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alicedash2 · 10 months

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Izou x Teenager!Reader - puberty and crushes

not reviewed

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Since YN came to the ship, it's been a blast, but let me tell you from the beginning!

Izou arrived with YN on his lap, a small girl with a miserable appearance, who held tightly to Izou, hiding her face in the older's chest, he ran his fingers through the dry and broken hair of the small miserable girl, who managed to touch the heart from the gunslinger of the Whitebeard ship, the way Izou hugged him comfortingly made her stop shivering

The girl turned her head a little to see the men staring at her with curiosity, but soon YN turned her head again hiding, hearing the man's voice comforting her that everything would be fine, that YN was safe

Marco approaches, Izou hands her over, but the little girl refuses to leave and stay away from Izou, because he was the one who found her, who calmed her down in that state of shock and abandonment.

What happened is that YN had been abandoned in a humiliating way, left to die on a desert island, just for not fulfilling one of the family's standards and refusing to submit to that tradition where YN would already have a destiny sealed by the family, destined to become marry a rich pervert man and raise an unhappy family

It was night when YN was found, crying under a tree, alone and in the cold at night, when a man approached by hearing the cries, the same man saw the deplorable situation and decided to ask what had happened, which in which, the little child spoke to the cries and hiccups, Izou, seeing that the little one had already spent a week on the island, decides to take the little one to the ship

- it's going to be fine, you need to go with him now - Izou smiles at the girl, who shakes her head in protest and goes to the man again, behind his comforting hug

- you need to go with him, princess, I'll see you soon - Izou gently pushed her away, Marco took her to his office where he examined her and asked questions

After a few hours of sedatives and questions, YN snuggled into the dream world.

- she needs to rest, she hasn't eaten for 4 days - Marco said, leaving the girl's room

- I'll take care of her, I'll be responsible for her from now on - Izou spoke, he knew that the girl would take some time to get used to the ship and all those people, it would be an extreme change in the little girl's life

- are you sure? It's a child, taking care of a child is difficult -

- but we can't leave her in that situation, I'm the only one she knows, everything will be fine -

Hours pass, the girl wakes up, the moment she wakes up, she tries to remember what had happened, then, noticing the place where she was, she goes looking for the man who rescued her, who, in which, was in the kitchen talking to Thatch, she runs to him and hugs him tightly

- did you sleep well? -she asked, while the girl just felt comfortable in Izou's embraces, who nodded positively

And so, a wonderful friendship was born.

Izou treated YN like a princess, taught and educated her, not that the others didn't do something, YN always had something to learn from them, it was a fun life, even if they spent days in the ocean, rain or shine, when they docked in an island, it was just a party, Izou took YN shopping and spoiled her, liked to get into trouble with kids her age

Here, a list of things Izou said to YN

- that's not what I taught you!-

-don't get in trouble, you're a lady!-

- I warned you not to go there! I told you you'd get hurt -

- come with me, no need to be afraid -

°•°•°

One day, on a peaceful island, the Whitebeard crew was exploring an island, and on that island, Izou lost sight of YN, desperately looking for the child who was migrating to adolescence, with her 14 years old, desperately looking for her, asking the people saw a small teenage girl with flashy outfits (Izou had lent one of her clothes to YN)

Until, in one person, the person said that he saw a girl crying near a square that was nearby, Izou goes there, looking for the girl, when he finds her, he runs to her, thinking that something had happened

- what happened?! You can't disappear like that, come with me- Izou spoke

- I can't leave here... I hurt myself, I think, but I can't leave -

- like this?-

- It's... red- YN said with shame

- red? Blood? To where?!-

-hmmm I don't know what happened, it was sudden! If I leave here I will be ashamed! I soiled your clothes, sorry!-

- don't worry, where did you hurt yourself?-

- ...hmm - YN refused to answer

The girl gets up and turns her back to Izou, where she sees a small bloodstain on the bottom of her clothes.

-ah, tie this around your waist, let's go to the ship-

- what happened?-

- It's normal, stay calm!-

- it hurts, I can't walk -

Izou picked her up gently, and carried her to the ship, thinking about how he was going to tell her about this.

When they arrived, the girl was going to take a shower, after the bath, Izou took her to the infirmary, together with Marco, they prepared to welcome the small and new teenager who officially migrated to puberty

- look, you didn't get hurt, but this will happen every month, okay?-

- but what is this?-

- you're ovulating, it's something that happens every month when you don't reproduce, your body is throwing things out-

- oh, I understand-

- listen to me, you're going to feel new things, you're going to think new things, you're going to want new things, it's a new moment, you're in puberty, you're going to see your body change, it's going to be a little difficult time, but we're going to help you-

- what happened? YN, why are you crying?-

- she... just entered puberty, she's suffering because it's something new and painful, she's scared-

-here, I'm sure you want this- Whitebeard extended his hand with sweets and treats, making the girl smile and say thank you

- I'll take you to your room, your body needs to rest, Marco took her to the room, where the girl lay down and relax in her bed

- in these moments, it's good to drink plenty of water, it can help you -

- I understood!-

- good girl, you are slowly becoming an adult-

-adult?-

-yes, it is a process in which you are changing from being a child to becoming a young and beautiful adult-

- hmmm-

- well, I'm going, you can call me if you have any problems -

Marco was leaving the room, when he came across Izou, who looked a little upset

- your child is gone, is starting to become a teenager -

-she grew up so fast-

- now to take care of her will be more difficult -

- my little one is starting to become a young adult -

- soon she will get married and you won't even notice the notion of time -

Izou smiled, wiping a small tear in his eye, he knocked on the door and entered YN's room, who received him with smiles

-Izou!-

- I didn't even realize how much you've grown, YN!-

- Marco said I'm becoming a young adult -

- you look beautiful, know this, you are just a flower that just bloomed on a warm spring day -

Izou stroked YN's hair, who smiled passionately at Izou

°•°•°•°•

- who is she?- a red-haired boy saw a female form

- I don't remember seeing her in Whitebeard's crew- a boy with blue hair and a clown nose also saw the girl, they spied on her through a tree, the boy with blue hair, called Buggy, looked away and looks at his friend, who blushes and smiles as he catches sight of the small young woman

The boy, newly in love, walked timidly towards the girl, who quickly noticed the boy's presence.

- ehm... hi - the boy said shyly

- hey...-

- w-what's your name?-

- YN...you?-

-S-Shanks...-

- hm...-

- He knows?-

- hm, what?-

- I thought you were cute and beautiful!-

- thank you, I-I thought you were very charming!-

- thank you, do you want to... go with me, walk?-

-I would love!-

Shanks gently takes the girl's hand and they leave the island, talking shyly, sometimes praising and receiving more gentle touches, such as gently squeezing the other's hand, running a hand through his hair and touching the other's leg lightly, the peak was when Shanks kissed her gently on the cheek

- sorry, I had to do that...- the boy hid his face in his hat, incredulous of what he had just done

- It's okay... I like it-

- I'll take you to your ship, it's getting late -

- Sure, thanks, Shanks!-

- I can't believe it!- Izou saw all that hidden, he knew there was something going on, YN had suddenly disappeared, but she always came back, what did she find so interesting to leave and spend hours without returning?

After YN entered the ship, already at night, Izou stayed behind her.

- are you going out with a crew member from Roger?-

- Ah!- Izou! Don't scare me like that!-

- tell me -

- n-not exactly, he just asked me for a walk!-

- you're growing up too fast, YN! Watch out for him!- Izou said

- just because he is a crew member of Roger?-

- no, actually he's a boy! A boy going through puberty! It's dangerous!-

- I don't understand - YN made a confused face, they were just young people in love!

- you should be more careful with who you're going to start having a relationship with, young lady! -

- b-but - YN was cut off by Izou, Izou had an almost angry face, he was just worried about YN being used by a boy who would break the heart of the young girl he had just fallen in love with

- just be careful! Adolescence is the worst time to be in a relationship -

- You're being annoying, Izou!-

- I'm just doing you a favor to warn you, dear! I wish you well, do you like Shanks?-

-yes, he even lent me his hat!-

- ...I'm going to talk to dad, come with me!-

- but I only talked to Shanks -

- it doesn't matter! -

- humpf!- YN pouted and rolled her face

- it's no use pouting or snorting, it's still early for you-

- YN going out with someone? How mature! - Marco said with a sarcastic smile.

- no! I won't accept that, she's not mature, he kissed her on the cheek!-

-but it was just a kiss-

- no! You do not understand!-

- Marco, defend me! -

- Izou, she's in her teens, let her experience love!-

- never! Come on, YN, we have a long talk yet!- Izou holds YN's hand and takes it to Whitebeard, closing the door behind them

- how much drama...-

And Izou took her to Whitebeard, to report what had happened, Whitebeard didn't like Shanks very much, but seeing that his youngest daughter fell in love for the first time was something beautiful, but it awakened the protective instinct in Izou, at the In the end, Izou ended up listening to Whitebeard's words to let YN feel new emotions, be they good, having a relationship and the bad, rejection, it was a new phase and YN needed new experiences, but with care and guidance

#one piece #one piece x reader #whitebeard pirates x reader #shanks x y/n #whitebeard crew #shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #izou x reader #izou one piece #okada izou #one piece izou #op izou

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goforth-ladymidnight · 3 months

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On ACOTAR Faeries and Names

For some reason, SJM undoes most, if not all, of traditional faerie lore in her books. (I haven't read TOG or CC so I can't comment on those.) The cynical part of me thinks it's because faeries can be difficult to write well, therefore she took the easy route; the more forgiving part of me thinks it's because she set out to explore why humans believed certain myths about faeries, but then lost interest as she spent more and more time in the realm of the Night Court. (Side note: I find it odd that SJM chose to emphasize that the Illyrians are NOT really faeries, whether High or "lesser". I honestly wonder why that is.) Regardless, there's nothing very faerie about SJM's High Fae, etc. except for their ethereal beauty and pointed ears and the fact that they can do magic, I guess.

I've already written about Aging and Lying when it comes to ACOTAR's Faeries, and I thought I'd touch on another aspect of faerie lore that SJM chooses to ignore. (Heh, that rhymes.)

Names.

His [Rhysand's] eyes shifted to my face. “What’s your name, love?” Giving him my name—and my family name—would lead only to more pain and suffering. He might very well find my family and drag them into Prythian to torment, just to amuse himself. But he could steal my name from my mind if I hesitated for too long. Keeping my mind blank and calm, I blurted the first name that came to mind, a village friend of my sisters’ whom I’d never spoken to and whose face I couldn’t recall. “Clare Beddor.” My voice was nothing more than a gasp. ~ACOTAR ch. 26

Clare and her family are killed because Rhys revealed that name to Amarantha, even though he admitted later (in the next book) that he thought she made it up. So, Feyre's fears were not unfounded, but once she is Under the Mountain with everyone else, she is still reluctant to give her name when Amarantha asks for it.

Lucien is even brought forward and refuses to give away Feyre's name. For his defiance, Amarantha orders Rhysand to shatter his mind before Feyre finally gives in and shouts her name for everyone to hear. The Lady of Autumn even repays her sacrifice by helping her with one of Amarantha's "household tasks".

What is the sacrifice, though? It would seem that the only reason Amarantha wants to know her name is because Feyre knows hers, and wants to address her "properly":

“Feyre,” Amarantha said, testing my name, the taste of the two syllables on her tongue. “An old name—from our earlier dialects. Well, Feyre,” she said. I could have wept with relief when she didn’t ask for my family name. “I promised you a riddle.” ~ACOTAR ch. 35

In traditional faerie lore, it is said that names have power, so giving a faerie your name gives them power over you. (It is important to note that they cannot take anything from you. It has to be given.)

There is a scene in Hayao Miyazaki's animated classic in which the young protagonist Chihiro signs a contract to work for the sorceress Yubaba. In a beautifully animated sequence, her signature floats away and into Yubaba's waiting palm. She literally signed away her name. Chihiro is then given a new name in exchange: Sen. By the next day, she has already forgotten her original name and her purpose (freeing her enchanted parents). It is only when another ensorcelled young man gives her the bundle of her old clothes with a card in the pocket (with her name written on it) that she remembers who she was, and why she's there.

I just think it could have been very interesting to give Feyre a similar plotline in ACOTAR. By giving Amarantha her name, she no longer has it, and can no longer remember it. (And since the story is told in first person, it's easier to convey.)

How she gets her name back could be handled in one of two ways: Lucien gives back her name like the true friend he is, or she doesn't remember it until the very end.

If we explore the second option, this is what I'm thinking: Amarantha sought to break Feyre in mind, body, and spirit. The one thing she could never take from Feyre was her love for Tamlin.

“I love you,” I said. “No matter what she says about it, no matter if it’s only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body, I’ll love you.” My lips trembled, and my vision clouded before several warm tears slipped down my chilled face. I didn’t wipe them away. ~ACOTAR ch. 43

In my Faeries and Lying essay (linked above), I think it would have been more powerful for Amarantha to want Feyre to admit to lying about her love for Tamlin. In the same vein, I think it would be that much more impactful for Feyre to admit that even if she does not know her own name, she knows she loves Tamlin, and that's enough.

It's the one thing Amarantha couldn't take from her. It's the reason Feyre went Under the Mountain in the first place. And most importantly, it's the answer to the riddle. Love. And that's enough.

#my essays #sjm critical #the farther we get from the first book #the less magical it gets #acotar is a better standalone book #acotar worldbuilding #missed opportunities

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pettyrevenge-base · 6 months

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Make my life difficult for nearly a decade, I'll make you look like an idiot.

When I first left home to go to university, my parents co-signed a mortgage for me on an apartment style condominium in a small Canadian city. This was 20 years ago, so it came in at a whopping $52,000. They thought that this was a much better and economical choice than trying to find an apartment and deal with landlords. I loved the idea and moved into my new home.

The building was almost entirely populated by the 65+ crowd. It was small and only had 24 units split into 2 halves. I had a basement condo. It was a nice place, nothing fancy, but amazing for a student. I was young (19) but I was quiet, kept to myself and didn't do the whole party thing.

I got along with most of my neighbors, I'd help them out moving heavy things or carrying groceries upstairs. I was acutely aware of the age gap and the general image of a university student, so I made sure to be just an all around great guy to avoid conflict.

The one person I could never see eye to eye with was my upstairs neighbor. For a 70 year old woman that couldn't have weighed more than 100lbs, she walked like a damned elephant. She'd have gospel music on her TV at max volume at 5am on Sundays, she'd make remarks about "that damn kid" whenever something was left out of place. She even went so far as to accusing me of breaking into her car and making a police statement saying she saw me do it. Unfortunately for her, I was out of the country on an internship at the time, but still she persisted being a pain in my ass. I'd tried to approach her about the TV issue, and her response was to make sure that it was no longer just Sunday. After a couple of years of attempted diplomacy, it was clear that nothing I did would make things better.

Others in the building probably knew she had it out for me, but why would this adorable little old lady try to lie and get me thrown out of the building by the condo board? (She tried at least 11 times while I lived there).

7 years into my time living there, I was at my job with an Ambulance service just north of the city. I got called to a shooting. Guy shot his neighbor in a land dispute. The neighbor survived, but there was of course going to be a police investigation. The investigating officers called me to get a statement and offered to just come over to do it, rather than have me travel. One of them was a constable I'd worked with quite a bit, so I said sure. We set a time for about an hour after I'd get home from work.

I was just getting out of the shower when they buzzed to get into the building, I said "come in, I'll be out in a second". I hit the door buzzer and quickly grabbed some pants and a shirt. I heard them come in, and then walk upstairs. As I'm trying to throw on clothes, I hear them knock....on my upstairs neighbors door. They introduce themselves as being from RCMP Major Crimes division and that they were looking for me...balls. She says "oh, he lives downstairs, what do you want with him?". They thanked her and informed her that they couldn't say, as it was an active investigation. My heart sank....but then I had a thought.

