#my sister said she’d rather have me as a parent than our parents and like.

[nope-body]

.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Heaven Sent You to Me

Pairing: Apollo (who happens to look exactly like Orestes in Agora) x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3.8k

TW/CW: umm we all know Greek Mythology is like screwed up right? So there’s mean patriarchal men in this, a bit of power play between Apollo and reader, innocence!kink, oral (f!receiving), PinV sex, loss of virginity, talk of pregnancy

A/N: YES I AM AWARE THAT I SHOULD BE WRITING THE MORE THE MERRIER OR ANSWERING THE OTHER 87 ASKS IN MY INBOX BUT MY MUSE IS FICKLE OKAY? She said “Oscar as Apollo or no words at all” so here we are 🤷‍♀️ I watched The Two Faces of January last week and kept thinking that Oscar looks like a Greek god and @lovely-cryptid ‘s greek mythology AU lives rent free in my head and I couldn’t help myself…

Also the title is a lyric from an Ariana Grande because I have fully reverted ten years writing a Greek Mythology AU for my fandom du jour with a song lyric title bc I'm ~artsy~

You should have known he was a god. The way his fingers seemed to fly over the strings of his lyre. That enchanting, mellifluous voice. The smile that shone brighter than the sun itself. You’d encountered him in the woods behind the temple consecrated to him for Zeus’s sake.

Though who could blame you for assuming he was a mortal man? What would a god, an Olympian, want with you – an unimportant peasant in a small, unimportant village? He’d appeared to you as a mortal, a beautiful, alluring one, but a mortal. In fact, he’d been rather short in stature. Apollo’s affairs and exploits were famous, nay infamous, and even now it seemed impossible to reconcile the man who had spoken to you with such sweetness, who had wrung ebullient laughter, as well as previously unimaginable pleasure, from you was the mighty god you and your family had worshiped since time immemorial.

The revelation that you had lain with the god of light, music, medicine, the averter of evil, had been one that raced your head endlessly over the past few days, but it never failed to send a shiver down your spine. You instantly conjured the broad, chiseled planes of his body, so starkly contrasted with the gentle way he’d made love to you. When you revealed that you were a virgin, he was tender with you. Fragments of memories flashed in your mind’s eye but the one that oddly lingered the longest, and the most vividly, was the sweep of his thick, dark lashes across his high cheekbone when his eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy as he met his release. He had been the portrait of pleasure and beauty. You were truly a naive fool for not realizing the divinity in front of you in that moment.

“We must pray that you conceive,” your mother had declared. “You have already secured our family great status, but a demigod? Dmitri, can you imagine?”

Despite her praise, your cheeks burned in shame when she turned to your father for his reaction. You detested how openly and calculated this very intimate, typically private event in your life was being discussed. No one was supposed to know. Yet your sister had found the blood stains on your chiton while laundering it, and she’d coaxed the details out of you.

“Did it hurt?” she whispered.

“No.”

Her brows furrowed, “But you bled. It always hurts. It hurt my first time.”

“I…I don’t know. It didn’t. There was a–,” you blushed bright red and lowered your voice even further, “–a stretch, but it was pleasurable. I didn’t notice the blood until you did.”

Your sister was not willing to let it go. A trait among the women in your family that you’d failed to inherit.

“Well, how large was he?”

“Caris,” you urged her to stop. Yet, you knew your plea was useless, so you quickly approximated your lover’s size with your hands.

“Oh that definitely should have hurt!” Caris squawked in disbelief.

“I’m not talking about this anymore!” you proclaimed.

And that really should have been the end of it. Yet when you, Caris, and your parents made your weekly tribute at Apollo’s temple the following day the priests and acolytes were all abuzz. The god had appeared yesterday.

Initially, you had been as exhilarated as the rest of them, yet your stomach dropped and face blanched as the priest who had seen Apollo described him. Inky curls, olive skin, dark eyes with a strong brow and prominent nose. The god possessed an undoubtedly commanding presence, but there was a playfulness, an exuberance to him.

You and Caris traded bewildered glances. The priest’s depiction of Apollo matched up rather perfectly with Phoebus, the young man you’d stumbled across when you’d decided to take a walk through the forest rather than immediately returning home after your visit to the temple.

“It’s him,” she asserted lowly as you all headed back home.

“Shhhh,” you tried to speed up and away from her, a stupid idea because Caris had longer legs than you. When she inevitably caught up with you two seconds later, you insisted, “Don’t be silly.”

“Apollo is the god of healing and diseases. Is it really so far-fetched to believe that he could minimize any pain for his lovers? Especially the virgins?”

“Caris! Enough!”

The vehemence of your demand had caught your mother’s attention. While in the moment you were able to extinguish any suspicions she had, eventually Caris’s big mouth betrayed you. You had expected her to rage. To punish you. You, an unmarried, unbetrothed woman, had engaged in an activity that was the most important gift in your dowry to your future husband. You readied yourself for the insults and reproaches your mother would hurl at you for becoming damaged goods as a marriage prospect.

Yet, she all but kissed your feet when she found out. She rejoiced, then immediately marched you back to the temple to meet with the clerics. That was when the humiliation began. You were examined to ensure that you had in fact been deflowered. As if that hadn’t been degrading enough, you then were stripped and prayed over for hours, leering men begging Apollo for a sign to confirm that you were indeed the one the god had chosen to ravish. The manner in which the priests brusquely groped and prodded at you couldn’t have been more different than the way the deity himself had treated you, the god they claimed to serve.

When a sign didn’t immediately appear, doubt had set in. A mortal woman winning the attention of their patron god was the most momentous thing to happen in your village in generations, so if you were lying? Eternal shame. For you and your family.

You were kept overnight in the temple in a nicely appointed room, but forbidden to see anyone. You cried yourself to sleep, yet much to your relief, at dawn, Apollo provided the confirmation the priests needed and you were allowed to go. Of course, by the time you returned home, everyone knew.

After having a bit of time to contemplate it, you realized that it wasn't so much the fact that every single person in your life began treating you differently that unmoored and overwhelmed you, it was how swiftly it had all happened. It hadn’t been your choice.

You were required at the temple daily now for rituals. Thankfully, the fact you’d lain with a god disqualified you from becoming an acolyte, you were still needed for “veneration” purposes. You soon deduced this meant that the priests simply wanted to keep you around to curry favor with Apollo.

You hated it. You were the only one present in the chamber currently who had ever meaningfully interacted with the deity, yet you were reduced to a glorified altar ornament for their rites.

The only way to weather these hours-long sessions was to recall what brought you here in the first place. You retreated into your memory of that fateful afternoon when you met Apollo.

It’d been a beautiful day, and you were more at ease in nature. The hustle and bustle of the village and the imposing columns of the temple felt suffocating to you.

You’d heard him first before you saw him. The most beautiful music wafted toward you. You couldn’t have turned away if you’d wanted to. It was as if the mixture of the melody he played and the tune he sang had entranced your feet to carry you to the source of the sound. You hadn’t heard the song before, but inexplicably, it had an odd air of familiarity within your ears.

The sight of him initially seemed to be a joke. He had to be a mirage of some sort. A song so gorgeous coming from a man who was even more dazzling? Had you tripped and hit your head on your stroll from the temple? Surely you were dreaming.

His song ceased when he sensed your presence.

“I’m sorry,” your apology tumbled from your lips at once. “Please don’t stop on my account, I didn’t mean to–I’ll leave. I apologize for intruding.”

Before you could tuck and run, he called to you.

“Don’t! There’s no need.”

You froze, and slowly pivoted back to face him. He’d gotten closer to you, which was terrible for your clarity of mind. In addition to his good looks, he radiated an irresistible air of power, and his proximity only compelled you to submit to it more.

“Thank you.”

Suddenly, the man before you turned boyish and shy before he queried, “Would you like to hear more?”

“Please.”

It was the first time you were treated to his smile. It reduced you to a blushing fool with a startling amount of efficiency.

He motioned to a nearby boulder for you to take a seat on. You obeyed instantly. He took his place on a nearby log and resumed plucking at his lyre.

His song was haunting, beguiling, and hopeful all at once. His voice lilted over the lyre’s strings. He sang in a language you didn’t understand, and couldn’t begin to identify, but you were captivated all the same.

You were slightly embarrassed, though not at all surprised, that there were tears staining your cheeks when he concluded.

He grinned dopily when he saw you dabbing at your eyes, “That bad, huh?’

“Stop,” You chuckled through your tears. “You have a gift.”

He shrugged off your compliment with a frustrating amount of nonchalance.

You needed to know more about this mysterious man. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m merely passing through.”

“Are you a minstrel then?”

He smirked as if you’d said something inadvertently humorous to him. “I suppose you could call me that.”

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“Phoebus.”

“Have you traveled much, Phoebus?” you inquired.

“I have.”

“Could you tell me about the places you’ve been? I’ve never left this utterly boring village.”

“I will, if you tell me what keeps you here. Is it your village’s association with the deity?”

You cocked your head in confusion. It was an odd question to you. You strove to answer diplomatically, “While I wouldn’t say that Apollo is driving me away, I wouldn't say he’s keeping me here either.”

Again, that secretive little smirk tugged at the corners of Phoebus’s quite luscious mouth. “I see. He’s vastly overrated isn’t he?”

“Oh I wouldn’t go so far to say that!” you attempt to course-correct. “We’re blessed with his patronage.”

A mischievous glint danced behind Phoebus’s dark, magnetic eyes. “Say no more. Now, where do you want to hear about first?”

He proceeded to regale you with tales of the most wondrous places. Of seas and mountains and monsters and the divine. You got lost within his stories. You wished you could live within them.

It had seemed like the most natural thing in the world to accompany him on a stroll when he suggested it. Typically warnings would blare in your head - you must not stray any further with this handsome stranger, he could sully you, or worse, harm you, but you felt entirely safe with Phoebus. At the time, it had been impossible to put your finger on why you’d felt so. Now, it was abundantly clear: you’d been in the presence of one of the most powerful creatures in all of existence. Still, he chatted and wandered with you in a remarkably similar manner to mortal men your age.

When you two came across a river and Phoebus proposed a swim, your cheeks had burned with sheepishness. He hadn’t mocked or derided you, he simply offered to turn away while you undressed and submerged yourself into the water to afford you some modesty. However, Phoebus hadn’t been quite as bashful as you had been when disrobing. In fact, the flourish with which he all but flung off his chiton led you to believe he wanted you to watch him, rather than avert your eyes like you immediately did once you realized what he was doing. You hadn’t been quick enough however, and had caught a delectable glimpse of his toned chest, thick thighs, and what you deduced was a well-endowed groin.

You only dared look back up when you heard the splash signaling his entrance into the river. He resurfaced with his black curls matted and slicked back against his skull, an impish grin on his lips. He reached for you and you floated to him without hesitation. The feel of his bare skin against yours was intoxicating.

“I want to kiss you,” he murmured, even though you two were the only people around for at least a mile.

“You may,” you granted him permission in a similarly hushed tone.

Your lips drifted together, and then it was as if you had become a feral animal let out of its cage. You couldn’t get enough. Your lips moved against his ravenously, your legs wrapping around his torso on instinct when he moved toward the river’s bank. While the press of his arousal against your hip was certainly a foreign sensation, you weren’t afraid. He deposited you on the warm silt for a moment before retrieving your tunic and laying it under you, a makeshift bed for what was about to come.

It was then that you confessed. You didn’t know what to expect once the words left your mouth - judgment, indifference, a perverse excitement - but Phoebus smiled softly, and nodded his head, as if he’d expected it.

“Then I shall show you how beautiful pleasure can be,” he vowed.

He took his time, dipping his head between your breasts to mouth at your pert nipples, then lower to between your legs. When the tip of his nose drew a featherlight line along the seam of your sex, you gasped. You may have been a virgin, but you weren't totally naive. Caris had been betrothed recently and regaled you constantly about her rendezvous with her soon-to-be husband, but she had never mentioned this. It was as if Phoebus was sending you flying through the clouds, straight to Olympus, with only his tongue. Your fingers had wound into his damp curls to hold on for dear life as you fell apart for him.

It wasn’t until your pleasure crested that he slid a thick, suspiciously uncalloused finger through your folds and pressed it inside. He cooed comforts to you when you tightened around him, your body’s first reaction to try and expel the intrusion. One digit became two, and after a while, he guided your hand to manhood, showing you how to grip him, coaxing and coaching you on how to bring him back to hardness.

Caris had always advised you to shut your eyes and not to look at a man’s member for too long, since it wasn’t the most pleasant of sights. She was wrong in this instance. Every bit of Phoebus was mesmerizing, and his erect cock was no different from the rest of him. His encouragements echoed in your ears as if he was speaking them to you in the present.

“Yes, that’s it sunshine,” he’d panted, “You can grip me tighter, oh, that is lovely. You are a fast learner, aren’t you? I’m going to make you feel so very good.”

Becoming one had been the most intense sensation you had ever endured. It was all too much, yet you wanted more. You keened when Phoebus had draped your legs over his broad shoulders to penetrate you deeper, your skin suddenly feeling too tight. It was too much, it was too much, you’d chanted to yourself. Phoebus’s girth was unrelenting, but at the same time you never wanted it to end.

Your lover was an attuned one, so when he observed that the position was perhaps too vigorous for his little virgin, he’d rolled you over so you were straddling his ample hips and speared on his desire.

“Here, grasp onto my shoulders,” he instructed you, “so you can control the depth and the pace, yes?”

Phoebus had long fucked the words out of you, so your reply came as a breathless, frantic nod. You wished to thank him, truly, you couldn’t have asked for a more considerate man to share this with for the first time. Instead, you did as he said and found a tempo and pattern of undulating your hips against his that suited you.

Phoebus couldn’t help himself, he began meeting your pelvis, thrusting up into you. You howled in pleasure, and his gaze instantly searched out yours to confirm those were good sounds instead of pained ones. He didn’t look away once he had found the answer he was hoping for in your eyes. Those deep brown irises had bore into yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more convinced you were they held galaxies.

You were so caught up in Phoebus’s gaze that you didn’t notice he’d snuck a hand in between your bodies until the pad of his finger connected with your sensitive bud.

“There you go sunshine, let go for me, you can let go.”

You felt as if you were going to explode out of your body as Phoebus continued to repeat those sweet-nothings as if they were a prayer.

“Let go for me darling, I know you can, let go–”

“You may go.”

The high priest's imperious tone snapped you out of your reverie. No longer were you in the forest with Phoe–Apollo, but rather the towering temple consecrated to him. Your relief that you could leave superseded your annoyance at being interrupted. You desperately needed to return to the privacy of your bedroom for a bit of self-relief.

Perhaps it was because you were in such a rush that you didn’t initially notice him as you flew out of the side entrance of the temple. It was his voice that stopped you.

“You’re not with child.”

“Holy Hera! You frightened me!” You put a hand to your chest to calm your beating heart.

“So you can stop fretting." Clearly, Apollo wasn’t particularly remorseful about the scare he'd given you. "Though to be honest, I’m surprised you’re relieved. Most women, beings far more divine than yourself, are usually thrilled to carry my offspring. They clamber for the chance and flaunt their bellies if they conceive.”

“I…I could not withstand the attention, I do not think. Nor the pomp and the responsibility.”

“The priests would help with the burden.”

“Yes but the child’s father wouldn’t,” you pointed out. “As great an honor to mother a demigod would be, I would prefer a…someone to experience it all with.”

Apollo nodded. “That I could not give you.”

“I know,” There was no resentment or disappointment in your voice. “I would never expect you to.”

“That must be why I yearn for you still,” Apollo mused, “why I cannot stay away.”

“I...my family is expecting me.”

Apollo was not accustomed to being refused. He fixed you with a look of amused incredulity after you spoke.

“I do not want them to know. Or anyone for that matter.” You realized how ungrateful you sounded. To spurn a god was to write your own death sentence. “Not that I don’t desire you, or that I wish to disregard your desires–”

“You want me all to yourself.” When you opened your mouth to amend his statement, he stopped you. “It’s alright. I want you all to myself too.”

“You have me,” you averred. “However, when the priests and my mother get involved…”

“I understand. I do not wish for fanfare either.” He pulled you close to him. Your breath hitched at the press of his hardness into your hip through both of your chitons.

Your mouths were millimeters apart. Instead of closing the distance, you asked, “Why did you tell me a false name when we first met?”

He smiled that bright, beatific grin that warmed you from the inside out. “I suppose for the same reason that you want to keep this a secret. If you believe your family is meddling, then mine is…”

Apollo didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to understand. You giggled, a sound he much enjoyed. At last, he captured your lips with his. Kissing Apollo melted you, you became a molten, liquid being when he pressed his lips to yours.

As transcendent as the kiss was, the god could feel that you were holding back. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

You were not proud of the flip your stomach did at the pet name. Once you regained control of yourself, you replied, “Nothing, nothing at all. Forgive me.”

“Don’t apologize, simply tell me what is bothering you,” he countered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

When you hesitated, his fingers tilted your head up so your eyes met. “I won’t be angry.”

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your complaint. It was funny, you’d spent your entire life beseeching Apollo for this or that in the temple, yet when he was standing right in front of you, eager to know what troubled you, you couldn’t find the words.

“Why me?” It was a deflection from Apollo’s question, but still a valid inquiry.

