#w/o a beard is very strange

[mist-touchedxiv]

Chapter 1

A warm wind blew across the plain, a welcome touch in the desert of Thanalan. However, it didn't provide any relief to the Hyur man who was being harassed by a group of bandits.

A solid kick to his stomach caused him to gasp as the wind was driven from his lungs.

"Ye gotta lotta nerve taking a drink from OUR well, scum," purred the cruel Mi'qote woman perched on the stone lip of the well in question. The rag tag group of intimidating men and women growled in agreement. A couple of bandits roughly picked up the man by each arm, one forcefully raised his chin so he could look the leader in the eyes.

"P-please..." the man wheezed weakly as the hot dry air began to fill his lungs again. "Th-this... well is the closest.... water source.... f-for my village... We don't have much-"

One of the bandits started to dramatically boo-hoo, a poor mummer's farce of the man's dilemma.

"Oy! I keep telling ye, ye need to do comedy," squawked another bandits delightedly, the others roared with laughter in agreement.

The bandit leader lazily stretched and crossed her legs on her perch. "Just consider us members of the community who are guarding the well. We have to make our vittles too. How about... 10,000 gil a moon? We'll also take other goods and sundries if you can't afford the coin."

"Th-that's impossible," sputtered the Hyur man. "We're only a small mining town! W-we can't meet that deman-" Stars exploded across the man's vision as the Mi'qote leader slapped him across the face.

As the pain and stars receded, the Hyur numbly noticed something strange behind the bandits. The sound of a loud slurp startled the leader who hopped with incredible alacrity off the well wall with a hiss. Somehow a tall man dressed in blue Doman clothing in a large straw hat had managed to approach the group unseen in the open wasteland. The assembled group couldn't help but stare nonplussed as the stranger took another deep slurp of the cool water from the well. Next to him, a thin long package wrapped in canvas rested against the well.

For a moment, a stunned silence filled the air, punctuated only by the breeze and the squeaking of the windmill that drew the life-giving water in the well. And the stranger's noisy drinking.

"O-oy! Who the hells is this git," barked the wannabe mummer, breaking the silence after a long beat. The gang's attention was now on the newcomer and they were feeling very tense.

The stranger wiped ran his thumb along his stubbly beard as he let out a satisfied sigh. He nudged up the hat and considered them with bright blue eyes. "Just thirsty," came the reply, his voice pleasant with an accent unfamiliar in Eorzea.

"You gotta pay a toll to use OUR well," growled a scarred Elezen. "Ye would do well not to end up like this unfortunate scum." He lashed out with his foot at the man they'd been bullying but found naught but air as he had crawled away during the silence.

The stranger in blue paid them no heed as he filled up a water skin calmly. A particularly rough looking Hrothgar stomped over to him. "Ye got dust in your ears," he roared as he reached a huge hand over to grab the stranger's hat. "I'll fi-" There was a sharp crack as the stranger suddenly lashed out with inhuman speed and drove the end of the wrapped package into the throat of the Hrothgar who let out a coughing mew as he fell over, his hand taking the hat with him to reveal a mane of black hair with azure streaks and two long leoprine ears. The wrapping fell from the package to reveal what appeared to be a Garlean gunblade sheathed, but the blade was slightly shorter and appeared to be missing the barrel.

"Hells... it's a Viera male..." breathed the gang leader as the rarity of such a pretty creature registered with her. He had to be worth something. A lot of somethings. Possibly more than their water scheme. To their credit, the rest of the gang seemed to have already come to the same realization and drew their weapons and began to surround the blue stranger.

The Viera put his hand on the hilt of his blade, readying himself. "Trust me... it's not worth it," he said quietly, sensing their intentions. "Walk away." The leader let out a harsh cackle as she nocked an arrow on her bow.

"Got ye dead to rights, now be a good pretty bunny and come with us," she purred, aiming to pin his foot. Didn't want to damage the goods too much.

The wind blew.

The wind mill creaked.

The villains brandished their weapons with unspoken threats of violence.

Crystalline blue eyes regarded their surroundings.

Suddenly, the wind died and the Mi'qote let the arrow loose.

Her aim was true, but the target was gone. In a flash of steel, the man had seemed to dance his way through the ring of bandits with the grace and power of a surging river. The Mi'qote blinked surprised, suddenly spinning around to find the Viera behind her.

She snarled "I got ye no-" She suddenly realized that her bow was no longer stringed, having been cut during the mad dance of the swordsman. With a definitive click as he fully sheathed his blade again, the ground shook slightly as the whole gang crumpled to the dirt. They were still breathing but were not having a good time.

Time seemed to standstill for eternity. Then the wind blew again and brought them back to the present.

".... Go," ordered the Viera and the gang complied, disappearing in a cloud of dust.

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

When Morty jumped and turned around to confront the person touching him, instead of an unusually touchy-feely crew member, it's Rick he saw, laughing.

"O-oh-ho-ho, th-eugh-the kitten has c-claws," he chuckled, taking a swing out of his signature bottle. "D-didn't w-want to give y-euhh-ou a fright."

"I-i-it's o-okay, you didn't- you didn't scare me," Morty stammered, ignoring the fact that his head was throbbing at the same quick tempo his heart was beating. Self-consciously, Morty reached back, rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck. Rick Sanchez was the only person in the whole universe who could make him feel like this with just the intense stare of his eyes.

"Y-euhhg-ou b-became a man since we s-st-ugh-arted our j-journey, d-d-didn't you, Kitten?" He asked with a strange smile on his face, caressing Morty's stubbled cheek. Morty blushes at both the unexpected, yet very much welcomed touch, and the blotchy stubble he wore that looked more like a bald baby bird than a proper beard.

He only noticed the growing hair a few days ago. Getting lost track of how long they've been in space, he didn't really know how old he was exactly when his beard grew, but it was a greatly expected moment in his life. Still, even if he noticed it, nobody else did, as the hair was so fine and it only grew in patches. But Rick noticed.

Morty told his excited heart to shut up and be quiet.

"I-I-I g-guess so," he chuckled self-consciously, the bright red slowly creeping down on his neck.

"D-d-eugh-o-o you w-want me to t-t-take care of t-that for you?" Rick asked, and even he was standing upright, Morty managed to almost trip over the mop he held in his hands.

"W-w-w-wha-at?" He stammered even harder than usual.

Rick softly caressed a patch of fine hair on his chin, "I-I guess nob-bleugh-ody thought y-you how to s-shave. I can d-do i-it for you."

Morty's inside turned into a warm, gooey mush, dropping his mop as his knees and arms weakened. "I-i- y-you, s-sure?" he blushed, looking up at the bigger man from under his eyelashes.

"G-good. I m-mean, fine, if you w-w-eugh-ant me to," Rick coughed, sending a wink that made Morty's knees even shakier. The young boy wondered if Rick was really that oblivious, or he knew it very much what he was doing with Morty's feelings. "Come then."

As the ship's cook - and scientist, mechanist, and everything in-between -, Rick had the luxury to have his own sleeping quarter. A tiny one, but still better than any of the crew member's. Morty hesitated following the cyborg down his room, not because he was afraid, but because of the possible intimacy of the shaving. He wasn't sure his young, overly excited heart could deal with that.

But he followed Rick. He would follow him anywhere.

"C-come on in, K-itten," Rick chuckled. "W-welcome to my l-lab," he said, opening his arms in a 'this is me' gesture.

It really was a lab. The tiny space was packed full of various chemicals and mechanical parts, everything screaming Rick to him. The smell of him concentrated in the stale air, mixed with the potent smell of alcohol and other substances, overwhelming Morty's senses. He wanted nothing more than wrapping himself around with Rick's smell and presence. Being there was the second best thing.

"W-well, co-eugh-me on, sit," he motioned to the only chair in the room, next to a small table that held a bowl of water, a bar of soap and a crumpled towel. Morty sat.

Swinging a mouthful of the bottle that never seemed to be out of alcohol, Rick held it out as an offering. "W-want some, Kitten," he asked, burping in the middle of the question.

Nodding, Morty accepted with shaking hands, and took a sip. It was strong, stronger than anything he tasted before, but it instantly took the edge of some of his nervousness, so he swallowed another mouthful before giving the bottle back to it's owner.

Rick raised an impressed eyebrow. "H-huh, look at that, K-Kitten c-ough-an hold his own."

Morty could barely stop himself from blurting out, 'I broke into my alcoholic mother's liquor cabinet when I was twelve. She always had lots of alcohol that she was addicted to ever since her father left her when she got pregnant with my sister, and I wanted to know why her drinks made her so drowsy."

"I c-can take a l-l-lot of things," he said insteady unintentionally suggestively.

Rick just shook his head, smirking at the blushing boy. "W-well, let's get started!"

Taking the towel off the table, Rick laid it on Morty's shoulders to cover his chest. Walking behind the sitting boy, Morty could feel himself getting more and more tense, not seeing what he was doing. The big form of Rick Sanchez was towering over his back, his full chest pressing against Morty's back, his warmth sweeping into his bones. Suddenly, the boy couldn't breathe, his inside was like a jelly, quivering and malleable. He wouldn't have mind to experience the feeling of Rick's closeness in other settings too.

He could feel Rick's breath hitting the back of his head at every exhale, and Morty could smell the foul scent of alcohol in it. It told a lot of things about the boy that instead of being repulsed, he wanted to taste it from inside the source.

"Pass-s me those t-things, w-will ya?" Rick asked, raising a finger towards the bar of soap and the bowl of water. Morty leaned forward, then offered them to the older man. "H-o-eugh-ld the water," he instructed, and Morty did. He could hear the splashes of the water as Rick worked the soap between his palms - one flesh, other cybernetic - to coax out the suds.

"I-I'll put the lather o-on your f-burp-ace, then c-clean it away," Rick explained the process.

Morty had only one question. "W-where's th-the r-razor?"

A whirring sound, a click and a swoosh could be heard, and Rick reached around to show the gleaming blade in the stead of his cybernetic hand. A shiver ran through Morty's body, and even he couldn't decide whether that was because he was afraid or turned on.

Well, the latter, definitely, but maybe a bit of the former too.

"L-let's g-get started th-eugh-then, Kitten," Rick said. Morty didn't feel ready for Rick's organic hand to cup the back of his neck, large and heavy and warm, tilting his head the way he wanted, smearing slippery suds all over his face. He was not ready for the gentle touches as Rick coated his face with lather. Morty had to remind himself to keep breathing.

He was even less prepared for the dangerous pressure of Rick's blade as it slid across his cheeks, carving a clean line through the lather. Morty exhaled shakily.

He is shaving me, he thought dazedly.

Rick worked uncharacteristically slow, getle and cautious even if he was more than a little intoxicated. It never even o cured Morty that he could have been in danger. He was too gone on Rick for that, too trusting and dependent.

Before long, Morty had to move to accommodate Rick's reach, now that he was shaving the other side of his face with short, precise strokes. The press of the razor, Rick's gentle hand on his face, the feeling of his chest on his back, being surrounded by Rick's tights, he felt like he was floating. He wanted that moment to never end. Morty wipes his sweaty palms in his pants, hoping Rick wouldn't notice his nerves.

"A-another sip?" Rick asked, and Morty nodded eagerly. Gripping the neck of the bottle, Morty took a gulp for himself to steel his nerves, then passed it to the older man. When Rick burped and handed it back to Morty, the bottle was empty, not a drop of liquid in it. He hoped the closeness affected Rick as much as it affected him.

The last few strokes were finished too soon. Morty could have fallen asleep, using Rick's chest as a pillow, the repetitive motions lulling him, relaxing him, at the same time, exciting him like nothing before. Not even Jessica, the redhead from home, nor any of the beauties he saw before boarding the ship. They were so close to each other like never before, and Morty wanted to savor the feeling of Rick's body pressed firmly against his. The old man's flat stomach, his strong tights, his… he swallowed. Morty's buzzed mind couldn't help but wonder if he could take that big cock that was pressed against his back. Probably not, it felt too big even behind clothes. But he could take him in his mouth, or between his thighs, allowing Rick to use him like his personal toy. Morty knew it would feel good.

He had to bite back the disappointed whine when the old man's hands left his face. As the task was done, way too soon, disappointment flooded his body. He wanted it to last forever, to hold on these new feelings. Without Rick's hand to warm him, he felt cold, cold and alone, even if the room didn't left much space for them to be far away from each other. Yet, as soon as the shaving was finished, it was as if a gate closed between them. Rick on one side, and him on the other.

He wanted to weep.

He could still feel Rick's breathing against his back, his chest pushing against him, the slightest pressure of his hand on his shoulder. Yet he never felt farther away from Morty.

At once, the weird tension disappeared as Rick slapped his hands together, his cybernetic one once again razorless. "T-these you g-go. S-smooth, l-like a ba-aaaaugh-by's butt." Morty wasn't sure if he just imagined the strain in Rick's voice or not.

"T-t-thank you," he whispered, not confident enough to be able to talk in his normal voice. He smoothed a hand on his cheek, imagining he could still feel Rick's much bigger hand on it, feeling the old man's precise work.

Rick did that.

Rick shaved him.

Rick caressed him.

Morty felt dizzy. It must have been the alcohol, as was the weakness in his legs when he tried to get up. He must have been more intoxicated than he thought.

(Intoxicated on Rick, his mind traitorously added.)

"T-th-thanks," he repeated. His legs were unsteady under him, but they were just doing fine, as he realized he was already in front of the door, unconsciously trying to escape from the overwhelming emotions.

He hesitated for a moment, a beat of anxious, uncomfortable silence. Then he pushed the door open, bolting out like his life depended on it.

The sudden burst of energy was gone by the time he closed the door behind him. Needing a moment for himself, he leaned against the door, trying to keep his heart from exploding, and regulating his breathing, he heard it.

A deep groan, muffled, but distinguishable, then a mumbled, "Y-euhhg-ou are too o-old for this shit. H-huh co-ough-ld be your g-grandson, for f-fuck's sake."

Warmth flooded his body. He wasn't the only one having feelings for the other, after all.

[chronicparagon]

┠┨w/nagisa please

O┠┨ While trying to check out, our muses realize there are no exits, only an endless maze of rooms.

The trip back home from the swim meet became a living nightmare. Torrential rain pelted the earth with lightning flashing in the black sky. Harmony tried to call the others who went ahead in their own vehicles, but she never had any luck. There was no reception for miles. Rei and the others would be calling Nagisa for any updates on their travels. If only they could just get a signal!

 The rain became so thick with the roads along the mountainside becoming more slick as time went on, Nagisa and Harmony had no choice but to seek shelter. 

As luck would have it, they came to a peculiar ryokan nestled into the mountainside far from civilization. It seems to have aged over the years with only the warm glow of lanterns lighting the way. There is no sense of serenity on the premises, but there is something that seems very odd, something sinister about the old inn. 

The garden bears plants long dead from years of negligence. The pond water is pitch black with an unusual, metallic stench in the air mixed with sulphur. Even the large trees hunched over with healed branches that bear no leaves.

Harmony hesitated at first, but beggars can’t be choosers. There is no way the pair could venture on in such dangerous weather. 

However, the innkeeper seems quite friendly. An elderly man with an almost unnatural smile on his face as he wears black and red. His white hair hangs down to the middle of his back and his matching beard hangs to his chest. He warmly greeted  Nagisa and Harmony when they checked in and without hesitation; he led them down the long corridors with doors lining both sides. The carpet is bright red, bright enough to be seen through the darkness. Though the innkeeper had a lantern with him

Where was the staff? Or the other guests? 

Harmony wondered that, but she set her worry aside at first. Perhaps they are asleep. It was so late in the night after all. 

That worry came back the next morning. It was still as grim and dark as the night before. The wilds howled outside, making the panes and door frames rattle. When Nagisa and Harmony left their room, they did not find the innkeeper. Nor did they see any staff or guests. There was not another soul. The corridors seem much longer than they did last night. 

A horrible, musty odor mingled with notes of decay and brimstone followed them as they searched for the end of the corridor...

Only to find nothing but more and more of it with countless doors. 

Fear weighs heavier and heavier on the two as they search for a way out, opening doors into rooms and suites that appear to have not been cleaned in ages.  Cobwebs adorn the walls and corners with what looks like old black water stains over the walls. Furniture bear layers of dust and unusual stains, and the floors creak like the countless stairs they climbed to search for any sign of escape. Tatami mats covered in reddish-brown stains in forms of pools or splatters. They searched on an on, finding no sign on the wall, or another person who could give them directions out. 

It was strange. There was someone there last night! Harmony is sure of it. Nagisa is with her, and he has seen and heard the same things she did. 

Is...Is she losing her mind? This place seems much bigger than it did last night. What on Earth is really going on? 

Questions flood Harmony’s mind as they continue to twist and turn through the halls and check every door to find no way out. Then, Harmony stops. 

“Nagisa...Do you hear that?” Harmony asks and turns away from the blond when she hears weeping. It was very soft, but it sounded like someone crying after suffering a grave loss. “Nagisa?” She looks around and she doesn’t see him anywhere! 

“Huh…I guess he went ahead to look for the sound. I’ll do the same...” Her body trembles as she continues her trek onward. The sobbing grows louder with every step closer. Her stomach churns and she hears her own blood pumping in her ears. Eyes search for any sign of life, unaware that Nagisa is not near her, but was led to another sound further down the hall. 

The girl stops before a red, wooden door where the cries are louder.

 Strange. 

Why is it red and not dark brown like the others?  It appears unlocked like the other rooms, but there are torn charms and talisman pinned over the door. “H-Hello?” Harmony knocks on the door. “Is anyone there?” She waits for a moment. The sobs don’t stop and she doesn’t hear Nagisa either. “Nagisa? N-Nagisa are you in there?” Still no answer. She thought he may have entered this room before her, but he would have said something if that’s the case. 

Teeth sink into her bottom lip as her hand hovers over the doorknob. 

Is he okay? Is there really someone there?

She swallows hard as her hand gingerly rests on the doorknob. “H-hey. Are you okay?” She asks timidly? “Don’t...D-don’t be scared. My name is Harmony, and I came here last night with Nagisa. Have you seen him? We...We can help you.” The cries becoming much louder and more clear. 

She shouldn’t. Oh, Harmony knows she shouldn’t, but she must know if Nagisa is in there and whoever is in the room is okay. “O-okay...Listen...I’m coming in, okay? I won’t hurt you.” She speaks louder, hoping she can be heard and with a deep breath, Harmony opens the door and steps into the room.

Then, Harmony heart leaps into her throat as she screams on top of her lungs.

There was a horrid sight waiting them in one room that was once a lavish suite. 

Colored rice paper adorning the doors faded with reddish-brown splatters and handprints staining them. Noh masks line the walls. Their empty eyes stare down at the young travelers and they seem to be smiling. 

Yes, they were smiling in twisted ways as soft whispers fill the room. The crying is no more, but there are dark rumblings surrounding her. 

 Bloodstained charms and brittle bones litter the floor, and she feels a terrible presence looming behind her. Her feet freeze on the floor. 

Why can’t I run? I need to run! RUN!

She squeaks when she hears a dark chuckle behind her. The masculine voice is grating and drips with pure malice. Who or what this entity is has no intention of letting her escape while Nagisa is lost in the labyrinth outside. 

 She doesn’t dare look back. She can’t. She just can’t! Surely, if she does, then she may die from pure fright! 

