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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Ducktales: Terror of the Terra-Firmians! (Lena Retrospective) (Commission by WeirdKev27): Launchpad Looses his Last Brain Cell and I Loose My Patience

Welcome back Weblena Warriors to the second part of my look at everyone’s favorite Emo Teen Shadow Lesbian Duck... and probably the only one but hey, semantics, Shadow Into Light, which was made possible by viewers like you, the ultra humanite and a commission from WeirdKev27. Picking up where we left off, we have our first episode that has a different intended order than airing order.

As most of you probably remember, but some of you who joined later might not be aware of the broadcast order for the first half of season one is, in the academic sense, pretty fucked. It’s not Darkwing Duck’s entirely fucked by a web of badger spiders and a queen snake on top to make it some sort of train situation, but by just sorta airing whatever episodes they wanted to, Disney messed with the character balance so Huey got less focus, not that he got a ton of focus this season but still, as well as leaning into the episodes focusing more on the kids with less involvement from the adults which gave the wrong impression about the series. While it IS very focused on the triplets and webby, the show isn’t entirely about them, but as Frank has mentioned a few times, Disney Channel apparently has this WEIRD thing where they assume kids won’t like stories starring the adult characters.

Yeah I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while. Mostly how it’s so dumb I could swear Pauly Shore was an exec at Disney Channel. And he might be I don’t know what he’s doing these days and i’d like to keep it that way. For starters, the Scooge comics, while barely published in the US these days, are still popular globally and have appealed to kids and adults for generations and are mostly focused on him, with the kids in a supporting role and Ducktales, you know the thing your directly remaking here, was also mostly about him with the triplets supporting, if a bit less than the comics. Most of the Disney Afternoon was about adult characters, with any kids in side roles in the main cast. And it comes off entirely hypocritical of them to say this when the MCU is easily marvel’s biggest cash cow at the moment, and marvel properties have appealed to both kids and adults, like the duck comics, for decades. And if it’s because the marvel cartoons weren’t doing well , I’ll let you in on a little secret: Those didn’t do well because they looked bland and from what I’ve seen of them felt kind of bland, though I haven’t seen enough to fully judge. Kids LIKE adult characters as much as kid characters, and also like teen characters despite not being teens. Focusing on either is valid and while I LIKED Disney’s youth starring shows I also want another X-Men cartoon before I turn 50, and I bet kids would like that too, with the last one only failing because you bailed on it because you were throwing a hissy fit over fox having the movie rights, and do not get me started on that. Point is this argument is horse shit and should stay in the stables.

So yeah I do think this episode came too soon and it’s placement effected it at the time and as such it dosen’t have the best rep with the fandom aside from the Lena bits and that includes me. The fact it was very early in the series and the characterizations hadn’t yet sunk in really hurt this episode in places but is it really that bad? Join me under the cut to find out

We open at the movies! Which scrooge apparently hasn’t been too since the 1930′s or seen any on video despite Della existing and being really stubborn.

A rant for another episode. But the kids just got out of a Mole Monster movie, along with Lena, Beakly and Launchpad. Their reactions are as follows: Lena, Webby and Dewey really enjoyed it, Huey found it unrealistic... says the boy whose uncle fought a dragon made of gold a month or two back but we’ll get to that, and Louie was bored and felt it didn’t have enough of the ultra violence, kids these days it’s not about the gore it’s about the tension. And Beakly.. is just pissed Lena tricked them into seeing this and said it was educational. And the more I think about it the more this sounds like BEAKLYS fault than Lena’s. BEAKLY is the one who likely bought the tickets, who saw it was likely an r or pg-13 and who as we’ve seen HAS A PHONE, and ulnike scrooge probably isn’t so stingy she wouldn’t spring for a smart phone, so she could’ve just googled it, or whatever bird related pun is in this version.. gandered it.. yeah let’s go with that, gandered it, and SEEEN it wasn’t appropriate or walked htem out of the theater and ate the cost if she was that bothered by it. Sitting through a Horror Movie you didn’t research, didn’t pull the kids out of and dind’t bother to even check the poster for or use basic common sense is YOUR fault. And this could’ve worked fine, had Lena talk the kids into begging for it or had launchpad take them and have Beakly find out after, having driven to pick them up as she didn’t trust launchpad to take them home. Instead it makes the former super spy look REALLY stupid and feels really out of character for a SPY to not to do research. And it wasn’t like they decided on this later, Bentina being a spy was part of the character’s backstory from day one and its made clear as early as episode 2 in both airing orders. This is just lazy writing to justify the episode and I expect better from this crew.

But an argument errupts between Huey and Webby over the Terra-Firmians, a hidden race of rock people living in Duckburg’s discontinued sewer system, allegedlys. So Lena suggest simply going down which gets a disapproving look from Beakly, despite you know this being their bread and butter, and the fact that if she had a problem with Scrooge not being involved.. she could just call him. Exploring fabled rock people is something he’d be into. I mean there’s a low profit margin but it also costs him almost nothing to walk to the theater or have launchpad swing around and pick him up. Just gas which given how much he pays for jet fuel isn’t a big ask. But Beakly soon gets distracted by Launchpad whose convinced the film is real and is attacking the poster a grim sign of things to come as while Beakly annoyed me in this one on rewatch, especially after realizing the above... Launchpad annoyed me both times and for VERY good reason we’ll get into. This provides a distraction and allows the trio to escape. Cue titles.

After the title sequence, our heroes head deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town... I mean props to Donald for trying something new but he really needs to rethink his cologne choices. Sex Panther is just.. not a good smell on.. anyone.

So our heroes journey through the depths of the subway system, and we find out part of why Huey’s so skeptical, as he finds anything that isn’t in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to not exist, though the cracks in this already show as he’s added anything that does. We’ll get back to this later but as you can tell the basic dynamic for 24 minutes is Webby being a wholehearted True Believer and Huey being a Skeptical Sally. And Lena is just sorta “Eh gives me an excuse for shenanigans” about it. We also get a peak into webby’s mind as we see her notes .. which really just come off as Terra-Firmian fanfiction involving a war of succession between two sides, the terra’s and the firmies, something based on previous media, and also some doodles of a fictional candy called webby-dings and herself as a superhero, both things I want to see.

But yeah the first third of the episode is pretty simple, just them journeying, the occasional shift in the firmament, and it’s not bad, and there are a few great bits: Huey nerds out about rocks, and finds them way more interesting than a possible rock monster.

Which leads to the best gag of the episode as when Huey tries to pick up a big sample Webby, annoyed at his hyperfixation on the JWG, asks him to ask his book for help.. which he does by reading it and actually manages to pick the large rock up. This is halted though when Lena screams.. though she really just did it to draw them to an abandoned subway car full of glomgold posters for glomgold products because of course a failed subway project has his name plastered over it. You can’t spell glomgold without failure.. the failure is silent. Glomgold is not.

The fun is interuptted though by a livid Beakly who had realized they were missing in an earlier scene, after telling the Manager that McDuck Industries would pay for the poster.. and then found out Launchpad also destroyed the toilets “They come up thorugh the sewers!”. Launchpad that’s CHUDS, Ninja Turtles and Rats who raised Ninja Turtles like their own sons, mole people dig or use old mineshafts. It’s basic mole science. Also Beakly really shouldn’t sweat it, I just assumed the city has had a runnig bill witht he company for “McDuck Family and Employee Related Accidents, Mayhem and Shenanigans”. I mean he’s had Gyro on his payroll for at least a decade and a half by the series start, Gyro has leveled whole sections of city in an afternoon more than most giant monsters. Of which several have destroyed Duckburg. It got better.

Point is she’s livid about them sneaking off with Lena pointing out their some sort of adventure family and Beakly.. saying she won’t see them again, or at least implying it hard. I’ll put a pin in this, as the train buckles and a bit of seismic, or rock men, activity means their stuck. So they divide into teams: Beakly will go try and unhook the train car from the busted cars so they can ride out, Launchpad will go try and fix it, and we get this lovely exxchange as a result

Launchpad: Cool never crashed a train before Beakly: Can’t you try driving it without crashing it? Launchpad: Wha?

His face in that scene is priceless. He takes Dewey along. More on that in a second. Webby, Huey and Louie are told to stay put with Beakly only bringing Lena along because she dosen’t trust her. So since we have three split plots for a second... let’s split up gang, starting with the most aggrivating, middling with what you all came here for and why this is part of the retrsopective, and ending with the plot that directly heads into the final part of the episode.

Launchpad and Dewey: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay starting with the most infamous plot and easily the worst part of this episode, probably the worst plot in any Ducktales 2017 episode. That’s not hyperbole it’s really that bad and really pissed people off, as fans of the original launchpad felt they made him overly stupid. This is where the airing order’s a problem as putting an episode with a subplot where one of your characters is obnoxiously dumb right up front means they assume this is his charcter and not just one poorly written chapter in a very dumb but very loveable characters life, likely because the writers hadn’t figured out how to properly scale his stupidity with comptience.

So as a result we get a good 3-4 mintutes if not agonizingly more of Launchpad assuming something he saw in a fucking movie film was real. That.. that’s his actual plot. Need I remind you, he’s in his late 20′s early 30′s. He’s not much older than me. While other episodes have him as dim this one claims he CAN’T TELL FACT FROM FICTION.

There are lines you have to keep with your characters to keep the audience from hating them. They crossed it about 80 times with this plot and make Launchpad into a gibbering dunderhead who can’t do anything right versus a regular dunderhead whose good at one or two things and loveable enough for us to like him and not care about his numerous safey violations and child endagerment charges. Thankfully this is the ONLY episode that gets this bad and they clearly learned from this, but it dosen’t make it any less of a tough sit.

Dewey spends most of the subplot with a look on his face that just screams that he’s as done with this bullshit as we are, as Launchpad assumes he’s a mole person and brought along a pipe to presumibly bludgeon him, because wanting to cave his best friends skull in over stupidity is a GREAT look> Thankfuly he does not. And when the lights come back on Launchpad.. assumes he’s a monster because of bright light, GAH, and locks him out before they end up outside and the plto resolves itself by Dewey pointing out by Launchpad’s utterly baffling logic that he could be a mole monster, so Launchpad.. assumes he is.

The subplot’s later buttoned up as he claims “I love being a mole monster”, again diffrent subteranian creature launchpad, she says he’s not and my suffering is thankfully at an end. This plot just sucks, it’s bad, overly stupid and dosen’t work with an adult character. Someone like say Ed from Ed, Edd N Eddy, or someone who belivies in weird conspiracy stuff like Dale Gribble or Stan Pines. with either of them this plot would’ve been fucking great. I could buy it from Dale and it just comes off as his normal paranoid weirdness. With Launchpad it comes off like he seriously needs help because the episode frames it as if he can’t tell ficton from reality, and his splotlight episode later would directly contridct this and make this episode even more aggrivating, as he’s a fan of Darkwing Duck, and KNOWS it’s acted out by an actor, so why wouldn’t he get this? It’s just....

It sucks, it sucks and I thankfully get to move on to a better subplot

Beakly and Lena: What You Are in the Dark

Beakly tells Lena she’ll never see Webby again after this.. then chastises her when she won’t help despite you know having just said she’s going to force their friendship apart, which Lena points out. She then gets mad at Lena making a sarcastic comment at her. Okay she’s lived with Louie for at least a week in airing order and a month or two in actual order. She has to be used to this by now. She’s insolent.. because you show her no respect, blame her for something that while sure she talked you into, you should’ve known better, and top it off by saying you want to keep her from the kids because they have bright futures and come from good familes and asks who rasied her and her face.. well.

Yeah wheras Launchpad and Huey, more on that in a second, were hurt by this being some of their earliest big roles, Bentina wasn’t.. until later when we found out just HOW bad Magica is to Lena and how much she dosen’t care about her other than as a tool to use. At this point we didn’t know just how much Lena was playing webby, how much she was only manipulating her, and even with her heroic act here we didn’t know if she only saw Webby as her way to break free. The next episode makes it clear she dosen’t and genuinely does care, 100%, so in hindsight it makes Bentina come off as ghoulsih for horribly asssuming about a girl she dosen’t know, and even if she did know about Magica wouldn’t know the full story, just like us, and then BERATING her after already saying she’s going to rip her away from Webby, which itself is PRETTY bad as she’s the only friend the girl has and sh’es doing so on... talking them into a horror movie, which as I outlined was more Bentina’s fault than Lena’s, and leading the kids into a dangerous place whicha gain, Lena pointed out is something she lets Scrooge do. And trust me i know that she actually knows Scrooge, and we later find out, as we’ll cover next month, that she isn’t ware HOW dangerous things are with Scrooge. It dosen’t change the fact she knows they do dangerous stuff to a point and that Lena may just be acting out. It also dosen’t change the fact she drove three children, yes including launchpad, down here with her instead of sending them home with Launchpad.. granted that option isn’t the safest but it’s safer than taking her with them thena cting like it’s ALL lena’s fault when three of the children, again including launchpad, are down there because of HER. Not Lena, HER. I’m harder on her because she’s older, wiser and was “raised properly” apparently. Though given the way she treats a random teen off the street she again knows nothing about and dind’t bother to ask... it begs the question.

