#and she was hoping to find the tomato lady but the tomato lady left but I had Two of the tomatoes so I was like ‘oh you can have one of mine

[anipgarden]

I went to my first plant swap and man. It was WILD.

Keep in mind I heard about the plant swap a little over 24 hours before it was happening. I have no plants to exchange, I barely even have seedlings yet. But I do have a bunch of seeds so I decide to roll up and see what I can do.

Its from 2 to 5. I show up at 2:12 and its mostly houseplants. But the local library branch has a tent and they’re letting people check out some gardening books they brought if they have a library card on them!

So I checked out “Seedswap: The gardener’s guide to saving and swapping seeds” by Josie Jeffery!

Woohoo!

(They also told me that if I want the library to set up seed libraries I should email showing interest because a lot of librarians have suggested it but public interest is needed 👀 special reminder to email/contact your local library about adding seed libraries if you haven’t got one already!)

I considered leaving but I decide to hang around and see if anyone else comes around with stuff that’s more my fancy (no disrespect to people who like houseplants but I have a 99% killrate with them and they’re just not my vibe) and

Y’all

I obtained a Boxcar tomato, a Blackberry Lily, a variegated pepper, a hibiscus cutting, loofah seeds, okra seeds, and FOUR (4!!!!) peach tree seedlings!!!

HELLO??????

I spent like 6 bucks total (1 on a peach tree seedling, 5 on the pepper) and the rest was just seed trades (or the peach tree lady just… giving me more peach trees for being nice. Be nice to the elderly you might get peach trees out of it.) I was there for like an hour and a half TOPS.

(I had to pot up the peach tree seedlings myself but this is still a W in my book lets see if they survive)

So uh

WOOHOO

#outdoor gardening #ani rambles #plant swap #anis garden 2024 #FOUR PEACH TREE SEEDLINGS HELLO????? HELLO #she was like ‘idk i was thinking id trade them or sell them for like a dollar’ so i got the littlest one in exchange for i think it was #gazanias???? or canterbury bells. or maybe both. #then i was like ‘oh its teeny tho’ so i paid a dollar for one and she was like HERES TWO INSTEAD and I’m like AAA #and she was hoping to find the tomato lady but the tomato lady left but I had Two of the tomatoes so I was like ‘oh you can have one of mine #because followers may know I currently have TWENTYTHREE TOMATOES IN MY BACKYARD RN #and shes like ‘oh youre so sweet heres a 4th peach seedling anyways im going home now im tired bye’ #the peach gods have smiled upon me and it was in the form of an old white lady in a gray sweater and a blue sunvisor

[lily-drake]

A "Malicious" Gift

When Rishe had told him with no hesitation that they were fighting, it was a bit of a shock.  He could never predict that girl.  However, he couldn’t help but admire the resolve in her eyes.  So, he agreed and left her alone.

When a knock resounded through his office, he knew it was her, but he didn’t look up from his work as Oliver opened the door and went through, closing it behind him.  Arnold looked up, staring at the door for only a moment before getting back to work.  For a moment he had thought that Rishe might come in, but no.  It was fine though, he had already resigned himself to the fact that she would come to resent him eventually.  After a few minutes Oliver came back into the room with a small basket and a far too amused grin on his face.  But Arnold ignored him and kept working.

“My Lord,” Oliver cheered, silent laughter coloring his tone, “it seems Lady Rishe has come bearing a rather malicious gift.”  Oliver carefully set the basket atop the desk before he stepped away, continuing to stare at him.  With a short sigh he looked up then glanced at the basket where a simple sandwich lay that contained a few pieces of meat, tomatoes, and lettuce.  “I am inclined to believe that the sandwich had not been tampered with despite the message, but I have not tested to be sure.”

The top bread piece was laid off to the side where he indeed noticed a small message written with some white sauce, “Your Highness, you idiot!”  Arnold stared at the message for a minute, unable to stop the grin forming on his face.

“Pfft.”  Arnold’s shoulders shook in silent mirth, eyes gleaming with intrigue.  A malicious gift indeed.

“I do hope that you won’t let Lady Rishe’s hard work go to waste, My Lord,” Oliver said with a large grin of his own, finding joy in the amusement of his master.  

“It seems a shame to ruin her art though,” he remarked casually, grin still plastered across his face.  Shaking his head, Arnold carefully laid the last piece of bread atop the sandwich, pressing the message against the lettuce as carefully as possible as to not smear it.  The only thought in his mind was simply how incredible his wife truly is.

#7th time loop #7th time loop: the villainess enjoys a carefree life married to her worst enemy! #light novel #rishe irmgard weitzner #arnold hein #Oliver Laurenz Friedheim #rishe x arnold #light spoilers #Volume 4 #They're “fighting” #Cute #Fluff #funny #This series is insane #and i love it #i love them #passive agression

[crowswithize]

Random DP Xover Interactions 4

Characters: Alfred Pennyworth and Ember McClain

Many types and shapes of living beings found themselves visitors of Wayne Manor. From Dick’s multiple escapades - one’s Master Bruce dutifully ignored - to Damian’s impromptu animal shelter. Even Tim had his fair share of colorful friends stop by. As much as Bruce asserted the Manor as a place of solitude and intimidation, the inside was far too friendly. Its inhabitants far friendlier.

So when Alfred walked into the kitchen and found a young lady with blue fire hair sitting at the island, he barely batted an eye. At least, this time, he knew who sat comfortably on the stool.

He started the kettle. “Miss McClain,” he greeted.

“Heya, Gramps,” Ember said, giving a two-finger salute. They share no blood bond and her words were certainly teasing, yet an underlining fondness coated her tongue.

“How are you? It’s been quite some time since you last visited Gotham.”

She made a noncommittal hum. “Same old, same old. Punching creeps and breaking hearts.”

“Just like Master Bruce in her younger days.”

Ember snorted. “I don’t think he’s stopped.” Alfred couldn’t, and wouldn’t, disagree. 

“May I ask what brought you here today?” He surveyed the fridge. Damian had notably started gardening and Alfred wouldn’t dare let good produce go to waste. He took out the misshapen tomatoes and bell peppers and set them aside. 

Ember clicked her tongue, pretending to think of it. Finally, she settled with, “Hypnotize the whole city with Ivy again. That gal is a riot.” She devilishly smiled with a row full of fangs. The fire of her hair whipped wildly, and Alfred feared the cabinets would become seared.

“An encore, I see,” Alfred commented. He turned on the coffee machine and began making Tim’s morning brew. He’s been slowly lowering the caffeination levels each day in the hope of weening the boy out of his addiction. “Though,” he added, “I couldn’t see any of your equipment being strung about for such a plan.” “I left them at Ivy’s.”

“Surely not. Miss Quinn and her share an apartment nowadays and their hyenas might destroy them. Not to mention Miss Quinn’s sporadic behavior when seeing a perfectly good drum kit.”

Ember let out a long, suffering groan. Alfred paid no mind and poured the hot water into a teapot along with some scoops of tea leaves.

Alfred was no stranger to Ember’s antics. He’s dealt with worse in Bruce’s younger years. Raising over six children have ample practice for patience and Alfred was nothing if not accommodating. If need be, he’d let Miss McClain think over her words for any portion of her infinite afterlife. 

“You’re wasted as a butler, Gramps,” she said, leaning a head against the counter. She stared directly at where Alfred was preparing tea.

“I respectfully disagree, Miss McClain.” 

He walked toward her and set a cup of Lady Grey in front of her. She immediately straightened herself out and took a small whiff. Alfred watched the gentle smile subconsciously brought upon her with great pleasure. 

He stood opposite of her, holding his own teacup in his hand. It’s a silent minute and only the brewing coffee pot sounded.

She hadn’t changed, not that Alfred expected her to, in appearance. Though she hadn’t visited the Manor since Bruce left, Alfred didn’t think she’d never return. Those were fond times when Bruce brought home a fire-haired lady and committed himself to solve her death. He would’ve thought him mad if not seeing her with his own eyes. She’d been so confused, unsure of the mortal realm, and utterly clueless about everything. Beautifully she grew into confidence and mischief. Alfred suppressed the chuckle of how Young Bruce and her would host shenanigans together. It was the first time he had reason to smile.

Then they grew apart, finding different definitions of justice. They both wanted to leave, both wanted to make a name. Bruce left for his training then Ember left back to her afterlife. Alfred tried to rekindle them but their differences were too apparent. What once gave strength to their relationship now warred against them. The only thing they had truly shared was indulging in the childhood so rudely taken from them.

Her teacup clinks against the saucer. “Just…” she struggled with what to say. She propped her elbow on the counter and pillowed her chin against her palm. Alfred does not scold her.

“I missed you guys,” she said quietly, her hair subduing with honesty.

Miss McClain had changed, he observed. Her fire did not crackle like desperate flames in December as it had. Decades ago, anger resided behind her eyes so acutely. Anger at the world, her death, and everyone who betrayed her. He does not see the anger he saw the burnings of regret, guilt, and, most of all, hope.

Alfred circled the island until he stood directly in front of her, her eyes trailing the entire time. 

“Dear girl, you’re always welcome here.” He laid a hand on her shoulder without fear of burning.

Ember laughed, hollow and empty. “I hypnotized the city with a plant lady last time I was here.”

“And master Bruce dresses up as a bat every night,” he countered. “Neither act will have you banned from this house.”

“I got really angry at him both times I left, Alfie,” she sniffled. Water hissed against her eyes as not a single drop survived.

“As well as each of his children yet he still loves them.”

“I’ve been gone for so long.”

Her hands shook, scrunching her pant’s fabric. Gently, he took them and held her hands within his. He stared directly into her eyes, fear akin to the one in Bruce’s eyes.

“And not once did we dare forget about you, Miss McClain.”

She launched herself at him, hugging Alfred with all her might. She sobbed tearlessly but her fire burned brighter than before. 

#interesting character interaction #i think Ember would be cool to hang out with young bruce #my writing #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #not the star trek one i promised #but i wrote way too much of it #i don't know why i keep making characters crying #its a habit

[justcreatingthings]

I finally fished that test short fic that I got the idea for after making this art. Let me know if these grammatical error or what I can improve on when writing the characters! Haven’t written in ages… Anyways,

✨ENJOY!✨

*drops this at y’all’s feet and skitters off*

Cuddles and Worries

In a well known manor, chatting and laughter can be heard from behind a set of giant white doors. Those doors lead into a room that might be considered “living-quarters” to some, but the being who resides in this room is not exactly part of the “living” realm… He just tends to rest here most times when he desires privacy from prying eyes! Specifically his fans that know nothing about personal space! Though, as of late, this room has occasionally also been shared with someone else…

“-and that tree had a wasp nest living in it even though no one has ever seen a wasp anywhere near that area! Oh, how horrific it was to witness her swell… ‘Twere as if her head became that of a…ginormous, maggot infested tomato! Turned out that the poor lady was terribly allergic!!”, ranted a hunchbacked Rabbid named T.S Woodrow. He is currently wearing a matching pajama set with a nightcap on his head.