He chuckled. “You’re asking me to apply logic to attraction, something inherently instinctual,” Apollo pointed out. “Though if I had to try to put reasoning to it, I would say it was because you are kind, beautiful, you have a tight, juicy little cunt…” he cupped your mound to demonstrate his point. You gasped at the contact. “...and when I’m with you, I feel the most like a mortal that I've felt in decades.”

Mortal? Was that a bad thing? Were you unintentionally insulting the deity?

Apollo was quick to assuage you, “I enjoy it, sunshine. The immediacy, the urgency. It’s refreshing. You’re refreshing.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. You sought to return his kind words but what was there to say? It was obvious why a mortal such as yourself would fall for a god.

“Now, I won’t ask again. What vexes you?’

“I…after we…our first meeting,” you struggled to select the right words, “the priests wanted to corroborate that we’d lain together, and their methods were…they were not very gentle.”

Your lover’s eyes turned stormy. No sooner had you told him did a crack sound from what you guessed was inside the temple.

“No, please! Don’t hurt anyone!” you begged him just as swiftly.

Apollo’s face softened slightly. “Even after they violated you, you show them compassion. I swear to you I won’t, however, I must ensure that you, and by extension, myself are treated with respect.”

“Of course,” you acquiesced. Gods were not known for their mercy, so the fact he was willing to compromise with you at all was a victory.

Apollo pulled you into another kiss that stole your breath. “If I cannot have you now…then tonight. When the moon peaks in the sky.”

“How will I find you?”

A smirk played across his lips. “Don’t fret, sunshine. I shall ensure it.”

A/N: Sooooo…what do we think?! 🫣 A little more flowery than my usual but I just had too much fun with this and now I have ideas for a few installments 🤦‍♀️

READ PART TWO

Tagging a few folks who might be interested:

@bitch4marvel @luciannadraven33 @oof-its-roobi @twwcs, @ninebluehearts @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction , @romanarose @dameronscopilot

[wooahaes]

where to go?

pairing: non-idol!maknae line [svt] x gn!reader

genre: fluff. roommates au. [can be read as poly if you wish!]

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: reader doesn't have a great relationship with their family. some bickering within fic (between seungkwan and chan).

daisy's notes: these three are my beloveds fr btw

If there was one thing your three housemates knew about you, it was the unfortunate aspect of your family life being… not very great. Ever since you moved in with them a few years ago, they’d noticed plenty. You often spent holidays alone in the apartment, you rarely called home unless you were calling your grandparents, and even then you didn’t seem to be on great terms with your parents past sending money or gift cards to one another on birthdays and special occasions. So they made up for it in different ways: little celebrations for the four of you every year, just to keep you involved in the festivities.

And now that the winter holidays were fast approaching… They’d been discussing plans without you. Essentially, they had plans to head home for some time with their families when they were off work.

And now? Well…

“They should go home with me,” Seungkwan had said, arms crossed over his chest.

A little over a week ago, they’d approached you together to ask if you felt like coming home with one of them. Sure, you weren’t blood related, but the four of you felt like your own little family and you’d met their families enough times that it wouldn’t be weird for you to come around. You had simply given a non-committal “Sure, whatever, just let me know when so I can plan around it for work” without showing any preference or pressure toward them in the event they changed their minds. 

Before Chan or Vernon could get a word in, Seungkwan had continued, “One of my sisters is coming home later because her work schedule didn’t line up. So we have the extra room, and they wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch or anything—”

“Uh. Dude. They wouldn’t sleep on the couch at my place,” Vernon spoke up immediately. “They can take my bed—plus my sister loves them.” 

That was definitely a stretch. His sister liked you well enough, but most of your interactions involved her (jokingly) pitying you for having her brother as a housemate.

Chan rolled his eyes. “Obviously, they’re going to come home with me. They love my family the most.” (Not true: you were on good terms with everyone, no strict preference whatsoever.) 

“You invited them home to celebrate chuseok!” Seungkwan shot back immediately, “Because you didn’t want them to be alone in the apartment!” 

“And my parents love them!” Chan said, “They said they’re welcome back anytime—so they’re probably expecting them!”

“Hey,” Vernon spoke up, “my mom already said she’d rather me bring them than let them spend the holidays alone. Plus she hasn’t seen them in a while. Do you really want to disappoint—”

“No! No! You don’t get to play that card!” Seungkwan huffed, hugging himself tight. “You can take them to see your mom whenever you want! I’m going back to Jeju and I think they should come with me.” 

“My family is in—”

“You just took them home for chuseok a few months ago!” 

Chan stood up, “Right! Months ago! You can take them to Jeju whenever you want, too!”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not!” 

Vernon just sat by, watching the two bicker. “I mean… If they don’t want to travel…”

Seungkwan shook his head, “They already said they’re fine with whatever! All we need to do is let them know the dates so they can plan accordingly—which is why they should go with me, because it gives them more than a week to prepare.”

“They don’t have to plan so much if they come with me,” Vernon hummed, sinking back in his chair, “just saying.”

“I’m going the latest of anyone, so they should go with me,” Chan said.

“It’s not our fault you waited so long to get work off,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “You should have planned ahead—”

It was around this point that you couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. The three hadn’t noticed you stepped out of your room earlier, headphones draped around your neck (music paused, otherwise one of them would have definitely heard it by now). You’d thought about saying something plenty of times, but something about how heated up you knew they’d become made you stand by and wait. Of course it’d be Seungkwan who cared the most and was the most vocal about it. And, of course it’d be Chan who wanted to take you home again after his parents adored you so much the first time (chuseok with them had been nice, actually, and you appreciated Chan for including you on something you thought you would be intruding on). And then there was Vernon, who had his arguments but settled back to watch the other two butt heads for a while. If you hadn’t stepped in, you were pretty sure he would have jumped back in once they’d argued themselves out. 

“This is serious!” Seungkwan said the moment he saw you. “We don’t want you to spend the holidays alone, so we just need you to decide who you want to go with so we can plan!”

Chan rolled his eyes, “They’re laughing because we’re arguing over it. They probably think we’re silly—”

“I do!” You said, wiping away at a tear that had escaped in your laughter. You made your way across the room to them, already pulling Seungkwan and Chan in for a hug—gesturing for Vernon to come join. “I just… I really love you dumbasses, alright?”

“I wasn’t even arguing—”

You rolled your eyes. “Vernon, get in here.”

The three came together to let you embrace them as warmly as you could before breaking apart again. Chan slid into the innermost chair, letting you take his seat as the four of you started discussing this seriously. With you having gone with Chan for chuseok (again, you thanked him: it was nice that he cared about you and that his family had been okay with letting you join them so you wouldn’t be alone), you’d immediately crossed him off the list to his dismay. But he’d understood: it felt a little unfair for him to steal you away again… and there were plenty of times in the future you could visit his family if you felt like it. That left the decision between Seungkwan and Vernon, and as much as you’d like to see Jeju and the Boos again… you’d rather save that trip for later. Which meant you’d spend some time with Vernon and his family for a bit, the easiest trip and the one you could definitely do if you couldn’t get off work.

“You’re coming home with me next year for chuseok,” Seungkwan said, playing with your fingers idly since you’d left your hand resting on the table. “Chan and Vernon can do something else with you, but you can come with me next year.”

You’d cracked a smile. “Is Mama Boo going to be okay with that?”

“You’re already like family, so yes,” he shrugged. “I’ll talk to her when I see her and make sure, though.”

You’d felt your face grow a little warmer. “How much do your families know…?”

“Enough,” Vernon had shrugged. “I mean. I talk to my mom enough, y’know? She knows that you don’t have any family here and she’d rather you come hang out than be alone. Dad thinks so, too. Everything else is your business, so…” 

“Right!” Chan spoke up. “But… That’s why I invited you for chuseok, actually.” He began to fiddle with his sleeve for a moment. “I asked mom about maybe bringing back some food for you, and she said to just bring you along since Seungkwan and Vernon wouldn’t be here and that you shouldn’t be alone. She actually chewed me out for even thinking about  leaving you here alone when chuseok is about family.”

Again, your face grew warmer with embarrassment. “Oh.” 

Between Seungkwan playing with your fingers, the arm that Chan had rested around you, and the way Vernon was trying to goad you into playing footsie under the table… Something felt particularly sweet about having the three of them to care about you. You’d always try to be there for them when they needed you most, but it still felt weird accepting that they loved and cared for you just as much—to the point where they would straight up fight over who got to take you home for the holidays, just to ensure that you didn’t spend them alone again.

Maybe you really did have a family here after all. It was just one you’d picked out for yourself, and you loved these idiots more than life.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi Cas :) So I could do with some advice. 

My WIFE and I (i’m very excited to be able to call her that) just got married. Last weekend. We’ve planned our honeymoon for in a few weeks cause we just bought a place together and wanna make sure everything’s moved in and settled before we go. 

So during the AMAZING wedding, she was supposed to walk the aisle with her parents and then me after, with mine. 

But, after she’d walked the aisle, I was in my little side room about to leave when there was a knock on my door.

My wife has a daughter, who’s nine, who I get on extremely well with, she’s my daughter in everything but blood. 

(She called me mum a few weeks ago, me and wife started crying- and then she laughed at us) and she came into my room and she was crying.

I knew she was supposed to be in wedding at this point so I assumed the wedding was paused (and my wife never went down the aisle) since her daughter wasn’t there to walk down in front of her (as the flower girl). 

So I sit down with her and she tells me that her grandparents (my wife’s parents) were very mean to her. 

For a few years she’s had this cute obsession with Tiana, the disney princess. So me and my wife agreed she could wear Tiana’s dress down the aisle for our wedding cause we wanted her to be comfortable and she was really excited to wear the dress.

Turns out, that’s not what me wife’s parents wanted. They freaked out that she wasn’t in the dress that they apparently picked for her for our wedding? Which id heard nothing about. And so they “accidentally spilt” a drink on her dress just before she was supposed to go down the aisle, and said she had to wear their one. 

So my daughter (i’ve been saying wife’s daughter to be clear, but she’s my daughter too so i’m just gonna call her that) tells me that her grandma bought this ugly yellow dress that doesn’t suit her, that’s itchy and uncomfortable and apparently “very, very expensive”. It had no meaning and her grandma (my now mother in law) said that her Tiana dress was tacky. And then ruined it but dropped three glasses of red wine down it. So she refused to give in and go out there. 

And look, i’ve known my daughter forever. I met her when she was two and I raised her with my wife. 

And my kid is RIGHT. I do not agree that she should just do what grandma says when grandma wants to put her in something uncomfortable that I didn’t agree to, and then ruin the dress she really wanted to wear. 

So I texted my sister (who was my wife’s maid of honour- they’re bffs, it’s how we met) who I knew had her phone in case of emergency’s and told her what was going on. Turns out my wife was WAITING FOR ME at the alter cause her parents made go without her daughter, saying she was just coming, so they could put her in the dress they wanted. 

My sister tells my wife and my wife storms of the alter to the room and hugs our daughter and tells her she was right not to give in. 

And then her grandparents come in. They say i’ve corrupted their grand baby by teaching her not to listen to them, by letting her choose what to wear. 

Then they say “She’s not your daughter so stop acting like she is”. 

My wife got PISSED. She yelled that they’re ruining the wedding and that I raised our daughter (we do have an awesome family) and that they shouldn’t have gotten involved. 

She then kicks them out of the room and admits to me they’ve been trying to get our daughter to wear this dress for the wedding for a few weeks cause apparently her Tiana outfit was tacky. 

So, since we spent money on this damn wedding, we couldn’t exactly cancel, and we did still want our wedding, even if it went a bit crazy. So my wife explains to our lovely friends that there was an accident with our daughters dress and the grandparents go sit down with the smuggest smiles on their faces. Cause now, our daughter has nothing to wear but their nice dress.

And then our daughter tells me she’d rather wear the wine Tiana dress than the itchy one (I should also add, my daughter has some sensory issues- especially with things that itch, we carefully pick clothes for her, but her grandparents tend to ignore that).

Luckily though, I am an awesome step-mum who saw the ruined dress she was holding when she walked in, the vest she could not wear in our wedding, and upon hearing about the  ugly dress- immediately texted my parents and told them to drive to our house and pick up her older Tiana dress. The battered one. That I demanded not be at the wedding since it was clearly old (we went back to the same, fancy, non itchy dress place to get the second Tiana dress for the wedding). 

Luckily we wanted to be close by our house, so we were only like 15 min from the house by car, so there and back, and 30 min later, my parents arrived with the old dress.

(that was basically the same amount of time the arguing took anyway). 

So yeah, long story short, she got to wear her nice Tiana dress (if a bit old looking) and we got happily married.

BUT now my in laws HATE me. Not joking. They think i’ve undermined them for life and have left me several scathing voicemails (I chose for my own peace of mind, not to pick up the phone). They never totally liked me since were both women and they weren’t super on board with the idea. But so far they’ve been happy with all the hoops I jump through (very happily btw, I would give that little girl everything) for their grand daughter. But now it was against them, they are mad.

And now my wife is mad at them for their actions during the wedding and being mad at me now. She called her mum a narcissist. To her face. And now they’re seriously very mad at each other. 

Is there anything I can do to make this a bit better? ALSO, my wife doesn’t want to leave our daughter with my in laws while we’re on our honeymoon anymore, which was our plan before the wedding, so we asked my sister if she could and she’s happy to.

But i’m worried all this arguing has upset our daughter, and with the new place, not being settled yet, i’ve been thinking about asking my wife if we should push the honeymoon back a few months (the place we book at had very good refunds and flexibilities- we chose specifically in case we had to change it since our daughter tends to get sick a lot and we wanted to be able to move it in case we needed to stay) so we can get settled and make sure our daughter isn’t blaming herself for the arguments. 

I just want everything to feel stable and I’m worried our daughter might not feel very stable if we leave in a week or two (knowing this family, solving conflicts until they’re not ever-present usually takes at least a month and a half). 

Hi!

I just wanted to say first off, I am so proud of you! You did exactly right by your daughter, and in a situation like that one, it definitely can't have been easy. As someone who has stepparents, seeing a stepparent treat you as their own means SO much, even a kid. You are amazing for doing that <3

But genuinely, I don't think I'm the person to ask. I think this is a conversation to have with your wife. Luckily, it seems like your wife wants to put your daughter first just as much as you do (seeing as she's realistic about how horrible her parents were- thank god!), so I think you need to ask your wife how she feels about putting off the honeymoon. You both know your daughter best, you know? And parenting (good parenting) is about communication and knowing your child.

You've done amazing so far- keep it up!

I'd love to hear an update! I'm naming you mom anon.

[moviemunchies]

I remember that as soon as I saw the trailer for this movie, I had a feeling it would be exactly the sort of movie I’d love to see. I love sibling stories, and I love when movies and television shows have scenes where just about anybody is ready to throw down at the drop of a hat no matter how ridiculous it seems (that’s one of the reasons I loved Scott Pilgrim).

I knew that I had to see this movie, basically.

Polite Society is a film about two Pakistani-English sisters in London, Lena and Ria. Lena, the elder sister, recently quit art school. Ria, the younger sister, is still in high school, and despite her parents and teachers thinking she’d have a good job as a doctor, she wants to be a stuntwoman, and Lena helps her make videos where she shows off her martial arts moves.

Things get rough when rather suddenly, Lena starts dating a new guy, Salim, and quickly gets engaged. Thinking that her sister is giving up her career as an artist to be a housewife, Ria decides that she’s got to break these two up and make Lena come to her senses. But then Ria discovers something sinister is actually going on, and so this is about more than resentment about her sister’s life choices.

Know this going into the movie: this isn’t realistic. It’s quite ridiculous, in fact. Characters who have no reason to know martial arts suddenly do, and the villain displays a noticeable lack of awareness of how non-beneficial the Evil Plan even is. That doesn’t change that it’s loads of fun, because the movie knows how ridiculous it is. The Khan vs. Khan fight proves that, with how over-the-top it is, and how little their parents seem to regard the damage it causes.

Something that surprised me with the movie was how the trailers for this movie spoiled the tidbit about there being something evil going on (and a couple of the scenes towards the end). The movie itself doesn’t make that clear until quite a ways into it–until then, you might think that Ria is only imagining that her sister is throwing away her life for something she doesn’t agree with, rather than there being a villain of the piece. Then again, with the random martial arts fights you might have given you a clue that this isn’t just a family drama.

I should say, talking about the martial arts scenes: they’re over-the-top, and not the “realistic” style of something like John Wick. Obvious wire-work abounds. That doesn’t change they’re fun, because they’re the kinds of fight scenes we all always wished we had in our own lives. Well, I always wished I had in my own life.

More directly, this is a story about two English Pakistani sisters. Their ethnicity is not incidental, but very often it feels as if when someone makes a movie or television show about ethnic minorities, they’re pure drama about their struggles and meant to make white people feel like they’ve learned something (YES I’m still resentful about the lack of Puerto Rican genre fiction in the mainstream). This movie doesn’t ignore their specific struggles–the story wouldn’t be the same if they weren’t part of the London Pakistani community, for instance. But it is nice to see that someone realized that a genre film about Pakistani girls that isn’t boring, angsty Oscar-bait.

That being said, I hope this movie wins awards and gets both popular and critical recognition. It’s a great, fun movie. I want you to see it. I want everyone to see it. Well, not everyone–there are some jokes and references that are not appropriate for younger audiences. But I want a lot of people to see a movie about a sister willing to beat the snot out of anyone who tries to stop her elder sister from living her dreams.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @time-for-a-grandkid-round-up, based on the prompt: “camilo cheering up his family.”

