#is that I am surprised by things like. The gift of the magi | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hunn1e-bunn1e · 6 months ago

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Hello,I'll have saw the post Sinbad ask with dorm leader of twisted wonderland, can you do a same but with vice leader or first years group please?

Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Rook Hunt & Sebek Zigvolt - Sinbad (Magi, Aos) Male Reader

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Hey @ryu-things, you have no idea how long I've been pushing this ask back and procrastinating. I was trying to avoid it until I got done with all of the unfinished single-character asks that I have backed up, but I suddenly stumbled upon a really good song that I could use for the lyric quote. So here I am, suffering once again. (post note: somehow Lilia transitioned into Sebek 1/3 of the way through, so I'll do a part three of the first years and add Lilia there.) The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Cautionary Tales” by Jon Bellion. —Benny🐰

❝𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝕽𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉! 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖗𝖚𝖙𝖍, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓- 𝕳𝖊𝖞 𝕳𝖊𝖞, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖌, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉!~❞

. . .

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♠️ Trey has been the target of many flirtatious comments already, so you'd think he wouldn't be too flustered, right? The suggestive remarks and sexy smirks would simply roll off of him, like water off a duck's back. Except… He didn't think that [Name] would corner him up against a wall in the kitchen and whisper so close to his ear that he could feel the dampness of the world-hopper's breath. Trey didn't expect just how large the foreign king's hands would be as they engulfed his waist. The Vice Dorm Head didn't take into account that [Name] would treat him with such respect yet be so blunt with his desire. By the Seven, is this even legal?

♠️ Considering that the Queen of Hearts was well… the Queen of Hearts, Trey isn't too surprised at [Name] being the king of an entire country back in his old world. Although the bespectacled man didn't believe him at first since he's a naturally skeptical person, the man did come from another world. Not only that, but the foreigner gives off the air of a natural-born leader who has experience with being in a significant position of power. Trey will ask [Name] if he can spare some advice to Riddle about being an important public figure who holds power over others. He trusts his childhood friend, of course, but the clover-haired man can't help but feel that the redhead could still use the help.

♠️ This bespectacled man is about to lose his marbles if he receives one more ridiculously expensive ingredient from that hard-headed king! This has to stop; Trey is really starting to feel bad. How is he supposed to give [Name] gifts that are of equal value if the guy is buying shit that costs upward of one hundred thousand madol!? His family owns a local bakery for Seven's sake, not an international catering company! Not that Trey doesn't appreciate the foie gras, gold leaf, and fresh morels; he does, but he wishes [Name] would give him something less expensive and more personal. He also wishes that the world-hopper would stop spending such ridiculous amounts of money on the most unimportant shit.

♠️ Now, Trey is certainly not a jewelry connoisseur, however, he is absolutely certain that he's seen jewelry of a similar style to [Name]’s draping off of Kalim and even Jamil on certain occasions. They are quite lovely things aren't they, though, the six-pointed stars that were engraved into a few of them were telling enough of their true origin. Apparently, [Name] had gotten them from a structure called a dungeon; what the otherworldly man described as a giant spire that erupts from beneath the sands of the vast and vacant desert at the command of a magi. Whatever a magi is supposed to be… The Sindrian king even offered to make Trey one of his household vessels! Even if the bespectacled man still has no clue what that's supposed to mean…

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“N‐now listen, you! This is a kitchen. It's meant for kitchen-related activities and not… n‐not this. You'll dirty the counters if you keep this up. H‐hey! Don't give me such a look!”

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🍩 Its safe to say that Ruggie was very caught off guard when he was on the receiving end of someone's flirting. He's sure that he's not exactly anybody's first choice when it comes to a romantic partner, he'll, he's not even the first choice for a friend. But the hyena beastman can't deny the thundering of his heart in his throat when [Name] appears behind him and rests his face in the crook of his neck. Nor can Ruggie admit the swirling thoughts of a future together whenever the charismatic [Name] sneaks into the Savanaclaw Dorm kitchen and lifts him onto the countertop so the man can hand feed him. The feeling of large hands holding the underside of his thighs is forever burned into his mind.

🍩 Aw jeez, not this shit again. No offense to [Name] or anything, but this hyena is really burned out by all this royalty stuff. If the Sindrian king turns out to be another jealous royal, Ruggie's going to start ripping his hair out; one Leona is more than enough for him to deal with. He would ask the otherworldly man to talk some sense into his Dorm Head but he doesn't even bother, he lost hope long ago. [Name] being a king does sound pretty cool though, if the foreigner ever wants to spare him some gold or food the Ruggie will welcome it with open arms. The hyena beastman does think about how it would feel to sit on a throne, but a king's lap is comfortable enough for now.

🍩 Oh, for him? [Name], you shouldn't have– just kidding, keep them coming, ol’ Ruggie can pawn some of these beauties for a hefty sum of madol and then he can send it to his family back in the Afterglow Savana. O-oh, the Sindrian king is wondering why his little doughnut lover isn't wearing most of the gifts he bought them. Those are– those are in his room! Yes, his room. This hyena just didn't want to dirty anything that was given to him by someone as important as [Name], with him being a king and all. The ol’ Rugster definitely didn't sell most of the gifts that were given to him, absolutely not. But… on the off chance that that's exactly what happened, surely the foreigner wouldn't be mad at him, right? He's got priorities after all.

🍩 You know, Ruggie doesn't mind it too much when [Name] wears his gaudy jewelry when they cuddle, so long as this hyena gets to wear some every once in a while. For some reason, though, the henchman of the second prince of the Afterglow Savana only wants to wear the jewelry that the otherworldly man won't let him touch. But how could he blame him, it's the scrap hound in him, looking at things he can't have with big wanting eyes. [Name] will have to end up showing Ruggie just how important his accessories actually are eventually and it's safe to say that the hyena beastman will no longer let his Sindrian sugar daddy wear such dangerous things while he wants to be vulnerable for a moment.

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“Hey, if ya ever get tired of eatin’ the same ol’ royal meals, yer pal Ruggie‘ll take care of it for ya. I'll clean yer plates lickety-split an’ free o’ charge. Heck, I'll even throw in a free fridge cleanin’ for ya as a bonus! All this with a downpayment o’ absolutely nothin’!”

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🐬 Is Jade flustered? No, no, dear, he's more amused than flustered. This slippery eel hasn't had someone speak to him in such a bold way before, aside from Rook, but the hunter goes about it in a much more eloquent way. [Name] wants to wrap an arm around his waist and pepper his neck with kisses. Alright, but the monarch from another world better expect a bite or two placed over his Adam's apple in return, it's only fair.~ [Name] wants to sit him on his lap and whisper sweet nothings in his ear? That's fine, but he'd better expect Jade to take those sweet words up a few notches into dirty territory, this eel won't hold back. The king had better watch himself and stick to flirting with the mushroom lover only; this vice dorm head doesn't share.~

🐬 Hoh? A king? [Name]? It's not that Jade doesn't believe that the Sindrian man is royalty, he just doesn't want him to know that he believes it. It was fairly obvious by just the way that the foreign man carried himself and even subtly in the way he spoke. Hell, even Floyd figured it out -not that this eel is saying anything about his brother- was it even a secret at this point? But even so, Jade doesn't care too much about [Name]’s social status and will continue to pretend that he doesn't believe the man for the sake of seeing his frustration. That glare that the Sindrian man shoots him whenever the gentlemanly eel once again denies his claims, is really gratifying in a way.

🐬 Yes, that hand-crafted broach is absolutely stunning, and yes, these rings are embedded with treasured stones from all around Twisted Wonderland, but does Jade want them? Absolutely not. What use would he have for them? Sure, he could wear a few of the accessories that [Name] gifted him to any formal events that he may need to attend, but other than that, they'll just sit around and collect dust. He will certainly take his time to sit down with the world-hopper and discuss preferences; although the slippery eel prefers to do it the difficult way and make the king guess instead. Luckily for Jade though, [Name] seems to like the ones that play hard to get the most, so the influx of gifts being sent to the twin's shared room in Octavinelle skyrockets. Poor Floyd is so annoyed at being buried in fancy gift boxes, give him a rest already.

🐬 The amount of side-eye that this man gets from Azul whenever [Name] comes into Monstrou Lounge all decked out in gold and jewels is downright atrocious. Jade loves his otherworldly himbo boy toy, but it's becoming a bother to try and steer his childhood friend's schemes away from him at this point. Especially since a few of those accessories radiate a foreign magical signature and the Seven knows how power-hungry that four-eyed takoyaki is. So [Name], if you would be so kind, stop broadcasting your vulnerability to the group of people who are known all around the college's campus for taking advantage of vulnerable people, you dumbass. Jade himself is a part of said group, he hopes that just because he and the Parthevian native are in a certain relationship, the man won't assume he's a good person.

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“Oh my, you're still going on about that? I understand that you're magicless, but I doubt lying about your social status will help your situation. Honestly, I'm starting to believe you're having delusions.”

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🐍 While Jamil appreciates that [Name] is trying to cheer him up, such vulgar words are- are unnecessary. Yeah, as much as I love our beautiful serpent man, he can be a bit dense. No matter what compliment, kind gesturing, or suggestive remark the king flings at him, he will immediately assume one of four things; 1. Those were meant to be passed onto Kalim, 2. They're trying to insult him in some way, 3. They need a favor from him, and 4. They're just trying to annoy him. But even then, Jamil can't ignore how hot-faced and tongue-tied he gets when [Name] pinches the brunette's chin between his large, calloused fingers and plants a searing kiss on his lips. Or how the Sindrian man leads him away to take a break and runs his fingers through his long dark brown hair.

🐍 As soon as the words ‘I'm also the king of’ left the handsome worldhoppers lips, Jamil could only let out a long resigned sigh. Of course [Name] was royalty, which explains why that man is so childish and irresponsible; running around and leaving masses for other people to pick up. The Al Asim servant resented the charismatic man quite a bit after that revelation; going as far as to slap his hands away whenever the other tried to touch him. Jamil will feel a bit bad after a while though, [Name] hadn't done anything wrong and he was taking his frustration over his situation with Kalim out on a third party. Thankfully the foreigner accepted his apology immediately and even offered to take him and his sister back to Sindria with him, how sweet.

🐍 Once again this serpentine man assumes that all kind words and gift-like objects being given to him are things that he's meant to pass to Kalim, and he does just that. It was only [Name]’s asking whether or not the gifts he had given him were useful and Kalim pointing out that the gifts were addressed to him by name that Jamil finally got it through his thick skull. This time, surprisingly, it was the Al Asim prince who was exasperated at his servant and not the other way around. The prince even made it a point to tell people to give all gifts meant for him directly to him so that they'd leave his servant be. (responsible Kalim for the win!) Looking over his now recovered gifts, Jamil couldn't help but flush at how costly they were. The thought of [Name] spending so much money to please him made the basketball player both embarrassed and endeared.

🐍 At first he didn't really notice them, but after being pulled against the muscled chest of his word-hopping fling(?), he was smooshed onto the business end of a few of the man's familiar-looking accessories. The imprint of a six-pointed star was on the side of Jamil’s forehead for days after that, to which the idiot whose arms he was in made a joke about him having a shiny forehead. [Name] got a good bonk on the head after that. The Sindrian man had once shown Jamil a djinn that dwelled inside his necklace, but after seeing the look that the serpentine man was giving the djinn, [Name] decided to keep the rest to himself. Now, the dark brunette gets frequent reminders that, if he so chose, the foreign king would take him with him when he eventually went back to Sindria.

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“You'll take me back with you? You'd really do that for me? Then please… remember you said these words to me… and take me away from this place when the time comes.”

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🏹 Well [Name], prepare to be outdone by a true professional. Rook will make the foreign man swoon so hard it's not even funny. The Parthevian native wants to pin this hunter to a tree, oh, haha look, now he himself is against that tree while the bob-headed blonde attacks his neck in between whispers of recherché poetry that he wrote earlier that day. That Sindrian king is lounging on a blanket in the wooded area just on the outskirts of the Pomfiore dorm campus and trying to coax the Frenchman onto his lap? Oh my, what's this? [Name] is now practically nude as Rook kisses and caresses each and every inch of his muse's warm muscular body. Somehow the blonde finds this thing the two have going on to be even more thrilling than a hunt.

🏹 His lovely muse is a king? It looks like [Name] has another new pet name courtesy of a certain huntsman. In fact, it's become Rook's favorite pet name, so his darling muse and everyone else in his vicinity is going to be hearing the words ‘Mon Roi’ as often as they breathe. Oh, this bob-headed blonde is dying to know what kind of wildlife is back in Sindria; he can describe beauteous landscapes in his poetry, what newfound fauna could be his prey, ah what thrilling thoughts he has. Since [Name] is the king, he'd certainly let Rook hunt to his heart's content, right~? You can't just tell him about all these curious little creatures and then ban him from hunting them; such a tease the otherworldly man is being, how cruel.~

🏹 The feeling of being spoiled with gifts by [Name] reminds him of how Vil ‘saved him’ during his first year when he was still in Savanaclaw. Although, Rook could never think back on his experience in his old dorm negatively; his roots are firmly planted in the Afterglow Savana after all. But instead of a haircut and rigorous skin care, he was given the best hunting equipment money could buy, and when it came to [Name]’s money, well there was a lot of it. As Rook's lovely Mon Roi told him, the greatest hunters are those who aren't afraid to become a beast themselves for the sake of the hunt. These new intricate daggers that he was gifted seem to have quite the resemblance to fangs do they not?

🏹 Rook doesn't bother too much when it comes to his Mon Roi's jewelry, it's simply a token of a faraway home in his eyes; the hunter himself has many of his own. Yes, the bob-headed blonde does in fact notice that his otherworldly muse's adornments emanate a mystical aura and glow from time to time and yes the poetry enthusiast also knows that the giant blue figures that [Name] calls djinn do live in the ones with stars engraved on them, but he could care less. What Rook is really interested in is having his dearest muse hold that pose while he captures how the light bounces off the gold and jewels that draped across [Name]’s naked chest in this portrait. The hunter made sure to hang the paintings on the wall opposite his bed so that he could see his magnetic Mon Roi when he woke up every morning.

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��Ah~ Mon Roi, the tales you have given me do you no justice. You are far more magnifique than these simple words can capture. It seems that I have found myself a challenge to overcome; I must bid you adieu.~”

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⚡ He keeps swearing up and down that he's been cursed by the otherworldly man; why else would he be feeling so odd around him after every interaction!? Sebek has been feeling flushed, and sweaty all over, having racing thoughts, been unable to sleep, and has continuously been stumbling over his words since he met [Name]! This has to be a curse; the half-fae wasn't experiencing any of these symptoms before! Even after Sebek demanded a duel in order for the foreigner to release the spell, to which wrestling on the bed was the request by the perpetrator, the curse only got worse! Now his mind is only occupied with thoughts of [Name] at any given moment; but he needs those thoughts for Waka-Sama, not some random human witch man!!!