IT’s a good question. I could see the classism coming from being raised in 40′s and 50′s britain, judging by the timeline.. but even then she’s seen the world, and while her nature is supscious, the classit bullshit makes no sense after presumibly working with, and later spymastering for, various agents of various backgrounds. How has she not dropped this in decades. Scrooge very clearly dropped the racisim and homophobia of his time, so it still stands on her for not dropping this. And Lena’s hurt shows under hte mask for the first time, that beneath the snark and secrecy.. is just an abused teenager with nowhere else to go and no way out being bullied by an older woman whose cutting off the only light at the end of the tunnel nto for good reason but out of classist, overprotective mallice. My issues, which to be fair probably were intentional in the episode but sitll are a bit overblown, aside we do get an absoluttley tremendous moment later as a car falls on top of Beakly.. and Magica, speaking once more urges Lena to leave her, let her die and let their plans progress. And while that iself is.. dumb, what if someone finds her or her corpse later, especially since Scrooge would likely perosnally want to retrive the body to give her a proper burial as she’s his only friend at this point, or the rest of the family questoin the story?, it fits Magica’s lack of foresight we see throughout the season. But Lena... saves her. While she later gives an explination, and a valid one at that, it’s clear from her expressoin, her actoins and how she does it... that this is her. Part of it is defiance, as she glares at Magica before doing it, her own stubborn nature mixed with her hatred of her “aunt”, meaning Magica just made it all too easy for her to do this. But the real reason is clear: It’s the right thing to do. While pissing off her aunt and getting away with it is the cherry on top.. the real reason is that unlike Magica.. Lena is not a killer, not a monster, and not a heartless vacum ofa person. Even if she doesn’t like Beakly, for good reason.. she can’t, she WON’T leave her to die and leave Webby an orphan again. She loves Webby too much to do that to her and while she may deny it.. she’s too good a person to leave someone to die for something so petty. Even if she never sees webby again and the plans ruined. It’s better than the weight of knowing she let someone who wasn’t trying to harm her and whose actions, while terrible, were out of misguided protection of her granddaughter, die like this. She saves her. And as we’ll see it pays off.. but before that.

Huey, Webby and Louie: Into the Unknown This plot’s a bit shorter, as Webby and Huey continue their argument, with Louie eventually making it clear, and not even hiding it when directly asked by Huey, that he’s playing both sides with a delighted expression on his face as the movie was boring but this, this is interesting. Which it is. But it’s interupted by dings on the roof and while Huey assumes i’ts just a regular rock, it moves while their not lookiung.. and soon red eyed, horrifying beasts look out at them and the kids flee back to the car. This dosen’t pan out as the car starts to shake and is clearly going to collapse.. and while Webby and Louie are prepared to flee, rock monsters or no, Huey, in an utterly heart shattering image.. stays in place, terrified of moving.

This is where this plot goes from mildly aggrivating, as Huey’s Skeptic shenanigans can get on the nerves.. to BRILLIANT. See at the time this was more annoying because it was assumed the skepticsim would be a part of Huey’s character and we’d get more episodes of him being annoying only to be proven wrong, as he semeingly dosen’t learn his lesson at this point, looging the terrafrimians in the guide book. But on rewatch.. this plot is amazing. For starters the plot subtly introduced the defening characteristic of Huey’s personality, one that’s become more prounounced in Season 3: His need for Order. He needs things to make sense: He solves stuff because he likes there to be order in the world and something he can understand, he can put in a box in his head. Like a lot of neurotypical people, myself included, he struggles horribly when the clearly defined boxes of his life and things he undestand have wrinkles or complexities he can’t get. I for instnace easily got it when I was introduced to the concept of trans people or being non binary.. they just make sense in hindsight: given how our brains are messya nd complicated it makes sense some people would be born in the wrong ones, and tht with all the science and medicine we have to correct that, should be allowed to transition if they so choose. It makes equal sense that some people just don’t have a gender or are gender fluid, being both or neither. Despite struggling with non binary prounouns due to force of habit.. I get the concept with no real difficulty. But when it comes to accepting I don’t have to apologize for everything and that everyone is not angry or that anger is natural and people sometimes get mad and you can’t and shouldnt’ fix it.. it’s something I STRUGGLE with even knowing it’s not right, because my brain is just wired that way.

That’s how Huey’s struggle comes off here.. he reveals he’s willing to stay and die.. because he’s SO scared of the unknown, that the idea of dying from something he at least knows what it is versus something he dosen’t.., so paralizyed by his own brain he can’t figure out the obvious.. it takes Webby reaching out to him figuratively and literally, to show him that sometimes you have to face the unknown. The unknown is fucking terrifying.. but it can be good and it’s better than sitting there, scared and unable to move. You have to try, to grow and take that risk that things may not go well to really LIVE.

So he does.. and they reunite with the rest of the group.. and soon find the terrafirmains.. who as it turns out once we get some light on them... are actually just goofy looking, brightly colored, each one matching one of the kids, kids themselves, and Huey reaches out and touches one, which by ET logic means their friends now, and the terrafirmians help them get out. And this lesson sticks. While sure Huey catalogues it and it seems it didn’t.. he’s never this skeptical again. This douchey skepticsim was only for one episode, his fear of the uknown replcaed with boundless curosity and from here on he’s CURIOUS about new stuff as long as it’s not trying to kill him. He loves taking in new experinces, maybe not to webby levels but he does actually try them and study them instead of just fearing them.

Before we wrap things up, obviously we need to talk about the JWG not having entries on a lot of stuff. This would be corrected next season as it returns to being a big book of everything, but dosen’t completely contridct this as Timephoon! shows there’s stillcgaps.. which i’m fine with. While it knowing EVERYTHING was fine for the original series here, with things being slightly more groudned, it’d just be an obvious plothole if Huey didn’t use it every single time they ran into something and that’d get boring. Instead it’s simply that it dosen’t know everything, and really in the comics at times it didn’t and the triplets found out new things. It knew almost everything mind you, but having some gaps for dramatic tnesion is fine with me and Seasons 2 and 3 decided on that instead of just having it being a scouting manual which wa sfor the best. And even by later in the season hit has guides to getting a small buisness loan, so they already course corrected.

So everything’s wrapped up and while Magica berates Lena for disobeying her.. Beakly interputps, thankfully not seeing magica and admits she was wrong and invites Lena for pancakes, even taking a crack about if their actually pancakes or english muffins with syrup, which sounds like my own living hell, in stride, having clearly grown. And Lena explains to Magica that this was the better approach: now she’s got the in theyw anted, and is above suspcison for now. Still not so much that an obvious act won’t be detected but enough that she dosen’t ahve to work actively around her anymore. Magica scoffs.. and while part of it is probably rage.. part of it is deep down both of them know she did it out of defiance.. and only Lena knows that she did it for the right reasons... she just dosen’t get why. She probably justifies it as playing the long game.. but deep down she knows something’s changing about her.. and she’s not sure if that’s a godo thing or not.

Final Thoughts: This episode is as you can tell a mixed bag. It’s 2/3 of a good episode, with the Lena plot, my issues aside, being excellent and the Terra-Firmian plot likewise fun, even if Huey can get grating the payoff is worth it, and the jokes are really high quality. It’s just bogged down by that fucking launchpad plot that just crushed my soul in it’s palms every time it came back. I went on at length why i hated that one but boy oh boy was the hate of that subplot warranted and I stand by calling it the worst plot of the series. It is: it’s not funny, it makes no goddamn sense, and it drags down what’s otherwise a pretty solid epsiode.

Next Time on Lena: Jaws the shark, lurking in the dark, in the depths of the bin one day of a lark decides to get rowdy, get real violent takes a vacay out to Duckburg er.. Island.. also Scrooge faces his greatest Nemesis.. a PR Tour to clean up his image after an unfortunate giant Beanstalk Incident. Be there and be hip to be square.

Next Time on This Blog: I Tackle a DCOM for the first time for another commissioned review as we take a look at racisim, specifically Apartheid and breaking indoctrination, with The Color of Friendship. See you next Rainbow.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #lena sabrewing #webby vanderquack #weblena #bentina beakly #launchpad mcquack #huey duck #louie duck #dewey duck #terror of the terra-firmians!#disney channel #disney xd #disney plus #disney #disney ducks #comissions

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queenofeden · 5 years ago

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I SAID IT WOULD GET DONE AND I DID IT

Day 27: Sex Pollen

Pairing: Julian Devorak/Female Apprentice

Word Count: 2180

Summary:

He’d thought that would be the end of it. He’d thought very, incredibly, extraordinarily wrong.

✨ My Ko-Fi // Read on AO3 ✨

Stupid, Ilya. Very, very stupid.

He looks at the mess of sparkling powder, now strewn across the floor of the shop, mixed with minute shards of broken glass. Bad enough, that. Already the fine dust had plumed up into his face, bent low in his attempts to stop the jar’s inevitable tumble. He’d then done what any responsible man who had dropped and broken something that did not belong to him would do, and hastily swept all of it up and dumped it into the bin, stirring up more particles like motes to dance and hover in the air. He’d apologize to Laurel later, he reasoned. Whatever its contents had been, surely they could be replaced. She was well enough acquainted with his clumsiness not to leave things of too much import laying out on counters where they could be swatted over by errant coat tails or overly enthusiastic, gesticulating hands. She’d give him a gentle ribbing, perhaps pout a little, but he could certainly kiss that sour look from her face given enough time.

He’d thought that would be the end of it.

He’d thought very, incredibly, extraordinarily wrong.

It had started almost like a fever, a sudden coming on of warmth, sweat prickling at his brow. Julian was no stranger to the feeling, but the speed with which it hit did set him a little off-kilter. Then, very much unlike a fever, he had started to feel the burn deep in his groin. His cock had hardened with inexplicable quickness, leaving him flushed and gasping, grinding the heel of his palm into his crotch to stem the feeling. His knees had buckled, nearly sending him careening towards the floor if he hadn’t caught himself on the edge of the dining table first. It took all of his power to shuffle himself towards the bed, his mind a swimming, dizzy fog of pure arousal.

He’d barely had the wherewithal to shuffle his pants down to his knees, relieving the pressure on his unnaturally straining, aching cock. It helped, until it didn’t. Already he was oozing precum, ruddy and twitching as if he’d been hard and wanting for hours instead of just mere minutes. Julian grits his teeth against the wracking pleasure, rolling under the surface of his skin like a static current. Reluctantly, he takes himself in hand, unsure if it’s the right move but unable to think of anything else beyond the blinding, all consuming feelings of Want! Need! Touch! He hisses, eyes near rolling back into his skull as he comes, dribbling over his fist from only that single, perfunctory touch.

In the wake of his orgasm he feels cool relief flood through him, clearing the haze from his mind. Panting, he wipes his hand off on the coverlet, careless of the mess. It had to be that powder, whatever it was. It had to be. Some kind of magical reagent, meant to do… Well, he couldn’t imagine this was its intended use but what did he know, really?

Laurel would know, once she returned home, Laurel would– the thought of Laurel is enough to spark the burn inside him again. He groans weakly, gripping the root of his cock, trying to think of anything but her for once, but nothing stops the rush, his cock swelling again, ruddy and glistening with his earlier spend. Magic, of course it was magic, just had to be magic. Why wouldn’t it be? Magic powder in a magic shop doing magic on his… He shakes his head, thumping it back against the mattress. A feeble whimper escapes from his throat as yet another wave of pleasure crashes over him, rolling in and out like the tide.

This time when his thoughts drift inevitable to Laurel, he does not stop them. Thinking of her, imagining the softness of her skin, the rose and sandalwood smell of her hair, strewn across his chest in waves and tangled curls. His chest shudders, grip tightening on his shaft. It isn’t so quick now, the second wave more forgiving. He strokes himself, palming over the head, smearing precum over his hand with a muffled cry, biting the inside of his cheek so harshly he tastes the bright, metallic flash of blood against his tongue. It makes him keen, bucking his hips upwards into the tight grip of his fist.

And then a click, the sound somehow muffled yet heightened, his ears straining for the next– yes! Thank the merciful heavens, yes! The click of the second lock, and then the third, the jangle of keys, the click of a heeled boot against the wooden floor of the downstairs. Julian opens his mouth to call her name, but only a quiet whimper escapes, tongue clicking weakly against the roof of his mouth.

The footsteps pause.

“Julian?” Her voice calls up the stairwell and Julian’s cock twitches with interest in spite of himself.

“Up –” his breath catches, panting as his hand flexes around himself. “Upstairs!”

Please, his heart screams out at the same time.

It feels like a lifetime passes and no time passes all at once. The pounding of her feet on the stairs, the swish-clack of the bead curtain as she slams it to the side, hands already blazing with a crackling energy that makes every hair on his forearms stand on end.

