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rarestnicole · 3 years

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[090221] To the force behind our power...

“To die is to rest.”

I’ve never felt defeated until today. I felt so helpless, so hopeless, so defiant at the same time.

Looking at your casket being wheeled in the church, I wanted to rebel so much. I want to rebel like you do when you know that you don’t like to do something. Your conviction is unbelievable and admirable at the same time.

I couldn’t believe that you’re already gone. I always thought that you’d be with us longer—more than I’d ever live—if possible.

We may not have the best relationship, but we had something unique; something that only the two of us share.

Everyone knows that I am not your biological granddaughter nor we are blood related. Despite that, you loved me. You loved me when I was young and I could still remember it vividly. You were usually the one who’d go up on stage to pin me my ribbons. I remember being so thankful for that because it’s always a struggle to ask someone to pin me my ribbons. Thank you for saving me from the hassle and pain then.

We only drifted when I grew up being a disciplinarian that Mommy is while you are the always indulging and tolerant grandma to all you grandchildren and great grandchildren.

I wasn’t sorry to how I treated them because I know in my heart that it was the best for them. The world isn’t limited to people who will understand us in the family, so I tried my best to instill values and discipline to them that will be of use to them when they go past our hold.

Lola, I believe I did a good job with how I established a relationship to your grandchildren and great grandchildren. The bonds we have now are precious and solid. I’ll continue to take good care of them; it may not be exactly how you would but I assure you that it will be for their goodness’s sake.

Our love-hate relationship continued through the years. We argue and disagree on a lot of things but I felt your love anyways in fleeting moments. I saw the way you loved me in glimpses that thankfully didn’t go unnoticed.

When we argue and Mom would butt in about returning me to Mama and Papa, you’d immediately say, “Mamunot takon.”

You dislike the idea of me being returned because, “Uja taran nagbahol, iuli pa nimo.”

‘Di ka naman wrong, La. Sa kwarto mo ako pinanganak, sa bahay at pamilya mo lumaki, at sa mga paniniwala at pag-uugali niyo natuto.

I always appreciate your conviction whenever we’re in that situation. Thank you so much.

I hope that you are aware of how much you’ve influenced me in more than 21 years of being with you physically and mentally. 😆

Elementary pa lang ako, expressions mo na ang bukambibig ko. I know that I shouldn’t say some of those, but I couldn’t help it. It’s weird how it was natural.

“Ay patay, buhu batuna.”

“Boras ni apay.”

‘Di ko alam ang meaning ng pangalawa because you refused to tell me, I think it was so bad, you’d rather keep it to yourself.

However, it’s already become natural for me to associate that expression in situations that it seem fitting, based on how and when I heard it from you.

Heck, I even brought it to the city, never minding if no one understood me. What mattered to me is the expression of my emotions exactly how I was used to. It was perfect and comforting to curse, to rant, and to talk the way I was used to and I was unapologetically me wherever I went.

That’s another thing that was your influence. You’re cool, yunno. I might disagree with some of your principles and beliefs but I learned that when I take it on another perspective, it’ll result to something that aligns to my own principles and beliefs. It’s not all bad.

We have the rarest relationship in the family, I must say.

You are always vocal of how much you love each other while we’re both vocal about how much we hate each other. 😆

Sabi nila, gahibla lang ang layo ng galit sa pagmamahal.

Guess that’s our love language. It’s unique, isn’t it?

We’d bicker here and there then die for each other time after time. 🤣

Hay, Lola.

Where are you now?

I sensed you last night, was I right? Is that really you?

I thought I knew loss when I lost Inang, but your loss is life-fucking-changing.

God knows how I genuinely cared for you. I don’t care if no one else knows its extent, all that mattered to me is that I do. Despite our ramblings about each other, I did care for you.

Well, maybe, I hoped that you felt it.

I’ve heard countless of times how much of a bionic woman you are. I held unto that.

I always thought that you’re a constant in our life, refusing to believe that you’ll leave us one day. I refused to entertain the thoughts of our house being empty of you physical presence. I refused to believe that you’re slowly getting old, that we’re slowly losing you.

Despite your old age, I dodged all of Mommy’s observance and countered with my own possibility. Kasi nga ayaw ko, hindi ko kaya. You are my constant as much as Mommy is.

I wasn’t prepared to be left, I refused to prepare. I’m sorry.

I used to reflect on my prayers and hopes and arrived to many conclusions.

I could be selfish because I’m holding you back in my head.

I may be toxically hopeful because I don’t want you to go.

Or maybe I was an ally on your pursuit of living longer and longer and longer.

Iniisip ko noon na hangga’t gusto mong mabuhay, kahit nahihirapan ka, ayos lang na panghawakan ka lagi. Nandito naman kami para umalalay, para tumulong, para mag-alaga. I’ll be an instrument to your pursuit of long life.

Saka na lang ako nag-entertain ng thoughts na, “Okay lang na wala ka sa piling namin, at least nakapagpahinga ka na,” no’ng wala ka na.

I know I’m selfish for refusing to let you go in your last days, when I saw you at your weakest.

Kasi, La, naniniwala akong lalakas ka pa. Alam kong lalakas ka pa, if only you were able to eat. You’re the sharpest person I know even in your weakest state. Your will to live is stronger than mine, that’s why it’s kinda annoying that you don’t get to live longer than you really do.

I’d give you some of my supposed sunsets if I could because I know that you’d like that.

In the days and nights of your wake, day and night, I was there with you because I want to; not just because I need to.

Despite of being there, looking at you through the glass, I didn’t think that you’re gone.

You’re there, alright. You’re there in a different part of the house, in different position, and different state, but never acknowledging that you’re actually dead.