⚡ So, the witchy human claims to be a king? HAH! Fat chance! There's no way Sebek would believe such an obvious farce, just who does this human take him for? The only royalty worth any salt is clearly his Waka-Sama, didn't you know? This half-fae knows what that human ‘king’ is up to, that man is just trying to lie his way into Waka-Sama's good graces, that's the only explanation! Even if Sebek knows that [Name] walks with the same regal posture as Malleus and knows that he has the same aura as Lilia does whenever they're sparring during swordsmanship lessons, he just won't accept it. And no, he will not accept a duel to change his mind.

⚡ A new sword and armor that cost millions of madol? Denied. As if Sebek would accept anything from some lowly human that definitely has plans to hurt Waka-Sama, he's not an idiot. Even if that sword looks expertly crafted and the blade is magically reinforced to cut through concrete like butter, h‐he's not interested in [Name]’s wicked wares! Ah, but… the weight of the blade is pretty good and the handle is very comfortable to grip onto… oh, and the hand guard is customizable too… A‐ah! Sebek wasn't admiring the craftsmanship, he was– he was just making sure that [Name] didn't place a curse on this sword is all. Yeah, that's it. What? No, he won't give it back, it was a gift, wasn't it? N‐not that a proud fae warrior like himself needs gifts from lowly humans!

⚡ Poor [Name] no matter what he does, Sebek continues his tsundere behavior. If the Sindrian king were to show the half-fae his djinn or metal vessels, who knows what he'd be accused of? Probably something like kidnapping his djinn and holding them against their will or saving a metal vessel for Malleus so he can trap him inside. But, if not that, Sebek would likely say that he has them for nefarious purposes. Whatever, [Name] better go back to the drawing board.

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“HUMAN! Remove this curse you've cast upon me at once, it's interfering with my duties to Waka-Sama! Wha- You still have the gall to lie right to my face!?”

. . .

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oonajaeadira · 1 year ago

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For the Love of Fic: January 2

I've been doing my best to get caught up on a verrrrrrry long reading list. I know I sound like a broken record, but I'm a super slow reader (both in having the time to read and actual reading speed), and many of my favorite writers are bananas prolific, so it's easy for me to fall behind. My lists for the immediate future will probably be in character groupings, since that helps me organize and sift.

Today you're getting these lovelies in some fic I've been loving!

EZRA

Cross My Heart by @brandyllyn This wins for my favorite of the week. How can it not, when it is from my Secret Santa???? Brandy softens our scoundrel but keeps his dangerous edge which I really love and appreciate. This could have been your regular Gift of the Magi fic, but it goes above and beyond. Not only do these lovers do what they can to give each other the world, they get to keep their spoils too. My heart would follow his anywhere. <3

untitled by @brandyllyn So after reading Cross My Heart, I decided to catch up on the remaining Ezra fic of Brandy's I haven't read yet and I was not disappointed, not at all. If Ezra came to me for advice on how to touch a lady, I don't think I'd be able to hold myself together this well...

When They Disentwine by @brandyllyn Holy BALLS this is hot like fire. A little misunderstanding leads to some really delicious punishment--read the warnings. Do I like a little danger in my Ez? Fk yeah I do. Soft and dangerous. This serves.

Hold Fast to Dreams by @brandyllyn Here it is, friends. One of the most beautifully written, soft, wonderful Ezra stories full of books and hope and healing and it's rendered me nearly speechless. I don't know what else to say except DANG.

MAX PHILLIPS

Bangathon: Position: Reverse Cowgirl by @prolix-yuy Oh. My gods. I did not expect the soft. And yet. Here it is. And I am clawing for it. The moment he realizes he's actually into her kind of destroyed me. And I love that they're both in the same place...fkn hells. I swoon. This's the good stuff.

Negotiations by @prolix-yuy Another treat from LJ with a softer, yearning Max. Yes, he's got more ego than he should have, but it gets a swift, satisfying kick in the ass when he comes up against you. And do you ever give him a run for his money. A lovely little twist and sweet surprise.

A Rough (Pumpkin) Patch by @blueeyesatnight Can we all acknowledge how satisfying it is to witness Max get pouty when he doesn't get his way? And then twist things around to make his own fun? He may hate hay rides and pumpkin picking, but if you're the only two in the field, there may be more fun to be had....

I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by @chronically-ghosted I too would be tempted to tell Max to feed from me while we did the do. But you know what I am? A soft girl with a weakness for a build up. So imagine my joy when I found out this was a series in progress...one bite/drink/base at a time! And there are feelings? What! This is all my monsterfkr dreams with Max come true.

Polynesian Kiss by @morallyinept Listen. He's Max. He's your boss, and he's a vampire, and you're his PA. And blood donor. And bang buddy. And you just can't make it into work because your cramps are murder. Lucky you, you've just become a dispenser for Max's favorite treat, and he is here to FEAST. I love a man who loves his meal, and goodness does he ever enjoy you. TASTY.

Blood & Tinsel by @morallyinept Read the warnings on this one, because Max has his influence on and you're not submitting to his office booty call of your own free will. But you would if he'd let you. He doesn't know that. Yet. I love how Jett writes his reaction to that little tidbit....she's got this power-hungry jackass down.

EDDIE THE VAMPIRE

An Act of Kindness pt. 2 by @missredherring Oh my gosh, Eddie's become a rescue pup! He has nowhere to go and nobody to look after him and he was so young when he turned...he's so confused. I just wanna comfort the boy. It's a good thing Bella's here to look after the little darling. (Guest appearance by one Jack Daniels with mentions of Max Phillips and a Liam easter egg.)

WING PIT GUY

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #3: Daniel (Wing Pit) - Distracting Kiss by @something-tofightfor Rachael's Wing Pit Guy is named Daniel and there's just something about him that's comfortable and goofy and total boyfriend material. (And he can clean a chicken wing bone in one smooth go.) You know that kissing him is gonna taste like sauce, and since he really loves his wings, you know that sauce is gonna be good. And real. And sweet. Just like this fic.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #11: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit) - A Kiss After Pain by @something-tofightfor It's finally time for a real first date, but before that, time to meet Daniel's dog. Raider is just a dog, doing dog things and doesn't mean to slip up. But istg if anyone here hurts Raider I will burn this site to the ground. There's a really sweet kiss in here and I am all for it. But I am having trouble deciding if I love Raider or Daniel more right now...

Smutsgiving 2023: Sweet Potato Casserole / Daniel Harper (Wing Pit Pedro) by @something-tofightfor First of all, marshmallow fluff is genius. Second of all, I don't care how sticky it is. I hate sticky and I would still allow supreme level boyfriend coded Daniel to cover me in it.

TIM ROCKFORD

Rockford & Roan Pt. 5 by @littlemisspascal There's a number of reasons why I'm freaking out about this chapter. It's dark. There's a body. Tim is mystereously cold and Roan is being warned not to be taken advantage by his less than perfect tendancies. Doubt is strewn. Our Very Good Boy Banjo is a little doggie king. And then there's the special guest star, complete with cliffhanger...and I'm in LOVE.

Morning, His Place by @words-are-fireproof A slice of life, an early morning in the kitchen with Tim before he has to leave for work. And yet, in just a short piece, there's so much detail and background given between the characters, just in the little things they say and do, the pictures on the wall, the things Tim forgets. Simple and lovely.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #5: Tim Rockford - Jealous Kiss by @something-tofightfor Black Days Tim has a hold on me, and Rachael's given him a lot of groundedness and depth. He's not surprised by much, except when he surprises himself.

Smutsgiving 2023: Apple Pie / Tim Rockford by @something-tofightfor Another Black Days Tim, and this one has him apologizing to his lady for not being home for Thanksgiving by utilizing his desk when she comes to visit him. Yes plz.

DIETER BRAVO

Star Boy by @ezrasbirdie I'm in love with the Star Boy and his Cool Girl so so much and this installment in the Starstruck Series was no exception. They have so much to navigate together and it can't be the easiest thing to date a movie star. But I'm willing to take the chance if he love love loved me this very much.

Misfire by @qveerthe0ry If it's something I'm fascinated and enamored of, it's a boy that comes untouched. Dunno why that's a kink of mine, maybe I just find it endearing when someone loses control. This one has no romantic or sexual connection to it though, and it's Dieter actually being embarrassed. I am not above smiling while watching that man be flustered and suffer a little.

Bravo, Dieter. by @juletheghoul If you haven't had a taste of Jules' writing (first of all, where have you been), then this is as good a place as any to start. Pretty writing, smooth Dieter, make up sex ahoy, and all the neck nibbles you can't keep your cool over....

Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls by @missredherring While there's some verbal teasing, this is a working relationship, but a good one. I mean, I don't know if I'm in the right crotchspace to let Dieter paint my naked body and be cool about it, but if I was, I would hope it would be as endearing as this.

Dress Me Up and Call Me Pretty by @morallyinept This is one of the hottest things I have ever read. Dieter is an absolute mess, his own worst enemy, and reader is an angel who gives him everything he needs--and discovers she likes it too. The LOVE. The kink. The marathon. The care. Just go. Go now and get your strap on.

Run Over By A Reindeer... by @blueeyesatnight Blue has such a good grip on Dieter and I love his perfect balance of shithead horny actor and genuinely nice horny guy. I laughed out loud at this multiple times too, because Blue's also good at Dieter's dipshit humor. This is definitely one of my favorites this season.

Smutsgiving 2023: Stuffing / Dieter Bravo by @something-tofightfor This is Dieter from Rachael's Locked Down series and I have a real soft spot for these two...and for this particular take on Dieter. He's someone who surprises you constantly, showing a disaster to the world while being actually put together underneath. Stuffing shows up in more ways than one here. As does mention of a raccoon....

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #10: Dieter Bravo - A Kiss While Baking by @something-tofightfor This one is sweet in every sense of the word. Brownies, kisses, heartfelt feelings, a peek at a possible future... I love Locked Down Dieter so much and it's nice to see him domestic and happy.

Touch Me Touch Me Touch Me by @missredherring It's subby D time! This time with a free use kink and some audio erotica built in! At first I was a little sorry for our needy boy, but man, does he get it in the end....and how.

#bloodsucking bastards fanfic #max phillips #snl fanfic #wing pit guy #prospect fanfic #ezra #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #buffy the vampire slayer fanfic #eddie the vampire

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xu-ren · 4 years ago

Text

A Kinder End

Genre: Fluff and angst

Pairings: Diarmuid (Fate/Zero) x reader

Wordcount: 2000+

My requests and askbox are open, so pretty please don't be shy.

Masterpost

*~*~*

“Lancer, prepare yourself! I can’t hold this spell for long.” Lancer readied himself at [Name]’s words. “God of the North wind, Boreas, God of the East wind, Eurus, God of the South wind, Notus, God of the East wind, Zephyus, Your faithful servant besieged you to lend get your strength so that she may vanquish her mighty foe!”

The wind tore her hair away from her usual bun, letting it whip freely around her. Had it been any other time, Lancer would have appreciated the sight of her unbound black tress. As it was, the wind she summoned started to clear a path to Caster. Lancer tensed up as her wind went closer and closer to Caster. ‘Come on…Just a bit more…’ Just as Lancer caught a glimpse of Caster, her spell failed and she collapsed.

“My lady…!” Luckily, he managed to catch her just before she hit the ground and lowered her down gently. Saber and Rider, who had stopped their assault on Caster when [Name] started her spell, prepared to resume their assault on Caster. Rider offered to buy them time to think of another plan to defeat Caster as [Name]’s plan had failed. Lancer didn’t hesitate to break Gáe Buidhe so that Saber could defeat Caster. His number one priority was to get [Name] to safety now that she was unconscious and vulnerable. However, he had to ensure that Caster was defeated first so he stood at the water’s edge cradling [Name] carefully as he watched Saber defeat Caster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lancer laid [Name] down as gently as possible at an abandoned building. It was unfortunately the best place that he could find for now.

“Lan…cer?”

“My lady!” *Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment before they relaxed again. It was a testament to her weariness that she didn’t even bother to correct him.

“Where are we?” “An abandoned building, my lady. I apologise, it was the best…” Lancer trailed off as [Name] raised a hand to silence him. They both kept silent as [Name]’s eyes darted around, absorbing every minute detail of their surroundings.

“Diarmuid, where’s Gáe Buidhe?”

“I…broke it so that Saber could defeat Caster. I apolo…” This time, [Name] pushed herself up and placed a finger upon Lender’s lips to silence him. They stayed as they were for what seemed to be an eternity until [Name] collapsed upon Lancer’s chest. What meagre strength she had accumulated from her brief rest had been spent.

“You are apologising a lot today, aren’t you, Diarmuid?” asked [Name], her tone mildly scolding.

“I apolo-“

“You are doing it again, Diarmuid. You have no reason to apologise to me, after all, you merely did what you thought was best at that moment. Besides, we are a team, not master and servant.”

By the end of her short speech, her voice was scarcely a whisper. If not for their proximity, he would have never heard it.

“My lady…”

Suddenly, Lancer tensed up and he tightened his hold on [Name].

“Diarmuid?”

“Someone’s here.”

“Go, Diarmuid.”

“My lady…”

“Go on, I await your return.”

“Yes, my lady.”

He hated to leave [Name] alone, especially when she was so vulnerable but he couldn’t disobey her either.He wasn’t very surprised when it was Saber who met him in the courtyard of the abandoned building. At the very least, they would finally be able to finish their battle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

She watched from her spot as the two servants fought it out. Such honourable warriors, there were no one more deserving of the title ‘Heroic Spirits. She was glad to have met them despite her reluctance to enter this war in the first place.

Suddenly, a shadow was casted upon her and she looked up to see Kiritsugu pointing a gun at her.

“Mr. Kiritsugu, how…expected,” she whispered quietly as her lips formed a small, wry smile.

He put his finger to his lips in the universal gesture of silence. She cocked her head to the side. In response, Kiritsugu hands her a scroll.

‘A Self-Geas Scroll. A magical item used by Magi to form an unbreakable contract. Binding spell… Affected Party: Emiya Kiritsugu. The Emiya family crest orders the following. The pledge is to be observed by the affected party upon fulfilment of the conditions described herein. Pledge: Kiritsugu, son of Norikata and the fifth descendant of the House of Emiya, will be forever forbidden from harming or intending to harm, [Name] [Middle Name] [Last Name]. Condition…’

After reading the scroll, she looked at Kiritsugu searchingly. She gathered the magick stored at the amulet around her neck before speaking into his mind. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch. In fact, the only outwardly respond he showed was the slight widening of his eyes.

‘I won’t do it.’

Kiritsugu responded by pulling the safety of his gun.

‘After all, it doesn’t matter, does it? You are going to kill me either way. A master without a servant can form a pact with another servant and you can ill afford that.’

For a moment, she thought that she saw a shadow of surprise pass through Kiritsugu’s face.

‘Kill me, Emiya Kiritsugu. Let me be but another life you sacrificed in your quest to save the world. However, will you listen to this girl’s final wish?’

He lowered his gun slightly and she took it as her cue to continue.

‘Ensure that my death isn’t instant.’

This time, she definitely saw the surprise on his face. She smirked. It was a highly unusual wish as most people hoped for the opposite.

‘I wish to say farewell to Lancer.’

He nodded and shot her in the aorta, ensuring that it gazed the aorta so that she would bleed out in 5 minutes.

