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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Festive Fuelstop

Pairing: Mando x Reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: You, Mando and the Child end up in a small town and get pulled into their traditions.

A/n: Happy Holidays, my loves!

You walked out of the Crest and took a breath of fresh air after a week of being trapped inside the flying metal. Despite having to make an emergency landing, you were thankful that the fuel line had started leaking just to stretch your legs. You and Mando had landed on the outskirts of a charming village where the mechanic actually refused the credits that the Mandalorian offered to repair his ship.

“Oh, golly. I can’t take payment now - I haven’t made any repairs.” The man chuckled heartily and whistled for his best workers to get on the job. The repairman then focused back on the new arrivals. “Why don’t you hold on to those credits and take your family down to the markets in the meantime?”

Mando appeared to have frozen so you leaned forward and pulled his hand back, flashing a smile to the kind man.

“The markets sound wonderful - could you point us in the right direction?”

You were given instruction to follow the wooden path down the hill until you reached a clearing into the central part of town which you, Mando and the Child followed.

When you reached the bottom, the townsfolk were in a buzz carrying boxes of shiny strings and coloured balls from one part of town to the next. Homes were decorated with lights strewn across the fences and roofs, some even had a green wreaths on the front door. Adults met up with one another with a grin as they walked in the same direction while children chased each other in tow.

You and Mando exchanged curious glances. This wasn’t something either of you had come across and your confused expression caught the attention of a passerby. The man stopped before the two of you and pointed.

“Visitors?” He guessed with a smile on his face that highlighted a hidden dimple.

You returned the smile and Mando nodded, “Our ship is being repaired uphill.”

“Well then it’s in safe hands. Please, feel free to join us in the Square while you wait.” The man invited and then walked away in the same direction as everyone else. It seemed like the whole town was headed that way.

Folding your arms, you turned to the bounty hunter, “Is it bad that I want to know what’s happening in the Square?”

“We have to keep moving.” Mando reminded as he looked around the buildings. “Maybe find a diner of some sort.”

You watched as more of the townsfolk left their homes and bit your lower lip as you thought - then you heard the child croon and idea came to mind.

“If everyone’s in the same place then none of their lodgings, food or otherwise, will be open. We’ll have a better chance to blend in alongside everyone else while seeing what has everyone so excited.” You said. “And the kid might never experience this again.”

The Mandalorian cocked his head to the side when he heard you.

“Are those reasons for the kid or for you?”

You shot him a side-eye and shook your head. Without hearing his argument against the plan, you followed the crowd and - in a few minutes - his beskar arm braces were bumping beside you.

It was a short walk to the heart of the town where a large green tree gleaming with lights and decoration sat in the middle. Your jaw dropped, eyes mesmerised with the sight that you almost knocked into the woman in front of you had it not been for Mando pulling you back. As the last few people joined, you realised that it was getting too close-for-comfort for the child so you moved to a more open space a little further from the festivities.

You returned to staring in awe at the magnificence of the tree and couldn’t help but smile, “What are they celebrating?” You wondered just as a little boy zoomed past with his friends, hearing your question. He stopped before you and Mando and placed his hands on his hips.

“You must be travellers! Tonight begins the First Ice of Holly Day. We gather around the tree just before the snow begins to fall - which should be starting soon!” The young boy explained and then ran off leaving the baby to lean over his cradle and coo.

Soon? You looked up to the skies and noticed that they had now been filled with frosty grey clouds. The sun began to fade away which illuminated the lights around the entire town making everything glow. As it darkened just a touch more excitable voices began talking quickly, most of it inaudible. You were so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t realised Mando tensing up beside you until you turned to him. He looked like he was ready to be jumped. You opened you mouth to chide him when there was a joyful cry from the far side of the tree.

“Look - look! It’s snowing! Holly Day has begun!”

You , Mando and the Child looked up once more and, sure enough, small snowflakes descended upon the happy town. A chilled breeze set in and you remembered that you weren’t properly clothed from when you exited the ship a while ago. You were about to suggest finding some coats when Mando turned his head toward the clearing.

“We should head back. I don’t want to be caught in a snow storm at the base of a hill.” He told you. You glanced at the baby trying to catch the snow in his mouth and sighed. Mando was right.

You shivered slightly, dusting the snow from your shoulders. “Point made. But before we head back, I need to stop at a vegetable stall.”

“Why?”

You pursed your lips and squinted at the green womp rat in the cradle, “Because somebody keeps ‘force-flinging’ the celonslay into the refresher.” you leaned down to the baby and used the tip of your index finger to lightly press on his button nose. “Vegetables are what’s going to make you big and strong.”

You straightened back up and noticed the crowd the beginning to disperse as you looked around them to find some place that sold healthy greens.

Mando pointed over your shoulder quietly and you followed his hand to where a row of merchants stood with their goods just past the tree. You thanked him and requested that he and child stay put until you returned. The bounty hunter didn’t argue and so you ventured off to the markets. As you passed the tree you smiled once more at its beauty. A part of you wondered if Mando would oppose to having a small one in the ship. But then you thought better of it because if Mando didn’t oppose then the kid might tear it apart or worse, jam it into the refresher.

You passed the first stall which happened to be filled with florals and ‘Holly Berry Seed Pots’ and over to the second one where rows and rows of fruits and vegetables sat. Scanning the items, you spotted the celonslay and decided against purchasing it again. The Child clearly didn’t like it. As you browsed, a head popped up from behind the stall - it belonged to the man you first met upon reaching the town.

“It’s you.” You realised.

He chuckled and quirked a brow. “Twice in one day? I’m beginning to think that you’re following me.” He teased lightly and tapped his hands on the wooden counter top. “I’m glad you decided to come to the Square.”

The man inquired about how you felt about experiencing the First Ice and you told him the truth of how you adored the way it was celebrated. You both then returned to the task at hand and you asked for his suggestion on a vegetable that a baby would enjoy.

“Children are tricky to pick for.” The Merchant hummed as he looked over the available selection. “But I do have some gimer canes. If the kid is teething, he can chew on this to get important nutrients with a sweet taste. He might even do a happy dance.”

Your eyes lit up along with your smile, “That’s perfect, I’ll take four.”

“Gimer canes are fairly rare so...”

“I’ll pay you double.” You offered instantly, not bothering to discuss it with the Mandalorian.

You expected the Merchant to take the credits right away but he laughed admirably at you. “I was actually hoping that you’d come with me to the Holly Seed Planting tomorrow instead.”

As much as you wanted to stay, you and Mando were due to leave the planet in under an hour. Your shoulders visibly slackened and the Merchant seemed to have understood. He reached beneath the counter and lifted up a paper bag, handing it over to you.

“Here, consider it an early Holly Day gift.”

Slightly confused, you looked inside and saw four pieces of the rare cane. You didn’t know how to express thanks besides repeating the word in the hopes that it would be enough.

“It’s okay, really.” The Merchant said softly. “Times are strange, we may meet again.”

You flashed a smile and thanked him once more before turning to leave.

You returned to the Child and the Mandalorian shortly after and noticed the mechanic of your ship walking away from the beskar-plated man with a spring in his step and humming a tune.

“Was that...?”

“It was.” Mando sighed. “Apparently, the repairs won’t be ready until tomorrow afternoon because the mechanic doesn’t want to miss out on the ‘festivities’.”

You couldn’t really blame the creature for halting work and you looked over at the hill pathway that led to the ship. “Old fashioned camp out in the broken cargo hold?” You suggested.

“It’s getting dark and you’re exhausted. We’ll stay in town until the repairs are complete.”

This meant that you could repay the Merchant in full.

“Why are you smiling?”

You wiped the escaped emotion from your face and cleared your throat. Balancing the bag against your hip, you looked around the well-lit town, deflecting the question, “I’m sure that there’s a good lodging around here.”

And you were right, a short walk down the road landed the three of you at a comfortable inn for travellers. But as luck would have it, finding a decent sized room in the towns busiest time proved to be difficult and so, you, Mando and cradled baby were placed in a smaller, single bed compartment with extra blankets to compensate. While it was quaint, a part of you wished that you were back on the Razor Crest.

As Mando settled into the temporary sleeping quarters by checking the perimeters, you helped the kid out of his cot and onto the soft mattress. This hadn’t been the first time that there was only one bed between three individuals so you and Mando decided to take one side each to make sure that you were both well rested. And, to be involved, the Child would walk across the surface before sitting on the side that he wanted Mando to be.

The kid cooed and then smacked his lips which reminded you that he had not been fed the since lunch. You walked over to the table by the door and dug into the paper bag retrieving a stick of the gimer cane before carefully handing it to the baby to taste.

Mando joined your side as the pair of watched the child chew on the cane with a happy squeal.

“He likes it.” Mando noted, relatively surprised. Your mouth hung open as you watched the green womp rat do a little seated ‘happy dance’.

The Merchant was right.

Speaking of the man, you remembered to tell the bounty hunter of your plans the next day, explaining - once again - that it would be a good way for the kid to learn and enjoy other customs. His sigh told you that he wasn’t thrilled but, ultimately, he resigned. “Fine but we’re leaving the moment the Crest is fixed.”

You tried to contain your smile but it slipped out which led to the Mandalorian shaking his head and heading for the bed to get some decent rest. He picked up the child and moved him to the centre before laying down on the sheets. As you watched the baby find a comfortable sleeping position against his chosen-father, you realised that you were fairly exhausted from the day. You took up the blankets that the lodging provided and laid along the empty bed space, covering yourself and the kid just before falling asleep to the burning candlelight.

When you woke to birdsong, you found that the child had switched sleeping allegiances and was now snuggled in your arms. Mando stepped out of the refresher and helped you to get ready for the day by removing the womp rat from your hold which led the child waking up with a small wail until Mando pacified him with a gimer cane.

Once all affairs were in order, you paid the lodging owner in full and left for the Merchant’s stall where the man had just farewelled a customer.

“Can I have four more gimer canes?” You wondered and the moment the Merchant saw you, he abandoned his job, rushing to the front with a smile.

“You- you’re still here.”

Nodding, you gestured to where Mando stood with the child, “Our repairs will be done this afternoon which means we can go to the Holly Seed Planting.”

The Merchant nodded and boldly took your hands when he spoke. “The Planting is in a few hours but there are things we can do before that!” He looked over your shoulder to Mando, “Tell me, friend. Have you ever gone sledding through fields of freshly lain snow under trees of light?”

Mando stared back through his visor, “Only to capture my bounty.”

The Merchant didn’t know what to make of the statement and you chuckled to lighten the air, “Sledding sounds wonderful!”

And that’s what you did. The Merchant took the three of you to a sledding field and you almost forgot about your mission to find the child’s people. Mando took the green womp rat for a ride after caving to his pleading coos while you rode with the Merchant.

Once the snow-filled fun had run its course, you all ventured back into town for a hot meal at the local cantina and a short rest before learning that enough time had passed for the Holly Seed Planting. You and Mando followed the Merchant over to the large tree where, at its base, several plots were dug in long rows along the white frost.

“What’s so special about this event?” You asked as curiosity enveloped when you noticed people gathering in pairs.

The Merchant took your hand and pointed across, “Holly Seeds are special, they bloom fast with emotion and identical where love is pure. It’s a rare sight to see but it doesn’t make it any less fun to plant.”

“What happens to these seeds after?”

“We nurture them through the year, their roots and leaves merge until they form the Town’s next tree for Holly Day.”

If you had left the day before, you never would have learnt about something so amazing.

“Oh - I think it’s starting. Let’s go get a seed.” The Merchant told you excitably.

Mando made no effort to move quickly, instead he held onto the child and stepped back. “I think the kid and I will wait this one out.”

A part of you wished he wouldn’t remove himself but once the Mandalorian made up his mind, he often stuck to it. You focused on the Merchant once more, painting the snow with your footprints until you both collected a Holly Seed Pot each and kneeled by two empty plots.

“Okay,” The Merchant said, nestling a little closer, “so all we need to do is hold these next to each other and if everything is right, they’ll bloom.”

You held out your pot until it clinked against the Merchant’s. Almost instantly, a bud peered through the Merchant’s soil and it quickly grew into a stem ... then leaves sprang forth ... and finally, a white-petaled flower emerged, tilting forward like a bell.

You looked down at the pot in your hands and there was nothing - not even a hint of green.

You gave a dry chuckle to hide the way your heart sank, “I can’t imagine it’s good news if nothing happens, right?”

The Merchant shook his head to not worry you but you could see in his eyes that this came as a surprise to him too. Clearing your throat, you flashed him a smile and looked around the place where bursts of colourful flowers came to life. “So, what happens next?”

“Usually, we walk around and see if there are identical flowers before we plant them into the ground but...”

You noticed his eyes flicker to the various pots, clearly trying to spot his match, and placed an gentle hand over his shoulder.

“Go ahead, it’s okay.” You told him as he once told you. The Merchant hesitated briefly until you repeated yourself.

You got to your feet as he thanked you and then you watched him walk through the crowd. Glancing at your sad-looking pot, you remembered something and looked up to find your travel associates.

No green or beskar could be seen. You did, however, see the mechanic once again. He had just arrived and was talking to a friend about how he had just finished a job.

The Razor Crest must have been ready. You intended to give a farewell to the Merchant but when you saw him standing by a young woman with an identical white flower, you decided against it.

Let him have this moment. Taking the plant, you decided to blend out of the crowd and back to somewhere familiar.

—

The Merchant was kind but Mando felt his dislike for the local grow every time you were present. He blamed the whimsical nature of the town but Mando felt something envious surge in him whenever you talked about the Merchant with a smile. Then he had to spend the day watching the pair of you laugh and joke and... hold hands - Mando seriously feared that you may have been falling in love. When the Seed Planting came around, he tried to ignore the way you and the Merchant had grown fond of one other so he stood to the back of the crowd. He was blending in quite well until a sweet old lady spotted him and the child and handed him a Holly Seed Pot of his own. He tried to give it back but the woman ignored him and moved on. The Child cooed and Mando turned to see you kneeling by the snow and holding your pot against that of the Merchants.

He heard the baby croon and attempt to speak.

“I know buddy...”

The child started tapping his hands over Mando’s gloves and pulled his attention from the Jedi over to the pot in his hands.

A red flower had sprouted almost instantly while was distracted. The edges of the petals ran gold like ink.

His mind flew to what the Merchant had said about quick blooming flowers and the Mandalorian felt his heart race.

‘Fast with emotion.’ He had said.

Turning around, Mando made a quick getaway just as the townsfolk gathered to ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ around the flowers. Thinking fast, he decided to head back to the ship, almost bursting into a sprint. The child had fallen asleep during the trip so when Mando finally got to the Crest, he laid the infant down before getting to work. He took the pot plant over to the carbonite chamber and shut it inside with a hiss.

—

The walk uphill was long and exhausting. There were multiple times when you considered throwing the pot behind you but something always made you rethink and forget the option. When you finally reached the Crest, you spotted Mando fiddling by the carbonite chamber and the kid asleep in his cradle. You dumped the pot on the side bench and headed past the Mandalorian for the cockpit.

“I’m ready to get out of here.” You said, climbing up the ladder. Without missing a beat, you sat in the pilots seat and prepared for take off, closing the doors of the cargo bay. You were a fast flyer so you had the ship up in lightspeed in no time only dropping out when you were several systems away. As you prepped the ship for autopilot, you heard the familiar armour behind you.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” He said gently. “The Jedi Order and the Mandalorian Way don’t give much room for romance.”

You leaned forward and flicked on two switches. A disappointed sigh escaping over the console. “I know. Sometimes, I hope for a sign that will lead me down a different path - one where I don’t walk alone. But it’s always a fools hope.”

The Crest’s engine sputtered, shaking loose a pipe above your head which made you frown when it bumped your head. “Dank farrik.” You muttered. “Can you get me something to fix this?”

The beskar helmet nodded and Mando turned down the narrow corridor. He went down the stairs to grab a wrench from his tools cabinet when a flicker of gold caught his attention.

Sitting on the bench was your Holly Seed Pot, a green stem had rose from the mud, blooming a red Holly Flower with gold trimming - just like his.

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #mando x reader #mando imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #xmas special

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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No “wine-ing”: a season of ice and fire

A lot of you dropped very kind messages about my well being and I’m happy to say that my recovery from Covid is firmly on track and I’m close to full strength again. My exhaustion and tiredness has thankfully been ebbing away. I’m back running my daily 5 km before I start my work day and cycling to get back to full fitness.

So I managed to escape Paris before the travel lockdown and curfew was imposed before April 26. I’m a country girl at heart and I’ve always felt a little uncomfortable in big cities. I love Paris but I also get tired of it quite easily. So I headed to the chateau vineyard where I thought I could complete my recovery from my Covid illness and work remotely (the work never stops) without too many distractions.

Unfortunately - or fortunately as I prefer to see it - I was mud deep in trying to rescue our wine harvest for 2021 as frost struck over a few nights that left us reeling, and left much of the country’s wine growing region devastated. No region of France was spared as French wine producers fought valiantly over several nights to stop the frost from letting the buds finally come out to sprout. Wine makers fought with everything they could think of, and in the end resorted to fire to keep the temperature warm enough for the vines to survive the cold snap. It was a spectacular sight all across the horizons of many French wine growing regions including ours.

I’m just thankful to be there at the right place and the right time to help out.

I enjoy coming down to our chateau vineyard as it’s a welcome contrast to the busy city life of Paris. I just couldn’t wait to get dressed up (or dress down?) in tatty old clothing, rolling up my sleeves, and getting my hands dirty with any physical chores to do around the vineyard. I always have this urge to make myself useful instead being stuck behind a desk, bored to death in Zoom call meetings. I was looking forward to running and cycling in the open country air to bust a gut or two.

Mostly though I was looking forward to enjoying home cooked country food, be in the fun company of my two Anglo-Norwegian cousins and their French families, and together we’d be preening over the first shoots of the forthcoming wine harvest for 2021.

It is always an emotional moment at this time of year when we see in the vineyards the glistening tears of the vines (‘les pleurs’) that tell us that the new vintage is underway. As the temperatures rise so does the sap in the vines and where the pruners have trimmed the end of the branch, we see this beautiful sight that reassures us – telling us whatever happens, nature continues. The baby buds are beginning to come out timidly but soon the stark branches of the vines will be green again as these fragile leaves unfurl in the spring sunlight.

Back in 2020 many vintners (winemakers), not just in our region but across the whole of France, were unsure what 2021 would bring. Would 2021 be a challenging vintage or an easy one full of sunshine? With the growing season starting so early, the first hurdle - and one of the most crucial - is the fear of late frost. It seems to be more and more of a problem in recent years, this late frost burying any new growth like a fast moving avalanche. For many vintners they have 2017 written into their hearts in painful tears when frost devastated any hope for a healthy harvest and for some even brought financial ruin.

For me - at the time - it was a rude introduction to the vicissitudes of the wine making business by two wine loving cousins co-owning and co-managing an old family owned French vineyard. Family fortunes rise and fall according to the harvest. All the blood, tears, and sweat poured into running an efficient high yielding grape vineyard comes to naught when you realise that you are not the master, nature is.

The risk of frost has increased in recent years due to global warming, which does not just warm but makes the climate more erratic and temperatures more extreme. Good news for the moderately temperate climate for our wine making region where hotter drier summers have produced a string of good recent vintages (2015, 2016, 2018, 2020). But the negative side of this is that frosts have become more common right up until the end of the usual cycle – last year it was on 6th May.

Except this year, 2021, now looked like 2017 because of the devastation of continued frost on the vines. In talking to the French family of my cousin’s French wife, who have faithfully made wine for a few generations they ruefully pointed out past bad frosts. Apparently 1956 was legendary with a very cold winter frost some minus 20 °C following a warm period when the sap rose from the roots into the vine foot and branches. It killed the vines. The last disastrous late spring frost before 2017 was 1991. It seems to be striking significantly every two years now and a every year to a degree. Who would have expected the devastation again this year, 2021 some forty years on.

This year, particularly around April 7th and 8th, brought despair to vignerons right across France from Champagne to Cognac, Burgundy to Bordeaux as thousands of vineyards’ new growth was obliterated by frost (resulting in zero yield for harvest 2021). There may be some new growth and some secondary budding but this is a repeat of 2017 (if not worse) and few were able to harvest any grapes worth speaking of.

My cousins had been in contact with friends and other peers who are wine makers in other regions (friendships are built at trade shows overseas and other association events) and in totality the picture appeared bleaker than previous years. The scourge of frost had been catastrophic. Around half of the vines in Burgundy have been damaged, according to local producers. Some vineyard owning friends in the Inter Rhône region told us that the whole of the Rhône has been hit dramatically and that some plots are affected 100%.

According to the CNIV, the official French council for wine appellation, the frost has affected 80% of French vineyards. We already know that we will have a very low harvest in 2021. Nearly all French wine growers have just suffered a dark week in April.

It’s not just wine growers but fruit farmers too. It’s been like winter coming in spring. Below-freezing temperatures in the Drome and Ardèche regions of central southern France have led to fruit farmers losing up to 90 percent of their kiwi, apricot, apple, and peach harvest. Even in Bordeaux the severity of the frost damaged the growth on fruit trees such as apricots, peaches and nectarines, and field-crops such as rapeseed and sugar beet.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. How does one protect the vines from frost?

There have been a variety of ways vineyard owners have been dealing with the problem of frost. There’s no one size fits all and the solutions are often handicapped by the size of one’s vineyards, financial resources, and manpower.

Two solutions in fighting frost have been aeolian wind turbines and air fans. It takes the warmer air from higher up, and pushes it to the ground. These machines can raise temperatures by up to 2C. The problem is that some of these wind turbines and air fans are permanently set so they can only be set in one direction whilst others one can wheel around to move the air and stop frost settling. Both are very expensive solutions and the cost may outweigh the gain.

Air heaters are another solution. No less expensive though. One of our vineyard owning neighbours wanted to use paraffin fuelled heaters. But he said he would have needed 4,500 paraffin-fuelled heaters to cover all his 15 hectares at a cost of nearly €50,000 for the two worst nights, and even then growers it would protect only the vines for his finest wines.

Some of the vineyards also launched helicopters to fly above their vineyards, a method that can help to prevent frost by encouraging warm air to circulate. In effect they push the cold air around so that it does not sink down to the ground causing its damage. I was all for this solution as I’m an ex-army helicopter combat pilot and so I felt my old training could be put to use in civilian helicopters. But we ruled this out once we did the maths. At about 1600€-2000€ per hour one can only fly from 6am but this is the coldest time when the sun comes up. At best the helicopter’s range of effectiveness was a mere 10 hectares. So you don’t get more bang for your buck. But that didn’t stop some vineyards that we knew doing exactly that. These were corporate owned vineyards who tend to be well heeled and can afford to spare no expense.

There are less expensive solutions but are more costly in terms of manpower.

Some vineyards used water sprinklers, allowing a fine coating hitting sub-zero temperatures as the ice acts like a mini-igloo and protect it from outside colder temperatures.

Conversely, vineyard owners hit upon another relatively low cost solution of using candles. They usually last 12 hours and so in effect can be used for the two crucial nights of severe frost. We calculated that at 10€ a candle you would need 300 for one hectare alone. Of course the chief problem is that they need to be lit by hand and hope the wind was kind.

For the biodynamic wine producers they fell back on organic solutions. They sprayed their vines with a spray composed of pectins from apples which is supposed to lower the temperature around the vines. More common and perhaps more effective was spraying vines with Valerian to give the vines some added fortification to survive themselves.

