#good news is that we found a good place to live right near the library and pool with a lot of space + is very pretty

[mielnah]

ok i decided that for my first year of college im going to live in the dorms and then if i don't like it/cant afford it im going to move back home either after 1st semester or 1st year

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Wise Pair of Fools: A Retelling of “The Farmer’s Clever Daughter”

For the Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge at @inklings-challenge.

Faith

I wish you could have known my husband when he was a young man. How you would have laughed at him! He was so wonderfully pompous—oh, you’d have no idea unless you’d seen him then. He’s weathered beautifully, but back then, his beauty was bright and new, all bronze and ebony. He tried to pretend he didn’t care for personal appearances, but you could tell he felt his beauty. How could a man not be proud when he looked like one of creation’s freshly polished masterpieces every time he stepped out among his dirty, sweaty peasantry?

But his pride in his face was nothing compared to the pride he felt over his mind. He was clever, even then, and he knew it. He’d grown up with an army of nursemaids to exclaim, “What a clever boy!” over every mildly witty observation he made. He’d been tutored by some of the greatest scholars on the continent, attended the great universities, traveled further than most people think the world extends. He could converse like a native in fifteen living languages and at least three dead ones.

And books! Never a man like him for reading! His library was nothing to what it is now, of course, but he was making a heroic start. Always a book in his hand, written by some dusty old man who never said in plain language what he could dress up in words that brought four times the work to some lucky printer. Every second breath he took came out as a quotation. It fairly baffled his poor servants—I’m certain to this day some of them assume Plato and Socrates were college friends of his.

Well, at any rate, take a man like that—beautiful and over-educated—and make him king over an entire nation—however small—before he turns twenty-five, and you’ve united all earthly blessings into one impossibly arrogant being.

Unfortunately, Alistair’s pomposity didn’t keep him properly aloof in his palace. He’d picked up an idea from one of his old books that he should be like one of the judge-kings of old, walking out among his people to pass judgment on their problems, giving the inferior masses the benefit of all his twenty-four years of wisdom. It’s all right to have a royal patron, but he was so patronizing. Just as if we were all children and he was our benevolent father. It wasn’t strange to see him walking through the markets or looking over the fields—he always managed to look like he floated a step or two above the common ground the rest of us walked on—and we heard stories upon stories of his judgments. He was decisive, opinionated. Always thought he had a better way of doing things. Was always thinking two and ten and twelve steps ahead until a poor man’s head would be spinning from all the ways the king found to see through him. Half the time, I wasn’t sure whether to fear the man or laugh at him. I usually laughed.

So then you can see how the story of the mortar—what do you mean you’ve never heard it? You could hear it ten times a night in any tavern in the country. I tell it myself at least once a week! Everyone in the palace is sick to death of it!

Oh, this is going to be a treat! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a fresh audience?

It happened like this. It was spring of the year I turned twenty-one. Father plowed up a field that had lain fallow for some years, with some new-fangled deep-cutting plow that our book-learned king had inflicted upon a peasantry that was baffled by his scientific talk. Father was plowing near a river when he uncovered a mortar made of solid gold. You know, a mortar—the thing with the pestle, for grinding things up. Don’t ask me why on earth a goldsmith would make such a thing—the world’s full of men with too much money and not enough sense, and housefuls of servants willing to take too-valuable trinkets off their hands. Someone decades ago had swiped this one and apparently found my father’s farm so good a hiding place that they forgot to come back for it.

Anyhow, my father, like the good tenant he was, understood that as he’d found a treasure on the king’s land, the right thing to do was to give it to the king. He was all aglow with his noble purpose, ready to rush to the palace at first light to do his duty by his liege lord.

I hope you can see the flaw in his plan. A man like Alistair, certain of his own cleverness, careful never to be outwitted by his peasantry? Come to a man like that with a solid gold mortar, and his first question’s going to be…?

That’s right. “Where’s the pestle?”

I tried to tell Father as much, but he—dear, sweet, innocent man—saw only his simple duty and went forth to fulfill it. He trotted into the king’s throne room—it was his public day—all smiles and eagerness.

Alistair took one look at him and saw a peasant tickled to death that he was pulling a fast one on the king—giving up half the king’s rightful treasure in the hopes of keeping the other half and getting a fat reward besides.

Alistair tore into my father—his tongue was much sharper then—taking his argument to pieces until Father half-believed he had hidden away the pestle somewhere, probably after stealing both pieces himself. In his confusion, Father looked even guiltier, and Alistair ordered his guard to drag Father off to the dungeons until they could arrange a proper hearing—and, inevitably, a hanging.

As they dragged him to his doom, my father had the good sense to say one coherent phrase, loud enough for the entire palace to hear. “If only I had listened to my daughter!”

Alistair, for all his brains, hadn’t expected him to say something like that. He had Father brought before him, and questioned him until he learned the whole story of how I’d urged Father to bury the mortar again and not say a word about it, so as to prevent this very scene from occurring.

About five minutes after that, I knocked over a butter churn when four soldiers burst into my father’s farmhouse and demanded I go with them to the castle. I made them clean up the mess, then put on my best dress and did up my hair—in those days, it was thick and golden, and fell to my ankles when unbound—and after traveling to the castle, I went, trembling, up the aisle of the throne room.

Alistair had made an effort that morning to look extra handsome and extra kingly. He still has robes like those, all purple and gold, but the way they set off his black hair and sharp cheekbones that day—I’ve never seen anything like it. He looked half-divine, the spirit of judgment in human form. At the moment, I didn’t feel like laughing at him.

Looming on his throne, he asked me, “Is it true that you advised this man to hide the king’s rightful property from him?” (Alistair hates it when I imitate his voice—but isn’t it a good impression?)

I said yes, it was true, and Alistair asked me why I’d done such a thing, and I said I had known this disaster would result, and he asked how I knew, and I said (and I think it’s quite good), that this is what happens when you have a king who’s too clever to be anything but stupid.

Naturally, Alistair didn’t like that answer a bit, but I’d gotten on a roll, and it was my turn to give him a good tongue-lashing. What kind of king did he think he was, who could look at a man as sweet and honest as my father and suspect him of a crime? Alistair was so busy trying to see hidden lies that he couldn’t see the truth in front of his face. So determined not to be made a fool of that he was making himself into one. If he persisted in suspecting everyone who tried to do him a good turn, no one would be willing to do much of anything for him. And so on and so forth.

You might be surprised at my boldness, but I had come into that room not expecting to leave it without a rope around my neck, so I intended to speak my mind while I had the chance. The strangest thing was that Alistair listened, and as he listened, he lost some of that righteous arrogance until he looked almost human. And the end of it all was that he apologized to me!

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather at that! I didn’t faint, but I came darn close. That arrogant, determined young king, admitting to a simple farmer’s daughter that he’d been wrong?

He did more than admit it—he made amends. He let Father keep the mortar, and then bought it from him at its full value. Then he gifted Father the farm where we lived, making us outright landowners. After the close of the day��s hearings, he even invited us to supper with him, and I found that King Alistair wasn’t a half-bad conversational partner. Some of those books he read sounded almost interesting.

For a year after that, Alistair kept finding excuses to come by the farm. He would check on Father’s progress and baffle him with advice. We ran into each other in the street so often that I began to expect it wasn’t mere chance. We’d talk books, and farming, and sharpen our wits on each other. We’d do wordplay, puzzles, tongue-twisters. A game, but somehow, I always thought, some strange sort of test.

Would you believe, even his proposal was a riddle? Yes, an actual riddle! One spring morning, I came across Alistair on a corner of my father's land, and he got down on one knee, confessed his love for me, and set me a riddle. He had the audacity to look into the face of the woman he loved—me!—and tell me that if I wanted to accept his proposal, I would come to him at his palace, not walking and not riding, not naked and not dressed, not on the road and not off it.

Do you know, I think he actually intended to stump me with it? For all his claim to love me, he looked forward to baffling me! He looked so sure of himself—as if all his book-learning couldn’t be beat by just a bit of common sense.

If I’d really been smart, I suppose I’d have run in the other direction, but, oh, I wanted to beat him so badly. I spent about half a minute solving the riddle and then went off to make my preparations.

The next morning, I came to the castle just like he asked. Neither walking nor riding—I tied myself to the old farm mule and let him half-drag me. Neither on the road nor off it—only one foot dragging in a wheel rut at the end. Neither naked nor dressed—merely wrapped in a fishing net. Oh, don’t look so shocked! There was so much rope around me that you could see less skin than I’m showing now.

If I’d hoped to disappoint Alistair, well, I was disappointed. He radiated joy. I’d never seen him truly smile before that moment—it was incandescent delight. He swept me in his arms, gave me a kiss without a hint of calculation in it, then had me taken off to be properly dressed, and we were married within a week.

It was a wonderful marriage. We got along beautifully—at least until the next time I outwitted him. But I won’t bore you with that story again—

You don’t know that one either? Where have you been hiding yourself?

Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that one. Not if it’s your first time. It’s much better the way Alistair tells it.

What time is it?

Perfect! He’s in his library just now. Go there and ask him to tell you the whole thing.

Yes, right now! What are you waiting for?

Alistair

Faith told you all that, did she? And sent you to me for the rest? That woman! It’s just like her! She thinks I have nothing better to do than sit around all day and gossip about our courtship!

Where are you going? I never said I wouldn’t tell the story! Honestly, does no one have brains these days? Sit down!

Yes, yes, anywhere you like. One chair’s as good as another—I built this room for comfort. Do you take tea? I can ring for a tray—the story tends to run long.

Well, I’ll ring for the usual, and you can help yourself to whatever you like.

I’m sure Faith has given you a colorful picture of what I was like as a young man, and she’s not totally inaccurate. I’d had wealth and power and too much education thrown on me far too young, and I thought my blessings made me better than other men. My own father had been the type of man who could be fooled by every silver-tongued charlatan in the land, so I was sensitive and suspicious, determined to never let another man outwit me.

When Faith came to her father’s defense, it was like my entire self came crumbling down. Suddenly, I wasn’t the wise king; I was a cruel and foolish boy—but Faith made me want to be better. That day was the start of my fascination with her, and my courtship started in earnest not long after.

The riddle? Yes, I can see how that would be confusing. Faith tends to skip over the explanations there. A riddle’s an odd proposal, but I thought it was brilliant at the time, and I still think it wasn’t totally wrong-headed. I wasn’t just finding a wife, you see, but a queen. Riddles have a long history in royal courtships. I spent weeks laboring over mine. I had some idea of a symbolic proposal—each element indicating how she’d straddle two worlds to be with me. But more than that, I wanted to see if Faith could move beyond binary thinking—look beyond two opposites to see the third option between. Kings and queens have to do that more often than you’d think…

No, I’m sorry, it is a bit dull, isn’t it? I guess there’s a reason Faith skips over the explanations.

So to return to the point: no matter what Faith tells you, I always intended for her to solve the riddle. I wouldn’t have married her if she hadn’t—but I wouldn’t have asked if I’d had the least doubt she’d succeed. The moment she came up that road was the most ridiculous spectacle you’d ever hope to see, but I had never known such ecstasy. She’d solved every piece of my riddle, in just the way I’d intended. She understood my mind and gained my heart. Oh, it was glorious.

Those first weeks of marriage were glorious, too. You’d think it’d be an adjustment, turning a farmer’s daughter into a queen, but it was like Faith had been born to the role. Manners are just a set of rules, and Faith has a sharp mind for memorization, and it’s not as though we’re a large kingdom or a very formal court. She had a good mind for politics, and was always willing to listen and learn. I was immensely proud of myself for finding and catching the perfect wife.

You’re smarter than I was—you can see where I was going wrong. But back then, I didn’t see a cloud in the sky of our perfect happiness until the storm struck.

It seemed like such a small thing at the time. I was looking over the fields of some nearby villages—farming innovations were my chief interest at the time. There were so many fascinating developments in those days. I’ve an entire shelf full of texts if you’re interested—

The story, yes. My apologies. The offer still stands.

Anyway, I was out in the fields, and it was well past the midday hour. I was starving, and more than a little overheated, so we were on our way to a local inn for a bit of food and rest. Just as I was at my most irritable, these farmers’ wives show up, shrilly demanding judgment in a case of theirs. I’d become known for making those on-the-spot decisions. I’d thought it was an efficient use of government resources—as long as I was out with the people, I could save them the trouble of complicated procedures with the courts—but I’d never regretted taking up the practice as heartily as I did in this moment.

The case was like this: one farmer’s horse had recently given birth, and the foal had wandered away from its mother and onto the neighbor’s property, where it laid down underneath an ox that was at pasture, and the second farmer thought this gave him a right to keep it. There were questions of fences and boundaries and who-owed-who for different trades going back at least a couple of decades—those women were determined to bring every past grievance to light in settling this case.

Well, it didn’t take long for me to lose what little patience I had. I snapped at both women and told them that my decision was that the foal could very well stay where it was.

Not my most reasoned decision, but it wasn’t totally baseless. I had common law going back centuries that supported such a ruling. Possession is nine-tenths of the law and all. It wasn't as though a single foal was worth so much fuss. I went off to my meal and thought that was the end of it.

I’d forgotten all about it by the time I returned to the same village the next week. My man and I were crossing the bridge leading into the town when we found the road covered by a fishing net. An old man sat by the side of the road, shaking and casting the net just as if he were laying it out for a catch.

“What do you think you’re doing, obstructing a public road like this?” I asked him.

The man smiled genially at me and replied, “Fishing, majesty.”

I thought perhaps the man had a touch of sunstroke, so I was really rather kind when I explained to him how impossible it was to catch fish in the roadway.

The man just replied, “It’s no more impossible than an ox giving birth to a foal, majesty.”

He said it like he’d been coached, and it didn’t take long for me to learn that my wife was behind it all. The farmer’s wife who’d lost the foal had come to Faith for help, and my wife had advised the farmer to make the scene I’d described.

Oh, was I livid! Instead of coming to me in private to discuss her concerns about the ruling, Faith had made a public spectacle of me. She encouraged my own subjects to mock me! This was what came of making a farm girl into a queen! She’d live in my house and wear my jewels, and all the time she was laughing up her sleeve at me while she incited my citizens to insurrection! Before long, none of my subjects would respect me. I’d lose my crown, and the kingdom would fall to pieces—

I worked myself into a fine frenzy, thinking such things. At the time, I thought myself perfectly reasonable. I had identified a threat to the kingdom’s stability, and I would deal with it. The moment I came home, I found Faith and declared that the marriage was dissolved. “If you prefer to side with the farmers against your own husband,” I told her, “you can go back to your father’s house and live with them!”

It was quite the tantrum. I’m proud to say I’ve never done anything so shameful since.

To my surprise, Faith took it all silently. None of the fire that she showed in defending her father against me. Faith had this way, back then, where she could look at a man and make him feel like an utter fool. At that moment, she made me feel like a monster. I was already beginning to regret what I was doing, but it was buried under so much anger that I barely realized it, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to back down so easily from another decision.

After I said my piece, Faith quietly asked if she was to leave the palace with nothing.

I couldn’t reverse what I’d decided, but I could soften it a bit.

“You may take one keepsake,” I told her. “Take the one thing you love best from our chambers.”

I thought I was clever to make the stipulation. Knowing Faith, she’d have found some way to move the entire palace and count it as a single item. I had no doubt she’d take the most expensive and inconvenient thing she could, but there was nothing in that set of rooms I couldn’t afford to lose.

Or so I thought. No doubt you’re beginning to see that Faith always gets the upper hand in a battle of wits.

I kept my distance that evening—let myself stew in resentment so I couldn’t regret what I’d done. I kept to my library—not this one, the little one upstairs in our suite—trying to distract myself with all manner of books, and getting frustrated when I found I wanted to share pieces of them with Faith. I was downright relieved when a maid came by with a tea tray. I drank my usual three cups so quickly I barely tasted them—and I passed out atop my desk five minutes later.