God, it’s pathetic, right? What were you thinking then, La?

Ginaisip siguro nimo na umang ko? Haha.

Maiwan bay ko? Jaan gani. Pero tuwing naaalala nakon na patay don gid gani kaw, daw pirmi takon mapanawag sa imo kag mamangkot it, “Basi?”

Jaan takon.

Weird. Sorry, La.

Kaya kaina kang ginbuol don nanda kaw sa balay, daw birahon tikaw. Haha. Mamunot bala kaw kato? Char. Ay ilam sa aton. Tonta takon, La. 😆

I felt so defeated looking at your casket while listening to the homily. I mean, that’s another step to not-being-with-you. Itself inevitably closing in and I know that I can do nothing.

I experienced and felt things that I just hear, read, and watch from others before. I didn’t know how real those emotions and impulses were until today.

I couldn’t believe that when we go back home from the cemetery, there’s no more you. Not even on the casket. God, it’s a 360-degree change.

Mingaw taya La nga uwa kaw. Maiwan kami bay kaya?

Gatuna kag gatapos among adlaw sa imo, maiwan kami kaya?

I don’t mind serving you again. I don’t mind doing the things I didn’t expect to do again. I don’t mind those.

If I have something I mind, it’s about our personal bickerings and as long as I can vent it out somewhere, I’m okay again.

You made me experience things that taught me precious lessons and maybe, that’s exactly how I need to be so I could grow exactly how I’m fated to be.

I guess, despite our relationship, we are perfectly what we need for each other to grow on different manners, something vital to both of us as individuals.

Wow, La, perfect gali kita for each other. 😆 Well, that’s my reflection on our relationship.

I wasn’t able to mourn with complete abandon because of my denial, being the source of strength to those who need it, and my pointless hope.

La, I’ve never told you something, but I prayed countless of times about it. We were never vocal about our mushy sentiments, so it’s understandable. I’m utterly thankful for the family that you and Lolo Nito built.

I am me mostly me because of this family; the family that drew strength from you.

You are the Yggdrasil to our worlds.

You said, “to die is to rest,” so I’ll hold on to that. I’d love to think that you’re already comfortable wherever you’re now. Wherever you’re heading, know that we find comfort in your memories.

As the lyrics to your song goes:

“I will go far away where you can see me no more. Goodbye to you, I’m going to leave you now.

Sad and sorrow is to leave you now, but my darling what shall I do. Sad and sorrow is to leave you now, goodbye my love.”

Sad and sorrow indeed. We’ll get to acceptance thought. We’ll pray for both of our sakes.

Sabi mo, huwag kaming umiyak kasi magkikita pa naman tayo, ‘di ba?

So, yeah, see you, La.

Palangga tikaw.

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

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Kloktober, Oct. 16th: Dethstaff or Klokateers

Klokateers/Dethstaff for this one, really. Since it doesn’t matter what you call them, if they’re in Dethklok’s employ, they risk death daily.

Synopsis: It’s Annual Klokateer Remembrance Day, and Charles is Feeling It a.k.a. having emotions and it is A Lot for him. But then, it’s a lot for the Klokateers too.

TW for death and mourning.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“This is always a hard day,” Charles said, and sighed deeply.

He meant it. He wasn’t an overtly emotional person, but he had to interview, hire, learn about and interact with every Klokateer. Whether he wanted to or not, he knew many of them incredibly well, which made it all the more difficult to bury them.

This day, Annual Klokateer Remembrance Day, was the hardest day though, even beyond the individual funerals.

“Thank you all for being here,” Charles continued. “We do offer this day off, for all who wish to commemorate it privately. But you all are here today, and that shows great strength and bravery. I appreciate your care for each other, that is evident here.”

The crowd of unmasked, in street clothes Klokateers was something else to face. It was odd, to be able to see all their features, to make out one from the other more easily than when they were in uniform.

A reminder that while they were dedicated to the literal death employees, they were still people. Still human.

“We have candles available for all who would like them, and the period of non-denominational prayer and remembrance will begin in five minutes,” Charles said, watching as they filtered up front in a careful queue to take candles from the boxes near the stage. “After, the boys have prepared video speeches that will play. We know that it can be a bit...raw, seeing them in person on this day, so they have been sent on vacation for the next few days. After that, the open mic period will commence. As always, you may come up and eulogize any fallen coworkers, in whatever manner you like. If you have prepared music, please hand it to Dick, who is handling our mixing for the event.”

Dick Knubbler, who had been keeping to the wings of the stage, leaned out and waved gently, wincing at Charles as he leaned back.

He couldn’t blame him. There were a lot of tears and open sobbing this year, and it was all perfectly valid. It had been a rough year for their staff, somehow even more of a bloodbath than usual. And that took a toll.

It choked him up, five minutes later, watching them all in their various forms of prayer, or deep thought. Heads bowed, shoulders shaking through quieted tears.

They gave everything for this job. He would do the same. But how could he ever explain it to anyone outside of the Dethklok empire, should anyone have ever asked?

He didn’t think he could. You either were ready to die for the boys, for the job, or you weren’t.

That had factored in when he had helped the boys tape their speeches as well. They’d been less tone-deaf than last year, but even so, his editing had been required.

Nathan’s was first.

“Hey guys,” Nathan looked uncomfortable. He had insisted upon sitting on his bed for the video, for reasons Charles hadn’t felt he wanted to know. “So...a lot of you died. And that sucks, and we’re really sorry about it. You do a lot for us. Uhhhh....like the time I was really drunk, and I threw up in my own hair. One of you washed my hair for me, and braided it after, and that was really cool. I got told that guy died in an accident with the jet...so, I wanna say I hope he’s doin’ good. Wherever dead people go. Braiding hair in heaven, ya know? Um...yeah.”

