#and on top of that they are utilizing silence in the book

[gifti3]

I really want that cat mug

[neonoddeye]

Heart-Stealer | Law x Gn! Reader

A/N: I will be utilizing my all-time favorite trope for this: the “there’s only one bed” trope! Yes, it’s cheesy. No, I do not care. As a side note, I wrote this for an OC I made, but I’m rewriting it bc I know no one would read it if I left it as is.

CONTENT INCLUDES: …sharing a bed (it’s sfw, just cuddling)

“Are you sure this is okay, Law?” You ask with a crack in your voice. “I can always bug the staff for a new room…”

“It’s fine, y/n-ya”, Law replies, “I’d rather us stick together here.”

“Fair enough,” you sigh, moving your gaze up nervously towards the top of the elevator. Maybe if you hadn’t decided to accompany your captain on a trip at the last possible second, the single-bed hotel room issue would’ve been solved. Alas, the two pirates have a long night ahead of them.

I hope Law doesn’t hear my heart pounding against my chest right now…

It was a very nice hotel room; whether Law actually legally rented it or threatened a few lives for it, you didn’t know. It doesn’t matter, either, as you admire the luxury that lies before you. Nice going, captain, you remarks to yourself. Life has been new and exciting since you joined the heart pirates recently; you’d even go as far as to say it’s the best decision you’ve made in life so far. The only downside is that you’ve properly fallen for the sadistic captain, the surgeon of death, the literal heart stealer. It feels like an unspoken rule to not fall for your pirate captain, especially if he’s notorious and stands above most typical pirates. It’s not like you were trying to catch feelings for Law; he’s an anomaly in the way he makes you stop dead in your tracks, unable to move under his gaze as if he’d bound you with sea prism stone. You didn’t realize you had been lost in thought for a little too long until the man of interest interrupts your thoughts.

“You should take a shower first, y/n-ya,” he offers, placing himself on a smooth, leather swivel chair with a book already in hand.

You perk up upon hearing his voice cut the painful silence, sweet honey in your ears. “‘Kay”, you give Law a small smile before collecting your things.

The shower was, to no surprise, heavenly after having to shower in a metal box underwater for some weeks. After taking off your clothing and jewelry, you allow the deliciously hot water and its steam to envelop you and wash the day’s worries away. After stepping out, you change into a black tank top and plaid sleep shorts and gather your toiletries to finish your nightly routine. Placing yourself at a vanity, you turn to Law behind you.

“Shower’s all yours,” you smile, trying not to linger your gaze too long as Law swings his lengthy figure off the desk and carefully places his book down. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try not to imagine the intimacy of having such a gorgeous man sleep next to you, even if not in a sexual context. To have him close, feel his presence intoxicate you and lull you to sleep like a drug: it’s something you’ve wished upon a star for.

Moments pass as you dry your hair until the bathroom door slides open. revealing Law in just a pair of sweatpants, his signature hat nowhere to be seen, replaced by a wet mop of jet-black hair. For a fleeting moment, you admire the mosaic of tattoos adorning his tanned skin before whipping your head back to focus on your nightly routine, finally placing the hair dryer down beside yourself. You blink a few times, noticing a rosy shade of pink dusting your pale cheeks and eyes wide enough to hold mini hearts. Soon after, you see Law approach you from behind in the mirror, his chest almost grazing your head as he reaches over to unplug the hair dryer, gingerly gathering it to use himself. The faint scent of hotel soap, mild tangerine and white tea float above you and dizzy your already jumbled senses as he walks back to the bathroom. You sit there in mild shock at the tiny gesture, thinking that Law seemed to linger there for a moment longer than needed. No matter what he did, Law was your own personal siren; your one true opponent in a world you once thought you conquered.

After some internal pep talk, you walk over to the bed, propping yourself up on two pillows as you nestle under thin, white blankets with a book in hand. You immediately feel the bed sink, signaling that Law has done the same, presumably with a book covering medicine.

“Uh… what are you reading?” Law cuts into the tension.

“It’s a book on the geography of the new world,” you respond, your nose still in said book (though you’re not entirely paying attention to it, as talking to Law is much more enthralling). “A pirate on the Oro Jackson wrote it. Not an easy find.”

“I can imagine it wasn’t easy. You’re into geography?” Law pries his gaze off his book.

“Not particularly. I just thought the book seemed interesting. Besides, the knowledge could help us.”

“Thanks for the research, but I think we’re good. I trust Bepo as a navigator.” Law gives a ghost of a smile at the last remark, either at the thought of his best friend or the sentiment of you helping him.

“What about you? Another doctor book?” you inquire, scanning the cover of the book in Law’s hands.

“Yeah. This one’s about medicinal herbs, I’m thinking about finding some on the islands we’ll come across.”

“You’re very dedicated to your work,” you compliment your crush with a glimmer in your eyes. Law’s commitment is truly admirable; you adore how intelligent he is.

“I guess,” Law shrugs. He yawns, placing the book on the nightstand beside him. “Mind if I turn the light off? We need to wake up early.”

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, the beating of your heart becoming a little too loud for your liking as the reality of your situation sets in.

Does he feel even a bit the same way that I do right now?

Law reaches over to turn off the lamp next to him, leaving the light of the full moon to creep through sheer curtains, beautifully illuminating his sharp features. Law lies on his back, decorated arms crossed at his stomach, and you mirror him, even if it’s not the way you typically lie down to sleep. Silence passes, both parties secretly not sleeping a wink.

“Does it ever bother you?” You start, letting your words reverberate into the unfamiliar pitch black room. “It seems like the entire world is watching you. You were already a monster rookie to begin with, and now you’re a damn warlord.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, then you hear Law stir a bit. “You could say the same about yourself. You joined my crew, after all.” 

You smirk, turning your head to the side. Though you can’t see him too well, your heart swells at the thought of your face being so close to his. You silently thank the gods that you’re able to see such a handsome man this close, even with his heavy eyes and messy hair.

“I don’t think about it much. I guess it’s because I’ve been scrutinized all my life that it doesn’t bother me. I did this to myself, after all.”

“I assume you have your own reasons for being a warlord, but I won’t pry,” you respond softly.

“You’ll find out eventually. We have to face it all pretty soon,” Law sighs. “It’ll be a lot to handle.” Whatever baggage he has, you can tell it claws at him, even now.

“We’re pirates, Law, we handle tough situations all the time. I’m… happy to go through it for your sake. I mean, for the sake of the crew.” Way to cover that up at the end.

Law smiles, genuinely, at your last remark, though the darkness covers it and he turns his head to the side so you won’t see. He conceals his feelings most of the time, but when he’s truly thankful, it shows. And for you, he is eternally grateful for.

~

The moonlight of the night before is long forgotten as the morning sun engulfs the hotel room, filling your senses just enough to pull you out of slumber. To your surprise, you’re no longer at one edge of the bed, but in the middle, wrapped in Law’s arms as if you never woke up from your dream. Your eyes widen completely, breath hitching in your throat as you feel Law stir awake and see the same shock in his eyes as soon as they open. You both scramble away from each other, mumbled apologies escaping raspy morning voices as you gather yourselves. 

“I uh,” you start, “did not intend on that. I swear.” Shit, he definitely felt my heartbeat.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Law shakes his head awake, trying to understand why it felt so wrong to pry himself away from your warmth. He looks over to see you slightly shivering, clearly at a loss from warmth as well.

He hesitates before his next proposal. “Come here, you’re cold,” he says, extending his arm out. You pause as well, not believing your ears, before slowly bringing yourself back into Law’s chest, his arms gingerly wrapping back around you. You’re both stiff for a few moments, the rhythms of two hearts like taiko drums in the otherwise silent room.

“Is this okay, y/n-ya?” Law whispers into your hair, still stiff against you.

You smile weakly into his skin. “Yeah, it is. Don’t do this for me, though.”

“I’m not.”

Your heart leaps at the confession of Law actually wanting to be this close to you, and your shoulders finally relax into his touch as you allow yourself to relish in his warmth. He follows suit, pulling you a little closer and closing his eyes in serenity. Silence follows again as you both become overwhelmed in the feeling of touch, limbs entangled and gentle grazes of hands on skin sending you both to heaven. It doesn’t take long until you both accidentally succumb to sleep once again, and miss the free breakfast Law had intended to wake up on time for. The extra time together more than makes up for it, though.

[comingyourlugubriousness]

I wrote this a long time ago for Twst SMAU. Some lore on how Ghost King! Idia and Mario!Yume meet! I have a general plot planned, but right now I'm working on Ghost Marriage lore so I'm not sure when I'll get around to it! I have lots of fun with this au though! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

Enjoy! Writing under the cute!

Title: Ghost King Join's the Party!

Length: 6.5k words

“Whe he he!~ It’s finally finished!” Idia giggled, his sinister laughter echoing throughout the dark, cold dungeon. 

“This is gonna be the one for sure, no way he gets out of this one!” He assured himself, and himself alone as there was no other soul in the room with him. His ghostly underlings were all at their posts; awaiting the expected arrival of one, said Yuuta Midori. Idia sighed, his brows furrowing at the thought of his rival. 

During their last encounter Yuuta had “beaten” him…that part wasn’t…really uncommon. Yuuta interrupting his plans was a constant plague on his life to the point where he was genuinely worried about the amount of free time Yuuta had. But, even though Idia never won their encounters in a literary sense he had always gotten what he needed to do.

Sure, Yuuta may have stopped him from summoning an undead army, but he had gotten away with the necromantic book he needed with the spell. So in a way he was the true “winner” in their game. That is until last time….

Absent-mindedly, he touched the top of his head. A place where his family’s crown was supposed to be sitting.

“How annoying…freaking goodie goodie…” He grumbled to himself. Idia got careless with their last encounter. When trying to steal those parts for his machines he ended up losing his crown. 

“It wasn’t my fault!” He groaned aloud, drearily pacing back and forth as he talked to himself. 

“Those Toads wouldn’t sell anything to me! Just because I had some “terrifying and scary Boo's” with me.” He put finger quotes and rolled his eyes as hard as he could. 

“So what if they scared a few people!?” He shrugged. “I needed the parts way more than them!” He pointed at himself indignantly, as if he was having an intense debate with someone.”They weren’t utilizing the parts to their full potential! Just letting them rust away in a corner because they were too STUPID to see its value!” He growled, the long blue flames of his hair blazing a harsh red for a second as he kicked a loose rock on the floor.

 Idia yelped as it actually kinda of hurt his foot…

“But would that wannabe anti-hero with a mom complex hear me out?! Noooooo of course not!~ Cuz I’m just the gross, creepy, shut-in who lives with dead people!!” He complained dramatically, hopping up and down on one foot until the pain subsided. Idia’s voice simply echoed off the empty walls of his family's old castle dungeon. Only the slight jangling of chains in the wind through the cracks in the walls responded back to him…He stood there for a few moments soaking in the lonely silence as his face went passive and expressionless. 

It was fine…he was used to it by now…

Idia sighed, feeling ashamed that he was once again getting himself so worked up in a conversation by himself. How pathetic…

“Well…I guess it doesn’t matter. Once I capture that wannabe hero, I’ll make him give me back my crown.” He grinned widely at the idea, his sharp teeth on full display.

“We just have to-Hm?” He stopped, hearing a notification sound from his tablet. He lifted his cloak, sticking his hand through it to the pocket dimension inside and pulling out of his tablet. Unlocking it to check his security cameras feeds.

“What the-?!” Idia’s brows furrowed and he leaned forward; hunching close to the screen. 

There he saw a chaotic scene; dozens of his Boo subjects all scattering around, panicked expressions on their faces. They all flitted about, desperately finding places to hide and disappearing into old furniture. Through the blurs of barely transparent ghosts he could see the rooms of his family’s castle were a wreck, more so than usual, as if battles had taken place. Remnants of his puzzles and traps that he had so strategically placed were either rendered obsolete or smashed to smithereens. 

Did Yuuta do this?? It usually took him longer to solve Idia’s traps and he NEVER scared any of his subjects like this, usually they did the scaring!

Idia watched as one Boo ran right into one of his security cameras cracking the lens. What was his name…? Herbert? Idia wasn’t sure. He was never good at recognizing all their faces and remembering their names… it was always Ortho who…

His train of thought was interrupted as someone stepped in the camera frame. 

Due to the crack in the camera lens, Idia couldn’t make out any details, but he saw the Boo shriek and scrambled to get away. A blurred motion approaching the camera was the last thing he saw before it was busted. The camera feed going offline. 

Idia winced and sneered in annoyance thinking about how he’d have to replace that camera now. Though he felt himself beginning to sweat as he cycled through the other camera feeds, trying to identify or even catch a glimpse of his intruder. But he never could, they were always just out of sight of the camera angles or moving too fast for him to get a clear picture. Just a red blur? He swallowed hard; he couldn’t help but notice that the cameras he was following were getting closer and closer to his current location.

“Gah, geez what’s with this horror movie atmosphere!” He bemoaned, growling in frustration as another camera was destroyed, just one room away from the dungeon he was currently standing in. A few seconds later he heard a bang from outside the door. 

“Wha-! O-oh forget this!” He said, closing his tablet and stuffing it in his cloak. 

“N-n-nothing w-wrong with a strategic retreat! H-hehe?” he said to himself, laughing, nervously as he hurried to gather his tools and keys.

*THUMP*

He jumped in place and failed to hold back a high pitched shriek, his tools falling around his feet; as the heavy wooden dungeon door entrance was suddenly struck.

“O-Oh! Oh, shit!” Idia looked around frantically. The banging on the door continued relentlessly. It wouldn’t hold forever. 

Usually he would just phase through the walls to escape, but that was impossible here. The dungeon was designed to imprison even ghosts. He could try to take this threat head on, but without his crown his powers were so nerfed he could BARELY use them to fight. He let out a nervous noise, stepping around his trap's trigger, and cramming himself into a corner of one of the dungeon cells, crudely kicking an ancient skeleton aside as he did. 

