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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

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Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2?

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell.

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead.

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation.

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again.

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money. I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them.

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’.

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne.

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.”

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from.

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.” we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst.

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party.

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now.

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice.

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her.

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.”

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met.

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely.

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives.

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud.

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion.

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen.

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.”

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile.

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again.

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see.

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.”

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie.

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be.

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it.

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both.

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance.

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean, I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow.

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start.

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cresswell #thomas and audrey rose #Thomas Cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #kerri maniscalco #enchanted #taylor swift #stalking jack the ripper #Hunting Prince Dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

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joezworld · 3 years

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Mind Reading, Soul Stealing, Red Eyed, Diesel Electric Monsters!

June, 2000

A new millennium dawned on the Island of Sodor, and with it came many changes that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.

British Rail was no more, and the North Western Region was now the North Western Railway, free to operate as it pleased.

One of the first things that The Fat Controller did was purchase a new express train.

Gordon was apoplectic at this news, but the Fat Controller explained that this new service was to be a through train to London - steam engines hadn’t been allowed on the mainland rails for decades, and under British Rail, a new locomotive would take the coaches to and from London. Now that BR was no more, it was more economical to purchase a dedicated trainset and avoid the locomotive change at Barrow.

Furthermore, Gordon would still be rostered on the midday express and the Limited, both of which only went as far as Barrow.

Pip and Emma had visited Sodor once before, and had been well received by the other engines. However, once it was revealed that Gordon would be displaced from some of his trains, some engines became suspicious...

The engines had speculated that the Fat Controller would purchase a new diesel locomotive to haul the train, and were very surprised to discover that he had instead bought a high speed train!

"Ah canno' put ma buffer on it," Douglas admitted. "But they're doing something! Just look at how they act - the lasses must be scheming or something!"

"Ah'm tellin' ye - they are up ta something!" Douglas said to the other engines in the shed.

"And wha' might that be Douggie?" Asked Donald. Unlike his brother, he had no issue with the diesels, and was confused as to why his brother was so vehemently against them.

"Those two have been nothing but polite and cordial this entire time, and- oh bollocks." Duck began, before his eyes widened in realization. "Do not tell me that you have been listening to Oliver again!"

The other engines groaned - Oliver's escape from the mainland had put him in contact with some of the worst diesels that BR had ever fielded, and he still didn’t trust them as a result. Furthermore, his relatively isolated duties on the Little Western meant that his only real contact with diesels was limited to BoCo, Bear, and Delta - three engines who had all 'escaped' from the mainland in one form or another. He held a pessimistic view towards other diesels, and most of the engines had learned to tune him out as a result.

Apparently Douglas had not. "Ah have - and he's right! That's how it starts - they come in all peaceful and nice, and then Boom! All diesels all the time! Ah saw it happen once and ah'm not about to let it happen again!"

"Oh my god" said Donald and Duck in unison. They were going to have words with Oliver the next time they saw him.

Across the yard at the newly-built diesel shed, the diesels were listening to Douglas' ranting.

"Well, I'm glad that we haven't actually done anything to upset him." Pip said after a moment.

"I was worried that we'd said something." Emma chimed in from the back.

Bear rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, let me be the first to say that I am glad that you aren't actually evil monsters out to destroy steam traction."

Everyone laughed at that, and evidently did so just a little bit too loud, because...

"AH KNEW IT! They're conspiring against uz!" Douglas shouted from inside the shed.

The diesels stopped laughing and stared at the shed, while the steam engines began berating Douglas.

That brought a fresh wave of shouting from within the shed, while the diesels looked at each other incredulously.

The other engines weren't audible, but Douglas certainly was. "Well maybe no' on purpose! But ye don' know what these new things ken do! They might 'ave mind control powers or something!"

"Mind control powers?" Bear said with a raised eyebrow. "Where does he even get that from?"

"Is that normal?" Said Pip, suddenly concerned about having to work with these engines on a regular basis.

"Not especially." Said Delta. "But when it does happen, they're like this until they suffer a karmically appropriate pratfall, at which point they realize that they've been stupid and apologize."

The others stared at her.

"What?" She protested. "Why do you think I never get too big for my wheels if I can help it? I've read the books! I know what happens to the rest of you!"

Bear and BoCo exchanged a significant look, while Pip looked thoughtful.

"So, that pratfall," she said slowly, a sly look spreading across her face. "Do you lot feel like speeding up when it happens?"

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

And so they did.

Henry and James were soon involved in this scheme by virtue of being 'involved' with Bear and Delta, and spent the next several days figuring out exactly what Oliver and Douglas were saying about Pip and Emma. They eventually compiled a long list of imagined abilities, including mind control, telepathy, soul-stealing, invisibility, and the ability to lie with a straight face.

(The steam engines disputed that last point, but all the diesels agreed that it was the only thing on the list that was true.)

A week later, they first sprang their plan. Douglas was idling at the big station as Pip and Emma loaded their passengers. He made a conscious effort to ignore the HST set, which was helped somewhat by Bear backing into the track in between him and them.

Then things began to go strangely.

"Oh, not much. How about you?" Bear said in response to nothing.

Douglas looked around to see who he could be talking to, and found nobody else.

"Very interesting." Continued Bear. "I'd never considered that before. Is that new?"

After a moment of silence: "I see."

A pause.

"I wonder how that would work on this Island?"

Silence.

"Really?"

More silence.

"Well I would have never guessed!"

Douglas began to wonder if he was losing his mind when Pip's guard blew his whistle and the HST rolled away towards Barrow.

After a long moment, Douglas spoke up. "Bear, who were ye talking to?"

"Pip?" Bear said, confused.

"No ye weren’t!" Exclaimed Douglas. "Ye were talkin' to thin air!"

"I was not! We were having a most interesting conversation. I'm surprised you didn't hear it, considering we were right next to you."

"Ye said nuthin!" Douglas protested.

"I think you need to get your hearing checked." Bear said as he pulled away with his goods train. He broke into a wide smile as soon as he was out of sight.

Next it was Oliver. He made a rare trip beyond the Little Western to collect a train of China Clay from Wellsworth. BoCo was asleep in the station's bay platform when he arrived, so Oliver quietly collected the clay wagons.

As he waited at the signal to leave, Oliver noticed that BoCo was mumbling in his sleep.

"No... mustn't... listen... to... evil... no one... controls... me..."

"BoCo?!" Oliver yelped, suddenly concerned by the diesel's mumbling.

"Huh?!" BoCo sprang to wakefulness suddenly, and Oliver would have sworn that for a split second, there was a red glint in BoCo's eyes. "Oh, hullo Oliver. Fancy seeing you out on the main line."

"You were talking in your sleep!" Oliver said, forgoing any pleasantries.

"I suppose I might have been." BoCo confessed. "I haven't been sleeping very well recently - none of us diesels have."

As Oliver began even more concerned than he had been mere seconds ago, the home signal on the main line dropped to 'clear', and Pip and Emma roared through the station bound for Tidmouth.

As they passed, Oliver jumped slightly - Pip, who was facing him, glared at him as he passed. It was especially unsettling because modern diesels had their end-of-train lamps built into their eyes, so Pip's pupils were bright red as she glared back at Oliver and BoCo.

"She's up to something..." Oliver said to BoCo.

BoCo said nothing in return, and when Oliver looked over, he almost jumped off the rails - BoCo's eyes were the same red colour as Pip's and he was staring into the middle distance.

"She isn't up to anything Oliver..." BoCo said hollowly. "Why would you say that...?"

Oliver squealed in terror, and fled onto the main line as soon as his signal dropped.

BoCo waited until Oliver's train had vanished from sight before turning his lights off and laughing hysterically.

----------

This continued for some time - Oliver and Douglas would see one of the diesels, and the diesels would act strangely at the mention of Pip and Emma.

By the end of the week, Oliver was jumping at shadows, and Douglas was telling his conspiracy theories to any engine that would listen.

"So then Delta gets this faraway look in ‘er eye an' she clams up!" Douglas crowed one morning at Knapford station. “An’ there was no other engine there! She musta’ been talking to them while they wuz invisible!”

Thomas was spellbound. "And then what happened?"

Henry was not. "And then Douglas discovered that there was a reasonable explanation to whatever just happened and learned not to tell tales to impressionable tank engines."

"Ah am not! They. Are. Up. Ta. Somethin'!" Douglas railed at the green engine. "Look, there's Bear now! Let's just see - he's gonna do somethin' if we watch him close enough."

Bear tooted his horn in greeting as he rolled by with a slow goods train. Seeing Oliver and Henry, he quickly flashed his red lights and dropped his engine down a gear as he rolled between Henry and Douglas.

"Play along!" He whispered to Henry as he went by, the noise of his engine masking the words.

Henry blinked. That was an unexpected move... He watched the goods train roll by - it didn't feel right, pranking Douglas like that.

The goods train hadn’t even gone past yet, and he could already hear Douglas ranting about how Bear was a "red-eyed scheming devil!"

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. He thought as he listened to Douglas make blameless accusations about his fiancé. To hell with it then.

"What did he say?!" Douglas bellowed after the train passed. "Ah heard 'im say something to ye Henry! What did the devil say to ye?!"

Henry, trying his best to keep his face neutral, looked at Douglas in shock. "Oh hello Douglas! When did you get here?"

Bear's train cleared the signal block, and Henry steamed out of the station, leaving Douglas raving about "memory alterin' beasties!"

The engines looked up as Donald steamed up to the diesel shed.

“Ah knoo ye lot are doin’ this - knock it off before ma brother completely loses his marbles.” He said firmly.

“Is he going to stop saying that we’re mind controlling demons?” Bear retorted.

The steam engine sighed deeply. “Ah want ye to know that he wasnae sayin that before ye started, but ah’ll talk to ‘im. Mebbe we can work something out.”

He steamed back to the sheds. Within a few minutes the sound of Scottish-accented shouting burst from the sheds.

This continued for some time, to the point where Henry had his driver pull him out of the shed to escape the noise.

Eventually, both twins emerged from the shed, Donald looking aggrieved and Douglas much more subdued.

“Ah’m sorry.” The twin eventually said. “Ah think that ah might have let this whole ‘new diesel’ thing get to me a bit more than ah should’ve.”

There was some muttering from Bear and Pip before BoCo shushed them. “We accept your apology Douglas. Sometimes we can all go a little overboard -”

“I don’t.” Interrupted Delta.

“You hid from the Thin Clergyman.” BoCo glared at her before continuing. “We all can go a little overboard at times, so I’m glad that we can now put this behind us. Friends?”

“Friends.” Douglas said after a moment.

“Good!” Cried a voice from inside Donald’s cab as Siobhan poked her head out. “Now that we’re done torturin’ me Da’ for being thick, I wan’ to know somethin - how did all of you manage to make yer eyes turn red like that?”

“Oh, this?” BoCo said as he turned on his red lamps, making his eyes glow red. “It really is just something we were built with.”

The other diesels blinked theirs as well to show that it was not an unusual thing to be equipped with.

“Oh that is so creepy.” Siobhan shivered. "I love it!"

“Oh no.” Oliver gasped as he watched the diesels flash their mind-control rays at Donald and Douglas. “They got to them.”

“What do we do?” Whispered Thomas from the next platform over.

“I don’t know!”

-------

After the truce between Douglas and the Diesels, life became much more peaceful on Sodor.

Unless you were on Thomas’ branch line.

Because only Thomas and Daisy regularly travelled down to the big station at Tidmouth, the rest of the engines on the line learned most of their news from the main line engines when they met at Knapford station. This meant that information was slow and sometimes unreliable on the best of days.

Now that Thomas actively believed that Pip and Emma had mind-controlled the rest of the engines, that information stream became warped and distorted very quickly.

Matters were made worse when Daisy was sent to the works for several weeks to have her engine rebuilt. To keep up with traffic, The Fat Controller sent an engine to assist, and Oliver was the first to volunteer.

The branch line quickly descended into hysteria.

Looking back on this series of events, it is mind-boggling that none of the big engines noticed, however, they had assumed that Douglas had told Oliver that it was all a prank, and that Oliver was an engine that could be reasoned with.

Furthermore, Gordon, now displaced from the morning and evening express, was insistent on trying out other passenger runs to see if he enjoyed them. This meant that the engines who normally pulled those trains were also displaced from their duties, meaning that the engines who usually met Percy, Thomas, and Daisy’s trains on a regular basis were instead arriving at Knapford on random days and times. The sudden paranoia of the branch line engines was therefore overlooked or dismissed as ‘tank engines being tank engines’.

Matters were made worse when Daisy returned from the works, allowing Oliver to return to the Little Western.

Daisy was due to return around lunchtime, and so Oliver took his train to Tidmouth, and then immediately continued on with a train to Arlesburgh, while Daisy took the return service to Ffarquhar.

The other engines on the branch were busy with trains at the north end of the line, and didn’t know that Daisy was returning that day. From their perspective, Oliver was ‘vanished’ by ‘them’, and replaced with a diesel interloper.

The fact that Daisy had been on the branch line for almost fifty years at that point was immaterial.

“How do we know that you’re really Daisy?” Percy asked late that night. “What if you’ve been mind-controlled by them to make us into your thralls?”

“Because if I was,” Daisy hissed, acid practically dripping off of her tongue. “I would have done it already. Go. To. Sleep!”

No more was said that night, but the other engines continued to view Daisy with suspicion.

Daisy, now thoroughly unamused, began asking the big engines if mind control was something that she could actually do - just so that she could get some peace and quiet!

This did not ease the branch line engine’s concerns at all.

Daisy found that sleep was much harder to come by as a result.

Things eventually came to a head when an extremely sleep deprived Daisy backed down onto the milk van a little bit too hard. The shunter had failed to set the van’s brakes, and it rolled away down the hill towards the next station.

Percy and Thomas had, as the result of a lost bet, switched jobs that day, which meant that Percy, Annie, and Clarabel were halfway up the hill behind Daisy when the milk van rattled into view.

“Horrors!” Percy cried as his crew applied the brakes and jumped clear.

The damage to Percy’s front wasn’t catastrophic, but it was bad enough for the breakdown train crew to put him on a flatbed so he could be taken to the works to be looked over. Clarabel, who was behind Percy and took a nasty bump in the collision, accompanied him.

Wendell was sympathetic as he collected them, but Percy was still wary, especially because his flatbed had been coupled up to Wendell facing backwards, meaning that neither he nor Clarabel could see if the diesel had been mind-controlled.

Wendell’s shocked laughter when Percy told him this was not encouraging.

The trip went normally until they arrived at Kildane. There, another engine was waiting, and attached itself to the back of the train. Percy and Clarabel eyed it suspiciously. It looked like a diesel, but one they had never met before, and had a strange metal contraption on its roof, which it lowered before they set off again.

“Hi!” The engine chirped as the train set off. “I’m Abbey! Who are you?”

“Percy...” He said cautiously. Clarabel stayed silent.

As it turned out, Abbey was an electric locomotive. She wasn’t new to the island by any means, but she had arrived after Percy had begun working on Thomas’ branch full-time, so they’d never met. She was very chatty, very curious, and had no idea what Percy and Clarabel were talking about.

“Mind-Control Rays?” She laughed as they rolled towards Kellsthorpe Road station. “How would that even work?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that if their eyes turn red and then they look at you, you’re done for!”

“Red eyes?” Abbey looked thoughtful. “Do you mean reversing lights? We have them built into our eyes so we don’t need lamps!”

“What?” Percy was baffled.

“Yeah! It’s something that all engines have nowadays.” Abbey’s brows scrunched together in thought. “I think that mine has an emergency backup battery... let me try...”

After a moment of squinting, the pupil of Abbey’s left eye flickered into a very familiar red gaze.

Wendell was not paying attention to the conversation behind him at all, and was startled to attention when Percy and Clarabel began screaming.

“What in the world is going on?!” He shouted, trying to look behind himself and see what was happening.

“I don’t know!” Cried Abbey. “They just started screaming!”