“Oh mon Dieu, ça épouvantable! Did any of those horrid creatures decide to instead go after you?!”, exclaims Phantom, a rotund ghost rabbid laying underneath Woodrow, with concern written all over this face. Woodrow finds Phantom’s ghost half to be softer than a giant cloud so he chooses to lay upon it when they cuddle, just like how they are right now. Phantom is laying with his back on the bed, and Woodrow’s belly touching his own. They have taken this cuddle position so often that Phantom has even joked about how he’s now become Woodrow’s personal bed! Woodrow continues his tale of the day as he kicks one of his hind paws in the air as if he were a school girl talking on the phone with a close friend.

“They did not, for the wasps seemed dedicated to stinging every last inch of her! She was quickly taken into urgent care, but only once the wasps had worn themselves out. At that point, the bugs stayed down upon the ground and did not move even an inch more! The little bugs had worn themselves out in their rage… Luckily the lady lived in the end, but now she refuses to go near any trees on the off chance it might happen again. I, of course, do not blame her in the slightest.”

“I am very glad no harm came to you directly after you recited that poem, but I hope you do try to be safer in the future… I trust you will, but you know I worry about your safety when I cannot be at your side at all times outside this home…”

“We have spoken on this a multitude of times, and I promised to you that I would stay safe. I survived on my own with this curse in the past, and I shall continue to do so in the present and future. Just look around at the destruction surrounding us! Even now, as I’ve spoken to you a myriad of poems during this conversation, neither of us have been harmed nor injured!,” Woodrow exclaims as he directs Phantom to look upon the room and take in the disrepair it is in. There are shards of broken glass laying upon the ground from fallen vases and picture frames, and there seems to be water leaking out from underneath the bathroom door. Woodrow feels a hand touch his cheek and he lets it gently move his face to once again stare back at Phantom, whom only looks back with pure love and adoration.

“Mon poète bien-aimé… I promise I was not speaking of the beautiful chaos cause by your hypnotic poems… I am just worried some ruffian will try to harm you do to your affiliation with me. You have only been here for all but a week, and I know in the past you rarely left Palette Prime… I have a very long list of people whom always try to knock me down a peg or two every day, even if it’s at the cost of someone else’s safety’ …I just want you to put your safety first and foremost when you leave without me… Without you, my life would still be lost in a cycle of loneliness!”

Phantom smiles slightly and his thumb rubs against Woodrow’s cheek in a soothing manor. Woodrow leans into the soft touch and smiles back at him before replying.

“ You really are an Angel, Phantom… I promise I shall be safer when I go out alone. I shall be aware of my own surrounding at every turn. If I must do something to help you worry less, I would not be supposed to a costume of sorts..?”

“Oh, c'est une MERVEILLEUSE idée, mon amour! We can turn it anti a makeover of sorts tomorrow! I’ve always wanted to see you in a suit~ Of course, I’ll let you give me a makeover of sorts as well! Only fair that both of us get to pick out the other’s wardrobe rather than just one of us!” Phantom looks at Woodrow with excitement over the fashion possibilities and he can better understand Woodrow’s chosen sense of fashion.

Both of them share a little laugh, and then continue to cuddle and talk late into the night about different topics. Eventually Woodrow passes out and Phantom holds him close to him, being careful not to jostle him too much. Once settled, Phantom closes his eyes do the ghost equivocal to sleeping, closing his eyes and day dreaming about what tomorrow holds. Anything is possible so long as he has his lover right by his side, and the same vise versa.

#phandrow #rabbid phantom #rabbids phantom #phantom rabbid #phantom of the bwahpera #ts woodrow #rabbids woodrow #rabbid woodrow #fanfic #my fanfiction #<- new tag for me to use now I guess #ghostly curse #ghost curse

[syneilesis]

[fic] More of Barista!Yves fic

More of Barista!Yves fic

Ikemen Prince | Yves Kloss x Emma | G | 495 words

ao3 link (later)

Sequel to Barista!Yves and Customer!Emma vignette

A/N: The sixth of the seven fics for @cy-inky's one week challenge! Prompt is "Please don't cry." I did something a little different today and continued the little ficlet I had of Yves and Emma. There is finally a resolution! You go, Yves!

Divider by @/saradika.

His reaction was a disaster, and by the time Yves had reappeared Emma was gone. His heart leapt off his chest and did a freefall to splat into the floor. Jin was flirting with a customer, and Yves stomped over, whispering furiously to his brother:

“Where is she?!”

Jin took a few seconds before disengaging from the customer. He had a pitying smile on, and Yves dreaded the response.

“The pretty lady left,” he said, and he looked so concerned. “I saw tears streaming down her face ...”

“Gah!” Yves didn't wait for Jin to finish his reply before scrambling outside. He had to catch up to Emma as quickly as possible; he didn't want things to end up the way they were—him escaping from the confession and Emma thinking that she had no chance. What if she thought she'd be better off with that puppy of a blond? Yves had a better shade of blond than the guy! His hair shimmered gorgeously under any kind of light! He also had better sense of style—so take that!

Emma’s figure stood outside the coffee shop just a few meters away, hunched, head bowed, back on him, and Yves feared the worst. He dashed towards her, yelling, “Please don't cry!”

Emma started, straightened up, and whirled around.

“It's not that I'm reje—oh. You're not crying.”

Emma tilted her head, confused. “I'm not.”

“Then why ...” His gaze dropped slightly to find that one of her hands was holding her phone. “Oh ...”

Then he wanted to crumble into ashes—or fall in one of Clavis's pits.

“My father suddenly called,” Emma explained.

“I-I see ...”

Her expression lit up. “Ooh! Did you think that I was crying from rejection?”

“No!”

“Don't feel guilty about it, Yves.” Emma pocketed her phone and approached him. Up close, Yves spied some freckles across her ruddy cheeks.

Wanting to take a step back but resisting that urge, Yves remained in place, resolutely concentrated on Emma's (pretty) face.

One step. Then two. Emma's eyes shone, bright with intent.

“I'm determined to win you over.”

And this was it. He couldn't screw this up again. Now or never.

Yves took a deep breath.

“You don't have to win me over,” he said, carefully at first. He's going to melt right on the spot. “B-Because—I feel the same!”

Emma blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more.

Then she blushed. Like ink spreading on water, pearlescent pink blooming over her exposed skin. It didn't stop her from grinning open-mouthed, a sound of joy escaping from her.

“Oh, Yves, I like you so much!”

If Jin and Clavis and Nokto—and even Leon—could see him now, they'd hoot and whistle at his current state. He knew for sure that he looked like a tomato. He hoped that Jin wouldn—

“Ohoho!” Jin's voice cut through the moment. “I'm gonna call Clavis—”

“NO!”

Beside him Emma laughed, her hand intertwining with his.

#1WEEKCHL #ikemen prince #ikepri yves #ikepri emma #yves kloss x emma #yves x emma #ikepri fic #ikemen prince fic #fluff #? #fic #my fic

[kiasnocturnality]

⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒖

⊹ ° . tips: be sure to only begin your play-through from the main menu. Your choices have consequences and will unlock different scenes and endings.

“Thank you.” His faint smile returns and he approaches you as you hold your arms out to either side, “I promise to make this as unintrusive as possible.” He reassures you in a voice that makes his simplest words sound like poetry as he approaches and begins patting you down. He finds your car keys, a lip balm and nothing more. This seems to reassure him as his body language is far less stiff when he pulls away. “Very well, you can use the telephone. Though, I’m still your host and I would feel a terrible gentleman if you left you in this state. I’ll have the staff prepare a change of clothes and meal for you. Come along.” He beckons you with a wave of his hand as he goes out through another door and begins leading you through the manor’s hallways. 

“This is your home?”

“Yes, it’s been in the family for centuries.” He has the widest smile you’ve seen on him yet, it’s full of pride but also humour for a joke that seems to have gone over your head. 

“It’s very beautiful.” 

“Thank you, I do my utmost to maintain it, a task impossible without the manor’s staff.” He seems to praise them a lot and you wonder if he lives alone here with them; rich people aren’t exactly known to be so appreciative of their subordinates and so you enjoy the way this trend is broken by… 

“What’s your name? I’m Y/n.” 

“Alois Leblanc.” He replies in a thick french accent this time as he bows his head while falling into pace beside you. The two of you return to the dining room and you notice that the glass of blood is now gone. Does he know you saw it? Either way, he pulls out a chair for you and then pushes it in once you’re seated. He goes over to one side of the room where he rings a bell and the nearest door cracks open. You cannot see who is behind it but you catch whispers of a hushed conversation. 

“-Prepare… tonight… perhaps… clothes too.” From Alois. 

“-Hunter then?” A mature female voice replies.

“No, no… telefone… for it, yes?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Spoken much more clearly. Obviously, the rest of the conversation was kept from you on purpose. The woman, approaching her middle-ages, steps out, dressed in a simple black and white uniform with blouse and fitted trousers. 

“Come along, my Lady, you’re soaked through. We’ll have a change of clothes prepared for you immediately.” She says. You give a little nod and follow her, wanting out of your wet clothes. Alois is proving himself to be more trustworthy and you hope that you’re doing the same in his eyes. The maid has faded red hair that fades to darker roots that show she likely had it a bright red colour not too long ago and is now trying to grow it out. She leads you to a guest room and opens the wardrobe where she pulls out a few shirts and bottoms, trying to find clothing in your size, if the way her eyes flicker from you to the material is anything to go by. She presents you with a simple dark blue jumper and black bottoms. 

“And your shoes, please.”

“My shoes?”

“Yes, they’re making quite the mess around the manor.” 

“Oh… of course. Sorry.” You slip them off and watch as she picks them up and exchanges them for a pair of socks passed into your hands. You change into them and follow her back to the dining room where Alois is sitting at the head of the table. There’s a bowl of soup and bread prepared at the seat Alois had directed you to earlier. When you sit, he gestures to the food. 

“Forgive me but I’ve already eaten.” He says and you give a simple nod, swallowing thickly as you recall the glass of blood you found at his seat not that long ago. You glance down at the orange-red tomato soup and the little garnish set in the middle of it, sliced bread and butter on a little side dish nearby. 

⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ “This is very generous, thank you.”  ⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ “I actually ate shortly before the crash too…” You refuse to eat the food, it could be poisoned. 

