#lush tunnel of love

[wallflowerglitter]

Love Boat Bath Bomb, Cherryish Body Scrub, Tisty Tosty Bath Bomb, Unicorn Horn Bubble Bar, Height Of Enlightened Expectation Bubble Bar Melt, Tunnel Of Love Soap

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[shallowseeker]

Truth & despair *COMPLETE*

"The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable."

Synopsis:

With Cas gone, Jack vanished, and Dean in turmoil, Sam turns to therapy to cope. His search for answers leads him to the bunker’s surveillance footage, where he uncovers startling evidence that casts doubt on Dean’s account of Cas’s death... and Dean's sanity. Determined to restore a semblance of normalcy, Sam gets them back on the road. But their case takes a terrifying turn when Chuck appears with a chilling revelation: the universe is targeting them in a deadly Final Destination-style game of fate. As Sam grapples with his own fears and a world seemingly set against them, he clings to the hope that reuniting his fractured family will be the key to overcoming their darkest challenges. Maybe once they’re all back together, they won’t need therapy at all.

---

Focus: Supernatural post-15x19 fic, TFW grieving badly, Bad therapy attempts with Mia Vallens, False memories, The Shadow is in love with Cas, Jack and Amara are AWOL

Characters: Dean/Castiel, Dean & Sam, Sam & Dean & Cas & Jack, Eileen Leahy, Mia Vallens, Chuck Shurley, Becky & the Rosen-Baron fam, Donatello Redfield, The Empty, Amara, Jack as God, Rowena MacLeod, Sam POV and Sam is blessedly annoying

Content warning: Major character death (Castiel), poor coping mechanisms (Dean), and encroachment of personal boundaries (Sam). Eventual happy ending.

Updates every weekend!

Proofread by @minalblood & finished for @tenderthunder

❤️

///

Ch 01: (~4200 words, ~17 minutes) - In an attempt to tackle his grief, Sam rifles through the bunker footage to track down Cas’s last moments. The footage leaves him with more questions than answers.

//

Ch 02: (~5700 words, ~23 minutes) Mia admonishes Sam for his breach of boundaries, and Dean suffers his first meltdown.

//

Ch 03: (~5200 words, ~20 minutes) Sam leans into unhealthy coping mechanisms that nearly get them killed.

//

Ch 04: (~4700 words, ~18 minutes) Snapped out of Chuck’s grand finale, Sam and Dean wonder what’s next.

//

Ch 05: (~5250 words, ~21 minutes) In need of Becky Rosen’s laptop, Chuck and the Winchesters track her to a safe house in the recesses of the Wallowa Mountains, Oregon. En route, the roadways are riddled with mysterious sinkholes. Dean admits he’s drawn to them.

//

Ch 06: (~7500 words, ~30 minutes) - Chuck shows his true colors, but Dean’s the real problem.

//

Ch 07: (~7200 words, ~28 minutes) - Dean takes a leap of faith. Sam follows.

//

Ch 08: (~7100 words, ~28 minutes) - Sam and Dean tunnel their way into The Empty. It's not empty.

//

Ch 09 (~ 6200 words, ~25 minutes) - Unable to rid Castiel of the cooling Empty gunk, Sam and Dean transport him back to the Barons’ house and attempt to free him.

//

Ch 10 (~ 6200 words, ~25 minutes) - Hoping to track Jack and Amara, Team Free Will returns to Washaway Beach to perform a potent locator spell.

///

Ch 11 (~8000 words, ~32 minutes) - Sam and Chuck crash-land in a lush landscape and run afoul of Amara. She taunts Sam, promising that Jack will never return, at least not of his own free will.

//

Ch 12 (~10800 words, ~43 minutes) - Jack's got everything he needs right here. Why would he ever leave?

//

Ch 13 (~8000 words, ~32 minutes) - Sam awakens in the shallow waters of Washaway Beach...alongside the prone body of Jack Kline.

//

Ch 14 (~10200 words, ~40 minutes) - Maybe Sam can't fix everything. Maybe that's okay.

//

Ch 15/ Epilogue (~17000 words, ~68 minutes) - Then, Dean welcomed Cas back from The Empty. Now, they deal with the fallout.

[pazzapalooza]

The Fraggle Five Playing Minecraft

Gobo: got iron armor within the first twenty minutes then left them to try and get the Adventuring Time advancement, hasn't been heard from since. some say he's been spotted looking for a woodland mansion, and complaining about mushrooms for whatever reason. Mokey: went into the game completely blind, found an animal and dedicated her time to building a beautiful room for it. now works to build rooms for every type of mob in the game, hostile or passive. she also collects decorative blocks and materials for Boober. she loves collecting the flowers, and the others often are annoyed when they run into one of the many sweet berry bushes she planted. loves bartering with piglins. learned the hard way that beds don't work in the nether. Wembley: an idiot savant at the game, which makes Red very jealous. he somehow gets through the whole game without dying even when doing something extremely dangerous like infiltrating an ancient city without alerting a warden. he does bucket clutches and builds platforms while jumping just because he's always on the move, not even because it looks cool. always carries snowballs with him to throw near the others for fun. Boober: made a hole in the side of a wall in a lush cave and effectively created their base. he then proceeds to decorate and do all the farming, both animals and crops. there was once an incident where Gobo killed the cow he used a nametag on, and violence soon followed. he now has a pet axolotl. he regularly yells at them to put their shit in the proper chest. only time he left the base was when the others forced him to come fight the dragon with them. Red: tries really hard to impress the others by speedrunning the game, but is pretty bad at the game. runs headfirst into danger and dies for it often. always gets snuck up on by creepers. over time though, she does genuinely get better, and begins to actually enjoy the game more as a result. still the first to die in the dragon fight. has 2x2 tunnels at chunk borders at Y14 in the nether to get as much netherite as possible.

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

2 Of A Kind Ch. 3

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Fem receiving

There may or may not be a part 4... need to see how people feel about it. ALSO! Shoutout to all the GIF makers out there for giving me so many options and I love you all... I still feel the need to use the same one repeatedly, but you all help me fight that urge!

This is made for THIS anon request!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“Can I help you with that?”

Troy’s eyes grew dark, feeling his senses begin to tunnel into her and her alone. The woman merely smiled, adjusting herself under the blanket to the side. Her cheeks burned with a fury of confusion and anticipation as she stared back into the blue eyes watching her. “I mean-” Troy shuffled his feet lazily towards the right side of the mattress, closest to the woman. “You helped me so it’s only polite of me to offer my assistance. That is - if you want me to help. Not to be frank but, I could do a bit better than what you were doing.” Troy cocked his head to the side with a crooked smile when the woman scoffed exaggeratingly at his remark. It had been some time, if ever, that anyone had made him feel like this.

Powerful.

“Come’er,” She whispered to him, a voice sending shivers down his spine, but Troy followed her order. The mattress slunk down from his weight, dipping the two into one pothole in the middle. Her fingers ghosted over his hand, the wound on it open to the warm air. His eyes flinched at the sting that rang up his extremity as she placed the hand to her lips, gently kissing the inflamed skin while looking up at him through dark eyelashes. with a twist of his hand, Troy caressed the woman’s cheek, feeling the heat radiate from her dewy skin. Their eyes never broke until Troy lowered his gaze to her lips, softer than he thought they’d be, swiping one calloused digit across the delicate flesh.

With a smooth lick of his lips, Troy initiated the kiss. Pressing his flesh upon her own, feeling her warmth and hearing the ever-so-silent moan that escaped her lips against his. He thought about going slow. He thought about taking it easy with her and not being so forceful, but the sound she made turned him into something more than he thought he was. Deepening the kiss, Troy licked at her bottom lip begging for permission.

Denied.

He could feel her lips pull at the sides, smirking against his touch. This was a game.

A hand found its way to the base of her neck, his fingers dancing along her spine until she felt his way into her hair. Troy took a handful of lush locks, pulling it into a fist. Her body began to arch as her neck pulled back just enough to gain his awaiting tongue entry. His body began to barrel over her as she was lost in the feelings. She wasn’t one to ever relinquish control… yet, here she was. Allowing a stranger control over her body, and she liked it.

As Troy’s tongue ventured into the walls of her mouth, his free hand found its way up her chest, burning fingerprints into the skin he began to expose. With one final nip to her bottom lip, Troy backed away, his lips at least. His eyes regained control again, watching her once-hardened eyes turn soft and needy. The look she gave him through those dark eyelashes gave him the feeling of warmth… possessive… needed.

Fully collapsing into the soft sheet below, the woman gave up her fight. His touch felt too good to push away.

Watching his head dip below her chin, she felt his lips once again burn into her skin, just below her collarbone. His tongue swirled with small suctions traveling lower and lower. His nimble fingers pulled the blanket she was hiding under exposing both breasts to his full view. Troy glanced up, his fingers pinching the sensitive skin of her nipples.

He wanted to see her face as she let him do everything he wanted.

He wanted to see her vulnerable. He wanted to see her as his.

After a little while, he couldn’t take it any longer. Seeing her skin raised in goosebumps and her nipples formed into full points, Troy replaced his fingers with his lips. He hadn’t thought he had an oral fixation before, but the way his cock begged for his lips to have her, any part of her, was beginning to make the brunette re-think that. Her voice jumped when he sucked in a breath against her, biting harder than he had before. Her fingers weaved through the curly locks on Troy’s scalp, tugging ever so much with each moan that escaped her. Troy hadn’t realized that his hand had already found her most sensitive region until she shook under his grasp.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait!” She exclaimed, her fingers lifting his chin to look back at her. “If you’re going there, then I need something other than ‘fuck-boy’ to scream. So what’ll it be?”

Troy smirked, a devilish smirk, with one arm under his weight to keep him raised above her form. The hand that was at her core swiped the saliva from his lips before ghosting down her body, once more resting where he could see a glint of her slick dripping from. His eyes watched her skin react to his touch the entire time, her scars rough and coarse before his fingertips met more soft skin. He thought about toying with her, prolonging her wait for any form of identity of him, but he wanted to hear his name echo on those walls just as bad as she wanted sweet release.

“I’m Troy.”

As soon as he spoke, Troy delved two fingers into her core. Her hands fisted into his hair as he did so. He watched as her entire body arched from the mattress and her lips enchanted the delight of moaning his name. Enjoying the sight before him, Troy watched as she came to orgasm. His digits glided in and out of her sodden core, stretching the walls of her pussy farther with each spasm she had. As she began to clamp down, his thumb rubbed circles through her clit, only causing even more mess as she finally climaxed with a squirt of fluids soaking the bedding below her sweat-slickened skin.

She was a mess, a hot uncontrollable mess as she came back down from her high. She had completely forgotten she was even in company until she felt one strong arm tighten over her belly and soft curls itch across her cheeks. Troy knew she needed a little time, so kept himself busy making bruises to last her a few days on her neck. Once he felt her heart rate slow against his touch, he pulled back to look upon the magnificent work he had done. One arm, again held him up as the other moved slickened hair from the woman’s face. His eyes peered over her lips as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from dazing before meeting her watchful gaze.

“I suppose I should thank you.” She spoke quietly, much softer than normal. Her mouth upturned into a shy smile before turning to look at the ceiling. Troy chuckled tenderly. This woman wasn’t at all who he thought she would be as he peeled back layer after layer.

“There’s no need, I’m here to help, ma’am.”

Troy rolled over to the edge of the mattress, swinging his legs over the side. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome so he figured it was off to the couch for another night. Then, a soft touch wrapped around his wrist.

“Why are you leaving? Did I-”

“I didn’t want to overstay or put you in a position to ask me to leave.”

Troy looked back at the woman from over his shoulder. She sat where he had left her, trying to hide her modesty behind entwined arms and legs. The look she returned was not one that he had assumed he would get. Her coy smile beckoned his feet to not move. Her eyes were like a siren making any thought he had of leaving melt away.

“I’m grateful, I truly am -” her hand that was on his wrist weaved through a belt loop, tugging at the fabric, “- I need more, Troy. And given by how tight those pants have gotten, I think you need more too.”

[no6secretsanta]

Mr. Incredible and Metalhead

For @ami-nelle

From @pigeonsimba

Nezumi hates gym, so he figures why go? In fact, he pretty much hates every class except English, and that’s his first period, so school feels like crawling through a long, boring tunnel—a tunnel he can see the end to, that he has explained to his teachers he is more than ready to exit, but that his teachers insist he must inch along at the same pace as the rest of his idiot classmates. It is soul sucking. He’s already smarter and more athletic than almost every student and teacher at West Block, so there’s nothing to gain by going to class.

He would be better off, perhaps, at Chronos, where all the gifted kids with rich mommies and daddies go. But alas, orphan Nezumi is too poor for Chronos to profit off of. In Chronos, “gifted kids” is a literal term; the kids are gifted to the school with a five-figure bow.

Still, it’s hard not to find the place impressive. The towering white walls that glisten faintly in the sun. The ionic colonnade supporting the swooping, graceful architecture. The quaint white cupola topped with a silver honeycomb finial. Standing in front of its western-facing wall, Nezumi sighs in admiration. Pretty, preppy Chronos, the jewel of No. 6. How he wishes he could burn the whole building to the ground.

Today, however, he’ll have to settle for breaking and entering. If he’s really lucky, it’ll be more heavily weighted toward the breaking side of things.

One might wonder, why is Nezumi ditching school only to trespass on another school? Because why not. If he has to be in school today, might as well gatecrash the superior institution and see what exactly is so magical about Chronos.

Now, which window…

Only three are open, and he decides on window number two. Partially because he likes the potted plant sunning itself on the sill, but practically because it’s the window closest to the pipe on the wall that he plans to climb.

Nezumi looks left and right twice to make sure the coast is clear, then hops up onto the pipe. It’s sturdy and has just enough of a gap between it and the wall for Nezumi to wedge his slender fingers into. Carefully, he scales the pipe until he’s slightly below parallel with the target window. He takes a second to measure the short distance, then pushes off with his feet and snags the edge of the window with his hands. After that, it’s easy to pull himself up onto the sill.

They don’t teach that in gym class.

Nezumi smirks at the peerless view he now has of the topiary gardens in Forest Park. He flicks one of the leaves of the potted plant and slips inside to get his first glimpse of Chronos’ innards.

