#also yes I DID make the blue fairy taller/bigger than shes supposed to be what are you gonna do about it 😌

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

I cannot wait for Wish to come out this year! Some crossover art with the original wish lady because we love pretty tall women ✨️💙

[secret-engima]

@hamelin-born

*kicks down door* Okay so I’m so sorry you’ve had a bad week, and since I am physically incapable of coming over and giving you a hug, I shall give you bby Dionysus being adorable with his (dead)relatives and Deleantur getting shipped by the local Galahdian bear woman instead!

...

     The man shrugged and played with the edge of his cloak, “You may call me Herodotus. Or,” he added when he saw Dionysus’s face screw up at the long name —so many of his dream relatives had such long names that were hard—, “you can just call me Wander.”

     “Wander?”

     The soft smile grew bigger, mischievous, “It’s a nickname. I’ve never really been the kind of person to stay in one place for very long. Will that suit, Little Traveller?”

     Dionysus mouthed the word, then nodded, “Wander.” He looked around them in curiosity, at the glowing flowers and living magic lights and trees bigger than buildings, “Where are we?”

     “One of my memories,” Wander answered as he leaned back against the tree trunk, “my … safe place I suppose. Though I have had many over the years, this one was my first, so I suppose it is my favorite.”

     “But where?” He’d never seen anything like this outside of storybooks. He wanted to go see it for himself when he woke up next.

     Wander shook his head and looked amused, “I’m sorry, Little Traveler, but this is not a place you can find on Eos.” Dionysus stared at him with big eyes and Wander leaned in with a whisper and a gesture at his cloak, “When I was younger, I met a wonderful group of people who liked to travel as much as I did, and they showed me many things. Some of those were places that you could not, and will never, find on any map of Eos.”

     Dionysus leaned closer, “Like the story of the magic rock that secretly led t’ the world of Hiso Hiso al’ens?”

     Wander’s eyes glittered and his magic that draped around them felt like delighted laughter, “Just like that, yes. But my doorway wasn’t a rock.”

     Dionysus looked all around in awe. He was in a secret world just like in the stories! Or the memory of a secret world anyway. He looked back over at Wander, “Did you fight an evil copy of your frien’? Did the copy try t’ de- delete the whole world ‘till you an’ Serah stopped it an’ saved all the Hiso Hiso?”

     Wander’s shoulders shook a little, then stilled, “No. Nothing quite so exciting. But I did meet a woman with cat ears and a tail, and we did become good friends.” Dionysus gasped in excitement, and when Wander stood up and held out his hand, Dionysus took it without hesitation, “Come on,” Wander chuckled, “I’m afraid I cannot show you any aliens or evil copies, but I can show you a few other places I’ve been that no one on Eos will find.”

     And he did. A few steps into the woods and the trees all turned to hills of sand and shimmering waves of sunny heat. Strange creatures with humps on their backs plodded slowly by in the distance, and in front of them was a tower that reached up to the sky all by itself. Wander told him that it was a dungeon, and that anyone who managed to reach the treasure at the very top would become a king and get magic of their very own. Dionysus asked him if he’d ever done it, if he had dungeon magic, but Wander shook his head and said he already had magic, so he’d let a friend take it instead. They plodded their way through a few shifting steps of sand and suddenly they were out of the hot sand and on an island in the sky. There was a strange ceiling high-high-high above their heads, and Wander told him that this was not one floating island, but a hundred of them all stacked on top of each other, each one just a bit smaller than the last so they didn’t block out all the sunlight for the levels below. Dragons swooped off in the distance, and when Wander led him to the edge and held him tight so he wouldn’t fall, Dionysus leaned over and saw nothing but thick clouds drifting below them.

     They stepped back and the world became an ocean. They stood on the wooden deck of a ship and around them was bright blue water and flapping sails and before them was some kind of creature so big it was an island, it’s long legs plodding slowly through the sea with trees and buildings on its back. Wander told him that talking animals lived on the back of the big creature, and that very few people could find the island unless they were born there because it was always moving. He led Dionysus below decks and then they were on an island with a tree growing in the middle that was so tall and so big it had another, much smaller island sitting in its branches. The air tingled with old-friendly-amused magic that felt like laughter and mysteries, and Wander told him that this was the island of fairies.

     He showed Dionysus a bunch of places, each one different and strange and amazing, each one with a little story to go with it that made Dionysus want desperately to know and explore more until the next one came and he wanted to see that one instead. Wander held his hand the whole time, steady and sure, making sure he never got lost or stepped too close to something dangerous. It was amazing and weird and exciting, and Dionysus decided he liked Wander a lot. Wander was different from the others, even Grandma Crepera. He didn’t seem to have any questions, and he didn’t mind answering all of Dionysus’s. He wasn’t grumpy, or loud, and there was … something about him. About his soft voice and the look in his eyes that reminded Dionysus of his dad.

... (And here’s Deleantur!)

     He sensed someone approach through the outskirts of the crowd. Not that it was easy to miss someone as big as Chief Ligeia considering she stood a head taller than most of the other people here. He tipped his chin to her in greeting as she came to a stop next to him, a mug of something that smelled like alcohol in one hand. She grinned at him, all teeth and good humor, “Going to just watch? Or are you going to go have some fun?”

     Deleantur shrugged and went back to crowd-watching, “I am having fun.” It wasn’t a lie, he found it both fascinating and entertaining to watch the party unfold before him. Galahdians weren’t all that different from the mainland in how they celebrated, but there were differences that were interesting to see. For one thing, there was a lot more dancing and singing. Even people taking a break at the makeshift feasting tables were all but dancing on the benches, feet tapping, heads bobbing- there was never a moment of stillness even from the groups lingering on the outskirts of the party to talk rather than dance.

     The dances themselves were a lot more vibrant and energetic too. There were no royal waltzes here, but circle dances that dragged everyone nearby into them, or spinning dances where partners traded off at dizzying speeds. There was also a vaguely alarming number of somersaults, backflips, and instances of people climbing up trees and rubble like squirrels to better perform an acrobatic flip in time to the music, and not just from the children and the teenagers. He half suspected that the only reason the Elders weren’t doing such stunts were because they were physically too old and arthritic to pull it off.

    Chief Ligeia scoffed, “Just watching is never fun. You should go out there and dance. Don’t want Stella to think you’re ignoring her, do you?”

     Deleantur blinked at her, then glanced into the crowd where Stella was currently spinning and flipping in time with her little brother Eventus like some kind of circus performance rather than a dance for a party, “She knows where to find me if she needs me.”

     Chief Ligeia slapped one of his shoulders hard enough that he had to bite back a hiss, “Not the point. You should be out there dancing with her. It’s good for young people like you two.” Deleantur gave her the flattest look he could manage and barely refrained from telling her that he was currently two thousand years removed from his date of birth —though that distance was technically in reverse—, even if he only looked to be twenty-six. But that wasn’t something he told anyone, especially not a party-happy stranger. Chief Ligeia rolled her eyes, utterly undisturbed by his look, and slapped his shoulder again in an effort to get him moving, “Go on.”

     Deleantur raised an eyebrow and didn’t budge, “Why do you care?”

     The Behemoth of a woman took a long drink from her mug, then answered blithely, “Because Candor is my second cousin and Stella is the best niece I ever had and I want her to be happy. You dancing with her will make her happy. So,” the woman moved with astonishing speed, so fast even Deleantur’s instincts and borrowed experience couldn’t stop her from bodily lifting him by the back of his tunic with one hand and all but toss him into the flow of the crowd, “go dance with her!” Deleantur staggered into the crowd, trying to catch his balance, then yelped as his hands were snatched up by a passing dancer and he was pulled into the flow.

... (and here, have a long snip of Buckler too)

     They camped on the nearest Haven for the night, and Axis cooked dinner without comment while Nox fussed over his uncle and the redhead just sighed and complained about losing his shirts. He listened to them bicker, watched the way their shoulders slowly relaxed the longer Axis went without recoiling from them or acting afraid, and came to a decision. It was a reckless one, a stupid one even but … but it felt like the right one. He hadn’t asked about what happened, or how Ardyn had magic, but he knew what he’d seen and so did they. He knew not just one, but two of their greatest secrets now —that Nox was a Lucis Caelum, that Ardyn was a Lucis Caelum and couldn’t die—.

     In the morning, before they could wander off into the wilderness again, Axis invited —ordered— them to come with him to Meldacio HQ. The two exchanged nervous glances before obediently following him on the trek up to the Vesperpool area.

     If his wife was surprised when Axis turned up a week later with not just Nox in tow, but Niflheim’s Chancellor, she didn’t show it. She just smiled and welcomed them into their tiny house with a gesture and a promise of dinner soon. Nox’s eyes were wide as they shuffled in and Axis had known Ardyn long enough to spot the nervous edge in his sweeping bow.

     Both of them went totally still when they spotted the playpen taking up most of the living room floor, filled with ratty stuffed toys that Axis had either purchased from Outposts or had been gifted by members of his, Tredd’s, and Luche’s Clans. Inside the playpen, Axis’s triplets —his treasures, his children, his greatest and most precious secrets— cooed and babbled eagerly at Axis, waving their hands and crawling around. His last visit hadn’t been that long ago, and they remembered him —the fact that he had been gone for long enough stretches when they were smaller that he’d been a stranger to them would always hurt—. Venia, his smallest and boldest, spotted Nox and Ardyn and babbled at them, fearlessly crawling up to the edge of the playpen to look at them. Axis reached in and picked her up, kissing her forehead and tickling her stomach with a hand to hear her laugh before turning to watch Nox’s and Ardyn’s reactions.

     Nox was still staring at Historia and Spiritus in the playpen, a bright-eyed look on his face and a shiver of power in the air that felt protective. He looked at them like any of Axis’s remaining clan did, or how Tredd and Luche had first looked at them. Awe and protectiveness and already blooming adoration. Axis glanced at Ardyn.

     Ardyn was staring at Venia, and the look on his face took Axis’s breath away. There was pure, open adoration there, wonder and a bright-edged fear, like just being near her would be enough to break her. Venia spotted Ardyn staring, dressed in all his clashing layers and colors, and giggled at him. She had never been afraid of strangers, and she didn’t hesitate to flail her hands in his direction, babbling with all the energy of a healthy nine month old. Ardyn flinched faintly away, even though her hands were nowhere near him, his own hands curling shyly inside his long sleeves like he was terrified of touching her.

     Something in Axis’s heart broke a little.

     No one as unexpectedly kind as Ardyn should fear being near a child.

     “Her name is Venia,” Axis murmured, “that’s her sister Historia, and her brother Spiritus.”

     “They’re so little.” Nox cooed as he crouched just outside the playpen, watching the two babies who stared back with far less fearless curiosity than their sister had —but not outright fear, Axis wondered if they too could feel Nox’s magic swelling around the room, rumbling with protective and already loving emotions—. Porrima reappeared at Axis’s elbow, reaching past him to pluck Spiritus out of the playpen. She gave their guests a considering look, then calmly reached out and plopped their son into Nox’s arms. Nox’s grip tensed, but his arms shifted into a proper position with a speed that looked instinctive, “Hey, wait-!”

     Porrima ignored Nox’s breathless squawk and Spiritus’s wary coo, just picked up Historia and turned to face Ardyn, who had gone stiff as a board and deathly white, “Madam,” Ardyn said tensely, “I don’t think-.”

     “Are you going to hurt them?” Porrima asked.

     Ardyn’s jaw tightened, “Never, but I don’t-.”

     “Are your arms so weak you’ll drop her?”

     “No, but-.”

     “Are you sick?”

     Ardyn shook his head but kept shying subtly back, “I-.”

     Axis sighed at his wife as she exchanged Historia for Venia, then turned and fearlessly stepped into Ardyn’s space to put their boldest daughter in the arms of Niflheim’s Chancellor —and the king’s unknown relative—. Ardyn went stone still as soon as Venia was in his arms, hands cradling her like she was fragile as glass and his eyes huge. Axis bounced Historia in his arms a little as he scolded, “Porrima. Don’t force them to hold the children if they don’t want to.”

     “But they do want to, and it’s good for the triplets to meet new safe people,” his wife sniffed back. Then she flitted back to the kitchen without waiting to see the fallout of her actions.

     Sometimes his wife trusted his judgement and choice of houseguests a little too much.

     Axis sidled closer to Ardyn and held out an arm, “I can take her back if this really makes you uncomfortable.”

