#Silver would also be another welcome judge

[sorrygotthesesacks]

I posted a thread of times when Ace has said “bang it out” over on That Other App so I figured I’d post it here, too.

Happy Birthday to one of my fave (but not my very fave) judges!

I'd wanted to bang this out last year (if you're wondering why I'm bringing up the Culinary Crucible when we haven't even had it yet, it's because this has been in my drafts since 2023), but we can't all be Ace Trappola.

I mean...

I'm working on it, Birthday Boy!

Of course, there was also the time that you did the same - exhibit 1:

Ace really is just the archetype of the average teen, isn't he?

Even his groovification line!

And finally...

🥳

Good job, Ace! Happy birthday!

[somefanchick]

-Rollo's Angelic Obsession-

(This story is from Rollo's perspective during the events of the visit to Nobel Bell College. I only know information from the English server story and events so sorry if anything is terribly out of character. This fic is cannon for my female Yuu-sona, but I do just call them Yuu in the story. Yuu uses she/her pronouns. Hope you enjoy! TW: Rollo is obsessive and Delulu with a major crush on Yuu. Found the banner pictures in a post by @ raven-at-the-writing-desk, they are not mine. I got the event book 1 transcripts from the Wiki, and the book 3 transcripts from @ kanasmusings!)

It was disgusting. The headmaster of Night Raven called to inform us that his group of ten had grown to thirteen, not including the chaperone. I had requested Malleus Draconia so I could execute my plan, but to add two more students to the group was borderline infuriating. I didn’t even have the time to see how powerful these other students were, or who they were. I had no idea if they would be an issue or if it would be better to rid the world of them like the others. The only information the headmaster gave on them was that they counted as one student, and that one of them was magicless. That last note made me somewhat hopeful.

The portal lit up and all of the students stepped through. I recognized each and every one of them, so I assumed the new ones were tucked behind the others. I even recognize the chaperone. None of them were a threat. None of them were pure. They all would burn.

“I've been expecting you,” I stepped out of the shadows, vice president and aide on my left and right, “ Esteemed guests from Night Raven College, welcome to Noble Bell College.”

Mozus Trein, the chaperone, spoke in a tone much like my own, “Judging by your uniform, you must be the student the headmage mentioned.”

“That's right,” I put my handkerchief over my mouth for a moment before speaking again, “My name is Rollo Flamme. I serve as the student council president here.”

Riddle Rosehearts was the next to speak, “Oh, interesting. Our school doesn't have an independent student council, but it sounds like you all do.”

I removed the cloth from my lips, “Indeed. And while it may sound presumptuous, one could call it the face of our school. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Idia Shroud’s voice was shrill with surprise or fear, “Ack! Immediate encounter with strangers!”

Azul Ashengrotto seemed equally annoyed and used to the outburst, “Isn't the whole point of this social to meet strangers?”

I could hear some of the freshmen mumbling to themselves, about me undoubtedly. I pressed on, “This is our vice president, and this is our aide. When they heard they could meet with such an esteemed group, they dropped everything and came running. The entirety of Noble Bell College welcomes you. Our school is small compared to yours, and you may find it lacking in some ways, but we beg your indulgence.”

Trein looked like he could almost smile, “How courteous. You have impeccable manners for someone so young.”

Deuce Spade whispered to Silver, a guard of Malleus Draconia, I kept speaking, “We couldn't allow you to keep hauling your luggage around, of course. Let me show you to your rooms. I'm afraid it's a bit of a walk. We can use it as an opportunity to get better acquainted, though.”

I began leading the group forward as Idia Shroud made another winey comment. They were infuriating, and I hadn’t even gotten a glance at the unexpected visitors. They all deserved death.

Azul Ashengrotto made his way to the front with me, “So you're a junior. I imagine it's quite an honor being student council president, considering there can only be one in the whole school. I'm sure your academic performance is also superb and will guarantee you a promising future.”

I tried not to grit my teeth, “Noble Bell simply has a smaller student body. I can hardly compare to those of you from the great Night Raven College.”

Ashengrotto coated his words in flattery, just as we had done with their headmaster, “Please, you needn't be so humble or formal. Why, you're technically my upperclassman! Everyone at my school would be overjoyed to acquaint themselves with such a fine individual.”

I hummed as if amusing the idea, “All right, as you wish. I won't stand on ceremony so much.”

Ashengrotto got involved in a side conversation with Shroud. Leaving me to do nothing but move forward and suppress the urge to strike them down where they stood.

“Ah, but where are my manners? I've gotten ahead of myself,” Ashengrotto pulled himself back to me, “Apologies for the belated introduction. I'm-”

“Introductions won't be necessary,” I waved it off, bringing my handkerchief back to my lips, “I already know who all of you are. You're Azul Ashengrotto, housewarden of Octavinelle and a merman from the Coral Sea,” I kept going, “And you're Idia Shroud, housewarden of Ignihyde and affiliated somehow with the Shroud family. And you-!” I quickly kept myself from flying off the handle at the sight of that Fae, “You are Malleus Draconia, scion of the ruling fae in Briar Valley and one of the top five mages in the world. Correct?”

I felt sick as he smiled, “Indeed, I am Malleus Draconia.”

Sebek Zigvolt butted into the conversation, “Of course the great Malleus would be known even in such a tiny burg!”

I lowered my handkerchief once more, “You are Sebek Zigvolt, and you hail from the same land as Malleus. The one next to you is Silver. And over there chatting with our vice president is Riddle Rosehearts, housewarden of Heartslabyl, Rook Hunt, vice housewarden of Pomefiore, Jamil Viper, vice housewarden of Scarabia, Ruggie Bucchi, Deuce Spade, and Epel Felmier. I thoroughly perused the documents Mr. Crowley so kindly sent, you see.”

Ashengrotto’s eyes were almost wide, “It's like privacy's a foreign concept to that man-”

Shroud gave me a dirty look, unacceptable, “That could get you sued in this day and age.”

Silver almost smiled, “You must have a very good memory, to recall so many different names.”

“It's simply because I was eager to meet such talented mages,” And that’s when I saw them, “But who have we here? You two there. Might I ask your names?”

The first unknown student was a monster. A tiny mythical beast that resembled a cat with fiery blue ears. A familiar that was almost pure magic and fur. Disgusting, “I'm the great Grim, future great mage!”

But the one standing beside him was something else. A woman. Her hair looked silky like a festival scarf. Only one of her eyes was covered by her bangs, but the other one looked like it had seen so much, yet so little. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It made sense that she couldn’t use magic. She was an angel. I couldn’t help but wonder what the school had prepared for her to wear later.

When she spoke, it made the bell seem like nothing in comparison, “I’m Yuu. Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. Nice to meet you Rollo.”

I loved the sound of my name on her lips, “Ah, you must be the student attendants Mr. Crowley mentioned,” I tried not to smile, “He said you couldn't use magic. I certainly wasn't expecting you to bring a familiar.”

“A familiar-?” The wretched thing spoke, “Wait, are you talkin' about me?! It's the other way around! I'm the boss, and Yuu's my hench-human!”

“I hate to say it,” She rolled her eyes at the creature as she whispered, it was almost as if she had been speaking to me alone, “But at this point I almost can’t debate that.”

“Heh, what a dependable companion you have,” My sarcasm was almost indistinguishable from my normal speech. I let my voice soften as I moved closer to the magic-less angel presented to me, I almost let a smile slip for her alone, “Yuu, I imagine it must be taxing living among mages all the time. I entreat you to forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City. And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

Her eyes seemed to widen. She looked shocked at my words. She must be so used to brash animals that it sounded odd to be treated properly.

“I actually-”

Malleus Draconia didn’t hear her and spoke over her. I wish I could have killed him in that very second, “I'm truly grateful for your hospitality.”

I moved my handkerchief to cover my scowl, “Think nothing of it.”

I stood by the statue of the Righteous Judge while the pests changed in a building nearby. I had made sure that there was a separate space for Yuu to change. I couldn’t let any of those monsters see the angel in her purest form. Her exposed body would be a gift from the saints above. A gift that I had to keep from being tainted though those devils that called themselves her classmates.

The brats talked loud enough for me to hear them. It was all I could do to keep from lighting the building on fire with them inside, “All this goofing around-”

Trein approached me, “Hello, Flamme.”

I put on my ‘show’ once more, “Ah, Professor Trein. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you for your generous hospitality. Clothing is an embodiment of the culture it comes from and can provide us with a glimpse into different time periods. This is a fine opportunity for my student to get a hands-on history lesson,” Trein was respectable, for a mage.

“Please, think nothing of it,” It was easier to show him hospitality, “Perhaps we should have arranged attire for you as well, though. That was a grave oversight on our part.”

“It's quite alright, I assure you. I don't need the other teachers poking fun at me for dressing like the students when I get back.”

I hummed, “Sounds like you're on friendly terms with the rest of your faculty.”

He released a dry laugh, “Hardly. They're a raucous group and a constant source of embarrassment.”

We broke into humble laughter. I watched as the brats came out, commenting on how me and their professor ‘got along’. 

The familiar came bursting out of the building, laughing, “I'm all done changin' too,” He turned towards the building his master was changing in, “Whaddaya think, Yuu? Isn't my getup way more stylin' than yours?”

“I don’t know about that,” She looked amazing.

The others on the council had scrambled to find female festival clothes for her, and I hated that they couldn’t do better. It wasn’t nearly extravagant enough. Dark blue high-heeled boots, thin black pants, a flowing black and purple asymmetric skirt, multi-blue corset with hot pink lacing, a flowy off-white shirt, bracelets and golden bangles, and a silk chiffon scarf in a lavender color that flowed off her head. She was a saint.

The familiar ran over to her, “Oh, you think you can go toe to toe with me? Don't let one set of cool threads go to your head!”

She smiled and scanned herself over, “I’m just glad it wasn’t too extravagant. Those extreme duds might look fancy, but I prefer something simple and somewhat practical. And this fits the bill.”

She was right. A simpler ensemble let her natural beauty shine though.

Sebek Zigvolt scoffed, “You're both equally unbecoming.”

Trein looked like he could almost smirk, “Goodness, don't you all make a striking ensemble.”

Rosehearts smiled as he dusted off his outfit, “The clothes have a very classical design, I note.”

I removed my gaze from Yuu and addressed the group, “I believe they're patterned after designs that are over 500 years old. Supposedly people in those days had a tradition of wearing new clothes and shoes on festival days. And the outfits grew brighter and more elaborate as the years went on. People would emulate those in prominent positions, such as nobles, royalty, merchants, knights- Which led to the outfits you're wearing now. There were simpler styles that rose to oppose this trend. Though more people gravitate towards the extravagant style in the modern age.”

Ruggie Bucchi was checking himself out, “I getcha. Everyone likes getting fancied up, even if it's once a year.”

Rook Hunt’s accent was almost insulting, “It must have been quite exciting for everyone. I can tell this festival was beloved then as it is now.”

I couldn’t help but mutter into my handkerchief, “Indeed. More's the pity.”

Zigvolt noticed my slip up, “Hm? Did you say something?”

“No, nothing at all.”

I had been tasked with visiting all the Night Raven groups between duties, and I had the misfortune of never running into Yuu. However, the Topsy-Turvy Festival was a mandatory event for all students and chaperones from the visiting schools. It was the last bit of normalcy before I burnt the magic away from this world. 

I locked my eyes on Yuu and approached the Night Raven group, “There you are, Night Raven College.”

Trein did his own kind of smile, “Hello, Flamme. Are you here to watch the festival as well?”

“Yes, this is part of my duties as the Student Council President,” I realized that it may benefit me to stay closer to the group, ‘keep your enemies close’ and whatnot, “May I take this opportunity to sit with you? I’d like to hear about your experiences, too.”

Ashengrotto put on that sleazy grin, “Yes, you’re very welcome to! Please have a seat.”

The fae questioned his classmate, “There’s not enough space, correct? What will we do?”

He smiled as if it was obvious, “Simple. We let Grim sit on Yuu’s lap instead.”

Zigbolt seemed shocked, but Trein only nodded, “Yes, that will do. I’m interested in hearing from Noble Bell College students, too, so please feel free to join us.”

“No way!” The ungrateful monster yowled, “I’m not sitting on Yuu’s lap!”

Shroud smiled creepily, “How about you sit on my lap instead?”

“That grin’s freaking me out,” Grim pushed Yuu onto the bench, “Sit on the chair properly, Yuu! Imma make space for myself.”

I took advantage of it all and sat beside Yuu, “Pardon me. I’ll be taking this seat, then.”

I tuned out the others and focused on Yuu as she watched the mages and the festival goers. There was a slight sign of joy, but she remained mostly neural. She did make a point to try and hold in some laughter at Zigbolt’s outbursts. 

“Hello, everyone! All eyes and ears on me, please!” The same Jester I had seen every time the festival came into town spoke, it seemed he was leading this year, “Come one, come all. Forget about all your work and worries for today, and let’s enjoy the festival. Welcome to the Topsy-Turvy Festival!”

“Topsy-Turvy Festival?” The familiar spoke. Ignorant as a newborn baby, “That sounds weird. Will everyone be upside-down or something?”

I covered my mouth with my handkerchief, “No, he’s just talking about the participants in general. It’s the one day people get to live their lives without titles or status. The weak can become strong, anyone can pretend to be king, so on and so forth.”

Negative emotion coursed through me as I realized Malleus Draconia had sat on the other side of Yuu, and now he was speaking, “Ah, so ranks are put aside for today?”

I grit my teeth behind the cloth I held, “Yes, that’s right. That’s why everyone wears masks for the festival.”

Past Malleus Draconia was Ashengrotto, “I see. I think I understand the appeal now. You get to live as freely as you want today.”

“I saw lots of stalls selling masks, too. There’s a kind of romance to hiding your identity behind a mask,” I swear Shroud was smiling.

Grim spoke up and pointed at some performers, “Everyone looks like they’re having lots of fun!”

The Jester kept going as performers kept prancing, “It’s our long-awaited Topsy-Turvy Festival! But let’s not forget that it’s the ‘Kindly Bell Ringer’ who loved this festival the most!”

Yuu and the familiar spoke in unison, although Yuu’s voice was quiet – as if it was for me alone to hear, “‘The Kindly Bell Ringer’?”

Malleus Draconia spoke again, “Oh, did you not know?”

The little beast was the only one to respond, “Nope, I didn’t!”

Ashengrotto rolled his eyes, “You didn’t even bother researching about the City of Flowers, Grim?”

“I’m not interested in anything except for the food.”

Shroud smiled, “I’ll praise your straightforwardness.”

I then tuned out, I had heard this story a million times. While I did love the tale, it was hard to stand it being said from the lips of a jester and his ragdoll puppet. I but in for a moment to tell the animal what a ventriloquist was, but then I resumed just watching Yuu’s reactions out of the corner of my eye. 

The Night Raven students had turned the festival into a horror show of magical fireworks and mage tricks. It was despicable. Although it did give me a moment alone with Yuu while we said on the Night Raven bench. She was watching the fireworks with a neutral smile. Her lack of ‘joy’ made my heart beat loudly in my chest. Part of me was afraid she was going to hear it over the commotion of the festival. 

I tried to make conversation, “Mages are quite a handful, don’t you think?” She turned to me, her eyes were mesmerizing, “It must be difficult for you to keep up with noisy mages who don’t understand the severity of it all. It would be nice if magic didn’t exist so we could avoid all this fuss. Don’t you agree?”

Her eyes widened, but she just chuckled, “Yeah right. I’m used to it by now.”

I was almost speechless, I couldn’t keep the horror from my face, “You’re ‘used to it’? Oh you poor thing! I can’t blame you for becoming numb to the absurdity after spending everyday practically swimming in it. Mages will use magic to deceive people around them. They cloud the eyes of the righteous. Truely how vexing. But rest assured. This kind of world will soon vanish.”

She froze, “Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

As soon as the words left her lips, her familiar called out, “Yuu! Stop standing around and spacing out over there. Behold! I’ll show you the Great Grim’s Special Golden Fire!” The monster sent out a spray of golden fireworks. 