The commotion drew the attention of Wendell’s driver and second man as well, which meant that nobody on the train noticed as the Kellsthorpe Road home signal suddenly dropped to ‘Danger’ as they drew nearer to it.

The train rumbled past the signal without stopping, and approached the station at speed. Wendell finally looked forward, and saw members of the station staff waving their arms at him as they tried to right a massively overloaded porter’s trolley that had fallen over on the foot crossing.

“Diesel and Oil! Stop the train! Stop the Train!” He shouted, drawing his driver’s attention, who applied the brakes as they entered the station.

“I want you to tell me what happened one more time.” The Fat Controller said as seriously as one could while standing ankle deep in tin foil. The station was covered in the stuff, as was Wendell, Percy, Clarabel, and Abbey.

“The porter’s trolley was a consignment of tinfoil going to a restaurant supply store in town.” The stationmaster started. “It came in on the last train, and then it fell. We tried to make them stop-”

“I threw the signal! I did!” The signalman interjected. “They just didn’t see it!”

“No, we didn’t.” Wendell’s driver admitted, shamefaced. “We were trying to see why -”

“Percy was screaming.” Finished the Fat Controller.

“Yes sir.”

“Why was Percy screaming?”

“We don’t know sir.”

“Abbey might!” Wendell chipped in while trying to blow flecks of tin foil out of his nose. “She was talking to them when they started screaming.”

As it turned out, Abbey knew exactly why Percy (and Clarabel) had been screaming, and was willing to talk about it at length.

The Fat Controller's eyebrows rose into his hairline and stayed there as Abbey kept talking. Percy and Clarabel remained silent, although it was impossible to determine whether it was out of fear, stubbornness, or embarrassment.

“Mind Control powers? Really?” The Fat Controller wanted to be upset, but just could not manage it. “Where on earth did that come from?”

“Oliver sir!” Percy finally spoke up. “He said that the diesels were taking over the island with their evil powers!”

A surprised sounding "oh no!” rose from the next platform - Henry was waiting with The Limited, and had heard most of Abbey’s explanation.

“Do you have something to add to this?” The Fat Controller asked Henry, unsure how this story could get any more ridiculous.

Henry did have something to add.

“Sir, are you all right?” His assistant asked as they returned to the car.

“I’m fine.” The Fat Controller managed. “I just need a moment.”

He shut the door to the car behind him, and as soon as he was alone, he laughed until he cried.

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sassyhobbits · 4 years

Note

....tinder au??🥺 not to rush u ofc! but i’m having a rough time in school right now and an update would really make my week better🤍

you sent this ask at just the right time! i just finished it up! sorry for the lack of writing. school is also giving me a rough time rn as well! but!!! we will persevere!!!

