitiously. “Uh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t talk about clients that way…”

She snorted. “You’re in good company here,” she said, gesturing around to all the harried people bustling around the kitchen. “Misery and company and all that.” He chuckled. He had a nice laugh. “So if you were supposed to be gone already, how did you get roped into looking for the ring bearer?” 

“Long story,” he sighed. Only to be interrupted by his stomach growling. “Sorry,” he muttered as his face flushed again. “I haven’t had a chance to eat yet- I can’t!” he began to protest as she pressed a cream puff into his free hand. 

“Sure you can. You were supposed to be gone ages ago, and now you’re stuck looking for a kid. I don’t see why you can’t have one. Just don’t tell anyone where you got it,” she added with a conspiratorial wink. 

He laughed. And then his laugh turned into a grin. And then his grin turned into a smile. All quiet and kind and twinkling eyes and cheeks bones and curved lips… “Thank you…”

“Marinette,” she squeaked out. Suddenly, she was feeling a little breathless. 

“Luka.” 

“Timmy!” She jumped at the sound of a voice in the hall shouting. Luka’s mouth was gaping open, his eyes wide and startled. And his cheeks were turning pink. She could feel her own growing warm again with a flush. “Timmy, where are you?” 

“Right! Ring bearer… I should…”

“Yeah,” she gasped. 

He was almost out of the room when he paused. Then he turned and made his way back to her. “Feel free not to use it but… if you ever wanted to give me a call…” he held out a business card to her with a grin tinged with shyness. 

Smiling, she took it from him. Luka Couffaine. Guitar. Violin. Lyre. Harp… the list went on. “Only,” she said as she began fishing in her apron pocket, “if you’ll use mine.” She handed him her card for her fashion line, and his grin widened. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language and violence Warnings: Choking (kinda) Summary: Local feral human makes a friend, tries to sleep next to local mean vampire, then gets a taste of their own medicine Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!

3: Haunt Me Dearly

What a lovely crimson mess I’ve made, you think, watching as the last of the bloody water drained from the bathtub. There were still several splashes of red along the sides, where you had leaned on or otherwise touched. Frowning, you considered whether or not to clean up after yourself. Surely it wouldn’t be one of your captors doing the cleaning? In that case, you think, I don’t want to make any enemies out of the servants. First you had to finish binding your wounds. Wouldn’t want to risk getting them dirty so soon after washing them, after all. Except you weren’t even sure that you could properly wrap them on your own, considering the positioning of your injuries.

“Ah, fucking hell…” You muttered, scowling a little. Then you remembered that Cassandra had sent a maid to wait outside the bathroom for you. Maybe they could help? Nodding to yourself, you threw on your new undergarments and pair of trousers, deciding to save the shoes for later. Once you were ‘decent’, you slowly opened the door, peeking out from behind it. Before long you were making eye contact with an unfamiliar woman, who looked very confused. “Any chance you could help me bandage my shoulder? I can’t do it without help, and something tells me Cassandra’s not going to lend me a hand.” With that said, you gave her a friendly smile, hoping to make up for the awkwardness of the situation.

“Of course! It is my honor to serve a guest of my Lady,” the maid- servant, maybe- said, giving a short curtsy. Admittedly you’re a little confused by her response. Still, you gladly welcome her assistance, moving back into the bathroom to grab the gauze. Although you intend to do as much as you can on your own, the woman is quick to take over completely. “Please, allow me,” she continued, carefully beginning to wrap your wounds.

“Are all the workers here so polite? I can’t imagine anyone actually enjoys working here, all things considered,” you mused, squinting at the middle distance. At that, the servant tenses up, clearly not expecting you to speak ill of her employers. Well, she had called you a guest. “Don’t be surprised, friend. Less than an hour ago I was fit to be consumed by ‘your Lady Cassandra’. Only reason I’m not dead right now is because of a stupid blood bond,” you explained, tone dripping with irritation. This time the servant doesn’t flinch at all, instead nodding slowly, taking a moment to let your words sink in. During this pause, you decide to introduce yourself, just in case the two of you might see each other frequently.

“I… see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter the circumstances of your presence here. You can call me Daphne, though I must warn you that I am not one for, ahem, gossip about my masters,” she replied, finishing her binding of your shoulder wound. Next she searched through the cabinet by the sink, looking for a medicinal salve of some sort. Once she found it she was right back to work. The substance stung a tad on your skin, but you could hardly complain, seeing as it would help fight off possible infections.

“You sure about no gossip? What if we call it ‘helping me get acclimated to my new situation’? I’m a fish outta water here, Daphne,” you suggested, turning your head to look her in the eyes. At first she ignored you, focusing on rubbing the medicine into your skin. Eventually she meets your gaze, briefly, and releases a quiet sigh.

“You are free to ask questions-” you start to celebrate, though not for long- “just as I am free to withhold answers. Though I may be more responsive if you can tell me one thing… Why was Lady Cassandra’s dress wet?” Daphne asked, making you freeze in place. Of course she wanted the one answer you didn’t feel confident about giving. She’s quick to notice this, though, and laughs to herself. “Well, I suppose some things must remain a mystery. Now let’s get your face cleaned up…”

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

By the time you make it to Cassandra’s room, the sun is starting to rise, leaking in through the castle windows. Exhaustion weighs you down, making you want to fall immediately into the nearest bed. As it stands, that was none other than your soulmate’s, though it was currently occupied. For a moment you hover in her doorway, contemplating whether or not you should steal her blanket. Floor can’t be too bad, you think, right? Before you can decide you notice Cassandra stirring from her sleep.

“What took you so fucking long?” She asked groggily. Now she’s sitting up, blanket clinging loosely to her body, and you realize that she’s not wearing a shirt. Though a blush rishes up your cheeks, you’re certain it’s too dark for Cassandra to notice. Or at least you hope so. Wanting to think about something other than what she was (or was not) wearing, you focus your energy on responding.

“Isn’t it obvious? I got invited to a sick orgy on the way back, and I wasn’t about to turn that down, so…” You trailed off, gesturing idly with your hands. The movement stretches your shoulder more than you’d like, resulting in an ache that lasts several seconds. It distracts you to the point where you almost can’t catch the object Cassandra promptly throws at you. “What the hell…?” It’s a shoe, as far as you can tell, that definitely would have hurt, had it hit its intended target. “Such a lovely gift, babe. I will treasure it for the rest of my days, forever keeping it as a reminder that you-” your tone shifts from a false joy to deadpan- “are a piece of shit. Now, seriously, where am I supposed to sleep? Is there a walk-in closet I can camp in? Or do I get the bed, while you sleep in a fucking coffin or something?”

Before Cassandra has a chance to respond, you’re walking further into her room, wanting to take a quick look around. There’s a large dresser that you quickly toss her shoe inside, as well as a window sill with a built-in reading nook. Trading your tiredness for sheer dickery, you throw open the curtains, letting the light pour in (and nearly blind you in the process). Half of you expects your soulmate to screech in response. Maybe even turn to ash. Instead, you hear her moving, and you turn to find her laying back down, facing away from you.

“When you’re done fucking around, come over here and sleep. I will knock you out if I have to,” Cassandra muttered, still sounding half asleep. As much as you wanted to know if she’d go through with her threat, you are exhausted. Begrudgingly you approach the bed. It’s certainly large enough for two people, even having enough room for you to be completely separate from each other. When you start to climb in, you find yourself overwhelmed for a moment, surprised at the quality of the sheet fabric. Exactly how rich were these vampiric assholes? This room alone seemed to be worth more than you had ever known.

This was, perhaps, the one bright side to your situation: A comfortable state of existence. Well, as comfortable as one could get in a place like this. So lovely on the outside, a muse worthy of a thousand artists, yet hiding far darker horrors within… much like the woman you now found yourself laying beside. Why me? Why her? What could possibly bring the two of us together, you think, other than a cruel fate? There’s a pain in your chest, dishearteningly similar to heartache. Damning the universe, and your blood bond, and yourself, you think ‘fuck it’ before sliding closer to Cassandra. One arm drapes itself over her waist, while you slowly lean your head against her back.

In an instant she’s tense, not even breathing, waiting for you to reveal whatever trick hid up your sleeve. But no trick comes, just your hand meeting hers, squeezing softly. Suddenly the tension is gone. None remains, not even lingering in the air, and the two of you soon drift off to sleep...

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

Shaking, body made a wreck through tremors, tears staining her cheeks. Breathing comes hard, each shift of her lungs bringing with it a mighty ache. Someone’s holding her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, fingers tracing circles against her back. But she’s lost in her dream, eyes clenched shut. Visions flash before her gaze like lightning in a storm. There’s no time to process, no opportunity to prepare for the thunder that follows. Every strike is a punch to the gut she can’t ignore. When release finally comes, it is not a gentle kiss to her forehead, or a reassuring hand on her own, but rather an intense surge of pain that jolts her awake.

Cassandra nearly screams as she sits up, hands reflexively going to hold her head. One of them stings, bad, and she notices what look like bite marks on the side. For a moment her confusion acts as a welcome distraction. Then she’s looking next to her, and the puzzle practically puts itself together. There you are, one hand in your mouth, an eyebrow raised as you stare at her. Ignoring the lingering memories of her dream, she turns all of her rage towards you. Quickly she grabs ahold of your arm, forcefully yanking your hand out of your mouth, even though it makes your teeth dig in a little deeper. It takes more willpower than she wants to admit to stop herself from strangling you right then and there.

“I didn’t know monsters could even have nightmares,” you taunted. Before you know what’s happening, Cassandra is lunging towards you, pressing her forearm against your throat. There’s just enough pressure to make talking difficult. Both of her yellow eyes are filled with hatred, aimed right at you, but you can’t help but laugh. “Ya know, I did try to wake you up nicely. I should have known you only respond to violence. Next time, though, I’ll remember to stay a safe distance away.”

“You don’t know anything, dipshit. Anyone else would know better than to spout so much fucking ignorance, but nobody taught you how to behave, huh?” Cassandra growled, applying more pressure with her arm, leaving you unable to reply (for once). “You’re a goddamn mutt, aren’t you? Thrown to the street like the garbage you are, left to live in the gutter, feeding off of trash like a fucking cannibal. You should be honored to be allowed anywhere near me. You should be worshiping me, for fuck’s sake!” Black dots form in your vision, a dark halo edging into the corners of your eyes, as your lungs beg for air. But you’re grinning. You’re showing your teeth, bright and proud, knowing full well that you have won this round. As soon as realization dawns on Cassandra’s face she’s pulling herself off of you.

Still, you are left gasping, clutching at your neck as she hurriedly gets dressed for the day. By the time you can see properly again, she’s left without another word. Even as she stalks down the corridor, eagerly rushing away from you, she hears your laughter howling through the castle. It digs into her brain, taunting her. Soon enough you’ll stop, light headed, but she will still hear it echoing inside her mind. You’ll haunt her just as much as her wicked dreams. Hopefully more.

[theultimatelozer]

You Carry The Genshin Boys

Note: so this includes, Diluc AND Venti and this is jus one of my crack posts LMAOAAO

Diluc

What do you expect? He's a hard workin' man!

He was in the middle of his paper work and when the clock striked 12:00 (Midnight) he felt.. like he wanted to go to slumber.

He drooled at his OWN paperwork, he spent hours on himself.

I would never forgive myself if I did that😭⁉️

You were waiting for him actually, you were just waiting for his cuddles is all. And you felt quite sleepy too.

So you confronted him, well, you actually hesitated quite a bit when opening his office door, "will he be mad at me😟?" is what you thought to yourself.

You looked like a total idiot. You were just standing in front of his door like 🕴❓

Even one of his maids had to tell you, "don't worry. The door is unlocked."

YEA, WE KNOW THAT😭‼️‼️ SAJKD

"mhm.."

"okay, I'll get going now! I still need to clean the stairs." The maid waved her hand as she spoke as a signal of, "goodbye!"

You opened the door after she left, and boom. Hes there, drooling all over his paperwork.

"oh, archons.." was all you said.

You walked (SILENTLY😟) over to him, considering that he is a light sleeper and will wake up anytime.

You were praying to the archons like "plsdontwakeupplsdontwakeupplsdontwakeup" 💀💀

He woke up👨‍🦲‼️‼️

JUst KIDDINF KMAO

He was a heavy sleeper today actually.. probaly stressed over this.

Man, is he heavy!

When he woke up in the morning, he went "wait when was I in the bed?!"

"oh god.. I sleep walked my way here, didnt I.. "

Would question his whole life

"Well, well, well, good morning Diluc." You said with a mischievous voice.

"Oh god, darling, I think I just sleep walked my way here.."

"Sleep walked?"

"Yes.. sleep walked." Diluc's voice started to crack.

"Silly! You sleeped danced!"

"Oh god."

"Yeah.. I was SO scared" you said while trying to hold in your laugh.

"I.. I dont even know how to.. dance." Diluc admitted, hiding himself in the bed sheets with embarrassment.

"BWHAHAHA!" You laughed out.

"Hey.. it's not funny."

"I actually carried you."

Diluc started to make eye contact with you , like 🤨⁉️

He gave the "I know u lyin mofo" face.

You sighed, making your way towards him and putting him in your arms.

Diluc eyes started to widen..

Diluc then hid his face with his hands, slightly blushing, and whispered..

Well, I suppose you proved me wrong this time.

Venti

Long story short, he promised to take you out on a date, so romantic wow😱😱😱😱

Well, this little bard forgot.

Hes like 1000+ year old what do you expect💀💀

Instead, he went to the tavern

SUPRISINGLY, had some money with him.

While at the tavern, diluc was like

"Nahh get outta here I know u ain't got the cash🙄‼‼"

And Venti smirked with his once again, mischievous smirk.

"Hehe he.. "

He gave his money to Diluc.

Diluc went "😨 damn that's a lot"

Diluc then sighed and wus like

"Another soon-to-be-drunk customer☹❗❗"

Diluc gave up in life smh😒😒 loser

As venti drank and drank, he actually drank with Rosaria too!

You were in Windrise, where Venti asked you two to meet n your just there like 🕴‼‼

You looked like an total idiot🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

After like 4 hours you gave up. You did NOT just wait 4 hours for this. And it was so dark too⁉️⁉️

You were like "hol' on.."

"Venti just cant leave me out in the dark like this.. right?"

And that's when it came to you.

You did not go "OHHHHH😨😨" you went-

"oh😒"

Venti, venti, venti.. drinking. smh

You ran to the tavern , 🏃‍♀️ GO GO GO

n while you were still far away from mondstadt

Rosaria said to Venti, "yo .. arent you supposed to *hICCUP* be at your s/o's date.."

"I have a s/o😨⁉️⁉️" was all that Venti said 💁‍♀️

Suprisingly , Rosaria being Rosaria, she healed up real quick, few seconds ago she was drunk as hell and now shes back to normal

Rosaria grunts, "take my money. I dont need them." What else can Rosaria need them for anyway? She's a nun. A nun that drinks

And as soon as you entered the tavern, venti was there, head on the floor. Yes, FLOOR. And drool too..

You sighed to yourself, part of you were angry at Venti and told yourself not to help him, but the other says to do so. Maybe you'll get a prize at the end? For being such a loyal s/o!🙄‼‼

You ain't so altruistic , now are you😡‼‼

So whatever u carried him, he weight like a old man

And ye

So he woke up and wus like

"Oh crap I'm late for my s/o's date😨😨"

Until you barged in and said, "already missed it anyways."

Venti screamed, "AHHHHHHHH"

"Wth I'm not a burglar venti"

"oh, sheesh. Was about to get my bow, so, how.. how did I get here?"

"I carried you."

"Nawwwwwwww jus bc I lie a lot doesent mean u have to too😒😒⁉️⁉️" venti doubted..

"*sigh*.."

You swooped him in your arms and carried him.

"Dayum.. I have a buff s/o here!~ ehe!~"

Hes still sleeping on the couch tho for making you wait 4 hours

Guys I'm done now yey, you can also uhm request any characters reacting to you carrying them, this is actually inspired by somebody but.. I.. I forgor💀💀 but yeah this is just one of my crack posts (expect more in the future) and I'm 13% battery noooooOOoO and it's a sunday tomorrow NOOOOOO

[moeruhoshi]

Lucy sighed as she let her hair out of her tight bun, groaning and falling to sit on her couch.

The day has been filled with meeting after meeting, hours of sitting in a chair placed in the corner of the room.

Her father insisted that she take part in every one, otherwise how was she supposed to know how a company was run?

Between that and private tutor sessions that lasted all morning, she was tuckered out.

She kicked off her heels and unbuttoned the top of her shirt, feeling fatigue claim her body.

Lucy wasn't sure she could go on like this much longer, but her father wasn't keen on giving her breaks. The only time she got was the few hours for sleep alone in her apartment. There were no weekends, no sunshine, no amusement.

The gray colorscheme of this life was never the one she wanted. The money, the business, it meant nothing to her.

But where was she going to go? Without her father, she had nothing. There was nothing for her outside of this world, he made sure of that. His business would be succeeded, that was the only care he had.

Another groan passed through her lips as a heavy knock fell on her door. The ache in her legs carried her to answer it, assuming Jude sent a secretary to deliver papers for the next day.

She opened the door with a polite smile, her breath quickly stolen as they made eye contact.

"Hey, Luce," The thick, burly, voice of the man who stood before her sunk into her bones like a well-lit fire. He stood with his hands in his pockets, that familiar white scarf, and his hansomly wide grin. "It took me a while to find ya, sorry I'm late,"

"Natsu," His name was so distant on her tongue, like a dream she had when she was younger.

It felt like that at times, her world before she was forcefully yanked out of it.

She had friends, happiness, a real life any teenager would want.

Every day was eventful, always different and full of laughs. They did everything together, the whole gang inseparable. They were her first real family.

Levy, Erza, Gray, Gajeel, Juvia, and...Natsu. He was more than a friend, and it was too late by the time she realized it.

They were closer than close, together whenever they could be. She remembered the nights where he snuck into her room, bringing in junk food and video games that her father would never allow through the front door.

