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definesanity · 4 months ago

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The Flower That Will Never Bloom.

It was a strange sight to see, someone so familiar, yet so different at the same time.

Throughout the many 'Branches', Intoner One had found herself fighting to the end and being stabbed, being stabbed, being stabbed, or being stabbed.

Which, now that she thinks about it, is a bit strange that she's been stabbed on four separate occasions.

Said cause, barring number two which, funnily enough, was caused by Two, was her sister, Zero. Who, by extension, is their mother.

The family tree is gonna look very weird.

And, who now sits in front of One as not the Original Intoner, but rather, as a young girl named 'Rose'. One won't lie that Zero and One are very similar. The same stark white hair, thr same rose-coloured eyes, the same snarl of annoyance, and even the same groan of mild anger.

Yet, of course, there is a difference. In this case, it is her eyes.

Zero's eyes were, as far as she could remember, begotten of any and all trace of most common emotions. Sorrow she had seen once, back when Mikhail, Michael's reincarnation, was dying.

Anger was a given, it was a defining trait of her's.

Lust, too; as Intoners, they feast on that to keep themselves alive.

But Rose's eyes? They were expressive. It was a thing no one had gotten used to yet, but they had to very quickly adapt to be quiet in that matter.

Rose looked up at One from where she was on the ground of their little house, towards the blond with a book in her hands.

"Hey," she said, voice still having that unique 'quality' to it to make it still 'Zero'. "What'cha reading?"

One paused her reading, looking at Rose once more. "It's a fantasy." she replied shortly.

Rose gave a snort at that, a grin appearing on her face. "Huh. Didn't peg you the type to enjoy 'em."

One could have replied with many different answers. But, she knew, Rose got bored easily of long and arduous answers. (Of course, excluding Three, who manages to always capture the young girl's attention for hours on end, somehow.)

"I enjoy all types of books." One replied simply. Less verbose as she would have liked, but it got the point across.

"Heh. Bookworm." Rose snarked back. One didn't rise to the jab. So, Rose asked a different question. "What's it about?"

"A world is trapped before the turn of the millennium, with the clock turning backwards. A group of individuals are led by a girl who is immune to the clock, and who are trying to figure out why the clock is going backwards to begin with."

"Sounds more like something you'd see in a action book." Rose said.

"You're not wrong. Given its theme, however, it falls under fantasy."

Rose gave a hum, and stood up from the carpet. Seems like she needs a change of scenery. "If you need me, I'll be outdoors. Is anyone else there?"

"I believe Four is, yes."

Rose smiled innocently, and walked away.

"Two?" One spoke.

"I'm on it, Sis!" One can see the salute that the blue-haired sister gave.

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

Intoner Four had... mixed feelings on. A lot of things.

Her sisters, for one. Up until a little while ago, she had been filled with... many emotions towards them. Envy, jealousy, hatred, anger, discontent...

She felt disconnected from them all. And, she could only find solace in Zero.

She never lied, both in the first and the fourth Branch; Zero was someone, the only one, she looked up to in her entire 'life'.

And now, with a Zero who is not Zero, but Rose... it made Four hesitant on many things. Even talking to her.

After all, Four doesn't know what interests they share. Or, wait, wouldn't it be--?

"Hey."

Four did not jump. No, shut up, she didn't.

But she was startled by Rose's sudden appearance, which caused her to cough to both find and regain her lost composure.

"R-Rose, hi!" keep a smile, lean into the mask you used to wear. It should be easy.

But of course, nothing is ever easy.

"I know that One won't ever say 'yes', but would you say yes?" Rose leaned in, sitting on Four's lap as emerald met rose.

"U-Um--" Four quickly tried to deflect. "I-If this is about going outside to see the city, then--"

But, of course, Rose was quick on the attack.

"No, dummy. You know what I mean." The finger curled on Four's chin, and Four was battling Intoner instinct, morality (at least, what's left of her's) and the sense of right and wrong.

And in that next moment, you will never be able to get Four to admit she is glad to see Two walking towards them.

"Howdy, Sis, Rose!" The greeted cheerfully, and Four saw Rose's face contort, before quickly shifting back into a neutral expression.

This is was the main challenge: Rose' upbringing. No child should be made to become a lurker of the night, much less by their own mother.

And so, the Intoners are fighting an uphill battle. Habits are read to break, Three can attest to it, trying her best not to let the scientist part rule her morality.

"...Hi, Two." Rose greeted, turning around. "I thought you were in the kitchen?"

"I mean. I was! I just needed a lil' fresh air, was all!" Two lied as easily as she breathed. Must have learnt from Four's mannerisms...

"Mm, sure, sure." Rose replied.

She went off of the lap of Four, breathed in the air, and went back into the house.

Four looked at Two. "...Thanks."

"Dont mention it, Sis," Two smiled.

Four nearly forgot that it was this was the sister who killed the Intoners in one life.

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

When it came to enrichment, it normally fell to Five. Despite her looks and personality, she's surprisingly amazing when it comes to entertaining kids, and Rose was no different. Almost, anyways.

Five was, out of all of the Intoners, the most sunken into her base instincts. At least, that was the illusion she enjoyed to give off. In five Branches, no one suspected a thing, that the horniest sister studied things like philosophy, or even helped to build orphanages.

Children, to Five, are beings untainted by the world.

At least, until Rose entered her and her sister's lives.

Rose reminded Five too much of herself, in how subtle the girl is. Five knows just as much as Three that you cannot go back quickly on what you have been doing for your entire life.

Now, granted, Five had an easier time than Three, all in all. But, even still... it is difficult.

"'Poems of A Begotten Time?'" Rose looked at the book being shown off in the window. Five quickly moved backwards to look at what her sister/technical mother spotted.

It was a heavy looking book, and its pages seemed to be worn by the passage of time.

Five looked at it. Back in the first Branch, she wanted that book badly, only to learn that it had since been burnt by accident...

Taking Rose's hand into her own, she walked into the bookstore. About a minute later, she left with her other hand carefully holding the book.

Rose, for the most part, looked surprised. "You like philosophy?"

Five just winked and gave a short laugh. "Don't let the others know, m'kay?"

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

Three was an enjoyer of silence.

It was a comfort, in times where she was making dolls. Of course, how she made them had since changed, but the sound of the soundless still helped her.

Until Rose appeared.

"Whatcha makin'?" she asked the purple-haired lady, who had taken a pause in her sewing. She didn't know, either. It just happened randomly.

And, looking at it, it was a familiar shape. A familiar cape, white clothing, a pink flower in her eyes...

"...I'm making a doll of my sister." came Three's reply. Unlike times where she would giggle lazily, using scissors to slice her enemies, there were the rare times where she would be completely silent, using her katanas and shield to ravage her foes.

In that way, it was similar to Three carefully choosing her words.

"Your sister?" Rose hummed back.

"...Yes. Zero. She is... no longer with us." Three's reply wasn't meant to sound cold, for she did care about Rose... but alas.

"...She looks kinda like me." Rose noted.

"She does, doesn't she? I always thought it was strange, too. But, thankfully, you aren't dying slowly."

"..." Rose just looked at Three in silence.

That silence was once Zero's, too.

And, hopefully, it will never become Rose's.

#ryuusei's works #drakengard 3 #drakengard 3 zero #drakengard 3 one #drakengard 3 two #drakengard 3 three #drakengard 3 four #drakengard 3 five

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sixminutestoriesblog · 2 years ago

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blackberries

Last year I bought myself a blackberry plant at Tractor Supply. It was one of those kinds that you buy in a little carton box, dry twigs with a rootball wrapped in soil and plastic at the end. I have been trying to grow blackberries for years because I love the taste of them wild and hate the taste of them store bought. I have always been horrifyingly unsuccessful at keeping the plants I buy alive despite the fact every story I've ever read assures me that blackberries grow like wildfire and are impossible to contain or hold back the rising tide of once they take root.

I'm sorry, nana. I have no idea where your green thumb went but nobody on this side of the generation gap inherited it.

Still, I'm nothing if not an avid buyer of plants the way some people buy shoes so I gave it another go.

It died.

At least, I was pretty sure it died. It gave me some leaves once it was potted, sat there sullenly without doing anything more for a few months and then dropped its leaves and stuck its sticky middle finger up at me. I told myself it was just hibernating. One of its two branches broke off, completely hollow. Sleeping, I said. It's just sleeping very, very deeply. I left it alone with the rest of my porch menagerie. Spring hit and I moved some plants over to bigger pots, had some extra soil and figured 'what the hell?'. I repotted it, and a cherry tree (stick, its a stick that says its going to be a cherry tree one day) and forgot about it. Last week, I realized it didn't just have leaves, it had flowers! Its been putting out more flowers ever since, going like all bangers. I don't know what's going on but I'm emotionally invested now. I set it down on the stone border at ground level in the hopes that maybe some bees will visit those lovely flowers its trying its darnest by putting out.

Is this the year I finally get blackberries?

It seems almost like a fairy gold promise, so lets get on with our discussion about blackberry folk lore and superstition.

First, the good news. Not only are blackberries tasty (yes, they are. Fight me!) but the brambles are supposed to be good for curing boils, whooping cough and rheumatism. My book on Appalachian folklore says that a blackberry cordial is good against 'summer complaints'. Looking up 'summer complaint' tells me its diarrhea, especially when it comes to small children and babies during the summer - also that its associated with bacterial growth in food, which I suppose would be more common once the weather warms up. The healthline website tells me blackberries are high in Vitamin C and fiber so perhaps that's boost enough to merit becoming a traditional folk remedy.

Funny news. Br'er (Brother) Rabbit, an African-American folk tale trickster, fooled his captors into tossing him into a briar patch, which, as a rabbit, he easily escaped from. Cherokee folk tales have a similar incident with their own Rabbit. Blackberry patches grow native all along the Eastern coast of the US. Maybe Rabbit grabbed a snack on his way out.

Bad news?

Apparently, if you're not a rabbit, blackberries are the Devil's berry!

Okay, hold with me. It's all in the color. The story varies from place to place in Europe. In France, you're not supposed to eat them at all. Blackberries are that color because they're covered in Devil Spit! Which, let's be real here, I don't like eating things people have spit on either.

In other parts of Europe, and I'm getting mostly UK areas for this, you can eat blackberries but only until October 11. After that, its a no-go. The story is that Satan fell into a berry bush on that day and did some cursing in retaliation for getting stabbed with thorns. Whatever he did, the general result was that, from that day on, the berries are cursed. If you're lucky, the berries just go bad. If you're not, you get the usual 'die within the year' thing.

Why October 11? That's Michaelmas Day. Michaelmas Day is traditionally the date that Satan got thrown out of heaven - and apparently landed in a blackberry bush. It's the Old School date though. Current Michaelmas Day is now September 29 or November 8th depending on which side you pick. Point is - don't eat the berries. In some parts of the UK, spit wasn't the bodily fluid the Devil used to curse them.

what blackberry stories have you heard lately?

#blackberry #folklore #superstition #herbalism #herbology #cottagecore #gardening

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solardick · 8 months ago

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Здравствуйте versus привет.

Hello versus hi.

Formal versus informal.

Subject’s birth point on “classical/modern” Waite’s version of the high priestess versus my own variant. The bearer of language and structure.

“Formal” english is a meek point. It barely exists anymore. The more formal an english speaker is the queerer they sound.

May I? Versus. Can I? Proves the degeneration of language. Which isn’t a far off shoot considering the vast amount of imaginative corrections needed to be made between spelling and pronunciation, it comes built it. And predisposes the mass to live an untrue nature. If i worded all that the way i intented. A Bow’s bow. Cant tell the difference between what word means what the contextual fails to the bias.

Yeah. It must be Santa clause. Definitely.

Truth is here. One may easily change the devil card for satan. Uh, i mean santa.

Clause

The russian’s dont technically have a Santa. Its soemthing else. Which serves as a near point.

Its makes the man’s job alot easier considering he doesnt have to fly over and deliver presents to the largest country in the world.

But on track. The high priestess of waites variety, makes a luke warm connection to the biblical holy church of king David or who ever. Part of the old testement. Ehich is primarily the school of gard knocks. Without saying the BJ on the pillars are suppose to represent boaz and joaz or whatever. Like anyone cares. But, those familiar witb the tarot cards would agree. That thise pillars stand for the magician and the chariot. Too bad though that BJ stands for something completely different on the perverted side of society. No one is going to make a connection to the church based on a BJ.

Its the tora or rota. Or whatever BS. The circle of “life” go around and come around the BJ. Getting sick of it yet. Well too bad.

Curiosity abound. What is the difference between C, see and sea? How to spell the letter C? Speaking of meekness. I beleive this is here.

Wholy mother of mary. Damned girl. Dont stop now.

But, oh well, my ass is going to keep me up all night again. I don’t want to be alive anymore. Right in the “erogenous” zone. Never goes away. Always gassy. Always sensitive. Always swollen.i dotn think im going to work again inwamt a fucken ciggarette. Diet doens tfuxken matter. Just life fucken with me since my first memeory.nothing to learn except being raped by existance. Doems tmatter if im an asshole or a savoir. Its always the same. Welcome to life man. Here a staircase. Push. Been that way ever since. For experience. Im hoing start smoking again pop a couple pills maybe ill sleep. And no one to talk to excspt degenerates criminals, foreigners that dont speak english and fags. The only thing i did different today was buy a couple snokes off some fucken cocksucker asshole that talks crap all the time. Like most of them. Probaly drugging me again as usual. Been beeing drugged since forever. Its apart of their warcraft. Been super nice to me today too. Even offered coffee. But fuck you. Last time its fucked me up. Side wffect aof the pills the guesswork doctors gave me. Are. No operating machinery and Psychosis.

