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ackerifle · 11 months ago

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Okay but what about those AU’s with Levi being a Marleyan Warrior? I’m curious what your take on that kind of yan Levi would be like. Especially if like maybe he has a s/o who was kinda like in a situation like Annie (being used by a parental figure for status but like unlike Annie she wasn’t good enough to become a Warrior so maybe marrying her off to one would be the next best thing?)

homecoming!

yan. honorary marleyan levi ackerman x fem warrior candidate. reader

+ CW. — au: canon reversal & arranged marriage, abuse of power & authority, coercion, darling lowk has an inferiority complex, implied: past parental abuse, extortion, statutory rape & non-con; i apologize this req has been completed so late, but i do love this concept; not proof-read.

it was rare for the intermittent zone to be busy, and even rarer for its streets to be overcrowded with civilians. the bustling sound of lively cheers, applause, and other such joyous ovations could be heard throughout the city of otherwise gloomy vacant side streets and industrial buildings. men and women gathered in large for the occasion, with their hands reaching towards the heavenly sky, and their hats and coats being tossed into the air. some children could be seen sitting on the back of their father’s neck to gain a better view, and some children could be seen holding onto their mother’s hands as they pointed towards the center of attention, innocently claiming how they wanted to ‘grow up to be like them!’ one day.

the open horse-drawn carriage eased its way down the road, in no particular hurry, as the citizens of the liberio intermittent zone celebrated in the soldier’s stead. there were four of them sitting on the carriage, four honorary marleyan’s who waved cordially and offered charming smiles to their grand audience. each of them; erwin, hange, mike, and levi, were undeniably brilliant, talented and exceptional— even during their grueling training years, gifted even. their graduation was well-deserved, and perhaps they were owed even more for their sheer importance to such a crucial advancement for the populace of marley’s eldian’s. they were great, but none of them were you.

you had made the cut for warrior candidate, but not for honorary marleyan. it was devastating, really, but not as devastating as it was for your parents. even if you had truly given it your all, it wasn’t good enough, much to their dismay and disappointment. when the first official advertisement from the marleyan government had been released, entailing a recruitment that would reward honorary marleyan citizenship (at the cost of eldian youths being indentured into the military), your parents were quick to enlist you.

hard work was nearly never paid off, the more you pushed, the more they expected; and you could only ever recall them feeling an ounce of satisfaction when you had informed them you had become a warrior candidate. training was not solely done under the marleyan government’s surveillance, your parents had played quite an involved role in your betterment. and honestly, the feeling of being hit by one of them was much worse than any marleyan commandant could ever hope to achieve.

“hey— hello, hey!” the familiar voice struck you out of your bitterly reminiscent trance, eyes set on the sight before you. the carriage had come down far enough to fill the space in the street in front of your section. even though you stood behind quite a few people, lined up like a sardine as you were shoulder to shoulder with those around you, hange still managed to spot you. you wonder if they were looking for you, “hi~!”

their voice was obnoxiously loud as they drew out the high-pitched greeting. the brunet grabbed a hold of erwin’s shoulder, who sat to the right of them, and aggressively shook him to the point you feared his brain may have hit contact with his skull, and he would fall unconscious. when he steadied himself, they pointed in your direction, and the commotion caused the other two honorary marleyan’s to look your way as well. raising their hands, both out of respect and peer pressure from their enthusiastic peer, they offer polite waves. and upon doing so, the people standing around you clamored with much more ferocity than beforehand, followed by more tumultuous hollers, even waving back to them, but you knew they were all waving at you.

hesitantly and undecidedly, you lift a shy hand to wave back, ultimately determining it would be rude to ignore them, especially after hange had gone out of their way to scout you out. an enviously curt smile creeps it’s way onto your lips, eyes first landing on erwin, the apple of the marleyan government’s eye, and moving onto hange who was still energetically waving their hands, then to mike who acknowledged you with a faint salute, and lastly to levi. he sat at the left end of the carriage, closest to the road where you stood. he made no effort to wave to you, to smile like the other honorary marleyan’s — even if they were evidently fake — but he simply stared. you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze, that is until you observed that he wasn’t making eye contact with you at all. it was your hand, or rather, the ring that sat prettily on it.

and in an instant, you covered your fingers with your other hand, grabbing the ringed hand and lowering it with a resentful leer. the corners of levi’s lips pulled into the start of a grin, but he had enough self control to not showcase such a foolish smile to such an enormous crowd. tersely turning your heel, dropping your head with a raging combination of shame, embarrassment, and jealousy, you stormed through the mass of liberio’s residents.

“don’t take it to heart surname, it’s nothing personal.” as the ship awaited the honorary marleyan’s arrival down to the docks, you found yourself in conversation with commander shadis. there is a part of you that hates him for not promoting you, it is humiliating to be the only warrior candidate of a crew of five that wasn’t selected. even if you know you’re responsible for your own shortcomings, including the ones that can’t be helped, “i don’t.” you lie.

shadis looks down upon you, discerning whether or not you mean what you say. he watches only briefly, your focus is elsewhere. eyebrows knitted and lips pursed, you study the ship floating peacefully atop the relaxed waves. this would be the vessel that delivers marley’s finest eldian warriors to heaven, and you could only have the privilege to see it depart. turning towards shadis, you open your mouth to speak, but his eyes just barely look past you, and he raises a palm. the commander promptly steps beside you, avoiding you like you’re a nuisance, and you follow his direction, turning around before your eyes fall onto the blond honorary marleyan standing only a few steps away with his arms courteously folded behind his back. eyeing shadis as he places a welcoming hand on erwin’s shoulder and leads him down the docks without so much as a goodbye, you sneer with green eyes.

“hey, name! name!” you stumble forward as the sudden force of someone’s body engulfing yours from behind overwhelms your sense of stability. an arm slithers around your own shoulder, lodging an arm in the forefront of your neck, dangerously close to your throat. their other arm makes its way around your torso, squeezing playfully before shaking you violently. it makes for an awkward hug, and there is only one person who does this, “hange, you’ll kill her.”

turning your head to the left and being met with hange’s face concerningly close to yours, you lightly push them back by the bridge of their glasses. they cry out something about how you’re too cruel to reject their sappy farewell, pulling you closer every time you push them further away, holding you like a rag doll. peering down at you, to your right is mike, and you only truly pay him mind when he roughly pats you on the back once hange detaches themselves from your body, likely with more force than he initially intended, “don’t you two have a mission to go on?” you mutter under your breath, sucking your teeth and looking up at mike with a raised brow.

“that we do.” he nods in agreement, closing his eyes with a sigh, and prying hange’s limbs from yours. they exaggeratedly whine and complain about how the operation won’t be the same without you there, ruffling your hair until it’s unfixably messy, to which you stare blankly at them, “we’ll miss you.” hange speaks seriously, holding their head in their palm with their other hand secured to their hips. mike, once again, bobs his head in agreement, but gives you a knowing look. you think they pity you, but you pity them more.

“i’ll miss you guys too.” wincing at how your voice wavered with uncertainty, you avert your gaze, and avoid looking them both in the eye. when the silence lingers for two seconds too long, your eyes curiously sweeps towards them, and they’re both already looking at you. hange’s grin grows wider, and you’re lucky enough to dodge their arms this time, reaching out to pull you into one more embrace. you swivel them around by the shoulders, retracting your hands for only a moment before placing them on hange’s back and shoving them into mike, “ugh, go! go! before i seriously start crying or some shit.” the latter part of your sentence turns into a whisper, but it does not go unnoticed by hange, nor mike.

howling and cackling all the way down the incline from the pavement to the docks, hange yells out a— “he’s really rubbing off on you!” over their shoulder. pinching the bridge of your nose and despondently shaking your head, you avoid dwelling on the mention and focus on hange and mike’s figures that fade as they board the ship. once you’re content enough to take your eyes off of them (and allow your poor heart to stop beating), you make your leave.

