#he just beats them up a because that's the only way he knows how to hang out

[lgbtlunaverse]

Fandom is so nice to Jiang Cheng's inferiority complex because in reality every single thing he gets accused of is something Wei Wuxian is better at than him.

Jiang Cheng killed Wei Wuxian? Nope. Didn't even get close. Wei Wuxian's own spirits tore him apart before jc could even get there. wwx:1 jc:0

Jiang Cheng tortures people? We get two and a half rumours and a mention from jin ling that jc has 'captured' demonic cultivators before, but who is also apparently confident that just letting wwx run off will kill the issue even though those earlier rumours said ~no one who sandu shengshou captured was ever seen again~

The word jiang cheng uses when he tries to talk big game about 'beating the truth' out of Wei Wuxian's is a word that carries the context of pestering someone to do their homework. Doesn't exactly strike fear into my heart.

Wei Wuxian? Excellent at torture. A prodigy. Did you fucking see what he did to Wen Chao? Dude didn't have fingers anymore because wei wuxian made him eat them. He ripped out his hair, burned his skin off, and then stalked him for several days just to prolong the pain. He forced Wang Lingjiao to bite Wen Chao's dick off and then made her shove a stool leg down her own throat! 10/10, no notes. Absolutely horrifying.

Meanwhile Jiang Cheng's idea of torture is getting a dog to bark at Wei Wuxian for a few seconds. Weak, unoriginal, I bet fairy was literally wagging her tail the whole time. 2-0

Jiang Cheng made the entire cultivation world believe Wei Wuxian was up to no good on the burial mounds and ultimately orchestrated his downfall? lol. lmao, even

It's a big thing in certain corners of the fandom to really zoom in one one particular phrase at the end of chapter 73, where after wwx and jc have their staged duel to make the world believe they hate each other jiang cheng tells everyone wwx has defected and become "a public enemy'' or "an enemy to the cultivation world" or whatever the translation you're familiar with decided upon.

(As an aside, something I really like about this line is that the last half of it is almost exactly the same, like verbatim, as what wwx told him to say. like, the chapter is really hammering home just how much jc is speaking from a script here. wwx tells jc to say "今后魏无羡无论做出什么事，都与云梦江氏无关." and jc says "今后无论此人有何动作，一概与云梦江氏无关" the only meaningful difference is that he says 'this person' instead of wwx's name)

I've seen it said that this bit, the use of 'enemy' was said without wei wuxian's approval, that jc deviated from the script just to hurt his ex-shixiong for leaving him. And that this is what caused all the other clans to turn against wei wuxian. Regardless of if this is what jc and wwx discussed, or if jc had malicious motivations for it (considering my conclusions above, you can guess where i fall) it doesn't really matter, because the novel tells us when the clans completely freak out and become convinced wei wuxian is out to get them (though of course they've been wringing their hands about it since the literal day wwx ran off with the wen, months before jiang cheng visited) very neatly in chapter 75!

It's when they find out about Wen Ning.

And how do they find out about Wen Ning?

Because Wei Wuxian took him on nighthunts! And they kicked ass!

...Wei Wuxian, my man, why are you on nighthunts??? Why are you showing off your incredibly cool sentient fierce corpse buddy, who is way better and stronger than all the other fierce corpses, in front of the whole cultivation world??

Whatever his motivations (extra money, maybe?? they were strapped for crash) I can only draw the conclusion wwx had already given up on appearing calm or non-threatening and didn't care if the clans thought he was a threat, because they'd believe whatever they wanted anyway. Which he seems to clearly be aware of the whole time.

Regardless, we know that this is what created the myth of the Yiling patriarch. It's literally when the title first shows up!

Even if you really believe jc was secretly plotting against wwx in chapter 73, he's clearly doing a shit job of it because nothing he said made anywhere near as big an impact as this. Flopped!

The other point people use to argue Jiang Cheng caused wei wuxian's downfall is Jin Guangyao's speech in Guanyin temple about how jiang cheng could have saved wei wuxian if only he stood by him. Setting aside that jin guangyao is trying to get into jiang cheng's head here, and isn't necessarily saying what he really believes (though it very well might be! who knows with a character like jgy. assuming he's always lying is just as misleading as assuming he's always saying the truth) the fact is, if you read the speech closely, what he's talking about is not the 'public enemy' line, he's talking about the bond between them. The fact that people wanted wei wuxian out of yunmeng jiang, because the two were too powerful together.

He's talking about that one time Jiang Cheng very publically kicked wei wuxian out of the sect!

Which, unbeknownst to Jin Guangyao, was in fact Wei Wuxian's idea the whole time.

final score: 3 for you wei wuxian, you go wei wuxian! And nothing for Jiang Cheng bye.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #yunmeng shuangjie #i have never been more tempted to tag something as 'canon jiang cheng' #i don't really believe in the whole 'reclaiming the tag' thing i kinda roll my eyes at it and stay out of there #but I AM explicitly talking about fanon misconceptions about jiang cheng... and is that not what that tag was for?? oh well #let's not antagonize people #i am giggling at the realization that jgs must have thought all his pointed comments about wwx's 'disrespect' hit their mark #when wwx defected #only for jc to sneak his future daughter in law to yiling and letting wwx name his grandson a few months later #LMAOOO GET REKT OLD MAN

[through-a-blackhole]

Natsu Dragneel thinks Lucy Heartfilia is weird and these are the reasons why:

- The first time he meets her, she thanks him and he’s confused because he didn’t do shit except get beat up by random women, yet she tells him that she’s somehow thankful for him

- She treats him and Happy to food, and they alternate between listening to her and stuffing their faces with meat. She talks about magic and guilds, and gushes about Fairy Tail and dreams of joining his family

- She wrecks an entire harbor and freaks out, as if Natsu didn’t do half the damage himself, but joins him when he invites her to run away with him

- Lucy is so confusing, Natsu thinks. She wears clothes that reveal much of her skin, uses her sex appeal for bargains, reads those romance novels, but gets shy at the slightest talks of love

- She forms a team with him and he picks a job requiring a blonde maid, and he thinks it’s so silly of her to dress up with a maid costume and call him master

- He finds out she’s an heiress, and he almost wants to laugh because she’s an heiress of railways and trains, and he actually laughs when he realizes that Lucy had been affecting him even before they met

- She acts like a princess most of the time, obvious in how she speaks and carries herself, and Natsu is once again reminded that she grew up with wealth but then some of her quirks show through, like how thrifty she is with money, and the irony of it all isn’t lost on him

- She looks for love most of the time, and when the opportunity presented itself in a black-haired guy who loved to read and was interested in celestial spirits, she blew it all off to join him and Happy on a job

- She jumps off a fucking tower just because she knew he’d catch her, and he did but for a second he thought he wouldn’t make it, and when he catches her, his heart beats so loudly it could almost burst out of his ribcage

- He is confused; he died as a human, was brought to life as a demon, and grew up as the son of a dragon, and lived life as a fairy tail mage. He asks Lucy how he looks like and she smiles and says like Natsu, and he collapses against her chest in relief

- Lucy cries a lot and it is a common misconception that she’s the weakest one in their team, but Natsu knows Lucy is definitely the strongest

- He is once again confused when she doubts her abilities because why would she ever feel like she is the weakest? She is a Celestial spirit mage who has 10 out of the 12 Zodiac keys, all of whom adore her in addition to having the Celestial Spirit King’s favor, she’s done leaps and bounds in terms of magic, especially for someone who has only started seriously using their magic at age 17 whereas the entire guild has started practicing it ever since they were kids, and Lucy is one of the best mages in Fairy Tail despite her incredibly short time in wielding her power

- She breaks into him and Happy’s house to clean, and throws a fit when she realizes they weren’t coming home, but softens up when she finds them asleep in her apartment

- She’s weird. She’s so weird and loud and she hides inside a clock to escape the cold weather instead of just wearing a jacket.

- He loves her, though. Natsu would never trade Lucy for anything, he loves her with all of his heart, all of her weirdness and quirky traits and the way she hugs him is nice and she smells comforting and he feels safe around her

#fairy tail #nalu #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #natsu x lucy #ft #natsu #lucy #soulmates #fairy tail 100 yq #ft nalu #can natsu and lucy get together already #natsu just kiss her already #fairy tail lucy #fairy tail natsu #natsu thoughts on lucy #thoughts

[ghost-bxrd]

Been reading some of the silver age Batman stuff... Ouch. Reading that and reading canon Bruce?

Ugh, I wanna punch whoever decided they had to make him an edgelord to be 'realistic'.

The silver age plots are goofy and all, I know. WFA plots have a bit of a sitcom feel, I know.

And the modern comics do have a lot of really interesting storylines - like the Court of Owls, Luke's whole WAR arc- and a lot of really creepy awesome villains.

But the problem is the modern mainstream comics? I can barely get through one without wanting to punch Bruce - and occasionally others, but most commonly Bruce - in the face.

And it is tough to enjoy a plotline when the main character is a jerk, if you were first introduced to that main character as a good dad, a good friend.

I really want DC to do a reboot again - or at least start an Elseworlds comic - where they bring back good dad Bruce.

Bruce taking Dick or Jason or whichever Batkid to movies or amusement park? Bruce hanging out with Clark just chatting and being BFFs? Dick just leaving for college instead of getting kicked out at 16? Dick and Jason having a good relationship? Batfam who do mess up, but always try to set it right?

Gimme!

I can totally relate!

The first time I got introduced to the Batman franchise it was with the general outline of “vigilante trying to save people regardless of their past and wrongdoing” which, admittedly, may be a bit shallow as far as characterization is concerned, but damn when I started getting into the batfam fandom and the Robin history… I was stumped.

The early versions of Batman, his trademark characteristic, was that he cared about people. That despite his past trauma, he was still so intrinsically good and kind hearted. He adored children. He never considered anybody beyond saving.

I will never understand how the writers could move from that Batman image onto a version of him that would adopt a child only to later kick him out and then tell another he’s “not interested in teenage rebellion” because “I’m not your dad”. Or even canonically punching one of them in the face hard enough to knock a tooth out, completely unprovoked.

(Not to mention the whole beating Jason up so badly that Jason literally says “I’ve never seen you hit Joker that hard. And you hate him.”… or the batarang incident. Just… yeah.)

It’s just… jarring.

I totally agree with you that there are some very interesting plots (Court of Owls my beloved) but I don’t get how that translates to the writers making Bruce such a horrible dad or mentor. Like, it doesn’t add anything to the story except making the reader dislike him. And not much (if anything) would have changed if they’d at least made him a decent dad/father. At least that’s how I feel.

(Writers should take inspiration from Batman: City of Madness, because the way Bruce handled the scared kid in there… THAT’S what he’s supposed to be like!!!! A gentle yet fierce protector!!!!!!)

So in conclusion… good dad Bruce for the win!!!!! This jerky Bruce isn’t canon for me 😤 Silver Age let’s go 💚

#Batman #musings #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #silver age #comics #ghost talks

[luffyvace]

The Luffy Package ☠️📦

(General & relationship headcanons as well as Luffy quotes (relationship implied) for his big day!!)

had to go all out for my fav 😊🤭

General Luffy headcanons:

Luffy has nails so short dirt can’t get under it 😭

not necessarily the booty diggers 🤭

but just really short, like almost booty digger ig—but not it

he has like 1% nail

its not intentional, they just never grow

i have a feeling someone taught luffy how to dance

idk who

it was likely makino, shanks or some else he cares deeply about

but he learned early on and has been a great dancer ever since!

maybe at parties since they happen a lot in one piece ⭐️

But just because someone taught him doesn’t mean he was awful at dancing at first

maybe he was a natural!

feel the rhythm typa thing 🎶 🕺

it’d be funny if he was

cuz imagine a guy that can dance but can’t sing

how you gon dance on beat to a out of tune song?? 😭

at least to uta anyway

ive always loved Luffy’s singing‼️

he never thinks about what the one piece is

but would be the most disappointed if it isn’t something cool

this dude is NOT interested in books so if the one piece really is just joyboy’s tale i don’t think he’ll be satisfied..😭 (I’m talking about the theory)

he definitely wouldn’t say it was all for nothin tho

he still has nakama, treasure and is the pirate king!! 👑

but…the one piece as books is just a mega L for him

Robin will enjoy ♡

you know that thing he does where he stretches his face real big? Like the time he was tryna cheer nami up when she was sick? And it scared vivi and zoro?

he scared himself when he first realized he could do that too

he was bored and started messing around with his devil fruit

at first he was outside and he stretched his mouth, and when realized he could see inside it, he was like ‘I wonder what this looks like’

so he went inside and did it into a mirror

he somehow managed to trash the whole bathroom running away from his reflection

he quickly got over it and realized it was kinda funny

he showed Ace and sabo who also found it terrifying

then preceded to scare people with it ever since

d end! :)

I feel like he’s thought about what the ‘D’ in his name stands for too

He came up with a bunch of outrageous names that likely aren’t it..

”Dingus?”

”Donkey?”

”Demarto?”

”Doorbell?”

”Dinosaur?”

yeah, dinosaur seems the most plausible 😊

Luffy Dinosaur Monkey!

‘HEY THAT SOUNDS COOL 🤩’

yup, that’s probably what it stands for 😁

sneaks into the usopp factory whenever he’s not in there

he ends up playing with his creations and destroys, it, other projects, and the factory altogether in the progress

he then runs out laughing

usopp later returns to the ruins only to find his months work of his greatest creation yet named “ultimate captain usopp three thousand smasher” has been reduced to fragments of metal nothing ☺️

listen idk if oda has confirmed Luffy’s favorite color but I would say it’s none

why? The same reason why you can’t ask a toddler their’s, it’s just gonna constantly change and you know it’s not the truth

arguably, if I had to pick an actual color based off canon, (IK it’s a shade but wtv) it’d be white

why? wym? Don’t you remember that one ep where luffy sang a song about how he loves snow cuz it’s so white?

(one of his lesser talked about songs 😭💗)

Relationship Luffy headcanons:

Luffy as a partner is really rambunctious and loving

But do note that loving doesn’t always mean romantic

for him it means loving you a lot but not being lovey dovey when showing it

you need protecting? He’s on the case!! He can’t and he has to beat someone up? One of your nakama’ll do it so stay with them!

your strong? Perfect! He’s gonna go fight this guy so you go beat up that one!

why am I mentioning that? Because it shows he has a great sense of trust and faith in you

Of course he does with all his friends but your reasoning is different

not only are you his nakama, your also his partner!! Which means he loves you in a intimate way!! Not just platonically

I say “just�� because I swear sometimes Luffy’ll feel like a friend with you (best friends and lover typa thing 💞) he’s just as goofy and chaotic with you as he is Usopp and chopper

he feels extra lively when around you and always wants to play, whether you like this or not. Your personality depends a lot on how your relationship with him is but I won’t dabble into that today because it’s his birthday. 🎉 but honestly it doesn’t matter if you punch him like nami or laugh like brook-

he’s still gonna bug you! 💖 seriously you can’t get rid of this dude 🤨 Luffy will drag you on every single one of his adventures so I hope your either brave or fearless like him. The only time you two separate and he allows it is when he’s fighting the boss type thing LOL. Like Doflamingo or smth.

that said Luffy isn’t clingy he just likes being around you and seeing what your doing. Especially when you haven’t landed on an island yet and he’s bored. He’s always singing, playing with your face (ironic cuz he’s the stretchy one) or trying to get you to play some silly game he made up

that usually somehow manages to tick everyone off. 🤷‍♀️

will grab your hands randomly and make you dance to some song he made up about literally anything he sees or feels

he even made one about YOU once :3

”OOOOOHHH your my partner! Yes my partner! We’re having lots of fun! Going on adventures- YAHOO!! And dancing a ton! We’ll dance all arcross the grand line!! Take your hats off and let them fly!! YIPPIE!! We’re having a graaaaand TIIIIIIIME!” 😁🕺

Luffy quotes: (implied relationship between you two)

”HEY LOOK DO YOU SEE THAT ISLAND!! Cmoncmoncmoncmoncmoncmon!! HURRY UP I WANNA GO EXPLORING!!”

”can you sneak in the kitchen and steal some food from sanji? I’m really hungry and he won’t let me in anymore!!”

”LETS HAVE A PARTY!!!” — “we don’t need a reason! CMON!’ CHEERS!”

”lets tame that thing and make it our pet!!”

”what should we name em?” — “Junpi? SOUNDS GOOD TO ME!!” (You didn’t get a chance to respond 💕)

”HEY LOOK A RESTAURANT!! Grab on I’ll rocket us there!! HURRY UP IM HUNGRYYY!!”

”hey! Do you have any food on you?? I’m hungry!”

”Liar!! I can smell it!!”

”take a bath?! I don’t stink!!— EUGH!- okay yeah maybe….but I don’t wanna take a bath!! I’ll get all tired!”

”I’ll leave you with that guy! So go kick some butt! I’ll deal with that red forehead guy!!” (AN: There’s no actual red forehead guy that’s canon, I made it up 👍)

”⁉️ HEY WHAT HAPPENED?! Did that guy beat you up?! I’ll send him flying!! 💢”

”Shishishishi! Shh! Watch this! I’m gonna drop this on Usopp’s head! 🤭😂”

”Lets play a gaaaaame!! I’m so bored! 😞”

”can I have some of your food?” *Already stuffing a piece in his mouth* (the point is it’s not the whole thing ⁉️😱)

”HE LOOK MY BOUNTY WENT UP!! 🤩🤩‼️“

”Isn’t this fun?! 😆” (having a near death experience)

”don’t worry! My injuries don’t hurt at all! See? I’m dancing! I’m having fun!”

”oops. Sorry.”

”look!” (Two chop sticks stuffed up his nose and mouth)

”WOAHH A MAN KILLING BEAR!! LETS GO CHECK IT OUT! 🤩” (even if you wanted to say no your already being hoisted over there because you weren’t running fast enough for him)

”plan? Never mind that!! Let’s go! We’re gonna kick that butt head guys’ butt!!” (AN: another fictional villain I made up on a whim)

”HOLD ON TIGHT” (Gum Gum Rockets with hardly any warning)

”let’s play a game!! It’s called steal zoro’s swords without waking up zoro!! 😁”

”nyop!” (Puts you atop his shoulders 💓)

”nyop!” (Jumps on your back almost knocking you over 💝)

”look at my disguise! Nobody will suspect us! 😎👍”

”Cmere!” (Pulls you into his lap)

”HI! Is it almost time for dinner yet?” (Plops down in your lap)

Thanks for supporting me and my work—as well as my random disappearances too 💗🤗

Everyone! Say it!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUFFY‼️‼️

#luffy birthday #happy birthday luffy #monkey d luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy headcanons #one piece luffy #with: luffy #luffy fluff #straw hat pirates #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece #fluff #fluff headcanons #luffyvace #anime and manga #anime headcanons #anime #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy headcanons #strawhat pirates #luffy d monkey #luffy x reader #luffy week #op luffy #luffy op #mugiwara no luffy

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley finally finds the words to explain what he's been feeling for you, but the sudden reappearance of someone from his immediate past threatens to dampen the mood. And ruin any progress he's had toward becoming more with you.

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k (get some drinkies ready)

Warning/s: angy boi Oakley at the elderly (she had it coming); bit of angst; language (like maybe 2 cuss words) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: only one bed trope at the end; special guest Hiddles character mentioned; jealous and clingy Oakley hours

Note to self: Find a massive care package for Y/N's sister to thank her for the new dresses, Oakley typed away at his phone, giving himself a reminder as he looked outside the cafe to where you were seated, admiring the way today's wine-colored dress made you look like a doll. Every dress the last few days did, and it always gave him the perfect opportunity to offer you his jacket if ever you started getting chills during your classes.

It was a rare beautifully sunny morning, and he told you to find a seat outside, beat the rest of the customers to it. He'd take care of ordering for the both of you. Much as he still didn't consider himself a morning person in the least, these hours he got to spend with you before your first class for the day made it well worth the adjustment. Especially today, that he was blessed with the vision of the morning light bathing you in such an ethereal glow.

You were more than a doll today, you were an angel. At the risk of blaspheming any deity out there, he might even call you a goddess.

It was just too bloody bad for him that other men were beginning to notice the change in your appearance, too. Some frat boys blatantly ogling you and nudging their mates to get a good eyeful as well, others even being so bold that they outright approached you to tell you how nice you'd been looking this week. While he was visibly in your company, no less.

And then…there was the worst of them all, at least to him. Your thesis advisor. Professor Laing. Who saw you even before your sister's intervention. Who showered you with admittedly well-deserved praises for being one of the brightest amongst his students.

Who saw you for everything you were worth even before Oakley himself did because he was so caught up in enjoying his life as a boy, that he didn't realize that a better life could have been waiting for him as a man.

Who was standing outside by your table, chatting it up with you with that blinding grin of his that he seemed to only have for you. Every other student in your year only ever got that menacing grimace as if he was lambasting every word that came out their mouth. No one dared approach him to become their thesis adviser, but for you…for you the professor approached you himself. Saved you the trouble of lining up with everyone else on the faculty and fighting your classmates for slots.

You were the only one he took on.

This was definitely a new emotion, the pounding in his chest, the furious breaths he was taking through his nose as he watched the two of you outside. Before there was only a mild irritation whenever he took notice of how much nicer the otherwise grouchy professor was to you. But now? Now it felt as if someone lit a fire under his arse. Now his insides were writhing with something he'd rarely, if ever, dealt with before.

Jealousy.

Laing made a motion as if to take the seat across from you, and from what he could see of your face, you seemed apologetic, explaining to him that it was already taken. "Yes, that's right, the seat's mine, you pompous wanker," Oakley muttered under his breath, forcing a civil thin line of a smile across his face when the older man looked into the cafe, his own bright smile fading into its signature grimace before he nodded at both of you, before saying something else to you, briefly touching your shoulder, and crossing the street toward the campus proper.

The elderly lady at the register cleared her throat, motioning for him to step forward. "A fry up with the works and a cup of decaf," he said absentmindedly, browsing the lineup of pastries for something down your alley.

"And for your girlfriend, dearie?"

The word felt like a jolt of electricity all over his body, all the way to the tips of his fingers. The roots of his hair.. "Erm, she's not my girlfriend, but I'll get two of those jalapeño cheese puffs, a lemon bar, and your largest iced coffee as well."

"Could've fooled me, dearie," she shot back at him. "The way you looked at her, your pupils might as well be heart-shaped." He handed her his credit card when she told him the total, his mind still fixating on that word.

Did he want that for you? Was he ready to put your friendship on the line for the chance of becoming something…more? How would you react if he told you he'd been thinking about you endlessly since he got back from Italy? Was he ready for the possibility of you rejecting him?

Did everyone that saw him in the last few days know what was going on in his mind whenever he looked at you? Was he that much of an open book that literal strangers could decipher him so easily?

And if strangers had read him within moments…had you read him, too?

"She's my friend," he said softly, the words fighting against him as if it hurt him to say. "How am I supposed to tell her--"

"I've been here quite a while, dearie," the lady cut him off. "And I've seen all kinds of stories play out in this here cafe. You're not the first ladykiller I've seen wanting to go down the reformation route, and you certainly won't be the last. I'll tell you what I've told every single one before you. You can't go about thinking about how to tell her, if you don't even know the words yourself yet. Once you can tell yourself how you feel about this girl, that's the only time you can start even thinking about how you're going to woo her."

Oakley began to stew over more questions, starting with whether he even knew for himself quite yet these feelings he was having for you. How long would it take for him to know what they were? Where would he even start to find the words?

What if someone else found his words faster? Told you before he ever could? Or even worse…

What if someone else already knew how he felt, and could articulate those feelings better than Oakley ever could his own? Someone who had years of experience on him, and was so visibly smitten with you, it was almost endearing that you hadn't ever noticed it?

"What if I tell her and it's already too late? Or she doesn't feel the same?" What if all she'll ever see in me is the randy scoundrel that juggled two affairs in Italy?

"Then at least you would have told her. Letting your words remain unsaid will weigh down on you your whole life. Until they burst out of you. Or they crush you."

The sound of the service bell from the kitchen effectively stopped the conversation dead in its tracks, leaving Oakley to process the sage woman's words as she brought the tray to him.

"Enjoy your breakfast, dearie. And your company."

Before he lifted the tray, he snuck a glance at your seat again, his blood going cold when he caught sight of the woman walking away from your table. He hadn't seen her face, not completely, just a glimpse of the side of her face.

That was all he needed, though. He knew that frame, so well that it made him uneasy. Anna.

Once he made his way to you, there was a faraway look in your eyes, repeatedly scanning the same page on your notes as if nothing was sinking in. "Y/N…"

You started in your seat, looking a bit like a cartoon as you shook your head rapidly to get out of whatever thoughts were running through your head. Then your mouth stretched into a strained smile again. Just like the night he got back.

The unsettling pit in his stomach returned, a mixture of shame and fear flooding him now that a part of what he wanted to leave in the past had followed him and found its way to you. He couldn't help himself anymore, he reached across the table and took your hand in his, desperately trying to close the steadily growing distance he was feeling between you two.

"Y/N what's wrong? That woman that was just here what did she--"

"She's quite lovely," you told him, your strained smile unwavering as your eyes flickered to your joint hands. "Just wanted to check up on you since she couldn't call your mobile anymore. You really shouldn't let the people that care about you worry like that, Oakley."

You returned your focus to your notes, pulling your hand away from his to trace along your line of sight on the piece of paper, and at the same time deflating him of any hope that he had that perhaps you two would have a rather pleasant morning. Simply joking around and roaming about the campus until it was time for your classes together.

He was hoping that maybe today you would be open to the idea of having dinner with him. He would dress all nice and bring you to one of those frilly restaurants with wait staff and fancy wine glasses. Before you two would pick up some pizza for your all-nighter at his apartment.

Any hopes of today having any form of levity faded into nothing all because Anna wasn't one to let go. She'd tried to impose herself into Oakley's life and when she failed, she instead drove you away from him.

His panic worsened when you placed your things in your book bag, only throwing a cursory glance at the tray he'd brought out. No no, please don't leave, he wanted to plead with you. Beg you if he needed to. Don't take my light away. My home.

"Wait…Y/N, where are you going?" He couldn't find it in him to speak any louder, the lump in his throat making it hard to even breathe. Please stay.

"Professor Laing passed by while you were inside. Told me his schedule's cleared up for the day and I won't have to wait until after lunch to consult with him about my thesis." His chest felt a sharp pinch at your monotonous answer, not even a hint of your usually playful tone present. Like you were just trying to get out with as little fuss as possible.

"But…" he uttered, his voice barely a whisper. Maybe even a whimper. "What about breakfast?" he asked you lamely. "I got your favorites." Please stay.

The smile you gave him now was mirthless. Civil. "If I hurry perhaps I can find that lady friend of yours. She could join you, have a lovely morning together."

"No, no, Y/N stop." He placed his hands over yours, grabbing hold of your book bag for dear life. The words he was biting back from before began to spill out. "She doesn't mean anything to me. Just…just…please? Sit and we'll just finish our meal together and I can walk you to Laing's office myself." Please stay. Stay with me.

"She might not mean anything to you," you muttered, your hands stilling when his thumbs began to stroke the inside of your wrists, the gesture a touch too intimate for the two of you. "But clearly you mean something to her. She went all this way to see you--"

"That's obsession, Y/N, not affection. She doesn't care about me. Not in the ways that matter." Not like how I care about you. "Please?" he tried again. "Breakfast? Then straight to Laing's office. No detours, no distractions." And no ghosts from my past trying to drive a wedge between us.

He finally felt like he could breathe again when you sat back down on your seat, taking a bite from your puff pastry with a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when the cheese and jalapeño hit your taste buds. "You weren't kidding when you said you picked out my favorites," you mumbled, covering your mouth with your hand while you spoke. "Thank you."

"You know I've always been curious what is it about those pastries that you love so much. The lemon bars I understand. Coffee…I've accepted we'll never be on the same page with that--"

"To you, Goldie, it's a necessary evil. To me, it's like petrol to a car," you explained to him. "I need it if I want to function properly. Now as for these pastries…" You cut a small piece from your pastry, making a motion to hand the fork over to him. "Since you bought today's breakfast, I think it's only right that I share and help you satisfy your curiosity."

The Anna-shaped cloud that hung over your heads seemed to have been shoo'd away. At least for now. Oakley made a note to have a word with her if she was still hanging around campus after he walked you to your session with Laing.

For now he was more than content to enjoy the moment with you, wrapping his comparatively larger hand around your wrist and holding the fork in place. Then he held your gaze as he closed his lips around the tines, offering you a little smirk as he handed you back your now empty fork.

The remainder of breakfast passed quickly. Too quickly, if he was being completely honest with himself. Before he knew it he was already walking you toward your thesis adviser's office, once again fighting against the urge to wrap his hand around yours. To lace your fingers together.

"Alright so…I'll see you later tonight then." Your words violently yanked him back to the present moment. Tonight? "All nighter? Our thesis portfolios?" Your face fell for a fraction of a moment before stretching into that smile that now instilled the fear of God in him. He never wanted to have to see you smile like that again. To wear a mask around him. "But if you're going to be catching up with your lady friend I totally understand, we can always reschedule--"

"I'm not," he cut you off, frantically placing his hands on your shoulders. Part of him was fearful that if he didn't, you would have just slipped away. "Of course we're still on for tonight. I just--Won't I see you in class?" He was tripping over his own words, trying to get them out fast enough that you'd know he was far from wanting to cancel plans with you.

In fact he wanted to make more plans with you, if he could.

"Oh…right…" you said in an exhale, your features twisting into a sheepish expression. "Tiny thing…I took the exception exams. And I passed. I'm pretty much done with--Well, everything, really. Except this portfolio. I technically don't have to attend any more classes unless I just want to be a nuisance to our instructors. Or annoy the living daylights out of you."

There was another pinch in his chest as the information sunk in. Now he was going to have even less time with you? He must have pissed off some deity of confused and conflicted emotions, because they were making it increasingly difficult for him to find the time with you so he could make sense of what exactly it was he was feeling.

Why every time he saw you all he wanted was to have you right next to him. To put his arm around you, not even to tell every onlooker that you were with him, but rather just to feel you there with him.

Why the moment you parted ways all he could think about was when he would see you again, his thumbs hovering over the buttons on his mobile, itching to send you a message. To make plans for the next day. For the weekend.

For after graduation, wherever that would take you.

"That's…that's wonderful news, Y/N. Truly. No one in our class has worked harder than you. No one deserves a breather more. I'll see you tonight, then."