I used the distraction to slip away. Maybe she didn’t understand right now because she had become accustomed to the horrors of magic, but one day she would. She was too pure. She was an angel. She would be saved from the dirt and grime of magic once it all burned away. 

Then she would be mine.

[greypetrel]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @daggerbean for the tag! And welcome back, consider yourself tagged back if you have something else! <3 Another slow week, a last-minute project took me away... Next I'll have something more, hopefully.

Some Cullavellan, it's been a while. Cullen tried again at challenging her to a drinking game. She was raised Dalish with home-brewed spirits and can't be beaten, just brought to sing.

Whale AU shenanigans, the original one: bed-ridden raccoons are a delight to have around when you're writing the essay of your life, absolutely. (traditional from my sketchbook!)

Some writing under the cut, I'm slow these days but I'm working on some silly thing.

Tagging: @salsedinepicta @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @melisusthewee @dreadfutures @pinayelf @whimsyswastry @sapphireangelbunny @flotttemotte @underneathestars

It was all going well, and she was chatting with Josephine and her sister Yvette about Antiva and vernissages, when the weird dish appeared.

A waiter stopped by the trio, perfectly still with a silver tray balanced on his gloved hand. He cleared his throat, once and twice, and when Aisling finally turned and asked him with a smile what she could do for him, the waiter lowered the tray with grace.

And presented her with a small china bowl, richly decorated in blue hunting scenes with gold details… Full of salad.

Aisling took the bowl with one end, the offered tiny fork with the other and thanked the waiter. She didn’t miss how both Montilyet sisters gasped, ad viewing the content of the bowl. Josephine with worry, Yvette with excitement.

Aisling looked at them and found the same emotions on their faces.

She had no idea about why such a gesture could elicit such a reaction from them. Looking down at the content of the bowl, it was just filled with arugula leaves, so freshly green they must have been just picked, and neatly washed before being served.

It was a little weird that there seemed to be no other ingredient to the dish, and no dressing whatsoever, but it also was true that Aisling wasn’t the best judge over how Orlais preferred to serve its rocket salad.

It was definitely weird how the whole of the west side of the upper corridor in the ballroom had stopped to look at her. Which explained why Josephine wasn’t telling anything about how she should behave right now, with a bowl of arugula in her hand.

She looked around, felt the expectation radiating in waves and directing at her.

Months ago, she would have been spooked by all the eyes on her.

Months ago, she hadn’t been the Inquisitor for months.

Without any clue about what the Game expected her to do with some salad, she just shrugged and did what it felt a good logical solution.

She dipped the tiny fork in the leaves, picked up a dainty little morsel -little and graceful, just as Josie had taught her- and brought it to her lips, taking a mouthful.

Other people gasped, Aisling just chewed. Spitting now was not an option, she could see it too.

Beside, she quite liked arugula, the bitterness mildened by the spiciness.

It wasn’t the best, unseasoned and alone, and this one came clearly from a greenhouse, for in the wild it would have been too soon, but it was fresh enough and tasty.

And under the scrutiny of half the ballroom, not knowing why exactly everyone had stopped to look at her and now apparently also called their friends and their grandmothers, she ate it all to the last leaf.

“Well, that was refreshing.” She smiled at the crowd when she was finished. “Can I know who sent it? I would really like to thank them for the lovely treat.”

It was, apparently, a good thing to say: some ladies started to giggle, and she could glimpse both the Dowager and Madame De Fer smiling under their masks, brief flashes before they turned away.

Something good must have happened, but she still didn’t understand the start from the end.

[majesticwren]

as warned, I am going through an intense gabe kidd fase and now this exists. also there's a concerning lack of gabe kidd's fics around and we must correct that have you seen the guy?? this is 6k of mostly smut and a little angst/comfort just because. don't judge me please. i am so invested in this dynamic I am already 3k deep in a prequel lmao shoot me. also, also, quick p.s. as per usual, my oc has a set aesthetic in my own vision but she isn't described so she can fit whatever you like. k bye. enjoy.

Trigger Warning/s: smut, unprotected sex (as per usual, don't take this as example, follow your sexed! peeps), mention of power and pleasure play, mention of kinks and gabe being dom even though this is pretty tame, kinda, angst/comfort at the very end, breeding kink if you squint really hard.

Masterlist

The small private gym her husband had taken the liking to going and spending all his time in was hardly a welcoming environment. Especially at one o'clock in the morning. Especially to her. And particularly after Gabe and her had yet another disagreement and he left abruptly to go lay off some steam. And didn't come back.

Vanessa hated it when he did that. She hated going to bed alone. She hated missing him so badly. 

He was an asshole but he was still the man she married and the guy she swore her heart to. Even though Gabe could be a stubborn motherfucker, he was her stubborn motherfucker and she felt the need to go remind him.

It was precisely why Vanessa practically marched through its doors with her chin raised by pride, floating effortlessly on her high heels. She was ready for another fight if it needed to be. She was ready to fight him as well as all of his group of little friends who liked to hype him up and stir his more violent side if only to get him into yet another fight they could bet on.

She hated them. They treated Gabe just like a racehorse, like a fighting dog. And she hated him for letting them. Countless were the useless arguments they had on the matter.

She hated his so-called friends just as much as they hated her. She was unwanted and despised because she was Gabe's only weakness. His only distraction. Most times, especially in public, Gabe respected her will more than his own. She was his queen and never once he'd let anyone forget that. They may argue sometimes but never once Gabe dared to undermine her. Her husband had nothing but respect and love for her, even when they didn't see eye to eye. 

Even the crowd knew her by now. Missus Vanessa Kidd. And they loved it when she escorted Gabe to the ring. They loved how she supported him and how she was the only one able to get him back on his feet to keep fighting. And they loved it when she rallied them to support him.

She became known as a warrior just as fierce as Gabe ever since that time she took his blood-covered face in her hands and softly prompted him to look at her, whispering soft praises to give him just enough strength to get back on his feet. The picture of them with their foreheads touching after his win went around the internet only feeding into the way the fans adored him. They ate it all up and it just helped Gabe grow in his career.

It was yet another reason why his little group of bootlicking collaborators didn’t like her. She was simply more important to Gabe than any of them ever would; even and especially Freddie, Gabe’s manager and trainer, who thought he could ride Gabe’s fame from here to eternity and despised her ever since she appeared in the picture. Funny that he had been the very reason why she and Gabe met when he had decided she had a pretty enough ass to invite her to the club VIP area to offer her to Gabe like a dessert on a silver platter like he was used to doing with countless other girls. Too bad she had stolen Gabe’s heart with one look.

Part of her liked to always remind everyone who she was and how she always had the upper hand and the last word. She liked to stir them and bother them. Haters gonna hate and she had all the weapons in her hands to get them to only simmer more. She was always the victor and God if she loved to rub it in Freddie’s face the way she made Gabe unbearably and stupidly happy. 

It was time to remind everyone Gabe was hers.

The small gym wasn’t operating and it was barely lit. From the small entrance corridor, she could hear the group of boys chattering loudly. Someone’s laughter bounced off the empty walls. Someone else was hitting a punching bag. And the rest were talking about the coming weekend's scheduled match.

The second Vanessa entered the room, Gabe’s sharp gaze was drawn to her. His blue eyes slashed the air, hitting her and never moved away.

He sat on a bench, elbows dropped on his knees, looking bored and exhausted as he caught his breath. The conversation around him was going on without his attention and she found herself wondering for how long did no one notice he wasn’t paying attention to them. His pale skin was reddened and pearled by sweat, which soaked through his tank top. Stupid man. She thought to herself. He had probably just spent the evening pushing his body to the extreme of exhaustion and would have been so sore tomorrow.

On the floor around him, there were several forgotten heavyweights and cans of beer. 

One of his pals was hopping around the punching bag, pretending to be in a fight, and one guy stood in front of one of the mirrors, looking at his reflection as he flexed his muscles, Freddie walked in between them talking loudly and drinking a beer, and two others sat around Gabe just watching him exercise. Guess she was the last person who was gonna judge them, that was a generally entertaining hobby.

“Everyone,” she began, already pointing to the door behind her back, “leave us.” 

The chattering quieted down as everyone looked back at her. Her attention didn’t move from Gabe.

Freddie approached her with a cynical smirk printed on his insufferable mouth. He was the only one who had the guts to always confront her openly. Even though he’d always come to regret it. “The princess has arrived, uh?” He wondered looking around to get his mates' support, “What can we ever do to help you, Missus Kidd?”

A cold, sharp smile crossed her lips as her uninterested gaze bounced off Freddie for a moment. “You can leave me alone with my husband.”

“No can do. This is my gym, you see?” He dramatically opened his arms, as if he was trying to show off. Though Vanessa was hardly impressed. “Who’s gonna lock up if I am not here?”

Vanessa promptly pulled her hand out, palm exposed and cheeky smirk curling her lips. “Give me the keys then,” she wasn’t joking, “You got this place only for my husband's delight, after all.”

“And you aren’t welcome here.”

“Wanna bet?”

Freddie was utterly offended but even before he could think about any colourful response, he was promptly stopped.

“Do as she says.” the order came from behind him and stopped everyone from second-guessing the situation. Gabe didn’t move an inch. His blue eyes stayed focused on Vanessa like laser beams. 

“Mate,” Freddie tried to appeal, to no avail, Gabe was unmovable.

“I said,” he continued coldly, “Do as she says. My wife’s wish is your command. Just like mine.” 

Freddie huffed angrily but bent under Gabe’s order without opposing. He better than anyone knew how stupid that would have been, Gabe was someone you wouldn’t want to anger. 

He released a frustrated grunt, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. He looked at Vanessa, still trying to square off with her and then, only out of spite, he turned away and left the keys on the edge of the practice ring in the middle of the room instead of in her hand. 

“Let’s go, boys,” he hinted at the others to follow him.

Neither she nor Gabe moved until they heard the door slam. Then, the small gym fell under a surreal silence. They still only looked at each other for a few moments. 

Gabe wasn’t usually a guy of too many words and yet never once Vanessa had been mistaken about reading through him and understanding him perfectly. Just like now. He may appear proud but his prolonged silence was only to allow her to act freely. The ball was entirely in her court. If she wanted to argue some more, he would have let her. If she wanted to make up, he would have apologised.

Finally, Vanessa decided to move closer. “You need to put a muzzle on your guy. I don’t like the way he thinks he owns you.”

“No one owns me but you, love.” He looked up at her.

“You must remind him more often.”

Gabe released a tired sigh. “Do you always have to fight him?”

“Yes.” She pointed out, “He doesn’t like me, remember?”

“And?” Gabe dared to pull a smile, “Tough shit, you are my missus. Nothing will change that, love.”

“Am I?” She wondered daring to provoke him, “Didn’t feel much like your wife when I was left to go to bed alone waiting. I do not like that.”

“I am sorry,” 

“That’s not enough,” Vanessa approached him. She stepped in between his spread knees and loved to see the way he bent his neck, looking up at her with nothing but devotion pouring out of his eyes. She was quickly inebriated. Nothing made her knees feel like jelly like that big, scary man on the verge of falling on his knees for her. Vanessa smiled evilly and pushed a finger under his chin, making him lean further. “You gotta apologise like you mean it, Mr.” She then gave him a small push and took a step back, and then another. “Am I your wife? Make me feel what it means. Because from where I stand now, I feel more like the forgotten woman.”

“Never,” Gabe inhaled deeply, “I would never forget about you. I am sorry I made you feel that way.”

Vanessa's tempting smile only grew. She took another step back, only waiting for Gabe to follow her, as she slipped out of her heavy pink fur coat revealing she was only wearing a short nightgown made of lace and silk. The bitter air of the gym hit her, but it wasn’t the cold that gave her goosebumps, it was the shift in Gabe’s attention. He hissed as his eyes cruised across her figure, studying what she was wearing, or better the lack of it. 

“What are you doing?” He snapped between gritted teeth.

Vanessa pretended to not know what he meant and propped herself on the edge of the ring, sitting and elegantly crossing her legs. “I don’t know,” she started, “What does it look like I am doing, Mr Kidd?” She checked her freshly made manicure.

“I am not about to fuck you on that dirty ring, love.”

“No?” She wondered pulling a small pout, “Not even if I asked nicely?”

She wasn’t stupid. She knew they had unfinished business to discuss but she was done with that for now. She was ready to raise a white flag first. She wasn’t gonna fight to have the last say. She just wanted to be held by her husband. There might be times they weren’t able to understand each other, both too stubborn by nature to listen, but sex would always be their way to find each other again.

Daring to peek back at him, Vanessa recognised his hesitation and decided to give him a small encouragement, letting one of the thin straps slip down her shoulder. “I am getting cold, Gabriel,”

He was on her in a second. With a grunt, he grabbed her legs rudely pulling her closer, guiding them around him just so he could sit nicely between her thighs as he pressed his chest against her. Vanessa welcomed him with a victorious giggle, quickly wrapping herself around him like a branching tree. 

His hands had barely moved from engaging her. He held her ankle in one palm and her knee in the other and yet, even though he had barely touched her, it was enough to send her ballistic. 

When their lips found each other, Gabe’s were demanding as he expressed freely his desire for her. And Vanessa was nothing but ready to match him.

He was generally taller than her, but now that she was propped up, she had all the freedom to embrace him and she took the advantage, feeling the consistency of his broad shoulders under her arms and pushing her hands to run free across them and down his back or up his thick neck and around his shaved skull. 

Vanessa squeezed his sides between her thighs and released a soft moan into his mouth as she rubbed herself against his solid body. 

“Fuck, love,” he hissed softly, “If I’d known it gets you this desperate, I would have done it more often.”

“Don’t you dare,” she pinned him with a threatening gaze, “I’ll ask for divorce.”

He pulled a soft, confident smirk looking at her. “You would never, Missus Kidd.” As he said it, he pressed his face into her neck, inhaling deeply her scent.  

“No,” she sighed letting her head fall backwards, leaving him all the space he needed to do as he wished with her. “You are right, I am too crazy about you Mr Kidd.”

She felt his smile on her skin as he followed the column of her neck up. His blonde beard tickled her. “That’s right,” his breath was hot on her skin and made her entire body crawl with goosebumps. “Even when I am an ass?”

“Unfortunately,”  

In response to her pretend indifference, Gabe playfully bit down on her neck and then his tongue followed, tasting her sensitive skin. His mouth was quick to latch on her, suckling on her with every intent of leaving a mark.

“I have work in the morning,” she pointed out but with no intention of pushing him off. The pleasure of him sucking on her skin like a hungry vampire was too great. Even when it meant showing up at the office with her neck covered in hickeys like a horny teenager. And Vanessa didn’t miss to let him know, whining softly in his ear.

“Good. Let all of them fuckers know how well your hot husband shags you,” and then he didn’t speak until he was satisfied with his work. He pressed her down on the ring ropes, pushing himself further in her embrace. His hands traced up along her legs, pushing the edges of her nightgown up around her hips and grabbing on her exposed flesh, guiding her to rub herself against him, encouraging her with a grunt.

Her pleasure quickly burned through her and became frustration as soon as she realised just how much more she needed. And she was never patient enough to wait for him to give her what she wanted. 

“Gabe?” She panted, digging her nails into the nape of his neck, hoping to get his attention. No response, he had moved down to her shoulder, still sucking and marking her skin with hickeys. “Shit. Please,” she pleaded, rolling her hips against him, only causing him to squeeze down on her. “Please, baby. I need you now,” she tried again, this time succeeding in getting his attention.

He stood back up, looking down at her with a satisfied grin on his puffed lips. His light blue eyes glimmered with satisfaction as his gaze crossed her figure. “Look at you,” his hands cruised across her legs, “Such a mess already, uh?”

“All your fault,” she puffed her chest up, “You got me all angry and frustrated,” Vanessa grabbed his chin, pulling him closer, “As I said, I had been waiting for you.”

“In this state?”

She nodded biting down on her lip, watching how his eyes fell on her mouth. Gabe's smile transformed into something more twisted as he looked at her like a hungry wolf. And God how much she wished for him to devour her.

Just as if he had read her thoughts, Gabe pulled her leg across his figure and up, so his lips could kiss her ankle. The softness he revealed as he held her was astonishing considering his size and the way he could easily snap a grown man in half.

