#but he's grateful to have had his children regardless of the circumstances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweet-vanilla-sims · 2 months

Text

Year 1679 - Part 1

TW/CW: Child Death, Death Mention, Teen Pregnancy

The year began with the Collari family officially confirming a new future addition to the family. While at the Ludovici home, Katharine was starting to worry about not having conceived since the birth of her son, when he was younger it was a relief to only have one young child to care for but as she and Leonardo tried, no luck was had. Though as days turned to weeks of little rain, maybe it was for the best...

In a way of distracting herself, Katharine was happy to treat her cousin and cousin's mother-in-law to new outfits though nothing too fancy since they didn't wish to impose too much.

February brought with it news that the young Collari boy had passed from unclean water. Ashley felt for the loss the family was feeling having lost her eldest but it just made her more grateful for her healthy children.

After weeks drawn into months by storms and poor weather, Giovanni Cesare finally reached the shores of the islands he had been dreaming of. It was a new start for him enough so that the moment he arrived he decided to simply go by Giovanni. He never vocalized the feelings but he always knew that his name was only his because his late older brother died before he grew up and on the islands at least, Giovanni Cesare had no legacy to continue or live up to. It was just him in a new part of the world his family could hardly dream of. He was quickly sent off to work for a wealthy family, the Bailey's to serve them which was a surprise to Giovanni Cesare as he had expected more physically demanding work but he was not going to complain about having easy work.

It was April when Cristofolo went to visit his love and when he saw her she was deep in thought looking troubled. He worried for her and questioned her only to find that their youthful passions had let to Antea being with child. With the words spoken aloud neither really knew what to do as neither had expected a child.

For Antea, telling her aunt about her child with Cristofolo was difficult as she knew her reaction would be poor but after the initial anger and shock, Gabriella told her that the young couple should at the very least wed before the birth of child to preserve what little was left of her niece's reputation for both her and her unborn child's sake.

Given the illegitimate status of Cristofolo regardless of his adoption and the fact that he had an older brother and Jolene's pregnancy, Bianca had little argument over the young couple marrying and like Gabriella, pushed for it to happen sooner than later so as to not have a bastard for a great-grandchild. While it wasn't the romantic circumstances the young pair would have liked for the promise of spending their lives together, they were excited to marry and so before April came to an end they were wed.

The good feelings following the wedding of Cristofolo and Antea came to an end in May when Alessandro's father died from the lack of water brought on by the famine and the loss of one of the Laurent boys didn't make Alessandra's fears for her own child ease in the slightest when June came and labor struck her. Despite that on June 18th, the Rossi family welcomed a son they named Iseppo. Though July brought with it news that the late Osana's husband passed in some sort of accident and his widow was more than happy to leave young Juliette in the care of her aunt, Orelia.

The work Giovanni Cesare had wasn't difficult like he had first assumed though his employers were often rude to him and treated him with little respect. Most of his work consisted of fixing things the lady of the house or her eldest broke in one of their constant fights or cooking meals. He tried to keep his head down as best he could but the fights were hard to ignore when they got loud.

He did feel for the younger lady of the house Vivienne as some of what they argued about seemed to be her future since her step-father was eager to have the child of his wife's first marriage out of the home and sadly the girl's mother was also of the same mind. It wasn't his place to interject but he'd watch to make sure that the young lady was safe when she'd walk down to the beach late at night after fighting with her mother.

As the summer progressed, Landon and Jolene repaired their relationship especially in the wake of the loss of their young son and the anticipation of their newborn.

Sadly it wasn't meant to be as August took Landon into the Watcher's embrace following a bout of sudden but severe illness and sadly the famine showed no signs of stopping.

One night after a particularly nasty fight between the lady of the house and her daughter, while Giovanni Cesare was following her down to the water he was joined by her younger brother who also felt the same and the pair were caught by Vivienne. At first Vivienne was shocked to learn that she had been followed by them both yet she was flattered that her young brother was checking in on her and while she didn't say it aloud near her brother, the fact the handsome young servant cared for her safety made her heart flutter.

And so even after the young boy left, having been caught Giovanni Cesare realized that there was no more point hiding that he wanted to make sure she was okay. The pair spent a good portion of the night chatting and making sculptures on the beach to cheer up Vivienne. Giovanni was glad to see the young woman perk up though Vivienne was seeing the young man in a new light not as a mere servant but as a young man who while still beneath her was now worth her attentions.

2 notes · View notes

bleedingmusk · 2 years

Text

The blessings of Imaan and the blessings of good physical and mental health:

You should cherish your Imaan as well as your mental and physical health, and we should really be grateful to Allah ta'alaa if He has granted us both or either one, because many of us don't really appreciate these great blessings until it is too late and they are weakened or gone from us.

Yesterday I had an opportunity to visit the hospital for many hours and was able to see sick men, women and children, patients suffering from varieties of aliments, but the ones that remained in my mind were three:

1. A man who came in for substance abuse/drugs, the man was in so much pain he was screaming and defecting and urinating himself on the floor Infront of other patients, that really makes you appreciate the blessings of good mental and physical health and the blessings of the Shariah in banning all intoxicants such as alcohol, weed, cocaine and heroine which destroy individuals, families, communities and societies.

2. An old woman who had her throat removed and was breathing through tubes in her throat, which made such loud noises it reminds you a damaged car exhaust pipe or bullfrog croaking, this woman was just left there alone asleep amongst other patients who were just starring at her, disturbed by her throat noises and probably wondering where her family is? that really makes you appreciate your health, but also the blessing of having family and friends around you, and should make a Muslimah appreciate the blessing of having responsible Mahram in her especially in times of illness and difficulties.

3. A man in his 30's who was brought in on suicide watch, he tried to jump infront of a train because he found life difficult and unbearable, they brought him to hospital for bruising etc, he then escaped, and went outside where he broke a beer bottle and tried to slice his throat open to end his life, but was overpowered by the security guards, as you listened to him complaining about his life, you appreciate the blessing of good mental health and more Importantly the blessing of Imaan in Qadar wa Qadr and how it brings such tranquility to the heart of the believers regardless of whatever circumstances they are going through.

We ask Allaah ta'alaa for protect and health in our Imaan, mental health and physical health.

– shared

16 notes · View notes

mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

Hey anon! Okay, I’m just gonna level with you. This request? This request right here? Probably one of my favourites. I went feral over this at 3am and my monkey brain fabricated an entire life story for Xiao when he’s not even out yet.

I sorta combined this request with my feral plot idea (which is honestly a 20k word fic at this point), but ahem, I hope you like and np^^ gotta make so many offerings so Xiao hopefully blesses me. Have a lovely day anon!!

--- Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

---

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

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @sunnshiii @hanniejji @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav @youaskedfurret

---

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

The red string of fate is a concept that those who are connected by a red string are destined to meet and fall in love. Regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The red string can never be broken unless one connected passes away.

Alatus

For the past few days, Alatus would wake up early and scale the mountains of his small village to pick Qingxin flowers. The morning dew would still be on the petals before the sun came by and evaporated everything. It became a bit of a small joke that the elders used to make, that a earth spirit would appear at the break of dawn to place the flowers for harvest. Not that Alatus minded, he was grateful that whatever celestial spirt was out there made sure to replace the ones he took. Remembering to always offer a prayer of thanks and a small offering, you would scold him if he didn’t.

He quickly scaled and vaulted over the wooden beam and slipped into your room. He winced at the sound of his shoes landing on the wooden floor but you didn’t seem to stir. You were still sleeping peacefully as Alatus took the fresh flowers to add to the ones already in your small vase beside you. They were your favourite flower after all. He reminisces about when you were both children and how you would drag him to mountains and tell him all about how at the very top there was his beautiful white flower. But you were both too young with small limbs to even attempt to climb it, plus if you somehow managed to do it, it would take too long and both your parents would be worried. It never seemed to deter you as you reasoned that a wind spirit would help your journey. Come to think of it, you always put a lot of faith into celestial beings. But he goes along with your plan, never one to contain your desire to explore.

He’s suddenly snapped out of his memories when he hears a soft knock on the door. It quietly opens to reveal your mother. She gives him a small smile as he looked a bit guilty for getting caught breaking in before waving him over to hand him something. You left him with a small bamboo package that you had wanted to give on his birthday. On top of the bamboo, you had wrote a short but warming message that you were worried about him always running off outside and that he might catch a cold. He smiled softly at your words, ingraining the way your ink brush flowed down the bamboo sticks into his mind. He offer’s a small thanks as she gives him a comforting hug. Whether for him or her he doesn’t know and she leaves.

He carefully untied the brown string keeping the package together to unravel a blue, white, and gold sleeve. He silently marveled at how beautiful it was and held it up to the light, it almost seemed to shine with subtle highlights. He has no idea how you managed to create this, he had never even seen the dye of red or gold used in clothing before. Perhaps the celestial beings decided to bless you for your prayers and devotion. He gives one small squeeze of your hand as he ties the sleeve to his arm and he slips out through the same window he came from. He looks up at the mountain’s he’s scaled before setting on the tallest one. One so tall the elders say that it could reach celestia.

As he scales the mountain he can feel a taint tug on his thumb, before it slowly disappears. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, breathes in deeply, and continues upwards.

The Golden-Winged King

One of his first adepti duties was to investigate the place he once knew as his home. There had been a dream eating demon that had been spreading curses onto unsuspecting youths. Putting them into eternal sleep before they bodies finally succumbed and they passed away. It was horrible and Alatus swore he would do everything in his power to make the dream demon suffer. Unfortunely, seeing as this was his first time venturing out back into the moral world and still recovering from his trials, he was assigned to work with a senior anemo adepti. One who was well-versed in using polearms that could “show him the ropes” as mortals would say.

This other adepti was too loud and erratic for his tastes compared to the calm and peaceful friend he once knew. Always getting side-tracked and flying around Alatus like some overgrown pixie. Never taking anything serious even though the both of you were tasked to destroy evil. But he held his tongue since this was his senior, gripping his sleeve when he was especially annoyed. This only seemed to spur the other anemo adepti further and inquire about the sleeve. Naturally, Alatus was hostile and guarded. That was first time he ever raised his voice which instead of becoming offended or angry, the other adepti was impressed.

From then on the other adepti seemed to want to interact with Alatus at any given moment. From checking in with him on his latest mission or if he heard about how the delicious flowers tasted. Who even ate flowers? Either way, every instance of communication was brushed aside, he would always make some weak excuse that he needed to train. Which lead to the other challenging him. The both of you were the same element so it would be a good time to see who was the best at wielding it. Overtime he began to look forward to your weekly spars. Even finding a bit of joy out of them. Ever since he had climbed up the mountain it had been constant training and hardships but when it came to these spars. It was fun. Alatus began to open his heart a tiny bit, let’s himself relax and fall into amusement when he see’s his partner’s face pop over him as they hovered over him.

He even began to feel his locked up heart start to beat a bit faster whenever he saw his partner perk up and wave at him. Whenever you threw your arm around him he never brushed you off like he used to, just basked in your presence as you rambled about how this stuck up bird was running everyone through the ground with her demands. It was amusing for fresh adepti’s to see you both interact. The ever stoic and aloof Alatus that taught them through strict rules loosen up immediately and smile whenever your head popped up to scold him for his training methods.

It was fun. Until the day he became possessed and killed you with your own weapon.

Guardian Yaksha

Guizhong was concerned. Ever since Rex Lapis had saved the poor adepti man from his possession, he had locked himself in. He still fulfilled his duties with alarming accuracy but it seemed that he completely on auto-pilot. He could stand in the pouring rain without realizing it or he always seemed to be in such a rush. Asking to do anything that needed to be done rather than relax. He was going to end up running through his long years at this rate. She brought it up to Rex Lapis and his fellow Yaksha but none of them had the time or want to check in on him. It was a time of war after all. Except one.

You watch him stand in the rain. Any attempts from you or Guizhong to ask if he was better always failed and you didn’t want to push. But this was already past the point of simple concern. So the next time you saw him relapse you walked over and embraced him. He usually carried himself as stiff as possible but you swore you were holding one of Rex Lapis’s pillars. You braced yourself to get thrown off or at the very least be questioned but none of those things happened. He just stood there and to be honest, you weren’t sure if that was even more concerning. You both didn’t say anything even when the rain stopped until Rex Lapis had summoned you both over.

You and him never developed a close friendship but he never seemed to brush you away whenever you sat beside him ever since you hugged him in the rain. A bare acknowledgement on good days but that was alright. Just sitting in each other’s presence when the war wanted to be quiet somedays was nice. On harder days when fighting took too much of a toll on your body you would lean your head on his shoulder. He never shrugged you off or seemed bothered by it, in fact, it almost seemed as if he leaned back against you. You both never spoke during these moments, just a silent understanding looming over you both.

Then when Morax announced that Guizhong had passed away, you felt as if you somewhat understood how Xiao felt. You didn’t even register that you had walked back to the same place Xiao was standing back when he was in the rain. The war was finally over but after everything that had happened to get to this point, it was hard. You knew that a few of your other Yaksha’s were ready to return to Jueyun Karst or return to earth. You blink quickly as you feel two arms wrap around you and you realize how funny fate seems to be. You choke out some unintelligible noise that’s a mix between a laugh and a sob as you cling onto him and let your bottled up emotions pour out.

He’s the last person you see in the newly established Liyue, wishing him luck in the rest of his journey, as you return to the earth. You aren’t sure what you’ll turn into but you hope that the peaceful atmosphere you both created will remain.