He wanted to place a kiss on your forehead. Or perhaps your cheek. But the fear set in again that if he did, that was a bell he couldn't unring, and he wasn't even fully aware what bell it even was to begin with. So instead he handed you his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

"In case you get cold."

There was a glimmer of something in your eye before you gave him a soft, warm smile, the kind that started to show that little dimple in your cheek. A real smile. The kind he'd been dreaming about seeing on your face when he pulled away after kissing you.

"Thanks, Goldie. Try not to take a nap during the lectures."

He stayed at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Faculty of English building until you'd made your way inside, offering him a tiny wave before the doors closed. There were words at the tip of his tongue, itching to be said, that was pure uncharted territory for him.

The mere thought of commitment scared the living daylights out of him; this wasn't his forte. Never had been. He wasn't the kind that thought about cleaning his apartment and making room in his drawers and counters for your things. The kind that only thought about spending the foreseeable future with one woman and deleting every other contact in his phone that he'd collected over the years for short lived flings.

He wasn't the type that planned for the long haul, the kind that wanted to be someone's husband.

And yet for you…he wanted to be that type of man. He wanted to go on an adventure with you that wouldn't last a few fleeting days.

The sound of Eric and Marcus chuckling as he approached the lecture halls brought him back to the present, his blood turning cold when he saw who it was they were laughing with.

"Oh look there he is! Oaks! Look who popped by for a visit." Marcus waved him over, Eric making crude gestures behind both him and Anna. There was an unease in the older woman's eyes as he approached, as if part of her knew that coming here, finding some out of left field manner to insert herself into his life, had crossed a line in the sand that he'd never thought of drawing.

In truth he'd thought that the boundaries were implicit enough when they all parted ways a week ago. He was wrong.

"What're you doing here, Anna?" There was no warmth in his tone, her smile immediately dropping when she realized that he wouldn't be one for niceties. Not anymore.

"I--Well my calls weren't coming through and I'd begun to worry and since I was traveling and passing by the area--"

"Well then isn't that sweet, Oaks, the lovely Anna here was worried about you--"

"Too worried," he butted in again, the grim and unimpressed expression on his face unmoving. "So you came here to…what then, exactly? Did you have hopes of starting back up what never should have been back in Italy?"

"Oakley, darling, why are you like this--"

"I'm not your darling," he snarled, his nostrils flaring with the anger starting to boil up inside him. There's only one woman I wish to call me that and she barely even wishes to look at me since you invaded our morning. "I made mistakes on that getaway and I have to live with those memories. But I don't appreciate when those memories are trying to once again be present in my life while I'm trying to build for my future."

"Your future?" she repeated, scoffing. "That quaint little thing outside the cafe? I met her. She seems like a nice enough girl. Smells awfully familiar. But Oakley you don't possibly think a girl trying to build her own life would want to already be shackled down by something as defining as being 'your future'? Girls like Y/N--"

"Don't you dare say her name," he cut her off, the older woman immediately clamping her mouth shut. "You don't get to talk about her and belittle her as if she's something beneath you." He stepped closer, standing at his full height and imposing herself in her personal space. "Perhaps I didn't make it clear enough what the boundaries were when we all parted ways, and that's on me. But I'm going to make them clear now. Italy and boyish trysts and letting women barely more than strangers cling to me affectionately? That is firmly in my past. And I won't respond with kindness to anyone that tries to go against my wishes. Am I clear enough now?"

She could barely meet his eyes, fidgeting in place like she was trying to fight against the instinct to back away. But she insisted on her own convictions. "Y-You're young, you-you don't possibly know what or who you want yet, you need g-guidance--"

"I know who I want and it's not you." He'd begun to raise his voice, passersby stopping in their tracks and turning their heads to watch the commotion. "This will be the last time I repeat myself. What happened in Italy is my past. And there is only room for one woman in my future. And you met her outside the cafe. Must I make myself any clearer for you?" She shook her head mutely, already shuffling away to the side.

"I-I understand," she stammered. "I hope she'll make you happy."

"She will," he shot back without missing a beat. "If she even gives me a chance after whatever it is you might have told her." She gave him a single nod, waving a final goodbye to his friends before awkwardly stepping further backward and away from them. "One more thing, Anna. It'd be wise for you to lose my number. I had yours blocked. That's why your calls weren't going through." Her face fell even further, eyes misting over. "At the very least you deserve some semblance of closure. There you go."

He walked away before she or anyone else could say anything further, the faint sound of his mates giving her a haphazard goodbye registering in his ears before he heard their heavy stomping footsteps as they caught up to him.

"Bit cold, Oaks."

"She wasn't getting the hint," he deadpanned. "Coulda been nicer, I'll admit that. But I also coulda been worse. Considering she was beginning to belittle Y/N like that."

"So…Y/L/N, huh?" Marcus queried, trying to change the course of the conversation. "Got your whole life with her all planned out and everything?"

"Yep. Y/N," he answered, unable to help the smile that stretched across his face even saying your name. "And maybe not everything. Not yet. All I know is wherever I'm going, I wanna be going there with her. No one else."

"Well, mate, it's about bloody time," Eric quipped, clapping both his hands on Oakley's shoulders. "Slight problem…doesn't she kinda see you as just…oh I don't know, a friend?"

"Yeah…I was hoping you two could take a pause from your dick wetting trips in Sorority Row and help me with that. Make her see me as something other than…well, whatever the fuck she's seen since Freshman Year." He felt so awkward even admitting it to these two. He needed help with a girl. No. A woman.

Quite possibly the last woman, if things went his way.

The sound of the egg timer going off jolted you and Oakley out of your last review session for the night, handing each other back the articles you'd been peer-reviewing for the past half hour. "Goldie, you know you were supposed to critique these, right? I'm finding no marks on any of these."

"That's because I couldn't find any parts to critique," he answered. He couldn't help but smile watching your mouth form into a pout at his words, brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the page, no doubt critiquing your own work now. He grabbed the ultra-fine tip dark green pen from your hand before it could touch the paper. "Your work is concise, and yet offers explanations where needed without going on for too long. There's no part that felt it went on for ages or needed more meat to it. My honest opinion? Your works are borderline perfect even Laing would be proud."

You let out a little hmph, looking over the pages again. "Funny that Laing said nearly the same thing," you muttered, shaking your head at the words you were scanning over. "But there has to be something--"

"Y/N," he cut you off, giving a gentle but firm tug to the papers to get them out of your hands. "If even Professor Stick in the Mud Immovable Object Laing said that it's perfect as it is, take the win and just use the rest of your time to…I don't know, kick back? Get some sleep? You're beginning to get bags under your eyes and if they go any further you can start carrying your books around in them."

He reached over to trace the curved line under your eyes with his finger to emphasize his point, causing you to break out into that lilting laugh that he adored from you. You swatted away his hand, sticking your tongue out at him. "You just want me to stop working on mine so I can help you with yours."

Oakley only responded with holding his hands up in surrender, giving you a slight shrug. "Only partly guilty as charged, darling." He bit the inside of his cheek at the endearment that slipped out. It felt too natural, rolling off his tongue with as much ease as his next breath. "Rest first. Then if I get another batch of red pages from Professor Adams I'll ask for your help. I wanna at least try to get through this without calling in the cavalry."

"The Cavalry…" you repeated, drawling out each syllable as a your smile grew even wider. Brighter. "How flattering." You stretched your arms upward, finally letting out a yawn. The fabric of your pajama top rose to expose your stomach from the motion, making you quickly put your arms down when the cold air hit your skin. "So erm…like always? Help me with the couch?"

Your ask brought to surface a rather unfortunate circumstance. "Right, about the couch…Eric stayed over a couple days ago, absolutely shit-faced and…" He made a motion to simulate throwing up, making your face scrunch up in terror. "I haven't gotten around to seeing if I can get it cleaned yet--"

"Cleaned?!" you shrieked, horror coloring your features when you realized that all he'd done was wipe away the sick, turn the cushion to the other side, and spray a mix of Febreze and bleach to the area. "Oakley, if I were you, I'd use that shiny trust fund that you're trying to deplete faster than it earns interest into throwing this one out and getting an entirely new couch."

"I'll work on getting it cleared out of here first thing in the morning," he swore, making you break out into a smile when he held up his hand in a scout's honor. "You can go ahead and crash in my room, and I'll take the couch tonight. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you earlier, it completely slipped my mind--"

"Nonsense, I'm not kicking you out of your own bedroom, Goldie. And making you sleep on cushions with dried up sick in it is just cruel and unusual punishment, I won't stand for it." You stood from your seat at the table, putting your things away in your book bag. "I appreciate the offer, but if this is the hand we've been dealt, then maybe we won't be able to stick to the usual schedule of an all-nighter tonight. How's about I head back to my dorm and I'll just swing by in the morning--"

"Y/N have you lost your lid, it's dark out," he blurted out, panic rising in him at the thought of you going out and walking back at this hour. "Well after dark, actually. Most of the lights outside have been shut off since the shops closed hours ago."

You huffed out a long breath, placing your hands on your hips and wracking your brain for another solution. "Well then if this is the hand that we're dealt, I suppose we'll have to sleep at the very edges of your bed, then."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "Pardon?" The same bed? With you? He might just lose out on every urge to hold you in his arms through the night. Or kiss you.

"I don't know, it's the only idea coming to me short of me sleeping on the rug--"

"You're not sleeping on the ground," he said sternly, his tone visibly taking you aback. "Pick a side then, right or left?"

"Right," you answered him after a few beats.

Oakley hadn't slept a wink that night, whereas you had no issues slipping right into slumber within minutes of easing yourself into your side of the bed, unwittingly giving him the most vivid glimpse into what a life, a future with you would be like. Especially when just under an hour after your breathing had evened out, you rolled on to your side and your sleeping form had draped your arm across his stomach, snuggling into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

His breath caught in his throat, trying to fight the tears that pricked in the back of his eyes as more visions of what your life together could look like. As the words that he stomped back down his throat every time they threatened to come out finally stumbled clumsily from his lips the moment he placed his arm around you, tracing along your cheekbone with his other hand.

"I love you," he whispered, taking every ounce of his strength not to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, settling for tracing his finger along the bridge of it instead. "I don't know what I want for the rest of my life yet, but I know who I want to be there with me for the journey and it's you. It can only ever be you."

He pressed a ghost of a kiss to your forehead, holding you close as you slept through the night. All the while he was making a list in his head of arrangements to make for after graduation. For his future. And perhaps, if you felt the same, your future together.

Starting with a two-bedroom apartment for the two of you to move into once you were finished with this final semester.

A/N: A sequel to this story is already up for y'all to enjoy in the form of 'just another memory', so we all already know what becomes of Oakley and Reader in this story 🥹 Also there won't be anything that becomes of Reader and ✨Professor Laing✨…at least not the Reader from this story, because she's already very much down bad for Goldie Long Legs

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#oakley #oakley x reader #unrelated #tom hiddleston x reader #muddyorbs writes

[beenbaanbuun]

lord huron songs w/ateez

so listen…. i know i said nothing for a few days but sometimes your brain just thinks if something and then you have to do it because if you don’t you’ll forget about it!! anyway… i love lord huron so…

kim hongjoong - louisa

“i’m glad i met you,” hongjoong whispers to you one night as the two of you lie side by side on the hood of his car. whilst you lie watching the stars, distracted by the way the twinkle, hongjoong keeps his gaze firmly on you. the way the moonlight hits your skin has his heart beating at an unnatural rate; if he were to sit here and stare at you for much longer, he doesn’t doubt it would explode in his chest.

“yeah?” you murmur, voice sounding like a wind chime, bringing music and joy to his otherwise stormy life. he sighs, basking in the gentle sound for just a moment. “i’m glad i met you too,” you hum. hongjoong just shakes his head.

you’ll never know how he feels about you because you have a life outside of him. you have brightness and purpose; a job that you love and friends that care for you. you have happiness and passion; he has you and that’s all. monotony and routine take up his day to day, his simple nine to five slowly taking his resolve to pieces bit by bit. ‘good for nothing’ is how he sees himself and that’s how he’ll be remembered. he can only be glad that he met you when he did because now when he passes on in 60 years instead of just soon, loving husband will lie on his gravestone too.

he smiles at you brightly at the thought of you taking him by the hand and pulling him from the grave that he’s already dug for himself. your sweet words and gentle kisses helped him fill in the hole and pat the dirt back down. your tenderness and love spread the seeds and helped the grass grow back over the disturbed ground. it didn’t take long for that grave to become a thing of the past; a well kept secret that hongjoong would never share with another living soul.

he may have died, but your loving raised him.

park seonghwa - la belle fleur sauvage

the beat-up truck that sits outside of seonghwa’s stuffy office block sticks out like a sore thumb, the woman inside of it drawing the attention of each passer by. you don’t belong there, but perhaps that’s why people like to stop and stare. with beauty unmatched and a personality that even the strongest man couldn’t tame, you were nothing more than a fantasy to most of them. not to him, though. not to seonghwa.

he shrugs his suit jacket off and tosses it into the backseat through the open window. it’s lands with a thud, the expensive fabric all crumpled and disheveled. a year ago, the idea of treating his possessions so carelessly would’ve killed him, but as he crawls into the passenger seat, all he can think about is the woman sitting prettily behind the wheel.

“you know, you really don’t have to pick me up from work,” he chuckles as the door shuts behind him. “i appreciate the gesture, my little wildflower, but it’s a little far out of your way, isn’t it?”

you shrug as you start up the ignition, the rattly engine roaring to life.

“when has something being out of reach ever stopped me?” you muse, shifting the truck into gear, “you should know by now that it’ll take a lot more than a little car journey to keep me away from what i want.”

“am i what you want?” he teases, voice lilting prettily as he watches you try to hide your smile. he knows that if you didn’t have to keep your eyes on the road, you’d be sending him a look sharp enough to kill. though, even with that wildness in your eyes, seonghwa can’t think of a more beautiful person on this earth.

jeong yunho - fool for love

there’s a knock at your door, three loud thuds and then silence. a brief look towards the clock tells you that it’s late, but you can’t find it in you to worry. the danger of whoever is behind your door seems to be outweighed by your curiosity; who could possibly be coming to see you at such an hour? you shuffle to the door with determination, pyjama pants dragging along your floorboards as you search for the answer to your question.

your hand finds the doorknob, tugging at it lightly until the door swings open, a dear friend of yours waiting behind it. with a grin on your face, you go to greet him, but before a single word can slip from your tongue, his lips press against yours. it takes you by surprise, and yet somehow you don’t mind it; all it takes is a second or two until you’re kissing him back.

and then he pulls back, chest heaving with each death breath he pulls through his swollen lips. you brush a thumb against them, wiping away your spit.

“i’m leaving,” he says, as if that explains everything, “i’m skipping town and i… i need you with me… please.”

it’s not hard for you to pack your bags. in fact you’d say it’s rather easy. perhaps too much so to say that you’re saying goodbye to everything you’ve ever known. and as yunho loads your belongings into the back seat of his car, you can’t help but smile as you lock your door for the final time.

kang yeosang - until the night turns

you wake up from a dreamless slumber to your boyfriend staring down at you, tears in the corners of his eyes and a rattled expression painted over his pretty features. you frown at him, wearily lifting a hand to wipe away the droplets that had begin to make a path down the side of his face. in your hazy state, there’s not much more you can convince yourself to do; you hope that your wordless comfort is enough to settle him a little.

“i had a bad dream,” he explains, deep voice wavering like a scared child, “the world was ending and i just,” he cuts himself off with a sigh, “it sounds silly but i wanted to spend my last few hours with you.”

you can’t help but give him an amused smile. only he would let such a silly dream get to him this much, your sweet boy. it’s clear he needs comfort, and even with your brain only working at half the speed it should, you’re quick to tug him close and wrap him up in your arms; if it’s comfort he wants, then it’s comfort he’ll get. your lips find his temple.

“we can stay awake until the sun rises,” you offer, voice gravelly with sleep. he hums in appreciation as he huddles in closer.

“but what if the world does end?” his voice is pitiful and weak. you give him one long squeeze with your arms.

“then at least we’ll be together when it does.”

choi san - the man who lives forever

“you know how people say that no one wants to live forever?” san murmurs to you one morning. the two of you have yet to move from his bed, despite the clock on the nightstand letting you know that moon is rapidly approaching. the alarm has rang through the room at least thrice, and yet neither of you have dared to slip from the other’s arms. perhaps its what you both need, a full day of nothing, drowning in one another’s love. “i think i’d want to if you were with me.”

the words make you lift your gaze, your head that rests on his bare chest pivoting until you can see his face. it’s set in stone, expression deadly serious as he declares his intentions to live forever with you by his side. a petite grin finds its way to your lips.

“oh yeah?” you taunt, “and why is that?”

a large hand finds its way to the top of your head, gentle fingers caressing your hair as the man they belong to mulls over his thoughts. his expression twists thoughtfully as he pieces together what he wants to say. he’s handsome like this, not that he isn’t all the time. its just that the way his nose scrunches and his lips purse make you realise just how cute he is. you could fall in love with him all over again.

“because i think i could live in this moment with you until the day i die, and i’d still think it was too short,” his nails scrape against your scalp in a way that makes you instantly relax. you curl up into his body with a hum. “i want to have you in my arms until the sun explodes and takes us with it, and i’m not even sure that’ll be long enough.”

song mingi - moonbeam

“i had a dream about you last night,” mingi hums as you pass him a bowl of popcorn in preparation for your bi-monthly movie marathon. you toss yourself down onto the couch beside him, leaning in close as you grab a fist-full of popcorn and begin to slowly feed yourself. he takes your silence as a gesture for him to continue, popping a piece of the snack between his lips first. “yeah, it started off as a nightmare and then you came along and made it all better.”

you snort at the idea of saving your best friend from whatever demons choose to haunt his nights. you can’t imagine it’s anything too frightening; the big baby gets intimidated by the smallest of things. it really wouldn’t take much for you to be his night in shining armour.

“and how did i make everything better?” your voice is teasing as it comes out, but you genuinely are curious about the answer. you let your gaze meet his, taking no notice of how close his face is to yours. if you thought about it for more than a millisecond, you might have registered the way you can feel his warm breath against your face, or the way his pupils keep flicking between looking you in the eye and looking down at your pink lips.

“you kissed me,” he whispers, and despite your proximity, you barely hear it. “and suddenly everything was okay. all my bad thoughts were gone and it was just… you.”

you look at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to his confession. of course, it’s a shock to hear something like that from your best friend, but that’s not to say it’s unwelcome. he chuckles lowly at the way you stare at him.

“oh, don’t look at me like that,” he inches even closer, lips barely grazing against your own, “you can’t tell me you can’t see how much i want to love you.”

jung wooyoung - cursed

wooyoung moans into the kiss that you press against his mouth. hot and mouth wateringly delicious, he can’t seem to get enough of the way your lips feel against him. it’s like you’ve laced your lipgloss with cocaine or something because at this point, it’s an addiction, and try as he might, he can’t seem to kick it.

at this point, he isn’t even sure he wants to.

“holy fuck,” he mumbles against you, opening his eyes for just a brief moment so he can take you in in all your glory. puffy wet lips, swollen from all the lust and passion wooyoung had put into the kiss. a pretty pink tongue darts out to lap at the layer of his spit that glazes them, and he feels his brain go foggy. “i think you’ve cast a spell on me or something, baby. it’s the only reasonable explanation for why i’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

his lips find yours once more, tongue intertwining easily with yours. they play with one another for a short while before he lets you take over, relaxing his jaw a little to let you lazily lick into his mouth. something about you taking him up on his offer of control has him groaning into your mouth. you’re so adorable, even when you’re in charge.

“i’ve not done anything,” you whisper against his open mouth, pulling away ever so slightly to catch your breath, “it’s hardly my fault you took one at me and decided to make it your life’s mission to worship me.”

“shut up, brat,” he chuckles against you, chasing your lips with his own, “i wouldn’t feel the need to worship you if you hadn’t laid some sort of curse on me.”

choi jongho - mine forever

“if you never want to see my face again, i’ll understand,” the weak voice warbles from the other side of your door. it hurts to listen to after the fight you had last night, the wounds still fresh and aching. it’s even worse to listen to when you know your boyfriend doesn’t so easily cry, and yet here he is, sobbing on your doorstep. you swallow the lump in your throat, wiping your own tears away in a desperate attempt to pull yourself together. “just please, give me closure so i know how you feel.”

if you weren’t so upset, the situation would’ve probably made you laugh. it had been less than 24 hours since you walked out of his apartment and walked it back to yours, and yet the poor boy was acting like you’d left him with nothing for weeks. even despite the pain that swims through your veins, you can’t help but find his dramatics adorable, and you find a small smile gracing your lips as you finally move to unlock the door.

he looks a state, red, puffy eyes, hair matted and stuck to his forehead, lips chapped and bloody. you want to hold him in your arms, comfort him through his suffering. then you remember he caused this suffering himself, as well as all the pain that resides in your own chest. you fold your arms in front of you.

“you look like shit,” are the first words to leave your lips. he just stares at you blankly.

“i can’t sleep without you,” is all he says in response.

“you mean you haven’t slept since last night?” he shakes his head, and you feel your heart crack just a little. so much for pulling yourself together.

“i can’t live without you, baby,” he whispers as you invite him into your arms, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “and i’m too young to die.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez headcanons

[geekgirles]

The Doll and the Dragon

Chapter 5: Brown Eyes, Blue Eyes, Green Eyes

Word Count: 29,752

Read on AO3

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Chapter Summary: "Tensions rise when an emissary from Bonta invites the Eliatrope King, his siblings, and especially the Divine Doll living with them to an official event in Bonta, and the fact that Yugo and Amalia's relationship hasn't been quite the same since they came back from their little adventure certainly doesn't help. But things only get more complicated when the appearance of a new rival makes Yugo's blood run cold."

He was mesmerised the moment she stepped into the room. It was as if she alone reflected all the light shining down on them, drawing it to her body and leaving everything else in total darkness.

She was indeed a beacon of light and hope amidst the miserable hole that had become of his existence in the last few centuries. And all because he’d learned too late you couldn’t rely on anyone but yourself. 

Oh, but when his eyes first landed on her, he knew he had finally found the one person who truly deserved to be by his side. Just one wayward look from her brown eyes had been enough to melt his frozen heart, breathing new life into an old carcass whose only single-minded focus had been his people’s protection and well-being. How much they would be able to benefit, having her ruling by his side. Just one look at her was all he needed to know she was the key to solving every single misfortune ailing his people. 

She was simply exquisite. His fingers itched to reach out to her and be able to run his hands up and down her body, marvelling at the unparalleled softness of her mahogany skin; kneading her supple flesh until every inch of her skin was covered with his fingertips. He couldn’t help but bite his own lip at the sight of hers, pouty and plump, beckoning him to bite down on them and taste her. How did he burn to weave his fingers through her forest-green locks, the idea of inhaling her soft fragrance almost enough to bring him over the edge. 

She was simply divine. A true gift from the gods. Her tantalising, childbearing hips swayed back and forth in a most alluring dance, drawing all eyes to her scrumptious figure even as it was hidden from view with those rags he made her wear. 

His gaze turned dark as he left his beloved’s sight to settle on him. So aloof, so distant, so indifferent. So unworthy of her. He didn’t know the true extent of the challenges one must face for his people. He couldn’t treat such a vision of loveliness like she deserved to be treated. He didn’t deserve her.

And there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make her his. 

.....................................................................................................................

Yugo had had no way of knowing the chain of events that day would unravel. In fact, not even Chibi would have been able to predict the turn things were about to take that day. 

The Eliatrope King and his siblings were gathered at the council room, having their first non-Amalia-related meeting practically since she arrived, when he was overtaken by a strong sense of déjà vu. Right as Shinonomé was in the midst of giving her and Qilby’s report on their latest findings on a medicinal herb they’d been growing, the doors burst open, a very disgruntled-looking member of their elite guard panting as he struggled to catch his breath. 

His eyes were wide with shock. 

Before Phaeris could even finish demanding an explanation for why he would interrupt a Council meeting, the guard managed to blurt out an answer that chilled them to their very core: 

“An… an emissary from…from Bonta is here… He… He wishes to…to see you, Your Majesty.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Yugo had already teleported out of the room, his pace brisk and alert at this unexpected development. The pit in his stomach only grew worse when the guard informed him of the emissary’s extraordinary abilities—he only demanded an audience with their king after beating most of the elite guards single-handedly. 

In the midst of such worrisome news, Yugo couldn’t help but be impressed. If he really was that good, then how come he hadn’t been sent alongside the rest of this world’s heroes to face him last time? The thrill-seeking part of him couldn’t help but muse about how that might have actually made things more interesting back then. 

When he finally made it in front of the gates guarding the throne room, the Eliatrope made the split-second decision of not entering through them. That was what their ‘guest’ would have been expecting, after all, and he wasn’t in the mood to entertain any intruders. So, with a snap of his fingers, a portal materialised right underneath his feet and transported him right above his throne, allowing him to land on top of his seat with practised ease. 

Much like what happened the last time they had company, Yugo certainly hadn’t been expecting what stood right in the middle of the room. 

Bonta’s emissary was a remarkably small man, even shorter than Glip. He wore a patched-up grey romper and slippers, with a leather belt adorned by a rather large metal buckle. Beige fingerless gloves covered his hands, and a short-sleeved dark blue coat with a fur collar was draped over his form. He seemed to carry some sort of wooden backpack on his back. 

But the strangest thing of all was his skin. It was dark, remarkably dark. But it wasn’t like Amalia’s mahogany skin. No. Bonta’s ambassador was black as coal from head-to-toe, the only exception was his pointy, grey nose. Even his eyes were black! Truth be told, it took Yugo a minute to realise that, no, his coat’s hood—which was adorned by two woolly antennae—didn’t obscure his face; his face was pitch black, too!

Not for the first time since their arrival, the Eliatrope King quietly wondered to himself just where on the Krozmos his people ended up. The World of Twelve could not be considered normal. First, living dolls sent by the gods, and now this. 

Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. 

As Yugo and Bonta’s emissary entered a staring contest, both of them willing the other to break the silence first, several flashes of light followed by the sound of someone landing on the floor was all Yugo needed to know his siblings had arrived. The king didn’t even have to break eye contact with their uninvited guest to know Adamaï was hovering beside him. 

Finally, Yugo had had enough. 

“I sure hope you have a good explanation for your intrusion, Mister…?”

“I’m known amongst the Twelvians as Master Joris, Your Majesty.” The emissary, Joris, responded immediately, lowering his body as a sign of respect. “And with all due respect, I believe you should find my explanation more than satisfactory.”

“That I have a hard time imagining.” Yugo commented with a raised eyebrow, before his expression turned dark. “After all, you seem to have attacked some of my guards and trespassed on our property.” 

Joris’ voice remained eerily calm even as he explained himself, “I apologise if any harm has befallen your people, King Yugo, but I was tasked with a mission and fulfilling it is my highest priority.”

“Oh.” It was Adamaï who spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he regarded the ambassador cautiously. “And pray tell, Master Joris, whatever could it be?”

He remained as stone-faced as ever. When he slung his log-backpack out of his shoulders, the Council tensed up immediately, each and every one of them taking on defensive and offensive positions in case the little man tried anything. However, the aggression in their eyes was replaced by pure shock when Master Joris simply placed his backpack on the floor next to him as he lowered himself on one knee as a sign of respect. 

And even that was nothing compared to their astonishment at his next words:

“Queen Astra of Bonta has sent me here to inquire about the Sadida woman living on the island with you.”

At that revelation, Yugo almost choked on his own spit. All around him, his siblings shared worried, perplexed glances at the accusation, even if they tried to hide their surprise around their ‘guest’. A Sadida woman? What? They hadn’t had any contact with the outside world since the Twelvians sent their warriors after him! Where in the Great Goddess’ name did they get that idea from—?

And then the truth dawned on him. 

Amalia.

While it was true Amalia looked indiscernible from a human, she most certainly was not. Her presenting herself in her doll form the very first time they met more than confirmed that. But that still didn’t explain why Bonta’s queen was so certain they harboured a Sadida woman with them. More importantly, it didn’t explain how they’d come to be privy to that piece of information.

If he wanted answers, he would have to be very careful with his wording. 

“I’m afraid I’m obligated to inform you that no Sadida woman lives here, Master Joris.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie. 

Master Joris narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly. He understood what was going on here. You didn’t become one of the queen of Bonta’s most trusted envoys without learning a thing or two about high politics, after all. If he wanted answers, he would have to provide some of his own until he managed to gather enough intel. 

“With all due respect, my King,” He started, his head bowed in order to appear non-threatening. Although he had to admit it might be too late for that after his treatment of their guards. “We were informed of her presence by some Cra soldiers that were flying over the area. I do not know how deep your knowledge is on the races populating our world, Your Majesty, but a Cra’s sight is second to none, and their sense of honour is unparalleled.” Joris finally raised his head to look deep into the Eliatrope’s eye, his words laced with the utmost seriousness and sincerity. “They would never lie about something like this.”

Yugo’s eyes widened like saucers at his words as they finally provided him with the missing piece to complete the puzzle, and he could sense his siblings had the same reaction. The Cra sentinels from a few weeks ago! But when could they have seen—? But of course! Phaeris informed him of their ‘visit’ the very same day he and Adamaï took Amalia out of the palace. They must have caught sight of her then!

As he gathered his thoughts, Efrim snarled at the emissary, and for once his king was grateful for his distrusting nature, “And what exactly were those Cra doing around our territory in the first place? Does their strong sense of honour not apply to spying on others?”

However, Joris remained unperturbed, meeting the dragon’s accusatory glare with a stony glance of his own. “Rest assured, this has nothing to do with your people being spied on.” He wisely chose not to comment on how, technically speaking, Oma Island wasn’t their territory; they just claimed it for themselves and no one had been willing to take it back yet. “Cra are often sent on reconnaissance all around the World of Twelve. Their stumbling across your people was not their intention.”

Their suspicion hung heavily in the air. While Nora kept her brother from acting rashly, the rest of the Council members all tried to convey the same thing to Yugo through their eyes: “We cannot risk causing further trouble with the Twelvians, find out what he wants and send him away.”

Which was much easier said than done after what Master Joris said next, “It was during one of those missions when, trying to use their eyesight to better locate themselves, they saw a young Sadida woman by your side, Your Majesty.”

His hands clutching at the armrest of his throne for support, Yugo forced himself to remain as composed as possible, knowing how showing too much emotion could have terrible consequences.  