It only took about 15 minutes to do my statement and they went on their way. And then the fun began. I knew the rumour mill would be starting. She would tell everyone that would listen that Major Crimes was looking for me and that I must be some sort of criminal. I decided to see where this went. Pretty soon I'm getting side eye in the hallway, neighbors are steering clear of me, so I know she's been talking. Turns out I've been arrested for robbery and kidnapping and must be out on bail according to her.

I found this out when one of my neighbors who was on the condo board showed up with a letter demanding an explanation and threats to have me kicked out. I asked him what this was all about, and he said "Well, Linda (not her name) sent us a letter about what had happened and we had to have an emergency board meeting because people don't feel safe with you here". I said that per the by-laws of the condo board, before any action could be taken, I could request a meeting to review and provide a defense. Linda was on the board, so I know she'd be there. They set a date for a week from then, but I was given a caution that it didn't look good for me and that I would have to do a lot of explaining.

The meeting day comes. Linda is sitting smugly looking at me, the other board members are giving me dirty looks. The board president asks what I have to say in my defence. I stand and quietly distribute a letter on RCMP letterhead, signed by the regional superintendent that says"Mr. Zenmedic is not under suspicion of any crimes, past or current and has not been arrested, detained or questioned as a suspect in any criminal matter. His duties as a Paramedic will often require him to make statements in regards to ongoing investigations, and in this instance on (date), investigators had gone to obtain a statement about an ongoing investigation for which he was professionally involved. At no time did the members discuss, disclose or in any way indicate that he had any involvement in any wrongdoings. I am deeply saddened by the necessity of this letter and we will be reopening an investigation into a previous incident regarding false statements made against him".

You could tell when people read and understood it. The dirty looks shifted from me to Linda. She exclaimed that it must be a forgery, she witnessed me being led off in handcuffs. She pleaded that they should believe her. It didn't help her. I stood and addressed the board and outlined the years of abuse and harassment, including the false accusation of break and enter to a vehicle. I informed the board that on advice of my lawyer that I do not discuss the matter further with any member of the board, as Linda being part of it and using her position for the purposes of harassment opened the board as a whole to litigation and I was still weighing my options.

The next day I had a knock on my door. The board president had informed me that Linda was removed from the board and that she was given warning about her conduct and that any further harassment could result in proceedings to have her removed from the building.

She also had a visit from police with a summons for providing a false statement and obstructing a peace officer. She had to attend court. She pled guilty to both and was given a suspended sentence and 1 year condition not to harass, threaten or intentionally inconvenience me in any way. If she abided her conditions, she would receive an absolute discharge (meaning it would be removed from her record, like it never happened).

I moved to another province before her year was up, but for a brief period of time, I actually got to sleep in on Sunday mornings.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

#pettyrevenge #lol #omg

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bodorogi · 1 year

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Prize Giving Ceremony | Felipe Drugovich

warnings: none really, fluff, maybe mentions of alcohol

word count: 1.8 k

note: special thanks to my friend and editor @clemswinecorn4r, who helped me so so much and without her I wouldn’t have finished this in at least 2 years.

I looked up at the gorgeous building that the annual prize giving of Formula 2 and Formula 3 was held in. Our team; MP Motorsport, won both the team’s and the driver’s championship this year and I had no choice but to attend. Not like I mind showing up in a nice dress in Monaco to have a taste of the rich life. As I stepped inside, I could already see Ollie Bearman chatting with the Leclerc brothers all three sipping the champagne that is given out at the entrance.

“Did you know that the drinking age here is 18?” I asked Ollie after the brothers left us.

“I’m really close to 18, okay?” he replied.

“Like 6 months?” I asked with a huge smile, remembering how drunk he got at a club after Monza.

“Closer than you are!”

“Young man, you are being rude.” I nudged his shoulder.

“You started it, old lady.” he chuckled. “But doesn’t matter how old you are you still look good.”

“Thank you, Ollie, you look handsome.”

“I’m guessing you have to go.” he after spotting the golden boy of my team in the background.

I made my way over to Felipe Drugovich, winner of the Formula 2 championship this year, and the one that I had to stick with the whole evening. He looked lost standing in the hall, all by himself. His expression changed as soon as he recognized me. He looked like he found who he was looking for.

“What are we supposed to do now?” he asked me after greeting me with a hug.

“I don’t know, just chat around, you know.”

“Chat with who?” he stared at me, terrified with big eyes.

“I don’t have a list of people you have to talk to. We could introduce you to some new people maybe?” Felipe gave me the same horrified look. “Or… we could try to find some familiar faces from MP or even some Aston dudes?”

“Who is coming from MP?”

“Umm… Not sure, they only told me about is Sander Dorsman.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“You must be right. How about we talk to Victor Martins? I see him just now.” I nod in the direction of the Formula 3 champion.

“Do we really have to?” he asked me with a tortured look.

“I will help if it gets dull. That’s what I am paid for.” I grabbed his elbow and dragged him towards a group of people.

“Ah, here is our other star! Hello Felipe how are you?” asked Bruno Michel as soon as we arrived.

“Excellent, thank you.” said Felipe with a flawless smile, and then giving me a side-glance, that could kill. I always find it difficult not to giggle when Felipe is forced to socialize. He always needs somebody by his side, but he manages to do the job just fine himself. I’ve known him for three years now, and I had stood next to him countless times on occasions like this one, supporting him.

I took a sip of the champagne I’ve been holding since my arrival and finally took my time to check him out. He took things casually, but I could still see that he put a lot of effort into his appearance. I even thought he made a great decision with choosing a black shirt instead of a traditional white one.

There was something unusual about him that I just couldn’t figure out. He was glowing in a way. He looked like he was enjoying the conversation I dragged him into. Something I never thought would happen. Or maybe, after countless occasions he was able to fool even me into thinking he enjoyed himself. That thought disappointed and scared me at the same time. After complaining for almost a whole year about how much he missed my assistance while he was with another team, he was fine. He applied the techniques I taught him to deal with anxiety, subtly fidgeting, while keeping that perfect smile on his face the whole time.

It reminded me of something I wanted to keep out of my mind; this is my last time working with him. He won the championship, and he is leaving. I have known that for a while but it never hit me as hard as that moment. Highly unprofessional of me to be upset about it. But somehow, in the last three years we have grown a bond, making us more than just work mates. I really liked him as a person, as a friend.

His laugh snapped me out of my thoughts. I quickly looked around and everyone was looking at him, with bright smiles and some even politely laughing. But his eyes were glued to me. I had absolutely no idea what joke was made, but it looked like Felipe was the one to make it. And I was supposed to laugh too. I didn’t even realize that I lost my smile somewhere in my thought process. I took a sip again to hide my embarrassment as everyone carried on talking. From the corner of my eye, I could see Felipe still looking at me confused, but I chose to act like nothing happened.

With more and more people to arriving, and the small circle we were standing in, started to grow bigger and bigger, as everyone wanted to join the two champions. Finally, Laura Winter stepped on the stage and asked everyone to find their assigned seats and get ready to start.

The MP family’s table was right in the middle, visible to everyone in the room, alongside ART and Prema. The three teams that clenched a title this year. I sat down right next to Felipe and Jen. Everyone was politely chatting to their neighbors, or in some cases to somebody that was sitting on the other side of the table.

The lights got dimmed, a signal that the ceremony will begin shortly, and everyone finished the sentence they have started.

Felipe looked at me, smiling, enjoying the spotlight for once, but with fear in his eyes. Without words, I reached for his hand under the table and pulled it into my lap to hold with both of my hands. His eyes widened with surprise but he held my hand and squeezed it twice. I started playing with his ring, which seemed like a reasonable way to pass the boring moments, but I just ended up not paying attention, and not clapping when I was supposed to. And Felipe didn’t clap either. Seeing me terrified, he untangled our fingers and just placed his hand on my thigh. I hesitated, but put my palm on the back of his and, not wanting to let go of his touch.

“It is definitely easier to clap this way, right?” he mumbled so only I could hear.

I would lie if I gave any opinion about the ceremony, since I don’t remember anything other than Felipe’s thumb circling on my skin. I also remember feeling cold when he sometimes took it to clap, and once when he went to collect his trophy.

Once everyone got their awards and trophies, they asked the stars of the evening to gather for pictures. Felipe stood up and when he realized I wasn’t planning on joining him he bent down to whisper in my ear: “Are you seriously not coming with me?”

“Well… Uh, you have company, and I only have to accompany you when you would be alone otherwise.” I suddenly forgot how to speak English when he pressed a kiss on my cheek and said “You are an idiot. I want you to come.”

I closed my eyes for a second to gather my thoughts. I slowly stood up and face Felipe, him holding his arm out signaling for me to cling ono him. And I did.

“Looks like someone is very quiet this evening.” he murmured with a mischievous grin.

“Looks like someone decided to be unhinged this evening.” I responded, suddenly finding my voice.

“I have to shoot my shot, you know. I live on a rock that spins really fast.”

He guides me toward the few people that are already at the couch that they decided to use as a photo-corner.

“Felipe! Congratulations, I didn’t have the chance to talk to you yet.” said Fernando Alonso, greeting Felipe like an old friend. “And sorry, who are you?” he asks looking at me.

“Felipe come, please!” the photographer shouts, and as Felipe excuses himself, I am left with Fernando and George Russell, both staring at me, waiting for me to introduce me.

“Oh, sorry, how rude of me. My name is y/n, I work for MP Motorsport, as a social media manager basically.” I shook both of their hands.

“I knew you looked familiar.” George exclaimed. “You have been in this position for some time now, right?”

“For three years now, so yes, you could say.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I believe we have to go.” Felipe placed a palm on my lower back and guided me towards the exit.

“We can’t just leave Felipe! Half of these people are here to celebrate you!” I yelled at him as soon as he opens the door for me.

“But I want to be with you.” he said in a low voice.

“How many drinks have you had?”

“One?”

“Are you asking me this? Or are you asking yourself?”

“Why are you trying to change the subject? y/n, we really need to talk.”

“It can wait. Don’t get me wrong, I know we have to, but this is not an appropriate time.”

“Why? I have waited months and honestly, I feel like I wasted these months.”

“Months?” I felt my heart dropping to my stomach.

“Yes. But now we won’t be working together anymore. y/n, I think I am in love with you. And I hate the thought of you being away from me. Which may sound a little selfish, but I was hoping you would feel the same. So would you go on a date with me?” he asked anxiously while stepping closer to me.

“Felipe…” I breathe out.

“y/n, you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. No pressure or anything, I just really wanted to tell you, okay?”

“No, it is not like this. I just don’t even know what to say and I really want to kiss your right now.”

And I did kiss him. Or perhaps he kissed me? Or perhaps it happened at the same time. It didn’t matter, because as soon as our lips met there was no way back. Suddenly all the puzzle pieces fell into place. I felt that this was right. He was right. I arrived to the destination I didn’t even know existed. It was home.

“You’re shivering. Let’s go back and from now on if anyone asks, you are my date.” he pulled me in for another kiss.

“That’s so stupid.” I said with the widest grin ever.

#felipe drugovich #felipe drugovich x reader #formula 1 #formula 2 #formula 3 #fluff

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 4 ~ Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC (Series)

[Masterlist] [Taglist] [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Charlotte is forced to come clean, if she wants Tommy to keep her secret.

Note: Thank you so much for the continued support. In this part, we also find out the root of the May/Mary fued

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Warning: Mention of Blood, WWI, Death. Expect canon conforming tone and mention of violence. I am of age and so my content is created for that intended audience. If you are a minor, please leave. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Wordcount: 5091 words

Part 4

[Previously]

“Show me.”

Her cheeks flushed and she glanced down at her shoes.

“It’s nothing.”, she mumbled to the floor, her voice barely audible.

“I said show me!”, he hissed under his breath, his blood still rushing through his ears.

Foolish girl, of course she would go get herself hurt.

“I assure you, Mr. Shelby, it’s nothing.”, she said, swallowing heavily as she looked up at him. He could see the cracks in her composure, the shine in her eyes, but whether it was from anger or pain he did not know, but he would soon.

“I will not ask you again.”

His tone left no room for argument and made her bristle.

She glanced around, but when she realised he had no intention of budging or letting her leave, she took a few steps back so that they were in the shadow of an arch, and with her back turned to the room, it hid her from view.

Tommy came up behind her, glancing over her shoulder.

When she took her hand out from the apron pocket, he saw she had wrapped a formerly white handkerchief around it, already soaked through with bright red blood.

Slowly she removed a makeshift bandage as if diffusing a bomb.

It was difficult to see with all the smeared blood but the cut was on the side of her hand, between wrist and where her fingers began. When he picked it up to see better, she winced.

“It’s not too deep, but we need to get it cleaned and stop the bleeding. There’s probably a medical kit in Mrs. Wollerston’s office.”

“You mustn’t tell her!”

She snatched her hand away and immediately regretted the quick movement by the look on her face, but it didn’t stop her from wrapping the handkerchief around it once more and hiding it under her apron.

“And why not, eh?”, he asked, trying very hard not to sound as impatient as he felt.

Why did everything have to be a battle with this one?

Only when she answered, her voice was far from fierce.

It was meek and pained.

“Please.”, she whispered.

“It’s not deep but it needs taking care of.”, he assured her, his hand finding her shoulder to guide her forward.

“You don’t understand!", she repeated, more insistent this time. “She simply can’t know!”

Tommy took a deep breath and glanced around.

He didn’t see the point, but what he did see were the unshed tears in her eyes.

And yet she chose to be stubborn.

“Alright. Come on.”, he finally agreed.

After all, he owed her. She had helped him, foolish and dangerous as it was, and now he’d…oblige her.And so he gave her a little push, and with his hand on her back forced her to move.

“What are you doing?”, she hissed, but before he could answer, Mrs Wollerston was already in front of them.

“Charlotte is a little shaken.”, Tommy told her. “I will take her to the tea shop down the street so she can calm down.”

“We can send one of the girls to accompany her.”, she suggested immediately. “Or have someone telephone Lady Rosamund or Grantham House!”

“That will not be necessary.”, Tommy said.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

“No need to worry, Mrs Wollerston.”, she said. “Mr Shelby is an old friend of my cousin’s, Mr. Crawley. They went to school together.”

Tommy had no clue who Mr. Crawley was but he was certain someone like him wouldn’t be allowed near a school he would have gone to.

But he nodded, deciding to go along with the lie.

“Really?”

She nodded eagerly.

“You see, it is more than appropriate for him to accompany me to tea.”

So this was the reason for all this farce?

He wasn’t good enough to take the great lady for tea and so the matron got worried and was ready to send a watchdog.

Tommy bit back a snarl and replaced it with false courtesy.

“In fact, he’d give me hell if I didn’t.”, he said instead, glancing at her apron to see if the blood had soaked through yet.

It hadn’t.

When one of the other girls went to retrieve her coat, as well as her bag and gloves, Tommy merely took them out of her hands before this could turn into a ritualistic preparation while ushering Charlotte out.

“I will be in contact about my donation.”, he said, to drown out any protest.

Once outside, he pushed her towards his car.

“Get in.”, he told her, opening the passenger door for her.

She hesitated, looking at him with uncertain eyes .

“I don’t think -”, she began but he cut her off.

“This or Mrs Wollerston’s office.”, he warned.

Biting her lip, she obeyed and sat down.

Tommy dumped her things in her lap like a sack of potatoes. Once he was in the driver’s seat, he reached to the back, pulling out a small black leather case. He opened it so that she wouldn’t see the spare gun and bullets, as he retrieved the medical supplies.

“You have all this in your car?”, she asked curiously.

“Yes.”

“Why, if I may ask?”, she said softly.

“Because it might be useful.”

Polly had insisted that if they have a car, they would always have a medical kit ready. Besides, in their line of work, it couldn’t hurt.