With one final *thunk* the dungeon door fell off its hinge, a cloud of dust puffing up and a deafening bang reverberated off the old stone walls. Idia cautiously peeked from his hiding spot, looking to see this new enemy…

-

.

“Whoa~!” Yume yelped as they fell through the door. A small ‘oof’ escaping them as they tripped on the door.

“Oww…” They groaned into the hard wood where they face planted. Maybe they used a little too much force on that last swing? They thought, clumsily stumbling to their feet. They gently dusted themselves off, taking extra care to clean their monogrammed hat. Yu went to adjust their glasses only to realize they weren’t on their face.

“Ah, my glasses!” They panicked for a second looking around the dark room until they found them only a few feet away. They sighed in relief, putting them back on and taking stock of their surroundings. 

Yume glanced around the room, which looked to be a dungeon of sorts. A majority of the area was shrouded in shadows; only a bit of light coming from dull torches of blue flames. They could hear the slight jingling of chains as the cold air drifted through the room. Yume grimaced, their knees buckling for a second at the idea of exploring this creepy place. 

Ugh! They should have gotten a flashlight like Yuuta told them. They jogged in place for a moment to calm their nerves.  I’ll be okay, just some dumb little creep, I can take him! His puzzles weren’t even that difficult! Yume took a deep breath to calm down. Their face settling into one of determination.They would be fine, they just had to keep their guard up. 

With that thought in mind they grabbed the handle of their hammer, pulling it from where it was wedged into the door. The old sturdy wood splintered under the head of the iron hammer head and they made a small noise of effort as they lifted the blunt weapon over their shoulder.

“Eek-!” An unknown noise echoed in the chamber.

Yume whipped their head around towards the direction of the noise, but all they could see was darkness. Their first instinct was to call out, but they hesitated for a moment. Was it an enemy? Or…maybe someone who needed help? They bit their lip unsure if they should speak…

“Hellooo? Is someone there?” They called out, their voice echoing across the chamber. They felt slightly silly at how much they sounded like a dumb horror movie victim. But if someone was here then…well…it’s not like they hadn’t heard Yu come in.

Yume waited a few seconds, but got no response. They let out a breath through their nose…guess I have to do this the hard way. With that final thought, Yu tightened their grip on their hammer as they slowly and methodically began searching the room .

-

Idia held his hands over his mouth. Shit that was close!! He hadn’t meant to make that noise! He scolded himself for acting like a dumb protag in horror movies, the very ones he always rolled his eyes at!

 ‘C’mon think, Idia think, you're better than those idiot normie throw away characters!’ He swallowed hard, finding it difficult to focus as he heard the intruder stepping around in and opening doors in the other cells. Each time getting closer and closer to his current location.. He couldn’t run away, the enchantment on the dungeon walls prevented even ghosts from phasing through them and if he tried to run through the open entrance they would definitely see him!

The footsteps came closer.

He could try to fight but without his crown he was severely underleveled! He didn’t know the stats of this intruder yet, but if what he saw on the camera was any indication they were not just some random noob! He could easily get K.O’d if he wasn’t careful!

The creak of the cell door next to his opened.

Gah-! He was running out of time he-! Idia felt himself start to hyperventilate. 

The footsteps were right outside the cell. 

He hated this, why couldn’t people just leave him alone!? Is what he was doing really such a crime?! He just wanted to be left alone! Why couldn’t they leave him alone? He wished he was anywhere else, he wished Ortho was here, he wished he could just disappear from the face of this earth for good! 

Idia heard the door to the cell creak open and he gasped. Blinking away the tears and instinctually cowering and covering his face to hide. His bloodline powers activated automatically, making him invisible where he stood.

He held his breath as the intruder stepped around the cell, he could hear them, walking around towards each corner carefully until they got to his. They were so close, Idia could tell without even seeing them. Cautiously, he peeked through his fingers, trying to see this interloper up close…

Big brown eyes stared directly at him and he almost screamed in shock, but caught himself as he realized they couldn’t actually see him. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact regardless.

He moved his fingers aside just a bit to see them more fully.

Idia wasn’t sure what he expected, maybe a huge monster or a large buff dude but…instead this person was actually rather short…? Glasses resting on their rosy round cheeks, wavy curls framing a soft face, and a small pout their plump lips as they carefully examined the corner he was hiding in. Huh? Who…? His eyes trailed down, catching a familiar attire

Short overalls and a monogrammed hat? Yuuta wore something like this though in a different way…was this person…related to him in some way? Did he send them? Idia thoughts raced, his curiosity starting to overtake his anxiety. 

If that was the case then…it's possible that they weren’t that much stronger than Yuuta… maybe they were even more of a scardy cat then him? At the thought a mischievous sharp tooth grin split on his face as he got an idea. A way to get this nuisance out of his hair AND avoid a fight with some NPC of unknown lvl. He just had to do what Boo’s did best.

As the person turned away from the corner, stepping over something and kneeling down to examine the entrance to the cell, Idia saw his chance. 

Idia released his breath, making himself visible and with all the remaining strength he had left called upon his power to shift into his ghostly form. He felt his figure grow, his wispy cloak merging with his body.  His tongue lolled out of his mouth as his mouth unhinged, displaying his rows of razor sharp teeth, his face twisting and distorting in an unsettling nightmarish visage. He loomed over his capture, now turned victim. Idia took a deep breath as he prepared himself to let out an unholy scream and hopefully scared them to death.

 He took a step forward, getting closer and closer, waiting for just the right moment…

**Click** 

Idia looked down with wide eyes, seeing the trigger of the trap release. Oh n-

Idia couldn’t even finish his thought as the trapped sprung and he yelped as metal sheets on the floor quickly folded up around him, locking him in a metal box. He couldn’t even scream as the small area encased him, forcing him to fold his body like a tetris piece just to fit.

“AHH-! WHAT THE FUCK!” He heard the intruder scream, then a loud metal thunk hit the trap. 

“S-shit!” Idia choked out, finding it hard to breathe. The trap wasn’t made for someone his size in mind. He tried to shift his knees to sit in a better position. 

This was fine, this was completely fine! He just had to get the remote from his pocket to release the trap. With great effort he shimmied his hand to his pocket to find…

…It empty?

“…!”

SHIT! HE MUST HAVE LEFT IT SOMEWHERE ON THE FLOOR! He had thought he would have more time to prepare before Yuuta came!

“No no nononono!” He whined and began hyperventilating again as he tried to kick and pound at the trap. Unfortunately, it was working perfectly as intended, leaving him with no hope of escaping on his own. What was he going to do?! It could be days before one of his subjects found him?!

A few seconds later three hesitant knocks on the container broke him out of his panic. 

-

“Umh…H-hello? I-is someone in there?” Yume asked carefully, their hand on their chest to calm their still racing heart. What the fuck just happened? One second the cell was empty and then they heard a horrible loud noise? And now this metal box was here?? And it was making noises?! Where did it come from?? Did it fall from the ceiling…?

There was no response from the box. So, reluctantly, Yume leaned forward and cautiously knocked again; pressing their ear to the side of the container. A few seconds passed but this time they did manage to get a response.

“H-help…!” A feeble male voice choked out. If Yume wasn’t literally pressed up against the box they definitely wouldn’t be able to hear it. Yume gasped, placing their palm against the box.

“Help?! Who are you?! Are you okay? How can I help?!” They asked in rapid fire, their instinct to aid beginning to take over. Yu automatically grabbed their hammer, thinking maybe they could just smash the trap, but then they noticed. The spot they hit earlier didn’t even have a dent…Even if they pounded away at this thing all day; it might not budge...

“The trap is too sturdy-! I don’t think I can break it!” Yume explained. They squished their cheek up against the box; now able to hear the labored breathing of whoever was inside. Yume frowned, their worry for this person increasing with every second.

“H-Hey, it's okay, it’s okay! We’ll figure this out…!” They said, trying to calm the person. An unsure noise came from inside. 

“I mean it!” They tried to reassure them again. “I heard that this guy always has an out for these kinds of things, there must be a way to free you? A-A key somewhere or-!” They did a quick once over of the cell but found nothing. Then the prisoner piped up.

“R-r-re-remote…!” His voice stuttered. 

A remote? Yume thought, then like a lightbulb they remembered. A remote! Yume reached into their pocket, pulling out the strange device they had found earlier in one of the rooms upstairs. They didn’t know what it was then, but thought it seemed important. Definitely a key item! Maybe the Ghost King had dropped it and misplaced it? HA! What a total idiot!

“Hang on! I’m gonna try something!” They said, taking a few steps back.

“H-hurry…!” The voice pleaded.

Yume held the device out at arms length, leaning slightly away, and pressed their thumb down on the almost comically large red button.

A satisfying *click*, sounded. Something inside the trap whirled and the metal plating shifted rapidly as the coffin-like trap began to unfold itself. The top of the box popped open like a trapped door. A cartoonish spring noise sounded, and the person screamed as they were quickly and forcefully ejected upwards out of the trap.

“Whoa-!” Yume’s eyes followed the motion, holding on to their hat as a blur of blue flew up past them.

-

Idia let out a shriek as he was ejected into the air. After being tumbled around in the trap he was completely disoriented, he couldn’t tell up from down; the whole world was LITERALLY spinning. Were his traps always this messed up? A few moments later he felt a moment of equilibrium, before gravity overtook, sending him plummeting down.

He was falling? Time almost seemed to slow down around him. Since he’d inherited his crown it was a sensation he’d forgotten…Was he going to die?  The thought crossed his mind matter of factly before the panic set in. N-No he couldn’t, he still had so much to do-! He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he fell, faster and faster. Idia pinched his eyes shut and tried to brace himself for the cold unforgiving stone floor…

.

.

.

“Gotcha!” Yume grunted, their small arms wrapping around the prisoner. Even as they caught him the force of the fall was a little too much for them and they both fell to the floor. Yume let out a groan as they fell flat on their butt. The person bouncing on their lap as Yu’s own body cushioned most of the fall. It knocked the wind out of Yume so they tried to take a few deep breaths. 

“Ack!” Yume wheezed as they were suddenly squeezed in a tight hold. Long arms wrapped around their waist as the trembling prisoner clinged to them like a lifeline. Wisps of blue overtook their vision as the person buried themselves in Yume’s shoulder. They felt small panicked breaths hitting their neck as the person hyperventilated.

The sudden closeness started Yume and they were a little embarrassed, but they set that aside, their practiced heroic persona taking over. 

“Hey hey, shh… it's okay…” They cooed, gently rubbing the prisoners back. Yume tried to pull them back a bit so he wasn't sitting directly on their lap. But, he  flinched at the contact, letting out a small whimper. He clutched the back of Yume’s hoodie more intensely, bunching up the fabric. 

Yume sighed, but relented, tentatively setting their arms around the person.

“Okay okay, you don’t have to let go.” They murmured softly, it wasn’t the first time they had to comfort a panicking victim, but usually it was only children who clingged to them like this. Though this person was clearly not a child, their tall frame almost completely enveloped Yume. If it wasn’t for how thin they were, Yume might have been knocked flat on the ground. Absent-mindedly they moved their hands around his waist. Actually, they were REALLY THIN! Yume’s brows pinched up in worry.

-

Idia was beside himself, he couldn’t think straight. It wasn’t the first time he had a panic attack like this, but this was one of the worse he’d had in awhile. Ironically, the only thing keeping him together right now was the very person who caused his composure to crumble in the first place. He hadn’t meant to cling to them, sure, it was a natural instinct when falling but… then he felt it…

The warmth of another living person…he had almost forgotten what it was like. Idia shivered as soft warm palms rubbed his back.

“...How long have you been here?” The intruder asked, sounding concerned.

How long? How long had he been here? In this castle; a glorified prison for his cursed family?  He wasn’t thinking straight, a part of him knew that wasn’t what they meant but…

“Forever…” The words just came out.

 “...I-I-’ve-” Idia struggled to speak, cringing at his own voice and giving up the thought halfway, choosing instead to steal more warmth from this person and burying his face in their neck. He caught a whiff of a fruity smell he couldn’t identify, but strangely it calmed him. 

The stranger didn’t seem to mind, in fact they held him closer, a hand soothingly patting his head.

“Shh…it’s alright, I’ll protect you… '' They said the words softly, but with conviction. Even in Idia’s skeptical mind it sounded reassuring. Though, it was the next words that really got to him.

“You're not alone anymore.” The person whispered to him as if it was a promise. 

Idia tensed, the words making him freeze in place. His brain jump started as he suddenly registered EVERYTHING that was happening. Where he was, who he was with, the position he was in. The scenario and sensations overwhelmed him, making him hyper aware of every stimuli in the room.

What the hell was he doing? 

At the thought he pushed the intruder away, scrambling away from them.

They let out a noise of surprise at the sudden shove.

“G-get away-!” Idia choked out, all at once the warmth from before left him, sharpening his focus. Idia crawled away until his back hit the cell bars and he anxiously gripped one. Uncomfortably pushing himself into the cold steel to get as physically far away from this person as possible. NO ONE had ever made him drop his guard like that? Was it some kind of weird power?  In his mind they were even more dangerous now then when they were just some OP freak with a hammer. 

-

The push knocked Yume to the floor. They grunt in pain as they felt their elbows skinned against unforgiving stone. They recovered quickly. 

“Ow! Hey! That hurt!”  They growled, giving into their first instinct to get angry. They were only trying to help this person and this is what they get. Geez! 

“What’s your fucking issue?!” Yume shouted as they sat up to glare at the person, puffing up their cheeks at him. Though their anger dissipated once they set eyes on this person; vaguely registering that this was the first time they could see him clearly. 

Bright golden eyes trembling with fear met Yume’s. A glint of sharp teeth peaked from his mouth, nervously biting thin blue lips. His pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness. The illusion only became more prominent due to the actual flames of long blue hair; cascading wildly around his shoulders and back; framing his mature angular face.  

Yume blinked twice, taking in the appearance of this person, a person who just a few seconds ago was sitting in their lap. Their face heated up now at the idea.