“I understand, Master Joris. However, I maintain we do not have a Sadida woman with us. Those Cra soldiers were mistaken.”

Once again, Master Joris’ whole demeanour remained unchanged. He had seen far too much in his long life to let himself be swayed so easily. “Your Majesty, I beg you to listen to what I have to say: a Cra’s eyes are never mistaken. The other kingdoms are already aware of the situation and on high alert, especially the Sadida Kingdom. They fear you might have taken one of their own.”

Or a betrayal, it’s what went unsaid, but everyone heard it loud and clear nonetheless. 

“If you do not return her to her people or, at the very least, explain why she is here with you, this could result in war.” Joris sentenced, his eyes severe as he implored the Eliatropes to see reason. And yet, despite himself, the dark-skinned Bontarian couldn’t help the feeling of apprehension taking hold of his heart and squeezing it tight. 

Given the outcome of sending their greatest warriors to battle King Yugo, he sincerely feared the Twelvians would fail despite the overwhelming odds in their favour. 

The chance of living in peace with the Twelvians slipping from his fingers right under his nose, Yugo was left with no choice but to make a rash decision. His siblings, especially Adamaï, could chew him out for it later. 

Praying to the Great Goddess that this wouldn’t come back to bite him, he finally said, “We don’t have a Sadida woman living with us.”

Joris barely suppressed the urge to sigh and shake his head ruefully. So that was it, huh? They’d rather face war than come clean. Queen Astra would not like this, and Prince Armand would most likely throw a fit at their insolence, and while King Oakheart would try to remain level-headed and composed, even he would not be able to let this offence go. They were going to war. 

“Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.” Master Joris bowed his head one last time before raising to his feet. However, just as he was about to grab hold of his backpack and be on his way, his fingers froze at the king’s next words just as he was about to reach for the handle:

“She is a Divine Doll sent by the gods themselves as a sign of good will. We have not caused the Sadida nation any harm.”

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Joris allowed himself to lose his composure. Whirling back around to face the Eliatrope monarch—and noting the discreet, astounded looks the blue-and-white dragon by his side sent him—, he couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice. 

“What did you just say, Your Majesty?”

For once, it was Yugo who remained unperturbed. “The young woman the Cra saw isn’t a Sadida.” He paused, weighing his next words carefully. “Well, not exactly. She is a Divine Doll that was sent to us by the gods about two months ago. She’s been living with us ever since.”

Joris could not believe his own ears. A Divine Doll, sent to the World of Twelve? After all this time? He had to be sure the Eliatrope King knew what he was talking about. He simply could not know the significance those dolls held to their world. 

“A Divine Doll, you say? And pray tell, which one of Sadida’s ten dolls lives on Oma alongside you, my King?”

Yugo braced himself for what was sure to come next. “His eleventh doll, Amalia.”

Bonta’s emissary almost had to do a double take. Then, he blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. He implored the gods to give him some kind of sign he had heard him wrong. He had to have heard him wrong. There was simply no way he actually said there was an eleventh doll. Had Prince Armand been there, he would have already attacked the Eliatrope with a giant carnivorous plant for daring to disgrace his culture so brazenly. 

“Your Majesty, I’m afraid that is impossible. Sadida only made ten dolls back in the Primitive Era.” He forced his voice to remain as even as possible, choosing his words very carefully. It looked like they indeed had taken a Sadida prisoner and were either mocking their beliefs or she had lied about her identity. For what purpose, he could only wonder. 

“Perhaps that is so.” The new voice forced Joris to turn around in surprise. It belonged to an older-looking Eliatrope with a white tunic and glasses. “Indeed, from what I’ve gathered, Sadida created ten dolls in the Primitive Era, but I believe my king never said anything about this doll being from then.”

The Bontarian furrowed his brow, intrigued. “What are you implying, Master…?”

“Qilby.” He supplied simply, his tone far too affable for the kind of bombshells he was dropping. “And I’m simply speaking the truth, Master Joris. Our dear doll was not created in the Primitive Era, but she was made especially for our king.”

Qilby’s claim feeling like a suckerpunch, he only vaguely registered what the bespectacled Eliatrope said next, “Yugo hasn’t lied once during this entire conversation, Master Joris. The woman the Cra soldiers saw is not a Sadida, yet she is indeed Sadida’s eleventh doll.”

If what they were saying was true… That, that changed everything. He had to make sure. He had to see her with his own two eyes before he risked causing a commotion amongst the Twelvians. If Sadida had truly created a new Divine Doll after all this time… It would shake the very foundations of their civilisation. 

His resolution unshakable, he turned once again to face the King of the Eliatropes, “Your Majesty, I request an audience with this Divine Doll.”

Yugo could feel himself bristle at the request, his death grip on his throne turning his knuckles white. His whole body went taut at the mere notion of introducing Amalia to the Twelvians. For a moment, he seriously considered declining, but then he looked around him, his dark brown eyes registering everyone staring expectantly back at him. He looked at the few guards remaining, the sight reminding him of the fact that Master Joris had only attacked his subjects because he and his people still didn’t consider the Eliatropes as one of their own. 

And then he thought of Amalia, how her presence was supposed to be a sign of good will, a bridge between the Eliatropes and the races native to the World of Twelve. He almost let out a mirthless chuckle at the reminder. The gods sent Sadida’s most precious flower yet they didn’t do anything to ease their worshippers into accepting them. And then, as if his mother Herself were looking out for him, he remembered Qilby’s words from back when Amalia first entered their lives:

“Not even them would be able to reject our presence for much longer if they learned we have their gods’ blessings.”

Yugo couldn’t help but let out a small gasp at the memory. Loath as he was to admit it sometimes, Qilby’s prodigious memory and his matter-of-factly nature had saved him more than once. They reminded him once again of the place Amalia occupied in their lives:

She was their key to earning the Twelvians’ acceptance. 

Ignoring the strange pang in his chest at his thought process, telling him for some reason that wasn’t quite it, the king eventually allowed a pleased smile to tug at the corner of his lip. With a gracious nod towards Master Joris, he turned to the guard that had warned them of the Bontarian’s visit. “Please, Elias, escort Lady Amalia to the throne room.”

“Yes, my King.” With a deep bow, his arm to his chest, Elias did as he was told. As soon as the portal flickered into existence, he was gone. 

Catching Master Joris standing tall—or, well, as tall as someone so short could stand—and alert as he waited for Amalia to arrive, Yugo couldn’t help but feel a little sheepish. With a clear of his throat to gain his attention, as soon as the emissary’s black eyes flickered over to him, he explained, “My apologies, Master Joris, but I would suggest you get comfortable.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but if Lady Amalia truly is a Divine Doll, then it is imperative I greet her with the respect she is due. Introducing myself to her while sitting down seems hardly appropriate.”

“Oh, and I respect your commitment to protocol, Master Joris. It’s just that it might take them a little while to arrive.”

“I was under the impression that your portals served to transport you from one place to another almost immediately?”

The emissary didn’t miss the way the king and the dragon by his side exchanged meaningful glances. “That is true. However, Amalia will not be coming through a portal.”

Joris quirked an eyebrow at that.

.......................................................................................................................

Saying Amalia fell off her bed in surprise when one of the palace’s elite guards stepped out of a portal and into her room wouldn’t have been right. So the two of them had agreed not to speak a word of the incident. However, that was nothing compared to how taken aback she’d been upon being informed Yugo requested her presence at the throne room. 

As Amalia kindly rejected the guard’s—Elias, he introduced himself as—offer to go through one of his portals and allowed herself to be escorted to the throne room, the doll couldn’t help but let her mind wander. The current state of her relationship with the Eliatrope King at the forefront of her mind. 

The distance he drew between the two of them hadn’t lessened any in the past few weeks. If anything, it only grew a little bit wider each passing day. It was so frustrating, to know the cordiality you were treated with was nothing compared to the warmth you’d once been subjected to. The kindness and care Yugo used to treat her with could put the sun’s rays to shame, whereas now that stiff politeness of him could put out any fire. 

They had yet to have any more meaningful conversations since they returned from the beach, their current interactions amounted to little more than pointless small talk and awkward greetings. The longest the two of them had held a conversation as of late had been when she begged him to talk to Glip and Baltazar about attending their classes. 

Ever since then she shared longer, more meaningful conversations with her classmates, some of whom still had trouble remembering irregular verbs, mind you; than the one person on Oma she thought she could call her friend. 

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated. And mad. Oh, she was so mad at him for daring to give her the cold shoulder without so much of an explanation! One second they were out and about on their first adventure and having a great time, and the next he acted like having her around was physically painful! And now he summoned her to the throne room like nothing happened? Now he wanted to talk to her?

What gives?! 

And why the throne room, of all places!? Couldn’t he have just knocked on her door to talk to her like a normal person? Or, seeing as he was anything but ‘normal’, was it really so hard to visit her balcony and ask for a moment of her time? Apparently it was, for he just had to summon her to the freakin’ throne room like a gobball to the slaughterhouse. 

Stealing a quick glance at Elias’ back, the Divine Doll went to discreetly and quickly rub the side of her face with the back of her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay. More than anything she felt hurt. So terribly, incredibly hurt. Her heart would give an uncomfortable squeeze whenever she dwelled too much on her own loneliness. And yet, she couldn’t help but wrack her brain every night as she went to sleep in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all. But no matter how much she tossed and turned and tortured herself, she always came up empty-handed. She just couldn’t understand. 

All she knew was Yugo was pushing her away and she didn’t even know what she’d done wrong. 

Just as the stinging in her eyes was beginning to become too much to bear and Amalia could feel her throat beginning to constrict into watery sobs, Elias halted abruptly. Looking up in surprise, she saw they had finally made it to the throne room. They’d finally made it to Yugo. 

Placing a hand against the gates, the guard asked her, “Are you ready, Lady Amalia?”

Scrambling to blink her tears away and to smooth out her clothes and touch up her hair, all in an attempt to present herself as put-together as possible despite her turbulent thoughts, Amalia gave him a resolute nod. 

“Yes, I’m ready. Thank you, Elias.”

With a nod of his own, the young guard opened the gates and welcomed her inside. Entering that room for the first time since she first arrived, Amalia let her gaze wander and reacquaintance itself with what lay inside. 

Supporting the weight of the massive oval dome acting as their roof stood eight malachite columns forming an arch, causing the light filtered through the windows to bathe everything in a greenish blue hue. Each of them were separated by what at first glance looked like large stained glass windows but that, upon closer inspection, one could see were actually portals connecting to the different areas around the island to grant their subjects easier access—something she learned from asking Glip about their own portals located around their classroom. 

Standing on the other side of the room, meant to be the first thing you saw upon opening the doors, was a long staircase connected to the throne. Amalia hadn’t seen many in the relatively short time she’d been alive, but she had to admit the sight was as impressive now as it had been when she first arrived. Sculpted in stone, the back of the throne branched into two large and imposing dragon wings; an actual green-coloured stained glass window depicting the Eliatropes’ emblem—a spiral formed by an Eliatrope baby and a dragon cub—could be seen right between the two wings.

Now that she looked more closely, Amalia could make out six hollowed spaces located at specific spots on the wings, but before she could try and discern what they truly were, she was brought back to the present by her heart skipping a beat when she accidentally locked eyes with Yugo. 

Heat coming to her cheeks at their brief interaction, she bashfully turned her head away, reprimanding herself on seemingly forgetting she was supposed to be mad at him. Just as she did that, however, her gaze ended up on a mysterious little man instead, the sight causing her to blink in surprise. This time, she had to bring a hand to her chest at the powerful thud resounding in her ribcage at the sight of him. 

She didn’t know how or why, but this man held a lot of power. She could just feel it. 

Yugo’s voice cut through the fog in her mind, and she had to bite down her bottom lip to prevent herself from sighing. She hated how much she missed the sound of his voice.

“Amalia, allow me to introduce you to Master Joris.” He gestured at the man from his throne. “He’s been sent here on behalf of the queen of Bonta.”

Amalia blinked, shocked. Oh, that… That was new. Shaking her head slightly to gather herself up, she curtsied to their guest. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Joris.”

For his part, Joris had to admit that for the first time in a very long time he was left quite stumped. The young lady before him was a true vision of loveliness, with her soft and delicate features, her silky green hair, her doe-like eyes, and her elegant figure. He had a feeling she had to be the most beautiful Sadida he had ever laid his eyes on. The only one he believed could eclipse her beauty was the late Queen Sheran Sharm, whose hand had been the most coveted amongst the nations until she eventually chose to marry King Oakheart. 

Truth be told, the resemblance was uncanny. 

However, perfect as Lady Amalia looked, she was still just a Sadida. Her complete lack of doll-like attributes like stitches or the leafy headband Divine Dolls were known for were proof enough of her utter lack of divinity. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Amalia.” He greeted back, his manners impeccable even as he feared he was being duped. “Forgive me for being so brazen, my Lady, but His Majesty has informed me of your heritage?”

“My heritage…?” She echoed, not sure where this was going. 

“Indeed. I was told you are Sadida’s eleventh doll.” He explained. “And that you were sent here by the gods?”

Oh, so that was what he meant. Amalia let a small smile grace her features. “That is correct, Master Joris. Father created me to be Yugo’s’ bride.” She stated proudly, completely unaware of the way her declaration had Yugo panicking inside. Okay, he did not mean for that piece of information to slip out. And judging by the way Master Joris’ eyes widened in surprise, there was no way he hadn’t heard her. 

Ignoring the way the Council of Six collectively lost their minds as they tried to figure out how to do damage control of the situation without screaming their lungs out hysterically, Amalia went on, “He says I am his masterpiece.”

Even in the midst of his internal screaming, Yugo couldn’t help but agree with the Leafy God. Amalia was truly a marvel of nature. Regardless of how her sisters had turned out, it was clear the nature god had outdone himself. Which, more often than not, only made his already difficult life harder.

“I am sure Sadida Himself is very proud of the outcome, Your Grace… if what you say it’s true.”

That made her frown, uncertain. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Amalia, but I was sent here to inquire about the sighting of a Sadida woman living on Oma Island alongside the Eliatropes. You see, such a thing could have rather… unfortunate consequences we ought to avoid. Which is why I am here, to make sure there is nothing to worry about.”

“But there isn’t any Sadida woman living on Oma Island…” Amalia muttered, squinting her eyes, uncomprehending. 

“That is what King Yugo said as well, yes.” Joris nodded, before his dark gaze met Amalia’s brown eyes, a small shiver running down her spine at the intensity of his stare. “He explained you’re actually a Divine Doll, but I’m afraid that is something I must verify myself.” Then, raising his palm up, he gestured towards her, “If you don’t mind…”

Despite the rocky state their relationship was in, Amalia found herself staring back at Yugo for guidance. “I don’t understand…”

His heart squeezing in pity at the sight of the doll’s discomfort, Yugo offered, “I believe Master Joris is trying to ask you for some proof that you are indeed a Divine Doll, Amalia.” His voice was so soft and reassuring he surprised even himself.

He tried to ignore the way his siblings exchanged knowing glances as they gestured at him with their heads.

Again, Amalia blinked, only this time she was more surprised at the simplicity of the answer. “Oh, really?” She asked, turning back to the emissary for confirmation.

“If it’s not too much trouble, my Lady…”

While Master Joris remained as stoic and alert as always, his hands behind his back as he awaited for Amalia to prove her identity, the Eliatropes and their dragons braced themselves. Adamaï in particular snapped his mouth tightly shut. They were already used to the doll’s demonstrations of divine power and were half expecting some kind of mystical wind to pick up at any given time and scoop Amalia up while leaving a mess of leaves or flower petals in its wake. 

In fact, they were so ready for some kind of chaos to ensue they couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved when Amalia disappeared behind a harmless puff of smoke instead. Both the Council of Six and Master Joris could only look on, perplexed, as a small brown and green rag doll emerged from the puff of smoke and walked over to Bonta’s emissary. 

As soon as they were just a few inches apart, Amalia smiled up at a speechless Master Joris before bowing down deeply. “As I said, my name is Amalia, Master Joris. I am Sadida’s eleventh Divine Doll. I hope this is enough to prove my identity.”

For his part, Joris just… stared, almost unblinkingly. Okay, even he had to admit this was new. On the bright side, it also proved that Lady Amalia was definitely one of Sadida’s dolls. 

Snapping out of his trance, he cleared his throat a little awkwardly. He returned Amalia’s bow with a small one of his own. “It is more than enough, my Lady. My apologies for doubting you.”

“I trust this is enough to assuage your queen and the other nations’ concerns?” Yugo stated, his demeanour outwardly calm despite the undercurrent of powerful emotions running below his skin. He didn’t even have to look to know his siblings shared the same fears: the last thing their people needed was another war for their right to exist. 

Which is why a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders when Master Joris nodded in response. “Rest assured, Your Majesty. This should be enough to put our rulers at ease.” But just as Yugo and his siblings were about to release a sigh of relief, the emissary’s next words caused them to stiffen up again, “However, I hope you will understand I must inform them of Lady Amalia’s true nature. This kind of development, Sire, is… It’s truly astounding for our people, you see.”

“I understand.” The Eliatrope barely suppressed the urge to groan and rub his face in aggravation. Still, there was something he had to ask. “But do tell me, Master Joris, will this affect my people and our relationship with your leaders in any way?”

“All I can say for certain, King Yugo, is that they will surely grow interested. As I said, Lady Amalia’s presence is a very serious matter.”

“Do you mean my presence might cause problems?” Amalia inquired with a worried hand to her chest, her doll-like appearance only showcasing the vulnerability she was displaying at that moment. She had mostly remained silent during the two men’s exchange, but her worries had spiked up at the thought of causing trouble for the Eliatropes. 

Distantly, Yugo couldn’t help but notice it was kind of adorable… Before realising what he was thinking and forcing himself to focus on the conversation at hand with a shake of his head.

Master Joris was quick to raise his hands in a placating manner. “Oh, no, my Lady. It’s not that. Trust me, no Twelvian would be foolish enough to try anything against one of Sadida’s dolls.” From the corner of his eye, Yugo could see Nora releasing a sigh of relief at that. He honestly felt the same way, as it meant their people should be safe as long as Amalia was with them. His eyes flickered back to the ambassador when the Bontarian added, “Although I should probably warn you your presence will warrant their interest in you. Expect more news from Bonta in the near future.” He told that last part to Yugo, turning to meet him directly in the eye. 

“We will, Master Joris. Thank you for your visit.” It’s what he said, but deep down Yugo was far too occupied begging Eliatrope to let this be a one-time thing. 

And thus, with one last polite bow to both the king and his bride, Master Joris picked his backpack up and, under everyone’s astounded gaze, disappeared in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind the only indication he had ever been there. 

“Okay, I think it’s high time I said what’s on everyone’s minds”, Chibi spoke up for the first time since they met their unexpected guest, gesturing wildly at the space he had just occupied, “What in the Great Goddess’ name was that guy?!”

While his siblings shared their theories on the mysterious little man that had just turned their world upside down, Yugo’s eyes fleetingly met Amalia’s, before the two of them averted their gazes as quickly as if they’d been burned, a flush on their cheeks that didn’t go unnoticed by Adamaï.

.........................................................................................................................

Sure enough, just as Master Joris had promised, barely a week after his surprise visit, a Cra-crafted magic arrow drove itself into a wall, startling them all. To say Glip almost had a heart attack as he saw it pass right under his nose, literally, would be an understatement. With class cancelled that day due to the sudden fright, the Council of Six met up once again for an urgent meeting, apprehension behind their every move as they all gathered around their king to discover the contents of the letter. 

Unsurprisingly, it was a letter from Master Joris informing them of Queen Astra and the other rulers’ reaction upon discovering they harboured Sadida’s youngest daughter. Surprisingly—and by that they meant shockingly, astonishingly, heart-attack-worthily—, the World of Twelve’s different nations had convened amongst themselves and reached the decision to extend the Eliatropes an invitation to Bonta, where they would all meet up in a banquet meant to celebrate such wondrous occasion. 

All they asked of the Eliatropes in return was that both King Yugo and Lady Amalia were present. Beyond that, any other member of their ruling class was welcomed to attend as well. 

Once they got over their initial shock and excitement over what that could mean to their people, the most cautious members of the Council—namely, Mina, Phaeris, Chibi, and Grougaloragran—warned them they had to be careful. As great an opportunity as it was, they could not let their guards down, therefore, it would be wise if some members stayed behind to oversee and protect their kingdom in case of an attack or an emergency. 

They all agreed wholeheartedly with that. Not surprisingly, Efrim was the first to volunteer to stay behind, and Yugo couldn’t help but feel grateful for that. His youngest brother’s hostile and distrustful nature, especially around Amalia, would not do them any favours with improving their relationship with the Twelvians. And seeing as Glip, Baltazar, and Shinonomé would remain as well and they weren’t exactly battle-oriented, then having the more combat-ready Efrim around was actually the wisest choice. 

As they all discussed how they would proceed and how they would behave at the festivities, Yugo couldn’t help the strangled yelp that escaped his lips when Nora roughly grabbed him by the hood and yanked him down to her eye-level. Her pink eyes glimmered with the utmost seriousness, the kind that she usually reserved solely for battle. 

Struggling out of her grip, he scowled at her. “Nora, what are you doing?!”

But she remained unbothered, her hands on her hips and her face as expressive as a rock. Rather than acknowledge his rightful outburst, she just stated flatly. “You have to summon the Royal tailor. Now.”

The king’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s true it’s been a while since we last donned more formal clothing, but—.”

“It’s not that!” Nora snapped. Giving her brother’s words some thought, though, her hand to her chin, she then admitted. “Alright, that too. After all, we can’t exactly present ourselves to what’s supposed to be a civilised party wearing our battlesuits; we must showcase our people’s own rich heritage and history to the other rulers. But that’s not what I meant!”

“Then what did you mean?”

Nora actually rubbed her face in frustration, groaning exasperatedly as she went. Each passing day the reason why Yugo never got married was less of a mystery and more of a foregone conclusion. 

“Amalia, Yugo. I mean Amalia! The Twelvians think she’s your bride, meaning she will be our queen!” She hissed, causing her brother to flinch at her outburst. “If we want to show them we are serious about coexisting peacefully, we must show them Amalia is one of us so they'll have no chance to try and drive us away!”

Just as she finished her little spiel, she brought a hand behind her back and opened a portal. Sticking her hand inside, she flicked Efrim in the back as a warning to keep his mouth shut. Knowing him, no doubt he was about to protest and insist the Sadida Doll was definitely not one of them.

“Nora is right.” Shinonomé agreed, coming to stand by her sister as she stared directly into her king’s eyes. “As impressive as Amalia’s shapeshifting can be, I highly doubt she’ll be able to replicate our traditional ceremonial clothing. She needs a professional’s help.”

“Grougaloragran would appreciate a new ceremonial tunic as well.” The black dragon piped up, though he shrank a little into himself at the unimpressed glances his siblings were sending him. Feeling a little bashful, he rushed out to say, “That and we should show the Twelvians we are taking this invitation seriously. We must look the part.”

Yugo could only look back and forth between his siblings in disbelief, his mouth agape. Groaning quietly to himself, a hand to his temple to soothe his rapidly impending headache, he couldn’t take it anymore. Sometimes his siblings were impossible. 

“Whoah, whoah, whoah!” He exclaimed loud enough for them to hear. After a short while of him gesturing wildly at them, their heads finally snapped to look back at their king, expectantly. “Have you all forgotten already?! Despite what Master Joris and the Twelvians seem to believe, Amalia is not my bride! I’ll have to clear up any misunderstandings at the celebration before they can cause any trouble!”

“Well, duh.” Phaeris chimed in, shrugging. Yugo could feel himself staring owlishly at the turquoise dragon; that had to be the least dignified reaction he’d seen of him in the several centuries they’d been alive during their current reincarnation. 

Unperturbed by his king’s stare, the dragon went on, as if what he was about to say were common sense, “It is important we explain the situation with Lady Amalia, it’s true. Otherwise, they might accuse us of lying to serve our own purposes.”

Some of the tension left Yugo’s body. “Yes, that’s right. Thank you, Phaeris.”

But Phaeris wasn’t done. “But, as Nora pointed out, it is also imperative we make it clear that Lady Amalia is with us, lest we risk being deemed as undeserving by the other nations and they try to take her away.”

“Which would then rob us of any immunity Lady Amalia’s presence might grant us by virtue of her being a Divine Doll.” Mina finished for him, sharing a meaningful nod with her twin. 

“In other words, you’d better summon the Royal tailor as soon as possible, Yugo. We’re going shopping!” Nora announced, throwing one hand in the air in celebration. Truth be told, the tone of her voice sounded more like she was just looking forward to getting some new clothing, rather than preparing for an extremely important diplomatic mission.

As the rest of the Council murmured in agreement all around him, Mina and Chibi discussing things like the overall design of the outfits they would commission, Yugo eventually gave up with a sigh and a helpless shrug. He arched an eyebrow when Adamaï landed softly by his side, an encouraging grin on his maw. 

“Look on the bright side, Brother. You’ve been thinking about summoning the Royal tailor on Amalia’s behalf for a while now. Now’s your chance.” He winked playfully at him.

Yugo snorted at his brother’s antics. “Oh, Ad. You always know just what to say.” He rolled his eyes, only half-joking.

......................................................................................................................

Lately, the best way Amalia had to describe her life would be by saying each day felt like a tornado passed by and turned it all upside down, swooping her up as it went. One day Yugo summoned her to the throne room where she had to prove her identity to a mysterious little man overflowing with power beyond mortal comprehension, and the next there was a knock on her door she barely had a few seconds to even respond to before a bearded, older-looking Eliatrope came rushing in and started taking her measurements and talking about fabrics, and complementary colours and ball gown shapes and who knew what else.

Amalia was convinced not even her father had pricked her with a needle as many times as this man—the Royal tailor, apparently—had when he was sewing her up. And she was a doll Sadida made from scratch!

Now, despite her limited time on the World of Twelve, Amalia had to admit she had grown to be quite coquettish. It didn’t take long for her to develop a healthy kind of appreciation for quality clothing and looking one’s best. And when the tailor told her she had been summoned to Bonta alongside the Council of Six, she was more than willing to go along with it and look the part. 

What she wasn’t so appreciative about, however, was spending countless hours still as a statue as she had her measurements taken and her skin pricked by needles. And finding out about said invitation through the tailor and his assistants when it should have been from Yugo was just the last nail on the coffin. Especially when, apparently, the Twelvians expected her to go as Yugo’s plus-one. 

That little son of a weed was starting to really get on her nerves. In fact, Amalia remembered she couldn’t keep her temper from flaring at such revelation, to the point she ended up startling the poor tailor half to death when she stomped on the floor in frustration and her bed shot up to the ceiling in response, the action causing a small tremor to echo around the palace. 

One thing was to avoid her—which was a very hurtful thing to do to a friend in the first place—, but to send literally anyone else to tell her important news, especially when they concerned the two of them? She was starting to get really sick and tired of whatever game Yugo was playing. 

A scoff escaped her lips, which earned her the curious glances of the guards escorting her. But she paid them no mind. She was far too busy wallowing in her own bitterness. She was so angry she had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep herself from groaning in aggravation.

So he wanted to play, huh? Fine, she would play along. She would go to the banquet in Bonta as his partner, play the part, but she was done being the only one always making an effort to get close to each other. So his definition of friendship was to be distant and aloof? Fine. That was exactly how she was gonna be. 

The Sadida Doll had just made up her mind when she was finally led to the palace entrance, where she’d meet up with Yugo and the rest of the attending members of the Council before they all left for Bonta. Despite the large gates leading outside being closed, the doll could still make out the excited chatter coming from the other side. The Royal tailor had been so kind as to inform her they would address their people first before parting for Bonta, hence the location where they would meet up at. 

Fine by her. She had yet to truly meet any non-Primordial Eliatropes beyond the palace staff and the children. 

As she waited for the Council to appear, Amalia took some time to admire her new clothes. In the end, she had to admit she liked her new dress a lot more than she had been expecting she would. 

More importantly, she had been pleasantly surprised to find out she quite enjoyed the simple elegance it conveyed. She wore a modest cream silk dress that reached down to her feet and left her shoulders and arms exposed. Apparently, that colour had been chosen precisely so it would create a nice contrast with her dark skin. The tailor had described it as having a semi-sweetheart neckline and a mermaid skirt, although he insisted it would not impede her mobility and the skirt was specifically designed to flare with her movements. And Amalia had to admit she liked the way it fluttered around her as she walked. 

While primarily white, the dress wasn’t without a touch of colour. A forest green sash was tied around her waist, with the ends hanging from the centre and going all the way down to just above her shins. A golden belt buckle showcasing the Eliatropes’ emblem helped fasten it. And draped around her shoulders was a large, sheer equally green shawl. The fabric was big enough to act almost like a cape. Much like the belt buckle, it was fastened around her neck with a matching golden brooch with their emblem engraved on it. 

As for her hair, for once Amalia wore it almost entirely loose, allowing it to stretch down to its actual length—just below her upper back. A simple high bun held together by a modest headband completed the hairdo. 

Despite how peeved she was feeling at the moment, Amalia had to admit both the Royal tailor and his assistants had done a splendid job. She would have to thank them later. 

Her good mood instantly soured as soon as she registered the familiar flash of blue light from the corner of her eyes. The soft thud! coming from beside her as well as the fact that she could feel someone towering over her was all she needed to know Yugo and his siblings had arrived. 

“Good afternoon, Amalia.”

Wait, that was it? That was all he had to say after so long without even speaking a word to each other? Just a simple greeting? No apology due to how he’d been acting? No further explanation as to what they’d be up against? Didn't he have anything to say about how she looked?!

The Divine Doll grit her teeth and clenched her fist so hard she almost drew blood, trying to restrain herself. She had already decided she wouldn’t let him affect her anymore. Forcing herself to take a calming breath through her nose, she turned to look back at Yugo…and was left frozen on the spot, although she could feel her cheeks grow hot at the sight. 

Much like herself, Yugo had dressed himself up for the occasion. And much to her chagrin, her eyes immediately travelled up and down his body in admiration as her brain struggled to process what was going on. 

While he still wore a blue hooded cloak, this one had more golden details than his usual one, with gold lining up the seams beyond just the hood. Even in her speechless state, a part of Amalia couldn’t help but find it odd that he insisted on covering his head despite going on official business with the other monarchs, although she was oddly relieved and endeared to see it wasn't enough to hide the fact that he’d braided the bangs framing his face. She hated how adorable it looked. Instead of his usual bodysuit, he wore white harem pants and sandals, and while his dark blue fingerless gloves remained, the same couldn’t be said about his sleeves, as he wore an equally blue, sleeveless, high neck top with more golden lining highlighting his pectorals and sides. A silk sash the same colour as his cloak tied to the side of his waist completed the ensemble, joining both halves of his outfit seamlessly.