The room is the window sill on steroids. Every inner sill has some kind of plant: cactuses, flowers, succulents, ferns. More types than Nezumi knows the names for. The only ones he recognizes at a glance are the pothos that hang in rope hammocks from several places in the ceiling, their leafy tendrils spilling down in cascades of jade and gold. Here and there one can see evidence of it being a classroom converted into an arboretum. A few desks are scattered in the middle of the floor, which are mostly home to empty pots, bags of soil, and shovels. He can make out a whiteboard at the far end of the room, but most of it is obscured by a table hosting elaborate trellising.

The corner of Nezumi’s mouth curves up. The space is beautifully curated. The air feels cleaner in the dim, lush room, and he’s immediately filled with a deep sense of inner peace. The hall outside is unusually quiet for a school day. Perhaps this room is for afterschool activities or advanced placement. How fortunate of him to have climbed into such a lovely deserted room. Nezumi ambles along the perimeter, admiring each plant in turn.

Just as he finishes his tour, the silence is broken by the sound of footfalls. Nezumi turns toward the room’s sole door. It sounds like only one person. He has no idea how many rooms this wing of the school hosts; perhaps the person will pass him by, but better to not take a chance. Nezumi crosses to the back corner of the room and tucks himself behind one of the tiered plant stands.

A moment later, the lock on the door clatters and the door rolls open. Nezumi peers through the foliage. A young man about his age walks briskly toward a desk at the center of the room. He has shaggy brown hair and a gentle, pleasing face. He looks like just the kind of person who would be in this room. Just the kind of person who would go to Chronos: soft and sweet as a newborn fawn.

The boy shucks his navy blazer and drapes it over the back of the desk chair, then unbuttons and rolls up the sleeves of his white shirt. From where Nezumi is spying, he can clearly see the honeycomb and laurel wreath emblem on the front of the blazer. He glares at it a moment out of habit, then returns his attention to the boy as he pulls his phone and a pair of headphones from his pocket.

Connected headphones, Nezumi notes. He would have thought that all the Chronies had expensive earbuds, but perhaps this kid is old-school.

The boy plucks a spray bottle from the desk and nods his head to whatever music he’s listening to through his headphones as he goes along the window to spray the plants.

Nezumi folds his arms across his chest and deliberates. He could lie low and wait it out, but it’s possible the boy could be in here for a full period or longer. It would be monumentally boring to stay still and quiet for that long. Plus, the boy has evolved from just nodding to the music to full on bopping and mumbling words under his breath, and Nezumi can’t help but be intrigued at what he’s grooving so hard to.

 At last the boy makes it over to the plant stand behind which Nezumi has hidden himself. Nezumi steps forward and rests his head on the upper shelf, directly between two pots. The boy mists the plant to the left of Nezumi’s head and leans to do the right one when his eyes land on Nezumi’s face.

He gasps and jumps back, holding the spray bottle out like a gun and squeezing the trigger. A gentle puff of mist floats through the air and Nezumi bursts into a fit of laughter.

“Priceless!” Nezumi chokes. He comes out from behind the plant stand and wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. “Ah… Love your instinct to shoot me with the mister.” Another bout of laughter seizes him and he has to press the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle it.

“What the hell…?” the boy warbles. A tinge of pink begins to creep into his cheeks the longer Nezumi’s hysterical fit carries on.

The boy grunts, lowers the spray bottle, and pulls the headphones from his ears. The buds still hum with sound, but it’s too faint for Nezumi to make out the music. “How did you even get in here?” he asks. His eyebrows are so scrunched they look like they’re about to knit together.

Nezumi almost laughs again, but masters himself. “It wasn’t locked.”

“Yes, it was. I always lock the door when I leave. And I’m the only one with a key.”

“Well, you didn’t lock the window.”

The boy’s eyes dart to the window and widen comically. “You came through the window?” His fear and suspicion evaporate as he crosses the room and pokes his head over the sill. “We’re two storeys up!” The boy whirls around to face Nezumi. “How did you—?”

Then his gaze drops from Nezumi’s face to his black gakuran. The boy’s eyes spark in recognition of the emblem on its chest and he pauses a moment to reassess. In that moment, he finally realizes his headphones are still emitting faint sounds. He presses a button on his phone to pause the music, disconnects the headphones, and slips them and the phone into his pants pocket.

Then he oh so casually asks, “What’s your name?”

Nezumi snorts. He supposes it’s only natural for a Chronos kid to be intrigued by a West Block one, though this guy seems unusually chill. West Blockers usually garner suspicion from outsiders—heck, from West Block locals too.

“Nezumi.”

“Nezumi?” He doesn’t look like he believes him, but Nezumi stares placidly back, letting him know that’s all he’s going to get. The boy quirks an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards with it. “I’m Shion.”

“Shion,” Nezumi says, unable to keep the delight from his voice. “That’s adorable. Do you have a mini me somewhere in here?” He casts his gaze around the room. “Blue flowers, right?”

Shion tilts his head, and Nezumi senses a slight waft of approval. “Asters come in several colors, but, yes, blue is one of them. I’m named after Aster tataricus, though, which is purple. And, no, there aren’t any here.”

“Ah. Shame.”

Shion clears his throat and moves away from the window. “So… What are you doing here? I don’t think Chronos and West Block are easily confused.”

“Oh, well, you know. I’m looking into joining some extracurricular activities. West Block pretty much only offers graffiti and shiv-making, and I mastered those ages ago, so I came to see what Chronos has to offer.”

“I see.” Shion presses his lips into a line, but Nezumi can see the amusement sparkling in his eyes as he passes by to return the spray bottle to the desk. “I don’t think you’ll find your match here. I somehow doubt you’re interested in botany.”

“Don’t be so quick to assume. I was interested in your flower, wasn’t I?”

“Hmm,” Shion hums. He leans back against the desk and fixes Nezumi with a closed mouth smile. “I call bullshit.”

Nezumi smirks. He’s very glad he decided to engage Shion instead of hiding. The kid is smart, as expected, but more playful and relaxed than he thought a prep school kid would be. Who knew a field trip to Chronos would be this fun? 

“Yeah, okay,” Nezumi relents. “I’m not really that interested in plants. There is, however,” he says slowly, “something I’m very interested in here.”

Shion’s smile freezes at Nezumi’s silky tone and Nezumi’s body buzzes with satisfaction.

“O-oh?” Shion stutters.

“Mmhm.”

Nezumi takes a step toward Shion, measuring his reaction, but there isn’t much of one. His big brain is still apparently trying to download the software to deal with this level of flirting.

Or maybe he didn’t realize we were flirting. It was pretty damn obvious to Nezumi, but conversation is so nuanced these days, maybe Shion thought they were just having a friendly banter. Maybe Shion is oblivious or in denial. Regardless, his reaction is definitely one of gay panic, and Nezumi can and will work with it.

Nezumi takes another step. He and Shion are within touching distance now, and Shion looks sufficiently stupefied. He’s a little shorter than Nezumi—and even shorter now since he’s propped up against the desk—so Nezumi has the immense pleasure of watching Shion shrink backwards and tilt his head up as Nezumi places a hand by Shion’s hip and leans in.

Nezumi holds the pose until Shion manages a faint, “Um. What…is it?”

Bless his soul.

Nezumi takes one more moment to savor Shion’s large dark eyes and long lashes before getting to the point. “I’m actually very interested,” Nezumi purrs, “in what music you were listening to.“

He slips his hand into Shion’s pants pocket and pulls out his phone. Shion blinks up at him, then dazedly at the phone.

“But I also think you’re adorable,” Nezumi adds, because he feels a little bad for leading him on. And because it’s true.

Shion sucks in a breath and tries to snatch the phone. “Give that back!”

Nezumi skips backward, holding the phone above his head where he knows Shion can’t reach it. “Ah-ah,” he tuts.

“It’s just some music! It’s not that interesting!”

Nezumi is intrigued by his level of agitation. “If it’s just some music, why are you so worried? The curiosity is killing me; it looked like you were really into it.”

“Please, don’t—”

But Nezumi has already pressed the play button.

A guttural scream bursts out of the phone’s speakers, and for a moment, Nezumi is dumbstruck.

This guy just listens to people screaming??

But then his brain starts working again and he picks up on the electric guitar and words, and he realizes this is just heavy metal screamo.

“Shion,” Nezumi says smilingly. “This is not ‘just some music.’”

And Shion proves himself not just some prep school kid. With a primal scream of his own, he lunges at Nezumi.

He’s pretty fast and plenty furious, but Nezumi has made a part-time job of pissing people off and saw the retaliation building a mile away. He sidesteps Shion, hooks him around the midsection with his free arm, and presses Shion face down on an open desk. He pins one of Shion’s arms behind his back to keep him there, for good measure, though Shion appears too stunned to put up a fight.

After it’s done, Nezumi considers whether it was overkill to restrain him. It was his instinctive reaction to incapacitate the threat, but Shion is hardly what one would call a threat. Then again, maybe this will teach the kid to think twice before jumping at people, no matter how embarrassed he is.

“I was gonna shut it off. No need to freak out.”

Nezumi presses Pause and places the phone down on the desk in front of Shion’s nose. Shion lets out a huff, his breath fogging the phone screen. His profile looks shell shocked.

Nezumi’s conscience makes a rare appearance and he asks, “You okay?”

“That was amazing,” Shion says faintly. He lifts his head and stares at Nezumi with a light in his eye that is just short of worshipping. Nezumi is used to admiration, but it feels a little weird coming from the boy he just face planted on a desk.

“Are you in Karate Club?”

Nezumi doesn’t bother to hide his look of revulsion. “Do I look like I’d be in something as stupid as Karate Club?”

Shion frowns. “It’s not stupid… But if that’s not it, where did you learn to do that?”

“None of your business. And also, what the hell is with your reaction? What kind of weirdo gets excited about being pinned by a stranger, then asks about their methods?”

“Well, I mean…” Shion appears stumped by the question. “It’s not that weird,” he mumbles eventually, though even he doesn’t sound convinced.

“Unless…” Nezumi considers aloud, “this isn’t new to you? I’ve already misjudged you once, I’d be remiss to do it again.” He glances down at the phone, frozen halfway through SECOND & SEBRING by Of Mice and Men. “Perhaps you do more than headbanging in this room?”

Shion turns red up to his ears and sputters an emphatic, “No.”

Nezumi snorts and smirks as Shion starts to wriggle in his grip. “It was just a question. Relax, I’m not going to—”

And of course, this is the moment when the door across the room opens.

Nezumi looks up and into the face of a petite girl with soft, doe-eyed features and a tousled bob haircut. She is absolutely adorable, and so pristine and preppy-looking in her uniform that he must assume she is another member of this club. Because, of course, clubs have members—plural—even nerdy ones like Botany Club.

The girl’s expression goes blank as her eyes dart from Nezumi, curled imposingly over Shion, to Shion, furiously red and bent over the desk.

Well, this is awkward, Nezumi’s brain supplies, unhelpfully.

The girl’s eyes return to Nezumi, and then a series of things happen in quick succession: a camera flash goes off to the left of the girl’s elbow; Shion gasps and shouts, “Safu!”; and the girl runs at Nezumi and aims a flying kick at his chest.

“Oh, fuck!” Nezumi barks.

Nezumi wheels away from Shion and very narrowly avoids getting the breath knocked out of him by the savage girl. He’s been in several fist fights, but those were with your typical street thugs; this girl is obviously trained.

“Wait!” he tries to reason, but instead, the girl fires some kind of spinning back kick at his face. Nezumi once again barely dodges the blow, but this time he can’t help but lose his balance. He stumbles back against the tiered plant stand and catches himself, but he knows he’s only delayed the inevitable by a second. The girl’s pitiless eyes flash and her muscles tense to deliver the crippling blow.

Shion throws himself in front of Nezumi and shouts, “Safu! Stop!”

The girl freezes. “Why?” she demands. “He was assaulting you.”

“He wasn’t. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Uh, yeah, well…” drawls another voice.

A scruffy-looking youth is standing in the doorway, inspecting the display of their camera. They look younger, between thirteen and fifteen, and their hair is shoulder-length and hopelessly tangled. The state of their hair alone is enough to disabuse one of the notion of them being a Chronos student, but their uniform (a plain white collared shirt, lopsided blue striped tie, and navy slacks) seals the deal.

The raggedy kid’s nose is scrunched in an expression of half disgust, half amusement as they continue. “I don’t know how you could misunderstand this. Looks pretty damning to me.”

They flip the camera around. Nezumi winces. The photo is mortifying. The kind of shot that paparazzi fantasize about taking. Shion goes white and Safu looks ready to kill Nezumi all over again.

“Inukashi,” Shion rasps. “Delete that. Now.”

“Don’t delete it,” Safu says, though it clearly pains her. “It’s critical evidence if we want to press charges.”

“Press charges? Are you serious?” Nezumi laughs at the same time Shion whips around and hisses, “I’m not pressing charges.”

“This has gotten way out of hand,” Shion huffs. He runs his fingers through his bangs, attempting to calm himself. “As I said, it was a misunderstanding. I attacked Nezumi first. He was just defending himself.”

The murderous expression on Safu’s face freezes as she absorbs these words. She narrows her eyes at Shion. “You attacked first?”

“Yes.”

“You.”

“Yes, me.”

“Attacked him.”

“Yes,” Shion sighs.

“And I believe we call that a confession,” Nezumi chirps. He slides away from the plant stand and around Shion to position himself closer to Inukashi and the open door. Just in case. “I’m told confessions are critical evidence should one want to press charges for assault.”

Safu’s eyes watch him like a hawk’s. They clearly say, if you run, I will come after you with zero mercy. Nezumi’s reaction to her level of intensity is 50-50 between amusement and arousal. Maybe he ought to visit more Botany clubs. So many cute faces with unexpectedly ferocious tempers.

“What did you do?” Safu demands.

“Excuse me?”

“You must have done something to him. Shion’s not the type to use violence without reason.” Safu’s gaze rakes over Nezumi’s uniform and her mouth twists into a scowl. “And you’re from West Block, so we all know you’re a born and bred scumbag.”

“Safu, that’s rude!” Shion gasps, and is ignored.

“I’m offended by that assumption. I merely asked Shion if I could listen to some music on his phone.”