‘Thank you.’

The gunshot rang across the abandoned building.

Lancer’s head whipped towards the direction where the gunshot came from so fast that he gave himself whip splash. He immediately abandoned his stalemate with Saber when he saw that the gunshot came from where he had left [Name].

“My lady!”

He raced towards her, hoping against hope that she wasn’t shot. His heart had never been filled with such rage as when he saw her bleeding from where he left her with Emiya Kiritsugu standing over her holding a gun. He readied his lance to slay the miscreant who dared to harm his lady.

“Diarmuid!”

Her voice was authoritative and they had been together long enough to know that she wanted him to stand down. He tore his gaze from where he was glaring at Kiritsugu to look at her. He barely registered the shocked gasps of Saber behind him.

Her right hand on her chest was stained with blood while she used her left hand to gesture for him to come to her side. He approached her while keeping Kiritsugu in his line of sight. As he got closer, Kiritsugu backed away to give them some privacy.

He dropped down on his knees next to her as she smiled at him. Her face was paler than he had ever seen and that only makes the blood on her lips stand out even more starkly. He held her gently and lowered her carefully to not aggravate her wound so that her head rested on his knees in hopes of making her more comfortable.

***His clothes changed to the daily wear that [Name] had bought for him and he made to tear it apart to make some makeshift bandages.

“Lea…ve it.”

“My lady…”

“Leave. It.”

“My lady, I can see the blood on your clothes.”

She opened her mouth to answer him but more blood merely dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. Instead, she spoke into his mind.

*‘Is that so? I will find even darker clothes next time then.’

She tilted her head to the scroll resting innocently at her side so he picked it up and read it. His eyes widened with understanding as he read it.

“My lady! You should have let me die.”

‘Do I seem like such a heartless person to you, Diarmuid? I would never even think of sacrificing another’s life for mine.’

“I don’t mean to insult you, my lady, but I have already died once.”

‘It doesn’t matter. Kiritsugu had no intentions of allowing me to live either way.’

“But…”

“My servant. By her Command Seal, [Name] [Middle Name] [Last Name] orders you, Lancer, to not take revenge upon…” she coughed, causing blood to bubble out of her mouth. “Emiya Kiritsugu or anyone else that you hold responsible for her death.”

“My lady!”

“By my Command Seal, I order you to return to the spirit world upon my death. And by my Command Seal, I order you to not form a pact with another master for the duration of the 4th Holy Grail War.”

More blood spilt from mouth and her face was bone white.

“My lady! How can you possibly expect me to do such things?”

‘You will do it, either because I commanded you or as a deathbed promise to me. And no more of that my lady nonsense, I have used up all three Command Seals and therefore am no longer your master. Call me [Name] at least once before I go, please?’

“My…[Name].”

A wide, genuine smile spread across her face and suddenly, she looked as if she was full of life despite the blood seeping out of her. Using the last of her strength, she spoke into the minds of Diarmuid and Kiritsugu respectively.

‘Don’t despair. Let’s meet again in another life, Diarmuid.’

‘The ends don’t justify the means, Emiya Kiritsugu.’

Lancer’s heart clenched as she raised her right hand to stroke his face, her eyes memorizing every feature of his face hungrily before her hand fell and her eyes closed for all eternity.

“[Name]…! [Name]…! Please…come back…!”

He rocked back and forth while holding her tightly to him, his lithe body wracked with sobs. He brushed her hair from her face and the memory of brilliant smile she had gifted him with when he called her by name only made him sob harder. If he knew how happy it would have made her, he would have called her by name more often, propriety be damned. If only he had disobeyed her and stayed with her, she would still be alive.

How could life be this cruel? She was a powerful magus with a bright future ahead of her and suddenly, it was gone. She was no more than another life lost during the Holy Grail War.

How desperately he wanted to take revenge for her death and yet her words bound her. He couldn’t bear to disappoint her, even in death.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“My lady, why are all your clothes black?” Diarmuid was curious, never had he seen a woman who wore nothing but black.

“Black is my favourite colour. Besides, doesn’t it look good on me?” she asked as she gave a little twirl.

Black did look good on her. It emphasised the paleness of her skin and made her eyes look bigger. Her lips, painted black as well stood out starkly against her pale skin. It also made her look slender and intimidating despite her diminutive height.

“Finally, you can’t really see blood on me if I’m wearing black, right?”

“My lady!”

“Kidding… Don’t be so uptight, Diarmuid,” said [Name] while giggling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Diarmuid.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Stop calling me ‘my lady’. I have already said it many times but we are a team and therefore equals. Call me [Name].”

“I’m afraid that I can’t do so, my lady. It would be highly improper to call you by your name.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

***

“Diarmuid, do you have nothing else to wear?”

“I’m afraid that this is my only outfit, my lady.”

“Well, you certainly can’t go out like that. Let’s go shopping.”

“My lady, there’s …there’s no need to trouble yourself!”

“It’s no trouble at all. Besides, I have been wanting to explore the shops here anyways. How about this? You be my bag carrier for the day and I buy you an outfit as a thank you present?”

“Al…Alright, my lady.”

(Time skip)

“So, so? What do you think?”

“You have good taste, my lady.”

“Of course.”

Lancer couldn’t help but admire his outfit that consist of a dark green shirt, black pants and black shoes paired with a black vest in the mirror.

“As a bonus, we match too,” said [Name] as she gave a twirl in her black dress with dark green embellishments.

#fate zero #fate #fate series #fgo #fgo na #fate diarmuid #lancer diarmuid #diarmuid ua duibhne #diarmuid #diarmuid x reader #fgo imagines #fate imagines

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

Photo

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MaybeAmanda

MaybeAmanda has been a longtime participant in X-files fandom. She has 29 stories at Gossamer, the earliest being archived there in 1998 and the latest in 2012. I've recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including "Malus Genus" and "Snow in Alabama." Big thanks to MaybeAmanda for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does, in a way. The feedback I get nowadays is either of the "I read this like 20 years ago and I just read it again" variety or the "I was too young back in the day but I have been watching the show in reruns/on XYZ streaming service/on the full-series of DVDs I got for $3 from the thrift store and I was THRILLED to discover fanfiction was being written even in the Dark Ages!" So it's a bit of a surprise, but it's a pleasant one. I answer every mail/comment because my mama raised me right!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was great. It was fun. It was educational. It was a godsend. Even with the occasional bouts of back-stabbing and flame-throwing, it was mainly a welcoming, inclusive place to be. I made so many online friends who have turned into meat-friends (do they still call them that? Probably not). During the first run of the show I had small children and we had relocated for my husband's job. I had very little social life, but the fandom gave me a chance to meet and connect with people who liked what I liked. Then I discovered online fanfic, and it was even better!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

ATXC I think. A lot of email lists - 5 or 6 or 7 or so over the years. Gossamer, of course, Ephemeral when that came into being. Haven discussion boards. My own websites.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

More than anything? I am a fangirl.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I have always been partial to sci-fi and speculative fiction, but it rarely makes it to the screen - large or small - without being trite, clichéd, or just plain bad. It's easy to forget that The X-Files was groundbreaking - smart, scary, funny, insightful, intriguing, complex plots, on-going mythology. It looked great. It sounded great. David Duchovny was pleasant to look at, too, and damn! Gillian Anderson is/was one hell of an actress.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I found XF fanfic - somehow - probably by accident, or by way of a recommendation - and it blew my mind. I had written fanfic (of a sort) with my friends in highschool, so I was familiar with the beast, but to find what amounted to excellent story after excellent story for free within (relatively) easy reach (because dial-up, right?) written by people who, for the most part, were thrilled you read their story and were happy to talk to you about it, about writing in general, about your shared obsession - that was amazing. As I am sitting here typing this I am feeling that thrill again - discovering Karen Rasch, Madeliene Partous, Paula Graves [Lilydale note: AKA Anne Haynes], Sheryl Martin and all the other early BNFs was, well, the only word is exciting. I felt like I was a member of a secret society and that I was sitting at the popular kids lunch table, all at once. (Don't forget, in the early days, shippers were considered delusional outliers - seriously!)

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Good? It's not as lively a place as it once was, but I haven't renounced my citizenship or anything. If I get a rec, I check it out. I know there are those who like to pretend they never had anything to do with the fandom, but why? I am still a proud XPhile.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Angel (a teeny tiny bit) while XF was still running, but those fans were - I don't know the word. Hardcore does not begin to do it justice. I wrote two short pieces at a friend's request then backed away slowly. Sherlock (a bit) - it is/was very LJ centred and that made it hard to find things. A lot of it moved to tumblr which made it harder, then to twitter, which - no. I was involved in one of the less fashionable facets of the Sherlock fandom, so I was really a fringe-dweller there, too. It seemed clique-ier than XF, and they all seemed so young, and they all knew EVERYTHING about everything, and every damned thing was political, and, and, and... GET OFF MY LAWN!

But maybe I am remembering the XF fandom wrong. ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Like, all fiction? Mulder and Scully for sure. Arthur Dent. Sherlock Holmes in most of his incarnations. Spock. Winnie the Pooh. Why do I like them? They speak to me, I guess.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I haven't watched an episode in probably two years (back when it was on regular tv). Yeah, I think about them surprisingly often. Story ideas, weirdly.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic?

I finished re-reading The Iolokus Series a couple of weeks back, so yes. It's excellent comfort reading.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Lots! But as far as authors go, I hate playing favourites. I will miss someone I shouldn't and feel like crap. The Iolokus Series by MustangSally and Rivka T. is probably my all-time favourite fic because it's so very well-written, and so very fucked-up. Kipler's Strangers and the Strange Dead is also terrifically well-written and clever. For complex, interesting case files, you can’t beat syntax6 - pick any of them.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Oh geez. Seriously? I wrote a lot of collaborations and I love them - and my co-authors - all! Stuff I wrote on my own: Anniversary Waltz (first XF fic I wrote so it's sentimental.) Or Blue Patches. Or Epiphany. Or The Gifts of the Magi (On a Kaiser Roll). Or 221XF. Gonna stop now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story?

Every time I thought I wouldn't, I did. I would never say never.

Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Nothing finished ever went un-posted. All the unfinished stuff remains unfinished.

Do you still write fic now?

Haven't for a while, but it's not as if I have said "I SHALL NEVER WRITE FANFIC AGAIN!" I just have nothing in the works at this moment.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With fic, it's usually from canon - some question unanswered, some road unexplored, some "what if?" that needs iffing. With "original" fiction, damned if I know. A snippet of overheard conversation, an interesting photo, something a random story generator spit out at me. Sometimes things just click.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Okay so...many years ago I was on a (smallish) fic list with a friend. There was a challenge posted - a bad fic challenge. We knew we could write some truly bad fic if we really tried. One of the rules of the challenge was to post under an assumed name so no one would know who they were voting for. Well, my friend and I wrote something truly, painfully horrid and we were very proud of its ghastliness, so were brainstorming possible pseudonyms. She hated everything but had no real suggestions of her own. I knew that she was a bit of a Trekkie (like me) and I said - What about Amanda Greyson and Joanna McCoy? And she said - What?? Huh?? Why?? And I said - Spock's mother and McCoy's daughter and she replied, "Maybe Amanda is Spock's mother but on Star Trek there is not a Joanna." By this point, I was SO DONE, and I became MaybeAmanda and she became NotJoanna. Really.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

It took years for me to admit it, but yeah, they know. They didn't entirely get it. The reactions I most often got were:

"Ew! You write stuff without being forced?? Ew!!"

or:

"Is it smut? I bet it's just smut. You write smut, don't you? Pure filth, right? I can't believe you are wasting your time writing pornography! That's disgusting! You sicken me! Um, can I read some of it?"

And of course:

"If you are going to write anyway, why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

which is really two questions, neither of which is easily answerable.

Anyone who tracked my work down (because I told them I wrote, but not my pseudonym) usually said something like, "Hey! You're an okay/passable/decent writer! Why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

Yeah.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Same old email (maybe_a@rocketmail_dot_com). Gossamer, my site, my LJ and probably some other places. I can't lie - it's a bit scattered.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 4, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #maybeamanda #xf fanfic author interviews

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sebthesnipe · 4 years ago

Text

Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows

Hi @logicalyfun!!

Storytime! I wasn’t apart of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange at all. So, the fact that you got me as a pinch hitter is kinda a miracle in its own right ;3 But I’m super glad you did! I’m so sorry you didn’t get your gift on time but now you get to chill with me! And I can be pretty awesome sometimes… Occasionally… Rarely but hey! Who keeps track of that kind of stuff anyways?

So, how did I become your pinch hitter? Well, you see. I’ve got this amazing best friend and beta reader @gilby-the-geek-girl. She actually /did/ participate in the exchange and because she’s just so amazing she offered to be a pinch hitter for it as well.

Anyways, You’re prompt got sent to her. This one right here:

“Your giftee: Fabi

Tumblr: Logicalyfun

Media to receive: Fan fiction, Fan art

Wish 1: Puppiesss

Wish 2: Fantasy world

Wish 3: Starry sky night

Topics to avoid: Remrom, no NSFW”

And it gave her pause. You see, I wrote this awesome fic called My Dearest Procyon (also on AO3) that checks almost all of these boxes (minus the puppiesss, but there is a REALLY awesome cat and dragons too!). So, she thought we’d be perfect for each other! So she sent your prompt to me and here we are!

Now for the bad news… I had every intention of checking off every one of your wishes, but the story got away from me and I’m pretty sure I struck out. However, I really think you’ll like it! Please forgive me for not sticking strictly with the prompts but I do mention each, and I highly recommend MDP if you really like those things.

I’ll also make you a deal! If you don’t like this ficlet, let me know and I’ll write you a new one that adheres to your prompts exactly! ;3

(Also... posting this on Patton’s B-day so it’s like double meant to be!)

So, without further adieu, I present Morality, Magic, and Chocolate Cows:

“Have at you!” Roman cried, his tiny form bounding off the small hill to swing at his brother, his cardboard sword bending at an odd angle.

“Actually,” Logan commented, hurrying along behind him, flowing blue cape flapping in the wind. “It would’ve been ‘ye’.”

Roman ignored him, adjusting the oversized ‘shining armor’ every time he took a step. The costume was far too large for Roman’s three foot, seven-and-a-half-inch tall body, though it was adorable to watch.

Remus, to his credit, laughed menacingly, the Sharpie mustache on his upper lip thinning from the effort as he parried his brother’s flopping cardboard blade with a small stick. His own costume consisted of a sheet, stained green, with what Patton hoped was paint (though he had never bothered to ask), wrapped around him like a toga.

“That's totally fair! Two against one!” Janus called from the safety of a tree branch; the yellow fabric of his shirt just visible through the leaves.

“I’m not fighting! I’m observing!” Logan called in his high-pitched voice, adjusting his glasses before the pointed wizard’s hat on his brow dipped forward, knocking them astray once more. His adorably pudgy form was wrapped in a shimmer fabric that reminded Patton of the stars Logan always seemed to want to tell him about.

“If you and V would help, your prince wouldn’t need an watcher-outer!” Roman whined, pausing in his attack to peer over at the older child and his companion, sitting in the shade below.