However, what really caught her eye about the ensemble was how the lack of sleeves brought attention to the weird markings on his arms. They were like spirals going up and down his arms, snaking around his forearms and curling it on themselves on his shoulders and wrists. It was definitely strange, and yet, the weirdest thing of all had to be how those markings looked more like scars, for the skin they covered was of a darker tone as the rest of him. 

She must have been staring a little too hard, for after letting out what sounded like an awkward cough, Yugo eventually explained. “These are ceremonial Wakfung tattoos.” He gestured at them. “It’s not customary for Eliatropes to get them—if you look closely, you’ll see none of my siblings have them—, but I find they help to better project and manipulate wakfu. Ad has them too, though only in his true dragon form.”

Blinking slowly in surprise—partly at the information and partly because that was the longest he’d spoken to her in a while—, Amalia finally turned her focus back at the remaining members of the Council of Six. Sure enough, not only did they not have the same markings as Yugo on their skin, but they also wore similar clothes to him, even if they shared the same colour palette as their regular outfits or had little details that helped them to stand out. For example, Nora wore a bandana around her neck, no doubt meant to act like her usual mask; and Chibi had pieces of gold scattered all over his clothes; Mina was the only one beside herself to wear a dress, and her hat was more elaborate than usual, with even more details embroidered onto it; and Qilby… Well, he looked marginally less haggard than normal. 

Adamaï, Grougaloragran, and Phaeris, however, looked the same except for Grougal’s tunic looking a little more regal. Amalia supposed it made sense; as dragons they didn’t have much use for clothing in the first place. 

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she couldn’t stifle the gasp that let her mouth when Yugo interlocked their arms, the crook of her arm coming to rest against his. She was so startled by the action she almost forgot to be angry at him. But she recovered just in time to discreetly puff out her cheeks in annoyance. 

“Are you ready, Amalia?” He asked, and for a moment she hated how genuinely concerned he sounded. But she was not going to fall for his fake pleasantries again. 

Her tone was flat when she answered, “Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Before Yugo had time to dwell on the apparent lack of her usual excitement, Chibi turned to address the guards standing by the door. “Open the gates.”

“Yes, sir!” With their customary greeting, they pulled the rope that served to open the large doors, giving way to the excited crowd outside as they cheered and celebrated their leaders. 

“Long live the Council of Six! Long live King Yugo!”

“May the Great Goddess be with you!”

“All hail our leaders!”

After a few more minutes of cheering and applause, Yugo raised his hand as a silent request for his subjects to quiet down. Seeing the gesture, little by little, the noise around them died down, the Eliatropes present waiting for their king to speak. 

Yugo allowed a reassuring smile to tug at the corner of his lips. “My beloved people, as you all know, we have been granted a once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove our intentions are pure to the natives of this world. It is our duty, as your leaders, not to let you down.”

“Today we will be travelling to Bonta,” Chibi continued, his tone measured and collected. Amalia was sure that had to be the most serious she ever heard him. “From what we’ve gathered, the city is one of the most prosperous and powerful nations in all of the World of Twelve. And such, it is imperative we leave a lasting impression on them, for this could be the first step into receiving their blessing to live alongside the Twelvians.”

“We promise to both gather information regarding our neighbours and to prove our own worth as a kingdom.” Qilby added, adjusting his glasses with one finger. 

“Hopefully, by the time this is over, we will have earned their respect and will be one step closer to finally earning their trust.” Nora went on, her pink gaze betraying her hopes for what the night might entail.

As the members of the Council kept on talking and assuring their people they would do everything in their power to bridge the gap between Twelvians and Eliatropes—something Amalia still didn’t fully understand but no one bothered to tell her about—, the Divine Doll felt a hand tugging at the skirt of her dress. Blinking in surprise, she looked down and found herself face-to-face with a beaming little girl. 

She remembered her from class, her name was Camilla and she was very shy but very sweet once you got to know her. Which was why it was such a shock that she seemed to have overcome her shyness to hand a flower to her, a small blush on her cheeks.

Oh. That explained the little prick of pain she felt earlier.

Allowing her first genuine smile of the day to grace her features, Amalia leaned down and gracefully took the flower from the girl’s hands and placed it at the base of her bun. And with that, little Camilla beamed up at the Sadida Doll once more before going back to her parents. 

It was at that moment that Amalia realised things had got oddly quiet. Looking back at the crowd, she almost flinched upon realising they were all staring back at her. Her second mistake was subconsciously glancing at Yugo for answers, the sight causing her chest to constrict almost painfully.

The way the Eliatrope King was looking at her—his eyes glimmering with fondness and an unfairly adorable grin on his lips—was as soft as butter. Despite the way her heart skipped a beat, a part of Amalia wished he wouldn’t look at her like that, not when he had spent weeks avoiding her like the plague. It was simply unfair.

What he said next almost brought her to tears. 

“I would like to thank Amalia especially for making all of this possible.” He said, and the doll couldn’t decide between swooning at his words or smack him on the back of his head with a vine. “Without her, who knows how long it would have taken the other nations to express an interest in getting to know us.”

“Long live Lady Amalia!” The Eliatropes gathered exclaimed almost in perfect unison. 

In spite of her turbulent emotions, the green-haired beauty had to admit it felt rather nice to have your name chanted like that. 

Just then, Qilby stepped forward, holding several glass bottles in his hands. He took one and raised it high above for all to see. “These potions were sent to us by the ambassador of Bonta himself. Apparently, they will transport us directly to the palace, where the banquet will take place.” After he said that, he distributed each and every one of them amongst his siblings and the doll. 

As she took hers and stared back at it, Amalia thanked Sadida for their existence. She could not promise her new dress would arrive intact at Bonta had she had to travel through one of Yugo’s portals again. 

Yugo himself spoke next, taking the cap off and raising his own potion up, an action they all soon mimicked. “For our future!” And he gulped down the magic beverage.

“For our future!” The Council repeated, following suit and drinking their own, with Amalia scrambling to do the same. 

And in a literal flash, they were gone.

.................................................................................................................

When her eyes finally adjusted to the change in lighting filtering through her eyelids after drinking the potion, she finally opened her big brown eyes to take it all in. What she saw caused her to let out a gasp of surprise. 

They had been transported into a moderately-sized hexagonal room with white marble walls, royal blue tapestries hanging from some of them while the others held portraits of what she could only assume were relevant figures in Bontarian history. She was inclined to believe they were previous rulers, as they all wore some sort of golden crown with wings. Beyond that, there were potted plants adorning the corners—they were healthy, she could tell, but they would definitely benefit from some actual soil and sunlight. 

“Looks like they’re waiting for us.” Nora piped up, drawing Amalia’s attention with her. 

Her eyes landing where the pink-eyed Eliatrope was staring at, the doll finally took notice of the large royal blue with golden hinged doors right in front of them, the cacophony of voices coming from behind. Amalia couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. It felt like all she did lately was wait in front of doors.

“So, how long do we have to wait for?” Chibi asked no one in particular. “Do we just go in or…?”

“Phaeris believes it is customary to wait until one is formally introduced by an announcer. Perhaps that is the case here as well.” The turquoise dragon pointed out. 

“For once we agree, Phaeris.” Qilby murmured, rolling his eyes alongside his dragon sibling upon making eye-contact with each other. With a low scoff, he adjusted his glasses over his nose. “I suggest we wait until we are formally introduced.”

“And what if no one is supposed to introduce us?” Adamaï questioned, an eyebrow raised. 

“Then we wait for Bonta's little errand boy to come find us.” The eldest Eliatrope said dismissively. 

As the others were discussing how and when they should step through the doors to meet the other leaders waiting for them, Amalia was momentarily startled by Yugo placing his hand over the one resting on the crook of his forearm. Even though she knew it was meant to be a polite way to ask for her attention, given his recent behaviour towards her, to the doll it felt more like a loud demand. 

“Amalia, remember how you introduced yourself to Master Joris?” He asked, momentarily taking her aback. Then again, what else was new with this man?

“You mean the first or the second time?” She shot back, trying to keep her voice cool and unaffected. 

“Uh… The second one. When you transformed to prove your identity.”

“Oh. Yes, I remember.” She nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you remember you told him you’re supposed to be my bride?”

Her eyes widened as realisation finally hit her. Oh. That. She had been so caught up trying to assure Master Joris she truly was a Divine Doll and talking about how her father had created her, she totally forgot about that little detail. More specifically, the fact that she had been told that wouldn’t be happening almost as soon as she stepped foot in Oma. 

She averted her eyes as she shyly pushed her fringe away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry about that, Yugo. I really wasn’t thinking about that back then.”

“It’s okay, Amalia.” He told her reassuringly, and at that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to stop being so good to her if he was only going to go back to ignoring her once this was over. “Don’t worry, I’ll clear up the misunderstanding. But I need you to do something for me. Is that okay?”

“What is it?”

“My people, they… We need this. We need to leave a good impression on this world’s rulers, and you’re our key to achieving that.” He swallowed, as if to give himself some time to gather his thoughts and find the right words to say. His hold on her hand tightened a little. “My siblings and I believe the Twelvians will be more welcoming of our people if they see you’ve become one of us. So even if you’re not my bride, we… I need you to show them that your home is Oma Island, that your presence among us is indeed the gods giving us their blessing to live on their world. Do you think… Do you think you can do that?”

Even though he was in no position to ask any favours of her right now, not after the way he’d treated her lately, or the fact that the way he phrased it made it sound like he himself didn’t believe her being sent to them was meant as a sign of good will from the gods—from her father—, Amalia had to bite down the retort forming on the tip of her tongue. Despite everything, he was right. She still didn’t know what the situation was like between the Eliatropes and the Twelvians, but the more time passed, the more she felt it couldn’t be good. 

Even if no one told her upfront, it was clear to see if you paid close attention. Like the way Yugo insisted she wouldn’t be able to leave the island even when she was allowed to explore with him by her side. Or the children’s wistful sighs and longing looks at the thought of playing outside of Oma’s confines. Or the way the entire Council and palace staff seemed on edge as soon as Master Joris arrived. 

Whatever the reason, this was important to all of them. And she couldn’t risk jeopardising it just because she was mad at Yugo. 

So with a sigh and a heavy heart, yet feeling determined by her choice, Amalia gently squeezed his hand back. “Rest assured, Yugo. You and your people have welcomed me to your kingdom, and now I shall honour our agreement. You can count on me.”

If the king noticed the way she was back to talking in an overly formal manner with him after so long, he didn’t show. Instead, he just smiled down at the doll. “Thank you, Amalia. Really, it means a lot.”

Not trusting her own voice, the Sadida Doll limited herself to nodding. 

Finally, it looked as if Phaeris’ prediction had been right, because they were all brought back to the present by the sound of trumpets being played coming from the other side of the doors. Then, as they all took positions to present themselves as composed and regally as possible, a nasally voice announced, “Presenting King Yugo of the Eliatropes and Lady Amalia, accompanied by the distinguished members of the Council of Six Adamaï, Chibi, Grougaloragran, Mina, Phaeris, Nora, and Qilby.”

“Why do I gotta go last? I’m the eldest!” She heard Qilby grumble to himself, before he let out a little, outraged huff. 

No sooner was the announcer done speaking, did the gates open up, bathing the waiting room in the bright lights coming from the incredibly vast ballroom, a cacophony of voices echoing around the walls as they all took their visitors in. 

As they made their way inside, his hold on Amalia tight but not too much as to not risk hurting her, for he feared the Twelvians would try to separate her from him—from them!—, Yugo wasted no time scanning the room. Many of the people present he recognised from their botched attempt at introducing themselves, when they accidentally crashed a meeting between the world’s leaders, but many others he did not remember. While most of the guests appeared to be Bontarians, many others had more defined races, which suggested they belonged to their respective ruler’s entourage. 

Or maybe Bonta was that much of a cosmopolitan and multiethnic area. That, he didn’t know.

For her part, Amalia was enraptured at the prospect of finally meeting the gods’ followers. As her eyes travelled around the space in search of her father’s people—in search of her people—, she could finally see for herself how, indeed, a god’s worshippers inherited some key aspects from their deity. 

Eniripsa’s followers shared their patron goddess’ delicate features and fairy-like wings, all of them traits that underlaid their unparalleled skill at tending to the ill and wounded without even batting an eyelash. She had trouble understanding why Fecas had blue hair while their goddess was a dark brunette, but the golden, horned armour some of them wore was unmistakable. Cra had inherited their goddess’ golden hair, pointy ears, and poise, even if Amalia had to admit the older woman who seemed to act as their leader hadn’t exactly inherited the same astonishing beauty as her father’s dear friend. 

While, oddly enough, female Sram were pretty much regular, masked women, it was plain to see their god’s skull-like features through his male followers. All Ecaflips present seemed to replicate their god’s feline grace, and the way she could spot several of them playing card games around the room made their connection to the feline deity of chance all the clearer. 

As their group slowly made their way to the centre of the room, where a portly woman with golden skin, short platinum blond hair and covered by a blue mink cape stood alongside a much taller, dark-skinned woman with much narrower features—the familiar crowns on their heads hinting at their true position as Bonta’s rulers—, the sight of Master Joris by their side brought a relieved smile to Amalia’s features. 

To be honest, she was glad to see a familiar face. Especially after catching sight of what she could only assume was the Osamodas royal family. Besides their blue skin and moorg-like ears and horns, the reason she could easily pinpoint their loyalty to the beast god was the fact that she got the exact same feeling she experienced when she had been first introduced to their patron god. And it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Although she had to admit her eyes lingered for a moment longer on what appeared to be the eldest daughter, as her clothing was closer to something she herself would wear—although a lot tackier—compared to the feathered robes the members of her family donned. But even that did nothing to soothe her nerves as her cold, calculating red eyes seemed to scrutinise her. 

She sent a quick prayer to her father so they wouldn’t have to interact. 

Almost as if Sadida himself had heard his youngest daughter’s plea and sought to offer some comfort, Amalia’s whole face lit up in excitement when she finally took notice of the small entourage standing close to the Bonta rulers. The strong sense of kinship that enveloped her let her know she’d just found exactly what she’d been looking for: the Sadida royal family. 

It seemed to be composed of a father and son duo, the few remaining men by their side appeared to be on high alert, which implied they were actually some high ranking officials rather than royals. Through them, the Divine Doll could see some key aspects that immediately reminded her of her father. Beyond standing taller than most other races, their skin was also considerably darker—unless you counted Twelvians whose gods had blue skin, like Osamodas and Sram, of course—, not unlike tree bark. Their clothing, heavily inspired by the vegetation they surely surrounded themselves with, was also a clear indicator of where their faith laid. However, the biggest indicator was their head and hair. Even though they didn’t wear masks like Sadida, the men’s faces were entirely covered by their green manes, regardless of how they were styled, clearly acting as a nod to her father’s aversion to showing his true face. 

As they finally arrived right in front of Bonta’s queen—or was it queens?—, Amalia couldn’t wipe the grin off her face at having finally found her people. After weeks of being the only non-Eliatrope or non-dragon on Oma, it was extremely pleasant to find more people like her. 

Her gaze flickered back up to the women standing before them when one of them cleared her throat. It was the shortest one. 

“Greetings, King Yugo of the Eliatropes and honourable members of the Council of Six. We are immensely honoured by your presence.” Amalia almost flinched when her golden eyes landed on her. “And especially you, Lady Amalia. Your arrival truly is a blessing.”

Not sure what else to do, Amalia simply offered a polite bow of her head. “It is I who is blessed to be here, um…” She trailed off, mortified to realise she had no idea whom she was even addressing. 

Luckily for her, the woman simply let out a thunderous cackle. “Wherever are my manners? I have yet to introduce myself.” With a low chuckle, she stood a little bit taller, her head held up high as she spread her arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “I am Queen Astra of Bonta, and by my side is my wife, Queen Selene.” She gestured at the dark-skinned woman. 

The woman, Selene, offered a small nod and a smile of her own, “Pleasure to meet you.”

This time, it was Yugo’s turn to speak, “I believe I speak on behalf of not only my siblings, but the entirety of our people when I say we are truly honoured to be welcomed into your land, Your Majesties.” He made a show of looking around. “And to be given the opportunity to officially meet the World of Twelve’s royal families, too.”

“Trust me, King Yugo. No Twelvian in their right mind would ever want to miss such a momentous occasion. As far as I’m concerned, the only ones who aren’t here are the Brakmarians.” 

Even though her tone was meant to be affable and kind, there was something under the surface that caused the Eliatropes to tense up. They knew they wouldn’t suddenly be welcomed with open arms just because the other nations now knew about Amalia, so they knew better than to lower their guards in the face of a possible sneak attack. The fact that Brakmar chose not to attend the banquet was a bad sign. Maybe there were Twelvians foolish enough to disrespect one of Sadida’s dolls.

Sensing the rising tension, Queen Selene rushed out to clarify. “Please, don’t misunderstand. The only reason they’re not here is because of Bonta and Brakmar’s ongoing rivalry.” She let out an amused chuckle, though it was hard to tell how much of it was real and how much of it was rehearsed. “Truth be told, had the banquet taken place in Brakmar, Astra and I would have most likely sent Master Joris in our stead.”

Their eyebrows raising slightly at that revelation, both Yugo and Amalia flashed questioning glances Master Joris’ way, who limited himself to confirming his queen’s explanation with a silent nod. 

Queen Astra’s imposing voice drew their attention back to her. “But enough of all this pointless chatter, there will be time for that throughout the night. Right now, I’d highly recommend you enjoy yourselves and mingle with the other guests as we wait for dinner to be served. After all, that’s what we’re all gathered here today for.”

“Everyone here is especially interested in hearing more from you, Lady Amalia.” Queen Selene added, a wry smile on her lips. She motioned for them to go. “Let’s not keep them waiting for much longer.”

Thanking and bowing to them one last time, the Eliatrope entourage turned around to make their way to a less crowded area where they could begin strategising on how to best benefit from the night. As they went, everyone gathered went back to their own conversations, almost as if they hadn’t been carefully studying their every move as soon as they stepped into the room. 

Eventually, they stopped near a table overflowing with refreshments and appetisers that stood close to the windows leading to the balcony and a little ways off to the centre of the room, where distinguished gentlemen were beginning to take lovely ladies out for a dance after politely asking. As the music coming from the small orchestra began to play, filling the air with uplifting melodies, couples would move to the beat of the music, their coordinated steps creating a magical choreography that left Amalia breathless even as she remained rooted to the spot. 

The scene brought forth a strong sense of nostalgia with it. Memories of her father and sisters dancing under the moonlight flooding her senses. 

A small voice in the back of her head urged her to ask Yugo to take her dancing, but she quickly dismissed it as a lost cause. He hadn’t even complimented her on how she looked today, there was no way he would ever be willing to dance with her. 

At least she could always watch and dream, she sighed wistfully.

Her focus was momentarily broken from the dancefloor by the sight of a wineglass appearing right in front of her. Her eyes followed the arm holding the glass until she was staring back at Yugo. 

“It’s only fruit punch.” He assured her, twirling the contents of her glass experimentally. “I figured it’d be wiser since we do not know your alcohol tolerance and it wouldn’t be wise to find out at an event like this one.”

The doll had to suppress the urge to sulk and roll her eyes. Of course, he wasn’t looking out for her, but for his people. He couldn’t afford to have her embarrass him on such an important night. A nod was all the acknowledgement he got before she took the beverage from his hand and took a sip. Well, at least it was sweet enough to taste good. 

Yugo couldn’t help the small pit of worry that formed in his stomach at her reaction. Amalia had been acting strange all day. He had honestly expected her to be ecstatic at the idea of leaving the island to attend a party so far away, and yet, her face remained the perfect image of stoicism and indifference throughout. She only allowed for a smile to grace her lips when that little girl handed her the daisy she still wore at the base of her bun. 

Truth be told, such little detail went wonderfully with the rest of her outfit. The little flower combined with her traditional Eliatrope clothing made her stand out among him and his siblings—even if she always did just that on her own. 

She was a beautiful flower amongst Eliatrope’s children. 

But that still didn’t explain her behaviour. He was about to open up his mouth to ask her about it when—

“It is a great pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Lady Amalia.” A refined yet smarmy-sounding voice came from in front of them. Yugo didn’t know why, but it made his insides churn. “I must say, you are vastly more beautiful than rumours had me believe.”

Finally, sidestepping other astonished guests who kept murmuring amongst themselves, the origin of the voice revealed itself, causing Yugo to narrow his eyes as he stood a little closer to an unsuspecting Amalia, who could only look on, taken aback. The person who spoke seemed to be a man, and while that would have been the logical conclusion judging solely from his voice, the presence of his broad shoulders and narrow waist confirmed the king’s suspicions. 

The feeling of dread that overtook his whole being only intensified the longer he stared at the man. Truth was, whoever this person was, he was peculiar, to say the least. For starters, he was unnecessarily overdressed; with his cyan and light blue jumpsuit, white gloves, and brown snow boots. Draped over his shoulders was a white-furred cape that reached down to his lower back. Judging by his brooch and belt buckle and their obvious relation to time, he had to be a Xelor. And yet, none of that explained the fact that he was wearing winter clothing at a place as warm as Bonta during this time of year. And it certainly didn’t explain why his whole face was encased in ice, two bright, blue round eyes the only thing discernible behind it. 

And the way he addressed Amalia… His hold on his own glass tightened. One thing was for certain: he did not like this man one bit. 

But before the king could so much as send him packing, Amalia finally found her voice. “Oh, um, the pleasure is all mine, Mister…?”

The masked figure chuckled light-heartedly, bringing a hand to his chest. “Of course, how rude of me. Forgive me, my Lady. I am Count Harebourg, ruler of Frigost.”

Wait, count? Frigost? That didn’t sound like any of the territories where the World of Twelve’s leaders resided, let alone the Xelor royal family—whom, with a quick glance to the side, Yugo found standing all the other way from them and away from Harebourg. Then what was he doing here?

Thankfully, before his twin could do anything rash, it was Adamaï who spoke up. In all honesty, he had almost forgotten he was even there in the first place. “And what brings you all the way here, Your Grace?”

If the dragon’s question bothered him, it was impossible to tell with his mask. And yet, Yugo could hear the smirk in his voice as he answered clear as day, making his skin bristle. “Why, to meet the famed Eliatrope Council everyone has been talking so much about, of course.” 

Finally, he leaned forward slightly in a bow, a hand to his chest. But for some reason, the action, polite as it might’ve been, did nothing to endear the guy to Yugo. Things only got worse when he turned his focus back on Amalia, a protective instinct taking over the king as he felt her flinch under the count’s scrutiny. He had to keep himself from scowling. 

“Although I would be lying if I said your presence had no sway over my decision, my Lady. After all, it’s not everyday one gets to meet a Divine Doll such as yourself.” Just as Harebourg reached out his hand to grab Amalia’s, he was stopped in his tracks by the Eliatrope King’s voice, a warning laced with his tone. 

“I believe we would all feel more at ease if you showed your face, Your Grace. I’m afraid your mask is frightening Amalia.”

“Yugo!” The doll hissed, flustered. 

Harebourg himself only let out a low chuckle, his true feelings well-hidden behind his mask. And yet, Yugo could easily make out the tinge of irony in his words. “Says the king who refuses to take his hood off even inside someone else’s home.”

The only thing stopping the Eliatrope from walking right into the Xelor's personal space and pointing a wakfu sword right at his throat, a snarl on his lips, was Adamaï’s steady claw on his shoulders. That, and Amalia's frantic attempts at defusing the situation. 

“You…You really don’t have to take off your mask, Count Harebourg. Yugo… um, he didn’t mean to… It’s just…erm…” 

However, even as she sputtered on, she flashed the king a brief, warning glare that took him slightly aback and took his words away. She hadn’t looked at him like that since the portal fiasco where she ended up throwing up on a nearby bush. And now she was glaring at him over this guy? Really?

Just, what had got into her?

Unbeknownst to the two of them, the count’s skin prickled at the familiarity in the doll’s voice as she addressed the king. Luckily, he managed to mask his feelings well. Instead, he brought his hands behind his back and puffed his chest out. 

“On the contrary, Lady Amalia.” He told her, making her look up at him in surprise. And for a moment, Yugo and Adamaï could only blink in surprise as well, until the Xelor’s next words soured the Eliatrope’s mood further. “While His Majesty could have indeed phrased it better, he is not wrong in pointing out my appearance might be displeasing for you. Please, allow me to rectify that.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Your—.” She trailed off, the words dying in her throat. 

No sooner was Count Harebourg done talking than the ice encasing his head was melted by a series of copper valves all around his neck letting out steam. Under the block of ice, the count’s face was hidden by a metal mask with bright, blue glass eyes that, with a mechanical sound, opened up and stored itself away, revealing the count’s true face. 

While Amalia’s face grew hot and Adamaï’s jaw dropped, Yugo’s blood ran cold. The feeling only got worse when he heard Nora, of all people, let out an appreciative whistle before saying, “Oh, my…”

“Indeed.” Mina concurred, her tone appreciative. All around them, people whispered, with the women’s input being very much positive. 

Much to Yugo’s chagrin, even he had to understand the ladies’ reaction upon the count revealing his true face. The man before them was objectively handsome, with not even the fact that a rather nasty scar on his left eye covered only by a large blue lens taking away from his attractiveness. With his fair skin, squared jaw, icy blue eye and well-trimmed, snow-white hair, he looked every bit the aristocrat he was supposed to be. 

The Eliatrope’s heart throbbed painfully at the awestruck look on Amalia’s face as she stared back at Count Harebourg. The cold dread in his veins was only melted off when Frigost’s ruler was faster than him and took the doll’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. Whatever cold he felt before was quickly being replaced by the burning anger encompassing his entire being at the action. 

He hadn’t even noticed his clenched hands, tight to the point of turning his knuckles white, were crackling with wakfu until Adamaï made him look at him, his eyes shining with worry. Not finding the strength to answer the question in his brother’s gaze, Yugo simply shoved his claw off his shoulder and focused back on the exchange taking place right in front of him. 

“I certainly do hope my true appearance isn’t quite as displeasing as my mask, my Lady.” The count chuckled, his tone light. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if it was.”

She didn’t know why, but she actually giggled at his joke, her nose wrinkling adorably as she did so. And it felt like a knife to Yugo’s heart. “Rest assured, Your Grace. I’d be lying if I didn’t say your face isn’t nice to look at.” Just as the words left her mouth, her eyes widened, a furious flush overtaking her features as she registered what she’d just said aloud. 

Yugo couldn’t do much but flicker his eyes back and forth between the two of them, his mouth agape. Were they… were they actually flirting? And right in front of him?!

He started at that train of thought, all his other functions shutting down momentarily. What was it to him? Amalia was his friend and his guest and her presence was key in his people’s future, so it was only natural if he grew protective of her, but she was her own person. If she wanted to flirt with some mask-wearing, one-eyed, aristocratic weirdo, it was her choice! And he had to respect it. 

That still didn’t mean he didn’t have a right to feel his skin bristle at the hungry look Harebourg was regarding her with. Okay, so it was still her choice, but she was also far too innocent and inexperienced to be truly left to her own devices. He’d better keep an eye out. 

Which was another reason why he could hardly contain the smirk from tugging at his lips when Grougaloragran (finally!) intervened. 

“One of the queen’s little attendants has just told Grougaloragran dinner will be served shortly and we should start heading to the banquet hall to be directed at our respective seats.” It was then that the black dragon realised he had actually walked in on something. Tilting his head to the side, he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Uh… Is Grougaloragran interrupting anything?”

Before Amalia got a chance to say anything, Yugo beat her to it, his tone far too chipper for it to be genuine. “Nope! In fact, I’d say you’re just in time, Grougal. I’m starving!” He made a show of rubbing his belly to emphasise his point. Not wasting any time, he interlocked arms with the Divine Doll once more and began to all but drag her away in the direction everybody else seemed to be heading towards. 

He threw a dismissive wave over his shoulder and the count’s way. “Lovely talking to you, Count Harebourg. See you after dinner.”

That snapped Amalia,  who until then had been staring at Yugo as if he’d sprouted a second head, out of her disbelief-induced stupor. She quickly turned to look at the Xelor over her shoulder and sent him her own wave. “It was great meeting you, Your Grace. Hopefully we’ll get to talk some more tonight.”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes, my Lady! Hopefully you’ll even save me a dance.” He called out to her, before disappearing amidst the throngs of guests making their way towards the banquet hall. 

“Keep dreaming, loverboy.” The Eliatrope king couldn’t help but think spitefully to himself.

By his side, Amalia blinked in surprise at the count’s sudden departure, before her brow hardened into a scowl as she side-eyed her ‘friend’. Just, what was that about? First he told her about how important this night was to him and his people, only to then act like he was just itching to bite the count’s head off like some rabid Bow Wow?

And why? Just because Count Harebourg had been nothing but charming to her even if he was a little weird? Please, it wasn’t like he had any reason to get this mad just because some other guy was paying attention to—.

Her train of thought skidded to a halt, her eyes widening at the realisation. Eyes flickering back and forth between Yugo’s pouting face and the space Count Harebourg had been occupying before vanishing, she couldn’t prevent a little smirk from stretching over her lips. 

Maybe it was time for a little payback. 

........................................................................................................................

“Okay, what was that?” Chibi whispered to his siblings, voicing everyone’s thoughts. 

They were walking a little behind Yugo and Amalia, with enough space between them to be able to talk freely about what they just bore witness to, as long as they weren’t too loud. And by Eliatrope, there were no words to describe what they bore witness to. 

“Pretty sure it was our king about to go off on that count.” Qilby clicked his tongue and shook his head ruefully. He leaned closer to Nora. “I told you his vehement denial of his denial was a bad sign.”

The pink-eyed Eliatrope nodded. 

“Hopefully Yugo will be too busy interacting with the Twelvian rulers to encounter Count Harebourg again.” Phaeris noted, his arms crossed over his chest even as he had to tuck his wings closer to his body just to make sure he didn’t hit anyone as he walked. “We really can’t afford to have them come to blows.”

“Oh, but perhaps that is precisely what we need.” Mina mused aloud, drawing everyone’s startled gazes to her. 

