#archester-writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archester-creations · 7 months

Text

Rated: M

Pairing: Archester (Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester), brief Cardin & Velvet & Russel siblings

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: @whumptober alt. prompt 5: body modification, fire, body horror, gore, being burnt alive, phoenix faunus Cardin au

Cardin knew what it was like to get burnt. The heat that danced across your skin. The way that it lingered and stung for hours, days. Knew from experience how long it took for a bad burn to heal, how the skin never looked or felt the same, how the shape of the flame seemed seared into the flesh forever. So why did he push Jaune out of the way? Why did he rush into the heart of a fire he saw coming instead of turning the other way.

"You like him-" he heard a voice that sounded like Russel's whisper. "You know how it felt and you don't want someone else to go through the same. You're not as much of an asshole as you fear you are."

He knew the pain to expect.

Cardin screamed. For the first time in a long time, he screamed in pain. It tore through his throat with all the subtlety of a battering ram. The pain was wrong. It was all wrong; it was nothing like he experienced when the fire danced along his hip a few years ago, when it boiled and scarred the flesh there. The fire felt like it tore deeper: claws that seared and tore into his flesh, ripped it apart so the flame could feast on the blood and bone inside him. Just under his own screams, he thought he could hear a crack.

At some point he must have fallen. Or maybe it started with him on the ground. Dirt– ash– dirt was under his fingertips, under his nails. He clawed at the earth. The fire prevented any blood from being spilt as the skin at his back ripped and peeled apart under the heat. His screams ratcheted upward in intensity. Even so, he heard the cracking as it came more insistently now, coupled with the heat intensifying at his back. Something rolled there, under the muscle. Something pushed at the shoulder blades– at the old scars he hardly noticed anymore– until it broke through his body all at once. The scream froze in his throat as the pain slammed into him with a force yet unknown. With a force like death.

There was the blue of the fire's center around him, close to his skin, feeding on him; the orange of its edges flickering in the air, warping the world; the black of it all fading away suddenly, extinguished as his body and mind finally gave.

In all honesty, he didn't expect to wake up.

A hand shook his shoulder as a voice called out to him from far away. Cardin tried to blink, but he felt disconnected from his body. The only thing that truly let him know he was the was the weight against his back– it pinned him to the earth, let him focus on something other than just how hollowed out he felt. He breathed there with his eyes closed, in out, in out. The hollowed feeling remained, but whatever pain caused him to pass out drained out his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw were his fingers. Stained by dirt, blackened by soot, and completely unharmed. What? He tried to move but couldn't. The weight on his back failed to shift. The attempt to move seemed to catch someone's attention, though.

A choked cry, and the voice finally registered. "Cardin." Jaune.

With a great effort, he moved to see Jaune. To make sure he was okay. His hands left smudges of ash against tear stained cheeks. "Were you hurt?"

Jaune's face morphed into pained incredulity. His hands came up to cup the ones against his face. "Aren't you my bully? You're not to- to fucking-" A harsh sound came from Jaune's throat. A cry? A laugh? "You're not supposed to fucking do that."

"You wouldn't've moved fast enough," Cardin said.

This one was definitely a laugh. Wet, very wet, but a laugh. "Thank you."

Cardin shrugged and looked down. He jolted the second he did. The lack of clothes barely registered against the lack of scars. Every wound he'd ever gotten, that he tried his best to take care of, that ultimately ended up as a marked reminder of his failure, gone. He desperately turned his head to try and see if the ones littering his back were gone, too, and got a face full of wings for his trouble. That jolted him worse than the scars had. Panic clenched a vice grip around his heart. Where had those come from? He remembered ripping, and pulling, where scars rested all of his life across his shoulder blades. Were those attached? Experimentally, he took a handful of feathers and pulled hard. Pain crisscrossed against his senses in foreign ways, lighting up foreign limbs and exploding across his spine and down familiar ones, when several ripped out. There were feathers, lightly crumpled, between his fingers, in a red similar to his hair with two golden ones among them, and the pounding of his heart was nothing to do with the lingering pain or the bits of blood that dripped from the feathers' hollow shaft. These were his feathers; these were his wings. It was very, very rare for Cardin to curse.

He swore: quiet, shakey, full of disbelief despite the damning evidence. A hand touched his arm and despite its gentle touch, he flinched harder than he ever did. The hand moved down, gentle fingers pried the bloodied feathers from his grip. He stared dumbly at the feathers as they were placed on the ground. Continued to stare dumbly at them. Those had been attached to him. On limbs sprouting from his back that felt large and weighty and wrong wrong wrong. Cardin buried his head in his hands and pulled at the short locks of hair that fell into his eyes. It wasn't like he still disliked the faunus. He grew past his father's hateful words over the past months at Beacon.

But that— He wasn't— He couldn't be. This was too much. A hand touched his knee and he flinched away again, hard. Hard enough that he felt it connect with something before he heard the hiss. He peaked past his fingers to see Jaune's hands against his forehead. That must be what his knee connected with.

"Shit, Cardin," Jaune groaned. Cardin didn't say anything back, just curled his legs in close to his chest. The weight of the wings at his back nearly toppled him when he did. It sent a shot of something through him, fear or anxiety or maybe a damning wrongness. He's not stupid– he knows the scars means the wings were originally there, that they were taken before he could remember. There were stories Lazuli and Simin told Russel and him growing up about birds who would be set on fire by the sun to be made new. He swallows. What were those based on?

He thinks he may have an idea.

"Are you okay?" Jaune asks, no longer holding his head but staring warily at Cardin's knees.

"I don't know," Cardin answers truthfully. How should you feel when you suddenly learn in one of the weirdest and worst ways that you are one of the things that you were taught to hate? How do you react when you learn something like this was taken from you? Cardin rests his head on his knees. The wings on his back fold in and dip without him thinking about it, seemingly already in tune with emotions they shouldn't yet know.

He goes to Velvet that night, because he doesn't know what else to do but go to team CFVY's dorm room and hope that his older sister is there. He hasn't talked to Jaune since they got back, he's barely spoken to his team outside Russel, he's avoided Professor Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch at every turn. When Velvet opens the door, her eyes widen. There are questions on her lips, but they don't fall yet. Instead she steps to the side and lets him in. There is no one else in the dorm room. For that, he's happy. It means no one else to ask questions and no one else to see him struggle to get in the door, the edge of his one wing clipping the frame painfully despite them all being large enough for a winged faunus student to enter.

Her grace only lasts for as long as the door is open.

"You're a-" Velvet doesn't finish the question, but Cardin's shoulders draw in and his wings flatten to his back with the action. Her eyes follow the movement. He tilts his head and gives half of a nod.

"Were they cut off?" Velvet asks quietly.

Cardin shrugs. He supposes, it would make the most sense, but he has no clue what that might've meant. Did his father take a saw to his crying infant's back? Did his father force the doctors to sedate him and surgically remove them? He doesn't really want to know. It's enough to have them back. That's all the weight he can handle. Velvet nods like she understands all of it, despite not a word being spoken.

She sits with him for the rest of the night, just the two of them in the room until Russel shows up and the three of them deal together with a hurdle he never considered– how to sleep with wings. More, how to sleep with two other people wrapped around you with wings. It takes several minutes of maneuvering until Cardin ends up on his side with Russel in front of him, one wing under him and the other wing draped over him like a blanket, and Velvet behind him between the space where the wings now were.

#whumptober2023 #no.5 #body modification #altprompt #rwby #fic #gore #body horror #fire #archester #cardin winchester #jaune arc #writings #whumptober

5 notes · View notes

fe-fictions · 10 months

Note

Do you have any stories left for the Archest of Archers? I need more Virion/Robin in my life

(How about the Kissed By Another prompt...but in reverse!!!! This is such a good story, I can't believe I had posted it sooner!)

It was always whispered behind your backs, but you and Virion knew that people kept talking.

He was still flirtatious, and he would let a pick-up line slip here and there, but you didn’t mind it. Virion promised he wasn’t going anywhere. He would always rein his behavior in when you expressed concern.

But you knew his personality. You would feel terrible if he changed things about himself just to please you. It wouldn’t be healthy or fair.

So you trusted him, and you ignored what others said. You weren’t worried, and you weren’t offended. However, that all came to a stop one fateful day.

“Do you think that everything will truly go back to normal once this war ends?” virion asked you, the two of you working away in the armory and polishing the various blades and lances that Frederick had assigned you both.

You tilted your head, curious what was running through Virion’s mind.

“I would assume so, yes.”

“Well, the problem for me is that…my normal would be returning home to Rosanne. It is across the sea, amour. Would be comfortable leaving your friends behind?”

“Hmm.” You paused your work, “I don’t know. That’s a hard question.”

“I worry you would be anxious having to live in a new place. You would not have much support, and that would be uncomfortable, non?”

“It wouldn’t be ideal, but you know that you’re all I need, right?” You responded with a soft smile, “Where you go, I go. I can write letters and visit everyone else. Chrom will be the least happy about it, but he’ll get over it. He’s a tough kid.”

“I am so happy to hear you say so, mon ange.” Virion beamed at you, “You are so brave, and so beautiful, and so very perfect in every possible way…ah, but I have been so blessed by the gods with such a wonderful woman.”

“You can just say ‘I’m glad to hear it’.” You giggled.

Virion laughed. “Ah, but where would the fun in that be?”

He grinned at you, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. You broke apart just as the tent flap opened, and Virion was called by Ricken for some important task.

“I’ll be back soon, amour. Leave some polishing for me, hm?”

“I will.” You beamed at him, watching him leave with his usual flourish. You shook your head when he bowed dramatically to you. You had married quite the theater man, which you realized fairly early into your marriage.

You reflected happily on your relationship, humming while the polishing continued. You finished two more lances before the tent opened again.

“Welcome back-”

“Thank you, Tactician.”

You started when a voice that wasn’t your husband’s hit your ears, and you looked up to find a soldier, a Myrmidon, entering the armory.

“Oh, forgive me- I mistook you for my husband.” You told the man with an embarrassed chuckle.

“No matter. I was actually looking for you, hoping I could have an audience alone with you.”

“Is there something I can help you with? Is there a problem with your formation or your partner? I’d be happy to reassign you if that were the case.”

“None of that. It’s nothing to do with battle. Rather, this is something a bit personal.”

“All right…” You didn’t like how strange his request was. You had no idea what to do with this- Frederick had mentioned something about chain of command before. This man had to be breaking some sort of rule.

“I’ve learned something about your husband, ma’am. It could damage his reputation, and yours…which in turn would cause harm to Lord Chrom.”

“What sort of information do you have on Virion, of all people? I know him pretty well. He’s never done anything to make me suspect otherwise.”

“Even with his excessive romantic behavior?”

“If that’s the sort of information you have, then no, I’m not worried at all.” You said with a deep frown, “If this is some sort of sick joke, I’m not laughing.”

