#omnipotent-jellies

[71kedi-yip]

I started writing a love letter about Jellie as propaganda (not that hard, I love that cat and had introduced her as my favourite cat to my MOM) then I had to take an exam and fell asleep for 13 hours. When I came back this all had happened so I went back to my draft, this time trying to write the propaganda but heatedly and realized I can't write when I am angry and so I just blocked op and that was kinda funny cause now my blocked list includes pornbots, terfs, people whom post millitary bs and one (1) Jellie hater.

The parts from the love letter I wrote before I got angry:

I am sure anglerfish, whomever they are, has given happiness to their owners and a lot of people through their meme. But you need to understand Jellie is something else.

She is not just the minecraft cat, she has been the companion of one of the kindest and alivest men I have ever met for seventeen and a half years.

Since he streams, we the viewers would hear a small meow from the back and hear a kind and joking "one moment Jellie", we would get photos of her in her basket, we would get her napping on the router, snuggled into her favourite blanket... And she never seemed her age, can you look at this cat and go, oh she is 15 (don't know when exactly the photo was taken).

She was a part of his channel, she was the mascot of scarland and the mayoral campaign and the evil overruler and-

Then she got added to minecraft, and then, it became something else. Now she was with all of us. You would come back to your base and jellie would be in in front of the door, where you sat her before leaving and she woul do a meow and you would remember your own cat from the childhood. You would be tired and sad from a long day, log on and there would be Jellie and you would talk to her the same way one talks to a being you know won't judge you. And I think it was a bit more then just a game cat because you knew she was a real cat. It might be just me , but in a weird parasocial way, it felt like Jellie was my companion as well.

Look I understand how a big fandom coming and doing a sweep of your favourite feels, that's how I feel with kpop and honestly dsmp. But you need to understand Jellie is something beyond just the minecraft cat for a lot of people.

For a lot of us, she is a companion,

Just a heads up, @/catoftheyeartournament called jellie a "lame ass youtube cat" that "had to go and die so now of course mcyt fans just have to vote for her", which in their apology is phrased like "making a joke about one of the cats in the poll that was crass and tasteless". I think this apology greatly undermines what they actually did, and while I'm sure this person is already blocked by half the gtws community I just wanted to let everyone know they're kind of a jerk. Not a callout post, do what you will with this information. Don't go and harrass them, if you're mad at them just block or perhaps kung pow penis

[ocean-sunfish-hater]

Parasitoidism and Deep Sea Mechs

ID: A white/ transluscent crustacean inside of a barrel-like jelly structure that is transparent. They are set against a black background.

This shrimp-like creature is a type of deep sea amphipod called Phronima, referred affectionately by some as a barrel bug. Look! It's got a little house for itself! How did it get there? Why is it doing that? Oh god, what does this have to do with the title of this post?

Parasitoidism is an extreme form of parasitism where the host will eventually die. This is different from the other types of parasitism where there may be detriments to the host, but they rarely die as a direct result of the parasitism. Think of a flea - they might suck their host's blood and they may cause damage to it, but one flea will never suck so much blood as to kill the host (of course, it may later die of a disease transmitted by the flea). For a parasite killing the host isn't the best strategy, because then you are essentially destroying your home, your restaurant and your social life all at the same time.

ID: An orange parasitoid wasp sits on top of a bristly caterpillar, with its sting buried inside its victim. They are both sat on a leaf, and the picture is taken close up so that the finer veins of the leaf are visible.

Parasitoidism, on the other hand, eventually results in the death of the host due to the extreme amount of resources taken from it. Most famously, parasitoid wasps lay eggs inside a paralysed host, keeping it alive long enough for its offspring to hatch and consume it. Some larvae even eat non-essential organs first to keep their hosts alive for as long as possible as they grow. Apparently Charles Darwin thought this was so fucked up he questioned whether his God was truly omnipotent or benevolent if such a creature existed.

ID: A picture of a sea salp, a type of marine invertebrate. It has a transparent, jelly-like body that is somewhat tube shaped. Inside the body are two major structures: an orange, spherical mass to the right hand end, and an opaque, white rod-like structure that runs along the body (right to left in the picture). It is set against a dark background.

Anyway, that jelly-like structure that the Phronima is sitting in, it's not something that it made itself through some bodily secretion or scavenging. It's actually the hollowed-out body of an animal called a salp, which is a type of tunicate (these can sometimes form massive colonies, hopefully have a post coming about that at some point).

The Phronima eats the inside of the salp then climbs inside the remaining tunic, in which it makes its home and lays its eggs. It then proceeds to pilot the carcass around like a fucking mech, steering it through the deep sea. Moving its new mobile home round like this allows fresh water and food to flow in through the front, nourishing the happy new homeowner and eventually its larvae once they hatch.

Of course, at this point the salp is likely dead and has been for a while, which is what makes this parasitoidism.

Hope you enjoyed! Have excellent nightmares.

[k-asternix]

The expansive, seemingly infinite crater of the perimeter makes for some nice eye candy, Grian thinks.

He's sure Doc would object to that characterisation. That is, if Doc were present and able to read Grian's thoughts. But for now at least, the buttercup camp is occupied only by its rightful owners: Grian, Mumbo and Scar. The three of them are sitting on a soft pastel picnic blanket. Grian is in the middle, with his wings wrapped comfortably around the two other men.

It's a rare peaceful moment between the trio. He doesn't mean to disturb that peace but the mental image of a god-like, omnipotent, omnipresent Docm77 is too powerful not to provoke some kind of reaction.

He giggles and his attempts to stifle that giggling only serve to worsen the situation: pretty soon he's full on laughing and there's nothing he can do to stop himself.

To his left, Scar groans "Griaaan. I was nearly about to fall asleep and you just woke me up! What's so funny, huh mister?"

Grian rolls his eyes at Scars dramatics, not intending to give an answer but then Mumbo pipes up "Yes. I'm also curious to know what's got you in hysterics."

"Well… I was just thinkin'.... wouldn't it be funny if Doc was like… an all seeing mind reader?"

"Funny?!?" Scar shouts "Grian, that's terrifying!"

"Hey, in my defense it isn't real! Doc can't actually read anyone's mind."

"I mean…mind reader Doc could be real." Mumbo hums.

"What do you mean he could be real?!? Oh, if you two keep up with all this crazy talk I'll never get to sleep!"

"It's not crazy talk." Mumbo says "Think about it: Grumbot prime came from a different universe, what if that means there's a whole multiverse out there? It wouldn't be so much of a stretch to say that Doc could be a mind reader in at least one of them."

"Mumbo, that's horrible." Scar whines, burying his face in Grian's feathers.

"I don't think it's horrible. If Mumbo is right and there is a whole multiverse that means there's a universe where there's…I don't know…infante theme parks?"

"Or a world of infinite Jellies! That would be so cute! Okay, maybe the multiverse isn't so bad. Wait! Do you think there's a world where we're pirates?"

"You were a pirate," Mumbo points out "back in season six."

"I had a pirate base. But I wasn't living the pirate life. I didn't do enough pillaging and plundering."

Now that's a scary thought. Scar, sailing the seven seas and robbing anyone and everyone he comes into contact with—Grian has no doubt that pirate Scar would be a force to be reckoned with. He can imagine it clearly.

"Maybe there is a world where you're a pirate." Grian muses.

"Oh I don't doubt it! Say, Grian, Mumbo, what would your ideal universes look like?"

Mumbo puts his hand to his chin "I'm not sure. Mine would probably be something silly. Like a world where the rules of gravity are mailable or where there's more redstone parts to play with or where I have crazy unrealistic superpowers."

"Mumbo, in my eyes your redstone making abilities are a superpower."Mumbo laughs, flushing red at the compliment. "I'm not sure if it's a superpower—" he turns to Grian "Err—what about you? What's your ideal universe?"

Grian looks up towards the sky as he ponders the question. He tries to imagine something better than what he has now but his mind draws a blank.

Really, he has everything he could need; seemingly endless building supplies, time and space to work on his various projects, the freedom to do what he'd like, friends who love him and are willing to put up with his constant pranks. Some nice eye candy.

Grian shifts his gaze back to Scar and Mumbo.

"You know, I think I'm living in it."

[jellyfshing]

C3彡 ethereal , godly jellyfish id pack !!

☆~{ for anon }~☆

C3彡 names :

ethy(ie) , angel , halo , blanche , evangeline , seraphim , angelina , angelica , dove , moon , eve , divinity , ophelia , angeli , dentelle , lagoona , aurita , floatesse , scyph , astraea , athena , heaven , aether , cosmo , cosima

C3彡 pronouns :

jelly jellys , jelly jellyfish , cherub cherubs , angel angels , deity deities , sheep sheeps , lamb lambs , choir choirs , moon moons , dream dreams , wing wings , cloud clouds , divine divines , feather feathers , pure pures , light lights , sacred sacreds , fluff fluffs , afterlife afterlifes , high highness , regal regals , holy holys

C3彡 titles :

the god – like jelly(fish) , the voice of god , [prn] who floats , the angelic one , [prn] who glows , the ethereal jellyfish , jellyfish from the heavens , the jelly who ( watches / knows / loves ) all , the immortal one , the ( omniscient / omnipotent / omnipresent ) jelly

C3彡 genders :

etherealbeing / thing , etherealgender

C3彡 sorry for the lack of genders but theres more jellyfish themed ones over here -> :3

[dre4ml4nd-st4rlight]

Serene Jellymer Architect Alter for @theworldtree01 - I'm ngl Im probs gonna come back to this and add more transids when I can find some because it feels e m p t y.

**｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆

「 ✦ Base ID ‘ s ✦ 」**

╰┈➤ names : Selene , Marina , Muir , Aurelia , Aurita , Pearla , Nereus

╰┈➤ ****Pronouns : sea/hers , she/hers , he/him , they/them , xe/xem , fin/fins , Ae/are , it/its , shell/shells , nie/neirs , sea/seas , dream/dreams

╰┈➤ Titles : ⌞ title of royal status I.e queen/king, prince/princess, duke/duchess ⌝ of the Deep , The Creator , ⌞ prn ⌝ who carves the world and fate , Maker of the Worlds Designs , The Creator of Sea , Arbiter of Land and Sea

╰┈➤ Genders : aquaegender , mermaidgender , genderfluid , seagender , starwashic , mermaidic , sirekenic , sirenic , jelliestaric , creauterelle

╰┈➤ Orientations : abroromantic , acespec , femme-lean , paraphilias : aquaphilia , objectum ( castles , furniture , jewelry , gems and minerals ) , theophilia + autotheophilia

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ other id ‘ s ๋࣭⭑ ꩜ ˎˊ˗

☾ Cis - Aquatic Species : Mer-jelly + Moon Jellyfish ( Aurelia Aurita ) + Mermaid + siren , white + pearlescent eyes , long hair , Builder , architect , ruler - creative , proper , graceful , adaptable , serene , empathetic , loyal , mystical , adventurous , intuative , can speak to aquatic animals , dreamy , communicative , curious , understanding , critical thinker , worldly , wise , partly apathetic

⟡ Trans - deity (creator deity) , real world person , occupation : architect + builder + royalty / leader + interior designer , maturity (less) , trans gardener , ghost like / spirit , drifter , teleporter , omnipotent , aesthetic ; fruitiger aero , perfectionist , ocd , sea-shapeshifter ,

ᯓ★ 「 ✦ Roles + Alter Functions ✦ 」. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

architect , admin ; innerworld manager , Groundskeeper , Gardentender , communicator , dream holder + assistant dream gatekeeper , artisan

Serene drifts through different layers + spaces in the headspace and alters them to their liking. She uses water to help create or alter headspace- places ( new or existing ) they are crafting tend to be flattened and flooded with water, fins skies blank grey. Soon a thin layer of water settles on the ground that mirrors the sky clearly. Xe use this water to help them form new objects and spaces. Ae have access to the bodies dreams (daydreams + sleep dreams), and can act as a temp gatekeeper of dreams when using a dream in the creation process. While in the process of altering / creating a new world , Fin has the ability to form headmates / fragments / walk-ins specifically to preform the task of Groundskeeper or Gardentender while he is not around. These created fragments are solely tied to those headspaces, and typically cannot leave.

