#ferdinand looks at her and says 'i see!!! so you think you can wear pink better than i!!!!'

[thirteendaysintaunton]

edelgard is that girl who is so busy between planning a school dance and a coup that she just throws all of her clothes into the laundry at once and comes back only to find all of her whites are now pink because she forgot about her bright ass red cape. she has to go to class in her pink uniform until she can get new clothes

[thiswasinevitableid]

10 tattoos/piercing, Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go! I based Dani's design on an arowana because I liked the color.

“Remember, non-scented soap, nice to meet you, byeee!” Aubrey waves to her client as they head down the boardwalk. She has thirty minutes until her next appointment, so it’s time to stretch her legs and check the little ‘doggy cam” she set up on Dr. Harris Bonkers cage to make sure the giant rabbit hasn’t finally managed to chew his way through the bars.

“Hi doctor” She coos into the phone. One white ear pivots towards the camera, but the bunny remains otherwise unmoved.

She leans on the railing, Pacfic sparkling like a postcard before her.

“Excuse me?”

“YEEEEP!” She jumps back, not expecting a woman to pop out of the water, let alone pop out and talk to her.

“Oops, sorry.” The other woman smiles, golden hair fanning out around her. There are two types of blondes in Long Beach; the ones hoping to be the next influencer sensation and the kind who are excited to tell you about GOOP and crystals.

Whichever kind this woman is, she’s the most gorgeous girl Aubrey’s ever seen.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Yeah! Can you tattoo me? A piercing would be okay too, but I really like how pretty the tattoos are.”

“Thanks. Um, you’re gonna need an appointment.” She pulls out her phone again, since it’s synced to the calendar Joseph makes them all keep, “lemme see....I have a big slot of time on Friday afternoon.”

The girl cocks her head, “That’s two days from now, right?”

“Yep.We can start at one if that works for you?”

“Sure, see you then!” She waves and then disappears under the water. A few moments later, a shimmering golden tail breaks the swell, seeming to wave once before submerging. Aubrey blinks, switches back to the bun cam.

“How do I tell Joseph I have to move my stuff outside to tattoo a mermaid?”

Dr. Harris Bonkers snuffles, but offers no further commentary.

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

“Joseph, for the last time, you are not gonna hang around just to ask my client questions while I’m trying to work.”

“I don’t plan to, but we need to make sure everything, and I mean everything, is as sterile as we can manage. Doing this outside gives me hives as it is.” Joseph finishes setting up the pop-tent, the kind sun-phobic families take to the beach.

“C’mon, people gave each other traditional tattoos out in the open for centuries. It should be fine.”

Joseph makes an unsure noise, but leaves her in peace all the same. Before long a golden tail flashes out of the water as the mermaid swims towards the beach, the closest spot to the pier where they could actually set the tent and generator up. It’s right on the tide line, Duck having used his almanac to tell them whether Aubrey would be chasing the tide or fleeing from it if the appointment turns out to be long.

“Um, hi again.” She waves.

“Hello!” The mermaid slides up into the surf. When she sits up, Aubrey turns pink.

“Uh, do you, uh, want a swimsuit or something?” Her voice is embarrassingly high.

The mermaid looks down, then at Aubrey studiously looking elsewhere, and laughs, “Oh, right, I forgot humans don’t like it when we’re bare-chested.”

“I mean it’s not that we don’t like it-” Aubrey mumbles.

“Be right back.” She pushes back into the sea, returning a minute later wearing a bright green bikini top, “is that better?”

“Yep!” She replies too quickly, “Sorry, I, um, I’ve never worked on a mermaid before, kinda figured you guys wore seashells or sea stars or something?”

“You...you realize where that would put the seastar mouths, right?” The mermaid scoots up onto the beach, tail in the water and back on the inflatable recliner they borrowed from Kirbys apartment.

“Ooohouch, you’re right, fuck, sorry.” She grabs her flash binder, brought in case the mermaid didn’t have a design in mind.

The mermaid glances over her shoulder, smiling, “You’re cute when you blush.”

She maintains her professionalism, but only just, as the mermaid chooses her preferred design; a brightly colored swirl of planets and stars. For a newbie, she barely seems to register the needle, focused instead on studying Aubrey’s face and hands as she works. She learns that her name is Dani, that she’s one of several merfolk living near the pier, and that she’s observed Aubrey and her handiwork courtesy of a rock and a pair of salvaged binoculars.

“Oooh” Dani wiggles her tail happily when she sees the finished product, “it’s perfect, thank you so much Aubrey.”

“Glad you like it-oh, okay.” She stiffens as Dani rubs their cheeks together twice before pulling back.

“I’m supposed to keep it clean right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how well saran wrap will hold up to sea water.”

A formerly empty Rose bottle thunks onto the sand. Dani grabs it, popping the make-shift cork off with her teeth.

“Ooh, Indrid sent me a special covering to keep it safe. And these must be for you.” She holds out two pearls.”

“Thanks” She’s more interested in watching the kissable lips covering razor sharp than the gems the mermaid gives her.

“Can I see you again?” Dani is halfway back in the water.

“Whenever you want. You’re a great client; you, um, you’re really nice to touch. Wait, um, I mean you take it really welllARGH, um, yes please come back.” Aubrey replies, tucking the second most valuable thing on the beach into her pocket and continuing to blush well after Dani has returned to the waves.

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

“AHFUCK!”

“Sorry!” Dani gives a sheepish wave to Duck before turning to Aubrey, who got used to her popping out of the water five times ago, “are you free tomorrow?”

“Sure” even if she isn’t, she’ll happily reschedule another client for Dani’s sake, “do want to pick something from my flash?”

“Nope, this time Indrid designed something. It’s about the same size as this” she holds up the watercolor hermit crab on her right arm, “see you then?”

“Of course.” Aubrey waves goodbye, blows a kiss when Dani is out of sight.

She forgot Duck was still here.

“You got it bad, Lady Flame.”

“Shush, I saw you chatting to Indrid by the coffee shop yesterday.”

“....you can’t prove anythin.”

She holds up her phone, smirking, “Oh yes I can.”

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

“Aubrey!”

She looks up, wondering who’s calling her name on the deserted beach. She brings Dr. Harris Bonkers down here on a leash late at night for enrichment for him and a break from the summer heat for her.

“Aubrey, over here!” Dani leaps through the surf until she;s only able to slide, “I thought it was you. Ohhhhhh” she squeals, “this must be Dr. Harris Bonkers. Hello cutie pie, aren’t you just so lovelyOH, oh he feels like an otter.” She rubs the rabbits head, causing him to creep towards the water, “you’re the second cutest thing on this beach, doctor.” She winks at Aubrey, then sits up, “can I introduce him to Ferdinand?”

Aubrey nods, excited to finally meet Dani’s pet; she only his name, but she’s expecting a seal, or maybe a crab.

What she gets is an octopus. The cephalopod winds a tentacle around her arm, investigating her.

“Aww, he likes you.” Dani sets the octopus down in shallow water, where it proceeds to stretch multiple limbs out to poke Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“Guess they’re having a playdate?” Dani scoots closer, resting her head on Aubrey’s shoulder.

Aubrey sets a hand on her tail, running her fingers up and down the scales as the mermaid sighs happily.

“As long as he doesn’t carry Dr. Harris Bonkers into the tidepools, they can hang out as long as you like.”

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

“Dani? How many tattoos are you planning to get?” Aubrey looks up from where she’s outlining an octopus on Dani’s side.

“I haven’t decided yet. It’s really common for mers to have lots of piercings and tattoos. That’s why Indrid can leave Duck so many expensive tokens; he’s the most in-demand tattoo artist on the coast.”

“Neat! Wait-” she sits up, shutting off the gun, “your friend is a tattoo artist, but you kept coming here?”

“Yes.” Dani is still, save for the end of her tail, which vibrates nervously.

“Why?”

“Um, well, I, I really liked your style. Then I really liked you, and I wanted to keep seeing you…”

“Holy crap, do you keep getting tattoos because you think that’s the only way you’re able to see me?”

“Uhhuh.” Dani is bright pink from her cheeks to her waist as Aubrey scrambles to sit in front of her, “I mean, when you want to date someone, you’re only allowed to see them at their work until they say they want to date you too. Even us meeting on the beach a few weeks ago was pushing it, and I didn’t want you thinking I was pushy.”

“....Huh?”

“Do humans not have that rule?” Dani’s honey-colored eyes widen.

“Nope. It’s actually kinda rude to ask people out at work, because they can’t get away BUT” she hurriedly sets the gun aside, “but I make exceptions for super cute wonderful mermaids.”

“Oh. In that case-” Dani knocks her backwards with her tail and climbs atop her, kissing her so hard she wonders if you can die from a really good make-out session. When the salty kiss ends the mermaid continues peppering her face with kisses and flicking her tongue along her neck.

“Dani I, I’m loving all of this but if you mess up my ink I’m gonna be as annoyed as I can possibly be with a gorgeous mermaid feeling me up.”

“Crap, you’re right.” Dani sits back up, glancing at the half-done tattoo, "I really don't want to ruin your work. Desperate need to see you aside, I do love your style." She folds her hands back into her lap and readjusts onto the inflatable chair.

Aubrey crawls forward, kissing her sweetly, "Once we're done and you're all wrapped up, wanna join me on the beach for a little, um, late night picnic."

A teasing kiss, first to her nose and then to her lips, "I'd love to."

[paladinwife]

The True Winter Envoy

Surprise, @horsescarves! I was your match for the Yuletide event too, and I have a very special gift for you courtesy of Ferdinand.

Ferdinand treats Mana to a Winter Festival she will hopefully never forget. ~1.1k words, warnings for Christmas-related content.

“My dearest Polaris, the Winter Envoy has arrived!”

Ferdinand’s voice called from the other room, interrupting Mana’s sleep. Still bleary, she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Ferdinand? What was he doing?

She stood, pulling her robe on and following the sound of Ferdinand’s strong voice. Creeping down the hallways, she checked each room, listening for her beloved husband. How strange that, everywhere she looked, she could not see any of the house’s staff. Still, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Ferdie?”

“In here, my dear!” His voice called. Was he in the sitting room, perhaps? She peeked her head around the corner.

Sure enough, there he was. He stood there, dressed head to toe in the red-and-white clothes of the Winter Envoy, his arms full of brightly-wrapped and glittering boxes. How long had he been holding those? Had it been the whole time? What a dummy.

“The most joyous and bright of Winter Festivals to you, my Polaris.” He flashed a smile, carefully setting down his generous armfuls of gifts. “I prepared all of the gifts for you.”

“Ferdie? How long have you been wearing this? When did you get all those gifts?”

“Ah, but an envoy must keep his secrets, my dear.” He gave his wife a playful wink, but she could see the tiredness in his eyes. How late had he worked on this? She noted to herself that he would need some well-deserved cuddles and nap time later. “Please, do not let me keep you from enjoying your gifts!”

“But wait, where are all the-“

“Not to worry, they are at home with their families so that they can enjoy the holiday as well.” Even with his tired eyes, his smile was shining bright, and he seemed to glow with pride. “Our festival feast is already prepared and ready for you to enjoy at your pleasure.”

Mana stared in surprise for a moment. He really had thought of everything. She really didn’t know what else she expected with her overachieving husband. There were so many things she could have said about his extensive preparations, so much praise she could give. Instead, words failed her. The only thing she managed to say was: “I love you, Ferdie.”

