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orleans-jester · 3 years

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After Bastien leaves.

Longstory short: No one home; Agnes goes to the old caravan camp; gets her fortune told; drinks weird tea; has a very odd dream; goes home; Pierre is grumpy that she didn’t turn up second day of school; but she comes back on the third.

There would be no one home. Agnes had figured that much, once she remembered what day that it was. First day of school usually meant going out for dinner. That felt like something Pierre would remind their mother of, get a nice meal after what was probably a long day. Felt even longer for Agnes. She went up to her room, and sat down on the bed. It was so unfamiliar. The patterns that lined the walls were nice though. It looked nicer than all of the different things she had on her old wall. Probably for the best those got destroyed. There was no more Summer. No more River. No more dad. Barely a mother. Fig was probably on the fence. No idea if she even talked to Wulf anymore.

She’d drop her dirty bag onto the floor and would trace some of the painted lines with her fingers. The pattern of her favorite dress over this one wall. The flowers and all. It looked really really good. Until her fingers stopped when something interrupted the pattern. An acorn. Didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. She tapped against it with her index finger twice - three times. She couldn’t handle it. It was bringing on that feeling of anxiety again. She started to go through her desk, through the different drawers. The closet. Pulled down a couple of shoeboxes to keep them empty. Nothing. There was no photos, no postcards, nothing of the sort that she could use to cover it up. She didn’t even have a poster. But she did have sticky notes, so she’d cover the space with the bright yellow. It was an eyesore but it would have to do until she thought of something better.

She’d sit on her bed for a couple of minutes, eyes closed, deep breath in and then deep breath out. Trying to gain control of herself. Control of her situation. What even was her situation. What the hell was she. Where was she. How was she? And most importantly, who was she? There was still one person who might be able to tell her. Someone else she had heard stories about growing up, and had even met a couple of times.

She thought about showering first, but decided against it. She’d have one to wash off the grime, and then a long bathtub after to re-center herself. No, she’d just pick a different sweater out of her closet, this one also in a darker color, would close her bedroom door behind her like she had never been there, and would step out again, locking the door behind her, keeping a light or two on to warm off burglars, the house silent, alarm back on. The password was the same as it was at the old house to get through the gate. That made things easy for her forgetful mind.

Bastien might have denied her the long walk home, but there was another one that she could take. And it was somewhere that she felt moderately safe. Through the city, through to a small are by a graveyard where caravans had been sitting for so long, the wheels had broken from the weight and disuse, making the bulk sink down towards the ground. There was one that still had purple peeling paint. Her papa’s. But there was also one with an old woman and a little girl sitting on the front stoop, looking up at the stars.

“Madame Antoinette?” She would venture, pulling down the hood of her sweater. The old woman looked up and smiled, showing multiple missing teeth in her mouth. The little girl was looking up at her too, big blue eyes like jewels sparkling against the fire in the middle of the camp.

“Agnes,” The old woman said, pulling the little girl onto her lap and patted the empty seat. “I knew you would be coming back one of these days.”

“Of course you did,” Agnes would smile at the old fortune teller. The little girl looked nothing like the old woman. Most likely a street child that she had taken in. Was teaching the trade. “I’m feeling lost, Madame. I need guidance. I need... to know what I have to do, what I’m here to do.”

“What will you pay me?”

“I forgot to bring anything, I umm-”

“You will bring me a necklace at Abraham’s wedding. Real stone. None of that cheap shit.”

“Of course, yes, I can do that,” Agnes would nod enthusiastically.

“Or else I curse the marriage and your mother will turn into an old hag, like me.”

“That sounds only fair,” Agnes said, trying to take that seriously but it was difficult. The woman gave her the eye and then held her hand out, requesting Agnes’s. The girl who usually had soft hands due to many different expensive handcreams, gave hers over. They were rougher than usual. Her nails were full of hangnails and split skin. They hadn’t been painted in days. Her palms themselves were feeling a little rough, a little calloused from working more with them to make where they had been a home. Nevertheless, the woman didn’t give any reaction to it, just started to run her fingers through the lines in Agnes’s palms. Went over them a couple of times as if making sure of something. The only sounds were from the other caravans and the crackling fire which never went out. It was like the flame of hope for the people in this camp. It went out, they left. It’s the same fire that was burning when Kuzco and Clopin had passed through here, getting Clopin’s things before returning to the inn. They fed it and kept it safe.

She’d finally speak, her voice just enough for Agnes to hear.

“You don’t walk the line between different worlds, you weave through them. Many of them. You are a sparrow in a swallow’s nest. The moment you believe you are safe the swallows will peck you to death. You mourn for lives lost to you, but they were never your life to begin with. Restore your natural path, Miss Agnes, or it will be impossible to find it again.”

That was heavy. It gave Agnes a lot to think about. She’d sit there silently, her hand still outstretched. The old woman set it back down on Agnes’s own knee. “Sa fait réfléchir .. how about a cup of tea before you go home?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Agnes said, her mind somewhere else. Thinking about those words. Thinking about the consequences of her actions in a way that she had never thought of before.

“Jeanne, fetch the tea.” The old woman would say. The little girl climbed off of her lap and went inside, leaving just the two to feel the breeze coming through the night. “It will be a cold winter for New Orleans,” She’d add. “Harsh winds are coming our way. Don’t believe that because we are in the south, we will be safe from them.”

“I’ll buy a new coat,” Agnes said, still stuck inside of her head, those words going in one ear and out the other. She was a sparrow. The swallow’s nest had been the Laveaus. It had also been Bastien. Perhaps he had saved her by forcing her to go home tonight. Before she knew it, a chipped mug was placed into her hand. It smelled of nettles. Of late Spring rather than Summer. It was a murky brown. Leaves floated on the top.

“Drink, it will help,” The old woman urged. So Agnes did. She’d drink, and the taste would bring her back to reality. It was ... earthy. Like they literally just added water to some dirt that they found on the ground. “All of it,” The woman would say, and Agnes could not say no to that. So she’d drink it.

It tasted horrible. But she had been taught to be a proper guest. Always accept all of what you are being given. Waste not, want not. Even if it was something as horrible as this tea. She had the feeling it really was just some sort of leave picked up around the area.

The three of them would sit there and enjoy the night. That was until Agnes noticed that the fire seemed to be dancing rather than just flickering. She could hear something, some kind of music in her head. It was like a drumming sound. It matched her heart beat perfectly. She even tapped her fingers against her knee to the rhythm. The old woman was smiling again and then she seemed to disappear. Muffled noises of shouting. She stood up, feeling energetic despite the fact that she had been feeling weak the last couple of days. Her body wasn’t used to running on so little fuel. But she felt good. Sprightly.

She’d walk towards the fire, but it started to get further and further away. The cold winds that she had been warned about were reaching her now, and she’d feel that chill on her arm. She’d walk faster, swinging her arms, lifting her legs to try to get her body heat higher with exercise. It started to feel wet. It started to feel COLD. Not cool. Not even New Orleans cold. But the cold that she remembered on the balcony of the hotel in New York many Christmas’s ago. Snow even started to fall. The area around her started to white-out entirely. Mounds grew beneath her feet. Her sneakers weren’t equipped to deal with that. She was sliding around. Her energy was still up somehow, getting her going forward and forward.

Eventually she started to see something. A smudge of black. She attempted to run rather than walk, but kept slipping on the snowhills that were quickly gathering. A little house. Maybe a cabin. The door handle was right there within reach. She grabbed it. Turned it. Pushed herself inside and then closed the door against the growing blizzard that was out there. But - the inside did not look like a cabin at all. It looked like a hospital waiting room.

Patients were looking up at her. She was no doctor. She was not hurt. But something about being here felt right. She’d walk through it, up to the desk where a pretty dark girl was sitting. “Afternoon Dr. Renault, are you ready for your patients?”

“I- I’m a Doctor?” Agnes asked. She didn’t feel like one. “I’m not qualified to be called that, I-”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” The dark haired nurse would stand up. Would take Agnes’s arm and lead her down the hallway. She looked behind her to the patients who had continued on with their waiting activities. Playing on phones. Crosswords. Books. Even eating McDonalds. “Your first patient is right behind that curtain there. Better hurry, you know how long waiting times are.”

And left her side. It took until she was leaving that Agnes realized that it was the singer Ciara who had brought her here. Now that was weird. But she’d approach the curtain and would pull it to the side to see her father sitting there, looking as healthy as his old horse Achilles had in his prime. His hair was longer, his smile was brighter, his eyes were keen and glowing. “Dad!” She’d say, rushing up to him and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh my god, you’re here, you’re my first patient. Oh my god, I missed you.” She almost believed she could smell his old cologne. She hugged him enough as a little girl to know what it had smelt like.

“My little girl,” Phoebus would smile, hugging her back in return. He held her in place, it was - it was hard to back away from it. “You always used to play Doctor. Remember when I bought you that pretend kit? You’d wear that stethoscope for hours, until your ears hurt and you still wouldn’t take them off.”

Agnes laughed against her father, giving him another squeeze since he was in a huggy mood. “I remember.”

“If only you had stayed that little girl,” He sighed. “I’ll remember those times forever. But here you are instead. So special. Like ... like treasure.”

That last word had put chills up her spine. She tried to let go. She tried to back up but her father’s hold was so strong... she had to use her powers, bring up the barrier to make him back away from her, and then she realized that it hadn’t been her father at all. The smell was gone. Instead, what she faced was what looked like Chip, sounded like Chip, but that face - a massive part of it was missing, jaw exposed. Maggots. He looked of death. “Do you know what happens to treasure? It gets buried. Buried, buried, buried...”

Agnes stumbled back and closed the curtain as quickly as she could, and fell back against the ground. She could feel the pain against her ass as she did so. She backed up in a sort of crab walk, tried to get back to her feet and would try to go back the way that she came -

Only to find that the hallway had brought her to her brother’s room. The one at the old house that she could remember, since she hadn’t stepped foot into the one at the new house. So many colors. Pierre was standing there in her bathrobe, silk, short, just barely covering his bits. He had a hairbrush in his hand and was singing, dancing around. “Cause you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no,” He’d turn around, wink at Agnes over his shoulder and then would approach, taking hold of her hand while continuing to sing into the brush. He gave her a twirl. “You’re in then you’re out, you’re up then you’re down, you’re wrong when it’s right, it’s black and it’s white-”

“Pierre,” Agnes said, trying to let go of his hand but he’d throw the brush over his shoulder. It landed on the bed. He’d take her hand and put an arm around her waist like it was some sort of waltz. She was confused but - she was laughing.

“You don’t really want to stay, no! But you really don’t want to go, no, you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no,” He’d go back into the chorus, jumping around and dancing until she gave in. But then he’d give her another spin, but let go of her this time. Someone else caught her this time around.

Bastien. The longer, stringier hair was a dead giveaway. She gasped as she looked up into his face. It wasn’t dead, not like Chip. But there was a gauntness to it that there wasn’t the last time that she had seen it. He looked like illness itself. Pestilence as a person. Leper-like. “Bastien, are you okay?” She’d say, holding onto him, looking at his face, looking at those pale lips, a flash of black gums. “Please, please come with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll-”

“You think you need me. But I don’t need anybody. Even you.” Bastien said. A tongue came out of his mouth. Long. Slimy. Grey. Riddled with diseases. It licked at her face. She was forced to let go. Forced to back up again. She fell. But she didn’t hit any ground this time.

Instead, her eyes opened and she found herself in a strange bed, between the old woman that she had gone to the night before, and the little girl whose eyes were still wide open. She was facing the little girl. They looked at each other and the dream started to fade quickly from Agnes’s mind, leaving just some odd impressions that something had happened. She felt drowsy. Sunshine was coming through one of the windows. The little girl reached up and pressed her thumb almost painfully into Agnes’s forehead, causing her to groan. That didn’t feel so good.

She’d lay there for another couple of minutes, trying to get her bearings, trying to feel more awake, blinking against the light. She knew where she was. She was in Madame Antoinette’s caravan, with the little girl. She must have dozed off after the tea. Then she remembered when it was. Shit. She was definitely late for school! She’d sit up so fast, her head would hurt and she would only see black for a couple of seconds. She scooched out, looking around and found her shoes on the floor among the old woman’s and the little girls. She pulled them on, hopping around, trying to find some sort of clock but she couldn’t find anything. She thought about waking up the old woman, seeing the little girl sitting up on the bed too, but she was snoring. Out of it. “Tell her thank you, and sorry for staying?”

The little girl nodded and held up her hand and gave her a wave goodbye.

Agnes didn’t know much about sun positioning and such. But it felt like it was rather late into the day. It seemed more or less centered up in the sky, which made it - maybe noon? Something like that? Too late for school, and she was wearing her old clothes anyway. She needed that shower. That bath. If she skipped just one day, and it was just the second day, she should be alright, shouldn’t she? She hoped so. She headed in the opposite direction of Nola high, heading home instead.

Esmeralda was there. She was the only one. She didn’t say a word, just walked up to Agnes and wrapped her arms around her in a big hug, holding her close, giving her a big squeeze. Agnes hugged back, though there was some sort of deja vu feeling. There had been a lot of hugging lately with Bastien, and with Pierre, so maybe it was something like that.

“I’m home,” Agnes would say into her mother’s chest, the woman being bustier and taller than her.

