#so yeah perhaps she should go that route

[ch4singchase]

The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: Eurydice Gaumont receives gifts from her father and one of these proves invaluable as her journey intersects with fellow demigods.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and Injury, violence, grief, ophidiophobia (since the monster in this chapter is a giant snake), mentions of death, mild language

chapter one, chapter two | series masterlist

chapter 02: I Defend A Bunch Of Kids From A Giant Snake

The rhythmic tap of rain against my bus window played a lullaby, coaxing me into a swift slumber.

Abruptly, I was no longer confined to the bus; the rain had transformed into the hushed serenity of a forest. This was no typical ominous woods of a horror story; its allure lay in a distinct kind of beauty.

Drawing near a tree, my fingers traced the rough texture of its trunk, relishing the tactile sensation. The leaves gracefully danced, swaying in a tranquil wind, as if encouraging a shared nap. Smiling up at them, I entertained the whimsical idea that the tree and its surroundings comprehended my thoughts.

A soft flap of wings echoed behind me, and there it was—the moth that helped me understand where I should go earlier.

This was the same moth, its wings a rich black with subtle brown accents, patiently awaiting my presence in a circular dance.

"Hello, buddy," I greeted cautiously, extending my hand to see its reaction, "How's it going?"

Predictably, the moth remained silent. It alighted on my fingertip and then took flight, leading me along a specific path among the trees, unveiling a concealed trail through the forest. Glancing at the shadows that enveloped the moth's chosen route, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it truly wise to follow?

Without dwelling on the question, I pursued the enigmatic guide, allowing instinct to override rational contemplation.

As I ventured deeper into the forest, the canopy above formed a protective shield against the sporadic drizzle that started. The moth continued its dance ahead, weaving through the foliage with an innate knowledge of the path, as if the trees themselves whispered directions to their winged companion.

Moss-covered rocks and the scent of damp earth under foot marked my journey. The woods seemed to respond to my presence, embracing me in a mysterious symphony of rustling leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures. Nature itself had become my guide, and the moth, my silent escort through this living tapestry.

The path curved, revealing a hidden glade bathed in ethereal moonlight. In the center stood a peculiar tree, its silver bark shimmering in the celestial glow. The moth settled on a branch, and as if on cue, the air became charged with an otherworldly energy.

I looked around, confused. The wind gently brazed my cheeks, guiding some leaves with it and revealing what was hiding in the glade until now.

Moths. A bunch of moths. All joining the one guiding me into a beautiful dance.

Perhaps, when I was younger, I would be frightened, but instead, I was just stunned by it. They were gracious and in an infinity of colors, painting the air like a vivid rainbow in the middle of the night. Even some fireflies had heard their excitement and joined the party, lightning the night in a blink of an eye.

“She’s here, she’s here, she’s finally going home!” They all seemed to whisper, even if I couldn’t understand what they meant by it.

Where was here? Were they following me? Were they the ones who sent the moth to help me?

There were too many questions and no answers.

“No, no,” they all repeated to what sounded like a response, “Our friend did.”

“Yeah yeah,” others agreed, circling around me as they did so, “Your father.”

For the first time since I had seen the moth from before, I ventured to speak up.

“My father?” It was just me repeating what they had just said but, still, it had taken me some type of courage to say so, “He’s dead, how is that possible?”

“Dead?” most of them laughed, as if I had told them a joke, “That’s not possible; he is a god.”

What?

“You heard us,” it seemed like I hadn’t only questioned it in my head, “You’re the daughter of a god.”

I stood frozen for a couple of seconds. A god…?

I recalled what the Cyclops had called me, a Half-Blood. Cyclopes, chimeras, half-blood, all of them were characters that my mother had once told me were tales. Stories in Ancient Greece, myths. Nothing more but stories.

But stories don’t simply come to life. They have to have always been there.

If they were talking about gods, they could only be the Greek ones, right? The Olympian ones and so on.

“How...” I tried to ask... Anything, honestly. But I didn’t even know where I could start; in the end, I was talking to moths, what was crazier than that?

“We can’t tell you everything,” some of the moths mumbled.

“Yeah yeah, he had told us just to help you find your way but we couldn’t stop ourselves,” others complained.

“Once we heard you were still alive, we were so excited,” the moths giggled, holding back screams of joy.

“Yeah, even if one of us ended up saying something about the titan, we wanted to risk a chance,” one in a million of their siblings said, and if almost every one of them were speaking at the same time, I heard it.

Every single one, but one brought my curiosity, “Titan?”

It was all I needed to ask before they went into a deep silence.

The moths hushed as my question lingered in the night air. Their whispering dance seemed to still, and the anticipation was palpable. Then, one moth separated itself from the swirling mass and approached me.

It wasn’t the same one I was already familiar with compared to the others, but its wings fluttered with a measured elegance.

“We should not say anything about it,” the moth said, “It’s just a rumor, a cruel one”

“But the prophecy?” one of the others questioned, daring the one that was speaking for them, “The prophecy says…”

Most of them hushed the little one, giving voice to the same one of before, “As I said, it’s just a rumor. Some things are better left unknown, life must unfold naturally..”

“You said about a prophecy,” I tried to reason with it, approaching the moth, “What prophecy?”

The moth shook its little head, “You must go now, Eurydice Gaumont”

“No” I persisted, stomping my feet into the ground.

But it didn’t matter what I wanted, slowly the scenario around me started to go blurry and slowly the sound of rain tapping returned.

I protested, but the scene blurred, and before waking, I heard the words, "In shadows deep, a reaper's kid must tread..."

Then, I was back on the bus again. Alone.

I looked around, trying to look for something. But despite the sleepy sleepers who snored near me, there was nothing new after the dream. It was still dark, the first sign of sun daring to peek out of their hidden spot.

Sighing, I looked at the sky, searching for an answer. At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer came in the form of a god of the sun trying to mime what I should do next. Or sing—I didn’t know much about Greek gods at that time, but I was almost sure that the god of the sun in the stories also sang.

What was that I had heard? A reaper’s kid, right?

Now, what did that mean?

Sighing once more at the dawn of that day, every time it looked like things were making sense, my life would get twisted.

A sound of wings caught my attention when I looked at the empty seat by my side. The moth from the convenience store and my dream was my company once more. If it had a face, it would look like regret or shame.

It flapped its wings, as if to call my attention again.

“I’m seeing you, stupid,” It flapped its wings one more time, perhaps it didn’t like being called stupid, “You didn’t talk like your siblings at that forest right, I don’t remember hearing you”

And I truly didn't. For some reason, I could recognize each moth that had talked in that clearing, but none of them was the one that had been with me since Springfield.

This time, the moth flapped its wings twice.

"Alright," I scoffed, contemplating the sanity of conversing with a moth. "Enough beating around the bush; what do you want to tell me?"

Rather than flapping, the moth took flight, turning beneath my seat. I didn’t know how to curse, but what I thought was similar to a ‘what the fuck?’

Leaning forward, I peered beneath my seat, expecting to find the bags from the convenience store—snacks, sweets, water, a flashlight, and some change. Yet, unlike what I remembered, there was also a backpack.

Which, by chance, was not mine.

It reminded me of the backpacks I had seen at the store or some of the other people on that bus wearing, but I didn't have enough money to buy even a fanny pack.

Puzzled, I picked up the backpack and examined it. It seemed lost, probably belonging to another passenger. To my surprise, my name was on a sticker affixed to it.

Was it truly mine?

I opened the backpack, looking for what could be inside.

If my expectations were set on receiving a cellphone, all-star shoes, additional snacks, clothing, or perhaps a map, I would find myself in a perpetual state of hope until the arrival of the non-existent date of February 31st. Alas, none of those anticipated items were to be found.

What I found was, in fact, a leather wristband with a snap button closure, adorned with small stones. Accompanying it were a couple of coins, featuring a peculiar carving that deviated from any standard penny. Doubtingly, I reached in, confirming the wristband, coins… Plus a map.

At least that.

Exhaling deeply, I hoped my godly father, wherever he was, could hear me. Was this his gift? A questionable assistance from a man presumed dead.

Truthfully, I anticipated something more beneficial for survival, perhaps a letter explaining his whereabouts and the ongoing events. It was the least he could offer after all these years.

My mother had portrayed him as a soldier with a calm heart, unwilling to return to duty but aware of their need for a reminder of peace. How every end no matter how it began, would meet peace. She would always remind me that he would be the one to go down in a nonviolent way, with his hand laying on his chest, above his heart.

Would. She never said he was. Because he was a god, a greek god.

Knowing I was aware of his divine status, he chose to bestow upon me strange money, a wristband, and a map. Well, the map, at least, seemed somewhat helpful.

I stowed away the bags containing my purchases from Springfield into the backpack, arranging the snacks and supplies meticulously to avoid any mishaps during my travels—whether it involved catching the next bus or evading a new monster.

The coins and map found their place inside the backpack as well. However, before I could tuck away the wristband, curiosity got the better of me. It was a finely crafted leather piece, elegant and delicate.

Examining it closely, I wondered if my father had crafted it himself. The mere thought tightened my heartstrings.

Looking at the inside of the wristband, I frowned when I found something carved into the leather. Something was written into another language.

I turned the wristband and looked at it closely, words were always hard to me so if I wanted to understand what it meant, I would have to take my time.  If I intended to understand its meaning, patience would be crucial. Or so I thought.

As the letters began to weave into each other, a surprising clarity emerged. Instead of becoming a confusing jumble, they started to make sense.

Tenebris.

While it wasn't an exact match to what was written, it was undeniably the meaning it conveyed.

Latin, perhaps?

Gazing at the wristband once more, I opted not to return it to the backpack. Instead, I made the choice to wear it.

Perhaps my father had indeed crafted it. Wearing it became my silent expression of appreciation, a subtle invitation for him to emerge from his hidden shell.

Ultimately, it proved to be a beautiful wristband.

When I looked out the window again, the sun was already rising. We seemed to have arrived in New Haven, recognizable to me from a previous visit. It appeared we were near State St, very close to Yale.

There was a time when I thought I might study there, a distant dream from my younger self. Back then, despite never attending a real school, I held onto the possibility.

Revisiting the city at fourteen, a few years later, doubt crept in.

Knowing what I now knew, it wasn't hard to recognize that the odds were always against me. I never had the chance, not before, and certainly not now.

As soon as the bus stopped and the other passengers started to get off, I did the same. I picked up my backpack and put it on, following the others to the street, deciding to be the last one to get down.

For a moment, I waited a bit before finally getting off, looking inside the bus and waiting for the moth from earlier to appear and follow it. But, it didn't happen.

So, I went my way. If I remembered correctly, there shouldn't be another bus stop so far away, I could eat something on the way while I looked and hope my change would be enough for the next ticket. Or, hope they would accept my dad's weird coins.

As I strolled down the street, I seized the opportunity to approach strangers, concocting a flimsy tale about a new school on Long Island and my ailing parents unable to assist with transportation. However, as they began to provide directions, a sinking feeling crept in.

Clearly, I lacked the funds for the entire journey.

Faced with limited options, I considered potential avenues. One option involved seeking employment on the streets, donning a somber expression and appealing to tourists for financial assistance. Ironically, the more morally questionable choice proved to be the swifter means of acquiring funds.

Anyway, I tried to risk it, at least make it to the bus stop that supposedly was the cheapest one to my journey. Maybe, the driver could take some pity on me and take me to Pennsylvania. If not, I would have start to figure how to gain money for the whole trip, I wouldn’t dare to walk all the way to that fucking camp.

I walked, walked, walked and walked down State St. As I traversed the street, covering only a fraction of the distance, I encountered a Thai Restaurant. The sight of it made my stomach protest loudly; I hadn't eaten in a while, and the prolonged walking intensified my hunger.

However, there was no way I would eat in the middle of the street, under the scrutinizing gaze of strangers. That was out of the question.

Despite mustering all the courage, I hesitated to knock on the closed restaurant's door. Even if a waiter were to appear, what excuse could I possibly give for not wanting to dine outside?

So, I found an alternative. In less than a minute, I seated myself in an alley, extracting a snack from my backpack and indulging in it.

In fact, that was within question.

Ignoring the curious glances of passersby, I continued my impromptu meal. Candies followed, accompanied by sips of water. This brief moment of rest was crucial before resuming my walk under the scorching sun.

I just needed two minutes, or maybe ten… Honestly, a whole thirty minutes were enough for me to restore my energy.

As I rested, I took another look at the wristband I was wearing. The more attention I paid to it, the more I noticed a strange energy emanating from it. It was difficult to explain and even less tangible—an unknown aura surrounding something hidden inside the leather, beyond the engraved letters.

When I opened my mouth to express the feeling, the only thing that came to mind was the night of a day or two ago.

My mother was held in the air by the monster's hand, the only one watching her intensely and impatiently, while all she did instead of fighting was ask me to run. And run was what I did.

Until I heard her scream—a stunning, heart-wrenching scream that froze my feet in place, forcing me to witness her body flying to my side, blood overflowing from her mouth. Her torso seemed broken or twisted enough to inflict severe internal injuries.

Still, she had the strength to ask me to keep running. How could I? How could I run and leave her behind?

I couldn't do that. Instead, I stood beside her, ignoring the disturbing footsteps of the Cyclops approaching.

I held my mother's hands, hoping to somehow absorb her strength. Perhaps I did, for even though I didn't follow her request, it seemed to matter little to her. As if, in the end, she felt no pain.

Tears and sobs dampened my face, but I could swear she thanked me. Ridiculous, considering I should be thanking her for being an incredible mother, sacrificing everything for my safety. If only I had known sooner...

After that, everything was a blur, difficult to understand. Holding her hands, a strange sensation tingled down my spine, adrenaline coursing through my entire body. When I saw my mother attempting to say something but succumbing to exhaustion...

The Cyclops was already beside me, reaching to grab me.

Anything between that moment and the hospital was a haze. Fragments of memories. I recalled his hands trying to lift me off the ground, my palms facing his monstrously large fingers. Almost facing a 5-meter drop but feeling no pain.

When the ambulance arrived and I reached the hospital, attempting to explain what I had understood about the situation at the time, they were most surprised that I hadn't broken my legs or at least sprained an ankle. But I think my exhaustion and grief were enough for them to believe me.

I tightened my lips, holding back tears at the memory. What did my mother's death have to do with my father's gift?

Tenebris—was that really the only clue I had?

Gradually, a shift occurred in the air, and it didn't escape my notice.

Within moments, an unsettling realization dawned – something was amiss. The streets teemed with people running in the opposite direction of my intended path once I felt ready to resume my journey. Fear and confusion etched on their faces left me puzzled about the impending threat.

Swiftly, I rose, stowing away my belongings in my backpack and hoisting it onto my back. Approaching adults warned me of an out-of-control truck menacing pedestrians, urging me to find safety. Some chose the rational path, sprinting toward the police station for genuine assistance.

However, skepticism gnawed at me. It didn't ring true. Something felt off.

My eyes caught sight of the unfolding drama a few streets away, just beyond the dog park on the opposite side of my position.

Initially, I perceived three kids, one notably smaller than the others, sprinting from an unseen threat. The girl in black wielded a makeshift spear, while her companion brandished a golf club. How could such feeble weapons aid their escape from an out-of-control truck? Why weren't they going to a store or going to the sidewalk?

Then, I understood.