“So you stole his phone.”

Nezumi laughs. “Brains and brawn, all in one tiny package. That’s a little unfair to the rest of us.”

Safu bristles. “Don’t patronize me.”

“Calm down, killer. It was a compliment.”

“Your compliments sound a lot like insults.”

“Maybe you’re just not in the right state of mind to receive them. In time, you may actually find me quite charming.”

Safu’s glare stays fixed on her face as she sneers, “I doubt it.”

“Guys,” Shion intervenes. “Let’s not…do whatever this is.” He wrings his hands, trading glances between Safu and Nezumi. “Let’s just…start over!” he declares, as if it’s the best idea in the world. “Wipe the slate clean, and go forward from there.”

No one in the room except Shion cares for this idea. Safu rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest. Inukashi seems oblivious to the conversation and continues staring at and zooming in on the photo on their camera with an evil smirk on their face. Shion visibly deflates and gives Nezumi the saddest set of puppy dog eyes he has ever seen. Nezumi pretends not to see, but it’s useless. As pathetic as it is, he has somehow developed a soft spot for the weirdo.

“Safu, right?” Nezumi asks, keeping his tone level so as not to set her off again. Safu doesn’t deign to respond, but the question was rhetorical anyway. “Really, though, those kicks were impressive. Where did you learn that?”

Safu tilts her chin up imperiously. “I’m in the Karate Club. President of the Karate Club.”

Nezumi blinks. He slowly turns and raises an eyebrow at Shion.

Shion returns the raised eyebrow. “Not so stupid now, is it?”

“No,” Nezumi says meditatively. “I stand corrected.”

Shion crosses his arms and smirks. It’s like watching a kitten crow over a leaf it’s managed to capture under its paw. Nezumi has no choice but to smile.

Now that the verbal sparring match has subsided, Shion gives his full attention to the mangy mutt sniggering in the doorway. “Inukashi, please delete that photo now.”

Inukashi flinches. Their eyes dart down to the camera, pulling it closer to their chest.

Shion looks thoroughly harassed. “You’re supposed to be here to make the Botany Club look fun.”

Inukashi’s face brightens. “This makes the Botany Club look really fun.”

“Not that kind of fun!”

Safu and Inukashi straighten at the outburst. Apparently, they aren’t used to Shion losing his temper, which Nezumi finds interesting. Nezumi has known Shion for all of ten minutes and he feels like he knows this apoplectic botany nerd quite well.

Inukashi better delete that photo before he flies into an embarrassment-induced rage again. In fact, for my peace of mind….

Nezumi plucks the camera out of Inukashi’s hands and flips the neck strap up over their head before they have a chance to utter a syllable. The photo is much worse up close and Nezumi feels a rare lance of shame shoot through his chest. By the time Inukashi squeaks an indignant, “Hey,” the evidence is deleted.

“Sorry, kid,” Nezumi says, relinquishing the camera to the feral teen’s grasping hands. “I have a reputation to uphold. If the other scumbags at WB think I slum it with Chronies, they’ll never take me seriously.”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Safu asks. “You should be in class on the other side of town right now. Better yet, why are you here? As you say, most West Block students wouldn’t be caught dead in Chronos.”

“True. I do, however, think they’d find it very exciting if a West Block student was caught dead on Chronos property. It’d finally give them the excuse they’ve always wanted to revolt.” Nezumi jabs his thumb at Inukashi. “I’m more interested in why this twelve year old is here.”

“I was invited,” Inukashi sniffs. “I’m taking promotional pictures. And I’m not twelve years old.”

They don’t, however, share what their actual age is, so Nezumi is now fairly certain they are thirteen—at fourteen or fifteen, teenagers start to think they’re hot stuff, but thirteen year olds know how ridiculous it sounds to brag about their age.

“Yeah, exactly,” Nezumi says. “Why in the hell did you hire a literal child to take photos for your club?”

“Inukashi is a family friend,” Shion says.

“And a talented photographer,” Safu adds. “They’re already an intern at Latch Bill.”

Inukashi preens.

“Yeah, okay,” Nezumi says incredulously.

He wanders over to the desks and hops up on top of the one he had Shion bent over. The effect is instantaneous: Safu’s face darkens and a blush blooms on Shion’s cheeks. Nezumi smiles and props himself back on one hand, his pinky brushing the edge of Shion’s phone.

“You never answered my question,” says Safu. “Why are you here?”

“Came for the plants. Stayed for the people.” Nezumi’s attention wanders back to Shion.

Safu has edged in front of Shion like a protective lioness, but Shion is either oblivious or actively trying to escape her sphere of protection. He wants to catch Nezumi’s eye, so it’s an easy matter to do so. Shion offers him a smile and all Nezumi can think is that it’s such a shame that Safu and Inukashi gatecrashed their getting-to-know-you party.

Their moony eyes are immediately identified as a threat to Safu’s unrequited feelings and her temper rekindles. “Alright,” she snaps. “You’ve stayed quite long enough. I think you should go.”

“I just got here. And I don’t think Shion wants me to go. Right, Shion?”

“Well, I mean…” Shion waffles between Nezumi’s expectant expression and Safu’s forbidding one. “He’s already here—-and you’ve been saying we need more members!”

“He is not interested in botany, Shion.”

“I don’t like him,” Inukashi chimes in, even though no one has asked for their opinion. “He wasn’t invited and he obviously can’t keep his hands to himself.” They shake their camera at him meaningfully. “I think he should leave.”

Safu flashes her first smile. It’s closed-lipped, but it’s a lovely preview of what a friendly and approachable Safu looks like. “Thank you, Inukashi.”

Inukashi perks up like a dog who’s just received a pat on the head.

Shion starts to complain, but Safu places her hands on her hips and declares, “Majority rules. Go on, then. The door is over there. I’d warn you not to get caught by the security guards, but I’m sure a rat like you won’t have any trouble sneaking past them.”

“Aw, was that a compliment?”

“You gave me one, it’s only polite I return the favor.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Leave before I literally kick you out.”

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving.” Nezumi hops off the desk. “Geez. Your girlfriend is savage, Shion. How do you stand her?”

Shion and Safu’s cheeks flush, and Safu growls, “Shut up.”

Nezumi heads for the window. Inukashi and Safu pull faces, but Shion’s eyes spark. He trails after Nezumi to get front row seats to the shimmy down show. Which is what Nezumi was hoping for.

Nezumi stops in front of the open window and faces Shion. “Well, this was fun. I hope Inukashi takes some good pictures for you.”

“Oh. Thanks. I hope so too. Erm… Well, you’re more than welcome to come to any future Botany Club meetings. I know Safu’s not been the most welcoming, but I promise, she’s really nice and funny once you get to know her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Nezumi says drolly. “I’m not going to join Botany Club, Shion.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shion smiles. “Worth a shot. So I guess I’ll see you?”

“Mm… No, probably not. Unless you want to come to West Block.”

“Oh.” Shion considers this response. “Was that an invite?”

Nezumi laughs. He senses rather than sees Safu tense across the room. “West Block would eat you alive.”

“Probably,” Shion agrees. “And, like you said, being seen with me wouldn’t be good for your reputation.” His good humor dims as the implication sinks in.

Nezumi presses his lips together into a line. He did indeed say that, and it’s true, and he can’t really take it back. “I should go.”

Nezumi climbs up onto the sill. Shion continues to look like a jilted maiden, but Nezumi thinks he might have something to cheer him up.

“Oh, right. I should give this back to you.” Nezumi reaches into his pocket and pulls out Shion’s phone.

“Oh.” Shion takes the proffered phone, brows creasing. “Thank you… But…” He glances at the desk where he could have sworn Nezumi had put the phone down earlier, then back at Nezumi. “When did you…?”

Nezumi shrugs a shoulder.

Shion shakes his head. “You’re a little incredible, you know,” he says softly.

A tingle of pleasure dances down Nezumi’s spine. “I like that. Make sure you save my contact in there as Mr. Incredible.”

Shion’s face lights up. He hastily unlocks the phone to check if Nezumi has somehow managed to add his number, and Nezumi plucks the phone out of his hands.

“Hey!” Safu barks, but once again Nezumi ignores her.

“I’m not magical,” Nezumi chides. He quickly keys his number into Shion’s Contacts and makes pointed eye contact with Safu as he hands the phone back to Shion.

Shion looks so smitten as he stares at his new phone contact that Nezumi wouldn’t be surprised if his pocket vibrated with a text from him any second.

“Alright, I better go before Safu defenestrates me.”

“What?” Shion laughs.

“Ask President Safu. She’s a smart girl, I’m sure she knows what it means.”

Nezumi aims a wink at Safu, edges backwards, then lowers himself down until he’s hanging from the sill with his arms at a ninety-degree angle. He assesses the distance to the pipe, then swings and launches himself sideways. He hears a chorus of gasps as he snatches hold of the pipe and flattens himself to the wall. Nezumi can’t help but glance up to confirm that, yes, Safu and Inukashi’s curiosity got the better of them and all three of the Botany squad are poking their heads out of the window to watch his progress down the side of the building. Inukashi raises their camera and snaps a shot.

Nezumi flashes a smile for a second shot, then carefully shimmies down the pipe until he’s close enough to the bottom to let go and drop down to his feet. He gives a wave to Safu and Inukashi, then points to Shion and mimes “call me.” Even from this distance, Nezumi can see Shion’s shy smile.

He’s barely off the property before his phone vibrates with a text.

What’re you going to save me as?

Nezumi grins and considers before answering.

Metalhead

Don’t you dare

Too late

☠️

Nezumi laughs and slips the phone back into his pocket. He swings around and takes a last look at Chronos. Maybe it’s not such a horrid place after all.

[queenmuzz]

Sehnsucht

My Gift to @mintnoodles as part of @dmc-secret-santas event!

Read it HERE on Ao3

Nero wrinkled his nose at the smell.  He really ought to be used to the smell of decaying flesh, but it never got old.  Especially when it was an animal, like the poor horse at his feet.  Humans were often unfortunate victims of scenes he’d investigated, a good chunk of them being idiots who attempted to summon demons, and another chunk were idiots that went ‘Ooooh, I wonder what that slobbering creature with the sharp fangs is, let me check!’ instead of ‘RUN AWAY’.  Animals were always victims, and never at fault.

Especially with this horse, with a good chunk taken out of it, hadn’t deserved its fate.  He sighed, looking around the farm.  It was pretty silent, with the farmer and his family wisely getting the heck out of dodge, along with most of the livestock…

Most.  Apparently this poor beast, its eyes still open in terror, had not made it.  Nero frowned as he saw the track that led from the beast.  It wasn’t really a track, more like a mound, like a furrow when a spring field was plowed, but the tractor operator must have been drunk, because it went this way and that.  That, along with the dead horse, and the strangest scent, (if Nero had to describe it, it smelled like electricity) gave him a pretty good idea what exactly he was facing. A Chronoskolex. A worm that’s diet consisted mostly of Geryon steeds, it had three annoying characteristics:

It loved to burrow

It liked to snack on horses, demonic or mundane.

And because of the aforementioned preference for Geryon horses, they had time warping powers, proportional to their size.

This one, guessing by the width of the mounds, and the size of the chunk taken out of the horse, was kinda tiny, no bigger than a small car.  Still, considering how annoying these guys were, with their time warping powers making them faster than should be possible, and his… previous encounter with them, it would be best to call his uncle or dad to give them a heads up.

“Devil May Cry”  the nasally voice on the other end was more than enough to distinguish the twins. 

“Hey dad,” It still felt odd to call him by that title.  Vergil hadn’t discouraged the practice, but he felt just as uncomfortable with the title as Nero felt saying it. “I’m out on a job, and I think I came across our favourite time warping demonic worm.

He heard the heavy swump of a hardcover book cover he undoubtedly was reading being slammed shut.

“Are you certain?”

“Pretty sure.  The signs point to it.  Dead horse, tunnel activity.”

“I will be there shortly.  I would highly suggest that you leave the area until my arrival.”

Nero huffed “It’s just a worm… and a small one at that.”  He was really irked that he was treated like a little kid, Vergil was overreacting.

“Still, I urge you to use the utmost caution-”

“Oh come on Dad, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m perfe-”

He never got the chance to finish the sentence, as something wet and slimy had wrapped around  his ankle, and dragged him down into the earth.

🌷🌷🌷

Nero blinked.  Then blinked again.  He wasn’t dead.  At least he thought he wasn’t dead.  If he was, the afterlife was extremely banal.  The sun shone down, at an angle that suggested sometime around noon, the birds were chirping, the trees were rustling with new leaves.  Springtime?  That was weird because it was mid fall when he had investigated the farm.

It took a little bit of time to get his bearings.  He was standing on a sidewalk, in front of an ornate wrought iron gate, that looked familiar, and yet…odd.  He wasn’t quite sure, as it looked completely normal, if a bit rich for his tastes.  Something like those manors owned by the old families on the island.

Speaking of manor, that building behind the gate was really getting his attention.  It was stately and grand, with a lush lawn and a large garden full of flowering tulips and daffodils, further cementing it was spring here.  But it was the facade that captured his attention. He swore he’d seen it before, but… where… or more importantly WHEN.

It took about thirty seconds until he realized what this place was:  Redgrave Manor, the birthplace and childhood home of his father and brother.  But… here it stood here at the zenith of its glory, instead of the crumbling decrepit charred skeleton he remembered it to be.   Knowing what little bit he had gleaned from the twins, the fire that destroyed it and ended their childhoods prematurely was… almost forty years ago.  How long in time was he sent back?  Was this the doing of that weird worm?  It seemed kinda small to move him so far back in time.  Was this permanent?

He didn’t really have time to ruminate on such things because from a batch of tulips, there was a movement of gold that caught his eye, as if he was a magpie.  A head popped up, wearing a wide straw hat, humming contentedly as she pulled weeds.  Nero’s mouth went dry… he couldn’t see her face, had never met her, but he knew exactly what she looked like.  He’d studied that portrait on Dante’s desk countless times, comparing it to Trish’s face.  He struggled one whether to stand here standing there like a creepy stalker, watching his grandma, or to try to sound like a creepy weirdo, trying to get her attention.  What could he even say to her?