also im a little buzzed so i hope this is coherent

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

~~~

Rowan didn’t really enjoy dressing up, could go his entire life without attending another large, social gathering. And yet… he had let Aelin convince him to take her to a wedding.

He had forced himself into his nicest suit because Aelin told him to. He sensed that this was something he didn’t want to argue with her about, so he did it with minimal complaint. He figured that it wouldn’t be that bad in the grand scheme of things, and the open bar was certainly a perk.

Not to mention, Aedion would be there well. In fact, Rowan was on his way to his coworkers apartment where he would meet up with the rest of them before heading to the wedding. Apparently, Aedion got roped in as well. His and Aelin’s family were old friends with the groom’s family.

Rowan checked his watch as he climbed the stairs, ensuring he wasn’t late lest he give Aelin a reason to be cross with him. It seemed he was making good time.

Rowan knocked politely, the door swinging open quickly and revealing a surprisingly well-dressed Aedion, who was nursing a bottle of beer.

“Hey man,” he said, clasping forearms with Rowan. “How’re you doing? You want a beer?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

Rowan stepped into the apartment, lingering in the living room as Aedion slipped into the kitchen. The room was decorated simply, but it was clean. His eyes caught on a few old photographs, picturing what must have been a young Aedion and Aelin together, smiling smiles too large for their little faces.

Aedion reappeared, handing him the beer.

“I can’t believe Aelin conned you into this,” Aedion commented, leaning against the back of the couch. “But, I gotta say, I’m glad you’re coming.”

“Is the company there gonna be that bad?”

“Yes. But I also know Aelin’s doing this to piss off her ex. And I was never a big fan of him. I think it’s going to be funny.” Aedion finished off his beer, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall with a sigh. “Those girls are gonna make us late. Lys! Are you nearly done?”

“You can’t rush perfection!” Lysandra’s voice called from upstairs.

Aedion shook his head fondly with a playful chuckle, clearly used to waiting on the girls.

They chatted casually until Rowan was finished with his beer. It was then that a door opened from upstairs, followed by feminine laughter and the clicking of heels.

Lysandra descended first, looking perfectly elegant in an emerald slip dress that brought out the green in her eyes. She tossed her raven hair over her shoulder as she caught Aedion’s eye, sending him a bright and loving smile.

Rowan barely heard the two of them complimenting one another, all thoughts flying from his head at the sight of the woman walking down the stairs.

Aelin looked stunning, though Rowan knew stunning wasn’t really strong enough of a word to describe her in this instance.

She wore a golden silk dress that hit just above the knee. The conservativeness of the length was offset by the way it hugged each and every curve, as if it had been sewn on to her body specifically. Thin straps held it over her shoulders, leaving her toned arms bare. Aelin’s hair had been straightened and left hanging freely in a gleaming sheet down her back. It was then that Rowan realized how rarely he got to see her with her hair down. When Aelin was working or working out, it was always tossed up in a bun or a ponytail. It suited her. She wore a necklace, and it wasn’t until she got closer that Rowan was able to see that the pendant was a golden sword. It was strangely fitting.

She was slipping something into her clutch, barely even noticing Rowan until she nearly walked through him. Her eyes snapped up, the stunning turquoise color brought out by her eyeshadow look. Her gaze traveled from his feet to the top of his head, assessing and nothing more.

“You clean up better than I expected,” Aelin said simply.

Rowan wished he had something witty up his sleeve, but seeing Aelin in that dress had left his mind in shambles. He was only able to grind out a curt, “Thanks.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, leaving Rowan to wonder what was going through her head. Before he had much more time to ponder it, she swept away, grabbing a jacket by the door.

“So, is everyone ready?” she asked.

“In case you didn’t notice,” Aedion drawled. “We were all waiting for you two.”

Aelin ignored the tiny quip, smoothing down the sides of her dress. “Well then, let's get going. We have a wedding to attend.”

…

The ride to the venue was uneventful. Aelin sat in the back besides Rowan while Aedion drove them all. The car was filled with friendly chatter back and forth, pop music droning on in the background.

Aelin tried to stop herself from sending sly glances towards Rowan. He looked good tonight. Really good. Rowan was hot on a day to day basis, something that not even his drab PT uniform could hide. But tonight, all cleaned up and dressed in something nice, Rowan was unfairly handsome.

Her only solace was knowing that he was checking her out too. Aelin knew she looked amazing tonight. Part of it was for herself, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that part of it was to gain Rowan’s attention. She had been successful in that endeavor.

Aelin wasn’t stupid. She knew Rowan found her attractive just as Rowan knew she found him attractive. They had been ready to go out and probably bang until they realized that they were coworkers. Aelin had agreed to keep it professional, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t want something more with him.

Soon enough, Aedion was parking the car outside the venue. They filed out, Aelin smoothing and straightening her dress, a sort of heaviness in her gut as she looked towards where the ceremony would be held. Although she was excited to see Dorian, and happy that he had found love, she was less than excited about seeing Chaol again.

The scent of pine and snow surrounded her just as Rowan came up to her side.

“You ready?” Aelin asked him, to which he gave a stiff nod. “Good. Don’t embarrass me.”

Rowan scowled, but held out his arm for her regardless. Aelin took it, stepping close to his side, trying to ignore how nice the warmth of his body felt against her own.

It was time to get this over with.

…

The ceremony was simple yet beautiful. Any idiot could see how in love Dorian and Sorscha were with one another. Aelin had only met the bride on a few occasions, but she liked her. Sorscha looked stunning in a flowy gown that made her brown skin glow.

Aelin pointedly ignored Chaol even though he stood right by Dorian the entire time. Instead, she looked at the maid of honor, Yrene, who her ex was now dating. Through talking to Dorian, Aelin had learned that Chaol and Yrene had met through Sorscha. Apparently, the two women worked at the same hospital and were close friends.

Yrene was a beautiful woman with kind eyes. Aelin knew in her gut that she would like her once they got to talking. Perhaps they would find time to chat through the night.

The ceremony ended with a sweet kiss and the happy couple going off to take some photographs. For the guests, it was time to cocktail.

Rowan, at least, was playing the part of a boyfriend well. Without complaint, surprisingly. He held her hand as they went towards where cocktail hour was being held, a steady presence. He even chatted with her, asking her questions about how she knew Dorian. When she whispered snide comments about other guests, he even laughed a few times. It was… nice, she supposed. She was having a good time with him.

Lysandra and Aedion were swept up by Dorian’s parents, leaving Aelin and Rowan by themselves.

The more they drank, the more comfortable they became. It was easier to laugh, easier to forget why they had put distance between them to begin with. They had been pretty good at avoiding conversation with others to begin with, but Aelin knew it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths with someone.

“So what do we say if someone asks how we met?” Rowan asked as they grabbed another drink from the bar.

“We tell them the truth,” Aelin deadpanned. “Sexting on tinder.”

Rowan choked on his whiskey. “We cannot say that.”

“Fine. We can be boring and say we met at work.”

Rowan laughed, and Aelin realized how much she loved the sound. She liked how it softened his normally stony face, made him appear younger, lighter. She could get used to seeing him like this.

They turned from the bar, taking a few steps into the crowd, only to come face to face with the reason Aelin had dragged Rowan along to begin with.

“Aelin,” Chaol Westfall greeted, offering a shaking and awkward smile. “Hi.”

The smile that had been painted on Aelin’s face faltered slightly. She had been enjoying her time with Rowan so much she had forgotten why she had wanted him by her side to begin with.

“Chaol,” Aelin said, smiling tightly. “It’s good to see you again.”

Yrene was on his arm, looking stunning in a deep purple dress, curly hair loose and voluminous. Her honey eyes were bright and kind as she smiled at Aelin.

“You too,” Chaol said, before motioning towards the woman beside him. “This is Yrene. My girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yrene greeted, reaching out and shaking her hand. “I love your dress.”

“Oh, thank you! I’ve been looking at your shoes all night.” Aelin put a hand on Rowan’s shoulder, pressing herself to his side. “This is Rowan.”

Aelin watched carefully as they all shook hands and greeted one another, carefully studying facial expressions and body language. She had wondered if this would be awkward and tense but… it was normal.

Aelin and Chaol had ended on terrible terms, treating one another like actual shit. She remembered the insults thrown, the glares when they happened to be in the same room. But maybe… maybe they had gotten better. Maybe some time and distance had eased away the worst of the anger and toxicity. She didn’t look at Chaol and feel bad anymore she felt… nothing.

But she could tell that Chaol had Yrene and he cared very much about her.

And Aelin had…

Well, she didn’t really have anyone but…

She looked to Rowan, and for once didn’t try to avoid the longing that swelled in her chest. She wished she had him.

…

Aelin sat down at her table, sipping at a glass of champagne and watching the people on the dancefloor sway slowly to the soft music playing.

The rest of the evening had gone by smoothly. Aelin enjoyed the time she spent with her friends, getting to see Dorian again even though she couldn’t steal much of his time. All and all, it had been fun.

The night was winding down, people filtering out slowly, but there were still those who lingered for a few more dances. Dorian danced with his new wife, both looking at one another with so much love Aelin could feel it from where she sat. Lysandra smiled and laughed and Aedion twirled her around. Chaol held Yrene to his chest as they swayed slowly, lost in their own world.

Aelin sighed and rested her chin on her palm, watching them all move.

There was the sound of footfalls coming her way, stealing her attention from the dance floor. She looked up and found Rowan standing before her, looking to where her gaze was just focused but glancing back at her with a raised brow.

“Do you want to dance?”

Aelin blinked in surprise, sure she had heard him incorrectly. Rowan didn’t seem like the type of man who enjoyed dancing but… the offer hung there.

“You don’t have to,” Aelin said softly. “You did your part.”

“I can tell you want to dance. So, let’s dance. It’s almost time to go anyway.”

Aelin hesitated a beat, studying Rowan’s expression carefully. She didn’t want him to do anything he was uncomfortable with, yet his face showed nothing but sincerity. Rowan held out a hand towards her, brow raised as if to say Well? Are you coming?

A hesitant smile found its way onto Aelin’s face, but she accepted his hand, letting him guide her to her feet. Rowan led her to the center of the dance floor, placing a polite hand on her hip, the other clutching her own. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Aelin could have sworn time stopped. Maybe she had imagined it, but she was almost sure she saw a flash of the same longing she felt in his eyes.

They began to sway slowly to the music. It was a little awkward at first, but as time passed and the notes rang out, the tension lessened. They moved closer and closer to one another, until to a stranger they might have actually appeared to be a regular couple. It felt more natural than Aelin expected it to.

As the songs played, they kept sending one another shy smiles. Aelin wasn’t sure at what point she rested her head against Rowan’s chest as they danced, but she never wanted that moment to end.

It was a shame that the reception was inching to a close, that the night of being close to Rowan would end. It was a shame that, come the morning, they would go back to being strangers once more.

But, for tonight, Aelin was content to pretend.

#tinder au #rowaelin #my writing

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bhaleesi · 3 years

Note

Im so glad you liked my art! But I had very little material to work out their exact form of relationship. At first I had imagined Selene to be the dignified one, aka the 'One who keeps others in Line' but a rereading of the crypt scene with Selene goading Arion on showed that clearly wasnt the case🤣. Arion, the clown can't take that role so I was sure it had to be our Ayden. I drew Ayden with a prim and proper attire (with no wrinkles in sight), the disciplined one of the group.

But what kind of relationship did Ayden and Selene exactly have (Is Aylene a good couple name🤔)? That was something I kept pondering on. Selene wouldn't have taking Ayden's constant hogging of all her work and she has quite a strong personality. But I cant imagine these people not constantly clashing. Selene would have been the free one with the children whereas Ayden the responsible parent. And what kind of mom was Selene to the twins?

Arion and Persephone seem pretty cool compared to the clashing couple above!

[P.S- Can I know more abt Aylene's wedding ceremony? I wanna draw them! (If you don't mind that is)]

"At first I had imagined Selene to be the dignified one" I snorted at this because Selene most definitely was *not* the dignified one of the group. None of them were quite "dignified" until adulthood, but I'd say the best match for that description would've been Ayden. A summary of their dynamic is:

Selene wants to do something wild and crazy

Arion supports her, the two of them cackling as they plan their latest scheme

Depending on the scheme, Ayden will either cautiously join in (while keeping an eye out for trouble) or will be like "nooo stop".

If Ayden says no, Selene and Arion will do it anyway and Ayden will get them out of trouble once they get caught 🤣

An example is from when they were in their mid-teens in Briar. Lady Fiona isn't a big fan of animals, but Selene found and secretly kept a cat in Briarlight. Selene and Arion would take turns hiding it in their rooms and feeding it so that Fiona wouldn't find it. Ayden also fed it, but he was a lot less enthused and was stressed every time it was his "turn" to dodge Fiona.

But then the cat would purr and he'd forgive Selene and Arion for dragging him into the mess

Aylene is such a pretty couple name! Honestly even as a proper name it's really lovely

I might jot it down and give it to a character one day...

Now I'm wondering what Quill and Ayden would be. Qayden? Aydill?? Quillden?? Not as pretty as Aylene, that's for sure

You're on the right track with your analysis! They had a great relationship overall, and loved each other very much. They were on the same wavelength politically, since they grew up around each other. When Selene was first crowned, however, she was not a fan of the more ... tedious parts of ruling. That left Ayden free to hog her share while Selene contributed to the war effort.

“Selene was the fighter between us, the one better at inspiring the troops. She always said that,” Ayden’s voice rose, “a ruler is needed on the battlefield, and it should be me. The queen has more freedom than the king does on a chessboard.” He returned to his normal tones. “I know for a fact that she simply did not want to do paperwork.” (From the chapter West of West)

This arrangement works out great for both of them, because Ayden is free to be the micromanaging workaholic that he is and Selene isn't weighed down by things she dislikes. Periodically they'd switch - with Ayden being on the battlefield and Selene sitting the throne - but for the most part they kept to their niches. Selene didn't ignore her duties - she just wasn't at her happiest when dealing with them. So Selene wouldn't have complained if Ayden took over a boring meeting or two.

Towards the last years of her life, Selene takes a more active interest in the throne. This immediately causes her to clash with Ayden, who has repeatedly demonstrated that he doesn't share power very well. Plus, Selene started favoring a less aggressive approach to the war, putting her in opposition to Ayden. Thus they clash, Selene leaves to end the war herself, and ... yeah :(

Selene would have been the free one with the children whereas Ayden the responsible parent. And what kind of mom was Selene to the twins?

It's like you're reading my mind because the next chapter of AWAS will focus on that exact question!

Selene was the more relaxed parent between her and Ayden. Ayden isn't particularly strict himself, but being Sovereign didn't allow him to be as close to them as he would've liked just because he would've been so busy when they were young. While Ayden would be stuck in meetings all week, Selene would hang out with the twins, build a swing for Esme, play piano with Lucien, take them out on the river, etc.

I also feel like Selene might've had a slightly deeper bond with Lucien. Being Crown Prince isn't a role that Lucien is fond of, and sometimes wishes he wasn't. Selene would've understand that reluctance a lot better than Ayden, so she'd put a lot of energy into helping Lucien grow at his own pace and finding his feet with all the expectations people put on him. Whereas Esme is a bit of a social prodigy and so would've preferred to be with Ayden. Esme is also pretty adventurous and mischievous, so for sure Selene would've encouraged that aspect of her daughter.

Arion and Persephone seem pretty cool compared to the clashing couple above!

Arion and Persephone are a fun couple to write whenever they're in a scene together! It makes me happy just how much Arion loves his wife 🤣 It's also part of the reason why Arion wants to take a step back from being Suzerain and focus more on Briar~

[P.S- Can I know more abt Aylene's wedding ceremony? I wanna draw them! (If you don't mind that is)]

Sure! If someone is willing to use their time to create art based on my content, I’ll always be thrilled ♥️♥️

Ayden and Selene's wedding was fairly simple, as far as royal weddings can go. Ayden's father would have died not long beforehand, so the mood was generally somber. The war was at an all-time high, so it wouldn't have been a good look to be spending lavish amounts of money when the crown loyalists were technically losing. On top of that, Ayden's advisors would've cared more about Ayden having heirs and the wedding was just a step they had to take so the whole thing would've been organized quickly.

That being said, the style of the wedding would've been overall Eurydicean, not Briarean. Ayden and Selene spent more time outside of Ancient, so the Ironhillers would've partially viewed them as foreign. In order to settle into life in the capital must faster, they would've followed Ancienti customs. So the wedding would've been more Western in its inspiration, with a bit of Briarean influence as a nod to their former home.

The left image is a colorized picture of Tsarina Alexandra of Russia from 1908, to give you an idea of what Selene might’ve worn. The right is Tsar Nicholas II, her husband. Ayden and Selene got married in the equivalent of the 1900s, so you can play around with any particular designs from around that era!

#theholyfollowerofdeath #a wolf amongst serpents #awas #ayden caedis #selene caedis #arion sylph #ask

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irishmacguirefucker · 4 years

Text

Truths

Or alternatively, Karen jones weasels the ranch plan out of Sean and then has a brief crisis about it

(3150 words! holy shit its long but i hope its a good read bc i worked hard on it and im pretty proud of it. You should probably read Seans hcs first buts its not necessary)

Karen Jones is not a particularly optimistic person. She wouldn't say pessimistic persay, maybe more of a realist.

There were a lot of things she felt were ultimate truths. Women would never be treated equally to men or allowed to vote, she would always despise the hot weather, she would never be good at embroidery, and she would die as she lived. Nothing but another forgotten criminal. Another gang member shot down and swept underneath the rug that was the new century.

She was sure that was what happened to Sean. Dutch says he was captured but in Karens book he may as well have died on that boat job.

But one day, somehow, those truths she clung to seemed to be wavering.

When Tilly and Mary-Beth spoke of the women in Rhodes and San Denis, or even places further like New York, fighting for their right to vote and be equal she tried to brush it off.

But it stuck out in her brain. Was the world changing? Could things be different? Sadie Adler was running around in pants like it already had for her. Maybe she was a pessimist, not a realist.

Things were changing, she could feel it. And not just in the world of politics and women's rights. (not that she thought herself much of a scholar in that area)

There were whispers around camp, Hosea left for a long time and when he came back he had a look in his eye that she just couldn't decipher. But then suddenly that look seemed to be catching on all around her. First in Arthur, though whatever was happening seemed to have put Dutch in a very grim mood.

Next it was John and Abigail Marston. Suddenly they were fighting less, and speaking in low whispers like schemers plotting some plan that Karen was still desperately trying to figure out.

The final straw was Ms. Grimshaw. She had that look in her eyes just like the rest and suddenly she was ordering the girls to start looking for legal money, legitimate jobs for the gang to get done. Suddenly, she wasn't the only suspicious one anymore.

Things stayed that way for a while, looking for legal money with sob stories and not so innocent flirting to find jobs. And it was weird, and suspicious but no matter how much she grilled Grimshaw for it, that woman was locked tighter than the bank safes they used to rob. (Used to. How incredibly odd to think that they aren't anymore)

