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neewtmas · 4 months

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12 days of Christmas // A Lockwood & Co Advent Calendar

DAY 9

Welcome back! Today I have an absolute treat for you. Someone around here (I don't remember who it was unfortunately) brought up a locklyle regency AU - and while I initially felt ill-equipped to write it, inspiration struck and that is how we end up here.

So please enjoy this Bridgerton/Cinderella inspired Locklyle Regency AU, featuring Viscount Anthony Lockwood, Butler George and Kitchen Maid Lucy, who gets to have her very own Cinderella moment.

As the Clock Struck 12 - A Locklyle Regency AU

pairing: anthony lockwood x lucy carlyle

wordcount: 4.5k

masterlist

day 1 day 2 day 3 day 4 day 5 day 6 day 7 day 8

advent calendar tags: @givemea-dam-break @wellgoslowly @maraschinomerry @losticaruss @oblivious-idiot @uku-lelevillain @avdiobliss @strawberryloveyyy @strawberrycowgirly @demigoddess-of-ghosts @thefriendlyneighborhoodmomfriend @boookfreeak

A knock on the door made Anthony Lockwood look up from the correspondence he had been working on since early morning. He called for Bancroft to come in. The elderly man entered, carrying a silver tray in front of him. "This just got dropped off, my lord." His eyes twinkled. "By a Fittes' carriage, might I add?" Anthony thanked him and gestured him to put down the tray on an empty spot on the table. He turned his attention back to the half-written letter in front of him but then decided the unopened one to his right was of much more interest. He reached over to pick it up. It was heavy, and upon turning it around, he saw himself faced with a red wax seal, indented with none other than the Fittes crest.

Lady Marissa Fittes The Duchess of Devonshire cordially invites Viscount Anthony Lockwood to a Masquerade Ball to be held at Combe Carey Hall on the 20th of May, 1813

Anthony briefly scanned the rest of the letter. A masquerade ball. He could think of much better things to spend his time on, but one doesn't simply reject an invitation coming from Lady Marissa Fittes. At least he had a few weeks to mentally prepare himself, and thanks to Bancroft, he wouldn't have to worry about acquiring a mask either.

---------- 19th of May, 1813, Combe Carey Hall-----------------

George nervously glanced up and down the hallway, but it was just as empty as when he entered it a few minutes earlier. He stepped back into one of the bays, his back to the tall window, and partially hidden by the heavy curtains he took a deep breath. The quiet was a welcome change from the bustling that was going on in other parts of the estate. For an entire week, the staff of Combe Carey Hall had been working tirelessly to prepare the huge ballroom for the masquerade ball, there had been drill after drill for the butlers, and he had no idea how he was supposed to survive the evening tomorrow when his back and shoulders were already killing him now. He jumped as the curtain in front of him was pulled back.

"Sorry I'm late", Lucy hissed, quickly moving the curtain back so that now both of them were hidden from any curious eyes that might look down the hallway. "It's fine. I needed a break anyway. But I have acquired everything you need." He held up the bundle he had tucked under his arm. "Dress and mask." Lucy took the package from him, and as she did, the fabric opened up and a mask slipped out, into her hand. "Wow", she breathed out, delicately holding it. The mask was a stunning, deep shade of blue, with many intricate silver ornaments. She moved the fabric further and revealed a heavy fabric in the same shade of blue.

She stared up at George, mouth hanging open. "Where did you get that?" George grinned. "I have my sources. Just don't question it." He took the mask from her hand and held it up to her face. "Who knows, maybe a mysterious duke will fall in love with you?" Lucy scoffed. "Yeah George, right. Because Dukes are well known for marrying kitchen maids." She paused for a moment. "I don't need love. I just want one evening to feel like more than a kitchen maid who gets pushed around. Maybe one dance with someone, anyone. And then I'll leave and no one will ever know it was me." She looked down at the luxurious fabric in her hands. "Well, thanks for this anyway. I owe you big time." George squeezed her arm. "No worries. You covered for Flo so many times, that's the least I could do." Lucy perked up. "Speaking of Flo, she asked me to give you this." She searched the pocket of her dress and pulled out a note, folded up impossibly tiny. "You're supposed to read it alone though, so I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow night!" And just like that, she was gone.

---- Morning of the 20th of May, 1813, The Lockwood's Estate-------

Anthony eyed himself in the mirror. He had forced himself into the finest tailcoat his collection could offer. It didn't look too shabby, he had to admit that. His gaze fell on the mask Bancroft had picked out for him. It was a rich, dark blue, ornately decorated with gold embellishments. It was perfectly fitted to his favourite waistcoat. As usual, he could rely on Bancroft's tastefulness. Anthony had decided to take on the journey on his own. Combe Carey Hall was just about two hours away, and he had planned to return the next day right after the brunch Lady Fittes was holding for an assorted group of attendees. He didn't even really know why he was invited to that event in the first place.

The carriage ride proved to be just as uneventful as he had expected, and after his arrival, a butler who had introduced himself as George led him to one of the many rooms of Combe Cary Hall, an estate much bigger than Anthony was used to from home. "This room is yours for the extent of your stay, Your Lordship. The Lady Fittes wishes to make known that you are free to request whatever makes your stay more comfortable. I shall be at your service until you leave the estate." Anthony took a closer look at George. He seemed to be roughly his age. "How long have you worked here?" "Just a few months, Your Lordship. I have just recently ended my training. If you wish for a more experienced -" Anthony shook his head. "No no, that's not it. I'm sure you'll do great." Something about the boy intrigued him. He had a feeling they could have been great friends if only they had been born into the same social circle.

------- 20th of May, 1813, Combe Carey Hall, 9 pm---------

After quite a lengthy conversation with George, who had excused himself to attend to some last preparations, Anthony had changed into the tailcoat he had brought and was now admiring his reflection in the mirror. The mask, which hid the upper half of his face, was fitted flawlessly to him and matched his blue and gold waistcoat to perfection. But now it was time to finally show up in the ballroom and offer a greeting to the hostess, Lady Marissa Fittes.

One entered through two large winged doors, and would then immediately reach a balustrade, over which the entire extent of the ballroom could be surveyed. Anthony took a sip from the champagne, which had been offered to him immediately upon arrival. He adjusted his mask, which had proved difficult to properly fasten without someone to help him. He wondered if it was on purpose that a butler fresh out of training, who also had responsibilities throughout the evening, was designated specifically to him. He let his gaze wander over the crowd. It wasn't hard to spot the Lady of the evening, even though she, like everyone else, was wearing a mask. Her tall, slender figure in a silver gown and a matching silver mask, by far the most elaborate he had seen so far, made her easily stand out. A lot of women would have blended into the crowd in a silver dress, but she seemed to stand out even more. He emptied the champagne and handed the empty glass with a nod to the nearest butler before he began his descent of the stairs that led down to the ballroom floor. It took quite a while until he got through to Lady Fittes, as he was not the only one here who wanted to express gratitude for the invitation. After a short conversation with her, he made his way over to the buffet at the side of the room.

He had just grabbed another glass he didn't quite know the contents of when George appeared by his side, a tray in his hand and wearing the same simple mask that seemed to have been handed out to all other butlers. He did a little bow. "My Lord. Are you enjoying the evening so far?" They had quickly switched to a much more informal style of conversation. Not only did Anthony not agree with treating his servants as his inferiors who weren't worth talking to respectfully, but their closeness in age made it easy for him to forget that George wasn't just some old friend with the same social standing as him. He took a sip from the liquid in the glass. Lemonade, delightfully bitter. Not the best he ever had though, he much preferred the natural lemonade with pulp his mother had given him as a small kid. "There hasn't been much I could have enjoyed yet. The conversation with Lady Fittes was…" He waved it off. "Let's forget about that. I should be off finding some lovely ladies to dance with." George's eyes twinkled in a mischievous way that reminded Lockwood of Bancroft. "I might know someone you'd like. But she won't arrive until later." Anthony knew it wouldn't be a good look for him to spend the entire evening talking to George, even though he found himself enjoying their conversations. He did not particularly enjoy the company of all the young ladies, since a lot of them seemed to think of him as an eligible bachelor who was desperate to marry as soon as possible. He knew that was what he should be, but he couldn't care less if he was honest with himself.

----------20th of May, 1813, Combe Carey Hall, 11:30 pm -----

Lucy's hands were slightly shaking as she made her way through the hallway leading up to the entrance of the ballroom. She was thankful for the mask that was hiding half of her face, and she had to stop herself from constantly smoothing out the skirt of her dress. She had no idea how George managed to get his hand on something as gorgeous as this. Really, it was much too gorgeous for her plain self. If it weren't for the equally gorgeous mask, she would have looked ridiculous. On the way to the ballroom, she had come across several of her fellow kitchen maids, all of whom had curtsied for her - it seemed like all it took to make her completely unrecognisable was an expensive dress.

She downed the first glass of champagne that was offered to her in one go, and for a moment she just stood at the balustrade, looking down on the crowd of dancers. Her fingers gripped the cold metal, and she had to talk herself out of turning around and going straight back to the kitchens. Luckily, she quickly spotted George, whose curly hair made him easily recognisable, even with the mask on. She felt weak in the knees as she slowly descended the stairs, still gripping the balustrade, fearing that at any moment, someone would recognise her for the fraud she was and throw her out. She made her way through the crowd, desperate to find George as quickly as possible. When she finally spotted him, she almost tripped over her dress as she rushed over to him.

"Woah, that is not very lady-like of you", George laughed a little as she skidded to a halt next to him. The masked lady next to them turned her head, and despite her mask, you could tell her look was disapproving. "I feel like throwing up", Lucy whispered. "This was a bad idea." George shook his head, still smiling. "You look fantastic. This is gonna be a great night. I already found you a dance partner." Lucy whipped around. "What? Where? Who?" George squeezed her arm. "Calm down", he whispered. "I think he's coming over right now."

