#bonding over living in a constant state of disgrace

[eggtargaryenii]

ok. maybe there is chemistry after all

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti and Barbara: Relationship HCs

of course^^ I think Venti and Barbara are really cute together haha. To be fair, this could have gotten really sad but I’m trying really hard to stop making everyone suffer.

I did no research on this. I just used whatever knowledge I had stored in my brain but my brain has been turned into mush. But I hope you still like it anon!

Lads. I’m so tired. That Venti, Dvalin, and Andrius one took so much out of me. Tbh I don’t know if anyone would like it since it’s such a rare pairing but I hope you did because I wanna turn into spaghetti. Damn, trying to use paint to make headers doesn’t really work out haha. 

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Alright, today’s appreciation post goes to toxic-luck. I really wish I could tag these people but tumblr absolutely craps itself whenever I do it [which I don’t understand why and it makes me really mad] but hopefully you see this haha. 

Istg you and a couple others [I’m gonna be dedicating the next couple appreciation posts for you all^^ ] are actually speed it’s kinda scary but tyty 💕💕💕 I’ve seen you pop up a lot and I just wanted to let you know that hey, I like you and you’re a lovely person. 

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler​ @childelover @dilucsz

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Venti and Barbara: Relationship HCs

Barbara refuses and still continues to refuse that Venti is actually Barbatos. The archon that she has prayed and dedicated her cause to CANNOT be a alcohol obsessed bard that goes around pulling pranks on everyone. Her mental state would not be able to handle it. No matter how many times Venti tells her otherwise she suddenly can’t hear him. The acoustic’s in here are terrible or the wind is too loud where Venti himself knows that, no there aren’t any winds. He’s the anemo archon. He can do that. Barbara ple-

Despite how they seem on the surface, Barbara and Venti really like each other’s voices and fully admit to it. They have different styles and Barbara has even tried to hint at Venti to teach her his melodies that she still has troubles with. Barbara was kind of nervous to be teased at when she first approached Venti, since that’s just his nature. But to her surprise he was incredibly sincere and brought her to the Windrise tree to practice. He would strum his lyre while giving pointers to Barbara and it would a nice bonding experience for them that later turned into small lunch dates. 

Meanwhile, Venti think’s it’s so cute and fascinating that Mondstadt has evolved to where music has went from bards singing in taverns to actual concerts. Venti isn’t interested in the idol lifestyle but he enjoys supporting Barbara and carrying her voice throughout the winds. If anyone asks the acoustics are just that good in Mondstadt. You can thank the anemo archon for that and you should definitely buy a green bard a glass of wine for good acoustic luck. 

When Venti makes his special “A Buoyant Breeze” for Barbara he always makes sure to include the heart which makes Barbara flush pink and ignores it. Which leads Venti to pout and whine like an overgrown spoiled cat, even though he’s allergic to them, until Barbara gives up on her man-child of a partner and says that it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten as if Barbatos himself blessed it. She has to get on her hands and knees begging and pleading that “Venti please stop, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it and I will never disgrace the time and effort you put into making this hear-why are you laughing you tone-deaf bard?!” 

Venti is a bit of a troublemaker and thought that since Barbara was his partner, that somehow gave him free reign to do whatever he wanted in the Church. It’s always amusing to others, like Jean, when she sees her sister scolding an archon that no, he cannot burst into service because he was bored. Really everyone knows that Venti just misses her and uses any excuse to see her. They were basically praying to him so it was fine right? 

Barbara and Venti made an unlikely couple and appeared more like siblings with Venti’s constant teasing and Barbara having none of it. But when it’s come to pray in the Church, Barbara puts her heart and soul into everything which both makes Venti happy and sad. He’s happy that Barbara was dedicated to the Archon of Freedom but sad that he wasn’t exactly within her expectations. 

But Barbara has been healing people and making sure everyone was okay, that no matter how much Venti grins or smiles she knows. So she goes to the statue of seven in windrise, right under the giant tree, and prays out loud to Barbatos that she has the best partner in the world who was hectic, made her life a complete mess, constantly played pranks on her, and might be the cause of too many headaches. But that he was also talented and showed her that she had the freedom to pursue anything she set her heart out to do. That she loved him and all his teasing ways. 

Whenever Barbara has her 10 second bouts of sadness, a feather always lands next to her and tickles her face until she starts laughing. Then Venti will suddenly and magically appear and drag her off to a lively tavern where they can both sing a duet. By the time the night is over, she had forgotten what made her upset in the first place. 

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I should probably mention that character x character fics/hcs are going to be a bit shorter than my usual posts. Sorry did I say a bit shorter? Because I’m down to dedicate another fic to this. I love them both. 

But feel free to send any other character x character if you have them. Honestly these are just crack fics. 

I really wanna see someone make a Barbara and Venti clip of them singing to “Anything you can do, I can do better” I would donate my kidney for that. Has that been made? I know someone has but I don’t think it was Barbara and Venti. 

I got one more pairing to write and then it’s time to commit sleep. For a whole hour. I need to learn pacing because I’m gonna end up collapsing into myself before I finish everything. 

[ofgoodmenarchive]

The first in a series of drabbles exploring my Blood Mage!Dorian AU.

Priceless Rewards

It was a beautiful day in the south and Dorian was terribly bored.

Alright, so maybe 'beautiful' was a stretch- but there was no rain, which by Ferelden standards counted for beauteous. Still the sky was dreary- even here in the Hinterlands, the so called 'Heart of the South'. Constant damp livened the vegetation- everything was so green- and so in his way! He couldn't walk two steps without having to wrestle nettles or vines from his robes.

  Why did I agree to this again?

They needed someone not overtly suspicious, he supposed- at least, not suspicious in a particular manner. Dorian could be suspected of many things; by his appearance alone he could be accused of blood magic and perhaps some dubious forms of necromancy. Why else adorn himself in human bones, how else to explain the flash of amber that sometimes possessed his eyes?

Altogether, Dorian ascertained he had to be wearing a whole person- and that excluded his staff, shaped from a spine and skull.

Not all the same person, mind you. Still not a welcoming sight to most.

Granted none were innocent in his eyes- all had threatened his survival in one way or other.

Besides- as long as no one suspected him of working with the Venatori, it didn't matter how he was judged. His employers knew that- and Dorian knew he needed gold and influence to maintain the lifestyle craved by his inner demon.

So there he was, traipsing through the south with a sack full of magical equipment, questing to study Rifts for a group of mad cultists.

  I don't know why they're bothering...

  What did exploding an old woman and her Chantry puppets really achieve?

From his viewpoint, it merely added complication- now there was this 'Herald of Andraste' for the fools to contend with.

  Why can't people just appreciate life for what it is?

He considered to himself with a laugh, kicking aside more vines.

Then again- if the world lacked such madmen, who would risk contracting Dorian for anything? An open practitioner of blood magic, long-disgraced from his house? Of course whenever someone sought him out, their motivations were not exactly chivalrous.

While pondering this he approached a Rift and began work. Recognising him as one of their own, the demons barely glanced.

Speaking of which- he was really in need of proper sustenance. Food and wine can fulfil Desire for only so long- especially while sleeping out in the cold wild and not luxurious sheets.

Technically his employers were to blame- anyone with sense was hiding and anyone who might be some fun was miserable. Not that he faulted the local populace for cowering from demons, Templars, mages, holes in reality and Maker knows what else.

  Well. Us, for one. We're here too.

It was gradually creating an issue. Desire's primary source of nourishment came from the desire of others. For Dorian, this meant fuelling himself through a man's desire towards him. When times were well and the populace cheerful, no matter his place he could easily find a willing participant.

However when times were tougher or in this case, when fear of magic and the unknown ran rampant, meeting someone receptive was trying.

  Actually...when you think about it-

  this whole thing is Halward's fault.

A phrase Dorian said to himself often, spitting his father's name like a curse.

Just as often, he would sense the demon admonish what it viewed as weakness.

  Well am I wrong?

  We wouldn't have met if it weren't for him.

Waiting for devices to conclude their measurements, he plopped onto the grass and reminisced.

Dorian had been just a boy, as belligerent a youth as could be. Or that's how his father would excuse it, he was sure.

Perhaps Halward even liked that about his son- sometimes. When he put it to use, when his belligerence somehow went hand-in-hand with achievement.

Not when it caused him to loudly reject their plans, state he'd rather die than live in denial of himself, then run off into the night.

  If he hadn't found me...everything might be different.

Unfortunately Halward ferreted him out somehow. What happened next was a tangle of memory and emotion- what he did recall, was standing in a circle of fire while a voice hissed through his mind.

  Small. Such a small morsel.

  What does the human think I can do with this?

A sensation like needles puncturing his skull. He'd cried out but couldn't move. The creature burrowed into his consciousness, processed and digested in seconds.

  Oh...?

  So much desire.

  Ambition.

  Potential.

His heart drummed, limbs shaken- but still he was incapable of movement. All he saw was flame and all he heard was this ravenous intruder.

  A small meal...but still a meal.

  I could take it all.

  That's what he wants me to do, you know.

Whether through his own discernment or whatever link was strung between them, he understood what the creature meant. Panic increasing, Dorian's thoughts raced, floundering to convey them-

  So he told you 'oh go eat this desire for me', and you're just going to do it?!

  Aren't you a Desire Demon?!

  Don't you want to experience life?!

  Instead you're just going to- going to-

  have a little snack and slink back into the Fade?!

  When we can both maximise our potential- together?!

The voice fell silent, pensive. Dorian stammered to solidify his point.

  Just- just don't change who I am- that's all I ask.

It had fulfilled that promise- for the most part. When Dorian awoke he'd been in his bed, unchanged in every way that mattered to him.

Turning around, a pair of void-black eyes peered back and he'd screamed.

That was the first encounter with his shadow. It was structured vaguely as he was, had his voice, developed as he did. Yet was just a walking silhouette- that only he could see.

Thankfully his demon's wanderings were on an inconsistent basis.

However it didn't take long for Halward- and everyone else, really- to note Dorian changed in every way they hadn't instructed.

Always a morbid child, fixated on necromancy and the dead. His bond with the demon increased this fixation tenfold. Before then, Dorian sometimes preserved deceased animals and toyed with the idea of reviving them with Fade-Wisps. Now it was an unseemly habit- which his family loathed. Cheerful, bumbling creatures of bone and treated flesh roamed the estate, causing minor chaos and disrupting social events.

Eventually his father screamed at him-

  “Dorian Pavus! Clear this undead menagerie or I will take care of them myself!”

  “I WILL NOT!” He'd shrieked back, tossing mice-bones across his bedroom.

Halward did take care of them himself- to the boy's heartbreak and despair. By that point he knew there was discussion of somehow altering him again- he ran and this time, was free.

  Feeling nostalgic?

Desire lured him to the present moment- sitting cross-legged on a nearby rock-pile, seeming amused in it's posture. His shadow- not nearly as intimidating as it had been to him years ago. Dorian smiled, sighing wistfully.

  “Something like that...I think it's more that I'm under-stimulated.”

His companion mirrored this need with a drawn-out exhale.

  “Yes, yes, I know...but when we're done with this, we'll be paid, and then we can head somewhere people aren't so actively terrified for their lives.”

It hummed lowly at this but issued no official complaint. Overall the creature was content in deferring to his judgement- Dorian had never steered them wrong. They were usually well fed, occupied by an exciting project and comfortable- this whole apocalypse business was an unplanned circumstance. Even Dorian hadn't known the Venatori's goals- merely sought to benefit.

The creature's focus appeared to divert- features unobscured enough to gather simple expression.

  “Hrm? Someone there?” He wondered aloud, glancing. Activity further along- a loose group of people trudging through under-brush, chatting casually though he couldn't hear. Dorian lingered at first but soon recognised the Inquisition symbol- a single, glaring eye.

  “Not the people we should try explaining ourselves to, I think.” He decided, chuckling in exasperation. Dorian scooped up his instruments and willed his form to move; vanishing with a flash of embers, he materialised behind some trees and knelt. One advantage to his demonic condition was an ability to veil himself- as long as he didn't do anything too attention-grabbing. Standing around in the open was therefore not viable, so he watched and waited.

Two humans, a dwarf and an elf. A human woman and the elf appeared to lead the pack, both bearing the Inquisition crest. The group ventured for the Rift and Dorian frowned, wondering for their sanity.

A dazzling beam shot outwards, leading his gaze to the elf's hand- connecting him and the Rift. Next there was an explosion and the party launched into combat, too confusing and swift for Dorian to properly assess. By the end all demons and disruptions were extinguished and the elf stood to one side, surveying the area.

Dorian couldn't make out terribly much- obvious details; the radiance emitted by his hand and the weapon used in lieu of a staff, a sword-hilt with light where there would be steel. Dark hair, pale, Dalish- judging by the blue patterns decorating his face. Much taller than elves inclined towards being- he loomed over his party and seemed awkwardly aware of it, stooping whenever one moved to speak with him.

Each person drifted to scout the clearings edge and Dorian sat perfectly still. None wandered his direction and the elf appeared disinterested, loitering where the Rift had been dispelled.

Until he abruptly turned and marched almost straight for Dorian. Stopping just as suddenly, he peered down at scorched earth left by the maleficar's retreat.

  Maker's breath!

  Don't tell me he's going to notice me because of that?!

He was near enough for Dorian to study closer- light scarring on serious features, frosty eyes that pierced everything they saw.

Intense- but attractive. Perhaps more-so because of that intensity.

For a few heartbeats he was certain he'd been spotted- but the elf swivelled away, muttering.