#ᥫ᭡⋆ :₊ 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐 : 𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒚 (P2A) 🦇

[tunedtostatic]

Folktale-inspired story commission for Vermont floods for @cindereleanor, who suggested a lady knight and a dragon and someone who could grant a certain number of wishes. Thank you!

Content notes in the tags. If you'd like to commission a folktale-inspired story, here's my flood commissions post.

~

Once upon a time, there was a dragon with blue-hot breath and diamond-hard claws who lived at the place where the caves met the mountains and the cliffs met the sea. She would swoop from the depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the clouds, and at night, she would return to the dragonnests in the rockface high above the waters, and bow her head to let her golden tears drop into the basin at the heart of the nests that kept their magic alive.

This dragon was a creature of curiosity, and sometimes she would talk to the humans who lived in the towns that dotted the landscape. A few times, she flew all the way to a great city of humans to pass messages from the dragons to the most important humans in the city - wary, since there had been a time when humans hunted dragons, and the more important a human was the greater the risk that a small offense could bring those days back.

One day, she was flying inland just to pass the time when she saw a human at the mouth of a cave waving a piece of cloth to flag her down. The dragon alighted, and folded her great scarred wings to perch, respectfully, on her haunches.

"Hail, good human," she said politely.

"Hail, mighty dragon," said the human. "I have heard that sometimes dragons grant boons. I wished to ask if you would consider undertaking a dangerous quest for us."

The dragon had never undertaken a quest. "What kind of quest?"

"A rescue," said the human, and explained.

Once upon a time, there was a Lady Knight who lived in a town of humans in a cave so deep that no one alive had seen the depths of it. There was a subterranean ocean in these caves (the dragon, who loved the ocean, pricked up her ears at this), and it was so deep that even magic could not measure all the way to the bottom. There were also soaring caverns, where sunlight filtered through from the surface.

It was in these caverns that, long ago, a desperate group of humans had made their home. It was a dark and sometimes dangerous life, but it was safe from the dangers of the surface.

"What dangers of the surface?" the dragon asked, forgetting that humans had not only hunted dragons. Sometimes, humans hunted other humans.

She corrected her error of memory quickly, before the human could open her mouth to awkwardly explain it to her. The Lady Knight of the Carrots and Tomatoes, he explained, had been his friend since childhood. She had been born in the caverns, and trained alongside the other knights to protect their people. When other knights had been granted the titles of the Deepest Caverns and the Subterranean Ocean and the Sky Above, she had been granted the title of Carrots and Tomatoes because she quested forth to find better ways to grow the vegetables that the humans of the caverns depended on to survive. One year, she had brought back a new kind of tomato seed. The next year, she had returned with the irrigation research of ten different towns across the continent. The year after that, she had found a magic stone that enhanced the guttering magical sunlight that the vegetables depended on.

The stone had lasted for a few years, but the magical sunlight was continuing to dim. The Knight of the Carrots and Tomatoes had left on a final, desperate quest: to seek out the magician-bird at the edge of the world who people said sometimes granted wishes.

Months later, word had came back that she had found the place at the edge of the world where day became night and heard the call of the magician-bird, and then she had stepped into the seam between night and day and disappeared.

Ever since that day, her childhood friend had climbed to the mouth of the cavern every morning, hoping to see a dragon flying by.

"A dragon's wings can carry it to the place where day becomes night," he said. "And we both have much to fear from the humans-who-hunt-dragons." The unspoken question hung in the air: You would not deliver her to them?

The dragon, much affected by this story, wept one tear, and her insides turned to ice when it hit the ground in a wasted puddle of gold. She sniffed hard to stop crying, and she thought about the human's quest.

"Yes, I can fly to the place where day becomes night. And I will not tell the humans-who-hunt-dragons of my quest."

The human looked hopeful. The dragon tilted her head. "But I have never rescued anyone before. If she is injured, I can heal her with a tear. If she speaks to me, I can speak back. But what does it mean, to rescue?"

The human, who seemed the philosophical type, had to think about this for a few seconds. Then he told her his answer.

It seemed sensible enough, and after a clawed handshake, the dragon flew toward the place at the edge of the world where day turns into night.

She flew for three days and three nights. When she arrived at the edge of the world, she stepped up to the seam in the sky where day turns into night and said, "Hi, hello, hi there?"

The warble of the magician-bird pierced the air all around her, and the place where day turns into night rippled, and then opened.

She stepped through.

She had wondered whether it would be day or night on the other side of the edge of the world. It seemed to be neither. A strange fog filled the air, and birdcalls echoed from all around her.

"Who are you?" came a call from one side.

"Who are you?" came a chirp from the other.

"Who are you?" came a human voice from in front of her, and a human stepped forward out of the mist.

She wore simple clothing made from the same fabric as the human from the caverns, but tattered, with a mail shirt hanging unevenly over her ragged tunic. Her feet were bare, and the dragon could see that she had cuts on her feet from the stones on the ground.

"Hello, uh, hail, greetings," said the dragon. "Are you the Lady Knight of Tomatoes and Carrots?"

The human smiled. "I was."

"Ah. Neat! I see." The dragon thought about how to proceed. "What are you now?"

"We are the Magician-Bird Of The Edge Of The World," said the human, and the birds from above, and the birds from below.

"Well. That might be less than ideal, because I'm supposed to…"

The dragon thought for a second. She thought about what she would do if she needed to ask for something from the other dragons and thought that their answer would be "No." She thought about the human from the caverns, who had climbed each day to the mouth of the cave, and about what he had asked her to do.

"I'm supposed to ask her something. Can I talk to her for a minute?"

"You have made your request," the birds and the human sang. "This will be your only wish."

The Lady Knight blinked, and the dragon reached out one scarred wing to steady her. "Okay. Okay okay. Your friend, the nice bookish guy, that one, she asked me to "rescue" you, and I asked him what that was, and he said…"

She thought of the other human's words. Well, I guess I would have said that to "rescue" is to make it so that someone who was in danger is not in danger anymore. But she is a knight, and she chose that danger of her own free will. She did not come back to us, so my fear is that she is no longer free. I guess "to rescue" would be to make sure that she has a choice.

"He said he wants you to be able to choose what to do," explained the dragon. "So what do you want to do?"

The human reached one hand and gripped the dragon's scales. Then she said, "Grab me and fly to the place where the seam opens. Then I will speak. Then you fly. Ready?"

"Yes! Uh, ready."

The dragon flew to the place where the seam meets the sky, and hovered, flapping her great wings.

She could see that the Lady Knight's eyes were beginning to grow dim. But in the minute's final seconds, she turned and called, "I no longer ask my wish!"

The seam split. They tumbled through.

They flew for three days and three nights, until they arrived at the caverns and the dragon brought the Lady Knight back to her friend, and perhaps if the Lady Knight were not a Lady Knight, the story of the Lady Knight and the dragon would have ended there.

But though the Lady Knight and her friend spent the next year scrambling for other smaller magics to keep the crops growing, one day when the dragon was dozing near the edge of the nests she saw a familiar human walking toward the rockface.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Well, I am a knight," said the Lady Knight. "And you are my friend. So I've come to rescue you."

"How would you rescue me?" asked the dragon. "I am a dragon. I have blue-hot breath and diamond-hard claws. I can swoop from the depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the clouds. You are a human, confined to danger and darkness."

"Do you remember what you told me, when you came to rescue me?" the Lady Knight asked. "I do not have blue-hot breath and diamond-hard claws. I cannot always keep you out of danger. But I have a sword, and I know a town far away from here where we can sleep peacefully tonight, and I have come to offer you a choice."

The dragon looked at the nests, and she looked at the Lady Knight, who had tears on her cheeks. She thought about a town far away, and a subterranean ocean, and the Lady Knight's friend, and what it would be like to let her own tears fall without having her wings scarred for every tear that did not fall into the basin. "Yes," she said finally. "I think I would like to see that town."

The Lady Knight climbed onto her back, and drew her sword in warning. The last thing the dragon saw of the nests was the other dragons clustered around, watching them take flight.

They flew to the mouth of the cave, where the Lady Knight's friend, who was in her own way also a knight, was waiting with a list of tomato farms and a packet of seeds. Then they flew to the town where they could sleep peacefully that night, and then they flew onward, and they did not always live happily ever after, but they lived.

#flood charity commissions #thanks again! #editing this was funny because it was like. hope no one thinks the subterranean ocean is going to be plot-significant! #i just think they (subterranean oceans) are neat #content notes - #injury #abuse #possession

[klein-sodor-bahn]

Charlotte “Charlie” Borsig

My girlboss has been updated too!

A few trigger warnings: Death, shitty parents, add*ction, s*x

Charlie was born on the 13th of December 1956 in Berlin. Her father adored her to pieces but when he found out his wife was cheating on him with a another man he heavy-hearted divorced his wife. Charlie was devastated and hated her stepdad. But little Heinrich she couldn’t hate. She raised him because two years later the second divorce happened and her mother slipped into alcoholism. Charlie basically ran to household. With 16 her former stepdad offered her an internship at the Ministry of national security (better known as Stasi). She was pressured to accept it. With 18 she was deemed worthy to become a spy for the GDR (in German DDR).

One of her first missions was to Scotland and there she fell in love with the future father of her sons Mr. Campbell. On the side she gathered information on her target, but she became pregnant and received an ultimatum. Leave the kids one month after birth or risk being hunted for eternity by the KGB. Knowing what happens when the KGB is tasked with hunting someone she left Donald and Douglas with their father. When she returned home she visited her mother in hope to get some empathy. But that didn’t happen…her mother scolded her and a nasty fight broke out. Charlie then ran away to her father who immediately pulled her into a hug and comforted her. After that event she took on her father’s last name: Borsig.

The years went on and Charlie until reunification racked up 8 murders. She hated every last one of them in hindsight. The most tragic one was the death of secretary who was a lesbian pressured into an affair with her male boss, but when the wife found out she was fired immediately. In a rage that poor woman took some import documents (the company was developing weapons for the US Army) and planned to sell them to afford her cancer treatment. Charlie was sent to purchase those papers and to get some additional information started a sexual relationship with her. She know the CIA was on that ladies heels and so Charlie offered her sleep pills which she had prepped so they looked normal even tho they contained a deadly Dosis. After the fall of the GDR Charlie fell under the radar of the secret agencies. In 1995 she decides to travel to Scotland to look for her boys. Dragging along her now 30 year old half-brother Heinrich.