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Anthony was growing tired after the fifth dance of the evening. Somehow it felt like every girl he talked to had been the same. Maybe because they all looked the same with their masks, but maybe also because none of the conversations they had had during dancing had been stimulating enough to keep him with his dance partner for longer than the socially required duration of a dance. He grabbed himself another lemonade, scanning the crowd for George. Maybe it was time for a break. It didn't take long to spot him, but this time he had to do a double take. George wasn't alone anymore. Next to him stood a girl in a stunning royal blue gown. They seemed to be close, judging by the way they were whispering to each other. He was intrigued. Who was this girl? He felt the need to talk to her, maybe ask her for a dance. He put down the lemonade, and made his way over, straightening out his suit. For whatever reason, he wanted to make a good first impression on her.

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"There he comes", George said and gave her a nudge with his elbow. "Stand straight, you wanna make a good first impression." Lucy did what he said, and her eyes frantically scanned the room for someone coming towards them. What if this was George's way of paying her back for the pranks she had pulled on him some time again and now he had promised some old creepy dude a dance with her? Someone behind her cleared his throat, and she whipped around. Her stomach dropped at the sight in front of her. The man standing in front of her, his mask the same shade as hers, but with gold ornaments to her silver ones, made a little bow.

"I'm Anthony Lockwood, pleased to make your acquaintance." "Viscount Anthony Lockwood", George added and gave her another subtle nudge. Lucy gasped, and she could feel herself blushing in embarrassment as she did a very wobbly curtsy. "Miss - Miss Holly Munro", she blurted out the first name that came to mind that wasn't hers. Anthony smiled and extended his hand. Not really sure what to do, she went to shake it, but instead, he took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss on her knuckles. Lucy felt like she was about to faint, and she could tell that George was trying hard to keep his composure. What was happening? "Miss Munro, might I have the honour of the next dance with you?" She couldn't do anything but nod, much too overwhelmed by the situation. So when Anthony offered her his arm, she let him escort her to the dancefloor.

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Miss Holly Munro. Anthony was racking his brain, but he was unable to put a face to the name. That in and of itself was not unusual, as the amount of ladies one met at these events was simply overwhelming and he did not care to know them. But then again, if he had ever seen this girl before, he would have remembered, he was sure of it. Something about her was entirely captivating to him. He could only see half of her face, but that coupled with her beautiful eyes that had looked at him with great surprise only seconds before made him sure that was remarkably beautiful. He wondered what her connection to George was. As he led her onto the dance floor, he could tell that she was nervous. They began dancing, and he quickly realised that her nervousness meant that her dancing wasn't as refined as he was used to from the ladies he had danced with before her.

But rather than annoyance, as he was used to from himself, it sparked in him the wish to hold her and relieve her of this nervousness. He tried his best to lead her through the dance, every now and then stepping aside to avoid her foot on his. "How come I haven't seen you around so far this evening, Miss Munro?", he asked. She wasn't wearing gloves, and her hand felt warm in his. It felt like it was supposed to be there. "Oh, I'm sure you've seen me", she said, avoiding his gaze. "I've been here quite a long time." "I find that hard to believe", he replied. "I could never forget a beauty like yours. And if I had seen you before, I surely would have asked you to dance right that instance." He couldn't help but smile as he noticed the blush on her cheeks as she looked to the ground bashfully, still not meeting his eyes. This was the most genuine reaction to a compliment he had seen all night. But then again, it was also the first genuine compliment he had given all night.

After a while, the conversation between them was flowing easily, and Anthony found himself not wanting to stop their dance. Where with every other girl he had felt the urge to leave as soon as possible, this was the opposite - he felt the urge to never leave her. With every time she laughed at his jokes and blushed at his compliments, or said something witty that made him laugh - he found himself thinking about how maybe marriage wouldn't be so bad if it was with someone like her. "Shall we get some lemonade"? he asked after they had - rather reluctantly from his side and, he felt confident, also from hers - ended the dance due to the band taking a break. She nodded and he fetched two glasses, giving her one. "Would you like to accompany me outside on the balcony? I could use some fresh air." "Of course, my lord." He could barely stop himself from asking her to just call him Anthony. Using his title was awfully formal when he felt like he had known her forever. They made their way to the balcony, her still at his arm, and he revelled in the feeling of having her pressed up against his side as they navigated the tight crowd.

The balcony was surprisingly empty, probably because everyone had gathered at the buffet after all the dancing. He let his eyes wander over the beautifully maintained garden that lay in front of them, but when he turned to her, it was like for a moment he had forgotten how to breathe. She looked ethereal, the silver on her mask glowing and her blue dress in the silver moonlight made her look like the gods themselves had blessed her. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than for her to take that mask off so he could see what beauty lay beneath it. "Have any other suitors expressed interest in marriage with you?", he blurted out, and immediately regretted it as she took a surprised step back. "Any other suitors?", she asked, her voice suddenly uncharacteristically small. Anthony cursed himself for his thoughtless words. "Surely you have many gentlemen interested in you?" He thought that was a harmless question, but it seemed to make her even more nervous. "I don't have any suitors", she said quietly, and he had to hold back a sound of surprise. "That's not possible", he said. "A lady as stunning as you, with no suitors?" She shook her head frantically, taking another small step back. He moved a little closer to her, fighting the urge to take her hand. Maybe she was embarrassed at her predicament. After all, having no suitors wasn't all that flattering. "Would you have any interest in a courtship with me? I have found our conversations -" She raised her hands, her voice wavering. "No, please, my lord, that's impossible. You can't marry me. No one can marry me. I - I'm so sorry." And with that, she hastily gathered her skirt and practically sprinted back into the ballroom.

Anthony Lockwood stood on the balcony and felt like he had been struck by lightning. What had just happened? One moment he had offered marriage to a girl, and the next she was gone. Did a marriage proposal from him evoke that much terror in her? She had seemed to enjoy their conversation just as much as him. And if she really had no suitors… 'No one can marry me' she had said - what did that mean? Just then, as if to mock him, the church bells in the little village below the estate started to chime - it was midnight. He needed to find her. She didn't have to marry him and she found him that repulsive, but he did deserve an explanation at least.

Back inside, he searched for George. In his rush to get to him, he knocked into several people, all of whom gave him indignant looks, but he could not care less. "George!" The butler turned around, looking surprised at his dishevelled state. "My Lord?" "Miss Munro, where is she?" "What?" "Miss Munro", Anthony repeated, impatiently. "Where has she gone? We just talked outside, and suddenly she ran away." George put the tray he was carrying down on the nearest table. "What did you talk about?" "I was offering her courtship", he said shortly, not wanting to think too long about the fact that the prospect of marrying him was what had made her flee the scene. George widened his eyes. "Marriage?!" "That is not the point now. I just need to talk to her." He tried hard to keep his voice down, but the prospect of never seeing her again made him erratic. He had never even seen her face. "You know where she is, George", he said urgently. George rubbed his temple. "She's gonna kill me", he mumbled, more to himself, and Anthony did not care to ask him what he meant by that. "George!" "Alright! Go through that door, down the corridor, then to the left, then to the right. You should find her there."

Anthony did not wait for him to finish speaking, instead, he rushed to follow George's instructions. The hallway was much smaller than the opulent ones he had seen so far, it seemed almost like this was an area for servants. Why did George send him here? He was running down the hallway, and while he tried his best not to trip over his own feet, he tried to undo the knot that held up his mask. Away with that stupid thing.

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Lucy leaned against the outer wall of the estate, the stones cool at her back. Her hands were still shaking, and she was so focused on taking deep breaths in order not to have a panic attack that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps. "Miss Munro?" She clutched her hand to her mouth to stifle a startled yelp, and when she turned around, none other than the man who had just proposed marriage to her stood there. But something was different - his mask was gone. She felt her face get hot. He was even more handsome than she had imagined it. This was about to be a disaster.

"Miss Munro, are you okay? I did not mean to startle you just now. And I did not mean to overwhelm you with the prospect of marriage. We can always take a little more time to get to know each other better." His voice was gentle, and she could feel her eyes starting to water. Sneaking into this ball was the worst idea she had ever had. "You don't want to marry me", she finally said, and she hated how her tears were audible in her voice. Anthony took a step closer to her. "What makes you think that?" Lucy's heart hammered in her chest. Now she was trapped. She couldn't just run off again. Maybe she should just come clean. He seemed like a kind enough man, he would probably excuse himself and then leave her alone and not make her any trouble.

He was looking at her expectantly, and she bit so hard down on her cheek that she was sure it must be bleeding. "I can't be your wife", she finally said. "I'm not a lady. I shouldn't even be here and I'm not who you think I am." Anthony was quiet, showing no signs of surprise. She nervously shifted her weight. She had expected him to be upset. "I'm not a Lady", she repeated herself. "I'm just a mere kitchen maid, never suitable for a man of your social standing. You should never even be seen talking to me." Her eyes were trained on the ground, and she waited for the inevitable sound of him turning around and leaving, angry at her deceit and disgusted at the fact that he had offered marriage to a kitchen maid. But he didn't leave. Instead, he asked: "Is that how you know George?" Her head shot up, surprised. "Are you not angry?"

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Anthony had no idea how to feel. What she had just told him - never in a million years would he have expected that. "Angry? Why should I be angry?" he finally asked. Yes, maybe he should be angry. He knew that that was what was expected of him. But he couldn't bring himself to anger. "I deceived you", she said, dropping her head again. Without thinking, he closed the gap between them and gently raised her chin back up with his finger until she was looking at him. Her beautiful eyes, which he now finally had the chance to truly look into, were swimming with tears. "You did not. The proposal was extended to you, not to any title you might have or not have. It's you that has captivated my every sense."