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ Interest and misc details ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Favorite Colors : White , Light blue , light pink , seafoam , beige , light green , light purple

Sea’s voice is very light and soft, feminine with an eerie aura. When shell speaks, one can hear the faint sound of bubbled popping and water rushing. It has a soft echo to it, faint. When angered, this echo gets louder, and will repeat the words that he puts emphasis on; this is sometimes accompanied by a sort of staticy noise. When saddened or scared, the rushing of water and bubbles gets louder and more violent.

Hobbies + Interest : swimming , creating , sea creatures , beachcombing , exploring caves , sunbathing , ocean sounds , sailing , coral reefs , marine biology , tide pools , mythology , starfish , pearls , moonlight nights , starry nights , building / architecture / interior design ( Ae likes to create floor plans or draw small scenes, in headspace and out. In headspace xe have a bit more freedom as sea can just create the buildings )

Aurita has a dream in life to create their ‘ultimate dream land’ in whatever way they can. He wants to see xier creations come to fruition in the real world as well, to spread their creations and lands for all to see.

Nereus gets along well with the other headmates- sea enjoys taking what little requests they have and fulfilling them in a new room.

Sea has a lot of anxiety when building worlds. They are a person who needs it to be completely perfect and finished before anyone can see it. He gets extremely self conscious if someone watches them work, and tend to work while undercover. Fin has a habit of not giving their created fragments consciousness until after the space they are completely done with the world. They also like to leave little Easter eggs of other alters / places in headspace for other alters to find. Oftentimes sea leaves herself little hidden passageways + tools they can use to monitor certain headspaces. They have a sort of omnipotent control over water in headspace, and they leave pools of water around headspace for communication- around their created fragments, near alters that struggle to communicate, nearby front, etc .

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

── .✦ Photos + Aesthetic hoard

face claim

aesthetic hoard

[seradyn]

A Dream Come True (Chp. 11)

Finally, after 6 months

Chapter 11/35: A Daring Dance For Two

Date time with our daemon man. Get ready for long conversations and some backstory for our reader 😌

Extra long to make up for the back to back hiatuses >.<

Link to work Masterlist

Word Count: 11,052

TW: Childhood trauma

Tags: @savage-rhi @blossom-adventures @ticklemycucumber

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged in updates

———————————————————————

The library looked dark, decrepit when it was closed. There was no light coming from the overhead windows, no welcoming gust of warm air to greet you. Closing was one of your least favorite parts of the job, but it was a necessity. You tugged on the front door’s handles experimentally and, of course, the lock held without much effort. Satisfied, you dropped the keys into your bag, turning your back to the old, withered building.

You shivered into your coat, the kiss of winter’s breath turning the tip of your nose red. The temperature was only continuing to drop, much to your dismay. The frosty wind sunk deeply into your clothes, cutting through them like jelly. The pinpricks on your skin had you rushing to find warmth someplace else.

“Ah, there she is. And here I thought you’d keep me waiting.”

You paused, smiling at the teasing voice. You’d almost forgotten. Turning, you found the owner a short distance away.

Ardyn was leaning against one of the great pillars holding up the awning, head tilted down and arms crossed, one leg laced over the other. You could see he still wore that smug, sly expression, directed at the ground with lidded eyes, as if it had been bold enough to comment on the soles of his boots.

You shook your head at him. “I’m sorry,” you said, wondering how long he’d been standing there. “They don’t like to let me off easy.”

He looked up then, his calculating, omnipotent eyes drinking in your form. They, too, held that smirk just as well as his lips.

“I only jest,” he reassured. He pushed off from the pillar, beckoning you after him with a wave of his hand. “Come, my dear. I’ve parked just around the corner.”

You fell into step at his side, a brisk pace to keep up with his longer strides. You stole a breath of the sweet tinge of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and cinnamon. You wondered how much it cost; probably more than your biweekly paycheck.

“So, where are we going?” You asked, keeping up as he took a sharp left down the block, passing the startled faces of the sparse citizenry, who gave a wide berth in their chancellor’s wake.

“Ah, ah,” Ardyn tutted. “That would spoil the surprise.”

“Oh, a surprise?” You asked in wonder, smiling at the thought. You were already curious about what he had in store for you, but now you were even more so.

Ardyn returned your excitement with a grin of his own. “I think you’ll find it quite to your liking.”

“Is that so?” You said playfully, throwing him one of your own smirks.

“Consider it a guarantee,” he purred, grinning in a way that told you his confidence was not merely for show. He took the lead as you came up on a row of neatly parked cars at the end of the street.

You had to swallow a giggle when you saw which car he gravitated to, swinging open the passenger door for you. It certainly suited its owner, just as ardent as he was. A convertible colored dark maroon, much like Ardyn’s hair, with a white race stripe down the middle. A moogle pom pom had been stuck on the antenna, making the vehicle look almost comically whimsical. The top was down, revealing wine colored upholstery to match the paint job.

“Your chariot, my dear,” he hummed as you approached his car.

“Ever the gentleman,” you replied, settling into the red leather seat, the door slamming closed behind you. You paused, closing your eyes in a deep, silent sigh while his scent swallowed you whole, taking you captive with near overwhelming sweetness. Another wave of it washed over you as Ardyn took his place in the driver's seat, the engine humming to life not long after. Soon, you’d merged into traffic, and the library disappeared into the rear view mirror.

A comfortable silence filled the car, the wind whipping through your hair as you were enraptured by the sights that passed you by in a blur, one of restless crowds and neon signs. Each one an invitation, a trap laid simply, only willing to release those from their clutches whose purses had been emptied. You hadn’t the gil to entertain those desires, so you hadn’t seen much of Gralea’s famed nightlife, save for the trip you’d recently taken in its shadows. Even that had been different; most of it had died down by then. Now, you had a chance to experience it in its purest form, with someone who was undoubtedly versed in its culture. It almost felt like going to another country.

Meanwhile, Ardyn was humming away beside you, carefree as he drove you to his ‘surprise’. You smiled even wider when you recognized it as the song associated with the bright yellow birds you adored. You hadn’t taken Ardyn as a chocobo person, but the thought had you biting your tongue to stop yourself from giggling. This was the man you were afraid of not three days ago?

Perhaps there was hope for you yet.

Soon enough, it seemed Ardyn got bored of silence, and decided to fill it with his own voice instead.

“So, tell me,” He began, the words beckoning your attention away from the view. “How long have you been looking after Gralea’s biggest library?”

“Oh, only a few years,” you said, surprised by his interest. “Got recruited right out of college, and I’ve been there since. This’ll be my fourth year working there.”

“Truly? It seems I’ve been missing out, locked in my ivory tower. Tragic, really.”

You let out a nervous chuckle, looking back out the lowered window so he couldn’t see you blushing. “I’m sure I’m no better than the last one. Besides, we can’t change the past,” you said honestly. “There’s no use in worrying about it.”

“Indeed we can’t,” Ardyn said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “We are simply forced to live with the consequences.”

You looked back at him after hearing the last word, the creeping darkness that had seeped into it just below the surface. The corner of his mouth twitched, his smile becoming strained as his grip around the wheel tightened. Though it wasn’t long before he remembered to compose himself, those brief emotions tucked away, for now.

Even though he didn’t say it, you knew you’d struck some kind of nerve. A stab of guilt creeped into your heart; you hadn’t meant to upset him. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, he interrupted you, smirking as the car slowed.

“Ah, here we are,” Ardyn murmured, pulling his car in front of a building that stretched far into the sky. Deciding to let the previous exchange go, you gazed up at it as the engine died, wondering how many floors there were. A million, you thought in hyperbole, unclasping your seatbelt as Ardyn departed from his vehicle. Before you could even reach for the handle, he was there, opening the door for you and holding out his hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you said as you placed your hand in his, his fingers curling delicately around your own. He gracefully pulled you onto the sidewalk, looking down at you with fond, half lidded eyes, your door falling closed behind you with a thud.

“Of course, my dearest,” he cooed, releasing your hand and offering up his arm in its place. You looked between him and it for a moment, before you snickered at his gentlemanly nature. You wrapped your hands around his strong forearm, and he began to lead you towards the looming skyscraper.

Between you and said building, a sizable crowd was loitering, the atmosphere filled with an energetic buzz that was almost suffocating. The street was awash with their laughter and conversations, made more boisterous as some teased drunkenness, booze flowing freely from somewhere unseen.

Not your type of people, if you were being honest, but usually you weren’t one to let such things bother you.

Usually.

It was as you got closer you realized how much different you were to these people. Not just in mannerism; it was obvious in something as simple as your state of dress. You weren’t someone who was big on expensive designer products, but even you could name some of the brands their garments oozed. Not only that, but there seemed to be only two options among them when it came to outfits; freshly pressed suits, or flowing, iridescent gowns. There was no in between, not a hint of anything casual to be found.

And you’d just come from work. You were in street clothes.

Being led towards the gathering by the imperial chancellor no less.

Your arrival hasn’t gone unnoticed, either. It didn’t surprise you that the chancellor’s presence was one to turn heads, but that fact was slightly more mortifying when you were practically hanging off him. Your eyes flicked from face to face, watching the raised eyebrows, the bewildered stares when they saw Ardyn’s company, no doubt questioning his choice of companionship. You wondered how truely low their opinion was of you, when they didn’t even have to pause their conversations to pass silent judgment.

You huddled closer to Ardyn, trying to find some semblance of comfort in his presence, even while he seemed none the wiser to their scrutiny.

“Are you…sure this is okay?” You asked meekly, staring out at the high class gathering around you. You wondered if it would tarnish his reputation, being seen with someone so much lower than him, even if he didn’t believe that himself. Surely word would get out he’d been seen with someone like you.

Ardyn, whom you would’ve considered observant before, seemed completely oblivious to the weird looks the two of you were getting. He rather appeared quite jovial, smirking at nothing in particular, like he’d been welcomed with a standing ovation.

“Hmm?” He hummed happily, an eyebrow going up at your question. “Is there a problem, my dear?”