Xiao

It was completely out of the blue when you asked if he wanted to come on an adventure with you. You were both sitting under the tree that held the Wangshu inn up when you suddenly sat up and pointed in some far off direction across Liyue. Asked if he wanted to come with you after the lantern festival was over. He was a bit taken aback, you were a traveler first and foremost but you never asked if he wanted to come with you. You had always assumed that he wanted to stay as a protector of Liyue but after what Morax, now Zhongli, had said and how it was time to him to step down. You decided to ask him. It didn’t have to be far, you both could go to the stone gate if he wanted, just if he wanted to come with you anywhere.

His first instinct is to decline but you end up cutting him off before he can say anything.

“I know you have your reasons and loyalties to stay as Liyue’s protector. That’s why I’m not asking for you to accompany me across Teyvat. But I don’t know when I’m going to be back and after what happened in Liyue, I thought it would be nice to just, take a break, and go anywhere. You don’t have to accompany me if you don’t want to but I think it’d be nice to wander together,” you say as you continue to look across the land from the balcony. He can’t see where you’re looking at exactly but he ponders your words.

To wander and go anywhere. Just the two of you. He’s never even considered leaving Liyue even after all the demons were replaced with weak hilichurls and slimes. He gazes up at the tree’s leaves, looks further to see celestia, and even further back to his home. Guizhong always said he needed to relax and live in the moment of now rather than running past everything but was he really ready for that?

“Ah, sorry was that a bit too forward? I really didn’t mean anything ba-”

“Yes. Let’s go,” Xiao cuts you off as his eyes shine in a new light of determination, “Wherever you want to go, I will come with you.”

You blink once, twice, before a bright grin stretch's across your face as you quickly ask if he’s joking. He’s not, and you cheer excitedly as you list off different places you’ve wanted to explore. Perhaps the shoal? Maybe even further into the chasm? Actually wait, the electro archon has closed that area off so maybe not there. Xiao patiently listens to you ramble as he smiles softly. Your excitement is addicting and he can feel his heart flutter just a bit. How long has it been since he felt this way? He can feel a small tug on his thumb, he looks down but he can’t see anything, but there’s a comfortable weight that he’s felt has been missing for a very long time.

---

If this seems interesting and people seem to enjoy it, I can post the actual fic when Xiao banner drops as a bit of a catalyst. It’s basically the same idea. Though it’s kinda long so I have no idea when that’s going to be finished. It might turn into a thank you gift instead. (or ahem, you know, if you wanna commission me and see it earlier there’s that haha just kidding;;).

Honestly, I took a lot of liberties. I read the lore on adepti and Xiao but most of this is my monkey brain and previous semi xiao fics (which you don’t have to read but it would be helpful to see extended parts). Phew, this took a lot of time. It’s not as cute as my other fics but hopefully you all enjoyed it^^

Actually, nevermind. I hate this. I’ll keep it up since I haven’t posted this week yet but I hate this.

942 notes · View notes

sakuraihoshi-personalblog · 2 years

Photo

I've seen too many posts linking Tomgreg to Pride and Prejudice (2005) so before I go to sleep I imagined another AU fanfic that combines both universes:

What if the similarities between Mr. Darcy/Elizabeth and Tom/Greg were not "coincidence"?

What if actually Greg and Tom were destined to love each other from before birth and they were the reincarnations of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy respectively?

Perhaps not all of their past relatives would meet them again in this life, but the love that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy had for each other was so powerful that on the day they lay dying, all they asked of God was to allow them to meet again.

Regardless of the bad circumstances, regardless of whether they once again had different ideas or were involved in family problems, none of that matters, the only thing that mattered to them was that their path would be the same again and that they would love each other.

But maybe God had other plans for them...

And although he "kept" his promise that they would meet again, he knew that his path would be even more difficult than in his past life. Because no one completely repeats the personality they had before or the physique, not even the gender.

If in her past life Elizabeth was determined, sure of herself and a little proud, Greg might only partially fulfill the first point. If Elizabeth was small and beautiful, Greg would be "giant" and maybe not ugly, but much less handsome.

Mr. Darcy would retain his passionate love and physical traits, but he would lose the respect he had in his past life, and would only retain people's bad talk towards him. Also his tactfulness when talking about him would worsen, and make him even more difficult to accept in society.

Because his weird attitude was considered mysterious, attractive, maybe haughty but fascinating in the 1800s... but in the middle of 2018 they are nothing more than awkward personality traits for everyone.

And of course; Tom and Greg don't know that they already loved each other once, and lived happily ever after...until the oldest of them starts having dreams. Dreams where he sees himself next to his beautiful wife in her luxurious mansion, taking care of her two beautiful children, laughing, dancing and sometimes fighting, but loving each other madly.

Tom wonders why he has started to dream this, and remembers that the first time it happened to him was after he met Greg.

But this is not possible right?

Because Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are fictional characters from a classic novel...they couldn't have existed! And much less could he be the handsome Mr. Darcy who has conquered the hearts of hundreds of women around the world, that is; he can't even woo his wife properly.

he refuses to believe that reincarnations is true, but he begins to reconsider when he sees that Greg, for small lapses of time is determined, is strong, is brave as Elizabeth was. In his free time, he is in charge of reading and enjoying simple things, just as his "wife" demonstrates in his dreams. And his smiles are the same, full of affection and admiration only dedicated to him.

So it's a fact that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were real but... wasn't Elizabeth supposed to represent the author and she hadn't been married? Or maybe... Maybe Jane Austen was never Elizabeth, but she was Mary, and she told the story of her sister and her brother-in-law through her eyes or whatever.

The dreams increase and Tom becomes more and more aware of the similarities between them and his past lives. He even makes her wonder if at least one of the people around them in their current life was a family member or friend in their past life. He greatly regrets that in this life he does not have his beloved sister Georgiana by his side, much less Bingley. But he begins to believe that Shiv is indeed the wayward Caroline who at least this time "won his love."

At least; he is grateful that in this life he hasn't abused Greg as much as she did with Elizabeth.

Tom sometimes wants to tell Greg everything he's dreaming about, but he regrets it every time he tries, because he doesn't want to be considered crazier than he already is. So he only considers one way: to show Greg the love he professed in his past life, maybe in a less sweet way like Mr. Darcy, but just as intense love after all.

Convincing himself that everything has to go on like this for a while, not realizing that Greg knows it too.

Because he too has seen these dreams since he was a child, but he hadn't given them any importance until he met him.

That's why when Tom asked him if he would kiss him, he hesitated and didn't answer yes or no...because he thought that Tom had also noticed the resemblance of him to his past life.

Greg thought that Mr. Darcy's attitude was still hidden, but it would show up soon and Tom would love him, just as Mr. Darcy loved Elizabeth.

But things don't always move fast, and he will have to be patient.

Meanwhile, Willa also watches everything from afar, just like in her past life almost nobody notices her in the Roy family, she is still the shy Mary of her past life, or rather the creative Jane. But now, although she is less fortunate in her career as an artist than before, she at least won't be left alone. And she accepts that things cannot always be the same.

#pride and prejudice #tomgreg fic #tomgreg #tomgreg au #mr darcy #tom wambsgans #elizabeth bennet #greg hirsch #funny ideas for fanfics #I know this is weird but I loved writing it

20 notes · View notes

moonbeam-writing · 3 years

Text

♡ Day Three: Stupid Cupid ♡

❥ Character: Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

❥ Prompt: Enemies/Rivals to Lovers (+ a hint of Mutual Pining)!

❥ Quick Note: I don't even know how to explain how much fun I had writing this and I'm so excited for the other drabbles to be posted!!

❥ Warnings: None!

❥ Word Count: 2,012

— ♡ —

(Y/N) left out a long sigh as she sat on the balcony of the girl's hotel room. The Kyoto trip had been far more exhausting than she anticipated, though that was partially her fault. With Koro-Sensei as a teacher and Karma back from suspension, she should have known better.

(Y/N) and Karma grew up together, and despite being civil enough to each other, their personalities seemed to clash just enough for something of a rivalry to be formed. Neither of them even knew what they were fighting with the other about. It wasn't who was stronger or more violent, nor was it about who was smarter. They just seemed to need to be better than the other and that was that.

Rio Nakamura, on the other hand, was convinced that she knew the reason. According to her, their little competition was based on who could hide their feelings better. Rio and Koro-Sensei were so sure that the two had feelings for each other, though, obviously, neither of them wanted to admit it.

(Y/N)’s best friend and their teacher came up with a bunch of reasons as to why the two wouldn't admit things. Some of the most likely reasons they had come up with was that Karma just flat out wasn't the type who knew how to deal with his feelings, (Y/N) would be too anxious to make the first move and would rather die, the two were just intimidated by the possible change that it could bring.

As much as (Y/N) hated to admit it, they were right on some level. She liked him, but was horrified by the changes it could bring. The two had spent so long arguing with each other that she wasn't sure what they’d do otherwise. She didn't know where she’d be without Karma’s snarky remarks.

“Penny for your thoughts, sunshine?” A relatively fitting and oftenly used term for Karma Akabane: Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Suppressing an smile and instead, rolling her eyes, (Y/N) turned to Karma. The usual smug and teasing smirk he normally wore was plastered onto his lips and all she could do was look back out ahead of herself again before answering.

“Maybe if you were someone else.” She quietly chuckled to herself, moving her eyes to look at him again. “What are you doing here, anyway? Isn't Koro-Sensei still on the loose?”

“Probably.” The redhead shrugged, mirroring the girl beside him. He had to admit, the girls had a nice view.

Karma’s answer took (Y/N) by surprise. “What do you mean? Normally you’re first in line to go after him.” Her shock sounded in her voice and Karma couldn't keep his smirk from widening. “Also, what are you doing here? The room you would have needed to go into to get here is for the girls.”

“Aw, come on, (Y/N)!” Karma heaved a dramatic sigh. “Can’t I just come talk to my favorite girl?”

Though he posed the question like he were kidding, Karma was being completely honest. Despite how the two would often bicker like children, Karma really did feel somewhat close to the girl. After all, wouldn't it be rather difficult not to feel close to someone you've argued, bantered with, and competed against since you were little?

Granted, aside from the rival status that had been bestowed upon them, he recognized that his rivalry with (Y/N) was far different from his rivalry with Asano. He couldn't possibly convey how grateful he was for that. He wasn’t sure that he could cope if (Y/N) hated him.

This rivalry was much more positive and the two of them knew it. They were always secretly proud of whoever came out on top, outwardly giving a sarcastic comment or childish gesture. The two of them also always had the other’s back, despite not always outwardly showing it. That being said, (Y/N) has always blamed Karma for that, due to the fact that he could always seem to take care of himself.

“There’s no way I’m your favorite girl, Akabane. Your favorite girl to annoy? Sure. However, Okuda’s actually your favorite girl.” (Y/N) responded, keeping her tone witty and joking, however there was a slightly bitter edge to it.

(Y/N) would have loved to believe that she was Karma’s favorite girl like he had said, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. With Okuda’s brain power, specifically in regards to science, Karma could find quite the partner in crime inside of her after finding her wild side. After all, that was one of the things that Karma did best, at least in (Y/N)’s eyes. He was always so good at helping people let go.

“Ha ha, I can understand where your mind is probably at, but you’re wrong.” Karma pointed out, turning himself to look at (Y/N) once again. “I barely know her. You, on the other hand, are someone I know. I’ve been bickering with you for years, (Y/N). If you didn’t amuse me in some way, we wouldn’t talk anymore, and I talk to you the most.”

Karma’s words left (Y/N) feeling conflicted. Was he being honest with her? He normally always was, but for some reason she just couldn't find herself believing it. What he said might have been true under normal circumstances, but (Y/N) couldn't see herself as someone who would fall under “normal circumstances”.

Despite her thoughts, (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh a little, though once again, it was more bitter than she anticipated. Regardless, the devilish boy beside her loved the sound.

“I’m sure. Just go back, Karma. Everyone’s probably going to come back soon, you wouldn’t want any of the questions that would follow if you were seen here with me.”

“Okay, and? Half the time they don't question my motives for things, and even then, I don't care.”

(Y/N) mentally swore to herself. She should have known that he would have a way to counter anything she said. Karma always did and it didn't sit right with her sometimes.

Despite how much she secretly adored the sadist, their rivalry absolutely wasn’t good in terms of how (Y/N) would occasionally see herself. To (Y/N), Karma would always be better than her, he would always be right. She had to admit that. It made her proud of him, sure, but it was also frustrating. She couldn’t help but get into her own head about it. (Y/N) always tried her best to get ahead of him, and though she’s supposedly had a few victories, (Y/N) knew that Karma was always going to be better than her. It was just an unspoken fact at this point.

“Right,” (Y/N) relented with a sigh. “Sorry.”

“You should be!” Karma answered as though he were stating the obvious. The girl beside him flinched slightly as though she had done something wrong.

Though Karma wasn't always the best with his own feelings, he could read others like a book. Even more so the girl he has always considered to be his best friend and one-and-only. Karma knew exactly what’s been going on in her head and it bums him out every time. So, with all of that said, the boy decided that tonight he’d put all of his thoughts about her out into the open. She seemed as though she needed to hear something nice about herself.

“You need to think more of yourself, (Y/N)!” Karma couldn't help but smile at the slight widening of (Y/N)’s eyes. Her reactions were some of his favorites.

“What?” (Y/N) almost immediately felt guilt pooling in her stomach. It were as though she were a little kid again and she was caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to and (Y/N) knew Karma noticed. He was too observant to miss it.

Karma’s smirk was as lively as ever. As nice as he wanted to be to the girl beside him, he couldn't help but tease her a little. If anything, he was sure it might cheer her up a little.

“You're so mean to yourself! You spend so much time worrying about whether or not you can actually compete against me, you've been destroying yourself.” He noticed (Y/N)’s grip on the rail in front of her tighten. “If you worry so much about something you’re already succeeding in, you’ll get wrinkles. The smile lines by your eyes are cute, but do you really want more?” He chuckled out, noticing the slight slack in her grip on the railing and the genuine, amused laugh that left her. It was small, but there.