Neither of them moved. He could feel himself getting lost in her gaze, and there was a not-so-small part of him that wished he could just lean down and kiss her. But a much bigger part of him wanted something else. "Can I take off your mask?", he asked quietly. He could tell that she hesitated. "I'm not sure this is a good idea. You might be disappointed", she said finally, and he almost laughed out loud. "I don't think I will be."

She hesitated a few seconds longer, then took a step back. She raised her hand to the back of her head, but he stopped her. "Can I do it?" She nodded, and quickly started working on the tight knot. It didn't take long for him to hold the two loose ends in his hands, and he slowly took a step back. She looked at him, and for the second time this evening he felt like he couldn't breathe. "You are as beautiful as the moon and the stars, Miss Munro", he finally breathed out. The girl in front of him swallowed thickly. "That's not my real name. It's Lucy." His heart skipped a beat. He carefully took both her hands, pulling her closer to him with a smile. "Well, you are as beautiful as the moon and the stars, Lucy."

#lockwood and co advent calendar #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #regency au #locklyle regency au #anthony lockwood x lucy carlyle

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weirdowithaquill · 7 months

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Traintober 2023 is Here!

Now, I can't draw - and I'm a writer anyway, so here's 31 days worth of headcanons, rambles and short stories based on the Traintober prompts by @theflyingkipper. First time doing this, so it ought to be fun!

This is the master post, so it'll have all the links you need to find what I post this year. This page will also have this link to my Ao3 work which has the same stuff, but without pictures.

Day 1: Free Day (A ramble about preservation and Sodor) Day 2: Bridge (Rheneas, 1866) Day 3: Twins (Neil, Bill and Ben) Day 4: Devious (Diesel will forever be the most devious) Day 5: It's Only Me! (Sir Topham Hatt and Edward, a friendship in three words...) Day 6: Special Letters (A Tale of Two A1 Brothers...) Day 7: Refreshment (The Refreshment Lady is retiring...) Day 8: Bird (Cranky blames Henry for it all...) Day 9: Viaduct (Neil doesn't like the Viaduct...) Day 10: Happiest (The Engines are Happiest when...) Day 11: Roundhouse (Edward doesn't like Tidmouth Sheds...) Day 12: Something Borrowed (Maybe don't Borrow Henrietta...) Day 13: Something New (Gordon's new life on the slow trains...) Day 14: Young Iron (Ivo Hugh has some advice for a young engine...) Day 15: Maintenance (Duke Needs the Others to be Well Maintained...) Day 16: Purpose (What is an engine's purpose?) Day 17: Holiday (How Tourism on Sodor has evolved...) Day 18: Blueprints (Crovan's Gate is home to many blueprints...) Day 19: Revolutionary (What are the origins of the iconic phrase?...) Day 20: Live Wire (Edward didn't much like the telegraph wires...) Day 21: Roots (Terence does not like weeds...) Day 22: Top Hat (Sir Topham Hatt I decides to visit the railway...) Day 23: Big World (Duck manages to squirm into the BWBA movie...) Day 24: Odd Jobs (Rusty has many odd jobs...) Day 25: Distress Signal (What's out in Tidmouth Bay...) Day 26: Summit (James and the Culdee Fell Engine...) Day 27: Record-Breaker (Mallard broke the record; the record broke Mallard) Day 28: Which Way Now (An engine gets lost in the fog...) Day 29: Out of Service (Oliver wasn't the only engine in that siding...) Day 30: Middle of Nowhere (They should have left that part of the island alone) Day 31: Lights Out (Don't let the lights go out at Crovan's Gate)

#fanfiction writer #railway series #weirdowithaquill #thomas the tank engine #railways #traintober #traintober 2023 #ttte #masterlist #ao3 link

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iheartsunset · 1 year

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Papa Louie Family HCs (part 1)

(Here are some hcs I have of how some of the characters are related! I’ve been wanting to do this and a last names hc list for a long time)

It’s canon that Roy and Joy are siblings, but I headcanon for their dad to be Guy Mortadello. I also headcanon that he’s Papa Louie’s twin brother, and that they had some kind of falling out as young adults. Roy is very suspicious and has been getting close to finding this all out, but Joy has already known for years. This family is a mess.

Prudence is Rudy’s older half sister. I headcanon that his mother and her father were business partners whose affair resulted in Rudy being born. The two were actually very close childhood friends, not knowing about the affair and not understanding why their parents all hated each other. They reunited at a workers meeting after like 10 years once Papa’s Cheeseria opened, and they also discovered that they were siblings. They get along very well, and they’re trying to get their parents to be civil with each other.

Connor and LePete are also half siblings! And I agree with @maznanangy’s headcanon that Daniela is LePete’s mom. She’s stationed in Calypso Island while LePete lives with Connor, his dad, and Connor’s mom in Burgerburgh. Whenever he and his dad have an argument, he runs off to stay with her for a few days (which is a lot). Connor and Lisa always end up running after him. Connor and Daniela have a good relationship too, and she calls him to let him know that LePete is safe whenever he leaves.

Olivia is Koilee’s older cousin. They both grew up in Sakura Bay and were so close, they considered each other as sisters. Koilee was shy and withdrawn from being bullied as a kid, but Olivia was quite popular and threw lots of parties. They grew apart after Olivia graduated and moved back to Portallini, her hometown, and when Koilee was stuck in her 2 month long delinquent phase. Now that Koilee’s graduated, they visit each other a lot more and have maintained good contact. Olivia calls Koilee Lee-Lee and Koilee calls Olivia Livvie. Koilee sometimes gets roped into helping Olivia plan and attend parties.

(Bonus: I believe that Koilee and Carlo both called Olivia to inform her that they were robbed by Guy Mortadello in the beginning of Scooperia. She laughed at them so hard over the phone and called them idiots. When she was swindled into working for the Cluckeria, Koilee paid her back by laughing hysterically at her over the phone)

Rita is Cecilia’s older cousin, and unlike Koilee and Olivia, they have a tumultuous relationship. Growing up, Rita resented Cecilia for constantly disrespecting her kind parents and taking their support of her dancing for granted. Meanwhile, Cecilia hated Rita because she was always being compared to her. They always end d up getting explosive fights once they were adults. After Papa and the other workers staged an intervention for them, their relationship got slightly better once they talked out their feelings. Now, they’re incredibly civil, but still occasionally bicker.

I also headcanon Georgito as being Rita and Cecilia’s uncle. He’s the cool uncle who always brought them gifts and gave them advice when they were both younger. He’s very concerned with how much they fight, and he’s thankful to Papa Louie for helping them work through it. He likes to support Cecilia when she does dance competition and also enjoys giving Rita advice for her business ventures.

Ivy is Hacky Zak and CJ Friskins’ mother. Duke Gotcha is Hacky Zak’s father, while CJ Friskins’ father is unknown. Crystal is his aunt and legal guardian, and they’re very close. Ivy avoids them like the plague, Hacky Zak pretends they don’t exist, and CJ Friskins always bothers them for some quality family bonding time.

Liezel is Drakson’s younger sister. He’s her tough and emo older brother who barely shows any emotions, meanwhile she always happily drags him along on any workouts or shopping trips with her friends. He’s like her bodyguard and closest confidant.

I forgot my own hcs, but I think I said that Kaleb is Kayla’s younger cousin? He’s very interested in filmmaking and loves to follow Kayla’s career. She always offers to star in or help produce one of his films, but he always refuses in order to not be known as “Kayla’s cousin.”

Rollie is Lisa’s younger cousin. Lisa often looks out for them because of their sickly disposition, something that Rollie secretly hates. They have a very normal relationship, and Rollie also gets along well with Fernanda and Franco.

Cooper, Radlynn, Mary, and Penny joke that they’re cousins because of how similar they look. Greg found out during a class project that Mary is his and Cooper’s third cousin twice removed (however that “removed” thing works).

Chuck and Taylor are foster brothers. Taylor was in the foster system and came to live with Chuck and his mother. They were awkward at first, but they grew closer after Chuck’s mother passed away. They consider each other to be both best friends and brothers.

#papa louie #flipline studios #flipline #my hcs #Koilee #papa louie olivia #papa louie roy #papa louie joy #guy mortadello is roy and joy’s dad #chuck and taylor are bros #papa louie rita #papa louie rollie

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godfrey-the-chaos-duck · 10 months

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The Ballad of the Archangel Gabriel!

THIS IS AN ESSAY. LONG POST. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Let me open by saying I LOVE Good Omens. I also absolutely LOVE DuckTales, especially the 2017 show. And with the whole thing in Good Omens season 2 about Gabriel losing his memory, I couldn't help but compare it to a DuckTales episode wherein a similar thing happens - a character who is a renowned asshole forgets who he is.

Case in point: Flintheart Glomgold in DuckTales 2017, Season 2 Episode 3, "The Ballad of Duke Baloney!"

(Rest of the essay under the cut)

So, for anyone who needs a refresher, here is some context.

At the end of Season 1 of DuckTales 2017, in "The Shadow War!", second-richest duck in the world and Scrooge McDuck's chief rival, Flintheart Glomgold, gets yeeted (yote?) out the window of his office building by his own shadow, which, thanks to powerful sorceress Magica DeSpell, has taken on a life of its own. He falls into the icy depths of Duckburg Bay, and no-one really knows what happens to him.

Until, that is, at the beginning of "The Ballad Of Duke Baloney!" when we see that he was rescued by two fisherpeople, and seems to have no memory of who he is.

A news report then tells us that it has been four months since Glomgold disappeared.

Cut to Louie Duck and Webby Vanderquack, Scrooge's great-nephew and honorary niece, on a little boat by the docks, clearly fishing. They go up to get bait, and see that the man selling it looks a lot like Glomgold.

However, he doesn't act like him. He introduces himself as Duke Baloney, has a bushy black beard, and a South African accent (starkly different to his usual Scottish one). Naturally, Webby and Louie are confused. Louie seems convinced Glomgold is faking amnesia as part of some evil scheme, while Webby believes he really needs help.

