#i slightly mimick the style of the au i draw

[kitocrystal]

Checking out other Quest AUs as I wait for my will to come back to continue with Inky Mystery.

(The conflict has not let down yet and I’m starting to feel dread)

Anyway, go check out this neato retell of the og Quest story by @thequestfortheinkmachinecomics. The characters’ designs are nicely touched up, their personalities seems more natural now, the art is really cool and oh no, I’ve run out of juice for words… I just know that this retell will be good so I’ll be on along for this ride.

[selfships-in-spanish]

The Queen of Demons

Pairing: Erwin Smith x OC, Levi Ackerman x OC

Rating: Gen (the rating will go up as the story advances! But it will totally be explicit ;D)

Warnings: None for now, but sexist and misogynist upbringing (Eva's father is a huge asshole).

Word Count: 2.085

ALSO POSTED ON AO3

A/N: This is it! The first chapter of the Arranged Marriage!AU I've been working and drawing about! I'll be posting it on AO3 too since I don't know if Tumblr will screw me over again and give me trouble for posting text >_> This wouldn't be possible without @spirit-in-the-library's help, so I got so much to thank my friend for <3 I really hope you enjoy the story, I've got so much written and planned already jajajaja Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: THE PATH TOWARDS PERDITION

The scenery before her was breathtakingly beautiful, although it sent her a chill down her spine as she knew she went further into the unknown and her sealed fate. Snow was pretty, but silent and deadly too, and these woods weren’t familiar to her. The serene landscape didn’t calm her as it should have, only sending her nerves into a spiral of never-ending anxiety.

The cold bit at her hands and feet, the carriage did what it could in matters of isolating the cold, and she burrowed further into the thick winter coat, clinging desperately to it. Her handmaiden, Flora, looked pitiful too, her cloak not as thick as Eva’s. They tried to talk to ease both their minds, but it turned out it was better to let silence reign over them and try to enjoy the ride and the scenery as much as they could. Eva had never ventured this far when she accompanied her brothers on their diplomatic missions, Flora always excitedly travelling with her, eager to know the neighbouring kingdoms and people; she was a social hurricane and always ended up making friends with all the other maids (Eva made sure Flora could send letters and gifts, often pulling strings herself to make sure the packages were delivered safely), so both women knowing this was their final travel sent a freezing cold knot deep in their guts.

Eva saw Flora shiver, and with a tiny smile she scooted over, making room for her handmaiden under her cloak.

“Come here, I don’t want you to freeze.”

“Your skirt will wrinkle, your Highness.”

“As if it wasn’t wrinkled enough from sitting here for God knows how many hours. Come here, you stubborn mule.”

Flora snorted but obeyed, not wanting to be in the cold any longer. Eva covered them both, cuddling and letting out a sigh as she let her cheek rest on Flora’s head, looking out of the carriage’s window. She always hated the cold.

Eva probably dozed off while Flora was talking about some silly nothings, lulled by the rocking of the carriage and the shared warmth under her thick winter cloak. She realised Flora put her hood on so she didn’t let her neck stick out for too long.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty! I won’t let Diana know you fell asleep listening to her epic romance with the guard captain’s son.”

“God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t tell her, she wouldn’t stop reminding me of it.” Eva rubbed her temples, still hazy.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Flora crossed her heart and looked at Eva trying to stifle a giggle. She failed, and both women laughed out loud, picturing Diana’s irked expression and waving hands.

They kept looking out of the window, enjoying the small moments as this one; they both knew they would be sparse now.

The landscape outside the window changed, having less never-ending fields of pure white snow and heavily covered trees and mountains, to more fenced fields with cattle and horses roaming around with some lonesome wooden houses in an architectural style so different from the ones back home.

Eva’s heart thumped painfully in her chest, knowing the carriage ride was about to end as they neared the fearsome warrior’s village walls. Flora squeezed her when the carriage came to a stop, trying to reassure the princess upon seeing the gate guards on the entrance talking with the royal soldiers at the start of the entourage, and the tremendous amount of people running around inside the village as both women peeked from the cold glass. They looked at each other in a silent and mutual exchange of comfort.