Pickles was next.

“So, people dyin’ sucks,” Pickles had, somehow, been sober for the video. It shocked Charles, but Pickles had insisted on staying put together for it. It was a nice but surprisingly mature thing for Pickles to do. “And I know that saying that doesn’t make it easier to deal with. You gotta...feel it, ya know? Feel the pain. Cry a bunch. Scream. Maybe kick something, or break a lamp. We got lots of extra lamps, if you need to do that, just ask Charles about it. But yeah...do all of that today, okay? For me. Maybe get drunk or stoned if ya gotta, but be safe. We don’t want any of ya dying during this thing, after all. Anyway. We love ya, and everything you do.”

Murderface had been the hardest one to film, mostly because Murderface didn’t want to film it at all. “This isch kind of schtupid, if I’m honest. I mean, my parentsch are dead, and I don’t do anything like this about it. Whatever, Charlesch is doing the ‘shut the fuck up’ hand gesture. Look, we’re schorry a bunch of you die all the time. You do good work, and dying isch rough. But hey, other people in the world are gettin’ fired from jobsch and dying in the street. At least that ain’t you, right?”

Skwisgaar had filmed his outside, with one of the yard wolves sleeping in his lap. Charles felt like the wolf helped, oddly enough. Like watching a puppy sleep, or something. Cute and soothing. “Yous guys ams the backbone of this place, but you does dies an awful lots. And that ams somethings regretables. But we don’ts wants you to dies, if that helps any. The jobs ams simply a dangerous one, but yous all knows that. Keeps up the good work, and wes will tries to gets less of you killed.”

Toki’s was...a mess. But a well-meaning and sweet mess, at least. “We loves you guys,” Toki sobbed. “Ams so sorrys you always dyings so much. You don’ts deserves that. You makes me Hot Pockets all the times, and gets Pickle weed, and braids Nathan’s hair, and I thinks a few of you fucks Skwisgaar which ams nice-” He brushed tears from his eyes. “Since he ams arguably the ugliest of all of us. But enoughs about how yous hold backs your vomits over him. You little guys ams the best. I loves you.”

Charles watched as Dick switched everything over to the open mic, and sighed. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to stay for the whole thing, or to slip out and leave them to it. He didn’t have to worry about them, he knew that. This was a holy day for everyone, and they always behaved well. Dick could handle the emcee duties, if needed.

But that wouldn’t be right, to leave. The part that was perhaps hardest to admit, was that his own hand played in these deaths, in various ways, even if unintentional.

He owed it to the lost Klokateers to stay, so he would.

#text post #LeeH writes #metalocalypse #metalocalypse fic #kloktober

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oisaaac · 4 years

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“ Six feet under ”

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Summary: Crowley decides to pay a little visit to his one and only love.

Warnings: angst, character death, sad boi crowley

Notes: English isn't my native language, so sorry for any mistakes this hasn't been proofread either.

This is very out of the blue and maybe a little cliché idk, but i hope some of you enjoy it nonetheless <3

kinda off from the original show plot but try to bare with me uwu

inspired from billie eilish's song 'six feet under'

Help, I lost myself again

But I remember you

Thick heavy grey clouds shrouded above the cemetery as if it read Crowley's mood. It was the same heavy weight he felt everyime he decides to pay you a visit. The same weight that seems to get heavier as time ticks by.

It had been a year since you died. A year that seems to be dreadfully longer than the time Crowley stayed above earth.

It was always a reminder for him how different his celestial form is from a human being like you. You always joked around that he had to see you die at some point—with grey hair and wrinkling skin while he didn't age even a bit, yet look where he is now.

He didn't expect it to come too soon, too fast, too sudden and too painful. It made him think what was really God's ineffable plan? He couldn't even ask it himself. Besides it was ineffable after all.

He should've seen this coming though. A demon falling in love with a human? Both of you knew things can't get normal. For one he was an immortal under a lot of circumstances and you on the other hand was—fragile. The moment you saw the bright light when you were brought to this world you were already hanging on a thin thread. Surviving for only a small barrowed time. Crowley always thought it was some kind of inside joke made by God, a very cruel joke.

Small droplets started to fall down from the sky as Crowley stood looking at the flowers he have in his hands.

You would've loved this. He thought to himself kneeling down on the moist grass, not bothered by the uncomfortable feeling of the contact with his jeans before staring at your grave stone.

It still feels unreal for him, seeing your name precisely carved on the stone which made his heart wrenched.

Retrace my lips

Erase your touch

It's all too much for me

But Crowley knew he would rather feel the pain in his chest over and over again rather than forget about you even if he could never be the same when he was with you.

His closest friend Aziraphale felt pity for the demon, but loving someone always has a cost to pay and he could only give much reassurance to his dear friend. Besides, he was somehow at fault considering you died in his shop trying to help him. Crowley didn't blame the angel though, knowingly you wouldn't either, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself and giving the silent treatment to the angel (which Aziraphale understood where he was coming from) for months. You would have opposed to if you knew, knowing their friendship was one of the strongest bonds you had ever seen. Luckily they were good now yet Crowley still needed more time to mourn.

You were always so kind and gentle, one of the traits Crowley loved about you. Good or bad you seem to look surpass every label knowing it was more than just what they perceive. To you Crowley isn't just the demon who had fallen to spread evil, he was your Crowley; your sassy kind hearted loving demon. He never wanted to have such vulnerability, but he let himself otherwise.