By far the most common response by vineyard owners to combat the frost was to burn fires by burning hay bales amongst the vines. The smoke causes a blanket which heats up the atmosphere. In the old days I was told they actually burned rubber tyres! For it to have any chance of being effective you have to be aware of wine direction and make sure the bales are in the right places. It also helps if your neighbours do the same.

Speaking for our chateau vineyard, we had to make tough decisions to see how our chateau vineyard could combat the frost and minimise the damage to the future harvest. Although I own a small financial investment stake in the vineyard I have always deferred to my two cousins who actually run the vineyard with their married partners on a day to day basis. It’s their life long passion and I’m happy to play a small part in getting my hands (literally) dirty in building something from the soil up and for purely selfish reasons, just love being so close to nature itself. The fact that the French family of one my cousin’s wife - they actually owned the land and were reputable wine makers for generations - added invaluable weight to the wisdom of any decision making we had to do.

We sat around the kitchen table and talked through our options whilst nursing a glass of wine from a past vintage. My cousins and their kids especially thought I was a weirdo - they’re probably right! It’s not that I enjoy it (the mud, sweat and lack of sleep etc) but it was the challenge that really got me energised. If it’s a forlorn battle against the odds that’s when I really come alive. So I was quite jolly and full of vim whilst those around me were bleary eyed and groaning for bed and a hot shower as we were out in the fields in the dead of night. We ran it like a military operation - thanks to me ha! - I put everyone on detail and even the small kids saluted and got to work on their task. We made sure we had hot soup and beers constantly on tap for our staff and workers to take a food break and take a breather. Not that they needed motivating. Every one of our staff and also volunteers worked bravely to limit the damage.

So in the end we fell upon a series of actions which indeed many of our immediate wine making neighbours also followed suit. We sprayed, we watered, we burned. We tried everything to save our vines from further damage from frost.

We concocted an organic solution that had thyme, oregano, and wild sariette to which we added valerian and meadowsweet and a dash of yarrow and horsetail as well as honey; all of which help the whole organic solution to work. In effect this helps the vine to prepare for ice, by changing the composition of the sap a little, by enriching it with sugar. The infusion is then sprayed onto the vines at least 24 hours before the first freeze is forecast. The solution only works if the temperatures stay just below freezing but no lower, at around -2C or -1C maximum. With this solution on the plants, we could increase temperatures by 1-2 degrees. If it drops even lower, to around -5C, as we had in 2019, it’s not enough. It might save some plants, but not all.

We soon followed with watering the vines using our irrigation system we had on hand. It was labouriously time consuming.

When it was clear that this wasn’t going to work out because of the severe temperature drop we fell on fire as the saving solution.

It was all hands on deck as we also roped in some volunteers to help us start small controlled fires amongst our vines. We burned straw bales and piles of wood in very large jerry cans to save what we could. The aim was to create a blanket of smoke so that when the sun came up it didn't burn the vines because of the humidity. One vineyard neighbour of ours actually used a flame thrower and lit more than 700 small fires but had to start all over again because the fires didn’t last one night.

This was our experience too. We had a lot of hectares to cover and so little man power and so we just worked around the clock until we were able to light fires and keep an eye on them should they go out. We ran between the selected vines to make sure the fires remained lit throughout the night starting around 2am to 6am. I don’t think any of us had more than a few hours sleep over a crucial 48 hour window. We took turns to cook for everyone and made sure everyone was well fed on home cooking as well as hot showers and adequately winter clothed. I’m used to being sweaty and getting by on little sleep from my army days but it’s a measure of how far I’ve succumbed to civilian life that even I found it a little hard going.

I’m not very good at lighting fires as I tend to over compensate on the fuel lighter and I feared that I would burn the whole vineyard down by trying to start a small controlled fire. I got singed here and there but nothing to complain about. Others were just marvellous in their work ethic and shared bonhomie as we tried to save our vineyard. One person on our staff did get singed with flames and in his case we rushed him to hospital with minor third degree burns. We all felt like roasted chestnuts standing between the small fires. But what a spectacular sight the landscape was with all these lighted fires. This wasn’t just our vineyard but all across the landscape of neighbouring vineyards. It looked as if the whole region was on fire. It was quite hypnotising to look at. As to its effects, it’s harder to discern. I do know that even cities of Lyon and Bordeaux had a layer of smog that was visible to others from far away.

Looking back it was both exhausting and exhilarating to experience such a time. It’s the kind of rite of passage that either breaks you or makes you. For us it certainly brought us all together more tightly than before. With our neighbours too there was a collective sense of togetherness and rather than act selfishly or just worry about our own fortunes, neighbours lent a hand towards each other in terms of equipment, expertise, or voluntary labour.

Perhaps the more wealthy chateau vineyards’ expensive techniques were able to save their best vineyards but most who could afford creating smoke blankets from burning hay bales – they were no match for the frost with temperatures down to minus 5 in some areas. Hopefully insurance had been taken out, which involves a substantial expenditure each year. We are fortunate to have insurance and the damage done to our vineyard has been mitigated to some extent. But I do know for instance that many are not insured against the effects of frost because of the cost of the coverage and many French wine producers were already struggling financially.

It was reported that many chateau vineyards in lesser known areas (Castillon, Bourg, Blaye, Côtes de Franc, Graves, Satellites of St Emilion) who could not afford these payments and who played ‘Russian roulette’, this year lost for perhaps for the last time. For them it’s personally heart breaking. For French wine making it’s a cultural tragedy. It’s hard enough for small independent vineyards (often run by families or young couples with a dream) to survive - the economies of scale as well as being aggressively overshadowed by the high volume output and superior marketing power of wealthy corporate owned vineyards - but never really expected nature, or vicissitudes of global warming, to make it that much more harder to make wine.

Unlike Bordeaux, Burgundy, the Rhone valley, in the Champagne region, we heard that not many Champagne wine producers didn’t even bother fighting the frost because they thought it would have done little good. One of the reasons why so few people engaged in frost protection in Champagne is these wine makers have as their biggest buffer against frost is their Individual Reserve (RI). In case appellation requirements are not met in the vineyard, they can draw from it.

Indeed with sales still stagnating and small yield expectations, growers may have to dip in the RI because frost season is not over till after the Saintes Glaces, a period in the middle of May after which frost generally doesn't appear. But not every vineyard can do that.

To their credit, perhaps recognising the commercial and cultural role French wine has in daily life and international prestige, the French government had agreed to step in to help. President Emmanuel Macron tweeted a picture of a candle-lit vineyard and promised that help was on the way, “À vous, agriculteurs qui, partout en France, avez lutté sans relâche, nuit après nuit, pour protéger les fruits de votre travail, je veux vous dire notre soutien plein et entier dans ce combat. Tenez bon ! Nous sommes à vos côtés et le resterons.” (“To you, farmers who, throughout France, have fought tirelessly, night after night, to protect the fruits of your labour, I want to give you our full support in this fight. Hold on tight! We are by your side and will remain so." )

To that end President Macron has declared an "agricultural disaster" and Prime Minister Jean Castex has promised that the government will provide emergency relief to those who were affected. He has also removed the limit on the amount of financial compensation that can be provided. It said it would help the smaller independent vineyards and co-operatives with tax breaks as well as pushing banks and insurance companies to help out. It’s unclear if any of this will come to pass or indeed what effect it might have in the short and long term. We shall see.

It’s been estimated that at least a third of French wine production worth nearly € 2 billion (£ 1.7 billion) in sales will be lost this year. It's another blow for France's wine industry whatever assistance is given. The French wine industry has already been dealing with the knock-on effects of the Covid pandemic, with decreases in restaurant orders due to the country's series of lockdowns. Independent producers have been hit hard by the cancellation of wine fairs due to Covid. Then there have been the effects of the tariffs that former President Donald Trump imposed as a result of assorted disputes between the administration and the European Union. In late 2019, Trump hit French wine with a retaliatory 25% import duty, a cost increase that the Economist says contributed to a 14% drop in French wine exports in 2020. Last month in March, the United States and the EU announced a four-month suspension of the tariffs.

But that doesn't necessarily help winegrowers right now - especially since a significant percentage of this year's crop may already be lost. Tradition has it that it is well into May before vine growers can sleep easy without worrying about the risk of further frost damage.

Even though we did our best to save our vines we couldn’t save all of them and even had decide which ones to forgo even trying because we lacked manpower and resources at such short notice. I heard someone amongst ourselves say losing the vines that one has cultivated so lovingly was like the loss of a family member. It may seem puerile, but that is close to what many feel. Perhaps only winegrowers can understand this sentiment, but they have found themselves out in the vines in the morning with tears in their eyes. I’m not one for sentiment and displays of emotion but even I was a little moved to see the heart break in tear filled eyes of some of the older generation who have for decades given their sweat and tears to tilling the soil. We did our best to console one another and remarkably in that crucible we experienced together we all became closer.

What is clear is the tradition of wine - beyond national politics and international trade disputes - is under long term threat from something much more existential. There is a saying amongst the older generation of wine makers in our fertile wine making region who say, ‘wine history is climate history’. Wine making is about the vines, the ‘terroir’ (a French way of saying the earth or the soil), but also the climate. Nature is very much the master and wine makers are but humble servants of the soil. For those who don’t believe in climate change or think it’s overly dramatised by scientists or worse, a hoax, then I would say wake up and smell the coffee. Climate change is real as any wine producer or arable farmer will tell you. Wine can make you do or say many things, but it won’t ever make you tell a wilful lie.

The French wife of my cousin, whose family the vineyard had been for several generations, told us that the wine harvest time used to span her grandfather’s birthday - September 28 - but now, the bustle of harvest is over and cleaned up in time for his birthday party - that’s two to three weeks earlier than when her grandfather used to make the wine. As she memorably put it, things are “bien cramées” (really screwed up).

All of this means that wine producers will have to change their ways as the climate changes. All the measures taken to combat frost were in reality delaying tactics to fight a losing battle with the climate. The wine industry, not just in France but around the world, needs to evolve if it is to face up to increasing climate challenges. This might include planting more weather-resistant vines that flower later, and are therefore less vulnerable to late frosts and cold snaps.

Wine, in France, is built into the fabric of the culture. The many variety of grapes across the wine growing regions indigenously grow and adapt to the precise climate conditions of the region for centuries. Winemakers know the growth stages intimately: the look of the vines before they bud; the look of the vines as they mature over long seasons; and the fat, sugary, fragrant curve of the grapes when they’re ready to be made into wine.

That harvest point is crucial. Too long on the vine and the grapes have too much sugar in them, meaning the wine will be more alcoholic—not the subtle feel most winemakers in the region care for. Too long, and the acids that give wine some of its feel in the mouth may disintegrate. Not long enough, and they might not have developed the right balance of fragrant chemicals that give the wine its characteristic flavours.

Winemakers keep careful track of harvest dates, with some regions have records stretching back to the Middle Ages. In the 1800s, scientists and historians realised that those careful records could be used to keep track of how the climate in different parts of Europe has changed over time.

Grape harvest date records are the longest records of phenology in Europe. There are hundreds of years of records of what the summer temp was like, and we can use them like a thermometer.

Grape harvest dates reflect the temperature the grapes have felt over the course of the growing season, from about April until they’re picked. If the spring and summer are hot, the grapes mature faster and need to be picked sooner. If they're cool, the opposite is true.

Climate historians started to pull together ancient information from other sources, too. They matched up the patterns in the grape harvest data with records made from tree rings and the length of glaciers in the Alps. They used records like those to figure out that much of central Europe warmed up during the Medieval Warm Period, from around 900 to 1300. It had cooled down during the Little Ice Age, from about the 15th to the 19th centuries.

The historians saw that over the past few hundred years, temperatures wobbled around, skewing warm for short stretches and cooling down in others. But overall, climate rocked up and down around a fairly consistent average value - until recently.

Wine is first and foremost an agricultural product. The grapes used to make it are grown and harvested with intent to be fermented. This means that wine production is vulnerable to the effects of climate change from the tangible health of vines to the taste and quality of the finished bottling they create. So for this reason, all winemakers see themselves as being on the front line to see what happens with the weather, with the climate. The fluctuations we have today are more significant than any time before.

If you don’t believe any of this or think wine producers are exaggerating the dangers, then taste your wine the next time you open a bottle. The chances are it has a high alcohol content. This is no accident. Because of the changes in temperature world wide, the alcohol content of wines has bumped up from about 12% in the 1970s to about 14% today. Of course that number varies from region to region and is also due to the wine maker’s preference. But a large part of it is because grapes are maturing faster in the heat. The more sugar they accumulate, the more of it is converted to alcohol during the winemaking process.

Warming has also caused the boundaries of viable growing area to swell. Typically, successful vineyards have been found between 30 and 50 degrees latitude. But as global average temperatures continue to climb, the most ideal areas to plant are moving farther from the equator. Now, areas as far up as the island of Föhr and Stargarder Land in Mecklenburg, at the tip-top of Germany, are legally permitted to produce table wines. Belgium, whose vinous history has been overshadowed by its beer culture, quadrupled production between 2006 and 2018; it’s forecasted to become a champion, alongside Finland, Sweden and other boreal climes. Shockingly, even England has also successfully entered the modern fine wine scene.

With better wine from regions we know and new wine from previously uncharted areas, it may appear the wine world is becoming better off. In truth, however, this is a thin silver lining to ever-worsening viticultural challenges.

If the growing season becomes too hot, fruit will push through its life cycle too quickly and characteristics like tannins and anthocyanins, the compounds responsible for giving grape skins their colour, won’t develop properly. Muted acid and increased alcohol levels are also possible and often undesirable.

Variations between daytime and nighttime temperatures are in jeopardy as well. In warmer growing regions, that difference can be crucial to achieving freshness and encouraging certain flavour and aroma development.

Intense heat or too much direct sunlight can lead to dried fruit notes or create flabby and dull wines. Fruit that’s left too long on the vine can be damaged from sunburn or may simply shrivel. Vines may just shut down to protect themselves.

This is already happening in some places. Wine growers in northern Italy have already seen sunburnt crops with increasing frequency. The summer of 2019 in Southern Australia was the hottest since national records began in 1910, and it ushered in an 8% loss of white wine varieties, with Chardonnay dropping 12% to its lowest yield in the past five years. Growers in Priorat, Spain, reported devastating vine damage, scorched leaves and desiccated grapes when temperatures shot up to a record 107.6˚F.

Climate change is complicated, however, and, even though temperature is the most influential factor in overall growth and productivity of wine grapes, there’s more than rising mercury to think about.

Winter, and all of its prescriptions, is one of those other things. We typically talk about warming, yet, freezes during the winter or extreme frost in the spring don’t go away. They may become less frequent, but potentially more severe. A decrease in regular winter frosts may also encourage the spread of pests and insect-borne diseases that would normally die off during cold seasons.

Moisture is pivotal. Too much rain approaching or during harvest can lead to watery grapes and a weak vintage. Similar to mild winters, damp, soggy and humid conditions open the door to a variety of pests, fungi, mildew and disease pressures.

All of these intricacies and others work in conjunction with temperature to dictate what vines can successfully grow where and for how long—and all are increasingly unpredictable or totally upended in the face of climate change.

The people who grow, make and sell wine are tuned in to these nuances.

A greater number of producers are rethinking canopy management, vine trellising or pruning techniques, developing cover crops and extensive shading methods, increasing vineyard biodiversity and finding ways to reuse water.

Still, there are some challenges that cannot be overcome.

In the future, I expect growers to struggle with maintaining varieties in certain regions without major interventions. If they don’t make major changes, wine producers will see declining yields - already seen in Europe - and declining quality as the varieties become increasingly mismatched to the climate.

Producers have begun grafting new rootstocks and experimenting with different grapes. In South Africa, Vinpro, aided tests of drought-resistant varieties including Assyrtico and Marselan, for example. Australian producers have tried Italian grapes like Fiano, Vermentino and Nero d’Avola that thrive in warmer settings.

In Old World regions, where grapes and blends may be prescribed by law, the idea of swapping plantings is monumental.

Bordeaux is one such place, and, at a 2019 General Assembly meeting, it finally relented. The Union of Bordeaux AOC and Bordeaux Supérieur winemakers unanimously approved a list of seven “varieties of interest for adapting to climate change”: Arinarnoa, Castets, Marselan, Touriga Nacional, Alvarinho, Liliorila and Petit Manseng.

The approval of these new plantings signals just how committed the region is to preserving the future of fine wine.

Each of the various tactics being implemented worldwide take lots of time, tests and research. Some experienced wine producers think it would take about 21 years to change course because of how long it takes to plant vines, grow grapes, and then create and age a wine; finding sustainable farming practices for a plot takes trial and error.

Further, the methods being devised now may not be applicable down the road. Though there are several models in use to try and predict changes, they are attempting to track a nonlinear problem that’s dependent on a range of forthcoming scenarios.

Basically, the only thing we do know for certain is that it will get warmer, and that we may be able to anticipate that heat before it hits us.We have to be asking what we can do now to preserve the integrity of the grapes and vineyards we work with and look for where our opportunities are to continue making wine. The one line that works for everyone is to cut carbon emissions, that is the emergency action that needs to be taken.

We’re all starting to see this and we’re all affected. We know we can’t turn it backwards, and we’re not even sure we can slow it down. But we have to try.

Think on all this the next time you take a sip of wine.

#wine #vineyard #frost #climate change #environment #economic disaster #harvest #france #bordeaux #bourgogne #champagne #weather #wine business #personal #personal pics #family

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supernovanim · 4 years ago

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Neighbours

This is my first attempt at fanfic. To be honest I’m super bored at the moment and this just kinda happened. Let me know if you’d like a part 2, if anyone actually reads this. I wrote part 2. Feedback welcome.

Summary: It’s the middle of a pandemic and you’re bored in your new house. Until your next door neighbour makes things a lot more interesting.

Pairing: Female Reader x Dylan O’Brien

Word Count: 1273

Warnings: swearing, voyeurism, light smut, I’m british so might get some americanisms wrong

Lockdown Day 5

Looking out of your kitchen window you surveyed the bare earth with dismay. All those lovely trees, gone. At least the work had been completed before the pandemic properly hit California. According to the site survey if the roots had got any bigger your entire kitchen would have dropped three foot, which would have been especially awkward as you were now spending most of your time in here.

You’d moved into the house around a month ago. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined living in the Hollywood Hills, but your long-lost great aunt had apparently been something special in 1950s LA. And had left it all to you – given you’d only met her once, it felt more like the plot of a movie than real life. Reality hit when you moved in – the place was in urgent need of some love. The line of trees along the boundary fence being first on the list.

As they were your trees your lawyer had confirmed you didn’t need permission from next door to remove them. Still, you’d dropped a note in their mailbox, assuring them you were planning on erecting a much higher fence once the trees had gone. Except then lockdown had happened, and all your plans for a rose-entwined trellis had evaporated. Leaving you with this patch of bare earth, and next door with an uninterrupted view down into your kitchen.

You’d never met your neighbour. Apparently, he was some actor, which was hardly unusual for round here. Still, his house was nice, much nicer than yours. You could just see the end of a grey topped kitchen counter, and minimalist white floors. A fruit bowl sat on the counter containing a solitary lemon. Nice to see even rich people were struggling with grocery shopping.

Your kitchen was mostly brown – brown cupboards, brown tiles. Your aunt had redecorated in the 70s and not done much since. You’d put in a new fridge-freezer but would need to wait for the rest. Unfortunately, the salary of an advertising copywriter didn’t quite stretch to marble floors and sleek minimalist counters. You’d have to start saving.

Wondering how long you’d have to save to afford just one of your neighbour’s cupboard doors, you started making breakfast. At least nowadays you had time to do it properly, and you hummed quietly to yourself as you ground the coffee beans and cracked eggs into a bowl. Turning to your phone you opened Spotify and hooked it up to the nearby portable speaker, pressing play on the Supremes.

Just as you performed a perfect spin in front of the stove-top coffee percolator, you noticed a movement out of the corner of your eye. You looked up out of the window, which is when you finally met your neighbour. Well, saw him anyway. It was quite a sight. Dark scruffy hair, pale skin with a scattering of moles, a bit of stubble. He was wearing low slung sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, which was riding up as he reached up into a cupboard, showing a glimpse of toned stomach. Your mouth felt suddenly dry, and underneath your shirt you could feel your nipples instantly harden against the soft fabric. Jesus wept; the guy was gorgeous. And you weren’t just saying that because the only guys you’d seen in the flesh in the past week were delivering your pizza.

He closed the cupboard, holding a coffee mug. Then glanced out of the window, looking down to where you were standing, probably with your jaw hanging open.

Amber eyes met yours and blinked. He smirked, raising one hand in a slow greeting.

Suddenly conscious that your shirt hardly covered your ass, you raised a hand in return, smiled and met his gaze. Wow.

After a few seconds you returned to reality with a bang. This was a hot actor, you were a penniless copywriter. Romcoms weren’t real, and you had eggs to cook. But you couldn’t help but feel lockdown had just got a whole lot more interesting…

Lockdown Day 7

Since that morning breakfast meeting you hadn’t seen much of Dylan (yes, you’d immediately Googled him and found out his name). He wasn’t up as early as you, and certainly didn’t seem to spend quite so much time in his kitchen. Sometimes empty beer bottles would appear on his counter, so you guessed he was making the most of time off from filming.

Still, life must go one, which is why you’d arranged a Zoom date with someone you’d been messaging on Tinder. It gave you something to look forward to and would distract you from thoughts of the hot neighbour. You hadn’t had sex in weeks, and it was beginning to get to you. Hopefully this date wouldn’t just frustrate you further.

It was late evening, with the sun just setting over the spectacular view from your bedroom balcony. Inside, you looked critically at yourself in the full-length mirror. Was sexy lingerie too much for a Zoom date? What was the etiquette on these things anyway? You had chosen a pale pink lace demi-cup plunge bra. It barely covered your nipples, your breasts spilling out of the front. Teamed with the matching lacy shorts you had to admit you looked good. Obviously, you’d put a dress on before the call, but it paid to be prepared. The combination of not leaving your house, a lack of human contact, and oh yeah, the eye candy next door had made you really horny. A problem with the aircon wasn’t helping – the bedroom was sweltering. You felt a drop of sweat run down the back of your neck.

Without even thinking about it you walked into your kitchen, bare feet padding across the cool tiles. You flung open the freezer to try and find some relief from the heat. Pulling your hair up into a loose top knot, you fanned yourself with one hand, leaning on the freezer door with the other. In the darkening kitchen the only light was from within the appliance.

You glanced to your left and realised you weren’t entirely alone. Fully illuminated by his kitchen lights at his window stood Dylan, paused in surprise with a beer bottle raised to his lips. He raised his eyebrows and gulped, his eyes travelling across your skimpy outfit. Lowering the beer bottle, he mouthed something:

“Fuck”

Yeah, exactly, you thought. Covering your surprise, you bit your lip. He was shirtless, wearing just a pair of shorts and a backwards cap over his scruffy hair. His muscles were well-defined but not too much, exactly what you liked. A smattering of chest hair led your eyes down to his waistband.

Biting back a low groan, you reached into the freezer with one hand. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed an ice cube and pulled it out. Looking straight into his eyes you ran the cube down your neck, the heat from your skin starting to melt it on contact. Drops of water ran down your breasts to hit the lace of your bra. Your hand moved lower skirting your nipples and then running down your stomach. God, that felt good. His eyes followed your hand and then glanced back up at you. “Hot”, he mouthed silently.