In a small village she bumps into Henry who offers her to stay for the night and later help with the search. And with every day this small Englishman grew on her. He was so sweet and nice. A true gentleman. Charlie who throughout the years thought she couldn’t love again slowly realizes there might be a second chance at life for her. A life away from the lies and people who could backstab her any second. A life away from the freak of a mother. A place no one knows (except Henry) what she did. And when she finally meets Donald and Douglas. Her precious boys. She bursts into tears. Donnie and Douggie accept her as their ma. And when Henry offers her to stay she jumps off the train and goes with him.

Charlie loves to flirt with Henry who turns red like a tomato. She loves him and the quiet life in Scotland. Although she has some violent tendencies pulling a gun or knife on people who mildly disrupt the peace. Beware if she starts speaking German you are fucked. She’s also a bit needy sometimes (especially if she wants cookies). She hates family gatherings with a burning passion. In Scotland she later works at the local pub. Her smoking started after she had to leave behind the twins but due to Henry’s influence it becomes less. Charlie is also a fashion chameleon. Although she mostly wears black. Her worst nightmare is that all this happiness is gone and a secret service finds her in the end. But for now she’s happy. She later marries Henry and together they adopt a little boy.

#ttte human au #ttte humanized #ttte oc #hashtag girlboss #Akagi’s OCs #Henry X Charlie💚🖤 #lore #lore dump #sorry for the tragic backstory

[claratompson]

Chapter 3

Emmanuelle turned so red she looked like a tomato. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she removed her hand from the young major’s tenacious grip.

In a slightly nervous voice, she answered: “Well, I have to go. Did you want to know something else, Sturmbannführer? You didn’t come just to find out how I was feeling.” The major smiled slyly: “Actually, I just came to find out about your well-being and wanted to invite you to a general dinner hosted by the German Commander-in-Chief, General Heinrich Martin.”

“You’re very kind, Dieter, but I can’t go. These are... Such events are for the high society of German society, especially since I’m French. I don’t belong there.” Dieter grabbed her by the shoulders and said: “Well, what are you saying? You must come with me and save me from the boredom of this evening. Don’t be afraid, no one will offend you, Emmanuel, you will be with me. Agree.” - it sounded more like an order than a request.

Emmanuelle had no other choice: "Okay, I'll go with you, Dieter." A boyish smile lit up his face: “Wonderful. I’ll pick you up on Friday at five in the evening. It was nice to see you, Emmanuel. See you later.” - he said, kissing her hand.

"See you." She answered timidly when he finally left.

“What should I do? I don’t even have anything to wear to this stupid evening. What could he possibly see in me? I’m absolutely ugly compared to most French ladies. If he decided to mock me like that, then he succeeded. But what scares me most is then.. does he know the truth about me?! Although if he knew, he would have killed him long ago. And when he finds out, he will definitely kill. I hope that if I go with him this evening, he will leave me alone. I missed to have a Sturmbannführer as a suitor."

>>>

But how wrong Emmanuelle was about him. Of course, he knew absolutely everything about her. More precisely, he found out after Standartenführer Hans Landa told him and ordered to eliminate her in the future. Oddly enough, the young major took this as just another task. And more seductive communication and attentions were just a pleasant bonus to somehow pass the time.

Emmanuelle nervously fingered the soft fabric of your dress, waiting for when the Sturmbannführer Hellstrom will come for her.

Finally, the time came to five in the evening, and the girl reluctantly left the apartment. She slowly walked down the stairs and just as slowly opened the front door.

The fresh, cold autumn air helped to invigorate and calm the trembling inside. Finally, a black car pulled up to her house. Having stopped, Dieter came out, dressed in his black uniform, but this time he was wearing a white shirt and that same black leather cloak.

He looked admiringly at Emmanuel. Putting his hand on his heart, Dieter approached her, saying: “Emmanuel... If you wanted to blow me away, then you did it brilliantly.”

Without hesitation, he walked up and kissed her on the cheek, then said: “It looks like I will be the luckiest man of the evening.”

Emmanuelle blushed and felt embarrassed. smiled at him. Opening the car door for her: “Please, Emmanuel, sit down.” The girl quickly got into the passenger seat chair, and Dieter sat next to her. The car moved smoothly. Emmanuelle looked out the car window, nervously fiddling with the skirt of her dress. The whole dinner party thing made her feel uneasy. Completely lost in her thoughts, she did not notice the young major’s gaze on her.

Feeling the touch of a warm hand on hers, Emmanuelle looked at Dieter, and he asked her, moving closer: “Is everything okay, Emmanuelle?”

Licking her lips nervously, she replied, "Just a little nervous before dinner. I've never been to an event like this before."

Squeezing her hand tighter, he replied: “You have nothing to worry about, Emmanuel. You are with me, which means you are in no danger.”

She smiled softly at him, suppressing the nervous lump in her throat. Finally they arrived at a huge building. The major got out of the car first and opened the door for Emmanuelle, handing over his brush.

The girl reluctantly handed him her arm, raising her brown eyes and looking into his eyes. Dieter smiled at her and led her along.

They entered the building. The walls were cream colored and the entrance was decorated with lanterns and plants. On the floor elegant red tiles laid. The waiters, carrying trays of appetizers and champagne, looked elegant and patronizing.

When they entered the hall, everyone undoubtedly paid attention to them, which made Emmanuel feel uneasy. The lips instantly became dry, and the heart beat even faster, the eyes ran feverishly across the floor just to so as not to look at other people. She didn’t notice how tightly she grabbed the major’s shoulder and squeezed him out of fear so hard that he almost hissed in pain. He touched her hand that was squeezing his shoulder and said in a soft voice: “Emmanuel, loosen your grip, dear.” She answered shyly, looking down, "Excuse me, Major." Stepping aside, Dieter touched her shoulder and replied: “There’s nothing to apologize for, Emmanuel.”

She looked at him lost glance, but it seemed to him beautiful: “You look simply magnificent.. And when you look at me so shyly, Emmanuel, I want...” “Ah! Sturmbannführer Dieter Hellstrom! Is that you?” someone said his name loudly. And that someone turned out to be the Minister of Propaganda Joseph Goebbels himself. Of average height, mature, even rather overripe, a man of about 45-50 years old, black hair, big eyes and a nasty, therefore gloomy appearance. He smoothly approached them, accompanied by some elegant lady.

Putting on a weak smile, Emmanuelle pressed herself close to the major, as if trying to hide behind him. She grabbed his hand tightly, looking at him shyly.

Dieter, in response, squeezed her small hand and whispered in her ear: “Don’t worry so much, mademoiselle. You have nothing to be afraid of as long as you are next to me.” And she believed him. His words sounded convincing and friendly. Sturmbannführer Hellstrom had not only charm, but also the ability to persuade.

As soon as Goebbels and his passion approached them, shivers ran down Emmanuel’s spine: “Sturmbannführer Helstrom! What a meeting! Glad to see you! And who is this wonderful Fräulein?” (“Wonderful”? Seriously? Does anyone else say that?) she thought sarcastically. Dieter: “Let me introduce, this is Emmanuelle Mimieux, the owner of the La Grammar cinema.” One of the most beautiful girls that I had to meet." (“Well, yes, of course. Although the Major is charming, I can recognize his lies in seconds. A pathetic semblance of politeness, and that’s all.”) Emmanuelle thought.

Goebbels scratched his surprised face: “Wow. The same Emmanuelle Mimieux! So this is who our dear private Frederick Zoller was chattering about all evening, then in the restaurant. But, unfortunately, you, Emmanuel, did not appear then.” ("As if that made a difference.").

The major took everything into his own hands: “Yes. Emmanuelle really couldn’t be present in the restaurant then. She almost got injured, fortunately I was nearby and was able to save her from this misfortune.”

At that moment she felt uneasy even from the major, so much pride and falsehood. (“It would have been better if I really fell then, just not to be here next to him and these people. That’s his real nature.”) There was an unpleasant pang in my heart. The girl let go of his hand, moving away from him slightly. Goebbels: "Very commendable, Helstrom. So.. Are you here as a couple?"

Dieter: “Not yet. I invited Emmanuelle to visit this wonderful place and accompany me with her beauty.” he said it as if Emmanuelle already belonged to him. Goebbels: "Have you danced yet?"

Dieter: "Not yet." Goebbels: "You definitely should do this before no other man does it for you, Helstrom. She is charming."

Dieter smiled slyly and, looking at the girl, said: “Emmanuel, will you agree to dance with me?” Of course, she wanted to answer no, but she had no other choice. Hiding her reluctance, she gently took his hand and the major led her to the center hall.

She flinched when he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close, and took her hand with the other.

The music began to play smoothly and all the couples who came out to dance began to move. Emmanuelle tried not to look at his eyes when he looked at her intently.

"I must admit he dances well." The major, with a slight movement, brought Emmanuelle towards him and away from him, spinning her around in a dance.

The girl almost forgot that besides them there was someone else in the hall.

His strong and warm hands pressed her to him, and his gray-blue eyes captivated her, not allowing her to look away.

#august diehl #dieter hellstrom/shoshanna dreyfus #inglorious basterds #dieter hellstrom #shoshanna dreyfus #melanie laurent #major Dieter Hellstrom #my art 2024 #rare pair

[badgerwrites]

Chapter 4

Previous Chapter: The guest's dreaded arrival was heralded not by cool boss music, as Rowan had distantly hoped, but by the grating sound of tires on gravel. Her room's charming little round window framed a small white car braving its way up the hill where the house was perched, gleaming like seafoam in under the jolly midday sun.

Like Orpheus preparing his descent in Hades' realm the girl steeled herself for the trial to come. She hopped down her bed and swung open the door of her room (she liked to think of it as her dramatic supervillain entrance if she were in a movie. It gave her a mild confidence boost, at least) before dragging herself down the stairs.

Her aunt was already at the door chatting with an elegant dark-skinned lady.

"-you've done a spectacular job with your sunflowers, Yasmin!"  "Oh, you flatterer you~" said  Rowan's aunt with a giggle, "I do my best! You and the little one both look positively radiant. Speaking of-"  Yasmin swirled around and beamed at her niece.

"Don't be shy Rowan, come say hi!"

Obligingly Rowan shuffled forward where her aunt introduced her to her friend (Simone) and the latter's hitherto obscured daughter Ava: a bright-eyed, bouncy creature with a bright smile even Rowan couldn't help but find a little charming. As soon as they locked eyes her grin widened, revealing a little dimple in her cheek.

"Hello! You must be Rowan, right? I've heard so much about you!" "Only good things, I hope." Rowan awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck, offering a tentative smile. "Duh! Yasmin told my mom you're like, super good at drawing and stuff. That's so cool!"

The young artist couldn't help but puff up a little at the compliment.  "I mean, I'd say I'm decent. Errr, I could show you, if you want..."