“Getting kind words of caution from you? I never would have thought. To what do I owe the pleasure of those words, Akabane?”

Karma mentally celebrated his win in his head as amused and playful sarcasm laced itself in her words.

He gave a false hum as though he were in thought. “Do you really want to know?”

“You literally just dug yourself into a hole. You know I hate it when people hide things from me.” Karma just laughed as (Y/N) sat there with a pout. “Karma!” She whined. “Tell me!”

“You really wanna know?”

The two could feel the anticipation in the air. It sat heavily between them, but it wasn’t necessarily negative.

“Of course I do! You know I do.”

Once again, Karma found himself snickering at (Y/N). She could just be too cute at times.

“Okay. In that case...” In a very fitting fashion, Karma sat quietly for a moment, adding to (Y/N)’s suspense. “I love you. You’re my favorite rival, my best friend, and somewhere along the way I realized that I love you. You’re the best, (Y/N), and honestly better than me at most things unless it’s math or torture.” He threw a mildly flirty wink her way, taking in the way she averted her gaze away from him, the barely noticeable tint to her cheeks and ears. Karma knew he made the right move.

The two found themselves engulfed in silence again, still full of anticipation, though this time was different. It hinged entirely on (Y/N).

“Really?” Her voice was soft as she looked at Karma in surprise. He nodded at her with a shockingly soft smile. “I love you too.”

Karma grinned widely at her. “I'm not entirely sure on what to do next, I'm going to be completely honest with you.”

The pair laughed together and (Y/N) reached out to take his hand. It was all so new for her and it genuinely made her nervous, but she couldn't help it.

Using their connected hands, Karma pulled (Y/N) closer to him. Nothing big happened, just the two holding hands and being close together.

Until, they heard some noise, that is.

(Y/N) and Karma weren’t sure just how they hadn’t noticed before, probably from being so wrapped up in each other, but nearly right in their line of sight was Koro-Sensei, scribbling away in his little notebook.

The shock of their teacher seemingly coming out of nowhere faded quickly though, as Karma pulled out one of the specially made guns from the pocket of his pants and shot at Koro-Sensei. Unfortunately for the new couple, none of them hit, however it got him to stop writing about them, so they didn't exactly lose.

“You know, I always knew this day would come!” Koro-Sensei exclaimed in his usually theatrical way. “I knew it as soon as Karma was let off of his suspension.”

“Um, okay?”

“Ah, young love. Well, I’ll let you kids get back to it! Though, the girls are back, so good luck!” And just like that, their teacher blasted himself away from the situation at Mach 20.

“Okay, Karma.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “We have two options. You can either help me sneak away, or we can face the music.”

“We'll just see what happens first.”

#valentine's day event!#assassination classroom #assassination classroom oneshot #assassination classroom drabble #karma x reader #karma #karma akabane x reader #karma akabane #karma akabane x reader oneshot #karma akabane x reader drabble

316 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Getting Bored - part 3 - ao3 - tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Perhaps it was merely the competent coordinator in him, but Jin Guangyao truly appreciated clever schemes working out exactly as planned, even if he was the one being schemed against.

It didn’t count when it was a matter of chance, like Nie Mingjue finding him in the middle of committing a murder – that was his own fault for not paying better attention, not planning better, and to a certain degree simply his bad luck – but rather, when there was a deliberate effort to set up the circumstances in such a way as to leave an enemy with no retreat and no way out but to react exactly as you wish…

Beautiful.

Annoying, of course, when it interfered with his own plans. But a pleasure to observe nonetheless.

Sadly, his father did not take such things as calmly as he did.

By this point, Jin Guangyao was able to repress his flinch at the sound of something expensive breaking as it was thrown against the wall.

“Motherless bastard, son of a whore!” Jin Guangshan hissed, and it was only the fact that he was glaring out the window of the inn they were staying at in Yiling that let Jin Guangyao conclude that he was not referring to himself. “How dare he pull a thing like his – and at Yiling, no less? The sheer gall of it –”

The gall, Jin Guangyao presumed, was in outwitting Jin Guangshan and outdoing the Jin sect at their own game. It had to be that, because in all other respects it was a masterful stroke: the Yiling Patriarch implicitly realigning himself with the Jiang sect by acting in the role of Jiang Cheng’s shixiong in hosting the announcement of the marriage between Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng, the Nie sect’s agreement with that location representing their endorsement of Wei Wuxian’s return to the cultivation world and the end of the ostracization the Jin sect had worked so hard to accomplish, while the marriage itself represented the formation of an iron-solid alliance between the Nie and Jiang sects that in a single stroke rendered the Jin-Jiang marriage alliance null – since after all, Jiang Cheng would be bound to put his husband’s requests above those of what, in the end, was merely a married-out sister.

(The fact that Jiang Cheng adored his sister unreasonably and wasn’t the sort to listen to husbandly authority was irrelevant. Jin Guangyao might be smart enough to use that, but Jin Guangshan wasn’t.)

Or perhaps what truly galled Jin Guangshan was how, while they had all been absorbing the implications of the news they had received along with the invitation, Jin Zixuan had loudly – and publicly – exclaimed that it was wonderful, joyous news and that he wished Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue a long and happy life together.

Obviously, that would have had to be the public response regardless, but there were ways of saying it and there were ways of saying it. Jin Zixuan’s exclamation hadn’t allowed for any nuance or implication or rumor-mongering, nothing that they could have done to salvage the situation and try to use it as another way to strengthen their sect by weakening the others.

They could have implied that this union in fact represented Nie Mingjue’s hot-headed impulsiveness, even irrationality, hinted at unspoken but well-known things about Nie Mingjue’s longevity and mental state – suggested that Jiang Cheng was trying to take advantage of those things, marrying himself off for a political benefit while only counting a few years in cost…but it was no point in thinking of those things now.

Now, thanks to Jin Zixuan, the only thing they could do was come to this little inn in Yiling and grit their teeth and smile, their lips full of well-wishes they didn’t mean in the slightest.

Moreover, while Jin Guangshan saw the entire thing as little more than an exercise in frustration in his proper heir, who he believed to be too noble and chivalrous to think of the implications before he spoke, Jin Guangyao had seen the faint smile on Jin Zixuan’s face right before he’d spoken, and the expression on his face upon hearing the news hadn’t been surprise.

He’d known, and judging by the pleased but not shocked expression on Mistress Jiang’s face, the source of his knowledge was clear. Jin Zixuan had known, and he’d spoken deliberately; he’d locked his sect into expressing only joy at the union, undermining all their plans, and he’d done it on purpose.

Jin Guangyao was dying to know how Nie Mingjue had arranged that.

Because he had, of course. Jin Guangyao had immediately quizzed his contacts at the Lotus Pier, and they all confirmed that the marriage wasn’t anything as pedestrian as a mere love match – Nie Mingjue had explicitly proposed on the basis of mutual benefit for their sects, and Jiang Cheng had accepted on those self-same grounds. He had even announced it to his sect in that fashion, explaining some of the benefits he believed the arrangements would bring to the Lotus Pier and assuring them that he would never forsake their interests even as he planned to spend at least one month in every three at Qinghe.

If it had been a love match, Jin Guangyao wouldn’t have been that impressed. It didn’t take a genius to fall in love and luck out into a political move that shook the world, especially since Nie Mingjue’s luck had always been irritatingly good, but to deliberately plan and execute such a move – not only the alliance itself, but to also use the arrangement as an excuse to get the Yiling Patriarch and all his tricks and toys onto the side of the Nie sect when days before he had been an enemy to all the world – to use Wei Wuxian in turn to obtain instant approval from the Lan sect, given Lan Wangji’s inexplicable fondness for the man and Lan Xichen’s desire to please his brother – to even use Jiang Cheng’s connection to Jin Zixuan to undermine the Jin sect’s ability to fight back – to do it all at once –

Beautiful. Truly beautiful.

He hadn’t thought Nie Mingjue had it in him, to be honest.

All that talk about honor and doing the right thing and all that – he’d long assumed that it was mere naïveté, the mind of a child in the body of a man trying to play at politics, that Nie Mingjue was a blunt instrument good only for war. In such circumstances, especially with what happened between them in the past, it was only reasonable for Jin Guangyao to break with him fully and support his father instead.

But now that he knew that Nie Mingjue was actually capable of such a clever ploy…

Jin Guangyao watched without expression as his father continued to break his own things in his impotent anger, like a toddler having a tantrum that wouldn’t change anyone’s decisions one bit.

Perhaps it was time to start reconsidering which horse he was backing in this race.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t expected Wei Wuxian to have such a passion for planning his wedding, although in retrospect he really should have. After all, they’d always schemed together as children about the sort of wonderful grandiose wedding they were going to ensure that Jiang Yanli would have, and yet when the time came it had not been possible to include Wei Wuxian in the actual wedding planning or even execution.

He was clearly getting his feelings out about all of that by insisting on micromanaging every possible aspect of this wedding.

Since Jiang Cheng didn’t actually have the patience or interest to argue with the merchants regarding the exact shade of the streamers to be used to decorate the Lotus Pier, he was happy to let Wei Wuxian run wild with it.

He’d worried a little a first – Wei Wuxian was still the Yiling Patriarch, after all, feared and loathed by all – but bizarrely enough everyone seemed to be taking his return to the cultivation world in stride, as if they’d all collectively forgotten that they’d forced Jiang Cheng to expel him from the Jiang sect less than a year before. He’d even heard some of the smaller sect leaders arguing that as adherents to the Jiang sect, they ought to get first access when Wei Wuxian started selling genuine versions of some of his new inventions.

On the basis of Wei Wuxian’s close connection to the sect that had raised him, no less!

Maybe it was only that it was very hard to be afraid of man shouting about how the mandarin ducks in Jiang Cheng’s wedding robes had to be sewn in proper gold thread, none of this half-assed yellow business, didn’t they know that Jiang Cheng had a complexion that would be faded out by yellow?

Still, with that worry settled, Jiang Cheng had very happily allowed Wei Wuxian to use his wedding as a means of reintroducing himself to the cultivation world and settling back into something vaguely resembling his original role as Jiang Cheng’s shixiong – no longer part of the same sect, unfortunately, not the Twin Heroes he’d hoped for when he was younger, but so much better than the unthinkable alternative that he wasn’t angry, only grateful.

Of course, there were some aspects of the wedding preparation that Wei Wuxian couldn’t help with.

Jiang Cheng’s face burned as he looked down at the books on his desk, both the ones he’d already reviewed and the (much larger) pile of books still to go, as well as the study guide he’d been writing for himself on the side. He’d had to steel his spine and ask Nie Huaisang for them, but luckily Nie Huaisang – who was enjoying spectating the wedding planning, since what he was doing couldn’t really be considered helping – had been, as always, a reliable source for such things.

Such…pictures.

Jiang Cheng was getting married, after all, and it wasn’t as though he’d had the mechanics of how cutsleeves did things explained to him during that extremely awkward conversation in his early teens about how babies were made. That talk had been traumatizing enough that he’d properly refrained from doing anything at all with anyone, much less another man, and as a result he had to try to figure things out from the beginning.

It was possible that Nie Mingjue was more educated in such matters than he, and would be able to act as a guide for him, but the idea of making some sort of amateur mistake made Jiang Cheng’s skin crawl. He wasn’t the genius Wei Wuxian was, confident in getting everything right the first time he tried no matter how unprepared he was.

Studying up in advance was the only solution.

Even if it did make his face hot and his breath come too fast and require occasional breaks from the work to go walk around the Lotus Pier until his heart rate came down to something more normal.

(Jiang Cheng secretly suspected that he didn’t feel desire the way other people did – he’d never looked at a person and gone oh yes I like the look of that the way it usually got described, never granted anyone more favors because they were pretty, never felt like he was missing out on something by not having someone in his bed – but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy getting off. In theory, having someone to assist with that would be even better, and he...didn’t know what to do with that.)

Gritting his teeth, Jiang Cheng picked up another book. Not pictures this time, he noted to his relief, although he’d found that some of the narrative texts managed to be even filthier than the explicit images, all implication and suggestion and no wrong faces to get in the way of him imagining himself in that position.

This book, though, started pretty slow. It was well-written, taking the time to flesh out the characters and actually throw in a bit of plot to keep the background from being too boring, though of course the focus remained on the two main characters getting closer together – which they did slowly and cautiously, rather than jumping straight into bed together the way it was in most such books. There was a lot more emphasis on kissing and on their general reticence and growing familiarity around each other, perfectly reasonable given that the characters weren’t that close to each other to start with.

It was a nice change, obviously much more applicable to the situation that he and Nie Mingjue were in than in some of the other books where there was nothing but smut, and Jiang Cheng found himself reading it quite avidly, wanting to find out what happened next, and it wasn’t until he was nearly three-quarters of the way through and the first spring scene had actually cut out before describing the actual contents of the relevant activity that he abruptly realized that the stupid book wasn’t pornography at all, but a romance.

He scowled at the book, which was good enough to finish anyway but still, what a waste of time! Why had Nie Huaisang put this in with the rest of them?

After all, Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue weren’t in a romance – this was a political arrangement, not a love-match. It was all hard-nosed logical decision-making, cost-benefit analysis. Emotions didn’t play a role in it at all, and that was just how Jiang Cheng wanted it, given the mess emotions had made of his parents’ marriage.

Sure, Jiang Cheng enjoyed Nie Mingjue’s company. He found the man interesting and engaging, and enjoyed being around him regardless of whether they were actively doing something or merely sitting in a comfortable shared silence.