Yes, Faith had arranged for the tea—and she’d drugged me!

I came to in the pink light of early dawn, my head feeling like it had been run over by a military caravan. My wits were never as slow as they were that morning. I laid stupidly for what felt like hours, wondering why my bed was so narrow and lumpy, and why the walls of the room were so rough and bare, and why those infernal birds were screaming half an inch from my open window.

By the time I had enough strength to sit up, I could see that I was in the bedroom of a farmer’s cottage. Faith was standing by the window, looking out at the sunrise, wearing the dress she’d worn the first day I met her. Her hair was unbound, tumbling in golden waves all the way to her ankles. My heart leapt at the sight—her hair was one of the wonders of the world in those days, and I was so glad to see her when I felt so ill—until I remembered the events of the previous day, and was too confused and ashamed to have room for any other thoughts or feelings.

“Faith?” I asked. “Why are you here? Where am I?”

“My father’s home,” Faith replied, her eyes downcast—I think it’s the only time in her life she was ever bashful. “You told me I could take the one thing I loved best.”

Can I explain to you how my heart leapt at those words? There had never been a mind or a heart like my wife’s! It was like the moment she’d come to save her father—she made me feel a fool and feel glad for the reminder. I’d made the same mistake both times—let my head get in the way of my heart. She never made that mistake, thank heaven, and it saved us both.

Do you have something you want to add, Faith, darling? Don’t pretend I can’t see you lurking in the stacks and laughing at me! I’ll get as sappy as I like! If you think you can do it better, come out in the open and finish this story properly!

Faith

You tell it so beautifully, my darling fool boy, but if you insist—

I was forever grateful Dinah took that tea to Alistair. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the loophole in his words—I was so afraid he’d see my ploy coming and stop me. But his wits were so blessedly dull that day. It was like outwitting a child.

When at last he came to, I was terrified. He had cast me out because I’d outwitted him, and now here I was again, thinking another clever trick would make everything well.

Fortunately, Alistair was marvelous—saw my meaning in an instant. Sometimes he can be almost clever.

After that, what’s there to tell? We made up our quarrel, and then some. Alistair brought me back to the palace in high honors—it was wonderful, the way he praised me and took so much blame on himself.

(You were really rather too hard on yourself, darling—I’d done more than enough to make any man rightfully angry. Taking you to Father’s house was my chance to apologize.)

Alistair paid the farmer for the loss of his foal, paid for the mending of the fence that had led to the trouble in the first place, and straightened out the legal tangles that had the neighbors at each others’ throats.

After that, things returned much to the way they’d been before, except that Alistair was careful never to think himself into such troubles again. We’ve gotten older, and I hope wiser, and between our quarrels and our reconciliations, we’ve grown into quite the wise pair of lovestruck fools. Take heed from it, whenever you marry—it’s good to have a clever spouse, but make sure you have one who’s willing to be the fool every once in a while.

Trust me. It works out for the best.

[saintsandsorcery2]

Not quite right - Saints And Sorcery

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav

Summary: Some days nothing turns out quite the way you expect it to…

Ao3 <3

Calling it a ‘bad day’ would have been an understatement.

Cyder still didn’t feel quite like herself after a long bath, a good enough meal, and her favourite book. Even the thought of Gale placing the aforementioned book on her pillow during her absence wasn’t enough.

Gales classes had started in the later part of the day and Cyder had been working since the early morning and she’d found herself a little disappointed to find their home still empty.

From the moment she’d stepped into the library, immediately intent to slip away into the endless aisles of shelves the giant building housed, it had all gone wrong.

The job had been heaven to begin with, no noise, hundreds of thousands of tomes that needed to be categorised and brought to their respective shelves, enough time to browse some for her own interest... Cyder loved it. But that day, she’d been held up by her new coworker.

Not that she minded company, most of the time. She enjoyed Having a little chat here and there, listening to the latest gossip while Rose, the oldest staff member, brewed some of that delicious tea made precisely the way Cyder liked it.

It was an entirely different thing to be held up at every turn, to have each of her decisions questioned, and to be completely disregarded. And to be flirted with – badly flirted with. Cyder had always felt that she remained oblivious most of the time; if she noticed it, it wasn’t always a positive thing.

By the time the sun began to set, Cyder braided her dust covered hair, violently yanking it into place and pinned her fringe out of her eyes, each movement betraying her inner turmoil. „Good evening then!“ she’d called as she rushed to the entrance with her bag slung across her shoulder.

„Wait! Just a Moment!“

She stopped. She actually stopped. „Damn these good manners,“ she muttered under her breath as she dug her fingers into the leather of her bags strap.

„What was that?“

„Nothing.“

„You mentioned you live somewhere near the archives?“

„I suppose.“ She must have said so, not that she remembered, she’d simply done her best to fill the silence with something, anything. Well, when there was silence at least, that man wasn’t exactly likely to ever fall quiet - Albeit a quality she admired in Gale, most other people simply got on her nerves that way.

„We happen to be heading in the same direction.“ he beamed at her as he placed his hand on her shoulder. „We can walk together then. Get to know each other even better?“

„Sure.“ she said, shrugging off his hand as impolitely as possible. Cyder nodded and practically sprinted off. She wasn’t going to slow down, not unless he asked. She knew men like him, he’d never ask. She hid her smile, noticing how it was a little too self-satisfied, even for her own tastes.

She did her best to seem at least a little interested in anything besides getting home and – hopefully – finding Gale already there.

They walked the winding streets of Waterdeep for a few minutes without cyder getting a single word in. She simply closed her eyes, drowning out the noise with the waves she began to hear breaking against the rocks in the harbour. So damn close.

“This is it.” She announced bluntly and came to a halt before the towers door.

“This?” He laughed, which did nothing to quell Cyders absolute frustration. “Are you sure?” He winked.

“I’m sure.”

“You know… I could come upstairs with you, seems like a far way up-“

“No, thank you.” She grinned as she laid her palm against the doors smooth surface -“Have a wonderful night.” - and spoke the phrase of passage Gale and her had chosen. The world around her blurred for a moment and there was the familiar rushing sensation of magic at work coursing through her body. When Cyder opened her eyes she stood at the top of a spiral staircase.

It wasn’t until an hour before midnight that she heard her husbands footsteps, clearly being extra cautious, in case she was already asleep.

Cyder wrapped the robe she had borrowed from Gale tighter around herself as she trudged from the living room towards the entrance. Her hair was in a total disarray and hadn’t even dried yet, she didn’t like how tired and sluggish she felt, she hadn’t even bothered to change into her normal sleepwear yet.

Mostly though, she had no idea how to articulate herself anymore. As she finally saw him, she didn’t say anything before practically crashing into Gale.

“Gale…” She muttered, as her husband’s confusion at her silent attack faded, and he carded his fingers through her hair. He smelled like smoke and, with a small smile tugging at her lips, she asked. “Did one of your students set something on fire?”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer. “you mean to ask whether one of my students set something on fire again?”

She nodded, undoing the buttons of his shirt, frowning at the burnt up sleeves, as the couple finally found their way into the bedroom.

“You are not quite right in that assumption, my love.” He muttered.

“You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve heard that today.” She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair and found them smudged with dark spots. “Without the ‘My love’, of course.” She added hastily.

“At least the day’s over.” He gave her a wry smile as he sat down on their bed. “Or, let me rephrase that – the part of the day I surely didn’t appreciate is over.”

She hummed in agreement, stopping herself before wiping the grime off her hands on the Robe.

“But… now I’m with you.” He sighed, massaging his temples and leaving behind another dark black smudge before perking up and giving her that wide eyed look Cyder knew all too well – it tended to mean that he forgot his own worries above hers. “Are you well, dear?”

“You know, now…” She gave up on ridding herself of the remnants of the fire and curled up in her husband’s arms again, discarding the thought of having to wash the robe and change the sheets and- “More than well. Now that I’m with you.”

“I love you.” He whispered, burying his nose in Cyders hair.

“I know,” she replied, snuggling into his chest. “I love you too.”

They let the quiet dark lure them into comfort, nothing but the melody of waves, and breath, and love carrying them into night.

“My heart?” Cyder asked, softly. “What did you meant with ‘not entirely right’ earlier?”

“It certainly doesn’t mean that I failed to cast a simple spell.”

“Ah, alright.”

“It also doesn’t mean that I burnt half of my desk in the process of controlling the damn thing.”

“Of course not.”

“I would never do such a thing.“

“Never,” Cyder agreed, desperately trying to hide her smile as she pulled her husband closer.

Tysm for reading ✨

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Coming Out Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ And Then a Bit by @infinitelymint (E, 158k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts.

(aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

2️⃣ led by your beating heart by @missandrogyny (E, 33k)

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any help right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

3️⃣ California Sold by @isthatyoularry (M, 123k)

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

4️⃣ Shake Me Down by @agreatperhaps12 (NR, 208k)

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

5️⃣ Time Bomb��by ThisSentimentalHeart (M, 291k)

“Why exactly are you here?” Louis asked, feigning annoyance and failing pathetically at it. “My publicist told me I can't go anywhere near you.” Harry said, eyes still smudged with last night's eye liner. “That makes you my favorite person in the world.”

Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence (NR, 62k)

It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”

“No, no,” Louis said quickly. "They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”

“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

Or, an AU inspired by a 30 second trailer of Ted Lasso that doesn't actually have much in common with the show at all.

💎 That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 50k)

Harry’s never noticed how lovely Louis really is. Maybe it’s just that she’s usually so guarded – a little tense, a little irritated, a little put out. At least when she’s at school, and also usually when she’s around Nick, which are the only times Harry has really seen her. Until tonight. Tonight Harry’s seen her with her guard completely down. Too busy laughing and enjoying herself to remember to be prickly, maybe. She seems different.

It feels different.

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

💎 some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveedel (M, 20k)

Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.

💎 still feel the same around you by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (E, 13k)

Twenty-five years is a long time to fall in love with someone, to learn all the ways a person can fit into one's heart. It’s also an awful long time to lie to one of the most important people in your life.

The Act My Age Girl Direction AU.

💎 Glass Heart by @musketrois (G, 7k)

“26-year-old West Ham footballer Louis Tomlinson was seen getting acquainted with 24-year-old pop sensation Harry Styles and others. Although it is not unordinary for these two professions to be social, we can’t wait to see what this budding relationship will bring to London’s social scene.”

-Celebrity Blurb 25 March, 2017

[saintsandsorcery]

Not quite right - Saints And Sorcery

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav

“At least the day’s over.” He gave her a wry smile as he sat down on their bed. “Or, let me rephrase that – the part of the day I surely didn’t appreciate is over.”

Ao3

Calling it a ‘bad day’ would have been an understatement.

Cyder still didn’t feel quite like herself after a long bath, a good enough meal, and her favourite book. Even the thought of Gale placing the aforementioned book on her pillow during her absence wasn’t enough.

Gales classes had started in the later part of the day and Cyder had been working since the early morning and she’d found herself a little disappointed to find their home still empty.

From the moment she’d stepped into the library, immediately intent to slip away into the endless aisles of shelves the giant building housed, it had all gone wrong.

The job had been heaven to begin with, no noise, hundreds of thousands of tomes that needed to be categorised and brought to their respective shelves, enough time to browse some for her own interest... Cyder loved it. But that day, she’d been held up by her new coworker.

Not that she minded company, most of the time. She enjoyed Having a little chat here and there, listening to the latest gossip while Rose, the oldest staff member, brewed some of that delicious tea made precisely the way Cyder liked it.

It was an entirely different thing to be held up at every turn, to have each of her decisions questioned, and to be completely disregarded. And to be flirted with – badly flirted with. Cyder had always felt that she remained oblivious most of the time; if she noticed it, it wasn’t always a positive thing.

By the time the sun began to set, Cyder braided her dust covered hair, violently yanking it into place and pinned her fringe out of her eyes, each movement betraying her inner turmoil. „Good evening then!“ she’d called as she rushed to the entrance with her bag slung across her shoulder.

„Wait! Just a Moment!“

She stopped. She actually stopped. „Damn these good manners,“ she muttered under her breath as she dug her fingers into the leather of her bags strap.

„What was that?“

„Nothing.“

„You mentioned you live somewhere near the archives?“

„I suppose.“ She must have said so, not that she remembered, she’d simply done her best to fill the silence with something, anything. Well, when there was silence at least, that man wasn’t exactly likely to ever fall quiet - Albeit a quality she admired in Gale, most other people simply got on her nerves that way.

„We happen to be heading in the same direction.“ he beamed at her as he placed his hand on her shoulder. „We can walk together then. Get to know each other even better?“

„Sure.“ she said, shrugging off his hand as impolitely as possible. Cyder nodded and practically sprinted off. She wasn’t going to slow down, not unless he asked. She knew men like him, he’d never ask. She hid her smile, noticing how it was a little too self-satisfied, even for her own tastes.

She did her best to seem at least a little interested in anything besides getting home and – hopefully – finding Gale already there.

They walked the winding streets of Waterdeep for a few minutes without cyder getting a single word in. She simply closed her eyes, drowning out the noise with the waves she began to hear breaking against the rocks in the harbour. So damn close.

“This is it.” She announced bluntly and came to a halt before the towers door.

“This?” He laughed, which did nothing to quell Cyders absolute frustration. “Are you sure?” He winked.

“I’m sure.”

“You know… I could come upstairs with you, seems like a far way up-“

“No, thank you.” She grinned as she laid her palm against the doors smooth surface -“Have a wonderful night.” - and spoke the phrase of passage Gale and her had chosen. The world around her blurred for a moment and there was the familiar rushing sensation of magic at work coursing through her body. When Cyder opened her eyes she stood at the top of a spiral staircase.

It wasn’t until an hour before midnight that she heard her husbands footsteps, clearly being extra cautious, in case she was already asleep.

Cyder wrapped the robe she had borrowed from Gale tighter around herself as she trudged from the living room towards the entrance. Her hair was in a total disarray and hadn’t even dried yet, she didn’t like how tired and sluggish she felt, she hadn’t even bothered to change into her normal sleepwear yet.

Mostly though, she had no idea how to articulate herself anymore. As she finally saw him, she didn’t say anything before practically crashing into Gale.

“Gale…” She muttered, as her husband’s confusion at her silent attack faded, and he carded his fingers through her hair. He smelled like smoke and, with a small smile tugging at her lips, she asked. “Did one of your students set something on fire?”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer. “you mean to ask whether one of my students set something on fire again?”

She nodded, undoing the buttons of his shirt, frowning at the burnt up sleeves, as the couple finally found their way into the bedroom.

“You are not quite right in that assumption, my love.” He muttered.

“You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve heard that today.” She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair and found them smudged with dark spots. “Without the ‘My love’, of course.” She added hastily.

“At least the day’s over.” He gave her a wry smile as he sat down on their bed. “Or, let me rephrase that – the part of the day I surely didn’t appreciate is over.”

She hummed in agreement, stopping herself before wiping the grime off her hands on the Robe.

“But… now I’m with you.” He sighed, massaging his temples and leaving behind another dark black smudge before perking up and giving her that wide eyed look Cyder knew all too well – it tended to mean that he forgot his own worries above hers. “Are you well, dear?”

“You know, now…” She gave up on ridding herself of the remnants of the fire and curled up in her husband’s arms again, discarding the thought of having to wash the robe and change the sheets and- “More than well. Now that I’m with you.”

“I love you.” He whispered, burying his nose in Cyders hair.

“I know,” she replied, snuggling into his chest. “I love you too.”

They let the quiet dark lure them into comfort, nothing but the melody of waves, and breath, and love carrying them into night.

“My heart?” Cyder asked, softly. “What did you meant with ‘not entirely right’ earlier?”

“It certainly doesn’t mean that I failed to cast a simple spell.”

“Ah, alright.”

“It also doesn’t mean that I burnt half of my desk in the process of controlling the damn thing.”