They called each other if they couldn't meet up, texted in the middle of class when the teacher wasn't looking. She tutored him in the classes he nearly failed, had her maids sneak her into the kitchen so she could make him lunch. She snuck out of the house to meet him, Natsu taking her around every inch of town. They even saved a stray kitten together, his fur an odd blue shade.

When they held hands, hugged, or he slung his arm around ger shoulders, it just felt right. His whole presence seemed to light up her life, warmed her to the center of her soul.

She lost him, them all, when Jude caught the two kissing on the front porch.

They had been out the whole day, on a picnic and watching the cherry blossoms fall. She made a big lunch with Virgo, packed with Natsu’s favorite things. She always loved the way he got so excited over the things she cooked for him.

It was a day like any other, as they spent so many of them together. But his demeanor seemed off when they got to her front door that night. Suddenly he was shy and quiet, blushing and fidgeting.

His words kept getting jumbled and tugged on his scarf at least a hundred times.

In the end, he settled his confession with an abrupt kiss. His hands wrapped around her waist, the sudden movement making her drop the basket.

And for a first kiss, it was a pleasant embrace. His lips were soft and adorable, puckered against her own. Her eyes closed, a dream-like feeling overwhelming her. Maybe that's when reality took its rightful place, maybe it was always just a dream.

Jude opened the door, yelling at Natsu to let her go. He pulled the pink-haired boy off of her, angrily punching him in the nose.

Lucy screamed as she was dragged inside, not able to make sure Natsu was okay.

Her father had him thrown off the property, barring him or anyone else she knew from coming back.

He moved them out of Magnolia before she knew it, before the school year was over, before she could say goodbye.

And just because of a kiss? Surely that was an overreaction for any parent, but this was a special case.

Natsu came from a jaded family, the Dragneels known for their very shady business dealings. His two older brothers stood by his father's side, and ran things on the street. Though no one could ever prove what they were really doing.

A Dragneel would never be good enough for a Heartfilia, he made sure to drill that in her head.

A scandal with that seedy family could mean ruin, it was already bad enough that he allowed them to be friends.

"Natsu," She said again, his name filling up her heart. It took away her soreness, blew away the dark clouds that shrouded her life. His wide spread grin made butterflies rise in her stomach; she never realized how much she missed this feeling.

"Natsu..." He closed the door as he stepped inside, wrapping her up in his arms.

When was the last time she felt so relaxed? Those few years ago when he kissed her, she assumed.

"You still smell so good," He mumbled into her hair, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

"I missed you so much," She teared up slightly, giggling as he lifted her off her feet and walked them further into her home.

"I missed you too," They both laughed as they fell onto the couch, still tangled in each other's arms.

"What's with the suit?" She asked, smirking as he rolled his eyes.

"Really? Thats your first question? Not how I am or anything normal, weirdo?"

"You always wore hoodies and jeans, don't blame me," She smacked his arm with a small pout.

"It's for work, okay? Duh," He sighed. "Dad insists that I gotta look nice."

"It looks nice on you," She pulled playfully on his tie, Natsu leaning his forehead against hers.

"Its like you never left," He groaned. "Dammit, Luce, its like you never left,"

"I never wanted to leave you," His hands held her face, thumbs rubbing calm circles on her cheek.

"Everyone's been worried sick since, you never called,"

"Father tracks my phone bill," Her chuckle was fitted with annoyance, her fist slightly balled up. "I wanted to,"

"Damn bastard, he's lucky my nose healed," Lucy giggled as he looked away, the blonde gently kissing the ridge.

"What took you so long?" Her lips felt tingly, Natsu's eyes boring into her, as if he could see her soul.

"I had a lot to do before I could come get ya," His voice was suddenly a bit rough, his hands a bit more steady. "I'll take you away, I promised myself I'd come save ya,"

"Really?" Her heart clenched as he nodded, both of them leaning forward.

"I never got to hear what you thought of my kiss," She gulped as he now spoke in a husky whisper. "Do you remember it?"

"Mhm," She felt smothered in a pool of honey, all of her previous worries vanishing with each passing second. Had it felt like this the first time? She only remembered the pain of watching the bloodied Natsu being dragged away by their security team.

Their kiss was gentle at first, like an old memory rising from the dirt of the past. Natsu laid back against the couch, pulling her along with him. His hands stayed cupped on her face, their lips moving in slight sync.

It was a warm embrace that grew as their hunger for more was ignited.

Their kisses became deeper, their hands began to wander and explore each other.

He pulled her tongue into his mouth along with a soft moan, his hands fondling her hips.

"No one taught you how to kiss, right?" Natsu grumbled as he pulled away for a brief moment.

"You're my first and only kiss," Lucy let out a happy gasp as Natsu flipped them over, a slobbering kiss pressed against her cheek.

"Damn right I am," She rolled her eyes and bit her lip as he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a dragon tattoo that wrapped around his torso.

"I wanna be sure, Luce," She frowned as he stopped at the last button. "I know I showed up outta the blue, but you know what I want. So if you can't come with me, I'll understand. Just know that I'm gonna give you the whole fucking world if you do. I fuckin' love you,"

"You're my soulmate," He purred happily, grinning his signature grin as she began to unbutton her own shirt. "Take me wherever you want, Natsu,"

[mybrothershands]

MBH/Dumpling Crossover

featuring @diddlesanddoodles lovely characters and edited by @thundering-sussurus

"No," Cairo said blatantly before Ka had a chance.

Farris eyed Cairo with a deadpan expression.

“Luckily, we ain’t so desperate a condition as to be needin’ yer services,” Farris replied, but there was a single vein along his temple that pulsed in repressed irritation. His eyes moved back up to Ka and he asked, “Ye always let that one talk fer ye?”

The man clamped his hand over Cairo's mouth. A lump had formed in Ka's throat, and he swallowed. "Ah... I, that is." He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Something about the man made him anxious, and he could not help but shuffle in place a bit. "No, I thank you very much for... for letting me work."

He glanced over at the men working the enormous pumpkins. It was so odd to see so many halfling giants in one place. They were a far cry from being human, and yet their weathered hands seemed small and delicate as they worked. Somehow they had cultivated larger foodstuffs, and Ka found himself a bit jealous. They did not look as lumbering or stupid as he must. There were so few foods that were to-scale for his kind, and yet these people seemed to have every luxury and more, even if some of the animals were a bit... unorthodox.

He quickly looked away, realizing he must have been staring. Ka's eyes moved to Nenani, still sitting comfortably in Farris's arm. It was then he realized this must be the man who watched her while she was sick. The giant cocked his head ever so slightly. Maybe there was more to this man.

Ka picked his head up, meeting the little giant's eyes for the first time. They were a piercing pale green, and he felt as if they might bore right through him. He cleared his throat, trying not to look away. "Is there anything I can do in the meantime? Anything at all. Decorations hung, moving tables..." he cringed before offering the next suggestion, thinking of what he might be asked to do to those poor birds, "...unloading the wagon?"

Farris did not miss the heavy reluctance in his voice.

“I know a tenderfoot when I see one. So stop lookin’ like a panicked scullery maid,” Farris admonished.

Scullery maid? Still, Ka nodded at the instructions, more than happy to listen in silence. "Yessir, thank you," he said when Farris was done, then eyed Avery. He was not sure how he felt about being called a beanpole, but, in any case, he seemed to have gotten over his shock well enough. Past that, he did not seem as hard as Farris. None of them did.

Cairo, however, was getting testy at constantly having his mouth shut by giant fingers. "You're gonna suffocate me," the human grumbled when he was finally free. His companion ignored him and listened for instructions.

“Avery and Bart will handle the birds. Yer with Saen on pumpkin duty. They need broken down, cut up, and fried so my bakers can get them into the pies and into the ovens for luncheon service.” He turned around to call out towards the black-haired cook sitting among the piles of pumpkins. “Avery. Come and start in on these birds. I want the first batches roastin’ within the hour.”

Avery stood, looking utterly relieved to be taken off pumpkin duty, and marched towards them. His step faltered, however, as he got his first real look at Ka. But he squared his shoulders and continued towards the cart, trying to play off his momentary hesitation.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, glancing him up and down as he fished two of the birds from the back of the cart. He held one under each of his burly arms. “Who’s the bean pole?”

“Ka’s helpin’ out today,” Farris replied dismissively. “Now shut yer gob and get to it. The spice mixture is in the green jar on the counter. Should be enough fer all of ‘em, so don’t be too heavy handed.” He turned towards Ka and jerked his head in a clear indication for him to follow. “We move fast down here, understand? Ye have a question? Ask it. And I ain’t no babysitter either. Only child down here is the lil’un.”

Farris led him over to the fire pit. A table had been placed nearby, and on it sat a few knives, a long handled wooden spoon, and two large crocks: one of butter and the other of honey. Farris eyed the knives and then said, “I’ll get a more size appropriate knife fer ye. In the meantime, sit down and Yale will be back with yer breakfast.”

"Thank you," Ka said as he approached the pit. He nodded politely to the one called Saen and noticed how the little giant's hair stuck up in the front. At first glance, he looked a bit puckish, though that was yet to be determined. Ka found and palmed the pumpkin Avery had left behind. There was a patch of the orange skin the skin already shaved off, he noted. Taking a moment to study it, Ka sat down near the table and took one of the small knives, despite Farris's offer.

After a few attempts to work with the little knife that felt like a kid's toy in his hand, he seemed to remember something. "Oh, I actually have... my own." He pulled on the strap of his satchel, then flipped the top open, producing a six-foot blade that was definitely not a kitchen knife. It was blunted and had several nicks in it, however, apparently unloved. He reached out, arm easily closing the distance, and held it into the flames for a moment to burn off any filth.

"I am Ka, by the way," he said, eyeing the man who looked about his age. "He told me your name, but... I'm afraid I've already forgotten."

Putting down his own knife, Saen extended a welcoming hand to Ka.

“I’m Saen,” replied the cook with a wide friendly smile. Ka at first reached out with his left hand to shake, but then realized his error and switched the pumpkin to his other hand and shook with his right. It did not feel too small, as he thought it might have. It was more like shaking a boy's hand, though calloused and firm.

"Saen," he repeated.

“And don’t mind Avery none," Sean continued. "He’s got all the tact of a mule and as much sense as a rusted penny.”

“I heard that!” Avery called as he came back up the steps from having delivered the first two birds to Bart.

“Maybe ye were meant to!” Saen retorted with a cheeky grin. Avery threw up a rude gesture as he went to the cart to collect two more birds. Saen just laughed and said, “Ye should be grateful this one came to rescue from prep work. Yer right shit at peeling.”

Yale appeared then at the top of the steps with the two meat pies, bundled up in a clean tea towel. He stopped to talk to Farris for a moment before continuing on towards Ka and Saen.

Nenani pulled at the kitchen master’s shirt to ask a question. “Fine. Just keep outta the way now and don’t be a pest, eh?” Farris warned before crouching down and releasing Nenani onto the ground.

“I won’t,” she promised and scampered along after Yale. Farris eyed the courtyard and the workers within before turning and taking the steps down into the kitchen.

Careful not to touch the still-hot blade, Ka made quick work of the gourd, peeling the skin away in long, thin ribbons. Both Yale and Saen watched with no small amount of awe at how Ka made such fast work of the gourd. With a wide grin, Saen turned to Yale. “Can we keep him?”

The pumpkin fit like a large potato in his hand, so the task really was not that difficult for him. Still, he bit back a smile and pretended to be too focused on his work to notice. Then two sets of feet approached, one big and one small, and he picked up his head. "Hello again," he greeted Yale. Finding Nenani on the ground, he thought it might be safe to release Cairo and set the pumpkin on the table. He double-tapped his chest as a warning before fishing the man out of his pocket.

Cairo grumbled a bit, but stretched as soon as his feet were on the grass. "Stiff as a board," he groaned, then reached his hand in his britches and scratched his rear.

Meanwhile, Nenani walked up to Cairo but stopped a few feet short. She bounced on her heels, a little bashful and said, “Hello.”

The man frowned, eyeing her with a squint. He looked the girl up and down, then squinted further. He turned his head and spit on the ground. "Can I help you?" he growled.

There weren’t many humans in the castle, and Nenani had wanted to ask the man questions about his life with Ka. But any questions she had died on her tongue as she stared down at the floor where Cairo had spit. She made a face and, looking back up, met his gaze with a disapproving frown. “That’s gross.”

He raised a brow. "So it is," Cairo said, a bit bored. He jerked his thumb back towards the kitchen where Farris had disappeared. "That one there, little man, he take care of you?"

She nodded. “Yeah. Everyone in the kitchen kind of does, but Farris is my actual guardian. See?” She reached into the top of her dress to pull out her marker. It was nothing but a simple leather strap with a struck metal medallion, and she held it up to him, showing off the side with Farris’s seal.

Cairo furrowed his brow and gave a simple grunt. "Collared you, then," he said. Still, it was rare he met one who did not fear the giants. Even Ka she had been kind to. Crossing his arms, he studied the piece, but did not move to touch. "Why?"

“It’s not a collar,” Nenani insisted with a mild glare. “It’s supposed to let everyone know I’m allowed to be here and to leave me alone. Because if you don’t have a marker, you might be trespassing. And not everyone here likes humans and might try to hurt you.”

The man regarded her for a moment. That did not bode well for him; then again, he had not planned to leave Ka's side, either. He thought for a moment longer, then spoke slowly. "We don't have anything like that," Cairo began, "but Ka does have a pocket that lets the regular folk know he's safe."

He had detested the idea of the marker at first, but on second thought, it might be quite nice to silently say that one was protected by a giant. A bit of a trophy in his mind. He then looked back and realized something else. "With protection comes..." He paused, trying to think of the correct word, and then realized what a stupid thought he had had. "I don't think it would be proper for me to wear one. It's my job to keep him safe, not the other way around."

She regarded him with confusion at first, looking back towards Ka and all his towering height and substantial bulk and then back at the much smaller Cairo. She smiled knowingly. “That’s what Jae says about Barnaby and Maevis. That Barnaby is more Maevis’s guardian than he is his.” She tucked her marker back inside her dress. “But don’t be worried about not having a marker of your own. Farris’s permission is good enough. No one will bother you while you’re here in the kitchens. I’ve only had one giant try and hurt me since I came here. I threw a pepperseed in his eye.”

Cairo raised his brow. "Good girl," he lauded. "And what did little man do when he found out?"

“Bart told Keral first,” she replied.

“What’s this about Keral?” Yale asked, having heard only the tail end of their conversation. He had moved to the fire pit and the large flat pan that had been placed atop a thin metal rack of sorts to hold it above the fire.

“I was telling him about Thrist trying to eat me that one time,” Nenani answered matter of factly.

Yale growled darkly at that. “Yeah, that swine-faced fucker ain’t gonna be tryin’ that again. He’s lucky Farris wasn’t around or he’d have had his arse fer curtains, and Keral would be down a scout.”

Cairo made an awkward snort before wiping his nose on his shirt. Eat her? What kind of hellish nightmare was this place?

"Do I put the pieces in there?" Ka asked, indicating the pan. He had finished skinning the pumpkin and rolled up his sleeves before uncorking the gourd. In truth, he had heard the conversation as well, but he was already squeamish at the idea and did not think he wanted to hear the rest of the tale.

"Down a scout?" Cairo asked, oblivious to Ka's discomfort. "You mean he ain't dead?"

“Aye, but first slice ‘em thin-like. They’ll cook faster that way,” Saen told Ka. He looked to Yale. “Lil’ man has a point though. Never did figure out how Keral managed to keep Thrist’s neck out of a noose.”

Yale shrugged, lips pinched into a frown. “I suppose bein’ the king’s favorite has it’s perks. So long he keeps him far away from the lass, I’m content with whatever hell trek Keral sent him on.”

Saen turned to Cairo. “Ye see, Thrist is a blue coat ranger. Ye might ‘a spotted one or two of ‘em here and abouts, but mostly they’re out in the provinces and the wilds, keepin’ an eye on things and reportin’ back to Keral who then reports to the King. He’s the captain of the Blue Rangers. Back when the Blood King was still alive, they were a bunch of murdering thugs. But since Keral took over, he’s been tryin’ to bring the order back to its original purpose.”

“He’s also Farris’s brother,” Nenani added.

"Brother," Ka muttered under his breath. There was a wafer-thin sneer on his face that faded as he shook his head. He hollowed out the pumpkin with a finger, holding the orange guts in his palm for a moment before holding them out. "You keep the seeds?" he spoke up in a kinder tone.

"And Farris would have wrent him limb from limb," Cairo said slowly, watching Yale's face as he said it.

“I’m sure he has his reasons, but I can’t say I wouldn’t have paid good coin to see that,” Yale replied. He sighed in resignation. “But Keral isn’t a bad sort, even if his men are pieces of walking rubbish. Probably the most cheerful man in the whole castle. Until ye make him mad and then he looks a lot more like Farris.”

“And his whiskey is top shelf. Got a bottle of it fer my nameday a few years back. But careful," Saen added. He gave Cairo a wink. "It’s got one hell of a kick.”

Ka adjusted his seat, still unsure what to do with the pumpkin guts in his hand. Finding no better place to put them, he tossed the glob into the fire and went to slicing up the pumpkin on the table.

Meanwhile, Cairo put a hand to his heart. "What! You take me for a drunkard? No, no, no no no," he waved both hands before himself. "Lost my uncle to the devil juice," he declared.

“Apologies,” Saen replied, shamefaced, and he raised his hands to placate the human. “Meant no offense. Sorry fer yer loss there, lad.”

Ka promptly knocked the man over with a knuckle. "Dirty liar."

"Hey!" he spat, brushing the dirt from his person as he got up.

The giant turned to meet Sean's eyes. "He likes mead. Had to carry him home half the time-- hey! Don't kick me! Old fart."

"You didn't let me finish," the human growled, glaring up at him. "I had him right where I wanted, too."

"Saen is nice, you shouldn't do that to him," Ka said plainly. This earned him another kick in the shin.