“Are my ears playing tricks on me, or are you actually in favour of our brother nuking it out against the Xelor?” Nora asked, a teasing eyebrow quirked at her sister, who simply chuckled in response, remaining as poised as always. 

“I never said anything about Yugo and the count fighting, now, did I?” 

And with that, she walked ahead of them, her head held up high as she entered the banquet hall and was shown to her seat, leaving her flabbergasted siblings in her wake. 

All of them, but Adamaï, who had a good idea about what his wisest sister might have been talking about instead. And, as he spotted Yugo and Amalia and the stiff atmosphere around them, he had to admit she was probably right once more. 

He turned his head to look at Chibi when the latter clasped his hand on his shoulder and brought him closer. “Okay, Ad. Be real with me, because I feel like I’m missing something. Is it me, or is Yugo—?”

“He very much is, Chibi. Even if he doesn’t realise it himself.”

Chibi hummed in thought. “You know, it’s kinda funny. I’m used to seeing Yugo’s eyes glow blue whenever he taps into more wakfu than usual, but I never expected him to be visited by the green-eyed monster.”

Adamaï sighed. “I suppose that makes three of us, Chibi.”

...............................................................................................................

Dinner would have been a far more pleasant experience if it hadn’t been for Yugo’s noticeably darker mood. Not like he wasn’t good at hiding it. Whenever someone held a conversation with him, he was perfectly cordial and polite, to the point it would have been impossible to tell if something was wrong. But Amalia had been on the receiving end of his hollow kindness long enough to be able to see right through him. And a quick look around his siblings was enough to tell her they knew better too. 

Luckily, Amalia didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as every time her mind would start to wander, someone would address her. A part of the doll was touched at the Twelvians’ devotion and admiration of their gods, seeing as most of the time she would be asked about that person’s specific patron deity and what they were like. Her answer would always be the same, though; she hadn’t really got to talk much with them, but they were all very kind to her.

Once again, she thanked her father for the fact that none of the Osamodas royals were anywhere near her. She really didn’t know how to say ‘He was polite but very unpleasant and I could tell not even his horns were genuine’ to their faces without sounding rude. At the same time, she also felt extremely awkward when she saw the Sadida Crown Prince was seated alongside the Osamodas princess she saw earlier, which meant the reason behind her Sadida-like dress was that they were at the very least betrothed. 

Amalia hadn’t even stepped foot on the Sadida Kingdom and she already feared for her father’s people’s future if an Osamodas was to rule them. 

Regardless of her personal feelings on the horned god and his followers, at the end of the feast Queen Astra had declared they were now free to spend the rest of the night however they pleased. And for a bunch of Eliatropes with a mission, that meant fostering closer relationships with the other royals.

More importantly, in spite of the rocky state her and Yugo’s relationship was in, he had gone out of his way to ask her for help, and Amalia was not petty enough to deny him and his people of an opportunity they had long been waiting for. Regardless of how tired she felt. She honestly didn't know how these people did it. It had only been a few hours of interacting with others and she was already exhausted. 

As much as it saddened her to admit it, she was beginning to think she wouldn’t be able to dance after all out of sheer exhaustion.

She was about to follow after him and his siblings as the Eniripsa Queen asked for their presence when Master Joris appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His sudden appearance caused Yugo to halt and stare at him expectantly. 

“If I may, Your Majesty,” he started, his little, black eyes set on the Eliatrope King. “I believe it would be better if Lady Amalia sat this one out.”

Yugo blinked, surprised. “I beg your pardon?”

The ambassador raised his hands up placatingly. “I mean no offence, King Yugo. It’s just that there was a time where I was new to this kind of gathering, too.” He looked back at the Sadida Doll, offering her the kindest smile she had ever seen on the little man’s face. “I do not know how you’ve been spending your time on Oma, Your Grace, but I know from experience spending all night talking to dignitaries when you’re not used to it can be quite taxing.”

It was as if Master Joris’ words had forced Amalia to acknowledge for the first time the true depth of her exhaustion. Her feet ached against the cold floor, her cheeks were sore from smiling so much, and even though she had been instilled courtesy from birth, she was beginning to feel like her head would explode if she had to address anybody else as ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Honour’, or by any other title one more time. 

But she knew what her role was. Her presence was important to the Council, so she couldn’t just call it a night while they represented their people. She couldn’t do that to them.

Which was why she almost gasped in surprise when Yugo said, “If that is what Amalia needs, fine by me.”

“Are-are you sure, Yugo?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort despite herself. 

No. Yugo wasn’t really sure. On the one hand, because the plan was to keep Amalia close in order to showcase to the Twelvians their own gods approved of their presence on their world and, more importantly, to keep her safe in case this was just a trap to take her away. And on the other hand, because a small part of him spiked up with anxiety at the thought of leaving her alone and for Count Harebourg to find her. He hadn’t been able to move past their brief interaction all evening, the mere memory of it was enough for his expression to cloud over with emotions he himself had trouble deciphering. 

But, as always, one look at Amalia was enough for his resolve to crumble like dust. She looked so tired, so vulnerable. She had been doing an astounding job all evening entertaining those who asked for a moment of her time and making sure to emphasise she had grown quite fond of Oma Island and its inhabitants. Moreover, unlike him and his siblings, who had been born to lead and navigate the world of politics and diplomacy, Amalia was a Divine Doll. Even if her true purpose remained undisclosed, Yugo highly doubted such a marvel of nature was meant to spend her time cooped up around a bunch of stubborn Dracoturkeys like monarchs were known for being. 

Maybe that was why she’d been so weird all day, because she was so out of her element. 

All the more reason to give her some time to relax. She’d more than earned it. 

So he told her as such with a nod and a smile. “I’m positive. Go and take a break, Amalia. We’ll take it from here.” Then, he turned to Bonta’s ambassador. “Master Joris, do you think you could look after her?”

But he just shook his head regretfully. “I’m afraid I must remain by your side, my King. You see, I’m actually on-duty tonight. But rest assured, I know just what to do.” He pointed at the far side of the room, where an older-looking white Ecaflip and another that was equally old but bald were lounging on a divan, playing cards. “Those are my sons, Kerubim and Atcham, my Lady. Go with them. They’ll make sure no harm comes to you.”

Amalia could only look on, flabbergasted, but ultimately chose not to say anything. She really couldn’t explain how someone like Master Joris, who seemed to be in his thirties or his forties at most and was of an indiscernible race could be the father of two old Ecaflips, but then again, she wasn’t one to talk. After all, her father was essentially a mask-wearing, humanoid tree, yet all his daughters were either dolls or utterly beautiful young women. 

There was, of course, the fact that he had literally sewn them up himself to be that way, but who was she to judge in the first place?

So with a polite nod as thanks to Master Joris and a grateful smile at Yugo, she turned back to the direction the Bontarian had pointed at and began to make her way between all the guests. Just as she avoided crashing into a laughing Iop, she bumped into somebody else. 

“Oh, my Gods, I’m so sorry.” She rushed out to apologise as she touched up her hair in case it got dishevelled due to the impact. 

“On the contrary, my Lady. It is I who should be apologising.” Responded a cool and collected feminine voice. 

Blinking rapidly to gather her thoughts, Amalia finally allowed herself to pay more attention to the person she collided against. She was a Cra in her twenties, with short platinum hair and vibrant emerald eyes. Just by looking at her the Divine Doll was immediately reminded of her father’s close friend—unlike her people’s matriarch, the woman before her had indeed inherited the Great Huntress’ beauty. 

She might have been staring for a little too long, because the Cra politely clearing her throat snapped her out of her daze. “If you will permit me, Your Grace, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere. So, if you don’t mind…”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” No sooner did the words leave Amalia’s mouth that the Cra left her side, disappearing amongst the throngs of people with a grace and ease that sent the Divine Doll reeling. 

Blinking slowly at the woman’s retreating form just before she vanished, Amalia eventually shrugged at her hurried departure. She was probably there as part of her people’s entourage and had to return to her leader’s side. With wayward thoughts about hopefully catching sight of her later in the evening, Amalia focused back on the mission at hand—joining Master Joris’ Ecaflip sons. 

The sound of boisterous laughter and muttered curses after a few more minutes of walking was all the indication she needed to know she had finally arrived. 

“I don’t know why I even bother to play with you. You always cheat!” Accused the hairless Ecaflip, a slight lisp in his voice. 

“Look who’s talking!” The white-haired Ecaflip shot back, offended. “Need I remind you you used to be a Brakmarian assassin? How’s that for playing dirty?”

“Would you just let it go?! That was like two lives ago!”

“It was our last life and you know it! I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking too forward to dying for real yet, so don’t go taking our nine lives away.”

“You are so dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Says the one who flies off the handle whenever Ush visits…” The other scoffed. 

“Don’t say that show-off’s name in my presence!” He hissed. Literally. His hackles rose and he bore his teeth at that. 

“Um, excuse me?”

“What!?” Both of them snapped, flashing furious glares at whoever dared to interrupt their bickering. To say they felt like slapping themselves at the sight of the famous Divine Doll their father had been talking about standing right in front of them, flinching at their outburst, would be an understatement. 

“I…Is it a bad time? Should I leave you two alone…?” Amalia trailed off, more than ready to get the Heck out of there when the Ecaflip brothers scrambled to stop her. 

“No!” The white-haired one exclaimed, before forcing himself to calm down. He tried again, his tone far kinder, almost like a vendor’s. “No, no, no, my dear. It’s quite alright. You’re not interrupting anything.”

“Just some old brotherly bickering.” The hairless one waved the whole thing off, his large ears tucked to his head betraying his uneasiness. “I’m Atcham, and the lucky fleabag over there is my brother Kerubim. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Kerubim Crépin,” the aforementioned Ecaflip corrected. “But yes, it’s always a pleasure to meet a creature as lovely as you, my Lady.”

That made her giggle, the smile returning to her lips. It was nice to meet someone friendly for a change. “The pleasure is all mine, my name’s Amalia.”

“We know, little lady. Our father has been telling us all about you ever since he met you.” Atcham said, patting the space on the divan beside him and beckoning her closer. Amalia took the seat offered with a smile, careful with her dress. 

“I see. It was him who told me to come with you. I hope that’s okay.”

“Oh, but of course! You have nothing to worry about!” Kerubim assured her, picking up the cards scattered over the table separating him and his brother; he began to shuffle them. “This actually reminds me of my adventuring days.”

“Wait, really? You’re an adventurer?” Amalia leaned forward in her seat, awestruck.

Before Kerubim could get a word in, Atcham corrected, “Was. The most adventurous thing he does now is doing his shop’s inventory and drinking his weight’s worth of bamboo milk.”

His hand coming to rest on top of his necklace—two dice hanging from a rope—, Kerubim grumbled, unamused at his brother’s antics. “Come on, cut me some slack. I’m not getting any younger, you know?”

“I’m only slightly younger than you and I still train every day.” Atcham retorted, not missing a beat. 

At that, Kerubim harrumphed in offence, his arms folding over his chest as he stuck up his nose in distaste. “And yet, I could still beat you any day of the week.” He spat petulantly. 

That got Atcham’s hackles to rise up again, his tail flicking furiously back and forth. Amalia actually had to duck to the side to avoid getting hit by it. “Only because of that ungodly luck of yours, you nepotism-enjoying fleabag!”

Sensing another argument coming, the Divine Doll chose best to intervene, and fast. But mediating between two arguing siblings was easier said and done. She needed to think of something to say that would distract them from each other. But what?

It was then that she caught sight of a waiter balancing a place with several red-tinted glasses. An idea materialising in her mind at the sight. 

“I-I had no idea there were potions that could transport you from one place to another!” She sputtered out, causing both Ecaflips to turn back to her with raised eyebrows at the sudden change of topic. “I can’t even imagine the kind of thing we might have had to do to arrive here if it weren’t for your father sending them to us.”

Exchanging one look, both brothers simply shrugged, reclining back in their divans. The doll fought to urge to sigh in relief. “What can we say? That’s what they’re for.” Kerubim mused. 

“Those potions certainly make travelling long distances easier.” Atcham agreed, before turning his focus back on Amalia. “But I’m sure you guys would have found a way to make it even without them. After all, you have your portals!”

Amalia chose not to comment on how she’d rather have her intestines pulled out rather than go through another Eliatrope portal. It was pretty much the same experience, after all. 

Instead, she said, “I was wondering, how can you get more? You know, out of curiosity.”

But Kerubim and Atcham only shook their heads at her question, their expression regretful. It was Kerubim who spoke. “I’m afraid that isn’t so simple, my dear. Those things are hard to make and even harder to come by, meaning they can be very expensive. Of course, I always try to offer the best possible price to my customers in my shop, but even I can’t really afford to just hand them over either.”

“Which is a pity,” Atcham went on. “Since going anywhere without them can take anywhere from a few days to months, especially if you don’t have mounts like the Cra soldiers or Osamodas do.”

“I see…” That gave Amalia something to think about. So even after all this time the Twelvians hadn’t been able to figure out a better and more accessible way to travel long distances. She was shaken out of her thoughts by the side of a deck of cards being offered to her. 

Looking up, she saw it was Kerubim who held it out for her, a smile on his lips. “Care to play with two old fleabags, my Lady? I must warn you, however; we won’t go easy on you just because you’re a Divine Doll.”

Amalia took the cards with a smile. “I’ve always been curious to find out if what they say about Ecaflips and their luck is true.”

“Oh, in that case you’d better throw in the towel now, my pretty. ‘Cause my brother over here is the luckiest cat on the planet, second only to our father.”

“Your father…?” She raised an eyebrow. Master Joris didn’t strike her as the kind to gamble. 

“Ecaflip.” Both of them answered in unison, and if Amalia had been drinking anything, she would have done a spit take. 

“Your father is Ecaflip?!” She screeched in disbelief. “But I thought it was Master Joris…”

“And he is,” Atcham nodded. “He’s our adoptive father and the one to raise us this current reincarnation.”

“But the Big Tease Himself sired us,” Kerubim finished for him. After a brief pause, he added, “And twenty more children.”

“But that means…” Amalia trailed off, trying to connect the dots even in her disbelieving state. “But that means you’re demigods like me!”

“Why did you think our dad sent you here with us?” Kerubim winked at her with a smirk on his lips. 

Amalia opened her mouth to speak… and promptly closed it again. That actually made sense. However, she had no time to dwell on the implications behind that before a million questions pushed through in her mind. 

“And what’s it like?” She blurted out. When her fellow demigods sent her matching questioning glances, she elaborated. “I mean, being an Ecaflip demigod. I… really haven’t met any before now.”

Their faces lighting up in understanding, the brothers exchanged another glance, this time to decide who should speak. With a gesture from Kerubim, it was Atcham who eventually explained:

“It’s not really that different from being a regular Ecaflip, really.” He shrugged before placing down one of his cards as the game went on. He jabbed a finger his hairy brother’s way, “As I said, this one was especially famous in his prime for being extremely lucky, being Ecaflip’s favourite and all… But other than that, we get a watered-down version of our father’s immortality in the form of nine lives or reincarnations, a place inside the Ecaflip dimension, and not much else, really.”

“Wait, your father plays favourites?” Amalia echoed, aghast. Out of everything the hairless cat had shared with her, her brain had locked in on that particular fact, the concept feeling foreign to her. 

“You bet.” Atcham nodded, while Kerubim tried to be a bit more diplomatic.

“It’s a very common thing among parents, even if they don’t mean to. Although in my case I believe it has to do with the fact that he actually got to ‘raise’ me and grow attached to me, at least, that’s what dad said. It all happened in a past life, you see. And we don’t get to remember those.” He explained, placing his own card down, causing Atcham to click his tongue in distaste as he saw he had the upper hand. “Anyway, I’m sure you’ve experienced something similar with your father, my Lady.”

“What? No, never!” Amalia protested, visibly offended. The mere idea was preposterous. “Father has always been nothing but kind and loving towards every single one of us; he would never play favourites.”

As the Divine Doll focused back on her cards—namely to try not to get too demolished playing against two Ecaflip demigods—, the siblings shared knowing glances. They debated whether to tell her or not, but ultimately chose not to.

What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

..................................................................................................................

It had been less than an hour since Amalia went looking for Master Joris’ sons, and they had already established conversation with at least five different rulers. It was still too soon to determine if they were truly welcoming of their people now or not, but at least bridges were beginning to be built. 

The Iops were a boisterous bunch, although Qilby didn’t appreciate how they seemed to have no interest in the overwhelming source of knowledge he provided, or how they insisted on focusing on the seemingly more physically imposing members of their group. Yugo and Adamaï actually had to stop Chibi and Grougal from entertaining their desire for a playful match, knowing their siblings would demolish them. Phaeris had been challenged to a fight too, but he had always been far wiser in choosing his battles. 

All in all, they seemed like perfectly amicable people, and the least likely to be scheming anything behind their backs. If only because they lacked the capacity to come up with long-term plots…

If possible, the Pandawas were even more affable. The only thing bigger than their queen’s size was her generosity. Not even five minutes into the conversation and she had already offered to share her people’s bamboo milk with them. It took a lot of convincing and a very diplomatic approach on Yugo and Adamaï’s part to kindly reject her offer; they really couldn’t afford to be intoxicated while trying to foster positive relationships with the World of Twelve’s natives. 

The Sufokians were… interesting, to say the least. While they remained unfailingly polite throughout the entire conversation, the empress and his son were particularly standoffish. Their every word seemed to convey a hidden meaning, and the Eliatropes couldn’t tell if they simply didn’t hold them in high regard or if, on the contrary, they didn’t value any other nation beyond their own. It was safe to say at first glance they were the least welcoming of them out of everyone they had talked to tonight.

After talking to the Sram and Enutrof royals—and swearing they weren’t after their kamas to the latter—, Joris redirected them back to Queens Astra and Selene; Bonta’s rulers were seemingly engrossed in their own conversation. When the members of the Council arrived to their side, it was Selene who picked up on their presence. 

“Ah, I see you’re making good use of your time by acquainting yourselves with the other world leaders. I trust everything is going smoothly?”

“We could not have asked for more, Your Majesty. We are truly grateful for this opportunity.” Yugo spoke for all of them, the Eliatropes and their dragon siblings bowing politely in unison to show their sincerity. 

“We only regret that the Brakmarians weren’t as willing to give us a chance.” Adamaï added, testing the waters. If he played his cards right, he could use both nations’ rivalry to get into Bonta’s good graces.  

His plan seemed to work, for a smirk drew itself on Astra’s lips. “It can’t be helped, Brakmar has always done their own thing. Such a backwards nation…” She shook her head regretfully, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, Your Majesty, what do you mean by that?” Nora asked, intrigued. 

“Brakmar’s way of doing things clashes immensely with Bonta’s, and not just because both nations were founded by opposing forces.” Selene explained, although she didn’t elaborate on that last nugget of information. “For instance, Brakmar doesn’t allow women to even attend a gobbowl match, let alone play on their team!”

“It is simply barbaric.” Astra agreed with a scoff. 

“Please, forgive my ignorance, my Queens, but what is gobbowl?” Yugo inquired, genuinely curious. Though he was mostly trying to distract the Bontarians from noticing Phaeris and Mina restraining a fuming Nora from going to Brakmar and giving their rulers a piece of her equal-opportunity-opinionated mind. 

“Oh, that’s true. You haven’t been here long enough to learn about it.” Astra said. 

The attending members of the Council of Six collectively chose not to point out that the Twelvians hadn't really allowed them to know more about their culture until less than a week ago. Instead, they focused their attention on Joris as he went on to explain. 

“Gobbowl is the World of Twelve’s most popular sport, played all over the planet, regardless of the nation.” He explained with the same stoicism so characteristic of him. “However, out of all the nations, no one can match Bonta and Brakmar’s love for it.”

“Although, in Brakmar’s case, it’s more fanaticism than love.” Selene pointed out with a sneer. “They hold it in such high regard they even allow their team’s best player to make decisive calls during trials. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to believe their authority surpasses that of the Prince of Brakmar himself!”

“There’s a match tomorrow, if you’re interested, you can experience it for yourselves. I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourselves immensely.” Astra offered, and that was the most genuine she’d sounded all evening. 

“Thank you kindly, Your Majesty. We’ll think about it.” Yugo replied. “But I believe we should focus first on our diplomatic mission.”

The queens nodded, with Astra motioning for them to follow her. “Of course. There’s actually someone I believe you should meet.” She told them right before leading them somewhere else in the ballroom. 

Yugo immediately understood everything as soon as the monarch stopped, gesturing at the people staring back at them expectantly. “King Yugo, esteemed members of the Eliatrope Council, allow me to introduce you to the Sadida King and Crown Prince; King Oakheart and Prince Armand Sheran Sharm.”

Yugo’s first thought upon finally coming face to face with the representatives of the nature god responsible for the curious little doll living with them had to be that, if Amalia was indiscernible from a regular Sadida woman, then the men got the short end of the stick in the beauty department. 

No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t like male Sadida were ugly per se, it was that it was impossible to tell what they were. Period. The way their hair completely covered their faces did not help matters. Even so, the fact that he couldn’t see their faces didn’t mean he couldn’t sense their aura. 

Even without his wakfu vision, the Eliatrope could feel the sheer power and resilience radiating off their royal family. Just the sight of them was enough for him to fully believe their patron god had played a key role in creating the world they all now lived in. 

Out of the father and son duo, Prince Armand was the most conventionally attractive, even if he wasn’t exempt from his dreadlocked bangs hiding his face from view. What little the Eliatrope King could see of his face, he seemed to possess a squared, chiselled jaw that went alongside his cultivated physique. The fact that he essentially paraded said physique for all to see also helped bring attention to his sculpted body. 

Judging by the way all Sadida present dressed, that is to say, scarcely so, it was clear to see Amalia’s fondness for showing some skin—and going barefoot—was a cultural thing. It was even more shocking to realise Amalia’s fashion choices were actually quite modest in comparison. In fact, Yugo didn’t know what to do with himself at that revelation. His poor heart certainly wouldn’t be able to take it.

If Prince Armand was tall, around Yugo’s own height, that was nothing compared to his father. King Oakheart seemed to be even slightly taller than Adamaï, horns included. He wasn’t as conventionally attractive as his son, with his girth being considerably greater to go along with his height, and his (facial?) hair was far more dishevelled than his son’s well-trimmed do, but his eyes still radiated the kind of wisdom and strength only a true leader could possess. 

Yugo was sure he’d been alive far longer than any other person in this ballroom, and he still could only hope to one day transmit the same energy as the Sadida King did with just his gaze. 

However, regardless of the respect they were due because of their position, more importantly, they were Amalia’s people. If there was someone whose good graces they needed to be in, that was them. 

Which was why Yugo actually went down on one knee as he greeted them, his siblings following suit shortly after. “It is an immense honour to make your acquaintance, oh, powerful Sadida.”

“It is good to finally meet under better circumstances.” Armand commented, and Yugo could feel a chill running down his spine at the tone he used. Surely he couldn’t be talking about…

“It’s all fallen leaves, now, Armand.” The king lightly chided his son, his eyes glinting in warning. His expression turned kinder as he settled his eyes back on the Eliatropes. “Please, forgive my son, King Yugo. As you know, a king can never be too cautious, although his distrusting nature can have its own undesirable consequences.”

Privately, Yugo couldn’t help but think Prince Armand and Efrim actually had a lot in common.

“There is nothing to forgive, for you speak the truth.” Yugo said as he rose from his bowed down position, choosing to remain cordial. “But I must agree with the prince, it is great to finally be able to interact under much better circumstances.”

King Oakheart tossed his head back and let out a thunderous laugh. “Indeed, indeed. And what better circumstances than getting to meet Sadida’s eleventh doll? Her birth alone is a momentous occasion for our people.”

“I can only imagine, my King.” Yugo nodded. 

Armand made a show of looking around. “And where is this famed eleventh Divine Doll? I expected her to be a part of your entourage.”

“Armand…” His father warned him, far too familiar with his son’s abrasive and distrusting nature. 

But Yugo just let it all wash over him, his smile unfaltering. “Seeing as she is not used to such gatherings, Amalia seemed exhausted. So, as per Master Joris’ suggestion, I told her to rest a little alongside his sons.”

When father and son looked down at the ambassador for confirmation, their worries were put to rest by the nod of his head. 

“How gracious of you, King Yugo.” Armand said kindly, but it wasn’t enough to hide the slight sarcasm that dripped from his words. “It’s such a relief to see you take such good care of your bride.”

Just like it did every time any other leader mentioned the same thing, hearing the word ‘bride’ was enough for Yugo to flinch uncomfortably, an action he tried to cover up by clearing his throat. It also caused his siblings to discreetly roll their eyes at how obvious he was being. “While I thank you for your kind words, Prince Armand, it’s hardly anything to write home about. After all, being mindful of how someone’s feeling is just basic decency.”

“Indeed.” The Sadida prince concurred. 

“However, there is a correction I wish to make.”

That got their attention. After exchanging a look with his son, King Oakheart urged him to continue. “Do tell.”

Much like he’d done every time this same conversation took place, Yugo took a deep breath through his nose and prayed his mother would have mercy on him. While admitting to this was meant precisely to avoid future conflicts with the Twelvians, admitting it at all could also lead to trouble. For now, they could only hope for the best. 

“The thing is…” He started, hoping beyond hope the Sadidas wouldn’t take this as a declaration of war or something of the sort. “While Amalia was certainly sent to us for the purpose of becoming my bride, I must admit that is not the case. There is nothing between us beyond a close friendship.”

“Is that so?” The king raised an eyebrow, but because he could get another word in, the Eliatrope rushed in to clarify. 

“Do not misunderstand, please. My people and I are extremely grateful to have been blessed with such an honour as it is to have been sent a Divine Doll, it is simply that I—our people aren’t in need of a queen, and I would hate for Amalia to feel trapped fulfilling a role that cannot guarantee her happiness.

“Rest assured, however, we are doing everything in our power to ensure she feels welcomed and at home at all times.” He did not need to turn around to sense his siblings sending Nora meaningful glances, their younger sister dutifully keeping her mouth shut for once. Mina in particular had a hand over her shoulder in warning.

The Sadida royals could only blink in surprise at that, not sure what else to say. Finally, after an awkward pause, the king cleared his throat as he straightened himself up, Prince Armand mimicking his actions. 

“That is… quite alright, King Yugo.” Oakheart said, not sure where to even begin. “As my son will be able to tell you, we know how challenging it can be to make someone that’s not from the same culture as you feel welcome alongside your own.”

For once, Armand seemed to agree. “Indeed. My wife, Aurora, is an Osamodas princess. It certainly took a while for us to find more common ground once we got married. It certainly helped when she developed a fondness for our haute couture.” He revealed with unmistakable fondness in his voice. 

Yugo almost shuddered upon realising the emotionless Osamodas woman with the bangs covering half her face was the prince’s consort. Was it too bad to hope she wasn’t around whenever he had to interact with her in-laws?

“Nevertheless,” King Oakheart’s hearty voice broke him out of his musings. “We certainly hope you eventually get to introduce Lady Amalia to us. Her existence truly is a blessing for our people.”

Sharing knowing looks with Adamaï, Yugo allowed a genuine smile to grace his features. 

“Of course. I’m sure she’ll love that.”

....................................................................................................................

Amalia was having a blast with Kerubim and Atcham. Granted, she hadn't won a single game, but getting to witness the two siblings bickering over the pettiest things was unendingly entertaining. She might have lost every single round, but she’d been laughing heartily almost the entire time she spent with them. 

“I’m telling you, she kissed me as thanks for helping her!” Kerubim insisted for the fortieth time since the conversation began. 

Atcham simply rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.”

The white-haired Ecaflip pouted. “Why don’t you ever believe me about this sort of thing?”

“Because there’s no reason why a young, beautiful lady like the one you’re describing would ever kiss an old fleabag like yourself, gratitude be darned!” He slammed his cards hard against the table, tired of always hearing the same old song and dance. “If you told me this all happened back when you were still young, maybe I would believe you, but at your age?” He let out a loud, sarcastic cackle before turning his focus back on his cards. “Keep dreaming.”

“It’s still more believable than you losing to Ush because he keeps attacking you whenever you’re distracted…” Kerubim grumbled to himself. When he realised what he’d just said, though, it was already too late. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to utter that black cat’s name in my presence?!” The hairless Ecaflip bellowed. Even from where Amalia was sitting, it looked as if the vein in his forehead was about to pop. 

As Atcham threw himself at his brother and the two of them began to roughhouse, Amalia, who had long given up on playing against them, simply leaned back on the divan, an eyebrow raised. Already used to the old Ecaflips’ childish shenanigans, she remained unflappable as they fought. But she was curious as to what they even argued about.

“Who’s Ush?” She asked, causing the brothers to halt mid-fight. 

Knowing better than to be rude to a lady, the two of them broke away from each other’s hold and dusted themselves off. With a clearing of his throat, it was Kerubim who explained. “Ush Galesh is another one of Ecaflip’s demigod sons, my dear.”

“Oh, so he’s your brother?”

Atcham scoffed at the mere thought. “In name only. Not only is he from another litter, but he’s got the emotional maturity of a teenager. And the arrogance to match.”

While the doll blinked, not sure what to make of it all, Kerubim elaborated on, “Remember what we told you about our father playing favourites, my dear?” Amalia nodded. “Well, Ush never really took not being his favourite well. Even if he claims to hate our father, it’s plain to see he’s just resentful and envious because he doesn’t hold that place in his heart.

“Now, if there’s one thing Atcham is right about is the fact that Ush never really matured. He takes his anger out on anyone who crosses him and, rather than rely on his natural luck and skill as an Ecaflip, he always makes sure to have the upper-hand whenever he faces an opponent.”

“The upper-hand…?” Amalia tilted her head in confusion. 

“He cheats. At everything.” Atcham told her bluntly. Then, he sent his brother a pointed look, as if daring him to contradict him, “Including our fights.”

Kerubim chose to keep his mouth shut for once.

“I see...” Amalia eventually spoke up, rubbing her arm uneasily. “Then it’s no wonder you don’t like hearing about him.” 

Kerubim just shrugged. “It is what it is, my dear. Not all siblings will get along just because they’re blood related. Sometimes families are torn apart by internal factors and everyone is much happier on their own.”

That gave Amalia pause, her expression dimming. Truth be told, she hadn’t quite got over what they said about parents playing favourites, or how that applied even to her father. Would that happen to her family? Was it possible that Sadida played favourites or treated some of his daughters better than the rest and that might cause them to drift apart?

She was his youngest daughter and his masterpiece, according to the Leafy God Himself. Did that make her one of his favourites or…?