“It’s not like that. It’s serious.” He held out a piece of paper that had all sorts of scribblings on it, but you chiefly recognized Virion’s name, and the Valmese Kingdom among the lines of text.

“Virion is from Rosanne- it’s close to Valm. Why is this important?”

“You don’t know enough about Valm to understand how serious this is, ma’am. The Valmese aren’t our friends. They’re allied with Plegia. Supplying weapons and funding them so they can win the war.”

That didn’t sound good. Virion’s name attached to it sounded worse.

“What does that have to do with Virion?”

“He’s helping facilitate the transactions through his connections in Rosanne; an ally of Valm.”

The blood turned to ice in your veins.

Virion? A traitor?

“If word were to get out that there’s a traitor in our ranks, it would undermine the entire army. No one would trust anyone. You’re married to the man- you think anyone would do as you say, knowing you’re connected to a rat?”

“Virion’s no rat! He would never betray his friends, let alone Ylisse!” You protested so passionately, the strange soldier was taken aback. His surprise was soon replaced with a smirk.

“This is what I was afraid of. You’re more than willing to go to bat for him, but that’s a problem. We have to make sure this is properly investigated before anyone’s name is cleared. Your word is nothing unless there’s proof. Right now, the evidence is stacked against him.”

You bit your lip, frustrated into silence and confusion. He was right.

“So, I thought I should come to you first with this information.”

“I see. But until I can verify any of-”

“Ah-ah. Not so fast. You’re not going to be investigating any of this. You’re far too close. That, and I’m concerned you’ll try and tell someone about what’s going on. We can’t have that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that if you try and tell anyone about what you found out today, I can make sure that everyone knows your husband is a traitor, and you’re his right hand who’s helping him every step of the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“Breathe a word and I end the game before it starts. But if you keep quiet and do as I say, then Virion and you will be just fine.”

“You want to blackmail me?” You seethed, “What in the gods’ names is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing at all. But you have to give me what I want.”

“Which is?”

“A kiss.”

You were pretty sure you didn’t hear that right.

“…What did you just say?”

“I want a kiss from the Chief Tactician, Ylisse’s most beautiful woman.” He said with a toothy grin, leaning closer. “You’ll do it, won’t you? You wouldn’t want your husband’s reputation destroyed. Just think of the way you’ll be outcast, treated like enemies of the state…you’d be imprisoned for treason.”

You glared daggers straight into that man’s soul. He was truly a disgusting creature.

“That’s all you want, huh? Just a kiss?”

“I couldn’t ask for more.” He assured you, leaning even closer. You wanted to vomit. “Just remember, all of this stays between us. A word of it gets out, and you’ll both regret it.”

“Fine.” You hissed. You grabbed the man’s collar without another thought, and smashed your mouths together. It was the absolute least pleasant kiss you could have ever given to anyone, and every second it lasted you felt a part of yourself die inside.

You weren’t the only one.

“Robin.”

You practically shoved the man off, gasping when Virion’s voice hit your ears. He was rooted to the spot as he stared at you.

At the man whose mouth had just been on yours. On his wife’s.

His Robin.

Though…you weren’t really his, were you?

Your mouth fell open, stumbling to explain yourself, but you stopped short. You felt the soldier’s eye on you, heard the paper with the damning evidence crinkle in his hand.

You couldn’t say anything.

“What…what is this?”

Oh, his voice. He sounded so shocked. So hurt.

“Virion, i-it’s not…”

“Oh, it is.”

You swiveled around to look at the man whose grin was filled with pegasus dung. He was enjoying this.

“My…apologies.” Virion’s hand faltered from the canvas. He looked away.

“Virion-”

“I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He was gone.

————————-

The following hours were a blur. You didn’t remember the Myrmidon disappearing, but you were alone and couldn’t see past your tears.

You tried to find Virion, running all around the camp and calling for him. No one had seen him. Maribelle thought she’d seen him rush from the armory, but there was no clear indicator where he went.

So you waited in your tent. Your shared tent. You sat on your cot, feeling overwhelmed with all sorts of feelings you couldn’t process.

You wanted to know why the man wanted your kiss in exchange for Virion’s protection. Why did that matter? What was he really after??

Yo were so muddled up with thoughts, but the one that kept twisting up your heart was Virion. Every time his face flashed in your mind, you wanted to curl up and die. His eyes were devoid of love. They were so full of pain.

You weren’t willing to test that man’s threat, saying that he had ways of finding out if you’ve kept quiet or not.

It was a threat you weren’t willing to test. You had a terrible feeling that Virion was in danger. You just wanted to tell him that much.

So it was surprising when, long after the sky turned dark, that Virion stepped into the tent. It took him all of two seconds to realize you were there, and his eyes locked with yours. His hand clenched on the fabric, but he closed it just the same.

He looked away from you the quickest he could.

“You’re here.”

“I am.” You confirmed with a weak nod. The air was so thick with tension it was suffocating.

How were you supposed to explain kissing another man in front of your husband? Let alone without being able to say the real reason?

Virion broke the silence, first With a quiet laugh. A bitter, cold laugh.

“You know, it is quite funny. Everyone always said that I would betray your trust. That I would hurt you, that you deserved better than a filthy old tramp, like me.” His words became chilled. “I never thought it would be the other way around.”

“Virion-”

“Non, Robin.” He stopped you fiercely, and you forgot how to breathe.

He hadn’t called you by your name like that, before. So filled with anger, and hurt.

“I think we can both agree you have done more than enough.” He was falling apart. “I have always…been willing to do what you asked, Robin. If I ever hurt you, or made you worry- I told you to stop me. I would change for you in a heartbeat. A heartbeat! Yet it was not enough, was it?”

You couldn’t even respond. You were shellshocked by the words coming out of his mouth. By the betrayal in his eyes.

“Was I ever enough for you? Did you ever even- was this a marriage of convenience? All this time, hiding a secret lover, going behind my back and betraying my trust and my love for you because you never felt the same? Yet you didn’t have the courage- the love enough to tell me the truth?”

You were both crying.

Virion swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “Robin…I trusted you, with my whole heart. I was willing to commit to you. I do not want to know how long this has…I do not want your reasons. I only wish you told me, before. It could have saved us both the trouble of heartbreak.”

He pulled at his glove, and you feared he would discard his ring. The one that matched yours, that weighed so painfully on your finger.

“Virion…please let me say something.”

“What can you say?” He barked out a laugh, “You honestly think I can find any explanation you had for me believable at all? I heard your words! ‘That’s all you want? Just a kiss’?”

Oh.

“‘All of this stays between us’?? Your secret romance you had the gall to sneak about in broad daylight? When you knew I was coming back?? Ha!!”

He shook his head, his hand falling to his side.

“…Ha.”

“I…” Your hands were quaking in your lap. Your heartbeat was deafening in your ears, but you couldn’t bear it. “Can’t say much.”

Virion looked down at you, expression cold and unmoving.

“But I need you to trust me.”

His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe the words you spoke.

“Do you really think that I could do that to you?” You asked him softly, “Without reason?”

He looked away. “Does that matter? I know what I saw. This isn’t some trick or misunderstanding- that was deliberate.”

“It was.” You confirmed, standing on your feet now that your legs had stopped shaking. He looked to you again. More hurt. “But there’s more to it. I promise you, I-I just can’t…I can’t explain. So…please, trust me.”

You grabbed your knapsack from the foot of the cot. You slung it over your shoulder, brushing past your husband.

“I’m not going to force you to be here with me. I’ve got things I need to do. So please, just…don’t fall apart just yet. Don’t quit on me.”

It was all Virion could do to let you leave.

The moment he was alone, in the silence of his broken home, that he sank to the ground. He was a mess.

————————-

The days that followed were uncomfortable and strange for Virion.

It was clear he was off, but if someone asked what was wrong he wouldn’t answer. He found out that you disappeared the next morning. You left a letter to Chrom telling him you would be back soon.

The prince sent out a search party for you when you didn’t return the next day. Two nights in a row, Virion was alone.

On the third day, Chrom called for Virion’s audience. He was in the council tent, and he had a man bound in a chair, covered in bruises.

The man you kissed.

The man Virion immediately punched.

“Hold on a second, don’t do that!” Chrom grabbed Virion’s arm.

“I appreciate you doing this for me, but I’m perfectly capable of beating this man down, myself.” He growled, trying to push past to get another hit in.

“I didn’t do this. Neither did Frederick.” The lieutenant, who intended to hold Virion back, stepped forward.

“This man is involved in a plot to undermine the Ylissean Army. He was going to use you to do so.”

“Me?” Virion’s brow furrowed.

“Robin found evidence this man was planning a coup. He blackmailed her with ‘evidence’ that you were working with the Valmese. Your background from Rosanne left weakness in your credibility. In order to protect you, Robin started this investigation.”

He was floored.

The Archest of Archers didn’t know what to think. His head was swimming, his heart was pounding, and it was all he could do to stare at Chrom. The prince gave Virion a letter that was covered in your handwriting.

His fingers quivered with every word he read.

“There is a small squadron of men who are working against the army. A Myrmidon from the 16th platoon has organized a team of soldiers, all tied to Valm in some way. I’ve discovered a hidden base of operations; a fort 11 miles west of our campsite. I will be back within a fortnite, this matter put to rest.”

“Eleven miles west…?” Virion’s brow furrowed, looking to Chrom. “S-she has gone alone? Is she engaging with these men??”

“Considering she sent this one back to us in this state…I wouldn’t doubt it.” Chrom gestured to the man Virion was contemplating punching again.

“When will she return?”

“We don’t know. Miriel is working with Tharja to pinpoint her exact location, and Cordelia is scouting the west for the fort. As soon as we get everything we need, we’re going after her. We wanted to know if you would join us.”

“Yes.”

Virion’s heart was soaring. Surging.

“Very well. We’ll send for you as soon as we’re ready to leave. Until then, we have a few more questions for this man.”

It was Chrom who eventually had to push him out of the tent to keep him from “assisting” with the interrogation. As soon as he was out, though, he was rushing back to his tent. Your tent. Your home.

He had never readied for battle so quickly. The ring on his hand burned as his blood did. He paced the tent, back and forth, ready to leave immediately.

He needed to bring you home.

He needed to apologize. Tell you he loved you. That he was so unbelievably lucky to have someone willing to risk everything, even his trust, to protect him. You did that for him.

His resolve to marry you all over again quickly dissipated when Miriel came to his tent, breathlessly informing him you returned.

You were in the infirmary.

————————-

It was mere hours after Virion had started pacing in his tent that you had come back. He sprinted across camp.

He raced past Chrom and Frederick, who had made it to the healing tent just before he did, but he wasn’t letting anyone get to you first..

“Whoa-” Chrom didn’t even realize the blue blur was Virion until Frederick put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him short of following.

“We should give them some time. He was clearly worried.” Frederick suggested. Chrom couldn’t agree more. Especially after Libra stepped out with a blush on his cheeks.