Saen recovered from his surprise quickly, looking to Yale with a haughty grin. “Ye hear that, Yale? I’m nice.”

Yale had grabbed up some of the sliced pumpkins and tossed them onto the pan with a knob of butter, and they began to sizzle. He waved the wooden spoon at his fellow and retorted, “Only ‘cause he’s never seen ye lose at the pebble toss. Or yer tantrum afterwards.”

“Ah, I don’t lose that often,” Saen replied, suddenly defensive.

“Well, the three shillings I won off ye last month say otherwise,” Yale replied as he turned his attention back to the frying pumpkin. He abruptly turned back to Saen as a memory suddenly resurfaced. “And then there was the time ye bit Kol.

“Oi. He stole my sausage,” Saen replied with a frown. “Fair punishment fer the crime.”

“Well, I think you’re nice,” Nenani said and Saen turned to smile at her.

“Why thank you,” he said.

“Even if you bite people,” she added with a grin.

Saen’s smile drooped and he held his arms out in exasperation. “It was one time, and I was drunk off my arse!”

Had Ka been wrong? Maybe his first impression had been right. They were not being rude, at least not to him, but it reminded him how little he knew. He was just an outsider, after all, so decided to keep his mouth shut for a little while. Since Yale had deemed his sliced pumpkin worthy of the frying pan, he regarded the small pile of gourds and wondered just how many pies they planned on making. He shrugged, taking another pumpkin and tossed end over end a up a couple times before setting to peeling again.

Cairo, however, had no such convictions. "You," he said, hammering a finger at Saen, "I like you." He crossed the lawn towards him, much to Ka's dismay. "So what's this about the king's whiskey," he paused, recollecting, "and what the ripe devil is a nameday, for that matter?"

Saen began slicing up more pumpkins but paused at Cairo’s question, regarding the human with a look of horror.

“Ye mean ye don’t have namedays where yer from?” Saen asked. “To celebrate ye bein’ a year older?”

The human squinted up at him. "It's a birth-day, you fool. Because it was the day you were...?" He shrugged. "Unless you hatched from an egg. I suppose you do look a bit like a lizard, then."

Saen slid his knife through the flesh of the pumpkin and paused, staring off into space as he realized the silly mistake he had made. “Oh. Birthdays...huh. Yeah, those.”

Off to the side, Nenani laughed. Saen sent a brief glare her way, but it left soon as it came and he moved on. “As fer the whiskey, it’s ain’t the king’s. Keral’s a bit famous fer his whiskey round here. He doles it out to those he deems worthy of it every once in a while. Farris may still have a bottle. Ask ‘im nice like and he may give ye a nip.”

“Best wait till end of day though,” Yale advised in good humor. “We ain’t bluffin’ about it havin’ a right kick. And we don’t need ya wanderin’ ‘round only fer ye to lose yer footin’ and fall arse end into the fire.”

Saen snickered. “Yeah, just ask Jae."

"Mmh," Cairo grumbled, waving his hand. "Never been one to ask nicely myself." He knocked twice on Saen's shin.

At the motion, Ka watched the man with round eyes and slowly shook his head back and forth. Still, Cairo did not seem to care, and repeated the motion.

Saen looked down curiously and titled his head. “May I be of assistance?”

By now, Ka was visibly shaking his head, openly nervous. The human either did not notice or simply ignored him. "Up, I said," Cairo laughed. He eyed the orange stains on his hand. "Wipe your grubby hands off first, mind you. I don't want to smell like rotten fruit in an hour."

“Oh. Alright then,” said the cook, pleasantly surprised. He sat his knife down and roughly wiped his hands onto his apron before bending down. There was a moment’s hesitation as Saen tried to think of the best way of picking the man up. Unlike Nenani, Cairo was an adult and therefore taller and with considerably more heft to him. In the end, he used the same technique he employed with the little girl, which was to shove his hands under the human’s arms and lift him up. Perhaps it was simply that he was more accustomed to the weight of a small human child, but Saen was a little taken aback by just how much heavier Cairo was. Though really he shouldn’t have been. He did his best to not let it show on his face as he lifted the man onto a clean spot on the table.

Cairo winced a bit as the giant pinched the old wound in his ribs. Once set down, he let out a puff of air and brushed himself off. "Boy you got little girly hands, don't you?"

"Cairo..." Ka warned, though this time did not bother to look up. His stomach rumbled again, and it was then he remembered the pies Yale had brought. He hurried to finish skinning the pumpkin.

Saen tucked his hands under his armpits and pouted. “...don’t have girly hands...”

From the fire pit, Yale started to laugh.

The human took a bow. "My apologies, Princess. Would you like me to kiss your ring?"

With a sudden devilish smirk, Saen grabbed a piece of sliced pumpkin and pushed his ring finger through it and then shoved it in Cairo’s face. “Go on then.”

Yale turned to Ka. “Sorry about that one. I’d say he’s normally not like this...but I’d be lying.”

The big man shrugged. "Don't apologise to me yet. Mine may do worse," he said as he chopped up the pumpkin on the table. Just as he said it, Cairo pricked up as though offended.

"What!" he growled, scrunching up his face at the slimy vegetable.

The human's mood seemed to change then, and he put on a mask of haughtiness. "Your grace, I was only jesting! I wouldn't dare touch thine ring. Tis too great an honor for a lowlife such as myself... but if you insist--" He then took not the ring finger, but Saen's middle finger, and bowed before it. Cairo then proceeded to stick his tongue out and lick the knuckle.

“Oi now!” Saen snapped loudly, pulling back his hand in disgust, but the force of the movement caused his pumpkin ring to fly off of his hand and up into the air. And when it came back down again, it landed on top of Ka’s head.

The little man roared with laughter, while his giant friend was left with a sticky bit of pumpkin in his hair. Ka sat there a moment, eyes distant and unmoving. At last he drew a deep breath, let it out slow, and deadpanned, "Your highness, I think you have lost your ring."

Nenani covered her mouth with her hands to stifle a giggle, looking back and forth between them. Saen drew a breath to make a retort when a bellow sounded from the archway.

“I’M HEARIN’ A LOT ‘A TALKIN’ AND NOT A LOT ‘A WORKIN!”

Both Saen and Yale, more than accustomed to Farris’s hollering, turned their focus to their work. Nenani, still growing use to the sheer volume her guardian voice could achieve, was startled badly and jumped.

Ka gasped and hunched his shoulders at the sound. "Sorry!" he squeaked, though he knew the man could not hear him. He took the pumpkin from his head and pitched it into the fire. It had been a fairly solid piece, but his hair was still sticky in places from the stuff. Cairo, he noticed, had not budged other than to turn in the direction of the voice and square his shoulders as if to fight.

The giant then caught sight of Nenani still pulling herself together. "Are you okay, little one?" Ka murmured.

She blinked up at him and then nodded with a small sheepish smile. “Yeah. I’m still getting used to how loud Farris gets sometimes.”

“Bit of a wonder we ain’t all deaf,” Yale murmured to Ka with a suppressed grin.

“Do you ever yell like that?” Nenani asked Ka. The question came more from a curiosity about Ka’s height. Farris was one of the taller giants she had met and Ka towered over him. If Ka were to get as angry, she wondered if he was that loud.

Ka glanced from Nenani to Yale and then back again. He shook his head as he reached for one of the pies. He hesitated, remembering Farris's call, and chose to grab another pumpkin instead. "I haven't raised my voice since I was a boy," he admitted. "People get nervous when I use my normal voice, so I try to be quiet."

"Y'ain't that bad," Cairo growled.

Yale gave Ka a strange look. “Nervous? Why would they be nervous? I agree with yer brother. That’s plain stupid. What’s other people’s business if yer voice is a tad loud?” Yale gave Ka an appraising look. “Fer as tall as ye are, ye don’t seem to care fer the attention.”

“I always thought it would be really inconvenient to be really tall,” Nenani mused. She had found a small rock on the ground and had picked it up and was idly passing it between her hands.

Saen laughed and replied, “We could say the same fer ya small folk being so short. Ye get winded just climbin’ the damn stairs.”

Ka shrugged at Yale's question, but found the words strengthened him a bit. Even if the man was a giant in his own respect, it felt good to hear some encouragement on the subject. "You are... much more confident than I," he decided.

The giant shook his head as he peeled. His voice got quiet and apprehensive. "I've scared people before. Humans, mostly. I don't like it." He forced a laugh. "Maybe I worry too much."

Cairo picked his teeth. Upon finding something, he pulled it out on his fingernail, then stuck it back in his mouth. "Sure do," he grumbled. He turned to Sean and curled his lip. "I don't have to climb your stairs, midgey boy."

Saen grinned and poked the human’s middle. “Maybe ye should start,” he quipped.

Near the pit, Yale was considering Ka with a little more of a critical eye. He took the sight of him in and his words and pieced more of the puzzle together. He understood easily the apprehension that came with interacting with humans, though he and the rest of the staff and Farris all made jokes and snarky remarks about popping them into stews and pies. It was all a balm against the festering wounds left behind by the war. It was easy to joke to and make light of it all. It was their morbid way to reconcile with the very real evils they had done. That Farris had done for them. To save them. But Yale held himself just as responsible as Farris. No matter what the kitchen master told him. He too remembered those faces...

He looked to Nenani then, who was watching them with an open curiosity. Innocent. She knew only bits and pieces, and even then, he wasn’t sure she knew anything of the whole truth. If she did, she never let on.

He took the slices of cooked pumpkin and dropped them into a shallow earthenware dish. Staring at the other slices still sizzling along the hot metal pan, he spoke to Ka.

“Didn’t use to be. Confident I mean,” Yale admitted to him. “When I was younger. Durin’ the war and all. Scared a lot of humans in my life. And I'm talkin' real terror. Wasn’t my choice to do it, but I did.”

Ka was silent for a moment, trying to think over Cairo's angry exchange with Saen. The humans here had been foolish enough to wage war with the giants? Behind that, what had they done to deserve their wrath? He shook his head and decided to ignore it. "I... haven't had to kill anyone, fortunately. There was that one, erm, accident with a dragon rider, but..." Ka shrugged as he rolled the pumpkin over in his palm, unsure how to finish his sentence.

He then glanced over to where Nenani stood and recalled how protective Yale had been of her. If so much had happened to him, how had he recovered so well? He himself had been a mess the time he had hurt Cairo. Then again... "I suppose there are bad humans just as there are bad giants," he finished.

Yale nodded with grim understanding at Ka’s words. There was no need for him to say anything else as his meaning was plain as well as his regret. It only served to confirm in Yale’s mind the kind of man he was and it brought forth a feeling of smug contentment. He wasn’t always as good a judge of character as Farris, but he wasn’t bad either. He felt pride in knowing his initial assessment of Ka had been right.

[shadlad24]

More Funny Little Moments #1: Season 1, Episodes 1-12

So, I decided to do this post after all. Halp. LOL Because I apparently LOVE giving myself a bunch of unnecessary work, I decided to choose two to three extra moments, per episode! SUPER halp! X’D Anyway, these are moments that didn’t make the cut for my FFLM series because: my sense of humor is a little weird, they were gonna be too much work (LOL/Siiigh), I like to highlight patterns, and I don’t like a lot of repetition. [Links to each FFLM along the bottom of the post. :)]

Let’s start with something I originally agreed with other fans on but have since changed my mind. A lot of people didn’t like this part of “Chariots of War” because it seems so ludicrous that Xena would forget her chakram anywhere. Well, let me tell you! This lady has left her weapons behind most episodes thus far. I didn’t note it every time here (and especially didn’t bother with her whip) because that’d really overrun the post buuuuut… You’ll see. XD

1.01 Sins of the Past

Xena’s shift being so much dirtier than the little boy’s clothes though she’s high up off the ground, and he lives in smoked-out rubble.

Yup. Xena forgot her sword (and later, her main saddlebag) at her mother’s tavern. Pft.

Sorry these were kinda lame, but I didn’t want to re-use any more of the original fifteen points I made about this episode... Ah well. Moving on! (heh)

1.02 Chariots of War

Xena loses her sword after the chariot crash, taking up and discarding Sphaerus’s but walking off without her own. (See her front and back and both of Argo’s sides.)

Gabrielle chewing Xena out, Xena being bummed about it, and Argo being surprised. X’D

1.03 Dreamworker

This got me good. Gabrielle does Xena’s war cry so well here that I really thought it was Xena for a few seconds. Realizing it was GabbyWabs only made me chuckle more because she apparently can’t do it when it really counts in “The Greater Good.”

Argo NOT being on Team Gabrielle. XD (Their feud is a little funny to me.)

1.04 Cradle of Hope

Xena tossing aside her sword after killing Nemos. Extras even dance and celebrate right on top of it! Wut thuh?

I decided to avoid mentioning Hope in the FFLM because Xena’s quote here is more ironic than comedic, and Gabrielle’s little face is just so sad, but I didn’t want to let it pass by entirely unremarked upon. At least GW gets to show off her oracle skills again? :’)

1.05 The Path Not Taken

So, Xena and Gabrielle walk into a bar… Heh. No, but really, they enter this tavern for the first time ever, yet the bartender not only knows what they want, he knows that they’re coming and has their drinks waiting for them too. All Xena has to do is knock on the counter and nod to get her fire-breath alcohol/oil, and Gabrielle barely has the word “cider” out of her mouth before the guy hands it to her. Xena, like me, is duly amazed.

Lucy, through Xena, making another timely anti-peanut statement. I just didn’t want to do the same thing twice back-to-back in the FFLM. X)

1.06 The Reckoning

Gabrielle thinking along the same lines Xena and I did about this poor excuse for a judge.

Me not being well-versed in ancient Greek heroes and picturing the fool who Draco killed so handily in the first episode. heh

1.07 The Titans

I’ll let Xena explain this one. …Mostly. I can’t believe Gabrielle not only sassed the Titans such that she unashamedly put Xena and Phyleus in danger too, but also kinda got this (admittedly awful) town demolished and didn’t lift a finger to actually help anyone in the temple. Tsk tsk. XP

So… Hyperion here can smash homes and businesses that were probably well-built and reinforced and all, but he can’t get his hand out of a stocks-cuff that was made in a single evening with scraps from those destroyed buildings. He also, inexplicably, has no use of his left hand or the power-breath that he used to knock Gabrielle over. Okie. XD

1.08 Prometheus

Is this really a thing? I was giggling quite a bit in disbelief that severed windpipes can heal. Like, perforated is one thing; completely bisected? Yeah, I don’t think so.

Gabrielle being incredulous upon learning that Xena has other friends, realizing what the warrior princess means, and then wondering if that could be her one day. 

   1.09 Death in Chains

Gabrielle enjoying watching Xena kill someone for the first time, then quickly realizing that fact. Whoops.

I found this moment really odd and then kind of hilarious. This poor dying old woman begs for water and goes ignored not only by the hospice workers, but also Talus and Gabrielle. Then Talus decides to be helpful. Gabrielle goes to the woman and lets her talk a lot (undoubtedly drying her mouth and throat even more), hears that Xena might be in danger, and then just… leaves. Talus goes with her, not having gotten water from the well after all. What a couple of jerks! XD

1.10 Hooves & Harlots

I really don’t know why Gabrielle kept making this face as Terreis died, but it tickled my funny bone too. So, I provided alternate subs to go with it. [Did you notice how she kind of cringes when Terreis tries to hold her hand and then just lets the Amazon flop once she’s died, flinging her hand aside like, “Ew, get it off me!”? What was that all about? X”) Hm… maybe she has an aversion to dying people, and that’s why she abandoned the old lady last episode?]

Gabrielle being a smart aleck, just like me, because Phantes’s complaint here is so ludicrous. But then you see the close-up of little hoofies in cuffs too, and, if you’re anything like me too, kinda just topple over laughing. The poor actual horse they did this to, though, man! What even?

Gosh, this episode was chockfull of hilarity, eh? Why did this happen? Gabby, take it away!

1.11 The Black Wolf

I laughed at this too. But now I wonder. Is Xerxes related to Caesar and/or connected to Rome or something? Because Xena does this twice around them too. In “When in Rome,” she jokes that the two guards lost playing tag with her, and in “A Good Day” she informs Pompey that if there were more guards hiding around their meeting space, then she would have had more helmets. heh Oh, Xenie. I think I know why Gabrielle’s turning out to be such a little punk ...or vice versa? Is Gabrielle actually a bit of a bad influence on Xena? XP

So, this fight just struck me as really odd. Xena passes her sword to Flora though she (Xena) needs to battle the big boss of the episode, and… actually, is totally right. The king throws a single wide-ass punch, waits while Xena kicks the guy behind her a few times, lets himself get kicked in the face a couple of times, and then comes at her with a little piece of chain, presumably from the restraints that were intended to keep Flora in place during her execution. Sir, you have a sword! A giant sword, right there on your hip! What are you doing? Then, when Xena kicks him a final time and sends him flying, his (supposed-to-be) metal armor is no match for the splintered wood of the axe she broke earlier. …Okie. XD XD XD   *gif below*

Xena once again leaves her chakram somewhere. …And I am now imagining this being part of Gabrielle’s maid duties: the poor kid has to go find Xena’s weapons each night and bring them back to her. I’m especially imaging the fluffball hilariously, adorably struggling to get the chakram out of things like this wall, as she did with Xena’s sword in the tree stump in “Dreamworker,” but more parallel to the floor. Cuuuute! XD

This plus this 

*pic + GIF below*:

1.12 Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

This scene too really made me wonder, though amused as well. Why is Gabrielle so surprised that the only city nearby, that they were headed to, is the one they find? Is she really being that loud? Is Xena goofing around with the bootlaces question? Why startle Gabrielle and then yank her into enemy territory screaming, when what you want is quiet? What’s with the trapdoor-spider soldiers? Xena’s pose throwing the chakram. XD Gabrielle mostly featherlight dance-y moves through the battlefield. XD XD XD Why is it that when Xena tells Gabrielle to stick right behind her, Gabrielle disappears? And what was with the bucket-sitting soldier? Gabrielle is like, “Oh; no, thank you!” when she sees him and turns tail. Then Xena ...follows her. “We’re goin’ this way! Now we’re goin’ that way!” But they still end up dead-ahead from where they burst out of the bushes. XD That was ridiculous and nonsensical, and I’m very confused but had lots of fun. heheheh  *gif below* [ETA: Darn! The original file was too big, so I had to remake the GIF and cut quite a few things out. :( Sorry]

Xena’s outta-nowhere crusade to emasculate Deiphobus coming full-circle. What was that all about?