Of course he didn't regret any of it. He would need to die first before he ever regrets choosing a path with you in it. Even if he knew the moment you walked in Aziraphale's bookshop clumsily waltzing in his life only to bring this kind of pain he was currently feeling he would never choose of you not being a part of him. If only he could have had more time just one more second to see you smile, to feel your soft touch, to look directly into your loving eyes that made him feel like he was home. It sometimes brought Crowley anxiety with the thought that he didn't deserve what he was feeling with you—the joy, appreciation and love, yet you always said that he did, he did deserve happiness but the tragedy that comes with it had come unforeseen.

Blow away

Like smoke in air

How can you die carelessly?

Why did you have to go inside? Why didn't you just wait for me. You were human afterall. You weren't built to withstand heavy flames and thick smokes. You've always been so reckless for the sake of others. You knew it was dangerous, but you risked your life nonetheless.

Crowley laid the flowers near your headstone before he caressed the letters of your name closing his eyes trying to remember every detail of your face.

"Just for a second. If you're really listening to everyone's prayer then bid mine. Just for a second. Look at me you've foresaken me and let me fall into the pit yet here I am calling out for you." He looked up calling out to somebody, something or someone who was listening to his mantra. "Please!" He choked through the verge of tears. "I love her. I'll always will. If this is my sin then punish me for eternity, but let me see her just for a second." The only response a low rumble of thunder and finally the heavy clouds opened its gates letting the rain freely fall from the heavens camouflaging Crowley's tears.

They're playin' our sound

Layin' us down tonight

And all of these clouds

Crying us back to life

But you're cold as a night

It was no use. You're gone. The pain settled in his chest eating his insides. It was his punishment after all.

Crowley was soaked by the time he was snapped out of his small trance. He fixed the flowers on your grave before putting the individual red rose in the middle remembering how much you loved that red flower then grabbing the old ones to dispose them before standing up and taking one last glance of you until his next visit.

He whispered his promise that he would come back over and over for the rest of his eternity, he had all the time in his hands anyways.

Six feet under

I can't help but wonder

If our grave was watered by the rain

Bloom

Again

Crowley turned around to head over his bentley only to be met by your e/c eyes. He didn't even realized his grip on the flowers loosened as he blinked once, twice, more than enough to make sure he wasn't seeing things while raining and there you were like an epiphany standing on your red dress drenched in rain smiling like an idiot at him. You took deliberate steps closing in the gap between the two of you while you kept your eyes locked on his yellow serpent eyes that you grew to love.

"Y/n," Crowley whispered still trying to figure out how.

"Crowley," You put your hand on his cheeks caressing his wet skin with your thumb. You didn't even understood how, but you were happy. You missed him so much that you didn't say another word and just leaned in connecting your lips with his he didn't respond at first, but slowly he recognized you. It was really you, his beloved y/n. He had so many questions hanging on the back of his head, but he didn't dare to utter any of them. He didn't want to let you go and waste whatever miracle it was that brought you here.

All the muscles in each of your bodies molded into one. You and Crowley were in sync like a melody that you both practiced over and over again. Your hands made its way on the back of his neck tangling your fingers on his wet ginger locks, Crowley's hands gripped you tight yet at the same time gently trying not to break you under his touch. The intensity of yearning and all the other emotions that comes with it all swirled into one.

Out of breath you both parted staring at eachothers eyes. "I love you too." You softly spoke your truth.

Maybe whatever was up there was really listening. Either way Crowley held on you to the very last second of your borrowed time.

"We'll be together again someday." You reassured him while you smiled. Crowley just studied your face and for the first time in a while genuinely smiled and was happy. And it was enough as goodbye for the both of you... for now.

Help, I lost myself again

But I remember you

Kinda long A/N: honestly idk what to feel about this if its good or not in my 19 years of existence i always wrote fanfics imagines and stuffs but usually i usually put it up then delete it later because i dont have any confidence of my work but im trying again. this is my first time posting in tumblr though.i hope this is good, like it gave you feels because it did when i wrote it. please don't kill me that i made crowley straight oof 🥺 sorry for any mistakes again! thank you for taking time on reading this and if you reblog and press the heart thingy thank you so much i will love you forever 💕

#crowley x reader #crowley #anthony j crowley #good omens #david tennant #aziraphale #crowley imagine

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chanlyeya · 7 years

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I asked empressarcana about this but i wanna hear your headcanons too! (Bless the two of you for all these TL posts!) How do you think it would go once isabella introduces ashton to her family? And isabella to ashton's family? I mean there's probably a disconnect since they come from different cultures and social standings! But I wanna know how they both deal with it!

This is such a cute ask (｡ ˃艸˂) I’m more than happy to provide posts for this fandom nonnie, I love it nearly as much as Ash loves Belle (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ✧

Before I answer, I want to make one thing clear: I am a Canadian of mixed European descent, specifically Hungarian, Finish and German, so I have absolutely no first hand experience with any of their respective cultures. I can look things up, but that’s only so accurate, so I apologize beforehand if anything seems uncharacteristic!

Since Ash’s family is smaller, and nearby, we’ll start with his, as Belle is definitely going to meet them before Ash meets hers. Since she meets his surrogate father figure in the actual game itself, I’m going to leave Professor Andrew out of this 😅

First member to be met, is Mama Frey, and Belle is nervous as all get out. She asks both Ash and Becca so many questions about her leading up to the meeting. Ash thinks it’s adorable and is enjoying watching her freak out, until the day they’re supposed to meet up and goes to pick up Belle but, she’s not at home??? And not answering her phone??? Then he starts to freak out until Becca calls him to let him know she’s with her; she showed up at half past six freaking out over her hair of all things and Becca’s been trying to calm her down since. It serves him right, enjoying his girlfriend’s freak out like that.