The townsfolk stopped on their tracks upon seeing the carriages entering the village, their gazes wary and distrustful,  a contrast to the children shouting excitedly at the shiny armour the royal guards wore. Their mothers stood proudly, in defiance, reminding Eva of the fierce stray cats that roamed the Royal Palace gardens, hissing and standing tall whenever someone approached their kittens. Eva recalled the talk she overheard of Father and his advisors about this nation of warriors, how every single one of them had the blood of a terrifying fighter running inside their veins, how every single member of their society was trained to enter combat. Demons , that’s what her Father called them more than once, The Demons of Eldia. Whether that was true or not, Eva was downright terrified. Hostility was clear in their eyes and postures, not happy at seeing foreigners entering freely their territory. How did Father suppose she could survive this?

The carriages kept going, entering further into the maze of beautifully crafted houses. Flora parted from her embrace with Eva, knowing they would step out of the secluded space soon, and would need to make Eva look as if she hadn’t spent countless hours inside a wooden box; she had to make a perfect first impression. Eva wondered how different the village would look without all the snow covering every inch of it. Would it look as intimidating, but still beautiful, as it looked now?

Lost in her thoughts and Flora’s fussing, the entourage stopped in front of the biggest house Eva saw until now. It was massive, artfully crafted by the best artisans when it was built. Intricate markings decorated the wooden pillars holding everything together, and Eva could tell they had a meaning for these people. Right in front of the steps Eva saw more Eldian warriors, and in the middle stood those who Eva guessed probably were the welcoming party. She wondered how this Chief her father gave her hand into marriage was. Would he be a decrepit old man? A greedy one with lecherous fingers? A barbarian who would only use her for his own gratification? Was this Chief so entitled to himself and his pride that he would not even step down his throne, or the equivalent these people used, to greet them properly? What saddened her deeply was how her brothers, Hans and Friederich, agreed with Father.

Her questions would be answered in just a moment, hearing how the other two carriages, where her older brothers were, opened their doors, their heavy boots falling down the snow with a solid thud. Both women heard voices and movement outside. It was time.

“Remember, your Highness,” Flora began, giving her hands a final squeeze. “You have the strength to proudly hold your head high. The people of Gottesreich are by your side in here.” Flora touched with her finger where Eva’s heart was. “And I will be right behind you.

Eva let out a shaky exhale, a trembling smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Flora.”

The door of the carriage opened and a gush of freezing cold air hit both women. Flora tightened her cloak around her and waited patiently for Eva to exit first. It was Friederich who came to get her, gracing Eva with a tired smile while he offered his hand to help her out. Eva delicately posed her hand on the outstretched hand of his brother, the other pulling slightly up the skirt of the dress so she wouldn’t accidentally step on it and cause a scene. God forbid that happened, she couldn’t afford any humiliating mishaps of any kind. Eva stepped aside as Friederich also helped Flora out, and turned just once to see her sister following him behind, still with her hood pulled up; that was definitely Flora’s doing, knowing how the woman liked the tiny dramatics. Friederich huffed, amused.

Once they stopped just right next to Hans, his stance truly the epitome of a proud and regal prince, a member of the Eldian welcoming party walked over them, bowing their head lightly and making his light brown hair move.

“The people of Eldia welcomes you, your Highnesses, and hope you had a pleasant and safe trip.” The man had a soothing voice, calm, and such feelings carried into his eyes. “My name is Moblit and I’ll be your interpreter throughout your stay.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Moblit. I’m prince Hans Stein, heir to the throne of Gottesreich.” The crown prince bowed, right hand on his chest, and waited for Moblit to translate his words into the Eldian language. Looking at each one of the Eldians of the welcoming party, Hans turned to his other two siblings. “This is the second prince of Gottesreich, and General of our troops, Friederich Stein,” Friederich mimicked his brother, bowing respectfully too with his right hand on his chest as Moblit kept translating. “And last, princess Eva Stein, our younger sister.”

