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I originally wrote this about three years ago, but I just came upon it! I decided to clean it up a rework it a bit. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed revisiting this idea!
“Honestly, Mey-Rin, no one saw it.” You wrapped a comforting arm around the crying maid.
“But you saw the way he was pawing at me! Who will marry me now?” Mey-Rin sobbed.
Sebastian rolled his eyes from the other side of the kitchen.
“If he is the right man, he will see that it was not your fault.” Bella chimed, wiping a piece of silverware.
Before Mey-Rin could respond, a bell rang.
“That’s Herr Von Siemen’s room, it is!” Mey-Rin said, wringing her hands anxiously. “I… I don’t want to go alone…”
“I will come with you.” Sebastian said, pulling on his tailcoat.
Mey-Rin’s demeanor instantly changed. “Oh Sebastian, are you worried about me? That’s very kind of you.” She pressed her hands to her red cheeks.
“No, actually I am worried about our guest— he imbibed a bit more wine than is usually advisable for a person.”
“Prolly’ has a splittin’ headache and wants a glass of water.” Bard sighed as he rinsed a plate.
As the pair exited the kitchen, You set down the silverware you were polishing. “I have to take care of something. I’ll return shortly.”
Exiting the kitchen, you made your way to Sebastian’s bedroom. Though you were technically supposed to share the maid’s quarters with Mey-Rin, you found Sebastian’s room more comfortable for sleeping.
If he let you sleep, that is.
After making sure the door was locked, you opened your To-Die ledger. Two of the party guests were now listed to die within the next fourty-eight hours.
Sebastian was right about this night being interesting.
As you put your ledger away, a scream echoed through the manor
“And the chaos begins…” You mumbled to yourself, laying on the bed.
Sure enough, an all too familiar knock sounded on the door.
“This is your room, Sebastian, you don’t have to knock. Come in.” You adjusted your spectacles as the demon entered the room.
“The master has given me orders, and you are not going to like them.” He said, closing the door behind him.
“Right, then. Tell me.” You crossed your arms.
“The master wishes me to fake my death.”
“… pardon?”
“Herr Von Siemens was murdered in his room earlier. The master believes there is a murderer afoot, and in order to catch him he wants me to sacrifice myself. Apparently it will also make an entertaining spectacle for the guests.”
“He was murdered, you say? Hmm. Odd.” Herr Von Siemens was one of the names listed in the ledger, but there were hours before his scheduled death.
“We moved him to the basement to prevent decay before the Yard could arrive. The storm will undoubtedly delay them.” Sebastian said.
“How long ago was he murdered?”
“A quarter of an hour ago, judging by the time he rung the service bell.”
“He wasn’t scheduled to die for another few hours.” You said.
“Intriguing.” Sebastian said, tapping his chin. “This is certainly shaping up to be an interesting night.”
“I just hate that you will have to fake your own death… the servants will be scrambling for sure. And I have no idea how I’ll be expected to react…”
“What if I was not the only one to die?” Sebastian said suddenly.
“What? You think the murderer would target more people?”
“He would if there was another person in the room.”
You caught on to what he was insinuating. “But the guests would surely see and put together that we’re at least romantically involved…”
He sat next to you, taking your hand. “Exactly. He gave me his orders, but he never gave me any limitations to how I was to execute them.”
“We would start a myriad of gossip… Ciel would be shamed…”
Sebastian grinned devilishly.
You couldn’t help but smile. “But what about my reapings?”
“Surely you can take care of them. There won’t be eyes on you after you become one of the dearly departed.”
“Alright… I will do it. I cannot wait to see the brat’s face when he finds us.”
“I will ensure it is quite embarrassing for him, my dear.” Sebastian said, letting go of your hand and crossing the room. “I must take my leave now… and your presence is requested as well. You will need to provide an alibi for where you were at the time of the murder.”
“I was here, in our quarters. Ask Baldroy. If I were human, there is no way I could have made it up to the guest quarters and back here in that amount of time.”
Sebastian turned to look back at you. “And did you?”
You laughed. “No. I’m on thin ice with head office as it is.”
He smirked. “I assumed as much. Come now. We’ll discuss the plan on the way.”
After you confirmed your alibis, You were pleased to see that Ciel was under suspicion for the murder. Since he went to bed early and alone, no one could vouch for him.
You had to return to the maids’ quarters, as one of the guests had decided to play detective and assign everyone a partner to watch over. The other maid took ages to fall asleep, but once she did, you were able to silently slip out of the room to find Sebastian.
You found him just outside your room, seemingly waiting for you. He was silent as he closed the door to the room. He offered you his arm and continued down the hall, still in silence. Once they were in a nearby drawing room, he spoke. “My orders are to keep the fires lit.”
“Are th—“ before you could finish, Sebastian slammed you against the wall, kissing you passionately.
“Now we,” he murmured against your lips, “get to have a bit of fun.”
You could not speak. You loved it when he was this forward. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he began to nibble at your neck.
“You are going to leave a mark.” You breathed, barely suppressing a hum.
“That is precisely my intention, my love.” He murmured. “They will all know that you are mine alone, even in death.”
You could not speak, losing your in the sensation of his hands on your body, his mouth on your skin.
His hands drifted south, playing with the laces of your uniform.
“N… no… no.” She came back to your senses. “I do not want to be undressed in front of everyone.” You moved his hands back to your waist.
“I would never endanger your dignity, my dear. I am simply loosening the laces. You can undo my tie and my waistcoat, if you would like. It will add to the illusion that we really are in love. Or, at the very least, that we did lust for each other.”
“What a notion that would be.” You kissed him again, rumpling his tie in the process.
He picked you up, placing a hand on your rear to keep you steady.
“You certainly are handy today, aren’t you.” You mumbled, smiling.
“I feel like I have to reassert my claim. When Herr Von Siemens touched you like he did…” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “I imagined a hundred ways I could have smote him where he stood. I am an all powerful being, yet I could not defend my own when her honor was damaged.”
“Your meal wouldn’t have liked it if you did. His queen would have been upset.” You said, rolling your eyes.
“I suppose you’re right… but you understand my instincts…”
“I do, my unfathomable evil. You know my boundaries. You are welcome to go as far as they allow you to, if that will make you feel better.” You kissed his neck, causing him to shudder.
“A demon does not usually have his chosen one violated in that way.”