Anyways, once Ash stops being an ass, he goes to pick up Belle, who latches on to his hand and won’t let go until they reach his mom’s place. He can feel her nerves through the way she grips his hand, so he tries to calm her down by running his thumb over the lines of her palm, and, when that doesn’t work, flicks her forehead. That works much better, and though he mourns the loss of her hand in his, he knows she appreciates it despite the glare she sends him.

Mama Frey opens the door before they even have a chance to knock as she was watching them approach because, damnit, she’s been waiting for this day for years! Her son may be under the delusion that’s he’s cool and smooth and can keep a secret, but not from his mama! She knew this Isabella would be the one for her son ever since she received that call half a decade ago where he drunkenly ranted about some stupid girl on some stupid bridge with her stupid smile!

Mama Frey shoos them into the house where they find she made them a feast, complete with all of Isabella’s favourites. Turns out, Isabella wasn’t the only one bugging Becca about the upcoming meeting and Belle is super touched??? And, to top everything off, unlike her son, Mama Frey not only knows how to cook but??? Is actually quite good at it???? Belle immediately tells her boyfriend he better watch out, because he’s quickly losing his position as her favourite Frey ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Needless to say, Isabella and Mama Frey hit it off big time. Lots of embarrassing stories are shared, and Mama Frey thanks Isabella for putting up with her son. He may be an idiot at times, but he has his heart in the right place. Belle says not to worry, she knows, and though he tends to mess up a lot, she still loves him for it 💘

There’s nothing else to say, since Ash dies right then and there ;)

Joking! The next member to be met is Papa Frey! Just like with Mama Frey, there is a lot of talk with Becca about what to do, since Ash is biased and therefore useless whenever she asks him for help. Since her meeting with Mama Frey went so well, Belle is not nearly as nervous this time and doesn’t run off without a note to her boyfriend’s relief.

Now, I imagine Ash’s dad to be much like mine, and, very relaxed??? My dad’s a lot like Professor Andrew actually. He’s not as prepared for the meeting as Mama Frey was, since he believes in just letting things happen. To Ash’s immense relief, he does not pull out all forms of embarrassing stories, and instead they have a deep discussion about art??? He’s seen some of her paintings and is very impressed and, in fact, he owns one of them. He went to her exhibit she had done with Zach, wanting to know a bit more about this girl his boy was in love with. Once more, Isabella turns to Ash and tells him, if he doesn’t do anything, he’ll soon become her least favourite Frey 😂

As far as Ash is concerned, it’s perfect, Not embarrassing in the least, until, near the end, Papa Frey asks Belle if his son told her he loved her yet??? And Ash is all, “uh, dad, we’re dating”. And Papa Frey is shocked??? “With how you act and talk about her, I thought for sure you were still in the pining stage!” Ash takes it back—his dad is so much more embarrassing then either Professor Andrew or his mom!!!

Alright, so, that’s it for Isabella meeting Ash’s family, now for the real challenge: Ash meeting Isabella’s!

It’s a bit over two years into their relationship before the two of them can both set aside enough time to head down to meet the family for a week. Mama Santos is super looking forward to finally meeting the man who captured her daughter’s heart???? Belle had never even entertained the idea of dating before Ash, and suddenly they’ve been in a relationship for two years and from what Mama Santos has heard, this boy really loves her daughter????

Mama Santos prepared for him big time. She had the house cleaned top to bottom a week prior, and just kept cleaning it during her free time. She rearranged the furniture in the guest room, and Isabella’s old room. They would be sleeping in different rooms, which is kinda a bummer as far as Ash is concerned, but, whatever pleases her family. They come bearing gifts, which endears Ash to the younger siblings, and while Mama Santos loves him immediately, the same cannot be said about all her siblings :’( I have another ask asking about exactly that, so I’ll go into detail when I answer that one.

Mama Santos immediately treats him as part of the family, and tries to get him to help out with cooking, but Belle puts a stop to that immediately. Ash apologizes and says he’s still learning how to cook thats a lie, Isabella doesn’t let him in the kitchen even to watch but he offers to help clean instead. Mama Santos is a bit worried over the fact that he can’t cook, since she loved to cook with Papa Santos and the kids, it was a family activity, but he didn’t have any other glaring faults so she lets it slide.

They visit Bella’s father’s grave. Bella brings flowers, and Ash brings incense, a basket, and a barrel of water. He cleans the grave first, then burns a stick of incense, before sitting in front of the grave and starting to a tea ceremony where he then leaves a wooden cup full of it before the grave. He apologizes to the grave, saying he doesn’t know if he would like the matcha, but it’s all he learned how to make properly. Isabella asks what he’s doing and he explains that he doesn’t know if Filipino have a traditional way of honouring the dead, but this is what his mom taught him to do whenever visiting the grave of his grandparents, and he wants to treat Papa Santos with the same respect.

Isabella falls a bit more in love then

They stay until the incense finishes burning, the two of them just…silently standing side by side, each offering their own prayers to the man. When they finally leave, Isabella takes Ash’s hand and reassures him that Papa would’ve appreciated the thought and act behind what he did, and that he would’ve loved him.

Since this also got long, I’ll put it under a read more when I get home. On that note; do you guys like these long responses, or should I start cutting them shorter???? (｡ ˃艸˂)

#the letter vn #the letter visual novel #asks #ashton frey #isabella santos #ashbella #otp: the truth he holds against the world

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wizardsnwookies · 7 years

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Campaign Diary- TOD101117

Once downed members were fully healed, it was a simple matter to clear out the rest of the dragon’s lair. Having survived the wrath of the Emerald Assassin, a few cultists and Ettans were not much of a challenge. Once the cave was secure the first priority was the captured civilians who were far more in number than seen through the Scrying censor. The sheer number of captives left alive was confusing at first, that is until they found the wyrmspeaker’s journal in a small antechamber.