In the corner of her eye she saw aunt Yasmin swell with pride and give her a coy wink before clearing her throat.

"Simone, why don't we old fossils leave the youngsters alone? I made us tea, we can chat in the kitchen. Besides, I so wish to know what has been going on with you and Patrick lately!"

The distinguished lady chuckled and left with her friend. Yasmin pinched her niece's cheek one last time and asked her to show Ava around the house before walking away.

Dutifully she led Ava out in the garden, showing off the tomatoes and delicate buttercups dotting the yard. Then they headed into the basement, which was as new to Ava as it was to her guide, and unearthed a series of well-loved board games of decades past.

"We should totally meet and try these sometime!" Ava had chirped as she showed off  an mysterious old box with a faded dragon on it. It did sound like a good time, and under the sway of the new girl's enthusiasm her companion couldn't help but agree.

Finally they made their way into the upper floor and settled into Rowan's room. At Ava's request she grabbed her sketchbook and sat at her desk; motioning at the other girl to stay put. Rowan flipped quickly through the pages to find her latest and proudest work: a pastel landscape of the sea.

Before she could find it however a hand abruptly grabbed her arm and yanked her back to peek over her shoulder.

The suddenness of it all sent Rowan over the edge. She frantically twisted around, slamming her hand against the other girl's solar plexus to shove her away.

"Don't fucking touch me." She snarled, heart drumming in her ears. "Don't you ever-"

She stopped. 

Ava coughed, beating her fist over her heart a couple times. She straightened, shook her long mane of hair as if to clear her head; then cautiously looked over to her still panting aggressor. What she saw in her was impossible to tell, but ever the peacekeeper she tried to flash her a somewhat nervous smile as her eyes unconsciously darted to the door.

Hot, unbearable guilt rose in Rowan. She tried to apologize, to explain herself, but the knot in her throat sealed her windpiper shut. She hugger her arms to her chest and stared at the floor as she tried to pull herself together.

Ava cleared her throat. "Ahem, are you... okay?"

The small bundle of misery previously known as Rowan nodded. Awkwardly it bent up to pick up the sketchbook and offered it to her without ever meeting her eyes. For the rest of the visit Rowan limited herself to speaking in monosyllables, shame and awkwardness choking out anything else despite Ava's best efforts to return to their previous banter.

When the time to leave came they both walked silently to the door. Ava waved awkwardly from the car window as Simone drove away.

Rowan could feel Yasmin's worried gaze boring holes in her back.  She mumbled something about painting and sunsets, grabbed her backpack and hurried out the door before her aunt could ask what happened.

The young artist's long shadow stretched behind her on the grass as she made her way to the sea.

Next Chapter:

#fantasy #paranormal #mystery #ghost #lgbt #studio ghibli #writerblr #writeblr #creative writing #teenagers #young love #ptsd #found family #foster care #melancholy #whimsical #childhood trauma #abuse #when marnie was there #inspired by when marnie was there

[dumdaradumdaradum]

5. Kittens.

Unedited

Masterlist

Going out when the sun was still casting a haunting orange glow was not best idea Y/n figured but if she was to get back in time to make dinner and clean the storage room, she had to step out early.

Ram was roaming around the city with Akhtar to find someone; Y/n hoped he wouldn't find him.

He was her husband and she would stand by him forever but she couldn't just wish for somebody's death just for sake of being a supportive wife. Anyways wasn't a good wife supposed to want the right thing for husband, not just what he wanted?

A light and cantaloupe colored saree sat on the bed as she changed her payal to a lighter one.

"I hope the vegetables are not overpriced, I don't want to fight in the middle of the street, bhagwaan!"

She opted for smaller gold hoops.

Once ready, Y/n looked at her reflection, "Haye! Don't I look good in minimal jewelery?"

Quickly slipping into the sandals and picking the jingling keys, she rushed out.

"Y/n!"

Her eyes squeezed and her smile became strained. Not today. She was happy. She did not need to hear anything against her Ram today.

"Ha chachi?"

It was a miracle that chachi didn't detect the tension in her voice, Y/n mused.

"Going to the market ha?"

"Ji, aap bhi?"

Y/n was well aware of what she had done, now this lady won't leave her till they came back and she locked herself in the house again.

Luckily the market wasn't too far away, a couple of other neighbor ladies joined them.

"I always knew Malini's daughter-in-law was not fit for the family!"

"I heard she even called her rowdy brothers to talk!"

Y/n looked at the two ladies walking by sides, "what are you talking about?"

One of them snorted and looked away,  other however lit up. "You don't know? Malini's bahu called her rowdy brothers to threaten her in-laws. Poor family."

"I mean she's  old enough and 8th pass woman, shouldn't she know how to handle her husband's temper, they've been married for so long. Poor guy can't even look at people in eyes because of her."

A dull ache formed at the back of her head. She remembered how her brother used to scream at her bhabhi. Y/n was almost sure he even hit her.

She gulped back her feelings. Her bhabhi was the sweetest, she had always treated her like a kid.

Her pace quickened, she moved a little ahead them.

As she was arguing for the tomatoes, dark clouds spanned across the sky and the wind picked up.

Everyone in the market started securing the shades infront of their shops and the makeshift vendors started wrapping up.

"Looks like the first storm of the season is here!"

Y/n paid and left to get some lady-fingers.

Crowd was starting to disperse, the ladies from  her colony called for her. Nodding towards them, she gestured the vendor to make haste.

Her hair came out of the intricate braid and framed her face. Y/n grabbed the pleats of her saree and beelined for her home with everyone.

She thought of Ram. He better get home before the storm hits.

The mighty clouds rumbled above their heads. She kept her head down. Dust on the road gathered and swirled around the street.

"Y/n, come on!"

One of ladies grabbed her free hand, she was thankful- somewhat.

Reaching home in record time, she changed and took out gram flour and chopped up onions and potatoes.

Wiping her hands on a cloth, she walked towards the gate, wind and dust made her feet tingle as she walked.

"He better be home before it rains."

She gathered the jars with pickles in them and took them inside.

Y/n looked at the table, it was cluttered beyond words and she couldn't find the energy to arrange it.

Picking up the steel pot she went to the small handpump in the corner and filled it.

Chai and pakode were a match made in heaven. Speaking of, where was her match?

She lit the oil lamps, placed one in the kitchen and one in the adjacent living room.

Where is he?

Winds were getting stronger, trees near their house were swaying as if they'll break. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, she hoped he had took shelter somewhere.

Big drops hit her head, startling her. She really hoped he took shelter or stayed with Akhtar.

She took the brooms and put them in a corner of the shed.

She was about to wipe her face of the water when she heard knocking on the door.

"You're just in time," her words left her before she saw his face.

"Yeah well, Akhtar dropped me."

"And you let him go back in rain?"

He sat on the chair. Y/n took the towel and began drying his hair. "What is wrong with you? Akhtar-"

"Yaar he insisted, you know he's stubborn."

They heard a loud bang from a door nearby. "I guess I should have been more stubborn."

Y/n slowly rubbed his hunched shoulder, "he'll be fine. Go change. I'll make Chai and pakode."

He put his hands on her waist and rested against her for a moment then went inside.

"Y/n!"

His voiced sounded small behind the chatter of rain. "I'm going upstairs! You come up when you're done! Okay?"

Hearing a faint yes, Ram turned and stepped on the stairs.

The fritters made a sizzling  sounds she put them in the oil. The mix was almost done, she would just have to heat up Chai and she'd be done with the dinner.

For a huge man, it was unbelievable  how particular Ram was about food. "Y/n! The stairs are ..., be ...when you...!"

She cursed the rain, it was so loud due to the wind and the thunder.

"What?"

"Be careful when you come up, there's water on the steps!"

"Ha okay!"

Wiping the sweat, she put the last batch on the plate, removed the kadhai and put the Chai over the flame.

While it heated up, Y/n grabbed a bigger platter and two small glasses.

Carefully she focused on the grip as she climbed up. The stairs were small, steep and slippery. Letting out a sigh of relief when she was done, for a second Y/n looked around then she saw a faint glow of the candle from one of the rooms. He must be in the shaded balcony.

Cold winds dried her damp clothes, she craned her neck as she sat down next to him, on the swing. As the air traveled beneath the layers of her clothes and soothed her, she thought this must be how the heaven feels like.

Cool, soft and it must soothe the tension of your soul like this weather took away her stress.

Ram looked at her, trying to get more ventilation. He couldn't help but think of how skin glowed when she worked. She always looked so lost in what was doing.

For some time they just ate in silence. Y/n kicked her feet as the soft rushes of wind sent shivers through her back. A soft smile graced her lips.

Ram felt his chest constrict.

She was a work of art.

A crack of lightning snapped him out of his stupor. "Do you want water?"

Y/n looked at him and nodded slightly. She hoped he felt as light as she was feeling. It felt as if the strong currents will  whisk her away to a far far land, where there'd be no strife, just her with him.

Ram felt the heat hit him as he descended from  the stairs. His mind flashed with the crinkled saree bunched at her waist, the red bangles on her wrists.

Shaking his head, he put the empty glasses and plate down and filled a pitcher with water. On his way up he picked up two clean glasses.

Y/n gazed as he set them down and handed her one.

Did he not realize how pretty he was?

It wasn't fair how he could pull off any look and keep looking more handsome.

Just a few months ago, he sported a crazy look : he had a moustache that he kept very groomed at all time, and he didn't allow his beard to grow.

She swore he was trying to kill her. Did he not care that she had periods every month? That just one look would make her go crazy? After her marriage she had added another reason to why she hated periods.

There was this one time when she cried, she actually cried because he looked so so handsome but she couldn't tell him that, couldn't even look at him properly. She was stuck with stolen glances.

A quick snort captured his attention, "what are you thinking about?"

"Your angry lion look. A few months ago you looked like you'd rip into anything and everything that pissed you off."

"And now?"

"Now? You look like a kitten who just wants to snuggle and never leave comfort."

Ram's eyebrow arched, "a kitten?"

Y/n pressed her lips together  and hummed. She saw him look at her unimpressed and the next moment he was on top of her, his fingers stroking her stomach, waist and neck, eliciting laughter.

His breath pricked her neck, goosebumps erupted on her arms. He kept tickling her, "Haahha, Ram bas please-"

"I look like a kitten, huh?"

She laughter harder, shaking her head, giving in. "No! No, you're my personal king of the jungle."

Finally Ram sat back, folding his legs and faced her.

He would have agreed but the dim light from the candle exposed the mischievous sparkle in her eye.

"But you're also a kitten." She trailed off. His lip curled in a knowing expression, Y/n bit her tongue from laughing further.