Ferdinand laughed his wonderful, sparkling, distilled sunshine laugh, and Mana could feel her cheeks burn. “Oh, before you open your gifts, I have gathered some very special gifts from your friends here.” He gathered another armful of gifts, carefully setting them in front of her so she could see each one. “They all sounded so thrilled to hear what you think of them.”

Mana looked over the array of gifts before her, and already she had her suspicions of who had conspired with her dear husband to send her these gifts. Each was wrapped unmistakably: one in pink with a big satin bow and perfect creases on the sides, one embossed with the emblem of the Ashen Wolves in rough-textured paper that must have been homemade, one in deep red with the wax seal of the Emperor atop it instead of a bow, another in lovingly chosen satin paper and a black bow adorned with tinsel. There were many, each giving hints of its giver. Mana could feel the tears well in the corners of her eyes. Already she knew her husband loved her, but to think her dear friends loved her this much - she could see all of the love in what was presented to her, and it filled her with warmth. This warmth was mirrored on Ferdinand’s face as he beamed over her reaction.

“Are you going to open your gifts, my dear?”

Mana paused to wipe a tear from her eye. “You dummy,” she laughed, dabbing at her eyes with her hands. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“Oh, but I did,” he insisted, seating himself beside Mana and planting a kiss on her cheek. “What kind of husband would I be if I failed to make our Winter Festival together wonderful?”

Mana began to giggle, wiping one more tear from her eyes. “At least let me give you my gift, if you’re going to do all of this for me.”

“A gift, for me? My Polaris, I am certain that any gift you could give me would-“ his praise was cut short by her shoving a box into his arms. It looked simple enough, a box wrapped in white and dressed with a red bow, but by its appearance it was clearly wrapped with care. Tenderly he untied the bow, gently pulling the paper open without tearing it. He lifted the box, and inside: a stuffed horse.

He lifted it gingerly, looking it over. The fabric was soft, like the fur of the wooly horses of Fodlan. And the seams, he could tell, were painstakingly sewn in by hand.

“My dear… is this that ‘project’ you would never tell me about? The one you have been working on for this long?”

Mana’s face turned red. “Listen, I don’t know anything about noble business or fancy gifts. So I decided to make you something myself. It took this long to even learn how to sew it. You wouldn’t believe how many times I poked myself trying. I don’t know if it’s any...”

She looked up and saw in his eyes a look of childlike joy which she had very rarely seen before. “My love, I cannot think of a single gift that has ever meant more to me.” He held the stuffed horse up to his face again. “Where did you learn to make this? I am amazed at such craftsmanship.”

“Let’s just say Bernadetta is a very patient teacher.” She rubbed her thumbs over the tips of her fingers, still feeling the remains of the many pinpricks she had suffered over the past few months. “Happy Winter Festival to you, Ferdinand.”

“And to you as well, my Polaris. Thank you for the thoughtful gift.” He gently pressed the snout of the stuffed horse to her face, as if to give her a kiss. Mana’s face reddened again, and she rubbed her cheek.

“Hey, can we eat now? Being so sappy is making me hungry.”

He laughed. “Anything for you, my love.”

[parkerwhitmore]

𝑮𝑶𝑫𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑵 𝑴𝑨𝑵 𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑫 … a parker whitmore playlist

i. american idiot — green day;     ii. normal fucking rockwell — lana del rey;     iii. loser — beck;     iv. let’s spend the night together — david bowie;     v. the ballad of me and my friends — frank turner;     vi. troublemaker — weezer;     vii. the less i know the better — tame impala;     viii. you! me! dancing! — los campesinos!;    ix. walking on a dream — empire of the sun;     x. no. 1 party anthem — arctic monkeys;     xi. pork and beans — weezer;     xii. cpr — the walnuts;     xiii. take me out — franz ferdinand;         xiv. ringtone — 100 gecs;         xv. electric feel — mgmt;         xvi. money machine — 100 gecs;         xvii. you told the drunks i knew karate — zoey van goey;         xviii. do you want to — franz ferdinand;     xix. hand crushed by a mallet — 100 gecs;     xx. compensating — amine;     xxi. dumb bitchitis — yung cxreal;     xxii. 25 bands and a gecco — 100 gecs;     xxiii. smack a bitch — rico nasty;     xxiv. blackjack — amine;     xxv. say so — doja cat;    xxvi. spiderwebs — no doubt;     xxvii. dennis — roy blair;     xxviii. money in the grave — drake;     xxix. hey ya! — outkast;     xxx. shine — amine;     xxxi. 1, 2 many— luke combs;         

( 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 )

american idiot —  green day.

“don’t want to be an american idiot, one nation controlled by the media. information age of hysteria: it’s going out to idiot america.”

norman fucking rockwell —  lana del rey.

“goddamn man child, you act like a kid even though you stand six-foot-two.”

loser —  beck.

“and my time is a piece of wax: falling on a termite that’s choking on the splinters. soy un peredor. i’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me? (gettin’ crazy with the cheese whiz!)”

let’s spend the night together —  david bowie.

“i’m going red and my tongue’s getting tied. i’m off my head and my mouth’s getting dry, i’m high, but i try, try, try.”

the ballad of me and my friends —  frank turner.

“and if you’re all about the destination, then take a fucking flight. we’re going nowhere slowly but we’re seeing all the sighs. and we’re definitely going to hell, but we’ll have all the best stories to tell!”

troublemaker —  weezer.

“i’m such a mystery, as anyone can see, there isn’t anybody else exactly quite like me. and when it’s party time, like 1999, i’ll party by myself because i’m such a special guy.”

the less i know the better —  tame impala.

“she said: ‘it’s not now or never, just wait ten years we’ll be together.’ i said: ‘better late the never, just don’t make me wait forever.’”

you! me! dancing! —  los campesinos!.

“i always get confused, because at supermarkets, they turn the lights off when they want you to leave. but at discos, they turn them on. and it’s always sad to go, but it’s never that sad. because there’s only so many places you’re guaranteed on getting a hug when you leave. and on the way home, it always seems like a good idea to go paddling in the fountain. and that’s because it is a good idea. it’s like rousseau depicts man in a state of nature: we’re underdeveloped, we’re ignorant, we’re stupid but we’re happy.” 

walking on a dream —  empire of the sun.

“we are always running for the thrill of it, thrill of it. always pushing up that hill, searching for the thrill of it. on and on and on we are calling out and out again. never looking down i’m just in awe of what’s in front of me. is it real now? when two people become one.”

no. 1 party anthem —  arctic monkeys.

“and it seems as though, those lumps in your throat that you just swallowed have got you going: come on, come on, come on. come on, come on, come on: number one party anthem.”

pork and beans —  weezer.

“i’m gonna do the things that i want to do, i ain’t got a thing to prove to you. i eat my candy with the pork and beans, excuse my manners if i make a scene. i ain’t gonna wear the clothes that you like, i’m fine and dandy with the me inside. one look in the mirror as i’m tickled pink: i don’t give a hoot about what you think.” 

cpr —  the walnuts.

“and when i start to move. it’s not me, it’s just one final, desperate twitch. and when i don’t come to, punch the air and curse you god but please know it’s not your fault. you did your best.”

take me out —  franz ferdinand.

“so if you’re lonely: just know i’m here waiting for you. i’m just a cross-hair, i’m just a shot away from you. and if you leave here, you’ll leave me broken, shattered, i lie. i’m just a cross-hair, i’m just a shot, then we can die.”

ringtone —  100 gecs.

“my boy’s got his own ringtone, it’s the only one i know, it’s the only one i know. 27 missed calls, lighting up my cell phone. sending you text saying “call you when i get home.” taking off my work clothes, working in a cold one.”

electric feel —  mgmt.

“all along the eastern shore, put your circuits in the sea. this is what the world is for, making electricity.”

money machine —  100 gecs.

“hey there pissbaby, you think you’re so fucking cool, huh? you think you’re so fucking tough? you talk a lot of big game for someone with such a small truck.”

you told the drunks i knew karate —  zoey van goey.

“i am drunk and on a ladder, not the smartest way to start my night.”

do you want to —  franz ferdinand.

“when i woke up tonight, i said: i’ve got to make somebody love me. got to make somebody love me. and now i know, now i know, now i know, i know that it’s you. you’re lucky, lucky, you’re so lucky.”

hand crushed by a mallet —  100 gecs.

“i was trying to find a way to kill time. i didn’t even get to tell you goodbye. i was trying to find a way to kill time. now you’re gone and i can never say goodbye. this feeling’s going to my head, i’m thinking things i should’ve said. you’ve circled me inside my room, i couldn’t go another day.” 

2am —  bear hands.

“i would never ask you to do something i wouldn’t do. i would never lose you, at least i’d never choose to. all your friends are sober, yeah we’re getting older.” / “making love is fine but all i want is to forget how old i am. nothing good happens past 2 am. i put the ball in your court, text me back, i want a full report, i want cash in hand.” 

compensating —  amine.

“i fucked up once again, and you know that i’m never too proud to beg. it’s hard to admit that i made my bed, but you know imma always wish you the best.”

dumb bitchitis —  yung cxreal.

“i’m a dumb bitch, i ain’t done bitch. you better run bitch. ‘cause i got dumb bitchitis.”

25 bands and a gecco —  100 gecs.

“i’ve got 25 bands and a gecko, and i've got 25 cans of the pesto, and i've got 25 mans but they're dead though, and I've got 25 cans of the Red Bull.” / also. the dog bark solo. very parker. 

smack a bitch  —  rico nasty.

“she hatin' 'cause i’m up, you can tell on her face. i been eating so much, i've been saying my grace. when the times was rough, i would look up and pray: thank god i ain't have to smack a bitch today .”

blackjack —  amine.

“i’m too fly to fight, can’t afford my price. this a white tee, bitch bite me. i’m on the high, they on the low. you killin’ my vibe, get out my zone.”

say so —  doja cat.

“day to night to morning, keep with me in the moment, i’d let you had I known it, why don't you say so? didn't even notice, no punches left to roll with, you got to keep me focused, you want it, say so.”

spiderwebs —  no doubt.

“sorry i’m not home right now, i’m walking into spiderwebs, so leave a message and i’ll call you back. a likely story, but, leave a message and i’ll call you back. and it’s all your fault! i screen my phone calls.”

dennis —  roy blair.

“if you knew how many songs, i'd sing on the roof above my dad's garage. i'd probably quit it, singin men in the parks till the sunset. it was Ramadan, neighbor's rules, played hide and seek, hid underneath the poly chairs downstairs, had a swing set on the tree above my window. don't know which way the wind blows.”

money in the grave  —  drake.

“it's a big gap between us in the game. in the next life, i'm tryna stay paid. when i die, put my money in the grave.”

hey ya! —  outkast.

“now, what cooler than being cool? ice cold! i can't hear ya! i say what's, what's cooler than being cool? ice cold! alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright!”

shine —  amine.

“i don’t wanna feel like i need ya. you’re a catch, but i’m not a receiver. i’m nervous what this might turn into, know my skin glows whenever i see you. that’s why i’m shining.”

1, 2 many  —  luke combs.

“there's no stoppin' me once i get goin'. put a can in my hand, man, i'm wide ass open. the tick-tock of that clock is like a time bomb. by half-past-ten, i’m half past tipsy. at quarter-to-twelve, man, i done had plenty. the countdown's on when the first beer hits me. 5-4-3-2-1 too many.”