And as if she could read his mind, she looked up, and noticed him.  “Oh!” She exclaimed as she got up, removing her gardening gloves and brushing the dirt off of her knees. She had a basket of freshly picked tulips hooked on her arm, and she smelled of damp earth and freshly shorn grass.  “I didn’t see you, young man.”  She cocked her head in confusion, and for a moment, Nero felt like he didn’t have any clothes on, she was examining him so thoroughly.  But after that, she just smiled and asked, “are you looking for someone?”

“Uh yeah…” he began lamely, “is your husband Sp-”  he stopped himself.  Did his grandpa go by that name with his family?  Seemed too stately, too formal.  But maybe that was because in Fortuna, ‘Sparda’ was up there with ‘Jesus’ when it came to reverence.  Not a name to casually banter about.

“Oh, you’re talking about Spencer?  Sadly, he’s out of town-” she paused, and a shadow passed over her face. “For the foreseeable future.  I’m Eva, his wife.”

Nero could only stand there stunned.  His Grandpa, the Former Ruler and Savior of Fortuna, the Demon who threw down Mundus two millennia ago, who his father revered, went by the name… SPENCER!?  That was a nerd name!  No wonder the twins never referred to him with such a lame name.

“Oh…that’s too bad,”  he said, not feeling too bad at all.  It had been ages since he swallowed the baloney that the ‘Saviour’ was some sort of divine figure, but it would still feel awkward to meet the guy that Kyrie’s family practically worshipped.  And would Sparda somehow know who he was?  Would he be disappointed in his grandson?

“What’s your name, young man?”  

“Pardon?” “You never gave your name, and Spencer mentioned having any other…” she hesitated as she looked up at his hair.  “Relations.”

Aw crap…this is not a situation he had never planned for.  To be fair, he hadn’t expected to be warped into the past to meet his long dead grandma, but there was no way that she didn’t have suspicions about how he and Sparda were related.

“Oh,” he laughed nervously, running his hand through his hair, as if to acknowledge her concerns, “I’m from Fortuna, it’s an island off the coast a few days' travel from Redgrave.  I guess… you could call me a distant descendant of him.”  ‘Distant’ was stretching the truth to its fullest extent, but it would do, “My mom never met him either, if you’re worried about-”

“Oh, no… I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to imply-” Now it was her turn to act flustered,  “I knew Spenc-, she paused, and then corrected herself, “Sparda used to reside there, long before we met, and I would never blame him for things he did there, and especially not blame a young man like you!”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and it felt… good.  Like with that simple gesture, he was now accepted by his grandmother, even if she didn’t know…it took all his willpower not to break down and cry.

“You still haven’t given your name..”

“Oh… yeah… I’m”  He panicked.. Should he give her his real name?  Would it fuck up the timeline?  But what pseudonym could he give that sounded believable.  It had to be a Fotunan name, it had to be one that he had heard constantly… it had to be a respectable name. “Credo…My name Credo Elesion”

Her eyes brightened, and she squeezed his shoulder tightly, as she tucked a vibrant royal purple tulip into his jacket breast pocket.  “Well, Credo Elesion, I’d like to formally welcome you to the Sparda family.”

🌷🌷🌷

He always knew the home where Dante and Vergil once spent their childhoods was massive, just looking at the skeleton that was left, but here?  In its prime?  It was beautiful, much grander than he’d ever seen before.  Dark wood panelling covered with paintings and tapestries, busts of statues from different eras.

“Sparda wa-is a collector of all things beautiful,” she explained, as she led him through the central hall. “One of the few things we argued about was how to let go of some of his older items, to make room for newer ones. For example,” she stopped before the only clear spot on the wall, visible the moment Nero stepped in.  “I had to cajole him to donate several pieces of art he cherished to the local museum, in order to make room for… this.”  She motioned to something leaning against the wall. She stepped away, and Nero gasped.  It was a life sized portrait, and he remembered it very well.  The heavily damaged one still hung in the manor, with Dante and Vergil hesitant to send it for restoration (and not because of the cost, he sensed)  This one was brand new, still giving off a faint odor of varnish.  A heavy canvas sheet covered half of it, most frustratingly, the part where he KNEW Sparda was seated.  But he could see Eva, looking regal as a Queen, and below her, her hands clasped on the shoulders of two young boys… “Those are…” he whispered.  The heavily damaged painting he remembered had obscured their features, almost as much as their fathers.  Now he could see their pensive features feeling quite out of character for the two older men he knew now.

“Yes, those are my sons,” she murmured, and he had a sensation that she wasn’t looking at them, but at him, for some reason.  “You have no idea how much effort it took for the two of them to stand still for their portrait to be even sketched, let alone painted.”

“I can only guess,” he grinned.  The only time the twins seem to be able to stand each other’s presence for any length of time is when they both are drunk… or sleeping.  

“Speaking of which… they’re awfully quiet…  DANTE!  VERGIL!  YOUR COUSIN IS HERE TO VISIT!!”  

Cousin, eh?  I can work with that. He thought.

There was a stampede of feet down the stairs, and a young voice yelled out.

“COUSIN LEON IS HERE! WOOOH!”

He shot a sharp glance at Eva.  There was another family member?  

“Ah, he’s talking about my sister’s son, Leon…. We’ve been a bit… estranged from that part of my family for the past few years.  The boys miss him terribly.  So few children of their age live in this area.”  She explained, and he nodded, and made a mental note to ask his dad about this cousin when he got back.

If he got back.  

He shoved the uncomfortable feeling down as soon as a bundle of demonic energy came down the steps, the two entities racing each other to get to the bottom.

It was Dante who got there first. His unmistakable aura of excitability, not tempered by age and tragedy yet to come was what marked him out to Nero.  His grin, showing a gap where he had recently lost a tooth, was hard to miss.

“I won!”  He crowed to the other figure, dressed more neatly, and more soberly.  Even at that age, Vergil had preferred to distinguish himself from his brother in any way he could.  Especially as he had to act like he was TOTALLY not upset that his little brother had won this particular race.

Dante skidded to a stop and stared at Nero, his jaw dangling open. “Dante, it’s not polite to stare.” “But this isn’t Leon!” The disappointment in his voice was palpable.

“No, this is your other cousin, Credo.  He’s dropped by to visit.  This is my son, Dante,” she formally introduced him, even though he already knew so much about him.  “And his brother,”

“Older brother,” the boy clarified.

“Older brother, Vergil.”  

“Glad to meet you!” Nero greeted them, trying to keep his composure.  They were so small.  It was hard to comprehend that the two men he called father and uncle were once children, instead of full grown adults that acted like children.

“Now, I need to get lunch ready for us and our guest, so if you two would like to show Mr. Credo around while I make some extra food for our guest.”  The boys began to protest.

“But mooooom, he’s so….” Dante looked at him with a grimace, “Olllllld.  He looks as old as dad!”

Nero had to bite back outrage, or a laugh, he wasn’t quite sure which.  

“Dante!!!  What have I told you about ‘if you can’t say anything nice…”

“Yeah yeah, don’t say anything at all...” he groaned, and he looked at his mother.  “Can I help you instead?  Vergil likes hanging around old people better…”

“Dante…”  Her voice was dangerously low, and Nero automatically knew that tone, having heard countless times, from orphanage matrons, mostly towards him.  Dante was thin ice.

“I’ll do it,” Vergil interrupted, and Nero was half surprised that he said it without a hint of sarcasm, or obligation.

“Splendid!  While you show Credo around, we’ll work on a picnic lunch!”  She shepherded Dante towards what was probably the kitchen.  

“With Strawberries?” Dante asked hopefully.

“Sorry, it’s not quite that season yet.”

“Awww”

“But we do have strawberry sorbet!”

“YAAAAY!”

And with that, they left both Nero and his…dad standing there.

“Um…well,” Vergil said, suddenly a bit shy, “Do you want to see my room?”

“Sure!”  That was a good enough start.

Nero couldn’t help but marvel at everything as they went up the stairs.  So much beauty and art was contained here, in this house Even the handrails, made of hand carved well varnished wood, were amazing.

“How old are you, Vergil?”

“I’ll be eight in a month and three days.”  

That number sent a chill down his spine and settled in his gut.  Eight years old… the kid had  less than a year of peace and happiness before all this art, this beauty, his entire childhood, would go up in flames.  And Nero had no idea if he could change it, prevent it, or even warn him about it.  Would it make things worse?  Would the kid even believe him?

No, it would be best for him to stay vigilant and silent.

“Here we are…”

Nero stepped into what was the biggest bedroom he had ever seen.  Bookshelf after bookshelf filled the walls.  Most of the upper shelves were full of  tomes that he assumed even Adult Vergil would have found extremely dull, with names like ‘On the Nature of Rosacea’ or ‘The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’, but the lower books seemed plausible for a kid to read, even if they seemed a bit… ahead of the curve for a seven year old.  Swiss Family Robinson?  Nero had read that book when he was nine, secretly hoping that if he managed to escape Fortuna, he could settle on an isolated island and live life free.  And even then, his teachers were surprised that he was reading it at that age.

“Wow… this is your room?”  He looked over at the bed, and was surprised that it didn’t quite fit the room.  The wood frame didn’t match, far too light in colour, and the design didn’t fit the hardwood paneling.  And there was only one.  Which was odd, because his dad always seemed to share a tiny  bedroom with Dante, even with a spare room in the building.  And seeing how they could barely tolerate each other when awake, he had just assumed they must have slept in the same bedroom as kids.

“This is just your room?”  He looked, and yeah… there wasn’t anything about this room that indicated Dante even stepped foot in it.  Everything had its place, even the set of wooden swords that were placed carefully in a display above a polished hardwood desk.  Not a single hint of the chaos that was innately Dante.

“Yes, when father… when he went off on business, he left me his old library.” Vergil huffed and plopped himself on his neatly made bed.

“You don’t share a bedroom with your brother?”  

The look on the kid’s face looked like Nero had just suggested that he should use Yamato to cut a pizza. 

“Ew.  No.  Dante is just too… messy.  He never makes his bed. He talks in his sleep.  He snores.  When mother tells him to clean his side of his room, he sweeps all his stuff under my bed, and then I get in trouble for it.”  Vergil explained, each complaint given the full seriousness of a courtroom civil suit. “And worst of all, he’s always bugging me.  Always asking questions.  Always wanting to spend time with me.”  

Nero couldn’t help but chuckle.  That did sound like his dad, but nowadays he seemed to mellow out, maybe nearly a lifetime of being apart had made him more tolerant of Dante’s presence.

“Oh, he can’t be that bad!”

“Oh yes he can!  That’s why I moved into the library.  I can have my own space, and it has my father's old books.”

“You like books, I take it?”  Nero said as he sat down beside the kid, admiring the collection.  The amount of books could rival a small town’s library.

“Yes… father always liked reading.  Said it…” He closed his eyes and picked up his chin before lowering his voice in an imitation of Sparda, “Helps promote culture and learning.”  Nero couldn’t help but chuckle.  Somehow, despite never meeting the guy, it sounded like it had come straight from his mouth.

“Huh, that’s probably why he has a gigantic library where I live.” he mused, looking up and making a mental estimation at how many books this room had.  There had to be over two thousand.  After he was satisfied with his math, he noticed that Vergil had been quiet for far too long, he turned to see the boy staring at him in wonder.

“Father has another library?”

Crap.

That was not something he had wanted to disclose, but now the demon was out of the pizza box, so to speak.  Trying to backpedal would just make the kid more insistent.

“Yeah… your dad lived where I live, a looooong time ago.  He had a huge amount of books, so we took care of them, and tried to learn about him by reading his stuff.”

“Where do you live?”

Nero hesitated.  He could just make up a place, and Vergil wouldn’t know any better, but something told him that he ought to tell the truth.   Vergil would eventually head to Fortuna anyways, and do… uh… ‘research’.

“Fortuna,” he rubbed the back of his head, “it’s an island where your dad liked to spend time,” he decided to clarify, “before he met your mom.”

Vergil looked at his lap, thinking hard.  Eventually he murmured, “I’d like to go there… maybe I can find out about what Father really did, where he went.  Mother always seems so sad when I talk to her about him, and I would like to make her happy again.”

Nero paused.  Vergil was a good kid.  He had a lot of stuff ahead of him that Nero didn’t wish on his worst enemy.  He didn’t deserve to deal with it all alone.

“What about Dante?”

Vergil huffed, “What about him?”

Nero gulped, but continued, “You like to say that you don’t like hanging out with him, but I get the feeling that deep down, you really care for him as a brother.  Yeah, you need some time apart, but at the end of the day… you like having him at your side.”

Vergil sat there, digesting the information before slowly nodding.   “Perhaps…”

“VERGIL… CREDO!!! THE PICNIC IS READY!!”  Eva’s voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs.  Vergil’s eyes lit up, and he hurried out, grabbing Nero by the wrist and practically dragging him down the stairs.

🌷🌷🌷

Lunch was a delight, with sandwiches cut into quarters, layers of ham and cheese, turkey, and bacon, with finely cut slices of vegetables.  There was fresh squeezed lemonade, and as cheered for before, strawberry sorbet for dessert.  The boys devoured everything (with the exception of the vegetables) with gusto, despite their mother repeatedly reminding them that they had a guest, and that it wasn’t polite to ‘inhale’ their food.  (Some things never changed).

Nero was glad that they enjoyed the food, because for some reason, it didn’t have the same appeal to him. Like, it LOOKED like it ought to be delicious.  The vegetables were crisp, the bread was freshly baked, but everything, including the tartness of the lemonade felt…dull… distant.  Like those cheap drinks Nico bought at gas stations and guzzled constantly, despite them tasting like a can of water shown a picture of a fruit.  Even the strawberry sorbet tasted more like one of those cheap snow cones that had only one squirt of flavouring in it.   Of course, he would remain polite, and smiled and lied about how delicious the food was. 

“Vergil!” announced Dante, after licking the rest of the sorbet out of the bowl .  “Race you to the treehouse?”  He stood up and held his hand out to the other boy.

The older twin hesitated, obviously not really enthusiastic for the idea of spending more time with his annoying little brother.

“Go on…” Nero urged, “have some fun with him.”  Nero might not be able to prevent what was going to happen, or protect him, but at the very least, he could encourage him to make some good memories, to help him remember how much he loved his brother, despite the hard times ahead.