“Good, my baby is right where she should be,” Esmeralda said, kissing the top of her head repeatedly.

Pierre was pissed. He rode his longboard to school early. He didn’t pick up flowers for Zero this time, just picked him up some cake from the restaurant that they were at before. But he wasn’t in a very celebratory mood this time around. Agnes wasn’t here. She had said that she would be there. Said she would come early to talk to him about what she and Bastien talked about. But she didn’t show up. He even waited outside of her classroom until the final bell rang for the first class. No show. He trudged back to his own classroom, feeling like he had smoke coming out of his ears. He was hurt again. He was disappointed. He could probably deal with her choosing Bastien over him if she had the goddamn balls to tell him. The bad mood would last through most of the day. Even at lunch, when he’d present the treat to Zero, his smiles were fake. He’d explain it to Zero. “Guess she made her choice,” He said, trying to play it off with a shrug. But goddamnit, he cared. He cared so much.

Until the period after lunch, in which he’d get a text from his mother. ‘She’s back home. Dallas loves her already.’

That just brightened him all the way up. If his last period class wasn’t the best one, Drama with Zero, then he would have run on home, skipping those classes. He had definitely brightened up though and would ride his longboard home, whistling happy. He got his sister back, he got his sister back. Course he thought it was all because of him. Cause he got through to her. No other reason than that.

The third day of school, Agnes would indeed be there, walking alongside her brother. Freshly showered. Touch of makeup. Purple turtleneck, green pleather shirt, black tights. Colorful. The way that she used to be. Every time she looked at her brother she felt some weird sense of having spoken to him in another world but that just sounded weird. Though she looked much more put together now than she did on the first day, healthier too since she had a real meal the night before and a real breakfast, not just protein bars, she still was feeling broken and hurt deep inside. She missed Bastien. She had slept in his bed the night before. She wasn’t quite ready to be alone in her own yet. But she was focused on what she hoped was the proper path that Antoinette was talking about. She might be feeling a lot of overwhelming things, but it was better to feel than to be pecked to death from entering the wrong nest.

#Agnes HC #Pierre HC

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unlimitedfateimagines · 4 years

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Cu Chulainn Alter (Berserker) + Master who’s gentle, sweet and klutzy yet intimidating

Ask: Hc for BerserCu that has a female master s/o that’s kinda small and really gentle and sweet but can sometimes seem like a klutz or frail but can also actually be v intelligent and surprisingly intimidating?

Sent by: Anon

A/N: another rewrite!! was reading it thru to correct and add in some stuff and to the anon who requested this like a year ago on my old blog, these are still some of my favourite requests i have written!! (this is like 4 pages of hcs in my google docs) thank you so much for requesting ♡ i’m slowly rewriting everything because finals are coming and so are college applications ;;v;; please be patient with me

Warnings: None

In all honesty, when he saw you as he materialized in Chaldea, he wasn’t expecting you to be as grand as everyone around; actually, far from it. With your short stature and gentle yet surprised and frail look when you summoned him, he wasn’t so sure about how this War would be.

Roughly around the first weeks he was summoned, he noticed you being very kind and sweet to almost every Servant out there, even Edmond Dantes and Jeanne Alter.

Though you did try to keep a respectable distance to a few Servants, giving them some personal space when needed. He figured he could get along with you to some extent if you were the type to be smart enough, according to him, to take note of his short answers and aloof body language to leave him alone asides from discussing missions and quests. He already has some respect, although small, for you.

He also saw you trip and bump into small stuff, like the plant at the end of the hall, when you bumped into the door frame or when you missed the last step of the stairs and slammed onto the ground face first, having Nightingale, Irisviel and Raikou immediately coming to your rescue.

But what surprised him the most, despite always seeing you being klutzy and tripping over air, was your ability to quickly assess the situation and think of many possibilities to overcome the problem which saved you and your Servants many times.

Notably in Camelot, when everyone was gathered around the Holy City for the Holy Selection, you immediately thought there was something wrong when you took note of the villagers of the East’s behaviour, how they seemed to be nervous and how the women were hunched back, as if they were cowering in fear of something. Some of them were scared of the Lion King but a good part of the villagers still go at the castle gates, despite the fear that resided within them. It was only you saw the light beam that your instincts kicked in and urged as many people as possible to get out and retreat to a safe distance from the walls, but they refused and you were pulled away by Mashu.

Cu Alter watched you as he sighed, but he immediately had his thoughts taken aback when he saw Gawain marching out and only selecting three people out of the thousands of villagers to enter the Holy City before seeing them all fall to Rhongomyniad, seeing the villager’s bodies gone when the light from the Holy Lance died.

His first reaction was to immediately pull you away from the destructive light and hold you close to him. He was surprised by his own actions and wondered why his first instinct was to try and protect you, a stronger instinct and feeling that was more than a simple “She is my Master.”

He still remains indifferent but starts to acknowledge your skills and that you were more than a klutzy Master who bumps into walls and door frames with your head buried in documents and a tablet.

That being said, he also started being protective. He’ll do little things like subtly wrap around his tail around your waist in a manner of not hurting you with its spikes or tower behind you, glaring daggers at the enemy.

After seeing you stand up for your own, eyes glinting with determination and igniting with fire, against the many Servants of each Singularity who looked down on you, he then actually started to become interested in you. Of course, he would never go out and admit it.

He still keeps his protective demeanor with you, simply towering the enemy with his height and his intimidating glare, a tight grip around Gae Bolg. Although he doesn’t wrap his tail around you in public as much as before, he loves and does it all the time in private. When sleeping, he likes to wrap his tail around you and hold you close, snuggling in his chest.

He’s glad that you’re intelligent and intimidating sometimes. He always has a little smirk when you glare daggers at the enemy; the latter scared that a person with such a small stature would scare their wits off and possibly pee in their pants while they’re at it.

“Oh? Are you underestimating your opponent?” you ask, looking up at the fat man with a death glare. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know. Who knows what I might do? I certainly may not be the best Master out there, but you should be careful of what humans are capable of when they’re determined and have their eyes set on something; they’ll manage to get ahold of their desires no matter what.”

He’s so proud of you every time you scare the living life out of someone.

He also gives you head pats. They’re discreet when you two are together on a quest, sometimes he’ll call you to fall back behind and give you a head pat and ruffle your hair affectionately, getting small giggles from your soft and plump lips.

He’ll rather give Gae Bolg to his Caster self than to admit this, but he does get a bit jealous when you have that gentle gaze every time you’re speaking to other Servants and being sweet; he adores your gentle and sweet side. The way how you would look at him so tenderly when you both are alone or hearing your voice, sweet as honey, whenever you would do the talk most of the time. He loves them all. There’s always a tinge in his heart when you talk to other Servants in the same way.

On this thought, he doesn’t entirely like Mash. He thinks of her more of an annoyance sometimes because of how she’s clingy towards you and how she’s constantly there. When he gets too annoyed with her blabbering, he simply whisks you away from her with something amongst the lines of “[Y/N] has something urgent to do for now. Please excuse us.”

And your laugh. He loves your laugh so much. The way how your shoulders and your back gently slouch and the happy glint in your eyes always makes his day even better. He also loves to pull some strands of your hair back behind your ear.

All of what he thought of you before like how you were just a klutzy Master? That doesn’t exist anymore. He loves you. With your frail appearance, you often get judged by other Servants, especially when battling them in a Singularity. Before you could even budge, he protectively wraps his tail around you, not caring what anyone says, and glares at your enemy.

Of course, he’ll never admit it, but he likes it when you take his hood and put it on. It’s so big and it hides half of your face. He likes lifting it up and kiss you, liking your surprised and flustered expression after, a cocky grin on his face.

Despite his constant stoic and cold expression, he genuinely loves you. He simply prefers expressing his love more in private than public because he finds it a pain when everyone freaks out when two people get together and doesn’t feel like exposing his own private life with the rest of the Servants in Chaldea.

#fate grand order #cu chulainn #cu alter #cu chulainn alter #fate series #fgo #berserker alter #fate stay night #e pluribus unum #fate imagines #fate zero #fate apocrypha #headcanons #tiane's writing #mod tiane #bersercu #berserker #i remember rly rly loving these headcanons while writing them sobs #cu alter pls come home i'm begging you

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risottostitties · 4 years

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Hi! First time here to ask haha! Any HCs for La squadra with an Otaku s/o? Like she watches anime and even buys merch in secret cuz she's scared they might find her hobby lame and immature? (Also,what will be their fave anime? And genre?)

Oh boy let me tell you I have some THOUGHTS about these boys and their taste in anime

La Squadra with an Otaku s/o

Risotto

at first he’s gonna be kinda confused, not gonna lie. Growing up the only ‘anime’ he knew was like, Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z but at that point he was too old to really get into Pokemon, and he never considered DBZ anime because it aired next to cartoons and stuff.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t appreciate s/o and their good taste. He’s the kind of guy who wants to learn about what interests the people he loves, and he loves you. So he’d honestly enjoy late nights spent binge watching your favorites.

Comes to realize that DBZ was low key his gym goals for the early years of him working out. If you bought him a ‘Swole like Goku’ tank he’d probably wear it to lift in, ngl.

Knowing your favorites he’d probably look to merch for his go to birthday or Christmas gifts. Considering the hobbies and interests of some of his co-workers, a scantily clad waifu figure is honestly a welcome change of pace.

Depending on the style or aesthetic of the anime (ie, is it goth) he would be down to couples cosplay, although he wouldn’t be comfortable with you posting pictures of his face or any identifiable features of him online

His fave is probably the original Dragon Ball Run, followed very closely by DBZ for the nostalgia bit. Something deep like Full Metal Alchemist (Brotherhood and the original) would also appeal to him

Is also a big fan of Beserk, disappointed by the anime. And Vinland Saga, not disappointed by the anime.

Partial to Princess Mononoke as well. He likes some Ghibli films, isn’t afraid to admit it. Thinks the score for Spirited Away is bomb af.

Prosciutto

Prosciutto doesn’t really get it at first either. Honestly? He probably didn’t know the difference between cartoon and anime until you explained it to him.

Unlike Risotto he might be a bit more judgey if you try to get him to watch some with you. So you gotta hit him with the real classics.

But similarly to Risotto, he at least makes an effort to try and indulge in the things you like. He might not be as patient, but he tries.

Probably wouldn’t do cosplay himself, but would hunt down exclusive seasonal merch to gift you. He’d take careful stock of your collections and do some research to pick out only the finest figurines and posters for you.

Would buy that hella expensive premium bandai apparel for you too, might even pick something subtle up for himself if he really liked the show it came from.

Also back on the cosplay note, if you agreed he’d find the highest quality cosplay possible and have you model some of his favorites for him.

(In particular if you were comfortable in fem clothing, Faye Valentine gets him going)

He loves Cowboy Beebop. 100%, wants to watch it again as soon as it ends. Everything from the characters to the story to the music and the fliud animation that has aged like fine wine appeals to him. Prosciutto is a man who likes the finer things in life. He oozes class. Cowboy Beebop oozes class and prestige.

Also likes Maasaki Yuasa. It was his idea to go see The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl in theaters.

In general his tastes tend to lean towards arthouse type anime or bona fide classics.

Pesci

Pesci knows anime and has been doing his absolute best to keep it a secret from the rest of the gang because they already tease him enough.

He’s one of those secret weebs, you gotta know where to look. Your best bet is to look at his accessories. Is there a watch with a certain symbol from an anime you recognize? A lanyard with a familiar print? Something subtle that isn’t immediately noticed by people not looking for it.

He has a secret box in his room full of blue rays from his faves. He watches them sometimes when he’s home alone. There’s nothing X rated in there obviously, he just doesn’t want people to know.

Thank god he has you.

The two of you probably bonded pretty fast over your mutual love of anime. Hell, you being such an open and proud Otaku probably gave him a bit of confidence in expressing his interests too.

Yall are the weeb couple. Yall definitely go to conventions together. Couples Cosplays, the whole thing.

He’s a sucker for Shonen just as much as he is for the really good heart wrenching painful ones.

He watches Boruto because he loves Naruto so much.

He would also tear up at Clannad.

Dango Daikazoku triggers almost a pavlovian response of heart ache.

So does Secret Base.

Ano Hana is probably his favorite, although even you’d need to pry it out of him. Its one thing that Prosciutto gives him shit for liking anime, its a whole different ball game if he found out Pesci liked girly anime

Fromaggio

He knows what hentai is. That’s about as far as his knowledge went before yall got together.

He thinks its pretty interesting though, so he’d be down to watch some with you.

Turns out he really likes action shonen. He got really, really into One Piece. Like, instantly. He likes the fact there’s so much to watch/read before he’s caught up too.

Another boy that would couples cosplay and be really into it. Especially if it continued into the bedroom.

He’s pretty go with the flow, so he isn’t picky about what y’all watch. Even if it isn’t his cup of tea he’ll sit through a few episodes on a night with you.

Fromaggio can’t tell the difference between a high quality figure and a shitty one. Its a crap shoot what he buys for you. Its more a process of ‘oh, so likes this character’ rather than checking the seams and paint quality and how dynamic the pose is/interchangeable parts.

Definitely buys way too much in the dealers room because of this.

He tries his best.