[goldenlionimagines]

“I might have slept with your robe while you were gone” reader x Hubert

Of course! after this I may lay off the Hubie for a bit haha.

Fluff Prompt: “I might have slept with your robe while you were gone.”

Word Count: 2,479

 She was irritating. Even he had to admit, she was cute, but she was irritating. She was a dark mage from an Imperial Noble who hadn’t been corrupt, and thus, she begged Edelgard for a chance to fight. So, she was training. She would go into smaller battles, but she was nowhere near front line material, not in his eyes anyway.

 And he was in charge of her.

 Threats didn’t bother her. In fact, most of the things that bothered most people about Hubert didn’t seem to bother her. One of his least favorite memories of her had happened just recently. He had been teaching her how to make coffee, at her request of course.

 This was their fifth day working, and she had finally gotten the brew… near perfection. When he took a sip, he couldn’t help but smile. After all, it was her territory that grew his favorite coffee beans. She was brewing with them. “Aw, Hubie, you look cute when you smile. That must mean I did it right, huh?” She said proudly.

 He wiped the smile from his face, clearing his throat before speaking. “It is quite alright, though, it still needs work.” He expressed. “I would appreciate it if you refrained from calling me by Dorothea’s nickname, or words such as cute.” He watched her laugh at his response. Why had  he ended up with someone such as this?

 He was now out on a mission with Edelgard, just heading back to the Castle in Embarr. They were walking side by side. “Hubert, do you have a crush on Y/N?” Edelgard had asked, causing his cheeks to tint a bit pink. She raised her eyebrow as he was quick to shake his head in response.

 “Of course not, Lady Edelgard. I am simply training her and helping her in order to aid in our mission. That is the extent of my relationship with her.” He stated bluntly. That was all they had, wasn’t it?

 “It just seems that… You’ve been helping her in more ways than help with the war effort. You always seem so proud of her, coming to tell me when she’s able to use what you’ve taught her to defeat Caspar or Ferdinand. At the same time, you never let her come on missions with us.” Edelgard explained.

 “She isn’t prepared enough yet. That’s all.” He explained. “There is nothing more than that.”

 “Really? Then how would you feel if she did get injured on one of those mini-missions you always send her on? Would you stop sending her?” He opened his mouth to respond. “Or what about the little things you’ve been teaching her? Such as cooking, cleaning, gardening, making coffee? Are those useful battle techniques that she needs?”

 They approached the door to the castle. “I’m simply helping her when she asks. And I’ve never had to worry about what I would do were she injured, because she’s never been injured.” He bowed to her. “Excuse me, Lady Edelgard, now that we are home, there are things I should attend to.” He began walking away, and Edelgard sighed.

 He walked upstairs, up to Lady Y/N’s room. He wasn’t into Y/N in that manner… No, that was wrong. She just irritated him, and she was too important to die, or get hurt for that matter. If she got hurt… No, don’t think about that. 

 He knocked first. No response, but the door was unlocked. “Lady Y/N?” He called. He knocked again. With there being no response again, he opened the door with a bit of concern. He looked to her bed and saw her… In his robes.

-

 Y/N and Dorothea were admittedly drinking a bit. Both had been left behind for that month’s mission, and they knew everyone would be back some time tomorrow morning. They were in Y/N’s room, and Y/N had just spilled some alcohol on her pants.

 Dorothea was laughing about it. “Hubie would be disappointed in you for being so sloppy with your drinking. ‘Lady Y/N, such a form is rude so near the presence of her highness. You should  be practicing a skill if you are awake at such a time. Allow me to aid you.’”

 Y/N laughed. “He probably would be helping me with something if he was here. I always wanna help him, or make him smile, but nothing works. He’s just… well, he’s something, that’s for sure.” She had a terrible, but somewhat funny idea. Dorothea could see it form on her face.

 “What are you thinking about?” Dorothea asked.

 “One second!” She got up, bouncing out of the room at full speed. Bernadetta stopped by, looking into the now open room. 

 “What is she doing?” Bernadetta asked, confused. “She looked like she was going into Hubert’s room…”  Bernadetta sat down next to Dorothea,  who laughed a bit.

 “Who knows. Maybe she found one of his cursed voodoo dolls and is going to show us.” She joked. Bernadetta got a look of concern on her face. “I’m just joking… They’re too hidden for that.”

 “Do you think it’s true that he likes her? I heard some of the guards around talking about it.”  Bernadetta asked Dorothea, assuming she would be the most informed on the topic.

 “It seems possible, but Hubie is so uptight about his feelings… It’s hard to say whether he cares about her or is trying to think of all the ways to plot her murder.” Dorothea laughed a bit more, and Bernadetta laughed along too.

 Y/N came back in, wearing one of Hubert’s robes. She was carrying her stained pants and put them away as Dorothea and Bernadetta started laughing again. “Y/N… Hubie would have your head for doing that. What if he comes tomorrow and catches you?”

 “He won’t catch me. I’ve done this before, the secret being I never wake up late when they’re coming home. Or, he knocks and I yell “Changing!”. He’s never even been suspicious, and besides, I’m just sleeping in them.”

-

 Y/N was about to eat her words. Hubert approached her, watching her stir as he did. He stood at her bedside, arms crossed as she started blinking with usual morning drowsiness. 

 “Good morning, Lady Y/N, I suppose you slept well?” He asked smugly, watching her eyes burst open. She squeaked, sitting straight up as she realized who was in the room with her. She shouldn’t try playing tricks with alcohol, should she?

 “A-Ah, Hubie. Good to see you’re doing okay. Don’t you usually knock before entering my room?” She asked nervously.

 “I’ve never heard you stutter in my presence. Your face is… simply priceless.” He smirked at her. “I did not, but you didn’t answer. I see you have been through my things…” He traced the collar on the robe she was wearing with his fingers. For once, he felt like she was giving him power in a situation, rather than making him act foolishly.

 “I might have slept with your robe while you were gone… and it’s not exactly the first time either.” He raised his brow as she started to laugh nervously. “But you caught me. I’ll stop now, since you obviously outplayed me and caught me. Good job by the way, you’re so smart.”

 “Not so fast.” He took his gloves off, leaving them on her side table. He also slipped his shoes off. What was going through his head? “Not only have you slept in today, but you’ve been going through my items without my knowledge. What if you had found something not meant for you? Or worse…”

 “Hey, but I didn’t! So it all worked out.” He got on top of her, positioning his knees on either side of her body. She could feel his cold hands up against her skin, and even shivered a bit. He smiled a bit at this, as it was the reaction he was hoping for. Goddess, forgive him for using this opportunity to his advantage. 

 “This is an old form of torture we stopped using on prisoners during interrogations.” He positioned his hands at her sides. “I think it will suffice in our current situation.” He gave her one of his more sinister smiles, before beginning to… tickle her. 

 He was devilishly good at it, watching her grab sheets and breathe out no’s and stops. Seeing such a reaction from her was somewhat satisfying for him in those moments.  She had always been irritating to him because he could never find a weakness to make her… Submit. But now, she was begging him. Was this what he had wanted from her?

 She wrapped her arms around his neck. “S-Stop!” He wrapped his arms around her, sitting up with her. It was the first time he had held her, well, ever. She was warm against him. Having her this close was… comforting to him. “Th-Thank you. Please don’t do that again.” 

 He gave one of his signature laughs, before exhaling. “Stay out of my things, and I’m sure we can find some agreement.” He removed one of his hands from  her, only to place it in her hair. He weaved his fingers through it, combing them through her unbrushed hair. How… Beautiful.

 She leaned against his chest, and he could see her face was completely red. “I would never tell the others, but I always miss you when you leave.” She laughed. “I know you always talk about how you don’t want anyone to get close to you, for this reason or another-”

 “You shouldn’t. It isn’t safe for you.” He took her arms off of him, placing her back on the bed. “There’s a tactical meeting in the evening before dinner. I’m sure your attendance would be appreciated.” He got up, putting his shoes and gloves on before exiting.

-

 Y/N usually didn’t join them for dinner. She would usually go out and get her own food, or maybe she would just have someone bring her food as she worked. Today, however, to Hubert’s surprise, she stayed after the meeting. He watched her seat herself next to Dorothea, as he sat himself next to Ferdinand.

 And thus, the games began.

 As the cooks brought out the pig, he watched as Y/N turned to Dorothea and began to whisper to her. Dorothea’s eyes locked on him. What was Y/N saying? Dorothea started laughing, and then whispering to Y/N, who also started laughing. 

 “Hubert, just ignore them. Knowing them, they are attempting to drive you crazy.” Ferdinand said. “Why don’t you just enjoy dinner? It smells delightful.”

 “Not now, Ferdinand.” Hubert sighed. “I believe this has something to do with what I did earlier, when we arrived back here after this month’s mission.” He looked at Ferdinand. “She started talking about how I do not allow myself to be close to people, for their safety as well as my own. I told her that she shouldn’t get close to me for that reason.”

 “Hubert, I have to wonder,,, If her speaking about you bothers you so much, is there a chance that you do wish she was close to you, despite your words?” He asked. Hubert looked over at her. Did he want to be close with her?

He did.

 He got up, walking to her. He could see her eyes following him as he walked. It was almost funny. He had never expected to fall for a girl he had trained so thoroughly, nonetheless a girl who he knew full well he didn’t deserve. She crossed her arms as he got close, and spoke before he could.

 “Why do you try so hard to protect me? Do you think I need it?” She asked him. “Because you trained me. You know how strong I am. I can handle myself. I can go on front line missions with you!” She was angry, and he knew.

 “Your skills could use refining-”

 “Goddess, there’s always a reason with you.” She shot an icicle through the pig’s apple, watching it just miss Edelgard. “Is that refined enough for you? Is anything I do good enough for you?”

 Hubert had missed the mark. He knew as she stormed off. She was powerful. Was she more powerful than him now?  “Hubert.” Edelgard broke the silence, as well as the thoughts in his head. “Leaving you in charge of Y/N was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. She’s become a force of her own.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to give her your faith. And maybe give her yourself, too.” She said.

 The Dining hall resumed its liveliness. 

-

 He knocked on her door this time. “Enter.” She said. When he did, she was in bed, wrapped in her covers. He sat next to her, and realized she was in his robe again. He laid down next to her, pulling her in with his arm. “Oh, hey Hubie, I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?”

 “No. Not at all.” He said. “You made me realize something.” He sighed, taking a moment before continuing. “I have been selfish. Instead of seeing your progress, all I saw was what I would feel were you to vanish from my life. Protecting you was easy, but I assume that trust is why boyfriend is such a difficult title for most to bear.”

 She turned around to look in his eyes. “So, are you going to trust me from now on?” She asked. 

 “Yes. I think I will. My apologies for taking so long, and causing you to get as angry as you were.” He said. “As well as… For keeping things from you.” He stated. He was surprised when she started laughing. 

 “Hubie,” Her smile almost made him smile too… Almost. “You are amazing at keeping secrets,,, But not so much your emotions. Everyone knew you had a crush on me, even me.” She laughed. He took her hands in his own, and closed his eyes. For once, her endless teasing and useless comments weren’t irritating. He was- Actually, he was quite comfortable.

 “I may require some sleep, if that is alright.” He sighed. “I did not sleep much on the mission.”