Frantically, Harmony throws her head back as she screams, hoping Nagisa can hear her in the twisted maze. 

“NAGISA! NAGISA, HELP! PLEASE, COME QUICK!” 

@strawberrycolaaa

[farminglesbian]

Trailer - Rollover (1981) Alan J. Pakula

[monsterfloofs]

Could you please write something with a travelling adventurer who stumbles in an old castle and meets a king necromancer who hasn’t met any travellers in quite some time and becomes quite enamoured with them whilst being charming because you can’t spell Necromancer without Romancer. (Sorry for the cringy rhyme I just got the idea when seeing the word and finally zeroing in on that fact.) Thank you for reading and I hope you have a lovely day!

Necromancer King (Unnamed) x Anonymous Reader :3c (Sfw)

—

Heya, heya! Oh my gosh, don’t apologize at all! That is absolutely fantastic! ;O; ) I love jokes and play on words like that! Please send more, this made my day ;3; )

I have been trying to debate for a bit if I should make a new spooky spook, or use an OC of mine who also fit’s this asks criteria, also— I made this funny because I thought it would be hilarious, if he was trying so hard to pretend to be just a normal king and his skelly army of doofuses keep panicking and trying to dodge around you and hide— “Quick they’re coming!! Try and act normal—!” “Oh, for the love of— We haven’t been normal for 30 years Geoffry! We are the living dead! >:(”

—

You couldn’t help but feel that something was a little off in the castle. If the strange purple flames that illuminated the dark and eerie corridors weren’t strange enough. Just about everything was skull shaped, skull platters, skull mugs, skull goblets, even the tea spoons. They were ornate and of beautiful craftsmanship, but it was like nothing like you had ever seen before.

“None of it is real of course!” The King had chuckled as you peered slightly off-puttingly at the soup bowl that had been set in front of you. It was very nearly human sized, with enough fine details you could have mistaken it for a real head. One that had been hollowed out, just for the sole purpose of serving soup.

“You do seem to like skulls,” you reply cautiously as you offer up a smile. He clears his throat, and takes a healthy swig from his goblet of wine.

“It was. . . my fathers’ idea for all the skulls,” He replies hastily, “If you would prefer, I could have someone fetch a different bowl.”

You tense in surprise then shake your head, “Oh no, sire! No need! You have been more than hospitable to me already, I would feel selfish to ask for anything more!” You glance back at the soup bowl on the table, and make your decision. Not one to waste a hot meal that was offered to you, you tuck in. The soup was delicious, just as fine as the meals that had come before. Despite the way it was presented to you.

It’s true, the time you have been allowed to stay at the castle was more than generous. You had been getting ready to leave the night before, but the king himself had persuaded you to stay for another few nights. For the past week you had stayed mostly by his side. Conversing with him and chatting. You can’t remember the last time meeting someone that had hung onto every word you spoke. Especially not royalty, and you had been immensely charmed by the way he took special care in recalling what you had to say.

“I haven’t heard word from the outside world for a very long time.” He confided in you gently one evening. While the two of you had sat in front of a warm crackling hearth. “It’s been like a breath of fresh air to me,” How could you possibly choose to leave after such words like that were uttered in your confidence?

You had taken a liking to him as soon as you met him. A short and stout gentleman with a well trimmed beard and mustache. A few streaks of silver that alighted in his dark hair. He was good natured and seemed to be of good spirits, for he always seemed to be smiling when you were present. He must be a fair ruler, you thought to yourself as you walk the long twisting corridors back to your temporary chambers.

However. . . The other occupants that resided inside the walls struck a different chord with you. The knights you would meet in the corridors seemed to be highly keen on avoiding you. Whenever you passed by, they would turn away, or leave their post. Unheard of and strange, it had surprised you immensely when you first arrived. Soldiers turning their back on a castle guest? It made you wonder if your warm welcome wasn’t as warm as the ruler had made it sound upon your arrival. Yet once you would get to conversing with his majesty, those niggling thoughts would evaporate.

The clatter of armour of two of knights echoes down the hallway as they ran headlong into each other. One had tried to quickly turn the corner, when they had seen you coming. You wince, shoulders rounding up to either side of your face. You peek out around splayed fingers,

“A-are you alright?”

“Of course!” They quickly press their hands ontop of their helmet, “Never better!”

You watch the pair hurry off and a frown creases your forehead.

—

“See what you almost did?” One soldier blusters at the other as they reach a safe place to converse. The other taking off their helmet, revealing the chalky white pallor of bone. Deep eye sockets have a faint light that flickers to life as they grind their jaw to one side of their face.

“Me? Whose idea was it to come charging around the corner! You are acting suspiciously! I bet my left humerus that they already know something is afoot. You haven’t been exactly covert. Dodging around corners and skulking around!”

“Keep your helmet on!” The other hisses, “If the mortal finds out before his majesty can talk to them, we’ll both be buried out in the gardens again!”

The two ghouls glare at each other before they sigh heavily.

Well. They sigh as heavily as one can without any internal organs to sigh with.

“This is happiest the King has been in a very long time—“

“Of course it had to be with a mortal, why couldn’t he have gotten wed to a good normal creature of darkness.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

For mermay, #25 siren for Sternclay, rating up to you? Thank you so much, I love your fics!

Here you go! I went with SFW and it's set in the same universe as the other siren prompt I got this year

Joseph has sailed so far over the horizon of regret that he’s landed right back on the shores of resolve.

The highway curves through low mountains, extends in interminable straight lines of super-heated asphalt, and he drives both stretches with purpose, eyes fixed on his goal so as not to see the last forty-eight hours lurking in his rearview mirror.

When the sign reading “Kepler: Population 3,000 on land, 50 in water” reflects the setting sun he slumps back in the driver seat, too tired to be glad, excited, afraid, or anything else at all.

He passes the Cryptonomica, proclaiming itself the premier place to learn about the Roadside Sirens. Rolling his eyes means he nearly misses the drawbridge warning, the barrier dropping and bridge rising to allow a small sailboat to pass. It’s aboard this he sees his first siren; dappled tail hanging in the water as she converses with the other passenger and waves to the siren working the bridge.

The bridge lowers and he continues forward as the early evening overtakes the main road. Neon crackles to life, creosote and rabbitbrush drift through the window when he rolls it down. The sign on Amnesty Lodge declares vacancies, so he pulls into the parking lot. It’s a strange lay-out, little cabins dotting the patches of pools that, once upon a time, must have been enclosed in rooms. Now they glisten under the emerging stars, some surrounded by lawn chairs and set ups to play horseshoes or cornhole. The building housing the lobby is precariously perched on the bank of the slow flowing river, another building whose neon is unlit sitting beside it. He pays the young lady at the counter for a week to week cabin and lugs the remainders of his life inside.

In the bathroom mirror, the wear of this trip is clear in the wrinkles on his suit and the dust on his shoes. He strips down, rinses off, and heads into the night in his shorts and T-shirt from Puget Sound. On a whim he turns right, follows a trail that leads him into the state park. He pays the five dollar fee in a little envelope as he continues on his way. Just as he reaches a scenic viewpoint, the singing starts.

Joseph can’t see any of the singers, can only pick up six or so distinct voices swirling around him.

It’s said the roadside sirens will tell you what you need.

It’s said the roadside sirens are the only way Kepler gets new residents

It’s said the roadside sirens will lead you to your hearts desire.

It’s said the roadside sirens are not always gentle.

All that tugs at Joseph’s heart is exhaustion. When footsteps creak across the boards behind him, he turns to find a man in a ranger uniform. Their eyes meet a moment and the man nods in greeting, “Evenin sir, you got any questions?”

“What do you hear when they sing?”

The ranger shrugs, “I hear them singin’. Never been all that susceptible to ‘em. Well, except for one, but he don’t sing all that often and the last time it was to tell me he missed me while I was out here workin’.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow. The man comes close enough for him to see his name tag. All it says is, “Duck.”

Duck chuckles, leans his arms on the railing, “S’okay, most folks don’t believe me when I tell ‘em that. See, thing about sirens is, you gotta have unfulfilled desires for the song to take hold. First time I was in Kepler, didn’t have a goddamn clue what I wanted from life. When I came back, found the two things I wanted right away. Been pretty content since.” He glances at Joseph, “why, you hear somethin that worries you?”

“I don’t hear anything besides-”

A burst of blue and orange light spills across them; the building beside Amnesty Lodge has come to life, and Joseph can see a line out the door from here. More importantly, someone is singing and his body moves towards the source without him noticing.

“I mean, if your main want is you’re hungry, Lodge is a damn good place to start. Put Kepler on the map. Or, uh, guess the sirens put it there and the Lodge kept it there once the novelty wore off.

“Uhumm” Joseph nods, waving an absentminded goodnight as he follows the path back to the Lodge. He’s about to join the others waiting to get through the door when he gets a flash of an image; a draft on a desk, announcing the Lodge needed a cooks assistant.

What the hell, it’s worth a try right?

A knock on the back door summons an older man in a “Joshua Tree” shirt.

“Howdy, if you’re lookin for the line-”

“I’m here about the assistant job.”

“Uhh, o-kay. Not the best time for it, but follow me.”

The man leads him down a set of stairs to a kitchen that is half in and half out of the water in a way that defies logic and physics. Swimming about are several sirens, plus two humans on the shore, cooking and sending food up to the main building in a dance that borders on chaos. In the middle of it all is a siren with a deep copper tail that matches his short beard and long hair tied back in a bun.

“Barclay! You got a minute?”

“Not really!”

“Okay then. I’ll just have this fella wait in your office until dinner rush is over.”

“Sure great yeah Moira wheres the crawfish for table ten?”

Which is how Joseph finds himself sitting in a cabin, twiddling his thumbs. His manners fight his boredom until he pulls a paperback from the nearby shelf and loses himself in the exploits of a someone recreating dishes from ancient civilizations. Doesn’t look up until the door opens and the same man, now with legs instead of that beautiful tail, walks in.

“Phew” he shuts the door with a satisfied smile, rests his head on the wood, then whirls and slams his back against it when Joseph clears his throat.

“GAHWHATTHEFUCK”

“I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you heard, um, Thacker, tell you he was having me wait here.”

“W-wait here for wh--Oh, oh right, the assistant thing.” The siren scrubs his face, “yeah, uh, guess Mama must've put the ad out. Uh, would you say you’re organized?”

“Extremely. But honestly it doesn’t seem like you need that much help on that front.”

A deep, rich laugh, “I cleaned this morning, last night it looked like an earthquake hit this place. Guessing from the fact you didn’t freak out in the kitchen you’re cool with the supernatural?”

“Yes. It’s an area of interest for me.”

There’s suspicion in Barclay’s voice, hidden but very much present, “why’d you end up in Kepler?”

“I came here on purpose. I wanted to be somewhere where strange things were celebrated and out in the open. Not...not kept from the world.”

Barclay leans back on his desk, arms crossed, “Where’d you work before now?”

“The…” he sighs, resigns himself to finding somewhere else to go, “the FBI. UP branch, I was at Nellis when they, um, relieved me of my duties.”

For a long moment, Barclay studies him. Then he turns to his desk, setting stacks of papers in order as he hums. Joseph closes his eyes, takes calming breaths; all he wants is to be safe, to not have to run. All he wants is for Barclay to hold him, he’s never seen a man so handsome and a useless, primal part of him fixates on that fact. Also he’s starving, god, he hasn’t eaten since his breakfast of black coffee.

Barclay stops humming, “Come with me.”

Joseph follows him back down into the strange kitchen (“couple of friends of mine are pretty powerful magicians. They rigged up the kitchen for me”). All the lights are off, and without them he discovers Barclay’s eyes glow an eerie yellow-green. When he smiles, Joseph sees only the points on his teeth, not the crinkle at the edge of his eyes.

“Hungry?” Barclay rumbles.

“Starving.”

“You eat fish?”

“...Yes?” Will the wrong answer get him drowned.

The cook leaps towards the water, tail appearing and clothes vanishing at the last moment before he hits the dark surface. Joseph stands, on edge and curious, until the siren emerges, newly-dead trout in his hands.

“Tastes best fresh.” Barclay swims to his grill, turning it on in a click of a knob.

“Why not just stay human when you cook?” Joseph makes his way over to the station as Barclay butchers the fish and sets it into a heavily buttered pan.

“The charm only holds for so long before I need to be back in the water, and I get so busy during meals I don’t want to risk passing out because I went too long on shore. Besides” he spins elegantly to grab two spice jars, “I learned to cook in the water, so this is the most natural way for me.”

“Fascinating.” Joseph sits down, keeping himself out of arms reach of the water. Barclay seems nice, but sirens did not become famous for offering people things and then following through; hundreds of dead travelers prove that much.

“Where are you from?”

“Chicago, originally.”

“Ever see the great lake mers?”

“No.” He can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s only learning of their existence now.

“Quite a few out there. Sirens too.”

Well, that introduces some new reasons for all the shipwrecks.

“How do you know? Are you from there?”

“Nah. Been in Kepler my whole life. Even during the bad years, singing people into that godawful, overpriced casino buffet. Convincing them the shitty cold cuts were prime rib.” His hand stills a moment, clenches and then releases, “yeah. Every now and then” he starts chopping shallots, “one of the drunks would get it into their heads to pet the sirens tail or hair and I had to sit there and let them. My tail” he shudders, swipes the shallots into the pan so roughly Joseph starts.

“Sorry.” Barclay mumbles.

“Don’t be. I’m on edge, that’s all. And you have every right to be angry. Being forced to do something you know is wrong is....there’s no winning.”

“That why you just want a place to feel safe?”

It’s so easy to confess in the darkness of the cave.

“I put up too much of a fight about something. Refused to do something that went against my conscience. They let me go, which I feared but expected. Then I found my bank accounts were cut off and someone had manipulated the records to say I’d been fired for criminal activity so it’d be harder to find a job.”

A clink of metal on china, and then Barclay is holding a plate out to him with tenderness in his eyes, “I’m so sorry, Joseph. Here, at least you won’t be hungry.”

Joseph murmurs out his thanks.

“You a wine drinker?”

“Right now I could certainly go for some.”

A few flicks of that stunning tail and Barclay returns with a glass of white for each of them.

“To getting free of shitty pasts.” The cook raises his glass and Joseph bumps his against it. Barclay brings it to his lips, but smiles rather than sip, “and by the way: you got the job.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Being Barclay’s assistant is fifty percent clerical work and fifty percent following the siren around as he gathers ingredients or tests recipes. On Ned Chicane’s recommendation, Barclay had published a cookbook of both traditional siren foods and his own creations. It became a bestseller which, among other things, means Joseph has a brand new wardrobe, regular deliveries of gourmet food, and his cabin is now full of books. Whenever he points out that Barclay is already paying him and doesn’t need to buy him things, the siren simply rubs their cheeks together (a thing Joseph is only now getting used to) and tells him he likes doing it.

So when he’s not getting his recipes in order or typing up scribbled note cards into something legible, he’s following Barclay on foot or in a boat while he harvests or buys ingredients. Sirens have permission to fish and forage in areas, including the park, that humans don’t, which means he runs into Duck and his siren husband, Indrid, on more than one occasion while hauling lines into the boat.

The one time it gets stuck, Barclay pulls it out all on his own. Almost like he’s showing off the muscles in his back, arms, and tail.

The only thing Joseph won’t do is get in the water with the siren. He can’t get the images of drowned sailors, of fishermen torn to shreds, from his mind. Barclay is powerful, sharp-toothed and slit-pupiled, dangerous yet so gentle he once purred when Joseph complimented his food. And if Joseph never goes in the water with him, he’ll never have to confront the fact he wouldn’t mind if those pointed teeth dug into his skin and that tail trapped his legs while he thrashed in Barclay’s hold.

He assumes Barclay doesn’t notice; after all, swamps and marshes, even the river, are far less suited to a human swimming in them than an ocean or lake. This conclusion is bolstered by Barclay never, ever asking him to join him in the water. The siren is less careful about singing; he usually just hums as he works, but sometimes he sings wordlessly and Joseph nearly dives head first into the water (Barclay’s lap, if they’re on land).

Tonight, he’s cleaning up after Barclay’s test session of new recipes in the kitchen. The cook went out to visit some friends who live further in the state park, so when his voice drifts across the stones Joseph is surprised.

Cool, calloused hands on his cheeks, a tail stroking his thighs, his lips tracing up a sturdy leg. Copper hair twined in his fingertips, a heart beating in time with his own, teeth sinking into his skin, marking him, claiming him.

Water fills his nose and his body jerks back to the present, standing up in the shallow water that he stepped and stumbled face-first into.

“Joseph? Oh fuck, are you okay?” Barclay rounds the corner, swimming over to look up at him with concern.

“Yes. I, um, I think I got caught up in your song.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were already upstairs or I wouldn’t have sung so loud. I know you can’t swim.”

“I can.” Joseph kneels, face down-turned in shame, “I was scared to, um, to be in the water with you. It’s, I was afraid of what might happen.”

Barlay swims back, “you thought I was gonna eat you?”

“No! Or, um, at first I didn’t want to foolishly assume that sirens in Kepler were harmless, since death isn’t high on my to-do list. Then I thought suddenly starting to swim would tip you off to the fact I’d been suspicious and I didn’t want to hurt you.” He runs a hand through his hair, “that song, though, Barclay, lord almighty is that what I want?”

“It’s what I want, I never sang it to bring you to me.”

“Oh.”

Barclay swims back to him, rubs their cheeks together, “Can I try something?”

“Anything” is all he gets out before he’s pulled into deeper water. He gasps for air, his own moans ricocheting across the room as Barclay bites his shoulder. On instinct his body tries to tread water, but copper scales trap his legs together, keep him flush against Barclay’s body.

“It’s okay babe, you can relax. I got you, I could keep us both afloat in my sleep.” He hums as he trails his lips across Joseph’s throat, “you’re safe. You’re with me.”

“Don’t make me leave.” The song pulls it out of him, because he wants to say it, wants to admit that losing what he has in Kepler terrifies him, just so he can hear-

“Never. You make me so fucking happy.” Barclay kisses him tenderly, keeps tracking his bite marks with a finger, “please stay. Stay for as long as you want."

"What if I want forever?" He rests his face on Barclay's shoulder as the siren spins them, dance-like, in the water.

"I think we can manage that."

[carewyncromwell]

[HPHM] Carewyn Cromwell and Orion Amari Cinderella AU Moodboard

x~x~x~x

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms at war -- the land of Royaume with rolling valleys and mountain ranges, and the land of Florence by the southeastern sea. Their conflict had started fifty years ago, rooted in a territory dispute that blew up in an assassination and full-scale war. Since then, the royal family of Royaume, including the young Prince Henri, was kept under very tight house-arrest. It also resulted in many families gaining status and power in the two nation’s governments through investing in war.

One of those such families in the nation of Royaume were the Cromwells, led by the cold and ruthless Lord Charles Cromwell. The Cromwells put in a lot of their own money investing in the War, and those investments only came back to them tenfold, making them incredibly wealthy and very well-regarded among Royaume’s royal court. The King of Royaume needed all of the financial assistance he could get -- especially since he’d spent a lot of money to hire a mercenary from an outside country to assassinate the Crown Prince of Florence in an attempt to end the War, only for the War to go on unabated when the King of Florence coughed up a replacement heir. And as luxurious as the Royaumanian palace and many of its country estates looked, a lot of the lower classes weren’t getting their fair share, around paying for the soldiers at war. There were rumors that Florence was better-off, since they simply used black magic to make money and food appear out of fat air, but that was widely considered to be unfounded rumors. Royaumanians were very distrustful of magic and those who practiced it, and Florence’s harboring of witches and wizards didn’t do much to endear the common man to their enemy country.