Best to give them some time.

Virion burst into the tent without hesitation. He found you, sitting up in your cot, plasters and bandages wrapped around various parts of your body.

Yet you looked calm, unmoved by the pain stinging your skin.

“Robin,” Virion gasped. You snapped up to look at him, finding the man crossing the tent to your bedside.

“Virion…I-!” He engulfed you in his embrace before you could even apologize. He fell onto the cot, hugging you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

“Mon amour.”

Oh.

“Mon coeur, ma femme, mon Robin parfait et bien-aimé…” He squeezed you closer, his voice trembling when he felt the tears wet his tunic. “I am so very sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You sounded almost jovial. It was enough to make Virion pull back to look at you, finding the tears in your eyes enough to make his spill over.

“Because I did not listen to my heart.” He grimaced, wiping at the tears that slipped down your cheeks. “I knew…I knew that you would never betray me. I trust you with my life, yet I…I should not have said any of those terrible things to you. I must have hurt you so much.”

“Virion, you watched me kiss another man.” You reminded him (somewhat bitterly). “You had every right to say those things.”

“Not to you.” He cupped your cheek, his expression twisted with regret. “Not to the woman who risked everything to protect a foolish man like me.”

“You’re not foolish.” You whispered, pressing into his palm. “You’re intelligent, and strong, and kind, and you’re the man I love. Don’t ever question that.”

“Never.” He kissed you, deeply, his hand sliding from your cheek to your neck, pulling you into him as much as he could.

This was what he wanted. Holding his wife as close as possible, lips parting only long enough to draw a breath before kissing you senseless again.

He wished to erase the bitter taste of that man’s lips. The disgusting ploy to undermine his trust in you, to destroy his marriage so Virion himself would be an easier target…

The two of you lost track of time, then, hugging each other and comforting one another for all you were worth.

You later learned the Myrmidon in question wasn’t just trying to undermine the army. He had a personal vendetta. A man from Rosanne, seeking revenge for allegedly destroying his home with his lack of leadership.

You didn’t believe a word of it; you knew there were problems in Virion’s past, but never would he actively destroy another man. He wasn’t capable of it, let alone so that a man would try to end his marriage and his army.

It only confirmed the truth you already decided upon. You were returning to Rosanne with him, to help repair the land that had fallen apart in his absence. No matter how hostile or poor the state of affairs, you weren’t leaving his side.

It just confirmed for Virion you were absolutely the one he needed.

You lost count of the kisses he drowned you in, the night you returned to your tent. He made it clear that you were trusted, loved, and he would never question that ever again. Though to be on the safe side, you promised you wouldn’t kiss anyone else, no matter how dire the circumstances.

He promised in return to give you plenty of kisses so you’d get your fill. As if you could ever possibly get enough.

#virion #robin #fe 13 #fe awakening #fire emblem awakening #virion x robin #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #f!mu #kissed by another #angst #hurt and comfort #God i love hurting this man so much #i think some of my fluffiest and angstiest pieces are for virion #idk what it is abt the flirty arrogant weirdo becoming a loyal loving husband but that just DOES SOMETHING to my HEART

20 notes · View notes

idontknowwhattocallthisanymore · 4 years

Text

Jaune blinked at him- more specifically probably the thick beard that'd sprung up since he'd last seen him two days ago- and Cardin sighed heavily, fingers pushing up his glasses so he could punch the bridge of his nose. "I know," Cardin said. "I need to shave. Badly."

"Wha- no." Jaune swallowed and shook his head. "It looks really good."

Cardin blinked. "What?"

"I mean- I-" Jaune faltered. Pink rose to his cheeks. "It, uh, objectively, it looks really handsome on you. Objectively!"

"Oh." Cardin's eyes had widened slightly at Jaune's words as he badly stumbled through them. He could feel heat on his own face. And ears. "... thank you."

"You'r- you're welcome," Jaune said with a shy smile. And Cardin returned it. For a few seconds they just stood there. Almost in a trance. Then Jaune suddenly seemed to snap out of it. "Anyway I gotta go!" Jaune said quickly, rushing out. "Things to do, people to save! Bye!"

"Take care, Arc!" Cardin called after him. As he turned to go find his own team he absently ran his fingers up through the beard. Maybe he'd have to keep it just a bit longer this time.

#cardin winchester #jaune arc #archester #rwby #jaune/cardin #jaune x cardin #listen ive been writing a lot of angst for my writing/art blog #and this just kinda came to me randomly #as i remembered that my cardin is a hairy hairy boy #in that he grows hair quickly #this kid grows hair like its a speed run #hes gotta shave every morning or hes got a baby beard by nighttime #older au #snippets

8 notes · View notes

love-fireflysong · 4 years

Text

Day 12: Drink

Fandom: Tales of Phantasia Character(s): Cress Albane, Mint Adenade, Chester Burklight, Arche Klein, Claus F. Lester, Suzu Fujibayashi Words: 4615 Rating: Teen (Alcohol, Major Character Death) Author’s Notes: Not all Until Dawn this week baby, gotta mix it up a little! That being said, this one is an idea I’ve had stewing in my head for close to six years now, ever since I first discovered these characters in Tales of Graces and read the plot outline online. So enjoy!

Taryon Voss had been running the Euclid Inn and Tavern for close to thirty years now, his mother the fifty before that, and her father was the one to take it over from the Nerim family before she had been born. So to say that this building was the family’s pride and joy won’t be too off the mark. It had been his home, his first and only job, and he, like the rest of the family, had put his blood, sweat, and tears into making it the town center that it was.

Because of that, Taryon knew every single person in town, so when two blond haired kids wandered in asking for where they could find one Claus F. Lester, it had been a shock. Not because he didn’t know Claus, everyone knew of that eccentric coot, but because he didn’t recognize the kids asking. Now, he knew that people from nearby Belladam Village and Hamel tended to stop here to buy and trade goods, but these kids were different. They just didn’t look right.

The boy was wearing some armor; dented, scuffed, and bloody from the beasts they would have had to battle outside the village to make it here, and his red cape was slightly torn at the bottom edge. The girl meanwhile, was wearing white robes stained with blood, dirt, and grass, and on the front of the robe was a sigil he had never seen before. Both were tired and refused rooms when he offered, insistent that they meet Claus. Knowing that they would be back soon anyway, Taryon had given them directions to Claus’s house in the north and went back to work.

To his surprise, not only did they show up much later in the evening then he would have expected, but it was with Claus in tow. Claus almost never came into the tavern, he tended to stay shut up in his own house with his books and Milard. Instead, he got found the three of them a table and he flagged down one of the waitresses (Taryon’s daughter Vivian) and ordered three flagons of ale for them. Taryon never heard any of the conversation, spoke in hushed tones, though he did catch the word’s ‘Lone Valley’ and ‘spirit’ once or twice. But after the three of them had finished their drinks and a promise to meet up in the morning, the two kids payed for a room for the night and that was the end of it.

The kids left the next morning bright and early and he never saw Claus after that either, but that wasn’t so unusual. As mentioned before, the man was a recluse of sorts and a known nutjob, always going on and on about how humans could use magic if only we could make pacts with the spirits. Crazy talk obviously, everyone knew that only elves and half-elves could use magic.

He saw the kids again though, not long after the news had reached Euclid that the Kingdom of Midgards had managed to beat back Dhaos’s army. They came in just as scuffed and bloody as the first time, though this time they were accompanied by a just as tired looking and scratched Claus, and a young half-elf with the pinkest hair he had ever seen. Bringing them a round of drinks, and quite a few more for the half-elf as the night went one, they were joined by Mirald who sat with them and stole Claus’s own mug of ale.

The five of them spent the evening laughing and drinking with abandon, Milard and Claus acting like they hadn’t seen each other in weeks and the half-elf hanging off the blond boys arm, though he looked mighty uncomfortable about it. As the sky grew darker and the night chillier, he had had to let them know that if they were getting rooms to buy them now, otherwise he was closing for the night. The three younger ones paid for a room, the two blonde’s helping to carry their half-elf friend who was three sheets to the wind to bed, and Claus and Milard returned to their own home.

Taryon never saw the blonde kids again after that morning when they left. A week or so later, Claus wandered back in with the half-elf, Milard behind not far behind. They had ordered a round of drinks and sat down to just talk. About three or so drinks in, the half-elf just put her face down on the table and started bawling, the other two trying to help calm her down but doing little. Finally, they pay for their drinks and leave, taking the half-elf with them as they promise her a bed in their house for the night and she can leave to go see her father in the morning.

When he goes to clean the table off after they leave, he finds that they had left three flagons of ale and, curiously enough, a glass of chocolate milk undrank. After grumbling under his breath about wasteful customers, he cleans the table and puts the night, and kids, behind him.

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

Vivian, or Vivi as her friends know her, loves her inn and bar very much. Or at least, her inn and brother’s bar, but everyone knows that she owns both and that her old man was just being stubborn in not giving it to her. Even Kendrick knows that, leaving the management of both to her and her wife Bianca, while he works on getting the the plans for the new inn built and designed.

She thinks she’s better at this then her old man ever was. He wasn’t the most personable sort of man, and she can butter anyone up in a heartbeat. Take Arche for example. The half-elf had been a regular here for years now, coming in every second Friday, often dragging Claus and sometimes Milard in with her. Arche had what most people would call a bubbly personality, and the rest annoying and childish. It was infectious really, anyone drinking with her would often be laughing by the end of the night. And if they were really, really lucky, would find themselves a little less lonely that night as well.

Vivi had been that person once or twice herself, before she met Bianca of course. Not that she hadn’t tried to push it further, but enough time with Arche had taught her that while the half-elf was all for fooling around, she wasn’t looking for anything serious.

She had learned too that there was one night a year where Arche and Claus would get a table alone. No Milard, no kids, nothing. On these nights they would order the same round of drinks once: five ales and a glass of chocolate milk. The two of them would seemingly reminisce over some important part of their life that was never explained, and leave after finishing a mug each. Leaving three full ales and that glass of milk.

Her old man had hated it. Tried to refuse them the service for not finishing their meal, but Vivi didn’t mind so much. It was obviously very important to them, and they always paid extra on those nights anyway.

As the years went on and Vivi got older, so too did Claus and Milard and their own kids, but Arche never did. Most times she would play this off, a little joke about wrinkles, one about old man stench that had Claus rolling in his seat, but it was obvious that it got to her. The week after her father died, she came in with Claus sobbing about how she didn’t want to lose anyone else, that it wasn’t fair. She hated the fact that she was going to outlive him, and Milard and all their kids and grandkids. Hated that she was going to outlive the others too after waiting so long to see them again.

Vivi never did find out who these others were.

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

Jon was only 23 when he took over the Euclid Inn and Tavern, and his Aunt Vivi only 56 when she handed it to him. She was still as spry and quick with a wink as she had been ten years ago, but had told him that with the new Inn opening, it was time for new management. She would go out with the building built of logs, and he would come in with the foundations of stone and marble beneath him.