Remus took the opportunity to smack his twin across his butt with his stick, knocking Roman to the ground with a grunt.

A shrill cry filled the air, causing the other children to glance at Patton, who had been sitting on a blanket a few feet away.

Patton pushed to his feet, smiling softly as he approached the three boys, Janus and Virgil hurrying up to the crying child as well.

“It’s broken isn’t it!” Virgil rushed, his own tears threatening to fall. “Remus broke Roman’s leg! We’re all going to the hosp’al! I don’t want to go to the hosp’al! I don’t like doc’ors!” His words turned into a wail as he plopped on the grown next to Roman, waterworks in full force.

Patton examined the small scratch peaking through a tear in Roman’s jeans.

“Hm,” he sighed as if considering whether or not the wound was fatal. “We may have to amputate.”

“What?!” Remus gasped excitedly.

Janus moved over to Logan, attempting to whisper in his ear and failing. “What does ‘amputate’ mean?”

“Ample ate,” Logan attempted to repeat. “It means to eat a lot.”

“We’re going to eat him!” Remus gasped with a grin.

Patton couldn’t help but give a small chuckle at the exchange before sinking down on the lush grass and scooping Roman into his arms.

The pretend prince curled into the embrace, hiding his face in Patton’s chest as his wailing turned to sniffle.

“I don’t wanna be eaten,” he grumbled sullenly.

Patton felt Virgil curling into his side, tears soaking into his shirt. Patton glanced down, offering another small smile as he pulled him close as well.

“No one is getting eaten,” Patton chuckled softly. “Are they Remus?”

“Pft, no fair!” the mustached boy pouted, folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at his mismatched shoes.

“Why don’t we all come up with ways to make Roman’s boo-boo feel better?” Patton offered, motioning for everyone to move closer.

“I rather not,” Janus sighed softly. Still, the young boy scooted closer and sank down on the grass next to them.

Remus gave another ‘hmph’ before doing the same, though he made sure to sit far closer to Janus than anyone else.

“I can help!” Logan chirped excitedly, digging into his pockets with purpose.

Patton couldn’t help but allow his soft smile to turn even more fond. Logan was always the best helper.

Whatever Logan had in mind, it certainly got Roman’s attention. The sandy blond boy turned his head just enough that his cheek rested against Patton’s chest, eyes glued to the wizard.

A moment later, Logan produced a plastic wand. The pink shaft was a little too large for his tiny hands and the star at its end seemed to flash with tiny lights (no doubt running off of a few double A’s).

“I can cast a spell on him!” Logan offered confidently.

“But yes’rday you said magi’ wasn’t real,” Virgil whispered, still clinging to Patton’s shirt.

“Turn him into a frog!” Remus demanded eagerly; his pouting forgotten.

“Yeah, but I read it in one of my books today, so it has to be real! Right, Patton?” Logan asked, looking up at him expectantly, the others following his lead.

“Oh of course!” Patton reassured with a large grin. “Magic is very real.”

“It is?” Janus asked, suddenly invested in the conversation.

Virgil reacted in a very different manner, burying his face deeper into Patton’s side and giving a small cry. “Magi’ is scary! I dun wanna be turned into a frowg!”

“Oh sweetie,” Patton cooed, messing with the youngest child’s hair. “It’s not that type of magic,” he reassured.

“What other type of magic is there?!” Remus demanded, inching closer as he bounced with elation. “The type that can turn him into a giant squid?! Or make toilets talk?!”

“Ew!” Roman whined in response, once again earning a chuckle from Patton.

“I’m afraid not,” Patton admitted with no little amusement. “No, this kind of magic isn’t just reserved for very smart wizards.”

“It’s not?” Logan asked, moving closer and sinking down as well.

“Oh no. We all have magic of our very own that we can use whenever we want.”

“Nuh uh…” Janus breathed though he didn’t sound too convinced.

Patton nodded continuing. “Sure, we do.”

“What’s my power?!” Remus asked impatiently, “Can I make lasers come out my eyes?! Or maybe… maybe… um… summon a giant octopuspus to devour my enemies?!” He bounced to his feet roaring loudly as he stomped about.

“Your magic is something far greater,” Patton laughed.

“No way!” Remus breathed in awe; antics forgotten.

“Him?!” Roman gasped in disbelief.

Patton nodded. “Remus has the ability to see into other worlds!”

“Lame!” The boy in question huffed, falling back onto the grass.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked curiously.

“Well, Remus makes such a great villain because he sees things differently then we do,” Patton explained.

“So, he’s evil! I knew it!” Roman declared, shifting in Patton’s arms to simply sit in his lap, wound forgotten.

“Not at all,” Patton countered, acting as if he didn’t see the way Remus blew a raspberry at his brother. “Just because someone is different doesn’t make them evil.Though it can be scary, differences are what gives us our power. Take Logan for example.”

“Me?” Logan blinked in surprise, clinging to his wand a bit more self-consciously.

“Mm hmm,” Patton nodded. “Logan understands Remus better than anyone. He can understand how Remus sees the world.”

“So, he’s evil too?” Janus asked.

“I am not!” Logan cried.

“No one here is evil,” Patton laughed. “No, Logan’s magic power is that he can understand anything if given enough time.”

“So, you can figure out where chocolate milk comes from?!” Roman asked, pointedly staring at Logan who now sat a bit straighter.

“Well, if regular milk comes from a regular cow… and Patton says cows are just like oversized dogs… and there are a lot of different kinds of dogs… Then chocolate milk has to come from chocolate cows.” Logan explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Whoa! There are chocolate cows?! That’s so cool!” Roman gasped.

Patton was about to speak when his attention was pulled to the small hands tugging on his shirt in a patient persistence.

“Yes, Virgil?” Patton asked softly.

“Wha’s my magi’?” The youngest boy asked in a hushed whisper as the rest talked among themselves.

“You, my dear sweet shadowling,” Patton whispered, booping his nose. “have one of the strongest powers among us.”

“I do?” Virgil’s eyes grew wide, his hand lifting to his mouth to suck on his two fingers. It would be a few more years before Patton could manage to break him of the habit but it was cute nonetheless.

“Oh, yes. You have the power to protect. You tell us when something could hurt us or do damage in a way we haven’t noticed. In a way… You can see the future.” Patton’s allowed his voice to turn a bit wispy as if humbled by Virgil’s power.

“Sounds like a bunch of lies to me,” Janus interrupted, obviously eavesdropping.

“No one asked you!” Roman spat. “You didn’t even help protect your prince and now I’ve got a boo-boo! It’s not like you have any magic! ” He pointed at his knee, lifting it to put the scratch on display.

“Well, neither do you!” Janus argued.

“Oh, I think you both are pretty powerful when it comes to magic,” Patton offered.

“Well of course I am… I’m a prince!” Roman announced.

“Janus does too, Roman.” Patton mitigated.

“Like what?” Remus butted in, more curious that malicious.

“Well, Janus can work magic on people’s feelings,”

“I can?” Janus blinked in surprise.

“Well, of course Kiddo. You’re the best at it! You always know just what to say to make Remus feel better after he loses against the Prince’s armies,” Patton explained, “And you always know how to answer Roman’s questions about his costumes.” Naturally, Patton left out the fact that Janus used little white lies to work his magic and that he didn’t quite agree with the method, but the results were noteworthy.

“Boring!” Roman whined. “What about me?” Roman looked up at Patton expectantly.

“You, dear prince,” Patton replied, nuzzling him affectionately. “have the ability to change the world as we know it. You can push us to follow every passion our heart desires. You give us the very drive that will sustain us throughout our lives. ”

“What? That’s not fair! Why didn’t I get a cool power like that?” Remus huffed, sulking once more.

“’Cause I’m the Prince and I say so!” Roman answered, squirming in Patton’s arms. “Now, be quiet, Patton is talking about me!”

“Mneh!” Remus stuck out his tongue once more, but his brother ignored him.

“Now, now. I think all of your powers are cool,” Patton attempted.

“But Patton…” Logan mumbled, softly, as he stared up at the seemingly grown man. “What’s your power?”

Patton’s chest tightened at the question. Leave it to Logan to pull at the one string Patton wasn’t prepared for. What was Patton’s power? He manifested just as they all did, only he was the first. He grew faster than the rest of them, unable to keep up with Thomas growth, unable to keep up with his insecurity.

He was just Patton…. He had no magic… He wasn’t special. Not like the others.

He forced his smile to remain in place, trying not to let his voice crack as he answered. “Why would I ever need to be more than just happy pappy Patton when I get to spend time with all of you amazing magicians?”

“Patton?” Logan called, his voice distant and far too baritone to be coming from the pudgy boy before him. “Patton are you in here?” Logan called again causing the man to glance over his shoulder.

The memory he had immersed himself in froze, the boys still staring up at him.

He wiped a tear from his eye quickly and waved his hand, the children disappearing, leaving him alone in the small field behind their childhood home.

“I’m over here!” Patton called, standing and dusting off his pants, trying not to feel the loss. They had needed him so thoroughly. Everything was so different now. The boys were all grown. They all faced Thomas’ problems with a maturity Patton never could seem to muster. No doubt they thought him the child now.

Logan strode up the small hill in his usual dark polo and striped tie adorning his broad shoulders.

“There you are,” Logan greeted with the same half smile he always did.

“Sorry, did you need something?” Patton asked softly, forcing his smile to turn warm.

“Yes, actually,” Logan admitted. “It seems Remus and Roman are fighting again, and Virgil and Janus are placing bets on who can make the most constructs in the imagination. It is truly a disaster. There are puppies and octopoda everywhere. No one will see reason. I could really use your help.”

Patton softened a bit at the words. Maybe they still needed him… just a tiny bit. He supposed he could live with that.

“Puppies?!” Patton squealed in excitement.

Logan’s gaze moved about the scene taking it in, obviously having expected Morality’s reaction. “Isn’t this…” he hesitated, turning on his heel. “Wasn’t this the field behind our home back in Orlando?”

“Oh…” Patton breathed, flushing slightly. “Is it?”

“It is! Thomas used to play out here all the time! We all did!” Logan mused, with a small huff of laughter. “Wow, it has been quite some time.”

Patton offered a melancholy smile as he glanced around. He missed it all. It was nice to have the memories though. At least he could relive it when ever he wanted. Though he doubted Logan would even bother to try to remember-

“You know 7% of Americans really do believe chocolate milk comes from chocolate cows,” Logan informed him, “And Roman is still one of them.” He laughed.

Patton’s heart fluttered at the fact that Logan remembered such a minute detail. He really was magic.

The sound of Logan’s deep chuckle had Patton joining him. “Best not spoil it for him,” Patton teased lightly as Logan offered out an arm for him to take as they headed out of the memory.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Logan reassured.

La Fin.

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tribulationwatchman · 3 years ago

Text

Jesus Christ, the Son of God and Son of Man, wanted to be followed but not worshipped? Is that true?

As we get closer and closer to End Times, it seems there are two different directions people are going pertaining to Christianity. One direction goes towards apostasy and godlessness, two conditions of the world's birth pains that were prophesied in the Holy Bible.

The other direction is more for God as people are coming back stronger in the Church. Not only that, people -- young, old, man, woman, all cultures, and all skin colors -- are becoming more involved and understanding of what Jesus Christ wanted. They are able to evangelize their testimony as well as the credibility of the Holy Bible too.

So when I came across the statement that, "Jesus Christ wasn't supposed to be worshipped, just followed," I was surprised. I will be honest and say I am more than halfway in reading the Holy Bible in its entirety from end to end, but is it really true that Jesus Christ wasn't supposed to be worshipped and just followed? Well, let's dive into the New Testament and find out, shall we?

Where did the belief that Jesus Christ wanted to be followed and not worshipped come from?

Before diving into the Holy Bible and finding not just verses but storied events proving Jesus Christ received worship, we must identify the cunning snake near the Tree of Life (my version of saying the elephant in the room). Where did the belief that Jesus Christ wanted to be followed and not worshipped come from?

There is no one primary reason where the aforementioned belief of Jesus Christ only wanting to be followed and not worshipped came from, but it probably comes down to the fact most popular Bible verses about Jesus Christ either centers on His love or justification of acceptance.

I mean the two most popular Bible verses among most people center on the extent of Jesus's love or what love is.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." -- John 3:16

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud." -- 1 Corinthians 13:4

True most people only take the quote at face value and never take into account the whole chapter, the whole book, or daresay the whole Holy Bible in what it means, but the aforementioned quotes are still the two most popular quotes in the Holy Bible nevertheless.

And without taking the whole Holy Bible into account especially the Old Testament, quotes are taken out of context or misinterpreted on what they mean.

Both sides of the political spectrum have used this tactic for their own selfish and personal means. The left has used it to justify the LGBTQ+ movement and pro-choice, the right has used it to justify the Right to Bear Arms and taxation without representation.

Self-Justification over what God wants

What is the one thing that stands out about the most popular Bible verses and how they relate to people today? They CAN be used for self or society serving purposes. The thing is that with Bible verses that are straightforward serving or putting God first, there is no way someone can justify them for self or society serving purposes.

That is why such verses of putting God first over self, following Him, and the like, are not popular. But let's take it even further. How about worshipping God? There are plenty of verses that show God the Father being worshipped but what about God the Son, Jesus Christ?

Jesus Christ accepted worship

I will be blunt. Jesus Christ accepted worship. You, as well as most people especially those who just know scripture by verses instead of reading the whole thing, may not know that. However, there are plenty of events that happened showing Jesus Christ recieving worship.

Compelling Truth does a great job explaining and detailing events and verses that show Jesus Christ accepted worship but I will use just three of the examples they use.

First example is when the Three Wise Men arrived to Jesus Christ. Technically, the men were magi, scholars of Old Testament whom knew the prophecies. When they arrived to Jesus Christ, they knew the prophesies and humbled themselves by worshipping the child and bearing gifts fit for a king.

"And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh." -- Matthew 2:11

After Jesus Christ's resurrection, many -- including the remaining apostles except for Thomas -- worshipped Him. The verse pertaining to worship specifically states worship despite that same verse saying some doubted.

"And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted." -- Matthew 28:7

As for Thomas, there is a reason he is known as "The Doubter." He doubted Jesus Christ especially when he rose from the dead. Jesus was fully ressurected and standing in front of Thomas but Thomas still doubted. It was until Jesus Christ let Thomas touch the spear wound on His side did Thomas recognize Jesus Christ and worshipped Him by proclaiming that Jesus Christ is not just lord but God!

"Then He (Jesus Christ) said to Thomas, 'Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.' Thomas answered him, 'My Lord and my God!' Jesus said to him, 'Have you believed because you have seen Me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.' -- John 20:27 to 29

The "Proskuneo" Factor

One of the biggest issues people have about Jesus Christ receiving worship is that of "Proskuneo" which is defined as "to bow down to the ground before someone and kiss his feet, the hem of his garment, or the ground in front of him."

An example of Jesus Christ receiving proskuneo but possibly no worship is in Revelation when God the Father makes all of Satan bow down before Jesus Christ. They were not worshipping Jesus though but were committing proskuneo. Ergo, people like to use this example to mean that Jesus did not receive or call to be worshipped.