I’m only going to do one person as doing everyone would take forever. And as Camilo cheering up his (side of the) family is a little overdone at this point, I’m going with his favourite cousin. Enjoy!

~~~~~~

Throwing Away the Dry Petals

“I win.” Dolores exclaimed, placing down her ace card.

Camilo groaned. “You win every time. You’re clearly cheating.”

“I’m better and smarter than you, Camilo, that’s hardly cheating. You can’t be mad just because I wasn’t dropped as a baby.” She said.

“Hey! I wasn’t dropped as a baby! Tío Bruno caught me! He just let go for a little…” Camilo trailed off. “Besides, Tía Julieta would’ve healed me. I’m her favourite.”

“You’re nobody’s favourite. You’re a pain.”

“Not true! It’s Mirabel whose nobody’s favourite.”

Casita’s front doors swing open almost hitting both the siblings as Isabela storms through, barely noticing them at all.

Dolores is unfazed, she no doubt heard Isabela coming. She doesn’t even flinch. And Camilo would be lying if he said he wasn’t amazed by how well his sister can keep herself so poker face, even when she hears everything. And almost got hit by a door.

“Hey, Bela! You wanna play with us?” Camilo asked.

There’s no response. Isabela just continued walking away.

“Isabela? Hello? You okay?”

Still nothing. Though, to be fair, she’s probably go far down the path to town to hear him now.

“What’s wrong with her?” He turned to his sister. Her gift was annoying most of the time, but it did mean she knew everything about everyone and it came in handy.

“Ramona broke up with her last night.”

Camilo was speechless.

“Isabela, Isabela Madrigal, was broken up with? But she’s always the one that breaks up a relationship!”

“Exactly,” Dolores said, dealing the cards. “She’s been distant all morning. I don’t think she’s slept either.”

“I really liked Mona. She use to give me and Toñito sweets.”

“Isabela did too.”

“But… why? Things were going well, right? It wasn’t like Viviana, who just flirted with Luisa the whole time, right? Or Sola, the one who just wanted to date a Madrigal? Or—” Camilo cut himself off with a gasp. “Tell me it wasn’t like Gabriela who didn’t like cacti.”

Dolores sighed. “No, it wasn’t like Gabriela. Gracias a Dios, ella no quería tener que lidiar con eso otra vez. Well… Ramona didn’t really give a reason. Just something about Isabela not meeting expectation.”

“Sounds like something Abuela would say.”

“Why do you think Isabela has been acting this way?”

Camilo stood up.

“Wait, where are you going? Don’t you want to play?” Dolores inquired.

“I’m gonna cheer up our cousin,” he answered, determinedly.

“If it’s egging Mariano’s house again, I swear to God I will tell Abuela—”

Her statement fell on deaf ears as Camilo was already sprinting away and laughing at the thought. It was always a good idea and it did always brighten Isabela’s day.

However, he really doesn’t wanna have to deal with Abuela or his parents making him clean the entire Guzmán house again. That thing is huge!

They always could throw eggs at Ramona’s house. Or anyone of her other exes. They could plant cacti outside of Gabriela’s. But he suddenly had a different idea in mind as he began searching for her in town, amongst all the chaos and people.

Camilo found Isabela sat by herself on a bench, staring off into the distance.

She watching a group of young adults, laughing and having together - though Isabela didn’t seem to be looking at them at all. Rather staring straight through them.

“Hey, Isabela? You doing anything?”

It took a moment, but Isabela did turn to him. Shaking her head, as though she’d been pulled from some vision like Bruno.

“What do you want, Camilo?” Isabela asked, not sounding angry but not friendly either.

“You know Eduardo Rodriguez? My age, plays football? Anyways, his older brother, Miguel, is getting married today.” He said.

Isabela blinked. “Um, congratulations? What does this have to do with me?”

“I promised Eduardo that I would go to the reception with Dolores, but she has a date with stupid Mariano and I don’t wanna go alone. So I was wondering if you wanted to go to La Hora Loca with me?”

His cousin didn’t immediately reject the idea, even looked to be considering it. A wedding wasn’t Isabela’s ideal way to get over a break up.

However, Camilo was nodding his head eagerly and encouragingly that she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him again. Why Dolores didn’t just take Mariano to the wedding, she didn’t know - wouldn’t a wedding be a better date than dinner with the family? Never mind, this would be a distraction for Isabela and it wasn’t like she had any plans of her own.

“Okay, I’ll go. But you better change. You’ve split something on your ruana.”

“What? You of all people can’t seriously be complaining about stains! Have you seen your dress? It’s covered in who knows what!”

“Alright, I’ll change too.”

Camilo smiled, satisfied. He was going to get his cousin to smile too before the night was over. Isabela got up and grabbed him by the shoulder as he turned to walk.

“Insult my dress again and I will plant belladonna in your stomach.”

“Noted.”

~~~~~~

An hour or so later, having changed several times over based on the other’s complaints, they finally arrived at the wedding reception of Miguel and Vanessa Rodriguez.

The lateness was definitely the fault of them both considering themselves style experts.

It was times like this that made Isabela realise how many people were in Encanto and how few she actually knew. There were a few faces she recognised but she couldn’t associate them with any name or memory. While Camilo was effortlessly smiling and waving as he pulled her through the crowds of people.

He hadn’t really conversed with anyone though or even congratulated the bride and groom, but she didn’t really think about it. There was plenty of time for that.

Camilo was distracting her with a story of the last wedding he had attended - an old school friend of Félix’s. An event he ruined by sneaking off into the kitchen and eating the entire cake.

They’d been laughing and drinking for almost two hours at the bar when Isabela hopped out of her chair and extended a hand to him.

“Right, let’s go. We’re not sidelining this party, we aren’t Mirabel. Introduce me to Eduardo and the rest of your friends or the random people you know here from babysitting.”

“I don’t know ‘em. We’re crashing.”

Isabela stumbled backwards a little. From shock, not the cocktails she’d been enjoying.

“You don’t know anyone? I thought you knew Eduardo. You said he’s your age and plays football.” Isabela demanded, whispering.

“Yeah, he’s in my class and on the other football team, but I don’t know him.” Camilo shrugged in response.

Isabela raised an eyebrow. Then she snickered. “That’s a lie. You’re just trying to piss me off.” But Camilo’s signature smirk, usually one given to Dolores, made its appearance. And Isabela paled.

He wasn’t joking. He had invited her to a stranger’s wedding.

She quickly started downing a series of shots that some other guest had ordered and regrettably left unattended.

Camilo was all but losing it, clearly enjoying himself. Though he did lean over and say, “We can leave whenever. Just have fun and relax. What’s wrong with your cousin trying to cheer you up?”

Though Isabela wasn’t yet drunk enough to completely abandon her moral compass, she grabbed Camilo’s hand - a little tighter than necessary - and dragged him to the dance floor.

They weren’t hurting anyone or ruining anything. They were having fun. And goddam, they were good drinks.

So as long as they kept to themselves and nobody caught on, it was okay.

For the next few hours, the pair danced and definitely outshined everyone in the process. Pepa was an excellent teacher.

They took breaks every so often to return to the bar - Camilo did keep Isabela from getting herself totally drunk, which was just as challenging as Dolores complained it was. Though Isabela’s alcohol tolerance was impressive. In turn, Isabela did her best to keep Camilo from drinking alcohol altogether.

They partook in the snacks and cake, and even several photographs. Quickly heading to the bathroom when someone started to question them.

It wasn’t until Camilo ended up chatting with the groom himself that their plan had totally fallen apart.

“You must be a friend of Vanessa’s, how did you meet?” Miguel had asked, innocent enough.

“I’m not. I don’t know her at all.”

Camilo hadn’t meant to say that. He might have been able to save himself, claiming he was someone else’s child, but the way he flushed red and his eyes widened with guilt, there was no chance.

Meanwhile, Isabela had found herself chatting with the younger sister to the bride, Elena.

So when Camilo suddenly sprint by and pulled her away by the hand, she was confused but not particularly surprised. It didn’t take long before she matched his pace and they ran out the building, with several angry family members chasing after them.

They continued running until there was no sound of footsteps and shouting, and they were safely hiding in nature. They stumbled along a clearing overlooking their town under the moonlight.

For a few moments, they were just panting and laugh every time they caught each other’s eyes.

“We got kicked out of a stranger’s wedding,” she wheezed.

“And we had fun while doing it,” Camilo retorted. “Don’t tell the adults though.” He added, just to be sure.

“Why?”

“Why? So we don’t get in trouble?”

“No, I mean, why did you take me? You could have taken one of your actual friends.”

“Because you were upset and I wanted to cheer you up. Dolores told me about Ramona.” He admitted, gently. “You wanna talk about it?”

Isabela just returned to being distant at the mention of her ex-girlfriend. She had almost forgotten about her. The memories of last night resurfacing as she watches the stars.

Ramona had liked stars, was planning to go study them abroad. Isabela had ransacked her Abuelo Sancho’s collection of books to find some about constellations and astrology to impress Ramona with facts and things, and it had worked.

But she hadn’t changed or hidden any part of herself. Ramona was dating the Isabela she had always known.

Which is what made the comment about her not meeting expectations rough. They hadn’t discussed any expectations for each other - relationships didn’t require them. So how on earth did Isabela fail to meet something that didn’t exist?

Fuck. Dating Mariano was simpler than this. At least Isabela knew where she was screwing up: hiding herself.

She gasped when Camilo threw himself into her arms in a hug. Immediately, she pulled him tighter.

“What’s this for?” She asked.

“For you, duh.” He mumbled. Camilo was trying not to cry, laughing as a cover. “Fuck Ramona. It’s her loss, you’re brilliant. And you don’t deserve to be sad because she’s a loser.”

“Poetic.” Isabela said, sarcastically.

“I try,” Camilo flipped his hair dramatically. “I mean it. Fuck Ramona and her expectations, whatever they were. You don’t have to meet expectations. Expectations are just stupid. You’re you and you’re amazing. You’re one of my closest friends and role models—”

“That’s concerning.”

“Stop making me laugh. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Can’t help it.”

“I’m trying to be serious right now.”

“Good luck with that.”

He almost laughed, genuinely, that time. But he wasn’t going to let himself be distracted - this was too important. For good measure, he put a hand over Isabela’s mouth. She was smirking underneath; he could feel it.

“I know things about perfect expectations are still kinda hard for you, but don’t let this one idiot bring you down. Ramona doesn’t know you like we, I, do. There’s nothing about you, on the inside or outside, that needs changing or hiding, just because some random decides it’s not good enough for them.”

Under his hand, there’s a muffled, “There’s nothing wrong with my outside. I’m gorgeous.”

“Great! So apply that same logic and confidence to your inside. You can’t really believe that someone knows how you should act better than you do. Trust me, I’m an actor.”

“I can’t. It’s different.”

“Why’s that?” Camilo asked, removing his hand. Isabela was no longer smiling. He wasn’t asking to catch her out or tell her she’s wrong, but just willing to offer an ear— God, he’s more of Dolores’ brother than he realises, isn’t he?

“I don’t know. It just is…” she shrugs a little. “My inside was the part I changed, the part I believed was wrong. People are forming real connections because they like or dislike me, not my appearance. I’m not bothered…” she sighed, turning away. “We were doing so well and it just came out of nowhere. Mona couldn’t even give a reason. If it’s something I’ve done, how am I suppose to fix it for my next partner?”

Camilo nodded in understanding.

He couldn’t relate to his cousin, but what she was saying made sense. He could see why it upset her and why she blamed herself.

“You can’t,” he said. “You can’t fix it. Someone will come along and maybe they will like you or maybe they won’t. Not everyone likes everyone. I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong. If you had then Ramona would have an actual reason to break up, right?”

“I guess.”

“So whatever it is, it’s on her and it’s out of your control.”

Isabela nodded. She smiled a bit.

“Do you feel any better?” Camilo asked. Admittedly, a little hesitant.

She snorted. And for a minute, she looked like she was about to say no. Then she softened, “Yeah, I do. Thank you, Camilo.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he said. “It’s my job to make people happy, but I care about you. So it’s from a place of love, not work, okay? But, uh… Did you have fun tonight? Or last night? I’m not sure what the time is.”

From the grin covering Isabela’s face, he could already guess the answer, but being pulled back into a hug was the real confirmation.

“The most fun I’ve had in years.”

An idea crept into Camilo’s head, just as they started making their way back home.

“Hey, are you tired yet?” Camilo asked. He stopped and Isabela looked at him, strangely. “I’m not tired and I’ve got an idea how we can make this night even better.”

“I’m listening.”

When the pair awoke the next morning, they were instantly questioned by the adults of why they had been out so late and why there were several angry townspeople waiting outside Casita. They shrugged it off and laughed, claiming they had no idea. Ultimately, nobody worked out it was specifically them who had crashed the wedding. But the town was ripe with gossip about two infamous wedding rashers, and Dolores seemed to be suspiciously glancing their way.

And, well, watching Ramona clean eggshells off her roof was just the icing of the cake.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 12 - Don't be scared, it is mostly fluff

Winter’s grip had slipped enough to allow a bright day in Velaris. It was cold enough still that they needed to bundle up in coats and scarves – which Azriel took great care in tucking around Nesta’s neck and into the front of her coat, peppering kisses on her skin as he did.

The atmosphere had changed. From those first rays of sun that signalled the demise of winter, everybody seemed to have a spring in their step. Each market trader they passed whistled or called out a chipper hello. Children were out with their parents, tugging their hands along.

‘This is lovely.’

Although the late February sun was thawing the world, giving way to the beginnings of spring, Nesta still felt a little uneasy. There were a few looks as they passed. Some looked away then back as if piecing together bits of a story. The Cauldron born sister who’d been ready to die with the general… but was now walking along arm in arm with the wrong Illyrian. Sensing her tension, Azriel squeezed her arm.

‘Our love is ours. It belongs to nobody else.’

If Nesta had said she wanted to return to the apartment, she knew that Azriel would not question it. He’d even winnow them rather than prolong it by walking. It was nice to be out. Not to hide. The apartment had begun to feel like a jail with the four walls compressing in on them. Nesta could not run back to it at the first sign of discomfort. It could become their sanctuary again, a home filled with love. Nesta squeezed the arm she held a little tighter.

‘Where would you like to go?’

‘I have never really been anywhere here,’ Nesta admitted save for the few taverns when she’d been too lazy to cook and they offered hot food at a handful of coins.

Azriel led her along the winding streets, quietly mentioning places they could visit or shops she might like. Nesta was happy to listen. Happy for him to steer them along.

‘George has asked whether I can begin working alongside him at his office,’ Nesta said. Her elderly neighbour had stopped her in the stairwell, asking whether she’d consider the employment alongside his son for a real wage rather than a pouch filled with coins stuffed through her letterbox.

‘That’s great news. Still managing the accounts?’

‘Yes.’

Azriel leaned in to kiss her temple. ‘I’m proud of you. Well done.’

‘I haven’t started yet. I might be awful at it.’

‘I can still be proud of you. And you won’t be awful. Don’t say such lies.’

They walked to the opposite end of the city. It was the most Nesta had walked, ever. They reached a set of gates that were propped open with a wide path running through the middle. Despite the season, all of the flora around them bloomed with colour.

‘What is this place?’

‘A botanical garden kept thriving by magic.’

It was beautiful. There were even bumblebees gathered on the row of lavender growing, butterflies swooping in front of them as they passed from one flower to the next.

‘One of Rhys’ ancestors supposedly planted the first tree here for his love.’

Nesta pulled Azriel in for a kiss. ‘And why haven’t you planted me any trees?’

His lips brushed against her ear as he murmured, ‘If you’re a good girl today, I’ll bend you over the counter tonight instead, how’s that?’

Their sexual appetite had been suppressed at Rosehall. Nesta was almost too scared to even kiss him knowing his mother was in the same house. She was still mortified that Rovena had seen them both in bed together even if they’d been drowsy and not long opened their eyes rather in the middle of a scandal. They had certainly made up for it in the couple of days since they’d returned to Velaris.

‘I suppose that’s satisfactory.’

Azriel let out a noise like he’d been struck. ‘Satisfactory? That’s how you grade me?’

‘Would you like a full report afterwards, Spymaster? I shall judge your stamina, the effort, originality, and of course, how many times I receive my pleasure.’

They walked through an orchard where trees dripped with ripe, swollen fruit. Azriel pulled Nesta in with an arm around her shoulders. A slow, creeping smile made its way onto his face. ‘When I’m done with you tonight, you won’t be able to think about anything but me for a week.’

‘Don’t make such rash promises.’

Azriel blew out a breath. ‘You’re in a teasing mood today. That’s alright. Whatever you give me now, I’ll give to you worse tonight. When you’re on your knees begging me to let you come, know that you started this.’

Despite being in public, despite everything else, Nesta nuzzled her face into Azriel’s neck and let out a satisfied little groan. She ensured that her breasts pressed against him as they walked, with him guiding her steps. ‘You wouldn’t be so cruel to me. And your shadows definitely wouldn’t.’

Nesta had tried her best to reverse her teasing but the male was more stubborn than her. Azriel kissed her simply on the head. ‘You’ll find out tonight, won’t you?’