The boy pursed his lips for a minute, looked at his mother for her nod of encouragement, and took Dante’s hand, who helped him up and attempted to look like he was being dragged towards the distant tree, a barely seen wooden structure hidden in the freshly grown leaves.  But Nero couldn’t help but notice he had a small smile on his face, especially as he turned back for a one small glance at what he originally thought was his grandmother… but to his surprise, it was directed at HIM.

He heard a blending of two types of laughter, one eager and excitable, the other more subdued, yet fuller with warmth,  before the wind carried them away.

“I hoped you enjoyed your short stay with us,” Eva murmured, sitting next to him.  She took a sip out of her teacup, her mannerisms in holding the cup resembling a  man he knew.

“Yeah!” he took a sip of the lemonade, attempting not to wince at the (lack of) taste.  Maybe old folks were right, food back in the day wasn't full of those ‘darn artificial flavouring.’  It’s been great meeting you all, coming here and seeing…”  he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to sound like a crazy guy, so he took another swig.

“Seeing your father as he once was…” she finished his sentence, and it was all he could do to turn his head away from her and not ruin the picnic by choking and spitting the lemonade all over her and the picnic.  He spent the next minute coughing and hacking while she sat patiently for him to recover.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that while you were in the middle of sipping.”

Frankly, him looking like an idiot, choking on some lemonade was the least of his concerns. He eventually got control of his breathing, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stared at her.

“How did you…”

“Know that you weren’t who you said you were?”  She said, but there was no anger or disappointment in it.  “Having spent most of my adulthood at Sparda’s side, I learned much about arcane subjects.  Demonic magic, the subtle distinctions of souls, and when someone is where- or in this case- WHEN in the wrong place.  I identified it the moment I saw you.  There’s a …” she placed her teacup down, and picked up his hand.  He was too dumbfounded to pull away or react, not that he wanted her too.  Her hand was so warm, so soft.  “There’s a translucency about you, as if you could exist at this time and place for a limited period of time.  It’s a lot more pronounced now, perhaps you can see it too.”

He looked down at his hand, and he could just make out the outlines of her hand within his, not noticeable enough for anyone not looking for it.

“That means-” he gasped.

“We are running out of time…” she said softly, and there was a little bit of a tremor in her voice.  He wasn’t sure if she was talking about him, or…her and her sons.  

“How did you know my dad was Vergil?” he asked.

She chuckled, and looked out at the treehouse, which now looked faint, like a warm fog had suddenly blown in.  “I’ll admit, I may know the difference between Vergil and Dante by their souls, but even I have my limits with the twins.  In which case, I cheated.  I looked at you, your reaction to the boys.  The way you wrinkled your nose at Dante calling you old.  And the look of longing you gave Vergil.  That sealed the deal.”

Was it just him, or had the colour of the grass they sat upon lose its springtime vibrancy?

“May I have your name?”  She asked one last time, and this time he answered truthfully.

“Nero.  My name is Nero.”  

Her face broke out in a smile.  “That’s a wonderful name!”  He was glad she didn’t ask for his last name.  He wasn’t sure there was enough time to unpack all of that history.  Still, her face turned a bit sombre as she looked at him.  “We haven’t met before, have we?”  She seemed more sad that she would never meet her grandson, than the implications that she would never LIVE to meet him.

Nero thought he didn't have springtime allergies, but for some reason his eyes began to water.  He blinked back the tears threatening to form.

“No… Dante and Vergil talk about you regularly though.  One of the few things they agree on is how wonderful a mom you were.”

He must have inherited those sudden spring allergies from her, because her eyes were now shiny too,

“Oh, they’re still together!  That’s wonderful to hear!”  But she pulled him closer to herself to the point that their foreheads nearly touched, like she was trying to memorize everything about him.  Her hand withdrew from his, and placed it on his cheek, which he couldn’t help but lean into, savouring the warmth.  Every other sensation was becoming muted, even the blue checkered cloth picnic blanket was fading into a dull white.  “It hasn’t been an easy life for them, has it… or for you?” He couldn’t say anything except to nod dumbly, because he was certain that the only sound he could make would be a choked sob.  He couldn’t put the burden on her on how one son would spend much of his life living his life depressed at his own failures and alone, the other cold, tortured by his past and legacy, and alone.

“But you are here, my grandson, a fully grown man, and my sons are alive and together,” she reassured him,  “that is enough for me.”

He managed to keep himself together enough to blurt out, “Me and my fiance…we have three kids we adopted. Vergil loves them, in his own Vergil way.”  He longed to tell her about Kyrie, how much that woman saved him from a life of anger and despair, that she was so much like Eva in her own way, but like his grandmother said, they were running out of time.  But still, as the haze that surrounded them and leeched the colour out of everything got darker, her smile of delight shone through.

“I’m a great-grandmother…” she said with amazement, and Nero’s heart thumped that like Vergil, she instinctively took them as her own, bloodlines be damned.  She pulled his head closer and down, and brushed her lips on his forehead, and that was it.  The dam broke and he began to sob.  He didn’t want this to end.  He didn’t want to leave her to a future he knew would end in her terror and death.  He wanted to protect her, protect the twins, let them live life to the fullest.

“What little time we have been given to be together is worth more than many years of being worried for the future of my boys.  Whatever happens, I know that in the end, things will work out.”

He couldn’t help it, his spectral wings shot out and gathered her in a loving embrace.  There was a small yelp of surprise, and then a contented hum as she realized what was happening.   The world was becoming really dark now, as if he had entered a tunnel.  He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or shut, or if the scant light he saw was just something he imagined behind closed eyes.

Her voice murmured at his ear, faint, almost a whisper.  “Tell them all that I send them my love.”  He nodded, tried to speak, but found himself unable to move.  The darkness was now physical, crushing him, and for a brief moment, he just floated there, trying to figure out what was happening.  Was he dead?  No, he couldn’t be dead, he needed to relay her last message to the twins.  He needed to get back to his kids, tell them how much he loved them, tell Kyrie that his grandma would have adored her.  He struggled at the pitch black that threatened to suffocate him.  He felt, rather than saw his spectral arms struggling against it trying to find something that wasn’t a void of light. 

Suddenly, there was a shift, and a jerk upwards, his right spectral arm had found something to latch onto, or more correctly something found IT, and now was pulling it, and him up.   He hoped whatever it was, it didn’t have any plans of eating him.

Suddenly, he felt the influx of three things, light, air, and sound in abundance.  Blinked teary, gritty eyes. Coughed up, not watered down lemonade, but dirt that was in his mouth and throat.   Heard not the sound of spring birds or the sound of his grandmother’s voice at his ear, but the hiss of a dying demon, the rush of ghostly hooves, and the half frantic mutterings of a man.

“Come on Nero, wake up.”  The nasally voice, much different from the pensive young boy.  Nero heard a grunt, almost a roar, “GET UP!”  and suddenly the darkness that had imprisoned him was gone.

He cracked his eyes open, blinked away more grit. Vergil stood above him, breathing heavily, loose strands of his usually combed back hair flying this way and that.  Yamato was unsheathed, demonic ichor still dripping from the tip, unwiped which was so  his usually meticulous father.  

“WHAT. DID. I. TELL. YOU. ABOUT. THE. CHRONOSKOLEX.” he wasn’t yelling, per se. But for Vergil, this volume of voice conveyed how angry he was at Nero.  “I  SPECIFICALLY told you to be aware and keep your distance from it, especially without me or even your uncle.  Had I not had the ability to arrive quickly…” he wiped his blade on his sleeve before sheathing it as he motioned towards the rapidly decaying carcass of the worm.  There was that telltale odor of ozone that always accompanied a portal that Yamato had cut. “You would have been kept in stasis by its timecontrol, completely motionless, undetectable until you were suffocated by the ground.”  It was that sentence that revealed that it wasn’t anger that was causing Vergil to raise his voice, it was terror.  Terror at what might have happened.   Nero could tell by the way he offered a hand to help him up, the way it trembled.

With a grunt, he swung a hand, and his father yanked him up, overcompensating on the effort so that Nero fell into him.  They both stood there, frozen, waiting for the other to hug, neither one wanting to be the one to initiate it.

In the end, it didn’t happen.  He heard a disgusted sniff, and Vergil’s voice at his shoulder.  “You smell of horse droppings,” and he backed up, as if he was afraid of being contaminated.   Still, it didn’t stop him from brushing off the horseshit infused dirt out of Nero’s hair, his shoulders, his coat… and then he stopped, his eyes transfixed on Nero’s chest.

After a few awkward moments, Nero braved a glance downward to see what Vergil was staring at.  And suddenly froze as well. 

There, set in his breast pocket was a perfectly dried black tulip.  But, on closer inspection, as his trembling pulled it out and held it in the light, indicated that it had been a deep royal purple when it was fresh.  Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could still smell, above the odors of a farm, its delicate fragrance.

“That was mother’s favourite…”  Vergil’s voice was ragged.  

“Her favourite colour of tulip…” Nero finished his sentence for him, and gave him some time to register it.

He looked back up at Nero’s face, searching for something, or retrieving a memory, before rasping out a single name.

“Credo?”

Nero gave him a small grin… “You of all people can’t blame me for going by an assumed name,”  He placed the tulip in Vergil’s hand, cracked his stiff neck, and his grin grew.  “How about we go home, I get a shower, Dante orders a pizza or two, and we can talk about…well” he motioned to the flower, and Vergil nodded.

The older man cut through the air, creating a portal, the inky void beckoning them forward, not scary and suffocating like the deep earth and the tragic past, but leading them to an unseen, but hopeful future.

“I have one question right now…” Nero said as they began to walk through.

“Hmmm?”

“Do we have a cousin named Leon?”

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

The Garden

Chapter One

❥Prince!Park Seonghwa x fem reader

☆ feat. ateez, tomorrow x together, and others

➯a/n: i've had this idea in the drafts for a very long time and it's gone through a million iterations of characters and love interests and something about hwa in the skirt and sword clicked in my brain. i'm still recovering but this idea hit me hard and fast so i decided i'd put something out. i promise i'll stop starting new stories 😭 (shoutout to my gf again for helping this come to life)

✃"I will give you the happy ending you've always wanted."

✫彡wordcount: 2.7k

(✯◡✯)genre: historical fantasy au, drama

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of violence, anxiety, and loved ones passing, briefly proof read

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

𖢌

I hope this letter has found you well.

   The wheels crunch the gravel road. Horses hooves clap against the ground loudly. The waves crash just feet way. The sounds echo through the carriage.

I know it's short notice.

    The sun is casting down from a clear sky. The grass is healthy, green and lush. The ocean is vast and blue, foam from the waves clings to the pure white sand.

Taedemere is in jeopardy. We are at war. Lord Hwang declared it silently.

  It was a bumpy ride. A long one. But you don't seem to mind. You keep your sisters entertained and keep your brothers minds off of the impending war. Doing so, you can almost manage to distract yourself from your own future.

He's already posted spies. Spies in the castle. Gods knows how long they've been here.

  "The dragon fell from the tower. It's shrieks echoed through the kingdom!" You read with enthusiasm, looking at the twins who look back with wide eyes.

It's not safe for them here. We had to sneak them away through the tunnels.

  "Did the prince kill it?!" Seunghee asks, holding tight to your skirt. "He must have," Soojun is entranced by the story, "right?"

There was an attempt on my life. An attempt on the girls in the garden. Another on Kai and (Y/n). They are everywhere.

  You launch forward and scream, spooking the girls back into Kais leg. He's holding back a laugh as he pats their heads. "The dragon soars up from the fog, the princes sword still lodged into its scaly side!"

They are threatening us with no words at all. Lord Hwang is coming for the Taedemere crown.

   "Must you scare them with such stories?" Yeonjun sighs as he tugs the young girls back up to the seat, sandwiching himself between them and his brother.

You must forgive our absence. I have to keep the crown secure until we have a more solidified plan.

   You simply ignore him, "the creature perches itself on the ledge, it's jaws reach for the prince. He backs into the wall and draws his dagger. 'Foul demon! I send you back to hell!' he yells as he dives at it. They tumb-"

It's time.

  The carriage halts. You snap the book shut and lean back to get a look out of the foggy window. Yeonjun slides into the seat next to you and does the same. Kai strains his neck to look out of the window behind him.

Take care of our children. Our future.

  The gates are iron, shining like they were scrubbed everyday. The castle beyond them seems to be endless.

-King Choi Seungcheol

  As the gates open, you can feel your heart beat in your ears. Seunghee climbs on your lap and peeks out of the window, her eyes widen with every second she inspects the castle.

   Yeonjun seems to notice your dismay as the carriage grows ever closer.

He can feel it to. The feeling that your future is being written in stone with every inch you grow closer.

"When I last saw him," he hesitates as he gets your attention. "Prince Seonghwa seemed to be the same. He hasn't changed, he's still your old friend."

  You manage a nod with a small smile, and although he can tell it's forced; it helps comfort him. It doesn't comfort Kai, however. He never liked the idea of you marrying someone so far away. He still doesn't. You're attached at the hip.

   Everyone knows Choi (Y/n) doesn't want to marry for security or position. You made it very clear. It's a miracle that you've been able to avoid it this long. You figured if you put up enough of a fuss, your oldest brother would simply give up. But you are equally stubborn. And now he's King.

  A loud horn startles you, and you instinctively pull Seunghee closer. Your breathing hitches until you realize it's just the castle welcoming your entourage.

   As you come to a complete stop, all of your demeanors change. Yeonjun wipes his caring expression away and straightens his back. Kai lets go of Soojuns hand and fixes his blouse. The twins try their best to hide their awe at the beautiful and vast architecture.

And all you can do is hide your growing anxieties with a polite smile.

  The door squeaks as it opens. Yeonjun is the first one to exit. Soojun eagerly follows, and Seunghee is right behind her. The remaining siblings can hear the fuss from the bystanders outside.

   The middle siblings sit silence for a moment before he speaks up. "You don't have to be afraid."

You look up and let the faux smile fade the second you see his sincerity.

  "Don't I?"

  "No."He shakes his head. He's sure. His sister has nothing to be afraid of. Because- "if that Prince hurts you; I'll be the one to personally whip some senses into him."