“Oh…You’re…” Yume started to say ‘beautiful’, but caught themselves, as they saw the man’s shoulders hike. Yu trailed off…losing their nerve to say what they wanted. They took a moment to collect themselves, clearing their throat..

“-You're safe.” Yu said, firmly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible; thought still a nervous laugh escaped them. “Y’know what, here let's uhm, start over!” They said kindly, shifting to sit on their knees. They clear their throat again, their nerves suddenly spiking  as they realized they were meeting a stranger.

“ H-hi, I’m Yume Ume! Part Time Hero! ” They tried to smile, voice a little too loud and gungho; as they awkwardly put their hand out for him to shake. He jumped at the loud volume of their voice and tried to lean back even more at the quick movement. Eyes shifting back and forth at Yume’s hand, and expression, skeptically.  He made no move to shake their hand, but raised an eyebrow at their introduction.

-

“Part time Hero”, that was the way Yuuta introduced themselves to people sometimes, too. Idia didn’t say anything but made note of it. A more pressing concern plaguing his mind right now.

“U-Uhmm…” He started speaking, cringing at his own stutter.

 “A-aren’t y-you….g-gonna to attack m-me? O-or s-something” Idia muttered, he knew he should try and put on his villain persona, but his head was pounding. He felt so weak, he must have used too much of his power… 

Yume’s eyebrows hiked up in surprise. 

“Huh?!” They were confused for a second, so he shifted his eyes to their hammer lying in arms reach. They followed his gaze.  “Oh! Oh no! No!” They said quickly, pushing the hammer away. It slid further across the floor, clunking loudly till it hit the wall.

“That’s not for you! That’s only for bad guys!” They said, holding their hands up in a placating gesture. Idia paused, his eyes widening and jaw going slack as he realized…

This person…this Yume…had no idea who he was.

“What’s your name?” They asked, further proving his assumption. 

“O-oh! I..umh…” It’s been a long time since he introduced himself to anyone. Part of him understood, why would anyone want the name of some freak like him. Even the moniker of ‘Ghost King’ was given to him.  Nobody, not even his subjects called him by his real name anymore…no one did, not since Ortho… He shook off the thought, not trying to go down that train of thought.

“M-my n-name-i-ts uh-!” He hesitated, bringing his knees to his chest and fiddling with his fingers. Unsure if he should tell them… In the end he decided it wouldn’t be worth the trouble of keeping up a lie.

“I-Idia j-just…Idia.” He whispered, peeking up at them through his bangs. Yume smiled at him.

“Idia…” They repeated, giving a little nod of approval. “That’s a nice name!” They said so sincerely it made Idia’s stomach churn a bit. Even so his face still heated up at the compliment, he wasn’t used to them. They went on, leaning into him a bit.

“Listen Idia, my brother, Yuuta! He sent me here to stop something the Ghost King was planning, I’ve searched this place to to bottom, but I still can’t find him, I don’t think he’s here so-”

“Wait-! YUUTA IS YOUR BROTHER?!” He asked in disbelief, leaning into them as well. Yume leaned back not expecting him to suddenly raise his voice.

“Yeah…have you met him?” They asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“O-oh n-not I-I’ve just uhh…h-heard of him…! Y-yeah, talk f-from the dungeon g-guards ehehe…” He lied, chuckling nervously, pushing his index finger together to stim.Yume frowned looking at him with sympathetic eyes.

“You… must have been trapped here for a while, huh?” Then their brows furrowed. “No wonder you look so thin and pale! That guy is gonna pay!” Yume said seriously, bawling up their fists till they shook. 

Idia let out a quiet noise as if he had been stabbed; any confidence he had plummeted to the floor and shattered, and he hunched in on himself.

“I c-can’t help how I look…!” He grumbled gloomily. Honestly, he had been called much worse by others, but for some reason the comments from Yume stung extra hard. He didn’t try to dwell on why.

“Ah-! Nono-! I didn’t mean-!” They tried, but Idia interrupted them.

“H-how do you plan on beating the Ghost king anyway!?” He asked,  looking at them curiously. This whole thing was a big epic fail, definitely one for his cringe comp. But maybe he could get some useful information from someone so close to his nemesis.

“O-oh well!” Yume pushed up their glasses. “ Yuuta told me the last time they fought, he managed to steal the Ghost King’s crown. We didn’t know much about it or how it worked. So, I was worried it might be dangerous, y’know?” They gave a small shrug. 

“Like, bro I love you. But you can’t just take freaky villain shit without knowing what it is!” They explained, and gestured their hand out as if it was an obvious conclusion. “Like that thing could be cursed for all we know!” They said, throwing their arms up dramatically. 

Idia’s eyes widened and how close to the mark they were, but he didn’t say anything.

“Anywho,  I took it upon myself to do a little research on the crown so my brother gave it to me and-”

“YOU HAVE MY CROWN!” Idia blurted, forgetting himself for a moment and scrambling closer to them; scanning Yume up and down to find it. Their posture turned a bit sheepish, seeming to be nervous at suddenly having Idia’s full attention.

“Oh no not on me I- '' Yume paused, Idia’s words catching up with them. 

“Your crown?” They repeated, tilting their head and looking at Idia with narrow eyes. Idia let out a noise of shock, only now realizing what he had said as well.

“O-oh! I meant- W-what I meant is um-” He stumbled over his words, bawling his hands to his chest. Unable to come up with a lie to cover it. HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID! He internally screamed at himself. 

“Wait a second…yellow eyes…and blue flames….” Yume said, their eyes carefully scanning over his features, he could practically see the gears turning in their head…

GAH, THIS WAS IT HE WAS SO DONE FOR! GAME, SET, MATCH! Idia’s eyes darted around, back once again in trying to find a way out of this situation. But there was nothing he could do, even if he ran they would definitely catch him.

“You…you're…” Yume continued. And Idia swallowed nervously, pinching his eyes shut and preparing his mental tombstone: “Death by hammer”.

“...A SHROUD!” Yume said confidently with a look of awe on their face.

“Huh?!” Idia said dumbfounded, his body untensing. It wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.

“Yeah..?” Idia nodded.”H-how did you know?” He asked genuinely surprised. His family was considered the stuff of legends. They weren’t recorded in any historic literature; at least not traditionally. Whispers of the Shrouds only came up in myths or sometimes tales of cautions.

Yume gasped, doing an excited little dance at being correct. Then they propped their hands on their hips, looking proud that their prediction was true. 

“I KNEW IT! Well not ‘knew it’, but it all makes sense!” They began speaking passionately.

 “All the books I read about the crown mentioned a family with ghostly powers that passed down the crown from generation to generation! Some books even theorized that the bloodline had ended long ago, but they were all so ambiguous and never had definitive proof! A story that inspired so much mythology couldn’t have been based on a simple fairy tale! Gosh, I can’t believe it!” They rambled on passionately. Idia simply watched them, overwhelmed but…unable to take his eyes off them.

“Um-.” He tried, but Yume went on, speaking quickly and manically.

“And AND, you’ve been imprisoned here all this time! The Ghost King appeared only a few years ago, so that’s when he must have stolen it and learned how to unlock the secrets of your crown! By imprisoning you! AM I RIGHT?” They asked, sitting up on their knees leaning in only an inch from his face.

Idia laughed nervously, blushing at how close they were now. It took him a few seconds to process everything they said. They had really crafted this whole narrative in their head without Idia saying anything. But the scary thing was how almost accurate their theory was. Sure, they were just missing a few crucial details. But…they didn’t need to know that. 

“T-that’s right!” He lied, nodding quickly to agree with them. Yume’s mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape, and for just a second, Idia found himself having to hold back a genuine laugh at their expression. It was the same face he made when his favorite TV show theory got confirmed.

“Oh my gosh…what a conspiracy! Yuuta’s never gonna believe this!” They murmured to themself. “Like, ‘Hey bro, that thing we’re using as a paper weight at home, it's a legendary artifact of darkness from a royal family.  Hey, who would have thought; not me!” Yume said, mocking out the conversation 

“W-what, you just have it at your house-! Wh- A PAPER WEIGHT?!” He spluttered indignantly. “YOUR USING MY FAMILY CROWN AS A PAPERWEIGHT!?” 

“I mean…yeah.” Yume shrugged, tilting their head and sheepishly grinning at him. Idia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity.

“I need it back!” He said desperately, even going as far to reach over and tug a little on their sleeve. 

“A-ah okay okay, we can get it back…” Yume said, placatingly patting his hand. Their faced scrunched up in thought. “Hmm…well actually it's kinda of a long trip there and back…just going home for me is gonna be a journey in itself.” They murmured thinking to themselves for a few seconds, before their eyes widened; a creative sparkle to them.

“Oh I know! Here’s an idea!” They smiled. “You need your crown back and I need more info on the Ghost King! So, If you're willing to, I can escort you out of this place, and you can come back home with me to retrieve it!” They said.

“Hm?!” Idia’s first instinct was to grimace at the idea of leaving his land. Yume noticed his expression.

“Hear me out…!” They said, carefully placing a hand atop Idia’s. Idia noticed it, but decided not to yank his hand away to keep up appearance. The warmth was already spreading through his skin, even with his gloves on. Yume continued.

“This way we both can get what we need and besides I…well…” Yu looked away shyly. 

“I wouldn’t feel right leaving you behind-!” Idia watched their face flush a bit. 

“I mean-! S-someone who's never really been out in the world on their own! It would be hard to fend for yourself!” They flusteredly explained, looking back to him. 

“I have connections back home too, people who can help get you settled back into society…you must have been so scared and lonely…” They trailed off, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, before continuing.

“So…what do you say?” Yume asked, looking up at him through their long eyelashes, they almost looked…nervous? Idia didn’t understand why.

“Uhm…” He looked down, avoiding their gaze as he processed their words. They didn’t seem to mind; not pressuring him for a quick answer. He took a minute, running through all the possible scenarios in his head and came to a conclusion. His gut instinct was to tell them no, thank them for saving him and run off; when the “ghost was clear” pun intended. He could just return back to his castle and fortify his defenses. And apt strategy…however…This might be his best and only chance to get the crown back…and he needed it soon if his plans were ever going to come to fruition. He knew could never get it back with a full frontal attack, not with his debuff status ...but a stealth mission….that could work…he just had to play pretend, he could do that. He did that all the time as a child and even now.

Idia turned to them, doing his best to maintain eye contact. 

“O-okay…I-i'll take you up on the offer…p-please take care of me.” He stuttered, doing his best to give them a warm pleasant smile and not be “positively creepy” and “wonderfully unnerving” as he’d been told it was by his subjects. Gently, he gave the tiniest squeezed in return to Yume's hand.

Either Yume was a big weirdo or he did a halfway decent job, because they beamed at him, looking relieved.

“Great!” And they grinned, as if he had told them the best news in the world. They helped him to his feet as he shakily stood; smiling at him for a few moments longer before they seemed to remember themselves, looking away and chuckling nervously.

“Well then-!” Yume heaved up their hammer. A glint of what Idia recognized as magic sparkled for just a moment as they wound up a big swing towards a crack on the wall.

*BOOM*

 Idia jumped and let out a noise of surprise as a large section of the castle dungeon wall crumbled.

The dawn of the morning sun shone on the horizon and the birds chirped, signaling the start of a new day. It was so bright Idia had to shield his eyes and instinctively tried to take a step back into the shadows. Through the cracks of his fingers he saw Yume holding out their hand. The rays of light from the sun enveloping them and glinting off their glasses, making their warm olive skin almost seem to glow. 

Yume smiled at him with a kindness he’d never seen from a stranger…

“Let’s go!” They said cheerfully, flexing their hands for Idia to take. 

Their words broke him out of his stupor of awe and he stumbled towards them, nearly tripping over the debris, but at the last second Yu caught him, lacing their hands together to stabilize him. Idia blushed as they locked eyes, seeing nothing but pure sincerely on their face. How could they be like that with someone they just met, weren’t they embarrassed? Idia looked away, but couldn’t help but notice that somehow Yume’s palm felt warmer than the burning sun on his face. 

As they began climbing carefully down the hill of the crumbling rocks, Idia couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mess he was getting himself into.

It was fine…he just had to stick to the plan. 

No mess, no strings attached, just play pretend…that's all.

-

UI: IDIA HAS RELUCTANTLY JOINED THE PARTY!

[occasionally-good-ideas]

Void hopper

The Infinite Realms: the ‘void’ that separates dimensions, and the home of The Dead.

A boy sits alone in the void and writes about his travels

—————————————————————

It really is infinite!! time is non linear over all and all the realms/zones have their own ‘land’ formations and colors

so far I’ve seen:

—the classic green ‘ghost zone’ [that names a little bit inaccurate; there’s ghosts everywhere] green, a bit slimy, flouting islands, doors, ghosts with strong obsessions

—the ‘furthest ring’ that one’s mostly blank with… frogs?? And really BIG anncient entity’s [are they a specific type of ghost?] that blow bubbles into the void, ghosts that look eerily human sometimes make it out of the bubbles… don’t know what that’s about.

—the ‘Phantom zone’ (lmao) couldn’t get a real good look it’s gaurded really well, I saw clouds? Pilers and.. living? Villains?? Not dealing with that.

—one that’s all fire and rock, it’s inhabits are mostly skeletons and demons… I’m pretty sure it’s straight up Hell but I didn’t stick around to ask for a name.

——————————————————————

Danny closed his journal, he’s been wandering the Realms in both his forms for almost two years now, and it’s fun! Don’t get him wrong, it’s just- when there’s no ghosts around the silence gets… disturbing. So he goes about in human form! Thinks out loud and listens to his organs work. There pretty noisy when you’re not used to it.

Before he left His Realm, all those months ago, he packed a duffel bag with nonperishable food, under clothes [thin long sleeves, leggings, tang-tops and sweats] tools, weapons [blasters and knives mostly] and a blank book/writing stuff.

