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toxinellebug · 6 months

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It’s The Supreme’s World: We just live in it…

Some world building and character info for the Re-Verse and how it affects Marinette, Adrien, and Gabriel before we get into the next Kamikotized hero.

Peace was never an option… It was an ultimatum.

While World Peace Day is celebrated everywhere, truly, only Capital Cities are able to host the full splendor of such a magnificent event.

Paris is famous for never being outdone when it comes to this extravagant and cherished celebration:

Throughout the day, on every corner of the city, you could find a rare sight you would not see any other day of the year- flower carts.

Usually, flowers were too expensive for just anyone to purchase, so florists only sold the finest, most delicate and exotic flowers to appeal to the high class.

But on World Peace Day, cheap, less popular flowers were made available so even those of low income could enjoy the rare luxury of owning a real flower;

Perhaps it is a frivolous purchase, but even the most stingy of penny-pinchers could not resist the urge to loosen their purse strings when offered a single pink carnation for the ridiculously low price of only €20!

Flowers weren’t the only thing worth buying-

There were street vendors with international fare offering a variety of delights one would expect from a carnival or festival. Each seems so exotic when they come from a culture different than your own; takoyaki from Japan, bratwurst from Germany, frappe from Italy, Cotton Candy from the United States of America.

(Yup, spun sugar is originally a traditional american food invented in 1897 by American citizens William Morrison, and John C. Wharton, and it remained a unique American speciality until it was introduced at the 1904 World Fair. The irony? One of those dudes was a dentist.)

It is a culinary trip around the world without the cost of voyage.

Unless you were a vendor, of course.

While plenty were local, many more would venture from their homes to capital cities for World Peace Day, knowing they could make a larger profit than if they were to sell their goods at smaller towns.

Some even traveled from out of country, it was a huge investment for a single day, but one that would immensely pay off if they could convince customers that their goods were more authentic.

There was also a lavish parade with floats decorated in peace lilies, white poppies, hyacinth, cosmos, pincushion flowers, red peonies, and lavender, all carrying red banners with the symbol of The Supreme.

Marching bands play folk music, and talented performers in costumes from all over the world perform traditional dances.

It is a feast for the eyes seeing all the different cultures that were united for the sake of Peace.

Of course, the most beautiful sight (that you have to pay an admission fee for) is in the Jardin des Tuileries where all the metal sculptures and plastic foliage are removed to make room for impressive, imported floral displays;

Tudor roses from Britain, Quatre–temps from Canada, Dahlias from Mexico, Cattleya orchids from Brazil, Meihua from China, and naturally French Iris at the center… All countries in the world are represented by a display of their national flower, to symbolize how all nations came together under the guidance of The Supreme.

—

Roland Dupain loves World Peace Day more than Christmas!

Poverty had become common place after the Great war- the whole world seemed dull and grey. But the people endured to rebuild what had been lost. Roland Dupain’s grandfather had perished in the war, and his grandmother had to raise 2 sons on her own, one of which would marry Roland’s mother.

Then, WW2 began.

Both his father and his uncle went off to fight, following in their father’s footsteps.

5 months passed before Mrs. Dupain received word that Roland’s uncle had been killed in action.

A miserable year passed and the world descended into Hell-

Nazi’s invaded France and took control of Paris.

Parisians lived in fear and battled with hunger every day. A pregnant Mrs. Dupain cried herself to sleep, having lost all hope of ever seeing her husband alive again, resigning herself to her fate of having to bring a child into the world that would never know their father…

Then, the unthinkable happened;

The Axis Powers abruptly and unanimously surrendered!

Not to the Allies Forces…. No, something far greater and more powerful.

There was dancing in the streets! Peace at long last!

Tanks and weapons were disassembled, materials and rations that had been collected for the war efforts were donated back to the people, armies were permanently disbanded, and Roland’s father came home.

Oh, that euphoric feeling of relief and utter joy when Mrs. Roland leapt into her husband’s arms, weeping tears of joy.

No more war, no more bloodshed, no more hiding in fear, no more starving!

From now on, theirs was a world of everlasting peace!

ALL HAIL THE SUPREME!

2 months later, Roland Dupain was born, and every year until his father’s died from Tuberculosis, Roland was regaled with stories of the suffering caused during the War, and how The Supreme was their savior.

Ever since, Roland Dupain has celebrated Peace Day with fond memories and a sense of pride…

Which is why his greatest shame is his wife, Gina.

The same woman who hard the nerve to lecture him about about family values when he was ready to disown his son for marrying an outrageous woman who wouldn’t even take her husband’s last name and who had nonsense ideas about experimenting with time-trusted recipes, (flour from rice?? Peuh! That’s not how it’s done!).

Gina, with her big speech about how nothing was more important than family…

She brought disgrace to their family when she was arrested 2 years ago for civil disobedience and public disturbance!

Well, there was no way he was going to allow his granddaughter to go down a criminal path!

The world was tough but fair; so long as you work hard and follow all the rules, no questions, you won’t have any problems.

So simple!

Marinette needed to learn to how lucky she was to live in a world under The Supreme’s protection.

What better way to do that then helping her grandfather sell traditional Pain de campagne to tourists on World Peace Day?

It was a tradition started by his father, that he had carried on and tried to continue with his own son (until that wife of his put crazy ideas in his head like how pain au chocolat would be more popular.) but now, he would continue this tradition with Marinette- she would become part of a proud history, develop a sense of service, and most importantly, stay on the straight and narrow!

Children need discipline, after all!

She would thank him, one day.

-Marinette strongly disagrees.

Up until she was 11 years old, for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, World Peace Day was all about yummy treats, exciting parades, and pretty flowers.

While her parents sold pastries, her Nonna would take her strolling around the city to enjoy the excitement!

Then, just a few months before she turned 12, Nonna was sentenced to 8 years in a penitentiary labor camp.

Now, World Peace Day was about carrying baskets of rye sourdough bread, lectures on how things were and were not done, and the same old stories Grandpa Roland had already told her hundreds of times before, all while watching everyone get to have fun.

It was like having detention outside of school!

The worst part was the elderly tourists who would gush over her and pinch her cheeks for ‘being such a good girl who helps out her grandfather!’

Apparently being a “good girl” didn’t entitle her to personal space.

Seriously, why did people feel entitled to put their hands on her just because she was a kid?

Mom and Dad were no help; her Mom believed this was important quality time with her grandfather that she’ll appreciate someday when she’s older.

Dad’s opinion was, as always, that her mother was right.

You know what’d she’d really appreciate?

Getting to celebrate World Peace day instead of lugging around crusty bread made from overly fermented yeast! It was like her grandfather had an allergy to delicious food and having fun!

Grandpa Roland claimed World Peace Day was his favorite holiday, yet he spent the whole day either selling bread or complaining about how other people were selling bread wrong, how people dressed was wrong, or how people looked at their phones while walking around was wrong!

No one seemed to know how anything was “done,” save for him, and honestly? Marinette was 100% done with all of it.

—

For Adrien, World Peace Day is now the one time the city doesn’t stink in the literal sense.

The amount of actual flowers should help offset the stench of chemical fumes.

But he didn’t use to think that way…

World Peace Day used to make him happy, because it made his mother happy.

When he was little, his mother would giggle at the spectacle of Adrien-tallest in the world, as he sat atop his father’s shoulders for the best view of the parade in all of Paris.

Her smile was even sweeter than the sticky residue she tried in vain to wipe from his cheeks because Père didn’t hesitate to buy him every sugary treat that caught his eye.

Her voice was like a song as she pointed out and named each and every flower in Jardin des Tuileries to him, and as much as he wanted to pay attention, it was a hypnotic lullaby paired with a sugar crash that left him in a sleepy daze in his father’s warm embrace as he was carried home, his last conscious thoughts his mother’s kiss upon his forehead as his blanket was tucked tight around him.

As he got big enough to walk without being carried, he toured the celebrations with his parents each holding his hands in theirs.

Father still had his sweet tooth, despite mère playfully scolding him, reminding him of the lecture Adrien would get from the dentiste.

He was old enough to listen to her name all the flowers now, but too excited about the exotic music and the foreign dancers to really pay attention to what she said.

Though he did hear, and make a face, at his father’s mushy declaration that mère was the most beautiful rose in the world.

He never really noticed that mother’s grip on his hand was starting to weaken.

Years passed and he was too busy checking that the path ahead was clear of bumps and dips to notice any candy vendors or dances. His father was also more focused on pushing mother’s wheelchair than enjoying the parade.

Mother’s tone was still cheerful as she admired the flowers, but Adrien was too worried about whether the outdoor air was making her cough worse, her words went in one ear and out the other.

Last year she had been too weak to get out of bed. She had been too exhausted to watch the entirety of the parade on TV- visiting Jardin des Tuileries was out of the question.

Adrien would have given ANYTHING to listen to her list off the different flowers, he swore he would commit each one to memory.

Now….

Was there really any point?

He’d seen all the dances dozens of times, the music was also pretty boring.

There was nothing special about the food vendors, and too much sugar was terrible for your skin anyway.

He honestly didn’t care about flowers.

World Peace Day was just another over-rated holiday that people obsessed over to temporarily forget the mediocrity of their dreary lives.

What a joke.

—

For a young Gabi Grassette, son of a pommes frites vendor, World peace day meant sweets; Barbe à papa, English toffees, Mexican chocolates, and Polkagris!

Their family didn’t have a lot, but on this most special of days, his Papa would allow him some spending money to enjoy what the world had to offer~

At 8 years old, he was practically grown up, and able to walk up and down the street by himself.

It was the first World Peace Day he had a clear memory of, it was also the first time he saw a real flower up close.

Back then, he hadn’t really understood what his parents meant; things were either “real” or “imaginary”, weren’t they?

He was able to touch the plastic flowers his mother decorated their kitchen window with, and last week in L'Ecole Primaire his teacher taught him how to fold fleurs de papier. Those were plenty real enough!

Why would adults waste euros on something silly like flowers when they could buy candy instead?

Gabi couldn’t believe he was already so much smarter than everybody else! That was probably why he was allowed to enjoy the celebration by himself unlike other children who still needed adults to watch them.

That was until he stumbled across “it”.

A single blossom that had fallen off a parade float, carried off by a gentle breeze, only to land delicately at his feet.

It was so much more fragile than he’d imagined;

The petals were just as thin as paper, yet surprisingly soft to the touch.

Its center was fuzzy? A scent not unlike the perfume he was used to, but not the same either- it was both more airy yet more bold, but like a passing whisper- there was no strange undertone to remind him of cleaning sprays.

The stem was flexible, to a point. It was smooth with a certain give. If he pressed a fingernail to it, it tore a little, but instead of revealing wire inside, it was just more green- a sticky green.

The leaves had… creases? The lines weren’t painted on, they were embedded in the leaf itself almost like…. like… veins.

Veins, as if it were….

Alive.

This tiny thing in his hands wasn’t made in a classroom or a factory… it was ALIVE.

He had been told that flowers and other plants were things that grew from the ground, but he had never fully understood what that truly meant until now.

Flowers, REAL flowers, were delicate, fragrant, colorful, and ALIVE and it was the most amazing thing Gabi had ever seen!!!

But, why was something so precious only celebrated one day of the year?

Why were there so few?

Why didn’t the adults grow them everywhere? Why did they have to settle for paper or plastic ones when real ones were so much better?

It wasn’t the first time he, or any child for that matter, had questioned why the world was the way that it was, but for Gabi, it was the first time he had questioned why no one was trying to make the world better.

While his childhood had given him the blissful ignorance of believing that a certain holiday was all about delicious treats and beautiful flowers, with adulthood came the wisdom of understanding that World Peace Day was supposed to symbolize the end of the violent history of the world that would never again be repeated.

But only the enlightened were able to realize what World Peace Day was really about;

Worshipping The Supreme.

Some speculated that The Supreme was a small group of the world’s greatest minds.

Others suggested The Supreme was a single individual, appointed by the Divine Almighty to lead the world to salvation.

A remaining few even dared to imagine The Supreme as God himself; righting the wrongs of humanity and guiding them to the perfect world they could have been before the Tower of Babel.

Perhaps that last one wasn’t too far fetched-

After all, the way all the World Leaders agreed to surrender their power after WW2 without hesitation was almost as if they were compelled by some supernatural force…

In order to ensure everlasting peace for generations to come,The Supreme reshaped the nations of the world;

Monarchies were archaic- being able to trace your incestuous genealogy back to the dark ages didn’t qualify you to have any sort of authority.

Elections were flawed and allowed money, baseless propaganda, and empty promises, to fool voters and keep the greedy and corrupt in power.

That’s why wars over natural resources, religious superiority, or ethnic cleansing used to be commonplace throughout history- the wrong people were put in charge of governing the masses.

Only exceptional individuals who will uphold the ideals of a utopian society should be given that kind of power.

Mayors, Governors, Senators, and Prime Ministers/Presidents were replaced with High Officials, Grand Officials, Executive Officials, and Executive Administrators…

All of which were selected by The Supreme, and who answered only to The Supreme.

Only The Supreme could decide what those “utopian ideals” were, and no one else had any say.

Once, Gabi had been foolish enough to believe that was what was best.

After reinventing himself, from his name to the people he associated with, becoming a member of high society allowed to walk amongst the rich, the powerful, and the celebrity elite, Gabriel Agreste was finally able to see past all the bureaucratic smoke and mirrors.

No one truly had the best interests for the whole of humanity at heart.

Those with authority obeyed The Supreme out of fear and a lust for power.

Connections with the rich and influential were shallow at best; today you were friends and colleagues, but tomorrow they may very well stab you in the back to turn a profit.

In the end, the power to decide what was justifiably right or criminally wrong belonged to The Supreme, and their word was absolute.

If there was anything to take away from that, it was that absolute power corrupts absolutely.

#miraculous paris #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #miraculous world #shadybug #claw noir #griffe noire #toxinelle #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #marinette dupain cheng #the supreme #emelie agreste #Re-verse

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timeflowedbackwardscotlau · 2 years

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Chapter 6: The Daily Grind Part 2

Verdandi followed Shamura into the Lecture Hall. Nestled deep underneath the rest of the building, the Lecture Hall was an amphitheatre that could hold thousands of people for sermons, lectures, and large-scale rituals. A round table was on the stage, with several people already seated and going through their copies of the revised doctrines.

Verdandi took a seat between a thick furred, brown tabby and a grey furred, short mouse who nodded to her politely.

“I’m Victoria, Memorial Archivist,” the mouse said and shook hands with her. “The rather stern woman next to you is Professor Hawthorn, and a few seats over, is Captain Hunter.”

The dark blue hound, in light armour, nodded respectfully to Verdandi before returning his focus to the papers in his hands.

“A pleasure to meet you, I am Hestia,” Verdandi replied. “I look forward to working with you.”

“We are not here to socialise,” Hawthorn spoke up, never taking her eyes off the page. “This is the largest revision of the Silk Cradle doctrines in recent history.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. And leaned past Verdandi to address Hawthorn directly. “Aren’t you curious about our new colleague?”

Hawthorn looked up from her reading to stare at the mouse flatly. “Their Lordship shall tell us everything relevant to the situation at hand, you may talk the poor woman’s ears offafter the meeting.”

“Professor Hawthorn does have a point,” Verdandi replied calmly. “As far as I know this meeting is to confirm the revisions made and to properly instate whatever role Lord Shamura has planned for me.”

The conversation soon fell to the wayside as everyone focused on reading the revisions, Verdandi had already read the finished version, and waited patiently for the meeting to start in earnest.

After several minutes, Hawthorn set her papers down and looked around the room. “Has anyone seen Ursalina? She should have been here by now.”

“Oh, I did pass her in the Grand Archives on my way here,” Victoria replied. “She was reshelving some books last I checked.”

The sound of feet thumping against the stone floor gradually grew louder as someone new hurried into the room. A tall, pink bear rushed onto the stage and took a seat.

“I am so sorry I’m late!” she said.

“Welcome to the meeting, Ursalina…Better late than never. Did you at least read the revisions we were all given?” Hawthorn asked.

“Yes, I went through it early this morning,” the bear explained.

Shamura finally spoke up from where they sat, looking rather amused at the banter. “Is everyone up to date with the new doctrines?”

With confirmations from everyone present, the meeting began in earnest.

“Firstly, does anyone have any concerns about the changes before they are implemented and announced to the public?” Shamura asked.

Verdandi did not any issue with the changes, most were the return of rituals and societal order that had been lost. She kept silent and waited to hear the opinions of her new colleagues. She noticed Ursalina looked to have something on her mind.

“My lord?” Victoria said. “With the reinstatement of the Soul Sacrifice Ritual, what is to be done with the remains after the soul has been extracted?”

“Unless the participant has stated otherwise in their will, their body is to be donated to one of my siblings,” Shamura replied. “The flesh of those sacrificed under this ritual shall sustain my kin, just as the sacrificed soul shall sustain me.”

“And the memories, the knowledge shall be recorded in the Memorial Archive,” Victoria concluded and smiled. “It will be good to see the old traditions return to Silk Cradle.”

“Your insight was invaluable,” Shamura said and made a note on their own copy of the doctrine. “The soul sacrifice doctrine shall be updated to include how the physical remains are handled after death.”

“M'lord?” Captain Hunter spoke up next. “Regarding the citizens receiving mandatory combat training, wouldn’t it be more time and cost efficient to simply expand the guard?”

Shamura regarded his suggestion with a thoughtful noise. “Our smaller settlements, mostly farming and artisan towns, have recently come under attack by heretics. Though your men are competent, they cannot cover the entirety of our territory,” they explained. “It would be more prudent to ensure our people can defend themselves in the event of an attack.”

“And how would this be regulated?” Hunter asked.

“Training to use a weapon also includes the same lessons about weapon safety, handling and maintenance that the guard also receives,” Shamura replied. “It will be up to you and your chosen instructors to oversee this training and deem whether an individual can be responsible when handling a blade.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “I have no other concerns, everything else looks to be in order.”

“I agree with Captain Hunter,” Hawthorn said and elaborated. “These changes pose no problems to the academics of Silk Cradle, and we will no doubt see an influx of new students as word reaches the public.”

“What about you, Hestia?” Victoria asked as she glanced over at the ‘goat’. “Anything to add?”

Verdandi inclined her head in respect. “Not really, I am new here after all. If anything, much of this will improve the lives of people who live in Silk Cradle.”

“Is anyone else concerned over the removal of the consort doctrine?” Ursalina asked.

Hawthorn brushed the concern aside. “It does not affect marriages between we mortals, and the removal is only temporary as Our Lord requires more time to refine it.”

“But, it is a time honoured tradition!” Ursalina countered. “And with Lord Kallamar’s recent marriage, it would look strange if Lord Shamura were to remove the doctrine even for a short time.”

Hawthorn looked at the bear flatly. “Or rather it would sate the masses desire for news and gossip. The bishops selecting a consort is the talk of the town whenever someone is chosen.”

Verdandi glanced at Shamura, they seemed content to watch the debate play out before voicing their own stance on the doctrine.

“It is a tradition that is as old as The Old Faith itself,” Victoria chimed in. “And people will expect it, it is something familiar, a constant they can rely on in this time of change.”

“Yet it is not our place to demand something of our Lord, nor to force our expectation onto them,” Hunter argued. “There are more important things for the people to worry about than whether Lord Shamura takes a spouse.”

That was true, it would take time for people to get back on their feet, for society to return to what it was. Verdandi knew the decision to revise the doctrine had been a difficult decision to make. Shamura valued the opinions of their people, and to balance the needs of the many compared to their own wants as an individual was something all the bishops had to deal with to maintain faith.

Verdandi finally decided to add her own two cents. “Would it not be better to have a consort doctrine that Our Lord is happy with, rather than conform to the whims of others?” she questioned. “The Old Faith exemplifies the distinction between the bishops as something to be celebrated, and it is the harmony between the four that balances each of their domains.”

Ursalina looked at her sceptically. “And who are you to state such a fact?”

“I am Hestia,” Verdandi replied. “A humble goat hailing from a family of artisans, I have returned to the lands of my ancestors to share the knowledge I have learned in my travels.”

“It is the knowledge of her people that has aided in clearing my mind as of late,” Shamura said. “And it is this knowledge, along with her devotion to The Old Faith, that I have decided to grant her the role of Emissary.”

“Emissary, the new role within the sect?” Hawthorn asked.

“The very same,” Shamura replied. “Offerings have increased recently, and once I resume court, there will be an abundance of people with worries and concerns that I will not have the time to address. Hestia shall be responsible for receiving the offerings and hearing the concerns of the people. She has been instructed in the proper ways to aid the people as my representative or bring them directly to me as needed.”

“The more the merrier,” Hunter intoned. We’ll need all hands on deck once people start getting their bearings.”

“As for the consort doctrine,” Shamura said with a pointed look at Ursalina. “I have had time ponder both its function within my sect, and what is expected of both myself and any consort I will take in the future to come, and have chosen to remove it until I have decided upon a revision that befits both my nature, and the teachings my sect endorse.”

“I apologize for questioning you, Lord Shamura,” Ursalina said earnestly. “It was just unexpected that I didn’t think of why it would be removed.”

“Change is unexpected by nature,” Shamura remined her. “It is natural for mortals to cling to any glimmer of normalcy just as it is natural for them to adapt to the changing times.”

The spider addressed the room once more. “We shall see in the coming days whether others share in Ursalina’s opinion, and if the outcry is great enough to cause dissent, I will reconsider my stance on the doctrine,” they explained. “For now, I stand by my decision.”