“Which is why I left. I’ve had enough old men paw at me in my afterlife. Well, I suppose I still have an old man pawing at me.” You looked up to meet his eyes.
“Old man? Darling, I’m hurt.”
“I suppose experienced is the better term.”
“I have experienced a great deal of things… would you like me to show you?” His eyes flashed red.
You smirked. “You know I would.”
After a half hour, You were both sufficiently disheveled.
“I do hate to be so unkempt in front of guests, but I can bear it for the master’s embarrassment.” Sebastian mumbled against your lips. He went to kiss you again, but stopped. His grip grew tighter on your waist. “He is coming. Brace yourself, love. This is going to hurt.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, kissing you once again.
You felt the poker hit your stomach as the killer thrust it through Sebastian’s abdomen. He went down fast— Sebastian was surprisingly good at playing dead. You plastered a horrified look on your face as you, too, were stabbed. Sebastian was right; it did hurt quite a bit. You crumpled to the floor, immediately going limp. Sebastian made a show of struggling to your side and partially wrapping his arms around you before he, too, went limp. The killer whacked both of their heads with a stray piece of firewood before leaving.
“Charles Grey…” Sebastian wheezed as he sat up. “I was certainly not expecting him.”
“I had a hunch.” You said, trying to sit up. “Could you help me? I can’t get up with this thing lodged in me.”
“Certainly. I will try to make it painless for you.”
“Just rip it out.”
He quickly removed the poker from your chest. “I must say, it actually hurt more than I anticipated.”
“Are you alright, my love?” you asked, noticing the strain in his voice.
“Being stabbed is quite painful, even for someone like me. I cannot imagine how it feels for you…”
“I’ll be fine; I’ve felt worse.”
Sebastian sighed. “You remember your orders?”
You nodded. “I will meet you back here at two fifteen.”
He nodded, opening the door for you.
You fetched the snowy owl from the aviary and made your way to the maid’s dormitory. She knocked on the door, and Mey-Rin answered, thankfully not wearing her glasses and groggy enough not to wonder why you had been out of bed.
“Mey-Rin. I have orders from Sebastian— you are to release this bird first thing in the morning. It has a letter for Scotland Yard, it is the only thing that will make it through this storm. Remember, do this first thing.” You said, passing her the bird
Mey-Rin nodded. “I will, I will…”
You left and returned to the drawing room, where Sebastian was already waiting.
“Would you like me to help you with that, dear?” Sebastian asked as you picked up the poker.
“Yes, please. Don’t worry about hurting me.”
“Alright. One, two, three—“ on the count of three, he plunged the poker through your chest. You gasped, flopping on the ground in the same position she had been in earlier. “Even for someone like me—“ You wheezed, quoting his words from earlier. “being stabbed is still quite painful.”
“I’m sorry, my love. I hate to hurt you.” Sebastian assumed his position. “Now, we wait.”
You couldn’t help but revel in the fact that they were spending the night together for the first time in ages. Sure, they were technically dead, but you enjoyed being with him nonetheless. She loved the sensation of his arms around you. You had not truly been alone with him in weeks— he had been away at the circus for so long.
“This is quite nice. To hold you.” He whispered in your ear.
And it was.
You now understood why he had wanted you to do this with him. Not just to embarrass the master, but to finally spend some quality time with you, at least for one night.
Morning came all too soon.
Poor Finny was the one that discovered their bodies. He had come to stoke the fire, just as Sebastian had asked him to. Before long, almost everyone in the manor had entered the small drawing room. Baldroy was comforting Mey-Rin and Finny. The guests were terrified, shifting about and muttering about the murderer. There were two people missing: Arthur and Ciel.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. You could not see them from the awkward angle your head was positioned, but she heard Ciel when he started scolding Sebastian. You felt a chill as Ciel pulled Sebastian’s body off of you. Though youdisliked Ciel, she had to admit: the brat was a good actor.
Tanaka pulled Ciel off of Sebastian’s body.
“It appears the butler and that maid were engaged in a tryst before they died… those marks on her neck couldn’t be from the killer. The butler did have secrets, oh my…” Lau commented.
“Yes, they… they married in secret about a year ago… Ciel allowed them to stay married as long as they kept it quiet.” Finny said, wiping his eyes.
You had to keep your expression blank. Oh, Ciel was going to be livid— their secret was out. This would be the talk of the high society gossips for months.
Their bodies were soon moved to the basement with the others. After the rest of the guests had left, Sebastian quickly sat up. “I’ve been given orders. You are to stay here unless I have need of you.” He said, standing from the ground.
“My first reaping still isn’t for another few hours.” You said, pulling your timepiece from your pocket. “I will be here.”
The basement was mind-numbingly boring. You considered breaking into the stash of good wine that the master kept, but you doubted Sebastian would approve. Speaking of the demon, you barely saw him. Apparently, he had taken the facade of a vicar in order to help solve the supposed murder mystery. How ironic, considering his true nature. Your reapings were carried out without incident, and the mystery was solved just as the storm let up.
The day of the funeral followed shortly after. You had been dressed in a simple green gown. Sebastian was buried in his uniform, of course. He hardly owned any other clothes.
This funeral was more sentimental than your first one had been. The priest read a poem about the bonds of marriage that were only strong enough to be broken by death before you were lowered into your graves. As the priest prayed, you couldn’t help but wonder what Sebastian was thinking from his own coffin.
It was stuffy underneath the earth. It did smell nice, since they had buried you resting atop some lilies, but you could only stand this for so long.
Soon, you heard rhythmic tapping from the side of the coffin. That was the signal. You tugged on the string that had been placed in your hand.
As soon as you were unearthed, you and Sebastian were both crushed by the crying servants.
Once he was finally freed, Sebastian came to your side.
“I suppose it is all out in the open, isn’t it?” You sighed.
“It is indeed, my love. Which means I am finally allowed to do this.” He took your hand, placing a kiss to your knuckles.
You couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to finally be allowed to be in public with him.
“Thank you for helping me.” He drew a small box from his pocket. “While my master was in the city seeing about funeral preparations, I managed to sneak away and purchase these for us.” He opened the box to reveal two matching silver rings. “They’re all I can afford on my meager salary, but I assure you, when I am released I can get you something much more fitting.”
“No… these are perfect.”
He gently slipped the smaller ring onto your left hand.
She removed his glove and situated the ring on his left hand.