“Of course not.”

“I would never do such a thing.“

“Never,” Cyder agreed, desperately trying to hide her smile as she pulled her husband closer.

[i-myeoni-blogs]

The Creepy Book Girl ~2

Pairing - Non- Idol Yeosang x Reader

Word Count - 6077

Warning - Nothing that we can't handle, all cries and depression, mention of therapy, mention of hallucination.

Summary - She wanted him to stay but he was slipping off her mind. When you had your world properly constructed, it came crashing down with twice the pain and hurt. But what if he's not actually gone?

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

"She saw Matz?" The boy, resembling a fluffy bear, exclaimed before Yeosang swiftly silenced him.

"Lower your voice, Jongho," Yeosang whispered through clenched teeth, earning an apologetic glance from the boy. Yeosang turned his attention back to the couch, where Y/N lay peacefully, exhausted from her constant shifts at the library. Yeosang had volunteered to share her workload, a week passing since she first mentioned seeing someone who resembled Matz. However, she never brought it up again in Yeosang's presence.

Y/N carried on as if nothing had occurred, but Yeosang's concern deepened. "After I brought her out of that place, she seemed alienated for a moment, but then quickly returned to normal, as if nothing happened."

Jongho, speaking in a hushed tone, questioned, "So, where's the problem? It's a good thing she's not chasing after this Matz guy."

Yeosang just shrugged; dissatisfaction etched on his face. "No, it's strange. Matz was a significant part of her life for over a decade, and the fact that she saw someone identical to him..." Yeosang sighed deeply. "It doesn't sit right."

"Well, what's your plan now?" Jongho inquired.

"I don't know. I'll keep an eye on her for now." Yeosang looked at Y/N's face, so pretty, just like the first time he saw her.

Yeosang traveled a lot; he wasn't the type to stay in one place for long. On another trip, he simply wanted a calm spot, somewhere to write his new masterpiece peacefully. Meghalaya came to mind, and without second thoughts, he went on his journey. He found a good place to rent, not sure how long he'd stay, so he picked a cheap but well-kept flat near the hills. The view wasn't dull at all; trees and clouds touching the mountains added to his adventure. Now, with a place to sleep, he sought an even quieter spot for inspiration.

One afternoon, Yeosang walked on the street, trying different street food and accessories, finding comfort in simple pleasures. Meeting new people and learning about different cultures were things he loved.

"Hey there, what can I get you?" The friendly café worker flashed a warm smile at Yeosang, ready to jot down his order. Yeosang returned the smile and opted for a cool lemonade; the heat and his adventurous wanderings had left him weary. "Sure thing, sir. Anything else?"

"No, just the lemonade, thanks." Yeosang glanced around, humming a tune while he settled the bill for his refreshing drink. "By the way, any libraries or quiet spots around where I can do some work?" he inquired politely.

"Oh, there are a bunch of libraries you can check out. But for real peace and quiet, there's this big one up in the Garo hills, and hardly anyone goes there," the barista replied as she handed over the lemonade. "But, you know, the owner's a bit eccentric. I'd think twice."

"Eccentric?" Yeosang raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she lives alone, rarely steps out, and doesn't talk to anyone. Just stays holed up in her library."

Taking in this information, Yeosang simply nodded, sipping his lemonade and relishing its refreshing tang. That was all he needed for a pick-me-up. With a polite farewell, he strolled off to continue his aimless exploration. The Garo hills loomed in the distance, and he recalled the barista's words. It wasn't too late, he mused; he could explore the largest library before nightfall. With that thought in mind, he headed towards the hills.

The rough path guided him to the library the barista had mentioned; it was truly huge and exceptionally beautiful. He expressed gratitude to the ferry that brought him here and settled the fare. The sun hadn't completely set, casting an orange glow that adorned the hills in a splendid display. Despite its beauty, the 'CornerPage' library was eerily empty, as the barista had foretold. A tranquil atmosphere enveloped the space, with scarcely anyone venturing into its quiet confines.

"Hello, is anyone around?" Yeosang clutched his camera tightly and cautiously peered into the library. The tables and chairs were spotless, as if someone diligently cared for the place, even though it seemed rarely frequented. Summoning courage, he stepped into the library, moving uncertainly like a lost child. "Seems like nobody's here," he muttered, retracing his steps. However, his retreat halted at the sudden thump, a noise echoing through the silence. Intrigued, he advanced towards the source of the sound.

If life had a theme, he figured his would revolve around love at first sight. One day, he spotted her— a girl on the small stairs, neatly organizing books. Lost in her task, she didn't hear him approaching. Soft sunlight painted her face with a gentle glow, like the warmest honey. The way she handled the books seemed like she was keeping her whole life in order.

As Yeosang noticed them trembling slightly. Unable to stay silent, he whispered, "Be careful." It might not have been the smartest move, but the view that unfolded was breathtaking.

Startled by the sudden sound, the girl turned her head. Yeosang stood frozen, captivated by the beauty standing before him.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely, stepping off the stairs to face Yeosang, who remained motionless for what felt like an eternity. As confusion crossed her face, Yeosang finally snapped out of his daze and stuttered.

"I... I was looking for a quiet spot to work. A barista in town suggested this place," he confessed sincerely. The girl made an understanding sound and smiled, adjusting her glasses.

"You can sit anywhere here, except for that spot. Mr. Robinson claims it for himself," she pointed to the nearest table, chuckling. Yeosang floated in the melody of her voice, as soft as a lullaby. His emotions raced ahead of him, leaving him spellbound.

"Yeosang!" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he closed his laptop, turning to see Y/N stirring awake. Rubbing her eyes, she questioned, "Did I sleep too long?" Yeosang approached her, captivated by memories of the day they first met. Crouching down, he gently took her hands.

"It's alright, love. You've been working hard. I'll handle the library; you can go upstairs," he reassured her. Y/N nodded, rose, and headed towards their shared room. The space held a flood of memories, past and present intertwined. As she gazed at the cabinet, confusion enveloped her, reality and imagination blurring together. Her mind raced, and memories flooded back: a pointed nose, a tidy suit, and a silver ring that brought comfort. It was Matz, she recalled, and a wave of sadness engulfed her.

"Hey princess." A pair of arms enveloped her as she arranged her belongings in the cabinet. It was Matz, and his touch lingered in her memory like an indelible mark.

"You're back finally, Matzy," Y/N remarked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Matz gently turned her to face him, wearing an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, princess, but you know how work gets sometimes," he said, burying his face in the curve of her neck, eliciting a giggle from her. Y/N cherished the contrast between the powerful exterior he presented to the world and the vulnerable, whiny side he revealed to her. His duality fascinated her.

But then, the memories resurfaced—memories she believed she had buried. His face, which she thought was forgotten, flashed before her eyes after a year and a half. The wounds she thought had healed were suddenly raw again, and her heart ached at the mere thought of him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled his face. Why now? She questioned herself. Why, when she was supposed to be happily living with Yeosang, did his image haunt her once more? The pain of a forgotten past clawed its way back into her present.

She hurried downstairs, her heart racing, but she hesitated. She couldn't let Yeosang see her like this. What would he think if she confessed that her past memories were resurfacing, haunted by Matz? She couldn't burden him with this pain. Wiping away her tears with a swift motion, Y/N straightened her jeans, took a deep breath, and composed herself before returning to the library.

"Love, what's the matter?" Yeosang inquired, concern etched on his face as he observed Y/N standing there, lost in thought.

"I... I couldn't sleep," she stammered, searching for an excuse. "I'll just sit here for a while." Grabbing a newspaper, she settled back on the couch. The library was not crowded, offering her solace in its quietude.

As Yeosang resumed his work, typing away on his laptop, Y/N stole glances at him. She focused intently, as if trying to engrave his features in her mind, wanting only to see Yeosang and no one else. Despite knowing every detail by heart, she scrutinized him, attempting to create a mental snapshot of his presence. The weight of her unspoken sadness lingered in the silent library.

She longed to share everything with Yeosang, but she couldn't burden him with her emotional struggles. So, she kept the pain hidden, deciding not to bring it up until she felt more stable. She believed she could convincingly act like everything was fine, or at least that's what she hoped.

"Y/N, I'm stepping out to meet a friend. Will you be okay alone, my love?" Yeosang inquired, and Y/N nodded in response. Days passed, and Y/N played the role of a content partner, concealing the inner turmoil she felt. Despite the return of her unsettling hallucinations, she couldn't bear to let Yeosang discover her suffering. With a forced smile, she bid him farewell, wishing for his safety.

After seeing Yeosang off, she hesitantly walked to her room, her steps filled with uncertainty as she struggled to turn the doorknob. Fearful of encountering that familiar face, the one she desperately wanted to keep at bay, she mustered all her courage. Turning the knob, she entered her room, sprinting towards the dresser with a heavy heart.

"Princess," she heard a voice—Matz's voice. However, she chose not to turn around and, instead, opened a drawer, rummaging through its contents in search of something. "Princess, it's me," the voice persisted, echoing in her ears. Yet, she realized it was a deception, her own imagination playing tricks on her. The voices continued to intensify, and she tightly squeezed her free hand, trying to resist the temptation to give in.

After a while, she finally discovered what she was seeking—a glossy black card labeled 'RealTalk' in silver letters. Those therapy sessions she never thought she'd require had become an essential part of her life. She knew she had to contact her doctor, and she promised herself to make that call today.

"Y/N," she heard, and quickly slid the card up her sleeve. It was Yeosang. Confused, she got up and walked toward him. He had said he was leaving, she remembered. He looked into her eyes, sensing she was keeping something from him. Despite knowing, he chose not to confront her at that moment and just smiled.

"What’s wrong? I came back to get my phone; I left it on the bed," he explained, moving towards the bed. However, he glanced at the drawer from the corner of his eye, wondering, 'What might she be hiding?' Retrieving his phone, he walked away, giving Y/N a side hug and a kiss on her temple before leaving once more.

Y/N let out a long sigh, a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and closed her eyes for a brief moment after Yeosang departed.

"Who was he, princess?" The voice brought her back, and her eyes snapped open. Turning her head, she felt her lower lip quiver. There he stood, arms crossed – a vivid memory from the days when she and Yeosang had become friends through regular encounters at the library.

"He's Yeosang, a writer who came here to find a quiet spot to start his work." Y/N's gaze shifted to her own reflection, as if her memories were playing out on a big screen. She saw herself getting ready for bed. Matz, however, was not pleased; he felt threatened, insecure about Yeosang encroaching on his territory. Since Yeosang's arrival at the library, Y/N had become more engrossed in their shared passion for stories. Matz rolled his eyes and moved closer, enveloping Y/N in a back hug.

"Tell me you're mine," Matz pleaded, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. Y/N attempted to turn and face him, but Matz held her tightly, preventing her from meeting his gaze directly. "Please, tell me I'm yours."

"Matzy, are you feeling insecure?"

"Maybe a bit, but that's not the main issue." Matz eased his hold, allowing Y/N to turn. She gently rested her hands on his chest, a delicate thread encircling her ring finger. "I just don't want to lose you, because if that happens, I'll be lost forever," Matz spoke with a trembling voice, pain evident in his eyes. Y/N didn't grasp the gravity of the situation; she thought Matz's jealousy was just like any other boyfriend's.

"Hey, Matzy, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. I'm yours, okay?" She spoke gently, enveloping Matz in a tight hug. Her embrace exuded love and tenderness. "Just relax, alright?" Y/N ran her fingers through his hair soothingly.

"And I won't let you forget me ever," Matz said, breaking the hug but keeping Y/N in his arms, looking into her eyes.

"Never."

"Never," Matz echoed, hugging her again, desperately clinging to the moment.

Y/N felt overwhelmed as memories from the past flooded her thoughts, causing her to lose her balance and collapse onto her knees. The echoes of Matz's voice and her own intertwined, playing like a haunting melody in her mind. Desperate to escape, she covered her ears with her hands and shut her eyes tightly, repeatedly mumbling, "Go away."

Despite her efforts to drown out the painful echoes, the voices persisted, growing louder and more relentless. Overwhelmed, Y/N couldn't contain her emotions any longer. She screamed, releasing the pent-up anguish that had been building inside her. Alone in the closed library on a quiet Sunday, she cried uncontrollably, curling into a fetal position as if seeking solace within herself. In that moment, she was grateful for the solitude, realizing that if the library had been open, her cries would have echoed for everyone to hear, exposing the deep wounds within her soul. Maybe if she closed her eyes and ears, these voices would go away and so she closed her eyes until she was taken into dreamland.

"Yeosang, you here? Is Y/N not with you?" The woman greeted Yeosang at the door, but his face darkened upon hearing Y/N's name. His forced smile hinted at an underlying sadness that the woman immediately sensed. "Come in," she offered, allowing Yeosang to enter.

"Julie, could you make us some tea?" The woman instructed her house help while gesturing for Yeosang to take a seat on the sofa. Positioning herself across from him, she asked, "What's troubling you?" Yeosang sat with his elbows on his knees, looking worn out.

"It's Y/N... she saw Matz."

The woman, without changing her expression, briefly closed her eyes. "The treatments were ineffective," she confessed, a mix of hurt and disappointment evident in her words.

"No, Mom, not in her imagination. She saw him in reality, right here a week ago." Yeosang leaned forward, perched on the edge of the sofa. The woman's surprise was evident, her incredulous expression silently conveying disbelief.

Yeosang shared the whole tale of his encounter with Y/N and a mysterious person they bumped into on the street, someone Y/N claimed was Matz. He described how Y/N, usually calm beyond belief, seemed oddly composed in a way that didn't quite fit. He feared she might be concealing her true emotions or, worse yet, slipping into a state of unresponsiveness.

He handed over a leaflet given to him by the stranger on the street, a flyer detailing an event that had already taken place over the weekend. On the front were images of two men who appeared to be street performers, adorned with tattoos and dressed in funky outfits that might catch the attention of college girls. The woman studied the pamphlet closely, her eyes catching the bold letters spelling out 'MATZ.'

"What I need to know is whether she ever attended their concert or had any encounters with them before her delusions began," Yeosang inquired, his voice carrying a weight of sadness.

Y/N's mom let out a soft, sorrowful laugh as she placed the pamphlet on the table. The teas, brought in by the house help a few minutes ago, grew colder with each passing moment. "I wish I could tell you more, Yeosang, but she was closer to her father," she said, meeting his gaze, pain evident in her eyes.

Y/N had lost her father during her college days, and no one recalled her ever mentioning him. Not a single tear had fallen from her eyes at his funeral. Y/N remained silent, immersed in her father's library, now hers.

"He adored Y/N, she was his little girl, sharing the same love for books and stories as her father did," her mother continued, taking a deep breath. "He always took her to book events, sometimes at the expense of her school attendance. For him, it was 'passion and skills matter most, chanting knowledge.' Those were his words, and Y/N held onto them, keeping them close to her heart."

It was one of those times when they'd travel for days, exploring every place. Sadly, she never spared a moment for me, and regrettably, I find myself a stranger to my own daughter. They always formed a close bond, getting lost in the world of books at the library, sharing thoughts on their beloved collection. Frustration reached its peak, pushing me to leave that home and find comfort at my mom's place. Yet, my absence went unnoticed, like a ghost fading into the shadows.

Her father resembled a bird I longed to keep for myself, but alas, he slipped through my fingers, and Y/N mirrors him in every way. So, it's a choice between flying alongside her in the sky she's crafted or letting her fly away. A tear slipped from her cheek, swiftly wiped away before it could fully reveal the pain etched on her face. "She stopped talking to me after they returned from Goa, and soon after, her father passed away."

Yeosang's curiosity piqued, he inquired, "Goa, their final journey together, right?" The woman nodded, a heavy confirmation hanging in the air. "Could you share what happened there? Any details could be invaluable." Yeosang pleaded, but Y/N's mom shook her head, indicating her lack of knowledge about the events that unfolded in Goa.