Sure, kissing him made Jiang Cheng’s heart race and his face go red, while embracing him made him feel warm. The thought of going to bed with him filled Jiang Cheng with anticipation rather than revulsion – he still didn’t look at Nie Mingjue and break him down into pieces, thinking nice legs or good ass or anything like that, but he thought he could enjoy touching him and being touched in return, and imagining it with him was far more interesting than imagining it with anyone else.

And, yes, sure, it was a bit like that character in the book had put it, that being with him was better than being without him, and being without him felt lonely as it never had before –

…wait.

Wait.

Oh, shit.

“So, I think I might have messed something up,” Jiang Cheng said, bursting into the room that set aside to be Nie Mingjue’s office during the time he would spend at the Lotus Pier, since with it being one month out of three there was bound to be days when they had to deal with confidential sect business that the other couldn’t be involved in. He looked as if he had run the entire way.

Nie Mingjue pushed his papers away. “Is someone dead or imminently dying? Are we going to war?”

Jiang Cheng paused and frowned, distracted from his panic. “No, it’s not that sort of problem.”

“Then there’s time left to fix it,” Nie Mingjue said. Death was irreversible, war was catastrophic, everything else was negotiable – or stab-able. The Nie sect was a very practical sect. “Sit down and tell me what happened from the beginning.”

Jiang Cheng looked relieved at receiving clear instructions, something Nie Mingjue had noticed from early on – it seemed to help his anxiety to know that there was someone keeping their head. Ironically enough, Jiang Cheng himself was excellent at keeping his own head in front of the sort of injustice that sent Nie Mingjue out of his mind with rage; he immediately defaulted to planning on what to do, which in turn calmed Nie Mingjue down.

They were really a very good match, he thought to himself, pleased; it was just as he’d suspected – or, perhaps more accurately, hoped.

Jiang Cheng sat down. “Okay,” he said. “Right. I messed up –”

“Non-fatally.”

“…yes, non-fatally. But I still did mess up, and it involves you.”

Nie Mingjue arched his eyebrows.

“I understand that our marriage is an arrangement designed to better both our sects,” Jiang Cheng said. He was now staring fixedly at the wall a little over Nie Mingjue’s head. “But I appear to have developed…feelings.”

Nie Mingjue managed not to flinch, primarily out of years of practice of attending truly gruesomely awful discussion conferences.

That was a disappointment, especially as things had seemed to be going so well. It had always been a risk, he supposed, and one he knew to prepare himself for, although it did come as something of a surprise – especially this late in the process. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen anyone around Jiang Cheng that he thought might be a likely person for it.

“For whom?” he asked, remaining calm. If the person was inaccessible, or someone who might be joined into the marriage, then the deal was still salvageable – certainly his father hadn’t complained – but if this was a sticking point…

Jiang Cheng blinked at him owlishly. “What? What do you mean for who? For you, obviously!”

Now it was Nie Mingjue’s turn to blink. His heart turned over in his chest, abruptly twisting the sting of disappointment into the pleasure of a nice surprise, but mostly what he felt was confusion.

“Okay,” he said, scowling a little, “what’s the problem, then?”

Jiang Cheng looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “That is the problem! It’s one thing entirely to make an agreeable business decision with someone you like well enough, friends can do anything, but it’s not exactly the sort of feeling you get for friends.”

“We’re…going to be married, though?”

“Yes! Exactly! Feelings in a marriage lead to jealousy, jealousy leads to stupid irrational behavior, which leads to resentment, which poisons the entire relationship –”

“A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue said, feeling as though he might be allowed. “Marriages are supposed to cultivate feelings.”

Jiang Cheng frowned.

“Not everyone is your parents. Most people, in fact. You reach an agreement with someone you respect, you marry, you put in the work necessary to turn that respect into feelings you can use to base a lifetime together on – what do you think all that practice we’ve been doing is the foundation for?”

“But…”

“Jealousy doesn’t necessarily lead to resentment,” Nie Mingjue explained. “As long as the feelings are reciprocated, a little jealousy can be – not a problem.”

Sometimes very much not a problem, not that Nie Mingjue personally suffered from that taste.

(He was not going to explain the details of his own parents’ relationship, however useful an example it might be in this context. If Jiang Cheng wanted an explanation of how people could end up eroticizing jealousy and sexual possessiveness to the point that watching their beloved implicitly reject them in favor of another went from being distressing to exciting, he could ask Nie Huaisang about it.)

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng said, and looked relieved.

He wasn’t the only one.

“How did this come up, anyway?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“Oh, I was reading a book,” Jiang Cheng said, and for some reason he flushed a little. “It depicted a romance that reminded me of how you and I interact, and my feelings on the subject, and, well…”

“What book?”

Jiang Cheng pulled the book out of his sleeve – it was one of Nie Huaisang’s favorite romance novels, Nie Mingjue could identify it on sight based on how many times he’d seen his brother flipping through it and sighing – and tried to offer it over, only when he did another book that had somehow gotten stuck up to the back of the first one fell down to the floor, landing on its spine and falling open.

The page it fell open to was illustrated. Vividly.

There was a moment in which they both stared down at it.

Nie Mingjue pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, and Jiang Cheng turned beet red and leapt to his feet and started stammering something about making a study guide to avoid embarrassing himself and not to pay any attention to it and anyway it was all Nie Huaisang’s fault – Nie Mingjue believed that one immediately – and anyway the only reason it’d fallen to that particular page was because he was convinced that it wasn’t even possible –

“No, that one’s possible,” Nie Mingjue said, standing up as well. “You just need support – look, see, if I lift you up against the wall like this –”

He demonstrated.

“– and you put your legs like so, it all works out just fine. Entirely plausible.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth was slightly agape, his breath coming a bit quickly; his cheeks were still a lovely shade of pink, and Nie Mingjue could tell fairly easily that Jiang Cheng’s attempted explanation about the reason he had been lingering on that particular page was a lie.

“Oh,” he said, “and I like you, too. Just so you know.”

Jiang Cheng smiled.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics #getting bored #mingcheng

260 notes · View notes

scrawnytreedemon · 3 years

Text

Neurodivergency, and Sephiroth

Right, I’m going to see if I can try and explain why this reading appeals to me.

For some background, I’ve watched a full silent LP of the OG, watched Advent Children, and am largely familiar with his characterisation in Crisis Core(though it gets a bit patchy in some areas). I am not familiar with his characterisation in KH, Dissida, or any other spinoff appearances.

I’m going to be looking at this with an autistic lens, as, hey, I’m autistic, however much of these patterns aren’t exclusive to autistic people by any means and thus are fairly applicable to other labels.

This is an explanaition on why I find this element worth considering, and while I hope that others can relate or take away something from this, in many ways it is highly personal and not intended to be a decleration on Sephiroth’s ‘true nature,’ as it were. I’m not claiming that this was intended by the writers-- Infact, I’d be very surprised if they considered it, at all --As many of the traits he exhibits could be brushed aside as due to his upbringing.

That being said, let’s get into it!

1. Alienation

A common thread in neurodivergency, autism in particular, is some form of alienation. This doesn’t necessarily mean being outcast-- I, for one, have been largely accepted by those around me, and yet there is still that sense of being ‘other‘ that’s always been there, long before I even had a word for it.

Now, of course, in Sephiroth this is more related to his lineage, and how it’s expressed in... well, everything. Even still, I find value in expanding that, and considering just how getting the sense you’re implicitly divided from your peers.

There is, of course, the matter of Sephiroth’s literal isolation-- However, as fun as those scenarios are to play around with, I don’t think Sephiroth was raised wholly, or even mostly in the labs. The reason being that it would be nigh impossible to have hid just what made Sephiroth different, especially knowing how observant he is. It’s clear that Sephiroth had had extensive contact with other children, as epitomised by the line:

“I knew ever since I was a child, I was not like the others. I knew mine was a special existence. But this is not what I meant!”

Sephiroth was painfully aware that he is different, even if he didn’t know exactly how. It is at once an oddly thrilling, and lonely sensation. Thrilling, because-- Hey! --You can do and see things others can’t and/or wouldn’t; and lonely, because it makes it hard to relate to others or have them relate to you.

2. Socialisation

I would like to start off by saying that, while I find it a tad more faithful and endlessly less grating than Sex God Sephiroth, Sephiroth is not a complete and utter social failure. While it’s clear he has difficulty articulating emotions and understanding others, it’s very clear even still that he knows how the game works, and knows how to play it.

This is going to dip far more into speculation territory, so buckle up.

A thing that, perhaps, I don’t see talked about often enough online when it comes to neurodivergent experiences, is that many things that are considered ‘normal‘ get experienced as systems that we need to actively learn and maneuver-- Socialisation especially!

Now, of course there is always some degree of social interaction being a give and take, a step forth and step back, regardless of neurotype, but it’s dialed up far more when you deviate from ‘the norm.‘

If I can give my own example, a thing I struggled with when I was little was humour! Not because I didn’t find things funny, or didn’t know what it was, but because I had issues grasping at the machinations of what made something funny. This lead to alot of nonsensical jokes that left my siblings confounded, until I picked up a joke-book, and started analysing from there. It was mostly alot of puns, which! Due to their simple structure, are a great way to learn the basics! I didn’t even know this was unusual, until my mother pointed it out to me years later.

And that method goes for alot of things.

Sephiroth, above all else, is observant. He makes efforts multiple times throughout the OG and Crisis Core to check up on others and ask how they’re doing. He asks Cloud how he feels returning to his hometown, and about seeing his mother, and urges Zack to check up on Aerith in Crisis Core, to name some notable examples. Even if you get the sense that his attempts are, perhaps, a little ungainly, it makes it clear more than anything that Sephiroth tries.

I think the reason that people have leaned alot more into the overly-awkward perception of Sephiroth in recent times, is because it humanises him. I feel there’s been far more of a shift within fandom to focus on the mundane, on relatability, on humanity. A veneer of endless, effortless confidence really isn’t that sexy anymore-- When sexual-appeal even comes into the matter, at all.

That being said, this section more than anything, I think, is very easy to brush aside due to his... interesting upbringing. Depending on how you construe the timeline, Sephiroth got sent to war as early as twelve, and wouldn’t have had much of an oppurtnity to develop these skills in a healthy and timely manner.

Even without that, a degree of social awkwardness is far from exclusive to any particular neurotype-- It’s the way it arises in him, though, that piques my interest.

3. Analysis and Obsession

This... I think, is the one where I’ll be grasping at straws the most.

While, yes, the obsessive research demonstrated in the OG during the Nibelheim incident and even before that to a lesser extent in Crisis Core could be some indication of a degree to absolutely immerse yourself in a subject in that Very Autistic WayTM, more than anything these are brought on by dire circumstance(the former especially by the question of his very humanity), and as we don’t see Sephiroth as a child, it’s uncertain as to whether he displayed these behaviours as such and to this degree under ‘normal‘ circumstances.

Even so, I get the feeling that Sephiroth is very analytically-minded, in a very Stranger In A Strange World sort of way(not in any way referring to the 1961 novel by a similar name, lmao). I get the feeling he’s the type of person to pick up some highly-esoteric text just for fun and come away with a menagerie of strange and unusual and obscenely specific factoids that he’ll remember for the rest of his life.

Like, someone might mention a topic offhandedly, and though he’d keep his mouth shut because He’s Like ThatTM, a slew of all the little bits and pieces he’s seen or read on the matter over the years would just jump to mind.

What I’m trying to say is, I think Sephiroth would take joy in painstakingly pouring and mulling over topics that not many people would have the consideration nor the mind to hold any long-term, inimate interest in.

If the last point was easily brushed aside, then this one you’d merely have to breathe and it’d fall apart. Nonetheless, I feel that within fandom’s current common framework with how we perceive Sephiroth, this wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.

I, however, want to make it clear that I can see the issue with labelling Sephiroth as neurodivergent. He could all too easily fall into the cliché of cold, emotionally and socially-inept, often rather callous depictions we see all too often in the heavily-neurotypical media that sees us as Missing Something; less than. Things have gotten better, but even still, there’s such a tendency to flatten us down to the things we can’t do, or lawd as us Potential Einsteins in spite of it-- Which, just, while it happens, on the whole it isn’t very helpful or realistic to expect this from us.

We are by no means a monolith, and while I take comfort in the idea of a neurodivergent Sephiroth, I understand that for some, it can feel like taking on a label to a character that vaguely fits the stereotype, and thus, perhaps, insinuating that to be autistic you have to look Like That-- And when it comes to villains in particular, it’s all too easy to dip into demonisation.

This isn’t even getting onto some of the issues that’d have this fall apart, were we to look at other symptoms. The first that comes to mind, and one that even I, as innocuous as I am, experience: sensory overload.

While it is entirely possible that Sephiroth learned to deal with it accordingly in life, or was forced to surpress it, because Shinra’s Science Department(cough cough Hojo) has been shown time and time again to force its subjects into little boxes and blame them for any failures expressed, the fact is that such a symptom could make fighting on the battlefield downright impossible.

Again, this is something that could’ve been given a ‘solution‘(as much as you can or even should think about long-term surpressing your basic thresholds), it nonetheless remains an issue.

I just hope that, on the whole, this served as some food for thought.

TL;DR: Sephiroth is autistic because I Vibe With It.

Also, happy Disability Pride!

#ffvii #sephiroth #character analysis #theory #scrawny speaks #ff7 #autism #neurodivergency #scrawny draws

61 notes · View notes

stargazer-sims · 2 years

Text

- thirty-seven -

To say he's upset, Cam Abbottsford concludes, would be a massive understatement. He's exhausted, stressed and confused, and all he wants to do is get to his son, but right now he's stuck at the airport, halfway between Kyoto and Mt. Komorebi, desperately searching the internet for addresses. Fox hadn't been able to tell him the address of the hospital. He only knew it was called Mt. Komorebi Medical Center. He'd obviously not been able to help with accommodations, either. Cam is on his own when it comes to figuring out where he’s going to stay.