You swallowed hard. And realised you only had five minutes before your date. You glanced at the growing bulge in Dylan’s shorts and internally shrugged. Popping the remains of the melted ice cube in your mouth you closed the freezer door, so you were now in darkness, and left the kitchen to go find your laptop. Good things come to those who wait…

Read Part 2 next!

#dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien fanfiction smut #dylan o'brien x reader smut #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien fanfiction

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brywrites · 4 years ago

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Little Beautiful

Summary: In which Max’s art exhibit is a gallery of beautiful things, and Spencer Reid finds himself surprised by what it includes. Spencer Reid x Max Brenner

.......

Spencer Reid can name many beautiful things. He can talk in depth about the natural splendor of the Golden Ratio and why humans love symmetry. He can explain the history of the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, recount the painstaking detail with which the Taj Mahal was built. He’s seen desert sunsets and shooting stars and the faces of parents reunited with children they thought they might never see again.

He loves all the great and beautiful things in the world. And nobody quite makes the world look as beautiful as Max does. She’s protective of her art, fiercely private about it, but the glimpses she allows him stun him. Then again, he figures he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she’s beautiful.

Reid thinks he could never tire of looking at her. Her wide, brown eyes, her long eyelashes, the way her cheeks are painted pink each time he pushes her hair back from her face. Her smile just knocks him out. Her movements are graceful, elegant. And the sight of her bare body in the soft light of his bedroom makes him think that no word in any language could ever even hope to come close to describing this sort of perfection.

Everything about her puts a sunset to shame. Her laugh. The way she makes him smile on the worst days. The softness of her touch when her skin is on his. The warmth of her embrace. The kindness of her heart. There’s no doubt, Maxine Brenner is beautiful, in every sense of the grossly inadequate word.

But beauty has a way of reminding him of his own inadequacies. For all his love of lovely things, Reid knows the word is never one he could hope to claim. His face won’t ever inspire poetry. His hair is, at best, an unruly mess. His stubble is always a little scruffier than he’d like it to be. And while he managed to get physically stronger after Milburn, getting in shape didn’t quite happen. He can hold an unsub on the ground without worry, but he’s absolutely terrified each time he undresses before her.

But he loves her. Which is why when she hands him a flyer that reads, Little Beautiful, he knows he’ll say yes to whatever it is before she even explains.

“I have a confession to make,” Max says. “I didn’t want to tell you sooner because I was afraid I might jinx it, but now that it’s all official – I’m going to have an exhibition at Jolie Laide!” Jolie Laide is one of the District’s most revered contemporary commercial galleries, and Max is understandably over the moon.

“What?” he gasps. “When did this happen? How?”

“There was a call for submissions, and well I’ve been working on this idea for a while and I figured why not give it a shot? Spencer, they loved it! They actually loved my art!” she says, and the little hop of joy in her step makes him want to kiss her right there in the middle of the street. Is she even aware of how adorable she is?

“That’s incredible. I mean, I’m not surprised. Everything you do is incredible. But what’s the title mean?” he asks, pointing at the flyer.

“It’s a Van Gogh reference,” she says, and he smiles. Of course it is. The Dutch master will always have a spot in her heart, and in the small “Starry Night” tattoo on her inner arm. “Find things beautiful as much as you can,” she recites. “Most people find too little beautiful.”

She takes his hand in hers. Her hands are small and dainty. He could almost close his fingers around hers completely. It makes him think he must look so strange beside her, a mess of lanky limbs.

“I know that big parties aren’t really your scene,” Max says. “But the opening night is kind of a big deal and it would really mean a lot to me if you came.”

“Are you kidding me?” he laughs. They turn down the street to his apartment. “You’re my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for five months, three weeks, and five days. Of course I’m going to be there.”

“Well good. And tell your friends! The more the merrier. I think you’re really gonna like it,” she adds, with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes his stomach flip.

“If you made it, I know I’ll love it.” Deciding the doorstep of his building is close enough, he leans down to kiss her.

Two weeks later, he finds himself standing in the lobby of Jolie Laide with the rest of his team. Many of them have decided to make a date night of the event, as it’s not often profilers have the excuse to attend a formal event. Reid shifts nervously from foot to foot as they wait for the doors to open. Somehow he still feels out of place in nice suit, wearing the “Starry Night” tie she bought him at a work trip she took to the MoMA. Everyone here looks so beautiful, and he feels like he’s playing dress up, like they’ll all be able to tell he doesn’t belong in a place like this. He’s all too aware of the way he hasn’t managed to tame his hair, of the way his shirt fits a little tighter than it used to, of the way the people around him exude an air effortless cool that he could never hope to.

To ease his mind, he takes comfort in counting the people waiting. They’re all here for Max, for the beautiful things she makes. The last time he was at a gallery opening like this he was standing in a sweater vest next to Gideon who was flirting with the artist while Reid tried not to stare too much at Lila Archer. The memory makes him want to laugh – how infatuated he felt at that time with her. And now with Max, he can’t imagine thinking such a feeling was love. It’s so different than the consuming warmth he feels when he’s with her, the way hearing her voice can bring him back down to earth when his mind moves too quickly, the way he he’s always hated touch but never seems to mind when it’s her. Rather he craves the feeling of her hand in his, her arms around him, her lips on his skin. He’s in love with her, and he’s in deep.

The clock strikes seven and the doors are opened. They step into the bright white gallery space. The moment he’s inside, he is in awe. He recognizes Max’s work immediately, and it’s everywhere. There are large canvas paintings of small objects that take up so much space. There are paintings that must be zoomed in, hyper-focused views of much bigger objects. And it’s all beautiful. Max’s work has the same mastery over colors as the Impressionists, but with contemporary details and precision. Her paintings don’t just look like something, they feel like something. There is a series of pieces of stunningly detailed school supplies – a crayon, a yellow pencil, a bottle of glue. They seem to reflect light, possessing colors far too rich for items so simple.

Max has made them lovely with her gaze, with her hands.

In one painting, a vibrant sunset is seen through a small window. In another, the trunk of a tree is made to look so close that the leaves the viewer stares up at are but a golden blur. Fruit, a butterfly’s wing, and a flower are made into a kaleidoscope of colors. He catches glimpses of familiar faces in portraits – her sister Michelle’s eye, her father’s hand, identifiable by his watch, holding a baseball with vibrant red stitching.

“Wow,” Simmons says, standing beside him. “This is amazing. I mean, I don’t always get art, you know? But damn. Max is talented.”

“She sure is,” Reid says. But he’s only half listening, because he’s taken in by it, by all of it. This is the world through Max’s eyes. All these little details, all the little beautiful things that she sees. And she has reflected them back to the world in a way that takes his breath away.

The unfamiliar voice of an man calls the gallery to attention through a microphone, and Reid makes his way back towards the entrance where all the guests are slowly gathering.

“I now have the pleasure of introducing tonight’s guest of honor, Maxine Brenner,” a man with tiny wire-rimmed classes says.

Reid joins the crowd, falling into place beside Garcia and JJ just in time to see Max walk over in a white lace dress. She is utterly radiant, resplendent. His heart quickens at the sight of her. She takes the microphone and thanks the man with a dazzling smile. “Thank you all for being here,” she says. “It’s truly an honor to share this night with you, and I’m thankful to Jolie Laide for the opportunity to do so. It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that Van Gogh is my favorite artist. He once said, find things beautiful as much as you can. Most people find too little beautiful. The concept for this exhibit was to find all the beautiful things that we overlook. I wanted to pay attention to their little details and find new ways to show the world what beautiful is and what it could be. Every painting is of something I’ve found lovely – whether it’s a natural phenomenon seen through a new lens or an everyday object that just needs someone to notice it or a person–”

She pauses and her gaze moves over the crowd until she spots him. And that mischievous glimmer returns to her eyes. “– who doesn’t realize how beautiful they are. I hope that tonight helps you all to see the beauty around you and in yourselves, and maybe encourages you to see things a little differently, and to find the world a little more beautiful.” As she bows, the room bursts into applause and he swells with pride. This is her moment, and she’s beaming, and he couldn’t be more happy for her.

He wants to go up and hug her, but a swarm of admirers immediately descends upon her with enthusiastic questions and curious remarks. This is her night. He knows that when she wants to talk to him, she’ll let him know. For now, he’ll let these strangers have their moment with her – he can have all of the time in the world with her. The team opts to take a break to help themselves to the refreshment table and Emily offers to grab him a drink, but he politely refuses. He wants to keep walking around.

He can’t help but smile as he does so, hearing the praise and wonder in the words of the other guests. Yes, he wants to tell them. Yes, she’s that talented. Yes, she notices things nobody else does. And she’s hilarious and generous and gorgeous and somehow, somehow I am hers. But how unsightly it would be of him, in his suit and crooked tie, with his messy hair and off-balance gait to interrupt these strangers reveling at the beauty before them. So he stays quiet, happy just to be here. Happy to have the privilege to even witness such beauty.

When he turns the corner, he’s grateful he declined that drink because if there were a glass in his hand, he surely would have dropped it. Many of Max’s pieces are gathered on walls or in corners in groups based on themes or subjects. And in this particular nook, he finds himself uncomfortably familiar with the face staring back at him from one of them. The same face he has stared down in the mirror a thousand times.

It strikes him – Max has painted him. Reid steps closer and realizes it’s not just one painting. The whole wall is him. There is a painting of just one honey-colored eye, gazing down. A hand on the spine of a book. His lips, slightly parted, just a little uneven. His shoulders and collarbone, the slope of his neck and the curve of his chin, a few wild curls visible in the narrow view of the painting. And two portraits where his face is fully visible.

The brushstrokes are so careful, the colors so soft. She paints him in curves and edges and tiny hints of unexpected hues. She paints him with such detail, as though she has tried to memorize every inch of him. She has painted him beautiful.

And for a thirty-six seconds he can’t breathe. He just stares. Because this is how she sees him. And she’s put it on display for all the world to see.

“There’s a level of precision in these that I didn’t see in the other portraits,” an older woman says to a young woman beside her. “I can’t explain it, but it somehow feels like they were more… lovingly painted.”

“Like she knew exactly how they should feel,” her companion agrees.

“The subject has such a striking jawline,” a man says to the woman holding his hand. “And I like the way she painted his hair. Every curl is so careful.”

“It’s really beautiful,” she says, pointing to one of the portraits. Max has painted him smiling, gazing upwards, and he isn’t even sure if he’s capable of looking that way. “I think this one might be my favorite overall.” When they step aside, he can read the small placard on the wall naming the paintings. It reads, “And if I asked you to name all the things you love, how long would it take for you to name yourself?” Series. Oil on canvas. 2020.

Reid swallows hard, past the lump of emotions lodged in his throat, and turns quickly to walk to another corner of the gallery, both to avoid recognition and because if he keeps looking he thinks he might cry. But when he turns, she’s standing right there. Looking up at him through her long lashes, her graceful hands clasped in front of her as she waits in that lovely lace dress.

“Do you like it?” she asks him, nodding at the corner.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why did you paint me?”

Max smiles. “I told you, Magic Man, I wanted to paint pretty things.”

He shakes his head. “But I’m not – I mean, look at me, I’m–”

“I am looking.” She reaches up to brush her fingers against his cheek, having to stand on her toes even in heels to do so. “And you are beautiful. My beautiful. I wanted to show you the way I see you. Because of all the beautiful things, none of them make me feel quite like you do.”

Max takes his hand and walks up to the paintings. She says nothing, just waits as he looks at them close up, unafraid of someone realizing he’s looking at himself. He stares at the light and shadows created by her paintbrush. The bright colors that draw attention over painted skin. The soft gaze, the eyes that seem to look so alive. Stray freckles, flecks of tan and gold. It feels so astonishingly intimate. There’s no denying that her work is remarkable. It is beautiful.

And this is how she sees him. Worthy of that sort of attention. Capable of bringing those kinds of colors to life. And when he faces her, he realizes – the painting with the smile. He does look that way. He can feel the movement of the muscles in his face forming a near mirror image as he realizes he only ever looks that way at her.

“Thank you,” he says. Max pulls him down to kiss him, her lips so sweet, and it feels beautiful. He thinks that if they were not here, surrounded by other people, that he would love nothing more than to avail her of that beautiful dress and paint patterns of her skin with his fingertips, give every inch of her the same level of attention with his lips that she did with her paints, and whisper over and over to her just how lovely he finds her.

But they’re not alone, not yet. “Well I’ll be damned,” Morgan says. All of his friends are there, having discovered this nook of the gallery. “Look at that! She somehow managed to make you look even prettier than usual, Pretty Boy.” Reid flushes crimson as they praise Max’s work. She joins them to walk around the rest of the gallery, her hand in his, and from time to time he swears he can see someone staring at the two of them, and he knows they recognize his face. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how the rest of the world looks at him, so long as he knows the way he looks through her eyes. For the first time, he can see himself the way she sees him. As he is, not as he fears he is.

Somehow, this has become his life. Walking through a gallery of paintings made by his favorite person, while she gazes at him like he’s her only muse, telling him that he belongs among lovely things. Somehow believing it all. Somehow at home surrounded by strangers and a few of the people he trusts most. This is his life. And what a beautiful life it is.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x max #spencer reid x max brenner #max brenner #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfiction #imagine #little beautiful #brywrites

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imjustkindafloating · 4 years ago

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Starry Eyed Boy, Part 5

Summary: Logan and Virgil explore the new planet. (They go to a restaurant, basically. We almost to the good shit, babes)

Pairings: Pre-Romantic Analogical / Eventual Analogical, Established Royality

Word Count: 1,419

Warnings: Weird guy flirting (mentioned), Cursing, lmk if i need to add more.

Notes: You’ve got a big storm coming. ;)

Taglist: @shitpost-sides @gothybubby @rainbowbowtie @hikarisakurariver @singularthoughtofstatic @supersoftsupersleep @gabrieldoesstuff @justthatamount @judyismydog @star-crossed-shipper @high-ashell-hargrove

Knock. Knock.

No, thank you. Virgil thought and rolled over.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Virgil groaned and rolled over to face the ceiling. Wait. Fuck!

Virgil shot out of bed, quickly calling out a loud, “Come in!”. Logan opened the door and leaned against the wall. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked as he watches Virgil open his luggage bag and sift through the clothes. “The drawers are full of specially made clothes.” Virgil nodded as he held up a t-shirt, then shook his head. Logan smirked and walked towards the drawers. He pulled one open, found suitable clothes, and then handed them to a confused-looking Virgil. Virgil dropped the t-shirt he was holding and took the clothes. A dark purple shirt with small rips in it, a black jacket with purple patches... and.. black jeans. Oh, yeah. The new clothes. He thought as the sluggishness swept away.

“Are you--” He paused to yawn. “Sure I can have these?” He mumbled from behind his hand. It looked like he was trying to hide his whole body behind his arm. Logan had half the mind to stop himself from chucking at the shorter male.

“Yes, Virgil. Emile was very insistent on what you would like to wear, and I knew you wouldn’t want to answer him. So I answered for you. Sorry for the intrusion, I may have looked at the sizes of your clothes.” Virgil blinked, not unlike the cats on earth.

“Oh.”

Logan chuckled and hummed. “I’ll leave you to get dressed, we have a long day ahead of us. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” Then he proceeded to walk out of the lavish room.

-----

Virgil slowly got dressed as he actually took in the room around him. The walls were painted in a soft lavender color, while the trims were a solid black. The bed had a large canopy, in black, although it was see-through. The comforters were thick and soft. Easy to sleep on. He thought. The floor was dark wood, one that he couldn’t identify because it was tinted... purple? At the edge of the bed, there was a crate. On the other half of the room was a large, paper-thin TV. A weirdly shaped sofa and armchair. There were floating balls of light floating around the whole room, almost like fairy lights, if they could levitate. Everything looked a bit more round than back on earth. At the end of the room, opposite the door, was a large window. Virgil fully dressed now, went to the window. Before he did, he smudged eye shadow under his eyes. He pushed the curtain over slightly, just enough for a line of light to seep into the room.

Virgil’s eyes widened when he laid eyes on the city in front of him. Cars, if you could call them that, zoomed through the air. There was short grass everywhere, except for small roads, that Virgil assumed were technically sidewalks. No cars drove there. The roads bustled with people, while trees lined the sidewalks with grass beneath. The buildings looked entirely natural and completely technological all at once.

“That is Arteska, Virgil.” Logan’s voice said behind him. Virgil spun around with his mouth hung open.

“Logan?! Fucking hell, dude... warn a dude next time.” Virgil muttered, his hand on his chest as he hunched over slightly.

“Apologies. You took quite a long time, I began to get worried. I knocked but you didn’t seem to hear me.”

“I- it’s alright,” Virgil whispered as he watched Logan run his eyes up and down his form. With a surge of confidence, Virgil shoved down the voices telling him not to, he said "You know, that's considered rude on earth."

Logan blinked before turning his head, a blueish blush creeping onto his face and pointed ears. "Again, my apologies." He murmured.

"I didn't mind it. It's alright, Lo." Virgil winked, as his face flushed a deep red. He coughed, "Let's go..?"

Logan fought a smile and nodded. "Let's."

-----

Exiting the castle must've taken at least thirty minutes. The winding paths seemed to take forever to get out of. Thankfully, Logan seemed to know where he was going. Along the way, Virgil had drifted closer to Logan, as the hallways bustled with different people. Two people were carrying a large crate down the hall and suddenly, they dropped it, letting red and blue fruit topple out. Virgil jumped at this and grabbed Logan’s arm. He had yet to let go. Logan hadn't told him to let go yet and it seemed to make people stop staring. (Logan was really glaring at the people as to not make them gaze at them.)

After the short excursion to get out of the castle, they reached a huge open door. People walked in and out, chatting and laughing as they passed. Logan started to lead Virgil out the front door while Virgil slowly saw the world emerge before him. Everything was the same but so much clearer. Shops lined the streets and the roads, now clearly a grey brick pattern was bustling with people. Smells filled Virgil’s nose and he smiled. For some reason, it smelt like home.

-----

Logan and Virgil weaved through the streets until Logan decided it was time to eat. He stopped at a place called Patton-Cakes. Right next to the shop seemed to be another restaurant called J's Coffee.

"Y'all have coffee?"

"A sort. It serves the same purpose as coffee, though I doubt it will taste the same as on earth."

"Good, I hate coffee."

"When at your apartment on earth, you drank it every morning..?"

"I needed my bean juice, Lo."

"I'm not even going to attempt to understand what you just said."

They walked inside and a short, chubby man with strawberry blonde hair and freckles littering his face exclaimed, "Logan! I missed you so much!" he said as he shot his way out from behind the counter and launching himself at Logan, dislodging Virgil’s arm away from Logans. Virgil was more than just a little disappointed. Logan felt safe and he liked the security of it. Maybe something else too. He wasn't stupid, he knew what he felt, he just wasn't the kind the make the first move. Logan would have to do that. Until then, Virgil would just let it be known he was interested.

The small man pulled away and started to rock on his heels. "Sooooo... you're Sir Emile’s kiddo? I'm Patton!" He said brightly, as he held open his arms. Virgil slowly moved behind Logan and waved. He mumbled a small "No thank you, please." People were staring and Virgil could feel the pool of panic settle in his stomach. Patton smiled and seemed to understand, which for Virgil was a relief.

"Virgil, could you go find us a seat? You don't have to unless you don't want to. I can go with you if need be." Virgil nodded and said that 'I'm not a kid, Lo.'

He found a seat near the counter, not unlike the booths at waffle house back home. It was secluded more than the other ones and when he looked at Logan for an okay, he got a thumbs up and an awkward smile as Patton grinned knowingly back at Logan and then at Virgil.

Logan eventually came to sit at the table, with blue blush creeping up his face. Virgil felt a pit in his stomach. 'What did Patton say to Logan that made him blush?'

-----

Leaving the restaurant with Logan’s arm around his waist was NOT apart or the plan, if Virgil was being honest.

When a man approached Virgil as he got up to get a refill from Patton, Logan had jumped in and put his arm around Virgil’s waist with a growled, "He's taken." Virgil didn't understand what made Logan say that, and he wasn't honestly complaining. What was more upsetting was the fact that Logan was now in front of him apologizing, bright blue, in his fucking bedroom.

"--gain, I'm incredibly sorry, the man was clearly being flirtatious with you and while you're new to the planet, people know who you are--" Virgil put his pointer finger over Logan’s lips. He was speaking a mile a minute.

"I don't care, L. I have trouble realizing when people are flirting with me at any rate, so thanks." Then he moved his finger away with a smile. Then the windows covered themselves in thick metal, while a loud robotic voice announced “Electrical storm, inbound.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #ts emile picani #thomas sanders #starry eyed boy au

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tanakavox · 4 years ago

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Taiyang was sitting down reading the morning paper, when he heard a loud knocking coming from the front door of the house. The knocking was in a pattern reminiscent to one of Zwei’s games that he had overheard before, and so he had a fairly good idea of who it was. He neatly laid his paper down before getting up and making his way to the door, opening it to reveal a young girl with short red hair that covered one of her bright violet eyes with a basket on one of her arms filled with fruits.

She crooned her head up to look him in the eyes, before flashing him a bright smile that Tai couldn’t help but return in kind, before greeting him with an enthusiastic wave of her free hand.

“Hello Mr. Taiyang,” she happily chirped, “is Zwei here by chance?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs in his room. Why don’t you come on in and make yourself at home,” Tai greeted in kind, inviting the young red head into his household.

She flashed him another smile as she walked inside, handing him a fresh apple from her basket, before making her way into the living room. As she made her way in, she paused before letting out an excited gasp as she saw Yang and Ruby relaxing in the room. Yang was seated in a recliner chair, while Ruby was sitting on the sofa cuddled up next to a blond haired boy with blue eyes who, unbeknownst to Rosemary, was shooting her a curious look.

“Yang, Ruby, you’re back,” she cheered as she ran up to hug the closest sister to her, which happened to be Yang

Yang rose out of her seat to greet the younger girl, kneeling down to her level before swooping her up as she happily returned Rosemary’s embrace.

“Hey there Rosey, long time no see huh,” she said with a warm smile, before taking notice of the basket in Rosemary's hand, “Oh, is that fresh fruit from your garden?” Rosemary nodded and handed an Orange to Yang and walked over to Ruby who laid on the couch and paused when she saw the blonde boy on the couch behind Ruby with his arms wrapped around her. She places the basket on the table and Ruby gives Rosemary the same warm smile.

“Hey Rosemary.” Ruby tilts her head up to Jaune. “This is Rosemary Thornbush, Jaune. She lives nearby. Rosey, Jaune Arc. My boyfriend.” Rosey eyes widen a bit.

“You're the boyfriend?!” She all but screamed. Jaune looked at the red haired girl a bit confused.

“Hi Rosemary... Uh, how do you know about me?”

“Zwei probably told her. They tell each other everything.” Yang replied, peeling orange Rosemary given her and taking a huge. The sounds of footsteps running down appeared and Zwei appeared smiling brightly at the sight of Rosemary, a smile that was returned by Rosemary and they ran toward each other and locked their heads, pushing each other back.

“Rosey!” Zwei said with a grin pushing her back as far as he can.

“Zwei!” She grinned as well pushing him back with the same amount of effort. Jaune looked baffled. Ruby looked up to see her boyfriend’s expression and laughed.

“Yeah. I know they're weird.” Zwei and Rosemary turn to blow a raspberry at Ruby which she returns. The young fanaus grabbed Rosemary hands and began to lead her outside.