And then she stops, taking in the sight of him no doubt. He can’t bring himself to look at her face, honestly afraid that if he sees her face he may spill again, there and then. He hears her make a quiet noise of confusion, the light and spark of her magic dulling, then fading away entirely. He hears the thump of her bag drop from her shoulders, whatever groceries and supplies she’d purchased rolling haphazardly across the floor.

“Oh –” she breathes, and takes a step forward. Julian keeps his eyes fixed on the wall behind her until he can’t bear it anymore and closes his eyes with yet another bitten-off whine. He feels the edge of the bed dip under her weight. “Is this? Gods, Julian, you frightened me. I thought something had happened to you!”

“S-something, ohhh, something hap – something certainly did happen,” Julian tries to laugh, the sheer hysterical absurdity of it all setting over him, mixing with his already cloudy thoughts.

He feels her lean in like a weight across his body, even without her touch. Through the thin skin of his eyelids he sees the shadow of her hand reaching for his brow, and he jerks away, eyes flying open to see liquid blue eyes staring down at him, crinkled at the edges with concern.

“Don’t – don’t touch me,” he gasps.

Please touch me, his brain cries.

Ignoring him, she crawls closer to hover at his side. “You’re not making any sense, Julian. Why can’t I touch you?”

He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth. Every muscle in his body screams, every joint feels like jelly. “D-dropped something. Downstairs. I – I don’t… what it was?”

Laurel’s brow furrows, her head shaking slightly before stopping, her eyes widening with surprise – then alarm. “The vial on the counter?” she asks.

Julian nods. “Broke it, tried to clean but… Must’ve, ah, breathed too much in?” He barks a laugh, brain floating and utterly weightless in his skull. “Should have been wearing a mask, eh?”

“Oh, oh my poor darling –” Laurel whispers, and places her hand gently on his forehead. Was he burning up? Her hand feels ice cold against his brow, a soothing balm. He nearly sobs. What he would do for that touch everywhere, for her lovely, perfect hands to quench the fire clearly raging away inside him.

“Why? Why would something do this?” he grits out, because even tormented like he is he has to know, wants to know, needs to know.

Laurel laughs, incredulous and startled. “Well, it’s not supposed to do this.”

They both glance down at his straining erection at the same time, still held in his loose, distracted grasp. Ever the showman, his damned cock, under their combined attention, bobs and aches anew with such force it steals the breath from his lungs. He bites at his bottom lip, chuckling, shaking his head all at once.

“Laurel, fix it? Can you? Fix it?”

Laurel blinks. “Fix it?”

“Laurel –”

“I – there is no antidote, Julian! It’s – it’s an aphrodisiac, a highly concentrated one! You’re not meant to – it just… needs to run its course. I don’t know what you want me to do!”

He meets her eyes, pleading, unable to speak the words but hoping that the look on his face – flushed, eager, pathetic – speaks for him.

“Laurel,” he sighs, shifting against the mattress, the sheets sweat soaked beneath him. He reaches for her with the hand unoccupied by his desperate, leaking cock, and places it over her knee. She covers his hand with her own immediately, instinctively. Then a sense of realization seems to settle over her, eyes widening once again, cheeks and neck flushing prettily.

“Oh, oh I – you’re certain?”

“Please,” he says, this time aloud.

Laurel chews her own lip, eyes darkening as the black of her irises overtake the grey, the lightest blues.

“Yes, yeah, I – oh honey of course I can do that.“ She leans down, brushing his hair gently away from his face and kisses him, like some fairytale prince, meant to break the spell on him.

That isn’t how it works, much as he wishes it was, but the kiss is sweet – her mouth tasting familiar, faint like candied lemons. Her hair falls around him in a curtain as she deepens the kiss, tongue dipping between the seam of his lips. He opens for her eagerly, lips parting, tongue darting forward to meet her own. She moans, shivers, and he feels it travel through him all the way from their lips down to his cock, and once again he jerks and spills over his own hand.

Laurel breaks free of their kiss, looking wild-eyed. She glances back at his cock, then to his face again.

“Is that–?”

Julian grimaces, already feeling his sac swelling again, his cock – only gone half hard – once more rising to the occasion. “Didn’t help the first time,” he grunts, twitching in his own grasp.

“First time?” she asks, voice a low, hoarse whisper. He loves that voice, loves knowing that she only sounds like that for him, with him. “How many was that?”

“Only two, but – nngh –”

Laurel’s hand meets his thigh, creeping close to his swollen cock. Her fingertips trail through the pool of cooling spend on the crease of his thigh, and brings them to her lips. Julian chokes on a moan, wanton and desperate. Her smaller hand lays on top of his, fingers curling around the ones already curled around his cock and eases it away, replacing it entirely with her own.

“Once more, yeah? Just like this, I’ve got you now.”

Julian can only nod, the feel of her hand on his cock at last overwhelming and all-consuming. He had thought her touch would sate him, but it seems to only make him burn brighter, hotter. Perhaps instead of simply being smothered, he would flare, expand rapidly, and then collapse, like a dying star. That’s about how he felt, like the universe was shaking apart in and around him all at once.

She strokes him, using his own slick to ease her movements, thumb rolling over the head, under the glans with every upstroke. Julian cannot speak, he cannot see, his entire body, his soul, is concentrated into the apex of his hips where she pumps him. He cries out, voice breaking around her name as he comes for a third time in what could only be a half hour at most. It should be painful, but it isn’t. It is very nearly the most exquisite orgasm he has ever experienced, even if the thought makes him queasy.

Laurel shushes him through it, slowing her strokes until he has no more to spill, and then sits back, looking flush but satisfied.

“There, that should–”

Her voice trails off as once again, as every other time, Julian’s cock immediately begins to harden once more, his stomach twitching, his voice raising in a high pitched keen.

“Okay,” Laurel mutters, and begins to unbutton her blouse, pulling the hem free from her skirt. She eyes his cock with all the intensity of battle that he has ever seen in her. As though it were an adversary for whom she must calculate a plan of attack. She pulls her shirt up over her head, along with her breastband, leaving her topless in nothing but skirt and shoes. It should be comical, it would be comical, if she wasn’t the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on. Her dusky pink nipples harden in the sudden coolness of the bedroom and Julian’s mouth waters to take them into his mouth.

Laurel sighs, and looks sidelong at him, apologetic.

“I get this feeling that this is going to be a long night.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #julian x apprentice #arcanagame #my fic #kinktober2019

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savvwrites · 5 years ago

Text

That night had been rough. Part of her should have known. They’d caught her earlier in the morning having breakfast with the Gryffindors, proudly donning her charmed pair of red robes.

Certain professors turned a blind eye. Other didn’t. Her fellow Slytherins certainly did not. She ignored their glares and jabs all day, escaping down to Hagrid’s hut for lunch and eating with him there (if you could even call it eating. She tried to bit into a few rock cakes but gave up, mostly just grateful for the company and safety). She skipped dinner altogether, not worth a chance being caught by them again, and definitely not worth sitting with them.

She bid farewell to the few Gryffindor friends that walked her to the common room. They’d offered to try to sneak her into theirs again — but it wasn’t worth the months worth of detentions if they were caught again.

She was brave. She could walk into her own common room and be fine.

Pushing the heavy doors open, dread hit like a stone in her stomach. She’d hoped she waited long enough after dinner that it would be empty, but she wasn’t so lucky. The sneers began immediately. Desparetly, she glanced across the room... but no one. It seems the only people who stayed behind were the ones known to taunt her.

Figures.

“So the little poser decided to make her way back home?”

“Mudblood almost seems to kind for her now, the way she filthed up our house name.”

“She didn’t seem to remember the lesson from last time, eh, gents?”

She was brave. She tried to remind herself, closing her fists tightly and closing the door, standing at the entrance. She tilted her head down, and tried to walk past them, down to the girl’s dormitories (where really, would it be any better?)

“Where do you think you’re going? Don’t you have someone to answer to?”

Screeched the worst one. He held out his arm, stopping her in her path. Her fist closed tightly around her wand, hidden in the folds of her robes.

“Fuck off, Castellon.” She murmered.

She was expecting a spell, a hex, something like they usually do. When his hand landed firmly across her face, his large, ornate ring of his family’s leaving a stinging scrape behind the slap. She stopped, frozen in her tracks. A pair of firm fingers held her chin, forcing it upward to look into cold, unforgiving eyes.

“You will respect you elders, Mudblood.”

He let go with a force nearly knocking her to the ground. Stumbling back, her vision swam with tears. She didn’t think twice, tearing out of the common room and running into the hallway.

The closet wasn’t far. She’d charmed the door years ago to hid noise. It was her only solace, she couldn’t go running to the Gryffindors.

She was sure her heavy footsteps in the hallway would have given her away, or maybe the half sobs tearing out of her throat before she could stop them.

One floor.

The stairs were aligned as if waiting for her, leading directly to her little alcove. A basic 'alohomora’ swung the door open, and she folded into the small closet, closing the door carefully behind her.

Sobs echoed around the room, once again, grateful she read about that little sound muffling charm years before. Also, grateful she’d found Madam Pomfrey’s hidden stack of bed linens, and stashed them in the corner. After just a few short minutes of pulling herself together and pulling a small sleep station together, she laid down, sniffing and dabbing at her cheek.

Her fingers pulled away bloody, and she felt the pain of the scratch for the first time.

Whatever.

She turned, her back facing away from the door and pulled her hood up. She must have only been in there for ten minutes before she heard someone shuffle outside the door. Exhaling a held breath, she knew she was about to get caught.

The door creaked open, and light spilled into the small room.

Parchment. Ink. Old Leather. Books.

She knew immediately who it was. It only made her curl up tighter, glad her back was facing him.

“Are ya.. Going to spend the night in here? Or is this one of your shenanigans."

She cringed at the sound of his voice, echoing across the empty halls.

“Can’t you let me break the rules in peace for one night? Aren’t there other delinquents for you to catch?” Was her mumbled response.

Silence, for just a moment. Then, she heard a shuffle, footsteps, and the clear of the door being closed, the light diminishing once more. She could tell, however, he hadn’t left.

Worse. He stayed.

"None of the other delinquents are as fun." He said, softly. She heard him slide down, sitting next to pile of blankets. A gentle nudge to her shoulder. "So, ya going to start a broom house now or is something the matter?"

Swallowing, she sat up, sure to keep her cheek in the shadow of her hood. The last thing she needed was a prefect making her fun to her Head of House and explain what happened. It would only make things worse.

But he wasn’t just a prefect.

He was... a friend? The word felt weird - like there was more behind it. All unsaid, of course. No other wizard at this school had made her stomach flip like he did. And she realized, she didn’t want any other wizard (or person, frankly) to be in that closet with her, in that moment.

Embarrassingly, she’d almost started calling it their closet in her head.

Bringing her knees into her chest, she rested her head on them, mustering up the courage for what she was about to ask. “What’s you blood status?”

The words flew out of her mouth faster than she meant. She knew what it looked like, a Slytherin, asking another about blood status. She hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way - she couldn’t handle two rejections in one night.

“"Half. Ma was raised a witch, father was a muggleborn. Ya never actually answer questions straight, ya know."

She scoffed. She did know. She wouldn’t answer that either.

“Lucky bastard.” Mumbling, she picked a piece of lint off of the puddles of robes surrounding her, starting to feel sick looking at the particular shade of green that enrobed her. "And not in Slytherin. Lucky on both counts." She added, flicking another piece off of the Slytherin crest on her chest, wishing she could just rip it off.

Even in the dark, she could see his shrug.

"Maybe. Not everyone can play two houses, ya got me beat there."

A ghost. Just a ghost of a smile crossed her lips, before fading completely.

“Do you even know what house I’m actually in? What my blood status is?”

He paused. Brown eyes met his. She could practically see the gears turning in his head. Ravenclaws.

"Is it that bad?" His voice was almost a whisper, but sounded like a scream in their little broom closet.

“Have you ever even met a Muggleborn Slytherin before?”

Another pause. Another few rounds of heartbeats. She followed his gaze, to the cold, stone floor.

“I have now.”

Again, she felt the emotion building in the back of her throat. Her already shed tears from moments before threatening to come back.

"Yeah well,” She cleared her throat. “Not if I have anything to do with it. I've been trying to get my house switches for years.... Until then I come here when its gets — bad."

"Ya could've fooled me. I couldn't figure out which one ya were until ya told me."

There it was again, the ghost of a smile, maybe staying for a little bit longer.

“That’s the point. Charmed robes. Makes everything a bit easier.” She admitted, picking up her tie and flipped it over, showing the proud red and gold stripes of Gryffindor.

“Reckon we should start broom house?" He added, and she could see the same smile mirrored on his face.

“I like broom houses.”

