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#no references were made to old cases in the other books which feels hmm
chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
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The Soul Truth
Day 2, Story #1 is by @honouraryweasley12
Title: The Soul Truth
Author: honouraryweasley12
Pairing: Ron x Hermione
Prompt: Soulmates
Rating: K+
TW: none
The ornate doors slid open and Hermione stepped out of the lift, her shoes clacking on the stone floor as she walked forward, head held high but movements stiff. She quickly found that it was best to give off a strong, confident air as she met with various ministries in her new capacity. 
She hadn't been in this part of the Ministry often and it was quite unfamiliar to her. All the more reason to keep her guard up.
"Greetings, Minister Granger-Weasley. Congratulations on your victory."
A wizened old man in heavy, dark robes welcomed her, limping forward and holding out a shaky gnarled hand. She took it and met his eyes, which were still sharp—despite his advanced age. A playful twinkle shone out from them, reminding her immediately of Dumbledore.
"Thank you."
He gave her a smile. "Welcome to Archive floor of the Department of Mysteries."
She looked around the cavernous space, taking everything in. She could practically feel the hum of ancient magic reverberating around the walls.
"And you are?"
"I am the Archivist."
"Oh, I meant your name."
He chuckled. "We don't use our given names in this department, just our titles. There is great power in names, as you no doubt know, and we don't want that to interfere with the work we are doing here."
"What should I call you?"
He thought for a moment, before looking up at her. "For today, you can call me… Dave."
She immediately relaxed and shook her head, her face incredulous. "Why Dave?"
"Ah, you see, the power of names. By picking something so simple and informal, your posture and tone changed completely. Had I picked something more formal, you would have responded in kind."
She smiled, immediately taking a liking to the mysterious old man. "Lead the way, Dave. I was told I would be receiving the grand tour."
The two walked slowly through the vast archives, the various rooms and chambers full of different experiments, mystical objects, and parchments.
"Where is everyone?" Hermione stopped to ask, noticing that they hadn't seen a single person, Unspeakable or otherwise, as she was shown around.
"Some of our greatest breakthroughs happen in the early morning or late evening. We encourage our members to work when it best suits them." He squinted at a battered gold watch that seemed to weigh heavily on his wrist. "Yes, 3:00 PM is usually the quietest time of the day down here."
"I see. I do some of my best work at odd times as well."
He nodded sagely. "The quiet mind is often the clearest."
They continued touring through, until they came to a small door tucked behind several suits of armour. It was so old and dark that Hermione wouldn't have even noticed it, had Dave not mentioned it.
"Most Ministers of Magic I've worked with seem to be worried about other objects down here that might help them, but I have something interesting which I think you'll appreciate."
He fished out a small key from within the folds in his robes and turned it in the lock. The heavy door creaked open to reveal a closet-sized space with a single pedestal. On top of it sat a thin, aged book.
"It's my understanding that you are an avid reader, Minister."
"Yes, how did you know?"
"It's my job to know," he added gravely, watching her eyes narrow. He waved his hand dismissively, grinning again. "No, no, I'm only joking. I happened to share a lift with Auror Weasley one Monday morning, and while I didn't mean to eavesdrop, he was complaining quite loudly to Auror Potter that he missed you, because you had your nose stuck in a book all weekend. I mean no offense, of course."
She blushed and rolled her eyes affectionately. "That sounds like Ron alright."
"That's why I thought this might be of interest to you," he continued, gesturing to the pedestal.
She couldn't help but be intrigued as she stared down at the frail old book, her voice dipping down to a whisper of reverence. "What is it?"
"It's called The Book of Souls—though it's just a single parchment. Yet, it's the most dangerous object down here."
Hermione stared at it, her face a mask of awe. "How so?"
"Legend has it that the parchment was created by a powerful young witch, who was being courted by a prince. She wasn't sure if he was her soulmate, for she sensed a darkness in him, so she invoked some very ancient magic to help reveal the truth."
"It worked?"
"Indeed, it did. The parchment was charmed to reveal a small note, riddle, and sometimes even a name to the reader, one that would help them understand who their soulmate was. Unfortunately for that witch, her soulmate was most decidedly not the prince. She rejected his proposal, and as was the case back then, disappeared under mysterious circumstances soon after."
"That's terrible. Then what happened?"
"As the story goes, rumour spread about the witch's parchment, and as with most powerful objects, the lure of it drew out many seekers. Though the object was made with good intentions, it soon led to a trail of darkness and bloodshed. Broken families, obsessions, blackmail, jealousy, and even death. Knowing that kind of unshakeable truth proved to be a valuable commodity, or a lifetime of heartbreak for those unable to meet their soulmate."
Hermione nodded. It sounded very much like the Elder Wand, but more subtle and insidious. One thing was puzzling her though. "I've never heard of this before, and I've studied many books about souls, both ancient and dark."
"Once the Ministry recovered it, they deemed it was too dangerous for this information to be out there, so they've removed all known references to it. Those who had known of it died off, and it was forgotten from memory."
"When was this?"
"Centuries ago. However, as Minister, you are privileged to learn certain pieces of information that the general population is not privy to."
"Fascinating," Hermione replied. She watched as he slowly reached a hand toward the weathered book. "Wait! What are you doing?"
"Every so often I check to make sure it's still under the cover, and since we're already in here, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Does… does that mean you've looked at it?"
"Oh no, never. I always look away, as should you."
He lifted the corner for a second, and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but open her eyes to see a word of blazing red ink, before he shut the cover again. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, unable to comprehend the word she saw so very briefly.
"No, it couldn't be."
"What was that Minister? Did you say something?"
Hermione shook her head.
"Everything seems to be in order here. Shall we continue?"
Hermione nodded mutely, the word still burned in her thoughts.
~*~
She cancelled the rest of her meetings and went straight home after finishing with Dave, or whatever his real name was, needing time to collect her thoughts. How could she tell Ron, the love of her life, what she had seen?
She sat at their dining table, absentmindedly stirring a soothing cup of tea when he walked in.
"Hermione, I'm home."
He came bounding into the kitchen, a piece of parchment in each hand and a wide smile on his face. "Look, the kids wrote. Hugo promises he's already started studying for O.W.L.s, and Rosie is nervous, but excited, to captain her first match against Ravenclaw next week."
"That's great," she replied, her voice a dull monotone.
"They even said their classmates think it's cool that you were elected as the youngest Minister of Magic in history."
"Hmm."
Ron looked at her and frowned. "What's wrong? Tough day?"
Hermione pulled out the chair next to her and patted it. "Come sit down."
Ron scrutinized her again. "The last time you did that, it was to tell me you were pregnant with Hugo. Are you pregnant?"
She sighed. "No, please just come here, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it."
He sat down, unsure of what was coming. She quickly told him about the Archivist, the tour, and the Book of Souls, before swearing him to secrecy.
"You saw something when he lifted the cover, didn't you?"
She nodded sadly. "I saw a word."
"What did it say?"
"I-I don't want to tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not true. Whatever it says, it's not true."
"C'mon Hermione, please tell me."
"It said… Krum."
Ron let out a laugh. "Oh, is that all?"
"What do you mean? Viktor Krum is my soulmate, and that's all you have to say!?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"That you're upset, that you care that I was destined to be with Viktor."
"Destined? We have two beautiful kids, an amazing family, and great careers. I don't care what some ruddy old book says, the charms are probably wonky anyway." He pointed to his chest. "I know that I love you with all of my heart, and you feel the same."
She slid into his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "I do, you know I do… but…but…"
"What?"
She suddenly burst into tears, burying her head in his neck as she sobbed. "I-I always had this idea in my head that we were real soulmates, if such a thing existed. We met when we were so young, and I've only truly ever loved you. I know it's silly, but I hate that it's not true. I didn't even like Viktor that much."
Ron ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed her back comfortingly. "Maybe it was a mistake or something. You said yourself you only saw one word."
Her breathing started calming down. "I-I suppose that's true."
"We know what happens when a charm or prophecy is misinterpreted."
She sniffled. "It would be nice to know."
Ron gave her a squeeze. "Maybe we should sneak in there tomorrow and take a look."
"We can't just sneak in there! I'm the Minister of Magic! Besides, there was a key to get into the room. I don't know how we're going to get it from the Archivist."
"You're the Minister of Magic. I'm sure you could come up with some reason to be there."
She gave him a dirty look. "I'm not abusing my position like that."
"I don't mind abusing my position, as you put it. Maybe I can say I'm researching something for a case."
"No, Ron. What if you get in trouble?"
"Who am I going to get in trouble with? Harry? You?"
"That's not the point. We swore we'd never take advantage of our roles for our own gain."
He sighed. "Fine, you're right. Sneaking in it is, then. It'll be like the good old days! A secret mission, breaking into places we have no business being in. An ill-formed plan. It'll be fun."
She smacked him on the arm. "Those days were terrible."
"Aren't you curious though, to find out the truth?"
"Of course I want to know the truth! I don't want to go through the rest of my life thinking Viktor was my soulmate, when it's clearly you."
"As sweet as that is, we clearly only have one choice."
Hermione shook her head. "Fine."
"Good, things like this are much easier when you're agreeable to them," he smirked, nudging her playfully. "You said 3:00 PM was when it was empty, right? Meet me in my office tomorrow at 2:55 PM, and we'll head down there. I'll just tell Harry we're going to a broom closet or something."
"Ron!" Hermione screeched. "You'll do no such thing."
"It's perfectly plausible. It's not like we haven't done that before."
She blushed, unable to count the number of times they'd had fun at the Ministry. "Alright, fine. 2:55PM at your office."
"Good. Now, I'm starving. I'll whip up one of your favourites. I bet I'm a better cook than ol' Vicky. What do Bulgarians even eat?"
"Not funny, Ron."
~*~
The next afternoon, Hermione was found pacing in front of Ron and Harry's office, much to the fear of the recruits who were stationed outside the door. It wasn't often the Minister of Magic would show up unannounced, muttering under their breath.
The door swung open and Ron sauntered out, his lips upturned in a smug smile. Harry's face had gone a shade of green from what he'd just heard from his best mate.
"Hi, er, Hermione," Harry greeted her awkwardly. "You two… um… have fun."
Mortified, Hermione could only return a quick wave before grabbing Ron's arm, hauling him toward the lifts before she was forced into any further interactions with Harry.
"I honestly can't believe you told him we were going to go shag."
"I literally told you I was going to say that."
"I didn't think you actually meant it." She let out an exasperated snort and pinched the bridge of her nose as they entered the lift. "What's the plan?"
"Plan?"
"You are the Head Strategist of the Auror department. Surely you must have thought of something!"
Ron shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "We'll make it up as we go. Seems to work best for us."
"I don't like this one bit."
The ding of the bell signalled they had arrived.
Ron clasped her hand, their fingers entwining. "Let's do this."
The doors opened and they were greeted with utter silence. It was as if the entire floor was abandoned, which it likely was.
They crept forward, trying to make as little noise as possible before finally reaching the same spot she had been the previous day.
Hermione turned the handle of the door, and to her surprise, it was unlocked.
"Hey, look at that!" Ron exclaimed loudly.
"Ron," she hissed. "Keep on the lookout."
He nodded and stood in front of the armour blocking the door, ensuring that Hermione couldn't be seen, in case they were interrupted.
Hermione took a deep breath, her heart pounding. Whatever it said under the cover wouldn't change anything between herself and Ron, but she needed to know for sure.
Her fingers paused for a second, lightly gripping the frail corner, her body tense. She delicately opened the book, the bright red ink bursting into view, almost glowing in the small, dark chamber.
Her greedy eyes flew over the words that were revealed.
"I knew it," she whispered.
Ron suddenly poked his head in. "Everything alright?"
"Perfect. Everything's perfect and wonderful!" Her giddiness couldn't be contained as she closed the ancient text.
"I guess this means you aren't going to chuck me?"
"Never."
"What's it say?"
Her pink cheeks were starting to hurt from her wide grin. "Your soulmate will first love, then hate, a Mr. Viktor Krum."
"That confirms it. See, nothing to worry about."
"Oh Ron, I'm so relieved. I knew it couldn't be true. This whole thing is ridiculous, but I'm still glad to know it's always been you."
Ron nodded. "Me too."
"We should leave before we get caught."
"Not so fast, it's my turn now."
"What?" Hermione asked sharply. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Might as well take a look while I'm here."
Hermione stepped back, biting at her bottom lip—a sure sign of anxiety. "But… but… what if—"
Ron cupped her cheeks in his large hands and gently kissed her. "It doesn't matter what it says, I love you and only you. Trust me."
She nodded, before resuming his place as the lookout.
After a moment, she heard him chuckle and close the door behind him.
Hermione whispered urgently. "What did it say?"
"It said my soulmate will be a nightmare."
Hermione let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Thank goodness. I don't think I would've been able to handle it if it wasn't me."
"It's always been you. I thought you'd have learned by now."
"I know, I never should have doubted it."
"Can you imagine if we'd learned this information when we were younger? We might have been able to get together much sooner," Ron remarked.
"Or we'd have made an even bigger mess of things."
"True. It doesn't matter in the end though, does it? We figured it out and we've done pretty damn well for ourselves."
"We have, Ron. I love you."
"Love you, too. We'd better get out of here before someone sees us."
The two quickly retreated to the lift, having successfully completed their mission. A minute after the doors had shut on the snogging couple, an old man slowly made his way toward the chamber and pulled a small key out of his robes, locking the heavy door.
As it's appointed guardian, he had vowed to never look in the book, and he had kept that oath. That didn't mean he couldn't use it's power in other ways. Past Ministers, those inquisitive few who had the intelligence to understand the book's worth, often revealed something in that moment when he checked the parchment, for good or ill. Usually it mattered little to him, but not in this case.
He paused for a moment, before extracting a small glass sphere from the same pocket as the key. A sphere he'd kept with him for many years, since he was a young man working with prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. Knowing Minister Granger-Weasley was coming to take a tour was the perfect opportunity to solve a mystery he'd been researching for the better part of seven decades.
He held it up to the light, the familiar swirls of mist dancing in the globe. He had long since memorized the prophecy, which had been made by a seer almost a hundred years earlier. His colleagues at the time had dismissed it, because like many visions, it was almost impossible to determine what the seer was referring to.
He had kept this one, for it always gave him hope. He never thought he'd actually solve it. Yet here he was, still alive and able to record this last surviving prophecy in the annals of history.
He turned it over in his hands, the glass still unblemished.
"Magic," he whispered, "such a wonderful tool."
He stared at it again, reciting for the last time the fates encompassed within.
"Two soulmates, brown and orange, will form a triangle with black to defeat evil. Through many trials the two will forge a love so strong it will be unbreakable, and their strength will reshape the world."
He let out a final chuckle, his long-held desire now confirmed by the soulmates themselves. He lifted the glass to his lips, his breath fogging up the shiny surface.
"Prophecy fulfilled."
The sphere melted away into nothing, the outcome recorded somewhere else in the archives. He shuffled away back to his office, his eyes sparkling, and his heart lifted with hope.
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guqin-and-flute · 3 years
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[You know how there’s a set of fics I promised to work on first? Apparently that was a lie! 😘 This is just epilogue, Post-Reconciliation fluff with teenage Jingyi--he’s probably 15-16 CW: Moderate descriptions of dead bodies and injuries in reference to a game they’re playing]
[3zun Raise Jingyi AU] [Main Fic][Ao3 Link]
“Are you you cold?”
“Oh yeah, very.”
“Are you animated?”
“No.”
“Do I know you?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.”  Yellow-Father flipped the page of the book he was examining, eyes still on his work. “Are there obvious wounds?”
“Yup, my organs are all chewed up, throat torn out, and...let’s say my nose is gone.” Jingyi thumped his chin into his hands, sticking his legs straight out under the low table in the middle of Yellow-Father’s office, idly waggling his feet. 
Next to him at the table, Gray-Father looked like he was falling asleep, his cheek all smushed against his propped up fist, eyes mostly closed, but he still grunted, “Shape of the teeth marks?”
Jingyi squinted into space and wrinkled his nose, considering. “Oblong?”
Yellow-Father twitched a half smirk without looking up from what he was signing. “Oblong teeth?”
“No, oblong...jaw shape or whatever,” Jingyi waved his hand dismissively, wiping away his previous words before drawing a long, thin U-shape in the air with his index finger. 
Gray-Father cracked one eye open to take in the sketch, then closed it again. “Not a fierce corpse, then.”
With an air of exaggerated mystery, Jingyi shrugged, then sprawled backward on the floor so he took up the rest of the walkway in front of the door. “Whoooo’s to say? Is that your guess?”
“Boy, I said it wasn’t a fierce corpse, why would that be my guess?”
“Well, you’re trying to fish for unauthorized information, Chifeng-zun, you gotta play by the rules,” Jingyi shot back sternly, jabbing a serious and admonishing finger in his direction.
Though his eyes were closed, it was very clear that Gray-Father rolled them.
Yellow-Father heaved a sigh and drummed his fingers idly on his desk, gaze roving over the piles of paper as he sucked on his teeth in thought--though, Jingyi had to admit, probably not just about their game. Yellow-Father seemed to operate on several levels at once at all times. “Are there deep puncture marks?” 
“Uhhh...sort of?”
Finally, Yellow-Father looked up to shoot him an amused glance over his desk edge.  “’Sort of?’ That’s hardly fair or specific.” Rising, he gathered a stack of scrolls and came around his desk, stepping easily over Jingyi’s supine form before rapping smartly on the door with his knuckles. 
“Like...teeth marks are technically puncture marks.”
After a moment, the door slid open and a harried looking Jin courier took the pile without a word and disappeared down the hall. Yellow-Father closed the door and turned back. “Yes, I suppose. I’m asking specifically about fangs.”
Lolling his head over, Jingyi watched as he stepped back over him without even looking, robe hem brushing over his belly. He barely fought the sudden urge to grab his ankles as he might have when he was younger. He managed not to--but it was definitely a close thing. “It’s not a snake.”
“What?” Gray-Father demanded, sounding offended.
Jingyi lolled his head back to see his eyes open, glaring at him in mock reproach. “You’ll tell him it’s not a snake but you can’t confirm it’s not a fierce corpse without threatening to take away my guess? How is that playing by the rules?”
“Aha,” Jingyi raised his finger straight into the air again as he proclaimed, “But it is.” Then, he pointed back down at himself. “Because I make the rules.” 
Gray-Father gave a derisive huff through his nose, but smiled. “Yeah, that was cute when you were 5. Not so much anymore.”
“Um, whatever, I’m adorable. Dieeee, are you done yet? I’m bored. When is Blue-die done with his meeting? I wanna gooo.” 
“Patience, Jingyi, I need to clean up. And he’s coming.” Yellow-Father rustled about on his desk, neatly packing everything away into drawers and piles that Jingyi thought were a little excessive--like, why did it need to be that clean? “Where did we find you, again?”
With an exaggerated scoff, Jingyi shook his head slowly, feeling the hard floor beginning to dig into the knob at the back of his skull. He’d have to sit up soon. “Wooow, you find a dead body and you don’t even care enough to remember your surroundings. This must be just any other day to you.”
“In the woods, he said,” Gray-Father betrayed him easily, so Jingyi raised his head to shoot him a glare, but his eyes were closed again. Wriggling closer, he punched the side of his rock of a thigh, earning him a chuckle and Gray-Father leaning down to flip the ends of his fanned out hair over his face.
“Woods, thin, oblong jaws, deep tooth marks, throat torn out, organs and nose gone--or at least chewed on,” Yellow-Father ticked off precisely down an imaginary list as he turned from shelving to continue puttering around. “I’m guessing; wolves.”
Heaving himself upright, Jingyi crashed his hands together just as the gold, white, and blue painted door slid open once again and he bellowed. “GUAAAUAUAUANG!” 
Framed in the doorway, Blue-Father stopped short and blinked at the sudden noise but smiled in amusement. “’Guaaaung?’” When Jingyi thrust out his hands demandingly, he stepped in and obligingly gave him custody of one of his arms. “Hello.”
“Almost done, Er-ge,” floated Yellow-Father’s voice from the closet.
“Clearly, it’s a gong noise.” Jingyi used his arm to haul himself to his feet--Blue-Father didn’t even sway. “They won; I was murdered by wolves.”
At this pronouncement, his blue father cocked his head down at him, smile turning quizzical as Jingyi dusted off the seat of his robes. “...Ah?”