And then suddenly, Sean Macguire was back. He was alive and safe and only a little worse for wear. Karen Jones' solid truths were all being broken and the return of the man she -was pretty sure she- loved was the last crack she could handle.

She wanted so many things at once in that moment. She wanted rum, she wanted to run to his arms and never let go, she wanted to mount old belle and escape, she wanted to curl up in one of the wagons and cry

But she did none of those things. Instead she took his greeting to her as she always had, sarcastic yet flirty, the way they had always been. Because that little game of thiers, the dancing around each other but knowing deep down (at least she thinks he knows) that she is his and he is hers.

If she changed that game, broke another solid truth that she was desperately trying to hold onto, she would be broken open and the world would suddenly become unpredictable and scary.

So she drank her beer, sat in his lap, kissed Sean, slapped him, kissed him once more and then took him to bed. And while that whole mess wasn’t the greatest experience on her end, she practically had to run from that tent because Sean had about a thousand new scars and bruises and she wasn't about the cry over it in his face. Naked. After bad sex.

After the night of Seans reunion with the gang, he seemed to hang around her a little more. Not much more than before, but now it was rare if he wasn't hanging off her skirts around camp. And she couldn't complain because she did miss him terribly, no matter what she said to his face.

In some ways she found it hard to face Hosea anymore. Right before he left on his apparently life changing trip, she had gotten particularly wasted and cried on the old man's shoulder, clinging to one of Sean’s vests.

She actually admitted, out loud that she thinks she might love Sean, but she was so sure he was dead she didn't know what to do with that thought anymore. That ‘almost’ that was floating in her head as she grieved.

When Sean came back, suddenly the memory of her drunken confession did too, and Hosea always seemed to have this weird soft smile when her and Sean spent time together. So she kinda had to avoid Hosea for a while

At some point she saw Hosea and Sean having what looked to be a deep conversation and she prayed to the god she was entirely unsure even existed that Hosea wouldn't share her secret.

Of course he didn't, and she felt a little guilty that she even thought that about the man who was in so many ways a father figure to her. But he told Sean something because suddenly, even Sean had that look in his eye.

The plotting, scheming, planning look that was catching around the camp like a disease and suddenly, she would pay any amount of money to know just what they were plotting. She knows that it's big, bigger than anything they have even done.

Sean was never able to keep a secret from her for very long. She knew that if she got on his case about it he would likely spill, so thats exactly what she did. But then suddenly Sean was no longer hanging off her skirts, and seemed to be avoiding her as much as he could.

His absence from her side was obvious. There was nobody pestering her (other than grimshaw), nobody sitting with her while she drank her morning coffee, nobody sneaking up behind her to spin her around just to see her get all flushed and mad, nobody to give her a cheeky kiss as he promised not to do it again with his fingers crossed behind his back.

Karen Jones is far from stupid, she knows that she must have been getting close to something if Sean was leaving her alone on his own free will.

So finally she caught him on guard duty. It was near the end of his shift and she made her way into the trees that hid their camp from the world.

She knew what she wanted to say, but once they locked eyes he immediately looked so nervous that she almost laughed at the shifting feet and darting eyes of the man in front of her.

She nearly forgot she had brought him a mug of coffee, and handed it to him wordlessly. He thanked her quietly and then everything was silent. Far too silent to be normal for Sean “I never stop talking even when I’m in mortal danger” Macguire.

“You’re awfully quiet Sean, ain't like you.”

A pause. More darting eyes. “Ah yes well I'm on duty, can't let those bastards out the woods hear me talking up a storm.”

Another pause. A chuckle under Karen's breath.

“Ain’t never stopped you before.”

Briefly he smiled, and looked into the blonde’s eyes. “That it hasn’t Karen my love, but I'm not looking to get another cuff up the back of me head from Hosea for forgetting to keep me fuckin’ mouth shut.”

For a moment he looked like he might start acting normally again before he remembered just why he was avoiding her. Suddenly he was staring at his boots once more. Some guard he is.

“Right. You and Hosea been talking a lot lately. In fact, a lot of people seem to be talkin’ with Hosea ‘cept me it seems.” That was her own fault for avoiding him, but she wouldn't say that.

Sean looked uncomfortable with this conversation, looking past Karen to see if anyone was on their way to take his shift. She hoped that meant she was close to cracking him.

“Ah yes well, you know how it is with the old man. Always wanting to have long discussions about the glory days, or give ya advice ya didn't ask for.”

“I suppose. But you know what I think Sean?”

Sean has never looked this nervous before she thinks.

“What's that love?” Bold of him to ask anyways, she will give him that.

“I think yall are plotting something, and you're keeping secrets Mr. Macguire.”

She watched as the irish man stiffened, took a look around, threw back his coffee and sighed. They both knew he wouldn't be able to keep anything from her for long, perhaps he was finally accepting that.

“I just might be Ms. Jones, but I hardly think it's much of your business to be pryin’ it out of me is it?”

Sean hardly sounded like himself to her ears. Sure, he could be nasty out on a job but never to her. She considered this man to be her best friend, the man she was almost sure she was in love with, and he was slapping her away like she was nothing but a fly bothering him. She can count on one hand the amount of secrets she had ever kept from him.

He always had a way of pulling them out of her, because he always wanted her to be happy around him. He wanted to know her problems not to fix them, but to distract her from them.

She had always thought it was a sort of mutual agreement. They were close. Not just friends but not quite together. Close enough that they had a bond neither could deny. So the idea that hes been avoiding her for some reason and would get so nastily defensive when she asked? It hurt.

But she wouldn't let him know that. That's not how the game works. But suddenly all these changes around her gave her the courage to say screw the game.

“Screw you Sean Macguire. How fucking dare you.”

“Karen-”

“No, you wanna keep your mouth shut about this then you can keep your big mouth shut while i yell at you. How dare you talk to me like that. How dare you keep secrets when never in my life have i ever been able to keep a secret from you. No wait, I kept one secret from you didn’t I? I never told you that I thought you were god damn dead.”

That and the fact that she was in love with him. When did she suddenly become sure of that fact? Not that it matters. She was already saying more than she meant to.

“I thought you were dead in the ground and it damn near broke me. You are my best friend, and you have the god damn fucking balls to tell me its none of my buisness why you wont even look my way for 3 weeks. Go to hell Macguire, you don't wanna speak to me then fine. Don’t. I don't want you around no more either you bastard.”

It took one look at the young man's face to make her eyes start watering, and then she was marching back to camp. Like hell she would let him see her cry after that mess.

She almost wanted him to run after her. To apologise and tell her why he can barely look at her, and hold her as she cried. But he was on guard duty so that wasn’t an option, and that wasn't how their relationship worked.

She didn't see him again for a while. She took the work Grimshaw gave her down to the lake, and watched Jack wade in the water trying to catch a crab or a fish while she sewed up a shirt. When she got up to get more clothes she saw Sean conspiring with Hosea once more and refused to even give him another glance. She watched Pearson fish off the dock for a while, whilst she stitched a blanket, she watched the sun get lower in the sky till it lit up like the campfire.

And then out of the corner of her eye she saw a lanky leg step over the log she was on, and then he was sitting beside her.

She didn't look up. He didn't speak. He nudged a bottle of beer her way, and she took it without a word.

The sun had just barely sunk below the horizon when he cleared his throat and took a breath to speak up. She cut him off before he could start.

“Don’t start Sean, I don't want your damn apologies.”

“Well then it's a bloody good thing I wasn't about to apologise love.”

She wished he wouldn’t call her that. It's not like she exactly had time to process the whole being in love revelation she had earlier.

“What the hell do you want then.”

“I want to tell you a secret.”

She scoffed and started to stand up, but he grabbed her waist before she could, and she looked him in the face for the first time since that morning when they fought. “Let me go Sean Macguire, I don't wanna hear it.”

“Oh hush, yes ya do. I couldn't bloody well tell you this mornin’, it weren't my secret to tell you. But I had a little talk with Hosea, and he gave me then blessin’ to share with you.”

He couldn't tell her because it wasn't his to share. So here she was getting angry at him for something that wasn't even his fault. Not that there was no reason at all.

“Dammit Sean, the hell does that have to do with you avoidin’ me like the god damned plague. You could have said you can't tell me and I woulda’ left you the hell alone about it.”

“Now that is a dirty lie Ms. Jones, I have not successfully kept anythin’ from you in my whole life. You knew what I was going to give you for your birthday the day I stole the damned thing. I wasn't able to risk something this important falling out of my big mouth because you distracted me with your beauty.”

He was trying to abate her anger, and the fact that it was nearly working only served to anger her more. How dare he sit there and nearly make her laugh when he was apparently keeping some giant secret from her.

“Fine Sean. What's the big secret that's been makin’ you run away from me like a dog afraid of his own shadow.”

“Well my love, you had better get comfortable, this is quite the tale and I happen to be quite the storyteller.” And before she could tell him to get the hell on with it, he started doing what he does best. Talking.

It took him nearly a fucking hour to get to the point. He told her everything he knew about the ranch plan, every word Hosea had said to him about it, all the way up to him begging Hosea to let him tell Karen about it. By the time he finished, both their beers were gone and everything Karen had known her whole life was slipping through her fingers like the sand beneath their feet.

“-an’ Hosea says that nobody has to go with him, we can all go our separate ways and such but that's what his plan is. Him and the bloody Marstons and Arthur and everyone else they can get are going with him. And Dutch was planning on telling everyone as soon as we had the money to do it and I only know because I’m fuckin’ excellent at eavesdropping. But Arthur caught me sneaking off and told me to keep me trap shut about it so I did.”

She stared at him in stunned silence. Half the gang was plotting a move to New Austin to start a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Finally she managed to get her thoughts together just long enough to spit out the words “The one fucking time you can follow a god damned direction.”

And that was enough to make him laugh. And he sat there and laughed like they weren't getting their worlds turned upside down.

All the things Karen considered to be complete unbreakable truths were shattering. She was looking at this offer of a real life that wouldn't end in her premature death and it terrified her, but at the same time nothing had ever looked so good.

“I'm still mad that you avoided me like that.”

“Don’t think you've ever screamed at me quite like you did this morning Ms. Jones.”

“I did not scream at you, you were on guard duty.”

“You bloody did. The bird flocked out of the trees. Some broad on the street heard you and said ‘I wonder what stupid bloke pissed of that woman’”

“Are you going? To the ranch with Hosea?” She didn’t notice that over time she had practically ended up in his lap until just now.

“Well Ms. Jones, that all depends on where you're planning on going.”

Sean Macguire had confessed his love to her many times, drunk and sober. But she never thought any of them sincere until now. Here was Sean Macguire, willing to follow her wherever she may go. And it terrified her just as much as the idea of the ranch did. But just like the ranch, nothing had ever looked quite so safe, so sweet, so good.

She knew she wasn't ready to tell Sean she loved him yet. It was nice to know he loved her, and that she was hardly going to get rejected should she tell him. But she wasn't ready yet.

So instead she said “I think that I'm gonna go with Hosea and Arthur and them. To be ranchers or whatever the hell they wanna do.”

“Then I guess we’re gonna be ranchers! Though I was never good with bloody livestock.” and that made Karen laugh good and proper.

Karen Jones feels that a few things will always be ultimate truths. She would always despise the hot weather, she would never be good at embroidery no matter how hard she tried, that Sean Macguire loved her to the ends of the earth and back, and that she loved him too.

Being ranchers meant she would likely never have to lose him again, and so ranchers they would be.

#sorry if theres mistakes and also that its so long lmao #karen jones #sean macguire #rdr2 #ranch au #rdr2 ranch au #rdr2 au #everyone lives #Arthur morgan #hosea matthews #headcanons #fic #au #susan grimshaw

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bbyhjuns · 5 years

Text

Serene Nights;Seungyoun

Genre: all fluff

Summary: Nights symbolise the end of a day, wrapping up your day's worth of happenings, be it good or bad. They also symbolise a start to new beginning, as the sun sets into the darkness, then into the bright mornings again. Nights are beautiful enough, but how much more beautiful can they get when you're spending them with your love one?

Request: hello i want to request a fluffy scenario with bf!seungyoun 💞

A/N: my first ever scenario here so i wanted to make it a little special! and listen im soft for seungyoun he makes me all akskkhsjs hehe i hope this scenario would make you this way too 🥺 okay this didnt come out as well as i wanted it to be but i do hope you enjoy reading! ♡

Word Count: 1,627

------

Nights have always been your favourite; the thought of being all wrapped up cosy in bed, listening to the ambiance of the bustling city and having all the time to yourself made you feel at ease.

Books, your laptop and music playing in the background always accompanied you during such hours, as your mind slipped into another world you wished you could never leave.

These were the little things that made your heart full.

------

[11:23pm]

You watched from behind the glass panes as the rain continued to pour down heavily, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Puffing your cheeks up in defeat, you let out another sigh before staring at the dim laptop screen sitting in front of you.

Low battery

"I'm sorry ma'am we're closing soon" the young man in an apron said to you in a soft tone, politely smiling at you. You panicked a little as you realised you were the only one still left in the cafe at this hour, then proceeded to apologise and packed your things.

Yet once you opened the door, you had no where to go. Stucked under the mini canvas shelter that barely even covered you, the strong wind and raindrops soaked you completely.

Today just wasn't your night huh.

Or so, you thought.

Just before you were about to make a dash for the bus stop, a man, probably around your age, wrapped a jacket around your shoulders, arms holding out an umbrella, "You look like you need this"

His eyes formed tiny crescents as he smiled, his hair was unsheveled and messy, probably drenched from the rain too. Shocked by his sudden actions, you fumbled a little as your arms were too full to reach out for his umbrella, as well as trying not to let his jacket slip from your shoulders.

Noticing your struggles, you noticed him smile a little wider as he slightly leaned towards you, "I can walk with you- that is if you don't mind, of course".

Feeling touched by his sweet actions, you couldn't bear to reject him. So there you were, sharing an umbrella with a total stranger in the middle of the night.

But it wasn't so bad though. You had learnt a little about him; how he was staying near your neighbourhood, and how he often visited the cafe as well too.

A little part of you wanted to know more about him...

As soon as you saw the familiar building in sight, a part of you dreaded wanting to step in, although ironically thirty minutes back, you were praying you could get home as soon as possible. You let out a small sigh, before smiling at Seungyoun. He returned the same smile, eyes lighting up, "I guess i'll see you soon?"

For some reason, the thought of meeting him again made your cheek rosy.

"Uh yes of course!"

With that, both of you parted your ways, as you watched his back slowly fading away in the far distance, tugging both his arms to himself to keep himself warm.

Who would have thought such a night would be so important to the both of you?

------

[ 9:52pm ]

"Wait what, so you're saying you all just left him there? That's so mean!" you exclaimed loudly as you stared at your laptop screen, mouth agape. Staring back at you was Seungyoun in his all time favourite grey hoodie, his hands working on his phone intensely - must be gaming.

He looked up from his phone for a second to observe your face, before letting out a small laugh after seeing your expression. "We joke along like that very often, i'm sure he's fine with it. Who knows, it might have been a successful date?"

You scoffed at his words, before shaking your head, before continuing to work on the essay that you've bene attempting to type for an hour now.

"Wow you look cute"

Seungyoun's sudden comment shook you out from your concentration as you felt the all familiar heat rush to your cheeks again, before observing how he was smiling at you on the screen, trying to imitate you and your pouting lips - a habit you have when you're concentrating.

Trying to stay calm, you simply gave him a bright smile, "Yes i know, thank you" before typing your essay once again. You heard his small giggle but you couldn't help but steal a glimpse at him.

3 months of knowing each other and every single night has been so wonderful with him. You love how he'd always be up for video calls whenever and always; how he'd even make a trip down over to your place to deliver you your favourite late night snacks.

You couldn't help but develop a big fat crush on him.

Though you didn't make it obvious, it always bothered you a little about how Seungyoun felt about you; did he feel the same way too? He'd always been caring and affectionate, calling you names and complimenting you, sometimes even making flirty jokes. Though his actions seemed to suggest he felt the same way, a tiny bit of you was still afraid.

"Oh yeah i remember you have classes early tomorrow morning right? You should go to sleep soon" his voice, once again, broke your thoughts as you gave a small hum in response, "I'm not tired though, and i have yet to complete this essay so..."

You noticed him pout a little, before putting his phone down, "Hmm but don't stay up too late though. Alright i won't distract you anymore, go complete that essay!"

After a few more goodbyes, you ended the call as you felt the heat on your cheek become worse after hearing his "Good night love you".

If only he knew what his actions were doing to you.

Lost in the sea of words on your laptop, your phone vibrated and as soon as you opened it, you were met with a selfie from him.

"reminder to sleep early! hope you're done by now, go to sleep >:("

It was the small actions like these that made you fall for him even deeper. His messages never failed to make your night so much better.

As soon as you typed the last sentence, you closed your laptop shut as you picked up your phone again, "im going to now!! you're nagging so much"

"that's because i love and care for you 😚"

God, Seungyoun; as if your heart that night could take any more of its own pounding.

------

[ 12:03am ]

The soft music played from the table top as you bobbed your head slightly to the beat. Your eyes were glued to your book as you hummed a little to the tune as well, enjoying the cool air.

You felt the bed sink in beside you before a pair of arms snaked around your waist. Looking down, you saw Seungyoun pouting with puppy like eyes: ones that made you weak. He threw a leg over yours, pulling up close to you before snuggling his head into your side.

Your hand couldnt help but ruffle through his hair, feeling its soft strands playing around your fingers, then moving onto his soft cheeks that made you want to kiss him even more.

"Why are you so clingy today" you let out a small laugh, eyes still scheming over the words on your book.

Pulling you even closer, "You've been reading this book since one hour ago, your boyfriend here is feeling neglected"

You couldn't help but let out another laugh, your hand now holding his, "You're jealous over a book??"

"Yes i am" he replied, before snatching the book out from your hand to place it onto the table top.

Shaking your head at his moves, you finally gave in to him as you laid down beside him, wrapping your arms around him as well, then burying your face into his broad shoulders. You felt him let out a comforting breath of relief, his leg still hooked around you.

Late night cuddles was always your favourite.

Seungyoun slightly pulled away before looking into your eyes, then to your nose and mouth as he admired every inch of your face. Inside his mind, he couldn't believe he fell in love with such a beautiful person like you.

Like him, you stared deeply into his brown orbs as all you could see was the reflection of yourself and his endless love for you. You noticed how the sides of his lips were slightly lifted up, how his eyes stared endearingly into yours.

Just like you always did, both of you leaned in to give each other a small peck on the lips, before staring lovingly at each other again, arms still wrapped tightly.

Moments like these were the moments that made your nights so much more comforting than they already were.

------