#br(otp): the box is talking #chara: jo #writing #IM #CRYING #A H #tw: abuse

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demaury · 6 years ago

Photo

Some kind of mistake (cha. 4)

Ever since Eliott first came across the new resident of the apartment 320, he made peace with the fact that Lucas ‘Big Blue Eyes’ Lallemant would, one way or another, turn his life upside down. Thing is, he hadn’t expected that Lucas’ wife and Lucas’ daughter would play a part in it. Because, you know, he didn’t know they existed until it was too late. (ao3 link)

Eliott stared at the screen of his phone, like he had been doing far too many times ever since he fell into that damn rabbit hole that was Instagram.

Love of my life.

It was written, in all caps, and it made Eliott hate himself a little bit more each time. The picture in itself? He could live with it, even knowing she was the girl he had spotted with Lucas last Saturday. The caption? That could mean anything and everything all at once. But there were dozens of them. Videos of Lucas being a dork with her. Close-ups of their hands tangled — or their legs. Birthday declarations. Anniversary posts. And then-

Then came the little one.

Eliott had no idea what her name was. Lucas didn’t have much about her on his Instagram, but her mom’s account had a whole bunch of pics of him feeding her and holding her. For some reason, though, he kept coming back to this post in particular. The most recent one Lucas had posted, the day before the evening he had come to his place. It was the one that made Eliott resent this situation the most — all the while knowing he had no right whatsoever to be upset. If he had been building castles in the sky, it was his problem, not Lucas’. Not his girlfriend’, or wife’, or whatever. And certainly not his kid’s.

Still.

He should have listened to Idriss. He should have been sneaky and found that fucking Instagram account earlier. Everything would have been much simpler and he wouldn’t have been left feeling like shit for something that wasn’t his to feel.

He hadn’t seen Lucas, not even caught a glimpse of him ever since the moment he spotted the three outside the building, and frankly, it was best. There was nothing better than not stumbling every five minutes on your cute but very much taken new neighbor when you were trying to get over your stupid crush on him. Because, yeah, that was a stupid crush right there, no matter if he had started acknowledging it only when it had turned out to be impossible.

Maybe a part of him was relieved. Tiny. Secluded in a corner of his brain.

A huge part wanted the ground to swallow him every time he came across Manon though — because, eh, he knew her name now, not like he could still pretend he didn’t —, which happened on a daily basis.

He had just lit up a cigarette one morning, at the foot of the building, and was waiting for a client to pick up the phone when she had greeted him with a polite nod. He had replied with the same gesture, and just like that they had started existing in the same world. Once his reflex pushed him to hold her the door as she kept struggling with the stroller. Another time he had just hopped in the elevator, only to find an abandoned pacifier, attached to a string of wooden beads, lying on the floor. For some reason he crouched down and picked it up, but just before the doors closed themselves, Manon appeared outside and once again his reflex pushed him to block them.

“Oh, you found it, thank you so much,” she sighed, relieved. “I thought she had thrown it in the street.”

Eliott’s eyes traveled from the pacifier to her blue eyes, once, twice, then he nodded and handed it back to her. “You’re welcome.”

She smiled and waved him goodbye, before retreating towards her flat.

Ava Rose, he thought as he unlocked his front door, once he’d reached his floor. That was the name spelled on the wooden beads. Lucas. Manon. Ava.

He shook his head to himself while stepping into the quiet apartment. He had never minded living alone because he had literally fought for it — against his parents, against his friends, against himself. But right now he didn’t remember the appeal. He sighed, then stepped back, closed the door and locked it before shoving his keys into his pocket.

He needed to get laid.

The blinds of his bedroom suddenly snapped open with a hissing sound, and Eliott groaned, face burying into his pillow as the morning light flooded in. He didn’t know which day it was, but he wasn’t particularly keen on finding out. Neither about that, nor about the person who just decided that it was a good idea to make his eyeballs melt with his skull.

“Well, it’s been a while since I last saw you do that,” a voice muttered somewhere around the bed.

It took Eliott an extra-second to realize it was Sofiane, and that if Sofiane was here, it meant he had used the spare key. It pissed him off. They had a deal. Sofiane had the spare, but he had no right to make use of it. If anything it was just for one of the many occasions Eliott lost his own.

“Do what?”, Eliott gritted into his pillow, not caring if it was rude or if the words didn’t come out just right.

There was a sigh. “Sleeping around,” Sofiane answered bluntly. “Distancing yourself. Not answering my texts.” He paused, and Eliott could make up the crease of concern between his brows without having to look, then his friend added: “Eli, are you okay?”

Eliott huffed into his pillow, then rolled onto his back, squeezing his eyes shut. “I am,” he said, perhaps a bit more harshly. He opened his eyes carefully, then sat up, holding the sheets reasonably high on his waist. Sofiane was patiently waiting at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, like the good dad trying not to throw a tantrum. It made Eliott sigh, and he ran a hand through his wild hair. “Look, I know what you think, and you’re wrong, okay? I’m not- I’m not manic. It’s got nothing to do with me being bipolar. I’m just having a shitty time, and I’d rather spend it alone.”

Sofiane cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry for not having thought about that when I stumbled on the girl you just slept with crawling out of your apartment,” he deadpanned.

Eliott wanted to glare, but all he managed to do was to stare blankly at his friend. He didn’t have enough energy to be angry. Everything had been burned out this past week, when he had finally decided to make use of all the entries he had in a bunch of clubs around Paris, but never used because Sofiane and Idriss were a thousand times too boring to tag along nowadays. Of course, Daphné hadn’t been pleased when he had to call in sick, but he guessed it was mostly because the girl he was with had been cackling loudly at whatever she was looking on her Instagram feed.

“Just go away,” he mumbled, flopping back down onto the mattress.

“Eliott, I’m serious. What happened? Last week you were telling us about your new crush and now you’re burying yourself under the covers.” To be fair, Eliott did answer the question. Just with his mouth pressed onto his pillow, which, technically, may not have been the best idea to be understood. “I didn’t quite catch that,” Sofiane pointed out.

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Eliott snapped. “Or a wife even, for all I know. And a fucking kid.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Ah,” he repeated sarcastically, then he shrugged to himself. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m fine alone.”

I’m used to crushing on straight guys, he added inwardly. At least, his last functioning brain-cell was working in his favor to keep the filter up between his brain and his mouth. He didn’t want to have to explain Sofiane that he used to have a crush on him, back in high school — back when he was so desperate to find some balance, some control over his life, that even the tiniest, simplest gesture was enough for him to fall in love and mistake his gratefulness with stronger feelings. It went back to ten years and now Sofiane was just his close friend and nothing more. There was literally no point in bringing it up now, except if he really wanted to make a mess.

“Are you sure it’s true, though?” Eliott peeked out from his pillow, looking at Sofiane with a quizzical expression. “Are you sure it’s even his kid? I mean, plenty of people have roommates nowadays. You did live with Idriss at some point and you two were never a couple.”

“Look, Sof,” Eliott retorted, trying really hard not to hurt his friend’s feelings, “I’m not stupid enough to make assumptions based on nothing. His girlfriend’s all over his Instagram account with fucking love declarations. I hear the baby cry, I see her walking around with her stroller. I don’t know what kind of messed up world you live in but in mine these are proofs enough that I need to fucking back off and stop having shitty ideas.”

Sofiane heaved a sigh. “Alright. Alright, yeah, maybe. But just, don’t ignore me. Okay? I don’t mean to intrude or to upset you, I’d be just as worried if it were Idriss,” he concluded before leaving the room.

Eliott’s digital pen slipped onto the graphic tablet like any other goddamn pencil in the world onto a paper sheet when the wailings picked up again. He slapped his hands onto his temples with a furious hiss, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration as if he was six all over again and trying not to hear his parents fighting.

He was going to murder someone.

Or worse, he was going to lose his sanity.

The baby had been crying for three hours straight, then had relapsed for fifteen minutes, just enough for Eliott to think it was finally all good — and then had started all over again. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d have already gone out, if it wasn’t one in the fucking morning and if he had a few hours to lose in a club, where he’d hopefully get to enjoy the background noise. But since he had done practically nothing for the last few days, taking entirely too much time off to go out and about and party more nights than his body could possibly handle, what was bound to happen was finally just about to happen: he was in the deepest shit, with a shit-ton of shitty deadlines coming his way, and not enough hours to possibly get through all of it.

Below his flat, the baby was still crying; sometimes her wailings seemed to fade out, but he just assumed that her mom (or her dad) was simply walking around the apartment trying to ease her. Well, it didn’t work. It took ten more minutes for Eliott to snap, scrap his chair on the floor as he stood up from behind his desk, and strode out of his flat without even caring about walking in socks or locking the door behind him. He knew what he was about to do was petty, and mean, but he didn’t care. He simply needed to let out some of the pettiness he had bottled up since his last encounter with Lucas, two days ago.

Eliott was walking out the building, when he had stumbled on him, baby in one arm as he was fighting to fold up the stroller with his free hand. As soon as Lucas had caught sight of him, after simply uttering a ‘hi’ in response to Eliott’s polite greeting, he had immediately said, blue eyes sharp and tongue even sharper: “Now that I finally get to see you, could you, please tell your girl to stop screaming so loud? The building’s old and we got a baby, you know.”

And truth be told, Eliott had been so stunned, and so vexed, that all he had found to answer was “I will tell them.”

That was a far cry from all the sweet banter from last Friday.

If Lucas had been literally any other guy, any other guy with whom he had shared no more than a single evening, and no physical contact whatsoever, and that the guy had treated him the way he was doing right now, Eliott would have never even so much as thought about him ever again — except perhaps during one of those evenings where people casually recounted their worst moments in life around a glass of wine.

But unfortunately for him, Lucas was not any other guy, he was the guy who lived on the floor below. He had to hear about him, and so it was only fair that Lucas did too, Eliott thought bitterly as he knocked onto the front door of the apartment number 320. It didn’t take long for it to open, but still long enough for him to work himself up some more.

“Hey,” Lucas mumbled as he stood in the doorway, the baby’s wailings echoing louder from inside the flat. He was wearing pajama pants and a wrinkled, plain white tee-shirt, his hair sticking in literally every possible direction.

It didn’t go unnoticed that Lucas’ blue eyes were bloodshot and painfully red, but Eliott was too petty to let himself distracted by something like that. “Can you do something about it or I can definitely make peace with not getting one minute to work?” he snapped.

Lucas opened his mouth to answer but the baby’s cries suddenly intensified, making his shoulders slump a little more. “I’m sorry- I’m really sorry, she’s teething and Manon’s out of town and-”

He trailed off and Eliott found himself standing there like an asshole. Of fucking course. It was his luck, to decide to be petty just when no one could do a single fucking thing about the situation that bugged him. He should have thought about the teething thing, but it wasn’t like he was used to having babies around. Lucas watched behind his shoulder, looking more than a little defeated, and Eliott would have found it funny if he didn’t actually think Lucas was on the verge of crying too.

“I, uh, yeah. I-, you know what, nevermind,” he muttered, taking a step back from the threshold.

Lucas spun around when a particularly loud and slightly worrying screech echoed from wherever the baby was inside, and Eliott didn’t know why, he didn’t, because he wasn’t compulsively polite, but he followed Lucas regardless.

It was the stupidest thing he had ever done, but he was doing it anyway. It was like seeing a car-crash on slow-motion, he just couldn’t stop his feet from padding inside, and his hand from closing the front door. He was on auto-pilot, and he was already regretting it as he followed Lucas inside the living-room, where the baby was fussing in her baby-seat. Her face was red and crumpled from crying, and he could make up the streak of long-dried tears down her cheeks.

“C’mon Ava, please,” Lucas insisted quietly, rubbing her tummy as she kept kicking up in the air with her feet. His voice wavered and Eliott felt truly sorry for him, to the point of momentarily forgetting about being pissed.

Not just momentarily, in fact, he realized as a good minute stretched out with him standing there and Lucas looking completely helpless next to Ava. He reached out to touch her forehead, letting his fingers caress her red, chubby cheeks.

“They don’t give stuff to make it easier for them while they’re teething?” Eliott enquired, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats, and it seemed to startle Lucas.

He stared at him blankly, as if he had forgotten he was even there. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, “but it’s like, effective to a certain degree. She’s got tons of teething rings but they always stop helping after fifteen minutes. I don’t know why, they aren’t even warm when it just stops working!” Lucas’ frustration was so painfully apparent that Eliott winced to himself.

“Hey, calm down, it’s gonna be fine. She’ll just tire eventually,” he offered.

“I thought so too,” Lucas sighed, turning back to Ava after a moment, “six hours ago. She’s already had Ibuprofen, she doesn’t do well with those stupid chamomile drinks and she refuses to eat anything. She’s gonna be dehydrated before she even stops crying.” He sighed some more, and shook his head to himself as he leaned forward to pick Ava up from her baby-seat. “Guess we will just have to take another ring. Again.”