Then, later in the episode, the fisher-couple that saved Glomgold (sorry - Duke) explain that they found him in the bay with no memories.

A bunch of other stuff happens that I won't get into, but the ending of the episode happens with Glomgold remembering who he is and going back to being, well... him.

Now, you may be wondering, "Godfrey, what the hell does this have to do with Good Omens?!"

Well.

In the Season 2 trailer, it's revealed that Gabriel is the amnesiac angel we've been hearing about, proving many fans right!

In the trailer, there is a blink-and-you-miss-it moment where Gabriel is looking at a statue of, wouldn't ya know it, The Archangel Gabriel, and his eyes flash purple for a fraction of a second. I think he might be remembering something.

So, I'm thinking that Gabriel's arc will play out somewhat similarly to Glomgold's in "The Ballad Of Duke Baloney" - Aziraphale being concerned, maybe Crowley being more begrudging about helping him (Azi definitely loses this patience as time goes on though!!) and it becomes a Whole Thing.

Especially with the whole "Surrender The Angle" thing and Aziraphale saying "I think I may have just started a war...."

Now, I am perfectly willing to be one hundred percent wrong-o about all of this. I just wanted to share my thoughts on the matter.

#the chaos duck has spoken #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #good omens #good omens season 2 #the ballad of duke baloney #random theories over here #the archangel fucking gabriel

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seabreeze2022 · 1 year

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2023 Bahamas Cruise, Part 18, Apr. 12. Weather hold on Long Island.

What do you do when the water is this clear and calm? Jump in! Bahamas are not all beaches, pina coladas and “green flash” sunsets. After these two flat calm days, the next two days we were surrounded by storms from a stalled cold front. Miami flooded with 8” of rain in two days. Yet, we never really got rain.

Easter Sunday, I dropped off Nancy at the closest dinghy dock to St. Joseph’s Anglican/Episcopal church in Thompson Bay. You can just barely see it in the background behind her. Around fifty people were in attendance. She had met most of them during our time on the Island. A much more reserved service, than last years service in Black Point. No tambourines, no kids choir, and a third the time. Fifty/fifty men and women, where Black Point was a high majority of women.

After dropping Nancy off, I swung by the Thompson Bay Yacht Club. Cruisers over time have set up a small picnic area on shore here, dubbed TBYC. No one was here. Only two of us are anchored in the bay now. Then I headed back to the boat for boat chores. Took the trash to shore. Filled the water tank using our water maker. Trickle charged the start battery and fixed a thing or two.

Nancy called on the VHF radio for a pick up at Basil’s dock. Once we got back to the boat, we lifted the anchor and headed north. Great wind from the west for sailing on a beam reach. Nancy baked bread while the boat was heeled 10-15 degrees to starboard.

Fresh Coconut cinnamon bread!

Just before the two loaves of Coconut cinnamon bread came out of the oven we sailed over the Tropic of Cancer northbound. Coordinates are displayed on the top left of the chart plotter, N23 26.031 Actual Longitude of the Tropic of Cancer North 23 degrees 26 minutes and 10 seconds. We anchored off of Simms Settlement on Long Island. That is where you see Nancy jumping off the boat. She paddleboared along the shore. While I made water on the boat.

Nancy caught mid flight playing around and cooling off some.

The next day we dinghied to Simms Government Dock where the mail boat comes in. With a west wind blowing the dinghy against the sharp rocks. I sent Nancy on walk about, while I oared around in the dinghy. She visited the prison and several graveyards. The prison and most buildings in town had outhouses near them. Not sure if either the outhouse or prison have been used in recent history. Think Mayberry RFD, Bahama out island style.

Just before we left for shore another monohull sailboat pulled into OUR anchorage. This is OUR anchorage damn it! As soon as we got back to the boat we pulled anchor and went north around the next point. I had gotten lazy and forgot to check the charts. We went from 7 ft. depth to 5 ft. in a couple of seconds. Oops! I went to idle and started the turn back to deep water. Too late…..squeakkkkk. We had skidded to a stop in pure white sand. Quick check of the shore for current tide. Looks kind of low. Pull up weather app. we are close to low. Had this been a sailing YouTube channel. All sorts of drama could be made up. Water was flat calm. First dropped the 55 pound anchor and twenty feet of chain that weighs 1 lb. per foot. The chain laid over the top of the anchor in a pile. Had some snacks and a beer. Went swimming. Walked chest deep around the boat. Nancy jumped off the boat and hit bottom doing so. Wind changed 180 degrees and picked up enough to move the boat when we floated free. So pulled in the pile of chain with the anchor suspended above the sand. Couple of hours later…..we floated free after dark. Waited until 7 ft. showed on the depth finder. Then drop the anchor and chain, then went to bed. Next morning we snorkeled around the boat.

This blue tip crab put up his dukes, when I stopped by. Reviewing weather, anchorages and possible plans we decided to sail back to Thompson Bay. Then rent a car and tour the north end of the island. Wind was on our nose, so we only sailed an hour; then motored to Thompson Bay. In between rain storms we took 4 jerry jugs to Long Island Petroleum for diesel and gas. Had a great talk with Walter Fox the part owner.

On Wednesday when the weather seemed to break. We hiked over the island to the ocean side, then south along the beach for a mile. Then back across the island to the “Sou’ side” (Sound side) of the island. Round trip walking was a little over 3 miles. We were hot and tired with nothing but photos to show for our beach hike. We are surprised that little to no shells on the reef side of the island. Today though we were both looking for Ambergris. Found lots of tar balls, but no ambergris.

On the way to the dinghy we stopped at the “Sou’ side” bar for a cold Kalik beer and cracked chicken. Then back to the boat.

Rainbow over Salt Pond at the end of the day.

S/V Sea Breeze, Thompson Bay, Long Island, Bahamas.

#seabreeze2022 #seabreeze2023 #exuma

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jabbage · 11 months

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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frosted-clouds · 2 years

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What?? what are you doing with your magic ?

Well-

That’s mostly correct. To be specific, I’m abusing the part where not only can ones magic not affect another person, but it also cannot affect the user, what looks like freezing here is more a flexible layer of ice, almost like cloth, that’s connected to my clothes. Unfortunately, I have to continually freeze it with my magic as body heat alone would melt it, but because it always has my magic directly affecting it, It can never directly freeze me as that would be against the Mystic Rights.

It also works rather well as an environmental shield as well as a way to mostly deflect electricity as it can somewhat conduct it.

In all honesty, not many. While I received quite a few injuries, only two look like they’ll scar externally, and only one of the attacks I had to deal with put my life in serious danger.

No. That seems like a terrible gamble, besides we’re around halfway done with this anyway. I only need to last a bit longer.

No. This is a rather abnormal situation. Because the title of “Prince” is so highly coveted, and given that many were unhappy with my appointment to Duke, you can imagine the distain from some of me being Prince.

From there, I don’t know who, but someone found my blog while I was busy getting a tutorial on princely duties. They found the posts around my ice magic and even if they didn’t believe it, something like that is more than enough to start a rumor, and start a rumor it did.

Many practically rioted, claiming I wasn’t a true citizen of Stratoverse, but thankfully Queen Virga happened to be paying Amaryllis a visit the day things became really bad.

In order to quell the unrest, she declared that my position, and in turn citizenship would only be revoked when the title of Prince was stripped from me in combat. I do so wish she had worded that better.

As soon as she left, things calmed for a bit, until someone realized that the Queen had said specifically “combat” not a “duel” which meant that many people against one was technically fair.

I managed to hold my ground for around a month without reveling my abilities in earnest, but when it started becoming 6 on 1 I was forced to confirm the rumors, and now everyone knows.

This last month though was particularly bad. At some point, people stopped caring about any form of organized fight, and all joined together to chase me out, and the only solace I had was escaping to my island to rest, but they eventually found that too. I had to use hit and run tactics to hold them at bay, and it was only then I realized that if I end this M!A everything should return to how it was before I was found out.

So I made that audio post as an announcement, and to try to get a few more asks, and shortly after was...

...injured.

sigh... This is going on far too long, but anyway, no, princes normally receive very little opposition, including Prince Cirrus, as they’ve proved their strength already by receiving the title.

(( M!A: The Blog Prince 4/10 ))

#That was... more verbose than I would have liked #apologies- I try not to make these longer than they need to be normally #especially since I now do not care who sees anything on here #ic #ask #greenbloodedskink #thebestassistant #anonymous #((he's not exactly holding up great))#((I'm sure you all saw his fear of being cast out))#((and now it's finally happened))#M!A: The Blog Prince #4/10

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 1 month

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A Pizza A Day Keeps The Villians At Bay

by Serendipindots In Gotham a 24/7 fast food joint, or a bar that serves meals all night long is pretty standard. However those places tend to be in the “nicer” parts of town, and definitely don't do deliveries. Especially at night. So obviously there's a market for a night time delivery service that will bring you your food *anywhere* in the city. That's where Dyzzy plans to make their fortune, after all, a delivery job can be pretty easy to run if you're a meta who can teleport. Or A way too cheerful teenager gets adopted by the batfam, most gangs, and several villains for willingly venturing into war zones and climbing buildings to get them their food. Words: 1865, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014), Justice League - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Oracle, Justice League (DCU), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Robin (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Batfamily Members (DCU), Alfred the Cat (DCU), Damian Wayne's Pets, Harleen Quinzel, Original Characters Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Nonbinary Character, LGBTQ Character, Protective Bruce Wayne via https://ift.tt/8JCpOiT

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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fuckyouozai · 1 year