At first glance, the runaway vehicle resembled a refrigerated truck, careening down the road with a desperate screech. The driver, concealed behind black-tinted windows, eluded my view from this distance.

However, as I advanced, sidestepping the frantic adults, reality emerged.

It was no truck, but a snake. A giant fucking snake. There was no other way to describe it.

All the sense I was lacking suddenly decided to take control of my actions. My brain, which had previously been unable to muster the courage to stand at the door of a closed restaurant, had now regained enough courage to force my feet to run after that atrocity.

For no logical or plausible reason, from one moment to the next, my rationality  was replaced by stupidity.

The monstrous serpent pursued the kids, including the one almost the same age I was when I met Viola. It seemed absurd to consider intervening, given the potential to continue on my way or capitalize on the disturbance to pilfer from unsuspecting pockets. Yet, I couldn't turn away.

Just as I couldn't flee when my mother's cries pierced the air or when she tried to wrench me from Viola's grasp as the Chimera's stinger pierced her chest in the past.

Perhaps it was stubbornness, authentic courage, or sheer impertinence.

It remained unclear where my resolve originated as the idea of confronting a giant snake pursuing a group of children took hold.

The snake, swift and destructive, both hindered the children and itself. Exploiting that and my familiarity with the streets and their shortcuts, I discerned an opportunity to intervene.

I ran like I had rarely ran before, until the tips of the toes hurt. My sneakers had already gone belly-up to that moment, after all the running I have being doing in the past months.

I walked around the streets, without for a second taking my eyes off the scales of that thing. Entering some alleys and following the murmurs and exclamations of the children as they tried to formulate a plan, even though they were at a disadvantage.

Swallowing hard, I took advantage of the shelter outside some buildings to avoid the fragments of asphalt, cement, poles and benches flying everywhere. Gradually but quickly managing to reach that monster.

But that didn't mean I didn’t continue to run, attempting to maintain a good and safe distance between the giant snake and the peculiar trio.

"Hey, girl!" the older girl from the trio shouted, attempting to grab my attention. "Get out of here, it's not safe!"

She wore dark clothes that complemented her short, black hair and extremely light blue eyes. In addition to the makeup on her face, which was almost gone, having been worn away by time for a long time.

It didn't take long to notice her limp, a testament to an injured foot sustained during the chase – or even before.

I just smiled, hiding behind some trash cans and away from the giant snake's senses, hoping it would continue to pay all its attention to that bunch of kids. Which, to be honest, weren't much younger than me, except for the little girl.

"No, you guys go," I shouted back, "Head into the park and blend in with the crowd there. It'll be hard for them to believe that a truck would actually enter a park."

At least, that's what I thought at the time. Nowadays, I know that mundanes would still believe in the idea of an out-of-control truck wreaking havoc, even within a park.

They didn't follow my advice; instead, they halted their escape.

“Aegis,” the girl from before exclaimed, and her bracelet transformed into an incredible shield. She shielded her friends, positioning the protective barrier in front of them, waiting to see my next move. The boy behind her appeared both confused and scared, alternating his gaze between me and his friend as if awaiting an order.

At this point, I was hoping for one too. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't even have a weapon.

However, the giant snake paid no heed. I could distinctly hear its slithering and the destruction of cars in its path. I refused to let fear or my earlier stupidity show on my face.

Instead, I glanced at my wrist, the leather band my father had given me. For a moment, I wished it were a weapon, similar to the girl's shield bracelet.

Despite having the slightest idea of how to handle a weapon, I hoped for anything that could help me assist those three.

Timing couldn't have been worse for it to resurface, but as I looked at a trash can in front of me, the usual moth landed patiently, as if awaiting something.

Perhaps it shared the girl's curiosity about what I would do.

Then, I remembered—the sound of rain yesterday morning, at the funeral, and even at night on the bus, a hostage to "what ifs" that could have transpired instead of my current reality. I remembered the blood, dark red staining my hands and clothes, and how cold it felt against my skin. I didn't care, holding my mother's hands with all my might.

Just like I tried to hold Viola that day, attempting unsuccessfully to move her body away from the Chimera's sting.

The giant snake drew closer, its slithering growing clearer by the second.

Glancing at my wristband again, the carved words caught my eye.

Out of the corner, I saw the snake's scales and its wild eyes. Emerging from my hiding place, a word escaped my mouth like a battle cry before I fully comprehended my own line of reasoning.

"Tenebris!"

A blinding light filled the air, halting the giant snake and diverting its attention towards me. I closed my eyes, feeling the wristband transform within seconds.

Suddenly, something weighed down in my hand, like the sheath of a sword. Its dark sheath matched my wristband's leather, and its slightly curved blade, made of an uncanny bronze material, felt strangely familiar. Bronze. The sword's blade was made of bronze.

As quickly as the light appeared, it dissipated, replaced by a cloud of darkness covering my ankles and part of the street and alley.

The trio gaped at the spectacle. The older girl struggled to maintain her defensive stance, her injured foot hindering her movements. The younger one's wide and curious eyes betrayed a mix of fear and fascination, while the boy among them clutched his golf club with a determined expression that hinted at a desire to help.

Without giving the serpent a chance to recover from the blinding light from before, I surged forward, the newfound sword in hand. The blade cut through the air with a metallic hum, and I slashed at the serpent's scaly underbelly.

It hissed in pain, recoiling momentarily.

In the end, the wristband was a useful gift. I had to remind myself, one day, to thank my dad.

Seizing the opportunity, I circled the serpent, keeping it off balance, continuing to slash its scaly skin. It tried to knock me down with a movement of its body, but before that could happen, I dodged it, cutting its scales once again. But this time I made a point of sticking my sword in, hoping to hit some organ of his, then pulling the sword out.

The boy with black hair, recognizing an opening, sprinted to the serpent's other side, wielding his golf club like a hero facing a dragon from the tales. His fearless determination served as a distraction, affording me yet another chance to strike.

The girl, despite her injury, bravely stood her ground, using her shield to protect us and the little girl. While, said little girl, spurred by a sudden burst of courage, found a dagger in her pocket and joined the fray.

The serpent, now enraged, lunged at us with deadly precision. The older girl skillfully deflected its strikes with her shield, while the boy continued to harass it from the side. The younger girl and I coordinated our attacks, aiming for vulnerable spots between the scales.

As the battle raged on, I felt a surge of adrenaline, my movements becoming more fluid and instinctive. My sword seemed to respond to my will, enhancing my speed and strength. Each strike resonated with power, and the serpent's resistance weakened.

Finally, with a resounding clash, I drove the sword into the serpent's forehead, or what looked like its forehead. The creature convulsed, its massive form thrashing before collapsing to the ground. The dark cloud dissipated, leaving only the echoes of the intense battle.

Breathing heavily, I turned to face the trio, equally exhausted.

They, too, looked weary, particularly the girl nursing an injured leg. Despite their fatigue, they regarded me with awe, as if I had materialized from the pages of a fantastical tale. Given the circumstances, I couldn't blame them.

I didn't blame them, I really had appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm Thalia," the older girl introduced herself, leaning against a wall as her shield reverted to a bracelet. "That's Annabeth," she pointed to the younger dark-skinned girl, now displaying a hint of shyness.

"And I'm Luke," the boy interjected, assisting his friend to stand while keeping a watchful eye on me, still processing the surreal reality of our shared encounter with the monstrous serpent.

"I'm Eurydice," I replied, glancing at my sword and back at them. "It seems like you needed a little help."

“We did,” Luke agreed, looking at me from head to toe, but keeping his eyes on mine while talking to me, “And I think we still do”

Shifting his attention to his injured friend, he examined her leg, revealing a severe wound beneath her baggy jeans. Thalia attempted to whisper something to Luke, diverting his hands away from the injury.

Feeling lost and searching for a solution, my eyes wandered, and I spotted a parked car on a nearby sidewalk—doors open and windows relatively intact. It seemed like an abandoned vehicle amidst the chaos.

"I can drive," I offered, drawing the trio's attention. "I just need to know where we should go and someone who knows how to start a car without a key."

Luke sighed, helping Thalia walk toward me, followed by Annabeth.

"Lucky for you, I know both," the grin he flashed at me while uttering those words hinted at one unmistakable thing: trouble.

[arc-misadventures]

Secrets Well Kept

Jaune was having a bog-standard day until the moment his day was flipped on its head.

Literally.

Right now he was suspended in the air by his leg hanging over the roof of a building situated away from prying eyes.

He was surprised how quickly he got up here, how a single thread was holding him suspended in the air, but more importantly, that he didn’t throw up his guts in the process of getting here.

But, considering he was hanging upside down he suspected that there was still a possibility of that happening.

Peachy.

Fortuitously he wouldn’t have to worry about that for long. Hopefully.

For his captor have finally revealed themselves before him, and he only had one thing to say to them.

Jaune: If you dare say, “How’s it Yanging?” I will deliberately throw up on you.

: You wouldn’t dare!

Jaune: Unless it is by the form of a vile semi-non-lethal case of projectile vomit, how else could I, a common human possibly harm you, Spidergal.

Spidergal, the wisecracking web-slinger that swung around the city, saving people from a variety of things: Criminals committing crimes, cars speeding out of control, an introductory lesson of the ramifications of underestimating gravity. She will come in, and save everyone, be they petty criminals, or crazy men in monster suits. There were too many of those weirdos around town lately.

Jaune: Or… should I perhaps say… Yang Xiao Long…?

Spidergal stared at him for a moment before pulling off her mask, revealing a mane of golden hair, vibrant amethyst eyes, and a face that vibrated with fear.

Yang: Why?! Why did you do that?!

Jaune: Seemed pretty simple really; Your name is, Yang. I’m hanging from a… Crane? Yang, hang: Yanging. Seemed pretty simple considering you like towards making cheap puns.

Yang: it’s good I’ll give you that! But, why?!

Jaune: Why?

Yang: Yes: WHY?

Jaune: Why what?

Yang: Why didn’t you tell anyone that I was, Spidergal?!

Jaune: Are you talking about that time I caught you changing into your spider suit, and I caught you in that tantalizing lacy violet underwear?

Yang: Yes tha…?! Wait, you peaked?!

Jaune: To be fair, I couldn’t help it. You were changing your outfit at the time, and I just happened to walk on you in the process.

Yang: …

Yang: That’s fair… But, why didn’t you tell anyone?!

Jaune: Yes, I’m going to tell everyone I found out, Spidergal’s secret identity because I caught her in her underwear whilst changing into her suit. Who the devil would believe that, that could possibly happen?

Yang: Well… uhhh…? Honestly I wouldn’t believe that either.

Jaune: Precisely! Besides, I try to be a gentleman; I would have legged it out of there if it wasn’t for the fact that your friends… What are their names… Weiss, and… Blake?

Yang: Yes, their names are, Weiss, and Blake.

Jaune: Yeah, they could have caught you in that compromising position. Short of confessing you were, Spidergal, or a nudist how could you have gotten out of that?!

Yang: Definitely not the nudist route…

Jaune: Not to mention that squid guy…

Yang: Dr. Oc!

Jaune: Lame. Anyway he was on a rampage, so you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Yang: But… T-That was a month ago! Why haven’t you done anything?!

Jaune: Anything? What do you mean by that?

Yang: you could have blackmailed me into doing stuff for you, or you’ll reveal my identity! Like stealing stuff for you, o-or… m-making me doing something lewd…

As, Jaune lazily hung from the air he shot her an infuriated look that shocked her as she gazed upon a face that screamed offence.

Jaune: I’m tempted to tell everyone now for how insulted I feel that you would dare think that I would do something like that!

Yang: I’m sorry! It’s just… you know… secret identity that she has to keep secret… smoking hot babe… teenage boy…

Jaune: Get your head out of whatever gutter its in lady!

Yang: Okay! Just, why haven’t you told anyone about this, hell why didn’t you come to me about knowing this?! I’ve been on edge all month thinking you were planning something?!

Jaune: Hmm… That’s a fair concern. Well, I’ll tell you precisely what I was planning! But, first, I require a favour…

Yang recoiled in fear, her nerves were on edge as she saw the loopy smile across his face. She didn’t think he was planning anything sinister, but she couldn’t risk it.

Yang: What favour…

Jaune: Get me down from here! The blood is rushing to my head, and I think the projectile vomit is more of a warning, not a threat now!

Yang: Oh shit, yeah, sorry!

Yang quickly brought him down where, Jaune promptly laid on his back as he let his blood settle. After a few minutes he stood up, shaking the dizziness away.

Yang: You better?

Jaune: Somewhat? Imma gonna need to lie down for a while… that is so uncomfortable…

Yang: You can get used to it.

Jaune: Yeah, but I’m not… whatever it is you now are.

Yang: Hey!

Jaune: Okay… What I was planning to do was this: Nothing.

Yang: Nothing; you weren’t planning on doing anything?

Jaune: Not a gods dammed thing.

Yang: S-Seriously?

Jaune: Yep, I wasn’t planning on doing anything. You’ve been a great help to this city, it needs people like you, honest to god hero. I didn’t want to mess that up for internet clout. I mean, image how many people will be impacted if they knew you were, Spidergal. I mean… How many people could be hurt if your secret got out. And, I don’t just mean your family, but your friends, and any random schmuck on the street. Me telling who you are puts so many people at risk. I couldn’t dare dream of doing such a thing. So, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.

Yang: Oh… T-Thank you…

Yang fidgeted with her hair nervously as she looked away with a faint blush on her face. She did this because she thought the heroing was cool, and the overall right thing to do. But, to hear someone thank her for doing what she did, seeing that her being a superhero, and doing the things she does, and for who she does it for was more important than knowing who she was, meant the world to her, and really gave her that boost of confidence she needed.

Jaune: So don’t worry about it, Yang. I’ve kept this a secret for over a year now, I can keep it secret still for years yet to come.

Yang: Thanks, Jaune, I really…?! Wait… ‘Over a year now…?’ Hold up! You’ve know I was, Spidergal for over a year now?!

Jaune: Yep!

Yang: How?!

Jaune: Remember when we first met?

Yang: Uhh… We met in the hallway at school… you were helping me by putting a textbook back into my backpack?! You saw my suit when you were putting that book back?!

Jaune: Close, I saw your suit in your backpack before I put that textbook back in. Why do you think I zipped up your backpack when I put the textbook back, and gave you that warning about letting stuff fall out?

Yang: You’ve known the whole time that I was, Spidergal since our freshmen year?!

Jaune: You weren’t really famous for a while yet, but yeah, pretty much.

Yang: H-Have you been protecting my secret the whole time as well?!

Jaune: More, or less.

Yang: Oh… okay…

Jaune: So… now what?

Yang: I don’t know… You know my secret, and have been keeping my secret for over a year now… I guess we just carry on as we are?

Jaune: I can do that.

Yang: Do you… Would you mind if I came to you… To talk about all these things I’ve been through? I don’t have anyone to talk about this to, and I could really use someone to talk to… do you… Would you mind?

Jaune look at her before walking over to a vent box on the roof. The metallic box echoed as he sat upon it, he turned to her, and tapped a spot besides him. Yang smiled at him before jumping, and summersaulting in the air, and landing gracefully next to him.

Jaune: So… Lets start at the beginning shall we?

Yang: How I became, Spidergal? That’s a good place to start.

Jaune: Oh, I was going to ask how you hide all that hair under that mask of yours; like seriously, how?!