     Ardyn stared down at Venia with the roundest eyes Axis had ever seen. Venia blinked up at her new handler, looked over at her dad, then looked back at Ardyn and clumsily patted his cheek, grabbing curiously at his red-violet hair a moment later. Ardyn inhaled, and Axis felt a second magic flood the room, old and powerful and monstrously protective. Where Nox’s was deep like the ocean, powerful but … subtle, like currents under the surface, Ardyn’s magic felt wild. It felt like the ripple of spotted fur in the jungle, the glimpse of fangs and teeth of a feral beast. Nox’s protective adoration of the little boy he was bouncing in his arms was like the pull of the tide, sweeping in and out with each breath, but Ardyn’s-. Ardyn’s was the rumble of a Coeurl’s purr as it curled around its cub, the singing edge of bloody steel, promising death to anyone that so much as looked wrong at Axis’s triplets.

     Ardyn very slowly sank down onto the floor, legs crossed to form a lap for Venia to flop on, and when he looked up at Axis, his normally blue eyes were a brilliant, Coeurl gold, “They’re beautiful.” He whispered hoarsely.

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Black Swan

Chapter 5

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 4418

Chapter: 5/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Baz and Simon get to know each other more.

Read on AO3

AN: Sorry for posting so late. I had actual irl friends over lol. Hope you guys like this. It's short but has some necessary information.

———————————————

“And if you get up on higher ground,” Simon yelled, “you’ve got an advantage over your opponent.”

Simon hopped on the small collection of rocks just in time to parry Baz’s thrust. Baz didn’t stumble back. He had gotten a lot better at holding his own and staying steady. Though a lot of his skill did still come in his precise eye. He still went for accurate moves rather than Simon’s strong but wild slashes and thrusts. It was like a roaring flame versus creeping ice. Simon’s former last name seemed very apt.

“I think you just like being taller for once,” Baz said.

Simon’s mouth dropped open in offended disbelief. “You’re not even a head taller than me!”

“That still makes you shorter.”

Simon growled and hit Baz’s stick hard. But Baz wasn’t knocked off balance. He held his ground. And Simon could see a glint in his eye. Something suddenly worked out in his big scholar brain. Before he knew it, Simon was being jabbed just under his rib, and all the wind flew right out of his lungs. He stumbled back on instinct, and soon there wasn’t anything under his feet. He landed on the ground with a painful thud, and his head hit with an even more painful crack. Simon groaned and rubbed his aching skull. When he opened his eyes, Baz was looming over him, stick pointing down, smirk playing on his mouth.

“My point,” he drawled with more than enough smugness. “Maybe the higher ground isn’t always an advantage.”

“Prick,” Simon grumbled. “At least help me up?”

Simon reached up, and Baz rolled his eyes, but took his hand anyway. He used all his considerable strength to haul Simon to his feet. Simon was still astounded by how strong Baz was. It made his heartbeat skip for a moment. Which was odd. That had never happened before.

“What’s the match count now?” Baz asked.

Simon shrugged. “Um, I think it’s twenty six for me and four for you.”

Baz’s eyes narrowed, frowning slightly. It was easy with the way his lips were shaped. Simon was pretty sure his face was made for pouting. “That can’t be right.”

“I’m the real sword fighter, remember?”

“With the coordination of a charging ox.”

Simon shrugged again. “Hate it all you want, but I’m still beating you.”

“I don’t like to lose,” Baz muttered, most probably to himself. Simon had certainly learned that. For someone who’d had limited company for probably years before Simon, he was insanely competitive. He wanted to be the best. Simon wondered if Baz competed with the other swans before he showed up.

Baz stuck his stick in the ground and stretched his arms to the sky. Simon’s eyes were drawn to the way his lithe back curved for a moment, but he quickly looked away. When Baz dropped his stick, Simon knew that meant sparring was over. He did the same, then followed Baz to the edge of the lake. Baz sat cross legged just as a swan came close. Baz ushered it closer. The bird came out of the water and laid itself in Baz’s lap without hesitation. He petted it’s feathers softly. Simon had only ever seen this sort of kindness in Baz when he was with a swan.

“You really like those birds, huh?” Simon said.

Baz gave one brief nod. “They’re very sweet, in reality. And...they’ve been good company all these years.”

Simon smiled slightly. It was good, that Baz had company. Curiosity overwhelmed him, as it tended to. He reached towards the swan cautiously, just hoping to pet it’s head. But it instantly stretched forward and honked at Simon, almost biting his finger. The sound was so strange and loud that Simon yelped in response. He fell onto his back, staring at the starry sky, instinctively clutching the hand that was almost de-fingered.

There was a strange noise. Tiny little sounds that Simon had never heard before in this lake. He looked up to see Baz hunched over, shoulders shaking, giggling. Fucking giggling. It was so strange, yet incredible. His grey eyes crinkled at the corners, thin mouth stretching so much bigger. He looked far less like the stern statue or smirking asshole Simon had come to know. He looked far more...human.

“Stop laughing at me,” Simon grumbled, pushing himself up to sitting once more.

“I wouldn’t be laughing if it wasn’t so funny,” he said while still sputtering slightly. “Did you never learn to not approach wild animals?”

Simon huffed. “If I knew that, I never would’ve found you.”

“Hm, true enough.” He went back to petting his bird. “She’s actually very sweet. She just has to get to know you.” He scratched under beak. The sound she made was probably the closest a swan could get to a purr. Baz smiled. “See? A complete darling.”

Simon couldn’t help but smile himself. It was far too sweet not to. Baz really was far more than what he’d first appeared to be. And Simon knew he deserved more than what he was stuck with.

“So, uh, Baz,” Simon said slowly, “I’ve been talking to my friend.”

“Good for you,” Baz replied, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Oh, fuck off. What I mean is that she’s a mage too, and she’s really smart. So I asked her and she told me stuff. About curses.”

Baz’s back went ramrod straight. He was so quick it almost spooked his avian companion, who flapped her wings and honked in protest. Baz calmed her down with petting again.

“I see,” he said quietly. “What did she say?”

———————————————

“Curses?” Penny said, still blinking sleep from her eyes. “You want to know what I know about curses?”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Yeah, yes please.”

Penny gave him a disbelieving, annoyed look over her spectacles. “Seriously?”

“Yes!”

“But why?!”

Simon froze up. Shit. He hadn’t thought this far into the conversation. He stared at Penny for a ridiculously long time. Penny got more and more frustrated, her face pulling more and more together, like someone was pinching it together.

“Simon-”

“I’m curious,” Simon blurted out.

Penny’s gaze got even more critical. “You’re curious?”

“Yeah. W-We never learned about curses in school. I wanna know more, about them.”

“At the crack of dawn?”

“...yes.”

Penny eyed him up and down. Simon hoped his deception wasn’t showing. It wasn’t even really a deception really. More like, omitting some of the truth. He was curious, he did want to know more about them. But it was for a specific reason. For a specific person.

She shook her head, and gestured Simon inside. “Get your stupid arse in here.”

Simon scurried inside. Penny quietly closed the door behind him. They were opposite each other. Penny sat with her legs and arms crossed in the wooden chair. Simon sat on the sofa, knee bouncing up in down.

“So, curses,” Penny said, “what do you want to know?”

“Everything,” Simon blurted out. “I-I need to know everything.”

Penny groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Gods, Simon, you’re seriously going to be the death of me. Fine. Curses, here’s what I know.” She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Curses are one of the most ancient form of magic. They involve trapping someone somewhere or changing them to be however the caster desires. Usually, it was used as a form of punishment, vengeance, or to teach a person a lesson. Like cursing an arrogant prince to be ugly so he learns humility.”

Simon nodded along. “Okay, cool. They’re not used a lot anymore, right?”

“Yeah, no one curses anyone anymore. It’s stupid.”

“But why?”

“Because curses are dumb. They’re overly complicated to create, hard to cast, and really not that useful. Look at those fairy tales you love, Si. The curse is always broken and the caster gets punished. That’s accurate to the olden days. Curses were never effective. They were always broken eventually, because they had to be.”

Simon’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Penny sighed. “Curses are powerful magic, Si. Taking that much power for too long could cause serious damage to the magical atmosphere. There has to be a safety measure so that power can return. So no matter how much you hate a person and want them to suffer, a curse will always have a means of escape.”

“Really? Always?!” Simon’s heart was beating two fold. He was excited. There was hope. There was hope for Baz.

Penny nodded. “Yeah, always. Any case of someone trying to cast a permanent curse backfired on them horrifically. I guess it’s magic’s way of making sure we put in that safety measure.”

“Okay, okay. How do you break curses?”

“Ah, that I actually don’t know.”

Simon was very shocked. He wasn’t used to Penny not knowing something. It was rarer than a blue moon. “You don’t know?”

Penny made a funny face, twisting her lips and tapping her fingers. “Well, I know there’s some universal curse breaking stuff, like a generic reversal potion or true love’s kiss. But that’s basic shite. If the mage is clever, the way to break the curse will be specific. Like you’re forced to dance every night and someone has to match your steps for the curse to be broken. Shit like that.”

“Okay, got it.” Simon scratched his chin like some thoughtful scholar. “So, if I want to break a specific curse, how would I find out how to do that?”

Her eyes get very suspicious. “Simon, what is this really about?”

Simon didn’t want to lie to Penny. He hated the idea of lying to his best friend. But he also knew Baz was supposed to be hidden. It was already a huge risk for Simon to know about him. Another person knowing could be dangerous. Simon didn’t want to put Baz in more danger. If this all worked out, he’d apologize to Penny later and beg for her forgiveness.

“David is trying to help my magic development,” he said. “He gave me this hypothetical about someone who’s been cursed. It’s stupid so I didn’t want to talk about it before.”

Penny still didn’t look convinced. Simon gulped down the massive lump in his throat. His palms were definitely sweating. He wasn’t good at lying. Penny knew that. But Simon stayed resolute, because he wanted to protect Baz.

“Alright,” she sighed. “I get it, David likes to mess with you.”

Simon tried to hide his relief. He nodded rapidly. “Yeah, he’s trying to challenge me.”

“Sure, whatever. Anything else I can do to help you solve this?”

He twisted his mouth and drummed his fingers. He looked up at her with a kind smile. “Got any books I could borrow?”

———————————————

“And she gave me these.” Simon took the large volumes out of his old, slowly falling apart rucksack. It was only a few of the books Penny had leant him from her family’s extensive library. They had stuff even the royal library didn’t have. If anything could help, Bunce family books would.

Baz took one of the books, running a hand over it. His expression was still blank and bored. He didn’t seem as interested as he should be. This could break his curse and set him free. Shouldn’t he be excited?

“I see,” he said. “You think the answer to my curse could be in one of these books?”

“Maybe.” Baz gave a skeptical look. Simon pulled in on himself. “I-I can’t be sure. Penny said there’s no ‘curse encyclopedia’ with every possible curse in it. We just have to look.”

Baz made a complicated face. Eyebrows knitted together, pouty lips downturned, but his eyes didn’t look angry or sad. Simon could almost swear he looked worried. Almost scared. But that couldn’t be right. What did Baz have to be worried about? This was a good thing. This was a chance for him to escape.

“Very well,” he said. “We better start reading then.”

Baz opened the book, carefully balancing it on his knee, away from his now sleeping pet swan. Simon simply nodded and opened his own book. The two fell into companionable silence. Simon tried to focus on the pages, but his eyes drifted upwards every once in awhile. Every time, Baz was still reading, and his face was still blank. But Simon still liked to look at him. Maybe it was some irrational fear over Baz suddenly disappearing. Maybe it was just because he was nice to look at. Simon didn’t think about it too much, and went back to reading.

———————————————

“Good gods, Simon,” David barked. “You look like a mess.”

Good morning to you too, Davy, Simon wanted to snap. Why the king thought that was a good way to greet his adopted son was beyond him. He did look like a mess though, but he had for weeks. The fact that David was only noticing now spoke volumes about his relationship with Simon.

“Apologies, Father,” Simon said quietly.

“Why do you look so disheveled?”

Because I’ve been spending most of my nights with a swan boy and the few hours I do sleep are plagued with weird nightmares, he thought. Saying it in his mind helped him resist the urge to say it out loud. “I’ve just been studying hard, that’s all. Working on my magic control.”

David shook his head. He did that a lot with Simon. “Very well. That is an area you definitely lack in.” Simon flinched slightly at the bite in his voice. David turned and gestured for Simon to follow.” Let’s get going. There’s someone you must see. Fix your jacket before we arrive.”

Simon trailed behind David, re-buttoning his brocade jacket as they went. Who would David want him to see? A visiting diplomat? Some influential lord? Either way, Simon was dfar too tired to deal with them.

They entered the grand hall together. Simon hand to bend around David to see. But when he did, a smile immediately burst across his face.

“Aggie!” He yelled. His heart immediately felt light and happy. Agatha grinned back at him. She looked amazing. Her skin was beautifully tanned, hair sun bleached near white. Obviously the far southern coast had treated her well. But he’d missed her so much, and he was so happy to her again.