There was a small vendor in the botanical gardens amongst the waxy plants from hot lands. She sold cones of spiralling pastry rolled in cinnamon sugar and almonds then filled with cream and melted chocolate. Nesta's eyes had gone as large as saucers when she’d saw them. Azriel indulged her whim, choosing to watch her devour it rather than have one for himself.

‘Apparently, they come from Illyria. That’s how they flog them here. But I’ve never seen them there,’ he said as Nesta got stuck in gobbling the edges.

‘It’s so good.’

‘Nesta, stop moaning like this in public,’ he urged, subtly adjusting his trousers. Shadows wreathed the bench they sat on.

The sugar rush was worth it as Nesta ploughed her way through half of it in record time. It dripped onto her fingers. The cream ran down her hands quicker than she could lick it off.

‘Help me,’ she begged before sucking a finger.

Azriel sat with wide eyes. ‘We’ll get called exhibitionists if I help.’

Nesta had never allowed herself to be so undignified in public before. Chocolate was smeared around her lips, sugar had dropped all in her lap, and she had eaten it with absolutely no manners whatsoever. But Azriel remained opposite her on the bench, eyes sparkling with amusement at the state she had gotten herself into. He’d take all of her; even the parts smothered in sugar.

‘I didn’t know it would be quite so messy.’

Azriel gave her one of his rare, true smiles. It lit up his whole face. He was so beautiful, like a hero from a story given flesh. His arm went around her again on the bench to draw Nesta close. With a sigh, he said, ‘My Nesta.’

His body warmed them enough to remain on the bench watching the world go by. And it was nice to let the world move past them, unhurried and undisturbed. Today was a declaration to the world that they were together – and always would be. It would garner wings, no doubt, that the Night Court’s shadow singer had entwined himself with the Kingslayer and spread maybe even further than the court’s borders. But Nesta never cared for gossip. The only one whose opinion had any value was sat beside her with his head tilted against hers.

‘I didn’t know this place existed,’ Nesta admitted on their final amble through the bark-covered paths of the gardens. ‘I should have brought Elain here when she was struggling. It might have helped.’

‘It might have helped,’ Azriel agreed. ‘But what you did was enough. More than enough, Nesta.’

It didn’t feel like enough. Enough would have been stowing Elain safely into Graysen’s arms the second Feyre and the Night Court left their home in the mortal lands. They should have anticipated an attack from Hybern. Enough would have been wrenching herself free from the sentry’s arms and somehow saving Elain before she was pushed into the Cauldron.

‘Hey,’ Azriel said, stroking her cheek. ‘Regrets will eat you up from the inside out. Don’t feed them.’

***

Although both of them preferred the quiet solitude that came with their home, neither was willing to return to it that day. Now that they could be out together without needing to hide or fabricate a tale, it was bliss. After hours spent in every shop Velaris had to offer – including the lingerie one which Azriel was more than happy to spend a fortune in – they finally strolled back towards their apartment. This female had him entirely under her control. He’d follow her off the end of the world. And she was currently mentioning how much she had loved his mother’s cats, and how nice it would be to have one. Azriel gave himself two days before he was bringing one home for her.

‘Oh!’ Nesta stopped in her tracks, turning her face upwards. ‘I know this song.’

She caught his hand and led him down a narrow street to a grimy tavern where music seeped from the open doors.

It was bigger inside than it appeared from first glance, but each table was full of revellers including plenty of lesser fae. The band itself was made up of them; the music was traditional folk music full of fiddles and brass. None of it put Nesta off. Her face had loosened at the first few notes of music she’d heard and her expression had given way to one of relaxation.

They stood with their drinks against a wall. Azriel kept an arm around Nesta’s front as she leant back against him, sipping her ale without scrunching up her nose. Never would he imagine that Nesta Archeron would choose ale, let alone drink it without a fuss. It was cold and crisp. Nesta had slurped the foam top the moment it was in her hands.

Azriel could almost see all of those defences she built slipping away for him. He was privileged enough to see the Nesta who didn’t need to be prim and proper. If she belched in front of him that night, he’d probably laugh himself hoarse after her mess with the pastry. This was a Nesta who was allowed to try new things without judgement, to be the person she wanted to be. And he loved all of her.

When she finished her drink, Nesta didn’t burp. But she did do something else that surprised Azriel entirely.

She began to sing along with the band.

It was a popular enough song that hearing it for five hundred years had ingrained the lyrics to his own memory, but he didn’t even know how Nesta had come across it. She tapped on his hands that were around her waist. She swayed within his arms. Her body tipped back against his as the words spilled out from her lips.

Azriel was mesmerised by her.   

He crossed his arms over her body, keeping his scarred hands on her shoulders as Nesta tipped back her head to look up at him. She continued singing, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she did. Her voice was beautiful. Even when she forgot a line and snorted before starting again, Azriel could have listened to Nesta sing all night.

When seats had become free, they joined a table despite the recognition in the group’s eyes as they settled. Late into the night, Nesta had joined their conversations in between lulls of the songs then eventually Azriel did too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out in Velaris and spoke to its people in a non-official capacity. They stayed in that tavern for the entire night until the wearied landlord tossed them all out into the cold streets.

Full of ale and cheer, Azriel carried Nesta home in his arms. She refused flight, swearing her drinks would slosh too much in her stomach – and she was not in a hurry to get back to the apartment with winnowing.

‘I didn’t know you could sing.’

She squirmed a little. ‘Everybody can.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘It was lovely.’

‘If I’m to be a bard, it shall only be in taverns.’

‘I will sing to shadows and you can sing to wearied travellers over a tankard.’

‘A career I’m considering.’ Nesta looped her arms round his neck as Azriel continued carrying her.

With a smell of alcohol on her breath and a flush on her cheeks from the cold, Azriel had never seen Nesta so natural and carefree. She kissed his face in a pattern then he realised it was to the tune of the last song they’d heard, kissing on the beat.

‘I wish I could take you to the Spring Court. Historically, they’ve always been the best at music. Most of the songs we have in Prythian came from there.’

Nesta sang to him under her breath as she closed her eyes against his chest.

‘Or maybe we can get you an instrument.’

‘I play piano. Or I did. And the harp.’

The moment Azriel stopped walking, Nesta forced open her eyes. They were at their front doors of the apartment building – so was Rhys.

‘Why are you here?’

Gently, Azriel settled Nesta onto the ground and put his body in front of hers. He had been too distracted, hadn’t thought to check for any threats in his city. A hand stayed pressed to Nesta even behind his back as Azriel swept the vicinity for signs of Cassian.

Rhys held up his hand. ‘I just want to talk.’

‘We met yesterday.’

‘For work,’ Rhys said. ‘I don’t mean any trouble, Az, you know that.’

‘Then why are you here at this time?’

Rhys picked off lint from his jacket. ‘Because I’m trying not to go in your head and find you that way to give you space. But I’ve been here three times today and you’ve not been home. I just want to talk. To both of you.

‘We’ve been out,’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t appreciate you keep coming here, Rhys.’

It was Nesta who said, ‘It’s alright. We can talk inside.’

Her fingers linked with his and she brought Azriel’s hand to her lips to kiss it. Rhys remained watching their tender gesture then indicated for them to lead the way. Azriel kept his body behind Nesta’s. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Rhys per se, but he wouldn’t risk Nesta in any way.

Azriel waited for Rhys’ lip to curl. For him to make a comment about the apartment – about its damp stairwell or cracked ceiling – but none came. He and Nesta had tried to make this one more liveable. Soon, they’d buy somewhere bigger where they had more space, maybe a library for her, a cushioned reading nook in the sun. Whatever Nesta wanted, Azriel would build for her.

They moved in synchronicity. Nesta always liked her cup of tea before bed, so she boiled the water while he prepared a tray for three. Their wild plans for the bedroom were already on pause after the night spent in the tavern. Nesta’s yawns filled the silence too. Azriel knew the moment her head hit the pillow, she’d be gone.

Rhys had made himself useful and lit the fire in the living room. He’d settled himself in the chair though he looked about as comfortable as if he were having a meeting in the Autumn Court.

‘These are good. Where did you find them?’ He said taking a second jam tart from the little plate on the tray.

‘Nesta made them,’ said Azriel as he settled beside her on the couch.

‘They’re not poisoned,’ she said with a flick of her brows.

‘You know how to bake?’

Nesta shook her head dismissively. ‘They’re very easy.’

‘She does know,’ Azriel said. ‘She can cook very well. There’s about six recipe books in the kitchen. And she has been learning with my mother.’

Rhys didn’t seem to know how to process that information. He had two females in his mind; Nesta, the sister of his mate, and Nesta the partner of his brother. He was trying to marry the two together. His violet eyes took in their proximity to each other nestled on the couch, how Nesta’s hand had snagged in his scarred one, how her thumb massaged one of the thicker scars following it like a valley on a map without revulsion.

‘Did you enjoy your time in Illyria?’

Nesta nodded in response but offered no more information.

The silence was painful. Rhys was trying at least, but there were long-running issues there between them that a couple of questions wouldn’t heal.

‘She wants a cat now.’

‘Your shadows want one, they told me.’

Rhys sat up in surprise. ‘They speak to you?’

Both Azriel and Nesta laughed. ‘No, she says they do to get what she wants.’

At that moment, one had decided to snake itself around Nesta’s shoulders then another in solidarity. It had never been this way with anybody. The shadows always unnerved people. They moved of their own accord and thrived in the darkness. Nesta loved it when they wrapped her up and Azriel heard her talking to them enough as if they were playful children.

Rhys gave a wan smile as he watched. ‘Have you told Nesta?’

‘Yes.’

The fingers in his hand grew cold as they reached the reason for Rhys’ unexpected visit.

‘What is your decision, Nesta, on the mating bond?’

For an unknown reason, Azriel’s heart beat faster. There was a fear that Nesta might suddenly change her mind. Decide he wasn’t worth this. As if she was afraid to tell him the truth for fear of his reaction.

‘I do not want it. My heart is Azriel’s.’

He braced himself for the fall out. For Rhys to try and persuade her otherwise. For Nesta to drive her heels into the ground with her stubbornness and refuse to hear another perspective.

Rhys only nodded. ‘I will speak with Helion. He is best-equipped to sever it. Sorry for disturbing you so late. Thank you for the tea – and the jam tarts.’

‘You can take the rest, if you want,’ Nesta said hesitantly.

‘They are poisoned, aren’t they?’ There was lightness in Rhys’ tone and he kept his expression soft enough for Nesta to see the joke.

‘Next time - now I know what you like.’

 Azriel saw him out, if only to ensure it wasn’t a strange trick and Cassian was waiting in the corridor to ambush them and spirit Nesta away. He shut the door behind him, sensing Rhys would also want to speak privately.

‘This is a mess, Az. It will destroy Cass.’

‘And what would it do to Nesta to be in a bond that would make her miserable?’

Rhys nodded. ‘And you. She was singing, wasn’t she, when you carried her?’

It was almost criminal to admit to Rhys that he had seen Nesta singing as Azriel brought her home like a princess.

‘We’re happy.’

‘I know. I can feel it from both of you.' On instinct, his eyes flicked to Azriel's ruined hands. Yes, he'd seen how Nesta hadn't pulled away from them either. 'It’s unexpected – but I’m so happy for you, Az. Really. I know how much this means to you.’

‘You’re not going to persuade us to give into the bond?’

His high lord shook his head. ‘Nesta and Cassian aren’t even friends at this point. Why would I sacrifice the happiness of you two for the chance that the bond might work out when all signs point to it not working? I love Cass, I do, and I wish things could be different for him.’  

‘But you support us?’

In the dim hallway, Rhys clasped a hand on his shoulder. ‘I had doubts, I won’t lie. I saw you in the gardens today. Then the singing. I haven’t been good to Nesta, I’ll admit that I’m blinded by my love for Feyre. But you are good for each other. I’m glad you’ve chosen each other. To make amends, I’ll handle Cassian.’

@chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @theleafpile @loysydark @rarephloxes @wannawriteyouabook @mis-lil-red

[chocoluckchipz]

Dreams Of You - 22

Adrien

Technically, there was no way Marinette would dump him for waking her up at this hour without taking him back five minutes later. He’d like to believe their relationship was stronger than that, but… did he really want to anger his girlfriend after she let him spend Christmas with her family—something that turned out to be one of the best holidays he'd ever had—only because he missed her already? And did he really want to be clingy and annoying after he personally had taught Marinette how to create all kinds of things… including a ball of water held above his head by nothing but her powers. That is until she let go, giving him a shower he hadn’t asked for, for the sin of accidentally embarrassing her with one of his jokes. She had helped him to dry up, of course, but from now on, Adrien was going to think twice before annoying Marinette again. 

“Just go back to sleep.” Plagg yawned, settling deeper in Adrien’s pillow. “She said she’ll call you when she’s awake.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, muffling a chuckle. Plagg took to Marinette. A lot.

His gaze shifted to the time. Eleven o’clock and still no messages or calls from his beloved. Was it even humanly possible to sleep in this late? Especially since she’d left their dreamland way before he did… which could be due to a middle-of-the-night bathroom trip. Not like that hadn't happened before, and they did have their dinner rather late yesterday. A middle-of-the-night bathroom break seemed to be a liable enough reason to pull Marinette out of their dreamland for the night. She didn’t fail to remind him not to wake her up today before leaving, but surely she didn’t mean the whole day. Perhaps, just not in an unreasonable time frame?

Adrien sighed, putting his cell phone down. Marinette was pretty clear, and he didn't want to be dumped. Not even for five minutes, and not on such a nice, sunny day. And especially not when he had himself woken up only about half an hour ago. Shifting, he whimpered and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Patience. 

He was the epitome of patience itself and he could wait a little longer.

Ten or even fifteen minutes for sure.

Somewhere in the apartment, a door creaked. Adrien perked up. "Nino?"

“Yeah?” His friend peeked into his room, still shirtless after his shower, a towel swung over his shoulders.

Adrien stood, stretching. There was his much needed distraction. “Anything new back home?”

“I haven’t checked yet. Just woke up. Give me a few.”

Nino headed to his room. Adrien followed, looking over Nino’s shoulder as his friend opened his laptop. A bunch of reports from Max, nothing out of the ordinary. Apart from his obligatory Royal appearances, his father hadn’t celebrated at all, including not even bothering to send felicitations to his only son on Christmas Day. 

Adrien swallowed the hurt. Mother’s condition had changed his father. For the worse.

Lila and Felix went all out, partying the night away at one of the biggest events in the city. No sights of them this morning, though. Most likely sleeping it off like all of them.

No changes in his mother’s condition.

Adrien plopped onto Nino’s bed, staring at the ceiling. “So how was it at Alya’s yesterday?” 

“It was great,” Nino replied, swinging in his chair to look at Adrien. “Her parents are quite nice. The twin sisters are a bit of troublemakers. Nora wasn’t impressed with my physical form.”

Adrien propped himself on an elbow to look at his friend. “What do you mean? You’re in great physical form.”

"I might be by our standards, but Nora's a part of the national boxing team. She’d even give you a run for your money without your powers.”

“Is that so?” Adrien smirked. That sounded fun, and he did need to vary his challenges to not stagnate his abilities. “Perhaps we should test it sometime?”

Nino raised an eyebrow at Adrien. “Don’t say that in front of her. I don’t want my girlfriend’s sister to get in trouble for beating up the Crown Prince.”

“You believe in me that little?” Adrien pursued his lips. 

Nino rolled his eyes. “I believe in you just the right amount. But I also train with you and I did have a wrestling match with Nora yesterday. I see both sides here, and were you to pretend to be a regular human—no magic allowed—she'd be a challenge for you. Not saying you wouldn't win. Just that it won't be easy. And not without consequences in the form of bruises and, perhaps, a few broken bones.”

Adrien hummed, sitting back up and skimming over his cell phone screen again. “So, I guess you’ve been pretty much welcomed into the family?”

“Pretty much.” Nino chuckled, turning back to his laptop. “A few more…” He went silent, leaning closer to the screen and putting his glasses on. “Adrien, you might want to take a look at this.”

“What’s up?” Adrien walked over, freezing the moment his brain had processed the information he was shown. “How am I in two places at once?”

“That’s what I’d like to know as well,” Nino murmured, feverishly typing on his keyboard. 

Adrien frowned, staring at the screen of colourful dots, representing trackers Nino had on people. His green ones were in two different places. He clicked on the one at the center of Dupont, the place he hadn't visited in some time, if ever and was certainly not at the present moment. A pop-up window opened, indicating the exact tracker. “Is that my watch?”

“Yup. The one you said was too expensive to be on the wrist of a regular student in Dupont.”

“But I left it back home in my bedroom.”

“I know,” Nino murmured, his eyes glued to the screen as his fingers typed. “Which means there are only a handful of suspects who could’ve taken it out of your room without raising any suspicions. Otherwise, Max would have informed us already.”

“Where is Lila?”

Nino switched the windows and reported. “In Paris. Felix as well.”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure she’s the type to never leave her house without her cell phone. And we’ve got more than one tracker on Felix. All of them are in his bedroom at the palace.” 

Adrien looked at his phone. Nothing. No missed calls. No messages. A pinch of worry gripped at his chest. He bit on his lip, his finger hovering over Marinette’s contact. Surely, she would understand if he were to call her now? But then… Perhaps, he shouldn’t raise panic before he knew for certain it needed to be raised. He pressed on Tom’s name instead.