This was why, one day at the local market in Royaume’s capital, there was a lot of fuss made when one of the street vendors -- an old miser named Argus Filch --  suspected a strange man of buying ingredients for a potion.

“I’m not stupid, boy,” said Mr. Filch, looking over the stranger with suspicion. “You think those things you’ve been picking up like a crow look like anything other than some kind of black magic recipe?”

The stranger in question -- a young, tanned, black-eyed man with a beard and slightly-too-long dark hair -- responded with remarkable calm.

“I assure you, sir, black magic is certainly not my intention,” he said quietly.

“Oh yeah?” challenged Mr. Filch. “What’s all this for, then?”

“A friend,” the young man answered.

“A friend, eh? Some nasty old witch in the forest, I’m sure -- thinking of mixing up some poison potion -- ”

“Is there a problem here?”

Both men looked up, very startled.

A young lady astride a white horse had just come to a stop beside them. She was dressed in a light yellow gown with green sleeves and her ginger hair was done up in netting decked with pearls. It was a peculiar sight, to see so well-dressed a woman riding her own horse through the market rather than riding in a carriage, even if she did ride side-saddle.

The ginger-haired lady glanced at the dark-haired stranger out the side of her almond-shaped blue eye. Although her face was as stoic as a marble statue’s, there was something about her gaze that caught his attention. It was discerning, and yet...not cold. Not condescending.

The lady then turned to Mr. Filch.

“Good sir,” she said, “why do you harangue my escort?”

The dark-haired stranger blinked, but otherwise kept the surprise from his face. Mr. Filch himself blinked several times in rapid succession.

“Y-your escort?” he sputtered. “Then...you’re who he was shopping for?”

“That I am,” said the lady very coolly. “Is there a problem with my purchases?”

“W-well, yes, in fact!” Mr. Filch stammered, his suspicion returning even though he was clearly intimidated. “What could a fine lady such as yourself want with this sort of...pagan nonsense?”

The lady raised her eyebrows dryly. “‘Pagan nonsense?’”

“Yes!” said Mr. Filch, his voice becoming a bit louder in his defensiveness. “Rosemary, henbane -- ”

“I require rosemary for the kitchen staff, to season our meals,” said the lady at once. “And henbane makes for pleasant incense -- we use it to stifle the smell of cigar smoke, after large parties.”

Filch looked a bit abashed.

“...And what about the absinthe? That stuff’s pretty strong...and the catswort...”

“My uncle brews drinks with absinthe, as a palette cleanser after large meals....and surely you yourself know of how much house cats enjoy catswort? I believe I see cat fur on your coat.”

“Well, yes, but...but what about the Mandrakes?” challenged Filch. “That is pretty occult, if I’ve ever -- ”

“The Mandragora plant has some of the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen,” the lady said, and her blue eyes grew a little narrower. “Now have I satisfactorily nullified your concerns? I’m afraid I have an urgent appointment at the palace, and I know my grandfather Lord Cromwell would be very displeased if I was late for it because someone suspected his family of aligning themselves with witchcraft.”

Mr. Filch suddenly went very, very white. “L-Lord Cromwell!? Y-you’re related to -- ?!”

He abruptly prostrated himself before her. “My lady!”

The display actually seemed to make the young Lady Cromwell look incredibly uncomfortable -- as if she hadn’t intended for the threat to make the vendor react with quite so much anxiety.

“Rise, please,” she said, and her voice seemed oddly remorseful. “That’s not necessary. Just be on your way and leave this man be, please.”

“Yes, my lady!” said Mr. Filch very quickly, looking no less anxious. “O-of course, my lady...”

With that, he slunk away, back down the street toward his stall.

Lady Cromwell looked down at the dark-haired stranger again. His sparkling black eyes had not left her face for almost the entire exchange and were very difficult to read.

“Have you bought everything you need?” she asked under her breath.

The stranger inclined his head in a single nod. “Yes.”

Lady Cromwell nodded in return, a very small smile touching the corners of her red lips. “Good. Walk beside my horse for a block or so. I’ll escort you out of the market, so you can head home.”

She flicked the reins and started her horse off at a leisurely trot. The dark-haired man hesitated briefly, before adjusting the basket under his arm so that the handle hung on his shoulder and following her.

“That was some very clever thinking on your part,” he said quietly.

Lady Cromwell raised her eyebrows.

“You seem surprised,” she said dryly. “Have you never encountered a clever woman before?”

“On the contrary,” the man replied, “I’m fortunate to count several as my friends. But I must confess, I did not expect such kindness from someone in your position.”

“And pray, what ‘position’ is that?”

The man inclined his head respectfully. “A lady of the Cromwell estate, of course. After all, as you yourself said...your grandfather most assuredly would be offended if someone associated him and his family with witchcraft.”

Lady Cromwell shot a quick glance at him out the side of her eye. Then she faced forward again.

“...I suppose I...have never been that much like the rest of my family,” she said softly. “Excluding my brother.”

“The young Lord Tristan Cromwell?” asked the man.

“No -- Jacob Cromwell,” she replied. “He’s at the war front.”

The man’s dark eyes flickered with a strange, sad glint.

“I see...”

The lady brought her horse to a stop and faced the man more fully.

“Well then, this is where I leave you. I’m sorry if it requires more of a walk for you to return home, but I must be off to the castle -- I’m already running behind.”

“It’s no problem at all,” said the dark-haired stranger. “It truly is not so far of a walk for me.”

Lady Cromwell nodded politely. “Very well. Farewell, then, Mr...?”

“With respect, my lady,” said the man with a slight wry smile, “perhaps it’s best that we not share our identities.”

The red-haired lady cocked her eyebrows sardonically. “Seems rather rude of you, considering you already know mine.”

“Ah, but I don’t, truly,” said the stranger, and his black eyes sparked with something almost mischievous. “I know your family name, yes, but that’s not who you are, is it? And truthfully even who you are now isn’t really that important. I’d say who you wish to be is far more telling than who you are at the present moment.”

Lady Cromwell raised an eyebrow, intrigued a bit despite herself. “Really? And who do you wish to be, sir?”

His black eyes twinkled a bit more, making them resemble two miniature night skies with hundreds of tiny pinprick stars.

“...A free man.”

Lady Cromwell’s eyes actually softened a bit, almost sympathetically.

“...Well, I hope you achieve that dream, Mr. Freeman,” she said in an unusually kind voice.

She flicked the reins of her horse.

“Farewell!” she called behind her.

Despite himself, the dark-haired stranger felt his face breaking into a broad smile as he watched her gallop away.

“Farewell,” he murmured, “Lady Cromwell.”

Not long after she was out of sight, a familiar black carriage appeared around a corner, and the door cracked open so that one could enter it. With an airy sigh, the dark-haired man climbed into the carriage and shut the door behind him, before the carriage rode off.

Not long after, the woman who’d been called “Lady Cromwell” arrived at the Royaumanian palace. She received a lot of attention from the castle staff for her mother’s old dress and formal hair and make-up -- and when she approached the thrones of the King and Queen, she startled everyone with her greeting.

“Your Majesties,” she said lowly, her blue eyes downcast to the floor to obscure the faint nerves she felt, “my name is Carewyn. Lord Cromwell sent me, so that I may serve his Highness, the Prince.”

The King looked very startled. “Lord Cromwell? Then...”

His face suddenly burst into an incredulous smile.

“...Why then, you’re the new maidservant! Lord Cromwell’s serving girl! My, but you have cleaned up -- I never would have guessed!”

“Clearly Lord Cromwell treats his servants well, if even they look the part of a courtier,” said the Queen, and she couldn’t help but giggle behind her hand.

Carewyn successfully resisted the urge to scoff. Charles most certainly had not told her to come dressed in her mother’s old dress or doll herself up quite this much -- he wanted Carewyn to be eyes and ears for their family, not to draw attention away from her cousins vying for the Prince’s hand. But Carewyn had her own reasons for wanting to make a good first impression.

“Come nearer to me, child,” said the Queen.

Carewyn obeyed politely. She still had some trouble meeting the King and Queen’s eyes, but she kept her composure as best she could.

“Turn for me.”

Faintly confused, Carewyn nonetheless did so. The Queen looked very pleased.

“Oh, she’s just like a little china doll!” she said through a simpering smile. “Prince Henri is going to have such fun with her, wouldn’t you say, dear?”

“Yes, yes, indeed,” said the King with a chortle. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Carewyn, but my son has quite a knack for -- ”

“Father!”

Carewyn couldn’t stop herself from turning around in surprise as the man who had to be Prince Henri strode up the hall.

He certainly was dressed the part, that was for certain. He wore a doublet made of gold-trimmed purple velvet complete with a brocaded cape and a matching hat and breeches with white stockings and gold-buckled black shoes.

“Henri, how good of you to join us,” said the Queen brightly. “Carewyn -- this is Henri Lancelot-Yves Andre -- Crown Prince of Royaume.”

Carewyn curtsied politely. “It’s an honor, your Highness.”

The dark-skinned prince Henri gave a bright white grin. “Ah, then you’re the new maidservant! I think I can see why you were sent over -- your fashion is on point, despite your dress being of an older style...”

He offered a hand politely to her.

“Come -- we must get you fitted appropriately!”

With faint hesitance, Carewyn rested her hand on top of the prince’s and followed him out.

“Fitted, Your Highness?” she asked. “I thought I merely would receive a uniform, once I arrived.”

“Oh, you will,” said the Prince brightly, “but no member of the castle staff is going to wear a uniform that doesn’t fit her properly -- I’ll need to tailor it. And please...call me Andre.”

Meanwhile, the dark-haired stranger called “Freeman” was getting an earful from the man in the carriage.

“Orion, you can’t keep running off every time you’re able to sidestep your attendants,” said the blond-haired man in the carriage. His arms were crossed, and although his expression was grave, it wasn’t particularly strict or reproachful. “There’s a lot of military strategy to discuss.”

“I learn a lot more about our enemy here on the streets than I ever could in a tower, McNully,” said Orion serenely. Once he’d finished organizing his basket of herbs, he lay it down on the seat across from him. “Don’t let me forget to deliver that to Miss Haywood, for the wounded.”

“You could stand to learn about your enemy in both places,” said McNully, “and you could also stand to think a bit more critically before disguising yourself and wandering across the border. Do you know what the Royaumanians would do, if they caught you?”

Orion considered this. “Hmm...perhaps that would make a good strategy. Cleopatra herself apparently smuggled herself inside a rug, so as to parley with Julius Caesar -- ”

“Yes, but Cleopatra’s older half-brother hadn’t been killed on Caesar’s orders beforehand,” McNully cut him off a bit more forcefully.

He sighed heavily.

“Orion...I understand you never asked for any of this. I mean, of all the people I could’ve seen becoming heir to the throne of Florence, I’d have said you only had a 3% chance of being picked.”

“Much obliged,” said Orion with a rather placid smile.

His face then grew a bit more serious.

“Even so,” he said quietly, “it’s my responsibility. And so is ending this war, preferably in such a way that balance is restored.”

“Kind of hard to do, when Royaume seem more interested in killing off royal family members than negotiating,” said McNully. “At this rate, I’d say the odds are slim they’ll accept peace over all-out surrender -- 10%, tops.

Orion shook his head. “Its leaders, maybe, but not its people. There is goodness among them. Patience, tenacity, loyalty, and fire. A desire for peace and stability, in place of war and loss.”

“And an irrational hatred of us, bred out of a fear of everyone and anyone even slightly associated with magic,” McNully pointed out.

“Not all of them feel that way.”

“A good 98% do.”

Orion glanced out the window at the large wall that marked the border of Royaume and Florence. Positioned in the distance were a battalion of Royaumanian soldiers shooting their guns and yelling -- no doubt they were being distracted just long enough for their carriage to slip through unnoticed.

“However slim the number,” said Orion quietly, “there are those here who don’t fear the unknown and mysterious -- whose kindness gives them courage...”

The face of the ginger-haired lady he’d met in the market rippled over the Florentine Prince’s mind again, and his lips curled up in a small smile.

“That’s something we can count as a blessing and use to our advantage.” 

[idjitlili]

Hello there.

Kili x reader x obi-wan(slightly)

(Not my image)

Summary: Annoying the company with your 'sword'  pretending it's not a metal sword, being unladylike. When in fact it wasn't a sword...it was a lightsaber.

Word count:6036

Warnings: Obi-wan , language, food stealing, dwarf nudity, put some clothes on!

Y/h/c= Your home country.

It was no secret, that you weren't from middle earth, with your strange speech, strange references, oh and the simple fact that you had fallen from the sky knocking Kili right out. Not just Kili but yourself before. You would've been quite embarrassing; if you were awake. Lucky you.

When you eventually you did awake, you were surrounded by below average height men , and man with a grey hair and wizards hat. One of the smaller men? Or dwarf you weren't sure if this was even real, it was strange to see such shorter men. His hair dark, shoulder length, not styled well compared to all the others, as for his beard..it was just stubble. The other men had long braided beards.

Yet there sat this man, very different to the others , barely with it, like he had hit his head, there you felt it , your head felt like your brain was going to pop out. You noticed , a smaller fellow jumping behind the small man to see, his curly blond her upon his head, was all to be seen.

The man that looked right out of a wrestling ring, glared at you , judging you, as did the one with ocean eyes and majestic hair. You hands behind you in the dry dirt, your heart beating heavily, shaking almost. "Uhm, w-what is h-" you didn't even get a sentence out before you were interrupted by the beardless short man.

"Well you fell out of the sky and fell on me, knocking me straight out." The man was not quite happy, "uhm, I guess I'm sorry? I didn't plan from falling from the sky, I'll try next time to see where I'm falling, but oh right, I never consented to be thrown from the sky, last time I was conscious I was- actually I do not remember." Blabbering on, even though really you should be terrified.

In the end , Gandalf and Thorin questioned you, as if they were Holt and Terry, Gandalf being Terry.

"Where do you come from, human?" The mans face frowning, the same as he had as you awoke, he spoke with sternly, as if you were a threat. Extremely intimidating. Now the others had left ,as you now sat in front of the two men.

"Uh, y/h/c." Their clothing didn't sit right with you, nor did you ever see anyone with such extreme hair styles. Maybe it was a cult?  The old man , and the slightly younger man looked at each other , then back to you , clearly confused, well the younger one anyways.

"Tell me dear, have you ever heard of Erebor?"

Thus, for whatever reason you were apart of this dwarven company, as it were.  No one was sure what in gods earth caused you to be here, well there's no 'God' in middle earth, not called God anyways.

Honestly, you didn't know what to do with yourself: no blankets, no spare clothes, no nothing except you , your thin graphic t-shirt, jeans and shoes.  Thorin was definitely no help, oh yes and no money. Who would accept plastic notes as currency here? Nor were coins from where you lived were made from gold.

Oh wait you did actually have something other than you and your clothes , you had tiny little sword, which was in fact just an letter opener, you must've been opening the post before you fell out of the sky.

Not only was it awkward between you and all the dwarves, you did not fit in. Oh yes, Gandalf explained to you that elves and wizards existed, basically explained everything. Thorin had decided this was the place they would rest for the night, so you didn't have to do any travelling... except from falling out of the sky.

You could only think, it must suck to shit squatting, oh yes you'd have to face shitting the forest soon enough... without toilet paper too. It is not even like you can be certain that no one is going to walk into the forest and find you shitting or even worse no pads bleeding out.

You were definitely not looking forward to that,  since there was no confirmation that you'd be getting home anytime soon.

So, now as the day grew dark, you sat against a large rough pine tree, the cold from the ground rising up your body. Knees pulled right up to your chest, your arms tight around, as goose bumps covered you like paint covers a wall. Hair dropping down your face as you leaned forward head on top of your knees.Staring at your feet, and the ground.

You thought on what your family must think, maybe it was like the labyrinth and they had forgotten that you had even existed. Bloody hell, Jareth, you didn't even wish for this to happen.

Not breaking out of thought when three pairs of boots, and a pair of overly large hair feet, were stood in front of you.  "Lass?"  Even then, you didn't realise, only noticing their presence when a hand was placed onto your shoulder.

Only then did you realise, looking up to see the the beardless man that you knocked out, somehow, another man with a hat , the other below average height man that looked like lion cross Seth rogen , and the jumping small fellow. "O-oh hi?"   Strange that's the only way you could put it, the two brunettes grinning largely down at you.

"Excuse their bad manners, my lady. That is Kili, my brother , Bofur, and this little fellow is Bilbo Baggins... Oh right, and I am Fili at your service." Each of them doing a little bow, Bilbo's face redden a little , being called little. What did he expect, 'Oh yes, this giant fellow with the fat ass is Bilbo.'  Them staring at you waiting for you to introduce yourself.

"Uh, I'm y/n."  Standing up , daring to do a small curtsey, with a small blush, surprised really that anyone had even approached you.

"Beautiful name, perfect, I guess I'm falling for you already, miss y/n , you know since you knocked me out."

You almost blushed at the m-Kili's words, now blushing in embarrassment. "I didn't me-" "he's only messin' with yer, lass, don't yer worry," The hatted dwarf know as Bofur had smiled at you, only to get a jab in the side by kili, only for him to return it twice as hard.

"I'm sorry, miss y/n? I'm just wondering about your clothing-" Bilbo had began to questions your clothing choice, only to be interrupted, bad manners? Definitely. "Yes, those pants are very lovely, can you do a spin-" "OI," A big muscly man, the one that had glared at you earlier had smacked the beardless dwarf on the back of his head, letting out a Yelp of pain.

"What I was going to say, before I was rudely interrupted was, are you not cold? You are barely dressed!" You had choked out a snort, at the hobbit , who had glared at Kili, he really did not like dwarves interrupting, well anyone, he's not racist.

"I'm not dressed? You've got no socks on! My mum would have scolded me, even if I just got out of the bath. 'Y/n, where's your socks! You are going to get ill! Y/n, I don't care if you have just sat down, go get your bloody socks on.' "  Starring back at you feet, now stretched across the mud, it was incredibly awkward, well until they had started laughing.

"That's just like our Amad, right, fee?" Kili had called to his brother, before sitting down on the mud near you. "Oh yes, remember when Amad told you not eat all that cake-" Looking over to Kili who's face flushed red, interrupting his brother.

"Don't you dare."  Bofur , Fili and Bilbo sat down,  you sat in a circle, Fili trying to hold back from laughing. "Well ye gotta tell us now,Fili." Bofurs hand supported his head eager for Fili to continue. Bilbo the same, he loved stories.  Kili's pleading eyes, were no match for his brother.

"Alright, so he ate all the cake, this stuff was heavily creamed, sweets covered it, it could feed 12 dwarves, that's saying a lot. Our Amad strictly told us, mostly Kili, not to eat it."

Fili's moustache braids jiggled as he talked, very distracting, letting out a small chuckle while talking a breath.  "Anyways, Amad woke up in the morning, she was not happy at all, she had yelled so loud, that me, Kili, and Thorin were awoken from upstairs. All three of us rushed down the stairs, to see the table with no cake, just the plate. Amad  stood there with her face redder than a smacked bosom, hands on her hips."