He’s been in transit since yesterday, and he thinks he’s been on at least four different planes. The events of the past thirty-six hours are all running together in his mind now, so he’s not entirely sure. From the moment Fox called him yesterday morning, he’s been feeling as if he’s just moments away from panic. The only thing keeping him together is the knowledge that Fox needs him.

Cam wishes his wife were here with him. He hadn’t wanted to travel alone, but he’s the only one in the family who could leave their job on such short notice. One of the advantages of being a partner in his engineering firm, he supposes, is that he’s essentially his own boss and can come and go as necessary. Violet, on the other hand, is the head chef at a hotel, and it’s not as if she can drop everything during one of the biggest festive gathering seasons of the year.

He’s unhappy about the circumstances, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s just going to have to handle everything the best way he can without his spouse by his side. He's not the greatest in a crisis, but he's always found a way to do what he needs to do for his kids regardless of his own doubts and fears.

He's rarely had to manage completely on his own, but he pep-talks himself into believing he can. He's here for his boy, after all. Because of his son, there are quite a lot of things he'd previously thought he couldn't cope with, which he now takes with an equanimity that would have shocked his younger self.

Needles, he thinks, with equal parts incredulity and amusement. He recalls learning how to prepare and administer an insulin injection for Fox. It'd all seemed very straightforward and clinical in the parent support session at the children's hospital, but the first time he actually had to poke his six year old son with a needle, he'd literally wept. The nurse who'd been supervising him had her hands full trying to settle both him and Fox, who was even more scared than he should have been, because Daddy was crying. Learning how to check Fox's blood sugar had been equally traumatic for them, and there were moments when Cam wondered how they'd all survive it.

The first few weeks after Fox's diagnosis had been rough, but Fox and Cam had both gotten used to all the necessary procedures, and soon enough they became routine. It became so normal for them, in fact, that when Fox was old enough to start managing his treatment himself, he still wanted his father to do it. Even now, there are times when Fox wants him to help, and as far as Cam knows, he's the only person other than Fox himself who can give Fox an injection without causing a minor drama.

We handled that. We can handle this, too, he reassures himself.

He tells himself that the current situation could be much more serious than it is. Fox could’ve been gravely hurt and unable to contact his family himself. While it had been heart-wrenching to hear his son crying on the phone from thousands of kilometers away, Cam doesn’t even want to imagine what it would’ve been like to receive a call from a stranger, telling him that Fox was critically injured, or worse.

Cam understands that a dislocated ankle isn't exactly minor, and he knows the risks of surgery for someone with Fox’s particular health challenges, but he's grateful that it's not a spinal fracture or brain injury or something equally as life-altering. Fox will be fine, given time. As soon as he's able to travel, Cam will bring him home where everyone in the family can help look after him, and where he can get access to physical therapy, therapeutic massage, counselling, and anything else he might require. And there'll be no more international travelling. Not if Cam has anything to say about it, at least, and he's positive Violet will agree.

Violet hadn't wanted Fox to leave home in the first place. She'd said he wouldn't be able to take care of himself, that something terrible was likely to happen, and she'd been right. Fox has been here for just a little over three months, nowhere near the year he'd anticipated, and something terrible has already happened. Cam pictures Violet's disappointed 'I told you so' look. She'd never say that out loud to Fox, of course, but he's sure to get the message anyway.

Cam hopes this experience will be enough to keep Fox from getting any more ideas about wandering off to parts unknown without supervision. If he wants freedom and independence, he can find it in Newcrest or one of the nearby towns like Willow Creek, where there'll always be a support system for him. He doesn't have to circle the globe to 'discover himself', as he'd told his parents.

At last, Cam finds the address of the hospital. It’s a relief, but only a small one, since his next big hurdle will be in trying to either rent a car or hire a cab to take him from the airport to Mt. Komorebi. He’d much rather rent a car, since he’ll need to be able to get around town.

Scanning his surroundings for anything that looks familiar, he spots the logo for an internationally-recognized car rental company on a large sign. He can’t read anything on the sign except for the company name, but there’s an arrow, so he decides to take a chance and follow it.

He gets a firm grip on the handle of his suitcase, and starts walking. Someone had once told him to walk with confidence, even if he had no idea where he was going. He takes that advice now, striding through the airport as if he’s completely sure of himself. Inwardly, however, he’s trying not to panic and praying to the Watcher that someone at the car rental kiosk knows how to speak English.

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #snowy escape #Cam Abbottsford #winterflowers #stargazersims

17 notes · View notes

embertarot · 2 years

Text

✨ Surprise Reading: 1/28/22

Six of Cups ✧ Grateful ✧ Two of Wands ✧ Modify ✧ Ace of Pentacles ✧ Respect

(Striked text means the card is in reverse.) (Full Res) (Tarot Close-up) It's been a while!! I could write a whole miniature novel here about how happy I am to be back, but this return reading ended up a little lengthy, so let's just get into it, shall we? But first, something new~

Meditate on these songs for this reading:

Vibrant ✦ Souvenirs ✦ In Between

Not a single one of us comes out of this life unscathed. Everywhere you look, everyone you look towards—whether it's at eye level, or your gaze is fixed above or below you—All of us have been wounded, at one point or another, and another, and another. We have all known the sting of a cut, when it's fresh and bleeding. We've all known the stubbornness of a scar that won't fade, raised and rough atop the skin. Sometimes it hurts on it's own naturally as the body begins to heal. Sometimes just the very reminder of the infliction when we look at it brings pain to surface once more.

We start with the Six of Cups. Upright, this is a card representing the innocence and joy most often associated with children, as well as looking back towards the past, often with a fondness. We all have things from our childhood we treasure and hold dear. Likewise, there are some not-so-nice memories buried in between those, too. Words said, choices and actions made, things that hurt you, or caused pain in another. Some of us have been hurt more deeply, or more often, but regardless of your life circumstances or how good you feel you had it: Not a single one of us comes out of this life unscathed. We all have trauma.

Reversed, this card implies looking back on the past in pain, with sorrow, regret, a sense of loss. We may find ourselves living within it's confines rather than in the present. This may be in the sense that we're simply ruminating on pain felt and dealt, or in some cases, it could be an indicator that our beliefs and our behavior are still being heavily influenced by our past, whether we realize it or not. The wound may have healed, but so have the nerve endings. Sometimes we think we've completely moved on, when in fact, there's more going on beneath the surface than we could possibly know with just sight alone.

This may be associated specifically with an event, or multiple events, that occurred within childhood or adolescence. This may reference a moment in your life where you felt your joy and or innocence were taken from you, with age not necessarily a factor. If you've been fixated on a more recent event from your past, it's likely that pain is not completely isolated, rather a new incision was made across an old scar you maybe haven't thought about in years.

The past is important. At times, it shapes us more than both the present and the future combined. Everything we are and everything we ever will be is influenced by what will one day be behind us, so it's natural that we look over our shoulders every once in a while. The problem is when we stop looking ahead, at what's in front of us. It can be easy to get lost, to hit a wall, to get stuck on what could have been or should have been, but it's important that we find a way to appreciate where we are now; that we learn to be grateful for what we have or what we've learned through all of our experiences: the good, the bad, and the somewhere in between.

That brings us to the Two of Wands. A man stands facing the horizon, holding the world in the palm of his hand. Looking out at the vast expanse before him, atop his perch towering above the landscape, he can see all that lies ahead and all that's come before, allowing him to thoughtfully plot out his path forward. When we remain stuck in our past, in our hurt, we drown ourselves in details. We lose sight of what we could learn, what we gained, the progress we've made from that point on, the bigger picture. Sometimes, we even lose sight of what about an experience actually hurt us in the first place, rendering the healing process much more difficult. How are you supposed to treat a wound when you don't even know where it is?

While stumbling in the shadows—often blind—isn't a particularly elegant or pain-free process, it's in some of our darkest moments that we see the light clearly, in our world and in ourselves. Every mistake made is an opportunity to correct our course and re-align. Every time we find we're at rock bottom, we witness our strength, resilience, and power as we scale upwards and out. Through some of the most painful losses, we learn lessons about what really matters most in life, and what exactly we desire out of it, so long as we remain open to the message. Pain is a part of life. It's inevitable, in some form or another, at some point or another. It's only meaningless if we make it so.

Perspective is everything. The past is important to reflect on, but we must make sure we're looking through a lens that leaves us feeling empowered rather than powerless. This is where modification comes in. It is more than okay to mourn and to grieve, especially when we realize we never did. In fact, two in numerology represents nurturing and compassion, and is associated with the moon, which itself is connected to our emotions and the subconscious. Facing the past and the feelings that come with it can be an immense act of bravery and self-love. It's when we find ourselves spiraling in the darkness—when we lose sight of what we have, what we've become, and what we can become—that the world at our fingertips begins to slip away. If you find yourself struggling with your current mindset, you may get frustrated, but it is vital you look at yourself through a lens of kindness. That is the first step to take if you feel overwhelmed.

Nurturing the inner child is a theme coming through. Whatever the issue may be, it is likely impacting material matters the most right now. Perhaps you find it hard to care for your health when you struggle with self-loathing, or you're so busy trying to prove yourself chasing success you don't take enough time for wellness. Maybe a seed was planted in your head that you couldn't possibly live alone or handle your money. Diving deeper, as you become more aware of specific events, it is important to actively reframe whatever you may have internalized from them. Try honing in on single sets of words and actions that hurt you and ask why, rather than just looking at the event generally. If you're torn over something you did to someone else, focus on what you feel your mistake says about you, and politely question whether that judgement is fair or not. Awareness is the first step, and from there, healing can begin. If you were made to feel worthless, or broken, it's time to challenge that notion in the same way you'd comfort a child or someone else you love. Start with a healthy dialogue with yourself when these feelings come up. It's time to offer yourself the respect you've always deserved.

It's through this self-respect and self-love that we will find our way to our perch, looking out over the landscape with pride and possibility. There, the Ace of Pentacles can come into play. All aces represent a seed; an opportunity with the chance to grow and blossom, but with the caveat that it must be actively tended to. There is no guarantees in the future so long as we remain rooted in the past, but if you can start to break this cycle, and turn around the messages and limiting beliefs that linger from yesterday, a sense of stability is yours. You will find more success in the material matters in your life, such as finances, environment, and health. You will find security, inside and out, replacing what may have once felt lost. The clouds will clear, the sun will shine again, and you will breathe a breath a fresh air as you look out towards a wider, brighter horizon.

If this reading resonated with you or you otherwise enjoy my work, and you'd like to support your local disabled mystic, you can do so by leaving me a tip over on my Ko-fi, if you're able and feel called to do so! I also have a wishlist if you'd like to buy me more decks & tools to use in my readings, and another for helping me manage my life better in my current environment. Any and all support is greatly appreciated! 💜

#tarot readings #tarot #witchblr

11 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD OFFICIAL VISUAL FANBOOK ー Interview Vol. 1 feat. Saki Ito

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD Official Visual Fanbook

Release date: 2013

Huge thank you to @keithvalentinex for providing the raw scans!

SECTION 1: Q&A

Q1. How did you feel when a sequel game got green light?

A: Not only were we fortunate to receive many passionate messages and feedback from the players, but we also received the news of an anime adaption alongside a game sequel, so amidst the joy, I also remember a distinct feeling of responsiblity and pressure.

Q2. Does the feedback you received from the players reflect in any parts of the game?

A: The series features characters who all have very strong and distinct character traits, so they tend to stand out based solely on these specific elements, which is what made us reflect upon the scenario parts of the previous game. Therefore, in the sequel, we decided to flesh them out so we let Idea Factory know that we would like to create sceranio’s on events of their pasts, so we can give a better understanding of how they think as individuals. We received a positive response but this ultimately required quite a bit of scenarios so later both me and Nakamura suffered because of it. (lol) However, even though there is still room for improvement, I would like to think that we succeeded in creating scenario’s in which the players will get to know them on a deeper level.

Q3. Who did you struggle most with when creating the setting for the new characters?

A: Ruki. Both in terms of design and personality. At first we thought of having him be on an almost equal footing with Karlheinz in terms of power and status, so basically the character who stands at the very top of the Mukami family, with everyone following his lead as they have no other choice but to acknowledge his superiority . But he’s a Do-S...We played with various ideas like that.

Q4. What did the process of creating these characters look like?

A: After settling on their visuals and personalities, we moved on to building a set image of them. I was impressed that at the time of initial recording where we would add the voices to these characters, there was already an agreement amongst the production staff about how they viewed these brothers inside their minds.

Q5. Were there any moments during the recording which left a strong impression on you?

A: I am sure everyone feels the same in this regard, but I was very much impressed by Midorikawa Hikaru (Ayato’s VA) and his ability to voice a single line in so many different ways and apply minor adjustment time after time. I was baffled how the same phrase could be voiced in so many different ways, and while this may be embarrassing to admit as part of the production staff, I felt as if I could learn a lot from him.

Q6. How did you approach the blood-sucking scenes?

A: We start by creating a fixed image inside our heads of how each character would suck someone’s blood. However, we initially opted to leave things up to the casted voice actors. We figured that if their voicing was somewhat off from how we envisioned it, we would guide them into the desired direction afterwards, but so far that has yet to happen! The voice actors seem to understand that the blood-sucking scenes are a huge selling point of the Diabolik Lovers franchise, so they anticipated on this and had already thought about which personal quirks they want to include in these scenes before the recording. Afterwards they would tell us things such as ‘I wanted to make it sound a little dirty’ or ‘I imagined ____ would suck blood like this’, showing us their effort to voice these characters while thinking about their personalities, which is why we - the production staff - were able to feel the unique traits of these boys through their performance as well, I believe. I cannot express with words just how greatful I am for everyone’s excellent voice work.