“I must fix it,” he mumbled, eyes closed in devotion as he leaned down, following the inside of her leg with his lips. “Can’t have my wife this desperate.”

“She is always this desperate when her husband isn’t around.”

Gabe smiled against her thigh. “Don’t tell me that, love, or I won’t be able to leave you again,”

“Then don’t.” Vanessa stretched, releasing a soft moan as her hands solidly grabbed the ring rope in anticipation. 

A low growl came from the middle of his chest as Gabe finally looked up at her. His eyes were the colour of ice but burned like the hottest of flames as he threw her legs over his shoulders. He pressed a kiss on her tender skin just by her knee and then another, lower down, enjoying watching her react to him. His hot breath on her skin was enough to make her whimper.

God, he was so pretty in between her thighs.

“Gabriel,” she called him out in a silent plea, bucking her hips up.

He wasn’t gonna let her beg any further. Just as impatiently as she was, Gabe’s fingers hooked on the thin material of her panties and easily tore it apart, exposing her completely to his assault. 

Gabe buried his face into her, eating her pussy out and not letting a single drop of her sweet juices go to waste. When she bucked her hips up into him, he was ready to catch her, wrapping an arm solidly around her, granting her the support to angle herself as she wished against him, only so he could grant her as much pleasure possible. By now, she knew how much he loved to make her come. He could be particularly dominant, rude and rough most times, which sent her into outer space, but his priority was her satisfaction over his.

Vanessa tried to suffocate a louder moan into her own hand as a wild wave of pleasure curled through her, reviving her and, at the same time, leaving her wanting so much more. She wished him to take her and use her up until they were both breathless and exhausted.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled dangerously, lifting his head and ripping a whine out of her. “Let me hear you.”

“But-”

His eyes twinkled. A dangerous smile crossed his tumid lips. Her juices smeared all over his beard. “Nah Missus Kidd,” his tone was soft but carried a warning, “You came all the way here wanting to get shagged by your husband, yeh? So, now, you will be a good girl for me and be nice and loud as I eat your pretty pussy, yeah? Make me happy, will you, love?”

“Fuck, Gabe,” she hissed looking down at him. He had a mad look to him, like he was spiralling into obsession and it drove her insane to know she was the cause. 

“Yes?” He insisted.

“Yes, sir,” she purred submissing to his will, knowing how much he liked some powerplay. “Please,”

“Good girl,” he praised delving into her once more. 

His tongue was merciless running across her slit, poking her entrance and then slipping up to her clit, where he would stop and suck her tender, hot flesh into his mouth, making her see stars. Her moans were quick to fill the space, bouncing off the walls and echoing around them, only prompting Gabe to continue giving her more.

He made her come once, grunting in approval as she unravelled against him, calling his name. And then again, straight after, fucking his fingers into her until her moans became cries. And then once more, just because he could, only this time he took his time and was gentler, allowing her to ride her high and settle as he pulled himself up, looking down at the mess he had made of her.

He smirked, licking his fingers clean as he let her catch her breath. “Was this what you wanted, love?”

She nodded, barely able to focus and formulate words.

His cocky smile only grew. “I’ve barely started,” he gently grabbed one of her hands and guided it into his crotch so he could rub himself against her palm, impatiently demanding direct contact with her. “Look what you did to me.”

Vanessa purred like a cat, pulling herself up and rubbing her nose on his neck. “My big boy,” she smiled proudly kissing his jaw, and then his cheek, “you are so hard for me baby,” she rolled her fingers around his erection, feeling it through the material of his gym shorts. “You do want to fuck me on this dirty ring, after all.” She whispered those words on his lips and then pulled him into a famished kiss, becoming more feral by the second as she tasted herself on his lips. He whimpered softly into her mouth, rubbing his cock into her hand.

“You have no idea,” he nodded against her, “Do you need a second, love?” He wondered attentively, letting his hands run across her legs and around her hips. “Or are you ready for me?”

Vanessa bit hard on her lip, smiling temptingly, stretching under his eyes. “What do you think, Gabe?”

He smiled, looking at her. His hands squeezed her soft hips and felt the curve of her back in his fingers as he pulled her towards him. “Right you are, Missus Kidd.”

Gabe then slipped out of his tank top. They both forgot about it the second he threw it on the floor. He flexed his muscles under her gaze and Vanessa enjoyed the show, watching avidly the edges of his pale skin. She wanted to lick the sweat off him. He was broad and strong and God, she had never considered herself particularly vain, but her husband’s body was a work of art able to mesmerise her.

Vanessa's hands crossed his shoulders and down across his large chest, following the edge of his imposing abdomen and further down, following the pale happy trail under his bellybutton. She hooked her fingers on the low edge of his shorts, licking her lips as her gaze fell on his hip dips. She couldn’t wait to have him pound into her. It was a wild desire she couldn’t explain. Again, she had never thought she would know what it meant to be cock-drunk, until she met him. She had lovers before, even good ones, but no man ever made her as desperate and needy as Gabriel could. And he knew it.

He helped her pulling his shorts and boxers down and hissed, surprised, when she impatiently rolled her fingers around his shaft, guiding him to position himself by her entrance. “Please, Gabriel,”

“You are so impatient,” he whispered grabbing on her chin to make her look at him. “I will hurt you if you don’t let me warm you up a little, love, you know that.”

His voice and accent alone were enough to drive her insane. Let alone everything else. Vanessa shook her head, stubborn as always. “I can’t wait any longer.” 

He nodded, resolute, as he forced his thumb into her mouth at the same time as he pushed the tip of his cock into her, finding little to no resistance from her. “Fuck, love, you are so wet and tight.” 

Vanessa smiled proudly, letting him watch as she rolled her tongue around his digit and adoring seeing how he puffed up his chest. “C’mon, big boy, give it to me,” she dared to challenge him. “This is not the place to be soft.”

“You are so cheeky,” he began, at first his gaze was soft, but it hardened as he let his hand slide down her throat, squeezing her neck into his hold. “Want it rough, don’t you?”

Even before she could nod, Gabe gave up and gave her exactly what she asked for. She wasn’t the only impatient one. He pushed himself all the way inside of her, watching avidly as her expression changed under the intense wave of pleasure that was ripped out of her. 

Her body stretched around him and he still granted her a second to get used to his size before he started to fuck into her. His clarity vanished just as quickly as his pounds became rapid and hard, ripping her sanity just as easily as he did with her moans. He was quick to give into the frenzy of his desire for her and they both seemed to forget everything else but that moment.

Gabe hooked his arm under her knee and pushed her to bend in a more favourable position. He pushed his face into her chest and growled at the material of her gown but, even before she could hint to slip out of it, he got rid of the problem easily ripping the material above her chest and tearing it up in half with his bare hands.

“Shit, Gabe!” She scorned him, not entirely serious, “Could you try not to trash all my clothes?” She pointed out, only to be shushed by him pumping his cock harder and deeper into her, latching on her and sucking her tits into his mouth. She quickly forgot everything about her clothes and cried her pleasure out loud, grabbing onto Gabe’s shoulders to keep steady.

“Wear something else next time,” He grunted catching his breath.

“Hard to find something that doesn’t make you want to tear it off me.”

“Shut up, Missus. You love it,” He was smiling as he dived on her neck, following her throat with his tongue from the base to her chin. “God, you always taste so delicious.” The way he proceeded to release a soft series of whimpers in her ear, following the rhythm of his thrusts, sent her to another planet.

“Fuck, baby,” she huffed, this time digging her nails into his back. Her focus had dissipated. Her skin was hot and sensitive as her body charged up with waves of pleasure that followed each of his thrusts only growing in intensity, making her core tense up. “I am so close.”

“Yeah?” He wondered, “Come for me then, love,” he encouraged her softly, sliding a hand in between them to rub his thumb on her clit, ripping a loud moan off her. “Be a good girl and give it to me, yeh? I want to feel my wife’s pussy squeeze my cock.”

Vanessa was gone in his arms by then. His voice alone was enough to guide her through her pleasure, throwing her off the edge as he kept fucking her to a merciless rhythm. She cried his name out loud as her entire body quivered underneath him, but Gabe was still not done. He didn’t give her a second to breathe. The selfish prick kept pounding into her, proudly praising the way her pussy clenched around him and taking everything from her. 

It didn’t take him long to follow her, though. The closer he got to come, the more erratic his thrusts became. Gabe wrapped his arms around her solidly and pushed a hand into her hair, grabbing the back of her neck, bringing her to look at him, diving into her eyes as he came. Vanessa watched his bright eyes glimmer with all the love he had for her as he gave himself to her completely, letting her see straight into his heart. Nothing matched that feeling to her. That look was everything. Those eyes changed her life forever and nothing made sense without him by her side. 

Damn him. She hated loving him that much. And yet there was no other way to be. She had known he was the one ever since their first glance and hadn’t been able to let him go ever since.

He collapsed in her arms heavily, pushing his face into the crook of her neck as he caught his breath. Gabe didn’t ease his hold around her, keeping her as close as humanly possible even though he was still lost in the high of his orgasm.

Vanessa smiled, partially satisfied as she kissed softly his forehead, squeezing him in between all her limbs. “Well, that was something,” she whispered brushing her smile across the line of his eyebrow. 

Gabe nodded, “Won’t be able to look at this place the same way ever again,”

“Good.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, just enjoying their embrace as their bodies cooled off. He behaved like a big feline, rubbing his face into her and gladly taking all the soft kisses she left on his features as her grateful lips followed distractedly the high line of his square cheekbones. His forehead. The arch of his eyebrows. The solid line of his nose.

Then, almost too suddenly, Gabe finally moved, looking up at her. She watched him hesitate and recognised thoughts formulating behind his eyes, even though words didn’t come out.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she pointed out tapping her index on his lips with an encouraging nod. “I love you, Gabe. Sometimes I feel like I love you too much and it will ruin me, but I still love you.”

“Me too, love.” He said, almost sounding desperate, “I am sorry for before,”

“Please,” she tried to hush him, sliding her fingers on his lips once more only for him to shake his head. 

“No. You have to let me say it, love.” He looked into her eyes and then pressed a kiss on her fingers and into her palm as he guided her to press her hand on his cheek. “I was an asshole.”

“And I was a bitch,” she pointed out pushing herself to pull a smile, trying to ignore the memories of the bitter argument they had. 

“That doesn’t justify any of it. I am sorry. I should have talked to you like an adult instead of panicking and behaving my usual way, losing my shit.”

“I-” For the first time, Vanessa looked away, trying to hide from him. “I don’t want to talk about it. Please, Gabe. Can you not just take me home and-”

“And what, love?” His gaze was insistent, “Fuck you some more. Fuck you until we both forget about it? I don’t think that’s the right way, Vanessa.”

It didn’t sound like such a bad plan to her.

“I want a baby. You don’t. End of story.” She admitted bitterly. “Now I don’t know how to move on from there. I am scared out of my mind that this is it. That it will be the reason why we keep arguing and we’ll eventually start to resent each other. So, yes, Gabe. I need you to stop me from spiralling into my head and remind me that I am yours and that you’d never let me go. Baby or no baby. Can you do that, Gabriel?” She wondered now looking straight at him, not hiding away. “Can you do that for me? Because the only thing I keep thinking is that I am not good enough and we won’t make it. And I just know I cannot be without you. So, can you get over here and fuck the fear right out of me, please?”

Panic started to grow in her as all the fears she had tried to ignore crept back around her.

“Oh, baby,” he cradled her gently. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, cupping her face in his big, rough palms. He kissed her once, twice, hoping to get her forgiveness, trying to seal the wound their disagreement caused. “I love you.” He made her look at him, “Do you hear me? I love you. You are my one and only and I will never let you go. I cannot bear the idea that you are hurting. That I somehow fucked up. You want a baby? I’ll give you a baby.”

“No. You didn’t fuck up,” she was ready to raise a white flag and forget all about it. She kissed his face tenderly. “I do not need a baby. But I need you. I am sorry. I will not push you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“It isn’t that I don’t want a baby with you,” he spoke in between kisses, losing himself in their hug, “I do not want to fuck him up like my parents did with me. I am not made to be a father.”

Vanessa melted away. She wrapped her hands around his face and looked at him, finding in his eyes and his closeness everything she cherished. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, caressing his face. “You need to stop considering yourself as a good-for-nothing guy. Look at all the good you do.”

“What good, love?” He sounded desperate, “I do not know what you see in me and I never will. Every day I try to live up to the expectation you have of the man I am, but I am nothing more than a guy with a bad temper. I fight for a living. Until someone will either end my career or put me in my grave. I know nothing else.”

“And you call all of that nothing? You are feared and respected. But more importantly, you are inspiring. Every time you get back up, someone remembers how important is to keep fighting. Every time you win you remind everyone you are better than them. I wouldn’t want you to be anybody else.”

“I am mad all the time, Vanessa. You are the only that showed me how to feel anything else. That doesn’t make me a better man. It just makes me a fool in love with you.”

“You are a good man. I know you don’t see it and you don’t want others to see it, but you have been nothing but a good man to me. And you are loyal and fearless and so much more.”

“To you. I am a good man with you.” He hesitated, “What if that doesn’t reflect on my baby?”

A small smile popped on her lips just by hearing him already defining a hypothetical child as his. “You don’t believe that.” The way Gabe looked at her like she was the only light in a darkness constantly swallowing him, made her feel the visceral need to pull him into her chest and protect him from the world. “You are my husband. My person. My family. And my home. And I am the luckiest woman alive for having you.” Vanessa caressed his face and kissed his lips. “I don’t need anything else. Only you.”

“And what if-” he hesitated some more, swallowing what it looked like rocks. “What if I wanted more, love? What if, maybe, growing a family with you is what I want?”

“Then,” she cut through his words, speaking close to his face, cradling him and kissing his features, “Then we can talk about it. Mh? How does that sound, baby? We can talk about it just the two of us. No more arguments and no more outsiders’ opinions influence.”

Gabe looked at her like a scared kid and then he nodded, finally hiding into a kiss. 

He pulled his shorts up and then solidly wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ring and carrying her away with him like she weighed nothing. “Let’s get you home, love.”

“For what it’s worth,” she started hanging on his shoulders and looking up at him, so smitten it was hard to breathe, “I think you’d be a dashing baby-daddy.”

Gabe smiled, trying to hide the blushing on his cheeks as he looked away. “Don’t say shit like that, love.”

“Why, baby?” She wondered drawing circles on his buzzed-off skull, only pretending to have no clue what she was doing. “You would. Just imagining you carrying our baby in your arms – or you pushing a pram around, makes me feel all kinds of things. You’d be a very sexy baby-daddy if you ask me. Playing pretend-wrestling with them when they grow up,” Vanessa giggled feeling a buzz warming her stomach up only thinking about it. “Our baby would grow up to be just like you, I know it.”

Gabe hissed, shaking his head, “See? You can’t go saying things like these Missus Kidd,” he teasingly warned her, “Because it just makes me want to put a baby in you right now.”

“Good,” she smiled proudly even though she found herself having to suppress the thought of it very quickly. The desire to take him to the letter was too big. “Was the play pretend-wrestling that convinced you, right?”

“Definitely,” he winked, pulling a confident smile. “And knowing just how hot my wife would look with a swollen belly with my baby in it.”

“See? You cannot go saying things like these Mr Kidd,” she mocked him, “It makes me go insane.”

“I’ll give you something better,” he continued, putting her down by his gym bag but still offering a helping arm, to make sure she found her balance. “Let’s go home and we can talk about it in bed, uhm?”

Looking up at him, Vanessa pressed herself by his side purring like a cat. She traced his chest up with her fingers feeling her heart could explode with love any moment. “It sounds lovely.” 

[i-arch-my-backula]

Holiday headcanons with slashers

Do I have requests I should be doing? Yes I do. Am I writing this instead? Yes I am. Anyway I need to pump out as much holiday stuff as I can before it's too late. I made it kinda general for all winter holidays but I did include some specific head cannons for Hanukkah and a religious Christmas. I hope y'all enjoy.