His fave is probably One Piece, liked bleach a lot but never read the manga, Yu Yu Hakusho is another one he really enjoyed. The Dark Tournament arc had him at the edge of his seat and hype as shit.

Illuso

Had a passing knowledge of anime before dating you. Knew what it was, saw a few of the mainstream ones, thought they were enjoyable, moved on with his life.

Your dedicated interest in anime would surprise him at first, because he always figured it was kind of a niche thing.

Would snoop around your collection of manga/figures/plushes in the mirror world while you sleep.

Winds up reading a lot of your manga like that (he’s good at reading in reverse because of his stand)

He finds he appreciates the art style of 80s-90s manga a lot more than he does the modern stuff. He really got into Ranma 1/2 and thinks Rumiko Takahashi’s artstyle is excellent.

If you asked him to watch Inuyasha with you he wouldn’t say no.

Probably wouldn’t want to do couples cosplay, but he definitely has an appreciation for you in cosplay.

You could talk him into going to a con if you caught him in the right mood. It’d be a hard sell though.

Has a surprising enjoyment for J-Rock.

Inuyasha is high on his favorites list, as is Ranma 1/2. Also a fan of Ghibli movies although its pulling teeth to get him to admit it.

Melone

This man has watched so much hentai in his life.

He probably actually knows them by title honestly.

He enjoys anime too, and is not ashamed unlike Pesci. Everyone already knows he has unconventional tastes there is nothing to hide here.

Melone enjoys traditionally feminine anime, especially Sailor Moon. That one has a special place in his heart as he has memories of his sister watching it with him when he was much younger.

Its more of a decompress thing than anything else, so he doesn't tend to favor heavy anime with dense plot and more mature subject matter.

He likes Maid Costumes. On you, on him, it doesn’t matter.

Doesn’t know a whole lot about merch and what makes something higher quality but he learns fast. Between you and him the Dealers Room at cons won’t know what hit them.

Is the type to preorder a figure he knows you’d like. And maybe one for him.

Buy him this and he’s putty in your hands for a month straight (SFW don’t worry) https://www.amazon.com/Bandai-Sailor-Moonlight-Memory-Locket/dp/B00UA9XB48

Sailor Moon is his favorite as I’ve said before, his favorite sailor scout is Rei. Is also a fan of Ano Hana, Violet Evergarden, and Toradora although he needs to be in the right mood to watch them.

Ghiaccio

He went down the Fate rabbit hole and we haven’t seen him since.

The gender bending grates as his soul but he is addicted regardless. There’s just so much dense lore that he can’t seem to stop going.

But also seeing how much care and attention is paid to the historical background of a lot of the servants is intriguing to him. Its the perfect blend of accurate and harem trash that infuriates him but also leaves him needing to know more.

He hasn’t played every game but he has Grand Order on his phone and has sunk an ungodly amount of money into the gacha trying to get his favorite (Its Jeanne Alter, in case anyone was wondering) and has seen all the anime (His favorite is the cooking spin off because its surprisingly calming to watch)

Fate Zero is probably his favorite ‘serious’ Fate adaptation. He enjoys the gravitas of the Holy Grail Wars (and hates how it was tossed out the fucking window in UBW/Stay Night/Heavens Feel) and the ritual aspect to the summoning and foreshadowing of future events as well as hints at a deeper magical lore in the universe hit all the right spots in his lizard brain.

The fact every fate anime has a different version of Saber (or a Saber Clone) pisses him off too.

He really loves Fate. And will scream about it for hours at you.

Getting him to watch or talk about anything else is like pulling teeth but he eventually relents because he loves you.

Its difficult to get through a single episode without him grumbling about something or another, but he tries once he sees its important to you. He does his best not to outright insult your favorite anime.

Can appreciate high quality merch as well, probably collects Jalter Figures himself.

If you’re comfortable in fem clothing, Cosplay Jalter for him and he will literally ascend then and there. Keeps pics on his phone. Would probably make it his background. He’s weak

Outside of Fate he finds he enjoys high fantasy shows. Historical fantasy pisses him off too much, and straight up historical drama would also have him grasping for inaccuracies.

Full Metal Alchemist is a non-fate series that he really loves because of the world building. The movie Maquia was one he enjoyed as well. Likes every Miyazaki film, don’t tell anyone. Cried (and raged) when Ushio died in Clannad.

In general he just likes really good world building. It has to be good otherwise he’s going to spend the whole time picking it apart.

#risotto nero #melone #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #illuso #fromaggio #jjba #jjba headcanons #la squadra #not sfw #just in case #la sqaudra #la squadra x reader #x reader #jjba writing blog

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poignantpulchritude · 4 years

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Silly Pleasures-Chapter 6

*Thanks to everyone reading along so far! I’ll be back to posting more frequently, I got into a bit of a slump once work started up again. But we back BABY!!!!*

I was deep into an article detailing the life of executioners in 17th century France, when I felt eyes staring in my direction. I looked up from my laptop to see a boy, possibly around 18, quickly look towards the window of the library. It was all too quick for it to be a coincidence.

Once my gaze drifted back down to my computer, I felt the eyes return to me. I tried to ignore the feeling, but eventually it became too much. I felt my neck heat up in a blush, my armpits started to sweat under my white sweatshirt, and I could no longer focus on the words I was reading. The letters blurred into a gray mass on the page.

My phoned beeped next to my hand, making me jump out of my panicked state. I took a deep breath in to calm my nerves before looking down. Despite the immediate increase in heart rate as I glanced at the name, I felt a small smile creep onto my face.

Harry had texted me periodically since our night out for drinks a week ago. He was not the best at texting and most of the messages consisted of random dad jokes sent impulsively. I also could not deny that each time I saw his contact, I blushed and tucked my phone away as if I was harboring a deep secret.

In some ways, though, Harry was my deep secret. While our friendship was still in its early stages, I developed a sort of possessiveness over him. After hearing about our semi-date, I was brutally interrogated by Rosie, Amber, and Keith. They wanted to know whether or not some of his past relationships where publicity stunts, if Larry was real, and if he secretly hated all One Direction songs. Instead of obliging their twisted questioning, I simply told them that he smelled good and remembered my drink order. I did not share that there were whispers and the slight brush of hands. That was for me.

Instead of a knock-knock joke under his name, Harry sent me an invitation to a party that night.

Technically, today was a day off for me. I gave myself an early weekend because of a steady string of private chats over the past few nights. My research for my dissertation was far ahead of half of the other students, too. I had no excuse to decline his offer.

What time and where?

Hours later, I was sat in the living room of Alexa Chung. It all felt quite absurd.

When I informed Molly of my plans for the night, she gave me a knowing smirk. “Oh, my god, you are going to fuck him, this is incredible.”  “Stop, you don’t know that at all. He’s giving me very friendly vibes, maybe he just wants another friend that has impulsive tattoos?” I offered up. This was far from a date in my eyes. Not only was Harry not picking me up, he was not meeting me anywhere before, instead choosing to let me show up outside a very swanky flat at 8 that night, alone.

A man I did not know opened the door when I arrived. I did not really know what to do or say. Harry did not tell me who’s house this was, just the time and location.

“Um, hi. I’m here for the party,” I said, with an odd grimace on my face that I attempted to make look like a confident smile.

He smiled back, similarly confused, but said, “Uh, certainly. Come in, come in, it’s a bit nippy out there.” I blushed deeply as he stuttered and coughed at the end of his sentence. “Well, it’s a bit cold I mean.” He walked ahead of me, further into the luxurious flat as I tried to discretely rub my boobs so my nipples could warm slightly and not be so obviously erect. That did not help much put instead encouraged them to raise further. I groaned and hugged my open jacket tightly across my body. I’m positive I looked ill.

When we finally arrived at the end of the long hallway to a large living area, I noticed the long table filled with bread, tomatoes, and pasta. My mouth watered at the sheer amount of Italian food and at the copious bottles of wine. In those moments, I decided I would just sit at the table for the entire evening, hiding behind the bruschetta and creating a barrier of wine so no one would see my face. Clearly, Harry had other ideas.

“Jeanne, you made it!” He yelled across the room, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women. I gave a shy wave as he left the group to give me a hug. I felt the glares from the other girls immediately.

“Hi Harry. Nice of you to inform me of the dress code and the fact that it was a dinner party,” I complained through a tight smile. He rolled his eyes playfully at my words.

“There is no dress code, this is their casual attire, trust me. And besides, it’s mostly a drinking party with a bit of bread involved.” If I had known I would have been sitting around men and women decked out in brown leather, stilettos, and silk scarves I definitely would not have decided to go bra-less in a white shirt and jeans. My desire to have every event be casual got the best of me once again. “C’mon, lemme introduce you to some people,” he spoke as he led me around the room, hand on my low back like days before.

So that was how we arrived at the absurdity of sitting in Alexa Chung’s living room. She was chatting animatedly on the light couch in front of me as I sat facing her on her wood floor, sitting on a pillow and leaning back on the coffee table. Harry was correct that much of the food was left at the way side, which meant that I would happily be able to sneak plates of it home.

“Have you ever been to Paris, Jeanne?” Alexa asked. I downed the rest of the red wine in my glass before answering.

“Nope, but I’ve been to Nice. That’s where my dad’s family is from.”

“Wait, you’re French?” A girl, who’s name the wine haze helped me forget, asked quickly.

“Yup, only half though.”

“Hmmm, interesting.”

I was a bit confused by the way she responded. There was a tone to her words that seemed almost disappointed.

“What?” I asked, “Is a rivalry between the British and French coming to a head right now?” I attempted to joke.

“Oh no, sorry I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just…well…Harry’s last girlfriend was French.” Before I could ask her what she meant by that, I felt a body land heavily next to mine on the floor.

“So, what’s the hot gos here ladies?” Harry slurred.

“Just talking about your dating history dear Harry,” Alexa teased.

If Harry was uncomfortable by the topic, he didn’t show it, especially with how drunk he was. By his behavior, tonight clearly was not meant to be a date. I spent most of it talking to people that happened to sit on the couch I was in front of, while I drank my wine. Harry popped in a bit now and then, but it seemed like he was deep in conversations with everyone except me at the party. It was fine.

“Wouldn’t everyone fucking like to know all about that,” he responded, picking up the bottle of wine on the coffee table behind us and putting it up to his lips.

“Hey, that’s gross,” I grumbled at him, pulling the bottle away and clutching it to my chest.

“You’re gross.” 

“You have no idea.”

Harry laughed at my words and I saw some light go back into his eyes. He did not look very lively, but distracted or clouded.

“So anyway Jeanne, you absolutely have to go to Paris and to this one shop…” Alexa continued on and I nodded and smiled when appropriate, but was focused mainly on Harry’s body heat beside me. He was almost oppressively warm, no doubt from his running around the party and his alcohol consumption. Each word Alexa spoke had Harry leaning closer and closer towards my left shoulder. He smelled uniquely floral, a departure from his husky cologne days before.

Before I knew it, Alexa and her friend were no longer speaking to me. Instead, they were engaged in a heated conversation about politics with the self-proclaimed son of an Earl. I could feel Harry’s eyes burning a whole into the side of my face. I decided to blurt something out to diffuse any one-sided sexual tension I was feeling.

“You don’t seem happy.”

Harry pulled his head back in confusion and shook it back and forth, his hair not as mobile as years past. “What do you mean?” he asked, light and confused. It seemed put on for my benefit.

I shrugged. “I don’t know, you look a bit down. Maybe it’s because I’ve never seen you drunk,” I told him. Though I left out that his sad looks probably had nothing to do with his drinking, remembering stolen images of him on the internet drunk and smiley with friends. I could tell his behavior was odd.

“Well no. I’ve been talking to everyone here tonight!”

“Talking to lots of people doesn’t mean you are incapable of being sad, Harry.”

“Why do we only interact when we are drunk?”

“You are the one that has invited me to two events that were based solely on drinking. And don’t try to change the conversation on me, I’m a scholar, you need to do better than that.”

“Well here’s one, why don’t you invite me anywhere?”

I was too flustered at this question to attempt to sway him back to our conversational starting point. “Uh, I’ve invited you somewhere.”  “Bullshit! I’m not blackout drunk, I still have my memory,” Harry said, humor thickly lacing his voice.

“I…I uh, well I’ll invite you somewhere now.” Harry waited patiently. Ideas rattled around in my head of places to take Harry that would not absolutely bore him out of his mind. “I’m going to the Victoria and Albert Museum Monday afternoon.”

He just stared at me. “And…” he responded in an exaggerated manner.

“And…I would like you to come with me. I haven’t been yet and they were your royals previously.”

“Why thank you Jeannie, I would love to.” He made a big show out of his response, bowing his head and picking up my hand to kiss delicately. I whipped my hand back, faux annoyed but secretly giddy. Harry’s laughter traveled across the room at him antics. “I haven’t been to a museum in ages.”

I began to question him as to why, but realized that he was actually someone incredibly famous. I immediately felt terrible, realizing that Harry would be unable to enjoy the outing because of his recognizable face. “Oh jeez, never mind. I didn’t even think about people recognizing you.”

“No, no, I want to go. I’m not hounded as much as I was with the band. Besides, I’m not sure how many fans will be at a museum named for royals on a Monday unless they are with a school group. It will be fine.” The smile Harry had on his face was genuine and it made me feel happy inside, not because it was directed at me, but because it made him look better. The clouds behind his eyes were not as heavy.