Q7. When writing the scenario’s and the character dialogue, were there any conscious changes you made from the first game?

A: In the first game, there were very little interactions between the different characters, but with the introduction of the Mukami brothers, we focused on these kind of interactions where one of the Sakamaki brothers would fight with one of the Mukami brothers. Additionally, this would allow for us to express the changes in their feelings towards the main character.

Q8. What did you struggle the most with while writing the script?

A: There were just so many different scenarios to write, I recall feeling as if there was no end to it. Every time you think you’re done adjusting one part, you have to move on to the next and by the time you’re done with that, something just doesn’t feel right about the first scenario again...This game includes many scenarios about the characters’ pasts so there would be times where we suddenly went ‘...Hold on!? I feel like the previous scene doesn’t quite make sense anymore...,’ So we’d have to go back and make sure everything remained consistent.

Q9. Which character caused you the most problems while writing the script?

A: Every single one. In case of the Sakamaki brothers, all because of the same reason. For starters, despite this being a sequel game, the intial setting remains the same as before with the main character having arrived at the Sakamaki manor, , so we were worried whether or not the audience would accept this without it feeling weird or off. The Mukami brothers are then added on top of that, so we struggled a lot expressing the wavering feelings of the main character. Each of the Mukami brothers has their own dark past and setting which we came up with beforehand, so it was very difficult to then later add the element of romance to this.

Q10. Is there a character who underwent drastic changes compared to the last game?

A: No. Although the ‘MORE, BLOOD’ games feature the Sakamaki brothers struggling with an immense ‘thirst for blood’ which is different from our previous approach, so we hope this allows the players to enjoy a different side of them.

Q11. The endings are now named ‘Vampire Ending’, ‘Manservant Ending’ and ‘Brute’ Ending. Could you tell us what kind of thought you put into these names?

A: They do each have their own fixed image attached to them. We divided them into the ‘Vampire Ending’ which is supposed to be the most natural ending. The ‘Manservant Ending’ which emphasizes the element of sadism the strongest and lastly the ‘Brute Ending’ which is the most violent. Depending on the character, there might be minor changes such as the main character developing sadistic tendencies herself or it being another character who grows violent. We hope the audience will enjoy this wide array of endings.

Q12. What are parts which have greatly improved or parts you want us to focus on in comparison to the first game?

A: My apologies for repeating myself, but it would have to be the scenarios. Also please pay attention to the upgraded sprite artwork for everyone, as well as the addition of the sprites for the brothers as children!

Q13. Why do you think the series has received such a great amount of support?

A: During the development of the first set of CDs, we made them with a specific niche audience in mind, so never did we expect the franchise would grow this large. We truly are grateful. We would like to believe that Satoi-sama’s illustration are the biggest contributor in this case. I was already acquaintanced with Satoi-sama at that point but due to certain circumstances, we weren’t able to work on a project together. However, when the development for Diabolik Lovers started, I immediately reached out to her. I believe that the way she draws these Do-S Vampires as handsome guys is what the fans enjoy the most!

Q14. Please leave a message for the fans.

A: First of all, thank you all from the bottom of my heart. If it wasn’t for you guys’ reactions, we wouldn’t have been able to deliver this much content. I won’t go as far as to tell you to continue to loving ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS’ and its characters forever...! Even if it’s somewhere in the very back of your mind, I’d be happy if you could at least hold onto the fond memories of these characters. Honestly, thank you so so much.

SECTION 2: THEIR FAVORITE EPISODES

Sakamaki brothers: Laito’s Vampire Ending. It conveys that feeling of loving someone, yet still keeping you on the edge of your seat as he doesn’t quite fully want to admit to his own feelings, even though you can tell that he does properly love the main character, which made me feel joyful inside.

Mukami brothers: Rather than one specific scene, I loved the interactions between the Mukami brothers. When they are all enjoying a meal together, they would fight over the food, or Kou would make a fuss because he wants to eat Vongole Bianco. I found it cute how they would talk in a way you’d expect from normal high school boys.

SECTION 3: SAKI ITO CHOOSES ー SITUATION-DEPENDENT CHARACTER SELECT

Who would you choose in these situations? What’s the developer’s opinion?

S1. To sleep together with?

Best: Shuu, he probably wouldn’t bother me.

Worst: Reiji, he seems like the type to get upset if you don’t keep perfectly still while sleeping.

S2. To go on a trip together with?

Best: Ruki, I feel like he would come fully prepped.

Worst: Azusa, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my trip if I get hurt because of him.

S3. To eat together with?

Best: Shuu, I feel like our eating styles would match.

Worst: Reiji, I’d constantly feel nervous.

S4. To study with?

Best: Ruki, I feel like he’d be able to explain things in a comprehensive manner.

Worst: Laito because he might just blow air into my ear all of a sudden.

S5. To go on a date with?

Best: Kou, he probably knows all the good places so it could be fun.

Worst: Kanato, I can’t stand the thought of him suddenly lashing out at me.

S6. To play a video game with?

Best: Yuma, I feel like he wouldn’t be the best at it, but it’d still be enjoyable regardless.

Worst: Subaru, he would destroy the console!

S7. To play sports with?

Best: Kou, I can imagine his sweat sparkling in the light as it bounces off him.

Worst: Reiji, he seems stiff.

S8. To go on a drive with?

Best: Ayato, it just seems fun.

Worst: Yuma, he strikes me as a speed devil.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers more blood official visual fanbook #diabolik lovers interview #saki ito

89 notes · View notes

bowandcurtsey · 3 years

Note

Ok so…

I just wanted to say, regarding your response to the BC boys and S/O having a miscarriage angst. ask earlier this morning… I just wanted to say I think you did a nice job evoking the different aspects from not just BC boys but also the wives’ perspectives in each different way something went wrong.

Every scenario was different in approach/contribution to the inevitable miscarriage and yet the reaction on the wives part were all still different and similar in interesting ways.

Julius wife = still born = as if wife’s soul died along with the baby.

Nozel wife = freak accident = she blames herself and relentlessly apologizes, not just heartbroken herself but feeling guilty that her mistake cost her baby their life and how much her mistake must’ve destroyed the love of her life.

Fuegoleon = the classic ‘caught between rock and a hard place’ but on steroids… how does he choose between the life of his child and his beloved? He ultimately chooses his beloved = wife is not only heartbroken along with him but part of her blames him even if she understands his rationality… Fue is a magic knight captain, he’s had to convince himself countless times that every decision he’s ever made in battle was for the good of Clover, his squad, or his family… he’s grateful that God at least kept his beloved in his arms… but even if not regretful of his decision he may not ever be able to convince himself he had the right to play God in this matter… he just prays to hold her tight and let her heal; this travesty is his burden and his alone (or so he might feel)

William’s wife = earnestly intervening in confrontation on the behalf of another that lead to confrontation becoming physical, it all happening so fast before he had time to comprehend what happened in front of him just now = wife not only heartbroken along with him, but similar to Fue, Williams circumstances add up to him blaming himself for not preventing her from getting hurt, he should’ve been more aware of what she was doing on the old woman’s behalf and he should’ve been the one to step in… his obliviousness cost you both so greatly and there wasn’t anything he could do to fix that, he might tell himself. (I can even see him, after his wife being shoved, picking her up in his arms and rushing to the hospital or something while desperately attempting to form a branch from his Budding of Yggdrasil spell around her abdomen where her womb would be in hopes that nothing had happened to the baby… the fact that this desperate attempt didn’t work would only contribute to his self-blame that he has to swallow and save-face so that he can be strong for her)

I only just now noticed how my descriptions of the situations got longer every time I went to the next character… that was unintended.

Personally I wasn’t supposed to be able to happen, my mom wasn’t supposed to be able to have me… due to an ectopic pregnancy she was told after it was removed that she’d almost certainly never be able to have children. She met my dad some years later and one one night at dinner he told her he wanted a baby and she felt it was pointless but didn’t want to argue. The next morning he confidently stated she was pregnant and she thought he was full of it… until some weeks later she called him to tell him he was right and he fell out of his chair like “holy crap, I was right?!?🤩” So my point is, I appreciate whenever writers can, at the same time both simplistically and impactfully in a just a few sentences capture just how much these situations take from a husband and wife both individually and mutually, both depending-on and regardless of circumstance… really I just wanted to applaud you on your approach to this concept. Very nice job

TW: miscarriage

Okay so I read this in the morning.. and I was kinda overwhelmed with emotions like.. thank you for loving this so much?

I'm rly glad you liked the style to it. (இдஇ; )

And I appreciate all your long evaluations (?) to each of the scenarios. I was worried because I have never experienced this (and I hope I will never have to,) so I could only imagine what I would feel like and how the characters would respond.

But thank you for loving it and giving your compliments (｡ﾉω＼｡)

#tw: miscarriage #aine's lovely bbys

10 notes · View notes

mxpseudonym · 4 years

Note

Helloo! Can I request a one-shot, or anything that you think will be suitable for this, where Tommy's wife of 2 yrs, in an arranged marraige, gave birth to twins 2-3 months ago, and it was a complicated scenario but Tommy realised he loved her when he almost lost her in the process, and now she's fully recovered and they're finally having sex again for the first time after that and Tommy tells her he loves her while doing it. Ignore this if this is stupid 🙈 Thank you <3

Pairing: Tommy x Oc-ish/reader if you don’t mind a little characterization

Warnings: Non-gory labor descriptions and a little spicy behavior

A/N: I hope you like it! You’ll have to let me know, nonnie 💕

It had been a while since Tommy cried. He and his wife weren't the types, both having a steel-like composure through the worst of things. But in the blinding white hospital hallway, he couldn't help the tears that escaped. A stressful pregnancy and long labor led to hemorrhaging that was terrifying to endure though the midwife anticipated it. Hours later, he still hadn't seen her. In any case, Tommy figured now was the time. If anything were to happen, he had two daughters to be strong for.

"Mr. Shelby?" The doctor's voice broke him out of his dark thoughts.

"Is she alright?"

"She's lost quite a bit of blood, and I won't lie, we almost lost her. But Mrs. Shelby is a strong woman, isn't she? She's alive and well and ready to see you, sir."

Inside the hospital room, she was propped up against her pillows, a cup of water in hand as she looked out the window. When they entered, she greeted them with a smile Tommy thought he'd never see again. He had always liked Alice, but the deep reverence he had for her was apparent when he saw her bright and breathing after so much uncertainty. The moment the doctor left, she reached her hand out to Tommy, who was by her side in a moment.

"Scared the life right fuckin' out of me, love. I thought I'd lost you."

He pressed his forehead against hers, which, though the circumstances were strained, she found it strange. It was the 1920's, and yet marriages could still merge companies like they used to unite countries. Luckily, the union wasn't strained in the slightest. There were more passionate couples out there, that was for sure, but she and Tommy were, in a word, compatible. Friends who shared each other's bed was a happy balance they'd found. Displays of affection like this weren't common amongst them at all. Still, she nodded and kissed his cheek.

"I'm okay, I promise. How are the babies?"

"The babies are healthy and beautiful. They've got your eyes and your nose. Polly says they'll have a Shelby head of hair, both of 'em. They've got strong lungs too," he told her. Alice looked down at their joined hands. What had gotten into him?

That sentiment continued. Even as the babies kept them awake and occupied all of their free time, Alice still had time to notice the difference in Tommy. Where sharing meals used to be out of sheer coincidence, Tommy now made sure to be at breakfast or lunch. Even when they were still sleeping, Tommy kissed Alice and the twins goodbye every day. If she needed anything at all, Tommy didn't let her lift a finger. Incredible A week didn't go by where Alice didn't wonder about Tommy's change.

It took three months for Alice to finally get a chance to ask about it. One of the maids worked their magic and had the girls sleeping through the night, and Tommy was home early and in bed with her. Apparently, Tommy had recognized the circumstances as well and had his own plans.

"Tommy!" She gasped as he kissed down her body.

"I've missed hearing you say my name just like that," he said with his lips pressed into her inner thigh. John and Esme were prime examples that things didn't have to stop just because you were pregnant. But with two babies and daily body aches, being pushed against a wall was out of the question. He was all over her, sending her over the edge quickly after months of not being touched this way. And when he was finally inside of her, it was a godsend.

"You've been so good to me lately," Alice breathed into his ear, her fingers sliding into his hair as he moved.

"Because I'm grateful to have such a beautiful, strong, and powerful wife standing by me. The mother of my children, a goddess," Tommy spoke while kissing down her neck. Alice gripped him harder, her legs tightening around his waist at the words. They were a bit of a surprise and not inherently sexual, but her thighs tightened around his waist regardless. His hand reached between them to the apex of her thighs.

"Tommy," She gasped again, her eyes squeezing shut and her nails digging into his shoulders.

"Brilliant and cunning, and that's why I love you. I love you."

"Oh, god!" Waves of pleasure washed over her, and she bit into Tommy's shoulder to quiet her deep, high-pitched moan. The sight of her nose scrunched, and jaw slackened, and the slight pain sent Tommy over the edge as well.

"What did you say?" Alice panted, looking up at him. Tommy held himself up with one arm, hovering over her as he used the other to cup her face.

"I love you, Mrs. Shelby, and I'm going to show you as much as I can. At least once more tonight, anyway.

#Tommy Shelby has feelings y'all #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby one shot #Tommy Shelby fan fic #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders Imagine #tommy x reader #tommy x oc #request fulfilled!#Mail Time

124 notes · View notes

planetsam · 4 years

Text

I watched Cursed and being 1000% trash we all know who I was fascinated by (it’s The Weeping Monk). Then this happened. Coda to the final episode so spoilers abound.

Also on Ao3 The Green

Pain is an old friend.

Still, he’s never had horse riding hurt quite this much.