The man picked up a few moments later. “Hello?”

“Tom? Hi, It’s Adrien. How are you this morning?”

“Hello, Adrien. Everything is fine. How are you?” Tom replied in his usual cheerful voice.

Adrien tensed. Tom called him by his first name. Not a “son” or a “young man”? No silly banter or teasing? Not even a single pun or a chuckle? Suspicious, but not enough. It was the morning right after the busiest season of the year for the bakery. And it wasn’t like Tom sounded that much different. He might just be too tired for humour while Adrien was too paranoid because of his watch wandering around Dupont without him.

“Is everything okay?” Adrien asked. “How is Marinette? Did she wake up already?”

“Everything is okay,” Tom said. “Marinette is fine. She is awake, but she is already out.”

Out? Without texting him “Good Morning” like she’d always done? Like she’d promised him she would yesterday? She knew better than anyone how eager he was to hear from her every morning.

“Do you know where she went?”

“No,” Tom replied. “She said it was a surprise and that we should trust her.”

Was he talking to Marinette’s father? The one who was more curious and impatient than anyone Adrien had ever met? But then… Tom did love surprises; he could’ve let her go without much questioning if she promised him a surprise.

“All of her trackers are still at home,” Nino whispered.

Okay, that put the stink back into the whole situation because after their trip to Paris and finding out just who she was dating, Marinette had promised Nino to have at least one tracker device on her at all times. 

Adrien asked again, "Tom, are you sure everything is alright? If you need help, tell me to bring pizza for dinner tonight.”

“We do not need pizza,” Tom said. “Sabine is making spaghetti for dinner. You are welcome to join us. I am sure Marinette will be back by then.”

Okay. Perhaps Tom was just tired. He didn’t ask for pizza and he wouldn’t lie to Adrien. That man didn’t know how to lie. But that didn't explain why Marinette had left the house without texting Adrien or taking her purse, her cell phone, or the ribbons in her hair.

“If Marinette contacts you, please, let me know. I’ll see you tonight otherwise.” 

“Sounds good.” Tom disconnected.

Adrien glanced at Nino. 

His friend grumbled and got back to typing on his laptop. “I don’t like it.” 

“Neither do I. Where is Alya?”

“Home. I already texted her. She said she’d been waiting for Marinette to contact her the same way you had.”

“I’m calling her.”

Nino shrugged. “You can try. Alya and I already did, and as I said, her cellphone is in her bedroom while according to her father, she isn’t.” Something chimed on his screen. Nino quickly read a pop-up message and whistled. “We have our watch thief. Want to guess?”

“Not really.”

“Then I suggest you ask your beloved cousin what he was doing in your room yesterday night and why your guards didn't find it fit to stop him.”

“Félix?”

“Max sent over the security camera footage.”

Adrien gulped, pinching the skin at his throat. Félix’s being in Dupont couldn’t be a coincidence. And judging by his recent choice of company, Lila must be somewhere around as well. 

“Not surprising,” Nino murmured. “Félix is one of the few people who have free access to you whenever he wants. He could’ve claimed he forgot something in your room and the guards would’ve let him in without much fuss. But why would he steal your watch? Especially the one he knows has a tracker in it.”

Why indeed? Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed. This was confusing and not like Félix at all. Growing up, they used to be best friends. Félix’s family had moved to England when they reached their teen years, but they remained close. Félix had always visited during summers. This year was the only time he’d stayed behind, though. It was also the first time Félix had barely spoken to Adrien. 

Well, at least, since Emilie Agreste had been found unconscious in the palace’s gardens. 

Adrien had always assumed that both, Félix's emotional withdrawal and his prolonged stay in Paris, were his cousin’s awkward way of supporting Adrien. Félix was never much of a talker or good at comforting others. But he was always there, always in the background, giving Adrien consolation and reassurance by his presence alone.

Stealing his watch, following Adrien to the location he’d hoped to keep secret, though? No doubt, bringing Lila here. This wasn’t like Félix at all. How did he even know Adrien was in Dupont?

Adrien shook his head. Félix could wait. Or better yet, Nino could take care of him. Adrien had a more pressing issue to deal with at the moment. 

“Figure this out,” Adrien said, straightening. “I’m going to Marinette’s.”

“Roger that.” Nino nodded and got to dressing.

“Plagg! Wake up. We have a situation,” Adrien yelled, heading back to his room. Transforming, he activated his cloaking device and jumped out of the window onto the roof. There was no time for getting to Marinette’s the regular way. Something was wrong, and he needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as he could.

***

There was nothing unusual in Marinette’s room apart from her bed not being made. Her cell phone lay on a night table by her bed, all the missed calls and messages displayed on its screen. Her purse was on a chair; her ribbons on her desk. Whatever or whoever had gotten Marinette out of bed, most likely forgot to mention they were heading out to her.

Next, Adrien snuck down into the apartment. Nothing unusual either. Everything was in its place. Tom and Sabine looked the picture of health and calm, working at the bakery as they usually did. Questioning them any further seemed to be pointless, so, cloaked by his invisibility device, Adrien went back to the roof.

Next, he visited a few of Marinette’s favourite places, stopped by the beach, and even peeked into Alya’s house.

Marinette was nowhere to be found.

Calling Nino was his next move. "Any progress on Félix?"

“He’s at the city hall,” Nino reported. “Not clear as to the reason yet.”

“Any sign of Lila?”

“No. Not so far. But Max is trying to find her from his end.”

“Okay. Keep an eye on them. I’ll try the dreamscape.”

“In other words, you’re taking a nap while we work?”

Adrien would've chuckled if the situation wouldn't be this concerning. "That's the only place I haven’t checked yet, and the first one Marinette will try if she’s in trouble. No one would ever suspect she can contact me while sleeping.”

No one except a few people, that is. Lila and Félix included. He had to try, though. Just in case.

“Gotcha,” Nino replied. “Sweet dreams, Your Highness.”

“I’d prefer informative, but thanks.”

Adrien hung up and raced home, popping a sleeping pill as soon as he stepped into the house. One that wouldn’t knock him out for more than an hour or two. He couldn’t waste more time than that.

***

Chat Noir had never been so happy to see his Lady as at this very moment.

“Marinette!” He sprinted toward the lonely figure, sitting on a fallen tree trunk by the lake. Why did he always get dropped so far away from the water? And shouldn’t teleportation be a thing in one’s dreams? Couldn’t he at least have supernatural speed?

“Adrien?” Ladybug’s voice faltered, tears bursting out of her eyes as she scrambled to her feet and ran toward him. “Adrien, I’m here!”

He wrapped her in his arms as soon as he could, pressing her to himself for a few moments before softly cradling her face in his hands. “What happened? Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She struggled to contain tears, her body trembling in his arms. “Lila—Félix.” Shaking her head, Ladybug fell back on his chest and wept. “I don’t know where they are taking me. I passed out from the pain.”

She WHAT??? 

Chat growled, tightening his hold on her. Lila and Félix, she said? He didn't know those two had a death wish, but he was more than willing to deliver. “What did they do?”

“She has this… creature,” Ladybug said, her voice shaking. “Made of magic… like… a giant python or—a huge snake. Félix—he had a fan and feathers and he—he created this thing with feathers, and it bit me. Lila said its poison…” Marinette paused, gulping and trying to wipe her tears. She took a moment to regain some semblance of composure, adding with a calmer voice. “She said it’d kill me in about twenty minutes if I didn’t take the antidote. She threatened Maman and Papa and Alya and you and… I couldn’t do that… I couldn’t let her do that to any of you! I’d rather marry Félix than let you die because of me!”

Chat flinched, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep at least some of his composure because that was his mother’s miraculous Marinette was describing! His mother’s miraculous in the hands of Félix?! 

How? Why? Since when?

And they wanted Marinette to marry Félix? What the hell was going on?

Chat shook his head. His emotions could wait. The important thing right now was her safety. “Did they give you an antidote?” 

The rest didn’t matter. He could guess why Lila wanted Marinette married to someone else. What Félix got out of it, though? He knew very well how much Ladybug meant to Adrien. Félix knew it would destroy him to lose her!

Chat bit on his tongue. That didn’t matter right now either. Right now, all that he needed to know was that Marinette was safe because if she passed out from the pain, it meant her healing powers weren't keeping up with the poison. 

Much to his relief, she nodded. “Félix did. But I blacked out right after. I have no idea where they are taking me—” 

She froze, swearing under her breath. Gripping at him, she caught his gaze. “I’m waking up. I’ll try to find out as much as I can and tell you the next time we see each other.”

Chat held her tighter. “I’ll find you, My Lady. I won’t let them do anything to you. I promise.”

Her fragile body evaporated like the morning dew from his arms before Chat could finish his sentence. A desperate cry escaped his lips; he fell to his knees. 

This happened because of him. 

Marinette was in danger because of him. 

She was in pain that was strong enough to knock her out because of him! 

And he was stuck here until his sleeping pill wore off.

***

An eternity passed before Chat felt himself waking up. A moment later, something cold and wet hit Adrien’s face, sharp pain ripped through his left arm. He groaned, wiping the streaks of icy liquid off his skin and shaking off whatever was stabbing his hand.

“Sorry for cutting your beauty sleep short.” Nino looked slightly apologetic, unlike Plagg, who was taking his sweet time withdrawing claws from Adrien's skin.

“We found Marinette,” Nino added, putting an empty glass to the side.

Adrien jerked up, halting halfway. His head was still a little fuzzy, so he propped himself on his elbows and asked, “Where?”

“You know that fancy hotel right in the middle of town? They rented the penthouse.”

“Lila and Félix?”

“Who else?” Plagg grumbled. Nino nodded.

Adrien tried to sit up. “Right in the middle of the city, so we can’t make much fuss without revealing ourselves. How perfect.”

“Yup,” Nino echoed. “And there is one more thing: Félix was in the city hall because he was trying to get the mayor to marry Marinette and him. Today.”

“Oh, did he?” Adrien pressed his lips into a thin line. He loved his cousin, but he was crossing a line. Everything Félix did in the last twenty-four hours was crossing all the lines!!!

“Don’t worry: the ten-day mandatory waiting period applies even to the king’s nephew.”

“Good.” Adrien tried to sit up once again, plopping back on the bed instead. Damned sleeping pill! Why did it have to work so well and last so long? 

“As a backup plan, Plagg has offered to cataclysm the city hall before they can get through with the ceremony.”

“Just say the word.” Plagg bared his claws. “He can’t just swoop in and steal our Marinette from under our noses!”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow, an amused hint of a smile on his lips, despite everything. Our Marinette?

“Félix did, however, practically lead me to their hideout,” Nino added.

“What do you mean?” 

Nino shrugged. “You know Félix. If he wanted to stay undetected, he could’ve easily done so. Instead, he not only had an activate tracker on him—your activate tracker he knew I would be monitoring—but he also took the most visible route to travel, made a huge fuss at the mayor’s office, and still applied for the marriage certificate despite them refusing his demand. Tell me Félix isn’t smart enough to know we’ll be onto him as soon as he would put that watch on?”

Which made everything that much more confusing. Adrien closed his eyes, gripping tightness in his chest. Why would Félix help Lila kidnap Marinette, but then, practically ensure her defeat by not only alerting them to his and Lila’s presence in the town but also giving Adrien and Nino their location? That didn’t make sense. Just as his next words didn't make sense either. “According to Marinette, Félix wields the peacock miraculous.”

Plagg whistled. Nino’s eyes widened. “He what?”

“She said he created a snake that bit her,” Adrien continued. “Which helped Lila to successfully threaten her into consenting to marriage with Félix. If she doesn't want everyone she cares about to die, that is.”

“Bastards,” Plagg seethed through his teeth. “When I get my paws on them—“

“But—” Adrien tried to get up again. He’d had some time to think before Nino and Plagg woke him up. A lot of things in this situation just didn’t make sense. “I don’t think everything is so clear-cut here.” 

“What do you mean?” Nino quirked an eyebrow. “It’s obvious: Lila wants the throne, and she either knows about the power your father has over you, or she relies on his authority as a king and a parent to make you marry her.”

“Yes, but how did Lila manage to manipulate my father, the wielder of the manipulation magic, into agreeing to that idea?” Adrien asked. “I know you don’t like him, but let’s be honest here: Father never promises and backs out and we had a deal: I was going to search for Ladybug this coming summer. There is no way he’d simply change his mind without a weighty reason.”

��I—“ Nino frowned and looked away. 

“So what?” Plag grumbled. “People are fickle. They change.”

“Can you explain then why he would stress that this marriage is needed for the sake of the French-Italian alliance?” Adrien continued. “I know this is bullshit, you both know this is bullshit, and so does Father. I’ve been preparing to take after him my whole life. I know our internal and external politics better than anyone. Father knew I would catch that.”

Nino glanced away, his frown deepening. Plagg crossed his arms over his chest and plopped on the bed beside Adrien with a huff. 

“Why would he suddenly order me to marry Lila, and then, not only give me an escape clause—in the face of finding Ladybug—but actually letting me out of the castle almost a year earlier than he had to, knowing perfectly well that finding her wouldn’t be difficult for me at all. I know my father, guys. His actions and his words don’t match. It’s not all as clear-cut as it seems.”

Nino pondered on something for a moment, then, swallowed. “You think she’s got something on him?”

“I can’t think of a better explanation right now. But—” He tried to stand up. His head spun, forcing Adrien back down. 

“He could have dealt with it without involving us,” Plagg grumbled. 

“Exactly,” Nino echoed. “Your father knows very well how to deal with threats and blackmail discreetly—a bit of his magic and it’s all over with. Not to mention that as much as I think your father is a dick, he does love you—in his own, special way. He wouldn’t sell you off for whatever Lila had on him.”

“Not unless there was something more important than me on the line,” Adrien murmured. “Something so important he wouldn't even risk using his powers.”

All three froze, their gazes meeting. 

“Your mother,” Nino whispered.

Adrien nodded slightly. “Master Fu said Father has been searching for mother’s miraculous. If Lila had or claimed to have any information regarding the theft, sooner or later, she would’ve ended up in his office.”

Plagg hissed. 

Nino swore under his breath. “You think she promised him the miraculous in exchange for you?”

“That could explain why she still has it,” Adrien whispered. “She’s holding it hostage until our marriage is official. And it can also explain Father’s hints. He was trying to tell me.”

“Why did he let you go then?” Nino pondered. “Your father worships your mom. He’d never risk her wellbeing for anything, and by letting you go out of Lila’s grip—if you’re right in your theory—that’s exactly what he’s doing: risking her life.”

“He’s risking his by selling Adrien off to that snake,” Plagg seethed through his teeth. “I’m not spending another lifetime without Tikki. Where is my cheese? I need a snack before I pulverize that little—” 

In a flash, Plagg zoomed off to the kitchen, leaving Adrien and Nino alone.

“And why didn't he simply akumatize her?” Nino continued. “He’d spare us all a lot of headache.” 

“I don’t know.” Adrien shrugged. “I don’t know why he didn’t use his powers and I have no idea why he let me go, but judging from what we know, I’d say he wants me to help him with whatever the situation is. Now, what Félix is getting out of all of this? It’s not like he has a wife in a coma to think of. And I doubt he really wants to marry Marinette. He’s never even met her, and he knows how much she means to me.”

“And why is he  the one to wield your mother’s miraculous?” Nino added. “If Lila had it, why is Félix using it? Could he be the one who…”

Adrien’s gut twisted. He swallowed, his eyes darting to Nino. 

No!

That couldn’t be true! Félix loved his aunt. He’d never raise a hand against her or steal her miraculous. That just wasn’t him! 

“Adrien, I’m sorry, but it looks like…”

Adrien shook his head, grasping it with his hands. 

This couldn't be true!

Not Félix. He would never harm his family!

What the heck was going on? 

Why was everyone acting like complete lunatics—

Colour drained from Adrien’s face as a realization hit him.  

“What is it?” Nino asked, watching Adrien closely. “What are you thinking?”

Adrien swallowed. There was only one explanation for all of this that he could think of—an explanation so simple, and yet so terrifying should it be the reality. 

“Father isn’t acting like himself,” Adrien spoke, trying to stay as calm as possible. “Félix is acting strange as well. So are Marinette’s parents, because no one can convince me that they would just let two strangers walk into their home, kidnap their daughter, and not raise an uproar about that.”

“Oh, for sure. Tom would give them hell if—wait.” Nino’s eyes widened. “Please, don’t tell me you’re thinking about what I think you are thinking?”

Adrien jolted up, finally able to remain standing without feeling like collapsing at any given moment. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Not when every second mattered. 

“People don’t change overnight, Nino. Not unless someone brainwashes them, and we know better than anyone that that’s more than possible.”

“With your father’s miraculous in Lila’s hands,” Nino whispered, both his gaze and his voice distant. “Wait,” he perked up. “But how did she get it off him? He could've akumatized her long before she even tried!”

Adrien shook his head. “I don't know, but she has it. I know she does.”

“And isn’t your father supposed to be immune to his own powers?”

Adrien gave Nino a look. “Can you hurt me if I’m not using my magic?”

“Sure. I mean you’re still a highly-skilled fighter and won’t make it easy for me, but without Plagg, you're not invincible any… Oh, shit.”

