#the choice whether you stay inside and starve or go out and learn how to survive

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

I love markiplier but I kinda wish there was a trigger warning on his newest video (unless there was one and I missed it somehow)

[youryanderedaddy]

Best Friends Forever

 Summary: Your best friend finally has you back after all these years, tied up on his bed and ready to learn your lesson.

Tw: nsfw, non-con, slight mention of blood, threats, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, cursing, infantilization, possessive behavior, patronizing behavior, overuse of petnames, slight dom vibezz 

You knew your boyfriend was a lost cause, an addict so gone he would have done anything for a fix, but you never expected him to stoop so fucking low. 

 You had woken up in a suspiciously familiar place, laying on sheets oh so soft, puffy and white you simply couldn’t mistake the bed you were on. The walls were painted in black and blue, a combination so deeply engraved in your mind you couldn’t shake off the feeling you weren’t trully conscious, but dreaming of a happy yet distant memory of the past. It took you less than a second to realize you were in his room - the one where you had spent so many joyfull sleepless nights back in your youth. The relief was short - lived, though, because the moment you tried to move around, you became aware of the tight rope keeping your sore limbs tied to the wooden bed frame. After a while of twisting and thrashing around while screaming at the top of your lungs for help you finally heard the door open. You hoped you would at last be able to go home now, still desperate to believe this was merely a prank, a way for your junkie of a boyfriend to scare you into giving him money.

 “There is no use trying to escape the bonds, my little love.” His voice emited through the small room, low, smooth as butter and softer than ever. You tried to lift your head and catch a glipse of the person talking, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things or going insane. And there he was in all his glory, the boy, no, the man you knew well looking so different from how you remembered him, but still it felt impossible not to see the many similarities - from the unruly dark curls to the warm gray eyes that used to be your only guide during times of misery and pain. This was none other than your childhood best friend and you had absolutely no idea why you were tied to his bed. “Oliver, why on earth am I here?” You asked as soon as the initial shock had worn off, completely forgetting to address the weird petname the student had called you.

 He smirked slightly before crossing the distance keeping him away from you, and carefully sat down by your left side. He reached out to stroke your cheek in an affectionate way, his fingers lingering for a moment too long for it to be considered a mere platonic gesture. You tried to turn your head away from the warm touch since it made you feel uncomfortable and left you with so many new questions. “I missed you so much, precious.” Oliver took a deep breath and smiled at you, gently moving your jawline so you had no choice but to face him once again. “I was so happy when that disgusting piece of shit you call a boyfriend offered you to me.” The man bent to your shoulder-level and whispered in your ear, his tone so full of sick satisfaction you could swear there was honey dripping from his mouth. “I paid a lot of money to have you back, sweetheart.” He licked his lips in an obscene, suggestive way and you had to supress the sudden urge to vomit as you finally remembered exaclty why you had stopped contacting your best friend once you had started college. The boy used to be clingy, obsessive even, but you could have never guessed it was that bad.

 “Oliver, please untie me, you are scaring me.” You pleaded in a tiny voice, hoping to summon what was left of the goodness he had tucked away deep in his heart. In response the male only chuckled and shook his head as he placed a small kiss against your neck, causing you to shiver in discomfort and disgust while you were mentally debating whether you wanted to kill him or your ex boyfriend first. Soon your spiteful thoughts were replaced by panic when your captor brought his hand to your t-shirt and started unclasping the small buttons one by one. You couldn’t help but turn red from embarassment the moment you felt your nipples harden under his palm and you became painfully aware you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. Your former friend had your tender breasts exposed to the cold air in a matter of seconds, his terrible fingers already pinching and pulling at the erect tips. “You have such pretty tits, darling.” He said huskily while squeezing your boobs, licking and biting the stretched skin. You hissed in pain and squirmed in a desperate attempt to move away but the rope was holding you in place, tightening around your sore injured wrists even more. 

 “I have wanted you for so long, angel.” The student admitted quietly, his stormy eyes fixed on yours, his stare so intense it could burn a hole through you. “Tonight I will make you mine.” Oliver declared with a clear sense of confidence and claimed your lips in a quick rough manner, muffling your pitiful whimpers like a man starved and hungry for flesh. The forced kiss and his deranged words made your stomach turn but something in his longing gaze told you there was a lot more in store. The guess, much to your horror, was soon confirmed when the dark - haired male reached down between your parted legs and easily slipped your panties down to your ankles. With your last bit of protection gone you felt awfully vulnerable, literally naked in front of the beast too keen on the past to see how much he was hurting you right now, in the present. You wanted to scream the second his fat grabby fingers pried your folds open, but choking on your desperate sobs proved easier at that moment.

 “Aww, don’t cry, angel.” Oliver growled playfully and slid his index into your tight entrance, quickly adding a second one before you had the time to adjust properly. “I have to prepare you, baby, otherwise my cock may just tear you apart.” He remarked in low sickening voice, the excuse too crude and vulgar to be an act of caring. You whined as your walls clenched down tight now that there were three fingers stretching your hole, and you berely managed to utter “too full” before your friend pulled you for a deep kiss again, his tongue devouring your mouth, leaving you breathless and queit while sucking in the sweet pained moans. “You can take it, babygirl.” The man groaned against your swollen red lips and grabbed your hips in a strong hold - you were sure there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

  Eventually, after half an hour of pushing his fingers in and out of your channel, lapping at your neck and leaving wet love marks all over your collarbone, the student was satisfied with his work. He had turned you into a whimpering mess and was ready to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his labor, whether you liked it or not. “I am going to put it in now, precious.” Oliver pecked you on the cheek just to lick the salty trace of tears off your puffy skin. “I will force my whole length in your perfect little pussy.” Your captor bit your sensitive earlobe and you broke down in tears like a kid, the threat ringing in your ears like the gospel. “This might hurt a bit so I advise you to stay still and relax, baby.” The way the man continued casually, almost cheerfully, as if he wasn’t about to brutally rape you, made your skin crawl, but there was nothing you could do. You were all tied up, powerless to stop him. Suddenly, without any warning, his hard thick member entered you, piercing pain spreading through your whole body. The student panted in pleasure as soon as he thrust his manhood into your heat, the way it sucked him in leaving him high and blissful. You let a few miserable whimpers, the ache too much to bear, his moves too harsh, sudden and deep. 

  “Don’t give me such a-agh tormented expression, my love.” Oliver quickly shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth and pressing down to prevent any noise that might have escaped. His gaze was lustful, insane, but also loving in a twisted, perverse way. “Fuck, I love you so much.” He muttered, his voice gentle for a split second before going back to being taunting and mocking. “I used to be so angry each and every time you dated another guy, another asshole who was only after your body.” The man was rambling now, his face turning red at his own vicious thoughts, his growing anger reflecting in his cloudy pupils and his painful thrusts. “You always chose them over me like a stupid little bitch ...” He whispered dangerously and lifted your body towards his own so you could take his hits even deeper, so deep that you could feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix. “Well, now you don’t have a choice, angel. I have claimed you and I will keep you here forever.” You were crying out in agony, your pussy clamping down around the enormous length slapping again and again against your core. It burned so bad you wished you could dissapear somewhere far away just so you could have a moment of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’s almost over, you can take it for me, right?” The male cooed at you, switching back to that disgusting, infantilizing baby voice you had already grown to despise. When you failed to respond he gripped your throat, squeezing so tightly blood rushed to your cheeks and you inhaled sharply though your mouth only to feel the suffocation cut your breath short. “Answer me.” He barked through gritted teeth and you nodded frantically, desperate to gasp for air and cling onto dear life. 

 “Good girl.” Your former friend purred, pleased with your obedience, and let go of your neck, grabbing your hips instead. You coughed and drooled pathetically until you managed to resume your breathing, but the man, still buried deep inside you, seemed too caught up in chasing his own pleasure to notice how badly he had hurt you. Fortunately for you Oliver was really close, that much was obvious by his furious shoves at your abused cervix and his low growls each time he lowered his head to kiss you. Soon he came with a loud moan, painting your walls white, your ruined hole dripping with his seed and your blood. 

 Your captor seemed satisfied afterwards, peaceful in a way - there was a small smile adorining his cold lips as he wiped the tears off your face and squished your bruised body against his strong frame in a tight hug. You bit your tongue to stop the tears from overflowing once again, but to no avail. He let you sob in his arms until there wasn’t liquid left in your red, puffy eyes. 

 “You did very well, my love. I am really proud of you.” Oliver kissed your temple gently, resisting the temptation to graze you all over again with his lips, tongue and fingers. “I will help you clean up, then I will fix you some nice dinner.” He murmured in your ear, tickling the heirs on the back of your neck with his warm breath. “Doesn’t this sound good, baby?”

 You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.

[rymndsmth]

querencia (jang han seo)

🎤 hello and gather around fellow himbo lovers, here is a small fic about our beloved and his life after That guy kicks the bucket. also idk how i managed to turn this into a love story? anyways lmfao, hope y’all enjoy! 

Everything felt so different.

Truthfully, Han Seo never imagined what his life could be like, would be like, without the proverbial ever tightening noose around his neck. One that had been unexpectedly and disappointingly placed on him as a child by the one person that was supposed to remove such things. He was now free of that person, and the fear that stemmed from veering off the path set by them, but wasn’t entirely too certain that he was free of that feeling. 

His muscles couldn’t shake it. The sudden chill to the bone, the anticipation of retaliation from an act that hadn’t yet occurred. Such an act that could never occur anymore given that his brother was dead. He knew this, but his mind had never been good at accepting possibilities that were positive. 

This much was evident in the case of his relationship with Vincenzo. There was no reason why the stoic yet baby faced Mafia member would want to keep him around, at least not any that he could see. So, Han Seo spent the first few weeks asking the question both silently and aloud, will you kill me? Vincenzo had the motive, it’s not exactly like his hands were clean in his previous dealings with Babel, and he most certainly had the means.

It wasn’t until Han Seo was told that because he was trying to make amends, he wouldn’t end up in the Jang family crypt well before his time that he started to feel at ease. Still, for months after that conversation, he still had the nagging feeling that some invisible fist was lurking around every bend. 

Regardless of that, Han Seo decided he would not waste his liberation however short lived it might have been. He made up his mind that he was going to do all the things that he was either too scared or outright forbidden to do before. The first thing on his list was to clean up his business. Luckily for him, the Guillotine file made it easy to weed out the snakes in the grass and allow him to steer Babel in the direction that the core of the business was about. 

The hardest part was going to be restoring the public’s faith in the organization. Cha Young told him as much, and advised him not to agonize over it as there will be new corruption that will grab their attention (and hers). He intended to be the Chairman that such a company deserved, and therefore continued to study no matter how nonsensical and outdated the information seemed. 

The second order of business was moving out of the place that felt more like a prison than a home to one that he liked. The realtor immediately recommended a few luxury places, but he turned them down to their surprise. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had seen what the quest for material wealth had done to his family (or more realistically because he wanted to be closer to newfound hyung  and his girlfriend). 

Either way, the house he settled on had its luxuries, but in a more affordable and quaint neighborhood. Han Seo even went as far as to attempt painting on his own, which went as well as expected for someone that didn’t even know the difference between a brush and a roller. 

Being able to do what he wanted proved to be chaotic at times. There was no one to stop him from going on last minute trips to Jeju just for oranges and a quick dip into the ocean. Or to take away all the sweet and savory snacks that he found at these things called convenience stores. 

He would stay up all night sometimes, not to binge watch all the shows he missed out on, but just to sit in silence. He didn’t know that the quiet could be so nice. That it was a space of tranquility and relaxation rather than one filled with anxiety. Of course, Han Seo more often than not regretted the choice not to sleep and ended up at the cafe a few blocks from his place. 

While obviously no one had better coffee than the one at Babel, he found himself going to the cozy spot with increasing frequency because of her. The first time he saw her, she was deciding on which apple to choose from the basket beside the register. He then noticed that her canvas bag was filled with art supplies, and decided that it was a brilliant idea to draw a conclusion. 

I think the one to the right would make a great subject on paper, he grinned. 

She stared at him in a way that made him contemplate whether to not she was related to Vincenzo hyung before replying flatly:

I’m looking for the tartest one to go with my tea. 

He was left a bumbling mess of flustered sounds and rapidly blinks, not getting the opportunity to insert some retort that undoubtably would’ve put him deeper into the realm of idiot. 

The following morning he went again. No cup of coffee, not even the ridiculously overpriced espresso at Babel, would give him that jolt of electricity he felt under her gaze. And sure enough, she was there. This time her apple sat upon a folded napkin right beside her tea, and in front of them both was her sketchpad. On the page? A picture of the fruit. He couldn’t control the noise of exasperation that left him as he passed her table. On his way out he tossed over his shoulder with a grin so wide it hurt:

Nice drawing. 

Their interactions continued in that same vein. Short, filled with just the right amount of bite. The balance of who had the best and last say constantly shifting, becoming somewhat of a competition. 

You’re outside today, is that weed your subject?

As if there weren’t enough clowns in this neighborhood already.

You buy a lot of lattes for an artist that’s supposed to be starving.

Ironic coming from the gentrifier walking around a working class neighborhood in thousand dollar shoes.  

He had look up what that g word meant after their last exchange.

There was something else he never got to do in his past. Sure, Han Seo had the occasional date or two, but commitment? That was out of the question. It wouldn’t have served his brother well if there was anyone around that would motivate him to step out from his hold. The realization that he never had a serious relationship hadn’t hit him until he started to have inconvenient thoughts during board meetings about stuff like taking a long afternoon stroll, and holding hands with her.

Han Seo could barely focus on the stack of jargon dense reading before him. He sent Vincenzo a text saying that he was coming over with soju, not waiting for a reply before making the short journey to Geumga. Cha Young’s face fell when she answered the door, muttering that she thought he was her delivery, but lit up once she saw he brought along alcohol. After poking around the rice he begged for them to share and sighing loudly for half an hour, Vincenzo ushered him out. He implored him to get a hobby so that these late night visits wouldn’t become a habit.  

He was confused by that. Weren’t studying and running a company hobbies? On his walk back home he spotted a flyer that someone was offering private classes for beginners painting. The nightmare of a time he had trying to get the walls in his kitchen evenly colored popped up in his brain, instantly making him tear off one of the numbers. He didn’t exactly know how learning to paint homes was going to be a practical hobby, but hell, he would have something to show Vincenzo later. 

While he was on one of his impromptu trips to the seaside, Han Seo had his assistant set up the class for him to take when he returned. As a gift for the instructor, he thought it would be nice to bring them an extra bag of oranges. If the session sucked, or if he hated it, at the very least there was going to be something to brighten the mood. 

The day he got back, he even went as far as to tidy up the place on his own and put some fresh flowers around so the air was lightly scented. He practically waited at the door until the alarm sounded to let him know that his instructor arrived. 

Is this a joke? She huffed.

No, I didn’t even know you were the teacher! His protest was adamant. I was on a trip and even brought back Jeju- He paused. Han Seo knew he wasn’t the brightest, but bringing up the oranges seemed like it would upset her given their previous history. 

You brought back what? Her brow raised.

Mmm, good energy! Don’t you feel the vibes from the ocean? He spread his arms wide. 

Han Seo waved her inside hurriedly, trying desperately to get past the awkward exchange. Of all people, he never would’ve thought it would be the neighborhood’s cute sass machine. A small noise of happiness couldn’t be stopped from escaping him as she accepted the invitation. Her eyes scanned the place without restraint, nose wrinkling when she took a look at the kitchen. 

Where are your supplies? A slender finger ran across the surface of his counter. 

Supplies? He thought that was included in the price for the lessons. 

She sighed, placing a sketchbook, brushes, and small pots of paint onto the table. It was now very apparent to him that the advertisement did not mean what he thought it did. Thank goodness he also didn’t decide to open his mouth about that beforehand, it probably would’ve made her smack him with her bag. 

Here, the materials were slid over when he sat. Paint something.

His facial expression surely mirrored what he was thinking. Han Seo had no recollection of ever trying to do this, not even during the course of his way overpriced private school education. She urged him on with a nod, only relaxing into her chair when he flipped open the book and picked up a fine brush. 

There was nothing in particular he wanted to paint. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to paint at all. This was simply something random that came up when he needed it. 

To avoid being chastised, he dipped his brush into the light blue color and started swiping randomly across the blank page. He swapped the brush and added some dark green, then pink, and finished if off with small dots of white. At the end it looked like something a toddler would’ve considered a masterpiece. She eyed it with surprising interest. 

You clearly didn’t know what you wanted to achieve with this, or why you were doing it at all. 

Han Seo was about to interject with a prideful defense before she continued. 

That’s good. It’s better to work with an unbiased mind. Her eyes met his. Your technique is shit though. 

He laughed, like truly laughed. It was a full bellied, unashamedly loud, attack of sonic waves. She seemed to find it amusing, a hint of a smile dancing across her lips. 

Alright, let’s start with how to actually hold a paintbrush. 

There was no telling when their interactions had gone from less than playful banter to warm and friendly (still with a side of joking). Han Seo couldn’t put his finger on it. Did it happen during the second lesson where he mistakenly put paint on her hands, and didn’t settle for no when he said he would wash them off for her? 

Or was it the time he was running late for work, but the barista already had his order prepared because she told them that he was on the way? Perhaps it was the time she had to reschedule their Saturday morning for the evening instead, and all he could think about was trying to replicate the color of her alcohol flushed cheeks onto the page before him. 

Han Seo had never done the whole confession thing before, so he wasn’t sure about how it worked. An unfamiliar kind of anxiety crept up his spine as he poured glasses of wine and organized a fruit plate. Soft music played in the background accompanied by the crackle of the expensive candles he bought specifically for the occasion. Her mouth parted slightly as she took everything in once she arrived for what was supposed to be an ordinary session involving watercolors. 

Wow, got a hot date later or something? Her legs seemed to automatically take her to the table. 

Actually, He brought the glasses over to where she sat. It’s for you. 

Oh…She gasped. A few seconds passed that felt more like minutes before she picked one up and held it high. Cheers then!

Something about it made him feel like he made a mistake. Did he misread their change in demeanor towards one another? Was she truly just being kinder to him because she considered him to only be a friend? Han Seo tried to not let the embarrassment he felt seep into the room, keeping a smile locked and loaded for when she made a witty remark about stuff like him painting in the most inappropriate white button down. 

Don’t you have something to say to me? She quipped, neatly putting her things away after he finished. 

Me? I- no…I... He clenched his fists. Why couldn’t he come out and say it?! This was as good as a chance as he was ever going to get. If he let this opportunity slip, he wasn’t sure if there would be one again. He had to act, he had to-

What sounded like a small growl came from her as she raked her hand through her hair. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her nose just shy of rubbing against his. 

Jang Han Seo, when are you gonna stop driving me insane? She murmured, labored breaths dancing across his cupid’s bow. 

If only she knew how true and reciprocated that question was to him too. From the moment he couldn’t fight against thoughts about her entering his mind, to the smile she wore when he stepped across his threshold, and the way she said his goddamned name, it was all enough to make him want to combust. To burst out of his skin, transforming into something or someone else entirely. A person that fully accepted that there were no more restraints on their lives, that they was no more fear and no more betrayal. Someone that was completely in control, and free to take what was theirs. And so he did. 

It was painful, almost, the first time he kissed her. The second time even more so. By the third time, coupled with the question of her tongue prodding at his bottom lip, Han Seo had shedded the last of his previous being. He cupped her face, thumbs toying with her curled sideburns as he consumed her. Quiet whimpers made way for desperate cries, shivers were replaced by the searing heat of skin on skin. 

The high he’d chased fruitlessly so many times throughout his life was finally achieved with his arms wrapped tightly around her, their bodies pressed together as she shuddered and sighed his name. He was in disbelief that what he had experienced was real, so he chased it again and again, receiving the same result each time his sweat slicked forehead bowed to meet hers. 

Han Seo would learn that it could be obtained outside of that space they filled with the tangible evidence of their desire. It was also in buying melon flavored ice pops to eat in the park together on sunny days. The look on Vincenzo and Cha Young’s face when he timidly made the introduction. Her expression when she took her first bite of Hee Soo’s tteokbokki. When Mr. Nam and her had an hour long debate on which shade of red made the most realistic fake blood color. The flashing Best Chairman Ever coming from her phone when Babel secured their biggest deal yet without any dirty deals behind the scenes. 

That feeling, one that outshone the other by such a long shot that it was nearly eradicated, had been there all along in the life he’d made. She just helped him see it.  

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette chp 4, part 3: visiting jean’s mom

an: so, i decided i'd write the elimination in a separate chapter, one, just to mess with y'all and two, to give you time. i honestly think picking one of these three guys is really hard. obviously, i know who i want to win, but i look at the two other guys and i'm like 'oh, they would be good too!'. i like pulling at your heartstrings ;). i'll probably put together another q&a (depending on the numbers of questions i get) and once i do that, i'll wait for a day and then close the poll to start writing! anyways, let me stop sharing my thought process with yall and start your date with jean. link at the bottom!

tags: black, fem reader

tag list: @taybird

Bertholdt drove you back to the mansion and you texted Connie asking him to prepare something for you, Bertholdt. Jean and Connie to eat. And maybe a lil something for that brat Levi. Connie responded with an 'ok' and a smiley face.

The car ride home was silent. You felt awful for Bertholdt. You wondered how many silent post-hospital drives he's been through.

Once you got home, Bertholdt told you he wasn't very hungry and just wanted to lay down. You wanted to argue with him but Bertholdt needed space. You wish him good night before making your way to the kitchen.

Connie and Jean were chatting it up in the kitchen once you walked in. Connie was the one to announce your entrance. "Hey, y/n," he greets. Jean then turns around. "Hey, y/n. How is Bert holding up? I understand that visit was really hard."

"Thank you for asking, Jean. Bertie...well...he's just being human. His dad...it's really bad," you reply. You take a seat by Jean at the kitchen island. "The fact that he's been holding in for a while...it's crazy. I would have never thought he was in that situation. No wonder he was so stressed after that Porco got angry with him," Jean says. You raise an eyebrow at Jean. "Oh...after Porco got angry with him about you, Bert seemed sadder and more introverted than usual. He only really confided in Reiner, though," Jean explained.

"Ah, that makes sense. Poor Bertie."

Connie had made some garlic bread with ava ado toast and egg. You didn't expect that out of him but you all enjoyed it. You felt tired, so you told the guys you were ready to lay down. They wished you good night before diving into a conversation about...y'all i don't even know what men talk about 😐

The next morning, you woke up at the same time as you did for Connie's visit. Your final visit would be Jean's mom. She also lived far away from the mansion but Jean insisted that you could take your time. She would still be at her home. No nurses to rush you out or kids bugging their parents. You hoped this visit would be as peaceful as it sounded.

You were very hungry though. You didn't realize it last night about the whole Bertholdt thing and you only had those little stupid avocado things that Connie made. It was good but didn't feel you up. You decided you would take a bath and get ready for your visit later.

You crept downstairs, hoping not to wake anyone up. You didn't want Levi questioning you and you didn't want to stop and talk to the boys because you would probably have a day-long conversation and if that conversation was with Jean, you probably wouldn't see his mom.

You made a few turns and found yourself in the kitchen. And you weren't alone. Jean was leaning on the kitchen counter, sipping on some coffee that he had made. His eyebrows widened at your presence.

"Good morning," he greeted, "I didn't expect you to be up right now."

"Oh, I'm just hungry right now. Didn't eat much yesterday," you say. Jean places his coffee down on the table. "Would you like me to make you something?"

You were about to say yes but a greater idea came into mind. "Why don't we make something together? It would be fun and give you bonus points..." You wiggle your eyebrows when you say that last part. Jean let out a laugh. "Well, you're hungry and I can't let you starve. Us working together will make things faster...and those 'bonus points' would help a lot."

You walk towards Jean and his eyes remain on you. You find yourself wrapping his arms around his waist. It was just on-demand. Jean pulls you close and kisses your forehead. "What do you wanna make?"You think for a minute. "You know how to make (meal of your choice)?"

Whether Jean says yes or no is up to you. However, Jean is really good at following directions. If you need something, he'll get it. If you needed him to watch something, he watches it with intensity.

After a few minutes, the meal was ready and you both sat by the kitchen island and dug in. "I hope Connie doesn't wake up and butt into our breakfast," you joke. Jean let out a small laugh. "Connie's really nice. He hasn't shown me or anyone else any hostility during our time here."

"If you could say...who did you think was the worst person here?" you ask. Jean doesn't even have to wait to answer. "I'd have to Floch. Confidence is key but Floch just got disrespectful about it. Talking about how we should all go home and let him have you. And he was only here one night and everyone already had a bad vibe about him."

Your heart panged at that answer. "Thank you for telling me. I know everyone likes drama but Floch sounds...dangerous. I don't know what would have happened if he stayed." "Yeah, of course. Sorry if that made you uncomfortable," Jean said sheepishly. The discomfort must have been visible on your face. "No, don't apologize. I asked."

You continued to eat your breakfast and chat and hear about Jean's experience in the mansion so far.

After breakfast, you and Jean got ready for the day and finally decided to head out. Jean was starting his car when you decided to ask another question.

"I've never heard you talk about your dad. I've heard bits about your mom and you've mentioned her to the other guys but I never hear about your father. He isn't dead right? Is he sick? Like Bertholdt's?"

Jean is silent for a minute. "Oh...I don't really like talking about my dad, but you would have to know at some point."

"Oh, Jean...you don't have to. Don't worry about it."

He shakes his head. "It's fine. We were going to have this conversation pretty soon, so it doesn't matter."

Jean starts moving the car and when he's out on the road, he begins to talk.

"My dad has never been in my life. At this point, I don't know if he's dead or not. Sometimes I feel like he isn't my father. We did talk like once or twice when I was a kid and I was actually desperate to see him. But once I reached high school and started preparing for my adult life, I realized he wasn't worth it anymore. If my dad really wanted to be there for me, he would have reached out more often and let me know that things were hard on his end. I know everything I'm saying is being recorded and broadcasted, so if he ever sees me on TV, he can always hit me up. I just won't be naïve and stupid like I was the last time."

You immediately jump in after that last line. "Hey. You weren't naïve or stupid. He was stupid. You were a kid waiting on his dad. You had every right to wait for him, so don't insult yourself over him."

Deep down inside, you weren't sure if you wanted to meet Jean's dad...if he was alive. Jean didn't seem comfortable talking about him at all, so you shouldn't expect any visits or calls from that man. If you were to have kids and he popped up, that'd be hard to deal with. It would probably break Jean's heart to learn that his father would want to see his grandkids before even meeting the guy who helped make them.

Jean doesn't respond to what you said. Again, this was hard for him and he didn't even want to bring his father up in the first place, so you weren't upset.

You end up falling asleep in the car. Hours later, you wake up and Jean is parked in front of a bakery. He's on the phone. "Yeah, ma, we're here. Right in front of it, she's sleeping but we'll head inside....I miss you too...alright then, bye."

Jean hangs up and places the phone down. He jumps slightly when he realizes you're awake. "H-hey. I thought you were sleeping."

"Well, I was. Your mom is ready to see us?" You ask. "Yeah. She owns this bakery and decided to close completely today to meet you. I asked her if we could meet at home but she insisted that her bakery would be best. She's really proud of it," Jean explains. "Are we going to bake something?"

Jean laughs and shakes his head no. "Oh, no. My mom won't let you do any work in there, since you're a special guest. She put some things together if you want to eat something."

You imagined Jean's mother as someone who prioritized her future-in-law over her own son sometimes. It sounds overbearing but you thought this was a good thing. You wouldn't want an evil mother or father-in-law. If Jean were to cheat on you or hurt you, you knew she'd probably be on your side or hear both sides instead of immediately siding with her son.

You also wanted to assume that she was tough on Jean. Considering that she raised him herself, she had to do other things like work. To give herself some peace, she probably had a no-nonsense household- maybe why Jean was more like a puppy and wasn't as scandalous as the eliminated.

Jean got out of the car and helped you out. He didn't take your hand when directing you to the bakery but opened the door for you. Inside was a short, older woman, standing there with her hands clasped. The minute you stepped in, her excitement exploded. "Hi! Welcome! It's finally nice to meet you," she says. The older woman squeezes and you can't help but let out a chuckle...or a wheeze. "H-hey, mom. Maybe you should let her go," Jean steps in nervously. Jean's mom slowly lets go. "I'm sorry! I just got excited. Are you hungry?"