Includes: Rz Michael Myers, Norman Bates, Carrie White, Hannibal Lecter and Will Grahm

Warnings: Mention of Michael having eaten a dog

RZ Michael

Now Michael never grew up in a religious house and he never was religious in the first place. Christmas was never a fun time for him as a kid because he never got anything and his family (outside of his mother) were horrible people.

He won't understand why you want to put up lights and a tree but he's not objecting to it. He likes looking at the lights and holding ornaments that look pretty to him.

He won't expect you to actually get him anything but he's going to be a bit surprised when he sees a gift under the tree for him. He totally won't feel guilty and go steal something for you. He only did that because he found that thing and he thought you would like it. Don't press this issue Y/n or he's leaving the house until January.

If you like to bake things Michael won't help but he will eat. It doesn't even have to be cooked and he'll eat the batter or the dough. This man probably has literally eaten a dog, he won't care if your cookies are burnt to high hell he''s eating them.

The same goes for any Jewish dishes you make for Hanukkah. Oh your Latkes are turned into charcoal? Michael will eat an entire plate and ask for another. This man can probably eat literal bricks.

If you're a Christian and you go to Church to worship on Christmas Michael won't be going or praying with you, but he will be outside watching you.

Same goes if you go to Temple for Hanukkah. He'll watch from outside and just look at you. As for lighting the Menorah he'll watch you do that too. He's not judging you doing this Michael just likes to watch.

Norman Bates

Norman is probably a Christian but if you're not he's not judging. If you just want to decorate and enjoy the more commerical Christmas he doesn't care as long as he can still have a little natvity scene and can go to Church, but you're always welcome to join him.

He adores putting up ornaments together. Or just doing any kind of holiday activity together. Putting up lights, baking, cooking, playing in the snow, etc. He just loves spending time with you.

He'll also get lonely around this time without his mother so he's going to want some comfort for that. But he'll talk about how his mother would have loved you and how he would have convinced her that you're a great person who's perfect for him.

Norman will make you write a list of things you want and he will buy mostly all of them. He wants to make you feel loved and he thinks that giving thoughtful gifts this time of year is something important.

He's going to be a bit more busy with the motel around the Holidays but he's going to still make time for you.

Now if you're Jewish and celebrate Hanukkah Norman won't know anything about it but he'll still be supportive. He'll learn some songs and try the food you make.

He'll also still get you gifts for Hanukkah. But I feel like he might buy you both silver or gold necklaces, one with a star of David for you and one with a cross for him.

Carrie White

Carrie's Christmas's have been just hours of worship and praying for forgiveness with her mother. She's never had a tree, never put up lights and has never gotten a gift outside of a bible and a cross necklace one year.

She's going to be so foreign to all of the commerical Christmas things. So she'll want to be included in everything. She'll love to go pick a tree with you and decorate it together. She'll help put up lights and hand wreaths on the front door.

She'll be baking all the damn time. Like your kitchen will permanently smell like cinnamon, vanilla, mint and cloves. And she'll insist you try everything she makes. If you're Jewish and follow Kosher laws Carrie might not understand it but she'll respect it. She'll keep the kitchen Kosher and will even try to make Jewish foods for Hanukkah.

If you're Jewish Carrie is going to have a little bit of prejudice against you but quickly unlearn it because her mother was wrong about so many things. She'll welcome how you celebrate Hanukkah and while she's a Christian, she'll never make you feel uncomfortable with celebrating Jewish holidays around her.

But if you're a Christian she'll join you in going to Church on Christmas and praising the lord. Going back home and opening gifts afterwards.

Speaking of gifts Carrie is going to make you clothes for Christmas. That or go out and buy you something thoughtful. She's not going to expect you to get her anything but when you do she's so surprised and happy that you did.

Hannibal Lecter and Will Grahm

Will is very festive and Hannibal is just kinda normal about it. The three of you will go tree shopping because Will insists on having a live tree and Hannibal can't say no.

Hannibal cooks and bakes so many things for the holidays. And if you're Jewish, he has so many kosher recipes to use and will honestly just start making kosher food most of the time, but if he makes something that isn't kosher for him and Will he's going to make something kosher for you.

Will and you will do most of the decorating around the house because Hannibal "has better things to do" but Hannibal will always come over and insist that he helps "make it better'. Cue argument over Will putting a fishing themed ornament on the tree.

Now I've mentioned this before but Hannibal wraps his gifts with black wrapping paper and he does it so perfectly that you almost don't want to ruin it by opening it. And Will tries his best but it always ends up looking so bad. Will also might wrap your gift as something completely different. Like he'll wrap a watch as a mug.

Will and Hannibal aren't religious I think that's kinda obvious but if you go to Church or Temple for the holidays then they're coming with you as guests. Hannibal knows more about Judaism than Will does but that doesn't stop Will from learning about the religion. I feel like Hannibal might even know a little Hebrew.

As for gifts Hannibal will buy you something expensive, but also something thoughtful. Like you pointed out this beautiful necklace that this woman was wearing? Hannibal bought it for you. Oh remember those shoes you tried on in March that you feel in love with but couldn't afford? Hannibal bought those for you. He also might just buy you and Will a vacation to Europe.

Will's gift giving is also thoughtful but not as expensive. Oh remember that really cool but expensive ring you found? Will made one that looks just like it for you. You remember telling Will about how you lost a childhood toy a few years ago that you loved so much? He bought another one just for you.

[ziasann]

star-crossed streets (first draft)

AU where Neuvillette is a running Presidential Candidate for the Court of Fontaine in the upcoming elections. Furina is a rising actress from the Opera Epiclese on her way to receive her own prestigious Teyvat Star Award. 

Neuvillette only ever knew her name uttered by the mouths of other gentlemen.

“Miss Furina!” 

The backdoor of the reserved VIP club splayed open, gorging out two figures of a man and a woman. They weren’t a couple, but it was obvious with how the inebriated man leered after the gorgeous lady that she was the object of his drunken infatuation for the night. 

The silver and blue-haired woman called Furina, however, did not seem as enthusiastic as the lad. Her face was painted with a forced smile and crossed eyebrows towards her admirer.

Furina…

She was the soloist earlier at the beginning of the party, wasn’t she? Neuvillette recognized those striking indigo eyes and her gentle voice when she introduced herself after her splendid performance. 

“Alas, sir, I am not very much interested in dating or so…” Furina politely refused as the man encroached further to her small form.

His fellow politicians were excited when they heard the Lady Furina would sing for their party. Navia, his running mate, had a friend who had another friend acquainted with the famous songstress Furina. She was able to pull some strings and invite her to their celebration tonight. 

According to the latest polls, Neuvillette was the leading candidate in the Liffey Region. The entire campaign deserved some drinks and reveling after weeks of persevering work. A boost to their morale for the harshest weeks were yet to come.

Neuvillette, after finishing his rounds of greeting friends and colleagues, had enough socialization. He stayed in the shadows of the smoking area at the back alley, a lit cigarette between his fingers, unseen as he watched the singer and her pursuer before him.

When the stranger grabbed Furina’s gloved wrist, Neuvillette dropped his stick and stepped in. His boot squashing the half-smoked cigarette under his heel. 

“Lady Furina had clearly explained her disinterest towards your affections, sir.” His presence was not welcomed as he spoke over them, the minimal light shining over his features as Neuvillette emerged out of his hiding place. “If you still decide to pursue her, we can take this matter easily to the Court.”

“M-Monsieur Neuvillette!” The man stammered, eyes as wide as saucers at the sight of him. “There is no need to raise this tiny issue at Court, I was merely hoping that Lady Furina would grant me some time of her day.”

“And she had refused you already,” Neuvillette retorted. The way Furina settled her riveting gaze towards him almost had Neuvillette shuddering. “Either you apologize to her right now, or the judges will grant you some time of their day soon.”

“My sincerest apologies, Miss Furina,” the bloke humbly bowed to the singer. “I could not help myself with such beauty and voice of yours.”

A woman worthy enough to commit a crime for, Neuvillette mused. How dangerous.

“It is fine,” Furina dismissed, but her eyes never averted from meeting Neuvillette’s stare head-on. “Please leave me alone now.”

The rejected man scampered away from them, his hurried steps toppling over the silence between Neuvillette and Furina. 

Her brows were still slanted, and there was no smile of relief on her lips after thwarting her nuisance away. Her unusual reaction befuddled Neuvillette.

“Is there any other problem, Miss Furina?” Neuvillette asked. Maybe this wasn’t also the best place for a conversation, the road reeking of smoke and alcohol, the cold air buzzing with club music from the speakers indoors. 

“I can handle it,” Furina glared, the softness on her tone was replaced with haughtiness. In a blink, the angelic atmosphere she exuded inside the club had dissipated in a wisp. “It’s not the first time.”

Gone was her pleasing personality, she was rough all around the edges. Her drastic change in behavior astounded him, he swore she was charming the people inside earlier with her meek smiles and amiable exchanges. 

He couldn’t imagine Furina biting back, but here she was. 

Neuvillette couldn’t stifle a chuckle or two in the desolate vicinity, no wonder the man moments prior was fascinated by her. He doubted that the man had caught a glimpse of Furina like this. 

“W…What’s wrong with you?!” Furina accused, crimson blooming on her cheeks. The fierceness fading in her skin. “Never have I ever seen a Presidential Candidate making fun of his constituents like this!”

“I find it amusing, your act of a fine, proper lady during the party,” Neuvillette confessed. “You had me fooled into thinking that you needed help, when it is obvious you could have handled your persistent admirer anytime.”

“I was only saving his face,” Furina huffed. “If I reject him in front of his friends, he will never recover.”

“Which would not bode well for your popularity as a rising actress, would it?” Neuvillette observed.

“It would not,” Furina affirmed, then glanced at the pavement behind him where his shadow was drawn. The flat cigarette sticking to the ground. “In the same manner that your smoking habits would have a negative impact on your approval ratings as a future President of Fontaine.”

For a second, Neuvillette impulsively thought he could quit the nicotine if Furina asked. Maybe the wine they clinked their glasses with at the party was stronger than it seemed. 

“Well,” Neuvillette admitted, a bit too honest even though he shouldn’t. Not when the elections were nearing, and every weakness of his could be exploited. 

“It’s better than the people.”

A statement that could be taken out of context by the journalists, or the citizens. Every sentence he declared, every comment he stated since his filing of candidacy for presidency had to undergo the scrutiny of his advisors. A single approval or denial could destroy the entire career he had carefully built over the years. 

Neuvillette expected the worst, one less vote since Furina found out he was not perfect. Maybe she’d tattle to the news outlets tomorrow and his team would battle a scandal early in the morning with a hangover. But she only smirked beguilingly, her cerulean eyes teasing under the moonlight.

“I agree, anything is better than the people around sometimes,” Furina seconded. “Now we know each other’s secrets.”

“That, we do,” Neuvillette nodded, and the longer he talked with her, the more he was in peril. “I bid you luck in your nomination for this year’s Teyvat Star Award.”

He sauntered towards the backdoor, ready to enter the bar again and return to his campaign managers. Wriothesley and Sigewinne would worry too much if he wasn’t in their sights for more than an hour. 

“Thank you, Mister President,” Furina leaned by the bricked wall. As much as Neuvillette would like to, they could not barge into the club without attracting the attention of the tabloids both in the politics and entertainment sectors. Furina would either wait a few minutes more before going in or leave the night altogether. 

“Congratulations again for your win in the Liffey Region, and I wish you the best in the upcoming elections.”

They wordlessly bid their farewells to each other, their masks and persona donned again in order to achieve their respective dreams. A sacrifice but a necessary one. Neuvillette couldn’t remember the last time he was this transparent and honest to another person, maybe during his time in the university. 

He was glad he was witness to a side of Furina the world could never see. She was destined for far greater things, as he was also trudging on the path less traveled by the common folk. 

Neuvillette wished they’d never meet again.

Or else, he would hopelessly fall in love with her.

[kookieswan]

Red Light - Graphic Canvases

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, some fluff, perhaps a touch of angst.

Warnings: Talk of bodily harm/gore, using blood for paint (Blame Yoongi), etc. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: It’s time to try something new, and you can only hope it’ll pay off considering how far you’re sticking your neck out.

Notes: More interaction between characters! This will have a part 2 for sure, I hope you all enjoy 🤭

This is the 25th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

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

“So… Welcome to group therapy.”

Perhaps not a full group, but the idea stands. Two nightmare sit directly in front of you, two very different expressions on their faces. Seokjin looks pleasant, pink lips slightly upturned in a small smile as he looks back at you. Yoongi, however, looks like he’s about to bolt, eyes scrunched in disgust as he stares toward the door longingly. You can’t blame him, group activities don’t seem to be his forté.

“I’ve decided to take this route for a number of reasons. First off, I believe you’re all much too isolated in your cells, even if there is the ability to talk to one another. Second, I think it would be good to talk out anything you wish to speak of with not just myself, but others.Well likely do this once or twice a week, similar to our other sessions.” Seokjin nods his head in understanding, still complacent, while Yoongi attempts to ruin it. He kisses his teeth, finally turning to gaze at you with those striking silver eyes. You just blink back passively, ready for whatever outburst he’s about to have.

“You’re going to make me talk out my feelings with bubblegum boy? That’s just mean doctor, cruel even!” He jingles the chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, a precautionary measure although a very sad one. Both men have them on, but you know it’s just a pretense at this point; they could get out if they really wanted to. Hoseok proved that not too long ago. Shaking your head slightly, you tap your pen aimlessly on your notes.

“No Yoongi, I won’t make you do anything you don’t wish to. It’s completely up to you to pick and choose what you discuss. It could be anything really, I just want to hear about you. Also…” Looking back and forth between them, you’re not really sure how to bring it up. It doesn’t seem to be a taboo topic per se but you don’t want to ruffle any feathers either…

“I’m not sure how to go about saying this without sounding presumptuous, but please feel free to shift here. I won’t discipline or judge you for making changes to your appearance if it makes you more comfortable.” Glancing at Yoongi quickly, he doesn’t seem to change anything outwardly. But slowly, you watch as Seokjin’s hair changes from black to pink without a word. It makes you ease up a little as his smile turns into a satisfied grin.

“Doctor, if I may… How hard was it to convince them to allow this? I can’t remember the last time any of us were in the same space together with a wall in between, much less with a doctor in our reach.” The last week or so has been… Interesting, to say the least. Dr. Kim has decided to take a somewhat permanent residence on Floor 13 and you can safety say you’re very happy about it. As for the lack of walls and space, that’s all you. If they kill you now, you can only blame yourself for the misjudgment.

“Not as hard as you’d think. There’s been a bit of shift in hierarchy lately that’s worked in my favor. And yes, I’m speaking bluntly with you because word travels quickly down here and it would be foolish of me to pretend otherwise.” Both Nightmares glance at each other as if they’re communicating, but otherwise stay silent at the revelation. They may not know that you know about Hoseok’s abilities, but nonetheless… You hope that it’s good silence, because really, you think it’s going to work in their favor.

“Now, is there anything either of you would like to talk about? If not, I can always get things rolling with some general questions about how you’ve been.” It’s quiet for a bit as you all stare at each others, faces nearly blank until Yoongi all but screeches like a demon from hell. Turning to him with pursed lips, your raise a curious brow to give him the floor… Which turns out to be a terrible mistake.

“Word in the halls is that you sucked face with Hoseok after he ripped that nasty fuckers heart out. Saucy behavior from such a prim doctor, though not really surprising; I’d be swept off my feet too… Don’t give me that look! Pinky here told me.” One blink, then two then many as you try to process Yoongi’s words without malfunctioning. Of course they know; hell, they all probably know when you take your bathroom breaks at this point. Nothing’s a secret down here, not even when you piss.

“… I can neither confirm nor deny these claims.” Yoongi grins salaciously at you, eyes wide with excitement while Seokjin cocks his head to the side, eyes alight with something you aren’t quite sure you like. All these Nightmares are much too cheeky for their own good, which makes it very hard to hide the building embarrassment. You can’t be mad though, not when they’re opening up so much.