Nights have always been your favourite; the thought of being all wrapped up cosy in bed, listening to the ambiance of bustling city and having all the time to yourself made you feel at ease.

But ever since Seungyoun entered your life, nights have become even better. The thought of you being wrapped around his arms, the sound of his voice beside your ears like a soft lullaby, having small tickle fights that always ended up in cuddling sessions all made you feel a sense of serenity and peace.

Nights with him will never be same; it was always filled with so much surprise, love, affection and fun. Every second him was precious, how his soft touches sent chills to your body, to his small and little text messages that could keep you in high spirits all night.

Perhaps, is this what others call love?

#seungyoun scenarios #seungyoun fluff #x1 scenarios #x1net #x1 fluff #seungyoun imagine #seungyoun #cho seungyoun #x1 seungyoun

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zmairinarurik · 4 years

Photo

JENNA LOUISE COLEMAN, THIRTY, IRINA RURIK. ❝ ⤚⟶ EUROPE, 1458. thanks is given by the GRAND DUCHESS, IRINA RURIK, from RUSSIA. they are at best DEDICATED, and at their worst ENVIOUS. whilst abroad, their ambition is to BE INDISPENSABLE TO HER BROTHERS & FAMILY AND TO MAKE RUSSIA STRONGER. SHE seem/s to remind everyone of JENNA LOUISE COLEMAN & AN ARROW RIPPING THROUGH THE COLD WINTER BREEZE, STRING OF PEARLS, SOFT HUMMING OF LULLABY . ❞

FULL NAME : Maria Irina Zinovia Rurik TITLES : ( FROM BIRTH UNTIL PRESENT )

Grand duchess of Russia (by birth) Princess of Sweden, Dowager duchess of Värmland (by marriage)

BIRTHPLACE : Russian Kremlin, Moscow AGE : 30 years old LANGUAGES : Russian, Swedish, French, Latin, Spanish, English DYNASTY / HOUSE:

Rurik (by birth) Valdemarsson (by marriage)

MOTHER & FATHER : Dmitri Rurik & Vasilia Palaiologina SPOUSE : ( IF ANY ) Prince Magnus of Sweden, duke of Värmland ISSUE :

Sveinn Kristoff Magnusson ( 6 years old ) Astrid ekaterina Magnusdottir ( 4 years old ) Kjell Olaf Nikolai Magnusson ( 3 year old )

SIBLINGS :

Ivan, Tsar of Russia Konstantin, Crown prince of Russia Nikita, Grand duke of Russia Katrinka katherine, Grand duchess of Russia, Princess of Wales Youngest Grand duchess of Russia

OTHER : ( NIECES / NEPHEWS, BETROTHALS, ETC )

Vasilia, ( niece ) daughter of Ivan & Adalsinda Mary, ( niece ) daughter of Katrinka/Katherine & Harry of Wales Eudoxia, Crown princess of Russia ( in-law ) Adalisnda d’Anjou, Tsarina of Russia ( in-law ) Harry Plantagenet, Prince of Wales ( in-law )

ZODIAC : Gemina ( May 19, 1428 ) RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION :

Orthodox ( my birth ) Roman Catholic ( after marriage )

ORIENTATION : Heterosexual with very slight biromantic tendencies but she loves dick too much im sorry VICES : envious, impatient, scheming, cynical, mistrusting VIRTUES : dedicated, loyal, eloquent, independent FACECLAIM : Jenna Louise Coleman HEIGHT : 5′2″ ft / 157 cm RECOGNISABLE FEATURES : dark brown hair, high nose, big round brown eyes. REPUTATION :

she is not a force to be reckoned with. in russia, she is known for her assertiveness and sharp wit. She often makes appearances in her brothers councils and serves as an advisor. She has eyes and ears all over russian court and is known to be a spitting image of her mother, always by her side. Irina will do whatever it takes ensure the safety of her brother’s rule.

WANTED CONNECTIONS :

spies in english court - shes sus about it over there and wants to ensure her sister’s position

lovers - she’s basically a free woman now. irina knows she has done her duties to her family and to her husband so she’s chilling and living her best life

enemies - those who oppose russia

friends - shes doesnt have very many lol but id like for her to have some in lisbon

coughs husband number 2 maybe?

⇢TIMELINE

1428 - birth of the 3rd rurik child, Ma. Irina Zinovia Rurik, Grand duchess of Russia 1450 - Marriage to Prince Magnus of Sweden 1452 - Birth of eldest son Sveinn 1454 - Birth of daughter Astrid 1455 - Birth of Kjell 1456 - Death of Prince Magnus of Sweden & return to Russian court 1458 - Lisbon Summit

What current conflicts does your character face?

As a young girl, Irina didn’t understand why her brothers were always put first other than the fact that they were older. She was just as smart, just as strong, and just as intuitive as they were. They were siblings were they not? Then why does she often get told to sit down and watch or embroider some flowers? How was this fair? These were beneath her, the grand duchess wailed, refusing to be treated as such and would not stop her cries until she got what she wanted which was to have the same education as her brothers. She truly was her mother’s daughter people whispered seeing how ambitious and assertive the grand duchess was. Her chin was always held high and knew exactly what she wanted which people saw as intimidating. Irina felt like she needed to put this façade up to be taken seriously even with in her family. It becomes a conflict because at one point it gets tiring. It’s exhausting to put such a cold and hard front but she knows she has to in order for her to survive her in brother’s court— or anywhere for that matter. She had to be strong in Swedish court, establish that she is more than just the youngest prince’s wife. Now that he has passed, Irina continues to fight for her place but now back in Russian court, proving herself to be important but because she’s female and a woman, it makes it a little a harder. She has dreams for herself and for her beloved Russia, which her family has helped build and fortify. Sometimes she wonders is it all worth it? This is what she asks herself continuously.

What are some potential plotlines you are interested in pursuing?

It was always about family for Irina. The things she does, the things she wants to achieve is all for the Rurik family name. Despite her pride, she knew that a marriage outside of Russia was her destiny to which she gracefully accepted to keep Russia’s neighbor, Sweden, as an ally. It pained her greatly to be away from her family but she did it with no complains. Now a widow, she knows that her place is to be a mother to her children and guardian to her eldest son who will inherit his father’s lands however there is still that itch, a desire to more than that, a desire for power. Which was only soothed when her mother called her back to Russian court shortly after his death. She aides her brothers as a councilor, representative, and as a mediator— heavens know what they’ll do to each other. The grand duchess knows that the tsarina is still getting to know the Russian court and by the order of her mother, she helps the French woman assimilate into Russian customs despite of her not so subtle ways. She helps the queen mother oversee and run the court and household. Now in Lisbon, her one goal is to see her youngest sister married. Irina wants to help oversee her betrothal and make sure it’s as powerful as hers to both make Russia stronger but to toughen up her sister as well. In short, Irina finds ways to become indispensible to her brothers, make them see that they need her. She cannot be their equal; She can never be tsarina, no, but she vows to see to it that a Rurik will always be on the Russian throne no matter what.

three bullet-points.

Nobody needed to tell Irina that the Russian court was initially mildly disappointed that the 3rd Rurik child was female. She could see it in their eyes that they had hoped she was a boy. The grand duchess was just as disappointed as they were too. Why must she have to wail and fight for her right to be as educated and skilled as her older brothers? It was not becoming of a grand duchess to learn such masculine activities such riding and archery, they said. But Irina simply did not take no for an answer. She learned these skills, along with languages, politics, and literature, wanting only to be taught the same things as her brothers. Why was she not allowed to have the same education? She was never going to be tsarina anyway, a young Irina argued. Although her brothers were still prioritized, she made sure she excelled to prove to everyone that she was just as capable as them. Deep down the eldest grand duchess envied her brothers; she envied how everything was much easier for them whilst she had to throw a tantrum before being heard.

Assertive and astute, these were attributes she learned from her mother that, to this day, has been engraved into her psyche. Her pride is her strength but it can easily be turned into hubris, which will one day either be the cause of her success or her ruination. If she wants something, she must fight for it. That’s what she has been doing all her life, fighting for what she thinks she deserves. This, in turn, has somehow made her as cold as the snow that falls on Russia, her personality forming around the ideology of being a fighter. She hides the fact that she grows tired of it and wishes things were different. It was a heavy burden to bear and there was no one to blame for it but herself.

Prince Magnus of Sweden, duke of värmland was the youngest brother of the-then King of Sweden. His marriage to Irina kept the Swedish at bay from invading Russia’s territories. The grand duchess wouldn’t say she was exactly thrilled with the match but she didn’t oppose it either. It was commanded and she simply had to comply; she didn’t have much of a choice anyway. She was prepared for her new life away from Russia and performed her duties as a wife, bearing the prince 3 children namely: Sveinn, Astrid, and Kjell. However, the prince died in battle shortly after the birth of their 3rd child. They were only married for 6 years. His death devastated Irina greatly. Though since she bore him children, they get to keep their father’s lands. The 1st year she spent in Sweden after her husband’s passing was very difficult. When her mother called her back to Russia, she hesitated at first but later came home, bringing her children with her. She found strength being in her homeland, and oddly enough, renewed vigour and a newfound purpose.

#crhs.intro #♔‘ﾟ‣ { headcanons } — sad birds still sing #AYE AYE I FINALLY FINISHED OMG #krp #krp ad #skeleton krp #lsrpg #krpg

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whirlybirdwhat · 5 years

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that Slytherin au

So remember that post a while back where I had a harry potter au for one piece where all the Strawhats were in slytherin due to their strong ambition present at an early age to achieve their dreams? No? well here it is anyway lol

Check out this post for some more reasoning behind the idea – note that I do headcanon some characters to not be slytherin, but for the sake of this au and the actual technicalities of the Sorting Hat theyre in Slytherin.

Here we go!

AU will start off with Luffy as a first year, and all canon age differences, meaning Usopp is in his grade, Nami’s one year older than them, Sanji and Zoro above her, and the rest Adults!

Save for Chopper – a special case, a mythical creature raised as human by Hiruluk in the northern mountain range. He looks somewhat more human than canon but is definitely a reindeer. When Hiruluk died and he was given to the care of Kureha, she sent him to Hogwarts (after a few years of learning from her) due to his wish to know more. He was accepted as a political ploy as an olive branch to other magical creatures – ‘ we accept you!’. He doesn’t care. He might be furry but he’s here to learn and be the best healer ever!!! Hence, Slytherin, the boys got ambition and needs some powerful families to back him up! He is in Luffy’s grade, even though he’s younger (technically)

The biggest reason for the Strawhats to be in this House is because of their ambition - but there are other reasons too!

Sanji is from a family of Gryffindors – heroes who are anything but. He wants to be the exact opposite of them in any way he can. When Zeff adopts him, he unlearns his family taught prejudices against Slytherins and when he goes to Hogwarts, tells the sorting hat in no uncertain terms that he wants to be in Slytherin.

Nami herself is cunning, and I would place her in Slytherin even if this wasn’t a Slytherin Au. She’s the perfect slytherin down to the T except for one thing – she doesn’t know her magical origin, as she was adopted at a young age. She gets a lot of shit for that, which she gives right back, as well as taking some money along the way! She also doesn’t fall in with the Magic is Superior ideology that many of her peers have – magic didn’t save her town, or Bell-mere, or her orange trees, magic isn’t superior. Magic is a tool to her, not a way of life, and science can help a lot! For instance, she made the Climatact Spell Set, with help from Usopp, which combines her knowledge of weather patterns, the environment, brief weather spells, and heat and cool manipulation spells, to create weather based attacks. For instance – it takes a lot of energy to summon and sustain/direct a storm… but if Nami can create one with use of low power cooling/heating spells and the environment – she can do a lot.

- More Below!

A zoro that is Cursed to always be lost is something that I’ve seen often and Im HERE FOR IT! If someone could direct me to the original creator of that headcanon I would love to credit them for it! To Be Clear AGAIN this idea is not mine, but I want to credit whoever’s it is because I love it.

That aside, Zoro is like Nami in that he doesn’t know his magical heritage. However, as a child he got the misguided idea that more wand equals more power, which he somehow manages to make actually work. Thus, Zoro has three wands, each with powerful beginnings. Im thinking powerful dragon heartstrings core for one wand, Thestral for Kitetsu, and Rougarou hair for the last sword – Zoro’s a bloodthirsty kid and he needs some bloodthirsty wands :/

Usopp’s a halfblood! He’s kinda scared of Hogwarts as his magical parent (Yasopp) has kinda been outta the picture for the most part, but he’s ready for this!! As soon as the kid practically vibrating with excitement to his left doesn’t explode. Usopp originally desired to be part of Gryffindor – house of the Brave, right? But after talking to Luffy, he’s not so sure. He wants to be his own hero – all on his own, not because he part of the hero, brave house. When Luffy is sorted before him into Slytherin, Usopp makes the descsion to follow him, and follow his goal. He’ll show the world he can be the best!!

He grows to be really good at herbology and potions – an odd mix, but you know whats odder? Mixing the two to chuck at people for pranks then turning it into your fighting style. Go Usopp!

Brook’s a cursed ghost – he’s bound to his living body, but the body’s just bones and bones lol. He makes it work – people know him first as the Soul King after all! He can barely remember his school days, but hes vaguely sure he was in slytherin – he remembers many parties held in dungeons, looking out to the lake for sightings of a curious aquatic beast (Laboon!)

Franky’s still a shipwright, but of ~magic~ ships. His brother’s ships are better known, but his are more sought after by… certain people (more on that later.) When he was a kid, he walked straight into Hogwarts, looked for the table that had the people who would buy his stuff, and told the sorting hat he wanted to go there. Later, he runs more with the Gryffindor crowd, regretting his choice, but when he makes friends with a first Year who tells him where to find some Adam Wood in the Forbidden Forest, he stops regretting it so much.

Robin has a very shady past, and she’s only at Hogwarts for a year before disappearing into the world. She has an odd type of magic, somewhat like pareseltoungue, that allows her to read coded and ancient languages with some studying (our girl still puts in a lot of effort though!) She reappears many years later during Luffy’s first (possibly second) year, and becomes the new history teacher (sorry professor Binns!) People find her scary and suspicious, but Luffy likes to talk to her after class, when she tells him history more like a story than a lesson! She’s very good at duplication magic.

LUFFY. This boy. Where to start – he’s from a pureblood family, not that he cares, and has some serious magic talent – which he plans on using to travel the world and find the mysterious One Piece – a fabled artifact said to have one’s wishes granted. Luffy wants it to be free (his home life with Garp isn’t very good.) He has a couple famous brothers who have been through Hogwarts – Ace and Sabo, both Gryffindors and pretty big shots around Campus. No one knew they were brothers til Luffy busted into Gryfindor Dorms one night and looked for them. Luffy is exetremly good with nonverbal magic (something in this universe that will be elaborated on, as it features into Nami’s magic as well), not so much with verbal as the pronunciation trips him up. Potions is also hard and if it were not a required class he’d have been kicked out.

Will touch on Jimbe later once I figure him out

Now. Perhaps you are wondering – why do a bunch of kids have developed fighting abilities? Well – take a look at the plot.

This takes place not only in a Harry Potter setting, but in Harry’s own world as well. Meaning – Voldemort is rising, Harry’s still the chosen one, yadda yadda yadda. But do you honestly think that Voldemort is the only magical evil? That there isn’t a magical underworld not involved with his horrible schemes?

Cause there is one – and Luffy and crew are neck deep in it. While Harry and co. are off fighting Voldemort, Luffy is ‘sneaking’ around fighting big time criminals.

Imagine – this eleven year old child comes up to you, a big mob boss, and absolutely destroys you. That’s Luffy.

Underage Magic? You think Garp, head of something or other in the Ministry of Magic, is going to stop that from training his criminal grandsons to be the best Aurors they can be? He knows how to undo the spell (there must be something at Hogwarts that blocks the ministry from being informed of spell use during the school year!) and Luffy has been casting magic like it was second nature since he was real young. He’s taught it to his friends too!

So plotwise, its basically the school reacting to the Straw Hats, who don’t seem to be friends but are, the odd noticings of what their doing while Canon plot goes on, and the inevitable suspicion from Harry.

But oh? What about the ship thing? What’s Franky Doing with that?

Luffy is forever a pirate – and the sea is one magical thing I have yet to be seen explored in the Harry Potter Universe. Therefore – free realestate!!! Luffy’s going to be a magic pirate when he grows up, he’s been telling everyone this since he first met Shanks, and maybe no one believes him now but it’ll happen! Magic Pirates!! Yay!!!

That’s all I have for now, so send me questions if you have any! I might make this into (another) drabble series, or maybe just one big one shot. We’ll see!!!

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dievvalkure · 4 years

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Continued from ( x ) | @hymnofheaven

- “Hmm? Why would you say that I won’t be remembering this, Kagehira-kun?”

- “It’s true. It’s true that it’s no secret; I’m certain plenty of the students here harbor some kind of ill-will towards me, whether for my past actions, or for what I am today.”

- “That’s why, I’m not going to stop. Whether or not you keep on hating me for it, I will continue to sift talent from the dregs; only those worthy to stand on stage will remain…and it’ll do you and your Oshi-san well to keep on dancing.”

- “Fufufu…” :)

“ ...No reason. Just a feelin’ I had, along with the same feelin’ that let me come up to ya, when I wouldn’t have ever wanted to see ya otherwise... ”

Being in Eichi’s presence alone made Mika’s blood boil, and hearing him speak in that polite, yet condescending tone, complete with that ever-present smile on his face... Mika’s hands were clenched into fists by this point, trembling as he consciously made the effort to refrain from punching Eichi right then and there. However, no matter how much anger Mika felt towards Eichi, it wasn’t worth jeopardizing everything he and Shu had worked so hard for...

Certainly, there must’ve been some validity to Eichi’s motivations... but Mika simply couldn’t overlook the severity of the actions he took - the ‘means to an end’ approach by which he handled the events that transpired the year prior, and after hearing Eichi speak, Mika finally snapped.

“ Must be a real nice way to live, huh? Steppin’ on everyone ‘round ya, just so you can build your own little world on top of ‘em... and now that yer finally sittin’ on the throne, lookin’ down on everyone else, are ya satisfied, knowin’ how many people you’ve hurt to get there? ”

“ ...I ain’t sure if I hate ya, or if I just hate what ya did to Oshi-san, honestly. But it doesn’t change the fact that I sure ain’t approvin’ of anythin’ you did, not just to Oshi-san, but his friends too! ...Least he still has ‘em, but I wonder if the same can be said for ya, after you decided to use the people ‘round ya like they were pawns in your scheme! ”

“ People ain’t just for ya t’use, y’know! They’ve all got their own hopes ‘n dreams, their struggles ‘n hardships... but you didn’t even care ‘bout that, usin’ yer pretty little excuses to justify the pain you’ve caused! It really pisses me off that there’re people like ya in this world... but that’s just how it is, ain’t it? Can’t change a damn thing ‘bout it. ”

“ ...But I can’t wait t’see if you’ll still be laughin’ when Oshi-san finally makes his comeback, and he’ll show ya who the real Sovereign of Yumenosaki is. You may have dragged ‘im down an’ broken ‘im apart... but you didn’t destroy ‘im, and once he’s done puttin’ the pieces back together, he’ll be back for ya. ”

#hymnofheaven #Mika [Text]#[Queue]#( Mika went off... )

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stevecoleridge-posts · 4 years