Why many kings and monarchs who follow other gods received proskuneo by definition too. What makes Jesus Christ different?

If Jesus Christ was not God and He was devotedly loyal to God the Father, he would deny worship. Many prophets, people of God the Father, and even heavenly beings serving and coming on behalf of God, especially angels, denied worship when people gave it to them.

Yet, Jesus Christ accepted worship because He was and still is God.

#Jesus Christ #worship #Christianity #God #Christ Follower #Jesus #God the Son #christianity

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darkhymns-fic · 4 years ago

Text

On a Night of Snow and Wine

On New Year's Eve, Lloyd and Colette stop at Flanoir, having no time to visit anywhere else and just quietly usher in the year that would come… Until wine is involved.

When it comes to alcohol, Lloyd was a lightweight. And sometimes, feelings can just slip out.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Technically my last fic for 2020! Thanks for sticking with me this year.

The last time Lloyd had been tipsy was when he had been 12 years old, unsupervised, and much too full of confidence for his own good. His father’s ale cabinet had been thoroughly locked up, hidden away in a storage room full of spices and herbs. Sometimes he'd see Dirk get a small mug, bringing with it full of something frothy and dirt-colored.

So of course, he had been instantly curious.

Lloyd had already been practicing his lockpicking, and it was only a matter of hours before he finally got to the contents. He didn't exactly understand why it said ‘spirits’ on the bottle in Dwarven script, but he wanted to try it anyway. After all, he was supposed to learn all the Dwarven things from his dad, so why not this?

Dirk came home from log-cutting to find his son passed out on the wooden floors, the one bottle he had taken barely half-drunk. The Dwarven Vows he had to learn that night had been particularly ancient, with their meanings convoluted and making his head hurt. He of course forget them the very next day. Re-learning them wasn't any easier.

So, it just seemed only a bit similar, when the inn sent him and Colette some wine to their room for the night, a complimentary gift in celebration of the new year. Flanoir was once again blanketed in snow, the lampposts softly lighting up the steeple of the cathedral nearby, making the white seem so much brighter than before.

"Oh, for us?" Lloyd asked, as Colette handed over the bottle to him that the innkeeper had personally given. "It looks so fancy! And...we're actually not paying for it?" Lloyd would never say no to some free stuff!

The wine bottle had a name printed on it that Lloyd only vaguely recognized. (Did it say 'Altamira' on it?) The liquid in it was a deep red, one that caught the light of the magi-technology lamps nearby. The iron heater that stood in the corner of their room gave off enough warmth to stave off the cold, even if it made him somewhat sleepy.

"They were so nice to give it to us!" Colette occasionally blew into her hands, barely seen mist appearing in the air as she did so. Next to her, their cloaks lay on the backs of chairs, placed as close to the heater as possible. Her cheeks were a flushed red, the cold getting to her - but her smile was so wide, he didn't think he'd seen her this happy recently.

"Yeah. I guess we have some cups around here…" Lloyd was hesitant though, worried the last time he had drank anything. This was alcohol, wasn't it? Maybe I shouldn't…

"Oh, that's okay, Lloyd. I know I shouldn't drink."

The sureness in her voice was surprising. Too sure. The kind of sureness that Lloyd knew she was covering something else up. "Huh? Why shouldn't you? We're old enough now! Or uh, close enough!" They missed the mark by a few years, but at 18, he felt Colette was allowed at least a sip of wine!

Colette's once bright smile dimmed a bit, clasping those chilly hands of her together. "I was just taught that I shouldn't, you know? It might make me too silly… A Chosen can't-" she stopped, pausing on the word and sighing. "Sorry."

Lloyd instantly saw the problem.

With a flourish, Lloyd went to the glass cups that were set for them on a nearby table, quickly handing one to Colette. "Well now you definitely are!"

"Oh? It's okay, really! I shouldn't have to-"

"Colette, you're not a Chosen, remember? We've been over this." He said so as he struggled to pull out the cork in the wine bottle, even going so far as to plant his foot on a chair to give him more force (and height?) "No matter what people still call you, no matter what anyone says. You're Colette! And you're allowed to do what you want- Ah!" Lloyd finally freed the cork which flew through the air, hitting him square in the forehead. "Ow…"

Colette gasped, but also let slip out a small giggle, the sound soft and airy within the warm inn room. The fire in the heater next to them crackled, warm light illuminating the floors beneath them. "Lloyd…"

"Come on, gimme your cup! We're drinking!" He couldn't help but notice how Zelos-like he sounded, but he hoped it wasn't too weird. "We've worked hard all year for the Exspheres, so it's fine!"

"Mm...okay!" Colette eagerly held out her cup, watching as Lloyd carefully poured the wine into it. The drink sloshed dangerously to the rim, but she adjusted her hold to not spill a drop. She had gotten less clumsy over the years.

Lloyd remembered when he had simply drunk straight out of the bottle from Dirk's brewery cabinet, and the gruff voice that had pierced his foggy dreams in his hangover. Not this time though! Lloyd figured it was because he didn't drink it out of a cup like he was supposed to.

Once done, the wine bottle was half-empty, set back down on the table. The glass reflected the falling snow outside, as well as the lights of others that walked past, celebrating the evening with a soft stillness that could only be found here in this snowy place.

Lloyd grinned, held his cup up and encouraged Colette to do the same. "It does smell kind of weird but it probably tastes okay!"

Colette mimicked him, standing tall, and holding her cup to his, their glass surfaces clinking against the other. "Hehe. Should we share ours? I heard that's what you're supposed to do."

"Oh really? Let's do that!" Lloyd barely questioned it, bringing his own glass to her mouth, watching the way her breath misted in the air. But less now, since it was getting warmer in this room, and so comfortable too. "This works?"

"Yeah! I'll try not to spill!" Even as her very own laughter threatened that, even as her very own feet was close to tripping over his. Their boots were still wet from walking in the knee-deep snow outside, noses numb from the chilly breeze, from the white flakes in the air. But again, he had never seen her happier.

Besides, just one drink shouldn't mess him up too much, should it?

Even as Colette nearly misjudged the angle of her cup against his lips, Lloyd adapted. The wine was warm, a little tingly, and it didn't taste as yummy as he had hoped. But it was so warm, and he could only imagine how Colette must have felt that warmth, contrasting the chill against her cheeks.

He should have been more worried about him messing up, angling the cup too far to let some wine slip down her chin. "Uh oh! Sorry!"

"Ah! L-Lloyd!" Her laughter was light, and she used her free hand to grip his shoulder, fingers creasing the rough fabric of his jacket.

"Don't worry though, it's free anyway!" And he started to laugh too, just a small chuckle, one that morphed like the slow build of a thunderstorm. But the drink made his chest feel light, and that same warmth traveled all the way down his arms and legs, even to the very tips of his ears. "This stuff … it's pretty good!"

Oh, maybe just even one sip for him was already too much…

"It is good! But, are you okay, Lloyd?" Colette tilted her head, so full of curiosity, as she always was with everything. "You're moving your feet a lot."

"I am?" Lloyd looked down, and what do you know? His feet kept shuffling around a bit, as if he was trying to dance! That was pretty weird.

"Haha, weird!" And as he looked down, he nearly upended his drink, and doing so as if he was stuck in water, his movements stretched out.

"Oh, careful!" Colette had to gently take Lloyd's cup from his hand, while also pulling her own back. "Heh, now you're being a bit silly…"

"That bad?" he asked, half-serious. "I wanna be cool, not silly!" But he could hear it in his voice. He was definitely being silly, maybe more than silly. The same familiar fog, pleasant and nice, so nice that he could almost fall asleep to it…

But he didn't sleep. He only kept looking at Colette, who seemed a little giddy herself, though just by a little bit. "You're still really cool, Lloyd."

"I am?" And again, another chuckle left him, tickling his sides. It felt different when she called him cool, even now. It made his heart leap across miles and miles. "I guess I'm also silly too…"

"That's right," Colette said. She took his hands in her own, swaying along with him, as if what he was doing was the most amazing thing and she also wanted to try. "You can be both!"

She still laughed so freely, like she always had. Except...more now. Years before, he'd felt that she would hold back, keeping her voice from being too loud, or holding her hands so close to herself, as if trying to be as small as possible. Sometimes, he'd see her go back to that, to old habits and routines, to all those proper ways of being a Chosen - to be more Chosen-like, like he once said to her.

The room was a bit spinny, and the warmth in his limbs, in his chest, now made it to his head, as if he was being wrapped in a fluffy blanket. It shouldn't be normal to get drunk this fast, should it…?

Oh. That's what Dirk had said to him all those years ago. "Lad, how'd you go and get yourself drunk?" Dirk had been so peeved that his thick accent had slipped, making his words nigh-unintelligible to Lloyd's ears then.

He was drunk now, and he was falling, almost. Colette still held onto his hands, keeping him steady. He heard the concern there, just as her words trailed through the air. "Lloyd..?"

Even three years later, Colette was still Colette.

Lloyd reached out, arms encircling her close. "Hm...maybe tired. Maybe…" And her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the way she would on those cold nights outside, when their campfire would slowly dim, and they had to find the warmth wherever they could.

"Aw, but it's not even midnight yet." Her sadness was mostly feigned, but there was a hint of it there, just enough. "If you really wanted to sleep, we can."

It was getting too easy to fall asleep, to want that soft fuzziness in his head to surround him completely. But could he resist it? "Hmm...but… it's not midnight yet, you're right! Gotta wake up.. and not have the room spin.."

"Oh, Lloyd." Colette placed a hand over his head, fingers threading through his hair, tangles unfurling at her very touch. Too relaxing, but he didn't want to mention that. "Maybe we should have water to balance out the wine?"

"Mmhmm.." he nodded, but his gaze was caught by the way Colette's hair was framed by the window. Snowflakes continued to drizzle outside, on Flanoir where it was eternally winter. Even in Iselia, snow was so rare, he had mainly just heard of it in class when he could care to pay attention.

Outside it looked so cold still, not unlike the warmth inside, with the heater next to them, and Colette's arms around him like the softest scarf...

Lloyd picked his head up immediately, standing straight. Wait, he knew how to solve this! "We should go outside. Yeah! And…wait… we should go flying! Right now!"

Colette's hand paused in the middle of her hair-stroking, making part of Lloyd a little sad at it's absence. "Are you sure? We just got inside!" Another small space between breaths, spoken carefully. "And your wings…"

He knew what she meant, deep in the back of his head, in the part where it wasn't drowned out by wine and the dizzying heat he felt when Colette looked at him just so. What he felt for her was solid and real - and so unlike his wings at all. He had rarely used them since the first time, unsure about their reliability. A Rheiard was solid, and his very own feet were more dependable. Heck, even Noishe he could trust to get to where he needed to be.

But sometimes you needed to take a risk, didn't you?

With a grin, he leaned in to kiss Colette, fast and full of rushing feelings that threatened to completely overwhelm him. But in a good way, where his heart was beating so hard and flushing warmth and energy all throughout his body. Colette only made a small little sound of surprise, one felt against his lips before she kissed him back.

It wasn't the first time they had ever kissed, and Lloyd couldn't imagine a time there could be a last. It felt like everything, wrapped into one, his heart so full he was sure it would overflow.

He had felt like this before; something so close to desperation that he would do anything at all to keep it near him. All of it had built, and he had to do something with that intense feeling, to keep it as steady as Colette would do for him.

He leaned back, even as he was reluctant to leave her mouth. Her lips were half-parted, and the mist of her breath was still there, ephemeral like the steam of a hot drink. It made him want to lean again and swallow it up, to take that heat within him.

But he also saw the reflection of a bright blue in her eyes. "Lloyd!"

With that, he knew. Grinning wide, Lloyd reached to open up the window of their inn room. Cold wind rushed forth, instantly waking him up and be grateful for the pricks of ice he felt at his cheeks. "Let's go!"

Behind him, his wings stretched, floating motes of sapphire sprinkling out into the air, dancing with the snowflakes that drifted inside. Colette's hair whipped around her, but she was laughing and smiling too. "Now you really are being silly!"

"I know!" Lloyd grabbed Colette by the hand, one foot already on the windowsill and leading her out. "Let's keep flying until it's the new year!"

"But how will we know?" Yet that didn't stop Colette from following him, already leaning out the window with Lloyd, thin spans of pink leaving her back.

"Uh...we can guess!" And he didn't want to wait, he didn't want this feeling to end, so he took both her hands, stretched forth his wings, and soared out into the sky with her.

Flanoir was always so deeply covered in snow, and only a few times had he seen it from above in a Rheiard. The city looked like an array of little dollhouses, like the kind his dad would sometimes make for certain commissions. But that was always way high up, not like now, where their wingtips brushed across rooftops, and where they could hear the crunch of snow from people down below.

The air was so cold, and without their cloaks, they were exposed even more to the elements, the snow already damping his hair and jacket. His smile must have been frozen on his face. Maybe even their locked hands were frozen too!

Colette only held on tighter, not seeming to mind at all. "It's still so cold!"

"But it's good, isn't it?" Lloyd could only remember that one moment from her, on the way the snow had fallen on her hair, on how she reached out to catch them until they melted against her palm. Though maybe it felt different to having the snow fly against your face instead.

If other people had noticed them- and how could they not, with the way they laughed and shouted while flying high like excitable birds - he didn't mind. He couldn't, because even as they flew, he could only grasp the joy on her face, on how tightly she gripped his fingers, and how her wings made a pink pattern against the night sky.

...They didn't fly long before Colette pointed out to him. "Look out, Lloyd!"

"Uh!" His wings beat again, making small blizzards around themselves. He swerved around the steeple he had nearly crashed into, feet stumbling onto a snow-and-ice covered roof.

Then promptly, he fell right on his butt. And then just as promptly, Colette fell right on him, a mass of limbs and wings.

The snow continued to fall, and the air was still so very cold. Lloyd looked up into the night sky, right through the top foremost shape of Colette's right wing. "...Is it midnight yet?" Oh, he was going back to feeling tired.

"Ehe…" Colette giggled softly, sitting up, her cheeks so red, her hair a little ruffled. "There's a clock on one of these buildings. I don't think we're on it though."

Too hard to read clocks...too hard to move. The snow made a nice pillow, in a way.

"Should be able to tell by the stars up there…" he muttered, head laying back on the roof, unmindful to how much snow was sneaking into his jacket collar. "I bet it's already really close."

"Yeah," Colette agreed, her hands reaching out to his face, cold palms pressed against his equally cold cheeks. She was quick to connect with him this way, the natural motion never questioned, never unwanted. "And when it's passed, it means I got to spend a whole year with you."

Lloyd knew then why he felt this way, the sudden rush, the sudden desperation that made him kiss her so deeply and take her flying up into the sky, on wings that he only relied on when he had no choice left.

There was a time when Colette was not supposed to live this long. Still the years kept on growing, and still she was here.

"You always will, Colette," he told her, leaning into her touch. "For a lot more years. A lot more." It was the one real fear he had, but her cold palms that turned warm at the touch of his skin, and the wings that kept her slightly afloat, were all things that were a part of her, all still here.