Sensing they put the very Divine Doll they were supposed to be looking after on edge, Kerubim and Atcham exchanged panicked glances. What would people think if they found out they made a Sadida Doll cry? They would be branded as worse than some of the most despicable criminals to roam the face of the planet!

People would stop coming to the shop!

As they were running out of ideas on how to cheer Amalia up, Kerubim blurted out, “Would you like something to drink, my Lady?”

That seemed to do the trick, for Amalia’s head snapped up at them and she regarded them curiously. “What?”

“Would you like something to drink?” He repeated, making good use of his vendor’s voice. “It’s been a long night. I’m sure you could use something to quench your thirst.”

Now that he mentioned it, Amalia was feeling quite parched. Something to drink should do her some good. “I actually rather enjoyed some very nice fruit punch from the food table right before we were summoned to dinner. Do you think you could get me a glass of that?” She asked them politely with a smile. 

“One glass of fruit punch coming right up!” Both siblings immediately sprang into action, giving her military salutes before turning around and heading over to the refreshments table. 

As Amalia watched them go, amused, she almost jumped right out of her skin when a suave voice whispered in her ear, “I thought they’d never leave.”

Whirling around in surprise, her eyes widened in shock at the person standing before her. 

“Count Harebourg.” She gasped. 

“Lady Amalia.” He greeted back, a grin on his face. “I was wondering if you would be interested in granting me that dance?”

Amalia actually hesitated. While it was true she longed to go to the dancefloor and that she had been pleasantly surprised by how the count truly looked, she couldn’t quite get over the feeling she got around him. More specifically, the feeling that emanated from Yugo. 

Even though she came to understand the king’s uncharacteristically hostile behaviour came from the fact that the Xelor was paying attention to her, she still didn’t understand what caused it exactly. After all, her main purpose for tonight was to have people paying attention to her, and he hadn’t been anywhere near as angry when others interacted with her throughout the evening. So why did he act like that around Count Harebourg?

There was also the fact that the count himself emanated a dangerous kind of energy. She didn’t know why, but despite Harebourg’s sweet words and kind compliments, the doll couldn’t bring herself to be truly comfortable around him. 

She was about to turn him down when her eyes instinctively searched for Yugo, worried about his reaction. What she saw instead made her grit her teeth in distaste. 

Standing all the way from over the other side of the room, yet drawing her eye like a beacon of light inside a dark space, was the Eliatrope King. And he wasn’t alone. Beside him was the Eniripsa Queen, quite the buxom beauty who kept inspecting the muscles and tattoos on his exposed arms with keen interest. And all Yugo could do in response was flush furiously and sheepishly while making no attempt at wriggling himself free from her grasp. 

Amalia’s irritation flared at the scene. So there she was, worrying about his feelings over seeing her with the count while he let whoever roam their hands all over his body. But again, what else was new? Just like she’d been trying to reach out to him and grow closer, he had been doing everything in his power to avoid her. He only started treating him decently now because he needed her. 

Fine, if that was how it was going to be, she would help him get in Frigost’s good graces. 

Putting on her most charming smile, she took Count Harebourg’s offered hand. “It will be my pleasure to dance with you, Your Grace.”

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.” The count smiled back, a predatory glint in his eye that went unnoticed by Amalia.

.....................................................................................................................

Adamaï could only blink on, unamused, as his brother let himself be inspected by the Eniripsa Queen, choosing that moment to excuse himself to get some drinks. He understood they were on a mission to foster better relationships between their people and the Twelvians, but surely, there had to be a line somewhere. Just with a quick glance at the fairy’s aura it was easy to tell she had no real interest in his brother beyond a medical one, but given how shy and easily-flustered around women Yugo could get, Adamaï was half-expecting him to self-combust anytime soon. 

Having said that, this was nothing compared to the way their king’s brain would draw a blank whenever it came to the pretty flower they harboured. 

That evening, the dragon had to resist the urge to roll his eyes to the back of his skull in exasperation when his twin caught sight of the Divine Doll looking all dolled-up—pun not-intended. He was starting to become intimately familiar with the way Yugo’s breath hitched at the sight of her, the small, almost imperceptible gasp that would leave his mouth each time Amalia donned a different outfit than the one they were used to seeing her with. 

As expected, the moment Yugo went through his portal and landed by her side, he had the exact same reaction. His eyes widened as they travelled up and down every little detail of her body, from her shawl to her skirt, drinking her in. His fingers clearly twitched at the idea of reaching out with his hand and caressing her loose, forest-green hair. And his cheeks were dusted in pink the longer he stared at her.

How Amalia hadn’t noticed all that was beyond him. 

He was so head over heels for his precious flower it was almost laughable. Except for two key factors: on the one hand, Yugo refused to admit, even to himself, that he felt anything for Amalia rather than a close friendship; and, on the other hand, in his denial and for reasons Adamaï himself didn’t fully understand for once, he insisted on keeping her as far away as possible. 

And whether his twin realised it or not, that alone was pushing Amalia away. 

If he didn’t put a stop to whatever hesitation he was feeling at the moment, and soon, he would lose her forever, regardless of what she could have done for their people. 

Just as he returned, two glasses in hand, the Eniripsa Queen seemed to have grown bored with her inspection of the king’s physique and moved on to Nora. Given the queen’s analytical mind, it was plain to see she was far more interested in seeing the anatomical differences between male and female Eliatropes, but seeing as his younger sister was never one to turn down an offer to have a gorgeous woman near, Nora looked as pleased as punch. 

The same could not be said for Yugo, who was hunched forward with his hands resting on his knees, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Adamaï almost snorted at the sight. It didn’t matter if his twin was twenty or several hundred years old; he did not know how to deal with women. 

Not for the first time, Adamaï thanked their mother Amalia seemed completely unaware of the power she held over him. Otherwise, they’d be doomed. 

As he tried to regain his breath, having forgotten how to breathe when the Eniripsa Queen began to fondle his biceps, Yugo saw the glass offered to him from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw Adamaï looking down at him with an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

“Thirsty?” The dragon asked, shaking the glass in front of him to get his attention. 

Rolling his eyes at the ill-concealed double entendre, Yugo took the drink and took a greedy gulp. “Thank you.”

Adamaï shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” He flashed his brother a crooked smile that sent a shiver down his spine. “It must be nice being so popular.”

Yugo pouted. “Shut up. You know it’s not like that.”

“Of course, I know. But just because I know it doesn’t mean others won’t take your insistence on Amalia not being your bride as an open invitation to send wedding proposals to you.”

Yugo almost choked on his drink. “What? No! Of course not!” He insisted, offended. “Can you imagine the uproar that would cause? I can already hear the gossip: ‘The Eliatrope King turns down a Sadida Doll to marry one of our royals instead. How scandalous!’,” he mocked in an overly nasally voice. Then, he scoffed. “Please, as if I would jeopardise our kingdom’s well-being by offending the Twelvians because I disrespected a Divine Doll sent specifically for me…”

Adamaï raised an eyebrow at that, knowing that wasn’t exactly the reason why he wouldn’t choose anyone over Amalia. But he chose not to comment on it. Yugo wasn’t willing to be honest with his feelings, not even to himself, and trying to force someone as stubborn as him to see reason was like pulling teeth.

A real pain. 

“And what about fostering better relationships by letting Amalia marry somebody else?”

Again, Yugo almost did a spit take at his twin's words. Whirling himself to face the dragon so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash, he asked, his voice strangled. “What?”

Shaking his head, Adamaï sighed. “Nothing, forget I said anything.”

Narrowing his eyes on his brother, suspicious, Yugo eventually chose to let it go… Only for him to start yet again when Adamaï said, “I’m just saying, if you insist on explaining to everyone that Amalia isn’t your bride, yet you stand around her like a guard dog whenever someone else seems taken by her, you might end up sending mixed messages.”

“‘Mixed messages’?” He repeated, incredulous. “What are you talking about, Ad?”

But Ad limited himself to sending him a pointed look. And yet, that was enough for Yugo to understand what he meant immediately.

Oh. That.

That didn’t mean he was willing to admit to anything. Sulking, he faced forwards, refusing to meet the dragon in the eye, and took another sip of his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

If it weren’t so frustrating, Adamaï would have actually laughed. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? You’re going to pretend your powers weren’t about to go haywire at the sight of Count Harebourg flirting with Amalia?”

“Hate to break it to you, Big Brother,” Nora’s sarcastic voice said practically out of nowhere. Apparently, the Eniripsa Queen had got what she’d been looking for already, leaving her free. “But green looks much better on Amalia than on you.” 

Yugo frowned, knowing he was going to regret even asking, “What does that even mean?”

“Jealousy.” Qilby oh-so-helpfully supplied, appearing out of nowhere alongside the rest of his siblings. “You were seething with jealousy because your precious flower was no longer paying attention solely to yourself.”

“It’s normal to feel threatened when you stop being the hottest guy in the room. I would know.” Chibi teased, bringing a hand to his chest in mock solidarity. 

Their king actually flushed at that. “That has nothing to do with anything!”

“Then what is the problem?” Mina challenged, an eyebrow raised. The calm in her voice underlaid the fact that her question was merely a formality, for she already knew the answer. She’d known long before Yugo, who still refused to open his eyes to the obvious. “If you’re not bothered by Count Harebourg’s interest in Amalia, then why did you react so strongly to it?”

Pursing his lips in thought, Yugo stubbornly chose to avert his gaze, letting out a sigh through his nose as he took another sip of his drink. “It’s not what you think.”

Because it simply couldn’t be what they all thought. He wasn’t jealous of Count Harebourg! Jealousy implied he feared he would lose Amalia to that half-blind Xelor. But that was ridiculous! The only way he could ever fear losing Amalia to another would be if he had feelings for her, and that wasn’t it. 

As fond as he was of Amalia, it was purely platonic. He was only protective of her because, despite her appearance, she was so young and naïve to the world around her. Her child-like wonder and innocence left her vulnerable to being manipulated for someone’s own selfish gain. 

He could’ve laughed at the thought. In a way, their situations were the opposite of each other: whereas Amalia was built to be a woman yet retained a delightfully young personality, Yugo had spent decades trapped in a child’s body despite his adult mind. And yet, the two suffered the same predicament—regardless of what they did to prove themselves, nobody ever took them seriously. 

As a result, Yugo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a strong kinship with the Divine Doll. Their similar interests and circumstances—including but not limited to their origins, which were extraordinary even by divine standards—made it all incredibly easy to grow close to her. But there were lines he shouldn’t cross. For both their sakes. 

Falling in love with her was one of such lines he would not dare cross. 

He was rudely reminded of that fact that day on the beach, and he hadn’t allowed himself to forget about it ever since. 

Explaining what love was to Amalia and remembering why she had been sent to him in the first place was a sobering reminder of why he couldn’t afford to let his guard down and fall for her. Doing so didn’t just mean potentially falling for whatever trap the gods had set for his people, but it also meant robbing Amalia of her chance to experience love for herself. 

If she truly became his bride, then she would be chained to him for as long as he lived. And the fact that she had been made precisely for that meant she would never be able to aspire for more. Whatever love she believed she felt for him would be a lie, and she didn’t deserve to think whatever one-sided thing there would be between them was love. 

She might be a Divine Doll, but she wasn’t an object. 

Which, apparently, nobody else seemed to be aware of. Wherever he looked, he saw people determined to worm their way into her life and gain her trust so they could eventually use her to further their goals. Inside these walls, Amalia wasn’t her own person, she wasn’t even a Divine Doll worthy of respect and admiration; she was the perfect political tool. 

And everyone was frothing at the mouth at the mere thought of getting their hands on her. 

And Yugo just knew Count Harebourg was the worst out of them. His intentions towards Amalia were downright sinister, no charming façade or well-constructed mask would be able to hide that. 

Unbeknownst to him, his hold on his glass became a little bit tighter. 

Just as Yugo got lost in his own thoughts, his siblings shared worried glances. More importantly, they were frustrated. Not just because Yugo was making things unnecessarily difficult for himself—they’d known him long enough to know that was just a staple of him—, but because they couldn’t do much to help. As close as they all were, Yugo had always liked dealing with his issues alone, sometimes not even Adamaï had access to his innermost worries and desires. The most they could do was to try and talk to him and hope something they said stuck with him long enough for him to see the error of his ways. 

It was clear his feelings for Amalia would be no different. 

Waiting for their king to snap out of his trance on his own, Grougaloragran let his gaze sweep around the room, bored with the lack of action. For a moment, his eyes landed on the dancefloor and the couples moving to the beat of the music but, growing disinterested even as he saw Amalia in Count Harebourg’s arms, swaying to the music, he focused on somewhere else. 

…until what he’d just borne witness to registered in his mind and he was forced to do a double take. 

Oh, Yugo was not going to like this. 

“Uh, Yugo?” He called out to his king over his shoulder. “Grougaloragran believes you should take a look at this.”

Letting out a sigh, Yugo began, “What is it, Grougal—?”

Only to be immediately cut off by what he saw. 

As his eyes followed Amalia and Harebourg as they danced, his blood reached the boiling temperature. A loud crack! echoed throughout the room as whatever remained of his drink splashed against the floor, the shattered pieces of glass falling from his hand.

...................................................................................................................

“I must admit I didn’t expect you to be such a talented dancer, my Lady.” Count Harebourg mused aloud. “Have you ever danced before?”

“You seem to be forgetting my father is known precisely for dancing on the ridges once spring arrives, Your Grace. It is only natural that his own daughters would follow in his footsteps.” Amalia smirked.

The Xelor chuckled. “How shameful of me. I hope you can forgive me, Lady Amalia.” He told her jokingly. 

Amalia pretended to think about it. “Well, I suppose I can be merciful just this once.” She giggled. 

“You have my thanks.” Count Harebourg smirked back at her. 

Amalia had to admit, this wasn’t so bad. Sure, a part of her would’ve still preferred to dance with Yugo, but the count acted like the perfect gentleman the whole time. She was finally having some fun of her own, and Count Harebourg always made sure to make her feel comfortable and beautiful, constantly showering her with compliments and words of praise. She didn’t understand how she’d come to doubt him before. 

She wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the night with someone who actually seemed to care about her. 

“Do you know that we actually have something in common, my Lady?”

Amalia hummed absentmindedly, asking him to elaborate on that. 

“I’m actually a demigod myself.” The count explained, and Amalia almost had to do a double take at that. 

Her brown eyes wide, she asked, “You are?”

It was the count’s turn to hum. “That’s right. Xelor is my father.” He chuckled, but it sounded hollow. “I suppose that much was to be expected, given my race.”

“Oh.” For a while that was all Amalia could say, her brain scrambling to catch up with the conversation. Finally, she weakly offered. “Um, I remember meeting him in Inglorium. Right before I was sent here…”

“Oh? And, do tell, what was he like?”

A strained smile stretched over the doll’s lips. What was she supposed to say?! She had barely talked to the guy for, what, five minutes? That was hardly enough time to form an educated opinion on someone’s true character. Especially when all you could focus on as you talked to them was the fact that their eyes and mouth were on their torso and how disturbing that whole imagery was. 

“He has his mouth and eyes on his torso. That’s creepy.” Her eyes widened in alarm when she realised she actually said that aloud. 

She felt a little bit better when she heard him laugh, loud and unrestrained. He had a nice laugh. The feeling didn’t last long, being replaced shortly after by anxiousness taking hold of her heart at what he said next. 

“That’s actually the nicest thing that comes to mind whenever I think about him.” Count Harebourg admitted, taking his hand off her waist to wipe a tear off his eye. 

“Really?” Amalia found herself asking. Her heartbeat skyrocketed when the white-haired man’s face morphed into a much more sombre expression. 

He remained quiet for a second, pensive, and then, with the same tone of voice one would use to share a secret, he told her:

“Lady Amalia, the truth is I hate my father.”

.....................................................................................................................

To say Yugo was livid would be an understatement. His left eye hadn’t stopped twitching since he caught sight of Count Harebourg with his hands all over Amalia. He had half the mind not to open a portal right beside him and shoot a wakfu beam at the space between them as his first, and only, warning. 

The half of his mind who held him back from inflicting bodily harm on that pompous, one-eyed Xelor was called Adamaï, and he was very busy trying to keep up with his Eliatrope twin while the latter was on the verge of suffering a conniption. 

“Look at him, flirting so shamelessly with someone else's bride. Can you believe it!?” Yugo all but screeched, gesturing wildly at the two as they danced.

It took every ounce of the dragon’s strength not to roll his eyes in exasperation. “Um, didn't you just spend about half an hour going around and explaining that, while we're truly honoured to take Amalia in, she is not your bride?”

“Yes, but I didn't explain it to him!” Yugo shot back, irate. 

“Of course you didn’t.” Adamaï couldn’t help but to think to himself. Aloud, he said, “If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just go talk to them?”

“I can’t just do that!”

“Right, because doing so would be essentially admitting that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not—!” Yugo began, raising his voice. At least, until he noticed the curious eyes staring back at him for his outburst, which caused him to force himself to lower his voice, almost to a whisper. “I’m not jealous.”

This time, Adamaï did roll his eyes in annoyance, but his twin ignored him.

Yugo was having a really hard time standing still. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to march over there, grab Count Harebourg by the shoulder, maybe punch him in the face for good measure, and bring Amalia back to them. But, on the other hand, doing so could result in a number of consequences he’d do best to avoid. 

Firstly, much to his chagrin, Count Harebourg was an important figure in the World of Twelve, being the ruler of Frigost and all. Secondly, he really didn’t want to cultivate the image of a violent, ill-tempered king who went around punching people he didn’t like. There was no point in trying to be diplomatic this whole time if he then acted anything but. And finally, there was Amalia herself. 

Even if every fibre of his being was telling him to go get her, he still had no right to interfere. Regardless of her nature, she was not an object and she wasn’t a child, she could make her own decisions. He couldn’t just intervene in her business, especially when they were nothing to each other, at least not romantically. 

As he brought a hand to his chest in an attempt to alleviate the painful pang that resounded in his ribcage at that particular train of thought, he almost didn’t hear Adamaï when he said, “Seriously, if it bothers you so much, you could always talk things out with Count Harebourg. After all, technically speaking, you’re higher up in the pecking order.”

Under no circumstances, shape or form did the two of them let out high-pitched screams at the sudden sound of Master Joris’ voice coming from behind them. 

“If I were you, I’d be careful around Count Harebourg, Your Majesty.” Master Joris’ warning rang ominously, his black eyes narrowed into slits. Once he’d recovered from the fright, his words registering in his mind, Yugo couldn't help but scoff. 

“You can just call me Yugo, Master Joris. After all, you already trespassed our territory uninvited. What's the point in formality?” 

Unbeknownst to him, Joris squinted his eyes at him, intrigued by the new edge in the king’s voice. One that, interestingly enough, hadn't been there when he indeed presented himself at his palace, uninvited. Though glancing back at the dancing couple, he had a pretty good guess as to why that was. 

“Anyway, why do you say that? Do you know the count?”

Joris nodded. Honestly, he wished he didn't. “Count Harebourg is an old enemy of mine.”

Yugo and Adamaï’s eyes widened at such revelation, taken aback. “Aren't you an esteemed member of Bonta’s court?” Another nod. “Then why would the queen invite one of your enemies to a banquet you will be attending?”

“Because, regardless of his actions, Count Harebourg is still the ruler of Frigost.” His eyes flickered back to Yugo, the way his jaw clenched a clear indication of how serious he was. “The count’s greatest priority is his people, first and foremost. Anything else is superfluous.”

“Isn't that a quality a good leader should have?” Adamaï asked, not following.

“Indeed, all good leaders should worry about their subjects’ well-being.” Joris agreed, but it was short-lived. “However, never to the extent of being willing to sacrifice another nation for their sake. Trust me, Your Majesty, Master Adamaï, Count Harebourg is not above using others to achieve his goals. And I fear someone like Lady Amalia is ripe with opportunity.”

“You think he has ulterior motives for trying to get close to Amalia?”

“All I’m saying is it would be unwise to underestimate him.” Joris insisted, but his answer was already all Yugo needed to know where Harebourg stood. 

For the first time since he first met the man a scarce few hours ago, Yugo felt something other than irritation—genuine fear for Amalia's sake. “Is he truly that dangerous?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically small. 

Joris’ expression turned grave. “Let's just say you aren't the only demigods attending, my King.”

The twins exchanged alarmed glances, knowing how dangerous a demigod Xelor could be. Adamaï in particular grew irritated. 

“Didn’t you send Amalia to your sons precisely to keep her safe?” He demanded to know. 

“And I will have a talk with them about it, Master Adamaï. However, that doesn’t change the fact that Count Harebourg had most likely been waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce.”

Yugo’s heartbeat resounded in his ears, panic taking hold of his heart and squeezing it tightly. He had to clench his fists until his knuckles turned white to keep himself grounded, to prevent himself from creating a string of portals that would lead him directly to Amalia and allow him to hold her close while he took care of that forsaken count. 

He couldn’t act on his instincts, he had to be diplomatic about it. It’d be best if they waited until the music died down to go look for her. That was the right choice, the kind of choice a king should make. He was doing the right thing, for himself and his people. 

Then why was it physically painful?

Mina’s voice by his side was both a balm to his fears and a fan to the flames. He must have been so out of it he didn’t even register when she slid up next to him. 

“I know you’re trying to do the right thing, Yugo.” She told him, her voice kind. How was she so good at seeing right through him? “And the right thing is making sure Amalia is alright.”

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes unblinking. Mina limited herself to pointing at the dancefloor, where the doll and the count were standing in plain sight. “Whatever it is the count’s trying to do, it’s not a simple dance anymore.”

Terror taking over him at the implications behind her words, Yugo snapped his head back to the direction she was pointing at. A powerful thud! resounded in his ribcage at the image before him, his protective senses flaring alongside a sense of rightful fury. Even from where he stood, he could see Amalia, her eyes wide and frantic as a frightened expression clouded over her features. Holding her with a vice-tight grip was Count Harebourg, the look on his face was downright nightmarish. And yet, the most terrifying thing of all had to be the very real possibility that the Xelor might hurt her. 

Under Adamaï’s worried eyes, the ears in his hood twitched; that was never a good sign. His fears were confirmed shortly after. 

Before the dragon could so much as blink, Yugo had already jumped inside a portal, a bright blue trail following behind him as he moved from one portal to the next, headed straight towards the dancefloor. 

Towards Amalia. 

Their siblings, who had watched the whole exchange, all sent pointed glances at Nora. Except for Phaeris, who just raised an eyebrow at his sister’s methods. And people said he could be a tad extreme. 

“Aren't you supposed to be the mediator? You know, the one who solves conflicts?” Chibi questioned her, incredulous. 

But Mina didn’t even flinch at his outburst, her smile remained exactly where it was. 

“Sometimes the best way to solve an argument is by causing it.” She shot back enigmatically, before turning around and moving deeper into the throngs of people. 

Not for the first time that day, her siblings exchanged helpless glances, hoping beyond hope she didn’t make a mistake. Much like how they prayed to the Great Goddess that Yugo wouldn’t get in trouble for whatever he was about to do. 

......................................................................................................................

The count’s words were so unexpected, Amalia couldn’t help but break their hold, taking one step back in shock. As she stared back at the Xelor, her eyes wide in disbelief, the only sound that left her throat was a quiet, “What?”

But the count just shrugged, as if he hadn’t just shaken her perception of reality. “Don’t act so surprised, my Lady. It’s hard to feel any affection for someone who not once has been there for you when you needed him.”

That… made sense, she supposed, just like she could understand Ush’s distaste for his own father if it was true Ecaflip favoured some of his children more than others. Still, there was something in the way the count uttered those words—so matter-of-factly, so casually, almost as if it was a simple, undeniable fact of life—that sent a shiver down her spine. 

Her unease only grew with each other word that left her fellow demigod’s mouth. 

“And that is another thing you and I have in common.” He let out a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve always heard misery loves company, but I never truly appreciated its meaning until now.”

When the doll found her voice, it was distinctly small and anxious, “I…I don’t think I understand.”

The count’s affable tone did nothing to keep his words from feeling like cold knives aiming at her heart. “But Lady Amalia, don’t you see? We’ve both been abandoned by our respective divine fathers.”

And just like that, the ice cold fear taking hold of her heart melted away, replaced by rightful fury at such blasphemy. How dare he insult her father like that? How dare he insult her like that? How dare he? 

“My father has not abandoned me, Your Grace.” She told him firmly, her tone stern as she balled her hands into fists. 

Her frown only hardened into a scowl when he had the audacity to laugh at that, to laugh at her.

“Lady Amalia, your faith in your father is wonderfully refreshing, but you must face the facts.” Just then, a shadow passed over his features, the smile disappearing completely from his face. “As soon as you were created, your father dumped you here to serve as somebody else’s bride, with no care for your feelings or input. Can you really tell me Sadida hasn’t forsaken you?”

For a moment, the doll hesitated, biting her lip. Still, her father loved her. She was his masterpiece, he said so himself! And he was extremely saddened to watch her go. Besides, she wasn’t sent to the World of Twelve on a whim of her father’s, she was there for a reason. 

“I’m here because the Eliatropes need me—” Amalia began to defend herself, only to be cut off by the sound of the count’s loud, unnerving laughter. 

When his cackles died down and he finally looked her in the eye, it made Amalia wish he’d kept his mask on. The look on his face was the stuff of nightmares. 

“The Eliatropes, you say?” He asked, even though he didn’t wait for an answer to continue. “Lady Amalia, can’t you see how those low-lives don’t deserve you? They have no right coming to our world and demanding our approval and cooperation. And now they believe themselves worthy of being sent a Divine Doll? They believe themselves worthy of you?” He let out a low, sardonic laugh, his manic eye fixed on her form. 

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Before she had time to react or even register the way the partygoers were all looking at them, Count Harebourg held the Sadida Doll by her arms tight enough for her to bruise where his fingertips made contact with her skin. As that ice-powered madman stared deep into her soul, all she could do in her frightened state was to let out a pained gasp. 

“Amalia, come with me to Frigost. If there’s one nation in the World of Twelve that would benefit from you becoming its ruler, that’s my home! Together, we can make everyone pay for turning their backs on us, we can get revenge on the gods for siring us and forsaking us when we need them most! For treating us like we’re replaceable instead of their own flesh and blood! 

“You and I are kindred spirits, Lady Amalia, and soulmates like us must stick together.” Count Harebourg’s lips curled into a smile that was meant to be encouraging but that, combined with the almost frenzied look in his eye, only made him look like a madman. “You already hold my heart, my Lady, all that’s left to do is for you to become my countess and to rule Frigost by my side.”

Much to her chagrin, Amalia was paralysed, her mind completely blank as she found herself genuinely fearing for her life. The sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears was so loud, and her eyes so fixated on the man in front of her, she remained completely unaware of the surprised gasps echoing all around her or the flashes of blue light coming from her periphery. 

Even as the count’s expression darkened into a hate-filled scowl, she remained out of it until the Xelor was shoved back and away from her with incredible force while a pair of strong, warm, protective arms held her close to an equally warm and strong body. For the first time that night, Amalia allowed herself to just melt into that person’s embrace, feeling safe at last.

She could stay in that comforting embrace forever if given the chance. 

Once she’d willed her breathing to go back to normal, the doll chanced to glance up at her mysterious saviour. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Yugo, his eyes shining a bright blue as his gaze bore down on the count menacingly, a hand outstretched and glowing ominously in case his opponent tried anything funny. 

He held her even closer when Count Harebourg got back up to his feet, his own eye shining with fury at the interruption. “You!” He snarled, encasing his arms in ice sharp enough to cut through steel. 

But before a fight could ensue, Queen Astra’s voice cut through the thick atmosphere like a knife. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Count Harebourg.” She warned, her guests parting to let her pass. At her feet, Master Joris brandished his log-backpack, his intentions clear.

One by one, the Bontarian guards stationed alongside the walls all came to point their weapons at the Xelor count, at the same time as the members of the Council of Six all came to their king’s aid, daring their opponent to make his move. 

Looking around for a way out, Count Harebourg eventually surrendered, his shoulders slouching in defeat as he dispelled the ice on his arms. But not before flashing Yugo a hate-filled glare, a snarl curling at his lips. And with that, he let himself be enveloped by a cold breeze and disappeared. 

As soon as the count vanished, the weight of everything that had just happened, as well as everything leading up to that moment, crashed over Amalia, overwhelming her senses to a point it was almost painful. Her mind a turbulent storm, she wriggled herself free from Yugo’s grasp and stormed off towards the balcony, desperate for some air. 

After a quick glance his siblings’ way to ensure they’d be fine without him, a concerned Yugo was soon to follow.

................................................................................................................

The moment she made it past the threshold leading to the balcony, Amalia groaned, exasperated, “That was just infuriating!”

“Can’t really argue with you there. I’ve been getting a bad feeling from the count since we met him.” Yugo agreed, his eyes back to their usual dark brown. 

He had to take a step back in surprise when Amalia whirled around to face him, a fire in her eyes, “I was talking about you!”

Yugo’s jaw dropped. “Me? But I just saved you from that freak!”

With a humph! Amalia turned back around, crossing her arms. “I didn’t need your help!” She insisted petulantly. 

He couldn’t believe his ears. Mouth agape, he shot back, raising his arms in the air in exasperation. “Don't you see what that guy was trying to do from the very beginning?”

“At first he was just being nice to me!” She countered. Deep down, Amalia knew Yugo was right, but she wasn’t in the right headspace to concede anything. So she pressed on.

“Yeah, to get into your pants!” He shouted.

“I don't see how that's possible, since I’m not even wearing pants today!” She screeched right back.Then, she added, haughtily sticking her nose up in the air. “Besides, you heard Master Joris; no Twelvian in their right mind would dare lay a finger on me.”

Yugo could only blink at her, incredulous. She had to be kidding him. There was no way they were having this conversation. Not after what just happened. 

“I’m sorry, but was he supposed to realise he wouldn't dare hurt you before or after he grabbed you by the arms tight enough to leave bruises on your skin?”

Amalia didn’t respond, she just stared stubbornly to the side. That lit a fire within Yugo, the outrage he felt growing by the second. So that was how it was gonna be, huh? He spent the entire night worrying for her safety, trying to look out for her, and even saving her from that lunatic, and this was how she repaid him?

He wouldn’t have been able to keep the bitterness out of his mouth even if he tried. “Maybe I should’ve let him take you to Frigost with him, seeing as you didn’t need my help.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re any better.” She shot back, turning her body completely so her back was to him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Eliatrope asked, his voice low. 