Simon ran forward, eager to wrap his arms around his friends. Agatha ran as well. But that was quickly stopped.

“Simon!” David barked. “Behave yourself.”

“Agatha,” Lady Wellbelove said gravely.

Both the prince and the lady stopped in their tracks, though slid a bit on the polished floor. Simon hung his head with arms behind his back.

“Sorry, Father,” Simon said quietly.

“Apologies, Mother,” Agatha echoed.

“Greet the young Lady Wellbelove properly, Simon.”

Simon nodded. He straightened his posture, put one arm behind his back and the other over his stomach, and bowed deeply. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Lady Wellbelove. I hope you enjoyed your excursion.”

Agatha in turn held her skirt in both hands and curtsied properly. “Thank you, your highness. It’s an honour to be in your presence.”

That hit Simon in the gut. It shouldn’t be an honour for Agatha to see him. It should be normal. They were inseparable at school. Roght ow it felt like there was a wall of glass between them. They could see each other, but were forced apart. Simon hated that.

They straightened up, facing each other again. David and Lady Wellbelove had moved to right behind them both. David put a firm hand on Simon’s shoulder.

“We’re very happy to have you back in court, your ladyship,” he said. “We have much to discuss, Lady Wellbelove. Simon, you should show the young Lady around the castle. There have been some improvements she should see.”

Simon nodded. “Of course, Father.” Simon offered his arm like how he was taught. Agatha took it like she was taught. “Shall we, my lady?”

“We shall,” Agatha replied.

The pair walked off towards the main exit. Simon turned his head back slightly. He saw David and Lady Wellbelove with their heads together. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, it caused a rare smile on the king’s face. He turned back, and tried to think nothing of it.

Once Simon and Agatha were far out of sight and earshot, there was no more need for the glass wall. Simon wrapped his arms around Agatha in a crushing bear hug. He held her so tight her feet lifted from the ground. Agatha giggled and hugged him back just as hard.

“So glad you’re back, Aggie,” he said, muffled in her shoulder.

Agatha giggled. “Happy to be back, Si.”

He put her down, but hugged her for a bit longer. He was just so happy to see her after months away. He knew she wanted to go somewhere new after graduating school, but still, it hurt to not have her around. He missed his friend. They eventually pulled apart, enormous smiles on their faces.

“How have you been, Si?” she asked. “So much must’ve changed. Your hair has somehow gotten more wild.”

She ruffled his curls. He chuckled and playfully pushed her hand away. “Stop it, Ags. If someone points it out to David, he’ll make me cut it.”

“Oh what a tragedy. Simon Snow looking all courtly and royal.”

Simon grinned, both because of her teasing and her using his name. She liked to do that. It was her small way of telling Simon he was more than a prince to her. That his original name wasn’t totally gone just because King David said so.

“It would look terrible on me, trust me.” He offered his hand. Agatha took it. They walked down the grand hall together, swinging their arms back and forth. “So how was the south coast?”

Agatha sighed dreamily. “Oh, it was magical. The sea was sparkling blue, the sand was bright white, just gorgeous. I’d be happy staying there forever.”

Simon grinned. His heart felt warm. He was happy when his friends were happy. “Sounds incredible. I would love to see it one day. If David ever lets me out of princely duties.”

Simon meant it to be a joke, but Agatha’s face suddenly fell. Her pretty pink lips pressed together. She held Simon’s hand tighter. “Ags? What’s wrong? You alright?”

Agatha sighed heavily, then stopped out of nowhere. Simon stopped with her of course. She took his other hand. “Simon,” she said quietly, “do you know why I’m back?”

“Because...your trip is done. Right?”

“No,” she sighed, “it wasn’t. I was supposed to stay for another eight weeks. But Mother said I had to come back now. Before the winter ball.”

That was...weird. The winter ball? That was a fun court event, sure, but hardly a reason to cut a trip short. “W-Why?”

Agatha’s face got even more tense. She pulled Simon to a nearby stone bench. They sat together on the cold rock under a grand landscape picture of the countryside. It felt far too cheery for what seemed to be solemn conversation.

“Simon,” Agatha said, “my parents have been talking to King David a lot. All three have apparently agreed that the two of us, we’d be a good match. For marriage. And they want to announce the engagement at the winter ball.”

The world stopped spinning for a long moment. Simon felt his stomach drop, the whole organ plummeting down into the depths of the Earth itself. He knew he was looking at Agatha with incredibly wide eyes and mouth so large he’d catch flies. He just...he couldn’t believe it.

“What!?” he shouted. “They...they’re seriously planning for that?”

Agatha nodded solemnly. “That’s what my Mum says. They think that because we’re friends we’d make a good arranged match. I’m from a good noble house too, which helps. And, well, our children would have noble blood because of me. The court would like that.”

Because I’m still a commoner at heart, Simon thought. It was a painful but grounding truth. Dress him up in fancy coats, give him a crown, call him Prince, but deep down the court would always still think of him as Simon Snow, the little orphan with a rough accent and poor blood. Simon couldn’t blame them. He still thought of himself that way too. The only difference was that Simon never saw it as a bad thing.

Simon found himself nodding as well. “I see. But, Aggie, I just, I don’t, I’ve never thought-”

“Of me in that way?” Agatha ran a comforting hand over Simon’s. “Don’t worry, Si, me neither. I mean, I thought I did. We both did. But we both know how that worked out.”

Simon chuckled under his breath. Yeah, that embarrassment came back to haunt him occasionally. Memories of Agatha and Simon as two awkward fifteen year olds, holding hands for the first time, trying to make feelings they didn’t have magically appear, because everyone said they were cute. Other students cooed and awed. That didn’t help at all. But when the two finally kissed, just a sweet short peck, Agatha had been the first to say she didn’t feel anything. Simon had been relieved, because he didn’t feel anything either. They went back to friends, and it was the best decision they ever made. And now, they were being forced together once more. But this time there probably wouldn’t be a way out of it.

“Fuck,” Simon breathed. “This is bad.”

“Yeah agreed,” Agatha added.

“I’m not sure what to do.”

“Me neither."

Simon scratched his head. "We could ask Penny. She usually has the answers.”

“When it comes to magic? Yes. When it comes to matter of court? I don’t think so.”

They giggled. It was quiet, private. A joke between friends. That was all they were meant to be, friends. Simon knew that, as did Agatha. But here they were. Once they were done, both leaned against the wall, still holding hands.

“I don’t want this,” Agatha whispered, voice slightly strained, slightly angereed. “I don’t want to be the prize for a good deal my parents made with the king. I want to be with someone who chose me. I want them to love me. It sounds stupid, but...I want to be someone’s everything.”

Simon squeezed her hand. “It’s not stupid, Ags. I want someone to love me too. Hell, I definitely wouldn’t mind being someone’s everything.”

“Right? It would be fantastic. I’ve never felt anything close to that yet though. Have you?”

Simon shook his head. He couldn’t say he had. No one had ever made him feel like he was their everything. And no one had ever felt close to being his. The closest thing he’d had to that feeling, well, his obsession with finding Baz. The way it consumed his every waking thought and occasionally his sleeping ones to. But that was it. And that wasn’t an everything feeling, right?

“We should probably get back to them,” Agatha said. Simon could hear the sadness in her words. He squeezed her hand once more.

“Yeah. Not just yet, though.”

The corner of Agatha’s lip quirked up. “Okat not yet.”

And so the best friends sat there. Silent, worried, but happy to be next to each other again.

———————————————

Agatha and Lady Wellbelove left shortly after. Simon bid them proper farewells, a far cry from the crushing goodbye hug he gave Agatha before entering the ballroom again. Then he was brought with David into the King’s Study. David sat in his satin chair behind the large oak desk. Even though he was the one standing, Simon felt incredibly small.

“So,” David said smoothly, “I trust the young Lady Wellbelove has already informed you of the reason for her early arrival.” Simon nodded once. “Good. Then this discussion will be brief. There still needs to be some more negotiations, so the engagement announcement will be held off on until the winter ball.”

“Father, I-” Simon took a deep breath, trying to smooth out his cluttered thoughts. “Father, Aga- the Young Lady Wellbelove and I discussed this. And, to be honest...neither of us want this engagement. We’re very close friends but we aren’t in love each other like. We’d prefer it not to happen.”

David scoffed. Simon’s heart sank. “Love?” The King said the word like it was a terrible disease. “Simon, love is not important here. I’m creating a new laws, new ideals, a new dynasty. It will be your job to continue it, to make sure it goes beyond even the Pitches.” He said the old royal name with the same inflection as love. “So if marrying a friend you’re not in love with will assure that, so be it.”

“But, David-!”

“No buts, Simon. You can’t think with your heart. I haven’t, not ever, and look at all I’ve achieved.” He stretched both his arms out, indicating his beautiful study with lots of fancy cloths, shiny metals, and big books. All things Simon didn’t even like. “This will be good for us. And remember, I’m always ‘Father’, not David. I chose working for the good of the people over wife and child, so now I must have you, a ward. And we have to maintain the illusion of a bloodline. But a real, legitimate, noble one can happen with Lady Wellbelove. Your engagement will happen.” He sat back down, one leg crossed over the other. “That will be all, Simon. You’re dismissed.” He waved dismissively.

Simon’s anger spiked, and his skin burned with magic in response. He was pretty sure he would leave fingerprint shaped char marks in the wood. There was so much he wanted to say, but every word got clogged up in his throat. He felt stupid, useless, something David did to him far too much. The forgiving part of him reminded Simon that David still took him in. But he was so fucking angry right now.

“Bye, Father,” he spat, then turned on his heels and stormed out.

Simon stomped down the echoey hallways, grumbling and wiping furious tears from his eyes. He was so angry. Angry at David, at court, at his position, at every stupid thing this stupid princehood entailed. Never had he wanted to be a real commoner again more than right now. He couldn’t do that now. But tonight, while he sat in a lake with a mysterious boy, he would be. Simon could not wait until the sun set.

———————————————

AN: Another short chapter, but some plot advancement! The whole engagement thing will be explored more in the next chapter. Since I'm posting a fic for Baz's birthday next Monday, I'll be posting Chapter 6 on Tuesday instead. So a little longer wait, sorry. I'll see you guys next time :D

EDIT: I'm an idiot who cannot tell time. Baz's birthday is on Sunday not Monday so nvm I'll be posting the next chapter on Monday as usual :)

[superfreakerz]

TDDUP 1

"Til Death Do Us Part"

Rated M for smut.

Immortal/Reincarnation AU.

Summary: There are immortals and there are those who reincarnate, though it's best to keep these things hidden. Lucy is attending college and meets Natsu, a mischievous boy with pink hair, a devilish smile, and a body that never ages.

So, I'm here with a new story, one that I'm anxious about. I've never written anything like this but eh worth a shot am I right?

Chapter 1

Reincarnation and Immortality

Congratulations! You've been accepted into the University of Magnolia!

Lucy released a sigh, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she stared at the letter sitting on her desk. The letter went on to explain how wonderful her time at their school would be and why she made a good choice to receive higher education there. Or rather, choosing to blow all of her money on tuition and books there. The only useful information in the letter was her school schedule, which had already been decided upon her admission, and when school would start this year.

Lucy wrote down her schedule and the date school started before crumpling up the letter and tossing it in the trash. Most people kept their admission letters framed as signs of success after years of hard work, or at least kept it safely stashed away somewhere. After all, that's what she had done with her first admission letter. But that was lifetimes ago. Literally.

While most people tried to live their best lives knowing they only had one chance, Lucy was different. She had no idea why and doing research proved to be fruitless, but for some reason, she had been reincarnated every time she died, all the while retaining her memories.

It was horrifying at first. In Lucy's first life, she had a wonderful family and friends, only for it all to come to an abrupt end in a car accident. Before her death, she had often wondered what death would be like. She always pictured the light at the end of a tunnel, ushering her into the pearly white gates of Heaven, where she could rest with all of her loved ones that had already passed on. She even pictured being a ghost, watching over everyone she had left behind.

Never did she picture that she would wake up moments later, crying and covered in blood as she was just born again.

Sure, she played with the idea of reincarnation. After all, writing was her passion, of course she would drabble with the idea. Though, she never thought that she would actually remember everything from her past life.

Lucy's phone suddenly rang, startling her out of her thoughts. Clicking the green icon, the girl pulled her phone to her ear.

"Hey, Levy-chan!" she said. "What's up?"

"Lu-chan! My shift just ended. Let's hang out!" the other girl exclaimed.

"Sure! Our usual spot?"

"Duh! I'll see you there! Bye!"

"Bye!"

Lucy hung up and walked towards her closet. No matter what life she was living, the girl always chose to wear more revealing clothes. It suited her best.