He’d put on a hazmat/jumpsuit like the one he died in, steal toed boots, and modified fenton phones he calls ‘coms’ and headed to the Ghost Zone. On his travels he picked up a black coat, utility belt and a cool viser that gets compacted into his coms

He hasn’t visually aged past 16, he’s got no idea if that’s cause he’s in the Zone or it’s All Him. still 5’3 and well- not ‘baby faced’ but not all that sharp.

Right now, he’s sitting on an empty island, watching the swirling purple, pink and orange sky as he picks at the dull red grass after finishing his latest little journal entry.

“Huh” the ‘clouds’ of this place shift abruptly as they hit a wall-like membrane on the far side of this… area/realm/zone “It kinda looks like a wall…” a cave? he looks more closely at the horizons around him “yeah there’s another one… walls…” walls between what?

He packs his book and writing stuff into its pocket of his bag, gets into a crouch at the edge of the island he was sitting at and kicks of, watching his black hair drift around his face as his momentum carries him towards one of the ‘walls’.

When he’s close enough he reaches out a hand, the wall is… soft? Like rubbery- not so much a WALL-wall but like a lining, kinda flesh-like and living “Woah…” awe and intrigue lace his voice as he presses and runs his hands over the barrier to feel it move. Some areas seem… thinner? Easier to move deffinetly, one part in particular feels about as thick as a half filled water balloon, so thin “what if iiiii”

he pushed into the thin spot, not expecting much when he felt it give, a deep hum filling the air around him the smell of rain filled his nose and static ozone filled his mouth as a force pulled him forward by the hand that used to be on the wall “Oh FU-“

He’d torn a hole through the barrier and was now /Free-falling/ on the Other Side.

Rain pelts his face as he falls, so that’s where that smell came from! He wills off gravity in order to slow his fall.

Now he’s falling at the same speed as the rain instead of faster, he opens his eyes to see- the rain drops. At this speed they look still, suspended in air refracting the dappled light of the sun through the clouds. Like silver stars on a backdrop of gray clouds and green- green?? What’s green?

He looks up- or, is it down… towards the ground. Which is still rapidly approaching! Turns out rain drops fall pretty fast. He quickly scans the forest for a good place to land… “that’ll do”

He lands in a bush that splinters under the force of his fall, some of the sturdier branch’s don’t snap and end up stabbing Danny through his right leg, the skin of his waist- no guts thank the ancients, and two places in his right arm. “FUCK WHY?! AUGHCK” he takes a deep breath in, holds it then lets it out “huuhhhh this looks so much better in cartoons- ooookay how do iiiiii-“ wait a minute.. he’s a ghost! He turns intangible, falls through the Death Bush and rolls on to his back in the clearing the bush was bordering.

“Well that… could’ve gone worse! At least the rain feels nice..” and the rain does feel nice, refreshing in a way that’s hard to come by in the realms, it drums gently on his face and suit as he calms down, rinsing the blood away from quickly healing wounds.

As he lies on the grass catching his breath, rain soothing his scratched skin, breathing in the smell of mud and wet leaves, blood long washed away, tasting fresh water as the rain seeps into his mouth.He feels Alive.

He lets gravity push him into the mud “hehe squish” he laughs at the sky, giddy and a bit out of it as the adrenaline settles.

“Ha! how far did I fall??” He sits up clicks the button on his com to activate his visor. The screen materializes in a wave of rectangular pixels from one com to the other. Looking up, now he can see the tear about ehhhh four story’s up? Pretty dang high to get Launched from.

“Huh I… tore a hole through a ‘wall’ in the zone… and ended up in the mortal world… was that the veil?? I thought that was a metaphor..” he mumbled that last part.

That hum when he broke through, it resonated in his core like intangibility cranked up to 10, a familiar frequency kind of like when wulf would open portals- “Ancients I made a portal!!! Wow that’s really obvious. How did I not get that until now?!?” If he could make a portal out. That means he can make one going in.

Reaching for that Hum, he feels himself shift through the planes of reality like turning a nob to find the right radio station. He focuses on his core, feeling himself pass all planes of human perception -he closes his eyes as the world around him becomes a flashing mess of unknown colors and seemingly meaningless shapes- Trying to get it to match the Hum from before- There!

Eyes still closed, Danny listens closely… that’s it! That bone deep Hum. When he opens his eyes the first thing he notes is that the world has reformed from that splotchy haze it was before, the second thing is The Veil, translucent Walls criss crossing over Everything like a spider web made three-dimensional. “Woah…”

He slowly reaches out a hand to touch one of the walls- part of The Veil man that’s so cool! It feels… less fleshy, more flexible, it has more give without breaking. “Cool!!” Now to make a portal back, he pushes on the veil like before and… it just stretches. Hm.

Maybe it just takes more effort going this way, he pushes harder on the stretchy membrane, nope it just stretches! “Hm. Okay” Danny takes a few steps back, “how about, this-“ he runs headfirst into the wall, and promptly gets thrown back by said wall. “DANG IT man it was so easy to get through the first time what gives!?” He punches the wall, nothing. He kicks it, nope nothing. He starts clawing at the wall trying to dig through it but nothing is WORKING- he slammed both fists into the veil and they bounce back and hit him in the face. “AUGH”

ok this isn’t working. He takes a step back and takes a breath, he looks around at the shattered glass like walls around him, some are thick, others thin. They reach up into the sky and don’t seem to rely on anything physical to keep them in place… nothing physical. how about non-physical?

He gatherers plasma in the palm of his hand, when the Plasma Ball is about as big as a tennis ball he chucks it full force at the section of the veil he’s been abusing for the last ten minutes, the wall makes a sizzling sound as the plasma makes contact and then the plasma- gets absorbed?? Soaked up like coffee on paper, “well. It did something at least”

What about electricity? The black haired boy walks up to the flimsy, deceptively strong membrane, he squares his shoulders, places his left hand on the veil. he lets the energy build for a moment before sending it running. It shoots past his shoulder and races down his arm in arks of electric yellow/green till it shocks the barrier. The veil goes stiff like brittle rubber under his fingertips -now-

Hand still on the wall he curls his fingers and claws into the weakened veil. It crumbles under his hand, releasing the acidic smell of the pure ectoplasm of the realms, an opening. He quickly gets his other hand in the tear and struggles to pull it open, he can see reality fold and ripple as the hole in The Veil opens into a portal just large enough to fly through.

He takes a step back, eyes wide under his visor, he lets out a deep exhale that frosts the air around him “woah” breath heavy with adrenaline he looks at the portal, small oval shaped and swirling electric green and ice blue. He looks down at his hands electricity still sparking between them and his just-now-noticed claws. When did that happen? His usually blunt nails have grown to sharpened points, pressing against the tough rubber of his gloves but not breaking through.

A mischievous grin split his face revealing sharp fangs, “oh this is gonna be fun”

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (29)

Farleigh and I leave Saltburn with little fanfare. No one sees us out the door, and we have to get a cab to get to the airport. We sit the eight hours of the flight mostly in silence.

It’s strange to be back home, after a year away - after the tumultuous summer. Back in Brooklyn, Cambridge and Saltburn seem so far away, almost in a different world. It seems more like a book I read rather than the past year of my life - but the illusion is broken by Farleigh’s footsteps behind me as we lug our bags up the stairs to my apartment. It’s real - it was real and Farleigh is here with me.

At the top of the stairs, I stop, setting down my bag to dig in the pocket of my jeans for my keys. I slot the key into the lock, and shoulder the door open.

My apartment is exactly the same as I left it a year ago - a time capsule to before. I reach back into the hall to grab my bag and tug it inside, holding the door open so Farleigh can slide inside as well. I let the door shut, and watch as he takes in the room. Just him being here makes everything I own seem so small. 

“This is it.” I say, trying for a smile. “I know it’s way smaller than what you’re used to-”

Farleigh turns to look at me. “It’s nice.” He says. “It suits you.”

I set my bag down, and clap my hands together. “Kitchen’s there-” I point to the left, to the kitchenette, the fridge covered in stickers and magnets. A little glass-top table sits a few feet away, two teal chairs tucked under the edges. “Bed- well, it’s a mattress on the floor, but it’s a queen! Up there-” I point to the loft, and the ladder up to it that serves as a wall between the kitchen and the living room. “Living room under that-”, I gesture to the space under the loft, to the mismatched collection of couches and chairs around my coffee table, “And bathroom is that door.” I point to the door underneath the loft, on the far side of the room. 

Farleigh nods along to my standing tour, and then glances down to his bag. “Where-?”

“You can just leave it there, um, I’ll make room for you to put your stuff in the drawers.” I say. “We should talk about-”

“Rules and stuff.” Farleigh finishes the sentence for me. “Yeah.”

I sit down at my little glass top table, and Farleigh takes the seat opposite. I run a finger through the thin layer of dust that’s gathered on the glass, tracing little designs. “So.”

“So.” Nerves hang on the edge of Farleigh’s voice. 

I glance up at him. “What are you nervous about?”

“I’ve never done this before.” He says. “I don’t- I’ve never had a job. I’ve never had to go get my own food.” He laughs. “God- I’m fucking pathetic. And scared.” His voice turns raw, honest. “I don’t want to end up like my mom.”

With all that I’ve been through in the last few days, I didn’t think it was possible to have my heart break anymore, but it does. “Look,” I say, smiling, reaching across the table to take his hands in mine. “It’ll be hard. Living like this is almost the exact opposite of Saltburn. But we’ll make it work. Obviously, since you’re living here, I expect you to pitch in with the rent and utilities and all-”

“‘Course.” He says.

“-and don’t worry about getting a job. I’ll get you a job. I can’t promise that it’ll be super fulfilling work, but I know plenty of guys that will give you a job. And with the cooking and cleaning and all, we can trade off. Split it up so that it’s even. Obviously, I don’t expect you to just become totally self-sufficient overnight, that’s crazy,” I laugh. “But I can help you. Okay?”

“Okay.” He smiles. 

“And another thing.” I say, a spike of nervousness turning my stomach. “Just because we’re living together and sleeping in the same bed and everything doesn’t mean that I’m expecting us to be together. I get that it was just going to be a summer fling-”

“I wouldn’t mind.” Farleigh interrupts me. “If we got together together.”

“Farleigh,” I sigh. “Neither of us are in the right piece of mind to be making decisions like that right now - you just got kicked out of your house, someone just died-”

“I know.” He amends quickly. “I’m not saying like, right now, but in the future. If this works out and I can manage living like a normal person.”

“I think you totally can.” I say. “If the rest of the world manages, I think you can.”

“I know.” He says, running his thumb over the back of my hand. “It’s just-”

“I know.” I say. “It’ll be a learning curve.”

A semi-silence descends, and I trace a game of tic-tac-toe in the dust on the table, breaking the serious tension. Farleigh grins, and draws an ‘X’ in the top left corner. It’s weird, hearing the sounds of the city after spending so long in England, where the most commotion I ever heard was the occasional rumble of a truck down the road. It’s comforting though - to be back in the city where I belong. To hear the cars on the street and the chatter from the sidewalks. The thought of being able to get a bodega sandwich again alleviates some of the horror that still lingers from the way things ended at Saltburn. 

Farleigh’s lips tilt down into a frown as I block him again. He glances up at me as he draws an ‘X’ in one of the two remaining spaces. It’s clear no one will win this game. “Thank you.”

I finish off the board, and then wipe it away with a broad sweep of my hand. “For?”

“Letting me live with you.” He says. “I mean, you barely know me, Eves. That’s insane, to just be like ‘yeah, come live with me’.”

“Where else would you have gone?”

He shrugs.

I tilt my head, rising from my seat. “Exactly.” I say. “You’ve never had to take care of yourself - you’d die, if you were just left to your own devices on the street. I care about you enough that I don’t want to see you dead in a ditch somewhere.”

His lips quirk up into a grin. “Thanks.”

I ruffle his hair as I dart behind him, kneeling down to get into one of the kitchen cabinets, pulling out my collection of cleaning supplies. “Now- lesson number one in how to be a normal person.” I place a can of Lysol wipes in front of him. “Cleaning.” I stand up. “This place is covered in dust.”

Farleigh grabs the canister. “Right. Cleaning.” Already, he looks utterly lost - but he has the spirit. 

I smile. I can make this work.

< previous part | next part >

[chantillyxlacey]

So I saw this art that Abby Howard posted on twitter: [https://twitter.com/AbbyHoward/status/1601958920255307783] of Reese and Truck, and I entered a fugue state and wrote these little ficlets at work instead of... uhhhh working lmao.

One:

It takes every ounce of strength you possess not to burst out laughing at the tableau you find waiting for you upon entering your apartment.

“If you’re going for a whole ‘seduction’ angle, the cat kind of ruins the effect a little bit,” you say as you shuck off your jacket and drop your keys into the little dish by the door. You even manage to keep the threat of laughter out of your words– well, mostly. It’s an admirable effort, at least.

Reese deflates, but only a little. He makes a sound between a disgruntled grumble and a laugh of his own, quiet but so low that you swear you can feel it resonate through the floor into the soles of your feet.

“I was doing my best to work around it,” he says. “I couldn’t just push him off– I mean look at him.” He gestures at Truck, currently sprawled over his thighs, and scratches delicately behind his ear with the tip of one long claw. Truck blinks at you, looking distinctly smug. You cross the room, shaking your head.

“Yeah, well– I can.” You unceremoniously push Truck to the floor. He sneezes on your foot to protest the indignity, but you ignore him.

You insinuate yourself into the freshly vacated seat in Reese’s lap, draping your arms over his shoulders and leaning close, delighted by the rush of color into his inhuman but comfortably familiar face, and by just how easy it was to turn the tables.

Two:

“You know, neither of us will get to eat tonight if you keep letting him distract you like that.” The admonition is blunted by the poorly disguised amusement in your voice.

From his perch atop Reese’s shoulders, Truck lets out a jubilant and unapologetic caterwaul, which turns vibrato when his stage is jostled under him as Reese laughs. The sound this time is a low, rumbling hiss that makes you think of an alligator.