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Day 6 ..Friday Struggling .. which is why i did nt see the news or spend time on Social Media yesterday.. I thought it would be a breeze and after a little concentration id have it down .. but no , even the first part…known as lumpedy lump was proving tough , because of the triplet walk up from the V to the 1.. and i think thats the part Jimmy Reed himself is playing… If you ve read previous episodes you will know i refer to Honest I Do….the song. Im learning it on a You Tube lesson , now a lot of people who think of themselves as pros , seem to think there s some sort of stigma ro learning stuff on You Tube, but i know a French guy , of Spanish descent , who is a really hot Flamenco guitarist who has mastered nearly all the Palos , and all on You Tube They are right, if you dedicate yourself to different songs at the same time, but it s like working form home…you need time and discipline ..and take the lessons very slowly and don’t move on till you can play it 20 times with your eyes shut..preferably standing up .. then move on up. Yesterday was the first time i managed to do this. There is a different tone on Social media today .. angrier , more prone to blame others, more censorious…and on one group forum i saw they were going to ban Humour..well , i don’t personally know the Group leader.. but it does nt take much imagination to know she s not someone you d want to be quarantined with. The only thing to fear is fear itself.. well i certainly don’t think that applies in this situation, quite the reverse, the more frightened we are the less we will venture forth on errands that are not strictly necessary..i was on my way out the door , literally, when my mobile rang…it was the charming woman from the bank.. she d got my message .. id gone way over my limit.. which was why i could nt withdraw funds…She , and i won’t name her, is working from Home and sorted it all out on her laptop..no need for me to go to town.. Is nt that great?..well , I thought it was..and a good thing too,as she has not been provided with any masks..and we are talking about a Bank..if they cant get basic stuff like that no wonder the Government are nt testing people .. they don’t have the wherewithal…it is nt as though this has nt been on the News everyday since December the something. .I remember listening to Radio Four as i was driving through Slough, in December,… don’t ask … the M4 was closed..and i was listening to a woman in Wuhan describing how her parents were dying in the Street.. that really got my attention. It did nt seem to get the attention of the people in charge here however, as when the inevitable arrived nearly three months later , they had done nothing to prepare for it. The Spanish Disease is politics, it creeps into every corner of life and spreads its poison , a bit like you know what,..and in the past when people got fed up with their venal politicians there was a Military Coup , and then they realised maybe life was better before with democracy … and the cycle starts again. This model has been exported successfully to Latin America.. with the possible exception of Mexico. and Costa Rica Its all very well for us stodgy Northerners with our bad weather , to criticise, but Sun affects people,and when things are good they seem so much better in the Sunshine..but something about Sunny weather produces Volatility, and an @ i won’t fix the roof as its not raining @ World View… and Italys colossal death rate is the price to be paid .. not that it is nt sunny in China..or South Korea..but they do a lot more than just fix the roof..and to put it down to Confucianism .. well maybe best not to start on that. Australia will be interesting, they have lots of sun , but its a pretty organised place ..and i don’t see them making this sort of Balls up.. also they have the experience of natural disasters,,and pulling together, and will not let Politics interfere…any country that had leaders with names like Abbott and Costello doesn’t waste too energy on petty politics. The Current Classic example of petty minded, spiteful, pointless, negative ,oppurtunism , is the attempt on social media and what sup groups to denigrate the Royal Family organising people to rattle saucepans at a given time, because apparently the current King s father had a rather large amount of money in a Swiss Account..well, it was Saudi Money , not money stolen from the Spanish taxpayer, unlike the billions stolen by the previous administration , the PP .The idea for this stupidity was inspired by the Custom of applauding the Medical profession every night at eight o clock.. an excellent morale boosting , bringing everyone together kind of gesture..well everything has its opposite and this is an excellent way to breed more discontent and fracture an all ready pretty fractured society.. it beggars belief and you really have to have lived here to see these Barca Madrid idiocies at first hand. Barca Madrid is a term used to describe the divide and conquer ,us and them , attitudes that have stopped Spains progress since the collapse of their Empire, culminating in the most vicious Civil War in recent European History, and one would have hoped that after 40 plus years of Democracy it would have disappeared , but sadly, like in the USA and a lot of other democracies , it seems to be on the increase.The anger on Social Media which results from the claustrophobic frustration of a lockdown will hopefully not boil over into something with unpleasant political consequences, which would be very sad , as after Francos death and the adoption of constitution that is the envy of many countries, Spain was a beacon of hope in the last quarter of the 20 th century… how the mighty are fallen .. one hopes not.. SPANISH LOCKDOWN DAY 7 Slept really well , but then I remember reading that people on Death row sleep 16 hours a day so possibly not a good sign. Last Night i watched the Spanish news ,on the main channel and things are looking up , relatively speaking, in the sense that testing has arrived ..someone, or some country, has sent several thousand, or may be half a million test kits.. which is obviously excellent news , and testing in Galicia is going full steam ahead. There was the obligatory item about a vaccine..which I think one can take with a pinch of salt. .Military erecting field hospitals next to various main hospitals…the eight o clock applause of medical staff…all in all well put together not too desperately pessimistic, and generally not as disheartening as Facebook.. afterwards i felt like some light relief so we watched eleven episodes of 2 and half men, in Spanish ,to cheer ourselves up before going to bed. .. Today i decided to live a normal day .. if such a thing were possible , so , after taking Tina for a walk i got the Old TV and DVD working and put on Marty Schwarz s Intermediate Blues Guitar Course part one…and it started raining .. so that was encouraging as it took away any temptation to venture outside.. except for firewood that is. I worked through the course without rushing , but also without too much pausing , as i d done those lessons before, and all that repetition of Honest I do is paying off.. On going outside for firewood i could not ignore the noise of the generator that kicked in yesterday evening, as we ve had not Sun for several days, so i decided to fill it up with diesel, and see how much 15 hours constant running had used,only half the 20 litre can to fill up the tank…but was it full to begin with?..anyway it s very rare to have 4 days without sun , so even if it did use 13 euros of diesel Im not going to freak out as that was expensive diesel.. and I’m entitled to use the cheaper stuff .Of cause i spilled Diesel over my hands , and shoes , and when i spent a good 5 minutes trying to wash the smell out i realised this was the ultimate anti virus test.. so i will leave a bowl of Diesel outside every time i go to town and use that as first part of the disinfection process , yet another excuse not to go to town. My neighbour M. rang and suggested i look at his scheme on Facebook to institute Food Deliveries , so one does nt have to go to the Supermarket in person and infect and be infected… a good idea of course , but like so many , i don’t see it happening…I pointed out several objections , lack of drivers, expense, one would need a sort of Uber program which will probably not be ready for a year .. etc..and the Supermarkets are making so much money i doubt they need this sort of input.I promised to look at it later , which I will , as Lunch was ready. We ve run out of Bread ,Oranges and Chocolate, Aurora has broken a nail and the nail bars are closed till further notice…but otherwise we can probably get through till Monday without suffering too much ..on the other hand Monday is probably the worst day to go shopping..Im toying with the idea of going to the small Supermarket, at 8 am Sunday morning, and hopefully having it to myself , as i cant face the idea of a queue. I know English people are supposed to love queueing but i must be an exception, and queuing nowadays is a High Risk Activity. The Sun is out and i did one of the jobs from a month old to do list… pumping the water out the flooded pump room , it all went very well , and i felt very worthy , and now , with the Sunshine it s time for a walk , with Tina , of course. I return , feeling optimistic .. and the phone rings, i assume it s my neighbour asking if I’ve read his article.it isn’t , it s C another near neighbour, with some very bad news . The police are in Quarantine…and the Army will soon be here. No Tobacco..as they will close the Tobacconist. A completely different ball game I rang M, and gave him the news…I f he d had a kalashnikov he d have been checking the magazine I rang another neighbour F, whose office is next to the Police Station , to warn him. .When the Rumour , comes to your Town , It Grows and Grows, Where it Started No-one Knows…*Robbie Robertson I rang my source in the Town Hall G…no , it s only one cop , and he has nt got the results yet.. I rang M again…he had spoken to his friend who is a Guardia Civil .no , it was nt a Cop it was a Guardia Civil..he also told me the Cuban woman who cleans houses had been stopped, by the Police and they checked the receipt for her shopping I rang the first neighbour and corrected the original story I opened Facebook .. and there was the original story , which had started a firestorm of comments along the likes of whats your source? etc as though we were in the Watergate hearings, not only that, the people reading the story imagined it referred to Mojacar , not Carboneras , and were all frantically ringing the Police Staion , The Town Hall and each other to see if it were true. The tones of the respective comments went from shrill outrage that anyone should suggest such a story without due documentation , to fear , to I knew this would happen, all these irresponsible idiots .. blah blah It began to increasingly resemble an episode of Dads Army with a false alarm about a German Landing.., which Facebook does anyway There is the Captain Mainwaring..@While i was out today making sure everyone was behaving themselves i saw these irresponsible panic shoppers, and these people walking around without a good reason @ The Fraser .. We Re Doomed The Air raid Warden…Its all the fault of the Ruling Class, and rules are rules etc Jones ..Dont Panic... in a tone of complete hysteria Pikes mother…Be sure to wear your gloves , motorcycle helmet , hazchem suit, mask..galoshes, .Do you have your hand sanitiser , all clothes must be burnt on reentry etc By this time Auroras original alarm had been replaced by hilarity, as she was sitting by the fire hearing one side of these conversations.. I went out for some more wood and we relaxed by watching a Documentary about the Boeing 737 MAX..complete with simulation in the Pilots cockpit The best part was the CEO of Boeing trying to justify his 30 million Dollar salary at a Congressional hearing..…i wondered what the Shareholders thought about that , i know what the victims families thought , as they were being interviewed and did nt sound too impressed

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journeysintowebcomics · 5 years

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Homestuck Liveblog #186

UPDATE 186: Political Assassination

Last time John finally got that tooth off his chest, and Jake agreed to give his endorsement to Karkaroni. Now what will happen? Let’s see.

Has it been days since Jade has been sitting on that couch, levitating and with her eyes completely black? Given everything that has happened in the meantime it sure feels like it has. Roxy’s getting worried, she tried to call Rose but she didn’t respond, so instead he goes for the next option she has: Dave. Who immediately brags about working to stop Jane from screwing up everything. The words ‘neoliberal austerity measures’ are unsaid but they’re like an echo when Dave talks about the presidential campaign, I bet. He’s busy handling Jake’s endorsement speech.

ROXY: i guess in the grand scheme of things

ROXY: shes just takin a sort of nap

ROXY: but its one HELL of a nap bro

‘one hell of a nap, davey, shes been blacked out for, like, a week’

It seems the troll candidate is more popular with the trolls and the carapacians than with the humans and consorts. How don’t they have more consort supporters? Hopefully Jake’s endorsement will change that.

ROXY: lmao dirk just texted me about this

ROXY: somehow he found out about jade did u tell him

DAVE: uh no

ROXY: he just said make sure she gets lotsa daylight

ROXY: that itll help with the “exorcism she needs”.....

ROXY: and also to say hi to calliope for some fuckin reason??

DAVE: thats weird

Well that makes clear what the best course of action is: don’t open the windows nor place her anywhere in the daylight. If Dirk’s advice will help with the exorcism she needs – to get Dead Calliope out – then it’s a bad idea. I’m enjoying this epilogue much more with Dead Calliope controlling the narrative, thanks.

It’s alarming Kanaya isn’t picking up either. Could Dirk have gotten rid of her? I sure hope not! Kanaya has done nothing wrong and deserves to stay alive, what with being the professional when it’s about troll reproduction. She better still be fine and kicking!

DAVE: i gotta give karkat some emotional support

DAVE: since gettin jake on our side was a pretty huge fucking bonanza for us

DAVE: which has almost equal probability of winning us the election as it does blowing up in our faces depending on this speech he gives

DAVE: so we gotta like

DAVE: concentrate here?????

DAVE: instead of jerking each other off all god damned day for the rest of our lives

DAVE: (im just joking we dont actually do that)

ROXY: oh

They don’t do that, much to Jade’s disappointment, I bet. Either way, it’s speech time!

The struggle to take control of the narrative is a petty squabble, says Dirk, taking the high ground by offering Dead Calliope a way out. Buddy, pal, friend, you can’t take the high ground and then insinuate Calliope is ugly as sin. That is petty.

Apparently everybody thinks Dave loves Karkaroni, and although I believe that too, it’s fine if Dave never comes to terms to that. The guy marches at the beat of his own drum, he’ll be fine. This kind of thing can’t be forced on him. Speaking of things that can’t be forced, Roxy wants to know how Dave came out to everyone else as not straight. Oh dear, Roxy, I don’t think Dave ever did that. You’re asking the wrong person – unless you want the answer to be ‘deny it for like eight years now’.

He’s not really denying it right now, though. Maybe he did come out to the others and I didn’t find out until now. He’s not comfortable enough with rapping about ‘boning dudes’ in middle of a stadium where so many people can see him, but he’s not running away from the question. Way to go, Dave! I approve character growth!

Somehow Dave has this entire spiel about all the steps of admitting not being straight. On what phase are you, Dave? Inquiring minds want to know. I’d paste the entire thing here, because it’s pretty good stuff, but it’d feel like I’m applying filler for the sake of applying filler, so I won’t.

Dirk really doesn’t want a conversation about gender. Personally I have to agree because, even though this is great for development and I appreciate all of Dave’s steps, this is kind of a random place to shove this in. Pretty bad place, really. It’d have been great at a different moment.

Horrendously invasive of Roxy’s deepest personal thoughts.

...uh, Dirk, you know what else is horrendously invasive? Taking over the narration and manipulating people around. Also the assimilation plan, that’s more than horrendously invasive.

Okay, this is going for long enough.

DIRK: Do you even know where I am right now?

DIRK: Do you have the slightest idea what I’m up to?

the prince is laboring under the delusion that he has been the least bit subtle in his intentions. he currently stands beneath the carapacian bell tower, poised to climb to the top. he holds the long, red sniper rifle that once belonged to roxy, brandishing it openly and boldly. he seems mysteriously oblivious to the fact that holding a long rifle in broad daylight somewhat tips one to the fact that he soon intends to shoot someone from a great distance. he also seems unaware of the fact that i know perfectly well that the top of this tower has a clear, long-range view of the stadium, allowing any competent sniper a clear shot of whoever happens to be standing at the podium as they give a speech. as jake english is about to do.

he also doesn’t seem to realize i have anticipated his attempt to assassinate his own friend in order to advance his political goals, and that i am prepared to take measures which make this impossible.

It really sounds like Dirk’s getting ready to shoot, he’s up at the right place and has a view of the stadium where Jake will be, but...I don’t know, ever since Roxy said Dirk messaged her about keeping Jade in the sunlight for ‘an exorcism’ I have been feeling uneasy, and now that this all was said just now, well, I kind of suspect Dirk may try to shoot and kill Jade. It sure would free her of Dead Calliope’s control and possibly give him back the control of the narrative. It’s a possibility, no?

Somehow the next few paragraphs resembles a schoolyard roleplaying fight. ‘You can’t reach the top of the stairs because...your feet feel really heavy’ ‘really? Then I can fly’ ‘and then the bell came crashing down on you!’ ‘I cut that stupid bell with my sword!’ ‘not fair!’ ‘yes fair!’. It’s endearing in its own way.

DIRK: He wonders out loud, “what is this, amateur hour”?

DIRK: The Dead Cherub then humorlessly narrates, “why, yes. yes mr. strider, it IS amateur hour. and i’m the amateur here, for throwing a huge bell at you. i would like to humbly apologize for my amateurism.”

no i don’t.

DIRK: Sure you do.

I’m having fun with this part, guys, I really am! This is great.

This is over when Dead Calliope, trying to stop the focus on Dirk and his increasingly petty narration, turns the attention back to Dave who must still be explaining to Roxy the intricacies of coming out to their friends. I see keeping a show in a standstill is a Strider family trait.

DAVE: well lets just say internalized whatevers are kind of like an onion

DAVE: theres lots of layers

DAVE: they suck on pizza

DAVE: and trolls have to get their stomach pumped if they eat them

That has got to be the most contrived simile Dave has said in recent history.

Dirk continues saying very clearly he’s about to shoot Jake, and the more he states that so bluntly the more I suspect there’s something else going on.

‘Xenophobe’ and related words are starting to stop looking like a real word. It just has been said so many times.

Everything is making Dave feel like something’s wrong – undoubtedly Dead Calliope’s influence – so he gets in the path of any potential bullets, protecting Jake with his own body.

and despite dave’s quick and well-justified action, what is also unbeknownst to him is that the sniper no longer poses a threat of pulling that trigger. because everyone knows that for all of the prince’s shortcomings, he would never expose his beloved brother and son to the risk of a heroic death.

DIRK: You’re absolutely right.

DIRK: I would never do that.

DIRK: I’d never kill Dave, no matter what I felt the stakes were. I’d never hurt him either.

I’m pretty willing to bet taking over Dave’s self doesn’t count as killing or hurting him, therefore it’s fair game. Dave would be pretty unhappy to know what Dirk’s doing, anyway. The narrative reveals what’s in the sniper rifle are not bullets, they’re tranquilizers. It’d be a non-fatal way of keeping someone out of the way for a while. The second thing Dead Calliope got wrong, though...

DIRK: Yes. You’re right about the tranquilizer.

DIRK: But there’s one more fact you’re not aware of.

DIRK: Which is that I never intended to aim for Jake at all.

Well then! Turns out I may have been right about that he intends to shoot Jade. He must feel really confident about it if he can announce it aloud after aaaall the charades he did to fool Dead Calliope. Is it Jade, Dirk? Will you tranquilize Jade and pretty much put her to sleep – non-fatally?

Dirk spins in what must be the tiniest bell tower ever, given he only has to spin to change direction and be able to aim somewhere else, and gets ready to shoot. All Dead Calliope can do is freeze Dirk’s finger on the trigger, but he thought ahead and made the rifle to be voice-operated. All he has to do is say ‘fire’. Which he does! Game over for Dead Calliope?

Pretty good aim, hitting a vein from all this distance. Jade indeed has gotten tranquilized, and I’m pretty sure given this isn’t the first time Dirk uses tranquilizers – he uses them in TV – it shouldn’t be too hard for anyone to realize this is Dirk’s orangey shady hand making the moves.

The insult against Jade is uncalled for, Dirk. But yeah, the result of all this is that Dirk is once again back in control of the narrative, which makes me sigh with exasperation. I really liked Dead Calliope’s narration more than Dirk’s, so I’m not looking forward to this change.

Roxy drops to her knees by the couch, pulls the dart out of Jade’s neck, and tries to shake her awake. But it’s no use. That’s a heavy dose I gave her. Could be out for weeks. Maybe months? Can’t have any cherubs messing with my business on this planet. At least not until I’ve taken my leave. But Jade’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry about that.

So...she’s pretty much in a coma. Could be worse, could be worse. She could be dead. This is barely better.

Cherubs are fuckin’ weird, I’ll totally concede. Still not sure what makes them tick. What they idealize, what they really want. It all comes across to me as a little cloying. Perfection to them is a sweetness beyond comprehension. Sugar so potent it’s poison to us. To our bodies, to our souls. Like the place she was operating from was a realm of self-construction. A bubble of pure, phantasmal confection.

Well, I for one have had enough of that goddamn toothache. I’m back in the protein saddle, motherfuckers. I’m clacking my tongs, and the charcoal is hot.

Now who’s hungry for meat?

Does that mean the candy epilogue is all Dead Calliope’s influence seeping through instead of Dirk’s? It could be interesting to see what kind of thing she does to the world. Although...given the effects of the trickster lollipop and how ‘sweetness beyond comprehension’ is perfection to them, it’s bound to be nightmarish. I’m actually looking forward to that!

Speaking of meat, holy shit. You just look more fucked up every time we come back to you, don’t you, John?

You’re a disgraceful mess right now. Covered in blood, mysteriously sticky, bruised all over your arms, legs, and neck. Terezi practically raked rows into your back. You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror. You’re kind of embarrassed by what a postcoital train wreck you look like when all she’s got is mussed hair. And you should be embarrassed. Seriously, it’s like you were mauled by a wild animal. Jesus, don’t either of you have any shame?