There is also a good chance he forgot his sword, but the idea of checking is exhausting. And if he lets go of his charge or the reins, he’s not sure that he can pick either up again. The boy is quiet for which he’s grateful, he’s not a conversationalist under the best of circumstances and these are anything but.

“It’s getting dark,” the boy pipes up. He blinks and realizes so it is, he thought his vision was fading, “we should stop.”

“We cannot,” he says.

“The horse is tired.”

Not for the first time in the past few days, he wonders why God is testing him like this. If he’s being kept alive as penance, if this is punishment or opportunity. He’s forgotten the difference in the unending wave of pain, but he supposes it doesn’t matter now. Besides if he dies and the horse dies, all this will have been for nothing. If the horse survives the boy at least has a chance. He grunts and ignores the new patch of wet that spreads. He turns the steed off the path, at the very least there’s trees and water nearby. It’s not much but it will do.

Getting off the horse hurts worse.

He grips the saddle and takes a deep breath, fighting back the wave of pain and nausea that blackens his vision. Morbidly he wonders if Gawain is happy that the Ash people will be gone from this continent again, but the thought comes back to him that he isn’t. Wherever he is. He’s good at seeing a lie, he knows those words about brotherhood were the truth. There’s a tug on his cloak and he looks to see his charge has gotten off the horse on his own. The fact that he didn’t hear him, well that’s another sign that this is about to end.

“There’s water this way,” the boy tells him, “lean on the horse.”

“Are you always this clever?” He asks.

The boy shrugs and he smiles at his ego. He’s unafraid, it’s not something he’s used to seeing from the Fey. Especially one so young. He leans on the horse as they make their way the last few steps to the stream. He lets the horse go and covers his hand as he uses the tree to ease himself down.

The action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What happens if you touch the forrest?”

“I don’t do that,” he says.

“But what happens if you do?”

He peers upwards. The dying light does him no favors and he’s not foolish enough to think that this means the conversation will be dropped for any reasonable amount of time. He supposes there are worse ways to die. Not that he ever expected his death to be a good one. He opens his eyes when he feels his foot being tapped and looks up into the cross face of his charge. He’s been told again and again that the Fey are animals without manners. That they lack any sense of decency. But his charge looks offended at his silence and that makes him smile.

“What happens?”

“I don’t do that,” he repeats.

“Why not?” He doesn’t have an answer, “Lancelot, tell me why.”

It’s an odd thing to hear his name. He hasn’t heard it in so long, it should sound like the name of a stranger. But it doesn’t. It echoes and rolls through him like a living thing. It brings with it the smell of warm fires and his mother’s bread. Things he hasn’t thought of in so long. Fire was theirs. Fire was familiar. Comforting. It was how the Paladins snuck up on them, they didn’t smell that the fire wasn’t their own until the first ones had started to burn.

“It always got me punished,” he says finally. It doesn’t matter if the boy laughs or tells him he deserves to get punished, that’s nothing he doesn’t know, “so I stopped.”

“They’re not here,” comes the reply, “it’s just me and the horse. We won’t punish you.”

“I’ve done too much for the forest to help me now.”

“No you haven’t.”

He looks at him curiously.

“My friend did horrible things too. Killed loads of people and everyone was scared, so she tried to stop. But when she called on the forest, it always helped her,” he shrugs and sits next to him, “I can hold your other hand if you’re afraid.”

He feels his hand being grasped by the child. The touch startles him, it’s been a long time since anyone has touched him. It is the kindness that he didn’t expect at the end. He expected to be surrounded by people afraid of him, whether they were the brothers he had chosen or the brothers he was born to, he couldn’t say. But the fear was universal in them regardless. It was, perhaps, the one thing they had in common.

“You’re very brave,” he says finally, “and clever. You’ll be able to find them.”

The boy looks at him, seeming to realize he has no intention of doing what is being suggested. He’s familiar with boys who are forced to grow too fast, the ruthless things you must do to survive. He knows the Knight was right, he has forced many children to give up their innocence. He knows the hellfires that await him. He wonders if all of them have remained alive like the boy here. He thinks that they all may have shown him the kindness. The mercy. Odd that he should find it right before death.

“You’ll help me,” the boy tells him and without an ounce of remorse, he takes their clasped hands and flattens his against the soft earth.

The reaction is as damn fast as it always is.

It hurts just as much.

The green whispers through him and pulls him back together. He thinks he screams but he can’t be sure. He’s not sure if he exists at all or if he’s just part of it. Tracking is one thing, it’s removed. Letting the green do its work in him, that is something he’s successfully avoided since boyhood. It takes everything. Every wound, every bruise. He has to shove himself away from the tree lest his back close around his cloak. The green works and works, knitting back together every hurt. He’s part of it for endless, terrifying moments before it spits him back out, whole for the first time he can remember.

He gasps and longs for the pain.

He gasps and becomes aware of Squirrel’s hand locked around his wrist, not letting go. The green has worked on him too. His bruises and cuts are gone. Lancelot remembers his mother connecting him to the green a lifetime ago, but the memory has been pushed so far back he’s surprised he recalled it at all. Squirrel looks surprised and prods at his eye, realizing it doesn’t hurt anymore.

“How did you do that?” He asks.

“I don’t remember,” Lancelot tells him, “did I scream?” He looks around. The horse is grazing peacefully nearby so he couldn’t have. Not like it felt he was, “are you alright?”

“You healed me,” Squirrel points out.

“So physically at least,” Lancelot says. Now he realizes that he doesn’t have his main weapon. Damn. “I need a sword.”

Squirrel perks up.

“I know where we can find one.”

#cursed netflix #cursed #the weeping monk #weeping monk #cursed spoilers #cursed Netflix spoilers #squirrel #lancelot #pervical #we'll get back to Roswell we just took a trash detour because its me

233 notes · View notes

thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 19//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

A little late today, and with some minor tumblr glitches ><, but here’s chapter 19! Enjoy loves!

XXX

Being on strict bed rest was going to be a lot harder than I originally anticipated.

After the first couple of days, wherein Madja assured my mate and I that I was making excellent progress in my recovery, I began to grow mindlessly bored. During those first few days, Rhys continued his vigil at my side, but mercifully slept and ate when I did. He reopened his line of communication with our friends in the estate, talking with them mind-to-mind and updating them on my condition. He also relayed any messages they had for me, allowing me past his mental shields so I could hear their words directly. After hearing Mor practically beg to see me after the umpteenth time, I informed my mate that it was time to put an end to our isolation period. His male-bonded instincts made him reluctant at first, but after I reminded him of the instructions given to him by our healer—to allow our friends, our family, to take care of the both of us, he acquiesced.

Now, a week later, I was more than content when they took turns visiting me. Sometimes they would visit in pairs—my sisters, Mor and Amren, Cassian and Azriel, or sometimes all at once; I was almost never bored now that I had their company. However, this period of confinement to my bed set the others on a new protective edge I had never seen before. Before the incident, they had all done their best to help me whenever I was uncomfortable, or when some pregnancy-related symptom reared its ugly head. When I would mention the strange dreams I had at night, Amren brought me a book on the philosophies of dreaming and what they might mean; while Mor theorized how we could interpret them. When a certain flower in Elain's garden had stirred nausea in my stomach, she removed them. When I watched Azriel and Cassian training in the pit and somehow grew a charlie-horse in my calf from sitting too long with my legs tucked underneath me, Cassian massaged the spot while Azriel offered advice on how to stretch my muscles safely while I remained unable to train during my pregnancy.

Their care was subtle; it was the little things here and there that they did for me while Rhys waited on my hand and foot—or as much as I would allow him to. Now that I was restricted to my bed, only allowed up to use the washing room or to bathe, they all tended to me. They wanted to help in whatever way they could, sometimes bringing me food and drinks when they visited, or sometimes bringing different books or other forms of entertainment. My appreciation only grew when, after the third day of my lying-in and receiving another excellent progress report of my recovery from Madja, Rhys finally left my side in order to meet with Palace Lords or with his Commander of armies and spymaster.

Velaris was still working towards rebuilding and managing repairs after the fire. Not unlike the first attack from Hybern, there were many shops, studios, and galleries that had been destroyed. Thankfully, the studio Ressina and I had established for the children of Velaris only suffered minimal damages, but my heart ached at the thought of those whose establishments were beyond repair. After a decade of peace, of healing from the war, they now had to start all over again. The only thing quelling my grief was the knowledge that Rhys and I had the funds necessary to allocate towards helping make those repairs and helping those who were now misplaced by the fires. That, and the societies that had been formed after the war worked tirelessly with volunteers to restore the Rainbow to its former glory. It would take time, but I was glad to know that, only a week after the attack, our citizens were determined and inspired to work together despite this tragedy that had befallen them—again.

"Are we starting this morning with those somber thoughts, my love?" Rhys asked softly, his arm draped around me as we lay in bed.

I was still too tired, too weak, to try and hold up my shields of adamant—so instead I left them down, allowing Rhys to hear my concerns or complaints through my thoughts. I sighed as I turned to face him, smiling lazily as those powerful hands gripped my hips gently to help me turn.

I touched his cheek gently, his violet eyes half lidded—still heavy from sleep. "I just feel...terrible," I started. "I can't help them by volunteering like I did after the war."

Rhys nodded his understanding, moving the hand on my hip to my stomach. "No one expects that of you, Feyre, especially in your condition. Even if you weren't on bedrest, they would probably insist you take it easy regardless," he said before moving his hand from my stomach to my cheek.

"You saved the city from burning to the ground. That was a sacrifice our people know you made given your current circumstances, and they are so grateful," he pressed a kiss to my brow. "The last thing they want is to see their recovering High Lady lift another finger."

I gave him a wry smile, "It's the last thing that they want or that you want?"

He kissed me full on the lips before offering a feline grin. "Semantics. Now let me say good morning to my son," he said before caressing my stomach, angling his head to stare at it lovingly.

He beamed when he felt that glimmer beneath his touch, our son greeting him before moving around excitedly. "Good morning, Bash," he said as he continued to stroke the swell of my belly.

"I'm still not sold on the nickname," I said as I brushed my fingers over the tattoos on his shoulder.

"We could go with Bastion, that also has a good connotation associated with it," Rhys suggested with a smirk.

I laughed and pinched his shoulder. "Our poor son will be so confused by his own name," I half-heartedly lamented.

"Nonsense, he'll know that his name comes with strength, regardless of a nickname. Won't you, Bash?" he asked my belly before lifting my dressing gown in order to place a tender kiss on my bare skin.

I smiled as he came back to give me another kiss and I melted into him with a rueful sigh. Along with limited mobility and being subjected to my bed, Madja had informed us that we also could not engage in "other mated activities." As much as I enjoyed other forms of intimacy with my mate that didn't involve sex, I couldn't help but feel an ache from our lack of activity.

"I miss it too," he purred in my ear and I shuddered.

He pulled away with a roguish grin and I pouted—actually pouted as I watched him disappear into the bathing room for a few minutes before reappearing and dressing for the day. Now that he allowed himself to part from me, he met daily with Cassian and Azriel to go over reports, taking extra care to look out for any updates and intel gathered from the Autumn Court. After what Beron pulled on us, Mor sent out an initial warning to the other courts while Rhys and I were incapacitated. We didn't know where the male would strike next, so as third-in-command, Mor warned them of the possibility that they might be targeted. Mercifully, the High Lord of Autumn hadn't unleashed Vassa onto the other courts—according to their responses, but that left all of Prythian on edge.

Cassian had implemented his security protocols along our borders, working with the legion of Illyrians he recruited and trusted hadn't turned with the rebels. Our neighbors and other allies had done the same, leaving all eyes on the Autumn Court. Azriel and his network of spies were continuing their work in the shadows, gathering whatever information they could, but as far as any of us knew, Autumn had closed themselves off from the rest of the continent. Their own borders were tightened; wards set in place above their territory as well, making it even more difficult for Azriel to work. However, according to letters being exchanged with the other courts, Helion offered his assistance to the spymaster; having made the plans to infiltrate those borders last night.

The meeting this morning would be crucial; detailing whatever Azriel had been able to gather, along with more reports from the Hewn City. As stated by the shadowsinger's recent reports from his network of spies established in the Court of Nightmares, Keir had cut all ties with Beron, and we had yet to know if that was prior to or after the attack the Autumn male had released on us. Hopefully this morning's briefing would answer that question.

"Hold the meeting here," I said to Rhys after he finished buttoning the collar of his black tunic.

He hesitated, but before he could protest, I cut in. "I'll stay here in bed, I promise. There's plenty of room in our suite for Cassian and Azriel to come in and go over the reports."

Rhys sighed and sat on the edge of the bed as I pushed myself upright. "Madja instructed you to turn over your duties as High Lady, for the time being. No additional stress, remember?"

"Yes, I know, but you're just going to inform me of everything that's said regardless. That's what you've been doing, remember?" I challenged.

His answering smile was crooked. "You're right," he started, his hand coming to rest on my stomach again.

I eyed him warily, "I'm sensing a 'but.'"

He sighed. "But I don't want whatever Az comes back with to stir up any stress and cause you harm."

I crossed my arms, noting how they now propped over the mound of my stomach. "So, you were planning to sugarcoat it for me later?" I asked with a raised brow.

"No of course not, Feyre." He sighed heavily, running a hand over his slick dark hair.

Through the bond I could feel him battle with his instincts—his primal need to protect me and our son in our already fragile state. I softened a bit as I watched him struggle to find words before I placed a hand on his.

"I've made great improvements this week, Rhys. Madja confirmed that soon I would be able to return to a light workload, so let me start small. I'll stay in bed while the three of you go over the reports, just these reports, and then you can go about the rest of your duties today and I'll spend the afternoon with my sisters here." I suggested, remembering the ways my sisters had insisted I ease-up on my workload and knew that I would need to implement them for the duration of my pregnancy. The bed rest had enforced this with stricter rules than I originally expected, but I had to admit it was nice to take a step back. Once the strict confinement was lifted however, I wanted to at least handle a little bit of my responsibilities as High Lady until my time came nearer.