“Exactly,” Adrien said, massaging his temples. “Without his miraculous, my father is just as vulnerable as everyone else. If Lila somehow got hold of Nooroo and put my father under her control, then, it all makes sense. Though, don’t forget,” he added. “No one can use the full power of a stolen miraculous, meaning everyone Lila puts under her spell will have some degree of free will left. That’s why Father’s doing what she wants him to do, but at the same time letting me escape and giving me hints that something’s wrong. He’s counting on me to fix this.” 

Adrien grabbed his sweater and started to pull it over his head. “Damn, I’ve been so stupid. So tied up in my own problems and desires, I almost failed my family.”

“Hey, you’ve—“

“And that’s why Félix is helping us, too,” Adrien continued as he walked to the washroom to wash his face. “He wouldn’t be Félix Graham de Vanily if he didn’t try to spoil the plans of anyone who tried to control him. He knew that watch had a tracker in it. He knew you’d see it being activated. And with all the fuss he made at the city hall, he practically served us Marinette’s location and Lila’s intentions on a silver platter.”

“He did.” Nino nodded. 

“And Lila had to threaten Marinette instead of just akumatizing her and ordering her to dump me or something,” Adrien grumbled, reaching for his shoes. “Marinette’s magic of creation is a tier above the butterfly. Without her explicit consent, Lila can’t make Marinette obey any of her orders.”

“How lucky for her, Marinette will do anything to protect her family and friends,” Nino deadpanned, following Adrien’s suit and getting ready to leave. 

Adrien almost screamed. He had to get to Marinette as soon as possible, because if she’d agreed to marry Felix to save her loved ones, where was the guarantee that Lila wouldn’t try to pressure her into an akumatization next? 

“We have to get her out of there now. I’m not letting that psycho hurt Marinette any more.” 

“Then it’s good that I already have a plan.” Nino smirked.

Adrien wasn’t surprised. “Of course you do.”

“You’ll like it. I promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. Does it include me somehow being lunged across the city from a catapult?”

“Not exactly.” Nino’s smirk morphed into a grin. “But it does include my baby and you falling into her arms.”

“Sounds fun.” Plagg rubbed his paws together, appearing by Nino’s side. “Now, stop stalling. Let’s kick some asses.”

< Previous  Next >

Read it on A03, WattPad, Fanfiction.net

[helenofsimblr]

Stella: Since you want to know about how I met your father, I don’t mind telling you how and leaving no stone unturned. 20 years ago it was one rather grey looking morning at university for me. I was just outside the lecture hall having a cigarette and contemplating my final exams and graduating. I was also thinking about Nigel. 

Morrigan: Who is Nigel?

Stella: Nigel was my boyfriend. We had been together for nearly 2 years from just about my 18th birthday, my father introduced us. Nigel Oakmont was the son of a very wealthy couple, who ran Triple O law. On the mainland, law firms are usually named after the Named Partners in the firm. In this case, Triple O because the named partners were Nigel’s older sister and his two parents, with his father acting as managing partner. Anyway, I digress… My father was hoping and praying I would marry Nigel. 

Morrigan: That sounds very familiar… I didn’t realise such practices occurred among mainlanders.

Stella: Arranged marriage is a strong term for it, it was more of an… unspoken expectation. 

****

Stella: Anyway, I was there enjoying my cigarette when my friend Maisie came along. Maisie is still with me to this day, she’s a named partner in my firm, at College her name was Maisie Williams, she is now Maisie Light. Anyway, back in those days, Maisie wasn’t that choosy literally she’d fuck anything with a dick. If you pardon my candor. 

Ozen: My kinda woman!

Stella: Oz, you are a very handsome young man and you could do much better, trust me on that one. So she was looking mighty pleased with herself.

Maisie: Coo Eee! 

Stella: Hiya Maze. 

Maisie: I literally knew you’d be out here smoking.

Stella: It's break time, of course I’m here, I didn't have time to grab a coffee though sadly.

Maisie: You know smoking is far worse for you than you may think! This science dude I’m seeing, Barry, he said they did this study on rats and like… the rats all had lung problems and shit. 

Stella: Pfft! What a load of crap! I’ve been smoking from age 12 and there’s nothing wrong with my lungs or breathing. I don’t even cough! Also never compare me to a rat again.

****

Stella: So the reason Maisie was so excited was that we were due at any moment to go on our summer break and Maisie decided we would be going to Sulani to spend a week or two. 

Morrigan: This was how you arrived on the island and met our father?

Stella: Pretty much, though initially it wasn’t set in stone that I was going, I did have the small matter of Nigel…

Maisie: Never mind animals Stella, it's time for Summer break soon and that means: SULANI!!

Stella: Yes you might have mentioned it a couple of times. But I can’t just go off and leave Nigel for two weeks Maisie. It's ok for you, you’re mostly unattached, apart from this Barry.

Maisie: He’s ok but he doesn’t set my heart ablaze  really. Come on Stella this is what I’ve been waiting for, go to Sulani, meet a handsome island boy. It's almost like a rite of passage, I need this.

Stella: I can’t just up and leave, Nigel and I are supposed to do something this summer together.

[the-black-dragons-den]

ugh just personal venting of a youngest child, it’s longer than i meant it to be i just needed to get it out. 

the gist of it is that i do appreciate the hand-me-downs i get from my family but i’m allowed to want new things for myself sometimes and i feel like my mom doesn’t see it that way.

my relationship with my mom has gotten (marginally) better over the years but some interactions still just hit me in a spot, man. now that i’m older i think i’m starting to understand the spots a little better, like why these things irritate me so much

i grew up getting hand-me-downs from my older sister. a mixed bag. because of our age difference (8 years) and because she didn’t take the best care of her stuff growing up, the stuff i received was often either “out of fashion” or kinda gross, or perhaps missing pieces or not in the best shape when it got passed down. not all the time, but yeah. anything i wanted, she had it first and if it was still working/functional, that would end up being mine and she’d get a new one.

clothes, hair dryer, hair straightener, the handle for my shaving razor, half-used perfumes and lotions, shoes, sporting equipment, bed frame, bed sheets, bed,  anything was fair game.

and from a parental perspective i do get it. not that my parents were ever anything close to “struggling” but i do get it. and as an adult who still gets hand-me-downs from my sister, i looooooooooove getting stuff from her now, because she buys herself really nice stuff and takes care of it well, so i end up with very nice things that i wouldn’t normally buy for myself.

but where the puzzle pieces fit together is that now, as a working adult, who lives with her fiance, i want to buy myself new things sometimes. like kitchen appliances, personal care items, household furniture and decor, etc. 

and my mom’s constant litany is “don’t buy anything brand new, we have a lot of extra things and we probably have what you need”.  that’s how i had my sister’s first-ever for college (gross, kind of functional) toaster for 10 years (replaced now with use of a jc penney gift card). and how i had that grody old razor handle for like 15 (replaced in a fit of frustration a few years ago). and how i didn’t have decent sharp kitchen knives until a couple years ago when a friend gifted us a nice set. how i was told not to buy a mop because they have an off-brand swiffer wet-jet that will do fine. they’re little things, but over time, there’s been so many.

and again i get it. i do believe it comes from a place of wanting to help me. not wanting me to have to spend money on certain things. i believe she has good intentions.

but the reason it.... hits me in a tough spot. is because it makes me feel like... i don’t deserve new things. and i’m not allowed to want new things. she’s raised me to be frugal and i’ve had bad spending times, but i like to think i’m doing well now, balancing budget with a little self-care once in a while.

and i’ve been talking about wanting a new mattress for a while. like five years. because i have a pillow-top mattress that i slept on for 7 years by myself and 8 more years with my fiance, so 15 years, when most pillow-tops are rated to last 7-10 years. we haven’t had a chance, financially, to buy one, because we’re financially responsible and understand that our bills and rent etc come first. i’m not asking her to buy me a new mattress, I’m just saying we’re looking for a new mattress soon. 

and she comes over with this massive (used) mattress topper, like positive that’s going to make the bed basically brand-new again. the mattress topper is nice, and i am grateful, and willing to give it a shot, which i said. but i don’t know if that’s going to be enough to make the bed comfortable for us, after 15 years of oddly-placed wear, which i also said. i’m not sure, i think we may need more support rather than more softness. 

and she starts asking about the bed frame we just got (50% off black friday baybeeee), whether its supportive enough because they fixed a mattress issue for my sister (like 25 years ago) by adding more support slats to her bed frame. which, our new bedframe has like 8 slats so it’s definitely supportive, plus we have a box spring too, which i explain.

so that’s when the switch flips. not as bad as it used to but still. “well does that mean you don’t want this? should I just take it back?” and i see the anger in her eyes and i’m fucking 8 years old again.

i reassure her that i’m grateful and that it will work well and i’m excited to have it and the moment passes and we move on. and she feels good that she’s given me something.

and i know she’s wanting to help and it’s coming from a good place but that switch gets me every time. 

and i’m left here feeling again, like i don’t deserve new things, and like it’s silly for me to wish to have new things.

i’m allowed to want new things, damn it. 

[starlsssankt]

@an-endless-saga​ sent an ask // 

Noelle fingers twisted and she looked to the horizon.

"She always blamed me for her life going the way it did. Our father wasn't kind...after our mother Faded he took us to the Myrmidons mountains. He worked as a Court witch. We had illyarian blood so I guess it worked for him."

Noelle sighed and turned to look Aleksander rubbing at her arm. She looked like Baghra, but where her sister was all sharp angles she was round curves.

"I - she hated me for being the favorite at court and of our father. We fought a lot, I just wanted her to love me."

She clenched her hand looking to the Keep where Olivier and she lived. She sniffed brushing the tear away looking to Aleksander.

"At first when Olivier and I married she was supportive. Our father didn't like him as he had a lot of debts to pay. But she sided with him and made him change his mind. I was so happy, thrilled even. Perhaps when it counted she would care for. Then Olivier came to me distraught a year into our marriage. He was clearly drunk and he spoke of how they'd kissed, of how Baghra had urged him to keep drinking. I'd been away at the Myrmidon Court for a week. I -"

The darkness in their blood flickered them. The shadows moving over their skin like it did with Azriel. It twined around her fingers like Aleksander's. They didn't always appear as they did on Azriel's. She clenched her hands and looked to the horizon again.

"I believed my sister when she said Olivier made it something it wasn't. After Mikhail and Elias we had you two. She came to me speaking of this Heartender she'd found. Of the bond that snapped. I was overjoyed for her, for the world finally giving the happiness she should have always had."

She looked to him and titled her head.

"Do you know of Rask, of the Western Court psst the True Sea? They had witch hunters long before Fjerda. I assume they trained the human kingdom in it. Anyway, her mate was a rebel, a smuggler getting witches out and to Prythian. He died in a crossing, the baby she was supposed to have born a stillborn."

She exhaled, her body shaking now. She pressed a hand to her stomach looking back to her boy, her Alexei, her Aleksander.

"I think that broke her more than anything else. To see I got what she desperately wanted. I - perhaps I was naive to want invite her into my home. Perhaps I should have been smarter. But our father was gone and I didn't want her to Fade alone in a nest of ghosts. She - she took you on our 20th wedding anniversary. You and your brothers were to be staying with Edan's parents. There was an hour when we had people coming in and out before we departed. It was late and I - something made me check on all of you. And you - you - Azriel wouldn't tell me what happened. He blames me, of course he should. What mother doesn't know where her baby is?"

She clenched her hands and stepped hesitantly toward him.

"I know it's not - I - can I hug you Alexie? Or do you prefer Aleksander? I - I wish I could say I want her to die, to cut her into tiny pieces. But I've died before, I've - perhaps it's cruel that I rather she live to see her loose everything she gained again."

She looked to her hands, her finger twisting her ring, a durast ring. The ring her mother had worn made by her father.

"She left a note that I wouldn't miss you. That I had so many blessings and she just needed one. I sent The Wild Hunt after her. I - I wanted her to die, to be dragged here for death. But I eventually realized she had you. And what if - what if she hurt you? What if she - what if she took you more permanently from me?"

She took a gamble and cupped his cheek, blinking the tears away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't come for you for sooner. I'm sorry we met in the backdrop of a war. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the childhood you should have had."

𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃, and it was as if from a distance that her words came. Of course, he heard them, but they were muted, a fog over their tone. This story he’d never heard, it might have explained why his mother-- 

No, he realized then, as her story kept going. She wasn’t his mother, the woman he’d known. Not technically. Blade strapped to him, he stood almost as still as a statue, staring out at the horizon ahead. Jurian, Azriel... even Anastasiya had left him alone when Noelle had said she’d wanted a moment. 

Now, he had an idea why they’d all gone the other direction.

Aleksander didn’t say anything at first. He listened, and tried to stop the roaring in his head, in his ears, as she spoke, as everything came crashing down around him, and the shadows thickened at his fingertips. Subconsciously, yes, for he didn’t really call to them. Not this time. This time, they were simply responding to the tempest raging inside of him. The storm that wasn’t settling, whose winds whipped his insides up-- 

❝ My name... ❞ He sighed, shook his head, breathed out another long, slow exhale. Like he was trying to ground himself, a ship in a tempestuous storm. ❝ No one calls me Alexie. It’s not-- It’s not my name. ❞ His words were rough, tone tense like every string inside of him was pulled so taunt-- A rubber band just ready to snap. If it was given half the chance

When he felt her hand on his cheek, he turned to face her. Just an incline of his head, a tilt to the side, but it was enough to look at her. At Noelle. At-- 

She can’t be. This tale is too... it’s too fantastical, he thought, but somewhere, deep--deep--down, he knew she spoke the truth. No matter how loudly that wind tried to drown out her words. 

❝ Why? ❞ Maybe that word held too many meanings, maybe he should break it down into the thousands of questions he had. But that one word, it held it all. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t she? Why did no one say anything? Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you find me? Why did you leave me with her? 

Because he’d known, no matter how much his mother--or the woman he’d thought was such, at least, which still blew his mind, and made that storm worse--there was a disconnect. Like she’d do anything for him, but didn’t really love him... He’d chalked it up to the fact that they’d had so long together, just them, that eternity had worn them down... 

But that wasn’t right, was it? He realized that now. 

His eyes met hers, and he knew it. He knew what she said was true. He didn’t know why, didn’t know where that connection came from, but he knew. 

She was who she said she was, and the woman he’d known all his life-- She wasn’t. 

❝ What childhood would that have been? What childhood would I have had that differed from... from what she gave me? ❞ Because they’d always been running. Hiding. Looking over their shoulders... 

And now? Now he knew a bit more why they’d done such a thing. 

[ecruteak-city]

Rating: T Summary:

Evelyn's sisters go their separate ways, leaving her to attempt her Pokemon journey alone, in a foreign region, while still tormented by the "glitches" that their parents had been studying before their death. / Her cousin Kris intends to help in whatever way they can. They have deeper connections to the glitches in reality than Evelyn realizes. Word Count: 3669 Chapter: 1/?

Notes: The Battle Tower Leader Kris headcanon was created (as far as I'm aware) by @stoutlandd! Thank you for having such a cool idea!!

XXX

Kris’s brow furrowed as their cousin shuffled down the Olivine pier. Like a Shuckle using Withdraw, Evelyn was trying to disappear into her oversized hoodie. 

Kris didn’t know what they’d expected. Excitement? Interest? They’d never gotten to go to any region farther than Kanto. It was hard to imagine traveling so far just to stare down at the boards on the dock.

Maybe… maybe Kris was wrong. Had another teenage girl with blue hair stepped off of the ship already? They thought they’d been paying pretty good attention. There were no more passengers getting off.

The girl got closer, and Kris picked out the Lilycove Contest Hall logo on her hoodie. Then she probably was Evelyn. Mom said that Aunt Laz—another relative Kris had never met—had settled down in Hoenn with her husband and four kids. Kris wasn’t sure how that had translated to her and Uncle Ambroise getting caught up in the Cinnabar eruption eight years ago, or why none of Kris’s cousins had reached out to them at the time.

Kris wasn’t sure of anything about mom’s side of the family. It would’ve been nice to have a little more preparation for meeting this wisp of a kid. Kris hadn’t been that small when they’d swept the gym challenge, had they?

They shook their head, ruffling the back of their cropped hair. They’d been cocky, trying to take up more space, cut their way out of being a tiny kid from a tiny town. That attitude had probably made more of a difference than their actual size.

A wheel of Evelyn’s suitcase caught on one of the boardwalk’s planks. Right. Kris should probably be helping with that, rather than staring.

“Hey, kid!” they called, jogging up to her. “Evelyn!”

She let out a soft eep and tugged at her suitcase harder.

“Woah, hey. It’s just me. Kris, your cousin?” They gently took control of the handle, lifting it out of the knot in the wood. “Guess you probably haven’t seen me before, either, huh… anyway, Mom told you I’d be picking you up, right?”

“Uh-um, yes… but I tried to call you and you never picked up, s-so I was right scared I was going to be all alone in a big city without my sisters and.” She took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. I sh-should’ve t-trusted that you’d be here…”

Kris smacked their forehead.

“Sorry. My PokéGear got busted earlier today. Forgot to tell Mom it’s at the repair shop, since, uh, can’t call when your PokéGear’s broke.” They grinned sheepishly, hoping that admitting they made mistakes would make Evelyn feel less intimidated. Or should they have tried to appear more put-together, so she’d be reassured? 