You shake your head. "No, Mrs. Kirstein. Jean actually helped me put together breakfast."

"Good, good. I'm glad he's being useful! And call me June. Come, sit, sit."

Jean's mom takes your hand and leads you to a small table and pulls open a chair for you. Jean quietly pulls a chair up by you. You start to worry about him because all the attention is on you, rather than the both of you.

"Can I get you something to drink?" June asks. "Some water would be nice," you answer. Your eye catches Jean's hand. You place your own on his and you feel him jump slightly. "Jean, would you like something too?"

"I-I'll take water too," Jean croaks. "Well, Jean, I'm sure you can serve yourself. I'm getting old, you know. Make sure you get a glass for y/n too."

Jean looks ready to argue back but he keeps his lips zipped. He carefully removes your hand from

his, gets up, and heads over to the back of the bakery.

You watch Jean do all of this and then finally turn away so that you can give June all your attention. "Please tell me he's been good to you," she starts. You weren't expecting this question but considers why she's asking. "Yes, Jean is...amazing. He's always coming to my defense. Which I shouldn't be surprised by, he is a lawyer."

June sighs in relief. "I hope he stays that way. He told you...about our situation right?" You nod. "It's unfortunate that his father did that to the both of you. If Jean does get married to me, I hope he doesn't pop out of anywhere. Jean's a good guy but I'm not too sure how he'll react to something like that." June let's our a small hum.

"Have you been watching the show?" you ask. "A little. I work, so it's hard to catch up on what's going on. Sometimes I'll read articles and Jean will text me to let me know if he didn't get eliminated. I was a little concerned about him doing the show because nothing is guaranteed."

"Hm...is he cocky about this whole thing? Does he really think he can get me?"

June thinks for a moment. "I can't say cocky but there's nothing wrong with a little confidence. Jean is handsome, he has a good job, he's smart- and he knows that. He believed those would be good reasons for you to like him. But...he does get bashful sometimes. He doesn't want all the attention on him and for people to view him in the wrong way. The fact that he had a mirror in his pocket on the first night was interesting to me. He's never done anything like that before."

You open your mouth but Jean enters once more. He places three water bottles on the table. "Sorry for taking too long. Ma, I'll replace the waters. Don't worry about it," he says. June shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, Jean. We have plenty of water."

"So, have you two discussed wedding plans? Anything for the future?" June suddenly asks. You look at Jean, who looks like his stomach was doing the chacha slide or sum. "M-mom-!"

"Well, we haven't reached that point because we don't know if he's staying or not but I'd like a really elegant wedding. I know we'll have a live-streamed wedding but I'd like to have a private wedding too. That would be nice right?" you cut in. Jean nods in agreement.

"What about kids? I read somewhere that you wanted a family," you tease. Jean's face reddened. "W-well...um...yeah...two would be nice. A girl and b-boy maybe?"

"See? We have a plan," you say with a wide smile. You could imagine Jean as a cautious dad but he still knew how to have fun with his kids. After long days at work, he'd cuddle with them and put them to sleep for you. When the kids are asleep, he'll check on you and make sure you had something to eat. He'd probably make sure to schedule regular date nights and family vacations. He'll have photos of you and the kids and maybe a few bandages in a wallet. Obviously, you would both be in the public eye once in a while but he would make things feel normal.

"I think you two would have beautiful kids. I do hope Jean gets picked. But your two other guys are good too. Bertholdt is absolutely adorable and Connie seems like he knows what he's doing. I don't know how you're ever going to choose. I can't imagine being your situation," June says.

"Wow, thanks for having my back mom," Jean says jokingly. "But if not me, pick Connie. He's a good person."

"Oh, Jean, don't do that to yourself. You're lovely." You cup his cheek and his reddened face returns.

Jean's mom starts talking about Jean when he was a kid- how he was such a big softie and a great helper,  how he was popular in high school but still to himself, and all the girlfriends and boyfriends that she didn't like.

It was getting late. Jean's mom offered you her home but Jean stopped her before she could ask. You didn't question why he didn't want to stay at her home but still wondered why. You said your goodbyes, watched her lock the bakery, and drive off. Jean helps you into his car and gets into the drivers' seat.

"You know why she wanted to you go home with her?" he asks.

You shake your head no. "There's only one bed. A twin size bed," Jean says as he starts the car. You let out a chuckle. "Connie's parents tried that with us except Connie had a bigger bed."

Jean looks over at you. "Oh...I should have probably taken her offer."

"Connie and I didn't do anything that night...maybe you could give me a sample of what you can do. It'll help me decide."

Jean didn't hesitate to lean over and cup your cheek. He went in first. Jean was gentle and careful with your lips. You soon gave in and wrapped a hand on his wrist. When things started to get hot, you pulled away. "Didn't expect you to be that gentle...You really want me, huh?"

"Yeah," Jean says scratching his neck. "You're pretty rough... you have experience?"

Whether you say yes or no is up to you.

Jean smiles at your answer and starts driving. You try to fall asleep but it's so hard. All you can see is Bertholdt, Connie, and Jean at the next elimination. You wished Eren or Onyankopon did stupid stuff later on and were a part of the final three so that this could be easier.

Hours later, Jean reaches the mansion. He thinks you're still asleep. He doesn't want to wake you up. So what does he do? Jean opens the passenger door and scoops you up in his arms. Your heart jumps. You hope it's dark enough outside so that he can't see the small smile you're trying not to crack.

It doesn't Jean long to get to the door and ring the doorbell. He must be really strong. The door opens and he's greeted by Connie.

"You need help with that man?"

"Um...no...I think I'll get her up there. But you could get her purse from my car though. She'll probably wonder where that is."

Connie probably gave him a non-verbal response since there was just silence after that. Jean got you up the stairs and struggled with your bedroom door but he got in within ten minutes. Jean turns on your lights, places you on the bed, and removes your shoes. He steps away but you hear ripping sounds proceeding by scribbling. You can hear Jean turning off your lights and closing the door behind him as he leaves. Your eyes flick open and you wait a few moments. You turn on the light on your bed stand to see the note Jean wrote you.

'Wasn't sure what to do with your clothes. It's not my place to decide that- at least not yet. But I hope you slept comfortably.'

You smile softly at the note. It was definitely something he would say.

i use YOUR opinions to not only put together dates but to put together personalities. if y’all say you hate bertholdt, i’ll work my magic to mess with y’all :) anyways here’s the link! ask good questions. this is the last time you’ll see bertholdt, jean, OR connie. vote and ask wisely

[knowledgequeenabc]

you belong to me, my snow white queen, there’s nowhere to run

I’ve been so dead inside I never posted my NNQ fics but, happy belated tenth, Ninjago! the fandom has been wonderful and I’ve made so many friends, seen so much beautiful work, made it through so much because of this silly little plastic ninja show. <3 This fic’s title comes from “Snow White Queen” by Evanescence (yeah I know don’t @ me), if you wanna. set the mood for this one. We’re gonna be following Nya after Skybound for a bit and it won’t be pretty.

Nya remembers it all.

It never happened, of course. That was the condition of Jay’s last wish: that none of it had ever happened in the first place. 

Yet she remembers.

It’s good that she does, honestly. She’ll recognize the threat if it ever presents itself again. Plus, the others don’t remember, so they can’t worry themselves about it.

Jay wanted to tell them. “No more secrets,” he said. She’s proud of him, she really is, at least he’s learned from dragging them through hell and back …

But she can’t do it.

She remembers Jay’s eyes, glinting bright and worried in a dim room, as he asks if she’s sure about this; Nya remembers her voice hardening to keep vulnerability from bleeding through as she nods. She’s well aware it’s unwise to keep a secret this heavy, thank you, but they’re both heart-wrenchingly familiar with secrets. What’s one more?

Getting angry at Jay for keeping secrets and then turning around and asking to keep this one … it’s hypocritical. She sees the recognition of the fact in his eyes, but there’s understanding mixed with it; it’s his secret, too. It’s their burden to shoulder behind closed doors, afraid to face their family. After losing Zane and getting him back, after Chen and Garmadon, after Morro, peace feels fraught, like walking a tightrope over another storm. How would the others react to knowing they’d broken again? She doesn’t want to deal with the answer to that question.

So Nya does what she does best. She squares her shoulders and marches through each day, reminding herself with each skip of her heart, each flash of her life before her eyes, each time the world blurs that it’s over now. It spits in the face of every lesson life’s beaten into her bones, reverting to stubbornness and pride and the kind of independence that would rather see her amputate an injured limb than get help for it, but it’s a twisted kind of easier to wrestle her pain in silence. The sky pirates made it clear that she needs to stop being afraid to rely on her team, and with a distant sense of guilt it occurs to her that applies to her emotions about this situation, too, but ...

But that fight’s over. And Nya honestly wants nothing more than to take the lesson to heart and put the rest behind her. Let sleeping dogs lie, and all.

Slight problem with that plan: she’s beginning to get the feeling they don’t want to stay asleep. Nya’s good at compartmentalizing, and has been ever since she was an orphan child balancing school and keeping the forge afloat, but the neat dividers are starting to give.

All she can do is watch as the cracks spider out like the Tiger Widow’s web.

~~~~

Lloyd sits on the edge of the ship’s deck at night, sometimes.

Who knows what he’s thinking. Nya knows her little brother would rather sort through his feelings behind curtains, and they’re all working on helping him open up, but sometimes there’s nothing to do but be there with someone while they watch the world turn.

Tonight, thoughts zipping through her head with manic intensity and no distraction to stop them, she joins him, letting her legs hang over the edge of the Bounty. He acknowledges her with a smile and inches closer, then turns back to face the clouds, eyes searching the scene like there’s a cosmic answer somewhere in the moonlight poking through the blanket of grey. The sky roils in dark, angry sheets, air thick enough to slice with a knife. Nya remembers another storm out at churning sea, splinters from a shipwreck, a missing friend and her bubbling fury in the aftermath, and shudders.

Lloyd doesn’t speak, but he’s gripping a photo of his father with white knuckles and a pinched face. And she understands.

Never once has Lloyd gotten to choose his path. His only crime was wanting Garmadon in his life, and the gift he received in return for it was becoming fated to finish his father off, once, then twice. It’s a painful game, to be destiny’s plaything.

Self-centered as it is, Nya wants to think she gets it. Rarely does she get to choose, either. Being folded into the fate of Ninjago via kidnapping from blacksmith shop had been exciting until she was relegated to damsel in distress and left on the wayside. Then when she’d forged her own path as Samurai X, she had to give it up and be the water ninja instead. Water ninja. Kai’s sister. Jay’s love interest. The girl. Nadakhan’s prize.

Never a thought for what Nya wants to be. Just roles and labels to live up to whether she likes it or not, forced upon her like a wedding dress sewn for someone else.

And the one choice she could make ended up …

Her chest tightens until she’s dizzy.

Once the world sharpens back into focus, Nya casts Lloyd a sympathetic glance and quietly traces the feathery outlines of the clouds with her eyes. It’s a good night for commiserating, and she’s not feeling talkative, either.

She wonders what she is now, and her throat tightens.

~~~~

Nya catches, out of the corner of her eye, the breathless headline on the tabloid lining the rack at the grocery store—“DEVASTATING FACTS ABOUT THE GIRL NINJA!!” —and bites back the urge to scream herself hoarse.

The public eye is an unforgiving one, she knows that, she’s long since resigned herself to it. But sometimes it grates, the way everyone seems to presume they can weigh in on Nya.

The people out there don’t know anything about her.  All they care about is that she’s the girl, and there’s drama behind her they can gobble up like starved mutts.

She doesn’t let on about it much, because being imperfect is kind of one of her worst nightmares, but she knows she’s made mistakes in the past. She was prideful, even haughty. She strung Jay and Cole along for way too long because the attention got to her head, and the paparazzi will never let her forget it. Nya should have been the bigger person and cut it short, instead of letting Cole keep going with it because he was mad Jay didn’t trust him, or letting Jay’s jealousy fester as long as it did. Bit late for that, though.

It’s hardly like her faults stop there. Being hunted by Nadakhan and upset by Jay’s refusal to understand her “no” meant no, on top of the fact that her independence would only ever be conditional sinking in from becoming the water ninja … it was a perfect storm of stress, and it made her nasty. Jay keeping secrets and endangering them all was the last straw. She blew up, lashed out, furious that she couldn’t trust anything to go right.

She still regrets it. The bruises on his skin after his rescue are still imprinted on her eyelids when she wakes up, sometimes.

So she’s not perfect, by a long shot. But …

(Greedy eyes following her every movement, wanting her as she runs. Blinking to find another family member gone. Fighting for her life as the pirates capture her. Being wrestled into someone else’s gown. Pushing desperately against Dilara’s spirit snatching away her autonomy. Venom seeping into her gown, frigid then BURNING, the ability to think slipping—)

Nya loosens the death grip she has on her basket. Takes a deep breath in, then out.

They don’t know anything about her. Tabloids and TV hosts and publicists can gossip all they want about Nya’s mistakes; they’ll never convince her she deserved to die for them.

~~~~

Kai is many things, and stupid is definitely one of them, sometimes. But he isn’t stupid when it comes to how Nya’s doing, and she knows this. If anything, she’s the idiot for thinking she could keep herself under wraps from him for long. Kai must have noticed the tough veneer she’s painted over herself, and how secretive she’s being with them, because Kai knows she doesn’t like to be open about feeling unwell, and Nya knows that it worries him.

Ironically enough, that worry is why she knows she can’t ever tell Kai what happened. Ever since she revealed herself as Samurai X, he’d learned not to hover, and Nya’s endlessly grateful that he’s understanding enough to trust in her strength. Nowadays, Kai’s concern manifests in significant glances, questioning hands on her shoulder, hugs a little tighter and lingering longer than normal, discreetly asking if there’s anything she wants to tell him.

He’s taken to all that behavior in hyperdrive, of course, because there is no way Nya’s snippiness and constant tension and nights in the kitchen making tea after nightmares slipped his notice.

But that’s fine. Nya would rather deal with the quiet apprehension radiating off him now than the full-blown panic she’s bound to have on her hands if Kai ever found out that she’d lost her life and he’d been helpless to do anything but watch.

She has an idea what it’ll look like, too. He’d taken Lloyd’s possession hard enough—Nya had caught him pummeling punching bags in the training room until his knuckles bled, noticed the heaviness in his eyes when he looked at their little brother, or at Cole, and no matter how much she insisted that he hadn’t failed, Kai refused to let himself believe it. Uttering a word about the Sky Pirates to her older brother, Kai who had practically raised them both, Kai who had only ever become a ninja to save her, Kai who had blamed himself so ruthlessly for Zane and Lloyd and Cole?

It would break him.

She just can’t do that to him. She’ll stitch her lips shut if that’s what it takes to make sure he never finds out.

So when Kai fixes them both mugs of chamomile tea at 2 in the morning, and casually remarks on the strange amount of repairs she’s been doing on the perfectly intact Bounty, Nya just smiles tiredly at him and fires off some sarcastic retort that’s sure to rile him up.

She loves her older brother, which is why she made the decision to take this secret to her grave.

~~~~

Nya notices while brushing her hair, one day, that she’s neglected to pay attention to it; the sleek black strands are almost to her shoulder, rather than brushing against her chin like she’s used to. Once she’s teased out every last snarl, she goes to cut her hair, but hesitates right before the scissors snip.

When she looks in the mirror, sometimes it’s Dilara’s face flashing before her eyes, not her own. She has to look for the minutiae, the details that count, like the flinty sharpness in her own eyes, the scar near her chin, the odd mark forming on her cheek, obsessively contrasting them to wide, sweet eyes on a deceptively cherubic face.

Nya wishes—no, not wishes, look where wishing had gotten them all—that Nadakhan had cared to see the differences. Maybe that way, she wouldn’t have felt the eyes on her back, always following her, waiting for her to fall into his grasp. Maybe she could have avoided the desperate game of cat-and-mouse. And just maybe, she wouldn’t have been grappled into a suffocating gown, or had her agency ripped from her as Dilara took her face, or died—

Right, that had happened. How Cole and Zane go about their days knowing they’ve walked through the doors of death, she can't begin to fathom. Nya wonders when she’ll stop feeling like she has to hide in her own home from eyes that are no longer watching, wonders when she’ll stop feeling the white-hot burn of venom leaching into her blood, and it’s Dilara’s face that brought it upon her.

Nya sets the scissors down, and tries not to flinch at the way they klink against the counter. She doesn’t want Dilara’s face anymore.

Maybe she’ll let it grow out.

~~~~~

It wasn’t even that rough of a touch, Nya despairs later. Cole, even in spars, always knew his strength, and he barely glanced her sternum with a ghostly hand as she knocked him off balance.

Apparently, on a bad day, that chilly touch was enough to send the phantom shock of Tiger Widow venom racing through her system; Nya forgot how to breathe for a second, and the next she broke her stance and pushed. Already off-kilter, Cole stumbled, his back hitting the ground with a heavy thud. In the instant before the others could be alarmed, they locked eyes, concerned meeting terrified. She forced her voice to stay even as she said, “I think that’s enough training for today.” Then she ran.

Now, here she is, her door slammed shut and locked, and her back’s pressed against it as she tries to remember what it feels like not to buzz like an entire hornet’s nest. She’s fine, she repeats to herself. The mantra is soothing simply in its repetitiveness; it gets her mind off of the sensation that won’t leave her alone ever since she lived it. She’s fine, she’s alive, and she’s not losing her grip on consciousness because all her organs are shutting down. Nya is fine, not actually feeling the venom seep into her skin through the coarse fabric of the wedding dress, cold for just a millisecond before erupting into white-hot pain across her skin. If her vision is off, it’s because of the tears welling up despite her stubborn efforts to blink them away, not the spots that danced across her world as Flintlocke’s fatal accident slowly claimed her life-

Her breath catches in a sob. Nya furiously muffles it behind her hand.

It didn’t even happen. She’s been through so much, she’s been in danger so many times, and this is the one that sticks? So it killed her, yeah, admittedly that’s a big step above the other times, but it hadn’t happened to anyone else except her, and Jay, and she can’t, won’t, make those words leave her lips. Every other problem in her life, she’d risen above, she’d fixed and wrestled back into her control, and then she’d gotten to square her shoulders and quip to the boys how easy it had been.

How does she fix something that’s only broken in her memories?

~~~~~

Nya remembers it all.

She almost wishes she didn’t.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Into The Casino Ch14

(Disclaimer: The two songs Hey Pachuco and Sway and the lyrics sung are in NO way mine or my property. They all belong to their rightful owners: One being from the soundtrack from the movie The Mask, and the other performed by Pablo Beltrán Ruiz BUT for this I used the glee version of Sway performed by the glee cast. I used them just for the characters to dance and sing to, the dances performed also have no name and I just made them up but some were inspired by movies. I own NOTHING!! Thanks for reading. If you wanna get a good idea for the first swing dance, watch the dancing part from The Mask at the Cocobongo.) True to Disease's words, he kept a much closer eye on the sulking unicorn for the rest of their stay there. Which wasn't too long. He ate and talked a little more with this Dolly person, but he still snapped his head to her every five to ten minutes and she still sat there. Looking disappointed and bored, but he seemed happy with that. You wouldn't imagine her relief when he finally decided it would be the best time to leave and they were finally able to go home. Lou was..very delighted to see them back home, smile wide and gave an expected look to Disease once Cyber lead the sad looking gal away.