 “Aww, you don’t have somewhere to be?” She asked, causing him to sigh again. “Messing with you. We can cuddle any time, even if you are gonna be so stiff.” She teased him again.

 “Apologies. It’s fair to say I don’t have much experience in cuddling, or most romantic gestures.” He explained. He then felt her head lean into his chest, and for a few moments he was calm.

 “It’s okay, for once I’ll just be the one teaching you something.” She whispered. “Okay, now just dream that we get to fly away and be together. Like we are Black Eagles.” 

 Flying away like black eagles.

 He quite liked that.

[missmarquin]

Silk and Lace (Ferdiedetta)

Silk and Lace

Ferdinand/Bernadetta | Lingerie | Explicit | 2.1k 

Read on A03 for Better Quality!

She isn’t wrong; the lingerie really isn’t her, but isn’t that the point? It’s a simple slip, nothing fancy, all lavender silk and lace. It hangs on her frame well, pulling in her waist and making her hips look wider. It suits her bustline as well, cut in such a way that her cleavage swells attractively.

It isn’t her, but it looks good, it looks so good, and Ferdinand is finding it very difficult to remain a gentleman in her presence. So, he tries another tactic, his own fingers moving to swirl through the soft silk wrapped around him instead.

“Don’t you want to see mine?” he asks.

##

He hates that Bernadetta hates herself. 

She bites her lip as she looks in the mirror, her gaze washing over her form, brow wrinkling in anxiety. Ferdinand knows this look well; it’s the one right she gets right before she changes her mind, because she thinks it’s not worth it and--

Well, that just won’t do. 

“Bernadetta,” he calls softly. 

She won’t look at him, fingers crimping soft lavender silk as her gaze remains trained on her reflection, lip trembling and her demeanor skittish. “This was a mistake,” Bernadetta says. “I’ve really gone and done it now. This was a stupid idea.”

“Nonsense,” Ferdinand says. 

“It’s not me,” she says, fingering the edge of the hem. 

She isn’t wrong; the lingerie really isn’t her, but isn’t that the point? It’s a simple slip, nothing fancy, all lavender silk and lace. It hangs on her frame well, pulling in her waist and making her hips look wider. It suits her bustline as well, cut in such a way that her cleavage swells attractively. 

It isn’t her, but it looks good, it looks so good, and Ferdinand is finding it very difficult to remain a gentleman in her presence. So, he tries another tactic, his own fingers moving to swirl through the soft silk wrapped around him instead. 

“Don’t you want to see mine?” he asks.

Bernadetta’s head cocks to the side at that, interested. “You didn’t have to--”

“Nonsense,” Ferdinand says. He’d do anything to please her, really, even if it meant indulging in slightly… odd fantasies, such as wearing lingerie. But it’s soft and silky over his skin, and fits even his frame well, showing off defined pecs and strong thighs and well--

If she’d just look, he knows that she’ll like it. And he always likes what she likes.

“Bernadetta,” he says softly, soothingly, like he’s trying to talk to a skittish colt. “Come here, come take a look.”

Finally she looks at him, pulling her nervous gaze from the mirror, eyes ghosting over him as her lips part in surprise. “Oh,” she says, gaze raking over him, legs shifting slightly. “Oh,” she breathes, eyes narrowing to a half-lidded gaze, a shy smile spreading across her face and--

There it is, Ferdinand thinks. He shifts slightly, spreading across the soft duvet, making a show of what he’s wearing. Red silk slides over his skin, lace tugging softly as the hemline rides up his thigh. 

“So not a mistake,” Bernadetta says. “Definitely not a mistake.” 

Ferdinand hums in agreement and motions for her to come closer. She does, standing before the edge of the bed and he reaches out, sliding a hand along the curve of her hip. “I like this,” he says to her. “Definitely not a mistake,” he repeats with a small chuckle. 

She burns at the words, cheeks bright pink as she flounders a little, but Ferdinand only smiles at her before sitting up properly and tugging her closer. Bernadetta complies, moving between his legs, knees pressing into the mattress. Her head’s barely above his at this angle, but he looks up at her adoringly, hands sliding over her sides and then upwards. 

“It is a perfect color,” he says, fingering the soft silk. “Shapes you well.” His fingers cup her bust, thumbing over a nipple through the soft material, and Bernadette gasps, grasping onto his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin. 

“S-same,” she breathes. He pauses and she looks at him boldly. “You’re, um-- What I mean to say is…” She pulls at the strap of his slip, snug against his broad shoulder, tugging it gently. “

“I know, Bernadetta,” Ferdinand says. She doesn’t have to say it, she doesn’t have to embarrass herself and he’s not out to tease her.  But she likes him in the flimsy number, the soft silk and carefully woven lace, and he can tell. Her fingers are itching to reach out and touch, so he grabs her hand and pulls it to his chest. 

Her expression changes and his breath catches. Bernadetta is so rarely assertive in bed, but she’s been taken over by a hungry look, gaze sweeping over him with half-lidded eyes. Heat instantly pools in Ferdinand’s groin. 

Her small hand pushes him back, and he sinks into their mattress as she settles over him. 

“Bernadetta,” he says, hands going to her waist, squeezing gently. Her knees flank his thighs, as she leans over him, one hand pressed against his sternum. 

“I picked a good color, uh-- Yeah. A good color.” She pauses. “Are you sure that you like it?”

“You picked it out, darling, of course I do,” Ferdinand tells her, and he isn’t sure that she can turn any pinker but-- Oh, she’s damn adorable when she’s like this. 

Bernadetta bites her lip as she looks down at him, ghosting her fingers along the lacy edge of the slip he wears, cresting over the edge his pec. “The lace is nice,” she says, fingers dipping back to the middle of his chest, petting the soft hair there. “The silk too. So different than what I normally see you in, always such a prim and proper Prime Minister.” 

Ferdinand smiles up at her cheekily. “Oh? Tell me more.” Sometimes, she just needs gentle coaxing, and he smoothes circles cross the sharp jut of her hip bone as she swallows thickly. 

“Such a material,” she continues, sitting back on the meat of his thighs, hand slipping down his middle. “Soft and silky, just like your hair. I like it. Do… um, do you?”

“I’ve already answered that, darling,” he says. 

“But--”

He grabs her hand suddenly, pulling it down to his lap where his cock is tucked away, half hard and close to her leg. 

“Oh,” she breathes. Then she gives him a gentle squeeze through the silk, and he groans slightly, head falling back against the pillow, eyes slipping closed at the touch. “Oh,” she murmurs. 

There it is, that tone, that voice, the one when she finally finds herself and-- 

She squeezes tighter, palming him through the material. The slip is soft against his skin, the silk cool to the touch, but his cock is still burning, aching for more friction and a slicker touch. “You’re going to get this all dirty,” she sighs, lips tugged into a little pout. 

“And it will be your fault, I assure you,” he teases. 

Bernadetta tilts her head, lips quirking to the side, before she pulls away her hand suddenly. His hips chase the motion just slightly, and she tuts above him, her lips curling into a tiny little smirk. Her hands find his pecs again, pulling at the fabric there as she slots her hips over his, closer to his cock, closer to where he’s already burning alive, and he can’t help the soft moan the escapes his throat. 

“I like you like this,” Bernadetta says, voice a little stronger, demeanor more resolved as one hand snakes down the toned muscles of his abdomen. “Like a warm puddle underneath me, skin pale under neath this. Um--” She bites her lips, thinking, and then moves to slide the silk up one side. 

Ferdinand watches her, eyes half lidded as her gaze flickers down to where he’s hard and wanting, and she’s so beautiful, cheeks pink with desire, firm in what she wants and-- 

She takes his cock into her hand again, squeezing around the tip gently before pumping it once.

“Bernadetta,” he hisses, hips bucking into her grip, eyes falling closed. 

“So good for me,” she says to him, releasing him to lick at her hand, and the praise goes straight to his groin, burning right through him. Her next touch is slicker, wetter, hotter, tight around him as she lavishes his length with attention. “Wearing such a thing, indulging me.”

“Always, darling,” he says, gripping her hips tightly, thrusting into her tight grasp. 

Bernadetta gives him a devious half-smile, and Ferdinand isn’t sure he’s excited or apprehensive. “How do you want me?” she asks, punctuating her words with a slick twist of her wrist around the crown of his cock. 

It’s a simple question, but there are so many answers, so, so many things that he can request. His attention is on her hand though, and her well-placed grip and practiced motions as she jerks him just the way that he likes. Ferdinand knows that he won’t last long, because she looks so gorgeous in the lavender silk and lace, especially when she finds her confidence in their bedroom, hanging over him, full of lust and love and--

“Your thighs,” Ferdinand says. “I won’t-- darling, goddess above.”

“Already there,” Bernadetta muses. “Perfect.”

“On your side,” he pleads. “Bernadetta, on your--”

“Yes,” she murmurs, letting go of his length. He groans at the loss of warmth, the tightness of her fingers and palm. She crawls over him, only to lay along her side of the bed, back to his chest and he turns to her, hand resting gently on her thigh. Then she tugs the fabric of her slip up, and Ferdinand watches the swell of her ass, her hip are slowly revealed.

He hums, pressing close and pulling her back to him by the hips. Ferdinand slips a hand around her front, dipping between her thighs, moaning at her wetness and she sighs at the touch. “Bernadetta,” he murmurs close to her ear, licking a strip up the back of her neck, fingers settling deeper, slicking through her folds, circling around her clit. She moans at the touch, bucking into his hands, grinding and trying to find friction against his fingers. 

“Ferdinand,” she hisses, keening into his touch, “Ferdinand,” she moans, and he doubles his efforts, his other hand squeezing her breast through lavender silk. She’s perfect, Bernadetta is so perfect, soft and supple in his grasp, wanton and pliant under his touch. 

She goes taught in his arms, grinding hard against his hands, and he knows, Ferdinand knows that she’s just crested that edge, and he murmurs soft words against her ear, petting her gently as she rides out her orgasm. 

Ferdinand takes the opportunity to slip his cock between her legs; not into her properly, but just against her. “Goddess,” she breathes, arching her back against him as Ferdinand slides into her slick, soft thighs. She squeezes them tightly, encouraging him, and while it’s not that same as being in her, it’s still good, it’s so good, it’s still everything that he wants. 

His hand moves to her thigh, hiking the silk up and over her hip, squeezing the flesh there. “So good,” Ferdinand breathes against her, pressing his forehead into her shoulder as thrusts into the tight space between her legs. “So-- Goddess.”

She reaches back, fingers curling into his hair, tugging at the long locks. His scalp burns, but he loves it, he loves everything, he loves--

“I love you,” he says into her skin, words tattooed across the back of her shoulder as he thrusts against her again and again. Bernadetta mewls underneath him, arching back to meet his movements, the crown of his cock sliding against her clit at the perfect angle, just brushing across the soft and wet entrance of her core. 

It sneaks up on him, the burning, yearning that pulls at his entire being, until it boils up and over. He doesn’t just fall over the edge, he blasts right through it, coming with Bernadetta’s name on his lips, whispers of I love you’s against her skin. 

They’re both breathing heavily as they lay there, sticky with sweat, silk and lace rucked up in a mess around them. Ferdinand presses a soft kiss against the back of her neck, brushing her hair to the side to nose at the skin there. 

“Not a mistake,” Bernadetta murmurs.

Ferdinand chuckles at the absurd comment. “Never,” he tells her. “And definitely again.”