The journal itself belonged to one Narenvane, son of King Melendrag. It’s narrative was far too deep to dive into with the time given to them but the most recent pages did enlighten the party on the purpose of the captives. Sacrifices. Sacrifices for the final ritual were required, and were being gathered by the thousands. If the gravity of the situation hadn’t yet sunken in, the idea that there was a ritual being cast that required so much blood, so many lives, shook each of them to their core. Of course, a little raiding of the dragon hoard did much to lift their spirits.

---

The Prince was standing with his advisors, going over their latest fortifications to the settlement when he felt something poke him on what remained of his severed arm. Looking over, and slightly downward, he saw a smiling Dain. His flesh began to tingle, and he felt a wave of coolness spread through his body. Then, a tightness from under the bandages wrapped around the bloody stump. The gauze and cotton began to stretch before finally giving way to a small appendage sprouting from the wound like a sapling.

“Told you I’d fix it.” Dain smiled. The battle with the Dragon left him drained but after a good nights sleep he found himself rejuvenated with a power he had not yet known. His morning prayers had changed as well. He felt closer to his goddess, almost as if he was this close to reaching out and touching her.

The prince knelt down and placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder.

“Thank you, for making me whole again. It is good to see you return, we saw the dragon retreating to the east and did not know what to think of your mission.”

“We were very close to slaying him, but the coward decided to flee before we could finish him. At the very least, the cultists will no longer be a problem and we have managed to return the captives as well.”

“On behalf of my father and our people, I think you for your service. We will be wary of course, however I to suffer a defeat is not something taken lightly by dragonkind.”

“Where do you think he could have gone? It still might be best to track him down and ensure he is out of the picture.”

“Hard to say.” The prince cast his eyes upward in thought. “Southwood, the mountains, Parnast...wherever it is, I’m sure he has gone to sulk as opposed to ravage.”

Skydancer nodded, she still would much rather ensure her blade caused the end of the monster but there were more pressing issues at the moment.

“There’s no way to put this delicately...do you have a brother Prince?”

“A half brother.” The prince’s face immediately darkened. “Prince Narenvane, he died many years ago. Why do you ask?”

Skydancer solemnly reached into her pack and pulled out a small leather-bound journal and offered it.

“I’m afraid he was the dragon rider and a wyrmspeaker for the cult. He was slain during battle.”

“I...don’t even know where to begin.” The prince opened the book and carefully turned the pages through his fingers, his face slowly turning to something resembling sorrow. “Oh brother, what have you done?

“He was the elder between us. Birthed by our father’s first wife, unfortunately he never forgave him for remarrying. We believed him dead after a long absence, I am afraid it would have been better if that were so.”

“I’m sorry we were the ones that had to tell you.”

“It is quite alright, my brother’s actions were his own. In a way I’m sure this will bring a sense of closure for us. At least now we can properly mourn. Once again, I thank you for your service here. If there is anything I can do to aid you, do not hesitate.”

Skydancer looked back at the group somewhat awkwardly. Her outburst at the last council meeting did not leave a promising relationship between her in particular and King Melendrag, who was already somewhat against providing his full support to begin with.

“If you could perhaps talk to your father, we would very much appreciate his full support in our efforts against the cult.”

“You shall have it.” The prince nodded. He said nothing further, but the determination in his eyes said everything. Is spoke of a prince who had seen his people suffer in the absence of their king, who had seen the terrors of the cult first hand, who is the only person who could possible humble a stubborn king.

---

Osborne sat at the table with the rest of the group, but his mind was elsewhere. Things had been quite stressful as of late, and he needed a night to just relax. With four ales under his belt, he was well on his way. Everyone else had their own beverage, wine for Skydancer, ale for Dane, tea for Lotus and Barton...and were letting the day settle in.

Thanks to Dain’s “word of recall” spell, the return to Waterdeep was a matter of muttering a few words before they popped back into existence in the small chamber designated for the task in the guild hall. A meeting with Lady Illia was arranged with Leosin and the debrief was itself brief. It was agreed that the Green Dragon was most likely sulking and would no longer be a part of the equation. Lotus handed over the Green Dragon mask for safe keeping...making it two out of the presumed five masks out of the hands of the cult. And a follow up council meeting was scheduled for the following day, hopefully yielding a new sense of cooperation from King Malendrag. But for now, they all needed this, a night to themselves.

“Excuse me? Yes, I knew it was you! Please, let me buy you all a drink!” The calloused hands of an elderly gentleman fell upon Skydancer’s shoulder as he leaned across the table. His smile was warm and welcoming through a snow white beard, but Skydancer didn’t get this far without being cautious.

“Who are you?”

“Callen, Callen Brickleberry. I have a small bogberry farm, not much to speak of but it’s a peaceful life. Well, it was anyways. We all know the work you’re doing for us and, well, I just wanted to show my thanks. Please, let me buy you a round.”

Skydancer’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptively but she sensed no deceit in the old man and so allowed her muscles to relax and her hand fall from the hilt of her moonblade underneath the table.

Callen brought more than drinks to the table. He brought warmth and camaraderie and the kind of free spirited merry-making that no one in the group had felt in a long time. Soon, his friends were coming over and joining them. Adding their own smiles and tales and laughter to the evening. Skydancer wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw even Barton allow a laugh escape his lips.

As she scanned the growing crowd, glad that her team were given this night to unwind, her eyes fell upon a new face...no...eyes. Wide, glaring eyes with the look of madness around the edges. Eyes attached to a man standing next to Osborne. Eyes that suddenly became frighteningly familiar.