Suicide is the only sin god doesnt forgive. No fuck cause you fucken dead. Wait another half hour see if the pills work and if not. Save the rest for when i get wasted and hang myself. Being muscle relaxants or some shit. The fuck if i know. Back to

Tv.

Pills worked. Mostly. Just felt warm. And now my vission is a little blurry. Doubled the dose he gave me. So 20ml is just a little too little. Last time i took a dose he gave me. It didnt do anything. I dont want ot go to work anymore. I want ot go bsck to being wnemployed and and suicidal. Less stress that way.

Oh well guess ill never know what it feels like not being abused.

Oh gid sent me a rabbit. Still dont knwo what thise mean. A croh flew past earlier.

Want people to quit smoking? How about you make them illegal and stop fucken manufacturing thr fucken things. Maybe we do need a fucken dictatorship. Anout the jobs the jobs. Fuck the job hiw many fucken immagrant do y’all invite over here and they go straight to welfare. Fuck your bs.

I fucken hate this continent. I can eat an wntire large bag of doritos and have no symtoms. Had chicken and homey yestweday. No symptoms. Had so again the next day. Was up all night. . If its at the end of the GI track. Then it can take up to 36 hours to reach that point. But apparently it can take on 15 mins to 4 hours. At leat i grt my proteins worth with a litter of yogurt everyday.

So i checked my hororscope for my birthday next year. Spyche return. And eros. Pluto sqaure pluto. Neptune sayrts in aries. Mean. Wonder if its a comming out celebration. Oh, there goes a croh. Ita ganna be a shitty day

Anyway. Excuse the insanity and despair. So for the rabbit portent. Or omen. It’s attached to lost and found. Easter bunny. This coupled to the crohs. Lost ans found something negative. But also dor the positive. For the rabbit. Seems to be. A neutral character. But, this is going off a single happening. And will need to be looked into to see if it’s a constant. Like that of the croh.

…uh. He told me his name was BJ.

I cant do it man. I cant look at an image of a woman with nig bold letters saying B J and keep a straight face.

Though inget it. It was definatally a magician chariot converstion. Empowering and all. Can’t say that it didn’t wake me a bit. Even though ive heard it all before. My own priestess. Has innocense written all over her. With a power of a logos looking over her. The magician to the empress or the emperor. As number 4. Nature and rule. Its akin to my gamma card being connected to the star. But i dont like callingnit the star. Its misleading. As there is no wish. Its retirbution. Because the falling star as it is sometimes depicted as. Is a moment to wish. A moment in the future to come. But asnit plays out. It is that moment of the future being breed from temperance. The eight pointed star is the connecting clue to the justice card. And is the calm and quiet of the night from upheaval and unease. It being a woman. Suits it perfectly.

As temperanve is a balancing of Accounts of something that shouldnt be. Waite’s version shits all over these connections. Replaces the eight pointed star connection to strength instead. Mother nature wrestling a lion roar to caressing it. Not my experience.

… ghost busters: frozen empire?

Is this to say that the summer is going to be mild and cool. As aquaman: the lost kingdom, was to the unnaturally warm winter? So, jo “intense heat this summer? The preview looked like some horrible acting. But ant-man. Isnt a greta actor anyway. Funny but. Not very good. I dont know if i should order books. I never read them. They just sit there. But i like having a library. University edition of english grammar. And the evolution of the russian language. Which is pricy. But, tarot books are inadequate and unreliable.

And what happened to my symptoms? Severe again last night. Popped a couple pills fell asleep. Instead of binging anime. Woke up the next morning and all but gone except for the very mild by comparison. Didn’t do anything different even ate a large bag of Doritos. The Polypropylene and thermoplastic resins are delicious.

Whichc must be why when people have a hard time saying something, or looking for the roght word. Most people will comenin a correct them or say “ja, i get ehat you mean.” But, i havent even pooped yet.

Erin on attack on titan finally found the ocean. The ocean and the perils within and withon. Not so different from the perils on the night. Which works as a star card. And the letter V the russian war machine placed upon their naval fleets.

Wow, women are particularly pretty today. Told you V stands for vagina.

What? They’re objects. Blame the english language.

But its monday now. Pains back. And why move away. Looks like the condition is permanent. And if i do. Ill just be forced out of where ever i land ahyway. Its a life theme. Been that way since my first memory. Seems to dissapear mostly on saterdays. I get born, tied to a higjlt toxic relationship to some plutonic fucken cocksycker that treats me like shit. Enjoying the feeling of superiority over me. Litterally. And i get tossed around from place to place for ither peoples convinience. 39 years and counting nothings changed and it has nothing to do with me. . The entire fucken plabet may burn. And i font give a fuck.

#tarot #tarotblr #qwerty #jcuzen #russian #english

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skullboysfinale · 1 year ago

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"when i see someone, i can feel and smell the sin. Its like magnetism. I'm drawn to it. When theyre alive, the flesh is raw, perfect for the bite. But if its dead the bites still as good, just depends on the sin. Each muscle is a sweet flavor in it of itself. " as she explained this she was cutting into a strange meat. It looked like medium ish rare steak, the smell of its blood and grease drowned in seasoning. She sliced a nice blood slice off.

"i often preserve my victims for later. Sometimes my siblings gift wrap them for me. I did this as i grew up. I couldn't keep tracking down rap/ists and tearing them apart. I needed to remove every single piece and stock up on meat to last longer. " she consumed the meaty chunk licking her lips. "I often wondered why i did this, whenever i would stay with a friend, i ended up eating their creepy dad as they screamed or munching the fingers off some racist dickhead. I know i am human but i am not. I am not one of them. Humans turn to sin and they turn to meat in my eyes. Humans so vulgar and wrapped in thier own consumption of lust and pride and greed and gluttony - they don't deserve to be mourned or buried. They're only purpose and salvation, is me. The angel that eats. To me, its not cannibalism, im just at the top of thr food chain."

✚ "..." Valentino listened with attention, not really paying attention to the 'mystery jerky' she was preparing.

✚ "You know, it makes me wonder why you fell for me. Cause I'm sure I've committed way more sins than just going around thinking with the head between my legs. I'm also a simple human; no divine powers, no demonic energy, I'm a mere human that got involved in things that should be prohibited and punished. Will you eat me, literally, sooner or later?"

@iblade290-2

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hopeheartfilia · 4 years ago

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the way of the househusband is such a cute show i love it, gin is adorable and a little shit also and Miku is the best and masa isnt half bad. Also I had to delete like two paragraphs of stuff Id like to discuss...

#The job of a stay at home housekeeper is hard and complex and not something I would ever want for myself but it is still important #to know how to keep our place well maintained as well as ourselves as much as we can.#the way of the househusband #what i mean is. Id personally never be a stay at home wife but that doesnt mean i dont need to know how to cook or do my laundry or clean #and id so be asking for tips on growing basil irl #i iust. my windows are facing the wrong side and there simply isnt enough light to keep a plant alive if it isnt summer #and i dont want to buy a plant lamp sooo. yeah summer fresh basil only :'/#i did learn a new thing and thats about the corners with the stick and cloth.#we deal with the corners by removing part of the vacum extention so its a tube instead #also i hate dusting in any shape and or form even if Im not making it go up by using the uhh idk if they are actually called microfiber #and yeah i love the cat #and miku is just. so cool. she could totally kick my ass #anyway i really would like to have tatsus knife skills actually its really cool #like yes i chop when cooking just fine but i dont have cool tricks ya know #thr show is adorable #the romance is so cute and the dog moment was also cute and gin is always cute even if hes alittle shit #also hes a great knitter! I dont really knit but still #i tend to focus more on savory/salty/spicy dishes. with im not saying tatsu doesnt but he deifnetly enjoys making sweets more then me #i dont like baking basically #i did warm up to breat during quarantine so its fine

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technowoah · 4 years ago

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Rather Be Devisive Than Indecisive pt. 2

You weren't planning to help Techno again, but here you are with his horse.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- I really wanted to do second part anyways! So thanks a bunch!

- this story is long 😪 it'll all make sense though!

- part 1 is here!

- masterlist!

To say everything went south was a understatement. Everything went to hell, and you were currently living in it. You missed watching the sunset standing ontop L'Manburg's walls, you missed the peacefulness before the war. Maybe back then was too good to be true.

After the last encounter with Technoblade you had turned back to help Tommy and Tubbo. You tried to help wherever you could because you can see everyone drift apart, the main reason people came together was gone and dead. You tried to be a bigger sibling to both of them, and you tried to Tubbo and the former citizens repair the crater Wilbur left behind.

It took years, but L'Manburg was new and fresh again, with the help of Tubbo's new cabinet of trusted people L'Manburg was peaceful again. Tubbo had made you apart of his cabinet as well as Quackity, Fundy, Tommy and Karl. It was a new beginning.

There were days where you wondered if Wilbur would get a funeral. Schlatt had gotton a funeral, but you saw first hand how that went it wasnt a somber moment at all. It was for the best, they had mixed feelings about Wilbur and you dont blame them.

You had a new family, but there were things unkown to you, things that are being created out of your knowledge and that scared you. We have new L'manburg, but it isnt the same you dont know how long Tubbo could uphold peace in this new kingdom.

New things were created from the end of a old one.

It was a peaceful day in L'Manburg just as Tubbo promised the new citizens. You had stayed busy the whole day until a certian blonde came around your house frantically urging you to get outside and follow him

"C'mon! Just follow me! I have something to show you!"

"Tommy what are you talking about?!"

"Its VERY important, hurry! I dont want him to leave that spot."

Tommy had dragged you by the arm to the pier that evening and kept chanting that he had to show you something of utmost importance. You were trying to ask questions and keep up with his pace as he weaved through buildings claiming they were a "shortcut". Tommy stopped you at the pier and stood to your side, he was looking back and forth at the end of the pier to the water and back to you again.

You were about to ask why you were there until you saw a familiar man.

"Oh! Hello! Tommy who is this?"

He was pale, no, he was transparent. He looked pale, the sunset's dull rays made it seem like he still had skin. He had a yellow sweater on with brown pants and black shoes. He looked comfortable, he looked free. Next to his side there was a sheep on a leash with blue dye, you noticed it was poorly dyed too the dye was dripping from its wool. It was Wilbur, physically, but it wasn't HIM.

"He's Ghostbur." Tommy whispered to you while he stood between you two.

"Yes, I'm Ghostbur!" The ghost cheerfully said.

"This- this is y/n. Dont you remember?" Tommy cautiously asked Ghostbur.

Ghostbur had a look of confusion and curiosity on his face. He seemed so pure compared to when he was alive.

"No..I can't, but I would love to know." He stuck out his hand in a greeting.

"Hi I'm ghostbur!"

"I'm y/n." You said lowly.

You tried to reach out and grab his hand but it went straight through. You hated it, he's gone and you couldn't bring him back. It isn't him, but Ghostbur maybe better, Wilbur is gone and thats okay. Something came out of nothing, you kept telling yourself that everything was okay, but now seeing Ghostbur so naive and pure and free of the world's weight you believed everything would be fine.

"Im sorry. Im transparent, and I have no flesh." Ghostbur smiled.

"That's fine." You paused looking for the right words. "Do you know what you did? To L'Manburg?"

"Believe me, he dosen't. I tried." Tommy said to you.

"I couldn't belive I would do such a thing." Ghostbur added on.

"He shares no memories of Wilbur. Basically a new person." Tommy continued.

"That's great." You perked up. "It's bittersweet ya know. But Im happy you're here Ghostbur!"

"Im happy I'm here too, and Im happy I met you today." Ghostbur smiled at you while his sheep walked towards you, he unknowingly rubbed up against you putting blue dye on your clothes.

"Oh! This is Friend! I forgot to mention him to you. You can pet him!"

You didnt want to. He was dripping with dye, but you did it to appease Ghostbur. Tommy cringed while you petted the slightly wet, blue sheep. Once you were done your hand was blue, you rubbed it on your clothes that were already blue.

"I think he likes you." Ghostbur cheerfully said.

You were so thankful for Tommy bringing you to that pier. It was the closure you needed to move on and focus on building a new life for all of you. A peaceful life, but it seemed too good to be true. Days went by like normal and that sometimes was too much for you. You worked on new buildings and worked with Tubbo's cabinet too, that was a new normality for you.

The unknown scared you, but you had your family here. You had made amends with them and now and this is what you wanted. But then again it all seemed too good to be true.

Nobody had told you anything, you weren't in cabinet meetings, nor around Tubbo or Tommy. You felt shut out, you felt sick. The cabinet had decided to do something about Tommy and Dream started to become involved in Tommy's predicament. Soon after Tommy was in court, stripped away of his vice presidency, and had been put on probation.

Tubbo had come to you about Tommy being exiled. There was a huge meeting with the cabient and Dream about that situation and you had stayed silent the whole time. You wanted what was best for L'Manburg, but Tommy was like a brother to you, you couldn't send him away to fend for himself. You could see the confliction on Tubbo's face as he was going through the same dilemma as you were.

In the end Dream gave Tubboo 3 days to chose if to exile Tommy or not.

Tubbo had talked to you about the situation before the second day came. You two were in the same boat when it came to exiling him. You two had came to a conclusion, Tubbo just had to talk with the rest of his cabinent for a final conclusion.

The second day came and the plan switched immediately when Tommy came and introduced it. He wanted to fight back against Dream, of course he did, but he wanted another man to come and help. They wanted Technoblade to join their revolt. Quackity and Fundy agreed with the idea, but Tubbo was more cautious. You hated it.