Ah. Okay then, good for them, although I’m pretty concerned. Such a physically intensive activity can’t be good for the guy with a gaping hole in the chest and the troll who still must be half-starved. I won’t be surprised if these two just pass out and die anytime soon. I’m not entirely sure, but it seems things are awkward now between these two. Maybe it was all a spur-of-the-moment move.

You sit together on the hatch, like when you first met up days ago. Terezi crawls into your arms, and nuzzles right up against your chest so you have no choice but to hold on to her. You would have done it anyway if she asked, because you’re a total sap. The kind of guy who no doubt thinks banging a girl in a car is some deep, soul-shattering experience that bonds you for life. Yeah, John, you do think that. You think that you and Terezi are basically married now.

I can’t tell if he really thinks that or if Dirk’s funneling those thoughts into him. The line between what the character feels and what Dirk wants them to feel is pretty blurry by now.

After all this, Terezi gives up on looking for Vriska, so this is a prime moment for her to fly by and find them. She doesn’t, though, and John proposes Terezi to go home with him. Can they even go home? John is so tired it’s possible they can’t – which he really should have thought about before doing said physically intensive activity. Nobody to blame but yourself, John. Seriously, you have an open wound and bled like four liters of blood. You’re as good as dead.

He feels the urge to lie down and sleep, which is a pretty bad idea given the situation. Terezi rouses him up, so instead he decides to give this a try and zap back home. Hmmmm...if he’s so tired right now, it’s possible the act of zapping home will drain whatever energy he has left, so I’m not...very optimistic about John’s chances of survival. Would this count as a heroic death? Can you die from a heroic death if you die like two weeks after the offending injury is made? If he dies from exertion after having sex with Terezi that doesn’t count as a death because having sex with Terezi is neither heroic nor just, no? Oh well.

Back in the stadium, the inexistent assassination attempt may have given Karkaroni a push in the polls, and Dirk spends quite a while brandishing Jake like a piece of meat. Really, can he be treated as more than a flat character whose only non-flat trait is his posterior? Jake’s nervous and fidgets around, so much Dave and Karkaroni show concern and offer to cancel the speech and/or the campaign. It seems our favorite presidential troll still doesn’t like the idea of having leadership, he’s ready to throw the towel anytime. Jake insists he can do it, so he starts!

I don’t remember Dirk being so outright antagonistic in Homestuck. It’s making me pretty uncomfortable, I have to admit. It feels kind of out of nowhere, just like Jane’s sudden xenophobic inclinations are. What was Hussie thinking when he wrote all this? What was his intention?

Jake’s getting pretty nervous and I can’t tell if he’s getting stage fright or if Dirk’s influencing him to be nervous. The latter is a possibility, no? Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what’s going on.

Why don’t you have a good, long think about that, Jake.

Is this really the time for a good, long think? Jake muses to himself, actually putting a finger to his chin like some public domain clip art picture of a befuddled guy. If the crowd is confused by his rapid-cycle mood changes, they don’t show it. Jake’s got a bit of a day-drinking problem, which has been slavishly documented in the global tabloids. That’s how you avoid responsibility, isn’t it, Jake? You can fool your fans, but not yourself. The truth is that there’s a canniness to the act. It’s partially cultivated. You’re stupid, but you’re not nearly as stupid as you pretend to be.

JAKE: What in the devil was i thinking coming here?

JAKE: Why did I...?

JAKE: I came here to...

... slide the biggest knife any motherfucker ever wielded directly into your friend Jane Crocker’s back?

She loves you, Jake, more than anything, and you toyed with her heart. And you would have guiltlessly toyed with her “kettle drums” too had it not been for a bit of divine intervention, let’s decide to call it.

Sigh. That’s...that’s all I can do with all this. Sigh and keep reading. Third time I’m scrolling through the epilogue a tad faster than I should. It’s pretty much an entire page of gaslighting. Nothing really worth delving into, mainly because it’s pretty uncomfortable to read such a thing. Dirk’s being the abusive ex, pretty much. Nothing really worthwhile.

JAKE: I love dirk!

JAKE: IM IN *LOVE* WITH DIRK!!!

And to love Dirk is to obey him.

You know, there are a few reasons why I’m thinking of liveblogging these epilogues. I’ll explain them later, but right now I may as well say a word of two: the epilogue is competently written. The events in it are interesting, and the interactions are raw and full of emotion. It’s all pretty unpleasant to read, which makes it a bit novel, like swallowing bitter medicine. It’s pretty good, in a technical way.

But it simply doesn’t work with Homestuck characters. It just doesn’t.

Anyway, let’s continue scrolling down to the end of the page and go to the next.

I was right in that zapping back to Earth C would take what was left of John’s energy. He barely can give three steps before he falls down, so it’s all up to Terezi now. She wants to bring John to Jane, so she can revive him. I don’t think she has revived him before, so it should be a good idea. It’d be better to bring Jane to John, though.

It doesn’t matter. This isn’t a wound you can recover from. It’s Game Over this time: no healing, no afterlife, no cosmic clock proclaiming your sacrifice as Heroic. The poison needling through you is antithetical to narrative relevance. You’re not dying, John. You’re being erased. Cherubs don’t fuck around. We’ve both been learning that the hard way.

Oh, nevermind, it’s something not even Jane with her life powers can fix. I wonder if, once John is erased, nobody will remember him. That’s what happens when there’s no place for you in a narrative, no? Hmmm...

John already know he’s irreversibly going to die, and tells Terezi not to waste her time, that he was dead the moment Lord English bit him. Which is true, given this poison. Then he says he was dead the moment he woke up that morning, which...I suppose is the depression talking.

You died the moment you made the decision to go meet your destiny. You would have lived if you made the other decision, under a certain definition of the word “living.” You might have even lived until the end of your immortal life span, as shitty as that sounds.

So he’d have lived for the rest of his life if he had decided to do nothing. Makes sense. This may have been for the better, given Lord English needed to be defeated, so it’s time well-spent. It’s rather unfortunate it involves John’s death, but...in a way I saw this coming. Pretty tragic outcome, and given this epilogue has been chock-filled with a lot of tragedy and pessimistic scenarios, it only made sense this would happen.

It’s dying words time! Terezi is really affected because she really cares for John, and also they had a ‘emotionally significant sexual encounter’, so she’s even willing to listen to all the sappy stuff John will say in his deathbed. This is bound to be rather emotional! And the fact he can’t even think of something appropriate to say in his final moments is what makes it emotional because this isn’t how he imagined this would go. He can’t even think of quotes from his movies. Terezi offers to tell everyone John Egbert said some cool stuff in his final moments and make everybody believe it somehow, so instead John goes straight towards the sappy and tragic. There he goes!

JOHN: i think... i really lo—

TEREZI: DONT YOU D4R3

JOHN: i... r-really lov—

TEREZI: DONT YOU D4R3 FUCK1NG D13 ON M3 1N TH3 M1DDL3 OF 4 LOV3 CONF3SS1ON!

TEREZI: 1 FORB1D 1T!!!

JOHN: but... i...

JOHN: i...

Then John dies in the middle of a love confession.

Love confession on the deathbed! It’s like this truly came from a movie, haha. Terezi is devastated, so much she can’t even bring herself to cry properly. Once she confirms he’s dead, she ponders what she should do now, alone in the world John wanted to bring her to. She doesn’t have anything else to do, so after a moment – and at Dirk’s behest – she takes John’s corpse in Dad Egbert’s wallet and starts walking.

It has been a month already. Jane won the election after what I figure was Jake’s endorsement speech for her, so that’s that. Terezi has been rather lost this whole month, and nobody has seen John Egbert – instead of saying he’s dead -- so I suppose she hasn’t told anyone he’s dead. Rose has been missing the entire time and Kanaya has been pushed around by Dirk’s machinations to keep him distracted while he keeps Rose locked away somewhere, both mentally and physically, I figure. All in all, it’s a pretty grim outlook for everybody in Homestuck. Also, Jade is still in coma. Terezi goes to visit her, perhaps to tell her what happened to John?

Dirk continues being so salty Roxy’s experimenting with her gender, apparently. Aren’t there a million other things to deal with, pal?

Roxy is very glad to see Terezi, and she takes Terezi thinking she’s Dave as a compliment. She also compliments Terezi, giving her some heartache because it makes her remember the time she spent with John. It may have been a few hours, apparently. Time works in mysterious ways up there in paradox space!

The reason Terezi is here is because she feels John would come here, and she’s right, I bet. John would want to check on Jade as much as he can, so now that she’s carrying John’s cadaver around, she feels she should handle this all herself. It’s also confirmed she hasn’t told anyone John is dead.

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out

ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home

ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all

ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls

TEREZI: WH4T?

ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise

ROXY: some of it is like

ROXY: weird and violent??

ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um

ROXY: nudity????

TEREZI: >:?

ROXY: yeah yikes

ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit

ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

ROXY: so it was hard as hell to convince them to let me come see jade at all

ROXY: its like theyre traumatized

ROXY: and they think ill drag whatever possessed jade back into our home with me

So the end result for Calliope is that she’s traumatized. Seeing a dead version of herself possessing Jade must have really rattled her. As I said, this is all pretty grim for everyone in Homestuck, goodness. Although...part of me wonders if her current state is partly because of Dirk’s influence. He’s petty enough to mess with the living Calliope’s head as a ‘take that’ for Dead Calliope.

Someone tries to contact Terezi through her phone, she’s not sure who it’d be. Perhaps Dirk? He did show a preference to sending messages to his former friends and acquaintances. As if things weren’t awkward enough for Terezi, she’s asked if she knows what happened to John. Terezi, you can’t keep this under wraps forever. Sooner or later you have to tell everyone John died because of injuries in Lord English’s fight.

It seems Terezi can hear Dirk perfectly even when he’s talking in the narration, I suppose it’s because of her aspect. Oh, be careful with the stuff you say, Dirk! She’s also willing to whisper stuff to address Dirk, even if it gets odd looks from other people. On the other hand, this kind of leaves her more vulnerable to Dirk’s machinations, no? Part of manipulating people is responding to what they say, so with some luck this won’t go belly-up.

Once the conversation is over Roxy leaves and Dirk exposits Terezi still feels guilty about hiding John’s death from everyone, and she can’t even confide in Dave because of mistakes she did as a teenager in another timeline. It’s the curse of having the Mind aspect, isn’t it? Knowing what the choices cause. All of Dirk’s exposition bothers Terezi enough for her to tell him to scram, and he refuses to do so.

Come on, Terezi. You don’t belong here. You know you don’t belong here.

Do you feel threatened by Terezi, Dirk? Is that why you’re trying to push her away? I don’t think Terezi has anything that could be particularly useful against Dirk’s plans, so I’m not sure why he’s bothering to mess with her like this. She even points out they barely have crossed words.

Okay, I believe he feels threatened by her in some manner because he tries to convince her to join him in...some place. More like he wants her out of Earth C. He even offers to let her take John with her, which is why I’m sure he made her pick up the corpse, so he could manipulate her by using John. He finally leaves her alone with her thoughts, sure he managed to convince her enough. We’ll see.

Stopping for now!

Next time: next update

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #webcomics #liveblog #webcomic liveblog

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cherrybracelets · 5 years

Note

im late to the party so i apologize but what about 79+81 w/ ben or joe ?

did this w ben bc it’s been a while and this is so soft my heart is horny hope u enjoy

“So that’s pretty much it. The launch will be in about two months, assuming everything goes as planned. Does anyone have any comments? (Y/N), what about you?” You boss looked at you and you snapped your head up. You had been weaving in and out of this meeting all day.

“What’s that?” You mumbled. You stared intently down at your phone, waiting for something, anything to pop up. It had been three days since Ben spoke to you. You knew the fight you had was bad but... this was killing you.

“Do you have any ideas you’d like to add about this new project?” He asked, smiling politely at you, trying to pretend you weren’t completely ignoring this entire conversation.

“Uh, no. No. Everything’s fine.” You smiled and nodded up and him, and gave him a thumbs up, which you immediately regretted.

“Is everything okay? You literally have an opinion about every single thing we do. Not like you to just blindly agree with me.”

“I’m just going through some stuff. Family, personal. Just a bit distracted. I’m sorry.” You tapped your fingers on the desk in front of you and took a sip of water, trying to avoid eye contact.

“It’s alright. You’re never like this, so it must be a pretty big deal. Why don’t you head out, we’re pretty much done here anyway.” He nodded at you and motioned towards the door. You thanked him and speedily walked out of the conference room and to your office to grab your things. All you wanted to do was go home and crawl in bed for four days.

When you finally walked into your office you nearly screamed at the sight of Ben sitting in your chair, playing with his thumbs.

“What the fuck dude, you scared the shit out of me!” You shrieked. He clearly hadn’t seen you come in either as he quickly jumped up from his chair and had a startled look on his face.

“Oh god, babe I’m so sorry.” He said awkwardly and bit his nails.

“Babe? You’re calling me babe? You haven’t spoken to me in days and then you think you can just show up here and call me babe and everything will be ok?”

“I’m so sorry I upset you. I really messed up. I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong. It’s just, when I found out you were with him... it just made me nervous. I’ve been hurt so many times before and I love you so much, more than anyone, and I didn’t think I could handle being hurt again.”

“Ben, it didn’t mean anything. He’s my ex for a reason. But his mom died, and we were together for four years. The least I could do was buy him a cup of coffee and check up on him.”

“I know, I know. And you deserve so much better than me. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry. And I know this won’t fix things and if you still want to leave me I understand, but I got something for you.” Ben looked down to your desk, and you followed his eyes to see a small pastel pink box wrapped in white ribbon.

“What’s this?” You picked the box up and held it in your hand.

“Just open it, please.”

You began to unravel the ribbon, and took the lid of the box off to find a shiny gold key in the center.

“Move in with me. I’ve never loved anyone like you before. Ever. So much that it fucking scares the shit out of me. Every night I just lay in bed alone waiting for morning to come so I can see you again. I don’t wanna wait anymore. Move in with me.”

“Oh my god... Ben... I love you. I love you. Oh my gosh I love you!” You ran over to him and gave him the largest hug. You kissed him long and passionately on the lips and then on the cheek.

“So that’s a yes?” He smiled, his hand wrapped in your hair.

“Of course. And I can’t wait! I have so many ideas to redecorate and - OH! We definitely have to get new counters in the kitchen-“

“We’ll hold on there, you’re just moving in, this isn’t an episode of Queer Eye.” He smiled at you, and sat back down in your office chair. You sat on his lap, his hands around your waist, and you spent the next hour aimlessly scrolling through pinterest boards of color schemes and curtain designs.

#ben hardy fluff #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #queen #taylor talks #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy blurb #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #taylorwrites

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kitanoko · 6 years

Text

Note: Hey guys I’m back with part 2, I’ve decided to make this 3 parts ‘cas I have way too many things I wanna write. Here’s Dr.Todoroki meeting up with Designer Momo and amongst that, him talking to his friends thru the phone :P Enjoy!

In which the doctor meets his match 2/3

Just fifteen minutes before, Todoroki had finished up seeing the last few patients prior to his usual lunch break. He tossed his pen and notepads on the side, shrugged his coat off leaving himself only with a Henley and khakis, and hung it on a hook. Stretching his arms to open up the knot in his tense shoulders, Todoroki groaned and left his office. Kendou was there turning off the lights, strolling casually to the door to flip the sign from ‘open’ to ‘be right back’ and grabbed her phone on the counter.

“Tetsutetsu?” Todoroki asked, a smirk gracing his chapped lips.

Kendou tried to hide her blush with the folder in her hand but couldn’t. “Yes, he’s waiting for me to try out the new gelato place in the next block.”

“Ah, I see, well have fun.”

“You want to join us, Todoroki?” Kendou said, a bit hesitant. She was obviously asking out of politeness; her relationship with Tetstutetsu, her childhood friend, had been rocky for a while but Todoroki was glad that they seemed to have figured things out as of late. Todoroki shook his head in response to her offer.

“I wouldn’t want to disturb you guys, you know I can’t function without espresso.”

Kendou gave a toothy laugh. “Alright doctor, careful though, too much caffeine isn’t good for your heart.”

Heart huh. Todoroki thought, stepping out with hands in his pocket. Reminded him of the black-haired lady that came in earlier. What was her name again?

The woman that saw him for her ‘heart problems’ somehow dwelled in his mind; he was one for few words, weighing heavily on actions rather what comes out of his mouth, and he wondered why he felt suddenly so curious about her. Maybe he should’ve striked a conversation. He chastised himself. What was he talking about, he’s a doctor for pete’s sake. His job strictly forbid such interactions. Plus, it wasn’t like she was special.

Turning around the corner and dodging a pair of bikers, Todoroki saw his destination looming ahead. Almost every weekday, he’d be at the local Pacific Coffee at 12 o’clock on the dot.

The bell rung above his head when he pushed through the glass door and Todoroki was once again greeted with smiles all around from the baristas there. He became a loyal customer starting from a year ago when his clinic first opened nearby; unbeknownst to him, Todoroki was the talk of the store ever since. Whenever he visited, the staff would try to get his attention. Failing miserably so, of course.

The doctor sauntered over, asked for an espresso (leaving behind a healthy tip) and waited patiently.

Something then caught his attention. It was the ‘heart problem’ woman.

“Dr.Todoroki.” He heard her say into her phone, face etched with annoyance, “Yes he’s quite easy on the eyes ---“

Gossiping about him was she? He listened further, eyebrow cocked and feeling elated.

“No, it means he sounds boring.”

Did he hear that right? HIM. BORING?

Todoroki gritted his teeth, lips no longer curving upwards, though succumbed to his thoughts; yes perhaps he wasn’t the most interesting or the most humorous like his friends but he wasn’t THAT bad was he?

Oh crap, now she hung up and was about to stroll right into him, he better step aside—

In an instant he felt a gush of hot liquid tainting his shirt, good thing it didn’t burn him though (he wasn’t ready for two burns in his lifetime) but the woman was horrified at the consequence.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” The woman donned an expression Todoroki couldn’t describe. He watched her perturbed as she grabbed as many tissues as she could after she threw her now half- empty cup away. He pulled at the edge of his shirt to see the damage.

He was about to say ‘don’t worry about it’ but was loss for words at her motherly concern. Todoroki opened his mouth before Yaoyorozu looked straight in his heterochromatic eyes.

Hand lifting away from his chest, her dark orbs met his with dither.

“Doc—Doctor Todoroki?!” She stammered, stepping backwards. He pulled her slightly to him at her elbow.

“Watch out,” he said, stopping her from bumping to yet another unsuspecting customer, “You don’t wanna hurl someone’s coffee over yourself.”

Yaoyorozu flinched.

“I will pay you for your dry cleaning, or how about I buy you a new shirt—“

The woman’s gaze wondered over from his coffee stained chest in which the wet fabric was clinging on all the way down to his abs and --

“No need, this shirt’s old anyway.”

The woman snapped out of her reverie and flipped a piece of dangling hair away from her heated cheeks, almost ready to bow apologetically. “I’m very sorry. Really. I—“

Todoroki wanted to chuckle. “Seriously, calm down, it’s a shirt. Your latte on the other hand,” he paused before taking out some change, “Let me get you a new one.”

“What? I’m the one who poured it all over you…”

“But I was the one who stood right behind you. Let’s just say fault’s half half?”

Yaoyorozu seemed very satisfied with that conclusion and the man’s eyes lingered a little bit too long at her glossy lips.

“Alright, if you say so.”