“Are we all in agreement with the rest of the revisions?” Hawthorn asked and received confirmation from around the table. She bowed her head in respect at Shamura. “Then we shall await your orders, My Lord.”

“My thanks to all of you for offering your insight,” Shamura said in return. “As I mentioned, today we welcome Hestia into my inner circle as my Emissary, and I hope you all will treat her with the same respect you give to one another.”

“I look forward to working with you all.” Verdandi said.

“Same here!” Victoria replied.

“I am interested in seeing how well you perform,” Hawthorn said respectfully. “Not everyone is suited to life in Silk Cradle.”

“Good to have you.” Hunter said.

“I can’t wait to get to know you,” Ursalina said. “Your uniform is so mysterious.”

Verdandi chuckled.

Shamura cleared their throat to grab everyone’s attention. “Is there anything that needs to be brought to my attention?”

No one said anything.

“Very well, I have more request for each of you, regarding the mandatory weapons training,” Shamura stated. “All of you are included in this mandate. Silk Cradle must present a strong, united front, and to that end I want all of you to familiarize yourself with a weapon and earn the certification to use it.”

They gestured towards Hunter. “Captain Hunter, along with retaking the test for your own certification, I would like you to assist the others with this task instead your normal duties.”

Hunter put a hand to his chin in thought. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“And I believe that is everything for today,” Shamura said and rose from their seat. “I thank you all for your time and insight. You may have the rest of the afternoon to yourselves.”

Verdandi bowed her head along with the others as the bishop departed in a portal.

Victoria grinned once they had left. “So, we have the afternoon off, how about we give our new friend a proper welcome?”

“And what did you have in mind?” Hawthorn asked, curious.

“Well, what better way to get to know a new friend than by sharing a meal and some pleasant conversation?” Victoria replied. “I think between all of us, we could scrounge up something good.”

Everyone stood and followed the mouse as she led the way. Verdandi fell in step beside the mouse as she continued. “There’s a few old offices near here that are unused, we can borrow one for the afternoon.”

“I love this idea!” Ursalina said. “My mother sent me a care package and I’ve been worried about letting some of it go to waste.”

Victoria looked ecstatic and nudged Verdandi. “You’llloveMama Bear’s cooking, and my cousins sent me some cookies that I was going to share anyway.”

Hawthorn spoke up from behind Verdandi. “I don’t have anything fresh to offer, but I have quite the stock of canned and preserved foodstuffs I’ve been giving out to people if you all don’t mind.”

“Still have any jerky?” Hunter asked.

Hawthorn smirked. “I might.”

This was quickly shaping up to be an interesting afternoon. But if this was to be a welcome celebration, she wanted Basil to join in. The rabbit had quickly become a good friend over the short period of time she’d been working with him.

“May I bring a friend of mine?” she asked. “Jis name is Basil. He’s recently found employment at the academy as well, we crossed paths by pure chance.”

“He?” Ursalina teased. “Is he your—”

“No,”Verdandi said firmly. “He is ten years my junior and I’ve been teaching him between helping Lord Shamura.”

“Sorry,” Ursalina said half-heartedly. “…why are you guys so against romance anyway?”

“Aw, that’s so nice of you to help him out,” Victora said. “Of course he can join us!” “None of us are against romance,” Hunter said to Ursalina as the bear pouted. “You may have just hit a nerve unintentionally.”

Verdandi sighed. She had taken a simple joke too seriously. “My apologies...”

“Alright, there’s definitely a story behind that,” Victoria said and stopped outside one of the aforementioned offices. “Everyone, gather up some snacks, drinks, and your plus one, and I’ll meet you all back here.”

“Do you need someone to show you and Basil around?” Hawthorn asked.

“No, I know my way around quite well,” Verdandi waved her off. “I will see you all in a bit.”

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“So, you’re going by Hestia now?” Basil asked as he walked beside her. “Is that why you’re hiding your, well,everything?”

“Chimera such as myself are rare,” Verdanid replied. “And are somewhat significant to those who know the history of Silk Cradle. I did not want that attention drawn to me as I work.”

Basil looked thoughtful. “I guess if I was a god brought back from the dead, I’d want to not draw attention to myself too.”

She had to do a double take.“Excuse me?”

Basil shrugged. “You look exactly the same as the ancient portrait we got hanging over the family shrine at home, and Lord Shamura seems to trust you a heck of a lot for someone who hasn’t been here all that long.”

“You are surprisingly perceptive.” She noted.

“You have to be when people are going mad left, right, and centre,” Basil stated. “And I don’t really care who or what you are so long as you’re not planning to suck my brains out or fill me with eggs.”

“I will not be doing either of those things,” she said reassuringly. “Whenever you see me in this attire, I am Hestia the goat, alright?”

Basil gave her a mock salute. “Yes Ma’am!”

Both of them snickered.

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“I now declare it story time!” Victoria said once everyone had gathered and taken seats around the office. Both the desk and coffee table were laden with whatever food the group could bring. Verdandi was seated next to Hawthorn, the two sharing a couch, and picked at her bowl of dried meat.

Basil sat on the floor on her other side. Captain hunter loudly crunched on some animal bones in an armchair across from them and Ursalina sat next to Victoria, the two taking the desk chairs.

Verdandi had picked finger food that could be easily slipped under her mask, and was chewing a piece of jerky when Victoria turned her curious gaze to her.

“So, what happened you to be so touchy about relationships?”

Verdandi hadno ideahow to answer but held up a gloved hand to ask her audience to wait while she finished eating.

“Did you have your heart broken?” Ursalina asked sincerely.

“Um, no.” Verdandi finally answered, grateful that the mask hid her face from view.

“Why do we even need to know?” Basil asked.

“Because something clearly happened,” Victoria replied. “And I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“So, your goal is to have me enlighten you on my past so you may accommodate me?” Verdandi guessed.

“Exactly!” the mouse stated. “Teasing is only fun if everyone is fine with it.”

What should she say? What could she say? She chewed on another piece of jerky as she pondered the conversation and Ursalina’s earlier comment that started this topic.

Perhaps, she should tell the truth, with some details glossed over. Every lie held a grain fo truth, and the backstory she and Shamura had worked on was based on her own life and experiences. A few tweaks, a simple omittance of her life being an Odyssey of the gods, and she should hopefully sate her new friends curiosity.

“Well, there is some context you need to understand,” she said. “Forgive the preamble, but I do not want anything misconstrued here.”

“By all means,” Hawthorn said from beside her. “We will hear whatever you are comfortable sharing.”

The cat shot a look at the other two women in the room. “Isn’t that right, ladies?”

Ursalina and Victoria looked like chastised schoolgirls as they answered. “Yes Professor…”

Verdandi let out a huff of amusement and cleared her throat. “I am the youngest of three sisters that share the same father and different mothers. The eldest is Astraea, the second being Gaia,” she explained and used the epithets her sisters had shed so very long ago. “I do not have Astraea’s curiosity, not Gaia’s spontaneity.”

“I was creative, obedient, and found joy in music, cooking, and gardening,” she explained. “I never cared much for people outside of a trusted few, and no matter my attempts to befriend I was always seen as odd. Too different from my popular, beautiful sisters.”

“And people tried to court you as a joke.” Hawthorn stated and Verdandi picked up that the woman was speaking from experience.

She nodded, she noticed Hunter was listening intently, gnawing on another bone.

“At first, I was the strange girl with a temper of a roaring flame, then as I got older, people would tease me if I ever mentioned having a friend of the opposite sex, or just tease me in general,” Verdandi admitted. “No matter what I did, how nice I was, I was the odd one out of the three.”

She sighed, the pain of those memories had faded long ago, but the reminder left a bitter feeling in her heart. “Later in life, as Astraea found her lifelong partner, and Gaia began the first of many whirlwind romances…I was content to remain in our family home, tending to the hearth and helping my sisters through whatever drama and problems life threw at them,” As peaceful as simple those times had been, they had not lasted. “I simply never pined for, nor lusted after anyone, not even after I came of age. Though my sisters constantly tried to convince that one day I would.”

“But you had a husband before coming here, right?” Basil said with a playful glint in his eyes. “That’s what you told me.”

“Cheeky little bugger, aren’t you?” Verdandi scolded playfully. He stuck his tongue out at her. She huffed. “I’m getting to that.”

She took a moment to gather thoughts, the time she had met Shamura had been when she and her sisters had just gained their mantles as goddesses of time.

It was a time when the bishops The Old Faith and were crusading and spreading their teachings. Long,long before Narinder’s betrayal.

“I spent much of my youth travelling…I met my husband on the battlefield,” she said. She had been running from hervery-much-still-alivetyrant of a father at the time. “I was working with the army of a small kingdom, I made the soldiers food, and entertained them with music and stories. In exchange, I would be granted passage to move across the border after a month of service.”

It was closer to being kidnapped and forced to work for her freedom, but at least she was thankful she wasn’t nearly pretty enough to have been forced to service the men in other ways at the time.

“That does not sound legal in the slightest,” Hawthorn commented dryly. “But please, continue.”

And so she did, the sound of crunching bone faded into the background.

“My husband was on the opposing side, a powerful general. One night, the encampment was raided, and I was brought before them as a prisoner,” she explained. While Shamura was comfortable with masculine titles, it felt wrong to refer them with masculine pronouns, even if they weren’t in earshot. “I explained my situation, and they looked after me, kept me out of harm’s way while the battles raged on…We discovered we shared similar interests, and an accord was made between us.”

“Aw, saved by your knight in shining armour.” Ursalina cooed.

“I was a victim of circumstance, they were understanding of my position,” Verdandi explained. “Regardless, over time, we became friends, they took back to their home, and helped me find a job. We eventually married when they were pressured by their family to find a spouse. We had plans to move here together, but as you can see, it is just me.”

“That’s it?” Ursalina asked, as if something important was missing from her recounting of the tale.

“So did something happen to them?” Victoria asked. “Why aren’t they her with you?”

This was something she had discussed with Shamura, in the event she had to explain why she had appeared in Silk Cradle, and why she had been given such a high position within the sect so soon. “…My husband was a follower of The Old Faith and died defending me from heretics who were after the knowledge I possess.”

To spin the tale of her own death into a story to protect her identity was clever. It not only incorporated her ability to help Shamura’s state of mind, but also explain away much of the experience she had gained over her many lives.

“And so, the oddity I was perceived as, the circumstances that led to my eventual marriage, and the means by which I am here should be sufficient enough to explain why talk of romance regarding me specifically is not something I am comfortable with.” Verdandi stated.

“But…that was so clinical,” Ursalina exclaimed. “Where’s the passion, the joy? The love?”

“Beg pardon?” Verdandi replied. “Was I not clear?”

“Ok, you seem to be confused. Hear me out. if someone declared their love for you, wanted to marry you,just because, would you?” Ursalina asked. “Not for some sort of reason, or an obligation, none of that, just because they wanted to spend the rest of their life with you, would you?”

“…What do you mean by someone?” Verdandi found herself asking. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone I barely knew, no matter how much they claimed to love me.”

“Seriously? Not even if they were the hottest guy in the world?”

“…I wouldn’t fuck them either,” Verdandi said plainly.

Ursalina groaned in frustration. “Then what about Lord Shamura? What if they picked you as their consort?”

“W-what?” Verdnadi spluttered.

“Oh dear…” Victoria muttered.

“Are you still upset about the change in doctrines?” Hawthorn asked disapprovingly. “That is no reason to take it out on her.”

“Not my fault the new girl is broken,” Ursalina said with a shrug.

Verdandi visibly flinched, noticeable even in her large robe.Broken, defective, unable to perform a function she should be able to do. That others thought she would be one day able to do if she justtried.

It felt like an old wound upon her soul reopened.

Basil was too angry to even speak.

Hawthorn rounded on the bear, fury in her eyes. “Ursalina! How dare you!”

In the silence that followed, and Ursalina looking as if she’d been struck, Victoria spoke up, voice meek.

“We’re not broken…”

All eyes were on the mouse who looked to be on the verge of tears.

Ursalina was baffled. “But I didn’t say that about you…”

“You might as well have!” Victoria snapped. “Not all of us fall in love at the drop of a hat, or want to f-fuck Our Lord!”

“You take that back!” Ursalina growled back, her height letting her tower over the smaller woman as she stood.

The blade of a dagger was pressed against Ursalina’s throat. It was then Verdandi realised how quiet the room had been, and how silent the other member of their group had been.

Captain Hunter had snuck around behind them whilst everyone was distracted.

“Is this the hill you’re going to die on, girl?” The captain asked. Ursalina shook her head. Yet the dagger remained pressed to her throat as Hunter spoke. “You are going to come with me to an observation cell…and you won’t leave until you can understand the heresy that you just uttered to one of our own, have I made myself clear?”

“It was just a comment…” Ursalina muttered.

Hunter replied with a voice of authority. “Lord Shamura accepts all who follow The Old Faith. No matter who they love, or if they love at all, none are broken, and all are welcome.” He removed the dagger and quickly bound the bear’s hands behind her back with a pair of handcuffs. “You’d best think long and hard about what you just said and how that sort of thinking is not acceptable here.”

Hunter nudged the bear to walk, and herded her out of the room. A tense silence filled the air afterwards as Victoria dabbed her eys with a handkerchief, her tail wrapped around her legs.

Verdandi stood on shaky hooves, Basil rising to his feet to steady her. She wasn’t sure why the comment, from someone she had only just met no less, was affecting her as much as it was. But she felt vulnerable,guilty, like it Ursalina was perhaps right and there was something wrong with her after all.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Basil said and turned back to others. “it was nice meeting you all! Maybe next time we do this it’ll be more fun and less…bitchy.”

“I’m sorry about this,” Verdandi said to the group. “I didn’t mean to cause a fight…”

Hawthorn walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The cat looked concerned. “Don’t think too hard on what she said, and if you need anything, you can find my room just before the hallway to the clocktower behind the building. My door is always open.”

“I—Thank you.” Verdandi replied and allowed Basil to escort her out.

After a while, well out of earshot of anyone else, Basil spoke up.

“You should probably tell Lord Shamura about this...” he suggested.

“No.” she said immediately, not due to any vision or nudge of time. She rejected the idea out of fear for her own safety. “If attention is brought to it, Ursalina will be punished, and she could take it out on me…”

“You have a right to defend yourself, you know?” Basil replied. “And I’ll back you up!”

“I don’t want to cause trouble. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.” She said. “I just need to get over it and hope for the best…”

Basil made a noise in concern. “You don’t have to answer but…was this how you handled everything about, your uhmarriage?”

“Yes.” She said automatically. “I am not, nor ever was, in a position to do otherwise.”

“Yeah…you should tell Lord Shamura about this…” he pointed out. “Even if you can’t do anything, they could.”

“There are more important things to worry about.” She replied.

“Fine, fine, but if she tries anything like that again, I’m gonna punch her lights out…” Basil grumbled. “Just stay close to Lord Shamura for the time being, alright? I don’t think she’ll try anything if they’re around.”

Verdandi sighed in resignation. “Very well, if it means you will keep your silence about this incident.”

“Oh I will, can’t say the same for the others though.”

#time flowed backwards fanfic #cult of the lamb au

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charlesoberonn · 4 years

Text

“I’m not a fool, I’m a dreamer.”

This was my response whenever somebody doubted me or my expedition. “You’re not going to find anything.” they warned me. I didn’t listen to them. I knew where I was going, and what I was looking for.

On the morning of December 23rd our ship started sloshing against the Antarctic sea ice. This far south the difference between morning and night was starting to get blurry. Especially in this season. Still, it meant more light for us to navigate the cold and treacherous waters.

My sailors became anxious, as sailors are ought to be. The ship was starting to take hits on both starboard and port. And the cold water’s reduced buoyancy made it seem like any second the dark blue would swallow the entire vessel whole.

“Keep at it, men.” I told them. And to their credit, they did. We faced the shifting frozen maze for another day and a half, taking turns sleeping in the single room we could afford to keep warm.

Finally, after that entire ordeal, we made it. The sun was low in the sky, as low as it gets in this latitude and season. The ice cleared, the water warmed up, it was back to smooth sailing. We all shared a warm mug of beer we saved up for just this moment.

It took only a couple hours more until our destination was in sight. The gleaming white towers of the Antarctic Capital welcomed us before the citizens themselves did. The city’s symbol, an eagle and a penguin clasping wings, glowed in the low light.

And all around the towers the electric lights of celebration shone and blinked in a myriad of colors. “It’s Christmas, boys!” I announced. And my sailors cheered with me. We made it on time.

Our ship went into port smoothly, the locals helping us dock and climb onto the smooth grey pier. The local girls in particular were very interested in me and my fellow sailors. They giggled and danced for us in their thin robes of blue fabric. In the distance we could see the freezing tundra. But here in the city it was warm, even positively tropical.

An older woman approached me. From her golden robes I could tell she was important. She bowed a traditional Antarctic bow and I bowed in return. She just giggled, and I blushed, having apparently done something slightly untoward.

She smiled and gave me a blue ribbon. I went to accept it but she drew it back, and signaled me to extend my hand. I did as was told, and she gently tied the ribbon around my index finger. It was cold to the touch, but not unpleasant.

“She is waiting for you.” she told me. And I knew instantly who she was talking about you.

I thanked her and went on my way to the main tower. Around me the streets of the capital were green and red with trees and flowers and Christmas lights. The atmosphere all around me was festive. I looked back and saw my sailors were having fun as well, and had local ladies put ribbons on their fingers too. I smiled.

Before the tower, I stopped at a place selling Antarctic flowers. They were beautiful, and the flower merchant was even more beautiful than them. But even she didn’t match your beauty.

“How much?” I asked her. And she just turned her head and laughed. Her laughter reminded me of you.

She gestured me to extend my hand. I did as I was told, and she pulled out another blue ribbon and wrapped it around my pinkie. It was cold to the touch, but bearable. She then placed a single red flower in my hand.

“Thank you.” I said, and went on my way.

The doors at the base of the tower were huge. But luckily for me, as soon as I arrived, somebody came and opened them. The man seemed grim and dark in his disposition, completely opposite to the atmosphere around us.

“Cheer up, lad. It’s Christmas.” I told him. He just sighed and nodded to me.

“No, come on. I want you to smile.” I said. The man stared back at me, bewildered.

“She is waiting for you, sir.” he replied. And I frowned.

“Fine.” I said, and went inside, leaving the man to his grimness.

“Wait. Stop.” he said as I was already a few steps up the pristine marble stairs. “You’re right. It is Christmas.” he showed me a smile.

I smiled back at him.

“Here.” he said, showing me a blue ribbon. It was a bit rugged and old. “I got this one when I first came here. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I extended my hand to let the man wrap the old ribbon around my middle finger. His touch was rough and he tied it a little too tight, but I could handle it.

Only my ring finger was ribbonless now. I was almost proud.

I climbed the steps. There were more of them then I expected, and the climb was starting to wear on my body. My hand began to hurt around where the ribbons were, but I withstood it.

Every floor there was a window to the outside. And every floor I could see more of the shining festive city. I smiled. I ignored that every floor I could also see the frozen tundra just outside the city limits.

Finally, after a treacherous climb, I made it to the roof. The entire city was laid out before me. The glowing streets, the other towers, even the port where my sailors were still dancing and having fun with the locals. But I didn’t pay much heed to the view. Because you were there.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” I gave you the flower. You took it, and you smiled.

“Sit with me.” you said, and I did as you told me.

“The lights down there are beautiful.” I said. “Is this what you experienced every day while you waited for me?”

“It’s not the lights down there I care about. It’s the lights up here.” you said and leaned back against the railing as you looked up.

I looked up with you. The sun finally went down, and above us the only light was the cascade of flowing colors. Like a river piercing through the darkness.

“I used to think that maybe when you finally came for me, you’d be sailing up there. In the river of light.” you chuckled, and your laugh was just like I remembered it.

“That’s silly.” I said, and I looked down so I could see your face.

“All of this is silly.” you looked back at me.

“What do you mean?”

“You know it can’t be real, right?” you raised a curious eyebrow. I blushed. “This city.” you continued. “The tower. The lights. Me.”

I looked back up. The midnight sun returned. “Yes, of course.” I said.

“I’m not a fool. I’m a dreamer.” I said. You kissed my cheek. Your lips were cold to the touch.

“Give me your hand. You still have a finger left.”

“Already? But I just got here.”

Still, I did as I was told. You pulled out another blue ribbon and wrapped it around my ring finger. It was so cold. I couldn’t feel a thing.

“Thank you.” I said, and I looked back up at the sky one last time before closing my eyes.

#charles writes #writing #long post

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anjanettexcordonia · 4 years

Text

Secrets

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir A/U

Rating/Triggers: Mature (18+); domestic violence

Pairings: Drake x MC, Liam x MC (kinda)

Word count: 1254 (+/-)

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors.

A/N: I have been on a hiatus due to personal circumstances (Dumpster Fire 2021 comin at ya) but this is hopefully my comeback! Thanks for sticking with me!

Disclaimer: Some characters & some scenes belong to Pixelberry. I have been working on this on and off since November 2020. Hope ya enjoy.

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know.