  “Something wrong?” The woman asked, her voice distinctly Nevarran.

  “Burnt ground. I thought it odd.” He answered, falling in pace with his fellows.

  “Why odd? It would be from a demon, no?”

  “I saw none there when we fought.” His speech was a little stilted- possibly more accustomed to his native tongue.

  “From the Rift, then. It hardly matters.”

Their discussion was swallowed by forest and Dorian sprang forth, unleashing his shock.

  “That's the Herald?!” He exclaimed, laughing in charmed bewilderment.

Feeling eyes upon him, Dorian faced his shadow- standing within the tree-cluster, watching it's host ponderously.

Without speech or much communication at all, he knew they thought as one.

Dorian tossed the bag of instruments to the ground and booted it aside, half-snarling, half-laughing.

  “To the void with this dirty work!” Meeting his companion's gaze, he smirked. “I just thought of a reward the Venatori can't possibly hand over to us!”

Vague contours of the creature's mouth parted, displaying pointed teeth in a grin.

  The Herald of Andraste.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Summary: Doctor!Bucky has a day off but instead of leaving the hospital to go home, he decided to spend it at the bedside of the woman he loves.

Word Count: 4592

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Doctor!Bucky x Platonic!Nurse!Wanda, mentions of Steve, Sam, Natasha & Sharon as minor characters

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse & Alcoholism, Surgery, Organ Donation, IV & Needles, Emotional Distress, Physical Pain, Drugs, Hospital Stay

A/N: Doctor!Bucky is my guilty pleasure.But I have more Bucky AUs and a Chris Beck one-shot coming soon!

It was the hint of orange against the dark blue sky that marked the start of dawn. As Dr. James Barnes found himself awakening from his slumber, he rubbed his eyes to look up at the pasty white ceiling of the dimly lit on call room where he had taken refuge after his ten-hour surgery. Working long shifts that typically lasted twelve to fifty consecutive hours depending on the circumstances had become a routine for him. Although he did appreciate taking a day or two off once he had reached his weekly limit, he could not get himself to go home that night. His lack of sleep, combined with his aching limbs as a result of being on his feet for almost a whole day, meant that he could not even drive home. He had no choice but to stay within the premises for the night.

As he climbed out of bed, he retrieved his navy blue scrub shirt from the tiled floor of the on call room and shrugged it on, rubbing his eyes again as he let out another yawn. He ran his fingers through his jet black mane, noticing that a few strands of his hair were still partially wet. He had found some time for a quick shower before he had made it to the on call room, but he had just been too lazy to dry his hair. He tucked a few loose strands behind his ear before making the bed. It took him a moment to be completely rid of his fatigue and he remembered the beeping sound that had woken him up. His picked up his pager that rested upon the nightstand where he had left it before he had crashed a few hours ago.

Upon checking his page from Wanda, his most-trusted nurse, Bucky picked up the phone and dialed the extension code for the nurse's desk at the post-op ward. "Hey, this is Dr. Barnes returning a page." He said, groggily, to which he earned chuckle from his favorite nurse.

"You told me to page you when Y/N wakes up, Barnes." She told him. "Did you forget?"

"... Right. Sorry, I'm still half asleep." He let out another yawn. He had completely forgotten that your surgery had been last night. He had been planning to sit in the gallery and watch Dr. Romanoff operate on you once his shift had come to an end. But with an unexpected emergency pulling him away for the night, he had only managed to get a glimpse of you in post-op by the time he had returned from his surgery. Had Wanda not urged him to get some shut-eye while he awaited for you to wake, Bucky would have probably dropped to the floor. He was too exhausted to even be worried about you, it seemed. But hearing Wanda mention your name had fully woken him up in an instant. "I-I-I'll be over there in a moment..." He said between a yawn, clipping his pager onto his waistband before slipping into his black tennis shoes. 

"I figured. There's a cup of coffee here at the nurses' desk with your name on it. I'll see you when you get here, Doc." With that, she hung up.

It took Bucky a few moments to gather himself before he walked out of the on call room. Perhaps, it was a good thing that he had the next two days off from work, thanks to his overworking nature that had resulted in him reaching his weekly limit of hours he could work. If he were in the OR at this state though, he probably could not even tell the difference between a vein and an artery if he wanted to. It was for the best. If anything, he needed to be forced to take the time off. Plus, he was planning on spending his time off by your bedside if you needed him. It was just an added bonus. 

He jogged his way up the stairs to the nurse's desk on the post-op floor. "Wanda, you're a godsend." He picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip, feeling the bitterness of the dark roast seep down his throat, followed by the urge to spit out this concoction that was the farthest away in taste from his usual vanilla bean latte. "Never mind. Actually, I take that back. You're not a godsend. This coffee is absolutely disgusting and it's such a disgrace to humankind."

The perky nurse let out a laugh from behind her computer screen before shaking her head. "Don't you dare be such an ungrateful little shit, Barnes."

He rolled his eyes as he set down the coffee. "Don't you dare speak to your boss like that."

"Why? What are you going to do? Fire me?" She asked as she looked up at him, her eyebrow raised.

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully at her attitude, even though he felt like it was way too early in the morning for them to be bickering like this. Even though Wanda was only a nurse, the two of them had known each other since he had been a pre-med student at NYU. Aside from Steve, whom he had known since childhood, and Sam, whom he had only met while they were both residents, Wanda was someone who had become a younger sister to him. Having lost her own brother at a young age, she too had accepted him as a brotherly figure over the years. Their constant sibling-like banter was just proof of how close they really were and almost everyone at this hospital knew about their bond. "Or I could trade you with Sam for Sharon."

"Asshole." Wanda rolled her eyes back at him before taking back his coffee, taking a sip of it and watching his face fill with disgust.

He leaned against the desk, shifting his weight from his left leg to his right. "Has anyone from her family been down to see her yet?" The look in his eyes filled with concern and the tone of his voice was softer than it was before, it was hushed. For some reason, a part of him feared that the others might hear him and come to know of his deepest secret, his love for the woman he worked with. 

She shook her head as she turned away from the screen once again. "Not that I know of. I did notice her mother go in and out of her father's room until visiting hours were over. And then I saw her sitting at the lobby when I went down to get coffee. She seems to be sticking around the premises but I don't think she intends to go and see her daughter."

He let out a sigh of disbelief before shaking his head. A part of him knew that he should not be pissed at your situation; it was none of his business. But he could not help but be angered by the way your family was treating you after what you had just done for them. Perhaps, it was because he valued human life so much that he respected your sacrifice, or it was because he valued you as a human being much more than they did. But Bucky was not going to let anyone else treat you like shit. He was sure of it. "Unbelievable." 

Wanda raised her eyebrow at him. "Please don't tell me that you're going to go out there and yell at them? This is none of your business." If there was anyone in this entire hospital who knew about Dr. James Barnes' feelings for Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, it was her. "And I don't think she would want that."

"No, I know that but I have to say... they're the ungrateful shits here, Wanda." 

"It was Y/N's choice, Bucky." She reminded him. "It was her body and her choice."

"You know, she said those exact words to me when I told her not to risk her own life to save the man who destroyed her childhood. She sounded just like Steve that I wasn't even surprised. He taught her well." He laughed at the thought of how his attempt to talk you out of donating your liver had been defeated. "She's better than any of us could ever be." 

Though you hadn't been as close to him as you were with Steve, Bucky had taken a strong liking to you over the last few years. You had first come to this Brooklyn hospital to take up a fellowship in cardio-thoracic surgery with the incomparable Dr. Steve Rogers. As you were a career-driven woman who was extremely focused on the job, Steve had taken you under his wing and taught you everything you knew as a surgeon and as a human being.

"She's a natural, Buck." He would beam with pride for his young fellow while he drank with his best friend after a hard day's work. "You would love her." Bucky and Steve had been best friends since childhood. They had graduated high school together before going off to NYU for pre-med. After being neck and neck with their MCAT scores, they had also attended Columbia Medical School together. They had survived the competitive stage of residency and trained together under the best cardio-thoracic surgeon in the country, only to return to their hometown of Brooklyn and work side by side. They were practically inseparable. 

If Steve had only known how right he had been back then about how much Bucky would love you if he ever met you, now that Bucky had realized it himself. You had first met him at one of the worst points during your fellowship, having lost your first patient while you had been training under Dr. Rogers. It had been Steve's decision to let you fly solo for that particular procedure, but things had slipped out of your hand in the matter of a millisecond. You found yourself sobbing in an on call room and beating yourself up for it. A life was lost on your operating table and you had taken an oath to do no harm. It crushed you when you realized that you had disappointed your mentor, after all those sleepless nights of studying so hard to get yourself where you were.

It wasn't easy for you to be alone from such a young age, especially with no support from your family and no real friends. You had lived on your own since you were eighteen years old, having fled your abusive home to find yourself a safe place here in New York. After your impeccable grades had managed to get you into NYU with a scholarship, you had pushed yourself through the next eight years of schooling while you worked two part-time jobs to make ends meet. Your mother hadn't even bothered to show up at your medical school graduation even though you had sent her an invite, not that it really mattered to you anyways. You had come to terms with the fact that you were all that you had. You had built a life for yourself and a career that was going to be your backbone; you didn't need people, you thought. But that night, even your career had seemed to be letting you down. 

That was when you had met Dr. Barnes, the next best heart surgeon in the hospital, who had managed to scramble into the nearest on call room that night for a power nap, only to run into your tearful self. He had asked you what was wrong and you had poured your heart out to him. If you had been so worried about disappointing Steve, you might as well ask Steve's best friend about how to handle it. As it turned out, he somehow possessed a different approach to teaching than his best friend. He claimed that Steve shouldn't have let you take on that patient until you had been prepared for what you had now missed, but he understood the reason why he had done that. After all, Dr. Rogers did have a reputation for being a little unconventional in his teaching. It was one of the reasons why you had been determined to work with him in the first place. "I feel like I failed him." You had told Dr. Barnes in the midst of tears. "I don't think I'm good enough for this, Dr. Barnes." 

"We've all been there, Dr. Y/L/N. We've all lost patients. We've all blamed ourselves for the things that are always beyond our hands. There are some things that we as doctors can't control. Steve didn't get where he is without losing a single patient during all those years of training. I didn't get where I am without losing a patient. We are not perfect. We're human. You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened. You should learn from it and be better the next time around. Steve can be a jerk sometimes, I can tell you that. But if he told you to walk it off, you walk it off." He had told you, making you chuckle through your tears. "I'm not going to tell you that the road ahead is easy. But you signed up for this so you have to deal with the good and the bad." 

"I don't think I can ever be as good as him." You admitted, sighing in defeat. "I don't think I could ever be as good as you." 

"Then you should probably aim to be better than us." 

Looking back at that conversation now, Bucky couldn't help but realize that you had in fact been better than the two of them. The years had managed to mold your extremely formal mentor-student relationships with them into a much more genuine and beautiful friendship. Steve had become family to you, after having learned of your own familial situation. With his friendship came your friendship with Bucky, Wanda, Sam and Natasha. They were your family now, not the people that you shared blood with. Your biological family hadn't been the best but the family that you had found for yourself in New York were much better.

When you had learned from Natasha that her recent patient with liver failure happened to be your alcoholic father whom you had fled all those years ago, a part of you refused to remember that you even had actual parents. But you were human, after all, and you were bound by your emotions. Looking into his file, you had come across the fact that he was going to be put on the donor list. As they had not found a match for a liver transplant, you had volunteered to get tested and found that you were a perfect match. Your mother had been selfish enough to save her husband's life that she had accepted it. Dr. Romanoff stood by what was best for her patient as any doctor should be. Sam and Steve had respected your choice, commending you for coming forward to save the life of the man who had once ruined yours.

But Bucky had somehow tried to talk you out of the surgery, fearing that it would put you in danger. A liver transplant was no joke. Not to mention that he did not agree with the fact that you were willing to give a piece of your own flesh to save your father's life, expecting absolutely nothing in return. But you had convinced him that as a doctor and as a human being, this was the right thing to do. Even though Natasha was a great general surgeon, he did not undermine her expertise. He was just worried that something inevitable might take you from him during this surgery. He realized that he had loved you so much that he did not want to lose you. But thankfully, the things beyond the control of a doctor that he had once told you about did not get in the way when your own life was on the table. 

The beeping sound of the cardiac monitor was a constant reminder that you had survived this surgery. Not that you even doubted Natasha's ability to perform a partial liver transplant. She was definitely the best general surgeon at the hospital. But your fear of the unforeseeable factor had been present ever since you had agreed for this surgery. Even when the anesthesia had been administered and you found yourself slowly losing your consciousness, you had hoped that you would wake up from this on the flip side of the eight hour procedure.

Wanda had been at your bedside the moment you opened your eyes. You had been thankful to see a familiar face, not that any of the hospital staff were unfamiliar to you. But a part of you had expected that you wouldn't be waking up to your mother or an extended family member sitting next to your bed in anticipation of you waking up. Clearly, you had been right about that. Despite the fact that you had now saved your father's life, they could not be bothered about your well-being. They never were,

Being alone as a doctor was not that much of big deal but being alone as a patient sucked. Not only did you have to deal with the nerves before the surgery and the physical pain after it, but there was also the two month recovery time that could not be spent alone in bed rest. You did not know how you were going to survive that, but as you were used to being alone for all these years, you need not to worry. You'll cross that bridge when you get to it.