“I like you in silk,” she says, turning to look back at him. 

“I like me in silk too.” Ferdninand smiles cheekily. “But right now, we’re a mess, and I don’t want this beautiful thing to stain.”

“Oh? And what will you do about it?”

Ferdinand let’s go of her, pulling from between her thighs as he gently rearranges her onto her back. He’s half leaning over her, eyeing her form before his gaze travels southward with a hungry glint. Her thighs are a mess from the both of them, but she’s delectable, the lace, the silk, Bernadetta-- all of her, positively delicious. 

He settles between her, dropping a kiss to her nose. “I’ll have to clean you up, I suppose,” he says.

“Such a gentleman,” Bernadetta sighs, leaning back into their bed, settling into their pillows as she look at him. His lips curl into a devious smirk as he sinks downwards, downwards-- 

Bernadetta cries as he buries his face between her thighs, Ferdinand smiling against her skin, losing himself in her once more. 

[continuallycrow]

i could sit around here for the rest of my life

the coffeeshop/college au nobody asked for. casphardt week day 4: au day. read on ao3 here or below the cut.

“Caramel macchiato for Caspar?”

With a heavy sigh in anticipation of just how hideously Linhardt will have butchered his name on the cup today, Caspar heads to the handoff area and picks up his paper cup. The boxes are ticked and marked in his boyfriend’s easily recognisable scrawl, and just above the siren’s head, Cazpar is scribbled with a crude heart and what might be a butterfly, or might just be a mistake that’s not been crossed through all the way. From the register, Linhardt beams at him, and just for a moment, Caspar feels sixteen again, his heart clenching just a little, the way it always does when he gets to see that smile. It’s part of the reason why he acts so dramatic over the misspellings - because if it makes Linhardt grin and giggle like that, it’s got to be worth it.

“A fucking Z? Really, Lin?” He clutches his chest theatrically, pretends to stumble, and in the process, spills hot coffee all over his hand. “Ow!” “Idiot,” Linhardt scolds fondly, beckoning him over to the counter again and taking his hand. He mops at the coffee with a bit of blue paper towel, but Caspar knows that it’s just an excuse to touch him. Linhardt likes to be touching him. It’s just the way he is, especially now he’s got the Starbucks job at weekends and the football season is in full swing, it’s like they hardly see each other any more.

There’s no line, so Caspar lets Linhardt take him by the collar of his varsity jacket - it’s red and black, the Eagles colours, with his initials stitched on the left side of his chest and his jersey number embroidered on the back, and it might just be his most prized possession after Lin’s heart - and pull him in for a quick kiss. It tastes like coffee, obviously, because Linhardt always has a cup of something on the go, usually a weird secret menu creation or something topped with far too much whipped cream. Today, though, it’s something iced and black, and yet, Linhardt still hides a yawn in his sweater sleeve.

“You are not sleepy right now.” The disbelief is evident in Caspar’s voice. “Oh, but I am so sleepy right now, Cas,” Linhardt almost whines. “How much coffee have you had already?” His coworkers chime in, as if on cue, all bright-eyed as ever. “He’s on his third cup?” Ferdinand guesses. “Fourth, actually. I am surprised his heart is not stopping.” Petra sounds unamused.

Linhardt kisses Caspar again. It’s definitely just to distract him. “How could my heart stop, when you’re here? It beats only for you. And besides, I think I’ve become immune to caffeine,” he adds mournfully, gazing at his cup. Caspar rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a thing. Please drink some water. And call me when you get off.” He leans up for one more kiss, standing on tiptoe, because Linhardt is just that slightest bit too tall, and has taken to wearing a pair of thrifted, thick-soled Doc Martens that Dorothea says are the perfect compliment to his oversized knit sweaters and torn jeans, but Caspar just thinks they were picked out to make his boyfriend an inch too tall to kiss unexpectedly. The only time he can surprise Linhardt with kisses now is when they’re laying in bed, and it’s annoying to need him to bend down every time Caspar wants to show off how fucking cute and how in love they are.

“I promise I’ll drink water. And I promise to at least text you.” Linhardt practically lies across the counter to hug him. “Have fun at practise, okay? Don’t get hurt.” “I never get hurt. I’m fine. I’ll see you tonight.” Caspar reluctantly detaches himself, waves to Petra and Ferdinand, and leaves, the door chime jingling after him.

If he has to run to make practice in time, and his coffee is cold enough to chug by the time he gets there, it doesn’t matter so much when he’s seen Lin.

~~~

“Gingerbread latte for C-Caspar?”

The first snow has fallen on campus, and Caspar has finally given in to Dorothea insisting that he needs to wear more than a hoodie so he doesn’t freeze. He thinks, though, that it isn’t him anyone needs to worry about.

It’s Linhardt, shivering in his Christmas sweater and red apron even among the heat of the coffee machines, his hair coming down from its usually neat half-bun as he flits between bars, grinding beans and steaming milk and pouring hearts and roses in the foam. Petra’s working the register, so Caspar’s name is spelled right for once, and as he goes to take the cup, Ferdinand comes out of nowhere behind Linhardt and pats his shoulder. “Take your half-hour, while you can.”

Caspar beams, and practically drags Linhardt around the handoff, coffee forgotten as he wraps his arms around him. “A whole half-hour? We’re getting spoilt, Linny.” He’s already gently untying the apron strings so Linhardt can take the stupid thing off, so they can commandeer a low table in the corner of the room and Caspar can actually hug Linhardt for the first time in a few days. They’ve been so busy with studying and working that they haven’t had the chance for one of their impromptu sleepovers, both squeezed into a dorm room bed, or even to catch up at lunch. Caspar has been wholly deprived of boyfriend time, and judging by the way Linhardt pulls him down onto an overstuffed couch and buries his nose in the crook of his neck. His face is hot, but his hands are freezing, stained with tiny splatters of mocha and espresso and soon firmly curled in the folds of Caspar’s parka.

“Feeling okay?” Caspar asks softly, nosing into his hair and then deciding to fix it for him. Gentle as ever, he twists the mess into an uneven braid, so at least it won’t get even more tangled as he works. The smell of coffee always clings to Linhardt’s hair, like his personal brand of perfume. In reply, Linhardt sneezes into Caspar’s shoulder. “I fucking hate winter.” A pause. “It’s cold. I want to nap. And I’d happily never see another eggnog latte for as long as I live.” “Aw. C’mon, it’s not that bad, right?” Caspar asks hopefully. “You’re just being a drama queen because you have a cold?” “My blood is ninety percent honey citrus mint tea and cough syrup. And it’s not just a cold. I’m dying.” “Sure you are, babe. Sure you are.” Caspar kisses his head fondly. “You have half an hour and my undying attention. That makes things better. Right?”

When he doesn’t get a reply beyond the softest of snores, his heart melts and breaks and swells all at once. It’s the mark of someone being comfortable, when it only takes a moment for them to fall asleep in your arms or your lap. And it hurts to wake him, when their precious half-hour is up and he has to get back to work, red-eyed and disoriented. Petra takes pity on him, and sends him to do dishes.

If he takes the next day off, and spends it in bed watching Hallmark movies, with Caspar petting his hair and bringing him tea and toast and NyQuil, who is anyone to judge?

~~~

“A pink drink, Caspar? Really? I expected better from you.”

Nobody does disappointment quite like Ferdinand, nose wrinkled in disgust as he holds the cup at arm’s length. “I thought you were an adult.”

Caspar pouts and takes the cup for Caspie. He is going to kill Dorothea for that one, especially as he spots Linhardt’s smug smile. He’s been saving that one up ever since he overheard a tipsy conversation between them at Edelgard’s New Year’s party, one that involved Caspar “waxing positively lyrical”, apparently, about just how much he adores Linhardt. A drunk mind may speak sober thoughts, but drunk Caspar is a sap, and drunk Dorothea is a giggler who likes pet names.

He realises he hasn’t answered Ferdinand. “I am an adult. An adult who likes strawberries, and coconut, and uh, acai. Whatever that is.” “I like the pink drink!” Petra chirps, waving her own almost-empty cup. “And I like a man who is so sure of his masculinity that he isn’t afraid to drink something baby pink,” Linhardt adds between sips of what looks like an iced latte. Caspar narrows his eyes at him. “I thought you made a resolution to drink less caffeine this year. All it does is make you anxious, it doesn’t even keep you awake. You’re broken.” He sidles over to kiss Linhardt anyway. “It’s decaf!” his boyfriend protests. “No it’s not. Decaf lattes are lighter in colour.” “Fuck you, Ferdinand von Aegir.”

Caspar tugs at a lock of Linhardt’s hair where it’s come tumbling over his shoulder. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Lin. For your health. And perhaps a little for my own sanity because your caffeine crashes are fucking awful .” “I don’t have caffeine crashes. This stuff doesn’t even touch me,” Linhardt scoffs, then yelps and lunges for the cup that Caspar has snatched from under his nose. “Give it back!” “If it doesn’t affect you, why do you need it?” “I don’t need it, I…” Linhardt pouts. “I want it. My coffee. Please, Cas.” Ugh. Caspar is absolutely powerless when it comes to Linhardt’s pout and his kicked-puppy eyes and his whining. “Ugh. Fine. You’re hopeless.” “I’ll quit tomorrow?” Linhardt blinks at him, feigning innocence. “I really will?” “No, you won’t.” Caspar rolls his eyes. “I will! From tomorrow, no more caffeine.” “I dare you.”

To his credit, Linhardt lasts until just after lunchtime, head aching with the withdrawal. It takes falling asleep on a cafeteria bench before Caspar relents and drags him back to Starbucks on his day off. He orders a quad-shot espresso and drinks it without a pause, gazing intently at Caspar all the while.