HUGE SHOUT OUT TO @txemrn (without her I would have never finished) & @jessiembruno for pre-reading (even if you don’t remember)

Chapter 1

Liam sat alone at a small circular table with high backed cushioned stools in a pizzeria in New York City. He couldn’t ever visit New York without having an authentic slice of New York style pizza. He sat staring out the large picture window at the snow falling steadily. A large greasy slice of in front of him. He was consumed in his own feelings of loneliness and isolation when the silhouette of a figure caught his attention standing on the sidewalk. He squinted his eyes to try to get a better view through the falling snow. Liam watched as a petite raven haired woman with a white pea coat wrapped tightly around her attempted to hail a cab in front of the shop. A cab flew by her and spewed snow at her causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk beneath her. Liam jumped from his table and ran out the front door of the restaurant to help her.

“Miss, are you okay?” Liam asked as he held out his hand to the beautiful dark haired woman.

“Oh... uh... I’m fine. Thank you, uh, thank you for your help sir.”

The woman replied brushing her long blue black tendrils from her face. She attempted to pull herself from the ground unsuccessfully without taking his hand. Liam hoisted her up by her elbow anyway.

“I’m Liam.” His bright blue eyes shown through the moonlight drawing Alexa into them.

Alexa took a step back avoiding eye contact. “Liam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Liam nodded his head with a warm smile. A megawatt smile that would make any girl's heart skip a beat. Alexa’s breath hitched at the crooked smile he gave her.

“Goodbye then.” Alexa turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

Liam was intrigued by the woman. He felt a strange tingle down his spine when his eyes met hers. Those eyes. He had never seen anything like them. One eye a golden honey, the other ice blue with flecks of grey. He hoped to see her again; but, in this bustling city with the population of almost half of his small Mediterranean country, what were the chances of that?

Liam stood in silence, staring up at the Statue of Liberty. She was a beacon of freedom he could never fully grasp. At home, he was Heir Apparent to the throne of an absolute monarchy; his citizens kissed his feet in belief his bloodline was touched by God, like most kings of the past. Unlike in his country, the United States of America, where every citizen was free to choose. Free to elect their leaders. Free to not feel the pressures of leading a country from birth. He hoped to be a good king one day. He hoped to establish a balance of power within his country without undermining its traditions. He hoped to lead his country to a constitutional monarchy, not absolute. He envied this country that was built on freedom. Who would he have been born here? Who would he be without the crown? He thought back to his childhood friend, the only American he really knew. He had met American diplomats, sure, but never knew much about them. Those mismatched eyes flash in his mind. The shiny dark curls that framed those beautiful eyes hidden deep in his mind.

“Sir?”

A voice startled Liam breaking his thoughts and snapping him back to reality.

“Bastien?”

Liam’s head of security had slinked from the shadows.

“We found him, sir. I’ve contacted his secretary. Dinner is scheduled for tomorrow night.” The guard spoke in a stern yet soft voice.

“Thank you, Bastien.” Liam’s thoughts returned to his former friend.

Drake Walker was his best friend. They grew up together until Drake went off to college in America. Drake's mother was an American and his father was Cordonian. His father was a top military general in the King’s Guard. Jackson Walker, Drake’s father, was killed in the line of duty and his mother and sister went back to America after his tragic loss. They had promised to stay in touch after Drake left. Time ticked by and communication had dwindled. It had been five years since they had last spoken. Last Liam knew, Drake was still in New York. He had become a big shot real estate developer living on the Upper East Side. Bastien had tried to contact Drake after an assassination attempt on Liam’s life, but Drake never returned the call.

Across town, Alexa was feeling anxious after her encounter with the kind stranger, Liam. If she had been seen conversing with a handsome man or any man for that matter her husband would not be happy, especially as handsome as he was. His smile and bright eyes flashed through her mind. She was rushing to get home before her husband. He wouldn’t be happy if she were late. Punctuality was very important to him, but only when it came to her.

Alexa made it home just in the nick of time. She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t home yet. She was hoping he would be late. Alexa winced, peeling her coat from her limbs. She hung her coat on the coat rack. She threw her snow covered boots in the hall closet. She felt a stinging pain in her back when she bent down. She lifted her shirt in the hallway mirror and saw a bright purple bruise from her fall forming. Fuck, he will have questions if he sees this..

“Alexa, where are you?”

She heard the front door open and keys being tossed furiously on the entry table.

“Hello, dear,” Alexa rounded the hallway to the living room. “Um, how--how was your day?” she stutters.

“It was fine,” he answered coldly, his gaze glued to his phone. “I received a strange phone call on my way home.”

“Oh?” Alexa felt her heart begin to race. Surely no one saw me. “From who?”

He scoffs. “An old friend from childhood would like to have dinner tomorrow night. 6pm sharp. Nobu.” He kicks off his shoes as he feverishly texts on his cell. “You will meet me there. Do not dress too provocatively. And try not to embarrass me this time.” She could sense the aggravation in her husband’s voice. “I’m going to change and go out. Don’t wait up.”

Alexa stared at her feet as she nodded her head complacently.

The next evening, Alexa stared at herself in the mirror in a black chiffon dress with plunging neckline and strappy Christian Louboutins. Her long dark hair flowed in loose curls down her back. She was already dreading this dinner. She knew her husband would find something she did to humiliate him;she would regret it later. She arrived promptly at the upscale restaurant. Her husband was waiting with the maitre’d for her. He forced a smile.

“Alexa,” he placed his hand on her lower back. Her skin crawled at the feel of his hand “Do not embarrass me,” he whispered as he guided her to the private table.

“Drake,” the man at the table said warmly.

“Rhys, so good to see you,” Drake said in a tone Alexa didn’t recognize. His tone was calm and smooth.

“And who’s this?” The warm baritone voice of her husband’s childhood friend asked.

“This is my wife Alexa Walker. Lex, this is Liam.”

Alexa’s head immediately snapped up at the name. Liam immediately recognized her unique eyes, an instant connection flowed through the room, almost tangible.

Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1.800.799.SAFE

#theroyalromance #fanfiction #liam

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for7 · 4 years

Text

the christmas spirit | jimin

synopsis. christmas... did you ever wonder where it came from?

☁︎ imagine park jimin having an uncanny experience on christmas years ago, with a little girl that looks just like his girlfriend...

pairing. jimin x reader genre. fantasy au + fluff word count. 3,5k

ah, christmas.

a celebration for millions of families from all over the world, during a particular day. a celebration filled with laughter, presents, love. who in this world didn’t know about christmas, its customs and magic? the answer was not astounding: no one. everyone knew christmas and knew what it represented, both religiously and culturally.

christmas was, for many, an important event. this simple date on the calendar triggered a frenzy in everyone, a frenzy that would always start months before the date. whether it was the decoration shops, the chocolatiers, the gardeners, they were all too busy to enjoy this period. a period that rhymed with joy but, above all, with benefit.

sell. sell. sell. christmas was all about it. the shopkeepers had only this word rolling from their tongues, they, who painted their shop fronts red and green, decorating them with poorly drawn snowflakes and glittering garlands that made the most innocent eyes dream.

all citizens throughout the world were overwhelmed, but no one was as occupied as a certain city.

christunix was a city so small and remote from all that it was not on any atlas, planisphere, nor globe. few really knew where it was and what it contained. the wanderers, black-hearted, could only see from the town the multicoloured lights filtered through a thick fog that seemed to come to life if you tried to cross it.

although almost unknown to all, kept intact by this magical gate, those lucky enough to know about it were very real. they were rare and were the men and women who had kept their child’s eyes despite their passage into the adult world. they were the ones who still managed to marvel at the little things that illuminated everyday life, in their routine coloured with a monotonous grey. they were the ones who had once stumbled upon an old grimoire called “the christmas story”.

if one day you ever had this work of inestimable value in your hands, through these yellowed and worn out pages, you would discover in golden inked words that the christmas tradition was born at the heart of this mysterious village as well as the white-bearded man that would become its allegory.

the first man, who would be called differently by children all over the world, had initially only been a toy manufacturer called klaus. of this man, the inhabitants of christunix did not know many things, all too young to have known him. only his faithful companion, an immortal but old elf — with a name far too long — could boast of having rubbed shoulders with him.

every sunday, he would gather the village’s children in his cottage and tell them stories of yesteryear about his companion. the first distribution of gifts, described as catastrophic, was one of the best known and adored tales for the children. this had happened several centuries before but, for the elf, it had happened a day before. just yesterday, he was helping his friend make toys, just yesterday he was riding in a flying sled to distribute billions of gifts to kind children from around the world.

ah… those days were as close as they were far away.

no one, not even the grimoire, knew how klaus had died. all the rumours, each crazier than the other, circulated in the village. some spoke of a sled accident, others of natural death. however, many thought it was the winter spirit that had enveloped him when his time had come, making him disappear from the face of the earth in a cloud of snow, leaving behind his workshop, his elves, and his knowledge.

a natural knowledge which mother nature had blessed him with, and the descendants of his lineage. an innate talent, the capacity to make from a simple piece of wood a functional toy able to let children’s eyes shine. scientists would talk about a hereditary gene; the inhabitants of the village would talk about a gift.

only the sons of the klaus clan could bear this blessing. for centuries, this was how the family worked. the siblings’ first son, the presumed heir, was to take part in a ceremony on the winter solstice day of his first year on earth. when the moon was at its highest point in the starry sky, empty of all visual pollution, and the snow fell in hundreds of flakes, the one charged with reigning over the world of christmas would place the heir on a sliced tree trunk. it was said that klaus himself had used the wood of this tree to make his first toy.

if the heir were to be a bearer of the gift, then, according to tradition, a white and red aurora borealis would appear in the sky, white dust would surround the newborn’s body as a sign of eternal protection from the winter spirit.

this rare event had only happened five times, and it was long hoped that the new heir would be the sixth. snomi was not the eldest of his family but he was the only boy, making him the worthy heir of the gift. all the inhabitants of the village had hoped for his birth, a blessing. without a boy, what would become of christmas?

when it was finally announced throughout the village that a boy had been born, the inhabitants had celebrated this news for a whole week.

you see, klaus’ fifth descendant had been unlucky about his offspring, some even spoke of a curse. five children, four daughters. the last one, the boy, was thus perceived as a miracle.

for the next three hundred and sixty-five days, all covered him with presents, endowed him as if he was their own child. the inhabitants of christunix were traditional people, attached to legends and customs. knowing that this child would one day be the one who would manage christmas triggered in them a sense of pride and need to protect him.

when the winter solstice finally arrived, the entire village climbed the blue mountain to reach the highest point of their land. all piled up around the sawn tree trunk. in the centre of this elated crowd, the child’s parents, both dressed in their traditional white and red coats, stood proudly. next to them, the old elf was alternating his gaze between the position of the moon and his gold-bed watch, old of a few centuries.

“one more minute.”

the mother transferred the sleeping baby into the arms of her father, who advanced towards the tree trunk, snow screeching under each of his steps. he laid him on the wood, caressing with his huge thumb the delicate skin of his cheek. a tear of pride slipped down his cheek and landed in his beard, but no one noticed; all had their eyes turned on the sky.

“let the ceremony of the heir begin.”

the moment the old elf’s voice sounded, the moonlight aligned with the tree trunk, thus illuminating the baby’s face with a sky-blue hue. all the inhabitants began singing in an ancient language, a mixture of scandinavian and latin. with their words, they were invoking the winter spirit and the wandering soul of klaus, the only beings capable of awakening the gift sleeping within the heir’s heart.

when the last words of the traditional song rang out, the inhabitants waited for the aurora borealis to appear.

but it never came.

whispers rose in the ranks, cries echoed. what was going on? had the ceremony been performed correctly? was it a calendar error? a lot of questions demanding answers were shouted at the parents who remained frozen, disabused. a strong breeze rose in the air, running through everyone’s shivering bodies, making the baby cried.

the child did not possess the gift.

meanwhile, far away from all the chaos, in the easternmost house of the village, the screams echoed.

“put that down, sunmi! you’re going to f—” a thud, followed by crying. “fall… well… oh my god! y/n, leave that elf alone!” the oldest of the four daughters, iclyn, shouted.

hearing her first name, the youngest of the girls wobbled towards her father’s workshop while giggling. her immaculate white hair, button nose and always pink cheekbones gave her the appearance of a little angel. however, as many have said, appearances can sometimes be misleading. y/n, especially because of her age of no more than five years, was the most agitated of the fifth heir’s daughters. while the twins iclyn and lumi exuded the wisdom that came with being a descendant of klaus, the youngest perfectly symbolised the malice and carelessness of children.

still laughing, her eyes sparkling, the child entered her father’s huge workshop. toys filled gigantic shelves and the noise seemed to be a constant element in this real factory. the elves, though most of the time playful, were busy with their task.

making, painting and packing thousands of gifts was no mean feat.

“miss klaus, what are you doing here? you should be at the ceremony!”

juniper, one of her father’s closest elves, pulled her by the sleeve, wishing to bring her back to her house. this was without considering the stubbornness of the girl who planted her feet on the ground, making it difficult for the elf and his little arms to drag her back.

“don’t want to! it boring! not even cookies… cold…” she murmured, arms folded, a pout on her lips. “i want to see toys!”

“miss klaus, come back here!”

ignoring the elf’s words, the girl began to saunter in the wide aisles of the workshop. it was her favourite place in the village. to know that her father was organising all this was very impressive, especially for a four-year-old. her sparkling gaze observed the actions of the elves. she laughed when she saw one tangled in the gift paper. sometimes tiny ‘wow’ would escape her mouth at the sight of toys, all more beautiful than the other.

however, it was a very special object that caught her attention, awakening her childish curiosity.

a snowball, depicting a fireplace decorated with christmas stockings, was delicately placed on the desk where her father would imagine and design new toys. looking around her once, then twice, to see if no one was watching her, she walked silently towards the workbench too big for her. her wrinkled eyes, a sign of her intense thinking session, opened wide while a blissful smile was painted on her face.

she had an idea.

the child grabbed cardboard boxes, which would later be used to pack bicycles, and stacked them to create an almost-staircase. with difficulty—her little arms did not contain much strength—she hoisted herself to the top, nearly falling several times. when she was finally standing on the workbench, y/n took the snowball in her little pudgy hands.

“wow…”

she hadn’t even shaken it, but snowflakes were already falling on the chimney. on closer inspection, she saw that it was lighted. putting it down at its original location, the child’s curious pupils swept the office with her eyes. she realised that on it was placed a gigantic map of the world. in her head, the names of the cities she already knew jostled.

her father, and her grandfather before him, kept telling exciting stories about all the cities they would visit on december 25th. these tales would change over the years, and the cities were never twice the same.

rubbing her skull with her fist, the little girl tried to remember the name of a city her grandfather would always talk about.

se…

sea…

“seoul!”

the moment the name of the city was pronounced, the snowball began to turn on its own. faster and faster, until the chimney was gone, giving way to a blurry image. the doors of the workshop opened in a big crash, slamming against the walls. a thick cloud of snow dust entered the room, long and lively as a snake, and flew around the workbench as if it was looking for someone. all the elves who had turned to the entrance at the noise tried to close the doors, but nothing helped. many were already starting to agitate, to hide under the tables, terrified. however, the girl kept her gaze fixed on the snowball, which seemed to be illuminated in a red so gleaming that she had to close her eyes, dazzled.

the last thing she felt was something enveloping her, like a huge cold but comforting cloak.

it had now been an hour since the little boy’s parents had come to wish him a good night, but sleep did not seem to want to weigh down the young park jimin’s eyelids. no matter how many times he changed positions, morpheus didn’t want him in his arms.

and for good reason: jimin was excited. christmas was now only a few days away and he had already planned his ploy. you see, it was now two years ago, when he was three years old, that the boy had made his decision.

he would catch santa claus.

boys in his class kept saying that santa claus didn’t exist. he didn’t believe them nor the nonsense they were saying. he knew, santa claus existed. every year, on the night of the 24th to the 25th, he would try to stay awake so he could see santa claus and his hood. and he had seen him! he was sure of it! the boy had even seen the great gentleman eat the cookies and drink the glass of milk he had carefully prepared.

last year, though, he had not been fast enough; while the boy had just come down the last step of the stairs, ready to make his presence known, the bearded man had already disappeared in the chimney.

sighing at this memory, jimin rose from his bed, his brown hair dishevelled. fumbling his way along not to wake his parents and little sister, he went down the stairs to get himself something to drink. maybe it would help him sleep? he’d once seen his mom do that.

as he passed through the living room to reach the desired place, a strange vision made him rub his eyes with his fists to make sure what he saw was real.

a little girl who had just appeared in the hearth of his chimney looked at him with eyes as wide as his own.

“who are you?” he asked.

she was dressed strangely. on her snow-white hair, a red bobble hat had been laid without much attention, causing it to fall before her sparkling eyes. her clothes were similar to those that jimin had seen the elves wear in the christmas movies that were on tv. the only difference was that she was not dressed in green but in red.

the stranger blinked several times before shaking her head from right to left. she didn’t understand him.

great.

as he was about to mime his question again, the little girl’s attention turned away from him and settled on the christmas tree, lit in red and gold. moving gently towards it, she touched with her little fingers the decorations that seemed to sparkle to her touch. a childish laugh, which brought snowflakes to appear in the sky, resounded in the room as she pointed to a little santa claus in felt.

“pappa!”

“no, it’s santa claus!” jimin corrected her, unhappy to know that his hero was not known to the young woman.

“min pappa!”

“hey, no! don’t touch that!” he ran towards her and grabbed her arm to remove her as quickly as possible from a drawing she was about to touch. he had put it at the foot of the tree a few days ago.

on the sheet of paper was clumsily drawn a race car that jimin had forgotten to write on his letter to santa claus. He hoped that the old red man could create him one after seeing it. this race car was the gift that mattered the most to jimin, it was out of the question that he let this weird girl approach it.

“se på!” the girl said, pointing to the windows that had just opened. following her gaze, jimin gasped, his eyes now amazed.

a glittering, almost transparent hand made of snow had just appeared in the parks’ lounge. tt wandered around in the air for a few moments, stopping to tickle the girl’s chin with two fingers. the latter, after laughing, cheeks now red with happiness, showed to this magical apparition the drawing of the car. for a few moments, the girl and the hand had a silent conversation that ended with a bright smile from the child.

jimin, who had remained motionless until then, startled when the hand advanced towards him.

“miss Klaus! you’re in a fix, i can tell you! why did you run away like that?! and in korea into the bargain!”

a small man with sky blue skin and pointed ears appeared in turn in the chimney. jimin had no time to understand what was going on that the newcomer was already grabbing the girl’s arm and pulling her to the chimney where they both disappeared in a cloud of red and white glitter.

the hand, which had hidden as if it did not want to be seen by the elf, flew again towards jimin, who, terrified, began to tremble. they remained silent for a long time, before it magically disappeared, leaving behind snowflakes and a race car.

the little boy fainted.

the peaceful atmosphere in the living room had a soporific effect on the couple lying on the couch. the christmas film—full of clichés—that was displayed on the tv screen had long been forgotten, as were the two cups of hot chocolate that no longer gave off smoke. a few snowflakes fell on seoul but seeing them, all the inhabitants knew they would not be there the next day. they didn’t mind, even just seeing snow made them happy. it would always wrap the city with its delicate white coat no matter for how many hours, painting the landscape with the christmas spirit.

jimin struggled against sleep that seemed to approach him a little more with each caress in his hair. he was slumped against his girlfriend’s chest, enjoying this moment of serenity which was discordant from their exalted daily lives. the words they were saying were whispered so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded them.

“y/n?” a ‘yes, honey?’ was heard in response, urging him to continue while the caresses on his skull became softer. “did i ever tell you that you reminded me of someone i met as a kid?”

“oh, is that right?” the woman asked, her voice muffled by Jimin’s hair in which she had buried her face.

“yes. i think I was five or six at the time… or something like that. i was young enough to believe in santa claus, basically. anyway, one night i went to get a glass of water in the kitchen. i was so tired that i had a hallucination. it was as if i had seen a girl appear in my chimney and she had summoned this weird and magical hand that made me a car. weird, isn’t it? she had white hair just like you, though.”

“hmm…”

“maybe it was a prophetic dream, i knew you were going to be the love of my life.” he laughed at his girlfriend’s cringe expression. “i love you.”

slowly, she gave him a kiss on his cheek, saying these three little words back. her caresses continued until the man’s eyes closed. smiling, she grazed jimin’s cheek with her thumb, translating in this little gesture all the affection she had for him.

her eyes swept away the apartment they shared. on the walls and shelves were scattered memories, photos; all these things traced their history, which had been going on for a year now. in the entrance, on the small table where there was a bowl with keys, behind the pile of mail waiting to be read, was placed a snow globe representing a fireplace decorated with Christmas stockings.

suddenly, the windows of the living room opened, and even though the noise startled her, it did not disrupt jimin’s sleep who was now using her chest as a pillow. a trail of snow dust appeared in the living room, twirling for a few moments around the couple before it put a letter in the woman’s hand. she hurried to open it, reading its content, written in familiar handwriting.

miss y/n klaus,

how are you? personally, i can’t even sleep as your father keeps telling me how much he misses you. everyone here does. seeing each other a month per year is too little according to the villagers.

i know your life in seoul takes up a lot of your free time. however, according to christunix’s council, it was considered judicious for you to return to the village during the week. all you have to do is take your snowball, i won’t be wrong to assume you know how to use it.

without you, it’s a bit of a mess. even if the elves work hard and your drawings are precise, it’s always better when you’re on the field to check in real-time the work that has been done. your father has, as usual, high expectations even if he is no longer in the position. he keeps complaining. you must return as soon as possible or, i assure you, the old elf will get rid of him before you can say ‘christmas’.

after all, what would christunix be without the sixth heir?

p.s. your mother and siblings keep tormenting me for you to introduce them to that boy you talk about in your letters. if you feel like it, bring him back with you. maybe it’s time he finds out what his fiancée’s job is.

kind regards,

juniper.