Gray-Father blew out a breath and shook himself awake, unfolding slowly from the table.  “We were playing Dead Body while we waited for you and A-Yao to be done,” he explained, then gave a hugely expansive stretch, scrunching his face up. “I was thinking it was wolves, but I was waiting for the usual twist.”
Yellow-Father emerged from the closet with a smug smile and murmured, “Mmm, of course you were,” to which Gray-Father leaned over the desk and swatted at his butt--he easily dodged. 
“The twist was that there was no twist, this time,” Jingyi said sagely, hands on his hips. “Are we good to go? Finally?”
“I...yes.” Blue-Father still had on that ‘I still don’t know what’s going on here’ smile as Yellow-Father closed the shutters against the streaming sun and joined them. “How does one play Dead Body, exactly?” he asked curiously as he leaned down to let Yellow-Father kiss his cheek hello just before they made their way out into the hall.
Pretending to hold back barf was something Jingyi did less because he cared about them kissing and more because it was his job as annoying teenage son to do things like that. In any case, he was rewarded by Gray-Father wrapping him in a casual headlock, then ignoring him when he flailed to escape as Yellow-Father locked up his office. “You mean you’ve never played Dead Body with him?”
“Mm, not that I recall--and I feel like I would remember something like that.”
From his chaotic and squished vantage point, he saw Yellow-Father look down at him--all captured and partially strangled and sputtering under Gray-Father’s arm. He rolled his eyes, and fondly scolded, “Let him breathe, Da-ge.”
Easily, Gray-Father complied. Wonderful, blessed air flooded back into Jingyi’s lungs--which he immediately used for retaliation by leaping onto Gray-Father’s back like a monster spider and wrapping him in a headlock of his own. Yellow-Father winced and hissed, “Mind Baxia, Fufu, for gods’ sake--”
“Dead Body isn’t a Lan game,” Jingyi panted dismissively, tightening his grip and bracing himself when Gray-Father planted his feet to take stock of the situation. 
His other 2 fathers continued to walk on, out of range of Such Antics. It was a good thing, too, because in a whirl of walls and ceiling, Gray-Father managed to very neatly flip him over his shoulder onto the ground. With a smack, all the breath stuck in his lungs for a few agonizing moments while his horrible, rotten Gray-Father grinned down at him and laughed, “You little ass. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Vengeance,” Jingyi wheezed back several seconds later when he could breathe again again. The ring in his ears hadn’t completely left, yet. 
“--and then you have to diagnose what killed him. It was very popular back when he was around 7 years old,” Yellow-Father was explaining to Blue-Father ahead of them, ignoring the intense drama of betrayal and revenge happening just up the hall. “Though, what on earth makes it not a ‘Lan game’ is beyond me.”
Staggering to his feet with the grudgingly accepted hand of his gray father, Jingyi caught up to them 2 of them. “Right, like shu-gong would want me lying around shouting about my limbs being torn off. He doesn’t even like me yelling about normal things; I would get so many lines.” He flopped down onto his yellow Father’s shoulders and leaned as they walked, even though he was just a little taller, now (and oooh, didn’t Yellow-Father hate it).
 Automatically, his father reached up and pet his head, even as he said, “You’re crushing me, Fufu.”
Transferring over to Blue-Father, he hung from his shoulders when he patiently slowed to allow him to do so. “You find a body,” Jingyi intoned, dramatically. “It’s Lianfang-zun.” He spread his other hand wide as if painting the scene. “He’s folded up like a letter in the halls of Koi Tower! Cause of death?”
“A ridiculous son,” Gray-Father chuckled from behind them, and Jingyi twisted to kick up a foot and stuck out his tongue.
“Wrong.”
“Usually, there was a lot more posing, as a child,” Yellow-Father informed Blue-Father in a heavy tone over Jingyi’s head. “And props. It was a whole ordeal. I’m forever grateful it’s now entirely theoretical.”
“Ahh, I see,” Blue-Father shook his head and put a steadying arm around his shoulder as Jingyi hopped along on one foot, waggling his other one behind him as bait for Gray-Father to take amused, cursory swipes at. “Is there a reason I never got to play Dead Body?”
With exaggerated patience, Jingyi put both feet on the ground and reached up to pat his blue father’s cheek, smiling sympathetically. “Die, whenever I wanted to play war, you always asked if there was a peaceful solution--and I just wanted to stab people.”
All 3 fathers burst out laughing as they rounded the corner of the hallway, the sun shining warmly over their sides from the garden windows. “Oh, so you decided that I just didn’t have the stomach for it, is that it?” Blue-Father asked with a grin.
Jingyi heaved himself off, spinning around to walk backward in front of all of them. “I mean, sort of? I think maybe I figured it would make you too sad to imagine me dead?”
At this, Gray-Father’s eyebrows shot up with a sharp, incredulous laugh and Yellow-Father reared his head back in offended bafflement, demanding, “Oh, and for some reason we wouldn’t be sad to imagine you dead?!”
Shrugging aggressively, Jingyi held up his hands in defense. “I dunno! He seemed like he would handle it worse! I was 7, what do you want from me? It doesn’t have to make sense, I was an idiot!”
“Oh, you were not an idiot,” Blue-Father protested, tilting his head and crinkling him a smile. “You were wonderful.”
“You were 7,” Yellow-Father agreed with Jingyi’s first statement, darkly. Apparently, he was still highly offended, because he muttered, “’Handle it worse’...” under his breath before saying, “You’re about to run into a vase, Jingyi, turn around.”
Instead of obeying, Jingyi just veered away from the obstacle and continued to shrug at him when he sighed and looked to his blue father for help. Before it could come, Gray-Father nudged Blue-Father with his shoulder, teasing, “Congratulations on being the only one to actually care about our son, apparently.”
“Holy hell, fine, if it’s going to be A Thing, we’ll all play and mourn my death together. Happy?” As he rolled his eyes, Jingyi nearly ran into the wall as the last corridor before the outside door ended, but Yellow-Father caught his sleeve and steered him right with feigned annoyance in his pursed lips.
Blue-Father laughed, the light sparking off his spikey guan when he shook his head fondly. “Alright, I’ll play if you turn around. What do we find?”
Obediently, Jingyi spun back around and waited to fall into step with them, pondering the details of his gruesome demise. Beside him, Yellow-Father rolled his eyes to the ceiling with one dimple showing and Gray-Father shook his head with a grin. Then, Jingyi snapped his fingers and spread his hands theatrically just as they all rounded the corner of the hallway. “Alright, so, I’m face down in a river and I’m covered in boils--” 
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hyenahunt · 3 years
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Beast Survival - 8 [END]
Writer: Nishioka Maiko
Season: Summer
Proofreading: royalquintet (JP & ENG)
Hiyori: After all, Jun-kun, you had the ambition to haul yourself up from that bottom rung, the spirit to stand up against those above you, and the determination to cling onto that opportunity.
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[Location: Starmony Hall Courtyard]
Leo: Munch, munch, chew—
Aira: Nom, nom — this is the best ♪ It's delicious~! I never knew food could taste sooo good~ ♪
Tatsumi: I wouldn't have thought you'd be able to fish up a sea bream of all things, Jun-san. Impressive work.
Jun: Oh no, it was all luck, honestly. Right back at you, Kazehaya-senpai — thanks so much for handling all the food prep right away.
By stacking up some rocks together, you managed to make us all a simple stove ♪ [1]
Tatsumi: I read about it in a book once, some time ago. Who would have thought it'd come in handy as an idol?
And all that aside, you really went above and beyond in trying out a real-life survival game for the sake of getting into your role.
Jun: Nahhh, at first I just got swept up in the whole thing, really.
But if I'm gonna take up this stageplay role as a professional, I can't give 'em some half-assed work, so I decided to take this chance to really get into character.
Tatsumi: Hmm. Jun-san, you're truly diligent.
Jun: Mmm. Rather than diligence... you could say it's something like pride, maybe.
This is gonna be my first time performing in a stageplay, but that makes no difference to the audience.
Whether it's a big name or a newbie up there performing the lead role, guests still pay the same amount to come and see 'em...
So I believe it's only right that an actor shouldn't betray their level of experience to the audience.
Well, even if I say all that, my lack of experience is gonna jump out in some way.
It'll take time to build up experience, no matter what. There's no way I could rack it all up in a day, right?
But when it comes to learning my role, there's at least something I can do. That's what I figured, anyway.
If it really was something I couldn't do anything about, I would've resigned myself to it, but I don't wanna say something's impossible without even trying it first.
That's the pride I have as a pro in the making, after all.
Tatsumi: Heheh. That sort of attitude is most befitting of an actual professional, and to continue holding onto it is truly a challenge.
So, how did it go? Have you gotten a better grasp on your role?
Jun: Mm, well... Thanks to this experience, I've gained a newfound appreciation for things I normally have around me and my own abilities.
I feel like I now understand what it's like to be in a situation where I've no choice but to do everything with my own two hands, but I don't think I can really say I've completely gotten a grip on my role yet...
Since I'm no prince, much less one who's gotten exiled from his kingdom, I can't quite wrap my head around the sheer weight of responsibilities someone like that's gotta deal with.
Though my old man's a former idol, I grew up in a pretty average household, after all.
Tatsumi: ...Hmm. Jun-san, aren't you overthinking this a little?
Jun: Am I?
Tatsumi: Yes. You took such an impossible mission upon yourself, faced it squarely, and even accomplished it without ever throwing in the towel.
That kind of tenacious spirit and resolve would stay with you no matter what shape or form you take, don't you think?
Jun: ...!
Leo: Hey now~! You two over there! Quit floating off into your own little world and get over here~!
I've just had a flood of inspiration burst forth! Let's sing a survival song with everyone!
Aira: That's riiight! The veggie foil packs are gonna get all burnt, y'knooow!
Tatsumi: Ahh, so they are. I'll be right with you.
Jun: (I get it now... I'd thought I didn't know anything about the animal kingdom, but I was only judging things by my own standards.)
(Though I didn't realise it at first, all the things I felt today could be the very same things animals living out there in the wild experience, huh.)
Leo: Heeey! Namiii~! Hurry up and get over here, toooo~!
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Aira: What he saaaid! Sazanami-senpaiii~!
Jun: (Maybe the Hyena Prince would feel all these things, too.)
(What a rag-tag, fun, and reliable group. If this band of merry men is the one I'm gonna be taking back my kingdom with, then well, I guess things aren't so bad after all ♪ )
I heard ya clear as day~ I'm comin' over now—!
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[Location: ES Breakroom]
Jun: Heya, thanks for all your hard work today. Huh? Are you the only one here, Ohii-san?
Hiyori: It seems Adam's running late at their current gig. Work is work so there's no way around it, but keeping me waiting is unacceptable!
Jun: Now, now. I'm sure they're gonna come by soon. Want some tea while you wait?
It looks like they've brought in that black tea you've been wanting to try, Ohii-san. Shall I brew some for you?
Hiyori: Yes, yes. But of course, you shouldn't even need to ask. It's a given that you brew tea for me, yes? It should be as natural as breathing for you!
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Jun: There's seriously something wrong with your personality... Ohii-san.
Hiyori: What's this? Jun-kun, you seem like you've made some kind of breakthrough. That's a fine weather! A little while ago you were going around looking like you were dead inside. Did you manage to master your role?
Jun: Mmm~ Well, you could say I'm finally standing on the starting line.
Right, speaking of which. Ohii-san, you told me the other day that I was a good fit for this hyena role, didn't you?
And that I'd just have to remember why. What was that all about?
Hiyori: Hm? — Ahh, yes.
Jun-kun, you were a non-special student, weren't you? As a result, you had no more merit than a pebble on the roadside.
After all, that's the kind of system that school had, but...
Like a messiah, I extended my hand of salvation to you and lifted you up from that place. That's why you should be all the more grateful towards me, of course.
Jun: You really don't have to be so annoying about it, but I mean, it's true. I'm always telling you how grateful I am, aren't I?
But what does that have to do with what you said, Ohii-san?
Hiyori: Well, it's not like I chose you on a complete whim, of course.
After all, Jun-kun, you had the ambition to haul yourself up from that bottom rung, the spirit to stand up against those above you, and the determination to cling onto that opportunity.
That's the very Jun-kun I chose... and with a role like an exiled hyena prince, returning to reclaim his kingdom with the help of his friends — there's no way it wouldn't suit you, right?
Jun: ......!
Hiyori: As I've told you once before, you're a noble beast who can't tell lies. [2]
And you see, that's why I extended a hand to you. Isn't my foresight incredible!
Jun: Can you stop flattering yourself with everything you say? It really doesn't feel like I'm the one being praised at all.
Hiyori: I'm just saying it as it is, of course!
Now, if you just think back to those days in Reimei Academy, to when you'd first met me, then that alone would be enough for you to play the Hyena Prince better than anyone else.
Jun: ...So that's what you mean. If that's the case, then I feel like I could keep playing him all the way until the end. Those days are carved right into my soul, after all.
Hiyori: Exactly! That's why out of everyone out there, you're the one who has to play him! Jun-kun, no one else would understand the Hyena Prince better than you!
Jun: Well then, I should know just how to reply, shouldn't I?
"I'll swallow up all the fruits of your charity, and all the days I've lived through up 'til now — and then I'll show you how I've grown strong enough to hunt my own prey!" [2]
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Translation Notes:
[1]: Specifically a kamado, a traditional Japanese wood/charcoal-fueled cook stove.
[2]: These lines are a direct reference to quotes in Saga - Release 4 (which will hopefully be back up soon!)
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hot take for the aoas fandom but i don’t ship curaday. not bc i just don’t like the ship but bc i don’t like how faraday was curie’s previous mentor. idk... it just seems manipulative and predatory to me that they ended up together with the power dynamic so unbalanced.
hmm i definitely see where you're coming with that. and don't worry its fine that you don't ship them!!! that's perfectly acceptable!!!
i have to say a few things first on the predatory aspect, if that's alright. also disclaimer this is quite rambly, i'm sorry i'm just very tired.
additional notes:
important points/things i want to stress in bold
quotes are italicized
thunderhead + the toll quote used!!! not really spoilers, but careful if you haven't read books 2 and 3!!!
if you're not a coward here's my askbox
now in my opinion, there are a few things that might make it seem as though curaday is a very predatory relationship. one, the mentor/apprentice problem. two, the age gap. three, the essence of their romantic relationship. because you didn't state why you felt it was predatory, i'll adress those issues.
1) the nature of their relationship during the mentor years
the "original" curaday as such wasn't really a romantic relationship. there was no hint of the relationship between the two while faraday was mentoring curie. at the time when their relationship was only mentor/apprentice and indeed adult/minor, there were no requited feelings from faraday.
"....then tore [the journal entry] out the next day, when i broke down and confessed my love with eyeball-rolling melodrama. [...] [scythe faraday], on the other hand, was a gentleman [...] and let me down as easily as he could." ― scythe curie, (page 347, scythe)
just to be thorough, here are several definitions of "let down." all links in sources.
convey bad or disappointing news in a considerate way, so as to spare the person's self-respect. ― idioms free dictionary
to try to give someone bad news in a way that does not upset them too much. ― macmillan dictionary
an unrelated expression is let someone down easy. this phrase refers to breaking up with someone in a relationship in such a way that they are not devastated of overly sad. ― writing explained
so it's clearly implied that faraday said no to her. after curie confesses her feelings, she describes what happen after that.
"i lived in [scythe faraday's] house, and remained his apprentice, for two more awkward months." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)
note that there is no mention of there ever being a romantic relationship between the two scythes during the remainder of the mentorship. this shows that no adult/minor predatory behaviour had occurred between the two scythes.
just to add on, some thoughts from my friend ref. ( @jam-is-my-food )
"if their romance took place when or anytime around when curie was his apprentice, yes. absolutely that would be a tilted power dynamic and uncomfortable and Not Good."
this, as well as the quotes, removes the "predatory" aspect of your concern. but that's just my opinion!!! you can still believe that is an unhealthy and wrong relationship. but personally i don't think the mentor/apprentice concern is a factor, since the romantic aspect took place much later.
2) the age gap during the years of their romantic relationship
there is a 5 year age gap between the two scythes. according to the wiki, at the start of scythe, curie is 219 years old, and faraday is 224. during scythe curie's explanation of her crush on faraday, she pinpoints their exact ages.
"i was seventeen and full of righteous indignation at a world that was still heaving in the throes of transformation." ― scythe curie (page 345, scythe)
"i was seventeen, remember. childish in so many ways. i thought myself in love." ― scythe curie (page 346, scythe)
"but at twenty-two, [scythe faraday] was just as inexperienced in such matters as i was." ― scythe curie, (page 346, scythe)
the five year age gap during the mentorship would have made it an adult/minor relationship, but as they grew older that simply isn't the case.
"then, nearly fifty years later, when we both had turned our first corner and were seeing the world through youthful eyes once more―but this time with the wisdom of age on our side―we became lovers." ― scythe curie (page 347, scythe)
they became romantically involved until fifty years had passed. which would put curie at around 67, and faraday at around 72. curie even outright says that they had "the wisdom of age on [their] side." this shows that curie believed that both parties were mature in their starting of a romantic connection.
here is some more input from ref. ( @/jam-is-my-food )
"and, adding on to [the earlier statement], if faraday was the one who had liked marie when she was his apprentice. even if a lot of years had passed, that would i think still make it inherently predatory and yikes.
but the thing is, that's not what happened. all that happened when she apprenticed for him was that marie had a crush on michael.
and he turned her down. because she was a kid. and that's the end of it."
this, i would say, addresses the general complaint of the age gap between the two. most often people believe that because faraday apprenticed curie that he was a lot older but that's not true. the gap is only 5 years. now that absolutely does not make their relationship "not predatory", but it does show that both parties were mature in their decisions.
3) after their romantic relationship + friendship
now this part is less technical than the others. this is mostly my opinions. but just to start off, i want to look at their relationship after the 7 deaths and 70 years.
your feeling of their relationship is that it is "manipulative and predatory". now i've never been in an unhealthy relationship before, but i don't believe this is one (please correct me if i'm wrong! i am not speaking from experience here and could easily make a mistake!).
out of everything, their treatment of one another after the romantic relationship stands out to me the most. personally if their romantic had been unhealthy in that sense, i don't believe they would have stayed friends as they did.
i had written an essay a while about curie and faraday together. if you could read it that would be great! however i'm linking my friend nisha's ( @genyyasafin ) reblog of it, as she adds in a small bit at the end about how faraday humanizes curie. [ here ] is the link.
as i was saying, i don't think this is a predatory and manipulative relationship simply from the way they act afterwards. they are described as old friends constantly, and that friendship seems natural, to me at least. now you could be saying that this is a manipulative relationship and neither of them notice, but i don't think that's true.
“seven deaths, and seventy years later, many things had changed. we remained old friends after that, but nothing more.” ― scythe curie (page 348, scythe)
"i have observed the rise and fall of the romantic relationship between [scythe curie and scythe faraday], as well as the many years of devoted friendship that has followed." ― the thunderhead (page 383, thunderhead)
these two show that even the thunderhead, which is an incredibly knowledgeable force, does not seem to be troubled by their relationship.
not to mention this quote:
"other scythes―the ones i'm friendly with―will call me marie." ― scythe curie (page 235, scythe)
and through that quote it is shown that both curie and faraday are comfortable around each other. this isn't every instance in the books, but the ones i found quickly.
"marie―scythe curie that is―...." ― scythe faraday (page 371, scythe)
"and you, marie." ― scythe faraday (page 383, thunderhead)
"where are you my dear marie?" ― (page 102, the toll)
i didn't add in any quotes where its the reverse and she calls him michael, because he never mentioned his policy for first-name-basis, but this shows how comfortable curie is around faraday. not to mention it is implied that curie and faraday talk often, as curie knows about an event that only faraday, citra, and rowan know about.
"didn't you already attend a family wedding?"
citra wondered how scythe curie knew that, but wasn't about to let herself be derailed. ― scythe curie - dialogue, citra terranova - narraration (page 231, scythe)
the comfort in which they speak to and reference one another suggests to me, at least, that there is not a manipulative intent or feeling in the relationship.
4) conclusion i suppose
if you read all the way here, then i applaud you for your dedication and i thank you very much. that seriously means so much to me.
to anon: this essay was a whole 1,429 words. i am so sorry. however i do disagree with your opinion but i hope i've voiced mine in a somewhat coherent manner. thank you so much for reading all this way!!!