“Never, ever take my coffee again.”

~~~

“Cas?”

Linhardt slips into the changing rooms long after all the other players have gone. He hates it in here, it smells like Axe and sweat and dirt, but Caspar didn’t show up in the stands with the others, so it falls to Linhardt to come and find his boyfriend. The game was close, but not close enough - getting knocked out of the running so close to the final was pretty brutal.

One of the showers is still running, and Linhardt stops in front of it, hand on his hip. “Caspar. I know you’re not still showering. Come out for me.” And then, softer, “Please?”

Caspar always takes the team’s losses as a personal loss. He relies too heavily on himself for the outcome of the games, the actions of his teammates. He may be a captain, but he likes to forget that he’s a human, too. “No. Go away.” “You aren’t made of sugar, as sweet as you are. You won’t dissolve under the hot water. And besides, it can’t still be hot.” “It’s f-fine…” The chatter of his teeth betrays him, and he turns off the water, the cold air of the locker room immediately assaulting his skin. His hair drips down his neck. Maybe this was a stupid thing to do. “Come out, Cas. Come on. It’s only me.”

The curtain twitches aside, and Caspar more or less tumbles right out, into the towel that Linhardt has already grabbed from his bag and proceeds to wrap tight around him. “That’s it. Well done.” Linhardt ignores how wet he is, and kisses his forehead. “You played beautifully. You always do.” “Not good enough,” Caspar sighs. “We suck. We got so close.” A bruise is blossoming across his cheekbone, and when he walks to where he left his clothes, the ankle that got twisted beneath a bad tackle leaves a slight limp in his step. He can feel Linhardt’s eyes on him, concerned, pitying, pained. “You don’t suck. You’ve worked so hard this season. You’ll get to the finals next year,” Linhardt tells him, far too much confidence in his voice, or so Caspar thinks. “Whatever.”

Caspar dresses quietly, and doesn’t complain when Linhardt pulls out his scarf, and gently winds it around his boyfriend’s neck, finishing the gesture with a kiss to his nose, then his lips. “You don’t have to comfort me,” he protests, but it’s weak. For once, he wants the comfort Linhardt always so willingly provides, so he lets his boyfriend zip up his jacket, and towel dry his damp hair even though, outside, he can hear that it’s beginning to rain. “I’m going to anyway,” Linhardt murmurs. “I always will.”

As soon as the fussing stops, Caspar buries himself in Linhardt’s chest, in his layers of wool and his vintage pea-coat, in his embrace. Linhardt holds him there, steadying him, until he’s ready to face the world.

“I brought you hot chocolate,” Linhardt remembers, when Caspar breaks the hug. “Although, it’s probably more like cold chocolate now.” A small smile flutters across Caspar’s face. “We can make more at your place?”

Some things in life are constant. Highs come with lows, wins come with losses. Linhardt comes with sweet hot drinks and the scent of freshly ground coffee in his curls. With icy hands, and holes in his sweater sleeves for his thumbs to poke through. With paper cups and heart-wrenching smiles, and most importantly? Linhardt comes with Caspar. Always.

[entamewitchlulu]

Ralph Meets the Disney Princes

commission for @princeasimdiya12!  Thank you for your commission and I hope you enjoy!

Commissions || Ko-fi

“Hey, Vanellope!  Geez, where’d ya go, anyway?  Vanellope — oh, sorry, sorry.”

Ralph ducks beneath something or someone zooming past him, and then wheels his arms as he stumbles backwards around another crowd.  The Internet’s crazy huge and crazy busy.  Getting to Vanellope is such a pain — and after all the work he did getting them the money for that steering wheel, she can’t even be bothered to pick up a call?  Now he’s gotta go all the way to that Disney fansite and see what’s up.

“‘Scuse me, comin’ through.  Sorry, sorry, yea, I know, I don’t fit, I don’t ever fit anywhere, ‘scuse me.”

He tries at the very least to be polite about the way he’s pushing through the crowds of people running from one website to the next, but he’s not totally sure if he’s succeeding.  Well, whatever.  He’ll apologize later, if he sees any of them ever again, that is.

Oh, there we go, there’s one of those doorways to the fansite.  He’ll just pop in real quick, see what’s holding up Vanellope, and get the two of them back to eBay before the auction ends.  Easy peasy.

He forces his way through the little data port — the feeling of getting popped from one website to the next is still pretty disconcerting, and when he pops out on the other side, he trips.  

His arms wheel wildly and he feels his wrists hit something, which goes flying away from him, before he goes face first into a rather scratchy carpet.  The impact is followed by a soft shattering sound that probably means whatever he hit just broke.  Oops.

A little yelp and a chorus of intaken breaths sounds all around him, and he groans, sitting up and rubbing his forehead.  He doesn’t even have a chance to process where he’s ended up, though, before there’s — oh.  Oh that’s a sword in his face.

“Whoa!!” he says, automatically smacking it away.  “Watch where you’re pointing that!”

The owner of the sword, a tallish, handsomish man (though Ralph feels a little miffed to acknowledge the handsome part, because honestly, this guy is that kinda boring, generic handsome that’s always annoyed Ralph) with fair skin and brownish hair wearing a fancy white and gold shirt stares open mouthed at him for a minute, and then looks down at his hand where the sword was.  His and Ralph’s eyes both move over to where the sword is now, which is embedded in a wall three feet away.  Oops again.  Ralph forgot his strength again. He hopes he doesn’t have to pay for that, too.

“Fiend!!” cries another voice behind him.  “What foul realms do you hail from?”

“Whoa, no need for that kinda language,” Ralph says, getting himself back to his feet and turning around.

There’s actually a lot of guys in this room, all in varying degrees of generic handsomeness.  He kinda feels like he might’ve seen ‘em around somewhere before, but he can’t put his finger on it.  Three of them have got swords of their own, there’s a muskt and an arrow drawn to a bow pointed at him, someone’s holding a frying pan in the air, two guys are holding a loaf of bread and a ukulele like they are swords, a guy in a puffy winter coat has his fists raised, and one of them is just some kinda giant furry...monster thing, and he’s growling at Ralph.

“Whoa, hey,” Ralph says, throwing up his hands — and smacking into a small coffee table on the way up, accidentally overturning it on its side.  “Sorry, I think I might have taken a wrong turn.  This the way to the Disney fansite?”

“This,” says one of the more genericly handsome guys, a tallish guy with swooped brown hair who’s holding a shield along with his sword, “is a prince-only zone, I’ll have you know.”

A small chorus of agreement sounds from the other guys rises up, along with a small thunk as the darker haired handsome guy behind Ralph pulls his sword back out of the wall.

Ohhh, wait.  Ralph knows where he is now, and why these guys look familiar.  He left Vanellope with the Disney princesses so these guys...these guys must be the princes.  Yeah, he remembers them now, from when he was looking in at the site before Vanellope went in.

“Right, you aren’t allowed to be in here,” says a tall, blond, white guy in some kinda armor.  Right, that one’s John Smith.

“Hey, now,” Ralph says, suddenly irritated.  “That’s kinda rude, don’t you think?  How do you know I’m not a prince just by looking at me?”

A long, uncertain silence meets the question.  A few of the princes look at each other and shrug, the guy with the sword and shield’s face slackens with total surprise, and Aladdin, the guy wielding the loaf of bread, starts nodding, as though Ralph’s said something really smart.  Aladdin nudges Kristoff beside him, who nods back.

“He’s got a point,” says Eugene, the one with a frying pan.

“Maybe we should give him a chance?” says Eric, lowering his sword.

The princes look at Ralph, and then at each other.  The swords all go down, and for a moment, all their heads turn in, making a huddle.  Ralph rolls his eyes, folding his arms.  He almost taps his foot, but the first time he does he puts a dent in the floor, so he stops.

The princes all turn back to him.  Phillip, the guy with the sword and the shield, now stowed away at his belt and on his back, folds his arms and gives Ralph a sharp nod.

“We’ll have to ask you a few questions,” he says.  “We have to be sure, you understand.”

“Sure, whatever, I don’t really have time for this,” Ralph starts.  “Do you guys know where —”

One of the princes grabs his arm and leans in, startling him out of his sentence.

“Is there a girl you’re trying to find?” asks Prince Charming.

“Oh, hey, yeah, actually there is —”

The...other Prince Charming — do they have names?  Is Ferdinand the other one? —  swoops in front of him, holding a glass shoe dramatically over his head.

“Do you have only a single token of the single night you saw her with which to find her by?”

Ralph blinks, mouth hanging open for a second.  Then he remembers the medal in his pocket.  Hey, maybe these guys can help him find Vanellope.  They’ve gotta know where the princesses are at, right?

“Well, I’ve known her for a lot longer than that, but yeah, I’ve got this —”

Eric slides up in front of him so fast that Ralph almost drops the medal.

“Are you heroic?” he asks.

“What?  Well, I dunno, I mean, I don’t like to brag, but I did totally —”

Ralph almost falls backwards from the princes all crowding him now with enthusiasm, and he trips, smacking back into something furry.  He manages to lurch forward and turn to see what he hit, only to find the Beast hanging over him with a decidedly unreadable face.

“Do you have anger issues?” the Beast growls at him.

Ralph gapes for a second.

“Oh, wow, yeah, actually, but ya know, I’ve been working on them recently and —”

“Have you had a near death experience?” John Smith calls over the commotion.

“Oh, gosh, yeah —”

“What about being cursed to turn into some kind of animal?” Naveen shouts from behind the Beast.  The Beast let out a growl of agreement.

“What?  Why the heck would I —”

“Ever had a reindeer friend?” asked Kristoff.

“What the heck does that have to do with —”

“Have you ever commanded an army?” Shang asks with a nudge of his elbow.

“Uh, define army —”

“Taken down an evil megalomaniac?” Aladdin asks.

“Oh, wow, yeah, and it was the worst —”

A clatter of other questions that Ralph doesn’t even hear crash around him like a wave.  Are they even listening to his answers?  He feels like he’s giving a lot of answers that they want to hear, but clearly they aren’t picking up on them.

“I’ll tell you how we know you’re a prince!” Phillip shouts over the commotion, and for just a second, the wave of questions pauses, and all eyes turn towards him.  “Any prince worth his salt can complete this task!”

“Gosh, guys, I really don’t have time to do tasks — ” Ralph tries.

“It’s only a simple test of skill!  Any prince is more than capable!” Phillip says.

“Oh, here we go again,” Eugene says with a roll of his eyes.

“Beast!! Open the gates!!”

Ralph stumbles back out of the way, knocking into the overturned coffee table once again as the Beast lumbers past him with a grunt.  Ralph’s about to try again to tell them how he’s on a timetable here when the Beast yanks on a lever.

Ralph’s mouth drops open when the whole wall falls away.  Instead of just another room, there’s a ridiculously huge cavern on the other side.  When Phillip snaps his fingers, the dark cavern alights with flames lighting up the obstacle course.

Ralph can’t even process the whole thing.  There are rings of fire, springboards, swinging ropes, axes swinging back and forth, massive chasms, a metal dragon head spewing fire at random intervals, arrows shooting out of walls, and spiked floors shooting up and down.  At the very top of the multi-layered obstacle course, is some kind of straw dummy that might be supposed to be a princess, judging by the poorly sewn pink fabric slung around it and the blonde wig on the top.

“What the heck is that?” Ralph gapes.

“It’s a proper prince training course, of course,” Phillip says.  “Watch — I’ll show you!”

“Uh, wait — ” Ralph starts while Phillip crouches down to stretch each leg, and then gets back up, crackling his knuckles.  Then he leaps forward.  Ralph tries to follow it, he really does, but he can’t stop flinching and gasping and covering his eyes every time Phillip dives through a fiery ring or ducks underneath a volley of arrows.  Somehow, Phillip makes it to the top.  He doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.  With a very princely sort of grin, he scoops the dummy princess under one arm, grabs a rope, and swings smoothly back to the start.  He smiles and bows to a smattering of applause, but it looks like most of the princes aren’t paying attention to him anymore.