Kili face now in his hands, Fili grinning larger and larger by the second. " She had looked all three of us done, before calling Kili towards him, and it was dreadfully obviously his hair had cake crumps throughout it, he got scolded so bad."

"Is that it ," Bilbo was disappointed with the outcome, he had thought it would've been more suspenseful. "No master Baggins, Thorin later took us for training with Dwalin as well as many other viewers. Basically what happened was Dwalin threw him over his head and he landed on the floor, when he finally tried to stand up he let loose the loudest wet fart.  Then, he stood up and the back of his pants were covered, and out the ends of his trousers... he had to walk home like that."

Bursts of laughter had erupted through the circle, Kili just looked horrified with his brother, placing your hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up to you, with a sad smile.

"Don't feel bad, someone I knew yawned up to the sky and a bird shat in her mouth, to make matters worse she was afraid to tell anyone so she spat it out, and stood there with bird shit taste." 

Looking at you wide eye,  "T-they did what?"

"A bird shat in their mouth."

"Such crude language, yet suddenly I feel much better." Kili smiling up to you, the other three still laughing about Kili's shitty pants.

A friendship between you and the dwarf ,you knocked out, began. Over the months you had gotten more comfortable with the company.

Soon enough you were all captured by trolls, but you were sleeping so, you woke up and everyone was packing to leave. You were very confused indeed, Thorin had announced that you all were leaving for a troll cave.

Gandalf had merged after Thorin with two swords , calling you and Bilbo over. Wow, free stuff. 

What Gandalf had not expected was your behaviour later on at Rivendell... Bathing and changing at Rivendell, eating some rabbit food, it was soon time for second dinner and after that bed.

Roaming the grounds of Rivendell the next month, you had bumped into Bilbo. That's when it started, you had already been messing with your sword. When Bilbo had approached you, seeing your cheeky grin he didn't know whether to run.

"M-morning ,miss y/n?" Speaking uncertain of himself, partly nervous,  you had been pretty unpredictable, you know falling out the sky?

"Morning ,Bilbo!  How are you feeling?"  Swinging your sword in like it was baton or baseball bat, almost dropping flat on your face.

"I'm fine , thank you. Uh..." The sword now between your legs, swinging it around. "Bilbo look, it's my cock." Bilbos face now red, your crude language tended to fluster the poor hobbit, sorry the rich hobbit.

"Miss y/n, I do not think that's quite appropriate.."   You head snapping towards the hobbit, your face dropped, instantly Bilbos mouth is gapped. "Oh- I didn't mean any offence." Taking a step forward, Bilbo had stepped back , another and another.

Bilbo had ended up sprinting , you chasing him, well until an elf had offered you pastry's. Continuing your walk around the grounds, munching on your pastry, distracted by your breakfast you didn't notice the dwarf in front of you until the last second. 

"Where's your trousers?!"  You had made eye contact with something other than his eyes, it was painfully obvious. Meeting his actual eyes, the smirk on his face, concluded that he had seen you check him out, flushed pink cheeks.

"Fili took my clothes."

"Why would he want to see you running around naked,-cover up gosh!" Your voice getting higher by the second.

"Well, my lady with what?" You had thrown your pastry at the dwarf, now quite put off; even though his size was quite large. Instead covering himself he began to eat the remaining amount of the pastry.

You had scoffed, walking around the dwarf, away from his naked body.

What did catch you off guard again was a  man popping out from a pillar , his longish hair blond, his eyes ocean blue, his beard trimmed, his shirt beige , with a brown leather belt around his waist. You didn't know how to describe it, you jumped when he spoke.

"Hello there," 

How could be here? In a land of dwarves, elves and wizards? It was Obi-wan Kenobi, surely he should've been in the high ground? I mean, chopping some legs...so Anakin is leg a less, because his legs Aragorn.

"General Kenobi!" Kili had to turned around, to see you running at a strange man, who was General Kenobi, turning back round he had stomped off back to the company... to gossip.

"What are you doing here, Obi-wan?" His arms held behind his back as you two walked through Rivendell together, the truth was that you had never met before.

"I'm here because of you, y/n...the Council has sent me to help you. The universe is in great danger, again."

Then, you found out your real purpose was in middle earth; to save the line of Durin, With Obi-wan Kenobi as your master you as the pad awan. However, of course you did not have the force, he was just going to teach you how not to be damsel in distress.

You didn't know how this would bring you so close to the Jedi knight..

Obi-wan, had hid until half a day from Rivendell, when you had gestured him to come out, Kili had let out the most over dramatic gasp possible. "I told you he was real!"

That definitely caught the attention of the whole company, stopping, turning , drawing there weapons, Fili pulling you out the way.

"Why are you following us?" Thorins voice boomed over the winds, you couldn't imagine how your eardrums would certainly burst if he had a microphone. Getting of the grips of the dwarves again, standing between Obi-wan and the axes of the company.

Little Bilbo just watched the slope of the mountain with amusement. "What are you doing, y/n?!"

"You stubborn dwarves, if I was walking with him with no fuse, you'd think that he was with me, he's here to help me." Kili had scoffed, nor did any of other dwarves look convinced, Obi-wans hands on his hips, puffing his chest, revealing his lightsaber.

"I've had enough, I don't care what you say Thorin, he is my protection, he's not taking any of the reward, now let's go, he is not the enemy." Maybe you told a small lie, it would not go down well if Thorin knew Obi-wan was there to protect him and his nephews.

"At the front, both of you, now." And you were walking again, you and Obi-wan at the front.

Though, all together you were from three different universes, you from one which starwars was just a set of films, and series. It felt weird. Knowing he died, old, and he didn't look himself.

"Wait, so, Qui-Gon basically died of STDs, because he so many that it slowed him down? I thought it was a rule not have attachments; but he could sleep around?" I mean, if that's the case... you are very handsome, I'm not the best looking, nor have I ever.."

Your face felt hot, that was more than light flirting, really you had only known him for 27 hours, your crush on him though, that developed from watching him on screen.

Now concentrating on where you were going, surprised when Obi-wan had let out a laugh.

"My lady, you must be mistaken, you are absolutely beautiful." Your face flushed pink, wrapping your arm around Obi-wan's arm, his eyes watched you as you did, not hilding hands or anything just his arm. There are times in life when words are not needed.

Soon enough it was time to stop, when the company approached a large path on the mountain, so big that the company could sit in a circle if they desired. Along the way many of the dwarves had collected sticks and branches for a fire.

Right against the mountain wall you had set up your bed roll, and dropped your cloak from the elves on it as a blanket, you were sure to remember to share with Obi-wan later.  Obi one had copied you, dropping his cloak neck to yours, as you both stood next to each other, the sky now dark, the smell of dinner lingered in the air.

The glow of the fire lit up Obi-wan's face, his beard now more orange, his blue eyes focused on you.

"Hey, um, Obi-wan...can I hold your lightsaber?"  His hands on his beige tunic, eyeing you down, one of a second, before handing you the weapon.

The lightsaber, heavy in your hands, yet still you were swinging it like you were playing tennis on the wii. "Um, Obi, can I please..?"  Turning to face the Jedi with pleading eyes, he just shrugged his shoulders casually nodding.

With that you had pressed the button, there stood the blue blade in front of your very eyes. Bilbo had noticed almost immediately spitting out his food, who in their right mind would give her a weapon?

Noticing Bilbos sudden uncomfortableness, grinning at him, as the saber made its way between your legs. "Hey Bilbo,Check out how big my dick is!" Bilbo had put his bowl of food down, and his behind Thorin, brooding.

"Uhm, lass? What is that?" Bofur wearily, spoke, eyeing the saber not blinking,like many other dwarves. Balin flinching as you waved it between your legs.

"It's a lightsaber, the weapon of Jedi's. Hey, Kili, sorta looks like your dick ,if it was a hundred times smaller. " Not that you were looking at Kili, his face flushed as he chocked out his stew, Thorins eyes burning into the back of the head, he would speak to him later.

"Oi, when did you get a look at Kees , lad?" Fili wan most  amused at the situation, Kili knocking him in the ribs.

"Well , what happened was I got a pastry at Rivendell, and Kili almost whacks into me. Yeah, and he was naked, so, not that I like to give away food, I throw the pastry at him and Obi-wan appears and saves me. End of story."

Now swinging the lightsaber like it was a golf club, you wondered if Obi-wan had to charge his lightsaber.  Kili now standing up , walking over to you as the dwarves forget about the story, simply because it wasn't rare that they went around naked. 

"Oi, Kili , throw that stick at me, so I can hit it." 

Kili had planned on telling you a piece of his mind, how his dick was not small, but there you were not a care in the world, waiting for him to pick up the stick.

His eyes searched the stone floor when his eyes catch, a thick stick not a twig. Without a thought he threw it, your eyes waiting, standing like you were going to play baseball or rounders. Swinging your arm slicing through the stick, causing it to slam to the floor in two separate pieces.

"I'm sorry, but what in middle earth is a Jedi and why do they have that, what even is that!"

Obi-wan just stood by you chest puffed, huge smirk on his face, as Kili ranted slightly , fear embedded in his eyes as he stood back as you swung the weapon around more, it was not surprising that the company were also in slight shock.

"This man is a Jedi." Pointing at Obi-wan before turning fully towards him, ignoring the others questions. "Okay, now teach me, master..." A grin across your face, as Obi-wan took the saber from your hands, turning it off, before standing behind you.

Turning your back into place, your feet in the correct stance, his back against yours as ushered you take your sword from his hands.  His hot breath briefly against your neck. Once you had done, his back peeled from yours, and he had done the same.

Throughout the next months, Obi-wan had continued to teach you how to defend yourself

, Kili always disagreeing on Obi-wand methods, suggesting he would be better to teacher you.

That was until you were all captured at Mirkwood. Of course, Obi-wan tried to use the force on the elves, however , due to being immortal they weren't easily controlled.  Somehow he did it still, only allowing you and him to escape, due to being human. What you didn't understand though, why was Obi-wan such a flirt.

The blond elf, the one that looked straight off like a princess, had stared at you and Obi-wan with his eyebrows raised. His light foot steps, couldn't be heard as he glided towards you both, standing close to Obi-wan, as the dwarves were search. Legolas excluding you two from it, using the side of your body to hide the lightsaber at Obi-wan's belt.

"Why are two humans travelling with dwarves?"   Was this elf wearing tights? David Bowie could get away with it because that ass and overall god looks, but the colour scheme on this blond elf was not it. Wondering if his dick could even breathe, maybe it shrank.

Looking at Obi-wan, who was smouldering at the elf, his lips slightly pushed out his blue eyes sharp, his long hair flowing. But..there was no wind. His hand doing a weird gesture like waving.

"We are not, we are trying to get lake town, as I have finally decided to meet my darlings parents. You will let us go." You were surprised when Obi-wan had wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you close to him. Your eyes wide, you really didn't think you were going to get out of this, how many times had you all been captured? Too many times.

"Go, follow the path, goodbye." Obi-wan had quickly let go of your waist , talking your hand, pulling you away, false smiles on your faces as you left. Trying not raise suspicion, Kili had watched the whole thing, scoffing in disgust, watching you and Obi-wan walking away.

You wanted to help the dwarves you really did;but Obi-wan had assured you they didn't need your help. You both waiting in the safe forest outside of the woodland realm, waiting for the dwarves.

Not only had Obi-wan had taught you basic defensive skills, but you had became extremely close. Here you were, stuck in a forest, no bedrolls no nothing, due to Azog. Nights were cold, so cold, as Obi-wan's duty to protect you, you both decided for your survivals there was only one way.

The fire low, so that you would not be detected by Orcs, Obi-wan and you snuggling up together, his arms around your waist, knees tucked under yours. Body heat being the only thing from stopping you both freezing to death.

During this week, what disturbed you the most, was Obi-wan's french accent...Considering there was no earth in the star-wars universe. If that matter you weren't sure. He'd pop the accent out at random moments, going to bathe in a stream?

"Do you need a chaperone, mon amour?" No, he did not go in the water with you, he just stood guard, holding his arm out to walk you to the stream and even back. Though you did have to wait by the stream while he was bathing , with his lightsaber in your hand, just in case.

However,one day when you you were bathing Obi-wan had almost had a heart attack when you let a gasp, running out of the hair all across your face, running smack into him. Your bare body against his robes, soon as he made eye contact with you he knew it was nothing life threatening.

"When I said 'You don't have time to be timid, you must be bold and daring' this was not what I mean." Obi-wan's stuck to yours , reassuring your privacy, even though his back was against the mud , your whole body pressed against him. Again with the accent, Obi-wan's smile small, your hands against his chest, as laugh erupted from your mouth.

"What is, Ma Cherie?"

"Only reason I'm laying on you butt naked is because a fish brushed against my leg." Obi-wan's once sincere face replaced with a grin you snuffled your laughter against his neck. Your cold skin against his , as vibrations travelled through his body, a laugh from his lips travelling to your ears. A few minutes passed, with you just against Obi-wan as you laughed together.

"This would be very embarrassing ,if the company found us now."

"I'll close my eyes, and you can go get dressed,"

That was it with that, Obi wan would never disrespect your modesty, it is not like when Kili had shown off on purpose.

The next day, you had caught up with the company and an injured Kili. However, the french accent was not lost...

Kili's faced laced with sweat, as you and Obi-wan made your way to the compan, his eyes met yours. He felt relieved that you had came back, yet anger still bubbled down in inside.

"I thought ye had left us." Bofur popping up infront of you two, his eyebrow raise.

"No, figured from I heard about that king , it was not the best if he had got a hold of Y/n, it is my mission to protect y/n." Bofur , along with Gloin, Dori and few others nodded in agreement.

Your eyes drifting from Obi-wan's face, back to Kili, his thigh seeping with blood,you had grabbed Obi-wan by the hand pulling him over with you towards Kili. Obi-wan meeting your eyes once again, confused with your actions. "Obi.. help him."

Letting go of your hand, Obi-wan had brought his hand over the wound, Kili tried to protest, only to be shut down by Fili. Kili felt tugging on his skin, the pain slowly disappearing, a few seconds late Obi-wan had remove his hand, stood up, made his way back to you. "W-what? H-how did you?"

This is what you and Obi-wan were sent here to do, save the line of Durin. After that, not even seconds Bard had arrived, the company was on their way again, no delays, except being caught by the master, which kind of annoyed

Obi-wan, getting to be called that without being a Jedi , disgraceful.

After that, it was one more boat ride away, and climbing more mountains. Within three hours , you feet began to blister, the knocks harsh, you wondered how Bilbo could do it, he was a happy chappy. Obi-wan next to you, had immediately picked up on you change. His eyes caught onto yours like a magnet, within seconds you were on his shoulders, hanging. Just like Anakin had carried him unconscious, he could've carried you anyway way but he decided on potato sack really?

"B-Ben!" The little shriek had erupted from your mouth in surprise, in reality it sounded like he had just made you orgasm. Your face flushed, as Obi-wan grip tightened around your thigh. "Yes, Ma Cherie?" Again with Obi-wan doing the french accent, letting out a groan.

"Never mind." For the next three hours you are carried on Obi-wan's shoulders, you couldn't imagine how his back feels. There's no negotiating with the negotiator. Your stomach ached from just being on his back. You did get to sleep for a while, which was great.

“Obi, I can walk now." Your face next the side of his face, softly speaking to him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." With that you were back on the ground, walking with the rest of the company, though you didn't speak to many of the other dwarves much, you found yourself away from Obi-wan and in the company of Fili, who had left the company of his brother. Your conversation had started out normal, Fili telling you about the Elves, and Bilbo saving them.

"Are you courting the man?" Eyes widening at the dwarves words, it was no doubt that you had liked him watching him on screen, but no way he had made advances, had he? He could not, it's not the Jedi way. Why did he flirt with you all the time.  As you two grew close, you felt you chest tightening, you could feel that way. Just months ago you had felt the same for Kili, but then Obi-wan had appeared.

"No, why do you ask?"  Your face felt hot, unbearably hot, embarrassed that you had been clearly flirting back to Obi-wan.

"It's just that my brother... don't know if you have noticed he has been not himself, and well I think it's because of you and Obi-wan."  Fili whispered to you, you could barely hear him, but when you did make out what he was saying, why would Kili not himself because you and Obi-wan, had you offended him some how?

"What do you mean? Why would it be our fault?" It was not appropriate but a chuckle still left his lips, Fili could not understand how you could be so blind.

"You and Obi-wan flirt publicly a lot..." Then it hit you, the reason Kili could barely look at you anymore, you had not really ever have someone like you let alone possibly two.  Blush upon your cheeks, "Oh.."

"Now, you must understand, y/n , if you don't feel for him, you must put him down, do you love Obi-wan?"  Turning you face back to look at Obi-wan, who had been watching his steps, as he talked to Bilbo, who seemed to be deep into conversation. When Obi-wan's blue eyes had finally caught yours, his lips had turned up in a smile, before you turned back to the blond haired dwarf.

Fili's moustache braids jigging, as you all walked, waiting for your response.

"Jedi's aren't allowed attachments; it would never work out."

“Do you love him?” Repeating the same question, how could you know if you loved him, why would it matter it would never work out, Fili clearly didn’t want his brother heartbroken because you couldn’t decide.

“I d-don’t know, Fee,”

“Do you love Kili?”

“Really, Fili, I don’t know.”

Fili, had suggested to speak to Kili later, what if you only loved Obi-wan platonically?

Once Thorin had stopped the company for the night, and when the sky was dark. Only the glow of the fire upon your faces, Fili had left his brother on a log, making eye contact with you, gesturing for you to swap with him. Sitting upon the rough log, thighs touching, Kili had turned slightly jumping when realising it was you, his brown eyes now looking to yours with the flame of the fire reflected into them. His face with no expression at all, he didn’t even say anything to you. A string of pain, flowed through your heart, you hadn’t realised how you hadn’t spoken to Kili in months, properly anyways.

You had wrapped your arms around Kili neck, your cold flesh against Kili’s neck, as you pulled him into a tight hug, slowly he had accepted it. Wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, his dark hair, tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry, Kili.” Pulling away, Kili brows scrunched together, his dark eyes searching your face, he thought he had done something wrong, and was going you space, also think mostly that you and Obi-wan were courting. However, Fili had informed him that you were not courting, he wished he could scold his older brother, for being nosy.

“W-why?” He had been jealous of your behaviour towards Obi-wan no doubt about that, but you shouldn’t have to apologise for his feelings, you could like anyone you wanted, you are beautiful, bodaciously so.

“Because I haven’t spoken to you for months, it’s not because I don’t like you, it’s just...you promise not to repeat this to anyone, especially your uncle?” Kili knew it, you didn’t like him, but his uncle? Yuck, he couldn’t be mean to you though, you were nothing but nice to him. Instead he just nodded, with a small smile.

“Thank you..the real reason why Obi-wan and I were sent here, well is to keep the line of Durin alive, must have a big effect on all the universes otherwise, two people from separate universes would not have been sent. So, we’ve been keeping this secret, it’s been hard, that’s why I spend so much time with Obi-wan.”