Yang laughed as she lightly punched his arm before she told him the origin story of the, Astonishing Spidergal.

And, Jaune had to admit, it was too ridiculous to be true. But, such is life: Too ridiculous to be true.

///

Ahh, finally get to play out that Spiderman idea I’ve had stuck in my head for months now!

That was fun. Well, back to the grinding stone.

Do enjoy~!

[ikeromantic]

Hmmm, how about some fun with Cyran at the Tavern with some Eggnog 😏

Oooh I do love some Cyran. This one turned out more sweet than intended, so perhaps a non-alcoholic eggnoggy for you, hm? ^_^ Approx. 900 words of our favorite non-royal (who def deserves a sprite and a route!) IkePri New Years Event story!

Cyran regarded Emma over the foam of his pint. She was here, but she wasn’t. Her gaze was lost in someplace else, wherever her thoughts had taken her. The rose liquor in front of her sat untouched, as did the food. It seemed the princes would haunt her, even beyond the palace walls.

“Hey.” He reached over and set his hand atop hers. 

Emma gave a little start and then gave him a strained smile. “Sorry. I was -”

“Thinking. Yeah. It’s okay.” He gestured to the plate in front of her. “I didn’t want your food to get cold. The fried mushrooms are only really good when they’re hot.”

“Thanks.” She speared one on the end of her fork and then popped it in her mouth. Her expression immediately brightened. “These are good!”

Cyran chuckled. “I thought you might enjoy them.” He took a sip of his beer, purposefully letting a bit of the foam get on his nose. “You should try the pickles next.”

Emma giggled. “You’ve got something on your face.” Her shoulders finally relaxed, and the tightness of her jaw eased. 

“Do I?” He wiped at his cheek, and then his chin. “Did I get it?”

“No,” her grin widened as she reached across the table and swiped at his nose. The foam hung on her fingertip and before she could pull back, Cyran grabbed her hand and put the foamy digit between his lips.

Her expression of surprise was absolutely worth the whole charade. As was the blush on her cheeks as his tongue lapped her finger before he let her go. Cyran grinned unrepentantly. “Hm. Tastes better with you. Maybe I need to season all my drinks with a bit of Emma . . .”

She laughed and pulled her hand back. “Absolutely not, you big tease.”

“Pity.” He sighed. “I can imagine how good this would taste if I licked it off your bre-”

“Ehm.” Emma’s eyes went wide. “Not good table conversation. Not even at the tavern.”

Cyran reached across the table, stroking the back of her hand. “Apologies, my lady. I get carried away at the slightest taste of you.” 

“Sometimes I think too much Clavis has rubbed off on you. Big tease.” She playfully smacked his hand. 

“Mmm, the prince wouldn’t say such a thing. He’s a gentleman, you know. He’d say . . .”

Emma giggled, “Oh! I know. He’d say, ‘As the most handsome and eligible prince in Rhodolite, you are lucky to be the toy I’m interested in.’ Er, or the - the cup!”

Cyran grinned. “That sounds about right. You make a decent impression.” His beloved was relaxed now, her worries fully behind her and he was glad to see it.

“Thanks.” She picked up one of the pickle wedges and took a bite. Her lips instantly puckered and she set it down to take a gulp of liquor. “Oh! Oh my god, Cyran! It’s spicy!”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, here,” she lifted it again and held it out to him. 

She was so adorably naive, he thought. He took the rest of the pickle wedge, and kissed her fingers. “Mmm, I think you’re spicier.”

The heat in her face went all the way to the tips of her ears. “Cyran! We’re in public!”

“Oh?” He looked around and then back at her. “I don’t think anyone’s paying attention. I could kiss a lot more of you before anyone looked.”

“Don’t you dare.” Her expression was so serious that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I would never.” Cyran settled back with another sip of his drink. “I like to keep all the best things about you to myself.”

“Best things?” She tilted her head.

He nodded. “Sure. I mean there’s so much about you that I love, things everyone can see because it’s just you. But there are other parts that are mine. Like the face you make when I kiss your neck. Or the little sound at the back of your throat when I lick your -”

“Cyran, if you keep talking about that I’m going to have to take you home.” Her lips turned down in a mock severe threat.

“Ooooh, is that a promise?” He raised his eyebrows.

She couldn’t hold back a laugh. “It is! But you promised me dancing and drinking and fun . . .”

Cyran chuckled. “I did. But who’s to say we couldn’t do all of that in your cozy bedroom?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “One track mind, hm?”

“With you? I’m afraid not.” 

“What do you mean?” She leaned forward, instantly curious. 

Cyran felt the full weight of her gaze, that insightful look she had. The one that she used when evaluating the princes. It almost made him nervous. “Just that with you, there’s so much I feel. My heart and mind overflow.” He could feel his own face get hot, his cheeks nearly the color of his hair. “Of course I want to make love to you. But I also just love to see you. To talk to you. I want to protect you, and hold you. I want to wake up every morning to see your face. Have every meal together. Watch every sunset. I want everything . . . with you. Because with you, everything is better.”

Emma was silent for a long moment, and he worried he’d said too much. Confession was a dangerous thing, afterall. But then she smiled and it was like the sunrise, he thought. Brilliant with joy. “I love you, you know that?”

“Every time you say it, it’s like the first time.” He took her hands, squeezed them gently. “I love you too.” His smile hurt his cheeks but he couldn’t stop grinning. She was just so beautiful to him.

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight~ Main Route Chapter 5

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

The next morning- When I reported yesterday’s incident, Jude had received similar information.

Victor: “A ‘circus’?...”

Jude: “The circus group seems to have disbanded a long time ago.”

Kate: “Huh!?”

Ellis: “Disbanded…?”

Jude: “The Grace Circus Troupe”

Jude: “After a successful run in London, the maggots who flock to success cheated him outta his money, put him in debt and everything went up in flames.”

Jude: “The troupe disbanded quickly.”

(Well then…)

Kate: “We heard that Mr. Bill’s missing friend had been ‘recruited’”

Kate: “It’s impossible for someone to be recruited to a circus group that’s been disbanded. The recruitment has nothing to do with the kidnapping, right?”

Ellis: “Or someone is lying and pretending to be recruiting for a circus group to lure in victims.”

Victor: “I wonder if the Grace Circus Troupe still exists behind the scenes, even if it’s outwardly disbanded.”

Victor: “Or maybe it’s the work of someone pretending to be the Grace Circus Troupe…”

Victor: “…It seems that additional investigation is needed, including in that area.”

Victor: “Jude, Ellis, Kate, thank you for the information.”

Victor: “The fair ended yesterday so please take a break for now.”

I take a deep breath as I stare at Victor’s back as he leaves, his long hair fluttering behind him.

(As Fairytale Keeper, perhaps all I’m required to do is write down the crimes of the Crown members…)

(But I wish I could help stop this incident before there are more victims.)

(--That’s right, the report!)

As a storyteller, I try to think back on whether I had witnessed a crime that I could write about.

(Hmm… Ellis and Jude didn’t commit any crimes, did they?)

(Come to think of it, I wonder if Ellis would ever commit a crime that I could write about in the report…)

(…Maybe it would be easier to write down Jude’s sins, since he’s so hated that his life is threatened.)

Jude: “What, don’t act like yer thinkin’ somethin’ rude.”

Kate: “What!? N-no I wasn’t!”

Jude: “So ya really had the courage to go on stage ‘n put yer body on the line?”

Part 2

Jude: “So ya really got the courage to go on stage ‘n put yer body on the line, do ya?”

Kate: “Why did you say that?”

Ellis: “Did you see it?”

Jude: “Yer at a fair, ya can’t help but see a big stage like that.”

Jude: “I thought she’d have refused the escort if she was a troublesome woman who was scared to death at every turn.”

Jude narrows his eyes as if he’s inspecting me again.

Jude: “Ya got guts, if ya want, you can come along.”

Kate: “Y…yes.”

(Does that mean you approve of me a little?)

Jude: “Ellis, yer the one who got her involved in the first place. Yer in charge.”

Ellis: “Yeah, I know. Good for you, Kate.”

(This was good…I guess.)

And so—I ended up spending my days following Jude and Ellis’ work.

We were attacked by business rivals and thugs once every three days,

A few days passed as I wrote in my notebook about the two people who would get revenge for even more outrageous behavior.

Then, when the “fairytale keeper’ work for the day was finished…

Ellis: “Kate, I’ve found a nice restaurant, would you like to stop off and go home?”

Ellis always called out to me.

Today it was a restaurant and yesterday I was invited to a place where I could see a beautiful sunset to eat crepes.

Kate: “Ellis, you’ve been taking me too many delicious restaurants lately…”

Ellis: “Too many…?”

Kate: “It feels like my body is getting a little bit…heavy.”

Ellis: “I don’t think it’s changed at all…but then, should we stop?”

--Choices--

Maybe not today

**2. …we can go. +4 +4 **

3. Let me think about it for a minute. (I had selected this option and forgot to get screenshots for the correct answer >n<)

Kate: “Let me think about it for a minute.

Ellis: “Sure.”

Ellis stands there, staring at me intently, like a faithful dog waiting for his master’s commands.

Kate: “I suppose we can go.”

Ellis: “Good, I thought you would like the restaurant, Kate.”

Ellis: “I wanted to take you with me.”

And spending time with Ellis wasn’t just about eating delicious food together--.

Kate: “Huh? Ellis, this book is…”

There was a book on the chair I always sat on in the common room.

Ellis: “Oh, yeah… I thought that was the one you said you wanted to read, right?”

Part 3

Ellis: “Oh, yeah… I thought that was the one you said you wanted to read, right?”

Kate: “That’s right…! Thank you… How much did it cost?”

Ellis: “Don’t worry about it, it’s a gift.”

Ellis: “You bought me some cranberry jam the other day, so I wanted to return the favor.”

Kate: “That was as thanks for the restaurant before that.”

Ellis: “Then, as a thank you for this…let me know what you think when you finish reading it.”

(I gave him cranberry jam in return for the restaurant, and he gave me this book in return…)

(And as thanks you want me to tell you what I think of this book?)

Kate: “…That’s the way you’d like me to thank you?”

Ellis: “Yeah. I like listening to you.”

Kate: “You’re saying stuff like that again…”

(Ellis is too good at spoiling me…)

--However, the one strange thing is the question that Ellis sometimes asks me.

Ellis: “Hey, Kate… How happy are you right now?”

He wants to know what makes me happy and what satisfies me.

Ellis sometimes asks strange questions like that, as if he really wants to know.

Usually when he asks me this, it’s when I’m feeling happy.

He asked the questions as if he could see right through me, as if confirming that I was happy.

It’s like an exchange between lovers… and it always makes my heart skip.

Kate: “Hmmm… I guess as happy as when I’m taking a nap on my bed in the sun on my first vacation in a while.”

I feel like I’ve gotten better at expressing ‘happiness’, probably due to always being asked this question.

Ellis: “…”

As usual, he would smile immediately after blinking.

Ellis: “…I’d like to see that. Would you like to take a nap with me next time?”

Kate: “T-together?”

Ellis: “Yeah. Think about it.”

Ellis: “Well then, Kate, see you tomorrow.”

(together…)

The kindness that Ellis showers on me is so limitless that I feel almost conceited.

But…

(Ah, I feel like I’m going to be ruined from too much pampering…)

Perhaps driven by this sense of crisis, I’ve been waking up early lately.

(I’m supposed to be doing a job that my life depends on, but I’m enjoying it more than I used to.)

(It’s all thanks to Ellis for trying to make me happy, but…)

I took the plunge and asked Jude, who happened to be reading the newspaper by himself at the early morning breakfast table.

Kate: “Is there a reason that Ellis is so particular about happiness?”

Part 4

Kate: “Is there a reason that Ellis is so particular about happiness?”

Jude: “……What, ya gonna do somethin’ if ya know?”

Kate: “Eh? No, it’s just a question.”

Kate: “He’s so kind to me that I’m starting to worry…”

What I gradually came to understand after spending time with Ellis is—

He says he ‘prioritizes what the other person wants to do, not himself.’

(As Ellis had said before.)

(It’s as if Ellis has no feelings or desires of his own.)

Kate: “As much as I think Ellis is person who genuinely enjoys the happiness of others.”

Kate: “There are bound to be things that Ellis himself wants to do or doesn’t want to do.”

Kate: “I’m a little worried that I’m not holding back.”

Jude: “…Well, look at you.”

Jude snorted a laugh while looking down at the newspaper, seemingly uninterested.

Jude: “So, ya think there’s a hidden side to his kindness, and ya can’t trust him?”

(Uh…)

Kate: “I didn’t say that.”

For a moment I was at a loss for words because I realized what Jude was saying.

Jude: “Same thing.”

Jude: “’I don’t know if I should be happy to be pampered because I can’t read his true feelings.’ Isn’t that what yer sayin’?”

(…now that you say that, it might be true.)

(I’m suspicious of Ellis…?)

He’s the type of person who would do anything to cheer me up.

Maybe I’m afraid of becoming complacent with that kindness and missing out on the feelings behind it.

Jude: “There’s no such thing as genuine kindness so leave that assumption aside.”

Jude: “I’m sure his kindness isn’t just due to simple favoritism.”

Kate: “….?”

Jude: “Well if he doesn’t have a special obsession with ya, then it’ll be fine.”

Kate: “It sounds like there are circumstances that make it not okay if he does become particularly attached…”

Jude: “Ha, yer smarter than I thought.”

Jude raised an eyebrow and continued.

Jude: “But if ya knew that much, wouldn’t a smart young lady know what to do?”

Jude looks down at the newspaper as if he didn’t feel like explaining any further.

There’s no such thing as genuine kindness.

It’s okay as long as he doesn’t get too attached.

Even knowing that, I still only have a vague idea.

That’s why I don’t know anything specific about what will happen if I stay with Ellis from now on.

(…I wonder what this pain is.)

It’s like reaching out to touch a beautiful rose and a tiny thorn stings my fingertips—my heart aches.

Ellis: “Good morning, Jude, Kate.”

(Wah!)

Kate: “Ellis! Good morning.”

My heart skipped a beat and my hand instinctively reached for the silverware on the table.

Ellis: “…Did something happen?”

Part 5

Ellis: “…Did something happen?”

His gentle colored eyes look at me with concern.

Kate: “No, it’s nothing.”

Jude: “She was just squealin’ ‘bout bein’ hungry.”

Ellis: “…I see. Then let’s eat breakfast.”

Ellis smiles and takes his seat.

(What Jude was saying earlier is… I should keep my distance so he doesn’t get seriously attached to me.)

(But… I can’t just be aloof now after he’s shown me all this kindness.)

So as usual, I smiled and spoke with him.

Kate: “Ah, I spread a lot of butter on the toast before it got cold.”

Ellis: “Mine too? … You did.”

Kate: “Thank you, as always.”

Ellis: “Thank you, Kate.”

(When Ellis smiles happily, I feel happy too.)

I’m sure no one will leave Ellis alone.

Because he’s such a wonderful person.

(I’m sure there’s no way he’ll be particularly attached to me.)

(This is just how I repay the kindness I’ve received.)

(I should spend the rest of the month trying not to be too easy on Ellis.)

I shouldn’t misjudge the sense of distance—that’s what I vowed to do as soon as I came here.

(Every time I’m treated kindly, I feel like I’m forgetting that commandment.)