“Are you really okay?” I asked him one last time.

He looked me in the eye and remained silent for a good twenty seconds. I was not sure he was going to respond at all, but then he nodded slightly. “Yea, I’m feeling okay. We put the finishing touches on the album today and it just brought back some feelings, that’s all.” Suddenly, it made sense. Feelings of his ex-girlfriend. “Some of her friends are here,” he admitted. The heavy drinking finally made sense.

“How long ago did you break up?”

“Oh, a long while ago to be honest. But, it’s a bit difficult to be reminded of it so frequently. I was pretty isolated for a while so it’s weird being around it all again.”

I remained silent, letting his words sink in. I never had a long-term relationship. The longest was about four months, that ended in infidelity. I did not know what it was like to be emotionally and physically connected to someone for months or years and then to have that ripped away. “I don’t know what to say. I’m shit at relationships.” 

Harry shook his head, “You don’t need to say anything, that’s all well and done. Just need to do a bit of growth again, don’t want this to set me back and put me in a funk.” After he said this, Harry’s eyes traveled to the wall in front of us, inspecting the colorful paintings on the wall. I could tell he was being introspective, thinking too deeply in his intoxicated state.

The first bars of Just Like Heaven began to play through the speakers. My ears immediately perked up and I shook Harry’s shoulders. He looked over at me lethargically, a bit like a confused puppy dog. I jumped up on my feet, only wobbling slightly as I pulled Harry up too. I dragged him to the center of the room and started flailing around to the words. “I love this song!” I yelled at him, jolting a few of the bodies around us.

Finally shaken from his reverie, Harry started bobbing his head and moving his limbs in an awkwardly hilarious fashion. Soon, we were dancing erratically to the beat, stomping on the floor and twirling around in circles. I felt like I was in kindergarten again, running around the playground playing tag with the boy I had a crush on. Those around us joined in and soon Alexa Chung’s flat was filled with moderately intoxicated people dancing to 80’s pop-punk.

“Show me how you do it, and I’ll promise you, I’ll promise that I’ll run away with you,” Harry and I sang in unison, loud and smiling. I was not embarrassed or nervous at the lyrical implications of the song, I was just jamming out with a friend. It was at this point that I genuinely felt that Harry had become a friend. We danced the most aggressively in a crowded room without a care in the world.

“Hey Jeanne!” Harry yelled over the music, “You’re just like a dream!” I laughed loudly at his repetition of the lyrics. I even gave a little bow. We giggled around the room and I felt the lightest I had in a while. I did not notice until later that night that Harry’s eyes looked the brightest I’ve ever seen right when he sang to me, “You’re just like heaven.”

#harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #silly pleasures #one direction fanfiction #one direction #fan fiction #fluff #watermelon sugar #fine line

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seven-oomen · 4 years

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Ranch Lune Argentée | Chapter one

As a special little birthday treat to everyone who follows me on here, I will post this chapter here and I will probably update Once upon a time when I wake up in 8 hours or so. I’ve hit a point in both chapters that I can put both of these up for my birthday celebration. Once I finished this outlaw au I will start writing the Chris/Noah/Peter one unless this one doesn’t do well. I might start writing that one first. But for now, Enjoy and let me know if you enjoy this!

“Christopher, dinner’s ready!” He wiped the sweat of his brow and looked up to where his lovely wife was calling out to him from the homestead.

All-day long he’d been putting down more of the fence surrounding their land, expanding upon ranch lune argentée, and it showed. He was sweaty, dirty, and slightly sunburned from the hard work. But it would pay off in the end, it always did.

He stored the wooden beams underneath the canvas tarp that he kept around to keep them dry and headed over to the house, making sure to stop by the water basin to clean himself up before he went inside.

“Smells lovely, darling.” He pressed a kiss to Victoria’s cheek as he walked past her and took a seat at the dinner table.

They had a decent life together, him and Vic. And a large part of that was because of her cunning mind and his family’s ranch. They had all they needed and with Victoria’s insights and investments they even had some spared for the future ahead. His father had called her a downright mastermind. He was inclined to agree.

“Thank you, dear, I see you managed to clean yourself up a little. Good. Wouldn’t do for you to smell like a pig at the dinner table.” Victoria said sharply, though he noticed the way her lips curled up just a little. Indicating her amusement.

“I’m glad to see you find my suffering amusing, darling.” He smiled, patiently waiting for her to help herself to the chicken and potato roast before making himself a plate.

“As if I don’t suffer every day with your little ideas and schemes. I told you to let the fences stay put. We don’t have enough farmhands to handle the daily chores right now, let alone to expand the ranch. But you don’t listen to me, now do you?” Victoria sighed, she was a tough woman, his wife. And she wouldn’t ever let him forget it.

Not that he wanted her to, he quite enjoyed her banter. “It’s going to pay off in the end, we’ll get more horses, more cows, a couple of chickens, geese, and sheep. We can really make something of this place.”

“Gonna have to get the hands first, don’t we? Or did you plan to get all that done by your lonesome?” She gave him a pointed look and dug into her food. “Never listens, heaven forbid.”

“I’ve been doing alright, so far. Made great progress.” He said, quieting down when he saw his wife’s glare. He dug back into his food with a soft, “Yes darling.”

Dinner went by in a quiet affair until he heard his wife get up whilst he was in the middle of assaulting his vegetables. She must have seen the way he pushed his carrots around his plate and how he hung his head. For he heard her sigh, pulling his chair back a little so she could sit on his lap and cup his face with her hand. “It’s not a terrible idea for the long run but for now it’s not what we need. We should focus on what we have and running that well before we expand. Get some more farmhands for the land too. It’s tough living already.”

He tilted his head back a little so he could look upon her fair complexion. Her stunning blue eyes stern but kind and her beautiful strong features framed by her short, flaming red hair gave her a stunning appearance that put fear in the hearts of all men. It was unusual for a woman to cut her hair that short in these times, but he quite liked it that way and there was no man or woman alive that dared to confront Victoria on anything. Let alone her wardrobe or hair choices. Not unless you had no wishes left for life.

“Why do you have to be so wise and reasonable?” He wondered what he would ever do without her, most likely he wouldn’t survive a single season. She kept him on the straight and narrow after all.

“Because one of us has to be.” She smiled, warm and loving before capturing his lips in a kiss. He hummed appreciatively and leaned into her, pulling her closer so he could roam his hands over her hidden muscles. She was a strong woman, both in mind and body. But she was also soft and sweet in his arms and melted into his touch.

He deepened their kiss, growling playfully as she nipped at his lips and moved her hand down his chest, over his abdomen, and slipped it into the waistband of his pants.

A heavy knock on the front door made her still her hand. His growl turning from playful to frustrated. “Goddammit… Think they’ll go away?”

Another hard knock answered that question. Vic slowly pulled her hand from him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Better go see what they want before they break down that door.”

She stood up, went to the front door, and opened it just as he made himself presentable. A surprised “Gerard? Kate?” Sounded from the doorway and Vic beckoned him over.

He walked over, wrapping an arm around Victoria’s shoulders as he stood beside her. His father and sister stood on the other side of the door, some men behind them who were holding ropes tightly in their hands. “What’s going on? Who did you get?”

His father didn’t visit much, only when he caught another supernatural being that needed to be disposed of. That’s why he’d build the ranch originally. As a cover for what his family naturally did anyway for the last 120 years. Marie-Jeanne may have started their profession but his father was dead set on finishing it.

“One of the originals.” His father smiled, “A true-born, trying to escape the trap we laid for them. There’s a few more out there who escaped capture for now, but we’ll get them.”

“You bastard!” The beast snarled, half transformed due to the mistletoe oil-soaked ropes, “You murdered them! All of them including children! I’ll make you pay. I swear my vengeance will be sweet when I am freed.”

The beast’s words shocked him and as he glanced at his wife he could see her wide eyes and grim expression as well. The code forbids them from murdering the innocent, children, humans in a pack. We only hunt those that hunt us. And if his father and sister broke that code… The tribunal would not be merciful.

“What does that mean? Father, what did you do?” He met his father’s eyes in a long, hard stare, jaws set and eyes battling for dominance.

“What had to be done to exterminate them. We’ll get the last little ones too, don’t you worry.” Gerard gave his son and his daughter-in-law a hard stare before he acknowledged Victoria. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, sweetheart.”

He turned to the hunters behind him. “Lock it in the barn cage, I want him to watch as we hunt down his last family and kill them.”

Chris looked at his wife in shock, though he noticed she was thinking thoroughly about something. Judging by the little crow's feet in the corner of her eyes and the way her brows furrowed. She gave him the tiniest of nods after a moment or two and looked back to his father. “When you capture the little ones, bring them to me first. As Matriarch, I decide what shall be done.”

The other hunters paused and waited for his father and wife to come to a decision. They may listen to his father as the oldest living Argent, but his wife wasn’t wrong. She was the Argent Matriarch through marriage, after his mother had died two years prior, command of the Argent hunters had naturally gone to Victoria.

He saw the anger in his father’s eyes, the knowledge that he couldn’t openly defy Victoria or risk a tribunal for ignoring the chain of command. Though he did wonder what his wife’s game plan was here, his father had just openly admitted to breaking the code.

“Fine. We’ll bring them to you first.” His father finally conceded, knowing a losing battle when he was faced with one. He nodded to the beast they captured. “What about this one?”

“The cage in the barn will be sufficient to hold him,” Victoria said, sharing a brief look with him that said; We need to find out what happened to the wolf.

The hunters obliged, putting the snarling beast in the barn’s special cage before cutting him free of his ropes. Once the mistletoe wore off, the beast’s features changed back to those of a handsome young man. His brown hair was slightly singed and his soft curls a tangled mess. His eyes changed from Alpha red to stunning blue, certain anger and sadness apparent in them. What had they done to this young man and what had this man done to deserve his father’s treatment? Who had he killed?

His father then turned to Victoria, his eyes betraying the internal anger he felt but his expression and tone were pleasant enough. “This to your satisfaction, my dear?”

“It is. Thank you.” Victoria led them out, leaving him alone with the man in the cage.

#creativity he wrote #petopheria #petopheria outlaw au #outlaw au #petopher #teen wolf fanfiction #ben writes fanfiction

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its-percival-not-percy · 5 years

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Whumptober Day 11

Cherik, actually. I’ll post the other stories here soon, since I started uploading on ao3 I start to feel a chaos and ... yeah. So, be patient with me. Whumptober Day 11 - stitches. Erik doesn’t have the best memories concerning needles.

"Erik! This is nonsense, come on!"

Because Raven died, Jeanne is gone, he failed, he lost them, couldn't protect either of them. He is impatient, nervous. Pissed. Worried. Worried as hell. And Erik is not reasonable. He knows he has his boundaries, but the helmet is gone, he can feel him being in pain. He is also not blind, the blood is also visible on the shirt as a wet stain. On Erik's hands and he really, really badly wants to ust knock him out and make Hank look at this, but no, of course he won't do that. But Jeanne hit Erik with… something and it's a miracle that Erik is still on his feet somehow, pure stubbornness keeping him upright.

"I can fend for myself - care for your students, Charles, I am not one of them!"

"Yes, I know, because the are reasonable, I can talk to them if they're doing something stupid Also, they really know when they're bleeding out, Erik!"

"Charles, I am not bleeding out, it's a scratch and-" Whatever he wants to say next gets cut off as Adrenalin, stubbornness or whatever else kept him upright this long leaves abruptly and his posture falters. His shoulders slumping and he has to steady himself against the wall, sitting down on the stones of the broken building a second later.

Charles swallow a comment as a wave washes over him. Erik isn’t stubborn. He is scared. He doesn’t know if this is worse, but he wheels himself closer.

"I-" He corrects himself immediately. "We, we just lost Raven. Jeanne. Please, don't make me lose you too. I know… I can feel that you are scared…" He wants to grab the hand that Erik is not currently pressing to his side, but he doesn't, catching himself as the thought crosses his mind. The next moment he is not sure if it is his own.

"I don't have to look into your head, Erik. I can feel your pain without, I can see it. Let me… Just please, let us help. I won't make you do anything. But you're hurt and…" There is a silent I love you on his lips and he let's it stay there. It was too long ago. Erik had had a family in between, a life. It had been years since they even saw each other. He couldn't expect anything now. Not after all that happened, happened today. The are both hurt, tired, he can't bring him into this situation now.

He hopes but doesn't expect the look of silent defeat on Erik's face and just nods. It's difficult for him to admit, and he knows from before that he doesn't deal well with being hurt. Worse than- no.

He calls Hank over who gently lifts the shirt while Erik looks away, stiff as a wooden board he sits there on the stones, eyes open but far away.

"I need to stitch this up and get a look at it properly, preferably in the manson. I'll give you something for the pain and-"

"I'm fine. Save it for the others. Just put a bandage on it and I'll be fine." Charles groans and Hank shoots him a look.

"No way. This is serious - I'm serious. You can bleed out from this or get an infection, this already looks bad."

"Erik!" I don't want to lose you too. I can't lose you too. I just can't.