Your upstairs neighbor, apparently unappreciative of Truck’s aria, pounds on their floor in protest. Reese reaches up and thumps the ceiling once, with enough force to rattle both your kitchen and the one upstairs. Your neighbor doesn’t offer a return volley, and you like to imagine there’s a meek, intimidated quality to their silence.

“Sorry, buddy.” Reese scoops up Truck in one enormous hand and curls his long fingers into a loose cage around the cat. Truck looks a little put out at the loss of his glorious vantage point, but he doesn’t attempt to wriggle free. Apparently, he’s content enough with the fact that Reese is technically still paying attention to him.

Even with one hand occupied Reese deftly finishes dredging and breading the slices of calf’s liver that still need it, passing them to you and the hot pan you’re monitoring on the stove. He’d learned to do a lot of things one-handedly, he told you once, from days when he’d gotten so immersed in his art that it was almost literally impossible to pry the brush or pencil from his grip.

That talent was mostly utilized for Truck-wrangling these days. He’s also told you, his voice soft and sheepish and sweet, that he hasn’t felt that consuming compulsion to exorcize himself onto a page or canvas nearly as often since he’s been here with you.

Three:

You watch your companions surreptitiously over the top of your book, your grin hidden by it. Truck chatters at Reese so purposefully that you can almost imagine he’s saying real words. Reese humors him and murmurs back, too quiet to make out his words any better than the cat’s.

Truck rears up and plants his front paws on Reese’s chest, then lunges forward for an affectionate headbutt the likes of which has nearly given you a black eye in the past. Reese, however, seems wholly unperturbed at being besieged by a ballistic missile of feline friendship.

At the moment, he looks almost exactly the way he did when you first met him. The only clue to his true nature is the way his teeth press outward against his lips, straining against the skin like his jaw is just a little too large and a little too crowded to fit quite right. He almost never dulls his teeth anymore when he isn’t out in public. No– that’s not exactly right, actually. When you first met him he’d been– duller? More faded? He’s still pale as milk and thin as a leather cord, but there’s a lively color in his face now, and his cheeks are no longer hollowed and gaunt.

Truck blinks slowly and deliberately at Reese, and Reese blinks back in the same way. You wonder if he did it consciously or not.

Reese’s eyes are different these days as well. The bags under them are still there– that’s just how his face naturally sits– but they no longer look like bruises. There’s a light in them now too, other than the literal glow that lingers faintly even when he otherwise looks entirely ‘normal’. They have a spark in them–

They’re looking right at you, catching your own and holding fast.

Reese blinks at you, too, and those eyes of his are warm and soft and heavy with so much– so much, just in general, and it’s all aimed at you.

Heat floods your face and you duck back behind your book. You don’t hear his laughter so much as feel it, like infrasound. Lowering the book just enough to stick your tongue out at him, you prod at his bony hip with your big toe.

Truck apparently takes this as a declaration of war and launches himself at your foot, teeth-first.

Reese laughs again– aloud and full-throated this time– at your misfortune and the cartoonish yelp you let out, but he comes to your rescue anyway.

[hydrochloric-hugs]

Chapter 2

They meet muahahaha *cringes* I'm gonna cry

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: food mention, general fear times, g/t. Additionally, while not shown in this chapter, this story will probably have non-sexual vore down the line.

Devon snorted.  He was trying to sleep, he just was, but there was this annoying blaring sound… wait-

He jumped up in his bed, instinctively reaching for his phone and swiping his finger across it until blessed silence.  Christ, he should really get a more pleasant alarm.  He took his phone and stretched before bringing it to his face. 7:30 am.

He groaned but stood, tossing the covers and not even pretending to make his bed.  His morning dragged until finally he had his coffee and sat down at his kitchen table, biology textbook open to a section on fish eyes.  Thrilling.

But no more procrastination, Devon had to have this book half memorized by the end of the week, and it was better than his last semester's coverage of genetics.  He shuddered at the memory.  He was seeing punnett squares everywhere for three days.

No, Devon mused, this is much better to read for hours.

-

Beck pumped his fist in the air. “Just when I lost hope!” He said to himself.  Most had cleared the vent, a couple just finishing negotiations.  Beck paid them no mind, for his prize sat in front of him.  He had been eyeing a new tool Mabel had designed, a variation on an archaic instrument of foraging, the hook and string.  It could dig into most any slight crack or imperfection on a surface, especially when properly sharpened.  Very useful in Tallulah's time and in his, but Mabel had something incredible.

He picked up his shiny new toy with reverence.  He'd say it looked like a crossbow if he'd ever seen one, an elastic band stretched by a bowed toothpick with a sort of cardboard barrel giving way to a molded handle.  The idea was to load the hook pulling the string back until it was caught on a small indent that could be pushed up by a mechanism attached to the handle.  The string would unravel from a spoke just beneath the barrel.

Beck ran his finger carefully along the metal of the four-pronged hook, safely secured in place by a second mechanism with a small crank at the top back of the device.  Mabel had originally made it to help her partner on foraging trips since their arms weren't as strong as they used to be, and they had no one younger in the colony.  Once everyone got one who needed one, however, the device proved useful to anyone foraging, arthritic or not.

Beck had never asked, not for lack of desire, but because he wanted to give something in return, even if Mabel asked for nothing.  So, he went on a daring journey into the nearest apartment to his home and bagged precious materials: extra soft cloth and sweet treats.  Things humans usually notice missing, things they're most likely to punish him for messing with.  It wasn't the most important or dangerous act, but one he at least felt equated the grappling hook in utility for her.  Technically the paper clips he also picked up the day before were most useful, but they were easy pickings from humans.  Mabel had an insatiable sweet tooth.

As the thrill of the exchange waned, however, he felt a certain emptiness coming on.  Andre had gotten cat whiskers for their partner, Mabel and told him.  Cat whiskers.  Beck had never even seen a cat in real life, let alone steal something off of one.  He only ever snuck around at the dead of night, scrambling for whatever scraps he felt like he could use.

He looked down at his grappling hook, tightened his hand around the trigger.  Tonight would be different.  No, today would be different.  He'd even go alone.

He packed his things, not even saying goodbye to the final barterers as he exited.

Once he brought something incredible, something they'd never seen, he will have earned his place, and everyone would think highly of him.  He'd give them something to be talking about for years to come.  He adjusted his pack strap, feeling the weight of the hook.  He had never felt so sure.

-

Classical music twinkled across the kitchen to where the forager stood on two shaky legs, peering over a cabinet ledge.  Tallulah is going to kill me.

The human was slumped over a book, head down, torso slowly shrinking and expanding.  Of course Beck would choose to do this while the occupant was home, and in the kitchen no less.  But Beck had to do something.  He'd been stuck the amateur that the community took care of for two years, he couldn't keep doing this.  He couldn't take it any longer.

Squeezing his eyes shut and imagining his prize, he took deep breaths.  I can do this.  Beck knew his goal the second he saw it: the book.  Taking a textbook scrap from right under a human's nose, literally?  They'd be talking about him for years.

The human snorted, started to snore.  Beck held his breath.  If I live to tell the tale, that is.

The breathing steadied, and Beck checked his route.  I'll stab my old hook into that crack, rappel down onto the counter, get my hook back, and hide behind the coffee maker.  Then I'll use my grappling hook to make a line from there to the table.  I can hide under the table with my hook if he wakes up then.  I can climb back with the paper I my mouth, climb back up, and start drafting my memoir!

The plan was foolproof, or as Tallulah would say, Beckproof.  He imagined her face (a while) after he got back, bursting with pride, never worrying about him again, and dug his hook in.

-

Devon bolted awake at the sound of ripping.  Had he slid and torn a page?  He was just resting his eyes while waiting for the coffee to kick in.  He rubbed his eyes and looked down.  He couldn’t get his deposit back if-

He froze.

A tiny man no bigger than the width of his palm was holding a corner of his text book off to the side, its hypotenuse shredded off.  It was staring back up at him, mouth agape.  His eyes were wide, and they darted to the side.  Suddenly, he was running for the edge of the table, page abandoned.

“Woah!”  Devon instinctively threw his hands around the figure.  The little guy’s inertia carried him, making him run into Devon’s hands and fall back.  The human closed his hands gently when he saw the creature jump up and try to climb his palm.  It was a strange sensation, moreso when the visitor started thrashing around in apparent distress.

That made Devon pause.  Was he hurt?  He parted his wrists, lowering his head for a better view.

“I-I’m sorry!” It can talk?!   Devon gasped.  The tiny being was cowering in his fingers, covering his head with trembling hands.  He looked just like a human, seemed to have the intelligence of one, but was only a few inches tall!  This was paradoxical!

“...What the hell was in my coffee?”  Devon mused, looking away for a moment.

“Ple-ease,” Devon’s attention snapped to the humanoid.  He squeaked, flinching. “I’ll do a-anything, just don’t hurt me!”

“What?”  Devon furrowed his brow. “No, no, I don’t want to harm you, did I a second ago?”  He tried to scan the man for injuries, but the way he was folded in on himself made it impossible.  Unsure of what else to do, he slowly pulled one of his hands back to his chest, slouching down further.  Hesitantly, he moved his remaining hand to be in front of the man and held out his index finger. “I’m sorry if I did.”

It took a bit of them sitting there awkwardly before the man looked up from his arms.  He was still shaking, and Devon frowned at the tears falling from his cheeks.  “Are you okay, little guy?”

He startled at the voice, but didn’t run.  Finally, “I-I’m okay…”

Devon sighed. “I’m glad.”  He remembered his finger was weakly pointed at the being and lightly coughed, folding it into his chest again. “Sorry for scaring you, uh…”  He glanced back at his damaged book. “I don’t suppose you’re magic and can put the page back like it was?”

The being followed his eyes and tensed again, started to pant. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t fix it, I’m really sorry!”

“It’s okay!” Devon smiled calmingly, “did you, uh, fall… on it?”

His breath picked up and tears gathered in his eyes again.

“Nevermind, it’s okay!”  He held his hands up in hopes to placate the poor thing but the man collapsed back into a ball with a yelp.  Devon tried to move in to comfort him, but his effort was only met with apologetic whimpers he couldn’t even really make out.

“Okay, uhhh…”  He bit his lip.  “Maybe we can start over.”  He straightened up only a little, nervously smiling.  “My name is Devon, what is your name?”  The miniature man continued to shiver. “If you…want.  You don’t have to, uh, give your name.  I guess.”

A beat.

“Well, uh, I was just listening to Mozart!”  He nodded his head at his phone. “Do you like…Mozart?”  Do you even know who that is?  He kicked himself.  One semester without roommates and all his social skills just–boom–out the window!  “Maybe you’d like some food?”

He saw the man perk up a little, just a flash of eye contact.

“I can get some food for you!  I, uh, don’t have much, but maybe you’d like some ramen?  Noodles?  Do you… know what that is?”

Despite Devon’s sputtering, he answered. “Are you sure?”

Devon grinned. “Yeah, uh, it’ll take a second, though, and I’ll have to move around a bit to get it.  I don’t want to scare you, buddy.”

That got him to uncurl himself just slightly. “Y-You don’t?”

“No, of course not.  I promise.”  He shuffled his feet under him. “Can I, uh, stand up and make the ramen?”

His breathing picked up and Devon froze. “Wh-What if I w-wanna leave?  Would you le-let me go?”

Devon’s expression turned quizzical.  “Absolutely.  Do you have some way down?  I could carry you if you want, but I have a feeling you’d rather go on your own.”

The man looked as if Devon had sprouted another head.

“Was was that the, uh, wrong answer?”

Without answering, he sat up, hugging his arms around himself.  His eyes bounced around the table top, and he seemed to be chewing his lip.  He said a word, but it was too small.

“I’m super sorry, but I didn’t catch that.”  Devon resigned himself to sit there for eternity until the person spoke up again.

“Beck,” he said, meeting his eyes with only a little terror, “my name is Beck.”

[abugwritesstuff]

Prank War: prologue and chapter 1

hey all! a bit ago i solicited for fic ideas and @chirp-a-chirp offered this idea: "Lou is sick and so he enlists Fenn in a prank war with the valets/princes". i liked this concept and have been writing it out for a bit, but as it's a bit longer than i anticipated (classic move on my part ofc), i'm going to separate it out into chapters.

enjoy!

Prologue:

Fenn had no clue what he’d done this time. 

As he made his way up the headmaster’s tower, he pondered the previous week. He couldn’t pinpoint anything unusual. Only his usual lecture-skipping and man-whoring, really, which had never been an issue before. And he’d heard nothing of any ill news from Luxure- not that his father would have consulted him or utilized him for any diplomatic missions anyway. He rapped a pattern on the door and was immediately ushered in by Nix, who to his surprise, led him in a different direction than usual. 

“Ah, Nix? Are we not going in the wrong direction?”

“No.”

Fenn frowned. The bird said nothing else, so Fenn followed, perplexed. The pair emerged into the bedroom to find the headmaster in bed, lounging with his shirt loose and unbuttoned, enveloped amongst an exorbitant amount of pillows. 

Fenn’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Why, this is not the turn of events I was expecting at all. Isn’t this a rather taboo proposition? Not that I mind breaking a taboo here and there but…”

“Silence, Luxure,” Nix snapped. He gestured a wing to the chair at the bedside and Fenn obediently slid into it. 

At closer glance, Fenn could see the beads of perspiration on the headmaster’s brow and the way that his white hair stuck to his skin in damp tendrils. His chest rose and fell shakily, with a rattling wheezy noise.

“Master Luxure, I am pleased that you are here,” Lou croaked. He turned away quickly and coughed violently into the crook of his arm for a moment, then turned back, smiling uncomfortably. “I have called you here to ask for your assistance with a special project of mine. As you can see, I am rather ill at the moment…” At this, the headmaster’s face fell into a gloomy, almost childlike pout. “...so I am unable to carry out my plans for this week to the extent I’d prefer. But I recalled that you too enjoy this sort of thing, so I thought to have Phinney extend the invitation.”