With summer's crippling heat, Lucy chose to wear a white dress that went mid-thigh and showed a generous amount of cleavage. Since it was her first time going out in weeks, the girl decided to curl her hair and apply a thin layer of makeup before heading out the door.

In this lifetime, Lucy was born in a small merchant city called Acalypha in the nation of Fiore. In her last life, she was born and raised in Alvarez, the neighboring country. She was currently living her fourth life, so she knew the procedure by now.

During Lucy's second life, she was adamant on getting close to anyone, feeling as though she was betraying her previous family and friends. The notion stuck with her, and she was only able to make a few friends over the next three of her lifetimes. So far, she had only made one friend during this lifetime, a snarky, petite girl by the name of Levy.

Reaching the smoothie shop, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief once she felt the cool air from the air-conditioning. It didn't take long to find Levy as her hair was a bright shade of blue. She was sitting in the far corner, away from everyone else.

"Lu-chan! I got your smoothie already!" Levy said, waving her down.

Lucy nodded at the other girl and grinned ear-to-ear. "Thanks, Levy-chan. How was work?"

"Oh, the usual. I just spent my time reading." Levy worked as a librarian's assistant, re-shelving books and managing check-outs.

Levy was a nice girl. They had met at the library she worked in and bonded immediately over their love of books. Lucy didn't know much of the other girl's home life, but she knew that she had a boyfriend, Gajeel, who for some reason hated her guts.

Gajeel was a menacing guy with long locks of unruly black hair. His skin was covered in piercings, enough to make Lucy wonder how he managed at airports. Added to his piercings and wild hair, the guy was also much taller than her, looming over her with ease and staring down at her with his intimidatingly red eyes. Not to mention his muscles were bigger than her head.

All in all, she couldn't see how sweet, innocent Levy could be with someone as scary as Gajeel, but she didn't question it.

"So, did you ever hear from the university?" Levy asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Oh, yeah. I got in," Lucy answered with a shrug. She wasn't really interested in which school she attended, she only chose this one because Levy was there, and it was close to home.

"That's wonderful, Lu-chan! We need to celebrate!"

"Ehh, it's fine. I don't think it's that big of a deal."

"That big of a deal? C'mon, Lu-chan! You only go to college, once! This is a big step!"

Lucy sighed and turned her gaze out the window. "Only once, huh…"

Being reincarnated took the excitement out of life. Things that were supposed to be exciting became routine. It was a curse, one she had wanted to escape from.

She hoped this life would be her last.

"Lu-chan?" Levy called out, her brows drooping in concern.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I was spacing out," Lucy replied, forcing a smile to her face. "Anyways, tell me more about-"

"Levy," a familiar, gruff voice called out.

Lucy squeaked and sat straight as a board, nervously turning her head to face Gajeel. The boy moved his gaze from Levy towards her, downright glaring at her.

"Seriously, what did I do to make this guy hate me so much?" Lucy wondered, awkwardly chuckling.

"Let's go," Gajeel said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"But Gajeel-!"

"No buts. Erza told me to get you and I'm not going back to that demon empty-handed."

Levy sighed, turning towards Lucy with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Lu-chan. I have to go now."

"It's fine," the blonde assured, waving her off. She wasn't exactly in the mood to hangout anymore anyways.

There was something strange about Levy. Lucy couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was something off about her. As close as the two girls seemed to be, they never shared any intimate secrets or hung out for long periods. Even though Levy knew where Lucy lived, Lucy had no idea where Levy spent her days when she wasn't at school or work. And Gajeel was always the one to take Levy away, glaring at Lucy as he did.

Still, everyone was allowed to their own secrets. Lucy knew she sure had her own.

"I don't see what your guys' problem with Lu-chan is," Levy said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her brows slanted with irritation, upset that her time with Lucy was cut short yet again.

"Yes you do, you just choose to ignore it," Gajeel replied, opening the grand doors to Fairy Tail. There, everyone waited inside at their usual table in the far corner away from everyone else.

"Okay, fine. But Lu-chan is a really sweet girl, you could at least be a little nicer to her."

Gajeel scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You know being nice to mortals just gets you hurt."

Levy huffed and walked towards the table. Erza, sitting at the head of the table, gave her a pointed stare through her scarlet bangs. The girl had always been strict and adamant on speaking to the mortals, never trusting them. Not that anyone could blame her after her traumatic childhood.

Jellal sat beside her. While he, too, was wary of mortals as he shared the same past as Erza, he wasn't as stout as the girl. Still, he warned of the dangers of getting to close to them, saying that they led different lives.

Across from the pair sat Natsu at the other end of the table. He was scarfing food down his throat, never one to care about who associated with who. Sure, he didn't associate with the mortals just as the others, but his reasoning was different. He was fine with the friends that he had and didn't see the need in conversing with anyone else. Besides, he preferred hanging out with people that understood him.

On the side opposite of Levy and Gajeel sat Gray and Juvia. The two were similar to Natsu, in that they knew good mortals existed but preferred to stick to what they knew. What they were comfortable with.

That just left Levy.

"I thought I made it clear you should stop associating with that girl," Erza said. Sighing, she continued, "You're the smartest one here, Levy. You should know better."

"But Lu-chan is really nice and she's a good person," the blue-headed girl protested meekly. "She would never do anything to hurt us."

"And what happens if you get too close? She'll notice that you don't age eventually."

"I don't know… I don't want to hide from the mortals anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"It's not that I'm going to go show the world that I'm immortal or anything. I just don't want to cut out the thought of making new friends. Lu-chan is nice, and I think you guys would like her too."

Erza sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to make any progress with Levy. Though her body was small, her resolve wasn't. Besides, as strict as she was, she didn't want to police people's lives and strip away their freedoms. Not after what she'd been through.

"Just be careful, alright?" the redhead requested.

Natsu watched as Levy nodded and with that, the conversation steered into more normal topics. He didn't understand Levy's fascination with the mortals. Sure, he wasn't scared of them or anything, but wasn't it better to hang out with people who shared your circumstances?

Natsu leaned back in his chair and took in his surroundings. At first glance, it would look like any other pub- Magnolia was full of them. But in truth, it was home to many immortals, trying to live the best lives they could.

Having an infinite life wasn't all cracked up as people thought it to be. Sure, it was cool to watch his wounds heal themselves as refusal to let him go, and it was nice to be able to spend every day with his friends. But only few were cursed with being immortal.

Natsu tugged at the ends of his scaly scarf wrapped around his neck. It was lonely at times, watching as the mortals lived their lives and grew up with those close to them. Making friends was damn near impossible, which was why the boy was glad Makarov found him and brought him to Fairy Tail in the first place.

Unfortunately, it was their turn to go to school. Fairy Tail members took turns going to school to prevent anyone from finding out their secret. Immortals had to wait one hundred years before they could return. By then, everyone they had met in college before would have passed away and been replaced with fresh teachers and students that would have no chance at recognizing them.

Immortality didn't leave Natsu and the others much freedom in life. It was like a curse that haunted them every day, following them around as their shackles.

Natsu glanced down at his scarf, the corners of his lips curling downwards into a frown. Just as he did every day, he wondered what it was like to die. Not that it mattered. He would never find the answer.

[baconwaffle2016]

NNT Ship Week, Day 7: Free-for-all (MeliodasxGoddess!Elizabeth)

So...this is another snippet written a few months ago, not too long after writing this little hot mess on FF.net. Considering that, this was written before all the recent chapters, so it’s pretty much Canon Divergence at this point.

Please also take note: This is still right at the beginning of their relationship. So they’re not completely mature about certain decisions and thoughts, because...well, that’s sometimes how first love is.

And: Yes, it’s supposed to take place in the same universe. No, this isn’t all there is to it--I still have to finish the other parts.

Hope you enjoy~

They are worst kept secret within the goddess realm. In all the realms, really.

 When not fighting in the Holy War, they are often seen close together. Even when they’re not seen, the common assumption is that they are together in some capacity--and it’s true.

 Deep, devouring kisses stolen behind the closed and often locked doors of her study, often resulting in rumpled clothing and marks left on body parts that aren’t always seen; fingers lacing together, as a form of comfort or just because; late dinners for two, often in Britannia and the Fairy Realm, where they get less stares; sleeping together--now more at her place, because she has the bigger bed--often in a cuddle where she drools on his chest, and where he is overwhelmed with her warmth and scent; waking up together and getting ready to face the day.

 Even without that, there are the shared smiles and looks, the sort that indicates the sort of synchronization only allowed through some form of intimacy. It is so ridiculously sweet and lovesick, it makes many sick just looking at it. There is literally no way no one can know what is going on.

 So, why, Elizabeth frowns deeply, narrowing her eyes onto the scene across the ballroom. Hasn’t this...this witch gotten the memo?

Elizabeth and Meliodas are at a party being held in one of Britannia’s richest kingdoms, both in finances and magic users. As an unofficial ambassador for Stigma and the Goddess Clan, Elizabeth had been tasked with building relations for any kingdom that was willing to help and this kingdom was just one of the few successes she’s had so far. Going to this dinner party, hosted by the boisterous King and steel-eyed Queen, is merely a formality--one that Elizabeth and Meliodas had accepted right away, as lovers of the occasional celebration.

 The “witch” in question is a rather beautiful noblewoman from this kingdom. She is an inch or so taller than Meliodas, with long red hair and deep brown eyes that eye him like he’s her next meal. She licks at her painted red lips and nearly arches her chest--her breasts looking ample enough to almost spill from that purple ball gown she’s wearing--into Meliodas’ view. Elizabeth watches as Meliodas quirks an eyebrow at the display, but not in appraisal; rather, he leans away, while pasting on a genteel smile as he speaks to the woman in question. Seeing that makes her stomach twist; he is clearly uncomfortable.

 Now, Elizabeth isn’t the type to talk down to a woman out of jealousy. In fact, she is rarely the type of person to feel jealous at all--that’s more Meliodas’ schtick--but she finds it...concerning that this woman hasn’t gotten the hint that others in the party got when he and Elizabeth walked in together. Not only does Meliodas not like her, or any other woman here, but he is clearly spoken for.

 Perhaps, Elizabeth considers with a shrewd look as she takes a last sip at her wine, I will inform her.

 After placing her glass back on the table, Elizabeth strides across the room to where Meliodas and the woman are. She is wearing an off-the-shoulder dress that is black, but shimmering with jewels that resemble stars on a night sky, and is tight to the curves of her body that flows out into a cloud soft skirt along her long legs. It is a dress that draws many to Elizabeth, eyes soaking in how the bust presses her breasts together, how her back is left bare and smooth--her wings have been glamored, while her hair is left in its natural silver--and how her hips sway as she walks.

 It gives an air of mystery to Elizabeth, something seductive and graceful; something she usually isn’t. And she’s glad for it, glad to see that it gave her the impression she wanted; but she’s even happier to know she holds his attention most.

 Like now: Meliodas looks away from the noblewoman speaking to him, and his green eyes find Elizabeth immediately. Practiced as he is in such courtly meetings, Meliodas only lets his breath hitch for a fraction of a second, but his smile becomes genuine. His green eyes darken as they rove over her form, before sliding back to Elizabeth’s face. Despite the flush on her cheeks, Elizabeth can’t help but preen under the attention and she lightly runs her tongue over her red lips.

 “Pardon me,” she speaks gently, flutters her lashes at the woman, who is frowning. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 “Not at all,” Meliodas says before the red-haired woman opens her mouth. “We were just discussing…?”

 “My family’s business,” the woman adds, a little put off. “How we provided most of the plates and cutlery you see at the King’s ball.”

 “Yeah, that.”

 “Oh, how interesting,” Elizabeth smiles sweetly, trying to be nice. “Well, my Lady, I hope you don’t mind but I must discuss something with Lord Meliodas.”

 The Lady opens her mouth, ready to speak on how she does indeed mind--

 “I better go, Lady Gwen,” he says, shrugging sheepishly. “Might be important.”

 Elizabeth nods in affirmation, feeling a spark of satisfaction as the woman directs a searing glare to her. She just keeps smiling, even as she takes Meliodas’ arm and gently leads him out of the ballroom.

 From the King’s ballroom to the library, it does not take long to get to. For a goddess and a demon--two beings ten times stronger than mortals--it takes even less time.

 Elizabeth moans as Meliodas pins her to the closed door, their lips locked in a deep kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck, just as Meliodas tangles a hand in her hair and tips her head closer to his; their tongues slide along each other, tangling and suckling. Meliodas groans and parts from her, barely letting out a breath, and drags his mouth along her jaw.

 “‘Discuss something’,” he quotes in a purr, then trails hot kisses along her neck. “You’re so subtle, goddess.”

