#he wouldn't be happier with more debts

[buttercuparry]

Tell me why would Joe take on more debts to pay off the loan his adopted mom accumulated while caring for "him"? What sense is there to take on loans from not one, but two people, to keep off loansharks at bay and then working again to pay off those debts...

Listen I know Wut and Sol are Joe's friends, but they don't know that this new guy is THEIR Joe. This makes a difference in itself.

So Joe offering up a year of his life to Ming is not him choosing Ming over them. This is where people are making a mistake! There is no Wut/Sol vs Ming. If you absolutely have to compare, then a better fit would be Joe going to Tong vs Joe turning to Wut.

Wut is ready to take out money from his own savings to help pay off the hospital bills of this newbie, who reminds him of his old friend. As a good boss he would do it. As a guy who feels guilty over his friend's death, Wut would do it. But Joe REFUSES, ABSOLUTELY REFUSES to take handouts! He keeps on saying that his death is no one's fault but fate's decree. So he would rather work for a asshole and earn the money. It is who he is as a character, what the fuck can you do about it?

And about Sol? Again Joe refused Sol's money but accepted the job offer. That's a thing he did! He didn't dismiss Sol, and stupidly serve himself up to Ming.

Also let's talk about what happened back at Mrs Ing's house when Joe asked Ming to leave.

" I always get what I want" , this was Ming's threat to Joe. This is Joe getting threatened by the same guy who uprooted every single inch of Joe's previous life just because of his jealousy. Tell me why wouldn't Joe be afraid of Ming doing something drastic when not only is there a disease eating away at his new mom, but there also is the threat of bodily harm from goons. Why is it then so wrong of Joe to fight fire with fire? Why is it wrong of him to actively take control of a situation and make a deal with Ming.

And yes, Joe is being a active character here by listing his expectations of payment and the time period of his service. It is not Ming who made the deal. Joe managed to seal the deal before Ming could act out and destroy both Joe and his mom's life.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Manticore's Game

Kinktober Day 11: Paralytic Venom

Male Manticore Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, nonconsensual to consensual, venom, paralysis, non-human genitals, manticore, nibbling, licking, playful yandere, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior, he fucking purrs like a big house cat y'all, happy ending, kinda fluffy Word Count: 1k (I wrote this relatively quickly just today. I hope you all love it. Someone wanted me to write happier endings and yeah I do need a few sprinkled in a bit more often.)

There were reports of a mighty beast-like man devouring sheep from the flocks of the shepherds on the outskirts of the kingdom. It was in your jurisdiction, so you sent some lesser warriors to investigate and resolve the matter, but they had retreated in terror and refused to go back.

You were the head of the lesser noble house that oversaw the region and a skilled knight, and none of your subordinates were up to the task of defeating the monstrosity. So it seemed the task fell to you personally.

Bravely, you went on your own to the mountain village and tracked down the monster's lair. You found him at the entrance to his cave. He towered above you, fangs bared. You could see why the others had retreated. He was a rare and powerful creature, a manticore!

The beast had long shaggy hair that started black but ended in red, yellow eyes, fingertips with retractable claws, massive black and red wings, and a large scorpion tail.

Unlike the others, you fought through your fear and charged. You tried bashing him with your shield. But the manticore blocked the blow with his muscular arm before stabbing its tail into a chink in your armor.

You buckled instantly, falling to the ground like a chunk of lead. You couldn't move and were completely helpless as the monstrous man crouched beside you and removed your armor piece by piece. The last one that he removed was your helmet. After he removed it, you could smell the musk practically rolling off his crotch.

He wore no clothing, though he was covered in fur from the waist down. You were sure he was going to kill you, but instead, he stung you a second time, and you woke up hours later beside the village with no weapons or armor.

It was humiliating. Of course, you had to restore your honor. But you also weren't unfair. The next time you faced him, you used a blunted blade. He hadn't killed you, so you wouldn't kill him. Though you would imprison him as a livestock thief and make him work off his debts.

Once again, you ended up on the ground after the first sting. The beast stood over you and laughed before taking your belongings to taunt you. After that came the second sting, which sent you to sleep. Once more, you woke up outside the village.

It went on like this for months. It became the manticore's favorite game and your greatest embarrassment. He must have collected dozens of sets of armor as trophies.

Once more, you tried to best the beast, and once more, you wound up on the floor. This time was different, though. After removing your bothersome armor, he hauled you into a cotton and feather lined nest.

And, for the first time, the manticore spoke.

"Azin is in rut. Need mate. You're Azin's best friend! Always play games! You're all Azin thinks about. Will make the best mate."

He didn't stop at removing your armor. He took away all your clothing and didn't administer the second sting that would put you to sleep.

Azin purred loudly as he nuzzled his head against various parts of your body. He flipped you onto your back and licked and nibbled on your chest. His cock was hard, It stuck out large and proud from his sheath. It was also much muskier than normal, the strong smell alone made your crotch tingle.

You were a little scared but were more embarrassed than anything else. Maybe the venom had mellowed you out a bit, or maybe you just felt that comfortable with Azin after all the non-lethal combat the two of you had engaged in. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have.

His slimy cock craved the warm embrace of your hole, but even in rut Azin had the presence of mind to stretch you out first. Using gobs of precum as lube, he carefully tended to your entrance with several strong fingers.

Once you were good and prepped, he propped your legs up on his shoulders and then slipped his entire length into you with one fluid motion.

"Ahhhh," he sighed, "You take Azin so well~"

And he filled you so well. You would have been moaning, but all the paralytic he had envenomated you with would allow were soft gasps and whimpers. Azin licked and sucked your neck, your cute little sounds of pleasure spurring him on and into a frenzy. He pushed you into a mating press, his large furry nuts smacking into you as he bred you.

Nothing in your life had ever felt so good. No, not just good, but right. Having him pounding into you just felt right. Your paralyzed managed to shake slightly in orgasm just as he emptied his cum deeply into you.

"Azin loves you so so much! Going to breed you lots and keep you safe always!"

The two of you panted a bit before going several more rounds. When it was finally over, the venom had worn off. You cuddled up to him, his loud rhythmic purring helped lull you into the best sleep you ever had.

Of course, when you woke up, you'd have to do the only thing you could... take him back, marry him, and have him live with you in your little castle. There was really no other honorable option.

Azin's kind mated for life. It would be cruel to abandon him, and you had come to see him more and more as a friend rather than an enemy. You couldn't exactly just imprison him and make him work now.

Marrying him was honestly the perfect solution. With him at the castle, he wouldn't be stealing food. And just the fact that your house had a manticore would ensure safety from political rivals. It would be a great way for him to make up for his unlawful consumption of sheep. What assassin would dare trespass into the home of such a beast?

Sure, you'd be known far and wide as the monster fucking noble, but at least the dick was amazing!

[greennlin]

loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter.

part one out of two.

xiao was busy. you'd signed up for this when you accepted him into your heart. you knew he wouldn't always be the most present lover, but you were okay with that... right?

lately, it seemed he never had time for you anymore. he would leave your shared room early in the morning, and be back well after midnight. it felt like you were never able to see him anymore, like he was more of a roommate than your boyfriend.

you were more than aware of the karmic debt plaguing his existence, how the gales of the storm that manifested in his soul raged without relent. once, you believed that you quelled these winds. once, but not anymore.

from the balcony where you stand fixed, the sight of your lover and the traveller engraves itself in your mind all over again. like an anchor weighing in your heart, the image suffocates you, but you can't seem to look away.

xiao had always been rather friendly with the traveller. he'd always answer their call right away, whether he was in the middle of something or not. he would drop everything to go meet them. he'd call them a close friend. for a while, you believed his words.

but is what's transpiring between them close friends? the way he doesn't flinch back when they get so close that their noses practically touch? the way he holds their hands like he'll never let them go? the way he smiles and laughs, when he never smiles nor laughs with you?

minutes feel like hours until finally, his gentle but calloused hands you grew unacquainted withdrew from the travellers hand. with a flash of green, he disappeared. but the traveller's gaze stayed.

from the sudden creak of wood from behind you, it wasn't hard to guess who'd just showed up.