“N-no, it’s just - ” you looked at the ground in shame, fearing your woe sounded juvenile. Your social anxiety was bad enough with Ardyn alone, but in crowds, being the center of attention made you want to jump out of your own skin. You just hoped you weren’t embarrassing him. “I’m not exactly…well dressed for the occasion.”

Ardyn hummed again, looking out at the gathering as if just now noticing them. Something darkened his features, sinister and wicked, as he continued to smile while locking eyes with the boldest of the bunch. A silent challenge for them to dare question whose company he chose to share.

The nobles all quickly looked away, smart enough to fear the chancellor’s wrath.

“Should there be any…complaints,” his lips curled even higher, making him almost look malicious. “I shall deal with them personally.”

You had no idea what he meant by that, but you heard the seriousness in his voice. He wasn’t bluffing. Knowing he was willing to stand up for you, you eased out a tense breath, nodding in thanks.

The people standing close to the glass double doors scurried away as you reached the building, Ardyn opening them so you could both enter. Your muscles relaxed when you were finally out from under the noble’s unabashed prying eyes.

Which didn’t last long, unfortunately. The inside wasn’t much different from the outside. A dark restaurant laid out before you, undoubtedly where the outside patrons had gotten their drinks. Standing tables littered the room, there wasn’t a chair in sight. It reminded you of the cocktail parties you’d seen on TV.

You’d never actually been to one of those.

The bar was taking up the entirety of the left wall. Bottles of all different colors and shapes decorated it, the glass reflecting the orange glow of the dim ceiling lamps. They were completely swamped by the looks of it, there weren’t any open stools. To make it worse for the staff, the people in here matched the ones outside; dressed nicely, and making enough noise to drown out the decades-old music that was playing overhead. You watched the wait staff as they darted around skillfully, only stopping to place drinks or small plates of food down before whisking away to the next table.

You hoped they got good tips.

You figured this restaurant was the reason Ardyn brought you here, but he didn’t even flinch as he led you past it all, heading for an elevator in the very back you hadn’t seen before. Without a word, he pressed the ‘up’ button, grinning at the slight look of confusion on your face.

The elevator slid open with a cheerful ding, and Ardyn ushered you on. It was empty, much to your relief, meaning you wouldn’t be pressed up against him. He pushed a button for a high floor, something in the 60’s, ascending as soon as the door closed again.

Awkward silences were becoming a common thing between the two of you, and the slow, jazzy elevator music only made it worse. Your fingers instinctively flexed around Ardyn’s arm, your breathing sounded deafening in your ears as anxiety began to spin its web around your heart. You should’ve been excited, but what had transpired outside left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn’t help feeling you didn’t belong. You could only imagine the place Ardyn was taking you had the same kind of clientele, their judgeful eyes seeing you as an easy target. An entire meal feeling like an insect under a microscope sounded miserable.

Something brushed over the top of your knuckles, pulling you back to reality. Looking down, you watched as Ardyn rested his free hand atop your own, giving your fingers a light squeeze of reassurance.

“You needn’t be so nervous,” he said quietly. Soothingly. “You’ve nothing to prove to me.”

You were silent for a moment, the gentleness in his voice pulling your gaze upward. He was smiling at you. Softly, sweetly…like he cared.

“All I ask is that you be yourself.”

Heh. Yourself.

When was the last time you were yourself?

Not since you were little, you realized. And what a sad thought that was.

Did you even know who you really were anymore?

Not really. It had been beaten out of you long ago. Your parents used it as an excuse to abuse you, your friends an excuse to exclude you. You’d decided it was better to keep it under lock and key, keep it hidden and guarded. Even someone as close to you as Satus could only say he saw part of it. It’d been years, but those wounds were still red and swollen.

In its place, you became an expert at crafting masks. If one friend group wanted you to act one way, you could, and another for a different group. If your parents expected you to be their pauper princess, then you could be so, to an extent. If your best friend said something you didn’t agree with, you found it hard to voice a dispute.

The poisonous flower of rejection had festered for years, building a cage of weaving roots around what you might call yourself.

And some part of you didn’t think you were wholly undeserving of those lashes.

You blinked, the memories causing your eyes to go misty. You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering how long you’d been struggling with Ardyn’s statement. He was still waiting. Patiently, his gentle smile never left his face as he waited for an answer. His tolerance was surprising.

Perhaps…Ardyn was different. Maybe his request didn’t come with concealed expectations.

That was enough to give you a sliver of hope.

“…Okay,” you said, meeting his eyes. “I’ll…try.”

Arden nodded approvingly, giving your hand another squeeze. “That’s all I can ask.”

The rest of the elevator ride was in silence, both of you watching the glowing red numbers above the door count up.

While you hoped you weren’t getting too ahead of yourself…

The elevator dinged again, announcing that you'd arrived, the numbers now reading 64. The doors slid open, Ardyn stepping out with you as soon as they finished.

It was much brighter up here, which you appreciated. Ornate chandeliers dangled from a high ceiling, reflecting off the marble tiles and glass windows. The center of the room had been cut away, allowing you to see down into the lower floors between bars of railing. As you got closer to the edge, you could make out people scurrying around like little worker bees.

Your destination appeared to be along the far wall though, if the long line of people was any indication. Indeed, Ardyn leisurely steered you in that direction, allowing you to take in your surroundings. It was another dimly lit restaurant by the looks of it, although you couldn’t see far inside through the crowd. You just hoped you’d have some illusion of privacy while you dined.

Ardyn breezed past the line, which surprised you at first, before you remembered exactly who you were with. No one would dare make the imperial chancellor wait in a line, of all things. Commoner as you were, it felt quite strange to you, wrong somehow, but you knew it wasn’t your place to say anything. Best to just follow in Ardyn’s lead.

At the threshold, you were finally able to spot a sign displaying the restaurant’s name. When you read it, a small gasp parted your lips.

La Compañera. One of the best, and most expensive restaurants in all of Gralea. Their reservation list was full months in advance, from what you’d heard, and their meals could cost you a week's worth of work. The kind of place everyone knew of, talked about, but few could say they’d ever been. You’d given up on going there yourself, not on a librarian’s salary at least.

This was where Ardyn meant to take you?

You looked up at him with wondrous eyes. He, on the other hand, looked more smug than you’d ever seen him, like the whole of Eos was his to command. He had every right to be, too. It was no wonder he was so confident you’d like his choice for the evening.

“You should learn not to doubt me, dearest,” he said, basking in your amazement. He was enjoying your reaction a great deal.

“I thought you could only get in with a reservation,” you breathed, looking around with astonishment. The place was positively buzzing, a chorus of forks hitting plates and too many conversations to count. As you neared the hostess stand, you could even see a part of the kitchen off to your left, and you were able to hear the sizzling of meat, of pasta turning in a frothy boil. Delicious smelling vapors wafting from its steel appliances, making your mouth water in anticipation.

“Indeed,” Ardyn said cheerfully. “Though you’ll find few are bold enough to enforce such rules in my presence.”

You hummed at that, not doubting it, but wondering how that was going to work out. The restaurant only had so many tables, and if they were all full, him being chancellor wouldn’t mean much.

Your questions were soon answered, as you both stood before the hostess. She was dressed in a suit; white button up with black khakis, hair tied back as she scribbled down the names of arriving parties. You both waited for a moment, you assumed for her to acknowledge you, but instead another woman stepped before you, wearing the same uniform.

“Chancellor Izunia!” She chirped, smiling brightly at him. “It is an honor to serve His Excellency, as always.” She bowed low and deep, hand held daintily over her heart.

“The honor is all mine, Charlette,” Ardyn preened. With a flourishing wave of his hand, he gave his own short bow, which you were quick to copy. Although not before you shot him a questioning look; he knew their names?

“I was hoping to make use of our little arrangement,” he went on, straightening. “I could think of no better place, especially since I am want to entertain a special guest.”

He smirked down at you out of the corner of his eye. You looked away, trying to hide the creeping crimson that invaded your features.

“Of course, Chancellor,” the woman - Charlette - said. Reaching around her coworker, she grabbed two menus from the stand before making her way back into the depths of the restaurant, expecting you to follow. She led you through a wide eating area, dotted with tables dressed in white linens, flickering candles set in the center of each one. The place was huge, and you lost count of how many twists and turns it took to finally reach your table. It wasn’t just any either, tucked into a secluded corner, the angle perfect to keep prying eyes out. The wall it was pushed up against was made entirely of glass, allowing a grand, near endless view of the sprawling metropolis below. Your breath caught in your throat, admiring the sea of speckled lights, like stars swimming in benevolent waters.

You weren’t given much time to admire it though, Ardyn slipping from your grasp to take his seat, forcing you to do the same. The seats were heavy - expensive, you corrected - the wood polished and dark as you settled into it. Your hostess turned waitress placed the menus in front of you, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the candles sprung to life with gentle orange flames. She tucked her lighter into a pocket as she set another small sheet of paper down, the drink menu, you assumed. With that, she was gone, disappearing into the throng of suited staff and pampered guests.

While you unfurled the neatly folded napkin and laid it across your lap, you eyed the silverware dubiously. It seemed each set came with two of each utensil, though a glance at Ardyn’s side of the table told you that was intentional. One bigger, and more square, the other dainty and curved. You may have pondered them longer, had your stomach not given a gentle roll, reminding you you hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

“If you’ll indulge me…” Ardyn said softly, beckoning your eyes upward. He sat with his chin resting on laced fingers, like he was making a decision of utmost importance. “It would be criminal to not let you sample some of their finest Cabernet Sauvignon. A rare find these days; the grapes are grown in Lucis.” Ardyn smirked, leaning back in his chair to lounge as if it were a throne.

You concealed your confusion as best you could. You had no idea what he just said, but he mentioned grapes, so you figured it was wine of some sort.

You’d hoped to avoid this, but you knew it was inevitable. Unfortunately, you’d never really come on to alcohol like most people. In fact, you hated the stuff, grimaced every time its foul taste met your lips. While your peers had been off making fake IDs and clubbing, you were sipping milk teas and reading books on the couch. Thinking back on it, it was really no wonder you weren’t invited to parties.

Of course, you couldn’t tell Ardyn that. It was silly, childish. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself by revealing you couldn’t handle your liquor. As much as it pained you to almost immediately break your promise to him, you couldn’t find the strength to be honest.

Instead, you smiled, meeting his honied eyes. “I’d be delighted,” you said sweetly.

Ardyn’s smirk grew at that. “Splendid. I’ll have them fetch us a bottle when they return.”

“Sounds good,” you said, eyeing the menu. Food seemed much more appealing at the moment. Your stomach gurgled its agreement.

The menu wasn’t big. That was a mark of its quality though, each dish more extravagant than the last. You only recognized a handful of them, but for those you did, you knew they were ones that required a careful hand, and hours of prep work. Things most people didn’t dare trying to make at home, lest they spend all day laboring over a ruined meal.

You’d been worried the place would be too high class to have anything you’d like, picky eater as you were, but it seemed you were in luck. One of their specials was something you’d had before, and it was one of your favorites. Your mother made it when your older sister got her doctorate. The dish had taken the entire day to prepare, but when you all sat down and took a bite, it was more than worth it. You hadn’t had it since then, and the thought of tasting it again brought a small smile to your face. The memory of its flavor ghosted across your tongue excitedly.