After checking your vitals and bringing you a cup of water to ail the dryness in your throat, the nurse had left the room. You had asked her about your father's post-op condition but she hadn't said anything about that. It made you worry for the slightest. What if he had suffered the complications of this operation? What if his body had rejected the piece of yours that you had voluntarily given up? That would have made your sacrifice so pointless. You did care about him, even though he had been so horrible to you. It wasn't because he was your father. You had stopped thinking of him that way years ago. But you were a doctor and he was a patient. You had what it took to save his life, ironically which was his blood, and you had made the call to step up.

The sound of footsteps against the cold tiled floor of your hospital room made you gently turn your head towards the door. Wanda had adjusted your bed to help you sit upright but it was still a little uncomfortable for you. Now that the anesthesia had slowly worn off, you were starting to feel some pain in your side. But your chapped lips curled into a weak smile when your eyes landed on the handsome doctor who had just entered the room.

His hair was not as perfectly coiffed as you remembered but it was still as silky as you remembered, the dark strands glistening against the light of the morning sky. His ocean blue eyes looked calm and a lot less blood shot than you were used to. The Dr. Barnes you knew and loved was a sleep deprived mess who cared more about his patients than his own health. But the man who stood before you looked refreshing, like coming up for a breath of fresh air just before you thought you were going to drown. You felt safe in his presence, you had always did. 

"I wasn't expecting any visitors at this time and I certainly wasn't expecting a visit from you." You managed to croak out, taking another sip of the water that the nurse had handed you earlier. "But I'll take it."

"Why would that be the case, Dr. Y/L/N?" The man chuckled as he pulled up a chair next to your bed and sat down.  You noticed that he was still wearing scrubs and it made you wonder. Had he been working all night and decide to stop by before he headed home? Or had he just arrived at the hospital for the start of his shift and decided to check on you before he was to begin his morning rounds?

"Because I went against your advice for the first time ever. You told me not to go through with this transplant and I did." You reminded him as you sighed. "I just assumed that you would be mad at me."

"Well, it was your choice." He just shrugged. "And now that I think of it, you may or may not have followed another one of my advice."

You let out a soft chuckle, followed by a wince at the pain that you felt in your side, now that the anesthesia was finally wearing off. You knew that you had the option to control your own pain medications through IV but you did not want to fall back into a deep sleep, especially not when James Barnes was sitting before you. "I thought you hated me." You admitted. "You didn't even come down to see me off before the surgery. Rogers was there, even Wilson and Carter. But you were nowhere to be seen."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't be there. I wanted to. But a trauma came in, flail chest, I had to go down for a consult and I was held up." He replied as he reached forward to take your hand in his. "How are you feeling?"

You gave him a nod as you smiled weakly, feeling his gentle grip against your hand. "For someone who's missing a pound of flesh, it's not as painful as I thought it would be. But then there are also several tubes attached to my body and that's not the most attractive thing on the planet." A part of you was worried that you probably looked like a disaster. Along with the IV that was pumping fluids and medications into your body to keep you hydrated, you also had a catheter in your bladder to prevent you from having to get up to go to the bathroom, and several drainage tubes in your abdomen to drain the blood and bile from your body after the surgery. A part of you was embarrassed to have Bucky see you like this. Despite the fact that he was a doctor, who was definitely used to dealing with much worse on a daily basis, you couldn't help but wonder if he thought you were unattractive like this.

"A pound of flesh?" He asked, giving you a confused look.

"Shakespeare." You clarified, wincing again at the pain. A part of you wanted to up the dose on your pain medications. But you feared the risk of the nausea and other complications and side effects that would follow. "The Merchant of Venice takes out a loan and promises to pay Shylock a pound of his flesh... if he doesn't pay back the money on time. It's a good play. You should read it sometime, you know... if you ever find yourself with a day off from cutting into people's broken hearts." You fought the urge to laugh but you failed, feeling the pain in your abdomen only growing by the second. 

"Oh, I don't think I could be able to handle Shakespeare. I wasn't the best student in my English class and I was more into the science side of things."

"And you have the medical degree to prove it." You stated with another laugh, only to wince again at the pain which continued to get worse. "Oh fuck..." 

Bucky leaned over in his chair to reach for your PCA remote on the bed side, his eyes filled with worry as his lips curled into a frown. He looked over at you for approval. "Do you want me to do it?"

"I thought I could avoid having to pump all those drugs into my body but..." You paused and bit down on your bottom lip as the pain took over your entire abdomen, making you hold your breath for a moment in hopes that it would dissolve. But it only got worse. "Please..?" You shut your eyes as the tears pricked at your eyes, hoping that Dr. Barnes wouldn't notice them stream down your face.

"Y/N..." He hated to see you in pain. "Are you sure you don't want me to page Romanoff?"

"Oh shit, that hurts like a bitch." You felt him squeeze your hand before pushing the button for another dose of pain meds to pump through your IV. "No, no... it's fine. She'll be down here for rounds anyways. Don't bother rushing her to get to work this early in the morning. She's not a morning person and would probably kill you. Just give me the meds. I should be fine."

He nodded as he watched the computer screen, making sure the medication was being pumped into your IV as it was supposed to. "If you start feel drowsy, you just let me know, okay? Don't try to fight it. You lost a lot of fluids. You need to rest." He still hadn't let go of your hand and you squeezed it tightly as you waited for the pain meds to kick in.

"Don't you have rounds? You should go. I should be fine once the drugs kick in." You loosened your grip on his hand wanting to let him go back to work, but he still held onto it, never letting go. 

"I went over my weekly limit and I got the next two days off. I just thought I might stick around so that you won't be alone." He told you, making the pain stricken tears finally stream down your face. You couldn't hold them in anymore. Perhaps it was the medication or the emotional trauma that came with having your abdomen cut open. You felt stupid. He had been right. Your family did not care about you. You were alone. He was only here because he pitied you. 

"You don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

As you began to feel drowsy, your mind refused to believe what you were hearing. Did Dr. Barnes just say that he wanted to spend his day off by your bedside? You shut your eyes, trying not to lose your consciousness as you slowly felt the pain begin to numb away. Bucky still hadn't let your hand go as he sat down next to you. "You were right, Dr. Barnes." You whispered but you weren't sure if he had heard you. Perhaps, you had just thought it in your head and he hadn't heard you. But he did not respond for a moment. 

"Well, you're better than me, doll." You heard him whisper and then you felt his warm breath against your eyelids. It took you a moment for you to realize that he was leaning over your bed. You then felt his free hand stroking your hair before your felt his soft lips press gently against your forehead. You felt it all, the love that he had been holding in his heart for all these years. He probably thought you wouldn't have noticed. But you had. 

[tabloidtoc]

National Enquirer, October 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Queen Elizabeth’s 73-year sham marriage to Prince Philip collapses

Page 2: Kanye West is in top-secret talks to launch his own TV network and is crowing it will be bigger than the Kardashians -- he wants it to reflect his lofty vision of what the world should be and to provide a spiritual awakening for the masses but he doesn’t realize there aren’t a lot of people who want to spend hours a day listening to him rant about how the world would be a better place if he was in charge -- meanwhile Kim Kardashian is at the end of her rope again 

Page 3: Furious Angelina Jolie is tearing into Brad Pitt’s new girlfriend Nicole Poturalski blasting her as a scheming psycho and as a borderline stalker who is dating Brad just to get famous and it’s going to end in disaster for the whole family not just him so she’s already told Brad to keep Nicole away from their kids and she’s looking to make this part of their ongoing legal case 

Page 4: Newly single Kelly Clarkson has enlisted fellow country star Maren Morris to help her find a new man -- Maren advised Kelly to use her talk show to connect with men she admires but Kelly may have taken her advice a little too literally when she had her crush Keanu Reeves on the show and was drooling all over him though she knows it’s probably wishful thinking 

Page 5: Ellen DeGeneres kicked off her new season by publicly apologizing for allegations of misconduct on her talk show but body language experts blasted her remarks as tone deaf and missing the mark totally 

Page 6: Jimmy Fallon’s wife Nancy Juvonen is furious over the time he spends nurturing his bond with close pal Kathie Lee Gifford -- Jimmy loves to reminisce about the old days at NBC with the former Today yakker especially during today’s challenging times and he worships her and he’s the only late-night host who treats Kathie Lee like an A-lister but Nancy can’t stand Kathie Lee’s constant self-obsessed talk and considers her a squeaky third wheel 

Page 7: Cher keeps trying to turn back time with plastic surgery but the results have been disastrous and although she insists her most recent work is a facelift her kisser is frozen and packed with Botox and fillers and lip injections -- she also appears to have had a nose job and a face and neck lift to achieve a smooth jawline and neck and the results have left Cher barely able to move her face and even made it difficult for her to speak let alone sing, disgraced chef Paula Deen had emergency eye surgery this summer in a desperate bid to save her sight -- Paula had been suffering from declining vision for months and was shocked when doctors told her the cornea was dying and going under the knife was necessary to save her sight 

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Tiger Woods took a brief break during practice, Leighton Meester caught some waves in Malibu, Kristen Taekman in a New York Jets bikini, Dolph Lundgren doffed his mask after leaving a lunch date in Beverly Hills, Dominic Cooper took his electric bike for a spin in London 

Page 11: Cash-strapped Tori Spelling and husband Dean McDermott are back in couples therapy and on the verge of filing for bankruptcy -- they’re in counseling for the same old stuff which is their constant fighting and spending money and work that isn’t happening -- the parents of five were hit with tax liens totaling nearly $1 million and were also sued by American Express over an unpaid credit card bill of almost $90,000 which Tori asked her mother Candy Spelling who is worth about $600 million to pay but Candy refused and after Candy revealed her plans to leave her fortune to animal charities Tori and Dean may file for bankruptcy because they both love to spend, Bravo bigwigs are hoping hotel heiress Kathy Hilton will fill the vacancy left by Denise Richards and Teddi Mellencamp on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and producers are trying to keep ratings high by getting veteran Kyle Richards to recruit sister and former castmate Kim Richards and half sister Kathy -- Kathy is said to be high on producers’ wish list because of her wit and humor and is also considered old-school Beverly Hills and show brass want her to bring a certain glamour and sophistication to the show 

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Demi Lovato at a NYC screening party (picture), when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve in Times Square Anderson Cooper won’t be there because he would rather be at home with his baby boy, The Bachelor has cut all ties with Colton Underwood after his ex Cassie Randolph got a temporary restraining order against him, Teresa Giudice plans to move to NYC after listing her New Jersey mansion but she still wants to keep her job on The Real Housewives of New Jersey and to get around that Teresa hopes to pretend she’s moved into her brother Joe Gorga’s home in Jersey 

Page 13: John Legend revealed couples therapy helps strengthen his marriage to Chrissy Teigen and said they keep their romance going strong by communicating and being considerate and listening, Jackie Stallone was more than just Sylvester Stallone’s mom -- she was also one of the world top astrologers and psychics who predicted the fall of the Berlin Wall and Kanye West’s presidential run 

Page 14: Crime -- convicted Melrose Place killer Amy Locane is in lockup again for a fatal 2010 drunk-driving smashup that took one life and nearly took another after a New Jersey Superior Court Judge said she got off too easy by serving two years behind bars and sentenced Amy to eight more years in state prison 

Page 15: The gruesome house of horrors where Drew Carey’s ex-fiancee Amie Harwick brutally met her untimely end is on the market for $1.5 million and her family can’t wait to get rid of it, Shannen Doherty is in pretty good spirits amid her ongoing battle with stage 4 breast cancer according to her former Beverly Hills 90210 co-star Jason Priestley

Page 16: Cover Story -- After decades of turning a blind eye to her husband’s cheating Queen Elizabeth’s 72-year marriage has shockingly collapsed and Prince Philip is now banished to a remote cottage far away from the monarch -- despite royal courtiers painting a rosy picture of the couple quarantining together at Windsor Castle since March the truth is their marriage has been a sham for decades and they’ve been living separate lives for over 50 years and all this forced togetherness was simply too much for them -- Philip has been cheating on Elizabeth since before they were married and has several love children; he has rumored to have had flings with actress Helene Cordet and Daphne du Maurier and Pat Kirkwood and Jane Russell and Merle Oberon and Zsa Zsa Gabor and Princess Alexandria and Sacha Duchess of Abercorn and most recently Lady Penny Romsey -- there will be no divorce and they will just quietly continue their separate lives to the end of their days but the queen never wants to see Philip again 

Page 18: Larry King’s estranged wife Shawn Southwick is demanding $33,000 a month in spousal support because she claims she gave up her music and TV career to marry the frail talk show host and then raise their sons Chance and Cannon, Hollywood Hookups -- Halle Berry and Van Hunt dating, 90 Day Fiance stars Ashley Martson and Jay Smith split for good, Justin Duggar dating Claire Spivey 

Page 19: Tom Cruise is set to shoot the first major movie in outer space and he’s headed to the International Space Station in October 2021 with director Doug Liman -- the two and possibly one additional actor will hitch a ride aboard Elon Musk’s SpaceX Crew Dragon capsule to film the unnamed project, the IV needle allegedly used to administer the fatal dose of propofol to Michael Jackson on June 25 of 2009 is up for auction by the estate of the late singer’s father Joe and the chilling item used by Michael’s physician Dr. Conrad Murray is reportedly still stained with Michael’s blood -- it was submitted to the auction by Michael’s cousin Marsha Stewart who says she took it from Michael’s bedroom days after he died, Sharon Stone has pressed her lips on a long list of Hollywood hunks but picked Robert De Niro as far and away the best kisser but rated her other leading men as kind of like meh 