“These rings were a bit simple for my taste, but… I must admit, I do like seeing it on you.” Sebastian said as he put his glove back on.
“The servants need us, Sebastian. We should join them.”
“Yes, our work is never finished, is it.” He sighed and took your hand. “Let’s go, my love.”
I've been writing a novel for a little over three years, and while I love my story, I'm terrified of writing it. More specifically, I'm terrified of it not being perfect. Have you ever dealt with this? If so, how do you cope?
Hi there,
I have absolutely dealt with this, and so have most of the other authors I know. You must be in the right place, because we're all a bunch of dreadful perfectionists. Personally, I think of it this way...
As a reader, which would I prefer: a flawless book that is perfect in every way (supposing that such a book existed, which it doesn't), or a book that is fun, that speaks to me so deeply that I don't notice its flaws or if I do, I either find them negligible or part of the charm? I would always, always choose the latter. Which means I should be trying to write a fun book, not a perfect one.
Hello, lovely people of Tumblr. Y'all might know me as one who writes fanfic, and while I love that art form, I have been writing an original novel for a little over 3 years now. My writing coach has challenged me to share a bit of this writing with the world, and truthfully, the thought terrified me. But, I'm writing this out anyway. So, here is an excerpt from Beginnings, which is a side story concerning two of my very favorite characters, Maude and Archibald. I hope you enjoy this little piece of my heart.
This is not how Archibald intended his first day to go.
Being hired on as a valet for the distinguished Phillips household was not only a massive jump in station— it was a chance for Archibald to start fresh. To finally, finally, forge his own path.
Being the son of a baker left him exactly one option: inherit what had been his father’s and spend the rest of his life regretting his birth.
This job was a chance at life— to help people, to elevate his own station, to gain a respectable reputation.
Archibald felt those dreams slip away as he retreated from the head butler, who had just spent the better part of half an hour yelling at him.
Yes, he was well aware there would be a learning curve, but there was so much to learn.
Unsure of where else to go, he ducked into the pantry, sitting on a crate and resting his face in his hands.
“… can I help you?”
Archibald quickly stood. “I’m sorry— I did not mean to— excuse me—“ he stammered, turning to leave.
“No, it’s alright. Sit.” The woman said, gesturing to the crate. “Branson can be… a bit harsh.”
“… you heard that.” He sighed, sitting down.
“I did.”
“Superb.”
“He yells at all of us. I assure you it will be a regular occurrence. You will grow used to it quickly.”
He smiled slightly, before he looked over at the woman. “Where are my manners? My name is Archibald—“
“Yes, the new Valet. I know who you are. It is rare that Lord Phillips hires on a new servant, everyone’s been talking about you. I’m Maude, chef’s assistant.” She stuck out her hand.
He shook her hand, noting her firm grip. “I’ve made a terrible first impression.”
She smirked. “Nonsense. The fact that it took Branson a full three hours to yell at you shows your competency.”
“… you think so?”
She nodded. “Now. Let’s introduce you to the others before Branson comes back.”
He stood, fixing his hair. “Thank you, Maude.”
“Anytime, Archie.”
The nickname made him smile.
Archie.
No one had ever called him that before.
~
“I do appreciate your accompanying me to the market, Archie.”
“Of course. After all, I owe you for speaking to Branson for me.” He shifted her baskets of produce on his arm.
“Does this count for the time yesterday, or for the time last week?” She asked, picking up a tomato.
He smiled sheepishly. “You have been a great help to me.”
Maude selected a bushel of carrots from the cart. “How much for these?”
“Twenty, ma’am.” The vendor said.
“Twenty? For fourteen carrots? You’ve got to be daft, charging this much. What, is your garden sown with diamonds? Do you fertilize with gold dust?”
“Ma’am, these are nearly out of season. Twenty is the best I can do.”
“Ten.” She countered.
“Nineteen”
“Eleven.”
“Seventeen.”
“Thirteen.”
“Fifteen.” The man sighed. “I won’t go any lower.”
“Very well. But only because my employer is paying.” She sighed, shoving the bushel into one of the baskets and practically throwing the coin at the man.
Archibald was silent for a moment, in awe of the woman before him.
“I brought you to barter for me, and yet here I am, bartering while you stand there and look pretty.” She sighed.
“I am sorry–” He started, growing pale. “I did not mean– that is to say, I did not intend at all to–”
“I was joking, Archie. I’m just glad someone else is carrying the baskets.”
“... you nearly sounded like Branson.” He said.
She snorted. “Don’t offend me like that.”
“I mean no offense, but… I do believe you and Branson must use the same dictionary. I daresay he used many of the same words when reprimanding me for ruining the integrity of a cravat yesterday.”
“To be fair, Lord Phillips does own many silk cravats. How were you supposed to know that the one you selected is for winter, not summer?” She asked, smirking up at him.
“I will learn… eventually.”
“You will. You’re smart, Archie.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her compliment.
~
“PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT! DON’T JUST STAND THERE, YOU INCOMPETENT WHELP!”
Archibald ran into the kitchen, balking when he saw the grease fire.
Maude was hurriedly trying to douse the flames with a wet dishcloth while the chef screamed at another kitchen maid, who was clearly in shock.
Archibald hurriedly grabbed another stack of towels, plunging them in the water before handing them to Maude.
As soon as the fire was out, Maude turned to the head chef. “Do you honestly think that is a way to handle a situation like this? Yelling solves nothing, Frank.”
The chef puffed out his chest. “You’re trying to tell me how to treat my maids, eh? That’s how this is going to be, girly?”
Archibald quickly stepped to her side. “I believe what Maude is trying to say is that in situations such as these, bickering solves nothing. It is important to handle the situation first, then educate others on what went wrong. Now, Branson wishes to discuss dinner with you. We all know how Branson feels about tardiness, so I suggest you go.”
Without another word, the chef turned on his heel, still muttering as he left the room.
“Och, there we are. It is alright now. No harm done.” Maude said as the kitchen maid collapsed in her arms, sobbing. As she enveloped the girl in an embrace, she smiled at Archibald in thanks.
Archibald took that as his cue to leave Maude to her domain, a smile plastered onto his face.
She had smiled at him.
~
It was quite difficult to find out more information about her without directly asking her.
But, the staff did talk.
Her favorite color is purple.