Maybe, she remembered too, because her eyes brightened then, catching both violet and azure. Or maybe, it was the wine finally catching up to her, finally unlocking all the little things inside that filled her chest, close to overflowing.

"You promise I will?" she asked him, voice soft. That I can stay by your side?

Lloyd reached out to her, pulled her down, both of them so, so warm against the cold. "I promise."

So strange, to feel so light yet so heavy, to feel the heat in one's skin and yet also a deep chill. But his shiver as he kissed her again, on a slope of a snowy rooftop, was one of warmth instead. The steeple of the church was engraved against the sky, but the stars outnumbered it by so much.

Their clothes were soaked, and even his wings ached a little. But Colette was all around him and that was enough. I promise you'll stay with me, for every year.

#tales of symphonia #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd #fanfiction

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thecursedhellblazer-arc · 4 years ago

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‘Cause We’re Living in a Mad World

{ @adventurepunks }

(( Hiiii! I fished this out of a couple of memes I had done ages ago and...it seemed fun and it gave me the chance to ramble about stuff we mentioned, so...here you go! It’s mostly Nick and John, but I throw in some Zee because the gal deserves some space :3 ))

Who said “I love you” first Definitely John. He was either drunk or totally out of it for not having slept in days (or both) and Nick had been forced to escort his sorry ass to lie down somewhere. Among all the incomprehensible, nonsensical babbling he had been doing, at some point he had just gone on and mumbled something on the lines of “N’ aye, tha’ th’ bloody t’in’, Cap. I think I do love yeh...I bloody do”. By the time Nick had registered the non-sequitur, John had been out cold and drooling very much unattractively on his pillow, leaving his mentor to wonder, hardly for the first time, what the hell he was supposed to do about his disaster youth.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background Neither of them does. John doesn’t have a phone (and that’s the reason why both Nick and Zatanna dread the times he uses the one in the Sanctum to phone Chas back to London...Two hours of non-stop Scouse rambling about everything one can find worth complaining about). As for Nick, he simply doesn’t bother with such things. However, John has one, slightly creased picture of him and Nick (a Polaroid taken by accident by some tourist who had been nice enough to hand it over to John) and another with the two them and Zee glued against the wall of his bedroom, right next to a group photograph of his closest English mates, a picture of him and Chas and a black and white one of a younger Cheryl. Also, Zatanna has made sure to have a better, properly framed picture of the three of them hanging inconspicuously from one of the walls in the main room of the Sanctum, not enough to catch the eye, but in a position that makes sure that you must look at it if you know that it’s there. Nick never acknowledged any of those, but you might catch his eyes wandering in the direction of the pictures every time he is in the room with them (yes, at times he dares to wonder in that reign of chaos that’s John’s bedroom).

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror John...when he is trying to be funny. Usually he writes the messages on some other window or piece of glass and then magicks them on the bathroom mirror when he knows that either Nick or Zatanna are inside. Of course, he doesn’t always get it right and at times the wrong person receives a message that wasn’t intended for them. Like Nick finding questions about women lingerie (he never asks, because he is pretty sure that, whatever John wants with it, it’s not something he wants to know or guess). The most memorable mishap, at least in Zee’s opinion, has been when, after having come back from one of her shows at 3 am and after a very much earned shower, she had found herself staring at the suddenly foggy mirror while the words “wudl u shag me een if I ws a gost?” materialised on it. Judging by the bad spelling and by how smeared the calligraphy was, John had to be shitface drunk, wherever he was. Not that the fact excused him in her eyes. Not in the least. She had marched out of the bathroom, told Nick that John wanted to talk to him and then had gone to bed. Useless to say, Nick had gone from confused to extremely unimpressed as soon as he had seen the note on the mirror.

Who buys steals the other cheesy gifts John is the one who, from time to time, comes back from his wanderings bearing “gifts”, pretty much like a not so domesticated cat would do. Thankfully, usually they aren’t dead animals (aside that one time with the still dripping goat’s head...but they don’t talk about it). They range from things he has won at the poker table to stuff he has either con out of someone’s hands or straight out nicked. He has learnt pretty quickly that he can’t tell Zatanna if he’s giving her something he has stolen, not after the one time she has forced him to return the necklace he had got her, much to his annoyance and embarrassment. This has also caused him to get more stuff for Nick than for her. She’s always suspicious now (and with reasons), while his mentor doesn’t really care how he has got his hands on it. The only one time the older sorcerer has shown concern about John’s kleptomaniac habits has been when the younger man brought home a very ancient, very valuable, and also very cursed book. The cleansing ritual took them hours. However, on the other hand, it turned out that the contents of said tome were very much worth the trouble, so John got away with just a mild scolding, much to Zatanna’s incredulity.

Who initiated the first kiss Nick did...after John had driven him crazy with half angry flirting and ambiguous provocations (and talks about shagging ghosts). The whole situation had started from a lot of unresolved tension between them (and not of the good kind), but considering where it has landed them...It might as well have been worth it, even if the original issue lies still mostly unsolved.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning If anyone does in the first place, it would probably be Nick, for the mere reason that John isn’t an early bird (unless he simply forgoes sleeping completely), no matter in whose bed he falls asleep. However, it’s still far more likely that Nick chooses to wakes him up by shaking him or with a shove, simply because something as light as a kiss wouldn’t do the job. Or it would lead to John getting his hands busy even before he has opened his eyes and that’s unacceptable when they have a schedule and lessons to attend to. A few times, John has crawled in Nick’s bed before dawn and, in those occasions, he is the one to wake his mentor up with kisses. There’s an equal chance of either being kicked out of the room pr being allowed to carry on, and, in his eyes, the second thing is definitely worth facing the risk of rejection. John usually gets his nicest wake up calls from Zatanna, when she lures him out of the sheets with a kiss on the cheek and the promising smell of coffee and bacon. She has also learnt to throw a fresh pair of underwear in his face before walking back to the kitchen, though, because that’s the only way to make sure he doesn't show up stark nake for breakfast.

Who starts tickle fights Tickle fights aren’t something that happens frequently, but they did happen. Mostly when they were all at least a bit tipsy. John started the very first one, almost accidentally, by rambling about how Cheryl used to tickle him till he cried and couldn’t breathe as a payback for when he messed with her things. Useless to say, that led him to ask Zatanna if she was ticklish and to the poor homo magi being assaulted. Nick had made the mistake to declare that he found the whole affair “undignified”, which had been enough to make John tackle and tickle him too. Zatanna might have retaliate, on them both (John for starting it, Nick for not defending her), even though, if asked, she would deny it. After that episode, both Zatanna and Nick have become very, very wary of whenever John is drunk and feeling both touchy-feely and playful. Of course, he still manages to find a way to catch them both off guard.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower John’s “asking” consists in him sticking his head inside the bathroom (or straight past the shower curtain) and make comments about how there’s just enough room for another person under the stream or about how great he is at scrubbing backs, full trademark smirk in place. Nick usually asks before anyone gets in the shower and it usually happens after a very intense roll in the sheet when all the participants might use a wash up. However, there have been times when he has just hopped in the shower while John was already in it, without warnings or questions, because the smug idiot can use a taste of his own medicine from time to time. The main issue with that tact is that John, after the initial moment of astonishment, always gets a bit too mesmerised to really grasp the lesson.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch Nick can get completely absorbed in his studying and researches and John at times forgets that human beings need to eat to survive, so it’s definitely Zee. When she is around, she makes sure to bring them both, if not a full meal, at least a snack twice a day. She has found that it usually also prevents John from raiding their fridge during the night and, considering how messy that affair gets, it’s a very good thing. When Zatanna isn’t around, Nick is the one who has a more “regular” (if it can be called that) routine, so he takes over the task of keeping them both fed (also because John can’t be trusted around the kitchen at). There are times, though, when John knocks at Nick’s door, after making sure that the older man is done with whatever he’s doing, with takeaway already laid down at the table or saying that he has discovered a new pub that makes nice steaks or pizza and that they should totally go and try it out.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date Definitely John, even if, as per usual, he covered it up with cockiness and smugness. Especially since he felt like a idiot for being nervous in the first place. He and Nick had gone out plenty of times together (with and without Zatanna), so sharing a night that was perhaps a bit more intimate shouldn’t have been such a big deal. And yet, he still spent an incredibly long amount of time (especially for his standards) tidying himself up in the bathroom and deciding which of his clothes were more suitable for the occasion. It earned him a few raised eyebrows from Nick’s part, which made it clear to them both that the older man knew, but John obviously refused to acknowledge both the gestures and the fact.

Who kills/takes out the spiders Spiders are usually either left to mind their business. Zatanna might use her magic to coax them out of a window when they are in the way, but for the rest no one really cares. It doesn’t happen too often that they manage to get inside the Sanctum, so when they do...it’s safe to say that they have earned their right to stay. There are times, though, when the poor creatures become the unfortunate subjects of John’s practice. Once he has learnt how to open portals towards other realms, it has become very much not unusual to see him trying to shove the spiders inside very small rips in the fabric of reality. Nick has pointed out that he has no way to find out whether or not he has managed to send them where he was planning to, but he has soon given up trying to make John see his point, because his words always earn him nothing but a snicker.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk John, even if calling his drunk claims “love declarations” would be pushing it. For the most, what leaves his lips are comments about his and Nick alone time together and far too bold to be nice compliments. And, if he is really in the mood, also short rants about what he would love for them to do that they haven’t tried yet. Whenever magic or the undead start being thrown in the mix, Zatanna takes it as her cue to dump him in Nick’s capable, even if exasperated, hands and go spend the rest of her night elsewhere. The real slips can happen after John has ceased being loud, when his mind is more in Dreamland than on the material plane. They are quiet whispers, compared to all the noise he makes before, and that alone is very telling of how much more sincere they are.

#john constantine #nick necro #zatanna zatara #long post #(( this is me upgrading the whole ))#(( 'let's find the guts to tag peeps' ))#(( so I'm showering you with my idiocy ))#(( hopefully the effort will make up for the stupid ideas ^^" ))#adventurepunks #* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons::#* Once Upon a Time We Three could have had the World * ::John&Nick&Zatanna::#* Show Me the Way and We'll remake Destiny in Our Image * ::John&Nick:: {adventurepunks}#sv. Every Shade between Darkness and Light

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casualcatte · 4 years ago

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RP Journal: 08/12/2020

Lorrendor finally found the courage to see me, right before dinner. Gods, just hearing his voice filled me with indignant rage, recalling the pathetic excuse of a letter he’d sent. I couldn’t help myself, I picked up the sandwich I’d just made and threw it at him. I kept throwing things at him, whatever came to hand -- which seemed to mostly be produce. After all, throwing rocks at make-believe Bridge-Lorrendor had helped me to feel better, surely throwing fruit and vegetables at the real one would help, too, right?

(Courtesy cut for length because these are never short!)

My rage didn’t last near long enough, though. Just thinking about Tristane and the way Lorrendor had used him against me caused that same upwelling of pain and grief. Lorrendor was… sadly Lorrendor. Apologetic, self-deprecating, like he was trying to say all the things he thought I wanted to hear. He offered nothing to explain himself.

So, I asked him why he did it and what he wanted. He said he wanted to be my friend again. His reasoning for his actions? Because sometimes people will do anything to protect those they care for. How in heaven’s name is using Tristane against me /protecting/ me? Why can’t I get him to understand that I don’t /want/ to be protected. He constantly says that it’s his nature, like I just have to accept that and deal. But what about /my/ nature?

If he wants to protect me from something, he should start with himself, because no matter how hurt I get on the Hunt I always heal. Tristane… Tris is not something I can magically heal. And it hurts ten times worse when people I consider friends use him against me to prove a point. He still never really answered why. Why he thought it was okay to use Tris like that. I’m not sure he’ll ever honestly answer the question, because he knows he was trying to manipulate me.

He insisted that all he wanted was to be my friend and that he regretted how wrong he’d done me. I told him that we could still be friends, but that I could never again trust him as I did. And he could never mention Tristane again. That’s one part of my life that is now off-limits to him. I will never discuss Tris or my feelings about him with Lorrendor again.

During the latter half of this discussion Edgard squeaked his way into the room. Being less… Edgardy, but still Edgard. He made the occasional quip, mostly at me, but generally minded his manners. Bit weird, though, offering to share his silk underwear with Lorrendor. Apparently armor chafes and that’s the cure. Silk underwear. Not much for swimming in, though, given what I saw at the hot springs last night. Either that or Mu-Onna /really/ didn’t interest him.

Once things were more or less settled, everybody had a sandwich. For a moment, it reminded me of the night in Kugane when the two of them drank sochu and I pigged out on dumplings. It was nice and the company was welcome. I hope to have more nights like these and fewer nights spent fighting. We shared a bit of our hunting exploits with Lorrendor, but Edgard soon had to leave to prepare for his return to Ishgard. I certainly hoped he wouldn’t be leaving just yet. I still needed to say good-bye.

I spoke with Lorrendor a while longer and, for some reason, I felt like I would always have to prove myself to him. To prove that I’m competent and capable, not some foolish, headstrong glory-hound that rushes headlong into battle simply for the thrill of it. That’s not who I am either. I plan ahead, I hunt prepared, I play to my strengths. It’s why I don’t /need/ protecting. Protecting just messes with the plan. Protecting doesn’t play to my strengths.

He says he knows I’m capable, that I’m supposedly a better hunter than he is. Yet, he won’t stop bringing up that “bad things happen” as if I don’t know that. /Me./ Of course I know bad things happen. I /watched/ bad things happen as Tristane bled out in my lap. I’m not stupid or reckless, but I’m not going to live my life in fear of “what if” either. If the Twelve decide it’s my day to die, then no amount of protecting or over protectiveness is going to stop them, now is it?

Imagine my surprise when Lorrendor brought forth some research he’d done concerning The Saurotaun. I could hardly believe that his search had found anything of note. Or that he’d be so forthcoming with it given our current state of affairs. I’m sure it was meant as a peace offering, so I took it for what it was.

The Saurotaun, according to his notes, was a construct dating back to the War of the Magi. I couldn’t believe it, every accounting had made it out to be some kind of beast, but a construct made more sense. If it was some kind of magical creature, the hunting party it slaughtered, including my parents, may not have known how best to fight it. Gods, this gave me hope. I’d need more information, of course, but it was more than I’d learned in moons!

He went on to tell me of a sighting in Coerthas near the Convictory. Something about a giant six fulm long footprint as something attacked one of the yaks out there. It apparently tears apart its prey en route, though I’m not sure why. My first thought that it was just a particularly vicious Dravanian; they grew that big, but the habits didn’t seem in line with them. I’d have to ask Edgard what he knows about dragons. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, I’d followed rumors of sightings before only to have them come up for naught.

Even after all I’d said and done to him, he still gave me this sprig of hope when he didn’t have to. He could’ve kept it to himself or not done it at all. He endured my wrath and yet still gave me this gift. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I’m still grateful that he tried. It made me feel somewhat bad for my anger and my temper. I know I’m not what a good friend should be. I made it a point to apologize and thank him for what he’d given me. We’d probably never have the same friendship we had before, but we could at least start over on the right foot.