Since then, his kindness has seeped into the cracks of the commandments and the distance between our hearts has narrowed…

I’m sure I’ve reached a point where I can’t turn back.

(I can’t make any more mistakes…)

Maybe, surely—I can’t make a mistake.

After finishing breakfast and Kate left to get ready to go out, Ellis looked at Jude.

Ellis: “Hey, Jude.”

Jude: “If it’s bullshit I don’t wanna hear it.”

Jude makes a noise with the newspaper as if to interrupt the voice.

Ellis: “Do you think it’s possible to make Kate the happiest she’s been in her life, within the month?”

Jude: “Dunno.”

Ellis: “If she has a moment like that, I would want to make it last forever.”

Ellis: “Because she’s such a nice person.”

Jude glanced up and saw that Ellis had a very serious expression on his face.

Jude: “…Ha, yer as crazy as ever.”

Ellis: “I don’t think so.”

Ellis: “I… I just don’t like seeing people I care about become unhappy.”

Jude: “….”

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

That night, things took a turn in the kidnapping case—

William wandered in and saw Jude and Ellis discussing the next day’s meeting,

Then he smiled at me as I took notes on the proceedings.

William: “We’ve received new information from Alfons regarding the kidnapping incidents.”

Next Chapter

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 23

The day was warm and clear.

I stood before Belial, Sen, and the carriage at the castle entrance. Sen, who was gazing up at the castle, wore a thick velvet cloak and had her hair lightly tied up.

As if to prove the description within <Winter’s Heart> was not an exaggeration, she who stood before the Northern sun was more beautiful than ever.

Even a proud prince would fall in love with her. In fact, even the prince may not be worthy of Sen.

“Thank you very much, Your Highness the Grand Duke. ……I apologize for leaving so suddenly.”

Kyle looked down at Sen with his signature reticent expression.

Despite receiving no response back, Sen smiled. Perhaps because it looked as if Kyle was supporting her in silence.

Kyle Blake was that kind of person. Contrary to his cold and blunt attitude, he was someone who truly worried and cared for his people.

Sen smiled brightly.

“I will do well no matter where I am. I will never forget the favor you have given me.”

“Good.”

Kyle replied blandly, but the short response and his gaze conveyed the feelings he had for the one who had been one of his people until now.

I did not talk with Sen. After all, we have already said what was needed to be said and heard out one another. So all we did was exchange a reassuring glance with each other one last time.

Belial stood quietly. He briefly came over to thank me for saving him during the chandelier incident, and then gave Kyle a smug look while exchanging a few words in an arrogant tone. Despite this, the atmosphere between the two was not as heavy as it had been in the study.

Kyle also didn’t seem to want to create any trouble so he held out his hand as a goodbye to Belial.

Yeah, yeah. You must be happy to take Sen with you. Don’t regret it and come crying later and live well. Don’t act rash even if you are going to take revenge, and don’t bother Kyle anymore.

I glared at Belial for him to hurry up and leave. Thankfully, he quickly left as I had hoped. Seeing the carriage move far into the distance gave me a sense of relief.

“I thought something would happen.”

“My words exactly. It’s as if I grew 10 years older…….”

“I still dream about the chandelier. Damn it…….”

Hearing that, I felt Kyle staring at me. I was glad that my back was turned towards him to not be burdened with that gaze.

However, my eyes were still fixed on the carriage. It felt strange to see the carriage move further and further away, slowly turning into a black dot. Why did it look as if it were being swallowed by the fog.

‘……Whatever. I’m just having useless worries.’

The biggest problem is me, who had to live most of the day as a hamster after all.

“You asked me to follow you to the study for a moment to check on the demonic beast, right?”

Kyle caught on my signal that I wanted us to quickly leave. I only had two hours a day. Time is gold so let’s go, Your Highness the Grand Duke.

If it was the inside of the castle, I now knew all the routes like the back of my hand. It was all thanks to my previous life’s ability to find the cafeteria no matter where I was in the company. Office workers who lack energy always do their best to walk even a single step less.

“Let’s see. This way should be the fastest?”

I walked ahead with long strides. Of course, to Kyle, this would be like a duck showing off in front of a swan, but he decided to follow me from behind.

Soon we went up the stairs to the study. Climbing up the spiral staircase, climbing up more, climbing……

……My steps began to slow down. To be more accurate, I began to slow down from the fifteenth step. It seemed even my office worker’s stamina was brought over with the ‘Summon’ skill……

“Shit. What kind of place doesn’t have an escalator…….”

“Hm?”

Kyle came close. I grumbled back.

“Well, it’s nothing special.”

You don’t even know what an escalator is. Sigh, tsk. As expected of a countryside Northern hillbilly. 

“The stairs move on its own, carrying people all the way up to the top without needing them to climb.”

“…….”

Kyle looked at me as if he had just heard the biggest joke of the century, and then picked me up.

“The stairs won’t move as they are stuck to the wall, but I understand that you are feeling tired.”

“No wait, excuse me…….”

He just picked me up like some luggage.

I glanced at Kyle once and then at the top of the stairs in the distance once, and quickly put aside my resistance. Well, we’re only going to the study so what’s the issue anyway.

While he steadily climbed the stairs, I opened the store.

[Love Love Corner~❤]

……I will never get used to this.

[Current Possessing Hearts ｜ ❤×323]

[Replica hamster to sooth the loneliness (Duration : 30 minutes) ｜ ❤×100]

Hold on, the last time I saw it was 320 hearts. Where did the other three hearts come from? Does it increase on its own too?

No matter how much it increased, it was still barely 300 hearts. To need 100 for a single replica hamster…… this would mean it would take a third of what I have now.

How expensive, really expensive.

I glared into a random space in the air.

Do something about the price.

[(〃｀ 3′〃)]

Why. Let’s be honest here, this isn’t cheap at all. And the fact that it’s specifically the replica hamster that I need right now to be so expensive.

……Huh? Wait a second.

[（*゜ー゜*）]

Don’t avoid my eyes.

I narrowed my eyes at the system and hesitantly purchased the replica hamster. Then, a system window decorated with pink hearts popped up.

[‘Replica hamster to sooth the loneliness’ has been stored into the inventory!]

‘No. That’s not it!’

You’ve got to put it in the cage, not the inventory! If I pretended to take my hand out of the pocket and say, ‘Ta-da, your hamster is here~’…… the moment I say ‘ta-da’ would be the moment when my head flies off. Do you not know of Kyle’s personality!?

[‘Replica hamster to sooth the loneliness’ has been stored into the inventory!]

How shameless.

“Haaa…….”

Kyle’s arm slightly shook as he heard my sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“It sure is hard to make a living.”

“Do you lack in money?”

“I wouldn’t say I have a lot for sure. So, in return for taking care of the demonic beast, please pay me plenty.”

As I said that, Kyle opened the door to the study with the other arm that wasn’t holding me.

“I asked for your help first, so I have no intention of providing just a small compensation for your work.”

Good. I couldn’t use my first payment since I have transmigrated, earning Miracle Points was painfully difficult, and the Love Love whatever spent one point every three minutes. I hope to earn a lot of money from now on.

“I will look forward to it.”

We stood in front of the hamster house. Naturally, he began to look for Cashew by lifting up the nest and other items in the house.

“Where did it go?”

It’s obviously not there, you dunce. Because I’m over here.

I imagined pounding myself in the heart with my fist in frustration. I can’t even tell you that I’m your pet hamster. I’d love to tell you but I can’t!

Anyway, move out of the way.

“If you search so abruptly, wouldn’t the beast be surprised and scared.”

Kyle’s hand paused in place. He then nodded in agreement.

“……That makes sense. I’m sorry.”

The apology was most likely towards Cashew. Well, Cashew was also me though.

I nudged him out of the way and carefully patted around the sawdust. How to take out the replica as discreetly as possible……

“You can just touch it. It's clean.”

He said with pride in his voice.

“Cashew potty-trained itself. Isn’t it a genius?”

……Are you crazy? If I went to the bathroom anywhere I wanted, I’d be a beast not a human…… you might be right, in your eyes I must look like a genius.

I looked at him with conflicting emotions in my heart. Kyle truly seemed happy.

“Sooner or later, it’ll start talking too. How cute and clever it is.”

[Currently Possessing Hearts ｜ ❤×224]

Wouldn’t it be strange if it started talking? No way would a demonic beast would speak like a human. My baby has already called me ‘dad’! Is this what you wanted to happen?

You must be plenty happy just thinking about it……

“You look like you’d cry in happiness if your demonic beast really started talking.”

Kyle quieted down for a moment. It seemed he was really imagining what it would be like if Cashew started talking. What was there to imagine though. Can’t you see me chattering away.

While he was occupied, I quickly took out the replica hamster.

“Ah, here it is.”

Act natural. Act natural.

I’m a magician. I was a magician in my past life. I was a magician that shocked the whole nation with a single dove, a piece of cloth, and a hat. I could definitely fool at least one Northern Grand Duke as easy as blowing my own nose.

I pretended to carefully look over the replica hamster in my hands.

‘Hmm.’

This was rather detailed. It breathed, blinked, and moved around like an actual hamster.

When I flipped the replica over to pretend to examine its stomach, Kyle muttered something strange.

“Something’s a little different…….”

I flinched for a moment. ……He knew the difference? What was different? The appearance? Or its behavior?

The replica hamster cried out a squeak. See, the replica could also squeak. Even the voice sounded the same.

However, Kyle frowned even more after hearing it.

“I wonder if it’s hurting anywhere? It’s usually not this quiet.”

“How do you know?”

The system could take note of the difference. Now, give me a thorough feedback.

Kyle’s response was unexpected.

“I know it through love.”

“Love…….”

He was completely charmed. ……I will never get used to this.

[Currently Possessing Hearts ｜ ❤×225]

Different from the Miracle Points, Hearts could increase without doing anything. Right, let’s cheer up. Who knows when another expensive item will appear.

I glanced at Kyle, turned my back slightly, and moved the replica hamster around to pretend to check on it.

“Let’s see, our cute demonic beast.”

Kyle spoke softly behind me.

“My demonic beast.”

Whatever. Stop being possessive and giving me envious looks.

“There are no problems and it is very healthy. However, its weight is a little…….”

Did I really eat that much? I’m starting to feel guilty now that I’m saying it out loud.

“He’s a bit chubby, but there shouldn’t be any problems. You can just leave it alone for now. Since it is in its growth stage, don’t feed it only vegetables. Raw food can also ruin its stomach. Surely you’re not giving it any mealworms or other live food, right? ”

Kyle flinched.

“……I heard rodents like those kinds of stuff. It can learn to hunt too.”

“How savage. Are you planning to raise and release it in the North in the future?”

I spoke harshly on purpose as I carefully placed the replica hamster back into its house.

“Don’t give it anything weird and feed it what humans would eat. Cooked beef, chicken, or something. Demonic beasts can eat oily food quite well so there is no need to feed it only boiled food. ”

That’s right. Boiled food tastes bad. Would telling him to season it be taking things too far?

“Give it some fruits too.”

Kyle listened and nodded seriously.

“Yes, then I’ll do that. But since Sen is no longer here, it would be difficult to procure all those things…….”

He glanced at me as if asking me to take care of it myself. It’s important to meet Kyle in person like this often anyways, and two hours would be more than enough each day.

I nodded with an earnest expression on my face. All for the sake of a quality life of a pet hamster.

“Thank you.”

Kyle said honestly.

“How should I say this…… Right, thanks to you, I can let go one of my worries. In return for caring for Cashew, is there anything you want?”

What is there to think about.

The price of all hard work is, of course,

“Money.”

I flipped my hand and formed a circle using my thumb and index finger as I said that.

“Money is good enough.”

“…….”

“If possible, a lot.”

Now, let’s start shaking the duke’s wallet upside down. If you want to keep a pet hamster, you have to have a lot of money, alright?

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

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[juminies]

Don't know if you've ever talked on this subject or not, but what's your interpretation on Jumin's relationship with Jaehee after her good ending? Really love how mindfully you explain Jumin's feelings and actions, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter! Especially bc her route kinda leaves many people feeling like he's an antagonist of sorts 😬 But I kinda always felt like he'd respect her a lot, especially once he sees how much passion she puts into her dream? And Jaehee shows her genuine care for Jumin, too, moreso after his infamous crash. I'm kinda babbling here, but yeah! Really curious to read up on your interpretation <3

I haven't talked about this before actually—I think there's a lotttt of nuance to it and I didn't want to be haphazard with it in case it comes across as me being over lenient with corporate heirs or whatever hahah. I promise I'm not! I just love Jumin. Also sorry this took me a while to answer, I had actually just started a game the day you sent it with the intention of doing Jaehee's route so I decided I would play before responding to ensure it was fresh in my mind. I hadn't played her route in so long, and I wanted to get the Jumin outgoing calls too!

To get into how I think he would treat her after some time passes I first want to discuss their dynamic in her route a bit, because I honestly think people are unnecessarily harsh on him because of it sometimes. I personally don't feel as if they pushed him too far into an antagonistic role, but perhaps since Cheritz weren't bringing in an outsider (à la Echo Girl or Sarah Choi) to act as the driving force it seemed that way to some people? It was inevitable given the nature of Jaehee's struggles that Jumin would be viewed as the bad guy in a sense, but I feel like it's often sort of blown out of proportion due to a misunderstanding of both Jumin's intentions and his character as a whole. He is admittedly at his worst in Jaehee's route, but people tend to brush his actions during it off as completely out of line and absurd and then go on to use it to totally mischaracterise him as someone who doesn't value his employees whatsoever or is an abusive boss. In reality though, the way he acts as a superior in general as well as given the specific circumstances is very... Jumin? in that it's logical and efficient and goal-driven. Jaehee's route is such a push and pull in the sense that the two of them clash repeatedly in a scenario where neither person is willing to compromise—for what, to each of them personally, is good reason! Jaehee is a victim of a wider system, of capitalism itself, less so than of Jumin as an individual.

On one hand, Jaehee having to give up a project she was finally actually enjoying working on would be incredibly frustrating, even without having something she actively dislikes stacked on top of it. I get why she went against Jumin's wishes of doing a bad job (why would she choose now of all times to put in half of her effort when it's something she's actually having fun with?) and I get why she used Seven's cat hotel proposal. Life can be messy like that. Sometimes you have to make a decision that has a shitty outcome for someone else for your own sake or vice versa. She should be doing something that makes her happy, and had she not gotten the encouragement to find something she loves she would have continued to feel unfulfilled for god knows how long. Plus, in regard to the coffee report she is still technically doing her job and doing it well, even if going against her boss' personal wishes in doing so. She also does use her own time to revise it in the end so Jumin can have his way (and maybe a little bit so she can use her ideas for her own place) so, to me, that says she understands where he's coming from and doesn't particularly resent him. It's a complex situation for sure, and objectively Jumin does have the upper hand even if he doesn't quite realise the extent of it. I absolutely support Jaehee in her endeavours; I love her so much and she absolutely deserves better than eternal C&R bullshit.

At the same time, Jumin's perspective does make sense if you try to understand his worldview a bit more. Jaehee is the only person at C&R he feels he can genuinely rely on, and when he's already been thrown through a loop with his father prior to her disobedience it's entirely logical that he would feel as if everyone who should be working with him is suddenly against him. Jumin has been shown before to not quite have a grasp on the social standing he holds over Jaehee, for example in this chat from deep story day 2 where he doesn't understand why she can't tell him, as he told her, that she doesn't like seeing him in chatrooms.