“THE CULT SENDS ITS REGARDS!!” The Warlock who had not too long ago tore the very soul from Osborne’s sister lifted a glowing orb into the air and threw it down in the middle of the table. A flash of light blinded the room and puff of smoke and sulfur exploded from the glass sphere.

Screams filled the tavern and bodies threw themselves over each other trying to escape, when from within the cloud of smoke a figure began to materialize. A massive, hulking body of muscle wielding a nightmarish axe spread it’s wings wide and smiled evilly, baring its pointed teeth and fangs.

The orb pulses, causing all movement to strobe. Osborne catches glimpses of action between flashes. Lotus desperately trying to guide the commoners to safety. FLASH. Skydancer in mid-swing of her moonblade. FLASH. The vile warlock casting some unknown spell towards Dain.

With each flash a new terror erupts from the orb. A second demon. Then a swarm of smaller insect like creatures that immediately attack the common folk trapped between the exit and these monstrous beings.

More death...all because of him. Osborne can’t do anything for a moment, overcome by guilt and anger. No. This needs to end.

Osborne stands and at first he think he had been crouching too long, and the blood suddenly rushed too quickly to his head, for everything goes black. A demonic laugh tells him that this not a simple head rush, and if he was going to have any part of stopping this madness, he’d have to pick a direction and run until the light returned to him.

His sight restores just in time to see the form of an insectoid devil mauling a commoner, blood dripping from it’s mandibles as it turns to look at him in surprise. Quickly, the half-ling grabs the magical Defender from it’s sheath and slashes, feeling steel bite flesh. Then, everything turns green and foul as a gaping maw belches out a cloud of fog in his face, nearly choking him to death. Osborne stumbles backwards, holding his sword out in front of him.

“FOR MY SISTER!!“

Osborne opens his eyes just in time to see the warlock point a single trembling finger at him from across the room. And for a while, that’s all he remembers.

Skydancer’s moonblade carves into the darkness, swinging wildly as she hears the sounds of death around her. She crouches on her back swing, ready to pick a direction and run when a whiff of pine blows through the air and light returns, revealing the chaos around her.

She looks back to Barton who lowers his hands and nods to her. She had noticed ever since his change in patronage his magic had become far less destructive. Normally she wouldn’t be too keen on the loss of firepower, but at this moment it was difficult to argue with the results.

Lotus and Dain were doing their best to help defend the common folk, but she could tell already that the casualties would be great. At her feet, Callen Buckleberry lay slain, bleeding over the table. And now, Osborne drops to the floor, Waldorf rushing to his aid but with a very obvious look of concern on his face.

“NO!!! HE MUST DIE!!!!”

FLASH. A third demon appears as the orb pulses at her feet.

“That’s quite enough of that.” Skydancer plunges her sword down upon the glass and with a burst of brimstone it shatters into dust.

“NO!!!!” The warlock didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his evil device. Osborne was back on his feet and fired an arrow from behind an overturned table that just barely missed his head. Dain charges from the side, only to dissapear with a “POP” with the gesture of a finger.

The demons ignored for the moment, the entire group focuses on the madman in the cloaks before them. Skydancer’s blade cuts long gashes into his torso, from which bursts of flame erupt and scorch her own flesh. But it was Waldorf his eyes were cast to now, as a gnarled finger lifted into the air an shot from it a solid beam of sickly green light. And within an instant, the warlock was reduced to a cloud of ash.

---

Osborne held the black gem in the palm of his hand, staring into it’s depths. The rest of the demons were easy enough to dispatch, but the price was costly. Around him, the rest of the party were helping carry the dead outside to be identified and dealt with according to their wishes.

A soul gem, Waldorf says. He can only guess who’s soul resides within. But it is a hollow victory. He closes his hand around the smooth surface and watches as Lotus and Barton help carry the limp form of Carren Buckleberry outside. Just a kind old man who wanted to buy them a drink.

“It’s not your fault you know...” Skydancer places a gently hand on his shoulder, but it feels cold to him.

“Yes it is.”

#Tyranny of Dragons #dungeons and dragons #campaign diary

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xeezhiah · 7 years

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13 August 2017 - Run Rio Trilogy Leg 2: Afroman Distance

6.12mi = 9.85km

Well, I again tapped my run tracker so late from gun start and too early as I crossed the finish line that I didn’t reach the exact 10K again. But like last run, I did finish the race coz if not, I won’t be getting my finisher’s medal.

This is second to the last run for 2017 and I mean it.

Schatz survived her first 10K and as expected, she gave me a new PR. If I have seen it right on the official timer, I hit the line at 1:25:48, I will get to see my confirmed runner and gun times on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Other than it is Schatz’s first 10K race, this is also the first race that I ran that has two separate venues as its start and finish points. Run kicked off in Okada Manila premises and then it stopped at SM Mall of Asia Running Grounds. Not that I am ranting but this is also the first run that has more than 3 U-Turns on its course. I think there were 5 or 6 of it - the most confusing race route I ever ran so far.

This is only my 4th time running the 10k distance but I am happy that I was able to break my latest PR again even if I unofficially beaten it by matters of seconds. A new PR is a new PR and I will take it anytime. Props to the fact that I only had 5 days of training, I didn’t get as much sleep as needed and I kept waking up every hour for some reasons.

It felt since yesterday that I wasn’t in the perfect shape to even break my PR but race day proved otherwise, endorphins won over all the odds that were against my favour.

As early as the 2km mark, I was struggling. My right knee down to my ankle were hurting so I had to stop running and brisk walked instead. While I was doing so, I was talking to myself:

“There is no reason to give up, sweetheart. 6km more to go, we CAN do this, keep going!”