#jimin fluff #park jimin #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts au #jimin x y/n #jimin x reader #jimin imagine #jimin fanfic #bts fantasy au #park jimin fanfic #park jimin fluff #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #bts #bts christmas #jimin christmas

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secret-engima · 4 years

Text

Snippet from Blood of My Blood verse

(Tagging @a-world-in-grey for this because Noctis is interacting primarily with her Council/Council successor OCs in this scene and I want to see if I’ve done them okay.)

...

Noctis could feel people watching him with varying levels of discretion as the first course was brought out. Some of them did an admirable job of masking it behind conversation with the person seated next to them, while others —like Aedes Memini, the future Lord of Education a few seats to Noctis’s right— stared at him without even trying to hide it. The first course was brought out, something very light and small, which was good, because Noctis’s stomach wasn’t up to eating full, heavy portions yet and he was going to have to survive the traditional six course meal without getting sick or obviously ignoring his food. The soup was light and mild, and Noctis was grateful that his father had clearly taken his needs into account when having the chefs plan the dinner.

Everyone took the requisite number of spoonfuls to prove they were “eating” and then the conversation started up again. Mostly about politics, or current affairs in the high social circles, or congratulations on Noctis’s eighteenth birthday —even though technically that was tomorrow and not tonight—, “We are all very relieved over your safe return.” Lord Veteris —Lord of Foreign Affairs on his father’s council, a cautious man but not unwise— said, “We feared at one point that you would never be found.”

“It was a long road home,” Noctis replied neutrally, “but I am glad to be back.”

Lady Operis, the future successor to the seat of Lord of Health, interrupted with all the characteristic tactlessness of her family, “How has your health been since your return? You are recovering well?”

Ignis smoothly inserted himself into the conversation with a prim, “The Citadel doctors are the finest of the country, and they have deemed His Highness to be in fine health.” Lady Operis and her father, the current Lord of Health, both looked unsatisfied with the vague answer. They were both very dedicated to the medical field and he didn’t doubt that they, like everyone else, wanted to know the details of his health and recovery —if for far more sincere reasons than most—. But they could hardly press further without casting doubts on the doctors Lord Operis himself had approved for the Citadel, so for the moment they let it slide. Noctis didn’t bother to add any comments. No one here needed to know that the while doctors had declared his health to be “vastly improved” that hardly made him “fine”. He was still struggling to get back all his lost weight, he had far more scars than they would like, and Ignis was making it a personal crusade to slowly work Noctis’s appetite back up to full meals.

And none of that was touching on his mental health.

Aedes Memini leaned forward slightly to see around Noctis’s Retinue, “It must have been so difficult for you out there. All the monsters and daemons. How did you make it to the outpost Marshal Leonis found you in?”

Cor stiffened faintly, but Noctis just took another slow sip of his soup and said, “There was a lot of walking involved.”

“The citizens of Lucis refused to help you?” The question came from Lord Egestas of Finance, a very faint frown on his face that Noctis thought came more from the thought of someone of Noctis’s status being “denied” aid by those of a lesser class than out of concern —Noctis did not have a good view of Lord Egestas and he knew it, he had been … not friends, but well-acquainted with his daughter Copia and she had opinions on her father—.

Noctis chose to take a sip of his drink rather than risk filling up too much on soup, “They were very helpful when I asked for it. But hitchhiking will only get you so far.”

There was a ripple across the table, a faltering in the conversations that others were pretending to have as they all registered their Crown Prince admitting to hitchhiking. Noctis wanted to laugh at their hidden surprise and disdain, like accepting a ride from a stranger passing by was somehow demeaning. Dangerous, yeah sometimes, but demeaning? Hardly. Everyone fell on hard times at some point out there and most people were understanding of it. Instead of laughing, he nudged the topic of his own health and circumstances aside for the moment by addressing Lady Aequum, the Lord of Justice, “I have heard that there is a new case being brought before the high courts that has caught your personal attention. Markos versus Elpenor?”

Lady Aequum nodded, brisk and emphatic, and was more than happy to discuss some of the details. Not many, since talking about criminal cases was not generally considered “polite conversation”, but the woman had more than earned her title over the years with her passion for seeing justice done and it showed. Topic drifted again, thankfully steering away from him as the second course came and went.

They were on the third course when the topic finally came back to something Noctis personally cared about, “Prompto Argentum, wasn’t it?” Speravi Veteris asked with a faint flick of her elaborate braids, “I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the name Argentum. Is your father a … viscount?”

Prompto grinned at her and while on the surface it was another one of his sunshine smiles, Noctis could tell it was actually all teeth, “Oh no, my family aren’t nobility. I live in one of the middle class residential districts.”

Several nearby conversations stopped and Noctis felt his magic start to bristle at the brief look of disdain that crossed Lord Egestas’s face. His daughter, Copia, seemed to catch the look too, because she immediately leaned forward with a too-sharp smile, “Truly? How interesting. This must all seem rather extravagant to you then.”

Prompto’s actually seemed to perk up at addressing Copia, something old-remembering-grudgingly-fond flickering in his eyes and Noctis wondered if Copia had survived at least part of the Long Night and gotten to know Prompto, “A little bit, yeah. Mostly just the cutlery through, Ignis has been teaching me all about events like this, but I’m still not sold on the necessity of six forks just for one meal.”

Several of the younger members at the table smothered laughter, and Noctis saw Cor hide a smile behind his wine glass. Aedes spoke up again, “How did you meet His Highness?”

Prompto shrugged, easy and seemingly totally relaxed, “I got lost while on a tour of the Citadel. I ran into Prince Noctis while I was trying to find my way back and we hit it off.”

“Just like that? And you went on to become the Heart of his Retinue?” Noctis suppressed a growl at the incredulity of the younger Lord Patriori.

Prompto kept his smile in place as the third course was finally taken away and the fourth brought out —only two more after this to go, Noctis could do this … maybe—, “Kinda!”

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Blood of my Blood (That Was Shed On the Throne) verse #Child of My Blood verse

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braincoins · 4 years

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for DA Shallura

I’ve been doing a series of posts about basic Dragon Age canon for my DA fic series, Dragon Age: Schism. HOWEVER, my Dragon Age AU for Shallura has slightly different background (it takes place before DA:O, and thus before any of DA:S) and I include headcanons and whatnot for DA:S in those info posts.

So I thought I’d make One post with all the info that @tybalt-tisk or anyone else could need to make sense of what’s going on in that fic specifically. Some of this will be copy-pasted from what I’ve already done for DA:S because c’mon why write it twice? But everything here should give the necessary bgd for that fic. If you want/need to ask me other questions, feel free!

With credit, as always, to @yslanam who started this by first suggesting a DA AU for Shallura. And if you make it to the end, there’s pretty Mitz art! (Or you could skip to it, I know, but... be good, hm?)

Our story takes place in the country of Ferelden on the continent Thedas. Ferelden is basically Fantasy England (though not an island and not shaped that way), and is about the same size and climate (though it’s south of the equator, not north of it).

Shiro was born Takashi Shirogane in a small village where everyone knew everyone else and he liked it there. Loved it there, really. He signed on to be in his bann’s (the noble who ruled the land and its village) army, as did another young man from his town (whose name Shiro rarely speaks now). They served honorably and well and fell in love.

And then they were called to battle. Shiro survived: plus a scar and some new white hair, but minus his right arm, which was too badly injured and had to be amputated. Shiro’s lover didn’t make it, though. Shiro was discharged with pay and a small bonus, but that money would run out eventually. He’s not sure what to do with himself, and he overhears people talking about what a shame it is, such a young man now destined to just wither away because, well, he’s basically worthless now. Can’t work a farm, can’t fight in wars. It hits him hard. He wants to prove himself worthy of... of something, anything, just to prove them wrong.

That’s what brings him to the Grey Wardens.

Allura is a city elf. Elves are second-class citizens - at best - amongst humans, and the city elves live in ghettos called “alienages.” Her father was the Elder of the Highever (a city in Ferelden) Alienage: the man in charge, basically. That didn’t mean Allura behaved though; even as a child, she would rant about how elves were people just like humans and they deserved better treatment. This didn’t win her a lot of friends; most city elves learn quick that yelling about the truth just draws a whole lot of unwelcome - and often armed - attention.

But then it was discovered that Allura had magic, and she was taken off to the Tower of the Circle of Magi to be trained... and supervised. If there’s anything worse than being an elf in Ferelden, it’s being a mage. Mages, if they aren’t careful, can basically be possessed by demons and then they kill a bunch of people and it’s a bad scene. Therefore most people fear mages, and the Chantry - the main religious organization on the continent and damn near the only one in Ferelden - has created Templars to watch over the mages of the Circle.

The Templars are also known as “mage-hunters” because that’s one of their main duties: running down mages who try to flee their gilded cage. They also kill any mage suspected of being demon-possessed. And they’re posted all throughout the Tower, watching... always watching...

Allura liked learning magic but hated that this is how it’s done. She’s just been moved from one cage to another, and she wasn’t silent about that either. Things came to a head after she became an official mage; she saw a Templar about to force himself on a fellow mage, who was terrified of the man. She got angry and killed the man, straight out. She should have been killed, made Tranquil (basically magical lobotomy) or sent to Aeonar, the mage prison, but Duncan, the Warden-Commander, was there visiting and recruited her away, instead.

That’s what brings her to the Grey Wardens.

And that’s where she meets Shiro.

So, really now, what is a Grey Warden? Well, that depends on who you ask. To most people outside the order, the Grey Wardens are a glorious order of noble heroes! And why is that? Well, they’re immune to the darkspawn taint (which usually kills people) and so they can safely slay darkspawn! They’re also the only ones who can stop Blights!! …though this last bit of information is often forgotten, given that Blights happen once every few centuries.

If you ask me, the Grey Wardens are the biggest dick move in Thedas, which is actually part of why I love them. Here’s all the downsides to joining this “glorious order”:

First of all, the Right of Conscription. Ferelden has it; not sure if other nations in Thedas do? Anyway, it means that Grey Wardens can recruit anyone at any time. In practice, they have to be careful how they wield this tool (especially in Ferelden), but the RoC has been used to save people from hangings or other deadly fates… on the condition that they become a Warden Recruit. So… didn’t want to be Warden Recruit? TOO BAD, YOU ARE NOW. And no, you don’t get a say in the RoC. (Allura was RoC’d, to keep the commander of the Templars from killing her.)

Second of all, there’s the Joining. It turns out that, in order to become a Grey Warden, you have to drink darkspawn blood. And a bunch of other stuff in there, but really now, DRINKING DARKSPAWN BLOOD. You might recognize this as a stupidly dangerous thing to do, given that darkspawn blood KILLS THINGS. But your options are drink it or die, because the Grey Wardens present at the Joining will kill you if you try to back out after learning about this. If you drink from the Joining chalice, you also might die, but your name will be remembered as a Grey Warden at least? Even though you’re dead. And hey, if you live, you… become “immune” to the darkspawn taint, which is to say you’re already fucking tainted so it’s not like it can get worse. Want to know why the Grey Wardens don’t tell people they’re gonna make them drink darkspawn blood? Well, if they did that, people wouldn’t want to join, and we need Grey Wardens.

Supposing you survive the Joining, there’s the shortened lifespan (10-30 years depending on your sources) and the nightmares (that maybe you can learn to tune out). Again, they don’t tell you this until afterwards. Why? Because then people might not want to become Grey Wardens… yadda yadda. (Shiro might not speak Adam’s name anymore but he sure does yell it some nights, jolting out of a night terror and back to reality.)

Oh, and forget about having kids! It’s very difficult if not impossible to have children as a Grey Warden! (Not like they let mages have kids in the Circle. And Shiro’d been in love with a man, so he was okay with not having biological children anyway.)

At some point, even if you were able to tune the nightmares out, they’ll come back and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. That’s the first sign of The Calling. Because it turns out that the Joining is really just turning you into a ghoul, except very, very slowly. You’re getting close to Ghoul-dom now. Most Grey Wardens choose to die in battle against the darkspawn rather than waiting to be turned. It’s tradition.

And if there’s a Blight going on? Oh, well, it turns out that the only way to kill an Archdemon is to sacrifice a Grey Warden. Why didn’t they tell you? DO YOU EVEN HAVE TO ASK NOW?!

The motto of the Grey Wardens is “In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.”

So what I’m saying is that Grey Wardens are SUPER TRAGIC BADASSES. They also wind up pretty cut off from their former lives, so the Wardens become their family. So, basically, SUPER TRAGIC BADASS FOUND FAMILY.

Shiro and Allura get close because it turns out they work well together as a fighting pair: he as a warrior, she as a mage. Even with only one arm, Shiro can at least protect Allura as she takes shit out. They’re quickly a unit, just the two of them, always sent out together. It’s no wonder it starts to blossom into love.

But Allura sees that Shiro wants to do more than just protect and shield bash, so she starts trying to figure out how to make him a prosthetic: one worthy of a Grey Warden. One... worthy of him.

There are different schools of magic: Creation is the healing branch, and it seems natural to try to work with that some, but in the end, Allura has to also dip into a forbidden school: Blood Magic. Blood Magic has the reputation of being evil because you’re using people’s blood - people’s life forces - to power your spells. After growing up in the Tower, she’s understandably nervous about using it.

But she talks about it with Shiro, and although he might otherwise be scared of Blood Magic, she tells him she doesn’t need a lot of it, it won’t kill him, and... well, it’s her. He trusts her. And she works hard to be worthy of that trust, she goes over this spell she’s created several times. It should work to attach the arm - made of silverite, a very powerful and durable metal - to him so he can use it.

She just forgot about the darkspawn taint coursing through him. His blood is not normal. And there are some... side effects from messing with it.

I do recommend reading this post (it’s kinda 1/2 meta, 1/2 fic) but if you don’t want to, the short version is that Shiro has trouble controlling his arm at first and so he pushes Allura away because he’s afraid of hurting her. She takes that as a well-deserved rebuke because she did this to him.

Eventually they scream it all out at each other: he loves her, he was afraid for her, she feels guilty and is so afraid he’ll leave her, etc. They settle down and start working together on figuring out how Shiro can better control this thing. At the beginning of this fic, he’s gotten the hang of it now.

I’ll put up pictures of their uniforms when I can, and other than that, you should be good to go! I know this was long, sorry. Here, have some pretty @mitzoco art:

#DA Shallura #Dragon Age 101 for Shallura fans

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crossiantgay · 4 years

Text

So I got really inspired right when I woke up, so low and behold, this happened.

Royalty AU

Ships: logince

Warnings: implied sex, (nothing graphic, very brief mention) cuts and wounds mentioned (again, nothing graphic) virgil swears once, almost death (tell me if there' anything else)

(------)

Roman put on his grey pants.

“And there’s another month of safety for my kingdom” He looked at Logan, who was laying on the bed. Logan stood up and nodded, also putting on his pants. “Indeed, my prince” He couldn’t help but smirk at how the prince stopped halfway through fixing his hair in the mirror and blushed.

“I a-am a king, thank you” Logan started walking towards him.

“Mm, some king that needs to solicit the safety of his kingdom each month.” Roman crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Logan stepped towards the king, so they were only inches apart. He tilted Roman’s chin up with a finger so he was looking Logan in the eyes. Logan smirked and admired how flushed the king’s cheeks were.

“Bratty bottom.” He leaned in closer and the king pushed him away.

“Hey, you know our rule, no kissing.” He said sternly. Logan stepped back and nodded, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Of course.”

Roman sighed and handed Logan his sword. Logan looked the king coldly in the eye, drawing a shallow gash across his chest. This was his least favorite part of their interaction, to be honest. Everything about it felt wrong. Was it really necessary to harm his lo-King Roman just so it looked like they got into a fight? Roman turned slightly and Logan drew a few cuts on his arms. Nothing deep enough to cause harm, just enough to look impressive. Roman winced as Logan drew another one from his shoulder blade. Logan wiped the tip of the sword on the bedsheets and handed Roman the sword. Roman slid on his shirt, grimacing as blood soaked through the shirt, staining it.

“Well, I best be going. Same time as always?” He put on his sash and slid his sword in his sheath. Logan nodded.

“Of course. Your presence was pleasant, as always.” Logan winked and Roman chuckled.

“You too” He slipped out the dark oak door and it shut with a resounding thud.

(-----)

Logan tapped his foot on the ground, impatiently. He kept glancing from the clock to the door. Roman was more than 3 hours late, an odd thing for Roman, who was never late. Logan sighed and slid his black cloak over his shoulders. He slipped a few potions into his satchel.

“Well guess the prince’s kingdom isn’t going to be safe anymore.” He mumbled under his breath, as he quickly made his way down the stairs. He saddled his night-black horse and began to race towards the kingdom.

(-----)

He pulled on the reins as his horse skidded to a stop. There was not a person in the kingdom’s usually bustling streets, and all of the lights in the kingdom were out. He rushed over to a guard in front of the castle, the only person he could see.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He exclaimed to the guard.

“The king is in the medbay. He was stabbed by a citizen yesterday and is in critical condition. It is tradition that all the lights be turned off-” Logan cut him off as his expression paled.

“He-he what?” The sorcerer looked the guard in the eyes and the guard nodded. “Until his final condition is known, all citizens are ordered to stay in their homes.” Logan shook his head and burst through the heavy oak doors and began racing through the castle, searching for the medbay.

“HEY-” The guard yelled, but sighed as she realized she wouldn’t be able to catch the mysterious man.

“Medbay, medbay….” Logan murmured to himself, reading the signs above the doors that told what room was which.

“Grand hall-no, library-no… here! Medbay!” He burst through the doors and felt his knees buckle as he saw the king. He looked frail and pale. His usual glorious king seemed like he would break if he was hit by a gust of wind. All the tubes coming out of his arms and such weren’t helping. Logan kneeled by Roman’s bedside.

“Hey, hey, Roman, it’s me,” He cupped Roman’s face with one hand.

“...mom?” Roman asked weakly.

“No, no, it’s me, Logan-” Logan felt himself breathing heavily as roman reached up his hand and held Logan's, bringing it down from his cheek.

“Mom, I missed you.” Roman’s breathing became laboured.

“No, no, roman, please-” Logan felt cold tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’ll be with you soon, mom.” Roman weakly smiled and Logan’s eyes widened.

“No, no, roman, no, please” Logan begged. “I’ll-I’ll never threaten your kingdom again, I-I’ll do anything you ask, please just stay with me. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t.” Logan started crying.

“I love you, mom.” Roman smiled up at the man and Logan’s heart broke.

“I love you too, Roman.” Roman’s hand went limp and Logan nearly screamed.

“ROMAN-ROMAN please! Please stay with me!” A nurse walked over to them. He checked Roman’s pulse and nodded.

“He’s not dead, he’s been slipping in and out of consciousness all day. You were lucky you got to talk to him.” Logan wiped his eyes and looked up to the nurse.

“Is he going to d-” Logan couldn’t get the rest of it out. The nurse gave him an uneasy look.

“We’re doing all we can.” Logan climbed into bed with Roman and held him, cuddling into Roman’s side and started crying.

“Roman, please I love you so much and I can’t lose you” He said through choked sobs. “I don’t know why it took me this long to realize it, but I love you so much. I wish there was something I could do to make you-” Logan’s eyes went wide. He was a sorcerer, goddamnit. He was never good at healing spells, but he was more than an accomplished sorcerer. He was sure he could figure out a healing spell. He ran out of the doors of the castle quickly, mounting his horse and racing towards his castle. He raced up the stairs of his watchtower and began flipping through the pages.

“Healing, healing healing, here!” He put his finger on a page. “Wound repair- perfect!” He read. He began reading off the ingredients, all of which he had. He gathered the ingredients he needed, reminding himself to get more thanor root.

(-----)

He kneeled by the prince’s bed and flipped him over. The nurse let out a noise of protest and he shot her a glare. He started by mixing the ingredients together, then pouring them along the edge of the wound. He pressed a hand and almost winced at how cold roman’s back was.

“Potion, work your magic

Fix his body and mind.

Let this story not be tragic

Restore what once was mine”

He sighed and felt his own strength be drained slightly, as what happened when he performed a spell. He watched in awe as the skin around Roman’s wound began to knit itself back together, quite literally magically. His eyes flew wide as Roman began gasping for air and rolled over.

“Wha-logan?” Logan smiled widely and kissed Roman. To his surprise, Roman wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck and kissed back.

“What is this all about, specs?”

“He thought you were dead and was crying. Then he did some voodoo stuff and your back is good now.” A grumpy nurse said flatly as he walked in. Roman laughed, a noise Logan didn’t realize he missed as much as he did.

“Thanks for the 411, virge.” Who he assumed to be Virgil gave him a salute and began cleaning the medbay.

“Really though?” He said, looking back at logan. “You-saved me?” Logan looked to the side, pushing his wavy black hair out of his face. “It’s not a big deal, reall-mph!” Roman cut him off with another kiss. Logan pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose as he felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

“I am hereby in your debt, Logan” Roman did what he could of a bow in a hospital bed and Logan chuckled.

“You broke your rule,” Logan pointed out.

“Well you broke it first and to hell with rules, I almost died!” Logan smiled at Roman. “And if everything Virgil said was true, then I’m guessing a certain someone has caught feelings” He smirked and pointed at Logan.

“Well I-um-”Logan sputtered. Roman laughed. “It’s ok, I love you too, Lo” Logan looked at Roman, shocked and Roman nodded. Roman offered out a hand.