Kili’s eyes never left yours, as you spoke, taking a deep breath before you continued on, you were scared for the safety of your friends, Thorin didn’t care what you were doing , because you and Obi-wan were quiet and kept to yourselves, he saw how effective in battle Obi-wan was and didn’t complain. He needed the man power, there was no doubt about that.

“If I am totally honest, I do love Ben, and if he was allowed to be with me, I wouldn’t be with him, it’s not the way of the Jedi. He is my best friend, that is a gentleman, I’m sorry, but his back must’ve killed carrying me like a sack of potatoes. Plus, when we were waiting for you... I was having a bath, he was on guard and fish brush against me, I went running, fell flat on him, that was definitely not a pretty sight for hi-“

“You what?” Kili was scared to know what you were getting and frankly disturbed that Obi-wan had seen you vulnerable. You had reached and gripped his, large dwarven hand, tightly, rough, yet so warm...

“ Doesn’t matter, he was very respectful. Anyways, what I was getting at Kili, is that.. I c-can’t live within you...I love you, not platonically either, I understand if you don’t feel the same for me. I wouldn’t if I was you.” Before you could blink , his soft lips upon your, your hands in you his hair pulling him close, his hands back around his waist.

You finally felt certain of something.

Bonus:

Kili was not the slightest happy when you accidentally cut a lock of his hair off with the saber.

“Hey, Ben, can I cut your hair too?”

“Fuck off, I’m the only Jedi left with good hair, you touch it you’ll become a baked potato.”

“Okay I’m sorry!”

“mon Cherie , I could never harm you, for I love you like a dog.”

“Oi, stop flirting.” Kili had interrupted, petting his burnt detached hair.

“He just called me a dog, that’s not flirting,”

[gaillol-13]

ITTHIGSS AU

Cartoon encounter

The Thrilling Adventures Of Captoon Underpants. By George Beard and Harold Hutchins

Despite it's old appearance, it was made in 2021 by cartoonists George Beard(20 and 0/5 yrs) and Harold Hutchins(21).

They said that they made the cartoon in memory of their boss, Benjamin Krupp, who was tragically killed in a car accident(?). And despite his grumpy, strict, and sarcastic nature, they did miss him (in the interview they joked that black and white cartoons were played at his high school, despite that he was in his 40s, and technology didn't work like that back in the day). And it was also based off the comic books they made when they were young.

The Cartoon itself was about George and harold (as kids) and a chubby half-naked goofy superhero called Captoon Underpants. The trio go on wacky action packed adventures, stop alot of evil baddies, or just have a bunch of fun. It has a decent amount of potty humour, well-balanced in the adult jokes department, and was a hit for kids (and even some adults) everywhere.

The only unhappy customer was Theodore Murdsly, a rich businessman with a huge company (called Ted corp), and a ego to match. The main reason he found the cartoon unacceptable was that he was a major antagonist and Captoon's rival. And it potrayed him as a selfish, cocky, greedy, perverted (yes, I went there), and lying pig (what pissed him off even more was that George and harold dont regret it one bit, even enjoyed that he was annoyed). When he stated this problem, Harold simply said "Look if you dont like that we made your character so accurate, you don't have to watch it at all."

The viewers laughed their heads off, and no one seemed to cared about Theodore's complaint.

On December 4th, seven criminals who worked for Ted kidnapped George and Harold and took them to the abandoned Jerome Horwitz school (which was also where the two cartoonists got their education) to "end the production".

When people asked how George and harold got out alive, they didn't answer and looked at each other with worry. So the police (along with class S scientist Melvin sneedly, who also went to school there) went to the school to investigate, all the evidence they found was a room with 5 dead bodies (no doubt the criminals) and a small TV.

From what Melvin described, 1 body had their neck twisted off and skinned to the bone, 2 had been hung from handmade nooses (that were, strangely, just a bunch of briefs tied together), another one had the top half of their torso missing (with teeth marks,human teeth marks), and 1 looked like it was crushed by a heavy object. There was no trace of the other 2 criminals. Here's what he said in the interview.

"Do you think George and harold are responsible for these murders?"

"Of course not! Sure, those rusty water pipes are very clever, but they wouldn't kill a human, not even if its self defense!"

"You said one was crushed, can you define exactly how?"

"Actually, it seems that the killer crushed him using...some sort of weapon. *pulls out a small broken piece of the weapon out of his pocket and shows it to the camera* I got a sample of it right here"

"The weapon was made from...grey wood?"

"That's the thing! It has the texture of wood, right?! But-but it feels... *drags finger on sample* wet, like ink, just a little. But it's also static-like!"

"Static-like?"

"Y-yeah, and its definitely solid, but it feels like you can bend it too, sorta like rubber!"

"So...its moist rubber wood that feels like...static?"

"I know I know, it sounds crazy. But thats just how it feels, we ran some tests on it, all the computers (after some errors) could say was that it was "hammer wood". So we can confirm this person used a hammer."

"But you said it was rubbery, so how could this person smash them with it?"

"They must have swung it hard, and judging from this picture... *pulls out a picture of the completly smashed corpse* ...it must have been a pretty big hammer. *chuckles a bit*"

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. Just imagining this guy smashing someone with a hammer probably bigger than his body, while its obviously barbaric and gruesome...it kinda reminds me of the captoon cartoons George and harold make..."

"It does?"

"*Nods* mm hm. *pulls out the picture of 2 criminals hanging* And they also made a noose out of underwear! There was actually a Captoon episode where Captoon kinda did that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, *crosses his legs and smiling* Theodore said to some people something about him winning a contest and gloated that he was gonna win Edith (like that's ever gonna happen), and-"

"Do you know who Edith is in the cartoon?"

"Of course! She's Captoon's love interest, her first appearance was in "Captoon's train troubles", and just like George, Harold, Theodore, and me (yeah, I'm in there too), she's an actual person in real life. And she didn't seem to mind the role those two gave her *leans foward* if you know what I mean. *winks and leans back to his original spot*"

"*chuckles*"

"So anyway. Theodore says that, but what he didn't know was that Captoon heard and saw the whole thing through the window, and boy, did he look pissed! So Captoon tapped the window to get Theodore's attention, then pulls out a bunch of underwear from his utility waistband (one of his powers in unlimited underwear), then ties them into a noose, points at him, then at the noose, and then does the "slit-throut" gesture, all while making direct eye contact with Theodore!"

"Woah...that's kinda dark for a family-friendly cartoon."

"I know!! Captoon didn't even say a word in that moment, but that was CLEARLY a death-threat!!! He had full intentions to KILL that smug rich douchebag!!! I mean, they ARE aware kids are watching these, right?!?! Anyway, my point is whoever killed these criminals are obviously a fan of the cartoon, that would definitely explain why he let George and Harold live. *takes a sip of tea*"

"Heh, your one to talk."

"*spits out tea* NONONONOITSNOTLIKEILIKEITORANYTHING I-*ahem* Its just those two keep bugging me to watch it with them, they really love how their work turns out in the end, and I respect that, a-and I seem to remember what happens in the episodes, heh. *nervous laughter* I think we're getting a bit off track. Back to the murders."

"Right, there were seven criminals who took George and harold, but you found five. What happened to the other two?"

"Oh that's...a great question, we couldn't find them, but... *freezes for a moment* remember that there was also a small TV in the same room as the bodies were?"

"Yes."

"W-well, when I was alone in there, it was on one side of the room, and there was a door to the storage room on the other, it was a big room. I noticed there was blood, coming...o-out of...the TV screen...

"W-was there anything showing on the TV?"

"*shakes head* The TV showed nothing but static on it, but bloods was oozing out of the corners...and...when I got closer...I could hear someone...humming..."

"What?"

"*shivers* The-they were humming the Captoon theme song...I could hear it...and...hands..."

"Wha?"

"I could feel...hands...reaching out toward me...from behind...I could hear the storage room door opening...the breathing...footsteps that repeatedly stopped to tap to the rhythm of the song he was humming...that was the moment I realized the man who killed the criminals was right behind me..."

"Jeez."

"His breathing seemed like it was coming from a radio, scratchy...static-like...but that wasn't the unsettling part..."

"What was?"

"I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I KNEW one person who breathed like that, it was too familiar...but...It just...couldn't be...he's been deseased for over a year now..."

"Who?"

"... *shakes head* never mind, I think it's time for us to end the interview anyway."

To be continued.......

[fangirlofbooksandpasta]

The Last Kiss - Part 1

Pairing: Loki x reader 

Warning: indirect sex, mild swearing, very very VERY vague thor x reader (as in they had a one night stand w/o any details and that’s all), kind of insecure reader

Summary: When their friend Thor invites them to visit Asgard, Y/N says yes. But there they meet Thor’s brother; the notorious Loki. And little by little their relationship evolves. 

A/N: I such at writing and uploading regularly so sorry if you get into this and I don’t update for some time. I got help from @beksib​ with writing this. English is neither of our first languages, so sorry for any mistakes!! THERE WILL BE MORE PARTS IF I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER 

Y/N knew that Thor had a brother. Loki. And they remembered from their 5th grade obsession with norse mythology, that Loki was the God of Mischief, which made them a little afraid of meeting him, although Thor reassured them; he’s harmless. So when Thor invited Y/N to visit Asgaard, they said yes. 

When Y/N’s friends asked about their vacation plans, they couldn’t really tell them the details. Y/N could barely give them a general idea of where they were headed, as none of the friends had the inside knowledge. Truth was, Y/N wasn’t supposed to know either. Thor had gotten incredibly drunk one night at a bar, and told Y/N everything once they asked him where he was from. Of course, they believed none of it. He was just a drunk fool. But when they woke up the next morning, with a sleeping Thor lying by their side, they remembered sparks - on his… skin? Y/N also had a vague memory of his eyes lighting up during the act, but convinced themselves that it must’ve been light from outside their apartment that shone in. They mentioned the sparks and light as a joke when Thor had awakened, but the way Thor’s face expression changed with the speed of light, made them realise that something was odd about him. He tried to laugh it off , but his nonchalant attitude had vanished. For a long time after that, Thor avoided them. Which was rather difficult seeing that they worked with Bruce Banner as a part of their Ph.D. in molecular biology. What happened and was talked about at the tower, was top secret. This meant that Y/N had no access beyond the labs in which they occasionally worked with Bruce Banner. It was common knowledge that there was some sort of secret group at that tower, but Y/N never cared much for politics, which this seemed to be a part of. That was until they noticed Thor in the hallway with a funky sort of outfit, as if he was cosplaying a viking superhero. 

So one day Thor was forced to explain everything, which, technically, was illegal, but it was Thor. What was gonna happen to him, prison? 

Y/N just promised to keep it a secret and everything was fine. So fine that Thor invited them on vacation to Asgard. 

---

“This is a… guest room?” Y/N asked when the doors opened before them, revealing something that looked royal. Apparently it was just one of the guest rooms. 

Their eyes were met with a wide bed of sheets that looked strangely soft. Everything was golden and expensive-looking, but not in a way that was too much - on the contrary. On one of the nightstands was a bouquet of flowers. Some of the flowers they recognised, some they didn’t, guessing that they were native to Asgard. 

“Mother insisted I get flowers for my guests, so here you are, friend!” Thor said as excited as a golden retriever with his arms raised above his head. The sight made Y/N laugh at him

Soon they got dressed in Asgardian clothing, which they found surprisingly comfortable, considering how it looked. The main colour of the clothing being orange, it matched the golden plate covering their chest. It bore symbols that Y/N didn’t quite understand, although they did find them absolutely intriguing and beautiful. They felt like a royal warrior and for 15 minutes or so couldn’t stop looking at themselves in the mirror, turning around themselves and admiring the image before them, until Thor interrupted them. 

He had to fulfill the royal duties that followed a prince, one of them being practising combat (which mostly consisted of him beating his friends up, according to Thor himself). This meant that Y/N was on their own for some hours, which resulted in seemingly endless wandering of the big and majestic halls of the palace - something they didn’t mind, boring as it sounds. Some of the hallways had big painted walls, portraying what Y/N guessed were great and iconic battles. She recognised Odin in some, Thor in others. Some of the paintings portrayed stories she had heard of before, like the creation of the world. Other halls were like long balconies where the city of Asgard was portrayed like a grandiose landscape painting, making Y/N stop in their steps and simply admire the beauty of it all. They could see movement below them. People in this world, that knew little of other worlds, going about their day as any other. None of them knew of Y/N’s existence, none of them cared that this guest from another realm was observing them from the castle. 

But being lost amid the beauty of the golden city also meant that Y/N didn’t notice a certain prince standing at the other end of the open hallway. Loki, in his green attire, stood like a shadow in the bright sun and admired the guest. He couldn’t help but take in the beauty of how the flowy fabric embraced their figure in the gentle wind. The feeling was like a punch in the stomach - uncomfortable and unknown. He found himself fleeing the scene as if he had done something dreadful, which wasn’t something he usually would feel bad about. But this time he felt guilty. 

---

Y/N was met with an unbelievable sight. The throne room was decorated even more than it was usually. It was as if everything was covered with layers of gold. The guests - even servants - wore stunning clothing, the food looked delicious and endless on the long table, and according to Thor the ale practically refilled itself. At a loss for words, Y/N entered the throne room, feeling little and undeserving to be there. They had heard multiple Asgardians talk poorly about humans, which made them feel smaller than they felt before they heard these conversations. 

“Are you alright?” a soft voice from beside them asked. They turned around and saw probably one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. Stunned by her appearance, it took a moment to produce an answer. 

“Y-yea, just overwhelmed I guess…” Y/N answered quietly, still admiring the throne room in all its glory when they felt a big hand pat them on their shoulder. 

“Welcome to a real party!” Thor laughed as he too looked upon the scene before him. Behind him came the warriors three, Volstagg and Fandral laughing about something, Volstagg with ale in his hand, and Hogun nodding along beside them. 

“Well who do we have here?!” Volstagg exclaimed in absolute excitement at the sight of an unknown guest. Y/N turned around, nervous at the thought of having to introduce themselves to people with a reputation such as theirs. 

“Y/N, my friend from Midgaard!” Thor answered excitedly, making Y/N feel like the guest of honour - a feeling they’d rather not attain at all during their stay. Nonetheless, Thor was extravagant like that. Siff gave Y/N a compassionate look that essentially said I feel you. 

“I must say that you look precious in your attire,” Fandral said in a sleek voice, a compliment Y/N appreciated but also felt weird by hearing. The clothing was beautiful, no doubt about it, but it was so different from what they used to wear back home. Being in a lab most of the time meant that clothing played a lesser role, as it was usually covered by a lab coat. Not only that, but in the rare occasion that they did dress up, it was nothing like what they were wearing at this ball. The insecurities and doubts hit them as soon as they stepped outside their room. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s like that with everyone,” Siff said while pushing Fandral away, which made Y/N feel more at ease. Once again they looked across the grand hall while sipping at the ale they had acquired from a servant during the conversation. It tasted sweeter and fruitier than any other ale that they had come across. It tasted magical. Suddenly an unusual character caught their eye. A man dressed in black and green. He was standing on the balconies, all alone. His cloak was moving with the wind. For a moment he was all Y/N could see. That was, until he turned around and walked back inside. In order not to get caught staring at this stranger, they turned around to find that everyone was in the middle of an energetic conversation about some battle or training session. Only the man with black hair and a braided beard, who they guessed was Hogun, was standing quietly by. 

“His name is Loki. Brother of Thor,” Hogun said calmly to Y/N, who was rather confused for a moment as to who Hogun was talking about. He looked into their eyes and they understood who Hogun was referring to - the man on the balcony. They gazed upon the room and found Loki sitting by himself, also observing the party happening before him. Although the picture could be interpreted as a sad moment, he did look content with his situation. 

“What’s up with him?” Y/N asked curiously, not knowing how to express their question better. They got this weird feeling from the man across the room, as if they could feel his presence more than they ycould feel everyone else’s. They looked back at Hogun after a moment, who simply sighed slightly at the question, letting it hang in the air. 

“It’s complicated. Just,” he paused for a second before he looked into their eyes, “be wary if you are to converse with him. He can be manipulative.” Hogun’s warning echoed in their head while they walked to the long table to get themselves some food. It was a never ending buffet, a feast. So many different combinations could be made, it was nearly impossible to choose. The scents all mixed with each other and the foods’ warmth was felt on Y/N’s skin as they walked along the side of the table. 

In a moment of unawareness, as they turned around to try and find Thor again, they walked into the back of a stranger. 

“Oh shit sorry,” Y/N exclaimed when they realised what had happened. The stranger turned around, and soon Y/N realised that they were dealing with Loki. 

Loki the God of Mischief. 

And suddenly everything stood still. 

[whitecatindisguise]

Let Me Make You Proud 1

I hereby give you my new/old fanfiction. It's been stuck on my drive for months already, waiting to be finished. It's not done yet, but I figured maybe actually posting it will give me the boost needed to finally finish it.

Be ready for angst and, ofc, LOTS of Varian.

So, without further ado...

-----

Chapter 1: Maybe I Make Things A Mess

“Thank you, have a nice day!” The bell over the door to the apothecary jingled, as they opened and closed, letting the client out of the shop.

He was carrying a lot of bags, packages, bottles and vials full of strange-coloured materials. He turned around and almost fell, his shoppings swaying dangerously in his arms. He stumbled, trying to both stop his fall and not let any of the things he carried leave his arms. There was a chitter, and a racoon quickly climbed up his body and stabilized the tower of ingredients. Varian let out the sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Ruddiger. You’re a lifesaver” He smiled at his friend. He tried to pet it, but the packages swayed dangerously again, and they barely managed to save all of them again. “Phew, I don’t want to think what would happen if any of those fell. Some are really unstable and need to be handled with utmost caution.”

The racoon chittered and nodded its head in agreement. He positioned himself on the boy’s shoulders, ready to stabilize the tower, if needed. 

“I can’t wait until we’re back home. I have so many ideas I can use them for.” Varian babbled as he continued down the road. “I could finally finish that recipe I am working on, the one used for laundry. Or create more of my goo-bombs, never know when I’ll be needing those. Or-”

He stopped abruptly, as he fell into someone in front of him. The ingredients swayed dangerously again. Varian and Ruddiger rushed to make stop them from falling. They both released a sigh of relief when they were stabilized again. 

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Varian apologized to whoever he fell into. “I actually don’t see much, with all that stuff and everything.” He chuckled nervously. 

“Don’t worry about that.” The voice that answered sent a chill down the alchemist’s spine. It was familiar, and not in a good way. He gulped and took a few steps back.

“O-Okay, then. If nothing happened then I’ll be on my way. I have lots of work, my dad’s waiting for me to come back, and-” He babbled, continuing to move away. Suddenly, his back hit something and two strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Oh, you should stay, Varian. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” The items he was holding lifted from his hands and levitated away, uncovering a man standing in front of him.

He had dark-tanned skin, black hair and black beard. He stood confidently, his arms crossed on his chest and a sword hanging by his side. 

“A-Andrew. Long time, no-” The alchemist tried to play it cool, but stopped abruptly when faced with a tip of the sword just barely inches from his nose. 

“Long time, in deed ” Andrew agreed, smirking at the younger boy. “How long was it? Five months?”

“It was actually six months, three weeks and five days, but who’s counting.” Varian chuckled nervously and tried to move away, only to be stopped by the strong hands keeping him in place. “We-Weren’t you supposed to be in jail?” 