"This is all I could give you, Yeosang," he said with a heavy heart. Yeosang silently acknowledged the words. There had to be some incident in Goa that led to Y/N cutting off ties with her mother. It's been a decade since then, and the fact that Y/N mentioned knowing Matz for 10 years hints at a connection to Goa. Perhaps she met Matz there. To confirm this possibility, Yeosang had to meet Matz. Clutching the pamphlet tightly, he was resolute in embarking on a journey to uncover the truth of what transpired in Goa, his eyes reflecting a determination mixed with sadness.

He had to go back home first; he couldn't leave Y/N alone for too long, especially since her condition was worse than just being confused. The sun was setting as he hurried his way home, but to his surprise, there was no sign of Y/N when he arrived. The newly hired person taking care of the library mentioned that she left in the afternoon, claiming she needed groceries and hadn't returned.

This puzzled Yeosang. Y/N didn't have any friends because she had been living inside the library for a decade, cut off from normal human interactions with past friends and family. "Could she have gone to..." Yeosang shook his head, struggling with the thought. He didn't want to believe that Y/N might have gone to meet that street performer, but his mind betrayed him. "No... this can't be," he mumbled.

"What can't be?" Yeosang swiftly turned around to see Y/N standing in front of him, holding two bags filled with what seemed like groceries.

"Where were..." Yeosang couldn't finish his sentence as Y/N raised her hands to show the plastic bags. "No, I mean..." He started again.

"I went to the bridge. The sun looked beautiful today," Y/N said, gazing at the orange hues of sunlight emitted through the bright evening sky. Yeosang's eyes were fixed on Y/N; she was becoming unresponsive, and it frightened him. He knew he had to meet this Matz guy quickly; he made a mental note to see him tomorrow.

Y/N disliked keeping secrets from Yeosang, even for a short time, but she didn't want to bother him. This idea troubled her deeply. Restlessly tapping her feet while waiting, she was anxious about the situation. She had an appointment with Dr. Pal, the person who helped her navigate through her confusing thoughts. It was clear that she needed the doctor's support, especially as she felt herself slipping back into a world of illusions.

Yeosang had left earlier that morning, providing the perfect opportunity for her to slip away unnoticed. Although she managed to cover up her absence the day before, she couldn't keep making excuses. Y/N felt a sense of relief that she could leave without Yeosang knowing, and Dr. Pal assured her that the information would remain confidential.

Y/N shared the whole story with Dr. Pal, beginning with the moment she met someone who looked like Matz but was actually quite different. The fake Matz wore different clothes and talked in a way that was not at all like her kind and gentle Matz. Despite the imposter's stern attitude, the Matz she loved was always caring and gentle, especially with her. As she spoke, a heaviness settled in her heart, recalling the stark contrast between the real Matz and the deceptive imitation.

"Y/N," she heard her name being called as she compared her memories of Matz with the person she met a week ago. Stepping into the cabin, she instantly felt a calming sensation, as if all her frayed nerves were finally finding solace. Seated before Dr. Pal, she was greeted with a reassuring smile.

"Are we ready?" the doctor inquired, picking up from their conversation the day before. Y/N had opened up about the profound loneliness she'd felt since her father passed away 12 years ago. Despite her mother's unwavering support, Y/N found herself unable to confide in her. Her father's sudden stroke, his collapse in the library—those haunting moments clung to her like a shadow. The sense of helplessness and distress overwhelmed her, as if she had lost her only confidant, her father and friend.

In the aftermath, Y/N built walls around herself, convinced that no one could truly understand the depths of her emotions. She withdrew from everyone, creating a shield to keep her pain hidden. The memory of her last trip to Lucient's College of Management in Goa lingered in her mind, casting a gloom over her soul. It was during an event where people showcased their new works of fiction and non-fiction.

"So, this fake Matz, did you see him in Goa?" The doctor asked again.

"Yeah," Y/N softly replied, recalling the time she spotted him in Goa.

It was December, but the sun in Goa beamed as if it were July in Meghalaya. If she were back home, she'd be bundled up, shielding herself from the cold. Yet, in Goa, the weather wrapped her in warmth and the brilliance of the sun. The event at Lucient’s College of Management was alive with enthusiasm, and Y/N couldn't help but admire the talents of the students. Her gaze drifted to her father, engaged in conversation with a man who claimed to be the people’s chosen author of the year.

Seeking a moment of respite, Y/N excused herself and strolled freely around the campus.

"Who's up for some spirited music?" A voice echoed from a distant speaker, prompting cheers and hoots. Y/N glanced at her father, still engrossed in conversation. Curiosity tugged at her, leading her toward the lively crowd. A robust melody filled the air, and despite her preference for softer tunes, she found herself swaying to the rhythm.

Y/N gazed at the stage, where two young men, possibly around her age, stood. They were students from Lucient's college of management, with faces so sharp they could pierce a girl's heart, evident from the cheers of the college girls. Despite their beauty and youthfulness, what captivated Y/N and held her in place was the voice of the shorter male. When he sang, his lyrics were powerful, carrying an underlying pain. Y/N found herself lost in the beauty of his voice, as if he was singing just for her. It was like her surroundings blurred, and she imagined a scenario, much like those her father used to narrate from books during her childhood.

Unconsciously, she moved forward through the crowd, making her way to the front. Her eyes sparkled, fixated on the singer, feeling as if her whole world was right in front of her.

Y/N stood there, absorbing their music until the first song ended, and the crowd erupted in cheers. "Mad Brothers..." the singer shouted, turning the microphone toward the crowd, who responded with a loud 'Matz.' Y/N whispered the word 'Matz' as if trying to etch it into her memory. Matz interacted with the crowd, and Y/N was convinced that his smile was the most genuine thing she had ever seen.

As the singer extended his hand to the crowd, Y/N joined in, raising her hand with a beautiful smile, her eyes fixed on him. He politely shook her hand, and luck seemed to be on her side when a bohemian-style hanging accessory from his guitar fell into her hand like a precious gift.

"Did you see him again?" the doctor asked, and Y/N shook her head. "He was just a small part of my journey, but the impact was lasting," she said. "No love at first sight or clichés, just a moment when our connection felt right. His words kept me there longer than I expected."

"After my father passed away, the only genuine thing left, besides his memories, was that guy's smile. It marked the beginning of my illusions," Y/N admitted, no longer avoiding her emotions. "He became a memory that supported and shielded me in the past, but maybe I let him linger in my thoughts for too long."

Taking a deep breath, tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "I sought comfort in my books and imagined his face. The man in the street became Matz, but he's not the Matz I once knew or created."

She wandered down memory lane, recalling an incident from 12 years ago after returning from her trip to Goa. It was a time when her father fell ill due to diabetes mismanagement. Unaware of the severity, he continued his regular travels, neglecting his health. Caught up in the routine, both he and Y/N overlooked the seriousness of his condition.

One day, while reading a story about a businessman who always wore suits, her father suddenly groaned in pain, clutching his head. Frantically, Y/N called for an ambulance, but before it could arrive, he passed away. His life, which began in his beloved library, concluded within its walls. Y/N was in shock, gripping the last book he had shared with her.

When her mother arrived to oversee the funeral arrangements, she attempted to console Y/N. However, Y/N remained silent, fixated on the sight of her father being laid to rest in the six feet of earth. This event marked a turning point in Y/N's life. She withdrew from social interactions, spoke to no one, and ventured out only when necessary. Most of her time was spent at the library, where she sought solace in the books. Despite her mother's attempts to help, Y/N adamantly rejected any assistance.

It was one of those nights when Y/N found herself immersed in her favorite book yet again. The quiet of the evening was interrupted by a knock on the door, jolting her from the story. "Is anyone here? Princess, are you home?" a voice called out, catching Y/N off guard. Wondering who could be visiting at this late hour and why they were referring to her as a princess, she approached the door cautiously.

The darkness outside was only partially illuminated by the porch light, revealing a figure with their back turned. The person ran their fingers through their hair, a silver ring catching the light. Dressed in a suit and tie, the mysterious visitor seemed out of place. Y/N couldn't help but stare as he turned around, revealing a charming smile with eyes that formed crescent moons. Without fully understanding why, Y/N decided to open the door.

"Who are you?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"You called for me. I'm your Matz," he replied with a warm smile.

“Promises whispered in the soft moonlight,

Faded away, like stars in the endless night.

Hollow echoes of laughter, now silent and cold,

A love story written…”

“But the ending untold.” Y/N finished the line of the song alongside Matz.

"But the guy I saw last week was different from the one who protected me. Maybe it was his music that made me picture his face in my mind. But now I realize he's not the one I'm thinking about; Matz was just an illusion to guard my heart." Y/N spoke with another charm in her voice.

"Well, I guess our talk is done for good," said the doctor, a small smile appearing as he closed the folder containing Y/N's name and medical story. The chapter was finished; she had faced her emotions and never felt lighter.

"Yeah, I suppose." Maybe all she needed was a closure to distinguish between reality and illusion. Yet, everything unfolds for a purpose, and she was thankful for it all, as it led her to Yeosang. The kind of love she'd always yearned for – tender and caring. Now, she could finally put a face to that feeling, and it was Yeosang. All she wanted was to get home soon and share everything.

Y/N arrived home early, her heart brimming with joy and relief as she finally bid farewell to the heavy burdens that had occupied her mind for far too long. Yeosang, however, was nowhere to be found as she stepped into their home. Undeterred, she decided to focus on her chores, tending to the shelves with diligence.

The echoes of Matz's memories and words no longer haunted her thoughts. Y/N had forged ahead, determined to embrace the reality of a genuine relationship with Yeosang. The promise of a new chapter in her life seemed within reach.

"Love, I'm home," Yeosang's voice rang out, interrupting her tasks. Excitement surged through Y/N, and she rushed towards the door, eager to share her newfound happiness with him. However, as she reached the entrance, confusion etched across her face. Yeosang was indeed there, but he was not alone; Matz stood by his side.

When Yeosang stepped out this morning, bringing Matz home was the last thing Y/N expected. “Y/N, meet Hongjoong. He sings with his friend Seonghwa, and they go by the name Matz,” Yeosang said, reaching out to Y/N and taking her hand.

Yeosang felt uncertain about what to do. He needed to find out what happened in Goa, and only two people held the answers – either Y/N or this Matz guy. So, he came up with an excuse, telling Y/N that he was going out with Jongho. It wasn't entirely false, as Jongho had discovered that Matz, the singing duo, were staying in a hotel in the main town. Right now, Yeosang and Jongho were outside the hotel, summoning the courage to discuss Yeosang's fiancée with a stranger, perhaps a completely unknown man.

Yeosang and Jongho found themselves seated in front of the duo Matz. One of them, the taller guy with a tattoo on his neck, shot a suspicious glance at both Yeosang and Jongho. A brief silence hung in the air. Yeosang's head drooped in embarrassment, regretting the stunt he had pulled to meet the duo. He had never acted like an overenthusiastic fan before, but for Y/N, he was willing to endure some embarrassment.

The taller member of the duo turned his attention to Yeosang. "Aren’t you the one who was with the creepy girl that day?" he asked, eyeing Yeosang. Confused for a moment, Yeosang realized they were referring to Y/N, who stared back at the man. He nodded in acknowledgment. The duo introduced themselves as Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Seonghwa, the one with the tattoo, was the face of Y/N’s Matz.

"I need to talk to you," Yeosang said to Hongjoong. The shorter man looked surprised, almost yelling ‘me?’ Yeosang nodded and asked them to listen to the whole story, warning it might creep them. Yeosang narrated each event one by one, starting from meeting Y/N to her confessing her imaginary marriage to Matz. The duo's expressions changed with each revelation, and they seemed dumbfounded, processing a lot of information in a short time. When Yeosang finished, the duo exchanged glances, seemingly troubled, and let out a collective exhale.

"So, I need to know if you ever met her in Goa?" Yeosang asked.

Hongjoong shrugged. "Listen, man, many people come to watch our street show. And asking about 12 years ago? How am I supposed to remember? I was in college."

"Unbelievable," Seonghwa chuckled. "You've got a girl swooning over you," he teased Hongjoong. "Girls usually go crazy for me; I'm much prettier and taller."

"Okay, guys, save the banter for another day. I need your help," Yeosang interjected. "I need to save my fiancé."

"You mean the creepy book girl," Seonghwa exclaimed, earning a glare from all three of them.

"I know it sounds weird, but please, I need your help," Yeosang pleaded, his eyes filled with determination and a desire to save his fiancé from further emotional turmoil. Hongjoong couldn't say no after seeing the fire in Yeosang's eyes.

Y/N gazed at Matz, studying his features, searching for any lingering emotions from their past. To her relief, there was nothing. Gratitude washed over her as she turned her attention to Yeosang, whose eyes betrayed a sense of pain. She understood his concerns – perhaps he feared she still held a place for Matz in her heart.

In a swift motion, Y/N turned and fled upstairs, leaving Yeosang and Matz perplexed in the doorway. Matz, despite Yeosang's attempts to explain the situation, stood there with uncertainty, unsure of how to proceed. The awkwardness hung in the air as he nervously rubbed his palms together, waiting for Y/N's return.

Y/N moved slowly towards Matz, who stared at her with wide eyes. He feared she might unleash a slap for some mysterious reason, but it never materialized. Instead, a gentle smile graced Y/N's face as she extended her clenched fist toward him, gesturing for him to open his palm. Uncertain, Matz glanced at Yeosang for approval, receiving a nod. With hesitation, Matz reached out, and Y/N placed a bohemian hanging accessory in his hand. It was a token she had safeguarded, and now the time had come to return it to its rightful owner.

"Where did you find it?" Matz inquired. "I had lost it..."

"12 years ago," Y/N finished his sentence. "And I held onto it until now."

Matz attempted to return the item to her. "It's okay; you should keep it. You've kept it for so long."

Shaking her head, Y/N declined. "No, it's time for me to let it go, I had kept it for longer." She briefly glanced at Yeosang before returning her gaze to Matz. "After all, it was never mine."

Y/N had moved forward, emerging from a profound slumber filled with dreams from the books she'd read, escaping the grasp of reality. But that was in the past now; she was awake and prepared to embark on her actual life, cherishing only the face she wished to hold in her memory. No solace was found in silent things; instead, her sanctuary was in Yeosang, and she was eager to embrace reality alongside him.