Having made your choice, and noticing Ardyn was still nose deep in one of the menus, you gazed out at the dining area, admiring the decor. The place was certainly designed with your scenario in mind, and you could see why. The place was dark, hushed, allowing a sense of seclusion for its diners. Candles and dim lights gave it a cozy feel, helped by the warmth of a fire crackling in a brick fireplace as its centerpiece. The restaurant’s popularity was clear; not a single table was left yearning for guests. Even the bar, which you’d passed on the way to your seat, had someone perched on each stool.

“Oh, I forgot to ask,” you said suddenly. “How did you manage to get this table? I know you’re the chancellor and all, but the place is always fully booked from what I’ve heard.”

Ardyn lowered his menu, meeting your eyes while chuckling lightly. “Oh, it is, though we have come to a certain agreement. I’ve prevailed upon our dear Emperor to accept his catering only from specific establishments. You’ll find not even the smallest of His Radiance’s galas are absent of such luxuries. In exchange, they’ve agreed to always save a table in my name, should I ever choose to stop by. A…mutually beneficial relationship.”

You paused to stare at him for a moment, his words digesting, before you couldn’t stop a light laugh from tickling up your throat. He was even cagier than you’d thought.

“Clever,” you complimented. It seemed he had the whole of Gralea wrapped around his fingers.

Ardyn positively beamed. “I have my moments.”

You both shared a laugh at that. Quite the understatement, you both knew.

As your snickers began to die down, your waitress returned, cradling a fancy, vase-like bottle filled with clear water, dropping it off as she asked for your orders. Ardyn got his special wine you couldn’t pronounce, along with one of the meals you didn’t recognize, and Charlette complimented his choice with a forced sweetness. It made you cringe a little, seeing her lick his boots as much as possible before she asked what you wanted. Such was one of the downsides of being with someone so high in Niflheim’s pecking order.

Once she was gone, you turned back to each other, Ardyn smiling brightly at your attention. It was so boyishly innocent, you couldn’t help returning it, even when you felt heat creeping up your neck. Oh, he was cute.

“I’d like to get to know you better, if you’ll humor me,” he said, leaning back in his seat, sinking into its cushions, his eyes partially lidded.

You nodded your approval; it was customary on first dates after all. You just hoped he’d give you a chance to do the same, though you had a feeling he probably couldn’t be as open as you’d like. Few could say they knew much about the chancellor, and you figured there was a reason for that. He’d be a tough nut to crack, but you had a deep desire to find out more about him.

Parallels between Real Ardyn and Dream Ardyn aside…

“You said you attended university before starting your career,” he began. “What did you study under their tutelage?”

“Public relations,” your answer was automatic. The question had been asked countless times while you were a student, after all. “I also minored in ancient Lucian, but I’m a little rusty these days.”

It was true, you’d once been semi-fluent. The language had caught your attention after you’d learned of your ancestry. While your blood was mostly a mix of Niff and Tenebraen, a drop of Lucian ran through your veins. Bred out through generations, your ancestors had once owned land there. When you’d found out, you liked the idea of connecting with that part of yourself, and, for once, your parents agreed. Dead language though it was, many books from those days lived on, allowing people to study it as they pleased. Your own skills had atrophied though, having no one else to speak with, and little time to practice on your own. Sadly, more of it slipped through your fingers each day, but you could still hold a basic conversation.

Ardyn’s eyes practically sparkled at that. “Ancient Lucian?” He said slowly, wonder lacing his tone. “Now that is something you don’t hear very often.”

“It’s a pretty language,” you said, smiling with pride at how impressed he seemed. “It’s so different from our modern tongue, I loved seeing how much we’ve changed.”

Ardyn nodded. “I must say, I’m surprised. Few have the patience to learn it.”

“Yeah, my classes were pretty small. And it doesn’t translate into the modern word very well. Plus all the symbols…”

“A challenge I’m sure you more than excelled at facing. You’ll have to demonstrate for me sometime,” Ardyn chortled. “I’ve yet to meet anyone able to master it.”

“‘Master’ is a strong word,” you chuckled. “I haven’t been able to practice much now that I've graduated, but I’d like to get better at it again.”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” he smirked. “I have known it for many, many years.”

Your eyes widened, and you gaped at him, much to his amusement.

“You know Ancient Lucian?!” You said, astounded. How, why did he know ancient Lucian? You hadn’t met another person who knew it since you left school.

“Indeed I do,” Ardyn purred, pleased with the bewilderment that twisted your expression. “Our friends across the pond found the idea of communicating in a language we couldn’t understand quite grand, given the circumstances. Our intelligence agencies have become versed in the tongue to compensate, and I followed suit, so I may be kept abreast of their messages without the need for a translator.”

After hearing his explanation, you relaxed a little, glad there was an actual reason for it. Though, something still nagged at you from the back of your head. A strangeness you didn’t know how to name, something that felt…off. You decided to ignore it, all too happy to accept what he’d said.

Just a coincidence…The dreams may have been in the past, but it’s just a coincidence.

That’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

“Makes sense,” you said with a nod. “Hard to spy on someone when you can’t understand them.”

“Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,” Ardyn shrugged.

As he finished his sentence, fancy curved wine glasses were placed in front of you. Charlette smiled triumphantly as she brandished the dark green bottle, residue of a wax seal dripping down the neck, the cork already gone. She filled your glasses halfway, a forced smile on your lips as you watched it fizzle and foam slightly. She left the rest on Ardyn’s side, bidding you adieu with reassurances that your meals would be out shortly.

Ardyn picked up his glass by the stem, swirling the scarlet liquid under his nose. You took yours as well, thinking how it was like coffee: smelling much too sweet for what bitterness it contained. With an approving smile, Ardyn brought the wine to his lips, and you quickly followed suit. Some part of you hoped it wouldn’t be as bad as you were expecting.

You tried your best not to make a face. You really did. Despite your efforts, you could feel the faint contorting of your expression turning sour. The potent flavor of alcohol permeated your entire mouth in seconds, like someone had cracked open a battery over your tongue, letting the vitriolic acid burn into your taste buds. The PH so low it brought back memories of being violently sick over a toilet.

You gulped it down quickly, relishing in the whisper of sweetness that followed the disgusting liquid. At least with wine, there was a pleasant, fruity aftertaste.

When your eyes flicked up at your companion, you had a new reason to grimace. Ardyn was staring at you, a brow raised, with the slightest frown on his face.

“Something the matter, dear?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Is it not to your liking?”

Oh, bless his heart. He doesn’t realize it’s not this wine I have a problem with.

“Ah -” you hedged, placing your glass back on the table shamefully. You’d hoped you would be able to get through at least a few sips before you made your distaste known.

“I’m sorry,” you said, hating yourself for not being able to just suck it up. “I’m just…not really a fan of most alcoholic beverages. Pure acid…” you muttered the last bit under your breath.

A long pause followed, Ardyn staring at you. You acquainted yourself with the table cloth, fidgeting nervously under his gaze.

You looked up in shock as a hearty laugh filled your ears.

“Is that all, my dear?” Ardyn said between laughs. “Why, you almost had me worried! I was afraid you’d taken ill.”

You blinked owlishly, not expecting his reaction. You let out your own laugh, albeit a nervous one. “No no, I’m fine. Just can’t stomach the stuff. Especially champagne. Never been able to enjoy it.”

“Well, I’d hate to bring you such discomfort.” Ardyn continued to snicker while he spoke. “I’ll have the waiter fetch you something more suitable.”

“Oh that’s okay.” You waved your hand dismissively. You didn’t want to seem picky or ungrateful. “I’m fine with water, you don’t have to -”

But it was too late, Ardyn already waving over one of the attendants that passed by. A tall young man with hair cut down nearly to the roots, a thin mustache on his lip.

“Might you be so kind as to fetch my friend something more to her liking?” Ardyn was saying, the man leaning down to hear him. “Preferably something…virgin? I’m sure you can think of an agreeable substitute.”

The attendant glanced at you, his brown eyes analytic, calculating as he studied you. Just as quickly, an uttered “Of course, your Excellency,” left his mouth before he turned and disappeared into the restaurant.

You sighed at his retreating back, shaking your head. “You didn’t have to do that, it was fine, I promise.”

“Oh but it wasn’t,” he gave you a pointed look. “I’ll not have it be known I’m a bad host. Besides, we came here to enjoy ourselves, and it seems unfair to let me have all the fun.”

Well, you supposed you couldn’t argue with that. He had a point, after all. And hard as you tried to fight it, a little smile crept across your cheeks. It was…kind of sweet.

“Thank you,” you said to the table. The thoughtfulness made a fuzzy warmth settle in your chest.

Ardyn didn’t respond, though his expression softened. A slow nod was all that was needed to show he accepted your gratitude.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to our previous conversation,” he said gently, his fingers laced in his lap and elbows resting on the armrests of his chair.

Looking up, you nodded. “Right.”

“Tell me, do you have any family living in our lovely capital?”

Your smile faltered, fists clenching in your lap, bunching up the napkin. You hadn’t expected him to jump to that so soon. The fuzz in your chest burned like kindling, and you averted your gaze, hoping he couldn’t see the extent of the sourness that replaced your smile.

“They, uh….We’re not exactly on good terms.” You picked at a loose string on the tablecloth, unable to meet his eyes.

“My apologies. I did not mean to upset you.”

“No,” you said quickly, turning back to him. “No, it’s okay. It’s just…I…” You paused trying to think of how to phrase it.

“They always wanted me to be perfect,” you started, pushing down and burying the anger that tried to resurface with the memories. “I was never good enough for them, and they made sure I knew it. They always wished I’d been a son. And my older sister was never any help.”

You swallowed, the lump that’d formed in your throat making it harder to talk with each word. It’d taken years, and lots of therapy, to be able to talk about it at all. You still couldn’t without emotions that’d been left to fester in stained jars from clawing at your skin, threatening to spill. For what does a child crave more than the love of their mother and father?

They only ever saw you as their maid, though. You were cooking the family meals by the time you were ten, cleaning the house and doing the chores since seven. Your family was the proud owner of a successful orchard to the east of the capital, meaning their house was nothing to sneeze at. More of a mansion, but to you it was more of a prison, trapped with a father who shouted and a mother who demeaned. You were beaten into submission, burned and flayed and ripped until you were their perfect little princess, a trained monkey for all to gawk at.

You supposed all the love they had was used up on your sister, whom they spoiled to the point of being rotten. She loved how much they favored her over you. It was like a sport to her, to see how much trouble she could get you into. Any attempts to stand up to her were rewarded with a lock on your door, and a night without dinner. Some part of you did pity her though; she was but a pampered poodle after all. More of an object to your parents than a person, something to flaunt to their rich neighbors.

Schooling wasn’t something they were overly fond of you participating in, since your sister had already proven herself superior in that field. She won awards at science fairs while your grades were good, but not spectacular. A failing in their eyes. When eighteen rolled around, their boot was already firmly placed in your back, the door to their estate shutting with a thunderous crack behind you. They would suffer a runt no longer.