“Come on, Rosey, let's go play Rock throw.” The two ran outside into the yard.

“Rock throw?” Jaune questioned, once again confused.

“It’s just some game where they throw rocks as far as they can.” Yang said, still eating the orange. “Zwei tries to cheat at that game a lot.”

“Okay, but he has a Ps4 and Xbox in his room. Why not play that?”

“Best not to question ten years old Jaune.”

Jaune wanted to argue more but knew Yang had a point, so he dropped it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up Taiyang giving him a small smile.

“Hey there Jaune. You mind if we talk, just you and I?” Taiyang asked Jaune to try not to look nervous but it clearly failed as Tai went to reassure him. “Hey relax. It’s not big, just a friendly chat.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Jaune stood up and followed Tai into the next room, leaving Yang and Ruby alone Ruby turned to Yang and pulled out a switch.

“Pokemon or Smash?” She asked. Yang pulls out her own switch with a grin.

“Smash bros!” They sat down and began to play.

____________________________________________________________________________

‘’Zwei ran a bit into the forest with Rosemary far enough that the house was in sight. They both pick up some rocks and Rosemary turns her friend.

“Don’t use your semblance, kay Zwei? Rosemary said with a smile. Zwei smiled back juggling a few pebbles.

“I promise I won’t use my semblance.” Rosemary stared at him.

Promise?”

“Yes!”

Rosemary turns away from and goes for her turn and using all the strength in her ten year old arms, sends the rock a good distance away from their arms. She turned to her friend with a huge grin.

“HA! Beat that!” Rosemary said triumphantly. Zwei grinned back and channeled a bit of his aura into the pebble he was holding, blue energy surrounded it, and with a lazy arm swing, the pebble went zooming past the trees and high into the sky.

Rosemary turned to them with a glare and crossed her arms.

“You said you weren’t gonna use your semblance Zwei!” Rosemary said, still glaring at her friend.

“I didn’t!” Zwei said, holding back a smirk. The Redhair glared at him harder.

“You lie! You cheated.”

“Did not!

“Yeah huh!”

“Nope!” Zwei popped the nope with a smirk. “And you can’t prove I did!”

Rosemary stare at the corgi fanus for a few with a blank stare before giving him a malicious grin and turning toward the house and taking a deep inhale and screaming out:”RUBY!” as loud as she could. Zwei paled and started to wave his hands frantically.

“Okay Okay Okay! I did cheat! Are you happy now.” He panicked. Rosemary gave him a smug look as a storm as red petals came toward them, stopping in front of them, Ruby looked at the kids with a worried look.

“I heard Rosemary scream, you guys okay?!” Ruby exclaimed, kneeling down and beginning to check the kids over for injuries.

“Nothing. I just thought I saw beowulf, false alarm.” Rosemary replied innocently. Ruby sighed, placing a hand on her chest.

“Jeez. Don’t scare me like that!” Ruby there placed her hands on her hips and gave them a disapproving look.”And you two should be closer to the house now come on.” She gesture for them to follow her and begins to walk back to the house, the kids begin to whine a bit.

“But Ruuubbby! We wanna play more!” Zwei whined

“Yeaaaaahhhh. Rosemary said joining him.’

Ruby turns to give them a disapproving stare that causes the kids to flinch and clamp up and walk behind Ruby without a word. She smiles and leads them forward to the paito, turning to pat Zwei’s head.

“Play here okay? I don’t want you guys to go too far and get hurt.” She said as she patted Rosemary's head as well.

“Yes, Ma'am,'' they said together in unison, a bit deadpan in their response. Ruby pinch their cheecks and walk back into the house yelling to Yang about kicking her butt. Rosemary smiled at her as she walked away.

“It’s great to have them back.” She said with a sigh sitting down on the ground. Zwei sighed as well as sat down next to her.

“Yeah. It is.”He replied with a smile but it was soon with a frown.”I just wish she didn’t bring blondie here.

Rosemary gives Zwei a blank stare.”Yang?”

“No dumbass, Jaune!” Rosemary began to laugh at the annoyed look on Zwei’s face and jumped when the patio door opened with Ruby glaring at her brother.

“Laugune Zwei!” She hissed a bit, her tone suggesting she did this song and dance more than once with her brother.

“Sorry sis.” Zwei mutters glaring a bit at the giggling Rosemary. Ruby leaves again and Rosemary turns back to Zwei with a quizzical look.

“What’s your problem with that Jaune guy? He seems nice.”

Zwei scoffed. “Well first he didn’t even know what Ben 10 was and just said some stupid about Transfomers and Ben 10! It was awful! He’s such a lame dork! He even send Optimus prime name wrong!”

Rosemary eyes flash anger. “What really?! Fu-screw this guy!” Rosemary yelling, catching herself from cursing.

“Zwei nodded in agrement and looked a the ground a bit sad. “But… I feel like he’s gonna take Ruby away and then…. I’ll never see her again....

Rosemary gave Zwei a blank stare for a few sew before she replied. “That’s stupid. Your being stupid.”

Zwei looked up with an annoyed look. “Thanks Rosie…” He said saratricsly

Rosemary simply shrugs, “I'm just saying dude. That’s dumb. Ruby is not gonna leave because of a boy.”

“You don’t know what he might be telling her.

“Neither do you. Stupid.”

“Your stupid.”

“No you.”

“No you!

“No you!”

Rosemary stood up push her head up against Zwei’s growling the Corgi fanauns pushing back, growling as well.

“Let’s settle in DB fighterz” said Zwei with a manic grin.

“Yer on!” Rosemary replied with a maniac grin as well. The kids ran into the house up stair to start their next game.

____________________________________________________________________________

Taiyang walk with Jaune into the kitchen and sat him down on the opposite side of the table from himself and stare at the blonde. And to Jaune’s credit he didn’t flinch, or looked scared. Well in his head he was freaking out, wondering why he called him in here, keeping silence until Taiyang broke it.

“So, I’m not gonna keep you here long, but I’ll just get straight to the point. Do you love my daugther?”

Jaune nodded and a bright smile was on his face.”Yes, more than anything. She pick me up when I’m down, believes in me when no one else would, and everytime I’m with her, I feel like I can do anything with her. She… amazing.

Taiyang smiles but it quickly disappears back into a stoic expression. “Well, you answer my second question. I can tell this wasn’t necessary at all. You seem like a good kid, but if you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.” Jaune nods at that semdomly and gets up to leave before Tai puts up his hand to stop him and he gives him a small grin. “Now before we leave, I have a question that isn't related to Ruby at all. You an ass or a boobs man?”

Jaune shakes his head and smiles a bit. “Neither. Thighs for lives.”

Taiyang lets a howl of laughter as he stands up and claps Jaune on the back with a wide smile. “I see you're a man of culture as well!”

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windcalling · 4 years ago

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tonight was my grandpa’s wake, over zoom. I shared some stories there, but I want to put them on here as well. @cygnahime feel free to add on

when I visited my grandparents, often my grandpa and I were the first ones up -- my grandma habitually wakes up after noon. when that happened, I would go out to the kitchen and find my grandpa at the breakfast table: sized for two, up against a window, and next to the flowering tree they have growing inside most of the year.

grandpa was the cook of my grandparents -- I’m told that my grandma cooked when my mom was young, but after grandpa retired she said “it’s your turn”, and it was. he also would make my grandma’s breakfast and bring it to her to eat in bed, and when I was there and came in in the morning, he would ask me if I was hungry too. I would have what he was having: he got large muffins from the grocery store, and we would cut one in quarters and each have half. he’d toast the muffin in the toaster oven, and then spread it with whipped cream cheese -- he said the texture of it was smoother and easier to spread, especially on a muffin (which is pretty soft even after you toast it). we’d also have a little yogurt and fruit on top, and he’d have a small glass of orange juice and maybe coffee. I’d have tea, and coffee later when I got more of a taste for it.

we’d sit at the table and be mostly quiet together. my grandpa was a storyteller, and sometimes he did tell stories -- about the art on the walls around us, or a postcard on the table, or the mugs we were using. the last few visits, I favored a small reddish-brownish mug, and he told the story of where he got it and its pair -- I think it was a pottery sale in a Alabama, maybe? he said “you like that one, you should take it away with you! it’s yours now!” and I said “but grandpa, if I take it with me I won’t have it to drink from here!”

when we sat at that table, the painting on the wall behind me was fascinating -- shades of green, abstract, full of complex rounded shapes all smushed together. he loved that painting, and he’d talk about it -- he’d ask me to look at it, and ask me what I saw, and where my eyes focused. he’d also talk about the painter, who was the wife of a fellow professor when he was teaching. I have a painting by the same artist hanging in my kitchen now, that he had me take last time I visited.

until my grandparents no longer had the mobility, we would take a family vacation every year on Block Island, RI. they would also go back, in September or October I think, the last weekend the hotel we stayed at was open.

one of my grandparents’ magical skills is this: they make friends everywhere. they’re so easy with people, and so interested. and I know many people say that, but:

we went to a restaurant, a fairly nice place -- he liked to take us for one or two nice dinners while we were on vacation. we’ve sat down, and our waitress comes over. I don’t remember her name, but my grandpa notices her name and her accent which I believe was Eastern European, and he knows how people work for the summer on tourist islands like that -- he mentions that he hasn’t seen her before, and asks if this is her first summer here. she says yes, and that she’s earning money for the summer because she’s applying to an English program at a New England university.

my grandpa, the former New England English professor, says, “Which one? What’s your focus?”

when she tells him -- I think it was poetry -- he says, “I know someone in the English department there! What’s your email? I’ll give you his too, and I’ll connect you!”

five minutes, from ‘sitting down at a restaurant’ to ‘networking someone to an English degree’.

my grandpa grew up in a cold-water flat in Brooklyn. he told stories: in the morning, he would take the milk bottles back, and get 5 cents. then he would go and buy 5 cents’ worth of...beans, maybe? and bring that back, and that would be a meal.

we joked, sometimes, that he’s the proof Captain America could be real. when he went to enlist in the Marines, they weighed him, and he was too small. underweight. but the recruiting officer said, “come back in a few days. if you can gain the weight by then, I’ll let you in.”

do you know what you could buy cheap and can eat a lot of, in 1940s brooklyn?

BANANAS.

he ate SO MANY BANANAS. he bought a PALLET of bananas, and ate bananas right up until he went back into the recruitment office, and got weighed, and passed.

and then, if he could help it, he never ate bananas again!

#my stuff #grandparents tag

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isolaradiale · 5 years ago

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Welcome to SpiraleFES 2020!

A word of warning first: this is not an event and does not count as event participation towards ranking up. This is merely a bunch of fun activities that persist throughout July and until the next event in August if you’d like to use them for threads.

The city is decorated festively from top to bottom, each and every ward sporting streamers, festive music, and providing a number of fun events. These can be used for threads throughout July and August, and so we encourage you to make use of them for some interesting interaction ideas! The list of events is as follows:

FIBONACCI WARD

NO PLACE LIKE HOME DECOR Do you find yourself missing that touch of something from home you just can’t seem to find in the city, no matter how hard you look? Well, search no more! Around the parks in various levels of the ward are vendors from familiar places, toting those little somethings from where you came from. Finally, you can find some clothes and other household items that aren’t easily accessible here. And if you look hard enough, you may find one of your personal treasures and trinkets that didn’t travel with you--a music box, a locket, maybe a ring from a family member… Don’t worry, it’ll have your name on it. NOTE: Weapons and other combat items will not be for sale in any of the bazaars.

A ROARIN’ BOREALIS SKATING RINK From the city streets, it looks like a bright ribbon of rainbow light, not unlike the famed Northern Lights. But ride the platform up to the top and see that the shimmering lights are actually a massive skating rink, with a figure 8 loop around the upper tiers of Fibonacci City. You can bring your own skates, or visit the kiosk to rent some LiteSkates--which leave a four-foot trail of light behind you in the color of your choice. There are guard rails around the arena, but even the clumsiest of skaters will be alright. After all, if you fall off the arena, a drone will pick you up and put you back on the ring. NOTE: Available during nighttime only.

ANDROID HELL … or the Ofiuco Rave, by any other name. A series of Radiocats seem to have flocked up to the lower floors of Level 3, and any discrimination towards those who seem like they may not belong has been, luckily (though no doubt only temporarily) shoved aside. Is it the Radiocats that set up the series of bright neon, backlit raves that have crowded varying floors on this level? … who knows. What everyone does know is that they’re certainly jamming out to some, as they say, “sick beats”, and large crowds have been drawn to the fluorescent party. It may be hard to move from place to place, but with the technology here being what it is, if you can see through the strobe for long enough, you’re bound to enjoy yourself! Ofiuco certainly is. NOTE: Ofiuco is immune to all attacks, charms, and other phenomena

CRAFT PUNK Outside of Fibonacci’s towering skyscrapers, nestled in the resident district, is an event with tinkerers in mind. Blending with the steampunk atmosphere is a foundry where your muse can learn the arts of robotics and machines. Classes range from building your own remote-control cars to making toys and household appliances (you know, like those little circular vacuum cleaners? Or a Super Toaster?) For those of you who are particularly adept in the art of machinery, you can enter the Scrap Battle Showdown--a competition to make a battle robot no bigger than a 3ft cube using only the supplies available in the foundry. If you’re caught using any materials from home, you’ll be kicked out!

ZERO G’S, ZERO CARES Ever wanted to go into space to do all the cool astronaut stuff, but not go through the rigorous education and training? This event is for you! Walk through the doors of this massive dome, and you enter a zero-gravity playground, where you can zoom around and float to your heart’s content. There are various pieces of equipment and toys you can rent out and play with, as well as anchored structures to hang off of. And when you get hungry, just visit the astronaut food vending machine!

COTES WARD

PIXIE PERFECT TREASURE HUNT The pixies of the Airaisal Forest have decided to cooperate with outsiders for a one of a kind event. Search the forest with an enchanted teacup pig with a nose for a very particular treasure: rare, golden truffles. Amass five to be awarded the equivalent of 200$ in Dust. But give up, or lose your teacup pig, and you’ll be spending the rest of your day as a fox kit as per pixie punishment.

OPHIUCHUS TREE TOWER Scale the gigantic tree that rises high against the cityscape with an alraune guide. The plant person in question will create a staircase of leaves around the tree’s trunk rising upward, allowing you and small group of friends to traverse the tree in a way normally impossible. Once you reach the canopy get ready to enjoy a one of a kind picnic lunch while you overlook the island from the most magical of vantage points.

NERF JOUSTING Rent a horse from the Market Town coliseum and take up arms against a number of opponents. Well, take up soft foam arms. Experience what it’s like to joust without any of the immediate danger. *any wounds accumulated via falling off your horse will be immediately healed by a fairy.

MAZE BY PIXIE LIGHT An elaborate garden maze illuminate by magic lights provided by the pixies of the village. This event only runs at night and can only be experienced in pairs, but the prize for success is a doozy: a crystal flower that is traditionally exchanged between pixies meant to promise themselves to one another. Receiving this flower as a couple is a promise to remain at one another’s sides through thick and thin.

CANDLE LIGHTING FOR THE LOST During the night, the river that flows at the base of Ophiuchus comes to life with tiny lights as the alraune have arranged a way to send off the fallen, giving any who want one a tiny flower raft with a candle resting upon it. Placing this raft on the lake while considering well wishes for a resident of the city has since left is thought to bring them good fortune… wherever they are. Though in a realm where death isn’t permanent it can also be used to give well wishes to even the living, perhaps someone you know that’s having a hard time.

STAR-DEN TEA PARTY The stars and planets are always so far away, aren’t they? Well, in this outdoor star garden, you’ll be able to walk through paths with lots of little glowing stars and planets--you may even find your home planet drifting in the cosmos! Each star, comet, cluster and planet can be interacted with, with the biggest planets only reaching the size of a beach ball. Letting go of the celestial body will have it simply float gently upward to begin drifting again.The event is catered with a variety of teas, coffees and cocoas, as well as sandwiches and little finger foods. Bring a blanket and gaze at them drifting by! Note: This event is only available when the sun goes down!

GOLDEN WARD

REFRESHING FRUITS A boon of the token fruits of summer. At sunset, the beach’s parking lot transforms into a cute little market selling and showcasing everything melon! Vendors selling melon-themed snacks and drinks ranging from fun to wacky, melon carving contests, melon-themed clothes and other commercial goods, and lots of activities and games... And melon plants, of course! There's bound to be something for everyone.

NOBODY’S BORED! WALK The Boardwalk is offering free admission for the duration of SpiraleFES! Not only that, but it’s open until midnight instead of closing solely at nightfall, and at 10pm each Sunday there’s a fireworks display. With a variety of little games and activities with fun prizes to be won, there’s a guarantee you definitely won’t be running out of things to do any time soon! Drop by at 6pm any night for a free barbecue.

CRUISE CONTROL FOR COOL A cruise ship has docked, decked out in festive banners and balloons for the festivities. Open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with free admission and free souvenirs, there’s a different themed activity on each of those nights! Monday night sports access to the ship’s nightclub, Wednesday sports a murder mystery starting at 8pm, and Friday sports a series of different escape rooms once the sun sets! The cruise ship may or may not be decked out solely in a variety of golden decorations, however.

THE CHILLIN’ VILLAIN A nightclub and lounge has mysteriously popped up on the border of the shadier part of Golden, and goodie two-shoes need not walk through its doors. With a temporary in-house ceasefire, all sorts of villains and antagonists are welcome to share a drink, a dance, and tell of the heists and plots they've devised. And if you'd rather keep your identity hidden, masks will be provided to you at a cost (it's a villain's lounge, not a charity!). NOTE: The ceasefire is mandatory, and all weapons and powers are deactivated upon entering the building

A FOAM-IDABLE FOE Out further into the ocean are a few obstacles, rafts and arenas. On the beach are your weapons: foam armaments of every shape and style--everything from foam swords to guns that shoot foam darts to foam shields and battle-axes. Your task is simple: knock your opponent(s) or opposing team(s) off the platform and into the water using your sick new foam gear. Think of it as a… Foam Battle Royale!Want a challenge? Some of the arenas equalize the strengths and defenses of its challengers, making even the most powerful Isolans only as strong as the weakest contender on the arena. Note: For this event, your combat powers/items will be rendered ineffective!

ARCHIMEDES WARD

ARTE FESTE (MULTIFACETED) All creative minds are welcome to join this massive booth dedicated to arts and crafts. All sorts of classes will be held over the span of the month--from common forms of painting and pottery to the unique art forms of metalworking and glassblowing. Whatever you create in the booth can be taken home, given to a loved one, or sold at the vendor’s tent. Any necessary supplies will be rented to you, but if you break it, you buy it. If performance arts are more your thing, stop by for any of the open mic sessions held at Calliope Theater. NPCs will be hosting plays and short skits that you may be dragged into as an unfortunate audience member, but citizens of Spirale are encouraged to take the stage and wow the crowd with words! Comedy sketches, poetry, and any other magnificent talents of yours are welcome at the stage! Please pay no attention to the guy selling tomatoes to throw. He doesn’t work for us. We don’t know where he came from.

TOO POOL FOR SCHOOL The Water of Styx, while always open to the public, has been decorated much like the rest of the wards. An assortment of pool toys and games have been set up and laid out for all to use as they see fit, including but not limited to some of the largest pool noodles you’ll ever see, a variety of pool floats in all shapes and sizes, and a volleyball net set up toward one end of the pool for all to enjoy a game. Refreshments and snacks provided! Some of the smaller pools around the ward have similarly been decked out in a multitude of fun pool supplies, but not nearly to the extent as the Water of Styx.

FLASH FASHION (THE DEPARTMENT WOULDN’T LET US NAME IT “FLASHION”) Highlighting the summer fashion scene is this joint-event, perfect for participants of all levels of experience. Those skilled in the art of the cloth can showcase their designs both on mannequins or in person in the display booth. There are all sorts of categories to enter your pieces into, so don’t be shy to show what you’re made of! Those that have an eye for photography are encouraged to come and snap some photos of the spectacle; the fashion, the models, the contestants--even the guests! The display booth has a wireless printer and a corkboard for pinning your snapshots to. For those of you who would rather keep things fun and casual, there’s a photo trail with plenty of fantastic views of the ward to take that sweet, sweet selfie in.

CANDY CAMOUFLAGE So, yeah, it looks like a typical home goods store. But don’t be deceived! Many of the objects you’d typically find in the store--furniture, pillows, curtains and more--are completely edible! Even then, the tastiest candies and chocolates are only for the bravest and most adventurous tasters. A treat can be hiding anywhere--a clothes hanger, a ball-point pen, a mannequin, the wallpaper… Just be careful not to crunch on a real object. And if you do, there’s a dentist down the street. The event resets at midnight each night and the store changes daily, so every experience is different!

THE INTRASPACE

SPIRALE DOUBLE DASH!!: PAINBOW ROAD For a limited time, kart racing is available at the Intraspace hub! Go solo or grab a friend, customize your ride, and ride like the wind! The rules are simple--complete three laps around the circuit and try to finish in 1st place. But these aren’t your ordinary courses, and things get pretty… wild. There’s no rule against sabotaging your opponents, either. So better watch out…! Don’t worry--if you completely total your kart or fall off the edge of the track, you’ll be safely transported back to the Kart Lobby to try again in another round! The better you do in races, the better you can deck out your uniforms and kart.

#spiralefes

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i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle · 4 years ago

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Chapter 23: Spirits of Apples & Pears, Part 1

By now, it was about an hour or so past noon. Everyone still in the palace has woken up, though with still 2 days until the wedding. Most are hanging out in their fancy palace rooms. Twilight & Spike ponder in which order to get the ponies they most want to get to see Pear Butter & Bright Mac get summoned for the first time.

Twilight: Hm, I could go to Applejack’s room first… but I might actually get everypony else first before seeing Applejack… how about we get the CMC first?

Spike nods, and Twilight head on over the room that the CMC got together. Each palace room bed is huge, much more then enough for 3 fillies to be on one bed but feel like they had their own space. Though they certainly weren’t sleeping, Apple Bloom and Sweetie were playing a card game together, and Scootaloo was in the room’s bathroom bathing in Seapony form.

Apple Bloom: Draw four, Sweetie Belle!

Sweetie Belle: Please… Apple Bloom. I already have so many cards! What fruit… (Please say pear, though lemon or blueberry would be alright too)

Apple Bloom: Apple!

Sweetie Belle: And… of course the one fruit card I somehow don’t have… I feel like you somehow rigged this...

Sweetie Belle finally gets an apple card from the deck and plays it. Though Apple Bloom plays an Apple 1 and then exclaims…

Apple Bloom: Fruit-O!

Indicating she’s on her last card. Sweetie Belle now having to be careful of what she plays or else Apple Bloom wins.

Sweetie: (Hm, I have a Pear 1… if her last card isn’t a pear I can change it… and just in the pear cards… I have a few skips and a draw +2 that might just buy me time to come back…)

Sweetie Belle grins as she places the Pear 1 down. But then Apple Bloom slams down her card revealing her last card was another Apple 1. Apple Bloom grinning smugly after her win.

Sweetie: OH COME ON!

Sweetie tosses all her cards in the air, and crosses her hooves whilst grumbling.

Apple Bloom: Good game, Sweetie!

Sweetie: Suuuuuureeeee….

Twilight and Spike enter at about the moment their game ended. Apple Bloom and Sweetie turning towards the door opening.

Apple Bloom: Howdy there, Twilight and Spike! Did ya’ll come t’ play Fruit-O with us?