Page 20: Stars Playing Stars -- how they did it -- Muhammad Ali and Will Smith, Frida Kahlo and Salma Hayek, Ray Charles and Jamie Foxx 

Page 21: Marilyn Monroe and Michelle Williams, Queen Elizabeth and Helen Mirren, Billie Holiday and Diana Ross, Bob Dylan and Cate Blanchett 

Page 22: An adopted son of Mia Farrow and Woody Allen has charged it was his mother not his father who was the monster in the family -- Moses Farrow says Woody did not molest adopted daughter Dylan Farrow in 1992 and that he can no longer stay silent as Woody continues to be condemned for a crime he did not commit 

Page 26: Less than nine months after Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna died in a helicopter crash a vicious feud has ripped the family apart -- the row erupted between his widow Vanessa Bryant and her mother Sofia Laine after Sofia went on TV to publicly accuse her daughter of tossing her out of the family home -- Vanessa feels she’s already given her mom so much and then she heard through the grapevine that Sofia complained she should have more -- it does seem cold that Vanessa would take such action against her mother but she’s ready to take on anyone using her husband and child’s deaths as a selfish cash grab and that includes Sofia 

Page 27: Danny Masterson’s rape trial is looming and the Church of Scientology is doing everything in its power to back the scandal-scarred actor -- the church’s leaders have assigned their top lawyers to aid Danny who is a prominent member of the religion and the lawyers are scouring every law on the books to get the case thrown out or get him acquitted -- the church has previously been accused of trying to get the other side’s defenses dismissed or judges thrown off cases and using all manner of tactics to delay due process 

Page 28: American Life -- Bighearted ex-billionaire Chuck Feeney has spent 38 years giving away nearly all of his vast fortune and the generous do-gooder said he wouldn’t have had it any other way 

Page 29: Famed stoner Willie Nelson can’t stop sampling his own marijuana products and now friends fear the 87-year-old music legend is smoking himself to death -- Willie’s a believer in the powers of cannabis and promotes it passionately but years of smoking has done a number on his lungs and he can barely breathe at times, Julia Duffy has been keeping close a tragic heartache for more than a year -- her only son Danny Lacy committed suicide at age 29 after years of suffering from mental health issues 

Page 34: Comic Kathy Griffin has seen her popularity plummet in recent years and it’s played a role in her plans to sell her sprawling Bel Air estate -- Kathy has burned a lot of bridges and concerts and TV appearances have dried up because of her many industry conflicts so she’s trying to unload her massive manor with wine cellar and movie theater and eight bedrooms for $16 million -- she didn’t want to sell it but the cost and size have become too much for her to handle 

Page 36: Health Watch 

Page 38: CIA bigwigs once hired a psychic to determine if there was life on Mars -- the misguided mission was said to be part of Project Stargate which was launched in 1978 and somehow cost an astronomical $20 million after the CIA hired a man who claimed he could see the surface of the planet in his mind -- the unnamed man claimed he could see huge pyramids and an obelisk structure and road networks on the Red Planet as well as living creatures, John Lennon’s killer Mark David Chapman shocked the parole board when he admitted he deserved the death penalty even as he begged for his freedom at his last hearing -- his murderous motive was seeking self-glory -- the board denied his parole saying they found his statement infamy brings you glory disturbing 

Page 42: Red Carpet -- London Fashion Week 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Luke Bryan and his dog Choc 

Page 47: Odd List -- doctors remove granny’s football-sized tumor 

[angelsarts]

I'm sorry to be a bother but, could we have a new anime list? I don't mind if it involves the animes on the original list!

O-K!! I will friendo!

1. My hero Academia! - adventure, superhero

Born without special powers in a world where 80% of the population has them, Izuku Midoriya still dreams of becoming a hero. An unexpected encounter with the legendary hero All Might gives him a chance to change his fate, but first he must master his newly-acquired Quirk in order to pass U.A.’s entrance exam.

2. Ore Monogatari! - Romantic comedy

With his muscular build and tall stature, Takeo Gouda is not exactly your average high school freshman. However, behind his intimidating appearance hides a heart of gold, and he is considered a hero by the boys for his courage and chivalry. Unfortunately, these traits do not help much with his love life. As if his looks are not enough to scare the opposite sex away, Takeo’s cool and handsome best friend and constant companion Makoto Sunakawa easily steals the hearts of the female students—including every girl Takeo has ever liked.

When Takeo gallantly saves cute and angelic Rinko Yamato from being molested, he falls in love with her instantly, but suspects that she might be interested in Sunakawa. With his own love for Yamato continuing to bloom, Takeo unselfishly decides to act as her cupid, even as he yearns for his own love story.

3. Gakuen babysitter - Comedy-drama, Slice of life, School story

After their parents are killed in a plane crash, Ryuuichi and his younger brother Kotarou are taken in by Youko Morinomiya, the stern chairman of an elite academy whose son and daughter-in-law died in the same accident. The Chairman makes it clear that in exchange for being their legal guardians, Ryuuichi must work outside of class hours at the school’s daycare, where Kotarou will stay during the day.

The series tells the story of the daycare children’s antics as well as how the two brothers adapt to their new lives.

4. Fruits basket - comedy romance slice of life

After her mother’s death, Tohru Honda finds herself living with the Sohma family consisting of three cousins: Yuki, the ‘prince charming’ of their high school, Kyo the hot headed, short tempered outcast, and Shigure the mischievous novelist, if not sometimes that of a pervert. Tohru finds out the Sohma family secret that when a member is hugged by the opposite gender or they are tired out, they turn into the 12 animals of the Chinese zodiac. Filled with many lovable character and many plot twists along the way, life at the Sohma house will never be the same again.

5. Say I love you - pure shoujo

Friends will only let you down—that is the sad truth Mei Tachibana lives with, ever since she was wrongfully blamed for the death of a class pet by her so-called friends in grade school. Since then, she stays away from people in order to avoid ever being hurt again. However, Mei’s life begins to change drastically when a misunderstanding in high school causes her to encounter popular student Yamato Kurosawa.

Yamato finds her intriguing and insists on being her friend, even though Mei wants nothing to do with him. But when a dangerous situation ends with Yamato kissing Mei to save her from the unwanted attention of a stalker, Mei begins to develop feelings for him. On the heels of her discovery that their feelings are mutual, they start dating and she gains not only a boyfriend, but friends as well. Mei, however, finds it very hard to adapt to this new lifestyle, especially in expressing her true feelings towards Yamato.

6. Yuri on ice - sports

After a disgrace in the Grand Prix Final, Japanese figure skater Katsuki Yuri seeks to retire. Victor Nikiforov, Russian world champion in figure skating is known for his surprises but is feeling stuck when he realises he has no more surprises left. When Yuri dances to Victor’s most famous routine 'Stay Close to Me’ the video is posted online and is seen by Victor. In this moment the Russian world champion decides to move to Japan and become Yuri’s coach. Over the course of various competitions, the two form a powerful bond and see that each other was all they needed to accomplish what both had hoped for.

7.  Kyou kara maou - comedy, fantasy adventure with a hint of gayness

Kyou kara Maou! revolves around Yuri Shibuya, your average Japanese teenager. One day, Yuri sees a classmate being harassed by bullies. Thanks to this intervention, his friend is able to escape, but unfortunately Yuri becomes the new target of the bullies in the process and gets his head shoved into a toilet. But instead of water, the toilet contains a swirling portal that sucks him into another world, largely resembling medieval Europe. There, he is told that he will become the next Demon King due to his black hair and black eyes, traits only possessed by the demon’s royal lineage.Yuri’s arrival is met with some skepticism by some of the demons, who view him as unworthy to be their king. However, after Yuri wins a duel by utilizing his magical powers, the demons slowly begin to acknowledge him as their monarch. Yuri must now learn what it takes be a true Demon King, as he tries to keep the peace between demons and humans in this strange new realm.

8. Princess Jellyfish -  comedy romance

Ever since her late mother took her to an aquarium when she was young, Tsukimi Kurashita has been obsessed with jellyfish, comparing their flowing tentacles to a princess’s white dress. Now living with five other unemployed otaku women, 19-year-old Tsukimi spends her days as a social outcast dreaming of becoming an illustrator.

However, her life changes forever when one day, a beautiful woman unexpectedly helps her save a jellyfish in a local pet store. From then on, the stranger—confident, fashionable, and the complete opposite of Tsukimi and her roommates—begins to regularly visit the girls’ building. This trendy hipster, though appearing shallow at first, harbours some secrets of her own, starting with the fact that “she” isn’t really a girl at all, but a wealthy male college student named Kuranosuke Koibuchi!

9. Fullmetal Alchemist - adventure, sci fi, dark fantasy

The Elric brothers’ mother is dead and their father has long since abandoned them. Deciding to perform a forbidden human transmutation to bring their mother back, they end up losing their bodies. Now Edward must join the military in order to gain certain alchemical privileges, with his one goal being to restore his brother to his original state. But with war on the horizon it’s only a matter of time before they are both forced to question their morals and ultimately decide the value of human life.

10. The world god only knows - comedy romance

Keima Katsuragi prefers immersing himself in the 2D world, chasing digital girlfriends. However, after answering a mysterious email he finds himself bound by a contract helping the demon Elsie capture 'lost souls’ from the underworld. He must now win over these real-life ladies in order to fill the void in their hearts which these souls have entered, releasing the souls and allowing for their capture. Also to further motivate, if he does not perform this 'duty’ a collar around his neck will explode.

[jazzy-art-time]

SwSh Story Concepts

Although the “story” I have with my SwSh playthrough, I did change some stuff with how some aspects work n stuff to my OWN PERSONAL liking So below the cut is just some facts n stuff!  Feel free to ignore if that isn’t your thing! As it is um... just my own silly concepts and ideas that I have for my own personal story with them~

MAY ADD MORE STUFF ON WITH TIME for shit I remember/come up with

The Gym Challenge happens once every year or so, it isn’t a constant thing as that would constantly be a cluster fuck of stuff going on at once and people have lives ya know? Some people still go and try to challenge the gym leaders n such! But it’s THE big televised event. More or less the Gym Challenge Event is a year or two year type of event. Makes it more of a BIG EVENT rather than a “ah yeah this again”.

The gym challengers are sent off to participate in the challenges at different times. They all take the same gym challenge, but merely start at different times. The Veterans (people who have taken it before and failed) go first. Experienced Trainers go second. (full teams, have battled lots before etc) Children go Third (a nice head start for the lil ones) Then Adults (beginners/novices) go last. This helps prevent a adult meeting up with a fellow child gym challenger on Route 3 and beating the hell outta them. A beginner trainer going up against a more experienced trainer etc. Makes it fair for the trainers to travel/compete in groups of the same skill/age level.  This also helps out the gym leaders, that way they all aren’t EXTREMELY SWARMED at once by gym challengers. It’s a fit schedule to help keep things organized, keep track of the challengers etc. You may challenge the Gym Leaders TWICE before you are kicked out. If you lose to a Gym Leader during your challenge, you are allowed THREE DAYS to retrain and attempt to battle them again. If you lose the second time, you are no longer part of the gym challenge and cannot continue. Although most don’t take the chance for a rematch, they feel too disgraced that they lost the first time. But it is always a option for those who are determined to stay within the challenge. The only one you cannot challenge twice is Leon. After the first event, where they introduce all the gym leaders and challengers, there is a sort of “celebrating” ball. All the Gym Challengers and the Gym Leaders are there, just celebrating the new “season” of the gym challenge, having some good old fashioned fun before the intense training begins. Also? I get to design fancy outfits for characters n such and cute interactions don’t @ me.

There is a Budew Drop Inn located in every single city in Galar. All gym challengers have free access to their rooms and a complementary lunch. But anything else they have to pay for. Not a 100% free ride but good enough. During the Gym Challenge event, no one else is allowed to rent a room at the Inn, it is strictly for the Gym Challengers during the duration of the event.

Gym Challengers are given camping equipment to use! The type generally depends on who is sponsoring them, if you are to sponsor a challenger you must supply them with camping equipment! The camping gear tends to be branded or have advertisements all over their stuff, you aren’t allowed to bring your own equipment as you need to have it have your sponsors ad’s all over it. Perfect advertising technique.

Normal Gym Challengers do not have access to gigantamax. As it is such a hard thing to get a pokemon like that. Certain gym challengers have access to it in special cases (etc Bede/Marnie) but in those cases they were most likely given to them via someone of a higher class. Bede given one from the chairmen, Marnie gotten one from Pier’s etc. But normal gym challengers do NOT have access to this type of power during power. As it’s considered too powerful for normal trainers. They may Dynamax, but Gigantamax is considered too powerful. 

Some trainers can understand their Pokemon, although it has been known that some pokemon can speak english or through telepathy, but sometimes some trainers can understand their pokemon without it. Although it is rare, it generally only happens to those who are in the deepest possible connection with their pokemon. Trainers can understand their pokemon normally after being around them long enough, but some actually develop the ability to actually hear and understand fluently what their pokemon is actually saying. This is what happens when the strongest possible bond has formed and is again, rare. One CAN have the strongest possible bond with their pokemon and NOT have this, but its just a rare situation. But this also allows me, the author, to have something wholesome with my OC and her starter pokemon, whether its cliche or not.

In Sword and Shield, there are some gym leaders that are only there in the specific version. But in my story, all of the gym leaders are there, the ones with two gym leaders, simply take weekly shifts on who is there! This helps the gym leaders have a life and take breaks and also spices up the gym challenge! As the challengers do not know which gym leader they will face in Stow-On-Side Stadium or Circhester Stadium. It adds some needed spice and element of surprise in the challenge as with those gyms, as they aren’t 100% sure on what they should train for. One could train for both possibilities of the gym leader they will face, but with the time frame they are given before each challenge (about a week or two) it is very hard to do so. They also do not reveal which gym challenger you will be facing until you enter the challenge, so you cannot switch out your team in to have the advantage.