She doesn’t like herbal tea, but seems to have a fondness for hot chocolate.
She despises lentils.
Her favorite flower is wisteria.
On her days off, she enjoys sleeping in, then strolling the market.
So, Archibald waited for her in the kitchen at half past one with a small bouquet of wisteria in a vase and all the money he had in his pocket.
“What’s all this?” She asked, walking in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“I was wondering,” He said, feeling his hands clam up, “If you were up for strolling in the markets. With me.”
She grinned. “That sounds lovely.”
After many hours of perusing the food markets (Even though his father was a baker, Archibald had never seen so many meats and cheeses and vegetables and spices in his life), they stopped at a small pub for dinner.
Maude appeared deep in thought as she tasted the stew.
“Is it… not good?” Archibald asked.
“Corriander. And cumin. Salt and pepper, of course. Perhaps a bit of starannise. The chef must be from the south.” She mumbled, tasting the stew again.
She identified all of that from one bite?
Maude seemed to come back to herself, clearing her throat. “I’m… I’m sorry. I did not mean to ignore you.”
“No, no, it is quite alright.” He said. “I find it impressive that you could identify all of those spices from one bite.”
“There are one or two I cannot place…” She sighed. “But this is quite good.”
“I am glad.” He took a bite to find he agreed with her.
She took a notebook from her pocket, jotting down some notes. “I would like to try this recipe on the other staff… see how they like it. I could add some lemon zest to counteract a bit of the spice and add some acidity… or some basil…” she tapped her pencil to her temple.
“I look forward to trying it again.” He said.
~
Archibald had a crush.
He couldn’t deny it any longer.
He found himself going to the kitchen at every opportunity for the chance to talk with her.
He elected to prepare Lord Phillips’ tea almost daily, giving him another excuse to enter her domain.
He even found himself volunteering to help clean after dinner for the chance to stay with her for even a few extra minutes.
Of course, he could never act on these feelings.
Inter-staff relationships were expressly forbidden, not to mention taboo.
Divine only knew what Branson would do if he got even an inkling of an idea about it.
Still.
This woman was unlike any Archibald had ever met.
And he was smitten.
As he prepared Lord Phillips’ tea platter, he tried not to watch her fix the oven.
“It’s the exhaust valve again.” She sighed, sitting up and wiping her soot-covered forehead.
(Archibald never thought he would be attracted to someone covered in soot and grime, yet here he is.)
“Again?” The chef sighed. “We can’t afford to keep replacing these valves, Maude!”
“Then, we need to get a new oven. As I have been telling you for the last three months. You can either spend the money now on a new oven, or spend triple the amount over the next six months replacing these infernal valves. Your choice, Frank.”
Archibald felt his stomach flip as he exited the room with the tea tray.
Who would have guessed that I would be sweet on a woman like that?
~
Their bimonthly days off quickly fell into a routine: Archibald would wake early, preparing a breakfast and pot of tea before Maude woke. They would eat together before spending all day in the market, finishing the day at what had become their usual pub.
As they got to know each other, their conversations grew increasingly personal.
“So, how many girls are waiting for you back home?” She asked one evening.
He choked on his ale. “I’m– I’m sorry?”
“A man like you must have had a gaggle of women after him. How many were there?”
He felt color rise to his cheeks. “I, um– don’t think there were ever any.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I have difficulty believing that.”
“And…” He swallowed. “I would have difficulty believing that you didn’t have your own string of suitors.”
She laughed. “A nobody who works in the kitchens? You jest.”
“If they knew how good your cooking is, you’d be fending them off with a stick.” He said, miming the action with his fork.
“You are sweet, you know that? It’s no wonder Melanie fancies you.”
“... pardon me?”
Maude laughed again. He loved her laugh. “I think it’s pretty obvious. Convenient how she volunteers to clean Lord Phillips’ chambers while you’re there, hm?”
Truthfully, Archibald hadn’t noticed. He only had eyes for one woman.
“Honestly… I didn’t pick that up.” He said, a bit sheepishly.
She shrugged. “I suppose you’re too busy running around the manor like a madman, ensuring Lord Phillips has everything he needs.”
“The promotion won’t earn itself, I’m afraid.” He sighed. “I will be glad when I don’t have to go to the kitchens so many times to retrieve this or that or the other.”
“But then you wouldn’t see me as much. I’d miss you.”
He felt his heart turn a summerault.
She would miss him.
~
Not even Archibald could miss the hints that she was dropping.
Little comments, compliments, even flirtations had become an every day occurrence.
Surely, she returned his feelings.
But was it right to act on them?
After being promoted to butler, his position in the household had become a little more stable.
And she was on track to become the next head chef–surely, the master would look the other way as long as they got their work done.
Life was not meant to be lived alone, after all.
“What’s on your mind, Archie?” Maude asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“Hm?” He looked up from the produce. “Oh, nothing. Zucchini, I suppose.”
“I never knew you had such a proclivity for produce.” She said, a slight laugh in her voice.
Sweet divine, even her laugh was making him go red in the face.
“Oh, you know. I have learned a lot since I started going to the market with you.”
“I’m glad I’m such a good teacher.”
He couldn’t help but let his gaze linger on her as she sorted through vegetables.
~
Today was the day.
Today, he would ask her to dinner.
Not as friends, but as… prospective partners.
Though they had gone to dinner so many times, Archibald still found himself short of breath as he waited in the kitchen.
He had spent all the money he had on another bouquet of wisteria and a bottle of vanilla extract, which she had complained about being out of.
“What’s all this?” She asked, entering the kitchen.
“Maude! You’re– you’re early,” He said, clearing his throat, “Not that I mind, of course! I enjoy the time we spend together, and, ah, that is what I wish to speak to you about…”
She raised an eyebrow. “What is this about?”
He took a breath. “We have known each other for some months now, and it seems we are both moving to a more stable place in our careers…” He had practiced this speech at least twelve times in the mirror, yet it all came spilling out in a rush. “I… I have quite enjoyed getting to know you. Your love for your art… your love for your craft is… it mesmerises me. Your-your passion, your drive, your wit… getting to know you has been such a pleasure. Not that I don’t want to get to know you more… what I wish to say is that… I got you these.” He quickly picked up the bouquet. “And this.” He gestured to the bottle. “You have become very dear to me, and I wanted to ask… wanted to ask…”
She smiled at him. “Ah, you silly, silly man. Are you trying to ask me on a date?”