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more fic stuff

so i have the ba sing se part of the lu ten fic but i’m thinking about iroh going and telling him he has to get out NOW, like RIGHT, NOW, because the city is about to fall and he will be executed if he’s found. so lu ten takes his husband and her wife and their son (it’s complicated) and meets up with the water tribe in chameleon bay in anticipation of the invasion?? somehow all that gets relayed to him?? and lu ten would admit his true identity and offer himself to hakoda as a prisoner but at that point they’d have to leave fast so he’d just say we’ll figure that out later grab some supplies and help load the ships. or something

anyway saisha & kyorei and the baby are all there tho they’re very like. sits squished on a couch awkwardly. but lu ten helps them to successfully capture the ship they have in the awakening and gets them information that helps them from being discovered, so he becomes part of their intelligence. kyorei keeps his distance but saisha immediately is like oh i can help patch up armor :) and ravi becomes EVERYONES FAVORITE PERFECT LITTLE BOY!!!!! and they stay with the fleet until the invasion but then lu ten nervously asks to speak to hakoda to tell him he can’t join the rest of them on the invasion but before he gets it out hakoda is like listen. i don’t think you should come with us. and lu ten is like oh fr me too

because 1) he’s a firebender so will be useless 2) he’s their best intelligence asset and they can’t risk losing him and 3) ravi needs him ): not to mention kyorei who is so ptsd’d from battle that if she so much as saw one person firebend at her she would simply die on the spot

so lu ten, saisha, kyorei, and ravi wind up in the fire nation colonies boonies and hakoda says if all goes well, we’ll see you soon

all does not go well ):

in the western air temple when they’re talking about fire nation teachers maybe aang can suggest lu ten but sokka is like no, he told us he doesn’t firebend anymore, and we are NOT putting ravi in danger. and everyone is like oh shit yeah we can’t endanger ravi our best friend ravi

maybe hakoda, haru, teo, and the duke wind up reconnecting with lu ten? what was hakoda doing during the comet. hm

anyway imagine you defeat your dad and become fire lord and then your dead cousin shows up like ZUZU MY GUY

#fics #for my reference

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rosesfromtheheart · 1 year

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Roses from the Heart bonnet tributes to King Island

Group photo included shows from left to right:

Linda Payne, myself - Christina Henri, Janine Bayne and Lindy McAllister (née Davis).

One of our group, Kate Powell, took this photograph during the Mocktail Party. This was the final event of my Roses from the Heart, Bonnets and Boats Exhibition run in conjunction with Liz Virtue, Glen Derwent; potter Lee Farrell and members of the Wooden Boat Guild of Tasmania.

I am indebted to Rob Virtue for the use of his wooden dinghy in which the bonnets acknowledging the women travelling aboard the Neva were placed. I deliberately chose the Glen Derwent verandah for the ‘farewell’ ceremony. Standing on the wooden boards with the sky in sight, the cold air closing in and wind gusts manifesting helped create more of an affinity with the elements.

The group photo enclosed was taken at the completion of Sharon Hutchison reading aloud each name of the women and children aboard the ill-fated Neva. Sharon is one of my Roses from the Heart bonnet making group that meets regularly at Glen Derwent. Throughout the Bonnets and Boats Exhibition Sharon and fellow group member, Ruth Binny, performed a short play that looked at the Neva experience though the eyes of two survivors, Rose Ann Dunn (referred to in the play as ‘Rosie’) and Ann Cullen.

Sharon has a lovely soft accent, perfect for the solemness of the occasion as she read out the women and their children’s names. A Canadian, Sharon hails from the Maritimes Region of Eastern Canada (most specifically Nova Scotia and Newfoundland). Living on Newfoundland, Sharon had a connection by way of place, to the transportation era via the Duke of Leinster voyage that left Dublin in 1789 with 102 convict men and boys and 12 convict women. The captain landed most of the contingent of convicts at Bay Bulls on July 15th and the following day 17 more convicts disembarked at Petty Harbour, Newfoundland. Documentation shows a number of the convicts appeared to have been suffering from typhus.[1]This history deserves being told in detail as a separate story. Amongst the literature on the Duke of Leinsterwell researched articles such as Jerry Barristers’ Convict Transportation and the Colonial State in Newfoundland, 1789[2] were most insightful. In the context of this article I suspect readers would be surprised to learn that on the 24th October 1789, 74 of the men and six of the women were returned to England, sailing out of St John’s harbour, aboard the brig the Elizabeth and Clare. According to Barbara Hall[3] 23 of those [male] convicts were included amongst the consignment of convicts travelling aboard the Queen from Cobh, County Cork, Ireland in 1791, destination New South Wales, Australia.Roses from the Heart bonnet tributes have been created by Canadian women acknowledging the 12 Duke of Leinster women. These bonnets have been displayed in the Colchester Museum, Truro. Since the enclosed group photo was taken the Roses from the Heart bonnets remembering the Neva women and children have arrived safely on King Island, travelling across Bass Strait on the John Duigan. Linda Payne has now collected the bonnets and the two sponsored ‘convict dolls’. A massive thank you to Linda/ King Island Lions Club for taking on the custodianship of these particular bonnet tributes. Also enormous thanks to Kate Powell whose tailoring and embroidery skills shine through in each ‘convict doll’ she creates from pre-loved porcelain dolls.It is a lovely coincidence that two of the Roses from the Heart bonnet makers who are part of my Glen Derwent, New Norfolk group have a relationship to King Island. They have both been keen to be involved in a tangible acknowledgment of the women and children aboard the ill-fated Neva through the sponsorship of a ‘convict doll’. Lindy McAllister counts herself fortunate to have been born on King Island. Her early childhood was spent on the island until the family moved away in the early 1950s, as she describes ‘to the big island’.

That sense of connection to one’s place of birth has an enormous bearing for so many and for Lindy that is no exception.

Following my decision to present two ‘convict dolls’, one to the King Island Lions Club for permanent display at the Reekara Community Centre and one to the Historical Society for permanent exhibiting at the King Island Historical Museum[3] Lindy was very keen to be a sponsor. It is easy to see from the photo that she chose a fine doll from her own collection to be converted into a ‘convict lass’, representing 20 year old Rose Ann Dunn from Cavan. Rose Ann was one of the six convict women to survive the shipwreck.[4]

Since joining the bonnet making get-togethers at Glen Derwent Lindy has been fashioning captivating Roses from the Heart bonnet tributes integrating doillies and tablecloths as embellishment. Excitingly during this time she has become aware she has a female convict ancestor of her very own.

On reading Lindy’s words it is obvious this ‘convict doll’ sponsorship is extremely meaningful to her.

“On leaving the island in the 50’s…. there was always a call for my birthplace. The opportunity arose in being involved with the honouring of these lost lasses by way of a memorial [‘convict doll’]. In having a daughter of my own 34 years ago, I bought several porcelain heritage dolls for her. Now knowing they weren’t exactly play toys I stored them away until now, I thought it would be poignant to donate this particular doll with the same character traits as [Rose Ann Dunn], being a lasting tribute for Rosanne a survivor of the Neva.

An overwhelming heartfelt feeling of nostalgia in sending her home to my birthplace has taken a part of my heart with her. Safe passage”.

Janine Bayne has a strong relationship with King Island and this bond inspired her to sponsor a ‘convict doll’ acknowledging the life of 64 year old Johanna Galvin from Limerick. Johanna was amongst the 224 that did not survive the Neva catastrophe.

Janine was drawn to Johanna Galvin’s circumstances. A widow and mother of 5 daughters, from 3 Mary Street, Limerick there was no social welfare support to fall back on. Her husband dead and a large family to feed times must surely have been tough. Research shows Johanna obtained money and wearing apparel under false pretences resulting in a sentence of 7 years Transportation to the colonies. Two of Johanna’s daughters, 30 year old Johanna Sweeney and already widowed 28 year old Bridget Hayes along with her infant child were also sentenced to 7 years transportation at the same time. Two weeks later a third daughter, Ellen Galvin, aged 19 received a 7 year sentence. Fortunately for Johanna’s daughter Bridget she was not aboard the Neva. Bridget was transported aboard the Roslin Castle which arrived safely in New South Wales in 1836.

Neither Johanna Galvin nor her daughter Johanna Sweeney survived the wreck of the Neva. Daughter, Ellen Galvin was amongst the six female convict Neva survivors.

Janine Bayne moved to King Island with her late husband Peter in 1980. In the many years Janine was on the island she embroiled herself within community life. Amongst the list of endeavours she undertook Janine was the King Island Drama and Regional Arts Secretary and thespian. In a lovely link to the site where the Roses from the Heart bonnets remembering the Neva women and children will be exhibited, Janine once worked at the Reekara School as the office lady, teacher aide and library aide.

Over the years Janine and her friend Judy Cooper ran the Penny Wickham Tea Rooms and both ladies also ran a busy cottage business, King Island Naturals, making jumpers and children’s bootees from their very own Moorit bred sheep.

It is significant that the Bayne and Payne families have been friends since the 1980s making Linda Payne’s guardianship of the bonnets and the ‘convict dolls’ on King Island special.

I am so grateful that Linda Payne understood my vision of having Roses from the Heart bonnet tributes to the Neva women and children exhibited permanently both in Cobh at the Cobh Heritage Centre and also on King Island. These token mementos mark the beginning and the end of the Neva’s journey. The symbolic bonnets embody the feelings of the bonnet makers as they stitched and embellished fabric into a tactile offering, recognition that these women and their children’s lives mattered.

Within this particular collection of Roses from the Heart bonnets I am mindful that a mere six convict women lived out of the 159 women travelling on board the Neva in 1835. In this month of March, a month designated to remembering the history of women it seems relevant to reflect on Australia’s second largest maritime disaster and be mindful of those who died. Also understanding that those who survived would have endured consequential trauma throughout their lives.