Gym Challengers started the trend of having “Signature Finishing Moves”, not the same as signature moves mind you. They are moves that trainers usually do to finish a gym battle “in style”. They do this as all Gym Challenge events are televised, so of course most want to be flashy or create a name for themselves. Generally only ONE pokemon on their team has this move/routine, whichever pokemon they are most attached too or are known for having. This practice can range from using a certain move to finish each challenge, a dance routine, a move combination etc. Amaryillis’ (trainer OC) has a Finish Move with CheddarSwiss. It is called “Sunglass Clash”, the name was chosen by Hop.  Sunglass Clash is when CheddarSwiss tosses his sunglasses into the air, doing a final attack to finish the opponent, then catching the sunglasses again and doing a spinning pose. The move CheddarSwiss uses changes depending but the sunglasses catch is the real “trademark” of the move. Hop’s Grookey, known as Twist, has the Finish Move called “The Twister”. Which Twist runs around the opponent rapidly, causing the already weakened pokemon to become dizzy. During this state, Twist summons a vine/tree/plant underneath the foe, finishing them off. Twist then jumps back over to Hop and they both do a pose together in sync. The Gym Leaders don’t really have Finishing Moves, simply because they have gigantamax pokemon instead. Gigantamaxing the pokemon replaces the “need” to have a Finish Move, as they are already well known and have the ability to do that.

Okay so for the sake of making things easier for Trainers, imagine they all carry giant ass backpacks and also their like... Bike and such is collapsible n stuff. Prolly don’t carry around a giant curry pot tho, or maybe one that expands into a bigger one. Just please.... pretend everything can be collapsed into their big ass backpacks and they don’t just summon these things outta thin air like in games

//I’ll add more as i remember it and as time goes on~

[alexsmitposts]

Of Lesser Men Imagine yourself in school. You are 8 years old and it is recess time. You look for your friends, for the boys it is baseball or football, and the natural leaders set up teams and it begins. This is humanity, from its roots as hunter-gatherers so many hundreds of thousands of years ago, this is the natural order of things. Then, some would not survive. Guile and weakness was seldom rewarded. With the onset of “civilization” that changed. Where, at one time, the natural leaders became royalty or nobility, the need to pass on power though lineage went awry and these bloodlines through inbreeding and degeneration became the Deep State, physical weaklings, moral reprobates, tasked with selecting more of the same and moving them into positions of authority. The goal has been division, entropy, suffering, and managing the expectations of those of promise, pushing them into piracy, banditry or killing them in wars. Thus, when we find ourselves, even the strongest of us, the best of the best as it were, subject to rule by our lessers, “under the thumb” of those who, as children, we shunned as cowardly or vile, why do we recoil in surprise? What was left runs Washington, London and Paris, other capitols as well, the “lesser men,” damaged, confused, inferior, pushed up the ladder, the chosen people, a class of “Untermensch.” America’s ruling elite, when examined, for the most part resemble a form of reverse Darwinism. We are going to be calling the comic tragedy of the Muller investigation what it really is, “MuellerGate.” Any possibility that there was ever an investigation of anything intended is gone but the real reasons might well startle all but the most paranoid or well-informed watchers. What began as RussiaGate is playing out as not just fakery, but a complex and well-crafted intelligence operation intended to destabilize both the United State and Russia with full complicity of the press, those who control the press from the inside. It was always not only a wrong assumption by insane as well to assume that somehow, the controlled corporate media, would declare war on a presidency that has been so friendly to the oil industry, Wall Street, big polluters and the big pharma “poisoners.” The only other force handling this much cash is the CIA/Deep State worldwide heroin ring run out of Afghanistan and Camp Bondsteel in Kosovo, with the help of well known and powerful American families, names very much like Romney, Bush and Walton, according to an FBI whistleblower who came forward in 2012. When Mueller investigators interrogated me in 2018, I brought the debriefing recordings with me and offered to play them. It nearly cleared the room. Here is what is playing out as of mid-April, 2019: Democrats who control congress are planning to subpoena the entire Mueller Report and to question both Mueller and Barr. Legal experts are saying that only a preliminary impeachment process provides needed statutory authority for this effort. The public, perhaps a majority approaching 60%, is hanging on this drama, waiting to “get Donald Trump” as though he were a masked villain in a fake professional wrestling match, which of course he is. What has been purposefully forgotten is that both Mueller and Barr are “lesser men.” Both, according to sources, were CIA recruits early in life. During Vietnam, the CIA began profiling a new generation to carry them past their roots. The CIA’s roots are Nazi Germany’s Abwehr. Their profile included intellectual ability combined with a bevy of negative traits including social psychopathy, feelings of inferiority and intense guilt, and a powerful need for approval and affirmation from authority figures. Two of my good friends, one a senior Army intelligence officer and the other a high-ranking FBI official, both “the best of the best” tried to get into the CIA and were turned away. They weren’t crazy enough. According to sources, both Barr and Mueller were “crazy enough” and for 4 decades or more, have been close personal friends while operating in and out of the corridors of power on behalf of what is now termed the Deep State. Similarly, Mueller and Comey as FBI directors were close friends. Remember, it was Comey that only days before the 2016 election put out highly derogatory and utterly unnecessary statements about the Clinton email case. That case, of course, was a fabrication of a GOP congress that spent endless millions concerned about “classified emails” that, thus far, were utterly without substance. Moreover, anything from the State Department that a Secretary of State wants to make pubic or declassify, has the full authority to do as the President does the same for the White House. Trump does this continually. Before that it was the phony Benghazi investigation and before that, Hillary Clinton was accused of personally murdering Vince Foster. Let us not forget the Clinton impeachment and the role of Kenneth Starr as prosecutor. Starr was a longtime acolyte of Richard Mellon Scaife, a typical James Bond bad guy, scion of one of the biggest Deep State banking families who simply bought Starr and spent millions hiring thugs of various kinds to smear the Clintons. Starr had been promised a seat on the US Supreme Court if he got Clinton. He failed but his “man,” Brett Kavanaugh, now holds a seat on the high court as a surrogate, we are told, for failed and disgraced Ken Starr. A key to understanding the dynamic is knowing that everything the public sees or is allowed to see is scripted. Comey went after Clinton not to damage or influence the election but to create the appearance of doing so while, as had happened in 2000 and 2004, Deep State operatives working with local election officials, literally thousands of them, simply hacked the election count. This has been investigated, studied and written of so many times and is forgotten and shelved. Everyone is complicit. Past that, every candidate is always from the same pool, either hopelessly insane like Trump or Bush 43 or deeply flawed or crippled like Bill Clinton or Barak Obama. When someone different sneaks in like Jimmie Carter, the answer is simple. The Federal Reserve cuts off the money supply, collapsing the economy and the CIA stages a coup in Iran in order to move Reagan in. Part of America’s suppressed history is the truth about Reagan, BCCI, Iran Contra and the collapse of America’s industrial economy, all done while America’s middle class disappeared. This was no accident. MuellerGate is a critical component of a “lesser man” ploy. Mueller and Barr, we assume, are in continual contact as they are constant companions, lifelong companions, who have planned and executed Deep State operations over and over during their careers. Barr exists to fabricate childishly absurd legal opinions. Read one of them. His early letter on the RussiaGate investigation, castigating his best friend Robert Mueller as dangerously incompetent, is classic deception and cover. Then, lo and behold, Mueller finishes an investigation that takes forever. The nation focuses on little else while everything that can be broken or stolen in the nation is broken and stolen. There are 3 White Houses, one in New York at Trump Tower, now a Secret Service protected home for the headquarters of the Kosher Nostra while at Mar-a-Lago, Chinese billionaires are buying America on the cheap. The White House in Washington is now “Tel Aviv on the Potomac.” Making it all work is the three-act play staged by the worst actors in the world, villain Donald Trump, Nancy Pelosi of the fake left, and a cast of thousands. It was evident what was going to happen from the get go with the public sucked in the Mueller drama, taking it all seriously, while the GOP’s control of the Senate and the generalized agreement that a sitting president cannot be indicted. In fact, there is no such provision in the constitution whatsoever. The legal concept is the creation of now sitting Federal District Judge Raymond Moss, written in 2000 at the behest of then Attorney General Janet Reno. Was Reno expecting Bill Clinton to start murdering White House visitors on live television? That is, perhaps, the only rationale for a legal opinion that has entrained itself as a keystone of Deep State security. This is from Lawrence Tribe, perhaps the nation’s leading authority on the constitution: “In a recent opinion piece, I argued that the text and structure of the Constitution, a serious commitment to the rule of law, and plain good sense combine to preclude a rigid policy of “delaying any indictment of a president for crimes committed in winning the presidency.” My op-ed argued against the Office of Legal Counsel (OLC) memos opining that the Constitution prevents the indictment of a sitting president. Nearly everyone concedes that any such policy would have to permit exceptions. The familiar hypothetical of a president who shoots and kills someone in plain view clinches the point. Surely, there must be an exception for that kind of case: Having to wait until the House of Representatives impeaches the alleged murderer and the Senate removes him from office before prosecuting and sentencing him would be crazy. Nobody seriously advocates applying the OLC mantra of “no indictment of a sitting president” to that kind of case. The same is true for any number of other cases that come readily to mind. Among those, in my view, must be the not-so-hypothetical case of a president who turns out to have committed serious crimes as a private citizen in order to win the presidency. Whether the president committed such crimes in collusion with a shady group of private collaborators or did so in conspiracy with one or more foreign adversaries, it should not be necessary for the House to decide that such pre-inaugural felonies were impeachable offenses and for the Senate to convict and remove the officeholder before putting him in the dock as an alleged felon and meting out justice.” Conclusion Are people like May or Macron or Trump little more than circus clowns? Is everything scripted, where the chance of peace breaking out, of justice and righteousness infecting the absurd global processes inoculated against? Are the current moves around the world to criminalize expression of these very thoughts an indication of how blatant and egregious the lesser men have become?

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

James Potter x reader where the readers parents found out about the two of them dating and very much disapprove as they support You-Know-Who. Her mum freaks saying she must find someone who is like their kind and not a Blood Traitor. Shea broken hearted cause she doesn't want to end it with James as the two of them love each other. Angsty and fluff ♥️ Bravo work lovey

A Rock and a Hard Place- James Potter x Reader

Summary: Y/N’s parents are pretentious pure blood slytherins, and when they find out she is dating James Potter, they have some things to say.

Word Count: 2579 (longest one so far)

A/N: Wowowow this request got me effed up heheheheh WOWOWOWOW that was long as f.

I’ll see you at the start of term next week babe, love you. She finished up her letter to James, and tied it to the leg of her owl, sending it out the window. She heard heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs and hastily shoved his letter to her in a drawer. Her door was thrown against the wall as her parents burst in, faces red with anger. She backed against the wall, quite afraid of why they were so angry. Had they found out?!

“Why did James Potter just send a letter to you? Y/N, we expected so much more of you! You think we don’t intercept the mail? He’s a blood traitor, and so are all of his friends! Such lineage should not be wasted on helping muggleborns, and our lineage will not be wasted because you have feelings for a blood traitor. You send a letter to him right now young lady and tell him that you will not be dating him any longer.” Your eyes widened and filled with tears as your mom ruined your relationship with the boy you loved.

“We knew something was going on when you refused to join the Dark Lord, but we never thought you would betray wizard kind on this kind of a level. You are a disgrace to this family, and to the Dark Lord.” Your dad spat, and you snapped.

“You have NO idea who he is. He’s ten times the person either of you will ever be and I hope that when you’re burning in hell for what you’ve done, that you regret being such hypocritical arseholes!” and with that, you pushed your shell shocked parents out of the room, and began frantically tossing things into your trunk. There was a magical expansion spell on your trunk so you could fit everything you needed. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but anywhere was better than the hell hole you were living in.

After you had gathered all your belongings, you took a deep breath, held your head up high, and stomped down the stairs, trunk bouncing along with each step you took.

“Y/N Y/L/N, get your blood traitor arse back up into that room and wait for us to call you down. We’ve arranged a meeting with the Dark Lord that will hopefully set you straight.” Your mother snarled, pointing to your room. You ignored her however, marching down the stairs once more. You tried to drown out the, “Don’t you dare walk out of that door,” and, “Don’t bother coming back,” that you were getting from your parents, and strutted right out of the door, and onto the driveway, saying goodbye to your family’s awful manor. You stuck out your wand arm, and within an instant, a huge purple bus came hurtling down the street, and screeched to a halt before you.

You were escorted onto the bus and to one of the beds in the back, and as you were thrown around while turning corners, you decided on staying at the leaky cauldron. The bus dropped you off and sped away, and you wrote to James the second you got settled into your room.

“Dear James,

My parents found out about us. They said that I had to write to you and break up with you, but I didn’t really want to, so I left. I’m staying in the leaky cauldron, room 206, if you want to come keep me company for the day. If all goes well, neither of us will ever have to deal with my parents again. I love you.

~ Y/N”

You sent the letter using the pub’s owl, seeing as yours was still on its way to James with your first letter. You flopped back down on the bed and sighed.