He placed her hand on a towel atop the leather case and removed the handkerchief, using it to wipe away the excess blood. When he let the water run over it, she began to wince, turning her head away.

“Shh.”, he soothed, surprising himself that he did. Then he took her hand up closer so he could see better. It was a clean cut, without any sign of tearage which was good, and no remnants of glass sparkled in the light.

“Now this will burn.”, he warned her, holding her hand in his hand so that she couldn’t flinch even if she tried.

“So I’ll do it on three.”.

Charlotte nodded her agreement and stared down at her lap. He could see her try to brace herself with deep, calming breaths, her other hand found that spot on her chest, pressing down.

“One.”, Tommy counted, “two.”

She gasped and like he expected, tried to pull away, so he only held her hand tighter. And she clutched him in return.

“Well done.”, he told her, still holding the hand up, “Let the iodine breathe.”

“You lied.”, she accused him, sniffling like an upset child. “How could you?”

Her shock had almost made him laugh.

She was looking at him as if his falsehood was the worst thing he had ever done.

He covered the cut and wrapped the bandage around it before it started to bleed excessively again, cutting the bandage with his pocket knife and tying it.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Shelby.”, she said once he was done, cradling her hand to her chest.

“Don’t worry.”, he assured her.

She offered him a smile and placed her hand on the door.

“Where are you going?”, he wanted to know.

“Back inside?”

“I said I’d take you to the teashop. Don’t make me more of a liar than I already am.”.

They found the teashop to be a bright little place, with pale pastel walls, decorated with stucco, and white tablecloths.

The chairs were dainty and covered with cushions and tea was served by young women in blue dresses and waiters in suits.

Rather quickly, they were seated at the table in the corner he had requested. It was a bit away from the others and gave a little more privacy. It also had the advantage of being up against the wall from where he had a view of the room and the other patrons.

He was the only man his age here, apart from the waiters, the only many younger than fifty. The rest were women and children.

Charlotte was sitting across of him, her hands in her lap and her eyes averted.

“Why did you do that?”, she asked, brushing her finger over her hand. “Why did you help me? We’re not friends.”

Before he could come up with a response, she doubled down, with twice as much vitriol.

“In fact, you’ve made it quite clear where you stand when it comes to my family.”

Tommy huffed as he let his lighter click to life, feeling her glare at him, but there was a bit of uncertainty in them too.

“Look,”, Tommy finally said. “I shouldn’t have said what I said about your sister.”

She pursed her lips and inhaled deeply, smoothing down her dress.

Once more his directness surprised her, seen in a split second where her eyebrow threatened to rise.

“You sounded quite certain in your opinion of her.”, she said, the light making the diamond choker she wore sparkle in a thousand different colours.

“I'm not anymore.”

“Oh my. What a surprising change of heart.”, she quipped, her back straight, her eyes cold. Only her hands were fidgety.

“You don’t know it,”, he finally said, leaning back in his chair, “but I usually don’t admit when I’m wrong.”

“That does not speak for your character, Mr. Shelby.”, she said, being blunt for once.

He huffed in amusement.

Tommy had to acknowledge that she had struck gold, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No it does not.”, he admitted, not giving in to delusions that it might.

“But it is no good in my line of work.”

“Race horses?”, she asked.

“Ah, no.”, he said, shaking his head. “That is just a hobby.”

“But I thought you worked with Mrs Carleton?”, she argued.

“She works for me.”, he said. Saying it sounded…strange, almost as if he was imposing, but it was the truth.

Mrs. May Carleton worked for him, a woman who lived in a palace like this, whose mother had been introduced to Queen Victoria.

Just at that, the waiter approached with a little wagon. There was tea, and an etagere fo sweets and tea cakes.

“You can put it down.”, Tommy told him and sent him off with a nod.

She lifted her hands just slightly, as if she wanted to reach for the put, but lowered them.

Tommy knew why and so he turned it around and poured for her.

“Thank you.”, she said, as she reached for the cup, holding onto it for dear life.

He watched her sip and heard the slight clatter as she put it down again.

“I won’t pretend that I look too kindly on how you spoke of my sister,”, she finally said, but he didn’t miss the sudden softness in her voice.

“But I can’t exactly blame you.”, she admitted with a sigh. “You are Mrs Carleton’s acquaintance, well - she and my sister are not each other's greatest admirers.”

He raised his eyebrow.

Charlotte squirmed slightly in her chair.

“Even I have to presume that there are two sides to every story, and I might only know the one.”

Tommy tilted his head and inhaled once more.

“Perhaps it's the same story, just with the names swapped around.”

That made her smile for real, and she tried to conceal it by looking at her lap. Still, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes gave her away.

“That could very well be true.”, she admitted.

“Why do they hate each other?”, he wanted to know.

Her eyes met his and she quickly backpedalled. “I wouldn’t go that far, Mr. Shelby.”

He raised his eyebrow and her defence crumbled.

Biting her lip, she glanced down at her lap before relenting completely.

“Well, Mary is an excellent equestrian, she always has been, by far the best in Yorkshire, in all of England, really. May came out with my older sister Edith. And in the autumn after, there was a hunt at our home, which May attended. Since she is also a rather good equestrian, it became quite heated.”, she explained. “In the saddle and off.”

“Off too?”, Tommy asked. Polly had always said he was a terrible gossip and it seemed so was little Lady Charlotte. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to know.

Embarrassed, she avoided his gaze.

“I shouldn’t say.”, she admitted, her hand touching that spot on her lower ribs. Then, she quickly reached for the tea again.

“Probably not.”, he agreed, watching her and under that gaze it took less than five seconds to crack.

“Mrs Carleton was quite lucky during the ride, while my sister wasn’t and that irked her.”

From what he had seen of Lady Mary Crawley, Tommy wasn’t surprised.

“And that evening, my sister was seated next to the late Sir Ian. She is a very charming hostess, you see, and the now Mrs. Carleton did not like the attention he gave my sister. It went on for the few days they were at Downton but then Mary discreetly let him know that she saw him as a very dear friend.”

“So just to get back at May, eh?”, Tommy asked, shaking his head.

“Oh no, not at all. I’m sure she was very fond of Sir Ian - it’s only that it was very important for my sister not to marry down.”

She sipped her tea again and Tommy was glad she was looking away, since he wasn’t sure how he had looked at that moment.

His memory went back to that palatial home with Greek statues and a guest wing, with crystal chandeliers, with diamond tiaras and silver forks, pearlessence spoons, art pieces from the 15 hundreds and antique busts just standing around in the corridors. And all that, to Mary Crawley, was marrying down.

Fucking hell.

Thankfully, Charlotte continued, because Tommy wouldn’t have vouched for any remote sense of politeness if it had been down to him.

“But that was long ago. Sir Ian and Mrs Carleton were married and were very happy together, but my sister never fails to bring up that weekend.”

Tommy nodded.

“Always love and horses, eh?”, he said.

She tilted her head and watched him, like silently asking for an elaboration, which he denied her.

Instead, he brought up another issue which was nagging at him.

“Why didn’t you want Mrs. Wollerston to know?”, he asked.

That wiped the soft smile off her face as if he had struck her, her eyes falling to her lap.

It was as if he could see the wheels turning in her head, grappling for words.

“It’s quite simple.”, she finally said. “If she knew, she would feel obligated to inform my aunt and my aunt can’t keep anything to herself and would undoubtedly write to my grandmother, who loves nothing more than when she is proved right, so she would be running up the house in a triumphal procession to rival Caesar’s and my parents would snap their fingers and have me on the next train to Yorkshire where I’d be boxed up in the nursery and never be allowed within a hundred feet of that church ever again.”

Tommy blinked.

If that is her idea of simple, what the devil is complicated?

"All for a cut?"

She shook her head.

"It's not just the cut, but the reasons for it. If they think I'm even in the remotest chance of harm, they'll shut it down at once.”

She scoffed.

“A man suffering an outburst of shellshock and me getting hurt in the process will be more than enough reason."

Tommy had felt his blood run cold at her words, even if she had said them so casually. His hand under the table coiled into such a tight first, it was almost painful to uncoil it when he reached for his cigarettes.

Only after starting to smoke, could he force the words out.

"What do you know about Shellshock?", He asked, his own voice dangerously low.

Her own was soft, shy even- as if she didn't dare say these things out loud.

"During the war my father hired a new valet, a man called Mr. Lang, who had been in France. It was going fine, but then we turned Downton into a convalescent home, in partnership with the hospital in the village. The whole house was filled with officers and well, we believe it might have brought things up."

She took another sip of tea.

"One of the maids told me that he had terrible nightmares and the like. And I overheard O'Brian, my mother's lady's maid that is, talking to him and then I asked my aunt, who is an advisor in our village hospital and she explained it to me. My sister Sybil told me stories as well. She worked as a nurse during the war. I suppose with an aunt running a hospital, a sister in nursing, my father's manservant and a house full of soldiers, I would have to be terribly foolish not to have any knowledge of these things."

Tommy glanced down at his legs. It was not the answer he had expected.

Her brown eyes met his blue ones.

"You were in France too, weren't you, Mr. Shelby?", She asked. "That's why you care about the cause?"

He cleared his throat. "I was.", He said, his mouth dry as dust.

She only nodded.

After a while, he decided to speak up.

"Your friend, who taught you to jump. He died in France?", Tommy asked.

She shook her head.

"No. He got very badly hurt but Granny fought like a shewolf to get him back to us so at least he wasn't in a strange and foreign place but with people who loved him when….-"

Her breath was a shuddered one and for a moment he feared she might cry, but instead, Charlotte closed her eyes once and took another sip of tea and was the personification of her birth once more.

"Why did she have to fight? I thought it was your hospital?", He asked.

"Ah.", She said, seeming almost embarrassed. "Well, the village hospital was a hospital for officers, so we only had officers at Downton."

"And he wasn't an officer?", He asked.

"No, he was my cousin's soldier servant."

When Tommy didn't respond, she was forced to elaborate.

"He was our footman before the war. And at the start of it, he got to stay home. We both helped out with the horses when the stable hands went overseas.”

I should have done that, Tommy thought bitterly.

Tending to horses instead of watching them die by the scores.

“He volunteered and was desperate to go, so motivated and even excited. Even in the end, he was proud of what he had done, relieved even that he got to do his duty."

She took a sip of tea.

"While some of us were entirely useless during the whole thing.", she said bitterly, her chin muscles twitching.

"You were a girl.", Tommy said. "That's different."

"Oh please don't be so naive, Mr. Shelby.", She said sternly.

Tommy felt his eyebrow rise. He had been called many things in his life, but naive was not one of them. And hearing it from someone like that was certainly not something he expected.

"My own sister was a nurse. My mother opened her home to injured soldiers and managed it to great success. My other sister learned to drive on a farm to help out and keep things running so the nation wouldn’t starve, while simultaneously helping run the home like my aunt Isobel ran the village hospital - that was before my aunt chose to go to France herself.”

That was not a list he had expected, but Lady Charlotte Crawley was far from finished.

“They did all that, while I spent the entire war locked away, chaperoned, at arm's length away from any use and purpose and the one time I actually did anything remotely meaningful -"

She had gotten into a right rage but broke off so suddenly, he felt like he got whiplash.

Her hand covered her mouth, as if she wanted to prevent more words from escaping while she forced her eyes shut, banishing the things he could not see into the depth of her memory from when they had broken free.

Tommy swallowed hard.

"So that's why you care about the cause.", He said, almost gently, repeating the words she had used earlier.

"I’d very much like to be useful, and in my life there really aren’t that many opportunities for that.”, she confessed, staring at her hands in her lap.

They sat in silence for a while, the day's exhaustion and the conversation hanging between them.

"I'll take you home.”, he finally said. “You need to rest."

"Thank you, but I am quite well. There is no need for you to bother."

"No you're not.", He said, his voice so low only she could hear. “You do a good job of hiding but I saw you. You were stupidly brave earlier, but you were also scared. And you got hurt and your hands won’t stop shaking. So now I will take you home and you will rest.”

She looked like she was about to argue, but he didn’t give her the chance to find the right words.

“Where d’you live?”, he asked.

"I am staying with my aunt. She lives in Eaton Square."

He scoffed slightly and shook his head. "Not too shabby."

They drove in silence, until they reached one of the best parts of the city.

"Will you become a donor? At the soup kitchen, I mean."

He nodded. "Will you come back?."

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?", She asked. “When I’m in London and there is an opportunity.”

Tommy smiled slightly, just barely betraying his thoughts.

He pulled over and stopped in front of it.

"Right here.", She said, pointing at one of the larger houses.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Shelby. For the tea, for your donation, for…for helping Mr. Wilkins and for keeping my secret."

He watched her walk up the steps and knock. A moment later a butler in white livery opened and let her in.

And then she was gone.

Earlier that day, Tommy Shelby was sure he had the gist of her, now he was no longer convinced.

He shouldn’t have asked for such a wide timeframe. He had expected a few papers, a dozen at most, but instead he had boxes and boxes of newspapers delivered, some local, some national, some even international. He started with the international ones. The biggest article was in the New York Times during the last century.

FOR SHE WILL BE A COUNTESS: New York crowds bid Miss Cora Levinson farewell as she departs New York under great cheers and best wishes to start her journey overseas for her marriage to VISCOUNT DOWNTON, the future EARL OF GRANTHAM.

This American article, unlike the books from the English library, actually made sense. It explained that the Viscount Downton would be the Earl of Grantham upon his father’s death, that he had served in the war and won honours there, that he had a large estate to his name and would make her one of the grandest Ladies of the land. He also found birth announcements for each of her four children in the international papers, first a Mary, then an Edith, then a Sybil and finally a Charlotte.

Lady Charlotte Isadora Crawley

The article about her birth was rather flowery and made him sick to his stomach. So he turned to more recent articles, forgoing the ones about her christening.

She was listed in reviews of the debutante season, with the American papers placing more emphasis on her than the purely English ones, but then again, they seemed to place a great deal of worth on “their Ladies”.

They had a picture in there too, from her official court presentation, apparently, where:

Lady Charlotte Crawley was presented and introduced to the pleasure of their Majesties

Whatever that meant. She was standing on a few steps, her eyes meeting the camera. The black and white made her eyes seem darker than they were, like two bottomless lakes at night, too dangerous to swim in. She was wearing a white dress with a train that looked simple, at least compared to the dazzling diamond tiara she was wearing. Behind it, at the back of her head, she had a few white feathers, which he really did not understand. In her hands she held a small bouquet of white flowers.

All in all, she looked almost like a bride.

But Tommy didn’t like the picture. Her eyes were so wide they almost looked alarmed, her head was tilted slightly and she didn’t smile. Maybe she even looked sad.

He ripped it out nonetheless.

There was barely a weekly local paper without at least a mention of her or their family in Yorkshire, detailing their charity work, how they cut ribbons and presided over meetings, raised funds and more. The Downton Village Hospital was featured time and time again, but also something for school children, an education board one of them was a committee member, a garden competition, a donations collectorate for a great many causes. He also read about a similar soup kitchen project in Downton. But when they turned their home, something called Downton Abbey, into a hospital, the press made quite a fuss about it.

There was a picture there too - of a large two winged door and in front of it they could see both the nurses and the family. She was younger then, with her hair still falling down her shoulders and her white dress not touching her shoes in the old fashion.

He spotted Mary, and guessed that the one nurse standing on their side must be Sybil, making the light haired one Edith. All the other girls had their mother’s colouring. She was easily found, the woman holding Charlotte’s hand, even daring to smile a little. Her husband was a broad man with a pronounced belly, although he was not fat. In this picture, he was wearing a military uniform. This sight alone warranted him to reach for the whisky glass.

Whenever he found something interesting, he pulled it out and put it aside. The rest he just put away. Soon the entire desk was covered, and a good part of the floor as well.

He looked up as the door clicked open and Ada entered.

“You missed dinner.”, she explained.