[1] colloquially referred to as gaol fever

[2] https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/Acadiensis/article/view/10845/11667[3] Barbara Hall, The Irish Vanguard, The Convicts of the Queen, Ireland to Botany Bay, 1791, Barbara Hall, 2009, p xv

[3] Appreciation to Luke Agati for his interest in exhibiting ‘convict doll’ representing Rose Ann Dunn

[4] In The Wreck of the Neva, Mercier Press, 2013, Cal McCarthy and Kevin Todd allocate an entire chapter, Chpt 13, pps 222-241 to ‘Life after the Neva’. Further information on the 6 surviving convict women is included.

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tpplus · 1 year

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Tagata Pasifika – The Pacific news NZ television

The 2013 Census listed 295,941 Pacific people, accounting for 7.4 percent of the total New Zealand population. The number of people classifying with the Pacific peoples ethnic group was up 11.3 percent from the 2006 Census population of 265,974.

In Census 2013, over a third (35.7 percent) of Pacific peoples were aged under 15 years, as compared to just a fifth (20.4 percent) of the total population

Pacific youth (15–24-year-old) made up a fifth (19.2 percent) of the Pacific population compared with a seventh (13.8 percent) of the total population

The median age for Pacific peoples in 2013 was 22.1 years, in comparison to 38.0 years for the total population

Pacific peoples who were aged 65 years and over made-up 4.7 percent of the Pacific population, compared with 14.3 percent of the total population

Two thirds (65.9 percent) of Pacific peoples in New Zealand live in the Auckland region. This was followed by Wellington (12.2 percent), Waikato (5.0 percent), Canterbury (4.3 percent), Bay of Plenty (2.6 percent), Manawatu-Whanganui (2.5 percent) and then Hawke’s Bay (2.1 percent).

The elements of Pacific peoples’ bad health are too many and complex. The factors that have been known to have the deepest influence on health for Pacific peoples were socio-cultural and economic. Education level is noteworthy followed by employment status, occupation, income and housing.Pacific community is exposed to upper levels of health risks and unwholesomebehaviors. In 2006, 43 percent of Pacific people lived in housing defined as packed, in comparison to five percent of Europeans.

And when it comes to care for the Pacific community in New Zealand, it is necessary for people to have the latest update on the running activities. And one proven way to do that is to ensure easy access to the latest news on the Pacific community. Though there are numerous news mediums available to people, not all of them are trustworthy and authentic. However, there is one name that can be known to resonate the real Pacific news in nz by covering each & every aspect of Pacific people from sports to politics, entertainment, fashion and other sectors – Tagata Pasifika.

The news section claims to be the Pacific news in NZ provides latest news around each & every activity in the community. No matter in which parts of the world you are and what your preferred interest area is, chances are high of getting the authentic information right in front of you.

Tagata Pasifika manifested a change in Pacific people’s presence on television. Efforts over the decades were made to have an authentic Pacific voice coming from the Pacific Communities who make Aotearoa their home.Tagata Pasifika is TVNZ's flagship Pacific news show, conveying the tales of Pacific Islanders and its community. Made with the support of NZ on Air.

TVNZ is New Zealand's state-owned, commercially supported broadcaster. TVNZ is primarily involved into sharing the moments that make a difference - whether it's breaking news, following adventures, sharing stories or putting smiles on faces.

Each day, TVNZ reaches more than 2 million New Zealanders through channels TVNZ 1, 2, DUKE and online platform TVNZ OnDemand. Popular news site 1news.co.nz and socially-driven online news brand Re: connect Kiwis to the gravematters throughout the day, however they chose to connect with.

#Pacific news in nz

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cesabutterflywrites · 4 years

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The Duke of the Bay: Part 1

This is the Mob AU I’ve been talking about for so long. It was inspired by a request sent in by @littlestr. I hope you enjoy! I’ve been having so much fun writing this. Ao3 Link

Next Part

If you want to be put on a taglist for this please let me know!

[Spotify Playlist] [Youtube Playlist]

I’m a big sucker for the 20s-40s era of history, as I grew up with a famous grandfather who played that music in a piano bar up until he died in 2018. This is a Mob AU.

Warnings: Guns, threats, alcohol, sexist remarks, homosexual slang used pejoratively and positively, ask me to add any if need be

Chapter Word Count: 3116

Summary: Patton O’Hearty was a great detective. Most people didn’t take him for one at first glance, especially when he dressed casual. He was abnormally chipper; he thought everything was the cat’s pajamas. He had a smile for everyone he met. He was always tipping his hat at the dames and gents when he walked the streets of the Bay Area.

The only person he could never catch was the leader of the planted mob in Emeryville, nicknamed The Duke. The Duke was good at hiding his dealings and joints well, and he rarely had a snitch in his ranks. The few who tried, well, somehow they disappeared before they could give the police any substantial information. He was well hidden, but popular among the residents of the town. People talked boldly of his rambunctious parties, never revealing the locations though. He was hard to catch, to say the least.

So what happens, when instead, the detective is the one that’s caught?

Part 1

Detective O’Hearty was tall and slender, with a mop of reddish-brown curls that could barely be tamed. He had dark brown eyes that surprised many with their playful stare. He always had a coin to spare for friends who needed it. He was a model detective, and he did his job well. Always brought the drunks in calmly, always had a way of getting suspects to confess with guilt, and he never fired the gun on his belt.

He always walked to work. He loved saying hi to his fellow townsfolk in the mornings. There was Joe the barber, who was always sweeping his doorstep when Patton walked by. He made a point to pause so the detective could walk through.

There was Jefferson, who owned the news stand on the corner by the police station. He always offered to give Patton a free copy of the paper every morning, and the good detective always declined. If he needed a paper, he’d pay for it. “Like a normal, everyday man.”

There were also the normal passerby he made a point to say hello to. He felt that greeting people with a smile was a good way to share his love, and it always put him in a good mood when he walked into work.

Patton made his way into the police station, a small building with only two holding cells, a few desks, and an office for the captain. Patton made his way to his desk, hanging up his hat and coat. He grunted as he sat down, looking at the various papers covering the desk. He tried his best to make it neat before his partner got in for his shift. He wasn’t in the mood for another lecture from the cold detective.

As if on cue, Detective Logan Smith walked in swiftly.

The younger detective was sharp as a whip, and he dressed the part. His slacks were always pressed, his shirts were crisp, and his black hair was slicked back tightly even after being under a hat or in the rain for hours. He had ice blue eyes, which always seemed half present. When one looked in them, there was always a gear turning somewhere in his mind. His jaw was always set, which had a tendency to put people off.

If Patton was warm and bright, his partner was cold and shut off. He was good for investigating, up to a point. Patton had a way with people, and Logan had a way with patterns. He was sharp when given a puzzling case, though there was something he lacked when it came to mingling with his peers. He had a tendency to get frustrated when confused, which got him in trouble once or twice. Particularly when dealing with the women.

Logan’s mouth was set in a frown as he walked to his desk. His eyebrows were creased with worry. Patton knew enough of his partner after three years to notice that he had something mulling around in his mind. The shorter man sat down at the desk pushed up across Patton’s, and he immediately opened one of their smaller files.

Patton was a bit shocked that the man hadn’t greeted him like normal, not even making a comment about his disorganized workspace.

“Logan, everything okay?” he asked with concern. “Logan,” he said louder when there was no response.

Logan jumped, too caught up in the case he was looking through to notice his partner. “Yeah, Pat, I just had something strange happen this morning that might really help one of our cases.”

“Which one?” Patton asked, though he suspected the answer.

“The Duke,” Logan paused. “I got word from a note in my mailbox that he was hosting a shindig tomorrow night at seven o’clock. They left the address, and included invitations with false names to use to get in.”

“Is that so…?” Patton leaned back in his seat, tapping a pencil against his chin in thought. Was this a chance to catch the man causing a ruckus in his town? The thought of putting the man behind bars was pleasant enough to make him want to go in immediately.

“I think we need to speak to the captain, Pat. Only the captain,” Logan leaned over the desk to whisper conspiratorially, “I suspect a plant in our midst.”

“No way, Logan,” Patton denied, “There’s no way any of our guys would be bought out by the Duke. It goes against everything we believe in. We’re not like those flacks in Chicago.”

Logan leaned back and scoffed. “Don’t be naive, Pat. He came to our town loaded, and he’s making money by the minute off the people he’s duped. He’s got the cash, and frankly I’m suspicious of the tip in the first place.

“The world isn’t the same as it used to be,” Logan pointed out sympathetically.

“Well...I do agree we should go straight to the captain. Just to get time to prep for what we wanna do.” Patton paused, “Wait, what do we want to do? We can’t just leave it unaddressed.”

Logan smirked, “I think we’re going to go to a party, Pat.”

-----

The party was in full swing when they arrived. The event was at a speakeasy in a large house in Oakland. It wasn’t the type of event the pair of detectives were used to, but they got in easily enough. They had their pieces hidden, hoping not to be searched. They were going into the Lion’s Den. Logan suspected it was a trap, but Patton wasn’t too sure about that yet.

The large doorman took their invitations with raised brows. “Mr. James Ryder and Mr. Harry Hyde. Welcome.”

They walked into the front room of the large Victorian. A small band was set up in the corner on a raised platform, playing a jazz tune Patton didn’t recognize. He admired it, though. The joint had a certain...charm he appreciated.

The inside of the home seemed bigger than outside. The room to their right was where the music and dancers were. Ahead of them was another room with a bar, table of food, and some small dining tables with white cloths. It looked more like a restaurant with a dance floor than a house.

To their left was a staircase, and next to it a narrow hallway that was dark. Next to that was where the coat room was. The undercover detectives dropped their hats and coats off, then made their way to the dance room.

The folks seemed to be jiving along. There was pure laughter and conversation echoing off of the walls. Patton grinned, partially excited to find out what the night would bring. He did see the draw in for the crowd. He looked at Logan to see what he thought.He saw his partner was frowning, and chuckled to himself.