5) sources:
scythe curie wiki
scythe faraday wiki
arc of a scythe - book one: scythe
arc of a scythe - book two: thunderhead
arc of a scythe - book three: the toll
let down - idioms by the free dictionary
let down - macmillan dictionary
let down - writing explained
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monstersandmaw · 4 years
Text
Male drider x reader (sfw) - Part One
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
It’s Wednesday, so that means it’s ‘new’ story time. This one has been up on Patreon for a week already, and Part Two has gone live today already.
Content: Female reader takes up a job as an archivist in a creepy old house and is surprised to find that 'the master' refuses to be seen at all... Very much ‘Beauty and the Beast’ inspired, if you will. Cameos from Sarrigan Silkfoot and Damien the orc chocolatier (Tumblr links). Wordcount: 2464
EDIT: my favourite comment from patrons on part two has been ‘cranky spooder’
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WANTED: Librarian to take on an extensive, re-cataloguing project in a large, private collection. Diverse collection includes books, clay and stone tablets, scrolls, parchments, and various other media.  Applicant must be willing to live on-site in a relatively remote location, and archival qualifications preferred, though demonstrable experience may suffice. Board and lodging will be provided throughout the duration of the project. It is anticipated that it should take between four to six months. More details to be supplied to the candidate following a successful interview.
---
You stared at the strange advert in the paper and let your teeth sink slowly into your lip, a frown playing across your forehead. This was… honestly right up your street in terms of experience and qualifications. In that moment, sitting at the table in your favourite coffee shop in Starfall Springs while a summer rain shower hammered down outside, you wanted to wave that advertisement in the face of everyone who’d said a postgraduate qualification in archive and records management would render you essentially bankrupt and completely unemployable. If this was anything to go by, they were only half wrong. You were practically bankrupt. Well, up to your eyeballs in student loans at least.
“Fuck it,” you hissed under your breath, ripping out the advert and getting out your phone. There was no email contact, but there was a number, and you saved it to your contacts in case you lost the little shred of newspaper, and decided to call as soon as you got home.
The phone wasn’t exactly your preferred method of communication, but it was all you had, so after psyching yourself up, you punched in the numbers and paced about, waiting for someone to answer.
Abruptly, the dial tone cut off, and a crackling on the other end of the line announced that someone had picked up. “Hello…? I’m… I’m calling about the archivist’s role advertised in the Starfall Chronicle… I was hoping for a bit more information.”
“Oh,” came a reedy, thin voice. “Your qualifications?”
You told them and then waited for them to speak.
“Hmm. And your experience?”
You swallowed. “I… I helped the Starfall Museum in transferring their computer system from the manual catalogues…” you said, suddenly feeling like this was the interview already.
“Mmm. So your experience is not extensive then.”
It wasn’t a question, and you ground your teeth.
“Just how am I supposed to get this vast acreage of mythical experience if no one hires anyone without it? I can get you three stunning references from the museum curators and staff, as well as from my professors at university,” you said hotly. And instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry,” you added hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Yes you did,” they chuckled, voice husky and fragile. “And you’re perfectly right. I think you might do well at this in fact.”
“I… what?”
Another soft snort. “What information would you like to know then?”
“Where is it, for a start?”
There was an uncomfortable pause, and you’d just been on the point of asking if they were still there when they spoke again. “There’s an old estate to the north of Starfall Springs.”
You frowned. You’d heard rumours as a child growing up here that there was some mad old nightmare creature who lived in the woods on the slopes of Starfall Mountain and came down into the town on the new moon snatched naughty children from their beds, but you'd long dismissed it as nonsense to make kids behave. Still, it sent a tingle of apprehension down your spine.
“I’ve heard something of it,” you said carefully. “Not much.”
“Widowsweb Court,” the person said with reticence. “The estate dates back centuries, and the collection is in need of some care and attention. If you would be willing to live on the estate in your own, self-contained apartment, with meals provided in the kitchens of the main house should you wish it, then I think you sound like the right person for the role.”
“When would you want me to start?”
In the end, it took you less than a month to get everything organised.
On the evening of your departure, you and your friends celebrated on Temple Meadow, the huge swathe of public park surrounding the town’s religious building, and as you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky and surrounded by friends, you saw a shooting star sear through the canopy of glimmering stars above.
Sarrigan Silkfoot and his partner lay curled up nearby, and Damien, the huge orc from the chocolaterie in town, had tucked his own partner’s head against the crook of his colossal shoulder. A thought occurred to you as you watched Sarrigan toss his head back and laugh at a joke whispered in his ear, and you sat up.
“Sarrigan?”
“Mm?” he hummed, laughter still dancing in his eight red eyes.
“I know you don’t talk much about your family, but do you know of any other estates around here?” You hadn’t mentioned exactly where the job was, just that it wasn’t in Starfall Springs itself.
“Why d’you ask?”
“The place I’m going to for this job is called Widowsweb Court, but the library said it’s been abandoned for years, and I couldn’t find much about it on the internet either.”
He went still at the mention of its name. “Widowsweb you say?”
You nodded and realised you had the attention of everyone in your small group.
Sarrigan straightened and tucked a strand of his long, black hair behind a tapering ear. “It used to be part of the Silkfoot family holdings… way, way back,” he began, gesturing with his hand. “But about four hundred years or so ago, there was a disagreement between the then patriarch of the family and the dowager, his mother. He essentially annexed the property and disowned the entire estate. He could have sold it, but apparently he felt just guilty enough not to turf her out onto the street…”
“Why? I mean, what did she do?”
Sarrigan shrugged. “No idea. Knowing my family, it probably had something to do with anti-human sentiments…” he winked at you and added, “We really didn’t like your kind invading these parts…”
“We’re not exactly a majority round here,” his partner said, thwacking him in the belly with the back of a hand.
“True,” he said before turning back to you. “But you’re saying someone actually lives there?”
Damien leaned across and grinned, “Could be a long-lost relative, Sarrigan!”
“Well, whoever my employer is, they have a huge collection to reorganise, so I’m in.”
“You don’t even know the name of the person who’s paying you?” Damien gawped.
You shook your head. “A Mr. Ambleside is taking care of that. He’s apparently employed to keep the estate running and such… He’s the one who interviewed me.”
“Ambleside is an old family name from these parts,” Sarrigan said thoughtfully. “Well, you make sure you keep in touch, hmm?”
“Will do,” you nodded.
The only problem was, you discovered after Damien had dropped you off and fussed endlessly over you outside the tumble-down gates of the estate, that there was no phone reception way out here. Not even a single, sputtering bar.
As the tail lights of Damien’s truck disappeared, you pushed the iron gates open, the hinges screeching in protest loud enough that you thought your arrival would be announced all the way back down into Starfall, a two hour drive away.
Heaving your huge suitcase into your hand, you began to struggle down the driveway. Overgrown, potholed, and muddy, the road was barely even a road after the recent rain.
Ancient, thick-boled trees hung over the drive, branches meeting in the middle like lovers fingers interlaced, and after half a mile of walking, you stopped, exhausted, and sat on your suitcase. You’d made it out of the small, gnarled copse that bordered the edge of the estate, but the parklands that lay beyond seemed to stretch for miles. The thought of hauling your sizable suitcase all that way made you feel faint, especially in the stifling sun. There was at least a cooling breeze that lifted your hair and caressed your skin, but honestly, it was hopeless.
Eventually, after perhaps a quarter of an hour of sitting there, getting warmer and thirstier, and growing no less exhausted, you caught sight of a movement on the driveway. Squinting, you made out a horse and cart, and sitting atop the driver’s bench, a figure with a wide-brimmed hat on their head.
The closer they got, the more you were able to make out, and when they were perhaps fifty yards away, you stood up. They looked to be an elderly firbolg, with warm-brown skin and flaming red hair and beard.
The horse was an elderly, bony looking thing, and the cart just as rickety, but the firbolg drew to a halt beside you and barked your name in a familiar voice.
“Mr. Ambleside?”
“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “You’re early.”
“A little, yes.”
“Well, climb in. Do you need a hand with your bag?”
You looked at it, and then at the height of the cart bed. “If you wouldn't mind?”
He nodded and climbed carefully down. You weren’t sure how old firbolgs got, but he didn’t exactly look young. Having said that, he hauled your bag into the back like it weighed nothing at all and then helped you up to sit beside him on the bench before turning the cart around and heading back up the driveway.
The house itself was nestled in a clump of massive elm trees, masked from view until almost the last moment. “I’ll show you to the cottage, and then you can come up to the house for some refreshments. You’ll start work tomorrow at nine.”
You nodded, not wanting to rock the proverbial boat. “Is it just you and… er… your - our - employer here then?” you ventured after a few minutes of silence with only the rumbling of the cart for background noise.
He shrugged. “My boy works here in the grounds too, and there’s Chiara who tends to the household. Other than that, yes. And the master, of course.”
“Will I be meeting him?” you asked.
Mr. Ambleside looked positively scandalised. “Oh heavens no!” he gasped.
“Right. I see. He’s… unwell?”
That drew a deep scowl from the firbolg’s thick, heavy brows. “No,” he said, but it sounded like he was buying time. “No, he’s not unwell. He just… prefers a solitary life. You are to enter through the back door to the kitchens, proceed up the route to the library that I will show you, and return the same way when you’re done, is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” you said, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.
“If you need to use a telephone at any time, you may use the landline in my office.”
That news came as a huge relief, and you clung to it as you were shown the slightly dusty stable-house apartment just across the courtyard from the main house. Widowsweb Court was a massive country pile, with filigree stonework and steeply pitched, slate-tiled roofs, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror movie.
Your first week passed without incident. You assessed the vast, rambling collection, and saw immediately that it would definitely take much, much longer than the six months for which you’d been contracted to get to grips with it and get it into a decent order. Even if you had a team of ten strong people to help you, there was no way you could reorganise all the shelves in the cavernous library. It was as large and as varied as any national archives, and contained books and scrolls on everything from ancient magic to the development of medicine in various countries across the world.
Travel journals were rammed in next to tomes on mathematics, poetry beside animal husbandry, and gemology beside botany. There was no scheme to it, and after two weeks, you nearly had a complete breakdown.
Covered in dust and suddenly vastly overwhelmed by the looming, dark bookshelves, you simply sat down on the floorboards and let your head fall forwards into your hands. This was a gargantuan effort for one person to tackle alone.
Something rattled in the stacks and you gasped, sitting up straight, heart hammering. “Hello?”
Silence followed, but after only another few seconds, you heard a skittering of limbs and the slam of a door. Except, there was only one doorway to the library, and it was behind you.
Standing somewhat shakily, you swiped your tears away and paced steadily along the floorboards towards the source of the noise. When you found nothing but dusty stacks and silent  books, you swallowed and turned away.
At supper that night, you ate with Mr. Ambleside and his son, Naril, who was perhaps a year or two younger than you, and looked very much like his father. Noticing your pensive expression, he leaned over and asked in his softly-articulated purr if everything was alright. “You look… I don’t know… Did something happen?”
You sighed, nudging food listlessly around your plate. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project today…” you said. “And… I heard a noise in the library that startled me, that’s all.”
The two of them exchanged looks and then Mr. Ambleside said, “That was probably the master…”
“But I thought…” you began, though you hardly knew what you thought about the mysterious person who supposedly ran the estate, pulling all the strings from a hidden room in the old house and never revealing himself to anyone.
“Why do you think he wanted the collection organised?” Mr. Ambleside chuckled into his potatoes. “He’s an avid reader, but doesn’t have the patience to do it himself. Plus, he doesn’t see too well any more.”
“Oh,” you breathed. “All those books, and… that seems so cruel… Is he very old?”
Naril shook his head. “No, he’s maybe ten years or so older than us? Chiara reads to him in the evenings if his eyes get tired, and —”
“—Naril, that’s enough,” Mr. Ambleside barked, and Naril’s fluffy ears tucked right back against his head. “We do not gossip about the master.”
“Sorry, father,” he said, shooting you a look that conveyed a fair bit. ‘If you want to know more, ask me when he’s not around’ it said.
For another week, your recataloguing was left undisturbed by noises, but after four weeks of being at Widowsweb Court, you encountered ‘the master’ for the first time, and he was nothing like you’d thought he would be, though perhaps the name of the place should have given it away.
Part Two --->
To be continued next Wednesday... Part Two is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years
Text
Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎
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I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️
“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.
Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps
Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne
I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.
The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora
She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me
“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old
Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha
Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.
So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.
But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.
That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰
So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.
Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.
Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.
“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺
Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.
Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭
“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”
Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.
“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.
Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.
I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬
Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other
And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️
“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰
But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.
Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅
But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?
Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.
Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok
“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them
🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry
Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh
“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.
Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry
I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭
Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃
It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭
“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭
“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.
"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭
Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?
I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻
I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”
“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.
“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok
“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️
Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣
“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.
But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗
But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail
I say that every chapter 🤧😅
“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still
Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.
See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.
“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺
"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧
“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃
It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️
So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role
“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰
Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉
I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗
“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅
“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭
“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers
“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready
“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃
“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️
“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss
And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧
Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
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wonderland-in-bloom · 4 years
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riddle, ace, deuce, and malleus watching a meteor shower w/ the reader
anon asked: hi! may i request hcs for a reader who's a super nerd for everything related to space and stars (as in. they'd talk about it for literal Hours if u'd let them) dragging out their friend (who maaybe has a crush on them lol) ace, deuce, riddle and malleus to stargaze after hearing there's gonna be a meteor shower that night, perhaps from astronomy class? how would they react, would they enjoy such an activity + how would they deal with such an excitable and odd person such as the reader? tysm!! 💖
im bacccccccc from deeeeeeeed,, hey guys how are y’all doing? i think this will be the last request i’ll do before i focus my attention on the summer beach bash writing collab event held by the amazing, the lovely @nonsensical-twistedriddles​ anyways i hope you all are doing alright and enjoy these headcanons ❤️
for a better visual/image of what the meteor shower is like, refer to kimi no na wa or episode 6 of violet evergarden “somewhere, under a starry sky”
headcanons under the cut :))
riddle rosehearts
being the dorm leader of heartslabyul means that he’s always busy and he has tons of things to do, so when you first approached him he was a little hesitant 
“i....i don’t know (y/n)...” “pleaseeeeeeee”
you gave him your signature ‘cute puppy dog eyes’ and that was when he knew he couldn’t resist, so he agreed
that night he was surprised to find himself in a hill at the back of the school. you had laid out a blanket and brought a couple of pillows and a telescope just in case. a couple books about the whole meteor shower, and books about stars and space in general were sprawled across the grass as well
“ah riddle! you’re on time!” “of course. those who are late have to be taught a lesson” 
you patted the empty space next to you and he sat down beside you
“i’ve actually read about tonight’s meteor shower in one of my books. it happens once every 300 years! i’m just getting super duper excited just thinking about it! the fact that i get to see a comet that happens once in 300 years! aaaah! it’s amazing!”
personally, riddle didn’t know too much about comets or meteors or just astronomy. he just knew what he needed to learn for the subject. but seeing you being so happy and hyped about the meteor shower made him want to learn more
as you continued to ramble, riddle let out a small chuckle, causing you to focus your attention on him
“sorry, sorry. it’s just...you’re so cute rambling about these things. please tell me more.”
riddle saw a light in your eyes as they seemed to sparkle and you continued
he didn’t really understand half of the things you were saying but he enjoyed it
“and...and then it said that-” your sentence got cut off as the meteor shower started. an array of colors filled the sky as the sight before your eyes was the most beautiful thing you’ve seen
you stood up and just gazed at the whole thing in amazement, riddle followed but half of the time, he was looking at you. he was amazed at how passionate you were in this and how he wants to see you smile like this all the time
“(y/n). thank you for inviting me.” “it’s no problem, really!” “they say that when two people who are truly in love are together gazing at a meteor shower...their love for each other will be known to both and it will continue to grow.”
riddle blushed and so did you. were you saying...?
“well it’s just an old legend, though. we should head back.”
the next day in class, riddle approached you out of nowhere and handed you something. it was a crystal necklace in the shape of a star
“i really hope there’s another meteor shower soon. and i want you to come along with me.” he smiled before quickly running to his own class. 
and as the legend went, after spending time with riddle during that meteor shower, your love for each other grew and grew 
ace trappola
“haaah? a meteor shower? what’s so interesting about that?” “oh come on ace! you owe me one anyways! remember that one time-” “okay! okay! i’ll go.”
truth be told, ace really doesn’t mind doing anything and going anywhere as long as you were there. but his big ego doesn’t allow him to agree that easily. 
 you were both snuck into the astronomy classroom and went out the window to the balcony. a perfect view of the meteor shower
“what’s so cool about this meteor shower, anyways?” “a lot of things actually!” you continued to ramble on about it
ace could care less about space, stars, meteors, all that jazz, but since you were the one talking about it, he really doesn’t mind. there was one sentence which grabbed his attention though
“tonight’s meteor shower is called ‘the falling stars’” “what? so like...stars come falling from space? or is it just one big ass star?” “no! it’s called ‘the falling stars’ because they say if you make a wish while gazing at the meteors, it’ll come true.”
“what the-that’s all-” “ace! it’s starting!”
he glanced up at the sky, and truth be told, he never saw a scene as beautiful as that. it was really as if the stars from the sky were falling down. 
“it lasts only for three minutes! hurry up and make your wish!” he turned his head to face you and saw your eyes closed and face scrunched up. some wish. “alright then~”
once the meteor shower ended you giddily asked ace what his wish was
“hmm...maybe i’ll tell you someday.” “what?! why not tell me now?!” “my wish is something you should figure out on your own.”  “what?! hey! that’s not fair! ace! wait for me!”
the next day, ace was delighted to find you skipping through the hallways with a bright smile on your face
“good morning guys!” you smiled to your two best friends. “what’s with the smile, (y/n)?” deuce asked you. “nothing! just feeling happy.” “so my wish did come true.” ace whispered to himself. 
“what did you say?” “nothing. now let’s get to class.” “ow! ace that hurt!” “it was just a playful slap, you big baby.” 
now what was ace’s wish, you may ask?
i wish for (y/n) to always be happy, and to let me see her beautiful smile on her face each day
deuce spade
“what!? it’s tonight?!” “jeez you never keep your eyes open in astronomy class, do you? but yes! it’s tonight. so we should go together, okay?” 
you and deuce were known to be the chaotic, nerd-like duo over these things. you were much more invested than deuce however, but he just likes to listen to you talk about it. 
he helped you up the roof of the ramshackle dorm where you both could get a good view of the sky
truth be told, you were trembling a bit. heights weren’t your thing and now here you were sitting on top of a roof which could’ve collapsed any second. 
you clung onto deuce’s arm, causing him to blush slightly but he assured you that you both were going to be fine
the sky changed from a dull dark blue to a bright, glowing purple and light blue, and you both knew that the meteor shower started
“it’s...beautiful.” the both of you whispered in amazement. you and deuce just stayed up talking about astronomy and how the both of you got interested in it as the meteor shower continued.
“you know something about this meteor shower?” deuce shook his head. “...no? what?”
“it says that you’re granted good luck if you’re under the sky of this meteor shower.” “that means everyone in night raven college gets good luck huh?”
“i don’t know. it’s not specific! they didn’t even say how long the luck lasts or...yeah. it’s just not specific. it’s just an old saying anyways.” you and deuce laughed. 
you both felt something slip under your feet. “uh oh.” it was a roof tile. 
this caused you both to slide from your position and started tumbling down the roof. 
“deuce! do something! summon something soft so we don’t fall!” “u-uhhh, okay!” 
it was his and your safety in his hands so he prayed that he was able to come up with something appropriate 
“i summon...a big fluffy pillow!” you and deuce managed to fall off the roof without any harm and landed on the pillow, slightly bouncing even
you both laughed in relief as the both of you were okay. “hey, you managed to summon something good!” “well..maybe it’s the good luck from the meteor shower.”
“and you know, i’m feeling pretty lucky. so...i can do this.” he leaned in and pecked your cheek. your cheeks instantly burned up as you buried your face in your arms. 
“deuce you idiot! you should consider being lucky that i don’t slap the heck out of you!” he just laughed at your cute behavior and attacked you with a big hug
you two ended up accidentally falling asleep on that big, fluffy pillow and you both woke up to find yourselves in each other’s arms 
malleus draconia
“(y/n).” he called out to you. “yes?” “i heard there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight.” 