Eva felt her hands tremble and not because of the cold. She could feel everyone’s eyes fixed on her although she kept her own to the floor as her father taught her— never look at them in the eyes, only when you are being presented, but then quickly look away, never speak unless you are being spoken and addressed first, never—

She could do this.

Eva raised her hands, carefully lifting the hood of the cloak so it wouldn’t disturb her hair and tiara, and let it fall gracefully on her shoulders. She raised her head to proudly display her long neck, knowing it was being accentuated by the collar of the dress she was wearing, and looked at each member of the welcoming party before elegantly bowing towards the Eldians while delicately lifting the sides of the dress skirt as she was taught as a child. Once done, Eva returned to the position she was before: gloved hands in front of her, clasped together, head slightly tilted downwards and her eyes refusing to meet anyone’s unless she was required to do so. Father would be proud of how well she performed.

Some warriors whispered to each other, and Eva didn’t know if to feel grateful to not know what were they saying. It was just a quick glimpse as she wasn’t able to properly focus, but, where were the horns? The claws? The evil smiles with mouths full of sharp teeth? Her books depicted Eldia as demons, as creatures taking humanoid forms but with grotesque features. Eva couldn’t help but to feel thoroughly confused at the difference. Were the books wrong? Were they waiting for the right moment to show their true selves...?

A deep baritone voice quieted all the murmurs, speaking in a calm and collected tone that didn’t leave room for questioning. Eva would have called it a beautiful voice if she wasn’t being eaten alive by her fear and anxiety. The voice kept talking, and was now joined by Moblit’s translations. It was time to raise her eyes again.

“We welcome you, your Highnesses, and thank Goddess Maria for your safe journey to our land.” Eva briefly looked at Moblit, and was taken aback by the gentle appearance he displayed; she expected a brute, like her books said, but was met with soft amber eyes and sandy brown hair. Her attention was swiftly moved to the Eldians before them as Moblit gestured towards them. “My name is Erwin Smith, Chief of the proud Eldian tribe, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance too, your Highnesses.”

Eva’s eyes frantically fixed on the man Moblit was gesturing with his hand and claimed to be the Eldian Chief. Her husband to be. Eva was met with an icy blue gaze and intense like the sea she saw once when she traveled with Hans to a southern kingdom, but Eva noticed a hidden cleverness behind the stern glare. The eyes belonged to a handsome face, with sharp and chiselled features like his cheekbones, a beautiful aquiline nose and thick, blonde brows framing his face. His blonde hair was neatly parted to the side and Eva never saw a haircut such as the one he was displaying, both short and even shorter hair, but judging by the other Eldians, it was a common style. He was big, tall, and Eva saw the true poise and demeanor of a proud warrior. The blue war paint smeared on his face and exposed arms made Eva unconsciously gulp down; he looked terrifying. Even if the Chief was wearing thick clothing, there was no doubt there weren’t feeble sticks for limbs underneath them.

The princess was taken aback, unable to tear her gaze away from the Chief’s ones, and going against all her modal teachings. Those blue eyes were hypnotic and unreadable, like his face.

That was the man she was going to marry.

Erwin Smith.

[syaolaurant]

Here's the Halloween charm for Daerlynn. She'll be a Bakeneko, which so-called "Two tails cat demon" in Japanese folklore. Fyi, Bakeneko are cats that live long enough to become a demon, they can shape-shift into humans, bring curses, summon fireballs and some can even manipulate dead bodies. . The drawing style is slightly different from Arcana original Halloween charm design because I'm not good at mimicking other's style ;A; Anyway Daerlynn's cat form is a grey tabby. I've been thinking alots about which type of cat suits her, I like calico but don't want to make her look like Topaz. So I picked the tabby cat, which is super common in Asia countries, and I also own a gray tabby at home, her name's Sexy haha  :3 :3 :3

Here’s my babe :3

. Anyway, I'm having cool plot ideas for Halloween/Monster/Yokai AU (don't know what it called :"<) about Vampire Julian and Bakeneko Daerlynn. Hopefully I can do it before October 30th ~ Stay tune ~

[incorrect-pokespe-quotes]