“Yes, but thanks to you, we’re free as birds.” Andrew took back his sword and brushed it with his finger. 

“Thanks to me? I don’t remember-” Varian protested but Andrew shushed him quickly. He reached to his pocket and produced a vial with very familiar green-luminescent liquid. 

“Your fast-melting acid sure comes in handy in situations like this. Especially, as a clue to the guards searching the cell.” The Saporian explained with an evil smile.

Varian felt his blood draining from his face. If the guards find HIS potion in the empty cell with a melted lock and the prisoners gone…

“W-Well, it COULD have worked, if you didn’t tell me about it ” He said, trying to sound tough but his voice cracking somewhere in the middle. “Now all I need is to tell Rapunzel and-”

“Oh, but who said you can tell anyone?” Andrew cut him in again and came closer. “After you helped us escape, you couldn’t have stayed behind, right? This would be unwise. You could be caught, or worse…”

The pressure on Varian’s shoulders strengthened and he swallowed nervously. 

“Rapunzel will never fall for it!” He exclaimed confidently. 

“Oh, yes. Princess Rapunzel. The protector of weak and unrightfully accused citizens of Corona.” Andrew laughed, followed by three other voices. “Too bad she’s more focused on other problems. Like a traitor friend.”

“Cass is not a traitor!” Varian shouted in anger. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” The Saporian shrugged his arms and turned around.” Well, enough chit-chat, we need to move. Kai, grab him. Clemetine, get his things. We don’t want to leave any UNNECESSARY evidence.” He ordered. 

Varian tried to fight, but the large Saporian was much stronger than he was. With no problem he grabbed the alchemist and threw him over his shoulder. 

“Hel-!” He tried calling out, but a sword to his throat proved to be enough to stop him. 

“One sound, and I won’t be so nice.” Andrew threatened. “We need you alive, but we can skip the undamaged part.” 

They moved fast through the back streets, emerging at the empty square somewhere in the outskirts of the town. In the middle, ready to go, stood a hot-air balloon with one more Saporian inside it. 

“Took you long enough!” The Saporian woman scoffed, eyeing Varian. 

“Relax, we’re just in time for-” Andrew started but an angry shout from behind cut him in.

“There they are! Don’t let them escape!” Captain of the Royal Guard cried, pointing his sword at the group. 

“Get in!” The leader ordered and took out one more potion from his pocket, this time a pink one. “Varian says hi!” He laughed as he threw the potion at the incoming guards. 

There was a large cloud of pink smoke, and the guards were glued to the ground with a large dose of pink goo. Andrew laughed and caught the rope from the balloon, which was already several feet in the air. 

Varian looked with a growing fear as the guards on the ground became smaller and smaller with each passing second. He didn’t have time to think about it too much, though, as he was forcefully grabbed and thrown to the floor of the balloon. Ruddiger scrambled to his side and he hugged him defensively. 

“Wh-What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice trembling in fear.

“Oh, you’ll learn soon enough...” Andrew replied, playing with the blade of his sword.

He crouched in front of the terrified boy and leaned in so close, Varian felt his back pushing the wall of the basket outside. The Saporian smirked and smacked the boy’s cheek in a playful manner.

“Don’t open your eyes so much or they’ll fall out, kid.” He laughed and the others quickly joined in. 

“My-My dad will notice I’m missing.” The alchemist tried again, his stuttering making him sound like a scared five-year-old. “I was supposed to be back home soon."

“I am sure the Royal Guards will be more than happy to enlighten him how his son helped one of the most dangerous criminals escape from the dungeons.” Andrew smirked as he stood up and walked to the other side of the basket. “What do you think will be his reaction?”

Varian opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked down and hugged Ruddiger, still sitting on his laps. He imagined his father’s face, painted with sadness. It was a face he’d seen so many times already, everytime one of his inventions blew up or didn’t act like he designed it to. Disappointed.

He felt Ruddiger reaching out its paw and touching his cheek. He felt his eyes watering but managed to stop it. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of these people. But it didn’t stop him from feeling he’d failed his father once more. 

'It would have probably been better if I wasn’t born', he thought with a heavy heart, as the balloon moved further and further away from the capital of Corona.

-----

And that concludes the first chapter. We're in for a long ride, full of angst. Hope you have seatbelts fastened.

I will try to update once a week, since it will give me more time to actually finish the story. Once I've written everything, the updates might be more frequent.

[yandere-society]

Day 11 | Santa Tell Me

Synopsis: You’ve always been strangely scared of Santa as a child. The thought of a stranger in heavy boots breaking into your home and rummaging through your stuff has always terrified you. And you felt that terror right now, in this instant, as you laid there with two men in bright green suits hovering over your pretend-sleeping form.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Vmin x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby​​

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, bad crack, attempted kidnapping, stalking, stupid jokes, joke about religion, swearing, bad mouthing Santa 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You really hated Christmas.

You hated everything that had to do with Christmas. All the sugary deserts, the unhealthy binging, the fake family bonding and seasonal depression longing. The freezing weather that froze your toes and pipes, the blinding red and greens, otherwise known as holiday delights. The overzealous consumerism around every corner, the empty materialism that gave everyone boners. The deforestation and self-righteousness, the ugly sweaters and proud religious mess. You hated Christmas and its warping spider’s net and all the very, merry, happy, holy, holly, jolly shit that went along with it.  

It wasn’t like you ever had a good Christmas to change your mind. When you were six, every girl at school had the brand-new light up Princess Dolly sneakers for Christmas but thanks to your skinflint of a dad, you got the direct knock off; Princess Polly sneakers. Polly with a PUH. They didn’t even fucking light up. To this day you get nightmares from the bullying. At 15, you got typhoid fever before the big ski vacation and while everyone else got to go have the time of their life, you were stuck rotting at home with your weird cousin Sigil who collected the dead skins from snake sheds. And just last year, at an unbearably boring office party, your ex best friend and crush made out under the mistletoe for 15. Whole. Minutes. Last you heard of them, they were engaged.

Let’s not even start about your irrational fear of Santa Claus. Every bad Christmas could be traced back to him. You cried the first time you heard your dad describe the bearded old man. Your reaction confused the hell out of him but to you, he was the strange one. What kind of parent allows an overgrown, capitalist bear man who dresses in red and brainwashes elf and reindeer to come into their home using the chimney and spy on their kids throughout the whole year? Was he a sadist? When you were younger, you would wet the bed just thinking of him stomping around your house in the dark. Safe to say, you never left him any cookies. Now, you’re just glad you grew out of the phase of believing in such a horrid creature like Santa Claus. Finally, you could sleep happy knowing that no one would sneak into your house in the middle of the night.

So, while we’re on that topic…who exactly were the two men whispering in the dark inside your room if it’s definitely not Santa?

“We have to quickly get back before he notices we’re missing. QUICKLY, Taehyung.”

“I know, I know. Let me just untangle this rope, Jimin.”

Who the fuck were Taeyoong and Jimmy and what the fuck were they doing in your house? That’s what you were thinking as you laid on your bed pretending to be asleep, absolutely still in the complete dark. Of course, you had a break in on the night of Christmas because why the fuck not. What made you think this one year, your Christmas day would turn out okay?

You were stuck even further because you lost the window of opportunity to wake up and startle the intruders and perhaps scream for help because since the moment they snuck in (3 minutes ago) you did nothing but lay there listening to their banter like the idiot you are. Maybe you could pretend all their ‘noise’ woke you up, but then again you weren’t too fond of your acting skills.

But honestly, who were they? What did they want? Why did they keep mentioning returning before this ‘he’ found out they were gone?

As you were pondering your crisis, someone blew straight into your ear. You shot up from the bed with a scream and immediately turned on the lamp beside you. Two men in strange green tunics and stockings, pointy ears, and tall hats with a bell stare back at you with an equally horrified expression.

They were dressed up as…elves?

“See, I told you she was awake.” The one on your right, resembling a small animal, possibly the bastard who blew in your ear, chirps.

“Wow, you really do have night vision, Jiminie.” The taller one behind the edge of your bed, the one holding a rope says, while staring at you in a daze.

“Who the fuck are you both? How did you get in? What do you want?” You shout, bringing your comforter to your chest.

All they do is stare at you with lovesick eyes to which you scowl. Hold on, why were your potential murderers so hot?

“_-___,” The one on the right calls you carefully. He had round and soft features with a sharp jaw. Slender eyes and bright pink hair matching his rosy cheeks on his otherwise cute pale face. “It’s an honor to finally meet you…my name is J-Jimin.”

“I’m Taehyung.” You turn to the man with the rope. His features were extremely well proportioned and downright lethal. A devilishly handsome face, beautiful golden skin and dark brown mopy hair. He appeared and sounded like a mature sugar daddy but stared at you like a 12-year-old pervert.

You sat silent after the two men’s greetings. What were you supposed to say after intruders introduced themselves? Nice to meet you? And how did they know your name?

“…O-Okay…Jimin, Taehyung…why are you in my house.”

“We’re here to kidnap you.” Jimin smiles, his eyes turning into crescents.

“E…Excuse me?”

“Yeah! We’re here because we love you and we want you for ourselves, so we have to take you from your home.” Taehyung says, stretching the rope in his hands.

“WHAT?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Did you perhaps start hallucinating after your edible once again? Because that would explain this crazy ass dream you were having right now. Since when did you have an elf kink though?

“So you see,” Jimin begins walking to stand beside Taehyung so now they were both in front of you, “We’re Santa’s elves. We were the ones assigned to watch over you, see if you were naughty or nice.”

“Pfft, you’re very naughty~” Taehyung giggles, blushing like crazy. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“And over the years,” Jimin continues, “We came to fall in love with you to the point of obsession. So now we want to kidnap you and take you to the north pole where we three will live in a polyamorous relationship and only me and Taehyung will get to be with you.”

“We’ll fuck every day.” Taehyung chimes in proudly, earning a smack to the back of his head from Jimin who mutters ‘not yet.’

“Ahahaha, what Taehyung meant was…of course any sexual relationship would be consensual. No means no, after all.” Jimin winks awkwardly

You just sat there, mouth wide open as your brain refused to process all the information that was just presented to you. So not only were your intruders dressed up as elves, but they were also clinically insane.

“I’m calling the cops.”

“W-wait! We can prove it to you!” Jimin jumps, rushing back to your side. “When you were 10, you really wanted a MayaMaya doll collection set didn’t you? You didn’t tell your dad about it because you thought he would get you the knock off; the Papaya doll collection. It was the first and only time you were okay with Santa coming into your house, so you didn’t even set the bear trap in the fireplace like you did every year.”

He was right. What the fuck.

“W…how did you know that?”

“We saw you.” Jimin says, eyes soft and smile tender, “You were wishing so earnestly that Christmas Eve, it almost made me cry.”

“W…wait so…Santa is real?”

“Of course.” They sang in unison

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, time out.” You huff, “He’s been real this whole time, yet he’s never gotten me what I wanted for Christmas?”

“Oh, my love.” Taehyung strides up and sits on your side of the bed, taking your hand in his. “It was out of our hands…we tried to get you on the nice list, but he could sense your bad vibes…also I’m pretty sure he was salty you never left him cookies. He is sort of petty.”

“So you’re telling me that hippy bitch Claire really did deserved that large purple dollhouse more than me?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she hasn’t been on the nice list for a long time now…all she asks for are sex toys.” Taehyung stares off into the distance.

“How long have ya’ll been watching me?”

“We are supposed to stop once a kid doesn’t believe in Santa anymore...but we were just always rooting for you. Before we knew it, we were watching you way into adulthood...and then slowly we started falling in love with you.” Jimin blushes

“...Have ya’ll seen me-”

“Naked? No...but we really want to.” Taehyung bites his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe this…” You groan, placing a palm over your forehead.

“Hey now, Jesus didn’t die today for you to be full of despair.” The taller elf rubs your hand with his thumb

“No, you idiot. He was born today…I think.” Jimin tsks

“Oh…well the point still stands. Don’t be sad my love. We never want you to have a bad Christmas again.”

“Anyway, we should hurry before Santa notices we abandoned him. That ass-kisser Jin also tagged along so we don’t have to worry too much about our portion of the presents since he would love to show off how competent he is to Santa all by himself. We can just say we ran a bit late because some kid almost woke up.” Jimin tells Taehyung to which he nods, getting his rope ready.

Oh right, this was a kidnapping. You forgot.

“___, just stay perfectly still and we’ll easily load you into the bottom of Santa’s gift sack. That thing is huge, no one will notice but us.”

“Guys, wait.” You say to which they freeze. “Let me think about this.”

They look at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you start to contemplate it. Should you go with the two elves that barged into your house and tried to kidnap you and possibly turn you into a sex slave?

…

What were the pros and cons?

If you go to the North Pole, you’d basically be stuck with everything you hate about Christmas all year round. But could it be that bad seeing how smoking these two elves were? They could easily keep you warm. Were all elves this hot? Wait…could Santa possibly be hot? Your mouth watered thinking about it. Is this an enemies to lovers AU after all?

Whatever it was, it was interesting and more importantly you had a lot of unfinished business with the man in red. You could see it now, forming a mutiny with all the elves. Killing Claus and taking over his empire. Then it would be you who rules Christmas and boy, do you have a few changes you wanted to make like the beginning of this story states. Finally, all your wishes will come true. This time you WILL get the light up Princess Dolly sneakers and MayaMaya doll collection set.

And so, with a sinister plot forming in your head, you smile at the two eager elves in front of you.

“Alright boys, let’s go.”

Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad after all.

[dhawanstan]

Trapped, dear Yaz! (or the unexpected twist)

Heya! I wrote a little fanfiction based on the Spyfall scene where Yaz is in the box and left with O. I hope you'll enjoy this rewriting. Please excuse the typos and mistakes in advance, I'm not English. I've also made a drawing you'll find in the middle of the story♡ Don't hesitate to give me your feedback :)

Potential trigger warning and details: Slight mention of mind control. No smut/ NSFW and no ship

──────⊱◈◈◈⊰──────

"D- Doctor! Where are you going?!"

Yaz asked, seeing her friends heading to the door to go outside. She was panicked and sounding breathless, her gaze drifting from O to the shelves then to the Doctor, her eyes widened.

"Don't worry Yaz !"

The Doctor exclaimed, giving her friend a smile.

"O will help you to get out of the box. I'd have help but only him knows the mechanism to open it. I'm counting on you mate!"

As she spoke, she turned to O, this one concentrated on searching the software and program to free Yaz. He raised his head up when the Doctor mentioned him, smiling awkwardly.

"Y-Yeah."

He cleared his throat and straightened, clumsily holding on the edge of his desk.

"I'm working on it, Doctor. Just few settings.... It'll be okay Yaz."

He gave her a brief reassuring smile before turning back to the screen, smirking a bit.

The door closed, Yaz left alone in the hut with a stranger. Instantly, the atmosphere changed, the heavy silence making her feel uneasy. Tears have streamed along her cheeks and she was still sobbing, shocked by what happened to her. 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘥. She thought she was dead, teleported in this place, on her own. It has been painful to be sent in this box by the light creature. Yaz will never forget the trauma she's lived. And now this man, O, the Doctor's /mate/ didn't seem to be so reassuring... Yaz couldn't grasp what but there was something wrong about him. The young woman swallowed a lump in her throat, the malaise increasing when he turned to her. His eyes were darker than ever, and the stare he was giving made shivers running down her spine. What was he doing? Why looking at her like that? Why did he stop the process of opening the box?...

"What are you doing? O?..."

He didn't reply, still observing her. Was he waiting for her to look away? Was he trying to intimidate her?... However, the little stare game he was playing seemed to work, the Doctor's companion glanced away, turning her back to him.

"O-O... Please... Stop doing that... This is so awkward."

"Is it?"

His question made her heart skip a beat, the tone of his voice cold, emotionless.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that? Can't you free me? What's wrong?..."

"Well. It's not really that I can't free you. But more that....I won't!"

O has left his desk and walked slowly to the box where Yaz was imprisoned.

"I won't let you out of this box, Yaz."

He repeated as if to make himself clear and make Yaz process what he was saying, the young woman gasping and widening her eyes.

"W-What?! What are you talking about?! You have to let me out!"

She banged on the glass, O snickering. He approached the box more, slamming his hands on the glass so suddenly Yaz jumped and moved back, her body trembling.

"Now now, calm down. Everything will be alright. Or not!"

He burst out laughing, removing his hands from the glass and stepping back, tilting his head to the side.

"I think I'll keep you here for a moment. Make the Doctor believe I need more time to free you. Oh and, shush! Don't make a fuss. I can always make this box soundproof if you dare screaming!"

"Who are you?! What do you want?!!"

Her voice went high pitched, her panic rising once again. She felt her thoracic cage being compressed and her lungs were hurting.

"Let me go! Who are you?! Why are you doing this?!"

"I told you to stay quiet!"

He snapped, baring his teeth and frowning, then smirking seeing Yaz was terrorised. He decided it was time to reveal himself to the poor human.

"I believe you understand I'm not O. Disguising among you humans is so easy! Can't believe she didn't notice her old friend!"

"Her...old friend?"

Yaz raised an eyebrow, confused by the man' words. /Something's definitely wrong/ she thought and turned to him again, her heart pounding into her chest.

"I'm the Master, Yaz. And you better obey me from now on.... Or..."

He pulled the furniture's drawer and tugged out a strange device from it.

"...I turn you into a little doll. How cute you'll be!"

"W-What is that?..."

He looked down, his fingers twirling around it.

"It's a Tissue Compression Eliminator, or TCE. Lethal weapon, shrinking you down. Time Lord genius. Made by me, of course."

He pointed at himself in a humble manner, laughing at how Yaz was looking at him. The girl was stunned. Exactly how he was planning it to be.

"Time Lord?.... You- You are a Time Lord?... So you know the Doctor?..."

"Of course I am! Geez. I thought you'd be smarter than that, little human."

The Master pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before sniffing and starting to pace around the box.

"I'm her best enemy. And it turns out you are my second victim. I killed O, this boring MI6 agent. I infiltrated the office, working on my plan to get close to the Doctor. And the Kasaavin just teleported you in my box! Plus..."

He paused, stopping to pace before resuming.

"...You seem to be her favourite companion. I saw it in her eyes. And it's giving me an idea..."

The Master stroked his beard, humming. He snapped his fingers and a grin formed on his lips.

"...You'll work with me, you, the loyal Doctor's companion. Oooh how despaired and hurt she'll be! So satisfying!"

He rubbed his hands together, watching Yaz starting to get agitated in her little bird cage. She banged on the glass, calling for the Doctor, the Master amused.

"Ha! This is very funny! Don't worry dear, I won't hurt you. But you'll have to help me. Whether you want it or not."

"No! I'll never help you! Let me out! Doctor! Doctor!!!"

The Master rolled his eyes and took back his TCE, aiming it at the box. With a 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬, he settled it soundproof, cackling madly.

"Shhhh... Calm down... Everything will be alright, Yaz. Just listen to me."

His voice dropped low, his eyes fixing hers intensely without blinking. Yaz tried to look away but she couldn't, his stare forcing her eyes to keep the eye contact. She whimpered, a violent headache making her head bang. It was so sudden She was feeling tired, like her energy was drained from her body.

"W-What are you...doing...to me..."

"Me? Oh, nothing, I think this little experience with the Kasaavin was too much for a human like you."