"No painkillers. Charles?" He pushes himself up where Hank has to steady him a moment later, carefully bringing one arm over his shoulder. It would be a victory that he let's him help, that they are allowed to touch him, but Charles doesn't feel that way. He is too worried, too tired, too hurt and he has too many thoughts in his head to feel more than a silent wave of relief. His own thank you echoes in his head. Stubbornness may have saved Eriks life multiple times, but here, home, with Charles he still thinks it necessary, and Charles doesn’t want to imagine why. The helmet was just a different kind of mask, and now, right here, there is none. He stays away from his feelings, but he still gets them. There will be time for that later, he hopes, later, when everything is over. When they both had some rest they could talk. He wants to convince Erik to stay, this time. Just for a while. He had tried that many times over the last years, but everytime Erik left. He tries not to remember Cuba too vivid.

He is not prepared of what follows.

It’s the bloodloss, that triggers it. They are in the plane and Charles keeps tabs on everyone. And everyone is just as tired as he is. But the steady flow of thoughts that surrounds him like background noise he doesn’t have to listen into is wrong, suddenly. A deep wrong feeling is all he gets as he concentrates on the person near the wall, sitting half slumped against a box of medical supplies. When was the last time he saw him sleeping? He tries to remember and nearly fails. So long ago when they were both different people. Before Cuba. There is one memory, after the whole ordeal with apocalypse, when Erik calmed down from what Hank had called his “metal trip”, when Erik all but collapsed on their way home, but it had been different. It wasn’t sleep. He looked pale and clammy, his skin nearly transparent, shadows under his eyes and unmoving - it hits him a second later. Just like now.

“Erik?” He tries, verbal, sitting up straighter from his own spot on the floor, with a sponsored blanket far more comfortable than any seat as he really just felt like lying down.

There is no answer, and he reaches out to a muddled confusion he doesn’t dare to disturb as exhausted as he is. Eriks thoughts tend to overwhelm him when he is not careful, in a way he doesn’t completely understand. Not even after all this time.

He drags himself to the other side of their area, a few feet only, his blanket in tow without realizing it.

“Erik!” He grabs his hand. Cold. “No no no… Erik, come on, open your eyes!” He gets a silent grunt in return but nothing more. Hank! I need you back here, it’s Erik! It takes him only a moment to spot the red that seeped into Eriks trousers and dripped to the floor where the boxes are. Hank slithers to the floor next to them and puts a hand on his pulse. It unnecessary to look at the wound now that they can both see the blood, but Charles still has to swallow and close his eyes for a moment. He should have insisted, right the moment it became clear that Erik was very much not fine. Not… let him have his will and get a bandage and just sit down in the plane until they are back at the manson.

“He’s lost too much blood, I need to stitch this up.” Hank is already moving, grabbing the blanket from Charles, who tries his best to help move Erik entirely to the floor. He has Eriks head on his knees and leans against the wall himself for support. He watches Hank preparing a needle and cleaning the wound, as suddenly, the man in his lap twitches. Just a bit, his head moving, his eyes struggling to open. Hank pays this no mind and Charles wants to move his arms to keep Erik down if it comes to it, but his eyes stay closed and he… talks.

“Nein, lass das…” Charles doesn’t understand a word, but he also doesn’t have to. He is only half conscious, laying here, vulnerable. God knows what he things where he is. What memory this brings back.

“Erik, It’s okay. You are safe, Hank needs to take a quick look at your wound.”

“Ich habe- ich kann es doch nicht. Ich kann es nicht, es tut mir leid aber-” He stops and begins moving more.

“Lass mich!” and then, much quieter. “Bitte…” Charles feels bile rising up in his throat. He doesn’t need to know what he is saying, he doesn’t need any confirmation. He gets it without a word in his language. He feels it in a wave of thoughts and feelings. Loss, dread, shame and he stops counting it after it. He leans forward and puts both hands on Eriks shoulders, one to keep him down and second to lean his forehead against his. I’m here. God Erik I’m here, it’s okay…He swallows hard. Erik is still here. He has to tell this to himself multiple times, after- after-

There is no response as Erik is too far gone.

It is… not pretty. The thrashing and talking, becoming quiet murmurs and tears when Charles forced Erik to lay still, tears in his own face, Hanks tight and his eyes keeping on the wound. It only takes minutes, but it could be hours and Charles wouldn’t know the difference. Erik is sobbing in his leg when Hank finally puts the needle away. Charles doesn’t want to know what he says or thinks, keeps up his own shields and tries to keep away as far as possible. He has to, or the emotions would overwhelm him again as they nearly did before. It’s different with Erik, it always has been, and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. He strokes strands of wet hair away from Eriks forehead, cleans his face to wipe the tears away. Hank does… something, talks about fluids and how Erik needs a transfusion when they are home, but Charles only nods and listens with less attention than he gives Eriks face. His eyes are screwed shut, still, and the tears keep coming even now. It hurts, it hurts him on a deep level he can’t explain. From long ago, when they were still sitting on the stairs and playing chess. Nothing was okay or easy back then, but they were still together and…

He reaches out a mental hand, careful and softly. He doesn’t want to scare him, or trigger the wave of memories that he can feel are just held back by pure stubbornness.

I’m here, Erik. You can relax now, I’ve got you. It takes a moment. Two, until there is a slight, quiet and careful reply. Just a thought, manifesting out of the chaos. It’s like the day they met, underwater. When he saved his life.

Charles? Charles, I can’t- He can’t move, can’t control the pain, can’t do anything, Charles saw to that. And it pains him that it is better that way.

It’s okay. Please rest, we’ll talk later. Much later. Much later he hopes.

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

Translations:

“No, don’t”

“I have- I can’t do it. I can’t do it, I’m sorry, but-”

“Leave me! … Please…”

#whumptober 2019 #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #hank mccoy #stitches #whump prompts #whump fanfiction #cherik fanfiction #erik whump

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jerseydeanne · 5 years

Text

Message from JD

Thank you so much for being patient with me. My husband is taking off for five days next week so we can bang this home renovation out.

Big huge shout out to the Ohio John for being a sweetheart and half and Mona and Terri for being awesome friends! Jeanne for her commitment to encouraging me, I can do this and seeing the same vision for our little home and for volunteering poor Don, I do love…

View On WordPress

#Gizmo #new doggie #new home

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inkxlenses · 6 years

Note

Regarding post/172299066623/istj-hedonist-samlick23-istj-hedonist-when I don't get why people would compare mbti with astrology and shit. It's as flawed as any other personality theories but it's still a system that works. Astrology doesn't even deserve to be called a personality theory 😩 And just like u said it's never about 'personality' anyway?? That test clusters people yet only considers people's behaviors as if nobody doesn;t have shit like that

Okay. These are among the most exciting asks that I have received so far. I would like for this blog to be as drama-free™ as much as possible because it’s just my virtual escape™. I have also always expressed that I don’t consider this blog as solely an aesthetic™ and inspiration blog. In fact, I was very humbled to be encouraged by my friends and followers to continue including topics that interest me in this blog. But even though this is my blog, I know that I have the responsibility to check what I post here to ensure that nothing would negatively affect someone else’s mental and emotional health (especially as I have observed that most of my followers are minors). So I would just keep my response under the line—and because it’s just really, really, long. HAHA. Also, just for future reference, if you oh-so-hate MBTI [or whatever piece of knowledge I feature here/ if you’re only interested with the aesthetic™ content], you could blacklist my *mbti*, *text* and *photo* tags.

Coincidentally, I would be having a mini-hiatus, and this would be my only response regarding this topic because I’m not really fond of tumblr drama™. I would be temporarily disabling anonymous asks during my break, so if you have anything you would like to discuss with me, kindly contact me via private messaging (but please be patient with my response. I promise I would get back to you as soon as I become online). My only request is that you should first read what I have to say before reacting to anything, because I might have already discussed what you are trying to ask. No worries, I wouldn’t judge nor hate you for your opinions. I actually welcome and enjoy healthy debates (as it is part of my real-life job lmao). And I’m not a fragile snowflake™ so you could really talk to me about anything, I wouldn’t mind :P

Firstly and most importantly, I want to apologize to anyone who had been offended or had felt attacked on my rant. I was not describing a particular person in the *inner dialogue*, and it’s not my intention to offend anyone. So if anyone had felt this way, again, my apologies.

So what is this post about?

I had recently reblogged an MBTI post where I was referring to the function theory—not the common MBTI stereotypes and misconceptions circulating over the internet. And just like what I had mentioned over and over again [and on my tags on that particular MBTI post], online MBTI tests are not accurate and should not be taken seriously. It’s disappointing how 16personalities have been profiting from this by selling misinformation to people. This was OP’s topic, in which I had just agreed with their views and had personally shared my opinions as well. Yet it seems to be that there had been some misunderstanding regarding said topic. Literally OP’s argument—and the same criticisms we continuously read regarding MBTI *points to some of the anons above*—are exactly what we are critiquing as well, because these are common misconceptions and stereotypes which are not related to the theory anyway. So I don’t really understand the intense reaction regarding our opinions on the letter dichotomy and online MBTI tests, because we actually disapprove of the same things as well. Weird -_-

I never mentioned nor even vaguely expressed that MBTI should be the zenith™, the absolute “ Law™ ”, nor do I believe that it should monopolize all the ideas in personality theories. That’s just.. funny. We wouldn’t mind if the function theory is not your thing; you can leave it just like that. Simple. Just like how everyone else has their own beliefs and interests that others simply don’t agree with as well. Nobody would forcefully entice you to MBTI, especially if you had not expressed your interest and curiosity for it. It’s just a matter of respecting others’ POVs and interests.

I could easily brush this off because I truly believe that people are entitled to their opinions, and I respect that. More importantly, I had studied typology for several years now that I’m already quite confident of my knowledge about it. Thus, I won’t easily be shaken by criticisms about the theory—which I’m very much aware of anyway. Sadly, it’s seems to be an automatic impulse in tumblr to hate, rather than communicate. My friends had told me of someone publicly posting something defamatory with regards to the MBTI post that I reblogged. I don’t know what that particular blog had been aiming for, but clearly their hateful intent had failed miserably. I didn’t expect the support of my friends, more so, the consideration of people from the MBTI community. I really want to thank everyone who had supported and understood me even if I wasn’t online during that time. My friends are so protective of me, and the responses of people from the MBTI community had been so funny and adorable I’m SO flattered. Watch as my face turns vermillion xD

With that said, I felt like I should at least explain my part and answer the anons who aren’t in favour of MBTI. I just want to stress that I don’t plan to forcefully persuade you to believe MBTI. My only intent is so that you could look into my perspective as I share my knowledge and understanding after many years of studying the theory, in contrast to the misconceptions and stereotypes about it, which I believe is what these anons were referring to. I emphasize that if MBTI is not your *thing*, then you could simply ignore it. This topic is very important to me because it had helped with my well-being, introspection, relationship with others, career, and general outlook in life. So I just want to clarify some points with regards to the asks above^ because I believe some misunderstandings had occurred. So thank you very much @hueristix, @clumsynix, @ckatharcis, @tzeentchs-secretary and anons for your messages. I am really so thrilled to discuss my views with you.

The cognitive function theory—more commonly known and referred to as MBTI [especially here]—explores the human cognition, NOT outward behaviours and personal preferences. Contrary to what the first anon had said, I believe that we cannot compare the theory with astrology because the former never categorizes how humans act the way they act, more so, it never simply propose their “ personality traits ”. The theory recognizes that every person has their own free will, inherent capabilities, traits, emotions, and preferences (etc. I could go on and on, I swear), and would be constantly affected by personal struggles, life circumstances and other external factors through out their life.. and well, basically just like what Jeanne (ckatharcis) had referred to, it acknowledges that humans cannot be “ clustered ” simply through their behaviours, personal preferences, traits, etc. because again, the theory is NOT about that. Thought process is the essential and primordial reason why outward behaviours, personal preferences, emotions, etc. are easily observable in a person, and NOT the other way around. Thus, it’s also the reason why your type cannot change contrary to common misconceptions, and essentially the reason why tests are not reliable. [Link 1, Link 2—I highly recommend this post.]

I think the first anon is not familiar with the function theory, but, instead, with the letter dichotomies (i.e. I vs. E, etc.) which is the general principle on the said 16personalities site [and other online MBTI tests]. This was exactly what OP had criticized and what I had discussed on my *inner dialogue*. Again, I do not blame the first anon or anybody else who are familiar with this concept because misconceptions and stereotypes are easier to be accessed, contrary to the theory itself which would definitely require time and in-depth research to get acquainted with. I understand that not everyone would be interested to invest time and effort on something that they would just like to casually learn. And it’s okay.

However, I would like to clarify that I [and I truly believe that OP as well] have no intention to humiliate, condemn, mock or ostracize people who had only been familiar with MBTI stereotypes (the letter dichotomy) and/or had only taken online MBTI tests, because we understand that [again], sadly, those misconceptions are disappointingly perpetuating in the internet and even on some books. OP had clearly stated that their only issue was how people who aren’t really familiar with the function theory should refrain from initiating any MBTI-related discussion. Even if I personally agree with OP, their premise was repeatedly contradicted by others who were justifying the validity of 16personalities. However, I believe that asking questions and expressing genuine interest to learn more is different from spreading misinformation to others. As long as you do your own research first, the MBTI community here is actually very welcoming of people who would like to learn more of the theory. The MBTI community here also encourages critical thinking, exchanges of different ideas, and endless rational debates—which is exciting, right?