~~~

Mina would obliterate her if she knew she was now on somewhat a ‘coffee date’ with the doctor she’s obsessing over. Yaoyorozu herself wasn’t that intrigued of course. Even if he had perfect abs and an even more perfect face. Okay and hair and the way it would move, mixing in white and red in the breeze…okay Yaoyorozu focus.

She pressed both her palms neatly around the warm, steaming drink, and let the fumes of coffee enter her nostrils in enticement. She noticed his apprehension.

“Your name’s…”

“Yaoyorozu Momo,” The woman answered. She didn’t blame him for forgetting, her name wasn’t the easiest to say or the most common. The man in front of her was quiet and she decided he wasn’t a social butterfly even with fans running to his feet.

Sitting outside in the patio seemed nice at least. She could hear the background jazz riding on the wind as the baristas came in and out to tidy up the tables. The string of mini lights adorning the edge of the rooftop and the sienna moldings that gave an air of sophistication made her smile. Yaoyorozu remembered how long it took her to decide on the paintings that hung inside as well; she probably lost two nights of sleep because of this project.

The owner was so in awe of the results that she gave Yaoyorozu a generous gift certificate as well as a VIP card.

Thinking back she wondered when she actually had a long vacation was.

The black-haired lady observed the man sitting across from her brushing away a maple leaf that had drifted onto the table, his nose wrinkling a bit at the scent of his drink. Her heart began beating extremely hard without warning again and she clutched her chest.

Todoroki stared at her, immediately rising from his seat. “Are you okay? Let me check again, this looks way more serious than before.”

Yaoyorozu waved both of her hands in defense. “No, no please, I feel much better now.”

He sat back down but his cloudy expression didn’t let up.

“If you’re in pain you have to let me know.”

The woman nodded, biting her bottom lip sheepishly.

“So um...is the espresso good?” She attempted lamely, the ache in her chest hadn’t subsided though. Perhaps he was her weakness.

“Yea but I think the beans are a bit over-roasted. Otherwise, it’s my go-to whenever I feel drowsy.” He answered.

Silence again. The squeaking of chairs and clinky of dishes beside them was all they could hear.

Todoroki cleared his throat and Yaoyorozu continued to watch him. Whatever Mina and those fangirls saw in him, she wanted to find out. He was extremely non-reactive however; more so than Yaoyorozu had expected of someone his caliber. Does he not network?

But he did buy her the latte, his mannerisms were decent (clearly from a high-class family, no doubt about that) and was a gentleman the whole way through.

Yaoyorozu began to sip the last few drops of the coffee after a faint sigh.

“So what’s your occupation?”

She glanced at him through her eyelashes.

“Im an interior designer,” Yaoyorozu replied.

“I’ve always enjoyed designing myself,” the man opposite of her said, “It’s interesting, how environment could change so much of one’s psychology.”

She thought back to his office.

“Orchids were a nice touch.” She clicked her fingers along the rim of the cup, “It really soothes the soul, and the monochromatic colour scheme fits.”

“I’ve always wanted to make it more of a traditional Japanese style, you know with paper lanterns, calligraphy and tatami mats? But it didn’t seem appropriate for a medical office.”

Yaoyorozu scoffed wondering how that would’ve turned out, and watched the aquamarine in his eyes light up in the sun’s golden rays. A silly thought crossed her mind; she was reminded of Kendou, the lady working as admin, and contemplated whether they were dating. They were both tremendously beautiful and she wouldn’t be surprised if they had something for each other.

Anyway. None of her concern.

“Yeah that’s true,” she rounded back on topic, “May I ask which interior designer you hired?”

Todoroki rolled his shoulders back, leaning comfortably. “Hitoshi Shinsou.”

“Oh, our biggest rival.”

Todoroki tilted his head a bit. “Really? Interesting, you must work for ‘Erase’ then. The other company I considered.”

The woman couldn’t contain her sly grin. “Yupp, I’ve worked there as long as I could remember and you know what, we could’ve done it better.” She crossed her arms, almost urging him to retort.

The man cocked a brow. This cheeky woman.

“I think I’d need to see some of your designs before I make a conclusion.” Todoroki noted and Yaoyorozu waved a slight hand over to her right.

“Take a look for yourself.”

The man’s eyes rounded. He had always admired the vibe the shop gave off but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. From the dim stage lights above the shelves, the mahogany display area for the shop’s beans and the wave-like baseboards on the wall, Todoroki had previously decided the ambience was a notch above most.

“You did this? For Pacific Coffee? I’m impressed. Maybe next time when I need a whole new makeover I’ll call you.”

“’Course, we can do what you ask for and better,” Yaoyorozu beamed.

“Could I get your number then?”

She took out a business card wedged between the card holder behind her phone and slid it over to him with two fingers. Todoroki ran a contented gaze on the matte minimalistic card.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to give you a shout.”

He read his watch, 12:43.

“And looks like my lunch is just about over,” Todoroki said, watching her wanton smile transform to a soft line of disappointment. Or maybe it was just his imagination.

“O..Oh yes of course, I better go home too and get some rest as per the doctor’s orders.” Yaoyorozu quickly joked. She felt herself craving to talk to him some more which seemed to be a miscalculation on her part. The whole time before she was thinking how much of a boring log he was and now she didn’t want him to leave? Yaoyorozu chastised herself inwardly.

“Nice meeting you, Yaoyorozu.”

“Call me Momo and,” she pointed at his dirtied shirt, “ I hope you get the stain off.”

Todoroki did a small nod, his hand again combing from his bangs to the crown of his head. Yaoyorozu bit her lip tenderly. “You can call me Shouto and yeah, don’t worry.”

She answered with a grin.

“Goodbye Shouto.”

“See you.”

The man slumped down on the couch; after a day’s work he needed a drink. Todoroki poured himself a whiskey on the rocks and turned on some classics on his stereo and flopped his head backwards onto the cushion.

Yesterday his accidental meeting with Yaoyorozu had still lingered on his mind and suddenly he recalled his first date. It was with another doctor whom he had met during his residency. She was the one who initiated it, and he accepted. The dinner was okay, she talked a lot and didn’t intrigue him and didn’t seem to understand what personal space meant. All in all, he cut her off after the first date and he tried again for another date with another woman. This time she was a bestselling author. He was the one who asked her out and she appeared to be quite comfortable with him until things got too comfortable and again she wouldn’t stop shutting up about her books. Thus things ended on a sour note.

Todoroki gulped down the cool liquid that coated his throat, leaving a bittersweet taste on his tongue and swirled his crystalline glass a little. The sound of the clacking ice woke him and he fetched out Yaoyorozu’s card, fidgeted with it until he concentrated on her number.

923-1011

Should he give her a call? Maybe say he needed help with designing a new…uh…

Todoroki looked around the room, his saltwater aquarium eerily glowing behind him.

Yes, perhaps design a new fish tank.

He shook his head. Ugh no that wasn’t her job. How about a new living room?

He did another quick scan. But he liked the way it was and had gotten used to it.

Then something clicked in him. He hurried to scroll for Kendou’s contact on his phone and dialed.

After a few moments, he heard response from the other side.

“Hey Kendou?”

“Uh…hey Todoroki,” she sounded a bit disheveled, “can I uh…help you with something?”

Was there someone else in the background?

Todoroki grimaced. “Ah sorry if I’m bothering you and Tetsutetsu,” he said, “hey what do you think about getting our office a new look?”

Kendou mumbled something sounding like she was trying to fend off Tetstutetsu.

“Yeah sure I guess? But the clinic is relatively new, you really think we need a renovation already?”

Todoroki clicked his tongue. “Well, I just thought it’d be nice, I saw mold on the crownings already.”

“I could wipe the mold away with some diluted bleach, we don’t need to demolish everything just because there’s fungi on the walls.”

The man slapped his palm against his forehead. Now he just sounded stupid.

“True, but I um…” Todoroki dawdled for a bit before he heard Tetstutetsu grab the phone away from a protesting Kendou.

“Hey TETSU—“

“Yo doc,” Tetsutetsu sounded irritated, “Yaya get new ceilings, doors, walls, whatever. You do what you want okay, now let’s leave it at that. Bye bruh.”

And Tetsutetsu hung up.

The man looked at his phone slightly aghast at the sudden intrusion from Tetsutetsu and decided he’d take that as a ‘yes’ from Kendou. However, something spoke to him to ask at least one more friend if he was sane or absolutely out of his mind. After all, spending thousands of dollars just to get close to this one girl? Was that how he’s going to get her to like him?

Todoroki snapped himself back to reality, tapping absentmindedly against his glass and putting it down. The contact below Kendou was Kirishima, and the one before was Kaminari, should he phone either just to check? Or maybe Midoriya?

Out of convenience, he phoned Kirishima. A few more rings and he heard a sound.

“Uh, Kirishima?”

Todoroki wondered why it was so noisy on the other side.

“YO TODOROKI, SUP BRO,” Kirishima was screaming, “SORRY MAN I’M AT THE BAR WITH BAKUGOU RIGHT NOW.”

The man squinted. “Alright, sorry it’s nothing, I’ll see you later.”

Kirishima shouted again, electronic music in the background was starting to give Todoroki a migrane. “OKAY ALRIGHT. I’LL PHONE YOU LATER. K.”

Clack.

Todoroki thumbed up to Kaminari’s name to give it a go. Now laying his whole body on the couch, he wondered what Kirishima did to get Bakugou to go to a party.

“Hello?” Kaminari’s voice suddenly came, “Todoroki? Hey whats up.”

“I have a question.”

“Uh…okay? I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be asked a question from DOCTOR Todoroki.” Kaminari joked and Todoroki rolled his eyes.

“Yeah it’s something you’re good at.”

“Oh shit, you wanna get a girl.”

The man flipped over on his side on the couch and took a deep inhale. Then exhaled.

“Yes.”

“OH SHITTTT YO,” Kaminari covered his side of the phone and cried out to whoever at the back, but Todoroki could still hear him clear as day, “TODOROKI’S TRYNA GET A GIRL.”

“Let me talk to him!” Was that Midoriya?

“No, let ME talk to him.” Okay that was obviously Tokoyami.

Todoroki waited for a bit. “Hey you guys having a group hangout without me?”

Kaminari’s voice turned mopey. “Well you’ve been quite busy lately so we all just last minute planned to meet up. Now we all know why you’ve been so occupied.”

Snickers all around.

“No,” Todoroki mused, “I just met her yesterday.”

He heard a gasp from the other side, “You fell for a girl you just met yesterday? Jesus, she must be a piece of work aint she?”

“Yes she’s quite a smart one, really interesting and has a knack for making me smile? I guess?”

“OH MY GOD CONGRATS TODOROKI-KUN,” Midoriya shouted into the phone and Kaminari probably wafted him away. Was Kaminari putting him on speaker without him knowing?

“Alright, bros gotta help each other. Remember when you helped me out with Jirou? Ya well I’m here for ya now. So describe the situation.”

Todoroki wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and reached to turn the air con on higher.

“So she’s an interior designer. I met her ‘cas she was my patient. I know these type of things are conflict of interest but I feel like it’d be fine ‘cause she didn’t seem like she was gonna come regularly anyway. Figure that part out later. What I’m trying to do is pay her to redesign my whole office and ---“

“WAIT WAIT WAIT. You want to stash out 10k…just so you can meet her again.”

“Uh huh. Exactly—“

“Todoroki are you INSANE?!” That sounded like a mixture of Midoriya and Kaminari now.

He was expecting this type of a response.

“No I’m not insane. I am perfectly fine. I could’ve gone the usual route to ask her for a dinner date or whatever but I feel like she isn’t looking for anyone right now. Or heck maybe she’s already seeing someone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.”

“Yes but wasting that much money is not necessary ...Todoroki my dude. Just do it the old fashion way.”

“I don’t want to do it the old fashioned way. I want to see how she truly is in her element. And designing my office seem to be it.”

Kaminari sighed. “Okay then why are you phoning me when you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Because I feel like I need you guys to validate this. I don’t know—“

“You’re a mess Todoroki. This girl must be real special.”

The man pondered for a moment; he didn’t think she was anyone worth getting to know before but from yesterday afternoon onward his opinion had flipped 180 degrees.

“Well,” Kaminari said with mumbling from Midoriya and Tokoyami in the background, “We’re with you all the way then but if you need anything just call us up. Tokoyami also has something to say to you.”

Then came Tokoyami’s unemotional voice. “May the Abyss show you the way, Todoroki.”

The man’s lips curved to a relieved smile.

“Thanks guys.”

Now he just needed to contact Yaoyorozu and get the project started.

#todomomo #bnha #todoroki x yaoyorozu #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfic #my fanfic #fanfic request

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