Welp, I hope you had as much fun as I originally and then later did. Not so much in the middle with the collage-and-GIF-making and editing and redoing, but; y’know. XD Wouldn’t trade it for …Hm… Nevermind. LOL

If you missed any of the FFLMs, then please click on the corresponding number-links below. :D

#1  #2  #3  #4  #5 #6 #7 #8 #9 #10 #11 #12

[yoshichao]

the Smashers and their Host - Chapter ??? Preview

Series: Super Smash Bros.

Characters: Reader, Literally Everyone In Super Smash Bros Ultimate

Summary:  You’re an inter-dimensional being that owns a huge estate situated on the cusp of spacetime. You’ve been asked to rent out your mansion for the upcoming Super Smash Bros. tournament. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Reader-Insert, Romantic & Platonic Harem, Comedy, Fluff, No Smut

Read the fic here!

[hi a year ago i was writing a chapter about characters getting sick but then a pandemic happened, making this no longer as fun to write. as a result i’m not going to be posting this one for awhile... but i’m going to share the beginning portion of it anyways. hope you enjoy?]

"Room service!" you call out, peeking into the room with a friendly smile and a tray in your hands. Upon your arrival, Marth sits up in his bed and tries to offer a smile in return... but it is visibly weak, marred by puffy eyes and a flushed face.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise." The Altean prince's voice sounds different from what you're used to. It sounds like he has a stuffed nose... which he does, of course. "If anyone was to be bringing me soup, I would have expected it to be Peach."

You step fully into the room, nudging the door shut behind you with your hip before making your way over to the bed where the prince lies. "It was Peach's idea to make soup for everyone," you confirm, "but after we started delivering it to people, I think the full brunt of the illness hit her too and I told her to go lay down."

Upon discovering that over half the Smashers residing in your mansion had come down with a cold, you took it upon yourself to be a good host and play a part in helping everyone make a full recovery. Of course, having lived alone and illness-free for god-knows-how-long, you were a bit at a loss at what to do... and thankfully Peach was all-too-happy to lend a hand. You recall she seemed tired from the beginning but did her very best to hide it, and an hour and a cauldron of hot soup later, the exhaustion seemed to hit the princess all at once. It took some doing, but you eventually managed to convince her that you and the rest of the team could take it from there. She (and Samus, who was rooming with her while mansion repairs were still being done) was one of the first people you delivered to, and her warm, grateful smile was enough to convince you that you could do this. You can trek across the mansion for hours to deliver supplies to forty or so different people all day.

Even with your handy "shortcuts", it's more draining than you thought.

"Oh dear." Marth chuckles weakly at your explanation. "Thinking about it... for as long as we've been in Smash together, I don't think I've ever seen her fall ill before... I suppose I didn't even imagine it happening to her."

You have a feeling that Peach has gotten sick in the past - she is just very good at hiding it and powering through it. You're certain she would have continued doing that this time as well had you not convinced her otherwise. However, instead of saying any of this, you simply shrug while placing the tray on the bedside table.

"Well, she is a princess. You can't have royalty looking all unkempt and snotty - that wouldn't be right at all."

Marth needs a moment before he realizes… you are making a jab at him. The prince is flustered for a moment before he lets out a laugh, which you respond in turn with a cheeky grin.

“Do I look that bad?”

He is visibly unwell, but you feel inclined to soften the blow to his vanity. “Nah, I’m just teasing. Anything else you need before I go?” You can’t help but glance around Marth’s room under the guise of checking if anything in particular is missing. You respect your guests’ privacy, so you haven’t been in many of their rooms after the move-in - including Marth’s. His room is fairly plain and orderly - the only thing that really screams “Marth” in here is the mannequin that is adorned with his familiar Smash garb. Said mannequin also holds his sword, Falchion. You suppose storing an outfit with armour on it in this fashion is easier than trying to keep it in the closet or in a drawer. Though considering you don’t see any other articles of clothing lying about, perhaps the closet is just full?

...How many clothes does this guy have?

You’re curious now, but decide not to pry.

“Thank you, but I should be fine,” Marth replies, bringing your attention back to him. “You’ve done enough already. Merely visiting me was plenty - you’ve certainly been a sight for sore eyes.”

For a moment, you’re flustered… but then you remember this man is currently sick in bed. His thoughts are probably a bit jumbled and unfiltered. And really, who wouldn’t feel better knowing there was someone bringing them soup? Beauty comes from kindness and within, et cetera et cetera. All these excuses and more fill your head as you effortlessly wave away Marth’s silly words - you, a sight?! Ha ha! Why, isn’t that saying often used platonically as well? Yes? Maybe? You are drawing a blank.

You’re so lost in denial that you forget to respond aloud. Marth seems to take your silence and (unbeknownst to you) goofy smile the wrong(?) way and starts stammering out an apology, possibly growing even more embarrassed than you are.

“I-I didn’t mean… What I meant by that was… Well, it’s not that I didn’t mean it, but I mean, I find you… quite… um…”

“If you want a sight, next time you need something I’ll be sure to send in the cutest maid we have on staff,” you joke, easily shifting the conversation to more comfortable territory. Marth relaxes at the topic shift and chuckles lightly, still looking a bit embarrassed.

“I’ll never live that moment down, will I?”

“Nope!” Your first embarrassing encounter with any of the Smashers has been so diluted by increasingly hectic and bizarre moments that you find it more funny than embarrassing these days. Well, you say “these days” like it wasn’t just a couple weeks ago that that happened… So much has happened since then that it feels like it has almost been two whole years! Really, it feels like the tournament should have started by now. Crazy how time works like that, huh? Ha ha.

Anyways.

“Anyways,” you say aloud, not sure where that oddly guilty train of thought came from. It was almost like someone was trying to speak through you to express their feelings. But that’s ridiculous! Best not to think about it anymore. “I’ve got more soup deliveries to make, so if you need anything, just…”

Oh. Oh wait you don’t have a system in place for this, do you? And you’re pretty sure most of the Smashers don’t have cell phones… Gah, you knew you should have implemented an internal phone line! Maybe you can ask Master Hand to sneak it in there while doing mansion renovations for future needs. If you do it, you’d have to do it in every single room one by one, which sounds exhausting. You already have a lot on your plate today!

“Don’t worry,” Marth says, “it’s only a cold. If I need anything, I have enough strength to get it myself.”

You open your mouth to protest but… actually, he has a point. It’s not like anyone seems to be sick with the flu or anything. And most of the Smashers are adults - they are all perfectly capable of getting up and retrieving anything they may need or want. Well, R.I.P. to anyone staying on the top floor because you still don’t have an elevator, but… they can at least leave a message on the door or something. Whatever.

This is already proving to be a very good learning experience at how unsuitable your mansion is in its current state for hosting this many people. You’ll have enough experience and knowledge by the end of this that you could run a rental business in your realm if you wanted.

“Well, if anything changes and you start having trouble, just leave a note outside the door,” you decide definitively. Going door-to-door to check on people would be tiring (and you’d also risk disturbing people who are sleeping) - but taking a walk through the halls every couple hours to check for notes or whatever? Easy. Even your shortcut-less partners could manage that.

Speaking of your partners, you should really be getting a move on.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Marth replies, wordlessly giving you the go ahead to skedaddle on outta here. “Thank you again for this.”

And he gives you such a kind and warm smile despite his ailment that you are practically stumbling out of the door, unable to figure out why it feels like there are butterflies inside you.

...Helping people out is good. That’s all.

Shaking away the strange feelings this encounter brought, you pop yourself back into the kitchen, where you are instantly greeted with the smell of hot soup. The room is warm thanks to the literal cauldron y’all made a day’s worth of soup in with Peach’s help, which remains on perpetual heat. There are only two Smashers in the room right now: femme Robin, who is using a laddle to scoop the soup into bowls and prepare the trays for delivery, and R.O.B., who is just on his way out with a tray balanced on his metallic arms. He stops when he sees you appear from nothingness, staring silently at you for a moment before turning his head back to a neutral position and rolling out of the room. Shrugging off the encounter, you approach Robin and the table of food trays.

“A couple more down - how many are left?” You spot the stack of trays that haven’t been prepared yet, each with a Smasher’s name stickied onto them. “Oh. That’s how many…”

“You work a lot faster than the boys do,” Robin chuckles, her voice notably different-sounding than usual. You’re pretty sure she’s sick too, but unlike Peach, she hasn’t been overwhelmed by it yet and waves away any concerns you’ve thrown her way. “R.O.B. can only carry one order at a time, and the Pikmin keep spilling or dropping things… or eating it. Shulk is… well, I think the stairs are too much for him.”

“That’s understandable,” you chuckle. Yeah, your team is not the greatest for this job. But you’re still thankful for the help. “You are giving him orders for people on the lower floors though, right?”

Robin gives you A Look before gesturing to the soup and the pile of crackers and bread… among other world-specific foods that are apparently good to eat when sick. “Hey, I’m busy putting everything together here! I don’t have time to tell everyone where to go! Just pick up a tray and go, that’s what I’ve been saying.”

Oh geez, not even you’re completely familiar with the rooms that the Smashers chose for themselves. You can imagine Shulk having to search every floor just to find the name he’s been looking for is on the top… Thankfully Peach managed to round up any and all roommate scenarios before leaving to rest, or else this could be even more hectic.

“Fair enough,” you relent, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the others’ hardships. It is admittedly funny to think about, but you intend to work hard enough so no one tires themselves out at what would otherwise be an endless task. You’re hoping that after this first round, you’ll all have a break when you only have to deal with specific orders… until dinner time, of course. Then this chaos will begin again.

“Ugh, and no one has even delivered food to my poor, sweet Lucy yet!” Robin groans dramatically, hand to her head like she’s acting in a movie. “Here I am, selflessly toiling away for the sake of everyone else, while my only daughter continues to suffer! Oh, won’t somebody deliver this soup to her in my stead?”

“Uh… Yeah, sure, I could do that. Or if you’d want I could stay here while you--”

“Oh you will?!” Robin cuts you off before you can finish, grinning as she scoops up the tray with Lucina’s name taped onto it and forces it into your arms. “You’re a lifesaver! A knight in shining armour! I’m sure she will be SO happy to know someone as sweet as you is looking out for her…”

With an awkward (but amused) hum, you accept the tray and adjust it so you’ll be able to grab a couple more. Before you can start browsing the selection though, Robin starts coughing - first soft, but then she’s leaning over and hacking into her arm. Uh oh. “Robin, why don’t you go lie down? I think the rest of us can take care of things from here.”

“No no, I’m fine. Really,” she says, considerably less bombastic than before as she manages a smile. You can tell that it’s forced. “Someone has to prepare all this food and look after the kitchen!”

She’s… not exaggerating. Olimar’s Pikmin tend to sample the selection any time they’re in here to pick up another delivery. And then there was the one time Kirby came in today…

...Best not to think about that nightmare.

“Well… maybe you can at least take a break?” you suggest, not wanting her condition to get any worse via pushing herself too hard. You all may need the help, but… you’re sure you can manage! “There aren’t too many trays left to prepare--” Ten isn’t much, right? How much work could it possibly be to put food on a tray? ��--and we could just have Shulk or R.O.B. watch the kitchen.” You’d volunteer yourself, but like Robin said, you kind of are the most efficient person on hand right now. Even Palutena has this cold - there’s no one with teleportation powers well enough to lend a hand.

Robin puts a hand to her face, clearly considering your offer. You notice how tired she looks now that she’s not overcompensating her energy to hide it. “Oh, but…”

“You could bring a tray with you,” you tempt. “Go lie down, eat, maybe read or watch a movie? Then maybe in an hour if you feel alright you can come back…?”

The tactician is silent, envisioning the possibilities you are proposing. Finally, she nods and steals a random tray, ripping off the name and sticking it on one of the empty ones. “Alright, you got me. I’m convinced. Say hi to Lucy for me, okay?!”

With a cheeky grin, she leaves the room with food in tow. Briefly you wonder if she had been looking for an excuse to go sit down for a while now…

After Robin is gone, you start browsing the trays so you can deliver more than one order in a single trip. Should you try for a bunch on the same floor as Lucina, or should you grab some for higher floors instead so your partners can catch a break? Just as you think you’ve made a decision, a certain Monado Boy enters the room with an empty food trolley.

“I ran into Robin on the way here,” Shulk says in lieu of a greeting. He looks tired, but devoid of any cold symptoms that everyone else seems to have. “She said she was taking a break but seemed rather… excited about it. I don’t suppose that means we’re down another member?”

“I guess we’ll find out if she comes back or not,” you chuckle. You’re pretty sure Robin is a fairly reliable person but… she can be rather sneaky about her true intentions. “Either way, I think we’ll be fine! We can do this!”

Your positivity is infectious; Shulk returns the smile, albeit weaker than yours. While you’re certain he’s probably just tired from running around so much to help people, you can’t help but ask him again:

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re not sick too or anything?”

Shulk shakes his head. “I told you before, I don’t seem to have it. Really, I don’t feel sick at all.”

When you asked him earlier, he told you that he had a weird history of never getting sick at the same time as his friends. He just never seemed to catch the same bugs as them. His explanation for it was as good as yours - which was no explanation, because he doesn’t know how it happens either. Just luck and coincidence, probably. When you try to imagine Smashers with strong immune systems, Shulk would have never been at the top of the list. He just… he looks so frail! But you can’t fight the facts: he’s one of the only human Smashers who is still perfectly healthy right now.

“How about you?” Shulk asks, returning the question. “You haven’t started feeling sick, right?”

He must be worried that you are going to ditch him too. “Nope! Like I said earlier: I don’t get sick. Like, at all.” You honestly can’t remember the last time you had gotten sick. Certainly not since you “moved into” this world, which was… well, it’s been awhile! Assumedly, it’s just one of the many perks of who you are and the realm you live in. Regardless, it’s been long enough that you’re convinced that “virus immunity” is one of your many undefined abilities.

Unfortunately for you, “not being a clumsy fool” is not one of your cool superpowers.

“Oh no!” You let down your guard for just a moment and accidentally let the trays in your hands tip, dumping all the food and utensils onto the ground. Man, you’ve been doing so good today! Shulk helps you clean it up, but a certain issue remains.

"Ugh, what if specific foods were on those?" you bemoan aloud. "I can't remember what came from each tray…" And you don't know anyone's tastes well enough to remake them. Though you suppose you could just leave the soup plain… put a bit of everything on the side…

"Who were they for?"

"Lucina, Yoshi, and Villager."

"In that case, I think…" Shulk picks up a blue-and-white bag among the mess. "...this is for Villager."

This makes perfect sense. "Now for Yoshi… probably all the fruit?”

Shulk ponders for a second, then nods. This also makes perfect sense. The two of you put all the bananas, berries, and peppers onto Yoshi’s tray.

“That just leaves the soup for Lucina!” You grin and rush over to the still-warm soup pot and fill a new bowl. “That was easier than I thought.” You are pretty sure you didn’t make any mistakes whatsoever. Except… wait a minute.

“Didn’t I deliver this earlier?” At your query, Shulk glances over to the particular tray you’re pointing at. It’s labelled for Peach and Samus, but you’re certain that this was one of the first deliveries you made!

...Wasn’t it?

“Um.” Shulk seems just as puzzled as you were. “Honestly, I’m not sure…”

You try to reach further back into your memory, but it seems to get further and further the more you try. Today’s events have been a blur of chaos and confusion. “...I guess I’ll just do it again??” It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember doing it, if the tray is here then that means you have to deliver it! You pick up the tray and put it on your trolley, then start loading the trolley up with more and more trays until it’s full.

“Oops, I almost forgot…” You turn and look at Shulk, who is also loading up a trolley. “Shulk, can you take Lucina’s? Robin asked me to, but I’m out of space.”

The two of them seem like good friends anyways, you’re sure Lucina will be more happy to see Shulk than to see you.

“Sure thing.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you start pushing your food trolley out of the room. As soon as you’ve exited the kitchen, you warp to the second floor of the mansion. Static dances on your skin from the instant transmission, but you ignore it as you approach Peach’s room.

[hello again its me, this is the end of the preview. there wasn’t much to it and it ends on such a Nothing note but i hope you liked it regardless. one day this will end up in the fic, but not anytime soon i think lol. i hope you have a good day/night.]

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch 20 Starella

Poppy was exhausted.

All the hard working running around crawling through tunnels and cleaning everything even with help was hard. Didn't help that she also had to fix a hole in the attic. Luckily for her Hattie did have some nails and a hammer, so fixing it took at most seven minutes tops. But she still was feeling really exhausted. So she grabbed one of those adult sized dresses from the wardrobe which to be honest, she didn't find attractive at all. Both were a dark blue color with white laced collars and sleeves, studded with a row of obvious fake rubies. But hey. She needed something to wear if Snatcher was offering to repair her old blue one. So after a quick dip in the bathtub and brush of her teeth she returned wearing the gaudy thing and her old dress folded neatly to be handed to him. He sorta stared at her for a moment with her long slightly wet hair clinging to her and the strange dress she wore. But she didn't say anything other than what sounded as a mumbled thanks before taking the dress and a moment later disappearing in that cloudy mist of purple without a good bye. She supposed with all those letters cuz they weren't there after he disappeared. She was SO tired. She swore she could drop to the carpet right now and sleep for another thousand years or more.

Poppy yawned loudly and stretched out her back which popped, but didn't get much time to relax before a few tugs came from her dress and she looked down with a hum to meet the eyes of the children smiling up at her. "Yes?"

"Can you please read us a bed time story?," Bow asked politely smiling up at her. "Snatcher said our reward for helping was any story we wanted!"