[eggtholomew-isnt-emo]

as promised yesterday... my theory on transcranial electrical stimulation! (originally from my section on the rancord gen loss theory doc, feel free to check it out! i edited it a little bit just to make it better for tumblr)

"Basically, *friend* recognized the mask from their studies on Transcranial electrical stimulation. Me and *other friend* researched this a bit more, and found this article. From the National Library of medicine, this article includes studies, the effects tES has on brain cells, brain stimulation, all that good stuff. However, the main spectacle is this line right here. A quote in this article is, “It might therefore surprise some readers to know that studies directly measuring brain activity overwhelmingly support the idea that tES alters the spiking activity of neurons. In fact, studies in isolated brain slices, e.g., [9,10]; rodents, e.g., [11]; ferrets, e.g., [12]; and non-human primates [4,13–15] have largely converged on the specific finding that tES alters the timing, but not the rate, of single-neuron spiking activity at field strengths found in human brains [16,17].The effectiveness of tES is most evident in the application of tACS (Fig 1A). Neurons become entrained to the sinusoidal currents, shifting their spikes towards certain phases of the sinusoid’s waveform and away from others (Fig 1B). Control experiments have shown that this entrainment occurs independently of stimulation of peripheral nerves in the skin [14] or the retina [4], even though stimulating these structures sometimes produces similar effects.”(feel free to look through the diagrams. I didn’t but they might be interesting/helpful) Listen, I may not be a scientist, but I think this seems to suggest that tES can affect the human mind and its neurons. Since neurons affect the nerve impulses, this might be used to support the idea that Ranboo is either a meatpuppet (here in the ranboo gen loss chat, we live laugh love that word) or that he is being tortured. Neurons and its use in torture isn’t a foreign concept, it is actually very popular in torture devices. In the article, “The Future is here: Mind Control and torture in the Digital Era,” I found written by P Perez Salez, it states, “A neural implant is a device placed inside the body that interacts with neurons. In the early days these were electrodes implanted through the cortex, but over time they have evolved into microchips that require minimal surgery for implantation and do not require external power supplies. Neural implants have multiple applications in medicine, especially related to neurostimulation in motor and sensory disorders, but also epilepsy, and they are in early experimentation stage in depressive and obsessive-compulsive disorders (Costa e Silva & Steffen, 2017). This is a rapidly progressing research area in which biochips and implants are built in new and better materials that produce no tissue rejection, incorporating nanotechnologies to diminish the size and with more powerful software to control and interact with the neural system (Dabbour et al., 2021; Salari et al., 2022; Wan et al., 2021) while, again, there is no international regulation of its use (McGee & Maguire, 2007). The most important concern regarding the use of neuroimplants – not in the near future, for now - is represented by the possibility of controlling an individual’s mental functions via wireless waves interacting with the electric activity of the brain. From the perspective of torture, it has been claimed that they could be used in the future to manipulate memory and emotions and to induce hallucinations and psychotic-like symptoms, among many other harmful effects (J. Illes & Hevia, 2021; Krishnan, 2016; Leung et al., 2019).” This shows that nerves can be used in serious torture and mind control scenarios, especially in these current times. (however, I do still believe that this ARG is set in the 80s or 90s, so I’m not sure how that’ll work in that time.) EDIT AS OF MAY 28TH: We now know that it has to be closer to current days, since Ethan lost his job in the 2008 stock crash. Now, if we carry this back to tES, this can be tied together to show that, with the neurons being simulated and waves interacting with the electrical activity in the brain, someone can be tortured and/or mind controlled. "

[fantasypictures]

The Beginning - Beneath Miscellanium

Not the beginning of the setting in an origin myth sense (because, honestly, I'm stealing 4th editions' "gods did a light colonialism on the primordials" thing), but how this setting started in the real world.

The blame falls on Jeff Rients (who is also on tumblr but I can't find the name right now)

back in 2017-ish, Jeff was running a dungeon-crawl game on Google+, where any adherent of the Flailsnails Conventions could turn up and take part. Living in Australia, in a household that would not support me playing D&D at 3am, I could not take part, but I read the blog posts and watched from afar with envy as Jeff's multitudionous players got up to shenanigans in the dungeons, and traded, competed and organized when outside of it (the fact that the players founded a wizard library entirely off their own initiative was particularly cool to me).

Then I got a place to live that was back near the university where I had studied. The university with RPG club I had accidentally acquired a lifetime membership of. The RPG club that was starting new games in February. The new games that always needed more GMs.

AND the place was near a bar that hosted D&D on weekends.

So I decided that if I couldn't join Jeff's game, I would make my own with blackjack and hookers with a newer ruleset.

I had liked hearing about the wild variety of characters Jeff had seen due to allowing multiple different retroclones rulesets for character creation - but knowing that none of my players were interested in OSR stuff at the time, I determined that the best way to achieve this was to allow anything actively published by Wizards of the Coast. Any books, any unearthed arcana, anything (I later walked that back a little bit - no Ravnica backgrounds and NO MYSTICS JFC)

I cobbled together a couple of levels of dungeon and a vague reason why the dungeon content was so wildly varied, named the town above the dungeon Miscellanium both in honour to Jeff's Miscellanium of Cinder and the fact it a good Roman-sounding name for a place full of diverse weridos, worked out how to use a Facebook group to keep all the people involved up to date, and got going.

============

it was amazing.

The wednesday and saturday groups were, initially, mostly seperate. They would sometimes stumble on what each other had been doing, and would vaguely be aware of each others actions - I gave out XP for after-action reports, in-character being the result of adventurers bragging in the tavern between delves. Eventually as the dungeon sprawled out to the point where many players had only seen a small portion of it, resulting in one of my fondest memories:

P1: "Right, we're going to explore past the mushroom chamber [the chamber that, on the map, looks mushroom shaped], so we should go left" P2: "No, the mushroom chamber [the chamber full of mushrooms] is straight ahead!" P3: "You're both idiots, the mushroom chamber [the SECOND chamber full of mushrooms] is to the right!"

15 minutes, much laughter on my part, and much waving around of maps on the players part, later I pointed out to them that there might in fact be multiple chambers that could be described as "the mushroom chamber". After that, the two groups started sharing their maps.

In september, 7 months (both real and game world time) after the first discovery of the dungeon, the players collected together to create the Miscellanium Adventurers' Guild. They had argued about buying property in the city above the dungeon, until my lovely and very smart partner pointed out that they had de-monstered several city blocks of real estate down in the dungeon, and with enough magic and barricades, could claim more space than the guild would ever need. Watching the players work together to set that up was great, and it was even more awesome months later when the Guild was briefly beseiged by constructs from the deep levels.

Eventually, I ran out of content ideas, and the party found the bottom of the dungeon. I made up a bullshit magic excuse for running the same boss fight twice (so I wouldn't have to have 12 players in the one fight), and they slew the demigod-dragon-devil that the dungeon had been dreamed up to contain. At that point the game had run for 18 months, and 151 sessions, and the dungeon had felt the tread of more than 30 characters.

I'd had a lot of fun, but I hadn't done a huge amount of worldbuilding, except by implication: the game had only ever taken the PCs to the dungeon and the town above it, but there had been reference to an Empire, a very-recently-turned-Matriarchal orc state, somewhere with a lot of tieflings (so many tiefling PCs!), a fallen elven Kingdom with lots of missing princesses, and mistakes made by gods in older times.

After that, I moved on to something more story focussed - a more traditional D&D game with only 5 players, a plot, some semblance of an overworld map, and all that jazz. But I put details in that game that linked it to the previous one, and started imagining what the rest of the world would be like…

[theofaluvsviolet]

Elden Ring One Shots | Enira (My Oc) and Diallos

•So yeah this is basically the only love ship I’ve made in Elden ring. The game only gives you wifu but I am neither lesbian nor man. My oc is shipped with Diallos. So… yeah here you go. Like if you want more :)

•First Meeting

Enira's first moment at the roundtable hold, with Melina’s help, starts with her meeting all of the members in there. All of the tarnished like her.

In between all of the people she met in there, in the she also gets to encounter someone near the fireplace that really catches her eye.

A tall, handsome man with a good looking shining armor. A man of black short curly hair and blue eyes. A man that his body shows experience but youth as well.

At first she approaches him shyly and slowly, leaving her stuff down.

Enira:Hey...

Man:Oh, hello. You must be new here. I'm... well, just call me Diallos. The honor of one's house holds little importance in these lands.

Enira:Enira. I'm a warrior of magic knowledge. But still I've found my way here. A pleasure.

Diallos smirks and keeps talking to her, about something important that he seems to be concerned about.

Diallos:By the way, have you met a young woman named Lanya in your travels?

Enira thinks about it for a moment and comes to realize that she has not heard that name before.

Enira:Lanya...? No, I don't believe so. I am sorry.

Diallos:A pity. She's my servant. But fickle as the wind. Take your eyes off her for but a moment and she's good as gone.

Enira:Haha... I have not seen her sorry.

Diallos:If you find her... please be sure to tell me. We were friends since childhood. I cannot remember the times I had to find her like this. Honestly… she’s such a little tomboy!

Enira:I hope you find her soon.

Diallos:Thank you. Have a progressive time here in the roundtable hold.

Enira gives him a last smile before she leaves his place and moves in another room.

Although the picture of this handsome man she keeps it drawn in her mind…

•One particular day...

Enira is currently spending her time resting and reading in the library, after so many hours of traveling in Limgrave. When she stays at the Roundtable Hold it is a good time to read and to memorize some of her spells.

She is currently sitting, near the fireplace of the roundtable’s library and she tries to understand more of the Carian magic.

While her focus is in the magic only, inside the room, she sees someone coming. It is Diallos walking in casually and non armored.

For some reason she always feels herself blushing and feeling nervous around him, even when they casually greet each other. But yet she tries to control it and act normal. She does not even know why she feels this way…

Enira:Hello... do you want the room, or...

Diallos:No, I am here to take something. Sorry to disturb you.

Enira though shows no sign of bother or annoyance. She welcomes him in the room with her and also shows her interest about this servant he has been searching for.

Enira:So... have you found Lanya?

Diallos:No. And I don't even know where she could go. This is starting to get on my nerves.

Enira:Maybe she left for a reason. I don't... say that this is your fault but... maybe something caught her attention and then... she stopped by.

Diallos giggles at her and takes a look of what she is reading.

Diallos:Yes, it looks like something she would do. We have been partners since childhood and we both behave still the same. Carian magic eh?

Enira:Yes. Have you ever tried it? 

Diallos:No. Magic is… strictly forbidden in my lands. It is told to be a curse upon people. We do not even consider it.

Enira can clearly see that this man has lived his life with needless superstitions so she tries to express her own opinions about the magic she has been practicing her whole life.

Enira:Any weapon can be a curse in the hands of one who cannot use it the right way.

Diallos:So you have encountered good mages?

Enira:I have met many mages... some of them are cursed, some of them are blessed.

Diallos:What were you called?

Enira:None of these. Just a stubborn sneaky witch.

Diallos laughs at her comment and approaches her as she arranges her things on the desk.

Diallos:And so? What were you doing? Before you came here?

Enira leaves down her book and starts explaining to him what she was before she became a tarnished.

Enira:Well... I was not in a family house or army like you. I worked on my own will. I was defending villages and I was releasing slaves from camps or trades.

Diallos:Those are... noble actions. Your family must have been proud.

Enira does not answer to him about this. She simply gives him a gloomy look of hers, turns her gaze around and she changes the subject.

Enira:Yes... I hope so. What about yours?

Diallos for a moment remains silent and takes the same look as hers but he responds to her, in words of shame and sadness.

Diallos:I... I do not know how to tell this but... I was always known as the "shame of the house Hoslow". My noble brother was always, mightier, brighter and stronger than me. So he was admired by everyone. I, have always been this younger boy of the family that was quick to temper, disobedient and stubborn. Even so, my brother always supported me and stood by my side. He never stopped believing in me. 

Enira:This is... good. That you have a loving brother. But I would never consider you a "shame" of your family.

Diallos:No. I mean, all I have ever succeeded is to help my brother and follow his orders. I was never even a fine warrior myself. I do not hold the techniques that my brother does.

Enira:You don't need to have your brother's techniques to have good techniques. You just may not have found your right touch in techniques. See the roundtable? They're all handling weapons. I handle magic. But... that doesn't make me any weaker or stronger. It just makes me special. Maybe you could try to find your own specialty.

Diallos:No... no I am not that special.

Enira sees the low self consciousness and the shyness he shows hearing her words but she continues to comfort him.

Enira:You just haven't found your way yet. Keep looking. I am sure you will, eventually.

Diallos smirks at the kind and wise words of Enira and he gratefully cuddles her shoulder.

Diallos:I... I appreciate these words. You are... very much kind.

And Enira gives him one last gentle smile, before someone actually calls her out of the room. It is Roderika, calling her for something.

Roderika:Enira...

When Roderika sees that the two of them are flirting feels embarrassed and little uncomfortable so she backs up, ready to get out of the door.

Roderika:Uh... I... I am sorry to interrupt...!

Enira:No, it is alright. Tell me, what is it?

Roderika:Uh... I can come later if you wish to.

Enira:Is it important?

Roderika:Uh... no. Not really. I-uh... I go back to master Hugh.

Roderika takes baby steps back of the room and Enira giggles along with Diallos at the same time at this awkward moment.

Although both of them had started to enjoy each other's company and to enjoy talking to each other.

•The loss...

As Enira keeps riding atop Torrent in the lakes amongst the fireflies there is something on the way that catches her attention for the moment...

She usually found ruins or churches but she now finds nothing. She even passes through the giant lobsters, for she has no mood for such pointless fights at the moment.

Until in a moment of her path when sees on her way, Diallos in a ruined church’s roof, kneeling and weeping over the body of a woman.

Enira does not understand what is this about so she decides to go and check it out herself. Although she has her suspicions. And those suspicions eventually come true...

Diallos:Lanya... Lanya... it's me, Diallos! Answer me would you?!

This heartbreaking sight absolutely stuns Enira and she instantly kneels near him, showing him her condolences.

Enira:No... no… I am... I am so sorry!

Diallos tries to keep himself back from crying and he holds onto Enira's shoulders.

Diallos:Enira! Tell me if you know would you? The whereabouts of the hidden house of these despicable fiends, the recusants who hunt their fellow tarnished, they lend their hands upon my servant Lanya, and I refuse to leave this insult stand. "The tale of House Hoslow is told in blood". I, Diallos, swear to deliver the message!

Enira seeing him in such distress and in tears makes her speak in her gentle kind voice. She tries her best to comfort him and to give him courage.

Enira:I... I am truly sorry! I don't know what to say... I wish I could be there earlier and... and prevent this!

Although Diallos remains there, grieving for Lanya he knows very well whose fault is this. It is not Enira who should feel guilty. It was his duty to protect her...

While she puts her gentle hand on the back of his neck and he puts his own hand on hers, as away to both share this pain of his.

Diallos:No. No... the blame is mine. Those who did this shall pay for what they have done! I swear it!

And so, after he picks up the lifeless body of his servant in his shaking hands and he leaves Enira's place, running away in absolute distress.

Enira:Diallos…!

Diallos though does not stop. He keeps walking while still holding Lanya in his arms and Enira is left there, when the rain starts to fall…

•Later

Enira has just finished another trip in Liurnia and now returns to the Roundtable Hold, all wet from the rain, exhausted and after she has discovered many new things and objects on the way.

When she walks in, she first encounters D and casts him a casual greeting.

Enira:Hello...

But when she walks towards her bedroom, she first encounters Diallos, sitting by himself in a single corner, all gloomy, grim and full of despair. He just sits by himself in a single corner and he is not seemingly willing to speak to anyone.

She understands this very well. She was there when he was weeping over Lanya's body.

Enira approaches him slowly and with compassion coming right out of her movements.

Enira:Diallos?

Diallos' thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the voice of Enira, approaching him all wet and looking eager to comfort him. He is glad to see her but still, this does not make him feel any better.

Diallos:Oh... hello. You... you are back. I... I buried Lanya. It was... not easy.

Enira:Of course it wasn’t. Would you... would you want to talk?

Diallos gives Enira a sympathetic look but then he returns back to his despair and misery.

Diallos:Nothing will come out of it. No matter what I may feel or what we say... nothing will bring Lanya back.

Enira:I know. I was not talking about that. I mean... if there is anything you want to talk about. If you ever want to talk about Lanya... I will be there for you.

Diallos stops behaving so depressed and he now expresses the rage he has been feeling.

Diallos:I cannot get the image out of my mind. It… it still haunts me. What those fiends did to Lanya… her lying dead on the ground, in blood… I cannot let this stand! She must have justice! If I do not show them what it tastes like they will never, ever stop!

Enira seeing the amount of his rage and pain held in his eyes and clenched fists, she puts her gentle hands on the back of his neck and speaks to him through her sweet, quiet voice.

Enira:Of course you keep seeing this image. I am sure that you loved Lanya. And… if you have loved her, losing her will not be an easy path to walk.

Diallos though refuses to express anything else about his feelings towards her or anyone else. He remains loyal to his rage and will for revenge, even if Enira tries to be nothing but sweet to him.

Diallos:No matter what… I will not shed any tear! I am no longer a child. I am of the house Hoslow and my tale is told in blood…!

Enira tries to restrain his fists from moving hardly and she keeps trying to comfort him, with her gentle and sweet words.