The Phantom of the Musical

I hope it’s not too late for me to enter this for the AU fanfic contest. This isn’t exactly a traditional AU - the story pretty much follows the plot of the musical Phantom of the Opera, and references most of the songs from it - but it is definitely an alternate universe, and includes a lot of worldbuilding to get all the characters to where they are. I currently have 12 chapters completed and am working on the 13th, so this is pretty much just a preview of the project & it may be edited by the time I start posting the whole story. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1 - Newbies

The stunning soprano sang boisterously to the nonexistent audience, throwing her arms into the air as if gathering their praises and drawing them into herself. Each of her steps was pompously placed on the stage, jostling her hair, which dangled above the thin white shawl that covered her shoulders. She held her head just above relaxed position, but not so high that she couldn’t look down on the empty seats that stretched out in front of her.

Behind her, the chorus girls – or, as she preferred to call them, the background dancers – mimicked her movement around the stage, but with more fluid and graceful motions. Their magenta and black dresses had been chosen specifically to compliment the soprano’s pink and white dress; she had tried to get the blonde girl to wear a wig so her own hair would stand out more, but the girl’s mother refused and got her way only because she managed the ballet chorus.

Per the script, the scene that they were rehearsing included a pair of Audino to dance with the soprano, but the Audino in question were being borrowed for the afternoon by the Pokémon Musical team for a special demonstration show. She liked it that way, since those two Pokémon weren’t hogging her stage.

Backstage, the head of the Musical Theater watched the practice. Her arms were folded and she had a pensive expression on her face. “What’s on your mind, White?” asked the ballet manager, who was watching the practice next to her.

White didn’t react immediately. The ballet manager had to repeat her name a few times before she finally registered the question. “Oh! Sorry,” she said with a sigh. “There’s a producer from the Sinnoh region visiting today who’s creating a documentary on alternatives to battling for Pokémon Trainers, so we’re doing a special demonstration Musical for him. As the creator and head of the Pokémon Musical I ought to be there to help. But this show has to be ready for tonight…”

“Your team is quite capable,” she reassured White.

“I know you’re right, Iris,” White replied. “But I can’t let this overbooking problem happen again.” She glanced behind her and saw two young men approaching them. “Perfect! Your timing is impeccable, gentlemen,” she told them. Then she headed onstage and waved to the maestro to stop the music.

“You’re doing fine, everyone,” she called. “But I have an announcement to make.”

The soprano’s arms fell. She seemed offended that anyone would dare interrupt her performance. The chorus girls, the maestro, the stagehands, and the tenor who had just come onstage all gathered around White, Iris, and the two young men that they didn’t recognize.

“As you know, for some time there have been rumors of my imminent retirement,” White began. “I can now tell you that these were all false. I am twenty-four years old and I have a long work life ahead of me. However, I don’t intend to work myself to death. Between the Pokémon Musical, Musical Shows, Pokéstar Studios and my BW Agency, I don’t get a moment’s rest and I still don’t have time to do everything I need to do. So,” she continued, gesturing to the two men beside her, “I’ve hired these two gentlemen to manage the Musical Shows from now on. Please, introduce yourselves.”

“Gladly!” exclaimed the bigger of the two men in a thick Kalosian accent. He looked a bit out of place in his baggy cargo pants and brown-and-white striped polo shirt. “My name is Tierno André. I have been a native of the Kalos region for 22 years, and been dancing for 17. Consider me your expert of song and dance!”

“I will be taking care of more of the business side of things,” the other man said, quite the opposite of his companion in terms of height, weight, and attire. His cream-colored suit framed his slight figure well and matched his wire-frame glasses, but didn’t quite match his bright orange bob of hair. “My name is Trevor Firmin. I am also from Kalos, and it is my pleasure to work with you all.”

“We would also like to introduce to you our new patron,” Tierno adds. “The Viscount of Chenonceau…here he is now!”

A young man in a navy-blue suit walked up from the wing, waving and flashing a beautiful white smile. His messy brown hair fell around his face in a handsome way, and his light-gray eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“My parents and I are honored to support the arts,” the viscount said coolly, shaking White’s hand. “Especially those held in this world-renowned Musical Theater.”