And I think it's genuine obliviousness as opposed to purposeful ignorance; he overlooks bigger structures at play because he legitimately values hearing the honest opinions of the people around him and expects them to have a mutual respect for him. As far as Jumin is concerned his employees should be able to come to him with honest feedback, but of course that typically isn't the case and so Jaehee can't express how she really feels to him lest she face consequences. Jumin's thought process when it comes to employment is shown to be, to put it simply, people work for money -> more work is more money -> more work is good, and it hasn't been explained to him why this isn't the case for a lot of people. Jaehee's actions register to Jumin as is simply a betrayal of his trust and respect, because he doesn't quite see the level at which he and Jaehee are on unequal footing in the first place. On top of that he is rigid in that he needs everything to be done as he expects it; he does not like sudden change and (as demonstrated in his own route) can be incredibly rattled by it if he is already otherwise stressed or overworked. Just because he stands strong for his friends does not mean he is entirely invulnerable to being overwhelmed and acting out, and while I completely agree he was on some level being selfish in regards to the cat project, at the point where Jaehee quits she has already left him with what (to Jumin) is a mess to handle essentially on his own. He is overworked too, something Jaehee admits herself, and he wanted to transfer the coffee project to another department both to make less work for the two of them and in order to not succumb to his father's lack of consideration for anyone or anything but his current partner.

Again I do not blame Jaehee for anything she did whatsoever—I think it was a good idea for her to quit and she absolutely deserves the happiness she finds in MC and their café!—but Jaehee is incredibly competent and Jumin knows that. Consequently he knows she has big boots to fill and it can't be done on a whim. I'm sure you can see why he would be incredibly frustrated. As a whole it's just a very messy situation where the two of them can't really fathom the other's perspective. Their lives and outlooks on the world are so intrinsically different at this turning point in Jaehee's life, and that's fine. Neither of them have bad intentions towards the other whatsoever.

Now to actually answer your question! Firstly I want to put out there that he says this on days nine and ten respectively:

Then I want to add that I do not think Jumin is the type to hold a grudge. He is shown frequently to take on a sort of each to their own/whatever will be will be attitude, and though this situation is something that impacts him directly I can't imagine him taking it any more personally in the long term than he would anything else. Sure he's a little hostile in her AE, but to be completely honest with you I do not think he would have gone to visit the café at all if he was completely furious and had lost all respect for Jaehee (and/or MC) after her endeavours. Again he knows that Jaehee is highly capable, hardworking, and generally a very good person, and I can't imagine that one rocky dilemma between the two of them is something that would make him bad tempered around her forever. He still clearly held her highly and has a lot of respect for her despite their differences, and she doesn't seem to have any ill will towards him either. Ultimately, as you say, he would grow to respect her passion and would hear her out on why she took the course of action she did in the end. While Jumin may not be great at putting himself in others shoes he can identify patterns well, and it lets him draw parallels between his own experiences and other people's. Once he finds the common ground (he knows how fulfilling passion projects can be, he knows how frustrating it can be to work yourself to the bone for others' sake without any real incentive, and he values real friendship an awful amount) I think he would accept it.

I actually feel like hypothetically in the long term not working together would be good for their relationship in terms of RFA too—Jaehee was only made part of the group originally because of Jumin and it meant that all of their interactions even amongst their mutual friends were that of a work relationship. We know they both dislike being in chatrooms together and dislike hearing each other talk outside of work, which was bound to have put a strain (even if very minor) on their association with RFA as an organisation. Jaehee even says herself it's like an extension of C&R for her! Dropping the working boundary between them means less tiptoeing around each other and more openness among friends, especially for Jaehee.

As for Yoosung becoming Jumin's intern/assistant, I don't think it would carry the same tone into RFA as it did with Jaehee since they are already well associated without the business relationship prior to Yoosung being hired. Sure things might be a little weird at times, but no discomfort or frustration to the same extent. It's already shown to be kind of unserious and silly, and I honestly don't think Yoosung would last long as Jumin's assistant anyway, lol.

[nullsleepy]

The Strike of a Villainess

(Rewrite)

Summary:

Marinette gets thrown into a game featuring Batman characters! But uh, did I mention that it’s an otome game? And that she was born as the villainess? Yeah… She isn’t very happy about that. But at least she’ll be able to go home after she SAVES the world… right?

RIGHT?

Chapter 1: Flash- BANG

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Ao3

A small breeze tickled the bluenette’s warm cheeks, causing a small shiver to run up her spine. Her face, though, was scrunched in concentration as she stared at the heavily marked board before her. The red string on the board was endless, connecting everything to each other in a way that signaled madness. Still, Marinette continued to stare as if it’d change, like she’s been doing for hours.

“I don’t get it.” She rubbed her aching eyes, bags adorning the bluebell gaze. Her voice was harsh and strained, so unlike her normal soft and cheery sound. “None of these people can be Hawkmoth, not one! They all have alibis or have been akumatized before.”

A groan escaped her lips as she fell back onto her rolly-chair. “I just don’t get it.”

“Perhaps you should take a break, master. Your current method doesn’t seem to be helping you with your mission,” a small, green creature flew up beside her, patting her cheek. It had an expression that reeked of concern.

“I don’t have the time for a break, Wayzz. Paris is depending on me to find Hawkmoth. I can’t do that if I spend all my free time on my butt!” Marinette stood up again, arms crossed. “I just have to continue looking over these clues. I need to have some sort of realization.”

“Master…” Wayzz looked up at the girl, letting out a small breath. She was just like his old friend, his dearest Master. Their endless determination and the way they seeked to save the day to the point of burn out, were too similar for Wayzz’s mind. “A small break never hurt anyone. It’ll help to look over the board again, with fresh eyes.”

Marinette tried to ignore the Kwami, still just staring at the board. Her fingernails dug into her arms as she contemplated his words. He wasn’t wrong, she usually was able to figure things out after taking a step back for a while. It hurt to admit, but she was just wasting time the longer she looked at the board.

“Just for a moment, then. Just a single moment.” Marinette uttered under her breath, reluctantly turning away from the board. She felt uneasy ripping her eyes away from it, but it wasn’t going to go anywhere- no new realization would happen, either. She let her arms fall loose against her sides as she slowly walked over to her beckoning bed.

“Just a moment.” Wayzz smiled, rushing towards her and landing on her head. “Perhaps you should go on your electric box? It seems to calm you down the most, from my observations.”

“Electric box? I don’t have a- my phone. You mean my phone.” Marinette gave the kwami on her head a light pat before slouching onto her bed. The sheets below her were soft and warm, entrancing her. Marinette let out a soft sigh as she leaned back, laying down on the bed. “I guess. I haven’t checked my emails yet, anyways.”

She reached into her pocket, wrestling out a pink case that held her phone. Marinette quickly input the password, her fingers typing it out of pure instinct. Looking at her notifications, Marinette noticed that all it had was an unusual email. Curious, she clicked into it.

Good evening dear Player001, PixieDust!

You have been chosen to test play our new app, Miracles Do Come True!, a romance adventure story game based on the DC Universe comics! Due to your daily activeness in our game Heart Stealer, you are the first player we have chosen for play testing! Currently, there are 21 romance routes, over 100 personalized endings, and plenty of surprises and events to keep you entertained! If you are interested, please follow the link provided to download the game! Please be aware that the link can only be used once, so sharing can be prevented.

Thank you for your continued support,

The SleepyNov Team

…what?

Marinette blinked, tilting her head and she sat back up. Heart Stealer? Miracles Do Come True? She hadn’t heard of either of these games before. Just in case, she got out of her gmail app and looked through her games, noticing something strange in Tikki’s part of her phone. It seemed like the ladybug kwami had downloaded some apps without Marinette noticing.

“Tikki!” Marinette’s exhausted voice rang through the room as she called out to her dear companion. The red kwami didn’t respond to her, not coming out of the earrings. “That kwami…”

A feeling of annoyance ran through Marinette’s body before she took in a deep breath. It's not as if the kwami gave her any trouble by downloading the games… but perhaps she could still have revenge on the kwami by playing the game without her?

A small, devious smile graced Marinette’s lips as she clicked on the link, downloading the new app. She could already imagine the kwami freaking out when she figured out Marinette took up the only save file.

Her smile remained on her lips as she quickly clicked into the app when it finished downloading. Instantly, she noticed something was off about the app, seeing as all the characters on the screen seemed oddly familiar. Where had she seen them before?

She bit her lip as she thought back, still staring at the screen. The awful color scheme of that short character was extremely familiar, like a traffic light- oh my kwami WAS THIS A BATMAN THEMED GAME?

(Author cutting in here! Please excuse any screaming you hear through the fanfic, Marinette is a tad bit obse-)

Marinette let out a squeal as her mind raced back to her childhood, where her family and her would watch the Batman movies and series nonstop, and she even had her own copies of some of the comic books somewhere in her drawers! But ever since everything had happened recently with Paris and Hawkmoth, she hadn’t had any time to think of her childhood obsession!

A bright smile made its way onto Marinette’s face as she identified each of the characters on screen. Perhaps this game would truly take her mind off of current events. It distracted her all the time throughout the bullying she went through as a child, after all.

Marinette clicked “play” and quickly got immersed in the bright colors and beautiful scenery of the game. Three routes immediately popped up after she started playing: Dick Grayson’s, Jon Kent’s, Beast Boy’s. Quite a fun mix of characters, though they all were funny and cute, at least in her opinion.

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

“Don’t scare me like that, Lilian! I thought- I thought I lost you.” Tim’s voice was hot against the brunette’s ear, causing shivers to go down her spine.

“I love you, Tim.” Lilian softly smiled up at him, a single tear going down her face. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I love you too, my Lily.” Tim embraced her, the scene around them sparkling as Lilian’s face was turned away from the screen. A picture perfect CGI and an indicator that Marinette had finally finished the last route needed to unlock Damian Wayne’s, her absolute favorite character from DC aside from Raven.

“Finally!” Marinette stretched out, smiling towards the turtle kwami who sat on her shoulder.

“Congratulations Master, you completed this one even faster than the last one!” Wayzz patted her shoulder, looking down at the game’s “finished” screen.

“It’s finally time for me to introduce you to my ultimate favorite character ever! Just wait Wayzz, I know you’ll love him!” Marinette giggled as she collected her coins and went to the non completed routes screen, pressing on Damian’s profile. “You ready to see some serious skill?”

“Of course, Master. I have complete faith in your ability.” Wayzz leaned onto her neck, watching as his Master pressed “unlock” on Damian’s route, before a bright light flashed out of the phone and covered the room.

“Wayzz!” Marinette screamed as she covered her eyes, unable to feel the bed underneath her anymore, or her little friend. The air around her seemed to whip her every other way.

“Master!” Marinette could barely make out her kwami’s scream before her eyes completely closed and she lost feeling of her body.

———————

Next

Notes: Hey :) this is cross posted on ao3 if you want to look at it there too. Anyways, I’m rewriting the og fic of this because I just didn’t like how it was going. Hope you enjoy this next version!!! Of course, I can still continue that fic if anyone is interested, since it’s pretty different from how this fic is gonna be!

[nothingbutaspaceman-writings]

It's Always Supernatural in Philadelphia (chapter 1/? WIP)

[Perhaps the dumbest project I've ever started. This idea has infested my head for over a decade. A couple years ago, I posted a pic of the cold open but recently decided to pick it back up. At about 1400 words, this is far more a proof of concept than anything. I've never written/read a fanfic. I know I need to look into posting this on a site more formatted for this stuff. I'll be mapping out the story soon so posted chapters can have some consistency. Should edit this chapter a bit too. I also haven't watched either of these shows in a long time. The story ostensibly takes place in 2016 but what's happening in either canon continuity at the time? I've no clue. AU, I guess.]

11 AM.

October 28th, 2016.

On a Friday.

Philadelphia.

Dennis made small talk while finding a clean glass.

“You guys from around here?”

“Nah. Passing through.”

“Don’t get a lot of suits in here. Don’t mind me askin’, what’s your business, fellas?”

Sam cleared his throat. “We’re, uh... P.I’s.”

“Any interesting pic-”

With a clatter, Charlie stumbles to the counter. “Dennis. It’s not dying. I keep whacking and-”

Shushing, “Did you use the spiked bat?”

Offendedly stammering, “Of course! Never seen a rat like this. And you know I’ve seen a lot-”

“Like what?” Dean interjected.

“Oh, hey guys. Green.”

_________________________________

The Gang Hunts El Chupacabra

_________________________________

Chapter 1

Charlie leads Dean toward the basement door.

“Okay, I guess it’s fair to warn you, seeing as how you’re a guest and all-”

“Warn me of what?”

“I have a shit-ton of crows down here. So, like. Please don’t spook them?” Charlie opens the door and leads the way down the stairs. “Ya know they’re more afraid of you than you are of them. Also, like, crows are super smart. I once saw one smoke a cigarette.”

“Cool. Now show me that rat.”

Blood pools in a spot a bit over a foot in diameter a couple steps away from the bottom of the stairs. Charlie is chuckling to himself repeating, “That rat, that rat, that rat” under his breath.

Dean crouches down with a flashlight to examine the blood then does a 360 checking for escape routes under pallets and cabinets. No tracks. He lightly dips his finger into the blood as he catches Charlie doing the same. “So you’re say-”

“What?”

“Did you taste the blood?”

“Nah, man. I’m just... Chewing my nails. Protein.” He stands up and puts his hands in his jacket pockets.

“This was a rat but not a rat?”

“Ima level with you,” Barely keeping his balance, Charlie hunches down and continues in a hush, “I’ve seen a lot of rats. A lot of rats in my day. But this was something else. Actually,” he claps his hands once and the crows squawk in a frenzy, “can I interest you in some Crow-Nog?”

“What?!”

Upstairs, Sam is trying to get his laptop working. He’s looking under each booth for a socket with power. The only one is being used by a couple charging their phones.

“Hey, do you guys mind if I borrow your socket for a minute? I can charge your phones on my laptop.” The young couple look across at each other waiting for the other to say something. “Alright. Um. Sir? If you wouldn’t mind swapping sides. Your lovely date would appreciate it, I’m sure.”

The young man gets up. “I’ll go order us a couple more drinks.”

“I’m okay,” Sams blurts before realizing his social faux pas. He makes eye contact with the woman and she smiles. He taps his fingers nervously and his eyes look to the table.

“Actually. I think the two of us are leaving. Come on.” The non-descript couple leaves with one rushing the other.

Dennis, watching the situation unfold, stands at the table. “Did you- was that intentional?”

“I’m sorry...”

“Dennis.”

“I’m sorry, Dennis, but I need to get to work.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Go ahead.” Dennis lingers a couple seconds longer than Sam would like but goes back behind the bar. As he does, Dean and Charlie emerge from the basement. Dean’s eyes quickly meet Sam’s and he slides into the booth.

Sam exhales, half annoyed he’s being interrupted again, half in preparation for what Dean is gonna reveal. “So what happened?”

“I think we’re on the right track. Freddy Got Fingered over there told me he has seen weird things around here. He tried to get me to drink something called Crow-Nog but there’s other witnesses.”