Technoblade wasn't a subject nor person you wanted to be associated with ever since that night in Pogtopia. After all this time you had forgotten about him, you had forgotten your failed attempt at rekindling your friendship until now.

Tubbo was cautious, but you were 100% against it. Tubbo agreed with the rest of the cabinet and Tommy. They eventually asked you, and of course you said no, but it didn't matter, majority rules in this case.

You all approched Dream intop of the obsidian walls with your final decision.

"We have come to a decision. Look around." Tubbk leaded.

"There's giant, obsidian walls." Dream answered calmly.

"There is, there is Dream. And that's a problem, okay? This is funny actually." Tubbo turned back to Tommy. "Tommy, I am- I am so sorry."

Tubbo continues to talk to Dream. "I have come to the decision, that it'll be better for the nation the most logical thing to do is for Tommy to be exiled from L'Manburg."

"What?"

"Tubbo?!"

"Teaming up with Technoblade is an awful idea! It's an awful idea!"

Oh thank goodness.

"We just had this conversation!" Fundy yelled.

"No! No! Okay?! Nothing! Involving any kind of conflict is not safe for this nation! You've undermined my authority from the get go! Okay! All of you! No one here has respected me. You all jump on these merry little bandwagons of destruction. It's not okay!"

Tubbo was livid. His face was turning red and will keep doing so if he kept yelling. You felt a familiar breeze beside you as you saw Ghostbur standing next to you and behind Tommy. He smiled at you and continued yo listen to Tubbo's angry speech. You wondered why he was here, why he showed up at times and then left. Like he only needed to listen and not give any input.

"You cant go back on the plan now?! What the hell?!" Tommy yelled.

"When I was sworn in I made a promise to do what was best for the nation. And right now, Tommy you, your presence here is not the best for his nation."

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you think ghostbur noticed. You were happy that you didnt need to see Technoblade again, but you were going to lose what you would call a brother. You started to backtrack on your final decision, you belived Tubbo was in thr right. Tubbo wanted what was best for L'Manburg and what was best for L'Manburg was for Tommy to be exiled. You wished there was another way, but you know Tommy was stubborn it wouldn't work that easy.

Your mind kept wandering to if Tubbo decided to team with Technoblade. He was right there would be destruction, a huge war and probably the end of L'Manburg. You didn't want that again, you didn't want to see him again. You couldn't help but wonder if he knew L'Manburg was brand new.

"Dream, please detain and escort Tommy out of my country."

Tommy was gone. Its been weeks, four weeks to be exact. L'Manburg was peaceful, everywhere was peaceful, but you had to admit that you missed him. Fundy and Quackity tried to convince Tubbo to bring Tommy back, but he already made up his mind. He was confident in his decision, you were proud he was ruling L'Manburg confidently, but everyone was weary.

You haven't seen Ghostbur around either, he must've been floating around somewhere. It's none of your business.

The walls have been taken down and L'Manburg was independent again. There were sacrifices to be made. There were a lot of sacrifices to be made to keep L'Manburg up, and you kept asking yourself if everything was worth it. Was the discs worth that much to Tommy? Was L'Manburg even a good choice to begin with?

Was Technoblade right?

The Butcher Gang. They were calling themselves The Butcher Gang. The cabinet had several meeting and came ti the decisions that the biggest problems in L'Manburg were Technoblade and Dream. The cabinet decided not to kill Dream because of the fact that he was allies with L'Manburg, so they decided to try and kill Technoblade.

Dumbasses. You've mentioned to Tubbo that he was a very, very, very dangerous man. Tubbo has seen him before! You asked Tubbo constantly why did he wants to kill him when he says that he didn't want to team up with him. Tubbo said it was for the better of L'Manburg, but dosent he know that might cause even more trouble?

You didnt want to join them, you couldn't risk your life for something that is impossible to achieve. You separated from the cabinet, you couldn't watch them do this and you tried to stop them, but they insisted on the act.

Lately you've seen more of Ghostbur and that made you happy. It made you happy he wanted to spend time with you and it made you forget the trouble brewing in the cabinet.

"What's wrong?" Ghostbur asked while sitting on the edge of the pier with you, and Friend who was tied to one of the pier's poles.

"It's nothing Ghostbur." You said with a sigh.

"Good!" He cheerfully said.

"Can I actually tel you something?" You asked again, you wanted to get this off of your chest.

"Of course." He smiled.

You sighed and then began to speak as you looked out to the water. "It's the cabinet, its Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity that's the problem."

"But they are wonderful people! What can they do wrong?" Ghostbur suddenly asked.

"They want to kill someone, Ghostbur."

"Maybe it was a misunderstanding."

"I dont- I dont think so." You hung your head looking at your feet.

"Ghostbur, they want to kill Technoblade and I dont-"

"Technoblade?! That's my friend! Why- why would they want to kill him?"

Your heart felt heavy at his words. Another point not to kill Technoblade, you didn't want Ghostbur to hurt, not like Wilbur.

"He was a friend of mine too once. When L'Manburg first got blown up he- we betrayed L'Manburg and then spawned 3 wither skeletons to destroy the rest of the citizens." You explained to Ghostbur's disrught face.

"You wouldn't do that! You're kind!" Ghostbur exclaimed.

"It wasn't my best decision Ghostbur. People can make bad mistakes. A lot of people do. They aren't pure like you." You smiled softly at him.

A long hush fell over the two of you until Ghostbur perked up.

"We need to save Technoblade!" He exclaimed.

"Ghostbur I cant do that."

"Why not?"

"Because me and Techno aren't friends anymore." You said sadly.

"Why not?"

You couldn't answer that. You can, you can give the right answer, but at this moment you couldnt tell the ghost who suddenly stood up next to you.

"If I take you to where Technoblade lives will you feel better?" Ghostbur asked with Friend's leash in his hands.

Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity didnt know where Technoblade lives and desperately wanted to know to kill him. Maybe this was a good idea. You tried to convince yourself that as you walked side by side with Ghostbur. You had followed him through the woods as he weaved in and out of the trees. Friend was following Ghostbur as well, he wouldn't let Friend stay anywhere out of his sight.

You were getting special treatment, you were about to find out where Technoblade lived before The Butcher Gang would. Would you be considered a traitor again? Tubbo wouldn't want you back in the cabinet if you knew where Technoblade lived and you didnt tell him.

The atmosphere got colder as you two ventured on, you didnt know he would retreat all the way out here. It was snowing and you didn't bring any type of warm clothing considering L'Manburg was rather warm. Ghostbur had no problem, neither did Friend. Luckily you saw a light in the dark woods. It was further away, but you could see the light expand as you two treaded over towards it.

"That's the house!" Ghostbur pointed too.

You two reached the end of the woods and before you was an opening. There was blanket of white snow everywhere, there were footprints in the snow, but they were being covered by the falling snow above you. It was a valley and the only thing there was a beautiful wooden house. It was errie, the only civilization here was was Technoblade who lived in the house.

"It's pretty lonely." You said still cautious of the situation.

"Yeah it's sad, but we're here and it's okay!" Ghostbur said.

"Sure." You whispered as Ghostbur continues to lead the way.

You two got closer and closer to the house and you continued to try and back out. It's too late to do so now, you didnt even feel like walking back to L'Manburg after you confront Technoblade again. The two of you were heading up to his door, your heart was beating heavier as you got to his door. You brought your fist up to knock on the door, hopefully he was home because you were freezing cold. You harshly knocked on his door and awaited for his response.

You two waited for a while, but no one was opening the door.

"Ghostbur why don't you go inside?"

"I'll just peak my head in!" He answered and did so. His head phased through the door and then he came back out with a frown on his face. "No one is in there."

"Why did we come here?" You sulked and started to turn away from the door.

"Why the hell are you two here at night?!"

"Oh! Techno! Hi!"

Shit. You were looking into his eyes and you froze when he turned to you. This was the first time you've seen him in years ever since Pogtopia, you hated it. It was embarrassing you tried to become friends long ago, but that failed, and now you were here again. He probably saw you as desperate, coming back to him after betraying him.

"Hello Ghostbur. How are you?" Technoblade walked in between the two of you opening the door to his house. When he walked in he intentionally left the door open for you and Ghostbur. Luckily it was warmer inside and you welcomed it.

"Im good! But we are here for you." Ghostbur cheerfully said.

"Oh really?" Technoblade said while occupying himself with something else, not even bothering to look at the two of you standing awkwardly at his closed door.

"Yeah, Y/N tell him!" Ghostbur urged you on.

You paused for a second before speaking to Technoblade, who wasnt even paying attention. "There's these people called the Butcher Gang."

"Sounds stupid."

"Yeah it is. And they want you."

Techno scoffed. "Want me for what?"

You knew Technoblade was smarter than this. He was bouncing around the room not even sparing a glance towards you. He wasn't paying attention.

"They want to kill you Technoblade."

He stopped all of his movements, stood up to his full height and looked towards you and Ghostbur for the first time you've been in his house.

"You better not be screwing with me."

"Why would I?!" You got offended by his statement.

"I dont know, because you show up to my house out of nowhere and tell me that people are trying to kill me. This could be a setup! I cant trust-"

"Okay! The Butcher Gang is Tubbo, Quackity and Fundy. Thats all I know of who's in the group. They want to kill you because you are a threat to L'Manburg. Trust me!" You cut him off and explained.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Technoblade asked you.

"Dont kill them, but I wanted to warn you. They are being reckless and since you're out here they shouldn't bother you. They're looking for more trouble, Tubbo already has a lot on his plate, this isn't a good idea for you nor L'Manburg."

You finished your statement still weary of this whole situation. You hated being in this situation, Techno's presence didn't make you uncomfortable it was just seeing him and warning him of future danger. You two weren't even considered close, why were you here? You were here for L'Manburg.

"Okay. I'll try. No promises though." Techno smirked and continued doing whatever task he was doing.

You found somewhere to sit for the time being knowing that you two wouldn't talk. Looking around the room you realized that Friend was alone inside the house without Ghostbur. You looked outside and saw him walking from the woods again in a rushed pace. You didn't know he left, he phased back into the house.

"They say they're gonna kill you. Y/n was right." Ghostbur says.

"Were you two leading them to my house?!"

"No."

"No we didn't! We didn't even know they were coming today!" You stood up looking out the window in search of Tubbo and the rest of them.

"Ghostbur who was with them?" You asked as Techno ran around the rooms for weapons and armor.

"Um, Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity..Oh! And Ranboo."

"Ranboo?!" That poor kid. What is he doing?

"Eventhough I hate to say this. I don't trust you. Get out." Technoblade paused infront of you before rushing to the other room. "And tell them I'm not home!"

"And if that dosent work?!" You yelled back.

"Then to hell with them!"

You rushed outside with Ghostbur, hoping that the Butcher Gang dosen't notice you were leaving Technoblade's house. It was too late, they were already lined up outside with full netherite armor and gear.

"Y/n?!"

"Wait what are you doing here?" Tubbo asked as you made your way towards them.

"Im- I wanted to try and rekindle mine and Technoblade's relationship." You used an old lie to get yourself out of this situation. This was an already bad look on you, hopefully your lie would work.

"I thought your friendship ended a long time ago?" Tubbo asked again.

"It did, but I wanted to try again." This was embarrassing, now you really seem desperate.

"I see, then move out of our way." Tubbo asked you harshly.

"Uh- hey." Technoblade came out of his house with full netherite too, you weren't protected, so you will have to stay out of the way.

"Why have you guys come all the way over here to my humble abode?" Technoblade started walking towards his stable where he kelt his horse. He tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to work. As he moved you moved with him trying not to be inbetween the dangerous men with swords and enchanted armor.

"You need to pay for your war crimes." Tubbo said while following Technoblade.

"That was like- that's in the past! Alright, that was a different Technoblade. Im a changed man now! Im in retirement! Im a good person now Tubbo!" Technoblade dragged on as Tubbo just hummed in response.

Quackity spoke up. "Technoblade you exploded L'Manburg with fucking withers."

"You literally spawned Withers everywhere!" Tubbo exclaimed.

"Im sorry, Im sorry Technoblade as much as you changed you have to be brought to justice for that." Quackity interrupted Tubbo.

The Butcher Gang tried to speak to Technoblade at the same time, when Technoblade spoke up over them all.

"Listen guys! I've gone through so much effort over the past month to change my violent ways! I've reformed alright? The voices, they demand blood! And I- I have been denying THEM! Ive been fighting back! Please! Please dont make me kill all of you, please just leave."

You guess he has changed, but you knew somewhere in your mind that he wasn't talking about just the Butcher Gang, he was including you too. You were somewhat confident that you wouldn't be attacked or killed, but you were terribly wrong before.

There was back and forth banter between the two of them. Techno had tried to show the gang his bees and tried to make a run for it.

"Techno!"

"Hey!"

"He's running!"

The gang started running towards him, but instead of continuing he stopped and turned to them. You were trailing behind trying to catch up to them, you kept running after them. You were not equipped for this night, you didn't know Ghostbur was going to bring you out in the open cold. You could hear Ghostbur behind you as you continued to run towards them.

"Y/N you're gonna damage yourself!" Ghostbur's voice became more echoed and further away as you tried to get closer to the gang before they got killed.

"There's no other way."

"Tubbo dont be stupid!" You were right behind the Butcher Gang.

"There's no other way!"

Fuck

"I CHOSE BLOOD!"

A cloud of smoke enveloped the 6 of you and you suddenly could see. You could only see the glint of everyone's armor.

"Y/N get behind us!" Tubbo tried to blocked you off from reaching Technoblade.

"Why didn't you bring any armor?!" Quackity yelled.

"I didn't think i was gonna be fucking out here!"