"And I....*yaaaawn* suppose he told you I'd read it huh?" Both nodded and she sighed reaching a hand up to rub her face. "Oh, alright. G-Go take a bath and brush up. I-I'll meet ya'll there."

Honestly she was expecting a hallway to a child's bedroom to be less...I don't know...intimidating? But the dark purple carpet with black vines woven into them was something that sent a shiver down her spine. It was so spooky, but she bit her tongue and made it to her destination. All she remembered was flopping face first into the pillow pile and closing her eyes for just a moment to relax before those youngins came back a looking for her and demanding their story. Which is exactly what happened. She guessed she must've dozed off because she was violently shook back awake with a snort from her and she tiredly blinked those tired eyes open to two little smiling girls, dressed in star and cat printed pjs, and Hattie holding a book in her hands.

"Storytime!," Hattie loudly shouted and shoved the book at her in excitement.

Poppy blinked at it tiredly for a moment before sighing and picking up the book. "A-Alright. *YYAAWWWWNNN* Y-You two go get in bed and I'll Just..b-be there in a sec." She yawned loudly again as the two scrambled for the giant bed as she got up and walked over to it. Plopping herself down at the end of it and looking at them. The bed was big enough for three adults so there was easily enough room for the both of them there snuggled down in the blanket surrounded by toys. Smiling and eargerly awaiting for the reward Snatcher had promised them. Well she couldn't just not give them a story. With a yawn she turned to the book in her hands and blinked at the title. A single orange-red silhouette of a woman stood on the cover. "Starella?"

Hattie nodded. "Yeah! DJ Grooves gave it to us. He said it's the most popular story right now! We really like it! Please read it!"

Poppy gave a small smile and a smaller yawn. "Alright. Just settle down now." Turning her blue tired eyes back to the cover she sighed and read outloud. "Starella. Written by Pen Gwen. Illustrated by Sunny Shine." Opening the cover she saw the same Orange-red shadow of the woman on the cover next to a larger man's silhouette of the same color. Both were standing in front of a large mansion and pretty landscape. "O-Once upon a time far away in the milky way galaxy, there lived a kind man and his daughter. The man was a very wealthy business man and his daughter was one of the most magnificent people of heart and beauty in the land. With a firey passion and flare like fire, and kindness that shone brighter than the very sun. Because of such bright straits people often referred to her as a star among the people. So she was named, Starella." She turned to the next page and it had the same two orange-red people but this time with two other silhouettes of two women wearing dresses. The taller green person was holding hands with the orange man inside what looked to be a princess's library. "One day Starella's father fell in love with a beautiful widow who had a daughter close to Starella's age. But the woman's beauty hid a cruel heart of greed that would ultimately reveal itself-" Poppy jumped when Hattie suddenly blew a raspberry at the picture and Poppy blinked at her. "Now what was that all about? I thought I was reading this here story pretty well."

Hattie huffed and crossed her arms pouting. "Those pecknecks need to get lost."

"Hey!" Poppy pointed at her. "Watch your language young lady! One more curse outta you and I'm going to stop right here."

Bow scowled and nudged Hattie who groaned. "Fine. I'm sorry."

Poppy nodded. "That's better. Now don't let me here either of ya say that again." She turned back to the book and turned the page. It showed Starella, who she had now come to know as the female orange-red silhouette, staring out the window at a horse drawn carriage leaving the home. "One day her father's rich work came to a point where he had to leave for a year long business trip and left poor Starella in the care of her Stepmother, which is where the trouble began." She flipped the page again and it showed Starella washing dishes and mopping floors as the green stepmother stood in the doorway pointing. "Starella's Stepmother and stepsister were cruel to her. Taking away all her fine clothing and treasures and making her dress and work as a maid in her own home. Despite this she never lost that shiny kindness she was named for." Turning the page she got a whole new bunch of settings. A beautiful green landscape, a good sized town, and a giant castle. "One day the Prince of the land had finally become eligible to be married and his parents wanted nothing more than to know he found the right soul mate for him. So one day one of his fathers asked his son a question."

She turned the page again and paused. On the next page was two silhouettes of two men wearing crowns and sitting in thrones. One man a light blue and the other a dark red. Before them stood a young dark blue silhouette of a young man with his hair in a ponytail standing before them in some grand ball room. Wow. The artist really knew their stuff drawing all these details in didn't they?

" 'My son,' one of the Kings asked their son.," Poppy continued to read. " 'Your father and I are growing more old in age and one day you shall take responsibility over the kingdom and all who live in it. We must know, have you picked who will rule by your side?' The prince sadly hung his head before his two fathers and replied, 'Alas for I have not. For no one has caught my attention and no one has wanted anything more to do with me than my throne. I wish to meet someone I can love as much as they truly love me in return, but no one I have ever met had showed me such a thing.' " Poppy blinked in slight awe and turned the page as she focused more on the story. It had the same scene only the red king had stood up and was now pointing at the dark blue prince. " 'I have a grand idea!', the king yelled for all to hear, 'One that shall solve this problem. We shall invite all the eligible people in the land no matter commoner or noble. From them you can choose who you shall wed!'" Poppy turned the next page and it showed a yellow silhouette man handing out letters to other men and women silhouettes of various colors and shades. "The prince happily agreed. So a message was sent out to every young eligible man and woman no matter commoner or wealthy noble." She turned the next page and she saw the same yellow messenger standing in front of the doorway holding out a letter to the green stepmother.

"Poppy?" She hummed and looked up to Hattie who gave a tiny yawn before asking, "What does eligible mean?"

"Oh. I-I *YAWN* means you're able to be able to do something. L-Like how we're all eligible to sleep." The little girl responded with an 'Oh' and the red head looked back to the book. "One day a letter arrived at Starella's home. Offically inviting Starella and her step sister to the grand ball." She turned with a yawn to the next page which had both the step mother and stepsister's figures glaring down Starella. " The Stepmother and Stepsister were overjoyed. 'This is your chance!,' the Stepmother said to her daughter, 'You are the most beautiful young lady in the land! You must make the prince fall in love with you and you shall become the queen! Then we shall both live the rest of our lives in peace.' Starella politely asked if she could go but the stepmother ignored her in favor of showering her own daughter in praise and telling her what needed to be done for their goal." Poppy yawned again loudly as she turned the next page. Shaking her head and looking at the next page which showed the same scene from before but this time Starella was glaring back instead of her face turned down. "Days passed and the day of the ball came to be. Defying her Stepmother's wishes she stole back one of her fancy dresses and said to her stepmother, "I don't care what you say anymore. I will be going to the ball and my father shall hear of your ways.' With that Starella marched up the stairs to get herself ready for the ball that night. Enraged by Starella's actions the stepmother and stepsister decided to seek revenge."

Poppy again turned the page and it showed the mansion at night time and a carraige being driven away from the house, Starella was looking out one of the windows. Night time....sounded like a great time to get some well deserved sleep. Her tired body ached and she yawned again, those eyes slowly closing ....closer....closer.... She yelped when something made the bed move a bit and looking over found it was Hattie looking tired but pouting.

"C'mon. What happened next?"

"Huh...OH! RIGHT!!" Blue tired eyes looked back to the page. "Without Starella knowing the carriage to take them to the ball arrived. As quickly and quietly as mice, the two slipped away and made off into the night. By the time Starella noticed, it was too late." She turned the page and it showed Starella in a flowing dress on the kitchen floor in a crying pose. "Distraught. Starella sat by the kitchen fire to warm herself and weep her sorrows away. 'Do not be said', cried a woman's voice." Turning another page, it showed Starella gazing up at the kitchen window where a white duck was perched. "Startled, Starella turned her face up towards the sound of the voice and saw a tiny duck perched in her window. 'Who are you?," Starella asked. 'I am the great Mother Goose.,' the duck replied, 'Do not weep. Dry those tears. You saved me when those two wicked women wanted to fry me for dinner, and now I shall repay your kindness in full. Bring me one chess knight that's snow white, a nutcracker,  and one apple from the pantry. Now hurry. We haven't got much time.'" She turned the next page and it showed Starella holding a bright red apple and the white horse piece from a chess board game outside. " She....*YYYYAAAAWWWNNN* quickly did as the duck asked and brought what she needed. 'Lay them upon the ground and stand aside,' the duck said. Starella quickly did as she was told as the duck waved her wing over the items. "

"Poppy?"

"Yes?"

"*yawn* W-What's a chess knight?"

"It's the little pieces of the game chess that look like ponies," she replied before turning another page tiredly and there was a pretty sight. A beautiful red carriage with the door held open by a handsome man in a suit, and the most beautiful white horse at the front. "Before her very eyes the items turned into a magnificent couch with a horse and driver to navigate it. As Starella climbed into the couch, Mother Goose perched upon the door to give one final warning. 'I hope you find the happiness you seek, but remember this,' she warned, 'You must leave by Midnight for that is when my magic will fade away and you shall be stranded.' Starella promised the Mother Goose she'd remember the warning and bid the goose good bye as it flew into the sky, and the couch slowly made it way towards the castle." Turning to the next page it showed the castle and the steps leading up to the grand entrance and sitting on the stairs gracefully was the dark blue prince. "Unknownst to her the prince was awaiting within the entrance to the grand castle, tired from the large gathering of crowded people inside and not having the desire to having others and so many seeking him out at once. But suddenly he saw the most unusual sight." Turning the page again, it showed the red apple couch pull up to the castle steps. "The most radiant of red couches he had ever seen appeared pulled by the most purest of white horses. Surely this must've been someone important. As Starella emerged from the couch, the prince was entranced by her beauty as she stepped towards him." Another page turn, reveling the two figures looking at each other on the stairs. "Taken by her stunning beauty, the prince stood to greet the fair maiden and welcome her to the castle. Moved by the handsome strangest politeness she asked what he was doing out here all alone, and he replied, 'It is because it became too crowded for my liking. I wished to come out here and take a break and talk to someone. But you look new around to the castle. My I offer to show you around the castle?' Starella agreed and took the arm the man offered her. Leading her into the castle above."

Poppy took a moment after turning the next page to turn to look over at the Girls. Hattie was snoring away flopped back against the pillow. But Bow was still wide awake, smiling at her and pointing to the book. Where it showed the duo standing in the middle of a very crowded room filled with other colorful silhouettes.

"Next page please."

Poppy smiled and figured she might as well finish the book for the one who was still awake. "Well...Starella and the prince spent the entire ball together sharing each other's interests and experiences, getting along so very lovely enraptured by each others' personalities. As time went on Starella forgot all about Mother Goose's warnings as they talked, laughed, and danced the night away. But that all changed in a blink of an eye." The next page beheld Starella running away from the prince who had his arm outstretched out for her and a giant clock tower shone from behind them with the face reading midnight. "The clock struck midnight and everything the Mother Goose had ever said came rushing back to her. In an instant full of dread, Starella fled from the Prince and to the exit but it was too late. The couch had transformed back into an apple. The horse to a chess knight. And the handsome couchman back into the nutcracker. Having no other choice, Starella fled down the road into the night back towards her home." New page, new scene of the prince in the middle of the crowd with everyone looking at him. "Determined the prince announced that same night that he would love nothing more than to again meet this mystery lady and he was determined to meet her again." Another page showing the stepmother and stepdaughter home glaring at Starella again. "Because the castle was so crowded Starella's Stepmother and Stepsister had not seen her at all, and so paid no attention to her upon arriving home. Only caring about the Prince's proclaim." New page showed the prince riding through town on a beautiful white horse through town. "For days the prince searched far and white for the maiden with bright kindness and hair that shown brighter than any star. No one could tell him who this mysterious maiden was and he was beginning to lose hope when he finally reached the home of Starella and her step family. Where he finally found what he seeked." Turning the page it showed the prince kneeling, face pointed towards the floor, and holding her hand the green figures of the stepfamily behind them. " 'At last I have found you,' he said with glee, 'Starella, I have searched far and wide because before no one had ever showed me the kindess you have. With your p-permission..*YAAAAWWN* I-I would love nothing more than to learn more about you.' "

Poppy didn't notice but Bow had already long since laid down to sleep as well, but she kept going reading the story to it's end as her own body was slowly falling into the same spell of sleep they had by the Sandman. The next page showed Starella's father pointing outside standing in the doorway pointing as the Stepmother and Stepdaughter fled.

"Starella happily agreed and her father returned. Upon hearing what her Stepmother and Stepsister had done while he was away, he banished them from his home never to return again." She turned to the last page where it showed a very elaborate wedding and the Prince and Starella being the ones to be wed. "After a few years of letting their love and fondness for each other grow, Starella and the prince were finally married. The End."

The book was slowly closed by the red head along with her eyes and with another loud yawn, sleep had finally claimed the last lady there. All three sleeping peacefully until the morning had come.

[sunlitangles]

Prose and Cons

I had the pleasure of also writing a fic for the @grishaversebigbang! Please go check out the other wonderful fics written by my fellow Etherealki. 💙

Thank you to my Corporalki @jdobrski and my sensitivity readers @niecity, @nekonamicosplay, and @wybiegowritey

And my talented Materialki (please check their pieces out and show them some love):

@ninaaswaffles x

@artzy-lia-art x

@dingy-doodles​  x

@protec-kuwei-yul-bo x

Summary: When his father kicks him out of America in disgrace, Wylan leaves for London looking for opportunity. He loves telling stories and sharing knowledge, so when the publishing company Crows Publishing accepts his application as a writer, he is overjoyed. There’s only one problem- Wylan can’t physically write. The solution to this stumbles into his life as Jesper Fahey, the anonymous author of popular war-time novels and coworker. They quickly enter a co-writer relationship, but maybe Wylan wants it to be more. The pair starts to get closer, but it isn’t long before Wylan gets caught up in the secret goings of the Crows Publishing company.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26316439/chapters/64080943

Keep reading after the cut for chapter one! 

“Mister Van Eck, I simply must inform you that you are not qualified for this job,” said the man. Wylan sighed and glared at the stout man sitting before him. “Mr. Rollins, I really need this job. I don’t have anywhere to go, and I-” Wylan started but was quickly cut off. “Van Eck, I couldn’t give a damn. Now, please see yourself out of my office,” Mr. Rollins said, spit flying out of his mouth. He didn’t give Wylan another look, proceeding to make a ‘shooing’ gesture and turned back to his records. Wylan grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve.

Wylan stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his tweed blazer. He grabbed the strap of his leather bag as Mr. Rollins lit a cigar. The beady gaze of the older man followed Wylan out of the office, and as Wylan stepped outside into the cool autumn breeze, the noisy bustle of London streets overwhelmed him. Wylan resisted the urge to plug his ears, which were not accustomed to the din. The countryside was never this loud. He missed the scent of the rolling fields, the clean autumn breezes, and the subtle hints of life on the farms nearby. He sighed disdainfully and stepped into the chaotic streets of London.

The intricately built buildings arched high above Wylan, seemingly watching his every move. What am I supposed to do now? His bag thumped against his side as he strolled the uneven cobblestone, dodging other pedestrians in long coats and large skirts. He was alone in this damn city with no steady source of income. If only my dad could see me now, Wylan thought, a frown tugging the corners of his mouth. He walked down Fleet Street, a sour expression stuck on his pale face. He strolled past the brightly lit shops of 36th street, the warm smells of the bakery wafting towards him. He stopped in front of the shop, observing the buttery pastries and golden rolls in the shop window. The soft light emanating from the bakery illuminated workers bustling around inside, putting more dough in the oven and piping thick jam on top of fluffy cakes. His mouth watered at the sight of flakey scones and he longed to taste at least one warm confectionery but tore himself away from the shop, turning back to the crowded streets. He certainly didn’t have the money for those types of luxuries yet.

He continued down the street, avoiding the large skirt of a beautiful fair-skinned brunette who strutted as if she owned the town. Her red dress flaunted her generous, soft body. She was fairly plump, and Wylan could tell her corset was laced far larger than customary. He stared as she bounced down the street, entering the bakery with a wide grin on her face. The other patrons stared after her, their expressions a mix of disgust and confusion. Wylan grinned to himself.

Loose pebbles skittered down the path as Wylan continued to make his way down to the run-down hotel that he called home for the time being. He’d managed to make enough money doing odd jobs between university classes to keep himself out of the streets, but if Wylan didn’t find steady work soon, he’d surely be down on his luck. He hurried down the cobblestone streets until he reached the hotel. The front needed a new paint job and windows were in a serious need of cleaning, but the rooms were in good enough condition. He stepped inside the lobby, which was empty save for a Suli family who waited on the moth-eaten couch and a tall, well-dressed man speaking quietly with the concierge. Trudging up the stairs, Wylan searched for his room number, turning right and then forward. He slid his key into the lock, taking off his jacket as he stepped into his hotel room.

He examined his belongings, anxiously making sure nothing was missing. Earlier in the week, he had experienced a run-in with a maid who had taken a liking to rifle through his belongings, looking through his music notebooks and pockets for spare change. He sighed in relief as he realized none of his belongings were swiped. Wylan could hear horses trotting along the street below him, barkers shouting at passerby and the mumble of conversations over watered-down tea and lumpy rice pudding. He still couldn’t believe he was in London. It felt a lot bigger, even though it was barely big enough to fit a fraction of America. He sat down at the tiny desk in the corner of the room, lit by the setting sun. Sunlight streamed through the dusty window, illuminating his fiery copper-red hair. Setting his head in his hands, he rubbed his temples, willing the stress of the day to disappear.

He had no idea how he was going to sustain himself for much longer. The funds that his dad had sent him off with were running low, and it would only be a few more weeks until he would be kicked to the streets with only the clothes off his back and a university scholarship, forced to feed himself and fend off the rats and pests that lurked in the dark alleys. According to his calculations, he would be able to afford his room for three weeks if he cut back on his food budget and skipped meals. He groaned as he pushed himself out of the creaky wood chair, the moth-eaten upholstered cushion leaving dust on his nice black pants. Brushing himself off, he collected his school work from his leather bag. Thick leather-bound books and spare pieces of paper stared up at mockingly, the neat font gleaming under the setting sun. Rubbing his eyes, Wylan attempted to make out the words written on the crisp pieces of parchment but gave up after a few tedious moments.