"How?"

"Well, you look like you'd claw the hand off that dared to touch you but you also look for attention and affection. You're aloof like a kitten. You're cute like kitten, and so on and so forth."

His eyes crinkled around the edges, "Why does your brain think all of this?"

"It just does."

"Maaf Karo devi." A wave of affection hit Ram, stilling him.

Another sudden rush hit them. They both looked at the nearby Ashok, as it bent to the force of wind. The leaves created a lullaby.

Ram looked at her, she had stretched out her arms happily. He shifted a little and settled his head on her shoulder, close to her chest.

Y/n's eyes opened in shock. His hair brushed against her chin. His hand grasped her waist  and held her in a loose hug.

Her cheeks grew hot.

What was this man doing?

Her heart skipped a beat. She wrapped her right arm over him and massaged his head, another held onto his upper arm.

"Like I said, kitten," whispering in his hair, she pressed a small kiss there.

"Not a kitten."

Her frame stilled, his breath was stroking all the wrong places, well right but wrong. His scent dizzied her.

Unable to handle the sensory and emotional stimulation, Y/n leant and rested her back against the swing.

His shirt was folded to his elbows, like usual. Her fingers lightly traced the distance between his sleeve and palm. She felt him shift again, and somehow he managed to get even closer.

His breathing was slow and steady, was she the only one being affected by the proximity?

"Sometimes you force me to think."

Nuh-huh, he should not have spoke against her bare skin. No. Just no. She suppressed a tremble.

"How?"

Her hand continued to stroke him, gently alternating between his neck and his hair.

"I'm here snuggled up, next to you. Am I the kitten?"

Y/n grunt softly, "next to me? You're almost on me, first of all. And yes, you are the kitten."

"But you behave the same. Kabhi kabhi you give the most piercing looks when I try to hold you but the next moment you're all over me."

She shook with laughter and tugged on his arm. "Fine, let's both be kittens in this relation."

Ram felt her lean her head against his, he was sure she felt his fingers grip her harder the next second.

Y/n kept fondling his head. All of a sudden there was a huge flash of lightning making her cower into herself.

Ram's hand traveled higher and puller her tighter, his fingers stroked her stomach. "Do you want to go down?"

She wanted to take a long deep breath, but he was just shy from resting his head on her bosom. Unable to breath, her chest hollowed and constricted. "No. Ram, shift a bit."

"Mhm no, comfy."

As if to make a point he pecked just below her beauty bone. Her eyes widened comically, whatever little she was breathing got knocked out of her in millisecond. "Ram."

She felt him smile. "Ram this isn't funny." Y/n hated how weak she sounded. Not even able to speak in proper volume, her voice came out as a whisper.

"Never said it was, jaan."

If she could, she would bash his head against the pavement and then stab herself. "Ram." 

Whining. This man had reduced her whining now.

"Take some pity."

"You don't have to be so stiff, seriously you've gone to sleep holding me much tighter than this." He took his hand from her waist and held her arm. "Breathe with me."

Unmoving from his position, he rubbed her arm and guided her. In few minutes, he felt her back relax. His thumb rubbed slow circles on her, "There you go, better?"

Y/n was glad beyond words. She fiddled with the folded sleeve. He was a rarely affectionate person, the amount of times he initiated hugs like this or any actually could be counted on one hand.

"I like it. The damp soil in the wind," the swing went in a very slow motion as to keep them there, in that moment, as if it avoided pricking the bubble they were lost in.

Caged in each other's arms, they both thought about their day.

Ram's eyebrows bunched as he his brain went to that member of Gond tribe. Breathing out a cold sigh he clutched her tighter. Why did this happen to me? What did I do? Wasn't I just a kid?

The motions of her hand stopped as Y/n heard a slight whimper.

Her brain went in overdrive, was he in pain? Was something wrong?

Was it even a whimper?

Worst part was she couldn't even ask him, if he was truly just happy then she didn't want ask and ruin it.

Her eyes shut in pain as she felt his chest motions quicken. She started massaging his shoulder, running her fingers through his hair once in a while. Using her right hand, Y/n pulled on his hand bringing him closer.

After a while he seemed to calm down. She sighed in relief. Despite not wanting to ask him as he had just calmed down, she did. She couldn't let him internalize his issues.

"So will you tell me?" Y/n started quietly.

"I shouldn't have married you."

He felt an acute pinch on his arm. "You shouldn't be in my arms."

"You shouldn't be in my head." He nudged his nose against her collarbone. She really shouldn't behave like she could read his mind. It shocked him on occasions.

"Like you leave mine, mister."

"I can't or you'll never tell me what you think truly."

"Say it again, slowly this time."

Ram lifted his head and sat properly, still holding her. "You should stop."

"Stop what? Stop making you talk and let you kill yourself? Hard pass."

His knees bumped with hers, "you shouldn't be worried about all this."

"But I am."

Ram let her out of his hold and shifted to face the street. Y/n's hair blew to her side.

She turned to the side and cupped his cheek, "Ram I'm married to you. Your problems are mine as your joy is mine. You are mine, completely. The stress? that's mine too. Just like mine is yours."

He leaned in a bit and closed his eyes.

"Did you find him?"

She wondered if he ever thought of leaving this job, this place and taking refuge in his village, his home.

His silence and the lines of  his forehead were the answer. Unable to form words he pulled her in his lap and once again put his head in crook of her neck.

She gathered him in her arms rocked gently, "It's okay, it'll be fine. Sab thik ho jayega, mere chaand."

Ram contemplated the options of crying his heart out or kissing her. After a second of thought he decided to do neither, instead hid his face further in her hair.

"My heart feels like it'd burst out any second now."

He felt the lines she traced as her fingers ran through his hair. He suck in a deep breath as she placed another feather-light kiss on him.

After sometime the clouds scattered, winds carried them away. It was quiet late and he was still thinking about his mission, his wife who was resting in his lap was a distraction of another kind, altogether. Weather remained cold against his skin. Y/n had been fast asleep for a while now.

He felt her heart beat, the routine slowly forced him to close his eyes and let him slip into the familiar darkness.

@thewinchestergirl1208 new ending 🙂

#rrr #ram x wife!reader #ram x reader

[sea-owl]

So I never posted the edited ao3 version of this post for the true mates au on Tumblr. And since I am currently working on the next part for this au I should probably fix that. Here you go. 

"You were avoiding Mama and Papa today," Maina said. "Does it have something to do with a certain alpha?"

Penelope winced. Damn, she was hoping Marina hadn't noticed. "I was not avoiding them. I was merely avoiding their unsubtle hints about me and Pip courting."

"Oh, Penelope why don't you want to marry Phillip? We could really be sisters then," Marina said, holding her cousin tighter. The two omegas were cuddling in Marina's nest. Marina's heat was due soon and it always helped if another unmated omega was there before and after the heat.

Because Pip and I only see each other as pack mates, Penelope thought. Because I would rather write my novels and Pip wants to study his plants. Because it would be the most awkward marriage and mating ever.

Truthfully the only real advantage Phillip and Penelope would have being married to one another is that they would let each other continue their passions and be left alone by others. Penelope couldn't say that though. Her cousins didn't even know she was the novel writer Lady Whistledown, it wasn't something a proper omega did.

But her romantic cousin did believe in true mates.

Penelope leaned in closer to whisper to Marina. "I believe I have found my true mate."

"Penelope," Marina gasped. "Who is it? Have I met him?"

Penelope shook her head. "Do you remember my pen pal Eloise?"

"Ms. Bridgerton?" Marina asked.

Penelope nodded. "Yes, one of her brothers caught my scent from a letter I sent her. He sent me a letter with Eloise's and oh Marina. I just know he is my mate."

"Which brother?"

Penelope ran through a list of names in her head, trying to remember Elosie's actual brothers' names so she didn't choose one of them. How many did she say she had again? Three? Yes, that sounds about right, two older and one younger. The Bridgertons were so well known, even out here, for their being many in their pack and for all looking so alike that half the time most don't know which one is which from a distance. Surly no would notice if she added one more, and Eloise would help surely help her if she knew Penelope was doing it to avoid marriage.

A name, she needed to pick a name.

"Colin. His name is Colin Bridgerton."

Later that night Penelope wrote two letters. One to Eloise, and one to the mate she made up.

Dear Eloise,

My cousins are once again trying to push me and Phillip to court, no matter how many times we tell them we see each other no more than as pack mates. I may have fibbed and told them I have recently started a long-distanced courtship with one of your brothers. Colin is the first name that came to mind. If you could please help me I greatly appreciate it.

with great thanks ,

Penelope Featherington

The letter she wrote to the made-up brother was shorter, adding in a few details she remembers Eloise said about one of her actual brothers.

Dear Mr. Bridgerton,

Thank you kindly for your first letter. You will have to write to me while on your tour around the Mediterranean. I have heard you could find really good tomato plants there.

yours truly,

Penelope Featherington

On the back of her stationary, she added some musings she had once written on new love when Marina and George first started courting.

Two weeks later Penelope found herself having a picnic with Marina and the Cranes. George and Marina were sitting on a blanket a little ways away from Phillip and Penelope, still in sight but far enough to where they couldn't hear their conversation. Phillip and Penelope were sent to keep an eye on the engaged couple.

Phillip rolled his eyes. "More like scheme to have us start courting too," he muttered under his breath.

"Yes, your. . .father and my guardians do seem rather persistent," Penelope agreed. "Which is a wonder since you'll be starting Cambridge soon Pip."

Phillip glared into the distance; the same one he used when thinking about Sir Crane. "Anything to make me proper alpha. I guess we should be grateful that your pack alpha has not given in to the arrangement Penny."

Which was odd, since it was her pack alpha, her father, Lord Featherington, that sent her live in Gloucestershire with her cousins in the first place. One would think he would make arrangements to keep her out here since to her knowledge neither of her parents knew what to do with an omega. Everyone else in her family was betas, from her parents to her three sisters.

"I still can't believe you made up a fake mate," Phillip whispered.

Penelope looked down at her letters. She had received two from Eloise. One smelled of Eloise's warm scent of honeysuckle, the smell becoming more potent as she opened the envelope.

"If I had not Sir. Crane," Penelope spat the name, " and my guardians would certainly have us engaged to be married."

It was almost too easy for Penelope to spin the tale to her guardians of a long-distance suitor who she believed to be her true mate, and that her mama was help coordinating back in London. Neither really wrote to Lady Featherington, Mr. Thompson exclusively only wrote to Lord Featherington.

Penelope pulled out the letter.

Dear Penelope,

Yes, I shall help you at once! We still have accomplishments we must achieve and how are we to do that when they try to marry you off when you are not even out in society yet!