I think OP had been very honest with their opinion (though may had been perceived as *offensive* and rude by some) and I truly concur with their points. I’ve said in my *inner dialogue* how I believe that spreading wrong information is destructive. It is damaging to other people who have only been starting to learn the theory, to take advice and information, or be mentored by people who had been misinformed as well. Why? Because above all else, the theory is used for self-evaluation and understanding of one’s strengths and weaknesses (with regards to their cognitive process), to provide clear direction on how to advance towards their personal growth and development. For that reason, if one is mistyped, and they generally believe that their thought process works this *particular* way and that they have *certain* strengths and/or weaknesses, then they are not only failing to seize the opportunity to recognize their *actual* strengths and weaknesses through fully understanding how their cognition works, but they could also potentially damage their mental health and well-being because that is not how their thought process operates. It worsens when spreading misinformation like that is increasing exponentially.

We would never dismiss nor humiliate anyone who have only been starting to familiarize themselves with the theory, because we had been beginners as well. Mate, my blog is not an MBTI blog, but I have two mutuals who had been so humble to admit that they had fell for that abomination-of-a-test, and had asked me about the basics and other resources to study the theory. I never ridiculed them; contrary, I was so proud of their humility to admit that they had been misinformed, and of their willingness to learn. There is no shame in that. I really admire people who admit their mistakes or ignorance because I know that people who think this way are really the ones who have the desire to learn and improve, and have insatiable thirst to absorb more knowledge.

I’ve been studying the function theory for about 3 or 4 years now, but I still consider myself to be a newbie at this. Even if I’m already quite confident of my knowledge about it, I know that I still have a lot more to learn [and that’s exciting]. But OP and other legit MBTI blogs here have been studying this theory for many years now, and they are considered as reliable resource persons for other MBTI enthusiasts as well [at least in tumblr]. Which is why I think [just my opinion], they could easily retaliate on insults or misinformation thrown at them by people who don’t even make an effort to read just the basics and/or have poor acumen to just believe everything they read on the internet, yet have all the liberty in the world to whine and be [passive-aggressively] defensive to rationalize their misconceptions of the theory. These legit MBTI blogs know what they’re talking about, and I think you could be the judge as to how they could react to insults thrown at them by people who don’t even understand the topic itself. I’ll just quote hueristix here, “ laziness should not be an excuse to ignorance ”. As I’ve said before: be receptive to different ideas, yet skeptical enough to question everything before accepting any piece of information as real™. And yes, that includes everything I say. After all, I’m just responding to opinions as well and we’re all just stating our subjective views here. We wouldn’t mind if the function theory is not your thing; you can leave it just like that. Simple. Nobody would forcefully entice you to MBTI, especially if you had not expressed your interest and curiosity for it. It’s just a matter of respecting others’ POVs and interests.

Yes, I am passionate about this theory and I know it is fine. But never had I mentioned nor even vaguely expressed that MBTI should be the zenith™, the absolute “ Law™ ”, nor do I believe that it should monopolize all the ideas in personality theories. I don’t know if what the first anon actually meant was: since I’m so passionate of this theory, then MBTI must be My Favourite™ personality theory, thus, I propose that it should be held true above all else.. but uhm I just want to clarify that MBTI is not My Favourite™ (I even prefer Enneagram over it, sorry haha). I am aware that it’s not the most recognized personality theory in the field of Psychology. And I had said it before, and I’ll say it again: just like any other typological theories, I know that MBTI has its merits and flaws. Though there is qualitative neuroscientific research intended to point evidence to the existence of cognitive functions in the human mind, MBTI is still not 100% considered to be scientific by some [because according to them there is no physical manifestation of cognitive functions. Uhm. I’d just leave it like that.. For now]. No personality theory is infallible. And again, as I had said in verbatim on my *inner dialogue*: “ The human mind is so complex. And to propose that a person’s *personality* could easily be identified through a 10-minute test is just absurdly.. laughable to me [not to mention that that test is focused more on NATURAL HUMAN behaviours and not cognition—which is what the theory is about anyway xxxx xxxx xxxx] like wtf so amazeballs that they could identify my *personality* with such an overly-random question that any other person could have strong preference over the other. ”. So I don’t really understand what the first anon’s critic was, because what they had pointed out was exactly what OP, I, and basically all the people who had studied this theory are continually expressing. Based on my tags alone, we’re actually on the same team™ here.

How? (1) I had said earlier that the theory does not limit human free will. It understands that people have innate imprints in them that manifest on how they act, talk, feel, etc. In the same way, it also understands how people and their preferences are constantly developing and changing [and yes as the first anon said, “ evolving ”], because humans will continue to encounter and be exposed to several personal afflictions, relationship struggles, disappointments, successes, gratifications, religious beliefs, cultural conformity, and other life-altering situations and external factors throughout their lifetime that will heavily affect their behavioural makeup and adaptability to their external environment. Everyone—whatever their type may be—can behave any way they like depending on the situations and circumstances that they are dealing with, because there are many factors that affect and influence how people behave, not only a person’s type. BUT their cognitive functions have been there all along, constantly operating, even if their *functional stack* could fluctuate on their healthy and/or unhealthy states depending on how they had adjusted and adapted to these circumstances [uhm more advanced topic of the theory—see the beauty of this theory? It’s never obsolete. Contrary to misconceptions, the theory recognizes the erratic human nature. It pains me how people could outright dismiss and insult the theory without studying it first, because they fail to realize its usefulness in a person’s life, more than what that shite site says *ho hum*]. (2) I agree with most of the principles of the function theory because it doesn’t “ categorize everyone into 16 cutout personality types ”, nor does it have a manual that says “ ‘here are a few common personality traits, be free’ aspect ”. MBTI stereotypes and ideas from the 16personalities assert that; the function theory does not. (3) [uhm this is getting so repetitive now] The theory is not about what our external behaviours are, nor does it dictate what our *personalities* are. Rather, on the simplest terms, it analyzes how we think. It analyzes how we make decisions, through our cognitive process, when we encounter a particular situation.

Hopefully, my explanation would be enough to clear up some misunderstandings from the aforesaid post. However, I believe that this explanation alone would not suffice for anyone who are still confused with the theory and/or for those who are interested to learn more. Hence, the next section is really just for reference and further clarification, just in case there are still some questions that others are still confused about. That said, I know that I would not be able to articulate these ideas the way this particular blog do [and I don’t want to sound like a bot if I would just be reciting their ideas exactly as they had expressed it], so I’d just be quoting one of the most reliable MBTI blogs here and a personal favourite of mine (mbti-notes), to give insight on some issues that had been critiqued on that post. These are really interesting and thought-provoking ideas so I hope you could take time to read them. Also, I highly-recommend their blog!

[With regards to common MBTI stereotypes and misconceptions]:

Anonymous: Stereotypes give people wrong assumptions about what types are. They don’t define what your personality or your actions are going to be like. They don’t even define what thoughts you have. It’s simply the pattern and the functions you use to come to conclusions. I’m an ENTP (22) and my best friend is an ENFP (23). Yet people would probably switch our two types because I tend to be very gentle and kind around others while she appears more tough and openly says what she thinks.

I appreciate your point. Part of the reason for the stereotyping problem is that the information online and even in books is dominated by two main schools of thought that focus very heavily on behavior at the expense of cognition (Myers-Briggs and Keirsey Temperaments), so a lot of people do not realize that there are other (better) interpretations available. My first exposure to typology was through Keirsey and, although I thought it was interesting at the time, I wasn’t able to see the full potential of the system because everything was masked behind simplistic labels (stereotypes) that didn’t seem to connect with real life to the degree that I thought was necessary to be a truly viable theory of personality. I think a lot of people get interested in MBTI because of its practical applicability in situations like personal relationships or group/work environments and MBTI is good for learning some general rules of thumb that can help you improve the ways in which you deal with different kinds of people. However, general rules of thumb very easily morph into stereotyping and pigeonholing when people do not understand the finer details of the theory and then apply the ideas and principles too carelessly. The human mind is prone to lazy overgeneralizing or drawing invalid conclusions as it is and the lack of depth in the information available unfortunately encourages that laziness. (Source)

[With regards to MBTI’s *accuracy*]:

Anonymous: Do you think that other personality identification types such as Alignment and Global 5/SLOAN are more, less, or just as accurate as MBTI can be?

“Accuracy” is not really the right question. Every theory of personality that is developed by academics is put together very deliberately to serve a particular purpose, and it must be used as intended in order to preserve validity. Unfortunately, when the ideas trickle down into mainstream consciousness, the original purpose of the theory often gets lost in translation, with the general public using it more like a horoscope or fortune cookie and then complaining about the inaccuracies. Every kind of theory has its advantages and disadvantages. For instance, the Five Factor model is a trait theory, which has the advantage of being easily quantifiable and very reliable for statistical analysis. However, there is no actual theoretical underpinning for it because the traits are derived from factor or data analysis, which offers no explanation as to why traits exist, how they arise, why there are only five, and so on. Trait theories are limited in what they are able to explain about human behavior but they remain very useful for doing replicable research studies. There is of course some overlap of concepts between trait theories and type category theories like MBTI.

Cognitive function theory is a qualitative and holistic model of personality that sprawls into other related areas of psychology. Qualitative research excels at theoretical analysis and depth of detailed explanations and is less conducive to statistical analysis/prediction. Jung developed psychological types as a part of the psychoanalytic tradition, however, that tradition fell out of favor in the US to make way for more popular quantitative research methods, though it continued to expand in certain European circles. Myers & Briggs and David Keirsey brought it back to life in a more digestible form but it was never meant to be distilled to such an extreme degree; MBTI essentially turned into a corporate money making tool and Keirsey rejected the notion of cognitive functions in favor of behavioral descriptors. Many of the criticisms that are leveled at MBTI are legitimate but not actually applicable to cognitive function theory because of not seeing the full extent of it and how it is embedded firmly within the long history of psychoanalytic theory, a school of thought which has done more than any other to reveal the qualities of the unconscious mind. Now that there is emerging neuroscientific research that confirms some of these old ideas about the unconscious, there is some resurgence in their popularity within research circles. (Source)

[With regards to MBTI’s basics, development and “scientific” basis]:

Anonymous: The J/P dichotomy is particularly interesting because, say, you have already three letters I N F, the last letter decides not only your dominant and auxiliary functions, it flips the stack; INFP (Fi-Ne-Si-Te) vs. INFJ (Ni-Fe-Ti-Se), and then we read that according to descriptions those types are very different. But then we also have a lot of people who can’t really decide if they’re INFJ or INFP. It’s all very strange to me.

It’s strange to you because (judging by the earlier question) you haven’t understood what the J/P distinction really means and you haven’t properly distinguished cognition and behavior. Two different cognitive functions can manifest similar looking behaviors on the surface (as I have explained numerous times in the guides, please read them carefully). E.g. Any introvert can be reflective but the reasons WHY a particular individual is reflective, the motive and explanation behind it, differs according to the cognitive functions involved (Fi vs Ni). If you don’t know the details of their inner cognitive processes, you cannot see the differences because, just looking from the outside, all you see is that they are both reflective in demeanor. xxxx xxxx xxxx MBTI type descriptions are purposely simplistic because newbies don’t know the theory and therefore must identify themselves through simple behavioral descriptors. MB designed their system in part to sidestep the complicated process of learning function theory so that more people could access it, a noble intention, therefore simple type descriptions do not include all the info you need to type accurately because they do not address variations within type and cognitive function specifics. In other words, problems with typing stem from lack of knowledge of the theory, usually because of not going any deeper than the simplified descriptions/tests. The test was meant to be administered and interpreted by an expert, which means that people run into all kinds of problems when they try to self-type with limited to no knowledge of type theory.

[continuation of the ask] Is there any real scientific proof that Jungian cognitive functions exist? Dario Nardi’s attempts are certainly interesting, but it’s a common knowledge that EEG method is far from being reliable. Also, on one of his AMA discussions on reddit he presented instances when he was testing midlife INFJ adults who he couldn’t differentiate from of ISTPs, which he attributed to the use the second most common pattern (Ti-Se for INFJs). So, which model is true, or is this a combination of dichotomies and functional stack model? Can you shed some light on those issues and inconsistencies? Additionally, I’d really like your opinion on Reynierse’s articles (“Preference Multidimensionality and the Fallacy of Type Dynamics”, etc.). Thank you. The question of “science” has already been beaten to death over and over again so I’ve grown impatient with this can of worms. I don’t have much to say about Nardi, he’s pursuing his ideas and more power to him, but his work is not particularly interesting to me because it is getting away from other aspects of type theory that I am more interested in. xxxx xxxx xxxxx Some people latch onto him because they desperately want some kind of “scientific proof” of the functions. Some people dabble in typology and keep demanding “scientific proof” but don’t understand the differences between quantitative and qualitative research. There are different kinds of theories, with different kinds of objectives, with different standards of measurement, with different methods of application - the scientific method is only one valid research framework and it should not be the measure of all things. Traditionally, science often includes the concept of falsifiability but you can’t falsify that which is not within the realm of empirical fact, e.g., you can’t falsify human valuations or subjective meaning/experience, so are these things not “real”? Do you understand the difference between facts and values? Do you believe that only scientific measurements can imbue ideas with value? Do you believe that materialistic explanations of human psychology are the be-all and end-all? Not everything about human experience can be reduced to neurons and electrons. If you think it can, then feel free to dismiss type theory as crap because it’s not going to fit well with your assumptive worldview. Also, abstract and concrete knowledge are different and should be treated differently. No idea is “real” because “real” implies concrete, and ideas are abstract. One can easily claim that any idea is not “real” depending on how you want to set your standards of measurement. xxxx xxxx xxxx Similarly, people claim that “types” or “functions” are not real even when they themselves: behave as type theory describes, suffer the problems that type theory describes, feel attracted to the relationships that type theory describes, follow the developmental path that type theory describes.  