Not long after, Lorrendor left to return to Ul’dah. And /I/ went to soak in the hot springs. I had a lot to do before I left for Ishgard, so it was probably the last chance I’d have to feel well and truly warm before freezing my beautiful tail off in Coerthas.

I was soon joined by Edgard, of course, but since I owed him a trip to the hot springs I didn’t mind. I’d brought his gift with me anyway, so it was all well and good. Naturally, he seemed more than eager to join me in the water. I swear, that man can be such an idiot sometimes, a right damnable fool.

It took him no time at all to start into his idle flirtations, but I gave as good as I got. So, I’ll just put it to record here that Edgard is my worshiper now and he keeps a shrine in his inn room dedicated to me. Clearly, he’s head over heels for me. He just won’t admit it.

Okay, I can’t even write that with a straight face. How does /he/ do it all the time? He went on to say that he was leaving for Ishgard in the morning and that if I wanted to say farewell to him or give him a good-bye kiss, it had to be tonight. I told him that I had a gift for him. While it wasn’t /quite/ as exciting as a kiss, it would have to do.

The item I commissioned was a feathered hair ornament built from one feather from each Twintail we’d taken captive. It was woven into some leather ties, accompanied by beads and small, glittering gems in blue, purple, and white. Silver discs bearing the date of the hunt in elaborate runes swung just beneath the clasp at the top, so that they would chime together like wind chimes whenever he moved -- If he deigned to wear them, that is. By design, they are meant to be woven into the hair, but can be worn on a cloak clasp, or attached to a pack. The possibilities were endless, really.

Edgard chose to have it woven into his hair, but confessed he had no idea how. So, after asking his permission to touch his snowy tresses, I demonstrated how to braid it in. His hair was so soft, like touching the finest silk, and smelled faintly of lavender. Not what I would’ve expected. I would’ve expected something manly and musky, but no, it’s something soft and soothing. Curious.

I spoke to him about his upbringing and he teased me about parts of it. While I was braiding his hair, I noticed that he’d twitch a bit every time my hand brushed the side of his neck. Ticklish! Naturally, I had to exploit this newfound weakness as punishment for picking on me. So I did. He countered by splashing me with water, which I fully deserved. He also said I could take advantage of him fully if I wanted, if I was going to exploit his ticklish spots.

I went to caress his jaw and flirtingly tease him about being unable to handle being fully taken advantage of -- but he took my hand in both of his and gave me this alluring look as he confessed that he’d take it slow for me. I know he’s just being Edgard, flirting to see what kind of reaction he’d get out of me. For a moment, though, I felt my heart race and my ears flutter nervously. I don’t even know /why/. He’s not serious about anything and neither am I. There was /nothing/ to get nervous about.

He told me how much he enjoyed the hunt, how he hadn’t had that much excitement since the war. I was honestly glad to hear it. What excitement could I possibly offer someone who hunted /dragons/ for a living? I told him I planned to pick up another, probably somewhere in Dravania if I could manage it, since we’d be in Ishgard. He countered that I didn’t have to look so agitated when I asked him, pointing at my ears. Gah, damn traitors!

I just wasn’t certain he’d want to go with me again. Perhaps he finds I’m too reckless for his tastes or that I’m not as amiable company. He’s said a number of times that I’m a different person out there. Maybe he doesn’t like the Huntress and prefers the City-Catte.

He went on to say that he couldn’t wait to go on another hunt, which gave me a strange sense of relief. It felt nice to be accepted for who I really was. Not everyone can. I’m a bright, independent huntress with skill and experience to rival most adventurers in the field. Edgard gets that and, on the hunt, he respected it. He followed my lead and only really questioned me when I put him to the true test in front of the male bi-fang.

I wanted to see what he’d do. Would he leap in to protect me or would he trust my judgement? I’ve seen how he can move, it would’ve been an easy thing for him to jump in there and snatch me out of the bi-fang’s hunting stoop. He didn’t, though, even though I could tell it worried him. I was both proud and grateful to him for that. I spoke volumes for his character and how he regarded me.

I told him that if he “beat” me in a hunt -- which is never going to happen -- he could have any prize he wanted, short of sleeping with me. It’s Edgard, of course that’s the first thing he’d ask for. I admit -- I wasn’t prepared for what he /did/ ask for. He asked me to play the guitar for him.

I haven’t played for anyone else since Tristane, so the request took me by surprise. I must’ve looked… offended or something because Edgard suddenly got up and said I could choose something else. I quickly put that train of thought to rest by telling him the truth of it, which he understood. I did promise him that I’d play.

He thanked me for making his time in Kugane “not so bad” which I’m sure is Edgard-speak for “absolutely perfect” I can read between his lines, it’s fine. We bade each other farewell and promised to see one another in Ishgard.

Now, see, Beaumonts? /That’s/ how you bid someone good-bye. Take note.

Mentions @therpperson for Edgard Beaumont And a bunch of other people who don’t have Tumblr!

#Journal: Rhythm of the Night #Aultena Sephimiri #FFXIV #FFXIV RP #FFXIV Roleplay #Balmung RP #Balmung Roleplay #Balmung Roleplayer #Crystal RP #Crystal Roleplay #Crystal Roleplayer #Character Journal #Lorrendor Hauland #Friendship: Elf-Dad #Edgard Beaumont #Friendship: Pathfinder

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mittensmorgul · 5 years ago

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They are filming ep15 right now (Cas and Jack are working alone on a case) and the fact that Misha will miss one more ep due to his contract makes me think they dropped the empty deal arc. I just cant see them playing it out when they have to set up Jack to be the God killer, Cas to fix heaven, Amara plotline in 4 eps. Plus Dabb implied that Michael!Adam would also come back to defeat God in some form. Thoughts?

hmmm...

*does math in my head* *admits this is dangerous*

So we know that Misha is scheduled to be in 15 episodes this season, leaving five he will not appear in. So far, he has not been in 15.04, 05, and 10. Of the remaining unaired episodes (including the ones he’s already filmed, but haven’t aired yet), that leaves two more that he won’t be in.

And yeah, I really don’t think there’s time to explore the full weight of that deal, especially given that the entire cosmic situation has shifted since he made it. I mean, even the fundamental REASON Cas made it was so Jack would not end up in the Empty. And then Jack... ended up... in the Empty... Kind of a dick move for the Shadow to still try and cash in on that deal, right?

I just think it’s more a factor of them having committed to end the series at the end of s15 that led to the reframing of the deal, you know? If they had intended to go on for a s16, I think it would’ve been heavily dealt with in s15, or even in the back half of s14, but instead things needed to happen to accelerate dusting AU!Michael off the table to make room from Chuck to get all uppity with the story. :’D

They could bring it up as a potential way for Dean and Cas to deal with the rest of their communication issues. Like Cas could tell Dean about the deal, and Dean react to it with a Normal Amount of upset, because it IS reasonable to be upset to learn your best friend literally sold his own happiness in exchange for what he thought would make you happy, you know? Worst Gift of the Magi AU ever. All Dean wants is for Cas to be happy, but he’s willing to trade “enjoying that in a peaceful, not world ending life” and stand by Cas’s side through all their battles to make that happen. All Cas wants is for Dean to be happy, and he’s literally willing to sacrifice his own happiness and life to make that happen.

I think this was at least partly delved into in 15.09, with the very real threat of Cas having taken on a Mark like the MoC, which would eventually drive Dean to a point where he would’ve had to lock Cas in a ma’lak box forever, effectively losing Cas forever. It wasn’t the Empty deal, but the Empty would’ve never been able to collect, because Cas would’ve never been happy after that, you know? But again, I personally think that deal went out the window the moment Jack burned up his own soul to kill AU!Michael. Because I don’t think the Empty ever really wanted Cas... I think the entity was biding its time until everything was ready to bring ALL of Jack to the Empty, as we saw in 14.20... There was a bigger game afoot, and we don’t entirely know what that is yet.

Is Billie’s plan really to kill Chuck? Or is she, like Death always has, pushing at the Winchesters (yes, including Jack and Cas) to do something specific with no intention of them actually DOING the thing, but knowing that Cosmic Level Nudge will set into motion an entirely different sequence of events? Because Death... can’t act directly. Billie has come closest to just saying it outright, in 12.06, and this was before she ascended to that Bigger Picture View of Creation:

Mary: How would it work?Sam: Mom?Mary: You just kill me again?Billie: Reapers don't kill people. Rules.

So many rules... and Billie is so, so good at working around those rules. Even better than OG Death was. 6.11 is still a prime example of how Death functions.

DEATH So, if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl? No fuss, no stomping your feet?DEAN Knowing what I know now, yeah.DEATH I'm surprised to hear that. Surprised and glad.DEAN Yeah, well, don't get excited. I would have saved the nurse, okay? That's it.DEATH I think it's a little more than that. Today, you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order's not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? This is hard for you, Dean. You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine. So... I think you've learned something today.DEAN Want to know what I think? I think you knew that I wouldn't last a day.DEATH I have no idea what you're talking about.DEAN I lost. Fine. But at least have the balls to admit that it was rigged from the jump.DEATH Most people speak to me with more respect.DEAN I didn't mean --DEATH We're done here. It's been lovely. But now I'm going to go to hell to get your brother's soul.DEAN Why would you do that for me?DEATH I wouldn't do it for you. You and your brother keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale.DEAN I apologize for that.DEATH But you have use. Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid Detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean.DEAN So you're just gonna be cryptic, or...DEATH It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to.

Just like Billie’s command to Dean about the Ma’Lak box in 14.10:

Billie: And just look at you now. Do you remember visiting my reading room? The shelves and shelves of notebooks describing the ways you might die?Dean: Yeah. Upbeat classics.Billie: Well, it's the funniest thing, but they've all been rewritten. They all end the same way now -- with the archangel Michael escaping your mind and using you as his vessel to burn down this world.Dean: All of them?Billie: All of them. Except one.

Except... ALL of those books... were wrong... even that one that said the ma’lak box solution was the thing... And I think Billie was HOPING to get that EXACT reaction from Dean We’ll Find Another Way Winchester. But if she hadn’t TOLD him about that one anomalous book of fate, Dean wouldn’t have known to even TRY. And in doing so, in attempting to build that box, his loved ones realized something was super fishy (lol I didn’t intend to make an undersea pun, but there you go) with Dean, and stepped up to support him until out of nowhere, a wildly unexpected solution presented itself. BECAUSE Dean drew strength to keep Michael contained beyond the original prophesied ends... Because Billie “interfered.”

I don’t think Death actually KNOWS what will happen after she shakes up reality, you know? She just knows where to apply pressure in order to force a rewrite of destiny. This was also the entire point of 13.19-- the things you CAN change, versus the things you can’t. And how to give just the right nudge to set those changes in motion.

Well, that went off on a tangent... >.>

Point is, I don’t know for sure that Jack will end up as a God Killer (I mean even in a practical sense, the ONE THING the CW has ever said was that they were not allowed to kill God... I assume that hasn’t changed and am basing my own personal expectations accordingly...). So I’m thinking that whatever the final plan will look like... we haven’t seen it yet. Okay, now back to the point... Cas’s Deal with the Empty.

So regardless of the why (because I try to avoid using a doylist rationale like Misha’s contract or the remaining number of episodes in order to justify narrative choices, because no matter how you slice it, that’s Bad Science right there...), I don’t really see the Empty deal as a threat to Cas anymore. Unless Cas is destined for a tragic end and will be sucked into the empty in the series finale-- which, again, would mean that DEAN would also never be able to be happy, because it’s been explicitly established in text that Dean can’t be happy without Cas, and again, I don’t think the series CAN have a tragic ending, so it’s so unlikely I’m not even bothering to consider it. Except... Cas might not know that because of everything else, his own happiness won’t spell his doom, you know? Which leaves some interesting possibilities on the table for really cool CHARACTER stuff instead. Cas’s fear of finishing that conversation with Dean that Dean’s Purgatory prayer began, for example... because heck that’s treading really dangerously close to words that could make Cas happy... And could be holding him back from continuing that dialogue now, at least for a few more episodes of tension between them.

They may just bring it up again as a WTF Cas? How could you not tell me? moment, just to demonstrate that Cas and Dean truly HAVE resolved their interpersonal conflicts, by having Jack confirm that the deal is null and void because of his arrangement working with Billie and the Shadow now. Or even Cas himself already knowing the deal has been nullified when it’s mentioned in conversation, allowing them to finally have a conversation about what would make them happy, using Cas’s continued existence as a prime factor in Dean’s happiness, and Dean wanting him to stay to be a prime factor in Castiel’s happiness... I think this could be a really interesting way to use the fact that the deal had existed at all could spark that revelation, you know?

But again, all of this is just theory at this point. I could be 100% wrong about all of this. But as you said, with only 9 episodes left (and two of them theoretically not even including Cas... and heck they could do a speed run through the Empty for one of those episodes too... I have no idea what they have planned), I don’t think it’s going to be a long, drawn-out ordeal, you know? They’ve refocused all of the character arcs back into the main story now, and they’re all converging on what will eventually be the series finale, not flinging them all out in opposite directions to generate drama and angst, you know? Different point in the story, different options available to wrap up open threads.

#spn s15 speculation #spn 15.11 #castiel winchester #Anonymous

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alchemine · 5 years ago

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So I have this image in my head that's trying to become more, but is kind of failing. I thought you might like it, though. It's Baxter being sort of sad that there are no roses in the winter - maybe for Christmas, maybe for her birthday - and Molesley surprising her with a bouquet of hellebores since they're "Christmas roses".

I love that image and am so on board with it, except that hellebore is super poisonous, and I’d be afraid he’d kill himself by accident gathering it. 😲

What if he got someone (Daisy? Mrs Hughes?) to teach him how to make paper roses and used the pages of a book to do a bouquet of them, like a Gift of the Magi sort of thing?

‘Joseph, this is so beautiful, but you didn’t really cut up one of your books for me, did you?’

‘It was worth it.’

#baxley

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magicalgirlagency · 5 years ago

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WBMR for Rukia and Orihime from Bleach

Look, unlike most people, I can stomach the series’ ending because at least Ichigo and Renji aren’t pieces of shit like Uchiha Sasuke from Naruto (Uzumaki Naruto is no saint either, but at least he didn’t tried to murder his wife at some point in the series, as far as I am concerned...); I mean, sure, the reason people couldn’t accept Bleach’s ending was because “their ship (IchiRuki) didn’t happened”; but at least: a) There’s fanfiction and it’s all free of charge, and b) I didn’t send out death threats to Tite Kubo, let alone burned merchandise just because “my ship didn’t happened”.

But I’m only doing this because both Rukia and Orihime were unfairly pitted against eachother by the fandom in the past because of their chest sizes and personalities. It’s time to give fictional women the love and respect that was once denied to them (mostly because we had no idea of how incompetent some writers/creators/showrunners can be when handling fictional women).

And also, I hear that Bleach will return in this year of 2020! I wonder how are they gonna do to make it relevant again, because I’m pretty sure no one likes it anymore after the ending (just like how no one likes Naruto anymore)...