Twilight: Sorry, we can’t right now. But maybe another time. I actually want to bring you girls back to Sweet Apple Acres for a little bit. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo don’t necessarily have to go if they don’t want to, but I do have a feeling that you… Apple Bloom… will definitely want to be there.

Apple Bloom: Huh, why me?

Twilight: *winks* It’s a surprise for you and the family. I promise you won’t want to miss this. Where is Scootaloo though?

Sweetie: She’s in the bathtub

Twilight: Ah, of course. Still enjoying her sea pony form.

Twilight heads on over to a corner where the palace room has it’s own bathroom. Knocks on the door.

Scootaloo: That you, Twilight? I could hear your voice after you entered.

Twilight: Yes, it’s me. May I come in?

Scootaloo: Sure! Go ahead!

Twilight opens the door into the palace room’s bathroom and just as she suspected Scootaloo is in her sea pony form again in the bathtub. Scootaloo looking over from the side of the tub with her front hooves hooked over the edge of the bathtub looking at Twilight with a smile as she wags her sea pony tail in the water.

Twilight: Sorry, if I interrupted any possible fun you were having in the bathtub. I did hear from Rainbow you’ve taken a lot of baths since I gave you this ability.

Scootaloo: Nah, it’s alright Twilight. It’s not necessarily about fun, it’s about trying to be in sea pony from so often that it feels as close to natural as possible when I’m older. If I’m going to be the fastest on the Waterbolts one day, I’m going to have to be swimming a lot in the coming years!

Twilight: I’ve heard! I am happy to see just how dedicated you’ve been ever since you wished for this.

Scootaloo: Yeah, I owe you so much for this, Twilight. To be honest, I feel like I’m more happy about this, then if I had wished that I could fly.

Twilight: You don’t need to owe me anything. I’m happy enough, that you’re making good use of it. Though if it’s ok, me and Spike are going back to Sweet Apple Acres for a little bit because I have something to show the Apple Family and the rest of my friends. You nor Sweetie Belle have to go with us if you don’t want to, but while Apple Bloom just has to be there. Maybe you and Sweetie would still be interested in what Apple Bloom’s gonna see.

Scootaloo: I could go see what’s going on. Judging by the fact you haven’t explicitly said what it is, I Imagine it’s something of a surprise?

Twilight: Mmhmm *nods*

Scootaloo: Alright then, I’ll drain the tub.

Scootaloo briefly dips her head underwater to bite the plug out of the drain. she jumps out of the tub, and transforms her sea pony tail back into her hind legs and pony tail. Twilight helping dry her off by levitating a towel and rubbing Scootaloo’s fur. They then walk out of the bathroom.

Twilight: Ok now, I don’t think I got an answer from Sweetie yet if you wanted to go. What do you say?

Sweetie: Yeah, I’ll go. Must be something important for Apple Bloom at the very least. I’m curious about whatever it could be.

Apple Bloom’s just kind of thinking to herself on what this could even be, it’s not like it’s her birthday or anything. So it’s not some surprise party, but clearly Twilight has some nice surprise for her and her family. But she can’t place her hoof on what exactly it is. She follows her friends, Spike, and Twilight out the door.

Twilight: Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, how about you both split it up and get Rarity and Rainbow Dash to join us. As for Apple Bloom, go see if you can get Big Mac and Sugar Belle here. Meanwhile me and Spike will get Pinkie, and then Fluttershy. Before we all gather together to get Applejack last.

The CMC nod and head on over to the rooms that Twilight told them to get to. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo quickly getting Rarity and Rainbow Dash respectively. As Apple Bloom heads on over to Big Mac’s shared room with Sugar Belle. Apple Bloom knocks on the door of the couple’s door.

Sugar Belle: Who is it?

Apple Bloom: Just me, Sugar Belle! Is mah brother in there?

Big Macntosh confirms his presence with his signature response.

Big Mac: Eyyyyuuuuuuup

Sugar Belle walks up to her door for Apple Bloom

Sugar Belle: Good afternoon, Apple Bloom! Whatcha here for?

Apple Bloom: Twilight apparently has ah surprise fo’ us and wants t’ take us back t’ Sweet Apple Acres fo’ ah little while.

Sugar Belle: I wonder what it could be, I thought we were just going to chill here for the next 2 days until the wedding… must be something important she wants to show us, if we’re going back home already. Guess we should be extra glad about those gum portals to make this easier.

Sugar Belle and Big Mac follow Apple Bloom’s lead. Meanwhile, Twilight knocks on Pinkie Pie’s door. Pinkie just runs up to the door and opens it to see who it is.

Pinkie: TWILIGHT! *She tightly hugs her* OMIGOSH! Last night was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to! And that’s saying something! All those amazing performances, got to see my whole immediate family, I got to sing, Cheese Sandwich became my special somepony, ANNNNNNNND we got to dance our hearts out! Thank you so so so so so SOOOOOOOO much to you and the royal family for setting all this up!

Twilight: I’m glad you had so much fun, and I’m really happy for you and Cheese Sandwich too! Though speaking of Cheese, where is he? I would of thought he’d have bunked with you the whole night for your first ever day as special someponies.

Pinkie: He just went to his own room, we thought about sleeping in the same room to sleep. But we decided to go to our separate rooms, even us party ponies like to have our own space sometimes. There will be plenty of time for us to be together later, anyway.

Twilight: Gotcha, well anyhow… Pinkie, I want you to come with me and Spike back to Sweet Apple Acres with the rest of our friends. I got the Cutie Mark Crusaders to get Rarity, Rainbow, Big Mac, and Sugar Belle already. Just need to get you, Fluttershy, and Applejack. Though, if I may suggest something you can do… how about you get the Cake family to come along with us too. I think at the very least Mrs. Cake should be here for what we’re doing.

Pinkie: Oh sure! I can definitely get the Cakes with us. But what exactly are you both doing?

Twilight: It’s a surprise, especially for the Apple family.

Pinkie: Ooooooh, you already know I love a good surprise! I’ll go get the Cake family right away!

Pinkie zooms out of her room and heads to the Cake Family’s room, Twilight & Spike follow suit by quickly getting Fluttershy to come with. All that’s left now is Applejack. The entire group all gather around Applejack’s door, as Twilight knocks on her door.

Applejack: Who’s there?

Twilight: It’s me who knocked… though… I also have our friends and your family right here behind me.

Applejack walks on over to the door and indeed she finds Twilight accompanied by her friends and family.

Applejack: What the hay are ya’ll doin’ gathering at mah door fo’?! It ain’t mah birthday or anything… and the wedding is still 2 days from now!

Twilight: Applejack, we’re going to take a portal back to Sweet Apple Acres for at least a little while. I have a surprise for you and everypony behind us. I promise you it will be worth it.

Applejack: Ah don’t quite understand what this could possibly even be. But ah guess ah trust ya’ll enough that ya wouldn’t do this fo’ no good reason. Ah guess everypony can come in, and we can make the portal in mah room?

Applejack walks to the very back of the room so that everyone can funnel themselves through the doorway. Twilight creates a gum portal right to the gates of Sweet Apple Acres, and everyone follows through.

((Story continues after the break))

Applejack: So… now what, Twi?

Twilight: We’re gonna go to a specific location on the farm for this. Follow me to the entwined Apple & Pear tree just between the boundaries of the Apple and Pear farms.

The Apple Family members in the group go wide-eyed. That’s a pretty sacred spot of the farm for them, they certainly are more interested then ever to see what exactly Twilight’s plan is. The whole group all walk to the pretty sight that is the two trees, one a pear tree, the other an apple tree that was planted by Applejack’s parents on their wedding day. Since their deaths, these trees forever entwined with eachother, have become a living memorial to them.

With everybody gathered in front of the entwined trees. Twilight and Spike walk out in front, turn around, and face the group as they prepare their surprise.

Applejack: Alright, Twi and Spike… What are ya’ll doin’ dragging us over here fo’?

Twilight: Let’s just say... a miracle, Applejack. But first I need you, Big Mac, and Apple Bloom to step forward, and I need you to place a hoof on Spike’s Dragon Tear. I think Mrs. Cake would also work for what we’re doing. but the tear is so small, and four hooves might be a little tough to fit. It can work with just one of you as well, but I feel this is a special moment that all of three of you should partake in.

Applejack: Um… alright?

Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac all step forward and approach Spike. Spike holds his dragon tear outward with his arms stretched forward so that all three can touch the tear. All three place the tip of their hooves on the tear.

Applejack: Now what, Twi?

Twilight: All that’s left for you to do now… is internally in your mind… say a message as if you could talk to your parents from beyond the grave…

All three go wide-eyed once again with mouth aghast.

Applejack: w…w…..w….wh..wh…wha…………….WHAT?! This ain’t some kind o’ cruel prank is it?!

Applejack pulls her hoof off the Dragon’s tear

Twilight: Applejack, this isn’t a prank. This isn’t something that I’d joke to you about. Pinkie or Rainbow Dash wouldn’t either.

Applejack: But ya’ll are telling me t’ send ah message, as if mah parents are going t’ hear it and/or respond somehow! Twilight, do ah have t’ remind ya’ll that mah parents are DEAD?! When somepony’s dead, they can’t speak, respond, or listen. Just what are ya’ll thinking trying t’ tell me and mah family otherwise?!

Twilight: Applejack… I understand that you’re hard to convince. Especially on matters like this, but I wouldn’t have set this up without promising you something will come out of it. Just listen to me, put your hoof back on the Dragon’s Tear and try to say something into Spike’s Dragon Tear

Applejack dismissivly looks to the side, away from Twilight’s gaze

Applejack: ……….Ah really don’t know if ah should

Applejack walks away and hides behind a nearby tree. Everypony else in the crowd just stands there with surprised and/or raised eyebrows at just what Twilight is suggesting is happening. Those that are rather incredulous let Applejack speak for them, others that do want to believe Twilight just stand there, covering their mouths with their hooves to anticipate something.

Twilight: Well… if you really don’t want to. I guess that’s ok… Big Mac and Apple Bloom, I plead with you to please give it a try even if Applejack remains skeptical.

Both remain quiet for a bit before Apple Bloom responds.

Apple Bloom: Ah’ll… keep my hoof on it… if what ya’ll are saying is true… we can at least somehow say something t’ them… right?

Twilight: Perhaps, I should just directly say it. Yes, Apple Bloom your parents will hear it. I’m basically risking losing my friendship with Applejack on this, she would never forgive me if I was lying about this.

Apple Bloom: Then it’s at least worth trying!

Twilight: What say you, Big Mac? Will you keep your hoof on the tear?

Big Mac’s somewhat conflicted, Applejack is too skeptical to even bother going along, whilst maybe Apple Bloom being as young as she is, she’s just maybe a little bit too optimistic and curious. Big Mac thinks for a moment before deciding. He takes a deep breath, and says a lot more quietly then usually.

Big Mac: Eyyup…

Twilight smiles

Twilight: Thank you, Big Mac.

Suddenly Mrs. Cake steps forward

Mrs. Cake: If… Applejack doesn’t want to… I’d like to try to say something in her place. Does this require 3 ponies that knew them to work?

Twilight: No, it can work with just one. But I’d be more than happy to let you say something too. Three hooves is just the maximum before there’s too many hooves because Spike needs to have a claw on it too to work.

Mrs. Cake: Well alright, I’ll go up and put my hoof on it.

Twilight: Thank you, now focus within your mind and say what you want to say within your mind.

Applejack is sitting to the side leaning behind a tree with hooves crossed, she does lean further towards the side of the tree to peek what’s happening but kind of goes back out and hiding again. Apple Bloom, Big Mac, and Mrs. Cake take deep breaths before proceeding.

Apple Bloom: (So uh… Mom? Dad? We uh… never met… Ya’ll passed only weeks after ah was born… if there’s one thing ah’d like t’ say… ah’d really like t’ see ya’ll fo’ the first time… aside from memories ah lost as ah foal… even if it’s just one time… mah family and friends like Mrs. Cake and Burnt Oak have so many stories o’ ya’ll being the sweetest ponies ever! Ah can’t stand not even havin’ ah single memory o’ ya’ll unlike everypony else in mah family! Please, if it’s at all possible fo’ ya’ll t’ show up… Ah wish ah could see ya’ll!)

Mrs. Cake: (Buttercup? This is Mrs. Cake… or well you knew me as Chiffon Swirl. You see I got married to Carrot Cake sometime after your death… I just want to say I dearly miss you, and it would be nice to somehow hear or even see you again somehow someway. I owe you so much for helping me get into baking. I have a lovely family with Carrot Cake and I even have two foals that I’d do anything for you to see them!)

Big Mac: (Ah’m… not sure if this will even work… but… Ma… Pa… ah’m going t’ at least try fo’ Apple Bloom’s sake while at the same time understanding Applejack’s skepticism. If ya’ll can actually hear us wherever ya’ll are like Twilight claims, ah hope ya’ll can forgive Applejack fo’ choosing t’ not send ah message. Ah knew ya’ll both the longest out o’ us 3… but ya’ll deaths definitely hurt her more then anypony else. She was ah wreck, the suddenness o’ it all made it hard fo’ her t’ be around the farm. It was partly why she tried t’ live in Manehattan with Aunt and Uncle Orange. Of course she realized she would miss me, Granny Smith, and lil’ Apple Bloom and came back after ah rainbow gave her ah sign t’ come back home. But she never was quite the same filly she was before ya’ll passed… and if there is ah way… Give Applejack some sort o’ sign that ya’ll are there somewhere… please… Ah miss ya’ll as much as everypony else that got t’ know ya’ll, but please do anything in ya’ll power t’ at least do something fo’ Applejack. That’s all ah’ll ask)

The three finish their thoughts, and Spike then does his role as the conduit again to send those thoughts and desires up in the sky by closing his eyes focusing while a claw is touching the Dragon’s Tear. Just like the previous two times that summoned Jennesis and then Jinn in the cave, the Dragon’s Tear on Spike’s neck starts glowing. Apple Bloom, Big Mac, and Mrs. Cake reflexively freak out putting their hoof off as they have no idea what’s happening. The rest of the group also express one big gasp. Applejack takes another peek from behind the tree she’s hiding behind, with mouth aghast.

Applejack: Just what in tarnation is happening over there?!

Applejack noticing that Twilight is looking up in the sky smiling. She tries looking to the direction Twilight is looking at, and in the distance she can see what looks like two comets coming in, approaching the very spot they’re all at. Scared that it’s actually something that will come and hit nearby, but knowing it’s probably too late to dodge a deadly shockwave. She just ducks and covers waiting for the inevitable.

But instead of an impact, these comets simply stop in front of the entwined apple and pear tree. And now there are two glowing white spheres just above the ground. The sphere on the Apple side of the border is slightly bigger then the one on the pear side of the farm. The spheres then start forming into the shapes of two ponies. The one on the apple side a big, burly, stallion similar to Big Mac’s size but also seems to have a hat. And on the pear side, a mare shape silhouette of what looks like a long curly haired mane. Their colors finally start fading in, the stallion silhouette’s coat revealed to be a light yellow, with a red mane very much like Apple Bloom’s colors. The mare’s coat being tan, with an orange mane. At this point, those familiar with what Pear Butter and Bright Mac looked like, it was unmistakably them. Though even then they’re still in the process of shock and disbelief.

The spirits are now in full appearance with transparent physical forms with a white glowing outline still indicating they weren’t alive, but Pear Butter and Bright Mac appear before the entire group with eyes still closed. They open their eyes, revealing the green and turquoise of Bright Mac’s and Pear Butter’s eyes respectively. Once they’ve fully opened their eyes, the two look at each other and move into eachother’s hooves. Twilight noting that these summoned spirits can touch other spirits, or at least maybe it works the exact same as with the living that only those that were close can touch. The couple brought back to the farm for the first time since their untimely deaths just look lovingly at each other in the eyes and Pear Butter says…

After hearing them speak, Twlight notices that the voices still somewhat echo. So it wasn’t just an effect of the cave. The voice of Spirits always have an echo to them.

The two then kiss in front of the entwined apple and pear tree. That was just about enough to convince most of the group that, yes, Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s spirits are right in front of them speaking, and probably can hear too. But before Apple Bloom, Big Mac, and Mrs. Cake can go up and approach.

Suddenly Applejack slowly walks out from where she was hiding. Walking in the slowest speed she’s ever done, eyes wide, tears streaming down, and jaw open to the lowest it can go. The Spirits of Pear Butter and Bright Mac watching their daughter slowly approach.

Applejack: Y…y…y….ya…..ya’ll… can’t be real!… this has t’ be ah dream or ah mirage! As soon as ah’m about t’ run up and hug ya, ya’ll just going t’ disappear... or end up being changelings with ah cruel prank! Maybe ah drank too much cider last night that ah forgot ah even did drink… and ah’m having hangover hallucinations…

Pear Butter and Bright Mac look at each other with concerned looks. Their daughter Applejack can’t believe they’re actually here. So Pear Butter tries talking.

Pear Butter: Applejack, dear… it’s really us, I promise… Princess Twilight’s done this two other times before us earlier today.

Applejack just stands there not knowing what to think, she recognizes the voice as her mother’s. But she still can’t find herself completely believing it.

Rarity: Twilight, is what Applejack’s mother said true?

Twilight: Yes, but mostly because I had to be fully convinced this was really happening too… Spike met his dragon birth mother as a spirit first, having unwittingly done the requirements needed to summon spirits with his Dragon’s Tear. Then Spike’s birth mother told us to summon Jinn after sending her back, we got Kubuya and Somnambula to make sure we could summon her. And Jinn explained just about everything, from how spirit summoning works, where the souls of the deceased go, what the spirits do, and more stuff that utterly blew my mind!

I’ll have to explain everything she said later, but for now. I thought it was a good idea for the first thing to do with all this newfound knowledge was to give Applejack, her family, and friends a happy reunion. I guess I should have known a little better, but I didn’t think Applejack was going to be this stubborn about this. Denying the very moment their spirits are here and speaking directly to her.

But trust me, that is really Pear Butter and Bright Mac in front of us. It’s their spirits, they can hear us, they can speak to us, and even after we send them back. We can bring them back anytime anypony of the Apple family wishes to see them again as long as Spike comes by with his Dragon’s Tear.

Applejack just stands there shaking for a few more moments until she finally cries and runs up… to a nearby apple tree. Banging her head onto it multiple times, hat falling off quickly, as the multiple impacts even manage to shake loose a few apples from the tree

Applejack: Come on, Applejack! Wake up! This ain’t real! This just can’t!

Earth pony skulls might be able to withstand more impact then either Pegasi or Unicorns. But that doesn’t mean the brain jiggling in there isn’t any less possibly moving in there. The entire group gasps in concern for Applejack.

Twilight: Applejack stop! You’re going to give yourself a concussion!

Applejack continues to bang her head until Twilight just decides to put a stop to it herself by freezing her movement. Twilight turns her around, and see her forehead is badly bruised.

Twilight: Applejack, please! This is real! You’re not going to wake up from this! It’s exactly what it seems, why won’t you trust what your eyes can clearly see? Why won’t you trust me?! I trusted you when you said I’d be ok when I was hanging from a cliff on the first day we met!

You know me, Applejack! I would of been just as skeptical before this morning if I hadn’t seen it done 3 times now!

Applejack remembers the day she told Twilight to let go, knowing that Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy would catch them.

Applejack: B…..b…..but.. knowing our friends can fly… is ah heck o’ ah lot different then actual pony spirits!

Twilight just sighs, it just seems Applejack is determined to refuse to revel in what should be one of the best days of her life. perhaps Applejack was traumatized by her parents death more then anyone realized. That she’s scared of the very moment she allows herself to think it’s real, it’ll reveal itself that it’s something her paranoid mind is telling her, it might be just to crush Applejack’s hopes.

As the standoff in trying to get Applejack convinced her parents are actually in front of her. Apple Bloom gets a determined look on her face, and approaches her parents’ spirits. Much like how she was the first to trust Zecora, even if in this case it’s only Applejack they have to convince. Perhaps if Applejack sees how the spirits react to Apple Bloom, it’ll turn her around. Pear Butter and Bright Mac look at the daughter they didn’t get to quite raise for very long and smile.

Apple Bloom: Mom? Dad? This is the first time ah’ve ever seen ya’ll… may ah… have ah hug…?

Pear Butter: Of course, Apple Bloom. You are a huge reason we’re so happy to be down here, we wanted to see our baby daughter…

Apple Bloom smiles and tears stream down her face.

Rainbow whispers to Twilight

Rainbow: Pssst, Twilight… not to ruin the moment… but isn’t Apple Bloom just going to through them...

Twilight: Actually, no. Just watch.

Apple Bloom gallops and jumps into her mother’s arms, as she cries joyous tears. Bright Mac also putting a hoof around his daughter and one behind his wife for a group hug. Rainbow surprised that the spirits can still hug, but it quickly turns into tears of happiness watching the joyful reunion like everyone else watching. between a child who never really got to see their parents for very long when they were alive.

Big Mac then follows suit approaching his father, now about the same size as each other.

Bright Mac: Mah boy… ya gotten so big… me and your mother were once afraid naming ya Big Macintosh was going t’ be ah bit presumptuous.

Big Mac himself now streaming tears, and hugs his father.

Big Mac: Ah’ve missed both o’ ya’ll so much….

Bright Mac: We missed ya’ll from where we were up there too… we never wanted t’ leave ya’ll and ya sisters as early as we did…

Then it was Mrs. Cake’s turn, she approaches Pear Butter. Tears streaming on her face seeing her best friend for the first time in years.

Mrs. Cake: Buttercup…

Pear Butter: Chiffon…

Pear Butter outstretches her right hoof as her other hoof still has Apple Bloom hugged tight. Mrs. Cake hugs her old friend, and Pear Butter has her other transparent hoof around Mrs. Cake’s Shoulder. Apple Bloom, Big Mac, their parents, and Mrs. Cake now in one big group hug together. Most of the rest of the group, express a huge d’awww and also start crying in joy in happiness for this happy reunion.

Even Applejack who’s remained skeptical of this just stares at the group hug, she bites her lip, more tears stream down her face, and she looks off to the side. A part of her is still telling her this can’t really be happening, but now that the reunion looks like its started in earnest… hope starts to take over AJ’s mind. Her hat is still off from when after she banged her head on a tree. She… then starts to walk closer to her parents again. At first, just as slowly as when he was about to accuse them of being just mirages or in a dream. But then she steadily goes a little faster, getting to her normal walking speed. In which the group hug temporarily disengages just so Applejack gets her own special hug… if at least that’s what Applejack is doing. Then Applejack starts speeding up her walking…

Until she just couldn’t take it anymore… she runs as fast as she can and exclaims…

Applejack: MAMAAAAAAAAAA! PAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

And is soon jumping into the arms of her mother, almost tackling her down to the ground. Though Bright Mac’s big body provides a cushion. And Applejack is just crying her eyes out, face deep in her mother’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. Bright Mac gets a big hoof around his older daughter’s back. And soon, Apple Bloom, Big Mac, and Mrs. Cake all join back into a group hug. Applejack finally getting a chance to smile, for her parents have not disappeared like a mirage in the desert, they weren’t changelings, nor some fancy magic hologram or special effect.

Despite being spirits, they felt just as warm to touch as when they had been alive. Applejack now knew for certain, that this was indeed them. And remembering what Twilight said earlier, this wasn’t just a one-time deal. She could see them anywhere at anytime, as long as Spike was available.

Her parents were home.