“Who says to being more than enemies with benefits?” roman asked.

“Enemies with benef- ROMAN HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING OUR ENEMY?” Virgil called from the back

“Shh, Virge.” Roman cooed.

“Whatever you say, your majesty.” Virgil said with a smirk.

“I will accept your offer graciously, your majesty.” Logan said.

“Hey, now you’re my majesty, technically.” Logan smiled before kissing Roman again.

“Love you, my king.” Roman said and held his hand.

“I love you too, my prince.”

#logince #au #fanfic #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan

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claymorecut · 4 years

Text

FIRST DATES DON’T ALWAYS GO AS PLANNED

A/N: As requested by @gintoki-sakata, I’m back with another GinTsu fanfic. I’m sorry it took me so long and yeah. It’s pretty long too. I wasn't planning on making it this long but..I couldn't I'm so sorry >.< I hope you guys enjoy it!

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It all started with a “Would you like to go out with me?”

It was just another summer afternoon when Gintoki decided to go out for a small walk and happened to encounter Tsukuyo in Kabukicho. She told him that she had some business to attend and one conversation led to another and now, here they were, sitting on a park bench, asking her this question in his usual nonchalant voice.

Skeptical, Tsukuyo glanced at the man sitting beside him with narrowed eyes. “Where’s this comin’ from?”

Gintoki just shrugged casually at her question. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m thirty-four and still single?” He threw a nasty look at the couples making out in front of him. “Plus, everyone around me is either getting married or dating someone! Hell, even SHINPACHI IS DATING SOMEONE!”

Tsukuyo could clearly hear the frustration in his voice as he threw his arms in the air. “Plus, what’s wrong with these people!? Are they in heat or something?”

Her eyes turned towards the source of his irritation as she held back a snicker. The Savior of Yoshiwara was growing old and the young lovers surrounding him only made his blood boil. He sounded like a typical old man.

“So, that’s why yer askin’ me out?” She asked anyways.

Sighing, he turned to look at her. “Tsukuyo,” his voice was suddenly serious. “I’m thirty-four and I’ve no experience in dating. And I just thought perhaps…you know, I can try it out a little.”

“Then why not ask someone else?” she asked as a matter of fact.

“Because.” He paused, leaning a little close to her “Why not?”

Her heart accelerated a little at their close proximity. “And, I didn’t want to ask just any random woman out. Luckily, you’re not dating anyone….Right?”

Composing herself, Tsukuyo shifted back a little, gaining a little more distance between them. “No.” She replied honestly, her eyes now looking at the park instead of him.

“Alright.” He almost sighed in relief. “So, Tsukuyo. Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

His formal request didn’t sound like himself, somehow. But she agreed anyways. “Fine. I’ll go.”

It was Gintoki whose heart beat quickened a little. “Great. So where would you like to go?”

“Ya decide.” She said, standing up. “After all, yer the one who asked me out. See ya”

Her playful tone didn’t go unnoticed by him as he saw her leave the park. He slouched back on the bench, his eyes scanning the endless blue sky as he once again thought about her answer to his question.

Well, damn.

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The next day, Gintoki was sitting with his legs propped up on his desk as he flipped another page of Jump. Shinpachi was, like always, cleaning up the place with an apron tied around his waist and Kagura was sitting right beside Sadaharu as he hungrily chomped from his huge bowl.

It was just another day in the Sakata household until this question was shot in the air.

“Where do you take a girl out on a date?”

Shinpachi dropped the duster.

Sadaharu stopped chewing.

And Kagura’s eyes almost popped out of her sockets.

The abrupt silence in the room made Gintoki look up from his precious Jump. “Hey what hap- The hell are you all looking at!?” He yelled as he looked at their completely shocked face.

“What do you mean ‘a date’?” It was Shinpachi who spoke first.

“And who in their right mind is going out on a date with you!?” Kagura screamed dramatically. “What did you do, you perm head!?”

He knew it was a bad idea. But what could he do, he had no experience with these kind of things! And he thought maybe, just maybe, these kids could help this old man out a little.

Oh how wrong he was.

“Oi! Shut up!” He shot up from his seat.

“Then tell us who is it!?” Kagura yelled back, pitying the woman who said yes to him.

Gintoki gritted his teeth in irritation. Yes, he knew this was going to get awkward. He had lived with these kids for years and not once have he had any kind romantic involvement in his entire life. Back during the war, brothels were his thing. But dates? He never did dates. But here he was. Asking for some advice because he was a complete novice and he needed help. And if it meant throwing his pride and revealing the woman’s name, so be it! He was not a coward! “…..Tsukuyo.”

His voice was so low it made Shinpachi put a hand near his ear. “Eh? Who?”

God, he was gonna die! “I said Tsukuyo goddamnit! You got a problem with that!”

He knew he was red. Red and fuming and suddenly he wanted to become an ostrich.

“Tsuk-ki/Tsukuyo-san?” They said simultaneously, their mouths agape.

“Yeah. Tsukuyo. Now help me out here, will you?”

Both of them looked at the man standing in front of them. Then they looked at each other with horrified looks on their faces.

How!?

He got lucky when Tsukuyo agreed to go out with him. Alas, it was not the case this time.

And before he could speak again, he saw them rush towards the door. “OTOSE –SANNN!!!!!” That was the last thing he heard before the shoji door was slammed shut.

Now, the whole Kabukicho was gonna know he got a date with the infamous Courtesan of Death.

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It was late in the evening by the time Gintoki reached the festival. He was finally going out on a date. His usual white kimono and leather boots were now replaced with a black yukata with grey stripes and a pair of geta as he stood in front of the entry gate. After all the commotion and red face and “shut up’s!” two days ago, Otose finally suggested him to take Tsukuyo to the neighborhood festival. And so, he told Tsukuyo over the phone.

But that was not the end of the day. The kids decided to butt in.

“This is your very first time going out on a date.” Kagura pointed out.

They were sitting on the couch when they decided to have this conversation with him.

As much as he hated to admit it, he agreed with a sigh. “Yeah. So what?”

Now it was Shinpachi’s turn to interrogate him. “You have money, right?”

“Yeah, of course I have money! What do you guys take me for!?”

Kagura made a dramatic “HAW” as Shinpachi wiggled him brows playfully. “So, you were saving up for the date, huh?”

Damn Four-Eyes!

“Well, that’s a relief. At least now you’re acting like a responsible adult.”

“And what do you plan on wearing?” Kagura tugged his kimono. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna wear this?”

Gintoki glared at her from the side of his eyes. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

Shinpachi just shook his head in disappointment and Kagura jumped off the couch, rushing towards his room.

“Oi Kagura!” He called out as he heard her rummage through his drawers. “The hell are yo-“ But his voice was cut short as a black cloth lands directly on his face.

“Wear that.” Kagura said as the yukata fell down to his lap. “You now have the chance to wear it.”

It was Kagura and Shinpachi who gifted him this quite expensive yukata on his last birthday. But to their disappointment, he actually never got the chance to wear it. Or should he say, he preferred his kimono more than the yukata. He looked at his two grown-up kids as they smiled brightly back at him, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Enjoy your date, Gin-san.”

Gintoki smiled gently at the memory. Who would have thought that those two would turn out to be such responsible adults even after spending so much of their time with a lazy samurai like him. He really was proud of them.

Tapping his foot restlessly, he still found no signs of the drunk terminator in the crowd. She was late. But after he glanced at his wrist watch did he realize it was him who was pretty early. Guess he really didn’t want to mess this up.

He sighed. What’s wrong with me?

Looking back at the crowd, he suddenly detected a very familiar face approaching him. And God, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t awe struck.

Tsukuyo was wearing simple red colored yukata with a white obi wrapped around her waist, making her porcelain skin glow under the night sky. Unlike her usual hairstyle, her hair was tied up in a bun with a kanzashi as her bangs slightly covered the side of her face. She was holding a kinchaku in her left hand, giving her the perfect Japanese traditional look. If he was being honest, there was nothing too extravagant about her appearance. Her makeup was almost non-existent but what caught his attention the most were her eyes. For some reason, he always found himself looking at those amethyst orbs every time he faced her. Unlike the cold exterior she presented to almost everyone, there was some sort of soothing warmth in her kind gaze.

‘Eyes are the windows to the soul, they say.’ Well, he couldn’t agree more.

Tsukuyo walked towards him as he continued to stare at her. “Hey.”

Her voice brought him from his train of thoughts. “Uh, hi.” He straightened up, shoving his thoughts away.

He saw her check her watch. “And here I thought ya were gonna be late.”

Gintoki made a face at her teasing remark. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, Lady Shinigami. But I can be punctual as well.”

She chuckled at his pouted face. “Apology accepted.”

He sighed. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The streets were glowing brightly with reds and yellows. Lanterns and decorations were displayed on almost every building and stalls, making the atmosphere even more vibrant. The streets were packed with citizens enjoying the summer festival. Kids were running through the crowd, giggling as they bumped into scolding adults, couples were holding hands as they lovingly looked into each other’s eyes; it was the perfect festival season. Street vendors called out for customers, selling delicious snacks and other traditional souvenirs. And amongst the people, walked two adults side-by-side, glancing at the stalls as they passed by.

Apparently they were on a date. But still, it didn’t feel like one.

Gintoki and Tsukuyo kept their eyes straight on the road as they saw a few couples walk past them. As a matter of fact, these people were on a date as well. And so were they. But the awkwardness that lingered in the small space between them, made it even more difficult for those two to make their ‘date’ a proper one.

Years of inexperience had left them with no ideas.

Both grew up in such places and circumstances where romance was the last thing that crossed their minds. Gintoki sure was skilled when it came to making a woman happy in bed but this, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do when he was finally out on an actual date! The same could be said about Tsukuyo. Well, except for the fact that she had no experience in bed as well.

The two silently walked together as the discomfort continued to make the air thicker between them.

Just say something! Gintoki screamed internally.

“Oi. Would you like to go for goldfish scooping?” Gintoki finally broke the silence.

Tsukuyo looked at him and then at the stall he was pointing at, a few meters away to his right. “Sure.”

They walked towards the stall as Gintoki’s gaze fell on her hand. Why was he so nervous anyway? He could just very casually slip his hand into hers and it wouldn’t be awkward one bit. And most importantly, they weren’t highschool kids. Hell they were in their thirties!

Reaching out a little, he slightly brushed his hand against her. And she didn’t pull back. Sticking his pinky out, he tried to intertwine his fingers with her. Yosh! Now’s my chance!

But before he could make his plan a success, Tsukuyo had her hand plucking on his sleeve lightly. “Gintoki, look.” She pointed towards the narrow lane parallel to the stall.

They stopped on their tracks as Gintoki’s eyes followed her fingers. Looking at the dark alleyway, he saw a little girl crouching on the ground with her face hidden behind her kimono sleeves. Probably six or sever years old.

She was crying.

Worry soon swept over her eyes as Tsukuyo rushed towards the little girl, leaving Gintoki behind. And here goes my date. He groaned internally but followed her anyways.

Tsukuyo stooped down to the girl’s height as Gintoki heard the little girl sob in her lap. Her shoulders kept rising and falling with a fit of soft sobs as people continued to walk past them, not even batting an eye at the poor girl’s direction. She must have gotten separated from her parents in the crowd and in such a surrounding, nobody seemed to care much for a lost kid.

“Hello there.” Tsukuyo said tenderly, placing a hand on the little girl’s head.

The girl slowly raised her head, peeking from her sleeves as she looked at the kind lady smiling gently at her. “Are you lost?”

Gintoki saw the girl lift her head as her puffy eyes now sparkled a little, as if she had seen an angel. “I..I can’t find mommy and papa.” Her voice broke with each word.

“Don’t worry.” She smiled, stroking the girl’s dark locks to calm her down. “We’ll help ya find them.”

“Really?” She looked at the two adults with hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Tsukuyo pulled out a handkerchief from her yukata sleeve, wiping off her tears. “Let’s go look for yer parents.” She stood up, reaching out her right her.

Tiny fingers wrapped around hers as she helped the girl stand up.

Gintoki saw those two walking towards his direction as he heard Tsukuyo ask, “What’s yer name?”

Doe-like eyes looked up at her. “Michiko.”

“What a wonderful name! I’m Tsukuyo.” Then she pointed towards Gintoki. “And he’s Gintoki.”

It was weird how that little girl looked at him. Her face changed from normal to joyous as she suddenly cheered with excitement. “Mr. Shaggy!”

Tsukuyo snickered as she saw Gintoki frown at his new nickname. “Who’re calling Shaggy, brat!”

Michiko’s grin widened as she ran in between them, holding both of their hands in her little ones as she pulled them towards the crowd. “Let’s go look for Mommy and Papa!”

Gintoki and Tsukuyo looked at each other and then at the then teary-eyed girl leap with joy and confidence. Their lips curled into a gentle smile as they decided to follow the little footsteps.

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At first, they asked a few passer bys and looked around shops and stalls but still couldn’t detect her parents in the crowd. Michiko’s face saddened a little everytime she saw people shaking their head in a no. Tsukuyo, seeing her disheartened eyes, placed a reassuring hand on her head. The little girl smiled at her affectionate gesture as she nodded her head with a happy ‘hmm”.

After looking around for hour, the girl huffed with exhaustion as she looked up at Gintoki with her puppy eyes. Grumbling a “can’t help it” under his breath, he picked Michiko in one swift motion, placing her over his shoulders. An exhilarated squeal escaped her lips as she playfully messed with his curly locks. “A ride! Thank you, Mr. Shaggy!”

“Call me Shaggy again and I drop you.” Gintoki scolded gently.

The girl grinned back as they continued to look around.

It was strange how the crying little girl became so comfortable with those two in such a short span of time. Long gone was the shyness from her voice now, Gintoki and Tsukuyo observed the girl as she happily went from one stall to another with them. They had een together fot the last two hours and even though they knew she was missing her parents, her honest smile and joyous squeals happened to put their hearts at ease a little. Some elderly couples walked passed them, giving those three a gentle smile while whispering “how adorable they look together”. Tsukuyo’s face heated up a little and Gintoki rubbed his neck nervously at those compliments. Honestly, they were looking like a married couple with a child.

But it was just not the appearance that made strangers suspect them as a happy family. Gintoki and Tsukuyo both happened to have completely given in to her excited “let’s go there!” and “I wanna eat that!”. Surprisingly, Gintoki didn’t have any problems with the little girl ordering around. Tsukuyo would glance at the duo every few minutes with a smile as she saw Gintoki surrendering to her demands with a scoff but agreeing nonetheless. He really looks like her father.

“What are you smiling at?” They were eating yakisoba at one of the yattai when Gintoki quirked an eyebrow towards her. The little girl was sitting between them, her complete focus on the delicious noodles when Tsukuyo saw Gintoki wiping some sauce off her left cheek with his sleeves.

“Oh nothin’. Just saw you pamperin’ Michiko. Well, it’s no surprise though.” She shrugged with a smirk.

“I’m not pampering her. She just had some sauce on her face.”

“Yeah, yeah. And now ya’d say yer not actin’ like her father at all.”

Gintoki rolled his eyes, a prominent scowl forming on his face.“ No, I was not! It’s you who’s been acting like her mother all the time!”

“Hey! That’s not true. And can ya just keep yer voice down a lil’!?”

“Well, now who’s playing Mommy here?”

“Oh, just shut it, ya bastard!”

“You two are just like Mommy and Papa.”

Their bickering was put on a hold as the heard the little girl chirp enthusiastically. They looked down to see Michiko was grinning unexpectedly as her eyes gleamed with joy. “I always hear Mommy and Daddy tease each other like this. But they’re super lovey-dovey!” She continued. “And when they stop fighting, they look at each other with all cutesy-cutesy eyes and then Papa kisses Mommy!”

“Seriously, the hell are they doing in front of a kid?” Gintoki muttered with annoyance to which Tsukuyo shot him a deadly glare.

“Ne, ne, Gin-chan. Do you kiss Tsuk-ki nee too?” Her doe-like eyes were filled with curiosity when she looked up at the silver-haired samurai.

Gintoki turned the other way awkwardly. “Umm, well…”

“And Tsuk-ki nee, do you kiss him too?”

Their faces were now burning. “Well…it’s not like that…”

“So, you don’t love each other?” They could hear the eagerness in her voice as she went on with her question. “But then, why are you two together? And why do you keep looking at each other with lovey-dovey eyes? Why do you keep smiling at each other? Do you not want to hold each-others hands? Do you not want to kiss each other? Then why are your faces red? Does that not mean you love each other?”

Only incoherent “umm’s” and “well’s” left their lips as the little girl’s never-ending questions remained unanswered. Her wave of questions caught the stall vendor and the other customers attention as they now had their eyes on the trio, smiling and mumbling among themselves as they saw the two adults looking awkwardly at each other and then at the child who had her curious eyes fixated on them.

“Al-alright. W-we need to go look fer yer parents.” It was Tsukuyo who stammered with her words as she picked up Michiko.

“E-exactlyy! Today’s kids, I must say.” A nervous laugh made out of his lips as Gintoki slammed the money in front of the vendor. “The food was delicious!” And with this said, he rushed himself out of the stall. This date is a disaster!

Finally getting themselves out of the uncomfortable stares, Gintoki made his way towards Tsukuyo who was now carrying Michiko. The sheer awkwardness and embarrassment again surrounded them, making them not face each other. Michiko’s gaze moved back and forth as she saw the two adults sighing in defeat. “Did I….do something wrong?”

Her innocent eyes were almost in the brink of tears when Tsukuyo sighed again, her stressed eyes now looking at the little girl with affection. “No, Michiko. It’s already gettin’ late and we still need to look fer yer parents.”

“And it’s gonna rain soon.” Gintoki followed suit as he turned up to look at the clear night sky now covered with dark grey clouds. “It’s already pretty late and I think they’re gonna cancel the fireworks. Your parents must be getting really worried.” He patted her head gently to cheer her up a little.

“So, let’s go look fer them, okay?” Tsukuyo smiled warmly.

“Hmm!”

Another thirty minutes passed by as they continued their search for Michiko’s parents in the busy street. The three saw vendors closing their stalls and people leaving the festival as the road now become more and more vacant. An announcement was soon made regarding the fireworks being cancelled due to bad weather. Urgent footsteps moved from one direction to another and with each passing minute, Michiko’s face only got gloomier. Holding her uptight, Tsukuyo ran towards another street vendor as she heard the little girl sniff in her shoulder. Her worry only risen up when the vendor shook his head in denial.

In the opposite direction, Gintoki continued to ask the other few passer bys when he noticed a man in an olive yukata anxiously asking a vendor something just a few meters away. Standing right beside him was a woman with her palms covering her face as he saw the man turn towards her and shook his head in disappointment. “Tsukuyo!” Gintoki called out. Hearing his voice, Tsukuyo rushed towards him. “Look! I guess that’s her parents.”

Michiko’s head jerked towards the direction Gintoki was pointing and in an instant they saw the little girl jump off Tsukuyo’s hold as she happily ran towards the crying couple. “Papa! Mommy!”

The couple turned around immediately at the source of the voice, rushing towards the little girl’s direction. Gintoki and Tsukuyo looked from a distance as they saw her parents collapse on their knees and pulled the little girl in one tight embrace. They could hear the light sobs coming from the two as the father gently stroked her back. The mother pulled out of the embrace as she cupped her face in her palms. “Oh God, Michiko! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where were you? And how did you find us?”

There were urgency and relief in her broken voice as Michiko nodded with a smile. Turning around, she pointed toward the two standing a few distance away as they smiled back at her. “I’m fine, Mommy. They brought me here.” Eyes filled with gratitude, Gintoki and Tsukuyo saw the little family bow down as they reached them. “We’re indebted to you.” The father said. “Thank you so much for bringing our daughter back safely to us. How can we repay you?”

“Ah, you can just pay back all th-“ A quick jab to his chest made Gintoki curse under his breath.

“Oh please. We’re glad we were able to help.” Tsukuyo replied. “Ya have such a wonderful daughter.” She smiled at Michiko.

“We hope she did not cause much trouble.”

“Not at all. Instead, it was us who enjoy her company so much.”

“That pretty lady’s name is Tsuk-ki nee.” The girl chirped. “And that’s Mr. Shaggy!”

“Oi! I told you not to call me that!”

“You musn’t, Michiko.” Her mother scolded her lightly. “We’re sorry for her misbehavior.”

Gintoki grumbled but then looked at the little girl who was still looking at him with her happy eyes. “Next time, don’t let go off their hands. Okay?” His voice was so gentle, it made Tsukuyo’s heart flip a little. He crouched down to her height as he gently tapped her nose with his index finger, getting an excited “um-hmm” from the little girl.

He really is a dad, after all. Tsukuyo smiled as she saw Gintoki stand back up. “Y’all should go. It’s gonna rain.”

“Yes. We should head back.” The father nodded. “Thank you so much.” They bowed down once again before leaving. “Bye-bye! Tsuk-ki nee! Mr. Shaggy!” Michiko waved at them with a huge grin. Both of them waved back, smiling, as they saw the little girl walk back to her home with her parents.

“Take care.” Tsukuyo whispered as they soon vanished in the darkness.

“We should head back too.” Gintoki said, turning towards her.

“Yeah.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The road was getting more and more silent with each lightening strike. Almost all shops and stall were closed when Gintoki and Tsukuyo walked down the street in complete silence, leaving the festival long behind them. Their date really did not go well. Everything that had Gintoki planned, or at least thought, all went downhill. They had been walking for the last fifteen minutes and none had spoken a word. And it was just making the air between them even more uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry.”