“Other witnesses? Friends with that guy?” Sam points to Charlie trying to open a bottle of super glue with his mouth.

“Yeah, why?” Dean returns assuredly. “Anything good in there?”

“Well, nothing to report as of yet.  I don’t know if this place even has internet.”

“Did you ask your friend over there?” Dennis is failing to look natural as he wipes and re-wipes the bar top.

“I’ll ask mine when you ask yours.” Charlie is trying to open a bottle of nail polish remover with his glued shut jaw.

“Fair enough. Didn’t we order drinks already?”

“Yeah. I’m going to let mine go. I wouldn’t drink anything here even if it was out of a bottle.”

“What do you mean? Alcohol kills all the germs.” Dean smirks. “Yo! Two beers. Your worst and your best.”

With a thumbs up, “You got it.” Dennis turns to the taps and rambles to himself unsure of how to fulfill the request. In one pint glass, he pours a pungent lager. He once read that good lager smells like rotten egg so, even if it is spoiled, he has the plausible deniability of it being fancy. “Charlie.”

Charlie is already right behind him, wiping nail polish remover from his lips in embarrassment.

“I’m not even going to ask. Charlie, what’s the best beer here?”

“Crow-Nog, duh, Dennis.”

“I’m not!” Hushing himself, “I’m not giving anybody your bird moonshine, okay?”

“Then whatever is in that third tap. I’ve been,” his eyes dart back and forth, “metaphorically sucking the spout.”

Another pint glass is grabbed and filled with a brick red tinted liquid. “This better be beer.” Dennis places the two glasses on the table. The lager in front of Dean. Charlie’s pick spilling over onto Sam’s laptop.

“They’re both for me, buddy.” The lager is already half-drank before the final syllable escapes.

“Sorry about my janitor over there. He can get a wee excited for guests.” They all look at Charlie as he licks a nail polish brush. “Let’s ignore him. So what are you guys working on?”

“Mr...”

“Reynolds.”

“Mr. Reynolds,” his empty pint is scooted towards the wall as he lowers his voice, “have you seen anything out of the ordinary around here.”

“Out of the ordinary,” a million flashbacks, “around here?”

“Yeah. You know. Strange. Unnatural.”

Ready to follow their monsters-are-real scripts, Sam and Dean both focus on Dennis

“Did Charlie put you up to this?” Dennis gulps and flatly repeats, “Did Charlie put you up to this, huh?” He chuckles, puts his hands on his waist, and looks at the ground before looking through Dean. “Wow. Okay guys. How about you finish your drinks and,” he clicks his tongue, “hit the old dusty trail.”

“We’re being serious.”

“So am I. It was nice, guys.” Walking away, Dennis scolds Charlie for eating nail polish. As Dean begins to drink the mystery drink, “And quit putting your whole mouth on the beer taps. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Deans spits out his drink and Sam laughs. “Let’s get out of here, Sammy.”

Mac holds the door as the brothers exit. He lets them by, straightens his posture, and sizes them up.

“Who were those guys?”

“Assholes,” replied Dennis.

“I thought they were kinda cool. Didn’t wanna try my nog but that’s okay. Can’t all be winners.”

“Dude, we need to move the nog.”

“Man, I know. Those guys were cool too. They were also super packing.”

Mac’s eyes widened. “No shit?”

“Definitely. The shorter guy,” he whistles, “was in the basement with me.”

“And?”

“And what. He had ‘I’m packing’ energy, dude!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dennis interrupts, pouring a red beer for Mac to get him to sit down, “Maybe that guy you talked with. Tall guy, nah. Don’t buy it.”

“I do. I buy it, Charlie. I was checking those- I was,” Mac takes a quick sip, “ assessing those guys. Tall guy. I bet he’s packing. I mean, did you see his hands?”

“Oh yeah. I was glad he stayed up here with Dennis.”

“Why were you in the basement together? Is it about the crows?”

“The murder?”

“The what?!” Almost spilling his drink, Mac stumbles to his feet. “I actually. I just remembered a thing. I gotta go.” Mac leaves the bar.

“You gonna finish that?”

“Mac’s beer that is infested with whatever diseases hide in your saliva glands?”

“Yeah.”

“Take it.”

Charlie pulls a plastic mini-bottle out of his jacket and pours the white substance into the beer. “I’ll be in the basement. Call me up if Frank comes by, yeah?”

[beebotea]

hey, are you listening? — part 05

pairing : college au!xiao x f!reader . summary : in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ . cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns .

[prev] [masterlist] [next]

05. term project reveal

act 1, scene 1

—

act 2, scene 1

—

act 2, scene 2

In the last 15 minutes of class, the instructor gave time for the partners to briefly meet up and coordinate with each other.

Making her way to the last few rows of seats at the back of the lecture room, Y/N watched as her friends found their ways to their project partners as well. Some groups meeting off to the side of the class and others talking outside of the room.

She spotted her project mate sitting in his usual spot in the back corner. Where he was usually surrounded by his other friends, now he sat alone, the seats beside him empty save for the scattered bags and sweaters they left behind.

Y/N found Xiao, looking dead at his desk. His arms folded under his head, hoodie up.

“Xiao?”

He stirred a little and made a small noise. Y/N took it as a signal that he was paying listening.

His head remained on the desk as she continued to speak. Perhaps he was just too tired to look up. “So I guess for our project we’ll be researching and presenting about the Ethics of Life and Business… it’s kind of a vague topic but perhaps we can talk about the differences between everyday ethics and business ethics and how there are loopholes and such that people may abuse? What do you think?”

No response.

“Uh… Xiao?” Y/N waited a moment to gauge the situation before ultimately deciding to shake him by the shoulder a little. “Hey, are you listening?”

He shot up the moment her hand made contact. He looked up at her, rubbing away the sleepiness from his eyes. He pulled down his hood to run his hand through his hair, revealing the noise cancelling headphones that he had been wearing during the whole conversation.

After a small stretch, he seemed to realize his surroundings as his eyes widened upon seeing Y/N standing in front of him. He quickly removed his headphones and mumbled a quick apology, looking away from her to hide his slight flush of embarrassment.

“Oh… it’s okay. I’m guessing you didn’t hear a word I said then, huh?” He shook his head in response.

“We’re partners for the term project,” Y/N pointed at the projector screen, showing him the assigned topics and partners for the half semester long assignment.

“Oh, I see. Business and Life ethics… cool.”

“What do you think we should research about then? The topic is kind of vague and the professor didn’t put many guidelines.”

He shrugged.

Y/N pursed her lips together in thought before suggesting what she had said before he woke up. Xiao agreed that looking at the differences and loopholes in this topic would probably be the most interesting route to research.

“Okay, great! When should we meet up to work? I don’t have any classes after this if you wanna go to the library today after lunch.” She was doing her absolute best to stay positive during this conversation.

The feeling of distance and absolute awkwardness between them kept growing and gnawing at her as the chat went on. It didn’t exactly help that Xiao wasn’t the most talkative or expressive person either…

“I can’t do today, sorry. The guys and I have band practice on Tuesdays.”

“Oh, then what about tomorrow? I only have one class in the morning from 9 a.m. to 10 a.m.”

“Sure. We can meet up at 1 p.m.”

“Okay, great! See you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, cool. See you.”

Y/N smiled at him and waved before turning around to join her friends leaving the lecture hall.

Behind Xiao, he could hear the snickers of his friends.

“Looks like our prof is better at this wingman stuff than us, huh.” Aether mused as Xiao turned to glare at the boys.

“It’s just a project.” The teal haired boy argued.

“Yeah, well you could always use it to your advantage as an excuse to get to know her better or ask her out.” Gorou shrugged, “at least that’s what I’d do.”

—

bonus !

—

taglist  — comment to be added!

@ashhh-14​ @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream​ @yuminako​​

—

[jokertrap-ran]

BAD MEDICINE ~Infectious teachers~ [PC GAME] Kashu Remu (Chemistry) Route Translations (Part 11)

MC’s name is retained as the original MC name Kawana Hina.

* Words within ‘   ‘ are spoken in English – *Spoiler free : Translations under cut! *T/N: So... its been 7 years since I started this? Wow. This project is old, this blog is old, I am old-

Prologue / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11

Hina: I’m done preparing for tomorrow’s classes, and all my homework’s done too. I didn’t forget anything, did I?

Hina: Hmm… That should be all. I should turn in early so that I’m ready to face all the challenges ahead tomorrow.

Hina: (Haa… I wouldn’t be surprised if Kashu-sensei came up with something weird again tomorrow…)

Hina: (Or maybe it’s even odder if nothing strange were to happen.)

Hina: …I feel like I’ve gotten used to it, actually. Who knows if that’s actually a good thing though…

Hina: Huh? An Incoming call this late into the night? Wonder who?

Hina: And it’s from an unknown number…

Hina: (It’s not someone I know, but unknown numbers don’t usually call at this hour either.)

Hina: Hello? Um, who is this speaking…?

Kashu: …Yo.

Hina: That voice… K-Kashu-sensei!? Err, why do you have my number?

Kashu: I’m a teacher, you know?

Hina: So I’m aware, but that’s besides the matter. Can I help you with something? You don’t sound too good…

Kashu: Ahaha, really? I see. You can tell, huh…

Hina: Kashu-sensei…? Did something happen?

Kashu: Yeah… guess it doesn’t work out after all. I don’t know why, though.

Hina: Um… sensei? What exactly do you mean by that…?

Kashu: The medicine, of course.

Hina: Oh…

Kashu: Ahaha, do you still remember what I’m talking about?

Hina: Of course I do. There’s no way I could ever forget.

Hina: (But even I know that he can’t possibly make a medicine that’s capable of reviving the dead.)

Hina: (I’m sure he knows that too, but why’s he still persisting till now…?)

Kashu: I’m giving up on it.

Hina: What?

Kashu: I mean, it’s all useless isn’t it? She won’t come back no matter what I do.

Kashu: You must think so too, don’t you?

Hina: Sensei…

Kashu: Thank you, for holding back on my account. I’m sure you must have wanted to say it.

Kashu: And thank you for playing along with me…

Hina: Erm…?

Hina: (He’s acting strangely… and he sounds really sad…)

Kashu: Also, I realized something..

Kashu: If I can’t revive her, then all I have to do is to join her on the other side.

Hina: W-What!? But she’s already…

Kashu: Yup, so all I have to do is to die. Simple, isn’t it?

Hina: What are you talking about!? You can’t do that! That’s stupid!

Kashu: ……

Kashu: Come on now, don’t say that.

Kashu: I mean… that’s the last option I have. It’s so lonely living alone like this…

Hina: Kashu-sensei! Wait… Hang on!

Kashu: For my last hoorah, perhaps the school would be best. I’m thinking of jumping off the roof there.

Kashu: Hehe, this school was pretty fun while it lasted.

Hina: Hey! Listen to me!

Hina: If it really was that fun, then wouldn’t you want to live!? You can still turn around now!

Kashu: It was fun, but also lonely. It is so lonely being all by your lonesome, you know?

Hina: You’re not alone! You know that, don’t you!?

Hina: Please, just consider those around you! Don’t say that you want to die…

Kashu: I’ve already made my decision.

Hina: You can’t do it! Sensei!

Kashu: I’m really happy that you helped me out with all my experiments.

Kashu: I really did feel a little less lonely during those times. I even thought that perhaps I wasn’t that alone in this world.

Kashu: So, thank you.

Hina: !!!

Hina: Sensei? Sensei! Kashu-sensei!? He hung up on me!!!

Hina: (I can’t just sit back and do nothing… I need to get to school and stop him!)

Mother: Eh!? W-Where are you going in the middle of the night!?

Hina: School! I need to get there, now!!!

Mother: Huh? Take care on your way there, you hear me!?

———————————————

Hina: Haa, haa, haah…!

Hina: (Since when was the school this far away!?)

Hina: (I don’t know if I’ll make it at this rate… Please let me be there in time!)

Hina: ……!?

Hina: D-Don’t tell me…

Hina: (I’ve gotta hurry!!!)

[dangerously-human]

Should I legitimately consider pursuing a job as a biostatistician with my current employer? I don't strictly have to have a master's degree to do it, so I could apply before I graduate. I'm qualified, I'd learn cool things, and I think I could do well, though the learning curve would surely be steep. The thing is that really, I don't want to change jobs, I want to stay where I am and just shift my responsibilities. But what I'm hearing right now is my uber-bosses won't consider that change for as long as I'm filling the hole they need filled, even though they know I'm unhappy with that. I can't (easily) leave to go elsewhere before I graduate and then complete a few months more to pay back my tuition benefit, but there's nothing stopping me from trying to move elsewhere within the organization - except burning bridges (and the fact that the DIY job description gives me exactly what I want and lets me stay in my area of particular expertise, plus gives me a lot more control over what work I do if we go the "free agent" route most recently proposed). So I guess the real question is not should I apply for the biostatistician job, but should I tell my supervising director I'm considering it, and see if that gives me leverage. I think he's invested enough in my professional growth as an individual that just bringing that up won't instantly burn a bridge, and it's about a 60-40 split whether he'll give me useful advice on internal mobility that I could act on if that's the choice I made. Perhaps I should run this by my primary collaborator first for her impressions, though, because she's not my boss in any sense and is arguably the most invested in my growth while also having no official skin in the game. Actually, yeah, I'm glad I typed out this whole post; I've talked myself into that as my next step, and will ask her for advice when we meet tomorrow.

(I mean... even if it feels big, considering changing jobs without changing employers is at least more realistic than getting a job in Ireland like I've been endlessly researching lately, right?)

[randomwords247]

Hey so I digitalised the Watcher!Rek artwork :). He's watching.... always watching...

@bantaro-bird helped out with colours! She coloured my lineart and showed it me and I was like DANG THATS EPIC COLOURING IMMA STEAL THAT and so I based my colours off what she did B) she also had the idea of the watcher symbol instead of a crystal ball thing and I was like thats epic. Heck yeah

I spent like. Perhaps too long on this but I had a lot of fun :)

I wanted to go to a more cryptid route for watcher!rek hence the cryptid eyes mouth ears and horns :) also watcher wings are a staple fr. It was very fun to figure out and I really like how the design turned out! Hope you enjoy :D

(also with this I should be close to actually putting together a commission sheet, so look out for that 👀)

[spnexploration]

Collared part 4

Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually

Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Episode summary: Dean learns about being a slave's master.

Warnings: Slavery, some references to past mistreatment

Word count: 1.6k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 3 <- -> Part 5

“Ok,” your master said to you, sounding uncomfortable. You continued to kneel, looking at the floor and awaiting your master’s orders. “So, uh, have that shower and then you can put these clothes on. Sorry that they'll be a bit big but they're the smallest we've got. I'll wait just outside, but uh the door probably won't close properly since Sam kicked it open. We’ll have to fix that. Ok, um, any questions?”

“No, sir.” You knew better than to question your master. Your last mistress had instilled that lesson well.

Trench coat and Sam had already left the room, and your master walked to the door and pulled it closed behind him.

You stood up, hesitantly looking around. It was far nicer and more spacious than any bathroom you could remember being in. You'd never been given privacy either, usually just hosed off and put back in your room.

You heard your master shuffle his feet outside the room. Right, you'd be in trouble if you took too long, you reminded yourself. You quickly stripped your tattered, wet, bloody and vomited on clothes and stepped into the shower.