Ugh. Kris didn’t know anything about kids, except that they cried the most when they got their butts kicked. Granted, Kris had seen adults way older than themself cry after Suicune washed their Battle Tower streaks down the drain.

“O-oh. W-well, thank you for… um, coming to get me…” 

Evelyn’s voice had a strange accent. Wasn’t she from Hoenn? Kris had only heard that accent from the rare Galarian visitor to the Battle Tower.

“No problem. I practically live here in Olivine, anyway.” Kris strode forward, guiding Evelyn off of the busy boardwalk. The suitcase rumbled loudly over each board on the dock. “I’m the brains and the brawn of the Battle Tower. They’d be hopeless without me.”

Someone punched them in the arm. For half a second they thought it was Evelyn, before they caught sight of one of the Tower trainers passing by in the crowd.

“Careful there, Kris! You keep castin’ out lines like that, and you’re bound to reel in some humble pie!” the fisherman called, walking backwards with his pole slung over his shoulder.

“I’ll eat it as soon as you catch it for me, Hughes!” Kris called back, and was rewarded with one of his hearty laughs.

They hoped he caught something actually tasty today. With a good catch, Firebreather Wong could cook up some mean Kingler legs for their weekly potluck—

The weekly potluck. Crap. That was tonight.

Kris snuck a glance at Evelyn, who was still following silently, just a pace behind. Normally Kris would say the Tower potluck was the best welcome Johto had to offer. But if Evelyn was already cringing at the noises of the pier, how would she handle a hall full of loud trainers and rich food?

“S-sorry,” Evelyn said quietly when she caught Kris staring. She skipped a few steps, almost landing on Kris’s heels.

“What are you apologizing for?” Kris forced themself to walk slower. They weren’t trying to leave the kid behind.

“Uh-um… I don’t know, just… n-nevermind.” She folded her hands inside the oversized pocket of her hoodie. There was no way that thing was her size. It looked like it would better fit a grown man—

Oh. Dead parents. Kris didn’t know how she kept forgetting that. Maybe because she barely felt like Aunt Laz and Uncle Ambroise had existed in the first place. She hadn’t even known the names of her cousins until Evelyn had looked up Mom’s number and…

Kris wasn’t sure how that conversation had gone. They didn’t know why Evelyn had picked them to stay with, when she apparently had three other sisters.

Not that Kris minded—they’d actually been excited to meet a cousin for the first time. They just hoped they could live up to whatever idea Evelyn had of them.

Luckily, the awkward walk was a short one. The Battle Tower was right down the beach. 

“Oh,” Evelyn said as they passed through the gate and into the shadow of the Tower. She craned her neck up so far, Kris had to catch her shoulder to keep her from falling backwards.

“Don’t hurt yourself, kid. We’ve got a better view coming up.” They winked.

They made their way through the lobby, Kris trying not to get too distracted with greeting her coworkers. Maybe it wasn’t professional, but as far as Kris was aware, there wasn’t another professional battling facility like this. The idea had sprung up after challenging Red at the top of Mount Silver, when Kris had decided they needed a place to battle all-out that didn’t require bringing a partner with Flash along. 

They were still waiting on Red to accept their invitation. Which he would, or else he was stupid and just liked getting hailed on twenty-four seven.

Anyway. The point was, Kris got to make the rules. And the rules said she could crack jokes with the other trainers, and blast music during matches, and show her cousin the sweet view from her room.

“You’re not scared of heights, are you?” Kris thought to ask after pressing the elevator button for floor 100.

“N-no…?”

Her shuddering wasn’t really inspiring confidence. The elevator was already ascending, though.

Kris didn’t need to worry. It looked like Evelyn was too distracted by everything else about their room to notice the height. 

“Oh…” 

Evelyn’s blue eyes were wide as a Hoothoot’s as she scanned the room from left to right. The shelves of pokémon plushes and trophies and knicknacky souvenirs. The desk shoved into the gap between the shelves and TV. The Nintendo64 with only one controller. The posters plastering one of the two walls that wasn’t glass. The noble but, uh, unfruitful attempt at an indoor garden. The two beds smushed together, one higher than the other.

“You… you have two beds… is one, for, u-um—”

“Of course it’s for you!” Kris clapped her on the back, a little harder than they meant to. Oops. “It’s just an air mattress, but I wasn’t sure if you were staying here or with Mom—uh, Aunt Beryl—tonight. I should probably give her a call now that you’re here…”

There was a landline down in the lobby. It wouldn’t be the first time Kris had to call from there.

“Y-you can use my, um, my PokéNav—i-if you want! I saved Aunt Beryl’s number… but, um, you probably know it already s-since she’s your mom. Um.”

Man, did Kris really look that scary? Evelyn was practically shaking out of her hoodie, even as she held out her PokéNav.

“Sure, thanks!” Kris accepted the foreign device, smiling unnaturally bright. It didn’t help much, considering Evelyn wouldn’t look up at her to see it.

Maybe Kris would leave her alone for a bit. Give her some time to settle in. Then maybe she’d be up for doing more fun stuff, later.

“I’ll just, uh—I’m gonna step out for a minute. Make yourself at home, okay? You can play any of my games, or my computer, or—whatever you want. Long as you’re here, this is your room too.”

“U-um, o-okay. I mean, um, thank you!” Evelyn’s smile looked more like a grimace, but at least it was something.

Kris gave her a thumbs up and stepped out of the room. Once the door was shut, she leaned against the wall and rubbed her forehead.

Hopefully Mom would have some advice on how to stop scaring their poor cousin spitless. 

XXX

Evelyn was alone, at what looked like the top of the world. She kept her back to the wide windows—it was probably beautiful out, but her stomach was still upset from the long ride on the ship. She would be a horrible guest if she gave herself vertigo and threw up on her cousin’s floor.

She pulled her knees close to her chest, perching at the edge of the air mattress. Counting her breaths, like Morgan had taught her. 

Tears pricked in her eyes. She bit her lip, trying to force them back.

She missed Morgan already. She missed Nita. She even missed Dana.

She shut her eyes, but all she saw was Dana flying away on Mom’s Moltres, again and again and again, leaving her crying on Lilycove’s beach.

And now she was crying again. Dana had been right to leave—Evelyn would’ve just gotten in her way. 

She rocked back and forth, trying to find some comfort in the gentle motion. Like floating on the waves, clinging to her Finneon’s side, not on the deck of a heaving boat. 

Could she let Sunburn out of her ball here? Kris had said to make herself comfortable, but the Finneon might be spooked by the new surroundings. Evelyn would feel horrible if she broke anything. No, she’d have to deal with this—this stupid, irrational panic—on her own.

She reached into her pocket for her PokéNav to play some music—but it was with Kris. Right. That was fine, too—she was fine, she could be fine, she didn’t need her sisters treating her like, like a baby—

She sniffled again. She was going to get snot on the fresh sheets Kris had given her. Kris would think she was so ungrateful…

She spotted a box of tissues on Kris’s desk. She couldn’t make a mess of those… probably.

Huddled on the desk chair, Evelyn blew through tissues until the rubbish bin was overflowing. So much for not making a mess.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…!

She tried to dry her face on her sleeves. Kris could be back any minute, and if they saw Evelyn like this… oh, she’d be scarlet for herself…

Her elbow bumped Kris’s keyboard, making the monitor flash to life. She flinched, but thankfully, it didn’t look like she’d hurt anything. The screen just showed Kris’s desktop—a photo of them and a smirking redheaded man. They had their arms around each other, and a whole team of pokémon surrounded them. Evelyn didn’t recognize most of the pokémon, but they all looked intimidating. Except maybe the small snail-like one with the red-and-white shell. It must’ve been strong, though, or Kris wouldn’t have it.

Kris was strong. Their Battle Tower made Ma’s old Battle Maison look like a wee shack, and they were as popular among the trainers here as Da had been in the Contest Circuit. Why would they waste their time with a cousin who couldn’t even keep her head together?

Well, they wouldn’t, probably. Evelyn would go stay with Aunt Beryl in New Bark Town. That had been her plan from the beginning—to stay out of the way, where she couldn’t make things worse for anyone.

Evelyn wasn’t strong. She wasn’t fearless, or smart, or determined—not like her sisters. They could carry on Ma and Da’s work without her. 

She dropped her damp face onto the desk—and accidentally hit the keyboard, again. Why couldn't she pay attention to what she was doing—!

Scrambling for the mouse, she tried to click out of the window she’d opened. It looked like a decorations storage box, like Morgan and Dana had in their secret bases. Evelyn had always wanted a secret base, but she wasn’t old enough, and then by the time she was, well—she was here. She didn’t even have a Secret Power TM in case she found a spot here in Johto. Not that she would, because she wasn’t—she wasn’t brave enough for an adventure, Dana even said so, even Nita who was two years younger got to go with Morgan but it didn’t matter how old Evelyn was, she was still a baby—

Her hand shook. She misclicked. What—what did she do? Kris had said she could use the computer, but she didn’t want to mess up her cousin’s items—

The screen scrambled, flooding with nonsense letters and symbols. Evelyn’s legs went numb. She screamed.

(Not again not again not again notagainnotagain)

But then she blinked. The screen was fine. Maybe she hadn’t—maybe she’d imagined it. She was just… just tired. She’d left that—that thing back home; it couldn’t break anything here.

Clicking more firmly, she closed the decoration menu. Whew.

She turned around to see a̷̲̮̕n̸͍̓͝ a̶͚͚̲͇͋͝ḏ̶͊o̸̡͎͉̘̔̒̃r̶͖͙̩̮̈́̀͝à̸̬̖̅b̷̖̺̯̳̍̋̿̄l̵̦̩̳͓̓ȩ̶͔̓—̴̢͉̃ͅ

A doll with her face.

Her shriek put her earlier scream to shame. The doll—it looked just like her, wearing the same clothes, the same sobbing expression stitched into its fabric skin.

Evelyn didn’t dare move—couldn’t move, not with her useless legs—even though everything in her screamed to P̶̱͓̠̯̳̼̓Ǔ̶̡͎̜̳̫̼̙̱͇̖̰̤͖̭̜̰̖̜̟̫̀̇̈́̽̇͋̈́̅͝͝͝T̶̪̟̈́̈́̋͑͆̀́̈͘ ̵̛̥̼̖̹̳̼̞͚̗̟̜̝̩̼̣͙͒̅͑̎̽̑͌͒̏̐̊̍̂̔̾̆̕̕͜I̷̛̩̳̋̂̂͒̈́͗͆͊̋͊͌͋̇̆̚̕T̶̟͛̍̇̀̄̍͊͝ ̸̡͈̭̥̔̑͌͛̍͂́̏̄Ã̷̛̰̝̹͕̹͖̎̽͆̿̉͂̾͊͂̇̒̾͆̂͜W̸̼̫͙̤̖̟͚̘̦͕̙̤̰̭̙͋̀̍̓͒̑́̍̿̓̈́͘̕ͅͅA̶̝͒̓̈́̂̾͂͠Y̷̲̘̪̱̻̟̖̦̰̝̩̺̬̲̆̈́̌͛̋̀̃͑̌͆̑͂̏̅̆̍ͅ.̷̡̢̢̢̺͉̬̙̤͙̺̪̹̜̦̟͚̔̂́͂̀͜ͅͅ. She couldn’t turn her back on it, couldn’t risk it blinking at her with those black button eyes, or—or whatever else it might do. 

She’d escaped the floating question mark—the “D̸̑ͅẹ̵̊ḉ̵a̸̓͜m̸̱̌a̶̪͝r̸̟̀k̷̛̩,” Ma’s notes called it—so why was this happening? Was she cursed, like Dana said? 

Was she going mad?

“Evelyn!” Kris burst into the room, slamming the door against the wall so hard that one of her posters fell. “Are you okay?”

Evelyn had blinked when they’d come in. The doll was gone.

“I—I—” 

She couldn’t get anything else out. She choked off into a pathetic sob.

“Holy—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Kris ran to her so fast they slammed their shin against the coffee table. Still they barely let out a hiss before wrapping Evelyn in their arms. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I won’t leave you alone again—that was stupid, I should’ve…”

Evelyn buried her face in her cousin’s shirt. She was getting snot and tears everywhere, but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t make herself look up.

Kris was strong. If anything happened—if the doll, or the Ḏ̸̉ĕ̶͈c̸̭̿a̸̯͛ḿ̷̮ä̸́ͅr̵̭̂k̵͑ͅ, or anything else came back—Kris could handle it. Maybe they’d make fun of her like Dana, or pity her like Morgan, but she’d still be safe. 

“We—we can find you a new room, if the height’s too scary,” Kris said. Their voice didn’t sound like pity—instead like they were… afraid? 

“N-no!” Evelyn said quickly. “I don’t want… I want—I want to s-stay. With you. P-please…!”

“Of course. You got it, boss.”

She let out a snivel-snort. Boss. She was barely—barely even worthy of being a Grunt.

Kris rubbed her back. They didn’t complain about the snot, or tell her to compose herself. 

They stayed.

“If you wanna talk about it… or, anything else, really… I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Despite everything, Evelyn believed them. Her mouth wouldn’t form any words, though. How could she explain the doll that could’ve been her clone? Did Kris even know about the “glitches” that Ma and Da had been studying? Her tutors had always dismissed such things as superstitions and imaginations. 

“M-maybe… later,” she finally mumbled.

“Okay. There’s plenty of time—Mom can’t make it here until tomorrow, anyway—not that you have to go with her! If you’d rather stay here at the Battle Tower, I mean, there’s plenty of room. Do you like battling?”

The question startled Evelyn enough that she finally looked up.

“I… I d-don’t know? Morgan does—she’s my oldest sister. She wants to be as good as Ma was… b-but, um. I haven’t. I-I mean, I was too little when Ma, um… she couldn’t teach me. So I’d probably be awful…”

And she was rambling, on and on and on. How could she have so little to say and still take so long to say it?

“Well. I, uh, didn’t know Aunt Laz, but I’m no pushover myself. If you wanna learn, there’s no better trainer in Johto to teach you.” Kris grinned.

Evelyn’s eyes widened.

“You—you would? But, y-you must be so busy—”

“Hey, that’s the perk of being my own boss. I can set my own hours.” They winked. “You have a pokémon yet?”

“A-ah—? Oh!” She reached into her hoodie pocket, pulling out two purple pokéballs. “I’ve got—well, I can only really use one…”

She had to squint at the two Master Balls to find the pokémon’s names. She put away the one with Da’s Latios. He was much too strong to fight for a trainer with no gym badges, even if he was always gentle when playing with her.

“Th-this is Sunburn, my, um, Finneon…”

She looked up again, and saw Kris gaping.

“You. You have—two Master Balls? And used one on a Finneon?”

“A-a-ahh! I didn’t—! I mean, me Da caught her for me!”

Kris’s brow furrowed. 

“Man. Either your parents were stupid rich, or the ball market in Hoenn is something else.” 

Evelyn frowned. She hadn’t known there was anything strange about having Master Balls. Maybe she should get some plain ones, just so no one would look at her oddly.

Kris shook their head. 

“Anyway. You’ve got a pokémon, so that’s great! We can start training tomorrow. Tonight, we party.”

Evelyn stiffened. Party? She hadn’t been to a party since… since Ma had opened the Battle Maison, probably. The thought made her nervous, but at least glitches never seemed to torment her when other people were around. A party was the safest place she could be.

“O-okay!” She forced a smile, and Kris patted her shoulder.

“That’s the spirit!” 

Evelyn would be on her best behavior, just like Morgan had taught her. Maybe then she could make up for embarrassing herself in front of Kris.

XXX

When Kris and Evelyn arrived later that evening, a hodgepodge of potluck food filled the long mess hall table. Kris was delighted to see that a bowl of Kingler legs lay steaming in the center of the table. 

“Hey, there they are!” Sawyer waved from the far side of the table, his pokemaniac cloak flapping with the motion. 

“Finally! Almost thought you forgot!” Lancaster laughed.

“They broke their Pokégear again, so I wouldn’t be surprised…”

“Hey.” Kris pretended to look stern. “That was a training accident. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Hmm. Yes.” Ogden adjusted his glasses with a smirk. “Statistically, with the number of times you’ve been unreachable in the past six months, each of us should have had two incidents apiece. Anyone, indeed.”

“Oh, stuff a Kingler leg in it.” Kris grinned. “Literally. Thanks for the grub, everyone. Dig in!”

None of the trainers had to be told twice. Kris snuck their store-bought berry tray onto a corner of the table before the commotion got to be too much.

“Man, I’ve been a terrible cousin. You’re probably starving too, huh?” 

They looked down at Evelyn, who was glued to Kris’s side, like one core of a Magneton clinging to the others. 

“Um—o-oh! No, I’ve been fine, honest!”

“Sure.” Kris nodded, though they didn’t buy it one bit. “You ever had Johto food before? I can show you all the best stuff. The Kingler legs are awesome, obviously, but you gotta try Alexander’s stuffed apricorns, too. That’s a classic.”

Evelyn followed Kris through the line, copying the dishes they loaded on their paper plate exactly. Once Kris realized this, they made sure to get even more food than usual. Evelyn could use a little extra bulk.

Cushions lined the edges of the room, and Kris set down their plate to grab two of them, flopping them down near the biggest group of trainers. While Evelyn poked tentatively at the food, Kris flagged over some of their less intimidating coworkers.

“Hey, Park! Come say hi to my super cool cousin!”