“... would you want to go with me?”
“Of course I would.” She took his free hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me.”
He grinned. “Oh, thank the divine.”
~
He had been right– Maude was promoted to head chef as soon as Chef O’Leary had retired.
With the promotion came a private room– which she was elated about.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a bed this big!” She exclaimed, falling across the mattress. “And all to myself!”
“You’ve more than earned it, darling.” He said, hanging the last of her clothes in the armoire.
“Thank you for helping me move in.” She said, sitting up.
“Of course. What else is a Beau for?” He asked, stretching.
“Oh, I can think of a few things. Looking handsome, carrying baskets upon baskets of produce, reaching the tall shelves…”
“I am but a tool at your disposal, my love.” He said, bowing slightly.
The smile that lit her face was infectious.
It had not taken him long to profess his love for her, and now, he reminded her of it at every opportunity.
And it never failed to make her smile.
“I believe that is the last of your things.” He said, straightening his lapels. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Wait, you don’t want to stay?” She asked.
Color immediately rushed to his cheeks. “I– um– well, I thought– I was under the assumption that–”
She laughed. “Oh, you silly man. You do not have to stay. I thought that you might enjoy a night or two away from your roommates, since I have my own room now. We don’t have to do anything, if you do not want to– though, I can’t say I would mind.”
Archibald felt his entire face burn.
Although, a reprieve from his three roommates did sound nice.
“If you are offering, I certainly will not decline sleeping here. But, perhaps… we wait until another night for any other… activities.”
She patted the spot next to her, and he hesitantly sat.
“You’re a gentleman.” She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Any of the others would have leaped at the opportunity to spend a night in my bed.”
“I am glad you extended the opportunity to me first.” He said, taking her hand in his own.
~
Archibald began to sleep in her room a few nights a week, sneaking off as soon as the other servants had gone to bed, and returning to his own bed before the sun rose.
He thought he had been discreet about it.
Late one night, he knocked on her door as usual, but she did not answer.
He listened for movement behind the door, paling when he heard sobs.
Cracking open the door, he peeked inside. “Maude? It’s me.”
“Ah–” She wiped her face, quickly turning away from the door. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“I missed you.” He closed the door behind him. “Is something wrong?”
“It might be best if you slept in your own room for a while.”
“Did I do something to offend?” He asked.
“No, no, it’s not you.”
“Maude, darling…” He sat next to her on the bed. “Please, tell me what the matter is. I can help you figure it out.”
“This isn’t something you can help with.” She sighed, turning to him. Her eyes were red and puffy.
“Oh, my love…” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m so sorry.”
She returned his embrace, resting her forehead on his shoulder.
They were silent for a long while, and he felt his own tears well up as hers soaked his shirt.
“The others,” She finally said, “Must have found out about your visits. I heard them today. They called me a loose woman. Said I only got the promotion because you put in a word for me with Lord Phillips.”
“I’m so sorry, Maude… It was never my intention to cause you stress. But for what it’s worth… you and I both know you aren’t loose. All I’ve done here is sleep.”
She laughed slightly. “And snore.”
“And snore. I could talk to them, but I don’t know what good it would do. You hold more power than I ever could.”
She sighed. “I know. I just… let them get to me.”
“If it will make you feel better, I will leave–”
“No.” She cut him off, gripping his shirt. “You’re already here.”
“If you want me to stay, I will stay.”
She pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
She leaned into him, placing her lips on his.
Her lips were soft, and she tasted like cinnamon and vanilla and all things good in the world.
He closed his eyes, suppressing a shudder as she tangled her fingers in his hair.
She laughed slightly as she pulled away. “Sweet divine, I needed that.”
“You are wonderful.” He mumbled.
~
Archibald woke before she did.
He gently wrapped his arms around her sleeping form, pulling her close. Her eyes were still puffy, but a smile graced her features. The sun was just beginning to peak through her window, casting her in an almost ethereal glow. She was always beautiful, but she was even more beautiful like this– and he reveled in the fact that only he got to see it.
He knew that he should probably wake her up.
They both had to face the others. Archibald knew he would have a difficult time keeping his mouth shut. She had asked him not to say anything to them.
But how could he remain silent?
How could he look the other way when they were insulting her honor, causing her deliberate distress?
A sigh pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Good morning.” She said as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Good morning, dear.” He mumbled, kissing her hair.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.”
“We should probably get up.” She sighed, making no attempt to leave the bed.
“There is no harm in laying here for a few extra minutes.”
“Just a few.” She agreed.
They were silent for a while, neither wanting to move or leave the other’s warmth.
“Promise me you won’t say anything to them, Archie.”
“I don’t know how you expect me to do that.”
“I just want to keep the peace. I won’t let them get to me. Besides, we know that we are both innocent. There is nothing in the divine teachings about resting together before marriage.” She sat up.
“That is true.” He sighed, getting out of bed.
“Just… trust me on this.”
“I trust you on everything.”
She smiled. “I’ll see you out there.”
He left her room, still thinking.
How dare they?
He slipped into his bed, mind still swirling.
“Where have you been?”
Archibald shot up. “I… nowhere. Fell asleep in the library again.” He said, laughing slightly.
George, one of the other valets, sat up. “Mhm. If that’s so, why do you come back smelling like… perfume?”
Perfume? Maude didn’t wear perfume.
“You must be mistaken.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’d been in Miss Meyer’s room. The others have said that you’ve gotten awful close with her.”
“That’s Chef Meyer, to you.” He said sharply.
George grinned. “Ah, so there are truths to that rumor. I thought a lark like you wouldn’t have the stomach to spend the nights in a lady’s room before marrying her… though, I suppose you’ve made sure she isn’t a lady anymore.”
Archibald felt white-hot rage burn through him. Taking a breath, he thought of how to respond.
It is better to damage my own reputation and live with it than cause her any more pain.
“If you must know, I spent the night with… a woman of the oldest profession. I cannot believe you would even insinuate I would engage in anything more with Chef Meyer. I won’t listen to any more of this talk.” He grabbed his uniform and rushed out of the room, locking himself in the bathing room.
Great. Now George is going to tell everyone I’m the sort who enjoys spending my salary on streetwalkers.
He allowed his head to rest on the wall.
It’s worth it, as long as they don’t talk about her.
~
“I heard an interesting rumor about you.” Maude said that evening as he settled into bed.