Tsukuyo turned to look at the man walking beside her.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Gintoki replied nervously. “It was a disaster. The date, I mean.”

Tsukuyo smiled at his apology. “Don’t be. To be honest, I’d a lot of fun.”

“Real-“ But their chat was cut short when a raindrop landed on the tip of his nose. And then another on his shoulder. The two simultaneously looked up at the night sky as more came down but with even more speed.

“Shit!” Gintoki cursed loudly, rainwater soon starting to soak his clothes.

“Gintoki!” Tsukuyo called, pointing at a nearby shed around the corner in the dark. “Over there!”

The raindrops fell even faster when Gintoki, without giving any thought, clutched Tsukuyo’s wrist and ran towards the little shed. Tsukuyo’s face heated up as looked down at their joined hands while trying o keep up with his pace in her almost drenched yukata. Fortunately, the shed was only a few meters away and they made it there on the nick of time. Their clothes were partially soaked but it was still not too much. Removing his hands from hers, Gintoki pulled back his silver hair, brushing it a little to let the excess water fall down his perms.

The lack of warmth around her wrists suddenly made Tsukuyo’s heart drop a little.

“And now it’s raining!” Gintoki scowled at the rain. “Of all the days, it had to be today!”

Tsukuyo saw the man groan as he threw his head down in exasperation. She had no idea he was looking forward to their date this much. Sighing, he looked at the now empty street in front of them. “I’m sorry.” She heard him repeat those words again. “I ended up wasting your time. Once the rain stops, I’ll drop you back home. That’s the least I can do, I guess.” He was still trying to look cool with his deadpan voice and casual shrugs. But the tint of disappointment didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“I guess I already told you.” She turned to face him. “It was fun, Gintoki.”

“Really?” He looked up with a surprised face. “Or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

“Ya know I don’t do that.”

“Yeah. Sorry I forgot.”

“Who’d have thought? Ya, spendin’ yer money and pameperin’ a lil’ girl. Yer such a softy.” She teased, taking her kiseru out of her sleeves and lighting it up.

Under the dim street light, Tsukuyo noticed his cheeks tint a light pink. “Oi! Weren’t you the one who dragged the kid along!?”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave her there. And ya wouldn’t have done that either.” She said as a matter of fact. “Plus, it was kinda sweet, lookin’ at yer soft side.”

Gintoki sighed. “She reminded me of Kagura.”

A smile curled up on her lips. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. When she first came around, she was just like this.” He chuckled, remembering the now grown-up girl who helped him out with his date outfit. “She still is, actually. Cheeky, obnoxious, a glutton. But a much responsible adult, unlike me. And the same goes for Shinpachi. Who’d have thought? They grow up so quickly.”

She knew how much he loved those kids. And yet, now that he was making such a sad yet proud smile, her heart sighed in content. “Ya sure are a proud dad.”

“I’m not their Dad.”

“Yes. Ya are. And we’re not havin’ this argument.”

“Alright. Fine.”

Rain continued to pour down and the two stood in a comfortable silence. It was strange for both of them; how even after being awkward around each other at times and bickering constantly, they’d find themselves in the most comfortable company. There were no rapid heartbeats or nervous stutters between them anymore. It was just the rain and them together, alone. And it was way better than any festival dates they’d ever been to.

“I didn’t ask you out just on impulse.”

“Huh?”

“I actually wanted to see whether we could…you know….work on this together.”

Seriously, they were past that age. Goddamnit, they were in their thirties! Stutters and hand holding and stuffs like that; it was just never their thing. Seven years, they had known each other for seven years. And it always looked like staying by each other sides was more than enough for them. They didn’t ask for more. Even when Tsukuyo realized her feelings, even when Gintoki heard her tell him everything that had happened during the two years when he was absent; they never asked for more.

But it was always there.

The longing and the one little chance that could help them take a step forward.

Maybe years of being in love had taught Tsukuyo some self-control on her emotions. But his sudden confessions still made her heart race. “W-what’re ya sayin’, Gintoki?”

Taking a deep breath, Gintoki glanced at the woman standing beside him. And it was gorgeous how she was glowing in the dim light, just like the moon. “I guess this isn’t just made for me. Dating and stuff. But honestly, I wasn’t just shitting around. I really thought I could do…something properly. Hell, I even took advice from the kids!”

He heard her snicker at this. “Ya were lookin’ fer datin’ tips?”

“That’s not the point woman.” He frowned. “Nevermind. What I’m trying to say is…I messed up. I thought we could enjoy a little together…just the two of us..but I guess…I ruined our chance.”

“And that’s why yer gettin’ so worked up? It’s not like ya.”

“I know but….ah nevermind.”

Seeing the forever cool and lazy silver-haired samurai get slightly frustrated over the fact that he couldn’t even make his first ever date a proper one made Tsukuyo smile. Reaching out her hands, she clasped his wide hands into hers. “I had a good time.”

Gintoki looked down at their intertwined fingers and then at the woman smiling at him. And God, everything about her was beautiful. Shit, I want to kiss her now. “You could have gone for someone” He found himself saying. “in the past four years. Why didn’t you?”

She gave an honest answer to his question.“Didn’t have the time ta look fer one. Nor any interest.”

“The why did you say yes to me?”

Tsukuyo fell her throat dry up. “N-nothi’ in particular. I guess…it’s the same reason as yers. Wanted to try out…or somethin’ like that.” She could feel her face heat up.

“And you never fell in love?”

Her flickering eyes went unnoticed in the dark as she turned to look at the man beside ger. She was in love. With him. But it didn’t matter. “No. Why didn’t ya?”

He shrugged. “Same as you, I guess. Brothels were more like my thing.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re looking good tonight, by the way.” He said honeslty.

“So do ya.” She smiled. “But ya don’t have to say that just because we’re on a date, Gintoki.”

“I’m being honest, that’s all. Okay, tell me this. Did Hinowa choose this one for you?” He pointed at her yukata.

“Of course it was her. When she found out that I was going out on a date with ya, the whole Yoshiwara went out to look for the “perfect” yukata.” She sighed, rubbing her head at the memory. “They were even telling me ta do all kinds of makeup and stuff. But fortunately, I got myself outta there.”

“Ah.” He smirked proudly. “So, they wanted you to go out on a date with me. Well, what can I say. Gin-san sure is popular.”

“I bet ya are.” Tsukuyo chuckled at his smug expression. “Wait, there’s somethin’ on your hair.”

“Eh? Where?” He ran his hand through his hair, but nothing came out.

“Wait.” She moved closer to him in the dark, her breath suddenly mingling with his. The rain still continued to pitter-patter on the concrete road, the dim street lights brightening their dark surrounding. They weren’t too close but the warmth emitting their bodies suddenly made them aware of the cold atmosphere. Tsukuyo reached out, her hand messing with his white curls as she looked for the unidentified object in his bushy hair. “They’re pretty soft.” She remarked, her soft hand brushing his scalp, making him shudder a little at this contact. “Here.” She pulled out a little straw, showing it to him. “Yer hair’s really like a nest.”

Maybe it was the light chuckle that escaped her pink lips. Or maybe it was her eyes and how they shimmered in the darkness. Maybe it was the warmth that now surrounded them and Gintoki didn’t want to feel the cold air hit his skin again. Or maybe it was the scent of lavender and smoke that enveloped his senses. Truthfully, he didn’t know what it was. And he didn’t even want to know. For now, he could just look at the scar that adorned her face. And the amethyst orbs that glowed in the faint light. He didn’t do date; hell he didn’t even know what romance actually refers to properly. But having this woman by his side never felt this right.

“..Gintoki?”

His name, God he wanted her to repeat his name. “You’re beautiful.” He breathed, his lips leaning towards her.

It was a trance, she knew. And yet, she was ready to let this illusion become her reality. She felt Gintoki’s fingers gently brush her hair behind her ear, his eyes drowning into hers. She could feel his breath on her lips as she found herself leaning closer to him, only just an inch apart.

HONK!!

Both jumped back hearing the loud horn as they turned to see a truck pass by.

Never had Tsukuyo felt like grabbing Gintoki’s collar just so they could relive that moment.

Never had Gintoki felt like running after a truck and beat the shit out of the driver.

But the rain had stopped. And the sky was now getting clear.”We should head back.” Tsukuyo suggested, turning away from him.

Gintoki saw her straighten her yukata with her hands, her back now facing him. “Yeah..” He sighed. “it’s pretty late.”

Tsukuyo nodded as they both got out of the shed. The next few minutes, they walked in silence, not uttering a single word. But the awkwardness wasn’t there anymore. This time, without any reluctance, Gintoki found his hand wrapping around hers confidently. And she only squeezed it back gently.

There was always something, they knew. But tonight, it changed.

They finally reached the Yoshiwara gates and decided to say goodnights to each other.

Is it the end? Are we never meeting like this again?

“Tsukuyo!” She was on her way to enter the gate when she heard him call out her name. Stopping in her tracks, she turned around to look at him. “Can we…you know..maybe…meet again? I guess that maybe…you know…we can actually, maybe, make it work..?”

There was a strange charm in him. Especially when he was nervous and rubbing the back of his neck while looking somewhere else. And it made Tsukuyo adore him all the more.

Smiling with a sigh, she walked towards him to give a proper answer.

Gintoki saw her walking towards him again and before he could make anything out, he found her leaning towards him as she lightly brushed her lips against the corner of his lips. “Next time, when ya ask me out,” she was clutching his collar, pulling him down as their eyes met “don’t be so formal. That doesn’t suit ya.”

And with that said she turned around, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He saw her enter the gate as he found himself place his hand on the place where her lips brushed against his skin.

Technically, his first date didn’t go as planned.

Oh well. Maybe he wouldn’t try to be so formal next time.

-----------------------X---------------------

#gintsu #gintoki x tsukuyo #gintsuki #sakata gintoki #tsukuyo #fanfiction #mine

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lost-in-time-marie · 4 years

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Into the Shadows: Chapter One

I stared idly at the flat, gray skies waiting for Natasha by our favorite weeping willow in the courtyard, its green sweeping leaves the only splash of color in a sea of grays and browns. Whole school years had come and gone, but the two of us still met every morning in the same spot, at the same time, before the bell rang; I liked the tradition. Thick fog wound around the students filling the small, square dirt field, the grass trampled long ago. I loved the fog and the wind and the overcast, gray skies. If I breathed in just a little deeper, I swear I could smell the fall; the decaying leaves, the hint of chill forming in the air, signaling for the winter to follow close at its heels. The wind picked up my wavy, brown hair then, swirling it around my shoulders, as if to thank me for acknowledging it. I neatly tucked it back behind my ears and instinctively hugged my soft, red jacket closer to my body. It was far too early for the September sun to break through the grey yet, but I knew in a few hours the leaves would be alight with my favorite green-gold.

“Hey,” Natasha called, her freckled face cracking into a huge grin. My smile answered automatically.

“Hey,” I replied, switching my thoughts to the first day of school.

“I’m so excited! Especially for Advanced Placement Psychology,” Natasha chimed happily, her brown eyes lighting with excitement. I always teased her because her brown eyes were the exact shade of brown as the freckles that speckled her face and body. She did not particularly like such facts being pointed out to her, and I could picture the exact dark scowl she would pull her face down into at the mere mention of such subjects. Something was off about her appearance; it took me a moment to place it. Her usual long locks had been sheared off to above her shoulders, in what I knew was a last-minute decision to start off this school year different than all the others. Despite her tireless attempts at straightening the ridiculous curls every morning, the wind seemed to take great delight in ruining it her first step out the door.

“I know,” I replied with a groan, “You’ve said so at least every minute since school let out last year.”

“I know, I know, but still it’s going to be great!” she enthused, practically bouncing in place. I rolled my eyes.

“I like your haircut by the way,” I smiled. If I responded more than a few sentences before acknowledging such a crucial change, I certainly would suffer for it later.

She smiled, knowing my thoughts without me having to say them. “Thank you,” she said, touching the curls self-consciously. Shortly after catching up with our other friends in the courtyard, the bell rang. All of us seasoned citizens of this school, no one jumped, we merely begrudgingly separated off toward class, roused by the unseen compulsion.

I pulled a folded piece of paper from my jeans pocket and remembered my first period to be Acting 1 with Mrs. Robertson. Acting wasn’t particularly interesting or my cup of tea, but I couldn’t get Ceramics 1 with my schedule so I was forced to have Acting as my fine art credit. Mrs. Robertson was one of my teachers freshmen year, she loved me; this class would be a breeze.

I weaved easily through the crowd of students filing into the school and made my way up the stairs to Mrs. Robertson’s room; being petite and short had its advantages at times. Bright, sentimental posters plastering the walls and desks paired in twos greeted me upon entering Mrs. Robertson’s room. It was like something out of kindergarten. I barely concealed my cringe. Mrs. Robertson stood at the front of the classroom in a blinding yellow sundress writing “Welcome Students!” on the whiteboard in careful cursive. The few students who milled around the room I recognized, this was not surprising, our high school being small and suburban.

“Hello, Kristin, it’s nice to see you again this year,” Mrs. Robertson greeted me cheerily. She hadn’t changed at all in the three years since I last had her class last. Her blonde hair lay neatly in short layers tucked behind her ears, bright blue eyes still holding a smile for everyone, and a stature almost impossibly smaller than even mine somehow. It always bothered me how eerily happy and cheerful she was. I tried not to stare directly at her, it kind of felt like looking at the sun with her exuberant attitude and too bright dress.

“You too, Mrs. Robertson,” I replied with a smile, portraying none of my true feelings. I walked over to a desk and took a seat.

“Oh, I’m giving you seats in alphabetical order when the bell rings. Just stand at the back wall until we are ready,” Mrs. Robertson ordered me brightly. I did as she said, stifling a sigh. I watched the other students pour into the classroom and line up beside me after much prodding from Mrs. Robertson. She had almost no authority with the other students because she didn’t like to be stern, it was a rare event when a student actually listened to her.

“Alright class, please line up against the wall. I’m giving you assigned seats in alphabetical order,” Mrs. Robertson called, her cheerful voice never faltering. I leaned against the back wall, waiting for her to control the class and call my name.

“Ryder Grim, Kristin Hart,” She called several minutes later, having finally made some progress towards conducting a classroom. I walked to the pair of desks she stood beside and took the one she pointed to. The intense stares of my classmates weighed on me, heavy and palpable. I resisted the urge to bury myself right then and there. A guy sat in the other desk beside me. I didn’t recognize the name. Strange, thanks to Natasha’s insufferable curiosity I thought I knew all the seniors at this school. I peered at Ryder from the corner of my eye, using a thin veil of wavy brown hair to hide my gaze. His jet-black hair was gelled and stylishly tousled, almost long enough to hang in his eyes, which were the brightest green I had ever seen. Coupled with snow white, flawless skin and wiry muscles, he was quite a sight, even more so because I realized I really didn’t recognize him at all.

“Kristin, this is Ryder, he’s new to our school this year, please be a dear and help him out,” Mrs. Robertson instructed, standing over my desk. I nodded obediently, and with a merry smile she returned to calling out names and assigning desks. Relief swallowed me as attention gradually shifted away from us again. I guess that explained things at least. A pang of pity sliced through me unexpectedly. All my awkward, lonely past first days of school as the new kid in town suddenly flashed behind my eyes. I turned to Ryder, determined to be welcoming, despite my usual shyness.

“I’m Kristin, it’s nice to meet you,” I introduced politely.

“Ryder, pleasure,” He said curtly, his words harsh and clipped as if meeting me was absolutely the worst ordeal in the world. A flicker of surprise skipped through me, followed by an unwanted wave of rejection. I didn’t often go out of my way to reach out to others, and I certainly wasn’t expecting such a vehement response to a usually harmless gesture. He kept his stony, bright green eyes forward without even a glance in my direction. I worked to bite my sharp tongue and resist the urge to say something that would force him to turn to look at me, my instinct being to lash out with the hurt.

“Well you seem nice,” I retorted sarcastically, half to myself. Well, at least I tried.

“I do my best,” He sneered coldly. I rolled my eyes and focused on class until the bell chimed again, refusing to engage him further. Now I could have a whole new reason to dread this class every morning.

The class passed quicker than I expected; much to my delight. Most of the class period was wasted assigning seats and getting students to behave, the rest was spent just going over the syllabus, rules, and future class assignments; generic first day business. Ryder’s presence nagged at me through the entirety of the period, like a fly relishing in buzzing specifically in my ear. The bell rang. I jumped from my seat and fled to the hall, eager to retreat from my icy partner, the tangible tension between us was beginning to suffocate me towards the end.

“Your partner seems super friendly,” A breathy voice called from behind me. I turned to see a short, plump girl with short black hair and a sweet smile.

“Oh hey, Katy, I didn’t even see you, we have Acting together?” I asked, slowing my stride to wait up for her. Katy’s smiled beamed at me from her round face, as always. She was the sweetest girl, kind to everyone, it was easy to quickly become her friend.

“Yes,” She replied happily, almost childlike.

“I’m so glad we have classes together this year too. I feel like I didn’t see you nearly enough this summer,” I commented with genuine pleasure. Katy wasn’t my best friend like Natasha or anything, but she had always been kind to me when Natasha and I got in a riff or when we shared classes in past school years. She let her layered black hair fall in her face as she asked to see my schedule. I pulled my schedule from my pocket again to compare, discovering Katy and I shared only one other class.

“So who was that guy?” asked Katy, round cheeks turning bright red.

“Ryder? I don’t know, he only said two words to me the whole class. He was pretty rude, actually,” I answered with a shrug.

“That’s so weird, but he was seriously hot,” She admitted, grinning wildly and nudging my arm.

I gave her a wry smile before replying, “Do not even think about it.”

“Oh, come on! It’s been forever since you dated anyone! Eighth grade to be exact.” Katy prodded, wagging her eyebrows at me.

I laughed, “Yes and I plan to keep it that way for a while longer. Ryder is a rude jerk and I’d consider myself lucky if I never had anything to do with him again! Besides, I’m headed off to college after this year, why would I want to start a relationship now?”

“You’re so critical, maybe he’s just...shy? He is new this year” She replied, always coming to the defense of others.

“Yeah, I sincerely doubt it. If it makes you feel better, I’ll see what Natasha knows about him,” I supplied, sneakily negotiating an escape. Katy’s grin collapsed and her full, pink lips pulled down. I sighed.

“I really wish you and Natasha would just get along,” I said, shaking my head, but secretly happy for the redirection of conversation.

Katy snorted, “Unlikely.”

I rounded the corner approaching my class and Katy waved goodbye as she headed in the opposite direction to her next period. Just as I reached my next class, I noticed Ryder standing in the hall with his schedule in one hand and a map in the other. He twisted the map around and furrowed his brows; if he stared at the paper any more intently it would just spontaneously combust.

I sighed and approached him, silently cursing my better nature. “What class are you going to?” I asked, just barely attempting civility. I was a sucker for people in need, even for rude jerks that made bad first impressions. Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

He jumped and turned to me. He was even more handsome when I stared at him directly. The paleness of his skin was striking against such dark black hair and his green eyes were practically luminescent. I quickly pushed that thought from my mind, not even wanting to admit it’d skidded through.

“Look, I don’t need your help, I can get around on my own,” He replied stonily.

“What is your problem? I’m trying to help you! Why do you have to be so stubborn?!” I practically yelled, my temper flaring sharply. I snatched the schedule and map from his hand. I angled the map the right way and shoved it back at him.

“Your next class is down the hall, third door on the right,” I fumed, relinquishing the schedule to him before turning sharply on my heel and stalking angrily to class. I should have just let him wonder lost, maybe he would have left, I half wished silently.

I didn’t understand quite why I hated Ryder Grim so much already, especially when it was quite a feat to even make me angry, let alone produce hate. Perhaps it was the stubborn way he refused help or the insolent way he directed his every word in the direction of others. I liked to think I was above being hurt by his rejection at my attempt to be friendly to the new kid. It might even be jealousy at his utter perfection compared to my awkward, clumsy mannerisms. Regardless, he made my skin heat, my muscles itch to hit him, and more than anything, he made me not want to be within a ten-mile radius of him. I tried to simmer down and feign indifference, but I knew myself better.

Besides that incident, I refused to allow my mind to recollect the boiling irritation of earlier, the rest of the day passed rather easily. We did all the usual first day of school nonsense. AP Government followed into Calculus which turned into AP Literature then Lunch trailed by Teacher Assisting to AP Chemistry, and finally my long-awaited AP Psychology. A teacher named Sinclair taught AP Psychology, I had had a class of his every year since I started high school, as had Natasha; he was the best teacher on campus and everyone’s favorite.

I barely saw Ryder after first period, I let out a silent thank you to whoever was listening for that small stroke of luck. He was in my Chemistry class, but I sat as far away from him as the classroom would allow. Every time I saw him, I just got more and more steamed until even his name made me want to spit fire.

I rushed for Sinclair’s class just in time to see Natasha practically dance through the door. I had only really seen Natasha in between classes. Natasha was in my AP Government class and this class, but that was it, not including lunch. Most teachers knew well enough now to separate us, or she would talk all through class. I followed her inside and we took our usual seats beside each other. Sinclair was different, there was an unspoken expectation in his classroom that not even Natasha dared challenge. We caught up with each other and asked about how school had gone so far, both of us had good things to report and I had all but forgotten my early morning encounter with Ryder. Unfortunately, the next time I glanced up he was walking briskly across the classroom and took a seat at the very back.