He was nervous though, why wouldn’t he be? Euclid was a bustling city of trade and commerce, the capital of the kingdom, and he was supposed to run the inn of it’s name and somehow not burn everything his family had built to the ground? It was a lot to say the least.

Thankfully, he did have the regulars to help him out. They had been around for years and knew how things were done almost better then he did. The Bardin twins had been coming around since before he was born, and while they showed up less and less, Arche and old man Lester were a common sight. Still, no matter the weather, or how old Claus got, the two of them would always show up for their round of drinks. They would find their table of six, place their drinks in each spot, and just talk and talk and talk.

Jon had been worried about the cost once, the inn was still so new in its new stone home, and he didn’t think he could afford the wasted drink. Aunt Vivi had cuffed him for that. It’s a small thing, she had told him. Makes them happy and they always pay double for it. Whats a little bit of ale you have to toss for happy, returning customers. And anyway, it wasn’t like they did this every night, it was only once a year and he could swallow the cost.

He could tell when old man Lester died, not from Arche splayed over the table weeping, but from the six drinks in front of her, and only one being drank out of.

He had figured that to be the end of it, maybe the last time he saw their bubblegum pink half-elf but she continued to come around. Every second Friday as she had when Aunt Vivi had run the place, a drink or two or seven in hand and sometimes joined by another person. She never brought anyone in with her, sometimes someone would just be brave enough to sit down at the table with her. Most times, she would allow this, a smile of her face and laugh in her voice.

But she also still continued the six drink ritual, even though she was the only one now. Paid triple the price too for it now. No one was allowed to join her those nights. Someone did try once or twice, decades separating the incident, and they had ended up on the floor with a broken nose and a screaming half-elf above them.

Those Friday nights were the best though, she would ask him about Judy, if the pregnancy was coming along alright, how were the twins holding up once they had been born (a pair of rascals as one would expect). Jon had asked her once about the strange little tradition. Her face had fallen a little and though she smiled, it was pained and he felt like he was intruding on a secret and was about to apologize when she told him that she was just waiting for some friends to show up.

Considering the fact that they never once showed up, he thinks she deserves some better friends.

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

Basil and Saffron had always done everything together. They were born together, played together, and now ran the inn and tavern together. It was a 50/50 split though, as everything had been for them. No more, no less.

One night, Basil would run the inn side of the business, and Saffron the tavern. The next, they would switch. Saffron serving drinks while Basil made the beds. It was an odd system to be sure, but they made it work.

Some of the regulars would joke that they were in the wrong career, with names like theirs they should have gone into cooking or gardening, or running one of the grocery stores in the area. They would laugh of course, but the laughs would be slightly forced. This place was theirs, had always been theirs. They couldn’t think of a single thing they would rather be doing.

Miss Arche liked their names though. The first time she had met them, she had laughed when she found out. Not at them though, she had promised at their scowls. She had a couple of friends with names like theirs: Mint and Cress. That had perked them right up. They had asked if they could meet them, surely friends of Miss Arche would be super polite and friendly, just like she was. The smile had tightened though, and said that she wouldn’t be seeing them for a very, very long time still.

Miss Arche was one of their favourite customers.

She still came in every second Friday, just like she had for their father, and Great-Aunt Vivi, and even Great-Great Granddad Taryon. She was their longest and most loyal customer. And still looked not a day over 20 when she was close to a 100 by now. Perks of being half-elf she had winked at them, or more at Basil who had blushed profusely. Said that it came with few upsides, like being able to use magic and fly, but it got lonely sometimes.

Both of them agreed that Miss Arche shouldn’t be lonely so whenever she came in, one of them would pull double duty for the evening while the other sat with her and talked. They think she appreciated it, if they way she always lit up when one of them came over to her was any indication. They couldn’t sit with her all the time of course, but they tried whenever they could.

They knew not to sit with her on her Six-Drink nights though. Basil had tried though, just the once. He had walked up to her with her order of five ales and a chocolate milk and tried to sit down, but she had stopped him dead in his tracks. No anger on her face though. Just sadness. They learnt then that this was a night just for her, no one else.

They both apologized the next time Miss Arche came in, but she had brushed them off. Told them not to worry about it, and that they were welcome to join her any other night, just not that one. That night was special, it was for her to remember the past, and to dream of the future. Only five other people would ever be allowed to sit with her on those nights, and while she adored the two of them, they weren’t the right herbs.

Saffron understood then that she meant Mint, and Basil, Cress. Once again, they asked when she thought they would be by. She had laughed sadly at that, and told them that if they were lucky and lived for a very long time, that they might get to meet them one day.

Saffron died the month before Mint was born. Basil followed her shortly a year later. They never knew how close they had been to meeting who they considered to be their own personal heroes.

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

Angela Voss remembered very well the party that the Klein girl had thrown one year. And the second and third barely a year after that. It had been chaos, pure and simple. The night had been quiet, peaceful even considering that she ran the oldest inn and tavern in Euclid. And then Klein had burst through the door, broom over her shoulder, and declared in a loud voice that all drinks that night were on her.

Angela had watched agog as she pulled a purse filled with gald out of nowhere and tossed it on the table. The rest of the night had been chaos, absolute chaos. She even ran out of ale that night and had send Henry to the next tavern over for more alcohol. At the end of the night, the area smelling more of ale than usual, she found Klein not quite passed out and crying at a table completely covered in empty mugs. Except, of course, for the four still completely full and the glass of chocolate milk. That must have been Henry, he was too soft on the half-elf by far, though it was far too early in the year for her wasteful tradition.

Klein was murmuring something under her breath. Something about how she was so close now, that she was tired of waiting. For them to just get their butts over here already. That she missed them. Angela just poked her with the handle of the mop and told her that she either had to get a room, or get out.

Unlike her mother and dear uncle, Klein was decidedly her least favourite customer.

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

Henry didn’t own the bar yet, that was true, his mother was still alive and kicking after all, but he had taken it upon himself to at least try to run it. He loved his mother dearly, but it was a well-known fact that Angela Voss was more demon then angel, and him being the face of the tavern was helping to draw in new faces.

Like the family he was greeting now. A merchant family, all four of them with hair as blue as they sky outside, had come to bring a new shipment of ale for the tavern and cloth for the inn. The Burklight’s, as they had introduced themselves, paid for a couple of rooms at the inn while their son looked around the room, his hand clutching tight to his little sisters. He saw Arche pass through with a wave to the tavern side of things, it was a second Friday after all, only to stop suddenly. He watched confused as she turned to just stare in horror, and something else he couldn’t quite place, at the little boy. Henry tilted his head to ask if anything was wrong, but she was gone before he could.

He found her shortly after, crying softly with a smile on her face and whispering the word finally under her breath over and over again.

He would see the boy a few times over the years, once or twice with his sister, and often with a blond haired boy carrying a sword. He had once asked if they knew of a half-elf with pink hair, but both had just given him looks of such confusion that he never pried again.

The worst though, was one night. Arche had come in, tears streaming down her face and demanded to be served nothing but alcohol that night and not allowed to leave for anything. She spent the rest of the night at her usual table drowning herself in cup after cup, sobbing that she was sorry. It was all she said that night. Just sorry, over and over again. Even has her words became more slurred and her tears came harder as the night progressed.

He found out the next day that Toltus had been razed and very nearly burnt to the ground. That no one had survived the slaughter.

And then, a week later, she started spending every night at the tavern. She had been there for nearly a month, spirits as high as he had ever seen them, and paying for two rooms at the inn. She spent every single night at her table, the one with six seats, and ordered four ales every night. When asked why, she had simply explained that she was waiting for some friends to join her. He didn’t understand. She had always been waiting for friends, as long as she had been coming to the tavern. But Arche always got five ales and a chocolate milk for those friends. And this was only four.

And then one night, he did understand.

Henry watched as the door to the tavern opened and in walked the blue haired boy with his blond friend, and a cleric with them as well. It had nearly bowled him over to be honest, he had thought they had died in Toltus with the rest. The blue haired archer stood in the back, by the door, eyes scanning the place with a seriousness that surprised Henry as the blond soldier asked if he had seen a half-elf with pink hair around recently.

Before he could even answer, Arche had jumped on the back of the archer and with a yelp both of them had fallen to the ground. The two blond’s had turned and ran towards them, but Arche had already gotten up and had latched herself onto the cleric, sobbing something awful as she grabbed everyone else into a group hug and then dragging them over to her usual table. And watched as all of them grabbed a seat with no hesitation about where to sit, leaving two seats empty as if there was already someone sitting there.

He had been wrong it turned out. He had never seen her this happy. Ever. If her spirits had been high before, then this was astronomical in how cheery she was.

Without any prompting at all, Henry brought over the four ales and the four of them just started talking. Questions were being thrown around relentlessly. They were asking her what she had been up, how was Claus, she asked them how the reconstruction was going. They spent hours, all of them acting like they were seeing an old friend, though Henry had never once seen any of them together in the same room. It was weird.

Weirdest of all had been when Arche had looked over and asked for her Six-Drink special once conversation had started to die down. Confused, he brought it over and set it out. Watched as the cleric, who was the closest to one of the empty seats, set the chocolate milk there and the archer set the other ale at the empty seat next to him. With that, they made a silent toast, and drank their drinks. No fight from Arche for stealing the drinks like she always did. Instead acting like they had always been meant for them.

Drinks done, the soldier and cleric left the table, his hand on her back, and they both walked to the inn rooms upstairs, leaving only Arche and the archer at the table. Henry caught none of their conversation, foreheads pressed firmly together and speaking under their breaths, but by the way she kept gripping the sleeves of his shirt and he very firmly kept one hand on the back of her neck, he didn’t have to guess very hard.

Soon enough, they too retreated to the rooms upstairs and Henry went to go clear the table. And amongst all the of the empty mugs, he was unsurprised to find one full flagon of ale and a glass of milk.

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

Zephyr didn’t see a whole lot of Arche or Chester or Mint or Cress anymore. The four of them had become a package deal of sorts, where one went it was rare not to find the other three. She remembered back in her younger years, when her father ran the inn and tavern in Euclid, that Arche and the others used to stop by every second Friday. But as the years went on and the others got older, they had come by less and less. Going from the Fridays to once a month to only every couple of months. Arche still came in of course, now more often with kids in tow, and the four of them always made time for their Six-Drink night every year, but they four of them had all but stopped coming when Dhaos started attacking.

She hoped they were alright. Arche was still as spry as when Zephyr had been a child, but the other two were nearing 70 now and it worried her. Sure they knew how to fight, they all did, but still.

She was still deep in her thoughts when the door to the tavern opened. She turned, ready to greet the newcomers, only to have the words die in her throat. In front of her stood Arche who she recognized immediately, but she looked different and Zephyr couldn’t put her finger on why. With her was a man who wore the most ridiculous brown hat she had ever seen and and tattoos all over his face and body, and a young girl who couldn’t have been older then twelve. It was the other three who made her freeze though.