“Wasn’t hungry.”, he said. His sister’s gaze roamed over the mess with a disapproving glare worthy of Aunt Polly.

“You do know that all these things are borrowed?”, she demanded to know.

“I will give it back. Most of it, at least.”

Ada tsked and shook her head.

“What?”, Tommy asked. “No one will notice.”

“Of course they will fucking notice. You’ve ripped things out!”

He leaned back in his chair so forcefully it swung back slightly.

“Then they can fucking complain, eh?”

Instead of leaving him in peace, Ada picked up a few of the things he had looked out, letting her eyes scan it.

Then she found the ripped out picture of her court presentation. He hadn’t wanted her to see, but now, as she held it into the light, it was too late.

“Who’s she?”, she wanted to know in a tone that reminded him painfully of Aunt Polly.

“Someone I met recently.”, he said, already knowing where this was going.

Ada stared at the picture for a while and Tommy resisted the urge to tell her about all the things that were wrong about it, unnatural about the pose and just not her. But he bit his tongue.

“Don’t go punching above your weight.”, she warned, putting it down again. “And don’t hope either. These people don’t care for the likes of you and me, not in the long run.”

Tommy lit a cigarette and leaned back, thinking back to the tears in her eyes, the clutching of her hands and the light in her eyes.

So much for not caring.

Using his moment of distraction, his sister reached for the dark green file.

“Ada.”, he warned.

He didn’t want her looking through his research on Charlotte, but she couldn’t look into the research work he was compiling on Churchill, on the Paddys and Campbell. It was far too dangerous and she was already suspicious.

Better she thinks I have a thing for Charlotte, he thought.

With a click of her tongue, dripping with disapproval, she tossed it back on the desk in such a fashion that the papers spilled out all over it and over the floor underneath.

“Seriously?”, he asked, but his sister was already on her way out.

With an annoyed groan, he crawled around on the floor and picked them all up in one big stack before sorting them - the things about Charlotte on the pile to his left, those about Churchill, Campbell and his lackeys on the right, seething with every move.

His research was thorough, not just official papers but also anything, whether it be report, in house message, or newspaper article that mentioned them.

No matter how meaningless.

Why is it these people always look so miserable?, he thought, as he glanced at a wedding photograph showing bride, groom and entourage.

But then he frowned. The headline from the one year old article read:

THE MARQUESS of BLANDFORD weds THE HON MARY CADOGAN.

He must have missed that, after all, he recognised the title, and the family connected to it, but just as he was about to place it down on the right pile, he hesitated, staring at the page.

The bride and groom made a dashing pair, and were flanked by their respective parents, the best man, and then six bridesmaids, all wearing white dresses and white floral wreaths. Three stood on either side of the happy couple. His eyes widened when he saw the fourth from the left.

Tommy’s mouth went dry as he his eyes raced through the listing.

Say what you want about these people, they were impossibly thorough when it came to mentioning names and titles.

Before too long he found the list of bridesmaids, all either Ladies or Honourables, with their titles, ages, families and their connection to the happy couple.

And there she was:

THE LADY CHARLOTTE CRAWLEY, aged 20, daughter of THE EARL and COUNTESS of GRANTHAM - Goddaughter of HG THE DUCHESS of MARLBOROUGH

He leaned back in his chair until his head hit the leather and closed his eyes.

Goddaughter of the Duchess of Marlborough.

The words echoed around his head.

Fuck. ~

End of Part 4

Part 5

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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yurayura-kurage · 9 months

Text

A3! Troupe Event: MY WORST WEDDING | Event Story Translation (5/11)

Neither Japanese nor English is my first language so please forgive me if I made mistake. However, feel free to point me out, I’d love to hear your feedbacks on the translation ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Translation under the cut

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Azami: Hmm–, well this isn’t bad either but… I’d like to give a more dignified impression of a former soldier.

Juza: Should I gain more muscles?

Azami: That’s okay, but I want to do something about the hair makeup plan too.

Juza: Omi-san will have his side hair shaved right.

Azami: Yes. Juza-san’s Grayson has a scar on his eyebrow, do you want to have an updo hairstyle with your bangs slicked back like Omi-san?

Juza: Sounds good. It also suits Grayson’s image.

Azami: Then, we’ll go with this hairstyle…

Juza: What are you planning to do with your own hair makeup? Are you gonna dye your hair blonde?

Azami: I’ll never have my hair matched with Sakyo’s.

Juza: …That’s right, speaking of Sakyo-san, I heard his sister came to our dorm.

Azami: Your brother also asked me the same thing.

Juza: Kumon was surprised about how rare it was for Sakyo-san’s sister to come to the dorm.

Azami: So that’s it. It seems that she came to consult about Sakyo’s mother.

Juza: Sakyo-san’s mother you say–– Did something happen to her?

Azami: No, it’s not something bad–. Sakyo’s sister wants to have a wedding photoshoot for her parents on their upcoming wedding anniversary.

And she wants her mother to wear a wedding dress, but her mother didn’t want to. That’s why she came to ask Sakyo to help persuade her, but Sakyo refused.

Juza: I see…

Azami: By the way, Sakyo’s mother is a fan of yours right?

Juza: Aah, she’s been taking care of me a lot.

She gives me presents during the run of Autumn Troupe’s performances, so I always contact her to say thanks every time she does that.

Azami: You even know her contact info.

Juza: Sometimes before the performance starts, she sends me a support message and asks how Sakyo-san’s been doing recently.

Since it’s that person, Sakyo-san doesn’t contact her by himself too frequently. And it seems that the old lady also doesn’t often contact him directly. They’re just like mother like son.

Azami: I see.

Juza: While caring about each other, they don't seem to be some busybodies that can interfere so much with each other’s lives.

About the wedding anniversary celebration too, it must be difficult for Sakyo-san since it’s not something he’s good at.

Azami: …

Juza: It’s just, I don’t know a first thing ‘bout wedding but it seems to be a memorable event.

My mother often talks a lot about wedding, too. We also have photos decorated in our house.

Azami: ...I also heard from my mom before she passed away, that she wanted to wear a wedding dress. In my parents’ wedding ceremony, she wore an all-white kimono to match with my father.

If possible, I think she wanted to wear one before she breathed her last breath. Sakyo’s mother and mine are somehow similar.

Juza: I see…

Azami: Sakyo’s mother said that she didn’t want to wear a dress because she wouldn’t look good in it now, but I don’t really think so.

When I talked to Yuki-san about this, he said age didn’t matter. I think makeup can solve that problem.

Well, nothing, neither Sakyo nor his sister asked me to be all fussed over and act like this tho… Maybe even Sakyo’s mother doesn’t have that much fondness for a dress to begin with…

Juza: …Shall we go and meet her.

Azami: Eh?

Juza: I want to meet her in person and show my gratitude too. Then why don’t you ask her what she really means?

There might be some true feelings she can’t tell her son and daughter, I guess.

Azami: Well… It’s true that such things can also happen. That reminds me, there is something I want to say thanks to her, too.

Juza: If so, I’ll contact her then.

*At the living room*

Omi: I’m home.

Sakyo: Welcome home. You’re late today.

Omi: Sorry, my work took longer than expected– I’m in charge of dinner for tonight, so please wait a bit.

Sakyo: Then I’ll lend you a hand.

Omi: Thank you!

*Shifts to kitchen*

Sakyo: Did you have another shooting work today?

Omi: Yes. It was a pre-wedding photoshoot taken in the park.

I was so excited to take a miraculous photo that I ran to the local shop on the street to buy white sheets in replace of the reflector boards…

I was dripping in sweat.

Sakyo: That was tough, wasn't that.

Omi: But it’s great to keep an once in a lifetime moment like that. I think it’d be nice to take my job seriously for that moment.

Sakyo: …You, did you hear something from the Director or Bon?

Omi: Eh? What do you mean by that…

Sakyo: No, nothing.

(Even if it’s a once in a lifetime commemoration, it’d be meaningless if she didn’t want to…)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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#a3! translation #autumn troupe #akigumi #autumn troupe’s 10th play #my worst wedding #my worst wedding translation

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zealouswerewolfcollector · 1 year

Text

Maiar Hate This Simple Trick

I wrote a sequel to @elentarial‘s Desperation and Defeat for @tolkienremix. Big thanks to @welcomingdisaster for beta! Please make sure to check out the original fic too (and the rest of fics in the collection!)

2234 words, T, background Celebrimbor/Narvi and Celeborn/Galadriel

On Ao3

Compilation of miscellaneous notes and letters sent between the high lords and ladies concerning a particular incident of note occurred in Ost-in-Edhil in the eleventh century of the Second Age.

From Prince Celeborn of Doriath to Lord Celebrimbor of Eregion

Dear Celebrimbor,

You might not be aware of it (I lay no blame on you for ignorance born from inexperience), but when you assumed the leadership of Eregion, you also took upon yourself the burden of responsibility for the safety and comfort of all its citizens.

Regretfully, my safety and comfort were threatened when the Maia, who hails himself Annatar, chose to visit me uninvited to inquire of the whereabouts of my beloved wife and, most disturbingly, to complain about certain facets of your Dwarven colleague. (I have made my views of your association with that individual perfectly clear, so I shall not repeat myself here.)

Celebrimbor, mayhap the Noldor seek knowledge everywhere, but we, the Sindar, have certain reservations. Thanks to your Maiarin suitor, I now know more of Dwarven anatomy than I ever wanted or needed to know.

I beseech you to keep this Annatar creature on a short leash if he ever returns (which I doubt as the Dwarf’s physique seems to have thoroughly intimidated him). Perhaps more importantly, I implore you to advise your Dwarven friend to dress modestly. I shudder to think of the response an unexpected encounter similar to what he had with Annatar might elicit in your Sindarin citizens.

I remain at your disposal if you ever need advice concerning governing the realm.

Yours in friendship,

Celeborn

Celebrimbor’s notes:

???

Ask Narvi

Could he not walk for a few minutes and speak to me?

Find out when and why Annatar left

From Lady Galadriel in Lothlórien to her cousin

Celebrimbor,

I will keep this brief. I am happy that the pretender has been ousted from Eregion. However, I am very unhappy that he had the gall to come to me with his lies. With all the ousting experience that you have, would it be so difficult to dissuade him?

But perhaps I give you too much credit. The deceiver likes to add a kernel of truth to his lies to make himself seem more trustworthy, and from what he did not say, I reasoned that Narvi played a great part in his exile. I hope you understand that you should always keep Narvi by your side. Even when the time comes for him to pass to Aulë’s Halls, I strongly advise you to acquire another Dwarven companion after the appropriate mourning period.

Please convey my most cordial greetings to Narvi. Aside from my husband, he is what I miss most of all about Eregion. But if you believe you can come begging me to return now that the imposter is gone, I must disappoint you. I have left for good.

Keep Narvi away from Celeborn, but do try to visit him from time to time. He is lonely, and you are his kinsman, however distant.

Your cousin,

Galadriel

P.S. Celebrían sends her love.

Celebrimbor’s notes:

[a sketch of a ring]

From Lady Galadriel to her beloved husband Celeborn, Prince of Doriath

Dearest,

How fare you alone, without your wife and your daughter? Enough time has passed for my wrath to abate and allow me to admit that I miss you. Oh, if only you were not stubborn as a Noldo* and joined us in Lothlórien! It is reminiscent of Doriath of old, or it could be one day if we both put our minds to it. Were you here, we could run bare and free as we did in our youth under Melian’s singing trees.

Do you remember, beloved, how I took your hand and asked you to show me the magical corners of your home? You wove a garland from the golden beech leaves in Neldoreth and put it over my hair. Your touch was as soft as the grass beneath my feet. In the cold waters of Esgalduin, we pledged our eternal love to each other, witnessed only by the nightingales and Eru himself.

In Lothlórien we may regain some of what we have lost. The song of the trees is different but no less sweet. When the mellyrn seeds grow into trees, we shall have something even Melian did not. If you close your eyes, do you see you and I walking under their bright leaves? Do you see yourself taking my hand and asking me to show you my best-loved part of the forest? I see it, beloved, I do.

[omitted two pages of descriptions of Lothlórien and three pages of intimate nature]

Incidentally, the detested Maia paid me a visit recently. I will not tire you by repeating what he said. It was the same old lies he had bored me with in Ost-in-Edhil. I am surprised he insisted yet again he was an apprentice of Aulë, knowing that I knew for certain he was lying. He seemed rattled, for the lack of a better word, as much as someone like him can be rattled. I am quite sure it was due to his expulsion from Eregion.

Dearest, I need to know exactly what happened, what affected him so, and how it can be turned against him and those of his ilk. I have already written to Celebrimbor, but it is highly unlikely he will write back or be aware of the details of the events that transpired. Thus, it falls to you to find out. Begin with Narvi the dwarf. If you are fortunate, it will end with him. I suspect he has played the greatest role in the pretender’s defeat.

Once more, I want to emphasize the importance of your task. I care not what you have to do. Even if you have to grovel before Narvi, do it. I need every detail. I know you find his dalliance with Celebrimbor offensive, but if you wish to have any chance for us to live as a husband and wife again, you will do this for me. If you are successful, I might even consider returning to Ost-in-Edhil with our daughter. I have not told her I am writing to you again. It upsets her greatly not to have you with us. I have no desire to remind her of it.

If you have any doubts, reread my letter, dearest. I know you will do what is best for our family.

Your loving wife,

Galadriel

* Margin note from Celeborn։ the Noldor do not own the concept of stubbornness

From Elrond, King’s herald, to Lord Celebrimbor in Ost-in-Edhil

My dear Celebrimbor,

Are you as surprised as I am to realize that ages have passed since our last meeting? I cannot lament my duties, and I know that you, too, bear yours gladly, but surely we should strive to find more time for those we hold dear. More and more frequently, I find myself wanting to turn to you for advice or for a simple conversation like the ones we used to have so long ago. I am not the only one who misses you for you have touched the hearts of many people before you moved East.

[omitted five pages of detailed reports on mutual friends]

Dear Celebrimbor, please do not think this is the only reason I am writing to you, but I need your help with a matter that might prove greatly significant. I must begin with a story that will certainly sound very familiar to you. Several years ago, a Maia came to Lindon, claiming to have been in the training of Aulë and offering his aid and counsel. The King was tempted, as was I, and as I am sure anyone would be. However, soon I came to mistrust the Maia and his words for the promises he made seemed designed to gratify his listener and often changed depending on who he was talking to, but in such a way that the listener failed to notice. Moreover, I perceived he did not favor me much, which would not trouble me, as you certainly know, if he did not speak so sweetly to my face and then whisper to the King’s ear that I was contemplating usurping him.

Fortunately, this was what made the King reconsider accepting the Maia’s offer for Ereinion Gil-galad knows me better than I know myself and has never questioned my loyalty. The Maia was asked to leave Lindon, and we did not hear of him again until weeks ago when he reappeared in Lindon and flung himself, repentant, at the King’s feet. He swore he regretted his mistakes and had come to atone as well as reiterated his offer to help preserve the beauty, power and youth of the Eldar for ages to come. Presently, I received a letter from Lady Galadriel, cautioning me against trusting the Maia and recounting a compelling story about a Dwarven friend of yours, who is seemingly unperturbed by Maiarin wiles. I shall copy her letter here, so you can read it for yourself.

[omitted Galadriel’s letter]

My dear Celebrimbor, I fear the Maia has truly learned from his mistakes and shall henceforth be even more careful in his actions. Even if he does not sway the King, there are others he may influence, and if his intentions are verily as malicious as I suspect, we might be facing a disaster once he succeeds. Therefore, I ask you to share the tale of your Dwarven companion with me and the King, so we can know how to fight this evil. Please spare no details. Perhaps you may not agree or may think I am exaggerating, but finding out how to counteract a rogue Maia might be the most noteworthy discovery of our age.

The King and I shall await your response eagerly.