"Well? You didn't let any 'mishaps' happen did you?" Those red eyes narrowed. Disease just waved a hand. "Psh. You kidding me? She didn't find out anything she wanted. Asssk her yourself if ya don't believe me." And he did, but in a casual way not wanting to seem suspicious. Asking questions like: So how was your trip? Was Disease acting in a rude manner? Did anyone touch her?...Did she get to speak with Rita and was the conversation to her liking? She just answered no to most. Always keeping ears back and avoiding eye contact, which he was pretty suspicious of. But he didn't push it too hard. She wasn't acting too different from when they left and she still aloud him near and gave him the same treatment as before, but he still couldn't be too sure. So he asked the question, would you want to go back? And her answer was exactly what he wanted to hear. "...No. It's too loud and reeks of bad choices. I'd rather not get anymore headaches." His smile couldn't have been any bigger and happier. Almost all suspicions thrown out the window...almost. But he could deal with them later. He had more important things to think about, like if he wanted his future garden to have one section of red roses and another for mixed colored roses, or if she should just mix all the different rose bushes together into one multicolored section. My, my the choices were plentiful. But thanks to her little plan, he was on higher alert, he unfortunately couldn't spare Cyber very often, so it was up to Disease to keep an eye on her, and fortunately he didn't object...But it was starting to become obviously suspicious to her when she found him peeping into her doorknobs keyhole, and the next day he had found a wad of gum shoved into it....Dammit Disease! But it was obvious she was al least behaving. But time flies fast when you were doing the same boring routine was it not? So she couldn't really have been surprised one day when Lou of course delivered the same list of usual things to do but asked the question, "By chance, do you know ballroom dancing?" Her purple eyes blinked up at him in surprise as she slowly took the list from him. "Um..Y-Yes? I-It was one of the things my tutor insisted I learn, b-but I haven't done it in years." The taller demon hummed, bringing a hand to his chin. Well this wouldn't do. Not at all, which was exactly why he told her to drop by his main office first thing next morning, he'd have a surprise for her. She only rose a brow in confusion when the plant demon happily walked away from her and down the hallway. Most likely to greet more guests or whatever he did when she wasn't looking-...Unknownst to her, he was meeting Cyber in the back. Meeting with the slug from a few days ago. The back alleys were perfect for this sort of thing. Narrow enough so no one could ambush them, but just the perfect size to dispose of him if things went sour. The man was there alright. With an armful of something wrapped in an old dirty cloth, looked quite old. Once those red eyes hit him the man simply...Dumped them. Literally. The man threw the things to his and Cyber's feet without a care in the world and crossed his arms. ..Lou's smile wavering. He's had some rude dealers before but this man was as patient as a hellhound starving for nearly a month, he almost didn't make a deal with him because of how rude and ungrateful he was. It took everything he had to NOT feed him to his plants or have Cyber cut him down into little pieces, because at the time he was already feeling anxious and annoyed at the situation his little pet decided to put him through, but he held it up pretty well- A small clanging noise brought him back when Cyber nudged the wrapped up things with her foot. It felt hard and with the same foot, she caught the edge of the tarp on it and kicked it off. What was inside...was not what they were expecting. Angelic spears absolutely. But these ones...They looked rather old and worn. Rust creeping up on some of them. Lou rose a brow and gave the man a look. "...Really?" He shrugged. "I never said they were in completely perfect condition. I only said they've worked for as long as I've used them, which was quite a lot. Now do you want them or not?" Lou almost gave a growl but instead calmly looked to Cyber who by then was kneeling down and giving the things a calculating look....One of her hands reached down slowly to poke one of the blade tips. A small burning sound was instant when her fingertip touched one of the dull blades and as a result she instantly pulled back and peered up at him. A wide smile spreading over his features. Perfect. Well almost perfect, but he was sure Midnight could polish these things back to normal. A small price to pay for any angelic weapons he could get his hands on..and speaking of pay. The man was standing there obviously expecting something in return. So with a chuckle Lou reached behind his back and pulled out what he wanted, a small jar full of small round orbs. Lou tossed it to the demon who snatched it and grin that disgusting grin at him. "Pleaser doing business with ya." "Yes, yes. Please leave the premise immediately." Lou narrowed his eyes just as the man turned and began leaving..snapping his fingers, a small green vine came out of the back doorway he was standing in and wrapped itself around the weapons in question, bringing them inside before Lou turned to Cyber. "..Recollect those souls will you? I'm needed back on the floor before someone suspects something." He nodded and began off after the man in the same direction. "And do be quick about it. I wouldn't anyone 'specific' noticing." ****************************************************************************************************** Soon enough the day had come to a close and the familiar jar of souls was sitting on top of his desk as he hummed and happily signed away at a few papers, except maybe a new soul had been added to the collection. Cyber did an excellent job as always, but he couldn't care less about the souls for the moment. Right now he had someone on their way and he was dying to get started on the practice he wanted to do, all he needed was the lucky young lady. A few knocks at the door and a nervous shuffling had gotten his attention. The jar of orbs was easily hidden back into a desk drawer and papers were neatly shuffled in his hands. "Come in, Dear." The door slowly opened and much to his delight, purple eyes blinked back to him in confusion. He geatured to the chair in front of him and she slowly walked in. The door closing with a click behind her. Once her body sat down in the chair he chuckled. "Now. You're probably wondering why you're hear, yes?" She nodded yes. She really was. She didn't think she did anything wrong. The list of chores was always done, the paperwork always organized, and other than yelling at Disease when her eye caught him staring at her, she hadn't done anything wrong or acted in any rude manner. So another thought reached her mind, had he or Disease found out about her meeting with Charles?! Was she in trouble!? Was he gonna throw her out!? ..Or worse?! The guilt knotted up and twisted in her stomach and kept her from saying or doing anything else for the rest of yesterday and didn't let her get a good night's sleep. It took all the nerves she had to not stay under her covers, and maybe because Cyber forced her out, and to never knock let alone come in. But he didn't look mad at all, if anything he looked genuinely happy as he stood up. "As I am aware you're not exactly up to speed with dancing yes?" She nodded as he walked around to her seat with a smile. "Well, we can't have you rusty, as I do intend to have a grand time there, and as a man who appreciates the fine arts, I couldn't just stand by and watch you flail around like Disease on alcohol? No, no." He smile leaned down and his hand quickly went to grab hers. "Which is why you and me are going to practice dancing of course." She didn't know whether to be suddenly more releived or suddenly more horrified. Her? Him? Dancing?! Together?! Her mouth dropping slightly opened and he chuckled, only snapping back to it when he pulled her to her feet. "I-I-...You-..Me-..W-WHAT?!" "You heard me, and I won't take no as an answer." Her stunned body was pulled along as he walked her to the door. Big smile on his face. The nervous feeling in her stomach came back ten times as hard as the sudden seriousness of the situation hit her. He was serious about her dancing, and she hadn't even danced in....What? fifty, sixty years?! But he didn't seem to notice her rising fears as he opened the door and walked her out. She was lead down the hall and up to the another larger part of the building she hadn't been down before, not that she wouldn't have explored if Disease was always on her tail. But she blinked when the doors they passed became slightly bigger and the hallway widened slightly, they were too big to have bedrooms or normal bedrooms. Perhaps one of these was Midnight's lab? Sensing her curiousity he chuckled. "These are places I usually host gatherings or are for my personal entertainment. You'll see soon. Now let's see." He hummed eyeing the doors to the left of the hallway, his free hand reaching up hovering in the air as they passed, and his brow raising. Until he finally stopped her. "Ah! Here we are!" "H-Here where?" He chuckled and let go of her. Not answering as he grabbed both doors and pushed them open. Bright lights overhead lit up and what they shown was an absolute marvel. Polished wooden floors different from the rest of the casino shined up at their owner as he walked along them, almost showing his reflection in the pale tan wood. The walls were just as pretty as the floor she noticed when she leaned her head in, beautiful wall paper showed a painted on scenes of a walk in garden. For all she new perhaps they were famous gardens on the living world long forgotten. A large crystal chandelier was connected to the ceiling but this one was much smaller and styled differently than the giant ones in the casino and lobby. She blinked and looked around. To the far left side was ..Well she guessed it must've been what Cyber told her was a jukebox, it didn't look old though. In fact this jukebox looked as if someone tuned it up to look more advanced, and next to it was something she definitely something she recognized. A record player! It's tuba like horn attatched to it's table body and crack lever were undyeable and so was the giant shelf of records next to them. They must've been for the jukebox and record players. She tilted her head and only looked back to Lou when she heard his footsteps walking somewhere. She blinked and watched curiously as he started towards the two music making machines she was staring at. Tail swishing behind him as his eyes immediately scanned some of the selections all the while humming. Red talons glazing across the thin black disks before stopping and pulling one plain looking record out from one of the middle shelves. "Well? Come in and we shall get started," he motioned for her to come in with one hand as he made his way to the record player. She..reluctantly did as he carefully placed the round disk onto the machine and using his other arm, carefully reached over and began cranking the lever to wind the music box she blinked as the small needle was placed onto the record that had started spinning and a weird tuba noise came out of the giant horn before the small beginnings of violins and a flute made their debut out of it. And she blinked...This just wasn't ballroom music. It was a waltz. And Lou gave a content sigh as he took off his hat, throwing it ontop of the shelf before turning to her. "Now. Why don't we begin with a few simple steps?" Her eyes widened. "W-Wait. N-Now!? B-But I haven't-" "Shush. I told you Im not taking a no to this. If it helps, Just think of this as a small assignment to help ME instead of you practicing. It might help if you pretend you're not." He made a grab for her waist- Which resulted in her flinching and jumping a few feet away. Both pausing and staring at each other for a few moments before he sighed. Reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "....Look. I completely understand your ...unease with me physically connecting with you, but it would mean a great deal to me if you would participate. ....After all. You DID say you would make it up to me for allowing you visitation to Rita's. And I never forget a promise." Her ears went back in guilt. Oh...Right. She did say that didn't she? So this time when he approached her again she didn't move. Slowly he reached a hand out and she allowed one hand on her hip and one to hold her hand in the typical dancing position, but he felt her tense under his grip for sure...Shakily lifting her hand up..moving it to his shoulder- She flinched slightly when he moved his shoulder closer to make contact with her hand...Ok. She could do this. It was just the two of them, in a close position that she hasn't been in in years and those red eyes and smile was just a couple inches away from her now...She gulped down the lump in her throat- "Who taught you how to dance in the first place?" She flinched and blinked up at him. She just calmly stared and his smile...wasn't like the wide smiles he always gave, instead it was smaller. Still there but it looked genuine. And he looked completely serious and interested in that question. "..U-Uh...M-My old t-tutor and her son did. T-They were very kind to me." He hummed. "Were you nervous then as well?" "Y-Yes. But they always made it fun." "Then why don't you pretend that moment's happening all over again." Her eyes blinked up at him. "Remember the beautiful times. Let it all come back. Can you do that?" She hesitated..But with a big inhale she slowly nodded. "Good." He tilted his head behind him as the music sounded like it would be coming to a close. And he shifted his hold on her, she lightly flinched again but he rolled his eyes. "Oh, relax. Im not going to bite, just follow my lead and you'll be swinging across the floor my dear.~...Just relax." She took in a big intake of air before letting it out, just as the final few violin and drum notes faded from the air. A couple more seconds wnt by before the record playing began repeating the music from the still spinning disk. True to his word. Lou gently began to push her and she also froze up then and there not used to having someone so close direct her body's movements but luckily she didn't trip on herself and forced her hooves to move along with him. Stiffly at first, but her mind forced herself to relax in his hold. Remember her. Remember giggling as a child. Remember the fun you had without your father scolding you for unlady like behavior...Remember the fun. To Lou's slight surprise and the easeness of his own body, she slowly began to relax within his hold. Making it easier for him to guide her and ease her steps. And soon the two of them were stepping in graceful circles across the floor, with her occasionally looking at their feet. It was when he started to lean and dip and little more in their swings when she lightly tensed up again but soon forcefully relaxed herself again. Until he attempted to spin her around, she reacted by giving a yelp and falling onto her knees on the first spin. She froze for a few seconds as the music still played and gave a sigh, giving a small jump when he placed a hand onto her shoulder and gave a smile. "I must say. For someone who hasn't danced for quite a while you did better than I expected." He grabbed her arm gently and lifted her back to her feet. Before repositioning themselves back into the same dancing stance. "Now. Once more from the top. And keep in mind that spins and swings are a part of waltzing, Darling. As are dips, but we'll work on just swaying and spinning for now. Your footwork while clumsy is more graceful than you give credit for." She blinked. Was he- Did he just compliment her or criticize her? Either way it didn't stop them from repeating the same steps as before when the music again restarted. "Remember. Relax. Trust in yourself." She kinda lost track of the amount of times they restarted after the third time, but he seemed genuinely happy to be swinging and reteaching her through the steps almost long forgotten. By the time of their fifteen( yes. HE had been keeping count of exactly how many times she messed up, he couldn't help it. It was in his nature to calculate his partner's moves. Especially after that small surprise she pulled.) restart. It seemed some of those memories were starting to come back as her steps started to become easier and she started to not tense up as much as say two hours ago, but she looked tired. So after he dipped her one last time, with her clutching onto his shoulders before he pulled her back up, he let go of her. She blinked as he reached out to straighten himself giving a snap of his red talons. "You dance devine my dear. But for now we're done." A green vine came out of nowhere wrapped around his top hat, which he graciously took before planting it back on top his head. "But you still need much more practice. I'll let you have the rest of the day off, but prepare yourself for tomorrow. We have less than three weeks, and I intend of making the most of that time." True to his word. Lou kept that promise. The very next day it was right back to it after she got something in her stomach. And again the same results. She still tensed under his hold and still messed up a few steps, once or twice stepping on his foot or god forbid his tail. He barely flinched when this happened but his brow did raise whenever it happened. Which did no good to her because all it did was make her very nervous and thus mess up more. By the fourth day of this he took her aside and tired something different, just swaying in graceful circles without spins or dips, which was much more better but he still felt her body tense and sometimes slightly shaking under him, which he was starting to find unpleasant but not annoying-....Yet. He prided himself on his skills and despite his doubts the two had gained a few steps but not much...Until he talked to Cyber about it all. But all she could offer was a shrug as she watched him shift through papers and stuff on his desk. 'I'll try talkin' to her about it later' was her response and if anyone could figure it out it was Cyber. So he left it in her hands. In the meantime between regular business and 'trying' to get the pony on her feet, he made regular trips to Midnight's lab to see if he could get progress on her fixing up those weapons....It was...Hard for her to do. She had to wear some kind of makeshift mask and gloves to keep any part of the sacred blades from burning or cutting her, and was trying to use any kind of polish and whatever she came up with to restore them to their once perfect state. Slow progress but they were getting there. ...Couldn't say the same for the dancing. Still as stiff and unprogressive as ever. To his dismay. And it was slowly until he noticed a whole week of nothing but barely any progress had passed and he pestered Cyber again for some kind of answer. She looked at him for a couple seconds before shrugging. "Well, whaddya expect? She doesn't like anyone touching her, you make her feel pressured, and she probably suppressed those memories after being chained who knows where for who knows how long. Instead of trying to force her to relax, why not find something about the subject that appeals to her?" It was like a lightbulb had went off in his head. And he smiled. OF COURSE!! Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?! Cyber was definitely a genius at times, and a smile reappeared on his face. So the very next day when she showed up for probably the eighth day, he was grinning ear to ear with a grin of his face compared to her sad and tired look. "Amalfia, my dear. Tell me, what music and dance do you really enjoy?" He asked once he started leading her off again and she blinked surprised at his strange question. Before shaking her head. "It's stupid, and really unlady like-" "Oh hush." He waved his hand. "I don't care if it's square dancing like drunken hill billys. If you enjoy it I want to know what you like. I want to get to know you better." Her eyes blinked surprised up to his face..but she again shook her head. "It's stupid like I said....But I r-really like s-swing?" He blinked back..and laughed, her head tilted curiously at him before his grin became more excited. "My dear little flower.~ You are speaking to someone who has basically mastered that art.~" To his delight. Her eyes lit up. "You..Y-You like swing?" He nodded and a small smile came to her. "And jazz?" He chuckled and nodded again. Delighted to get her attention and a smile on that little face of hers. Those purple eyes lit up like a darn holiday tree. "D-Do you..do you dance to it?" He stopped. Giving her an even bigger smile at the meer question. "My dear." His hand came to settle himself on the door. "I just said I mastered that art. But knowing you also enjoy it..heh. Well we know what we're doing today!" With a push both doors opened and he lead her over to the shelf, when he still tugged onto her arm and she blinked in surprise when he happily gestured to the swing labeled section."You may pick any you like?" "R-Really?," she gaped excitedly. "Yes, but in return. I expect to be able to dance with you to it. No buts. I enjoy a good dance with my dear lady. Deal?" She hesitated. Her father forbad her to even touch another record after he learnt about her tutor teaching her this 'new aged degenerate crap' as he put it and she only ever danced to it with her now most likely deceased friend. ....But your dad's not here a voice whispered. That smile appeared back to her face a bit. She..still had to let him hold her hand but..with swing..most of the moves required barely any contact beyond that. That thought accompanied by the feeling of the swinging jazz bands just a finger tip away...She happily turned to him and nodded yes to his request. In turn he smiled and gestured a hand to the shelf. She didn't hesitate to start looking at the records he presented to her. He patiently waited as she pulled one or two out, glanced over the titles of the songs written on them, before placing them back into place....Eventually she pulled one out near the end if the shelf, flipping it over in her hands, and turned back to look at him. His raised a brow. "Find something you like?" She gave it a nervous look over before handing it to him. He took it and read over the title: Hey Pachuco. With a smile he looked back to her in question. "Are you quite sure? This is fast paced and with your footwork being a bit...out of touch, I wouldn't want you hurting yourself." ...With a slow inhale and exhale, she nodded. "I-I..want to try again. And this time..I wanna do it for myself." He hummed and looked back to it for just a moment. "...Alright just get onto the floor, and don't be surprised by what we're about to do." She nodded and made her way to about the middle of the floor, just as he put the said recording in and began winding the lever up again, he seemed almost excited as he carefully put the needle on and tossed his hat away. Wouldn't be needing that with what he was about to do. The thing coughed a bit of static as he made a few steps before pausing a little ways away from her. She tilted her head when he didn't come any closer but paused when the sound of drums came a beating out and her ears immediately perked at the familiar sound. Lou however was already tapping his feet to the beat of those drums, when they started getting faster he finally bounced a few steps towards her before suddenly sliding and grabbing onto her. Dipping her just as trumpets blasted out of the drum beats. Which caught her completely off guard and making it easy for him to perform the next moves as the song sung out of the thing. When he suddenly brought her back up, one arm around her and one grabbing her arm, and in a tango like motion rocked them from side to side. Her brain still hadn't quite caught up yet and so it was easy for him to just suddenly push her away from him next time all the trumpets sounded at once, before pulling her and ducking under her arm so she was pushed away from him again- Only to have her unsuspecting self be pulled back into his embrace, and be given a small spin. She blinked, brain finally catching up a little but only enough to notice his actual...genuine happy smile- Only for him to expertly pull her back to him with a spin so her back was facing him, and she was made to do an actually cartwheel- Fear spiked in her as she was about to crash into the floor on her side, but that was swiftly dashed when she was again grabbed and half dragged half spun against the floor twice in a circle before being pulled up fast and spun out to where she managed to stay on her legs and finally give a look to him. His body still bouncing to the beat of the drums and trumpets as he gave her a half lidded look..Clearly saying: 'Well? Are you going to pick up the slack?' ..And she was quick to respond with a ...smug smile of her own. Oh! That made something in him feel only slightly challenged. So it was no surprise when the singer of the band finally started playing when he made another slide grab for her- Only for her to completely duck under him and grab his shoulder, turning him around just as the first 'HEY!' from the chorus shouted, he didn't seemed fazed at all as he grabbed her hand and the two came to a tap dance of sorts. Her almost perfectly mimicking him and him raising a brow at her attempts to catch up. The game was on! He brought her into a few more spins and she unexpectedly dodged some of his grabs at her and did some twirls of her own. Until he finally managed to grab her and to her surprise lift her almost onto his shoulder, making her spin in mid air before catching her and pushing her arm's length away again. This time when she was pulled back and made to do another cartwheel however- He caught her mid flip back into her feet and with strength she didn't know he had, he actually hoisted above him in the air. And spun around a few times as he pivoted on his heel, only for her to then be twisted around his body and pulled back up into a standing position. Spun out from him and shakily spin back onto her feet as a drum solo started up. As they beat, she took the moment to push her blonde and white hair from her face and look towards the still slightly bouncing and smiling demon. "...Well? Is that the best you can do?" He held out a hand to her. Fangs flashing. "Impress me!!" She smirked back. A look he hadn't seen on her but was quite interested to see! As her body suddenly began to bounce on it's own from his. And she did. When the trumpets came back, she slide right toward her and she ducked- But this time immediately popped back up and grabbed him. He was slightly surpised when HER of all people spun him back around and grabbed his hand and pulled. He spun out a little bit but immediately regained composure, quickly turning and grabbing her when she slid towards him. Lifting her up and then next to him. As if having the same thoughts, the mirrored the same in place movements with their arms and legs before both spinning, Lou's hand suddenly grabbing her's and taking her for multiple spins around himself. Before stopping and dipping her- Only to suddenly be thrown in the air twirling who knows how many time before falling back into his arms. Twisted around before making a final stop when he was- Oh gosh. Holding her bridal style and dipping her enough to where their faces were inches apart. Making her freeze. Just as the last few notes finally blasted out. Silence rang out as the two of them stared at each other. Her heart was hammering in her ears and her lungs taking quick breaths from her lungs..But him. he just grinned that half lidded studying grin at her...before slowly sitting himself back up and gently placing her back down. Her hooves met the ground with a small tapping sound and she felt wobbly. Smiling plastered on her face and her hand coming to clutch her chest. Lou was also breathing a bit faster from the rush, but was more calm and straightened himself out. until he heard a snort. He rose a brow to her and to his surprise another snort escaped her, and she covered her mouth...Before her eyes closed and a roar of happy laughter escaped her lungs. He stood there for a long moment...Before smiling back triumphantly at her once she finally got ahold of herself enough to look at her. Her face was twisted in a joyous shade of light pink and her eyes twinkled in a way he hadn't seen her do before now. "...Y-Y-You weren't kidding when you said you were a m-m-master at it." Her lungs heaved ad her arms clutched her stomach. " T-That was the most f-fun I've ever had down here!!" With that he gave a chuckle and gave a glance to his red talons. "But of course.~ I wouldn't lie about my skills.~ And if you enjoyed my dancing you should hear me sing-" "You-....You sing?" Her head was tilted at him curiously like a puppy before another smile graced her face. "M-May I see?" He stared at her a moment before humming, hand coming up to tap his chin. "Hm. I suppose so, but if I'm gonna work, then I expect another dance out of you. It's only fair." She happily nodded in agreement to his deal and he hummed in delight. After all, if he was going to sing for her then it was only fair she danced for him. The upbeat swing music was already starting to replay itself on the still spinning machine and the upbeat drums from before began drumming out, until Lou walked over to the record player and pulled the needle back up, effectively stopping the music with a record stopping sound. The machine seemed to stop moving as soon as the plant demon removed the needle. Before, with record delicately in hands, turned back to the shelf humming to himself and carefully slid the large black disk into it's proper place. Amalfia watched curiously as his eyes scanned the piles of records, until shifting back to the swing section.....His red finger pulled one record out near the front, and he curiously peered at the name written on it. It read: Sway. And he made a small 'mm-hm', before turning and placing it onto the machine. The lever cranked just as usually before he turned and with a few long strides made it to her. But unlike the few times before he rose a brow curiously..before giving a bow. She blinked a little caught off guard before catching up and giving a slight curtsy back- Before he pulled her into his form and into the same ballroom style stance as before. She still flinched under his touch, but too his utter delight, her body didn't tense up and she still had that goofball smile on her face. He chuckled as the music finally started up and it was a cha-cha like music with trumpets and at least one violin and cowbell. And he started by leading her across the floor and slightly rocking back and forth, before giving her a spin or two that she DIDN'T fall from this time and was pulled back against him as the music paused for one brief moment- "When marimba rythms start to play dance with me, make me sway.~" When he said 'sway' he really did sway her, but with a half dip so her body came back up and back into standing position and he moved her across the floor in graceful circles again. "Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore.~ Hold me close. Sway me more.~" Again the same half dip sway as he pulled her out arm's length- "Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me.~" He quickly pulled her back in with a full dip before pushing her back up with the next sentence. "Sway with ease.~" She. Was....Surprised. Yes. She heard quite a few big names and random men sing, and their voices were just lovely. But Lou's- Maybe it was just the way the walls were echoing his voice or the music accompanying it. Or maybe it was just not hearing anyone sing in the longest time...But coming from a demon with red eyes- His voice was absolutely heavenly, velvety smooth, and it was CLEAR this wasn't his first time singing like this. It had only been a few sentences but he acted like this was everyday living, his posture calm, and not showing the slightest ounce of unease. "When we dance, you have a way with me, stay with me.~'' He brought her back up and ran his red claws gently under her chin making her immediately turn pink as a result, before suddenly pushing her out and leading her in a circle at arm's length. "Sway with me.~ Other dancers may be on the floor. ~ Dear-" She was suddenly brought back in with a spin that put her back against him and he gave her a giant sly smirk before saying the next line. "-But my eyes will see only you.~" She was spun around again to face him with a another graceful circle. "Only you have that magic technique!~ When we sway I go weak!~" She was spun a few times as the trumpets and drums made three hard notes followed by another half second pause which ended her back facing him again. "I can hear the sounds of violins long before it begins.~" He moved from their stilled position by slowly rocking their bodies and slowly rotating them as if in a slow dance. "Make me thrill as you know how.~ Sway me smooth.~ Sway me now.~" Again that same half lidded genuine smile and her heart actually...Jumped? What? Her excitement and fun from the earlier dance, but he couldn't help but internally smirk at her clearly bedazzled eyes and pink cheeks. Oh his sweet little naïve weapon. If only you could see how cute you looked falling into your place on the puzzle. But he was true to his word, as he never turned down a good deal yet. And this one was a great deal. There was a brief pause in his singing with just the upbeat swing playing. During that time he made sure to sway her a few more times, giving the occasional spin, all with a smile on his face. But it was when he finally pulled her back in from a spin and held her against him did her face go from pink to red. "Other dancers may be on the floor.~ Dear.~ But my eyes will see only you.~" He took her for another spin on the word 'you', and kept her spinning as he sang out. "Only you got that magic technique.~ When we sway I go weak!~" The same three hard notes played out and on the last one he brought her back in yet another dip and she felt dizzy. But she wasn't sure if it was from the spinning or the way her head felt like the burning sun. "I can hear the sounds of violins-" He brought her back up into that slow dance swaying and rotating in a small circle. And they stayed like that for a while. "-long before it begins.~ Make me thrill as you know how.~ Sway me smooth.~ Sway me now.~ When marimba rythims start to play, dance with me. Make me sway.~ Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close.~ Sway me more.~" The music completely stopped for a second and so did they. She just heard the beating of her own heart, and his smile and those red eyes stared right at her. "...Like a flower bending in the breeze!~" The trumpets came back on full blast and he pulled her away from him at arm's length. His voice now much louder than before but still not rough. If anything he was putting more passion into this as she was pulled back into him into a dip. "Bend with me!~ Sway with ease!~" At 'sway' he once again swung her around in a half circle before more spinning began. "When we dance, you have a way with me!~ Stay with me!~ Sway with ease!~" At the second 'sway' she was stopped and faced him again. "WHEN THE RYTHM STARTS TO PLAAAAY!!~ HOLD ME CLOSE!!~ MAKE ME SWAAAY!!~" At 'play' he did something different when he suddenly grabbed her leg and pulled it up, making her squeak. But when he sand 'hold me close' he pressed her against him gently, before dipping her at 'sway' again. "LIKE AN OCEAN HUGS THE SHOOORE!!~ HOLD ME CLOSE!!" He brought her up still holding her against him before actually lightly picking her up and twirling her around at the next 'sway'. "SWAY ME MOOORE!! LIKE A FLOWER BENDING IN THE BREEZE!!" She was suddenly again dipped at 'bend'. "BEND WITH MEEE!~ SWAY WITH EASE!!~" At 'sway' her leg was let loose as he simaltaniously swung her back up and his now free hand grabbed onto one of hers. And he pushed her out from him again. "WHEN WE DANCE YOU GOT A WAY WITH MEEE!!~ STAY WITH ME!!~" She was pulled back and spun around. "SWAY WITH MEEEEEEE!!~" She was stopped completely and suddenly pulled back against him just as the very last note was played out. And she was left staring into those red eyes for a few silent few seconds....before he chuckled and slowly let go of her. WIthout him supporting her against him, she wobbled back onto jelly feeling legs and brought her hands up. One pushing the hair from her eyes while the other coming to cup her still warm and red cheek. He however chuckled. ....It was STILL like he hadn't even broken a sweat and simply went to straighten himself up. Humming as he straightened his bow and walked back towards the record player just as the music once again started to replay on loop. The needle was plucked from the record and then said record was removed from the spinning platform, making the machine give the same record stopping sound and completely stop working. Humming as he moved to place it back onto the shelf. Still feeling the happiness of the woman behind him. Before chuckling again. Oh how he loved it when his plans went so smoothly! Midnight doubting his plan all along, but joke's on her now. He snapped his fingers and a random vine brought down his hat as he placed it back onto his head- He froze....Something had just wrapped around him. It was just maybe for two seconds before she flinched back away but it was enough to make all thoughts and body movements stop for a complete few seconds. ...His red eyes blinked and he slowly turned around to be faced with the red faced unicorn. She gave a nervous smile before looking away. "S-S-Sorry. I-I just wanted to t-thank you for t-t-the great time. Y-You s-s-sing beautifully." He still blinked before shaking it off and smiling at the compliment. "It's quite alright my dear. No harm done." His hand came to give a few pats to her shoulder. "And Im so delighted to hear you enjoyed our little session, as did I. After all we've been trying to do that little step for a while." Her face blinked back confused and he chuckled. "Oh my dear. Did you not realize? The same dance we had just done, was the very same waltz you've been tripping over for almost a week now." ......She blinked. That was- They were- THEY SAME WALTZ!? How did she not notice that?!..She must've been too distracted to notice but again slightly jumped when he put his hat on and slung an arm around her. Still chuckling at her pink cheeks. "You did wonderful progress, just as I said you would. And I never lie. But you still need plenty of practice before the big day, but for now. Let us get back to regular work. Shall we?~"

All characters besides Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

[galaxythreads]

Suggestions on how to improve fanfic writing:

I was talking with @angelfishofthelord recently (not that recent, time is a concept that escapes our collective grasp) and I jokingly suggested that I make this post. I am in the middle of an insomnia night, so. Here be us.

Characters use the same nicknames and phrases inside their head as speaking. This doesn’t necessarily mean they’re sharing the humor they’re speaking. I.g.: For SPN, I see a lot of people write Dean as a little careless in his POVs, because that’s just how he portrays himself, but Dean, I think, while having a dark sense of humor, isn’t actually very funny in his head. Same goes for MCU and Tony Stark. Funny characters does not always equal happy head space. :)

Nicknames--this used to bother me to no end, because nicknames were never something in my family, and people shortening down the names felt wrong. But you nickname what you love. If someone has given a nickname (and not in mockery) to a character, chances are, they call them that in their head. Like in MCU Clint calling Natasha "Nat", or SPN Dean and Sam calling Cas "Cas" however, with that said, unless the nickname is self chosen, most people will use their full name when narrating. Castiel, Natasha, etc.

Headcanons! This is going to sound a little backwards, but headcanons have always helped me sort between characters. I know that some fic authors are very against headcanons, but to me, you HAVE to make these characters and their world your own, at least a little. You need to understand how their brain functions, and headcanons are a wonderful, wonderful way to do that. So long as you can conceivably fit them into canon, I think you’re good. One of the ones I have about SPN Cas is that he doesn’t actually give off body heat, so he’s constantly room temperature. It’s a detail for people that’s not Cas’s POV to notice. So getting some headcanons like that will help differentiate between POVs because it’s different things for characters to acknowledge.

Mimic writing that you admire. (And ask yourself WHY you like it) I really, really love the way that TFW/avengers team is portrayed in some stories, in others, I’m like “meh.” Write to please yourself, first and foremost, on how to read these characters thoughts. Those who agree with you will flock to be your audience, and they’re who matter.

Language/word choice is really important for POV change. Again, people talk like how they think.

POV change? Treat the character whose POV it is like they are THE most important person in existence. Their reactions get a front seat. Their five senses are your concern. What they notice about a character may not be true, but it's what they notice. They are human, not omniscient, ergo, they'll get things wrong. Even if the story is written with a completely different character in mind, this character is still the most important. POV's time to think, talk, panic, angst, express, etc. That chapter was about how they felt. That’s why sometimes, even if I really do want them to talk or something, a character might think “please don’t say xyz” because THEY don’t want that, and how I feel as an author isn’t relevant here. Remembering that they’re human, and need time to process/react to things is huge.

Practice, practice, practice. It does get easier with time, and effort. I promise. All of you would laugh at my first few weeks of diving into fandoms. That stuff is garbage.

Conscious stream of thought is generally the best way to engage readers, and the most enjoyable. This is how we immerse ourselves into the story. We become a part of it because we follow their thinking. It is always ideal to start where you are the most comfortable, whether that's 3rd omniscient, 2nd person, etc, but, in my opinion, you don't get that true "click" with the characters until you've conscious stream of thought them.

Research. Lots of research. Don't know how long battieres could last in 2002? Look it up. Don't know how to do stitches? Google it. Try to avoid making things up.

Look guys. Everyone understands that you are most likely NOT a doctor or have any semblance of a medical degree. This is fiction. Research what you can, and move forward carefully or vague it out with the rest. The worst that can happen is someone correcting information you got wrong.

Please, please, please stay within the range of human limitation. (Or whatever creature/being you are writing for) You can't lose more than five pints of blood. You CAN die from pain. Infection spreads quickly. I'm sorry. I just. Have read so many fics from newbie writers who push their characters past extremes that is almost impossible. You want to hurt them that bad, break a bone or something. Just. Please try to be realistic. (Don't misunderstand here, I love me some well-done whump.)

Again with the "you are not a professional thing." Those diagnosed with mental illnesses know that you may not be writing from true experience. This is okay. But please, please do not avoid using any words or phrases common with the illness as you try to "vaguely" write it. The more authentic you are, the less likely you will offend someone. Look. I would be so frustrated if someone tried to write about an ED and just... Avoided words like "starve" "binge" and "hungry" because they didn't want to trigger me. Like. Sweeties, I appreciate the thought, I do, but it's more frustrating that you can't even SAY it than actually putting it into your writing. So. Please just. If you're going to write about a mental illness, do so with the intent to WRITE it, not skirt around the bush.

With that, if you are not diagnosed with the mental illness your writing for (or suspect that you have some form of it) that's okay! Google symptoms to get a basic idea, and search for first hand accounts. People's experience is a lot different than the definition. For example, some of the most hilarious people I know are severally depressed, and Google will just tell you they are sad.

Write write and write. You are building a skill. You have to practice that skill frequently.

Do not be afraid to ask for feedback. Betas are wonderful. Asking for advice is wonderful. Being too shy and afraid of criticism for asking for help is perfectly okay. (Hello fellow traveler)

If your search history doesn't have you being watched by government organizations in the next few months, you aren't researching enough. ;)

Take your time. Quality over quantity. Do NOT conform to the update fairy that demands updates frequently. Look. I love my readers. I do. But you HAVE to take your time to finish things in order for them to be worth reading. If this is six hours or six years, that's that.

Do not give everything away. Stop answering questions. We keep reading because we have unanswered questions. Anticipation = good. Knowing everything at once: bad.

Do not put in funny for the sake of funny.

Insults should be insulting, not make people want to cringe and duck their heads.

Dialog should serve as people communicating... Like actual people.

Siblings (unless otherwise said so by canon) DO NOT address each other as "bro" and "sis"

Not a native English speaker? Cool. Natives would love to help you learn their language. :) English grammar sucks.

Analogies should make sense. They should flow smoothly into the writing. If they pop out, you've lost the attention of your writers.

please, please don't glorify rape, racism, homophobia, mental illness shaming/glorification, abuse, sexism, and other crappy things. Thanks. People came for a story, not to get their souls crushed.

[kathyprior4200]

Welcome to Wacky Wally Wackford’s World!

Greetings, I say, greetings demons of all ages! The name’s Wally Wackford, an oh so suave man of business! You may not know me, but surely you’ve seen me…pretty much everywhere. Yes, I’ve never been the type to stay in one place for long. Life can be pretty wild at times. But that’s what makes it oh so fun!

 So what’s my story, you say, you say? Well look no further, ‘cause I have a tale to tell.

 I’ve been doing freelance work off and on, laboring at one job, moving onto the next. The jobs vary a lot, but I’m a Wally of many trades. (Yes, I’ve been fired many times as well, figuratively and literally…it is Hell after all.) Early on, I found out that living in poverty is never a lot of fun. I quickly learned how to scam other people…and boy did I enjoy it! It was the only way I could inch toward the top, get some power of my own. I’d make a few deals here and there and then when clients got desperate, I’d say something like, “Oh I’m so sorry but there’s an extra fee you have to pay. Forgot to mention that.” Then I’d point to that small scribbled section on the contract I added in moments ago.