"oh," he says, his tone distant and far. "you're still awake?" though he asks it as a question, there is no concern behind the words. no worry as to why you were up this hour. the words feel empty, and lifeless.

you can't bring yourself to look at him. not after what you just saw. all along, all these months of slow but sure detachment between you and your... lover, if you could even call him that now. all these months, subconsciously you knew that he'd found someone else. that someone knew had made him feel at peace. happy, like you used to make him feel.

maybe even happier.

"xiao," you say desperately as you hear him leave, "i love you," maybe, he'll say it back. in the seconds that he remains silent, hope blossoms in your chest. though the chance is slim, maybe he'll say it back. maybe im just thinking things, maybe he really does-

"i know."

his words crash into you like a tidal wave. he meets your eyes. his amber eyes are hard and cold, as if your words didn't mean anything to him. eye contact only lasts for a few minutes before you stare at the ground, eyes stinging.

"oh.." not even listening to your sorrow, he walks away, leaving you all alone. only the moon bears witness to your sorrow; the betrayal of a lover who you thought would love you forever.

though the balcony floor is hard and cold, you'd rather sleep here, than in the despairing hard and cold gaze of your xiao.

[swannieluv]

｡ﾟ･The Bold Mendacity - 𝟕. Like mother, like son.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐆.𝐈 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 2,7k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: Description of poverty, a bit of self-degreding(?), flood.

✦⸼࣪⸳𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: ♡

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: Hiii. Hope you enjoy the chapter, I guess this chapter's the one I put more effort into until now. I thought it was interesting to play with perspectives so... I also think my writing has been getting better along with the chapters, not sure tho. Reblogs and comments would be highly appreciated <3

Life definitely wasn't easy for the poor, this lesson was learnt by Freminet from a young age. While Fontaine was characteristic for the wealthy who would throw banquets and squander their lavish lifestyles as if it was a trend, there was the poor worker class who lived with nothing but the spares of what was supposed to be “human rights”.

But for Freminet, it wasn't an inconvenience as long as and his mother were together. The latter would spend most of her time working outside while Freminet was left to the loneliness of the small cubicle, making sure their poor house wouldn't flood with the water that entered through the countless holes in the ceiling because of the intensity and cruelness of Fontaine's rain to the poorest. It was his role to take care of the house while his mother was away.

They didn't have the financial conditions to buy new furniture – though he didn't know the reason; no mother would have the heart to expose their child to the cruel reality – so most of the ones in their home were repaired by Freminet when he was bored.

He would always be waiting for her to come through the front door, holding the just repaired objects she would bring home everyday. Objects that never were seen again by Freminet. Yet if his mother was happy with it, he would bear a smile for her too.

Though he was a rather obedient child, Freminet would often find himself wanting to explore the underwater. His mother didn't have anything against his hobby of diving.

Even if she didn't have the time to take him diving more than once in a week and the lack of money to invest in his abilities, his mother never once tried to shut Freminet out of his passion, making sure her son had a life in which he could be happy.

A child shouldn't suffer because of their parents' mistakes, right?

She many times thought of leaving Freminet behind and Fontaine behind. Her dream had always been living abroad, after all. If she did run away, her life would begin from the start somewhere like the places in the postcards she so carefully kept inside the old drawer.

On the other hand, those feelings were always buried and forgotten whenever she met those innocent blue eyes again. While one could consider Freminet as a living chain she was bound to, there was no doubt Camille was happier than ever since her son's birth.

And so his mother, Camille, worked harder and got to buy him the diving equipment he needed. She knew that their situation demanded her to save money, she had to save as much as she could so as to give Freminet a chance to escape this hell hole of a life.

So on the top shelf, out of her son's reach, was a pot of coins labeled as “Fremi’s dreams”. Every single cent she could spare was kept safe so Freminet could have a small portion of the childhood he deserved, saving enough money to realize whatever wishes Freminet kept for himself.

It should have been like that. But joy is short-lived in a poor person's house, especially if you live in a bad location.

Camille worked as a waitress in a local restaurant in Fontaine. Getting paid enough to survive, but not to live comfortably. The amount of stress she had to undergo just so she could raise Freminet and pay the debt left behind by his father was admirable.

It was just the usual working day for her, who was greeted with the scorching sun rays as soon as she stepped out home. How would she know there was going to be such a storm when the skies were cloudless?

Her soaked figure had just reached the front door before hesitantly turning the doorknob with her calloused fingers; a feeling of dread in her throat as soon as she stepped inside. What met Camille wasn't her joyful son with a new repaired object, but a crying one, and water.

In Freminet's arms were countless coins he so hard tried to save from the water’s way. His eyes were red as he hiccupped; the poor child was scared.

A hole in their ceiling made the rainwater leak all the way to their small living room, flooding it alongside with the other rooms. There wasn't something such as a hole this big before, so her eyes widened as she noticed the consequences of it.

The broken part of the ceiling had fallen exactly on their shelves, exactly on the coin pot. Almost six years of hard work were lost in a blink of an eye, the water taking it all away as the coins passed through her feet.

Freminet was crying not because of the water, but because he had failed his mother. His only duty while she was out was to take care of the house, and look what happened. His hot tears getting cold with the cruel raindrops that fell on his face.

So with a tear-stained face and a shaken smile, her words to the poor boy were:

“I'm sorry, Freminet.”

There were few occasions in which his mother would take him to have some fun outside of those moldy walls.

Freminet was on the way to the temple, holding his mother's hand tightly as he would always be told to do. The face of the woman beside him carried a bit of bitterness.

With his child innocence, he couldn't understand the reason behind her constant nervousness and worry. But if there was one thing about his mother that Freminet strongly believed, is that she had the best of intentions and should always be trusted.

Freminet knew exactly where they were going: to the Temple once again for food. He had never quite understood why they needed to wait in line for hours before getting a small portion of basic aliments, instead of going to the market like the families he used to see through the window.

“Stay by my side, will you? I know you're a good boy, Freminet."

Her soft smile was enough to reassure him through the bad moments, just like the sun after rain. Freminet's mother was his world, she was his solace, his abode. The only one who cared about him when the world seemed to have forgotten them.

“Yes… I'll stay here with you and won't go far.”

And so they crossed the Temple's silver gates along the small crowd of injured and hungry Fontaineans. From afar, one could see the volunteers preparing themselves to attend to all those people's needs as they could. There weren't any melusines, something he found odd since they're always present in Fontaine's ambience.

As usual, everyone formed a line and waited. Freminet wasn’t one to complain about things; so when he does, it's because he definitely feels it. The only word he could come up with to describe the situation was: boring.

Freminet put a hand on his pocket; his finger met with the cold metal of nails and other small gears he had. His hand touched the surface of something he repaired earlier: a mechanical dog small enough to fit in a hand. He thought of giving it to his mother when they go home, believing she would be proud of him for being able to fix it up.

Although what he saw when looking at her was the poor woman's pale face. It absolutely startled Freminet; his mother was the strongest person he knew, so what could be so dreadful to cause this effect on her?

Camille took a deep breath before putting a smile on her face, betrayed by the shakiness of the hands she put on his shoulders. Freminet's mother then met his level and whispered for him in a calm, yet commanding, voice:

“Freminet, mommy's just going to have a chat with an old friend. Okay?”