“There,” Phillip says, only the faintest flush on his cheeks as he gently sets aside the princess dummy.  “Your turn.”

Ralph just gapes.  Ignoring the part where he doesn’t have time for this, there’s no way he’s gonna be able to do that.  Do they all really expect him to do that??  He looks over his shoulder at the rest of them.  

Shang nods approvingly, arms folded, and John is tapping his chin with a slow nod of his own.  The Prince Charmings both roll their eyes at each other, Ferdinand waving a hand as though they thought it was only a passable performance.  Naveen isn’t even paying attention anymore, humming to himself as he strums something on his ukelele while the Beast hunches over and listens.

“Well?  Aren’t you going to give it a go?” the Prince Charming who’s not Ferdinand says.  “If you want to prove you’re a prince and all.”

“Are you crazy??” Ralph said.  “What does this have to do with being a prince?  What does anything you guys just said have to do with being a prince?  Don’t you ever just, I dunno, relax?”

Everyone looks up at him.  A few of them look at each other.

Ralph jumps a little when someone claps him on the elbow, and he looks down to see Eugene grinning at him.

“Oh, I like you,” he said.  “Ignore the rest of them, really.  Especially Phillip.  He’s always like that.”

Eugene sends a pointed nod at Phillip, and Ralph looks over to see Phillip currently in the middle of posing dramatically with his sword and shield, flexing his arms while both Prince Charmings very obviously judge him.

“Anyway, besides, there’s really only one thing you gotta have to be a real prince,” Eugene says.

“Oh, geez, what now?” Ralph says.

Eugene just smiles and nudges him with his elbow.

“Well, a princess, obviously.  You got yourself one of those?”

“Oh!  Yeah, I do!!” Ralph breaks out into a grin.  “I’m looking for her right now!  Her name is Princess Vanellope and she’s my...she’s my best friend.”

He clutches the medal in his hand when he says this, suddenly wishing he hadn’t separated them for this adventure in the first place.  Eugene smiles.  He reaches up on tiptoe to pat Ralph on the shoulder.

“Well, there ya go.  You’re a prince.  What’s your name, anyway, kid?”

“Oh, right.  I’m Ralph.”

“Nice to meet you, Prince Ralph,” says Aladdin.  “Welcome to the squad!”

“Yeah!  Prince Ralph!  Prince Ralph!” Naveen shouts, punching the air a few times.

A whole chant overtakes the room, and almost all of the princes start chanting it along with Naveen.  Ralph blushes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, geez, guys, thanks,” he says.  “I’ve actually never been called a prince before.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here!” says Aladdin.

“Yeah, whenever you feel like joining the crazy crew,” Eugene says.  “Anyway, you said you were looking for someone, right?  Maui over there can show you the way to the princess side.”

“Oh, thanks, perfect!  Thanks, guys!”

“See ya, Prince Ralph!”

“Later!”

“So about that ‘relaxing’ thing....you need to do that, Phillip.”

“There is no time to relax when there are princesses to save and dragons to fight!”

“There aren’t any of those around here, dude.”

“Prince Ralph looked like he was ready to relax.  We should find some comfy clothes like his.”

“I’ll ask Genie if he’s got anything.”

Ralph chuckles as he leaves the chatter behind, making his way over to where Eugene pointed.

The guy laying on his side with his head on his hand while he pokes through a smart phone with the other is almost as big as Ralph is — actually, when he looks up and grins, Ralph feels surprisingly dwarfed.  Not a common feeling for him.  He’s not sure how he feels about it.

“Yo, newly minted Prince Ralph,” Maui says. “Looking for your friend?  She should still be through here on the princess side.”

Maui sits up on crossed legs and pulls back a curtain.  It looks perfectly dark inside, but it must be another data tunnel.  Ralph breathes a sigh of relief.  He still has plenty of time.

“Perfect, thank you!” Ralph says.

“You’re welcome,” Maui says with a wink.

But then Ralph hesitates just a second, one foot through the data tunnel as he looks back at Maui.

“Hey, just wondering...why weren’t you over there asking me all those weird questions too?”

Maui cocks an eyebrow at him and grins.

“Well, not to downplay your coronation or anything, Prince, but I’m not like the rest of ‘em,” Maui says.  “‘Prince’ is a little amateur when you’re already a demigod and all.”

“A what?”

“Better hop to it, princey, you’ve got yourself a princess waiting.  And don’t try singing, okay?  I deal with enough from the rest of them.”

And before Ralph can say anything word, Maui’s given him a rather solid tap with his big fish hook, and shoved Ralph forward.  With a yelp, Prince Ralph falls face first into the darkness, and zips off on his way to find Princess Vanellope.

[cielizzydefencesquad]

Can you do Soma X Elizabeth? I'll like to see it since I think they can be a cute couple

Soma x Lizzy? The sweetest and purest of all couples on this planet? My heaaaart. Thank you so much for requesting this @theplaytheroist and @saemi-the-dreamer

Who is more likely to catch a cold? My precious baby Soma. But around Lizzy he doesn’t want to complain or be seen as weak and wimpy so he tries to avoid her whenever he’s ill but Lizzy—our darling bundle of sunshine—won’t let the person she loves suffer all by his lonesome (and Agni knows Lizzy will be coming over so he excuses himself for the next few hours).

She and Agni prepare risotto, pumpkin soup, and hot mulled wine.

Soma’s so touched he won’t let go of Lizzy’s hand, even as she laughs and says it’ll be harder to feed him with one hand. Soma’s reply? “That’s even better! That means you can stay here longer! I don’t—I don’t want you to leave yet.” And in a quieter voice he confesses, “I don’t want you to leave at all.” 

Who hogs the blankets? Soma XD he still hasn’t adjusted to English weather so he requires at least 3 coverlets, a cashmere blanket, and maybe an extra duvet. Lizzy, whose blood runs hot, just ends up shifting all the blankets to Soma so she can sleep without sweating.

“Aww you look so cute!” Lizzy giggled. “All cocooned up—look at your cheeks! You’re like an adorable, darling bunny!”

Soma blushed and shyly came to grasp her hand, fingers intertwining. “Are you sure you aren’t cold?” 

Lizzy shook her head. “I’m a Midford. We’re hotblooded by nature. Mother says that’s where the brazenness comes from.”

“Brazenness?” Soma rolled over. “Well if you want to be extra brazen then come here!” He held open his arms, eyes bright. “Let me give you a kiss!”

Who kills all the flowers? Soma XD he and Lizzy have a little garden all of their own at their estate, Sita Lotus (named after the Hindu goddess Sita, the daughter of mother earth and a representation of feminine power and virtue) where they cultivate lotus blossoms and basil (considered one of the most sacred plants in Hinduism).

Who eats all the candy before Halloween? Soma—it gets even worse after Edward, following his tour of North America, brings back a barrel of pure Vermont maple syrup that Agni uses to flavor his caramels. Needless to say, Lizzy had to start setting caramel limits to keep Soma from cleaning out the whole pantry.

Who takes the longest showers? Neither—they take bubble baths together. (Although it took quite a bit of coaxing on Soma’s part to get Lizzy to agree to something so…so…scandalously indecent.)

“It’s just like cuddling in bed!”

“It is not!” Lizzy protested, cheeks bright pink. “We…we would be nude in the bath, Soma—!”

“Well, you don’t bathe with your clothes on do you?”

“No, but—“

Soma wrapped his arms around her, surrounding Lizzy with the scent of roses and spicy cinnamon. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to but I really think you English folk are in need of some fun. How do you stand these stuffy summers all bundled up like that?”

Lizzy blushed. “We don’t move very much.” She paused. “We’re quite devoted to sitting.” 

Soma laughed, pressing half a dozen kisses to her forehead in delight. 

Who goes to bed at 5am but wakes up at 8am? Neither. Soma can sleep through the apocalypse.

Who makes sure the other has a healthy breakfast? Soma. He has Agni grow mangos and persimmons in their glass gardens so as to give Lizzy a taste of eastern fruit.

What pets do they have? Soma’s elephant (that they’ve named Persimmon because Lizzy’s become addicted to the fruit), a baby chick named Theodore (who’s besties with Phipp’s chicken, Cecily), three King Charles Spaniels (Ferdinand, Isabella, and Philip), a Bengali tiger named Oberon, and a white crane named Horatio.

Wedding

Who proposes? Soma does! … with an elephant parade, flower floats, fireworks, dancing gypsies, music, trumpets, and gold. A LOT of gold. (Basically the whole Elizabeth Taylor sequence from 1963’s Cleopatra XD)

During this parade Soma and Lizzy sit side by side on Persimmon while everyone (and I mean, like, 90% of high society) watch in awe (and envy) before Soma gets down on one knee and proposes with a diamond the size of a tangerine.

“Soma this is beautiful but I don’t think I’m going to be able to wear this on a daily basis.”

“As my princess, you’ll never have to lift a finger! I’ll shower you in precious jewels and Venetian silks and the love of a million shining suns!” 

“Soma—“

“Behold!” Down below four footmen dressed in identical uniforms of crimson brocade appeared carrying a wide, spherical sedan chair with a pink lotus carved on top. “Your feet shall never tire, your gowns never dirty, and I will—“

His speech, already beginning to reach a fever pitch, was halted when Lizzy pressed her lips against his.

And suddenly, Soma decided, elephants and gold glitter and trumping fanfares weren’t nearly as important as his princess’s sweet lips. 

Who actually enjoyed the planning? They both did XD in an extravagant mix of Indian and English culture to craft a wedding so pricey that it cost more than three times the prince of Wales’ parliamentary allowance.

When Soma was told of the tab, he merely smiled. “Why, that isn’t nearly as bad as my elder brother’s wedding! You don’t know how hard of it time it was to find a solid gold carriage! The entire thing was so heavy we needed sixteen white Arabian stallions to pull it! Father was quite amused.”

Would their wedding be small or grand? Grand. Just…luxurious, ostentatious, expensive, theatrical. Soma and Lizzy were married at their estate, Sita Lotus. The guest list included the English 400 (the 400 most elite blue blooded aristocrats and businessmen), Soma’s various relatives and siblings (which made up the other 300), the Phantomhive, Midford, Grey, Phipps, and Trancy heads were also in attendance.

Elizabeth’s wedding sari was of crimson silk with hand embroidered patterns of flaming phoenixes, rising suns, and hummingbirds in flight. Her gorgeous blonde hair (now grown to fall at her waist) was left loose, intertwined with lotus flowers, while a crown of gold and emeralds sat atop her head.

When Ciel saw her, he commented, “It wouldn’t surprise me if Elizabeth’s very gown and jewels surpassed the cost of the royal treasury.”

Which guest was happiest to see them get married? Agni. And Edward. And Ciel. And Finny. And Frances. And Alexis. And Paula. And Sieglinde. And—well, you get the picture XD

Children

How many children would they have? Soma hails from a large family and Lizzy absolutely adores children so most likely six at the very least.

Would they adopt or have them naturally? Naturally!

Who is the strictest parent? Lizzy. She teaches her children the value of hard work, discipline, respect for other people no matter commoner or noble, and to always devote themselves to goals they truly want to reach.

Are their children in homeschool or public school? Initially homeschooled by Agni until they’re old enough to attend Weston.

(Lizzy says no, Soma love, they all can’t arrive riding on elephants and tigers.)

Who is the favorite parent? Oh they (and Agni) are adored beyond reason by the children, who—while they may not always agree with their parents—still value and respect their judgment.

Who checks on the kids in the middle of the night? Agni! He has no wish for his prince or princess to arise after they’ve spent all day chasing after children, managing the estate, and the various businesses Soma owns around the world. (Including banks in Germany, paper mills in Finland, coffee plantations in South America, various estate managing companies, global investments, huge shares in North American canned goods—mainly maple syrup, landowning, and three publishing companies.)

(When his cousin-in-law Ciel expressed surprise at Soma’s vast business portfolio, he replied: “Mine? Honestly it’s quite a pittance compared to that of my siblings.” —> Which then caused Ciel to wonder: just how wealthy was the Kadar family anyway?)

Who decorated the nursery? Lizzy and Soma together! Gold patterned walls, wide airy windows, arched marble pillars in gem pink, white marble floors, cradles made of hand carved satinwood and painted gold, the latest toys from Funtom, and personalized Bitter Bunnies for each of their six children.