“Aw, don’t be shy Doctor! There’s no need to be ashamed of your love. I heard the room was a bloodbath, how romantic.” You’ve never wanted to flick one of them on the forehead more, although the teasing is interesting. You’ll have to take more detailed notes later. Taking a deep breath, you ignore Yoongi’s loud maniacal giggles and Seokjin’s small hum as you clear your throat, pen tapping away yet again. Time to steer things back to where they should be.

“We’re meant to talk about the both of you, not me. Let’s get back on track now.” It goes quiet again, and surprisingly, neither pushes the topic any further. Yoongi raises his hand and waves it around with wide eyes until you call on him, unsure of when you had become a teacher and not a psychologist.

“Jungkookie has the prettiest eyes. They look like a galaxy. I want to paint them on my wall like a mural, although I guess I can’t use Andrews’ blood anymore...” Yoongi huffs, his chains shaking looks away. Seokjin’s usual calm composure finally seems to break, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as he melts into his chair. Clearly, he’s heard the same tune many times before and isn’t excited to hear it again. Nodding complacently, you can’t help but agree, especially since it also allows you to reveal the true fun of today.

“…Yes, okay. I fully agree, Mr. Jeon does have nice eyes. This is actually a good time to mention, I’ve ordered some art supplies for you all, but more specifically for Yoongi. Jungkook should hear shortly with it and we’ll do a little exercise. Seokjin, what about you, anything you need?” The silver Nightmare nearly rips the chains off as he drags himself forward, scooting himself toward you with excited ‘Reallys?!’ falling from his lips.

“Yes really. Perhaps you’ll like acrylics just as much as you enjoy blood. It’s not the same texture, but…” Seokjin seems to ponder for a while, eyes looking far away as Yoongi finally bumps knees with you. It’s odd; you’ve never been this close to a Nightmare save for Hoseok, but it doesn’t feel dangerous. No, it almost feels like being close to an elated friend with the way happiness comes forth from Yoongi’s rapid excitement.

Testing it out, you pat his knee a few times and confirm that yes, today will be a painting session after you finish talking and yes, Jungkook will be here for guard duty since they’ll be unchained. With the way Yoongi looks, you don’t think anything could sour his mood, not even Seokjin interrupting his ramblings.

“Would… Would you ever do a group session with me and Namjoon?” It’s the most timid he’s ever sounded, voice quiet and unsure. Yoongi quiets down and looks between the two of you, then trains his eyes on your face, strangely serious.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. I was actually planning to mix up the groups eventually, I just thought it would be easier to start you off with your roommates. If it’s something you’d really like, I’ll make it happen.” And it’s true; you’ve been planning to mix them up from the start to see how it would go. Seokjin nods hesitantly and drops the subject. You don’t know the extent of Seokjin’s and Namjoon’s relationship, but you know something important lies there. And maybe, just maybe, you picked Jungkook very specifically for today for Yoongi.

There’s a sudden knock on the door, all three of you turning to look at it curiously. Then a few bangs and clangs before Jungkook peaks his head through, hair falling into wide eyes as he gazes in. The man was very excited to hear about getting out of regular guard duty, but you hadn’t told him much of what to expect.

“Knock knock, I have a fuck ton of paint and some canvases…?” Jungkook steps into the room with a cart full of stuff, slowly pushing it in. Yoongi calls out for him, prompting a toothy smile from Jungkook as Seokjin sighs. Their relationship still stumps you a bit, but hopefully today will show you something new. Standing up from your chair, you clap your hands together and step forward to start grabbing supplies.

“Perfect timing. Let’s get started.”

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

Tags: @parkdatjimin @sugarflywme @pamzn @mizz-kraziii @hiii-priestess @winkii @noonas-magicshop @xuxibelle @lookhere-2seok

If you wanna be tagged leave a comment or ask! My only rule is that you have your age (18+!) displayed somewhere on your blog! ♥️

[prvtocol]

RDA Identification Tags

RDA identification tags are for personnel and do not appear the same as the ones worn by SecOps sentry. That is, these tags are worn by miners, technicians, scientists, those in the service sector, and so on; the personnel who make up the majority of the RDA's population on Pandora.

The tags we see Recom Lyle Wainfleet retrieve from Quaritch's human remains appear more similar to military-style silver metal dog tags and seem to lack a picture ID. Recom tags also take on the same fashion.

Judging by this comparison alone, it would appear that So'lek killed numerous civilians/non-soldiers to make up those chains donning his chest plate. As you can see, unless the gray tags are SecOps ones and the photo ID is on the back/not shown, then all those tags are taken from non-military personnel.

Another note is that the earliest script (Project 880) suggests that personnel tags carry a transponder that won't alert sentry guns. We do know Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) Transponders exist in-world for troopers and vehicles. We also see the recoms wearing them on their person. However, civilian personnel may also have transponders in their tags suited to keep them safe on the perimeters of their station.

Lastly, the "DMT" denotation is not far off, even if it seems the RDA leaves behind their dead more often than not. But to be a new arrival and given a "dead meat ticket" ...welcome to Pandora.

[mimilind]

The Librarian and the Elvenking - Part 5

Pairing: Thranduil x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 1940

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

♕ ✧ ♕

5. Under the Linden Tree

When you arrived at the throne room not long afterwards, you found the grand hall packed with elves. Apparently the gossip had spread far.

“My lord King.” You bowed eloquently, carefully checking your features as you did so. It wouldn’t do to come before the Elvenking with a silly, giddy smile plastered on your lips. 

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, keeping an absolutely deadpan face, but he couldn’t hide the dancing merriment in his eyes. 

“You wanted an audience with me,” he stated.

“I did, my lord, and thank you for accepting me on such short notice. I have come to let you and the court know my choice regarding my judgment.”

The large room went still when everyone pricked up their ears.

“And?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“I still don’t think the decision to punish my involuntary trespassing was justified, but I understand that the law is rigid in this realm, with no leeway. Therefore, out of respect for you as king, and the long withstanding friendship between my family in Imladris and the fair forest of Eryn Lasgalen, I shall accept the penalty laid upon me and copy the books for your library.” 

Thranduil was silent at first, and you could almost see his mind working. Then a hint of a smile began to toy in the corners of his mouth, and he replied with equal politeness: “I am very pleased by your gracious cooperation, and in fact, so strengthened in my good opinion of you that I have found a minor adjustment of the Woodland Law to be required.” Turning to his courtiers, he continued. “Surely refugees should be able to safely enter our realm, without fear of repercussions?”

Obviously realizing the king’s mind had already been made up, his advisors gave affirmative answers with various degrees of enthusiasm. Many of them cast sly glances in your direction, probably rightly suspecting the cause of this unusual leniency, and wondering what you were to their ruler.

Returning to you, Thranduil continued: “According to the improved law, you are no longer guilty of any charges, but you are welcome to stay here as my personal guest for as long as you wish. It is only fair, after being treated so harshly. Perhaps the reopened royal library holds a volume or two that may interest you for your own establishment?” His eyes conveyed a world of emotions, and your throat constricted with happiness. This was almost becoming too good to be true. 

“I would be honored to visit your library, which according to my sources contains both interesting history books and brilliant art. But I must also insist on copying my own books for your benefit. It would be my sincere pleasure to help you expand your collection.”

“That is settled then.” He broke into a radiant smile, which made your heart beat faster and the courtiers gasp with surprise.

♕ ✧ ♕

Thranduil paused outside a low fence. “This is the herb garden, though much is wilted this time of year. The sage has lovely flowers in the summer.” 

It was already growing dark; the first stop of your tour had been at the royal library, from where he had had a hard time dragging you away to see the rest of the palace, and the next stop in the wine cellars had been lengthy on his account. 

“Beautiful,” you agreed. You were looking at his face in profile, not at the plants, and judging by the slight twitching of his lip, he knew that.

You had been truthful; he really was extraordinarily handsome. In the waning daylight his hair glowed like spun silver, and his long lashes cast shadows on his strong cheekbones. Tearing your gaze away from him was almost harder than walking away from a library full of alluring new books.

Another hardship was keeping up the polite small talk during this tour, when really you wanted to speak of so many more interesting topics. But with Thranduil’s entourage within hearing range, there wasn’t much to be done about it. He was a king and only rarely alone; one who wanted to be his friend must get used to that.

“Here is also a view for sore eyes.” Thranduil indicated an opening between the trees, where the river glittered pink in reflection of the sunset sky, but his eyes were resting on you. 

“Indeed. I can look at it all day,” you mumbled, meeting his gaze with a fluttering heart.

“There is one last place I want to show you,” he said, suddenly turning serious, almost grave. 

You suspected you knew where that was, and when he took you to a secluded, walled garden with unmistakable linden branches reaching out from above the other trees, your suspicions were confirmed. He wanted you to meet his wife.

The guards and attendants stayed outside the gate, and you felt their eyes on your back when Thranduil led you inside. “Nobody but Legolas and I can come here,” he explained in a subdued voice. “Unless they have my permission, of course.”

“Legolas. Your son.”

“Aye.”

“I heard he established a new elvish realm in Ithilien. How do you feel about that?” You took his hand, glad to be alone with him at last.

He entwined his fingers with yours. “I was angry at first. What was wrong with this realm, where he already was prince and heir? But I have come to terms with it now, and in a way, I am proud of his achievements too. He accomplished some great things during the War, and if he is happy down there in the south, then I ought to be happy too. For his sake.”

“But he left you. To a… what was it you called it? Involuntary solitude.”

“He did.” Thranduil gave you a sheepish glance. “But a wise elf once told me I can make new friends.”

“Very good advice.”

You had arrived at the huge linden in the center of the garden. Its leaves were a bright yellow now, and on one branch hung a swing. You had seen it in his drawing, with his young son riding in it.

“This is my wife. Or what remains of her… I have no way of telling how aware she is of her surroundings.” 

You dropped his hand and went closer, stroking the smooth trunk and gazing up into its colorful, autumn shrouded crown. “She’s beautiful,” you breathed. 

Thranduil came up to you on silent feet, and you felt his arm around your shoulders.

“Do you think she would mind, if…” you broke off, suddenly shy about giving words to your thoughts.

“...if I remarried?” He pulled you closer. 

“That, aye.” You looked at your feet.

“I know she wouldn’t mind.”

“How?”

"Because right before she left me, she said I should try to meet someone – for Legolas' sake. So he would have two parents." You felt his fingers in your hair. "But I couldn't do it. There was nobody else for me, I thought. I could only love once – like most of us." He gently turned your face up to meet his gaze. "And then you came... Treating me like a person and not a king, and touching me... I cannot remember when I was last touched by anyone. I always have people around me, as you have noticed today, but they keep a careful distance. They are there, but not there; impersonal and respectful." He stroked your temple with his thumb. "I enjoyed being with you so much that I even had to make up extra errands in town to see you more often."

You placed your palm on his cheek. It was slightly damp. “I’m really happy to hear that I’ve made a difference.”

“You most certainly have. And I want to… I want to ask you something, but I hesitate because I worry for your sake.”

“Me? Why?”

“Who would want a grouchy, moody king on their hands and get nothing in return?” He smiled weakly. 

“Nothing? Having you would be everything. Can’t you see it?” You wiped away a tear from his cheek, and then had to wipe one off your own as well. “You have made me so happy these past months. I love talking with you, and just spending time together. I knew you were married, so I forbade myself to feel anything more than friendship. But honestly… That wasn’t easy.” 

He looked at you, at loss for words but with eyes that spoke all the more.

“I love you, Thranduil. I even loved Ú-eneth though I knew nothing about him.”

With a strangled sob he took you in his arms, and his lips met yours in a needy, passionate kiss which stole your breath away. 

When he finally answered, his voice was husky: “I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

“Aye. I will!” You pulled him in for another kiss.

Taking off one of his rings, he carefully thread it on one of the lower linden branches, murmuring something as he did so. Perhaps a final farewell to his first wife.

A breeze ruffled the tree's mighty fronds, and a single leaf floated down. You caught it in your open palms, admiring its perfect heart shape. Did this mean she accepted you as her successor? You chose to see it that way.

"I will order the rings and announce our engagement, but perhaps it is wise to wait for a while, and let the court get used to you?"

"I agree." You were certain they still thought you were an impostor, but you hoped to be able to change that and make new friends here. You usually had no problem earning people's trust; it came with the job.

Thinking about your job, another thought struck you. "Can I keep my library? I don't want to abandon my friends in town. Poor Liv and Ylva would worry sick if I never returned..."

"I will gladly build you as many libraries as you want. But... Must they be mobile? I want you here with me."

You chuckled at his worried look. "I wouldn't mind making it a permanent library in Dale, and I could hire someone to run it. That way I'd only have to go there once in a while and check on things. Maybe timing it with your errands in town?"

"Perfect!"

"Though... if I wanted to establish a new library elsewhere, perhaps my king and husband could get a vacation for a while and help me out? For example, don’t you think that the lovely Dorwinion country you spoke so warmly of needs one?"

"I am sure that could be arranged." Thranduil rewarded you with his dimples, and your legs turned into jelly. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed each dimple, and then his mouth, feeling him respond with poorly constrained fervor. 

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity. Finally you yielded completely to your emotions, and indulged yourself in him. Thranduil’s scent made you heady, and his muscular warrior’s body under your exploring hands set your own body on fire. For the first time you understood the texts you had read on the subject of love. It was something you had to experience; one of the few things you could not learn from a book.

When Thranduil and you left the garden much later, the sky had already turned completely dark, but in your hearts there was a new light. Soon you would be wed together, body and soul, and after that even death couldn’t keep you parted for long.

Your lonely days were over for good.

♕ ✧ ♕

A/N: This was the final part of this story, that I originally wrote for @raider-k​. Hope the rest of you enjoyed it too!

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

[nflstreetsanimereviews]

The Great Cleric Vol. 1 Review

Welcome to my latest edition of ‘Reading Isekai Light Novels’ – today’s edition is for Seija Musou Salaryman Isekai de Ikinokoru Tame ni Aymu Michi, known in English as The Great Cleric. The Great Cleric is due to have an anime adaptation air this summer. I know, another isekai anime, woo…anyways, there’s no reason the judge a book based on its cover. I mean, The Great Cleric’s cover is pretty good by light novel standards, but illustrations rank pretty low when it comes to what makes a light novel good. ‘Isekai’, while often garbage, doesn’t have to be garbage. The same can be said for light novels in general.

The Great Cleric’s main character, whose name on Earth is unknown, is known as Luciel in Galdardia. He’s isekaied to Galdardia after being shot and killed in Japan. Imagine being killed by a firearm in Japan! Talk about horrible luck! Even worse, Luciel, a salaryman back on Earth, was just about to get promoted! His death is seen as so unfair, the powers that be reincarnate him in Galdardia, a magical world that resembles one from an RPG. Luciel is spawned in this new world with close to zero information about its society and how it functions.

Luciel, with decades of experience in real life in the business world, decides to become a healer, since his goal in this new world is to ‘die of old age’, and because being a healer sounds like a safe job. What Luciel didn’t account for is that the reputation of healers in Galdardia is at rock bottom. Healers in Galdardia are known for their sky-high rates, which many adventurers can’t afford. Those who can pay can. Those who can’t pay don’t get healed, or are sold into slavery as repayment. In short, the most prominent healers have decided to maximize their profit margin, charge extortionary rates, and use social control in order to maintain the status quo. Good thing that only happens in fantasy worlds…well and in America too.

Unknowingly, Luciel throws a wrench into the Healing Cartel by being isekaied. Along with joining the Healer’s Guild AND the Adventurer’s Guild, he decides to start training under the tutelage of Guildmaster Brod. Brod’s training makes boot camp look like recess, but Luciel is up to the task and ready to receive daily ass-kickings. He’s doing what it takes to not get killed in this world–something he couldn’t prevent in the other world. Also, it helps when you’re able to track your progress numerically (remember, this is an RPG world). Brod, seeing what potential Luciel has, gives him a residence at the Adventurer’s Guild. For only one silver, Luciel will heal your wounds–sure beats paying thirty gold for the same treatment. Luciel’s cheap healing and non-discriminatory practices make him a favorite within the guild’s quarters. 

Unfortunately, the analysis of the internal healer-adventurer struggle is only at a surface level. I can’t deny, it’s certainly interesting–but it takes a backseat to the development of Luciel. I understand why, since Luciel is the main character and all, but I can’t help to find the guild dynamics to be more luring than reading about Luciel’s months-long grindfest. 