Just as Freminet's lips parted so as to form a sentence, she had gone. He was left alone, nervous to know what was happening and why his mother left like this. It was when he saw someone in the corner of his vision, a child coming his way.

He froze in place. Freminet had been taught so as to not stare at people and leave as soon as someone he didn't know tried any contact with him. However, he didn't know where to go. So what should he do? Stay or run to wherever he could?

The more Freminet thought, the more anxious he got. His hands started sweating from his nervousness until he finally took the decision to run. His mother wouldn't mind him disobeying if that meant he was safe, or so he thought.

As he rushed through the people, his eyes found an escape route. One of the doors to one of the gardens was left open by someone. For him, the outside would be the perfect hiding spot since he could just climb a tree or hide in the tall grass.

Was it stupid to run away from a child? Maybe. But who could blame poor Freminet when he was that nervous?

His plan was simple: stay hiding behind one of the marble pillars; and if they tried to go after him, he would run again somewhere else. This way, he would know his way back to his mother and be safe again. It was supposed to be a good plan, except that he didn't expect for the other child to suddenly fall in the lake.

He walked to the lake's edge, waiting to see if they would just emerge from inside the waters or not. From what he was seeing, the lake was too shallow for one to drown. His hands fidgeted as he tried to get a better look on where they were.

Why weren't they coming out?

Freminet thought carefully before entering the lake. His mind echoed his mother's teachings on how helping someone else was a good thing, if that didn't mean putting his life in danger. He was disobeying her for the first time in his life, wasn't he?

And that was likely his best decision in life.

Back at home, Freminet looked through the window once again. But he wasn't lonely, he now had someone to talk to, the child he saved was now his first friend ever. That meant his trips to the temple with his mother were not going to be as boring as before, and he was anxiously waiting for the next one for the first time.

“Fremi?”

His mother's tender voice caught his attention; he had been working harder to help her in order to make up for the stress he put her through at the temple. She didn't get mad or anything at him, as she understood his side when he explained his reasoning to run.

In her hands was a plate with hard bread to eat so as to not let him go to bed with an empty stomach. It was the best she could bring from work, even though she herself would stay hungry until the next day. He couldn't help but notice her thin frame, a consequence of her selfless nature. She then left the room before he could say anything, looking slightly shaken.

One of the most common mistakes of a parent is to think their child is oblivious to their suffering. Freminet wasn't dumb, he could notice her sadness hidden under her small smiles and silence.

So he spent the next day fixing an old pendant his mother had found on the way back home some other day. It was a mystery to them on how it worked, so it had been left to dust on the same shelf the coin pot used to be.

“Mom!”

He ran excitedly to the front door, hugging her before she could even take off her boots. In one of his hands was the pendant he had been so eager to fix, now clean and working. It was the thing that took him the longest to adjust.

“I fixed it for you.”

Her face lit up at the sight of the pendant. Camille had thought her son had just given up on that thing, he even said to himself that it was too difficult to fix. Yet, she kept it due to how pretty the pendant looked like.

“It's… thank you, Freminet.”

It seemed like all her stress simply disappeared. Her arms embraced him in a warm hug as she felt like crying, but one of her principles was to not cry in front of Freminet. She would never do it, not in a happy moment.

As the first musical notes started coming out of the object, she couldn't stop thinking about how gifted Freminet was when it came to dealing with mechanical stuff. A part of her felt guilty for how she had been exploiting his abilities without his knowledge, but she couldn't help when it was a way to get more money.

They spent their time there, by the door, listening to the melody coming from the pendant. At the sight of Freminet's happiness, she could help but smile. But this time, it wasn't a fake one to appease him or anything; her smile was genuine.

Freminet's mother was everything to him; his pride and joy of every single day. Seeing her in front of him with a smile on her face is what keeps him going every single day.

“Mom… I made a friend.”

“A friend…” she repeated his words with a surprised tone, “that's awesome, Freminet.”

She kissed his forehead before bringing him closer, hands caressing his head ever so delicately.

“You have a friend now, and that's better than anything else. You don't need to make many friends, but have trustworthy ones.

“Mom’s happy for you, Freminet. You can always count on me to help you, and remember: friends should always trust and care for each other.”

So now that Freminet has a friend, he'll do just like his mother said and make sure to take care of her friend. He'll try his best, even when his shyness makes it impossible for him to do something; he'll be there for them.

“[Name]?”

Their fingers unconsciously went to their throat. The day they lost their head wasn't something easy to forget no matter how much they've tried, the feeling of humiliation and hatred that boiled inside their veins would never be forgotten. Maybe if they had the courage to run away—

“Why are you crying?”

Freminet carefully approached them, holding the flower crown he had previously made in his hands. He might not know the circumstances behind their tears, but he tried to understand them.

Seeing he was met with no answer, he just placed the flower crown on their head. The daisies adorned their hair perfectly, it suited [Name] as if it was truly made especially for them. Maybe it was, not that Freminet had the courage to say it.

But what was more fitting was their meaning: new beginnings. A new life should be lived without fear from your last one, so why should they stay chained to the guillotine? It's easier said than done, even more with the circumstances around their death.

The flower crown was a painful reminder that they should be living this new life at their fullest, so why weren't they? [Name] felt like a caged dove for all their lives, but never once they had the will to change their destiny. It was quite hypocritical of them.

Freminet couldn't say [Name] didn't have their flaws, everyone does. But what bothered him the most was the way they tried to dismiss their feelings as if they weren't important.

And so he gathered all the courage inside of him and gave them a hug. His face wasn't embarrassed this time, but peaceful. He would help his friend just like his mother said, giving pats on their back as they sobbed on his shoulder.

“Let's celebrate your birthday while watching the fireworks. Okay?”

Freminet may be shy and a bit awkward, but deep inside he had a big heart and a weight to carry on his shoulders. A storm can destroy him, but as long as the people he cherish are well, he'll be fine. Even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness.

So even if his only worth lied on tinkering with mechanics or in the little diving he did when he could, Freminet wanted to try and go out of his shell.

Because just like everyone else, Freminet had his faults. And his main one was innocence, painfully reminded by the daisies he plucked from the ground with his bare hands.

[evilhasnever]

placeholder post for a drabble I might write, but please consider Meng Yao somehow stealing the secret of Wen Zhuliu's magic hand.

Imagine Wen Yao, in Nightless city, taking over WZL's role in some way (either by copying the technique, ingratiating himself as his student, or some situational cannibalism, all viable ways of stealing core melting secrets imho)

The ramifications are so juicy. Whether or not he tells WRH about his new skill, he is still indispensable to him, especially if WZL is out of the picture - and think about what he could do with a Core Melting Hand in his arsenal.

I'm just ruminating here, but I feel like it'd be a very convenient way to neutralize Nie Mingjue without killing him, for example.

Back in Nightless City, when NMJ is taken prisoner, Wen Yao could taunt him and then take away his cultivation - both for show (to appease WRH) and for self defense, tbh (he knows the fallout will be bad, and he is correct about this in canon). Granted, this would not make NMJ any less furious with him! In fact, he'd probably hate him more. But JGY would have the reasonable excuse that he did it as an alternative to killing him, and for one LXC would buy that, even if NMJ has his doubts.

What does that mean postwar? At this point, NMJ would just be a normal guy and wouldn't be able to hurt a cultivator, not even one with a middling golden core, which means JGY might not fear for his life and might not have to kill him. (NMJ, ironically, might get to live a long life! Has no excuse not to marry for heirs now, but can also continue to lead the sect and this means everyone [except him] is generally happier, including Nie Huaisang.)