“ah! yeah...about that. i was thinking...if you would want to come see it with me?” you fiddled with your fingers. “me? i’m...invited?” “yes! i wouldn’t want to invite anyone else in the whole world.”
malleus felt delighted and was just looking forward to that night. he didn’t really matter what else happened during the day. 
“but i don’t really know where we can watch it from. the other students are planning on watching it too...” “we can see it from the diasomnia observatory.” “WAIT, YOU HAVE THAT?!” you shrieked a little too loudly
“i mean....if you don’t mind.” “of course. it’s alright.”
you were shocked to find yourself in a neat and organized observatory. bookshelves surrounded the whole room and a big telescope was in the middle of it. “this is amazing...”
“you could always come here if you want.” “WHAT?! WAIT, REALLY?” you beamed as you followed malleus. “i know your love for space, (y/n).”
you mentally slapped yourself, was it always that obvious? am i just too loud about it? ugh damn it. 
“you shouldn’t worry about it. it’s fascinating to learn all about it.” you were always there for malleus when he was in depth into talking about gargoyles and you treated him with the utmost respect. you also joined in the conversation and actually asked him a few things. he wanted to do the same for you. 
“i was the one who invited you, yet here you are doing everything.” “i don’t mind...” if i can spend time with you, i’d do anything. 
“malleus, look!” you pointed at a golden glow coming from the sky. it was starting. 
you two stood in silence for a while, enjoying the view of the night sky and each other’s presence
“you know...i’ve seen this meteor once. when i was a child.” “really?” you scooted closer to him. “sadly, back then, i didn’t have anyone to enjoy it with. i didn’t have anyone who is as passionate talking about it as much as you. and now, i’m glad you’re by my side, (y/n).” 
“and i’ll continue to be by your side! i promise, we’re going to see as many meteor shower as possible! we’ll go stargazing, go chase clouds, everything! and--ah sorry. am i rambling too much?” 
malleus took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss atop it. “hearing  you talk about these things makes me happy, (y/n). and i’m glad you’re by my side. i promise we’ll do all these things together. i’d do anything with you, as long as we’re together.” “thank you.” you smiled back (trying your best not to lose your composure)
and you both spent the whole night in the balcony, hand in hand, with your head resting on him as you watched the stars in the night sky and as the sky turned from a dark blue to a bright blue
just like the way you both wanted it to be 
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and now i wanna go stargazing uuuugggghhhhh or watch kimi no na wa/violet evergarden again efjwoejfowe. FAIRY GALA EVENT TOMORROW!!!! the best of luck to everyone who’s scouting !!!
love, a♕
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mirthful-sonnet · 3 years
Text
Rise Above the Ashes
AO3
                       Chapter 1
There was a ray of sunlight filtering through the tall trees. Jean shielded his face against the brightness, not really knowing how he got there. Before him, there was a road flanked by rocks and thickets leading into the greenery of the forest. He kept on walking in what seemed like an eternal journey into nowhere. His voyage continued until he suddenly heard the burbling noises of water. The more he walked the clearer he heard it.
He finally emerged from the forest into the shore of a large river. The picture before him was breathtaking, and he wished he had brought his drawing book to try to replicate what he was seeing. He stepped closer and took in the pristine surface of the river, the gentle ripples from the water, the bright song of the nearby birds, and the tiny colorful fishes he could make out from above the surface.
In the distance, he noticed a movement. At first, he thought it must have been a tree trunk, or an animal. But the closer it got, the more confused he got trying to make out what it was. He froze suddenly.
The body was lying upwards, its arms stretched wide as if waiting for an embrace. The cadet uniform was barely discernible. Jean didn’t have to look any closer to know who it was.
Marco
There was another movement in his periphery, and despite his frozen state and the overwhelming need to run away, he fixed his eyes onto the next corpse. Brown hair and a bloody smile, even in death.
Sasha
Soon, thousands of bodies were floating down the river, the rippling water slowly being tainted in blood that reached Jean’s bare feet. He could not move from his fixed place at the shore, staying rooted to the spot. He wanted to scream, but no noise would come out. It felt as if he was being bound and strangled by an invisible force.
The last thing he noticed was another body floating near him, the black hair and red scarf standing out amongst the thousands of floating corpses. This time the scream finally tore out of his throat.
Jean shot up in his bed, his breath coming out in short gasps. He finally made out where he was, noticing a plain wall and feeling the rocking motions of the boat. His sweaty shirt clung to him like a second skin as he tried to catch his breath.
“Jean?”
Reiner’s groggy voice came from the other bed. He could not really make out where his friend was as he had his knuckles pressed to his eyes so hard that he could see spots.      
“It’s nothing,” he murmured. “Just another nightmare.”
“You were screaming a name,” Reiner said, turning to him in his own bed, “Mikasa’s name to be exact.”
Jean glared at him, though it was barely visible in the scant light of their room.
“Go back to sleep already,” he snapped. “We have an important day ahead of us.” He was referring to their upcoming arrival in Paradis, the home he had not seen in almost three years. Jean only heard a small murmur from Reiner before laying back on his bed, not bothering to pull back the covers.
“Reiner?” He said after a pause.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t tell anyone about this.” he said. “Please.”
He heard a snort and a shuffle on Reiner’s side, “Don’t worry, Jeanboy, I won’t.” Reiner replied before falling asleep.
In truth, Jean did not know why he was thinking of Mikasa now. He was often plagued by nightmares ever since he saw his best friend’s mangled dead body all those years ago, but Mikasa had never appeared in them. He had not really thought much about her in these past years, only having sporadic thoughts on how she was doing and where she was.
Armin had found a way to correspond with her during their time as refugees in Marley and told him that he should write to her at least once. But Jean did not listen ; Armin’s reassurance that she was alive and okay was more than enough for him.
He had to admit a simple fact: that he was anxious about the possibility of meeting Mikasa again. He figured that his nervousness had somehow seeped into his nightmares. The possibility of meeting her again brought up old memories of heartache as well as happiness during their time as soldiers. Right now, he only hoped that she was okay.
He turned in his bed with a groan and tried to fall asleep again, only to stay awake until the calls for all passengers to get up and have breakfast were heard.
-o- 
Ever since they arrived in Paradis, time seemed to pass in a blur of meetings, paperwork, arguments, proposals, and unbearable tension. The presence of the military in their sessions at the main headquarters did not make their objective any easier. Their hostility was palpable, especially towards Armin, the self-proclaimed killer of Eren Jaeger. In their eyes, Armin was their ultimate enemy.
Still, the blonde kept his head up, striking up conversations and carrying himself with an ease that was almost enviable. Jean had to act as his second in command, which meant he had to help stir their conversations in the right direction and be Armin’s main support.  
They had been in Mitras for almost two weeks when Historia suddenly turned up at their lodgings in the city. The young queen told them that she wanted them to accompany her to her farm so they could meet her family. It had come as a surprise, considering that ever since her former comrades had arrived in Paradis, she had been exceedingly formal with them.
Jean figured that she had to thread very carefully, considering that the government was currently being run by a faction that was already hostile to them. He found himself admiring her resilience. Something about her made her appear more mature now than her young years would reflect. They were in no position to decline her invitation, especially when the queen suddenly mentioned that Mikasa would be there waiting for them as well.
The nervousness he had been feeling during their trip came back. This was stupid. She had been a dear friend to him, so he did not understand why he was feeling this self-conscious. He barely registered Historia leaving and Reiner speaking to him.
“I’m curious about this husband of hers,” Reiner said, an undertone of envy in his voice.
“I told you to stop going after married women. It’s embarrassing.” Jean retorted.
“Hey, I’m not going after anyone,” Reiner said, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just curious, that’s all!”
“You’ll get us in serious trouble one day,” Pieck commented from her place in the sofa of the living room before standing up, “I’m going to sleep. You should all probably do the same,” she said while making her way to the apartment’s stairs. Annie and Armin agreed and followed her. Connie was still out, as his family had arrived in the city to reunite with him. Meanwhile, Jean’s mind was still reeling.
“Hey, are you okay?” Pieck murmured to Jean as she passed him by, concern on her sleepy features.
“I’m alright,” he reassured her. “I’ll follow up soon, don’t worry.”
He had formed an unlikely friendship with the former warrior, her weirdness sometimes reminding him of Sasha. His time at the Marleyan shelter during the aftermath of the rumbling was made a lot easier because of her presence. After reassuring her and telling his friends he would wait for Connie to come back, he found himself alone.
Jean sat down and blankly stared up at the ceiling, thinking of everything that had transpired since they arrived. He had been finally able to see his mother some days ago. She was in such an emotional state that she could barely make out words at the sight of her son. She kept sobbing and holding him as if he would escape and not appear for another three years again. Once upon a time, he would have been embarrassed by her reaction, but he wasn’t that proud boy anymore. He could only hold her just as strongly as she did in his large frame, finally feeling some semblance of home and belonging.  
Jean’s thoughts moved back to Mikasa, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread at the idea of seeing her again. He had been sure that he got over his unrequited love for a long time, but the prospect of seeing her made him confused. She had been appearing in both his dreams and his nightmares since they came here, and he was even fixing himself up in case they would see her.
He had brushed off Pieck’s curiosity about his sudden concern about his looks with a dumb joke, but in truth he had been hoping to see her again. It was frustrating to still have these conflicting feelings about Mikasa when she had never seen him as anything more than a comrade and friend.
Her heart belonged to Eren in life, as well as in death, and that was a fact he had to accept. The sudden thought of Eren brought a new kind of pain, which he shut away immediately. He finally resolved to stay out of her way once they met her. It was for the best.
-o- 
Historia’s little daughter brought an unexpected brightness into their tedious routine. The girl was currently gurgling in Jean’s arms, grabbing at his facial hair which made everyone laugh. The young queen had allowed each of them to hold her daughter, and the toddler had been especially fascinated with Jean and his goatee. He could not wrap his head around the fact that Historia was a mother, and from what little he saw he knew this little creature in his arms was Historia’s entire world. The toddler now attempted to grab his hair, and Historia’s husband immediately moved to grab her.
“Alright little one, that’s enough for now.” the farmer said, grabbing his babbling daughter and moving away while cooing at her.
The man had been more than courteous to each of them, guiding them around the farm and showing them the new changes around it and the orphanage, which he currently administered while his wife was away attending other matters. They made a lovely family despite the unorthodox way they came to be together.  Jean wondered if he would ever be able to fit such a picture in his own life one day.
“Ymir is still a little too curious about everything she sees.” The man said, while balancing the little girl on his hip. When the girl’s name was first revealed, Jean was inevitably taken back to the old days when their old comrade was still alive. He couldn’t help but look at Reiner and noticed a hint of shock and melancholy in his face, especially when it was his turn to hold the little girl in his arms.
“Don’t hold out hope that she will ever change, she’s a rascal.” Historia said while moving to grab the girl who was now reaching out to her. A voice suddenly caught their attention.
“Armin…”
They had all been so caught up in touring the place and being introduced to Historia’s family that hearing Mikasa’s voice surprised them all. Jean turned around and saw her standing in the hallway, her eyes wide as she stared at Armin. She looked quite different from the last time he saw her.
Mikasa and Armin stared at each other for a while in disbelief, before moving and crashing together in a tight embrace. Armin raised her up and held her closer against him, and Jean did not have to look any closer to know that they were both crying. Everyone looked away respectfully as their sobs echoed throughout the room. Wanting to give them privacy, Historia quietly guided them all outside of the room and left the two estranged friends alone. Jean looked back at them one last time with a sad smile before heading out of the room and following the rest of the group.        
-o- 
“You’re being ridiculous,” Jean said to Reiner. Much to his amusement, it turned out that Reiner now had a secret infatuation with Historia’s husband. During their touring he had acted quite flustered around the farmer, but Jean did not pay much attention to it, thinking that it had something to do with Reiner’s jealousy.  
“Why are the good ones always married?” Reiner said exasperatedly, “I’m cursed to being forever alone.”
Jean just rolled his eyes. They were staying in a shared room at Historia’s residency. While he was irritated, he was also secretly glad to see Reiner behaving normally again. They all had their physical and emotional wounds from the war, but Reiner was hit harder than anyone. He could recall having conversations with Reiner in their shelter, until the blonde’s eyes would glaze over and stare blankly at nothing.
On some days, his mood would change drastically, from exceedingly cheerful to withdrawn and depressed. And in other occasions he would forget who he even was.  Jean knew that Reiner had a disorder, but he did not know how to help his former comrade and felt utterly helpless whenever Reiner had these episodes. He had enough bad memories to last a lifetime, but watching Reiner slowly break down before him was particularly painful. Reiner was eventually taken out of the shelter and checked into a mental facility for a time.
He found some comfort in thinking about Reiner now in comparison to before. Despite the pain that he still felt about Marco, he found space in his heart for forgiveness, and he wanted to see Reiner be the easy going and protective person he had always been. This journey for peace was their chance.  
His thoughts were interrupted by Armin entering their shared room. He had been spending most of the days at the farm with Mikasa. The Ackerman had greeted them the day of their arrival once she and Armin had been ready to come out. There was plenty of laughter and tears in their reunion. Jean had given her an embrace and told her they had all missed her, to which she had only smiled and told him she was glad to see him. She looked more beautiful than he remembered.
In the following days, they had been engaging in various activities and there were new meetings to be held in Historia’s residency. Mikasa had accompanied them in some activities around the orphanage, but Jean avoided her or found a way to be involved in something else.
“Where were you?” Jean asked Armin as he sat down in his corner, looking tired.
“I spent the day with Mikasa, we were at the orphanage and then she showed me around the nearby town.” Armin replied.
Jean only nodded, he understood that they wanted to make the most of their time together, especially since they had not seen each other in three years.
“Where were you though?” Reiner asked him with a raised eyebrow, “We were all at the orphanage and you were nowhere to be seen.”
“I was taking care of all the paperwork. Soon enough we’ll be leaving, and we need to make our proposals clear.” Jean replied.
Armin nodded, making a small pause, “Mikasa was wondering where you were too. You’re free to do as you like, but you don’t have to be a stranger. She’s your friend too, you know.”
Jean gulped and kept silent, feeling a little bad. He was probably exaggerating and some quality time with Mikasa wouldn’t hurt. He still felt uneasy around her for some reason, but if the chance came, he would try to talk to her more. Still, he wasn’t planning on letting anything distract him too much.
-o- 
Jean looked at the trail before him, knowing that this was the right way. Armin had revealed to him that Eren’s grave was not too far away from their location, and he told him where it was. He had tried to avoid any intrusive thoughts about Eren but being here at the farm had brought on a barrage of memories. The pain was still fresh, and it felt as if his friend had left them just yesterday.
He tightened his coat around his body since the day was quite windy. As he walked, he took in the rolling hills and rustling fields of wheat. If one looked hard enough to the distance, the slight shape of the now ruined walls could be seen.
Jean kept on walking, holding down his hat when the wind got stronger. The shape of the tree could be seen now, its branches swaying slightly in the wind. Jean finally reached the bottom of the small hill where the tree was, taking in the sight of Eren’s final resting place. He took a deep breath, processing everything that he was seeing.
He climbed up the hill slowly, facing the small headstone at the root of the tree. He felt a sudden rush of indescribable feelings tearing at him as he knelt in front of the grave. There were so many things he wanted to say even if no one could hear him. He truly missed the bastard. But the sudden noise of footsteps interrupted him from his revelry, making him turn around.  
In a way, he was simultaneously surprised and not at all surprised at seeing Mikasa standing there, staring at him curiously.
“M-Mikasa,” he stuttered, mortified at the realization that there were tears on his face. He frustratingly wiped them away, avoiding eye contact.
“I’m sorry I startled you-” she started but Jean did not let her finish her apology.
“No, please don’t apologize Mikasa,” he rushed to say, still not looking at her. An uncomfortable silence followed. He had no idea what to do.
“So...” They both spoke in unison after a while. It made them laugh, the air around them easing considerably.
“I can leave if you want.” she offered, to which he shook his head.
“No, you can stay, I wasn’t planning on staying for long anyway.”
Mikasa moved, setting a hand on Jean’s shoulder as if to keep him from getting up. She sat down beside him.
“You are more than welcome here,” she said. “I think he would be happy.”
“I hope so,” Jean murmured and there was another silence, this time more comfortable.
“You know,” Mikasa broke the silence, “If you weren’t so busy, I would say you’ve been avoiding me.”
Jean looked down, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry Mikasa, I don’t know where my head’s been at lately.”
Mikasa only hummed in response, wrapping her arms around her knees. “You don’t have to apologize; I’m not entitled to your time. I was simply curious.”
“It has nothing to do with you personally, I just…” Jean trailed off, not knowing how to explain it to her. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He finally said, putting it in the simplest way possible.
Mikasa frowned. “Why would you make me uncomfortable? You’ve been a dear friend to me through the years. If anything, your presence would make me very happy.”
Jean flushed at that, avoiding her stare. “That’s-that’s good,” he muttered lamely. He felt like such an idiot.
A strong gust of wind caught their attention, making the small flowers growing of the branches fall in a flutter around them. They stared in wonder at the scene, falling into another comfortable silence.
His thoughts had somehow turned back to Eren, and he felt like he had to say something. He was sure she would understand.
“I miss Eren,” he said.
She stared at him in sympathy, “I miss him too.”
His throat was closing up, and he felt a surge of boldness. “There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many memories that I feel like I didn’t appreciate enough. Even though he drove me insane, I did love him. And now he’s gone.” Jean’s voice broke, but at this point he didn’t care. He knew Mikasa would never ridicule him for it.
It was true, despite their constant fights Eren had been dear to him too, and he had not taken his death well. His bottled-up feelings were spilling forth, and he was happy that if anyone got to see it, it was Mikasa. Though he still felt slightly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, this is stupid.” he said, wiping away fresh tears, and putting his hand on top of the headstone.
“There’s nothing stupid or wrong about this.” Mikasa replied, and he felt her hand suddenly resting on top of his. “You know I’m here for you, right?”
Her words only made him want to cry harder. He nodded, and they sat there for long minutes as the sun began to set. Their hands remained joined together on top of the headstone, and they knew that even though they were both hurting, they were also not alone. They had each other.
-0-
Just me coping with the ending and the leaks. There is more to come. Huge thanks to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this! You’re the best around <3 <3 
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contraststudies · 3 years
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Thank you for tagging me, @tawnyontumblr​! I’m very bad at doing these writer meme things, so here goes nothing.
1) How many works do you have on AO3?
45 and counting!
2) What’s your total AO3 word count?
376,429. Holy moly that is a fuck ton of words (I only properly started posting on AO3 last May iirc).
3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Four: Critical Role, Good Omens, Hades, and Kill La Kill.
4) What are your top five fics by kudos?
This list is bookended by two PWPs, which I find hilarious given that I seem to have misplaced my smut brain cell sometime in the last couple of months.
On The Matter of Traffic Violations (Good Omens, E)
“Officer Fell,” Crowley says, and leans forward, enough to give Fell a good view of his décolletage. He tilts his head in the way he knows people find deliciously coquettish, glad that he’d had the foresight to apply some mascara before heading out. “I’m so very sorry about this,” he says, looking up at the officer through his lashes. “It’s late, you know, no cars around… Didn’t notice how fast I was going, that’s all.”
[Or: Crowley flirts his way out of a traffic violation.]
Unbinding (Critical Role, T)
This is a great honor, Essek reminds himself, trying not to recoil as fingers run through his hair, working through the tangles. A braid is made of three strands, symbolizing the inextricable bond between the soul, the den, and the Luxon. A recognition of an achievement by the drow who bears it. With each braid, the soul is bound ever closer to its den and to the Luxon.
It is a lesson Essek learned long ago, but one he is never permitted to forget.
[Or: the story of why the Shadowhand wears his hair cropped short.]
No Church In The Wild (Good Omens, E)
The stem of the wineglass in Aziraphale’s hand snaps cleanly in two, but no one seems to hear it—every eye in the room is trained on the redheaded dancer sashaying to the gleaming silver pole, centre stage for all to see.
Oh, Aziraphale thinks faintly. Good lord.
[Or: the one where Aziraphale gets assigned to the red light district.]
abide gold with me (Critical Role, T)
“Okay, Cay-leb,” Jester says, stretching out the syllables affectionately. “You sit right here so we can watch you and Essek try an orange for the first time.”
The Primal Scene (Good Omens, E - a collab with @lookitsstevie​!)