 “I’m starving, sir!” they’d say. Or, “I left my money at home,” or my favorite: “Shove it up your trickster rear!”

 Sometimes they did pay me extra. Other times they didn’t…and those were the ones who soon forgot about everything forever. (chuckles).

 Anyway, moving on.

 Sometimes when my days got long and hard, I’d go to saloons for a nice bottled drink. The emerald colored Greed Mead is my favorite. Twirling my thin black mustache, I’d wink at some pretty imp gals nearby and say, “Hey there. You’ve been in Hell for a long time. Is that why you’re so hot?”

 Most of the time, I’d get a swift punch to the face in response. The glares on their pretty faces, “Take that remark to the Sloth Ring, lazy bootleg fucker.”

 So many aggressive people these days. I could tip my black hat to many imps and they’d either fall to my charms or roll their eyes. I was fine with that. There’s not much else to do in Hell then to live your life and amuse yourself with watching others struggle. In fact, pretty much every sin is encouraged, so why not keep going?

 After stalking around looking for more people to scam, I came across Loo-Loo Land in the Ring of Greed. I’ve always loved that place, its vibrant atmosphere emitting joyful fun and chaotic flair. I walked on over and asked the vendor, “I say, you have any jobs here?”

 “I’ve heard of you, Wacky Wally,” he said at the ticket stand. “You may be a good pick-pocket, but your skills are nothing compared to Mammon. In fact, this whole place is a fucking rip-off of Lucifer’s Lu-Lu Land!”

 “All the more reason to love this place!” I exclaimed.

 “Robo Fizz is putting on another show at 7pm tomorrow,” said the beefy imp vendor. “Made in Mammon’s factory and modeled after the famous imp Fizzarolli.” He then spoke in a low whisper, “It includes some behind the scenes moments for the VIPs…you know, with tentacles and ‘special features.’”

 “Oh that sounds delicious!” I said with a slow grin. “It’d be great to see how his…mechanics work someday…”

 The imp vendor rolled his eyes and flinched at my lighthearted comment. Always know what to say to get that grimace reaction.

 “Anyway,” said the vendor, “We’re running low on staff, so you can go sell those torches over there.”

 The imp pointed to a pink cart with Mammon’s jester face on it. I shrugged and got to work.

 I happily rolled my cart around, selling torches wherever I went. I could honestly stare into those mesmerizing green flames all day.

 “Torches here!” I drawled in my Foghorn Leghorn southern accent. “66% off when you buy four! Parties, decoration, destruction and more!”

 One time on my break, I got to talk to Robo Fizz about money, shows, sex and chaos. We even cracked some jokes together. The robot seemed a little nervous in my presence but then again, he was very unpredictable on a daily basis.

 “A duck, a frog, a demon and a skunk go into a bar. The bartender told them that the drinks were one dollar each. How did they pay for them? Answer: The duck had a bill, the frog had a greenback, the demon had a soul…but the skunk only had a scent!”

 “Hahahaha!” Robo Fizz laughed, sparks flying near him. “Your jokes are much better than Blitzo’s corny puns!”

 “Why thank you,” I replied. “But nothing beats your organ-playing animatronics in your ‘Wonderful World of Evil’ puppet show you did last month.”

 Robo Fizz grinned at the compliment. “You do anything else besides selling torches?”

 “I scam, I kill, I do a little bit of both. Oh and I’m also a great inventor!”

 “How marvelous!” Robo Fizz grinned. “Perhaps if you have enough mayhem in you, you could perform with me at the next Fizzarolli N Friends show!”

 “I say, I’d love that! I’m sure your show will be top notch, copyright be dammed…won’t it?”

 Robo Fizz smiled widely, hiding a strain. “You bet it will!”

 It was during one interesting day when I pushed my cart by a large tent where several Robo Fizz posters were posted. I held up a troch with a hand and called:

 “Torches, I say! I say! Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Then before I knew it, the robot and a random imp crashed right into the cart.

 “Ow, I say OW!” I cried as the green flames quickly spread around. After getting the flames off me, I ran for the hills out of the burning park. I sat, dejected shortly afterward. So much for that job. Along with figuring out what to do next, I also happened to watch the imp fight off Robo Fizz…and the robot falling into the dragon’s mouth.

 How unfortunate.

 After helping Robo Fizz from the dragon’s insides, (killing said dragon, pulling out said robot, cleaning and making quick repairs), I inched closer to him and said, “You made some new friends, I say.”

 Robo Fizz stood tense with just long wires for his body, a metal skeleton of his previous appearance. “Yes…an old time co-worker of mine. A clown of an imp named Blitzo. He and his sisters were once part of a circus act called “The Amazing Imp Siblings. A bit dowdy if you ask me. ”

 Robo Fizz looked around. “Hahahaha! That was some chaotic fun. But now the park is ruined!”

 “I say, if I were you,” I told him, “I’d do all I could to get this park repaired and back on track. Costs a whole lotta money. The last thing you need is to have your boss disappointed in you.”

 A brief look of fear came on his face. “Oh yes, yes, good idea, Wally.”

 “And your friend…whether you upstage him or what, you’d best be sure Blitzo stays out of trouble. I lost my job and almost my life because of that fight!” My yellow eyes shined in a show of sadness.

 “I-I will not let master Mammon down…not that I have a choice.”

 “Let Asmodeus know what’s up as well.”

 Robo Fizz nodded, spun away and laughed. “Time to find that rodeo clown imp!”

0 0 0

 Later on after leaving Greed, I got a brilliant idea. It was after I saw some old fashioned 1800s snake man in Pride plow down buildings with a metal bulldozer vehicle. That was it! I could start my own business!

 I walked over to 666 News station. “Oh Katie,” I said in my sweetest voice.

 “What is it, scum?” she asked, sitting at a mirror and doing her hair. “Can’t you see I’m preparing for a back to back broadcast right now?”

 “I was considering doing my very own commercial about me exploiting…erm, employing other demons for my new factory.”

 Katie barked out a laugh. “Good luck with that, filthy old man! Now get out of my studio.”

 “Very well,” I said. As quiet as a hell mouse, I snatched a camera with an eye at the center and made my way out the door. The rest of the materials I needed came from a nearby junkyard. (Thankfully I avoided the wrath of some hungry kangaroo parasitic queen demon). I was running out of money fast; with no job around the corner, I figured I’d start my own!

 Even I don’t really know where I got my inventing skills from. Many say it was my natural trait. Others say I learned from other experts in the trade. After all, one of the quickset ways to a man’s wallet is through the latest technology.

 But I, Wally Wackford would not settle for your standard modern devices. No. I preferred to make things…well, wacky.

 In no time at all, I had built myself my own mini studio where I could film my commercial! Now, what to call my company? Hmm…

  The Onceler One In a Lifetime Opportunity? No, not enough Ws.

 Wowing Whimsical Wonderous Wonders? Nah, too many Ws.

 Ah…of course! What is a company if you don’t have your name on it?

0 0 0

“Uh huh, keep going, keep going, keep going!” Blitzo insisted at the I.M.P. office.

 Moxxie switched the channel again. This time, an imp appeared wearing a large black top hat, a white shirt and pants, gray vest, black bow tie and black boots. He held a cane in his hands and he also had a thin curly mustache. A mischievous grin of sharp teeth appeared on his face.

 “I say, I say!” the imp exclaimed, briefly pointing his cane at the camera. “Are you looking to get work making crazy contraptions and goofy gadgets?” “Crazy Contraptions” and “Goofy Gadgets” appeared in bold spiked icons to the imp’s left and right. The imp twirled his cane.

 “Well call me at Wacky Wally Wackford’s Wacky Idea ‘Factory!’”

 He pulled down another screen. The title appeared in bold red, gray and white letters surrounded by pinkish circles reminiscent of classic cartoons. “Factory” appeared in quotations. Wally Wackford appeared again.

 “Where you make the things and I make the money!”

 Wally Wackford then got up closer to the camera with a pleading look. “Please, I’m very desperate!”

 “Bingo!” Blitzo called, shooting and exploding the TV again.

 0 0 0

 It was actually really easy to find where Blitzo was and the new sinner inventors. The killing company of imps had me very curious. If they could start a business, why shouldn’t I? And being in the company of amazing inventors…

 I could almost see the soul dollar bills floating into my hands.

 I snuck up to the building, merged into the floor, eavesdropped on their fascinating conversation…

  0 0 0

Crash!

 A metal plank crashed into the room from above as Moxxie scurried out of the way. Loopty Goopty strolled down the plank. “Blitz!”

 “Loofa!” Blitzo called, saying his name wrong. “We can explain everything. I was…”

 Crash!

 Millie pulled Moxxie out of the way before another metal plank landed in the spot where he would’ve been. From on the floor, Blitzo’s butt was very much in view. Blitzo glanced down at him and remarked, “Oh chill out Moxxie, if you kiss my ass any harder you’ll go right inside me.”

 Moxxie turned beet red in the face and scooted further back. Millie helped him up again.  

 “Thanks for saving me again,” Moxxie said. “I would’ve foamed at the mouth and maybe died again.”

 “Why would you think I would ever ignore you?”

 Moxxie shrugged.

 Just then, the demonic form of a man rolled down the plank. His body was black and spherical, with a mint green head wearing a black bowler hat on top. He had a large bushy light gray mustache and pince-nez goggles with dark red spirals on the lens like Loopty. His grinning teeth resembled piano keys.

 “Lyle Lipton?!” Millie, Moxxie, and Blitzo asked in unison.

 “I don’t understand,” said Millie. “We thought you went to Heaven.”

 Lyle Lipton chuckled. “Heaven?” He rolled toward Loopty Goopty. “You don’t make millions in technological advances in robotics by not experimenting on the poor!” He laughed.

 Loopy Goopty grinned as he unleashed his weapons in front of Lyle Lipton. “Finally! We meet again at last! Now that you’re dead, you have no money to keep from me!”

 “Well, I’m a better inventor than you!” Lyle scoffed. “And I’ll make the most money here first!”

 “Nonsense you no good son of a bitch!”

 “Tie yourself in a knot, loony Loopty!”

 “Roll in your grave, fat shit inventor!”

 “Two robotic inventors?!” called a nearby voice. A steampunk blimp hovered in the air and a well-dressed snake demon appeared from a hole in his ship.

 “Who is that guy?” Lyle Lipton asked.

 “I’m the one and only Sir Pentious!” he declared. Several Egg Bois were steering his ship. The eye on his dark top hat peered at the other sinners in curiosity. “With my dominating machines, I aim to take over all of Pentagram City!” Then he muttered, “The repairs were a fucking nightmare to endure.” He glanced at the leftover cracks and holes on the metal sides of his ship.

 “Oooh!” Loopty exclaimed in admiration. “I’ve only seen such inventions in old time history books. How long have you been here?”

 “Since eighteen eighty eight!”

 “Love the loopy numbers!” Loopty grinned, making three small eights with his contraptions. “I’m Loopty Goopty! Lyle is my could’ve been partner in crime but actually rival!”

 “When you’re rich as me, who needs a dead partner!” Lyle exclaimed.

 “You’re dead too, you know!”

 “Where did you cowardly sinners get here?” Sir Pentious asked.

 “Well we just got here,” Lyle called. “Experimenting on the poor made us millionaires! Just…be careful when messing with anti-aging machines. Made us both old.”

 “A machine that changes one’s age?” Sir Pentious pondered. “That could prove to be ussseful in the future,” he hissed.

 “Oh, you should join us, snake man!” Loopy suggested. “Or me, rather.”

 Sir Pentious briefly glared. “Hmm. While I’m perfectly capable of spreading my constrictive terror on my own…I suppose having some…lackey sidekicks would suffice.”

 “Don’t call us lackeys!” Lyle sneered. “And I’m not working with him!”

 “Maybe if we briefly collaborate as a team…”

 Lyle grumbled in annoyance.

 After a moment, Sir Pentious sighed. “Okay, you may join me, but…”

 He spread out his hood, revealing pink eyes. “Don’t even think about crossssing me.” He pulled his hood back. “Now go gather your contraptions and help me manage those scrambled fucking eggs!”

 A bunch of eggs in top hats and suits rolled out and jumped on the two inventors, who were stunned.

 Loopty then laughed evilly. “Inventors to inventors it is!”

 Just then, I popped out of the ground in the room.

  “Did someone say, I say inventors?! Name’s Wally Wackford, and I am lookin’ for creative new people to exploit! I mean employ.” I twirled my mustache with an evil grin.

 At last, a chance to expand my business of the mass production of robotic Fizzarollis! All of Hell will go crazy when they get a chance to buy all the sex robots, the merchandise, everything...and all to profit ME!

 “Everyone, stop fucking up my walls!” Blitzo yelled. “Moxxie’s gonna have to fix all this shit! Satan’s balls! First we deal with Heaven’s table-scraps, now this?”

 I smiled. “Well I guess you can say, you say, you have a holey operation here, Blitzo!”

 I slapped my knee and laughed at my own joke.

 “Get out,” Blitzo muttered.

 Soon I doubled down on the floor laughing. “Oh! I said, ‘o’!”

 Blitzo yelled, “No, I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

 Everyone in the room looked at Blitzo in shock and surprise.

0 0 0

 And then, that one other time where I helped host the Harvest Moon Festival Pain Games!

 Wally Wackford a.k.a. me…stood on the wooden stage, holding a gray microphone decorated with an eye in the center and small horns on the top. I wore my usual white shirt, vest, white pants and dark boots. I twirled my black cane and tipped my black top hat.

 I spoke dramatically through the microphone.

 “Welcome, I say welcome all to Wrath Ring’s annual Harvest Moon Festival! To kick things up, we have the great prince Stolas-a here to user in this here Pain Games!”

 Stolas took the microphone from me and chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“How kind, Wackford.”

 Stolas then addressed the audience. “Greetings tiny Wrath Ring imps. I hereby welcome you all to another year of celebrating the spoils of your labor that continue to feed the citizens of Hell!”

 A crowd of imps glared at him and several boos were heard. Many of these Wrath imps were impoverished farmers who lived on scraps, meat or good crops if they were lucky. The food they worked so hard to produce was consumed by royalty and those in the other Rings. But the reward for their work was being underfed, underpaid and underappreciated instead. The unbalanced cycle had lasted for generations.

 I, too, stared at Stolas with a glare in my eyes. That rich royal thinks he can parade around, doing whatever he wants. Well unfortunately for him, I have plans of my own. Once he sees what I’m capable of…

 He will know who really rules the roost.

 Stolas obliviously continued. “I’m happy to kick off the start of these games that will challenge the toughest imps to show their skill and dominance.” He did a little wave with his fingers. “Good luck to you all!” He noticed Blitzo in the crowd beside Moxxie and Striker and spoke lower. “Especially that sexy little one there! Yoo-hoo, Blitzy!”

 “Oh fuck me,” Blitzo scowled.

 A gun went off and the games began.

 The first event was the race. Moxxie was instantly trampled by the other racers.

 The second event was the high jump. Striker climbed over the high wooden ramp structure with ease and raced after Blitzo who jumped past him. Moxxie struggled to keep his balanced as he reached the top. He slipped down, trying to use his claws to hold on. He fell with a splash in a small puddle…and was promptly chewed on by a monstrous black and white shark with several red eyes.

 The third event was an event with rope. Striker grinned as he held a tied up Blitzo. Blitzo’s arms, legs and horns were all tied up. Moxxie gulped as a stronger grinning imp tied him up with ease.

 The fourth event was tug of war. The crowd cheered as the two teams pulled hard. Striker, Blitzo and Moxxie were on a team. Moxxie stumbled and fell into nearby water, where the shark attacked him again.

 The fifth event was mud wrestling. Blitzo and Striker grinned as they wrestled each other, Striker getting the upper hand as he held Blitzo down, arms locked. Moxxie was instantly crushed in a football hurdle by a group of imps. As they got off of him, Moxxie sat up. And the shark leaped out of the water and over the fence.

 “Mother fucker!” Moxxie screamed as the shark crushed him. (Moxxie somehow survived all this.)

 I hopped back on stage.

 “I say, I say for the first year ever, we have a tie, for the winner of the Harvest Moon Pain Games!”

 Stolas took the microphone from me again.

 “The winners are…Striker, and my darling Blitzy!” Stolas did a one-legged pose as the crowd cheered.

 “Just say my name right!” Blitzo complained. He muttered “Fucking dick,” as he and Striker walked onto the stage.

0 0 0

After the event, I noticed that I.M.P. and Stolas had left. After sharing an undiscernible look with Striker, we parted ways.

 I soon returned to a special place in Greed, tired but determined. I walked alone down dark hallways, torches burning green flames on either side. I wagged my pointed red tail.

 I pushed open the double doors and came across a marvelous sight.

 Gold. Heaps of it, just shining brightly all around the vast spacious chamber. Gold pillars held up the cavern-like ceiling, a chandelier made of bones and diamonds hung from above. There were chests of necklaces, precious gems, goblets and weapons of every shape and size. Hanging on a far wall, concealed in shadow were angelic weapons…at least half a dozen.

 I stared around in amazement. Even Lucifer would be surprised if he could see this place.

 I raced around and tossed the gold coins into the air. In a craze, I rolled around in a nearby pile of green dollar souls. With a grin, I stood up and stared with pride at the grinning face of the jester printed on there.

 A face confident in his ability to deceive others, pursue wealth and bask in endless entertainment.

 The grinning face was all too familiar…

 …because it was my face.

 Wally Wackford leaned his head back, mouth open in a high pitched shriek as dark magic flickered around him. The imp form fell and morphed into shadow. In the imp’s place, a large black beast with thick fur, razor sharp claws and red eyes decorating the body. The figure stood up on two powerful furry legs and sat comfortably in a giant golden throne that occupied the center of the chamber. Angular jester clothing of red, gold and purple stripes adorned the wolf body. And finally, a large spiked black crown sat atop the dark loopy jester hat with bells at the ends. A white and gold jester face showed sharp white teeth and glowing yellow eyes. Dark clawed hands juggled fresh demon skulls into the air and popped them into his large mouth. He crunched loudly before swallowing every bit.

 My imp disguise was perfect. Literally no one else save for Robo Fizz and a few elites knew who was underneath. And even then, my magic was so powerful it could easily confuse anyone around me.

 Being an imp has its advantages; you can travel anywhere and gather information along the way. You can track imps from a killing company and find out where they’ll likely travel to next. You can affiliate yourself with your own robotic creations, some slave imps and succubi…and then in your own form, work with a fellow Deadly Sin on the next stage.

 A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

 Funny, really. Wally Wackford could easily be a separate being, born into poverty, learning to scam others at an early age and go up from there. I, however, didn’t need to learn anything…deceiving others and attracting material wealth was a natural talent. As was shapeshifting.

 Lucifer might not be happy with me coping his idea of a theme park…but business is business…and in Hell, anything goes.

 That incompetent prince Stolas would be dead soon enough. No more Goetia showoffs to get in the way of my rule and reputation. At least the prince’s wife was rightfully concerned with maintaining tradition that has existed for centuries. Aside from my dear friend Lucifer, I was, and should be, the most powerful being in Hell. I’ll keep exploiting those I choose because money is money.

 Those I.M.P. assassins have no idea who they were dealing with.

 I let out a crazed evil laugh, intermingled with a wolf’s howl. With a single touch of my hand, my nearby scepter turned into gold. I admired its shiny flawless sheen. Asmodeus, Leviathan, Lucifer, Satan, Belphegor, Beelzebub and myself…the Seven Deadly Sins…circus-loving rulers of the Overlords and in charge of maintaining chaotic order in our respective Rings.

  I, Mammon, had much to do.

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | L Lawliet

L is here too, wow. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot, again. 

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

   Here is the thing: сhildren receiving inadequate affection may manifest stunted physical growth despite receiving adequate nutrition, so you can imagine what it can do to the emotional growth and perception of other people. Watari tried to cultivate kindness, mercy, love equally in his wards but it is impossible considering how many orphans reside in Wammy’s house. Little L was more interested in the world’s famous inventions, books, riddles than in other children, and now you have to face the consequences.

  He has to start from scratch. In the beginning L sticks to mimicking affection given to him. You bought him a box of chocolate, he will buy you a box of eclairs. You ruffled his hair, he will play with yours, twisting it on finger. You hugged him and he will hug you whenever feels convenient. At some point he will find new ways of showing his love.

  Understanding that he can do other things too gave him insight. He can try this, and that, and ask you if you liked it or not, wow. L’s curiosity will take over: different types of kisses, various cuddle positions, playful fights, nights out, nights in – he wants to do it all.

  Well, not everything is so rosy. During work, he forgets what he has learned and goes back to his old self. Sadly, this won’t change no matter what.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

 Where to begin? How do you even get this man to be your friend? You don’t. He chooses you and then suddenly, - boom! – you’re best friends forever, it is established fact. But before it happens, he will study you like an ant under a magnifying glass.

There is not a lot of places where he can find a person with an IQ close to his. High chance L will look for a friend among the best FBI agents or fellow detectives.

 Friends who judge people together stay together. He is a person who likes to spill some tea and throw a little shade for entertainment.

  Sarcasm and irony are things that no conversation can go without, so L wants a person who doesn’t get offended right away and can keep up with it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

   The best way to make L shut up is to cuddle him. No way he will refuse a good cuddle session when in private, but will hesitate if someone else is around.

 He’s 100% touch-starved. All cuddle positions are fine, but if you want to knock him out completely go for face to face cuddle while on his lap. Now he can’t sit in frog-like position (so his IQ has already dropped) and there’s person playing with his hair? Congratulation, L has fallen.

 D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

D stands for domestic and disaster when it comes to both cooking and cleaning. Even though he would love to settle down and retire from detective work, he has no skills when it comes to the most basic things. His whole life someone else took care for those little unimportant tasks so he could push human mind to its limit, and now it’s too late for relearning. When he tries to cook it never ends up well, you just have to accept this man’s futility and move on.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There was nothing surprising that he had to break up with you. No other possible ending for such relationship, absurd and strange, and with someone like him. L will choose cruel ghosting because explanation is for losers and emotionally mature people. One day he vanishes from your radar: no more messages, no more calls, nobody knows him because L never met your friends. Conscience continues to nibble him for two weeks or so, he has to continuously fight desire to contact you and he would miserably fail if there was no Kira to occupy all of his free time.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Two to three years are enough for him to pop a question. Those months were spent in careful study and relationship viability assessment. Let’s be real, he will put person he likes in tricky situations just to evaluate their reaction. Manipulative? Yes. Cruel? Yes. Weird? Yes. He won’t allow anything extreme though. After all, he learned  a lot about human interactions and developed undoubtedly strong feelings for them. In addition, he will propose during trip to Kyoto, when visiting Kiyomizu-dera  with its famous Love Shrine. Right after “Why would I walk between these   stones if I already found you?”.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

In the beginning his level of gentleness is somewhere between a log and jar of jam. Day by day, week by week L realizes that all of his actions come down to the will to care, love, protect, - and guess what? – these three have to be gentle in order to fit the definition of healthy relationship. He allows himself to grow emotionally. If we talk about physical sphere, he is very cautious from the beginning and tries to fight his natural stiffness so another person can feel his love.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

It’s another of his weakness. L wasn’t properly hugged as a child and it took a toll on him: when you hug him for first time, he is stiff and awkward. Second time is better, but his hands on your back still feel like a mannequin’s grip.

L grows fond of warmth and comfort pretty fast and he starts to initiate hugs himself. His favorite part of the day is when he tiptoes to you from behind, grabs you in bear hug, and you both fall on the sofa/bed/anything soft enough to leave you without bruises.  

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He suddenly blurted it out after only 3 months of dating. It sounded so innocent, affectionate, sincere, that he shut up for a minute to rethink what just happened. He totally meant what he said, of course, but at the same time, he was not sure it was the right moment, the right tone, even the right choice of words. L will try to explain what he wanted to say in trembling voice but will not say anything coherent because L.exe stopped working.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

 Because of how hard it is to let new people in, L becomes very attached to those who have overcome all obstacles and decided to stay in his life. Thus fear of abandonment arises, and so does jealousy.

He is not paranoid about where you are and who you spend your time, but he doesn’t mind  knowing it. You don’t want to use a tracker on your phone? Too bad, maybe, he’s already installed it. For your safety only.

 Easily jealous and will need a lot of reassurance despite immediately becoming distant and silent. It is another way of manipulation because what if you do leave him all alone?

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Again, he didn’t have a lot of practice so L’s kisses are sloppy and a little rough. His lips are always chapped because of constant licking and biting during intense thought process, and they feel a little dry on your skin. Because of this (and awkwardness, of course) L will quickly shift kisses into cuddles or hugs. He both prefers to kiss and be kissed on the forehead, since, in his opinion, it is the gentlest expression of love.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

The God is dead, house is on fire, Watari maneuvers between flames, trying to save the day. No, seriously, kids love L, he looks like a character from their favorite cartoon, but since he is not the most energetic person, to say the least, they quickly lose interest in him. The best solution for L is to babysit with someone who is more experienced and can guide him through this complicated process. Otherwise, he will make sure all dangerous objects are out of reach and leave children to themselves (if their age allows, of course).

Afraid to have kids of his own. Living in orphanage, he had no real functional family so a thought of parent's duty scares him.

 M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

·   Morning routine depends on L’s messed up sleeping schedule:

If he went to bed last night, it means sleep deprivation finally got to him. Next 12 hours or so he will spend in blanket cocoon, tossing and slightly snuffling. No human power can wake him up, there’s no point in trying.

However if he stayed up all night, you will find out your kitchen turned into delicious sweet buffet. TV is still turned on with weird movie playing, but no sound is coming out of speakers. A tower of empty teacups is about to collapse. L is sitting in the chair, eating two cupcakes at once, lost in thoughts. He will offer you to join him in feast and raise his head a little, exposing his cheek for a kiss. It’s 5 am. Sun is rising and erasing last stars from the sky. Life is good.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

·Nights out are rare, most of the times you stay inside, eating take-out and watching true crime documentaries. He still cannot decide whether they are dumb or interesting, so he keeps watching and changing his opinion with every new episode. After you go to bed, L will lay down next to you. Sometimes he will fall asleep, cuddling you and nuzzling into your neck. Sometimes he will get up and do God knows what.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Well, he gives you fake name, always lies about his job, and holds back many details about his life… L wants to open up, he really does, but there’s no way he will do it. To every question he has a prepared half-true answer. Everything related to detective work is hidden behind seven seals and will be never presented to you unless you’re from FBI.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

The embodiment of serenity, L never gets angry in classical sense. He may sulk, turn to sarcasm, shower your with stinging comments or, on the contrary, suddenly stop talking, but you’ll never see him red-faced, screaming, swearing right and left. He doesn’t have time to waste energy on such silly thing. It takes a lot to make him mad. After he calms down, L will continue make bitter remarks about thing that pissed him off for weeks.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Not that attentive, really. You would expect him to remember a lot but he is always busy chasing exceptional criminals and his brain erases many details, both minor and major. For example, he can easily forget your Birthday and congratulate you both before and after it.

L never fails to remember anniversaries thanks to phone reminders. However, if he doesn’t check his phone that day, he will forget about them as well.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

No matter how trite it may sound, his favorite moment is their first kiss. L clearly remembers his heart beating deafeningly loud and palms sweating like he’s kid who got in big trouble. There is no picture left in his memory, only feelings and crazy thoughts, terribly matted together. After it happened, L couldn’t even make a witty remark. Later that day he sat in front of overflowing cup of tea and slowly realized how little happiness he had felt before.  

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Since he did everything to protect himself first and then, - just in case, - put a spying app on the phone of his loved, a satisfactory sense of security drowns out all of his possible fears. If anything happens, there’s already a rescue plan waiting to be executed.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Let’s say he is trying, he is trying his best every day.

When it comes to presents, L will go for advice to Internet, rarely to Watari, and choose gift as close as possible to your interests. Dates are all on you though, because he feels so strange when he has to plan something for you two. On a subconscious level, he is afraid to ruin everything.

Tries even harder on anniversaries (if he remembers about them) and you either have the best day of your life, when he does whenever you want, or you are all alone wondering what the actual heck. In short, it’s all or nothing situation.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

L is obviously manipulative, you can’t justify him. Some manipulation techniques are so integrated in his thinking and speech that it is impossible to get rid of them. Like if gaslighting was an Olympic sport, he would have all golden, silver, and bronze medals.