“Hm? And what might that be?” He asked, already knowing what she was going to say.
“I heard that you spend all your money on women of the night. In fact, you’re so addicted that you sneak out every night to see one.”
Archibald felt his face grow red.
“Are you stepping out on me, Archibald?” She asked, smirking.
“George caught me sneaking into the room this morning.” He confessed. “I had to tell him something. I just… said the first thing that popped into my head.”
“Well, you’re hardly the only one in this house that partakes.” She sighed. “I’ve caught a few of the kitchen boys sneaking back in after a night out. I’m sure the rumor will die down eventually.”
“I hope so. But, at least… they’re not talking about you anymore.”
She snorted. “Wait, is that why you said that? Archibald, I told you not to say anything.”
“He confronted me directly about it. What else would you have had me do?” He asked.
She kissed his cheek, taking his hand under the blanket. “Thank you for defending my honor.”
“I’d do it again.” He said, cupping her cheek with his free hand.
He tipped his chin to meet hers, and all his embarrassment melted away as their lips met.
~
Maude was right– the rumor faded away after a few short weeks.
Unfortunately, that was only due to the fact that Jacob Phillips, the Heir to the Phillips house, was deathly ill.
Archibald was constantly running around: fetching different doctors, picking up medications and remedies from every apothecary across the city, and constantly making excuses to Lord Phillips’ clients so he could be with his son.
Most nights, he fell into bed hours after the sun set, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillow; most mornings, he was up long before the sun rose.
Archibald hadn’t interacted much with the family (besides Lord Phillips, of course), but even he could see how it was affected.
Lady Odelia moved about the house like a ghost.
Archibald wasn’t sure if she’d even smiled since her eldest fell ill.
The youngest, Henry, seemed conflicted.
On one hand, he was happy to have their nurse’s attention all to himself, and he was constantly going on special outings and given toys to keep him distracted.
But on the other, it was obvious he missed his brother.
Archibald accompanied Henry and Lillian, his nurse, on one of these outings.
Lillian’s face was drawn– it was clear that she was barely shielding her worry for her other charge.
“Look, Lily!” Henry exclaimed, pointing to the window display of a bakery. “Look at the pretty cakes!”
“Those look lovely, Henry.” She said, barely turning her head.
“You’re not looking!” He huffed.
“Those are very pretty.” Archibald said, crouching beside him. “Do you have a favorite? I like this one, with the roses.” He said, pointing at a cake almost dripping with flowers made from icing.
“Hmm…” Henry hummed, thinking for a moment. “That one! It looks like a giant pillow!”
Archibald laughed. “It does. I think it would be a bit soft for sleeping, though.”
Henry giggled. “You can’t sleep on a cake!”
Archibald facepalmed, miming embarrassment. “Silly me. I suppose you can’t, can you. Come on, then. The city is full of things to see.” He stood.
Henry grabbed his hand, and Archibald turned to Lillian.
Is this allowed?
She nodded wordlessly.
He smiled, holding the child’s hand in his own.
As they walked, Henry chattered endlessly about anything and everything– his favorite toys, what he was studying with his tutors, what he had for lunch yesterday.
Archibald listened, ensuring the child was receiving his undivided attention.
After all, he was as worried as any of them for his brother.
~
“Would you… ever want to have children?” Archibald asked, closing the door to Maude’s room behind him.
She snorted. “At least buy me dinner first.”
His face reddened. “Not… not right now.”
“That would cause quite a scandal, I think.” She said. “But, to answer your question… I think I would. I don’t know if I’m built to be a mother… but I’ve always seen myself with a few little ones. If I met the right person, that is. What brings this up?”
“I walked with Henry and Miss Lillian today. He seemed drawn to me. It made me think about… having a child of our own. My own.” He quickly corrected himself.
She smiled softly. “I wouldn’t mind raising a family with you. We’ve been together nearly a year– others would be married by now.”
He blinked.
It’s been a year?
“Would you?” He asked. “Want to marry me?”
“Is this how you’re proposing?” She asked. “No ring? No fancy dinner?”
“No, no, of course not. Honestly, you think I’d ask you like this? I was just… asking. We’d have to make arrangements… and ask Lord Phillips. I think that would be the most difficult part. Unless, of course, you say no.”
“There is not a world where I would ever say no to you. I hate to say it… but I do like the sound of Mrs. Maude Wright.”
“Chef Maude Wright.” He corrected.
She laughed softly. “Maybe, once Jacob has recovered…”
He laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll prepare a plea. I’ll get on my knees, if I have to.”
~
The next morning, the servants were informed that Jacob Phillips had passed in the night.
Funeral preparations began immediately, which meant that Archibald and the other manservants were in the city all day and into the night.
He retuned to the house well after midnight, deciding to sleep in his own bed for once.
Sleeping alone after having her at his side for nearly half a year was odd.
He was cold.
And he missed holding her.
Unfortunately, he was relegated to sleeping alone for the next week– the one time he did go to her room, she was already fast asleep.
He heard through the grapevine that she was working from sunrise to sunset to prepare all of Jacob’s favorites for the funerary feast.
The last time he had checked the guest list, well over two hundred people were going to attend.
The Lord and Lady were, of course, a wreck.
Lord Phillips had been calling for tea and snacks at all hours, and the maids had said that Lady Odelia had refused to get out of bed for days, not taking any food or drink.
The day before the funeral, as Archibald helped some of the maids switch the curtains to black in one of the drawing rooms, he nearly stepped on Henry.
“I’m so sorry, young Lord.” Archibald apologized. “I did not see you there.”
“It’s ok.” He said, his usually boisterous tone now quiet. “Can you take me to the garden? Lily’s with mother.”
Archibald nodded. “Of course.”
The garden was still full of life, as if it was unaware of the gloom that had settled over the house.
“It’s nice out here.” Henry said, sitting on a bench.
“It is.” Archibald nodded his head. “Not too hot.”
“Do you know… what’s going to happen tomorrow?” He asked.
Archibald had to think for a moment. The boy was ten. He had the right to know.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll all go to the church. Jacob will be there, in a fancy box called a casket. Your father has requested an open-casket service, meaning that you’ll be able to see him. The pastor will give a sermon about life and death, then everyone will line up to do something called ‘paying respects’. It means that you will go up to the casket and say your final goodbyes. You don’t actually have to talk to him if you don’t want to, but it is customary that you stand in front of the casket for a minute or so. After that, we’ll go to the church yard, where they’ll bury Jacob. Then, we’ll come back to the house, where we’ll have lunch.”