You tensed when something kicked you, snapping you out of your dark memories. Your brows furrowed, and you stared down at the table as if you might see through it. Then - there it was again. Something nudged your shin.

It was Ardyn. His smirk had been wiped clean off, and was replaced with a gentleness you hadn’t seen before. It…looked like sympathy.

“I know the feeling all too well,” he answered your unspoken question. “I never lived up to my family’s standards, so I became an outcast.” Something flicked across his face, and you blinked, recognizing it. It looked similar to what happened when he saw Jeremy; an untamable rage that was held by a leash ripe for snapping. Gone before you had a chance to really see it, buried as deep as it would go.

Well…family issues could certainly explain his bitterness.

You sensed his leg was still encroaching on your side of the table. Thankful that he snapped you out of your whirlpool of thoughts, you decided to return the favor. Sinking down into your seat a little, you reached out with your right foot, finding his boot easily. Delicately, you curled your ankle, giving his shin a comforting rub.

A soft smile returned to his face when he felt you. You gave him one of your own, feeling he deserved to be soothed too.

“So…we’re both a little broken,” you said, like you were sharing a secret. “Maybe we can help each other pick up the pieces, if you’re willing.”

He hummed in thought, letting his smile grow back into a smirk. Good - he was feeling better, then.

“I’d like that,” he said, twirling the stem of his wine glass in his fingers. “If you’re willing to put up with the ravings of an old man.”

You scoffed at him. “You’re not old!” You waved your hand at him in offense. “You look thirty!”

“Close,” he teased, sipping his drink. “I’m thirty-three.”

“See? That’s not old.”

He snickered at how adamant you were. You certainly had fire when you wanted to.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be winning this one.” He leaned back in his chair, defeated. “Ugh, where were you on the council when I needed you?”

“I don’t think I’ve got the patience for politics,” you giggled at the thought. “I’d speak out of line once and get thrown in jail.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Especially with the epidemic of incompetence spreading through the Emperor's cabinet as of late.”

“Giving you trouble, are they?” You said with a chuckle.

“All the time.”

You laughed whilst he shook his head, rubbing his temple in frustration. You supposed even the chancellor couldn’t escape the woes of annoying colleagues.

“Who’s the worst of the bunch?” You probed, not really expecting an answer.

“General Calligo Ulldor,” he said without hesitation, letting out an angry sigh. “He has an ego bigger than the imperial legions, and that is saying something.”

You hummed, taking a sip of water. You could feel its cold touch glide down your throat as you drank. You hadn’t noticed until then, but your mouth had gone quite dry over the course of the evening.

“Never heard of him,” you said, placing your glass back on the table. You weren’t big on politics, but you still knew some of the people on the imperial council. Aside from Ardyn, that is.

He grinned widely at your statement, a mischievousness darkening his eyes.

“I’ll be telling him that when next I see him. He’ll have an utter fit over it.”

You scoffed again. “I doubt he cares what some commoner thinks.”

“And you would be forgiven for that assumption, inaccurate as it may be. The man believes his name echoes from the coasts of Niflheim to the walls of Insomnia.”

“Damn…that is a big ego.”

You smiled as Ardyn laughed, one that was carefree and jovial. You liked that look on him. You decided you wanted to see him laugh like that more.

Right as he was settling down, your waitress returned, steaming plates balanced in one arm while she held a glass in the other. You’d completely forgotten about the drink Ardyn ordered for you, but its bright red color betrayed something sweet, and you were a sucker for sweet things. The warm plate she placed in front of you looked just as appetizing; you didn’t need to sink your fork into it to tell it was cooked to perfection, its savory aroma prompting an impatient growl from your belly.

You both thanked the waitress and she was off, leaving you alone to enjoy your meals. Ardyn encouraged you to tell him if it was all to your liking, and you nodded, though you doubted you would be disappointed. It all looked perfect.

Holding up his glass, Ardyn proposed a toast to your budding relationship. Taking your own, you adorned a goofy smile as your glasses tinked together, both of you taking swigs of your drinks. This one was infinitely better, a mix of ulwaat berries and the sharp taste of oranges. These were the kind of drinks you could suck down all day.

The food was the real highlight though, which was to be expected. As soon as the first forkfull hit your tongue, you melted into your seat, closing your eyes blissfully to bask in the heavenly flavor. It was even better than you could’ve imagined.

For those first few bites, neither of you insisted on conversation, too busy savoring your dishes. Glancing at Ardyn’s, you still weren’t entirely sure what it was, but it looked like some kind of fancy casserole; a layer of starchy substance concealed a treasure of meat and vegetables. You’d have to ask him what it was later.

After a few minutes, Ardyn resumed asking you questions in between bites. You were happy to oblige, the conversation flowing more freely. He started by asking about your hobbies, mercifully leaving the issue of your family aside. You told him about them in scant detail, curious what his own hobbies were, and asking him as much. He told you he fancied all different manners of wine, though that wasn’t much of a revelation, given his enthusiasm for the stuff. He also told you he was rather good at chess, which surprised you. You asked him to play you sometime, though he warned your odds of winning against him were slim, at best. You made him promise not to go easy on you.

By the time you two were done exchanging stories of how you fell into your passions, your plates were greasy and cold, your glasses empty and stained. Ardyn drank almost the entire bottle of wine on his own, yet he didn’t seem even the slightest bit tipsy. He must’ve had a high tolerance, since he seemed to drink it often, by the way he spoke about it.

As soon as you both were satisfied, Charlette appeared, gathering your dirtied plates and asking if you had interest in dessert. Ardyn looked to you wordlessly, leaving the decision in your hands. As much as you were tempted, you were full enough on dinner, and chose to decline. With that, she took the last of the wine, saying she would keep it for his next visit, and add the night's meal to his tab.

When she departed for the final time, Ardyn stood, strutting to your side so he could hold out his hand for you. You blushed a little as you placed your hand in his, letting him help you up. Somehow it felt more intimate then, the way he smiled at you with his trademark smirk and gave his arm for you to take. It felt less like it was just for show and more like he may actually have some interest in you.

As dizzying as the thought was.

But you weren’t going to let your doubts dampen your mood. A pleasant contentment had laid its roots in you, blooming into a smile that wouldn’t leave your face. The evening had gone better than you could’ve expected. Even though there was some initial nervousness, and the hiccup of your family affairs, your conversation had otherwise come naturally. Both of you teased each other, cracked jokes, made like a merry couple, all things considered. It made you feel good. It put a spring in your step as you were walked back to the elevator.

Ardyn, of course, insisted on taking you home. You agreed readily; the building was much too far from home to walk, which left you with few options. Not that you minded, you were feeling more confident in Ardyn’s presence after the night you shared.

The ride home was lethargic, your bodies busy processing what you’d put in them. Ardyn made his way to your apartment without issue, parking his car right next to the front doors. When you got out, so did he, asking if he could walk you to your room. You hesitated at first, but you allowed it. You didn’t want to leave his side just yet. Standing next to him was starting to feel warm. Comforting.

The elevator ride was a silent one, but this time the painful prick of awkwardness was noticeably absent. It let you off with a ding, and you led Ardyn down the row of cookie cutter doors to what you called home.

“This is me,” you said, gesturing to one close to the end. The only distinguishing feature a gold 1021 glued under the peephole.

“…Thank you,” you said, turning to where Ardyn stood behind you, watching you fish around in your purse for your keys. “For tonight, I mean. I had fun.”

Ardyn’s eyes softened. “As did I,” he said.

You stared at each other for a long moment, not saying anything, wondering how you should part from each other. You weren't sure if you should do something more. Should you say goodnight? Hug him? Kiss him? The possibilities swirled in your head, indecision pulling her boney fingers through your hair.

Though, as usual, Ardyn knew what to do. He stepped forward, the familiar feeling of his fingers under your chin welcome. Perhaps it was the lighting, but his amber eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at you.

“Might I be so bold…” he murmured, his half lidded irises blinking long and slow. “As to wish you a goodnight?”

He carded his thumb across your lower lip, a wake of tingling skin left after it. His gaze darted down to watch your mouth get pulled apart ever so slightly, before his eyes snapped back up.

He wanted to say goodnight… but not with words.

Your eyes widened. Did he…really want to…?

It was a little scary, when you realized what exactly he was asking of you. What if you weren’t good enough? Would you disappoint him? Hell, were you even ready for this?

You trembled with a full body shudder, the answer your soul gave shaking you to your core.

“Yes,” you breathed, letting your consent hang in the air as the tension between you two balanced on a knife's edge. Your tongue wet your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall and linger on his mouth, before being caught again by his saucers of honey.

Ardyn hummed in pleasure, holding your chin up for himself.

“Close your eyes…” he whispered.

You obeyed without hesitation, blood rushing in your ears as the anticipation made your muscles tighten.

The ghosting of his breath across your face preceded him. You curled your toes, waiting, and when the stubble of his beard scratched your skin, his lips finally meeting yours, time slowed to a stop.

His touch had always sparked heat deep beneath your skin, a crackling fire of emotions you didn’t dare name.

But this…this was a bonfire, one that struck like lightning down to your fingertips, a raging blaze that stole your breath away. His mouth was soft, decadent in the way it slowly massaged into yours, delectable in the way his beard contrasted his lips. You could sense the faint, sweet taste of the wine he’d had, making him all the more delicious.

It took you a moment to come down from your high, remembering to return his gentle caress. The care he took to familiarize himself with how you moved kept making you lightheaded. Even though he took the lead, he wasn’t demanding. Ardyn allowed you to get lost in the movement, your fingers curling as a need began to bloom in the bowels of your core.

He was addicting.

Whatever fleeting thoughts occupying your brain vanished, leaving behind only the need to join him in that dance. You sighed contentedly into him, melting into his form, your hands coming to rest on his chest. Ardyn made a pleased sound, his own hands dropping to hold your hips, keeping you flush against himself.

It was all at once long and indulgent and over far too soon. You parted from each other with a wet, satisfying pop, panting not from lack of breath, but from the magnitude of what you’d just done. You got kissed by the chancellor. And fuck, you’d liked it. You’d liked it a lot. Your eyes fluttered open, watching him, hoping he’d enjoyed that as much as you had.

Ardyn’s face shone with the gentlest blush, his eyes slightly wide and unblinking. He looked at you like you were a great mystery to him, something he lacked the tools to figure out. He was at a loss for words, his neck showing the faintest hints of perspiration.

But even while his face was contorted with confusion, he couldn’t hide the desire that burned deep within his eyes.

There was a long pause that followed, the two of you just staring at the other. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what you would do.

It did not have to wait long for an answer.

Something in Ardyn snapped. He suddenly lunged forward, sweeping you up and forcing a startled yelp from you, shoving you against your door. The sound was barely out of your throat when he claimed your lips again, holding your body delightfully hostage between himself and cheap wood.

At first, the kisses were light and airy. Perhaps even hesitant, both of you scared of what further indulgence would entail.

But soon, they were needy, desperate. You could sense it in the way he moved, how he clung to you like he feared the very thought of letting go. Like he’d wandered a barren desert all his life, only to now be blessed with the quenching mist of morning rain. You were his salvation, locked away and hidden by those who would wish him suffering.