I was careful to compose myself around Natasha, lest I give away my true displeasure, but she was too quick and knew me too well.

“I see you’ve met the newest addition to our campus already,” Natasha mused, seeing right through me.

“Ugh! Not him again,” I groaned, not hesitating to unleash the true force of my annoyance from this morning now that I was discovered. I hastily recapped the events of the morning for her benefit.

Natasha laughed. “Wow, you hate someone already and it’s just the first day of school, you’ve learned so well from me,” she beamed with pride.

I shook my head, “Please, he’s just another stupid, immature boy to add to the already overly healthy collection at this school,” I muttered, stealing a glance in his direction at the back of the room. He sat perfectly straight and barely moving, looking very much like a statue.

The late bell rang then, and Sinclair swept into the classroom with a brain in his hand. A fake brain, of course. Sinclair always rolled into class just as the late bell rang with some mysterious prop which our lesson for the day would focus on. It’s why everyone loved his class, he kept things interesting and didn’t waste time on stupid things like a syllabus or rules. That, and, in a lot of ways, he was kind of like a kid himself.

“My name is Sinclair. Not Mr. Sinclair, that was my father’s name, just Sinclair or sir. The rules are: no cell phones, don’t talk while I’m talking, and do as I tell you. Follow the rules and we’ll have lots of fun, break the rules and your life in this class will be hell,” Sinclair explained in a stern, booming voice. New kids would be fooled by this strict façade, although Sinclair knew how to control a classroom, he loved all his students and made everything very fun. He gave the same introduction at the beginning of every year. “I gave you all a syllabus at orientation, I’m not going to waste time going over it with you, you can all read by now I hope,” he continued, several repeat students of his, like Natasha and I, laughed, “Today, we’re going to talk about the brain.” The rest of the class he showed us diagrams and models of the brain explaining each part and its role, it was all very fascinating. Natasha ate up every word and took notes. I’d never seen her so motivated. Sinclair had that strange effect on his students, no one wanted to disappoint him because no one could be disappointed in quite the same way Sinclair could be disappointed in you. Class passed quicker than I would have liked, at the last ten minutes he had us break off into groups to become more familiar with the brain models.

“You know that guy you were talking about earlier? Ryder Grim? I heard about him earlier,” Natasha whispered to me as we broke apart models of the brain to peer inside. Natasha dealt in information. Every school had a rumor mill, but half of the information was false or misconceived. Natasha knew just about everything about everyone and all of it was one hundred percent true. I’m not particularly unpopular or popular, but Natasha hated about seventy-five percent of our school population and the other 24.5% was acquaintances, that last .5% was her real friends, like me. How she got all her information with that kind of social order astounded me, but I never asked, somehow, with Natasha, I was almost afraid to find out. Don’t be fooled though, she did spread a lot of information around school, but if I or anyone else told her a secret they didn’t want to get out, she would take it to her grave.

I sighed and chuckled, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know me too well,” She answered with a devious smile, “Anyways, I heard he just moved here to live with his uncle, not too far from you actually. A lot of girls are already swooning over him, too. He’s in one of my classes.”

“How do you ever actually get work done with all this gossiping?” I joked, shaking my head.

“Work? What is this work you speak of?” Natasha asked in mock confusion, tilting her head so short, brown ringlets fell over her face.

I laughed, “I don’t even really care anymore, he’s just a jerk, and I’m not going to let him or anyone else bother me this year,” I vowed. The bell rang making us all jump, this time with eagerness to follow its prompting, as this bell released us home. I hoisted on my loaded down backpack and walked with Natasha to her white Prius.

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legacyofabsolutewalnuts · 4 years

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@swtorpadawan tagged me in this meme, and I am hella into it. This is my favourite musing bc swtor in the canon of star wars is fucking hilarious. On a side note, for anyone who does this and chose only one oc, but has thoughts about the others oh my god do and let me know. Im a snoopy bish give them all to me. In this case I’m going to try to keep it brief while covering my main four, Viticalia, Thomsyn, Belville and Montym. Partly bc I’ve been thinking about their dynamics for a joint Alliance Commander AU lately

This got really long, bc I couldn’t choose one, and Im a wordy bish, so I’ve put the actual answers under the cut, so as not to kill everyones dashes

What would your OC do if they were thrown through time and into Star Wars the Clone Wars:

1. Who would they fight for?

I think most of them would either end up going independent or siding with the Republic. Montym and Belville would actually be the most likely to commit to the Republic, they’re both two people who value loyalty and understand that sometimes things need to be changed from the inside out. Thomsyn I think would stay with the Republic, but may end up with the Grey Jedi. She isn’t inclined to this whole “just peacekeepers” deal and would want to take the fight to the Sith directly. Viticalia would be an independent, committing to neither except for who would pay her most, or just destroy the CIS and take her place at the top of it. She would not be willing to submit to being ordered around by Dooku, or lord forbid Grevious or Ventress, and she definitely wouldn’t appreciate Sidious being unwilling to step up on the frontline with his troops.

2. If not a force user, would they keep their job (Would a trooper still work for this new Republic and would an Agent be loyal to the Separatists?)?

Bel would probably make a play to join the SIS. And then immediately question how the SIS went from agents like Theron to seemingly having the capabilities of two people and paperclip. I’m just saying how did no one put any of the diddly dang dots together. He’d be the type to pull off an op and then basically drop it at the Jedi’s feet like “here, give me a job.” I’ll get into why he would go to the republic in a bit.

3. Who would they hate?

Vits would despise Dooku and Sidious. She would like Ventress but find her training considerably lacking. She understand some cunning, undercover work, and what it can do, that’s why she and Bel get along, but the lack of commitment to stand beside your men and fight with them is something she despises.

Thomsyn would have some problems with the way the Jedi, but she and Montym would both have a much bigger problem with Senate oversight. They’re both used to working with politicians, but the inability to work without that oversight would bother them. Neither of them think the Jedi are infallible, but they both have a big problem with the idea of needing politicians to greenlight things like humanitarian missions.

Bel would have a huge problem with the Jedi that he keeps under lock and key. Part of it would be due to Kothe. The other part is...well he’s seen what happens when Sith lead, he doesn’t really think the Jedi should be given military power for their ability with the Force either.

4. Who would they get along well with?

Bel would actually get along really well with GAR Specforces. I think he’d adjust pretty easily to them, and people like Skirata and Vau would be comfortingly familiar as Bel actually got along really well with Shae and Torian. And he would very much enjoy the troopers, he understands their mindset, and especially with the Commandos, they understand the importance of intel people like Bel are meant to provide. He’d also be all in to spar with the ARC’s, and hone his skills against theirs.

Montym would have had a romantic crush on Obi-Wan within five seconds of the man dramatically dropping his cape and that’s really all there is to it. He would also get along well with Senator Organa.

Like I said earlier, I think Vits would have liked Ventress, and probably tried to poach her as an apprentice in a damn second. Thomsyn I’m not really sure who she’d get along with best.

5. What would they think of the Jedi Order?

Viticalia has, and always will be fascinated by the Jedi in that sort of detached, research-esque way. Otherwise she doesn’t care about them much, although she does find it a bit amusing to watch some of them tout the ideals of the Republic as things go down hill. She at least never had any misconceptions about the Empire. Thomsyn and Montym sort of understand how the Jedi could have come under such heavy control of the Senate. They both would have hoped for better, but aren’t that surprised, not after Saresh.

Bel could not care less about the Jedi. Likes them well enough individually for the most part, but that’s his approach to any and all force users really.

6. What would they think of the “rule of 2” Sith?

Viticalia thinks its the stupidest thing ever. Probably starts taking on as many slightly sensitive people as she can and calls them her Apprentices just to piss off these new “Sith”. Really she’s just adopting herself a bunch of children, but it counts and that’s all she cares about.

7. What would they think of having a clone and droid army fighting instead of typical soldiers?

Bel understands what its like to be treated as less than a person. As an asset only. It’s still something he does to himself, thinking about himself as only an asset or a liability, which is a mindset Theron’s working on having him get rid of. So he would sympathize pretty heavily, which is part of why he’d go to the Republic. He’s turned the tide of a war and saved countless of his coworkers in the military before, he would try it again.

Viticalia and Thomsyn would have more practical issues with the idea a droid army. They aren’t creative, they can’t interpret, and they aren’t built for every situation. Thomsyn however would have a lot of problems on the legality of clones, whereas Vits is used to slavery and is prone to forgetting about how that works.

Montym thinks the whole idea on either side is terrible, for various reasons, but cannot stand that clones are not legal citizens but the Republic uses them anyhow.

8. If Republic - if they became a general in the army what would their relationship with their clones be like?

I think Montym would accept a position as a General, Thomsyn...maybe for a while. Montym is a little better with handling the cost of war, whereas Thomsyn counts on herself to keep everyone around her alive. I think they’d both be on good terms with their troopers, Montym would take a bit longer, he’s quiet and a bit...odd, but when he likes people he makes it clear. Thomsyn would get close to them quickly, and each death would hit her pretty hard.

9. If Imperial - what would they think of the complete lack of sith and excess of droids in the Separatist army?

Viticalia has soooo many problems about tradition with the way the Sith operate, but in particular thinks the CIS is...stupid. The idea of a civil war is fine, sure, but their execution is lacking. Bel thinks they’re stupid but also finds it very funny. Terrible tactics, questionable leadership, not a good spy in sight... but he also thinks the way the Republic has alienated so many of their own...well he’s seen it before with Imperial worlds, and after Saresh it isn’t surprising. He’s largely disillusioned and just wishes someone would learn from their mistakes already. Part of what would push him to join the Republic in this case would be that he values peoples lives a lot more than droids, and he hasn’t valued the Sith as leaders in a long time, so he has no reason to go to the CIS and as far as he’s concerned, Republics got the better chance.

10. Consider they were born in this era - where would they fit in Clone Wars canon?

This I’ve actually thought about this a bit. Thomsyn and Montym would be still pretty much the same, Jedi, although Thomsyn would not have joined the Grey Jedi in that AU as she would be more accustomed to what this Republic is like. Viticalia I would go with a Jedi who leaves the order eventually, simply because it would be really fun to explore a much more light-sided Vits. Bel’s a bit more difficult to place, in a society that doesn’t put as much importance on genetics and perfection, he would have the chance to do whatever he liked, which he didn’t in the Empire. In an au that follows his canon life a little better, he would probably join the SIS, but more likely as an anaylst or undercover agent, not as a sniper and agent.

Honestly time travel and born in that era, they’re def aus I’ve thought about writing

#tag meme #Viticalia Volcatius #Belville Abelard #Thomsyn #Montym #swtor #my ocs #swtor ocs #thank you for tagging me!#this was really fun #and I adore these au musings

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skippyv20 · 5 years

Text

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻PF INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON … “ You are part of this monarchy, you WILL adhere to its traditions”…… “ her past, so embarrassing!!”…… Rogue PR…… “we’ve “cleaned” her phone ma’am”…… “ I fear it’s still out there”…… promoting the impossible …… “ give this one to William” “ thank goodness we have one classic beauty,old thing “ …… “ is Charles thinking of leap-frogging to William ,Philip?”……” my teams made arrangements “…… “shut up!! It’s my Duty!!”…… 🎼” to dream the impossible dream “🎼……”total meltdown sweetie”

💜💜💜🙏🏻🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻🙏🏻💜💜💜

November 2/2019 1510 hrs CST RIDDLE #105

“ You are part of this monarchy, you WILL adhere to its traditions”

Notice what’s NOT said, family, you’re part of this Monarchy NOT you’re part of this family!! Very clear distinct difference. Until there is an annulment or divorce she has her role as Duchess of blah blah.

Madam has been hiding behind wigs, trees, apron strings, ANYTHING to avoid appearance in public at a public event because she is a coward. She lays and sets off the dynamite but wants no part of its after effects amongst the citizens. I spend many times wishing l were a fly on the wall but THIS oh oh l would pay money to have seen this scene. She is being told by LG, or quite possibly by the wordage and the way it’s phrased by HMTQ Herself, that she in no uncertain terms will attend public appearances for RS or RD services. Now she thinks this is all about her, this is about all of the Fallen , veterans, injured and their families. I think emotions are raw all around for people this time of year. I hope she is gone by then, but this could also refer to the NATO dinner in December. She needs to conduct herself accordingly. I think since her phone was cleaned, there is a fair bit more confidence in pushing her to do things, ultimately hoping a huge public moment of reality/embarrassment for her. The sad thing, a true narcissist is incapable of embarrassment, self pity absolutely, but not embarrassment!

“ her past, so embarrassing!!”

We don’t know , many years are missing/lost, what she did during those years. We do have enough knowledge of yachting, porn, disgusting acts, selling her body, heart, soul, filth beyond what any decent mind could fathom! Hobbies of all sorts, mostly allegedly outside the law. The normal woman would be ashamed and would be embarrassed by, as the speaker of these words is, but a true narcissist madam is, a million lies juggling all at once, l do not know how it’s kept straight, well it’s not that’s why there are always so many mistakes she makes.

Rogue PR

SS has been nothing if not Rogue, going where none have gone before. I dare say they may continue, and more insinuating lies be spread about our Royals. Be prepared, this fight is in the gutter, it rose from there, and will be sent back from whence it came.

“we’ve “cleaned” her phone ma’am”

LG informing HMTQ that madams lost phone was not lost at all but it decided to turn itself in🤣🤣😂😂. All that she kept on their has been removed aka cleaned. We have discussed this awhile ago. Amongst the world of the men in grey, there are many varied services they do. Cleaning or scrubbing a phone is one such service. Any incriminating recordings or photos or videos or emails or texts or stone tablets, EVERYTHING is cleaned off. Knowing they are not dealing with brightest tool in the shed, she probably didn’t back up her information.

“ I fear it’s still out there”

Whatever secret, private, perhaps sexual content video that was cleaned off the phone, HMTQ is still fearing a copy is still in someone’s possession. There is something specific of concern, l have no idea what it is, but it’s of high concern and worry that “it” still out there.

promoting the impossible

Promoting the happy marriage, just H🤣🤣🤣😂😂 and madam against the world. Well H is Prince Harry, his family has fully encircled him, and he is done being threatened by her and whatever was on her phone. SS is still at it, making madam ever the spontaneous soul who loves to flit like a hummingbird quietly to a charity bakery, using no gloves, making an interview from 18 months seem as though it were current but was not. Making it seem like lunch meeting in a restaurant when it wasn’t, it was in a room at the bakery. Never the truth, everything always twisted. Why must everything even such inconsequential things be lied about. BECAUSE the agenda and the person are evil.!Thats why!

“ give this one to William”

We have had this exact clue before. I can’t recall what l thought at the time, but l think having a sit down with madam, telling her face to face things are done, William would do very well and after all the lies madam allegedly spread about his marriage, l think he would take a certain amount of satisfaction in showing her from the palace door to the alleged paddy wagon.

“ thank goodness we have one classic beauty,old thing “ “ is Charles thinking of leap-frogging to William ,Philip?”

Again, my favourite scene, 🔥 fireplace lit, evening relaxing clothes, 📺 on, cocktails 🍸 in hand talking between HMTQ and PP. PP reflecting on the amazing blessing of having Catherine in the family, not just in the family but at William’s side, raising their family, such a solid level-headed woman. In them the future of the modern Monarchy is strong. HMTQ talking about Prince Charles passing over his being King going straight to William. This has been discussed before, initially because the public had a strong distaste for Camilla. That has settled now, she is accepted. Charles, his age, given all that has happened, may well be pondering the 21st century Monarchy needs William.

” my teams made arrangements “

LG team have made arrangements for what? To move madam? Pack her stuff up? Take her to Heathrow, put her on a plane? If she goes to America for their Thanksgiving, where would she go, she has no friends, Doria? Would she want to return to the U.K. after that, would they even let her in?? Doria, who now has 8 million in her bank account, why would she want saddled with madam?, she didn’t look after her as a child why would she now? Madam has ghosted anybody who actually loved and cared for her. It’s pathetically sad broken life. Legal issues, taxes?? And on and on, then of course there is the wee matter of alleged Treason, the of the body law, and any alleged procuring of females in those lost years.

“shut up!! It’s my Duty!!”

Harry , God bless you, has resumed duty. How fine did he look in a Japan, Prince Albert of Monaco, the Japanese Crown Prince Akishino, the son of the Emperor. I am in tears so happy, he looks so happy and well. I think he has gained back some weight and has rested. Now to this clue. It can only be madam he is talking to. She is yammering away at him, he telling her in no uncertain terms he will do his Duty! She is probably pleading to not have to attend RD or RS services, he has made his Duty clear! Of all things now to pick a fight over? When he missed a military attack anniversary and got roasted badly for that. He is clear headed now, and putting things right.

🎼” to dream the impossible dream “🎼

This is Ol Blue Eyes, My Way. Jerry Lewis used to always sing this at the end of the Labour Day MDS telethon, until he was deemed too old and not politically correct enough for the charity and after over 40 years raising hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars,they yanked the annual telethon. I still am upset by that. Anyhow, if there every was a song for a narcissist the title My Way for sure. Everything at a cost of a country , Commonwealth, everything, lack of respect she has done her way!

As for Prince Harry, he probably thought this would go on forever and being free from her would be an impossible dream.

Well, l think we are so close to the end, l can taste it! I could not be happier! If l were a dog, my tail would be wagging!

”total meltdown sweetie”

Reality is going to hit her hard. She has nothing, no one, all her Hollywood friends were sycophants, her backers are filthy rich, they don’t care about her, she was a means to an end. That’s all she has ever been, years selling herself a means to some mans ending. Her mental status, likely is going to hit the wall. Total meltdown exactly. I hope it happens in America, they have phone lines there to get help.

November 2/2019

1635 hrs CST

Love this! We are making progress......her phone....too funny, thank you dear PG, so appreciate it....😊💜💜💜💜💜💜

#Ask Skippy #submission

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1057

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - When was the last time you had a roast dinner? What kind of meat or vegetarian option did you have with it? That’s not really a thing we do here, but for our noche buena dinner we did have roast chicken with rosemary as one of our dishes. It was surrounded with bangus (milkfish), lumpia with cheese, callos, baked macaroni with cheese, and mashed potatoes with gravy. My family has never been traditional when it comes to Christmas food and I’ve never tried hamon or queso de bola.

2 - When was the last time you drove or travelled for over an hour? Where did you go? It is for sure going to be today because we’ll be driving to Laguna to visit my dad’s family wearing our face masks, face shields, equipped with alcohol and hand sanitizer, and ready to follow social distancing.

3 - What’s your favourite kind of coffee to order (eg. cappuccino, latte etc.)? I’ve been ordering caramel macchiato in the last...6–7 years. If a coffee shop doesn’t serve it, the next thing I go for is whatever sounds like the sweetest drink on their menu, like a chocolate chip truffle frappe or something like that.

4 - When you get old, are you going to let your hair go grey or dye it instead? I will probably dye it for a bit, like what my grandma used to do. But I guess it’ll also depend; I might end up liking grey hair and not feel the need to change how it looks.

5 - What genre was the last book you read? Was it any good? I can’t remember which one it was but it was definitely a wrestler’s memoir; I must’ve read around four this year. The best ones I read are always of Chris Jericho since he has fantastic stories but he also knows how to write well. A lot of wrestlers have great stories, but are so-so in writing.

6 - Did you ever wear braces on your teeth? Yeah, briefly from the end of middle school to freshman year of high school. I need to get braces again, though.

7 - When was the last time you were relieved about something? What caused you to feel that way? Continued from earlier today. We brought both dogs to my dad’s family’s place today and I was glad that they were fast asleep on our drive back home and that neither felt bad and puked.

8 - Where was the last place you went that required you to wear a mask? Are you used to having to wear one now? Everyone is required to wear masks as long as they find themselves outdoors, period. I wear one even if I’m just walking one of my dogs in our backyard. I’m definitely more used to it now, compared to months ago when I had just started going out again and would be forgetful when it came to masks.

9 - How often do you receive calls from unknown numbers? Do you ever answer them? I get them a lot more often now that I’m working and have to coordinate with third-party people...I get unknown numbers once or twice a week. As much as it irritates me, I have no choice but to answer all of them now.

10 - What’s your favourite condiment to have with sausages or hot dogs (or the vegetarian equivalent)? Whenever I have a sausage/hotdog in a bun, I’d be glad to simply have mayonnaise on it.

11 - Which fictional character can you relate to the most? Is this a character from film, TV or a book? Monica Geller from Friends.

12 - Do you groom your eyebrows? If so, how? Nah, haven’t in a long time. It’s just not something I’ve ever particularly cared about. Whenever I have to, I just shave them. I also haven’t had a trichotillomania episode with my eyebrows, which is a relieving thing to realize.

13 - Did you get “told off” for anything the last time you went to the dentist or was everything okay? My last trip went smoothly. I just had a tooth extracted and there wasn’t really anything to reprimand me for since the tooth was already damaged.

14 - Would you rather get a starter or dessert? Have always been more of a savory girl than sweet, so I’ll go with the starter.

15 - Have you ever been involved with the police? Did you find them to be helpful? I mean...I guess? Kind of? I wasn’t arrested by any means, but I was a journalism student, so *shrug* pretty self-explanatory lol. There was one time in one class where we were all required to write a story covering the police beat, so I had to stay at a police station in Manila and wait for any tips or leads to come in. I was in freshman year and was absolutely scared, but I did have a classmate/friend with me ‘cause we were in the same class and she needed a lead as well.