“... do I have to look at him?” He asked.
“Not directly. Someone once told me that it’s easier to stare at the lid of the casket.”
“... thank you.” Henry sighed, picking at a bush.
Archibald remained quiet.
It was clear that the boy just wanted out of the house– and that he needed time to process.
He was more than happy to be there for the boy, even in silence.
~
Archibald and Maude both returned to her room after the funeral, sitting together on her bed.
“I haven’t seen you in a week.” She sighed, leaning on his shoulder.
“I missed you.” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“I missed you more. Slaving away in a hot kitchen for hours on end was unbearable without you there, suffering with me.”
He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. The food turned out beautifully.”
“I made all his favorites. He would have loved it, I think.”
“He would have.”
They sat in silence for a moment, thinking about the week’s events.
“What does this mean?” She finally asked. “For… our plan? Marriage?”
“I don’t know.” He admitted. “But now is… not the right time.”
“When will be?”
“I’m… not sure. They’re grieving, Maude.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I suppose… I’m tired of sneaking around.”
“I know you are. I’ll figure it out soon.”
He only hoped he could figure it out before she went to Lord Phillips first.
~
The next few months flew by.
Eventually, the Phillips had to get back out into society (even just to save face), and with that reemergence came various parties, gatherings, and dinners– all of which Archibald and Maude had to facilitate.
Every time Archibald worked up the courage to ask Lord Phillips for permission to marry Maude, he was given another task to perform, or a party to plan, or invitations to send out.
“I won’t wait forever.” Maude huffed late one evening.
“I want to do right by you.” Archibald sighed, pulling her closer. “We just… need to wait until the right time. I promise, it will be soon.”
“I love you, but I’m getting tired of waiting.” She mumbled, resting her forehead on his shoulder.
“I know.” He tried to ignore the anxiety that twisted in his stomach.
The next day, Archibald once again steeled his nerves as he stood outside Lord Phillips’ door.
This time, he wouldn’t let him distract him with tasks or parties.
He would ask.
“Sir, a moment of your time?” He asked as he entered the office.
Lord Phillips looked up from his work. “Ah, Archibald. What do you need?”
“I have a very important matter I wish to discuss with you.”
“You’re not leaving us, are you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, sir.” Archibald swallowed, taking a deep breath. “I need to ask you an important question.”
“I’m listening.” He said, resting his chin in his hands.
“I do not know if you have noticed, but Chef Meyer and I have been courting for nearly a year and a half. I am aware that this is against propriety, but I can assure you that neither of us have let it affect our work, as I am sure you have seen. We are both completely devoted to our positions and are making every effort to complete our work as efficiently and productively as possible. However, we both wish to confirm our relationship before the divine, so that we can be a proper family. We would like your blessing to marry.”
“Hm. Odelia told me that a few of the maids had suspicions about the two of you…” He sighed. “You both are exemplary workers, and I have the utmost respect for the two of you. However, I cannot allow you to marry. It just isn’t proper, having two servants joined in that way. What if she were to fall pregnant, and I were to lose my chef? It just isn’t feasible right now. I am sorry, Archibald. You are permitted to continue courting. Ask again in a few years– we might have a good replacement by then.”
Archibald tried to keep his expression neutral. “Thank you for your consideration, sir.” Without another word, he left the office, sinking into a chair in the hallway.
How was he going to tell her?
~
Maude’s face fell when she saw him.
“He said no, didn’t he.”
Archibald nodded, not having the heart to put it into words.
She turned back towards her chopping block, busying herself with vegetables.
“He did say… that we may continue seeing each other. If you like.”
She sighed, saying nothing.
“Maude–”
“Don’t.” She set down her knife. “It is not you I’m angry at, but I just… I can’t look at you right now. I’ll see you tonight.”
Without another word, he left the kitchen through the servants’ exit.
He wandered around the city, trying not to look at the couples he saw along the way.
She didn’t deserve this.
She didn’t deserve any of this.
He ended up going to a general store and spending entirely too much money on a bottle of brandy.
If they were both going to be sad, they could at least be sad while sloshed.
He returned to the house as the sun set, and he couldn’t help but notice the eerie silence that had settled on the kitchen.
Maude usually had all the kitchen staff clean up after dinner (even if that made the process much slower). It was a time of laughter and chatter– a stark contrast to what Archibald saw now.
Maude’s domain was spotless and completely devoid of life.
~
She was waiting for him in her room, already in her nightclothes.
“I bring libations,” He said, closing the door behind him, “So we can at least forget today for a little while.”
She said nothing, staring at him intently.
He froze in place, unsure how to react to her intense scrutiny.
“Darling,” He finally said, “What did I do?”
“Sh,” She held up a finger, “I’m thinking.”
“About… what?”
“I am making a decision.”
“O… kay? Should I go get glasses?”
“No. Bottle.” She gestured for him to hand it over.
Once he did, she unscrewed the neck and drank directly from the lip of the bottle.
Archibald felt a blush rise to his cheeks.
“I’ve decided.” She said, holding the bottle out to him.
He took a swig, sitting down next to her. “Decided–decided what?” He asked, stifling a cough as the drink burned his throat.
“You aren’t devout. And I am not devout. Are we?”
“No,” He said, shaking his head, “But what does this have to do about anything?”
“All a wedding requires is vows. We don’t need a priest. We don’t need a ceremony.”
He sighed, setting their bottle on the floor. “But you want one. We want one.”
“It’s… I can’t wait any longer.” She took his hand. “I’ve decided that you’re the person I’m spending my life with. The church can know later. The only people that need to affirm that now are you and me. Marry me, Archibald.”
“I…” He was rendered speechless. “Of course I will.”
“Give me your tie. We need a cord.”
He quickly unwound it from his neck, draping it over their clasped hands.
“In the name of the Angels, and their ever-present vigil over their creation,” She said, “We have come into this bedroom with the intent to be joined in matrimony. This… tie symbolizes our covenant to one another.”
“How do you know the ceremony?” Archibald asked, stifling a laugh.
“I’ve been to a lot of weddings, Archie. Now, say your vows.”