Only a day after you had sent the letter to James, he had come tumbling out of the fireplace in your room, coughing and sputtering. His glasses had flown across the room when he had shot out, and you snatched them up for him. He rushed to you and squeezed you so hard, you thought you were going to suffocate. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his shoulder, feeling him grip you even tighter. He had met your family only once before, he had stood up for you when they were berating you in public, but he hadn’t seen them since they found out the two of you were dating.

“James, I can’t live on my own, I-I’m so scared, I don’t know what to do.” You sobbed, clinging onto him as though your life depended on it. You supposed it did. He supported you more than anyone, no matter what. He leaned back and cupped your cheeks, gazing into your E/C eyes with his amber ones.

“Darling, breathe with me. It’s going to be fine, mum has already agreed to let you live with us. You’ll be well taken care of, I promise.”

You shook your head in protest when James offered to let you move in, but he cut you off.

“Don’t even start. You’re always welcome, you know that. Mum and dad haven’t even met you, but they already love you, and you won’t be any sort of trouble. I think Sirius is more trouble than you are and they had no problem adjusting to him. Please darling, I need you safe.” He finished, exhaling as he held you even tighter, still holding eye-contact.

You took one look at his deep brown irises and tears splashed down your face again. He wiped them away with his thumbs, the soothing back-and-forth motions calmed you until all that was left of the tears were shimmery trails where they had slid down your face.

“Are you ready to head back to my house love, or do you want to spend one more night here? I’ll stay with you if you wanna stay here.” You mulled it over for a bit and realized that there was no point in delaying the inevitable, you were so scared to meet James’ parents. What if they didn’t want you to date their son anymore? What if they thought you were a bother, and didn’t really want to take you in? Your thought swirled around inside your head until they were a constant flurry of negative thoughts spiraling around. James sensed your doubts and squeezed you a bit tighter, “we can stay one more night love, but I promise they’re fine with all of this. I think they’d be upset if you didn’t come stay with us at some point - I warned them from the beginning that your parents weren’t the best” He assured you, and seeing as it was quite late, he wrapped you up in his arms, carried you over to the big four poster bed, and crawled under the covers, holding you the whole night.

You woke up to small kisses being placed all over your face, and you blinked repeatedly, confused as to where you were. The events of the past two days hit you like a truck, and you flipped over to see James smiling at you, his grin brighter than the sun itself. He greeted you with a gruff, “Mornin’ princess” and leaned in to kiss you deeply. You couldn’t help it, you smiled into the kiss, and felt him do the same. The two of you spent the morning basking in each other’s presence. At about noon, James reluctantly got up and reminded you that they had to get to his parent’s by one, for a late lunch. Your stomach turned over at the thought of meeting your boyfriend’s parents, always a daunting task, and rolled out of bed, pulling on one of James’ jumpers as well as some jeans. He walked out of the bathroom, just as you were swooping your hair up into a messy bun. He stopped and smiled at you, it was finally sinking in that he had you back. You were back. You were back and you were his and by god, he was never letting you go. He helped you wrap up your stuff, shoving it haphazardly into your trunk, and hooked his arm around yours. He led you to the fireplace and the two of you flooed to his place.

You appeared in the living room of the Potter Manor, and almost instantly you were greeted by a very happy dog. You smiled, remembering James and his stories of his dog. Sirius also came down the stairs, helping you up off the ground, and hugging you extremely tight. You two had bonded over your awful families, that was how you had met James. James went in search of his mum and dad, leaving you, Sirius, and the dog in the living room in wait.

The three of you heard footsteps approaching and you tensed immediately. Were you ready for this? Well, you couldn’t back out now. Oh god, what if they didn’t let you stay, where would you go? Sirius glanced over at you and saw the crease between your eyebrows, quickly grabbing your hand and squeezing it. He too had been nervous, he related to your anxiety, but he knew just as well as James that Euphemia and Fleamont would fall in love with you like James did.

The footsteps got louder, and the door swung open, revealing James, Fleamont, and Euphemia Potter. James rushed and stood by your side, introducing his parents. You introduced yourself and nervously held out your hand for Euphemia to shake, only for her to use it to pull you into a hug. She squeezed you tight, and you saw the parallel between her and her son’s hugs. They were both warm, loving and reassuring, they made you feel at home. She stepped back, holding you at arms length by the shoulders, and smiled.

“Oh, Y/N, darling, you’re even more beautiful than we’ve heard.”

“mUM” James’ cheeks burned red, the tips of his ears also flaming, while his father laughed at him.

“Alright darling, I want to meet her too,” Fleamont switched places with her and also hugged you. You didn’t know what to do. These people were so so so nice and they looked at you as thought you were already a part of their family. You felt so lucky. Fleamont made everyone a cup of tea, and after your little meet and greet you were led up the stairs. James’ father had very boldly stated that the walls were quite thin, and so even though you were sleeping with James, they could hear everything. James had groaned, while you had blushed furiously, Euphemia shrieked and escorted you to James’ room. You had set your trunk down and gone down for lunch.

The next day, around three o’clock, Euphemia trudged up the stairs, a letter from your parents in hand. She frowned, it was a howler but it was one that would only go off once you had touched it. She was going to get your permission to burn it, a magical fire should do the trick. She found the door half open, and peeked in, smiling when she saw you and James curled up on the sofa in his room, talking in hushed tones, James’ fingers tangled in your hair. She hated to interrupt the silence, but she knocked quietly, not wanting to reveal the fact that she’d been watching. Both of your heads turned to look at her in the door, and she stepped in, brandishing the letter.

Your face fell, knowing exactly who it was from.

“I know you probably don’t want to read it, so I’m not going to force you. I was going to ask permission to burn it for you.” Your heart soared, knowing that you had a real family.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Potter, you don’t know how much this means to me, really.” you smiled, getting up as she was beckoning you in for a hug. That was a mistake. Your skin grazed the letter as you pulled away, and the letter began to smoke. Euphemia’s horrified gaze met yours.

“I’m so so sorry dear,” And with that, the letter tore itself out of her hand and hovered in front of your face.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N! YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION TO WIZARDKIND! YOU NOT ONLY BETRAYED OUR FAMILY, YOU ALSO BETRAYED THE NAME OF PUREBLOODS! WE THOUGHT YOU REFUSING THE DARK MARK WAS BAD ENOUGH, BUT YOU HAD THE AUDACITY TO MOVE IN WITH THE VERY PEOPLE CONSPIRING AGAINST US! THEY WILL TIRE OF YOU SO QUICKLY YOU WASTE OF SPACE! THEN YOU’LL HAVE NO ONE! YOU’LL HAVE NOWHERE TO GO AND YOU’LL BE ALONE UNTIL THE DAY THAT YOU DIE! WE HOPE YOU KNOW THAT EVERYONE WILL REALIZE HOW USELESS YOU ARE, AND YOU’LL NEVER BE OF ANY HELP TO ANYONE! BUT FINE, RUN TO YOUR PRETTY LITTLE BOYFRIEND, JUST WAIT UNTIL HE FIGURES THAT OUT! HE’LL DROP YOU SO QUICKLY IT’LL MAKE YOUR HEAD SPIN! NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU, AND YOU ARE BETTER OFF ACCEPTING THAT BEFORE YOU RUIN OTHER PEOPLE’S LIVES! DON’T EVER BOTHER SPEAKING TO US AGAIN, WE DON’T WANT YOU”

As the shrill voice of your mother echoed throughout the house, the letter burst into flames and was nothing but a pile of ash when it was done. Your eyes were as big as saucers, tears flowing down your face, some streaming down your chest and stopping on your shirt, forming dark spots. You were frozen in your place and you felt a hand come and gently grab your wrist, pulling you around into James’ chest. He wrapped his arms around you and tears of his own dampened your hair as you sobbed into his chest.

Euphemia backed out of the room, not wanting to disturb the couple. She marched into the office space that she and Fleamont shared, and furiously began writing a howler of her own. The words swirling through her head, she wrote two and a half feet of angry loathsome words flowing through her head, down the quill, into the ink, and spreading on the paper like venom. She closed the letter and made extra sure that the bubotuber pus that she had placed just within the seal was perfectly poised to spring out and spray all over. She sent the letter off with a small smirk, feeling satisfied with her efforts. You had been through too much already, but Euphemia had no idea just how bad it was.

Back in James’ room, the both of you had sunk to the floor, you were curled up in his lap, clutching his shirt like he was your rock. You supposed he was. You were caught between a rock and a hard place but the rock was warm, soft and inviting. The rock soothed your fears and held you when you cried. You came to the realization that he was the one. You smiled a bit through your tears and held him just a little bit closer.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “A Highland Groom” (Rated PG13)

Kurt, the son of the Highland Chief of the Clan MacKenzie, is traded to a Lowland Baron to secure peace between the clans. Kurt, with his father ill and his freedom stolen, is less than thrilled with this arrangement, especially when he sees his new husband for the first time. (3808 words)

Notes: This is a re-write. This is kind of Harlequin style - emphasis on the drama and less on historical accuracy, though I did consult clan maps, clan websites, historical map sites, and dialect guides in an attempt to be as close as possible. Also, I wrote the dialogue to give readers a taste of the accent without tripping over it. I hope it works :)

Read on AO3.

Kurt steers his midnight Friesian, Elliott, up and over the crest of the final knoll, following his course at a slow walk, not eager to arrive at his destination. He knows not how a man, about to become a groom, should feel as he journeys to the home of his would-be husband, but Kurt, dressed in his ceremonial tartan and sash, perched in a new leather saddle (apparently a wedding gift from his betrothed), fears he may be sick. This illness began as a twinge in his stomach as he traveled farther and farther from his father’s castle - as he watched it become a spot in the distance, watched it disappear behind the green Highland hills - only to develop into a vile nausea, making him unable to sleep comfortably at night, causing him to eat very little, and filling his mouth with the tang of constant acid that rose up his throat and burned away at his tongue. After that, eating became but a chore, as he hadn’t a taste for anything.

The air feels cooler on this part of the continent than in the land he called home. It hangs heavy with the icy water that kisses the shore not a day’s ride from this overlook. The grass laid out beneath his horse’s hooves is remarkably green here – dense and luxurious, like a fine plush blanket he could sink into. Not like the short, lime green grass from where he comes.

Not like in the Highlands.

The loch further on feeds the flora here. The trees grow taller; the heather thicker, beholding a startling violet coloration to their petals; the soil richer, more fertile, bursting to give life to seed and animal alike. It is not in the nature of water to travel to high ground, so perhaps the Lowland barbarians have this felicity in their corner, but Kurt’s father always said that living in the Highlands put them closer to God.

And even though Kurt may not necessarily believe in the man, he needs God to watch over him now, more than ever.

The thought of Kurt’s father brings a grim set to his face and tears to his eyes, tears he would show no one, but as he travels alone, he allows a scarce few to fall.

Kurt didn’t want to leave his Da with no one to care for him – no wife to tend to him, no other children to bring him comfort. Being advanced in years and with his heart paining him, Kurt fears that his Da has naught but one or two winters left. It seems asinine that at this tenuous time in his sire’s life, Kurt is being sent away. This union wasn’t by any choice of Kurt’s. The whole matter had been decided before Kurt even heard rumor of it, in secret conferences held behind closed doors. But when the day came to depart, Kurt showed his sire no frown nor worry. He put on a strong face, stood straight and tall, and mounted his stallion with pride, taking off for the Lowlands with all the bearing he could muster.

The bearing befitting a lord.

But days later, here he sits atop his horse, a shiver of fright taking over where the chill of the cold left off. The animal beneath him treads without command, over land where many of Kurt’s kin fought and died during dark times, during the war between the clans - their precious blood spilt, heads lobbed off and skewered on spikes, lined up along this very ridge as a warning to those who would follow.

Too much blood has fed this grass. It is time for this feud to be done before another terrible battle starts, for day after day, raid after raid, there seems to be one looming just beyond the horizon.

In theory, this wedding between him and … God above! Kurt doesn’t even know the man’s name! … should end the conflict, seal the bond between the clans, wash away the blood, and make these lands safe again for his people. But they aren’t safe for the moment, and regardless of Kurt’s upcoming nuptials, much of the Lowlands is considered forbidden, which is why Kurt’s escort - two armed men of his father’s choosing - made the journey with him as far as the border, and from there Kurt was left to ride the remainder alone.

Tis considered an act of good faith for Kurt to continue his journey unescorted and unarmed.

Kurt sees it as foolish, but, yet again, he had no say, and now that he is on his own, entering the tree line of an unknown and savage country, Kurt feels uneasy, on edge, picturing assassins behind every trunk, poised in the branches, ready to take his life - either out of revenge or for a purse of gold, it matters not.

Kurt wraps the leather reins around his hands to keep him steady, but it helps for little when he trembles down to his bones.

Kurt stays on the alert, but his mind wanders a trifle, for he cannot help wondering what manner of beast his father has shackled him to – some scoundrel, a preening wretch who will rank Kurt twelfth after his band of ready whores. Or maybe a toothless, decrepit old man, twisted and infirm, wanting to get a swain for his bed before he hurries off to meet his maker.

His father knows and chose not to tell, which imbues Kurt with not an inch of confidence.

But his father loves him. He would not pick unwisely for him … unless he had no choice.

Maybe the matter lay less in his father’s hands than Kurt realizes.

Though his new husband may turn out to be unfavorable, Kurt has to admit the land out here is splendid. The more of it he sees, the more that he thanks the angels who guard him that he will have this to escape to, these gorgeous rolling hills and acres of blessed beauty to ride his horse over from sun up to sun down, as he expects to entertain his new lord little if he has any say in the matter.

His body may be traded for peace, but not his heart. That belongs to him and him alone.