You turned the tap to cold and braced yourself against the pain and shock of the water. Luxuries are not for slaves, you remembered that lesson well too. You shivered as you hastily scrubbed your body, and felt relief as you turned off the water.

Your master hadn’t mentioned a towel so you put on the clothes he’d provided, as per his order, while you were still dripping wet. You padded over to the door and pulled it open, dropping your eyes to the floor.

“Hey sweethea-” your master started to say as he turned around, but seemed to stop once he was looking at you. “Why are you wet?”

Crap, you'd done the wrong thing. “I'm sorry, sir.”

He touched your arm, “You're freezing!”

That wasn't a question, no response necessary.

He ran his hand through his hair. “This is my fault,” he muttered.

“OK, sorry Y/N,” he said in a normal volume again, “I should have been clearer. I want you to go and have another shower to warm up. I want you to make it as warm or hot as you would like. You can use any of the soaps, shampoo, conditioner, whatever else Sammy has in there, whatever you want. Then you can use as many towels as you'd like and dry yourself off. Then get dressed. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” What the hell?! You'd been expecting blows, not a hot shower. Perhaps he wanted to lull you into a false sense of security? It made you nervous.

You returned to the bathroom.

---

Once you were cleaned and dried to your master’s satisfaction, you followed him to the kitchen. He didn't tell you what to do once you got there, so you took the safe route of going to your knees next to the end of the bench and looking at the floor.

You heard a small sigh from him. Damn, this was wrong too. It was so hard to work out what he wanted, and you weren't used to having to second guess people. Your mistress, the handlers and even most of the clients had always been very clear.

“What do you want to eat?” Your master asked you.

“I eat at the pleasure of my master.”

“Uh, yeah. Ok, well, my pleasure right now is that I’d like you to tell me what you like.”

“I have no preference but what my master provides.”

Your master groaned. You flinched.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said hastily. Great, now you'd upset him.

“I'm sorry, sir. I will not do it again.”

“No, no, my fault. Um, ok. Do you eat eggs?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a slight pause. “You would say that to any food I mentioned, wouldn't you?”

“Yes, sir.”

You stayed kneeling while your master cooked. Every so often you snuck a glance up at him, which you were able to do because he hadn't specifically ordered you into this position. If he had, you'd have had no choice but to obey, thanks to your collar.

It was strange to see a master cooking. Other slaves had done that with your mistress, not that you'd ever had much interaction with them or sat in the kitchen. But you'd seen them once or twice.

He carried over a plate to the table and sat down. You stayed where you were.

“Uh, come here, please,” he said. You hastily crossed to him, kneeling next to his seat.

“Please sit,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.

That was an order, but it clashed with one of your fundamental orders. You started to shake.

“Furniture is not for slaves, furniture is not for slaves, furniture is not for slaves,” you started to chant in a whisper. You clutched your head, the pain of the two orders clashing feeling like you are being ripped apart.

“Stop! Stop!” Your master yelled, panic in his voice. “Uh, belay that order! Don't worry about it! You can keep kneeling!”

You stopped chanting and slowly brought your hands away from your head. The pain was dissipating. Your master put his hands on your head, gently stroking your hair. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry sweetheart,” he gushed.

Sam came running into the room, “What happened?”

“Don't tell her to sit on the furniture,” your master said.

“I’m- I'm sorry, sir,” you said shakily.

“Not your fault,” your master said. “That's on me.”

You took some deep breaths. One of your master’s hands was cupping your cheek and again you felt yourself leaning into it. It was strange, normally you wanted to cringe away from the touch of clients, but then again, normally their touch was anything but gentle.

“I've got an idea,” Sam said and left the room.

“Ok, I think you do need some food,” your master said to you. “Umm, how about I put your plate on this chair,” he moved it as he spoke, “and then you can keep kneeling but you can reach it. That ok?”

“Yes, sir.”

You stayed still.

“Oh, umm, please eat. Only as much as you want to. And as slow as you want to. Umm, yep,” your master said awkwardly.

You had eaten your first forkfull of scrambled eggs when Sam returned, holding a cushion.

“You would kneel on whatever the floor was, right Y/N?” Your master asked you.

“Yes, sir.”

“So sometimes it's wood or tiles or concrete or... carpet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And that's not using furniture, is it?”

“No, sir.”

“Right, so I don't think a cushion is furniture either. It's just how I've chosen to decorate my floor. So if I put a cushion where you need to kneel, you’re just kneeling on the floor, same as if I'd chosen to put carpet there instead.”

It didn't ...feel... wrong. You gave a tiny nod.

“Stand up, Y/N,” your master ordered. Sam put the cushion down where you'd been kneeling. “Kneel here,” he pointed. You did so, the collar forcing your obedience. The cushion felt far nicer under your knees.

You could hear the smile in your master’s voice as he said, “Continue eating, Y/N, as much as you'd like.”

---

Your master took you to a bedroom. Finally, something you knew how to do.

“I'll just leave you for a minute to get ready for bed,” he said to you and stepped out of the room.

You quickly took off your clothes and climbed onto the bed, arranging yourself on all fours, facing your naked butt at the door. This didn't count as you using the furniture, clients could take you on a bed if they wanted to and your master had clearly said it.

Your master knocked on the door, “You ready, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

He opened the door. You were facing away so you couldn't see his face, but you heard him stutter and turn back to the door. “Oh, God,” he muttered.

“Umm, Y/N, please get dressed in whatever clothes you would like to wear to go to sleep. We're, umm, we're not going to have sex.” He fled the room.

You were in trouble again.  Even his orders didn't mean proper things!

You put the oversized trackies and t-shirt you had on before back on, then knelt by the end of the bed. Your master knocked again and came back in.

“Sorry I umm, wasn't clear earlier,” your master said awkwardly. “You don't have to sleep with anyone, ever, while you're here.”

That didn't make any sense. Why else would he want you as his slave?

“Can you sleep in the bed?”

That was an easy question, “No, sir.”

“Ok, where do you normally sleep?”

“On the floor, sir.” He was testing you, you thought, checking you knew how to behave. Perhaps he wanted to see if you were a good slave before using you?

“Alright, let's take the blanket and pillows off the bed and you can arrange them how you want.”

“I do not require luxuries, sir,” you said hesitantly. You didn't want to have to earn them later.

“They're not luxuries, I'm just decorating my floor again,” he said in a tone that brokered no arguments. You swallowed and accepted your fate, adding to your mental tally of what you would have to earn back.

Once your master had arranged a bed for you on the floor and haltingly told you to go to sleep, but you could get up whenever you wanted and the toilet was down the hall and rambled about 5 other “if you want to” instructions, he left.

This was the strangest place you'd ever been.

---

“Please tell me you've found something about the curse,” Dean said to Sam as he walked in to the library. “I am not cut out for this ‘being a master’ shit.”

He paused.

“Or at least, not when they can't consent,” he said with a smirk.

Tag list:

@malindacath

@stoneyggirl2

@iprobablyshipit91

@minty-fresh-donkey

@tiggytaylor

@ellie-andthemachine

@muhahaha303

@nameslessismypricetowhateverend

@siospins2

@mrswhozeewhatsis

[ethereance]

Thoughts on an au where Earth also has alchemy but it's kinda like one in fma and Lance did the Human Transmutation?? (I don't think kid!Lance would initially be interested in studying nerd shit alchemy but if it's to bring someone he loves? Then yeah. This guy was in show equivalent of nasa/stem program so he can be a pilot, I believe in him)

Very very very much like where you’re going with this Anon. Because oh boy does this give one the opportunity to test Lance to his limits *insert one evil cackle here.* (As someone who loves fmab, but especially fma03 and what that particular version did with its homunculus, *fma spoilers here* and their relationship with identity, and the identity imposed upon them, the very essence of ‘came back wrong’ this could lead to a horrible no good very bad time for Lance should I start writing anything remotely like this. Which I’ve now begun. Whoops.)

I have many thoughts :))) Probably focused way too much on the fma alchemy part, but brace yourself.

So. Humans have alchemy. Maybe they’re naturally born with this ability, perhaps many years ago ancient Alteans arrived in hiding and brought the practice of alchemy with them. It’s just a thing that’s always existed.

Pidge and Matt are the obvious to go for if you follow the fma storyline. They’re the kid geniuses and honestly that sounds like an interesting fic following the pair of them resurrecting their Dad (or perhaps Pidge trying to and Matt only catches on far too late). But. But. But Lance going f*** it we ball and messing around with those mystic mumbo jumbo dark forces he doesn’t get, learning to understand them because he cannot handle a reality where this dead person isn’t around? Yes please. I write self indulgently.

You get it! Lance got into fighter pilot class because there was a spot, meaning he would probably have been the top of cargo class, and you don’t get there without at least trying. Yeah, he’d call it ‘nerdy’, but this guy will put in the effort if it comes to it, and who’s he fooling, he was very much enjoying himself in that M&m episode.

So, if the situation arises, if he loses someone he cares about, and he’s in a world where the solution is there seemingly in the palm of his hand (human transmutation)? Yeah, he’ll put in the hard work, and wouldn’t think twice about the repercussions on him if it means whoever he’s doing this for will be okay. Is it selfish? Is it selfless? Who can say? Lance cares so much for his family, something happening to them would devastate him, so in this kind of au they’ll probably be at the top of the list of resurrection. So I’m thinking:

-His mother (his family is in shambles and a kid Lance wants things to go back to normal). Totally not ripping off fma with this suggestion.

-Rachel (they’re the closest in age, she has a matching jacket with him/has worn a spare version of his jacket so I’m gonna use what little breadcrumbs I have to presume she’s the sibling closest to him. I also like the probably refuted by canon headcanon of them being twins, and how upon returning to earth those two would deal with this new 3 year age gap between them. The ramifications of that time skip and Lance trying to find his own place in his family again just seems interesting to explore but I digress).

-Veronica (have more of a feel for her personality as opposed to characters like Rachel, Marco, and Luis. And Lance was pretty protective of her, despite Veronica being older than him).

-Hunk (could even go the childhood friends route with them). There’s nothing Lance wouldn’t do for his friends, he values them so much.

-Allura if it’s set around the same time as canon is (I’m an allurancer at heart and can’t help adding her to the list. Besides, allura has healed/resurrected him in canon during omega shield. Lance would want to give back, and would probably rationalise it as something she would do, sacrificing herself for someone else. Mr I can’t imagine this world without you is going to great lengths to get her the heck back, even at the cost of himself aka the fic I’m currently writing now Anon what have you done).

-or to pull plots up from canon, it could be Shiro and this is how Kuron (homunculus Shiro) is born, but I kinda see Keith being the one more likely to pull off the human transmutation for this. Maybe they work together on this? It would mean that Shiro and Lance would have to have a stronger bond than they did in canon, but anything is possible in an au (not that they didn’t have small moments, but they weren’t a focus like Keith and Shiro were).

Of course, it doesn’t go to plan at all. Whatsoever.

To what lengths would he go for sacrifice?

It’s all about that equivalent exchange.

-an arm and a leg because this gives him the perfect coping with humour ™ opportunity to say it only cost him an arm and a leg. Plus, perhaps Lance brought this person back out of guilt, ‘if I had been fast enough—‘. His inaction to save them the first time now leaves him without an arm, or without a leg. Or both (he’s not tethering anyone’s soul to armour here, just depends on how much flesh is taken from him to recreate the deceased’s body). Also, also. It correlates to his two positions on Voltron. The very same arm he was, the very same leg.

Also. It’s about those parallels of being just that little bit more like his hero (Shiro) but knowing that the loss of his arm was self inflicted, making him feel like a false hero, a presense, and he couldn’t feel further away from Shiro. He failed to save this person.

-memories of him in the mind of people he cares about (If you’re feeling super mean).

-His memories of the deceased. Now he wants to know why exactly he risked so much to bring back this unknown person back. What do they mean to him?

-him unknowingly giving up his soul so they can have one. And they’re fine and Lance feels like he was the one who came back wrong ™ there is something missing in him and he doesn’t get it.

And then whoever it is comes back.

They get thrown in a healing pod. Lance probably gets berated by whoever is there (Shiro, his mother, Coran) for doing so reckless, so risky without telling anyone. He knew they’d talk him out of this, but it all worked out right? Right?

But this person isn’t right.

Something about their skin is like a reanimated corpse’. It’s a little too pale. And their eyes are a little too dead. But it can all go by the wayside, they can ignore it. Being gone for so long can’t have been easy.

Said person resents who Lance made them be.

He didn’t bring them back at all.

And so we go the route of them having been brought back but is it really them? Or someone else who has been left with Lance’s memory of who they’re meant to be?

A small part of this person cares for Lance as they did, as a son/friend/sibling/significant other, and they hate that.

Maybe they require quintessence to keep them alive. And oh no. Not this again.

Just. Lance learning alchemy for the purpose of saving someone only he doesn’t save them at all. He risks it all to create a person that never asked to exist, that never asked to be who he wants them to be.

He didn’t make them right.

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 2/18 “Back In The Saddle” (more glorious filler) Part 2

Wow, Netflix really borked the captions in this scene.

Thinking about how the Chilton Crew wants Lorelai to come to the school and advise their business class, and then I remembered that in a season 3 episode (the one where Lane dyes her hair purple) she does just that at Stars Hollow High, but it didn't exactly go well for her, because instead of asking her questions about what it's like to run an inn, the students were more interested in why 16 years earlier she let Crustypher Hayden boink her on her parents' balcony in the middle of the winter. Then an army of PTA Karens (or Debbies, in that case) approach her outside the school and the word "Condoms" is thrown about, absolutely scandalous. So perhaps she's better off giving this one to Richard.

I swear to gawd, Lorelai, you better give my boy Michel a day off with no questions asked, after all the times you abandoned your post in the last few weeks to help Lucas and left poor Michel to pick up your shifts. She thankfully doesn't give him any guff. We then learn he is (apparently?) excited about his mother coming to visit, while Sookie and Lorelai try to remedy Sookie's misprinted wedding invitations by screaming at some poor underpaid customer service agent who is probably Kirk. Glorious, pointless filler!

A few moments later, Lorelai declines Rory's invitation to Business Advise her and she suggests she asked Richard instead, so Rory goes and visits Richard and he...also declines. Emily gets wind of this declination and gives Richard the business about letting Rory down, and they get into a spat over it. Spoiler alert: He eventually changes his mind.

The sign reads as follows: LIBERTY BELL: The bell in Stars Hollow was cast in 1780 to celebrate the 1st anniversary of the town. The bell cracked the first time it was rung and weighed 2000 pounds. The strike of the bell is E-Flat. On June 6, 1944, when allied forces landed in France, the sound of the bell was broadcast to all parts of the country. Guess that's just another thing they're trying to erase from American history textbooks! Seeing as it's directly next to the gazebo and would be hard to miss, I don't think we ever see this sign again and I don't know why we're seeing it now. Also, there is no actual bell to be seen anywhere in the vicinity. Lane is babbling to Rory about something and I have no clue what she's on about. I had to rewind. Okay, it sounds like she took one of those "Career aptitude" tests at school and it told her she should pursue a career in sales and now she's freaking out over it. R: "Lane, in ten years we'll be having lunch in Paris not discussing if you made quota." Rory is really hoping that in ten years Paris IS her lunch. I'm dirty.

INCOMING!!!!!