And you were just as parched, just as depraved in your search for relief.

You could feel the door strain behind you, creaking while it struggled to hold as it pressed against your back, Ardyn humming a possessive growl into your skin.

You held on to his roaming forearms for stability, trying to remain grounded enough to return his sweet affections. The worries from the night, the week before melted away, massaged out of you by the passion, the hunger in his eyes.

So what if it all collapsed, really? Did it matter, when you breathed in Ardyn’s scent, his musk, as you moved to run your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. Oh, and the little whine of delight he made when you nipped his lower lip, his excitement brushing against your thigh.

So what if the world fell apart tomorrow, spoiled by fire and brimstone?

Would it matter, would you care?

No, you realized, humming into his mouth, cupping his stubbly cheek in one hand. His own traveled your sides, slowly dragged up and down, from where your bra could be felt through your shirt down to your hips. His nose pressed against yours, his bangs tickled your forehead.

You gasped when something slick traced your lower lip. You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. But you immediately let him in, unable to stop a slight moan as his tongue darted inside you. The remnants of his meal remained on the dexterous muscle, spreading the exotic spices across your taste buds as he explored your mouth. It intertwined with your own, bringing you together in a deep, primal way.

You could feel heat gathering below you, soiling your underwear. A pressure that built with every featherlight touch.

You felt slightly filthy for it. Normally, you weren’t really one to have sex on a first date.

But he felt so good. So right.

Your left hand untangled from his hair, groping blindly at the door holding you up, trying to fiddle with the handle.

“Do you…want to…come inside?” You asked between kisses, chasing his lips as he dove down to nibble the tender flesh of your neck. You groaned in appreciation, your fingers flying back into his hair.

When your words finally registered, Ardyn froze. You could’ve wailed when he leaned back slowly, meeting your eyes with a calculating expression.

You immediately felt guilt squeeze your chest. You’d overstepped.

“I don’t believe…” Ardyn said through heavy breaths. “…that would be appropriate of me, given how long we’ve known each other.”

Your face fell, as did your heart. The heat inside you fizzled, fading into embarrassment that made you want to sink into the ground.

He must surely think you a whore, now. Gods, you’d ruined it.

“Now, now,” he said gently, taking your crestfallen face into his palm. A sweet smile returned to his features as he rubbed fond circles into your cheek. “There’s no need to look so disappointed.” He leaned down sinfully close to your ear, his voice a siren’s song. “I am not opposed to having a bit of fun, once we come to know each other better.”

Your heart leapt at that. So there was still hope for you.

Ardyn chuckled when we leaned back, noticing how your face had brightened. You were just adorable.

“Speaking of which,” he began, letting his hands fall from you as he took a step back. Your body unconsciously swayed in his direction, missing the warmth of his caress. Oh, how he’d never get tired of watching you chase his touch. “I had plans to spend the afternoon at the imperial gardens at his Radiance’s humble abode. It would bring me unending delight if you were to join me.”

You stared at him with wide, excited eyes. “Is that allowed?” You asked. Not just anyone was permitted into the imperial palace, especially common folk. You’d only ever seen it in passing, from the outside.

Ardyn grinned mischievously. “With my blessing, you are allowed anywhere, my dearest. Sans perhaps, the Emperor’s private quarters. I don’t believe he would find it amusing if we visited him uninvited.”

You laughed quietly at the thought. Ardyn certainly had an interesting sense of humor.

Stepping up to him, you caught him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest, reminding yourself of when you’d done the same thing in a dream. His clothes were just as comforting and full of warmth as then too, and you delighted in the movement of his lungs, the beating of his heart. After a moment, he held you with just as much enthusiasm, one hand rhythmically combing through your hair while the other cupped the small of your back.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow?” You asked, looking up at him in question. He still had that soft adoring smile on his face, and you could’ve melted at seeing it displayed for you.

He brushed the back of his knuckles across your cheek, widening your pleased grin.

“I swear it on my honor as Chancellor,” he smirked, that whimsical mischief you were coming to know returning to his eyes.

You giggled at him, releasing his waist in favor of taking his hand from your face, pressing a delicate kiss on the back of his fingers. “A simple promise would do.”

“Then a promise you’ll have,” he said. “I’ll have an attendant ready for you by noon tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready a few minutes prior to his arrival, it would be a shame to make him wait.”

You gave a short nod. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” You released his hand as he stepped backward, waving as he turned toward the elevator. “With that, I bid you farewell. Until tomorrow.”

You returned his wave smally, watching him go.

“Good night, Ardyn.”

He paused midstep, looking at you over his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten.

“Good night…花.” (hana)

Your eyes widened, a soft gasp falling from your lips as he smirked at you. He continued on down the corridor, as carefree as he was at the convenience store.

Like he hadn’t just called you his flower in ancient Lucian.

Your head spun with it, a flush washing down to your fingertips. It was so…intimate, in a different way. Like a promise, a trusted secret. You almost wanted to call after him, say something in return, but you couldn’t think of anything suitable. Plus, you didn’t want to overstep so soon after you’d already stumbled. He’d set a pace for the both of you in this. The least you could do was respect it.

So, with some reluctance, you focused on getting your door open. Still, you couldn’t wipe your stupid smile from your face. He called you flower, you thought giddily, the door clicking softly as the lock was undone. You closed it gently behind you, not wanting to wake your neighbors. Glancing at the digital clock on your stove, it was already well past ten. The fact had your body sagging. It’d been easy to ignore your tiredness before, but now that you were alone, it struck you with full force. It was past your bedtime.

Throwing your purse onto the coach carelessly, you got ready for bed. Your brain was filled with the memories of your night out, replaying the best parts as you showered and changed. You’d had more fun than you thought you would.

And you were going to see him again tomorrow!

You let out a happy sigh at the reminder, snuggling into bed. You were excited to see him.

So much so, it was almost enough to make you forget about your dreams. And the nagging sense of wrongness that was an incessant thorn in the back of your mind, as you drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep well…あなた.” (anata)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ardyn slammed his fist against the elevator wall, the metal groaning as it caved from the force. Another dent for the disgusting bucket that building called a lift.

“Gods damn it all,” he muttered, a fury that was all too familiar making him tremble with a need to release it.

The kiss had been a test. He wanted to know how much the gods had made you in Aera’s image, and your little date gave him the perfect opportunity to test not only your personality, but also your more…intimate mannerisms. A quick peck was all it was meant to be.

But it became so much more. When his lips touched yours, he got the same feeling he did when he kissed his beloved. How his heart felt like it was soaring, content and ignorant of the turmoil that shook the ground below. With her, he forgot his hurts as a healer who absorbed the scourge, and instead could simply exist. Pretend for a few moments he lived a peaceful life with his beloved, drowning in the happiness she wrought.

And it’d happened again. He felt it as soon as he kissed you. That happiness, the love he craved so deeply, even if he denied it. Your lips had moved with that same feeling of reverence, the same unconditional love he once felt from her. When you parted from each other, his soul screamed, for it was desperate to feel even an ounce of that again.

So, against his better judgment, he’d kissed you again. And again. And again. He let himself get lost in it, closing his eyes as he remembered her. He could picture it, stealing time away from his duties to waste it in the gardens together. Or stolen moments at the inn of the town he was curing, where they would relax for a short while before their callings beckoned them onward.

Until you spoke, that is, reminding him who it was he was actually kissing.

That had been a splash of cold water to his senses, and he knew he had to stop. He’d let it go on for far too long.

His fingers hesitantly traced his lips, which tingled with the memory of your touch. No, it hadn’t been the exact same as Aera, he realized. You were both gentle in your affections, certainly, but there was something else in yours. A fiery determination mixed with a hint of apprehension. You weren’t as sure of yourself as Aera was, but you had enough will to fight that part of yourself when you wanted to.

He let out an angry sigh as the doors slid open to the lobby. He’d have to do more tests to be certain.

The dinner had been fruitful at least. Even though he was a bit sad to see you still couldn’t be completely honest with him, he’d expected as much. Well, no matter. He’d just have to break down your walls, earn your trust. Something he could call himself an expert in.

Still, he’d gotten quite a bit out of you. He learned enough to tell that you were not a carbon copy of his Aera, which had him relieved. He’d been worried the gods would be too lazy to think of anything else, couldn’t imagine anyone besides her holding him in any positive regard. That they would copy and paste her personality, her wants, her passions onto another body, plastering another face over it.

They hadn’t, though, which surprised him. Aera had been a fan of architecture, something that you displayed no interest in. Reading was something you had in common, but he supposed he couldn’t really blame you for that one - you worked in a library after all. She also had no issues with her family, at least none that he could recall. No, you were your own person. The gods had given him a small mercy on that front.

Yet that mercy was a double edged sword. While he could confirm you were your own person, he could also confirm there was unmistakably something bigger at play here. It was no coincidence you made him feel the ways Aera did. And it was no coincidence you’d met now, so close to the cursed prophecy’s end.

A prophecy he was now certain had begun pulling at your strings.

Though for what purpose, he still couldn’t say.

He’d have time to figure it out though, under the guise of more ‘dates’.

Speaking of which…

Ardyn pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he slammed his car door shut. It rang once before it was answered.

“Yes, your Excellency?” The scratchy voice of one of his servants chirped.

Ardyn said your name, your full name, into the device. “I want you to find me the location of her immediate family. I’d like to pay them a visit…”

“At once, your Eminence.”

———————————————————————

Thank you everyone for the patience and support. It has really helped me get back into this, now that I have time.

I kept things like Reader's hobbies and what they were eating vague so you can put in whatever you like :). I personally imagined reader got some delicious beef wellington and Ardyn got a shepherd's pie. I head canon he likes commoner food, it's comforting for him.

Also, since some of you know I do have some childhood trauma, I just want to say the stuff I said about reader's family is completely fictional. My family is wonderful and I love them very much. We're going out for drinks later :) (yes the alcohol thing is real though so wish me luck lmao).

Also also I decided since I'm semi bilingual I wanted to add some Japanese into the story! Don't worry, I'll make sure to put translations in the text where it appears, that way you don't have to scroll/look anything up to understand it. This time is the exception because I wanted it to be a surprise. Japanese definitely exists inside FFXV already, I'm just tweaking it so it can be a sweet little thing between Ardyn and reader :) Hope you enjoy it!

Translations: 花 = flower あなた = dear (or a general term of endearment)

No, the dreams weren't in ancient Lucian, they were in English. Reader didn't even know they were in Lucis during them, and probably still has some doubt about the exact location.

Anyway, I've set a routine for myself to write a little bit everyday, which I hope I can adhere to. Please look forward to future chapters!