Fenn blinked at him. The look on Lou’s face was entirely earnest. The thought of taking on extra work on top of teaching and writing made Fenn groan internally, but princes could hardly refuse requests from the venerable headmaster, so Fenn nodded cautiously. “...Of course. What is this task, exactly?”

Lou’s face lit up. “Wonderful!” Silently, he reached out a hand toward Nix who came near to drop a small leatherbound notebook into the headmaster’s palm. He flipped it open and presented the open pages to Fenn, who leaned forward to read the childlike chicken-scrawl handwriting on the pages. 

“Jelly… inside every other shoe but invisible… Spell the wine glasses to be unfillable… Replace sugar with hot Avarian mountain salt… Headmaster, what is this?” 

The headmaster beamed with delight. “This is my pranks book, and I’ve written in it some of my pranks for this week. I need you to carry them out for me in my place.”

Fenn blinked at him. “What…? Can you not just… take a week off from pranking…?”

Immediately Lou’s face fell into misery and gloom; Fenn could all but see the storm clouds brewing over his head. Beside him Nix glared as hard as a bird could manage to glare, so Fenn plucked the book from the headmaster’s hand. 

“Fine, yes, I will carry these out,” Fenn relented. 

Lou clapped his hands together in delight. “Wonderful! Thank you, Master Luxure! Please report to me on how it goes.” At this, the headmaster slid deeper into the mass of bedding and sighed, tossing his head dramatically across a pillow. “...That is all.”

Upon his return to his own quarters, Fenn threw himself down onto his settee and flipped open the notebook. At the beginning of it were just lists of prank ideas, some crossed out. A bit further back were notes with specific dates. 

March 29 - Prank on Prince Toa with the hot spicy spelled caramels- delightful!!!! He found the flavor most unpleasant and Knight was very upset. Should do again sometime I think!

June 7 - Prank on Prince Rio with the disappearing and reappearing potatoes - very good! Unfortunately jasper :( :( :( came and foiled my spell early so the fun ended much too soon… 

September 18 - Prank on Prince Fenn with shrinking potion - did not go as planned… Hawke stole his drink at the tavern and took on the spellwork instead… will need to try again in future…

Fenn laughed. He could recall that evening quite well but no one had been able to sort out the culprit: just that one moment Hawke was downing Fenn’s favorite cocktail in one solid swig and the next had shrunk to approximately pocket-sized. He’d had to spend the rest of the evening being shielded from being stepped on or lost. 

He flipped forward to the current week and found that the dates and planned pranks were written out, with varying degrees of detail and space left for reflections on their success. 

February 6 - Prince Roy - Truth serum

February 7 - Prince Guy - Ertl upside down prank

February 8 - Sir Grayson - sword !!!

February 9 - Masters Dia and Lance - glue prank 

February 10 - Miss MC - ??? 

Fenn frowned. What did “sword !!!” even mean? It was easy enough to sort out what “glue prank” and “upside down Ertl” meant, and “truth serum” was also fairly straightforward. That said, even just “sword” was better than the entry directed at dear Treasure- which was just question marks. Not that Fenn minded the excuse to bother her, but this provided no details. He supposed it must be free reign to decide on his own prank for her.

“Ah well. Nothing to be done about it,” Fenn muttered. First order of business was trying to figure out how to get the ever-poised Prince Roy to consume a truth serum, and luckily Fenn had a few ideas.

Chapter 1:

February 6: Prince Roy Reveals All

There were limited ways to get a truth serum into a person. Obviously one could sneak it into their tea or something else they were consuming, but truth serums often came with a flavor of sorts- a sort of industry precaution against unintentional use. It was possible to make it yourself, but that was time intensive. However- if a person was willing to push through unpleasant flavors for the sake of propriety, it wouldn’t be difficult to get enough truth serum into them to make them spill. That last fact made figuring out how to drug Roy fairly easy.

Fenn prided himself on a few things- well, more than a few things, but one of those things was his powers of observation. Roy was excellent at flattery, obviously, but he had tells for displeasure just as anyone did. A slight tension in the corner of his mouth when he laughed, a little too much eye contact when wanting to leave a conversation, a tendency to wring his hands when frustrated. In addition to that, Fenn had noticed that Roy never took more than a few polite bites of anything Sherry ever made for him, opting for cutting things into very small pieces and pushing them around his plate. Understandably so, as anyone who’d tried her concoctions knew that she freestyled with recipes to such an extent that the results were basically inedible. 

But these events also occurred in somewhat private settings, in and amongst the S-ranks or at some gathering reserved for royals: events where Roy could pretend to partake and then sneakily pass his plate to Grayson for disposal. The key was to pressure him into consuming the entire thing. And nothing- absolutely nothing -worked as well on Roy as peer pressure did. So, Fenn took advantage of the headmaster’s absence to concoct a perfect plan.

---

“I’ve heard nothing of this.”

Fenn sighed dramatically and nodded the most sympathetic yet put-out sigh he could muster. He tossed an arm around Roy’s shoulder and leaned against him, just barely sending him off balance. “It is truly an inconvenience, isn’t it? But it must be done, he says. I did try asking the others, but they simply don’t have the time to handle it, so it looks like it must fall to us.”

Roy frowned, mildly suspicious, and flipped through the papers Fenn had handed him. Plans for a get-together in the B and C rank common room were outlined there, including a small luncheon with a sampling of their country’s finest baked goods. It was meant as a constituency building exercise, akin to a town hall. 

“It’ll be the two of us together, of course. Showing off the finest things Luxure and Invidia have to offer, and then leaving it at that. Should only take an hour or two.” Fenn continued, then gave the other prince a hearty slap on the shoulder and a casual wave as he began to saunter off. 

“W-wait, Prince Fenn, I-”

“I’ve already told the headmaster you agreed, so I’ll see you there!”

Roy watched as Fenn disappeared around the corner. Standing alone in the hall, he stared back down at the instructions in hand and read them over again. Just then, a stampede of students brushed past, giggling to each other. 

“Did you hear? Prince Roy is going to be hosting an event tomorrow in the common room!”

“I’m totally going!”

“I’m so excited!”

Roy blinked, befuddled. He turned, looking across at the opposite wall to find several posters scattered along the hallway advertising the event, complete with “don’t miss it!”, “try the very best Invidian treats!” and “a one time intimate event with your very own Prince Roy”! The posters were lined with hearts and roses in sickeningly bright shades of pink and yellow. Roy crumpled the paper in one hand as he wrung them together.

Meanwhile, Fenn’s mood was soaring. Part one of the setup to Roy’s prank was done. All that was left was passing off the bottle of truth serum to Princess Sherry and convincing her to use it. Which would take some work, but Sherry was usually eager to come to her brother’s aid in time of need. At this time, Sherry and dear Treasure were usually studying together, so Fenn made his way to one of the study tables at the far end of the library and approached the group with a cheshire grin. 

“Hulloa Princess, Treasure,” he greeted them, leaning against the table.

The pair looked up and smiled. 

“Hello, Prince Fenn. You look as though you have a plan of sorts.” Sherry guessed, a light smirk on her face. 

Hm, perceptive. “As it turns out, I do. I don’t suppose you’ve heard yet of the luncheon in the common room tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.

Sherry blinked. “Actually, didn’t we just see something about that?” 

MC nodded. “Yes, we just passed those posters.”

Fenn beamed. “Brilliant, so you already know, then! Well, as it’s a rather last minute joint effort between Luxure and Invidia, I thought I’d ask for your help. Poor Roy seemed awfully stressed by it all and I figured he might appreciate the assistance from you.” At that, Fenn fished the vial out from his pocket, dangling it in front of the princess. “This is Luxurean vanilla extract. I’ve heard you enjoy baking scones?”

Eyes lighting up, Sherry took the vial and stared at it. “Why, yes! I do enjoy baking, and I’ve not been able to use Luxurean vanilla yet! I would love to assist my dear brother.”

“Excellent!” Beside them, MC’s brow furrowed skeptically. “But, uh… Sherry… maybe that would best be left to Grayson?” she suggested gently.

Fenn shook his head. “No, there’s no need to worry Grayson. Nothing made with this extract can go wrong, I promise you. It’s the finest there is.” He reached over and gave the bottle two little taps. “I look forward to sampling your creation, Princess.”

Sherry nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, as do I!”

As Fenn exited the library, he held in a laugh. Perfect. He whipped the headmaster’s little notebook and scribbled down his observations. Should go very well.

---

He was not wrong.

On the day of the luncheon the common room was as full as it possibly could be, with a hefty showing from Roy’s fangirls, who were vibrating with glee and anticipation. Fenn and Roy were sitting at tables at the front of the room, with a display of agricultural exports pertaining specifically to baked goods from each country. Beside him, Fenn could see the evidence of a late night barely contained by a faint layer of undereye concealer. The two took turns giving small speeches about the state of agricultural trade in the baking arts; Roy’s was as poised and perfect as ever. 

As the first half hour concluded, the valets entered, bringing platters of baked goods to be shared amongst the gathered students: cakes, cookies, pastries, and breads. As each item was laid out and revealed, Fenn counted down in his head for the crowning jewel to be revealed. 

Roy let out a quiet breath of relief as the students swarmed around the table. “Well, it seems to be a success, then,” he murmured.

Just then, the doors swung open to Sherry holding a large and perfectly wrapped box, complete with frilly pink bowl cascading off the top. “Sorry for being late!” she apologized, smiling widely, and then deposited the box onto the table. “It took me a tad longer than usual to make my scones.”

Fenn watched Roy’s usually pale complexion blanch of all color. “Y-your… scones? You made scones?”

Sherry smiled at her brother and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! I wanted to contribute, and Prince Fenn gifted me a lovely bottle of Luxurean vanilla. It’s a joint effort between our countries.”

At that note, the students stirred, excited at the prospect of trying the pastries, which only grew as Sherry began to open the box. Inside, each scone was seemingly perfect with a sugary white glaze and pressed rose petals adorning the top. Roy squirmed in his seat. As the first student approached to partake, he stood abruptly from his seat, chair squealing loudly against the tile floor. 

“I… I will keep them for myself actually.”

The room went quiet. 

Sherry blinked. “...Brother…?”

Roy cleared his throat a bit. “Uh… yes. I am just… I cannot possibly share something so precious. It was made by my… beloved sister, after all.” He plastered on a tense grin and the room once again lit up with chatter. 

“Aww! That’s so cute!”

“Can you believe it?! They’re just the best, most perfect siblings ever!”

“I wish my brother was like Prince Roy!”

Roy quickly yanked the box from the pastry table and closed the lid with a decisive slap. “Well, anyway-”

“Aw, come now, Roy, you should have one and tell us all about it if you aren’t going to share! It’s only fair,” Fenn drawled, shooting a pleading puppy-eyed look in Roy's direction. 

The fellow prince shot him a covert glare, but it was no use- the room erupted into excited chatter, agreeing with the prospect. Roy stared out at the crowd and Fenn noted the beginnings of a nervous sweat developing at his brow. Carefully and ever-so-slowly, Roy fished a scone from the box and sucked in a nervous breath. Nearby, Sherry’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Roy wilted a bit, then took a reluctant bite. His face turned immediately and he coughed, swallowing hard and then downing a heavy swig of rose tea.

“Wow, it was amazingthankyousherry,” he mumbled, unconvincingly. “I am going to save the rest for later.”

Fenn grinned to himself and set the lid back onto the box, sliding it across the table to Grayson, who quickly picked it up and hid it behind his back with a concerned expression. The truth serum came in a fairly dense concentration, and knowing the Princess’s baking skills, she’d likely dumped the entire bottle into the dough. One bite was all that was necessary. 

Roy slumped down into his seat as the students returned to speaking amongst themselves. He massaged his temple and then turned to give Fenn a pointed look. “I didn’t know you recruited Sherry to bake for this,” he muttered. 

“It’s no problem, though, is it?” Fenn asked teasingly. “Didn’t you enjoy it? They looked lovely.”

“They’re inedible.” Roy responded immediately, then slapped a hand over his mouth, confused. “Uh… I mean, her scones, they’re… they’re bad. They taste horrible.” Again Roy covered his mouth and sat back, wide-eyed and bewildered. “Why am I…”

At that moment, one of the students approached the table, splitting from her gaggle of fanclub friends to hold out a small wrapped package. “Prince Roy!”

Roy sat at attention. “Yes? May I help you?”

The girl held out the package. “This is a gift from us, to you. Please open it!”

Roy said nothing and tore open the paper to reveal a gift- one of many he’d received that day, no doubt. Amongst the wrapping paper sat a framed collage of what looked to be several different pictures of Roy, cut and pasted together with pink and yellow heart stickers. Sickeningly sweet, Fenn noted. Roy stared at it awkwardly and smiled. “Wow…” he said.

“D-do you like it?”

“No.”

Their faces fell. “...What?”

Roy’s expression crumbled into horror. He held up his hands in defense and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant to say, I… What I meant to say is… it’s… it’s ugly.” His mouth fell open in shock just as theirs did and they stared at each other for several long seconds. 

One of the other fanclub girls spoke up from the back, her voice wobbling with tears. “Prince Roy… Do you not like our gifts?”

“Not particularly, no.”

The group of girls gasped in shock. “Prince Roy… we thought you liked them!” one wailed.

“I find them rather gauche.”

They wailed again and ran from the room in a flood of tears. 

Roy stood from his seat in a panic. “Ah wait, no! I’m sorry!” At that moment, he looked out over the rest of the room of attendees, who had watched the exchange and were now completely silent. His face flushed pink up to his ears. He bowed mechanically at the hips and after another moment of awkward silence, began to stumble as he extricated himself from between the tables and chairs crowding the room. “Very sorry- I must take my leave now,” he stammered, and disappeared from the room, the door slamming shut behind him. 

Fenn giggled and whipped out the headmaster’s notebook. Went perfectly. Truth serum via scones made by Sherry to disguise taste. Revealed to fanclub that he dislikes their atrocious gifts. With that noted, he stood from his seat and gave a perfunctory wave to the others in the room. “I will be off as well- please feel free to enjoy the rest of the pastries as long as you like.” With that, he exited the room and flipped forward in the notebook to the notes for the following day- a combination of the headmaster’s idea and his own notes for execution. 