What's more, if they decide to keep NMJ's lack of a core a secret not to make the Nie an obvious target, then the sworn brotherhood could be suggested specifically to conceal NMJ's situation, putting him in JGY's debt. There are a lot of interesting ramifications when you remove fear for his life as JGY's primary feeling when interacting with NMJ, and he may take Jin Guangshan's orders to get rid of him with a grain of salt - or even be able to convince JGS that it is not necessary if he leaks the secret of NMJ's missing core. (But the political fallout would then be an entirely different can of worms!)

Also LXC knows and he thinks thatJGY being able to rip out a dude's core but obviously not even considering doing it to him is very sexy.

(thank you server pals for brainstorming this blatant excuse for overpowered wen yao with me, bless)

[theviolenttomboy]

So it's all but confirmed now that Pikmin 4 is a soft reboot of Pikmin 1 as a 'what-if' continuation from the original bad ending, but from there it's a good ending for the other two games.

Because Louie is sent to PNF-404 to find Olimar, he can't perform his premeditated crime of stealing and consuming an entire shipment of golden pikpik carrots, meaning the company won't be sent into spiraling debt and the company president won't be hunted down by the mob.

Because of the above, Olimar will be allowed to go directly home, meaning his wife will be in a more stable mindset and won't be tempted by gambling and scams. His children will also be happier.

Meanwhile, the Koppai famine is in the horizon but hasn't actually happened yet. The many fruits you collect get extracted for their Sparklium but the fruits themselves are still left intact (as seen in Schnauz's Treasure Log). The three Koppai castaways you rescue postgame are heavily implied to be related to the Pikmin 3 captains, and, considering the Rescue Corps' generosity in sharing their resources with Olimar, I see no reason why the fruit wouldn't be just given away to prevent the famine outright.

Finally, because Moss is the new 'captain' of the Pikmin, the Pikmin won't be left to fend for themselves and wiped out again as soon as everyone else leaves. Presumably her future offspring will continue this mutualistic relationship, but we also don't have to worry about them potentially slaughtering the rest of the local ecosystem because while it's possible for the skills to be passed down, the gear won't.

[superloves4]

The Flame we Held (Fëanor son of Melkor AU) - Chapter 2

Relationships: Melkor/Mairon, Melkor & Fëanor, Mairon & Fëanor, Fëanor/Nerdanel Summary: Miriel made a deal with Melkor, she'd be able to bear children but in return the dark lord asked for her firstborn. When he gets imprisoned she believes herself to be free of her promise but Melkor shall claim his prize. TW: no major tag besides the kidnapping A/N: Still some angst, we'll get the softer part next time!

Masterlist and on Ao3

Melkor never thought back to that deal, in fact he might’ve forgotten all about it had it not been for the present situation.

His anger had simmered for every year spent trapped in Mandos, he had things to do, kingdoms to conquer, orcs to rule, Mairon to return to, he couldn’t stay trapped for all three ages, he had thrown plans at his metaphorical wall but none could be used, as long as he was chained none were achievable. Well, at least he could trust his brother to keep his promises, he knew some of the others would be pleased to keep him trapped there forever, if not even happier to throw him to the Void, but dear, affable, awful Manwë, wouldn't let them do as such.

So he turned inwards, that was what Manwë had hoped for him, something about how if he simply spent more time thinking about his evils he’d realize how wrong he’d been or whatever, but Melkor was firmly set on using his time to plan for his release instead. He would destroy everything his brother had created.

He searched in himself for some insight but for years he had nothing to show besides disappointment.

Nàmo’s halls were deathly boring, he could perhaps sense a few dead elves, it honestly offended him that there were so few he was certain he’d gotten rid of more, alas.

Flames.

Small, but even when they flickered, Melkor knew they were strong.

Those flames would survive the storm. But what storm?

Melkor was highly curious about the flames, where did they come from? How had he felt them so long after his imprisonment? There was something binding him to those flames, he could feel their call, but when he tried to reach out the flames seemed ever further away. He couldn’t simply will his chains into letting him pursue the flames, however, the chains felt lighter that day.

Flames, getting higher, enveloping him.

Some days, Melkor wondered if Eru had changed his mind, if he had decided to grant what he’d desired for so long, it didn’t feel the same as the Flames Imperishable but somehow something about the flames felt familiar, like a song he’d heard once. But that was impossible, he’d Sung this world into existence, no Song was beyond his memory. He could move around.

The flames were everywhere, they burned all they found and sung for him as they moved, waiting for him.

Then they were gone. And so were his chains.

Melkor could not believe his luck, it had taken him a moment to realize what was happening after that first time he perceived the flames, they were, after all, unlike anything he’d ever felt before and he’d never been much familiar with elven fëa but when he found himself moving freely he realized.

He had a debt to collect.

Eru was fair, Melkor had asked for a price and now he was to pursue his deal.

“I don’t feel him anymore”

Manwë stared at Nàmo in horror, they had always know his brother was strong but not even he should have been able to break free of not only his chains but of Mandos itself without notice. That was the type of power only Ilùvatar could bestow.

But why? Why would Ilùvatar free Melkor?

For once Manwë felt blind, he couldn’t understand what the All-Father wanted of him, was he to let Melkor run to whatever terrible deed he would pursue now? But the All-Father would not have let Melkor leave for dark purpose, it did not make sense.

“Send Oromë in pursuit, I do not trust him”

Nàmo stared at him for an uncomfortably long time, his blank visage made Manwë look away but eventually he did bow and left.

Manwë could only hope he’d done the right thing.

No, Melkor did not barge into the castle of Tirion, he had bigger plans than that, he had a brother to repay! He went first to the darkness, to where even the other pathetic Valar would not go and the Hunter would be left with nothing to follow, to Ungoliant.

He promised her the lights of the Valar but that was not enough for the treacherous spider and he had to then promise all the jewelry he could find, it bothered him to submit to her request, he was Melkor, the greatest of the Valar, but Ungoliant was different, only she could drive the revenge he wished for, who cared for a few trinkets after that, he could bear his wounded pride. Oh, how would his brother hate him for it, he felt… giddy, at the thought, and while they were all too busy crying the trees he’d take what was his.

He watched with pleasure as the spider did her job, but didn’t stay for long, it wouldn’t do well to stay, he didn’t think he’d be granted a second escape if he let this opportunity pass. So to Tirion he finally went, hiding until the world went dark.

He saw the one who now was the elven queen, her loving smile to his prize and the terrible realization when the light she’d grown used to, disappeared.

“Well met, oh, queen broidress”

He laughed and the woman held the child to her chest, backed away from him until all she was left was to hide in the corner, clutching his prize away from his vision.

“Please, please,” she begged in tears “Don’t take him from me”

“Oh, my,” Melkor walked around “The children sure are bold now, to try and go back on a promise.”

“The deal is null,” she tried to argue and Melkor shot her a dark look “I can no longer have children, Fëanàro is the only child I shall ever have, it is not what you promised”

Melkor shrugged “That is not my doing,” it truly wasn’t, there was no reason the foolish woman could not have any children after his blessing “I kept my part of our agreement, is the queen of the Noldor less trustworthy than I?”

She shook her head, looking at the child as she sobbed, her voice shaking she made a last plea.

“He’s all I have”

Melkor looked at her.

“In music, our words are binding”

On Ungoliant’s back, Melkor stared at the snow storm ahead of him, place the sleeping child inside his robes and remembered the vision he had in Mandos. The child would survive the storm.

[phonypizza]

He is not asleep but he is dreaming.