Standing there were Cress, Mint, and Chester looking like for all intents and purposes that they had been plucked straight of time from fifty years ago. There was no slouch in Cress’s shoulders, the cane he needed to walk with was gone. Chester’s hair hadn’t been that bright blue in nearly twenty years. And Mint stood unsure, gripping her staff in her hands, whereas the Mint she knew always stood tall and proud with that matronly smile on her face. Gone were the wrinkles and white hair and liver spots. Instead they stood fresh faced and eager.

Zephyr nearly keeled over from a heart attack at the sight.

The man wearing the hat walked up to her and asked for a couple of rooms for the night, as well as a round of drinks for them. They were celebrating Cress’s win in the arena it seemed. And when he gave his order, she almost dropped her tray. Five ales and a chocolate milk. With that, the six of them walked over and sat at Arche’s table, the one she had been using for nearly a hundred years now, and sat down in the configuration Zephyr had come to know over the years. Cress in the middle of Mint and Chester, Arche sitting across from her husband, and the little girl sitting right where the glass of milk was always placed and the man taking the only other empty seat between Arche and Chester.

They didn’t spend long there before moving to their rooms, But it was enough for Zephyr to convince herself that these were 100% the people she had known for years. Watching them interact was like simultaneously going back in time to when she was a little girl, peeking through her bedroom door at all the people having fun downstairs while her Daddy worked, and to just last month when the four of them had last come in for a visit. It was jarring and it was making her feel dizzy, so she called Norma over and went to go and lay down.

When she emerged a couple of hours later, they were all gone.

She saw the four of them again about a month later, Dhaos dead and gone and his castle destroyed. This time they were looking like they should have been, though the same little girl from earlier, Suzu they would introduce her as, accompanied them. They sat down at their table and ordered the Six-Drink special, and then returned to talking with Suzu like they hadn’t seen her in years.

When they left and Zephyr went to clean up the table, it was with a full mug, untouched and undrank, where the man with the hat had been sitting the month before.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #tales of phantasia #arche klein #claus f lester #suzu fujibayashi #cress albane #mint adenade #chester burklight #archester #cress/mint #claus/milard #canon pairings really #only implied though #god #i cant believe i finished this one #super emotional right now

16 notes · View notes

addc10 · 4 years

Note

Why do you like John Adams so much? Don’t really know anything about the founding fathers

Oh man. I feel like you might regret asking me this question. You don’t know the can of worms you just opened, but I love you for asking this.

John Adams is my favorite person who has become President. It would not be an understatement to say that my life would be fundamentally different had I never learned about him, so hold onto your hats boys. Let me explain.

To talk of Founding Fathers, John Adams is one of the biggest reasons America is even a country to begin with. He was one of the foremost supporter of independence when he served in the Continental Congress, working ardently behind the scenes to push the cause of the revolution. He was the one who offered the resolution that would eventually become the Declaration of Independence and who nominated George Washington (yeah that guy) to be the Commander in Chief of the Continental Army, back when Washington was just another delegate. The committee actually chose Adams to write the Declaration of Independence itself, but he persuaded Jefferson to write it (more on that later). He also secured Dutch funding and helped cement that all important alliance with France that basically helped win the war for America.

Beyond that, Adams wrote the Massachusetts constitution. And I know what you’re saying: “Massachusetts? Who cares about that dumb state?” Let me tell you: the drafters of the US constitution do, because they based the language of fundamental rights and a separation of powers that appeared in the US constitution, on Adams’ words. Oh and yeah, to this day, Massachusetts’ constitution remains the oldest constitution in effect.

Yet, despite all of this, the reason I like John Adams is because of what he did before ever becoming President of the United States. Despite being a supporter of the Revolution since the 1760s, John Adams defended the British soldiers at the Boston Massacre. The Boston Massacre you say? He defended redcoats you say? And we like him? Yes. I do. John Adams believed, more than anything else, that everyone deserved a right to council. So when a mob of colonists isolated and attacked a british soldier, and other soldiers came to his rescue while being pelted with rocks, bottles, and ice, and those soldiers were arrested for murder and no one else would represent them, John Adams risked his entire career and reputation because he believed that everyone was entitled to counsel and a fair trial. The background of my phone is the following quote from him:

“It is more important that innocence be protected than it is that guilt be punished, for guilt and crimes are so frequent in this world that they cannot all be punished. But if innocence itself is brought to the bar and condemned, perhaps to die, then the citizen will say, ‘whether I do good or whether I do evil is immaterial, for innocence itself is no protection,’ and if such an idea as that were to take hold in the mind of the citizen that would be the end of security whatsoever.”

This was just one of the reasons that, as mentioned above, Adams refused to write the Declaration of Independence, and persuaded Thomas Jefferson to instead. Adams was not liked among many colonists and revolutionaries after doing this and he worried that if he put his name on the document, it would not get ratified. So while he privately contributed much of the ideas behind the Declaration and later the Constitution, and even publicly defended it on the floor of the Continental Congress, he was never appropriately recognized for such feats.

And in addition to all of that, John Adams was married to Abigail Adams, famous women’s rights activist and abolitionist, and John Adams regularly exchanged letters with her and listened to her opinions and discussed them. She pushed for women’s education as well as the abolition of slavery, and I feel compelled to point out that the Adams family never owned slaves, being one of the few Founding Fathers who refused (of the first 12 presidents, only 2 did not own slaves: John Adams... and his son). Adams had this to say on the matter:

“I have, through my whole life, held the practice of slavery in such abhorrence that I have never owned a slave, though I have lived for many years in times when the practice was not disgraceful, when the best men in my vicinity thought it not inconsistent with their character, and when it has cost me thousands of dollars for the labor and subsistence of free men, which I might have saved by the purchase of a slave.”

It does not matter the acceptability of an action if you believe it to be immoral. Simply because it is legal or society finds it acceptable, if you do not act in accordance with your moral character, your moral character means very little. John and Abigail Adams refused to own slaves and actually employed free black men (for whom it was difficult to find work).

Their son, the sixth President, John Quincy Adams, was so against slavery he regularly violated Congress rules barring debate over the morals of slavery and it was his 18-year effort that finally did away with this gag rule. He took delight in the fact that he would forever be remembered by southerners as “the acutest, the astutest, the archest enemy of Southern slavery that ever existed.” He represented Africans charged with rebellion on a slave ship (who revolted and killed their captors) and JQ Adams took the case all the way to the US Supreme Court and won, arguing that they were justified in their rebellion and the men were declared free. (US v. Amistad)

John Adams is such an interesting case of everyone overlooking his presidency. He came after George Washington, so perhaps this was destiny. It was his move to put John Marshall on the Supreme Court that literally shaped America as we know it today (every heard of Marbury v. Madison? Judicial review?). John Adams kept us out of our first war, refusing to stir up war fever which ultimately cost him support, and likely lost him the 1800 election (a war which, might I point out, Hamilton wanted, pushed for, and then subsequently sabotaged Adams in public and behind closed doors for avoiding).

I’m not going to argue that Adams wasn’t a bad politician. He was. He even knew that. But the reason John Adams means so much to me isn’t anything to do with his presidency or war effort or devotion to his wife, it is because he defended people when no one else would. Because he believed that everyone had the right to counsel, the right to a fair trial, and that innocence should and must be a sufficient defense.

A sentiment that I think the United States would do well to remember today.

#ask #anon #john adams #hamilton #alexander hamilton #i am in law school right now at least partially because of how hard these words hit me #anyways i have a lot of feelings #sorry this is so long #uspol

65 notes · View notes

supernaturaltropecelebration · 5 years

Text

SPNTC 2019 Master Post

Our inaugural round of the Supernatural Trope Celebration has come to a close! We had so many wonderful authors and artists participating this year and are so proud of the creations they submitted. Please visit these stories and art posts and give them all some love!

Heal My Heart by @navajolovesdestiel, art by @mere-mortifer Link to Fic | Link to Art

Plus One by @cutelittlekittykorner, art by @dmsilvisart Link to Fic | Link to Art

Dreaming With Eyes Wide Open by @dmsilvisart, art by @bihuntersandgayangels Link to Fic | Link to Art

Dancing in the Dark by @cr-noble-writes, art by @cross-roads-blues Link to Fic | Link to Art

The Palace at Versailles by @origin-void, art by @bees0are0awesome Link to Fic | Link to Art

Iceberg Ahead by @silvaxus, art by @writingarchangels Link to Fic | Link to Art 2 3 4 5 6

The Things We Do Not Say by @a-insominia, art by @dmsilvisart Link to Fic | Link to Art

Guardian Angel by @notfunnydean, art by @dmsilvisart Link to Fic | Link to Art

An Angel’s Blade by @imbiowaresbitch, art by @archester-draws Link to Fic | Link to Art

The One Where Castiel Impersonates a Police Officer by @envydean, art by @love-nakamura Link to Fic | Link to Art

She Dreams in Red by @risingphoenix761, art by @samatedeansbroccoli Link to Fic | Link to Art

Talk Dirty to Me by @alleiradayne, art by @mere-mortifer Link to Fic | Link to Art

Metamorphosis by @rizgriz, art by @weldersmightyb Link to Fic | Link to Art

I’m Watching it Burn by @cross-roads-blues, art by @ekkaburst Link to Fic | Link to Art

A Unique Birthday Present by @mrsimoshen, art by @writingarchangels Link to Fic | Link to Art 2

Dancing With the Devil by @rebelminxy, art by @huntress79 Link to Fic | Link to Art

Lost and Found by @sarasaurussex, art by @huntress79 Link to Fic | Link to Art

#spntc #spntc 2019 #supernatural trope celebration #spn trope celebration #master post

219 notes · View notes

kariachi · 4 years

Text

Okay, we’re gonna see how much liveblogging I can get done today. We’re still in full Kevin mode, and we’re starting the day with Heads of the Family. I have minimal idea what to expect, but I love Kevin and I love the Bugg Brothers, so it can’t be bad.

Right?

My love for this show’s music selection continues.

Oh good lords, these people take family reunions seriously. There’s a fucking banner. You can see more people in this frame then there was at my last family reunion in it’s entirety. And that was everybody from this farming family that still lived in the northeast within six generations of relation. Not kidding.I know nix and I play with there being too many fucking Joneses but goddamn there are canonically too many fucking Tennysons!

Just, goddamn.

...Last year Ben and Gwen had a burping contest where Ben won by so much a fucking gazebo collapsed on them and several relatives. I’m not surprised, just concerned

And Aunt Kathy damn near banned them from future reunions. Honestly I can’t blame her. Made Max give her a month’s worth of foot massages to re-earn the right to attend.

They’re bringing the deviled eggs.

That is, a sad amount of deviled eggs for the number of people here.