“and to think you wouldn’t say so much as a ‘goodbye’ to your husband.” blinking owlishly, you’re torn on how to greet levi. you may have seen him throughout the day, but you hadn’t properly spoken to him since the two of you had been wed. and quite frankly, you don’t believe he deserves a farewell, not after what he had done during your wedding night. dissociative memories and unsavory imagery flashes in your mind, causing you to frown; and you are still unsure how you will civilly converse with him now. you’re indecisive, but that’s okay, because levi is not.

draping his arms over your shoulders and wrapping them behind your neck, his left hand drops to your upper back while his right hand supports the crown of your head until you’ve been angled perfectly for him. and he kisses you, hard. you go limp in his arms, refusing to reciprocate the kiss with your eyes wide, and painfully self aware of the people ogling and gawking at you two. levi nips and bites at your bottom lip, like a needy cat, and you press your lips together, sealing them shut, and instinctively, your eyes follow, screwing shut as well. he is displeased with how stiff you are, drawing back entirely, only for him to harshly place a hand on either side of your face and yank you towards him. and despite how brutish and difficult he is being this time around, levi kisses you softly. he’s being gentle, he’s being sweet.

and you are weak to this kind of love, and he knows. so inevitably, you give in, you give him what he wants, momentarily leaning in to return the kiss before pulling away. levi allows his hands to rest on your cheeks for a while longer, studying you intensely. his eyes make you nervous, always had, and continue to, and you nervously bring one hand to sit atop his own, slightly leaning into his touch. levi’s eyes follow your movement, and he is no longer cupping your face, but rather, holding onto your hand and bringing it to his lips. he places a chaste kiss to the ring on your finger, before lifting his head and kissing you one last time, but he does not let go of your hand.

“i love you.” your gut wrenches and heart tightens, constricts even, “i know.” perhaps if you had met levi under a different pretense, one where you and him were not deployed as soldiers before the two of you had even turned ten, and you were not in the midst of a war that threatened your family and nation, you would have found his love romantic. would have liked it, even. because you believe he wouldn’t behave like this, in a way that you don’t like.

“i will come back for you, so take care of yourself and don’t do anything stupid.” he glares at you almost accusingly, like you had done something wrong, like whatever levi had been thinking of at that moment had come true. you only nod, and levi sets his hands on your shoulders and reels you in until his mouth hovers beside your ear, “and don’t you dare think of cheating on me, i’ll do unspeakable things to you.” intimidation, levi’s personal favorite way to remind you of your tight leash. but unlike many fraudulent men who attempt to keep their wives from leaving them, levi has the strength to back up his claims. and you would prefer a marriage without broken bones.

swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky exhale, “of course not, i would never.”

and you don’t, not for the five years that levi had been away were you involved with another man, not once. although you admit, you would have been unfaithful had it not been for his psychotic uncle breathing down your neck all the time (you still wonder what levi desperate measures and what leverage he persuaded him with considering what low regards levi held kenny to), and his absolute godsend of a mother who you had been insistent on taking care of. the latter of the two was the ackerman who you found yourself interacting with the most, kenny wanted little to do with you, lest he suspected you of cheating— which led you to believe he was keeping frequent tabs on you with how often he would abruptly appear on your doorstep to confront you once kuchel had gone to bed. but kuchel, kuchel was an angel.

her circumstances were unfortunate, often bedridden due to her illness and age, but she was so caring. you had known her for a long time, prior to becoming a warrior candidate, when you had first enlisted. you felt envious even back then, when you watched your fellow trainee’s go home with their families. but kuchel was memorable, when she noticed you had been walking down the streets of liberio’s intermittent zone by yourself, she approached you with her hand in younger levi’s, and asked where your parents were. naïve as you were, as any child was, you were honest, and she was mortified.

thus, kuchel would walk you to your home every evening when she came to pick up levi, and she was surprised that levi not once opposed your presence. if she didn’t know any better, she would have presumed he actually looked forward to it. and over the years you had stopped seeing her, she had fallen more ill, and it had turned into only levi walking you home.

it was blatantly obvious what was going on, and kuchel has a difficult time looking you in the eyes these days. you speculate that maybe she feels guilty for letting her son have his way with you, for allowing it to go on for so long and ignoring the telltale signs (giving you half-withered flowers he found, following you when you told him not to, darkly confessing his pre-planned future with you to her). but in reality, sometimes, she doesn’t believe she deserves your care. but you’ve forgiven her, she knows because you stay, and she is forever grateful for you.

that is why she doesn’t stop you when you badmouth her brother in her presence, why she doesn’t stop you when you throw out every item that reminds you of her son, why she doesn’t stop you when you cry and scream about how you hate to be here, how you’ll find a way to legally unbind yourself from this unwanted marriage. but that is also why she doesn’t tell you that the ship has docked at the moor five years later. the honorary marleyan’s had returned, or rather, he returned. only him. you come to find out that levi had been the sole survivor of the four warriors, that erwin, hange, and mike had all passed along the way. and you don’t know who you feel more sorry for, for yourself, or for him.

“i missed you.” you know, you know levi’s missed you with the way he marks you. and you think you’re going to pass out. it’s hot, and you think he’s trying to kill you, suffocating you under his weight as he slams his body down onto yours when you try to crawl away. like he’s attempting to become one with you, levi’s hand holds yours, and he pushes onto your palm with such force, it feels like your wrist will snap. but the worst part is when he leaves marks all over. your lips are swollen and bloody, but so is your neck, and your breasts, your stomach, and your thighs. they aren’t sweet, they blemishes are full of teeth indents and blood, they’re red and sore, and they’re certain to bruise.

levi sighs quietly, “won’t you say something?” gasping for air, you weakly shake your head. but through the delirium and euphoria, levi notices. he takes his hand from yours, and cups your face, lightly grazing his thumb — that was hazardously close to your eye — across your cheek. and although his lips have ravaged and conquered every bit of your exposed skin, he continues to kiss you. but this time, he’s nicer, he’s merciful. first it’s your cheek, then your nose, your jaw, your forehead, your cheekbones, your other cheek; “please, i want you.”

you squirm beneath him when he persists. you place your palm flat against his bare chest, and his heart drums against your touch, “you do— hah, you have me.” levi collapses onto you but doesn’t stop, and you catch your breath, panting in hopes your chest will stop aching. you know you can’t give him anything more, not when he’s already relentlessly taken from you, “i know, i just… i needed you to say it.”

#ackerifle #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader

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magpie-trove · 6 days ago

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Why should our praise and glorification, or even the celebration of this feast day mean anything to the saints? What do they care about earthly honours when their heavenly Father honours them by fulfilling the faithful promise of the Son? What does our commendation mean to them? The saints have no need of honour from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs. Clearly, if we venerate their memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning.

Calling the saints to mind inspires, or rather arouses in us, above all else, a longing to enjoy their company, so desirable in itself. We long to share in the citizenship of heaven, to dwell with the spirits of the blessed, to join the assembly of patriarchs, the ranks of the prophets, the council of apostles, the great host of martyrs, the noble company of confessors and the choir of virgins. In short, we long to be united in happiness with all the saints. But our dispositions change. The Church of all the first followers of Christ awaits us, but we do nothing about it. The saints want us to be with them, and we are indifferent. The souls of the just await us, and we ignore them.

Come, brothers, let us at length spur ourselves on. We must rise again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for our coming to intercede for us. We should not only want to be with the saints, we should also hope to possess their happiness. While we desire to be in their company, we must also earnestly seek to share in their glory. Do not imagine that there is anything harmful in such an ambition as this; there is no danger in setting our hearts on such glory.

When we commemorate the saints we are inflamed with another yearning: that Christ our life may also appear to us as he appeared to them and that we may one day share in his glory. Until then we see him, not as he is, but as he became for our sake. He is our head, crowned, not with glory, but with the thorns of our sins. As members of that head, crowned with thorns, we should be ashamed to live in luxury; his purple robes are a mockery rather than an honour. When Christ comes again, his death shall no longer be proclaimed, and we shall know that we also have died, and that our life is hidden with him. The glorious head of the Church will appear and his glorified members will shine in splendour with him, when he forms this lowly body anew into such glory as belongs to himself, its head.

—Bernard of Clairvaux

#quotes

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its-a-rat-trap · 29 days ago

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BOB GELDOF: OFFICIAL STATEMENT REGARDING CITIZENS OF BOOMTOWN

From The Pen of Bob Geldof:

My Fellow Citizens…

Time moves on alas and Boomtown needs to re-purpose its infrastructural modalities. That’s right Citizens we need to up-scale, downsize and re-position ourselves vertically but on a horizontally focussed axis to be better prepared online-sly speaking for the coming mega-celebratory 50th Boomtown Birthday.