There were men and women mingling in sinful ways that made Logan’s stomach turn with nerves. The bodies were pressed up together in a primal heat that he couldn’t look away from. Many women looked at him like they were starving, causing him to sweat. He had never been close to a woman, let alone put his hands on them. He fumbled with the vocabulary cards in his pocket.

“Got your cards, Logan?” Patton asked slowly, careful to not be heard.

Logan just nodded, sweat starting to form on his face. His breathing was turning shallow, the room was getting warmer, and the amount of people in the room caused him some discomfort. He felt that his tie was too tight, and tugged on his collar to loosen the grip around his throat.

Patton noticed Logan starting to lose his cool, so he pulled him into a lone hallway away from the crowd. “You good, bud?”

Logan nodded, taking out a kerchief to dab at his temples. “Yes, yes I’m good. It was just a bit hot in there, that’s all.”

Patton grinned, “Welcome to the swingin’ life, Logan.”

Once Logan had calmed down enough, they made their way to the bar setup. There was enough liquid evidence behind the counter to put everyone in the house away for a while. Some bottles were decorative enough to draw anyone in to consume the spirits inside.

Patton wasn’t particularly interested, and Logan was downright terrified. However, in order to keep appearances, they needed to pretend they were there for what everyone else was there for.

“Got any gin?” Patton asked, leaning his elbow on the counter smoothly, a confident smile on his face. He was good at setting folks at ease.

The bartender nodded, “One or two?”

“Two, I’m getting some for my friend here,” Patton patted Logan’s stiff shoulder in jest, “Poor man’s wife is a bearcat. I’m here to show him a good time.”

The man behind the counter cracked a smile. “I get it, I got a Dumb Dora at home. This is the only place where I can catch a break. Two gins, coming right up.”

Logan shuffled nervously, leaning in to whisper in Patton’s ear while the man was turned, “What was that?”

“Look at your cards,” Patton whispered back.

Logan nodded, discreetly pulling out the notecards in his pocket. Once he shuffled through them, he nodded in understanding. He secretly wondered how Patton knew the slang, but decided to save that mystery for later.

They grabbed their drinks and walked back to the party. Patton leaned against the wall to watch the room. The music wafted over him in good rhythm as he sipped his drink. He grinned when Logan looked at him sharply. “Relax, it’s to blend in.”

He puckered his lips at the taste. It had been a while since his last taste of liquor. He made sure he only nursed it slowly, not wanting to make a spectacle of himself. He noticed through the corner of his eye that his partner was sniffing his drink with a distasteful frown.

He observed the people in the room. It was mostly full of couples dancing uninhibited by societal pressures to the music. Young girls looked at the men with sultry expressions, and the men gazed back with a beast’s hunger. Young and old, man and woman-they all were under the spell of the jazzy atmosphere. The tension was pulsing through the room with heat. Patton’s neck sweat a little, though he blamed it on the tobacco smoke clouding the room.

Two young girls walked up to him and Logan, swaying their hips seductively. Patton smirked, curious as to how Logan would take to being the object of a woman’s lustful gaze. He chugged the last of his drink, grinning brightly. Perhaps the dolls could guide their way for the evening.

“Hey, ladies, to what do we owe the pleasure?” He asked smoothly.

The blonde one giggled into her brunette friend’s ear. “Well,” the brunette spoke with a southern drawl, “My cousin here was wondering if you and your friend wanted to dance with us.”

Logan choked on his drink, and the girls laughed. “He’s a shy one, isn’t he?” the brunette asked Patton. Patton just nodded, chuckling at his friend’s wide eyes staring at the blonde slinking towards him.

“Don’t worry, sugar,” the blonde spoke, “I won’t bite. Just one little dance with a lonely girl?”

Logan looked to Patton, panicked. A silent question in his eyes- What about the Duke? What about the cover? Patton winked, “It’s just a dance, Logan. Live a little.”

The blonde girl tugged Logan by his tie to the dance floor. The brunette in front of him giggled. “Well, he sure seems to know how to party,”

Patton just smiled, looking back at the girl that was with him. “What’s your name, doll?”

“Alice,” she answered with a dazzling smile, “And your friend’s dance partner for the night is Lola.”

Logan was moving stiffly with Lola, who was laughing at his attempts to dance. Her hands kept trying to wander, but Logan was firm with denying her advances. It was comical to watch the nervous detective attempt to blend in with people who were technically criminals.

“So, Alice, who‘s the host here?” he asked, putting on his most dazzling smile. A part of him felt bad for using his charms for information, but he needed to know why the Duke hadn’t shown up yet, and why he had been invited under a disguise.

“Oh, honey, the Duke only throws these parties. He never shows up unless he has important, hm, guests to impress,” she rolled her eyes, seemingly miffed by the fact.

“Sounds like he’s hard to reach,” Patton commented sympathetically.

“Very much so,” she twirled her drink, her red lip pouting before she changed the subject. “So, you a better dancer than your friend?”

“I’d like to think so,” Patton surmised. “Though I should probably be nearby if my friend faints.” He pointed to Logan on the dance floor. He was doing better, but his face was shining with sweat and pretty pale.

Alice set her drink down on a shelf. “He’ll be fine, just one dance?”

Patton briefly considered declining again, but if there was more information to get while in the lion’s den…

“Why not?” he agreed.

They made their way to the dance floor as the band changed to a softer tune. Patton recognized it as I Left My Sugar Standing in the Rain. He and Alice swayed before continuing to talk.

She leaned her cheek on Patton’s chest. He tried to remind himself he wasn’t leading her on, just being polite and getting information. She looked sweet, definitely younger than she seemed at first glance. He pitied her, wishing she didn’t have to find comfort in him or places like this.

He decided to table those feelings for later. “So, the Duke doesn’t greet his normal guests?”

She huffed, pulling her head up to look up at him. “Why so interested?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious, it seems a bit rude.”

“It is, but no matter,” her brown doe eyes looked up into his, “I’m here.”

Patton nodded nervously, “Yes, but you’re also a kid.”

She stopped dancing, stepping back from him. “How did you know?”

He panicked, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone here!”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but before she could respond, the band stopped playing for a gentleman who had an announcement. Patton made his way back to Logan, who no longer had an overly eager Lola hanging off of him. Logan gave him a seething look of betrayal, but turned to pay attention to the gentleman at the front of everyone.

He was a short, buff man with a long scar running down his cheek. He had a dark aura about him, and for a moment Patton thought it may be the head criminal they were looking for. However, the sinister man didn’t seem too eager to be on the small raised area that was a stage. He was frowning as the crowd quieted.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted. “Tonight we have some special guests with us that The Duke would like to introduce to you himself. So, without further ado, I present-The Duke of the Bay!” His voice was very unenthusiastic. Very few people clapped.

A man in a fancy zoot suit took the former’s place at the microphone. His suit was black, but his shirt was a weird shade of yellow and green, possibly chartreuse. His mustache curled upwards at the ends of his lips, which were grinning maniacally at the crowd. His eyes were wide, as he scanned the crowd for his special guests. He looked like a well disguised madman, at least that’s what Patton thought.

He and Logan looked at each other briefly, wondering what to do next. They both nodded, agreeing to still keep their assumed identities until they could get alone with him. It wasn’t a bust night.

“Hello, dolls and germs!” his nasally voice greeted. He gestured his arms dramatically as he spoke, “I have the distinct honor tonight to announce the presence of two very special men in our midst.”

The detectives shared a nervous look, realizing in certainty that it was a trap, as he continued on. “Everyone, give a good old Oakland sweet welcome to our guests, Mr. Ryder and Mr. Hyde!”

Logan’s mouth fell open as Patton froze, trying to figure out what to do. He took a moment to consider his rapidly diminishing options, and decided to pull Logan by the elbow as they made their way up to the most dangerous man in the city, pretending to be friends.

“There they are!” he gestured as they made their way up, “My dear friends.”

He hugged Patton first, and whispered in his ear, “I have guards, you bulls ain’t leaving the pen ‘til I say so, get it?” Patton nodded in nervousness, though he refused to show it, as the man made his way to say the same to the even more obviously nervous Logan.

The Duke stood between the two of them as they looked at the crowd, one arm over their shoulders. Patton forced a smile on his face, not wanting to cause suspicion. He saw Logan doing the same, though it seemed more difficult for him to accomplish.

“These gentlemen came here for a good time, and we’ll give ‘em one, right?” he called. The audience of people cheered, and he saw that Alice and Lola were staring at them with their mouths open.

“Alright, well we’re gonna be a dancin’ and a swingin’, make sure you give these cats some love that only we sinners can give!” He walked the nervous men off stage while the crowd cheered once more before getting back to the music.

“Well, I see no reason why you two gum-shoes can’t keep enjoying the party for now. Have some fun. Dance with some dames, drink some booze, and live a little,” he smiled menacingly, “It may be your last chance. I’ll have Mr. Doris retrieve you to bring you to my office when I’m ready for you.”

They looked at Mr. Doris; the man with the scarred face. He was glaring at them from across the room.

“Understand the situation, boys?” The Duke asked. He smiled at their stiff nods. “Excellent! I’m glad we came to an understanding.” He kissed them both on their cheeks before disappearing back upstairs.

Logan grabbed Patton by the collar and brought him to a corner that didn’t have very many people. “What the hell is going on?” he hissed through his grit teeth.

“It uh,” Patton cleared his throat, “It seems I was wrong. We were definitely set up.”

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist for this story!

#Intruality #romantic intruality #Patton Sanders #Remus Sanders #The Duke #Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides fanfic #multi chapter #Mob AU #The Duke of the Bay AU #The Duke of the Bay part 1 #Mama Cesa writes #gun mention #alcohol mention #homosexual slang #The Duke of the Bay

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supernovafeather · 3 years

Text

The Link (Part 2)

Duke Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Warnings : mention of sexism in the workplace (military field), fluff, angst.