Technoblade must've set off multiple smoke bombs because the smoke wouldn't stop, the smoke made you woozy, but the others didnt seemed phased by it at all and kept fighting Technoblade. Your lungs felt full, and you felt like passing out, but you wouldn't allow yourself to do so.

"Tubbo stop this!" You yelled out when the smoke cleared a little.

"No! He needs to pay!" He said while fighting with Fundy.

The air was still hazy and you lost sight of people occasionally. Whipping your head around you were met with what felt like the butt of a axe. You quickly saw a split second of a shiny axe and then a pain in your chest spiked up. You double back and tried to recover, but then you've been sliced in the thigh and a deep cut in your side taking you down to the ground. You were bleeding out and desperately trying to heal the wound in your side. You felt your consciousness slowly slip from you as you laid on the snow. The warm contrast of your blood compared to the cold snow was sad. You always get hurt, no matter what you do. It's inevitable, and you finally gotten used to it.

The last thing you heard was yelling, but it slowly faded out.

You were warm, and not in the middle of nowhere anymore. You opened your eyes to see yourself staring at a polished wood ceiling, the soft pillows and blankets around you made everything feel so much better. Your whole body hurts, you dont want to move nor do you want to remember. Thank goodness that someone had patched you up, you didn't want to die. You tried shifting your body but the pain in your side was denying any movement.

"Oh! You're awake thank God!" A voice called out from your side. You looked over to see the half human hafl enderman sitting in a chair by a window. "I thought you weren't gonna wake up! Tubbo and the rest if the cabinet was worried as well."

"Were you the one who patched me up?" You asked carefully.

"Yeah! Luckily I can see in that fog, so I took you away and patched you up." Ranboo smiled.

"Who- who hit me?" You asked trying to sit up again.

Ranboo paused. "Technoblade." Ranboo said in a somber tone.

"I see." You sighed.

Ranboo helped you sit back on the headboard of the bed and you two continued to talk.

"Are you mad at him?"

"Im just upset. Its okay, he said he'll kill all of us so I knew he would." You kept your gaze at you lap.

"Yeah I get it." Ranboo replied.

"I have a question ranboo!" You perked up.

"Yeah? Shoot."

"Why did you join the Butcher Gang?" You asked the taller man. He stayed silent thinking of a right answer before actually speaking.

"They were nice to me. I trust people who are nice to me, that show me kindness and treat me with respect. I know its lame, my answer isn't fully fleshed out, but that's the reason." Ranboo shrugged and you nodded.

You would love to know Ranboo more, he seems like a great guy, but he's just lost.

"Oh! I forgot! You have a letter!" Ranboo walked around the bed and brought out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.

You unfolded it and began to read.

𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

- 𝘋

"Execution site?" You looked towards Ranboo.

"Oh yeah! Technoblade's execution is today an-"

"How the hell did you get him?!" You interrupted him. "Im sorry."

Ranboo looked shocked before composing himself. "Dont worry! Well, we took his horse hostage and he immediately wanted to surrender if we didn't let Carl go." Ranboo gathered stuff around the room. "And the execution is today, happening in a few minutes and I need to be there. I'll be back soon to check up on you!"

You nodded and continued to listen to him.

"Are- are you coming?" Ranboo sent one last glance towards you before making his way out.

"You know you dont HAVE to go." You said trying to ease the tension.

"I know. I really do know." He sighed. "Are you sure you dont want to?"

"No, Im okay." You sent him a smile.

You had lied again. Of course you didn't want to see Technoblade get killed, but that note that was left made you go to the cave. You trudged you way up to said cave, even though the pain in your side was unbearable you continued on. Once you had gotton up to the cave, you peaked inside cautiously. You saw a man in a cloak with a familiar mask on with Technoblade's horse. You knew it was Dream.

"Hello."

"Hello Dream."

"I will cut right to the chase. Take Carl and wait here. I have other work to do." He handed you the reigns to Carl and started to leave.

"Excuse me!? What do I do? Why do I wait here?!" You yelled after him and he just waved you off.

You rolled your eyes and found a stone in the cave to rest against with Carl's reigns lazily in your hands.

You didnt know what time it was, but the sun was slowly going down, it wasn't particularly sunset, but you knew it was late. Your eyes began to close until your heard screaming in the distance. You sat up slowly, now fully alert. You held Carl's reigns tighter as you backed into the cave more and more.

Footsteps were heard in the distance coming up to the cave and you thought if Dream had set you up for failure. The footsteps grew louder until a panting Technoblade appeared at the entrance at the cave. He looked horrible, he was thinking the same thing about you.

You two exchanged no words. You didn't want to say anything, what would you even say? He rushed over to Carl and started petting him. "Carl you're okay!"

You hummed as you and Techno shared a glance. He smiled at you. He smiled at you. It's been so long since you've seen him smile. He didn't need words to communicate, his eyes and smile said enough. You matched his smile and gave him a knowing nod and he did the same.

"Feel better eh?" Technoblade started conversation.

"Not really. What about you?"

"Eh- used a totem of undying just now."

"What?! Really?" You exclaimed. "I guess that's why you're here now huh?"

"Yeah I'll tell you about it sometimes." He smiled and climbed atop of his horse and you could see him thinking. "Im sorry too. You almost died cause of me. Thats is unacceptable, I shouldn't- I shouldn't have attacked you. I couldn't-"

"You cant control it. It's gonna take me awhile to recover, but..." You touched your bandaged cut. "It'll take me some time."

Technoblade nodded knowing what you meant. He could always read your mind somehow, thats what made you two work. Knowing eachother. He sent you one last silent goodbye before riding out of the cave. You knew that trust was somewhat restored, and that you two were better than before. This might be a new beginning.

A very angry Quackity came running around the corner of the cave and spotted you leaving. He whipped his head around to you.

"Hey! Where the fuck is Techno?!" He yelled at you.

"I don't know-"

"Dont bullshit me!"

"I. Don't. Know." You said more sternly. He gave you a hard glare before running away.

You went the opposite way trying to make it back to the room you woke up in before Ranboo came back.

Earlier you were desperately trying to befriend Techno, but things come more naturally you learned. You cant rush things, nor control this world. Things will fall into place, your and Technoblade's friendship will blossom again.

You will never find peace, but that's okay. You should be used to it by now. Everything is chaotic, but everything will be okay.

225 notes · View notes

laurasimonsdaughter · 3 years ago

Text

The Counterfeit Marquise

A literary fairy tale published in 1697, presumably by Charles Perrault and François-Timoléon De Choisy (who spent a considerable amount of his life in drag, just like the protagonists of this story).

Translated by Ranjit Bolt, featured in Warner’s Wonder tales: six stories of enchantment (1996).

Cw: gender disphoria.

The Marquis de Banneville had been married barely six months to a beautiful and highly intelligent young heiress when he was killed in battle at Saint-Denis. His widow was profoundly affected. They had still been very much in love and no domestic quarrels had disturbed their happiness. She did not allow herself an excess of grief. With none of the usual lamentations, she withdrew to one of her country houses to weep at her leisure, without constraint or ostentation. But no sooner had she arrived than it was pointed out to her, on the basis of irrefutable evidence, that she was carrying a child. At first she rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a little replica of the man she had loved so much. She was careful to preserve her husband’s precious remains, and took every possible step to keep his memory alive. Her pregnancy was very easy, but as her time drew near she was tormented by a host of anxieties. She pictured a soldier’s gruesome death in its full horror. She imagined the same fate for the child she was expecting and, unable to reconcile herself to such a distressing idea, prayed a thousand times to heaven to send her a daughter who, by virtue of her sex, would be spared so cruel a fate. She did more: she made up her mind that, if nature did not answer her wishes, she would correct her. She took all the necessary precautions and made the midwife promise to announce to the world the birth of a girl, even if it was a boy.

Thanks to these measures the business was effected smoothly. Money settles everything. The marquise was absolute mistress in her château and word soon spread that she had given birth to a girl, though the child was actually a boy. It was taken to the curé who, in good faith, christened it Marianne. The wet nurse was also won over. She brought little Marianne up and subsequently became her governess. She was taught everything a girl of noble birth should know: dancing; music; the harpsichord. She grasped everything with such precocity her mother had no choice but to have her taught languages, history, even modern philosophy. There was no danger of so many subjects becoming confused in a mind where everything was arranged with such remarkable orderliness. And what was extraordinary, not to say delightful, was that so fine a mind should be found in the body of an angel. At twelve her figure was already formed. True, she had been a little constricted from infancy with an iron corset, to widen her hips and lift her bosom. But this had been a complete success and (though I shall not describe her until her first journey to Paris) she was already a very beautiful girl. She lived in blissful ignorance, quite unaware that she was not a girl. She was known in the province as la belle Marianne. All the minor gentry roundabout came to pay court to her, believing she was a rich heiress. She listened to them all and answered their gallantries with great wit and frankness. My heart, she said to her mother one day, isn’t made for provincials. If I receive them kindly it’s because I want to please people.

Be careful, my child, said the marquise: you’re talking like a coquette.

Ah, maman, she answered, let them come. Let them love me as much as they like. Why should you worry as long as I don’t love them?

The marquise was delighted to hear this, and gave her complete licence with these young men who, in any case, never strayed beyond the bounds of decorum. She knew the truth and so feared no consequences. La belle Marianne would study till noon and spend the rest of the day at her toilette.

After devoting the whole morning to my mind, she would say gaily, It’s only right to give the afternoon to my eyes, my mouth, all this little body of mine.

Indeed, she did not begin dressing till four. Her suitors would usually have gathered by then, and would take pleasure in watching her toilette. Her chambermaids would do her hair, but she would always add some new embellishment herself. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in great curls. The fire in her eyes and the freshness of her complexion were quite dazzling, and all this beauty was animated and enhanced by the thousand charming remarks that poured continually from the prettiest mouth in the world. All the young men around her adored her, nor did she miss any opportunity to increase that adoration. She would herself, with exquisite grace, put pendants in her ears – either of pearls, rubies or diamonds – all of which suited her to perfection. She wore beauty spots, preferably so tiny that one could barely see them with the naked eye and, if her complexion had not been so delicate and fine, could not have seen them at all. When putting them on she made a great show of consulting now one suitor, now another, as to which would suit her best. Her mother was overjoyed and kept congratulating herself on her ingenuity. He is twelve years old, she would say to herself under her breath. Soon I should have had to think about sending him to the Military Academy, and in two years he would have followed his poor father. Whereupon, transported with affection, she would go and kiss her darling daughter, and would let her indulge in all the coquetries that she would have condemned in anyone else’s child.

This is how matters stood when the Marquise de Banneville was obliged to go to Paris to deal with a lawsuit that one of her neighbours had taken out against her. Naturally she took her daughter with her, and soon realised that a pretty young girl can be useful when it comes to making petitions. The first person she went to see was her old friend the Comtesse d’Alettef,11 to ask for her advice and her protection for her daughter. The comtesse was struck by Marianne’s beauty and so enjoyed kissing her that she did so several times. She took on herself the task of chaperoning her, and looked after her when her mother was busy with her suit, promising to keep her amused. Marianne could not have fallen into better hands. The comtesse was born to enjoy life. She had managed to separate herself from an inconvenient husband. Not that he lacked qualities (he loved pleasure as much as she did) but since they could not agree in their choice of pleasures, they had the good sense not to get in one another’s way and each followed their own inclinations. The comtesse, though not young any more, was beautiful. But the desire for lovers had given way to the desire for money, and gambling was now her chief passion. She took Marianne everywhere, and everywhere she was received with delight.

Meanwhile, the Marquise de Banneville slept easily. She was well aware of the comtesse’s somewhat dubious reputation, and would never have trusted her with a real daughter. But quite apart from the fact that Marianne had been brought up with a strong sense of virtue, the marquise wanted a little amusement and so left her to her own devices, merely telling her that she was entering a scene very different from that of the provinces; that she would encounter passionate, devoted lovers at every turn; that she must not believe them too readily; that if she felt herself giving way she was to come and tell her everything; and that in future she would look on her as a friend rather than a daughter, and give her such advice as she herself might take.

Marianne, whom people were starting to call the little marquise, promised her mother that she would disclose all her feelings to her and, relying on past experience, believed herself a match for the gallantry of the French court. This was a bold undertaking thirty years ago. Magnificent dresses were made for her; all the newest fashions tried on her. The comtesse, who presided over all this, saw to it that her hair was dressed by Mlle de Canillac. She had only some child’s earrings and a few jewels; her mother gave her all hers, which were of poor workmanship, and managed at relatively little expense to have two pairs of diamond pendants made for her ears, and five or six crisping pins for her hair. These were all the ornaments she needed. The comtesse would send her carriage for her immediately after dinner and take her to the theatre, the opera, or the gaming houses. She was universally admired. Wives and daughters never tired of caressing her, and the loveliest of them heard her beauty praised without a hint of jealousy. A certain hidden charm, which they felt but did not understand, attracted them to her and forced them to pay homage where homage was due. Everyone succumbed to her spell and her wit, which was even more irresistible than her beauty, won her more certain and lasting conquests. The first thing that captivated them was the dazzling whiteness of her complexion. The bloom in her cheeks, forever appearing and reappearing, never ceased to amaze them. Her eyes were blue and as lively as one could wish; they flashed from beneath two heavy lids that made their glances more tender and languishing. Her face was oval-shaped and her scarlet lips, which protruded slightly, would break – even when she spoke with the utmost seriousness – into a dozen delightful creases, and into a dozen even more delightful when she laughed. This exterior – so charming in itself – was enhanced by all that a good education can add to an excellent nature. There was a radiance, a modesty in the little marquise’s countenance that inspired respect. She had a sense of occasion: she always wore a cap when she went to church, never a beauty spot – avoiding the ostentation cultivated by most women. At Mass, she would say, One prays to God; at balls one dances; and one must do both with total commitment.