The Citizens of Boomtown site and forum will shortly be seamlessly absorbed into the NEW BOOMTOWN SUPERSITE!! still giving you all the current extraordinary benefits of Citizenship, geeky discursive debating platforms but not really! Wow!!

Basically there’s no point in having two sites in effect doing the same thing so some maddened managerial time and motion efficiency freak begged Pete (blame him) to allow Mayor Jennifer and Techno buff Joke to “rationalise” our online presence, be slightly more professional (who? Us? The Rats? - you’re joking mate) and frankly get it together webbily-speaking. So…

COB is a great album but being released two days before lockdown, like a lot of things and people it got obstructed by Covid 19. So goodbye promotion, tour and what we had hoped would be a different route of approaching the band and music through a site or device where fans would be the same as the band in a shared experience of being Citizens of the “idea” of what Boomtown might be or could be and which, as a result become self-growing, outside of the band where the band and its members became irrelevant to the ongoing life of the site/idea/citizens. But still the background hum that united it all was the music coming out of that towering imaginary Ratopolis.

So feel free to jump in your leaky inflatable rubber dinghy, don your useless safety vest, pay a scumbag Rat-trafficker and migrate the tricky electric tides away from the doomed but forever beautiful city to the fun-lovin’, hip-swingin’, ga-roovey, ca-razey sunny uplands of brand new/old Ratland! That country where even the Rats roam free and zephyr winds carry wafts of gentle heavenly Ratmusik to all the green corners of its lush pastures. Where parliaments of citizens still carry on arcane esoteric deconstructive debates over the “true” meaning of “Do The Rat” and it’s global implications to the coming US elections particularly with regard to the swing states of Pennsylvania and Wisconsin wherever the fuck that is.

So..thank you for all the fun of COB and hello to Ratsite 2. If you think it’s crap you’ll let us know and remember Pete is the one to blame..

Rat On..

BG xxx

#bob geldof #the boomtown rats #boomtown rats #citizens of boomtown #ratsofficial #bob

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terraxtant · 2 months ago

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Christian Grimaldi / Archangel

CHARACTER FORM

OVERVIEW

FULL NAME: Christian Grimaldo

CURRENT ALIAS: Archandel

TITLE : HSH Christian II of Grimaldi, Heir Apparent to the throne of Monaco

NICKNAMES:

ADDITIONAL ALIASES:

BIRTHDAY: 1995

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Hetrosexual

PRONOUNS: His/Him

CITIZENSHIP:

SPECIES: Homo Superior/ Mutant

AFFILIATION: X-Men

BASE OF OPERATIONS: Monaco

APPEARANCE & PHYSICALITY

ETHNICITY: Caucasian

ACCENT: Southern French

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HAIR: wavy, dark brown

EYES: brown

BODY: Christian is tall, lean, and well-built . At 6'5 Christian tends to tower over over people and his muscular physique also helps with cement his image of being celestial and heavenly as an Archangel.

UNUSUAL FEATURES: Has white angel wings with a span of 16-ft expanding from his back.

STYLE: Christian's style is very classic, old world, European- lots of tailored clothes, casmare and Marino wool sweaters, and classic time pieces. He does not wear fast fashion and prefers high-quality clothing and items as opposed to what's trending- a lot of brunello cucinelli, eton, Hermès, etc. Christian is also not the kind of person to wear prints or any article of clothing with words - he tends to go for solid, muted colors in terms of the range of colors.

FACECLAIM: Tom Ellis

PERSONALITY

Christian is rather quiet on the whole, always seemingly calm and collected. Like his grandfather, Christian is pragmatic, cautious, and rather conservative.

Those who truly know him know of his ongoing insecurities regarding his wings. Rarely ever in the public eye growing up, Christian was always withdrawn and aloof, unsure of how others would perceive him due to his wings. These insecurities are rooted in his grandfather's rejection of his mutant nature.

Specifically, after meeting Rosaria Huntington in 2019, Christian began to undergo a drastic change in personality. Rosaria somehow had triggered his other latent mutations, forcing Christian and his grandfather to confront the reality of Christian being a mutant. That also meant that his grandfather also had to confront the reality of his grandson being a mutant.

Over time, Christian has become a lot more outspoken and confident. He is no longer afraid to speak his mind, although he still is pragmatic and chooses when best to reveal his true thoughts and feelings as per the situation. But most of all, he's accepted that his grandfather will never accept him for who he is.

Apart from this, Christian is also exceedingly loyal, almost fanatical at times. This is seen especially with his relationship with Rosaria, whom he regards to be a divine being and refuses to see her as anything less and erases all her flaws and insecurities in his mind. Similarly, he tends to have exceedingly favorable and exceedingly unfavorable views of people, based on his own perceptions of them. There is no in between and gray areas with Christian. No doubt, that tends to rub a lot of people the wrong way.

POWERS & ABILITIES

Christian has angel wings that extend from his back. When fully extended, his wings span around 16 ft. These wings, along with his hollow bone structure allow him to fly to extreme heights and at extreme speeds - specifically, reaching and in rare cases beating the speed of sound. He also tends to be resistant to extreme pressure and temperature and can survive in spaces with very low to no oxygen for prolonged periods.

In their normal state, his wings are snow-white. However, when desired Christian is able to organically change them to exceedingly durable organic metal that can cut through the hardest of surfaces and is resistant to heat and magnetic forces.

He is also possesses the regenerative healing factor that enables him to heal himself exceedingly fast. Additionally, Christian also has superhuman strength and sight up to 1000 miles in range. Interestingly, Christian's blood can also be used to heal others.

A secondary ability that Christian inherited from his mother's side of the family allows him to manupilate kinetic energy through his wings and make them explode at targets at will. Additionally, he is also able to sense changes and disturbances in the cosmic balance and at times has glimpses of premonitions - as demonstrated with Christian seeing reccuring images of Rosaria channeling the Phoenix as she awakened.

RELATIONSHIPS

MATERNAL FAMILY

Princess Christina Grimaldi (deceased)

Born to the Greek royal family, Princess Christina was married to Prince Charles VI of Monaco and was the mother of Prince Christian Grimaldi. She died while he was still an infant and therefore, Christian has no memories or attachments to her.

In general, he is not close with his maternal family and rarely ever interacts or sees them. They are interestingly enough,descendants of the Medici in Italy, most famously, Catherine de Medici. Because of this, his maternal family do have several witches, Catherine de Medici being the most famous. As a result of this, he also has inherited some aspects of magical abilities and some resistance to the effects of magic in general.

PATERNAL FAMILY

Christian's paternal family is close-knit and is limited to his grandfather at this point with whom his relationship is quite strained.

King Charles V of Monaco

King Charles V of Monaco is the current King of Monaco and is also the father to Charles VI , and the grandfather to Christian Grimaldi.

King Charles V is exceedingly private and conservative in his thoughts - he is a traditionalist and believes that the activities of monarchy should be beyond the public sphere. He has long criticized his grandson's public pursuit of mutant rights advocacy and strongly dislikes the fact that his grandson's mutation is so visible.

Christian has a very, very strained relationship with his grandfather because of this. Most of his insecurities regarding his wings root in his grandfather's rejection of his mutation since an early age.

Prince Charles VI of Monaco

Son of Charles V of Monaco, and his heir apparent. Charles VI was married to his betrothed, Princess Christina of Greece and is the father of Princs Christian Grimaldim Charles VI died shortly after Christian's birth in a sailing accident with his wife. Because of this, Christian has no real memories or attachments towards him either

FRIENDSHIPS

EXTENDED FAMILY

Rosaria Huntington

Christian's relationship with Rosaria Huntington is rather odd. His relationship with her is based on his relationship with her astral projection during a time when Rosaria herself was under a telepathic-induced comma. In summary, his relationship with Rosaria's astral projection, therefore, wasn't even the 'real' Rosaria, so to speak - it was the Phoenix.

When Christian sees Rosaria's astral projection channel the Phoenix, Christian equates it to be a divine moment wherein she was transformed into her true divine form. Christian takes a lot of strength from this moment, interpreting it as a way of accepting himself as a mutant as opposed to hiding it. This serves as a turning point in his life.

Since then, Christian finds it to be his purpose in life to serve and protect Rosaria Huntington in any way that he can, much to her annoyance.

Alexander Mastronadi

Alex is exceedingly irritated by Christian. He finds Christian's devotion to Rosaria uncomfortable and, on the whole, finds him to be disingenuous.