If I had to pick one thing from The Great Cleric that turned me off the most, it would be how predictable most scenes went. Luciel spends most of this volume training under Brod, which doesn’t sound bad at first–but considering each day goes about the same, it does get tiring at a point. Each day Luciel:

Gets the shit kicked out of him by Brod

Drinks ‘Substance X’, which is a grotesque concoction that’s supposed to give you a skill buff

Has a conversation or two with the ‘beastwoman’ clerks and has the same thought every time (“oh nooooo people are staring daggers at me for talking to two beautiful women for what’s probably the 400th day in a row, hope I don’t get my ass kicked!”)

The first point actually isn’t bad, considering it’s the only action that really happens in this volume. Slapstick will never be boring to me. Repetitive, but not to a point where it gets grating.

‘Substance X’, an unknown drink made by ‘The Sage of Time’, is supposed to ‘help ya grow’. Well, thankfully it does! Having the ‘Access Mastory’ skill, Luciel can see that Substance X does actually give you buffs! The only downside is that the smell and taste of Substance X is putrid–and The Great Cleric makes sure you know that every time Luciel takes a swig of it. You’d think the surprise of Luciel being able to drink what apparently is too revolting for any other person would die down after the first year of him being there, but nope. Oh well. I’m being a bit nitpicky here, but I didn’t really care to read what’s pretty much the same conversation several times.

The last point is what drove me up the wall about The Great Cleric. Luciel, despite mentally being middle-aged, has the same temperament about talking to pretty women that timid teenage boys have. Perhaps he was one at some point, but he’s a grown-up now and should know better. This is a bit of conjecture since we don’t know how our MC talked to women back on Earth. For all we know, he could be a virgin that’s never had a girlfriend! Who has time for women when you’re a salaryman? Either way, the fear that Luciel has is largely unfound. Those who ‘discriminate’ against Luciel do due to the assumption that he’s the standard money-grubbing healer that discriminates against beastpeople, something completely understandable given the reputation healers have.

All together, Luciel has pretty much recreated his salaryman job in another world. Yes, healing those for cheap is way more virtuous than being a cog in a corporate machine, but ostensibly it’s the same structure. Considering Luciel’s goal in this new world is to die of old age, this isn’t a bad deal for him. Does sticking to this routine for months on end make for good entertainment? Well, it’s a mixed bag–altogether it makes it hard for me not to give The Great Cleric the moniker ‘The Mid Cleric’, but it would be dishonest to say that it’s bad. 

The Great Cleric does have the potential to be one of the isekai series to stand out from the rest–you know, like Re;Zero and Konosuba. It’s hard to see since this volume was little more than an introduction to the series, but there are genuinely some interesting parts about this series that I hope the author expands on. I have a feeling it will, since by the end of this novel, Luciel’s existence is such a thorn in the side of other healers that some attempt to get him assassinated. Luciel is pretty much a walking Urgent Care–he’s apparently the only healer that sees healing as a virtue and not as a cushy job. Again, parallels could be drawn to the American healthcare system, but that’s a whole other conversation that’s way more complicated than the way healers screw over adventurers in Galdardia.

Most of the things I complained about above (the last two points in particular) should resolve themselves as the series progresses. This volume was Luciel’s grinding time–of course reading about someone grinding isn’t that fun. It’s rarely fun to grind in games! With a change in location, Luciel’s daily routine should be shaken-up. Well, I say should. There’s always a chance that Luciel finds another Brod to train under, continues his daily routine of gulping several cups of Substance X, and continues to be frightened when attractive women talk to him. Being a light novel, I wouldn’t be surprised!

The Great Cleric does have the potential to be a good series, but I personally would wait until the anime airs to consume it. I’ve been betrayed by light novels before, so there’s no telling if the quality of the series plummets after this volume or if it actually progresses in a fashion that is engrossing. The anime will clear that up for us. Personally, I’d like to see Galdardia’s society to be expanded on. We get a nibble of it in this volume, but with Luciel being cooped up in the Adventurer’s Guild for about 90% of this volume, we’ve only explored a tiny sliver of this magical world. As I said above, this should sort itself out as the story progresses, but I’d wait until it’s animated.

60/100

[rosavulpes]

Despite the immense pressure pushing down against her , her wings remained free . Her body remaining buoyant still . 

Despite the intensity of and the speed at which the waters were moving past her , she was not bound by them . Free to halt , and turn her head around to ensure that her flock was still keeping pace with her . 

It was her duty to ensure that they arrived safety to their final destination , their final resting point from which they would be inspected , judged . Their value measured . 

Their lives , their every thoughts , and their nature would be weighed against them to see if they could cross the waters like she could , or ... would fall downwards into the abyss awaiting the unworthy below . 

As the spirits appeared behind her , with one motion of her silver wings she propelled herself forwards into the darkness . 

Ear insulated against the rushing waters , body navigating the dark depths with ease as she turned to avoid sharp , rock faces that blocked her path . Obstacles that she could destroy if she so choose to make this journey easy but she didn’t want to risk changing the flow of the natural currents . 

Perhaps in time , these rock faces would break away and crumble like so many other did . After all , when one was swimming within the confines of an underwater current that was situated at the very bottom of the ocean ? If you weren't crushed to death by the sheer volume of water atop you ? You’d be ripped to pieces by the unforgiving currents . 

It was part of the reason why she preferred these waters as her domain . They were peaceful , few forms of life could call this place home , and there was ample room for her to rest on the seabed without interruption when her work came to an end . 

Currents that one might end , that secretly ran across the entirety of Remant’s oceans and landmasses . 

Whether this was intentional design by her makers or the result of millennia of natural erosion she didn’t know . It simply meant that she could easily , and quickly span the globe to ensure her work was properly done . 

Of course , there was nothing wrong with ascending to the surface to bask in the clearer waters but it was a pleasure she indulged in only when she was certain that no humans were around to see her . 

Basking in the fury of storms was also something to look forward to , hurricanes or otherwise . 

As the darkness of the underwater depths neared their end , a loud , echoing roar escaped from her lips . 

The darkness giving weigh to light , as the waters around Lugia soon disappeared for both herself and her flock by her command . 

Replaced by , a sea of stars . Diving headfirst into the pool of stars and galaxies alike she didn’t look back as the spirits of the dead in tow with her did the same . Some of them sinking for a bit before ascending back upwards , others remaining afloat as if the stars were nothing more than empty air ... and the others ? 

She could hear their screams for help as they fell through the waters , into the awaiting darkness eager to grasp at them . 

Ignoring their cries , as was her charge , she soon broke out of the waters and landed atop her perch . A nearby rockface as she roared once more , a pathway of pure light appearing at the end of the river of stars . 

The spirits that remained afloat we’re being pulled towards it , their final resting place , their final reward for leading virtuous lives , free from evil . Those that had turned away from evil , or redeemed themselves from it , we’re now being welcomed into the gates of the afterlife . 

All transgressions , large or small , forgiven by the sacred right of passage . 

Watching as the spirits crossed one after another , she did pity those that could not make the journey but in the end ... they we’re those who bore no regrets for the crimes that they’d committed . Never attempting to atone for , or make amends for those they’d wronged . 

As such , those very same actions became the weights that dragged them downwards . What happened next ? She didn’t know , that was up to a higher power if they would see the same light . 

Regardless , she watched . Thinking to herself all the while and she quietly observed . By the time her duty was done ? The sun would broke free of the horizon , and her sister would now be tasked with doing the same in her own domain . 

Departing the realm of final passing , returning to the ocean floors , she left the currents , seeking a soft patch of sand for where she might rest until it was her time to awaken again . 

Soft waves of dust kicked up as she tucked her wings inwards , laying her head down across the sand . 

Hours passed , perhaps even more , her slumber disturbed the sound of a bell . Ringing softly first , but soon more joining in harmony . A song ... and one she recognized all too well . The sound of the tidal bell , a magical instrument whose chimes could be heard across all of Remnant’s vast seas , 

She was being called upon to answer . 

Spreading her silver wings wide once more , she propelled herself upwards . Body beginning to spin rapidly , forming a current around herself as she began to ascend to the surface swiftly  . In an underwater water cyclone of sorts . 

@clockwork---heart​

[ere-the-sun-rises]

I'm a classical historian and this is actually a huge and valuable perspective!

When we look back on ancient works like, say, the Iliad (ei. part of the story of Troy), there are a lot of things there that disturb us. Slavery, rape, graphic violence, abusive leadership, sexual violence - these are all deeply troubling aspects of the poem. However, the poem is also at least 2800 years old. It is one of the first works ever composed after Greece learned how to write. This thing is closer to the building of the first pyramids in Egypt than it is to us (c. 2600 BCE).

If you dismissively approach the Iliad as "a product if its time", you'll see a bizarre and brutal culture that makes no sense to live within and dismiss the poem outright. If you proactively approach it as "a product of its time", it has a wealth of information to share.

For instance, the Iliad takes place (and was written within) a pre-law society. There is no authority or shared moral code - only a culturally-enforced code of conduct. Really cool facets of this make themselves known, like "xenia" (zen-ee-ah). Xenia loosely translates as "guest-friendship", and descibes a custom where travellers could approach a nearby warlord's home and be welcomed without fuss. The host would be obliged to feed and clean the visitor as well as provide lodging. Between rich people, this usually came with a symbolic exchange of gifts (a gold cup im exchange for a silver sword belt, for example). Xenia was also governed by Zeus, so a trespass against xenia was not only culturally shameful, but straight-up blasphemous and would bring godly wrath upon your people. Xenia is also passed down between generations. This means the grandsons of two men who had xenia also have that same bond, and they're forbidden from harming one another.

This is demonstrated in the Iliad when Diomedes (a Greek) meets Glaucus (a Trojan) on the battlefield. They discover they have xenia from their grandfathers, exchange armour and let each other pass. They are enemies, but it's a very personal moment that highlights how impersonal this war is for most of its participants - and that they know it. They're here because of a pact they made, and the same honouring of oaths that sparked the war is the same honouring that goes into xenia.

And xenia isn't just a feature of a semi-mythical past! Classical Greeks had xenia relationships all the time! This was a huge touchstone for real people and a lot of its function we understand from the Iliad (and its sister, the Odyssey).

It has a lot of value for understanding how a culture used to think, what issues needed resolution mechanisms or who needed protection. In our last hundred years, the world has changed enormously. It may seem straightforward and self-evident because it's not so far away but the reality is that most of us haven't lived through that time. It's worth a lot more to understand everything, including alk the ugly and uncomfortable stuff, than it is to judge.

Not "It's a product of it's time" as a way to excuse its problematic undertones but rather "it's a product of it's time" to say that the issues it tackles were relevant then and its stances that now seem milquetoast were radical then, and that heavy handed, cheesy driving home of those viewpoints was sometimes necessary, and our acceptance and normalization of those viewpoints is in large part because of media like it normalizing those viewpoints and imagery, and watching it in the modern day turns into a loving study of history of the masses and public opinion

Yes this is about the original star trek

[denimbex1986]

'It's the stuff of dreams: Andrew Scott, aka the Hot Priest, and Paul Mescal, Normal People's heartthrob extraordinaire, fall in love in an eerie new story directed by Andrew Haigh.

But things are far from breezy: Haigh's moody romance drama, a meditation on memory and love, drills down on the way human beings cope with loss. Things are not what they seem. Scott’s character, Adam, is still dealing with the death of his parents; Mescal’s character, Harry, has a substance abuse problem.

"If you don't cry at Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal's performances in All of Us Strangers, you need to start asking yourself some questions..." said the Standard in a piece about how to watch the film without weeping throughout.

Now the new film has just landed on Disney+, thrilling subscribers. Here's everything to know about All Of Us Strangers.

What's the film about?

All of Us Strangers is loosely based on Japanese writer Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel Strangers, which tells the story of a man who befriends two strangers who closely resemble his dead parents. His health deteriorates and he realises the pair are actually ghosts feasting on his energy.

In Haigh's adaptation, the film follows Andrew Scott's character, Adam, who returns to his rural childhood home from London, where his dead parents seem to be still residing.

Although they cannot be real, they certainly feel real, and the experience allows him to go over childhood memories: "All the way through All of Us Strangers, writer-director Andrew Haigh’s noble attempt to introduce the complex subject of gay shame to the mainstream, I was reminded of the most famous line of Philip Larkin’s poetry. “They f*** you up, your mum and dad/ They may not mean to, but they do.” What would happen, poses Haigh, if they got to apologise afterwards?" said the Standard.

Running alongside this story is the blossoming relationship between Adam and his neighbour Harry (Paul Mescal), who slowly fall in love.

Is there a trailer?

Yes...Against the extended dance version of the Pet Shop Boys’ Always On My Mind, we are introduced to Adam and Harry. It’s not clear what they mean to each other yet – or will come to mean to each other – but they start talking about Adam’s childhood. His parents died just before he was 12 years old, he tells Harry.

The trailer takes us away from the London tower block, and to a suburban house – Adam’s childhood home. Adam approaches the building, and as he enters his mum (Claire Foy) and dad (Jamie Bell) welcome him, frozen in time?

“Is this real?” asks Adam. “Does it feel real?” replies his mum.

“Our boy’s back home,” smiles his dad, holding out his glass in another scene, as the reunited family sits around the table. Judging by these strange, sorrowful scenes, the film is going to be an absolute tearjerker.

Who has made the film?

All Of Us Strangers has been written and directed by award-winning British filmmaker Haigh, whose 2011 drama film Weekend told the story of a brief but intense romance between two men who meet at a gay club. The film was highly praised and won Best Screenplay at the Evening Standard British Film Awards.

Since then, Haigh has directed and written 45 Years (2015), which starred Charlotte Rampling and Tom Courtenay as two retirees who have been married for 45 years. At the 2015 Berlin Film Festival, both actors won the Silver Bear awards for their roles in the film.

Haigh also directed Lean on Pete (2017), a coming-of-age drama which starred Charlie Plummer as a young man who makes friends with a racehorse.

What have the critics said?

All Of Us Strangers premiered at the 50th Telluride Film Festival in Colorado in late August, where it picked up some stellar reviews.

The film has 94 per cent on Rotten Tomatoes, and has been described by critics as “a nuclear-grade tearjerker”, “an enormously satisfying and affecting experience,” and having “piercing insight and arresting performances”.

The Standard loved it, describing it as "bleakly handsome filmmaking, with a virtuoso cast". Other reviewers have been just as taken by the film, calling it, "an emotionally wrenching masterpiece", "mesmerising", and a "glorious magic-realist meditation on grief".

What have the actors said?

Both Scott and Mescal have been doing a lot of press for the film. Speaking to British Vogue about working with Scott, Mescal said: "We became very close because of the nature of this project – not just because of the sex scenes, but because of the emotional intimacy that these two characters share. That was just the perfect climate to fall in love with Andrew as a human being. It’s a very easy thing to do."

Scott, who is gay, has spoken about the film's exploration of gay shame: "I think for so many people, particularly queer people, you can feel like a stranger in your own family," he said to ABC Entertainment. "Even if they haven't directly rejected you, you just feel slightly different… [But] discomfort within a family and love within a family can coexist. It's pretty common."

Where to watch All of Us Strangers in the UK?

For Disney+ subscribers, the film has now landed on the platform. For non subscribers, it’s available to buy from £9.99 on Google Play, Amazon Prime Video, YouTube and Apple TV.'

[welcome-to-the-districts]

Consultation

Quick little one-shot featuring Amira. Tw for mentions of blood. One-shot under the cut.

Flat-Top swallowed nervously as he skated through the dark halls. The sound of gears grinding filled the air as he glanced around the halls. His eyes were perfectly adapted to seeing in such dim lighting, a gift bestowed upon the rolling stock by the Starlight Express itself. He dreaded the conversation he was bound to have with Amira. He knew she was busy with paperwork while she wasn’t barking orders to the guards left and right. He skated off to the side as a human rushed past him with a shaken expression on their face. No doubt they knew of what happened here on the regular. Flat-Top shuddered at the mere thought of it. He slowed to a stop before two massive crimson doors with stunning baroque lifted engravings cast in silver. The door itself had to be several hundred feet tall and easily over fifty feet wide, as if it were built to accommodate a machine of gargantuan proportions. 