Forever your friend,

Elrond

Celebrimbor’s notes:

Ask Narvi

Ask Elrond to get to the point at least by the third page

[a sketch of a ring]

[a sketch of Narvi unclothed]

From Celebrimbor to Narvi

My love,

Celeborn has finally taken his leave. What a strange speech he gave! Unnecessarily belligerent too if I may say so. And how long! I could have worked instead or spent time with you. I must remedy the time missed. Consider this note an invitation to dinner. I am going to have it in the forge, so we can work as well as eat.

Besides, I have a favor to ask of you. I have received several letters, all concerning the same matter. I suspect you are more knowledgeable about it than I am. Perhaps you could draft an answer and subtly remind my friends and kin how occupied with work you and I are.

However, I should ask you to explain to me first exactly what happened. The letters suggest an odd sequence of events, although amusing. But I should like to hear from your lips how you banished poor Annatar.

Is it a long story? If so, perhaps you should not wait until dinner and come to see me immediately. I have truly missed you. All of you.

Your Shorty

From High King Ereinion Gil-galad to his herald Elrond Peredhel

Greetings Elrond,

I hope you are well. I am puzzled. I have received a strange letter from Celebrimbor. It contains drawings and measurements detailing the anatomy of a Dwarf. Celebrimbor claims it can be used as a weapon. It was sent at your request. Care to explain? I am not interested in any genitals, including Dwarven. I have no idea why Celebrimbor thought it a good idea. I have little time for it.

The letter is enclosed. Do what you will with it. Please keep me uninformed.

Ereinion Gil-galad

High King of the Noldor

No notes left on the letter, but contemporaries speak of one of the loudest sighs ever uttered by Elrond Peredhel.

From Narvi in Ost-in-Edhil to King Durin III

Esteemed Sovereign,

As per your request, I am sending my regular report on the happenings in the Elven realms. Not much has changed since my last letter. My collaboration with the elf is going smoothly. The work on the Doors is nearly complete. Some Elves here remain as conceited as they have been when it comes to Dwarves, but I never fail to answer them in kind.

Celebrimbor has proven himself an excellent partner in all senses. With your permission, I would like to invite him to Khazad-dûm, so you can make sure of it yourself. I do hope he will not be too popular. I have no desire to spend my life fighting off competitors.

In related news, the sacrilegious villain I have written about in my previous letters is gone from this realm, hopefully for good. I did not want to take credit for it, but some elf-lords have realized it was my doing and are now clamoring for my advice.

My king, I find it necessary for you to know how to dispose of him too. If the elves continue denying this miscreant, he may appear before the doors of Khazad-dûm, trying to get into your good graces. Forgive my forwardness, my king, but in that case, I suggest you and your guards welcome him in the nude. I assure you the sight is guaranteed to make him flee to the shadows he has come from, never to return.

Your servant,

Narvi

#silmarillion #celebrimbor #narvi #galadriel #celeborn #elrond #silm fic #tolkienremix #zwc fic #my first fic that takes place entirely in the second age #this also passes my personal mae.dhros bechdel test

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the12thnightproject · 10 months

Text

Chapter 48: Two Degrees of Separation - Comparing notes with Sasuke and Shingen leads to more questions about the multiverse.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

“I brought these in from the car.” Sasuke slid open the door to the bedroom wide enough to pass a few shopping bags through.

“You can come in. We’re both decent.” I took the bags, noting one of them was from a high-end lingerie store. That… had the possibility of going very very wrong, in a number of ways. I dropped the bags on the foot of the bed, as Sasuke settled in a chair by the window. “You let Shingen loose in a lingerie store?”

There was a rather embarrassed cough from the ninja by the window. He looked away from us.

“I was fine. He’s the one who can’t be trusted around women’s underclothes. I may be scarred for life.” Shingen shot a glare at Sasuke, who seemed to take great interest in the parking lot outside.

“I thought it was a mannequin and not a live model,” Sasuke muttered.

“Nope. Don’t need any more details there.” Instead, I dove into the bags, finding a couple pairs of jeans, some t-shirts… “Oooh, Black Widow, nice.”

“Figured Natasha Romanov would be your jam.” Sasuke sounded more confident now that we’d left the subject of underwear.

“Oh yeah… and I’ve got about seven years of MCU to catch up on. And I don’t know how many seasons of Game of Thrones.” It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that I’d finally learn how some of these continuing stories ended.

Shingen and Sasuke looked at each other, then Sasuke shook his head. “Um… about the Game of Thrones conclusion… you might actually find the story of my adventures in ladies lingerie categorically less traumatic.”

Huh. I returned my attention to the bags and pulled out a hoodie! I hugged it to me. It was red, not the blue-grey shade of the one that I had been wearing on the day I had initially gone through the wormhole, but it was soft and warm and felt like home in a way that no other article of clothing had. “How did you know?” I slipped it on and zipped it up.

There was a tug on the hood. Shingen flipped it up over my head. “Red hood. The better to see you with.”

“Alright, Sasuke, are you ready for all the wormhole weirdness I need to tell you about?” The three of us had relocated to the living area of the hotel suite to eat lunch that Sasuke had picked up from one of the hotel’s onsite restaurants. He’d asked me if I wanted pizza, but until I was sure how my digestive system would readjust to modern food, I’d decided to stick with soba noodles and a light soup. I was wearing my first pair of jeans in nearly seven (or was it eight now?) years, and they fit surprisingly well (Shingen: “I know every inch of your body, it wasn’t difficult”).

“Before we debrief, I have something else for you.” Sasuke handed me a sealed manila envelope. He didn’t say anything else, so I went ahead and opened it, pulling out identification papers, including a passport as well as a bank card. The accompanying account information made me do a double, then a triple take to make sure I was reading the amount correctly.

“Sasuke, do you have previously unrevealed connections with the Yakuza?” I took a second look at the passport. Yes that was definitely me in the picture – it looked like my old student ID photo, had been “aged up” slightly. The birthday was correct as well. Someone clearly had skills.

“No. Not that I am aware of. This came from a Professor I know.” Sasuke glanced over my shoulder to look at the paperwork. “Holy mother forking shirtballs.”

“From your advisor? The one who arranged my hospital stay?” Shingen examined the passport. “Nice picture… but not as nice as the real thing.”

“No. Different professor. My advisor in Kyoto who helped get you into the University Hospital is Professor Sakaki. These – as well as Shingen’s papers and bank account … which did not have nearly this many zeros – came from a friend of my parents. I’m certain they have nothing to do with the Yakuza.” He laughed off the idea. “Actually, their friend, Professor Yamaoka was the man who gave the initial idea that led me to study wormholes and their relationship to temporal anomalies.”

Wait…what? Who?

“Professor Yamaoka.” I said it slowly, to confirm I had heard that correctly.

Aki, you have some ‘splaining to do.

“Yes.” Sasuke took the envelope and folded it up. There was a rattling noise within. “There appears to be something else inside.” He shook it. “Given the amount of money in your account, I can only surmise it’s a key to a safety deposit box that contains the Holy Grail.”

“The what?” Shingen apparently hadn’t worked his way up to European literature – or the Monty Python film (the latter was something I would make sure to correct before we went back to the Sengoku era).

“No.” I already knew what was rattling around in that envelope. “It will be a shogi piece. A lance… or maybe a knight.” It had better not be a pawn after all he’d put me through. I turned the envelope upside down and dumped the item onto the coffee table. It landed with a clink, spun a few times, and landed tokin side up.

The knight.

Sasuke blinked at me a few times. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been working for Yamaoka Akihira for the past seven years. Shogi is his… calling card.” I sank back into the sofa cushion. On the day he’d left me with Shingen, he’d kept his face in the shadows. Later, when I’d thought about it, I’d figured that he’d been trying to keep Shingen from seeing his face… but no… he’d been hiding from Sasuke.

A lot of explaining.

“Your old master… the man in the woods. He’s the same?” At my nod, Shingen turned to Sasuke. “You said this man is a friend of your parents?” Shingen quickly put things together, and I was sure he could tell this information had unsettled me.

“Yes… I mean, they aren’t besties, but I know he’s consulted them on history.” He picked up the tile and examined it. It was a modern tile, made out of some kind of tempered porcelain, and not one of the wooden ones we’d used when we played at The Mountain. “They might, possibly have some old photos of him that I could try to get my hands on.”

“Anything they have would be terrific. I feel like five mysteries just got solved, but five times that many new mysteries appeared.” Popping in and out of time would explain Aki’s many disappearing acts. But why had he never told me he was a fellow time traveler? Why had he never sent me home? And what was he doing in the Sengoku era to begin with? ‘Putting things on the right path’ seemed a lot more ominous now that I knew he was from the future. “Can they scan what they have and upload it to the cloud?”

Sasuke shook his head. “They’re mysteriously attached to paper. The last time I tried to talk my father through attaching a file, he emailed me his entire hard drive and crashed my laptop.”

I put the questions about Aki aside for the moment. Possibly Sasuke and Shingen, once I told them about my detour into another timeline, might be able to help put the pieces together when it came to Aki’s involvement. “Sasuke, remember when you said you thought Togakushi might lead to a different timeline than this?”

“Theoretically, yes, though I suppose since you made it here, that must not have been the case.” He was typing up notes on a tablet faster than I’d ever seen anyone type before. He glanced up and caught the expression on my face. “Ninja fingertips. I didn’t used to be able to type this fast.”

I led him back to the topic. “Yeah, about that. My trip through the wormhole was not like the original trip. I felt like I sort of… well, stuck.” And even though I was trying to be so totally blasé, like, ‘oh yeah, I got trapped in a temporal anomaly, NBD,’ I could feel my lungs tighten at the memory of the feeling of that fog sifting through my body. Shingen put his hand on my shoulder and gave me an encouraging squeeze. Yeah… he could tell I was upset.

“Given that the passage of months here and according to Yuki, in the Sengoku, was the same, you may actually have been stuck in there a year.” Right, Sasuke had gone back and for the between here and the Sengoku while I was missing. “But you didn’t experience that physically – or that wound on your arm would have healed completely – and you’d have starved to death.”

“Thanks Sasuke.” That time I did shudder. And the mental experience had been unsettling enough without throwing in starvation. “When I did come out of the wormhole, I was told I was in the wrong timeline.”

Sasuke stopped typing. He looked like he was trying not to bounce up and down on the couch. “Do you know what this means?” He hurried on before either of us could respond. “Proof that the timelines are connected to a multiverse. Who told you that you were in the wrong timeline?”

“You did.”

“I did? I did! That is… that is frakking awesome!” He pumped his fist, then bent over his tablet and did that supersonic speed typing again. “What did I say?”

Shingen and I looked at each other, exchanged a silent mental shrug, then back at Sasuke.

“You… or I guess technically Sasuke Mach 2, looked surprised to see me, and I asked you where Shingen was, and that’s when you – he said I was in the wrong timeline.” While Sasuke seemed to be having his nerdgasm, I glanced at Shingen to see how he took that. Aside from holding me even tighter, he appeared to be following along fairly well.

Sasuke continued to fire questions at me faster than I could process them. “Were you still at the Togakushi shrine? Were you in present time or the future of that time? What was I wearing? Did I have any cool tech? Did anything unusual happen before you got stuck?”

“Yes. Present, as far as I could tell. A parka. A cell phone – I think it was a cell phone. And…” Right before I got stuck Iekane had pushed me and told me… wait, before that. In my head, I rewound things back to when I was in the tree. “Shingen, have you ever heard the phrase don’t bring a knife to a gun fight?”

He pondered for a moment. “No. However it makes sense.”

I turned to Sasuke who was already typing into his tablet. “Yes, but not sure… ah. The Untouchables. 1987.”

“I’m pretty sure Iekane was already familiar with wormholes… and has been to the present before… in fact… he said… ‘I came here with him’ … him being Aki. I thought he meant he was with Aki before Aki based himself on the Mountain. But he could have meant that he came from this time with Aki.” Before Sasuke could ask more questions, I told my story from the moment Yuki and I had spotted Iekane. “Iekane looked happy to have gotten into the wormhole. If what Sasuke Mach 2 told me is true, maybe Iekane is the one who is messing up the timelines.”

“It wasn’t this Sasuke who talked to me at the flood site?” Shingen stared at Sasuke, as if he were trying to determine what was different about the other version of him. “I do remember thinking something was strange about you, but after all that happened, I’d put it out of my head once he said a child had fallen into the water.”

Pushed. The child was pushed. The boy… what was his name? His father had said it, hadn’t he? I tried to put myself back into that moment, but my thoughts were interrupted by Sasuke.

“Huh. I wonder how I travelled there without a wormhole… no wait, you said I told you that getting back here was ‘lateral jump’.” Sasuke turned his tablet into a sketch pad and began drawing some kind of schematic. “That would mean we could jump between different points in the multiverse, and-”

“Sasuke!” He looked up me, started by my tone. “You told me not to let you investigate. It sounded like getting me here stabilized this timeline. Maybe we should do as little interfering as possible.” For my part, once I was back in the Sengoku, I was going to stay as far from the wormhole nodes as possible.

“Agreed, Devil.” Shingen pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “The wormhole stole you from me once. I do not intend to let it happen again.”

“Investigating is not interfering.” Sasuke pointed out.

“Sasuke. I know you. You wouldn’t be able to resist poking around in alternate timelines… but, from what I can tell from the conversation I overheard,” I decided not to mention that I was pretty sure Sasuke Mach 2 had been talking with Katsuko Mach 2, “there’s a timeline where Kenshin is running around modern Toyko, causing all sorts of mayhem.”

Both Shingen and Sasuke were silent at that.

In fact, Sasuke literally turned pale.

Sasuke erased the schematic he’d begun to sketch on his tablet. “New plan. We stick to this timeline, and only use the wormhole to go back to the Sengoku era when it reopens – which should be in about three months.”

“That sounds like an excellent strategy,” Shingen said.

@bestbryn

#tbt12lies #throwback thursday #twelve lies i told shingen takeda #ikemen sengoku #fanfiction #shingen takeda #ikesen shingen #ikesen sasuke #fanfic #ikesen fanfic

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windupnamazu · 8 months

Text

walking around on those—what do you call 'em?

ffxivwrite2023 #18: fish out of water a person away from their usual environment or activities.

Lunya/G'raha and @hqmillioncorn's Cherrypit and Babycorn. Aquarium AU. 740wc. ⮞ Up where they walk, up where they run, up where they're just trying to leave their workplace so they can go on a date but you're like six and too cute to ignore—

G'raha pushed himself off the wall outside the staff room entrance when Lunya emerged, her still-damp hair deftly pulled into a high ponytail and glowing with the satisfaction of a good day at work. He waited until she finished rummaging through her purse before he spoke up.

"Great work today, Lunya," he said, unable and unwilling to disguise his affection for her in his voice, and when Lunya's head snapped up he was nearly blinded by her sunbright smile beneath the aquarium lights.

"Raha!" she exclaimed, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear in an uncharacteristic but all-too-endearingly shy move. "Hehe, ready to—hm?"

Lunya glanced behind her. There was a Lalafellin boy who couldn't be more than six or seven years old tugging at her sleeve, blue eyes practically sparkling as he peered up at her.

"Miss Mermaid," the little boy said in awe.

"Oh!" Lunya gasped in delight and G'raha felt his knees go weak. She placed her index finger to her lips and shushed the child. "You can't tell anyone! It's a secret that I have a human form!"

"Oh!" the boy echoed excitedly, miming her gesture. "Secret! Okay!"

Bending her knees slightly so she was at eye level with him, Lunya asked, "What's your name, sweetheart? Where's your adult?"

"I'm Cherry!" Cherry said proudly, and then he looked around. "Um… Bebe…" He turned and pointed down the hall. "Gift shop! Bebe's in the gift shop!"

Lunya looked up at G'raha with a sheepish smile that was so bleeding cute that if there wasn't a grade-schooler clinging to her he probably could have kissed her then and there. "Do you mind?"