If Eliott saw that Lucas was shaking a little bit when he stood up he didn’t say a word. He caught the purple teething ring that Ava was waving angrily in the air before it fell to the ground, and made a point of not making a stupid face as saliva suddenly coated his fingers. Instead, he behaved like a grown man and followed Lucas in the kitchen to rinse his hands and the ring. In the meantime, Lucas had opened the freezer and was struggling to pull out another plastic toy without making the whole content of the freezer fall down on the ground or bump Ava’s head into anything in the process. Eliott took the freezing toy from Lucas’ hand and put the warm one for him to stock in the freezer, before the door closed and he handed the fake set of keys to Ava. The object seemed to stir some interest after a few moments of waving, and she eventually grabbed it and brought it to her mouth (not before she hit Lucas’ chest with it a handful of times though).

Lucas turned bleary eyes to Eliott, handing his hand out. “Can you give me-”

For some reason, Eliott immediately grabbed the kitchen towel left onto the kitchen elements, probably after recent use. Lucas mumbled a small ‘thanks’ and wiped Ava’s chin clean. “Let’s hope this one will last longer than fifteen minutes,” he whispered tiredly as he retreated towards the living-room, rocking her a little, Eliott following close behind.

Ava was gurgling pensively, the plastic keys faintly echoing as Lucas sat down with her. He glanced up with drawn-out eyes. “I’m so sorry, really,” he winced, “you should go back upstairs and enjoy some quietness as long as it lasts.”

Eliott waved, huffing a little. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He fidgeted a little then perched himself onto the armrest of the couch. “I mean, it’s true I work better at night but, like-”

“Yeah. You had your hands full. I know.”

Something in Lucas’ tone made him glance down at him, a little surprised, but then Lucas was already busying himself, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch without leading Ava to start fussing again. The baby was growing quieter, too busy she was munching on the keys, and Eliott hadn’t realized yet how much his head was starting to hurt. He couldn’t even imagine what Lucas was going through. Maybe that’s why he had snapped at him the other day — it would definitely explain the change of mood between them.

Yeah.

That was probably that.

Eliott shrugged. “It’s not like I’ll be able to do much if in fifteen minutes she starts crying again.”

Lucas looked down, embarrassed, his eyes looking hazy enough to make it believable if he started to cry right there and then. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I was just joking, Lucas,” Eliott quickly said, and he nudged him slightly in the shoulder, pulling a face. “Timing might be a bit lame though, sorry.”

Why are you doing this? Why?

It was stupid. But it felt natural. How could you just fight comfort?

Lucas groaned, sighing a little as he rested his head on the edge of the couch. “I’m too tired to smile, you’ll have to wait for another day.”

Eliott snorted quietly, then shifted to sit down onto the couch. “I’ll just wait to see if we get past fifteen minutes,” he explained as Lucas drew his eyes on him with a quizzical expression.

“Twelve,” he replied, somber. “Last time it was twelve.”

Ava paused, her mouth wide open as she stopped chewing on the keys, and she seemed to take a particular interest into Eliott, her blue eyes staring at him as if she was wondering all of a sudden what he was doing here. Yeah, I’m wondering too, he said to himself.

“Well, we will wait and see,” he said out loud. “You know, one minute after the other.” He glanced at Ava, who had started busying herself with the plastic toys. “It seems to work, though.”

“Don’t get too cocky just yet,” Lucas huffed, adjusting his position on the couch with a ‘humph’. “I love Manon and I love Ava, but if I get the chance of escaping this hell for a week I’d happily take it, just saying. I just need some silence.”

At this point, the words sank in without particularly cause Eliott to suffer. It wasn’t that deep. It was easier than this time in high school Sofiane had started dating a girl and was talking about her all the time. It stung a little bit, but it was how it was. Nothing more to say.

Really.

“Talk to me, I can’t fall asleep with her,” Lucas mumbled, reclining Ava into his arms.

Eliott quirked a brow. “Why don’t you put her back to sleep?”

Lucas took a deep breath. “I’m afraid that if I stand up she’ll start stressing out or something. And right now my head hurts so much I can’t take that risk. I need my twelve minutes of calm and silence.”

“We’re already two minutes in, sorry.” Eliott laughed quietly when Lucas turned desperate eyes on him. “Okay. So. Hum. What do you want to talk about then?”

“I don’t know. Literally anything. What are you working on?” he asked without tearing his eyes away from Ava.

Eliott didn’t know much about babies (nothing, really), but it almost looked like Ava’s eyelids were going heavy. “Designing flyers and promos cards for a club. It’s kind of what I do most. Marketing and stuff. And I get free drinks and free tickets sometimes.”

“Sounds cool. Cooler than my job.”

“What kind of accountant are you?” Eliott asked, cocking his head a little.

“I, uh, I work for an agency that sets up seminars for companies and stuff. Kind of an event planning thing, but the opposite of the party type,” Lucas explained, lowering his voice. “Manon works there as well.”

“Oh,” Eliott replied, then he adjusted his voice to match the level of Lucas’. “Did you, uh, did you guys meet there or something?”

“Nah, we met in high school. We weren’t talking much back then, we kind of were onto different sides of a large circle of friends, and then we lost track of each other.” Lucas looked briefly at him then sank a little further into the couch. “We only reconnected, or rather, well, you know, connected, because I was delivering lots of stuff to the agency when she was an intern. It kinda fell into place like that. We practically met on a daily basis because of that and then we hung out together outside of work and stuff. After a while- well, after a while she started suggesting I should pick up my studies, just to get a better job. So I did eventually, I went for a quick training course and she got me a job in the same agency.” He smiled, then added: “She’s the best.”

Eliott tried to swallow down the lump forming in his throat.

You don’t get to be upset.

You do not.

“I dropped out of art design school,” he said, almost whispering. It was the first thing that came to his mind as he was desperately trying to find another (safer) topic. Lucas glanced at him, looking interested, and Eliott rubbed the back of his neck, propping his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee. “I didn’t want to waste so much of my time learning things I didn’t care about or that I knew already. I was bored so I took a few commissions outside from school. It was easy and fun and I got paid for this so after a while I just figured I could do well enough without a degree. Kind of useless when you’re doing in the self-employment department.”

Lucas had a ‘makes sense’ raise of eyebrows. In his arms, Ava was still clutching at the set of plastic keys but her eyes were getting heavier, drool dribbling down her chin. Eliott leaned forward and grabbed an abandoned towel on the coffee table, then handed it to Lucas who gave him a tired smile in return.

“Have you been living here for long?”, he asked, wiping her face clean.

“Almost five years. At first it was a bit expansive, but I didn’t want to back down and go back to living with my friend Idriss. It was fun and all but once you’ve tasted being on your own…”

“I’ve never lived alone. Funny right?” Lucas twisted his mouth in a crooked smile. “Before, I was living with my three friends, those you met the day I moved in. It was fine and cheap, but after some time the flat got crowded. Basile and Yann were dating and their girlfriends were constantly home and it got a bit too much for me at times. So I moved in with Manon for a while and now we’ve moved here because the other place was way too expansive.” He remained silent for a moment, then shook his head a little. “I’ll end up in my forties, letting everything and everyone down and just go live in Bali, I’m telling ya. Running on some beach every morning and stuff.”

“Sounds nice,” Eliott chuckled. “I’m more of a snow person though.”

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. “I never said you’d be there,” he deadpanned.

“Ow, that hurts.”

They shared one more glance and laughed quietly.

“I suppose I could make an effort and make a trip or two in Alaska every once in a while,” Lucas whispered casually after a minute or two. “You know, just to get away from all that vitamin D.”

Eliott smirked. “Yeah. Sure. The vitamin D.”

There was a silence as they stared at each other. It was a shame to see such beautiful eyes ruined by sleepless nights, Eliott couldn’t prevent himself from thinking. Now he was starting to understand what his mom meant when he wasn’t sleeping enough during his teenage years, and she always ended up complaining that it transformed his whole face. He had always brushed it away because that came from his mom, but maybe he was starting to get the point.

“Has it been twelve minutes already?”, Lucas asked.

“Nope. Why, I thought you needed your twelve minutes of silence?” Eliott teased softly, shifting a little on the couch to rest his elbow onto the backrest. “Don’t tell me you want them over already.”

“No, I just want to get a sign that she finally got tired enough to sleep for good.”

“What if she wakes up after thirteen minutes?”, Eliott didn’t resist to ask.

Lucas glared at him, but it was more endearing than strictly menacing, with the bags under his eyes and his messy hair. “I’ll hit you thirteen times if what you brought up brings bad luck.”

Eliott snorted, resting his head on his folded arm. “Alright then. Let’s wait and see.”

#skam france #elu fic #mine #*skm #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #*

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cookinguptales · 7 years ago

Note

Cat

I got “icy” and I got “cat”, so I tried to combine them.

Cats, witches, and somewhat-merited paranoia below the cut. Oh, and f/f.

In life, there are very few things more disorienting than something moving that ought not. Naomi thought about that as her hand froze, poised above her laundry basket, as the contents within shifted.

Laundry was not supposed to shift.

Her heart immediately beat up into her throat. It could be a rat. Or a cluster of roaches. Or some kind of alien being, slimy and nasty with far too many or too few legs that for some reason nested only in pink-flowered laundry baskets.

Or, she realized as the tiniest mew in the entire world emanated from her wadded up clothing, it could be a cat.

Carefully, carefully she lifted up a pair of tatty old boxer shorts so she could see what was currently burrowing into her clothing. Cats were generally both terrestrial and corporeal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be nasty.

Staring up at her, though, was a little slice of heaven. He was a tousled little thing, with ginger fur sticking out at all angles and the biggest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen in her life. He stared up at her with those huge eyes, those absolute heartbreaker eyes, and mewed again. Pitifully.

Help me, that mew said. I have never been fed before in my entire life. Only you can save me from this agonizing, foodless situation.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. She needed to put food in this cat immediately. She could feel the very sanctity of her soul on the line. Those eyes were boring into her like laser beams of cuteness, and her free will had withered on contact.

Twenty minutes and several google searches later, she’d scrounged up some food from her fridge for her new friend. He had no collar, she noted as he ate. Might be chipped, though. She’d probably have to take him to the vet after the storm to find out. She’d pencil it in once the roads were cleared.

It had been snowing off and on for days, which is, she assumed, why he’d crept into her house in the first place. Who knew how he’d gotten in? Cats were sneaky like that. She was just glad he’d managed it. There was no way a cat this tiny would have managed very long out there in the snow.

“So what’s your name?” she asked, nudging at him on the counter as he ate.

He ignored her with aplomb, but, well, she supposed cats were assholes like that, too.

“How about… um… Snuggle?” she asked, thinking of the fabric softener she’d left abandoned on her washing machine as soon as she’d seen his fuzzy orange head. “No, too cutesy. Hmm…”

She cast her eyes around the kitchen, wishing she had a bit more imagination to her name. “Umm… Ginger? Nutmeg? Turmeric? Shit, now I’m just reading off my spice rack.” That had been gathering dust, no matter how many pointed looks her parents had given her in the years since they’d gifted it to her.

She leaned onto the counter and cocked her hip to the side as she thought. “What are your feelings on–”

Whatever the cat’s feelings on “Pumpkin” would have been, her finding out was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

Naomi blinked. The doorbell. In the middle of a snowstorm. Well, that wasn’t worrying at all. It could be – it could be a serial killer. Or just a normal killer! Either way, no one would even find her for days, probably, and by then she’d just be a human popsicle.

What a way to go.

Naomi’s ponderings on how stiff she’d freeze, and maybe whether the cat might like “Creamsicle”, were interrupted by the doorbell ringing once more. This time it sounded a little insistent.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered as she walked up to the door. It could be a yeti. Or the ghost of some poor soul who’d died back in the storm and didn’t have the sense to realize it yet. Or hell, maybe even a ghost yeti. From Mars.

Really, it could be anything.

Including, she realized as she opened the door, the neighborhood witch. She was standing there, pretty as you please, in a puddle of melted snow that seemed to follow her footsteps. Could witches do that? Melt snow? Probably. They probably could. Naomi didn’t usually make it a practice to talk to witches, not even when the neighborhood association put notices in her mailbox about neighborhood potlucks that you really should come to this time, Naomi, it’s not good to stay shut up in that big house of yours all the time.

Naomi swallowed hard and tried not to shrink back from the opening. “Can I help you?” she asked, and her voice was just over a squeak.

The witch brushed violet hair out of green eyes, and Naomi was forced to admit that she really was very pretty. For a witch. Who did witchy things. Which may or may not have been very scary indeed. “I’m looking for a cat,” she said, and hell, she had a really pretty voice, too, which–

Wait, a cat?

Naomi cringed, and she hoped she didn’t look too guilty. “Tiny, orange, impossibly cute eyes?” she asked.

The witch instantly brightened. “That’s her! That’s Blueberry!”

Naomi blinked. Her? Blueberry? “But she’s orange!” she blurted, then felt her cheeks immediately start to heat.

“And she always steals my damn blueberries,” the witch said with a little shrug. “Is she inside?”

“Oh!” Naomi said, feeling her cheeks go even hotter. Hell, maybe she could melt snow herself now. “Of course. Please, come inside.”