Before you ask for “scientific proof”, you should first define exactly what standards of proof would satisfy you and make you believe that cognitive functions are “real”. It is quite often the case that people who like to harp about scientific “proof” don’t even understand what they’re asking for or to what end, they demand proof but no matter what proof is offered, they keep moving the goalposts because they are actually more interested in criticizing than understanding (see climate change deniers as the perfect example). Just so you know, many mbti bloggers are tired of dealing with such people, we’ve already gone through all these arguments a million times. I’m not saying you’re one of these people but beware that you’re stepping into a complex discussion and don’t seem sufficiently prepared. Instead of making people explain or educate you, state your exact criteria of scientific proof and I’ll happily tell you if type theory passes. Type theory is a big theory and some people find it hard to understand even the basic type concepts which barely scratch the surface because the theory goes far beyond simple typing. It is an incomplete and fragmented theory, with many people working on it for different reasons in different directions. Many people have found elements of type theory very useful and accurate in their lived experiences, even using it to permanently solve long running psychological issues, even using it to deftly cure relationship problems. There is piecemeal neuroscience evidence which does not directly relate to type theory but nonetheless corroborates it. I wouldn’t know if any of this is enough “proof” because you haven’t specified exactly what proof you’re demanding. If the book falling on your head doesn’t prove gravity is “real”, then I suppose all the people whose thought processes match the principles of type dynamics don’t count as real proof either. The results say a lot. I run a popular typology blog and have dealt with thousands of people, so I at least don’t suffer from sample-size-1. Type dynamics describes very specific problems and offers workable solutions, and I’ve witnessed many different kinds of people from different backgrounds, cultures, walks of life apply these ideas with great success. Is this “empirical evidence”? I’ve had the most hardened scientifically-minded strangers think I’m a magical wizard when I can knit together their life story and reveal their innermost insecurities based only on four letters, yet all I’m doing is applying and extrapolating from the theoretical ideas as I understand them, nothing more.  

All I will say about arguments against type dynamics is that they usually can’t see the forest because they’re stuck in the trees: they get wrapped up in granular details and superficial inconsistencies; they don’t see the historical big picture of how every model evolves from and contains the same set of ideas; they don’t see how some disagreements between models are merely semantic and actually address the same underlying concept; they don’t fully grasp the principles of type dynamics and then produce strawman criticisms (some of the points in those articles actually support, add to, or help clarify type dynamics rather than debunk it); they perceive the explanatory flexibility of type dynamics as a flaw, not a strength; they probably prefer trait theories because they are easily quantifiable (and then completely miss the point of type dynamics); they don’t see how the ideas could potentially fit with mathematical dynamics and energy flow. Any theory worth its salt should remain open to criticism, development, and further clarification but, in order to critique a theory successfully, you must first understand it, and I don’t think the author of those articles has understood type dynamics well enough. (Source)

Again, I apologize to anyone who had been offended of what I said in my tags. And thank you very much for taking the time to read this post! :)

P.S. I have no intention to answer that anon who made a sexist comment about M & B. I have already discussed what my points are regarding MBTI Tests™, so I wouldn’t really judge them or anyone else for having fun with taking multiple personality tests. But since I think this anon have zero knowledge of the theory anyway, I have to clarify that it wasn’t created by M & B [who, by the way, even if they had not been psychologists by profession, had made extensive research of the theory—probably more than you would ever do, anon. Then again, I don’t really adhere to M & B’s approach], but was devised by one of the best minds psychology has ever known. FYI that person was a man—if anon would feel more validated™ to know that their own sex is the perfect authority for objective™ measurement of intelligence or competence *cough* it actually isn’t *cough*. Also, I really am so tired already to rebut something that is completely illogical, it’s even barely understandable. *ho hum* I’m very open to discuss opinions that differ from mine, but if you are trying to establish your argument through a sexist comment, then don’t expect that I would answer you with respect.

#asks #anonymous #answered #tagging this as:#negativity #just to be safe #ckatharcis #clumsynix #hueristix #tzeentchs-secretary #please ignore any typos and grammatical errors #i'm too tired to proofread this haha

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hellzeldagirlsfanfic · 6 years

Text

To Regain What I Lost Chapter 4 Part 1

It was late into the night, about ten-ish. Caster stood on the cliff overlooking the road where the other Caster would appear. Caster had come up with a plan to take care of the other Caster.

The plan had two parts to it. The main part of the plan was to deceive the other Caster by using an illusion of Saber and her master. Whiles he was distracted by the illusion she would then trap him then she would finish him off. The other part was a distraction for Saber and her master so they wouldn't interrupt her 'battle'.

All of the preparation had been done beforehand, all Caster needed was for the other Caster to appear.

Caster waited patiently for the moment she could put her plan into motion. Caster felt someone appear next to her.

"Hello Assassin, how may I help you?" She asked him.

"Just here to fill you in about Saber's and Lancer's battle," He answered.

Caster crouched down, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"I know most of what happened," She told him. "I had one of my familiars watching the battle. Though there are some things she couldn't pick up,"

"I am very happy to fill in the blanks for you," Assassin offered.

"Thank you, Assassin," She thanked him. "What was Rider's name? My familiar couldn't pronounce it," Caster asked.

"Iskandar," Assassin simply answered.

There was a brief moment of silence before Caster spoke.

"Please tell me that's a joke?" She asked.

"Unfortunately not," he replied. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Caster stared into the night sky before she answered Assassin.

"I used to read a lot about Alexander the Great as a child. I guess I have a heavy romanticize version of him. I didn't think he is someone who goes head first into battle without a plan," She explained.

Assassin hummed. "Anything else?"

"Could you explain Berserker's Noble Phantasm?" She asked.

"It seems like anything Berserker touches become his Noble Phantasm. I'm not sure it extends to other Noble Phantasm," Assassin explained.

Caster hummed in reply. Taking in the information and running it against her knowledge of different heroes she had read about. There wasn't much to work off since Berserker's appearance was brief, Ouse couldn't give a detail description of him.

Her thoughts were stopped by an unfamiliar presence. Caster focuses her eyes back onto the road. She could make out the figure of the other Caster on the road, waiting for Saber to come. Standing up, she nodded to Assassin signalling to him that it was time for her to put her plan into motion.

Moving to the edge of the cliff, Caster took a deep breath before proceeding forward.

'Yae, Sae are you ready' She asked.

'Yes Matilda,' The twins answered in the union.

Caster nodded to herself.

"This man who’s maddened by his desires, allow them to become reality. Weave and fabricate his desire into an illusion," Caster commanded her spell.

There was a brief moment before the sound of screeching tyres could be heard from up the road.

From one of the corners of the road came a silver Mercedes-Benz 300SL at a ridiculously fast speed. It continued at its fast-pace before stopping abruptly a couple meters in front of the other Caster.

The silver Mercedes' doors opened and Saber and her master stepped out. Both of them made their way to the front of the car, coming face to face with the other Caster. Saber stood slightly more in front of her master to protect her from the unknown servant.

The other Caster bowed to them crossing one of his arms across his body.

"I have come for you, my sweet and holy virgin," he said as he bowed. "Do you know this man," Saber's master inquired.

"I've never laid eyes on him," She answered honestly.

During this exchange of words Caster sneaked behind the silver car, waiting for the perfect moment to launch her attack.

"Oh no!" The other Caster cried out. "Are you saying you've forgotten my face?" he desperately asked.

"Forgotten you?" Saber repeated, stepping forward a bit. "I've never met you in my life. You mistake me for another," Saber told him.

The other Caster grabbed his hair and let out a small scream. "It's me, Gilles de Rais!" He cried out again, putting his left hand over his heart. "I have prayed for your resurrection and have been waiting for a miracle to reunite us. To that end I've come all this way to the end of time, my Jeanne," Caster rambled.

During his madden rambling the other Caster let loose his true identity. Gilles de Rais. That name fills Caster with a sickening hatred. She read about his heroic deeds during the Hundred Years War, as well as the story of Bluebeard.

"Who is Joanne?" Irisviel asked.

"I don't know your name I insure you. Nor have I any idea who this Joanne might be," Saber told him.

"No," Gilles whispered. "No, you've can't of forgotten, not your former identity," He asked.

"As you have deemed it fit to give me your name, I must in keeping with the chivalry code give mine. My name is Artoria, the heir to Uther Pendragon and King of Britain. I enter this battle in the saber class," Saber told him.

"Oh no! It's so very sad! She lost her memory and gone completely insane!" Gilles cried out once again. Gilles started screaming to God about how cruel he was while Gilles was hitting the ground with a fist.

Caster took this opportunity to trap Gilles. She abruptly cut off the illusion of catching Gilles off guard by this action. Using the moment of confusion to trap him. Caster uses the hair that she had placed around where Gilles stood, trapping him in a cocoon restraint.

"What is this!?" Gilles screamed.

"My trap. You have fallen right into it, Monsieur de Rais," Caster told him.

"Who are you!? What did you do with my fair Joanne!?" Gilles screeched.

"I'm Caster and Saber wasn't really there. It was all an illusion that I created so I could kill you," She told him.

"You liar! I am Caster of this Grail War!" Gilles screeched. "And how dare you use my fair Joanne like that!"

"Sorry to inform you but the Grail has decided to allow two Casters to be summoned in this war," She informed him. "As you can guess, there can be only one of us," She stated.

Gilles screamed and struggled against the hair-band restraint. Caster raised her right hand, calling the ends of her hairs to it. Once all the ends had gathered in her hand, she gave them a good old tug, tightening the hold of the cocoon. Gilles was still able to breathe properly but the hold was unbearable.

"Who is your Master?" Caster questions him.

"I will never tell you who my Master is! You Witch!" Gilles continued to screech.

Caster stood unaffected by Gilles screeching. She wrapped her hair around her hand and once again tugging on the hair, making the cocoon even tighter. Gilles now found it hard to breathe. He began to struggle even more against the restraints.

As Caster was about to talk again, she felt a presence of something about to attack her. Caster quickly jumped out of its way and activated her clairvoyance. Her clairvoyance shows her that something else would also try and attack her. Caster pumped mana to her feet, this would allow her to jump to have more power to it. She proceeded to jump onto the side of the cliff.

Looking back at the road to see what had attacked her, she was greeted with a strange site.

The creators- if you could call them that- looked like mutant starfish. Caster couldn't make out much detail about the creators' appearance since the lighting on the road was poor. From the energy, their bodies were giving off they were some kind of demon.

Caster could feel the threads of her hair being tugged. She looked back over at Gilles, who was now struggling more intensely against her hair. Noticing that Gilles was trapped, one of the creators jumped onto the strands connecting Caster to the cocoon while the other attached itself to the cocoon.

The creators tore through the hair freeing Gilles from his binds. Once he was free, Gilles reached inside of his cloak and pulled out a grimoire.

"You witch! I'll destroy you!" Gilles screeched.

A smirk spread across Caster's face.

"If it's a fight you want, I'll be happy to oblige," she said.

Caster ran her hand through her hair, pulling out some of her white hair. The strands of hair wrapped themselves around three of her fingers. Pouring more mana back into her legs Caster then jumped into the forest next to the road. As she passes Gilles some of her hair wrapped around his ankle pulling him into the forest as well. ***

Irisviel and Saber came rushing down the mountain road, heading back to Einzbern Castle.

Saber sat tensely in the passenger seat as Irisviel drove wildly around the corner.

"See! See! I told you so!" Irisviel happily said. "This car takes the turns really fast!"

"W-Well, that because your surprisingly a good driver," Saber nervously complimented Irisviel.

They came speeding over a bump in the road lifting the car and them into the air for a moment. This cause Saber a moment of fright.

"I know! You may not believe it but I practice all the time," Irisviel told Saber as she changed gears. "Of all the toys Kiritsugu has brought me over the years, this is my absolute favourite!" She confessed.

"Th-This is a toy?" Saber nervously asked.

Irisviel increased the speed, making the car go faster down the road.

"At the castle, I was only allowed to drive around the courtyard so, this is great!"

"Shouldn't we hired a professional driver?" Saber asked.

"No, that would be boring- I mean, it could be dangerous. What if the enemy were to suddenly launch attacked against us," Irisviel quickly bluffed out.

"Well, I suppose you have a point but-" Saber was interrupted when Irisviel slammed down on the breaks.

The car came screeching to a halt. Saber quickly looked over at Irisviel to see if she was fine -which she was,- before looking out of the window.

In front of the car like deer in the headlight, were two girls around the age of sixteen. The girls were identical to each, other most likely twins. They had dark browns hair that falls around their necks. They had walnut brown eyes. The girls were both wearing the same type of clothing, low tortilla brown swing coats with cedar brown knee length boots along with white woollen scarves.