He took a deep breath as he reached towards the door’s controls. It was button operated, one for closing, another for opening. The controls were inlaid a black metal plaque and the buttons were the color of ruby. He pressed one of the buttons and he stepped back as he watched the gears of the opening mechanism turn on the very top of the enormous doors. The locking mechanism clicked, signifying it was unlocked before the doors slowly swung open, revealing an office that gave off a warm glow of flickering fire light. 

“Come in! Make it quick!” A familiar voice demanded from within the office. Amira’s tone was sharp and her tongue sharper. Flat-Top winced slightly at the tone before he entered the office and the large doors swung closed behind him. The concrete floors gave way to Bloodwood floors accented with ruby rugs with hand sewn silver intricate baroque patterns. The office walls towed over him, taller than the doors by a good ten feet. They were the color of blood with golden intricate patterns with silver highlights. In the very center of the wall was a fireplace. The fire was burning strong as always, no doubt ignited by Amira’s fiery breath judging by the immense heat.

There was an array of furniture, each in varying sizes, as if they were made of machines of all different sizes. Surprisingly, there was a sofa that easily reached over fifty feet tall that matched the rest of the room. It was accompanied by a much smaller arm chair, also matching the overall look of the room. An end table or two, both matching the height of the armchair and the couch sat right next to the two seats. Each had a lamp, both were turned off. The fireplace provided plenty enough light to illuminate the room in a warm welcoming glow. The light licked at the silver accents of the rugs, walls, and furniture. 

There, in the center of the room itself were two desks. One was large enough to fit a rolling stock his size. The other was absolutely massive, towering over him as if it were built for something that couldn’t possibly exist, yet there she was, sitting on a chair, busily filling out paperwork, Amira. 

Amira wasn’t in her easily recognizable humanoid form. No. Behind closed doors, she almost never was. Instead, she was in the form of a massive and impressive beast. Her long, muscular body was black as the night sky in color. Her underbelly was the color of blood and pleasantly plump with a few layers of fat that simply added that much more to her appearance. Her hair was now a silver mane that ran down the length of her neck. It was thick and perfectly soft to the touch of those who would dare to run their fingers through it. Her face had a similar shape to a mix of a diesel and steam locomotive with a crimson cowcatcher on her chin. On her nose was the shield of the Union Pacific logo. The blue stripes stretched ever so slightly across the sides of her snout, ending at her nostrils. Each nostril had a blood red horn just just behind each one.

She had six limbs in total and was sitting in an odd manner. Her second pair of legs were in a perfectly comfortable position, resting on the front of the chair, where as the third pair were sitting similar to a dog’s. The chair had a large enough gap in the back of it to allow the rest of her body to rest comfortably. A pair of arms, and two pairs of legs. As for each wheel on her body, there was a limit of some sorts. Each limb ended with clawed paws. Each claw was crimson, almost as if she had dipped them into the sweet nectar of life they all craved itself and were easily as long as he was tall. Her great size easily reached several hundred feet in height. However, the most striking feature on her body were the horns that curled in such an unnatural manner, like great red swirls. Each horn had a prong in the middle, not exactly useful, but sharp and long enough to gore someone if they were unfortunate enough to find themselves at the receiving end of her wrath. She dipped one of her claws into the black ink before she continued to fill out the piece of paperwork, using her claw like a pen. 

He cleared his throat and Amira froze. Her draconian ears pinned back against her skull. Her ruby gaze slowly lifted from the paperwork as she turned her large head to look at him. She was wearing her formal attire, having just returned from a meeting. The top of her outfit was cropped just slightly above her plump belly. Chains that were large enough to be used for logging operations rested against her collarbone and against the very collar of her outfit as it stretched across her chest , having been attached to her attire using strong material. 

The lower half started just before her second set of limbs and another chain rested on her thighs, stretching across them. It draped over her back and covered the front part of her body and partially her legs. There was a considerable gap just at the side of her second pair of legs, allowing her easier movement. The lower half came to an end just a bit before the very end of her body. The rear looked similar to an engine’s, double acting as a large bobtail. 

“What is it you want this time, Flat-Top?” Amira’s voice had softened slightly as her ruby gaze studied him. He felt so small and insignificant compared to her. She could easily crush him if she ever wanted to. Thankfully, she was an ally of his, a very close one at that. 

“I was wondering with blood moon coming in the next week… You think I should just.. you know.. isolate myself? I feel like these instincts are a curse.. I never asked for them. I don’t want to risk harming anyone around me. You know how I feel about that, Amira..” Flat-Top averted her gaze, looking down at the floor as he fiddled with his thumbs. Amira narrowed her eyes at him.

“That is up to you, but mind you, your instincts are not a curse. They are a gift. Use them wisely.” Amira turned her attention to her paperwork, dipping the same claw in the ink once more, using it to fill out her paperwork. Flat-Top looked up at her.

“Amira.. please.. you don’t understand. These instincts are dangerous! Why should a gift be so dangerous?!” Flat-Top protested. He stopped as he saw Amira tense up slightly. She was not one to be talked back at and he knew it. He slowly skated back.

“Amira, I’m sorry..”

Amira whipped her head around it face him before she stood up. Her great bulk towering over him as her silhouette loomed over him, blocking most of the light from the fire place. He fell back onto his rear and scooted back further, one arm raised defensively. She crossed her strong arms and growled deep in her chest. The girls sounded like thunder to him, shaking the office. 

“The instincts are neither bad nor good. It depends on how you wield such a tool. We survived and evolved for thousands of years thanks to our instincts. We still rely on them to keep ourselves alive. They are not something to be feared. They are something to be embraced! The more you deny them, the worse they will be when you finally lose control. Control is needed, yes, but that’s why our laws cover such things. You may kill a human, but you cannot kill another machine. Even then, the instincts do not always abide by our laws, only following the laws of nature itself. You are in denial of your teeth, boy! Sharpen them! Use them! They are the best tool you could possibly have at your disposal. They ensured our kind’s survival for far longer than you and I have ever existed! Do not throw away such a tool, a gift. Heed my warning boy, we must not follow humanities’ morals, as they do not follow our values, our history, our government! You and I are equal to animals. Where we are today is a result of us clawing our ways up the social ladder and making a name for ourselves. We evolved throughout our lifetimes, just as how the many other lifeforms had done over the course of millions of years. We abide by our laws, our own morals from a reality we forged from the fires of ire and vengeance. This is the reality you contributed to, and yet you fear the truth glaring you right in the face? You cannot deny who you are, boy. You and I both know it. Embrace it. Embrace those instincts that were gifted to you. Do not waste them, shun them or fear them. They are a part of you just as you are a part of it.  Heed my warning boy, your instincts are your strongest tools, your weapons. Ignoring them or hiding them will bring nothing but danger to those around you.”Amira’s sharp glare rested upon him as her booming voice echoed throughout the halls of the great fortress. Flat-Top didn’t want to admit it, but he knew she was correct. If she wasn’t the captain of Greaseball’s guard, she would have made an excellent politician. She had years to hone her skill, her craft. Those many years paid off, as she had clawed her way up to where she was now. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything..” Flat-Top trailed off. His fear was replaced with guilt as he averted her sharp gaze. Amira’s ruby eyes softened and her colossal body relaxed. One of her draconian ears flicked idly as she sighed.

“You’re fine, boy. I know you’re still young. You’re still afraid of the world around you, learning new things about yourself. I was like that once. Embrace who you are. Do not fear it, but do not let the instincts consume you. You saw what happened to Joule didn’t you? You watched the instincts take hold and turn her into what she is now. We all did.” Amira’s tone was much softer than before. He knew she genuinely cared for him. She always did, having had a soft spot for him from the beginning. She rarely showed it, but he always was able to pick up the subtle hints of her body language. Her voice hid the truth, but the way she moved did not. The softening of her tone and her body relaxing as she saw him in such a state was more than enough proof for him.

“I know. Just worried is all, but.. You’re right. I shouldn’t worry about them. It makes them worse.. Stress amplifies it.. Along with anger. I’m getting better with my anger, I am. I just.. Need time and consistency.” Flat-Top slowly stood up. For once, Amira’s mouth turned to a gentle toothy grin. Her sharp teeth were easily the size of a small car. Yet, Flat-Top was unphased. The fear of her had already done and gone ages ago. 

“I know. Now-” Amira stopped as she heard a series of small knocks on the door. She stood up straight and cleared her throat. “What is it?” Her tone of voice returned to it’s usual sharp nature, always demanding answers, demanding respect.

“Madame Amira, Greaseball has decided he’d like to make a public appearance. He’d like you to accompany him. Crusher will be with Dinah.” a meek voice, no doubt a guard, spoke from behind the door. 

“Hmph. Very well then! Give me a moment!” Amira called out. She looked down at the brick truck. “Apologies, we will have to continue this conversation another time.” Amira bowed her head slightly. Flat-Top nodded and was quick to skate off to the side before Amira stormed out of her office. The whole fortress seemed to shake as her voice boomed through the halls, barking orders to clear the way. He peered out from the enormous doors before he skated out into the halls. Amira was harsh with her words, yet she provided him with a much needed sense of closure in terms of his instincts.

[musecaravan-info]

Ronnie Brennan

"I love places that make me realize how tiny me and my problems are." ~ Anonymous ~

Basic Information

Being a shapeshifter, Ronnie’s appearance is relative. However, she doesn’t really like to shift… so this section is based on her “favorite” form.

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Zooey Deschanel

NAME: Veronica 'Ronnie' Brennan

AGE: 26

EYES: Light Grey

HAIR: Dark brown

HEIGHT: 5'2

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Comfy jeans and a comfy t-shirt is all Ronnie really needs (Usually the t-shirt is music-related.) She does have a necklace she wears on a regular basis - the pendant is the silver bullet that was originally intended to kill her - a constant reminder to stay under the radar. She can also (almost always) be found in a pair of combat boots; she especially likes those of the outrageous variety - like zebra stripes, for example.

Personality

Ronnie typically comes off as playful and friendly to most people. She's also a huge nerd of the pop culture variety and loves talking with other (willing) people about mutual favorite things. She the kind of person that always tries to remain up-beat, even when things might not be going so well. Ronnie looks for the positive in everything, and is definitely a 'glass half full' kind of gal. Perhaps a little too trusting (especially given her past) she considers anyone a friend until they give her a reason not to.

Powers & Weaknesses

To avoid repetition, see this post. :)

Romance

Ronnie is technically pansexual and panromantic although she doesn't really look at it that way. What she cares about is a person’s inner self and is far less concerned about what they look like on the outside. As a shifter, she knows better than anybody not to judge based on appearance alone.

Due to some issues in her past, Ronnie does not actively go looking for relationships; nor is she easily able to perceive potential relationships (even when it’s beating her over the head with a stick.)

Essentially, she will be your muse’s best friend…until your muse shows romantic interest in her. This sort of forces her to acknowledge the attraction that’s (typically) already there.

Note - this does not include casual flirting; it needs to be a serious declaration of romantic intent.

Where to Find Her

To avoid repetition, see this post. :)

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

Ronnie is a shapeshifter with a jaded past. She struggles with what she is and HATES shifting. In this verse, she travels around the country in her RV, doing her best to stay on the 'down low,' and trying to fight the genetic urge to create chaos. She typically controls this urge via a variety of hacking skills, and she uses her abilities to help people who need it.

'Connected' Verse

This verse is almost exactly like main verse. However it's built around Ronnie's relationships with a handful of characters written by other RPers. The main difference in this verse is that Ronnie shares a mental connection with the archangel, Gabriel, stemming from an encounter in a specific RP.

Essentially, it means if your muse has heavy ties to Gabriel’s past, Ronnie’s probably going to experience the sensation that she knows them…or she might actually have specific emotions that surface when your muse is around.

For example - if you’re muse is one of Gabe’s (aka Loki’s) kids, then there would be vague feelings of recognition. Also, regardless of the situation, she’d feel at ease with them…possibly a bit paternal…maybe slightly guilty, as well.

This DOES NOT have to be a prominent part of our roleplay - but it IS a part of the verse and for continuity’s sake will more than likely be mentioned, at least in passing, by my muse... even if it’s only in her head.

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Ronnie isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

None at the Moment

Your Thread Here!

Completed Threads

I don't have many of these on any of my blogs, but RPs I've actually completed deserve to be acknowledged, I think. ;)

Gabriel:

1 Bar, 2 Bar, 3 Bar, Floor! ('Connected' Verse)

Aftereffects ('Connected' Verse)

No One's Perfect ('Connected' Verse)

With a Little Help ('Connected' Verse)

Lirim:

Flashback of Maine ('Connected' Verse)

What Burns Inside ('Connected' Verse)

Rei:

Don't Lose Your Head ('Connected' Verse)

Seraphiel:

B-Rated (Main Verse)

Of Muses and Music (Main Verse)

Take the Long Way Home (Main Verse)

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

Ronnie is my oldest muse. There's a lot of headcanon on her original blog that I don't really prescribe to any more. If you're an 'old-timer' with her, and you don't see something here that used to be a thing, then it's probably not anymore. However, it's okay to ask me about stuff. Because she's my oldest, it's also possible I've forgotten something, or that I've overlooked something. There's SO MUCH content on her original blog; it can be hard to sort through.

I am NOT fully caught up on the series - I’ve only seen through the end of Season 10, and I don’t know when I’ll get around to watching any more. TBH, I was more than a little disappointed with the first couple of episodes of Season 11, so… yeah.

I also do not have a photographic memory for the seasons I have seen, so if I make a mistake with something don’t be afraid to tell me. As long as you’re not rude about it, I promise to hear you out. ^_^

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Ronnie

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Ronnie's Appearance

Ronnie's Home

Ronnie's Transportation

Return To Full Muse List

[hhbridgertonau]

9 - Silver Lining

Not the chapter you're looking for? Check the Masterlist!

Daleon considered herself well-versed in small talk. She left men speechless with her demeanor, and for an instant, she thought she’d make the same of Tomo. Tomo, however, made it clear that she would not be the one to direct the flow of conversation, but him. She could not charm him. In fact, her mind blanked in his presence. He was rather intimidating, as if he had no care for whatever a woman had to offer. What would a prince want in a woman when he already had a crown and power? But Daleon supposed he was here for something more.

“I take you enjoy the clotted-cream pastries, my lady?” His voice, deep, melodious, and firm, almost lulled her into a trance.

“You seem to see right through me, your highness,” her hands trembled as he handed her a plate of cream puffs and fresh fruit.

“I’m sure it is a coincidence. I enjoy them as well,”

Her brows rose. “I must say it’s the first time I’ve heard some one other than our butler admit they like sweets,”

“I am not ashamed of being forthright with my likes and dislikes,” he picked up a tart and took a bite, chewing before swallowing. “And Lady Gracewood’s cooks are quite talented.” He smiled.

Daleon’s nervousness gradually began to fade. Perhaps she and Prince Tomo would get along after all. She wasn’t the only one who seemed to think so.

“Helping yourself already? Don’t over do it now,” Hijiri sauntered up to them, staring at Daleon. “Isn’t she lovely Tomo?”

Tomo finished his tart before replying. “It’s hard to judge a character from just two minutes of speaking with them. But even from a brief introduction, she has been most welcoming,"

His onyx eyes bore into hers, sharp-ish and analytical, but soft with understanding. Daleon did not want to look away, and she couldn’t help but recall Gab’s eyes and how she found them quite similar.

Hijiri laughed. “Wonderful. In that case, why don’t we invite Miss Morningstar and her family at the palace?”

Daleon flushed, almost missing the king’s words entirely.

“Just imagine it: a gathering of London’s shining jewels—”

“Uncle, please, not another one of your ‘gossiping’ parties. I’m sure the lady has plans of her own,”

Hijiri took one of Daleon’s hands and clasped it between his. “I hope you and Dancel do come. It is sure to be quite a party. Hm, I must also invite the Driscols. Ah, there he is, Lord Gabriel!”