You can't help the small chuckle that leaves your lips, and motion for him to leave the carriage first. He does, leaving you alone for a single moment before someone peeks in.

  "Your highness?" You smile at the man in uniform, standing slowly.

  "So impatient," you roll your eyes playfully and take his hand as he helps you step down. "Thank you, Yeosang."

  He bows slightly before leading you to your place in between your brothers and sisters. Your eyes are still adjusting to the bright light, but you can see the large doors open in front of you.

Yeonjun kneels, Kai follows his lead, you follow his, Seunghee following you; and Soojun stands upright just staring at the royal family until you notice and pull her down by the back of her neck without even lifting you head. You can all hear a small snort of laughter, and Yeonjun worries your family managed to already offend them until the King speaks.

"Please, rise."

The Choi family does so and Yeosang, the knight, steps forward. He bows deeply before turning to the siblings. "The Prince Choi Yeonjun. The Princess Choi (Y/n). The Princess Choi Seunghee. The Princess Choi Soojun. Huening Kai."

A man steps up from behind the other family, introducing them like Yeosang had just done for your family. "His Royal Majesty Park Kyujun. The Prince Park Seonghwa. The Princess Park Bongcha. The Princess Hayoon."

Your family bows, greeting him in unison, "Your Majesty." Yeonjun continues. "Thank you for your hospitality, sire. We are forever grateful."

Your eyes are fully adjusted when you rise from your bow. The king is older than you remember, but it has been a long time. Princess Bongcha has grown so much that you briefly wonder if you've found yourself time-traveled. There's an unfamiliar little girl beside her. The prince, your fiancé, has changed just as much as you have. You contemplate if he even remembers you. But those wonders are cleared when he addresses you directly.

"Princess (Y/n)," he has a bright smile and dark hair, that much has stayed the same. "Your highness," you smile back and lower your head.

  Whispers echo through the crowd that's held back by the guards: and it's becoming hard for you ignore them. You wrap your arm around Soojun when she cowers closer.

   "Please, come," King Kyujun motions for you all to follow him, and you gladly do.

    It's been a long journey, but it's only just begun.

𖢌

  King Kyujun leads the Choi family down the great hall and they can't help but marvel in its greatness. To the twins, it's a new world to be explored, coming up with their own stories that go along with the stain glass windows. To the older siblings, it brings back memories of childhood, a time when they didn't have such worries that plague their minds these days.

  Yeonjun can remember his first kiss behind a delicately painted pillar during the dead of night. Kai can remember learning a dance with his mother in this hall, the feeling of belonging. (Y/n) can remember running away from the tutor with Seonghwa beside her.

  As you look over to him, you notice it. "You still have that goofy smile," you've dropped the titles and politics. You're just a girl reunited with her child hood friend and fiancé. "I though you may have outgrown it."

  "I'm starting to think I may not," he laughs a bit.

   "I'd hope not. It's one of your few redeeming qualities," you joke, hiding your smirk as you look up at the new chandelier you pass under.

   He feigns a gasp, a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know that I have many good qualities."

  You hum, turning to him, "such as? Sparring with a squirrel?" He slaps a hand over his mouth to swallow his laughter. Your laughter rings free in the empty hall.

   "That squirrel was a menace! It startled me!" He argues in a low voice. "It had no right jumping next to me like that," he says with an exaggerated frown.

   "Unnie!" Soojun hollers, catching your attention quickly as you see that your little sisters have fallen behind. You make your way to them quickly, scolding them that they shouldn't yell in the presence of the King. "Look, Unnie," she points as she ignores your scolding.

  Your heart speeds before it stops abruptly, face to face with the intricate stained glass window. The sun shines through it, casting colorful lights on you all. It's a beautiful collage of colors. Every tiny piece is fit together perfectly to tell a story.

   You flinch when a hand is placed on your shoulder. The King apologizes, retracting his hand. "You probably don't remember this..." You shake your head and look back to the art. "I remember, sire."

He sighs deeply, and you can feel his energy apologizing even if he says nothing.

    "Come on, there's food waiting." The twins cheer quietly, following the King to the room where everyone else has vanished to.

    Seonghwa joins your side and looks at the window, basking in the colored light as he looks over the picture for what must be the millionth time. In his lifetime, he hasn't been able to find a single flaw.

  He looks down at you. Your skin is painted in a range of blue and yellow, pinks and greens. There's a patchy scratch on the majority of your cheek that's slipped his notice until now. Your eyebrows have screwed themselves up and your lip quivers.

   "Don't cry," he was essentially begging, "please, don't cry, (Y/n)."

You sniff in response, rubbing a stray tear away from your cheek. It's silent between you as you have a staring contest with the glass. "Fuck," you mumble as tears start to fall more often. "Ah, (Y/n)," he coos, moving to block your view of the heartbreaking image.

"I... It's just, I haven't seen them since they passed, Cheol put away their portrait... It breaks his heart to see them, but it breaks mine not to. I almost forgot what they looked like."

He doesn't say anything, simply opening his arms and letting you fill them. After so long, it feels the same. You're still shorter, but you've both grown. He's still strong, but now you caught up. You still turn your head to the left and place it on his chest. He still wraps one arm around your back and places the other on your shoulders. After all these years, you remember how secure he feels when your arms link around his waist. Even with the time that's passed, he can recall the fact you love when he rubs his thumb over your shoulder.

So much has happened to each of you and yet you both still have memorized each other's hugs. You used to be each others safe place. And though you're older and have met again in such pressing circumstances, it remains the same.

"Your highness," the familiar voice is just loud enough to startle you. "Yes, Yeosang?" You questions calmly, and it's a stark contrast to Seonghwas glare at the man. "Your brother asks for you, ma'am." You nod to dismiss him, and turn back to Seonghwa when he's gone.

"How do I look?"

"Look like you've been crying."

You tut your tongue and gently slap his shoulder with the back of your hand. He smiles as you do. "It'll be okay," he assures you as he fixes a stray from your neat hair, "it's dark in the dining hall."

He takes your hand and pulls you away from the image of your passed parents lazing in the garden.

𖢌

His footsteps are heavy. He's forcing his breathing to be slow. His heartbeat is going wild as he gets closer to the Kings quarters.

He steps in front of the guards and they knock on the double doors. "Prince Yeonjun, your majesty!" The Kings response is muffled by the walls, but clear enough for the guards to be confident in opening the doors.

Yeonjun steps in and looks over his shoulder as the doors close behind him, anything to keep his eyes away from King Kyujun. The doors slam shut and he finds a tapestry to inspect.

"Please, sit." He follows his voice and finds himself sitting across from the King on the large balcony, a round table littered in papers separates them.

"Thank you, your Majesty," he eagerly takes the wine he offers, hoping it would soothe his dry throat. He can't remember being so thirsty before the King called for him.

"How do you find your quarters?"

Yeonjuns lips are still occupied with the glass when the man speaks up, and he takes his time before speaking shortly. "Very nice, sire. Thank you."

"And your siblings?"

"I'm sure they're adjusting well, sire. We thank you, again, for your hospitality while we discuss our plans."

When he finally has the courage to look at the man, it calms his nerves. His crown is gone. His blouse is astray. His nose and cheeks carry a rosy hue from the frigid weather. He looks much more human.

"This is, of course, why I've asked you here."

"Of course."

Kyujun leans back into the wooden chair and lets out a sigh. "Once (Y/n) and Seonghwa are married, we will put our combined efforts against Lord Hwang. He's a vicious man," he tuts his tongue, annoyed at the mere mention of the Lord of Kherhai. "I've heard of the attacks on your family. I'm sorry for you loss and... rest assured, we will not let anything happen to you at this court."

    "Thank you, sire."

   "Your sister," he hesitates just a bit, "I've looked into quite a few people to help her plan the wedding. They'll meet with her tomorrow. I know she doesn't agree with the circumstances, but that doesn't mean it must be unpleasant."

   "I'm sure she will appreciate it, sire. She's been hesitant to do any planning on her own."

   Kyujun nods in response. He already knows this. He's kept close tabs on his only sons fiancée.

   "Sire, may I ask when the wedding is supposed to be taking place?"

"This week, if all goes well. Lord Hwang is no doubt sending men this way as we speak to get rid of the rest of the Choi family lineage." Kyujun doesn't seem to notice Yeonjuns pained expression, and if he does: he doesn't say anything about it.

   He, instead, hands the young man a map of Kherhai: diving head first into strategy.

𖢌

[eddiestightywhities]

TID-BIT TUESDAY AS WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by lovelies @inell and @daffi-990—thanks my dudes! you can find inell's here and daffi's here. mine is from my shot!eddie fic which doesn't yet have a title. it's a bit of a stream of consciousness, and so somehow felt right to be written in 2nd person? so, weird POV let's go!! lol

.

You reckon your knees are about to buckle, and you think of Johnny Lawrence sweeping the leg—and you'd maybe laugh at that if your face hadn't stuck when the wind changed, just like your mamá always warned you it would.

Then, you…

Then you don't know shit.

There's nobody taking swings at you. No skirmish. No fist fight. In fact, the only thing fighting you right now seems to be gravity—and whatever’s trying to take you out this time around.

There's this intense, incessant ringing, and you guess it must be in your head with the way it's resonating between your ears; a channel of piercing surround sound, deadening everything else to only muted reverberation. Your vision’s blurring, too, like someone swapped out the moisture in your eyes for your father's tequila, and it's giving you a watery sort of tunnel vision, everything now hazy and unfocused which is freaking you the fuck out and the only thing you can see clearly is—

Him.

He's here, yet all the way over there. Standing tall, directly opposite you, but looking small, somehow, and he's blank-faced, at first, but then cast with this look of revelation that's straight out of an old painting from the Getty museum you both took Christopher to a little while back; like God just took him by the shoulders and said This is how the world really works, Evan—and Caravaggio, or Bosch, or some other old painter dude has captured it in rich oils on expensive, stretched canvas. And you—you'd hoped he'd never find out, didn't want him to have knowledge of any of this shit. Not this, never this.

Then, like clockwork, you're looking at his mouth that is so, so red, which is—that's not right. Even if his mouth is always red, and pouty, and lush, it should never be this red. It's too red. Too, too red. Too much of that bright red that's splattered carelessly across his pale face. And it must be seeping into his skin by now, through his pores, and has to be be in his mouth, and you're wondering if it's warm on his tongue? Wondering if he likes the taste? But then you baulk at the idea because fuck, no, it shouldn't—he shouldn't be having to—and it's frightening him, you can tell, can see the fear blooming in his eyes, his features starting to contort in slow-mo, and oh—shit, shit, shit—is he hurt? All that red, and he’s—no, wait, hang on, he's, he…

Is it blood?

All that blood.

God, you need to get to him so you can—can see, can check him over. You have to get to him, right the fuck now, make sure he's okay and help him if he isn't. And you're trying, you're trying so hard, trying really, really hard, but you can't—can't seem to get to him, can't seem to manage it, can't get your legs to move and oh, yeah, that's right, they're about to give out from under you, remember, Eddie? And you need to breathe, in and out, but you're not sure you remember how, so you start to panic instead—only it feels weird, the fear, your fear. Too slow, and too quiet, and how is a person expected to hyperventilate if their breath is so shallow that it's hardly there at all? And you're thinking about how you don't know what will happen if all this dread has to stay stuffed inside of you, if it can't escape via too-fast half-breaths and shaking hands, and you feel like an African worry doll that somebody stuck pins in; full of holes, so full of holes. Except your holes are bullet holes, and holes of your heart, the ones you got as a little boy that your mamá and papá and the world put there. And all the stuffing's falling out of you, now, and you don't know how to shove it back in ‘cause you have no idea how the hell it ever fit inside you in the first place. And you're scared, too, now, terrified, actually, but you still need to move because you have to get to him, fuck! You need to fucking get to him and wipe all that awful blood off his lovely face, and check if he's hurt, and put your thumb to his pulse point and tell the both of you that everything is gonna be okay—except it isn't okay, is it, Eddie? Because—because he could be hurt. Is he hurt?

Is he hurt?

Dios mio, you have to get to him. Because You need him to be okay. Because he has to be okay. He has to be. Has to. Has to. He has got to be okay because it's him, it's him, it's him, and everybody needs him. Christopher needs him, and—and you need him, dammit.

Oh, God.

.

tags below the cut, play or nay:

@rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @colonoscopys @wildehacked @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @exhuastedpigeon and anybody else who wants to do the thing xp

[thegamingcatmom]

how do you think the denalis would react if the reader sneakily got a tattoo? If it was of their initials or their symbol would the reader get out of trouble?

Do you think MC has a death wish?

...

Jk. 🤓

(Bish will do as she damn well pleases, tyvm.)

(...And pray to God her wives are in a forgiving mood.)

(Better to ask for forgiveness than permission anyway, right?)

(...Right?)

(👀)

.

.

.

Tanya Denali:

*affectionate* excuse?

her darling did what?

don't get her wrong

ofc her mate is allowed to, yknow, be her own person and stuff

she'd never forbid her precious girl anything

unless it's dangerous ofc

or foolish

or reckless

(or doesn't 100% match up with what she has envisioned)

(jk jk)

(or not)

(she can be a bit...overbearing, at times)

so, yknow

all things that she associates with getting a tattoo

how foolish

how reckless

how dangerous

she just doesn't understand why her darling would want to tarnish that perfect skin of hers

and risk it getting infected

or worse

why must this world be so cruel?

why is-

...wait

*stops her ranting because that eyesore starts to look familiar*

is that-

*recognizes the eyesore as their family crest with the first letters of their names (T, K, I) wound around it most artistically*

...

that's-

...acceptable

(she´s already obsessed)

just this once

(also because her letter comes first, as it should)

don't get used to it though

(how about "Tanya" for a next tattoo? quite a nice ring to it, if you ask her)

...

excuse her-

*proceeds to drag MC away to a place where she can thoroughly inspect the eyesore*

yknow, just to make sure it looks...as it should

no infections or anything

that´s her job, after all

ensuring the safety and well-being of her coven members

especially her mate

she´s just the best leader, is she not?

and the best mate

so very...thorough

Kate Denali:

unlike Tanya, recognizes what the tattoo is meant to represent immediately

...

are you kidding her?