Though really Penelope, Colin? Of all your choices, you chose Colin? I suppose it is better than Gregory.

you friend,

Eloise

Penelope smiled. "Oh, this is wonderful Pip, now you can continue your studies at Cambridge and . . .Pip?"

Phillip sat next to Penelope in a daze, his body shaking, and his unfocused eyes staring at the letter in her hands. "Lonicera," he muttered, breathing in deeply.

"Phillip!" Penelope yelled.

Whatever scattered her friend's mind stopped it's control. Phillip blinked a few times before coming back to himself. "I'm sorry Penny. I'm not sure what happened."

"You're not about to go into a rut are you?" Penelope asked, leaning away.

Phillip shook his head. "No, I'm not due for a while."

Penelope stared at her friend for a few moments before turning back to her other letter. This one didn't contain Eloise's scent; she must have sprayed some sort of perfume on it. The perfume gave off a scent of an ocean breeze with hints of citrus. It was the most wonderful scent Penelope has ever smelled. She must remember to ask Eloise what perfumed she sprayed it with.

Dear Penelope Featherington,

I thank you for your well wishes and will make sure to write to you on my travels. You say there are good tomato plants in Greece? I shall be eagerly awaiting to see if that is true.

yours,

Colin Bridgerton

Over the next few years Penelope kept sending letters to her Mr. Bridgerton. She must really commend Eloise for her dedication to keep up the charade, even if she still hasn't told Penelope what perfume she sprays the letters with. If Penelope was not the one to make up Mr. Colin Bridgerton she would have sworn he was real. Eloise put so many details in of a young man traveling to different parts of the world that Penelope wonders where she learned them. She even pretended to send gifts from those travels. Penelope busted out laughing when the first one of tomato plant seeds came in with a note.

You were right Pen, there are good tomato plants here.

yours,

Colin

Penelope wished things went as smoothly with the rest of her life. When she was 17, George had went to battle and died, leaving behind an unmarried and unbitten pregnant mate. Phillip was dragged home by his father who had died two weeks after George. Now the lord of Romney Hall Phillip tried to honor his brother and look after Marina and her unborn child. They had married when Marina was three months along, but never mated. No one dared spoke about how Sir Crane and Lady Crane had no mating marks.

Marina was never the same. During the last months of her pregnancy, she had become snappy with Phillip, and demanded that Penelope not leave her side.

"Penelope will move in with us!" Marina ordered. "She will be my companion and my child's governess!"

Phillip and Penelope had hoped that once Marina gave birth she would calm, but no such luck. After the twins were born Marina had become despondent. She never left her rooms and allowed very few to enter.

"Penny how is she today?" Phillip asked one morning, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think she would like to see the children?"

"She barely has spoken, nor eaten," Penelope relied. "She only stares ahead of her. I fear brining in the children would send her into another fit."

For two years they lived like that before the sickness took hold of Marina and she allowed it to take her.

Phillip and Penelope were reading over condolence letters when she got the rare letter from her mother.

Penelope,

I am sorry to tell you this but your father has passed. Come next season when we go into half mourning, I will need you in London. It is time for you to be serious about your suitor.

Penelope stopped reading. Her father was dead. She supposes as her official pack leader and sire she should mourn his loss. She's sure her sisters in London are.

Penelope read over the letter once more. Still she felt like she was reading about the death of an unnamed character in one of her novels.

Penelope puts down her mother's letter and picks up the one from her fake suitor.

My darling Pen,

I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are going through right now. It is never easy to lose one member of your pack, much less two. I hear you are to come to London next season. I shall be waiting for you here. Mayhaps we shall finally see if we suit for marriage.

patiently waiting,

Colin

"My mother expects me to return to London next season. I am to join the marriage mart," Penelope said.

Phillip nodded. "I will accompany you. We will both be in half mourning and be able to begin courting others."

Penelope looked up, her confusion leaking into her scent. "You will come to London with me?"

Phillip smiled. Penelope could smell his smugness at shocking her in his pine scent. "I figured we would both like someone we would know there when taking on the marriage mart. I need to find the children a new mother."

"You should find yourself a mate," Penelope muttered under her breath.

Penelope was 20 when she stepped back into London for the first time since her parents decided they could not raise an omega. Her dress was lavender and her gloves black.

Phillip stepped out of the carriage beside her with his black gloves and coat.

They are greeted in the Featherington drawing room by Penelope's mother and three sisters, along with two unknown alphas and an unknown omega.

That familiar smell of ocean and citrus hits Penelope so hard she's thankful Phillip has given her his arm to escort her in. She's not sure she would be standing if he didn't.

"Penelope, Sir Crane" Portia said. "This is Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, Lady Violet Bridgerton, and Mr. Colin Bridgerton."

Phillip shot Penelope a look. I thought you made him up.

Penelope shot Phillip a look back. So did I.

#bridgerton #true mates au #besties phillip and penelope #mentioned couples #polin #philoise

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Episode 10 Review

- The start of this episode is very cute. Watching Suletta get all these victories and becoming more comfortable talking to others (she didn’t stutter at all early on). Chuchu especially was pretty adorable with her happy jump and laughing hard enough she coughed.

- Miorine’s scene with Delling was pretty cute. He finally complimented her and she seemed pretty happy. Also liked her scene with the pilot lady. Hope she becomes pretty important cause she’s really cool.

- Guel is apparently missing, which makes me think he ran away instead of taking his dad’s offer. Also cute we got to see Petra, but where’s Felsi?! I will not accept a substitute like Renee!

- Secilia and Rouji finally got character development. They left the couch! Also their relationship is pretty cute.

- Belmeria is the only good adult in this show. She tried her best to give El4n a good life and cares for Suletta. However sadly she didn’t get to acquire into what was happening in the cockpit. Kinda thinking she’ll die which would eliminate the one reasonable adult.

- Now for the heavy shit. Shaddiq is becoming even more of an asshole by plotting to kill his crush’s dad. He’ll do whatever it takes to climb the ladder even if it’s a horrible act. It seems Sarius just wants his son to live a school life and do things fair and square but Shaddiq is very cutthroat. And his scene with Nika was very chilling. Girl feels indebted to the man that raised her so she’s willing to work with Shaddiq to help him, but darling, you need to see that Shaddiq is gonna throw you away as soon as you’re useless. Also poor Nika thought the key chains were for her, but when she found out differently, she realized just how separate she is from everyone.

- Dawn of Fold seems to be an Earth resistance group that salvages old suits in order to use for their mercenary deeds. Basically they’re the IBO group. The two suits the girls are piloting are Lfriths which means that at least some of the technology survived and was transferred into the hands of rebels. However are the girls genetically engineered to handle it? Or are these suits like Aerial and don’t need linking? We also now know why Nika was so enthralled by Aerial. She’s worked with Gundams before so she must’ve been pretty happy seeing another one

- The Elan’s are officially the worst boys but I can’t help but love them. El5n is a real piece of work, not even bothering to act like his predecessor, which Elan Prime at least attempted too. He’s probably just like Shaddiq, wanting to climb no matter what he has to do. Also he’s a slut. But Elan Prime should probably wipe that smug look off his face. If El5n is like Shaddiq, then that means he might try to fully replace him. Clone Wars time

- This episode we got introduced to a new character, Bob! I’ve only had for a few minutes but I already love him, I wonder why?

- All joking aside, it’s so nice to see Guel find worth and support in a job separate from his identity as a Jeturk son. He started as an arrogant man getting angry at any slight against him to a hard working employee finally living a life he feels comfortable in. His smile near the end was the happiest we’ve ever seen him and I love it. His boss has been a better father figure to him in the two months he’s been working than Vim has his entire life. But as always, the universe can’t help but conspire to fuck Guel over at every opportunity it gets so not only is he on a ship heading to a soon-to-be assassination spot, but it got hijacked by Gundams. Poor guy can never catch a break. However I expect him to somehow get a suit and either kick those girls asses or come in to save Suletta and Miorine. And if he dies… I’m dropping the anime.

- But the real problem this episode was Suletta and Miorine’s relationship tripping on a rock and tumbling down a hill. The tomato’s in the greenhouse aren’t ripe enough yet, but will they get their chance or will they be plucked too quickly?

- Miorine is very similar to her father as much as he hates him. I’m guessing the reason he’s such a shitty father is because he focused on work rather than his family, and Miorine is showing the same tendencies. She doesn’t realize just how important tending to the greenhouse was to Suletta and she didn’t even have a discussion about it.

- Meanwhile Suletta is too scared to actually confront Miorine which leads to her getting heart broken. Though it also doesn’t help that she was almost assaulted right before by someone she thought was a close friend (Still waiting for the bomb to drop on that one). She’s becoming more liked by her peers but the two people she’s become closest two feel like strangers now (and in Elan’s case that’s literal). I expect this misunderstanding to either be fixed in the cour 1 finale, or we’re going to go into cour 2 with some serious shit to work out. And with Prospera maybe assassinating Delling, the relationship could be split entirely. (Is now a bad time to say I ship GuelSule?)

- We have two weeks until the next episode but my brain worms will keep me fully functioning. Next episode is gonna be a real kerfuffle. Suletta and Miorine are both gonna. E part of the thunderdome and Mio’s probabaly gonna witness her father getting killed, maybe even directly by Prospera. Then Prospera will go into some big Char speech and break the news about what the fuck is up with Aerial and Suletta. I also expect Guel’s going to get caught in the crossfire and have to choose between running (gaining one, himself) or fighting back (gaining two, Suletta and Miorine.) Shaddiq will probably stroll right in to claim ownership, with his harem and a scared Nika in tow, and Chuchu’s gonna be crushed. Then we’re going to have to deal with a possible disbandment of the school and if so, here are my predictions for all the characters

Miorine, Suletta, Guel, all the Earth House kids (minus Nika), El5n, and possibly Belmeria will be on the run and will eventually use the school as their base ala 3 Houses Style

Shaddiq, his harem, and Nika will fully take over Grassley and work on fully disbanding the Benerit Group. Dawn of Fold will join as a mercenary group but will wait her betray or be betrayed in the future

Lauda, Petra, and Felsi will work with the Jeturk House, Lauda becoming a replacement for Guel and attacking our group of heroes to “save” his brother. Petra and Felsi will be his unnerved allies who eventually join GUND-ARM because they can’t stomach the horrible shit they have to do and want to be with Guel-senpai

Secilia and Rouji will be staying at the school and managing it as the group Secilia belongs to owns it and Rouji just wants to work on his little robots. The two will eventually become management for GUND-ARM.