Harriet notices that there’s a crack of light at the end of the hallway coming from the door to the library, and her mood brightens considerably. Perhaps the tutors are still here, putting together their lessons for the next day before they leave for the night. She leans down to pick up a piece of cloth that’s fallen on the rug. Her breath catches in her throat when she realizes what it is – a necktie with a familiar tartan pattern.
She nearly drops the tie in shock at the unmistakable sound coming from the closed door of the library. A sharp, quickly stifled moan.
[Or: Harriet Dowling accidentally bears witness to divine ecstasy.]
5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I try. I really do. My friends (and maybe some of my readers) know that this is difficult for me, mainly because any sort of recognition reduces me to a gibbering pile of tears. I’m working on it though, even if it does take me a million years to respond to anything on AO3. 
6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
God, which one do I choose. I have been referred to as an angst gremlin for a very good reason. I’m gonna go with The Remains of the Day, a Good Omens fairy tale AU I wrote loosely based on Bluebeard.  
7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?
I HAVE. I wrote philtatos, a crossover of Good Omens and The Iliad/The Song of Achilles. It’s the only crossover I’ve ever written, unless we’re counting Variations of an Arrangement, which could loosely count as a crossover of the book/radio/TV versions of Good Omens.
8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I have not. And hopefully never will.
9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I do, and it’s usually of the angst with a happy ending variety.
10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Hm. How do we define stealing? Just kidding. The short answer is no.
11) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope!
12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Got one in the works for Critical Role!
13) What’s your all time favourite ship?
Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes was actually the first ship I ever really got into, and they’ll always have a special place in my heart even if I never wrote anything for that fandom. Crowley/Aziraphale from Good Omens of course, and more recently Caleb Widogast/Essek Thelyss from Critical Role.
14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Variations of an Arrangement. I loved writing it, and I still want to finish it one day, but it took a lot of brainpower to write and keep track of the plot and I feel like it’s beyond me, at least right now.
15) What are your writing strengths?
I… hmm. Judging by the way people are always yelling at me in their comments, I guess it’s that I can write stories that make people feel things very deeply.
16) What are your writing weaknesses?
I repeat words so often, it’s embarrassing. I use too many “-ly” adverbs. Also, I find myself using the same turns of phrase across several fics lmao.
17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Language is a tricky thing. I don’t want to bore you with discourse. I try not to write dialogue in a different language (especially if it’s not one I speak myself) unless it’s absolutely called for, or if they’re just basic phrases and I’m 100% certain I won’t be getting it wrong. I have read fics where this was done very well though, and I’ve found that it really adds to the atmosphere in those cases.
18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?
It was for this old anime called Princess Tutu. I danced ballet when I was younger and loved it so much – I believe I was only twelve at the time?? But I think the fic may still be floating around on FF.net somewhere.
19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?
I wrote philtatos in a four-day fever dream. It’s not the most technically perfect fic I’ve ever written or anything like that, but I think it’s the one that reveals the most about who I am as a person. That is an incredibly cheesy thing to say, I know. I always joke that posting that fic felt like offering my still-beating heart on a silver platter to the void, but there you are.
For Critical Role, surprisingly enough it’s this ficlet I wrote called sinners, a small bite of Shadowdrei where I was parsing my ideas on Astrid and Eadwulf’s dynamic and where they stood when it came to Bren/Caleb and Essek. I didn’t realize how fully formed my thoughts were until I wrote that. Fascinating what your own writing will show you about the things that are in your mind.
Tagging with no pressure whatsoever: @naromoreau @jenanigans1207 @saretton @theseedsofdoom @musegnome!
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imnotwolverine · 4 years
Text
Couch People
Henry Cavill x OC (you) drabble 
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Word count: 2.907
Warnings: Alcohol consumption and pure and utter fluff. 
Author’s note: I had a DREAM (last night). And I decided to write about it in Henry’s POV, since that’s a cute lil’ twist on the usual meet-cute situation. 
--
My couch is my new favourite object. It wasn’t up to last night. Yesterday it probably was like..my kitchen aid, or my glute drive. But today? It’s definitely my couch. Not only because I’m still slightly hungover and the thing is darn comfortable. No. It’s something else.
Sighing, I sink further down into the soft pillows, that darn tartan red throw still lingering in the corner, smelling of you. Fuck. I’m having it bad, huh?
Should I lose the tie? Was it too formal? Hesitantly tugging at the silk I watch the last of the audience leave the London Studios, the infamous red couch now moved to the side so a cleaning crew can ready the stage for the next show. I’m glad it’s over and fans leave me be for a hot second, my mind quite elsewhere as of this moment.
Before me stand the people I recognise to be your friends. Men, all of them. Their voices low but merry as they bounce off the walls of the almost completely emptied out space.
‘Hi Henry.’ Your voice tinkles above the low hum of voices and quite instantly I feel my nerves back in my throat. Shit..Now what? What the hell was I even planning on…Damnit …
‘Hi.’ Is all I can manage back, the six men around you now also turning to offer me a warm welcome. And from the looks on their faces, they know full well why I am here. You, however, seems to be a bit clueless, your fingers reaching into one of your friends’ backpacks to fetch some lip balm.
‘Good show, hmm?’ You mumble, brushing the balm over your supple lips. Kissable lips.
‘Sure was.’ I agree. Come on Henry. You’ll have to do better than that! You don’t seem to care though, your attention drifting back to one of your friends, who raises an expecting eyebrow at you.
‘Oh, eh..Henry, you want to join us? We want to go out for some drinks..and some food maybe?’
‘FOOODD.’ One of the guys grabs his beer belly and makes a gesture like he’s been starved for weeks - which is obviously not true. I chuckle. They seem like good guys. And so very normal, which only makes me like you more.
‘I’d love to.’
‘Oh! And I still have to pee.’ One of the more lanky built men intervenes, to which the whole group blurts; ‘Pee-break!’
One pee-break and a short cab drive later,  I have brought you to one of my favourite pubs. Not only because it’s close to my home. Also, because I know the owner and with a blink of my blue eyes I can get us to use the room upstairs, which is usually reserved for exclusive events. Well. Tonight is an exclusive event, okay? The pub is old, mahogany and smelling of good times, the upstairs level reached through a very, VERY steep and very narrow step of stairs. With hands and feet we climb up, finding a low ceiling room, in equally dark and wooden hues. A lone rough table is set up, inviting us to take a seat before an old paned window that lets you look out over the drunken banter below.
In moments there is fish and chips by the bucket load and a few pitchers of beer, which your friends drink from greedily. And, of course, a glass of wine for you. You don’t like the bitter taste of beer. I make a mental note of that.
There’s nothing stuck up about you. You smile so easily, joke so merrily - and did I spot some nerdy references that escaped your lips? With every glass of wine there are more and it makes my whole body thrum with excitement.  Though perhaps that’s also just the beer talking.
Much too soon your friends have to leave to take their late flight back home. The fact that they had flown out here just to celebrate your success after years of hard work, just shows how good a bunch they are. And you are to them. With any other women with male friends, I’d easily pick on ulterior motives. But not with these guys. You go way back. You’re good. Golden. One of the guys. Though, dear god in heaven, am I happy you’re a woman.
Long bear hugs are exchanged between you and your friends as I stand there on the sidewalk, trying to evade the looks and attention of the drunken merry. The night is cold and winter is soon to come, the lot of us huddling in our winter coats as cars pass by, driving through deep puddles. With a last wave we send your friends off into a cab, back to their homes.
And then it’s just us.
‘So..’ You suck your lips in, eyes darting out to send a warning glance at some drunk brits that take a snapshot of us - it happens so often I barely even care about it still. I try to look as gentlemanly as ever, but the pints dance happily in my eyes. I know it from the way your gaze softens when you look back at me. ‘It was a good night.’ You say.
And I half disagree; ‘It IS a good night.’ As soon as I say it, I’m not sure if the drink is making me overly courageous, my arm hesitating to reach out and offer you something to hold onto. You chuckle.
‘You’re right. Especially since it’s not raining. GOOD HEAVENS.’ And with that you slip your hand around the crook of my arm without question. Like it’s the most natural thing to do, your cold fingers feeling like icicles through the wool of my coat. If only I could warm you up properly.
‘And you’re taking a long holiday? Any plans?’ I try to keep easy conversation flowing, referring to something you had mentioned during Graham’s show. I knew you were taking some time off after this movie was all wrapped up. I had been there, working on the same set, so I know how crazy it had been.
‘Yea...it’s been a crazy two years. Which is a long time not to have any holidays.’ You widen your eyes in exasperation as your feet elegantly move around a large puddle.
‘Tell me all about it.’ I sigh. Unfortunately for me, I’m soon to start on yet another production. Which means no holidays for me.
‘But ehm..I actually made zero plans. My whole life was planned out near minute to minute for the past years. I just need to ..get back to basics, you know? Sleep a full 8 hours. Walk. Cook. Take long baths. Maybe..go hiking in the highlands. Or..go to the Bahamas..I’ve never been to the Bahamas! Or…’
‘A right here.’ I interrupt you, sending us into the direction of a small alleyway.
‘Oohh..must I trust you now or is this where I find out you’re a serial killer, Mr. Cavill?’ You tease.
‘Mm..I’m too busy a man to spend my time planning out how to murder people.’
‘Very well Hannibal.’
‘Hahaha..good series.’ - There’s those nerdy references bubbling up again.
’Tis.’ You agree, sighing deeply as the darkness swallows us, leaving the crowded street behind until there’s nothing else but us and the tap of our feet on the cold wet cobble stone. You lean slightly closer to me and I’m glad you do.
‘So..’ You look up at me. ‘Are we mere wanderers or are we heading to mount doom to get rid of some pesky ring?’
I snort laugh. Yep. I definitely snorted. And you laugh merrily in turn. God, you’re cute.
‘I don’t know Sam, I don’t know.’
You grumble softly in playful dissatisfaction. ‘What if I want to be Frodo?’
‘If you so wish to be, fellow over-sized hobbit. Though I think, since you sound like such a well planned, yet easy going lady, you’re a Sam. BESIDES, you say you love to cook and work in the garden..that definitely makes you a Sam.’
‘True, true.’ You hum, the light at the other side of the alley coming closer, your feet suddenly starting to drag. Almost as if you don’t want to get back into the light, where drunk hustle and bustle is about. I stop and you look up at me, head tilting slightly upwards.
‘Say, Frodo. What does a woman do in this town when she doesn’t want to call it a night, yet?’
I pretend to think about it, though my mind knows full well where we could be going now. ‘Depends on what you want to do, Sam.’
‘As much as I’d like an adventure..so cold are my feet. Something indoors, perhaps?’
Exactly what I was planning.
‘I know just the place. Though…it’s..very private, okay?’
‘Are we going to find prancing ponies and kitten heeled Striders there?’ - With that you print this vision in my head of Aragorn in high heels, lurking on a pipe, and it makes me chuckle aloud. You are slightly cheeky too.
‘Mmm..more like large hounds and vast amounts of books, all crammed into a cute little..’
‘It’s your place isn’t it?’
I chuckle. ‘Yea..I live 5 minutes from here.’
‘Okay. But just in case you are considering a career change; please don’t eat me.’
I smile, nudging us to move ahead, our eyes squinting at the bright street light as we return to the land of the living drunk and the hum of stationary engines. As most pubs are closing for the night, everyone tries to grab a cab.
‘Well, looks like I wouldn’t have come home at this hour anyways haha.’ You mumble, our feet jumping over another puddle as we move to yet another alleyway.
We don’t have to take this route. But I like the lack of people. And having you squeezed up against my arm. So maybe it’s not a five minute walk entirely. You thankfully don’t seem to care.
‘You live in London?’
’Not really. Though for work I’m here half of the week. I stay at this cute hostel with THE MOST COMFORTABLE BEDS I have ever slept in. Like. Ugh. It’s fantastic.’
‘And your real home?’
‘Not such a good bed.’
We shouldn’t be talking about beds at this hour, but I suddenly can’t think of anything else to talk about.
‘Well, the best bed I’ve ever slept in is right at home.’
‘Mmm..are you suggesting anything there, Hannibal?’ Where you were clueless about my flirtations whilst we were sitting on Graham’s couch, the message seems to come across quite perfectly now, your eyes glittering with promise.
I act shocked, but we both know better. ‘Never!’ I say, to which we belt out in loud laughter, the sound echoing off the tall buildings at either side of us.
‘Gods, you are cheeky after a few pints hahah.’ You laugh.
‘And you are walking home with a complete stranger.’
‘Naa..I checked your Wikipedia page. So. Not complete stranger. I think it’s actually YOU who’s walking home with a stranger.’
‘Quite so.’
You’re right. We’ve worked together for 3 months on the same set, but I’ve only seen you from afar. In fact, you were kind of my boss. Which would’ve made any advances from my side even weirder. Tonight felt like the first real opportunity, now the project was finished. And here we were. In front of my house.
After a few awkward fumbles I manage to unlock the door, the two of us being welcomed by a sleepy Kal, his wet nose diving head-first into my face.
‘Down boy.’ I grumble, but thankfully you’re not afraid of my large hound, your fingers already racing through his thick fur before I have managed to close the door behind us.
‘Hi baby!! You are SO CUTE! JUST LOOK AT YOU!! And so tired too! You been sleeping, big boy?’
Kal loves you already. And I..?
‘A wine would be good.’ You look up at me as I just stand there staring at you. Shaking myself from my thoughts and awkward nerves, I put our coats away and try to find some decent bottle of red wine. I forgot to ask what kind you like, so I’ll just have to pick whatever. ‘Make yourself comfortable!’ I say aloud, but as I return with a bottle and two glasses I already see you’ve done just that, legs pulled up and that stupid tartan throw wrapped around your legs, Kal getting yet another head scratch from you.
Oh, he loves you a lot.
‘I hope cabernet is alright?’
You laugh and wave it away; ‘Henry. I had 5 glasses of wine. By this point you’d ALMOST get me drinking beer. Almost haha.’
In what seems like a blink of the eye this bottle is finished as well and the world is near spinning when I get up to make us a snack. Which of course is the worst idea ever at like 2..3..4 am? I can’t see quite straight enough anymore and the giddiness in my bones is showing in the most idiotic grins I’ve probably ever had on my cheeks. My face is going to hurt tomorrow. From laughing, that is.
As I haphazardly decide I should first ask what you want to eat, I suddenly find the long despised throw of my ex earning a much welcomed new, far sweeter memory. In the deep soft pillows of the couch, there you lie. Knocked out asleep, fingers still trailing through Kal’s fur, his head not daring to move as I look the pupper in the eye.
‘Well..’ 
I can’t send you home like this. And so, with a dangerous wobble in my inebriated knees, I tuck you in, the smooth wool warm as it moves beneath my fingertips.
For just a moment I wonder if I should put you in my bed, so I’ll sleep on the couch. But you’re laying so comfortably, that I’m afraid I’ll wake you..and then you’ll probably leave. I don’t want you to leave. Yes. I should have you stay. I..eh…
Blinking I look around the room, deciding how I should keep you to at least stay for breakfast. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you, you know? And so I grab for some paper and a pen, my handwriting not what it should be.
“Good morning, Sunshine. In case the drinks were too many; the dog’s name is Kal. Don’t worry about him. And I’m upstairs. Feel free to grab anything you like. Also. In exchange for a couch..how about we have breakfast, together? Henry.”
Waking up was like thinking everything was a dream. A very drunken dream. My head was screaming for water and sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself from racing downstairs first, only to find you were still asleep. Just where I left you. It was only after I started cracking up my cooking skills (cheesy eggs with toast), that you woke up. Large yawns were heard from the couch-area, before you groggily walked into the kitchen, hair in disarray and just perfect in my humble opinion.
‘Mmmoo- *yawn* -orning.’ You bring out, hands rubbing over your eyes.
‘Hi.’
You are so cute. 
And then you step in closer, eyeing my cooking, your scent and body so close, I wish we were at the point that I could grab you into a hug, delve my nose into your hair.
‘Sleep well?’ I ask with a crooked smile, your face nodding but your body saying: I need more sleep, for the love of the gods.
After breakfast you quirk up, that cute smirk back on your lips as you lick them in satisfaction.
‘That’s some fine cooking there Frodo.’
‘Thanks Sam.’
‘And a couch that makes a close second to the hostel’s bed.’
‘HAhaha..oh..yes. I was not sure what to do. Wake you up? Put you in my bed? I mean..a lot of..options.’ I trail off as your smile grows. 
‘..I’m so sorry for putting you in that position, Henry. And also, apologies for falling asleep as you were just about to make a snack. Its typical me; midnight snack-time? I fall asleep.’
‘Well, it’s your holidays. You can sleep all you want’
‘So it is.’ You fold your fingers around your hot cup of tea - no sugar, no milk. I make a mental note of that too.  
With curious eyes you watch me sit across you, the kitchen table suddenly feeling too large, too wide. I want to be closer to you. Snuggle up to you. You look so snuggable.
‘Any plans for today?’ You inquire lightly.
And that’s when it clicks. I could keep you around a little longer, maybe? De-hangover together, maybe?
‘Want to stay for a bit?’ I ask, hope sparking in the swallow of my nervous throat.
‘Sure.’
I think that’s what I like the most about you. It’s easy. Natural. No hassle. No hunt. Though I would have hunted you, if that is what it would have taken.
Now I’m sitting here on the couch and you’ve just gone back to your hostel. I mean, I get it. We’ve been together for nearly 24 hours. When we’re not even..like..more than strangers. For a moment I wondered if I should kiss you, after we walked Kal, our hands interlinked - which also felt so very normal.
The more glad I was when you did it for me.
You kissed me.
Those sweet chapped lips on mine. 
I sink further into the couch and sigh. I like you a lot my sweet Sam.
--
(Link to my Masterlist)
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zechleton · 3 years
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Ranting and Raving About Magic in 2022
I haven’t written about Magic in ages, so what better way could there be to get back into the habit that a stream of consciousness spiel about the 2022 announcement?
Strap in, folks, because this is going to be long and poorly edited.
Actually, it’s not that long, about 1500 words. It might feel longer, though.
Neo-Tokyo or something idk
As one of the five people on r/magictcg that didn’t want to return to Kamigawa in standard set, I have to admit this one looks surprisingly awesome. The couple of pieces of art Wizard shared looked fantastic, as usual, and I’m a sucker for that blue/pink colour scheme. I’m not a huge fan of time travel as a story telling device but since the Magic story has always served the card game, using tropes I don’t enjoy is far from a deal-breaker. Yeah – I’m cautiously optimistic about this one.
Someone Made Elspeth an Offer she Couldn’t Refuse
Obviously, we know much less about this set. Still, it sounds right up my alley. I’m curious how Wizards is going to make Magic meets The Godfather work, but the good kind of curious. On top of that, I’d really like to have some more shard-based commanders on Arena for Brawl, and I assume we’re the “three-colour demon crime families” isn’t referring to clans (triome?) again after leaving Ikoria behind. Also, come on, how can you not love the sound of demon crime families?
Glory, Glory, Dom United!
There is a part of me that gets nervous about nebulous concepts like design space whenever we go back to an old plane again. All these crossovers (more on those later) take on a different appearance when viewed through an “are they running out of ideas” lens. Still, Dominaria was fantastic, by far the best “return to” set – though I’m hoping Innistrad claims that throne in a few weeks. With that in mind, I’m expecting Wizards to knock it out of the park with DU, just like they did with Dominaria.
The Nostalgia Wars
I might scoff somewhat at Magic’s storyline sometimes, but I’ve read the stuff that people think is good. I own both collections of the Artifacts Cycle. They all pale in comparison to good fantasy, but they’re not bad, and they hold a special place in my heart from when I was more invested in stuff like lore and story. The point of that ramble? 2022, more than ever, is Wizards’ mining the seemingly neverending mineral that is nerd nostalgia. It further adds to my “are they running out of ideas” worry, but I can’t say the nostalgia hit/psychological manipulation isn’t working on me. Hell, Return to Return to Innistrad has me more excited than any set for a couple of years now so I guess I’m part of the problem.
Uncaring
The phrase “not for you” is thrown around distrubingly often in Magic circles nowadays. Unfinity, however, is decidedly not for me. And that’s fine.
Dungeons And Dragons Battle for Baldur’s Gate Commander Legends I Think That’s The Whole Title But Maybe I Missed a bit I’m not Sure
Yikes, what a mouthful. I hate the title, both its length and unwieldiness. I don’t really have much interest in the set either. Commander Legends was a neat idea with a lot of flaws. Adding crossover flavour from another IP I have little-to-no interest in isn’t helping matters, though I appreciate that Adventures in the Forgotten Realms was super popular. For me, AFR was pretty much just a core set without any of the usual references to sets I do know and care about. Another “not for me” release.