Somewhere there was a better life for him. Not a life where he had to hide from something he could not outrun. Something he could not beat. Something he could not deter. Somewhere in his dreams... he could rest. In a home. Yes, a nice warm home...

A nice warm home with himself, and his Stellina, and he would be safe inside his home. Nobody could touch him there. Nobody who wanted to harm him would exist anymore. Pino would be happier. Maybe then he could finally get back to work without looking over his shoulder or peering out at the parking lot for ten minutes before working up the nerve to step outside. Maybe he could serve pizzas without having to check the back door every so often just in case one of them was waiting there. He wouldn't have to ignore mysterious thumping noises that could be from something skittering in the ceiling or just the air conditioner.

He would no longer have those nightmares of being stuck, cocooned in a warm darkness that threatened to suffocate, held fast in an embrace both organic and artificial, connected to his killer with thin webs that poisoned him, poisoned his blood, his body, his brain...

Pino would be home. Sitting in an overstuffed chair. Stellina asleep in his lap. A book in hand. The space heater would be at a comfortable temperature. No immediate debts would weigh on his mind because he could finally work long and hard enough to get and keep those customers, those ever-elusive customers who just needed to...

...

he just wants to live his life.

Was that so much to ask?

He wants to live without spending that time in fear or despair. Why was it so hard? Why couldn't everything that wanted to hurt him just stop?

It's not my fault for being born! It's not my fault for being who I am! And doing what I know best! It's not my fault! Why have these things happened to me?!

There is no justification. Sometimes bad things simply happen. It is not a matter of if you 'deserve' it, or if it is your 'fault'. These things happen. There is no point in trying to find any meaning behind it.

He isn't sure where the voice came from. Or if those words were even from a voice. All he knows is that the echo leaves him cold. It wipes away the dream.

Pino is left in the dark, once more.

There is no point in trying to find any meaning behind it. So what will be the point of your existence now? Are you going to drown in your misery? Will you take strength in it?

I am so tired. Please. I have never been this tired.

The longer you stay lying down the more difficult it is to stand again.

I am empty. Please. i have never felt this empty.

[sunlessea]

m miellat is something of an enigma among the masters : an identity stolen, from another who had been missing for centuries now, lost somewhere even m rêves could not find, but now strangely all the more beloved by paris despite his own contentious reputation among the bats themselves. he's clung to his old penname for anonymity for aphrodite's publishings even now, but the binders full to the brim with manuscripts not yet finished are not mere love letters. the moment cassius helsing had been brought into the masters of the bazaar back in the era of london, he'd inherited quite a debt, not even his own : and how ironic, that he'd be near the only one taking their love stories so seriously.

he doesn't collect his stories from mere parisians.

"i think if you all stopped posturing, you'd be rather fond friends, if i'm being honest." he knocks ash from the pipe in his hand as he stares, overwhelmed, at the literary mess he's made, brows furrowed. he speaks, of course, to his affectionately coined batsband, whom is content to tinker in its own space. the mess in the middle of the room marks a clear transition from its space to his own, pristine and filled with books. "you're all quite a fair bit more human than i ever thought, and so similar. you're all just so bloody mean!" he huffs, eyes rolling up in his exasperation. "i'm hitting a wall."

he gestures to the stories-in-writing. each binder is embroidered rather beautifully with the names of all twenty-two masters of the bazaar, plus a secret three whom were not apart of the coalition but whom he considered important to its balance — m chandelles, m carillons (the imposter), and paris's camarilla prince. he had excluded himself, as he had no interest in writing a biography spanning now seven million years, with only a century or so relevant.

velours and chandelles are the thickest, for an entwined love story that has ranged over several thousands of years, full of betrayal and still to this day, yearning met with rejection. aciers and vadouvan follow after, rich tales of broody, temperamental individuals who had fallen for kindhearted individuals, against their natures. many of the binders are still scant, where he has yet to investigate each individual master, but others are started and at a standstill. brûlent and fantômes are difficult, with their elusive partners, and aurore is so very harsh in its continued rejections of the thinblood pining after it, though it had clearly allowed him survive london's quelling. cœurs is missing in action to this day, so following its trail is impossible as of now... he'd turned to writing m prisime's and m mourvèdre's tale, during his current block, and so now their bindings at last were beginning to fill.

in short, when it comes to chronicling the love stories of those who were never meant to love, it is quite a time consuming endeavor that required him to acquaint himself personally with every single member of the bazaar. much to câtâlin's chagrin, he's sure.

"m brûlent and adrien won't talk to me. any time i've attempted to question brûlent since london, it's made something up, and adrien is a very testy man. quick to anger. i don't understand why they don't want to change the way people see them, even now... they were drastically misunderstood in london, even by the rest of you. you'd think now that we're in a new city, they'd want to be seen in a happier light..." he frowns, moving his hand to rest 'gainst his cheek. he's sulking... "i can understand why fantômes doesn't want much out about 'moriarty' after finding out he's a giovanni who must have infiltrated the prince's territory, but why wouldn't brûlent wish for a sweeter love story in writing...? what did you jerks all even do to them to make adrien hate us all so much?"

he understands kindred politics even less than master politics! it's infuriating.

"and m cristaux is too much like you. forget its love life, i can't even find where it's sulking most of the time to speak with it!"

@londonfallen / mr irons [paris edition]

[dmclemblems]

Another annoying thing I see said by people defending the choice to have Claude and Edelgard team up is the idea that Edelgard "respects Claude's position as leader, unlike the Church."

That'd be just another thing Hopes mischaracterizes, this time about Edelgard: she literally flat out says in 3H that she doesn't think Claude would make a competent ruler on her route. There's a conversation she and Byleth have about him, and if you the player call him a jokester she'll say "That much is obvious." If you say he'd make a good king, she'll say "Interesting... I never thought of him like that."

So either Edelgard is lying in Hopes (meaning she told another lie to Claude's face) or she's acting OOC. Which really shouldn't matter anyway because Claude should already see that as the ploy to get on his good side it clearly is. If he was really so insecure about his rulership that a known liar fluffing up his ego is enough to get him to listen then he's clearly not as smart as the game wants me to think he is. There's no way he got through the Roundtable meetings as its leader being that gullible! This whole take is just trash.

I've seen this/your argument before, actually! It's true that in Houses she doesn't even really seem to consider him a threat of any sort. In Hopes I do think she sees him as more of a threat (based on how she reacts to losing battles against him), but I don't really see respect. Also, Claude does mention they're just using each other. I don't think he particularly respects her either if the only reason he saved her life was "to have her in his debt".

I also wouldn't be surprised if Edelgard said nice sounding things to persuade him more, because especially in GW, when she's the one losing she would want to fluff up his ego as much as possible. Seeming cold and haughty would only put her in a worse situation. I personally don't feel like they respect each other because at every moment they discuss things in both routes, they have opposite views (and seem surprised by each other’s views in a “that’s not good” way).

Obviously there's how to deal with Fodlan and the war and all that's different, but even in Hopes you have Claude saying he plans to kill Rhea and Edelgard doesn't agree with it. Though I know a lot of fans say that's a reverse of Houses and don't like it because it mischaracterizes them and their Houses routes, it's still an instance of a lack of agreement or being on the same page. Even if you characterize them correctly, they still wouldn't still be on the same page.

As far as acting ooc, I could see it tbh. This game changed Edelgard a bit in the sense of making her less... I guess resolute, in a sense? In Houses she's a lot more fierce, but they definitely went the unfortunate uwu route in Hopes. It's like they decided if she was going to be happier in this game that it just meant needing to woobify her completely in any possible way, including having all her comrades agreeing with her and seeing everything her way (including Dorothea and Ferdinand, which is not the case in CF even if they do stand by her in that route. They still express their grievances even if they do follow her path). A lot of the way they wrote Edelgard came off to me as an attempt to make her more soft and not as stern. Her general beliefs were the same, but what they had her doing wasn't.