[antonioebangelista]

LIBEL

is the only tune that the bewildered EVM Administration knows how to sing. And frankly speaking, they are the only ones who don’t realize that THEY ARE EXCRUCIATINGLY OUT OF TUNE!

It makes me wonder if they even bothered to look up its meaning because it can very well be found in many Iglesia Ni Cristo sponsored pages all over the World Wide Web!

Yes, sadly, Libel, which is any Defamation can be seen along with the words “Proud to be INC” written, posted, printed, in effigies, filmed and broadcasted in these Iglesia Ni Cristo social media pages. Not only that- Ministers, officers and official spokespersons are now encouraged to Slander those who pose as threats to the Administration they adore!

Slander, also defined as any defamation that is spoken and heard easily springs out from the mouths of this One With EVM fanatics. Now that you know the difference between the two, it helps to remember that both Libel and slander are collectively known as defamation, that can harm a reputation, ruin confidence or regard; reduce respect; or induct negative public perceptions or hostile feelings against an individual or entity.  Simply put, libel and slander are civil wrongdoings that cause injury to one’s good name through written and spoken words or visual images. Remember these?

How hypocritical! But having the money to sustain these propaganda in their own media outlets, the same money used to file these Libel cases against their most vocal critics, do not, in any way, guarantee their success in court. And not having abundant resources as they have, do not in any way, predicate that their critics (which are the true victims of suppression of free speech) are not telling the TRUTH. And, that has become their “S.U.P.” (SUCK UP PROTOCOL) in an effort to defend the once good name of the church. Suppress, oppress by persecution, and prosecute with Libel cases to SILENCE them and to keep EVM smiling is the ultimate goal. This is the new Staple Food they serve on the table to their unwelcomed guests- Libel Cases with everything including the kitchen sink. Remember these cases hurled against our fellow defenders of the True Church of Christ?

Samson case

http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/711769/expelled-inc-minister-hires-2-lawyers-for-defense-in-libel-case

http://www.rappler.com/nation/106102-iglesia-ni-cristo-isaias-samson-libel-preliminary-investigation

Canono Case

Fruto Case

Yuson Case

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jh0XrfabOdg

  Rosal Case

http://2016.mb.com.ph/2016/02/23/libel-cases-filed-by-inc-vs-former-ministers-junked/#yjRruYYIFLJ3qltm.01

Villocino (Et. Al) Case

Tulfo Case

  Many decided to join the bandwagon of libel suit-filing-spree from the Eduardo V. Manalo church like Resty Lazaro, GP Santos, Zeromsky Pineda, Allen Blair Boy, Wilfredo “Pink” Santos, Serafin Cuevas, Moises Tolentino and Ferdinand Topacio just to name a few. Just recently, Restituto Lazaro has been making waves visiting the District of Southern California to illegally advice (or rather coerce) unscrupulous members (just like him) to file trumped up charges against some of their critics known to be the biggest thorn on their side. But we will feature Resty Lazaro when the right time comes. Everyone knows that he has no license to practice law in the United States. For now, no one stands out in prominence, well, more like a sore thumb, other than the most promising lawyer/minister of the Church in the United States, THE Rommel San Pedro (pronounced as San PAIDro), or “RSP.”

To make sense of his utterly nonsense attempt to suppress Freedom of Speech, especially if it is the truth, please revisit the previous articles that prelude this one:

Published: September 14, 2016 https://incsilentnomore.com/2016/09/14/featuring-o-w-e-rommel-v-san-pedros-3rd-humiliating-defeat-in-u-s-courts/

Published: January 26, 2017 https://incsilentnomore.com/2017/01/26/featuring-o-w-e-rommel-v-san-pedros-4th-humiliating-defeat-in-u-s-courts/

On May 22, 2017, Rommel San Pedro wrote a letter to WordPress. WHAT!!!??? After 8 long months since I first published his humiliating defeat in the U.S. Courts, he decides to file for Libel! Gosh, how SLOW can you go!

Here’s what RSP had to say to WordPress. Read on…

Please feel free to email or text him to let him know how he is doing at his job. I didn’t know that Rommel San Pedro had any reputation to protect since he has never amounted to anything in terms of jurisprudence, much less as a Minister. I was hoping that he would have something to look forward to or hope for, yet the only prominence he ever gained was when he was appointed as the pathetic attack dog of Eduardo V. Manalo’s Administration. And the only attention he even remotely got was due to his embarrassing blunders and epic fails. Not to mention the tactless gung ho engagement of his mother as a spiritual warrior to defend her bear cub against anyone who criticizes his imbecility. Clearly, we can now see that the rotten apple does not fall far from the tree.

But what does this all prove? That the Administration of Eduardo V. Manalo is “pikon” (sore loser)! That they have all the money to spend, all the time and effort to exhaust, and many blind followers to use in filing all those “copy-paste” libel suits. That they are a force to be reckoned with, and a powerful organization to be feared. But does the filing of libel suits truly dignify or vindicate the current church condition of disarray?

The truth of the matter is, there is nothing dignifying about using a loophole in the justice system (especially in the Philippines) for the sole purpose of vindictive censorship, persecution, and oppression. Yet, it is being abused by the rich, influential and powerful to silence their critics even outside the Philippines.

“A broadly drawn criminal-defamation law is a weapon that can be wielded, not just by the government, but by anyone thin-skinned who has enough money to hire a lawyer.”

~ https://www.economist.com/news/international/21724993-some-countries-insulting-politicians-can-lead-jail-how-powerful-people-use

And in the Philippines, where libel suits are a dime a dozen, the “thinking Filipinos” and the General Public know this INC tactic all too well.

“The filing of libel cases in different parts of the country, for instance, is an ancient art. On the assumption that an allegedly libelous statement is carried in a newspaper of national circulation or on a television newscast with viewers from across the country or on a website with nationwide reach, a person or organization (or religion) of means can file a libel case anywhere in the archipelago. This loophole in the law has been exploited many times, to harass an enemy, or wear down his defenses, or drain his finances.

Journalists are all too familiar with this legal tactic, and it does not bode well at all for Menorca. Those who resort to it are not interested in vindicating their reputation, but in spreading intimidation. A libel case in Lanao del Norte against someone who lives in Quezon City is not legal redress, but pure retaliation. And, like clockwork, a second libel case surfaced the day after Menorca’s arrest—this time from the Regional Trial Court of Lanao del Sur.

Use of Law Enforcement Agencies and the Court of Law to Subvert the Ends of Justice – The Menorca Case

Do we need any more proof that an orchestrated campaign is being waged against Menorca? We can simply consider the evidence already at hand. A mysterious disappearance, after an internal INC crisis erupted in public. One libel suit after another, filed by Iglesia members. The handing over of one arrest warrant from one INC member to another, a ranking police officer. Followed by the next-day arrest of a man who was supposed to be hiding his tracks well. Circumstantial, yes, but convincing.”

http://opinion.inquirer.net/92236/the-iglesias-long-arm#ixzz49f6rTWR5

So before we end this article, let us just ponder on something simple yet ultimately profound… During the time of Bro. Felix Y. Manalo, the Church of Christ was just starting in the Philippines, it faced gigantic and powerful religions that persecuted it, how many libel suits did Bro. Felix file against the church’s detractors? During the time of Bro. Eraño and his 46 years of dynamic stewardship of the Church, how many detractors spoke against him and the Church of Christ? One thing that Bro. Felix and Bro. Eraño Manalo have in common is that they stood on the TRUTH for God was with them and the Church. They did not even need to retaliate against those who spoke against the INC. The only time the Church filed libel cases in my knowledge was during the time of the ADD Preacher Eli Soriano, which was spearheaded by the Legal Head then, Minister Restituto Lazaro. I can also attest that “some” of those were known to Bro. Erdy, but “most” were also deliberately hidden from his knowledge. But even those cannot compare to the magnitude of spiritual instability and insecurity of Eduardo V. Manalo and his whole corrupted Administration. Why? Because they are standing, not on the TRUTH, but on a flimsy web of lies and deceit. That is why they have a NEED to SILENCE those who are exposing their anomalies and corruption at any cost.

If this current Church Administration of Eduardo V. Manalo does not have anything to hide, no Billion Pesos Bank Loans, no Secret Business Corporations, no secret lavish properties and lifestyle, no covert mafia-like abductions and kidnappings of their enemies, no skeletons of smuggling, racketeering and murders in their closet, why even try to censor free speech? The answer is glaringly simple… BECAUSE THE TRUTH CONTRADICTS THE LIES THAT THEY WEAVE. CORRUPTION, UNDENIABLY, EXISTS IN THIS ADMINISTRATION.

So as a simple piece of advice to this fanatic Minister Rommel San Pedro… You can file as many libel suits as you can, along with all the well-paid lawyers of the church roster. After all, it was you who stated this to your former colleagues who are undoubtedly more principled than you- “that you will exhaust any amount from the church coffers and every effort in your bones to sue the shirt off the back of anyone who will speak the truth about the corruption in the church”. Sadly, you have not learned that YOU CAN NEVER SILENCE THE TRUTH. That knowledge obviously does not come from attaining a Library card even from Harvard! So the next time you feel hurt or your ego is bruised due to your exposed incompetence, or before you cry out like a baby, try to read the critiques of this award winning writer-lawyer David Lat on [http://abovethelaw.com/author/david-lat/]

His outspoken articles and blunt commentaries will make you shrink in embarrassment compared to my candid and witty comments about you. How thin-skinned you are! If the likes of these top-notch lawyers and critics were to evaluate your performance as a lawyer along with your legal and ethical malpractices, their ingenious opinions may just make you want to disappear from the face of the earth. But the other lawyers, law firms, and even judges don’t seem to mind his striking and humorous write ups, because unlike you… the rest of them are not IMMATURE AND INSECURE.

Now, go and practice your “menacing-look” of intimidation to convince WordPress to give you my information.

I suggest you try a different look that would suit you more. Maybe this will make you more believable than laughable.

Unlike the Philippine Media and Agencies, WordPress.com does take Freedom of Speech seriously. So the minute you are able to supersede the basic Human Right to Freedom of Speech, I will be ready to see you in court. Until then, best of luck to you and more power to your ever protective mama bear!

~ Antonio Ramirez Ebangelista

  “They tried to bury us…they didn’t know we were seeds.”

“Unlike you, I don’t have power or money, but what I do have is a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career.  Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.  If you tell the truth now, that’ll be the end of it.  I will not look for you, I will not pursue you.  But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will expose you.” – A.E.

Philippine Daily Inquirer Article: “Antonio Ebangelista writes Philippine Daily Inquirer, Warns Iglesia Elders”

Question adn Answer: Q & A with Antonio Ebangelista

The CHOICE is always UP TO YOU : “The Red Pill. The Blue Pill”

Contact Information:

Official Email: AntonioRamirezEbangelista@gmail.com

Official Blog: http://www.incsilentnomore.com

Official Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/WeAreTheSeedsSilentNoMore/

Official Facebook Account:https://www.facebook.com/antonio.ebangelista.77

Official Instagram: @antonioramirezebangelista

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      Libel Lawsuits: An attempt by the Iglesia Ni Cristo to suppress Freedom of Speech in the Philippines and in the USA LIBEL is the only tune that the bewildered EVM Administration knows how to sing. And frankly speaking, they are the only ones who don't realize that THEY ARE EXCRUCIATINGLY OUT OF TUNE!