Double Trouble
Hmm. I’m torn here. As a primarily limited-focused player, Masters sets have been some of my favourites ever. Original Modern Masters is still one of my in my top five sets of all time, and I have fond memories of almost all of the others, too.
Original Double Masters, though, was a victim of apathy brought on by the never-ending deluge of Magic product being released nowadays. I have never even seen a booster of this product, much less opened one. Without looking it up, I can’t even tell you if it was hurt by the pandemic or not, because there’s just way too much fucking stuff nowadays. I don’t know what else to say.
Oh, hang on. Was this the set with a $100 VIP Booster? Hahaha, fuck off.
Jump Around
The original Jumpstart was surprisingly enjoyable on Arena. I never wanted to play it more than a few times, and sometimes you got packs that relied entirely on your opponent getting mana screwed, but those few times I played it were pretty fun. I think putting stuff like obvious eternal format staples like Alosaurus Shepherd in a set like this is some extremely anti-consumer bullshit, but as a play experience it was an interesting mesh of draft and sealed. Not as much fun as either of those, but close enough that the novelty carried it into the “pretty fun, actually” camp. I expect more of the same – I’ll probably do a few runs if I have gems or gold spare.
Universes Beyond: Warhammer 40K Commander et al
Really, this is the bit about all the crossover stuff.
Another vomit inducing title and one that has left me with some introspection to do. Like many people, I find a lot of this crossover stuff distasteful, but I can’t really say why. The fact that the Street Fighter one – an IP I have some amount of investment in – seems less egregious than Warhammer of D&D makes me think that I don’t necessarily object to crossovers on principal. Does my dislike come from the fact that, so far, all of the other crossovers don’t involve properties I care about? Maybe. Even the mechanically unique line of text that pissed off so many people when the Walking Dead set came out doesn’t bother me that much, because Commander is a format I can take or leave.
The Fortnite one rubs me a different wrong way, though. Partly, it’s the sheer fucking inevitability of it all. Of course a popular part of the nerd sphere will have a crossover with Fortnite because that’s just the world in which we live. Partly it makes me feel old, uncool, and excluded, like all the other crossovers I don’t care about, sure. But there’s something more visceral about Fortnite. It’s fucking everywhere and I resent feeling like I have to have an opinion about it. Still, I don’t really have strong opinions about most of the other crossovers, so why this one? I really don’t know. Maybe this is one “this isn’t for you” too many from a game that has been part of my life for over 20 years.
I haven’t bought a single Secret Lair, but I’m generally willing to accept that they’re a bonus product that isn’t needed by anyone but is wanted by some. Hell, if they put out Secret Lair: Snapcaster Mage with good art (at last), I could probably te tempted into picking one up. It would be against my better judgement, though. Something about all these “not necessary but also don’t miss out, aren’t they cool, spend more money please” products rubs me the wrong way. Playing Magic and hating capitalism are difficult interests to reconcile. That’s it. That’s the tagline for this article.
Oh, right, it’s just a blog. Never mind.
Oh, God. The Fornite Secret Lair is going to be the Snapcaster Mage one, isn’t it?
Then there’s Lord of The Rings. My pal Kristen will be thrilled about this, was my first thought. I’m less enthusiastic (shocker, right?), but at least LOTR makes sense as a thing to crossover with. I mean, apart from the obvious business sense. It doesn’t have any guns and it isn’t an obnoxiously ubiquitous battle royale FPS, so that already puts it ahead of two of the other three crossovers. Indeed, without LOTR, you can make a reasonable case that MTG would never exist in the first place. Personally, I view LOTR in the same way I view The Beatles – they were important, and worthy of respect, but have been surpassed in every way since.
And the movies are better than the books. There I said it.
Regardless, this one is fine, actually. I still don’t particularly care for crossovers in general, especially as the setting for a standard set, but at least it makes sense this time.
Shut up Already
Alright, I hear you. I know a lot of that was negative towards the end, but I want to reiterate that a lot of the stuff happening in standard sets next year is really exciting, if a little unoriginal. The crossover/sellout stuff and the interminable deluge of FOMO-driven products is worrying and disappointing, but I guess we just have to try and ignore the ever-increasing number of “not for you” products and focus on the stuff we do like. Seriously, Neon Destiny looks amazing, and I don’t even like anime.
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songtoyou · 3 years
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Epiphany - Part One
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Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader
Chapter Rating: PG-13 
Word Count: 2,204
Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery, mention death of a family member. 
Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.  
A/N: I finally watched the Haunting of Hill House a while back. I found Luke to be very interesting. This is my take on how Luke would go on with life after Nell’s death and how his continued path to remain sober would look like.
I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.
Updated: Cleaned up for grammar and punctuation errors.
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An epiphany is when a sudden and intuitive perception of insight into reality. It can provide a great moment of revelation and present itself as symbolic insight. Some people experience it while others often search for it.
Life was not easy for Luke Crain or his siblings. After the recent events of Hill House, Luke was scared of a life without his twin sister, Nell. Despite Luke being ninety seconds older, he always felt that Nell was his big sister. She was his protector. The only person to believe in him when others constantly sowed doubt. Unfortunately, Hill House ended up taking Nell in the end, along with his father Hugh. Luke was scared. More scared than he had ever been now that Nell was gone.
However, Luke was determined to get clean. To remain clean. He had to do it, not only for Nell but for himself. Both Steve and Theo pitched in to help pay for a good rehab center for Luke to stay. At first, Luke told them, no, but it was Theo who adamantly expressed her desire to support him.
“Luke, you have made it to 90-days. I can tell you want to remain clean. We all see it. Nell still believes in you and so do we. I want to be supportive of you because you’re my little brother and I love you,” said Theo.
With the support and help of his siblings, Luke decided to stay in Massachusetts for treatment. He took up residence with Shirley in the guest house since Theo decided to move out to live on her own. Despite her worries, Shirley believed in her little brother and his determination to remain clean. One could say it was her way to make amends for the guilt she held by not allowing Luke to attend Nell’s wedding.
It was actually Shirley’s husband Kevin, who recommended Banyan Treatment Center in Wilmington, Massachusetts. “One of my sisters went there for her alcohol addiction. She responded well to the program and has continued to stay sober for two-years. Banyan has a good family counseling program, along with outpatient therapy. Pretty much will have everything you need to continue your path for sobriety,” said Kevin one night after dinner.
It did not take long for Steve and Theo to be on board with Luke deciding on Banyan. Both liked what they read of the place. The treatment center was not uber fancy, like the one Shirley paid for all those years ago but also was a tad upscale compared to the rehab center in Los Angeles Luke recently attended.
The therapists and case managers at Banyan were nice and friendly. Rob, Luke’s primary therapist, helped ease him into a routine. Even though Luke was now over 90 days sober, Rob recommended intensive outpatient therapy every day for an hour session. Luke admitted to Rob, along with his siblings, that he was worried about relapsing due to Nell and Hugh’s deaths. He did not want to fall back into old and dangerous habits.
For 30 days, Luke was committed to his intensive outpatient therapy. Talking over his childhood trauma at Hill House and the recent events helped, not only explain his phobias but also tackle his post-traumatic stress. Hill House had a long-lasting effect that damaged his entire family. So much so, that all he wanted to be was numb. To not have to deal with the images in his mind or how the loss of his mother disturbed him.
When Luke “graduated” from intensive outpatient therapy to regular outpatient therapy, Rob recommended a sponsor for him. The Center’s alumni recovery program allowed for past patients who have succeeded in their program to help mentor those currently in the early stages of detox, treatment, and recovery. Having a strong and influential network of sober peers can make all of the difference between an addict relapsing or staying strong through hard times.
That is how you came into Luke Crain’s life. Rob recommended you to Luke as a sponsor. You had just celebrated your third anniversary of recovery. It was not that you had a bad childhood as the reason you turned to drugs. You were not abused, both of your parents were still alive, nor had you experienced any other forms of childhood trauma. Similar to Luke, heroin was your choice of escapism; the way to ease the feeling of pain and suffering. Not your own, but other peoples’.
That was the downside of being an empath.
Of course, no one believed you about being an empath. Your mother had always referred to you as an overly sensitive child and that stress was not something you handled very well. When having to deal with the ability to sense what people are feeling, whether the emotions are happy, sad, scared, stressed, disturbed, or angry, can be a lot for a person to handle. There came a time when taking on the pain of others became too much. You no longer wanted that burden. You no longer wanted to feel anything.
It did not matter how many rehab facilities your parents sent you to or how many times they pleaded; you did not care. For once, you put yourself first. Heroin helped you stop feeling. Helped you feel numb and content. You were happy. Of course, when the high wore off, as it always does, you were back to reality. You hated reality.
The last hit you had made you end up in the hospital. The doctor explained how you overdosed but were able to resuscitate you in time. That was when you finally realized you needed to change. Needed to get clean once and for all. You knew it would take time and patience. That you would not magically become clean and sober overnight. It was a process. Setbacks were a possibility. However, there was always a little voice in the back of your head that helped pull you through the dark times, to motivate you to keep going.
Now here you were about to meet the new mentee that Rob assigned you to. He only gave a little backstory about Luke, but not many other details. You ended up texting Luke asking him to meet you on Sunday at your favorite coffee shop, the As Good As It Gets Café. He promptly replied that he would see you there around noon.
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 When Sunday finally rolled around, you headed to the café and waited. It was a quarter past twelve and Luke still had not shown up. You were starting to get nervous and wondering if he would ever appear. You were on the verge of texting him when the bell on the entry door chimed, indicating that someone was entering the café. You looked up and saw a very tall, scruffy, and attractive looking man standing by the door. The way he was looking around with a lost kind of look helped pinpoint that this was Luke. You got up from your booth and walked over to him.
“Luke?” you politely asked.
“Yes,” he said.
You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake, which he took. You immediately became overwhelmed with the emotions that permeated this man. There was a lot of pain and loss underneath. But there was also a sense of hope and happiness that felt nice.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked wondering why all of a sudden you had a weird look on your face.
“Hmm? I’m sorry. I’m fine. I didn’t mean to…daze off for a second,” you laughed and pointed over to the booth you previously occupied. You walked over with Luke following.
“I’m sorry that I’m late. I was finishing up some homework and didn’t track the time properly,” Luke shared.
“Oh, where do you go to school?”
“Uh…I take a creative writing course at Bunker Hill Community College,” he replied.
“Nice. How are you liking it so far?” you asked him.
Before Luke could respond, one of the waitresses came over asking if Luke wanted anything to drink. Indicating that he just wanted coffee, the two of you were soon left alone.
“I like it. The instructor is really nice. It is the only course I am taking, so it doesn’t take up too much of my time. My older brother, Steve, actually encouraged me to enroll after I shared some of my writing with him. He’s a writer himself. I don’t know if you ever heard of him, Steven Crain? He has written a lot of books, mostly ghost stories. His most famous one is, ‘The Haunting of Hill House’. Have you read that book?”
“I have not. I tend to stay away from horror genres,” you told Luke.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Luke was adverting his gaze to anywhere but you. It was easy to tell that he was nervous and unsure of himself.
“Luke,” you spoke up to get his attention and said, “You don’t have to be anxious or feel uneasy. Getting here, to this step, is a big freaking deal. I get it, trust me. I absolutely get it. I never thought I’d be here. To be completely frank, I always pictured myself dead somewhere in the streets. I’m sure you pictured the same for yourself. But it didn’t. You’re here today because you wanted more for yourself. That is something to be proud of.”
Letting out a sigh, Luke sat back in the booth and crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes he did not feel proud. He missed Nell. He missed her all of the time. She always believed in him no matter how many times he broke her heart. Nell always forgave him. She was always there when he needed someone to bail him out of trouble.
“You okay, Luke? If you would rather do this another time, that is okay. We can reschedule,” you offered. You could sense a feeling of grief underneath the surface of the man sitting before you.
“No. No, I’m sorry. I…uh…I was thinking about Nellie. My twin sister. She…she died recently. Well, not recent, two months ago. So, it’s still…very…it’s still a lot to handle.”
“I’m sorry,” you told him earnestly. “What was it like having a twin? I don’t have any siblings, so I always like to hear other people’s sibling stories.”
“Having siblings has its pros and cons,” Luke laughed, but continued, “They can be much at times, but I’m glad to have them. Especially now that Nellie is gone. They have been incredibly supportive, which makes all the difference in the world.”
“I really appreciate you sharing this with me, Luke. I know it can’t be easy. I am a stranger after all. You’re actually my second mentee from the alumni recovery program. My previous one …well her story didn’t have a happy ending,” you shared with Luke.
He could relate. When he left the clinic in Los Angeles to find Joey and bring her back to get her clean again. She was nine-months clean at the time but ended up using while being back on the streets. Luke would be lying to himself if he did not say he was rather disappointed in Joey. To him, Joey was someone who he could look up to while trying to get clean. He should have known something was off with her during what would be their last night at the clinic. Joey reminded him of Nell, so he could not stand by and do nothing. Joey helped him during his first week at the clinic. So, Luke felt that he owed it to her to return the favor.
Unfortunately, Joey did not want his help in the end. To this day, Luke still does not know what really happened to her after she swiped the drugs off him and headed towards that alley. But deep inside, Luke knew she did not make it. That her body would either be discovered or continue to rot in that alley. Theo would tell him that Joey was not his responsibility. That he had to put himself first when it came to recovery.
Luke pushed his coffee cup to the side and leaned on the table. You were so focused on your own coffee cup that you did not notice him staring at you intently. He was taking you in and assessing you. So far, he could admit that he found you attractive. You had a nice built. Your clothing was not too flashy. He could tell that you were the type to choose comfortable clothing over fashionable attire. However, it was your eyes that stood out. There was a softness and warmness to them that he found quite soothing. There were no ulterior motives behind them or any sense of malice. Luke could see that your intentions with him were good and that you really wanted to help him in his recovery by being a supportive mentor.
“Hey,” he said to get your attention. “I promised that I’ll come to talk to you if I ever feel like I might…. Or if I just feel like I need someone to talk to.”
“I appreciate that, Luke,” you told him sincerely.
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Korosuu Translation - Chapter One
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Some notes before we begin: 
This is the only piece of official Ass Class content that - to my knowledge - is not translated anywhere. It doesn’t look like anyone has any plans to, so I’ve decided to take the task upon myself. This book is kind of like the korotans, but teaches maths instead of English. It also has a Chiba and Hayami focused short story, which is what I will translate here.
I am not fluent in Japanese. I’m a mere university student who has been studying for about two years now. Whilst I feel confident enough to get the general meanings of things, I have had to use a dictionary pretty heavily with this and some word meanings and grammar parts might be incorrect. I’m only making this because I want people to be able to enjoy the book, so it’s no professional calibre translation and I please ask that you take everything with a pinch of salt. I know there are mistakes and sentences that don’t feel right, but I think you can still get the general meaning.  
The tenses are weird because Matsui kind of wrote them that way, and I generally decided not to alter them. This is my first time translating prose (I’ve only done manga panels in the past), so I’m not sure if this is a common thing in Japanese books or not. 
Whilst I’ve naturalised some sentences, others are a little more hard for me to reword so a prewarning that they may come across as a little stiff and awkward in parts. I’m still learning with this. 
Okay now that’s out of the way, the chapter! 
Chapter One - Invisible Sniper Time
During the usual E Class’ usual lunch break, Chiba Ryuunosuke, Okajima Taiga, and also Takebayashi Kotarou are gathered together, and are enjoying chatting as usual. This was the usual scenery that happened every day.
However, the usual atmosphere was a little different that day. The trigger was something that Chiba murmured.
“That’s why Chiba, you’ve tried that method over and over again, yeah? I realised that it wouldn’t be enough, so right now I’m using it in combinations with other methods.” Okajima said with a dumbfounded face, whilst holding a camera.
“I get it, that’s why I wondered if you could do it.” Chiba answered in a way that might seem blunt to people who he didn’t know. Since he covered his eyes with long bangs, he was easily misunderstood by a few people, but his close classmates knew that with the same old warmth, he was a cool and collected guy.
Takebayashi heard that, and points out whilst fixing his glasses with his index finger “if you snipe with a single shot, the sound of fire will always arrive before the bullet. Korosensei will sense the trajectory in the direction of the sound and easily avoid it. Afterall, he’s a Mach 20 monster.”
“What are you talking about?” They were interrupted by Hayami Rinka. Alongside Chiba, she’s the girl with the highest sniper results.
“Nah, Chiba was saying there isn’t a way to assassinate Korosensei with just a sniper.” When Takebayashi answered, Hayami tilted her head.
That assassination had been tried many times by Chiba and two people. There were shooting results from the two top participants. However, it all failed due to the reason Takebayashi said, and the superhuman ability of the target teacher. A simple sniper alone cannot kill him first. That should be the conclusion made between the two of them.
Chiba saw Hayami’s expression and immediately understood her thoughts, and then connected them to words. “I know it’s impossible, but it feels regrettable to do nothing like this.”
“Yeah,” Hayami nodded.
“Class, please listen.” Karasuma Tadaomi entered the classroom, and stood on the platform as he spoke to everyone on the spot. “I’ll tell you whilst he’s gone. The government has hired a new assassin.”
They weren’t surprised, because this wasn’t the first time. The government has hired professional assassins several times, but it was the usual pattern to give advance notice when there was a risk of involving the students in the E Class.
“Karasuma Sensei, what type of assassin is coming this time?” Kataoka Megu, who was chatting close by, asks.
“A slightly famous person. According to the source, they’re called the ‘Legendary Sniper’.” When Karasuma answered, Chiba and Hayami’s faces immediately perked up.
“A nickname without a twist…” Okajima forces a smile.
“Their exaggerated name means they’re not ashamed of their great skill. In everything, they seem to have succeeded in sniping many times from an impossible position.”
“Impossible position?” Takebayashi shook his head at Karasuma’s words.
“If I’m talking specifics, they would be behind the building, but still hit the target on the other side with a bullet. Of course, without shooting through the glass or anything like that. Is that an interested face?” The last word that Karasuma spoke was directed to Chiba and Hayami, not Takebayashi.
The pair nodded at the same time.
“From this standpoint, you can’t help too much, but there’s probably something you can investigate. Especially for you two and the others, it might be a reference for future assassination?”
“I don’t think there’s any reference if the sniper kills Korosensei.”
At the sound of Takebayashi’s voice, Karasuma shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think so. He can’t be killed by a human who doesn’t even know him at all. Even if this opponent is called the Legendary Sniper. Isn’t it better for you?”
-
Gathering information had never been so difficult. They searched their smart phones and their own laptops for sniper related incidents in the international news, and found many such articles. Most of it was written in English, but thanks to Nakamura Rio, who was close by to Takebayashi, it didn’t take long to read.
“That’s exactly what Karasuma Sensei said… Look at this, they were shot between the bullet proof limousine door the instant it opened. The line of fire should have been from this direction.” Chiba lifts the screen of the laptop he was looking at. Right there, there was an article that said the leader of a criminal organisation was assassinated under strict vigilance.
“Is that difficult?”
When Okajima looked at the screen, Chiba nodded.
“It seemed that it they were surrounded by bodyguards when they got out of the limousine, and the building they were trying to enter was an organisational building. There is no sniping point you can use to shoot into a limousine from over there.”
“Is it possible to hide and shoot?” Additionally, Okajima leant over.
Chiba shook his head. “They were only about ten meters away from the building. No matter how well they hid, they were probably able to shoot at such a distance. But this article isn’t sure where this sniper was.”
“That’s also true. They were shot from the front of the building whilst the police force were guarding. Not only the front, but all surrounding buildings were closed, and they were being monitored from above.” Hayami was looking at a case in Europe where a top enterprise was shot.
“The headline is also ‘A Magician’s Work? The Fear of the Invisible Sniper’. If this is a tabloid paper, I won’t do it anymore,” Nakamura said, looking at his laptop over Hayami’s shoulder.
“I found a number of different articles dealing the same case, so it seems like it really happened.”
“That’s right. But doing this is refreshing, hmm.”
Hayami thinks about Nakamura’s words.
“Hey, look at this. ‘Strangely, the bullets found on the scene were spherical, reminiscent of muskets’. Could this not be a hint?” At the point where Nakamura pointed, there was an English sentence she translated, and a small photo next to it was a silver bullet like a pachinko ball placed side by side with a rifle bullet for comparison.