From Christian's perspective, obviously, there is no love lost. Christian detests the closeness and intimacy between Rosaria and Alex and feels that no sentient being should have that close of a relationship with her in order to help her preserve her neutrality, allowing her not to get swayed by emotion.

He also, in general, finds Alex to be cold, brooding , and far too pessimistic in nature and is not afraid to criticize his strategic decisions on and off the field.

ROMANCE

Princess Amalia of Denmark

Christian's former wife - they had a pleasant relationship until she was consumed by Selike. While Selike could utilize her body and memories to impersonate her, Christian could detect the change in her aura - that is really what led to the deterioration of their relationship. They began to see each other less and less, until she finally disappeared all together and Christian never gave her another thought.

That was until Rosaria Huntington revealed to him several years later that his wife had been one of Selike's victims. Since the relevation, Christian perception of his late wife is very different - she's often on his mind. Christian also feels extremely guilty for her health and blames himself for not digging deeper into the case when he first noticed the change in her aura.

HISTORY

Christian was the only child of Charles I and Clarise of Monaco, making him the heir apparent to the throne of Monaco. His parents died subsequently after his death as a result of a sailing accident.

Christian grew up how you'd expect the heir to one of the richest royal houses to - he grew up with a diamond-encrusted spoon in his mouth. Materially, he had no wants. He was private schooled by his tutors on account of his wings and his grandfather's desire to keep the "deformity " concealed.

Christian rarely left the his palace in Monaco and because of that, he remained largely isolated from the events of the world and remained committed to living the life laid out for him - marry his betrothed, succeed his grandfather and become the king of Monaco, live a life without controversy and speculation.

At the age of 21, Christian was married to his betrothed, Princess Amalia of Denmark. Their marriage was peaceful and quiet. Shortly after their marriage, they embarked on a world tour, meeting various leaders and dignitaries. On one of their stops in Denmark, they attended a gala in Copenhagen. When they returned to the hotel room, Christian noticed that something was odd about Princess Amalia. He could feel that she was not the same and something had fundamentally changed, although he could not put his finger on it.

From this moment, their relationship took a turn for the worse - although their interactions were pleasant and they remained in close proximity with each other, Christian could tell something was not right and any affection he held for his wife steadily evaporated.

In 2019, Christian happened to be in Greenwich, Connecticut, for an investor meeting with the managing partner of one of the worlds most successful hedge funds - Stephen Huntington. It just so happened that he crossed paths with his daughter, Rosaria Huntington, at the time.

The meeting with Rosaria Huntington, although brief, left him permanently changed. It was as if something within him had been awakened. Apart from his wings, Christian began to experience odd things - he grew significantly stronger and resistant to aging and injuries. His senses also became heightened, and the range of his eyesight grew significantly. But perhaps the most significant change was that he seemingly could see people's auras. And when he met his wife again, Christian was struck by the thick black aura around her. He never saw his wife ever again after that.

Over the next few years, Christian's life was changed forever. His wings, which were previously small enough for him to fold away discreetly, grew significantly. His metabolism also increased significantly, as did his strength and his sight.

At night, Christian was plauged by the same dream - Rosaria Huntington screaming for help, her body seemingly made of light. One night, 2023, however, the dreams changed - she no longer screamed for help. Her body was still made of light, her eyes a pale lavender, and her hair replaced by strands of cosmic flames. In his dream, Christian saw Rosaria Huntington change from a human to a "being of light."

Unable to understand this, Christin began his journey to find Rosaria Huntington, only to learn that she was dead. However, Christian never believed this due to the vividness of his dreams and began to delve further and further into who she was and why he had those dreams.

As time passed , Christian began reading into the dreams further and further. He found Rosaria's channeling to he incredibly inspiring and began to take it as a sign of starting to accept his own mutations and began to be increasingly public with his own mutant abilities, and also began to vocalize his advocacy for mutant rights globally, despite his grandfather's disapproval.

During this time, Christian also came across the Order and slowly began to connect the dots between what the Order was and who the manifestation of the Phoenix was. Soon enough, Christian was able to triangulate the Order's activities to Northern Jutland. This was confirmed once Rosaria left the Order and returned to L-Mansion of course. Rosaria's return to L-Mansion also prompted Christian to formally join the X-Men in hopes of repaying Rosaria for inspiring him to accept his own mutant abilities and mutant status.

TRIVIA

Suspected to be descendants of Cheyarafim mutants - an ancient race of mutants who were famously denoted by angelic-looking wings and the ability to self-heal and heal others.

#[by anna]#[all edits]#[graphics]#[posters]#[ ch: christian grimaldi ]

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hiswordsarekisses · 2 months ago

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“But whatever was gain to me I count as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things as loss compared to the surpassing excellence of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God on the basis of faith. I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to Him in His death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize of God’s heavenly calling in Christ Jesus. All of us who are mature should embrace this point of view. And if you think differently about some issue, God will reveal this to you as well. Nevertheless, we must live up to what we have already attained. Join one another in following my example, brothers, and carefully observe those who walk according to the pattern we set for you. For as I have often told you before, and now say again even with tears: Many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and their glory is in their shame. Their minds are set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables Him to subject all things to Himself, will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body.” Philippians‬ ‭3‬:‭7‬-‭21‬

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sealmonger · 4 months ago

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Ephesians 2

Made Alive in Christ

As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh[a] and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Jew and Gentile Reconciled Through Christ

Therefore, remember that formerly you who are Gentiles by birth and called “uncircumcised” by those who call themselves “the circumcision” (which is done in the body by human hands)— remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, excluded from citizenship in Israel and foreigners to the covenants of the promise, without hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations. His purpose was to create in himself one new humanity out of the two, thus making peace, and in one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit.

Footnotes

a. Ephesians 2:3 In contexts like this, the Greek word for flesh (sarx) refers to the sinful state of human beings, often presented as a power in opposition to the Spirit.

#christian #christianity #bible verse #bible passage #ephesians #ephesians 2 #ephesians is one of my favorite books ofthe bible #of the*#its just so comforting to me #highly recommend reading all of it #i highly recommend reading all of the bible #God bless you all

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haereticus · 1 month ago

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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐄 𝐃'𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐎 ...

𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝… 【 rachel sennott //. cis woman //. she/her 】 welcome, ROSALINE D'ANGELO. you have successfully been loaded into THE HUB. according to our records, you are TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD and have held citizenship for FOUR YEARS in the barrier city, neo california. your key attributes have been identified as EASY-GOING and RUDDERLESS. please confirm your CHAOTIC NEUTRAL status to proceed. our data indicates that you are currently employed with INFERNO CASINO AS A CROUPIER //. SŌWAKATSU-KAI AS A SHATEI. for your safety and security, it is crucial that all background information is accurate. further analysis of our archives highlights your alignment with BUZZCUT SEASON BY LORDE. ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ verification 100% complete. please adhere to all local regulations and laws during your stay. we trust that your time here will be both fulfilling and safe.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

full name. rosaline elizabeth d'angelo. nickname(s). rosie. gender & pronouns. cis woman & she/her. date of birth. september 29, 2118. age. twenty-six. hometown. neo california. current residence. neo california. nationality. american. occupation. croupier. affiliation. inferno casino / sōwakatsu-kai. education. high school diploma + two semesters of a bachelor of fine arts.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.

positive traits. offbeat, creative, easy-going, self-assured, amiable. negative traits. impulsive, rudderless, lazy, deceitful, irresolute. mbti. esfp-a ( the entertainer ). enneagram. type seven ( the enthusiast ). moral alignment. chaotic neutral. deadly sin. sloth. heavenly virtue. humility. western zodiac. libra. parallels. maeby funke, arrested development / mordecai, regular show / fleabag, fleabag / sokka, avatar: the last airbender / ilana wexler, broad city / pj, bottoms.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

tw: alcohol & drug use, parental abandonment, tomfoolery

You never meet your mother. Well, this isn’t technically true – but you don’t remember the woman, so it might as well be. You like to think that, maybe, when you were a newborn – kicking and screaming and red as a tomato – that maybe, she had swaddled you in blankets and tucked you close to her chest. That, maybe, she had felt something akin to love. That, maybe, she would feel a pang of regret at the actions she would soon take. Of course, you can never be certain – nowadays, you don’t even remember her face. Erin O’Connell had abandoned her family on a cold winter’s evening – leaving behind a three-month-old baby girl, a son not yet old enough for school, and a husband who had seemed to genuinely adore her. She had packed a bag in the middle of the night and left town – no note, no goodbye. Her husband imagined she’d return one day – her photos remained on the walls, the police were notified, and the front door left unlocked every night in case his darling wife ever decided to come home. She didn’t, and in your earliest recollections, the photos are gone. The woman who birthed you no more than a ghost who once knew her.