Then her eyes widened. Hell. Hell. Hell. Her mouth had just said that on autopilot, a politeness that was apparently settled deep into her bones, far deeper than the will to survive.

The witch just beamed at her, though, and oh, oh, Naomi’s heart didn’t like it much when she did that, so what could she do but step back and let her inside?

“This is a nice place,” the witch mused as she stepped into the foyer. She sounded… almost surprised. Which made Naomi’s brows knit up in mild offense.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding offended. Wait. That was definitely odd.

The witch laughed then, and it was less like the bonging of a scary old cauldron and more like the peal of bells. “I’m sorry, really. It’s just, no one ever sees you, y’know? That Naomi out on the corner, what a mystery she is!” she said, and Naomi had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at her perfect imitation of the head of the association. “I was half expecting a dungeon or something.”

“What, like with chains and skeletons and stuff?” Naomi asked, unable to stop herself. Ha. Like she’d ever let something as scary as skeletons into her house. Well. Maybe chicken skeletons. Blueberry had eaten a lot of the roast chicken she’d had in her fridge, and now there wasn’t much more than bones.

“Mmm,” the witch said, and there was a playful lilt to her hum that had Naomi simultaneously sure that she didn’t know what she meant, and sure she liked it. “Chains and something.”

Naomi’s cheeks, she thought, had to have looked like the storms of Jupiter by this point. “N-no,” she said. “Nothing like that.”

Like she could ever be so bold. She tilted her head down and tried to regain her bearings. “Um, I’m sorry. I don’t actually… Know…”

“My name?” the witch asked. She didn’t seem particularly offended, though, just gave her another bright little smile that warmed Naomi down to her toes. “Sofiya. Nice to meet you.” Then she raised her eyebrows in a not-unkind way. “I’ve been your next-door neighbor for two years.”

“Oh.” Naomi swallowed. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Uh. Get out much.”

“Mm, yeah,” Sofiya said. “I noticed.”

“Let me–” Naomi stumbled over her words a little, not sure quite how to speak to this woman who seemed dangerous now for a number of reasons. “Um, your cat’s in the kitchen?”

“Fantastic,” Sofiya replied, and then she was swanning into the kitchen like she owned the place. God, did all witches move like that? It rested right on the knife’s blade between entrancing and annoying.

By the time Naomi had caught up to her, Sofiya was already standing at the kitchen island scooping her cat up into her arms. “Blueberry, you naughty girl! I keep telling you to stay in the house when I’m airing things out!”

After what? Naomi wondered. Some spell gone wrong? Or right? “Well, it’s not like pets usually stay where they’re ordered…” she hazarded.

Sofiya blinked at her. “Oh no, Blueberry isn’t my pet. She’s my familiar. She understands everything I say,” she said, scratching the cat under the chin. “She’s just an asshole.”

She said it brightly, like she wasn’t cursing at her, uh, familiar, and Naomi wasn’t quite sure what to say, even though she’d certainly thought the same thing herself earlier. It wasn’t as if Blueberry seemed to mind; she was just gnawing on Sofiya’s fingers now with single-minded determination.

“Did you feed her?”

“Eh?” Naomi had zoned out again thinking about the way that Sofiya didn’t seem to mind having her fingers nibbled upon, not really.

“Did you feed her?” Sofiya repeated.

“Uh, yeah. Just some chicken and rice, though,” Naomi said. “The internet said that was pretty good for cats, so…”

“Oh dear,” Sofiya said. “That is a worry.” Her tone of voice didn’t sound worried at all.

That still wasn’t a very comforting thing to hear from a witch, though. “Oh dear?” Naomi echoed.

Sofiya nodded, holding Blueberry close. “She’s going to be pestering you at all hours now,” she said. “She really is a naughty cat.” She paused. “Who can teleport.”

“Who can – who can what?” Naomi asked.

“Well, she is a witch’s familiar,” Sofiya said, like that explained everything. Hell, maybe it did. “Aren’t you? Yes, you are, you little scrounger.”

Naomi swallowed. “So she… She’s just going to keep showing up in my kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Sofiya said, then sighed. It sounded a little wistful. “Your kitchen is a lot nicer than mine. She probably thinks that means it’s got better food.”

“She’d be wrong there,” Naomi mumbled. She kept herself fed, but not necessarily well.

Sofiya ran her fingers along Naomi’s countertop. “Yeah, Blue’ll probably just keep breaking in, which means I’ll probably just have to keep coming by to collect her.” She hummed a low note in the back of her throat. “I should probably bake you a pie or something.”

She looked very pointedly at Naomi’s gleaming silver oven.

“I’m sorry,” Naomi said. “Are you asking me if you can bake an apology pie in my kitchen?”

Sofiya waggled her eyebrows meaningfully. “I’ll clean up when I’m done. And I promise I’ll make it good for you,” she said.

Naomi, at this point, very nearly swallowed her tongue. A witch was flirting with her. A very – a very non-traditional, non-terrestrial, possibly non-corporeal witch was standing right there, leaning against Naomi’s marble counters and flirting with her.

“Okay,” Naomi said, and what?

Was it a charm? A spell? Dark magic? Her own utter stupidity?

And Sofiya, damn her, was just grinning at her again and making her heart go bumpity-bump against the sound of the embarrassed shrieking ringing between her ears. “Good! Be back in a tic! Just let me drop off the Blueberry and pick up the blueberries and I’ll bake you an apology pie you’ll never forget!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Naomi murmured as Sofiya walked right out to the door. She had not, Naomi belatedly realized, even brought a coat.

Witches.

Naomi trailed after her as she went, knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest easy until she locked her door herself, and she caught the faint sound of Sofiya’s voice echoing down the driveway.

“…and what have I told you about matchmaking, you nosy thing? I don’t care if she smelled nice and had chicken in her refrigerator. Or if she is admittedly very cute. I keep you around for finding charms, not love potions!”

Naomi softly shut the door and locked each of the locks, one, two, three. The world, she knew, could be a scary place. And the way her heart was hammering in her chest right now scared her, too. But it was also a little… exciting? Yes, exciting in a way. Her breath skipped and her cheeks burned and she hummed a little to herself even as she went to preheat the oven.

ko-fi

#origific #writing stuff #I just wanted to write something short and cute #naomi is fine really she just has a nervous disposition

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runesandfaes · 7 years ago

Text

Spell-Cleaver’s Grove

Content: Elucien first date fic. Very fluffy and magical.

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 3,750 words

Link on Ao3

I have been dying to write something Elucien because I love my babies so, so much but couldn’t come up with a prompt till finally, I could. I feel like I could have done better, but I absolutely love the setting and this fic and my heart is very full right now. Also if you enjoy it, please don’t forget to like, reblog and leave a comment, thank you so much c: A special shout-out to Luiza ( @cassiancalore ) for pitching me ideas for the crap the Inner Circle puts Lucien through. Love you babe <3 -CONTAINS ACOWAR SPOILERS REGARDING LUCIEN-

Today, Elain walked in on tears streaming down Lucien’s uncharacteristically blotchy, red face. The Inner Circle were all already at Rita’s, given she arrived a little late and could now see Mor, Cassian and Feyre breathless with laughter and noticed Azriel and Rhys in a corner with their hands clamped over their mouths. Nesta and Amren both had smirks on their faces as they watched her mate with amusement. Lucien however, was downing glass after glass of milk and wiping at his face indignantly to rub away the sweat beading across his forehead and upper lip, cursing with absolutely no filter at his companions; well, as much as he could between the drinking and swollen mouth and tongue.

“Seems like you don’t have fire running through your veins after all, Fox Boy” said Rhys with a sly grin.

Lucien on the contrary, fixed him with a hard glare and said, “Don’t tempt me to prove you wrong.” The sentiment didn’t sound quiet as threatening as he’d like it to be considering his current state. Rhys just chuckled.

“What’s going on?” asked Elain. Suddenly, everyone seemed to notice she had walked in-none more aware of her presence than the auburn-haired Fae. The moment he became alert of her appearance was the moment he went completely still and wide-eyed; an absolutely mortified look on his face.

“There’s the lady of the night” Feyre smiled at her as she came to embrace her. Elain returned it quite distractedly, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as she asked them again what was happening.

“Well, our little Lord here was trying to prove his undying devotion and worthiness of you by trying to down an entire bowl of Rita’s spiciest food available-to, you know, confirm he indeed had fire running through his veins; just as you asked us to let him know, earlier.” Cassian winked as he responded.

“I’m not your ‘Little Lord’” Lucien said through gritted teeth as he looked down, the redness off his face now slightly giving away to his natural, tanned skin again.

“I—what?” Elain, got out, completely baffled. “I never asked you to-OH, NOT AGAIN YOU GUYS.”

This had been going on for weeks now. Ever since Lucien decided that he’d wanted to take her out on a date and formally court her after they finally got to talking one day, and she thought it would be fun to make him wait around and work for it a bit, the Inner Circle made it their personal mission to make Lucien do the most ridiculous things possible and make a fool of himself. They decided to tell him things they assumed Elain would adore and Lucien, even though unsure and skeptical, gave those a go JUST IN CASE she was into them. She wasn’t and the entire situation was comical but she did in her heart feel a little bad for him.

Last week, Feyre let him know that Elain had a complete weakness for well-sculpted, oiled up, thighs and thought it would be sexy if he dressed in a panel of clothing, similar to the one Feyre wore Under the Mountain, which would put his assets entirely on display. And he did exactly that, showing up in front of her in a black, silk article of clothing covering his behind and manhood and splitting to reveal most of his muscled chest and torso, held in place by a loose weapons belt. She’d never seen him look this embarrassed and the sight of him immediately made her blush intensely-though she had to admit, he did have impressive thighs-amongst other things.

Lucien, to his credit, immediately started apologizing to her as soon as he noticed how uncomfortable it made her and made a point to cover himself up and didn’t stop till Elain assured him that he was forgiven.

This was just one of many of those incidents and tonight again, they decided to bait him. When Lucien realized Elain didn’t ask this of him yet again, he just gaped at them, frustration starting to rise to the surface of his face. She genuinely felt bad for him by now and was finally ready to give him the chance to court her, so she warmed up to him finally. She placed a hand on her waist and with the other, she rubbed her forehead, exasperated. They were all a bunch of children, no matter how many centuries old they might be, she thought shaking her head.

“All right you all, you tortured him enough. No, Lucien, I didn’t ask them to let you know to do any of the things they keep making you do” she glared at them as she spoke and finally, at her mate “but I appreciate the effort you put in each time. So, I think it’s time you gain a little something from them.” She lowered her hand from her forehead and smiled up at him. Something inside her melted as she saw the glimmer of hope ignite behind his russet eye and his metal one started whirring and saw his entire face lighten up; the ordeal from a few minutes ago complete vanished from his mind. Elain approached him shyly, never breaking her gaze from his and Lucien too, stood up and proceeded to meet her halfway. When they were just mere inches apart, Lucien took her hand in his and held it gently. “Would you do me the honor of gracing me with your company for an evening, my fair lady?” he asked Elain with a lopsided smile, charming as ever.

Elain gave a light laugh and agreed to it. At her confirmation, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a feather-like kiss at the back of it. She immediately averted her eyes and a faint smudge of color tainted her cheeks at the courteous gesture.

She heard the Inner Circle complaining about having to stop messing with Lucien now but could see in their faces that they were all somewhat glad for the pair-except Nesta, who looked pretty indifferent. Mor just shrugged and said “Eh, it worked, didn’t it? You finally convinced her to go on a date with you.” she grinned at Lucien who just grumbled. “I say we were successful”. With that, the group dispersed for the night, going their own ways, leaving Elain and Lucien behind. They walked back to the townhouse together in comfortable silence. Just before they were about to go to their own respective bedchambers however, Lucien stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

“We’ll leave after breakfast tomorrow. It might be a long day. Is that okay?” he asked her earnestly.

“What are we doing?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll see” he grinned.

“But...no hints? What should I wear?” Honestly, he now had her interest piqued and she itched to know where he was taking her, but knew he wouldn’t crack. So she tried to grasp a hint from the attire she’d be donning on.

“Whatever you wish to wear, Elain.” She was still getting used the way it made her feel whenever she heard him say her name-the lilt of his tongue, the depth of his voice and the way it made her yearn to keep hearing it.

She nodded.

He smiled at her softly again and they wished each other goodnight. Elain wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she was squirming with excitement about tomorrow and she realized she was looking forward to spending the day with her mate; however that might be.

The morning breeze carried in the sweet smell of roses and the various other flowers Elain had planted in her little garden on her terrace, and cocooned her as she woke from her slumber. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings straight and when she realized what day it was, she sprung up and out of her bed to clean up, take a bath and look her best. It still felt foreign to her, the butterflies that formed in her stomach at the thought of her date with Lucien. She still didn’t know where they were going but she decided to dress a little bolder today-from her armoire, she picked out a dress she had been aching to wear for weeks. Not too scandalous, but still far from the modest attires she was used to wearing. It was an off-the shoulder white gown, printed on with colorful floral designs, that spilled around her graciously on to the floor. The bodice and waistline were snugly fitted around her body, outlining her slim waist and displaying her bare shoulders, collarbones and a hint of cleavage.