Nobody is happy to see Ben, which, given last year, not surprising.

...yep, that’s a level of offhand rudeness you only get from relatives.

Honestly I gotta write a fic involving family reunions, that’s shit’s gotta be confusing for an Erinaen like Argit.

(probably Great) Aunt Kathy likes bacon in her deviled eggs. The presence of them was likely planned ahead.

There’s a Sweden branch of the Tennyson family. The representatives shown are Sven and Len. I’m horribly amused. Also Max apparently can’t tell which is which.

...Somebody just showed up given a headcount of nearly 600. What is wrong with these people?!

The headcounter’s name is Alfred. He has pumpkin pie. This earns him a point.

He’s Max’s second cousin. This is a relation I can accept as a family reunion.

Somebody is showing off Max’s baby pictures. Making him out to have been a worse-looking teen than he was though. Doesn’t look good, but I was expecting worse from the characters’ reactions.

Also this is apparently Grandma Rita, which given it’s Max saying that I have to assume she’s either his mother or his grandmother, so Ben & Gwen’s great-grandma or great-great-grandma. Probably great-grandma. Either that, or she’s aged real well, or she and Max’s mom had kids real young.

“I’m gonna get some deviled eggs“ Ben says before being stopped by the realization that there, by the food, is his archest of nemesises, Kevin. Who, given there’s nearly 600 people here, may actually belong. I mean statistically, with this many people just attending the reunion, nonetheless in the family, there’s acceptable odds he’s a cousin of some bent.

Also my son, dual-wielding fried chicken

Gwen, concerned Kevin might be related to them. Max, concerned Ben’s going to do something that gets them banned from the family reunion.

“Don’t do anything rash“ like Ben has ever done something not-rash ever in his life

Boys please. I know you’re both disasters but, for five minutes pretend to have something resembling chill.

Ben: *totally down to kick Kevin’s ass for daring to eat a food* Kevin: *certain he won’t because they’re surrounded by innocent relatives* Ben: *does not care one iota* Gwen: *about to have an aneurysm because holy shit is her cousin trying to get them disowned*

I have to admit, I do enjoy the addition of episodes where Kevin is just existing and it’s Ben who’s starting shit? Having a wide range of hows with regards to the boys getting into fights makes sure that we get some real character depth out of both of them, as well as making sure the episodes don’t get samey and that they can always do something new. They aren’t pigeon-holing themselves.

The boys have left to a less target-rich environment and are now fighting because, again, how dare Kevin come to a Tennyson family reunion and eat the food. And we still don’t have any real evidence he doesn’t belong. I mean he makes that ‘where you got all your weird’ comment, but it’s Kevin, if they were twins he’d say that just to rile Ben up.

Me thinks these boys should’ve gone out a little further. Attract less attention.

...Ben knocks Kevin clear across the fairgrounds, jumps into a dumpster to stay out of sight until he comes back for round 2, finds the Bugg Brothers. Of course.

Ben is just having A Day.

A particle decimator. Okay, cool, but why you guys hiding in a dumpster?

It’s a shrinking ray. The plan is to use it to destabilize the national economy, undermine the government, disrupt social order, and wreak havoc among the entire world population. I feel like Maurice needs to start thinking smaller.

And lo, they were using the wrong device and accidentally switched Heatblast and Maurice’s heads. I’m shocked.

This is gonna be a weird episode from here out isn’t it

Kevin, gonna kick somebody’s ass even if he’s not sure what the fuck is going on

Kevin, rolling with the head swapping thing. Though honestly with some of the shit he’s been through this probably don’t seem too bad

I do like how Maurice made a head-swapping helmet and yet he and Sidney have not swapped heads, despite, well, everything.

Ah, this is presumably the device that swapped their heads in the first place. Cool cool.

My son

So clarify, he’s outnumbered, his head in on the wrong body, and the Maurice and Sidney are looming. He shows no signs of concern, or lack of confidence he can handle the situation. He still gets divetackled, but hey

And he’s not doing bad, given he’s wrestling against two guys his size.

And Ben has the helmet

“You need to fix us!“ And how, pray tell, do you expect your cousin to do that, Benjamin?

Welp, Gwen and Max got their heads swapped now.

And the watches timed out, meaning how Maurice and Sidney are basically helpless until shit times back in.

Welp, Maurice and Kevin swapped. So now Kevin’s head is on Ben’s body and Maurice is on Sidney’s. Meanwhile Ben’s head is still on Maurice’s body, Max’s on Gwen’s, and Gwen’s on Max’s.

This play-by-play brought to you by Fanta. Thirsty? Get a fanta.

And now Ben’s head is on a squirrel body. And a squirrel head on Maurice’s.

“Gotta fix this before I get infected with this dork’s genes“ Kevin pls.

Okay, Maurice is whole again, but now there’s a squirrel using Sidney’s body

Wow, Maurice, maybe you should’ve hedged your bets on whether you wanted to leave the helmet in the care of an 11-yo or a fucking squirrel.

And lo, now Maurice is back on Ben’s body and Kevin is on Maurice’s.

And I’m not even gonna give a play-by-play of these last several switches, just assume everything happened including the rise and fall of the roman empire

Kevin is fucking done. Also he and Ben are on each other’s bodies now.

Oooo, I was wondering if this episode came before or after Kev joined up with the Forever Nerd, turns out it’s after. Also this phone doesn’t have the spikes.

Oh gods and Ben is answering the damn phone.

FN: Kevin where are you? Me: Kevin is dead. Yeah, horrible accident involving a sprinkler system, a can of soda, and a mountain lion. Just awful. So, ya know, you may as well just lose this number-

Oh fuck

Oh gods damn

Okay so Ben imitates Kevin and claims he’s hanging out with his family (which, kudos Ben for trying to cover for him, your sweet child) and the Forever Nerd fucking- The quote-

“Family? *scoffs* That’s a laugh. You have noone. Without me, you’re all alone, remember? Now stop playing around and report back here at once.”

I’m gonna kill him, y’all. I’m gonna kill him and then wrap Kevin in a blanket and feed him cookies and cocoa until he pops.

Even Ben’s like ‘wait, no family?’ Which, given this clearly takes place after Introducing Kevin 11, what is going on in Kev’s life and what did Ben think was going on in Kev’s life?

Also Ben theorizing that maybe that’s why Kev crashed his family reunion, just to be part of one, and gods preserve me that’s a painful thought.

Kevin, critiquing the Bugg Brother’s evil plot.

Ben: If you want your body back you just need to blast me- Kevin: *blasts him*

Maurice and Sidney have been getting on so well this episode, it warms the heart. And makes sense in an episode involving a family reunion and the official reveal that Kevin has jackshit in the way of familial relations. Now to find if this is because he dropped them for being shit, because he’s actually an orphan, or he’s been taken from his family because they were shit.

Rath trying to be friendly and welcoming towards Kevin.

Kevin, just walking away from that shit.

And Max and the squirrel are still mixed up, and continue to be as the family flees the event.

9/11 solely due to Kevin things. My son deserves better.

#achi liveblogs #ben 10 2.os

2 notes · View notes

classicmarvelera · 5 years

Text

Marvel in the 70s: Creativity under Chaos

There are Editors who are more of Creators, Writers and/or Artists. Their leadership tenure is usually short lived despite being impactful in many ways. This can be applied on Marvel Editors such as Roy Thomas, Marv Wolfman, Len Wein, Gerry Conway and Archie Goodwin

Their short tenures show that they stepped down from the post of Editor-in-Chief in order to focus more on writing and creating new characters for an evolving readership. What binds them together? All 4 succeeded each other in the 70s, which happens to be a very important time both at Marvel as well as in the industry

Comic books are a reflection of our reality in some ways. Issues, whether foreign or local, are affecting both the publishing staff as well as the readership and that makes a splash on the pages. 70s were a difficult time for New Yorkers, especially. Besides national issues such as Vietnam War, Oil Embargo, Watergate, there was rising crime in the Big Apple. What made it more challenging for the publishers was the dwindling readership which in these uncertain times was like pouring salt on the wound

Internally, the short tenures of each Editors-in-Chief was affecting Marvel Comics. Jim Shooter, who succeeded Archie Goodwin in the late 70s, described Marvel Comics as “chaos on every level”:

“There was chaos, and everything was late. It was very disorganized, and in fairly short order I’d been to Marvel three times, and had seen three different Editors-In-Chief: Roy, Len, and Marv.”

- Jim Shooter

Yet the time period from 1972-78 with 4 different Editors produced some of the best characters, story-lines and even redefined super-heroism for decades to come. Marvel’s first Anti-hero & first Mutant, Namor the Sub-Mariner, may have been created during Joe Simon’s tenure but the new Anti-heroes found acceptance and popularity in 1974 with the creation of Wolverine and The Punisher whose approach against evil was lethal or bloody to be precise

During this time, new Urban Crime-lords also joined the Underworld fraternity of Marvel Universe while highly popular space opera properties of MCU found themselves making an entry in the same time frame

Another salient feature of this era is diversity in terms of genre and ethnicity. An African-American superhero from the ‘hood as a lead character, A Chinese superhero who is ‘the’ Master of Kung-Fu, An American Kung-Fu crime-fighter, a Canadian Mutant Superhero, new Mutants from Africa, Russia, Germany and Japan joining the X-Men. Vampire Anti-heroes or Anti-heroes fighting forces of the Dark Realm. A ‘Man-Thing’ or a Black Goliath

This era also saw adaptations of famous literary works (Conan the Barbarian) of the past along with blockbuster Hollywood movie (Star Wars)

But what this era will be best known for along with aforementioned achievements is a story that shook comic book world to the core. In these 6 years, it was established that a superhero is not always successful; they can fail miserably to the point of losing someone they love despite their superpowers. And not just losing their loved one to a natural death but losing at the behest of their archest of foes. Who can forget ‘The Night Gwen Stacy Died’

Marvel Comics as a company may have been struggling during these years but these years remain some of the most important in terms of creative output by legendary writers and artists whose work’s popularity keeps on increasing day by day

Comic book readers, new & old, need to visit & re-visit this very important phase in Marvel’s history without which much of MCU and Marvel’s Netflix series’ wouldn’t have existed

#classic marvel era #marvel in the 70s #roy thomas #len wein #marv wolfman #Gerry Conway #Archie Goodwin #marvel comics #anti hero #space opera

12 notes · View notes

thesoftdumbass · 5 years

Text

Writing Challenge Reminder

Hey you guys! I meant to make this post on the first of the month but it slipped my mind. I just wanted to let y’all know that entries for my writing challenge are due in (now less than) a month so please make sure to finish and post them by November 30th! A big thank you to everyone who entered and I am so excited to read your fics!