It seems like the opposite to the first point, but L also loves to be inappropriate straightforward. You know, moments when you understand what you feel but when another person vocalizes it or comments on it, you absolutely lose your shit? That’s what we talk about.

Quirkiness. I don’t really think this needs explanation. The totality of his strange habits can be a very repulsive sight to an ordinary person.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Watari is more concerned about his looks than he is. L never buys his clothes, his wardrobe is minimalist’s dream and consists of few pieces of monotone clothes, three pairs of shoes, and warm jacket for a fall/winter season. He doesn’t like brushing his hair, bites his nails to the blood, but absolutely adores hot bubble bathes. Looks do not matter when all people see is the letter L in Gothic font.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Depends on time spent in the relationship:

 It’s stupid to expect L to suffer tremendously if you leave in first two months. When you are here he is a little bit happier, when you are not he is not that concerned. There’s still a high chance you’ll see him as he sees himself and leave, so why would he bother? It’s almost a painful expectation for another person to give up. If it ends, nothing will change, end of story.

Later L starts to catch himself worrying that someone finally climbed over the wall of his alienation, and it doesn’t seem like they are planning to leave any time soon. The closer they get, the scarier it is. If you suddenly cut all ties, he will be heartbroken, his face is emotionless like always but he is still hurt deep inside.

If anything happens a lot later in relationship, like year or two, L’s reaction will be calmer. He is grateful for everything they had and shared with him, for every moment of happiness, so he doesn’t feel like they can leave completely now. They will remain in his memory and his heart and because of it he won’t feel “incomplete”. A little bitter, but not hurt or emotionally torn apart.

If there’s any possibility that his loved one was killed by Kira, L will be furious. He will turn over every stone, use everything he can to avenge them and bring a peace to their memory.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

It’s scary how much time L spends in frog-like position with back hunched. Therefore I feel like he will be ecstatic if someone offered him a good back massage to relax those tense muscles.

Overall, he loves random spa days when you two spend time in sauna, hot springs, yoga class etc. This probably would be his present on your first anniversary.

Some children were obsessed with dinosaurs, some were obsessed with superheroes, but L was obsessed with occultism, urban legends, haunted things, unexplained disappearances, and ghosts. His obsession died but its influence didn’t. Why else would he be so scarred and intrigued after hearing about Shinigami?

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Just like Light, he wouldn’t stand blatant stupidity. Even if there’s something to compensate it, he will grow tired of dumb questions or over-all behavior. Oh, and he will give his comments on it whenever possible too.

Nosiness and bad boundaries. If he keeps some information to himself, it is not because of luck of trust. As a world’s best detective, he has many reasons to dodge personal questions to protect his work from interference and himself from possibility of getting killed.

He doesn’t like loud noises but can put up with it if needed with his collections of different ear plugs.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

It’s a common knowledge L’s sleeping schedule is non-existent. It has been like it since the day he took his first case and nothing has changed since. Watari keeps an eye on how many hours L stays awake and suggests him to rest from time to time but it rarely helps. Once L got so exhausted he straight up started hallucinating about having an adopted child and it scarred the hell out of him. After this incident he takes Watari’s advice more seriously.

L tried different versions of polyphase sleep at least once. Non of them worked, he ended up even more tired and frustrated, lost feeling in one of his arms, then broke a cup because of it.

Also L can sleep everywhere, no matter how uncomfortable he is. In the chair, leaning on the wall, on the floor – it all works for him unless there’s a loud noise in the room.

[itsclydebitches]

Why do you think people aren't able to grasp the more nuance and difference of Ironwood vs a actual villain like Salem? Is the concept that sometimes you can't save everyone and have to make the tough calls hard to understand? I'm all for IW saving everyone and stoping Salem, but the show has yet to provide anyway that's possible. What's he supposed to do? I want to know what people want IW to do that will save Mantle, Atlas, and stop Salem.

I think a lot of it stems from unintentionally and/or willfully misunderstanding what the situation actually is. I list both because sometimes the misunderstanding stems from “I completely forgot they established this eight episodes ago,” sometimes it’s “I spend a lot of time in the fandom and when theories started being presented as facts I didn’t notice the change,” or “I’ve hated this character for so long that anything said even remotely in their favor is going to fall on deaf ears,” etc. There are a lot of ways it can come about, but the takeaway is I don’t think the concept that you can’t always save everyone is hard to understand, so there’s something interfering with the ability to see the situation that way. Those who supposedly don’t understand it are viewing it as Situation B whereas we’re seeing Situation A. We’re asking why they don’t like the taste of apples when they think they’re eating an orange. 

Some concrete examples that I’ve seen in regards to Ironwood: 

“But Ruby can just use her silver eyes. Ironwood is ignoring an obvious weapon here. He’s not even willing to try to fight and that’s bad.” This is applying our knowledge - an audience’s meta, genre savvy knowledge - to the situation, thereby changing it, but it’s not knowledge Ironwood shares. That situation doesn’t exist in the canon. No one has established for him that silver eyes are a potential weapon against Salem. Ruby hasn’t even realized that yet. Why would he risk everything on a theory no one has ever brought up? How much does Ironwood even know about SEWs? It’s a slightly more complicated version of yelling at the protagonist for not arresting the serial killer. The audience has forgotten that we know who the killer is because we have additional knowledge that the character lacks. 

“Ironwood’s plan is stupid. The grimm are just going to fly up to Atlas and then they’ll be trapped. How are they going to feed themselves for months on end? He’s resigning the people of Atlas to a slow, agonizing death.” This is simultaneously ignoring the actual situation and making it sound far worse than it is by assuming a whole bunch of lore that we don’t know anything about, one way or the other. The situation is not, “What’s the best plan Ironwood can come up with and is this one it?” it’s “What’s any plan he can come up with? Because that plan is better than death.” None of our characters claimed flying away was perfect or without problems, just that it had a possibility of ending better than staying to face Salem will. We then have those assumptions tacked on. Do we know how high grimm can fly? No. Do we know how long Atlas can sustain itself? No. Did Ironwood ever say he planned to stay up there for months on end? No. Yet fans are inclined to state the worst potential outcome as facts: grimm can fly that high and Atlas will starve and Ironwood does plan to hide in the clouds forever... even though there’s nothing to support any of that. 

Finally, we got another perfect example in my last reblog: “And Ironwood would leave them to die because of a pissing match he had with Ozpin.” First, framing them disagreeing and then Ironwood listening to Ozpin over the course of many years as a “pissing match” is highly inaccurate. (Insert here: likewise misinterpreting his “I’d have you shot” comment as legitimate setup for him shooting people now). Second, the conflict of whether to leave Mantle behind or stay to fight a doomed battle has nothing to do with Ozpin. He’s still hanging out inside Oscar. He is not a part of this decision process, nor is Ironwood acting like he is. There is nothing in our final episode to suggest that any of Ironwood’s choices stem from a “pissing match” with his former boss... but that sentence sounds really damning, doesn’t it? It’s reeeeallly easy to state something with confidence and allow readers to fill in the blanks: “Well I remember them disagreeing in the past... and this one post said that maybe Ironwood thought he was shooting Ozpin instead of Oscar... so yeah! He’s a villain because he cares more about his fight with Ozpin than his kingdom!” And then they spread that belief further. Yet where is the evidence for this? Not in the scenes where Ironwood and Ozpin resolved their conflicts. Not in Ironwood kindly greeting Oscar when he thought he was Ozpin. Not in the vault scene where Ironwood basically went, “Are you still Oscar?” and Oscar went “Yup” and that was the end of that. When you’ve got fans who watched the episode once (nothing wrong with that, it’s just then easy to misremember things), a fandom that states headcanons as facts, and other fans who are inclined to make confident but unsubstantiated statements, it’s incredibly easy to tell everyone that 2 + 2 = 10. You pick a canon event, present it as something it wasn’t, pick a headcanon, slam them together, and people come to a wildly different conclusion from what you’d get if you’re dealing strictly with the canon. 

So I think anyone is able to grasp the nuance of this situation, it just requires dealing with this situation. Which is why I demand evidence! From both others and myself so that we can see what the situation actually is. Any and every statement made has to be able to be backed up by dialogue, visuals, action, or narration in the canon, or we need to acknowledge when statements have dialogue, visuals, actions, or narration that contradicts them in the canon. Doesn’t mean there isn’t wiggle room - there’s still very much interpretation of these things, as well as contradictions within the canon - but demanding evidence helps keep everyone on the same page. If someone can’t point to when Ironwood learned that silver eyes could potentially defeat Salem, or if they can’t present the dialogue where he says he intends to never land Atlas, or if they can’t show you where they formed the opinion that Ironwood was talking to Ozpin, or if they’re ignoring the five scenes you can pull up that undermine their position... it’s not persuasive. And if it’s not persuasive it’s unlikely to be the real situation. And if it’s not the real situation, then the fan is never going to grapple with the actual question at hand: Is it worth risking everyone you’ve already gotten to safety to fight someone who you currently have no way to beat? 

Evidence is everything. Not to make this a soap box post, but this is how misinformation about ~important~ subjects is spread as well, not just our fun webseries. Has this person misrepresented this situation? Have they left out crucial information? If I ask them to trace their logic will they do so? Does it make sense? Can they point to the moment when they said this thing happened? Can they back up their claims with sources? Do I trust those sources? Honestly, fandom is a great place to practice skills that are going to help you throughout your life and this is one of the reasons why the anger at me making fandom “unnecessarily political” is hilarious. Not only is media inherently political, not only are massive online communities inherently political, but the behavior  we exhibit in fandom is wrapped up in politics as well. Statements like “Ironwood abandoned a city because he was pissed at Ozpin” are just a safe, fictionalized version of “Vaccines will give your kids autism.” They’re both unsubstantiated claims that sound very damning. So you ask, “How did you reach that conclusion? Because if I demand evidence for that I don’t think I’m going to be persuaded...” 

When you’ve got a pocket of fandom that demands and listens to evidence, then you’ve likewise got a pocket working with the same situation. Then you can grapples with the aspects that stem from personal preference and subjectivity: I still stand by Ruby’s inability to leave people behind, Ironwood’s pragmatism resonates with me, I’d call him a hero, I’d call him an anti-hero, now we have to grapple with him shooting people and whether that clearly villainous act is built into his character arc well or if it’s an OOC call of the authors  ... all interpretations that differ, but are cut from the same cloth. 

[stargazer-balladeer]

I have decided to do a self-insert- 😃😃 Lily is now part of the Genshin world-

If ya’ll are interested in her backstory, pls continue- but if u aren’t, its okay- :pp i just want to share it-

(I also decided to edit the Yatagarasu a bit :pp bc i only know abt it thru ace attorney: miles investigations- ya know, Kay? So imma center it abt that-)

So I was planning to make Lily a Yatagarasu, i’ve heard that he was a great thief in Japan (idk if this is tru- cause when i look it up- it showed a three-legged crow-) or in this case Inazuma- and I also want her to have some connections with Cecilia (ya’ll remember her right-?). So this is what I have in mind-

Lily was born in Inazuma, in a rich, powerful family. Her parents were actually ppl that do experiments on children, one of this was Aura (or, as we all know, Cecilia). Lily was never aware of this fact however, since she views her parents as idols. She has two older brothers, of whom she loved dearly.

Her parents weren’t home much so she usually spends time inside her room or with her brothers and servants. Her life was practically perfect until-

Lily was curious on what her parents do so she followed them one day. You can imagine her horror when she found out- her parents soon discovered that their youngest child followed them. Knowing that she would tell everyone, they promptly banished her from Inazuma.

[I also have smth in mind abt banishment. Since her parents are powerful, they must know spells, right? What if they make an enchantment on her that makes her unable to return to Inazuma? Like tatoos. They’ll burn in her skin if she ever gets too close to Inazuma. Just a thought- 👀]

Lily, now frightened and alone, was scared. She didn’t know where to go. So she wandered in the wilderness, gaining injuries and bruises along the way. She only ate what she could. It isn’t until she stumbled upon a village (im not sure abt this part actually but lets wing it-)

The villagers (mINEcRAfT-) took pity on Lily and an elder took her in. There she slowly healed. And its also there where she learned how to fight. Since this villagers were known for their stealth (or ninja) background, they decided to teach it to Lily.

Lily slowly mastered their techniques and such. She learned how to use a polearm (yes, i like polearms- fite me-) and slowly became a master. Through trials and errors of course. She left Inazuma when she was around 5-6, and she arrived at this village when she was around 7 (so she wandered for 1-2 years-). She stayed in the village until she was around 12 or 13 years old.

Her life was completely normal, until a fire broke out and wiped everyone in the village. Everyone but Lily. Devastated, she fled once more. But she now carries the knowledge of the techniques that the village has taught her.

She wandered around once more before arriving to Liyue Harbor (i actually dont know where Inazuma is located but lets just roll with it-). There, she saw how ppl behave. And saw how ppl is having a hard time with money, poverty in short.

Ever since she was young, she was told of the great thief Yatagarasu, who would often steal something and return it. No one knew about their true intent. Then they revealed that their only goal was seeking the “Truth”. After saying that, they took down the malicious ruler (at that era) and made Inazuma a paradise once more. (I’m not sure abt this- hshsh-)

Ever since then, tales about the Yatagarasu has been passed down from generations to generations. Lily always wanted to be like them, to be someone that is fighting for justice and freedom. So, she decided to become the second generation of the Yatagarasu.

Instead of doing what the tale said, she decided to be like Robin Hood and steal from the rich and give it to the poor. Ofc, since she was young and albeit clumsy, she was caught multiple of times. But she was always let out, free of charges. This is bc of Ningguang, who gain a deep respect towards Lily for her actions (i believe she would respect those who wants to help the poor since i read that she suffered from poverty as well-).

News started spreading abt the Yatagarasu, who steals in the night and vanishes in the morning. It spread like wildfire abt the sudden appearance of the Yatagarasu. Lily continued her actions, believing what she’s doing is good. As much time goes on, she soon became a master of stealing things from ppl.

But soon, the ppl in Liyue Harbor protested. They wanted the Yatagarasu to disappear. As much as Ningguang wants her to stay (she pities Lily-), she had no choice but to send her away. Even tho the ppl want to know the identity of the Yatagarasu, Ningguang kept it a secret and manages to calm the ppl in Liyue Harbor.

Now on the run once more, Lily continued to flee (she continued to ran for days-) until she reaches a mansion near the river. Starving, she took some grapes but was caught by a man. This man was none other than the mansion’s owner, Diluc. Diluc noticed her immediately and ask her where she came from.

“Inazuma. But I was banished.” She simply answered. Diluc noticed how thin and frail she look, having not eaten anything ever since she run away from Liyue Harbor (imagine that long trek- yikes-). Diluc decided to take pity on this girl and offered her a place to stay in the mansion, only for a while. In which Lily immediately accepts.

Diluc gave her food and some new clothes. (Her current design is albeit similar to his actually- just wanna point it out bc i want to draw her after this- 🤧) Lily’s pale skin began to glow and the light in her eyes came back. Diluc soon discovers her ninja-like skills when she was trying to reach for the cookies in the cupboards above-

He decided to let her stay in the Dawn Winery, making her his assistant or smth. So now, Diluc has a girl who’s following around, even in Angel’s Share. Many rumors started spreading abt the sudden appearance of Lily and the sudden disappearance of money for the rich ones-

Afterall, the tale of the Yatagarasu continues on- even if she’s not seeking the truth. (Diluc knows abt her Yatagarasu identity btw- 🤧🤧 he basically becomes her older brother-)

She doesn’t have a vision btw, i’m planning on giving her a vision thru the story- 👀 i’m still debating whether or not she’s an Anemo or a Pyro-

[blackenedwhite97]

Trials ( An Erasermic x Reader Medieval AU Ch.13-14)

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

https://blackenedwhite97.tumblr.com/post/643722830321696769/trials-an-erasermic-x-reader-medieval-au

CHAPTER 13

"I grew up in the south, far, far away from here." Shouta sat down on the edge of the bed and beckoned for you to do the same. "In fact, I grew up just beyond the southern border, a little ways north of the Southern capital. My parents were wealthy and we lived in a country estate for most of my childhood. We found out about my ability very early on, I reacted instinctively to another child's flare up and quite literally doused a fire straight from their hands. I didn't know then but now that I'm older, I believe my father had an ability of his own, he and my mother used to whisper cryptically about it when they thought I was asleep."

Shouta looked ahead, his eyes watching for something far off, his hand absentmindedly snaking it's fingers through yours. You wrapped your hand around his and listened intently. He'd never spoken much about his life before Kaer Yuuei, only sparing comments here or there about how his mother would or wouldn't like something Hizashi or you were doing, or about the wild nature of his hair was his father's fault.

"We stayed away from the city as much as possible, especially as a family. My father, I remember, would travel back and forth quite a bit. I now realize it was to keep me out of as many compromising situations as possible." Shouta scratched his chin, "I remember how excited I was to get to go to a big event one summer when I was sixteen, I didn't get a whole lot of socialization outside of my family, afterall. The formalwear was itchy and hot, I remember that, the wine tasted terrible and everyone was trying to get married and engaged. It was horrendous if I'm being totally honest."

"I snuck out." Shouta sighed, as if he were confessing. "I snuck out into the gardens of the estate, a fair few of the older men had gone out to drink and smoke away from the general event. They were beyond drunk, and one of them, beyond being able to control himself. It happened quickly, I'm not entirely sure what sparked it, but words were said and offenses made and then there was lighting. A kid, maybe my age, maybe a little bit older, was lit up like a cloud in a storm." Shouta paused, grinding his teeth and taking a deep breath. "I stopped him. I stopped him, but at the cost of outing myself."

Shouta took a minute to himself, whether it was intentionally to gather himself or whether he had fallen into a deep memory, you weren't sure. You let him stay silent, you weren't sure where this was going but you could tell that every word was almost painful for him to speak. It was as if every word was hot to the touch, scalding his tongue for daring to tell the story. When he spoke again he was quieter, scared, possibly mournful.

"The event was being hosted at a very rich family's estate, House Noro." Shouta's eye twitched and his lips pursed.

Your heart sank as the realization that Shouta was about to tell you about what had brought him to Kaer Yuuei. You'd managed to grab parts of the story between Hizashi and Toshinori but they were both reluctant to speak about it fully. From what you were able to piece together, Shouta had some sort of contact with House Noro that ended violently and Hizashi happened across him on his way to Kaer Yuuie. You wrapped your free arm around Shouta's waist and pulled him close, putting your chin on his shoulder and placing a soft kiss to his temple. He leaned into you with a sigh.

"They arrested- abducted both of us that night. I was left in a cell for a few days, starved so I would be more agreeable when they eventually got around to dealing with me. As for the other kid, I heard that he was lashed to death." Shouta's hand began to tremble in yours. "They beat me, at first without any reason. I think they just wanted to ensure that I was broken in before they enslaved me. My ability, it was of interest to them. There was a man, Kozan was his name, who wanted me weaponized."

"Kozan," Shouta's nostrils flared at the name and you already had a bad taste in your mouth about him, " was the newly appointed leader of the extermination effort, as they called it. He saw what I could do and wanted to seize my ability for himself. I was the first gifted person they'd ever abducted for work, I saw a test subject for them. They used me, both for my ability and to learn how to keep other gifted people they found useful in check.

"I was toured around with them like a show horse they'd beat for jest at the end of the day. I'd learned quickly that if I did as I saw told and asked no questions that the beating would be minimal, that fighting back prolonged things. I-"

Shouta's voice cracked and he slouched forward, pulling away from you, and dropped his head into his hands.

"I would erase their abilities and let them get arrested, or beaten or-" Shouta let out a shaky breath, dripping with pain. "killed."

"Sho," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You were transported back to that night in the barn, you trembling under the realization of what you'd done. He was like you, haunted by something he had to do to survive. "they took away your choice. What you did wasn't you, it was them."

Shouta choked back a sob. You'd never seen him openly cry before and it was crushing you, like seeing your father cry. It felt world ending. He leaned back into you and let you swaddle him with your arms, breathing heavily into your chest.

"I told myself that I was only being used when the target was being violent and belligerent, that I was stopping more casualties in the long run. But then there was a kid," he breathed, eventually, "really young, maybe five or six. He was- fuck- he was so scared and I couldln't do it anymore. I lost it."

Shouta sat up and rubbed his red, swollen eyes. Looking down, he continued.

"He was like you, he could conjure things. Well, one thing, a protective bubble around himself." Shouta sniffed. "I told them that I couldn't do it, that the bubble stopped me but I knew I could. Kozan- he knew I was lying- he started to bet me right then and there. I fought back, took out four men with my bare hands before they beat me to unconsciousness. I- I still don't know what happened to that kid."

You were fighting back your own tears, the image of Shouta lying face down in the mud beaten bloody made your stomach twist up in violent knots. You looked up at his scar, remembering him running his fingers over it when Hizashi had mentioned him getting hurt very badly when you'd first met. Kozan. That name burned into your mind, a looming figure to match, a bright red target between his eyes.

'When I woke I was in the stocks," Shouta had calmed now, his voice even but a whisper, "I couldn't hold myself up."

Shouta looked behind you at Hizashi, a sudden air of relief slowly appeasing a fraction of his pain. Hizashi, you realized before Shouta even said it, had saved you both.

"That when he found me." Shouta mumbled tiredly. "Zash broke me out of those stocks in his typical clumsy fashion and whisked me away off towards salvation. He deafened a good handful of Noro footmen on the way, the first time I'd smiled in years."

"Years?" you squeaked.

"Two and half." Shouta nodded sadly.

Your lip quivered. You pressed him closer to you, you didn't know what else to do. All you had was letting him know you were there, that he wasn't there, with them, anymore. He pressed back into you, his arms snaking around your waist.

"I'm sorry." you muttered.

He didn't say anything, instead he took a deep breath and nuzzled into your hair. You stayed like that for a while, until he grew heavy on top of you and you could tell he was fighting off sleep. His eyes were drooping, heavy with tears and exhaustion. You shushed him like a mother to a child and told to rest. You promised him safety and that you'd be right next to him. He frowned, his mind already half taken by dream.

"I'm scared to lose-" he muttered, his lips barely able to part. He faded away, and you let him.

CHAPTER 14

The snow was cold against your skin, a welcomed change to the suffocating heat of Shouta's arms. You'd tried to stay in bed, tired to find sleep but your heart was beating so ferociously you could feel it in every part of your body. Even now, your ears were still red hot. The wintery chill had once against offered you reprieve of searing panic, as it seeped into you the panic left. As you crunched through the snow, following your sporadic tracks from earlier, you tried to reign in your thoughts.

You saw Shouta covered in blood, bruised face and broken will. You saw the embers that glowed on the ashened remains of the annihilated village like Kaer Yuuie to the south. You saw the man at your door, the knife in his hand, the sickening grin he'd had as he threatened you. You saw a child, scared and crying, surrounded by the only protection he could muster. You saw Kirishima, the kid who always smiled at you when you walked in the gates and the rows of gifted art from students that Hizashi hung up in the apartment. You saw a looming figure clad in black armour, no face, no soul, a glowing read target between his eyes.

You stumbled against a solid surface that had risen in front of your feet, and tumbled forward hard. You landed at the steps of the hall, your palms bruising on the stone. You looked up frustrated and ready to accost the building for getting in your way when you saw that the door still cracked open and a dull light flickering inside. Now that you weren't being consumed entirely by your thought you realized that you were shivering, the heat of anxiety had worn thin and you had vernuted out into the snow without your coat and your body was beginning to notice. You pushed yourself up and laboured up the stairs, your knees sore from your tumble.

You slipped in the doorway and looked around the dully lit chamber to see who'd left the door ajar. The hall stretched out before you, far emptier than it had been earlier that night. A lone figure, broad and inhumanly large sat on what used to be a throne, hunched forward head in his hands. You recognized that stressed position immediately, he often sat like that when vital councils were called. Toshinori would sit like that quietly, listening carefully to what everyone had to say with his eyes closed, massaging circles into his eyes soken with his palms. You thought about turning around, going back into the cold but the door had different plans and a powerful gust of wind shook it in it's frame and started Toshinori. He looked up, bleary eyed.

"Ah," he cleared his throat. "Y/n. Come in, it's freezing out."

"Thanks." you smiled politely and scutteled farther into the hall, away from the howling wind and blowing snow.

"Why are you up and walking around at this hour?" He asked, sitting up in his seat. Genuine concern marked his features, he'd be thinking about you when you walked in. You could feel it.

"Couldn't sleep." you said, hoping he'd leave it at that. But of course, he was a good man.

"Are you scared?' He asked grimly. "You're safe here."

Embers and ash filled your minds in a hot white flash and suddenly you felt anger. Anger or fear. You couldn't tell.

"For how long? Until they find us and burn this place down like they did in the south?" You snapped.

"This place is different, Y/n. We're better prepared, we're already better defended." Toshinori's voice remained calm, soothing almost. You felt more frustrated by it.

"What if they find it? What if my necklace- if I led them close enough that they sniff us out?" You felt angry tears pricking at the edges of your vision.

"Like I said, we're prepared-"

"What if we aren't!" You interrupted. Your voice was louder than you'd meant it to be, emotion taking control.

"We are." Toshinori stood, his voice stern but no louder than before. He walked down the single step down towards you. The closer he got the more imposing he felt, it was a side effect of his size. You were reminded, looking up at him that he was in fact a Lord and you needed to control yourself. You wiped your tears away and took a breath before speaking again, this thought had been ever creeping forward from the back of your mind you saw the necklace.

"I need to leave." you sniffed, calmer now. "I could make some noise and lead them away."

"No." Toshiori didn't hesitate. His hands clasped down on your shoulders gently. "I'm not sending you out there to get hurt."

"You have to do what's right from you people, Toshinori." you tried to sound reasonable even though you weren't sure you really wanted this either. "They can't hunt or travel outside the walls and they'll begin to suffer for it! You can't expect people to stay-"

"You're my people." Toshinori interrupted you, his calm demeanor shaken. "I will not sacrifice one of my own."

"It's my choice!" You snapped, pulling away from him. It scared the hell out of you but the fact that Toshinori wouldn't even consider your plan- accept your help, enraged you.

"Everyone knows what it means to be out there, Y/n. No one here wants to feed you to the hounds even if it means a quick fix!" Toshinori was gritting his teeth and balling his fists at his side.

"It's not about want, it's about need." Toshinori was a good man and he was kind but that would be the death of him and, if he continued to think like this, his people. "You have to make this decision for you people, not your own sterling morality!"

"You are my people!" He bellowed, stepping forward and reaching out for you. He stopped short, pulling away and sighing. He was already feeling guilty for his outburst. When he spoke again it was in a quieter, stern voice, an air of finality to it you'd never heard him speak with before. "I will not send one of my own to die because the rest of us have to deal with some restlessness for a while. Your life is worth more than that, every life is worth more than that. I'm not trying to save you, Y/n L/n, I'm trying to save one of my people. Letting you be a pawn is as good as telling everyone else they are pawns, and I am not and will not be that kind of Lord."

You were stunned. Stunned at his honesty, stunned at his calm, stunned at your own insolence, and stunned at his refusal to make the strategic decision. He was both the best and the worst Lord you ever lived under. He was kind and just to his people but he wasn't willing to make the hard decisions his position forced him into. If he waited any longer for a council to make a plan then House Noro was going to be sieging the fortress in the blink of an eye and this haven he'd built would be reduced to ashes. If Toshinori couldn't make this decision then Shouta would have to face the Noros again and it would break him.

You were silent, the duality of resenting Toshinori's words and guilting over your unearned resentment tearing into you. He was doing the best he could, the best he knew how to. It just wasn't good enough. Not now.

"Go home." Toshinori broke the tense silence. "Go home to your family. Let me worry about this, this isn't all on you. It was your necklace, yes, but it could have been anyone else's personal belonging. This isn't on you."

You nodded. He was wrong, or course. He was trying to be kind, hell, he could actually believe what he was telling you. You had killed the young Lord Bennett, sicked the Noro hounds on yourself, led them to your necklace that they were now using to track you and therefore the fortress. Sure, it'd been retrieved but they were already here, coming to the valleys and soon to be hiking up the mountain sides. The best course of action was the one you'd been trying to convince yourself of this whole time.

You hugged yourself close and strode out into the snowy night, your footprints slowly filling in behind you. You could feel Toshinori watching you walk down the road, the image of his tired, worried eyes nagging your resolution. You wanted to believe him, you really did. It wasn't his fault that this was happening, it wasn't his fault that you were a carrier of misfortune. You had to do this for him, make this decision.