UP NEXT: Chapter 24: Spirits of Apples & Pears, Part 2

#Secrets Of The Dragon's Tear #Twilight Sparkle #Genie #Spike #Apple Bloom #Sweetie Belle #Scootaloo #Fruit-O #Sugar Belle #Big Macintosh #Pinkie Pie #Applejack #Rarity #Rainbow Dash #Mrs. Cake #Pear Butter #Bright Mac #Spirit Summoning

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capricornus-rex · 5 years ago

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The Haunt of Redemption (4)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

Chapter 4: Incoming! | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 - 2 | Previous: Chapter 3 | Next: Chapter 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

His holotable beeped, signaling an incoming message.

“Admiral?” he greeted when he answered the call.

“Sir, the transport containing the suspect has arrived. Shall I call an escort for you?”

“No need. I’ll be on my way.”

“Very good, sir. Transmission out.”

He strode through the hallways, Stormtroopers stiffened their backs until they’re erect at the presence of the Eleventh Brother, commanding officers curtly saluted when he passed them by, and he blatantly ignored the Fifth Brother and Eighth Sister in his periphery.

He arrived at the interrogation block and entered the cell where they’re keeping the captive.

It was Boss Lora.

Cal stood by the Stormtrooper and demanded the details.

“Lora Argul, proprietor of the Yewa Docking Bay & Inn,”

“And where is this docking bay located?”

The Stormtrooper glanced at his datapad, “In Hoga, sir. That’s in Cameegon,”

Cal repeated the planet’s name in a questioning tone.

“A temperate planet in the Daoro System, Jama Sector,”

“Daoro? Then it’s an Outer Rim planet,” the young Inquisitor pointed out, he stepped closer to the adult woman strapped to the interrogation machine. “Don’t bother struggling, it’s not like we’re going to set you free anytime soon.”

“Please, I don’t have anything to do with you! I’m just a business owner!”

“Oh, I know,” Cal cooed emotionlessly. “But I think you know something that I need. You might know somebody I’m looking for.”

“I don’t know anybody! My customers come and go, I only have my family!”

Lora tirelessly pleaded to Cal—it’s the same words in different order, but the same idea all in all. The young Inquisitor watched the prisoner wriggle in the torture machine, begging without a pause, until she succumbed to her tears.

Cal walked closer to Lora, a colorful woven bracelet stood out from the drab of her dark brown work clothes. He reaches for the bracelet and now his Force ability comes in play.

“Look what I made you, Mama!”

“Oh, how beautiful! Thank you, sweetheart!”

“Here, I’ll help you wear it. Do you like it?”

“I love it! I’ll always wear it so everyone can see.”

He saw the bright-eyed girl that is her daughter. The warmth of the child’s love radiated all over this woman’s being. His Psychometry allowed him to “borrow” such emotions, thoughts, and images for a period of time; he has done so to his multiple captives on their various campaigns ever since he was induced into the Inquisitorius.

Yes, he thought as he found her weakness.

“You have a very kind daughter. Kaleen, isn’t it?”

“How did you know her name?!” Lora roared.

She knew she never said anything, she only thought of her child when Cal started to enter her mind using his powers. It was something she has never seen or experienced before—and it terrified her. The wild, out-of-pace beating of her heart throbbed through her chest, any moment now she might feel it burst through.

“Oh, I should remember to apologize to your daughter personally. The little brawl in your cantina must have given her a big scare—with what her papa unconscious and her mother taken away right in front of her very eyes. Who knows what that little girl is thinking right now.”

Lora tugged herself from her restraints as far as she could until she’s eye-to-eye with Cal.

“You do so much as touch the tip of a hair strand from my daughter, I swear I will kill you!”

Cal smirked albeit concealed by his mask, satisfied that he had provoked the woman, he kept the bait hanging right in front of her until she tells him what they want to hear.

He consciously avoided the question, “You are going to tell me where you’ve seen the fugitives.”

“What fugitives?”

“You will tell me,” the smirk seemingly lost its amusement, Cal stepped closer and clutched the woman by the wrist as he demanded. “Where she is.”

At that exact moment, Lora suddenly felt like someone or something was tearing her brain open while fully conscious—the pain was excruciating, albeit the absence of the high-voltage shocks of the actual machine; Cal’s grip grew tighter, nearly barring the circulation to her hand, the next thing in Lora’s mind was you. She never intended to think or speak of you in front of this fearsome, young man—to her, it just happened.

There…! Cal celebrated sooner than he could wait.

The memory that played was your first time in the docking bay, her very first interaction with you, Lora still had that stingy tone when speaking to you. The image of you examining the ship she asked you to fix as an entrance trial and smiling back at her with a smug confidence played behind Cal’s eyes.

“Well now, I gotta say your work is impressive, kid!”

“When do I start, boss?”

There.

Your smile. Your laugh.

Even the faintest melody of your laugh came through for him.

For one, his heart skipped a beat—he saw the length of your hair has changed but your smile remained the same.

“Please…! Enough!” Lora sputtered out crying.

Cal jerked his hand away and turned around abruptly.

“Prepare my ship!” the boy Inquisitor commanded.

“Right away, sir!” a lower-ranking officer promptly replied and went ahead for the task.

“Bu-But, sir,” the admiral stuttered, hoping that it doesn’t offend the Eleventh Brother to stop him in his tracks. “What about the prisoner?”

“I leave it to you then, Admiral.”

The Eleventh Brother marched to the hangar, flanking him were two TIE pilots. Upon his arrival, the technicians have just finished recalibrating the TIE Fighters as well as his ship: a TIE Interceptor that he personally modified to his liking. The technician unclamped the docking boot of the Interceptor while his co-workers did the same for the two other Fighters.

“I want transports each carrying assault units and a squad of fighters deployed en route to Cameegon with me.”

“Yes sir, understood!” the attending officer’s heels clicked and marched to the hangar’s command center with an urgency.

The young Inquisitor climbed into the cockpit, the glass dome slid shut with the touch of a button. His fingers follow an invisible yet learned pattern of switches and buttons. There was an indescribable feeling that he cannot pinpoint with a single word, perhaps the closest being “elated.”

The TIEs’ engines hummed in a collective baritone, lights on the screen flickered to life, the ships hovered and then zoomed past the ray shield of the hangar.

—–

Meanwhile, back in Cameegon, you’ve been training in the forest for the rest of your day-off. You were out of breath, but the clean air from the trees refreshed your lungs as you inhaled and then exhaled. This expansive stretch of land has become your own haven—it’s where you mostly do your Jedi training and meditation, it took a long while for you to get used to doing them alone.

BD-1 may have kept you company while you spend your time in the woods, but it was different having someone actually with you, though you didn’t want to offend the little one so you always kept him close to you.

“Alright, BD, toss me another!”

The little white droid—perched upon a tree branch a few paces in front of you—trilled and threw the whole, rotten fruit in its claw—that you’ve installed yourself some time ago—and you went charging towards it; when the distance was enough, your heels sprang from the carpet of leaves and you somersaulted in the air, severing the target in half in the process and then landing back on the balls of your feet.

BD cheered for you in high-pitched whistles and song-like trills, followed by another string of conversational tones.

“Really? Should I have jumped a bit earlier?”

“Trill, chirp!”

“Hah, well, I really can’t tell if it’s by the second, little guy! Maybe I could borrow your scanners next time,” you joked.

The droid replied with a nervous trill, but you knew that he was only playing along.

“How’s the claw? You getting used to it or should I modify it some more?”

“Boo…” BD’s singular scope-like scanner examined the external appendage. “Woop!”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do later,”

You beckoned the little droid to come to you, it activated its little turbojets on its feet and then willingly clambered on your shoulder. You continued on with your training, cutting down the training dummies that you made out of logs and leaves—your own regimen consisted of combining new moves with learned ones, last-minute improvisations if the need arises, and inventing more styles which is a hybrid of both old and new. You liked the adrenaline pumping in you when using the environment against your “enemies.”

Afterwards, you’re traversing the terrain, knowing the twists and turns of the forest like the back of your hand—a result worth of seven months’ progress. The path that you followed was one of your personal favorites—it was still an obstacle course, but you cut through and traversed it effortlessly. You decided to banter with your little droid friend while you trekked uphill.

“Hanging in there, BD?”

“Woop! Bee-woop.”

“Oh, you think so? I sounded like him for a moment there?”

You gave a weak chuckle in response to your exploration droid’s comment. Next, it gave out a somewhat apologetic tone, to your surprise you asked him why he was sounding like that.

“No need to apologize, buddy. It’s okay, don’t worry.”

“Woo!”

“Heh, you sure perk up quick!”

You’re almost to the top. The end of the hill’s path wasn’t the real summit—at least for you. You scaled the rock face of the waterfall nearby, there were enough rocks sticking on the wall to serve as handholds and footholds. It was a quick climb to get to the top of the waterfalls, only then, you’ve really seen the true expanse of Cameegon. The sight of the lower jungle and the river delta connecting to the sea was breathtaking.

How I wish you’re here to see it. You muttered under your breath, dedicating it to Cal.

The entire view took off a heavy load from your chest. Simply look at it warranted a smile from you and a look of wonderment as if seeing it for the very first time.

“So pretty, isn’t it, BD?”

“Woo-boop!”

You patted the little droid’s head as the two of you gazed upon the majesty of the unspoiled part of the planet.

Over time, you’ve grown to love this planet because of the solitude that the trees have given you, it was your secondary comfort next to the company of your family, the Mantis crew.

Your sightseeing was disturbed when you heard machinery humming—the noise got louder by the second—and then three black ships come speeding past your view. Your eyebrows furrowed, something about them tells you that this is not your regular merchant convoy.

Their flight direction came from the east and they’re heading westward. Your eyes squinted in suspicion—you peered through your binoculars, zooming in by turning the knob resting by your thumb, until you got a better look of the silhouettes. Your lips parted open.

“Oh no…” you shuddered.

Without a second’s notice, you kicked the coil of rope sitting by the edge of the waterfall and rappelled down. You started bolting through the path in the forest, while running you try to reach Cere’s signal from the Mantis—but the wildlife was so dense that it interfered with the clarity of the signal.

“Cere! Can you hear me?! Cere, come in!”

A garbled radio frequency was your only response, but your feet kept running—it’s as if it was moving on its own—and made your way back to the ship.

The thought of the settlement suddenly entered your mind, but logically, the town is much farther from your training course in the forest—you’ll never make it in time even if you drive with your speeder’s top speed. In the middle of your combined panic and contemplation, you stumbled upon a detour and realized it too late.

You look around and find that there are no familiar landmarks around the area.

You’re lost and alone among the trees, accompanied by the chittering of unseen animals, and the apparent presence of the Empire… or the Inquisitors.

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writing-the-end · 5 years ago

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Exodus- Part 2

Previous Part

An Edolas Hermit AU story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Impulse, Tango, and Zed are vying for freedom out of Hermitland. But first they must get through the great walls of the city, and whatever waits beyond. What they don’t know is that their plan has already been discovered.

----------------------------

Part Two? Part Two! I’m so glad people are enjoying this story, I just can’t wait to share it all with you! Red’s story is so incredible, I don’t think my writing can do it justice.

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language

_______________________

Impulse grabs the nearest thing he could find, a redstone torch, wielding it as he hears footsteps moving down the tunnels. Zed and Tango have been taking way too long. Surely they’ve been caught by Cub, seen leaving the underground. By now, they’re probably in the rehab center, undergoing the same horrible ‘therapy’ that he had to endure. And now? Now Xisuma has sent guards to retrieve Impulse. Or perhaps just to take him out for good.

So when the two figures round the corner into the team’s hideaway, he swings the torch with all his might. He’s not exactly strong, though, which is why Tango easily grabs hold of the other end, ignoring the electrifying feeling of holding the redstone end of the torch. This isn’t the first time Impulse has freaked himself out to the point of becoming reactionary. “Guess that means you don’t want what we brought you then.”

Impulse immediately lets go of the torch, relief spreading across his face and body as he sees the cool smile of Tango, the bouncy joy of Zed. They haven’t been captured, they look just fine. “I’m just glad you’re back. How was it above?”

“We went to your apartment!” Zed pulls something out of his bag, holding it out for Impulse to see. At first, Impulse has to rub his eyes, just to be sure he’s seeing what is in Zed’s hand. His fingertips are just barely able to curl around the brass wall, the moon beginning to rise towards its peak. Almost midnight. The redstone clockwork is shoddy at best, the gears and lines easy to hear within the device. But for Impulse, it’s his most prized possession.

He built this clock when he decided he wanted to be a redstone engineer. It was his first time using redstone, or any of that sort of material. It sparked his love for inventing, and put him on the path to the man he is now. It’s the start of everything.

And to have it now, that Tango and Zed thought to get the clock from his apartment, makes tears well in his eyes. It hurts to gulp, but he tries his best to keep from whimpering like a baby at the thought. “Th-thank you guys.”

“They ransacked your house. Completely torn apart.” Tango whispers, picking up the mess that Impulse had left behind while they were gone. “But luckily it only got dented. Young Impulse was thinking to use brass instead of the usual gold.”

“Young Impulse definitely didn’t have access to gold. I don’t think current Impulse does either.” He laughs awkwardly, running his finger over the dial on the clock. Xisuma’s guards must’ve been looking for information, evidence against Impulse and the underground. He knows they found nothing. He’s smarter than that. The clock ticks under Impulse’s touch, the moon drawing nearer to its apogee. They need to leave before sunrise. “Where you guys followed?”

“We were fine. Not a soul saw us.” Zed waves off Impulse’s concern, playing catch with an apple then taking a hefty bite from the fruit.

“Are you sure? They have eyes everywhere, Cub could’ve seen you. He could’ve followed you.” Impulse glances around, as if someone else could suddenly appear in the cave they call their hideout.

“We were careful.” Tango nods, pulling up his multitool. The same tool that sent the coding to cut Impulse’s noose. “I used the jamming signal you came up with to keep drones from coming near us.”

Impulse breathes a sigh of relief. He knows that signal works, so he knows his friends are right. They weren’t followed. “Then let's get going. Before someone does start to follow us.”

“Let’s blow this popstand!” Zed cheers, shoving the apple into his mouth and shrugging his backpack over his shoulder. He bounces in his shoes, blonde hair curling and bouncing across his eyes. “Come on come on come on! No time to waste! The next time we see the sun, it’ll be with the sweet taste of freedom!”

Tango and Impulse can’t help but smile, Zed’s enthusiasm contagious. They can hear him humming down the tunnels, footsteps skipping and echoing down the road. Tango ruffles Impulse’s hair, forcing his cowlick over his eyes and making it almost impossible to see. When he parts the unruly chocolate hair, Tango is giving him a coy wink. “Last one to the safehouse is a sticky piston!”

Tango takes off, gilded hair wisping across the horns. Impulse chases after him, grabbing the small bag of his own supplies and stumbling out of their cave. He chases after Zed and Tango, laughing as Zed trips in between skips. He never stops humming, even as he nearly faceplants into the cracked concrete. Tango hardly stops, long lanky legs eloping by and picking Zed up by the scruff like a kitten. Tango was so much taller than others, stood out so much more than any other person in Hermitland. It’s what made him different, it’s what made him awesome. When other people would be nervous with a demon from the nether sitting next to them in class, it was Impulse’s favorite thing. No one dared pick on him and his threadbare clothes at school when Tango’s red eyes would glare them away, his tail flicking menacingly.

Zed scrabbles up the ladder, into the cool midnight air. The trio can see the wall as they sneak free of the forgotten tunnels, closing the trapdoor hidden beneath a massive, leafy bush. Tango remembers to brush a branch over the mulch, scrambling the chips to clear off the disturbance of the three climbing out.

The lights of this street have been broken for years, always put to the wayside of maintenance logs in lieu of work for the more affluent neighborhoods. But the people who have claimed this part of the city as home, the farmers and hard working families find joy in the darkness. The freedom that Zed, Tango, and Impulse feel to walk down the streets. Zed and Tango dance and chase after one another, blowing off the steam of excitement. They’re finally escaping.

But for Impulse, it’s his first time above ground since he was hanged. He’s slower than the others, taking in each deep breath of the cool night air. Fresh, crisp, of the city taking a quiet sigh of relief from the hassle of the day. The moon is in gibbous, nearly full and gazing a single eye down at the world. Stars glitter and shine across the canvas of the night sky. Moonlight wasn’t harsh like the sun. It didn’t burn or scathe against skin the way that electric shocks ran across Impulse’s skin, it didn’t blind him like the harsh lights when he was interrogated. It was a nurturing light, relief from the scathing truth of the day.

Impulse closes his eyes, stretching his arms out and feeling the night air surrounding him. Lies spoken in the day, illusions under the sun become shadows in the night, transparent and weak. The quiet hush of the night is when truths are whispered, when reasonable voices are able to be heard while the shouting crowd is fast asleep. Impulse always got his best work done at night. Impulse learned the truth at night.

In the darkness of the night, none of them notice the stealthy drone zooming it’s lense in on the basking boy. They don’t see the antenna rise up, pointing towards Bastion Towers.

“Come on, mate! You can take a deep breath once we’re beyond the wall!” Zed whispers in Impulse’s ear, tugging him down the silent, open road. All the way to the safehouse. A decrepit little shack, nondescript at best. Even when they enter the toolshed, nothing looks out of the ordinary. Not until Zed picks up a wooden hoe from the racks of stone and iron tools. Beneath their feet, the wood floor slips away to reveal a small tunnel. The boys hop in, dirt falling into their hair as they crawl through the low tunnel. Crawling through the tight quarters, trying not to bump into each other or the wall. Tango has it worst, his horns digging into the tunnel’s soil roof each time he leans back.

They reach the wall, gazing at all their hard work. The wall wasn’t pure concrete, and with each stratified layer they picked away, they had to figure out a whole different solution to a whole new problem. They picked away at thick concrete, filed down metal rebar, rerouted electrical currents, disarmed alarms, even cut through a whole sheet of metal that sat at the center of the wall. All that, until they reached the other side. Right in front of Impulse, they only needed to dig out a few more shovels full of dirt. Unfortunately, freedom was put on hold when Impulse was captured.

But now, the boys can finally pick away the last of what separates them from freedom. To finally be able to escape the city, to finally have done what no one else thought was possible. Zed and Tango squeeze on each side of Impulse, pulling the spades they have handy. And together, the three dig the dirt away. Dirt falls and is flung over their shoulders, getting between their teeth and onto their white shirts. But none of them care.

Especially when Zed’s shovel breaks through grass, digging through the roots and pushing into open air. When he pulls it back, the ground crumbles around it.

They can see the moon on the other side. Unobstructed, save for a distant birch forest across the plains. No buildings, no walls, no streetlights or drones or guards. But there is life. Grass spreads out in all directions, a sea of green visible in the burrow the boys have dug out. Flowers dance quietly in the moonlight, brushed by wind that carries wayward leaves from far away trees. Tango was the first to find his voice. “It’s all real. We did it.”

Impulse’s mind is tethered to the freedom before him, but gets dragged back to the dystopia behind him when he hears the sound of a door slam. Wooden, hitting something so hard that the lumber cracks and the hinges snap. His stomach and throat tighten up as the sound recalls a not too distant memory. The memory of his door being kicked open, armed guards breaking down his entrance to hunt him down. The sound of footsteps in his mind echoes the footsteps he hears at the entrance to their tunnel.

The hatch at the other end is opened. “They found us! They're here!”

“We have to go through now!” Zed keeps digging, trying to open the tunnel. It’s hardly even big enough for one person.

“We have to use the other tunnel! We’re not going to make it through in time. Not all of us.” Tango points down the even smaller crawl space that they built. It was something none of them thought they’d have to use, but Impulse was insistent on. For a case just like this.

Zed can hear voices, arguing down the dark tunnel. “Impulse can’t stay here. He can’t stay in the city- he’ll surely get captured sooner or later.”

Zed and Tango both turn, gazing at Impulse with resolute but despondent eyes. A look that sends chills down his spine and fear through his heart. “What are you two-”

“Come out now before things get grim. I know you're down there. Impulse, I saw you finally came out of your little hole.” A steady, calm voice hollers down the hall. Cub was here.

Tango and Zed share a glimpse of each other’s plans within their eyes, and turn to Impulse. Simultaneously, they scoot back. Put distance between themselves and Impulse. Tears begin to form at the corner of both their eyes, and Zed’s lip quivers as Tango picks up his shovel. “We’ll see you on the other side, Impulse.”

Horrible realization shocks through Impulse. He reaches out for his friends, for them to rethink this decision. But Tango has already struck the dirt above them, yanking it free. Soil collapses between them, and rocks fall soon after. Impulse scrambles back, his arm nearly crushed as the stones fall in. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tears hit his hand. He scrabbles against the rocks, digging through the cave in. “No! No, you guys can make it! Don’t leave me!”

No answer on the other end. Impulse strains to listen. He can hear Zed and Tango retreat, the slow creak of the escape tunnel closing in. They’re already gone, disappearing into the crowd of people. Back into the depths of the city.

But Cub remains. Impulse scurries back as the calm voice speaks through the rocks. “It’s only going to get worse from here, man. We know your every move. We will find you.”

Panicked breathes escape Impulse’s open lips, his mind a flurry of just about every emotion he can feel. He has to put distance between him and Cub. He needs to run.

And so he does. Impulse squeezes through the dirt hole, ignoring the grass and mud stains that smear across the white shirt he wears. The ID tag on his arm begins to warm, but he ignores it as he slips into the open field. Impulse clambers to his feet, stumbling into a sprint before he’s even upright.

But the quiet field isn’t quiet for long. Beneath the red poppies and yellow dandelions, traps have laid in wait. Buried long ago, waiting for the day a foolish hermit decided to try and escape. Impulse vaults free of a snare as it releases, nearly grabbing hold of his leg. A net flings from a buried gun, threatening to weigh Impulse down.

If the trapped field wasn’t enough, Impulse hears something rise up from the massive blank concrete wall. He knows he shouldn’t look back, but he can’t help his own morbid curiosity. He peeks over his shoulder, and sees something he never even thought existed within Hermitland.

A door to outside. The concrete walls open up just enough for a black vehicle to slip through. It’s not just Cub that’s after Impulse- Doc stands in the bed of the vehicle, a thin barrel pointed at Impulse.

Impulse doesn’t stop running. He can’t outrun Cub or Doc, but he can outmaneuver them. The weapon fires, a dart filled with sloshing liquid burying itself into the ground next to Impulse. It’s not a bullet, thank god, but Impulse knows that if Doc is involved it’s something much worse. The escapee skids to the side, forcing the black vehicle to change direction as he focuses on his goal.

A forest, just beyond the edge of the plain. Tall, thick birch trees that will be the guardians against the attacking leaders. Barriers for those who wish to keep Impulse from escaping. The hair on Impulse’s head sticks out in all directions, his body electrified as a shock shell detonates beside Impulse. The zapping sound of electricity makes him run all the harder. Flee from what he knows is already awaiting him if Doc gets his hands on Impulse...again.

Impulse meets the treeline, but he doesn’t stop. When he hears the vehicle screech to a halt, he doesn’t stop. When he hears Doc and Cub yelling, swearing and arguing, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop running until the sound, the sight of the city are long gone. Until his legs give out from under him, and all the emotions spread ruin within him.

They’re gone. Zed and Tango, they gave up their freedom for him. Forced him to leave them. He’s alone, lost beyond the wall. Everything he’s ever known is now behind him. His entire life, his entire world. Every person he’s ever known, ever seen.