Outfits like this were a little new to her, but ever since she started getting used to her transformation, she decided to try new things on as well-and when she was out roaming the town with Mor and Feyre one day, she saw this simple, yet elegant dress on display and it just called to her. Without any hesitation, she bought it and ever since then, it stood in her closet, unworn and untouched. She never quiet found the right occasion to wear it-until today of course.

With some help from Nuala and Cerridwen, Azriel’s shadow-wraiths and spies, who had gotten very dear to Elain in the recent months, she arranged her hair golden-brown hair to remain unbound over her shoulder in some loose waves, shaping her face beautifully. She applied a hint of rouge on her lips and cheeks for some color and set off to the dining room to greet the rest of her family.

Lucien was waiting in the dining hall table with the rest of the Inner Circle, seemingly keeping a calm demeanor but was extremely fidgety on the inside with his nerves on high alert. He had prepared a picnic basket for him and Elain to have lunch with help from Feyre, who helped him pack his mate’s favorite delicacies. He had never been one for anxiousness and was almost always confident while courting a lady, but this time was different. This was his mate and their relationship, whatever of it there was, was still very delicate; he didn’t want to mess it up before anything even began. He had planned this day out ever since he discovered his true lineage-as the sole heir to the Day Court. The moment he entered where he intended to take her today during his travels, he was mesmerized-his first thought was of Elain and how much she would adore this, from what he knew about her. So, it wasn’t too hard to decide how he wanted to spend the day with her.

The male was rummaging through him stream of thoughts when her scent hit him and his heart stopped as he looked up. She was gorgeous with her floral white gown, intricately detailed with bursts of color- a stark contrast against her pale skin. Loose strands of her hair framed her lovely, delicate face which held a hint of blush. He honestly tried not to, but his eyes nonetheless dipped below her face descending down the column of her neck to her exposed shoulders and the curves of her breasts, making Lucien’s breath hitch as he forced himself to drag his eyes up to meet her own brown ones, which he found to some satisfaction, following his every move.

Before Lucien could speak up, her sisters broke the silence by proceedin to wish her a good morning and then fawning over her outfit, Mor joining in with them soon enough.

“Good morning, Elain” Lucien finally said as a way of greeting, smiling up at her from his seat. She returned the gesture and grabbed the seat opposite his and started on her breakfast.

After one good hour, they were finally set to go. As a goodbye, Feyre told Lucien to not give her much trouble and then proceeded to wink at him and winnow away to Cauldron knows where. He was waiting for Elain on the doorstep of the townhouse when she made her appearance.

“Shall we?” Lucien asked his mate as he offered her his arm. Nodding, she placed her hand on the crook of his elbow and he told her to hold steady as he winnowed them away.

Elain wasn’t really sure where she was but she knew for certain it wasn’t the Night Court. The entire feel of this place was different from what she was used to and was eager to know where she stood.

“Where are we?” She asked Lucien. “The Spell-Cleaver’s Grove of the Day Court. I discovered this place after I had just found out Helion was my father and I finally started accepting the fact, figuring I might as well embrace it. So I decided to roam around a bit when I stumbled upon this place and fell in love with it instantly” he rambled on wistfully, which Elain found a little adorable. “I hope you’ll find this place to your liking and find it in your heart to return the sentiment”. He looked down at her and smiled a little nervously.

The place WAS lovely, Elain had to admit. Under the canopy of tall, majestic trees, a path was laden out for them, completely covered in a blanket of wildflowers so vibrant in its diversity in colors that it sung to her senses. She was enthralled by their beauty and kept on walking forward, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She was mesmerized by the tantalizing smell of the flowers and shrubs, of the eerie calm and the rays of afternoon sunshine darting their way through the gaps within the trees. She had never seen anything like this before. As they walked, they chatted a little and Lucien told her of the various plants and blossoms that bloomed here and across Prythian, having her completely hooked in his words and craving more. He told her of his own love for the wilderness as she noticed his face come alive with light, looking exactly like the Prince he was at this court.

He asked Elain about her own life, her hobbies and where her love for gardening stemmed from. And somehow, for Cauldron knows what reason, this grove made her come alive too and she told Lucien of her life and of her passions and what she aspired to come out of it. Lucien listened with complete dedication and it was a pleasant conversation filled with light laughter and stolen glances. The topic about his last few weeks’ ordeal was also brought up, of the hilarious antics the Court of Dreams put him through. Lucien’s ears and neck were a rich shade of crimson with embarrassment and Elain was breathless from chuckling too much, reassuring him eventually that it was perfectly fine, though he looked utterly ravishing in the black dress. Lucien thanked her sarcastically, saying if she did indeed find it so beguiling, he should give his wardrobe a change. He earned a smack on his arm in response and just laughed a deep, throaty laugh that reverberated deep through her bones.

In the distance, she could now make out the end of this long path and could notice the trees giving way to an open platform-like place. Her newly attuned Fae hearing could now pick up sweet, melodious tunes floating to their direction, drawing her in. She had never heard music like this before and it made her want to close her eyes, throw her head back and sway on her feet. This grove was absolutely enchanting; a thing of fairy tales and dreams. And her mate had just made it real for her.

“Songbirds” he whispered in her ear, his breath brushing against her neck, making her shiver. They had reached the end of their path and she could now see that the platform-like place she observed from far away was surrounded in a circle by large rune-stones.

“Would you like to dance?” Lucien had moved from beside her and into the hollow place between the stones and was offering her his hand with a grin on his face-his previous nervousness dialed down to more genuine glee.

Without any hesitation, Elain look his hand and let him guide her forward. As soon he place his hand on her small of her back and pulled her close, his scent hit her and she almost lost control. He smelled of the forest and wild things and it was absolutely bewitching, stirring something deep within her. Taking the lead, he twirled them around in sync to the music from the songbirds, enveloping them as the tune grew more and more intense. She suddenly saw her surroundings brightening up and realized it was the rune-stones, glowing brighter with every step of theirs. She caught Lucien’s eye and saw his pupil widen with surprise, the metal one whirring again- but as soon as he caught her gaze, he quickly masked his features back to delight. She didn’t know how, but she somehow just FELT her mate’s magic coursing through him and suddenly erupting around them, manipulating the light and the rays-making them bend and dance to the music of his own magic; Elain realized she had never seen anything quite so unique and captivating. The beauty of his play on lights had her in thrall and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from it. She could feel Lucien watching her the entire time, that hint of nervousness back in his gait-as if seeking confirmation to see if she enjoyed them as he waltzed them around one last time, dipping and whirling her to her utter joy that a delighted laugh escaped her mouth.

Lucien finally brought her back up and they gazed at each other, both panting from lost breath, but absolutely ecstatic. Elain had tears shining in her eyes from everything she just experienced and was at a loss for words to let him know what all this meant to her. That he conjured up something so foreign, something of her dreams and made it so real. So she stood up on her tiptoes, placed her arms around his neck and pulled him down to place a firm yet soft kiss on his cheek, projecting her gratitude and affection in it. His arms around her waist seemed to stiffen initially due to his surprise at her gesture but then he pulled her close, his eyes crinkling shut and his lips forming a slight, boyish smile.

When the stones had started shining in the grove during their dance, it did indeed take Lucien by surprise. He had heard tales of this- of those rune-stones becoming luminous whenever a couple who were truly destined, whose souls and hearts were one, danced among them but he never believe it, not really. Not till he saw it with his own eyes and his heart had skipped a beat. They were glowing for him-for him and his mate, letting him know they weren’t just selected for breeding powerful children but that their hearts beat as one; that they’d be able to love each other with no end. By the end of the evening, he had no doubt they could, for this woman, his mate, was headstrong and genuine and lovely. Her hidden strength that not many acknowledged, her humor, her passion, her utter positivity was staggering and he felt honored to even get to spend this day with her. It had been a long, long time since he felt this at peace and he was not going to question it. Not that he was going to tell Elain about the stones and their legend either; no, he’d let her choose, let her make her choice. Let her decide if she wanted to love him and give him the honor of sharing her heart because she deserved everything and more. And perhaps if she someday did, he’d tell her.

A better part of that afternoon was then spent in that grove with them having lunch and laughing and talking some more. At one point, some pixies and forest nymphs appeared and left flower crowns for them both which Lucien put on their heads with much enthusiasm. The male looked regal in it and she promised herself she’d weave one for him from her gardens one day. He did take her out to explore the Day Court a bit, which was extravagant in its own way and she loved it. They got some ice cream from a cafe on the town and Elain decided that one could never have enough of it. Lucien did finally winnow them back to Velaris by dusk and was content with dropping her home but she wasn’t. She wanted more-she wanted more of this male’s company and warmth and stories. So she asked him to stay and he complied happily. They grabbed some dinner from Rita’s and took a walk by the bank of the Sidra, finding a quiet, secluded spot under the stars. It was getting a little chilly and Lucien wrapped her in his jacket, carrying Elain’s thoughts back to the first time he ever did that. Shadows suddenly appeared in her eyes at the memory and Lucien was quick to take notice. He lay down a blanket on the ground for them to sit on and Elain finally opened up to him about her struggles and the hard days. She had Lucien reciprocate the gesture by sharing his own hardships with his family, with Tamlin and Under the Mountain. He told her of his scar and him metal eye and of friends he made throughout his time. They shared the stories of lost love, of Jesminda and Graysen, of their own insecurities and heartaches. Elain’s heart went out to the male beside her but she never pitied him-no, she thought he was one of the strongest people she ever had the good fortune of meeting and one of the kindest and felt herself connect to him in a way she did with no one else.

They talked and talked well into the night, till only the stars and their own heartbeats remained as company. Sometime during their conversation, the mates had fallen asleep beside each other, their fingers intertwined. Elain’s head was tucked into Lucien’s shoulder, nestling in his warmth and just before sleep took him too, he stole a glance at his sleeping mate’s face-completely calm and carefree, and realized he’d be glad to have this everyday for the rest of his immortal life.

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raenday · 7 years ago

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Spotlight part 1

This is a continuation of an earlier story called It’s a Start, if you haven’t read it, this story will make a bit more sense but you should still understand it if you don’t. Also, I did not intend for this to have multiple parts but it just got really long and I don’t like having long posts but I will post the second part very soon.

Bim is tired of being nothing but a janitor, but what can he do against the infamous Wilford Warfstache? The crazy cotton candy hair killer with a heavy trigger finger? Will he ever get his chance to shine?

Bim took in a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly, but he tried his hardest to calm them. He looked at himself in the large mirror of his dressing room. He’d moved the chair in front of it so he could watch himself. Ever since the incident with the light, Bim’s been staying up late practicing control over his newly found abilities. He’s happy that there’s some progress being made, but it still doesn’t seem like enough.

He can hear Wilford in the studio, getting ready for today’s shots. He knows how impatient Wil can be, so he decides to try one more time before he goes out. Wilford is usually banging on the door once 7:00 am hits so he still has some time.

Bim extends his arms in front of him, his palms out facing the ceiling. The bottles of cologne on his vanity begin to wobble a little until they slowly start to levitate. Even only a few inches off, they are unsteady, Bim is still pretty new at this. He takes a few more breathes, steadying them. He concentrates his energy, but is sure not to over exert himself in just this little trial run. He did that once and was having dizzy spells all day. Wilford was not happy.

The caps of the bottles begin to unscrew and once they are completely off, Bim lets them fall to the floor. Still taking it easy, Bim slowly raise both of his index fingers so they are pointing the ceiling as he does, the liquids inside begin to empty out of thier containers. As they do, Bim uses his reality bending abilities to keep the scents contained and the cologne in a steady flowing steam in front of him.

Bim gently lets down the containers, now focusing only on the liquid. He combines the two streams into one large ball and begins to bend it into different shapes. Even though he just mixed 2 completely different scents, he doesn’t smell a thing. This fact alone surprises him, but what does even more is the fact that he can tell the two apart. Even with the swirling together, Bim can sense the different particles from one another. He doesn’t understand why, but he chooses to accept it.

After a little shape-shifting, he turns the stream into a long spike with a sharp edge. He smiles and gently lets his right hand inch closer to the end and barely touches the spike. As soon as he come into contact with it, the liquid begins to solidify, starting from one end and spreading to the other. It’s not like ice though. It isn’t cold to the touch, but in feels more like shards of glass forced together into one solid structure.

Bim’s eyes shine as they gaze over his creation. He lets it gently float into his hands. The sides are ridged and rough, but the end is sharp as a blade. He turns slowly and the blade follows his hands. He looks across the room at the empty wall and a sudden destructive urge overflows his senses. A dark smile graces his lips as he swiftly pushes his hands at the wall. The spike heads straight for the empty spot. It hits hard, going at least 3 inches in. Bim laughs to himself. He’s never been able to do something like that before! Sure, he used to mess with the contestants on his game show but this was much more deadly than he ever imagined.