[nitroglycerin-sponge]

Mecharoni Pizza Part 4

Links: prev / next / main

Bonus: Pizza Varieties

Pizza Varieties are formatted as follows: [Title] [Descriptor] [Ingredient] and [Ingredient] [Style]

Titles: Guardian's, Manager's Special, Space Pirate's, Tyrant's, Star Lord's, Cheese Lover's, DragonLord's, Marksman's, Star Captain's, Mecha Gunner's, Mechanic's, Freshman's, Y-Mart Shopper's, Frugal Shopper's, Adventurer's, Mecha Pilot's, Overlord's, Instructor's, Khan's, Kingadent's, Teacher's, Family Sized, Star Fighter's, Supreme, Vegetarian, Meat Lover's, [none]

Descriptor: Titan, Reheated, Soggy, Month Old, Year Old, 100 Year Old, Beefy, Reanimated, Mysterious, Artisan, Fluffy, Half Eaten, Stacked, Rejected, Deadly, Double Decker, Irresistible, Golden Brown, Omnipotent, Healing, Moving, Accidentally made, Heroic, Holiday, Recalled, Late night, Smoking, Custom Ordered, Radioactive, Regurgitated, Gluten Free, Personal Pan, Blessed, Holy, Soft, Puny, Non-refundable, Well Seasoned, 3-Second Rule, Mostly Editable, Flame Engulfed, Ventilated, Invisible, Mathematically Sound, Infinitely Improbable, Smelly, Sizzling, Cursed, Blinding, Very Good, Tiny, Inverted, Robot Made, Sour Dough, Cold, Frozen, Long Lasting, Sentient, Cheese Filled, Oven Fresh, Scary, Undigestable, Colossal, Gamma, Beta, Poisonous, Outworldly, Tasty, Haunted, Fresh, Broiled, Two Star, Dairy Free, Insured, Grilled, Under Seasoned, Technologically Advanced, Legendary, Vampyric, Lactose Free, Undead, Explosive, Glowing, Specially Prepared, Exotic*, Exhumed, Bite Size, Theoretically Improbable, Sugar Coated, Transforming, Self Aware, Foul, Moist, Chewy, Undercooked, Good to Go, Rare, Pungent, All mighty, Sour tasting, Hot, Sweet smelling, Multifunctional, Epic, Hypnotic, Quality Tested, MSG Free, Whole Wheat, Charred, Shredded, Microscopic, Microwaved, Stepped on, Metallic, Over seasoned, Caramelized, Hand Tossed, Pretty Big, Medium, Disintegrating, Chocolate Covered, Small, Fried, Mithril Chef's, Nano, Burnt, Dropped, Self eating, Four Star, Foul, Common, Triple Decker, Sat on, Galactic, [none]

Ingredients: Hot Fudge, Lime, Toothpaste, Caramel, Okra, Pepperoni, Eel, Duck, Pumpkin, Green Pepper, Mayonase, Bacon, Grizzly, Pepper, Egg Roll, Seedspitter, Sneevil, Lettuce, Sun Dried Tomato, Pomegranate, Salt, French Fry, Jelly, Ice Cream, Straw Berry, Gum, Provolone, Chocolate Chip, Ham, Maple Syrup, Swiss Cheese, Ribs, Asparagus, Onion, Egg, Gram Cracker, Marshmellow, Imitation-Dolphin, Expresso, Cereal, Almond, Candy Cane, Noodle, Yam, Chicken, Avocado, Fish, Coffee Bean, Pickle, Citrus, Orange, Walnut, Pork Belly, Soylent Green, Mystery Meat, Octopus, Tater Tot, Catnip, Nuts and Bolts, Parsley, Raisin, Taffy, Anchovy, Bat, Rat, Lemon, Gouda, Red Pepper, Popcorn, Hamburger, Cheese, Milk, Pineapple, Road kill, Snake, Ox Tongue, Macaroni, Mognip, Meatball, Olive, Skunk, Gorillaphant, Blue Cheese, Anchovy, Split Pea, Yogurt, Meteorite, Asteroid, Shellfish, Oil & Vinegar, Apple, Carne Asada, Fig, Fried Chicken, Dog Biscut, Sushi, Tapiocca, Steak, Peanut Butter, Jam, Cracker, Bean, Squid, Sweet & Sour Sauce, Oatmeal, Corn, BBQ Chicken, Gator, Sour Cream, Tofu, Grease, Jello, Pumpernickel

Styles: Pizza, Sicilian Pizza, Ultimate Pizza, Thick Crust Pizza, Giant Pizza, Pizza Slice, Square Pizza, Flavoured Pizza, Triangular-shaped Pizza, Pan Pizza, Pizza Pie, Chicago Style Pizza, Deep Dish Pizza

[hhbridgertonau]

2 - A Raking Affair

TW: Brief Depictions of Sex are in this chapter.

Not the chapter you're looking for? Check the Masterlist!

The House of Paradiso is perhaps the most renowned arrangement of noble families in the ton, constituting of the Driscol and Stewart families. Never has this author seen a spectacular lineup of eligible bachelors, many of who are prime specimens of devotion, manned at the helm by the great Ainsworth Stewart - a man with dignity and prowess to rival the king himself.

However, this author wishes to direct your attention to the tragedy that is the Viscount Fauta Driscol, who, as birds have twittered, is often found publicly escaping in the realm of debauchery.

My dearest reader, it is one thing for a man to become a Rake - but it is another thing entirely when he publicly displays his assets to be made the item of scandal…

Gabriel Driscol could care less about the activities of the ton. He had spent a good majority of his time away from it, especially during the Season where it was filled with anticipating women who tried to butter up to him with the most superficial display of charms and very little wit. A dukedom needed a proper man to lead it, and Gab couldn’t be interested in flattery and social etiquette when he had real matters to attend to.

Fortunately, he was not visiting London on the account of any woman. At least he hoped so. His uncle, Ainsworth Stewart, had expressed a most drastic need for his presence. As he was not the kind of man who called in favors, Gab could only assume it was the most pressing of matters.

Stewart Hall had not changed from when Gab saw it last. The ivy clung to its cherry brick facade in the same pattern as the one from his childhood, and shadowed over the two front doors like an ill omen. He should not have been surprised if that man still ran the household.

He found the Earl of Dovenshire in his drawing room, a small string of beads clutched tightly in his palms, with the cross shaking in his grip. He hadn’t looked a day over sixty. A blessing in disguise, he supposed. Gab remembered how his mother once called him a kind of omnipotent god, with how exacting and religious he was. He could match bishops with his might and commandeering presence, and Gab knew that Ainsworth longed to be a man of the Church.

Ainsworth’s mouth moved rapidly but quietly, fingers shifting over the beads in quick fashion. Gab waited until he muttered “amen” to speak.

“Lord Stewart, it has been some time since we last met.”

“Gabriel.” He rose from his somber kneeling and looked him up and down. “A fine man you have become.”

Gab smiled.

“I shall not bore you with the pleasantries. I have asked you here to act as a sponsor, and frankly, a…disciplinarian of sorts.”

“A sponsor?”

A footman marched into the drawing room. “Miss Stewart, your lordship.”

“Send her in,”

Gab had half-expected a demure and puritan face to match that of Ainsworth’s. Instead, he faced a lady whose hair was cut far too short, the tips of her hair just above her ears. She looked like a pre-pubescent schoolboy. The slouch in her shoulders stated she wanted to be anywhere but here. She pressed her lips together and offered a prompt curtsy. A little too short by Gab’s standards - or any instructor’s. Never had he seen a lady behave with such disrespect and disregard.

“You remember Angela, don’t you?” said Ainsworth.

Gab looked over the girl once more, appalled by the revelation.

“Jellie?”

He was beginning to understand why Ainsworth summoned him.

“Is that truly how you greet a duke?”

Jellie flashed him a petty smile. “Title or no title, cousin, I would still treat you like this.”

Ainsworth raised a brow knowingly. “She excels at the basics, and plays more an extensive repertoire for the piano-forte. Well-versed in poetry and can hold a merry old-tune when she feels it.”

Gab glared at her. “But her disposition and lack of cooperation, I presume?”

Jellie turned to Ainsworth, her eyes glossing over. “Papa please,” she whined. “Must I go through this?”

“You’ve put off your debut for too long, Jellie.”

“But I do not want to marry. I want to stay with you—”

“I cannot trust this task to anyone but you, Gabriel.” Ainsworth continued, not even offering her some reassurance.

“A respectable duke such as yourself will surely attract the right kind of suitors for her. Normally this task would fall to your cousin Fauta, but with his lack of decorum, I refuse to put him at the helm,”

Gab flinched. “What has he done this time?”

Ains sighed. “That is the problem: nothing new.”

He picked up a solitary sheet of paper off the table beside him and handed it to Gab. He skimmed through the very words, color dusting his cheeks at Lady Nightbloom’s vocabulary, and the message within it.

“Goodness, the ton must have lost its sanity to rely on the scandals of others to be entertained,” he tried to play off his embarrassment in sarcasm.

“Bachelors wandering off with prostitutes is not a thing of novelty, but it becomes such a thing when people like Lady Nightbloom announce the filth for the public’s scrutiny,” Ainsworth cleared his throat.

Gab sighed, resisting the urge to press his hand to his head to soothe the ache blooming within it. Nothing new indeed.

“Has Fauta heard of this?”

“Highly unlikely, he’s probably still raking around town. Anytime is pleasure time for him,” Jellie grinned. “How lucky for a man to be able to waltz around with no strings attached.”

Gab ignored her. “What about cousin Mikael?”

“Mika is diligently pursuing his studies in university. He has no intention of settling yet. However, he has agreed to assist you when he can, and insisted on accompanying Jellie for her ball this evening.”

“Good. I believe I shall be needing it,” he glared at Jellie, who turned her head away with a huff. Gab would need some brushing up himself on the ton’s eligible bachelors. Luckily Nightbloom’s unsavory (but perhaps most accurate) so-called criticisms will narrow it down. If push came to shove, Gab could always persuade and arrange for a suitor. Jellie should have no objections.

The trouble was Fauta. Heaven knows where Fauta learned how to be so brazen with his activities. Gab knew he loved to show off, but he should still have had some decency. A few words of wisdom for his cousin were in order - wherever the hell he was.

“If that is all, my Lord, I shall be seeing to my things.” There was much to do.

He excused himself from the drawing room and briskly marched down the hall, barely missing the baron who froze upon seeing him.

Gab knew little about Roush Bastion, having met him only a few times in passing. Slightly incompetent in the art of socialization, he had a tendency to be too forthright with his opinions. But it were these very opinions that made Ainsworth take him into his household. He had been a soldier years before he was a baron, and they awarded the title to him for his service by Ainsworth’s recommendation.

“Your grace,” he said. “I did not think you would be joining us this season.”

“I am on business, I’m afraid.” Arranging marriages was all about that, it seemed. Such foolishness. “But your timing is impeccable. Have you seen Fauta, perchance?”

Roush tensed at the mention of his name. “I have not seen him since this morning.”

His eyes darted side to side. A lie if Gab had ever seen one.

“It is midday, where else would he be?”

Roush bit his lip, but refused to answer.

“Speak, baron!”

“…He’s at his flat across the square, your grace.”

He supposed he should thank the Lord for Roush’s honesty.

“Come with me, we are going to see him.”

Roush led him to a series of small row-houses by Governor’s Square. It appeared so modest in the spring. Roush unlatched the gate to one of them, waiting for Gab to enter with him. Roush rapped his walking cane on the door, but heard no scuffle or any indication of movement. Roush knocked again, but no one came to the door.