Tagging everybody who entered and hasn’t posted 🙂

@ruckystarnes @captainsbabysitter-blog @medicatemedrmccoy @imoutofmyvulcanmind @goodnightwife @bookcaseninja @fangirlextraordinaire @haveyouseenmymind @girl-next-door-writes @janeykath318 @archester-writes @mcu-owns-my-ass @fireboltrose7559 @musicmandy1991 @sgtbxckybxrnes @kjs-s @outside-the-government @auduna-druitt

#yallneedtrekwritingchallange #challenge reminder

31 notes · View notes

3dsfireemblemheadcanons · 7 years

Note

Maybe some headcanons for Virion x Libra? Ever since I saw their support conversations I've been a huge fan of the pairing

Ooh, this is a good one, I love this pairing.

Virion has always been armed with beauty tips in case he ever needed to dole them out, but he’s never been faced with a man who’s even prettier than he is.

Libra doesn’t take pride in his beauty since vanity is a sin, so whenever Virion humbles himself to ask his husband for beauty tips, Libra just says the Gods blessed him with his visage

So Virion pretends to be asleep whenever Libra gets ready so he can spy on his haircare routine so he can get his locks to be even silkier

Libra knows he’s awake. Virion’s consistent snoring soothes him to sleep when he has nightmares of his past. Virion insists he doesn’t snore, so he doesn’t fake snore when he’s spying on Libra.

Libra decides to turn the tables one day by walking directly over to the “sleeping” Virion and kissing his cheek, and he’s quickly greeted by a beet red archer.

“My my, I didn’t know you could blush while sleeping. Another one of the noble Virion’s many talents? It’s almost as though you’re awake.”

Virion mentions Libra’s “milky cheeks” in their supports and remarks about how lovely Libra is when he blushes, so he loves to make him blush.

This can be whispering seductive things in Libra’s ears in public, kissing him in front of people, or what makes him blush the most, lots of flattery.

His favorite way to flatter Libra is with his silly titles. “I am Noble Virion, Duke of Roseanne, the Archest of Archers! And you are Libra, the Holiest of the Holy!”

“But a holy man doesn’t brag about his holiness and piety through titles.”“Then why would the god’s make such a perfect man?”*cue the blushing*

And when he says he loves Libra’s milky cheeks, he’s not just talking about his face. When all else fails, grabbing Libra’s butt in public makes hi blush like a tomato.

Finally, I realized this while writing this but when they get married, it makes Libra the Duke of Roseanne as well. Libra is exactly what they needed. Between him and Cherche, they straighten out Virion’s reputation after the war. And his holiness and piety is a perfect counter to Virion’s showmanship and spoiling of his people.

Thanks for asking!

#virion #libra #fea #fe13 #fire emblem: awakening #Anonymous #Fire Emblem #fe #fe:a #fire emblem awakening

21 notes · View notes

howdoyoudothedew · 4 months

Text

Cardin (Little Miss Perfect)

Rated: G

Pairing: Archester (Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester)

Word Count: ~700

Despite having blackmailed Jaune, Cardin was rarely ever alone with him. As was his own plan. If he ignored Jaune as much as possible, he could ignore the way his heart fluttered around him like something small and weak. Cliched. Falling for the straight guy. Even after they formed a weird friendship, after Jaune stood up to him, after Cardin apologized, he kept that space. Still, they end up alone in Cardin’s team dorm, at the little bench he’d set up next to the window within his first week at Beacon so he could watch the stars. Neither of them are in armour. Like they can actually trust each other enough to be vulnerable. Though Cardin knows it’s only because it is night. As soon as Jaune leaves this room, he’ll probably get ready for bed even if he won’t sleep. A socked foot nudges his own. Cardin looks up to see Jaune standing over him. Wisps of blonde frame his face unevenly and the lights from outside play in his eyes like glowing stars. There’s a chuckle. A smile much softer than Cardin could ever deserve gets directed down at him. His body warms, spreading out from his chest and into his extremities like a campfire. Jaune tilts his head and his hair brushes his collarbone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” Jaune’s voice isn’t accusatory. If anything, it’s amused. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “Am I not entertaining enough? Do I have to get you to blackmail me again?”

Cardin snorts. A harsh, inelegant sound that makes Jaune’s smile widen so Cardin can see the incisor that grew in crooked. Whatever breath that’s in his lungs feels like it gets stuck there. Jaune’s eyes are closed. He reaches out and his hands grip onto the collar of Jaune’s shirt. There’s a confused noise from Jaune, but it gets cut off as Cardin pushes up at the same time he pulls Jaune down. Their lips connect. His brain blocks everything out except the pressure. Except warmth. They're soft. They’re chapped and smooth in uneven patches. Just as Cardin figured they’d be from all the times he’s seen Jaune biting at them. Once they part, the air stuck in Cardin’s lungs finally releases. Opposite it a shaky breath is taken. Cardin’s eyes snap open and all he can see is his own reflection in Jaune’s wide eyes as Jaune stares down at him.

Every bit of warmth leaves at once. He pushes Jaune away hard. No no no. This isn’t something he can do. He can’t. It’s not- It’s not good, it’s not worth it, he won’t be the gay guy who falls for the straight guy. He won't be. He can’t be. Love isn’t even anything he really knows, not like this. Jaune looks confused and Cardin turns his head to look out the window. “Get out.”

“Car-”

“Get out!” Cardin barks. It’s quiet for a moment, an audible indicator of Jaune’s hesitation, before footsteps and the door closing. The second it does Cardin curls into himself. The glass is cold where he presses his side to it. He breathes deeply until it stops hitching oddly.

In the quiet he drifts. Eventually the door opens behind him again, but he’s not clear on how much time passed. It feels like a lot. At the same time, it doesn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t look over. The possibility is so low because of his actions tonight, but he doesn’t want to take the chance Jaune actually came back. A hand settles on his shoulder. He glances at it just enough to see chipped, sparkly silver nail polish. Like a balloon he deflates.

“Cardin?” Russel asks.

“What did I do?” Is all Cardin can say. There are no tears in his eyes nor emotion in his voice. When Russel sits down next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, Cardin leans into him.

#rwby #jaune arc #cardin winchester #archester #link writes #light angst

5 notes · View notes

archester-creations · 7 months

Text

Rated: G

Pairing: Archester (Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester)

Word Count: ~900

A/N: Day four: getting back together @rwbyrarepairweek ; married archester, implied past mpreg

"Is he almost home?" Cherry asks for the tenth time in seemingly as many minutes, though Cardin knows it's only been an hour. Her anxiousness at seeing Jaune again is the only thing keeping him from being anxious. It's an hour past when Jaune said he'd get back. There's no real reason to fear, it was a pretty small mission and Jaune's team is talented and backing him up, but Cardin used to go out on those missions— has started to go out again, now that Cherry is older and he can leave to chaperone student training missions again. So he knows how quickly they can turn.

The night is dark, and Cherry fades slightly after each repeated ask, eyelids sliding shut for longer and longer stretches and her head falling to the couch's arm. Cardin has half a mind to put her to bed. But she was determined to see Jaune return. And again, her impatience is helping his own. One of them must stay calm.

"Almost," Cardin says for the tenth time in seemingly as many minutes and Cherry groans into the couch. The extra bits of cloth on her nightgown make a crinkly sound as she shifts. This time, though, he's unknowingly right. Sneakers sound on their wooden porch and the doorknob turns, Cherry perking up the second it does. She scrambles onto the arm as the door starts to open. Cardin buries his face into his hand, hiding a smile. The second the door opens she launches herself. Jaune stumbles back through the door, onto the porch, but catches her cleanly and returns the hug just as enthusiastically.

"Ma!" The seven year old unlatches herself from his shoulders, leaning back far enough Jaune has to hold a hand against her back to make sure she won't tumble out of his arms. She puts her hands on her hips. "You're late!" She says with all the scolding of an adult in her voice. It makes Cardin quietly snort.

"I'm sorry," Jaune pouts at her, briefly sending an apologetic look that's more earnest over her shoulder to Cardin. "Am I in trouble?"

"Yes." Cherry frowns at him seriously and he sighs.

"Alright. Can we discuss my punishment tomorrow, though? I'm pretty tired," Jaune asks her. Cherry hums.

"That's acceptable," Cherry says with a nod that dips a little too far into her chest. The boost of energy seeing Jaune again is starting to wear off slightly, Cardin can tell. The second it's fully gone she'll no doubt crash. Jaune nods back and guides Cherry to actually lie against his chest. She does, eyes closing briefly once, twice, before they close fully. Cardin can see the second she falls asleep, body lax against Jaune’s chest.

"Thank you," Jaune tells her– quietly, so she won’t wake up. The two of them take her to bed, where Cardin pulls the covers back and tucks her in once Jaune puts her down. They both kiss her forehead, Jaune turns on her nightlight, and Cardin pulls the door closed behind them. In their bedroom, Jaune sets his bag down so he can finally get ready to go to bed. Cardin watches– he’d gotten ready when Cherry did, going through the routines with her so she wouldn’t worry. Jaune stretches and his eyes say he is tired as he goes through the motions, eyes a darkened, hazy blue. He yawns wide before he even lies down. It makes Cardin snort quietly.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Jaune says in a whisper, squeezing Cardin to him with one arm. They are spooned now, though Cardin knows that will change through the night.

"What happened?" Cardin asks.

"There were a few more grimm than we expected," Jaune says. "Nothing to be concerned about, but enough to cause a delay."

“None of you are hurt badly?” Cardin asks.

“No,” Jaune shakes his head with a smile.

“Good,” Cardin says. He buries his face into Jaune’s neck. “I’m glad you’re finally back.”

Jaune laughs quietly into the dark of their room. “I’m glad I’m back too. It’s nice to sleep in an actual bed for once, even if you steal all the blankets.”

Cardin hits him in the ribs. Jaune hisses in slight pain. “I don’t steal them, you throw them all off and onto me.”

“Semantics,” Jaune says with a wave of the hand not holding onto Cardin. Cardin groans.

“You can always end up back on the ground,” Cardin says. Immediately, Jaune wraps the rest of the way around him, his other arm slipping under Cardin to hold him firmly around the waist.

“It’s too late. I’m back home now. You can’t send me out anymore, Cherry will get mad,” Jaune says.

Cardin hums. “I’ll just say you were mean or something.”

“You’d turn our daughter against me?” Jaune looks down at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open in mock shock. Cardin nips at the corner of Jaune’s lips, just because he can. It makes Jaune’s dramatics stutter to a stop and after a second he moves so he can actually kiss Cardin, presumably just because he can. Both hum into it.

"You can stay here tonight," Cardin whispers, close to Jaune's lips.

"Because you've missed me?" Jaune whispers back, kissing him briefly again, and Cardin gives a soft hum as response.

#rwby #jaune arc #cardin winchester #rwbyrarepairweek #ship name:#archester #day four #getting back together #cherry arc #established relationship #domestic fluff #writings

3 notes · View notes

idontknowwhattocallthisanymore · 2 years

Text

found this done by lewdneptunevasilias666 while looking through the tags, went ‘oh hey that could be fun’, shrugged and did this, so

otp game: [Without looking at the questions below, choose 10 favorite ships. Then answer the questions.]