The look on Rory's face is like she knows he's coming up behind her. The temperature drops a few degrees whenever he appears. She has a sixth sense for this stuff. She's evolved a series of survival mechanisms. She's like, "if I freeze, maybe he'll just sniff me, see I'm not a threat, and scamper off into the woods. He's more scared of you than you are of him. Stay perfectly still, Rory." Lane, however, is oblivious to the danger, as always.

Women's Reactions To The Arrival Of Dean Forrester: A field guide. Unless you'e Lorelai Gilmore, a typical presentation is quiet, slack jawed terror and/or silently planning an escape route.

Okay butthead, what do you want? How is AmyShermanPalladino going to stuff you into this plot about Rory's grandfather, one that has nothing to do with Boys?

Okay Forrester, you've reached your 1 sentence, four word quota. The time to stop talking is now.

How about you suck my non existent left nut, Forrester?

Please don't do it Rory. I know you have more than 4 brain cells to squeeze together in that smart noggin of yours and you can choose to decline.

She was probably like "Oh yeah Dean I REALLY miss seeing you play softball", the same way she probably said to him "I REALLY want to see Lord of the Rings with you." Dean my friend, it's fine if you can't understand sarcasm, many people can't, and that's OK. But I feel this is causing a bit of a communication issue between you and Rory. For example, you think Rory cares about your stupid hobbies but in actuality Rory would rather see you walk face first into a nest of sexually frustrated hornets than do any of this shit with you.

Are we still on this "I spent one night without Dean so now I have to spend every night with Dean" kick?

NO! NO NO NO. WHY MUST WE DO THIS IN EVERY SINGLE FREAKING EPISODE?! I HATE SEASON 2, I HATE "BARGAINING WITH BUTTHEAD" AND I HATE DEAN FORRESTER! Rory of course fucking COMPROMISES with BUTTZILLA FORRESTER, AGAIN, and agrees to watch him play softball next week if he ALLOWS her to stay home and do her HOMEWORK. GOD DAMN IT RORY GILMORE! ALSO DAMN IT LANE KIM, SAY SOMETHING.

I was so blinded with rage I almost missed the guy cradling a chicken in the background.

Poor Butthead is sad. Wah wah wah. That chicken has more brain cells than you.

Rory got the short end of the stick playing Bargaining With Butthead again, because he's still going to show up at her house later!

Not me going to Google to read up on the weight of a softball and trying to imagine the satisfying crack when one beans him in the head later, knocking him unconcious. WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL THIS? Just so Jared Padalecki could get a paycheck? Remember how the WB cut Milo a check for not working? Couldn't they have done that to Jared? Go home, kick your feet up, and don't ever come back to this show. If only. Michel's Mom shows up at the Inn and it's a cute Z plot but it means fuckall and I have nothing to say.

We haven't been told why Richard decided to change his mind, but he did. The random student in the group is named Chip, and with a name like that he's definitely a 35 year old posing as a high school student.

Watch as Madelyn effortlessly invents the Amazon Echo (Alexa) (or a smartphone, depending on how you want to frame it, but the fact that it's meant to be stored in one area sounds more like Alexa to me) but Rory says it can't be done because nobody knows how to build a robot. Another brilliant woman whose multi-billion dollar ideas will eventually be co opted by a man. All because Rory didn't know anyone in her high school who could build a highly complex technologically advanced talking assistant in the year 2002. Pity, that. If you think about it, even the "Carrying your stuff" did not have to mean a literal robot butler, but foreshading the way a smartphone stores books and other school materials. Meanwhile Richard is falling asleep and nursing a migraine listening to her incredible pitch probably because she's a Girl, and the two other men in the group are contributing nothing. Louise wants to invent some sort of device to track lost lipsticks. You attach it to your lipstick then press a button on a remote to find it when it get lost? It sounds dumb on the surface then you realize she just invented AirTags. Rory and Paris are not on board with the LipStick LoJack or the Amazon Echo/Iphone. We have two incredibly advanced minds at work here. and they're being absolutely wasted. What this really means is that AmyShermanPalladino was inventing these things well over a decade before they were actually realized and entered the public conciousness. Let's give her some credit. Dang. I can't recall what the winning idea ends up being but I'm sure it will be absolutely usless. Wait, wait, here it comes... Paris' pitches...a first aid kit. Really? This is the brilliant idea that wins out over all the rest (they never bothered to ask Chip The 35 Year Old or Brad for ideas and actually Rory herself never contributed any idea of her own). Richard wants to know why Paris is inventing a) something that already exists b) something free c) something widely available d) something absolutely idiotic and lame and uninteresting to teenagers, and if you gave teenagers free first aid kits they'd probably just take the contents out and chuck them at each other. And what is her brilliant marketing tactic to get the Teens on board?

This idea is so dumb that it's completely out of character for Paris. How's this gonna look on your Harvard application, girly? I'm not gonna say that in 1998 I wouldn't have bought a lunch box full of band aids if someone slapped a picture of the Backstreet Boys on them, but... I don't know how to end that sentence.

Go on Paris, keep on making the old man feel smug and justified in his thinking that teenage girls only care about unicorns and the color pink. Richard: Tricked out first aid kits? You really think that's going to work? Paris: Yes, yes I do. Richard: So do I. It's perfect. I think Richard has been hitting the bottle a little too hard during his retirement. Rory agrees that the idea is just brilliant, the boys have still contributed nothing, and we cut away from the scene with Richard having never asked his own grand daughter to present any ideas.

She should have invented Buttzilla Repellent spray to keep Dean at bay. Honestly.

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 1

Status: Work In Progress

Version: 2.01

Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC

Rating: NC-17 (This chapter PG)

Genre: Adventure/Romance

Summary:

Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young. Being the Southern Deliveries Manager for the Baldur's Gates Zhentarim is not an easy job. Between mentoring new recruits, juggling vicious coworkers and whip-cracking bosses, bandits are the least of Rugan's troubles. An encounter with a charming stranger on the job serves to only complicate his life all the more.

Notes:

Posting this anew as I've begun an editing pass of the older chapters and the original post was reblogged on a poll.

Table of Contents

Read Here on AO3 or below the cut.

The run between Elturel and Baldur's Gate was a common one. A veteran caravan guard, Rugan must have done it a thousand times before, though rarely with the full Gate crew. 

The reason for the entourage had become clearer upon collecting their package in Elturel. Zarys had brusquely informed the company that instead of returning to the Gate they'd now be turning north up the Trade Way. All the way north in fact, to the city of Waterdeep.

Boareskyr Bridge was quiet this early in the morning. Their caravan had set out at dawn, when the bustle of its impromptu market would not start for another hour or two.

In the sky the Companion could still be seen hanging above distant Elturel. The origins of the glowing orb were unknown, but it bathed the city and outlying areas in a constant magic glow.

“No more protection from undead this far out.” Olly muttered somberly as he looked at the ever shrinking Companion. The raven-haired lad was the youngest member of the convoy, having joined up only a few months prior. His face was utterly unlined, unlike Rugan’s, and his shoulders were broad and well muscled.

“Ah take heart lad. A few skeletons ain't nowt to worry about. They don't even have the brains to outwit Brem; an easy task as ever there was.” Rugan gave one of his most charming smiles and Olly chuckled in response.

“S’ppose you're right.”

“Oi! Can hear you over here Rugan!” Brem, a man with clownishly red hair, shouted from the front of the caravan. This gave them both a laugh as they followed behind the wagon on horseback.

“Zarys,” Bellar began and Rugan felt in his gut that whatever came next would surely raise her ire. “last I checked we managed the Southern deliveries.”

“How astute of you Bellar.” Sarcasm dripped from Zarys’ clipped tones. Though older than Olly, she was uncharacteristically young for a swordhar, but what she lacked in years was replaced three-fold with ruthless efficiency.

“So then why in the hells are we going to Waterdeep? Management realises Waterdeep is north, yeah?”

“It's a very special delivery, lady Urmbrusk herself. Even you should be able to understand that.”

Somewhere from the front of the caravan Rugan could hear Brem bark a laugh of his own. He could tell Bellar was straining not to bite something back.

It was no secret among the Zhents that the Urmbrusks were in their debt. Any work for the Urmbrusks was in reality a job tasked by upper management, perhaps even Zhentil Keep or Manshoon himself.

“Lad does have a point.” He chipped in before Bellar could. “Highly unusual request.”

“Northern team didn't have the men to spare,” Zarys continued, giving Rugan a pointed look. “besides they'll have a delivery to Baldur's Gate for our return trip. And weren't you the one that wanted a change of scenery, Rugan?”

“I was thinking more like Amn, follow along the coast. Some nice sea breeze .” Rugan lilted the last bit. “But I'll enjoy the sights here well enough.” 

What he didn't like was not having a northern guide when none of the other crew had even done the route before.

‘ Haven't done this route myself in nigh on ten years. ’ He thought to himself, but it would do no good to voice those thoughts when Olly was still spooked. He met Zarys' steel blue eyes from where she sat in the back of the wagon and could tell she had gleaned his thoughts on the matter.

“Northern team has given their assurances that we shouldn't have much trouble.” She answered his unspoken thoughts.

‘ Sure not much trouble, and Roah Moonglow is a templar of Torm. ’ Another thought unspoken.

“Ah well then, nothing to worry about eh lads? Now how's about a song to make the work go faster.” He clapped Olly oh the back who only shook his head but smiled all the same.

“What about Dark Dark Wood?” Suggested Bellar with a wicked grin.

“You want to sing that on the road?” Asked Rugan, utterly exasperated. The whole point was to raise spirits.

“Might scare off any bandits.”

“Nah, were doing a proper song, Red Roof Girls–”

“No.” Zarys vetoed, tone dark.

“Not a lick of fun, the lot of you.” Rugan sighed and shook his head in exaggerated fashion. He noted that aside from Zarys the members of the company were all working to hide grins. 

“Here, I know a better one then.”

Zarys had not heard Jonstan the Rover before, so Rugan had managed to get through a whole stanza before she forbade singing of any kind altogether. 

The trip had been quiet after that but there wasn't a frown to be found. Unless you counted Zarys, and even hers seemed feigned to Rugan's trained eye. The old Zhent reckoned this was as much success as one could hope for and silently thanked the smiling lady for his good fortune, humming faintly all the while...

“Not much trouble.” Rugan muttered bitterly as he sat crouched behind the remnants of an overturned wagon. 

+++++

They had been on the road three ten-day since the bridge and had already encountered several ghouls, two groups of bandits and now this.

He turned to Bellar who was squatting beside him. “Does this look like not much trouble to you?”

“Looks like a bloody Harper ambush.” Bellar spat, his dark braids glistening with sweat.

“Aye, it's got that feel to it. Bandits wouldn't be so careless with their fire ‘round the cargo.”

Olly slid over from his hiding place behind a rock, basket of fire flasks in hand. “Think this’ll do, Rugan?”

“Aye, good thinking lad.” With a grunt of effort Rugan hurled a bottle over the wagon and heard it crash on the other side. He grinned in satisfaction when a chorus of screams followed. Bellar followed suit to similar effect.

“And just where in the hells is our mage?” Barked Rugan. “Shouldn't he be slinging spells right about now?”

“Archers got Sal first when it broke out,” supplied Olly. “It's like they knew who to look for.” 

“I bet I know who gave them that little tidbit.” Snorted Bellar, peeking through a small crack between the boards. “See that girl there? The one trying to stop her friend from bleeding out?”

“Aye,” Rugan was squinting but he could make her out. “looks a tad familiar.”

“That's cause she was all over our resident clown back at the inn in Elturel.” 

“By the nine hells Brem.” He cursed. “Alright we need to kill her and burn the body before she can give up his loose tongue or Zarys will have his hide.”

Bellar scoffed. “We? Don’t get how that's my issue, mate.”

“As usual I have to do everything myself around here.” Rugan muttered, grabbing another bottle. 

A scream rang out before he could even bring the bottle up and he turned just in time to see Olly drop back into a crouch behind the wagon, bow in hand. “Killed her.” The boy preened.

Glancing back through the crack Rugan saw the blood spurting from the eye socket where Olly's arrow was buried.

“Good shot lad. I owe you a drink.”  Rugan cheered with a hearty clap to Olly's back.

“I reckon what you meant to say was: as per usual, Olly does all your heavy lifting.” Bellar chuckled.

“Oh, aye.” Rugan waved him off before continuing. “The trio of archers behind that log are the last of the ranged, I reckon. We can approach without getting hit if we rush them with what remains of the wagon bottom.”

“You've gotta be joking.”

“We're three strapping lads, we can manage. Let’s see you do some of the lifting for once Bellar.” Rugan grunted as he slipped his hands under the lip of the planks. Olly and Bellar followed suit.

“On three.”

As Rugan had predicted they managed to heft the broken remnants of the wagon’s floor and charge their quarry. The thick wooden planks caught the few whizzing arrows, though they dropped it with great effort as they reached the rock. The run had winded them but at close quarters the archers had no hope against Rugan and Bellar's sword work. The first two were cut down in mere moments. One tried to make a run for it and Olly loosed an arrow into his back.

The battle was swiftly over after that. The rest of the Zhents quickly mopping up any stragglers and Rugan casually dropping a fire flask on the corpse of the spy.

“Oops, butter fingers.” He lied when doe-eyed Garias gave him a questioning look.

“How's it looking, Zarys?” He approached the honey-blonde haired swordhar as she was giving orders to a pair of grunts.

“No casualties, I heard you actually did some good work, for once .” Her arms crossed as she surveyed the battlefield.

“Sal?”

“Arrow pierced his lung, was uncertain for a spell there but Brem managed to get him a potion in time. How's the cargo?”

“One wagon was smashed by their caster, lost four crates of spirits. Urmbrusk case is secure however.”

“Suppose we should be grateful, management would skin our hides if we lost it.” She snorted derisively.

“Reckon that's what attracts all this attention in the first place.” Rugan supplied her unspoken thought. Despite Zarys' outward hostility, the pair had known each other for years and understood each other better than most.

“Well, we're nearly there so no point moaning about it now.” She turned to bark orders to the rest of the team. “Get to packing what you can on the remaining wagons, I want to make Waterdeep by nightfall. Anyone falls behind gets left behind!”

Rugan made his way back to Olly and Bellar, both hastily loading what goods they could.

Olly glanced up at his approach. “Looks like Bellar was right.” He opened his hand to reveal a small pin that resembled a harp across a crescent moon.

“Not surprised.” Rugan exhaled. “Damned Harpers are always interfering in Zhent business.”

“And,” Added Bellar. “I'm always right.”

“Be a good lad and give that to Zarys, Olly.” Rugan gestured in her direction with a tilt of his head.

“Sure thing, Rugan.” The boy trotted off without a second thought.

Rugan couldn't have asked for a better recruit than Olly and honestly dreaded the lad’s eventual advancement. Wouldn't be able to find a replacement lackey half as good if he scoured the whole Sword coast.

“Good lad.” Bellar commented on Olly’s retreating figure.

“Aye.” Rugan agreed.

“Too good. Gonna have to knock that selflessness out of him sooner or later. Ain’t gonna do him no good if he don't think of himself first and foremost.”

Rugan snorted. “You'd think he'd learn that by now just watching me.”

“Well, problem is you ain't exactly smashing it. So it's probably not sticking.”

Rugan stared at Bellar, devoid of humour. “Get to packing, you.”