Also, the Church... doesn't not respect Claude's leadership. In Houses, they actually do. In Hopes, they don't interact with him enough to disrespect him. Just because the Church didn't give their Feduwuation its blessings (because why would it lol, there's a reason I still firmly refer to them as the Alliance in all my second half GW asks) doesn't mean they just don't respect him as a leader. The only point in which they would outright stop respecting his leadership is when... he started attacking the Church and invading a land that did nothing to their land.

Actually, Rhea says she's disappointed in Claude when they fight in GW, so... she obviously had higher expectations of him than stooping to being Edelgard's personal murder machine. Not just that but Claude doesn't even think for himself with any of this. It's just about "maybe Edelgard will do this" and "maybe Fodlan will do that". He doesn't think about his personal views, why others do what they do (like being church goers), etc. What he does isn't personally motivated and he's running around doing all this in hopes Edelgard won't attack them later... even though he knows she's going to??? And admits that outright???

So yeah, that whole Edelgard's view of him versus the Church's view of him? Literally just pulled out of someone's ass, because there's no instance in the game in any route where Rhea/the Church outright expresses that they don't respect Claude's leadership. In fact, in AG Rhea and Seteth worked with him directly, in person, to make a plan together. No letters, no messengers. Met with him in person to talk planning about the war (with Dimitri of course, but this is proof enough that they're willing to take his position as leader seriously enough that they would meet with him and put their trust in him).

im tellin ya, the only thing gw did right was let miklan live

[anbubisibuna]

Okay but the parallels between MaraxMagnus and LuzyxMax?

First:

Both girls obsess over Kaya in the beginning. And see something in him he's not.

With Mara it does make sense to her character why she would obsess over Kaya at first.

It doesn't make any sense with Luzy. The only reason why the writers seemed to do that, was to add more unnecessary drama.

Second:

Both boys are in love with them and admire them from afar. Max writes Luzy poems and Magnus reads Mara a poem in class.

The difference is that Mara and Magnus actually do hang out and get to know eachother. While Luzy spends her time obsessing about Kaya and Charlotte is the one who builds a relationship with him.

Third.

Both girls are in love but deny it. They make it believable with Mara but not with Luzy.

With Mara you could actually see that she was in love with Magnus but just hiding it.

After Kaya catched him sleeping at her place she decides to go for a walk with him.

She looks happier in general around him.

She sings her song to him.

When her sister asks her if she is in love with him and she smiles after saying his name. Instead of saying no immediately.

Or that she turns her head when she hears his voice.

That during her Halloweenparty that she basically hangs out with him half the time.

But not with Luzy. The only reason we have with Luzy that she suddenly dreams about Max. Before actually knowing that he kissed her, or that he wrote her the poems, or before even getting to know him. It doesn't work that she just knows through the kiss alone that it was him. And this fairytale sleeping beauty bullshit doesn't really suit Luzy.

After dreaming about Max she wakes up disgusted.

She never looks at Max like she's in love with him prior starting a relationship with him. Eventhough she says she might be in love with him to stop him from leaving.

Fourth:

Both have one person wanting to leave.

With Mara and Magnus it's Mara because she is running away from her feelings. But she does come back later. Deciding to be with him. So she made her own choice.

With Luzy and Max is Max leaving because Luzy wouldn't love him back. Luzy then decides to tell Max that she might be in love with him too, to stop him from leaving, which doesn't leave the decision to her really.

Fifth:

Both boys are being blackmailed and can't tell their girlfriends.

I'm not saying this Jack Capone wasn't serious. But after Raven in S2. He seemed like a damn joke. Raven was 1000 times worse. And I was quite annoyed how they kind of did this storyline in S3 aswell, but alot worse.

And both girls get them out with money

Mara helps Magnus to get his father out of prison.

And Luzy helps Max pay his debts.

Sixth:

In S3 both girls greet their boyfriends from coming back from the holidays.

Mara actually does look happy to see Magnus again and doesn't ask him, where her present his.

Luzy however doesn't even look happy to see him. The scene with them was so awkward. She's not even thrilled that he came back a week earlier. She looks kinda disappointed to even see him and then she's even more disappointed that he doesn't have a present for her. And then she just leaves him standing there.

[savingthrcw]

and Rosa Santiago Appleton

bridgerton version

-at 18 was given as a bride to the 40 years old Lord Appleton (related to lord Greer) to repay a debt, to which followed literally 18 years of abuse; the physical part ended when her 18 years old son beat his father back and threatened to kill him if he touched his mother again. 2 years later her husband dies, much to her happiness. She takes time to find herself again, to slowly return to society and see other people again, and proudly goes by Lady Santiago. Her husband was known to be cruel and violent, so she does get sympathy from most. -she's now 42 with a 24 years old son (Avery) and a 18 years old daughter (Lydia) who is making her debut. Both kids use the last name Santiago when allowed to make that request. Rosa had trouble conceiving, hence the age gap and only two children. -very protective of young girls, her daughter is going to marry for love or else. She will make Lydia socialize with people at parties and townspeople as much as she pleases. -she's been free for 4 years and it's still hard to unlearn that she doesn't need to be living frugally and wear dark clothing, but she is full of life instead of timid, proud of the kids she's raised, and looking for a quieter, happier life. She's not even going to PRETEND she's sorry to be a widow, even when it's considered inappropriate. -they are not rich-rich, they will be reusing dresses during the season and not caring one bit. Her son will inherit more once married, it's in his father's will, but her mother has already warned him she won't speak to him ever again if he doesn't marry for love, they can be fine without luxury. Everything she can get from selling her husband's belongings and his yearly allowances (per his will) she'll use for her daughter.

in fa.llout she's no lady, but her backstory is pretty much the same, basically sold to this Appleton guy. Her story has to go differently given the fandom, and when she's 30 and her kids are 12 and 6, she kills him, buries the body not far from the house, and he was such a d*ck that no one questions his disappearance. She starts working right away, because she knows she can't rely on the little money they have aside forever and wants to put enough aside to move from that house. Takes her several years but now her kids have their own lives, are doing fine, and she's a mercenary who helps the Railroad whenever she can. She could be hired or persuaded to help depending on who she's talking to, not just as a muscle but as someone with MANY allies and connections and can repair pretty much anything.

modern verses (m.arvel etc) are preeeetty much the same except unlike with f.allout she wouldn't have been capable to murder her husband but she could have divorced him once older (she was scared and waiting for Avery to get older and then got pregnant again when she thought she couldn't be and said 'enough') to which followed a terrifying time of threats until her ex husband was killed by someone he started a drunk-fight with. She goes back to study while being an apprentice of a repairman and becomes one herself (which means she can be in whatever organization you want as the gal who fixes everything)

[tapestriies]

Giselle

so the brain is revisiting my oc Giselle Didier. Time to take a stab at a revamp & recap of her dramatic story (which was originally written over 10 years ago and then with some alluded to collaborative backstory things done ~5 years ago) ! Newly inspired by various female tragedies out of Hogarth, a bit of Fantine, & the ballet Giselle.

If there is one thing Giselle Didier loved - it was to dance. Starting from humble beginnings and growing up in an orphanage, the impressions of what she saw from a band of troubadours and dancers as well as dusty old books on ballet answered Gigi's burning question if her means to ends in life could also be her gift and passion.

And so she sought a life of freedom and self-expression by pursuing her gift and becoming a ballerina. Her dreams brought her to the greatest of places and capital of dance - Paris. But to dance on the stages of Paris was no primrose path. But the arduous journey only makes holding the dream in the palm of one's hand only sweeter.