Swallowing his adoration, he shook his head. "Of course not, Miss Mermaid." He ahem'd and raised his voice. "Come along, Sir Cherrypit," he said boldly. "We must set out on a quest to find your Bebe!"

Cherrypit squealed with joy, clapping even as he said, "Who're you, mister?"

"Do you know the story of the Little Mermaid?" he asked. When Cherry bobbed his head, ponytail bobbing with him, G'raha grinned. "I'm the Human Prince who the Mermaid gave up her tail for."

The little boy gasped. Unable to contain his glee he bounced up and down while still attached to Lunya's arm, his light-up sneakers going absolutely wild.

"Raha," Lunya sighed, cheeks tinged pink, but she didn't actually protest and it only made G'raha's grin grow further. "Very well, my prince—let's return this little fish to his school together." She took one step forward and nearly tripped, grabbing G'raha's arm as she stumbled, but instead of panicking like he almost did she simply looked back and winked at Cherry. "Ah, sorry!" she said with a giggle as he looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm still getting used to having legs!"

Taking one of Cherry's little hands in her own 'for support', the three of them navigated through the aquarium to the gift shop. There they found a Lalafellin girl around Lunya's age pacing back and forth by the plushies, looking under every table and digging through piles of plush dolphins and penguins and sea lions.

"Bebe!" Cherry called.

"Cherry!" the girl wailed when she saw them, dropping a plush urchin back onto its display to dash over to them. "You can't just wander away like that! What if something bad happened?! What if a fish ate you?!?! What would I tell Mama and Papa?!?!?!"

G'raha had a feeling that it would be very hard to argue with this girl about it being difficult to get eaten by a fish in the Waking Sands Aquarium, so he wisely kept quiet as Cherry comfortingly patted his sister's hand.

"I won't do it again! Look, I found Lady Miss Mermaid and her Human Prince!"

"Woah, that's amazing, Cherry! We really liked your show!" 'Bebe' gushed before she looked down and squinted skeptically at Lunya's legs. "You're definitely not half-fish right now, though, right..?"

"I'm most definitely human right now," Lunya said amusedly, winking at Cherry. "But you promise to keep my secret, right, Cherry?"

"Yeah!" Cherry cheered. "Thanks for saving me, Miss Mermaid, Mister Prince!"

As the two siblings waved goodbye, Lunya looked up at G'raha.

"Shall we go for dinner now, Mister Prince?" she asked teasingly.

"Of course, Miss Mermaid," G'raha said with a wide smile, taking her hand in his own as they left the aquarium together. "Probably not sushi tonight, though."

"Heh, probably not!"

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #oc: lunya #g'raha tia #s: let me find you #babycorn #cherrypit #tales from the warriors of light #aquarium au placeholder tag

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lutiaslayton · 7 months

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Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　０９

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ Puzzle n°002

Contrary to the first puzzle, the remaining contestants did not immediately leave. They stood still, sometimes glancing at each other, as if probing each other’s movements.

“The largest crown…”

This mutter had come from a girl whose golden hair was tied up with a ribbon. She looked to be around the age of a high schooler. Aside from me, I was certain that she had to be the youngest among the participants.

“It appears that the organiser of this game likes to gather people around in the same place…” an old captain mused to himself. I remembered seeing him on the deck earlier.

The gorgeous lady who had also been on the deck took over the conversation.

“The ship is decorated with quite a few crowns here and there… It will be difficult to compare all their sizes within the time limit.”

“Then this means that the crowns on display are…”

“…all decoys to mislead us?”

Just a few instants before, we had heard once again the screams of the other contestants. A heavy atmosphere seemed to flow among those who remained in the hall, as everyone wanted to hear a little bit of the others’ opinions…

Was it a sense of solidarity? Or perhaps, on the contrary, they were probing each other in an attempt to assess their ulterior motives… It was probably the latter.

After all, only one person could win and gain eternal life.

“Professor, can you solve the puzzle this time?”

Janice was also anxious.

Alright, I would figure it out this time, and I would let her win the game.

“Well…” The professor was about to answer her question, but I decided to interrupt him.

“Professor, I’ll take care of this one!”

Both Janice and him looked a little surprised at my enthusiasm.

“Luke…?”

She remembered my name! That alone made me a little happier.

“It’s all right, Janice! After all, I’m the professor’s ‘apprentice number one’!”

I proudly flashed my pointing finger in the air as hard as I could. When she saw this, she started giggling… That too made me happy. I did not mind looking like a clown if it could make her smile.

“You have a very reliable apprentice,” she told the professor with an amused tone.

Alright, I could not afford to fail this puzzle. I immediately opened my notebook and drew a picture of a crown.

“The biggest crown…” I mumbled while thinking. “A crown… crown…”

The voice telling the puzzle came back to my mind.

Ladies and gentlemen, are you enjoying your ride on the Crown Petone?

“That’s it!” I had just been struck with a flash of inspiration. “We are now on the Crown Petone!”

“Well done, boy!”

Those words from the man with the hat and beard took me by surprise. I was so focused on solving the puzzle that I had completely forgotten about the many people that were standing around me.

The man in the hat made a short run for the door.

“If I remember correctly, the entrance to this theatre had a sign in the shape of a large crown, with the words ‘Crown Petone’ written on it!”

“Oh yes, it was a fairly large crown!”

“That’s it! It has to be!”

Everyone in the hall rushed to the exit.

They had all listened to my reasoning. With this, I would let Janice win! I was so proud of myself.

“Professor, we should go too!”

The professor was smiling. “Indeed we should, Luke.”

The three of us were the last ones to leave the theatre.

But as we walked down the corridor, I became more and more worried… The people who had left for the entrance were nowhere to be seen.

Janice would also turn her head and look behind us in search for other people, so she surely felt the same.

“Have they all made it to the entrance already?”

The professor did not answer.

Janice informed in a reserved whisper: “But… isn’t the entrance the other way around?”

What!?

“Professor, we must have taken a wrong turn! We have to go back!”

But as usual, he remained perfectly calm.

“This way is fine, Luke.”

“But…”

“The sign on the entrance is also a red herring.”

I widened my eyes in confusion, mouth agape.

“The ship was decorated with crowns all over, making everyone believe that they were decoys, and inciting them to go to the entrance,” he explained. “But… This is not the right answer either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only one person can gain eternal life. These puzzles should not be too easy, otherwise everybody would be able to get them right…”

The professor continued to unravel his reasoning matter-of-factly.

“…And here is the clever part: after solving the first puzzle correctly, we had all been gathered in one room. So naturally, when the second puzzle had a similar wording as the first, we would tend to assume that the next puzzle would follow the same pattern.”

“Professor, I’m getting a bit confused now…”

“It’s alright. You will see soon…”

Suddenly, the professor stopped. We were just in front of a door that led to the deck. He opened the door and encouraged me to come out first.

As I walked out, I saw a row of suspended lifeboats. Several people were cooperating, trying to lower them into the sea.

There were the old captain, the girl who had blonde hair tied up in a ribbon, the gorgeous woman and the muscular man who looked like an athlete, that we had seen earlier… Then there was an explorer-looking man with a big backpack…

The lifeboat that the explorer was trying to lower suddenly lost its balance significantly.

“Whoops, be careful there. May I…?”

The old captain went to his rescue and took the reins, showing him how to handle the rope.

“Huh, you’re doing it so easily.” The explorer man was gazing in admiration.

“I’m the captain of a trading ship, I have devoted my entire life to this. The name is O’Donnell,” the old man said while quickly tilting his hat. “But, we should hurry and keep the chat for later.”

I looked around, seeing other people having similar interactions. What on Earth were they all up to? My mind was completely at a loss.

Janice went past me and approached a lifeboat too.

“Mr Whistler,” she called out.

“Janice,” he responded in a breath.

It was only upon hearing their voices that I realised… Mr Whistler and a little blonde girl were there too.

The little girl’s straight hair, parted down the middle, looked just like Melina’s photo from the brochure. Maybe this was the girl from the letter who had claimed that… she had eternal life?

When she saw the professor approaching, she fidgeted and quickly hid behind Mr Whistler’s back. Before the professor could say anything, Mr Whistler introduced her:

“This is my adopted daughter, Melina.”

The professor remained silent, staring at the girl. So she was named Melina too…

From behind us, a voice rang out with disdain.

“Tsh. So you solved the puzzle too, after all.” It was the man in the hat.

“Indeed.”

The professor smiled at him. Even when addressing disrespectful people, he was never going to be rude. After all, of course, that’s what a gentleman should do.

Still, what was that man talking about? I thought he was the one who had praised me earlier for solving it!

“Ugh. Great, even more competitors.”

That was the man who seemed to be an athlete. He also sounded extremely annoyed.

Everything made even less sense than before. Everyone else obviously knew what was going on, and I seemed to be the only one left in the dark…

I couldn’t help but tell the man in the hat what I thought. “But— You were the one who said earlier that the sign at the entrance was the right answer!”

“Tss. I want eternal life, boy, so I tricked those idiots. And I had to act quickly too, before you’d start spouting even more hints…”

“Spouting hints…?”

I really was completely clueless. I had no idea what was going on anymore.

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

#professor layton #layton's book club #luke triton #hershel layton #janice quatlane #eternal diva #eternal diva novel #translation #professor layton and the eternal diva #imagine if a small group of these guys decided to take a lifeboat and just. bail.#they're motorised so Des would likely just either force the boat to do a 180 and go to Ambrosia or go “So you chose death” on them #but the contestants don't know that yet #also sending that one (1) lifeboat in a different direction than all the others and have it follow the second submarine by that point #would likely be more troublesome than it's worth

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pointer-finger · 9 months

Text

Potion

Here's my contribution to the #PhoneixFlareWeekly prompt- Potion!

I just love these two so much 😭❤️

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

“It must be perfect!”

“Aye, I know!” exclaimed Mid. “You’ve only said it a hundred times already!”

Joshua handed her a piece of parchment. Scrawled on the aging page were notes for an old Sanbreqois potion. “Are you certain you can recreate it? It must be exact.”

Mid looked up from the paper and gave him a look that could make a Coeurl cower. “I’ve made my share of potions, birdie boy. Of course I can recreate it.” Her eyes returned to the page. “Doesn’t appear too difficult. What’s it for anyway?”

Joshua hesitated. “It’s for his highness. Prince Dion.” Dion was still laying in The Hideaway’s makeshift infirmary. He had sustained terrible wounds during the battle over Twinside and had yet to wake. “Master Harpocrates had it in his records.”

“Make the poor Prince spring back to life, will it?” She thought for a moment and her face suddenly lost its playfulness. “If it were me that did what he did, I wouldn’t want to wake up.”

“Dion was not himself, Mid. It was Ultima’s influence that drove him mad that day.” Joshua motioned to the recipe. “The potion will not wake him but, when he does, it’s supposed to… ease some of the pain. Both on his body and, hopefully, his mind.”

Mid nodded. “I’ll do me best, then! You can count on me, Joshua.”

“Thank you, Mid,” he said with a smile. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Joshua made his way back toward the infirmary. The sun was beginning to set as Tarja was sitting at her desk. Three books were open in front of her, each with various illustrations of medicinal plants. She lit a candle as Joshua approached.

“Any changes?” he asked as he crossed the small space. Several beds dotted each wall. All were empty.

“You mean since you asked an hour ago?” She glanced over to the doorway leading to Dion’s room. “None,” she said with a sigh. “The Prince will awaken when he’s ready, Joshua. Give him time.”

Joshua looked down, a feeling of embarrassment rising in him. “I know. Apologies, Lady Tarja. I suppose I am just eager to see him well.”

“We all are,” she said, with a warmth that surprised him.

“Would it be alright if I sat with him?” he asked.

Tarja smiled. “Of course, Joshua. As always.”

Dion looked exactly as Joshua had left him. The toll their battle had taken on the Prince was evident everywhere but his face. Much of his torso was covered in bandages yet, in his sleep, Dion looked almost peaceful.

What do you dream of, Your Highness? Is it a nightmare?

Joshua took a seat in the chair beside Dion’s bed. He had become quite comfortable with it in the days since his own recovery. He wanted to be there when Dion woke up. Joshua was not sure why, but he felt a connection to Dion. One that has lasted since their first meeting so many years ago at Rosalith Castle for the Remembrance Ceremony.

Despite being in hiding for much of his life, tales of Bahamut and his unshakable Dominant had reached Joshua many times. A fierce fighter with unmatched bravery and determination with a compassionate heart filled with love for his people. The Prince of Sanbreque seemed like a fairy tale. What a relief it was to discover all of it was true.

It was difficult for Joshua to see Dion this way, to feel so powerless.

Perhaps a second attempt? Joshua thought. He stood and walked over the edge of Dion’s bed and knelt beside the prince.He raised his hand and a spark of flame ignited at the center of his palm. The flame flickered and grew until it began to morph, enveloping Joshua's entire hand.

Please work.

Joshua rested his palm upon Dion’s chest. His hand rose and fell with every breath the Prince took. He felt the beat of his heart, as strong and resilient as the Eikon he embodied. Joshua watched as the flames slowly spread across his torso only to fade as the Phoenix’s magick disappeared within.

A few moments passed. Nothing changed.

Joshua stood and sighed. “Perhaps Mid has finished your potion, your Highness. I shall be but a moment.”

“There he is!” Mid was waving a bottle in her hand as Joshua approached. “Like I said, it’s perfect! You’re welcome.”

“Be gentle!!” Joshua said as he carefully took the bottle from her. “Are you sure?”

Mid raised her fist and shoved it into his shoulder. The pain was immediate. “Point taken. Thank you, Mid.”

Mid shrugged. “It’s nothing, Birdie. Hope you get a chance to give it to the poor bastard.”

Joshua had made it half way back to the infirmary when he heard Tarja yelling. “Joshua! Joshua!” She came running out of the door and, upon seeing Joshua, said “It’s Prince Dion! He’s awake! Hurry!”

The Prince, indeed, was awake. While still in bed, he was sitting up and when Joshua entered the room, a small smile appeared. “Phoenix,” he said weakly.

Joshua ran to his side, setting the potion on the table next to them. “Your Highness! How do you feel?” Joshua felt an overwhelming sense of excitement and joy.

Dion closed his eyes briefly, an expression of pain on his face. “Terrible.”

Joshua reached for the potion. “Perhaps this will help!” he said, uncorking the bottle.

“What is it?” Dion asked.

“It’s a Sanbreqois healing potion. I searched Master Harpocrates’s records for the recipe. It took hours to locate but I thought it could help you.”

Dion hesitated as he looked at the bottle. His eyes returned to Joshua as he said, “If you wish.” He took the bottle and drank until it was empty.

“Well?” Joshua asked, impatiently. “How is it?”

Dion smiled again. “You did well, Phoenix. I am transported to my youth, once more.” he said with a laugh. “Master Harpocrates administered these potions to me almost every week.”

Joshua rested his hand on Dion’s arm. “I’m glad that you are alright, Your Highness.”

Dion laid his own hand atop Joshua’s. “It seems that I might spend the rest of my life ever in your debt, Phoenix,” he said softly. “A prospect I am not entirely unsatisfied with, I think.”

“You still owe me a flight, remember?” Joshua replied playfully. “Preferably one where you’re not trying to kill me.”

For the first time in weeks, laughter was heard at The Hideaway.

#PhoenixFlare #PhoenixFlareWeekly #Joshua Rosfield #Dion Lesage

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scaraberri · 1 year

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Celestial Symphony

[01: UNEXPECTED VISITOR]

Scaramouche x fem!reader

word count: 2k~3k

Note: so sorry this is soo late i wanted to post this at Tuesday but I really did choose the worst time to write this considering exams are coming up, but I will try to write through the week since I really did enjoy writing this so I hope you enjoy.

*how did I get here...* Those words repeated in your head while you mindlessly lay on top of a fancy bed, staring at the ceiling.