Toppling a dragon would certainly take some effort.

[auggusst]

Is there something where there is a big difference between your OCs and how they are?

Between Soranar and Ahellia? Wellllll

Soranar is older, and, clearly visibly undead/forsaken nowadays while Ahellia is still living. He died during the fall of Quel'thalas and was raised into undeath and served as a dark ranger for Sylvanas for many years.

Personality-wise they're quite similar, at least similar enough to scream 'related' beyond their obvious family resemblance. They're both relatively quiet, and reserved.

But where Ahellia can become an open book to the right person, Soranar is very adept at hiding his emotions and reserving judgment. He is very much a spectator in social situations, not overly curious, but still polite. Ahellia is more sociable than him, and reactive; she attempts to guard her emotions but small details in her expressions and behavior will give her away, and she is more likely to speak on her emotions than he is. But they're both quite stubborn and stoic.

Ahellia has a nervous habit of counting, either on her fingers or arrows in her quiver, when she's stressed or uncomfortable. Soranar on the other hand simply goes still. Even when he was living he could become very statuesque when discomforted. It's almost involuntary for him, and it's only been exacerbated with his current condition. If he wants, he can truly be as still as a statue.

Ahellia doesn't fall in love easily, but she does get attached easily, find herself thinking about someone or something for a long time if she likes it. She's a practical person overall, not one to have her head in the clouds, but when she's alone her mind does drift to hopes and dreams, or theoretical situations. She has a sexual side, but it's honestly a little repressed; Duty always takes priority for her. She's not particularly promiscuous, doesn't really want to share that side of herself unless it's with someone special. Luckily for her she has fallen in love, with a human/worgen of all people, so she's slowly taking time to explore that side of herself.

Soranar on the other hand is asexual, and never been properly in love, and now as a forsaken his senses, and emotions have been dulled some (on top of just the general trauma of death and undeath) so he finds his emotional satisfaction in a queerplatonic relationship he shares with a death knight named Linnorei. When he was alive he insisted he was devoted to his work as a ranger, which is still true; he values a sense of usefulness over a sense of companionship. But he's not entirely sex repulsed either, and has on occasion had sex with Linnorei, just for some short term gratification, to fight back against that numbing sensation that weighs on the undead. Sex holds no emotional weight for him.

Soranar is very contemplative. He spends time in silence, thinking, pondering, trying to find meaning in his surroundings and his life, and the suffering he has endured. He doesn't laugh much. He used to laugh a little more, but was never really a bright and sunny guy. But that's not to say he was or is ever miserable; he's quite at peace with who he is, with what he is and what he does. He just keeps himself busy, trying to be useful, and finds meaning through that utility.

Ahellia is similarly fixated on duty, on a sense of usefulness, but she's much more conflicted, or disorderly. Her priorities fluctuate, because she's not quite at peace with herself, so she can go through periods of overwork, trying to find penance for past mistakes or trying to prevent future ones. In short: she struggles with being at peace. She's never been one for large groups, but having an individual or two to rely on has helped her in this aspect, and being able to pursue her romantic feelings with Pielde has allowed her to readjust some, to be more balanced.

They both can have sharp tongues, when the situation requires them, but Soranar is also more likely to be snarky, or to casually diss in conversation than Ahellia is. He also has been known to tease those close to him, Ahellia in particular. He's very witty, but his delivery is always calm or impersonal, so sometimes people aren't sure whether to be insulted or not.

Ahellia is less likely to insult someone casually. She is more straightforward with her words, whatever their intention, so if she wants to insult you, you will know. Her way of speaking is more informal than Soranar though; There's a musicality to his speech, a kind of nobility that seeps out of his words, maybe from his time around actual nobility, or just keeping in line with the dignified airs Quel'dorei are raised with, which he never outgrew. Ahellia has spent more time with her 'boots on the ground,' so to speak, and has interacted with more diverse individuals (and has travelled more) so her speech is a little more laid back.

Ahellia is far more curious than Soranar. That isn't to say he's disinterested in the world around him; he used to be fond of reading about far away places, of learning of different cultures, but felt more connected to his home environment and was driven by a desire to serve his community. Ahellia is equally devoted to her people, but enjoys the concept of travel and exploration more than Soranar, enjoys finding new lands and new challenges, in addition to enjoying the comfort of her homeland.

For Soranar travel has become an even bigger turnoff after undeath. Despite being at peace with himself he finds it difficult to stray too far from Lordaeron, which became his home in undeath, and he finds it equally difficult to stray too close to his home in life Quel'thalas, and Silvermoon, where Ahellia still officially resides.

Soranar had a big hand in Ahellia's archery training, but their styles have developed differently over time, yet they kind of echo each other.

Soranar has learned to use the shadows, to become an unseen and unheard marksman, even harnessed some dark power as many rangers in his position have. His arrows are dipped in nightshade, and his accuracy is incredibly impressive. He spends many hours honing his craft. If pressed, he can hit his targets frequently without looking at them, and regularly hits his mark from a great distance. He prefers to keep that distance, wants to eliminate his targets as swiftly and silently as possible. He can hold his own in closer quarters, but avoids it when possible.

Ahellia moves quietly and unseen as well, but is a bit more of an ambusher than an outright sniper. It's a little more intimate for her than it is for her brother. She is adept at tracking (Soranar is as well) and will stalk her target, will wait for the perfect opening and strike, and her draw strength, and consequently the force of her arrows, is really powerful. She moves with more of a feline fluidity, akin to a huntress, uses her environment, and is very swift. She's not an easy target to anticipate or track. Basically, if she catches you, you're fuckin dead.

Honestly I could go on and on 😭 Please send some more questions about these two if you're interested <3

[tallmantall]

James Donaldson on Mental Health - Being More Productive

Photo by Sora Shimazaki on Pexels.com #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com TOP TIPS Do you want to be more productive? The following 10 tips are easy to implement and can help you increase your productivity immediately. Being more productive will help you achieve your goals and success more quickly. - Don’t Multi-Task:  Focus on one task at a time. This will ensure that you are giving your full attention to what you are doing and increase your ability to utilize the power of the flow state. Use your to do list and pick off one item at a time. - Stay Hydrated:  Make sure that you drink water at regular intervals throughout the day. You can, of course, drink other beverages that contain water such as tea, coffee or herbal teas but don’t consume too much caffeine. Maintaining proper hydration will ensure that your brain and energy levels are optimal. - Delegate or Outsource:  Having too much to do can hinder progress as you will focus on those items that aren’t getting done which will cause stress and anxiety. Wherever possible delegate or outsource anything that is inessential or that you are not interested in completing. Paying a cleaner to look after your housework will save you time, energy and stress. - Plan:   You can’t achieve anything without knowing what it is you want to achieve. You need to know your goals. It’s also important to create a plan on how to achieve them. Set yourself daily goals and use a to do list to help you identify what you need to achieve each day. Tick things off as they are completed. - Time Block:  Identify when you are at your most productive. Are you at your best first thing in the morning? Whatever time of day it is, schedule your most important tasks for that time. - Use an Accountability Partner:  Make yourself accountable by telling someone else what you want to achieve. Make sure you give them a target date. Report your progress regularly. By making yourself accountable you are increasing your chance of success. You’ll also have someone to talk to should things go wrong. - Remove Distractions: If you want to become more productive then you need to remove distractions. Turn off the television and your mobile phone, shut down all social media and email. Set a specific time aside each day when you can you use those things and for the rest of the time you’ll be more productive as you won’t be constantly disturbed by messages and notifications. - Prioritize:Sort your tasks by importance. Do the most important ones first as they are the ones that will play on your mind the most if they are not completed. In business, those tasks that earn you money are considered to be the most important and should be given top priority. - Relax:This may sound counter-intuitive but relaxing does help increase your productivity! Learn how to relax and spend regular periods of time out during the day. This personal time will give you the opportunity to focus on yourself and your needs. They will lessen stress and anxiety. Be an Early Riser:The most successful people tend to be early risers. They have discovered that by getting up earlier they not only achieve more in their day, the day starts in a more controlled and productive manner. Use the time to meditate, exercise, read or learn something. Photo by Sora Shimazaki on Pexels.com Read the full article

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

11/17/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Acts 4-6

Welcome to The Daily Audio Bible Chronological. I'm Jill. Today's the 17th day of November, welcome everybody. It's so good to be here with you- what a joy and a privilege it is to be walking through the word of God and reading the Bible in chronological order for us as a community also individually every day of the year until we get through the entire Bible in a year. You can do that individually but you can be a part of a beautiful community of people engaging in the word of God and making it apart of their daily rhythm everyday and boy are we ever quickly very rapidly approaching the finish line for this year. But before we get too far ahead we'll just stay here and be present in this moment that we have right now. We're going to continue in the book of Acts today reading Acts chapter 4, 5 and 6. And this week we're reading the English Standard Version. Acts chapter 4.

Commentary:

We continued in the book of Acts today and we see that as the message of Jesus, the good news is spread, there are those that do not consider it good news and they will oppose the message and they will go to great lengths to silence anyone that is out boldly proclaiming the good news of Jesus. And gathering from yesterday's reading and today's reading, yesterday where tongues of fire fell upon many different people from different regions, Peter reiterating the words of the Prophet Joel that all who call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. We know from reading the gospels that Jesus declared to the disciples the work of God is to believe that Jesus is the Son of God and as we continue through the book of Acts, we're going to see the signs and wonders keep happening because this is the evidence of the Spirit of God that Jesus said he was leaving so that he could go to ascend with his father to prepare a place. But he comforts us by telling us that he is sending the comforter for us and I know I've expounded a little bit outside of what we read today but what we are reading in the book of Acts is the signs and the wonders that is happening through the power of the Holy Spirit which is the evidence the Spirit of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And so with anything good comes great opposition and we're going to continue to see that as we read through the book of Acts. 

Prayer:

Jesus thank you for meeting us here today. Thank you for your Spirit that you brought- introduced into the world and that is present with us. I pray that each and every one of us would sit with a question of are we opposing the good work that you're doing in any way through our words, through our deeds? And reveal those things in our heart I pray. And I pray this now in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Announcements:

Daily Audio Bible, that's home base. That's the website- take a look around, check out the store. There's some beautiful resources- they're created to enhance your journey through the Bible and maybe you don't know about that yet. They are there for you. If you would like to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you so much for your partnership. We could not do this without you and we are so grateful for each and every one of you. If you're giving by mail DAB PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174 or utilizing the app you can hit the give icon located at the top right hand corner of your mobile device. If you need prayer, if you'd like to pray for someone that's previously called in 800-583-2164 or utilizing that app again hit the red circle button up at the top right hand corner you have 2 minutes on the prayer line- when you're finished hit submit turn the wheel to chronological and it will get to the right place. That's going to do it for me today. Love one another.

Community Prayer Line:

Family, it's Renee His redeemed daughter from Florida. I was wondering if you guys could lift up my daughter Jade this week she is at home studying for her Optometry test and she has gone for years to FSU and now she has to take this test and go four more years to have a really good score and I just ask that you lift her up and pray for her to have the ability to study to grab the knowledge that she needs to remember. It's a lot of math and biology and chemistry and all kinds of crazy stuff that they have to know even to become just an optometrist- an eye doctor and it's just a lot of material that she has to remember that she's taking a year off to go work for an eye doctor and now she has to sit here and study and try to remember. And she would feel good about it so have to pick it up from school which I don't want her to leave but there's five different places she's going to apply for and hopefully I'll come back on here and I'll let you know which one she picked. I just thank you guys so much and I love you. Joe you sound a little sick and under the weather, Tanya or somebody else I could tell oh yeah your voice was too so we're all there and I'm praying and lifted everybody up that's sick in Jesus name. Amen.

Hey my outstanding DABC fam, this is Kingdom Seeker Daniel. Family...best treatment in care in the facility that she has been in and it's been a little bit of a chore for Cindy, Sherry and the family to get her situated. Lord will you get Mom in a place that will be totally peaceful and will be most beneficial for her care and for her treatment so that Cindy, Sherry and the family can be at rest to know their mom is being cared for? And then I thank you Lord that you are in the process of healing Simone from Texas. God she has received quite a bit of information that seems to be on the downside but Lord we know that you are for her and therefore despite what the report say we know that you are greater than the report and so we pray that you will favor her life with healing you did it before God you did it way back when for Simone now will you do it again so that she can experience healing of fresh entirely in her body in Jesus name? And then for Tonya from Suffolk God her son is having some challenges in college or will you continue to be with him and work with him through his courses as well as Tanya's voice? God bring healing to her body in Jesus name. Amen.

Everyone this is Jess from Ohio. I wanted to give an update on the prayer request to ask for the little boy named Noah he is doing much better. He is out of the coma and he has started treatment with chemo and that treatment is doing well. His grandmother said there's no cancer in his spine and he's responding well to the treatment so far. Please continue to lift him up in prayer as they go through this journey of the diagnosis and treatments and everything else. But I just wanted to give a quick update that he is out of coma and doing good at the moment. Thank you all.

[cosmosoracle]

Hoyt grabs Egon's hand and shakes it reluctantly - showing a very silent fury, to the attentive eye. He turns and approaches the oracle's unmoving body, slowly taking a hold of her bag to search through her belongings under the watch of the General. Zinnya follows him with her eyes together with Egon; she sees him start to move around the various items that their friend collected between magical utilities and personal trinkets, and he seems to need a bit for that. Be it because he wants to stall for some more time or because he actually doesn't find it is something that the witch will find out along with the fiend; but in the meantime, she deems it a good occasion to ask some more questions before he leaves.

She turns back to him, a light frown on her face. "You also have the black tears."

"Indeed I do. They look beautiful." Egon seems to show a sort of pride when the young one brings the topic to the table, and her interest is equally picked.