She had been leading a most agreeable life for three months when Carnival came round. All the princes and officers had returned from camp, and everywhere entertainments were being held again. Everyone was giving parties and there was a great ball at the Palais Royal. The comtesse, who was too old to show her face on such occasions, decided to go masked and took the little marquise with her. She was dressed as a shepherdess in an extremely simple but becoming costume. Her hair, which hung down to her waist, was tied up in great curls with pink ribbons – no pearls, no diamonds, only a beautiful cap. She had dressed herself, but even so all eyes were fixed on her. That night her beauty was triumphant.

The handsome Prince Sionad was there, dressed as a woman – a rival to the fair sex who, in the opinion of connoisseurs, took first prize for beauty. On arriving at the ball the comtesse decided to go and sit behind the lovely Sionad. Chère princesse, she said as she drew near and introduced the little marquise, here is a young shepherdess you should find worth looking at. Marianne approached respectfully and wanted to kiss the hem of the prince’s dress (or should I say the princess’s) but he lifted her up, embraced her tenderly and cried delightedly: What a lovely girl! What fine features! What a smile! What delicacy! And if I’m not mistaken, she is as clever as she is beautiful.

The little marquise had responded only with a bashful smile when a young prince came up and claimed her for a dance. At first all eyes were fixed on him, owing to his rank. But when people saw her answering his questions without awkwardness or embarrassment; saw what a feel she had for the music; how gracefully she moved; her little jumps in time; her smiles, subtle without being malicious and the fresh glow that vigorous exercise brought to her face, total silence, as at a concert, descended on the hall. The violinists found to their delight that they could hear themselves play, and everyone seemed intent on watching and wondering at her. The dance ended with applause, little of it for the prince, popular though he was.

The acclaim that the little marquise had received at the Palais Royal ball greatly increased the comtesse’s affection and concern for her. She could no longer do without her and she offered her rooms in her house, so that she could enjoy her company at her leisure. But on no account would her mother agree to this. The little marquise was almost fourteen and, if the secret of her birth was to be kept, it was vital that no one should be on intimate terms with her except her governess, who got her up and saw her into bed. She was still quite ignorant of her situation and, though she had many admirers, felt nothing for them. She cared for nothing and no one but herself and her appearance. People spoke to her of nothing else. She drank down this delicious praise in long draughts and thought herself the most beautiful person in the world; the more so since her mirror swore to her every day that the praise was justified.

One day she was at the theatre, in the first tier, when she noticed a beautiful young man in the next box. He wore a scarlet doublet embroidered with gold and silver, but what fascinated her were his dazzling diamond earrings and three or four beauty spots. She watched him intently and found his countenance so sweet and amiable that she could not contain herself, and said to the comtesse: Madame, look at that young man! Isn’t he handsome! Indeed, said the comtesse, but he is too conscious of his looks, and that is not becoming in a man. He might as well dress as a girl.

The performance went on and they said nothing more, but the little marquise often turned her head, no longer able to concentrate on the play, which was The Feign’d Alcibiades. Some days later she was at the theatre again in the third tier. The same young man, who drew such attention to himself with his extraordinary adornments, was in the second tier. He watched the little marquise at his leisure, as fascinated by her as she had been by him on the previous occasion, but less restrained. He kept turning his back on the actors, unable to take his eyes off her and she, for her part, responded in a manner less than consistent with the dictates of modesty. She felt in this exchange of looks something she had never experienced before: a certain joy at once subtle and profound, which passes from the eyes to the heart and constitutes the only real happiness in life. At last the play ended and, while they waited for the afterpiece, the beautiful young man left his box and went to ask the little marquise’s name. The porters, who saw her often, were happy to oblige him; they even told him where she lived. He now saw that she was of noble birth and decided, if possible, to make her acquaintance, even if he went no further. He resolved (love being ingenious) to enter her box by accident.

Ah, madame, he cried, I beg your pardon: I thought this was my box. The Marquise de Banneville loved intrigue and made the most of this one. Monsieur, she said to him with great frankness, we are indeed fortunate in your mistake: a man as handsome as you is welcome anywhere.

She hoped in this way to detain him so that she could look at him at her leisure; examine him and his adornments; please her daughter (whose feelings she had already detected) and, in a word, have some harmless amusement. He hesitated before deciding to remain in the box without taking a seat at the front. They asked him a hundred questions, to which he replied very wittily. His manner and tone of voice had an undeniable charm. The little marquise asked him why he wore pendants in his ears. He replied that he always had: his ears had been pierced when he was a child. As for the rest, they must excuse these little embellishments, normally only suitable for the fair sex, on the grounds of youth.

Everything suits you, monsieur, said the little marquise with a blush. You can wear beauty spots and bracelets as far as we’re concerned. You wouldn’t be the first. These days young men are always doing themselves up like girls. The conversation never flagged. When the afterpiece was over he conducted the ladies to their coach and had his follow it as far as the marquise’s house where, not daring to enter, he sent a page to present his compliments.

During the days that followed they saw him everywhere: in church; in the park; at the opera and the theatre. He was always unassuming, always respectful. He would bow low to the little marquise, not daring to approach or speak to her. He seemed to have but one object, and wasted no time in attaining it. Finally, after three weeks, the Marquise de Banneville’s brother (who was a state councillor) called and suggested that she receive a visitor – his good friend and neighbour, the Marquis de Bercour. He assured her that he was an excellent man and brought him round immediately after lunch. The marquis was the handsomest man in the world; his hair was black and arranged in thick, natural-looking curls. It was cut in line with the ears so that his diamond earrings could be seen. On this particular day he had attached to each of these a pearl. He also wore two or three beauty spots (no more) to emphasise his fine complexion.

Ah, brother, said the marquise, is this the Marquis de Bercour? Yes, madame, replied the marquis, and he cannot live any longer without seeing the loveliest girl in the world.

As he said this he turned towards the little marquise, who was beside herself with joy. They sat and talked, exchanging news, discussing amusements and new books. The little marquise was a versatile conversationalist, and they were soon at ease with one another. The old councillor was the first to leave, the marquis the last, having remained as long as he felt he could.

After this he never missed an opportunity of paying court to the girl he loved, and always made sure that everything was perfect. When the good weather came and they went out walking to Vincennes or in the Bois, they would find a magnificent collation, which seemed to have been brought there by magic, at a place specially chosen in the shade of some trees. One day there would be violins; the next oboes. The marquis had apparently given no instructions, yet it was obvious that he had arranged everything. Nevertheless, it took several days to guess who had given the little marquise a magnificent present. One morning a carrier brought a chest to her house which he said was from the Comtesse Alettef. She opened it eagerly and was delighted to find in it gloves, scents, pomades, perfumed oils, gold boxes, little toilet cases, more than a dozen snuff boxes in different styles, and countless other treasures. The little marquise wanted to thank the comtesse, who had no idea what she was talking about. She found out in the end, but reproached herself more than once for not having guessed at once.

These little attentions advanced the marquis’s cause considerably. The little marquise greatly appreciated them. Madame, she said to her mother with admirable honesty, I no longer know where I am. Once I wanted to be beautiful in everyone’s eyes; now the only person I want to find me beautiful is the marquis. I used to love balls, plays, receptions, places where there was a lot of noise. Now I’m tired of all that. My only pleasure in life is to be alone and think about the man I love. He’s coming soon, I whisper to myself. Perhaps he’ll tell me he loves me. Yes, madame, he hasn’t said that yet; hasn’t spoken those wonderful words: I love you, though his eyes and his actions have told me so a hundred times. Then, my child, replied the marquise, I’m very sorry for you. You were happy before you saw the marquis. You enjoyed everyone’s company; everyone loved you and you loved only yourself, your own person, your beauty. You were wholly consumed with the desire to please, and please you did. Why change such a delightful life? Take my advice, my dear child: let your sole concern be to profit from the advantages nature has given you. Be beautiful: you have experienced that joy; is there any other to touch it? To draw everyone’s gaze; to win all hearts; to delight people wherever one goes; to hear oneself praised continually, and not by flatterers; to be loved by all and love only oneself: that, my child, is the height of happiness, and you can enjoy it for a long time. You are a queen, don’t make yourself a slave: you must resist at the outset a passion that is carrying you away in spite of yourself. Now you command, but soon you will obey. Men are fickle: the marquis loves you today – tomorrow he will love someone else.

Stop loving me! said the little marquise. Love someone else! And she burst into tears.

Her mother, who loved her dearly, tried to console her and succeeded by telling her that the marquis was coming. There was a lot at stake and this incipient passion caused her considerable alarm. Where will it lead? she asked herself. To what bizarre conclusion. If the marquis declares himself – if he plucks up courage and asks for certain favours – she will refuse him nothing. But then, she reflected, the little marquise has been well trained; she is sensible; at most she will grant such trifling favours as will leave them in ignorance – an ignorance essential to their happiness.

They were talking like this when someone came to tell them that the marquis had sent them a dozen partridges, and that he was at the door, not daring to enter as he had just returned from hunting.

Send him in! cried the little marquise. We want to see him in his hunting clothes. He entered a moment later, all apologies for powder marks, sun burn and a dishevelled wig. No, no, said the little marquise. I assure you, we like you better dressed informally like this than in all your finery. If that is so, madame, he replied, next time you will see me dressed as a stoker.

He remained standing, as though about to leave. They made him sit and the marquise, kind soul, told them to sit together while she went to her study to write. The chambermaids knew what was what and withdrew to the dressing-room, leaving the lovers alone together. They were silent for a while. The little marquise, still flustered after her talk with her mother, scarcely dared raise her eyes, and the marquis, even more embarrassed, looked at her and sighed. There was something tender in this silence. The looks they exchanged, the sighs they could not contain, were for them a form of language – a language lovers often use – and their mutual embarrassment seemed to them a sign of love. The little marquise was the first to awake from this reverie.

You’re dreaming, marquis, she said. What of? Hunting? Ah, beautiful marquise, said the marquis, how lucky hunters are! They are not in love. What do you mean? she rejoined. Is being in love really so terrible? Madame, he replied, it is the greatest happiness in life. But unrequited love is the greatest misfortune. I am in love and it is not requited. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Venus herself would not dare put herself before her. I love her and she does not love me. She has no feelings. She sees me, she listens to me, and she remains cruelly silent. She even turns her eyes away from mine. How heartless! How can I doubt my fate? As he spoke these last words, the marquis knelt down before the little marquise and kissed her hands – nor did she object. Her eyes were lowered and let fall great tears.

Beautiful marquise, he said, you’re crying. You’re crying and I know the reason for your tears. My love is irksome to you. Ah, marquis, she answered with a heavy sigh, one can cry for joy as well as pain. I’ve never been so happy. She said no more and, stretching out her arms to her beloved marquis, granted him the favours she would have denied all the kings of the earth. Caresses were all the protestations of love they needed. The marquis found in the little marquise’s lips a compliance that her eyes had hidden from him, and this conversation would have lasted longer if the marquise had not emerged from her study. She found them laughing and crying at the same time, and wondered whether such tears had ever needed drying.

The marquis immediately rose to leave, but the marquise said to him pleasantly: Monsieur, won’t you stay and dine on the partridges you brought? He needed little persuading. What he desired more than anything else in the world was to be on familiar terms in this house. He stayed, even though he was dressed in hunting clothes, and had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the girl he loved eat. It is one of life’s chief delights. To watch at close quarters a pink mouth that, as it opens, reveals gums of coral and teeth of alabaster; that opens and closes with the rapidity that accompanies all the actions of youth; to see a beautiful face animated by an often repeated pleasure, and to be experiencing the same pleasure at the same time – this is a privilege love grants to few.

After that happy day the marquis made sure he dined there every night. It was a regular affair and the little marquise’s suitors, who had had no cause to be jealous of one another, took it as settled. She had made her choice and they all admitted that beauty and vanity, however powerful, are no defence against love. The Comte d’****, one of her most ardent admirers, had a keen sense that his passion was being made light of. He was handsome, well built, brave, a soldier: he could not allow the little marquise to give herself to the Marquis de Bercour, whom he considered vastly inferior in every respect to himself. He decided to pick a quarrel with him and so disgrace him, thinking him too effeminate to dare cross swords with him. However, to his great surprise, at the first word he uttered when they met at the Porte des Tuileries, the marquis drew his sword and thrust at him with gusto. After a hard-fought duel they were parted by mutual friends.

This adventure pleased the little marquise. It gave her lover a war-like air, though she trembled for him nevertheless. She saw clearly that her beauty and her preference for him would constantly be exposing him to such encounters, and she said to him one day: Marquis, we must put an end to jealousy once and for all; we must silence gossip. We love one another and always will. We must bind ourselves to one another with ties that only death can break.

Ah, beautiful marquise, he said, what are you thinking of? Does our happiness bore you? Marriage, as a rule, puts an end to pleasure. Let us remain as we are. For my part, I am content with your favours and will never ask you for anything more. But I am not content, said the little marquise. I can see clearly that there is something missing in our happiness, and perhaps we will find it when you belong to me entirely, and I to you. It would not be right, replied the marquis, for you to throw in your lot with a younger son who has spent the bulk of his fortune and whom you still know only by appearances, which are often deceptive.

But that’s just what I love about it, she interrupted. I’m so happy that I have enough money for us both, and to have the chance of showing you that I love you and you alone.