Past midday, the trees ahead of him part, and there it stands – the castle of the Baron Colquhoun.

Kurt’s horse comes to an unbidden halt as his master’s legs tighten around him. Kurt can hardly breathe in its presence, and at once, he wants to turn his stallion around and ride full speed for home.

This vision his eyes hold is not of a castle. It is a ruin – a haphazard heap of rock and stone piled one on top the other, creating a mass that rises high and tilts in such a treacherous way that Kurt fears for the lives of those within. It seems fit overall more for livestock than it does for a chief and his clan, but even then only by a fraction, and only in a case of dire need. This ancient stronghold might actually be held upright by wishes and prayers instead of by any competent mortar, which Kurt finds commendable since he has not faith enough in anything to keep such a structure erect. Kurt’s shock at this monstrosity is overwhelmed only by his confusion. Surely his father didn’t mean for Kurt to live here. He would not stand for his son and heir being forced to make due with such detestable accommodations, not at any price. This must be some trick, a test of Kurt’s loyalty, to see if he will go through with the marriage. And when he has made good on his promise, his new lord and husband will spirit him away to their true home for having proven himself a worthy spouse.

Or, Kurt’s life could be over, this rundown shambles his prison until the day he dies and rots within its crumbling walls, which may be sooner than he expected. Then they shall entomb him here, simply wait until the place collapses with his cadaver inside, swallowing him whole.

Kurt’s body becomes leaden, immovable as iron as he stares upon his new home, the want to cry, to curse, to scream suddenly an abundant need, but he dare not. He will do nothing to disgrace his sire or his people by behaving like a brat – unmannered and spoilt. He will ride down to the gates of his appointed hell with his head held high, march through to the hall, and confront the man who would so shamefully pass himself off as a noble and provide this for his husband as insult.

Kurt fixes a stern expression to his face and keeps a weather-eye cast ahead, past the castle, out toward the horizon. He occupies his mind as he approaches, doing everything in his power not to stare at the stark grey towers marring the soothing periwinkle blue of the sky above with their jagged turrets, unkept and broken, a disgrace to the Colquhoun name, not to mention his own.

Ah, but the Colquhoun name will soon be his own, and he refuses to see it dishonored. He will find this Baron Colquhoun and make his intentions known. This folly ends tonight – Kurt will see to it. He will demand it done, have this place returned to its former glory – if ever there was any to begin with - or else he cannot rightly call himself his father’s son.

As Kurt rides nearer the seemingly abandoned wreck of a castle, he can see it is in a greater state of decay than he perceived from afar, the entirety of the fortress slowly being engulfed by the land it stands upon. The stones at the base show cracks that Kurt suspects run straight through to the foundation. He grimaces. The cellars must leak unendingly, and flood during the rainy season, the walls crawling with poisonous black mold from floor to ceiling. He finds evidence to that in the moat, which has barely a drop of water in it, filled to the brim with dark, stagnant mud.

It’s an effective deterrent in Kurt’s case. It would be enough to keep him away.

“Oh, Elliott,” Kurt says into the neck of his beloved horse. “Why have I been doomed to live in this forsaken place? What tis it I’ve done to anger the universe so?”

Kurt searches for a sentry on the wall to announce his arrival, or for any lookout on the watch tower who will at least command the drawbridge be lowered, but there is none – not a single human being on the grounds without or within. He leads Elliott around the outskirts of the outer wall, in search of a way inside. There seems to be none – no way across the moat, no niche for him to enter should he make it there, and not a person anywhere to send up a call. He discovers on his second pass, as he comes back around, a narrow plank, brown as the mud beneath it, with width enough for a single man to make a way across if they turn their body sideways and slide foot after foot. Kurt looks down at his bright white shirt and immaculate tartan, and sighs. He dismounts his horse.

He sees no way that he won’t end up in the moat, as good as his luck’s been lately.

Kurt walks up to the plank hovering a mere inch above the foul bog. The end has been rammed into the earth of this bank and looks secure, though he cannot see the end on the opposite bank. He puts a cautious foot to the wood. The plank waggles to and fro till Kurt steadies it. He slides a bit forward, then adds a second foot behind, listing like a boat during a storm, eyes wide and fearful till his stomach cramps with his efforts to make it stop. He takes in a deep breath of relief as he finds his balance, reluctant to move from the position he had struggled so hard for. But he knows he must.

Go back or go forward, and he knows he cannot go back.

“I am Kurt MacKenzie of the Clan MacKenzie, Highland born son of the Chief, and I will conquer this crossing …” He forces his left foot forward, sliding it across the board. “I will conquer this castle …” He brings his right foot to follow. “I will conquer this baron and take my place by his side …” Kurt grunts as he slides further. There is no bright sun at this hour of day to burn Kurt’s fair skin, yet he sweats beneath his shirt, starting at the shoulder that bears the weight of his tartan sash, perspiration running down his back and gathering at his hips. The plank gives an abrupt lurch and Kurt heaves forward, knees knocking together as he goes rigid, becoming one with the wood to keep from losing his footing. He repeats his mantra over again, hoping that the words give him the strength to make it across.

“I am Kurt MacKenzie … of the Clan MacKenzie … Highland born son of the Chief … and I will conquer this crossing … I will conquer this castle … I will conquer this baron and take my place by his side …”

Kurt sees the bank within reach of his leg - just another step and he should be able to make it with only his leather shoes sacrificed to the effort.

“That’s … ugh … the first reparation … oompf! … this baron will need … umf … to make,” Kurt mutters, “for not … having the common decency … to-aaaaaaah!”

An eardrum-splitting squeal rends the air as behind Kurt something like the form of a large, grime-soaked pig bounds from the moat and up onto the plank, bowing it in the center, dragging it below the level of the mud. Kurt feels his foot dip under and he scrambles for the bank, barely making it before the animal dives back into the moat and paddles for shore. The plank snaps back with a resounding dull twang, vibrations sending droplets of muck jettisoning Kurt’s way. When the disturbance fades, Kurt glances down at his clothes and exhales with a prayer of thanks that he managed to avoid the shower of dirt relatively unscathed.

A few tiny spots. Nothing that cannot be blotted out, he thinks as he straightens his sleeves. He stands up straight and feels his drenched foot squish into his shoe. That, however, is unaccepta—

The moment of silence is torn to shreds as a larger, more human-esque creature emerges from the mud, breaching out of the moat and reaching for the pig, flailing to grab at it and missing it by a hair.

“Shite!” the mud man bellows, watching the animal scrabble onto the land and bolt away. “That be the third fuckin’ time this …” The man shakes his head like a hound, clearing the mud from his ears, sending it raining Kurt’s way. Kurt flattens himself as close to the castle wall as he can manage without actually touching it to avoid a second spray.

“Watch yerself!” Kurt barks.

The man turns his head to look at Kurt, a scowl on his face that transforms into a wicked grin when he notices the pristinely-dressed man standing in a recess, shielding his fine clothing from the sludge ever-present around them.

“Come ag’in?” the man says, his body sinking below the surface of the mud with his folded arms on the wood plank holding his head and shoulders above.

“Take care, ye. I’m to be lord of this …” Kurt looks around at the weathered stone behind him and almost whimpers with despair, “castle, and I have no need to be tackled free of my senses by the likes of ye.”

It wasn’t normally in Kurt’s nature to behave like a pretentious snob. At home, he did his best to remain humble, and was beloved by his clan because of it – because aside from his occasional high-maintenance, he was a kind and compassionate man, a trait his father attributed with pride to Kurt’s poor deceased mother. But Kurt’s father had warned him about the men of the Lowlands, how they take all for themselves and care nothing for others. He warned Kurt and he reminded Kurt that he was a lord, even if he was to carry that title in the Lowlands. Kurt had to show the scum of the earth bastards that lived there that he wouldn’t be pushed around.

The man in the moat smiles at Kurt’s scolding, rising from the mud as if he were born of it.

“Forgive my state of undress, my lord, as I were chasing down a boar what’s been plaguing the lambs.” The man stood more fully, revealing a shirt that had been once white, slathered in mud and most likely dung.

Had he once been wearing a proper kilt or stockings, they were lost to him now.

His shirt helps little in keeping him modest.

Kurt averts his eyes with an irritated and affronted gasp.

“Could ye possibly be possessed of somethin’ to cover yer nethers?” he snaps.

“Why?” the man asks, opening his arms wide, causing the shirt to rise up his thighs a sliver, almost exposing him to God and country. “I’ve nothin’ that ye have not beheld before.”

“Nay, just in smaller quantity, I wager.”

Kurt expects the man to be furious at this jab at his endowments, but it only makes the knave’s smirk brighter.

“Ooo,” he coos, approaching as Kurt turns his head to face away, negotiating the narrow plank as though he has done it dozens of times before. “That’s quite a mouth on ye.”

“Not that ye’ll ever know,” Kurt hisses, backing a blind step away. “And careful, swine. My tartan be worth ten of ye.”

“Is that so?”

“Aye,” Kurt says with an emphatic nod as the man closes in. “Ten of ye, yer kin, and all of yer filthy possessions combined.”

“And are ye sure of that?” the man asks, his voice soft … and almost inviting.

“Oh, of that I be quite sure,” Kurt returns icily, cursing himself when his voice shakes. The man looks to say something back when a third voice enters the fray.

“Have ye caught it yet?” the feminine voice from above yells down to the mud-covered man below.

“Nay, Elspeth,” the man hollers back, his eyes not removed from Kurt’s blushing face. “Not yet.”

Kurt looks upward to catch sight of the woman, though mainly to hide his blazing cheeks, and he hears the man in front of him chuckle. His laugh is a smooth, melodic sound that carries with it heat – a heat that hits those places Kurt keeps carefully hidden, especially from the likes of bastards like this.

“Mind ye, make haste, lad,” the woman replies. “We’ve got company arrivin’ … oh …” The woman – leaning halfway out of a high window - spies Kurt huddled against the wall. The window cuts her at the mid-thigh, and when she leans forward, Kurt fears she will topple out. She smiles warmly at him, bobbing him an elegant, if awkward, curtsy. “Oh, m’lord. You’re here. And I see ye have a’ready met.”

Now that he has full view of her, Kurt remembers this woman. He recalls her accompanying the emissary who visited his father’s estate to arrange his match (he realizes that, of course, in retrospect). She seemed a pleasant enough woman, though at the time finely dressed, which is why when she looks down upon him, wearing what appears to be a drab pewter shift, her hair covered in a cap stained off-white with age, she is nigh unrecognizable.

“Aye, we have,” Kurt sniffs. “If tis of import that I meet your gamekeeper before my intended, then I guess I shoulda be glad. Shall I be meeting the kitchen staff next?”

The portly woman looks at Kurt agog, the air around them still as she begins to understand his words, and then she laughs, hearty and from her belly, as if Kurt had finished telling the bawdiest tale she has ever heard in her life.

“M’lord,” she says, lifting her apron to her eyes to wipe away her amused tears, “ye’ve got yerself a feisty one there, lord. Ye keep an eye on that one - dressed like a prince, but with the wit of the devil, he has.”

Kurt takes his turn to gawk, for he hasn’t a single notion what she’s talking about. Lord? She’s not addressing him. Had his betrothed walked on to the scene without his knowing? Kurt turns his head in search of him, but no one else can he see. Just the woman above him, and the rogue before him, moving toward Kurt, stalking him like prey, keeping a keen eye locked to Kurt’s surprised face.

“Nay,” the insufferable man says. “Ye have it wrong. I be not the gamekeeper. I be the man yer gonna marry.”

Kurt stares back into the man’s golden eyes - golden as the wheat that blanketed the knoll out yonder, shining like the sun in the blue sky above, and beautiful as the day is long. But that will not protect him from Kurt’s ire as he readies to tear into the man for his ludicrous claim, preparing to promise him the flogging of his life. But for all his inappropriate swagger, Kurt can see no lie in this man’s eyes, and it steals his bravery away.

“Wh-what?” Kurt asks, breathless when he prayed he wouldn’t be, but he can’t help it. Those eyes hold him prisoner.

They know more than they’re telling.

“Aye,” the woman says from the window, dismissing both men with another laugh. “Ye be in the presence of Blaine, Chief of the Clan Colquhoun, Laird of Loch Lomond.”

Kurt looks at the man covered in mud - the man whose shirt clings to him in sinful, tempting ways; the smile on his smug face nearly splitting his face in two. He looks like a demon, with gleaming white teeth and shining eyes, muscular limbs on full display, sun-kissed skin covered in mud except for a spot at his neck that glitters with a silver chain hanging askew, the crest of a noble plastered against his collarbone.

Holy hell, Kurt thinks. Tis him to be certain – Kurt’s soon-to-be husband.

“Oh … sh-shite,” Kurt breathes, and the man before him laughs so loudly, it makes Kurt’s ears ring. If there is a God up there in all the heavens, Kurt thinks, rolling his eyes back with a low groan, please strike me dead where I stand.

[itsmeizumine]

so, i searched high and low for a post i swore i made talking about why i wanted to make a naruto oc and had this initial blurb and everything that i just intended to add on, but since it disappeared somehow, i'll start again

it's going to be long, but feel free to tag along the ride under break!!

_________________________________________

so, i know anyone who has followed me for a while might have caught up to the fact that i’m on my own naruto nostalgia personal hell right now. it has been dragging for a few months in and out since my lil sibs started to watch the ENTIRETY of naruto franchise just because (we’re talking about all filler eps, all arcs, all ovas, all movies; they’re real champs like that). we all are stuck in the same rooms with each other and nowhere else to go so there was really no way to escape this even if i wanted too, which… i did, in the beginning, not gonna lie (i can’t handle second-hand embarrassment guys, i just can’t, and kid naruto is– oh my god); but then i kind of settled on this constant utterly mortified state so deeply nothing else phased me enough to stop watching the damned thing with my sibs, and here we are.