“Raine, have you met Evelyn yet? She’s got a water type partner, too!”

“Andrews, you’re fourteen, right? My cousin Evelyn’s about your age!”

At first, Evelyn looked ready to melt into the grooves in the hardwood, but with each introduction her nervousness seemed to slip away. She sat up a little straighter, smiled a little brighter. Maybe all she’d needed was someone else to have some confidence in her.

Lucky for Evelyn, Kris had plenty of confidence to go around. If they kept her close enough, some was bound to rub off eventually.

That was all assuming Evelyn wanted to stay, of course. She might want to go to New Bark with Mom, where everything was quieter. Less scary. 

Kris polished off their Kingler legs as Andrews showed off her Espeon. 

It was up to Evelyn. Judging from the way she glowed as she pet the psychic pokemon, though, she’d fit in here just fine.

[thenasoneshots]

FandomMas 2023 Day 6 - Chili

Fandom: Pokémon

Prompt: None

Reader's Relations: Chili’s girlfriend

Warning: Slight warning of the reader’s parents being rude and bothersome, basically not nice.

Other Notes: None/Thanks to people on Discord for helping me decide who to use for this (: Also you and the triplers are like 19 or so in this.

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

“You promised!”

“I know, but my parents decided to show up on my doorstep this morning, without warning. I already explained that I’d promised to come over but they said ‘Family is more important than friends’. I did remind them that I was dating you, but they just stated that we weren’t related. I’m sorry. I’ll come over tomorrow if it’s okay,” I replied to Chili, the two of us talking on the phone after my parents had just shown up on my doorstep on Christmas Day without telling me they were coming.

“(Y/n)! Will you hurry up on the phone, please? Your sister’s getting bored,” I heard my mother’s voice come from the living room, “Your ‘boyfriend’ can wait. Christmas is a time to be spent with your family.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to my phone, “Sorry, Chili I’ve got to go. ‘Family matters’.”

“I know how your parents are. I’ll see you soon, I love you!”

“Love you too, Chili. Bye,” I responded before hanging up. I walked back into the living room where my sister ran up to me, hugging me, “Can we do presents now?!”

I nodded and sighed, sitting down in the armchair, that I found rather uncomfortable, as my parents had sat on the sofa, my sister smiling and running up to the tree. She picked one up and looked at the label, before smiling and walking up to me, “This one for you!” I gave her a smile as she handed it to me before going to sit on our mother’s lap. I double-checked the label to make sure she hadn’t just given me a random present and once I’d done that, I started to unwrap it, smiling widely when I saw the photo album inside.

“Thank you.”

“Look inside, I filled it with pictures!”

On my younger sister’s request, I opened it up and noticed that there were a load of pictures inside, quite a lot that had been taken on my phone, “Mia, how did you get all these? These were on my phone and I didn’t send them to anyone.” She looked awaybiting her lip before sighing, “Fine, when you weren’t looking the last time we came I may or may not have air-dropped them to my phone without you knowing… But it was only because I wanted it to be a surprise!” I just chuckled, “It’s alright, and thank you.” She just returned my smile giving me a knowing glance, knowing there were two meanings behind the gratitude as she hadn’t put any photos of our parents it, knowing how much I disliked them and they disliked me.

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

As we were part way through opening the rest of the presents, the doorbell sounded. I removed my little sister from my lap as she’d made a home there, and stood up to open the door, being surprised when I saw Chili standing there, his hair a bit squished due to the earmuffs he was wearing along with his red coat and gloves.

“Chili? You know it’s not a good idea for you to be here when my parents are. You know they don’t like you.”

“I know. (Y/n) why do you put up with them? I know they’re your parents, but they’re like the worst parents ever. Am I allowed to come in? I’m not good with the cold.”

“Don’t worry, Bud, the fire’s on, you can come in, but if my parents start saying anything, then just get out, I don’t want them to hurt you in any way, I love you too much for that.”

“I know. I’m prepared to run don’t worry. Come with me, please.”

I giggled and followed him as he dragged me into the living room, clearing his throat to gain my parents' attention, “This is what happens when you turn up unexpectedly, ruining your daughter’s plans,” Chili spoke to them before turning back to me, fiddling with something in his pocket. He soon pulled his hand out before taking my hand in his free one, “I love you, don’t worry, I don’t care what your parents are going to say but, I love you so much so…” he paused and knelt on down on one knee in front of me, “Marry me?”

I immediately gasped, feeling tears come to my eyes, “YES!” Chili stood up and hugged me, placing the ring on my finger and I smiled turning to my parents, “Well, now you can’t use the ‘family is more important’ excuse. Now if you don’t mind I’d like to spend the rest of the day with my fiancé!” my mother sighed and stood up, leaning into my ear, “You are making a mistake, (Y/n).”

“And I don’t care,” I retorted, “Now out.”

She sighed again and left, my father and younger sister leaving too. Once the front door was closed, I just turned back to Chili, leaning my head on his shoulder, “Thank Arceus they didn’t realise I’m pregnant.”

GymLeaderChili.exe has stopped working.

“WHAT?!” Chili shouted as he came back to reality, “Y-you’re really?”

I nodded, “You’re gonna be a dad.”

“YES! And Cilan said it would never happen and that I was too irresponsible to have children.”

I giggled and pecked his lips, “Well, now you can rub it in Cilan’s face. Merry Christmas, Chili.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, (Y/n).”

—---------------------END OF ONESHOT

And caught up (: I’ll try get one written tomorrow but I’m not sure I’ll have time..

[dollycas]

Special Guest - Audrey O’Connell from Secrets Don't Sink: A Chattertowne Mystery by K. B. Jackson #CharacterGuestPost #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour @kbjacksonauthor @KateBJackson

Secrets Don't Sink: A Chattertowne Mystery by K. B. Jackson

I am happy to welcome Audrey O’Connell to Escape With Dollycas today!

I’m often asked how I got myself into this mess. You know, how did I find myself knee-deep in a small-town murder investigation fueled by secrets long submerged? I’d say it started with what brought me back to my hometown of Chattertowne, Washington in the first place, but that’s only part of the story. The truth is it goes way further back than that. If I believed in reincarnation, I might think my sister Vivienne is the second-coming of my great, great grandmother Frances, aka Aunt Fanny. Frances passed away when my mother was about ten years old, but her reputation lives on. She’d insisted her grandchildren call her Aunt Fanny—not Grandma, Granny, Nana, or Meemaw—likely a way to offset any hesitancy men might have for dating a grandmother. My Gramma May once said Frances was immature and had an underdeveloped sense of self. She was not a fan of her mother-in-law. My childhood was filled with admonitions about falling into the ensnarement of feckless men like Randolv “Swede” Lundquist and Egbert Doughty, two of Fanny’s four husbands. She’d managed to become both a powerful matriarch and cautionary tale, and at times I’ve wondered if Viv viewed those exhortations to avoid unscrupulous lotharios as a challenge rather than a deterrent. None of these stories about Aunt Fanny came from my mother, of course. Despite her ominous warnings to Viv and me about the innate untrustworthiness of men—my long-suffering father excluded—all the details of our family history were shrouded in mystery and shame. I pieced bits of it together from conversations with Gramma May over the years as she tippled sherry every afternoon, as well as from the newspaper archives at Chattertowne Library. My curiosity of this fabled woman I’d never known but who dwelled in my family tree was intensified by my mother’s unwillingness to share the information. Family secrets are a funny thing. If we know them, we might be able to anticipate what pitfalls lie dormant in our DNA to offset our ancestor’s propensity for making certain choices. Instead they are passed down to us in a combination of genetic lottery and incognizant behavioral patterns. Not to say we’re powerless to the 23 pairs of chromosomes we’ve received, congenitally destined to repeat the mistakes and misfortunes of those who came before us because each of us is the result of a random combination of them and result definitely vary. Take Vivienne and me. I’m a five-foot six-inch hazel-eyed ash blonde with what my easily disappointed mother euphemistically refers to as “large bone structure.” Viv is a petite 5’2 with golden eyes, high cheekbones, and hair the color of champagne satin. Her pixie-like beauty stops men in their tracks. I’m often asked to help my friends move. With few exceptions I tend to be a rigid rule-follower. I’ve always believed rules are there for a reason, while Vivienne hasn’t met a rule she didn’t want to break. We were raised in the same family, under the same roof, with the same two parents. We are not the same. I was slowly working my way through the ranks of The Oregonian and attempting to have a modicum of a social life in Portland when my mother phoned to say Viv had “gone off the rails. Again.” I wanted to hang up and pretend the call had never come through, but I did not. I could not. At 27-years-old Viv should be beyond needing a babysitter but I’ve had an outsized sense of responsibility toward her ever since she nearly drowned as a toddler on my watch. As a result I developed a crippling case of aquaphobia—especially tough when growing up in a riverfront community—while Viv has continued lived her life with abandon, unscathed by the incident. I could’ve said no. Deep down I understand I could’ve said no to coming back home to clean up Viv’s mess. Maybe someday I’ll learn to say it, but that day has yet to come, especially when it comes to my baby sister. And while five additional years of life experience hasn’t yielded enough wisdom to overcome my own proclivity for rejecting nice guys and being drawn to ones who will break my heart or—at the least—make me want to change my phone number, my sister tends to elevate her poor romantic choices to another level entirely. Her most recent incident involved getting caught in flagrante delicto with her (now former) boss in the office stairwell by another employee who decided minor extortion was preferable to reporting the relationship to human resources. The result was termination for all three, a fine and a little jail time for the coworker, and a two-bedroom apartment Viv could no longer afford on the money she makes at her back-up gig singing and waitressing at a nightclub called Nautilus. So, that’s how I ended up back in Chattertowne, living with Viv in her dingy apartment, writing for the not-so-glamorous Coastal Current Newspaper, and dodging messages from my married conspiracy theorist ex-boyfriend. Who could have predicted he’d be found floating dead in the marina, and I’d be the one facing my greatest fears in order to solve his murder and rescue my sister once again? Thank you, Audrey, for visiting today! Keep reading for more info about Secrets Don't Sink starring Audrey O’Connell! 

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[lamentschaft]

A moment to contemplate.

A rather special Sunday, 17th September 2023, 1.49 pm

Wait, before we begin, happy birthday, wife! Stay beloved…

Hi. This time I won’t talk about laments. I just would like to review what my family and I had extremely meticulously discussed in a brief yesterday while strolling around and getting some lunch outside. In a mall, to be precise. Shortly, as soon as I finished ordering the food, I very surprisingly got a chat from someone who is presumably more than just a friend. She has been one of the most respectable women I’ve ever known that could be more than just our own relatives. She’s just a college friend, but she is a true inspiration for me and my wife. Apart from what she’s been going through, she’s always done her best to raise her two children as best as she can. Like really! Sometimes, I was thinking that I wouldn’t have ever thought of living my life like hers quite successfully like she did. But, yeah, she made it way up to now and will progress for so many years later ahead. She’s just amazing, truly.

Speaking of the chat, she reminded me of what she’d said back then in June or July. I kind of forget it as it’s been long already. But, she told me that she’s going to AMERICA like TONIGHT! I mean, what? Yes, she’s saying it right. She told me that because maybe going to the USA is obviously everyone’s dream, including mine. And the moment I read that, it seems to all the way shiver up and down my spine. I suddenly thought that this is such an unbelievable truth and fact about people’s lives! in fact, she’s currently teaching at a school somewhere in South Tangerang and living in a modest life, but she’s just chosen by God to go way beyond every single human’s ever imagination. It’s so far away from here, and it’s just for those who are literally super rich. But she can jump over those complicated and long hurdles. What a real blessing!

After an around ten-minute video call or so, I took a moment to recall what I did to my life as I could step and stand on this heavenly island, as what most of them call, Bali. I mean, we indeed will never and ever find out how someone can reach their peak of life and when they’ll eventually touch that point with their grip. It’s just hard and spectacularly difficult to identify that ‘our moment’.

As a new dad with two kids for nearly two years now, I try to go deeper into how I am just like today and become someone people around me perceive. How I’m supposed to do to be someone I’m supposed to be tomorrow and so on. Especially, when I’m looking at my children, I’m thinking what I should do to make their lives be in God’s most beautiful plan ever. They live in prosperity yet modesty, hopefully and optimistically. Then, they can always stick to what they’re asked to live as a human, and how they’re always prevented from lives we never want them to have. I mean, in the end, it’s not all about us; nevertheless, it’s all about how we are ‘requesting’ a good life to God kindly; so that He permits and offers us all to live normally, happily and healthily according to His no-doubt perfect plan and protection. That’s all I hope. Once again, the kinder we’re to others, the easier it is for us to be offered that perfect life from Him, both in His world and later heaven.

At last, have a safe journey, Bue. Everything you’ve done to your parents, family and children has been paid off! You deserve to be happy as He always wants you to. Thank you for sharing this magnificent story of yours, in particular to me and wife. We’re so happy for you and your sister’s family. All is well. Just can’t wait to hear your extraordinary experiences there in the USA! See you on the Christmas Eve!

[sorcerymuses]

Freezing the Heart (Kingdom HeartsXFrozen Drabble)

Fandom: Frozen/Kingdom Hearts

Pairing: N/A

Rating: General (mild sibling violence)

POV: Elsa

Word Count: 844

Summary: When Anna came to Elsa’s ice palace, she wasn’t quite expecting what her sister had planned…

Elsa was rather bored, she was almost wishing for someone to be dumb enough to come after her. As it was, she was practicing forms with an ice sword in the upstairs room of her castle. She heard noise outside and paused in her movement, going to the balcony to look out. Someone had disturbed the guard.

Her interest piqued, she watched, spotting a dark haired boy with an odd weapon fighting the giant snow creature. She smirked. He didn’t stand a chance. The kid was scrawny and her creature would crush him.

She then saw the two extra people helping him. No. There were four people with him. And one of them was none other than her sister. Her eyes narrowed. Just a person she wanted to see. The cause of all the trouble.

After seeing the help the boy had, she wasn’t surprised when they knocked the guard into the ravine. She went back inside and started down the stairs, formulating a plan to deal with this. She’d scare them all away. Terrify them into submission. Perhaps go back to Arendelle and take back what was hers.

She hadn’t heard her hooded ‘advisor’ in a while, so he must have decided he was done with her. The doors opened, pulling the queen from her thoughts. Anna was the only one that stepped inside.

“What, not bringing in your new friends?” Elsa quipped, stepping up to the rail.

“Elsa, this place…it’s beautiful…,” Anna noted, looking around the foyer.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh…I…didn’t think it was a good idea….I mean…you kinda freaked out last time I introduced a guy to you so…”

“It wasn’t the guy, Anna,” she said darkly, resting her hands on the ice in front of her. “You really thought it was a good idea to marry a man you just met?”

“It’s true love! But I’m not here to argue about Hans…please, Elsa, let’s go home.”

“I am home. You have a fiancé waiting for you, and a harem of boys to attend to you.”

“But—” Anna started and Elsa held up a hand.

“I’m not interested. I’m sure you bumped into my sentries on your way. I know exactly what I’ve done to Arendelle.”

“Then…you’ll come thaw everything…?”

“Why should I?” she snapped. “They’ll think I’m a monster whether I ‘bring back summer’ or not.”

Abruptly, the door opened again and a snowman waddled in. Elsa blinked in surprise. She didn’t remember making that one.

“Hi! I’m Olaf! And I like—” He said brightly, but she waved a hand to silence him.

“Warm hugs. I know.” She must have built him without realizing it before she built the castle. “Get out. All of you. Before I do anything drastic.”

“Elsa, please, just—”

“Enough, Anna. I’m not going back, except to reclaim the throne. I’m sure my little army has already gotten things ready for me.”

“A-Army…?” Anna’s eyes went wide.

“Yes. Now get out. Or I’ll be inclined to lock you away for the remainder of your days when I return.”

The other four came in and Elsa sighed. Clearly it was hopeless to try and get rid of them peacefully. Perhaps if she ignored them, they’d leave. So, she turned and went upstairs. She heard her sister following.

“Elsa, please. Why are you so mad? What did I ever do to you?! What did anyone ever do to you?!” Anna caught her arm when she caught up with her. Elsa shoved her back.

“You never listened to me. I told you to slow down, jumping across the mounds of snow. I wasn’t able to catch you. You almost died because you refused to listen to me. Because of you, I was locked away from the world.” She jabbed her sister in the chest. “It’s your fault the gates were shut. Your fault I lost control. Your fault that our parents treated me like a freak and locked me away! And it’s your fault we’re here. If you’d left well enough alone and let me be, none of this would have happened!”

Anna’s expression dropped and a surge of dark pleasure ran through Elsa’s body. Finally, she’d let lose all those problems. Anna took a step towards her and Elsa, enraged that she was still even there, lifted a hand, doing exactly what she’d done as a child. She shot a burst of her magic directly into her sister’s chest.

Anna crumpled, gasping in pain. Elsa maintained her hard gaze, not fazed by the response. She then swirled a hand, forming two snow creatures that grabbed the fallen princess and carried her by the scruff down the stairs. Elsa followed.

“I suggest you all leave now, or I’ll ship you back to Arendelle in pieces,” she threatened. When the men didn’t budge, she nodded to her snow creatures. The pair picked the men up and tossed them out, chasing them back down the mountain.

Satisfied, Elsa went back upstairs. She was soon formulating a plan to take back her kingdom.