Gab turned, eyes wide in bewilderment at the king calling his name so loudly. He promptly marched towards them. His eyes fell on Daleon for a moment. “Your Majesty,”

“Join us for afternoon tea tomorrow,” he said. “And if you can, bring Ainsworth with you. I have a proposition for the old man,”

He pursed his lips at the mention of Ainsworth. As if to disregard the implication of his silence, he bowed his head. “As you wish, your Majesty.”

“Now then,” Hijiri grabbed Tomo by the shoulder. “As much as I would hate to interrupt your time with Miss Morningstar, you have an adoring public who wishes to see you,”

Tomo nodded. “Of course. It was lovely to meet you, Miss Morningstar. Lord Driscol,”

With bows and curtsies, the two royals left.

“So,” said Gab as soon as they were out of earshot. “It would seem fate has brought you a prince at last,”

It was strange of him to make conversation with her first. But at the subject, she allowed herself to grin. “He’s very charming.”

She held out her plate towards him. “Cream puff?”

“Thank you, but I shall decline. I’ll do much better with a sandwich,” he stood closer to her, watching as the festivities unfolded before them. Daleon picked up the pastry and ate it.

“You mustn’t waste this opportunity,” said Gab. “It will be an utmost triumph for you should he ask for your hand before the season’s end.”

“Do you think he would?”

Gab raised an inquisitive brow. “Proper gentlemen are sure in their decisions. He will not hesitate if you have your prospects well in hand. It would do you well to present yourself as his best choice.”

But aren’t I already the best choice? Daleon thought - which didn’t seem correct to her.

“You’re certainly right,” she said instead, voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t want him to know how excited she was for both the coming day. “But tonight was a most excellent start,”

Gab sighed. “Let’s hope it stays that way, for both our sakes,”

She began to wonder what the king had in store for them both. “Do you think the king would introduce a princess to you? Perhaps another noble lady?”

Gab looked at her. “I wouldn’t put it above the king to do such a thing. He’s always eager to play matchmaker with how leisurely this echelon of society spends its days. Poor thing must be bored in that palace of his, thinking marriage is so easy,”

“You sound as if you know what it’s like,”

A pause. “Perhaps I do,”

The king’s fondness of extravagance should be no surprise when he lived in such a grand abode. It was hard for Daleon to even fathom how one could be bored of such a place. The ceilings were as high as grand cathedrals, and she could see embellishments of gold in the pillars and the molding of the floors. They walked through a grand hall of paintings of the king, his wife, and his predecessors, all framed with intricately crafted gold. One in particular caught Daleon’s eye.

“I’d recognize your work anywhere,” she said to Dancel, who also gazed up at the somber painting of the king and his wife. The couple was surrounded by wreaths of flowers and shrubs against a darkened backdrop.

“The king requests a different one every year,” he said. “It was a great honor painting them.”

They entered a ballroom already bustling with a few of the king’s court and the handful of guests he invited. She caught Fauta, Gab, and Jellie huddled together in the back corner by a grand arched window, speaking in turn with a man Daleon assumed to be Lord Ainsworth. His pale silver hair had an ethereal golden glow, exuding an aura of power and wisdom that far exceeded his age. He had the bearings of an ancient soul who had forsaken the comforts of an otherworldly abode and walked the earth for as long as it stood. She understood then why the house of Paradiso was home to such handsome sons and beautiful daughters. She was staring at angels. She could see the faintest resemblance of Ainsworth in Gab: in the way they held themselves straight, the way their expressions were stern but gentle, full of memory and sorrow. They stood out like beacons in the flurry of dark coats and pastel dresses, almost outshining the pale sunlight that pilfered into the room.

As if sensing their arrival, Gab’s eyes shot up. Their gazes met, and Daleon smiled in greeting. Fauta too saw, and excusing himself from his company made his way towards them. Ergon’s arm tensed, and Daleon felt a sudden surge of warmth.

“Lord Driscol,” she bowed her head. “It is wonderful to see you again.”

Fauta smiled. “I could not be more honored with you still holding kind regards for me, my lady. Perhaps you shall permit me to steal your affections once more,” he said with a teasing tone.

Beside them, Ergon cleared his throat. A warning.

“It is a…strange kindness I will not forget,” she said. The memory of him trying to kiss her sent shivers down her arm. But the man had not harmed her. And as far as she could tell, his intentions had never been evil - misguided, perhaps, as Gab might have suggested.

“Oh Dally, thank goodness you’re here,” Jellie almost jumped onto her, clinging quite forcefully to Daleon’s other arm. “I was terrified of being the only lady. Save me by charming all the gentlemen away. I don’t want them.”

She still never understood why the young Stewart didn’t want to marry, but Daleon had never found the time to ask. She reassured her friend with a gentle pat of her hand.

Gab approached them with Lord Ainsworth. It was Dancel who greeted them first. “Lord Ainsworth, You look the image of health,”

Ainsworth forced a smile. “Your grace. It has been some time indeed. The last I saw you, you were just a boy entering manhood. You never allowed anyone to see you after your father passed, so if I may, I’d like to offer my duly late condolences.”

“I understand you and my father were good friends. If anything, I should be apologizing for being selfish and rather cold during the whole ordeal,”

Nodding in understanding, Ainsworth cast his gaze upon Daleon.

“I can see why Gabriel has taken to you,” he said, much to both of their surprises.

“My lord—” they said in unison, as if one was about to explain for the other. They looked at each other, and it was as if all the words on their tongue melted away. Daleon’s face grew warm.

“Lady Nightbloom exaggerates. It is nothing like that,” said Gab. “We are merely friends.”

“I would not be so sure,” said Ainsworth, turning to face Gab. “Friendship serves a substantial foundation of any great marriage.”

Now it was Gab’s turn to be flustered. “My lord—”

A sudden fanfare was followed by the two grand doors opening for the king and prince. Had it not been for their more regal way of dress, with a king’s crown and the prince’s cape, it would have been easy to mistake them for normal people. It was always surreal to witness their presence commanded the respect of an entire room, although that may have been more of Tomo’s influence than Hijiri’s.

Once they had finished with rather general greetings, the royals made a direct beeline for the Morningstars.

“Miss Morningstar,” said Tomo, smiling. “I am most pleased you could make it.”

“The honor has been mine, your highness,”

“Offer her your gift,” said Hijiri, almost as if he were commanding Tomo. Tomo glared at his uncle and the servant waiting behind him. He sighed and motioned for the servant, who presented to her a long velvet box. When it opened, she saw stars in broad daylight - a bracelet of diamonds embedded across a silver chain.

Tomo lifted the jewels. “May I?”

Daleon shyly gave her hand and held a breath as Tomo’s fingers brushed her skin as he gently clasped the bracelet around her wrist.

“It’s beautiful,” said Daleon.

“Perhaps not as beautiful as the lady wearing them,” he lifted her knuckles to his lips.

“Thank you, your highness,” her voice quivered. The corners of her mouth turned upwards and they wanted to keep going up. She had to bite her tongue to make sure she didn’t look a happy fool. She stared at the bracelet, her hands buzzing with remnants of Tomo’s touch. Enthralled by the gesture, Daleon’s hearts skipped beats, and she withheld the urge to make any sort of noise.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Gab staring at them.

They served tea in the garden, underneath large cloth canopies, swaying with the pleasant western breeze. The Morningstars and the Driscol-Stewarts sat at the king’s table, while other guests sat at smaller tables not far from them, partaking in savory sandwiches and buttery crumpets. While the ton’s renowned gentlemen and dear friends spoke of money and relations, Tomo made Daleon feel as they were in a little world of their own, speaking of distant lands Daleon almost wished to see. Tomo spoke to her of the warm weather of the Southeast, where the sun scorched on the skin, and the wind smelled of salt and charcoal.

“It pleases me to see you two get along well,” said Hijiri. When Daleon turned to look, everyone at the table had their eyes on them.

She glanced at Gabriel sitting across from her. He did not seem keen in partaking in their conversation either. He stirred his tea almost meditatively, scooping some of it into the spoon and taking a sip, like it was soup.

Hijiri noticed she was staring at him. “I hope poor old Gabriel won’t be too upset, given the rumors,”

At the mention of his name, the Duke realized what he had been doing. He set his spoon on the saucer. “I don’t believe I have any reason to be,” he said. “Miss Morningstar is entitled to her decisions in marriage, which she has made abundantly clear.”

What did he mean by that?

“I hoped you would announce your engagement,” the king chuckled, casting a sidelong glance at Daleon. “You’re as boring as your uncle.”

“If Gabriel’s caution and respect for a lady is considered boring, then I should very well be proud,” said Ainsworth in kind.

“I am not here to tease you, my good friend. I wish to conduct business with you as much as I intend to indulge us in leisure. And I’m sure some fresh air will do you good, seeing as you’re always cooped up in your home, praying every hour, no doubt?”

“If one’s life is not devoted to prayer or the rearing of their children, why I’d find that to be a very dull life indeed. But tell me of your business so that I may consider it,”

Hijiri glanced at Tomo. “We have allies in the east, sons, who wish to take up wives in the west,”

Ainsworth did not react. “And you wish me to offer my Angela, I assume? Why not save us both the trouble and have her engaged to his highness instead?”

Daleon’s eyes first fell to Gab, who shared her gaze for a brief moment, before falling to Jellie’s whose face drained of color at the boldness of the discussion before her. She began to sway in her seat, and Daleon feared she would collapse. The sight made Daleon a little faint herself. Beside her, Tomo clenched his jaw, and the aura emanating from him had changed into something more heated. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hijiri raised a hand.

“This son of the east also happens to be a prince. His name is Prince Lakas, if my memory serves me well,”

Some of Hijiri’s guests began to break into excited murmurs, but it was only because their table had gone deadly quiet. Jellie appeared to make herself small, like she wanted to close in on herself.

“Isn’t this…good news?” Daleon whispered, only loud enough for Dancel to hear. The duke frowned, but took Daleon’s hand and patted it.

“Someone with far more diverse interests and opportunities will be a wonderful match for your Jellie, wouldn’t you agree?” Hijiri continued. “I heard she enjoys being outdoors.”

Ainsworth nodded. “Yes. But I would loathe to say my king is offering promises of which there is no proof of certainty,”

“Only a man as reasonable as you would doubt their king. We can make sure of it, won’t we, Tomo?”

“The only thing I will say is this is an awfully distasteful topic to discuss,” Tomo's lips drew into a straight line. “And in the presence of the lady in question, I might add.”

Dancel quietly hummed in acknowledgment.

“Your highness, this is my granddaughter’s future we are discussing,” Ainsworth replied. “I want what is best for her. And His Majesty is offering a prospect I would be a fool to otherwise refuse.”

The look on Jellie’s face told them otherwise. She let out a shaky sigh. It was as if her thoughts and feelings didn’t matter to them. Daleon did not know what to make of it.

“I only ask in consideration of the ladies present,” Tomo continued. “If business must be spoken of, then might I urge Miss Morningstar and Miss Stewart to relax in the library? I’m sure they will be more entertained than having to sit around like waiting ducks.” He turned to Dancel, Ergon, and by intent Gab and Fauta. “My lords, you are welcome to accompany us as chaperon.”

“I shall gladly take your offer, your highness,” Dancel stood from his seat and took Daleon’s hand in his.

The king only sighed. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them. Fauta opted to stay. Gab stared at Daleon, and she found herself staring back. Heaving a sigh, the Duke rose from his seat and moved to escort Jellie, but she beat him to it. She stood abruptly and marched towards the palace, uncaring whether the others would follow her.

As much as Daleon would have wished to admire the sea of wooden shelves lined with books of old and new, they were more concerned for Jellie’s welfare. The air was already quite thick with the smell of decaying papyrus, and the way Jellie’s shoulders shook with every breath told them a storm was coming.

“Don’t worry, Jellie,” said Daleon. “I’m sure Lord Ainsworth will listen—”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re the Diamond,” Jellie spat, her voice laced with acid. “To you, every other lady, and every man in this god-ridden society, marriage is considered picturesque. To you and everyone else, this is a game - a game I wish I had no part in playing!”

Her voice rose with every word: “None of you understand how it is: to only be bred to be sold to the highest bidder to bear children, and the cycle repeats—”

Her fists shook as she clenched them so hard her knuckles turned white. For a moment, Daleon thought she was about to throw a fit or worse.

“My life is over,” she said weakly. She shook her head. ”It was over the moment I was born.”

Daleon reached out to touch Jellie’s shoulder. Jellie shoved her away. Gab caught her before she could make an impact with the floor. Her small figure framed, almost perfectly, in his arms.

“Jellie!”

“Fools. All of you!” She cried as she ran out.

It took Daleon a moment to realize the situation she was in. Heat rushed through her in embarrassment. “Pardon me,” she muttered.

“It’s alright, Daleon,” he whispered, followed by a frustrated sigh. She saw his brows crease. “I must go after her.”

They did not separate, but that did not matter. “I’m going with you,”

“I’d rather you not. You will only make things worse. Leave my family matters to me,” Daleon could see the clear blue waters of irises had clouded, and his lips curled down. “Please,”

How did he expect her to walk away when he made that face? How she wished she could comfort him. Never had she felt so powerless - or was that the truth Jellie had realized before her, that she desperately tried to fight it? What could she say to him that he did not already know?

“Gabriel—”

He released her and left, the sound of his footsteps fading as he went further and further away. Ergon came beside her. “Are you hurt?”

Daleon shook her head. She was still thinking about leaving them to go after them.

“This is understandably upsetting,” said Tomo.

Ergon turned to him. “Will they be alright?”

“I’m most certain they alerted the guards, and some servants are bound to see her. I trust all will be well. But we should help when we can,”

“Indeed,” said Dancel, running his fingers along the book-spines. “Though I must say this is not the first time the king has meddled in the marital arrangements of others.”

Tomo sighed. “Sometimes I think he has no shame. I must apologize for both my behavior and his majesty’s,”

“I think it was very kind of you to comfort Jellie,” said Daleon. “I did not think someone would do such a thing.”

“I’m sure he meant no harm by it,” said Tomo, before turning to address Dancel. “And I understand this is a horrible impression for any possible relationship, your grace. But I sincerely hope Miss Morningstar will not accept a proposal coming from His Majesty, but a proposal of my own.”

“The season is only halfway, your highness,” said Dancel, smiling kindly. “I would say there is still quite a bit of time to decide.”

Tomo bowed his head. “Thank you, your grace,”

Dancel gave Daleon a knowing look before moving to sit near the window. Ergon sat opposite him, looking down at the garden from when they came.

She and Tomo didn’t speak for a minute. They were both still processing the events that transpired.

“I never truly thanked you for this,” said Daleon, looking at the bracelet on her wrist. She hoped it was not too awful for a beginning of small talk. “I didn’t think Jellie would ever feel that way about these things. Marriages are supposed to be happy, aren’t they?”

Had she been thinking about it wrong this whole time?

“It is. Or at least that is what many hope it would be,” Tomo made a face. “Not all of us are given the freedom of choice. Fortune has its burdens.”

“Does that include you, your highness?”

Tomo invited her to sit beside him for a minute. “I will not deny that I returned to my mother’s homeland to ensure that I fulfill my duty as my country’s heir,” he explained. “Nor do I wish to lie to you and say there is no fragment of truth in Miss Stewart’s words.”

Daleon had heard the stories before, in Lady Nightbloom’s papers. The columns filled with scandal after scandal, with an extensive list of reasons for marriages that had gone awry - most of them resulting in financial losses, not to mention the shame that came with being the topic of a scandal. She realized then how lucky she was under Dancel’s care - only to worry about whether she loved a man enough to want to marry him.

But was it really that simple?

“Regardless, I would wish my future wife to be happy with me, despite the burdens a crown carries,” he continued. “So few marry for love nowadays. As outlandish as it may sound, I wish to be one of those few.”

He stared at her as he spoke, a hopeful gleam in his dark eyes.

“So pray, allow me the opportunity to know you for who you are, and hopefully fall in love with you, as any good man would.”

Daleon’s throat went dry at his words, fingers bunching up the fabric of her dress as her heart beat rapidly inside her ribcage. Maybe it was that simple.