"What do they mean for you?"

"They symbolize the respect I pay to my Master." He takes a short break and narrows his eyes, but once he's asked, he seems open to discuss about them, at least to a degree. "They are a way to identify who has been enlightened by him; I was, and I have been given so much more than I could hope for." He tilts his head, and the golden shine shows again like a spark. "If you'd like it, I can enlighten you as well."

"And what would that mean for me?" Curiosity knows little boundaries for the horned witch, which seems to be a point of interest for the one in front of her, but also a mean to get out of a conversation that could lead to spreading more informations than necessary. He tilts his head towards Evangelia, and his attention returns to her and to Hoyt, still curved over her bag. He doesn't see the assassin's other hand fidgeting with something in his satchel on the other side - the lucky dice that he often uses to cheat fate; maybe Egon doesn't even care, since he can still read the bitterness of defeat on his face.

"Your friend has been enlightened, too. Hasn't she explained what it meant to you?"

Zinnya hums for a moment. "From what I gathered, Lia's experience with that has been... unconventional."

The tall man blinks, and ponders in silence for a minute. His smile fades a little before he replies. "I will keep that in mind. But now," he seems to have had enough. "About my book."

At that point, Hoyt gives up on trying to find a way out of the situation. He takes the book and pulls it out with a rough movement; he swims back to his place and hands it over with the same kind of motion. "Here, have your fucking book." His glare is met with deep satisfaction, even joy.

Egon takes the tome out of his hands, and as he holds it to his chest, an ecstatic sigh leaves his lips. Additional tears seem to fall from his eyes as they flash in white and he pulls back his head, darkening the marks he already wore so proudly. Then he regains his composure and offers a wicked grin.

"Marvelous, thank you. I'll immediately inform my Master about the result of this deal; your friend will be awake very soon."

"Yes, now you can fucking go," Hoyt growls at him. Zinnya tries to have him stay until the fallen actually wakes up, but Egon interrupts her, convening with the rogue.

"Yes, I do prefer to go; there's nothing left to do for me here. I hope we will see each other again. It was a pleasure."

"Oh, you can bet on that."

The devil shares a complicit glance with Hoyt, and moves one hand in front of his mouth to zip his lips shut. "That will be between you and me. I'll add it on top of our deal."

Hoyt flashes his eyes red in return, injected with blood and pure hatred. Few moments later, Egon disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

Silence drops around the Fountain, until Hoyt suddenly throws a punch to the rock with his metal hand, cursing at the top of his lungs. Both Zinnya and Opak remain speechless to such a reaction; they take a moment to return to themselves, and when Zinnya does, she swims closer to Evangelia again to hold her hand. All that is left to do is wait and hope that the devil said the truth...

[jasonbeblog]

Reading Music for Guitarists: A Beginner's Guide to Reading Tablature and Sheet Music

Reading music is an essential skill for any guitarist looking to expand their repertoire and explore different genres. Whether you're interested in classical, rock, or jazz, understanding how to read music notation opens up a world of possibilities. In this blog post, we'll provide a beginner's guide to reading tablature (tabs) and sheet music, equipping you with the knowledge to enhance your guitar playing and explore new musical territories.

Understanding Tablature (Tabs): Tablature is a simplified form of notation specifically designed for guitarists. It represents the guitar's strings and frets, allowing you to play specific notes and chords. Each line in a tab represents a string, and numbers on the lines indicate which fret to play. The lower-numbered frets are closer to the guitar's headstock, while higher numbers are closer to the body. Tabs provide a visual representation of where to place your fingers on the fretboard.

Reading Guitar Tabs: To read guitar tabs effectively, start by understanding the basic symbols commonly used. The numbers on the lines represent the fret numbers, indicating which fret to press down on a specific string. For example, if there's a "3" on the top line, it means to play the third fret on the highest string (usually the high E string). Arrows or bends can indicate specific techniques or slides to apply.

Sheet Music and Standard Notation: Sheet music uses standard notation, consisting of a series of symbols and notes arranged on a staff. Each staff consists of horizontal lines and spaces, representing different pitches. The lines and spaces on the staff correspond to the guitar's strings and frets. Notes are represented by oval shapes, placed either on the lines or in the spaces. The position of the note on the staff determines which string and fret to play.

Understanding Pitch and Duration: In sheet music, the position of the note on the staff determines its pitch, while the shape of the note determines its duration. The higher a note is placed on the staff, the higher the pitch. Notes can have different shapes, such as whole notes, half notes, quarter notes, and eighth notes, each representing a specific duration. The presence of flags or beams on notes indicate their duration as well.

Learning Basic Rhythmic Notation: Rhythm is a crucial element of music, and understanding rhythmic notation is essential for guitarists. In sheet music, rhythms are represented by notes and rests. Rests indicate periods of silence or breaks in the music. Notes with different shapes and stems represent different durations, as mentioned earlier. Learning to count beats and understanding time signatures will help you play rhythmically accurate and precise guitar parts.

Practice Sight-Reading: Sight-reading is the ability to read and play music in real-time, without prior preparation. Regular practice is key to improving your sight-reading skills. Start with simple pieces and gradually progress to more complex music. Begin by focusing on individual measures or phrases, and then gradually expand to larger sections. Patience and consistent practice will greatly improve your sight-reading abilities over time.

Utilize Learning Resources: Various resources are available to aid your journey in reading music for guitar. Online tutorials, books, and sheet music are valuable tools to learn from. Consider enrolling in guitar lessons or taking music theory classes to gain a deeper understanding of notation and expand your musical knowledge.

[willtheweaver]

The fairy tithe

It was the last thing that Sarah needed at the moment.

Life for the single mom was hard enough; balancing the needs of an infant with a dead end job and paying all the bills. So it was concerning when a mysterious note was found on her counter one day.

Tonight at midnight, at the changing time all know, we come to collect on the debt that you owe.

There was no signature or any identifying mark.

Sarah was a bit suspicious at first. But then it was overtaken by fear. There were so many possibilities. Was it for the student loan payments? Had she forgotten to pay on one or more of the utilities? She knew she was behind on the credit card, but surly it wasn’t enough for collectors to physically come.

Minutes turned to hours as the clock slowly crawled to midnight. As the twelfth chime faded into silence a knock was heard at the door.

“May I enter? I am here to collect.” The voice had an otherworldly, ethereal quality about it.

Sarah was afraid, yet something compelled her to walk over to the door and open it.

Standing on the threshold was a green-skinned figure, about four feet heigh. Though quite human in form, there were somethings insect and floral about their features. Fluttering softly was a pair of wings. Sarah knew what she was dealing with.

“Sarah,” the fairy said. “We’ve watched over your family for generations. In return, we expect the tithe every three generations. I am sure you know what you have to pay.”

“I…I do.” The reply was full of emotion.

“I grew up on the old stories. I scarce believed them. But now you’re here… what can I say?” A tear trickled down the right side of Sarah’s face.

“I wouldn’t willingly do this under normal circumstances, but my life is falling apart. So much has gone wrong… the divorce, taking on so much debt just to finish college, losing the business…I’m struggling to stay functional as is.

“No child deserves any of this. Please… my little Marion deserves better.”

The trickle of tears became a flood. Sarah collapsed onto the floor from all the grief. The dairy hadn’t moved, but was visibly concerned and pained.

When Sarah regained consciousness, the sun was shining through the apartment window. The notification on the clock said that three days had passed.

She needed to know. So she made her way to the bedroom. There in one corner was the crib, and inside the infant Marion was sleeping soundly.

Sarah was in disbelief. Was it all a dream? She stumbled back into the main room. On the table was a stack of mail. On top was a letter that bore no signature.

Consider your debts absolved, all. And aid to those who take a fall. When all seems lost, one will be found, for in joy does one best sleep sound.

Bewildered, Sarah took a look at the other pieces of mail. Everything was paid in full. What’s more, the books she sent out months ago were being published.

Her heart began to flutter. For the first time in many years, she smiled.

There are good people in this world after all. She thought to herself. I’ll never forget this one act. And when I get back on my feet, I’ll make sure to thank the kind folk.

[pxgeturner]

“It’s Not So Bad”

earth au!Ben Solo x Reader. you meet a very kind, unconventionally handsome man on the bus after waking up late.

The stupid, stupid power went out in your building, and your alarm didn’t go off because of it. So, you missed your train and had to take the bus. Now most people probably wouldn’t see the difference between taking the train and the bus since the train stations are ones for buses too. But the train just feels better, more dignified. People with cars shame people who utilize public transit but it's cheaper, and you live right next to the station.

The next train was 15 minutes away but even waiting that long would make you late to work, well you’ll be late no matter what but if you wait for the train you will be late for the very incredibly important meeting. You can’t, won’t be late for that. It’ll change your career, if it goes right. So, you boarded the bus that just arrived instead.

Unfortunately, the bus was packed. But you managed to slide into a free spot by a large dark haired man in a nice suit.

“Hello!” you greet him.

“Hullo,” he echoes. The two of you sit in peaceful silence. Well, inasmuch quiet as you can have in an almost full bus.

About ten minutes pass, you’re listening to an audio book with one earbud in. and the Man compliments your nails. You’ve been growing them out, successfully curving your nail biting habit with colorful polish. After more than a month of growth your nails extend a quarter of inch past the finger pads. That may not seem like a long but when you’re looking at it, it is. They’re a cute peach with extra shiny lacquer on top. Normally this would just be a typical compliment, nothing special. There’d be no thought put into it but, this man doesn’t know you. He didn’t need to say anything. He doesn’t know what this means to you. So it makes you giddy. You thank him, exuberantly.

“I like your freckles,” you really, really do. You’ve had friends with freckles or birthmarks on their faces. They were bullied to hell and back for their appearance. To you, freckles are a mark of bravery.

He rubs the back of his neck as his cheeks tint pink. “I, uh, thank you.” You turn your body to him and stick out your hand and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Ben, uh, Solo.”

“Ben alone? Or Ben Only?” he gives you a look, and you cringe at yourself, “Sorry, bilingual Spanish humor.” After that he gives you a breathy chuckle.

“I hope neither, ” that makes you laugh.

“So um, do you ride the bus often?” you prompt.

“No, my car’s in the shop actually. This is my first time.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, usually I take the train but I woke up late.” you present your reason. Ben decides to be honest about his thoughts on the bus, about how he expected it to be horrible. “Oh same! Quite frankly I was dreading the bus a little bit.”

Ben asks you a question: “You wanna know something?” you excitedly accept

“It’s not so bad.” he whispers, you agree

[homoose]

If either of these fits your writing ~vibe~ at the moment:

👋💘👀

OR

🚪🧸

pairing: Spencer x gn!reader

content warnings: hardcore heart eyes

emojis: meeting for the first time, love at first sight, and forced proximity! (I think I’m going to combine the second one with another combo I got 👀)

a/n: hi ily and it was truly love at first talk last week!!!!!!! ♥️

—

In all the years he’d lived in his apartment, Spencer had only called maintenance a handful of times. The beauty of an eidetic memory was the endless mental rolodex of user manuals, and he used that knowledge to become a fairly handy guy over the years. Replacing lightbulbs, smoke detector batteries, and faucet aerators had just become a part of his routine. And this routine allowed him to avoid the inevitable, awkward small talk with the grumpy, greasy handy man.

So when the tub began draining slowly, he didn’t panic. He used the drain plunger a few times, and everything seemed to be back to normal. And then it got slow again, and the plunger didn’t seem to be cutting it. So he braved the hardware store and tried a drain clog remover tool which produced an alarming amount gunk... and did not solve the issue of the slow draining.

And so, on a rare day off, Spencer found himself waiting for maintenance to knock.

He’d spent the morning struggling to read his book. He found himself unable to focus, instead going over his talking points in his head. Hi, how are you, I’m fine, nothing too serious, just a little clog, sorry to call you out here.

He was so caught up in the planning of the conversation that the knock practically startled him straight off the couch.

Closing his book and dusting imaginary debris from his pants, Spencer stood and crossed to the door. He took a breath before unlocking the deadbolt, swung the door open, and lost his breath again.

You raised your hand in a wave, introduced yourself, and asked, “Clogged drain?”

Your friendly smile didn’t waver for the fifteen seconds of silence that stretched between you as Spencer tried to gather his thoughts. The response that finally burst from his mouth was, “What— what happened to the other guy?”

“Mike?” You shrugged. “Oh, he retired. About time— he was starting to become a real pain in the ass, if you know what I mean. But I’m servicing this building now,” you announced cheerfully. You gestured inside his apartment. “It was the drain, right?”

“Oh yeah, yeah— sorry.” Spencer stepped aside. “Come on in.” He closed the door behind you and then gestured around the corner. “It’s, um— you have to sort of go through the bedroom.”

You continued smiling at him, and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. You were certainly not what he was expecting when he pictured a maintenance worker. Mike always had a beer gut spilling over the top of his worn jeans. Sometimes he had sweat stains under his arms and almost always a ratty baseball cap to top it off.

On the contrary, your jeans were practically tailored, with a clean white tee tucked in and a utility belt around your waist. Your body language was warm and friendly— relaxed posture, loosely gesturing hands, and that smile.

He was so enamored that he missed your entire spiel on the way into the bathroom, catching up just as you finished, looking at him expectantly.

“Hm?”

You laughed, and he had to physically stop himself from smiling. “How long,” you repeated, “has it been clogged?”

“Oh, just— not— not very long.”

You took one cursory glance at the drain and raised your brow. “What home remedies did you try?”

“Oh.” Spencer spluttered a bit before answering, “Just a drain plunger. And this, um— clog remover tool.”

“At least it wasn’t Drano,” you quipped, getting down on your knees next to the tub. As you pulled out a couple of items from your tool bag, you queried, “You know maintenance is covered in your rent cost, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just— I don’t know, I’ve gotten used to doing things myself,” Spencer admitted sheepishly.

You turned to look up at him from your place on the floor, and he tried to keep his eyes on yours. “Well, now that I’m on duty… you can call anytime.”

—

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