 Elizabeth lets out a giggle that tapers off into a moan as his mouth suckles along that one spot. Her mouth, swollen and still holding some smeared remnants of her lipstick, spreads wider into a smile.

 “I was just, ah--worried,” she says. “She didn’t seem so...yes, that’s good...n-nice.”

 Meliodas smirks against her shoulder, as he smooths one hand down the front of her dress, squeezes at one breast. He draws her pert nipple between his fingers and kneads into the flesh, feeling a scorching thrill when Elizabeth moans and arches into the touch. With his other hand, Meliodas reaches beneath Elizabeth’s skirts and runs a hand up one leg, lifting it from the knee and wrapping it around his hip.

 “Came to my rescue, did you?” He teases, lifting his head to lock his heated gaze with hers.

 Elizabeth laughs nervously, her gaze shifting sheepishly as her hands grasp at the lapels of his suit. “I-I guess that sounds ridiculous when said like that…”

 “Not at all.” He presses closer to her and kisses her again. “I like it.”

 As their lips meet again, Elizabeth sighs; then she braces her other leg and pushes off the door. Meliodas groans, but lets himself fall on his back, Elizabeth straddling his hips. She sits up on his thighs and regards him through dark, hooded blue eyes. Meliodas sits up on his elbows and licks his lips, pure want pulsing through his hearts.

 Elizabeth takes out her lipstick and opens it. Without removing her gaze from Meliodas’ eyes, she expertly applies the sinful red to her lips and purses her mouth to an air kiss when done. After putting the lipstick away, she reaches down to undo his tie and unbutton his white shirt until more of his neck and collarbone are revealed. Meliodas feels his breath go short, but his mouth spreads into an eager grin.

 “Then I hope you don’t mind,” she drawls, “if I send her, and anyone else, a little...message.”

Not too long after, with her hands laced behind her and her chin held high, a rather smug Elizabeth steps out of the library. The red along her swollen lips is smeared again, but she regards it as a result of her hard work. As she leans on the wall beside the doors, Elizabeth catches a glimpse of the woman--right, Lady Gwen--striding towards her, her heels clacking on the floor.

 “Oh, Lady Gwen,” she greets. “How are--?”

 “Don’t you dare, you little harlot,” Lady Gwen nearly hisses. “I don’t care that you’re an ally to the king, or whatever, I don’t appreciate--”

 Just then, the library door opens and Meliodas steps out. Along with a face and neck covered with red lip-shaped stains and a rather lazy smile, his once perfectly put together suit left all wrinkled and out of place. With lidded green eyes, he finds Elizabeth and his smile spreads into something more dreamy. Elizabeth smiles sweetly and reaches out to thread a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp before curling her hand beneath his chin. Meliodas lets out a sigh and leans into the touches, making Elizabeth giggle.

 “Lady Gwen is here to see you,” she nearly purrs. “Did you want to keep talking to her?”

 Meliodas doesn’t even blink. “...Who?”

 The woman squawks, her cheeks flushing in anger and humiliation. Though Elizabeth feels a pang of guilt for the the lady, she only sends her a shrug that is barely attempting to be bashful. Lady Gwen growls and turns on her heel to stomp away, quickly disappearing down the hallway.

 When they’re officially alone, Elizabeth cups her hands around Meliodas’ jaw and gives him a soft kiss--one that Meliodas returns hungrily, his arms wrapping around her waist, one hand stroking up her back and the other slowly making its way to her rear. Elizabeth giggles and parts from him to give him a look.

 “How’s about we ditch this place?” She says with a wink.

 Meliodas smirks, his green eyes gleaming. “Fuck. Yes.”

 Before Elizabeth can retort, Meliodas scoops her up in his arms, holding her bridal style. Letting out a little squeak, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pins him with a playful glare that makes Meliodas smirk wider.

 Slowly, as his eyes fade to black and the demonic mark burns into his forehead, Meliodas summons up the power to teleport them back home.

 “Really?” Elizabeth pouts through the dark swirls. “Did you really?”

 Meliodas just snickers.

 Ugh, demon boyfriends,she snorts, leaning to nuzzle his cheek with a smile. What can you do?

[kuletxcore]

Spiritdimension Neptunia Frontier 1.3: Purple Progress, at Last!

“Running off like that was very irresponsible, Miss Valera!” Histoire scolded. “There are monsters everywhere and none of you girls have experience! Not only that, you put Miss Rose in danger!”

Lara and Hotaru were taken aback by the surprising ferocity of the small fairy, with the latter hiding behind the taller girl.

Alex chuckled nervously. For some reason, she felt like she’s seen many of such scoldings from Histoire, and has been on the receiving end of some, too.

Maya refused to make eye contact with the book fairy. Maya felt smaller than Histoire, which is actually quite the accomplishment.

Histoire let out a small sigh, calming herself down, “Well then, it does seem that a lot of good did come from such irresponsible actions.”

She floated over to Alex. “You did acquire a spirit, correct?”

Alex nodded. She suddenly started to glow a pinkish purple and the spirit materialized in front of her.

Histoire examined the statue before her when small tears fell from her eyes. “Nepgear… I’m so sorry.”

“Aw, Histy, don’t cry,” Alex consoled. “I’m here now!”

Alex blinked, and shook her head, “Histy? Where…”

Histoire wiped her tears. “I must apologize, Miss Rose. It’s a side effect of acquiring the spirits. Their memories and personality will start bleeding into your own.”

“W-what the Goodness?” Alex cried. “Does that mean I’m slowly turning into Nepgear?”

“Oh, nothing too drastic, but you will say and do things that are more in their character than yours. You will still be yourself most of the time.”

"Oh, I don’t think I can handle this, Histy," Alex muttered nervously as she looked down with her hands on her skirt. "I'm not ready to be some sort of Video Game Goddess and save Gamindustri..."

Histoire floated in front of Alex and gently touched her face."I know you and your partners can save our world, Alex. I believe in you." Histoire assured in a very firm tone.

"Umm. Thank you, I guess.."

"So, Miss Histoire, does this mean this will happen to us when we get our spirits as well?" Hotaru said, popping out behind Lara.

"Unfortunately yes, Miss Iwata." Histoire turned to Hotaru. "What happened with Alex will also happen to you." Histoire visibly shuddered after she said that line. She can't imagine the currently meek and shy Hotaru having the colorful and violent personality of the Lowee Goddess. She shook her head to get rid of such thoughts.

"Anyway, Miss Rose. Ready to introduce yourself to the Resistance?" Histoire asked, shifting the topic from such disturbing imagery.

"I am ready, Miss Histy!" Alex responded with confidence.

Histoire led the four girls to another room within the base with IF and Compa following close behind. This room was more of a meeting room than the other one. There was a long table with various chairs surrounding it.  Three other girls were currently waiting for Histoire to arrive. “Hey, Histoire! Did we finally get some new recruits?” The small girl sitting at the table asked with excitement in her voice. “Yes, B-Sha. More accurately, these four girls are the ones I brought in from the VR Dimension,” Histoire answered. “Wait, does that mean…?” A girl with bright red hair, Falcom, trailed off. Histoire nodded. “These girls are the ones chosen to be the Champions of Gamindustri.” Maya chuckled. “Champions, huh? I kinda like it.” “And it just so happens that Miss Alexandra Rose here is the Champion of Planeptune.” Alex squeaked and stood at attention, a blush tinging her cheeks. “She has acquired the spirit of Purple Sister.” Histoire continued. Alex once again started to glow a pinkish purple as her spirit materialized beside her again. “Why…” Alex started but then smiled. “I see, she wants to see her—our friends again…” The last girl, wearing a black hoodie with purple accents, stood up, her long purple hair swaying as she sauntered up to Alex. “So I guess that means you’re my new little sister, huh?” “Um… what?” “Oh, of course! I’m Neptune, nice to meetcha, little sis!” Alex gaped, combing through Nepgear’s memories for help. “Oh, don’t act so surprised, the readers would riot if there wasn’t at least one Nep in the first few chapters.” “You’re… from another dimension... “ Alex said, trying to wrap her head around the bigger Neptune’s utter disregard for the fourth wall. It’s at this point that the two authors can and will try to reign Neptune in. We’ll see how that goes. Neptune smiled at the author’s exasperation. “Yep! I actually came from the Ultradimension, although I haven’t been there in, like, forever. Lil’ me and Nepgear were letting me crash at their place until… well… you know…” Alex felt a pang of sadness surge through her. No doubt Nepgear’s lingering regrets making themselves known. "At least the citizens are safer in your dimension and didn't suffer the same fate as this dimension's Neptune and Nepgear..."  Falcom pointed out. B-sha coughed into her fist to grab the attention of everyone in the room. “Anyway, Now that we have a spirit, we can finally try to take the Basilicom back!” Hotaru tilted her head. “Basilicom?” “The base of operations for the goddesses,” Alex explained. “My--er, Nepgear’s home.” “All four Basilicoms were taken by ASIC after the CPUs fell.” Histoire explained, “I suppose we can claim it now that we have Purple Sister to purify it.” "Is there a security measure that requires some sort of identity verification in order to break in? I can't seem to recall installing one myself."  Alex stated and then shook her head, “I mean…. Nep—... Ugh, you know what I mean.” Histoire smiled sadly, as Alex tried to straighten herself out. “Like everything, the sharicite within the Basilicoms has been corrupted. To truly claim it for ourselves, we have to purify it, and only the goddess that came from the sharicite can do that.” “Alright!” B-sha shouted, jumping on the table and producing her mask, “It’s going to be our standard moving plan. Neptune, IF, Compa, you guys are escorting the Champions while Falcom and I provide cover!” “Wait, moving plan?” Lara cried, “And we’re coming too, but I don’t know how to fight! Do either of you?” Hotaru shook her head violently while Maya scratched the back of her head. “I mean, I’ve gotten in a couple of scrapes before, but I don’t think I’d be able to take on an actual monster.” “Yeah, sorry about this,” IF apologized, “But this base is temporary, always was.” “The monsters made it impossible to stay in one place for too long, so we just keep moving around the city,” Compa added. “You girls don’t need to worry!” Neptune cheered. “Iffy, Compa, and I are something of a dream team! We’ll make sure you girls are safe.” “Still the same Nep, no matter what dimension she’s from,” IF mused. “Which reminds me…” IF walked over to a chest and grabbed something that looked like a white eggbeater. She tossed it to Alex. Alex inspected it and a pink blade suddenly popped out of it. “The Beam Saber…” Alex said as she did a couple of practice swings. “Thought it could come in handy,” IF said as she winked at Alex. “Come on, It’s time to go home.”

“You really think it’s a good idea for both of us to do this?” a small black mouse, Warechu, asked.

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, that crystal’s been pumping out monsters ever since we took the Planeptower. Only an idiot would try to raid the place,” his companion, a young gray-skinned girl with elf ears named Linda (called Underling by most people), replied.

The two were on the outskirts of the City planting red X-shaped crystals on the ground.

“Besides,” Linda continued, “do you want to be the first person the Boss sees when she gets back?”

“You got a point there, that blue-haired weirdo scares me more than the Old Lady ever did. She kept muttering things like plunging the world into eternal despair and stuff. Honestly, where did she even come from?" Warechu complained.

“Don’t know, don’t care. I just want to get this done so she doesn’t plunge me into eternal despair.”

The pair walked off, as the patches of grass that the crystals were dropped on started to lose their color.

"Hi-yah!" Alex yelled as she successfully sliced the last of the monsters with her saber.  With their health at critical, a shard of the Share Code appeared all around them.  

"Share Code, Digitize!"

Alex made short work of scanning the code, causing all the monsters to disappear in a cloud of pixels.

“I’m glad I can do that without transforming,” Alex said

“You’re a real natural with that sword, Lex” IF said.

Alex blushed while scratching her cheek, “I-It’s more Nepgear than anything.”

“So this is Planeptower’s inner sanctum?” Neptune said, inspecting her surroundings, "Can’t say I’ve seen this before in any of the dimensions I've been."

“It’s usually locked off from everybody except the CPU and their Oracle. Sometimes really close friends come by here.” IF looked at Alex, “Anything could be behind this door, Lex, Are you ready?”

Alex nodded. IF opened the door to reveal an Ancient Dragon waiting for the group in the Sharicite sanctum.

Neptune’s eyes lit up, “Ooooh, an Ancient Dragon! Never thought I’d fight one in this dimension!”

“Focus, Nep!” IF shouted, “We’re going to have to go all out.”

Alex took out her Digivice and fragments of Share Code wrapped around her, forming some sort of egg-shaped cocoon. In a flash, the Share Code dissolved, revealing Purple Sister.

The Dragon swiped at Alex, but she swiftly dodged. IF and Neptune slashed at its legs, distracting it.