Yet what could stop the inevitable end one that starts with such bright promise only to end a Willi?

[More under the cut!]

Act i.

The road to success is hardly easy. In much happier years, there still lay a mountain to climb and several failed auditions when dreams were still dreams. Yet this did not yet deter Giselle. She's a hurricane when she sets her mind to a goal. To make ends meet worked any odd-job she could find from working in coffee houses to seamstressing, to gigs beside her friends at the tavern cabaret; and practiced rigorously with local instructors of the artsy side of Paris (who, while they lacked the prestige of the ballet schools she aspired to, were no less excellent teachers of dance). The lower rungs of Paris were content to her, it was a struggle, and there was the bad and ugly side to it, but at least some were authentic.

At last, Giselle made her breakthrough among the corps du ballet. Many years pass, and Giselle dances. Whether she is a rising star or not is anyone's judgement, but she cunningly navigates her way and is most happy to do what she loves. She even begins to aspire in her future to become choreographer of the corps de ballet, or at least ballet mistress to teach ballet to the younger generation. Her future seemed bright.

Act ii.

If only, certain people hadn't come into her life that derailed her from her dreams.

It is not long after this that Giselle madly falls in love with a newly arrived lead dancer, Albert. Yet what she does not know is that he is a nobleman in disguise. Their dances are passionate, and it is her best work.

Alas if there was only someone to warn naive girls of such men! However much too late, to Giselle's horror, her lover is exposed to be a nobleman by another dancer named Ilarion. Worse, Albert is also revealed to be engaged to the patroness noblewoman Lady Bathilda.

Knowing they can never be together, the heartbreak to Giselle's weak heart would be enough to make her go mad. Her grief inconsolable when face to face with his deception. 

This catastrophe makes Giselle deathly ill. If fate would, she'd have joined her sisters and betrayed maidens of the true Willis. But fate it would seem had different plans for her.

The conclusion of this act of her life Giselle doesn't speak about. Perhaps there's a newspaper story, or perhaps it's only told by the silent walls of the Opera stage.

Act iii.

Giselle emerges in the 'afterlife' after dedicating nearly all her years to her dancing career.

The ‘Queen Myrtha’ leader of her new 'Willis' was none other than Madame Adrienne de Beaumont, a woman of mystique.

Giselle was just her housekeeper. She became so after losing a bet and debt with Madame, making the grave mistake of not knowing who she really was beforehand. Let alone Madame de Beaumont's other business - her business as a madam.

But it wouldn't be long before the attention Giselle garnered even as a mere maid made her coerced into that other business, with promises of better pay. Pay that Giselle needed. But Giselle would not comply. In fact, every coercion made her more of an unpredictable liability. To make her point, whenever left alone with any of the ‘cochons’ (any one clients sent encouraged to persuade her) were left with bruised egos... or physical bruises.

Fighting back, Giselle had less to lose now. Yes, de Beaumont could have her arrested, but even with bribery it risked investigation into that 'other business'. But where else could Giselle run to? De Beaumont wouldn’t give her a reference to a new house to work as a maid. She could perhaps pick up any other small job or move to a smaller town to teach but had no money, not without that remaining unpaid debt looming she would surely be hunted for.

If she complied with de Beaumont, perhaps there could be a silver lining to it. Giselle found Albert's name was among her clientele ledger, and it could seem the perfect revenge against him to blackmail. But GiGi could not bring herself to do this. Perhaps it was not Albert's life she wanted to protect. Perhaps she would sacrifice her revenge for forgiveness. Protect her own and what remained of her dignity. But still her desire for freedom, if not justice and revenge, was insatiable.

Spitefully, Giselle would climb out of this picadillo one way or another, and so came up with a plan.

Specifically, an escape plan.

Seemingly relenting, Giselle negotiated that if she was going to meet the Madam’s expectations and earnings and pay off the burdening debt without accruing worse interest, she should have no client but one - and only one of her cochons. A more reputable life of a courtesan than a mere tainted dove. De Beaumont surprisingly was amenable.

That fateful night Giselle was to be carted off, her life would never be the same.

She did not know what lay before her. Only perhaps it was better this way back to those lower rungs again. She came from the gamin and gutter, and knew it best to navigate in this dance of survival.

Giselle played along and played the part well for as long as she could, following de Beaumont’s orders and guidance for a successful and pleasurable business venture. Finally, De Beaumont arranged her with an Englishman named Edmund.

Here Giselle enacted her calculated escape. After beckoning the Englishman to the comfort of her room before their departure. For a toast, Giselle insisted. Or rather, ensuring he had enough to drink to impede his full senses. At the opportune last moment, Giselle sprung to the action of attack. She knocked the Englishman unconscious and tied him to a chair, before making a mad dash for the window to flee through the Parisian rooftops.

Fortunately, she managed a successful flight.

Unfortunately, someone had caught on to the odd commotion too quickly and alerted de Beaumont. Giselle had no time to finish changing before Madame de Beaumont's staff could break the door down.

In nothing but her shift, drawers, corset, and with whatever she had in her pockets, Giselle draped the bedsheet over her in some form of makeshift covering and like a runaway fled into the night.

The carriages of de Beaumont and the now conscious Edmund chased after her. Yet the trail ran dry and they could not find her.

Like a ghostly Willi, she had vanished.

==

OC Cameo - (Criminal!AU) Madame de Beaumont :: @reverdies ;)

And whom she crosses paths with that night, a certain Jean, again things would never be the same... ;)

[neeharlow]

This isn't a thing asking for money, I just need to vent about a few recent events. The first thing, my husband and I are struggling. He had a good paying job, about 6k a month. But this job was soul sucking and stressful for him. Now, if he had the correct amount of support staff it wouldn't be nearly as bad. Because he had worked from being a regular security guard to an account manager he knows the hardship that the guards go through. He knows they are paid like shit. He would often have to ask people to work over time. But that's the thing. He would ask. Not once did he ever try to force someone to work overtime. He himself would fill in the position if no one was willing to work. So he'd often have to go to work on Saturdays or Sundays which happened to be over an hour away and that's not with Los Angeles/Inland Empire traffic. His officers were often times very fucking childish and would argue or complain about the work they had to do. Which he understood, totally not paid enough to dal with that level of shit. But it's still the job. Do the freaking job. Anyway, the company lost the account so he lost the position. (Oh and once everyone found out they were losing their jobs they turned on him and started telling lies about him to HR which he thankfully was able to prove were all false.) Now he's back to being a normal guard. And he's honestly a lot happier with his post. Nights. Walking back and forth in a truck yard. He gets to listen stuff on his phone and even better he doesn't have to deal with people. The only problem is he went from making 6k a month to 2k. Which I know is more than a pot of people make. And he is very thankful he even has the job. But after car payments, rent, groceries, insurance... we're in the negative. I get 1300 a month from disability (aka why after 18 years together we aren't married). My account is for rent. Thank god we live with his parents so we're not at risk of losing the roof over our heads.. mostly. His dad is a powder keg sometimes and has been emotionally abusive to him and his brothers so he avoids him like the plague. We have 22k in debt due to stupid stupid choices on both our parts. (in the past he got addicted to Star Wars Galaxy of Heros and ended up racking up 25k worth of mobile microtransactions. We have since gotten out of that debt. My vice is fast food delivery.)