The soprano strode up to him and offered out her hand. He shook it politely, and she mirrored his smile. “Viscount,” White said with a hint of reluctance, “Lady Yvonne Gābena. Our leading soprano for the last six seasons.”

This introduction was followed by a courteous but quick round of applause, and the tenor gave a polite cough. “Ah, and we mustn’t forget Leo Piangi,” White says, gesturing to the lanky young boy behind Yvonne. He looked slightly ridiculous because of his costume, which required a pair of green foam monster legs that made his movements sluggish and awkward.

“Good to meet you, sir,” the viscount nodded to him. “But I believe I’m keeping you from your rehearsal. I look forward to this evening’s performance.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, sir,” the maestro said briskly. “Now, Monsieur André, Monsieur Firmin, you’ll need to acquaint yourselves with the script. Yvonne, please keep your chin down when you sing. I can hear you choking your voice when you hold it that high. Leo, your footsteps are too loud. I don’t need to hear exactly when you run onstage.”

Yvonne folded her arms crossly, Leo nodded obediently and White left the stage with the viscount. The rest of the crew dispersed to their own jobs and the performers returned to their practice. Iris took the new managers upstage, where they could watch the chorus girls dance without interrupting their performance. “We’re quite proud of our ballet chorus, monsieur,” Iris informed them.

“I can see why,” Tierno replied. “You train them all, signora?”

“Skip the formalities, if you please,” Iris said. “A simple ‘Mrs. Giry’ will suffice. I am the ballet manager, so naturally I make sure all our chorus girls perform splendidly.”

“That little blonde angel is especially talented,” Tierno commented.

“My daughter, Yuki Giry.”

“And that exceptional beauty!” Trevor butted in, pointing to another chorus girl. Two long strands of her dark brown hair followed her as she moved; the rest of it was held up in buns on either side of her head. “No relation, I trust?”

“Whitley Daaé,” Iris identified her. “Very promising talent. Very promising.”

“Daaé?” Tierno echoed. “Any relation to the famous violinist from Fiore?”

“Her only child. Orphaned at twelve, when she came to live at the Theater and train in the ballet. She’s like a daughter to me.”

Iris brought the pair to the other side of the stage, where they watched the performers finish the routine. Once they were finished, the maestro, frowning, called to Yvonne. “Lady Gābena, you need to keep your steps light as well.”

Yvonne lifted a hand to her head in a dramatic flourish. “Chin down, arms up, feet light,” she moaned. “Will the maestro ever be satisfied?”

He exchanged glances with Iris and looked back at Yvonne. “I will be satisfied when you can get it right,” he replied.

“When I can get it right!?” she repeated shrilly. “I–” She broke off when she noticed White and the viscount returning and quickly spun around, storming off in a huff. “I will not put up with this – this harassment any longer!” she shrieked.

“My, she’s overreacting a bit,” Trevor commented. “Miss White, calm her down, will you?”

“Ah, but isn’t that your job now?” White said, feigning surprise. She handed him the copy of the script that she had gone to get, then smirked and added in a fake Kalosian accent, “Good luck, messieurs. You will need it.”

The new show heads were taken aback by White’s response. She gestured towards the opposite side of the stage, where Yvonne was arguing with a blonde stagehand. Trevor and Tierno exchanged glances and quickly hurried over to her.

“Where is my precious Furfrou?” Yvonne demanded.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know,” the stagehand replied awkwardly. “Er, weren’t your assistants taking care of it?”

“Then fetch them!” Yvonne shouted. Trevor and Tierno stood awkwardly behind her. Finally, Trevor cleared his throat.

“Signora,” he said hesitantly. “Please, calm down. There is no need for all this.”

“There is complete need for all of this!” Yvonne cried. “I deserve respect, but these – these beasts give me none! I cannot spend another day working for these ghastly people!”

“Do not say that, Lady Gābena,” Tierno interjected. “We have only just arrived. Allow us some time to get settled in, to see what you can do, all right?”