Your childhood, beyond the unexpected abandonment of your mother, is relatively unremarkable. Your father works several low-paying jobs to make ends meet. He moves you and your brother around several apartments in NEW YORK as you grow up – each one shittier than the last. You spend most afternoons in the care of your grandparents, or your aunts, or your friends’ parents, while your father breaks his back to make ends meet. You want to make him proud, but you are never a particularly bright child. They will later diagnose you with something called ADHD – but nobody at your elementary school bothers to think of the loudmouthed, fidgeting, distractible, vulgar child at the back of the class as anything but a nuisance. As a result, you never do particularly well in school. You say this does not bother you, but each failing grade feels like a knife to the heart. Another disappointing stain on your family name. You try and you try, and still, you fail. Eventually, you realize the only course of action is to stop trying altogether. At least then the sting of failure won’t be quite as sharp.

Whilst you may not be academically gifted, you are a creative child – in more ways than one. Art class is the only place you ever truly excel – you learn to paint and sculpt and draw at a young age with the limited resources available to you at your elementary school. It is a way to express yourself that doesn’t require the written word, and it captures your attention in a way that nothing else does. You are also an imaginative child. When you realise you won’t be winning your peers’ respect through your intellect, you switch tactics. You decide to make them laugh. You lie to them, because real life is never very funny. You sharpen your tongue into a weapon – your wit becomes your greatest asset, a way for you to deflect from what you view as your other flaws. It works to an extent – you toe the line between amusing and annoying like an acrobat.

In all honesty, college had never seemed particularly attainable to you. By the time you near the end of high school, you have ceased to apply yourself in any way that doesn’t involve a paintbrush. Your grades are abysmal, and you spend more time smoking in your friends’ parents’ basements than you do trying to improve them. And yet, your art teacher insists you send your portfolio out to various colleges. You never know, she says. You do it because she is the only adult left who believes in you. You’re not sure whether she’s a psychic, or whether you’re extremely lucky – but, somehow, your portfolio is enough to earn you a spot at a relatively prestigious university. It should have been everything you wanted – studying art, painting and drawing all day, every day. But it isn’t. College is hard. Your art gets picked apart by people who claim to know better, and you flunk out of art theory. You can’t hack it. You drop out after two semesters.

At twenty years old, you are unemployed, homeless, and a university dropout. The next two years are spent completing odd jobs – shop attendant, bartender, personal assistant, hairdressing apprentice. All are short-lived, and generally end with your termination report reading incompetence. You sleep on the couches of friends before landing yourself a more permanent arrangement. You don’t know how you manage to convince a girl with her own apartment to go out with you – but you do, and you quickly make yourself at home in her penthouse place. You contribute to rent where you can – though you are rarely able to hold a job for more than a week or two. We’ll call this relationship what it was: a bail out. A salvation from homelessness, or worse, from admitting defeat and moving back in with your father. She must see something in you, something that isn’t completely hopeless, because she lets you stay.

Even saints have their breaking points, though. Countless promises have been made and broken – to get a job, to pay rent, to stop drinking and smoking. You don’t know why you are the way you are – but each broken promise numbs you to the next one. Each terminated contract steels your resolve. Failure tastes a lot sweeter when you convince yourself you never cared at all. Eventually, your girlfriend offers an ultimatum – and when it comes to pass, you are back out on the streets with barely a dollar to your name. You are twenty-two, unemployed, homeless, and entirely broke. You haven’t a hope in the world. Not in New York, anyway.

You tell yourself NEO CALIFORNIA will be a fresh start. The other side of the country, where nobody knows your name, where nobody knows what an abysmal loser you really are. You spend your last few dollars on a plane ticket and embark on your new life. You tell yourself you’ll get a real job, a real apartment, make real friends and be a real functioning member of society. And, to your credit, this is exactly what you intend to do when you seek employment at the INFERNO CASINO. And, for the first few months this is what you do. You collect your paycheques, show up on time, annoy the heck out of your coworkers, but, overall, do a pretty good job. Alas, as it tends to, ruination soon comes for you. And, as it tends to be, your demise is self-made.

You hadn’t planned on stealing from the house. But it occurs to you during a shift that they have so much money, and you have so little. You are living on the couch of an elderly man you found on the internet. Your sneakers are falling apart, and your clothes are wearing thin. You’ve been living off instant ramen for months, and you can barely afford to keep yourself alive. So, you skim a little off the top. Not much – just enough for a nice hot meal. A few dollars, at most. The next shift, you take a little more – you count cards and cheat the players out of their winnings. This is enough for some new shoes. The next week, you’re buying a designer handbag you decidedly do not need. You honestly don’t know how you get away with it for as long as you do – but you soon find yourself being called into the office of HANEUL SEON, and you know what he is going to say before you even sit down.

See, most casinos would have simply fired you – but you have made on glaring miscalculation. The owner of the casino is affiliated with the SŌWAKATSU-KAI, and, apparently, they don’t take kindly to thievery. He presents you with two options: you will pay with your loyalty or your life. You’re not completely stupid, so you quickly find yourself being sworn in as a SHATEI of the most notorious Yakuza gang in America. No big deal, though. At least Haneul didn’t fire you. So, this is where we find you: twenty-six years old, college dropout, employed by the Yakuza to cheat rich men out of their stolen dollars. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really. It’s not as bad as it sounds, right?

#introduction.#introduction. rosaline

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 19 days ago

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Living His Word

Only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life will enter the city. — Revelation 21:27

This past year my wife and I had several conversations in which we were astonished to realize that although we thought some event or activity happened a year or so ago, it had actually taken place 3 or 4 years ago. We decided the lost years of COVID were to blame and all the chaos that came with those years. Unfortunately, for far too many people, these past few years have been a time of lost hope—a lost hope for the present as well as for the future. Too many feel that hope has been canceled in their hearts.

However, hope has never been and never will be lost or cancelled for the Christian. In Exodus 32:32 we find the first mention of God's book of life. It is a divine ledger of the citizens of the kingdom community—God's people of Israel. The passage speaks also of some who have sinned against God, and there is a blotting out of those names from the book. Such action by God in the erasing of names from the ledger indicates a loss of citizenship and fellowship with God. But the good news is that for those in Christ our citizenship is in heaven, and so we eagerly await the Lord's return from heaven (Philippians 3:20). Our names are written in the divine ledger of heaven known as the Lamb's book of life. I recently heard a pastor liken this truth of becoming and being a Christian to when God cuts a name from the book of life and then pastes it into the Lamb's book of life.

Wherein the Old Testament book of life implies privilege and the partaking in temporary blessings from God's kingdom, the Lamb's book of life does not imply, but rather ensures those in Christ of partaking in the present and eternal blessings of God's heavenly kingdom. Such is the blessed faith and hope of the true Christian (Hebrews 11:1). Heaven, not earth, is our hope as believers. Heaven is our victory. As Jesus told us: "Let not your heart be troubled, you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions, if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you" (John 14:1-2).

Beloved of Christ, putting one's hope in people or in the fleeting things of the world will only lead to lost years and regret for what you could have done for Christ. Instead, let your hope of eternity be your joy. Set your heart above as a heavenly-minded person whose citizenship is in the kingdom of heaven and whose name shall never be blotted out of the Lamb's book of life.

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holycityoflove · 2 months ago

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The Holy City of God

The Kingdom of His Sovereignty which my Father is establishing in the hearts of his earth children will become an eternal and everlasting dominion throughout the Earth.

Once set up, His rule in each and every heart will raise all the humanity into His perfect harmony and order.

All kingdoms shall bow down unto this Universal Spirit and Creative Source.

There shall be this never-ending and continuous dominion of my Father in the hearts of only those who desire to do his divine will.

And as this is the fact that I share with thee, only the meek, the humble and receptive, the contrite and thirsty shall inherit the Earth and all therein; for the Earth shall become raised into Her rightful place and position within this solar and galactic setting.