"Just this one meeting, in the comfort of our room, is all I ask Rhys." I offered with a squeeze of his hand.

He nodded and squeezed my hand back. "This one meeting, and maybe a couple more after your bed rest is over." He said, having heard my thoughts through my unshielded mind.

I rolled my eyes but nodded in agreement as he helped out of bed, holding me under my elbows as I slowly moved from the edge of the bed to a standing position before him. A part of me felt moving this slowly was an exaggeration but necessary.

"It is," Rhys said, flicking the tip of my nose as I stood before him. "Necessary."

I stuck my tongue out at him, "Stay out of my head. Just because I'm too weak to throw my shields up doesn't mean every last thought is up for grabs." He laughed and moved an arm around my waist as we made our slow trek to the adjoining bathing room.

I had been a bit mortified, at first, when Rhys had to help me perform basic functions—like sitting on the toilet, but my mate hadn't been deterred. After a decade of helping me change out of blood-soaked undergarments during my cycle, I shouldn't have been so flustered, but this felt so different. Still, Rhys didn't so much as bat an eye when he helped me to relieve myself or when he helped me into the tub to bathe—that he actually enjoyed. After a week, I still flushed on our trips to the bathing room, despite his constant reassurance that I shouldn't be embarrassed of my bodily functions—especially in front of him.

After I bathed, which he still tried to insist he do for me—to which I always retorted that I wasn't an invalid despite being on bed rest, he led me back to our room and I sat in my robe as he dug through my armoire.

"Find me something more official," I said. "Not just leggings and a blouse."

Rhys threw an amused brow at me over his shoulder. "You mean something more befitting of a High Lady?"

"Yes, though I'm not on duty right now, I can still dress like one from time to time," I insisted.

He only chuckled before pulling out a simple turquoise colored long-sleeved day dress that would fall just below my knees. Despite the warm weather the end of summer provided, the material was lightweight and would be comfortable enough to wear in bed. I nodded in approval and he brought it over to help me change. Just as he helped me over to the lounge placed at the foot of our bed, a familiar knock came at our door. Based on the weight of it, I knew it was Cassian.

"That was quick," I said to Rhys as he snapped his fingers—his magic making our bed and organizing it neatly.

"I let them know we were meeting in here today," he said with a wink before going to answer the door.

I smoothed out my dress as he led the Illyrians in and sat up a little straighter when I saw Cassian holding a small pastry box in hand. He grinned the second he noticed me staring at it and walked it over to me.

"Your sister, Nuala and Cerridwen made a raspberry braid early this morning and insisted I bring you a couple pieces," he explained as I took the box eagerly from him.

I sighed deeply as I opened the box, inhaling the sweet and buttery scent of the pastry and smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Cassian," I said before taking a piece and biting into it.

"How are you feeling?" Azriel asked as he fell in step beside Cassian, the latter then going over to the medium sized table Rhys and I had set up on the other side of the room to spread out the stacks of reports.

"Still worn out, but good." I said reassuringly. "Do you have an update for us?"

I saw his shoulders tense at my question, and he exchanged a wary glance with Cassian before they both faced us. "Helion was able to create a weak spot in the wards around the borders of the Autumn Court, allowing my spies in, but that's where the good news ends."

Rhys and I shared a frown as he stood beside the lounge I sat on, gripping the back of it a little tighter than he meant to. "Well?"

Cassian swore under his breath. "It seems Beron found Eris's attempts to rally their armies against him, lost his mind, and launched an all-out civil war against his own bastard son."

I blinked. "The Autumn Court is battling within themselves?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"He knew trying to depose his father in order to take over as High Lord would be tricky, which is why he called in the favor to us so long ago," Rhys explained.

"Right, but they're actually fighting each other now?" I asked again.

Cassian nodded and Azriel crossed his arms over his broad chest. "It's absolute hell in their territory. Eris is not doing so well with his armies, especially now that his father has recruited the sorcerer who controls Vassa, and my spies indicate that he is drafting a letter to send to the other High Lords of Prythian," he said. "Including us."

I felt Rhys's shadows grow darker, "I assume that means Keir isn't aiding either one of them?"

Cassian scoffed. "That bastard dropped out of their deal the moment he saw the instability in Beron's court. My guess is he's waiting to see who ends up taking over the seat of High Lord before trying to form a new alliance."

A spark of relief went through me, but it was short-lived as I asked, "Does that mean Keir is stalling his plans for the coup?"

Azriel gave me a somber look, "My spies found that he is restructuring plans with Kallon to move sooner rather than later. If the other high lords aid Eris in fighting his father, that leaves us with diminished assistance in our fight against him."

The bit of pastry I ate now roiled in my stomach as I sat back against the lounge, completely taken aback. "What do we do?" I whispered.

"We still have time," Rhys said. "I'll write to the others. They won't all decide to help Eris, they don't trust him. Especially after what happened at the summit."

"Helion already promised us his forces, if that should be the case. He was there when Az received the report, and he's informed Thesan as well." Cassian reassured, Azriel nodding in confirmation.

The nausea in my stomach alleviated a bit. Two additional courts against half the Illyrians and Keir's Darkbringers. I recalled the memories of the two armies working together on the battlefield against Hybern; remembered their might and Cassian's claim that success in battle was often decided not by numbers, but by picking where to fight. The Illyrians and Darkbringers would no doubt thrive in their home court.

"He also told you knowing when to fight was equally as important. Brute that he is, Keir won't strike until he believes he has the upper hand. It's why he's held off as long as he has and will continue to until he can guarantee what is happening in the Autumn Court will put us at a disadvantage." Rhys explained, hearing the rising anxiety in my thoughts, and gripped my shoulder gently.

Cassian and Azriel must've realized what I had been thinking, because they then each nodded in approval. "There isn't reason to panic just yet, Feyre." Cassian reassured. "It's bad news, but Rhys is right. The prick won't make any moves until he has assurance that he'll get what he wants."

I nodded, the dread that had been building up in my chest beginning to ease. I sighed as I sat up a bit. "You aren't all just saying this to make sure I don't get hysterical and go into spontaneous labor again, are you?"

"I would never lie to you, Feyre." Azriel answered without hesitation as Rhys squeezed my shoulder lightly. "That includes not sugarcoating the truth."

"You're my High Lady. I will always be upfront with you," Cassian promised.

I sighed and gripped the hand on my shoulder, squeezing it as I met Rhys's eyes. They were hardened amethyst, but conveyed the same promise.

"In the meantime, we set up wards around Velaris. I don't want to take even the slightest chance. The bastard will know what it means, and he can stew in his rage for all I care. He won't be a problem for much longer," Rhys said, his voice dangerously dark.

I gulped but dipped my head in agreement. "We write to the other courts as well, like you said. As soon as this mess in the Autumn Court is resolved, we'll gather and confront Keir and Kallon, and put an end to this once and for all." I said.

We all exchanged the same grave expressions, knowing that we'd be rid of these insurgents—soon.

XXX

I had wisely chosen to spend the rest of the day with my sisters. While Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel immediately went about executing the next phase in our plans to finally put an end to this coup. Cassian and Azriel left only minutes after Rhys called an end to our meeting, going to work on securing and preparing the city for the wards my mate would put up. I managed to convince Rhys to eat a bit of breakfast before he officially started his day. Not only was he going to send out letters to the other High Lords, Clotho aiding him in writing those letters, but also planned to meet with the Palace Lords of Velaris and inform them of the wards to be set in place—today. We, along with the other courts, were now officially preparing for war.

I tried not to think about it as I sat on the chaise lounge of my suite's sitting room with Elain and Nesta, trying to focus on Elain's excitement about finalizing the details of her plans to transform the sitting room into a nursery.

"And I think the cradle should go here in the middle of the room." Elain explained as she moved over the plush carpet in the center of the room, positioning herself to show the precise location.

I nodded, running an idle hand over my stomach as I felt a glimmer of excitement inside of it. "I like it," I said tiredly. After the meeting this morning, I was already sufficiently drained of any energy.

"I would think you'd be more excited about it," Nesta said coldly from her seat on the lounge adjacent to me. "Considering Elain made all these plans for your child."

I narrowed my eyes at my eldest sister, wondering how much longer I would be able to tolerate the icy rage she bore towards me ever since I had been placed on bed rest. Whenever she and Elain would visit my bedside, Nesta remained indifferent—hardly saying more than a few words at a time to me, and almost all of them hostile. Thinking back to her behavior at the cabin just a little over a week prior, the concern she expressed for mine and my child's health, had me wondering what had caused her flip in attitude so suddenly.

"It really wasn't any trouble," Elain began carefully, sensing the tension stirring between us. "The baby is our niece or nephew, and I wanted to contribute something."

"Thank you, Elain," I said before sliding my eyes back to Nesta. "And for the record, I am excited, but I'm also exhausted. In case you haven't noticed." I motioned to my stomach for emphasis.

Nesta didn't look impressed, instead taking a sip of her tea with a shrug. "I'd say you only have yourself to blame for that."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped, sitting up a little straighter.

Elain took a step towards me; Nesta snapping back at me with equal vigor. "I mean it's your own fault for the state you're in now. You didn't have to be confined to your bed, your body working overtime to recover from a near-loss that could have been avoided."

I stared at her, mouth agape in complete and utter shock. "Nesta, please. We can't be upsetting Feyre right now in-" Elain started but Nesta cut her off with a scoff as she stood.

"Why should I coddle her?" She asked before directing those deadly grey-blue eyes at me. My eyes—stirring with Nesta's own dark power that swirled under her delicate fae features. "We warned you to be careful, to take a step back and let the others here handle your vocations as High Lady, and not two damn minutes later you winnow away and use your powers."

"I did it to save my city." I said, my voice barely above a whisper as my throat grew tight at her words. "Our city. Our home. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not when it could've cost you your youngling!" She barked. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are that you didn't? That your youngling survived, despite the risk, meanwhile females like me-" she stopped herself, realizing her words.

Elain covered her mouth and I blinked, a few traitorous tears slipping down my face. I recalled Cassian's revelation from months ago as Nesta clenched her fists and turned away, going to the tea cart placed on the other side of her lounge chair.

"Meanwhile females like you who can't have their own?" I said softly.

Her shoulders stiffed, but she didn't turn to meet my gaze. "Who told you that?" She asked, her voice not as fierce as it had just been—a crack in her hardened veneer.

"Is that why you're mad at me Nesta?" I returned, deciding I wouldn't dance around this issue any longer. "Because I put my child at risk, without any consideration to how it might make you feel. You who can't bear her own youngling?"

I saw her head dip below her shoulders slowly, the hand holding a teacup trembling before a tiny crack formed. I sighed shakily, sniffing as I forced away my tears with a gulp.

"Nesta, I'm so sorry," I began. "The last thing I wanted was to hurt anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if everyone secretly felt the same way. What I did...was dangerous. You're right, I could've lost my child...my son."

Elain turned her teary gaze to my stomach. "It's a boy?"

"Yes, and I know in that moment my instincts as High Lady overshadowed my instincts as a mother, and I," I choked back a sob as I rubbed the swell of my stomach gently. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself, even if everyone else has. But I won't blame them if they don't—if you don't."

Elain wiped a few tears away as she sat beside me, placing her hands over mine and squeezed them gently, while Nesta's shoulders gradually lowered. "I'm sorry," I whispered again.

"I felt that way once." She said, her voice gravelly as she finally turned to face Elain and me. The fire in her blue-grey eyes now smoldered with that sorrow I had seen before; on that day we learned that Viviane had given birth to Eira.

"I once thought I would never forgive myself...after I lost my youngling." She ignored Elain's quiet gasp as she stared out the window, wrapping her arms around herself. "It was years ago, after the war. While I was with Cassian in the Illyrian mountains. As a human, my cycles were few and far between, and after I was made, they stopped altogether." She cleared her throat with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"I assumed long ago that I would never be able to carry a child, had made my peace with it...until I woke up one morning in a pool of blood. The look on Cassian's face when he-" her voice faltered and I saw her throat bob, staring up into the sky for a minute before she was finally able to move on. "The Illyrian healers said it was very early on, only six weeks at the most, and later Madja confirmed that my body was...incapable of ever bringing a youngling to term."

She turned to face me. "It was part of the reason why it took me so long to return from the mountains. Knowing you and your High Lord wanted a family of your own, knowing I could return and see you with child," she paused as she stared at my stomach. "My outlook changed over the course of that year, and thanks to that brute, I...was able to face you all again. Even with the loss weighing on him just as heavily, he managed to work past it and pull me up through those depths I was already well into after the events of the war.

"When I learned you were pregnant, I thought it would cause me pain, but instead I saw it as an...opportunity. It wasn't until then that I realized I finally forgave myself for the loss, realized it wasn't my fault, and I was grateful." Our eyes met again, meaningfully, and I motioned for Elain's help as I slowly scooted to the edge of my seat.

Elain jumped to her feet and gingerly helped me to mine. Nesta sucked in a breath, prepared to protest as I made a step towards her, but she instead crossed the room in a couple of strides and embraced me. Tears I hadn't realized were already in my eyes fell as Nesta squeezed her arms around me—careful not to put any strain on my middle, and only a few seconds later Elain's arms encircled us both as best she could.

"Forgive yourself, Feyre," Nesta breathed before pulling back enough to meet my stare. "And take care. Let the others, let us, take care of you and your son."

I nodded with a sob before Elain pulled her back into our embrace and we all held each other—like we had all once done so, so long ago.

39 notes · View notes