Yvonne scowled, and they could tell that she wasn’t convinced. Suddenly, Trevor had an idea. “A song!” he exclaimed, flipping through the script. “Ah – the aria in Act III, perhaps? You should sing it for us, Lady Gābena.”

“Well,” Yvonne huffed. “I suppose I could manage one song. Reyer!” she snapped. “You know the song.”

The maestro sighed and began to conduct the orchestra. Yvonne began to sing the aria in a very operatic style, stretching every note and forcing the orchestra to play much slower than the recommended tempo for the song. He hated it, but he knew trying to correct her would just make her even more insufferable. She hardly listened to him in the first place.

Suddenly, screams from onstage caught his attention and he looked up from the music in time to watch one of the backdrops falling to the stage, just behind Yvonne. The maestro quickly stopped the musicians and made his way onstage as people clamored to check on Yvonne and speculated about what had just happened. “He’s here!” Yuki Giry’s voice rose above the others. “The Phantom of the Musical!” The viscount glanced at her in interest.

“Bianca!” Maestro Reyer called to the blonde stagehand, who had gone up to work in the rafters. “Bianca Buquet, what’s going on up there?”

“Please, Cheren, don’t look at me!” Bianca protested. “I wasn’t at that post…and there’s no one up here besides me,” she continued. “If there is, well…he must be a ghost!”

There was more murmuring from onstage. “Signora, these things do happen,” Trevor offered nervously, attempting to laugh it off.

“‘These things do happen,’ eh?” Yvonne repeated, chuckling softly. “You have been here five minutes, what do you know?” she hissed. “‘These things do happen’ all the time! For the past three years, these things do happen!” She spun around and pointed a finger at White, who was conversing quietly with Iris near the edge of the stage. “And did you stop them from happening? No!”

White was a little taken aback to be addressed so directly, but she said nothing – what could she say? Yvonne’s accusations were spot on. “And you…you are just as bad as her!” Yvonne screeched at Trevor. “Until you stop these things from happening, then…this thing,” she pointed to herself, “is not happening! Good day!”

She stormed off the stage, calling, “Xavier! Shauna! Bring me my Furfrou!”

White cleared her throat. “Well, gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s not much more I can do to assist you,” she said. “If you need me, I’ll be giving the viscount a little tour. Good luck, and, ah…please do mind my friend in the rafters.” With this cryptic message, she dragged the viscount off the stage.

Tierno looked quizzically at Cheren. “Mind her ‘friend in the rafters’?”

“Ah, I can answer that, monsieur,” Iris said, walking up between them. She offered them a letter. “I have a message for you from our resident phantom…the Opera Ghost.”

“Oh, good heavens, you’re all obsessed,” Trevor complained.

“He welcomes you to his Musical Theater–”

“His Musical Theater?” Tierno repeated scornfully.

“–and commands that you continue to leave Box 5 empty, for his use.” Iris smiled slyly. “He also reminds you that his salary is due.”

“His salary!”

“Well, Miss White used to give him 600,000 Pokédollars a month.”

“600,000 Pokédollars!?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Iris replied. “Of course, maybe you can afford more, with the viscount as your patron…”

“That’s preposterous!” Tierno spluttered. “Miss White hasn’t left the theater. If she wants to pay this ‘ghost’, then by all means let her continue to do it.”

“But he doesn’t bother with Pokémon Musicals,” Iris informed them. “The Phantom is only interested in Musical Shows.”

“Speaking of Musical Shows,” Cheren interrupted, “we must get back to practicing for the gala tonight.”

“Why bother?” Trevor snapped, snatching the letter from Iris’s hands. “Obviously, we will have to cancel the gala,” he said, ripping up the note, “because it appears we have lost our star!”

“You do realize what it will look like to the public if you cancel Miss White’s birthday gala, right?” Iris interjected. “They’ll see the new managers refusing to celebrate their predecessor. It won’t gain you any favor in the public eye.”

“Surely there must be an understudy for the role,” Tierno said hopefully, in contrast to his partner’s horrified look.

“Understudy?” Cheren echoed incredulously. “There is no understudy for Lady Gābena. She’d never allow it.”