Enira:I am not a child either. But…

Enira’s voice becomes shaky for a moment as she speaks but she continues to keep the same rhythm.

Enira:… I have lost people too. To loose someone you loved… and to be forced to live with this void inside when they die is no simple. And the more you say “no” to your pain… the harder it becomes. You may hide as many tears you want but it will not make you any stronger. Trust me…

Diallos, although still proceeds in this stubbornness and refusal, is obviously not able to hide the pain…

The tears already develop in his blue eyes and in Enira this is not even a shame.

Diallos:I… I used to hear those kind of words from my brother once. But I never believed I would hear them again. Whenever I speak to you… I forget that I am the shame of the House Hoslow…!

Enira lets him to freely shed as many tears as he wants to. She continues to hold his hand tightly in a gentle way and to smile at him in comfort.

Enira:If you are considered the shame of the house Hoslow then with all due respect… screw the house Hoslow. I believe that even Lanya saw something in you that others could not see. Only when you find your own path… you will truly make her proud.

Diallos giggles in between his upcoming sobbing as Enira offers him her open arms for a hug.

After processing her wise words, allows her to hold him and finally allows himself to embrace and accept his feelings. It is truly no shame to feel pain. He indeed loved Lanya and he indeed now is in pain. Enira is someone who feels pity but not shame for him.

What does he have to lose if simply expresses himself?

After Enira covers him with her warm gentle arms he finally releases the pain, the tears and some soft sobbing on her shoulder. It was pathetic yes and it was worth puttying. A knight, a man of the house Hoslow and in armor to weep in the arms of a woman.

But this feeling of someone like Enira accepting who he is, is something that sets him loose. He simply releases every emotion he has on her shoulders and he keeps embracing him and cuddling him, for as long as he may need to…

[tellurian-in-aristasia]

How Other Researchers Can Help

I got a question about this a few days back, and I've been thinking about it a bit more. The more people researching Chelouranya, Aristasian, Romantia, and Lux Madriana the merrier. And there are certainly some things that exist out there in Tellurian that I just can't get my hands on, due to the fact I don't live on the same continent. I would definitely suggest making a Tumblr side blog and just adding the appropriate tags and tossing whatever you find out into the ether. If you tag it with Aristasia, I'll certainly see it.

The following list will hopefully be helpful in finding those lost bits of history, both for digital researchers, as well as researchers in the real word (the physical, right-now, tellurian real world, not the other type):

❧ Finding archives of lost websites, or even fragments of websites and forum discussions that are still online.

❧ Even just digging through the archives of known Aristasian websites for interesting bits of discussion is useful! If you don't know where to start, the archived Aristasian Preservation Project page is a good place.

❧ If you're in the UK, there's still hope that some old Madrian literature is out there, gathering dust in used book stores. Even if you're not in the UK, we know for a fact we know for a fact that many of their publications were sent all over the world!

❧ If you're near Glasgow, there is the Glasgow Woman's Library that has the full Artemis run. They're currently unable to digitize it, but allow researchers to view their archive in person, and are fine with you making copies of snapping photos of pages (at least they were the last time I messaged them!). You could be the heroine that puts these volumes online for the first time ever!

❧ If you're in the US, and have access to a college library, there are a handful of colleges that have Artemis listed in their LGBT+ archives. These may be the already archived copies (vol 5 and 6), or they may not be, it's hard to tell from just the online listings.

❧ The more eyes looking for related books, magazines, and even news broadcasts the better. The following media have been mentioned before, in some relation to Aristasia, but no known copies are archived online, or readily available to be purchased. These may have useful information, or it may just be a rehash of what we know already. We simply have to find them first to discover that: ➳➳ Joanne Carminhow, The Light of the Goddess: Lux Madriana

➳➳ Original Rhennish language copy of The Crystal Tablet March 1982's Behind The Veil broadcast

➳➳ 1988's Issue 9 of Odin magazine with an article by Wolfheim Coll, who was the lone male of the original 4 Madrian founders.

❧ There are also some much more vague periodicals out there that may, possibly, mention the girls from Aristasia because they previously were mentioned in similar magazines, so it's with poking around if you happen to stumble across any of the following: ➳➳ British computer game magazines from about 1984-1987 that may feature interviews with any of the St. Bride's girls. Pagan or Goddess magazines published in Oxford from 1975-1977ish that may mention the beginnings of Lux Madriana

➳➳ Hebden Bridge newspapers from 1981-1982 when there were several Madrian households in Hebden Bridge and they frequently appeared in local newspapers.

➳➳ Late 1970s to early 1980s new age, feminist, and pagan resource listings. Many of the different projects that Lux Madriana can be found in these.

➳➳ Late 1980s to late 1990s fetish and alternative lifestyle resource listings. This appeared to be the start of their active, not just accidental, involvement in the fetish scene. It's rumored that they advertised their services in the late 90s in adult magazines, and we can find evidence of them advertising such things during the Wildfire Club era.

If you're doing digital searches, there's a seemingly infinite list of search terms that will bring up results that may be related, and these include the unusual nom de plums used by the Madrians, the known phone numbers and addresses they used in their advertisements and published correspondence, as well as unusual terms that they frequently used. At some point I will make a list of some of the terms I search for.

[berix2010]

Anyone who buys a Pixel 9 — the latest model of Google’s flagship phone, available starting this week — will have access to the easiest, breeziest user interface for top-tier lies, built right into their mobile device. This is all but certain to become the norm, with similar features already available on competing devices and rolling out on others in the near future. When a smartphone “just works,” it’s usually a good thing; here, it’s the entire problem in the first place.

Photography has been used in the service of deception for as long as it has existed. (Consider Victorian spirit photos, the infamous Loch Ness monster photograph, or Stalin’s photographic purges of IRL-purged comrades.) But it would be disingenuous to say that photographs have never been considered reliable evidence. Everyone who is reading this article in 2024 grew up in an era where a photograph was, by default, a representation of the truth. A staged scene with movie effects, a digital photo manipulation, or more recently, a deepfake — these were potential deceptions to take into account, but they were outliers in the realm of possibility. It took specialized knowledge and specialized tools to sabotage the intuitive trust in a photograph. Fake was the exception, not the rule.

This erosion of the social consensus began before the Pixel 9, and it will not be carried forth by the Pixel 9 alone. Still, the phone’s new AI capabilities are of note not just because the barrier to entry is so low, but because the safeguards we ran into were astonishingly anemic. The industry’s proposed AI image watermarking standard is mired in the usual standards slog, and Google’s own much-vaunted AI watermarking system was nowhere in sight when The Verge tried out the Pixel 9’s Magic Editor. The photos that are modified with the Reimagine tool simply have a line of removable metadata added to them. (The inherent fragility of this kind of metadata was supposed to be addressed by Google’s invention of the theoretically unremovable SynthID watermark.) Google told us that the outputs of Pixel Studio — a pure prompt generator that is closer to DALL-E — will be tagged with a SynthID watermark; ironically, we found the capabilities of the Magic Editor’s Reimagine tool, which modifies existing photos, were much more alarming.

We briefly lived in an era in which the photograph was a shortcut to reality, to knowing things, to having a smoking gun. It was an extraordinarily useful tool for navigating the world around us. We are now leaping headfirst into a future in which reality is simply less knowable. The lost Library of Alexandria could have fit onto the microSD card in my Nintendo Switch, and yet the cutting edge of technology is a handheld telephone that spews lies as a fun little bonus feature. We are fucked.

[veronicaleighauthor]

A Room of One's Own

I’m not a fan of Virginia Woolf… I’ve tried to pick up “Mrs. Dalloway” numerous times and couldn’t get into it. Maybe one of these days I’ll be able to read it and enjoy it. Sometimes it takes me a few tries to get into a piece of classic lit. Anyway, she wrote an essay called “A Room of One’s Own” in which she theorized: “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction. And in a sense that must be true. To have complete and singular devotion to your piece of fiction, you ideally do need financial security and a place to shut yourself away. Although, I have to say, I’ve written plenty of novels, short stories, and essays in the chaos of my living room. The chaos feeds my madness which in turn feeds my creativity.

Last week, my cat Ty didn’t feel too well and we have been keeping him in our little library, away from the other cat and the dog. Ty is fine, he needs an antibiotic and should be all right in a few days. Anyway, back to this library. We technically call this room our Cat Library because while we store our books in here, our cats have taken it over and made it their play room. We also have a desk and an old secretary chair (my grandmother *found* the chair when the department store she worked for in the 1960s closed down) near the window that looks out onto the street. We have bookcases (one or two grandma also *found*) for our menagerie of books. It’s a nice little set up and perfect room for writing, though I haven’t used it much for that.

Well, since my cat has been sick and he is in this room, and since I had a day off, I decided to do today’s writing in this room. I should have focused on a short story…but I didn’t. With Ty’s special help, I began on the Regency novel that I’ve been outlining since last Christmas. I completed the first scene.

It’s a first draft, so it’s really terrible. But when you write a novel – or anyone – you have to get the terrible writing out of your system before you can transform it into something good. Right now, I plan to work on this title-less WIP bit by bit. I’m putting no deadlines on myself, just doing one scene at a time until I feel the draft is finished. I have no plans to show it to anyone (except maybe my sister) until God knows when. For the first time in a long time writing is fun again. With this novel, it hasn’t been a chore, nor do a feel like I’m cranking out stories like a mindless machine. I figure I’ll go back and forth between this WIP and the short stories I write.

This Regency novel has been a little bit of a comfort to me because the Great Depression novel I submitted for publication was rejected. I was pretty sad about it, but life, using this Cat Library for writing, and this new novel has distracted me from it.

Do you have a place to go to? To write? Or read? Or to find a little peace from the world?

[pagetreader]

"I've come to pay my respects,” he answered lowly, “Surely, that isn't a crime? And most especially, when it's towards the man for whom I lost my livelihood."

It was no secret what he’d done to protect her brother’s memory. When Louisa had heard about it, she thought of writing to him, but ultimately decided against it, believing that her correspondence would only serve to upset him in some way. He didn’t need further reminders of their mistakes. 

“Of course not,” she replied, cautiously closing the gap between them and kneeling to place the bouquet on the marker. For a moment it was quiet, all but the distant sounds of birdcalls carried by the wind. 

“What you did…the things you said…” she began, unable to conjure the right words to express her gratitude, “Thank you…for defending him. It means more than you could possibly know.” 

"Every great triumph comes at an equally great cost. I hope you know that your brother's death has long since haunted me...and not just because of the stripes upon my back." 

Louisa grimaced at the thought of the scars he permanently bore because of her cruel spite. 

"In another life, we could have been friends. Despite our political differences, I sensed a kinship and respect that's rarely found in another man…”

“Your friend Hamilton wrote, ‘Never perhaps did any man suffer death with more justice, or deserve it less.’ He has a gift with words…and a flare for the dramatics, even for the topic of death. Still, Andre would have commended him – and I believe he commended you as well…” 

“I spoke with him before his death and found nothing but admiration. And in a way, with so much distance between myself and the fighting, it can be difficult to remember why his death was necessary."

His admittance caused her heartache. 

"Traitor! Turncoat!"

Before Louisa could so much as react, a rock struck Tallmadge as several civilians neared them, indistinctly spitting their scorn and jeering with raised fists. Louisa put her hands on his shoulders, intending to quickly assess the damage but was instead taken by the hand. 

"Come with me. You can hate me all you wish, but at least let me help you out of here!"

“We’ll go to my house. It isn’t far,” she insisted, “Down that street there. Let’s hurry.” 

–

Louisa’s home, referred to by the locals as “Joy’s End,” was perhaps at one time a lovely home that one of financial wealth could be proud of, but the outside had since become shabby and the surrounding flora chaotically overgrown as though it were settled in dingy swampland rather than a quaint hamlet. Inside her home there was a sitting room, a dining room, the kitchen, and upstairs were two bedrooms and a library. Every room was dark, curtains shut tight, and inaccessible to natural light, as though it were perpetually night. 

Other than a maid who would come to clean twice a week, Louisa hadn’t hosted a single person in her home. No one would dare walk the halls that belonged to a British woman who had hoped for the Americans to lose their war, let alone be kind as she lived to take advantage of the freedoms they fought for. It mattered not if they knew her reasoning. They didn’t care, but truthfully, she didn’t either. 

Let them talk and spread their false rumors and accusations. Louisa didn’t need them. The only people she cared to speak to were either across the sea or buried six feet deep. 

Once the tea was boiled, she poured him a cup, took her place beside him on the cabriole, and took a better look at his wound, a fine diagonal cut along his right eyebrow. Thankfully, it hadn’t done damage to his eye.  

“The good news is I don’t believe you’ll need stitching, but please let me know if you suddenly feel woozy or ill.”

The years that followed were not kind. Despite giving his everything -- blood, sweat, tears, family and friends to the Cause, his fellow countrymen did not deign him worthy of the same respect. Or at least, not after his so-called betrayal.

In the matter of awarding John Andre's captors, Benjamin could not remain silent. No, he spoke out, and quite vociferously, about how they were not men of honor, but thieves. He could not forget how one of the so-called heroes had been wearing Andre's boots upon his arrest. That wasn't an act of valor, but cowardice and self-gain.

Despite the motion being made in Benjamin's favor, the social verdict was far different. He was no longer welcome at parties, greeted congenially in the streets, nor granted the joys of teaching children -- no, his students were ripped right from his clutches, forcing his own schoolhouse to go into ruin. He'd once erected each board himself, and it pained him to have to forever close its doors. After the dissolvement of his financials, Benjamin had no choice but to sell the building to stay afloat.

Several months later, he barely owned a shilling to his name, and only found himself supported by the few friends who dared keep his company. This was why, he supposed, he found himself drawn back to where his ruin all began -- to the man whose end he'd ultimately caused, but now found himself brought to an end, as well.

Standing over top of Major Andre's grave, a solemn comradery could be felt within Benjamin's bones. Even now, he did not wish ill will towards the man. He would not have done anything differently, nor would he have retracted his statement against Andre's captors. Justice, after all, could only truly be determined in the eyes of the Lord.

“What are you doing here?”

The light crunch of shoes against leaves rose above the stillness, but Benjamin did not lift his head -- or at least, not until he recognized her voice -- and slowly, he turned to regard Louisa over his shoulder. His heart twinged at the sight of her standing there, bedecked in mourning-wear even now, so, so many years after her brother's death. It was not suitable to still be closed off to marriage and social mingling, but Benjamin did not blame her for this since he, too, felt as if he were in a perpetual state of mourning.

Turning away, Benjamin lowly replied, "I've come to pay my respects. Surely, that isn't a crime? And most especially, when it's towards the man for whom I lost my livelihood."

Tracing his gaze along the marker, which had clearly been defiled, cleaned, and then defiled again, Benjamin softly offered, "Every great triumph comes at an equally great cost. I hope you know that your brother's death has long since haunted me...and not just because of the stripes upon my back." He exhaled, tucking a hand into his pocket. "In another life, we could have been friends. Despite our political differences, I sensed a kinship and respect that's rarely found in another man... I spoke with him before his death, and found nothing but admiration. And in a way, with so much distance between myself and the fighting, it can be difficult to remember why his death was necessary."

"Traitor! Turncoat!"

Whirling about, Benjamin spun just in time to be struck by a hefty rock. A couple of angry civilians were quickly approaching, and gritting his teeth, he took Louisa's hand and entreated, "Come with me. You can hate me all you wish, but at least let me help you out of here!"

[hiddens-eden]

The Last Tune (Emmett Cullen x Male!Reader) Pt 1

Paring; Emmett Cullen x Male Reader + Cullen Family x Male Reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: Cursing, Abuse, Tramua, Angst

Pronouns; He/Him

Spelling checked; No

Summary; Y/N is a quiet boy that's had his fair share of physical and emotional trauma, so he loves to keep to himself. He barely interacts with anyone unless needed and prefers to listen to music and sketch in peace. So imagine his surprise when some of the most popular kids in school want to be around him! They heard him singing along with his music and were immediately entranced. One of them in particular has his eyes set on him. Though, they are not the only ones who have an interest in Y/N.