They had reached this point when the Marquise de Banneville interrupted them. She had been closeted with her agents, and thought she would refresh herself with some lively young company, but she found them in a deeply serious mood. The marquis had been greatly put out by the little marquise’s proposal. Ostensibly it was very much to his advantage, but he had secret objections to it, which he considered insurmountable. The little marquise, for her part, was a little annoyed at having taken such a bold step in vain, but she soon recovered, deciding that the marquis had refused out of respect for her – or that he wished to prove the depth of his feelings for her. This thought made her decide to speak to her mother about it, and she did so the following day.

No one was ever more astonished than the Marquise de Banneville when her daughter spoke to her of marriage. She was sixteen and no longer a child. Her eyes had not been opened to her situation, and her mother hoped they never would be. She was careful not to agree to the match, but to reveal the truth would have been a painful solution both for her daughter and the marquis. She resolved to do so only as a last resort. Meanwhile she would prevent, or at least postpone, the marriage. The marquis was in agreement with her on this, but the little marquise – passionate creature that she was – begged, entreated, wept, used every means to persuade her mother. She never doubted her lover, since he did not dare oppose her with the same firmness. Finally she pushed her mother to the point where she said these words to her: My dear child, you leave me no choice: against my better judgement I must reveal to you something that I would have given my life to conceal from you. I loved your poor father and when I lost him so tragically, in dread of your meeting the same fate, I prayed with all my heart for a daughter. I was not so fortunate: I gave birth to a son and I have brought him up as a daughter. His sweetness, his inclinations, his beauty, all assisted my plan. I have a son and the whole world believes I have a daughter. Ah, madame! cried the little marquise, is it possible that I …? Yes, my child, said her mother embracing her, you are a boy. I can see how painful this news must be for you. Habit has given you a different nature. You are used to a life very different from the one you might have led. I wanted you to be happy and would never have revealed the sad truth to you if your obstinacy over the marquis had not forced me to. You see now what you were about to do? How, but for me, you would have exposed yourself to public ridicule?

The little marquise did not answer. Instead she merely wept and in vain her mother said to her: But my child, go on living as you were. Be the beautiful little marquise still – loved, adored by all who see her. Love your beautiful marquis if you like, but do not think of marrying him. Alas! cried the little marquise through her tears, he has asked for nothing more. He flies into a rage when I mention marriage. Ah! Could it be that he knows my secret? If I thought that, dear mother, I would go and hide myself in the furthest corner of the earth. Could he know it? In floods of tears now, she added: Alas, poor little marquise, what will you do? Will you dare show your face again and act the beauty? But what have you said? What have you done? What name can one give the favours you have granted the marquis? Blush! Blush, unhappy girl! Ah, nature you are blind: why did you not warn me of my duty? Alas! I acted in good faith, but now I see the truth and I must behave quite differently in future. I must not think about the man I love – I must do what is right.

She was uttering these words with determination when it was announced that the marquis was at the door of the antechamber. He entered with a happy air and was amazed to see both mother and daughter with lowered eyes and in tears. The mother did not wait for him to speak but rose and went to her room. He took courage and said: What’s the matter, beautiful marquise? If something is distressing you, won’t you share it with your friends? What? You won’t even look at me! Am I the cause of this weeping? Am I to blame without knowing it?

The little marquise dissolved in tears. No! No! she cried. No! That could never be, and if it were so I would not feel as I do. Nature is wise and there is a reason for everything she does.

The marquis had no idea what all this meant. He was asking for an explanation when the marquise, who had recovered a little, left her room and came to her daughter’s aid. Look at her, she said to the marquis. As you see, she is quite beside herself. I am to blame. I tried to stop her but she would have her fortune told, and they said she would never marry the man she loved. That has upset her, Monsieur le Marquis, and you know why.

For my part, madame, he replied, I am not at all upset. Let her remain always as she is. I ask only to see her. I shall be more than happy if she will consider me her best friend.

With this the conversation ended. Emotions had been stirred, and would take time to settle. But they settled so completely that after eight days there was no sign of any upheaval. The marquis’s presence, his charm, his caresses, obliterated from the little marquise’s mind everything her mother had told her. She no longer believed any of it, or rather did not wish to believe. Pleasure triumphed over reflection. She lived as she had done before with her lover and felt her passion increase with such violence that thoughts of a lasting union returned to torment her. Yes, she said to herself, he cannot go back on his word now. He will never desert me. She had resolved to speak of it again, when her mother fell ill. Her illness was so grave that after three days all hope of a cure was abandoned. She made her will and sent for her brother, the councillor, whom she appointed the little marquise’s guardian. He was her uncle and her heir, since all the property came from the mother. She confided to him the truth about her daughter’s birth, begging him to take it seriously and to let her lead a life of innocent pleasure that would harm no one and which, since it precluded her marrying, would guarantee his children a rich inheritance.

The good councillor was delighted at this news and saw his sister die without shedding a tear. The income of thirty thousand francs that she left the little marquise seemed certain to pass to his children, and he had only to encourage his niece’s infatuation for the marquis. He did so with great success, telling her that he would be like a father to her and had no wish to be her guardian except in name.

This sympathetic behaviour consoled the little marquise somewhat – and she was certainly distraught – but the sight of her beloved marquis consoled her even more. She saw that she was absolute mistress of her fate, and her sole aim was to share it with the man she loved. Six months of official mourning passed, after which pleasures of all kinds once again filled her life. She went often to balls, the theatre, the opera, and always in the same company. The marquis never left her side and all her other suitors, seeing that it was a settled affair, had withdrawn. They lived happily and would perhaps have thought of nothing else, if malicious tongues could have left them in peace. Everywhere, people were saying that, while the little marquise was beautiful, since her mother’s death she had lost all sense of decorum: she was seen everywhere with the marquis; he was practically living in her house; he dined there every day and never left before midnight. Her best friends found grounds for censure in this: they sent her anonymous letters and warned her uncle, who spoke to her about it. Finally, things went so far that the little marquise went back to her first idea and decided to marry the marquis. She put this to him forcefully; he resisted likewise, only agreeing on condition that the marriage would be a purely public affair, and that they would live together like brother and sister. This, he said, was how they must always love one another. The little marquise readily agreed. She often remembered what her mother had told her. She spoke of it to her uncle, who began by outlining all the pitfalls of marriage and ended by giving his consent. He saw that, by this means, the income of thirty thousand francs was sure to pass to his family. There was no danger of his niece having children by the Marquis de Bercour whereas, if she did not marry him, her notion that she was a girl might change with time and with her beauty, which was sure to fade. So a wedding day was fixed on, bridal clothes made and the ceremony held at the good uncle’s house. (As guardian he undertook to give the wedding feast.)

The little marquise had never looked as beautiful as she did that day. She wore a dress of black velours completely covered in gems, pink ribbons in her hair and diamond pendants in her ears. The Comtesse d’Alettef, who would always love her, went with her to the church, where the marquis was waiting. He wore a black velours cloak decked with gold braid, his hair was in curls, his face powdered, there were diamond pendants in his ears and beauty spots on his face. In short, he was adorned in such a way that his best friends could not excuse such vanity. The couple were united for ever and everyone showered them with blessings. The banquet was magnificent, the king’s music and the violons were there. At last the hour came and relatives and friends put the couple together in a nuptial bed and embraced them, the men laughing, a few good old aunts weeping.

It was then that the little marquise was astonished to find how cold and insensitive her lover was. He stayed at one end of the bed, sighing and weeping. She approached him tentatively. He did not seem to notice her. Finally, no longer able to endure so painful a state of affairs, she said: What have I done to you, marquis? Don’t you love me any more? Answer me or I shall die, and it will be your fault.

Alas, madame, said the marquis, didn’t I tell you? We were living together happily – you loved me – and now you will hate me. I have deceived you. Come here and see.

So saying he took her hand and placed it on the most beautiful bosom in the world. You see, he said, dissolving in tears, you see I am useless to you: I am a woman like you.

Who could describe here the little marquise’s surprise and delight? At this moment she had no doubt that she was a boy and, throwing herself into the arms of her beloved marquis, she gave him the same surprise, the same delight. They soon made their peace, wondered at their fate – a fate that had brought matters on to such a happy conclusion – and exchanged a thousand vows of undying love.

As for me, said the little marquise, I am too used to being a girl, and I want to remain one all my life. How could I bring myself to wear a man’s hat?

And I, said the marquis, have used a sword more than once without disgracing myself. I’ll tell you about my adventures some day. Let’s continue as we are, then. Beautiful marquise, enjoy all the pleasures of your sex, and I shall enjoy all the freedom of mine.

The day after the wedding they received the usual compliments and, eight days later, left for the provinces, where they still live in one of their châteaux. The uncle should visit them there: he would find, to his surprise, that a beautiful child has resulted from their marriage – one to put paid to his hopes of a rich inheritance.

#Charles Perrault #François-Timoléon De Choisy #genderqueer folktales #trans representation #laura retells #except not really it's more like laura copy pastes this time

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ag3ntl3vi · 4 years ago

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Hoodie X GN! Reader X Masky | “Rock Paper Sisscors” |☁️

This struck me at like, 3AM while listening to Devil in Diguise. I’ll probably write more parts to this tonight if im being honest.

!Gender-Neutral reader!

Trigger Warnings: Sexual mentions.

Word Count: 2,317

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"Can you go any slower?" You laughed, stopping to allow your friend to catch up. Sweat dotted her chocolatey forehead as she panted.

"Yes! I can." She wheezed. "You're just too fast!" Taylor whined loudly, bending herself in half to try and catch her breath. You rolled your eyes and pulled her up, raising her arms over her head.

"You'll breathe better this way," You told her, taking a step back and taking a long sip of your icy water. Taylor nodded her thanks and slowed her breathing gradually.

"Wanna keep going?" You asked as you wiped your mouth on your wrist. Taylor feriously shook her head. "I'll pass, (Y/n)." She whimpered. You put yout arms behind your head as you began to walk down the worn dirt bath.

"That sucks," You murmered. "We were only 1/4th of the way done."

Taylor gaped at your cocky smirk. "And you do this everyday?"

You nodded. "Twice a day if I'm feelin' lucky," You winked and giggled. Taylor shook her head in disbelief.

"You're a machine," She grumbled, jogging to your side. You could tell she was tired, but she was the one who asked to join you in your near-night run. She said she needed the exercise to get the perfect "summer body", even though it was fall.

You hummed. "I didn't know they made sexy machines now." Taylor pushed away the urge to roll her eyes, though she desperately wanted to. She chose not to answer your stupid comment. You both started to walk back to your dorm and planned a junk food movie night. You had the feeling she wouldn't last, but you couldn't say no to her puppy face. You had to admit, you were a sucker for your best friend. Taylor ended up chugging the rest of her and your water bottles greedily, but you didn't blame her. She was pretty out of shape. The darker skinned girl took a large gasp of fresh oxygen after finishing off your beverage.

"Learn to breathe, my God," You snorted. She glared.

"I just ran a mile, you can shut your mouth, you fucking monster," She hissed playfully.

School campus soon came into view after your bickering. Taylor grumbled about how badly her feet ached and how she was never running ever again. You parted ways at the dorm. Taylor wanted to get the living room set up for the movie and sent you out for snacks and drinks. You easily migrated to the everything store. That wasn't its actual name, you couldn't care to remember what it was, but the everything store seemed to suit the run down shop better.

You pushed thr glass double doors open, a cute bell ringing to announce your presence to the cashire, Michael.

"(Y/n)!" He greeted with a smile. You returned the facial gester with a small wave of your own. "What're you here for this time?" He leaned his head on his open palm, his eyes trained on your figure. You had your back turned to him as you read the movie names on the rack.

"What does it look like?" You chuckles, plucking a familar title from the shelf. 'Kiki's Delivery Service', a childhood favorite of yours. Michael didn't verbally answer, he was too busy allowing his eyes to roam your every curve.

His eyes snapped to the side when you turned around to wonder down the candy isle. You shoved a KitKat , snickers, and (f/c) into your arm (allowing an extra of your favored one into your pocket, shh) before you turned the corner, finding the energy drinks. With a childish grin you grabbed a few of the better Monster flavors. You knew you had popcorn at the dorm so you didn't bother trying to find a box here.

You decided to check out as quickly as possible, avoiding as much conversation with Michael as you could. He gave you the creeps. He always tended to make sexual remarks regarding your running outfit, like how your shorts made your ass look plump or how cute you looked with a flushed, tired expression. In general, he didn't seem like a good guy or influence, though Taylor took an odd interest in him. She always had shitty tastes in men.

It was getting late, you noticed. The sun started to darken as students scrambled to their respected dorms or apartments off campus. You made your way to your room. The illuminated cobblestone path gave you the worst horror movie vibes, so to say you booked it was an understatement. As soon as you were inside the safe confindments of your dorms living area, you released a loud sigh of relief. You thought about taking the elevator up, but decided on the stairs to the third story. You were very grateful you were on a higher floor, to you it served as a lesser chance of being robbed or murdered.

"I brought a movie, candy and monsters, come on, you filthy goblin." you called into the freakishly neat room. Taylor was a very, very messy person so you tended to pick up after her more than you'd happily admit. It didn't take long for you to set positions for certain objects in specific places. Example, your shoes stayed in a small, plastic, blue bin by the door. They didn't ever make it to the carpeted floor of the living room. You had a key rack by the door so your keys were never lost or misplaced and Taylor had insisted you needed a coat rack, so your bookbags and Taylor's purses hung there. Any extra blankets, pillows, and sheets were placed neatly in the spare closet.

"Monsters..?" Her brown head popped out from around the corner.

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

Taylor had passed out halfway through the movie, not that you were surprised. You pouted. You were very well use to it, but it wasn't any less disappointing when it happened. You carefully laid her on the couch, not bothering to wake her. She was a literal demon when she was woken up. You covered her body in a large, fluffy blanket before standing, pacing for a moment.