You were sure. You were absolutely sure, your resolve had never been stronger. Then you opened the door to your home, Hizashi and Shouta draped over each other. Their faces were angelic in the low like, soft and serene. Hizashi's hair made a flaxen halo that encased them both, you picture wings sprouting from their backs. You hadn't been a religious woman in the traditional sense for many years, not since your parents had died really, but you still firmly believed in the idea of guardian angels. How could you not when you were looking at yours now. Fear welled up in you. You were going to lose them either way, at least this way they wouldn't be lost to House's Noro's blade. At least this way they could tell themselves that you left them, that you picked up and moved on. At least this way they wouldn't be looking their final moments in the eyes knowing that you'd brought death upon them. No, this was better, you reassured yourself.

You had to tear your eyes away from them, every fiber of your being begging to crawl into the bed with them and let their arms envelop you like they did every night. You wanted to at least touch them, give them farewell kisses on their foreheads and tell them you loved them and watched as their sleeping faces grew grins. But you knew that if you did that you would melt into them and stay the night and in the morning all of your will power would be gone. So instead you turned to the writing desk and scribbled 'I'm sorry' and ' I love you', you knew it wouldn't help them in the slightest when they woke up to find you gone but it wasn't for them. It was your last selfish act, you had to let them know that you loved them more deeply than you'd ever loved before. That was for you. They would still have each other.

It was as if you'd faded into your body and let instinct take over from there on out, you packed a bag with rations and winter clothes and dressed in the bare minimum you thought you'd need to stay light on your feet. It was surreal to see what your body knew how to do on instinct, it knew how quiet to be, where to find supplies and how softly to shut the door. It knew what shadows to keep to and what areas of wall were sometimes looked over in patrol, it knew when to flatten against walls to hide and when to dart across open spaces as quickly as possible. It even knew how long of a rope to conjure to scale down the side of the outer fortress wall and how little time you would have to dart into the heavy tree line before someone saw you.

[pomeqraniqht]

Random Character Development Questions meme: ALL OF THEM for Sofia (revenge!!)

001. When is their birthday?      June 5th.  002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?      Depending on the verse she’ll go out with her friends or her Aunt will take her on a vacation or something.  003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?      Sofia likes both equally, tea more in Autumn though for some odd reason.  004. Do they prefer being alone or with others?      Sofia does NOT do well on her own AT ALL. She definitely needs a healthy ecosystem of people to survive.  005. Are they in good health?      Sofia under-eats at times and others she starves herself to fill her mother’s outlandish ideas for body image. So no, she isn’t.  006. What sense do they most rely on?      People’s approval.. whether it is at work or in relationships.  007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist?      Both at times it depends on which mind-set she is in.  008. What is their favorite fairy tale?      Cinderella.  009. Do they believe in happy endings?      Yes even if time and again she’s been proven they aren’t real.  010. Do they believe in love at first sight?      Yes and no. Sofia’s so hateful to herself she believes in it for everyone else EXCEPT herself.  011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?      Carefully and with love, Sofia would honestly do anything and be anything for them.  012. What makes your character embarrassed?      LITERALLY EVERYTHING! 013. Have they ever been bullied or teased?      Too many times in her life.  014. Detail one secret shame your character feels.      Sofia hates her stretch marks and wishes she could have them removed forever. 015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?      Fists. She’s tiny but mighty! 016. What is their choice of weapon?      Whatever is the closest option? 017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?      When someone is trying to hurt someone they love/robbery/self defense. 018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?      Cry. 019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?      Invisibility. 020. What are their hobbies?      Sofia enjoys reading, listening to music, baking/cooking, swimming, and buying face masks. 021. How do they display affection?      Cooking food and sweets for the ones she loves. 022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?      Verse dependent as par usual but for this one I would say: the forest they got married, Roman, Stella, and Rusty the day he was discharged 90 days sober. 023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically?      Eyes...and tattoos. 024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?      Nothing! Sofia finds everyone beautiful (but honestly it’s dental hygiene.) 025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise?      Kindness and understanding. 026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?      Hatred. 027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?      Eating sweets without gaining weight with the person she loves. 028. What makes them laugh out loud?      Tickles. She’s extremely ticklish. 029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have?      Sweet and dark. 030. Do they believe in the afterlife?      Yes, she visits her father’s grave often and speaks to him. 031. Are they superstitious about anything?      Breaking mirrors and Friday the 13th. 032. Does your character believe in ghosts?      Yes. 033. Do they keep their promises?      Yes. 034. What’s their view of lying?      Death penalty. 035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?      Treat others how you wish to be treated. 036. How honorable is your character?      Extremely unless she’s in the shower or bathtub with a certain someone. 037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do?      Absolutely not!  038. What bad habits do they have?      Weighing herself constantly and hiding beneath baggy clothes. 039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?      Cheating. 040. What is their obsession?      Face skin care. 041. Are they comfortable with technology?      Yes. 042. What is their greatest achievement?      Graduating college with a teaching degree. 043. What will they stand up for?      Justice for abuse victims. 044. What disgusts them?      Worms. 045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?      No. 046. How do they handle getting sick?      Not well, she’s a little bit of a baby. 047. What was the last medical problem your character had?      On record/cannon it was a car accident while she was about 7 months pregnant with her second child. 048. Do they have any allergies?      Yes, to Bullshit.  049. How does your character feel about growing old?      Indifferent. 050. How does your character feel about their own mortality?      Everyday is a blessing.  051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today?      Go find Rusty Parker and spend every minute with him telling him to be happy, to stay away from drugs, and to be strong for their kids.  052. What is your character’s worst flaw?      Her insecurities.  053. What is your character’s greatest strength?      Her cooking skill. 054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind?      No. 055. Is your character an introvert or an extrovert?      She’s an introvert but with her friends she’s a happy medium. 056. Has your character ever struck someone in anger?      Yes. 057. Has your character ever killed anyone?      Not yet. 058. What is your character’s idea of a perfect day?      Pancakes and sex. 059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up?      ‘Goodness me, oh my god, are you serious? Baby...and c’mere’ - several places. 060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?      If you want a better life a degree certainly helps but education should NOT cost you your life to be able to afford it.  061. Does your character prefer adventure or safety and security?      A healthy dosage of both. 062. What sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?      A kind one.  063. How well does your character handle difficult people?      Not well.  064. In what ways does your character annoy others?      Constantly needing he be reassured she’s wanted. 065. Is your character better at leading or following? Which do they prefer?      Neither? She just wants to let someone else handle it all. 066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?      Out in nature. 067. Does your character believe in fate or destiny?      Both, extremely so.  068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it?      Sofia is extremely responsible, she loves kids and wants a big family some day. Her job, her aunt, her relationships.  069. What about your character is heroic?      She’s a survivor of mental and physical abuse. 070. What about your character is cowardly?      She won’t acknowledge her eating problems.  071. How kind is your character?      Would rip her heart out and give it to someone if they needed it.  072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)      A wizard, duh. She’s magic.  073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.)      The main character.  074. What is your character’s favorite game?      Monopoly. 075. Is your character ticklish?      EXTREMELY! 076. How do they express anger?      Tears and yelling.  077. How often do they cry? Over what?      1 week out of the month and literally anything.  078. How emotionally stable is your character?      Depends on the day, we’re either 2009 Britney or Kamala Harris.. it’s never in the middle.  079. How easy is it for them to read the emotions of others?      Good and bad sometimes. 080. How easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions?      It’s like a two way mirror.  081. Is your character religious?      No. 082. What are your character’s sleeping preferences?      All the time.  083. What is the first thing they say and/or do when they wake up?      Go potty and brush their teeth. 084. Describe your character in one word.      sunshine.  085. Describe your character in three words.      Sweet, soft, adorable.  086. How would your character describe themself in one word?      Ugly. 087. How would your character describe themself in three words?      Smart, fat, awkward. 088. Is your character quiet or loud?      Yes. 089. How vocally expressive is your character?      Very. 090. How bodily expressive is your character?      Not at all. 091. What type of music does your character like?      Literally anything.  092. What emotion does your character evoke in others?      Happiness? I think?  093. What is your character’s goal in life?      To be a professor at a college.  094. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know.      How to deliver a baby, how to do stitches, and how to bake a turkey.  095. Name three things most would not expect your character to be able to do.      Fix a broken boy, kill her mother, and have a baby without pain medicine.  096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?     Sofia’s a shy little bean who honestly just walks around smiling even when she’s broken inside.  097. How well do they adapt to change?      It takes her a long time to get used to somethings but others its easy.  098. Does your character like animals?      Yes! 099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?      Absolutely.  100. Does your character dream? If so, what do they dream about?      the happily ever after.

[chiaki-translation]

Luminous Circus: Event Translation Ch9-10

I deliver~ Made it in time before the JP announcement too, I figured I need to do this before I got distracted by Glitter Kazu (because I totally will). The Epilogue will be out in an hour or so too because I need to stare at some of the Kanji that I had a hard time with...

But last 2 chapters of course will be another freakishly long play~ Well, this one actually not as long as Stray Devil Blues and Magician so I’m quite fine with it. Translation under the cut, without further ado, enjoy~

Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber Entertainment

Translator’s Note: I don’t think they mentioned the role before the play, but Homare is playing George the Troupe Leader, Kazunari is playing Tim the Clown, Muku is playing Nick the Animal Tamer, Sakuya is playing Will the Trapeze Artist.

Takao:

My lady—You have received an invitation letter.

Homare’s Grandmother:

An invitation?

“Amore~ Continue your memory to make it eternal…”

…Such an awkward child.

Same as that person though.

We’re going out tonight.

Please prepare to take out the car.

Takao:

Understood.

<Shifts to Backstage>

Homare:

--Ah, the unforeseen heat shook the air.

It’s now or never, it’s time to light the core of this theatre--!

Director:

!? What happened, Homare-san!?

Homare:

What is it?

I’m just reciting my poem as per usual.

Director:

No matter how I look at it, that’s not the usual thing.

Sakuya:

It’s my first time that I actually understand the meaning of Homare’s poem!

Muku:

Me too!

It clearly conveys the atmosphere of the stage right before the performance and it’s wonderful!

Kazunari:

Ooh! Is it Aririn’s new style!?

Homare:

Hmm, it seems that the costume’s button is misplaced.

Director:

… Homare-san, are you maybe feeling nervous?

Homare:

I don’t know such thing like nervousness. My heart just beat slightly faster and it’s affecting my behaviour, that’s all.

Director:

Isn’t that basically being nervous…

Kazunari:

It’s unusual for Aririn to be nervous.

Sakuya:

Is there anything happening today?

Homare:

It’s nothing, it’s just the usual, a general performance day that’s unchanging.

Director:

(The longer this conversation goes, the weirder it gets…)

…Ah, by the way, the invitation ticket that we gave Homare’s grandmother is for the first day right.

Muku:

Is it because your grandmother will be coming?

Homare:

What did you say. There’re grandmothers around on every performance of ours aren’t they.

See, over there too, here too, that side too, on top of your head too--

Sakuya:

There’s no such place!

Homare:

(He’s really nervous…)

Kazunari:

Aririn, relax!

Come, let’s gather around!

Homare:

Ye, yeah!

Kazunari:

Since it’s circus, let’s all raise our hands to form a circus tent--

Homare:

It’s really nice and artistic!

Kazunari:

Right!

Muku:

The cheers from the troupe leader please!

Homare:

Hmm! Then, for the sake of the audience’s smile—

Luminous Circus Troupe, let’s go!

Kazunari:

Oh!

Sakuya:

Oh!

Muku:

Let’s go!

Director:

Do your best!

Homare:

Yes. I’ll be going first, Director-kun.

Director:

(He’s completely back to his usual self and he looks calm now.

I’m so glad!)

<Shifts to Audience’s Seat>

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

<Shifts to Circus’ Backstage>

George:

Hey hey, you! Have you perfected the preparation for tonight’s show!?

Will:

That’s impossible, Leader! Look at this, this swing! The handles are gone and it’s impossible to hang it now.

George:

There’s no problem. Just hang it with a rope and it should be fine! Oh yeah, I’ve decided that the program name will be “The Jungle’s Tarzan Show”!

Will:

I’m a trapeze artist! Not a Tarzan!

Nick:

Anyway, we don’t even have one animal around.

How do you expect us to hold a show?

George:

I’ve thought of a solution for that. Use this!

Nick:

Animal mascot…?

George:

Tim, you’ll become the elephant. Will will become the lion.

Nick:

Such a childish trick, will this kind of thing be able to convince the audiences!?

Tim:

George, the big ball has cracks too, I won’t be able to ride on it.

George:

Then, Will, you’ll play as the big ball!

Will:

Stop with your bullshit already!

Director:

(Everyone looks calm.

You can tell that they’re having fun, I can’t help but to have fun over here too.)

<Shifts to Circus’ Stage>

Tim:

“Paoooon”

(TLN: That’s the elephant sound in Japan.)

Will:

“Garurururu!”

Audience A:

What kind of trick is that!

Audience B:

Return us our money!

Audience A:

You’re just making fool of the audiences!

Audience B:

I’ll never come back here again!

George:

Please wait a minute.

There will be a big guest after this--

Audience:

I’m going home!

Nick:

Ha…

Will:

I wonder if I should have roared louder…

Tim:

I don’t think that’s the problem.

George:

Rejoice everyone!

After the arrival of our big guest, we will have a lot of audiences pouring in!

Then that way, we can fix the swing, even getting an animal for the show!

Nick:

That big guest of yours, when will he be coming?

Will:

It’s been a long time since the performance negotiation.

George:

He’ll come soon!

I’ve already paid the performance fee too!

Nick:

From the beginning, why would a famous person who has been appearing in multiple TV shows agreed to perform in such a small circus troupe like ours.

Will:

Wait… Did you just get scammed!?

George:

That, cannot be!

Nick:

You just used all the money we worked hard for just to get scammed, what are we going to do from now on!?

Will:

We can’t do show anymore, we don’t have any money, isn’t this the end of our troupe!

George:

Ah, calm down! If it’s the guest, he will arrive tomorrow!

It’s already late today. Let’s have dinner, rest, and prepare for tomorrow!

Tim:

George, we don’t even have money for food.

Homare:

What are you saying. There should be enough from today’s ticket sale--

Tim:

I’ve been flooded with request for refund. So everything’s gone.

Will:

Eh!

Nick:

No way~!

George:

Everyone, not to worry! If that’s the case, I have an idea!

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Director:

(Homare’s grandmother doesn’t change her expression much, I can’t tell what she’s thinking…

But she looks like she’s actually enjoying the show.)

<Shifts to Monastery>

Sister:

Next person please.

May God bless you all.

Nick:

Leader’s idea is, to get the food ration from the monastery…?

Will:

So today’s dinner will be a bowl of potato soup…

Tim:

Most probably tomorrow too.

Nick:

Ha~…

George:

We should be able to get good food tomorrow due to the arrival of the guest.

Let’s just rest our stomach today with this.

Will:

Leader, I wonder where does your positive attitude come from.

Nick:

I’m so jealous.

<Shifts to Circus Outdoor>

George:

Oh?

Baby:

Gyaa, gyaa.

Will:

A baby!? Why is he in this kind of place--

Tim:

It seems to be an abandoned child.

George:

He’ll get cold if he stays in this place. Let’s bring him inside!

<Shifts to Circus’ Backstage>

Baby:

Gyaa, gyaa.

Nick:

Is he feeling hungry? Or is he feeling unwell?

George:

There there.

Will:

Isn’t it better for us to start looking for his mother?

Tim:

It’s no use. A mother who left him in such a place, she’ll just leave him behind in another place afterwards.

Nick:

Then, what should we do?

Tim:

I guess we have no choice but to leave him with the orphanage.

It seems that the monastery over there also functions as an orphanage…

Baby:

Bwee…

George:

Look at him, he’s smiling!

Will:

So he was just cold.

George:

Let’s use this child for tightrope walk!

His face looks like a face of a good tightrope walker!

Nick:

What kind of face is that.

Tim:

From the beginning, we can’t afford to feed him.

We don’t have money to buy milk.

Will:

You’re right, we can’t even feed ourselves.

George:

Not to worry, after the guest arrive tomorrow, you want one or two babies, even 50 babies will not be a problem.

Tim:

George, we don’t know yet whether the guest will actually come tomorrow.

Are you planning to starve the baby to death?

George:

But…

Baby:

Fuee, fuee.

Nick:

There there, you’re so cute.

This child reminds me of Leo’s kid.

Will:

Don’t make it sounds like he’s a lion’s child.

George:

Hey, it’s not a good idea to bring him out again at this timing, why don’t we keep him here for today.

Tim:

How about the money to buy milk?

George:

That, that… I know!

We just need to pawn this stick!

Tim:

George, isn’t that an important stuff that you received when you become the troupe leader.

George:

What about it. I’ll get it back soon, no worries.

<Time Skip>

Baby:

Zzz, zzz…

George:

There there.

Nick:

Leader!

George:

What happened? Has the guest arriv--

Nick:

The lion, Leo, has returned!

George:

What?

Tim:

No, rather than return, it’s more correct to say that the animal mascot has become a real lion.

Nick:

There’re elephants also!

Will:

The swing handles and the big ball too, it seems everything’s fixed! It’s a miracle!

George:

What!?

Tim:

By the way, there’s still no sign of the guest coming at all.

George:

That’s weird, he should be arriving soon…

Will:

Well, it doesn’t matter anymore!

Nick:

You’re right, we can do the show with these!

Let’s start the preparation for the show now!

<Shifts to Circus’ Stage>

George:

Then, the first appearance will be of a brilliant dancer in the sky, let’s welcome our trapeze artist, Will!

Will:

Ha!

Audience A:

Woah!

Audience B:

Amazing! He can make a full turn from such a high place!

Audience C:

It’s like he’s actually born with a wing on his back!

Director:

(Since Sakuya-kun said he wanted to do circus, it seems that he has been learning a lot from Misumi-kun. He really practiced hard and the result is showing properly.)

George:

Our next performance, the clown, Tim!

Kazunari:

Hyoitto.

Audience A:

That clown is juggling while riding the ball!

Audience B:

It’s like the ball is his feet itself.

Audience C:

If you say that, the thrown ball looks like it’s being sucked back straight to his hands.

Director:

(Kazunari-kun, as expected, is really dexterous with his hand.

He fits the role of the easygoing Tim perfectly, the way he casually supports the lead, George, also fits him.)

George:

The next one will be our animal tamer, Nick and Leo the lion!

Lion:

Roar!

Nick:

Let’s go, Leo!

Audience A:

Woah! It jumped through the ring!

Audience B:

He really tamed the lion well.

Director:

(Muku-kun looks so alive.

He really fits well with a fantasy like world like this.)

George:

Thank you for coming!

We look forward to your next visit!

Audience A:

That was fun~!

Audience B:

I want to watch again!

Nick:

Yes, it was a great success!

Will:

With this we will be able to afford dinner today!

George:

That’s amazing, Will.

Even though you haven’t been practicing so much.

Will:

I feel that my body was so light today as if a magic was casted on me!

Tim:

Nick too, to be able to put such performance on a short notice.

Nick:

Well, me too actually, I feel like the animal suddenly understand my words and they did the tricks so smoothly.

Tim:

I also feel like that, it’s like I don’t even need to balance myself on the big ball, the juggling balls too, they came back to my hands wherever I threw them to.

George:

As if a magic spell has been casted huh.

Baby:

Fuee, fuee.

Nick:

Ah, is it going to be time for milk soon?

George:

I see! Surely, this child is a messenger of good luck!

This child has brought good luck for us!

Tim:

Cannot be…

Will:

But, it’s true that it’s only after this child arrives…

Nick:

That means, it’s actually true…?

George:

There’s no mistake!

Baby:

Fugyaa, fugyaa.

Tim:

Anyway, let’s just give him his milk first, George.

Director:

(More than anything else, Homare-san’s George is… A bit direct and straightforward, but you can’t hate him. It fits Homare-san perfectly.

I feel that their warm feelings, of wanting to entertain the audiences, of wanting to entertain Homare’s grandmother too, are being conveyed properly.)

<End of Chapter 9>

Passerby A:

If I had to choose, of course it has to be the Luminous Circus Troupe!

Passerby B:

You’re right, they really perform like magic!

It’s definitely worth watching at least once!

Mogiri:

Today’s same day performance ticket is sold out~!

Passerby C:

Eh~! Even thought I want to watch it!

Suspicious Man:

…Luminous Circus Troupe?

That shabby and worn-out circus troupe?

<Shifts to Circus’ Backstage>

George:

Behold, there are requests for performance coming from everywhere!

As I thought, it’s thanks to this child!

Will:

With this, we don’t need to be worried that we’ll have nothing to eat tomorrow.

Nick:

The Luminous Circus Troupe is now safe!

Tim:

It will be great if things stay this way.

George, have you secured the big guest?

George:

We don’t need him anymore!

As long as this child is here, everything will go well!

Tim:

Are you sure it’s fine?

George:

Of course, Tim.

You would also oppose the idea of relying on a guest right.

Tim:

That’s true, but there won’t be any change like this--

George:

Hmm? Did you say something.

Tim:

…Nothing.

Baby:

*Smile--

George:

There there. Up high!

Suspicious Man:

…

<Shifts to Circus’ Stage>

Nick:

Huh? The baby’s not here?

Will:

That’s weird. He was sleeping over here not so long ago.

Lion:

Growl.

Nick:

Hmm? What is it, Leo.

Will:

I wonder if Leader took him somewhere.

Lion:

Growl.

Nick:

Leo seems to be a bit unsettled. Something might had happened.

Will:

Isn’t he just a bit hungry.

Nick:

But, he’s growling towards that direction over there.

Will:

Over there?

Nick:

Ah! The window over there!

Suspicious Man:

…

Will:

Who is it, he--

Nick:

He had the baby with him!

Will:

Eh!?

Nick:

Is it a kidnapper!?

What to do, we have to hurry up and chase him!

Will:

It will be faster if I use the swing to go there!

<Shifts to Circus Outdoor>

Will:

Hey, wait!

Suspicious Man:

!?

Will:

Return the baby!

Nick:

Get him, Will!

Leo, block the exit!

Lion:

Roar!

Suspicious Man:

Ugh…!

George:

What is happening over here?

Tim:

What kind of commotion is this?

Nick:

Ah, Leader!

That man over there is trying to kidnap the baby!

George:

What!?

Tim:

Let’s catch him!

Will:

Just stay still!

Suspicious Man:

Damn it!

George:

Uhh, he ran away.

Nick:

But, I’m glad the baby is safe.

Will:

Regardless, why would he even try to kidnap the baby in the first place?

Nick:

Maybe, he’s the baby’s father?

Tim:

No, that face, I feel that I’ve seen him in a different circus troupe before.

Most probably, he heard about our recent successes and realized that this child is the secret behind it.

George:

The secret, you’re referring to this child being the messenger of good luck?

Tim:

Yeah.

Will:

That means, he’s going to be targeted again?

Tim:

That, if people know that he can bring in a lot of money, there bound to be some people out there who will want to get hold of him.

Nick:

Isn’t that bad! We have to be even more careful from now on!

George:

…

Will:

We have to keep an eye on the baby, Leader!

George:

…

Nick:

Leader?

George:

Eh!? Ah, uh, yeah, that’s right, let’s do that.

Tim:

…

<Shifts to Circus’ Backstage>

Baby:

Zzz…

Nick:

Leader, it’s time to change. Please get some sleep.

Will:

We will take over from here.

George:

Ah, yeah.

Will, Nick, what do you think of the recent Luminous Circus Troupe.

Nick:

What I think…

Will:

Isn’t it great.

Everyday’s full with everyone’s appreciation and the audiences seem to enjoy themselves.

Nick:

Yep yep.

George:

Nick, about Leo, I’m sorry.

Nick:

No… I was shocked when I heard about Leo, but there’s nothing we can do about it.

At that point, we also had a lot of trouble with Leo’s food.

Will:

What happened, Leader. Why do you make such face.

Luminous Circus Troupe finally return to its previous state, aren’t you supposed to be more excited?

Nick:

Right. You said it yourself, we were going to call the big guest in and make a comeback right.

We were scammed by the big guest, but the result is still the same.

George:

Yeah, you’re right…

Will:

You don’t need to worry anymore. Even when we don’t practice, the show will still go well, the audiences are pretty happy too.

Nick:

Yep yep. As long as this child is here, the Luminous Circus Troupe is safe!

George:

…

The two of you, I will look after this child tonight.

Please sleep so you can prepare for tomorrow’s show.

Nick:

Eh, are you sure?

Will:

Please be really careful.

Call us if anything happened!

<Shifts to Monastery>

Sister:

…I understand the situation.  I’ll take over from here.

George:

Thank you so much.

Sister:

May God bless you and this child.

Baby:

Zzz…

George:

…

<Shifts to Circus Outdoor>

Tim:

George.

George:

!! Tim, why are you here…

Tim:

I just have a feeling you’ll be here.

George:

It’s as you said.

It was wrong from the beginning to rely on something else.

…Tim, do you remember the time when you entered this circus troupe?

Tim:

Yeah. We were both the clown’s apprentice, I couldn’t even perform one thing right at that time.

George:

At that time, I couldn’t help but to think that the practices and shows were fun. Everyday was like a festival on its own.

I love the circus troupe that puts a smiling face on everyone, including the troupe members and the audiences.

But, I wonder when.

I started to become so fixated on money…

I want that child to return to his normal life and live happily. I even involved him in such a dangerous situation. This should be the best for him.

Tim:

If that’s what Leader decides, I have nothing against it.

George:

…Thank you, Tim. I wonder if Will and Nick will be angry.

Tim:

Everyone knows that George is only thinking for the best of the Luminous Circus Troupe.

George:

Yeah…

<Shifts to Circus’ Backstage>

Nick:

Woah! Leader, bad news! The animals have turned into mascots--!

Will:

The swing is in shambles!

Nick:

Eh!? Where’s the baby!?

George:

I’m sorry, by the time I realized, he’s gone.

Nick:

Eh!? By gone you mean…

Will:

I thought we told you to watch over him yesterday night!

George:

I’m sorry.

Will:

We have to hurry and find him!

Tim:

It’s impossible now isn’t it.

Nick:

No way--!

<Shifts to Circus’ Stage>

Director:

(For the Luminous Circus Troupe who had lost its magic, they have no choice but to showcase a poor looking performance, similar to what they had before…)

Audience A:

Get lost!

Audience B:

Return our money!

Audience C:

I’m not going to come again!

Will:

…

Nick:

…

George:

Everyone, it’s too bad today!

There’s still tomorrow, if we just change our mindset--

Nick:

Stop it.

George:

Eh!?

Nick:

There’s no animal here, I can’t perform.

Will:

Me too, without the swings, I can’t fly.

I can’t follow you anymore, Leader.

Nick:

Excuse me.

George:

The two of you—

Uh…

Naturally, this is the result…

To think that I’ll be the last leader of the Luminous Circus troupe…

Past Troupe Leader:

Everyone, behold! The next one will be a beautiful show in the sky!

George:

!?

Th, that is…?

It can’t be, that senior shouldn’t be here anymore--

Past Troupe Leader:

Next will be the best tamer!

Lion:

Roar!

Audience A:

Woah!

Audience B:

Amazing!

Past Troupe Leader:

George, Tim! Hurry and bring in the props!

Past George:

Yes!

George:

--

Right, I couldn’t do anything back then.

Nothing at all… It doesn’t change now.

I guess, it’s a good time to start over from the beginning.

Director:

(In the end, George is filled with such humanity, his regrets and longing, the feelings are properly conveyed.

Homare-san said that he cannot understand people’s feelings properly, but that’s not the case at all. Otherwise, he won’t able to play George with such emotion, it’s so fascinating and we’re all pulled towards his performance.)

Tim:

George? So you’re here?

George:

Tim! Look, the seniors from the past are over there--!

Tim:

Seniors from the past? What are you talking about?

George:

--

Just now, the Luminous Circus Troupe from the past was just there—

Nevermind, it’s nothing.

Tim:

?

George:

Can you help me call Nick and Will over.

I want to try talking to them again.

Director:

(George called Will and Nick over to talk and settle the situation, he has decided to start over from the beginning.)

<Shifts to Monastery>

Director:

(And then, time passed--)

Grown Baby:

Hey hey, there’s a circus troupe coming to this town!