It had been exactly two weeks since that morning, it was meant to be a normal day no one expected Ayato to visit.

~~ "Mom what's going on-"

You stopped at the doorway behind your mother. You were expecting to see your mother yelling at yet a other door to door seller, What you didn't expect was to see the head of the Kamisato house getting a scolding by you mother.

"Leave!"

"Please calm down ma'am I just want to talk to-"

"Did you not hear what I said, Leave Now!"

you held your mother's hand as an attempt to make her stop only for her to turn on her heel and glare at you.

"(n/n) Back to your room!"

"Mom. What if its something important..." "Let's just hear him out ,ok"

She stares at you before finally letting out long sigh.

"...fine"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Your mother sets the brewed tea on the table, a little harshly. She finally sits down and starts the conversation.

"So. What was Soo important that you the head of the kamisato house had personally come see a poor commoner like me?"

"Actually I'm not here to talk you, I'm here to talk to [Name]""It's...Regarding her father"

"What? Did that old bastard finally die?"

"Mom!"

Ayato quietly sighs "No but the situation isn't any better...."

"The Duke's Son recently...Passed and the duchess is too weak to carry another baby...so"

"SO?"

"The Duke wants to have [Name] as his heir"

It was silence from there. No matter how much your mother protested it wouldn't matter because Ayato was only there to deliver the message. Even if you didn't want to, You didn't have a choice , the decision was already made.

. .. …

So here we are at the present. The sound of the door opening break's you out of your train of thoughts. A maid entered your room, She had silver hair and green eyes, You can't help but feel like you saw her before.

"Good evening my lady. My name is Noelle, I'll be your personal maid from today onwards "

"Noelle" "Wait haven't I heard that name before?"

"Aren't you the helper maid from the knights everyone talk about"

"Ah- Yes"

. .. …

'Well this is awkward'

"oh you must get tired standing there, come sit." You patted the spot beside you, hoping to start at least a small conversation

"Is it...really alright"

"Of course"

You and Noelle start to converse, although she was a bit shy at first, she soon got use to talking to you(considering your close at age)

"So the name 'helper maid' was just some little nickname I earned"

"That Soo cute" "But its an honorable name, Not many people come to help the commoners"

"Don't say that, I myself am a commoner so it feels like a duty of mine to help them."

"Say my lady may I ask you a question"

"(n/n) is fine, but sure"

"I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But your a commoner too so how did you end here"

"That's...Well" You stutter not knowing if its OK to tell someone you just met. Then again, finally telling someone would be nice, especially now that it looks like you'll be stuck here for the rest of your life. Besides Noelle seems like a good person.

It was a difficult life since birth. You were born into the dutchy 'as an accident'. Your mother a maid, a commoner, while your father a Duke, a nobleman. You were nothing but an illegitimate child. Something that should stay in the dark. Since your birth your mother was shamed for what she had done. But when the duchess found out You and your mother were kicked out.

"Now that the Duke's heir is....um...gone they want me to be his heir"

"That's...wow. This is the first time I've heard of this"

"Of course, they took care of everything I needed until I was twelve, it was a deal to keep our mouths shut"

"Oh so I assume the Duke son didn't like you"

"Quite the opposite, he some how found out and kept visiting, I guess he was like an older brother to me. It was also because of him that I made friend with a few noble kids"

"Seems you two were close"

"Yeah he would visit us daily and bring gifts with him at least until.."

"Until?"

"Until his mother found out, She didn't like me from the beginning"

"Do you miss him?"

"Honestly I don't know what i feel"

"Well no matter what you feel its in the past so from now on you can think of me as your friend, of course if you want to my lady"

"I'd love that" . .. … It had been a few months since you moved into the manor. Life is surprisingly easy. You and your 'Step' mother are still at odds, You were given an etiquette teacher. Miss Eula (who was chosen specifically decided by the duchess)

Today was suppose to go something like this. You would wake up, get dressed and leave for breakfast after that you'll be joining Ms. Eula for various etiquette lessons, after that we'll you aren't to sure. Noelle would handle your schedules, so as far as you know any day could be a surprise.

You were woken up by the sound of the door opening and footsteps, you immediately knew who it was.

"Good morning my lady"

"Good morning Noelle" you say through a yawn "Did you get my schedule"

"Yes, first is breakfast and then etiquette lesson with lady Eula, and then...you have a request to visit the Royal garden"

… "huh"

"An invitation to visit the Royal garden"

"Can I... decline"

"You can't my lady"

"Gosh why call it a request if you can't even decline" you mumble." you'll come with me right Noelle"

"Of course its my job my lady, I'm sure lady Eula will be there too considering she's from the Lawrence clan"

"Oh thank god and can you stop calling me my lady, I have you permission to call me by my nickname".

"Sure (n/n) but only when we're alone, the head maid would kill me if she catches me calling you that"

"Ok, now let's get this day over with"

"Already looking forward to bedtime"

"Always!"

You head down for breakfast, through the grand halls filled with paintings and vases, Although it was gorgeous it always brought you anxiousness, by the time you reach the dining table your father the grand duke and your step mother the duchess are already there. You silently sit at your seat (right across from the duchess).

Breakfast was always awkward, but you would have it no other way. You would much rather stay quiet than actually try and talk to these two. Especially with the fact that the duchess was staring daggers into your skull. Either way you finish your break fast and leave for your etiquette classes.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

You walk through the flower fields and towards a silver pavilion stationed at the center. This is were your etiquette classes take place.

When the duke raised the idea of etiquette classes, the duchess immediately took the opportunity to introduce Lady Eula as a potential mentor for you. You knew that this was just a way for her to make your life a living hell. Lady Eula was one of the duchesses closet friends, she constantly bad mouthed you so generally they had a bad image of you. But what she didn't expect was for the two of you to form a friendship. It irritated her.

you sit down on the little bench placed in the pavilion while you wait for your teacher.

you remember the first day that you had to meet Lady Eula, you were scared to your core. You had begged Noelle to come with you even though it wasn't necessary, You were just scared of her considering you've heard of her strict behavior. But surprisingly she was quite an interesting character, she was extremely sweet but maybe its her tone that makes people think she was crazy.

The sudden clash of a claymore hitting the stone ground breaks you from your train of thoughts. but your fear is short lived when you see the blue haired female you've been waiting for.

''Can you ever enter like a normal person"

"What do you mean, I do enter like any sane person you just don't understand how noble people enter"

"OH! so I suppose that any sane person jumps from the top of the pavilion charging they're weapon towards the floor only to make the most infuriating sound that the bystander has ever hear!?"

"'infuriating'...good one"

"thank you I've been practicing"

The blue haired woman looks around before asking "Is Noelle not attending"

"All the servants were summoned by the head maid, something about a visitor"

"Well be prepared, I'll be teaching you about status today"

"a change in topic's, is this about that invitation"

"precisely, Look as much as I am impressed with the progress you've made you still lack a lot"

"and I don't want a student of mine to just waltz in there and make a fool of themselves"

"thank you Eula"

"No need to thank me, after all I am your mentor, also what did I tell you about calling me by my name, if you insist on calling me Eula at least call me Miss Eula but don't call me Madam Eula because that would make me sound old"

"Yes miss Eula"

…

"wait wait WAIT, this is duchess gunhilder right"

you've been memorizing the faces of noble's that probably will never meet with Eula. although its not necessary Eula says its best if something were to happen

Eula sigh's "no no that's her daughter jean"

All the different names and titles were making your head spin, It was enough to make someone have a concussion.

"who even names they're kid jean" that earned you hard smack in the head with a book.

"How in archons name have you survived this long with no manners" Eula say's pinching the bridge of her nose. The fact that you've been doing this for hours, failing again and again was so tiering it even made Eula lose all class.

you let out a dramatic gasp as you fought back "I HAVE MANNERS"

Eula with a dead pan face says "sure"

"so far you've only been able memorize a few names, impressive for that gold fish brain of yours , but I suppose its good enough, besides you'll be with me half the time"

"well see you later, don't be late"

"Yes miss Eula"

you sit there processing all the information that you have just heard while you watch Eula pick up her claymore dash off. you look up at the sky noticing how you started when the sky bright and now it was painted in orange to a dark blue.

you slowly pick yourself up as you drag yourself back to the manor. your lucky great that there's still a few hours left until you have to visit the royal gardens, so you can get a few hours of good sleep.

when you reach your room you see Noelle making your bed. "oh my lady your back"

"Hi Noelle" you say in a sleepy tone.

"I've already prepared a bath for you My lad- I mean (n/n)"

"Thank you Noelle your the best"

"my pleasure"

…

~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"My lady! my lady! wake up!"

"uhh..is it time already"

"Almost, well you told me to wake you up 30 minutes earlier"

"Right, I guess no- I suppose we should get ready"

Noelle chuckles" were you practicing in your sleep (n/n)"

"you can never be too prepared"

"Alright my lady lets get you ready"

...

You walk into the dressing room as Noelle helps you put on the chosen dress.

"say I heard this dress was a gift"

"a gift? for who?"

"for you, my lady"

"who on earth would gift me a dress"

"apparently it was close friend of the dukes, but he seemed closer to your age"

"was he the visitor"

"yes, I couldn't hear the conversation myself but a few of the maid's serving them said he was quite handsome"

"I still don't get it why someone would gift me a dress"

"perhaps a childhood friend?"

"I don't remember any "

"well you may not remember but he certainty does"

by now Noelle was helping you tie a few ribbons on the dress, it was a pretty dress you yourself have to admit, it was covered with fabric roses and pearls you couldn't quite explain it, but it looked something like this.

Noelle finishes tying the ribbon, she stands up and takes a step back. she covers her mouth as he lets out what you make out to be a squeal.

"is everything ok?"

"everything's fine, it's just you- your just so gorgeous"

indeed you were, who ever bought you this dress had taken and lot of thought and time. it perfectly fit with your complexion. if anyone were to even glance at you they would have mistaken you for an angel. (yes I'm complementing you)

"I still don't know who would gift me a dress"

"well maybe you'll see them tonight, i mean there are going to be a handful of noble's there"

"maybe your right"

"you know you really do look pretty in this dress, I'm sure plenty of men will fall in love with you"

"let's hope not, bedside's you sound really excited "

"I cant exactly explain the feeling, but what I do know is that its a good feeling"

Noelle finishes braiding and tying you hair "alright all done, don't you think you look beautiful"

you looked at your reflection in the mirror, she's right you really are beautiful (yes I'm complimenting you again). but you were too busy thinking who would even think of sending you it in the first place.

...

You gaze outside the window, putting your full attention to the nicely decorated streets, you wonder if they have so much money to make fancy streetlights then don't they have enough to make the commoners life easier. It's not like the commoners have a hard life, you would think that nobles would have the time of their lives, while commoners had to do anything to survive but I was quite the opposite people at the bottom of the chain actually look out for one another, while the noble seems to hate everyone and everything that surrounds them, of course its not true for everybody.

the carriage take a halt, which indicates that you've reached your destination. Noelle leaves the carriage and help you get off as well. You enter the royal gardens, with Noelle following behind you.

"boy it sure is crowded in here" you whisper

"it is, but maybe its best if you don't talk like that my lady" she whispers back.

you scan through the large crowd, searching for Eula. When you do find you immediately rush to her side.

"Your quite early"

"did you think I would late"

she rolled her eye's as she started a conversation with you, you would think it would be hard considering you have to be on your best behavior, but since Eula was there you felt much more at ease.

"Lady Eula"

"Yes"

"Why do I feel like this whole party was just a set up for me"

"what do you mean?"

"well first it was an invitation, then there was some guest, then i was sent this dress, and now"

"now?"

"I feel like someone's staring at me"

"you aren't the only one you thinks that, I found it uncanny how an invitation was sent right after your title was made public. although it could be nothing we cant exactly be certain."

"its probably nothing, maybe I'm just being paranoid"

"perhaps, care to join me on a stroll through the garden" Eula extends her hand

"Gladly, can Noelle come to?"

"of course"

you take Eula's hand as you three walk deeper into the garden, but you weren't wrong about someone staring at you, there were indeed a pair of indigo eyes staring at every step you took

Main Masterlist

#scaramouche x y/n #scaramouch x reader fluff #scarmouche x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader fluff #im too tired to hastag

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orthodoxydaily · 5 months

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Sints&Reading: Monday, December 4, 2023

november 21_december 4

ENTRY INTO THE TEMPLE OF OUR MOST HOLY LADY THE THEOTOKOS AND EVER VIRGIN MARY

Particular details, reflected in the feast – on the the Great Twelve Feasts – of the Entry into the Temple of the young Jerusalem Maiden Maria – the Living Temple, destined to be the New House of God (similarly as also the circumstances of the Nativity of the Theotokos) – we find in one of the ancient memorials of faith of the Palestinian christians: in the so called Protevangelium of James (the Story of James). The study of this book, it reflected in itself the Holy Tradition, confirms that the veneration of the Mother of God was established in the early Church in no way later than the beginning of the second century.

“…The child reached the age of two, and Joachim said: “Take Her into the Temple of the Lord, as the fulfillment of the promise, which we took upon ourselves and must fulfill; in order for the Lord not to requite it from us, and that our gift would not become unacceptable to Him.” And Anna said: “Let us wait for the third year, so as not to tarry the Child with her father and mother.” And when the Child was three years old, Joachim said: “call for the pure virgin Hebrew daughters and give each of them a lamp, and let them light them, and let not the Child turn back, so that Her heart would not turn away from the House of God.” And they did so until they entered the Temple. And the priest met Her, and kissed Her, and blessed Her, saying: “The Lord God will magnify Thy name in all generations; in Thee, in the end of times, the Lord will proclaim the deliverance of the children of Israel.” (Protevangelium of James, 7:1-6; as published by Collins, London, 1980).

Further, the Story of James tells that the young Mary was led to the third step of the temple altar “and the mercy of God was poured out upon Her, and the Child danced for joy”, – on account of the unspeakable joy of meeting with the Spirit of the Lord, – in the same way as, about a decade and a half later, the child rejoiced and leapt in the womb of Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist, when the Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary, the Temple Not Made with Hands, entered the house of Zacharias and Elizabeth, the parents of the future Forerunner of the Lord (Luke 1:39-45).

Pious tradition adds that the priest, whose duty it was to serve at the time, (some sources state that it was namely Zacharias) by the revelation of God led the three year old Mary into the Holy of Holies of the Jerusalem Temple; this caused not only the people to marvel, but also the Powers of Heaven: “the angels wondered seeing the entry of the Most Pure One: how the Virgin entered the Holy of Holies with glory”. One should remember, the tradition states that the apostle James, the brother of the Lord, to whom the Story of James is ascribed, had the right to see the Holy of Holies.

The maiden Mary was raised at the Jerusalem Temple “as a dove and received food from the hands of angels” – meanwhile, the historical fact that She could have been left to live on holy mount Moriah is supported even by non-christian sources. It is known that there were built thirty three story “stone houses, spacious and beautiful… These houses had rooms for various persons: the virgins lived separately, until the time of consecration for the services to God” (I cite: S.V. Bulgakov. Handbook for the sacred church ministers. Kharkov. 1900).

It is difficult to say when exactly the feast of the Entry into the Temple became a part of the circle of the divine services of the Twelve Feasts. It is only known that the beginning of the celebration is connected with the most famous Jerusalem building of the byzantine times: the Basilica of the Most Holy Theotokos, which was erected on the Temple mount by emperor Justinian in the sixth century A.D. The ruins of this basilica, known by the name of “nea” (new) were found during the excavations in Jerusalem in the first half of the 70s. It is possible that the fourth century historian Procopius mentions “Nea”. Among other things, in the last century, Russian church writer and historian Avraam Sergeyevich Norov talked in the Holy City with the Palestinian Christians, “who to this day point to the Church of the Entry of the Theotokos, which used to be in ancient times, and attribute its building to empress Helena” (See “Travel in the Holy Land in 1835”.).