He is willing to take on another job until we get out of debt. But that will not end well. I refuse to let him work all day, sleep for three hours and then work all night. It's not healthy. He has BPD and ADHD so it's a real emotional struggle to just keep up with this job. He already lost his health insurance so he's also unmedicated. With my health issues (dead kidneys, failing liver, Bipolar, ADHD, and heart issues.) I cannot get a job even if I wanted one. No employer in this day and age would let me have two days a week for dialysis not to mention all the medical appointments I have to go to. Plus I'm on the transplant list for liver and kidney, if I get that call that's automatically at least a year off of said work.

I know there are people worse off than us. I'm not dumb enough to think our problems are world ending. We are safe. We have a roof over our heads. That's more than a lot of people have. And we will come out of this eventually. His parents are also struggling so we can't really rely on them for anything. I'm just worried about him.

I'll make a different post for the other thing. :/

[fraink5-writes]

In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 15

This is terribly late. The next chapter will be on time though.

Thanks to the best @leio13 for her editing prowess!

Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Sitting on Xiao's couch, lightly swinging his legs, Venti was a bit happier than he had been in a while, and the reason was simple: Xiao was actually kind. 

Over a week ago, Venti had been at one of the worst points in his life. After mucking up his relationship with Xiao, he had been abducted. And they abused him. Venti still wasn't sure how long he was there nor what was real or fake, but one thing was certain—he lost track of who he was and why he needed to keep living. In that dark chamber, he accepted death as inevitable and imminent, and he had even consented to it, nearly letting it claim his body on several occasions.

In the end, the one who rescued him was none other than Xiao. The very same Xiao that Venti had wanted to save no matter what. Venti's entire purpose of coming to Liyue was to save Xiao from the destructive path he was stuck in, but now Venti found himself owing the hitman a debt he might never be able to pay back. Fate had an ironic sense or humor.

Still, Venti couldn't be mad. In fact, he was content. Not only had Xiao freed him from the torture, but he also went the extra mile to make sure he recovered, keeping him housed, fed, and clothed even after the doctor had released him. It was the first time anyone had done any of those things for Venti in his life, so he was extremely grateful. And, on a more personal level, though Xiao would never be aware, he had revived Venti's reason to live. The story of Venti the Bard didn't end in a dark room, and Venti's efforts to rescue Xiao wouldn't end there either. Xiao thought that he could be no more than a murder weapon, and Venti had believed him. But now Venti was certain that Xiao was kinder than he would ever realize. At his core, he was someone who was capable of a more fulfilling life than the one he had fallen into, but he was blind to it. If he couldn't see it, then Venti was determined to guide him. Only by knowing the full scope of possibilities could Xiao really be free.

“Venti,” Xiao interrupted Venti's daze. "Are you ready to go?"

"Ready when you are!" Venti always had very little to his name, but currently he had even less. Of his original belongings, he only had his phone, which Xiao had snagged off his captors. Additionally, thanks to Xiao's generosity, he was able to buy a few pairs of more suitable clothing (minus the cecilia adornments, which were impossible to find in Liyue) and a decent gun, but that was about it. His lyre was still missing, and unfortunately, it would probably remain out of his reach until he could pull himself together a little more.

For now, Venti would follow Xiao, and their first order of business was an overnight train to Stone Gate. The train car was divided into smaller cabins, which each held two built-in bunk beds. Xiao and Venti had one half, and the other half was occupied by a pair of people who luckily got off at the Wangshu Inn. After they left, Xiao closed and locked the door behind them. Then, at around twenty-two o'clock, the train crew dimmed the lights in the cabin to facilitate sleeping.

Not that Venti had even considered sleeping. There were too many uncertainties parading through his head. Venti wanted Xiao to go to Stone Gate, to learn what was written about him. There were secrets there that Venti couldn't possibly share, and secrets he couldn't even know. But Xiao's life as he knew it began there, so he deserved to learn the truth of that place, and Venti wanted to be by his side when he did. Still, Venti was afraid. Would Xiao remember his previous life? And after learning, could he still remain Xiao?

Venti couldn't help but tap his foot with a prestissimo tempo. Ahhh… He so badly needed a drink… Xiao was extremely strict with Venti's spending and even more so with his drinking. But Venti couldn't take it for much longer. His nervous system shook and ached. It was parched for intoxication. Even one glass of wine would help. Anything. Even a different substance…

Venti glanced over to Xiao sitting on the berth next to him. If Venti's shaking bothered him, he didn't show it. In fact, he was moving to his own gentle rhythm. His head would dip, and then nod, and nod, and nod, and finally shoot up, only to fall again shortly thereafter.

"Xiao," Venti whispered.

Xiao's head flipped up, and he flashed Venti an alarmed stare. "What?!"

Oops. Venti stifled his chuckling. "You can sleep, you know…"

"I'm fine. I don't need to."

"You do need to. I know you haven't been sleeping well on the floor. You're so tired, you're practically sleeping already!"

Xiao opened his mouth to object, but Venti didn't let him.

"Look, the door is locked. It's only us two. It's about as safe as your apartment." Venti scooted closer to Xiao. "I could even fall asleep right now." He closed his eyes and presumptuously placed his head on Xiao's shoulder.

"Do you—" Whatever Xiao was going to say, he cut himself off with a deep sigh that even Venti could feel through his collar bone.

Venti grinned. In his head, he counted the measures of a melody he made up following the rhythm of Xiao's breaths. At the 75 measure mark, Venti felt a light brush of hair against his own. At 100 measures, after the tune had mellowed out significantly, Venti opened one eye and then the other. Tenderly holding Xiao's head, he slowly slid off his perch. Then, lightly sweeping his hand behind Xiao's ear and down to his nape, Venti laid his head on the cushy pillow. Finally, he removed his shoes and lifted his legs onto the bed.

"Sweet dreams, Xiao. No one knows what tomorrow's wind will bring, but I hope it leads to happiness."

[kouros-herc]

NAME: Hercules Kouros

AGE: 43

MAGICK STATUS: Gifted (Public Knowledge)

OCCUPATION: Gym Owner, Personal Trainer, Fitness Instructor.

BUSINESS DESCRIPTION: Olympus Gym, Swynlake. Which hasn't changed massively, just tried to keep pace with new tech and equipment, following new trends in popular classes.

CURRENT LOCATION: Swynlake. Resident in the Farmlands.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS (IF APPLICABLE): Married to Ella Ashbourne.

CHILDREN (IF APPLICABLE): Willa Ashbourne (step-daughter, 18), Theodore 'Teddy' Kouros (3), Sofia Katerina Kouros (6 months).

BIOGRAPHY:

Live changed slowly, and then all at once, for Hercules Kouros.

With each year that passed, the gym got a little stronger, he worked a few less hours, he saw his friends more, he built roots deep into the community. Slowly and surely, he grew. He started clearing his debts, actually making savings, putting himself first more often, training his staff to do more and making the business a happier and healthier place to work.

He even started to make a name for himself on the subject of Magick inclusion in the fitness and exercise world.

He was happier, day by day, bit by bit, more confident.

Another year, another Swynlake disaster at Prom.

But this time he found himself springing into action to rescue someone, without thinking about it, he saved Ella Ashbourne from getting trapped by falling rubble. Afterwards, he walked her home, and asked her to call him, if she wanted to chat. Dating a woman with a kid was a learning curve, but after spending more time around friends' kids it wasn't so scary. He wanted to try, wanted to try so badly he'd make sure he made it work, because he had a really good feeling about this.

He was right.

In the years that followed, he and Ella moved in together, got engaged, got a place out in the farmlands, he even spent some years on the town board trying to unite advocates for local businesses and Magick rights. But he stepped down after his second term, to focus on the thing that mattered more than anything: his family. Now Willa might be learning more about her birth right in the forest, but they have their hands full with Teddy and baby Sofia.

Still. He wouldn't change it for anything.