I say unto thee, my beloved children, that my Paradise Father is not confined by human organization, nor is He limited by dogmatic concepts in the minds of human beings. He is not the God only of this religion or that sect.

All are welcomed into His Kingdom of Light, insofar as ye make thine decision to enter therein, and ye are willing and cooperative .. eager and athirst to attain the living of His Will and Plan.

All those receptive of my Father God shall come to sit down with us in the Father’s Kingdom, and yet, many shall refuse to enter this next two thousand year cycle wherein the omnipotence of His Love and Life shall reign supreme.

Humanity shall experience interacting with the living network of His Supremacy…the Host of Heaven…and the Order of the Immortal Ones.

My Father shall rule within all; for His spirit shall take up fuller residence in the hearts and minds, and bodies of the children of men.

The power of His Sovereign Kingdom shall be comprised of the establishing of His glory…the living glory of His spirit which presides directly with each living soul and personality.

This living spirit shall teach those receptive minds and will overtake rule within the hearts of the populace of this heavenly kingdom.

The newly-found sons of God shall find themselves walking in a brotherhood of mercy wherein righteousness reigns over all supremely.

Thine civilization shall become righteous and knowledgeable regarding the gift of free will. Peace and acceptance for any differences shall be reinstituted first in the soul of each personality, and then, it will be externalized in all the systems of this world.

Thine race shall be made to evolve and mature in a more unlimited fashion. His Kingdom and Sovereignty is the fulfillment of all good men and women throughout all time and space within this planetary sphere.

It is the everpresent hope of all and every Kingdom within this Earth. It will be the completion of a certain octave or frequency wherein all will have a greater ease and chance to graduate and complete their rounds of expression by preparing themselves for the Second Birth into Universal Citizenship and God Immortality.

Christ Michael Of Nebadon

University Of Salvington

Absolutum Charitas Ab Origine

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lukas-clost · 2 months ago

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BD&H chapter 3

Masterpost Wattpad Quotev Ao3 ch. 2 | x | ch. 4

Summary: The monsters have been on the surface for a few years now, and even after being legally given citizenship, humans are still wary of them.

When monsters start disappearing, their dust is swept under the carpet even as the Ebott City Police Department try their best to get to the bottom of it. Then humans start disappearing and citizens revolt against what looks like retaliation. Kate, an independent, newly recruited detective, decides to take matters into her own hands when her superiors fail to make sufficient progress.

With the help of the other recruits and her new monster friends, she’ll have to find the culprit lest she lose both her job and the rights of monsterkind.

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, mild swearing

3. Flurried Fondant

Mind games, flatulence, and missed understandings. Also, cheesecake is heavenly!

My adoptive dad was—is—a good person, but he wasn’t someone I was particularly excited to meet in a formal setting. Or any setting, really.

I had responded immediately, explaining that the meeting would have to happen either before eight or after ten because of a fixed appointment—the monster lessons at the University—and he said a brunch with his daughter would be more relaxing for the both of us. I couldn’t disagree, and the conversation ended there.

For him, at least.

I was panicking as I searched through my wardrobe. Knowing him, we’d be meeting some place really high end and they would probably have a dress code. I rummaged through the space, looking for something, anything, that would be comfortable to wear, but still appease him. My alarm forced me away from the pile of clothes to shut it off.

I had ten more minutes to get to the bus station if I wanted to make it to work on time.

I grimaced at the sight of my room; future me would definitely hate current me, but there was no time. I slung my bag over my shoulder, unsure if I even had everything but not really having the time to check as I rushed to make it to the bus on time. The trip was much shorter than usual and I blinked in surprise as I entered the building.

Flynn found me kind of loitering in the atrium and led me to one of the rooms upstairs. “Joint lesson on forensics today. Are you okay?”

I internally scolded myself. I was making such a big deal out of nothing. Taking in a deep breath, I gave Flynn a smile and a nod even as my stomach twisted in apprehension for Saturday. He gave me a look before letting go of me at the door of the room. Everyone who was learning already seemed to be inside waiting, and I cursed my luck at finding the only free spot next to Lucinda.

As I sat down, I briefly wondered if her dad would have also asked to meet up with her on the weekend. My face twisted in tandem with my stomach and I laid my head on the table to concentrate on my breaths, ignoring thoughts of the possibility of a joint brunch with Lucinda and her dad.

At the sound of one of the officer’s ringing voices, I lifted my head, ignoring the look Cinder was giving me and trying to focus on whatever introductions they seemed to be doing.

I prayed that my dad wouldn’t bring any of his business friends that he would introduce me to. For the longest time, he really thought the presence of his work friends in my everyday life would make me interested in the supposed family business and I would take over instead of Jacob who had surprised everyone by going to study policing. It had been an even more surprising day when I had made the same decision, shocking the men in my family into silence while my mom tried consoling me on the phone.

“Katherine.”

I started at my name and looked around the room to see who had called. Everyone was either listening diligently to the officer at the front or were writing on a notepad. Were we supposed to be taking notes? I looked at the empty space in front of me and started rummaging through my bag, hoping that I had brought something to write with. When I couldn’t feel anything past the clothes for tonight and my bottle, my writhing stomach was interrupted by Lucinda nudging me. I looked at her in surprise. I should have known it was her. No one else called me that.

She passed me her notepad and I was about to thank her when I read what she had written.

‘No notepad? You’re making this competition too easy.’

Figured. I responded in kind before passing it back to her. She didn’t bother reading what I wrote and instead flipped the page where another note was written down.

‘Go to the bathroom. You look constipated.’

I glared at the notepad, thinking of the most obnoxious response I could give her when I realised that going to the bathroom might actually be a good idea. I excused myself and found the nearest one, glaring at my reflection after I had washed and dried my face and hands.

It was only Wednesday, for crying out loud! I swear I had more self-control than this, and a brunch with dad, with anyone, was literally nothing to get so worried about. Especially when I was a fully capable adult with an almost-job that would make any father proud. With new resolve and a slightly settled stomach, I went back to the room.

Where I almost immediately started panicking that my dad would find a way to pull me out of the programme. It would be exactly like him to wait until the last moment, when his victims think they’re safe and comfortable and then he’d swoop down and show them otherwise. Oh gaw, what if he wanted to break the news to me himself to see my reaction, to provide an immediate place of work where he could trap me under his business wing and there would be no way for me to get out—

“Kate?”

I looked up at Flynn, my train of thought broken as he waited for my reaction. A glance at everyone else in the room told me that they were waiting for me too. Daniel shot me a quizzical look and I realised that Flynn had probably asked me something.

“Up dog?”

A few chuckles rang out before Flynn excused himself from the room, taking me with him. He led me to the break room, a place void of people when it was so far from lunch. Sitting down at the only table, I hesitantly followed suit before he let his concern show through his face.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

He gave me the same look he did when he had brought me to the room earlier; he didn’t believe me one bit.

“Then how come you’re so—” he waved his arms in search of a suitable word— “out of it?”

“You’re the one who pulled me out of the room,” I joked. He gave me a flat look, unamused and unappreciative of my efforts.

“C’mon, Kate. You know you can talk to me, right?”

I did. He’s been around my family for as long as I could remember and shared enough meals with us that he’d understand exactly what I was going through. The explanation formed on my tongue, ready to be said, but I hesitated. Even if I did tell him, there wasn’t much he could do save for giving me false assurances that the brunch wouldn’t end up as bad as I was imagining. Besides, I’d made it this far in life without having to say much of anything, why start now?

I shut my mouth and nodded giving him my best smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to wrap my head around all the forensics...”

He hummed, an amused expression on his face. “Okay. You can figure them out at Muffet’s.”

“What?” My smile dropped.

“You’re going to pick up my order and you’re not coming back until you can focus.”

“I—” a snort escaped me at his choice of words. “Why does it feel like I’ve just been grounded?”

“I’m trying to ground you, is all,” he snickered. I rolled my eyes even as my own smile formed on my face.

“You have your driver’s license, right?” I nodded my head and he rummaged through his pockets before placing his car keys in my hand.

“Now git.” He pointed to the open door and I chuckled, not quite moving to leave just yet. I twisted the keys in my hands.

“Won’t I miss something important, though?”

“Do you even know what we’ve been discussing for the past two hours?” He gave me a cool smile and I had to nod my head in defeat. I couldn’t even believe two hours had already passed. Maybe I really did need to go to Muffet’s.