His eyes lingered to the clock on his dresser. It was nearly 7. Bim quickly cleaned up his mess, liquefying and then separating the two colognes and then putting them back into their respective jars. Once he was done he sprayed a dash on himself and straightened up his suit. Looking himself over in the mirror. He’d never felt such confidence before. Sure, he was the star before, he had loads of self esteem then. But when he became Warfstache’s little dog, he lost all of that, but now he had his own little tricks to show off. Bim could hardly hide his smirk of excitement, thinking of how he was going to finally stand up to Wil.

His fantasies, along with his heart, was stopped when the sudden sound of a gunshots rang from the studio. Calming himself down, he sighed in annoyance. “Really?” He muttered, straightening his tie then walking out of his room. He walked into the studio and saw Wilford standing on the stage, his gun smoking in his hands. Bim glanced around the room and saw a bullet hole in the set wall. He began walking over, his arms out in confusion. “Wilford what’s your problem? I just finished redoing the set yesterday!” Bim felt like he was scolding a child that had just thrown a tantrum.

Wil rolled his eyes as he turned to the younger ego. “Well now you can redo it again, because the Googles decided to take pretty much all of sound equipment which means no show today!” He complained.

Bim cocked an eyebrow. “Why did they do that?” He asked

Wilford shook his head. “I don’t know, for whatever the hell androids do in their free time,” He rubbed his eyes and looked down. “Just fix it and take the rest of the day off. Kay Trimmer?” Bim paused for a second, looking down at his feet. He felt himself going back to its normal, complaint self, but he stopped himself.

Bim tightened his fists, standing his ground. “No,”

Wil looked up. “Excuse me?” It was then he noticed Bim was shining with confidence. It was different than how he usually was, and he had no idea where it was coming from.

Bim thought for a minute, wondering if now was really the right time to be defying Wilford. The thought soon disappeared. “You broke it, it’s only fair that you be the one to fix it,” There was no going back now. “Besides, I’m not your little servant. We’re supposed to be partners, remember?”

Wilford’s grip on the gun tightened with frustration. “You’re whatever the hell I say you are Trimmer! If you ever want a chance to get your little spotlight back,” Wil pointed at the set with his gun. “I suggest you fix that before you make things worse than you already have,” Wil’s threats weren’t to be taken lightly. They both knew this, and they both knew that he wouldn’t actually kill Bim. He couldn’t, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his life an absolute hell.

Bim showed no sign of moving. He smirked and held out his hands. “I don’t need you to get my spot light,” He said. Suddenly, the stage lights all turned on, each one shining a bright blue light., Wilford looked up as watched as the all turned til Bim was covered in light. Wil just stood there in shock for a moment.

“Huh,” He breathed out. “I see you learned a new trick,”

Bim’s smile disappeared. He knew it wasn’t anything Wil should be threatened by, but he had no idea what he was capable of now. “Oh you have no idea, Wilford,” His voice was much more threatening sounding. Wilford could tell he was different, but he didn’t lighten his own threatening glare.

“You think a little light show is something to be proud of?” He questioned. Bim’s heart freezes as Wil aims his gun straight at him. He didn’t think Wil would go this far, he must have been madder at the Googles than he thought. “It’ll take a lot more to scare me,” he moved his index finger over the trigger, slowly adding pressure to it. “I think you need to remember your place,”

There’s a loud bang. Bim’s arms fly up shielding himself and all the lights go out. It takes a minute until the overhead lights turn back on, but all the spotlights have shattered. Wil stares in complete awe, his gun falls to the ground. Bim opens his eyes, shocked that he’s still standing. He looks forward and, just light the fallen light, the bullet is spinning in front of his hands. Bim looks at it then back at Wilford, just as astonished.

He shot at you. Bim soon realizes the situations. His eyes become angry and he looks back at the spinning bullet in his hands. He thought you were weak. Oh boy was he wrong. Bim smiled mischievously. He remembered this morning, with the spike and reenacted the same moves. He stretched out his arms and Wilford was pushed against the wall. His heart racing and he could feel the bullet barely rubbing against his temple.

Bim’s hand was stretched out as he began to walk closer to Wilford. “Not much to be proud of eh?” He mocked. Bim had never seen Wil, The Wilford Warfstache, look so terrified in his life. And the best part was he was the one causing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment,” Bim stood inches away now. Wil could see the fury in his eyes. “You can’t boss me around anymore,”

Wilford looked into his eyes and suddenly all the terror was gone. Now he was… smiling? He raised his hand to Bim’s chest and pushed him across the room. The bullet fell to the ground and so did Bim. He struggled to just bring himself to his elbows. What went wrong? I must not be as strong as I thought. His thoughts were stopped by the sound of Wilford walking closer. Oh god, now I’m in for it!

Wil stopped in front of him and Bim just screwed his eyes shut, waiting to be kicked or punched or something. “Hey, Bim,” Bim opened his eyes. That was the first times in a long time he called him by his first name. He looked up and saw Wil offering him a hand up. Hesitantly he took it. Once he was eye level with the pink haired ego, he noticed the look of pride in his eyes. “Not bad, I mean not as great as me, but not far off,” He said with a huge teethy grin.

So I’m very tempted to make this a longer running story. I have a few ideas of what I want to do, but for now I hope you all enjoyed it!

#bim trimmer #wilford warfstache #googlplier #markiplier #markiplier tv #spotlight #spotlight part 1

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captainmapletheartisticdemon · 7 years ago

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Life of Lea : Chapter 12: Fairy Family Drama

Everyone then starts to eat their food. Glendora occasionally glared at Mimi. “Can you stop glaring at me, please?” Mimi asked a bit uncomfortable. “No I will not” Glendora snapped at her. “Please no drama…” Nick mutters. “Then she shouldn’t have come here” Glendora snapped again. “She can be here if she wants to” Nick snaps at her. “THEN SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE ABADONED US IN THE FIRST PLACE!” Glendora slams her hands on the table before leaving the room. Mimi was very stiff as she takes shaky breathes which was a first for Lea, Cloud, B.J., Vanessa, Sergean, and Sugar to see. “Are you ok, Mimi?” Lea asked a bit worried. Mimi doesn’t respond as she gets up and flies back to her room. Nick then follows Mimi from behind. “Well this was awkward” Sergean said with a sigh. “Indeed, it is” Lea mumbles as she was even more confused. “And I thought our family was dramatic” Cloud mumbles a bit. “Yea me too, Cloud” Lea replied back. “At least the food is good” Vanessa exclaims. “That’s true” Lea mumbles a bit. After they finished eating, they went to their rooms quietly. “Today has been so confusing…I need to sleep on this” Lea thought to herself as she closed her eyes. The next morning, Lea woke up to yelling, “…Really now…” Lea thought to herself. Cloud comes into her room in his dog form. “Why are they yelling this early?” Lea asked him. Cloud sighs before climbing into her bed. “Ok…” Lea said with a sigh. The yelling stopped with a big door slam. “Oh…boy…at least they stopped” Lea mumbles. Cloud makes some dog noises as a response. Lea yawns as she goes back to sleep. Lea later wakes up at 10 am with Cloud back in his human form. “Really now?” she mutters. Cloud was snoring loudly as he laid on his stomach. Lea sighs as she looks at him as his golden blonde hair fell in his face. “At least he is sleeping good…” she mutters. She yawns a bit before stretching a bit. Cloud then slowly wakes up from the bed’s movement. “Hm?” he mumbles lightly. “Sorry did I wake you up?” Lea said softly. “Hm…no you did not, Lea” Cloud replied back as he stretched. “Oh, alright then” she gets out of bed and gets some clean clothes then goes to the bathroom to change into them. Cloud got up afterwards and went back to his room to change his clothes too. Mimi slowly came into Lea’s room, “Lea?” she said as she looks around the room for her. “Yes, Mimi?” Lea replied back as she finished getting dressed and got her brush out. “…Did you hear anything this morning?” Mimi asked with a gloomy expression. “Just sounds of yelling nothing really clear though” Lea explained to her. “Oh…ok… sorry about that we didn’t mean to wake you up” Mimi replied in a soft voice. “It’s ok Mimi” Lea said as she looks at her concerned. “You sure?” Mimi asked. “Yes, I am sure” Lea replied back. “Alright then” Mimi said as she left the room. Lea stretches her arms and cracks her back a bit so they wouldn’t be stiff throughout the day. Glendora knocks on the door before coming inside. “Food is ready and… sorry about earlier” Glendora says softly. “Ok and it’s alright, sibling fights are normal” Lea explained. “Hm…I see your point” Glendora mutters. Lea nods the heads over to table with her. “Sleep good, princess?” Sergean asked. “Hm? Yea I did” Lea said a bit confused. “That’s good…we will have another magic lesson at lunch time” Sergean explained. “Hm…alright” Lea replied back. “Yea I’ll teach you the spell that makes mini clouds” Sergean explained. “Hm…ok” lea replied back. He nods as he serves himself food. “Today’s food sure looks yummy bits in the omelet” Lea thought to herself. “Mini clouds? What do you mean?” Cloud said confused. “They’re going to make small versions of the white things in the sky, stupid” B.J. snapped a bit. “Ok…and I ‘m not stupid” Cloud said with a pout. “Mhm…whatever you say” B.J. replied back sarcastically. They both start to growl at each other like they would do in their dog forms. “Hey now no growling at the table” Lea snaps at them. Cloud and B.J. pout then go back to eating their food. Lea sighs a bit then continues to eat her food. “Oh, and the food is great, Glendora” Mimi says with a smile. “Mhm…” Glendora mutters a bit. “Hm… least it wasn’t sarcastic” Lea thought to herself. “You look like you have a question… what is it?” Glendora asked. “Well…actually yes I do…will things go back to normal after all this?” Lea asked nervously. “You mean you liked a world without magic!? Why?” Glendora said confused. “Well that’s the type of world I was raised in” Lea replied back a bit insulted. “You poor thing…how could you live without it?” Glendora said with a pout. “I do just fine without cheating though life thank you. Besides my world has never had magic to begin with” Lea snapped at her. “Ok ok but why wouldn’t you want to live in a weird world? It’s a lot more interesting if you ask me” Glendora explained. “Hm…I guess you have a point there” Lea said with a small smile. “Of course, the word “normal” is an insult in this dimension” Glendora points out. “It is? That’s different” Lea said. “Indeed, it is but it keeps life interesting though” Glendora said with a smile. “Hm…I guess that is a good way of living” Lea exclaims. “It really is, Lea” Glendora replies back. Lea nods before getting her sketchbook. “Oh, you draw?” Glendora said a bit curious. “Hm? Yea I am” Lea replied back. “Nothing, I just find art cool is all” Glendora says, “Oh, alright then” Lea replied back. Glendora nods a bit before leaving the room. Lea sighs a bit after Glendora left. She had a lot on her mind, the drama between Mimi and Glendora, being on an actual magical adventure, and having weird dreams. “You look troubled” Sergean said as he came in the room. “Do I need another reason to not be troubled?” Lea replied back. “Fair point” Sergean said as he sat beside her. “Yea…” Lea replied in a soft voice. “Our magic lesson is coming up soon” Sergean exclaims. “Ok” Lea replied back with a yawn. “………Need a…um hug?” Sergean asked a bit nervous. “Never thought you’d offer me that…but sure” Lea sits up and hugs him. “Well…I’m not a bad guy you know” he said as he hugs her back. “Yes, I see that” Lea replied back. “He does smell like clam chowder soup and roses…” Lea thought to herself. “Something wrong, princess?” Sergean said a bit confused. “Huh? no” Lea replied back softly. “Ok then…” He said a bit confused. Lea nods as she lets of him. Sergean let go of her a bit after she did. “Um……thanks for the hug, Sergean” Lea said softly. “No problem, Lea” Sergean replied back. “Heh so you do know my name” Lea jokes. “Shut up!” Sergean said with a pout. “Make me, Serg” Lea jokes again. Sergean grabs a pillow and hits her with it as a response. “Yea that’s mature, Serg” Lea said as she hits him with the other pillow in return. “Look who’s talking, princess” Sergean replied back as he hits her with the pillow again. “Uhuh well at least I’m not a stick in the mud” Lea says as she hits him with the pillow again. “At least I have my priorities in check unlike you!” Sergean replies with another swing of the pillow. “At least I have a personality unlike you!” Lea said with another swing of the pillow. Sergean sighs and puts the pillow down, “Did that help you to release some stress out?” “Eh?... um yea it did…” Lea said realizing what his intention was with the mini pillow fight. “Good” Sergean replied with another swing of the pillow. “Hey! I thought we were going to stop with that!” Lea said with a pout. “Yea we are but winning a battle is more fun though” he joked. “…Uhuh” she said sarcastically. “Anyways let’s get going to the nature region to meet up with the others” Sergean exclaims. “Right” Lea replied in agreement. To be continued in : Chapter 13: Nature Region and Magic Lesson Number two

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