Sister:

Oh, it’s been a while. It’s been around 10 years I guess.

Grown Baby:

I haven’t been born at that time.

Sister:

You’re right, maybe it’s when you were just a little baby.

Grown Baby:

I’m looking forward to it. I heard it’s a circus troupe that shows a magic like illusion.

Children:

Hey, the circus car is here!

Grown Baby:

Really!? I want to see!

Director:

(In the midst of the children’s laughter, the Luminous Circus Troupe once again set up their circus tent…)

<Shifts to Mankai Stage>

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Director:

(Homare-san’s feelings, I’m pretty sure it’s conveyed properly to his grandmother.)

Kazunari:

Thank you!

Sakuya:

Thank you so much!

Muku:

Thank you so much!

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Thank you.

Homare:

--

Thank you so much.

<Shifts to Lobby>

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Director:

Arisugawa-san!

Homare’s Grandmother:

--

Director:

Do you want to meet Homare-san?

I’m sure he wants to hear your impression.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…I’ll tell him when he comes home.

Otherwise, he won’t come home at all.

My daughter is always lonely.

Even though he used to come home often.

That’s all, I had fun here.

Director:

I’ll tell Homare-san just that.

Homare’s Grandmother:

Please do so.

Then, I’ll take my leave--

Homare:

Grandmother!

Homare’s Grandmother:

--If you want my impression, I’ll tell you at home.

Homare:

Please wait a minute.

This--

Homare’s Grandmother:

A watch?

Homare:

I haven’t thanked you for the pocket watch yet.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare:

Thank you for giving me your memorable item from grandfather.

Since then, it won’t move no matter how much I tried to fix it.

Homare’s Grandmother:

I see.

Are you going to dispose it?

Homare:

No. Even thought it has stopped moving, this watch is full of a lot of important memories.

Grandfather’s feelings, grandmother’s feelings, and after that, the feelings of my comrades from this theatre troupe…

Even if it’s just a junk who can’t fulfill its role as a watch, it’s not something that I don’t need anymore.

That’s what I learned from this theatre troupe.

In the end what I received is a place that I love, just like this watch.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Treasure it properly.

Homare:

Yes.

Thank you so much for today.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare:

Eh…

Grandmother just now… you smiled!

It’s an important moment, one that I haven’t seen in ten years!

Director:

That’s more important than any impression right.

Homare:

Yes!

<End of Chapter 10>

[evabellasworld]

I Give You My Heart

Chapter 11

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

——————————————————————————————

Summary:  When Riyo Chuchi’s life was threatened, Commander Fox and Jedi Knight Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young are assigned to bring the senator back to her home planet Pantora, where she will be safe from harm. But when the assassin knows her whereabouts, it’s up to Fox, Lira, Eva, and Riyo to work together and stop the assassin.

————————————————————————————

Kicking the grille with both her feet, Eva landed in an empty corridor, which was lit in red lights. With her surgical face mask on to shield her from smoke, she placed her soggy palms on the hilt of her lightsaber as she tiptoed like a mouse, hoping not to scare off the assassin.

She could sense his presence surrounding her, but it would only be a matter of time before he revealed himself. This wasn’t the first time that she had to deal with a bounty hunter, and unlike her last encounter, Eva discovered their tactics through her readings in the library.

Assassins are proficient in stealth, as they often use various skills to take a life within a flash, without getting caught. One of their prowess is their speed. Having the capability to dash like Hermes is the most important way for an assassin to dodge from the crime scene they have created. If they’re not swift enough, then their whole operation will crumble like an anthill. If they succeed, however, then they get paid, big time.

Another important technique that an assassin has to master is their method of killing. Some assassins rely on their trusty sniper rifle to slay their victims. It is the fastest method, according to Eva, but they needed to have a good aim since they had only one shot. If they aimed crudely, they would be exposed. There are also assassins who are more subtle, which is much more deadly than the first one.

This certain type of assassin would utilise their charisma and wits to lure their prey into a trap. They can blend in perfectly well with the crowd. For all Eva sees, the assassin could be her neighbours, a friend, or even a sweet old lady who smiled at you in the hoverbus. Eva’s arms trembled whenever she had to head to the city to run some errands.

The world is a treacherous place and not everyone has good intentions, especially people like the Trade Federation, who piled up a pot of gold from both sides of the war just for the sake of profit. For some reason, Eva speculated how they aren’t arrested by the Galactic Republic, even when there was solid proof. Somehow, they faced no form of repercussions.

Eva rubbed the back of her neck as she passed by a sealed door, which stored cleaning equipment for the janitors to use. She smirked to herself, figuring out he was inside and was waiting for her to turn the other way so that he could escape within a flash.

The third skill that an assassin requires is finding a good spot to kill. It can be anywhere, from the corner of an abandoned building to the cramped ventilation pipes. The location must be a blind spot for passers-by and potent in carrying out their job. A wide-open space wouldn't work out since it would be easier for the authorities to catch them.

It's tempting for Eva to just burst open the door and corner him, but that would mean the assassin would pounce on her and escape easily. No, that's not what Commander Fox wanted. He wishes that the assassin be caught and brought to justice for attempting to murder a senator, assault, and destruction of public property.

“Guess I’ll check the reactor,” she purposely spoke in a loud volume, hoping the assassin would hear. “It’s a good hiding spot for our killer.”

As she took a few steps forward, the storage door beside her hissed opened, making Eva turn around and dived towards the assassin, crushing his neck. “I got you,” she exclaimed, restricting his airflow.

The assassin threw her off and got up, but Eva held him with the Force. "You're not going anywhere, you fuckface."

“You have a potty mouth for a child your age,” he gleamed. “Also, are the Republic out of Jedi?”

“I may be a kid but I'm smarter than you,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Isn't that obvious? I mean, you seem to know a lot about us assassins. Very impressive.”

“All you have to do is to study how your mind works. It's that simple.”

“Oh, I'm not doing this for the money,” he retorted, shaking his head. “In fact, I'm not even here to get paid by my client.”

Eva furrowed her eyebrows. “That's just bullcrap. What kind of assassin would kill Senator Chuchi just to not get paid by their client? Doesn’t she have a really high price on her head? Why go through all the hard work just to not reap the reward in the end?”

“Kid, you don't understand. In your mind, you think that Senator Chuchi is someone who could never do wrong in her life but you're wrong. She's not all angelic and pure. She's a politician. Politicians are not all good and bad. They lie, they cheat, they steal. That's what they do, no matter how good their intentions are. Seems harsh, kid, but hey, that's life for you.”

She tightened her lips as she stared at the ground. He has a good point. Even if a senator wants to do good for the people, they would have to resort to dishonesty if they were left with no other choice. Padmé used her as access to head to Raxus Prime so that she could make peace between the Republic and the Separatists, and Eva ended up in a heap of trouble because of that.

Heck, even the Chancellor took advantage of the assassination plot against Senator Amidala to declare war against the Separatist and stayed in the Senate, even though his term was supposed to end earlier. Eva knows that Riyo treated Lira with kindness, such as wiping the blood off her nose and soothing her from a headache, but she isn’t really sure how deceptive Riyo can be, especially when she genuinely smiled at them.

“You’re wrong about Senator Chuchi,” Eva denied. “She would never steal from the people. She was outspoken towards injustices in the Senate.”

“Is she, though?” the assassin raised a question. “If she cared so much about us common folks, then why are they suffering more and more? Why are people forcing themselves to starve just to pay their medical bills? Why are people being forced out of their homes? And most importantly, why are there still orphans roaming around the streets, begging for food? Can you answer that, kid?”

She can’t. To be fair, she hardly knows a thing or two about politics, except that the Republic are the good guys while the Separatists are the bad guys. And yet, when Eva was in Raxus Prime with Padmé, she met Lux Bonteri, who was the son of the late Senator Mina Bonteri. Surprisingly, Mina welcomed both of them with open arms and was willing to answer her questions on the droid army with patience.

Lux, on the other hand, made her realize that not everything was black and white. She remembered when they had a long discussion as they were walking side-by-side. From what she remembered, he asked her whether she met any Separatist leaders, to which she could only answer none of his questions since Grievous and Ventress don't count at all. She learned that people in Lux's school thought of the Jedi as the ones who started the war, which made her aware of their perspectives of the Jedi, which she and Lira were so devoted to their rules throughout their lives.

She didn't choose to be in the war or to be trained by the Jedi Council. All Eva wanted was to play with her toys, dance to ballet, join theatres, or even perform her own tricks in gymnastics. That's all she has ever dreamed of. She recalled the time when she used to sing 'O Holy Night' when she was around seven years old during Life Day. She wore a red dress and red shoes while she was singing that song. It was one of the happiest memories she ever had.

“Eva,” she heard her sister reach her comm. “Are you there?”

Eva blinked twice, only to be punched on the nose by the masked figure. “Sorry, kid, but I have things to take care of,” he sighed, as he sprinted past her.

“You're not going anywhere,” she growled, as she ignited her lightsaber and spun towards him, but he grabbed his blaster from his holster and pulled the trigger, hitting her left shoulder.

She didn't have time to deflect the blast, so she ended up lying on the floor, moaning in pain. She could feel the wound stinging on her shoulder as her saber was not in her grasp anymore. "You son of a bitch," Eva cursed, holding back her tears.

“See you soon, kiddo,” he gave her a small salute as he disappeared from her sigh, much to her frustration. Letting her tears flow down her cheeks, her nose sniffled as her arms trembled. How am I going to explain this to Commander Fox and Lira?

[longitudinalwaveme]

Fortuna Inversis

Kaon. It’s an open, festering wound on the otherwise generally peaceful and prosperous planet of Cybertron; a city-state prostrate under the heel of the tyrannical Lord Straxus. Everyone knows this, and no one knows it more than the inhabitants of its closest neighbor, the city-state of Vos. Kaon is a place of energy deprivation, filth, poverty, and misery; in short, it is a place Vosians go out of their way to avoid. So how did a well-bred Vosian noblemech like me end up in one of Kaon’s hovels? That, I am afraid, is a rather complicated story, and for you to fully understand it, I need to start at the beginning. My name is Succendam Off de domo Domini Cael (or, for those of you who do not speak Vosian, Blast Off of the House of Space), the creation and only heir of Dominus Spatium and Domine Astrum.

My creators were extremely wealthy, arguably even wealthier than the royal family, and they were a regular presence in the court of Rex Ventus, the King of Vos; however, they were also spacefaring explorers, and, as such, they were killed in a particularly unpleasant spaceship explosion when I was four stellar cycles away from the age of legal majority. It was a tragedy, of course, but as they had been away from home frequently for most of my life prior to that point, it did not affect me as much as it might have, and upon their deaths, I became the master of the Cael estate and its workers. Not long afterwards, I hired a mech from Kaon to serve as my clerk. He was quiet and efficient, and generally did good work, but he was always filthy and clearly half-starved, not to mention a war-frame, and that did not fit in with the image I wanted my staff to project. Thus, I fired him; which proved to be stressful for both of us. When I informed him that he was being let go, he started creating quite a scene, begging me to keep him on for the sake of his family and generally acting horribly undignified. In the end, I grew tired of trying to reason with him and had my guards remove him from my estate. After a few days, I forgot about him altogether, little imagining that we would encounter each other again, and my life progressed quite smoothly for the next two stellar cycles. I even arranged a sponsalia (that is, an engagement) for myself with Illusion of the Furtim Line, a female from the Towers District. But my happiness proved to be transient. Just a few solar cycles after I reached sedecim (sixteen) stellar cycles of age, I was baselessly arrested for treason. Sure, I may have made a few….inopportune….statements about Rex Ventus’ ability to rule, but I had never plotted to overthrow him, and everyone knew it. As he soon made clear, his real interest was not whether or not I had betrayed him but rather to see if he could get his filthy hands on my land and holdings….and irritatingly, because he was the king and thus the head of the judiciary system of Vos, it soon became apparent that he could do just that. On the pretext of incredibly flimsy evidence (even the king’s young creation, Princeps Stella Clamor- Prince Starscream- remarked on the flimsiness of it), I was found guilty of treason, and stripped of my title, my lands, and my holdings. Ventus made a show of mercy, claiming that he would spare me from execution because of my youth. Then he banished me to the slums of Kaon with no servants, no Shanix, and no energon….which, had fate not intervened, would have been nothing more than a prolonged death sentence. So much for his mercy. Not long after I was abandoned in Kaon, I was approached by a mech whom, I would soon learn, was one of Lord Straxus’ Enforcers.

“What are you doing out at night, Empty?” he spat. While I could understand Neocybex fairly well, my ability to speak it was rather limited. Most nobles (and their servants) could speak Vosian, after all, so there had been little need for me to practice speaking the language. Thus, my response to his question was less than elegant.

“I do wrong?” I stammered in broken Neocybex.

“What’s the matter, Empty? Can’t you speak?” the Enforcer mocked

“Empty?” I echoed, utterly confused. I knew the word-in Vosian, it was vaccus -but he seemed to be using it as a noun rather than an adjective.

“Yeah, an Empty. That’s what you are…a worthless piece of gutter trash. Although if you’re too stupid to know what that means, then maybe you’re also too stupid to know that no one is allowed out after curfew. If you don’t get inside in the next ten minutes, I’m taking you to prison. You got that, Empty?”

“Yes,” I replied. With that, I bolted away from the mech and started searching for some way to get inside before I got thrown into a Kaonite prison, which I was certain would make the one I had been locked up in in Vos seem like my palatial estate by comparison. After a few minutes, I stumbled upon a small building-a hovel, really-and, in desperation, banged on the door.

“ Fac me introire! Ergot placet mihi! ” (Let me in! Please, let me in!) I was in such a panic that I didn’t even stop to consider the fact that whoever was inside probably didn’t speak Vosian. After a few seconds, the door was opened by an exhausted-looking war-frame, one who was startlingly familiar.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” he barked in Neocybex.

“Need roof...help,” I replied, now desperately wishing that I was more fluent in the language.

“ Vosiane loqui possum. Quod requires? ” (I can speak Vosian. What do you need?) the other mech asked, surprising me. His rough, thickly accented voice was also familiar, but I still couldn’t place him.

“ Et opus tectumque . Quaeso! ” (I need shelter. Please!) I replied. The war-build examined me, and then glared at me coldly.

“Et nota videtur. Quod nomen tibi est? ” (You seem familiar. What is your name?)

“ Succendam Off de domo Domini Cael ,” I replied….and just as I said this, I realized why the war-build seemed so familiar. He was the same one whom I had fired from his position as my clerk two stellar cycles previously. A sense of dread washed over my spark. This was not good.

“Quid si ego auxiliatus sum tui? Et accensus sunt me, cum scires haec non erat familiaris. ” (Why should I help you? You fired me unjustly, even though you knew I had a family.) the war-build said coldly.

“ Paenitet! Paenitet-” (I’m sorry! I’m sorry…) I exclaimed, stopping short when  I realized that I had never bothered to learn his name.

“ Impetus. Impetus sit nomen meum. Cum tibi, ne quidem sciunt nomine meo: ego auxiliatus sum tibi, non. Exite!” ( Onslaught . Onslaught is my name. Since you do not even know my name, I will not help you. Go away.) In complete panic, I fell to my knees.

“ Amabo, noli me manere. Faciam quod vis facere! ” (Please, let me stay! I’ll do anything you want!) I pleaded.

“ Quidquid ?” ( Anything ?) Onslaught asked.

“ Ita, quod, ” (Yes, anything.) I replied. Onslaught seemed to ponder this for a few seconds, then pulled me to my feet.

“‘Ut maneat in domo in tribus conditionalibus. Primo, vos mos reperio a officium, mercedem tuam super me, et convertam. Habeo tres alere velis nobiscum sic oportet operam. Secundam, maneat, si tu non es membrum de familia. Et erit servum, et sic potest haberi. Tertius, et sic loquetur ad me, domine . Mecum adhuc volo?” (You may stay in my home, on three conditions. First, you will find a job and turn over your wages to me. I have three brothers to support, so if you wish to stay with us, you must contribute financially. Second, if you stay, you are not a member of the family. You will be a servant and be treated as such. Third, you will address me as “sir.” Do you still wish to stay with me?) he asked. Naturally, I was horrified by the conditions that he had set, but because the alternative was even worse, I was forced to swallow my pride and accept them.

“ Ita domine. Habeo alia optio, ” (Yes, sir. I have no other choice.) I said. Onslaught nodded.

“In that case, you can come in. You will speak Neocybex from now on.”

“I...try, sir,” I replied. Onslaught nodded, and mercifully did not comment on my broken Neocybex. Then he led me inside the shack of a building he called his home, and I was shocked by the squalor inside. There was a table, three recharging centers, and four chairs, crammed into a space that was smaller than the storage closets on my estate. Other than that, there was no furniture-no washracks, no energon dispenser, nothing! In place of those essentials were a third grown mech who clearly transformed into a tank, a grey youngling whose rotors marked him as a helicopter, and the tiniest sparkling I had ever seen. He was bright yellow and had enormous purple optics, and he appeared to turn into a ground-based vehicle of some sort, though I wasn’t sure of what type.

“These are my brothers, Brawl, Vortex, and Swindle,” Onslaught said, as he pointed to the tank, the youngling, and the sparkling in turn.

“Who’s that, Onslaught?” the tank, Brawl, asked. He was exceedingly loud, and I could tell right from the beginning that he was going to be a major irritant.

“This is Blast Off of the House of Cael,” Onslaught replied.

“The rich jerk who fired you? What’s he doing here?”

“I’m not entirely certain of that, Brawl, but given the fact that he, a very wealthy, very arrogant mech, begged me to allow him to take shelter in what he probably thinks is a shack, I’d guess that he has run into a disaster of some kind,” Onslaught replied. When he said this, I realized for the first time just what I had done. I had agreed to work as an unpaid servant in exchange for being allowed to take shelter in a hovel !  

“We can barely keep ourselves fueled; why’re we givin’ some of our energy and our home to a rich, spoiled jerk?” Brawl asked.

“We aren’t “giving” Blast Off anything. This is probably a foreign concept to him, but rest assured-from now on, he’s going to have to earn every drop of energon we give him,” Onslaught replied. Although he was ostensibly speaking to his brother, it was clear that Onslaught was telling me something as well: namely, that if I didn’t please him, I would not get to refuel.

“Where’s he gonna recharge?” This question came from Vortex. The question being something that I, too, was interested in, I turned to Onslaught for the answer.

“There isn’t enough space for him to recharge on the floor, at least not without us tripping over him on a constant basis, the recharging center you share with Swindle is far too small for another sparkling, let alone a shuttle of his size, and my recharging center barely fits me. Thus, he will have to share Brawl’s recharging center,” Onslaught replied.

“ What ?” Brawl and I exclaimed simultaneously. Vortex giggled.

“Now you know how I feel having to share a recharger with Swindle,” he said to his older brother. Brawl growled, and I backed away from him, but the small helicopter just giggled again.

“Vortex, go back to recharge,” Onslaught said.

“But I’m not tired! And Swindle kicks really hard in recharge,” Vortex whined, gesturing at the unconscious sparkling. How that sparkling managed to stay in recharge with Brawl and Vortex shouting around him, I did not and do not understand.

“I know that sharing a recharger is unpleasant, Vortex, but we don’t have enough Shanix or enough space to get you your own. If you don’t recharge properly, you’ll be at risk for developing a virus that we wouldn’t  be able to afford to treat. Please at least make an effort,” Onslaught said gently. Vortex pouted, but he climbed onto the tiny recharging center regardless. Evidently, he had been lying about not being tired, as, only a few minutes later, he was clearly in recharge. Once he was assured that the youngling was resting, Onslaught turned back to Brawl and me.

“It’s very late, so it would be wise for the three of us to get some rest, too. I’ll see you both in the morning,” he said. With that, he went to his own recharging chamber and was almost immediately dead to the world, leaving my-shudder-new companion and me staring awkwardly at each other.

“Just my luck, havin’ to share a recharger with a prissy little snob,” Brawl muttered.

“I...not like….either,” I replied, mortified by how poor my spoken Neocybex was. Brawl shot me an odd look.

“Why’re you talkin’ funny, Prissy?” he asked. I scowled at him, as I did not at all appreciate him calling me “prissy”. It was hardly my fault that I had been bred to be disgusted by the squalor that these brothers lived in!

“I speak Vosian. I...not good...speaking...Neocybex,” I explained, inwardly fuming at how unfair it was that I was expected to adjust to the language used by these plebeians.

“Oh. Okay then. Which side of the recharger do you want? I ain’t gonna like it regardless, so it don’t matter none to me,” Brawl asked. I idly wondered why he insisted on butchering his own language before replying.

“Left,” I replied. I had no desire to be trapped in between the tank and a wall.

“Fine. Just so you know, Prissy, I snore. Hope you don’t mind,” Brawl said as he got onto his recharging center. I very much did mind, but, under the circumstances, there was nothing I could do but wish fervently that I was anywhere but in the slums of Kaon and follow him to the recharging center. I gingerly joined the tank on the center, glad that the lighting was too poor for me to see how filthy they both probably were, and struggled to enter recharge. It seemed as though every time I was about to do so, Brawl’s engines decided to rumble noisily, and then, as though that wasn’t unpleasant enough, he eventually rolled over in such a way that he pinned my arm to the recharging center’s slab. This was, as one might imagine, quite painful, and I cried out, but no one reacted. Evidently, they were accustomed to recharging through a racket. After what seemed like an eternity of discomfort, exhaustion eventually took over and I fell into recharge.

“Wake up! You have work to do!” I checked my chronometer, and was startled to find that it was only 4:30 in the morning.

“ Suss etiam mane, ” (It’s too early.) I protested. I was not fully awake, and, as such, my CPU had not yet fully registered that I was no longer at home. Then my optics focused, I saw Onslaught, and the events of the previous night rushed back to me. I groaned in a mixture of exhaustion and disgust, and then quickly got to my feet. A quick perusal of the room (my processor simply refused to accept it as a building) revealed that Onslaught, Brawl, and Vortex were already awake. The tiny sparkling was still asleep, but then, he wasn’t even out of his first frame. Clearly, then, and much to my distaste, I was going to have to become an early riser.

“I had better not have to wake you up again, Blast Off. As one of my employers told me, it’s ‘not my job to coddle the hired help’,” Onslaught snapped. The fact that I had been the employer in question made the whole situation even more mortifying.

“Yes, sir,” I replied weakly. I knew that protesting would likely only make my-*shudder*- employer angrier.

“Good. Now, your alternate mode is a shuttle- if a small one- correct?” Onslaught asked.

“Yes, sir. Quare -er,why?” I asked, wondering what my alternate mode had to do with the work that he would expect me to do (whatever that proved to be).

“You have no work experience, and you can barely speak Neocybex. Due to those handicaps, the quickest way for you to get a job is to get you employed as transport of some kind, since, as a shuttle, your alt mode meets the main requirement for that position. Here are the instructions to the transport center; download them to your CPU,”  Onslaught replied as he handed me a small chip. I stared at him, mildly appalled. A noblemech working as transport? It was beneath my dignity!

“Hey, Onslaught, I don’t think Prissy likes that idea,” Brawl observed, sounding mildly amused. Vortex snickered.

“Can I call him Prissy, too?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Sure, kid,” Brawl replied.

“You’re in no position to complain about what they call you, Blast Off; or, for that matter, the job I want you to get…..unless, of course, you’d prefer to find energon and shelter on your own,” Onslaught said coldly. I sighed weakly. Any ludicrous hope I had had that I would be able to maintain a semblance of dignity as the-ugh-unpaid servant of a pauper was effectively dashed by what Onslaught had just told me.

“I….be good, sir.” Onslaught nodded.

“In that case, get going. Brawl and I have our own jobs to get to,” he snapped.

“Energon?” I asked. Surely, they didn’t expect me to go job-hunting on an empty fuel tank! Brawl and Vortex laughed.

“Wow, you’re even dumber than Brawl if you expect energon now! We never get to refuel at this time of the solar cycle!” Vortex exclaimed.

“Dumber than Brawl? I’ll show you dumb, tiny!” Brawl bellowed.

“You always do, bro,” Vortex replied, giggling as he ducked to avoid the punch Brawl threw at him. Such barbarism!

“Enough! Blast Off, not everyone is able to refuel whenever they feel like it. This unit is lucky if we get to refuel once a solar cycle, and at present, I have gone without refueling for three solar cycles. Do you understand?” Onslaught asked. I stared at him in shock, wondering vaguely if this was some sort of joke, before realizing that he was serious. If the unit couldn’t even fuel itself properly, no wonder Onslaught needed my labor! Grimly resigning myself to hunger, I nodded.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Then, for the last time, I will tell you to go find a job. I don’t have time to explain everything to you. Brawl and I have work to get to,” Onslaught said. I nodded and quickly left the hovel, then downloaded the directions to the transport station into my CPU, transformed into my alternate mode, and took off. Roughly forty minutes later, I arrived at my destination, which, although not quite as disgusting as the hovel I was currently living in, was still quite filthy. I transformed, landed, and walked inside the building. The inside was just as filthy as the outside. I reluctantly walked over to the window that was marked as “Employment”. Much to my surprise, I was the only one there, so I winced, swallowed my pride for the millionth time in less than 24 hours, and walked closer to the window. The mech on the other side looked at me with very little interest.

“You a shuttle?” he asked. He had a very strange, slightly echo-y voice.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“You’re awful small for a shuttle,” the mech said. In response, I transformed into my alternate mode, which, although much sleeker than the shuttles typically used for-ugh- transport, was still most definitely a shuttle. Once I was confident that the other mech was convinced that I was, indeed, a shuttle, I returned to my robot mode.

“All right, all right, you’ve made your point. Though why a delicate thing like you is applying to work as a garbage shuttle, I couldn’t begin to guess,” the other mech said. It was at this point that I realized just how much of a grudge Onslaught held against me. It was one thing to expect me to work, but this? This was an entirely different level of humiliating.

“Job,” I replied weakly.

“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” he asked.

“Vosian. Not good at Neocybex,” I replied. His optics brightened in apparent understanding.

“You can’t speak Neocybex? That explains it, then. Garbage transports don’t have to talk much-and given how lithe you are, I think I’ve got a good job for you. You see, the Towers District has been requesting more garbage transports, but they say they think our regular employees look too bulky. A sleek shuttle like you would be the perfect fit, and I can finally get my boss off my back about that. What do you say?” he said. My first instinct was to say “absolutely not”, but then I remembered that my life was very dependent on my getting a job.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, trying not to sound absolutely horrified.

“Great! You’re hired! Follow me!” he exclaimed. I complied, and he led me to what appeared to be a hanger of some sort. A few other shuttles, all much larger than me, were milling about. They were all filthy and covered in grime, and I shuddered. My beautiful, clean plating….

“Can you transform for me?” a different mech asked. I did so, and then he started gathering cans of paint.

“What...you doing?” The new mech laughed .

“Repainting you. All garbage transports have a specific color, and you don’t match it yet. That being said, this will probably take awhile, so if you want to take a nap, you can. I’ll wake you up when I’m done,” he said. More out of a desire to escape my situation than anything else, I decided to take his advice. I was reawoken about forty-five minutes later.

“All right, I’m done. You can go ahead and transform back into robot mode now,” the second mech said. I complied, and had to hold back a nervous breakdown. My beautiful purple-and-white coloration had been replaced with a hideous shade of brown, and my family crest had been painted over and replaced with Neocybex lettering that read “Garbage Disposal”. Once I had calmed down from panic to mild disgust, I turned to the second mech.

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t feel thankful at all, but it seemed prudent not to let him know that. The mech smiled.

“No problem,” he replied. He walked off, and the mech who had hired me walked up and took his place, then handed me a chip similar to the one Onslaught had given me earlier.

“Here’s your schedule. Your shift starts at 6 and ends at 5. You make 12 Shanix per day; if you’re late to any of the pickups, it comes out of your pay. Any extra Shanix you earn will come from tips. Any questions?” he said rapidly.

“I...start now?” I asked.

“No, you start tomorrow. That way, you have some time to go over the schedule, though I guess you’ll have to find someone to read it for you if you don’t understand Neocybex very well,” he replied. I didn’t bother to tell the mech that I could read Neocybex just fine; there didn’t seem to be much point.

“I...go home?” I asked. I felt very relieved that I was not going to be immediately thrust into a humiliating, unfamiliar work environment.