The consecration of the basilica “Nea” took place in 548 – and gradually, the annual church feast got tied with the corresponding narrative of the Story of James. Nonetheless, even one hundred years after the consecration, the ever-memorable Patriarch of Jerusalem Sophronios, speaking in one of his homilies about the life of the young Mary in the Temple, does not mention the church feast of Her Entry.

In the 638, “Nea” was converted into a mosque. The church feast was no longer celebrated. But specifically from that time, beginning with the second half of the seventh century, the service for the Entry of the Most Holy Theotokos into the Temple began to gain the features of an independent feast.

It is said that the feast came to Constantinople from Jerusalem by the efforts of St. Andrew of Crete, although there is no specific proof of that. In any case, it was specifically at that time that the Patriarch of Constantinople, Herman I, dedicated two homilies to the Entry. It was said in them that the festive Entry services appeared very recently. The homilies of Patriarch Herman are dated in the beginning of the eighth century, and in the next century, stichera of the feast, which are sung to this day, were written by St. Gregory of Nicomedia.

It is curious that the Greek Orthodox Encyclopedia mentions, without any details, some depiction of the young Theotokos, praying on the Temple mount, the depiction being located somewhere in Rome; it is dated in the fifth century.

“The Virgin openly appears in the temple of God and proclaims Christ unto all”, – is said in the troparion of the Entry. “And the entire house of Israel loved Her”, – is said in the Story of James. Yet this is only the preparation for the incarnation of Christ, and today She, the three year old, without turning back, with wondrous ease runs up the high steps to the very altar, – and from this day of the Entry the Church, on the journey to meet the Nativity of Christ, begins to sing: “Christ is born, glorify…”.

Source: Russian Orthodox Church Abroad_ Montreal and Canadian Diocese

HEBREWS 9:1-7

1 Then indeed, even the first covenant had ordinances of divine service and the earthly sanctuary. 2 For a tabernacle was prepared: the first part, in which was the lampstand, the table, and the showbread, which is called the sanctuary; 3 and behind the second veil, the part of the tabernacle which is called the Holiest of All, 4 which had the golden censer and the ark of the covenant overlaid on all sides with gold, in which were the golden pot that had the manna, Aaron's rod that budded, and the tablets of the covenant; 5 and above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat. Of these things we cannot now speak in detail. 6 Now when these things had been thus prepared, the priests always went into the first part of the tabernacle, performing the services. 7 But into the second part the high priest went alone once a year, not without blood, which he offered for himself and for the people's sins committed in ignorance;

LUKE 10:38-42; 11:27-28

38 Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. 39 And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. 40 But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me." 41 And Jesus answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. 42 But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her. 27 And it happened, as He spoke these things, that a certain woman from the crowd raised her voice and said to Him, "Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts which nursed You!" 28 But He said, "More than that, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!"

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom #virginmary

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eleerethis · 9 months

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King's Gambit - Prequel "In the Ashes 1/?"

WARNING: This story WILL contain coarse language, themes, violence, and blood.

A/N:

It's been a while since I last wrote and published anywhere, as such, I would like you to bare with me as I grind up the Wattpad ladder. :)

This is a work of Fiction. The story and the characters are my integral property and all copyright reserved. Please do not copy or reproduce the story in any form.

Summary:

"A revolutio-" "Shh- quiet! People could hear us!" "A revolution but we barely made it out alive last time!"

24 years old knights Konrad Rowley and Aedale Thorpe are prodigies of the Merodian armed forces, known at a young age for their ability and ambition among their peers. Serving the Kingdom of Merod in 5000 Before Alendry's foundation. when your king is a corrupted politician is not the easiest of things. Moreover, as time goes on, raids, banditry, and organized criminal attacks increase. Forcing the two and their companions to act and stop the criminal activity once and for all. However, this adventure might be the first step to liberate Merod from the tyranny of greed…

♠

"It's all my fault."

While the building burned down, I stood there and observed. Scarlet raging flames overran the settlement, devouring anything that dared stand in their way. Fire, fire, fire — even in the serene forest we once cheerfully strolled through. Fire in the expertly constructed wooden homes of individuals who built this now-destroyed town. Fire in this ancient location, a hidden community, hidden from the egotistical men who rule and poison our nation. From the desires of those who seek it. Hidden from the proud, the disdainful, and the clouded hearts of those who are imposing their will on everyone. Fire, fire in our hearts—fire in our young, passionate hearts; fire in our tender hearts; fire in our obstinate hearts; fire in our yearning, unbroken souls.

I ran outside what had once been a house as the scent of burning filled my lungs. If the fire hadn't already destroyed everything, it was about to. A spark was all it took to start a flame, and they were rekindling and growing stronger. The crackle was not the soothing crackle of a soft fire you might have heard while sitting in front of the fireplace.

It wasn't the crackle of a fire that a father would build with wood for his daughter to warm her up. It was not a welcomed one; it did not warm people up; rather, we all knew what it was going to do and what it meant. It meant disaster. It meant destruction. It meant punishment.

"He's doing it because of me..."

This vapor, accompanied by a gray haze, blinded you and made you feel as if you can't breathe. Now that I was outside the building, I could see the destruction- the pain my people felt.

"Arghh-" I jumped as soon as I heard the horrifying agony cry of a middle-aged man. And then two other screams followed. They were high-pitched; however, one sounded younger, more juvenile, while the other sounded like a woman in her thirties. I dared not watch the scene at first but decided to go against my feelings. She was so terrified that she shut her eyes and elevated her head while instinctively using all of her vocal cords. The lady screamed a scream I had never heard before. Fortunately, she seemed to catch no other guard's attention, but I remained hypervigilant; I kept looking frantically at my surroundings in a moment of panic. It was hardly a moment of grace; instead, you could hear the coughing of a sick voice that lacked its usual crystalline grace.

The volume of the fire around them, as well as the fragility of the cry caused by the lack of oxygen, made it difficult to hear a person's cry.

"Please! Please, not Albert, not him!" It seemed like the man's wife stabbed in his stomach was crying and screaming; the soldier pulled his sword out of his body and destroyed the lady's hope to save her husband in the process. Drenched in his blood and with sweat on his blackened face from the smoke, he tried to speak, but I couldn't hear him. All I could hear were the screams of people fighting or running all over the place, as well as what the lady was saying.

"Please! Please, let us go. You don't have to do this! Listen, we can leave and let you do what you have to do; we've done nothing wrong!" She said this as the man was slowly walking towards them. "Please... no!" she continued.

He kept walking toward them, his helmet on, his eyes unseen, but he fastened his pace; her eyes were searching frantically for some sort of exit, and her hands were behind her back, trying to protect her daughter, whom she loved like a mother loves her child.

"You don't have to do this; I have a child! Does she really have to pay the price? We didn't do anything! I swear to God!"

She continued moving backward until her left hand touched the wall behind her, and after casting a quick glance at it, she shook her head, unable to accept that her time was up. The more she tried to move backward, the more she understood she couldn't go anywhere.

"Please, please, leave us alone; whatever we did, we won't do it again! I just want my daughter to live, and you—you have a child, too, right? Please don't do this to a mother and her child, I beg you."

Her eyes were filled with tears, her body was shaking, and she had a big lump in her throat because of the emotions and the scene she just witnessed. Her words weren't making much sense, but that was understandable; her husband had been killed, and they were soon to follow.

"Any death wish?" He coldly said.

My hand was on my mouth, and my whole body was shaking—maybe not as much as the lady's, but yet, here I was, weak, standing on my weak feet with my weak and cold hands touching the cold wall.

I wouldn't, no, I couldn't let them die. Right?

...

right?

"Mommy... I'm scared.." The little brunette spoke to her mother in their very last moments.

No. I can't let this little girl die like this. I can't.

Listen here. I know you're scared, but you have to do something.

The middle-aged woman turned around before leaning towards her child, and then replied with a shaky and fake voice, her eyes watering at the mere idea of getting killed, her daughter and her, and a fake smile to top it all off, "I know, I know, darling... Just close your eyes, ok? I love you, Mira." She then proceeded to hug her as tight as she could, repeating the last four words.

I looked at the unsheathed and bloody sword, and then I placed my right hand on the sword's handle before tightening my grip.

You have to do something about it, someone has to fight for our legacy.

It's now or never.

I took a deep breath and decided to quickly clear my mind, eyes closed. I had to do something, and I couldn't let fear get the best of me. I opened them again and tried to ignore my watering eyes, I knew how to fight with a sword, and despite my tender age, I was quite good at it! I had a chance of doing it, I just had to ignore my feelings and do what I felt was right.

"Are you done?" He asked, not letting her answer and preparing his sword.

I have to do it, right now.

So I bit my lip, exhaled, and intervened.

"Hey, you!" I yelled at him with my broken and high-pitched voice, putting all my anger and determination into it.

I was going to save Mira and her mother.

#fiction #writers #my writing #war #young adult #wattpad #trauma #adventure #action #romance #friendship #tragic

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teabooksandsweets · 1 year

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A City of Bells

Chapter III — Part II

Henrietta, during lunch, had to be reproved three times by Grandmother for bolting her food. The fact was that she was in a tearing hurry to get Jocelyn to the house with the green door. Things always came back, she had learnt that morning, the spring, the sunshine that had been buried under the earth and, as she had been given to understand at Easter, dead people too. And if dead people, then why not live people? Why should not Ferranti come back? Couldn’t Uncle Jocelyn make him come back? In her dream, when she could not get inside his house, it had been Jocelyn who had opened it with a golden key.

“Oh, hurry up, Uncle Jocelyn,” she cried impatiently. The meditative way in which he was spreading butter on his biscuit was almost unbearable to watch.

Jocelyn ate a bit of biscuit very slowly and remarked sweetly that it was now a quarter to two and he did not propose leaving the house until two-thirty, as had been stated clearly at breakfast.

After lunch Grandfather went to his Chapter meeting, which had been arranged by the Dean to take place at the sleepiest hour of the day so that all the Canons should go to sleep and he should get his own way in a matter of some dispute, Grandmother to her room to rest and the rest of them to the lawn. Jocelyn and Hugh Anthony established themselves under the mulberry-tree and shared The Times between them, Hugh Anthony lying flat on his front with the cricket and Jocelyn sitting upon a deck-chair with the state of Europe. Henrietta sat on the wheelbarrow at a little distance from them, swinging her legs and suggesting at short intervals that it must be nearly half-past two now, of which remarks they took no notice whatsoever … There were times when Henrietta almost disliked men. Their capacity for silently refusing to do what you wanted them to do could be very irritating, far more so than the voluble reasons invented by a woman to account for the fact that she just did not happen to want to do it … Henrietta was of too tender an age to analyse her annoyance, she just knew she was annoyed.

But the Cathedral clock struck two-thirty at last and Jocelyn, who was at least a man of his word, rose to his feet and put his hat on.

“But I’ve not finished this cricket,” objected Hugh Anthony.

“Come along, old chap,” said Jocelyn. “You must never break your word to a lady.”

“Why not?” asked Hugh Anthony.

No one seemed to know why not and they sallied forth, Jocelyn holding the garden door open for Henrietta with as much courtesy as though she had been the Queen of England. She was at once mollified and slipped her hand into his as she walked along beside him, being careful not to tread on the cracks of the paving-stones.

“We’re going to the sweet-shop first, remember,” said Hugh Anthony.

They crossed the Green and went through the tunnel into the Market Place. The sweet-shop was on the opposite side of the Market Place from The Green Dragon and was twin sister to the one that Miss Matty kept at Cranford. Its window was as gay as a flower-bed with glass jars of coloured sweets, striped sticks of peppermint rock and families of white sugar mice and pigs with pink noses and string tails. It was kept by Martha and Mary Carroway and their niece ’Arriet Kate.

Martha was in the shop when they went in, a charming little old lady made out of Dresden china, with bright eyes that darted over Jocelyn with burning curiosity.

“Relative of Canon Fordyce?” she murmured audibly and with a worried look.

“My name is Irvin,” said Jocelyn obligingly.

“Ah! The Canon’s daughter’s son from London,” said Martha, and was happy. Torminster was one of those small cities where it is a torment to the inhabitants not to know every detail of each other’s goings-on and ancestry. It was small enough to make this knowledge possible yet big enough to make it difficult to come by, so there was great ardour in the chase.

“Now then,” said Jocelyn, “what shall we buy?”

Hugh Anthony believing in striking while the iron was hot. Uncles, he had discovered, were always filled with avuncular ardour at the beginning of their visit, but as time went on they were apt to cool a little. It might be that Jocelyn would not want to visit the sweet-shop a second time, so he felt it would be as well to lay in a stock of necessities now. He would like two pigs, he said, two mice, an ounce of bullseyes, a stick of rock and some liquorice.

“And you, Henrietta?” asked Jocelyn.

She asked modestly for some hundreds-and-thousands, which she adored. They were coloured sugar-balls the size of pins’ heads and were delicious eaten between slices of bread and butter. First you bit through the soft sponginess of the bread and then your teeth crunched gloriously into the sweet grittiness of the rainbow-coloured balls. The contrast was curiously exhilarating, adding a very special savour to life.

“Nothing else, Henrietta?” asked Jocelyn.

Henrietta shook her head. She disliked excess. Things were much more enjoyable, she thought, if you took them singly and in small quantities. Hugh Anthony could never see eye to eye with her in this.

Martha weighed out the sweets in her shiny scales, added an extra one or two in the tradition of Miss Matty, and put them into cone-shaped pink paper bags which were placed in Jocelyn’s pockets.

“Good afternoon,” he said politely and limped to the door.

Martha, in the excitement of his entry, had not noticed his limp, but now she adjusted her glasses and had a good look at it.

“The step of that bus is very treacherous,” she murmured.

Although she seemed to be making a statement there was a world of pleading in her tone and Jocelyn paused before closing the shop door to say, “I injured my leg in Africa. Good day.”

Martha gathered up her skirts and fled out of the shop to the back room beyond, where dwelt her elder sister, aged eighty-nine, with the cat and a constant supply of its offspring.

“Mary!” she cried, tripping over a basket of kittens in her excitement, “who do you think I’ve had in the shop? Canon Fordyce’s daughter’s son from London. Been telling me all about himself, he has, Mary. Turned out of the army, poor young gentleman, because of having his leg bitten by a tiger … What’ll he do now?”

“I couldn’t say, Martha, I’m sure,” said Mary in her faint, piping treble. “Was it a large tiger?”

She was a beautiful, saintly old person, with white hair curtained on either side of a transparent face. She was so thin and fragile that she could hardly be said to be there, but her figure was given solidity by the fact that she wore, one over the other, out of affection for the dead, every single one of the petticoats once owned by her deceased mother and aunts.

“As to the tiger, Mary, I couldn’t say, but could he go into the Church?” asked Martha, looking worried again.

“Where did he go when he left here?” piped Mary. “If he turned towards the Palace he’d have been going to ask the Bishop if his lordship considered him suitable.”

“There! I never thought to look!” cried Martha, clacking her tongue in annoyance, and gathering up her skirts she ran back to the shop again.

On her reappearance she was able to report that Jocelyn and the children were standing on the pavement outside Gabriel Ferranti’s house and staring in through the window.

“Ah,” said Mary, “he’ll be taking the house and setting up for himself in business.”

“Go on with you, Mary!” expostulated Martha. “Young gentlemen don’t go into trade.”

“He’s maybe not such a gentleman as he looks,” said Mary. “Canon Fordyce’s daughter in London married beneath her, so I’ve heard. It’ll be books. Books are very genteel.”

By nine o’clock that night it was all over Torminster that Canon Fordyce’s grandson from London had taken Gabriel Ferranti’s house and was turning it into a bookshop.

#torminstertravels #a city of bells #readalong #booklr #literature #books #a city of bells: chapter 3

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