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you pay for my sweets.” He had a serious expression on his face, but I knew he was joking. I hoped he was, at least. In any case, I would definitely pay him back later; Muffet’s was nothing cheap.

“I’m not that sorry,” I giggled.

“Fine. Then hurry up. Muffet’s expecting me.”

“Expecting you? Like a date?” I teased.

“With that old hag? No.”

“Does she know you talk about her like that?” I asked, leaning toward him on the table with a devious smirk on my face.

A panicked look crossed his face before he relaxed again. “Course.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it up then.” I laughed as I finally went down the stairs, Flynn promising bloody murder if I said anything.

It was nice joking around with him, but as I sat in the silence of his car, adjusting the mirrors, I couldn’t help but remember my appointment with my dad. All my anxieties came back tenfold and my stomach became more restless than it had been already. I considered just taking a nap in the car, the reprieve of sleep removing my waking anxieties a tempting offer, but brushed the thought aside as I still had to get Flynn’s order.

When I finally got to the street Muffet’s was on, I didn’t exit the car immediately, my hands still resting on the wheel as I tried to calm myself down. My stomach writhed with nerves that didn’t want to leave and I breathed deeply to quell the feeling of nausea rising in my throat. It was only Wednesday, there was still time to prepare, there was no real reason to be so anxious, and yet��

Eventually, I stepped out of the car, not wanting to take too long an excursion—I was after all, still missing some vital information back at Central. My shoulders immediately relaxed as I entered the comforting warmth of the café. The gentle sound of soul music coming from the speakers combined with the murmurs of conversation made me forget my troubles momentarily as I waited in line to order.

Flynn said I could get something for myself if I needed to, so I searched the chalkboard menu by the side for something appealing. By the time I was at the front of the line, I hadn’t found anything I really wanted so I dismissed the idea in favour of giving my attention to Muffet.

“Hello dearie. What can I get for you today?”

“I’m here to pick up Flynn’s order?”

Her eyes lit up briefly at the mention of the name before being replaced by a look of recognition. She smiled at me warmly before the corners of her lips tugged downwards slightly. “He’s not coming in today?”

I shook my head in answer, an apologetic smile on my lips.

“Well, that’s a shame. I was hoping he’d keep me better company.” She shot a venomous look at the hooded monster leaning against the counter. They gave her a lazy wink in return and she rolled her eyes, her attention back to me. I smirked; there definitely had to be something going on between the two, or at the very least, they had to have had some history. Time to activate nosy sibling mode.

“You and Flynn sound close,” I commented, leaning against the counter in a friendly manner, similar to the other monster.

“Well, he does know the way to a lady’s heart,” she giggled.

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded in answer, giggling as she tapped the almost overflowing tip jar. A wicked smile took form on my face as I decided to mess with Flynn.

“Is it also by calling them old hags?”

The monster beside me snorted before quickly covering their laughs in their drink as Muffet’s face hardened instantly. I suddenly regretted saying anything, my smile vanishing as her glare was directed at me.

“Pardon, dear?”

“Uh—”

“Never mind.” She waved away my stammers and her face softened as she took me in properly. I sighed in relief, noting to not get on her bad side as I watched her face light up in mischief, a pair of arms moving to clean her glasses. “I’ll just ask him on Friday. What was it that you wanted?”

“His order?”

She rolled her eyes, hiding a quiet titter behind one of her many hands as another one replaced the glasses. “Aside from that, sweetie.”

“That’s all?”

“Are you sure?” She gave me a sweet smile and started playing with something in her hands.

“I couldn’t find anything I wanted.”

“Really? Because I think you deserve a treat.” Her grin looked more mischievous and I glanced back at her busy hands. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be Flynn’s credit card and I wondered when she had taken it. A laugh bubbled out of me as I realised what she was playing at. Shaking my head, I asked her what she suggested.

One side of her arms gestured to the hoodie clad monster to my right. They turned toward me and grinned, their skeletal features moving as easily as the skin on a human face. I watched as their eyes squinted, the faint lights in them flickering all over me as they brought their hands up to make a caricature of a camera.

A soft laugh escaped me at the theatrics as they further lowered themself as if to consider me from different angles. I had no idea what they were playing at, but when a customer behind me cleared their throat, I quickly stepped out of line, the comfortable relaxation that had fallen over me moving away as well.

I really shouldn’t be taking as much time as I was.

I looked back at the line of three people—Muffet was making quick work of them, reducing the line to nothing again—before looking back at the skeleton monster. They were wearing a pair of Groucho glasses and the sudden change in appearance had a surprised bout of laughter escaping me. They looked at me blankly as I tried to calm down, remembering I was in a public space and shouldn’t be making a spectacle of myself. But then they leaned forward as they squinted at me through the glasses, as if trying to see me properly, and I had to excuse myself to the bathroom, the uncontrollable laughter wracking my body near impossible to stop.

I splashed water on my face to shock myself into serenity, but the genuine smile that graced my features as I looked at myself in the mirror did a much better job. I grimaced at the mess that was my cornrows, flyaway hairs windswept and making it look much messier than it actually was. I made a new alarm on my phone—make a hair appointment—before looking back at myself in the mirror. The emblem on my left breast reminded me of the meeting I had with my dad and the previous anxieties that had been swept away in the flow of the music came back tenfold. I wiped a tired hand down my face, taking care of my nose piercing, before drying it with some tissue and leaving the bathroom.

The pair of them stopped their conversation when I came back, Muffet looking to the other monster expectantly who, thankfully, had their glasses removed.

“Lavender cream cheese puffs,” they said, making the same picture frame as before. Another smile crept up on me as the atmosphere calmed me down again.

“And liquorice root.” They dropped their hands and looked at Muffet proudly. Muffet, on the other hand, was giving them a deadpan look. She sighed, leaning against the counter.

“I have none of those things on hand, and you know I don’t do teas.” The other monster scoffed, but a smirk still played at their lips. Teeth?

“Gonna doubt me now, Muffs?” All five of her eyes blinked up at them slowly before she stood up straight and moved to the cash register.

“Lavender-lemon cheesecake and peppermint cider with a special order of lavender puffs.” She rang up the total and I barely had time to see the price before it was cleared away. She didn’t even bother with a receipt before handing me the card back with a smile. “I’ll have your order ready in a jiffy! You want it here, or to go?”

I considered taking it to go, but the writhing in my stomach hadn’t completely abated and I knew I would be wasting everybody’s time if I went back to Central now. With a smile, I told her I’d have it here before she disappeared to the back room and I went searching for an empty seat.

It was the middle of the working week in the middle of the morning, so the establishment wasn’t too full. I found a vacant table in the corner of the shop and sat down as I waited for my order. The cozy atmosphere did wonders to my nerves, but I couldn’t help but think about how similar the set up would be when meeting my dad. Granted, it would be a lot fancier with a lot of unnecessary décor. I started imagining the snobby nature of the other patrons that would be in the imagined establishment, sure that their judging eyes would wander to me often and they would snicker amongst themselves.

A soft chuckle made me wince, and I whipped my head around the place in search of the offending patron, as if knowing who it was would make me feel less embarrassed. I only found the relaxed figure of the skeleton monster standing by my table, and I was reminded of where I was. I breathed deeply before offering them a soft smile.

They offered me their gloved hand, a smile on their face, and I warily reached for the greeting. A soft fart sound broke the otherwise silent encounter and my eyes widened in embarrassment. Curse my anxious stomach and its inevitable flatulence! I wanted the ground to swallow me whole, to be anywhere but here, but snickers interrupted my otherwise flustered state.

“Heh. Whoopie cushion in the hand trick,” they removed the glove, a pink whoopie cushion falling onto the table before sliding into the seat across from me. “Never gets old.”

I internally chastised myself for reacting so quickly especially with someone who seemed to like all manner of jokes. A weak laugh escaped me and their grin softened.

“Name’s Papyrus. Papyrus the skeleton.” His voice was gravelly, but slightly higher pitched than Alphys’.

“Kate,” I supplied. “The human,” I added to match his energy. His smile widened again and I almost asked how it did that. Instead, the table fell into awkward silence as I tried to think of something to say. A part of me didn’t want to have this conversation and wanted to leave as quickly as possible—not because he was monster, but because I didn’t need the anxiety of meeting new people to pile onto my worries for the weekend. But I remained, Muffet still preparing my order and the remnants of the solitary realisation I had yesterday still lingering at the back of my head.