...

how fucking awesome is that??

she loves it

especially the way the "K" wraps around the other two letters, partly covering them

(besting her sisters in everything, it seems)

(who´s the top dog now? 😏)

she can´t get enough of it

(she just wants to lick-)

also because she kinda thinks of it as war paint

MC strutting about, showing off her clan as well as her wives like a true Warlord

her little warrior

(so hot)

also because MC´s now literally saying "I belong to Kate Denali"

(so.fucking.hot)

...fine

and to her sisters

but still

(the "K" covering the other letters is all she needs to see)

she fucking loves it

in fact

she already has an idea for the next tattoo

"If lost return to Kate the Great"

don´t that sound nice?

...

...fine

"Kate the Great" will do too

...

...fine

she´ll also make do with "Kate"

...

oh CMON!

(this world is cruel)

Irina Denali:

...

oh...honey

what is she to say to that?

has her sweet baby become a punk now??

did Kate encourage her??

(she wouldn´t put it past her rowdy sister)

they´re going to have a serious conversation about this

what´s next??

a piercing??

one of those dreadful tunnels??

green hair???

not on her watch-

*sees MC blinking at her with those big innocent eyes*

...

*sees MC pouting at her with those lush lips*

...

*sees MC looking all hopeful, most proud of her newest...addition*

...

sighs

she just can´t deny her Angel anyth-

...hold on

*squints*

...is that-

her name??

well, the first letter of it, but STILL-

that´s-

oh...darling

what an honor

her sweet girl putting herself through agony, just for her??

...well, and her sisters

BUT STILL-

she´s a (huge) sucker for symbolism

to see her name, even if it´s just a part of it, forever engraved into the skin of her darling mate?

she´s always known their love for each other is as timeless as their existence

but now it has been visualized

not that she needed any kind of "proof"

she gets to look at her darling mate every day, after all

that is all the proof she needs

but this? it´s just...different

also because others will know as well now...

(not that anyone with eyes would ever doubt it...or dare question their love)

she´s speechless

truly

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

.

.

.

EDIT:

The sisters would be most accepting, btw. (Not that they have a choice, lol.) In case anyone has doubts about that.

They might feel a bit smad about it first because MC got a tattoo in secret though. Like, MC should know (and she does) that she can talk to them about anything without fear of getting judged.

Ultimately though, they´ll accept her choice. ✌️

...After some sighing, crossing their arms, muttering under their breaths probs, lol.

[crazysodomite]

I think we should turn the idea of living vehicles into a speculative biology fiction. A universe where flocks of airplanes rule the sky and trains dig and burrow through tunnel systems and cars speed in the lush meadows. Peace and love on Planet Earth. Being a mechanical engineer in this universe technically makes you a biologist btw

that sounds fun ^_^ i was just thinking of turning an electric train into a creature

[starkraivennemad]

What You Ask For

"I'm SO BORED John. I need something!" Sherlock whined.

“I know luv, headed for the Tube now. Maybe I'll find a murder to entertain you.” John chuckled at the drama. It had been a few of very quiet weeks at home, he knew his husband was at wit's end. 

"Promise?" Sherlock almost sounded hopeful that he would.

"Promise!" John grinned and rang out as he beelined for the train.

As if rush hours on the line are not bad enough, John left his headphones on his desk and of course, he’s now sardined against the doors. Any chance of feeling the air conditioning is close to nil against the crush of bodies at this point and he just prays he’s not a soggy mess when he  finally disembarks.

Because naturally it's rush hour, but the train is crawling...

To the side is an older woman with enough Aquanet in her hair, that if they actually wanted to hive there, he seriously doubted bees could have penetrated the hirsute turban.

And oh, bloody hell already!!!!

Did this guy next to him pour every ounce of cologne in existence in a tub and immerse his entire body in it?

Gee-shush!!

Pinching the bridge of his nose while trying hard to keep his eyes from watering from both toxic scents, he faced the door to stare down into the long expansive blackness of the tunnel before the next stop.  The immense dark was very fitting to his mood indeed.

It's rush hour - RUSH already!

Looking for any distraction to try to pull his mind out of its funk, he notices a tall, dark-curly haired woman in shades in the glass' reflection. He could just barely make out the shape of her eyes behind the dark lenses, but couldn't really see them. She made up for it by having beautiful lush lips, emphasized the more with whatever gloss she was wearing.  They looked as though she drank water not even seconds ago and I all but expected an errant liquid drop to fall. He couldn't tell if his sudden thirst was for this unseen water implied or for the lips themselves reminding him of the cupid bow lips of his love waiting for him at home, providing that implication.

Nope, definitely reminding me of your lips.

He smiles thinking of his husband as she seemingly stares straight ahead, but can't tell if she's really staring ahead or doing the non-dance, all commuters without personal diversions do of looking at anything, but seeing nothing. It's a lovely few minutes of I'm looking at you, but I'm not looking at you to while away the time as he thinks all the things we wants to do with his husband to entertain him.

Come on train!

As if hearing his plea, the train is speeding at its normal pace after the next station.

Yes! Nothing but one more stop between me and kissing you.

As the train is pulling into the station, she slowly lifts her shades and stares up quizzically. It was her, at first what the...? rapidly increasing to OH MY GOD, expression that finally made him stop looking at the reflection in the glass and actually through the glass itself. Her confusion then shock is rapidly matched by passengers waiting on the platform as the train starts to slow. Mesmerized by their expressions, his  mind does not fully register the crimson streaks snaking their way down the panes. 

As the train jerks to its stop, the bloody body that suddenly slides from the curved roof of the train, and is caught on God only knows what to now dangle hideously in front of John just as the doors open. It sets off screams inside and out of the train that get his full attention.

The front of the skull was slowly turning towards him and with a slow sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, that had nothing to door with the bloody horror dangling before him. John realized he recognized what was left of the face attached to it.

You've got to be bloody kidding me!

John suddenly understood why Sherlock grinned at murder scenes his own phone is in his hand dialing without a thought.

Universe is rarely so lazy - careful what you ask for, indeed.

His husband’s melliferous voice teases as he answers “You better not be…..”

“Sherlock!” John speaks over him. “Our former client is dead. Get to Baker Street station NOW.”

[kodapi]

         [✎] to [ @tenebriism ]

     ‹ Another episode — this time a bit more stubborn. An emotional break despite all his work to restrain those feelings, and it nearly consumed his campsite. Lavender and cyan flames had danced upon the lake's edge as it fed upon the lush foliage, unwilling to heed their source for a time as they continued to feast. The rising panic only spurred the flames onward until finally they were subdued and hushed into nothingness again, leaving a young man to stand in the wake of the now-blackened grass with a shaky exhale to mark the release of tension from his muscles. Weary legs would then carry him back towards a cliffside where he would find himself sat upon a small metal pot that served as his makeshift chair, long retired from its days as cookware. ›

     ‹ It had been a few months since he first arrived; a small campsite had been set up within a small crevice offered by the cliffside, the lake and various fruit-bearing bushes nearby all he needed for nourishment and self-care. It would become his new home, long having escaped from Promepolis in the wake of inheriting the accursed flames that tormented him earlier. With that sudden pyre that had just broken forth and was barely contained however, perhaps it would not be his home for long. He would have to consult his map and find a new spot — further away now, further isolated, for if even a single witness had seen the leaping arcs of the unique fire, it was only a matter of time until the uncaring barreled through for him. ›

    ❝ It may need to be further north... ❞ ‹ came his exhausted murmur as he glided his index finger across an old, well-loved folding paper map. It was littered with written notes, marked with key information over his time away from civilization › ❝ Still good conditions, and further away from other cities... ❞

     ‹ By this point, a few hours had passed since the literal flare up, and though he was anxious, the time that had passed had ironically caused a bout of tunnel-vision; any approaching would have the chance to gain the upper hand, at least until they made more obvious or loud noises. ›

[danmat6288]

Prince Mallow, Representative of Nimbus Land, in the Flower Kingdom

Continuing his journey, which began in the Beanbean Kingdom, to explore the rest of the world and its variety of cultures, Prince Mallow traveled past the Rose Way region of the Mushroom Kingdom and crossed the border into the Flower Kingdom. There, he was greeted by the friendly local Poplins, the spiral-striped patterns of the petals in their flower caps reminding Mallow particularly of the more circular striped patterns he'd seen on the mushroom caps of Rose Way native Toads.

Mallow met the local prince, Florian, who was more than happy to meet another mutual friend of the Mushroom Kingdom's Super Mario and Princess Peach, who allegedly, among other friends, saved Florian's kingdom from a hostile takeover by Bowser and his troops. While Mallow had gotten to know Bowser on a more personal level when the two along with Mario, Peach, and the star-possessed doll Geno teamed up to defeat an even greater foe; he understood that the Koopa King was ordinarily a hostile conqueror who was frequently at odds with the likes of Mario and Peach. As such, he said not a word to counter any bad thoughts Florian had of Bowser, despite having seen some of his more redeeming qualities, as he understood fully that Florian wasn't really wrong.

Mallow enjoyed exploring the kingdom and its locals, as well as learning about its vast ecosystem of different forms of flowers and how they shaped the culture around them. He explored a diverse land of open planes and lush forests with refreshing waterscapes, fluffy cloud regions that reminded him of his homeland (albeit much pinker), hot desert dunes with reminders of an ancient civilization, and even a deep fungal forest full of old mining tunnels and a burning lava bog around a dormant volcano. All of these surrounded a beautiful archipelago that acted as the hub of Poplin community life.

The Nimbus prince partook in local entertainment and music activities, tried the local foods, and even did some adventuring alongside Florian with the Flower Kingdom's regional power-ups and badges. Mallow's favorite badges are the ones that improve jumping skills, as he loves the feeling of being able to jump as great as Mario. Mallow and Florian happily continue to keep in touch and maintain relations between their respective kingdoms.

[the-starry-seas]

i would love to learn more about camber 🥺🐠

omg i would love to talk about camber!

So some basic background for the Aces - they were a squad of five clones who were put into stasis partway through the war and not defrosted for another thirty years or so. Ember was the squad's medic. After being released from stasis, he started trying to find his place in the world, and figuring out what he was, if he was no longer part of the GAR.

He's also, poor lad, completely deaf. His squad went through a lot to keep his deafness a secret, but post-war, they didn't have to worry about him being decommissioned. Yay for that! His brother Fury is a tech genius and is able to customise a pair of speech-to-text glasses for him. They're not perfect, but they make it much easier for him to figure out what people are saying.

One of his brothers is a massive nerd about marine life. Tatooine is part of a system with more than one planet. Its neighbouring one was never glassed, and is instead a lush ocean world. Ember and the family take a vacation there to visit a highly renowned aquarium. He has a great time!

Until his idiot brother taps on the glass in the shark tunnel, and one of the sharks abruptly turns and swims toward them.

Ember jumps back from the glass, startled by the bigass shark that now apparently intends to eat them. Unfortunately this means that he accidentally bodyslams some dude walking by and minding his own business.

Ember, being a kind soul, is absolutely mortified that this poor stranger's lunch is now all over the floor. So he insists on buying him another lunch to make up for it! They sit by the sea turtle tank to eat together, and that's when Cam becomes an unskippable cutscene. See, Cam has a lot of opinions on marine life, and two of the things held most dear to his heart are sea turtles and coral.

It's a couple hours later when Cam realises he's been infodumping at this poor man who probably wants to get away from him at all costs. He's immediately apologetic. Ember, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten with this man and wants to know even more.

(His squad is vaguely under the impression that he's been kidnapped by someone, until they find him safe and sound, and the very personification of 😍. They decide to leave him be.)

Cam takes Ember to see some behind-the-scenes things, like the coral that they grow right there at the aquarium. Ember is fascinated and Cam is quickly on his way to being 😍 also. It's really not often that someone wants to hear about the ppt salinity of coral-growing tanks.

Ember is also delighted to have a guided tour of the touch tank for the stingrays. He's enchanted with how soft they feel and how they always stick together in big groups, like clones used to.

At the end of their date, Cam buys Ember a sea turtle plushie. He also maybe writes his name and number on the inside of the tag, just in case.

Ember texts the number as soon as he sees it.

All things considered, their romance moves pretty fast, but honestly, nobody expected anything else from them. They were smitten with each other from day one!

Cam gets a tattoo of a sea turtle, with a love heart in the middle of its shell. He is very serious about how he loves Ember enough to get a scientifically inaccurate sea turtle tattoo, because sea turtles never have heart shapes in nature. This turns into him infodumping about the makeup of their shells, and Ember is very happy to hear it.

Ember himself has a tattoo of two stingrays swimming together! Because just like the rays are never on their own, he and Cam will never be alone, because they'll always have each other.

(His squad thinks he's extremely gross and sappy. They all ship it, though.)

Cam is the one who brings up having a kid. With all the sci-fi shit going on in Star Wars, it's possible for them to have a baby that's made of their combined genetic material. Ember had no idea that it was a possibility, and he's just as delighted by the idea.

They get to visit the baby-growing facility and Ember is always talking to her. Telling her how much he loves her, and how excited he is to meet her, and calling her the most glorious gift he could ever have. Cam likes the sound of kote, and asks what it means. And that's how she gets her name!

Kote, of course, goes to the aquarium all the time. She's a fan of all the schooling fish, but from the moment she first sees them, she's obsessed with the sharks. (Ember is not impressed. Anything for his beloved princess, but sharks. Does it have to be sharks?)

They have their baby shower at the aquarium. Everyone saw that coming. Cam's parents are slightly overwhelmed by the squad's, well, overall loudness and exuberance, but they've all always liked each other. Cam's mother makes a beautiful sea-themed blanket for the baby, and Cam and Ember are both in tears over how beautiful it is.

[msweebyness]

Miraculous Barbie: Ondine’s Swan Lake

Please enjoy the second part of my Barbie movie adaptation series, with Ondine as the lead dancer! @imsparky2002 @artzychic27

"You're braver than you think."