Part 1 (necessary to understand)

Part 3

- - - -

Back on Arrakis, you struggle to find familiar landmarks, those you left behind you to enjoy this new confidence you earned from saving your Duke. Everything feels different. Same dunes. Same faces. Same buildings. But you've changed. You are not a Sergeant anymore, you have different missions, and you got the House Atreides favors. Not much, you tell yourself. A warm embrace from the Duke when you got off your ship, a few taps on your shoulder, a welcoming glint in his eyes, Paul, his son, who was there by his sides and talked with you for a while. You feel... important. You try to keep greed and arrogance at bay, but how can you when this makes people respect you even more ?

And what about this message you received a few weeks after your arrival as you are taking a hot bath, your waterproof pad almost slipping from your fingers ?

Dear Lieutenant,

I would be honored to have you as my guest at a dinner planned by the end of the week. Due to my schedule changing constantly I still don't have any more precise date nor time to communicate, but if you accept this offer be sure you will be the first one made aware of these information. Please tell me about any potential conflict with your own schedule. As this will be an official dinner with several other representatives, please come in your ceremonial military outfit.

Yours faithfully,

Duke Leto Atreides

There is no way you would refuse such an invite. It's not even a question of being able to do such a thing. Since the day you saw him alive after your rescue from this cave, after he told you while staring at you that yes he considers you as an equal... you've been working on yourself to see him as such. And as you feel out of touch with the Arrakis from a few months before, why would you refuse this opportunity to shine ? You lost your old landmarks, so create new ones is necessary.

In silence, you congratulate yourself on all the efforts you put in acting naturally yet with elegance in this military outfit. Not walking nor standing there like an arrogant peacock showing off the grace emanating from it. More like Leto Atreides does. Confidence booming, with a balance found between an appearing politeness and a gaze claiming respect out of the person laying their gaze on you. Thanks to these months away from home, you got used to those curious or even disapproving eyes from your elders. You didn't let their mind plaguing yours. Your Duke's wish when promoting you was for you to grow stronger, to grow this hardshell by yourself because he knew you could do it.

"Are you sure you are this same person who left Arrakis not so long ago ?" The Duke asks with a smile during this dinner, low enough not to be heard by anyone else around. "This is a metamorphosis."

"Please my Duke, you shared your thoughts with me about my future." You reply as you gather some vegetables with your fork and look up at him to hold his gaze. "I can tell you I am the same person. I just let you guide me."

"I already told you to call me by my first name," he says with a slight grin while a Colonel makes everyone laugh with a dubious joke about his own soldiers, "this is the minimum I can do after what you've done."

Tonight, your heart is filled with pride, this warm feeling accompanying each of your movement and fuelling this little smile and these piercing eyes. You are his equal.

"True, excuse me Leto." You correct yourself with a small nod as he shows his approval by straightening his stance a bit. "I did my best to get better. You trusted me more than I did, and you were right to do so. I can't thank you enough."

Then your attention gets stolen by your other neighbor, another Lieutenant. Not that you don't like him - you never met him before after all - but you can't picture him as someone deserving your attention. You don't know if your standards went too high with time or if you just learnt to detect hypocrisy. However, diplomacy is also an important part of your life, and you still take part to his conversation.

Everything goes well. Maybe those official meetings are not as boring as you feared. You cross Leto's path several times, mostly during strategy meetings or during trainings. And tonight, as you walk through random hallways, you notice his lonely silhouette in front of a large window. Lonely is the sensation pinching your heart. It is the only way of describing this vision of a man bathing in the sunlight, his night clothes on, hands resting on the metallic edge of this large transparent glass surface leading to a nocturnal sky. As his back is turned to you... the lack of usual confidence alerts you. Not that he would need it at this hour of the night and alone but... it is like a part of himself got lost somewhere.

You hesitate to go towards him. It is very late, you are still wearing your uniform, the day had been long. If your Duke wants some time alone you won't waste his. And also... you heard rumors. Amused jokes, and eager side glances every time someone mentioned you. Many in the army are starting to think that Leto wants you to get closer to Paul, his son. You find it ridiculous - because you have nothing to bring to his House. You don't come from a powerful family, your knowledge of the galaxy is reduced compared to anyone growing up among political intrigues, and you are certain prettier women would be chosen no matter what. But people like to talk and... words tricked your mind to get into their game. You appreciate Paul but getting married - being forced to, in a way - is something you are not willing.

As you are about to turn around, your boot rubs against the ground, making a soft sound loud enough to have the Duke looking above his shoulder with a frown.

"Oh, it's you." He acknowledges as he turns fully towards you, his distrustful face now more tired than anything else. "Come closer if you wish."

"Are you sure ? I don't want to disturb you, I know you had a tiring day."

"You won't." He replies with a warm smile and a scoff.

After noticing the small hand gesture he makes - arm resting by his side but a palm turning to you as an invite - you come closer with slow footsteps. Soon you stand by his side, avoiding his eyes as you look through the window. For a short moment you forget his presence as you kiss the surface of Arrakis with a loving gaze. The moonlight is embracing all the curves formed by the high dunes so far away. Some thin white clouds more similar to clear smoke leave their shadow over the sand, metal and stone, sometimes covering some patrols of soldiers looking tiny from where you are standing.

"I can tell you are happy to see this planet again," Leto whispers as you keep watching this breathtaking landscape, "and this is something warming my heart. I was afraid you would consider this place as not deserving your respect as much as before."

"Why would I think such a thing ?" You ask as you notice a small ship flying several miles above your heads towards the horizon, certainly one bringing some scouts, "Arrakis is a planet impossible to forget. Some may complain about its heat, its sand, its harshness, but this is still a marvellous planet. I wouldn't have enough of my life to understand it completely."

"I see love in your eyes."

The warmth and gentleness in his voice have you shivering and you smile before looking at him. His frown vanished, and his own lips quirk up in an approving grin. His brown pupils stay focused on yours, his curled forefinger under your chin to get a closer look at what interests him. You let him do what he wants to, appreciating this intimacy as you keep your hands clasped behind you, as usual. Your heart is beating harder, but you doubt Arrakis is the only cause.

"I love it, Leto." You say as his gaze never leaves yours. "I love this planet. This is why I dedicate my life to it. To its people as well. This planet changed my life."

"I guess you don't regret anything."

"I don't. And won't."

His finger leaves your chin, and he sighs, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes deepening at the dreamy smile he gives you.

"I see love in your eyes too." You whisper as the obvious strikes you.

There is no attempt to deny it from him, and no attempt to joke about it from you. It is a fact. You need direct approaches and Leto is the kind of man chosing the most direct answer.

"You do." He states simply. "I hope this doesn't make you feel uncomfortable, nor pressured in any way."

"Don't worry about it Leto. I don't understand why nor how you do, but I feel honored to get this kind of attention. You are the one I can consider as a guide. A benevolent guide. The one believing in me no matter what."

"You saved my life. And even if you hadn't done this, you would have been the one accompanying me to my death with as much dignity as you would have been able to provide in those circumstances." He says seriously. "Even feverish and barely conscious of what surrounded me I remember how thoughtful you were. How caring. How worried too. Yet you never gave up on trying to save me. I still remember the song you hummed the first time, spontaneously to make me fall asleep despite my fever. I can still feel this tender woman behind this mask you are wearing."

"I would have never given up on you Leto. You are the first man I see in this world... so... honest, animated by this passion and will to... protect. You don't share the same logic as most." You share as you try to describe your thoughts in the more precise way possible. "They like to see themselves as conquerors, ready to shed blood under the excuse of glory and honor. They want to see themselves as noble self-aware monsters, the kind we forgive because they fight by our sides. They expect our pardon because they think that because they are ready to die the people must give them something in return. Their loyalty, respect, obedience. You, you don't work this way."

"Neither do you, right ?" He questions as his right hand starts touching your collar, his want to touch you barely hidden as he acts like straightening the fabrics, eyes directed to your lips. "People of our kind are rare."

"At least we are not exactly unique." You whisper as for the first time in a few months, shyness starts to embrace your heart despite you getting closer to him. "And we know what loneliness feels like."

His hand leaves your collar for your nape as his attention gets completely swallowed by your gaze. There is something amazing in his features, a tenderness emphasized by the moonlight caressing his features. It's not often that you see him without this frown, and this charmed glint in his brown eyes makes them even more captivating. You wonder how he perceives yours. He evoked vague memories from this cave and you can only theorize on how much he remembers details from it. What was he thinking about the way you dealt with your mutual survival ?

"I can't wish loneliness to anyone." He confesses as you feel his breath at your ear. "It is what darkens one's heart, and makes it stop sooner than it should. Yours deserves to keep beating. Hard and healthy for the long years ahead of you. I am flattered to be at the head of the planet feeding this need of love in you."

"Please Leto, this love for Arrakis won't overshadow the one I feel for you." You say as he starts watching you in the eyes again as you rub his grey and loose shirt. "Close your eyes please."

For a second you enjoy the chance to have this man chosing to trust you. You rest your hand on his bearded cheek, admiring the delicacy of his features as he nuzzles your palm, the length of his eyelashes distracting you a bit. Then, with your other hand you caress his chin up to hip lips, having them opened just the slightest. You take a silent breath before daring to press this kiss, a grin appearing as you try to get familiar with the sensation of his beard stroking your skin. You know he will help you to learn to accommodate as he keeps you against him, a series of slow and passionate kisses starting to last for a long time, his hands holding your head to deepen your exchange.

- - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

@abelslittlebunny @ophelialoveshandsomemen @salome-c @santiagogarcia @anetteaneta @letoatreiides @huxdameron @amneris21 @lady-targaryen @lavenderluna10 @one-hell-of-a-disappointment

#leto atreides #leto atreides x reader #duke leto x reader #leto atreides x you #duke leto x you #duke leto

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