Alex then shouted, “MIRAGE DANCE!” as she spun into the dragon with her sword and pulled off a flurry of blows.

‘Is this… Nepgear’s power?’ Alex asked herself. ‘No, this is our power.’

She then flew up and met the dragon’s eyes. She took careful aim with her sword-gun.

“Multiple Beam Launcher,” She muttered, as she pulled the trigger. Shot after shot, her lasers connected with the dragon damaging it until the final blow was struck.

“Yep, that’s definitely Gear,” IF said.

Share code appeared around the beast, and Alex immediately took out her digivice in order to purify said monster.

“Share Code, Digitize!”

The Dragon disappeared as its code was absorbed, leaving only the Sharicite covered in a shadowy aura.

Alex landed in front of the crystal. It flickered in her presence as her own digivice reacted. Share code erupted from the device and into the crystal.  The crystal lost its dark aura and glowed brightly. It flew around Alex and placed itself in the center of the room, providing power to the tower as it was supposed to.  For some reason, Neptune was singing some sort of triumphant song that felt at home in Lowee as this was happening.

Every light in the Planeptower powered on. Giving the place color (mainly purple) that it seemed to lack. Fortunately, they found that all of the computer systems in the basilicom were still running.

Histoire sighed happily. They weren’t winning yet, but it felt good to finally make some sort of headway instead of just running all the time.

“Miss Histy?” Alex called.

She was standing over by one of the larger terminals showing a larger map of the city. While the Tower had regained its luster, the rest of the city still looked pretty rundown.

“That’s strange…. The Sharicite should be giving power to the rest of the city…”

Alex punched in some commands on the keyboard, apparently, Nepgear designed the system, thus Alex knew the system very intimately.

“It seems like there’s something blocking the share energy from reaching the rest of the city.” Alex reasoned.

“That is troubling…” Histoire held her chin in thought, “Miss Rose, I want you and the other girls to investigate this with Compa and IF”

“Are you sure? I-I’m the only one who can transform… I couldn’t bear it if any of the others got hurt.”

"IF and Compa are more than capable of protecting you all. We do need to cover as much ground as possible to find the cause of this share blockage."

Alex nodded, still nervous, but with a renewed sense of responsibility. Not just because of Nepgear, but also because she promised to help in any way she could.  

==NEPSTATION ==

Neptune: Nepstation! And even though Big Me is in this chapter, no one can beat the OG Nep Master! With me is Alexandra Rose and Underling!

Underling: That’s not my damn name!

Alex: To be fair, Miss Underling, that’s the only name I remember you having.

Underling: *Growls*

Neptune: Well to settle the issue, Can you tell us what your actual name is?

Underling: It’s Lin-

Neptune: IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOUR NAME IS!

Underling: W-What?

Neptune: Cause next time, The Resistance is going to find you guys and my beautiful country will be restored! Tune in next time for, “The Tallest of Mountains”!

Underling: Did you seriously just set me up to do an episode preview?

Alex: Miss Neptune sure is a handful.

[flighty37-blog]

The Swedish Flag & The British Flag

Author’s note: There’s a distinct lack of strictly Martyn/Cornelia fics. With them as central characters. So I’ve decided to create a universe for them.

Rating: Mature themes PG-R Most likely.

Summary: We know how Dan and Phil 'met'. Dan stalked Phil, and they eventually became best friends. Some people are convinced they're lovers. But what of Cornelia and Martyn? Truly they're an established couple. They've been dating for eight years. As long as Dan and Phil have been friends. How did they meet? I know that Martyn does some DJ work. Perhaps he met Cornelia at a big party?

May (2009):

Martyn Lester was spinning tracks. He had his headphones on and was dancing along with the tracks he had put on. The lights were strobe, and the disco ball was glinting. This was a ritzy party. Some singer was supposed to be entertaining.

Someone named Dahlgren? Well they'd better be worth their salt. How could this party get any better? As with most gigs, Martyn got free reign of the buffet. Which was good, because DJ-ing was a hell of a gig. He got hungrier as the night went on. In fact, his stomach was starting to rumble. He went to find Joe, his replacement.  Just as he turned to search for Joe in the crowd, he bumped into someone. She was tiny.

She had a dark curly mass of hair, and the deepest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Her lips were in a bright red lip paint colour. And when she batted her long, luscious eyelashes at him, he melted. She was gorgeous.

He shook the thought from his head. 'No. No. I just broke up with Sheila. Bad Brain!'

"Hi. Sorry. Excuse me. I was trying to find Joe, he's my replacement, and I'm hungry...." He moved to the side. She moved to the other side, but they still managed to bump hands.

"Ow!" She shook her hand to the side, trying to get the hurt to go away.

"I am so sorry!" He yelped.

"It is fine," her accent was soft, but definitely not British nor American.

The music was almost deafening, but he felt as if, they were the only two people in the room.

Just then Joe ambled up. "Hey Lester!" He waved, and also bumped into Cornelia.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't see you there," Joe apologised as well.

"Apparently I am invisible tonight," Cornelia's eyelashes fluttered again.

"Joe! Focus! Get to the stage," Martyn gestured.

"Oh, yeah....Okay....Nice catch Lester!" Joe nudged his ribs, and he exited, leaving Martyn with this stunning beauty.

"I'm Martyn Lester," Martyn stuck out his hand. Likewise she stuck out her own hand,

"I'm Cornelia Dahlgren."

Dahlgren, Dahlgren. Why did that name sound so familiar?

"You're the singer?" He asked, she was so tiny.

"Of course I am. I was on Sweden's Idol," Cornelia puffed up a bit with pride at her announcement.

"Ohhh did you win?" Martyn asked.

"Yes I did, and now I am here....Excuse me," Cornelia was soon swallowed up in the crowd.

The food was forgotten for a moment, and Martyn felt the urge to find her again. She was intriguing. Tiny as a fairy, flawless in complexion, her lovely big blue eyes....Her hair....All of her....Gorgeous!

He shook his head and went to the buffet. He decided he'd better eat.  

His phone buzzed, "Hey Mum...." He assured his mother that he was well, and that Phil was doing well.

"I hear he has a stalker?" Catherine worried.

"I don't think it'll turn out bad," Martyn assured her.

He reassured her one last time, and then they said, their 'I love you's and goodbyes.

His mum was one tough lady, but he loved her, he really did. He continued to search the crowd, hoping to find the bright sprite he'd nearly trampled over. But she's gone. He ate, finished, and went to relieve Joe at the DJ station, flipping the lights, and pushing random buttons, until 'she' sashayed onto the stage.

She gripped the microphone tight between her hands, and her eyes closed, as her voice sang, and lilted towards the heavens. She was an angel. An absolute angel. Her vocal range was melodic and sweet. And when she opened her eyes again, she made contact with everyone in the crowd. Then she gave a nod towards the DJ station.

Martyn felt himself blush. His heart raced, he felt something. He was attracted to her. What straight guy wouldn't be attracted to her, or any female for that matter either?  As she finished her set, she was hounded by the autographees.

They wanted her. Everyone wanted her. Martyn....Wanted her. She was too beautiful. She was way out of his league.

Normally he went for the taller, bigger titted girls. The ones who were dumber than rocks. But she mesmerised him. He was smitten. He needed to talk to her again. Before she could disappear, Martyn followed her, leaving a flummoxed Joseph in his wake.

"Where ya goin' man? I can't do this! It isn't my turn!"

But Martyn's deaf now. He needed to see her, talk to her....

Cornelia's POV:

She smiled inwardly.

That tall red haired blue-eyed British man, boy.....Male. He was younger than she.

She could tell by looking at him. His flipped up hat, his smirky cocky grin. He was a player. But she felt a faint stirring. He was handsome, but she could tell he was smart. Clever. A decent human being. Somebody that Roger, her ex, wasn't. Her insides were telling her that Martyn Lester was someone she should get to know. Perhaps, one day, more intimately. Tonight she was intrigued. She wanted to find him again.

She needed to talk to him again. She needed to get to know him more. He had certainly left an impression on her. And she felt the vibrations, the butterflies.

She felt a crimson flush on her cheeks.

Cornelia was smitten....Cornelia was soon to be in love.  Somehow she felt her hopes and dreams were intertwined with this person. All she had to achieve was the physicalness. But first they need to talk. And then, she felt the bump again. He'd run over her once more. But she didn't mind the hurting in her elbow. He was before her. She smiled gracefully.

Martyn:

"Oh my god! I am so, so, sorry! I keep hurting you. And normally I'm a pacifist. I hate hurting people," Martyn splutters out, and mentally slaps his forehead.

Usually he's pretty articulate.

Unlike Phil, who's barely articulate and very shy, even though he went to Uni, is going to uni. He's in Manchester studying whatever.

Martyn left Uni a year and a half ago. Now he's a part time DJ and he'd studied online business managing. No need to tell this beautiful person about it. She'd think he was boring. She was looking quizzically at him. Waiting for him to speak aloud again.

Cornelia:

He was so cute when he was flustered. She could tell he was trying to speak, but he was fumbling his words. She reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm. The only part of him she could reach. She's really short compared to him. She's really short anyway.

Martyn:

"Again, sorry about running you over, but....I....You're very pretty...." Oh really smooth there Lester. That'll surely win her over. Yeah....He sounded like a stalker.  

She laughed. That's a good sign isn't it? Maybe? He's got a shot. A chance. Didn't he? She's got the most gorgeous smile. Her eyes are lit up too. Her eyes are such a bright blue. So pale like a robin's egg, or like a pale blue morning sky. Ugh! He's waxing poetic. Stop it Lester. Talk Music! So he tried to engage her in favourite music.

Cornelia: She put a hand to her mouth to keep her deep chuckles hidden. "It's quite alright. I'm resilient," she assured him. Her accent was coming out again.

Martyn:

"I'm British," he croaked out. Like she wouldn't have guessed already? Good one there.

He's acting more and more like Phil. Uncoordinated, shy, awkward. Any time now he'll trip over his own shoelaces. Any time now he'll have something bite him. Any time now he'll just fall for no reason.

"I mean want to go somewhere quiet?" He asked.

She nodded and they found a quiet corner. She sat down on the swing, and he sat down in the metal garden chair. And they talked, and chatted. They laughed a little.

Cornelia: She just knew there was something wonderful about him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way he smiled.

The way he moved his hands when he made a point.

They talked about music, their favourite bands. Why they were interested in music. What drove them. They talked well into the night, and as the party died down, and the caterers packed up, they were still talking, and suddenly, Martyn was holding her hand. Cornelia never wanted to let it go. It was soft, it was giant, and yet it invariably fit in with her small hand. She blushed this time, as he let go. He was obviously embarrassed. But....

Martyn:

"Let's exchange phone numbers, it would only seem fair after all," he insisted.

He was relieved when she nodded yes. He wrote his number down on a scrap of paper from his pocket, and tore it, handed her the pen and she wrote down her number on the other half. They exchanged pieces of paper. Then they parted ways.

Martyn was disappointed to see her go. He wanted to introduce her to his mum. Maybe one day.... She rang him as he pulled into his driveway at his flat. He answered, and balanced the phone on his shoulder as he unlocked the door. She sounded a bit upset as well. He wanted to hug her, the way Mum hugged him when he was sad.

Cornelia:

She had never felt this way before. Actually, physically needing a person. She had always brushed it off as something unnecessary. But somehow, Martyn Lester brought that out in her again. Her vulnerability....He was awkwardly chatting again. Making her smile.

"This might sound desperate, but I just wanted to hear your voice again," Cornelia's blush deepened. She was in the corner of her tour bus, and she didn't want anyone to hear her conversation.

"I must have a nice voice," he'd said to her.

She answered, "You do have a nice voice. I enjoyed talking to you, and I'm glad we exchanged numbers. It'll be less lonely on the road, during tour."

Martyn:

"You're on tour?" Martyn was intrigued.

Of course she was tour! She was a singer for cripe's sake! Argh! He slapped a hand to his forehead. Seeming to startle her as she had asked what 'that noise was'.

"Nothing. I was slapping at a pesky fly," Martyn lied.

"Oh I see. Was it connected to your body?" She asked.

"No. Why do you ask?" Martyn retorted.

"I swear I heard skin being slapped," Cornelia answered.

This woman was observant, talented, cute, pretty, sexy voice, sexy compact body. Eyes to die for. Eyelashes long and lush. The list went on and on. She had a great personality. Mum would LOVE her. He, he already felt something. But he was a red blooded male. Didn't he think about sex all the time? But he didn't want to have just sex with her.

He wanted something more. Something solid. Something that she could bring into this potential relationship.

"Martyn Lester, are you listening to me?!"