A/N; Hello, my little Otaku's! Welcome to my first fic! I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! Just be kind! I'm sorry if it seems at all rushed! On my next stories I do plan on switching PoV's so it'll be easier to write and more entertaining. Enjoy!

"Who are they?"a dark haired girl asked her friend that was sitting just across from their lunch table

"Those are some of the most popular people in school, the Cullen's. Not only are they hot as hell, but they're charming to boot! They do disappear for long periods of time, which gives them an air of mystery."

At the Cullen's table, they softly chuckled at the description the new girl was given. After all, it's only natural considering what they are. They are a being talked about in many fantasy tales. Known for their taste for blood. Vampires, a creature of the night that feasts on humans. However, they in particular don't drink human blood

They went back to softly talking to each other, but a few minutes later something caught their attention. A soft voice echoed in their eardrums. It was enchanting and beautiful, it was like nothing they've ever heard of. They all simultaneously started looking around for the source of the pleasant sound when the new girl asked about someone else.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a boy sat by himself

"Oh! That's (Y/N), (L/N)! He doesn't talk much, but when he does, you can't help but feel so tranquil and at peace!"

That caught the vampire's attention, and they whipped their heads to where the brunette was pointing. Noticing that that was where the sound is coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"His voice is so soft, like silk! But it has a sort of firmness to it! That's not the only thing, though. He is so kind, adorable, and smart as well! He even helps who ask for him to tutor them. His personality makes everyone want to be around him!"

That rose some questions in the vampires heads. If he is that well-liked, why is no one sitting near him?

"Then why is he alone?"

~The vampires will have to thank the new girl for asking so many questions~

"Well, whenever people come near him, he gets anxious and tries to get away as soon as possible. Someone grabbed him on accident, and he started having a panic attack, falling to the ground, and hyperventilating."

The Cullen's were a little shocked when they heard this. That wasn't normal for sure

"Holy shit. Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was sent home early. But, some students saw his face as he was leaving and said that he looked terrified. We think something is going on where he lives, though we can't know for sure" she shrugged

"Once he came to school the next day, he was wearing long-sleeves. I thought it was weird considering he never wore them before, but the rest of the school shrugged it off as it being in the winter months making it reasonable. The person apologized the next day and (Y/N) just said it was fine, and he just likes being alone, so now that's what we do"

Right when the girl finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Making everyone get up and start to throw away their trash and head to class. All except one person...

"I don't think he heard the bell" Emmett said

"Gee, none of us would've guessed!" Rosalie responded, causing the other Cullen's to chuckle

Suddenly, Jasper's sight shifted to his wife Alice because he felt her stiffening up, a tell-tale sign of her power activating. The other vampires looked at her as well, waiting for her to relay what she saw. After a little bit she came to and, slowly, turned to Emmett grinning

"Emmett, why don't you go over and tell him class is about to start? Maybe even ask him to tutor you! We all know you need it." she remarked, still grinning

Starting to understand why she was acting like the way she was, Emmett sighed, wanting to protest, but he knew Alice's visions almost always came true, or they would end at the same conclusion.

He made his way over to where the boy was sitting

"Remember not to grab him!" Alice semi-shouted from where she was standing

Emmett waved her off, still approaching (Y/N)

He gently tapped (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the smaller boy jump in surprise and what Emmett can only assume is fear

(Y/N) turned his head around fast enough to give him whiplash and that's when he met the golden eyes of the person that startled him

He took his earbud out before speaking, "I-Is there s-something I can do for you?" (Y/N) asked shakily

Emmett stood there for a moment. He had never seen someone so hot and cute at the same time. The girl was right, too. His voice is the embodiment of angelic. Emmett took this chance to take in all the boys features, from his soft (S/C) skin that reflected the light of the cafeteria. To his intoxicating (E/C) eyes that he could get lost in over and over again. Emmett felt a small pull to (Y/N), and he knew exactly what it meant.

“H-hello? Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked

“I-I um…class is about to start…”

(Y/N) looked at the time and blushed

“So it is…” (Y/N) stood up and started collecting his things “T-thanks for letting me know” (Y/N) stood to leave but was stopped as Emmett stood in front of him

“I was wondering if you could help me study for chemistry? I’m currently failing” Emmett chuckled, rubbing the back of his head

"I-I don't mind, where should we meet?"

"How about the Library after school?"

(Y/N) smiled the slightest bit "Sounds good, now if you don't mind I need to get to class" and with that (Y/N) left the cafeteria heading to his next class. Emmett slowly rejoined his family, still in awe from the recent interaction.

Jasper grinned from the emotions Emmett was emulating

"It seems Emmett is very interested in that guy"

"Hell yeah I am! Did you see him?!"

"We did" Edward answered him, "But"

"But what?" Emmett asked

"I can't read his mind, same with the new girl"

"Does that mean they're a supernatural?" Rosalie asked

"No, they aren't. The new girl is a weird case, but (Y/N) seems to just have fantastic mental walls and barriers. Which is concerning..."

"Then I'll have to break them" Emmett smirked

The rest of the Cullen's let out a collective sigh as they made their way to their respective classes. Still wondering what was going on with the mysterious (Y/N).

The final bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Students started to funnel out of their classes and into the hallways. Emmett was waiting outside (Y/N)'s classroom, ready to head to the library.

After waiting awhile of waiting, (Y/N) came out of the classroom books and binder in hand

"Hey"

(Y/N) jumped and turned around to see Emmett, a look of relief claimed his face

"You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah"

As they made their way to the library, they made some just talked about their interests and things of that nature, eventually arriving at their destination. After they settled in their seats with the necessary books, they started the study session.

Emmett found it cute, they way (Y/N) would nervously try and help him understand the complex formula's and equations. After a few explanations, (Y/N) sat down and started to work on his homework. Unconsciously, (Y/N) started to sing to himself, making Emmett perk up and look at him.

"You're a good singer"

(Y/N) blushed, "Thanks...but others don't think so..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Emmett stood up, causing (Y/N) to jump a little, "Your voice is amazing!"

(Y/N) blushed at the praise he was given. He'd never been complimented before, so this was new to him.

"Thank you" (Y/N) smiled, making Emmett's cold and dead heart swell with something he's never felt before

"N-no problem" Emmett said before sitting down, and starting to work again, still thinking of that cute-ass smile

Soon, the sun started to set and that was their cue to wrap things up.

"Could you tutor me again tomorrow? If you're free, that is" Emmett asked

"Sure, I should be open. Meet here after school?"

"Deal"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett before walking to his place

To say Emmett was giddy is an understatement. He was over the moon. Not only did he get to be tutored by his adorable mate, but he also got him to open up and be more relaxed around him! He made his way back to his own house and entered with his head still stuck in the clouds. Unaware of the fact that the whole family was sitting in the living room

"It seems that Emmett had an amazing time" Jasper couldn't help but let out his own smile from Emmett's emotions

"Something good happen, Emmett?" Carlisle asked, intrigued by Jasper's comment

"I think he's the one"

"The One?" Esme questioned

Alice snickered, clearly happy that her vision seemed to have came true

"My mate" Emmett replied, still thinking about the fun time he had studying with (Y/N)

"Congrats!! But, make sure you claim him before anyone else!" Esme explained

"He's not an object, Esme" Carlisle chastised

"I know, but humans may not understand their feelings"

"I just have to take things slow. I don't want to scare him off"

~Next Day at School~

"Hey (Y/N)!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Emmett!" (Y/N) smiled sweetly

As Emmett got closer to (Y/N) he noticed a very distinct smell coming from the boy. "(Y/N) are you alright?" he asked concern lacing his voice

(Y/N) visibly tensed and started to shake slightly. "U-um ye-yeah? I'm f-fine"

Emmett was less than convinced. He needed to know who or what hurt his mate, so he could end it's pitiful existence, then and there. Though, he decided not to add anymore fuel to the fire...yet.

"If you say so. We should head to to class"

"Yeah"

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you still want to, then yes" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett causing him to absolutely gush at his adorableness

"Yep! Totally!" (Y/N) chuckled at Emmett's response

While heading to class they just talked about whatever was on their minds. Well, mostly Emmett since (Y/N) is a closed off little bean <3. But, that didn't stop either of them from enjoying themselves. Even once they where in class they softly whispered to each other. Their teacher didn't care much because (Y/N) is a model student and Emmett is a popular kid (you know those teachers that try and get in with the cool kids? Yeah, that's their teacher). When they went their seperate way's for their second block (Y/N) though that was it, like all of the other people he's tutored. He just thought Emmett was being kind and he'd see him after school for their study session. But he was proven wrong at lunchtime.

(Y/N) was eating by himself at a table listening to music and singing along softly when he felt vibrations coming from next to him. He looked over to not only see Emmett, but the whole Cullen entourage in tow. He was shocked to say the very least.

"Can we sit here?"

Collecting himself he responded with a soft "Yeah". The Cullen's then sat down, Emmett sitting on your right and Alice on your left. She squealed and looked twoards you "I've wanted to actually talk to you for a while now! Emmett talks about you and your singing too! I hope I can hear you one day!" This, this was how (Y/N).exe has stopped working. You where an embarassed blushing mess while looking at Emmett in mock betrayal. 'He talks about me?' you thought. He just smirked enjoying your cuteness.

"Ahh!!! He's soo adorable!!" Now you were a even darker red. Only provoking Alice more as she got slightly closer to you. You were about to curl in on yourself when you felt that you were being griped by the waist and pulled into a solid chest.

"Alice, your going to make him explode" Emmett said slightly, just slightly defensive

She laughed "My my what about you then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look down, bonehead" Rosalie butted in amused

Emmett did what she said and saw you an absolute wreck. If a cherry was a person it would be you at this point-

Now he was trying to compose himself. The sight of both of you made everyone at the table start chuckling. After that whole fiasco you got to know Emmett's family and started to enjoy their presence. Something you never really had the pleasure of experiencing...

Over the next few weeks, Emmett did everything he could to be even remotely close to (Y/N). They would do studying sessions at the library, and after they would get something to eat. Well, only (Y/N) did. He thought it was weird Emmett never ate anything, but Emmett assured (Y/N) that he was eating well. They would often go to parks and just have fun too. However, all fun things come to an end. When one day (Y/N) didn't show up to school. Emmett just thought (Y/N) got a cold, but soon days turned to weeks and he was getting worried. He didn't know where (Y/N) lived so he couldn't go to his house and see if he was alright, but one day Carlise came home a little later than usual which was not unnoticed by his family.

"You're back late" Esme commented

"Well there is a teenager in critical condition. He came in with severe lacerations all over his body and what seemed to be marks of repeated tramua as well. He came in a couple of weeks ago and was in a coma until he flatlined earlier this morning" Carlise took off his doctor coat and placed it on the chair making his way to Esme. As he stood next to her he looked over to see his "children" with wide eyes

"Is something wrong?" Carlise asked a bit worried

"When did that patient come into the hospital?" Emmett asked urgently

"(Date). Why?"

With that all of the vampires stood up and started to get ready to go to the hospital

"What's wrong? Where are you guys going?" Esme asked

"That's most likely my mate" Emmett replied, making it clear he was irritated

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Esme rushed everyone out the door and to the hospital

At the hospital, they made their way to the room (Y/N) was at. Once there, Carlisle motioned for Emmett to enter first. Emmett went in and was shocked by what he saw. (Y/N) had many tubes attached to him. His body was wrapped in bandages and his breathing was hitching. Emmett walked over to the resting (Y/N) and reached out for his hand, grasping it softly. He rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a reassuring manner, then sat down next to the bed, still holding (Y/N)'s hand. He could only think about how much he failed his mate. How could he let this happen? He knew there was something going on, but he did nothing? He turned a blind eye to it all. How can he face (Y/N) when he wakes up? Emmett's thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Emmett replied

"I'm (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

With that, Emmett's world stopped. Boyfriend? How? Why? Was I to late? Emmett turned to (Y/N) conflicted, but that's when he saw the heart monitor. His heart rate was not that high a while ago.

"Can you leave me with my boyfriend?" (B/F/N) asked harshly

Emmett reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door, but not before taking one last look at (Y/N). Once he was out of the room, Emmett started walking down the hallway back to his family.

"Who was that guy that went in there?" Rosalie went up to Emmett

"Apparently, he's (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

The Cullen's looked at Emmett in sadness and pity, but they noticed something

"You don't seem that bothered about it" Jasper said

"Well, before he came in, (Y/N)'s heart rate was normal, but when he spoke his heart rate rose"

"So, you think-"

"Yeah, his 'boyfriend' must've done that to him"

"That's awful" Esme covered her mouth in shock

"We can't really do anything if we don't have proof though" Alice said irritated

"Then we'll just have to get some" Emmett smirked, making the other Cullen's nod

They made their plan's and put them on hold until you were sent home. In the meantime, Emmett came to visit whenever your 'boyfriend' was never there and if he was, Carlisle was keeping a closer eye on you than normal. He also noticed that (B/F/N) would only ever sit in the chair across the room and when he would glance at you a look of disgust would be present on his face. This further solidified his resolve to get you out of that situation.

~A few days later while Emmett is visiting you~

"We're going to help you (Y/N), Everything will be better soon" Emmett reassured the sleeping male whilst holding his hand. He then felt (Y/N) clench his hand and looked up to see those beautiful (E/C) orbs opening

"Em-"

"Shh, don't strain yourself yet" Emmett stood up and pressed the 'call' button just above (Y/N)'s head before sitting back down

"Where-"

"The hospital...can you tell me what happened to you?"

After a brief pause, (Y/N) shook his ever so slightly

"That's fine, just tell me when you're ready" Emmett smiled sweetly. He saw (Y/N)'s face contort into sadness as he started crying. "I-I'm sorry f-for worrying you" (Y/N) choked out between sobs. Emmett couldn't see him cry like this, so he started to comfort and reassure the other male. "You'll be okay...I won't let you get hurt anymore..."

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts! Sorry it took way longer than I said! I will now be working on the requests I have gotten and a new series I've conjured up ;)By my little Otaku's!!

[gavin-plz-call-me]

The Brothers + Dateables & Luke react to MC owning a cat named lucifer

A/N- To attempt to avoid confusion, the demon Lucifer’s name will always be capitalized, while the cat lucifer’s name will never be capitalized.

~

“Now,” Diavolo said, obviously nearing the end of his speech, “Do you have any more questions, MC?”

You nod, “Is my cat up there all by himself?” you ask, “I don’t want him to get lonely, and without me he wont have anyone to feed him.”

The men, no, the demons in front of you stared, all obviously dumbstruck. You had been ripped out of your home, brought to a strange place, and told you were to live here for a year, and your first thought was of your cat? What a strange human you were.

“We can arrange someone to take care of your cat,” Diavolo said, smiling wide, but your face fell at his words. Diavolo seemed to sense your discontent as he spoke again, “Or we can arrange for your cat to be brought here?”

“Yes, please,” you spoke almost immediately.

Diavolo called for a demon named Barbatos, telling him to go to the human world to retrieve your cat. He disappeared then reappeared in a matter of seconds, your cat laying comfortably in his arms.

“Oh, lucifer,” You cooed, taking your cat away from Barbatos, kissing the cat’s forehead.

The hall went silent once again, before someone, the demon they introduced as Asmodeus, spoke up, “Honey, that’s Barbatos.” He said, a slight chuckle laced within the words.

Confused, you glance back up at the hall of demons, you point to your cat, “No? His name is lucifer.”

Lucifer

Can't decide if he's confused or insulted.

He's confused because, who the hell would someone name a cat of all things after a demon

and he's insulted because WHO THE HELL WOULD NAME A CAT AFTER HIM?