You wondered back to your organized room and grabbed your large spray bottle you kept on your dresser. You stared down your mass of plants in your window seal and the few on your night stand and hanging from the ceiling before watering the ones that needed it, leaving your Rainbow Bush succulent alone. Satisfied, you grabbed your school jacket and your earbuds and phone before slipping your shoes on at the door.

It was almost 1 before Taylor and you had finally settled enough to sit and watch the movie, so it was fairly late now. But, regretfully, your body was still pumped from the sugary drinks you consumed not long ago. You made a quick choice to go on a short run to tire yourself out a bit before retiring for the night. Sure, wasn't the best idea to go out at night, alone and defenceless, but you prided yourself in your speed if needed. Besides, you've done it before and you were obviously still alive!

You made your way to the dirt path you ran earlier in the day, struggling to remember a stupid songs name. You grinned when you figured it out and hurriedly played it. The opening played through your earbuds as you gently bobbed your head to the beat.

"There are boulders on my shoulders, collar bones begin to crack, there is very little left of me and it's never coming back," You sung softly along with 'Be nice to me'. An old, but greatly loved song from your middle school years. You began to run.

Your lips parted in a content smile as a phrase slipped past your teeth.

"You're a killer, and i'm your best friend. I think it's unfair, your situation,"

You began to bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly. "You say i'm changing! I'm sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same!" You jumped as your legs moved, your voice growing louder and bolder with every word thoughtlessly spilling out your mouth. You became unaware of the eyes watching your movements, head tilted in confusion.

"Your voice is driving me insane!" You shouted, hopping more as you swished your head side to side, getting louder everytime the phrase was repeated. The last note rang through your ears and you let out a joyful that was quickly cut off. The overbearing feeling of being watched dawned on you.

You jerked around and scanned the treeline, your eyes falling on a tall male facing you with a tilted head. You stared at him, confused before your gaze fell on the bloodied pipe dangling by his side. You fearfully and turned around, bolting in the direction the path led you to. You didn't have much time to understand why he was watching you, but you could hear his heavy footsteps crushing dead leaves as he raced after you.

'Molly' blasted into your ears loudly, making you jerk in surprise. If you were going to die tonight, you were glad this was the song you'd die to.

You could hear him distantly still chasing after you. Not to brag, but you could run a mile amd keep going onto the next without breaking too much of a sweat, though you'd be fairly tired. Speaking of tired, you could feel the drousiness spreading to your head and deep down you knew that you couldn't keep the pace up for much longer.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned into the woods, lifting your feet high so you wouldn't be the stupid one to trip on a root and be killed first. That would be an embarrassing way to die and not even Molly could make it better, you concluded.

So you did the most logical thing your sleepy brain could think of.

You climbed a fucking tree.

The man was a far enough distance for you to get a good amount of height between the two of you. You panted, your palms itching with needle-like pain from the rough and merciless bark, but pulled yourself up another branch and looked down. The man was panting heavily, bent over as he struggled to force air into his most likely burning lungs. He stood up after a quick second, glaring up the tree at you.

Childishly, but overcome with a sense of acomplishment, you stuck your tongue out at him.

Bad idea, you concluded when the guy's gloved fists clenched by his sides and he started to climb.

You squealed. "No! Fuck off!" You shouted. "Pick another goddamn tree, you humanoid orange!" A growl ripped through your teeth as you glared fearfully at him. To your surprise, he got down. He moved his head to stare at you before sitting indian style, his face pointed to you.

For the first time you had a proper look at him, and you weren't surprised. He looked like he came from a shitty horror movie. He wore an orange hoodie with a ski mask hiding his facial features, a red frowny face sitched into it. He had dark blue, wore out jeans and black boots that looked to be kept as clean as Taylor would keep her living space.

'Best friend' Began to play quietly through your (f/c) earbuds and you forced down a snort at the timing. You were hoddled up in a tree while a guy who most likely wanted you dead watched from below. You shook your head and glanced at the dark sky.

'The stars are out' You thought as you spotted the little dipper, the big one wasn't far away from it's child.

It only took about ten minutes for your easily distracted mind to get bored. You stared down at the hooded man as he drew in the dirt with his pipe. An idea struck you, a bad one, but an idea nevertheless. And it wasn't going to kill you, with a lot of hope, it may allow you to live another day.

"Yo, tangerine!" He flinched at your loud voice, moving his head to stare at you.

You held up a fist with your dominate hand, your opposite going under it, palm up and open.

"Wanna play rock, paper, sisscors before I die?"

The man stilled before very, and I mean very slowly nodded. You allowed yourself to snort. Now you were going to play a childs game with a murderer.

"Do you know how to play?" You called down. He nodded again and held up his hands. "Cool," You said.

The orange-clad killer was absolute shit at rock, paper, sisscors. He was even worse than your nephew, who was six and had the attention span of a squirell. Sometime in your game playing, you had moved yourself a few branches down to see him better in the dark woods. You now sat a branch above his head. He didn't move much, but his shoulders seemed to slump.

You threw rock, again, and he threw sisscors. You gave an evil victory crackle whiele he glared gloomily at his open fingers. "That was fun," You stretched your arms over your head, yawning. "Can I go now?" You calmly asked.

He didn't move for a long while, looking between you and his gloved hands, the, back to you. Finally, he nodded. You hopped down, smiling widely.

"Thanks," You said nervously. He was trying to kill you earlier, so you wouldn't be completely off guard around him. You started to shuffle around him cautiously. His arm shot out, grabbing your upper arm roughly. You flinched hard, looking up at him with wide eyes.

This is it, You thought He changed his mind and wants to eat me!

Instead, you heard a deep voice whisper.

"You can leave if we can play again soon."

#creepypasta #x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie #masky #marble hornets #fanfiction #masky x reader #poly relationship #masky x reader x hoodie #cp #i dont know what im doing #rock paper sisscors #murderer #tim wright #brian thomas

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stalksbyakuyatogami · 4 years ago

Note

Oh my god, successfully summoning an ancestor with the V3 boys was amazing! Thank you so much! Could you do the same thing with the V3 Girls (exept Kaede because she is in your Blacklist)?

Summoning An Ancestor With V3 Girls!

aaaaaaaaaaa!! thank you anon!! im glad you liked it :))

warning: might be a long read

Himiko Yumeno

•You thought you'd excite her? The opposite. Sure, she always bragged about her magic, but she's actually all bark no bite. Just when you thought her magic would finally be put into use. She even refused doing it when she heard the ancestor part. There's no way in hell that she'd want to witness a phantom in this school. Especially at the third floor. But by some miracle and bribery, you managed to drag her in.

•She was slightly quivering just by the ambience of the room. It was a bit dark, just lit up by a few candles that barely even did their job. Although, she was curious of all the things that you had laid out. She would take a few glances on it every second, not sure if to feel fear or curiousity.

•When the spirit appeared, all she could do was tearfully and fearfully watch the ascending spirit. She was frozen in place. She might be fearing it, but she also thought that it was awesome. If she was a mage, she could do this all the time.

•She just stood there the whole time you talked to your ancestor. She ahd questions of her own, but she's just trying to bottle them all up, hoping that you'd miraculously ask them. As if channeling her thoughts you.

•After you were done, she was speechless. She was trying to process everything that just happened. She asked you if she can ask some questions too next time. Let her ask please xD.

Kirumi Tojo

•She's intrigued. It's the first time that she's having this request... but it's more like a favor. Same thing right? She'd like to see a spirit too. She might use this information someday, who knows. She agreed.

•She looked at all the things you had on the floor. Very dangerous. So she would guide you on how to use it properly. You might mess something up, but she's there to help.

•She was on alert when you started chanting unfamiliar words, but she remained calm and rational. Her hand will be ready to grab yours in case you had to flee. Your ancestor appeared earlier than you expected. She took just a step back when the spirit emerged. Intimidated by the spirit, she suggested that you two get out. But when the spirit spoke that you two can stay, she calmed down, but of course she's still on guard.

•While you conversed with your ancestor, she was observing it. Trying to identify which century they came from. She was trying to figure out if she would know how to serve them if they were still alive. Disregarding that, she's behaved and formal towards the spirit. She kept quiet the whole time and had her hands on top of the other, listening to the whole conversation.

•When you ended the session, she exhaled a breath of relief and congratulated you for doing a great job handling the spirit. There was something bugging her mind and you couldn't figure out what that was. But she reassured you that it was nothing. She agreed to come again the next time you perform another summoning.

Angie Yonaga

•This actually piqued her interest. She might be an artist, but she also takes interest in occult. So obviously, she's agree with you right away. She's excited, to be honest. But first, you'd hold a prayer to Atua. Pray for it to be successful. You couldn't escape her, so you just joined her, or you waited until she finished.

•She was humming while you two were heading for the room. When she saw your materials, her interest shot up. She even asked you if you needed a pint of blood because she'll get it right away. You tell her that a pint is not needed. In fact, you didn't need anything that was out of this room. Everything necessary is already here.

•She was a bit disappointed when no spirit appeared 8 seconds after you called it. And she presumed that maybe Atua didn't like this time and day fir the summoning. She would take her words back when it finally appeared. Amazement was glossing her eyes. How amazing Atua is.

•She was the one to ask questions first. What can you do? She's hella curious! The phantom was overwhelmed with the questions and eventually stopped answering them. She promised to keep quiet while you asked for advice but only if you'll let her ask more questions when you finish. She hummed while you communicated so it was kinda distracting. She's just excited give her a break xD.

•When you two were finished, she gave you her insight and told you that it was an amazing experience! She would love to do it with you again. She might just summon Atua next time!

Maki Harukawa

•Maki gave you a questioning look. What? A summoning? You seriously believe in that? That's nothing but a wishful thinking. But seeing that you insist so bad, she had no choice but to come with you. She just wants your mouth to shut up, so she agreed.

•The materials you had were pretty unfamiliar to her considering she's an assassin. She thinks this is all just bullshitry, nothing more. She has to put up with it though. She actually helped you do the methods, correcting whenever you get something wrong.

•Maki got tired of waiting after 10 seconds. "I already told you. This is not working." Which she'd immediately take back. The phantom loomed over you two. She creased her eyebrows. She still can't believe. But she had no choice but to suck it up. She nervously swallowed and grabbed something that wasn't there; a weapon.

•She stood there, despising the phantom a bit, but still listened to what it said. She didn't have her personal questions; regarding the killing game that is. She had all the questions on her mind. Who? What? Why? How? HOW?! She was making a weird face that slightly disturbed the spirit.

•When you finished the session, she told you how weird that experience was. But she's relieved that you got some advice from them. Might not go with you the next time. Not because she's terrified of the ghost. She thinks it's hella weird and it sends a shiver up her spine.

Tenko Chabashira

•"S-s-summoning?! Thats kinda... new..." She's a bit creeped out. Just the thought of seeing a ghost is enough to make her cringe. She asks you if you're sure. Just in case you change your mind, she'd still be supporting you.

•You led her up to the third floor of the school. She was a bit fidgety and she always asks you if you'd change your mind right now. She was shocked of all thr items in the room. She was alarmed and posed defensively. She had no idea how all of these work, so she read the instructions on the book and helped you even just a little bit.

•She was actually relieved that your ancestor didn't appear... yet. The relief immediately went away when the translucent spirit came to... life. How ironic. She was actually terrified of the spirit now. She hidea behind your back, promising to defend you if anything happens.

•She was behind you the whole time you talked. She wouldn't dare utter a word. But maybe she'll sneak her catchphrase in when your ancestor is male. She watched the spirit with anxious and confused eyes.

•She was extremely relieved when you were done. It was like getting rid of the thorn on her side. She felt easy again. I doubt that she'd go with you the next time... That was terrifying. Who knew spirits were real?

Miu Iruma

•She's quite disgusted of the thought. You still believe in those things at your age? Pathetic. Believe in technology instead! Now come here and let me test this new invention of mine! Its functions are—! She agreed to join you. But just for research purposes and future references. Decided to make an impromptu camera to tape the summoned spirit. That might just be a breakthrough.

•She was full of complaints during your trip. She held her camera to where all the necessary objects for the ritual was placed. Istg she might be doing a documentary. Bad commentator I would say. She dissed all the objects that you had laid out. What the hell, man? She didn't help you. She just picked these up and observed it through the camera. She filmed your process.

•She was impatiently waiting for the ghost to appear. She was about to turn her camera off when she heard the phantom's booming voice. She cowered in fear, almost dropping her camera. She hid behind your back, whimpering.

•She watched your ancestor fearfully while you asked questions. She would mutter unholy things under her breath and you would be distracted by that. Like, do souls have pps or something of the sort.

•She only filmed half of the thing. Let's just hope that that ghost and the audio show up in the recordings. She wouldn't accompany you ever again. That shit was terrifying.

Tsumugi Shirogane

•She was excited. But of vourse, she evaluated everything before she agreed with you. Summoning was both heart-throbbing and curious for her. So obviously, she wouldn't back out.

•She was quiet during the trip to the third floor. But she certainly had a smile on her face and stars for eyes. She was intrigued with all thr object you had laid out. She even grabbed one and tried to run it across her skin. But for safety purposes, yo told her to stop as it would ruin the ritual. She gladly obliged. She still observed the objects very closely though.

•She was starting to sigh as 8 seconds rolled by and nothing came out of your ritual. Just as she was about to leave, she squeaked at the spirit's frightening voice. She went back to her place and quietly apologized while she had her head down.

•She was just there... with her sparkling eyes boring into the summoned soul. She had all sorts of questions, and her face was turning pink. Probably from excitement. She had to bottle up all those questions too.