Mind still preoccupied, Wylan grabbed his flute. The cool metal was familiar to his smooth hands, the brass instantly calming his nerves. Grabbing a few sets of sheet music that he had already memorized, he brought his flute to his mouth and began to play.

As the stars twinkled in the midnight blue sky outside his window, Wylan fought to ignore the rumble of his stomach. He had played for hours, taking breaks to try to read the work he was assigned but he quickly gave up; the frustration consumed him as simple words mocked him. He craved a flakey pastry from the bakery he’d passed earlier, but the almost non-existent weight of the money in his pocket reminded him that indulging in such luxuries would not suit him well. He fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, wondering if he could afford to buy potatoes at the grocer. Deciding to go food shopping tomorrow, Wylan got himself ready for bed, humming under his breath as the crows chirped in the distance.

*** The streets of London were never quiet at night, Wylan had soon realized after his first night at the hotel. The drunken steps of men stumbling out of bars and their loud, slurred voices filled the streets night after night near the gambling halls and pubs while the sound of horses trotting through the cobblestone alleys mixed with quiet sighs of private theatricals. Tonight, Wylan caught wind of a few conversations, most of them noisy neighbors complaining about the prices of tea and whatever was in the paper that morning. Curling up on the window sill, he felt the cool London air blow into his room.

“Brekker said he would be here by now,” mumbled a gruff voice. The voice was coming from a stocky man, leaning against a building with a few companions by his side. The man to his right drawled in a kaelish accent, “Damn that kid. I can’t stand him.” “Did you hear what happened to Thomas today?” a blond man asked, rolling his neck. Fiddling with the pistols at his hips, a Zemini man replied, “Did Brekker con him?” The blond man nodded and replied, “Got ‘em good, too. I heard he got all of Thomas’ inheritance. Didn’t even see it coming.” The group of men continued to converse, loudly complaining about “Brekker”.

Wylan tuned out the rest of the conversation, opting to watch the early morning carriages drive across the roads. He watched rats scour the streets below, rotten apple cores littering the darkest corners of the alleyway. A young couple took a stroll along the other side of the street, speaking to each other in earnest. Wylan wondered what that was like. To have someone to tell everything to. Try as he might, Wylan’s father never could seem to get Wylan interested in the town girls. He just didn’t fancy any old girl, right? That had to have been the explanation for his blunt taste in women. They were just so peculiar. He often felt as if he never really liked any of them.

“Damn Brekker, can’t seem to keep his nose outta people’s business,” complained the man with the kaelish accent, snapping Wylan out of his daydreaming, “Do you reckon The Dregs will write something about Thomas?” Wylan knew that The Dregs was a popular newspaper in London, published by Crows Publishing. The Zemini man snorted and replied, “It’s a newspaper and publishing company.” “So? They can’t possibly know everything.” “You would be surprised, and I don’t read their shit. You’re the one reading penny bloods from Crows Publishing.”

Wylan knew about the penny bloods that were taking the country up by a storm. His neighbors often gossiped about them with their friends and family, and his classmates read them at school. They formed clubs where they would read them aloud and catch up on the latest episode. Wylan joined a few of those clubs, enjoying the way the writing sounded and taking note of the masterful ways they were written. The most popular penny bloods were written by a man named Kit Young starring a plot of war- novels and by the sounds of it, they were almost the most popular penny bloods in London, second only to a series of detective penny bloods published by the Dime Lions publishing company. Wylan heard that they told tales of crime and detection in America, but he didn’t find the descriptions as intriguing as the bloods written by Kit Young. Wylan participated in one of the clubs for Mr. Young’s stories and he latched on to every one of his words, but he had to stop going to the clubs as he needed to find work more than participate in leisure. He laughed bitterly as he thought about the war bloods and continued to ponder the on-goings of Crows Publishing.

Wylan had dared to hope that he could potentially be hired at the publishing company. He imagined conversing with his coworkers, and hopefully friends, about the latest stories and articles looking to be published. He imagined laughter spilling out of him and his coworkers and them sharing a mutual love for stories, him hopefully writing successful penny bloods that took the country by a storm. He wondered what he would do if he met Kit Young, and how he would praise the man for writing the stories that kept almost all of London intrigued. He let his imagination roam free until the sun rose over the gray city.

***

Though he was drowsy from his lack of sleep, Wylan tried to pay attention to the lesson his English professor was droning on about. He had yet to read the book assigned and he tried to understand what Professor Williams was saying about the metaphors in the book, but the encounter he witnessed from last night had been playing on repeat. The name “Crows Publishing” stuck out to him and kept nagging in the back of his mind. Wylan got chills down his spine each time he thought about how “Brekker” worked the gang and how disturbingly good he was at getting what he wanted. Doodling on the piece of paper in front of him, Wylan continued to ponder the mystery of Crows Publishing. Professor Williams announced that he would be calling on students, effectively breaking Wylan out of his stupor. Wylan silently prayed that he wouldn’t be called on as his professor scanned the room for participants. Though of course, Professor Williams decided it would be the perfect time to call on him.

Locking eyes with Wylan, his professor said, “Mr. Van Eck, what did you think about the relationship between Victor and his monster?” Wylan gulped nervously, the room feeling awfully hot and stuffy. “I found their relationship, uh, quite intriguing.” Professor Williams raised his eyebrow in expectation, “Anything else, Mr. Van Eck?” “Uh, I thought that Victor treated the monster unfairly and that maybe the author was commenting on the times,” Wylan said, balling his hands into fists. He thanked the lord that Mary Shelley’s work was popular enough for him to have known the plot. His breathing began to get shallow, and he focused on simply breathing in and out to avoid getting too worked up.

Professor Williams sighed, nodded, and called on another student. Wylan felt the eyes of his classmates burning holes into the back of his head. Wylan shifted uncomfortably, digging his fingernails into his sweaty palms. He focused intently on the paper in front of him, fighting the blush creeping up his neck and heating his ears. He silently wished for the floor to open up and devour him; anything would be better than sitting here embarrassed.

As the class ended and students were packing up their belongings, Wylan felt a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him from exiting the classroom. “Van Eck. Hold on,” said Professor Williams. A few moments after all the students had sifted through the door, he leaned against his oak desk, crossing his ankles and watching Wylan intently. Wylan gulped and settled his hands on the strap of his leather bag. “You wanted to see me, Professor?” Wylan said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. “In fact, yes, Mr. Van Eck. Your performance in my class has been… less than satisfactory. I am quite aware of your, ahem,” Professor Williams cleared his throat, “difficulties with reading and writing, and I would like to help you.” Wylan looked towards the ground, “I’m sorry, Professor.” “I have a tutor willing to help you. I hope you accept this offer, as I truly think it would help you.” Wylan nodded, “I accept. Thanks.” Professor Williams smiled slightly. “Let me know when you’re available and I will let your tutor know. Don’t worry about the finances, I have it handled.” Wylan walked out the classroom, cheeks hot. His professor was paying for his tutoring sessions, and Wylan couldn’t help feeling useless. He wanted to think that the tutor could help him, but he was too overwhelmed by the fact that another human being had to know about his inability to read and write. Wylan silently decided to somehow find a way to pay his professor back; his search for a job becoming his top priority.

***

Professor Williams had found Wylan a tutor, all right. He was a 19-year-old boy with hints of patchy peach fuzz along his upper lip. His blonde hair was gelled back and he wrote a purple bowtie, rather than the standard university’s blue. Wylan sat down at the library table his tutor, Joost, had found. Joost pulled out an intimidating stack of books and Wylan eyed the stack nervously. “I think we should start with the book Professor Williams assigned to us. Do you have a copy?” Joost asked with a pretentious air in his voice. Wylan smiled, narrowing his eyes. He already disliked Joost.

“I do. It’s required, you know,” he said, the fake smile slathered on his face. If his jab affected Joost in any way, he didn’t show it. Joost eyed Wylan up and down, waiting for him to pull out his book. Wylan gritted his teeth and grabbed it out of his bag. Joost smiled and opened his heavily- dog eared copy. “Let’s start with chapter one. Do you know what happens?” Wylan bit his tongue to stop himself from lashing out at the blonde boy. “I don’t remember.” Joost cleared his throat arrogantly. “Then open your book to chapter one.” Wylan groaned internally as he began his slow descent into hell. He tried to read the words printed on the smooth sheets of paper, attempting to keep up with Joost’s monotone droning. After ‘reading’ the first chapter, Joost looked at Wylan expectantly. “Now, can you finally tell me what happens in this chapter?” Joost looked at Wylan intently, and Wylan dropped his head into his hands, pulling on the strands of his hair. This was clearly not going to work.

*** No matter how well-intending Joost was, he was not the tutor for Wylan. Wylan endured two grueling weeks of his pretentious personality and he couldn’t stand how Joost treated him like the scum under his shoe. Wylan sagged in his seat, pretending to read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as Professor Williams directed them to a certain part of the book. He glanced at the pages, scanning the words printed on the cream pages. As the rest of the class went on, Wylan avoided eye-contact with Professor Williams and Joost. He couldn’t stand the way Joost kept glancing at him. Wylan silently hoped that the class would be dismissed quickly.

Professor Williams held Wylan back at the end of class, grabbing his shoulder as he tried walking out of the door. “I take that tutoring with Mr. Van Poel didn’t go well,” his professor said after the students cleared out of the room. Wylan internally rolled his eyes, heat crawling up the back of his neck, “Joost was… fine.” Professor Williams pursed his lips. “I’ll find you another tutor, Wylan.” Wylan nodded, embarrassed of his additional request, and quickly thanked him and sprinted out of the room. As he rushed down the hallway, he felt his spirits deflate. Wylan couldn’t believe he’d already needed a new tutor. He already felt bad enough that his professor was paying for it, and now he’d complained about his old one? In times like these, he thought that maybe it was a good thing he could no longer disgrace the family name.

***

The library he’d agreed to meet up at was on campus, and it stretched a sizable distance. It had a big, arching front doorway and, once inside, beautiful oak shelves lining up the tall ceilings all the way to the back. Wylan held down a shaky breath thinking about the words lining those pages, words that he couldn’t read. It was almost suffocating. There were about fifteen people spread around the library’s common area, including a plump, whiskery little man sitting at the front desk. Wylan shuffled his way over. “Hi, sorry, I’m looking for a- um,” he glanced at the slip with the address and his tutor’s name, a name that he already memorized but he looked at the slip nonetheless, “Jesper Fahey?” “Always great to meet a fan,” called a rich, deep voice behind Wylan. He spun on his heel, coming face to face with a tall man with a rich-umber complexion. The confident expression on his handsome face made Wylan’s heartbeat quicken. “Hi, I’m uh- Wylan Eck Van. Uh- sorry, Wylan Van Eck. I’m assuming you’re Jesper Fahey?” Wylan said, stumbling over his words. “That’s my name,” the stranger said, raising his eyebrows in amusement, “And nice to meet you, Wylan.” Wylan reached his hand out for a handshake, but Jesper started down the hallway, looking for a table to sit at. The whiskery man stared at Jesper and went back to reading, smoking his cigarette when Wylan turned back to him. “Uh- wait up!” Wylan called, dashing to catch up with Jesper. Finding an unoccupied desk in the middle of the library, Jesper sat down, pulling out various books from his worn messenger bag. Wylan sat down, mimicking Jesper’s actions. “So…” Wylan started, glancing around the musty library, “What subject should we start with today?” Jesper looked up from his bag, pulling a textbook out. “I was thinking we could do English. Professor Williams told me you were struggling with the reading assignment?” Jesper confirmed, and Wylan glanced down at his hands, heat flushing his cheeks. Clearing his throat, Wylan replied, “Yeah. Something like that.” Jesper gave him a wide smile and said, “It’s fine, Mr. Van Eck. So, how far are you into the book?” “I haven’t- um, I haven’t started it,” Wylan clenched his fists tight, “I can’t read… it. I can’t read.” Jesper’s playful smile dropped just enough for Wylan to feel embarrassment flood over him. “Oh,” Jesper simply said, scrunching his eyebrows, “Well, we can either read it together or I could give you a brief summary. Williams said that we should be at chapter four by now so I highly recommend the summary.” Jesper winked. Wylan took a deep breath and felt the tension leave his body. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

[thewritewolf]

Adrien Agreste and the Long Delayed Proposal Chapter 3

The first day of wedding planning with the gang.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Final Chapter (9)

Read on Ao3

“So,” Alya said, pushing her glasses up. “Obviously we’ve already got our maid of honor and best man chosen.”

Nino nudged Adrien’s shoulder and Marinette smiled, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

“Let me guess - Ivan as the best man and Rose for the maid of honor?”

Alya leveled an unimpressed look at Adrien even as Nino snorted and Marinette giggled.

“Hilarious, blondie. No, obviously it’s gonna be you two. Which means you’re officially helping us plan all this garbage.”

“Hey now,” Nino cut in, “that's not garbage, that’s our wedding.”

“No, right now it is an unholy headache that will one day be our wedding. Our big goal here is to get from frustration to bliss as fast as possible.” Alya thumbed through the stack of folders and papers she’d brought with her when she came into their apartment. “Where to start, where to start… hm…”

Marinette picked up the folder in front of her. “How about the engagement party?”

“That is the thing that’s going to be coming up first,” Adrien said in support of his girlfriend. His heart fluttered when she glanced his way and smiled. “We, uh, we’ll need to figure out who is getting invited, where to have it, when, that sort of thing.”

“Mom really wanted to host it.” Nino looked at Alya. “If that’s alright with you, babe?”

“As long as you’re alright with my mom doing the cooking.”

“Obvs!” Nino chuckled. “I dunno what Marlena is gonna whip up, but I already know I’ll love it.”

“If you want, I can talk to maman and papa to get some desserts for it,” Adrien said as he tapped his chin. “I’m pretty sure they’d be willing to give you a discount.”

“Probably an even bigger one if we helped out with the baking.” Marinette got a distant, calculating look in her eye. “Unless the floral shop gets swamped. Hm...”

“A weekend baking with you?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll make the time if I have to.”

“You guys realize we’re the ones getting married, right?” Alya said with a smirk. “Now me and Nino will have to be twice as sickeningly sweet to compensate.”

“Geez, imagine if they were actually engaged right now too.” Nino shook his head. “They’d be totally unbearable!”

Marinette and Adrien laughed, but for Adrien it was a little manic. His proposal was still sitting in his chest, straining to break out at any moment. He cleared his throat.

“So that’s location and food. What about the people?”

“Looks like they’ve already handled it,” Marinette said as she read through the folder she’d picked up. “I’ll see if I can think of anyone else though.”

“As for when my dude, we definitely wanna do it before next month is out.”

“That’s pretty soon.” Marinette’s voice became distant as she split her attention between reading and paying attention.

“Yeah, but its gonna be a little shindig, so it won’t take long to get prepared.” Nino leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “We have to get that hype train outta the station as soon as possible, you know?”

“By the way,” Alya said, putting down the stack she’d been holding. “How’s business with the shop? Think you’ll be able to hook us up with some nice arrangements?”

“Doing a lot better than I was expecting, to be honest. The folks I hired are all great workers.” Adrien pushed his hair back and let out a long breath as he did some quick math in his head. “Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem. They might not be the best things ever but-”

Nino shook his head. “Dude, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve picked up Marinette’s green thumb plus you’ve got a good eye for arrangement. You’ll do great, bro.”

Adrien gave a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

“No worries, my dude.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose you have a friend’s discount too…?”

With a chuckle, Adrien replied, “No, but I do have a best friend’s discount.”

As the night wore on, the four of them slowly started to turn the scattered papers and half baked ideas into something much more substantial. The reality of the event started to take shape. At the same time, it began to weigh heavier and heavier in Adrien’s mind.

His friends were getting married. He couldn’t be happier for them and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that their special day was going to be the best that he possibly could make it.

But as he saw how excited Alya and Nino were, he stole more and more glances at Marinette. The urge to just blurt out a proposal raised its head every time their hands brushed.

Adrien swallowed heavily three hours into the planning. It was going to be a long engagement.

[lemoncakepanda]

Top 50 NaLu Anime Moments {Pt 2}.

Read pt 1 here.

Without any further delay, let’s get back to my top 50 anime nalu moments, and today we cover moments 40 up till 31! This part of the list is probably the most fluffy one, as it’s about to get kinda angsty from the next part on, but hey, let us enjoy our small moment of happiness.

40. Lucy's naked bell roll with Natsu. (Ep 194).

And we starting off kinda kinky, but hey, it’s a form of love, lol. Anyways, I truly love this moment because it was one of the first where you could start seeing that Natsu was actually attracted to Lucy. The anime didn’t include it (idk why) but in the manga he gets all blushy after having his face and hands rubbed in every single inch of naked Lucy, and I loved seeing how he reacted to it. And the first official boob grope (!!!) that results in Natsu getting slapped, which he deserved, lol. While not the only one, this is probably the most fanservice NaLu moment you’re gonna get on this list, so don’t worry, I didn’t include all the boob/@ss gropping scenes, I just really love this one especially.

39. “If any of you bastards hurt Lucy, I will turn all of you to dust.” (Ep 83).

Okay, but listen! As... as an honorary Natsu fan, I love when he gets all serious and goes all out on his enemies, and this scene, esp for someone who was slowly losing hope on this ship, really fired me up! It’s moments like this one where you can see how Natsu really cares for Lucy, at the point of injuring himself in the process. And the line, I love that line so much! I often use it in gifsets I make because I adore how protective he is of Lucy, even now that she’s able to fully defend herself, he still... wow. At last, I like this scene because it showcases how close they are and how much Lucy means to Natsu; ofc he’d be upset if any of his other friends got hurt, but y’all know he’s especially protective of Lucy and has been for a while, even back when the ship was only platonic, and there is a reason for it.

38. “Someone give us hope.” (Ep 119).