She was bossy. Add that to the list. But Mum was bossy so that was okay. It was great that she was an assertive female. A kind woman. Would she be a passionate woman? Would she belong to any causes?

Cornelia: "Martyn? Martyn Lester!" Her exclamation seemed to have jolted him out of whatever la-la land he was in. He'd begun to speak out loud once more.

She giggled. Wait a minute she was giggling? Better tamp that down. But his deep, rich laugh melted her again. And they just laughed together. They talked until she was yawning. And then they said goodbye.

A couple months later:

Red Bull Festival....

"Ahhh we meet again!" Martyn said.

"Yes I was told I was being paired with you," Cornelia said, and her eyes had a certain shine to them.

"Coincidence....They told me the same thing," Martyn's smile lit up his face.

"I don't mind it one bit," Cornelia answered.

They gave each other private smiles. They had been communicating whenever they could. Email, Skype, Facetime, Twitter, Facebook, anything social media. His mother was concerned, Phil was intrigued. Dad was secretly cheering him on. Martyn was pleased, and he felt a bit of wholeness fill the void that Sheila had clawed in him when she'd left.

"You're gonna get a girlfriend before the year's out," Phil had teased.

"You're gonna be friends with your stalker before the end Bro," Martyn teased back.

"We've Skyped a few times, and Facetimed. He's not that bad. I kinda like him. Did you know he's going to Manchester University? He's studying to be a lawyer," Phil was getting excited.

"Slow down Baby Brother! Slow down....What's his name?" Martyn smiled. Phil needed a close friend. Oh he had 'friends', but he needed a close one.

"His name's Daniel Howell, but he said I could call him Dan. But...." Phil's voice trailed off.

"But?" Martyn paused waiting for Phil to collect his scattered, excitable thoughts. That boy was always running on reserve adrenaline. He was a weird kid, but he was nice. And kind. Everything that Mum and Dad had instilled in them both.

"He's eighteen, I'm twenty-two," Phil blurted out.

"So?" Martyn was not understanding this train of thought at all.

"Sooooo he's got his whole life ahead of him?" Phil turned the statement into a question towards the end.

"And? So do you! Look at you getting your BA in English/Linguistics and then going back for another semester to do videos/editing," Martyn replied.

"I know...." Phil's voice turned to pride.

"See? So you need a friend to help you through your revision, and he probably needs help with his revising. I say you two become friends. The sooner the better....I gotta go Bro! I'm DJ-ing at the Red Bull Fest," Martyn said.

"Okay. Cool. Well I'm making a silly video," Phil responded.

"I'll watch it when you upload it like usual," Martyn assured him.

"Thanks Martyn," Phil was mollified.

"Any time. Catch you in the hereafter," Martyn signed off.

Then he had met up with Cornelia and they were presently speaking:

"Well it could be worse," Cornelia jokingly shrugged.

"Yeah I could be with a mongrel," Martyn joked back. He had a weird sense of humour. Who didn't in his family? He hadn't been the one to watch his parents sleep when he was a child though. So Phil had been weirder, by a slight margin.

"You're funny Mr. Lester," Cornelia said.

"Mr. Lester's my father. Please keep calling me Martyn," Martyn implored.

"Okay, just as long as you don't slip up and call me 'Ms. Dahlgren', I'll think it's my spinster aunt," Cornelia said, her eyes keeping their sparkle, her lips slightly parted.

Oh how Martyn wanted to kiss those plump lips. Her hair was dyed. It was a lovely crimson. He liked that colour on her. Her lips matched her hair. He smiled wider.

"Are you alright Martyn?" Cornelia turned her head to the side.

"I-I'm fine. Well we'd better get to our places," Martyn said, as he helped her onto the back of the stage.

"We'd better meet up after we're finished our tasks," Cornelia said.

"We will, but if we don't, we'll just ring each other," Martyn responded.

"Sounds good to me. I like having a mobile," Cornelia decided.

"Thank God for mobiles," Martyn agreed.

So as time went on they were paired together more often at gigs, and they grew closer, and closer. Soon they were together. Officially.

Date night:

One of the rare nights where she's not hopelessly going from city to city on her tour bus, where he's not being a dj. They're holding hands, and looking out at London. They both moved to London. Different flats, opposite sides of London. But they're in the same town. The same time zone. Cornelia's leaned against Martyn's long arm, as they're holding hands.

"It's so gorgeous. The moon is so full....Martyn! A shooting star," Cornelia followed the star's path with her pointer finger.

"Make a wish," Martyn whispered in her ear. They're seated on a bench. Cuddled close. Leaning on each other now.

"I already made my wish. Two months ago. You appeared and almost trampled me to death," Cornelia chuckled.

Martyn rolled his eyes, and he spoke, "You're my wish too." He kissed her lips. He'd finally been granted permission.

"How's your brother Peter?" Cornelia mixed up the name. On purpose.

"Peter? Don't you mean Phil?" Martyn scrunched his eyebrows together, until he realised she was kidding. She followed Phil on YouTube.  She was one of his subscribers.

"Of course I meant Phil. How is he managing university? How is he doing with his 'online friend'?" Cornelia asked.

"He's doing well and have you seen his channel? It's growing by leaps and bounds," Martyn's so proud of his baby brother.

"Of course I've seen his channel. But I want to know about his 'friend'," Cornelia answered.

"They've met up a few times. But always in public places. So they've never been 'alone'. You know?" Martyn answered.

"Like romantically? Or just doing 'boy things'?" Cornelia asked.

"Just off by themselves doing whatever they want," Martyn shrugged. Which was hard to do considering Cornelia was still lying her head on his arm. But he'd managed.

"Of course, so when do you think they'll be 'alone'?" Cornelia teased.

"Knowing Phil? The minute Mum and Dad go out of town. Which they're planning to do in October," Martyn said.

"When do I get to meet your parents I've heard so much about?" Cornelia asked.

"Soon...." Martyn answered.

Soon (two months later, three months of dating) August 2009:

Soon for the two of them, their busy schedules and such, did not happen until the end of August. They had free time, they flew to the Isle of Man, after Martyn had told his mother that he was bringing a 'special friend'. Which he hoped was enough to satiate his mother's insatiable appetite for gossip, and concern. She was pretty overprotective.

"Martyn! Fruit of My Womb!" Catherine enveloped Martyn into a tight, vise like hug.

Martyn didn't dare squirm, the hug would have gotten tighter. He knew the more he relaxed, the lesser the hold would get. He had to be patient. So he shot a glance over at his father.

"Catherine....Let the boy go. He's got to breathe," Nigel stepped in and rescued their oldest.

Catherine, albeit reluctantly, let go. She patted Martyn's cheek, and turned her attention the strange red haired, woman standing almost awkwardly behind Martyn. She was so tiny, and petite.

"Hello Dear. And might I ask who you are?" Catherine was ready to hug another person. She couldn't hug Phil, but anyone would do at this point.

"Mum, Dad, meet Cornelia Dahlgren....My girlfriend," Martyn said proudly.

And then the grilling had begun.

"I'm thirty-one this year," Cornelia softly said, they were now seated in the lounge.

"Eight years," Nigel nodded.

"Age is just a number. You're welcome to the family My Darling. You've made my Martyn very happy!" Catherine jumped up and hugged Cornelia with such ferocity that Martyn had to step in and help her out.

Or he would have if Cornelia had not hugged back, with just as much, if not more ferocity. She had taken on his mother! She was fantastic! She was a keeper! Martyn and Nigel exchanged glances, and they both secretly smiled behind the women's backs. Yes, Cornelia would do just fine in this family.

Catherine brought out the light lunch she'd made, and Cornelia followed her and helped put out the drinks. So natural. As if she had always belonged. Despite Catherine's protests.

"Dear, you're our guest. Do sit next to Martyn, I have a feeling he's missing you," Catherine had tried to dissuade her 'new daughter'.

"He'll live. He's lived without me before, he can live without me again. Our schedules are so conflicting. I'm working on a new project called Camp Mozart. He's out being a DJ and trying to fit into the business world. We're so busy...." Cornelia sighed.

"But you must make time for yourselves," Catherine insisted.

"We do. It's nice to have technology at your fingers," Cornelia smiled softly.

"Oh how far we've come," Catherine sagely nodded.

The two women chatted, becoming closer as well. So close that as soon as Martyn and Cornelia had taken their leave, Catherine had adopted her. Not officially, just made it known to her husband and son.

Moving in:

"It's economical, you'll have a place to stay instead of temporary shelter. I'll get to hold you and snuggle you Every Night! C'mon please say yes. I found this cute little flat...." Martyn wheedled.

"Martyn! You're incorrigible. We'll need space to put my instruments and things for my studio," Cornelia pointed out.

"I found the perfect place. Please come see it with me?" Martyn begged. They were talking over the phone again.

"Okay, Okay, I'm coming into London tomorrow morning. You'd better be my chauffeur Lester," Cornelia said, her smile had gotten bigger.

He was so excitable. A bit like Phil. Phil was more excitable. She had met Phil a couple of times, and he was always going on about this 'Daniel Howell' kid. She had looked Dan up on YouTube, but he hadn't posted anything yet.

She went back to YouTube, and found Dan's video.

Oh god was this kid in for some surprises with the Lesters. He'd better be prepared. She would be there to guide the poor soul. He was every bit his eighteen year old self. But she enjoyed the content. Really. She had laughed where it was supposed to be funny, and had forwarded the video to Martyn.

Martyn took great delight to chortle at Phil, and Phil had defended his young friend. So brotherly rivalry was going full force now. Cornelia just made popcorn and watched it sort itself out. They never seriously argued; they were better friends and brothers than anything.

She was glad when the plane landed, and Martyn was there waiting for her. He took her to a hotel, and they spent the night in each others' arms. Content. Happy. A couple.

The next morning:

"Welcome home!" Martyn spread his arms wide around the (as of yet) empty flat.

"Martyn, it's HUGE!" Cornelia said, as her voice echoed about, bouncing off the walls.

"It's got space for the instruments, we can put a door there, and section it off. And you can have your own little studio....And look there's the kitchen I can burn stuff in. No I learnt how to cook. Honest! And....Look at the cute tiny bedroom. Our bedroom. Please say yes Nell?" Martyn stopped for breath.

"Martyn...." She sighed. It was all so perfect. Too perfect. The man of her dreams, this tiny apartment. They had been dating all of five months. She was still thirty-one. He was still twenty-three. He was a boy, he was a man. He was hers. But the niggling doubt still wavered through.

"I'm so old Martyn," she'd said. She had said so many times before but he'd brushed the concern off.

"Age is just a number. Our personalities make up for the rest of it," Martyn teased, but backed away as, she backed into the door to the flat.

"Please don't go Nella," Martyn said.

"I-I have to. This is too much like a fairy-tale. And fairy tales aren't real. You're not real. My parents are divorced. I have crazy relatives. I can't be your perfect woman," Cornelia was trembling. She had to go. So she turned and fled.

"CORNELIA!" Martyn raced after her. But she was gone. Disappeared into London's fog. "NELLLLLLAAAA!!!!" He sat down on the stoop. He tried calling her, but her phone went to voicemail.

He stumbled down the street to his car, and went back to his flat, he lay down on the bed, and he looked up at the ceiling. "Nella...." He whispered. She was his. She was always going to be his! He would find her. But what if she never wanted to be found again? He'd found her once. He'd find her again.

On the plane to Sweden:

Cornelia was in tears. She was going her mother's and step-dad's house. She needed some solace, some solitude. It had been a stressful tour, and she needed to calm her aching soul. To keep her mind in check. She'd brought her trusty omnichord. It was a silly thing to bring. But it brought her comfort. So much comfort. But Martyn.... Her Martyn. No he was just a boy she'd met. A fling. He wasn't real anymore. Yes he is! Her romantic side screamed. And thus she'd buried her head in her hands and sobbed. Quiet, but wracking sobs.

"Mamma!" She'd gibbered in Swedish, and thus had begun a whole conversation, entirely in Swedish.

Two nights later:

Skyping with Martyn:

"I miss you Nelia," Martyn said the first thing that sprang into his head.

"I miss you too Marto," she'd said, she'd begun putting several nicknames to him, and Marto seemed the funniest out of them to her.

"Nelia please come back," Martyn pleaded.

"I need some time away Walrus," she'd said, as another nickname came out.

"But Honey Bear...." Martyn pouted. He could look so dejected and her heart broke just a little bit more.

"Honey Bear?" Cornelia cracked a smile.

"Honey Badger?" Martyn quipped, and he too cracked a small smile.

"Marty," Cornelia gave him a look.

"This is heavy Doc!" Martyn said, quoting from Back to the Future. He loved those films.