•After the session, she was too awestruck to utter a single word. She had sparkles in her eyes and her hands were merged together. She grabbed yours and enthusiastically said, "Let's do it again next time, S/O!"

I'll fix the errors later. Thank you for requesting, anon.

-Mod Toko [Maki Shift]♡

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harley-style · 4 years ago

Text

mcyt brain rot for you all

this is both anysis and headcanon and au scenario, all blended together. you're welcome :D

----------

i have this headcanon,,,, cobbled together by some tumblr posts i read,,,, but some of them point out that wilbur is like, good at manipulating people as well to a point, right?

so i was thinking. what if his reach extended far beyond what anyone thought of? *what if wilbur's influence spread to dream?*

i know we've discussed this before (or sparrow analyzed it idk) but like. hear me out. this headcanon has to do with how wilbur wants to create a narrative. pit it against dream and his presumed original desires to create a safe happy place for his friends. wilbur's insistence that dream is the "tyrant". what if wilbur saw how dream was pointedly staying out of conflict, decided, "i dont like that," and began twisting the storyline and pulled dream's strings (pointedly off camera bc headcanons, babyyyy) so that dream would eventually fall into ruin, as the disgraced tyrant?

and dream...he KNOWS what wilbur's doing. to him specifically. and he's struggling so hard at the beginning, judging by his soft, passive demeanor when wilbur asks about the tnt.

i think, that somewhere along the line, dream lost sight of where his boundaries lied, and falls right into wilbur's plot pit and became The Villain. and he's like, fuck. I went and done it, oh no.

and....it worsens.

i had this whole scenario in my head that dream fully embraces the villain role, plays wilbur's game and completes the "narrative"...but is so fed up with wilbur and his stupid fucking ploys that he...bends the rules a little. changes shit up.

something...oh, a little like "lets speedrun my fall into villainy" bc it wouldn't be dream without the speedrun.

fast forward to prison. maybe if dream finally gets to resurrect wilbur. and wilbur is Not Pleased with how dream has decided to handle his narrative.

but its like. dream doesn't give two shits about wilbur's goddamn narrative anymore. he **played wilbur's game**. he's done with his role. he's given them peace, given them a happy end.

sure, he's given the rest plenty of trauma, but hey, it all turned out okay in the end, right? theyve got their happy ending. theyve BEATEN the big bad nightmare. his role is OVER.

but wilbur doesnt like it. doesnt like the lengths dream went to. it wasn't supposed to be like this. dream wasn't supposed to turn out this much of a *monster.*

and dream laughs. "will, wilby, wilbur," he croons madly, in his pretty little cell, preening like a cat. "i dont care," he hisses. "you fucking wanted this. you WANTED me to be this way. right? mr. revolutionary man? come on now, dont tell me you never expected this."

and wilbur tries to protest, but dream cuts him off.

"no. NO. dont' play your stupid littke games on me wilbur. you udnerstand? im DONE. im so sick of your bullshit, your countries your wars and your stupid fucking "story". I WANTED PEACE AND SAFETY. ALL i asked was "hey, don't be jerks, we're all one big community," and you didn't even have the DECENCY to just adhere to those rules, not even a little bit! you -- i let you in here because of TOMMY, you know that? the reason you even got to BE in this world was because tommy "vouched" for you. said you would be a great addition. and tommy-- i loved that kid back then, you know? he was bright and annoying and he made the server FUN. you took that brilliance, took that kid, and turned him against me, against ALL of us -- for what? independence? I HANDED YOU INDEPENDENCE AND YOU SPAT IT IN MY FACE LIKE IT WAS THE MOST VILE THING YOUVE EVER RECEIVED. i didnt even ENFORCE my rules, they were so loose literally EVERYONE broke them at some point.

but you? you had the audacity to call me a tyrant. to call me selfish, greedy, controlling. and then you declared war. the pet wars, the first disc wars weren't even close to the intensity you brewed during the revolution.

you had this little ideal in your head. and ill have to hand it to you, it was certainly impressive. but you didnt need to press it, to pressure it on the people of my server. you did anyway. you created this plot, this scheme to paint me as the villain, as the final boss. and you know what? FINE! if this is what it takes for them to be safe and happy, i'll be the villain.

but don't come in here expecting me to play that role again. i DID my part. i united them. my work is over.

but you, wilbur? heh. you get to deal with ALL the consequences of your war games. you'll be the one dealing with tommy's nightmares, tubbo's anger, everyone's hatred, fuck, you even get to deal with the egg!! isnt that nice? i was willing to deal with the egg, you know, it appeared before the whole election thing. but since you're here, you may as well take over. because you're SO great at directing them, you know? better than i ever could.

point is, wilbur, you don't get to use me as the tyrant, the final boss, the bad guy, and the villain anymore. when i said i would be putting the most powerful person in here, I wasn't fucking lying!"

"but tommy said you were going to put him in there!"

"you know, with the amount of times ive practically lied to that kid, im surprised he still believed me. i was never planning to put him in here. no one else would be put in here. hell, even techno and phil would just have gotten stuck here for about a week. i had guidelines, you know. i put them in a book somehwere, in one of my bases. no one was supposed to get unfair treatment. unfortunately i seemed to have pulled the short end of thr stick. that seems to be all that im doing these days."

"dream—"

"no. don't do that. don't pull me into another one of your plots wilbur. i don't want to hear it. you got your villain. your villain is gone, wilbur.

it's time to be the hero. :)"

basically my points here are like.

-wilbur made a narrative that dream didnt agree with

-this narrative painted dream in a negative villian light so dream basically said "yeah fuck that" and spedran his role

-headcanons galore i really do like the idea of dream creating that prison for himself to be locked in

-once wilbur is back he visits dream and explains his displeasure that dream went and did the things he did bc 1) hurt a lot of people personally and 2) did not adhere to the villain role wilbur specifically assigned to dream

-additional mentions: both wanted peace but in different forms. dream wanted peace for peace's sake but wilbur wanted peace after struggles. dream genuinely loved everyone on the server, but had to shed those attachments because to him, PERSONALLY, it would be a weakness towards his "villainous" role. his threatening of tubbo in front of tommy so tommy can "be the hero like spiderman and batman" shows that he knows exactly how empowering attachments are. lastly, dream only began manipulating people after the pogtopia arc. he mostly stayed the neutral party during it, and was just reacting with plans among plans during the lmanburg revolution.

-additionally, wilbur really wanted to stay dead, but dream said "haha no" and alived him again bc if he has to be the one to inflict trauma onto people then wilbur has to suffer leading the efforts to recovery.

hi @dreamsclock u keep giving me brainrot so im tossing this at u thank u goodbye i hope u dont mind the tag

#dream smp #dsmp #roleplay #au idea #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #villain dream #will dreamsclock see this #idk #dreamsclock

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tranquileuphoria · 4 years ago

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☽ To you, I bid goodnight

genre : fluff

character(s) : oikawa tooru ( haikyuu! )

pairing : oikawa x male! reader

warnings : ooc maybe?

synopsis : spending a tranquil night in a warm embrace was all he asked for, and who were you to deny his sweet little wish?

word count : 1.3k words

authors note : and here it is! my first ever fan fiction with reader inserts! quite nervous of how this will turn out honestly, but i hope you enjoy reading my work! this is my first time to actually write fluff and i sincerely apologize if tooru was completely ooc and about my writing style. it’s been so long since i’ve written anything so i’m quite rusty and i’ve never actually written for tooru before. but all that aside, thank you for reading and have a nice day! <3

now playing…

　♫ fireflies by outgoing hikikomori

Watching as the clouds turn into a gentle shade of cotton candy, taking the bright sun into its arms as the moon welcomes itself into the sky, it was once again another evening to welcome a nice and peaceful Friday night.

Or so, that’s how it usually felt for Y/n. But not now, not tonight. Drumming his fingers on the smooth wooden desk, his mind wonders to the many possibilities of how tonight would end up, only making him feel a surge of adrenaline rush the longer he pondered over it. His heart was hammering against his chest rapidly that he swore it would leap out the longer he ponders over numerous possibilities for tonight’s faithful event. How did this happen, you may ask? Well if it wasn’t for a certain volleyball captain and setter, who texted him a couple minutes ago— going on about making his way to Y/n’s house and spend the night with him— then maybe Y/n wouldn’t be much of a wreck as how he currently is.

And yet here we are.

“Y/n-chan~ practice is over! And don’t worry, this time I’m not staying overtime. Anyways, I took it to myself and decided to stay over your place for the weekend to make up for my absence! I’ll be there soon! <3” read the text. That was what all it took to get Y/n completely off-guard, his studies long forgotten as he stares at his phone in disbelief. It wasn’t because he didn’t like it but rather of how sudden it was for Oikawa to decide on such. It wasn’t news for anybody when they hear about Y/n and Oikawa dating, after all they have been together for a month now. But when it came to pushing boundaries and making huge steps in the relationship was Y/n’s job, or so he believed. When he had finally confessed his love for Oikawa, he had promised to the captain that loving him would be worthwhile, that he can prove to him that Oikawa can be genuine and true to himself around him, thus Y/n took the role of building up the relationship in a slow paced process for the captain to keep up with no struggle.

Now don’t get him wrong, Y/n was extremely delighted to know that his dearest beloved was slowly warming up to their relationship. He knew that under the captain’s charming and prideful display was a soft and kindhearted man who’s love was solely on both Y/n and volleyball, and knowing that Oikawa himself has decided to take a step forward and stay over his boyfriend’s place only meant he was willing to take down his walls slowly. But a sleepover was something Y/n wasn’t prepared for. The sickeningly sweet image of him snuggling in bed with his sweet boyfriend was just too much for his little heart.

His body shivered from the overwhelming amount of adrenaline in his body, fingers no longer drumming against the wooden desk, but rather now with a pen and tapping it on the unfortunate desk furiously.

‘Why am I so nervous— its just Tooru. Yeah, he just wants to spend the night, that’s all.’

‘…oh god he wants to spend the night. Tooru is staying over— the love of my life is staying over and I haven’t even thought of this thr—‘

“Dear? Oikawa’s here for you” And all of a sudden, his mother is at his doorstep, arms crossed with a questioning look as she stared at her son who just dropped his pen on the table suddenly causing her to giggle “how many times do I have to remind you, do be careful with your pens, that’s your tenth one this week and it’s only Friday.” her teasing caused his ears to turn pink— it wasn’t his fault that he fumbles with his pen when he’s nervous! It’s their fault for breaking so easily!

Y/n cleared his throat “y-y’know he could’ve just headed straight here…not like he wasn’t here before” he mumbled much softer than he anticipated, eyes scanning his room for one last check to see if everything was neat enough for his lovely visitor. His mother sighed, a soft smile threatening to reach her lips as she looked at her nervous wreck of a son, noting how both parties were just as nervous about the night to come. Oh young puppy love.

“I’ll let him know then, you two go have fun!” was her last remark before she disappeared from his line of sight. Y/n’s mind drew blank for a split second as he stared at the open bedroom door, all calm for once while wondering about what to say when Oikawa gets to his room— but the peace in his heart fell short as the sound of unfamiliar footsteps head straight for his room.

His heartbeat began to race the louder the footsteps became and it didn’t take long for him to find his sweet beloved one step away from his room, a sweet smile on Oikawa’s lips as their gazes meet. ‘Ah, there he is’ he thought ‘the sweetest boy alive’. As if on cue, Oikawa throws himself in Y/n’s arms, his bag long forgotten on the floor as he squeals his boyfriend’s name and quick to snuggle into his chest, one of the many things Y/n loved most about Oikawa. The captain was never shy to express his affection whether by words or actions in both public and private, and while some find that annoying, Y/n found it absolutely adorable and lovable. It made him feel so much more loved because of how much the beautiful setter expresses his emotions and he could only hope that Oikawa could feel the same as he returns the affection.

Lovesick wasn’t even enough to express the blooming emotions in Y/n’s chest as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. A soft greeting that came with a light peck on the cheek was all he could muster as his mind clouded over how precious Oikawa was being, the other turning into a light shade of pink from the sudden kiss on the cheek making Y/n feel even more obliged to to pepper him with kisses.

“Hey there, cutie” Y/n begun before he could fall into the sweet temptation of drowning Oikawa with his love and affection. “How was your day? Did Iwaizumi-san hit you with a ball again?” He teased, gaining a soft whine from his lover as he pouted “He did! Iwa-chan is always so mean~ I just wanted to brag about you, was that so wrong?” Oikawa whined, snuggling further into Y/n as much as he can, making the other chuckle and coo “awe~ my poor baby~. Though, I think Iwaizumi-san has had enough hearing about me”

“But I could talk about you all day without getting tired! There’s just something wrong with him!” Oikawa argued

“now now— you’re just giving him more reasons to hit you if he heard that”

“Y/n-chan!”

“sorry, sorry~”

After a long nice conversation filled with teasing and loving affection that lasted past midnight, Y/n finds himself under his sheets with a soft bundle of brown hair tucked under his chin. Limbs tangled up with arms around one another, Y/n swore that his heart would just burst right there and then. Adding up Oikawa’s relaxed sleeping figure and the soft snores he makes was enough for Y/n to die happily with no ounce of regret. He was far too deep in cloud nine over the fact that he gets a chance to see his beloved Tooru sound asleep and snuggled against him to even acknowledge his own need to take a goodnights rest. With his gaze soft upon Oikawa’s sleeping figure, he wonders just how he would be able to keep his eyes closed when he would rather stare at his beloved for the next few hours.

It isn’t every night that he could get to spend his nights like this, but Y/n wouldn’t have it any other way.

#haikyuu!!#oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru #male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader

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