As I’ve commented on this moment before, I don’t have anything much different to add this time, only that it gets to my heart how much trust these two have in each other, and how much they inspire each other. I chose this moment because it’s one of the most obvious to how Natsu and Lucy’s relationship works: they give each other strength. When one is feeling down or hopeless, the other will step up and stand by their side. It’s a beautiful cycle between them. Zeref commented once that Lucy was a cheerful person, who had a huge impact on Natsu’s growth, and he ain’t wrong about that. This moment is proof of it.

37. “Let’s reform our team.” (Ep 109).

Or in Kain’s words, Natsu and Lucy getting all “flirty and hot”. God, I love Tenrou Island arc. Not only it’s what turned me into a hardcore nalu shipper, but it’s also great storytelling, and very compelling fights. The choice to combine Natsu and Happy with Lucy vs Kain and Ultear was a great one, considering they’d been kinda distant from each other since Edolas and had not really interacted much, and even during arcs like Oracion Seis and Edolas, which had been successors of the Fantasia and Tower of Heaven arcs, which barely had any Nalu in it, it felt like a breath of fresh air to see them together again and staying together, like the team they’d been since the beginning. It also showed how in sync they are with each other and how well they work together. Truly one of the things that made Tenrou Island such a great arc.

36. “Lucy, come home already.” (OVA 4).

Words cannot describe how much I cherish this omake, or in this case, the ova, where Lucy follows Natsu to find out where he and Happy live. For those of you who have not watched it, it’s set in a flashback where Lucy tells the girls about the day she followed her two lousy friends to get revenge on them for always breaking in her house; she successfully finds their house, and there she finds out Natsu keeps memories of all the jobs he’d gone to, two of which include the first job he and Lucy ever went in together and her old maid outfit, which brings a sweet smile to her face. Despite finding their house, Lucy’s plan to surprise them fails because they never show up, so she goes back to her apartment. And, surprise surprise, that’s where Natsu and Happy had been all this time. And we’re left with the heartwarming conclusion that, although they annoy the fck outta her, eat all her food, mess up her stuff, and hog her bed all to themselves, Lucy loves having them around. They turn her house into a home, they give her someone to come home to, they give her all the company she never had when she was a child. ‘Twas a very nice conclusion to the story, and served as a nice confirmation to something we’d always suspected.

35. Watch Out for the Guy You Like! (Ep 50).

This, in my opinion, is one of the most hilarious FT episodes; even though it results with Lucy finding out all her delusions of Natsu were, well, just delusions, and Natsu just wanted her help to dig a hole, I have so much fun watching those delusions, watching Lucy stop for a moment to actually consider being with Natsu; I think it’s what opened the door to her crush, even if she completely closed her eyes and tried to ignore it. Also, shoujo-like Natsu was a blessing given to us by Mashima which I’m forever grateful for, lmao. But really, I think this omake/episode is actually very important to Natsu and Lucy’s relationship; it showed that all her delusions depicted Lucy’s idea of how a romance should be, and then (spoiler) in the end, she kind of gets that romance, but not in the way she imagined, and it turned out to be exactly the way it needed to be. So, for that, I really like this and find it essential to the ship.

34. Their reunion. (Ep 276).

This moment, originally, was not part of my top 25 Nalu manga moments, and that’s because, while I do love it in the manga, I love it so much more in the anime. It felt more dramatic, with the camera shifting from Natsu and Lucy finally locking eyes after one year apart, and they’re both so goddamn shook! I like that they added this detail in the anime, because you could really feel like it was two people who used to always be together, and then spent 365 days without seeing each other, being only there ever in thought. I also like how they’re both blushing, that little showcase of how happy they are to see the other again, and the small tingle of bittersweetness because we know it’s not 100% okay between them. You know drama’s gonna follow because actions have consequences. But for that one moment, you’re just as happy as Natsu and Lucy to see them reunited once more, the way it’s supposed to be.

33. Lucy makes her choice. (Ep 49).

While I feel that this one goes without saying, the reason I chose it can be explained in two sentences: 1) Lucy has met a guy who’s like the male version of her, is kind, a gentleman, and has a nice vibe with her, but she puts all of that potential aside for the one thing she is sure of, and that’s her partnership with Natsu. 2) Have you seen Natsu’s face when she shows up in that train, ready to leave with them? He’s so shook, he blinks like three times, as if trying to make sure she is really there, that she’s real. And then he just opens the biggest smile, because she chose to be there with them; it’s the first time they’re not dragging her to a job, she simply chose to come along, and you can almost hear the sound of Natsu’s heart going all fluttery when he realizes she cast her ‘date’ aside to go with them. Another moment that, I feel, helped deepen and shape the relationship these two have today.

32. “Make me purr!” Drunk Lucy round 2. (OVA 9).

Again, nothing really different to add on this moment, only that I like how the ova extended and showed Lucy jumping on Natsu in the most s&xual way ever, and how Natsu has all the strength in the world to remove her from him, but “supposedly” is unable to do that when she’s all over him touching him in a very intimate way. Aham. I see right through you, dragon boy. Also, isn’t it interesting that Drunk!Lucy directs all her attention to Natsu if he’s around? Nvm that there’s other guys around, all she cares about is him. I love that. It says a lot about Lucy’s hidden feelings.

31. Reaching out for each other before being separated. (Ep 247).

Tartaros is my favorite FT arc, despite not having that much Nalu in it, it’s probably the arc with most emotional weight, because of everything the characters went through and makes you really feel for them. And although I love the ships, I love the story 1st and Tartaros was indeed amazing story-telling. With that said, I also enjoyed very much the little/subtle/few Nalu moments the arc provided, and one of them is the scene where Natsu and Lucy are being pulled in by the Alegria, and they reach for each other. It’s commonly said that when things get tough, you focus on what’s important to you, and it was very sweet/heartbreaking to watch Lucy and Natsu struggling to get to each other, as they were both unaware of what was going to happen, they were just trying to stay together. You can easily say it’s only because they were alone together, but hello, Mashima did not need to make it like this. It was his choice to make Natsu and Lucy reach out for each other in a way that’s mostly seen between couples, esp in shõnen, and the anime made it even more beautiful.

Part 3 will come up tomorrow!

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Coffee Caramel Flan (JayTim Fic for Fictober)

Prompt number: 25 .“I could really eat something.”

Fandom : DCU/Batman. No powers AU

Rating: General Audience

Warnings/Tags: None/ Angst, Fluff,

Summary : Tim is sick and became an even pickier eater. Jason is determined to make Tim eat. But, of course, things aren't as simple as that.

Word count : 4k

Click link to read on AO3

Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

+++++++ 

“Can’t you just eat a spoonful?”

“How about no.”

“Oh c’mon. I’m literally running out of food recipes.”

“I can’t today.”

“What is it? Too bland? Too salty?”

“Just drop it, Jason,” Tim finally snapped, his eyes look apologetic before he looks away.

The room fell quiet, though it never really is. The news has been playing all night long from their upstairs neighbor, and a recording of 60’s retro music quietly hums from the room next door. The fan on top of them whines as they blow a barely-there wind, signs of old age. Their apartment is as tidy as a dead beat one can. Random stuff for the coming garage sale are tidily packed but taking the corners to resides. It’s not much, but it’s home sweet home.

Days like these are often for Jason. Especially when Tim is sick, he’s a picky eater, just like now.

“What about some flan with coffee caramel, you liked those,” Jason attempt to coax Tim to eat one last time. When the small frame finally turns towards him, Jason felt like a medal of honor is blessed upon him.

“I thought the dishes are a bitch, so you only make those once a month,” Tim whispered sheepishly, hiding half of his face under the thin wool blanket.

The skin above Tim’s bony his joints is blooming red, as well as his sickly nose and teary eyes. Tim has never been this sick before, but then again, there are times where Jason had thought so too and Tim always healed. There’s no need to worry, Jason said to himself over and over again. He can take care of Tim, he’s the only one who can.

“I’m desperate,” Jason says to the empty air. Blinking his haze away, he looks back to Tim who knits his eyebrows together, “At this point, I’m ready to make anything as long as you eat and get well soon.”

The little 18-year-old melts, and whenever Jason sees Tim that way, he fell in love all over again.

“I love you, Jason,” Tim says as he sits up and lands a kiss on Jason’s cheek, not wanting to pass the cold.

Jason frames the heart-shaped face in his calloused hands. Tim’s pretty face graced with that pretty smile, it’s almost sinful how Jason is allowed to touch him.

Never a day passed by that Jason doesn’t feel blessed that Tim’s here, that Tim chooses to stay with him.

“I love you too, Timmy.”

 ++++

 “How’s your runaway?”

“Tim’s not running from home. His parents knew exactly where he is and my address, and never bother to pick him up,” Jason put a cigarette between his lips and open his hand to his nosy friend to give his lighter back.

After lighting up his own, Roy hands it. “Gotta admit, I didn’t expect Tim to last long staying in your place for...” Roy drags in, and huffs a white puff of some to the warm sunset sky how long has it been?”

“... Six months,” Jason said after puffing the lit cigarette and takes a long drag from the filter.

“Dang, he can live without his golden toilet?”

Jason smacked the back of his redhead, “Shut up, he’s tougher than you think.”

As he smacked Roy’s head, his image seems to blur. He thought it’s the smoke, but it seems to disappear, or maybe the sun, but it’s cloudy right now. Whatever caused it, when focus came back, Roy has a different demeanor.

“Sure, your Tim is.”

“The fuck is that suppose to mean?”

Roy smirks and pushes the wall with his back, “You know what I meant, coo-coo brain. I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re better.” The redhead disappears around the corner leafing ribbons of white from the burning cig.

Jason doesn’t let what Roy said get to him. Cigarettes help. After the third one is finished, he goes back to kitchen duty.

 +++++

 “Tim? I’m home!” Jason declared as he locks the door behind him. When he steps in, the room is empty.

Tim is not in the kitchen or lounging on the sofa, not even in his bed where he’s supposed to be resting, and there’s no voice in the shower.

Before he starts to panic, his eyes catch a piece of paper by the nightstand.

‘Starting to miss my phone. I’ll be back in a flash. And don’t worry! I feel better :)’

Relief wash over him and the tension on his shoulder melts away. Some of it at least. He can’t believe how much Tim’s presence influenced him in these past few months. The sun is still out and he doesn’t know when Tim left and how long has it been since he did.

His therapist says it’s okay to feel on edge for little things. That there is nothing as such, and he can always act on it as long as it makes his restlessness goes down.

The knock on his neighbor’s door is a bit harder. Miss Mary has a hearing problem, hence why her 60’s music always sounds too loud. It never bothered Jason though, sometimes Jason and Tim even danced to it.

“Miss Mary?” Jason called when he hears no steps and only a sound of sax from a recorder.

After a few seconds, the door opens, a lady with big cloudy green eyes looks up at him from the little opening of the door. The chains hold the door to a certain gap.

“Oh, Jason sweetie,” she melted into a smile, putting tension on her sagging skin. She closed the door, undoing the chain and opens the door wide, “How can I help you? Would you like to come in?”

“It’s not necessary Mary, I just want to ask if Tim went out.”

“That boy? Yes, he told me you’ll come. Told you not to worry,” Mary slaps him on the biceps, “Is he okay? Where are his parents?”

“Don’t worry, he just has a bit of cold.”

“My eyes might be bad, but that boy is as healthy as a horse! What are you talking about?”

“You’re right Mary.”

Jason jumps with hairs standing up.

Tim giggles triumphantly from behind him.

“Jesus Tim, scared the bones outta me. Got your phone?” Tim lifts his phone up. “What did your parents say when they see you?”

“Didn’t say anything because I didn’t see them. Only the maid is there.” Tim shrugs.

“Where are they? How can parents not be home?” Miss Mary asked.

Tim and Jason look at each other before Tim finally reservedly smiles, “They’re out of town for work.”

“When will your parents be back honey?”

“They won’t be back for a long time.”

“Oh, you must be lonely.”

“No, I’m not. I got Jason with me.” Tim steps closer and links his arm around Jason’s waist and leans his pretty little head on Jason’s shoulder. Suddenly a volcano burst inside his chest and a bunch of hearts geyser out of it.

“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest!” Mary smacks Jason’s bicep again. It’s something Mary does, Jason is whatever about it.

Jason put his arm around Tim’s and squeeze firmly feeling the chill on Tim’s damp cloths and Tim’s warm hand on his back.

“Alright, thanks Mary, I’m gonna take Tim to bed now, good evening.”

“You too love!” and she closes the door.

“Wait, to bed? The sun is still up!” Tim whined.

“You’re warmer than yesterday.”

“Really? But I feel totally fine!”

“You’re still sick, and did you eat the lunch I left?”

Tim looks away guiltily, and Jason sighed, “I’ll make you some chicken soup, it’ll be easy to eat.”

“Yeah, I think I could eat that.” Tim lets go of his hand and looks at Jason.

There’s a coldness in his eyes, never before that Jason sees him like that, it chills him to the bone. Not quite in anger, but the rapid change sends shivers down crawling at the back of his neck. It still looks like Tim, but Jason doesn’t know this part of him, and Jason’s not sure what to make out of it.

“I’m not sick, I’m not your mom.”

It feels like that’s the last thing Jason remembers that day. The morning after, Jason wakes up without Tim, and no note left behind.

 +++++

 Jason tried Tim’s phone but there’s no reply. Jason tried to wait a day but Tim hasn’t come back still. Two days passed by, Tim must’ve been back to his house. But then again, Jason knows Tim, he’d rather die than goes back there. What does that make Jason that Tim would rather go back to his parents than talk things out with Jason?

Last time Jason meets with Tim’s parents ended up with a restraining order. No, not on Jason, but on Tim’s parents. Long story. Now, Jason is in front of the Drake’s resident with no shame or anger stopping him.

The first one to show is Mr. Drake, he looks nothing like Tim. His face looks just as long as his neck and just too narrow. Under his dark green robe is a white and blue pajamas, seems like Jason just disturbed his break time.

“You,” the old man spat, “What do you want?”

Jason lets his face twitch, but not show his distaste, “Tim, is he here?”

“What are you talking about? Tim is-”

“Honey,” called a woman from the doorstep, she too is in a robe. A blue satin one that reaches her mid-calf and her hand clench above her heart.

She approaches with a slow and careful pace, “Jason, Tim is sick,” she says the most obvious thing with caution.

“Yes! I was taking care of him in my apartment and then he just vanished. Did he come here? Is he still sick? Do you care about him now after he’s sick to death?” Jason pointedly glares at the old man who glares back at the same intensity.

“See here you lunatic-”

“Jack!” Mrs. Drake scolds, and Mister Drake glares at her too, but a single shake of the head from her subdues him. “Tim is out buying groceries. Wait here Jason, I’ll call him,” she said then promptly walks inside her house, so does Mister Drake after giving Jason a stink eye.

Then what’s left is Jason leaning onto the gate. Looking at the road and the residential area, makes Jason's skin crawl. This place gave him unpleasant memories.

He waited until the sky is getting dark. While he waits, his mind rotates to the possibilities that the Drake might’ve been lying to him. Well color him with shit, ain’t he dumb.

Just as he’s about to grab a rock and throw it to one of the windows, a white van parked right in front of the Drake’s sidewalk. A bunch of men came out of the van’s sliding door, wearing high-collared all whites like nurses. One of them grabbed Jason’s by the arm, and it shocked Jason when he couldn’t yank his arm away.

“Let go of me!” Jason growled, but none of the men responded. The one on him is trying to subdue him while the other is carefully approaching.

“Who the fuck are you guys? Get away from me!” Jason screams this time, trying to desperately run away. The nurse pulls him with a force that throws him off balance, and his arms quickly locked behind him.

“ARGH!” Jason screamed as a sharp pain shoot from the back of his neck. His blurry vision catches one of the nurses with a syringe.

As he looks up, Janet and Jack Drake are looking down from one of the windows. Even so, as Jason’s consciousness slips away, his last wish was to see Tim popped into view in one of those windows. Tim doesn’t.

 +++++++

 Jason woke up wearing a baby blue shirt and matching knee-length shorts. Only after a few seconds staring at it that he recognizes it’s a patient's uniform. He was about to run away if the familiar woman isn’t the second thing he sees.

“Wh- Miss Mary? What... what are you doing here?”

Miss Mary serves her usual kind smile. Like the room, her clothes are white and clean. Tidy like it’s just been ironed and proper like an office worker. She wears an id card on her shirt’s pocket on her right. ‘Marilyn Pepper. Head Nurse’.

Jason looks around, it doesn’t look like a hospital. Beside his bed is another bed, and beside that is a lot more beds in this one big room tidily rowed with two-meter space from each other.

“Jason, I’m going to tell you something you might not believe,” Miss Mary says softly as she sits down on the edge of Jason’s bed. “This is a mental institution, and you’ve been here for a few years now.”

Her words punch the air out of Jason’s lungs. His head shakes as he starts to feel uneasy in his own skin.

“You’re... no, I was in my apartment yesterday, I was... I was with Tim!” Jason jumps out of his bed, “I don’t have time for this, I’m leaving,” then he storms out of the room.

The halls seem like it goes on and on, both ended with a double door. The place is too clean for comfort, too sterile to even possibly exist. A few nurses walking back and forth with a writing board on their hands. Their eyes straight ahead as they walk, as if Jason is not there.

In the end, he chooses one door and proceeds cautiously. A tap on his shoulder makes him turn vehemently. A young nurse with a familiar face is taken back as she moves her hand away. Jason doesn’t know who she is, only the gut feeling that he does.

“Yo, Jason you okay?” the blonde tips her head to the side.

Her voice sends chills down his spine and Jason runs away. She tried to stop him, but he ran away.

He feels like a mouse in a maze with no way out. Trapped upon unfamiliar hallways that never ends. his head starts to feel light. The beating of his heart pumps with rapid breathing.

Another door feels like the other, but this one doesn’t lead him to another hallway. It’s a large room with sofas, chess tables and people doing their own thing. The soft retro music of the ’60s hits him the most, for a blink there he can see his apartment with this music played behind the wall. The right side of the wall is all glass and looks out to a green grass flooring with swings and a mighty tree in the middle where a few people sit by a plaid carpet.