(and pls, don’t get me wrong. i love naruto, it was important to me as a kid and i still feel echoes of its impact on me even now in my life; it’s just– watching it with my kidsie sibs and parents in the same room with it dubbed in my native lang and them having no context to most things anime, just… no lol)

and god, as much i like the series, rewatching it made my heart ache too. kid naruto had an awful life, dude. for real. it just made me want to swoop in, adopt him and get him somewhere else asap the whole time we watched classic. it was devasting blow after devasting blow since day one, and it took too long for him to find support and bonds (as flimsy as they were) he could cling and lean on (and even then he was left/had to leave behind some).

idk guys, i might be overthinking this but kids in precarious situations always make me emotional af

so i thought: my mojo is making ocs, okay, that’s how i dive into fandoms and such, maybe i could make someone he could call a friend? even if it’s just to comfort him and myself a bit?? yeah, let’s go with this

and like, i wanted him to have someone to goof up with and be silly and talk freely and not have to appear awesome to with that false bravato of his (because he uses that when he’s not comfortable, and i really really really need him to be, for once) but i also wanted him to have someone he could fall back whevener he wants, no questions asked, and that could take care of him if things came down to it, but couldn’t strip naruto’s control over his own situation as an adult would (because that’s terrifiying thing to feel, no control over what’s gonna happen to yourself; now imagine that as a kid that has to live and tend and watch out for their own well-being themselves or else they might as well die in a ditch and no one - in naruto’s mind on the very beggining of classic - would bat an eye?? yeah, no good indeed); so an older kid it had to be. older sibling figure or whatever.

and since i wanted this older kid to approach naruto amicably, they couldn’t be a kid native to konoha, even if they were there from on and beyond. or else they’d first think of naruto in the preconceived notions leaf-civilians kid thought (as a vague monster/demon their parents made of him), or as leaf-nin kid thought (a dumb numbskull, disgrace of the academy).

so before i even started on the kid themselves, i had to settle on a place out of konoha to start the deal (hahaha going through naruto wiki pages on my dying computer was so much fun guys, you have no idea)

i didn’t find a location that made sense in the wiki so i came up with something on my own. it turned out really cool actually. i’m going to link a post talking about this location in particular because this post is too long already, but what you need to know about shokinin daichi is that it was a completely civilian-based settlement. no one was prevenient from a ninja clan and married out of it for peace and quiet, no one had a second cousin that once dreamed about shinobi life as a kid or anything. i know it seems unfathomable in naruto’s universe to such a place exist, especially with how the world is exposed to us on the anime at least, but believe me, it’s more likely than you think. there’s far too much empty space on naruto’s geography and petty, small 1x1 feuds between clans for it not to. shokunin daichi was a place civilians were relatively content with their lives, and if one of them was more ambitious they’d aim for bigger things, yes, but it wouldn't usually scale so far as to become ninja.

my kid, kawarake, was the same. his family made up one the cores of the sanka clan, but since no one was looking forward to taking the clan head’s position from the main family anytime soon, they all lead relatively quiet lives with their own thing going on. the sanka clan run the ranch of shokunin daichi, and each of its cores took care of one kind of animal. kawarake’s family core took care of horses, and he spent most of his days since he was five tending to them or taking care of his littler cousins who wanted to tend them. if he wasn’t on the stables, he’d be strolling in the settlement’s main square to talk to and help all his extended family, or he’d be in his little hide-out by the river farther south from it. he was looking forward to start an apprenticeship under kakka’s clan on metalwork once he was bit older to have the excuse to go out of the settlement more often, but there was no rush on his part still. he was fine like this.

one seemingly random night, with most of the settlement preparing to lay down for the day, a group of nuke-nin found the place. no one knew how, nor who they were; and whoever was left after that disaster could only guess why, but as soon as the rogue shinobi caught sight of the quaint little thing that was kawarake’s home they started to set things on fire. they pillaged and ransacked and destroyed everything in their wake and soon it became clear that there was little to no thing the civilians could do to defend themselves, even with their mattocks and sickles and ropes and wooden planks and the strongest men and women there. smoke and heat enclosed around all of them, and people that had lived their entire lives there together were forced to leave with no plan or direction, just the clan heads’ ultimate order to grab who they could in their way out and survive. hope against hope that they’d find each other again.

kawarake had managed to find his nephew, and be found by his mom before they had to leave the remains of their burning, collapsing ranch behind. with stingy eyes and searing burns and scratches and soot here and there, they made their way out of the settlement to find kawarake’s dad and a distant cousin by chance, but couldn’t manage to reach a group - their people - running in the distance before they too dispersed each to some direction in search of safety. between the kawarake’s mom, dad and cousin, they decided that their best bet would be to seek refuge in konoha for now; and there they fleed to through forest and packed dirt as the night went on.

i don't think it's confirmed in canon but i've seen it around enough in fanfiction to think it might have been implied somewhere. the politics of seeking refuge in a hidden village might change from country to country but i think there's a consistency on the treaty: it has to be compensated for the risk it takes in accepting the refugee, either by trade if the said refugee can has capital to start producing right away or by demanding a shinobi from the refugee's household.

kawarake then becomes the first gen nin of his family, in order for them to stay in konoha and under it's protection. he's the best conventional candidate because of his age; his cousin and parents at too old for the academy, and his nephew too young. he's uneasy in the beginning, he's surrounded by ninja that can, with a few hand seals, create a catastrophe as big as what happened on his settlement just because they felt like it, and that's disconcerting af, but once he realizes that he's also gaining this power, and he's also also learning how to counter it, he manages to ease up a little bit. he even starts to look forward to the possibility of making missions out of konoha in the end; that way he can look around for all his family, and warn them they have a safe place to stay in konoha.

his family arrives two years after the uchiha massacre, and he graduates as a genin on team 3 the same semester as neji, tenten and lee. here's what i have of him and his team, intend to post more soon

he's a nice kid, guys, but he really shouldn't run around with a kunai like this

here's him, isako (also oc, gotta write stuff for her) and shiyoka (same, tho y'all have seen art of them and kawarake together already), their sensei is dope too and deserves her own presentation just because.

[dailyofficereadings]

Daily Office Readings April 14, 2018

Psalm 20-21

Psalm 20

Prayer for Victory

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 The Lord answer you in the day of trouble! The name of the God of Jacob protect you! 2 May he send you help from the sanctuary, and give you support from Zion. 3 May he remember all your offerings, and regard with favor your burnt sacrifices.Selah

4 May he grant you your heart’s desire, and fulfill all your plans. 5 May we shout for joy over your victory, and in the name of our God set up our banners. May the Lord fulfill all your petitions.

6 Now I know that the Lord will help his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with mighty victories by his right hand. 7 Some take pride in chariots, and some in horses, but our pride is in the name of the Lord our God. 8 They will collapse and fall, but we shall rise and stand upright.

9 Give victory to the king, O Lord; answer us when we call.[a]

Psalm 21

Thanksgiving for Victory

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 In your strength the king rejoices, O Lord, and in your help how greatly he exults! 2 You have given him his heart’s desire, and have not withheld the request of his lips.Selah 3 For you meet him with rich blessings; you set a crown of fine gold on his head. 4 He asked you for life; you gave it to him— length of days forever and ever. 5 His glory is great through your help; splendor and majesty you bestow on him. 6 You bestow on him blessings forever; you make him glad with the joy of your presence. 7 For the king trusts in the Lord, and through the steadfast love of the Most High he shall not be moved.

8 Your hand will find out all your enemies; your right hand will find out those who hate you. 9 You will make them like a fiery furnace when you appear. The Lord will swallow them up in his wrath, and fire will consume them. 10 You will destroy their offspring from the earth, and their children from among humankind. 11 If they plan evil against you, if they devise mischief, they will not succeed. 12 For you will put them to flight; you will aim at their faces with your bows.

13 Be exalted, O Lord, in your strength! We will sing and praise your power.

Footnotes:

Psalm 20:9 Gk: Heb give victory, O Lord; let the King answer us when we call

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 110

Psalm 110

Assurance of Victory for God’s Priest-King

Of David. A Psalm.

1 The Lord says to my lord, “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies your footstool.”

2 The Lord sends out from Zion your mighty scepter. Rule in the midst of your foes. 3 Your people will offer themselves willingly on the day you lead your forces on the holy mountains.[a] From the womb of the morning, like dew, your youth[b] will come to you. 4 The Lord has sworn and will not change his mind, “You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.”[c]

5 The Lord is at your right hand; he will shatter kings on the day of his wrath. 6 He will execute judgment among the nations, filling them with corpses; he will shatter heads over the wide earth. 7 He will drink from the stream by the path; therefore he will lift up his head.

Footnotes:

Psalm 110:3 Another reading is in holy splendor

Psalm 110:3 Cn: Heb the dew of your youth

Psalm 110:4 Or forever, a rightful king by my edict

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Psalm 116-117

Psalm 116

Thanksgiving for Recovery from Illness

1 I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice and my supplications. 2 Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live. 3 The snares of death encompassed me; the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me; I suffered distress and anguish. 4 Then I called on the name of the Lord: “O Lord, I pray, save my life!”

5 Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; our God is merciful. 6 The Lord protects the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me. 7 Return, O my soul, to your rest, for the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.

8 For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling. 9 I walk before the Lord in the land of the living. 10 I kept my faith, even when I said, “I am greatly afflicted”; 11 I said in my consternation, “Everyone is a liar.”

12 What shall I return to the Lord for all his bounty to me? 13 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord, 14 I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people. 15 Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful ones. 16 O Lord, I am your servant; I am your servant, the child of your serving girl. You have loosed my bonds. 17 I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice and call on the name of the Lord. 18 I will pay my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people, 19 in the courts of the house of the Lord, in your midst, O Jerusalem. Praise the Lord!

Psalm 117

Universal Call to Worship

1 Praise the Lord, all you nations! Extol him, all you peoples! 2 For great is his steadfast love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord!

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Exodus 17

Water from the Rock

17 From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2 The people quarreled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?” 3 But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” 4 So Moses cried out to the Lord, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” 5 The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6 I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7 He called the place Massah[a] and Meribah,[b] because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”

Amalek Attacks Israel and Is Defeated

8 Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim. 9 Moses said to Joshua, “Choose some men for us and go out, fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand.” 10 So Joshua did as Moses told him, and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. 11 Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed. 12 But Moses’ hands grew weary; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; so his hands were steady until the sun set. 13 And Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the sword.

14 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Write this as a reminder in a book and recite it in the hearing of Joshua: I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.” 15 And Moses built an altar and called it, The Lord is my banner. 16 He said, “A hand upon the banner of the Lord![c] The Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation.”

Footnotes:

Exodus 17:7 That is Test

Exodus 17:7 That is Quarrel

Exodus 17:16 Cn: Meaning of Heb uncertain

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

1 Peter 4:7-19

7 The end of all things is near;[a] therefore be serious and discipline yourselves for the sake of your prayers. 8 Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins. 9 Be hospitable to one another without complaining. 10 Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received. 11 Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ. To him belong the glory and the power forever and ever. Amen.

Suffering as a Christian

12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. 14 If you are reviled for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the spirit of glory,[b] which is the Spirit of God, is resting on you.[c] 15 But let none of you suffer as a murderer, a thief, a criminal, or even as a mischief maker. 16 Yet if any of you suffers as a Christian, do not consider it a disgrace, but glorify God because you bear this name. 17 For the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God; if it begins with us, what will be the end for those who do not obey the gospel of God? 18 And

“If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinners?”

19 Therefore, let those suffering in accordance with God’s will entrust themselves to a faithful Creator, while continuing to do good.

Footnotes:

1 Peter 4:7 Or is at hand

1 Peter 4:14 Other ancient authorities add and of power

1 Peter 4:14 Other ancient authorities add On their part he is blasphemed, but on your part he is glorified

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

John 16:16-33

Sorrow Will Turn into Joy

16 “A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me.” 17 Then some of his disciples said to one another, “What does he mean by saying to us, ‘A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’; and ‘Because I am going to the Father’?” 18 They said, “What does he mean by this ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about.” 19 Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Are you discussing among yourselves what I meant when I said, ‘A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’? 20 Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. 21 When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. 22 So you have pain now; but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. 23 On that day you will ask nothing of me.[a] Very truly, I tell you, if you ask anything of the Father in my name, he will give it to you.[b] 24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.

Peace for the Disciples

25 “I have said these things to you in figures of speech. The hour is coming when I will no longer speak to you in figures, but will tell you plainly of the Father. 26 On that day you will ask in my name. I do not say to you that I will ask the Father on your behalf; 27 for the Father himself loves you, because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God.[c] 28 I came from the Father and have come into the world; again, I am leaving the world and am going to the Father.”

29 His disciples said, “Yes, now you are speaking plainly, not in any figure of speech! 30 Now we know that you know all things, and do not need to have anyone question you; by this we believe that you came from God.” 31 Jesus answered them, “Do you now believe? 32 The hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each one to his home, and you will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone because the Father is with me. 33 I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!”

Footnotes:

John 16:23 Or will ask me no question

John 16:23 Other ancient authorities read Father, he will give it to you in my name

John 16:27 Other ancient authorities read the Father

New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1989, 1993 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.