“I, Archibald Wright, am prepared to enter this marriage pact, to cherish my bride as the angels cherish humanity, to provide for my family, and to declare my love for her now and always.”
She smiled, and he felt it in his very bones.
“I, Maude Meyer, am prepared to enter this marriage pact, to cherish my husband as the angels cherish humanity, to bring forth children, and to declare my love for him now and always.”
Together, they tied his tie into a knot around their hands.
With her free hand, Maude cupped his cheek, and they kissed, deep and slow and full of all the love they could give.
When they pulled away, Maude swiped a thumb across his cheek, wiping away tears he hadn’t noticed.
“I love you, Archie.” She whispered against his lips.
“And I you, my darling.”
She untied their hands, then kissed him again.
He let his arms settle around her waist, and she shifted closer to him.
“We don’t have to do this.” He murmured against her lips. “If you don’t want to.”
“I’ve been waiting for months, Archibald. Don’t let me stop you.” She unclasped his vest with her free hand.
They became a frenzy of heat and passion and yearning, moving as one, discovering each other all over again.
Afterward, they held each other under a tangle of sheets.
“You realize,” Archibald’s voice was scratchy. “This means you’re stuck with me. I’m afraid there is no chance in Infernium that I would ever let you go now.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Maude mumbled, kissing his neck. “You’re mine.”
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Thank-you to all of my new Internet stranger friends for being so gracious about having my post shoved onto your dashboards. I loved reading all of your kind tags and comments! Both Martin and Bosco have been gone for several years now but for 24 hours, they felt very present in my life. I greatly appreciate this gift. ❤️
Thank you to everyone who commented in their tags or messaged me. Indeed, today is “Martin and Bosco Day”. I originally whimsically blazed this photo on 13 July 2022. I never expected Martin and Bosco to travel so far and make so many new friends. The experience has been such a gift for me.
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I've got so much Corbeau brainrot y'all it's not even funny
Beta read by the fantastic @godserene !
Corbeau wasn’t one to let his emotions show.
He had clawed his way from the depths by forgetting that part of himself. After all, his feelings had never brought him any good.
That is, until you came around.
Team MZ’s secret weapon had left their imprint on the entirety of Lumiose. After all, they had saved the city from utter ruin, and they had brought about the Mega-Evolution of the city that Quasartico had failed to deliver.
They had made it look so simple.
They had become so powerful so quickly. They had quickly assembled their core team, propelling to the front of the ZA royale, seemingly without trying. It almost looked effortless for them.
Almost.
But, everyone had cracks in their foundation.
And yours were starting to show.
The Rust Syndicate’s office was the one place you could get away from the public eye: away from nosy reporters, adoring fans, and battle-hungry competitors.
At first, Corbeau had been apathetic to your presence. Most of the time, you sat in his office, scrolling on your phone.
It was nice to find some quiet, you had said. Not even Hotel Z was safe anymore. Your victory had been amazing for business.
Corbeau could certainly understand wanting to be free from the public eye.
Recently, your visits to his office had become more frequent.
Corbeau couldn’t tell if you actually enjoyed his company, or if you just wanted quiet.
One stormy afternoon, you trudged into Corbeau’s office, not even bothering to wipe the rain from your boots. Groaning, you flopped onto one of the couches. “Why did you let me become the hero of Lumiose?”
“Hello to you, too.” He said, chuckling.
“I can’t go anywhere anymore without being swarmed. Even Canari said it was bad.”
“I could easily get you a security detail.” Corbeau straightened a stack of papers. “I have plenty of grunts that would keep the people away.”
“No,” You sighed. “I don’t want them to be scared of me.”
“Fear is a powerful tactic.” He said.
“For you.”
“For me.” He smirked.
“I just wish…” You trailed off.
Corbeau raised an eyebrow.
“I’m still glad I did it. I always will be. But I wish people will understand that I’m just… I’m just a normal person, you know?” You sat up, looking at Corbeau. “How do you cope with the fact that you won’t ever be seen as just… a guy?”
“Because that’s not how I want to be seen.” He stood from his desk. “I worked for years to build my reputation. Normal is not a word that can describe people like us.” He sat down next to you.
“I wish it was.”
“Normal isn’t meant for who we are. We’re great.” He said. “And greatness can inspire love, or it can bring fear. Clearly, you and I are on different sides of the spectrum.”
“We don’t have to be.” You said. “You’re a good guy, Corbeau. Even if you insist you’re not.”
Corbeau chuckled. “You keep saying that.”
“Would a bad guy let me interrupt his work all the time to get away?”
“He would if he had ulterior motives.” Corbeau said. “Much can be gained from offering a reprieve.”
“Do you have ulterior motives with me?” You asked.
Corbeau smirked. “You tell me.”
You looked away from him, the blush growing on your cheeks.
“I was serious about the security detail.” He said. “I’ll go with you myself, if I have to.”
“I told you, I don’t need that.” You sighed. “I just… need to convince them I’m a normal person.”
“You’re not a normal person. You’re—“
“If you call me the hero of Lumiose, I’m sending all my Pokemon out and telling them to hit you.”
“I was going to say that you’re incredible.”
You fell silent.
“The way you fight, the way you move, the way you strategize… You’re remarkable. So, don’t go around saying you’re normal.” He smirked, his gaze lingering on you. Suddenly, he stood from the couch, walked over to his desk, and slammed his laptop shut. “Now. I’ve been meaning to go over to the Sushi High Roller to try out their seasonal menu… what do you say we blow this joint?”
“That depends… are you paying?”
Corbeau chuckled. “But of course— anything for the hero of Lumiose.” He said, extending a hand.
You took it, standing. “Don’t call me that, and we have a deal.”
Other Pokémon seem so happy to evolve, and sometimes they even really want to..
What does it feel like?
Does it feel comforting?
Does it feel strange?
Do other Pokémon even remember how it feels once it's over?
I don't know...
I'm not saying this because I am wanting to evolve, I'm happy with who and how I am, but I also feel like I'm missing out on something. I like being just a Snom, but I can't help but wonder what it's like...
I'm sorry that this is sort of coming out of nowhere, it's just getting into the season where a lot of others finally evolve.
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Shoutout to Twisted for having the lines “science says you’re dead and gone forever reason says I’m talking to the air but something in my heart some secret hidden part illogically insist that you are there somewhere” and “he fucked a tiger” be in the same musical