Chiba also leaned to look at Hayami’s smart phone, and gave a big nod.
“Yeah, it helps, Nakamura. I think this is probably a really big hint.” Chiba, who usually doesn’t express many emotions, gazed at the screen whilst speaking with an unusually warm tone.
“Hey~, what have you been doing for so long?” Kurahashi Hinano called from behind Nakamura. When they explained clearly, Kurahashi replied with a smile. “Huh, it looks interesting doesn’t it? So, did you understand anything?”
“Originally, there isn’t enough information in online articles. I think we need to do something more.” Takebayashi answered.
Chiba nodded whilst Takebayashi was speaking.
“Right?” Kurahashi’s face perked up as she looked at Takebayashi’s laptop.
“If that’s the case, why don’t we go to the article and look at them?”
“That’s a good idea, but it’s all about Europe and America… right?” After answering Nakamura, Chiba looked at his own smartphone and frowned. “This article is in English, but it looks like the scene is in Japan.”
“What happened?” Nakamura used the smartphone and clicked on the screen that appeared. “Ah, there was also an article in Japanese. It looks like they did it for the news. It’s in Shibuya, Tokyo. It looks like they wrote about a mafia boss of the international expanding yakuza.”
“It’s decided~ This weekend, let’s have a picnic at the crime scene in Shibuya!!” Kurahashi pounded her hands on the table.
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That’s the end! It took me quite a while to do this, so don’t expect the next chapter right away! I’ll try my best to complete the whole book, though! 
Chapter two
My comments under the cut 
I don’t really get why Karma and Nagisa are in the illustration, when they’re literally not even mentioned lmao. 
Karasuma acts like this is a regular thing? That they just get random assassins joining their class every now and then? I guess it’s OC time for those wanting to write missing episode fics! 
It’s really nice to get some proper Chiba and Hayami dialogue, I hope this will be helpful to those who want to write them. I also love the dynamic of Nakamura joining in. 
It seems like the students bring their own laptops to class? That’s an interesting canon addition. 
And can we just have a moment to talk about Kurahashi? Literally slapping the fucking table in excitement at the prospect of having an assassination picnic? Incredible. We stan. 
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douxie-casperan · 3 years
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a memory of their father :)
The first few months behind the looming walls surrounding the castle’s innerworkings were proving stressful to say the least. Everything was so different to what Douxie had grown used to from the clothes he was expected to wear, the strict rules he was expected to follow and court manners which he was having additional instruction on multiple times a week on to ensure he could only ever give the best impression. When asked why this was so important the answer he received was a simple one, it is better to put your best foot forward than start on the back and have to work even harder to reach the same place. Prodding for clarification because that didn’t make much sense, after a small sigh he was informed that should anyone regardless of status discover his origins after he had already proved himself with a willingness to adapt it should not hurt his personal standing with them. Politics of the Court are like an ever evolving yet constant game of chess and by doing some of the leg work himself it would improve how people would interact with him more than relying entirely on his title of apprentice to carry him through.
To the now 10 year old it still sounded a bit silly but if it would help make life easier in the long run and given who said it, he didn’t see any reason to argue though he could not wait for those lessons to finally be over lest his head simply fall off from the amount of information he was being expected to memorise just to blend in.
Now for him the biggest novelty of being in Camelot as a citizen (?) was never having to worry about food after a lifetime of it being a constant worry and in how the kitchen staff sometimes snuck him a little bit extra for his plate or pouch and fussed as if he was one of their own. He always did try to be polite if he saw any of them, maybe that had something to do with it? Then he’d managed to try so many brand-new things already too! Lumbolls were possibly one of his favourites, those and the ryschewys though in both cases they are a bit on the special side in not being made often but whenever he got his hands on either after splitting them in half to share with Archie just like they used to while savouring each and every bite down to the last tiny pastry fleck.
His day to day duties when not indulging his ever growing sweet tooth weren’t quite what he had been expecting but he took to them with great enthusiasm anyway with an underlining fear of seeming ungrateful at the unique chance he’d been given accompanied if he did otherwise. These were often in the form of cleaning with a broom or scrubbing with a brush where directed, fetching enchantment ingredients required from the stores or occasionally elsewhere, sorting the books on shelves to finding one that might be needed and more often than not simply carrying things or acting as an extra pair of hands when the wizard needed. He didn’t mind particularly, it felt like he was being useful with the knowledge that if anybody asked he could truthfully respond that he was an errand helping the nerves. Sure they might have used the odd opportunity to do some exploring where they probably shouldn’t have been but knowing the terrain was important as was a quick escape route when knights are wandering around. Being a bit late from going the long way was a much better option than running into any of them, if the life before now had proved anything it was that being cautious was wise, the ones who disappeared were usually the ones that relied purely on luck and didn’t have at least three places to bolt for if things started to turn…
He wasn’t about to let his fear of where a mistake could lead him hold him back from doing anything but he wasn’t exactly about to ignore it completely either. Week by week his mental map was growing and most simply assumed he was getting better at navigating the halls which was true in a sense at least.
The other important note was how use of any form of magic was not permitted unless under the strict supervision of his regular lessons which included the cuff being held in Master Merlin’s workshop as a precaution both as much for himself and any who might realise it was more than for mere decoration. He was also told that if he stuck to this very important rule while being careful about how much he said beyond the closed door he would be allowed to keep his familiar with him if with an additional request that he posed as a cat. In both cases neither would be forever, it was simply important to keep up appearances and thus help ensure their safety in turn. Both figured the room they had been given Archie would be allowed to stretch his wings but they were always careful just in case someone might barge in and hoped might even be allowed to while being tutored as well soon. They were allowed to talk as long as there was no risk of being overheard mind, it was such an ingrained habit at this point neither could figure out why it needed to be brought up in the first place.
Today though was one of those that felt like the work was never done thanks to a chore list longer than a horse’s leg designed to keep him out of everyone’s hair while a big meeting was going on about things he didn’t have the privilege to hear even a hint of. Presently that left him on his hands and knees scrubbing away at the floor that had suffered more than it’s fair share of feet tracking through and was starting to become unsightly as a result with a cat, sans glasses just in case, pointing out any spot he missed while enjoying his own opportunity of being leisurely in the quiet afternoon sun. While he works it is the man who had been so curt in the morn who is currently occupying his thoughts, the same who felt like a as enigmatic now as he was the day they had first met.
"Hey Archie, is this what having a father is like?" Douxie asks suddenly out the blue whilst sounding a mite unsure, his previously focused expression turning into a frown that stares down at the brush he is holding.
"Or parent even, I don't really have any point of reference."
“Hmm? Ah, you are referring to the Master Wizard I presume.” He gets a nod in return and is given rapt attention by his charge.
“Certainly strict as one I would say and he does at least appear to have your interests at heart even if his methodology I cannot say I always agree with.”
“How so?”
“While there are times where your exact pronunciation matters such as spellwork for instance needing to be very precise and yours can lapse at times, he seems to act like any of the descriptions of usage is somehow beyond your reading comprehension unless a single sentence is stretched out by the syllable then repeated over and over until we’re all positively bored of hearing it. Quite a contrast given he still expects you to transcribe extracts to improve your handwriting ability,” comes an answer with a tail twitch.
“You will struggle to say some words in the expected manner which is more than fair but that does not mean you are unable to read anything put in front of you when it is the common language you are already used to.”
“Oh.” Douxie’s brow knits together in thought as it did make sense but there had to be a reason, never he did was without one, he’d come to realise that already.
“Unless it is something I should not be seeing yet?”
“Perhaps, it is not the impression he is giving me however. I do wonder however if he’s stalling deliberately? We are being kept in the dark there might be something else going on we are yet to be aware of.”
“Well he is the Master Wizard that must mean you have a few secrets and I am sure we will find out eventually!” He says taking a moment to give his arms a good stretch, a firm shake then goes back to scrubbing humming away a little as he does.
“It has only been a few months so far, maybe being mysterious is his big thing and it is all a test.”
“Indeed, we just might yet.”
It was late eve by the time he was finally finished with everything which had culminated in locating an older tome documenting the usage of tools from his sneaky glance at the first few pages though he darted away at the first sign of footsteps coming. Merlin had returning bringing a distinct lack of tension in his shoulders compared to what had been there for what felt like weeks causing the pair to look at one another confused not daring to say a word. The meeting is not mentioned nor is any question directed in regards to what had been accomplished either which was very unusual when he seemed to be keeping tabs on what sorts of things they had been up to when not under his feet. After checking that what he had asked was not sitting on the bench with a satisfied sound that could almost be taken as relieve, his cloak sweeps round as he takes the few steps to place a hand on the young boy’s head with a smile akin to the one he had once given at the gates causing him to blink a little bewildered.
“Well my boy, it would appear your patience has paid off. From tomorrow how do you feel in regards to learning some real magic?”
Douxie’s grin could not have been any wider if it tried.
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jeongyunhoed · 4 years
Text
Just One Night
Wooyoung / OC Inspired by “Before Sunrise” Pure word vomit, just a heads up. 
Who wouldn’t want to spend all night talking about stuff with Wooyoung. This is one looooooooong conversation. Just a heads up.
It all started on the train. Jung Wooyoung somehow felt a need to be bold upon seeing a girl reading an e-book in the corner all by herself. There weren’t many people who took the train at this time of the day, one of the train’s dead hours as it was commonly referred to by the staff. They were likely going down the same station after seeing so many people get off the previous ones. 
He saw a bunch of people move down the aisle, somewhat bickering amongst themselves towards their seats. It seemed like a foreign language. He noticed the girl look up at the ones passing by for a moment, seemingly with the same reaction as him before looking back at what she was reading. “Hey,” He called out to the girl in a low voice. 
The girl looked up, pausing when she saw where it came from. “Yes?” She said. 
“Do you understand what they’re saying?” He asked. 
She smiled, somewhat feeling relaxed about him despite their meeting being so sudden. “I- I think I have an idea, yeah. Took that class as an elective in high school once, Forgot a lot about it but I do remember some” She replied. 
That gave Wooyoung the signal to sit a little closer, but keeping his distance just in case so as not to frighten her. He moved a seat forward, while she watched him with an amused expression. “What do you think they were talking about?” He said, trying to keep the conversation going. 
“Hmm, I think they were talking about which snacks were better, one word I caught did mean snack” She chuckled. She noticed the distance between them. “You can sit over here, it’s okay” She pointed to the seat across from her that faced her. 
A smile spread across his face and he moved closer to the seat she gestured towards. “I’m Wooyoung, Jung Wooyoung” He held his hand out. 
“Jea. Ahn Jea, it’s nice to meet you” She shook it. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Jea,” He said, the smile still on his face. 
“You look like you’ve never talked to anyone on the train before” She teased. 
“You can’t blame me, at this day and age, talking to a stranger can mean so many things, most of them bad” He said. 
“I know what you mean,” Jea replied with a nod, putting her phone away. “I’d say blame the devices, but people have been trying to evade conversations even before then, when there were books and newspapers,” She added. 
“Would you rather read a story through your phone? Or would you rather read an actual book?” He asked curiously. 
“Oh an actual book, for sure,” Jea nodded. “Reading on my phone makes me dizzy, but there aren’t any physical copies left of what I’m reading” She admitted. 
“Can I ask what you were reading?” 
“I...can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” She grinned. “I’m kidding, it’s called The Old Man and the Sea.” 
“Ah, I think I know that,” Wooyoung nodded. “About an old man waiting for a big fish, but all the waiting and he doesn’t get any. You like that too?” 
Jea nodded as well. “I do. It’s not often I find someone who like this, let alone knows this story lately.” 
“Consider this as finding one” He was beaming. 
They got off the train. “Do you live around here?” He asked as they took their bags. Wooyoung helped Jea with her backpack while he slung his own bag over his shoulder. 
“Yeah, I just came from a family gathering,” She said. “Do you live around here?” She turned the question back to him. 
“Yeah, my dorm’s not far, but we’ll be going overseas for a while, so this is my last night here” Wooyoung replied. “I’m part of this dance crew, and we’re going on a month-long residency gig.” 
Jea looked impressed. “That’s amazing” She smiled. “A lot more amazing than what I do for a living, that’s for sure” She said. 
“Really? What do you do for a living?” Wooyoung chuckled. “I’m sure whatever you do is just as great.” 
“I work freelance, just in between things, you know,” She replied. 
They turned a corner as they left the station, randomly catching the first bus they saw. To their luck, it was further into the city. Wooyoung and Jea sat down by the window, amused at the looks the elderly men and women who were on the bus with them were giving them. “I don’t know why they looked at us all funny, like they were about to laugh” Wooyoung muttered. 
“Don’t ask me, I haven’t got a clue either,” Jea laughed as the bus began to move. Wooyoung watched her, slightly tempted to touch her hair but pulled his hand back. He was amazed, entranced, intrigued by what they were doing, and little did he know, she was feeling the same way. “You know how they say, that truth is stranger than fiction?” She suddenly looked back at him. 
“Hmm? Yeah” He nodded. “What about it?” 
“Do you ever think that maybe it’s like that because it’s the universe’s way of telling you that your life is a lot more interesting than you think?” She asked. 
That stumped him. “Now that you mention it, that makes sense. We look to fictional stories for an escape, but sometimes real events are too good to be true that it’s only convincing on paper” He replied. 
“Kind of like romance,” Jea mused. “Some love stories? People might think it’s all corny and cliche when those corny and cliche things are what actually happen.” 
Wooyoung chuckled. “Romance does look and sound good on paper, but I haven’t read a lot of love stories to know exactly what that is,” He said. 
Jea studied his face as she observed his reaction. She was trying her best not to stare at him too much. Wooyoung was extremely handsome, and she did see how he was meant to be seen by so many people, all the more overseas. “Not even your parents?” She asked curiously. 
“That’s all I know, maybe some friends too, but I guess you can never tell unless you’ve spent a few years together, or shared one good conversation,” Wooyoung sat back and so did Jea. 
“You can tell how a person thinks just by sharing a good conversation, yeah,” She repeated quietly and glanced out the window. 
They were walking along the river moments after they got down. The two of them were engrossed in a conversation about how many piercings they each have or if they had any tattoos. “Do you have one?” Wooyoung asked curiously. 
“I do, It’s very small, and it’s hardly noticeable given that it’s behind my ear and near my hairline” She said, showing him a small lightning bolt. 
“That’s painful, that spot, I mean” Wooyoung said. 
“I could handle it. Surprisingly, I’ve got a very high pain tolerance. I think I got it from my father’s side,” Jea shrugged. “As to why it’s a lightning bolt? Well, I just thought it was cute, lightning bolt designs looked cute to me.” 
Wooyoung looked amused. “It’s kind of refreshing to see that the tattoo you’ve got doesn’t have a lot of meaning to it, unless there is?” He raised a brow. 
“Nope, you’re right, there’s not a lot of meaning to it, it just looked cute” Jea chuckled. “People always say that things aren’t always as they seem, but there are times when it actually is what it is. Like, you don’t get philosophical when you see melting ice cream, do you?” She joked, making him laugh. 
“Ah, melting ice cream, a symbol of someone who got stood up while holding ice creams or something like that,” Wooyoung laughed some more. 
“Exactly! Or paint drying, there’s nothing else to it than that, most especially if it’s on the wall, where the signs have all said wet paint, there’s no other way to explain it other than, wet paint” Jea laughed as well, seeing how his laugh made him even more handsome. 
“But you never really know, there are still so many possibilities to one situation, like so many outcomes of one challenge, there’s a chance you make it, there’s a chance you don’t, but there’s also a chance that you make it on one condition, or that you fail on one condition, and every time you go over the choices and rule one out, the chances of guessing correctly go higher” He said. 
They stopped at a bench and sat down, noticing some kids playing with their parents against the sun that was already setting further and further with the sky that got darker and darker. Jea glanced at Wooyoung, who caught her gaze. “This meeting, between us, was quite unexpected, wasn’t it?” She smiled. 
“Honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My friends, colleagues, they probably wouldn’t believe that I’ve done something like this,” Wooyoung chuckled as he thought about it. “Then again, they might not be surprised. They’d be more surprised if it was Yeosang, but not so much with me.” 
“Now you sound like you’ve done this before” Jea teased. 
He laughed loudly. “No, no, I haven’t! I really haven’t, you’re the first one I’ve become so bold on,” Wooyoung tried to keep his cool and looked up at the stars that were appearing. “I guess I just had this idea,” He looked at the horizon, then turned back to her. “Are you hungry? Let’s get something to eat.” 
They were at the nearest convenience store, bringing out hot containers of cooked ramen to the benches. Wooyoung dashed back inside the store to get their bottles of water, hurrying out again before his food got cold. The two of them tucked in once their food was a little cool enough, exchanging glances with every slurp of noodles and soup, laughing in between upon seeing how the other looked. “Funny thought,” He paused eating. “In Power Rangers, there are these colors for every person, right?” He said, and she nodded. “But even when they’re not in their ranger outfits, they’re always wearing the exact color of their ranger selves, it’s not like the audience doesn’t know they’re this ranger or that ranger.” 
“I think that just makes it easier for them to dress up when they don’t need to transform” Jea chuckled. “I mean, wouldn’t you find it easier knowing you have to dress up in your favorite color? Mixed with black or white sometimes, but mostly your favorite color?” 
“That’s true, but what if your shirt only goes well with, red pants, for example, and you’re not even the red ranger” Wooyoung mused, the two of them laughing as they went back to eating. “If you were the silver ranger, you can’t really go out in silver pants or silver shirts, could you? You’d draw way too much attention on yourself, or you’d look silly.” 
“That’s true too. But at least it’s silver instead of see-through, plastic pants” Jea grinned, and he laughed out loud, nodding. “People would just think you’re too flashy for your own good, instead of being high-fashion.” 
“There are people who go to fashion week like that, though, silver pants and all,” Wooyoung remembered an article he read. “Not many people can pull that off, I guess.” 
“It takes a certain kind of person to pull it off, a very confident one” She pointed out. Jea noticed that the corners of his mouth were a little moist from the soup, and pointed at them when he looked at her. 
“Thanks” He smiled, reaching into his bag for a packet of wet wipes to wipe his mouth, only noticing that Jea had the same thing. Wooyoung took another one out and leaned over to gently wipe the corners of her mouth as well. 
Jea was taken by surprise, but she welcomed the gesture, smiling a little when he leaned back and pulled his hand back. “Thank you too.” 
“Have you ever seen an aurora?” He suddenly asked as they resumed eating. 
“Aurora? Aurora borealis?” Jea raised a brow, and he nodded. “I haven’t, but from what I read, you can only see those when you go all the way north, or even all the way south.” 
“Really? I sometimes wonder what those are,” He said, pausing in thought. 
“It’s when the solar particles meet the magnetic field above, the magnetic field reflects the particles, giving off those blue and green lights” Jea explained. 
Wooyoung looked impressed. Now he was even more fascinated by how their conversation was going. He was amazed at how much they kept talking for this long. “You’re smart” He blurted out. 
Jea shook her head. “I just read a lot. I got curious one time and I googled it.” 
Wooyoung and Jea were at a park, holding their bottles of water as they walked off the food they ate, and stopped in front of a vendor selling potato twists. He paid for the food and handed her one that had a sausage in the middle. They continued walking. “Are you the type to think about the future a lot? Or would you rather just think of what happens now?” Jea suddenly asked him. 
“A little bit of both,” He shrugged in between bites of his food. “What about you?” 
“That’s the problem with me, I tend to think too much about what could happen in the future. Whenever I do think about the future, I just bum myself out. Whenever I think about the past, I also bum myself out,” Jea sighed, looking at her now half-finished snack. 
“Worrying about yesterday or tomorrow doesn’t seem very helpful,” Wooyoung shook his head. “Personally, we could all be more relaxed if we just thought about what’s happening now,” He glanced at her. “If we keep worrying about what would happen tomorrow, how would we be able to enjoy where we are right now? We’re just setting ourselves up for hardship.” 
Jea nodded, knowing he had a point. “It’s especially me whenever I meet someone I’m interested in, I guess. I keep thinking, ‘He might like me today, but what if he changes his feelings towards me tomorrow? what if this is just some kind of dream?’ you know?” She said softly. 
Wooyoung stared at her. “Then those kinds of guys don’t know what they want. But it’s the same with girls too.” 