Trevor groaned and rubbed his temples. “What do we do now, André?”

“Whitley Daaé could sing it, sir,” Iris offered. The chorus girl stared at her in surprise. “She has been taking lessons from a great teacher.”

“Who?” Tierno asked skeptically.

“I-I don’t know his name, sir,” Whitley stammered. But how does she know that?

“Let her sing for you, monsieur. She has been well taught,” Iris assured them.

“This is doing nothing for my nerves,” Trevor grumbled as Whitley timidly stepped up in front of them.

“From the beginning of the aria, please, miss,” Cheren called, stepping back to his music stand.

She began slowly, her voice trembling. “Think of me, th-think of me fondly when we’ve…said…”

Her voice trailed off into silence. She couldn’t do it. Not with so many people around, for something so important as the starring role of the show…

Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye!

That’s right…he had practiced this part with her so many times that she knew it by heart. He had been encouraging her to do it for so long…she just had to imagine she was back there, practicing with him. All she needed to do was open her mouth and sing.

“Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye! Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you’ll try! When you’ll find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me!”

She never thought she’d do it, but here she was, Whitley Daaé, standing on the stage in the Musical Theater, singing for hundreds or maybe even thousands of people. It was just like he had said – it felt right.

“We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember, stop and think of me. Think of all the things we’ve shared and seen; don’t think about the way things might have been.” She had a wistful smile on her face as she sat back on the bench, looking up at the pair of Illumise and Volbeat that danced through the air. “Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we’ll never do. There will never be a day when I won’t think of you!”

The viscount watched her performance with muted awe from his personal viewing box. “Can it be? Can it really be Whitley?” he murmured to himself. Long ago, it seemed so long ago, how young and innocent they were. “She may not remember me, but I remember her.”

“Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade. They have their seasons, so do we. But please promise me that sometimes you will think of me!”

The end of Whitley’s song was met with thunderous applause, and she looked out at the audience with excitement sparkling in her eyes. For the first time since her mother’s death, she felt like she could be the performer she always encouraged her to be.

[unevangelical]

Found You- Chapter 1

Cruise Ship AU

Pairing: Bambam x Reader

Words: 1213

AN: This is my first chaptered fic so I will be posting updates as I write them!! Enjoy!

Day 1

Maybe it was the summer sun, the ending of school, hence the ending of your worries, or maybe it was the promise of a week-long adventure with your family, but you can’t remember being more excited for a vacation. 

When your aunt had surprised your extended family with this family reunion cruise, you were ready to pack up right then and go. Now, it’s finally the day to board the ship, passport and suitcase in hand, the sky an everlasting blue above and the ocean mimicking it below as you followed the crowd on-board. As you wait in line for boarding, the chatter of the crowd blurs into the music of your headphones, mixes of voices blending into the beats. You snap a quick picture of the entrance to the ship, adding a witty caption before shooting off to your friends, and finally shutting off your phone’s cellular service, which will be useless for the next week.

Soft, lively piano music rang out in the foyer as you exited the elevator from the lower decks, having dropped off your bags in your cabin, too excited to wait for your family before heading out to explore the ship. Dramatic curved stair cases rise behind the piano, leading you up to the main deck area. You took the steps two at a time, summer dress billowing out as the glass doors slid away to reveal the large pool area, rows and rows of untouched sun chairs, and even a stage further down.

One more flight of stairs takes you to the loft-style upper deck, where you can get the clearest view of the port. A light breeze hits you and runs through your hair, and you can feel whatever knots of tension you had left in your shoulders slowly ease away. Large ships line the coast, filling with thousands of people, looking for their next adventure, or looking to take a break. You think that you fall somewhere in the middle of the two.

Down below, you can see the endless line of people still pouring into the belly of the ship. It still amazed you that so many people could fit, but then again you had read all about how this ship was one of the largest in the fleet, and seeing as this was its first week-long cruise after a series of short runs, people came from everywhere to take part in the occasion.

“Wooow! Look at the view! Take my photo!” you hear a bright voice coming up the stairs behind you. A young man appears, all loose clothing, round eyes and bright smile, and another man, with cropped chinos and large frame glasses, who looks slightly out of breath. He says something in what you pick up to be korean to the shorter, bright boy, who tsks him.