He's one of the strongest Demons in the Devildom, much stronger than a mere housecat, the insinuation that he, Lucifer, avatar of pride, shares anything in common with a cat has him fuming.

Of course, he shows none of these emotions outwardly, keeping his face stoic as always.

And any one of his brothers who dare joke about this cat's name will be hanged from the ceiling in a matter of seconds.

Is fairly annoyed with their shared name in day-to-day life, and not just because it's insulting.

But, many times a day, Lucifer'll hear his name called through the halls and, when he goes to investigate, one of his brothers is cooing over the damned pun intended cat.

Will eventually get used to lucifer and will definitely be seen cuddling with him.

Is like the dad who insists he doesn't want a cat, but as soon as he gets one they're inseparable.

At the end of the day, he loves that damn cat.

Mammon

Laughs out loud at the revelation that the cat's name is lucifer.

Until he realizes now he has to look after the human and the cat.

Will complain about it in typical Mammon fashion, but he warms up to lucifer about as quickly as he warms up to you.

Buys him a bunch of cat toys when he has the grimm, and loves to play with him

especially with a laser pointer.

Also loves to cuddle, but always acts very tsundere about it.

"What is it lucifer? Oh, of course, you want to cuddle with the Great Mammon."

Will either steal lucifer from your room at night, or sleep in your room to cuddle with him and totally not you, of course, but you should be honored he's even sleeping in your room.

Leviathan

Thinks it's hilarious as well.

Though he prefers anime, Levi is well versed in other human media, especially classic Disney films, so, because of Cinderella, he's well aware that lucifer is a popular cat name in the human realm.

That doesn't make it any less funny, though.

WILL NOT allow lucifer into his room.

He has too many expensive figurines to risk it

Plus, he doesn't want to risk Henry 2.0 getting hurt.

Will only play with, pet, or cuddle with lucifer if he initiates it.

"He probably doesn't want to be pet by a gross otaku like me," as if cats know what otakus are.

Will, at some point, sew lucifer a costume that looks suspiciously like what his older brother tends to wear.

He may or may not have been hanged for that one, but it was totally worth it.

Satan

Like Lucifer, Satan is conflicted.

On one hand, cat! He loves cats, he wants to pet this cat all day, and give him kisses and cuddles and love.

On the other hand, Satan would rather his soul be ripped apart than give love to something named after Lucifer.

Will try his hardest to completely ignore the cat's existence.

Has to leave the room if lucifer comes in because he can't trust himself to not pet him.

Is like this with lucifer until he sees him respond to the name luci as well.

After that, you cannot separate Satan from lucifer even if you tried.

Spoils him rotten.

The two are often found reading together in the library, Satan leisurely petting lucifer.

Fights with Mammon at least once a day for lucifer and always wins.

Goes on long rants about how cat lucifer is much better in every way than demon Lucifer.

Asmodeus

Another one who thinks it's hilarious.

Definitely thinks lucifer is cute but hates all the shedding, so he usually keeps his distance.

Like Levi, Asmo doesn't allow lucifer in his room.

Will constantly complain about fur getting all over his clothes.

Has had to buy more lint rollers in the first year you spent in the Devildom than he had bought in the last century.

Constantly posts pictures of lucifer on his Devilgram because, despite being a furry monster, he is just the cutest little kitten around.

Beelzebub

Thinks the name is a bit weird but accepts it pretty quickly.

It's just a name, after all, lots of people who are very different share names.

lucifer's food has to be hidden from Beel because he can, and will, eat it.

"It just smelled so good, and I was so hungry."

Apologizes by buying him some luxury cat treats that took all of Bee's willpower not to eat on the way home.

At first, he won't interact with lucifer unless lucifer approaches him.

Beel is so big, and lucifer is so small, he doesn't want to crush the little cat.

But with enough time and reinforcement, Beel will pick lucifer up himself for some much-needed cuddles.

Before Belphie comes down from the attic, Beel'll bring lucifer up to their room at night when he's feeling a bit more lonely than usual.

Beel will invite you up to his room as well.

Belphegor

Finds out about lucifer after everyone else, due to the whole, being locked in the attic, thing.

Hears Asmo trying to coax lucifer into a good pose from down the hall.

"Oh lucifer, cutie pie, you gotta look at the camera."

Is surprised that Asmo is still alive talking to Lucifer like that.

Is even more surprised when he turns the corner to find Asmo talking to a cat, not his eldest brother.

Thinks it's hilarious, but Lucifer is already over it so teasing him about it doesn't do much.

Won't actively seek out lucifer's attention, but will gladly nap with him.

Beel continues his habit of bringing lucifer up to their room for cuddles when Belphie returns, so the three of them usually end up in a big cuddle pile.

Bonus points if he brings you up too.

Diavolo

Thinks it's very amusing.

Laughs about it, probably for a bit too long.

He can't help it, especially because he knows Lucifer is most definitely a bit upset about it.

Will tease Lucifer once or twice about it, but will ultimately leave it alone.

When he visits the House of Lamentation, he'll give lucifer a nice pat, hello, but won't go very far beyond that.

Barbatos

Read lucifer's name tag while he was collecting him from the human realm.

Wasn't surprised in the slightest because nothing ever surprises him

Is definitely excited to see everyone's reactions to his name, and is not disappointed.

If given the chance, he will spend hours brushing lucifer's fur and pampering him

but doesn't get the chance to do so often, if ever.

Solomon

Has had a cat named lucifer in the past.

I mean, he's lived hundreds of years, it's not out of the realm of possibilities.

Named his own cat lucifer because he thought it was funny, and the humor hasn't faded since.

So he's very amused by this new lucifer in his life.

Will unabashedly cuddle and play with lucifer whenever he's given the chance.

I mean, this lucifer reminds him of his own cat, so he becomes pretty attached pretty quickly.

Whenever he visits the House of Lamentation, he'll hold lucifer until the very last minute he possibly can, and will be pretty sad when he has to leave.

Will joke about stealing lucifer, may actually try to steal him.

Simeon

Like Levi, Simeon is pretty well versed in human media, so the concept of cats named lucifer isn't new to him.

Still finds it a bit funny nonetheless.

Tells Michael right away.

Likes cats well enough, and, when he's in the House of Lamentation, will seek out a few pets from the kitten

but he doesn't venture to the House of Lamentation too often, so he never grows too close to lucifer.

Luke

WHY? WOULD YOU NAME A CAT? AFTER A DEMON?

There are so many better names for a cat!

Like whiskers, or oreo, or simba.

Is genuinely confused, and maybe even a bit concerned.

He's afraid you were consorting with demons before coming to the Devildom and that's why you named him lucifer.

After his brief stay in the House of Lamentation, Luke is absolutely in love with lucifer.

Plays with him constantly.

Wants to pick him up, but doesn't know how to.

Luke will end up getting scratched eventually, but Luke forgives him.

Bakes lucifer special cat treats and hopes you'll let him feed lucifer one.

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

The diaboys reacting to a boy forcefully kissing their s/o female x reader

❌Trigger Warning!❌ There is non-consensual kissing and aggressive flirting. The kisses are very short and it doesn’t go further than a kiss but if non-consensual kisses and aggressive flirting make you uncomfortable or trigger you or bother you in any way, you may not want to read after the cut :)

Shu

——-

The hallway was deserted, he had you cornered against a wall. “I really like you.” The boy said, his arms caging you in. You laughed nervously. “Thank you, but I actually have a boyfriend.” “He doesn’t need to know.” The boy said, moving his head closer to you, putting you nose to nose. “No, thank you!” You pulled back and tried to duck under one of his arms but he quickly grabbed your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You shoved at his chest but less than a second later the boy was pulled away from you and you heard him yelp in pain. Looking up you saw Shu had him pressed against the wall, his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Shu’s voice was quiet and calm, but the look in his eyes would have made even the bravest of men cry for their mother. “You don’t kiss what doesn’t belong to you. Now scram.” The boy didn’t need to be told twice, the second Shu released him the boy dashed off. Shu turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed and you looked up at him sheepishly but he then hugged you. “Ha..you troublesome woman...making me use my legs.”

Reiji

——-

Reiji was walking through the school, mentally going over his notes for the next test. He passed you-seemingly alone in an empty classroom. Curious and worried, he walked in and saw a boy looming over you. The boy then pressed his mouth to yours, firmly holding you in place. Reiji stalked forward and grabbed his forearm, wrenching him off of you. “Kissing a woman forcefully, your lack of manners are completely deplorable. If Karlheinz Sakamaki found out scum like you went to this school...” Reiji let his voice trail off. The boy’s eyes widened. “K-Karlheinz Sakamaki?” “Yes, as I’m sure you know, he’s a very influential man.” Reiji let go of the boy and stepped closer to him. “He also happens to be my father. If you don’t wish to get expelled, leave this room.” After another fearful look, the boy ran out. Reiji looked down at you and you hung your head. “I’m sorry-“ “I know it’s not your fault. I’m going to teach you self-defense. He will not be the last man to approach you like that.”

Ayato

———

Ayato just wanted some damn takoyaki. Why did you even insist on going to class? Why would you prefer that over making the great Ayato food? He paced outside the classroom door, waiting for you. The door flung open and it was only Ayato’s incredibly vampire reflexes that prevented him from being hit with it. You walked out. “Finally! Your Truly was-“ You hurried past him. “Huh?” Ayato followed after you angrily. Why the hell were you ignoring him? A boy bumped into him. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Then Ayato saw the boy run after you and grab your waist, then turned you around and kissed you. Ayato saw red. He ran forward and yanked the guy backwards by his sweatshirt, then threw him to the ground. “Don’t touch what belongs to Yours Truly!” Ayato kissed you deeply and grinned down at him. “I’m the only one who can kiss her, you got that?”

Kanato

————

“Uh, well, um...” You stammered, backing away from the boy approaching you. “You can’t seriously be loyal to that Kanato guy, right?” He asked. “He’s so weird, carrying that bear everywhere. You’d do so much better with me.” “No I-“ The boy grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, then kissed you. You squealed against his mouth and thrashed. Suddenly the boy pulled back, screaming in pain and fear, his clothes on fire. You turned in panic and saw Kanato, who looked terrifying. “No, Kanato, please don’t kill him!” You begged. Kanato’s eyes narrowed at you. “You want to save him? Are you cheating on me?!” “No! I tried to stop him from kissing me, but I don’t want him to die!” The fire stopped, the boy unscorched. Kanato turned to him. “I’ll spare you now, but if you come near my doll again, Teddy and I will cut you into little pieces.” The boy whimpered, nodding, then ran away. Kanato looked at you angrily. “Since I spared him, you owe me. Give me your blood now. After school we’ll go to the sweet shop and then you’ll bake me a pie.” You nodded weakly and allowed Kanato to sink his fangs into your flesh.

Laito

———

The boy leaned forward and kissed you. You shoved him away. “S-sorry, but I have a boyfriend!” The boy chuckled. “Yeah, that Laito guy? He’s a perv, I’m a gentleman.” He tried to kiss you again but Laito stepped in between the two of you. When did he get there? “A gentleman who tries to kiss a girl after she says no? Fufu, how pathetic. This is my Little Bitch. Get your own and leave.” The boy narrowed his eyes but left, muttering curses under his breath. “Thanks, Laito.” You tell your boyfriend quietly. He turned to you, smiling. “I need to get every trace of him off you. When we get home we’ll shower together and your body will drown in my touch.”

Subaru

————

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.” You said, which was basically just a rewording of the previous three sentences that had left your mouth. The boy stalked closer. Was he always that tall and scary looking? He grinned down at you, then yanked you for a kiss. You squirmed but he was too strong, almost as strong as-“GET THE FUCK OFF HER!” Subaru. Subaru threw the guy against the wall and punched him in the face. “Don’t ever kiss her again, ya hear?” The boy desperately tried to stop his bleeding nose. “Okay, okay.” “Now fuck off.” Holding his nose, the boy ran off, leaving droplets of the blood. Subaru turned to you with a growl. “This is why I don’t want ya leaving my side! From now on, you’re stickin’ with me at all times.” Without waiting for an answer, Subaru grabbed your hand and started walking to his next class.

Ruki

———

“Your master isn’t here.” The boy next to you said thoughtfully. “Huh?” You blushed. Had he heard Ruki call himself your master? You were sure you never called Ruki master in public. The boy walked over to you. “I’ve got ya to myself, Livestock.” Your eyes widened and you nearly toppled over a desk. He grabbed your face so hard it hurt and kissed you. Ruki rushed into the room and pushed him off you and onto the ground. Ruki towered over the boy on the floor, his cold blue eyes like steel. “Nobody calls her Livestock but me. Her master is always with her and if you don’t want to be at the other end of my whip, you won’t approach her again.” The boy scrambled back. Ruki wrapped his arm around your shoulders and steered out of the room, leaving the boy petrified on the floor.

Kou

——

Kou had just finished giving autographs and finally had some time to himself. He passed the library and something caught his eye. You were sitting on a table, which was normal, but you weren’t reading or studying. In fact, you looked like you were inching away from something out of Kou’s view. Kou walked inside and growled. It was the same asshole that had been flirting with you for a week now. Kou walked forward but broke into a sprint when he saw the boy’s lips touch yours. Kou hugged you from behind and pulled you back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Her boyfriend isn’t keen on others kissing her.” Kou lead you away and made a mental note to tell his fangirls to make his life a living hell.

Yuma

———

Yuma hated being stuck inside a classroom, he wanted to be outside working in his garden, preferably with you. He asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom and left with his hands in his pockets. He heard a scared voice and turned the corner. He saw you were backed up against the wall by three large guys. Not larger than him, of course, but way too big for you to take on. The boy in the middle, right in front of you, who seemed to be the leader, yanked you against him and kissed you. Yuma pulled him back by his hair and punched him. The other boys tried to come to his defense but Yuma easily defeated them. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulders. “Don’t touch her again. There’s more where that came from.” He warned the boys with a fanged grin.

Azusa

———

You backed away from the boy. “Azusa’s so creepy, why do you like him?” “You’re acting creepy too now!” You said angrily. For a second the boy’s eyes widened but he then laughed. “Whatever. He’s a weakling, I’m not. So come here.” He managed to grab your arm and he pulled you close to him. He ducked his head and kissed you. A force shoved him away from you. “Eve...is mine...don’t touch her...” Azusa said. “Yeah, what are you gonna do?” Azusa pulled out a knife. “Your arm...would look so pretty...with a new friend...” the boy squeaked and ran away. Azusa chuckled but then looked at you seriously. “That was...an accident...right, Eve? You didn’t...want to...Kiss him, right?” You nodded. “I didn’t.” “Good...I’m glad...” Azusa kissed you sweetly. “Only I...can kiss Eve...”

Carla

———

If Carla wasn’t so angry, he would’ve laughed. A human like that guy kissing you? His lips weren’t even worthy of kissing the dirt under your shoes. Using his magic, Carla made him soar across the hallway and hit the wall. “You scum. Your mouth doesn’t deserve to breathe in the same oxygen as her. Now go away, or you’ll be very sorry.”

Shin

——-

Shin saw you struggling to escape the grasp of a boy kissing you. He ran forward and punched him, grinning when he saw the broken nose he had caused. “Don’t come back! Or I’ll send my wolves after you!” You doubted the guy understood the whole claim of wolves, but when a guy punches you in the face and breaks your nose, you do the sensible thing and run away. Luckily, this guy was at least somewhat sensible and did just that.

Kino

——-

“Um, noooo, I’d rather not.” “So you want to skip the movie and just do this?” The boy kissed you. You pulled back. “Hey! Don’t kiss a girl like that!” You yelled. Kino and Yuri walked forward, seemingly out of nowhere. Kino held your waist. Yuri looked at the boy. “You shouldn’t touch what belongs to another, nor should you kiss what belongs to my master. He’ll get very angry.” Kino kissed you deeply and shot the boy an arrogant grin. “She didn’t pull away from me.” His face then got angry. “Now screw off.”