He’s alone. Lost, on the run. And without the only people he wanted to do this with.

#hermitcraft impulse #edolas hermits #edolas impulse #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft tango #hermitcraft zedaph #hermitcraft cub #impulsesv #cubfan135 #tangotek #zedaph #edolas au #dystopia au #dystopia hermits

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we-are-only-halfway-home93 · 5 years ago

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Come and Lay the Roses 20- It’s Like the Sun Came Out- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline and Ivar go on a date. Feelings are revealed.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: arrange marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 19

Word Count: 2688

Author’s Note: Okay, a couple things. First, I had a lot of trouble finishing this chapter and I’m not 100% happy with it. I hit writer's block a couple times which made it hard for me to get the last few pieces done. I’ve been on spring break this last week and with the quarantine, I’m going to have nothing but time on my hands so I figured I’d try. Second, I used Google Translate for the translations. I tried to use other sites but I couldn’t get anything to pull up when I typed in my translation. Forgive me if anything is incorrect.

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”

~John Green, “The Fault in Our Stars”

Aaline examined her reflection in the mirror. There was a glow surrounding her that she wasn’t used to. She looked brighter. Happier. She couldn’t remember the last time she was happy. Truly happy. Ivar had taken her on three dates in two weeks. For their first date, Ivar took her on a mid-afternoon picnic. He’d stopped by her room around two and they’d walked out together. They didn’t take a car. Ivar said the park was only a couple of blocks away. When she expressed concern for his hips, he only smiled and took her hand.

Ivar had clearly not packed the picnic basket himself but someone had taken care in their lunch. There was a mix of cheeses with crackers and fruits. Mixed vegetables and the option of red or white wine. Ivar favored the red while Aaline took to the white. They sat and talked, watching the sun slowly sink below the trees and turn the city orange.

Once the streetlights came on, Ivar stood and held his hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to lead her back to the house. She thanked him when he walked her up to her door. She complimented his idea and nearly laughed at the blush that arose on his cheeks. He admitted then that it had been Sibylle’s idea but he appreciated the praise. She leaned into him to kiss him but he turned his head, letting her brush his cheek.

When she pulled back, she was confused. He’d smiled and cupped her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. “Allow me to do this right, min kjærlighet.” He lifted his hands from her face and turned and walked away.

She had tried to kiss him later that week when he took her on their second date. They went to the movies and saw some action flick that only mildly held her interest. Ivar had gotten a large popcorn for them to share and two large drinks. He’d held her hand the whole time and when she tried to kiss him after he’d walked her to her room, he dodged her again.

He’d only smiled at her slightly pissed off look and pressed his lips softly to her forehead. She tried to act like forehead kisses didn’t make her insides melt but she didn’t think she did a good job when he winked at her as he retreated down the hall.

Their third date was earlier that week and she had been pleasantly surprised when Ivar took her to a dance hall. It looked like something straight out of the ’40s with tables curved around the dance floor and a big brass band on the stage playing upbeat rhythms.

They had been escorted to a booth in the back that had a VIP sign posted on top. The waiter brought a bucket of ice with champagne inside and two flutes. The menu had been impeccable with varying types of food readily available. Aaline had gorged herself on lobster and crème brûlée. The champagne made her head a little fuzzy but she made sure to only have enough to relax.

After dessert, Ivar pulled her out onto the dance floor and swung her around like she weighed next to nothing. She briefly wondered about Ivar’s hips but he always spun her around before she could spend too much time thinking about it.

They danced for what felt like hours, swinging around the dance floor in sweeping arches. Her dress had whipped around her in a frenzy. Once she and Ivar had taken their seats again she’d been giddy with excitement. Her blood rushed through her veins faster than it had in years.

It wasn’t until she was lying in bed staring up at her ceiling that she realized her face ached from all the smiling she’d been doing. She fell asleep with it still aching.

Today was Thursday and Ivar was taking her on their fourth date. She was excited. It had been a while since she’d been excited about anything but she was excited about Ivar.

She stopped applying her makeup and just stared at herself. She took careful stock of how she was feeling. Her stomach was in knots, the kind that made her heart race and her lips curve up into a soft smile. She was flushed, her cheeks and chest a faint pink that reached up to her neck and below the line of her sweetheart dress.

She jumped when a sharp knock came to her door. She took a deep breath, ran her eyes over her reflection one last time and stood.

She opened the door and was breathless. Ivar stood before her in crisp black jeans and sturdy black boots. A black v-neck sweater stretched across his chest and made his shoulders look thick and strong.

The hollow of his throat was nestled flush against the V of the fabric at his throat. She wanted to lick the tendons at his throat and make him quiver. She felt an overwhelming sense of longing rush through her core and she blushed. Ivar cleared his throat and turned to the side, sweeping his arm out and waiting.

She sighed and smiled up at him, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

She felt him descending the stairs behind her and forced herself not to turn. She could feel his eyes on her back like the heat of the noon sun, heat scorching her back and burning into her flesh. She let him move around her and open the front door.

She stepped out onto the front step and froze.

Sitting pretty in the circle drive was a sleek, black motorcycle sparkling beneath the lights of the house. The bike itself was black with blue stripes down the sides. Two helmets rested on the backend.

She felt a warm hand at her back between her shoulder blades and turned to her husband. His face was blank but she could read the question in them.

“You have a motorcycle?” She asked. Her voice was whisper soft and she cleared her throat. He glanced from her to the bike and back again.

“Will you ride with me?” He asked. She could hear the hesitancy in his voice and the sudden urge to quell that fear swelled inside her until she felt like she was drowning. She nodded jerkily and he smiled.

She let him lead her down the steps and towards the machine, her knees feeling suddenly weak. Ivar took the smaller of the two helmets and faced her, holding it between them. She took it in careful hands and settled it atop her head. She pushed stray strands of hair away from her face. Ivar placed both hands on either side of the helmet and made sure it was tight.

He took her hands and urged her onto the bike. She had never been more grateful for jeans than she was at that moment. She settled astride the bike and sat up straight waiting for Ivar to follow. He put his own helmet on before swinging a leg over the massive machine and setting it straight.

He released the kickstand and turned his head. “Wrap your arms around me.” His voice was slightly muffled but she heard him. She wrapped her arms around his waist close to his hips. She locked her left hand around her right wrist and felt him chuckle.

“Tighter, min kjærlighet.” She shivered. She didn’t know what it meant but it sent shivers down her spine and heat straight to her center whenever he said it.

She tightened her hold and felt him chuckle again. She felt the beast come to life beneath her and pressed closer to Ivar’s back. She felt him press back into her before they were off.

She wasn’t sure if she screamed or not but she didn’t much care.

She had never felt both fear and exhilaration quite like this before. She felt like she was flying, zooming through the air with nothing holding her back. She felt weightless. The only thing she could really compare it to was the sudden weightlessness she felt at the top of a rollercoaster just before it dropped down.

She lifted her head and watched the city speed past them, lights streaking by in a flurry of motion. Ivar never slowed enough for her to truly see where they were going.

After a time, Ivar stopped and she looked up. They were sitting right outside what looked like a park. The path was illuminated with rustic lamp posts and fireflies. Trees lined the path at evenly spaced intervals, disappearing behind the back end of the trail beyond Aaline’s line of vision. Benches sat situated sporadically along the trail, a few stray park goers resting on the benches before they made their way home.

Ivar settled the bike close to the curb and swung off the seat, pulling his helmet off. Aaline took off her helmet before getting off the bike. She glanced at Ivar and smiled at the hand he held out towards her. She took it and let him lead her away from the curb and into the park.

His fingers were warm around hers and she could feel that heat spreading from her fingers up her arm and to the center of her chest. He radiated warmth and she fought off the memories of him in bed with her. His warmth seeped between the sheets and made her feel safe and at peace. She couldn’t remember a time when she had ever felt like that.

Ivar took her down the well-worn path through the park. The sun was setting but the sky was still light enough for them to see by.

Their hands swung lightly between them as they walked. Their pace was unhurried as they made their way around the trail.

“What else did you have in mind tonight, Ivar?” She finally asked. Ivar turned to look at her and offered her a soft smile.

“I was going to take you to dinner. There’s this little Italian place on the other side of the park. I figured we’d take a walk there and then take a walk back. It’s a nice night for it.” He squeezed her fingers and she grinned at him, the warmth settling low in her belly.

“That sounds wonderful.” She whispered.

Ivar nodded and looked away, a soft blush coloring his cheeks. She looked up at the sky and marveled at the rainbow of colors as the sun sank below the cityscape. “I figured,” She turned when Ivar began speaking.

“Since we didn’t do things the traditional way, I thought it would be nice to go on some traditional dates. Make it easier for us to get to know each other.” He shrugged and looked down, unwilling to meet her eyes. The smile on her face was tender and understanding. She wrapped her free hand around Ivar’s arm and squeezed his hand. He looked down at her.

“What a wonderful idea.” Her voice was soft. The smile that decorated Ivar’s face was self-conscious but thankful. He squeezed back and they continued on their way.

She had never been in love. She wasn’t sure what it felt like. If love gave you butterflies and made your cheeks turn pink then she was fairly certain she had it. She couldn’t explain her reactions otherwise. She was in love with Ivar.

Saying it, even just in her head, made her stiffen. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in love. It hadn’t ended well for her father. She didn’t fare very well because of it either. After all, she had been shipped off to every boarding school in Europe because of her father’s broken heart.

Ragnar had been in love with Lagertha and they didn’t stay together. She was certain that Ragnar and Lagertha still loved each other but they kept their relationship strictly professional. Björn loved Torvi and they seemed okay. They had two children together and still seemed very much into each other.

Ubbe had married Margrethe so he must love her, right? Aaline wasn’t so sure. Ubbe always looked put out having to deal with Margrethe and she only seemed concerned with where her next drink would come from.

Hvitserk and Thora spoke for themselves.

Aaline wasn’t sure how Sibylle could love Sigurd. He was always so cruel when Ivar was around and he pretty much ignored Aaline altogether. But Sibylle was adamant that he wasn’t always like that. She said it came from his resentment towards his mother favoring Ivar as a child. Aaline tried to understand but, being an only child, it was hard.

“Aaline?” She startled when Torvi called her name. She was sitting in her office with Torvi, Thora, and Sibylle. They had been discussing their upcoming charity banquet. Torvi wanted to hash out the numbers for spending and Sibylle wanted to finalize the guest list. Aaline couldn’t remember when she had stopped listening but clearly, the other women had noticed.

“Where is your head? You’ve been staring off into space for a good five minutes now. Is everything alright?” Thora asked. Aaline cleared her throat and looked away, blushing.

“I’m sorry. Where were we?” She adjusted in her seat and pulled her files closer to her.

“No, no, no, you’re blushing. Why are you blushing?” Sibylle cut in, her smile wide enough to wrinkle her eyes. Aaline sighed and sat back, settling her hands flat on the table.

“Nothing. It’s fine.” She heaved. Torvi and Thora shared glances and Sibylle snickered.

“It’s clearly not fine. You’ve hardly been able to concentrate since we stepped foot inside your office. What is it that’s bothering you?” Thora probed. Aaline shook her head and crossed her arms.

She looked at each woman individually, calculating if they would be willing to let it go. When she realized they weren’t going to let it go, she sighed and uncrossed her arms. “Love.”

All three women exchanged looks of confusion. Sibylle sat forward and place a hand on top of Aaline’s. “Love like, the word or were you speaking more dtowards the...the feeling?” She asked. Aaline pulled her hand out from beneath Sibylle’s and licked her lips.

“The feeling.” She clarified.

Torvi sucked in a long breath. “Towards a...person or just...in general?”

Aaline huffed and stood up abruptly. “I think I’m in love with Ivar.” She said. The women were silent behind her. When she turned to face them, she wasn’t surprised to see genuine shock and dismay on their faces.

“Wait, Ivar, did you just say you love Aaline?” Ivar glanced over at Hvitserk and huffed.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what I said.” He and Ubbe and Hvitserk were on their way to the docks to finalize business with some of the workers. Word had gotten to Ragnar that some of the men were unhappy with their wages and were threatening a strike. Ragnar decided to send the three of them to discuss terms and find a compromise.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word come out of your mouth, not even about mother.” Ubbe chortled. Ivar scowled and hastened his pace. Hvitserk and Ubbe had to jog to keep up with him.

“We’re not making fun of you, Ivar. It’s just surprising, that’s all.” Ubbe said. Ivar stuffed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, slowing his pace.

“I’m trying, alright? You told me to fix it so I am.” He defended. Hvitserk and Ubbe shared a look before Hvitserk cleared his throat. “We did, say that I mean. You’re right and, you know what,” He wrapped an arm around Ivar’s shoulders who tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug him off. “This is good.” Ivar glanced at Hvitserk.

“What?” Ubbe asked.

“What? Men are supposed to love their wives, Ubbe. Ivar loving his wife can only be a good thing.” Hvitserk slapped Ivar’s shoulder and they continued on down the dock.

Tags: @dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal12810 @khiraeth @didiintheblog

#ivar x oc #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #bjorn x torvi #Bjorn Ironside #hvitserk x thora #hvitserk lothbrok #sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd x oc #ubbe x margrethe #lagertha #Ragnar Lothbrok #vikings #modern au #mafia au #Crime #arranged marriage

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bolbianddolanhouse · 4 years ago

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BNHA self insert AU [Book 3]

New? Read here! Then here!

Part 1 - Part 2

Chapter 10.75: It’s Vinegar- Wha?- It’s Vinegar, Pussy

I’ve been taking notice of the servants, they all have distinct features and some of them seem to serve a particular family member when they come around. Which leads me to think that this servant that took the picture probably knows the most about the house. From what I remember from the hologram, this servant is male presenting with light skin, sun spots, salt and pepper hair with a very pronounced nose. Problem is, I haven’t seen him.

I had some afternoon tea by myself in the parlor as uncle Tensei did some calls to our extended family. Usually I hate having tea time, because it makes me feel like a pompous piece of shit rich boy and I prefer coffee anyways. But I took the tea this time to observe the servants. I learned that they all gather in the kitchen at 8pm to gossip before the non-live in servants have to leave for the day. So I snuck down to the kitchen to listen in.

“...Can you believe I served afternoon tea again! Ugh, when will I forget he’s dead now?!”

“I saw, nice save that you served it to Iwata-chan.”

“Man that kid beefed up! He used to be so timid and never show his power. But I saw the way he levitated those antiques with ease, kid is like his mother.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see more of the family now that he’s dead?! The mother is just so pleasant to be around.”

“Too bad Thad-kun won’t be here to see them spend more time at the estate. He loved Itati-sama and Tenya-sama.”

I peeked my head in “Who’s Thad-kun?”

The staff yelped and jumped at my sudden appearance.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” I bowed in forgiveness “But I couldn’t help but to overhear that there’s a servant that isn’t here anymore?”

“Yes, Thaddeus was one of the oldest servants here” spoke one of the female servants “he was the previous head of estate’s favorite servant, from Thad’s record, he was about 20 when the previous head of estate inherited the estate. Since then, Thad was in service of him and only him.”

“Yea, Thad-kun passed two years ago of the flu in his private quarters” spoke one of the chefs “Poor man didn’t have any family or children, just spent his whole life serving the Iida family. But he adored all the family that married in and the children, he took pictures of all the children when they’re newborns and puts them in this scrapbook.”

“Oh yea the scrapbook! Pretty sure it’s in the parlor bookcase” chimed in a younger servant “We hid it from the old head of estate, we were scared that he might destroy it or something. Anything to preserve the memory of our friend.”

“Yup, all of us feared that old man. But Thad-kun knew how to calm him and never missed a single tea time” said the chef “We have his journal in the parlor book case as well. There’s notes on what that old man liked in case he wasn’t around to serve him and we dip into it when anything comes up.”

“Hmm, I just might crack into them” I pondered “Thank you for sharing! Sorry for interrupting again, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Any time Iwata-chan!” said all the staff as they waved bye to me.

I float my way to the parlor, trying to not make noise to catch the attention of my uncle or the other servants that have night duties. I search through the books to find an old green leather photo album and a worn black journal. I took the books to my room to look them over, the album had so many pictures of couples and babies with their names neatly written underneath the photo. It was so organized that I could trace back to who was my great-grand father! Apparently I came from a side branch family and that theres 4 branch families and one main, but the main family didn’t marry and had children to maintain lineage. So great grand uncle was the last one of the main family. I only know of one other branch family, the other two are a mystery to me. Getting to the end of the album, I put it to the side and opened up the journal. I get to an interesting part that reads:

March 14th,

I helped Iida-sama take down portraits in the Lineage Hall. He’s asked me to burn them but I don’t have the heart to do so. When he left for work, I hid them in the West wing linens closet. I can only hope he will forgive me someday. Erasing these people and only keeping the heroes this family is the work of a tyrant! Mothers, daughters and non-engine sons are to be celebrated with their hero relatives. May the next heir see the light and I’ll unearth the family hidden history.

The west wing linens closet?! Such a place exists?

-The next day-

“Tio, what’s the agenda for today?” I asked after breakfast.

“Today I’m going to check in with the agency on the phone” responded Uncle Tensei “then talk to the gardeners, then we plan for a welcome ball.”

“Oh uhhhhh can any of those things wait until tomorrow?” I got timid over the full schedule of things “because I found an important clue regarding the portraits.”

Uncle Tensei looked at me with intensity “The agency can wait, show me what you found.”

I showed them the journal entry “...so do you know wheres that linens closet?”

“Hmmm the West wing is used to store the decorative pieces of the estate for Balls or other events” pondered Tensei “Nobody in the family would think of finding something that important there since it’s a servant accessible area...”

We looked at each other and activated our arm engines to zip to the west wing. It was like we shared the singular brain cell at that moment and it was telling us to stop being civil and zoom. And sure enough, there was the portraits! Still in excellent condition and in their original frames. There were some without frames and they were portraits of the women that married in the family in the recent decades, the most recent one was of my mom. I looked at the portrait and was stunted by the artist’s capture of her natural beauty. The way they painted the flower crown and her curls, the exact shade of medium tan skin, the detail of the rebozo on her shoulders and the crisp white of the traditional dress. She was so young in this portrait and it made me wonder when this was taken.

“Oh my I remember when this one was painted” chuckled Uncle Tensei as he caught me gawking at the painting “Your dad had this arranged for your mom’s 24th birthday, months before they got married. These are usually done with traditional wear and since your mom isn’t Japanese, she showed up in that dress and shawl. All the women in the family were fawning over how beautiful her traditional dress was. The artist was so inspired by the flowers in her hair that he had he pose in the garden, making her portrait the only one painted in an outside setting.”

“Wow, she had that type of power over others huh?” I said in awe.

“She didn’t want to at first but the family painter convinced her that she was already the first ethnic woman to marry into the family, may as well make the portrait as unique as possible” a frown slowly crept onto his face “But then great grand uncle wanted the portrait scraped because she wasn’t in kimono and that she looked unkept with her down down and no makeup. Honestly, I feel like he didn’t want Tenya to marry her because of her ethnicity but turned a blind eye on that because she was a CEO and wanted to asset the company. Your dad had this whole plan to make a garden for your mother to frolic in when he gets the estate, with lots of flowers and fruit trees OH and the lily pond! It was going to take up like half of that empty lawn space in the middle.”

I looked at the portrait “So much fuss over this woman.”

“But she was worth it. Look at all the things she contributed to the family!” He started to describe “She doesn’t see it but she’s a blessing to us. We needed someone outspoken and bold to challenge great grand uncle’s tyrannic ways.”

That stayed with me for the rest of my time at the estate. I didn’t know what to think of my mom anymore, yes she’s amazing but she kept an important part of history from me and who know who else?! Finally, after 6 days of tolerating it, I was able to go home! And just in time! It’s the day before Christmas Eve and Lili is flying in today.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” asked Uncle Tensei as I take my bags to the front door “I don’t have any business to attend to today.”

“Naw Tio, I’m good” I sigh tiredly “I’m just a little sick of spending time together like this, as much as I love you as my uncle” I float my bags “I just wanna go home on my own and reflect on things.”

“I understand, every young man needs their time alone” Tensei smiled warmly “Have a safe journey home, see you in a few days.”

I wave good bye “Bye bye tio!” I turn my head to the servants that gathered around “Bye bye everyone else! Thank you for helping me find the critical clue in the portrait mystery!”

Everyone bid me good bye and safe travel until I was out of sight. From there I took a short train trip and two buses home, picking up a few interesting things along the way that I could gift. In total, it took about 3 hours to get home. Whole time I was just thinking of the ways I was going to confront mom about what I learned. The ways I could say how I feel, the ways she might react...I don’t know what to expect! And I’m super nervous. I stood at the front door for maybe 5 minutes because of how nervous I was! Finally mustering the courage to open the door with my eyes closed, the air of baked goods hit me first.

“I’m home” I announced myself, holding my breath to whoever answers.

“Iwata, you’re home” yipped the robo dog as it trots into view “Did you know it’s been 222 days since you’ve last been home?! I missed you very much and so has everyone else.”

I bent down to pet them “Has it? It feels longer than that” I booped their nose “I missed you too boy.”

“Mom is in the kitchen, Dad is picking up Lili at the airport, Hanaka is at her friend’s house and Tensei is practicing with their group” listed the robo “Everyone should be home before 7pm for dinner...it is now half past 4.”

I look at the clock thats mounted at the entrance to confirm the time, then looked down at the shoes. Mom’s were there in their usual spot and I kicked off mine in their usual spot. Now it feels like I’m home. I slowly made my way to the kitchen, and there she was, taking cookies out of the oven in her iconic floral apron.

“Mom? I’m home.”

“OH! Iwata! I didn’t hear you come in!” Mom squealed before setting down the hot tray to embrace me “I thought your were coming home tomorrow?!”

“Nah I’m sick of looking at Tio and doing rich people things” I gagged to drive my point “I left late morning and took public transport. I just really wanted to come home.”

“I understand mijo, I probably would’ve done the same” she pursed her lips and placed her hand on my face “Why don’t you settle back in? I’ll have some food ready for you if you’re hungry.”

My stomach growled in comedic timing “Heh, okay. I’ll go do that.”

My side of the room stayed untouched, as expected. Tensei was a good boy and doesn’t go through my things. I slammed myself face first into my bed and screamed into my pillow. GOD I missed my bed and the comforts of home! As I unpacked, I remembered what I was going to do and dreaded having to bring it up in casual conversation with her. I hid the device in my closet shelf, away from Hanaka’s prying eyes. When I finally showed myself downstairs, mom had my plate of food ready at my spot on the nook.

“How was things at the estate? Tensei hasn’t told me much other than it’s been busy.” Mom said as she washed her hands “Oh that reminds me! The school called tell me that you missed some finals and they’re letting you make them up the weekend before school resumes.”

I sat down “Things were weird mom. I learned way more than I asked for” I sighed and picked up my fork “I never want to be that rich and be without family! Did you know that the oldest butler hid the family portraits that the old man took down?! I didn’t know you had a portrait done with them.”

“You found it?! I thought that old man for sure destroyed it!” gasped Mom “It was a beautiful painting and a very sentimental art piece to your father. He wanted to keep it if the old man didn’t approve it to be hung in the estate, but before he could ask, it was gone! Or so we were told by the artist.” She sat at her spot to listen to me “What else?”