“I told you, Jinyoungie, you need to practice your English. I really think you should speak only English for the whole trip, it’s the best way to get experience!” The glasses man rolls his eyes as his companion bounces on his toes. His obvious nonchalance doesn’t seem to dampen the other boy’s mood, because turns and runs full tilt into the railing with such force you’re honestly afraid he might go flying overboard. You even jump back a little, which draws his attention to you, even though he was staring at the view completely open-mouthed. “Ah! Hello! Sorry to disturb you.” He bows his upper body slightly and smiles at you sheepishly.

“No, it’s really okay! I was just concerned you might fall overboard,” you reply, and Glasses Boy (Jinyoungie, you snort mentally) lets out a laugh which he covers with a hand.

“That would be best for all of us,” Jinyoung says in soft, lightly accented english, and his friend gasps in mock offense.

“How rude! Jinyoung, I can’t believe you!” he sways and clutches his chest. “Unbelievable. This nice girl is my new cruise partner,” he says, sliding closer and linking your arms. “Hello, my name is Jackson, and this rude creature is Jinyoung.”

You laugh. “Charmed, I’m sure. My name is Y/N, and I don’t have a...uh.. cruise.... partner, so I’d be happy to be yours.” Jackson smiles a toothy smile and shakes your hand that he’s not linked to.

“Well, Y/N, we can’t stay long, we have to get back to our group, and we just came up for a quick photo. So, Jinyoungie! Take our photo please!” Embarrassed, you try to hide the best you can behind Jackson, but he won’t have any of it. You end up taking what must be 20 photos, in various poses, including a Titanic-esque one that makes Jinyoung say “but this isn’t even the front of the ship….” (and yes, Jackson insisted on being Rose).

After waving good-bye to the two boys, you head back down to link up with you family for cast off, a wide grin on your face. Maybe you’ll run into their tour group later, it would be nice to make some friends on this trip. But what are the odds of that on a ship this size?

-

Jinyoung and Jackson burst into the cabin suite arguing in rapid Korean that Bambam is too tired to try and understand. Like, honestly, it’s been an hour since they got on board. And he was trying to nap. Honestly.

The bickering continues for several minutes and Bambam feels a headache behind his eyes.

“Guys, seriously, chill out,” he whines and chucks a pillow in their general direction. Well, he tries to. Jackson lets out a loud whine.

“See, this is why I needed you to come with me,” he whines again as he slumps onto Bambam’s lower torso, knocking the wind out of him. As he struggles to catch his breath, Jinyoung rolls his eyes.

“You guys were moving too much! How was I supposed to tell if they would be blurry?” Jinyoung says and walks out into the across bedroom. Jackson sticks his tongue out at his retreating form.

“Loooook Baaammie,” he turns, crushing Bambam’s ribs just a little bit more, to show him the phone screen. “I made a friend but all of the photos he took are blurry!” He swipes rapidly through the photos of him and someone else, a girl, but her face is mostly smudged out from what could either be Jinyoung’s finger or a large, weirdly static bird. Bambam feels his breath leave him again, but not from the pressure of a Hong Kong native on his diaphragm. Even though the photos are blurry, he can tell that the girl is stunning, her bright smile showing up in some of the less terrible photos, and the weird poses she let Jackson convince her to do make her seem even more charming.

“You met a pretty girl? Already? Seriously, man?” Bambam pushes Jackson off, slightly miffed that he hadn’t gone along now.

“Pretty? Y/N isn’t…. Well, I guess she was? I don’t know, she was cool though,” Jackson shrugs and Bambam rolls his eyes. Fantastic. “If I see her around, I’ll be sure to chat her up for you,” Jackson sends him a snarky wink, and then sprints from the room as Bambam launches another pillow at him. He knows Bambam hates it when one of the guys tries to talk to girls for him. It never works out well.

Well, he thinks as he flops back onto the bed, I’ll have to find her myself.

On this giant ship. In six days. Sure, that could happen.