Prospera will be elected as the new leader of the Benerit group with Vim as her dog. Peil and El0n will just be watching everything go down and planning to jump ship if things go south. Sarius will be very opposed to Prospera and may also get killed.

- Overall, this episode gave me a lot to think about and a lot of memes. Please, Bob, live!

#so many shocking things this episode and bob is the only thing I can think about #also Secilia and Rouji finally learned how to walk probably to get away from Lauda’s bullshit #gundam witch from mercury #gundam #g witch

[justakon]

Sometime during the mid-morning, Isane made her way to the Twelfth on the pretext of submitting the forms for the extraction of dangerous compounds from a few of her flowering and fruiting plants. As she did so, she casually enquired of the main SRDI office if their lieutenant was busy. Upon being told that he was occupied at the moment and asked if it was something urgent, she shook her head. It would be unconscionable to interrupt him at work, particularly if he was working on something with a rapid rate of decay or needed close monitoring.

Instead, she left a three-tiered food thermos jar and a transparent tub with the laboratory technician she had spoken to, asking for it to be delivered to their lieutenant. A handful of irregularly-shaped savoury mashed banana fritters in the see-through container will not win any awards for their appearance but were included because she recalled a conversation where he expressed an interest in trying them. The contents of the insulated vacuum, however, were more mainstream in the form of congee with shredded chicken, matchstick-sliced ginger, broccoli florets and carrot slices on the first layer; takikomi gohan with diced parsley, chicken, celery, carrots, shiitake mushrooms and abura-age on the second; and finely blended red bean soup with sago and reconstituted slivers of dried tangerine peel on the third. Mindful that these dishes would likely be tested for poisons and other substances, care was taken to include a sealed note with the thermos.

This missive simply reads: Dearest Truffle, Forgive this intrusion into your work. As it is chilly today and you have been hard at work lately and probably functioning on little sleep, something hot for lunch, dinner and tea breaks might do you some good. Please excuse the porridge for being on the watery side. Sago has been added to dessert to bulk it up a little. I hope you won't find it too thin or the main dish too plain. It should keep warm if you want it for tea. The fritters can be kept till supper or breakfast the next day. You might have to reheat the rice for dinner in case you want it hot. Apologies for putting you through the trouble and for the uninteresting meals. Thank you for the pink moonflower by the way. It has been planted opposite the white one at the engawa. Please remember to wrap up when you step outdoors to smoke and rest when you feel tired. Your Tomato.

Waiting until the officer shuffled away out of sight, presumably either to the control centre, the command centre or the laboratory Akon had secreted himself on, she returned to the Fourth for some sleep before the night shift.

The days seemed to be melding into one another and he hadn't really recognised that he had been stuck in the labs and away from his quarters. he did pop in every other day to restock food and water for da vinci since he could not be a neglectful father to his already hiding from his cat. there were just too many deadlines to meet and they all required his supervision and direction and guidance or the usual chastising.

it happened that way sometimes. too many projects happening all at the same time and needing all hands on deck. which meant relying on stimulants and forgoing sleep altogether. sometimes even sustenance too. since this was the 12th and they could manage to bypass those things regular shinigami couldn't. there were always ways around it. but nothing was without any consequence of course.

and ever since he started to become closer to isane, he could almost feel her disapproving gaze on him for being the way he was. but he also knew she would be understanding despite her concern. he knew what he was doing. and this was hardly his first time doing this sort of thing.

funny how as his thoughts were on that certain grey-haired lady that the lab technician happened to bring him something and when he asked who had sent it -- even if he knew before he was told -- he was coloured surprised for sure. there was no outward smile. he maintained his usual indifferent expression but inside dare, he say he felt somewhat giddy? it was most odd, for sure. to be remembered and have food that she made herself sent to him. it was quite thoughtful and something he'd never experienced anyone doing for him. like ever.

for a brief moment, his eyes scrolled over the missive she had written in that no-nonsense handwriting of hers. there was no intrusion. leave it to her to think it was so. sure, maybe he got a few odd stares once he'd received the thermos but no one dared say or ask him anything about it. and he did appreciate the instructions. she was always good at that. but he really should get back to work. even if a part of him wanted to explore what she made. he would have to get back to it during a break.

[text] got your delivery. you didn't have to go through all that trouble for me. but thank you. i shall see you soon. possibly a few more days. take care of yourself, isane.

after he sent the message he tucked his phone back in his labcoat and back to work it was.

#answered #reservedcloud #//thank you for sending this uvu #apologise it took a while to get to it orz #very thoughtful of miss tomato

[thefoldedbird]

how about some small introductions for your wow ocs? 👀

Hell yeah! I would love to ❤️ I apologize in advance as I have a lot of these dudes.

Orla

She’s a human mage that went from no magic to being patroned by a very old deity to revive Vol’jin. She cannot return home unless she is successful. Apparently far from the first person her deity has done this to but the others are implied to have kinda…died. Is just trying to roll with the punches but the pressure is getting to her.

T’sangra

A grumpy old green troll and the captain of a horde trade ship. Once upon a time he was quite the ladies man. Took a sword to the face about a decade ago and the wound never quite healed right.

Eril

She’s 58 years old but hasn’t smiled in 50 thanks to a bargain on behalf of her parents to a demon. She currently studies fae magic and enchantments. Is not actually magic herself. Her neighbor is simply an nuisance. Her two adopted sons are her pride and joy and she has and will again murder to keep them safe.

Gohn

Eril’s first son. A troll that ran away from home as a child. She raised him on her small farm on the Eastern Kingdoms but he’s since gone back to Kalimdor with the intention of reconnection with his tribe and proving himself to them as a hunter. He’s a mama’s boy with a very soft spot for cows. Could easily be described as a mom friend.

Sad’iekke

Eril’s second adopted son. A zandalari boy and a priest of Rezan. He’s young, naive, curious, anxious, and has a considerable amount of family trauma to work through but he’s sweet as honey and ultimately just wants to be a really good healer. Too nice for his own good sometimes.

Basha

My Gurubashi troll. He’s an older dude and kind of an ass. He’s got a big voice, has a hot temper, yells a lot, and will start a fight just for fun. His wife poisoned him right before he left for Zandalar. He gets jumped by goblins and left for dead in a ditch. His pride takes the brunt of the damage.

Roma

Was a knight but sustained an injury in her leg and didn’t treat it properly. Now she can’t put weight on it and now uses magic to float around and travels in hopes that she can find a way to fix it. Can’t bear to cut it off. Is fatigued 110% of the time. Is named after the tomato, yes.

Nao

A dragon! Part of the emerald dragonflight. Their dragon form is very Aztec in design. They’re a partier with a deep love for drums and dancing.

Rasmundy

Is a wizard in a similar situation as Orla. Except he’s also a cowboy whose magic staff is just a gun that fires whatever he tells it to. Still looks, sounds, and requires reloading like a normal gun. He’s a real jovial dude who’s just trying to vibe. Mostly a joke character.

Jeanne & Mintawix

A Gnome and a Goblin respectively who are both very in love but very bad with their emotions so they just send each other hateful poems in the mail with bombs attached and call the other their Pen(emy) pal to cope.

#world of warcraft #my ocs #oc introduction #ask #krch-1982 #long post #answer #wow #warcraft #two spirits au #thank you so much #for asking about my ocs #🥺❤️ #I will never not love gushing about them #Sad’iekke especially #holy shit #this kid is going through developments 👏👏👏 #FF WOW

[kiasnocturnality]

⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒖

⊹ ° . tips: be sure to only begin your play-through from the main menu. Your choices have consequences and will unlock different scenes and endings.

The man in front of you visibly bristles when you refuse to allow him to search you. Why would you? His jaw clenches for a moment before he bites the inside of his cheek in thought. He seems even more suspicious of you than before now. You have nothing to hide but you don’t know what he’s hiding either and you’re not about to gamble your life on him being a harmless but cautious man after everything that’s happened already. 

“Very well, you can use the telephone. Though, I’m still your host and I would feel a terrible gentleman if you left you in this state. I’ll have the staff prepare a change of clothes and meal for you. Come along.” His tone is prickly, almost haughty. He clearly is not fond of you but nor are you of him. He beckons you with a wave of his hand as he goes out through another door and begins leading you through the manor’s hallways. 

You walk in silence until he brings you to the dining room. He turns back to face you and looks you up and down, examining how your clothes occasionally drip and are so soaked they’re clinging to you like a second skin. 

“Can I offer you a change of clothes?” He offers. You don’t trust him but you’re also freezing and drenched and a change of clothes couldn’t hurt. It seems like an unusual pretence if he wants to attack you: surely he would do it right now if he attends to finish you with brute force?

“That would be very nice, thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement of your decision. The mysterious man then goes over to one side of the room where he rings a bell and the nearest door cracks open. You cannot see who is behind it but you catch whispers of a hushed conversation. 

“-Prepare… tonight… perhaps… clothes too.” From Alois. 

“-Hunter then?” A mature female voice replies.

“-Sure as of yet… telefone… mess… up, ok?” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Spoken much more clearly. Obviously, the rest of the conversation was kept from you on purpose. The woman, approaching her middle-ages, steps out, dressed in a simple black and white uniform with blouse and fitted trousers. 

“Come along, my Lady, you’re soaked through. We’ll have a change of clothes prepared for you immediately.” She says. You give a little nod and follow her, wanting out of your wet clothes. Alois is proving himself to be more trustworthy and you hope that you’re doing the same in his eyes. The maid has faded red hair that fades to darker roots that show she likely had it a bright red colour not too long ago and is now trying to grow it out. She leads you to a guest room and opens the wardrobe where she pulls out a few shirts and bottoms, trying to find clothing in your size, if the way her eyes flicker from you to the material is anything to go by. She presents you with a simple dark blue jumper and black bottoms. 

“And your shoes, please.”

“My shoes?”

“Yes, they’re making quite the mess around the manor.” 

“Oh… of course. Sorry.” You slip them off and watch as she picks them up and exchanges them for a pair of socks passed into your hands. You change into them and follow her back to the dining room where the white-haired man is sitting at the head of the table. There’s a bowl of soup and bread prepared at the seat he had directed you to earlier. When you sit, he gestures to the food. 

“Forgive me but I’ve already eaten.” He says and you give a simple nod, swallowing thickly as you recall the glass of blood you found at his seat not that long ago. You glance down at the orange-red tomato soup and the little garnish set in the middle of it, sliced bread and butter on a little side dish nearby. 

⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ “This is very generous, thank you.”  ⋆ :₊ ᥫ᭡ “I actually ate shortly before the crash too…” You refuse to eat the food, it could be poisoned. 

#ᥫ᭡⋆ :₊ 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐 : 𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒄𝒚 (P2B) 🦇