At 2.5km mark, at the hydration station, I had no choice but to splash my face with cold water because my body’s heat is climbing up to my face and it could get worse if I don’t do something about it.

Started limping because the ankle really is hitting me bad at the 4km mark but I kept going still. Getting to break my PR still is my goal and that I need to get that medal. I didn’t give up on my 12 previous run, so what is my excuse now?

I have had a cramp and pulled hamstring scare at the 6km mark which limited me to walking again instead of running. Truth be told, I worried on that part because I may not be able to reach the finish line within my target time but – surprise, surprise, at the 8th km mark, my tracker said that my time is 1:10 - that is more than enough to finish the last 2km, within my target time.

And I did.

I couldn’t be more proud of myself for doing so in spite getting hurt.

“Nasaktan, pero naka PR. Palaban ee!” - that’s how I captioned my run as I share it on Facebook. Nothing is more precious than finishing the race and having the medal given to you (worn to you, maybe but I am ot confident on such choice of word) as soon as you reach the finish line. It’s like the medal in itself is enough to take all the pain away.

I didn’t bother braving the long lines at each of the sponsors’ booth because my right foot really hurts that I needed a space on my own so that I could try and stretch it. I hurried to get my finisher’s loot, left the race village and settled in one of the pillars in One E-Com Building to stretch my foot out. It gave me relief but when I started walking again, I knew I needed a medicated spray and a bandage.

I did just that as soon as I got home. As I compose this, I am pressing/stretching both my legs against the wall while my right foot is bandaged. I’m certain I would be out of the road run for the next two weeks to let this foot heal first.

It is also a wise decision to just finish the Trilogy and not aim to get to 10 runs for 2017 because my body says I am tired and I needed longer rest. I have 5 runs (6 actually because the third installment of the trilogy is on October 1st) to brag this year anyway and that is just enough to say I have had more runs, more because these are longer distances compared to most of what I have ran last year. This year, I believe I was braver!

Now this is the point where I wanna say something special to two important persons who makes up who I am.

First is for that someone who I have not met personally but has touched my life since High School through music. It was a proof that music alone can change people, music can influence a lot of one’s decisions and music heals wounds that not everyone can see. Appreciating Linkin Park is obviously inches away from my being a Backstreet Boys fangirl, but I loved “Papercut” the same way that I loved “I want it that way”. Chester Bennington was my rocker version of AJ McLean, and it broke my heart into fine pieces at the knowledge of his passing. Chester was a huge part of my teenage life, I screamed with him, emulating his unique voice when singing “In The End” and “One Step Closer”. When I needed to break free from all the stress life throws at me, Linkin Park songs were my escape. Chester’s death seems like I have lost a part of me that I can never take back anymore. I ran this morning with a heavy heart, because a part of me continues to mourn for Chester.

A part of me died with Chester Bennington, he was and forever will be my favourite Linkin Park member and just like other fans out there, I know the band will never be the same without him. There are many hows and whys to ask but will be left unanswered now that he us laid to rest. His passing is an eye opener, that we should appreciate life no matter how it sucks sometimes and that there will always be people who are willing to help when you feel like the rest of the world is against you.

Chester Bennington, you may not know me but I am one of the many people who loves you dearly. I dedicate this run for you, for the music that you shared with the world and for the life that you have lived. Heaven has gained another rock star angel in you. Rest in peace! 🙏

Second is for that someone who I constantly see as my inspiration, be it in running or in making my ultimate dream a reality. We breathe the same air and looks on at the same sky but most of the time, we are halfway around the world apart. In spite the odds, I continue to love in silence, I opt not to stop.

Yesterday, I heard mass by “accident” and I looked at it as God’s way of helping me ease my worry about today’s run and much more, I took advantage of me being in the church to humbly pray for him, for his good health and for his safety. I ask God all of these things everyday but it is always special that I was in the church when I rarely do that. At that point and always, my prayers were more for him than for me.

I kept waking up every hour during my sleep prior to going to Okada. I called it a night at 2230H but I woke up 30minutes later, then again at 0000H and at 0130H, respectively. At 0245H, I decided to just get up and start preparing for the run which requires the 10K runners to be at the Assembly area at 0430H for the 0450H gunstart. It isn’t true that I didn’t know why I kept waking up every hour because I knew why all along. As I toss and turn, there is one constant thing - he lingers in my mind and is haunting me in my dream. Then when I opened Facebook, I figured out why he was in my thoughts - he’s restless because he was waiting to go on duty which repeatedly got cancelled since Saturday afternoon until I ran and finished it. I feel for him like I always do. Hopefully, he gets to rest and that the duty he is supposed to serve will finally push through as per the new schedule.

At the 7th km mark of the run, my running playlist on Spotify played One Direction’s “Perfect” and as I stride, I suddenly cried. I got reminded of him for some reasons, I may never be the perfect one for him, I don’t think I’ll ever be but I will always look at him as the love of my life - THAT love of my life who is not going to be mine, ever.

And I am at peace with that so long as he is happy.

My dear SO, for the nth time around, thoughts of you kept me fighting. Your smile on my screenlock kept me going. You may be elusive but it isn’t an excuse nor a reason for me to stop doing what I do because I feel so alive even at the thought of you. You are lifeline to me, seeing you happy is more than enough for me to have more reasons to live. Thank you for inspiring me in ways you don’t even know how. Thank you for your existence, love, because you made me feel more alive than I ever be. In my silence, I will continue to love you. I will always love you. My success in this run is yours, too, just as I have promised. Advanced happy birthday, my heart’s favourite. Fly and come back home safe, my love! ❤

So much of the outpour of emotions now, someone needs to get some sleep! 😅

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