“Yeah, you can go home now. But if you aren’t back here by 6 AM sharp tomorrow, you’re fired. Got it?” the mech replied.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. With that, I left the transport station, transformed into my vehicle mode, pulled up the directions that I had used to get to the station, and then simply reversed the directions in order to get back to Onslaught’s hovel. (One of the benefits of being a shuttle is the fact that we all possess a natural skill for navigation.) Upon my arrival, I returned to robot mode and knocked on the door, which was opened by none other than the tiny sparkling.

“Hi,” he said. He seemed a bit bemused, but not particularly frightened. A few seconds later, Vortex joined him at the door.

“That’s the shuttle I told you about, Stumpy, the one who showed up last night when you were in recharge. His name is Blast Off, but Brawl and I call him Prissy because he used to be Onslaught’s boss, back when you were even littler than you are now. He used to be really rich, and he still thinks he’s better than us, but something bad happened to him and now Onslaught says he’s the “hired help”, and that means he has to do what we say. Ain’t that right, Prissy?”

“Yes,” I replied, still a bit shell-shocked by the fact that I-the wealthiest noblemech of Vos-now had to take orders from two filthy little brats.

“Onslaught must think you’ll make a lot of Shanix.” Unbelievably, this particular comment came out of the mouth of the tiny sparkling.

“What?” I asked.

“If you’re living with us, we’ll have to buy energon for you, which will increase our expenses. If Onslaught’s letting you stay anyway, it must be because you’ll bring in enough energy to cover the difference-and also make a net profit,” the little sparkling replied. I stared at him in utter bewilderment. What sort of sparkling had that level of understanding of economics?

“Onslaught says that Stumpy’s an “economics prodigy”,” Vortex explained, as though sensing my confusion.

“I see,” I replied. It was rather unfortunate for Onslaught, then-but quite fortunate for me, conditions being what they were-that the sparkling was far too young to be employed full-time (even in a cesspool like Kaon).

“What are you doing back here so early, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be getting a job?” Vortex demanded.

“I...got job. Job starts tomorrow,” I explained quickly.

“Oh. Okay. See you later, Prissy. Stumpy and I have stuff to do,” Vortex exclaimed. He grabbed his younger brother by the hand and proceeded to pull him outside.

“You go to school?” I asked.

“School?” Vortex and “Stumpy” echoed, apparently perplexed, which in turn puzzled me. Surely a youngling and a prodigy knew what a school was.

“Learning place,” I explained. Vortex frowned.

“We know what school is, dummy. We just don’t know why you think we go to school,” Vortex replied.

“Schools cost money, and Onslaught can’t afford to send us,” the sparkling added. This shocked me. Apparently, my assumption that public education was available across the entirety of Cybertron was mistaken.

“Where going?” I asked.

“Out,” Vortex replied. Before I could ask any more questions, both the youngling and the sparkling scampered away and disappeared. After a few seconds of worry that Onslaught would be upset that I had not kept an optic on them, I quickly realized that, since Brawl and Onslaught both worked, and I hadn’t lived with them until very recently, they were accustomed to Vortex and Swindle taking care of themselves in spite of their youth...and in truth, they were both probably more street savvy than I could ever hope to be. Unfortunately, with their departure, I was left alone in the tiny, filthy hovel, with little to do except reflect on my thoroughly unpleasant situation. Starting the following day, I-a noblemech of Vos!-would be working 11 hours every day as a garbage transport, all so I could pay my former employee for the “privilege” of living in a hovel and sharing a recharging center with a loudly-snoring, filthy tank. How had I been reduced to this? Overwhelmed by the blatant unfairness of it all, I started to weep. Why me? After I finished wallowing in (very deserved) self-pity, I finally downloaded the schedule that I had been given at the transport station, which promptly created yet another cause for self-pity. Because the universe apparently has it out for me, the last stop on the schedule was Amabilia Manor, the estate of my sponsa (betrothed), Illusion of the Furtim Line. In other words, there was a very real chance that Illusion, whom I was still quite fond of, would see me working on her estate as a garbage shuttle ! What had I done to deserve that? A few hours of alternatively wallowing some more in self-pity, vaguely wondering if I was supposed to be responsible for cleaning the interior of the hovel, and trying to ignore my ever-lowering fuel levels later, Vortex and the little yellow sparkling returned with a handful of Shanix and one (very small) energon cube.

“How... you get that?” I asked.

“Stumpy. I dirty him up a little, set him in full view of passersby, have him make his sad face, and bam! Instant Shanix. Nobody can resist helping out a poor, starving orphan, after all. It’s great!” Vortex explained. Wonderful. I was living with a pair of miniature con artists.

“I hate it. Why don’t you ever have to be the orphan?” the tiny sparkling said.

“Because I’m a warbuild, and thus, not small or cute enough to get sympathy. For some reason, you were the only one of us our creator didn’t design as a warbuild, so you have to do the cutesy stuff. Besides, you’re a better actor than I am,” Vortex replied.

“But I have to do all the work!”

“No, you don’t! When your cute face doesn’t bring in enough Shanix, I make up the difference by raiding their subspace containers while they’re distracted. How do you think we got the energon cube today, magic?” Vortex replied. Oh, terrific. One of them was a thief as well. However, much to my surprise, rather than keeping the Shanix for themselves, the pair instead deposited it in a container located under Onslaught’s recharger. The box was largely empty and lined only with a thin layer of Shanix, which puzzled me. Even considering the fact that neither Onslaught nor Brawl was likely to have a particularly well-paying job, it seemed like they should have more Shanix than that. With two grown mechs (soon, I reflected sadly, to be three) working full-time, why were their savings so limited, and why did they have to ration energon so strictly? The answer to that question arrived a few minutes later, when a large red-and-white mech stormed into the hovel, prompting shrieks of fear from Vortex and the sparkling, who both  promptly ran to hide behind me.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“An Enforcer. Do whatever he says,” Vortex explained, clearly ill at ease. Given how confident he had been previously, this was rather alarming.

“All right, Empties. Pay up!” the Enforcer exclaimed aggressively. In response, Vortex ran over to the Shanix container, handed it to me, and instructed me to hand it to the Enforcer, which I did. The sparkling started crying into my leg, and for the first time, I actually felt a pang of sympathy for the two of them. If I was terrified, it had to be even worse for a youngling and a sparkling. The Enforcer emptied the container into what appeared to be his personal subspace compartment and then scowled.

“Is that all the Shanix you have?” he demanded. I looked at Vortex, who nodded. In response, the Enforcer proceeded to upend the hovel, apparently in search of any hidden Shanix, and totally destroying one of the chairs. My fuel pump felt like it was beating out of my chest, and my spark constricted in terror. After what seemed like an eternity, but, according to my chronometer, was actually only five minutes, he stopped tearing the hovel apart, now apparently having determined that Vortex had told the truth. Then he stomped over to me.

“Tell Onslaught that if he doesn’t have at least fifty shanix waiting for me next time, I’ll take your two youngest brothers as payment instead. There’s a titanium mine that would pay hundreds of shanix for a couple of slaves who are small enough to fit in those hard-to-reach crevices,” he said threateningly. With that, he grabbed the energon cube, downed it in one gulp, dropped it back onto the floor, and stormed out of the hovel. As soon as he was gone, I found myself awkwardly attempting to comfort a sobbing sparkling while also trying to work out what, exactly, had just happened. After a few seconds, I gave up and decided to just ask Vortex.

“What happened?”

“I told you that guy was an enforcer, right? Well, all of the Enforcers work for Lord Straxus and make sure he gets to stay the boss. Because of that, they can do whatever they want-short of trying to overthrow him, that is-and almost all of them eventually set up this thingy they call a “patrol fee”, which is a fancy way of saying that they can come into your home and take as much of your Shanix as they like, and you can’t do anything to stop them...unless you wanna get thrown in prison. And if you can’t meet the fee they want for whatever reason, they’ll throw you into debtor’s prison or sell you into slavery,” Vortex explained. This, as one might imagine, was less than comforting news. While it certainly explained the desperate poverty of Onslaught’s unit, the revelation that most of my earnings wouldn’t benefit me even remotely was even more disgusting and unpleasant than the fact that I was expected to work as garbage transport in order to earn them in the first place. Once the sparkling finally stopped sobbing, I reorganized the hovel to the best of my (very limited) ability, as Vortex watched with very irritating amusement. I was trying my best! It was not as though I had ever personally had to reorganize a room before! As soon as he was convinced that his home was (more or less) back in order, Vortex started heading for the exit again, dragging his younger brother behind him.

“No! I’m n-not going out again! The Enforcer might still be around, and if he catches us begging, he might put us in jail!” the sparkling said, clearly terrified. His huge optics somehow seemed even wider than usual. Vortex laughed.

“C’mon, Stumpy. They’ve never caught us before,” he said, remarkably boldly, I thought, for a youngling who had been hiding behind my leg, in apparent fear of an Enforcer, not thirty minutes before.

“‘“M not going. Enforcers are scary,” the sparkling replied, suddenly sounding a lot more like what I had expected a sparkling still in his first frame to sound than a business mech.

“Only if they’re close enough to hurt you. If they don’t know where we are or what we’re doing- which they won’t-they’re no threat,” Vortex replied. In response, the sparkling latched onto my leg again, much to my mild disgust. Although I pitied the pair, I had no desire for them to be putting their filthy hands on me on a regular basis.

“You can’t make me. The Enforcer is too close! And if you do, I’m gonna tell Onslaught,” the sparkling said. Vortex scowled.

“Fine! Stupid sparkling,” he exclaimed. With that, he pouted and sat down on his recharging center. It was at this point that I realized that I had not yet learned the sparkling’s name (or, for that matter, how old he was). Onslaught had told it to me the previous night, but I had subsequently totally forgotten it.

“Name? How old?” I asked the sparkling.

“Swindle. I’m five stellar cycles old,” he replied. “Swindle” seemed like an odd name for a sparkling, but then again, “Onslaught” and “Brawl” weren’t exactly names that I would have imagined a creator giving to their creations either. Perhaps it had something to do with what their creators were like. Since three out of the four brothers were war-builds, it seemed likely that at least one, if not both, of them were also war-builds, amongst whom such names might be common. My curiosity having been aroused, I decided to continue questioning the sparkling to see if I could obtain any further information about Onslaught’s unit.

“Creators?” I asked. Much to my surprise, it was Vortex who answered. I had assumed that he was too street-savvy to trust me with such information, but evidently I had either overestimated him, or he did not think that the information was important.

“Our male creator was named Dragline and our female creator was named Highwall. They were miners and they died in a cave-in two solar cycles after Stumpy was brought online. He doesn’t remember them at all, and I was only three stellar cycles old, so I only remember little bits and pieces. Brawl was eleven stellar cycles when the cave-in happened, and Onslaught was thirteen, so they remember more,” he explained.

“Other members of house?” I asked.

“Well, there was Dragline’s brother, Onslaught. He was a soldier, but he was offlined in battle a long time ago, I think before Brawl came online. Our Onslaught’s named after him,” Vortex replied. Stunned, I started performing some mental calculations. If Onslaught the elder was the only member of their house besides their creators, and he and their creators had all gone offline by the time Onslaught had reached the age of thirteen stellar cycles, that meant two things. First, Onslaught had been raising his three younger brothers, alone, since he was thirteen, and second, if he had been thirteen when Swindle had just come online, and Swindle was five stellar cycles old now, that meant that he was currently only eighteen stellar cycles old, barely any older than me. I had thought he was at least thirty-five stellar cycles!

“I see,” I replied at last. The next several hours passed largely uneventfully (especially in comparison to the shocks that the morning had provided), and, around 7:00 in the evening, Brawl returned to the hovel. (His approach was so loud that I heard him coming several minutes before he actually arrived.) Upon his arrival, he immediately collapsed into one of the chairs, looking absolutely exhausted.

“Hey, Brawl, how was work?” Vortex asked.

“Long. Did Prissy get a job?” Brawl replied.

“Yep. He starts work tomorrow,” Vortex said.

“You stay out of trouble, Tiny?” Brawl asked. Vortex smirked.

“Of course, bro. Stumpy and I would never do anything that would get us in trouble.” Brawl snorted. Clearly, he knew better than to believe his brothers.

“And what really happened?”

 “We got ten Shanix and an energon cube from our usual methods, but then the Enforcer broke in and took all of it, so now we’ve got nothin’ again. I hope you picked up some extra shanix today, ‘cause if not, none of us are gonna get to refuel, and I’m hungry,” Vortex explained.

‘Lousy no-good Enforcers. Ain’t like we got any Shanix worth stealin’,” Brawl muttered.

“How much Shanix did you earn, Brawl? I’m hungry too,” Swindle asked. In response, Brawl actually gave what passed for a smile; which was much more terrifying than his scowls.

“10, plus 6 extra I spent on energon,” he said. Vortex and Swindle cheered, and even I felt a sense of relief. Admittedly, it was disgraceful that I- a noblemech!-felt relief at the prospect of something so basic as being able to consume fuel, but it was still better than dying of fuel deprivation. Vortex started pawing at his older brother, likely in search of the energon.

“None of that, tiny. Nobody’s refuelin’ till Onslaught gets back,” Brawl said. Vortex pouted, but didn’t argue, instead choosing to kick me in the shin to relieve his frustration.

“Ouch!” I exclaimed. Vortex giggled, and I glared at him. Why had I felt sympathy for the filthy little youngling, again? I elected to ignore him and turned my attention to Brawl instead.

“Where...work?” I asked.

“Construction. Ain’t many jobs for a stupid tank like me, but I can lift stuff pretty good. So long as I can do that, my boss don’t care that I’m not so bright and don’t have no ed-you-cay-shun,” Brawl replied tersely. (I am not exaggerating his pronunciation of the word “education”, by the way. That’s exactly the way that he said the word.)

“No...school?” I asked.

“Not really. Our creators worked real hard to make sure that they could send Onslaught and me, but I only went for a stellar cycle. Teachers said I was too stupid to learn anything, and so my creators took me out ‘cause it was too expensive to spend Shanix on school for me if I wasn’t gonna be learnin’ nothin’. My female creator tried to teach me some after that, but she was always real busy, so I never did learn much before our creators died. Onslaught’s real ed-you-cated, though. His teachers said he was the brightest student in his level, and he always made real high scores. Our creators were so proud of him. He was ‘posed to be our ticket outta bein’ poor, seein’ as he was so smart and all. His teachers even said he could probably get a scholarship to Kaon’s Military Academy, but a stellar cycle before that could happen, our creators were killed, and he had to drop out to provide for Vortex and Swindle and me. Don’t bring that up around him, though. Makes him mad,” Brawl explained. I had a feeling that this was the longest that I would hear Brawl speak for a very long time. He didn’t seem particularly chatty by nature. The fact that he didn’t say another word until Onslaught arrived at the hovel about an hour later, even as his younger brothers chatted nonstop around him about a variety of inane topics, proved my suspicion correct. Upon Onslaught’s arrival, he took one look at the room and then glared at me.

“What happened here?” he demanded.

“I...sorry, sir! Not...clean...before,” I apologized. Onslaught didn’t look appeased.

“It wasn’t really Prissy’s fault, Onslaught. An enforcer showed up and tore the place apart looking for Shanix other than the ones in our container. Prissy was just too stupid to know how to put things back right,” Vortex said. Normally, I would have glared at him, but I was too relieved that he was defending me to really care whether or not he was calling me an idiot (which, for the record, I am most certainly not.)

“An enforcer? Are you two all right?” Onslaught asked.

“Yeah, we’re fine, but the Enforcer said that if we didn’t have at least fifty shanix when he came next time, he’d take me and Stumpy as payment instead,” Vortex replied. In response, Onslaught sat down on his recharging center (remember, there wasn’t-and, sadly, isn’t- that much room in the filthy hovel) and buried his faceplates in his hands, clearly quite upset.

“He said WHAT?” Brawl exclaimed as he jumped out of his seat, so loudly that I am surprised my audio receptors weren’t burnt out. Vortex repeated his explanation, and Brawl collapsed back into his chair, his anger evidently spent. Onslaught, for his part, turned to me.

“Did you get the job?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, trying not to think about how horrible the job was.

“Good,” Onslaught said, sounding utterly exhausted. Then the little sparkling walked over to him, huge optics filled with worry.

“If we don’t give him enough Shanix to pay his “patrol fee”, the Enforcer’s gonna take us away! You won’t let that happen, will you, Onslaught? I don’t wanna be taken away by an Enforcer. They scare me,” Swindle asked.

“I most certainly will not allow that to happen, even if it means working even more shifts than I currently do. Nothing is going to pull this unit apart,” Onslaught replied firmly. At this, Swindle seemed to relax. I, on the other hand, still felt nervous. No matter how hard Brawl, Onslaught, and- *sigh* -I worked, I did not see how it was possible for us to be able to purchase energon and consistently maintain at least fifty shanix for the enforcer on our meager salaries.

“Now can we refuel? I’m hungry,” Vortex asked.

“Yes,” Onslaught replied. With that, he, Vortex, and Swindle joined Brawl at the table (which was, like the rest of the furniture, rather worse for wear), and Brawl retrieved four energon cubes from his storage compartment. One was split between Swindle and Vortex, one was taken by Onslaught, and one was taken by Brawl. Assuming that the last one was mine, I reached for it...only to have my hand slapped by Onslaught.

“You are the hired help, remember? You fuel after we are finished,” he snapped. My circuits heated up with embarrassment, but I retreated back to “my” recharging center and sat down on it to wait anyway. While it was humiliating for me-a noblemech!-to be treated like a servant by my own ex-employee-a desperately poor pauper, no less-I could not afford to raise a fuss. Luckily, Onslaught’s unit refueled remarkably quickly, so I was able to refuel myself less than thirty minutes later….only to immediately gag. The taste was disgusting!

“Energon...bad,” I choked out. Onslaught gave out a harsh laugh.

“I would advise you to get used to it. It may not taste like the delicacies you’re used to, but it’ll keep you alive, and it’s all we can afford,” he said sharply. Although I hated to admit it, he made a good point, and so I forced myself to consume the fuel despite its taste. After all, for all I knew, it might be solar cycles before I could refuel again. Not long after I finished, Onslaught sent Swindle and Vortex to recharge. Both complained extensively, but eventually gave in, and were in recharge in only a few minutes. This being accomplished, Onslaught collapsed onto his own recharging center and was immediately offline to the world, and Brawl followed suit. Clearly, both of them had been absolutely exhausted, and that did not bode well for the career that I would be starting the next day. It was only 8:45 in the evening! Was I going to be that exhausted from work every solar cycle for the rest of my life? However, I still joined Brawl on the recharging center a few minutes later. If I was going to have to wake myself up at 4:30 in the morning, I needed as much rest as I could get. I set an internal alarm to ensure that I wouldn’t oversleep and anger Onslaught again, and tried to ignore Brawl’s loud snoring. I fell into recharge after what felt like an hour (but likely wasn’t). Luckily, the alarm worked, and I was woken promptly at 4:30, then left Onslaught’s hovel to head to my first solar cycle on the job (shudder). I arrived at the transport station at 5:10, and sat around awkwardly for twenty minutes, then departed for the first stop on my schedule. (I definitely did not want to have my pay docked for showing up late, so I felt that it was wise to depart early.) I arrived at the first of the manors of the Towers District at 5:50 and sat around awkwardly once again. At about 5:56, a mech whom I assumed was one of the manor’s servants arrived with a garbage container. I winced, tried not to think about what I had been reduced to, and then opened the door to my cargo bay. The servant then deposited the garbage into my interior, and I shuddered. It was so unfair! I hadn’t been built for work like this! Once he finished emptying the container (into my interior!), he pulled out a few Shanix.

“Hey, you! Transform so I can give you your tip,” he said. I complied with an intense feeling of humiliation. Why me?

“T-thank you,” I stammered, hoping my mortification wasn’t too obvious. The servant handed me the Shanix, and I put it into my subspace compartment. (Shuttles actually have two, one which stores the cargo they can carry in alternate mode, and one which is for personal use.)

“No problem. My boss really appreciates your streamlined design, so he decided to reward it. He says it’s much more “aesthetically pleasing” than the other shuttles he sees,” the servant replied. I nodded, reverted to my shuttle mode, and then took off for my next stop. For the next eleven stops, nothing particularly interesting happened, though my beautiful plating quickly became covered in filth and grime. I did receive tips at all eleven of these stops, evidently because of the sleekness of my alternate mode. I had no idea if this would be a regular occurrence or not, but I wasn’t about to complain about it. The more Shanix I made, the more reason Onslaught would have to keep me around. While it was still humiliating to be tipped like a servant, it was preferable to the alternatives, so I planned to keep my mouth firmly shut on the matter. However, the thirteenth and last stop was not so uneventful (sadly). The flight between the twelfth stop and the manor of Illusion was shorter than the flights between most of the other estates, which meant that I arrived early. Although one of the servants was ready with the garbage (and my tip) when I got there, this meant that I had a full hour before I was expected to deposit the garbage at the dump. As such, I found myself standing around awkwardly on the grounds of the estate, listening to the servant talk about various things.

“Sure, they’re a bit stuck-up, but they’re not that bad, all things considered. And in speaking of not bad, the Lord’s daughter is a beaut...and whaddaya know, she’s come out on the grounds with some of her friends now. Aren’t they lovely? Of course, they’re way out of our league, but a mech can dream,” he said. My circuits heated up in humiliation. I had been betrothed to Illusion less than five solar cycles ago, and now she was “out of my league”?

“Yes,” I said quietly. He grinned.

“Well, I gotta run. Have fun watching the lifestyles of the rich and famous,” he said. With that, he left me and went back inside the manor, and I turned my attention to the conversation Illusion was having with her friends.

“Is your betrothal off then, Illusion?” one of the friends asked (I believe her name is Argenti.) Illusion sighed.

“I don’t know. Blast Off hasn’t so much as called me in three solar cycles, and the King of Vos says he hasn’t seen him for awhile, That doesn’t seem like him,” she replied. I sighed. It was official. The Universe hated me.

“Well, if this is his way of calling off your engagement, then I’d say you dodged a laser blast,” Aurum, another of her friends said.

“No kidding. If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you, he’s crazy,” Argenti added.

“But I know him, Argenti. He’s a bit arrogant, but he’s not inconsiderate of me. He likes me! He would never just fail to call me for three solar cycles. Something must be wrong,” Illusion replied. As you might imagine, I was more than a little relieved that Illusion, at least, didn’t think that I was some sort of irresponsible cad.

“I’ll say something’s wrong. Your conjunx-to-be is a creep,” Aurum said. Suddenly, a blue-and-white mech appeared out of nowhere, prompting shrieks from the females. I recognized him as Mirage, Illusion’s cousin. I had met him once or twice at dinner parties.

“Mirage! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” Illusion exclaimed. Mirage laughed .

“Is that any way to talk to your favorite cousin?” he asked.

“Mirage, you’re my only cousin,” she replied.

“Technicalities. And I have to say, I agree with Aurum. If Blast Off doesn’t appreciate how beautiful you are, he doesn’t deserve you,” Mirage said.

“Me? Beautiful? That’s why suitors have been beating down my door, I suppose,” Illusion replied dryly.

“They don’t know you’re available again yet, cousin dear,” Mirage said.

“And they won’t be the only ones chasing you. I think that garbage mech is sweet on you, Illusion! He hasn’t taken his optics off of you since Tersus left,” Argenti exclaimed.

“And no wonder! You’re probably the first clean, beautiful thing he’s seen in a stellar cycle,” Aurum added. She, Argenti, and Mirage laughed.

“He would certainly make for an interesting story, at least...and you could use the smell to scare off all the other suitors!” Argenti said. This conversation, as you might imagine, was mortifying, and I decided to make myself scarce. I headed for the edge of the estate, hoping that I would no longer be able to overhear the conversation. Much to my surprise, however, Illusion actually followed me to the edge of the estate.

“I’m so sorry for what my friends said about you. You weren’t causing any harm, and….Blast Off?” she exclaimed. Apparently, being covered in grime and wearing hideous brown paint was not sufficient to prevent my sponsalia from recognizing me.

“ Ita ,” (Yes.) I replied quietly.

“ Quid tibi accessit? Ubi eras?’ (What happened to you? Where have you been?)

“ Me expulso rege fictis maiestatis criminibus. Et comprehenderunt omnia mia. Ego autem in Kaon cum pristini ... servum suum servo suo ut nihil minus. Qui autem pauperrimus, et sicut tale, et iussit ut reperio a officium ad terminos occursum. Est nimis ignominia.” (The king banished me on false charges of treason. He seized everything I own. Now I am living in Kaon with my former servant…as his servant, no less. He is very poor, and as such, he ordered me to find a job to make ends meet. It’s very humiliating.) I explained.

“ O, non! Quod sonos terribilis! Quid facere possum?” (Oh, no! That sounds terrible! What can I do?)

“ Proelio nostros dicere videmur. Non possum non enutriet, et non aliquid incorruptelam possidebit.” (I think we should call off our engagement. I can no longer support you, and you will not inherit anything,) I replied. Because Illusion had an elder sister, Apparition, she would inherit very little from her creators. As the younger child, her fortunes were dependent on picking a suitable Conjunx Endura. I, sadly, no longer fit the criteria.

“ Non curo illud! Te amo,” (I don’t care about that! I love you.) she exclaimed

“ Ego autem en uno-locus, magno cum quattuor aliss. Opus mihi quotidie horas undecim. Ibi sus ‘nunquam satis cibum. Illic est non satis manducare. Non possum facere vobis.” (I am living in a one-room hovel with four other mechs. I have to work eleven hours every solar cycle. There’s never enough energon. If you become my conjunx endura, you’ll have to slave away just to stay alive, too. I can’t do that to you.) I said. As horrible as it felt to call off my engagement, I couldn’t drag Illusion into the desperate poverty that I had somehow found myself in. It wouldn’t be fair to her, and living with a Conjunx Endura that I was unable to support would have been unbearably humiliating. Illusion frowned, but then nodded, apparently having realized the full costs of becoming my Conjunx Endura.

“ Saltem accipe pecuniam,” (At least let me give you some money) she said. Then she handed me a pile worth about 500 Shanix. Part of me wanted to reject it, but knowledge of my dire situation won out.

“ Optime. Gratias tibi,” (Very well. Thank you.) I replied.

“ Gratias. Bona fortuna,” (You’re welcome. Good luck.) she said. I deposited the Shanix in my subspace compartment, bid Illusion farwell, and then transformed into my alternate mode and departed from her estate. I dropped off the garbage at the dump, flew back to the transport station, where I received my (pitiful) wages, and then returned to Onslaught’s slum. Swindle and Vortex were waiting there for me.

“How many Shanix did you earn?” Swindle asked.

“Twelve. Thirteen...tips. 500...female,” I replied.

“500? We’re rich!” Vortex exclaimed. I deposited the Shanix in the container, as Swindle and Vortex enthusiastically speculated about what they would do with it all. About an hour later, Brawl returned home, deposited his earnings in the same container....and then stared at his younger brothers and me in shock.

“Where’d we get so much Shanix?” he asked loudly.

“Apparently, a girl gave Prissy a bunch of Shanix for some reason, and now we’re rich!” Vortex replied.

“That true?” Brawl asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

‘Huh. Maybe you ain’t as bad as I thought, Prissy,’ Brawl said. Coming from him, this was high praise indeed. Onslaught, upon his return to the hovel, was just as surprised.

“How did you manage to get this much Shanix?” he asked.

“Can’t explain...Neocybex. Don’t speak well,” I replied. Onslaught shrugged.

“I suppose that it doesn’t matter where we got it so long as we have it,” he said. That was all he said on the matter, and for most of the evening he treated me with the same hostility of the previous two nights. However, after his brothers had entered recharge, he walked over to me and actually gave me a look of what seemed to be respect.

“You’ve worked all day without a single complaint, and you managed to bring more than 500 shanix to my home with you...more than enough to keep Swindle and Vortex safe from the Enforcers the next time they come by. For that, I suppose I should thank you. I still don’t like you, but you’ve proven that you can earn your keep. You’re still our servant, but you’re now a member of the unit, which means that I’m not kicking you out. You do good work,” he said. With that, he went to his own recharging center and was quickly dead to the world, leaving me to my thoughts. As much as I hated the life I was now stuck in, at least I was no longer utterly hated by the mech whom I depended on for shelter. That, at least, was a positive development, and it is one that has stuck. The past six lunar cycles have been dreadfully humiliating, but at least there is one glimmer of hope. If I could win over Onslaught and his unit, then maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that all of us might be able to escape the festering wound that is Kaon.