CAST:

Ondine Rivas as Odette

Lê Chiến Kim as Prince Daniel

Missy Rutherford as Lila the Unicorn

Caline Bustier as The Fairy Queen

Gabriel Agreste as Rothbart

Lila Rossi as Odile

Denise Cabello as Carlita the Skunk

Simon O’Connor as Ivan the Porcupine

Anais Ackerman as Erasmus

Arturo Rivas as Odette’s Father

And so our story begins…

Long ago, in a faraway kingdom, in a peaceful village there lived a beautiful maiden. Her name was Ondine, and she was the daughter of the village baker. She was known through the village for her fiery red hair, gemlike teal eyes, and the fact that she was an exquisite dancer!

Ondine, however, was a sweet, quiet and rather shy girl, content to keep to herself and assist her father in the bakery, dancing around the kitchen with a smile on her face. She also happened to be quite athletic, loving to swim and run…but always by herself.

Her father, Arturo, sometimes worried about her and would suggest every now and again that she attend the dances that took place in the village. But Ondine would think of everyone there staring at her and she just couldn’t do it.

Not far away, in the palace of the kingdom in which this village laid, lived the energetic, adventurous, and rather strapping Prince Kim. He was always up for a challenge, loving to be told he couldn’t do something just to prove the person wrong. He loved to hunt and explore the wilderness around him…but not without reminders from his mother, Queen Mai, that he would soon need to choose someone to marry and rule by his side.

Back in the village, Ondine was content with her peaceful, quiet life…but that life was about to change. One fateful day, while Ondine was laying out the day’s inventory, she couldn’t believe her eyes when a unicorn ran right by the bakery’s window, chased by several villagers with weapons. Afraid they might hurt the beautiful creature, Ondine followed close behind.

But the unicorn was clever and escaped her pursuers several times, even using a stray ax to cut a rope around her neck short. She then proceeded to take off into the forest, with Ondine being compelled to follow her, partly because of the rope still around her neck, which could cause trouble.

Ondine followed the unicorn to an old fallen tree that led into a waterfall, and rushed to help her when she slipped. But the unicorn got back up and slipped through a passageway behind the falls that she opened with her horn, giving the redhead a look that said “Well, are you coming?” Hesitantly, the girl followed just as the passage slipped closed again. She emerges from the stone tunnel in a clearing in the midst of a gorgeous and lush forest, by a crystalline pond.

Ondine heard alarmed winnying and came upon the unicorn once more, and sure enough, the rope still tied around her neck had gotten stuck in some tree roots. Spotting Ondine, the unicorn asked in perfect English if the girl planned to just stand there gawking or help her, shocking Ondine. But nonetheless, she went to look for something sharp to cut the rope.

Ondine comes across an ancient tree, and sees something shimmering in its trunk. She gets closer and sees that it’s a beautiful crystal, which she goes to pull out to cut the rope. She is able to pull it out easily, to the surprise of her unseen observers, a skunk named Denise, a porcupine named Simon, and the Fairy Queen, Caline.

Ondine returns to the unicorn, who is shocked to see her holding the crystal, as the fairy queen and the animals approach. Ondine apologizes and tries to return it, but Caline tells her the crystal belongs to her now and that they’ve been waiting for her for a long time. She also thanks her for helping the young unicorn, whose name is revealed to be Missy. She then scolds Missy, reminding her that she knows better than to venture into the realm of humans, as a creature from the Enchanted Forest can be killed by one. Missy apologizes but states she had thought she might be able to find something to defeat someone she calls “Bird Brain”.

Caline then goes on to explain to Ondine the importance of the crystal she holds. She tells her how, many years ago, her cousin Gabriel had lived peacefully in the Enchanted Forest with her and the other magical creatures. But when the time came for her uncle to choose his successor as the ruler of the forest, he had chosen Caline over Gabriel. Furious, Gabriel left the forest...only to return years later with his daughter, Lila, in tow, now a master of dark magic. He began taking over parts of the forest, with Caline's attempts to force him to leave proving futile. Many of the Forest's bravest elves, including Simon and Denise, banded together to try and confront him, but were transformed into common forest animals and forced to build his new, dark palace.

Caline then tells Ondine that as the one who freed the crystal from the tree, she is destined to overcome Gabriel's dark powers and save the forest from certain destruction. But the very thought of taking on a dark sorcerer and being responsible for saving an entire realm, and summarily letting all those people down, terrifies Ondine and she wants to return to the village, sure that this must be a mistake, disheartening the Enchanted Forest creatures. But Missy can sense that the Fairy Queen sees something special in the redhead, and decides to go after her.

As they are walking back towards the entrance, Missy gives Ondine a very...eccentric and unusual pep talk, but some of her words are solid, and she assures Ondine that she can tell the girl is a lot braver than she believes herself to be. But at that moment, two enormous, dark birds swoop down from the sky, before transforming and revealing themselves to be Gabriel and Lila.

The two mock Ondine about how she could possibly be the hero of the forest, before Gabriel asks Lila if she would like a new feather pillow. He then uses his dark magic to transform Ondine into a swan!

Before he can do any more damage, Missy rams him with her horn, allowing Ondine to fly away. She meets again with Caline, who presents her with a crown that contains the magic crystal, which will protect her from Gabriel's dark sorcery. It's then that Gabriel reappears, confronting Caline and demanding she hand over the magic crystal, but the Fairy Queen refuses. Gabriel tries to attack Ondine with his magic once more, but the crystal serves as a barrier. Frustrated, he retakes his bird form and flies away with Lila, who complains she didn't get her feather pillow.

Ondine asks Caline if she can change her back into a human, but sadly the Fairy Queen's powers are not strong enough to do so. Like with Simon, Denise and the other elves who were able to escape Gabriel's palace, Caline is able to change her back into a human, but only until the sunrise. At daybreak, she will change back into a swan, the same as the elves transform back into animals.

Ondine resolved that there must be some way to defeat Gabriel, and Caline tells her that the answer lays in the Book of Forest Lore, which can only be opened by the bearer of the crystal. Missy volunteers to take her to the book, which Caline explains is guarded by an…eccentric troll named Anais. She gives the two a magical leaf to serve as a key to the book’s vault and sends them on their way.

Meanwhile, in the palace, Kim is supposed to be preparing for the ball his mother has arranged, inviting eligible young ladies from all across the kingdom, while all he hopes is that maybe he can at least form something of a real connection with one of them. He also knows that the best season for hunting will soon pass...

Back in the Enchanted Forest, Ondine and Missy reach the entrance to the forest vault, and use the leaf-key to enter. They enter the massive library, and are greeted by Anais, who is excited to have some company for the first time in ages. Unfortunately, the library is quite messy, and the three spend all night searching for the Book of Forest Lore, and Ondine changes back into a swan at daybreak.

In Gabriel's dark palace, Lila complains that she has nothing to wear, even as she combs through her scores of jewelry and dresses. As Gabriel paces the room deep in thought, she asks why he can't simply destroy Ondine, seeing as 'any old human could do it!' Gabriel then realizes that now that Ondine is a creature of the Enchanted Forest, not even the crystal’s magic can protect her from a human! And so he puts a plan into action…

The next evening, when Kim is out riding and hunting in the woods, he’s led by the biggest eagle he’s ever seen into the Enchanted Forest, when he spies a gorgeous swan flying through the air, though he doesn’t see the eagle pursuing it. But as he readies to take the shot…he can’t, mesmerized by the lovely creature. And it’s a good thing, because as the swan lands, the sun begins to set, and the bird transforms into the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his life. He approaches her, surprising Ondine, who asks how he got into the forest, adding a hasty “your highness” to the question. Kim is surprised she knows who he is, and Ondine explains that she lives in the village. Well, she did, before, you know…

Angry that his plan failed, Gabriel swoops down as Ondine is explaining everything that’s happened to her to Kim. The prince angrily calls Gabriel out for trying to use him to kill the girl, to which Gabriel scoffs and goes to attack him with magic, but Ondine steps up to shield him with the crystal. Gabriel goes to attack again, but is distracted by a screeching Lila, who is in the midst of being bombarded by some of Denise’s skunk friends.

Ondine and Kim begin talking and a crush is quick to develop on both sides as she shows him around the Enchanted Forest. He comes to see her for the next few nights, the two discovering they have quite a bit in common, such as a love for athletics and similar, goofy senses of humor. On one night he comes to visit, the elves even set up a romantic picnic for them, leaving both flustered. On this night, he asks her to come back to the palace with him, where she’ll be protected from Gabriel, but Ondine explains that she has to help the creatures of the Enchanted Forest. He understands, but invites her to attend the royal ball in a few days, to which she agrees. Before he leaves, Ondine asks him to tell her father that she’s alright, and he promises to do so.

Kim arrives at the bakery, but finds Arturo isn’t there. The local cobbler explains that the man is out looking for his daughter, and Kim asks the man to send the baker to the palace once he returns, and the cobbler agrees.

Back in the forest, Anais has finally located the Book of Forest Lore, and brings it to Caline and Ondine. Reading it, they discover that the bearer of the crystal can defeat any evil magic when joined with one they truly love, and who loves them in return. The Enchanted Forest creatures rejoice at this, as everyone could see the sparks flying between Ondine and the prince. However, the book also says that if the one the bearer loves swears love to another, the crystal’s power will be lost.

And so the magical creatures prepare Ondine for the ball so as to ensure Kim will pledge his love to her. Ondine doubts this will happen, as Kim is the prince while she is a mere baker’s daughter, but Caline reassures her that she is beautiful inside and out, and gifts her a gorgeous dress for the ball (Odette’s Ballgown). Ondine is also nervous because she has never danced at a royal ball, and a few of the elves demonstrate, with Simon doing a lively river dance and Denise a vivacious salsa number. Ondine herself performs a gorgeous ballet dance with all the elves, that they all assure her will be perfect!

However, just after this, Gabriel swoops down and abducts Anais, carrying them away to his castle, along with the Book of Forest Lore. Having used too much of her magical powers, Caline is unable to stop him. Having transformed back with the sunrise, Ondine, Missy, the elves and the Fairy Queen make their way to Gabriel’s castle to rescue Anais.

Reading the Book of Forest Lore, Gabriel discovers the crystal’s weakness, and devises a plan to trick Kim into professing his love to Lila in place of Ondine, by way of a magical necklace that disguises his daughter as the one the prince truly loves, i.e. the redhead. Anais angrily declares that his plan won’t work, prompting Gabriel to transform it into an inchworm.

Outside the dark palace, Ondine and her companions devise a plan to rescue Anais. Ondine flies to the entrance near the roof, with Missy and the enchanted elves providing cover and diversion for her. There are a few close calls, but she manages to get in and save the transformed Anais, who explains Gabriel’s plan to everyone. Ondine resolves that she must go now, regardless of the dangers, if she’s to have a hope of saving everyone. If Kim sees her as a swan, he’ll realize he’s been tricked, and they’ll still have a chance! With that, Ondine leaves for the palace.

That afternoon, Kim is waiting for Ondine at the ball, his parents eager to meet the girl that’s captured their adventurous son’s heart. It’s then that Gabriel, having spelled himself to look like Arturo, arrives with the disguised Lila, and sure enough, Kim sees Ondine in her place when he looks at her, and takes her to meet his parents. Lila is a surprisingly good actress, and is able to imitate Ondine quite convincingly.

With that, Kim takes to the dance floor with Lila, with Ondine, in her swan form, having just arrived. She desperately tries to get the prince’s attention, but Gabriel uses his magic to shut the windows, keeping her from entering.

Overhearing Kim ask the disguised Lila if she would consider being his bride, Gabriel approaches the two and asks the prince if he truly loves her. Believing the girl he speaks of to be Ondine, he answers wholeheartedly that he does. Outside the ballroom, the real Ondine collapses as the crystal is stripped of its power. It’s then that Gabriel removes the enchantments on himself and Lila, revealing the horrible truth. Kim demands to know what he did to Ondine, with Gabriel sneeringly answering that he himself doomed the girl when he swore his love to Lila, who mockingly asks when they should have the wedding, before leaving with her father.

As the sun sets, the unconscious Ondine returns to her human form, Gabriel stealing the crown from her cold forehead and presenting it to an eager Lila after he removes the crystal. He affixes the crystal to his collar and prepares to destroy Ondine. Only for Lila to call out for him just in time to dodge a strike from the prince’s sword. Gabriel shatters Kim’s sword with his magic and mocks the boy as the Enchanted Forest denizens arrive, pulled in a coach by Missy. Caline assures the distraught unicorn and elves that Ondine is still alive, sending her magic sprites to retrieve the girl as Kim distracts Gabriel.

Gabriel fires a spell at the prince, who ducks behind Lila, causing it to hit her by mistake, transforming her into a pig! Lila begins to throw a fit, but Gabriel leaves to pursue the coach with Ondine, telling Lila to be quiet for the first time in her life. They flee for the Enchanted Forest, but Gabriel crashes the coach. He demands they hand Ondine over to him, but Missy, Denise and Simon step up to shield her. Caline tells him to leave Ondine alone, as it’s her that his fight is with. Gabriel agrees and the two engage in a battle of magic, which ends when he transforms the Fairy Queen into a mouse! Missy and the two elves try to fight back, but he easily repels them.

Just as Gabriel is again about to blast the sleeping Ondine with his magic, an arrow stops him in his tracks. As the dark sorcerer prepares to deal with Kim once and for all, Ondine awakens and sees the prince in danger. She rushes to help him, drawing Gabriel’s attention, and Gabriel sends his dark magic towards her, only for Kim to try and shield her, knowing she no longer has the protection of the crystal, sending them both to the ground, their hands clasped together.

As Gabriel prepares to destroy them, the crystal around his neck begins to glow brightly, the same color as when it was used by Ondine before, revealing that its power isn’t gone, reawakened by the love between the swan maiden and the prince and their sacrifice for one another. Gabriel is overwhelmed by the magic of love within the crystal, and loses his dark powers. His castle crumbles and all of his evil spells are undone. The elves regain their original forms, along with the Fairy Queen. Life and light returns to the entire Enchanted Forest, as Ondine and Kim awaken in each other’s arms, the curse on the girl lifted. Relieved that their ordeal is finally over, the two share a kiss.

Two years later, the entire village is celebrating the two’s engagement in the Enchanted Forest, and Arturo asks the prince a very important question: How many layers for the wedding cake?

And they all lived happily ever after! (Except for Gabriel and Lila, who spent the rest of their lives as cuckoo clock birds!)

Spread your wings and fly! Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs, and watch for the next installment!