Against Gab’s better judgment, he decided it was better to let themselves in. All was quiet on the landing, except a faint moan in the air, or to be more precise, on the second floor. The more they listened, the more they could hear the wanton moans of a woman.

He marched up the stairs, with an unbridled rage flowing through him. Had Fauta no shame? Doing such things in broad daylight where people could hear?

He swung the door nearest the stairs, only to be assaulted by the most vile stench of sweat, sex, and cheap perfume. Bile rose in Gab’s throat at the amount of naked bodies of men and women that lay strewn about the congested bed-chamber, intoxicated beyond functioning capacity. But watching Fauta still in the throes of deflowering was an even more disgusting sight. And he and Roush had full view of it.

Gab had never and would never imagine his own kin in this way, hunched over a naked female, rocking his hips like a dog, with a thin sheen of sweat on his bare back. His flushed face hovered inches away from the woman's; both of their faces scrunched up in pleasure and bliss. Gab grabbed Roush by the arm, and the two stepped outside, praying that God would erase the image from their minds. But even that did not remedy their ears from the sounds that still faintly echoed outside. His hands trembled.

“Your grace—”

“Not a word, baron. We are to wait,.

They stood outside the door, staring at it like it was the gateway to hell. There was a tightness in Gab’s neck. He took one deep breath and sighed. He’d been caught off guard by the whole affair. What on good earth was he going to do about him? And why wasn’t he barging in there and beating sense into him? And there was Jellie to think of, and Ainsworth’s reaction to it all. It was funny how all of his concerns piled on top of him the moment he started thinking of one.

A minute had passed until he and Roush heard a loud, climactic groan, and then finally, silence. Gab bit his lip so hard he could have drawn blood. A few quiet shuffles, and then the door creaked open. Fauta’s face paled. The woman shrieked and rushed to cover herself with an abandoned sheet, but it was too late.

Gab yanked Fauta out the door and pinned him to the wall, uncaring for his lack of clothing. His arm braced harshly against his neck. He was going to choke the life out of him. Roush tried to sandwich himself between them, but Gab was intent on his threats.

“I pray you have an excellent reason to defend yourself,” he hissed. His fists shook, and he ground his teeth hard enough he thought he could make dust.

“Your grace,” Fauta choked. “A most pleasant surprise. What brings you to the city?”

There were about ten different curse words Gab wanted to use, but he bit his tongue and thought it through.

“Your name was on the society papers this morning, and it is not a celebratory feature.”

Fauta rolled his eyes. “So? Ladies do enjoy a Rake, it makes wooing one easy.”

“A Rake does not suit the ranks of the Paradiso house. And for all the women you’ve slept with, you have not even considered one for marriage. Why waste your time and engage in such filthy actions?”

“This sermon again? I’m not a child.”

“And yet here you are acting like one.”

Fauta shoved him off. “Easy for you to say, duke. You were lucky to have a reason to leave this blasted place. Why worry over such trivial matters like my own business, which should, by the way, remain my own?”

Gab pulled on his coat to straighten it. He was not about to be bested by Fauta of all people.

“By all means, you could Rake across the continent forlorn and alone, but your actions will ultimately reflect on your family. What will Lord Ainsworth think—”

“All Lord Ainsworth can think of are rules, rules, and more rules. I have grown sick of them. But I suppose a lap-dog such as yourself couldn’t tell slavery from obedience.”

Gab felt an artery burst somewhere. “How dare you—”

“That is enough,” Roush stood between them.

Fauta chuckled. “I suppose I should thank you for making things a little easier for me. With you here, perhaps Ainsworth won’t hound on me for the rest of the season.”

“He’s just looking out for you, Fauta.” said Roush.

“Funny, I thought you were the one looking out for me. And yet here he is,”

Roush did not meet his gaze. Before Fauta could close the door on them, Gab threw one final warning:

“If you continue to do this, you may not be welcome to your home again.”

Fauta glanced over his shoulder. “That place is not my home.”

The door clicked shut, and Gab had the itch to punch something.

Good God, Mother, he thought. Perhaps you were right to leave this place. If he knew it would turn out like this, he might have left. It was too late to depart now. He could only hope that Jellie would be married off soon, lest he had to deal with more problems. And goodness was the ton full of them.

[silkylious]

The speed at which I flip from 'I'm honestly too smart for this school' to 'how am I this fucking dumb what the hell' is honestly impressive

[themonsterofficearchive]

Hey fairy is there going to be a logo of sorts for monster office when it updates?

Sure will be!

[malachitelibrary]

Is wisdom even sapient? 

[that110alto]

My 2nd dnd character, a plasmoid lunar sorcerer named It (it/its).

Very creature! I am very excited to play it in an upcoming spelljammer campaign with friends.

It's backstory below the cut.

The idea is that "It" comes from a clan of plasmoids that are all asexually reproduced clones. All of them are practically identical and all of them are wholesomely dumb. They don't really speak an intelligble language, rather making strange noises to each other. They all are the same; silly, goofy, and always getting into mischief. They, to some degree, no one knows exactly why - worship the giant, astral moon jellyfish that pass by in a universe-wide migration once in a millenia. These giant omnipotent moon jellyfish are like gods to the creatures, and during the most recent migration, this particular one, excited, climbed to inch itself a little closer to the moon jellyfish - no one has ever dared to get close out of respect and fear of the jellies! As it climbed, others began to noticr and become fearful. Shortly, all of those who had taken notice were babbling in a wave of commotion as they looked on. The creatures were even more shocked when the lone climber, once upon the highest rock, seemed to *mock* the gods by morphing a moon jellyfish onto its head whilst giggling. How dare it morph into the likeness of a god! The rest of it's clan shook in horror and dismay as one of the jellies took notice, waiting for their god to strike down their lives with the force of the universe in wrathful destruction.

Curious, the giant moon jellyfish leaned in close to observe the giggling creature. The jelly gently and wordlessly brought its tentacle to the creature's forehead, and with the sting, it saw a million universes in its eyes, stars, galaxies, planets, worlds, and moons. With this touch, it had been blessed with the magic of the moons granted by the moon jellyfish.

Afterward, It was percieved as blessed by it's clanmates - touched by a god that had been feared, loved, and respected for time immemorial. The individual was exactly the same - in every single way, to every other single clone. But it, for some reason, had been chosen. (It is unknown why).

Its connection with the moon jellyfish allows it to receive visions of danger - its duty is to protect those around it, those it calls friends. It's friends, who lack any idea what kind of creature it is, call their silly little ooze bunny "It". It is adored, but lack of a shared language cause it's warnings of prophecies to never be understood.

[abyssboo]

I saw an idea somewhere that everyone in boatem is some kind of deity, but like, what if that’s not true or whatever

What if almost everyone is a deity of some kind

Pearl is a watcher and a moon deity(which is why she wasn’t affected by big moon)

Grian is a watcher and a sun deity(Grian = the sun(I think it’s irish))

Impulse is an Imp/demon(I mean it’s so widely accepted I might as well)

Mumbo is some kind of like, eldritch god or something idk, probably that blood god they hear people chant the name of during battle a lot(Mumbo Kills-a-lot Jumbo, it writes itself!)

Keyword, almost everyone

Scar is just a guy who has an omnipotent cat who can tear holes in reality, really strange. Where he even got the cat in the first place? No one knows. He himself tried a few times at being a wizard, but he always reverts back to his capitalism core.

Jellie brought him to the traffic light servers, and 100hrs.

[sebastianshaw]

“God put that rock there for a reason, and I’m not so sure you should move it.”

"Pffft! Allerdyce, as someone who makes his living writing fiction, I'd think you'd understand that it's all made up. What so-called "gods" there are, the Thors and Lokis and so-ons of the worlds, are really no different than a sufficiently powered mutant or alien or modified human. Sometimes less, in fact! Not the omniscient, omnipotent forces of Abrahamic lore. Those, those are as much a creation of man as your novels---and have historically been far more profitable. The price of church indulgences alone, once upon a time! My point is, I'm not letting a mere ROCK get between myself and a profit today. You don't need to help. Just stand back. I'd prefer that, in fact---that way, you have no claim to any share later." And when later did arrive, with all its skyscraper-high tentacles and billions of lamprey-like mouths with spirals of teeth and pulsating jelly-like eyes, from which Pyro and Shaw hid behind another rock, Shaw admitted, as much as Shaw admitted anything, "So, I'm starting to consider that when you said God put it there for a reason you might not have been speaking exactly literally, and I think I do take your actual meaning a bit better now."

@sammysdewysensitiveeyes

[kuhli-fr]

the flights as birds i see on my backyard feeder

Water: the crows who take out all the raisins and then put them in the birdbath, forget they put them in the birdbath, and then the birdbath is saturated with rotten and soggy raisins

Wind: the red belly woodpecker who insists on eating seeds out of the house feeder and completely ignoring the woodpecker specific suet feeder immediately next to them

Fire: the male cardinal in breeding plumage who solemnly eats the leftover safflower seeds at sundown

Earth: the squirrels

Light: mourning doves, iridescent and graceful, parking their wide dove asses on the platform feeder and horking down everything while chasing away the other birds. shit on the seeds, don’t seem to care

Ice: the dark eyed juncos who only come around in the dead of winter. cute little peepers but im pretty sure they commit war crimes in the off season

Arcane: White breasted nuthatch. Always upside down. Always walking like gravity doesn’t exist for them. Tiny beady eyes that have seen infinity and ignored omnipotence for a tasty peanut

Shadow: the oriole feeder that hasn’t seen a single visitor all summer long despite the fact i see those orange fuckers on my hikes. I know you’re out there please eat my jelly

Lightning: the common grackles, always beeping and always poofing. Wild eyed. Hate all other birds but don’t act against them except screeching from the side lines

Plague: the chaotic horde of invasive eurasian house sparrows. They come in vicious packs and devour all in sight. Kill for fun. Would rule the world if they weren’t tiny and cute. 

Nature: the chaotic horde of invasive european starlings. They come in vicious packs and devour all in sight. Shiny but dead inside. A woman on the nextdoor app named Gail described them as “thugs” and “bullies”.

Beastclans: the rebellious raccoon who comes at night and upends my birdbath and scatters the fountain pump in an act of defiance

[bhuvaneshwariarun]

Fill sky vast canvas or thumb nail abstinent arrogance to the last square millimetre; not with just colours of spring summer autumn and loss nor with just contours of animals birds man and life, but with excruciation of as yet ineffable altitudes of mundane earth and embrangled zeros of transcendences and unexpressed meaning, lofty content, trembling omnipotence and stone-hard confidence jelly-wobbling on hesitant conviction.

Art is the permanent X factor, the X fixture; and itself pinpoints nothing at all as the perfect cause, perfect work materials and idealistic rigour of leased out purposes and shallow obsession of inevitable goals as its unfailing and ever-successful X factor.

Quite the flooding mysteries of the mystic and the occult spiritualist, Art too holds everyone at an arm's length, when only worshipped; but reveals all its heights depths and widenesses when embraced in all its body, soul, emotional psychology and spiritual self.