He turned his back to her before walking away, leaning against the wall. He pressed the word "𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯" with disdain as he spoke, his jaws clenched, watching Yaz struggle to stand on her feet. /Shouldn't take long/ he thought. And he was right because Yaz dropped onto her knees, her head bobbed down. She was giving in his mind control, tears of powerlessness streaming down her cheeks. After few minutes of struggle, her eyes closed, Yaz falling laid down on the floor in a loud thud while "O" approached the box, menacing.

"You'll have no choice, Yaz. You'll stick with me. And you'll watch me control 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨!"

THE END

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Four | Circus ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Orochimaru ] [ Verse: Fabulous Freaks ]

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Humans have, for uncounted years, enjoyed making spectacles of things strange, obscure, frightening. To gawk at what is different is to take comfort in one’s normalcy.

But few ever think of what it must mean to be different.

“Over here! Hurry up!”

Panting in panic, a young boy is wrestled forward, the canvas sack over his head barring breath and vision alike. Rough, chafing rope holds his wrists behind his back, a hand dragging him forward by an upper arm.

He has no idea where he is, or why...or who has brought him here. Around him, a cacophony of noises only make him all the more confused, a plethora of conflicting smells burning his nose. Smoke, food, dung, perfume.

...where is he?!

Why?!

Then something changes. A door is heard to open, he struggles up several stairs, and then it closes behind him. Everything cuts off. The noise, the smell...the abrupt change makes him stagger.

“...take it off. Let’s see what we used all this effort on.”

The canvas is whipped from his head, and the boy flinches, stumbling back a step. He’s...in some kind of wagon. Cluttered with photographs, props, and other paraphernalia he can’t begin to recognize. And before him, sitting on an elevated chair with one leg atop a knee, is a person.

He...can’t tell if they’re a man or a woman. Porcelain-pale skin is made all the more striking by dark eye makeup, the person in question looking down at him appraisingly.

Like a steer for slaughter.

“Ooh...he really is ugly, isn’t he?” The stranger gives a venomous chuckle. “No wonder he was abandoned. Who could stand to look at a face like that…?”

Taken aback at the sudden cruelty, the boy flinches. He wasn’t abandoned…! His grandmother, the last of his known family, had died a few months ago, leaving him alone. He’d taken to the streets, but...they were cruel to all, let alone someone so...so…

“What is your name, boy? Do you even have one?”

Glowering half-heartedly, he hesitates for a long moment. “O...Obito.”

“Obito...well, welcome to your new home, Obito.” The stranger gestures outward with both outstretched arms. “A humble traveling circus. Fitting for someone like you, don’t you think?”

“This isn’t my home! You kidnapped me!”

“Mm...yes, yes I did. But tell me, boy...what do you have to go back to? Look at you.” Taking up a cane, they prod at his ribs. “Thin as a rail, dirty, sickly...you’ll simply wither away if you stay out in the gutters. Why not stay here, with others displaced like yourself…?”

Obito steps back from their touch, still glaring. He knows this...person has a point. He’s been eating garbage and refuse, avoiding the cruel looks of strangers. Nothing but a miserable, fading existence. But...a circus…? “...w-what do you want with me?”

“To put you on display! To take what makes you odd...and let it turn you into a star. I have many oddities just like you. People who are different. That amaze, frighten, or confuse onlookers. People come from miles around to see our little family of freaks. All you need to do is stand and be gawked at. Do that, and I can guarantee you meals, a cot to sleep in, and a place to call home. More than fair, don’t you think…?”

Obito’s nose wrinkles. “...I already get stared at…”

“But you get none of the perks, do you? Why let yourself wither away, embittered and alone, when you could thrive, knowing that this hideous face is no longer reviled, but revered! It’s so simple, Obito…” The cane lifts, catching his chin and forcing him to meet the gaze of his captor. “...so just say yes. Or...I can dump you back in the gutter. It’s your choice. So make the right one, hm…?”

Chin trembling, Obito tries to logic his way out of this...but in truth, he knows he should agree. He has nothing left. Nothing. Would it really be that bad? To trade his pride for a chance at living? “...f-fine.”

Lips curl into a cruel smile. “Perfect…! Take him to the others, let him...settle in. We’ll introduce him to his new life in the morning.”

The same brute who dragged him takes out a knife, earning a flinch. But he only cuts the rope, letting blood and feeling flow back into the boy’s hands. Wringing them gingerly, Obito realizes he has little else to do but follow.

Now unblinkered, he takes in his surroundings once they leave the wagon. They’re behind the tents and attractions, animals sulking in cages and people milling about. Clowns, acrobats, beast tamers...all looking far less bright and animated than they do when the spotlights are on.

“This way. No lollygaggin’.”

Flinching, Obito follows the man into a tent.

Within, several cots are already strung up and occupied. They all look like adults. “Toward the back is an empty one. Go get some shuteye, you’ve got work to do in the morning.”

Stepping aside and eyeing him warily, Obito does as suggested and heads toward the rear of the tent...which goes dark as the flap falls behind the exiting troupe member.

He freezes, trying to let his eyes adjust.

“Pssst! Over here!”

Startling, he sees a light bloom ahead: dim, but visible. Like a moth to a flame, Obito hurries toward it, stumbling over things on the ground before reaching the very back of the tent.

Atop one of the cots is a person draped with a thin blanket, hiding their visage as it drapes low over their face. A pale, dainty hand holds aloft a candle. “That one there is empty. Just across.”

About-facing, Obito finds the empty hammock behind him before turning back to the other figure. It’s rather small...maybe someone close to his age? The voice is also diminutive, quiet and soft. Obito assumes it belongs to a girl. “W...who are you?”

“...just another one of the freaks,” she replies. “You must be new…”

He hesitates. “...yeah. I’m Obito.”

“...Ryū.” Slightly, her head tilts up, and though the shadows are deep beneath the blanket, the light nonetheless catches a pair of silver eyes. They flicker, and Obito can tell she’s studying his face.

Ashamed, he glances aside, hiding the deformed skin that stretches from brow to chin, ear to nose.

“...you don’t have to hide, you know.”

“...everyone stares…”

“But here, to be weird is to be normal. We all have something different about us. So when you put us all together...it’s really not so weird anymore.” Lifting her free hand, she pulls back the blanket.

Obito stares.

Like some kind of ghost, her entire form is colorless. Snow-pale skin, grey eyes, and every hair he can see completely white. “...they call me Specter when I’m performing. Kinda obvious why, huh?”

“But...you don’t look weird,” Obito protests, forgetting to hide his face. “You’re so pretty!”

She tenses, clearly taken aback before she brings the blanket back over her head. But he still sees the rosy blush in her cheeks. “...I’ve never seen anyone else who looked like me...except my mama. When she died...I got taken here. I’ve been here since I was four.”

“Four…?” He wilts - at thirteen now, it’s quite the difference. “...my gran took me in when I was a baby. My parents died when our house burned...everyone thought I would die from my wounds. But I didn’t. Now I just...look like this.”

Ryū’s gaze lifts. “...they’re scars…?”

“Along my whole side down to my thigh,” he replies bitterly. “Everyone else called me a freak...but Gran loved me all the same. When she...w-when she died, I had nowhere else to go…”

“And that’s when Orochimaru found you.”

“Who?”

“The ringmaster. They take in anyone they think will get more people to come to their circus.” It’s Ryū’s turn to sound bitter. “They tell us we’re a family, but...it’s all a lie. No one is happy here. We’re just ways for them to make money…”

“Why don’t you leave?”

“Where can I go? I’ve been here almost my whole life, I know nothing else. The only talent I have are the dances I had to learn...what use is that to anyone? And none of us get to make any money...we have nothing. It all belongs to the ringmaster. Including us.”

Not having an answer, Obito chews the scar along his lip in thought. “...someday, we’ll leave. When we’re grown! We’ll figure something out, right?”

Her gaze falls. “...someday.”

The pair fall into a somber silence, the wax of the candle starting to wane. But before it dies, Ryū lifts a hand. “...may I…?”

Looking back up, Obito hesitates...but then steps a little closer to her cot.

Gently, she lets a few fingertips trace along the ridges of the scars. They even extend up into his hairline, leaving him with lopsided locks.

Her dainty touches make the skin tingle, and Obito has to repress a shiver. “...ugly, aren’t they?”

“...no. They’re strong,” is her rebuke. “...they show that you lived.”

He has no retort for that. “...I-I should...try to sleep.”

Letting her hand retreat, Ryū offers, “Just do as you’re told, and you won’t have any trouble. And if you need any help, just ask me, okay?”

“...okay.” He moves to the empty cot, kicking off his shoes and struggling to lie down without being tossed back out.

Only once he goes still does Ryū extinguish her candle.

Outside, the muffled sounds of the waning circus evening keep him awake. So many unknowns, so much to fear. But...he has a dry place to sleep. Something over his head. Food to eat.

And...maybe a friend.

He can handle this...for now. But someday, he’ll escape. And he’ll take Ryū with him. He doesn’t know how they’ll do it, but...they will.

Someday.

The next morning, the same man that dragged him here wakes them at the crack of dawn. And Obito sees the others who occupy the tent: the rest of the malformed. A set of conjoined twin boys, another with extra limbs, a woman with a bearded face, and a man with just one eye in the center of his head are just a few of the people subjected to scrutiny.

Along with the rest of the troupe, there’s a hurried breakfast before they help in carrying out the preparatory tasks of upkeep. Cleaning up garbage, setting up props and tents, hauling in supplies from the train...whatever it takes to be ready for another wave of guests.

Once that’s done...it’s time for their real work to begin.

Led to a long, narrow tent, Obito balks at the sight of cages. And like trained dogs, every one of the so-called freaks takes their place within one.

“The hell are you waiting for? Get into place!”

Obito feels a push at his back, nearly stumbling as he’s forced toward a small, empty crate. Once inside, the door is shut...but not locked.

“Remember...look alive, ladies and gents! Don’t leave the guests disappointed.”

...and so it goes.

For hours and hours, people parade through the tent, gawking and pointing at the unfortunates within. Small children hide behind their parents, whose noses wrinkle in disgust. On and on and on it goes.

And then the worst possible happenstance comes to pass.

Shuffling past his cage, a pair of young people stop. Obito, despondent, looks up as he hears his name uttered in question.

...he knows these two.

Staring at him in horror, a boy and a girl meet his eyes, full of questions they can’t bring themselves to ask. For a long moment, the trio stare at one another...before the boy beyond the bars urges his feminine companion away, the pair of them whispering to each other before fading out of sight.

He’s never felt so humiliated.

Only once the daylight starts fading is the tent closed, and the cast freed to have their evening meal. Legs sore from being so confined, Obito winces and hobbles behind the rest of them.

Only Ryū waits for him.

“...I heard two people say your name,” she murmurs softly, noting his look of shame. “Did someone recognize you…?”

“...yeah,” he replies, tone warbling. “Now everyone will know.”

“...we’ll change cities, soon. I’m sorry, Obito.” She offers a hand, gently leading him back to where they’re fed.

But her day isn’t yet done.

“You...perform?”

“Mhm. I tightrope walk,” Ryū confirms. She’s changed into a white leotard and leggings, hair bound up tight behind her head.

“Can I see…?”

“You can stay by the back entrance - I think you can see from there. Just don’t let anyone spot you, okay?”

“Okay…!”

Tucking behind a barrel, Obito peers out as Ryū’s act is announced: Specter, the ghost of the circus who defies gravity itself. Up a ladder she climbs to a rope tied between two of the main poles of the largest tent. Barefoot, she makes her way out, balance maintained as she walks, flips, and seems to dance. With each stunt, the crowd gasps as the rope sways.

...there’s no net, should she fall.

Obito watches with bated breath, both fearful she’ll stumble, and yet entranced as she remains upright. But when the act is done and the applause sounds out, she’s still safe.

He sighs at last.

“That was amazing…!”

Giving him a glance from her cot that night, she ducks her head with a demure smile. “...thanks.”

“Does everybody do more than sit in the cages?”

“Some do, but not everyone.” Ryū considers him. “...do you have any special talents you could do?”

That makes him hesitate. “...I dunno.”

“If you find one, maybe you can get an act. If you do, you get out early to prepare.”

Well, that’s all the convincing he needs! Any less time he has to spend in that tent, the better. So when no one is looking, he starts practicing with throwing knives.

It takes time - they change cities more than once before he’s any good at it, and several more before he’s confident. Presenting his new talent to the ringmaster, he’s given a secondary slot to perform.

...and so it goes. Days blend into weeks, to months, and then to years. All across the land they travel, the circus torn down and put up again and again as the train takes them back and forth.

Soon enough, Obito is no longer a boy. After years of lugging supplies and pitching tents, he’s gotten far bulkier than his scrawny childhood self. Easily able to pack just about anything, he performs feats of strength for onlookers, including smashing a bell with a weight propelled by a hammer strike.

It earns him the stage name the Burned Beast.

And all the while, Ryū keeps up her acts. She too blossoms, growing into a young woman and becoming one of the most popular acts of the circus. Posters bear her face, and she’s often toted around on Obito’s shoulder to gain more attention before her act every night.

But it’s not just her talents she’s lauded for. While her ghostly appearance puts off some, it brings in others.

Needless to say...most back down when Obito looms up behind her, glowering them all back like mice before a hawk.

While he’s made a friend or two beyond Specter, the pair remain closest with one another. Ryū tends to any injuries he gets, gently keeping him in tip-top shape. And Obito serves almost as a guard whenever necessary.

And neither of them have forgotten their wish to someday escape.

They often speak of it long into the night, ruminating and reminiscing: discussing what they’ll do once they’re free.

The only question is how to do it.

Staring out at the darkening horizon one night, Obito’s brow furrows. “...seems like it’s going to rain tonight.”

“Really?” Ryū joins him at the mouth of the barrack tent, pinning up her hair as she glances out. “...well, it should be fine. We’ll be inside for the rest of the night.”

As she retreats, Obito keeps up his vigil. Something doesn’t feel right.

...but they have a show to put on.

Over the years, Ryū’s act has grown and evolved. Nowadays, she’s packed in on Obito’s shoulder, waving to the crowd until he throws her straight up to cling to a pair of hanging ropes. Twists and turns see her travel up and down the lengths until she finds her way to the tightrope.

And at Obito’s insistence, he remains below, ready to catch her should she fall. For a time, everything goes as per usual. Ryū wows the crowd with her stunts and agility.

But as the act switches to its second phase, the wind begins to pick up, rain pelting the canvas of the tent. And in the air, thunder rumbles.

It’s not just rain...it’s a thunderstorm.

Watching Ryū, Obito spares glances to the entrances. The weather is blowing in, causing those on the ends of the stands to huddle inward. Light flashes as bolts fling across the sky.

...this isn’t good.

And then, with a mighty clap, a streak of lightning hits the top of the tent...and flames begin to spread in spite of the rain.

Panic.

Circus people and guests alike scatter, scrambling for exits as the fire eats at the structure.

“Ryū!”

Huddled atop her rope, Ryū looks down to Obito and his open arms. “I-I -!”

“Jump!”

Steeling herself, she does just that, landing in his grip with a grunt.

He runs.

Like tinder, the rest of the circus is going up in flames. Canvas is quick to catch from flying sparks. Wagons erupt into fireballs. Cages are opened to let animals free, people fleeing into the rain.

“Obito!”

Still carrying her, he ignores her calls. Into the barrack tent he barrels. “Grab your things!”

“But -?”

“This is it! Our chance to run!”

Panic pales and pinches her face. “Where?!”

“Anywhere! We can’t stay here, it’s all -!”

With a crash, a flaming beam collapses atop the tent only feet from them, tongues of fire reaching eagerly for anything and everything it can reach...and blocking the way out.

“Run!”

Hauling her bag of meager possessions as Obito does the same, Ryū follows as he slashes the rear panel of canvas with a knife he’s kept hidden away from his act. Neither of them look back, fleeing toward the tracks where the engine - trying to avoid the spreading flames - begins to move.

“Get on!” Tossing his bag, Obito turns to Ryū, picking her up and setting her within the car.

“Obito!” She reaches a hand, hauling him up as he lands halfway onboard. As the locomotive begins to pick up speed, they watch the flaming carcass of the circus fade into the darkening distance.

...shocked silence falls over them both.

They aren’t the only ones who ran. Several others huddle in this car, and the rest are just as occupied.

No one finds the ringmaster.

Claiming a corner, the pair of them hunker down, clinging to their bags and trying to wrap their heads around the devastation.

“...it’s really over...isn’t it?”

Obito gives her a glance. She seems far more upset than he expected. “...yeah. It is.”

Clearly frightened, she leans into him, Obito not hesitating to wrap protective arms around her frame. “...I-I can’t believe it…”

“...we’re free.”

She looks up, expression slowly slackening to wonder. “...we’re free…”

“No more cages. No more ringmaster. Nothing. We can go our own way, now. Just like we planned, for so long…!” Carefully, he takes her face in his hands. “...no more Specter. No more Burned Beast. Just Ryū, and Obito.”

She softens, bringing a hand up to rest along his wrist. “...together.”

Eyes flickering over her face, Obito lets himself smile...and then do something he’s wanted to do for quite some time now. Lowering his own, he slowly - hesitantly - brings his lips to hers.

There’s a moment where she stiffens...but then she goes lax in his hold. It’s a slow, chaste, somber thing...but when they pull apart, they reconverge into a warm, comforting hold.

There’s no telling where they’ll end up now, with their pasts now up in cinders. But wherever it will be, they’ll be there together.

     So this is uh...very angsty x’D I don’t think it’s at all what Meg prolly pictured but it’s immediately what came to mind for me kjhdjfgdg      Circuses are, in some ways, not very great places. They’ve improved over time of course, but many still abuse animals, and even people still. Oro is our ringmaster as their actions in Oto could be seen as something similar: gathering up people who don’t fit in to “profit” off of them. So while they can be fun, my mind immediately went to the darker side of them mostly because of Phantom of the Opera but shhh.      ANYWAY, I could’ve fleshed this out more but I’m on a bit of a schedule ahaha~ So parts might seem a little rushed, but I tried ;w; That said I really enjoyed writing this one. Angst isn’t ALWAYS my cup of tea, but when I have a craving for it, it’s lots of fun x3      Thanks for reading!

[all-hail-the-witcher]

I have literally no clue how to do this, but director’s commentary on your ‘One expensive can of easy cheese’ fic?

hell yeah!!

all comments will be in bold

______

Race was sat on top of the counter in his and Albert’s apartment, race only knows how to sit on counters lets be real, he can't sit in a chair to save his life a piece of duct tape over his mouth and his hands tied together with kitchen twine KINKYY. He sighed against his restraints, resigned to watch his boyfriend make their contribution to this year’s Thanksgiving gathering: mac and cheese. okay so its mac and cheese cause if you read spies mac and cheese is Literally the Only thing albert knows how to cook, other than coffee, and he's Really Fuckin Good At It (he's the mikey of mac and cheese okay this is my hc)

Now, of course everyone and their mother knew that mac and cheese was not a Traditional Thanksgiving Food is it though, r a c e r?. But, Albert had won (best out of three) mario kart yesterday so he had gotten to decide what they would bring to Jack’s house i was gonna make it rock paper scissors, i do not know hot to play mariokart, but it sounds more heated than rock paper scissors. Had Race known that he had been planning to make mac and fucking cheese, maybe he would have tried a little harder race be quiet you literally love alberts mac and cheese its a known fact.