16 - Are you tired at the moment? Is there a specific reason you feel that way? I am extremely tired and would pass out in a second if I let myself. But I had been out all day and didn’t have the chance to do anything I wanted to do whether it was doing embroidery, watching 2 Days 1 Night, or taking a survey, so I’m making up for all the lost time and powering through this survey.

17 - Are you big on colour coordination? Does that just apply to your outfits or to the rest of your life as well? It rarely comes to mind. It’s not something I feel the need to maintain, precisely because I’m very inconsistent with maintenance. Even though I know I possess the necessary effort and patience to organize a group of items by color, I also know it would be disorganized in less than a week.

18 - What shoes did you last wear? How long have you had them? Puma sneakers. Yep, I’ve had them for the past two years.

19 - When was the last time you wore make-up? What kind of make-up was it? September, for my first job interview. My items were simple; just an eyeliner pencil and some lip gloss.

20 - Have you ever slipped or skidded on the ice? Did you end up getting hurt? Continued from last night because I’ve been so sloppy at taking surveys lately, loooool. I’ve slipped a few times on ice skating rinks before. I don’t know if it’s the same experience, but whenever it happened to me I usually felt more embarrassed than hurt. It only hurt quite a bit when the cause of my fall was crashing into someone on the rink.

21 - Do you wear glasses or contacts? I wear glasses, but I already need to change mine since my eyesight has gotten worse and the lens that are on my current pair aren’t for me anymore.

22 - Do you own any photo albums? Are they dedicated to special occasions or just a random selection of photos? My mom made several photo albums for her kids from our childhood days so each of us have lots of photos from age 0 to about 7 or 8. I haven’t made a photo album just for myself, though I really should. Making memories with a film camera and having them developed still sounds very appealing to me.

23 - What was the last reason for you using a spoon? I was mixing my coffee to make sure all the granules are mixed into the water.

24 - Did your state/region go into lockdown or similar back when Covid hit in March? What did you do to pass the time while you were stuck at home? Of course. I would be more surprised to hear of a city or region anywhere in the world that did not go into lockdown. March was a livelier, more optimistic time, so I tried out lots of new things while the lockdown was still fresh and no one had any clue for how long it would actually pan out, and continue to pan out until the literal end of the year. I played the Switch for longer hours, tried making dalgona coffee, watched Descendants of the Sun, pulled more all-nighters, revisited computer games from my childhood, and did my thesis chapter by chapter with Andi.

25 - What’s your favourite meal of the day - breakfast, lunch or dinner? In my family, lunch and dinner are very identical so I’d go with either of them.

26 - Who was the last person you texted? How do you know that person? I have not touched my phone in a while, believe it or not...I haven’t needed it much during the holiday break. I think it was my cousin? He’s a relative, so I’ve known him since birth.

27 - What was the last thing you put in a sandwich? A hotdog.

28 - What was the reason behind the last time you shouted or raised your voice? I was at my dad’s family’s last night and I had ordered four boxes of empanadas from their business, and I was trying to hand over the P500 bill to my aunt (the total was like P300, but I gave them bonus to serve as my treat and my gift). I kept trying to give it and she kept rejecting it and putting it back in my pocket hahaha, so it became like a game for me to see which tiny space in the house I can squeeze the bill in so she can stop retorting. It turned into a funny cat and mouse situation and I ended up raising my voice a few times.

29 - Are you a citizen of more than one country? Would you ever use that advantage to move abroad? No.

30 - Do you know how to change a tyre? Could you do it without help? HAH, no. I am fucked if it ever happens and when it does, I really hope luck would be on my side that day and have a kind stranger that knows how to change tyres walk or drive by.

#survey #surveys

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doctorgerth · 5 years

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Hello love~! I'm here to request wedding headcanons for Zoro, Sabo and Ace~

These were so cute and fun to write!! Hope you enjoy, my dear friend ~

Wedding HCs for Zoro, Sabo, and Ace

Zoro:

- nervous as HELL

- he doesn’t show it, remaining as stoic as ever, but he is sweating buckets in that suit!

- it’s not that he has cold feet, he just hadn’t imagined he’d ever commit to someone forever like this

- but, he fell for you in such a way, immediately knowing that you two were meant to be together until the end of time

- he would’ve been fine without any ceremony, but he knows a wedding means a lot to you, so of course he said yes to the idea

- the crew really wanted to throw you an extravagant wedding, but both you and Zoro agreed on a small ceremony on the Sunny

- he begged Nami and Robin for help to plan and design the entire thing, since he has no fucking clue what he’s doing, and Nami complied (with only a small fee)

- Nami and Sanji (lol) are your bridesmaids, with Robin being the maid of honor!

- Usopp and Franky are the groomsmen, with Luffy being the best man!

- Zoro is the one who asked (dared? demanded?) Sanji to be your other bridesmaid and he only agreed if he could also escort you down the aisle

- Zoro complied though he was definitely hesitant; the idea of the ero-cook being arm and arm with his future bride before he could even lay eyes on her makes his blood boil

- Brook is of course playing sweet music on his violin

- Chopper is the ring bearer and flower child (let it be known he is absolutely adorable in his little suit!!)

- Jinbe is the officiant!

- it’s a wonderful ceremony because the entire crew is actually dressed to the nines! Franky still isn’t wearing pants, but he does look fancy from the waist up!

- Zoro is as handsome as ever, in a full grey suit; his cherished swords aren’t decorated around his waist for once, but they are laid aside in his line of sight of course

- once Brook starts playing the traditional wedding song, Zoro perks up, craning his neck to look for you

- his breathing and heart rate increase rapidly; it’s time and he is about to e x p l o d e

- it takes a lot for Zoro to get nervous, why is he on the verge of hyperventilation??

- what if you see him and change your mind? what if he can’t really make you happy for the rest of his life? what if you realize there’s someone way better out there? what if you realize you don’t actually love him…?

- Luffy notices Zoro’s apprehension and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering him an ear to ear smile to let him know everything will be okay!

- the blinding pure white of your dress instantly catches Zoro eye

- your beauty and grace somehow makes every single one of his fears disappear

- he even completely dismisses the fact that you’re linked arms with that shitty cook

- you look up at him with the most loving eyes and he questions how he could have ever doubted the love you have between each other; a kind of love that is meant to withstand anything and everything

- Zoro hardly even listens to anything that comes out of Jinbe’s mouth, he’s just too focused on you and your genuine, happy smile

- once you are officially proclaimed as Mr. and Mrs. Roronoa Zoro, he grabs you instantly lifts you up into a passionate kiss

- the entire crew erupts into applause - both Franky and Sanji are weeping - and the real party begins!

- you end the ceremony with a lavish and lively party full of booze, food, music, and friends

- the honeymoon is postponed, since as usual with your crew’s luck, the marines have arrived; they caught word of the wedding and are now surrounding you, planning on a capture

- you finish off your wedding day with fighting and escaping the marines together as newlyweds!

Sabo:

- marrying a man from a generally pretty secretive group, it’s no surprise that this ceremony is low-key and a secret to the world

- the only people in attendance are you, Sabo, and the Revolutionaries

- Ivankov insists you get married in the forest of Kamabakka Kingdom, since the pink flowers and leaves of the trees serve as an elegant backdrop/atmosphere

- you agree, as long as the Kamabakka people do not cause any disruptions

- spoiler: they’re hiding in the bushes and trees during the entire ceremony!

- the set up is basic: a few white chairs are set up in order, facing a simple arch decorated with the most beautiful flowers from the island

- the only lavish things about the wedding are the outfits

- Sabo is dressed head to toe in a handsome coal-black suit (with a matching top hat of course!); his sunny blonde hair and bright blue eyes really pop against the darkness of his suit!

- your dress is long, flowing, and pearly white

- Inazuma and a few other Kamabakka citizens helped to get you ready

- Koala wanted to murder Sabo as he was just impossible; he wouldn’t stand still for her, he was just too jittery and eager to see you!

- the ceremony begins and Sabo is as ready as ever; he won’t lie, he is a little nervous, but he knows seeing your loving face will make him feel better

- Koala is your maid of honor; she proudly holds your lengthy train as you walk down the aisle with Dragon, who is escorting you

- Hack stands next to Sabo as his best man

- Ivankov is elated to be the officiant, though you and Sabo had to make him promise he wouldn’t go over the top during the ceremony

- luckily, everything goes perfectly during the wedding

- Sabo’s face is threatening to freeze into his toothy smile, but he is just so happy to finally see you

- the exchange of your vows really makes the audience tear up

- Sabo isn’t even looking at his vow papers anymore; the words he’s wanting you to hear spill effortlessly from his heart

- he’s just staring into your eyes, telling you precisely how in love with you he is and how he promises to love you for the rest of his days and beyond

- happy tears begin to prick your eyes, causing few to fill his eyes as well

- he takes your hands in his once more as the final words he’s been dying to hear all day are said: ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.’

- Sabo doesn’t even hesitate as he takes hold of your blushing cheeks into his gloved hands to grab your lips in a romantic kiss

- you can taste the saltiness of your tears (or are they his?) flowing down your cheeks; Sabo smiles joyfully against your lips

- this causes the people of Kamabakka to erupt into applause and rush forward from their hiding places

- amidst the chaos, a party ensues, but Sabo finds you and discreetly leads you two away

- he takes you to a solitary beach to enjoy some peace and quiet as husband and wife

- it seems he had planned this moment, as a checkered blanket and a single lit candle are waiting for you

- no words are said between you two; you sit down on the blanket together while he pulls your back into his chest, wrapping his arms around you

- you watch the blazing sun go down into the vast sea while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear

- he makes loves to you on that beach, calling you his dear wife over and over again, never once getting tired of hearing you call him your husband

Ace:

- The Whitebeard Pirates do not accept small ceremonies

- your wedding is gonna be so extravagant, everyone will hear about it!; it’ll be in all the newspapers!

- you and Ace accept this with great gratitude, and you two are never asked to do anything

- Marco surprisingly takes complete control in the wedding planning and honestly, you’d think he was the bride-zilla

- Izo is of course in charge of your hair and make up, and he makes you look absolutely stunning

- Jozu and Vista have to hold Ace down while Izo makes some “touches” to his face and hair

- Marco and Izo both want to strangle Ace for thinking he could wear his hat during the ceremony

- the entire ship is lively with crew members and even some elite guests (the Straw Hats and the Red Hair Pirates to name a few)

- Luffy is beyond excited to have and call you his sister!

- it is known around the world as the wedding of the century! Pops wants nothing but the best for his son and now daughter!

- he is beyond excited to accept you into the family and is already pushing for grandkids

- Ace is a little nervous, but he’s mostly beaming in that handsome white suit of his!

- you two had talked beforehand about this commitment, since you two are pretty young, and you both have insecurities

- but you two are so crazy for each other and know you are 100% ready and eager for this next step in your lives! (also Marco put way too much effort and stress into this wedding so it is definitely happening)

- seeing you walk down the aisle in that gorgeous white dress of yours, Ace has to really fight the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks

- this is really happening; he’s marrying the woman of his dreams!

- he’s so overwhelmed with emotions, knowing you are just as in love with him as he is you; he never thought he would find a love as true and unbreakable as yours!

- he really has to suppress himself for kissing you right there before the officiant can even start the ceremony

- but once he gets to kiss you, he almost tackles you!

- you two stumble backwards, causing his arm to catch your waist and he is dipping you into a deep and heated kiss!

- the biggest party erupts immediately after the announcement of Mr. and Mrs. Portgas Ace!

- though you tried to turn down the offer, Pops practically forces you to take a honeymoon trip

- he provides a small boat and your bags are already packed!

- Ace takes you to an island known for their fancy restaurants and beautiful beaches

- you two spend a week doing nothing but making sweet love, adventuring the island, and relishing in the fact that you are now officially husband and wife!

#doctorgerth #doc writes #one piece #hcs #fluff #romantic #wedding #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #sabo #sabo x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #f!reader #doflomingos-glasses

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marvel-lous-things · 5 years

Text

Promises

AN: reposting because tungle.hell is a little bitch that messed up the read more link on this and doesn’t deserve rights.

Words:

Relationships: Family fluff, Pepperony, mentions of Peter’s crush on Harley

Prompt: “Every month everyone has a get together at the pepperony cabin and they have dinner together. Happy grills cheeseburgers for the kids (Morgan, Clint’s boys, Peter, Lila, Cassie, Harley) and they play outside until it gets dark, the older kids giving the younger ones piggy back rides and everyone eating juice pops. Steve is inside, bantering with Bucky and Sam, like the old times. Pepper wishes Tony would be here to see it all.”

—-

It was tradition, at this point, for everyone to meet up in Pepper’s old cabin (she had since moved to New York) on the first Sunday of each month.

It had begun with a miscommunication. Steve had texted Bruce that he’d be visiting Pepper to check on her and Morgan, on that fateful day a little over a year ago. Somehow, Bruce had interpreted that as “Gather the whole gang, we’re gonna collectively show up at Pepper’s cabin with 35 assorted presents.”

It was a little odd the first time round, what with Bruce apologizing profusely for goofing up, and the cabin being too small to hold everyone while also allowing them some personal space. But she’d decided she liked having them all around. Might as well do it again.

14 months and 14 barbecue meet ups later, everyone looked forward to driving out there for a nice evening of grilled food and banter. And the occasional explosion. To be fair, when you throw two brilliant, reckless, science-loving teenagers and an equally brilliant, reckless, science-loving little girl together, explosions can (and will) occur.

Which is why Happy was very loudly arguing with Harley over using his “new and improved” grill rather than the usual one from Happy’s garage, which was decidedly safer and less daunting to use. To top it off, the damn thing was shaped like a nuke.

Elsewhere, the younger kids were having their own argument, except theirs had a little less to do with barbecue grills.

“Morgan,” Pepper called out, noticing the commotion, “it’s Cooper’s turn now, sweetheart.”

“But mom-”

“Give it to him.”

“Just a minute!”

“Morgan.”

The 6 year old turned around, gave her mom the most heart-achingly adorable pout, and begrudgingly handed her brand new nerf gun to the older boy (a very well received gift from May). They’d been going at it all evening, shooting empty soda cans off rocks, tree branches, and at one point, Peter’s head.

Steve smiled, watching Barton’s kid shoot a can off Harley’s bike from 10 meters away. And then immediately panicking after realizing the can was actually full. And probably belonged to Harley.

“Kid’s good with a gun, Clint,” Steve noted.

“Scared he won’t take after his dad?”

The glare he received from the arrow enthusiast was borderline terrifying.

“We’ve just got killer aim, Rogers, it ain’t about the weapon. Hand me a gun, stand across the lake, and I’ll show you.”

Pepper laughed, throwing Clint a grape flavored juice pop (his favorite kind).

“Nobody’s murdering anybody in my house, alright?”

Just before Clint could catch his dessert, though, a web shot out from behind the couch and snatched the sugar infused stick of ice right out of mid air. The web then proceeded to disappear as quickly as it came.

“Well, actually, Pepper,” said a youthful voice, no doubt belonging to the pop thief,

“the murder would happen outside the house, so technically-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you give that back right now or you’re grounded for a month.”

Peter winced. Busted.

“He can get himself another one, May!” He tried (in vain).

“There’s a whole freezer full of em right outside-”

“Peter.”

May raised her eyebrow at him. Ah, there it was. The look of devastating disapproval. A look nobody could stand to receive, let alone Peter “I cried watching Big Hero 6″ Parker.

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, back flipping over the armrest; a completely extravagant and unnecessary move that was only carried out in case Harley was watching. Peter had been trying his absolute best to get Harley’s attention off late. He told May that it was because he wanted to prove that “he’s the alpha” (May thought her disaster of a son simply wanted to impress his crush. She was right).

20 lazy footsteps and an annoyed huff later, the juice pop was slid across the kitchen counter, right into Clint’s open hand.

When it was, regrettably, immediately snatched away by Lila.

Clint blinked. “Can’t catch a damn break, can I?”

Laura laughed, planting a reassuring kiss on her husband’s cheek. She’d learned over the past year that Clint had turned to vigilante justice to deal with his feelings of anger and helplessness. She couldn’t have him hunting down members of the Ukrainian mafia over popsicles.

“Calm down, drama queen, I’m sure there’s more in the ice box-”

“WHO TOOK ALL THE DAMN GRAPE JUICE POPS?” Captain America yelled from outside. A sound that was immediately followed by a very ungraceful pterodactyl-like screech, and Clint putting his head in his hands.

“…or maybe not.” She winced.

That was the exact moment Bucky took to walk down the stairs. a sticky purple mess gracing his face. He stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, and just this once, he was sure it wasn’t because they were admiring his beauty.

His eyes darted around the room, making note of Clint’s deep resignation, Pepper’s terrible poker face, May’s grimace, and Steve nearly falling off his chair in sheer amusement.

He wasn’t fully sure how to proceed.

“Uh…”

He looked around the room again, hoping it would give him answers.

It didn’t.

“…what’s up?”

Steve actually did fall over at this point, prompting Peter to scream something about senior citizen needing help, followed by Cassie dialing 911 on Morgan’s old toy telephone. Neither of which helped him make sense of what was going on. Although, he had to admit, it was a little funny.

Bucky’s question, however, was answered when Sam entered the kitchen with the force of a very disgruntled wildebeest. He looked around wildly, until his eyes fell on Bucky and his incredibly purple grin.

“You,” Sam glowered.

“Me,” Bucky replied sweetly, slowly wiping the purple dye off his mouth with his sleeve. Which, of course, only served to drive Sam further up the wall.

“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GRAPE!”

“True, true.” Bucky shrugged.

“I do love pissing you off, though.”

What followed after was Sam chasing Bucky out into the woods, brandishing his shield and yelling something about how “this shield ain’t only for defending, I’ll star spangle whoop your ass you dick, come back here.”

Clint followed a minute later, on a quest to avenge his stolen popsicle

(This was after they were pointedly told by Pepper to take their battle outside, they’d lost enough vases over the year to the kids’ antics as it were).

Steve eventually found the strength to get back on his chair, and throw an apple in Harley’s general direction. Which was warranted, because the kid kept yelling “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” in this ridiculous (and frankly, offensive) “old man voice” while Steve did, in fact, struggle to get up.

He briefly wondered how pleased Tony would be to see Captain Perfect struggling with real, human issues, like achy joints and a sore back. Almost as if she’d read his mind, Pepper voiced his thoughts.

“Tony would’ve loved to see you dealing with elderly-man problems, you know.” She laughed. “The number of times he’d complain that ‘Steve goddamn Rogers’ doesn’t suffer from a single grey hair even at the age of 100, while he did even though he was only 50.”

She made air quotes around the “only.”

“Took a lot of convincing for him to let it grow out, you know, instead of hiding it behind dye after dye,” she rolled her eyes, “he looked at me like I’d told him to give Morgan up for adoption.”

Steve laughed softly. “A herculean effort, I’m sure.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

Pepper remembered that conversation clear as day, like it had happened just days ago. Partly because she’d never had to convince someone who was once labelled “Sexiest Man Alive” by Times magazine that he would still be attractive with grey hair, until that strange, strange day, and partly because the method of convincing she’d opted for was… unusual, a little unexpected. But not unwelcome, for sure

(He’d told her as much the next morning, wearing a stupidly lopsided grin, but no shirt)

Washing the dye off her fingers had been a pain in the ass though. She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to letting her color his hair grey. Morgan had shrieked seeing her daddy with “weird hair” (her words), which was not good for the case Pepper was making. But she had eventually warmed up to the new look. She even told Tony he looked nice, of her own accord. After which Pepper had walked in on Tony hugging his daughter and her struggling to get out of the death grip he had on her.

Pepper was snapped out of her reverie when Steve spoke up again.

“Who’s to say he isn’t seeing it, though?”

Pepper blinked. She wasn’t one to space out often, but when she did, she was disturbingly thorough.

“Sorry?”

“Tony, watching us,” Steve took a deep breath, “laughing at me struggling with weak hipbones, watching over you, Morgan, Peter…” He looked down at his mug of coffee, that had long since gone empty

“You never know.”

Pepper couldn’t quite place the look on his face just then. Somewhere between sad and hopeful, she supposed.

“You never know,” she repeated under her breath, more to herself than to him.

Steve heard it anyway, and smiled softly at her, before turning to look at the picture Pepper had framed on the living room wall. A picture of her, Tony, and Morgan, taken at the beach. Morgan was on his shoulders, maybe 3, 4 years old then. His right arm was wrapped around Pepper’s shoulder, her left arm around his waist. All three wore contented smiles, Tony’s and Morgan’s achingly similar.

No Iron Man, no arc reactor, no intense, murderous stare, like the hundreds of pictures that had graced every magazine in existence, for a month after his death.

Just plain, good old Tony Stark. The part of him he kept hidden from the world, reserved only for the people he loved.

It was the only picture that did him justice, Steve thought.

“I wish he could see you now, Pepper,” he turned back to her, half his mouth upturned in a small smile, “see how well his two favorite girls are doing.”

Pepper chuckled, gently placing her hand on Steve’s.

“Oh, he knows,” she nodded, twirling the ring that still adorned her finger.

“I promised him we’d be fine.”

xxxxx

my adhd ass jumping from prompt to prompt: parkour

anyway, thanks for reading

#i hate this website #endgame spoilers #marvel #endgame #avengers endgame #tony stark #pepper potts #pepperony #steve rogers #peter parker #morgan stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #marvel fanfcition #mcu #sam attempts writing

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