“So, you’re a cop.” I looked up and he was nodding to the emblem on my shirt. I looked down, quelling the grimace that wanted to show before shrugging.

“In training.”

“Which station?” He asked, pulling the whoopie cushion toward himself before stuffing it in his hoodie pocket.

I was vaguely reminded of the other police stations in Ebott and the very real possibility of my having been selected to a different one for training. “Central.”

He listed his head to the side, his face taking on a more interested expression. “You meet my bro?”

“Kind of?” I answered, not really remembering the name of who was probably a skeleton monster showing us around the station, and not sure whether to call being introduced to someone without having a conversation with them ‘meeting them.’

“What’s training like?” He rested his skull in his hand, expression shifting to the lazy one I had encountered when he was suggesting the order I should get.

“Pretty boring so far. They’re making us do paperwork stuff.”

“Yeah? Bet you’d love to get on the field straight away.”

I hesitated in replying, my brows furrowing in wariness. Something about the way he said that didn’t quite sit right with me. Despite his nonchalant demeanour, I swear he almost sounded hostile, but I shook off the feeling as Muffet arrived. She placed a plate with a healthy slice of the aforementioned cheesecake on it and a mug of a swirling green-orange liquid in front of me before giving Papyrus a hard glare.

“He’s not disturbing you, is he?” Her question was directed to me despite her withering look focused on Papyrus. He didn’t react to the glare, instead gazing at the bottle of honey longingly in one of her hands.

“No?” I didn’t know what to make of him, but at least his presence forced my anxieties to focus on something else.

She considered me for a moment before placing the bottle of honey in front of him. “Okay. Just call if he does,” she said before rolling off to attend to new customers. I briefly wondered if he always caused trouble for other customers before dismissing the thought and giving my attention to the food in front of me.

I will never cease to be amazed at how the quality of monster food easily trumps the best human food humanity has to offer. My mouth salivated at the sight of the purple and yellow combination as the faint scent of lemons hit my nose. It had the same effect every single time. I sighed into my seat, the magic already doing wonders to my body as the sweet citrus taste lingered on my tongue. Quiet snickers from across me reminded me that I wasn’t alone and I composed myself before taking another bite.

We sat in a more comfortable silence as I all but finished my slice of cake, longing for another one even though the back of my throat protested against anything sticky. Instead, I moved my plate aside and nursed my drink. I was pleasantly surprised to find a warmth seeping out and tickling my palms, the almost familiar feeling of magic greeting me as I simply held the mug. I watched as the golden-brown colour swirled gently with slivers of light green before taking a hesitant sip, the smell of peppermint gracing my nose.

It took everything within me not to melt into my seat again as I settled with sighing in contentment. Feeling much more relaxed, I gazed around the place, the gentle ambience washing over me tenfold before my eyes landed on Muffet. She seemed to be glaring in my general direction which sobered me up some. Her face softened once she realised I was looking and she offered me a gentle wave before attending to another customer.

I turned back to Papyrus, realising that the glare was probably for him and asked, before I could stop myself, “what’s with all the animosity?”

He shrugged, taking a sip from the bear shaped honey bottle. I tried not to stare, not to judge as I didn’t know all that much about monsters and for all I knew, this was normal, so I busied myself with my drink. I looked up when he snorted, putting the bottle down.

“Long story,” he eventually supplied.

“I’ve got time,” I answered. I didn’t. If anything, I should be heading back to the station as soon as I finished my drink, but my bouncing leg told me to stay. At least my stomach wasn’t writhing with nerves anymore.

It was only when he looked at me curiously did I realise that he might not actually want to share that story to begin with. I quickly backpedalled, afraid that I was easily overstepping my bounds. Maybe I really should be getting back.

“I mean, only if you want to share, that is.” It sounded awkward the moment I said it and I proceeded to hide my embarrassment in the still warm mug.

“Long story short,” he started, and I looked up from my drink as he spoke. “Humans don’t like pranks and Muffs don’t like annoyed customers.” He shrugged before taking a sip from the bottle.

“That’s a shame. I think practical jokes are quite humerus,” I quipped.

“Oh yeah. Real rib ticklers,” he snorted.

“Guess they were missing their funny bones, then,” I supplied, a smile forming on my face.

“Ugh. No.” He groaned and wiped at his face, hiding a smile.

“What? Are you missing your funny bone too?”

He groaned again, shaking his head in a disappointed fashion, but his smile was still present. My own widened as I relaxed into the conversation.

“You don’t like puns or something?” He shook his head again, taking a sip of honey.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’ve got a skele-ton more where that came from.”

“Ugh. Please stop.” I laughed as he rubbed at his face again. There didn’t seem to be any real annoyance in his tone and his smile only encouraged me.

“Tibia honest, I’m surprised that a skeleton monster doesn’t like skeleton puns.” I took a sip of my drink before a thought struck me. “Shit. It’s not racist or anything, is it?”

He laughed then, snickers that quickly alleviated any anxieties that wanted to creep up on me.

“Nah. Just low hanging fruit.”

“Low hanging fruit?!” I looked at him incredulously and he only offered me a shrug in response. “More like you don’t have the stomach for it.”

He groaned again and I started shooting off as many skeleton and food related puns I could come up with. Tears pricked my eyes as I tried to contain my laughter to acceptable levels as he slumped his head onto the table in defeat.

“Muffs?”

Muffet rolled over, collecting my now empty plate and cup as she waited for Papyrus to speak. It took a while for him to raise his head enough to be heard properly.

“Am I allowed to complain about the human disturbing me?”

She looked at me curiously and I shrugged, shaking out the last of my laughter. She smiled at me, all her eyes crinkling as her fangs peeked through her glossed lips and I beamed back, feeling exceptionally light.

“Nope. If anything, I should give her a discount on her lunch,” she said before rolling away.

I chuckled as I watched him slump his head back down before Muffet’s words registered. I whipped out my phone and grimaced at the time, getting up from my seat.

Flynn was not going to be pleased.

At the scraping of the chair, Papyrus sat up and offered me a lazy wave. I returned the notion, going to the counter to collect Flynn’s box of treats before rushing out and getting back to the station as quickly as possible.

It was nearing the end of lunch by the time I got back. I ignored Felix’s tuts of disapproval as I walked past him toward the stairs. I found Flynn in the boardroom by himself and awkwardly gave him his purple parcel.

“For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t come back,” he said as he took a doughnut out. I chuckled nervously as I waited for further instruction, unsure whether I should go or wait for some kind of scolding.

“Figured out the lessons?”

I blinked, not expecting that to come out of his mouth—or the morsel of food that landed on the floor. He apologised as I tried to understand what he meant. It took me a while before I realised that that was vaguely the excuse I gave him, but his expression was knowing, and he was saving me from actually talking about it. I had to admit that I felt much better than when I had first left, and even as I waited for the tell-tale signs of my stomach to remind me of my anxieties, it never came. I was still worried for Saturday, sure, but it didn’t seem as all-encompassing as it had been this morning and I only had Flynn to thank for that.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said with a soft smile.

He grinned at me, having gratefully swallowed his food before doing so, before speaking up again. “You can show me how grateful you are by paying me back.”

My smile dropped. “Yeah, I’m not that grateful.”

“Kate! Do you know how much money you spent?” I scratched at the side of my face, avoiding eye contact. “I won’t be able to go to Muffet’s at the rate you’re going!”

“That won’t be the only reason you won’t be able to go to Muffet’s,” I mumbled, remembering her murderous look when I snitched on Flynn.

“What?”

I was saved from further doom as the other recruits walked back in and took their seats. I followed suit, snagging a seat next to Daniel who gave me an inquisitive look. I shook my head and pointed to the front where Flynn begrudgingly continued where they had left off. Daniel shared me some of his notes and the rest of the day was spent uninterrupted by any anxious thoughts.

Masterpost Wattpad Quotev Ao3 ch. 2 | x | ch. 4

#undertale #undertale fanfic #writing fanfiction #undertale fanfiction #undertale au #underswap #my writing #ao3 writer #papyrus #underswap papyrus #underswap muffet #papyrus x oc #BD&H #BD&H-plot #I had wanted to make this chapter longer #oh well #lukasclost #lukaswrld

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