Apparently, Albert was not pleased with Race’s reaction to his decision to make mac and cheese, and thought that Race might try to get in the way somehow (which he may or may not have fully intended to do) he did. So he did what any loving boyfriend would: sat him on the counter, put duct tape over his mouth and tied his hands together so he wouldn’t interfere albert sounds real kinky in this, why did i make this so kinky, wait when did i even write this.

Race was beginning to wonder why he had agreed to move in with Albert in the first place. CAUSE YOU LOVE HIM THATS WHY

With a violent shake of his head and one final spat who the fuck uses the word spat huh saph??, he was able to dislodge the duct tape d i s l o d g e thats some karen bs right there.

“Albieeeeee,” he whined, laying down on the counter. “Can you pleaaaaaaaseee let me helllllllllp?” yeah albert let him help jeez he's the one who actually knows how to cook

Albert barely glanced up as he pulled the big wooden spoon out of the pot and gave it a thoughtful lick note to self, all licks should always be thoughtful. “Hmmmmmmm. No.” dumbass. if only you knew what was coming.

“But-!” He wriggled w r i g g l e d around to give Albert his best puppy dog eyes. “Can I make something else then? Ple-OW!” He glared at the spatula that had been hurled at his arm. “You apologize for that!” damn albie why so mean? o wait i wrote this wait...

“Nah.” He smirked and went back to stirring his wretched pasta okay but i did a good job making race salty i gotta give myself that. Well, actually Albert’s mac and cheese was quite good hELL YEAH IT IS. Race was just salty that he was making it for Thanksgiving when it was very well known that he was the chef of the two and Jack was expecting something good not the mac and cheese Albert famously made at 2am in college when they were all high as hell. okay real talk tho, no one eats good mac and cheese in college, its the instant microwave shit cause were all broke so thats a lie race

“Can you at least untie me then?” ;)

“No.” Albert even bother considering this time. albert this is gettin Real Kinky..

“Well.” If logic wasn't going to work on Albert he would have to try another method. “I know you know how to make a guy feel good Albie HAH YES I KNEW I PULLED SOMETHING WEIRD, but I never expected ropes to be a part of it. What’s next? Handcuffs? Whips? Chains?” i gotta tell ya life without ya has been hard. hard? has been bad. bad? has been r o u g h. k i N kY

In two seconds flat Race was out of his kitchen twine bonds and flexing his sore wrists. LIKE HECK HE WAS CAUSE ALBERTS ACE AND HE DONT WANT THAT REPUTATION!!!

“Man Albie, who knew you had a twine kink.” hehe u go race

“You know,” Albert began loudly, as if thinking that his loudness would cover up his totally obvious twine kink yeah albie has a twine kink, he licks it, no this is a joke, “if you want to do something that's actually useful, you could go to Walgreens and buy me another can of Easy Cheese.” W A L G R E E NS. this whole fit was an excuse to write another part of the walgreens au

“Is that what you put in your fuckin mac and cheese?” Race swore he actually felt bile rise in the back of his throat when Albert nodded. “That’s it. I’m never eating your mac and cheese again.” BUT YOU LIKE IT

“But-!”

“I’ll eat you though,” Race winked, taking a moment to enjoy the startled, yet somehow pleased look on his boyfriend’s face. okay maybe albert wasn't ace in this particular fic...

“Not until after we’re done at Jack’s.” yeah definitely not scratch that. i write a lot of fics. Albert said only half jokingly as he dug around in his pocket for a second before throwing a crumpled five at Race. “In the meantime though, be gone thot!” GO AWAYYYY. IM A MAN OF GOD. mikey and my sister have subjected me to too many tik toks im sorry

Race barely managed to catch the bill without falling on the floor, but still blew a kiss to Albert before walking out of the apartment.

Who the fuck puts easy cheese in mac and cheese? albert does. but its actually a plot point just to get you to walgreens and if anyone puts easy cheese in mac and cheese i will fite you. He wondered for the millionth time as he stomped the three blocks to Walgreens. Albert claimed that he had chosen his apartment for its proximity to the store he did, actually, but up until today Race had always assumed that he had been joking he was not. The man did make a lot of mac and cheese and if Easy Cheese was an ingredient well….maybe there was some truth to that story after all. you can buy easy cheese at a lot of places tho...i don't actually know if you can buy easy cheese at a walgreens

Race pulled open the door to the Walgreens, pausing briefly to wonder why the absolute fuck it was open on literal Thanksgiving before remembering that it was a fucking Walgreens and why wouldn’t it be open to sell his dumbass boyfriend a can of fucking Easy Cheese. walgreens remains a mystery indeed. my only experience was the one that my best friend and i would go to at lunch during senior year. also have you ever noticed that most walgreenses are on corners? cause their slogan is at the corner of happy and healthy??

In order to get to the Easy Cheese, or at least he assumed so because he had never bought a can of Easy Cheese in his whole glorious 25 years of life a true chef, Race had to walk past the Pharmacy section of the store. And, it just so happened that there was a guy sitting behind the counter at the Pharmacy. A very attractive guy. With a beard. In scrubs. oh my god the most questionable villain I've ever written.

Now, of course Race loved Albert and nothing would ever change that, but he could appreciate an attractive man when he saw one indeed he could. He thanked whatever deity was out there for the bit of man candy M AN C AN D Y that he had been granted and went in search of his Easy Cheese. oh just you wait racetrack 

“Mac and cheese, velveta cheese, microwaveable mac and cheese, where the fuck is the- oh thank fuck there we go.” my best friend and i spent much time looking at the mac and cheese in walgreens He pulled a can of Easy Cheese off of the shelf, tossing it once and catching it athletics before turning to go pay for the horrendous product, happy to finally be done with the whole ordeal when- B R E T T 

“Easy cheese? Really?”

Race whirled whirled? saph please get a better vocabulary around to see Mr. Man Candy hA himself leaning against the opposite shelf. “Wh- who?”

“Oh,” he dusted his hand off on his scrubbs oh my god Wait i wrote this cause one time when i was in a walgreens i Did see a hot dude working the pharmacy and decided to write a fic about it!! i remember texting mikey about this hjfhgjhg, “allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brett O’Hare. and mikey came up with that name And you, sir, are a disgrace to society. The very reason why so many Americans are in poor health in this day and age.” brett is an obnoxious millennial in case you can't tell

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The Easy Cheese!” Brett gestured wildly toward the can in Race’s hand. “Gosh do you even know how many preservatives are in that stuff? And all the cancers that it can cause? It’s terrible. We wouldn’t need free healthcare if people just stopped eating Easy Cheese!” apparently he's a millennial who's also a republican...?

Race had lived in New York City his whole life, and he had seen some pretty strange things subway pizza rat, but never had he seen a pharmacist in a Walgreens lecture anyone about the health benefits of Easy Cheese. easy cheese has no health benefits. and if you'd stopped annoying your boyfriend maybe you wouldn't be there

“So let me get this straight,” Race rubbed his head, trying to make sense of the situation. “You go around yelling at people about the ingredients in the things that they are purchasing?” yeah its nyc people love to have Opinions. and so do millennials

“Yeah.”

“You do realize that this is a Walgreens, right? Everything in here probably contains some kind of chemical.” man brett has his work cut out for him. New Yorkers never ceased to amaze him.

“All the more reason for me to inform them of their poor eating habits!” Brett pointed a finger at him. “And stop distracting me! You’re the one buying the freaking easy cheese here!” this is so weird why did i come up with this idea. what possessed me. 

“It’s not even for me!” Race shouted back. “It’s for my boyfriend’s fucking mac and cheese that he insisted on making for Thanksgiving even though everyone knows that mac and cheese is not a fucking Thanksgiving food and he’s only making it cause he knocked me off the goddamn rainbow road right before the fucking finish line!” someones salty Race was fuming but the time that he was done.

“Oh, man I’m so sorry, that's lousy.” but it won't stop brett...

Race looked surprised. Of all the things that he thought he would get out of this Walgreens experience, a therapy session was indeed not on the list. But neither had been hearing a lecture about the preservatives in Easy Cheese from a pharmacist. i have literally no explanation for this train wreck of a fic

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still buying Easy Cheese!” Between one second and the next, Brett had grabbed the can of Easy Cheese out of Race’s hand, wielding it like a brick ha percy jackson heroes of olympus anyone??. “Buy some fucking vegetables!” you can't buy vegetables in a walgreens brett

And with that, he struck Race over the head with the can of Easy Cheese.

Now, Race had definitely done some questionable things during his life Thats for sure. Once he had slept on the roof of his dorm building in January for a week because he lost his dorm key god why you can't even get on the roof of dorm buildings i know, I've tried, and another time he had been tricked into making an entire wedding cake using salt by Who??. However, being smacked over the head with a can of Easy Cheese by a health nut in scrubs on Thanksgiving put any and all other situations he had been in to shame in a walgreens don't forget. how did you forget that saph.  

He opened his eyes, suddenly blinded by the lights, and reached for his phone, muttering curses about man candy and vegetables as he should be. Squinting so he didn’t have to look at the screen, he somehow managed to dial Albert. no one d i a l s anyone saph. its the 21st century. i have like maybe 8 phone numbers memorized, half of them belong to my family the other half to people i knew in middle school.

“Racetrack Higgins, where is my Easy Cheese?”

Race pulled the phone away from his ear and winced at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “Um, it may have been used to give me a concussion by a health nut in scrubs?” for Once al isn't the one who gets injured in a walgreens. bet you didnt see That coming

Albert let out a loud sigh. “Ah man, did you run into Brett? That guy’s the worst.” hehe bet al used to date him

“Wait, you know him?”

“Race, I know every Walgreens employee in Manhattan, of course I know Brett.” There was the jangling of keys in the background. “I thought I told you to go to the one on 4th for this reason, ah, well. I’m on my way. I’ll take you to urgent care. Hang tight.” ofc al goes to urgent care. and everyone there knows him by a first name basis

Race’s head hurt too much to process what Albert had said except for the words ‘I’m on my way.’ “Okay,” he sighed. this was definitely one of the times i asked mikey about oddly specific concussion symptoms and then proceeded to forget everything he told me and do my own stuff

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” Race’s eyes focused on the dented can of Easy Cheese rolling on the floor he should still buy it. “And Al?”

“Yeah?”

“This is going to be one expensive can of Easy Cheese.” get it? cause race has to pay urgent care for his consultation? and they're also Very Very late to thanksgiving. cause al insists on finishing his mac. jack is not impressed. he eats all races pie.

anyway thats that hope you enjoyed

[demethinkstoomuch]

Deme Rates Villagers: Cubs

It’s Bears, but Smaller!

(Why didn’t I lump Bears and Cubs the way I did Cows and Bulls? Because there are a fair number of them, I think.)

I have also realized that, rather than a numerical rating, an emoticon rating might be better. I may do numbers from time to time, and so likely will not go back for the others. There will not be a scale, but a broad expression of my feelings. Or a mimic of their faces. Or a comment. Sometimes.

Disclaimer: Images are from the wiki, all good dogs, my ratings are mainly just there because “Deme gives her abstract thoughts on villagers” is hardly a catchy thing.

Aisle

Another Animal Forest E+ exclusive, another villager that looks like they came out of a Rare game like Banjo-Kazooie or Conker’s Bad Fur Day, even though this one doesn’t feature any exact equivolents. On the whole, I think the high contrast between the blue fur and the tuft of blond hair is a bad look, but the big blue eyes being sort of heavy-lidded and dour’s kind of cute.

Rating: :|

Barold

Barold is great. Like, I don’t entirely know what they’re going for with him -- he vaguely suggests either Fred Flinstone or an IT guy in my head -- but I love it either way.  (Fred Flinstone: 5 o’ clock shadow, shirt. IT Guy: Eeyes have kind of a glasses shape, beard).  He’s oozing with character, albeit a strange character, and do I detect little white pawsies? I do!

Rating: B’|

Bluebear

She’s a bear! She’s blue! She’s got a little white and a little pink, which gives her a nicely over-all pastel look. I like the darker blue (Fire Emblem Lord Blue, perhaps?) hair on her. She is just cute.

Rating: :)

Cheri

Another colorful bear cub, this one, pink! I like her, she’s sassy. Nice eyebrows that pair with her eyes to give her an impression of moxie that’s still quite cute. Hair is spiky, which adds to that. She’s peppy, which means that by peppy standards, she’s pretty edgy, in a weird, pink little bear way. Either way, she’s rather cute.

Rating: :]

Chester

Man, what do the Animal Crossing devs have against just letting pandas be cute? Chow, Chester... They’re both just sort of weird in a way that I find, funnily enough, more unsettling or dull than charming. Long pupils are not friend-shaped; if they leaned into the creepy, like with a goat, that would be one thing, but it rather spoils Chester. The sad-looking mouth could be cute, but it’s a bit big for that. Almost there, Chester, but just not.

Rating: :(

Cupcake

So, Cupcake is kind of Cheri, but with a half-hearted snootification effort via heavy-lidded eyeshadow eyes. Meh.

Rating: :[ (Like Cheri, but worse.)

Judy

A New Horizons new villager, and Judy is sure an aesthetic! The pastel gradients, the enormous sparkly eyes with the big shojou lashes, she just screams that she belongs in a gothic lolita girl’s arms during a photoshoot. Get this bear a lace-up dress. She could be an extra Hello Kitty collab character or something. I’m not actually a huge fan of Judy, but I cannot possibly deny that she is wonderfully what she is, and so while the agressively UWU quality to her isn’t for me, but I can’t help but applaud it. Dedication! Also, I like the subtler blush. It works.

Rating:  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

June

June is maaaybe my favorite cub, she’s just simple and pleasant-looking, without being a pastel screaming-fest, Her colorscheme and implied heavy fringe has a sort of... Like, it makes her big blue eyes and over-all cuteness read “girl next door,” sort of an ordinary, natural cute. And then you add the cute big hibiscus for a little pop that contrasts with her eyes. It’s just a real cute look. I’d probably, though, if I were to consider adopting her, check to make sure her eyes aren’t super weird when you look at them from other angles. It’s a bad fate to befall a villager.

Rating:  (◕‿◕✿) (Babe, hold my flower)

Kody

Hey, look, it’s one of my starter New Leaf villagers! Kody was the last of my first villagers to move out, too, sticking around for quite a while indeed. His departure left a hole that Clyde entered through via someone’s void, and I was not happy about that. As a result, I feel fonder of Kody than I would otherwise, since otherwise, he’s just, you know, a blue bear with a darker blue spot, like many animals that are just like that except not bears. It can be charming with the right face, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about his face. It’s just Kody. There he is. Old chum.

Rating:  ˅ u ˅ Ah, the memories...

Maple

Awwww, look at her! She’s just precious, very simple, with implied floofy bangs and bright little dot eyes. Even the pink sticker blush works better with her colors than I see in a lot of places. If June didn’t have her flowers, maybe I’d be here saying Maple’s my favorite. Maybe Maple is my favorite, I don’t know. She feels like angelfood cake, you, know? Light, pleasant, sweet...Though, admittedly, not especially flavorful.  She’s just cute as she is.

Rating:  ‘ ◕  w ◕ ‘

Marty

Ah, a Sanrio villager! ...Not one of the cuter ones, really. Looks sort of like a honey jar bear to me, which is, I suppose, something. His eyebrows have an unassuming quality, like he’s just a normal guy.

Rating: Normal Guy / Guys

Murphy

Remember everything I said about Kody? Yeah, still true about Murphy. His coloring is just sort of “spotted bear,” now in green. But! He does have big square eyebrows and big square eyes, which give him a bit of extra character, reliably and kinda sleepy. A good face.

Rating = w = (A good thing, I promise.)

Olive

Olive is a villager I’ve heard compared to Maple a lot -- it’s the shirt, I suppose, but really, more than that. Her color scheme is also pretty naturalistic and grounded, she has a cute bang outline. She doesn’t push the cute as hard, but that might make her more comfortable, less out-and-out cutesy to folks. That said, her eyes just have that quality I found with the birds, where something about them, paired with the surprised eyebrows, that feels kinda blank, like they reveal nothing. Staring. These eyes have seen too much. But she’s still pretty cute, won’t lie.

Rating: O-O

Pekoe

Aww, isn’t she cute? This screenshot makes her look more cream-colored than I’m used to thinking of her as, a dramatic bonus to her over-all level of adorable. Pekoe’s use of ears to suggest little covered hair-buns is pretty flavorful; it makes me wonder if they almost wanted to make a cute, very on-theme panda, and then decided “No, let’s just make her a white bear, good enough.”  Still, her face is cute, too, with a distinct set of eyes carrying through the same sort of design sensibilities as her hair and ears/buns, intensely stylized. It’s a nice look.

Rating: :)

Poko

What is with the shape of his head? You all see that, right, where his head is a totally different, longer, shape? Why? What does it mean? Is it meant to be like a mask? If it were meant to be a long mask, that’d be cool. I don’t think it is? It’s a mystery that he would need another appearance to solve, and that’s not happening.

Rating: ? :/

Poncho

Poncho’s cute. He’s basically just blue Olive, though the bangs are less fwooshy. Still, I find him a bit cuter than Olive, because the oval eyes sort of soften the effect of round on round on round that looks strange and staring; this is a bit more cartoony and cute. That’s about it from me. Pretty cute.

Rating: 0 ˅ 0

Pudge

Oh, Pudge looks so sad and alone! I want to hug and protect him! I’ve checked other screenshots, that’s just how Pudge’s face is, and it’s so precious! I do not get the freen on the ears and tip of tail, though. I do not understand why this is a thing, and I cannot say I approve of it. It’s kind of a distracting negative among this otherwise adorable design of a baby I just want to protect!

Rating: (> ‘ . ’)> Come here and let me hug you!

Stitches

OK, so, maybe if it’s not June or Maple, maybe Stitches is best cub. Certainly, he’s the most thematically strong, with this adorable patchwork teddybear design! His eyes evoke a really cute version of his name, little stitches. Just adorable and aesthetically on-point and I’m really happy to see him. I could see him with a place on my island, if I only didn’t have too many villagers I could see with a place.

Rating :D or, alternatively, XwX just for him.

Tammy

Oh, it’s almost all the things I dislike in a villager design. Random colors without real cohesion or purpose, just “well, this is a colorful animal” that clash with other randomly-selected colors (orange blush, deep rose eyeshadow, pale pink inner ears, white muzzle/paws, brown bangs) with eyeshadowed eyes to say “Hey this is a snooty” without going all-in for glamor-comedy? I think we’ve hit bingo. Funnily enough, I think this might be my least-favorite cub.

Rating: :(

Vladimir

Vladimir is ugly with dedication. Vladimir is ugly with a passion. Vladimir is ugly with soul and purpose. Buck teeth and that flatly furrowed, thin, no-brow-unibrow! Those awful bangs! Truly, Vladimir is an artist’s study in ugly-cute. I can’t say that it works to vaunt him into a villager I’d really love to have around, but I can profoundly respect him.

Rating:    ಠ ῳ ಠ

The cubs are good, in conclusion. A good mix of aesthetics, and at least 3 I rather like, which is a good number. Also, I got to whip out some Japanese emoticons, and isn’t that important?