1. Archester (Jaune Arc/Cardin Winchester)

2. High Noon (Sky Lark/Sun Wukong)

3. Chocolate Frosted Poptart (Coco Adel/Neon Katt/Weiss Schnee)

4. Nordic Winter (Weiss Schnee/Nora Valkyrie)

5. Video Games (Scarlet David/Russel Thrush)

6. Peace at Sea (Dove Bronzewing/Neptune Vasilias)

7. Bird Boys (Dove Bronzewing/Sky Lark/Russel Thrush)

8. Greek Freckles (Ilia Amitola/Pyrrha Nikos)

9. Sunflakes (Weiss Schnee/Sun Wukong)

10. Snowpine (Oscar Pine/Whitley Schnee)

THE QUESTIONS

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

Oh, that’s sweet. You think they’ve interacted. Buuuut, they could’ve totally met in the library or around during the Vytal Tournament

2. Have you ever read a FanFiction about 2?

I’ve written one! And I’m currently writing four(?) others

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screen saver/profile picture/tumblr?

No but I do have at least one picture of them reblogged here (go check it out)

4. If 7 were to suddenly break-up today, what would your reaction be?

Nooo, the boys T.T

5. Why is 1 so important?

Okay I swear I didn’t look at these questions first, it’s me of course I would put archester first. It’s important because it’s my first serious rwby ship. Because it’s the first ship I ever wrote fanfiction for and the one that is basically my chief comfort ship to write for. Anytime I do major writing events (last year’s whumptober), they’re the ship my brain naturally defaults to like it’s using it to take a break and reboot. It’s fun and it’s special to me

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

They’re a funny ship! They’re fun and have a great dynamic!

7. Out of all of the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

HIgh noon. High noon totally has the most chemistry. They’re both smart idiots. They’re risktakers and they have wanderlust- they’re willing to follow each other. Sun is so, so positive and such a just... ray of sunshine. And Sky, well, he can seem like that but he’s really not? So they also balance each other out. They’re just,,, good and fun work well together and bring me joy!

8. Out of all of your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

I do think they all have incredibly strong bonds. Because, I mean, that’s what relationships are built on? But if I have to pick, bird boys. They’re team members, they kind of need to. They’ve fought together, trained together, eaten together, slept together. All before they were all in a romantic relationship. And for that matter, nordic winter too. I mean, they’re traveling to save the world together, that’s gotta form some mighty strong bonds.

9. How many times have you read/watched 10’s fandom?

Not too much. I mostly look at art. It’s all very good. (I personally love @wickedtwisters )

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

Archester. I have shipped these two idiots since the volume one-two haitus. Send help

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Once and it was because of a misunderstanding. It lasted maybe a week. They were both angry at each other

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

Greek freckles. I’m sorry boys, but like. Ilia and Pyrrha. They’d be bitchin’ in a zombie apocalypse, it’s not even a contest

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

Not at all. (Really, the only reason they might is solely because ‘secret/hidden relationship-relationship reveal’ is one of my top three favourite tropes)

14. Is 4 still together?

Yes. Always.

15. Is 10 canon?

In my heart it is

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

Once again, Ilia and Pyrrha. Obviously it’s greek freckles. I love all these ships and bitches but, like... it’s more of a contest to say who’d come in second

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

All of them but archester the most (Cardin canonically has a crush on Jaune and in this essay-)

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

Three doesn’t have a tumblr page. I’m the only reason it’s even an ao3 tag

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

Oh. Oh no. Uh, well... I’m sorry boys but like... bird boys. I love them. I love them so much, I do. Buuuuut high noon is currently a main ship hyperfixation and technically I have three other ships, one of which all three is in, sooo. Voted off the island, I guess. RIP

#because i dont know how else to tag this #rwby #archester #high noon rwby #chocolate frosted poptart rwby #nordic winter #video games rwby #peace at sea rwby #bird boys #bird boys rwby #greck freckles #sunflakes #snowpine #link game meme #thanks harm for nordic winter being on this list #love ya

10 notes · View notes

love-fireflysong · 4 years

Text

Day 19: Domestic

Fandom: Tales of Phantasia Character(s): Chester Burklight, Arche Klein Words: 1309 Rating: General (minor swearing) Author’s Notes: It’s more Tales! Yay! Tried something different here, cause it’s not often I try to write dialogue between two people who absolutely love to tear the shit out of each other verbally, but still obviously really like and respect each other. I’ve noticed when reading other stories about them talking, that they tend to come across as them hating each other, just using the worst insults ever, with a sudden shift to ‘oh shit, I think I’m in love with you actually’. So I tried to find a nice middle ground but I don’t really know if I hit it.

“I seriously cannot believe that you’ve over a hundred years old, and you still can’t cook for shit.”

From where she was standing next to Chester in their kitchen, Arche poked him none to gently in his side, laughing at the way he squirmed to get away. “And I can’t believe that you’re still a rude little ass who insults his elders like this.”

Chester rubbed his side with a glare. “What elders? I don’t see anyone like that here. All I see is a pink abomination who acts like a six year-old.”

“Hey! I am a mature older woman, with years of knowledge and life experience behind me.”

He couldn’t help the snort that came out as he looked at her incredulously. “Mature? You? I’m definitely more mature then you are, and you’re like six times my age!”

Arche narrowed her eyes. “I’ll show you mature.” She abruptly pounced on him, tugging at both of his cheeks as she dragged Chester down to her level. He didn’t take anytime in returning the gesture in retaliation, and soon the both of them were standing in the kitchen and tugging at each others faces as they continued to insult each other.

“How is this proving you’re more mature?”

“You’re fighting back aren’t ya? That means you’re nothing but a child!”

“Child?! You’re the one that managed to burn the potato stew to the pot!”

“Not my fault you have crappy cookware!”

“Not my fault you’re a crappy cook!”

“Bastard!”

“Shrew!”

Neither is quite sure who let’s go first, but before they know it, they’re both glaring at the other, cheeks bright red from the constant pinching as Arche is now grabbing onto the sleeves of Chester’s shirt and he’s holding firmly onto her upper arms. They hold the the glare for as long as they can, but soon enough the both of them break down laughing, foreheads pressed together, and their grip on the other the only thing keeping them from collapsing to the floor in their giggles.

Soon enough, that too tapers off and the two of them are left standing in the middle of the kitchen, wide smiles on their faces. She’s been missing this banter between them even more then she thought she would over the last hundred years, and if anyone has learned to make every moment count, it’s her. So, taking advantage of the moment in question, Arche steals a quick, but firm, kiss. One that Chester barely manages to return before she’s let go of his shirt and turns back to the pot of what was supposed to be potato stew. But instead of chunks of white potatoes, carrots, and onions in a rich, brown, pork sauce, all that was in there was misshapen lumps of charcoal in a black, viscous sludge that had managed to burn to the edges of the cast iron cooking pot. She could only groan in dismay and make an exaggerated pout at the sight.

"I really thought I had it this time too...”

With his own groan, this one in grim acceptance of his fate, Chester grabbed at the pot and extinguished the flame from the stove. “And this is why I’m the one who cooks in this relationship. I cook, you clean. And then I clean up after you.”

Arche stuck her tongue out over her shoulder, but grabbed her broom and made to follow Chester outside. “Maybe it’s still salvageable, or edible. I mean, it can’t be a complete loss can it?”

When he reaches the door that lead to the outside of the the house, he turned to face her with a look of disbelief and disgust. “I say this with full offense intended, but I would have a better chance of survival fighting Dhaos alone and naked, then eating this crud.” Arche made to smack him in his ass with the handle of her broom, but he was already outside dumping the black concoction into the hole that had been so-loving dubbed ‘Arche’s Cooking Pot’ when she had first tried making a quiche a few weeks back. She debated on smacking Chester with the broom anyway, but decided that it might send him into the hole too and she wasn’t nearly that mean. Or angry.

“You think a Fire Ball would help to burn some of the gunk off?”

The snort that Chester made was so sudden, that he almost dropped the pot into the hole with the stew. A good thing he didn’t, he had a strange feeling that the combination of Arche’s ‘cooking’ failures would manage to eat through the cast iron pot almost instantly. “I think a Fire Ball would help to destroy our only cooking pot we have left.”

She frowned, knowing that he was right but didn’t want to admit it. She watched in silence instead as he scraped out as much of the charred food as he was able to before sighing. Unfortunately for her, there wasn’t a whole lot that her magic was gonna be able to do for them here. So she turned to go back inside and see what they could manage for supper with any ingredients they still had leftover.

“Hey, Arche.”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder a little hesitant and distrustful. It was never a good thing when Chester let his voice get that soft and thoughtful. Usually meant he was thinking about Ami, or that he was thought he was being too harsh with her. She didn’t like soft, caring Chester nearly as much as hot-headed, brash Chester. Soft Chester had his time and place to be sure, but Annoying Chester was much more fun to deal with. Annoying Chester she likes. She really likes him a lot, actually.

“Yeah...?”

“I think we still have some rice left over from when we did hashed beef a couple of nights ago. Go see if Cress and Mint have any tofu. I’ll make some Mabo Curry tonight.”

Arche winced. Ami it was. “Sure. No problem.”

She hears Chester sigh and braces herself for whatever is coming next. “And see if their willing to let you have some fruit too.” Apparently it was a two-fer tonight. Just her luck. Man, she really messed up on that potato stew.

“You gonna have enough time to make both the curry and a fruit dish?”

“Nope. That’s why your in charge of the dessert.”

Arche scoffs and tries to defuse the tense atmosphere building. She can’t salvage supper, but she can try to salvage this at least. They can have that talk later tonight. “Thought you said I was a shitty cook.”

He turns his head to look over his shoulder at her, still scrapping methodically away at the pot, though he’s almost done at this point. “You are. The worst cook I have ever met. Pretty sure you’re gonna poison me one day.” He see’s her open her mouth to rebuke or argue or something and cuts her off. “That being said, unless you’ve somehow gotten worse over the past hundred years, I do remember you being at least half-decent at those fruit desserts.”

She mentally pats her back in victory and can’t help the grin that comes to her face. “Oh, just you wait. I’ve gotten even better. I’m gonna knock your boots off with my fruit cake! You’re gonna regret ever calling me an awful cook.” Arche hooks her leg over her broom and fly’s towards the house where Cress and Mint are staying, but manages to overhear Chester’s next sentence as he practically yells it out to her.

“I’m already regretting asking you to help in the first place.”

With a wave of her hand, she sends a small Stone Blast towards Chester over the pit and laughs at his startled swear and the finger he sends up to her in retaliation.

#pride month prompt challenge #my writing #tales of phantasia #arche klein #chester burklight #archester #i am single handily bring life back to the top tag arent i?#god the poor people following that tag must be sick of me by now

9 notes · View notes