But she didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him. 

So, mustering every last bit of patience he had, he tried again. “Amalia, what’s that supposed to mean?”

She still refused to even acknowledge his presence. 

“Amalia!”

Still, nothing. Growing exasperated, Yugo almost reached out to her to force her to look at him, but taking notice of how tender the skin Harebourg had grabbed her by looked, he ultimately decided against it. In the end, he opened a portal right in front of her, determined to get her to explain herself. 

What he saw broke his heart in two. 

Even as she still refused to meet his eyes, it was plain to see she was crying, the tears streaming down her cheeks regardless of how hard she tried to keep them at bay. And the way she was desperately hugging herself for comfort only made his heart throb painfully.

“Amalia…” His anger momentarily forgotten, he tried reaching out to her, only for her watery voice to stop him in his tracks. 

“Deep down you’re just like the count, Yugo.” She said, her words like knives to his heart. “You don’t care about me as a person at all, you only care about what I can offer to you and your people.”

“Amalia, that’s not true at all!” He tried to defend himself, aghast by her accusation. “You’re my friend, of course I care about you!”

Much to his consternation, Amalia let out a loud, sardonic laugh, before her eyes turned into daggers as she finally stared back at him. “Oh, really? Is that why you’ve been ignoring me ever since we came back from the beach? Is that why you haven’t been training in front of my balcony anymore? Why, no matter how hard I try to get close to you, you do everything in your power to avoid me? Is that why you recoil from my touch as if my mere presence disgusted you?!”

As she spoke, each word filled with anger, confusion, and hurt, she took one step forward after another, forcing Yugo to go back little by little. She made sure to punctuate each question with a poke of her finger into his chest. The only reason it hurt had nothing to do with the force behind it, but because her words felt like a suckerpunch. 

“What do you expect me to believe, Yugo?” She asked him rhetorically. “What do you expect me to think when the first time in weeks you spend with me has nothing to do with you wanting to be by my side, but because your people need me! Something you couldn’t even talk to me about in person. Oh, no! I had to find out through the Royal tailor!” The doll threw her arms to her sides, the tears falling freely down her cheeks.

“You’re surrounded by your family and people who love you, Yugo, but I only have you. But you…” She choked on her tears, her voice watery and broken from weeks of holding it all back. And yet, Amalia made sure to look him in the eye as she sobbed, “You want nothing to do with me…”

And finally, as her voice broke when she uttered those last few syllables, she brought her hands to her face and she sobbed. Her shoulders going up and down as she hiccuped, brokenhearted. And yet, Yugo felt like he was the one who had his heart ripped off his chest at the sight of her. At the sight of what he’d caused. 

Swallowing hard, he was forced to face the truth. Amalia was right. She was right about everything. Since there was no guarantee they would ever fall in love, he had promised he’d be her friend, only to break that promise as soon as he got scared. The moment they came back from the beach he didn’t just keep her at arm’s length, he refused to even see her unless it was absolutely necessary. 

And, more often than not, it was her who would be looking for him, not the other way around. 

He always got defensive and protective of her whenever she wasn’t near, her happiness becoming a priority. But whenever the doll was within reach, his doubts weighed him down and prevented him from treating Amaia like she deserved. 

With a heavy heart, he was forced to realise the only reason Count Harebourg got close to her in the first place had been because he allowed it. 

“Amalia, I…” He started, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry. I… I haven’t been fair to you. I-I got so caught up in other things, I didn’t even realise how that made you feel, and I… I’m so sorry.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie, just not the whole truth either. Regardless, he went on. “You don’t deserve the way I’ve been treating you. You’re right, I haven’t been a good friend. But I really want to make it up to you. From now on, I promise to do better, okay?”

She let him place his hands over her shawl-covered shoulders. He supposed that was a start. Tentatively, carefully, he brought his arms around her body, holding her close in an attempt to offer some comfort. His breath almost hitched when she snaked her arms around his sides, just as cautiously. Even in her current state, scared, angry, and tear-stricken, she still allowed him, one of the people responsible for everything, to hug her. 

He’d really screwed up, hadn’t he?

After a few more minutes where the only sound that could be heard in the balcony were her quiet sniffles, the Divine Doll broke their hold enough for her to look up at him from under her lashes. Even with her brown eyes red and puffy, Yugo couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she was, his eyes soft. 

“You really mean that?” She asked in a small voice. 

“Of course!” He assured her. “I promise, I’ll do anything in my power to make it up to you. Is there anything you want to do?”

She remained quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and then… “There’s a thing or two I’d like to do.”

“Tell me, I’m all ears. Whatever it is, we’ll do it.”

“I’d really like to dance with you.” She told him, a flush dusting her cheeks. “I’ve been meaning to ask you all evening, but I didn’t think you would accept.”

He smiled at her. Sometimes she was satisfied with the simplest things. “Of course, I’ll dance with you, Amalia.”

Steadily growing in confidence, she added. “And… and you haven’t said anything about my dress. I lost count of how many times I got pricked by a needle for this, you know?”

If anything, his grin only widened. “There’s no words to describe how you look, Amalia.” He told her honestly. 

Her blush deepening, the doll had to cough slightly before she finally said, glancing shyly back at him. “You… you don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Why, thank you. Anything else?”

“Yes, I’d like to do something fun while we’re here in Bonta.”

“Actually, I might just have the perfect thing.” He smirked. 

“Oh?”

“That’s right. Queen Astra suggested we stay to watch the gobbowl game taking place tomorrow. Apparently, it’s a huge deal around here.”

Amalia wasn’t quite sure what to expect. “If you say so…”

...................................................................................................................

As they watched the Eliatrope King and Sadida’s eleventh doll dancing, both of them sporting blinding smiles on their faces as they swayed to the music and King Yugo twirled Amalia around, her skirt and shawl fluttering behind her with every step, Prince Armand couldn’t help but raise a curious eyebrow at the display. He turned to his father.

“Do you really believe there’s nothing going on between them—?”

“Not even for a second, son.”

.............................................................................................................

“Oh, sweet Sadida!” Amalia exclaimed, completely awestruck. “And that last transfer?!”

“I know!” Yugo agreed, beside himself with excitement. “Man, that Kriss Krass fellow sure knows how to put on a show!”

Walking a few feet ahead of them, Adamaï couldn’t help but smile to himself as his brother and his precious flower bonded over gobbowl. Looking over his shoulder, he had to admit it was quite endearing to see how they discussed the match so animatedly, their hands clasped and their eyes glimmering as they recounted the moments that stood out the most to them. 

Seeing them now after weeks of tense interactions, standing so close to each other and even hugging each other tightly whenever Kriss Krass’ team scored, was all he needed to feel reassured. 

No matter what came next, they would be fine. It was only a matter of time before that thing going on between them blossomed into something more.

#wakfu #wakfu fanfiction #my fanfiction #wakfu au #divine doll! amalia au #the doll and the dragon #divine doll! au #sadida doll! au #yugo the eliatrope #amalia sheran sharm #yumalia #adamaï #qilby #nora #chibi #grougaloragran #phaeris #mina #master joris #joris jurgen #kerubim crepin #atcham #count harebourg #king oakheart sheran sharm #armand sheran sharm #queen astra #shinonomé #ankama #krozmos #dofus

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Do you think he was ever in love with Bedelia like he was in love with Will? I ask this because Bedelia says they were both the "brides of Hannibal". But Hannibal never courted her like he did with Will, Bedelia came into Hannibal's life much before Will but he never pursued her like he did with Will.  Mads said he wanted a future with Will unlike with other people he hooked up with Alana, Bedelia or Anthony. He took her to Italy as a consolation prize when Will betrayed him. Even in Italy H was pining about Will all the time and telling Bedelia how much he loves Will.  I know he slept with Bedelia but he probably slept with Anthony too and he slept with Alana, Hannibal is a hedonistic guy who sleeps around. For him  sleeping with someone doesn't mean he is in love with them.  On the other hand he took a bullet for Will, went to prison for years for Will, made a human heart for Will, jumped off a cliff for Will, committed a whole massacre for Will. But when Will confronts Bedelia, she pretends as if Hannibal held them in the same regard which is obviously not true. Hannibal would choose Will over her in a heart beat and even she knows it  but yet she acts as if Hannibal sees them both equally. I don't understand why? 😭 Why do you think?why make herself seem like a competition when she is not?

My personal take on it is that Bedelia is Hannibal's Molly. Molly/Bedelia was the second choice, pursued after the man that Will/Hannibal wanted acted unexpectedly and now he has to live without him.

Bedelia and Will were both Hannibal's brides, the same way Hannibal and Molly are both Will's.

The ultimate difference between Will and Molly and Hannibal and Bedelia lies in what the women saw and how much they accepted. Will worked hard to keep his true self from Molly and she was content with the fact that she'd never be able to see all the way behind the mask. Hannibal exposed a lot of himself to Bedelia, and what little he didn't show, she forced the mask the rest of the way off so she could see it. Molly offered common courtesy and a happy family picture to escape to whereas Bedelia offered a safe façade to escape with, with no remorse for her prying actions.

I do think Hannibal slept with Bedelia because regardless of the intimate hints that were there (unzipping Bedelia's dress, him walking around shirtless without his hair slicked back, her bathing him), Bedelia is a curious creature and her curiousity shows itself as gluttony. I don't actually think it's lust that she felt for him, and definitely not love, but she wanted to glut herself on every detail about the way Hannibal's mind and body worked, and she wanted to be the only one to know both, or at least be the first. She's a hedonist, just like Hannibal, so it wouldn't surprise me in the least if between her curiousity and both their hedonism, they slept together once to experiment and it ended up working for both of them, even if it was an emotionless act, so they continued doing it.

And I think Will was tolerant of his marriage with Molly. It's really funny the way the loop works out because I've already elaborated on how Bedelia is Hannibal's Molly, but I think Molly is also what Alana would've been to Will if they'd pursued a relationship earlier on. She's sweet and friendly and beautiful. She's good with kids and Will's dogs. She appears delicate and lighthearted but is actually quite headstrong when those she cares about are put in danger. She's tolerant. She's the perfect wife, and she always will be until the moment Will exposes himself and his desire to pursue darker interests, to pursue Hannibal. Then he's not a good husband, and it's hard to be a good wife for a bad husband. Molly at the very least didn't have the chance to leave Will; he made that choice for her.

But in the end, hedonism and tolerance are very different than true happiness and acceptance. So no, I don't think Hannibal loved Bedelia. I think she was a distraction and a means to an end and an escape to an unfulfilling life because Hannibal couldn't have the good life that he wanted with Will. And to some extent I think Molly was all that for Will too.

#got kinda off track there whoopsie #lmao #what a fun question though #hannibal #hannibal analysis #hannibal lecter #will graham #bedelia du maurier #molly foster graham #alana bloom #hannibal season 3 #ask #anon ask #dot says

[rainee-da]

Your First 'I Love You' - 🪞 / 🎪 / 🍮

This is my first headcanon I made in this blog. I've read Mashle before but just fallen in love with it after watching the anime. It fuels the delulu that has long died down inside of me lololol-

I really can't wait for Devil's Quintuplet (Mash's brother) to appear in the next season hopefully so I created this specifically for them. They need some love too!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!🍀

CHARACTER ❥ Doom / Famin / Epidem GENRE ❥ Fluff WARNING ❥ Spoilers!!!! and maybe might be a bit OOC, depending on how you interpreted the character. Also, my English is not that good since it's not my main language. Feel free to correct me if I made a mistake, but please be nice!

D O O M 🪞

He paused instantly, sword hanging in the air as he stuck in position for a while.

Poor him, his brain is buffering for a moment. You saying this in the middle of his training didn't help either.

Please help him lower his hand, he's going to give himself cramps with all the weight of those swords hanging in the air.

"I'm sorry dear, I think I misheard your words before... can you repeat that to me again?"

You repeat your words, declaring your love again. This time he heard it all, and his brain is buffering again lol.

Not for long though, because after this he let out a gentle sigh, and his usually stoic face morphed into a gentle one. A small, genuine smile plastered on his face.

He settles his sword to the side and approaches you slowly, hand reaching out to touch your face. To map your expression to ingrain it in his mind.

He has long accepted his blindness. But you made him wish he had a set of eyes to be able to see your lovely expression.

"It's nice to know such loveliness still exists in my dark world. Thank you, dear... and I love you too."

After this, he'll speak to you more lovingly and express his love more bolder than he did previously. 

However, he'll still need to be mindful and keep it minimum when in public. Especially around his father because yikes.

He loves and appreciates you so much, though he sometimes doesn't express it clearly. But he's willing to make an effort, so you will believe that it's true when he says that he feels the same way.

F A M I N 🎪

"That's nice," is all he said. As he stares at you with a blank face.

If you didn't know any better, you may thought that he didn't care.

But if you've been with him for a while, you'll notice that there's a drastic reaction in his body language.

A twitch at the corner of the eye, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, with palms opening and closing, with head slowly tilting to the side. For his usual expressionless self, this is a highly emotional response coming from him.

He can be more expressive though when he's angry... but you wouldn't want to do that.

"Say it again," his words come out thicker than usual as he grabs your shoulder with both of his hands, leaning closer with face still seemingly devoid of emotion.

Be prepared to say "I love you" repeatedly because he'll make you do that for a while lol.

He can feel his heart skip a beat as you stimulate it by adding variations of phrases and sentences to your confession.

Although you didn't need to do that. Even if you just say the classic three-word confession thousands of times, he wouldn't get bored of it.

Out of everything in the world, you're the only person in his life that he simply can't imagine getting tired of.

After he is satisfied, he'll simply hum and turn away. Deadass leaving you alone like yo what the fuc-

But oh? If you manage to take a glimpse, you'll notice that the tip of his ears goes rosy as he disappears into the corner.

Be prepared to find random gifts at the side of your bed for a while. Don't scream either, though I know you would want to.

Man has the same emotional capacity as a cat after all.

E P I D E M 🍮

He dropped his spoon (wand-spoon?) with a loud clatter. His head snapped to look into your eyes, and his mouth formed into a silent 'o' as he stared at you in silence.

"Is this for real? Are you for real, love?" he asked you gingerly, hand raised to caress your cheek.

He's so flabbergasted that he didn't even realize that he also dropped his pudding. That's gonna be your future problem lol

You repeated your confession to his face. The 'o' shape formed in his mouth goes bigger as he stares at you in an awkward silence.

All of a sudden, he lunges towards you and gives you a big hug. You couldn't see his face, but you could still feel his happiness by the way he hummed a happy note, swinging your body side by side.

He leans back to look at your face, and now you can see that his face which is usually so composed and calm except when he's having a pudding withdrawal is decorated with a warm smile as he stares at you with eyes full of love.

He leans forward and peppers your cheek with a kiss, mumbling about how soft and fluffy your cheeks are. A giggle escaped from his mouth when you yelped at the way he bit into your cheek.

He can't help it! After all, you're just like a pudding! You're so soft and fluffy and adorable like- his mind will go into a tangent as he internally has cuteness aggression.

"I was waiting for you to say that, I'm so happy my love! Like a pudding, you just know how to make my heart flutter with joy!"

Talking about pudding, now you gotta deal with his temper tantrum as soon as he realizes that he dropped his pudding. Hopefully, you brought him an extra one.

Oh yeah, he loves you too :) after pudding though... maybe?

I run into a writers block when writing this and I really need to sleep, so I'll make one for Delisaster, Domina, and Cell War at a later time (sooner if the reaction is good).

I really hope you like it~ have a good day! 🍀

#mashle #mashle x reader #doom x reader #famin x reader #epidem x reader #doom #famin #epidem #devil's quintuplet

[trashyreptilian]

And here I am with one reference sheet done! Only a FUCK-ton more to go haha,,,

Reblogs are appreciated! :3

===============================================

Biography (long read):

-General Info-

Full Name: Alfred Thorn

Age: 18

Height: 6'0'' ft

Gender: Male

Sex: Male

Species: Human

Homeplace: Huntstrail, Michigan (USA)

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Greyromantic asexual

-Other Info-

Personality?: Seemingly a nonchalant type of guy, just living his life and avoids attracting attention. Often feeling like he doesn't fit in with society or any kind of community. He's not much for showing strong emotions, not near random people at least. Typical for him to carry around an "I don't care" attitude and crack jokes during bad times, but it also serves as a means of protecting himself. Being well enough taught that showing his vulnerable side to the wrong people, can possibly be used back against him. The calm exterior hides an emotionally struggling artist, who's suffered through past childhood abuse from his own mother. Sometimes that pain rises to the surface, and accidentally shows up through unexpected mood swings or frustrated/defensive outbursts. However, Alfred knows how badly he manages his own negative emotions. This kind of heated temper shows up when heavily provoked or felt like he's backed into a corner. He may seem like a loner, yet in actuality, he's got a few close select people he cares about a lot. And depends on, more than he'd like to admit. But solely because of that, he shows a strong willingness to go far to protect them. Even if it means he might somehow risk his own life in the process. Seen in these instances, his more assertive and bold-self comes out.

Thinks Before Acting?: It's mixed with him, either does or doesn't depending on the situation. Typically, he'll try thinking over his actions and words. Especially when he can sense a bad outcome if he's not careful. Though, he's far from being the most calculated guy.

Positive Traits?: Mellow, modest, imaginative, soft-hearted, protective and audacious.

Negative Traits?: Reserved, insecure, confrontational, defensive, self-destructive and resentful.

Way Of Speaking?: Can talk in two languages, the main one is American English. Has knowledge in speaking Spanish, but it's kinda subpar. Remembers mostly from the lessons he had in school. On the odd occasion only uses it around his closest friend, Simon, who encourages him to improve. His voice is calm and soft, with no particular accent. At times, loves using a mocking or sarcastic tone. (Headcanon voice: https://youtu.be/2rHRztFGOm8?t=1)

Occupation?: Works as a stock clerk at a furniture store. Assists with unpacking delivered items, organizing the stockroom, inspecting inventory and so forth. Also, he takes overnight shifts when possible for extra cash. Of course, the entire job itself is for financial stability. Otherwise, he cares little about it. Had hoped to get into some kind of art career instead, possibly becoming a cartoonist. Sadly, he's never gotten such an opportunity as he grew up. Didn't help that he lacked complete confidence, and still does to this day. So it all remains but a little fantasy he thinks about.

Powers/Skills?: With Alfred being human, don't expect any overpowered abilities like how demons and angels have. However, in his very rare case, having a supernatural being, more precisely a simulacrum, for a parent did unexpectedly help him improve physically, and made him able to defend himself. At a younger age of sixteen, he was gifted his first weapon which was a pistol Glock 19. With help from his father, he trained in remote areas. Shooting useless items that were used as targets. Now, he's well-practiced enough in using it properly, discreetly carrying it when out at nighttime. Of course, not limited to just a pistol. He's also got a metal bat safely tucked away in his bedroom. But for as long as he's known, anything can be a weapon. In a fight, he'll manage some inventive ways to beat someone up. Not exactly a person with a strong-build, yet he makes up for it in endurance. Fairly fast when running, most likely to outrun anyone. The type of guy to pick his fights. Besides all that, survival skills. Learned a few tricks throughout all the times he's gone out camping, moderately skilled living in the wilderness. Particularly good at starting a fire. Maybe a little too good.

Hobbies?: Main hobby is drawing, pretty much remained so since he was a kid. His art style is very stylized, expressive and exaggerated. Taken inspiration from his favorite animated shows and movies. He'll usually use a regular sketchbook with a pencil and pen to draw. But he dabbles in other unique methods like graffiti, and pastel art. A more recent past time is using a camcorder. What he chooses to record is random. Can either be a quick recording of his father’s cat, or footage of activities and ramblings. For whatever reason, he just finds it relaxing. Not to mention, it's his way of better preserving memories besides taking photos. Something else he does to unwind is watching movies and TV series, or playing video games. His favorite genres are horror and thriller. On the lighter side, he loves all stuff that's animated, comedy and adventure fiction. Also, collects merchandise related to his favored media. Considers it a luxury, so he's not gung-ho about it. While these are things he typically does alone. Camping and exploring abandoned places, are done together with his dad. Since they can't hang out together in broad daylight, they always go out during the night. Their activities start regularly, but sometimes end in some sort of chaos when they get overboard. With property ending up mysteriously ruined. Just a not so subtle clue into what exactly happens on their trips.

Habits?: Often smokes and drinks. The first one is easier for him to keep controlled, the other one is an addiction. Possibly inherited from his mother's side of the family. He's aware of that, yet doesn't seem to grasp how poorly it could affect him in the future. Both substances are used when stressed or annoyed, but gravitates towards the alcohol mostly. An insomniac, his sleep schedule has been, and still is, irregular. Tends to be active out of nowhere during later hours, and taking overnight shifts doesn't help him. All coupled together, it's easy to imagine his self-care is kinda non-existent. Not to say he's lacking in it, it's out of sheer tiredness and apathy. Irritability is a rather serious tendency due to trauma, and a main fueling reason for the reliance on bad tendencies. It only worsens when experiencing a chain of obstacles, no matter if minor or severe. There's no clear pattern as he can seem fine in the moment, yet takes but one nudge to tip him off the edge. Resulting in sudden outbursts, causing to shut himself off from others.

Relationships? (Simplified): Alfred's dad has remained an integral part of his life. Who in fact, happens to be a simulacrum from Hell, named Him. It's been the only figure he's ever looked up to and known as family. Same demon was originally supposed to replace his actual biological father. In a rather malicious, literal sense. That never happened, as the target left his family behind during the early years of Alfred's childhood before anything transpired. Then living with an abusive mother got him in a worse vulnerable state. So getting attached to something inhuman, but caring, shouldn't be surprising. Their steady bond continued while no one else had a clue on any of it. Entering his young teenage years, Alfred was unphased about his own father figure not being exactly human, once Him revealed so. Despite the few times he had to see or hear it lashing out onto other members of its own species, he never seemed disturbed by its more violent actions. Him's raw wrathful nature is no secret, for sure. He looks past as it being over-protective since so far, he's only seen it attack out of defense for the both of them. Many times he has wished to be as reliable, strength-wise. Since Him's the only father, best friend, and role-model he's ever had, he holds it up in high regard. Alfred would go to Hell and back for it. But the relationship is far from perfect, both struggle a lot with communication. Opening up emotionally is hard especially. For Him, it's worse. As they say: like father, like son. They stay silent about their relationship, for safety's sake and to avoid unwanted attention. Nowadays, they live together in a little run-down apartment. Finally secure, in a place they can call home.

Interacting with a simulacrum for nearly his whole childhood didn't make Alfred the most extroverted person. After frequently having trouble socializing, he gave up trying to befriend people his age. At some point, he simply preferred hanging about on his own. However, one person managed to start a friendship with him, Simon Belrose. A new student that had joined the same high-school, and class, as Alfred. They were both young teens, around the same age, when they first met. His outgoing and amicable personality had Alfred spooked, he reasonably assumed that he'd be left alone by him. Having not much thought about the new guy, becoming friends with him was even less on his mind. Up until they both had an interaction, in which Simon had shown genuine interest in his art. While the compliments were validating for Alfred, he was wary of the other anyway. Took a bit to get acquainted properly. Over the years, they've grown a lot closer as friends. But Alfred still remains secretive on a lot of stuff happening in his personal life. Usually for understandable reasons, yet Simon would appreciate it if they were more open with one another. Nonetheless, they get along pretty great. Both admire certain qualities the other has, that of which they don't themselves. They enjoy pissing each other off until someone breaks first. Random screaming matches over absolutely nothing happen frequently. And their silly scuffles always get hectic.

Moving back onto otherworldly beings. Due to Alfred's long bond with a simulacrum, a certain figure grew interested in finding out more about the two. One way or the other. After a major event, involved with a rather unpleasant (putting it lightly) "person". A series of unusual circumstances followed suit for Alfred. Which all led to meeting a theraangel, called Xanthan. When their first proper interaction happened, there was nerve-wracking tension. He wasn't sure what to make of them, or what the angel's true intentions were. Heavy convincing was needed to earn Alfred's trust. To his own surprise, a mutual respect developed as they bonded over certain grievances each had. Later on a different date, Xanthan becomes his guardian angel. Part of a deal made with his father, Him. Solely due to this guardianship, they find more things in common. Eventually gaining a deeper understanding of each other. Their shared connection with art helps them be more open and start an eventual friendship. Alfred slowly views them as a sort of mentor. Maybe even as another father figure. Seeing how he appreciated Xanthan's longer living experience, once he felt comfortable he'd seek out advice from Xan alone on the rare occasion. Very few people manage to break down all the high sturdy walls that angel puts up, Alfred managed to be one of those people. He proved to be pretty insistent in making that guy a close part of his life.

Speaking of enemies, there's no one in particular who really fits in with this definition for Alfred. Besides perhaps some bitter students from his high-school that he got into fights with, or his mother and sister he has distanced himself away from. Still none of them fit such a defining strong label as "enemy". As he just wants to forget about these people entirely. Yet, that doesn't mean he won't make adversaries in the future.

================================================

General rules for all of my FCs and OCs:

-While I'm fine with getting inspired by my work, please do not just steal the designs.

-I am uncomfortable with my characters being unknowingly shipped with other people's characters.

-Fanart is all well, great and welcomed! As long as it isn't sexual. I'm fine with gore but please, keep my characters away from your own sexual material.

#oh the sweet relief of just having to design characters however the hell I want #truly a liberating feeling to work with my own shit now heh #replica hysteria #alfred thorn #original characters #original project #my art #my reference sheets

[empyrangel]

Finally got around to doing the Arlecchino story quest and I gotta say. what the fuck. genuinely this might be the worst story genshin has ever put out

I was so hyped for it between all of the quests in Fontaine being so good up until now, and the trailer making it seem really dramatic and tense and like it was really going to go in depth about the dynamics in the house of the hearth, just for it to be as boring as it was frustrating.

Part of what made it such a bore to sit through is that we already knew exactly what was going to happen in it. They spoiled so much of it with that terrible amine short they put out prior to the quest. There was no mystery or suspense around Clervie’s identity or all the terrible things she was accusing the house and the Knave of because we already knew she was Arle’s childhood friend and she was talking about the old Knave and not the current one. Seriously, why did they release that short before the quest? And everything that wasn’t spoiled beforehand was painfully predictable. When they were talking about Arle executing people for just wanting a better life than being forced to work for a terrorist organization, I knew there was no way they were going to commit to that. That is way to absurd and cruel and they were absolutely going to chicken out from making Arle villainous so it had to be a red herring. I joked to myself that there was going to be some big reveal about how actually Arle hasn’t been killing these people, she’s just been putting them in witness protection and giving them new civilian identities to live under. And you’re fucking telling me that they actually pulled that shit? Like unironically that was the route they chose to go with? That’s laughable.

This applies to the anime short as well as the quest, but Crucabena was such a one-dimensional cardboard cutout of a character. She was evil to an absurd, almost comical degree, and that’s literally all she was. It’s so obvious she only exists to make Arle look like a better Knave by comparison (and to give her a pathetic sob story of a childhood). She’s not even her own character and she only exists as a foil for Arle, that’s ridiculous.

And that leads into my biggest problem with this quest, which is not only how they absolutely refuse to let Arle be portrayed as a villain or even a morally grey character, but how that leads to insane levels of favoritism that simultaneously harms her character, the characters of everyone else in the quest, and the story itself. I mean the narrative really bends to Arle’s favor in a borderline Mary-Sue-like manner.

She’s all-knowing, apparently. She just knows about both of the plots going down behind her back with no explanation as to why and no prior characterization of her as being omniscient. She knows because she’s ✨special✨ and she just does. Neuvillette has been established to have the power to resonate with and read people’s emotions, but oh so conveniently he can’t read Arle’s emotions. No explanation as to why except that she’s just ✨special✨ and ✨emotionally repressed✨ and he just can’t. She’s also omnipotent btw, because we can’t have the audience believing that Arle is anything other the most perfect most special girlie in Teyvat. The traveler has fought and won against gods, and dragons, and dragon gods, and three other harbingers? Well fuck all of that because they can’t beat this mortal human with ✨special✨ fire magic. Did I mention how strong and special she is? What even was that fight though? Again, the trailer hyped it up so much just for it to fall completely flat. The traveler didn’t manipulate the elements, why not? Were they even trying? Arle just showed them some vision and it completely disabled them. But the audience doesn’t have the context as the what the vision was or what it means (because god forbid we ever get any traveler lore) so it just feels like some lazy cop-out to make sure Arle won the fight no matter what, because she’s the most specialist girl and she’s the best at everything. Can’t have her looking weak.

And that’s another thing, Arle doesn’t have any weaknesses or character flaws. Technically she does, for example she is extremely emotionally repressed. But the narrative isn’t aware that’s a flaw and therefore doesn’t treat it like one, instead she’s treated like the pinnacle of existence. She’s all-knowing, undefeatable in combat, immune to all other characters abilities, a master manipulator, she always has the upper hand against everyone else, she’s intelligent, organized, ruthless, unable to be influenced by emotion, she’s everything except a well-rounded character because this game is so insistent on keeping from Arle from actually being shown as a villain that they somehow did a 180 and made everyone think of her as a hero and the greatest thing since sliced bread. And that leads me to the worst problem with this quest.

The massive Arle dick sucking contest that is the end of the story quest. What the hell was that? Instead of killing people for simply wanting a better life, it turns out Arle forcibly removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives, but apparently since she doesn’t kill people everyone starts worshiping the ground she walks on? Did everyone conveniently forget that Arle forces children to join the house, then manipulates them into not trying to leave by pretending that the penalty for that is death, and then when people inevitably begin to hate her for being a piece of shit, she removes people’s personalities and sense of self in a process that is explicitly stated to be extremely painful, and then drops them off in the court of Fontaine with no memories and no idea who they are to fend for themselves for the rest of their lives. And on top of that, she’s brainwashed the children of the house to believe that not wanting to forcibly work for a terrorist organization for the rest of your life is the same as betraying your family. And she made the siblings believe that they had to fight her and win to get her to spare the other members when she was going to do that already. Let’s not pretend all that’s not extremely fucked up.