In between bites of chilaquiles, I told her of my time and who I spoke to. I tried to bring up what I wanted to confront to her about, but that look in her eyes and all her attention made me want more of her...I missed my mom and I as torn between all my emotions I was feeling. Wish I didn’t have to do this. Everyone came home and we were finally a full house. It felt so good to be in their company again, I didn’t even mind all the smothering this time! Suppose the confrontation has to wait.

-The next day, at breakfast-

“Damn B, it’s just spam and eggs with toast” said the twins, looking at Lili and me have a breakdown over our food.

Lili wipes her eyes “I KNOW! I have to cook for myself every meal” she pointed at her toast “I have to wake up at 6 in the god forsaken morning so I can buy bread like a peasant woman because there isn’t any chain grocery stores where I live in France!”

“I haven’t had a single decent meal since I lived in the dorms” I held my toast up gently “F in the chat for the toaster in the dorms that Beizu tore apart for parts in August.”

Lili held her toast up with me “F”

“Yall are so fucking weird” Hanaka said with a groan “You don’t see Oro and I do this shit.”

“Don’t make fun of your older siblings” scolded Dad with an arm chop “They’ve had a tough time being away from home. You’d understand once you have to cook for yourself everyday.”

“ANYWAYS! Mom, who’s coming tonight?” cut in Tensei.

“Oh ummm, Mr Hitoshi and his husband. Aunty Mimi with Nikita, uncle Jin, Mei and Beizu, Mr Tokoyami and Petti, the Ojiros” listed Mom “Aunty Midnight, Hoshi and the Midoriyas. So more people than usual.”

“Aw abuela and abuelito aren’t coming this year?” responded Tensei with a pout.

“They’re coming for abuelita’s birthday, so don’t get all pouty mijo” assured Mom “But after breakfast, we gotta get our butts in clean mode because Mr Hitoshi and his husband are coming at 3pm, they’re dropping the kids off at their grandparent’s then coming straight here.”

And so I got back into the swing of things, my winter chore is cleaning the bathrooms and making sure they’re fully stocked with toiletries. I was done before our first guests were supposed to come, so my mind raced with how I was going to talk to mom as I showered.

“You decent?” knocked Lili at my door.

“Yea, come in” I said as I was drying my hair “What’s poppin’?”

She threw her arms around me and squeezed me “I just wanted to come in and hug you” she pinched my arms “Damn boy, UA beefed you up! I couldn’t tell under your baggy sweaters.” She laughed “But forrealzies, how much did you inherit?”

“Straight to the point huh?” I leaned in to her ear “2 million dollars and all the old man’s collectables.”

“Shut the fuck up!” gasped Lili “So you and tio were the only ones on the will?! That’s pretty wack, I’m the oldest and dad is literally that man’s family!”

I sighed “It’s complicated but I’ll say that it all has to do with mom.”

“Damn, but what are you going to do with the money?” asked Lili curiously.

“Might buy myself a house and go to college, or save it if I get a really good job out of high school.” I flop onto my bed “Lili, do you ever feel like mom has been hiding something from you?”

“Yea, it’s a given.”

I turn my head to face her “Wait what?”

“It’s a given. I’m sure mom hid things from us to protect us or because it’s none of our business” She responded “She’s a reasonable person, maybe she’ll tell us eventually when she’s ready to tell us. I’ve been curious of mom too when I was in high school. Nothing made sense and I felt like maybe I wasn’t going down the right path, so I asked her what she did and it opened up her past. After that conversation, I had more respect for her and felt like I can be more open to her about what I’m curious about.”

“Do you think she’ll answer me if I ask her something?” I felt my stomach tie itself into knots “I learned so much about her from other people that I’m not sure if we know the same person.”

Lili put her hand on my back “She’s our mom, no matter what, she’ll love us.”

That made me feel so much better about what I was about to do. I took my calming breaths at the base of the stairs before facing mom in the living room. She was having some down time after slaving over the pot of Pozolé and Ponché, her face still red from the heat of the pots.

“Hey mom, ummm mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure mijo is everything okay?” responded Mom as I sat down in the arm chair adjacent from the couch “You seem kind of stiff.”

“I’m just nervous” I responded “I just... I learned alot of things about you these past months. And I have so many questions that I’m afraid of knowing the answers too.”

“What is it? You can ask me anything” Mom said, looking attentively “You have my full attention.”

It hurt to see her like this, especially with what I had to say.

“Why did you hide about the death of Beizu Iwata?” I asked, looking at her dead in the eye.

Her face didn’t budge from her expression “I didn’t? His death is public information-”

“Stop LYING TO ME!” I yelled “You know what I mean! He was Bei’s dad and you couldn’t save him, and you’re guilty of your incompetence so you had me to give his son a friend. And that’s my purpose isn’t it?! I’m just some living plaything!”

“Iwata why would you say such a thing! I didn’t-”

“SHUT UP I’M NOT DONE TALKING!” I raised my voice “You named me after him, I’m here to just fix your mistake aren’t I? And what about your lovechild with Mr Hitoshi?! Oh and not to mention on why you came over here alone at 15 years old!” I felt myself become tense in this mix of rage and the verge of tears “It’s like I don’t even know you! WHO ARE YOU?!” I felt the hot tears run down my face “and why are things so complicated?”

Mom was white as a ghost and frozen on the couch. And my yelling got the attention of my dad.

“Iwata El Roca Iida! What is the meaning of this!” demanded Dad as he approached us “You dare to yell at your mother in that tone?! What has gotten into you? I-”

Mom held her hand up, commanding dad to stop talking. She then got up, stood in front of me and got on her knees for the deep bow. I’ve never seen her do this before and I got scared.

“I’m sorry Iwata, please forgive me for all my mistakes” she lifted her head to show the tears creeping down her face “I know I’m not a perfect mother and I’m a very flawed human with a very troubled past, but please let me explain things.” She took a deep breath to stabilize her breathing “I named you after Beizu Iwata, he’s one of the few people that I trusted to run the company. He poured his everything into the company and I wouldn’t be as successful without him. His death devastated me, I chased after him when he ran back inside the burning building. When I begged him to get to safety and to leave everything behind, he looked at me and touched my stomach before breaking the 6th floor window to throw me out with a box in my arms. Of course somebody caught me before my body reached the ground and he reappeared a few minutes later. After his death, I learned that I was 2 months pregnant with you, he saved both of us mijo. If I stayed any longer, I risked losing you and I don’t think my heart could take another infant death.”

“Another infant death?” my eye widened “No, don’t tell me-”

“I’m afraid so” She tried really hard not to lose her composure “I lost my first baby that I had with Mr Hitoshi, I wanted to have them so badly. You don’t know how much it hurts to not have a family when you still need them, so you make your own. But it hurts even more when you lose the family you failed to build.”

“Ita, please stand up” gently begged Dad, on the verge of tears “Please love, you don’t have to re-live the trauma. It’s okay.”

“No Tenya, I have to say it. How will we move forward if I don’t say what happened in the past?” She couldn’t look at us and kept her head down to face her lap “I came here to protect my family...” She told me the whole story of what happened in America and her decision that changed her life forever “...And that’s my burden to bear. I wish things didn’t have to be like this and I could be with my family and made my dreams come true back home. I dedicate my life to making sure nobody has to every go through what I went through unless it’s their decision.” She looked at me “I understand that you might not want to associate with me after all this, but just know that I love you so much. I wanted to have you, to nurture you, to teach you that you are free to be whoever you want to be, to love whomever you want” Her expression was full of pain, like it was bottled for years and it’s now surfaced “I know of all the bad things that could hurt you and I shouldn’t let one of them be me. And I’m sorry that I have.”

I felt like the villain, making my mom re-live her trauma and tell me she’s a bad mother. She’s not a bad person, she’s lived a life full of tragedy and we’re the one good thing that went right. And after all that, she still has the capacity to tell me she loves me? I really don’t deserve to be her son. I levitated her up and ran into her for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry” I sobbed “I didn’t know! And I feel awful! I just thought that maybe-”

“It’s okay baby” She shushed me, stroking my hair “No more bad feelings, no more deceit. If you want to know something, don’t bottle it up, just tell me and I won’t turn you away.”

“Okay mom” I held her tighter “I’m sorry I ruined Christmas.”

“You didn’t ruin Christmas Iwata” chuckled Mom through her tears “Your tia set the Christmas tree on fire when I was like, twelve, and it burned all the presents underneath it.”

“Never mind that actually sucks” I laughed, pulling away from her “Then is everything cool?”

“Hmmm, I wouldn’t say that” Mom said, giving me her iconic career ending face “I cleared up and explained myself, now it’s your turn.” She levitates me so I wouldn’t run “Care to explain your little academic double life?”

“Huh? What are you talk-” It hit me, she knows about my double program enrollment “Oooooh, oof.”

“We’ve known since June” Dad spoke up with his arms crossed “Nurse Eri told us when she called to discuss your health exam. We talked to the school to confirm, so theres no use in lying your way out of this one Iwata.”

I looked at my parents and sighed in defeat “Fine, I enrolled myself in the Hero and Intel course after your Great Grand Uncle told me he was going to pay for my tuition. So to spite him later, I was going to show him that I got both and decide to be an agent instead of a hero to break the streak of heroes in the family.” I felt like a trapped animal awaiting death “He insulted my family and I used my favoritism as my upper hand to get back at him that I am my mother’s son and so what?! Fuck that viejo and his hateful ass, I’m half latino!”

“You really are your mother’s son” said Dad in disbelief “It’s like looking at your mother when she was your age, same pettiness and pride!” He cleared his throat “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to punish you for lying to us on why you’re always stressed! You know better than to overwork yourself.”

“And on top of that, I had someone on the inside tell me about the device and the old school files” Mom added “So you peeked and meddled into my personal business ey?! And all you did was hurt yourself. We have no choice but to issue capital punishment to you AND Beizu.”

I gasped “You leave him out of this! He’s innocent!”

“Can’t do, he’s your accomplice” Mom pulled out her phone to show me texts “One of the perks of having friends that work in a school is that you have watchful eyes on your children at all times.”

“Damn you got us” at that moment, I knew I was about to hate my life.

“We’ll come up with a group punishment later, but we agreed that you’re to be sentenced to house arrest for the rest of the winter break” Mom crossed her arms “AND we’re taking away cursing privileges, starting now.”

I gasped “NOOOO! Anything but capital punishment!”

The doorbell rang, it was our first guests.

“Hey I brought- oh are we interrupting something?” Mr Hitoshi said walking into the living room.

“Not at all! Just issuing punishment” Mom puts me down and turns to the two men “Iwata was just talking about you Hitoshi!”

“Oh yea? About what?” chuckled the purple haired man as took a seat.

Mom motioned to me “Iwata, care to share with him?”

I gulped the guilt lump I had in my throat “I know about your and my mom’s baby and their death was the reason you left my mom.”

Mr Hitoshi’s face turned white “How did you- There’s no way!”

“He got real nosey and hurt his own feelings” Mom summarized it “Oh you brought the saké! Bring the cups out Tenya!”

“What else did you learn Iwata?” asked Mr Neito.

“I learned that you, um, did the deed with my mom” I cringed “Many times, in the dorms and a few times in the workrooms at school.”

“YOU WHAT?!” screamed Dad with a tray of specialty drink ware.

“Oh don’t act surprised Tenya!” Mom put her hands on her hips “It was totally obvious! I lost my virginity to him. And I rewarded him with intimacy after training and in turn, became a decent person.”

“Yup, sorry Tenya that you got my sloppy seconds” responded Mr Nieto unapologetically “But as I said at your wedding, good for you that you got a woman that can really spice things up.”

“I thought you meant that she’s a good cook!” Dad defended himself “Not that you two had a thing in the past?!”

“Join the club, I didn’t know either until she dropped off the wedding invite” Hitoshi said as he poured the saké “But I’ll drink to that!” He handed each of us a little cup of the alcohol and raised his glass “To Ita and her bomb pussy game, it was the one thing I missed the most.”

“Kampai!” cheered everyone but my dad and I.

I downed my cup and held it out again “Imma need another cup so I can forget that chief.”

I waited patiently for Beizu to come so I can hold his hand as we get flamed my our moms with the group punishment. And when he did, his face was puffy from crying and we just held each other for the brief moment we had before getting flamed. Our mom’s agreed that the group punishment was no sleepovers the entire break and one week of intense training with aunty Mimi. I didn’t know what to do, other than go up to my room with Beizu for blanket fort time.

“Iwa, we were so wrong about things” Beizu said softly as he put his head on my chest “but I’m happy it wasn’t that way. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, it’s the one thing I’m certain about.”

I smiled and stroked his hair “Me too, we’re two halves that can’t be left incomplete.” I thought about my inheritance “When we get older, would you go on a vacation with me or co-own a house with me?”

Beizu thought about it for a minute “Hmm, I’d co-own a house with you. Because then we can spend everyday with each other.”

“What if we do both?”

“Even better but I’m just thinking of all that money we’d need to do that” explained Beizu “the house is a better investment.”

“Okay, say I inherited 2 million dollars and I want to spend it on us, now what would you say?”

His eyes widen “You did not just inherited 2 million?!” Beizu was in disbelief “I’d probably just marry you at that point. Hell, lets get married right now!”

I laughed and brought him in for a hug “Let’s get married and spend all of our money on pillows and our favorite foods. Living easy for the rest of our lives.”

He held me tight “That’s my dream, to be with you forever.”

So maybe Christmas wasn’t ruined by me and I was just being latino-in-a-telenovela dramatic. I feel so much more like myself now. Year two of this shit is really happening!....wonder if it’s gonna rock my shit.

Chapter 10.75, End

#bnha #mha #self insert au #book 3 chapter 10.75 #not canon #will update regularly #ask me anything #//Palma-sama Speaks #Iwata fucked around and found out really hard this time! But finally the confrontation!#Not gonna lie... I cried writing the forgiveness part and I'm a big baby!#I hinted a few things that will show up toward the end of this book...yall gonna go feral over it #Lili is back for a bit bc I know she's some of yall's fave. If you're confused on who she is plz read Book 2 to get acquainted with her #A nice soft moment with the boys to close off the arc uwu bc the plot gets heart wrenching after this lmao #chapters are still on an inconsistent schedule bc school is continuing to kick my ass... F in the chat for my sanity

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swinterr · 5 years ago

Text

Valerie IV

Valerie has been gone for 3 days and her family and Anwar are worrying.

They think that Valerie run away for some reason. But the truth is that Valerie is just chilling on her beach house without a care in the world.

Anwar was woken up by Yolanda, her mom, knocking in his room door continuously.

“Anwar! Anwar!” Yolanda continues to yell behind the door

Anwar groans and use a pillow to cover his ears to avoid his mother’s voice intruding him in his deep slumber.

“Anwar! Valerie is missing! Get the fuck up!”

That’s the time when Anwar start calling everybody.

He called his sisters, then Bella and Gigi starts calling everybody who knows Valerie.

Anwar even called Shawn.

Shawn is sitting on the couch inside his tour bus, strumming his guitar. Beside him is Connor and Brian playing Xbox.

As Shawn changes the position of his fingers his phone rings off.

Incoming call: Hailey Baldwin

Huh? that’s weird, they never really talked after their pr. Why she calling me? Shawn though

“Uh hello? Is this Shawn Mendes?” her soft voice fills the air, but not as soft as Valerie’s.

Shawn holds his guitar on his lap as his other hand holds the phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Bella called, Bella Hadid oh and Gigi called. You know them right?” the connection is a little weak so shawn’s having a hard time understanding plus the guys are are basically screaming at each other right now.

“Uh yeah. Wait a second.” Shawn mumbled as he sets his guitar down the couch, he prepares himself to scream at the guys.

He covers the speaker and shout. “Dude! Shut the fuck up!”

“Are you okay?” Hailey laughs as she hears guys complaining in the background.

“Anyways Valerie’s missing. The girls asked me to ask you if you know where she is.”

Shawn can feel the guys looking at him, he felt his world stopped spinning.

Anyway Shawn started calling everyone he knew who has connections with Valerie.

Basically that day was so stressful that even Andrew had to call Valerie’s parents to asked what’s happening.

Meanwhile Valerie had the best three days of her life.

She literally made the best decision of buying the house, although it’s expensive as heck.

Her house has a rooftop, with an helicopter parking in it. All she has to buy now is the actual helicopter. All that she can say is that her house is a dream. A gym, a pool, a library, a game room, a cinema room. Everything, she even have her own bar where she store her alcoholic drinks she stole from her dad.

On the first day she just watched movies on her laptop, ate fruits, went to the gym did some yoga. And on the afternoon she went sunbathing on the rooftop, she drove a boat and went fishing— in which she ate what she caught for dinner.

The second day is a chill day, she went to the gym at the morning and yoga at night. She spent almost her day sitting in the massage chair she brought. That’s all.

The third day— her last day she went jogging on the highway which is still her property, she thought that she the road is a little bit dark and sad. So she thought the next day when she will come back to Bel Air she will order bunch of lamp post, trees— specifically palm trees and other plants also, she will hire people to take care of her house at the same time will plant and will take care of her trees and plants.

Valerie now is packing her things, just her bag. She already did her laundry and decided to leave her clothes there in case if she come backs or something.

Valerie loaded her things on her car and zoomed off.

Before she goes she checked if she locked all the doors and the gates.

The car ride is interesting, she saw some paps on her way to Bel Air. Hoping that can glimpse at her and their family mansion which they kept private.

Its been a week since Valerie returned home from her mini vacation in Malibu.

Valerie and her dad hade some “serious talk” about what’s happening with her these past few days.

Eventually her dad, Virgo, figured out that her daughter and Shawn broke up.

Plus he said that ever since that dinner back in Toronto Valerie has been acting off and mostly sad. Virgo is worried about his angel’s mental health he says he missed the old Valerie, thus he ask Valerie to seek the help of a therapist which Valerie agreed too.

Her dad’s friend, Léon, also her godfather died because of depression. Although her case isn’t that deep. Virgo wanted her to be safe, also for him mental health is more important than physical health.

Few weeks later Shawn is in Oakland. Valerie had literally 4 sessions every week and after every session she does photoshoot and video campaigns for different brands.

Those sessions really helped him in forgetting their shared memories slowly.

That went pretty well. Today Valerie is getting ready for the ribbon cutting in Los Angeles for their hotel.

“You know what Val, I think you should quit studying and become a model.” Kayla, her make up artist slash hairstylist said as she blend Valerie’s blush out.

Her makeup is simple, glowy and natural except for her lips. Her team insisted that she should do a dark redish purple lip.

“Yeah you literally look like a Victoria’s Secret model.” Adrian, her stylists agrees.

Valerie’s looking beautiful as ever.

Adrian is currently zipping up Valerie’s dress while Kayla is touching up Val’s make up.

Valerie is rockin a black strapless beaded gown from Naeem Khan and a black and a black platform sandals from Malone Souliers.

Valerie is basically a model now, so she gotta serve looks, she gotta look stunning in every angle.

They are in Bel Air, in Valerie’s parents house.

“I don’t know I mean I would do it but I love learning.” Valerie shrugs.

“And besides, I’m not confident enough for that.”

“Girls?” a knock on the door interrupt them

They all stop what they’re doing and looked at the door.

“The car is waiting.”

“I’m so glad you guys made it!” Vernon greeted Brian and Connor.

Connor and Brian walked inside the hotel, with the maids giving them juice because Connor is still underage. Connor eyes widen when he saw the interior of the Valentin’s newly opened hotel while Brian just smirked.

“Hi I’m Vernon, I’m Val’s older brother.” Vernon approach the two while carrying baby Laslo in his right toned arm.

“Vernon! I brought my friend here, his name is Connor.” Brian introduced Connor to Vernon.

Vernon and Brian knew each other. They met last year at Valerie’s Birthday.

“Ahhh Connor, Shawn Mendes’ videographer?” Vernon shook Connor’s hands, he knew Connor through Val, she mention that he studies in UCLA just like him but he graduated already.

Laslo squirmed in his dad arms and extending his arm towards Brian. Wanting to be carried by him so Brian carried him, Brian extended his arms and carried Laslo.

Connor and Brian bodies stiffen when he mention Shawn, as a friend of Shawn of course they are embarrassed by his action.

“Where’s the kid?” Connor didn’t knew what to do so he looked at Brian, Brian eyes widen, he didn’t know where even Shawn is.

“Uhhh I don’t really know, he’s working on s project.” Brian awkwardly laugh.

“He better be, I’m gon—” Brian and Connor are mentally thanking Milo for cutting of his dad for saying something.

“Hi! I’m Laslo, I got my tooth of yesterday. The tooth fairy gave my $50.” Laslo proudly shows his missing bottom tooth to Connor.

Connor is about to answer when Viviane walked towards them.

Connor knew Valerie has two sibling. Valerie is hella attractive but he didn’t knew that even her siblings are attractive too. They look like greek gods and goddesses.

“Vernon dad’s looking for you.” Viviane look stunning, she looked like a model. She approached the group and once again Laslo is squirming in Brian’s arms, he wants Viviane to carry him.

“Brian! Nice to see you again.” Viviane smiled and hug Brian.

“Hi I’m Viviane Valentin, Valerie older sister. Nice to meet you.” Viviane hugged Connor.

��Go to the 23rd floor, Valerie’s waiting for you there.”

Viviane and Vernon walked to their parent but Vernon stopped and looked at them and said. “Tell Shawn he better be careful. Valerie is to precious to be cheated on.”

Connor eyes is practically shaking. Valerie and Viviane share the same personality with their Mom, except Valerie is more softer and Vernon and His Dad share the same personality except Vernon is more harsh and tougher like but he look soft.

“I’m literally dying when Val brother asked Shawn.” Chugged his juice down, his throat feels dry after their encounter with the Valentin’s.

The two are finally alone and can finally talk openly.

“I know! My armpits are sweating” Brian fanned his armpits.

“Dude, Valerie’s sibling are attractive! Have you seen her sister, her sister’s hot. Also I never knew Val was this rich!” Connor runs his finger through his hair.

“The first time I met her was when she was staying at her aunt’s house because I thought they don’t have no house but they are renovating their fucking mansion!” Valerie stayed at her aunt Veronica when their mansion is renovated, that’s when she met Shawn, Aunt Veronica’s house is directly to the Mendes’ Household and Brian’s house is just around the block.

“Dude Harvard is fee is around like $44,000 she rich rich!”

While the two are on their way to their designated floor they kept on talking about Val’s family wealth. Brian mostly keeps on talking to be honest because he known Val for years. He told Connor about them having private jets, mansion and other stuff that mostly billionaires can afford.

When Connor and Brian entered Valerie’s room they saw her crying on the bed with her laptop on.

“Valerie I miss youu but why are you crying?” the two lads run up to Valerie’s bed and hug her.

“I just got a modeling gig!” Valerie cried, Valerie has always been the sensitive type. When she’s hurt or happy she always cried. Shawn always calls her cry baby when they were younger until now.

“Really? That’s good but why do you need to cry?” Connor is confused.

Valerie models when it’s summer. She rarely do gigs when uni is starting.

“Yeah you should be proud!” Brian added.

“I know but it’s too much, I don’t think I can do it.”

“What brands are they anyway.”

“Um, Gucci, Burberry, YSL and Maybelline, Adidas, Calvin Klein, Moschino, Stuart Weitzman and also oh my god Chanel contacted me!”

“What!! 9 brands that’s crazy!” Connor started jumping and so does Brian.

Taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

@clarissahunter

heyy i haven’t updated for a while hehehe. you guys still read this? if you do i love you, a lot has happened this past few months hehe

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #angst #shawn mendes angst #fluff #valerie #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb

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