"Mum said I was named after Marty McFly, she just added the 'n' to make it look proper," Martyn shrugged.

"I'll come back Martyn. I just...I need time, and I need to center myself," Cornelia brought the conversation back full circle. Becoming serious again.

"Whatever you need to do. Hey I've started Yoga myself," Martyn said.

"Have you now?" Cornelia was intrigued.

"Yeah!" Martyn's eyes lit up.

"How limber are you?" Cornelia asked, as she raised an eyebrow.

"Kimberly says I'm so limber, that I have mastered a lot of the Yoga poses," Martyn winked at her.

"Perchance is Kimberly, female?" Cornelia bristled for a brief moment.

"Maybe?" Martyn asked, enjoying that she was sort of jealous.

"I'll be home soon My love munchkin," Cornelia blew him a kiss.

"I can't wait for your return!" Martyn said, and blew her a kiss of his own. He was happy, so was she.

Cornelia cut the visit short. She needed her Marty-Pumpkin. She said goodbye to her family and she was jetsetting to Martyn. He had been rung by her mother, and was waiting for her. He swooped her up in his arms and carried her all the way to the car. Then he drove to his flat and they fell asleep in the bed. Cornelia told him that the place he had found was perfection. They moved in at the end of the week.

Cornelia and Catherine bought kitchen supplies. Cornelia and Martyn made short work of christening the bedroom. Life was good. Life was falling into place. The more he spent with her, the more he loved her.

November 2009:

"Stop fidgeting, Mum and Dad love you," Martyn stilled her hands, and she gave him a smile. Catherine loved her to bits and pieces and had even introduced her to the rest of the immediate family as, 'My Daughter Cornelia'. Cornelia could practically hear all the caps in her introduction, but she had dutifully smiled, and been charming and herself. The relatives loved her. They were going to the Isle of Man. Or just 'the Isle', as Martyn had dubbed it.

"But it's not Christmas, but nearly Christmas, and we won't be back home until the New Year, and...." Cornelia was nervous, so nervous her leg was jiggling up and down.

"Steady my dear, steady. It'll be alright," Martyn leaned over and kissed her lips. He loved her plump lips.

"I'll try, I'll try very hard," Cornelia acknowledged and leaned into him, burrowing into him. She was tiny, and he was the perfect height to be her burrow, her hiding place. He held onto her, steadying her, and she placed her tiny feet against the round window. She fell asleep, arms around Martyn, and head nearly in his lap. He held onto her so she wouldn't fall, and had his head leaned against her neck and the top of her back.

Landing on 'The Isle':

"Ouch!" Cornelia was jolted awake as the plane landed, they were whisked off to the cottage nestled by the seaside on a hill. Welcomed with open arms, and vise-like hugs by Catherine, hands shaken by Nigel, and biddings to 'come eat, or I'll be offended', by Catherine who was gesturing at all the snacks on the table.

"We're having an extra guest today. Phil said he's bringing over a 'friend'," Catherine put her fingers in air quotes.

Martyn had the grace to raise an eyebrow. He knew who it was, or he guessed who it was going to be. He gave Cornelia a significant look.

"Just wait, she'll adopt Dan Howell. And I'll be stuck with him for life," Martyn half-joked.

"Would it be so bad? I've never had a brother, or a sister," Cornelia said.

"No I think it'd be cool to have another sibling. And he would be 'the youngest'. Ousting Phil from that position. Besides he might get showered with so much love he'll pack up," Martyn joked again.

"I didn't 'pack up'. I love this family, and I love...." Cornelia hesitated. This would be it. This would be the life changing event. She took a deep breath and exhaled. "I love you Martyn Nigel Lester," she said it in almost one breath.

Martyn grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners and he kissed her, "I love you too Anna Maria Cornelia Dahlgren."

"Just Cornelia. Please?" Cornelia sighed.

"Nella. Nelia. Core. Cory. Corn. Corny," Martyn named off all the variants of her name.

"Silly Marto, Marty, Tyn, Mart, Walrus, Unicorn, Love...." Cornelia reached up and they kissed again, just as the door was flung open.

 Phil ambled in accompanied by said guest.

Introductions:

"Mum, Dad, Everyone this is Daniel Howell...." Phil started off.

Boy were the kids nervous. Especially the Daniel Howell kid. He was all of what? Eighteen years old. Martyn knew that being around them would soften the sharper edges and leave him with more confidence then he knew what to do with.

Daniel, Dan as he liked to be called, looked all about the room. Licking his lips, wiping his hands on his black trousers, scuffling his feet across the carpet. Mum sure had her work cut out for her. Getting him out of his shell, would be like pulling a shark's tooth. Or better yet, finding a needle in a haystack. Cornelia, and Martyn locked eyes. Then Martyn and Phil also locked eyes. All thinking the same thing, 'Good Luck'.

"I'm adopting him," Catherine dropped the thought as casually as breathing. Her two boys weren't surprised. She'd adopted Cornelia. Why not adopt Dan. Luckily Cornelia had started a soft conversation with Dan, and Dan hadn't heard Catherine's proposal.

Otherwise he would have been more nervous and scared than he already was.

"I told her not to," Nigel joked. He was pushed by Catherine, but they 'made up', by being goofy with each other. Nigel had brushed his hand against her bum. Phil and Martyn had graciously looked the other way, whilst Martyn had jokingly covered Cornelia's eyes.

No kid needed to see their parents being lovey dovey. It was sickeningly cute, but he felt his grip tighten on Cornelia's waist. He felt her hand on his knee. He felt her eyes on his, and he put down his hand shield.

"You're mine Martyn," she whispered.

And he nodded because she was his as well. It was an unspoken agreement, punctuated by their loud nature, coupled with their louder ribbing, and their pet names soon to come.

"I could use another brother," Martyn offered.

"Just the same as I could use a sister," Dan was nothing if not polite.

"A sister and a brother....But that means...." Phil sighed.

"Ousted from the youngest position. It happens to the best of us Bro," Martyn, reached over and punched Phil's shoulder.

"OUCH!" Phil protested and rubbed his hurt shoulder.

"No violence at the breakfast table," Catherine put down their plates and then she and Nigel took their seats.

"Awww I was just about to initiate Dan into the family by flinging him out of the window," Martyn sighed, and clicked his thumb and middle finger together, creating a tiny sounding 'snap'.

"Save it for when Dan isn't scared as hell," Nigel intervened.

"Dad! You said 'hell'!" Phil covered his mouth with his hands.

"You say hell too, and we're really not that religious. Just if some crack pot comes to the door asking, we're all...." Nigel paused.

"We're all Roman Catholics," the rest of the original Lesters answered in unison. Dan and Cornelia shrugged at each other.

"Yep the sacred cross and all that sh..." Nigel was interrupted by Catherine's hand over his mouth.

"So that's where you get that move from!" Dan exclaimed just as Phil put a hand over Dan's mouth to keep him from uttering and adding any colourful swear words of his own.

Dan licked Phil's palm. A move that Phil had demonstrated when Dan had put his hand over Phil's mouth after an embarrassing statement in front of one of the workers in a hotel.

Catherine rolled her eyes.

"That's kinky," Cornelia whispered to Martyn.

"I'll happily demonstrate," Martyn said, and placed a hand over Cornelia's mouth, but lightly.

Cornelia kissed his palm, leaving a bright pink lip mark on his hand. He grinned at her, and they locked feet. Playing footsie now, they jockeyed for positions. How he loved this closeness to her. How he was glad he'd almost trampled her to death. How he was swept away by her loveliness, her talent, the way she could keep up with his train of thought. The fact she was into Yoga now, and keeping him healthy, and keeping their minds healthy.

Feng shui had nothing on them. They were even more aesthetic than anything.  At least the were until Dan entered their family life. He was the more aesthetic one. But they didn't mind. It was Martyn and Cornelia.

Fast forward a few years (8 to be exact):

Eight years. Their relationship had survived the pitfalls that eight years had wrought. Surviving the near Dan and Phil fall out of 2012. Happily managing the store, and being the supervisor/manager of such an outlet. His baby brothers becoming even more famous. He and Cornelia were content to not be in the limelight. Surprisingly they have followers. Not a lot of followers, but enough to have a solid fan base.

His brother and friend writing not one, but two books. He has his Cornelia. His Corny-Toad, and she has her Marty-Dart. They're as cute and unrefined as the day they'd met. And that morning, Martyn was puttering about their newest flat. Their biggest flat yet. It was nothing compared to the duplex/maisonette that Dan and Phil had. But it was his and hers.

"What is it Honey Pot? Are you okay?" Cornelia was making breakfast, but she felt the thoughts buzzing about like angry flies. Or worse. Wasps.

"I'm in deep thinking mode my Sweet Swede Princess. Queen of the North," Martyn was playing something on her keyboard.

"Don't smash the keys too hard, you'll break it. Then I'll break you. That instrument was expensive!" Cornelia called from the kitchen.

"I won't. It was just some songthat popped into my head, and I can't get it out. Thanks for letting me play on the keyboard Honey Pops!" Martyn called back.

"I love you my little Alskling!" Cornelia was happy, and so, Martyn was in turn happy.

"Your little what?!" Martyn joked, she'd called him darling. Her little darling. It sounded sexier in Swedish. His mum usually called them Darlings, or 'Dumplings'.

He liked the Swedish language better, and had begun to practice it on his own. He'd begun to inject Swedish endearments into their every morning when they woke up conversations, and into their good night conversations, he endeared himself to her even more. And she would pat his cheek, or kissed him outright. Her small frame, his tall gangliness.

"Yin and Yang," Martyn nodded.

"Ping and Pong," she stuck her head around the kitchen's door.

"Wine and Glasses," he was being sillier now.

"Cheese and Crackers," Cornelia kept the silly flow going.

"Water and fish," Martyn nodded.

"Dan and Phil," Cornelia chuckled.

"No! That stops right now!" Martyn carefully put the keyboard down, and walked into the kitchen, scooping up his little Swedish flower into his arms and kissing her neck.

Making her drop the spatula, and giggling and kicking her feet into the air. Twisting and turning to get down, so that breakfast wouldn't be burned, but instead she was deposited into a nearby chair.

Martyn washed off the spatula and finished breakfast. He put the food on a plate, and he kissed her curly mass of hair.

"God I love you so much," Martyn said.

"God has changed her name to Cornelia. Please address her as so," Cornelia dictated, and laughed, as she dug into her food.

"My apologies," Martyn said.

"Snygg rumpa," Cornelia looked at Martyn's rump, which even though it's sat in a chair she still eyed it with passion.

"Sot som en gris," Martyn returned.

"Sweet like a pig huh?" Cornelia raised an eyebrow.

"You're the one who told me I had a sweet arse," Martyn answered.

"You could have told me 'Hej sotnos'," Cornelia said.

"But the nose is like that of a cat, and cats make me think of cat whiskers, and cat whiskers makes me think of my brothers," Martyn shuddered for dramatic effect.

"And nobody wants to think of their brothers when they're flirting with their significant others," Cornelia affirmed.

"Damn right," Martyn nodded.

"Jag alskar dig," Cornelia sighed happily.

"I love you too," Martyn nodded.

"Your Swedish has improved greatly," Cornelia approved.

"I've been practicing," Martyn answered.

"Who's teaching you?" Cornelia asked.

"It's an online course," Martyn answered.

"Hej Sotis," Cornelia got up from her seat, and went to nuzzle Martyn's neck.

"You're the sweet one," Martyn finished his meal, and collected Cornelia's empty plate, then they went to sit down in the lounge.

They turned on the television and settled comfortably against each other. Marveling at their closeness. Feeling pride and love at the same time, as Cornelia burrowed into Martyn's side, her hand lazily outlined his knee, his thigh, his leg, and in-between....He's so soft. So manly....So cute, and adorable. And thirty one to her thirty nine. But age? What is age? Just something that happens, and then you die.

She closed her eyes and felt Martyn wrap a long arm around her. She felt safe, and loved, and content. Age be damned.

"Age be damned," She murmured against him, allowing herself to doze again, before the commitments started coming in. Before they were busy again. Before they had to separate and be individuals. Then the night would be theirs, and theirs alone.

"Age is a fleeting number in this stage play we call life," Martyn whispered in her ear.

She smiled at that part. They were and are together. Whether they make it official or not. Whether they finally give Catherine and Nigel grandchildren, or make Dan and Phil uncles or not. It still remains to be seen. They've still got their whole lives ahead of them.

"Phil turns thirty tomorrow...."Was Martyn's last sentence.

"Hmmm...." Cornelia was lost in a happy foggy daze.

Martyn held her tighter, and he too fell into a doze. The television blared, their phones buzzed. But Martyn and Cornelia were asleep. Holding onto each other. Not letting each other go.

The end.