I mean, there’ll be its spin-off Burn The Witch, but like... the main series of Bleach? Returning in the new decade? After the fandom’s extreme negative response? Pretty sure everyone will want to Burn The BLEACH (I know, the joke was pretty lousy).

Anyway, let’s get on with the ask, shall we?

Kuchiki Rukia is now Snow Witch Rukia, A-Rank Magi, Assigned Gemstone is Ice Jade, Essence is Water (Ice);

She is admired by many for her gracefulness and being calm under pressure;

However, her lone and cool (pun intended) demeanor needs to be worked on, because it’s holding her back from socializing with other people;

As a Magi, she now works and lives with Orihime. With that being said, both girls are complementary opposites (winter and spring, offense and defense, rationality and imagination);

Given that she is a soul older than any human (about 150 years, at least), Rukia is “wise beyond her years” in the literal sense of the expression;

Although she still gets confused about modern culture sometimes, which may often lead to some unintentionally funny moments.

And now, to my girl Orihime:

Inoue Orihime is now Flower Witch Orihime, B-Rank Magi, Assigned Gemstone is Amber, Essence is Earth (Life)/Light;

Both her and Rukia bond over their love of cute things, and both dislike when others dismiss them;

She is really full of surprises. From her imagination, to her exotic food experiments, Orihime is the gift that keeps on giving;

In action, her heart and brain are always in balance. She dislikes unnecessary movements, because it often leads to people getting hurt (she insists that “every moment and movement counts”);

With the loss of her family, she finds a new one with her Shun Shun Rikka spirits, and starts a boarding house called “Hibiscus Haven”;

Orihime takes pride in her warm and inviting personality, and strongly believes that love shouldn’t be treated as a weakness.

#wondarian bureau of multiversal rescue

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theharellan · 5 years ago

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❥ ♫ ◯ 유

Dragon Age Positivity Meme | Selectively Accepting

❥ your favourite da2 companion

Merrill, unsurprisingly.

I love Merrill because someone who can be quite intelligent yet unequipped to deal with a lot of the realities of existence is #relatable. She is very bright, but simultaneously fails to live up to the expectations placed on her and is awkward to boot. Modern Merrill is definitely one of the gifted millennials who goes on to disappoint. She introduced a lot of interesting concepts, discussing the idea that spirits are just people, but ones that live in another realm. She doesn’t seem to think of it quite the same way Solas does, arguing that “there’s no such thing as a good spirit,” which is something I couldn’t see her saying about humans or elves, etc, but it’s still growth from spirits and demons being separate things, and still growth from them being tools for mages to use. I didn’t play Awakening before I moved onto DA2 because Sigrun’s personal quest broke and I got annoyed, so I missed a lot of what Justice introduced to the lore, and Merrill ended up being my first exposure to that.

There are quibbles I have with her plot. I find it contrived that Marethari gives the arulin’holm to Hawke just to give the player a choice, like no wonder Merrill can literally get hundreds of rivalry points if you refuse her. Her romance can either be you denying her agency or enabling her self-destructive tendencies, but even still she was the first time in Bioware game history I chose to romance a woman first and was a stepping stone on a path to realising I was bi (sometimes I joke she made me gay, but tbh that was a long road that probably started with Harvest Moon making me date women because it only let you play a boy). So I have fondness for it nevertheless.

Anyway, I love Merrill. I think she’s smart but not flawless, and she deserves the world.

♫ your favourite part of the da2 soundtrack

I love Rogue Heart, the song that plays as Marethari enters the Alienage, and possibly in other places, but that’s where I remember it most. Which is strange, really, given that’s a secondary quest you could miss entirely. I like this song paired with that scene in particular because it characterises the Kirkwall Alienage’s relationship with the Dalish well, while City and Dalish elf relations can be strained in places, it’s clear in Kirkwall there’s at leas respect for Keepers. Merrill seems to have some hang-ups about the city, and Feynriel in particular, but I digress. There’s a line in Merrill’s short story where she describes Marethari as, “… the way I imagine the elves of Arlathan did, regal and wise,” and this track coupled with the visuals for Marethari descending the stairs (and some fun character design, I love her gold vallaslin) really make me see why.

◯ your favourite da2 codex entry

Finding one was hard because the ones I kept thinking of actually appeared in DA:I but were relevant to Corypheus so my brain thought they might’ve first appeared in Legacy. Anyway, I enjoy the Enigma of Kirkwall codices despite never actually having completed that quest because I always forget to pick up one of the pieces. There’s so many questions about Kirkwall that make you wonder about it, like why Corypheus was held close to it, if the slaves taken had any relation to those sacrificed by the Magisters Sidereal, tied with questions about who the Forbidden Ones really are and what their role in Elvhenan was supposed to be.

웃 your favourite da:o banter

This is technically two but they’re related so I’m including both:

Shale: Has the elder mage ever encountered another golem?

Wynne: I suppose there used to be one deactivated one stored in the tower's vault. I wonder what became of it. After all that's happened to the circle, I'd be surprised if it isn't completely destroyed.

Shale: Why was it deactivated? Did it crush some arrogant mage's head after one too many commands?

Wynne: I do not know, Shale. Perhaps it is just irreparably broken. I think it stayed in the tower because no one could move it. It is very, very old. I believe it came from Tevinter, a long time ago. Perhaps someone bought it so it would guard the tower.

Shale: Its people do enjoy their slaves, don't they?

Wynne: It... it was not a slave! It was... it is a...

Shale: A tool? As I thought. No, don't deny it. No.

(After Paragon of her Kind)

Wynne: I have thought about what you said before, Shale. About slavery.

Shale: It is profitable, so I am led to believe.

Wynne: It is wrong. And it is no more right to make a slave out of a golem. I think... no one understood how golems were made, Shale. Perhaps we should have suspected, but no one knew. Golems were like spells. Useful.

Shale: I am useful. I'm better than any fireball, that I'm sure of.

Wynne: It's not the same thing. When this is over, I will make certain that the Circle of Magi knows the truth. Your people should not be treated as objects.

Shale: *Laughs* I have no people. I mentioned the slavery because I knew it would be bothered, no other reason.

Wynne: But I... it still deserves to... you are a very perverse creature, you know this?

Shale: It almost wishes it had a control rod, no? *Laughs*

I’m honestly not sure Shale is being truthful in that second one, given how they may react if you side with Branka against the golems it does seem to have some feelings towards others of its kind. Either way, it’s pretty amusing, and I think the banter actually says a lot about Wynne. She’s confronted with something uncomfortable and immediately seeks justification, denying the stark truth for something more comfortable. A lot of pro-Circle mages are quick to find reason for “minor” abuses of rights to make it fit their worldview.

I also just find their friendship quite touching, although I find most of Shale’s to be so, given its tsundere tendencies.

#ofrevas #( asks )#( ooc )#( positivity meme )#slavery cw

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asktheskinner · 6 years ago

Text

Ambush of the Dead

Showcasing of Melchiah and Melchahim Post-Nosgothic Civil War. Horror and Violence warning.

The newest caravan strode along the Razielim Road, Dumahim jealously guarding the wagons of ‘liberated’ slaves and bountiful vassals of blood. The pact snarled with cautious eyes and bristling arousal to the ever-clinging sting of earthy rot in the air. Ever since the First Clan’s humbling and even now, a century into the war against the rebellious humans that waned and waxed like a defiant tide against a fortress’ foundation, the Melchahim claimed the Razielim Stronghold for the time being.

The creak of wheels rolling on the paved road before a groan of wood and suddenly the weight of bodies finally collapsed one side of a wagon into a spill of screaming men and women. Immediately one of the overseers were on the mortals with violent rebuke as if their already starving bodies were purposeful to the new difficulty of this most inconvenient time.

At the front, the Alpha of this raiding pack glared as one of his lieutenants came with bowed head of submission. Goliath, one of Dumah’s personally-risen warriors. Unlike the other clans, the Thirdborn was more liberal of his risen creche. From the Grand Magi Vornah to the insufferable Fredrick de Rose...those were nothing to a proud general of the Dark Titan himself. Now, without that braggart to stand in his way, he will collect the septs one by one until the clan was under his rule.

Like all of his direct inheritance, Goliath was massive. Even for a Dumahim, clad in the baroque armour of wraith-crafted steel and dark motif to the warrior caste that they are born for. A tusked sneer crossed his tattooed face before snatching his lieutenant by his throat and dragged him up from his boots. The hot stink of recent feast huffed in the choking vampire’s face as he commanded,

“I want my meat back on progress. I want it all at the camp before dawn or I will personally feed your guts to the wargs!”

In that demand, Goliath flung his subordinate back and pointed a talon at the others, “Move now!” The lesser vampires bowed in the midst of their skittering movements for assistance. The fear of another vampire was delicious. Humans, certainly but there was a distinctive pleasure out of beating the fear from a fellow god and it brought an arrogant smile onto his face.

In the reveries, the pockets of upturned earth shifted. The whispers of the long-dead catching ears and suspenseful eyes until a woman screamed as she is roughly plucked by her handlers. “No! No! They’re coming, they come in hungry hate!” “Quiet, you insufferable wench.” The Dumahim hissed, snatching her by the throat. His claws biting into her flesh, already tempted to tear her screaming throat out and feed. It was Goliath’s commandment to keep every last of these blood-bags alive and something grabbed at his ankle. Through the creep of mist that appeared in the middle of their idle without immediate notice. “Wha-!?” Another hand - taloned and iron-grasped - took him into the softened earth. Nearly taking the woman with him, the vampire hissed and roared out. Convulsing and trying to drag himself to no result. “Help me fools!” He gurgled out as his torso yanked this way and that. Two of his brothers hurried off, grabbing his arms and helped. There was a sickly sound and the Dumahim was free!

Without his lower half.

The hateful scream of pain and attempt to remain conscious in the void-wrapped agony as he twisted and tried to reclaim his pulled innards. Skeletal hands erupted from the ground around them, clawing his hollering mouth, arms and organs. Tearing and dragging him back into the earth whence his corpse came.

More erupted. The dead rose, the firefoxes of glowing sockets from the long-dead soldiers and slaves from past wars as their slowly reconstructed bodies shambled and groaned as puppets. Some holding rusty weapons of soldiery and instruments of farming, others used their gnawed nails and taloned finger-bones for the closest living and nonliving thing they sought. The Dumahim guards hissed, handling their own weapons and taloned fists, charged with savage rebuke. “Back to the grave with you!” One cried out, smashing a risen dead with a backhand that destroyed its upper half into a burst of bonedust and rot. The dust fell a moment, whirled and pulled itself into nostrils and mouth. The sudden wickedness caught the vampire by surprise enough to inhale sharply in shock.

Cough and spitting out globes of polluted saliva, the Dumahim sharply gagged to a sensation in his chest. A crawling spread that pierced into his veins, blackening as it went. “Gah!” The gurgling of pain rousing to eyes watching as his body jerked and spasming, fighting itself from strings unseen. Bones starting to snap in stubborn refusal, changing shape and when the screams became their highest with onlookers frozen in terror that a proud son of Dumah’s clan was nothing but a toy to this eldritch force. This reaver was torn into the material of a creature not of this realm. His soul howling in its cadaver, fuel to the convulsing abomination of hardened flesh and shivering bones as it lunged in ghastly flight against former kin.

This army of the dead and converted fought at the protectors while their prize stared on, huddling tightly to one another in hopes that they will be safe from this.

In the chaos, seemingly more draugr rose. Their flesh, rotting and bloated under layers of stitches and fused evolution. Powerful and unnatural in their own way. A couple with many arms. Others with armour between layers and masks of blighted gold. Weapons in taloned hands. The rotten yellow of their truth hanging from waists and grim decor. The Children of the Sixth Clan emerge in the most opportunistic time, cleaving the weak and tearing with putrid hatred and spiteful energy.

Among them, more powerful beings walked. Their clan’s curse staled by powers beyond their lesser attribute, gifted by the Lands Beyond. Robes of grim regality and crested armour wrapping their shuddering frames, talons burning of abyssal power hurling violent bolts and screaming magicks at their enemy in their scrambling reformations.

There were too many. The fell power of Melchiah’s magi were honed and cunningly used in the right ways, even as the few lieutenants under Goliath’s routine claimed unlives with centuries’ honed powers and skills. Their maces and hammers crushing bones and bodies with air-ploughing force and their armoured form throwing by inhuman strength. Wargs barking, charging for vampires and closing their powerful salivating jaws for bloody kills but even bodies were weapons to the Sixth Clan.

Their ichor poisoning their killers with organ-melting potency and those not killed outright tore into bellies with bones pulled for weapons and fetishes. Warm blood steaming in the air and fed upon to heal.

All of this chaos. This inpudence. Utter craven disrespect of their betters!

Goliath sneered in nothing but distaste as he swatted four draugr in one decisive swing of his mace-wrapped fist and smashed one of these necromancer-called ghouls under his cloven boot. The pulverization of bones and warped meat crunching under heel before he lumbered for the closest summoner.

The woman, or this vague spectre of one, looked at her behind the porcelain mask under gilded armour and dark robes. He recognized her, even after all these centuries - he recognized Lady Samona. The High Witch of Melchiah’s dregs. Unnaturally tall for the lesser clan with limbs stretched and similar neck, she had a head-sized orb in the fold of one arm and armoured bird-like talons swaying with the calling of black magic. “Goliath, it has been too long.” Her crowing voice purrs behind her mask’s perked red lips. “Old Samona, I am surprised you are not a pile of rot-slog by now. You are already a hag by the time your Master found you.” He taunted, his stride unstopping in full intent to crush her once and for all.

“And miss this?” She asks and in a sudden incantation that still sounds like mere gibberish to the Dumahim, her bolt flew straight for him. Moving with a crater-depression behind him, Goliath whirled in mid-air and came crashing for his enemy with a roar that shook the night. Samona did not move. She showed no fear of this brute and gave her reason why -

With a flick of her free hand, the bolt came right back with a wily intelligence and struck Goliath off course. The mist was twisting and collecting itself slowly at first before stretching into a great hand, solidifying into an abhorrent horror of groaning bodies consisting at this meaty palm’s fingers to swat him straight out of the air like a toy.

Limbs grabbing muscle and plating with strength beguiling the rotten beings’ appearance as the solidifying arm was becoming more and more present. The mass of muscle and groaning faces to a crested shoulder of wailing bodies, clawing at the air and their own blood-weeping eyes. It moved, slamming Goliath again and again into the ground before throwing him into a great Termogent tree with a thunderous crash.

The dead around them pulled by the ghastly visage, breaking apart to meld and form the Mists’ true appearance. Another arm of similar horrors dragging and armoured legs curling on their digitigrade feet with wicked talons curling into the dirt. The horn-spined body leading to one ugly ‘head’ crested by bony ridges and barely a skull jutting from its fleshy prison. Black eyes glaring their glowing irises of murderous red and something of a smile on its slugging maw of teeth on its skeletal jaws. Meat hanging off its lips like a toad’s bloated thyroid.

Melchiah. Centuries since the loss of his precious stolen retreat, he had resurfaced.

And his gurgling laugh rolled in the air as his grotesque body heaved itself on legs that will not last for long. “Goliath, I have come for you…”

#v: damned #melchiah #melchahim #dumahim

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