But then you have the two npc’s who were wanting to leave apologizing to her because they were pissed she forced them into the house and made leaving illegal? Like wtf are you apologizing for, you guys are completely in the right? And Lynette and Freminet, who had been beaten by Arle so badly they said they couldn’t move for two days were like “Well that wasn’t even 1% of her power, she could’ve killed us if she wanted to but she went easy, we’re very grateful for that.” Grateful for fucking what? That she didn’t kill you? That’s absurd. And Lyney, who is currently being groomed by Arlecchino to soon take her place in the cycle of abuse, thanks Arle for sparing him and letting him be in the house. He calls her a hero. These people think they actually owe Arle lives for bringing them into the hearth wtf. When I said that the Arle favoritism was ruining other’s characters besides her own, this is what I meant. The siblings could have had some development in this quest. They could have finally woken up to Arle’s manipulation and we could have some nuance to their opinions on and loyalty to Arlecchino while still having them stay in the house because it’s the only home and family they know. But no, all of that got trashed in favor of showing the audience how great Arle is for not killing and experimenting on children and how everyone loves her, and is blindly obedient, and never questions her.

But I think the worst of it was Clervie. We get that whole backstory about how Clervie dedicated her life to seeking freedom and opposing Crucabena’s terrible way of leading until she couldn’t take it anymore and decided the only way to be free was to die. And then she witnesses everything that happened at the ruins. Arle threatening to kill people just for wanting to leave a place they never chose to be a part of, the people begging and crying for their lives, Arle demanding that rules must be upheld above people’s lives, the blatant way Arle was using “loyalty” to manipulate the people in the house, her making the siblings fight her with the lives of the other members on the line, her painfully removing people’s memories and personality and kicking them out. Clervie saw all that and still told Arle that she was a good Knave and Clervie approved of what she did. At this point the game might as well just come out and say “See! Everyone loves Arle and thinks she’s the greatest. Even her friend who opposed the old Knave for being cruel thinks she’s doing a great job. That means you have to like her too. Pay no attention to what an actual piece of human shit she is and just admit that she’s the specialist and the bestest character :)” because honestly that would have been more subtle than all this bullshit.

And what really gets me is that in the quest they explicitly made a point about how sad it was that the children except for Arle and Clervie were too brainwashed to realize how cruel the old Knave was, and then they went and pulled that ending. This goes beyond irony.

Only good part of the quest was that conversation between Lyney and Freminet at the beginning and Lynette calling everyone a dumbass. This whole quest should’ve just been them.

I had such high expectations because all of Fontaine so far, from the archon quest, to the world quests, to events, to story quests have been almost perfect. I’m so pissed that we’re leaving this incredible nation on such a sour note.

#traveler from another world ✨ #I hope my posts continue to piss all the Arle stans off #they can cry me a river #as much as I still hate her she wasn’t the problem with this quest #the problem was bad writing and also the decision to post her backstory before the quest #seriously why did they do that? #genshin impact #genshin #arlecchino #genshin arlecchino #the knave #genshin 4.6 #genshin spoilers #genshin 4.6 spoilers

[scekrex]

Hey first time requesting a prompt but maybe a Sinner!Adam x Incubus!Reader story? Maybe he hired reader to try to explore his sexuality and ends up liking his vibe so they hang out outside of sex and either of them end up catching feelings maybe?

Okay so I assume you wanted fluff, what you get though is hurt, frustration and an open ending lol I got carried away so if ya want fluff instead just lemme know and I can make that happen

I love it - you son of a bitch

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt - no comfort

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam had first paid for your services he had never expected for the night to end with cuddles. But there he was, laying in his own messy sheets that stank of sweat and cum and you were curled up against his chest, taking deep, long and steady breaths as you slept.

He had never been the guy to cuddle - that was not entirely true though. Back in Eden when it had been just him and Lilith there had also been cuddles. He had hugged the woman, had held her head close to his heart to let her listen to the steady beat of it pumping blood through his body for her and only her. But that had been long ago and after the blonde babe had cheated on him with God’s favorite and had left him because she had chosen hell over life with him, he had never let a person get close enough to hurt him like that again. No angel he had fucked in heaven had ever wanted to stay the night, neither had he ever spent the night at his hookups’ places.

But now that he was trapped in hell, surrounded by sinners he saw no point in following and obeying heaven’s rules anymore, not when Lucifer’s kingdom granted him free will. He had thought that a stranger would do well to experiment with his sexual interests. The first man had always found men attractive in the way he found women attractive, he had just never acted on it. Back in the early days in Eden, back when Lucifer had paid him visits because the king of hell had felt pity for the human - Adam had been so alone after all, back then he had told the former angel how majestic he had thought the blonde looked.

You mumbled something that the brunette was not able to understand as you inched closer to the taller male, seeking warmth. When his golden wings wrapped around you to keep you warm, Adam questioned not only his sexuality, he also questioned his emotions and their stability. Because why in God’s holy name was he allowing a sinner to touch his divine body so softly, almost lovingly? Why didn’t he kick you out when he had the chance to do so? For Christ’s sake, you had even offered to leave. Adam had basically invited you to stay the night. And deep down he knew that this would always remain the first but never the last meeting of you and him.

-

The brunette had invited you over quite a few times after your first hookup, he had always assured you that it was just because the sex was good. Yet ‘just sex’ meetings turned into you and him ordering take out, watching movies and cuddling again more often than they ended in sex. Adam knew he was getting attached and while you sent him signals that clearly showed you were honestly interested in him in the same way, the first man found himself quite scared of the new feelings that were slowly growing stronger.

Your routine that concluded Adam calling you to book your service, you coming over to his place late at night and you two doing whatever got crushed when you sent him a quick text in the middle of the day, asking the former angel if he was interested in grabbing a smoothie together and just go on a walk afterwards.

The brunette’s hands were shaking when he read those few words over and over again, not able to fully understand them, yet he responded ‘sure’ before he pocketed his phone and left his home to meet you outside.

“Sup, big bitch, didn’t think you’d actually fucking agree,” you greeted the first man with a confident smile on your lips as you leaned against the dirty wall of the building Adam lived in, the brunette only rolled his eyes at your comment as he tried to play it cool. “If someone’s anyone’s bitch here then you’re my fucking bitch,” he countered, you did not let that slide though. The former angel headed into the direction of where the store you wanted to visit was, expecting you to simply catch up to him - and you did. “Yeah?” the shiteating grin on your face was telling Adam a lot, yet he did not address it, “‘s that why you moan my fucking name loud enough for your cunt neighbors to complain about all the fucked out noises you make?” Adam side-eyed you, he decided to remain silent though, anything he wanted to say would blow his cover, would force him out of the closet and into the pit.

His silence made the vibe change though, he noticed you getting a little more serious as you spoke up again, “Y’know that you don’t fucking need to pretend that you just like the motherfucking sex, right? Like bitch, I know I’m good, probably the best you’ll find down here, right after Angel Dust, but that fucking amazing that it causes you to casually wanna hang out with me? Sweetface, even my dick isn’t hellish enough to fucking do so.” That caused the taller brunette to stop in his tracks and look down at you. His usually neutral eyes were filled with so many emotions, too many for you to read any of them. His voice matched the look in his eyes though, he sounded desperate, hurt even, yet his voice also held anger and frustation, “The fuck do you wanna hear? That I caught feelings for a cheap slut? That I could’ve had the most fucking heavenly dick ever before those cunts left me? That I fucking hate that the most amazing person I’ve ever met is fucking dirty demon filth? Do you wanna fucking hear that?”

His words left you speechless, you weren’t sure how to respond at all, Adam felt like a ticking bomb and every word you might speak would get him closer to explode. So you just looked in his eyes and said, “I want you to cut your bullshit act and tell me the goddamn truth, Adam.” You had never said his name before, not when he had introduced himself, not when you had watched movies with him, your head in his lap.

Adam didn’t want the truth though, he was scared of the truth, he was scared of his feelings. He hated that he had developed feelings for unholy filth like you, he hated that you treated him with respect even though he was the most respectless piece of shit in all of hell, he hated that he loved you on so many levels. “The truth? The truth, motherfucker, is that you’re a fucking bitch but I still somehow ended up fucking falling for your slutty, bitchy self.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[afyrian]

ch. 8 - february 13 masterlist

    "where is he? i'm his emergency contact," you stand at the front desk of the emergency room, hands clenched in fists. 

  the nurse looks back at the room, noticing all of the people rushing around. "with the ice on the road, there's a lot of people in the emergency room. we don't have that much room in their currently. unless you're family or looking for a minor-" she starts watching as you bounce on the balls of your feet.

  "yeah? well, i'm his wife. and i need to see him," saying it came so naturally at this point.

  maybe it's because you wished for it to be real. to be able to rush into a place and wholeheartedly say that that is your loving, adoring husband. and part of it is also because the two of you started using it constantly. to get out of situations with unwanted strangers or receive free desserts at restaurants. calling him your husband has basically become second nature.

  she bit her lip and looked back at the room once more. you can tell that she's nervous to let you in, but you can also see her moving her own wedding band. knowing that every person would want to know how their partner is doing, "please, wouldn't you want to see your partner?"

  the nurse looks back at you, letting out a breath through her nose, "yeah... yeah, follow me. stay close because it's really packed."

  the butterflies in your throat clear up as she opens the doors to the emergency room. she heads out first, weaving through the doctors and nurses helping people with broken arms and concussions. your heart beats quicker as you make your way through the heavy crowd. the fluorescent lights beating against your eyes and the heavy smell of antiseptic make your hands shake.

  for a second, you feel a little lightheaded. wondering if the worst of the worst happened. only when you finally see him does your anxiety slow and chills stop running down your back. he's laying in a bed, his foot is wrapped in something and there's scratches along his left arm. a nurse is currently holding a pencil in front of him, seeing if his eyes can correctly follow it. 

  you stand back for a second, the tears in your eyes still settling there. your hand instinctively reaches up to wipe them away. when the nurse takes a step away, he finally notices you. there's a scratch on his temple, but for the most part he seems okay. rintarō's gaze softens upon seeing you, his tongue attempting to soften his chapped lips. 

  "i'm sorry..." you swallow, taking a step towards him, "if i had just waited for you.. maybe this wouldn't have happened."

  rin shakes his head, pursing his lips. he reaches out his hand to grab yours, "no. no, don't do that. no, you can't do that. you can't blame yourself." 

  you grab ahold of his hand and let some more tears fall. the way he lays in that bed, so defenseless, helpless. all because for a moment, you couldn't handle seeing him flirt with another woman. you just had to grab an uber and head out of the party, leaving him wondering where you went and leaving soon thereafter.

  "but you wouldn't have-"

  "maybe it would've happened with both of us in the car. maybe i'd be the one driving to a hospital with raging anxiety. there's so many things that could've happened y/n. so please, just stand here, hold my hand, and stop blaming yourself," rin holds out his good hand, his palm open and fingers outstretched.

  taking in a deep breath, you grab ahold of his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. you lean forward, kissing his forehead, something you hadn't done in forever. neither of you were super physically affectionate in your friendship. but occasionally, when one of you really needs it, it’s necessary. 

  you stare down at him, taking your free hand to wipe away the tears from your cheeks. he goes to move his left arm, quickly remembering that it hurts like hell to move and he likely shouldn't. "you looked beautiful tonight, by the way. at the party," he turns to look at you, squeezing your hand in his.

  "and you looked dashing, honey," you smile to yourself, taking in a deep breath. 

  "i'm not joking," rintarō looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowing, "you look beautiful."

  the urge to say something is so strong. but before you can even open your mouth, a nurse comes rushing in to let him know that he'll be moved to a new room. there they'll fit him into a boot and do a last once over before discharging him. you quickly follow behind as they get him to a nearby room, switching the beds so that he wouldn't have to get up on his bad foot. 

  you want to comment on it, wondering if there's something here. if he'd ever want something more than what you've had. however, all you can do is stare at all of the machines connected to him. the iv connected to his arm, the contraption keeping his foot elevated. the machine checking his heart rate and oxygen. you quickly decide it wouldn't be a good time to confess the feelings that you've been horribly hiding.

  he looks over at you, noticing you looking around at everything. "i'm okay, i am. it's pretty much just a formality."

  "you're so stupid, 'formality'.." you shake your head, watching as he tries to give you a warm smile, but it just looks painful, "i'm a little hungry, did you want anything from the vending machine?"

  "you have no idea how happy i am to hear that. i will take anything right now," rin nods, taking his now free hand and running it through his hair, trying to gain some sense of normalcy.

  you nod, exiting the room to give yourself and him a breath of air. there's a few vending machines down the hall that carry an array of foods. from hot dishes to bags of chips, you know exactly what he would want you to grab for him. jelly fruit sticks, chuupets. there's a wide range of flavors, rin enjoying every one of them (besides grape). 

  so you grab a strawberry one, a mango one, and an orange one. they're all overpriced, but right now, you'd do anything for him. due to the night both of you’ve had, you're also starving so grabbing a couple bags of chips is exactly what you need. as you make your way back to his room, you can hear a nurse inside. she sounds like the one you initially spoke to when trying to find rintarō.

  she laughs at whatever he said a moment ago, "no, really, you have a great wife. she wouldn’t take no for an answer, so, you better hold onto her.”

  “oh, i plan on it… so, when do you think i’ll be able to be discharged?” 

  you smile to yourself, quickly entering the room as soon as the two of them start discussing his health. due to the crash, he has a bruised arm with cuts from the window’s glass and his left foot was broken but should be healed with a boot. as she discusses everything with the two of you, health plans, physical therapy, you stay by his side. clutching his hand with yours. 

a/n: so happy everyone is liking this fanfic so far!! i do plan to make it twelve chapters so.. four more

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #suna rintaro #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna x reader #the longest contract #haikyuu suna #haikyuu fanfic #fanfic

[mysteryanimator]

I love your animations, but I'm still struggling to view them without thinking about their last canon interaction. Can you tell me what you envision their makeup would be like?

(Lol I’m so sorry to all the ppl who work on Nocturne reading this 💀 and just generally everyone)

Thank you so much that means a lot! But now, you’ve unveiled my trap card and given me an excuse to write my thoughts on Mizrak and Olrox, so this will get pretty long. Also, this may end up being very subjective/personal taste in some parts so I hope everyone doesn’t mind (and hope you don't mind the funky grammar!) This is an open discussion too, I’d like to hear everyone’s thoughts! 

Now with that out of the way here we go!

(This is old unfinished storyboards for a previous iteration of their makeup scene I did back in jan, never finished them due to uni/another project, I'd like to someday tho because guh the themes.)

Now first of all, I’d like to think that a proper makeup/conversation wouldn’t happen for a bit and would be drawn out because they’re both still hurt, angry, sad, and confused at not only each other but themselves. They’re not the type to get into loud verbal arguments for this, definitely some verbal jabs at each other though. Mean petty comments, oh absolutely. I’d like to personally believe they’d still yearn for each other, perhaps even more so after Olrox indirectly confessed and Mizrak practically turned it down. 

Now, there are soooo many different ways that they’d even see each other again, many different ways it could come to that initial point where they’ve made up. Though I’ll go with one of my personal idea (which people keep egging me on to animate WHICH… I dunno I don’t have free time rn so I’m just blurting it out into written format while I can 😭 I want to though, maybe later in the year for fun if season 2 doesn’t beat me to it). 

Have to establish my vision, but I’d think that Richter, Maria, Annette, Alucard and Mizrak are hopping from abandoned town to abandoned town due to the inability to return to Macheoul for the time being. While Olrox has been on his own (doing what, I’m not even sure my personal headcanon for this.) I think Alucard and Mizrak have a conversation about Alucard’s past in a group setting and it strikes a chord with the monk- since after all, Alucard’s dad is THE Dracula, and his mother (bless her, I miss her) is human. You know how that whole backstory goes, and it parallels Olrox a lot. Also Mizrak and Annette will absolutely have a deep conversation too. Just solely from the comment that was made: 

“We’re all descended from gods, we just have to learn how to draw their power.” Nocturne s1 ep 2

Annette clearly having powers from Haitian gods, absolutely challenging how Mizrak was only certain of one God. Yes, Mizrak is extremely stubborn and it will take him a bit, but he’s different from the Abott in the sense that he will not let religion blind his path to good. He ‘uses his head’ as said before, not god, not the church- his head. Mizrak’s idea of the church and his faith is now a mess and it’s up to him on how he interprets it and rewrites it knowing what he knows now (this is important I swear when it comes to the makeup scene).

Now we’re at the actual scene at hand: Olrox and Mizrak making up.

Side note: oh god I’m practically writing this whole thing as if its going to be played out for an episode, but that’s how it works in my brain LOL but you asked so you shall receive. I am so sorry HAHA

There’s been a lot of build up from this point where they have been meeting up here and there by themselves, but you can clearly tell whenever they do they both hurt and yearn- which would lead to their proper makeup scene. I’m just inserting this for fun, but I’d imagine this would take place in an abandoned church in the town they’re camping in for the night. For a lot of symbolic reasons; devotion, sacrifice, forgiveness, gathering. This along with the simple fact, Mizrak’s relationship to the church has changed completely from here. I’d like to think that even when he’s trying to rekindle that connection with God, it leaves that icky overcoat on his skin. 

“Faith is a company in the hardest of times, when the world abandons you.” Nocturne ep 3

The church indeed had saved him from whatever terrible horrific thing happened to him in the past, however whatever saved him can still be horrible and terrible too. It is infallible.  It is cruel in an attempt to gather community and peace. So, yes- faith can be company when the world abandoned him, but his faith is no longer with the church. He’s taking it back and finding some place else to rest it. (Olrox, it’s Olrox, probably ooc but I’m making it Olrox). 

In this church, the conversation between them will initially start as a discussion about religion, faith and that whole sort of deal. It’ll open up about Mizrak exact struggles from his mouth and how he particularly feels about it, then we get more insight onto Olrox’s thoughts, his perception of the church and perhaps even a deep dive into Aztec history again. Maybe even talk about Olrox’s Quetzalcoatl form, though really this is self indulgent. It’s an aspect I’d absolutely love to be explored and I think it being discussed in revere in a Catholic Church,  with Mizrak actually being open to it due to his new perspective? Oh my god, sign me up. Regardless, it would hold similar energy to episode 6: Gulity Men to be Judged. There’s a weight to it. 

Then it gets heavier when the conversation pivots.  

Mizrak’s attachment in the church was due to him caring about people and, hypothetically, to save him from whatever detriment came for him in the past. The last canon interaction, their falling out they had in season 1 was because he cared about others. To a fault. Now, here he is, standing in front of someone he cares about. It’s going to open a conversation between what’s happening between them and finally properly discuss what happened from their last canon interaction in nocturne season 1. 

A lot of finger and hand brushing from Olrox, which at first I’d think gets no reaction as an attempt for restraint before Mizrak warms up to it and even reciprocates by doing the same thing. All of this is very gentle in my opinion. It’s slow, tender, and most importantly vulnerable. It has the physical contact reminiscent of their first fast rough and tug in the courtyard and piggybacks off the vulnerability they both have when they both stand next to the window in episode 6. They probably also just physically get closer to each other at the moment. Just gradually though. The distance gets closer and closer until their foreheads are practically touching without them realizing it. They’re comfortable though, they don’t want to leave. 

They absolutely get to a point where they both admit to saying “I love you” without straight up saying “I love you” because that’s just a very them thing. Or maybe they do straight up state because Olrox does admit he was in love (with his partner) and doesn’t shy from that fact. It’s a nice conversion of the trope and great to hear from a mlm couple to say I love you… but man do I do love when characters get all poetic-y when their profess their devotion to each other by literally talking in prose, so maybe with good writing both can be done and still be quite powerful but still be gentle. 

In my interpretation YEAH I’LL MAKE THEM KISS AFTER THIS, this is my vision after all. Also, yeah they’re gonna fuck. In the church? Perhaps. Is it a tad OOC, maybe. HOWEVER, consider imagery and symbolism. I just think the image of it would be great, even if it was censored to hell and back, it can be so artistically done. Just imagine the implication alone with me for a second. I think the whole concept of doing it in a church is an interesting build upon the quotes from the show;

“God is not here. This church is an empty box.” From the first Castlevania series.

“House of God? This place is just a heap of bricks and stone.” From Nocturne said by Maria. 

The church is a husk, especially having it abandoned- it’s rather what you do with that box that makes all the difference. The people inside are the driving force, so I think it’s both poetic and funny to have Mizrak and Olrox fucking in an abandoned church. Surface level: fuck you god I’m fucking my hot vampire boyfriend in your house. Deeper level: I could write a whole thing on this but I’ll refrain. You can get the gist of breaking free of restraint, and devotion and letting himself be human, rather than a soldier (which he already slowly does). 

Though also this sex scene isn’t necessary, I just like exploring explicit content in artistic ways, especially if I can throw in religious symbols and heighten that hunger/devotion to a person- but the “I love you” in the church is pretty powerful already.  

Then after all of this they take it at their own pace. However, they only live life once and continue together like that- they both know this concept very well because of the very nature of who they are, so they spend it in each other’s company. 

Now you also get the squad’s reactions, well namely because I do not think this would be an easily hidden thing. Like absolutely could get away with it in season 1, but everyone will know something is up for sure in my iteration. The 'hypothetical' Mystery Animator season 2 iteration. As subtle as their longing stares and quiet hand touches may be reserved for just them- those little interactions are loud.

Richter would absolutely be in shambles over Olrox, the killer of his mother, and Mizrak being a thing. Both in a “this is the most horrible thing that’s happened in my life” and also a he’s going to be an absolute shithead to Mizrak and make fun of him, lightheartedly of course. Alucard would absolutely have an interesting perspective because again, his parents. Maria already has disdain for the church plus the “vampires are evil… and evil has to be fought.” However, in the presence of Alucard, I think a lot will change because he’s half-vampire. Annette, I’m unsure of what her reaction would be, because I’m very sure she’d be receptive to Alucard being a vampire and then would appreciate Olrox’s mindset and values. However, gonna keep hammering, Olrox killed Julia Belmont which I feel will be comedically hammered in if Olrox decides to hang around the squad occasionally. 

And with that, we’re done! (I think)

Thank you for reading 🫶 this probably will not happen in cv s2 but it’s fun blurting out my hc. I’m really excited to see what they do, and even perhaps even go in the opposite direction due to episode limitations… maybe a season 3 👀 who knows.

#castlevania nocturne #olrox/mizrak #mizrox #castlevania olrox #mizrak #olrox #castlevania #vampire #holy shit this is long #castlevania fanart #im sooooo normal you guys #tf you mean this is 2k words #is this techincally a thesis? a character essay? #literally posting and closing my eyes #grammar might be shit but guys I have a vision #headcannon #dont percieve me

[childofthewargod]

Alright people

Angst time

Ahem

Starting off.....

PJO!Collette!

(Little reminder before hand. Well no actually a note- I had to like age up or age down a few characters to make like theirs and Coco's backstory a little more... Logical? Idk- but just so you know to avoid confusion!)

(This is like their backstory in a summary but also set during a different timeline, it's a little more different when it's like- "canon" as in during the same times as in the books and series)

(TW!!: There are mentions of beating characters up, mentions of character nearly dying, mentions of character's death, mommy and daddy issues, mentions of blood and scars, character is too blind up by anger and let's it get to them too easily, cussing, angst- like a lot of angst.)

PJO!Collette who was made angry and not born angry because of the expectations their mother had, while quite literally being just 8-9

PJO!Collette who could never understand why their mother sprayed them with loads of perfume in order for their smell to not track monsters

PJO!Collette who got sick of their mother's bullshit they were on the edge of running away, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who in the end got told the truth and were simply dropped off at the camp, though not without a monster leaving a nasty scar on their back, while being 8-9

PJO!Collette who saw Grover when waking up in the infirmary, debating whether or not he's not worthy of their aggression and sparing him the insults

PJO!Collette who felt agitated to be in cabin 11 and didn't like Luke Castellan for whatever reason that may be

PJO!Collette who got claimed by Ares after getting into a fight with one of his children for shoving their shoulder

PJO!Collette who got along better with their cabin and letting Clarisse get to their head by letting her influence them

PJO!Collette who nearly fucking died during their first quest all because the Spear of Mars was taken by those who were seeking to plunge the world into chaos, to end up with an early birthday "gift" from Ares (which was an electric guitar that could convert to an two headed axe or sword)

PJO!Collette who, at the time, was ten-fucking-years old, during said quest, filled with rage that no child should have, though that anger died down when hearing about a new kid's arrival and that kid ending up being Coco and their beloved best friend

PJO!Collette who was the only child of Ares that had the guts to not back off when Luke said so, despite that Ares kids don't mess with him at all

PJO!Collette who hadn't even met Percy yet and let Clarisse whisper to them from how much of a fraud he is, thus as to why they strongly dislike him and Luke

PJO!Collette who hated Percy more after hearing what he did to Clarisse her spear, just to end up letting their anger get the best of them and nearly beating him to a pulp had it not been for Coco and Cole interfering and holding them back ("There's nothing special about you! You just got lucky because you don't know anything about being a demigod, you don't know the hell we all went through and you walk in acting like you know what you're doing!")

PJO!Collette who, despite that their cabin was known to be quite hotheaded, ended up being the only one who had to take anger management classes because apparently their anger was a level too high

PJO!Collette who couldn't be nice to neither Percy or Annabeth for the life of them, but would be less aggressive when it comes to Grover, way more with Coco

PJO!Collette who was the last one to stay behind to finish listening to the Oracle whom said that something horrible was bound to happen if they'd go with Coco, Cole and Chomei on quest, knowing that three was the holy number yet couldn't let Coco out of sight, just to see the consequences of their actions (that being Chomei dying in their place and Cole dying later on despite that it was actually three people during that moment)

PJO!Collette who thought they'd always be the one to carry Coco after every quest, never having thought for a second they'd get carried

PJO!Collette who later on developed feelings for their best friend, though learned that someone else was after her too and was nearly winning her heart (and Luke was certainly following his father's footsteps if he was this good at stealing Coco's heart)

PJO!Collette who did what they could to not let their father down, though, with their mother they stopped trying but she was more understanding than said father.

PJO!Collette who through the years knew it'd be impossible to pleas their father, as neither they nor Clarisse could be the sons he's wanted, learning that he's wanted a soldier and not a child

PJO!Collette who found themselves crying in their mother's arms, knowing she wouldn't belittle them for spilling out the inner turmoil that's been threatening to leak for years

PJO!Collette who ended up being a mama's girl kid instead of a papa's girl kid

PJO!Collette who, somehow, saw the more fatherly side of Mr. D, still grumpy but yet fatherly, too.

PJO!Collette who thought that the reason Ares gave them their crimson sunglasses was to show the supposed faith he never had for them, who went their way to get a leather jacket like his only to later on discover that the sunglasses were meant to be thrown away and instead given to them because like the sunglasses, they should've been thrown away as well

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why, why they ended up developing the same feelings they've felt (and still do) for Coco as for Percy, when clearly, they're unlovable

PJO!Collette who realized that the hatred they felt for Percy and Luke wasn't hatred but Envy, realizing they envied their skills and achievements, realizing that they hurt the both of them not out of spite but because they were jealous and were influenced by Clarisse

PJO!Collette who couldn't understand why they could tolerate Chris Rodriguez more than his brother, why they could tolerate Grover Underwood more than his best friend, why they were practically playing favourites just like their father

PJO!Collette who knew that they couldn't open their heart and reveal what they've been feeling for both the son of Poseidon and the daughter of Demeter, knowing that they would be stuck being FWB with said daughter of Demeter. And only they knew that they could label it as such because she didn't know a thing.

PJO!Collette who didn't understand why Percy was still being nice to them, why they continued being a dick to him because it's the role they've forced themselves to play through the years

PJO!Collette who knew time was ticking and therefore chosen to do something nice before they'd eventually leave

PJO!Collette who sacrificed themselves as a last way to show that they've given up the battle and couldn't be strong anymore

PJO!Collette who only managed to confess to Coco with a blade against their throat before it got cut, falling deeper in Tartarus if that's even possible, knowing that Grover would be the only one to genuinely witness their belated redemption and change of heart, that the others couldn't witness it like he did

PJO!Collette who couldn't feel their face getting cradled by Coco, couldn't feel her tears on her face and couldn't feel how they'd be the one getting carried by her now

PJO!Collette who didn't care whether they'd go to the fields of punishments or to Asphodel, knowing that wherever they'd land they'll be fine with it

PJO!Collette who ended up serving Hades and Persephone as their Royal Knight instead, not knowing that for once Ares said something genuinely nice and put in a good word for them to put them in said position, to spare them for they have went through enough

PJO!Collette who, till this day, still loves Coco, still loves Percy.

PJO!Collette who in the end, after everything that's happened, despite everything.

They still loved their father.

(I'm tagging @intriq @fallingwaynes @wanderingoracle @dottedlove @iwillsarcasmthemonstersaway @chaotic-child-of-apollo @scarletbeast @oliviachildofaries @thatonebitheaterkid @rayof-damnsunshine @thisisireneshesoutofcontext @dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine @amazing-war-god-ares @will-solace-aaaaa @saph-nic @13callisto @yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades @evelynnisfrpinkiepie)

(That's about it)

#oc info by yours truly: Coty! ❤️ #Man- this is kind of depressing

[racketballz]

this isn't me in support of the boys being stronger, just genuinely made me think, but.. in both episodes they appeared, the girls PHYSICALLY were no match for the boys? obviously with HIM it's a little less fair cuz he revamped/upgraded them, but even with mojo, the only way the girls could beat the boys is by hurting their fragile masculinity, and not by physically beating them up. when theyre older i headcanon that the girls are stronger just cuz.. you know they're the girls, and the boys probably didn't get as much training and experience and stuff, but what are your thoughts about it in the og tv show?

See this is my issue I think you guys are trying to rationalize this strength thing like an anime bro you’re trying to make me figure out who’s stronger sailor moon or goku or something when they do not interact and they’re in different genres right. I genuinely think it’s even simpler than that

But in the show they never WIN so HOW are they considered stronger. I think that the whole point of the first appearance was to be like what’s worse than 3 little girls? 3 little boys!!! woah theyre like equal footing because theyre based on the same chemical compounds woahhh theyre head to head!! Anticipation noises!! Only for them to lose BECAUSE they’re boys

Boys are back in town same thing woah they’re beating the shit out of the girls woah!! They’re fighting super dirty and rambunctious so unpredictable! And then they STILL LOSE because they’re stupid

Maybe I’m just like thinking of this like sports teamwork and determination and BRAINS IS ALSO A STRENGTH and TRUST is also a strength in the show as well! even at their “strongest” the boys arent able to win because they rather clown eachother than finish the job! What is physical strength and muscle without a brain! Absolutely nothing! Just because the guys fight like they’re unhinged maniacs doesn’t mean they’re stronger when they’re idiots