“We’re all just equally messed up” Jea went back to eating the rest of her snack. They stopped at a bench again and sat down, feeling the tiredness from their long walks and the trip finally sink in. They could choose to end their conversation there, yet somehow, they didn’t want to just yet. They didn’t want it to be over and they didn’t know how to say it.
Instead they sat closer, glancing at each other and looking away every now and then whenever the other would catch them. Wooyoung turned to her, shifting slightly to face her. “Can I tell you something?” He said softly. 
Jea looked back at him. “Yeah, sure.” 
“Come closer” He said. 
Jea leaned in. “Okay” 
“Closer” He said, and captured her lips in a kiss. He pulled away, lingering as he rested his forehead on hers. “I may have wanted to do this hours ago,” He admitted. 
“Me too” Jea smiled slightly. “I’ve never met a guy like you before, like we’ve skipped the small talk and everything.” 
Wooyoung shook his head and leaned in for another kiss. “Small talk is boring anyways. Those are better saved for another time, but not today,” He leaned in for another. 
“No, definitely not today,” Jea shifted to face him and wrapped her arms around him as they kissed again. 
The sun rose, and Wooyoung and Jea woke up, having dozed off on the bench after kissing for some time. He felt his phone vibrate a few times, seeing messages from his crew members, his friends, asking where he was. “You have to leave now, huh?” She said. 
He nodded. “I have to, if I want to still have time to freshen up,” He said. “Can I kiss you again?” 
Jea nodded and he leaned in to do just that, and this time it felt as if they were trying to make the most out of the very little time they had left. The two of them got up and walked hand in hand, fingers laced together as they approached the sidewalk and the bus stop. “Do well overseas, okay?” She said. 
Wooyoung smiled. “I will. You do well in whatever you have to do too” He said. He took out his phone. “I want to see you again, just give me a way to contact you” He said. 
The bus was suddenly approaching, and Jea hurriedly typed in her number before handing his phone back. Wooyoung kissed her again, holding her close for a moment and pulling away, looking back at her as he got on the bus and at his seat. She smiled to herself, hoping that he would really contact her and ultimately knowing that a month later, he would be calling her on the way back from the airport. 
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moonice20408 · 4 years
Text
The Curious Disappearance of C. Cullen
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Word Count: 3818
Read on Ao3 Read on FF.net
“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we’re investigating the disappearance of C. Cullen, as part of our new investigation!”
“New investigation?”
“Are vampires real?”
Shane groaned. “Oh no. No no no. Absolutely not. Nope.”
Ryan let out a laugh. “What, you don’t believe in vampires?”
“No Ryan, I do not.” Shane shook his head. “And you know what, I think I might believe in them even less than ghosts!”
“Oh wow.” Ryan laughed again. “Why are vampires so much more unbelievable than ghosts?”
“Because Ryan. They’re stupid! That’s why!” He slammed his hand onto the desk with some force. “If vampires were real, we’d know about it.”
“Well what if it’s like in the movies and they’re all just living in secret?”
“Oh, c’mon. There are cameras everywhere nowadays. You don’t think we’d have caught some guy just munching on another guys neck till he drops dead at some point? Then turn into a bat and fly away.”
“Well you’d just say it was fake if we did.”
Shane paused for a second then shrugged. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”
Ryan shook his head, then faced the camera. “So, this episode of Supernatural is a going to be a little different.”
“How so Ryan?”
“Well… we’re not going anywhere. There’s no location footage this week guys.”
“Yeah, this week we just thought, ‘you know what, not feeling it.’” Shane relaxed back in his chair. “We’re gonna sit back and take it easy.”
Ryan ignored him. “The reason being, well two reasons actually. One being that, at least I figure, if they were real, vampires aren’t, err… trapped, shall we say, to one place. Therefore, if they were real, they’d still be free to leave a place. So, we’d get there-”
“And we’d be talking to no one.” Shane interrupted.
“Exactly.”
“Imagine that.” Shane continued. “Going to a supernatural hotspot, just talking to the air…”
“Would you-”
“Wouldn’t want that! Would we?” He threw his hands up in the air. Ryan just stared forward, looking into the camera with an unimpressed look. “Wouldn’t we just look dumb! Just yelling into an empty room, expecting a response.”
“Erm, excuse me, we’ve gotten plenty of responses!” Ryan defended.
“Pffft.” Shane waved his hand.
“You know what, I’m just going to continue.” Ryan said matter-of-factly.
“Please.”
“The other reason we’re staying here, is that this case is from England. And we just couldn’t find time that worked for us, as well as crew members to do a quick trip to another country.” Shane nodded with Ryan. “I did look around the location, y’know on Google, and err, it’s just a bunch of offices now, so…”
“Not as exciting as our last trip there.” Both of them shook their heads.
“Now,” Ryan straightened out the file in front of him, before looking to the camera. “I am going to admit, right off the bat…” He quickly peered to Shane. “See what I did there?”
Shane nodded.
“Vampire… Bat…”
“No, I got it Ryan. That was a good one.”
“Thank you.” Ryan smiled while Shane rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I have to admit, I, err… I’m already prepared for some… criticism, shall we say.”
“What, because vampires aren’t real?” Shane said sarcastically.
“No. Well, I guess that’s part of the debate isn’t it?”
Shane sighed and shook his head, looking straight to the camera.
Ryan continued. “What I mean is, that this is case we’re investigating, is one of the oldest cases we will have covered so far on the show.”
“Oh really? Interesting.” Shane said, genuinely intrigued. “What’s the oldest so far? Witch trials right, gotta be.”
“Err, well that’s the oldest full episode, I think. But there’s some of the ancient alien stuff we looked at-”
“Oh right, yeah.”
“But the Salem witch trials were 1690s. But the case today dates back, roughly, to the 1640s.”
“Wow. That’s pretty old Ryan.”
“Yeah, which is part of the problem. Because it’s as old as it is, the erm, documentation of it is… It’s not great.”
Shane let out a small laugh. “So, what you’re saying is, you’ve got shit.”
“No! No… It’s just we, meaning our tremendous research team, we’re usually able to get multiple accounts on stuff, and can cross reference information, you know, so we can put together a more valid case.”
“So, you’re telling me, that before the videos even started, this case has no credibility and is crumbling through your fingers as we speak?”
Ryan sighed. “Look, I feel that what we have is defiantly something. I just want to make it clear; it’s just not as backed up as our usual content. You know we try to keep it as honest as we can here. So, I figured, I’d be upfront about this, before people start yelling at me through the comments. Obviously, I’m not going to put together an episode if there’s absolutely nothing, cause that’s… that’s just telling a made-up story off the internet isn’t it?”
“Hmm,” Shane nodded. “Okay. Alright. I will reserve my judgement for the end.”
Ryan laughed. “I doubt that, but anyway, let’s get into it.
- - -
“Legends of vampires can be dated back millennia, and stories told of them are found globally. Many ancient cultures had tales centred around the nocturnal undead, reanimated corpses spreading disease to the living, or blood drinking spirits all that hold similar characteristics to the modern idea of what a vampire is.
The idea of blood drinking became very ingrained into the lore of vampires. It was once believed that the blood of a living person, contained that person’s life force, and to drink it would allow another creature to absorb that life force. Some even thought that by drinking a person’s blood, that the drinker would also gain the characteristics of that person, allowing the vampire to better disguise themselves amongst the rest of society.
The word ‘vampire’ itself only came into use in the mid-18th century, from fast spreading tales told in Transylvania, and was later further popularised due to Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula, which was published in 1897. It’s Stoker who is credited for defining the modern vampire, after combining multiple myths together for his book.
In most folklores, vampires were believed to be the revenants of evil beings, or an unrested deceased person who had committed unforgivable sins in their life, but it became a common belief that a living person themselves could become a vampire by being bitten. The belief in some parts of the world became to extensive that it led to mass hysteria, which resulted in many people being sentenced to death, usually by burning.”
- - -
“What’s interesting to me,” Shane started.
“Yeah?”
“Is just how wholeheartedly people, back in the day, believed in this stuff!”
“Yeah. I did come across something, and can I just say, the historical research in this case was very interesting… Like, go look up vampire history guys.” Ryan pointed at the camera. “But anyway, in, err, Greece I think it was, was that after three years, they would dig up dead bodies and they’d be examined.”
“To see if they’d become vampires?”
“Basically.” Ryan nodded. “And if they hadn’t decayed to standard, or whatever, then they’d be ‘dealt with accordingly’” He said, adding air quotations.
“Who decides,” Shane snickered. “Who decides what a suitable decomposition is?” They both laughed. “Were they just like, ‘hmm, no, too much meat left on ‘im’”
“‘toss him in the fire!’” Ryan added.
“‘Into the pit’,” Shane mimicked throwing something over his shoulder. “‘Bring in the next decayed body!’”
“It’s like a line at the doctor’s office.” They both chuckled.
- - -
“Now, back to the case at hand. In early the 1950s, construction workers in London were working to fix up a number of buildings that were destroyed by bombs during World War Two. In one particular location, the damage caused actually led to the discovery of a basement-like room, that had been previously built over, remaining hidden for centuries. Upon further investigation, it was determined that this room was originally part of an Anglican church that was destroyed during the Great Fire in 1666, and was never rebuild.
Inside this room, many historical artefacts were found, but some of the most interesting, at least to me, were a journal and a stack of documents, that belonged to a previous pastor of the church. It is worth noting that the year 1640 is written on the first page of this journal, but it is up for debate for how long this journal was kept. The documents that were recovered, have been since entitled the ‘Crusades of Evil’.
Unfortunately, over time a lot of the writing on these pages has become too faded to accurately read. But enough can be made out to get a good sense of what they’re about. In short, the pastor of the church would lead hunts for all manner of unholy creatures. Almost all of them resulting in the execution of people who were thought to be these creatures. These documents contain the information about the accused, which was essentially just a name and location, if that, as well as what they were accused of doing/being, and the method of execution. Most of the documents found were signed a S.C. Cullen. But, thanks to the journal that was found with these papers, we know that the man in question was named Samuel Cullen.”
- - -
 “No middle name?” Shane asked.
“Err, no this guy didn’t write his whole name. Unfortunately.”
“And am I correct in assuming that the unknown ‘C’ initial is perhaps the same as our missing person’s?”
“It is certainly believed that the initials do come from the same name, yes.”
“Interesting…” Shane paused for a moment. “You know… just to switch subjects here,” He huffed a laugh, “And I want this on record, this guy already seems like an asshole… I’m very against the whole idea of burning innocent people to death…”
“Oh good, I’m glad.” Ryan said sarcastically.
“But, I gotta say… Crusades Against Evil! Sounds like a badass movie!”
Ryan chuckled. “To be honest, when I first read that… I did think it sounded like some kind of shooter video game.”
“Oh! Like Doom! You ever play that?” He mimed holding up a gun, and pointing it around the room. “Vampires just popping up, like bangbangbangbangbang!” He ‘aimed’ at Ryan. “Kaboom.”
Ryan just raised his eye brow. “You done?”
“Yeah.” Shane sighed, smiling to himself.
- - -
“Not much is known about Samuel Cullen, other than the fact he was the church pastor during the 1630s and early 1640s at the very least, according to the papers found. And the journal that was found, was unfortunately in an even worse condition than the documents. That being said, one legible section did make reference to a son, and if you were paying attention, you’d have noticed I said most of the documents were signed by Samuel. Some however, were signed C. Cullen. Which has led many conclude that this C. Cullen was the pastor’s son. But when efforts were made to find out more about this man, researchers came up empty handed, and found almost nothing. Not even a first name.”
- - -
“Not even a name?” Shane said loudly.
“I know.”
“So I take it that it was Samuel naming his son after himself?”
“Err, yeah. At least that’s what most people think. Which, honestly, I think is a fair conclusion to make.”
Shane nodded in agreement. “That’s kind of sad, that we’ll never know this guy’s name.” Ryan hummed in agreement, and there was a brief moment of silence. “I bet it was Clive.”
Ryan laughed. “Clive?”
“I dunno man, first name I thought of.” Shane shrugged.
“You thought of Clive before, like, Christopher? A much more common name.”
“Aaa, this is an uncommon guy though, Ryan.”
Ryan shook his head, not commenting.
- - -
“As I said, Samuel seemed to be very enthusiastic about the hunts he led, given the number of documents signed by him. His son however, only seemed to have taken charge in two of these crusades. And if it is to be assumed that the documents were kept in any sort of order, then that would mean, these two accounts from the son were much further apart in time, than that of Samuel’s. It’s also worth mentioning, that C. Cullen’s papers were noticeably longer in length, even if too faded to fully read. But this does suggest the man was, perhaps, more detailed in his telling of what happened, or even maybe had more compelling evidence of what he believed to be a supernatural creature. Researches involved believe the most likely scenario is that Samuel put his son in charge of the church and of the hunts, when he was old enough, as the son’s involvement doesn’t seem to be much later. But that his son was much more hesitant at doing the job at hand. Therefore, leading Samuel to decide to take over once again, possibly to save his own or his family’s reputation.
One document in particular sparked interest, when upon further inspection, it appeared to be written by both Samuel and his son. When comparing the handwriting, it was concluded that it was mostly written by the son. Starting with what seemed to be a description on a group of people living underground. This most likely meaning the sewage system at the time. Bible verses can also be found, such as Leviticus 17:10-14, which quotes ‘And whatsoever man there be of the house of Israel, or of the strangers that sojourn among you, that eateth any manner of blood; I will even set my face against that soul that eateth blood, and will cut him off from among his people.’. But the account of the raid itself, as well as what is assumed to be the execution details, was written, and signed by Samuel. And no evidence of C. Cullen can be found after this point in time.
Which begs the question, what happened during this crusade that meant C. Cullen was unable to complete his own documentation? Was it a conscious decision to leave for good? And, what became of him?
- - -
“See,” Shane started, “I know where you’re going with that that question…”
“Yeah?”
“And I don’t like it…” He sighed.
- - -
“One theory as to why he vanished, is that it during this aforementioned raid, someone fought back against him, and he was killed in self-defence. As mentioned, this attack was written to be on a group of people. Consequently, it seems pretty likely that this group would fight back, given the chance. So perhaps C. Cullen met his match, and ultimate end in this way. Similarly, could it be that he was killed accidentally? Many historians agree that these types of hunts for supernatural beings, would have involved a large number of people. Could it be, that in amidst the chaos and disorder of the crowds, undoubtedly fuelled by fear, that C. Cullen was killed. Perhaps being trampled, or being mistaken for someone else.”
- - -
“Personally,” Ryan started, “I’m not sure I think that’s likely.”
“Of course you don’t, it’s a logical assumption.”
“Oh what, you don’t think, if we were in some crazed mob, I wouldn’t recognise you?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “And I’d just accidentally kill you cause I was so caught up in the madness?”
“Okay one, you couldn’t kill me no matter how hard you tried.” Ryan made a sound to interrupt, but Shane continued before he could. “And two, hysteria does things to people man. You’re not thinking straight.”
“I just think that the leader of this raid, would be the most recognisable person out of everyone there. I imagine they’d have had him up on a little stage while they all crowded round for instructions before they set off. They’d all of had a pretty good look at the guy, and I’m sure he’d have just been a well-known guy at the time. The trampling, or self-defence I could kinda understand, but I can’t see how someone could’ve just like, grabbed him, and I don’t know, beat him to death or whatever.”
Shane just shrugged.
“Plus, again, he’s probably the most relevant person there.” Ryan added. “So, you’d like to think someone would have noticed his death and there’d be evidence of that.”
“It’s the 1600s, Ryan! What kind of evidence do you want? It’s not like they were running round taking photos or anything.”
“Well, there could be some sort of documentation of it. Newspaper article perhaps?” Ryan suggested.
“I don’t think many newspapers would’ve survived that long… Were newspapers even a thing at this point?”
“You know, honestly I don’t know.”
“And this is the 1600s, how many people were reading?”
“Hmm…” Ryan sighed. “Okay, you got me with that one.”
- - -
“The most commonly accepted theory is that C. Cullen simply ran away. As I said, it is widely believed that he was more hesitant about conducting these crusades in the first place, so is it possible that he used the attack as a cover to escape? Many believe so. Perhaps being in charge of the crusade in question granted him more protection in the event, and perhaps he wasn’t involved in the attack at all. He was simply waiting for news on whether it was successful or not. Is it possible that he hung back, and made his escape while the crowds fought without him? And that no one realised he was gone until afterwards. That being said, some have their doubts about this. Afterall, if C. Cullen was indeed so much more humane than his father, would he really cause an attack on other people, just for his own benefit? And would he be one to watch from the side-lines, while others risked their own life?”
- - -
“Okay…” Shane said.
“What?”
“I mean, obviously, I don’t believe for a second that there were actually vampires involved in any of this… But back in the day, people did quite truly believe that they were real. So, I can’t imagine it would have been difficult to get a crowd all riled up, and then send them off. Especially if the leader of it all also truly believed in the… in the cause, I guess. And I think, that if this guy did use the attack as a cover, and if he was as good of a person as everyone thinks, then he at least thought they were really vampires.”
“That’s fair.” Ryan agreed. “And if you think about it, bible verses were only found in his accounts. So that leads me to think that he at least had like, I dunno, God in mind or whatever.”
“It’s kinda strange to, like, imagine yourself living like that. If you’re taking the bible that seriously, and know it well enough to quote like that, it’s gonna be hard, cause it has a lot of contrasting points. I mean, I can’t say I’ve read the bible, but just from what I’ve seen online. It seems like it’s a bit all over the place!”
“Oh yeah, I agree. I mean, this quote again,” Ryan shuffled through his papers, “I will even set my face against that soul that eateth blood, and will cut him off from among his people’. I can understand that perhaps that could be interpreted to mean killing vampires is okay… But then in the same book you have ‘thou shall not kill’.”
“You know Ryan, I like it when we argee on this stuff.”
Ryan laughed. “Well, we’ll see what you’re saying after this last theory.”
Shane let out a loud sign.
- - -
“I’m sure you all can guess what this final theory is. But some people actually entertain the idea that C. Cullen was correct in his quest. And that he truly found a coven of vampires living underground in London. He was attacked, and transformed into a vampire himself, and he is still out there today.”
- - -
Shane let out a long and loud groan. Leaning back on his chair, and covering his eyes with his hands.
Ryan giggled. “What, you don’t like this one?”
“No.” Shane replied in pained voice.
“Well you’ll be glad to know, neither do I.”
“Oh really. I’d of thought this one was right up your street.”
“What? You seriously think I’d believe in vampires?”
Shane shook his head. “You are so genuinely terrified of ghosts, it’s really not so outlandish to think you’d believe in anything like this.”
“No, no. I’m gonna put vampires in the same category as I put witches. I think a lot of innocent people were unnecessarily killed. And in all honestly, I think Samuel Cullen here, knew what he was doing. I think it was a case of him wanting to maintain a reputation, and as with the second theory, his son just took off and left to live an honest life somewhere.” Ryan nodded.
“I dunno…”
Ryan exaggerated a gasp. “Do you think it was vampires?” He laughed.
Shane chuckled. “Absolutely not. But I mean, I’ll put the whole vampire thing down to mass hysteria, you know, like those people in France!”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “I was so desperately trying to avoid you bringing that up.” He muttered.
“They danced till they died Ryan!” He looked to the camera. “Look it up! Anyway… Mass hysteria, plus, like I think I said this about the witches, but, general boredom can cause a lot of crazy behaviour. But with this C. Cullen guy… he probably just died. It’s not like they were medically advanced. People would get some sort of disease and the local doctor would give them cocaine or some shit. And it’s just a case of crappy documentation.”
Ryan laughed. “You don’t think he managed to get away and just move somewhere else? Probably chance his name?”
“I mean, that’s a possibility.”
“I just… I think there’s something just not sitting well with me, that this guys own father, never seems to mention a death. And that he just seemed to vanish and no one noticed.”
“Well maybe he did mention it, it’s just part of the journal that was unreadable.”
“Maybe…” Ryan said, unsatisfied.
“I guess we’ll never know…”
Ryan sighed. “I hate it when you say that.”
“I know…” Shane nodded, chuckling slightly. “I’m not gonna lose any sleep over it. It was four hundred years ago, he’s defiantly dead now anyway.”
Ryan nodded and hummed. “Well on that note!” The two laughed. “Hey, do you think if a vampire died, that it could still become a ghost?”
“Okay…” Shane stood up and walked off camera.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you!”
“It was just a question.”
Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think!
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