It feels like the room spins around. A few eyes are on him before they go one with their business. Most of them are using the same clothes as Jason.

This is, a mental institute, that means they’re patients, and that means so does Jason? But he’s not crazy... he’s not! He doesn’t belong here.

“Whoa whoa whoa you’re like a merry go round there, stop spinning,” says a familiar voice. A pair of hand hed his shoulder and in front of him is Roy, wearing the same uniform as his.

“Okay, you know where you are?” Roy asked.

“Miss... Miss Mary said it’s a mental institute,” Jason says meekly, holding onto Roy, the last thread he knows is real.

“That’s right, let’s go outside okay?” Roy wraps an arm around his shoulders and Jason is disarray enough to follow.

The breeze smells of the cold air of spring. It cools down his frayed senses enough to makes sense that some things don’t. There’s a wooden chair where some people sit together and talk, two grown adults are by the swings, laughing like toddlers. The pretty and clean place is surrounded by a tall metal fence. Thick and sturdy as star-shaped spikes rowed at the tip. From the gap between the fence, he can see the city that seems on the lower ground and further away from where he is.

“Am I dreaming?” Jason steps closer to the gate, reaching towards the faraway city that has been his home.

“Nah, this’ pretty real,” Roy replied nonchalantly. “Do you remember when you get here?”

“I think I was taken yesterday. Tim went missing so I came to his house, just to see of he’s there and nothing happens. Then I guess his parents called the nurses.”

“Ok, the nurses part was right. You somehow escaped, you went missing for a while. But you’ve been in this institution for –get ready– five years.”

Jason whips around with blown wide eyes, “You’re fucking insane!”

“Well, we both are, that’s why we’re here.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Jason screamed, all the people in the yard looks at him and some even stand up as they inch away. “Tim is sick, he needs me! If I’m not there he could’ve... he could’ve died, I can’t handle that again.”

Roy shifts his eyes to the glass door and around before walking cautiously towards Jason, “Okay, calm down buddy.”

“No!” Jason storms past Roy.

“Jason just please wait a minute!” Roy holds on to Jason’s wrist but Jason easily brushed him off.

Behind the glass door is darker than the outside. Just before Jason opened the glass door, he takes a look at himself in the dark glass door that shows every detail of his face there. It’s almost like Jason is seeing someone else through the glass. He hated how he knows it him, the age that does a number to his face, and cruelly makes him look like the father he resents.

He steps even closer, putting his finger on the glass and trace all the points on his face that he detested. How deep his eyes sunken into the sockets on his skull. The fine lines beginning to form under his eyes. Chapped lips that split apart so bad that it’s slightly bleeding. Has it really been 5 years? Because he looked like time passes way beyond that. The longer he stares onto his reflection, the more his anger shimmers down and replaced with terror.

He looked just like his sickly mother before she died. It’s still a mystery why she never got better. Jason did everything right. When Tim fell sick, the dread of his mother’s death haunts him again. Mistakes of the past are a teacher for your future, but Jason’s past can’t teach him anything if Jason doesn’t know what he did wrong. All he knew was he doesn’t want to make the same mistake, to let Tim have the same fate as his mother because of his failure.

“Oh, that’s what happened,” Jason whispered under his breath.

He sees Roy coming from behind him at the corner of his eyes, but he can’t look away from his face just yet. He tried to remember what he did to Tim. What made him ended up here.

The glass door slides open, the first one to show is Miss Mary, then in front of Jason, is Tim.

Now as tall as him. His body filled up a little since he last remembers and a face that’s just as youthful as he was 5 years ago. His hair is trimmed and let down, not as long but the short hair makes him look more mature than the boyish teen Jason remembered. He’s wearing fit ankle-length trousers with patterned baby blue button-up with oxford shoes. Unlike the skater boy Tim Jason used to.

Somehow, seeing Tim in front of him forces the reality down his throat.

“Jason, are you okay?” Tim asked with worried doe eyes. It’s unreal to hear Tim’s voice sounds lower now, but what breaks Jason the most is how Tim is also cautious of him.

“What did I do to you?” Jason’s question drops the temperature a few degrees. He can see Tim shrunk his shoulder as he slightly leans back.

“Please tell me, Tim,” Jason begged, “Don’t I deserve that?”

“No!” Tim scolds, freezing Jason on the spot, “You deserve to be well and happy and if forgetting what happened is all that it takes then... then it’s fine.”

Tim’s eyes glassed over with tears and he wipes them before they escape.

“How can I learn from my mistake if I don’t know what that mistake is? I need you to tell me, Tim... Timmy.” Jason called his nickname and Tim just look away, breaking his heart into shards, “Why are you so scared of me?”

Tim finally looks up, with gritted teeth and eyebrows digging close to his eyes, “I’m not! I just want you back, Jason. I want to wake up next to you again, and have your coffee and eat your cooking when you didn’t think I’m sick! I missed you! And If forgetting what happened is all it takes...” Tim’s voice trails to nothing, this time his tears free fall down to his jaw.

Jason for once left breathless and ashamed, seeing Tim in tears, he never makes him cry like this. But in the 5 years that left his memory, how many have those tears had shed behind him.

“You’ll remember Jason, this isn’t the first time this happened. You always prefer me to be honest, so, I have to tell you, this is the longest memory loss episode, hence I needed Tim to come.” Miss Mary comforted.

“Why did I forget?”

“We still don’t know. You have triggers whenever you’re left alone or when you touched someone that’s a bit warmer than usual, but how bad it affects you can lead to memory loss.”

Tim looks reluctant, but Miss Marry rubs his back, “It’s okay Tim, he’s getting better, it needs to be done.”

Then Tim finally nods, looking up to Jason and slip his arms between Jason’s torso and wrap him into a clinging hug. Jason immediately hugs him back. Just yesterday he hugged this body, but it felt like it’s been so long since he does.

Tim hold his hand and pull him towards the tree, “This is our favorite spot.” Then he sits down, which Jason follows suit. The yard looks a bit empty now. Whatever Jason did in the past, the patients seem to be wary of them. Fun.

“You’ve come here quite often then huh?” Jason mused.

“Yeah, to visit you.”

“Did you put me here?”

“No, you did.”

Jason smiled at himself, “Good.” Whatever insanity he was drowned in, he’s glad he had the sanity to put himself here.

Jason and Tim sitting under the tree’s shade, suddenly lost for words.

“I’m sorry,” Jason said after a long pause.

“Don’t be. None of this is your fault.”

“Will you tell me what I did to you now?”

Tim pursed his lips, playing with his fingers before he finally admits, “You lock me in your room, thinking I was sick. At one point you overdose me with cold medicine.”

The cold air blows but it’s not the reason why Jason has chills on his skin. Suddenly feeling like he shouldn’t be this close to Tim. As he was about to scoot away, Tim lay his head on his shoulder.

“Don’t,” he silently scold.

“What?”

“You’re not broken, just troubled.”

Jason knows that but it hurts that he hears it, but it helps that Tim’s here. How many times has this happened. How many times Tim have to come here for Jason.

“I’m a danger to you.”

“You’ve been getting better, I swear, and I’m so proud of you.” Tim retracts, putting his hands on each of Jason’s face.

It takes his breath away how pretty when Tim smiles. Tim leans closer and presses his lips on his. Chaste and gentle, it powers Jason’s heart to shoot out of his rib cage. Tim stands on his knees, and tuck Jason’s head to the crook of his neck, and wrap his shoulder. Jason holds onto the back of Tim’s waist and they hold onto each other like they’ve finally found each other.

“I’m going to get better,” Jason declared to the sky above and Tim in his arms, as a reminder to where he’ll return.

“I know baby,” Tim kisses the root of his hair. “Hey, I’m hungry.”

Jason smiled, “Am I really hearing you say that or is that my fucked up brain?”

“I’m really hungry!” Tim chuckled.

“I can make you something, I remember this place have a kitchen I can borrow. Want some eggs? I’ll make you coffee caramel flan if you do the dishes.”

“For those flans? Anything.”

[saxonspud]

Kidnapped - Chapter 2

“Three days McKenzie! Two hundred thousand, or you’ll never see your daughter again.”

These words echoed in your mind, as Dutch carried you towards the front door.

You’d stopped struggling, but you were still crying.

You felt dirty, the way his hand had stroked your face, the way his thumbs had rubbed up and down on the back of your neck.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” Dutch soothed, “three days and it’ll all be over.”

Panic raced through your mind, what if your father didn't have the money, or what if he decided not to pay. These men, these kidnappers would like as not kill you. They’d already told your father that if he didn't pay, he’d never see you again!

Dutch waiting by the front door, for Arthur and John.

John appeared first, with a bag in his hand.

“How’s he gonna get us the money if he’s tied up?” John asked.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “a house this size doesn’t clean itself. The maids will find them in the morning! Now stash that bag on your horse.”

John headed out the front door, just as Arthur emerged from one of the downstairs rooms.

“How d’ya get on, son?” Dutch asked.

Arthur nodded, “pretty good, ten thousand in the safe. If that's his loose change, the two hundred thousand shouldn’t be a problem!”

Dutch nodded, “good, c’mon lets get outta here.”

As Dutch carried you out the front door, you realised that this would probably be your only opportunity to get help.

“Help! Please, somebody...” You screamed at the top of your voice, but your scream was cut short, when Dutch’s hand clamped over your mouth.

Not to be silenced, you tried to bite his hand.

“Fuck!” he hissed, “you little...” he didn't finish the sentence, biting his tongue.

Dutch put his hand around your throat, enough pressure to silence you, and frighten you a little.

“Now that wasn’t very polite, was it!” he growled.

Arthur walked beside him and pulled out a bandanna.

“You want me to do the honours?” he smirked.

Dutch nodded, as Arthur tied the bandanna over your mouth.

You tried to scream, but it just came out as muffled grunt.

“Now young lady, you better behave yourself,” Dutch growled, as he walked towards the front gate.

Javier looked at you and grinned, “furiosa chica bonita!”

You couldn’t understand what he said, but you carried on trying to scream through the gag.

Dutch laid you over the front of the saddle, the mounted up. Before he had a chance to push his horse on, you started to kick with your legs, still trying to scream through the gag.

The Count, Dutch’s horse, started to prance and whinny.

“Enough! Dutch yelled, and swatted you on the backside three times with the flat of his hand.

You squealed through the gag, then started to cry.

“Listen to me Emmeline,” he growled, “we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I can assure you, you won’t want to do it the hard way!”

Dutch pushed his horse on, as you whimpered, through the gag. The other men followed closely behind, as they left the city, and your family home behind them.

You had no idea where you were going, and even less idea how you would be treated. The ride to wherever they were taking you, was not the most comfortable one for you. Your screams, turned to sobs, and then into whimpers.

You wondered if you’d been a little less rebellious when you left the house, whether the trip would have been made more comfortable.

It was very unlike you to be quite so unruly. You were usually very meek. But then it wasn't everyday you got kidnapped, tied up, and in fear for your life.

When you finally arrived at your destination, Dutch dismounted, but didn't lift you immediately from his horse.

“Arthur, take her upstairs and put her in one of the bedrooms. One with a bed,” Dutch ordered.

You were lifted off the back of the horse, and tossed over Arthur's shoulder.

From what you could see, it was a big plantation house. It was certainly nowhere near St. Denis. Any hopes of being rescued, completely disappeared as Arthur carried you into the house.

Dutch took your bag of clothes from John’s horse, and headed towards the house. He was quickly intercepted by Hosea.

“What have you done now?” he questioned, rolling his eyes.

Dutch smiled, “that Hosea, is our ticket out of here. That is Jonas McKenzie’s daughter. In his infinite stupidity, he decided to sell his daughters hand in marriage to our friend Leviticus Cornwall for a twenty percent stake in Cornwall Kerosene and Tar!”

Hosea frowned, “and there was me thinking slavery had been made illegal. So what's the plan?”

Dutch chuckled, “three days from now, McKenzie will be paying us two hundred thousand dollars to get his daughter back!”

“Are you sure he has that much?” Hosea queried.

Dutch rolled his eyes, “of course he has. Why do you think he wants those shares? Its so he can buy more, and have a controlling interest in Cornwall’s company. He had ten thousand in loose change in his safe!”

Hosea nodded. Although he still wasn’t happy about kidnapping a young girl.

“Poor kid, how old is she? Doesn’t seem right her being married off to that old bastard, he’s old enough to be her grandfather!” Hosea huffed.

Dutch nodded, “Seventeen, according to the information Josiah provided, and his information is generally good. Everything else was, including the lack of security.”

Hosea shook his head, “so the poor girl still gets offloaded onto Cornwall, once we get the money.”

Dutch hummed, “maybe, but that’ll be up to her. If she wants to go back in three days, she can. If not...In the meantime, I’ll let our little guest know the house rules!”

The room that Arthur took you into was lit by a couple of lanterns. As Arthur dropped you onto the bed, you whimpered. The ride from St. Denis had taken most of the fight out of you. That and the fact that you were wearing next to nothing, and your bottom was still stinging, from the swats you had received.

Arthur did kind of feel sorry for you, you hadn't asked to be kidnapped.

“Just try and behave kid, it’ll go better for you, if you do,” he advised.

He walked away from the bed, and headed towards the door.

You made a noise through the gag, hoping he would take it off. He didn’t he just quickly glanced over his shoulder, before leaving the room.

You laid there on the bed, all resistance and fight had gone. Being kidnapped by outlaws was bad enough, but learning that your father was intending to marry you off for money, was the last straw.

As the door opened, your heart began to race faster.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and you felt now that it had been a mistake to try and bite your captors hand, and kick his horse.

You closed your eyes. If he was going to kill you, you just hoped it would be quick.

“Emmeline? Are you going to behave?” Dutch asked.

You just lay on the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks.

You closed your eyes, as you felt him sit on the edge of the bed.

Dutch started to untie the bandanna at the back of your head, then gently pulled it from around your mouth.

“Emmeline, look at me?” you opened your eyes, and looked at him for a second. More tears flooded out of your eyes, so you turned your head and buried your face back into the blanket that covered the bed, and started to cry.

Dutch pulled his knife out, and cut the ropes which bound your wrists.

“C’mon sweetheart, sit up,” he soothed.

You pushed yourself up, so that you were sitting on the bed.

“Show me your wrists,” he ordered.

You held them out, not looking at him.

Dutch rubbed his thumbs across where the ropes had been.

“There,” he soothed, “no harm done,”

Dutch hesitated, before he spoke, “Emmeline? Look at me?”

You didn't move, you didn't want to look at anyone, you just wanted to be left alone.

Dutch put his fingers under your chin, and tilted it up.

“Emmeline, are you going to behave?” he asked sternly.

You nodded, gently.

Dutch shook his head, “No Emmeline, I need to hear you say it!”

You glanced at him, for a split second, “yes sir,” you whispered.

Dutch cupped his hand on your jaw, and stroked your face with his thumb.

“Good girl, now talk to me Emmeline, what's the matter?”

“I...I” you stuttered.

Dutch swept a strand of hair behind your ear, “take your time, I know this is all a bit strange, but there's something else bothering you, isn't there?”

You nodded, “I...I want to go home...but...” you hesitated.

Dutch sighed, “Well to start with, you cant go home, not yet. You have to stay here for a few days. While your here, you have to do as I tell you, is that clear?”

You lifted your head, and looked at him, “did you tell the truth?” you asked.

Dutch frowned, “the truth, which particular truth are you talking about?”

“Is...is Daddy really selling me off,” you stifled a sob, “I...I thought he loved me.”

Dutch thought for a moment, how was he supposed to tell and innocent young girl, that her father, had in fact sold her off for some shares in a business.

“Come here a minute, Emmeline. Sit next to me.” he urged.

You scooted across the bed, and sat next to him. Dutch put his arm around you, and gently rubbed your back, “I’m sure your daddy loves you, in his own way...but he loves money and power more. When your daddy pays us. If you go back, then he’ll still marry you off to that old oilman. He’s not a good man. He cares about money and power, more than your happiness.”

You let out a sob, and tears began to fall again.

“Now Emmeline, I need you to listen to me, and listen real good. We don't just randomly go around kidnapping young women, like yourself. That ain’t my style.”

Dutch gently stroked your face, “A pretty girl like you, could have any man she wanted. You shouldn’t be marrying a sour old weasel like Leviticus Cornwall!”

You frowned, “I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

Dutch pressed his lips to your forehead. “You’ve had a long and stressful day, go to bed, and I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.”

You pouted, “No...Please, you have to tell me now!”

“Emmeline! What did we say about behaving? Do you want a repeat of what happened when you upset my horse?” Dutch warned.

You shook your head, “no sir.”

“Exactly, when I tell you to do something, you do it. If you don't, there will be consequences, do you understand?”

“yes sir, I’m sorry.”

Dutch softened his voice, “good girl, now hop into bed.”

Dutch removed his hand from your back, and you crawled up the bed, and climbed under the covers.

He stood up, and sat on the edge of the bed, next to you.

“Lay down.”

You slid under the covers, and laid your head on the pillow.

“Letting you do as you liked, with no consequences, didn't mean your daddy loved you, Emmeline. Now be a good girl and go to sleep,” Dutch scolded.

You looked at him, “can I ask you a question?”

Dutch rolled his eyes, “quickly then!”

“Who are you, how do you know my daddy?”

Dutch chuckled, “that's two questions, but I’ll answer one of them. My name is Dutch Van Der Linde.”

You gasped, “I read about you in the paper, you killed someone!”

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Emmeline, but your safer with me than with a lot of people I know!”

“Are you...Are you gonna kill my daddy?”

Dutch leaned over and kissed you on the forehead.

“Enough questions Emmeline. Time for you to go to sleep,” he whispered.

You watched as he walked towards the door. He didn't look around when he opened it, but he sensed you were looking at him

“Emmeline, I’m coming back in ten minutes, and if your not asleep, your gonna wish that you were!” he scolded.

You quickly closed your eyes, as you heard him chuckle on the other side of the door.