One of the girls stood in front of the other, trying to protect the other girl whiles the other was clinging to the other.

The girls weren't servants or magus, just normal girls but what were they doing all the way out here this late at night.

"Irisviel stays here, I'll deal with the girls," Saber told her stepping out of the car.

Saber made her way to the front of the car where the girls were, now facing her as she came around. They cowered away from Saber when she reaches them.

"Are the two of you alright?" Saber asked.

The girl in front replied for both of them. "We're fine, just a bit shaken up,"

"That's good to hear," Saber said. "Why are the two of you here out so late?" she asked.

"Me and my sister were out trying to find some purple mountain flowers. We sort of lost track of time," The girl in front answered.

"And we got lost," Her sister added on.

Saber notices the girl behind was hiding behind her sister like she was afraid of her.

"I could take you back home? We're quite far from Fuyuki," Saber offered.

As they were about to answer, a large explosion came from the forest beside the road. Everyone turned to look at it. Dust rose into the air, it was around five meters long.

There was no doubting it was caused by servants.

Irisviel turned off the car and got out.

"Saber!" Irisviel called out to her.

Saber responded with a nod of the head before heading to the edge of the road. Irisviel now stood in front of the girls.

"We're just going to check out that explosion. You're welcome to wait in the car until we come back," She told them.

Irisviel then went over to Saber who picked her up in bridal fashion then proceeded to jumped down to the forest.

The girls stared at the spot were Saber and Irisviel had just been then turned the stare at the settling dust from the explosion. There was a moment of silence between them before either of them spoke.

"Do you think Matilda will be alright?" The girl in front asked.

"Of course Yae," The girl told her sister, moving closer to the side of the road. "She's powerful, talented and smart, she can find her way out of any situation," she said.

[Part 2]

[Chapter 3 Part 1] * [Chapter 5] * [Prologue]

#gilgamesh #gilles de rais #oc #fate zero #fate stay night #saber #artoria pendragon #tohsaka tokiomi #To Regain What I Lost #kotomine kirei

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

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hi I'm back again. Anyways; as always you don't have to answer if you don't wish! How do you think the residents would react to a young Pureblood MC? (I'm talking about young like a minor.) With that Gen Z in a nutshell personality. Obviously no romantic feelings, just in your opinion how do you think they'd react? all of my questions are just "coincidentally" oddly specific aren't they, totally

Oh shit whaddup I love the idea of Gen Z MC!!! Young pureblood it is, here we go! I’m going to be moving from the assumption that they’re like Comte/Leo; very sympathetic to humanity and sometimes have existential crises (trauma babeyyyyyyyyy). As such, I’ll also be assuming she’s not super close to her family given she rejects the larger vampiric hierarchy/superiority paradigm, memes and modernity, all that jazz

I hope this fits the bill! c:

Under a cut bc is a lonnnnnnng boi~ Click after Napo to see everyone else’s! No explicit triggers that I’m aware of, but if anybody sees anything I missed feel free to let me know

Comte’s reaction:

Absolute baby, he has decided this is his grandchild--no he will not change his mind or take constructive criticism. Get’s ESPECIALLY concerned when he starts to see signs of that “nothing in life matters 😎” nihilism, but doesn’t pester them about it or becomes naggy. Growing up he had similar issues with the prospect of eternal life surrounded by creatures with a mortal lifespan, so he doesn’t judge. He’s more like nah we all hit that vibe, let’s see if we can get their mind off it c: I feel like Gen Z really understand and appreciate the importance of culture and art, so I feel like they would bond a ton over trips to museums/plays/concerts! Invites them to tea time if he ever sees them particularly silent (ah yes, repression) or particularly tired, and does his best to ensure their safety without being intrusive (has briefed the men to escort/accompany her as needed, though Sebas usually does it).

If he sees fangs out around baby he will thrash the shit out of the perpetrator--unless it’s an accident. No excuses. That’s a child. Doesn’t give a FUCK if they’re another pureblood even with all the arranged marriage bullshit. He said what he said. (Remember that biting between vampires or vampire + human relations is considered something that’s only done between intimate partners, so he is having none of that for a minor)

Leonardo’s reaction:

Also certified granddad, but he’s the one that enables shenanigans and is just like “oh worm” when it comes to the existential dread (it’s a Tuesday). At first though Leo is basically that meme like: (Stupidman = Leo, Maddie = MC)

Not all purebloods are necessarily dangerous, but most are either incredibly indifferent to the plight of others (especially humans) or actively range from like playing social mind games to being sociopathic murderers/etc. the list goes on. As such, Leonardo is suspicious to no end until he sees that the kid really doesn’t have any ill will in her. She jokes with Sebas (they quote vines on the daily) and works with him normally; even when Leo asks Sebas he’s just “????? bro she’s just my kouhai, thanks for worrying tho”. One day he’s tasked with escorting her to grab groceries and assorted things for the mansion, and she freezes in place before bolting across the street. Turns out she saw a kid trip in the road and fall, and a carriage was moving fast from the other side--it likely wasn’t going to be able to stop. She scoops up the kid and holds them close, and when the parents try to thank her profusely she just seems more uncomfortable with the praise than triumphant. She didn’t want the kid to get hurt. If she could do something about it, it was as simple as that.

From that point on they’re hella chill and hang out together, usually just bonding in silence. If they’re an artist, he’ll offer them pointers and technique manuals--will help however he can. If not, they’ll just be reading together in the library now and again. If she falls asleep, he’ll tuck her in and watch over her (cue red eye meme when the door opens, but then it’s just Vincent so he c:). He’ll often pay close attention to her eating habits to make sure nothing’s amiss with her health since she’s still a growing pureblood. If she struggles with what she is a lot (given she’s sympathetic to human beings) he’ll synchronize his Rouge drinking with hers to make sure she doesn’t starve herself ;-;. Even if she’s just forgetful about drinking/eating, he’ll do what he can to make her life easier (that’s how he shows his affection uwu)

He will, of course, also tease her about being a baby until she kicks him in the shin while Comte sighs and tells him to knock it off with a smack upside the head

Napoleon’s reaction:

Not granddad energy, but you better believe he’s in a weird territory between sheer admiration and “I am your older brother now, eat your vegetables” “But I don’t even need vegetables” “Eat your vegetables and I’ll take you to a crepe shop” “............deal”

Basically it’s unlikely MC is super close to her siblings or even has any (pureblood children are a rare feat) so she’s like......wary, but then she just ???? this is.....kinda nice? Just having somebody that cares in a chill way, but still fully encourages her to throw men across the street if they’re hurting women/children (high fives her every time). He’ll often invite her to the swordplay lessons with the kids alongside Isaac’s teaching; she’s free to join in the learning, or honestly just hang out with people closer to her age (he’s v concerned about her having friends that she can relate to and talk to freely).

Protective in a subtle way, like Leonardo. Escorts her places and helps her carry groceries without fail when Sebas is running other errands. She becomes his crepe shop cover buddy whenever he has an intense hankering for sweets: “wanna go to that crepe shop around the corner” “you’re just too chicken to go alone, fool” “do you want crepes or not nunuche” “............BOKBOKBOK” “aight that’s it **gives her a noogie**” (they go anyway and have a marvelous time rating the crepes from best to worst, they got a whole list goin’)

Glares Arthur down if he so much as LOOKS in her direction

Mozart’s reaction:

Mozart is just the “what is with this sassy, lost child?” meme. Doesn’t dislike them, but they are just not remotely threatened by his haughty disdain by any extension. And he HATES IT. The MC is always just “Okay, boomer” and he just ?????? He doesn’t know what it means but it’s openly dismissive, so he mad.

Like idk if y’all know this meme, but it’s the same energy as:

It’s only when he notices she’s always punctual and careful with his requests that he starts to warm up. For example, she makes him a mocha by combining the way he likes his coffee and hot cocoa to perfection when he falls asleep at his piano. (She feels bad for him after Comte explains because--though he’s got a stick up his butt--he’s clearly distressed in his new surroundings ;-; Plus, the kind of perfectionism Mozart exudes is an extension of internalized shame, and when she begins to see that she really shifts her approach.) As such, he begins to soften to her presence. He begins to see that she isn’t indifferent to his existence, it’s more that she sees no need for intimidation and believes admiration is earned (basic respect isn’t a privilege, it’s a right). When he figures that out, he stops being so barbed and terse--starts to relax. Offers to let her stay and listen to his pieces if she wants, and she’s honestly touched given his clear struggle with vulnerability. Cuddles with Schelm at the window as he plays, and they become good friends.

As a result, Mozart becomes fiercely protective despite her sturdier nature as a pureblood and has hissed venom at Arthur about the fact that she is off fucking limits. Doesn’t leave her alone in the same room as the other men unless it’s with Jeanne or Comte; he don’t trust like that.

Arthur’s reaction:

Sweating a lot at the sudden collection of baleful eyes sticking to his back everywhere he goes, but figures he brought it on himself to an extent. That being said, he can’t really get a word in edgewise given she just walks away when he tries to engage in conversation or compliment her.

Tough nut to crack this one, but he doesn’t let it discourage him. The only way she’ll give him the time of day is to play chess--and she kicks his ass soundly every single time. He’s fascinated by her extensive analytic ability, but she keeps silent about her strategies and thinking. Dazai and Theo always love to watch him get his ass handed to him, but he considers it a really interesting experience; it gives him insight into her mind, no matter how much she tries to hide. Patient, efficient, brutal--this kid has seen some shit, probably.

It’s after that point he just concedes she probably won’t let him in, though it doesn’t diminish his curiosity about the future; and perhaps traces of dread. What does the future look like for both her and Sebastian to be that stoic and aloof? It worries him...

Vincent’s reaction:

Vincent is v v impressed by her sense of self, and honestly sees a lot of Theo in her. She’s a little more reticent than Theo, but she has this same commitment to protecting the vulnerable and penetrating through the lies/shitty convictions of others. She is not a person who bends easily, but even so there’s a quiet kind of gentleness to her: she always chats to him v calmly, asks if he needs anything and is doing okay, doesn’t get impatient when he drops things or forgets his apron for the laundry. I think he would respond very positively to her presence, even if it wasn’t intentional. He just brightens up like a little sun and asks her out to picnics for fun; he has no greater intention than enjoying her smile and silly antics (he doesn’t always understand the references, but the way she executes it with so much dry wit--like Theo--makes him laugh). He just feels the warmth of family/familiarity around her ;~;

Ironically, they’re both exceedingly concerned for the other because they’re too self-sacrificing jkashlgdks like this is 100% a case of “I can’t let a young lady risk getting hurt” “Vincent I’m literally indestructible please just let me do this” “But it still hurts” “But I don’t want you to scar--” (This conversation extends so long that the author felt it would be more beneficial to add an etc. here).

He admires her and trusts in her abilities more due to the nature of her maturity, treats her like a cherished friend and sometimes younger sibling (not condescending but very indulgent; gives her the last of his sweets for example, or pats her on the head when she’s feeling gloomy--more of a wholesome puts her first). But make no mistake, he will throw hands in milliseconds if she gets ganged up on or can’t handle a threat--he just lets her handle most things bc she’s capable~

Isaac’s reaction:

Torn. Because on the one hand, she’s very serious and conscientious about her work--doesn’t want to inconvenience or trouble anyone--and he relates to that heavy.

HOWEVER.

She’s also got insanely chaotic energy when the mood strikes, so when Dazai starts doing his random shitfuckery you better believe MC is upping the ante. (I’m talking AH. ENSLAVED MOISTURE. levels). So Isaac essentially oscillates between thankful for her fortitude to bashing his head against a table for every second he knows her.

In all seriousness though, I would see Isaac as being pretty concerned. Like Vincent, they’re both self-sacrificing to a fault--and he doesn’t want that for her, especially given how young she is. Often tells her not to overdo it or to ask for help if she looks overwhelmed, though it’s not condemning; he says it softly with a neutral look on his face. (He considers it a Certified Mood^TM). He just wants to give back all the care she puts into helping around the house. He doesn’t feel right watching a kid work so hard without reminding her that she should find time to have fun and live for herself too. There will be plenty of time when she’s older to get serious.

He has a fairly easy time interacting with her because of his experience with kids; he takes her seriously (when she’s not clowning) and treats her autonomy with respect. If anything, she’s probably the protective one. She knows he’s an aberrant so she pays laser attention to when he’s suffering and brings him Rouge (not scared because she’s stronger than him and not human lmao, and she sees no need to put Sebastian at risk). When that uni pres pesters him, she goes cold and angry and asks the man to step off when she sees him start to downspiral. They’re essentially on equal footing (he has more life experience, she has more bodily strength/confidence). They're just chill and kind with each other (babies of the mansion, beloved by all).

Theodorus' reaction:

Because he is a manchild, he will be chill/generally indifferent until Vincent starts being indulgent with her (bro-con). He won't be violent or anything like that, but he will pout a storm and try to verbally shoo her away. Because she's a woman, intelligent, and likely a feminist--this will become hilarious because she will not remotely take him seriously. She will just ignore him or roast him in seconds before moving on with her day. Otherwise he doesn't care much because he doesn't have time to play babysitter (unless there's no one else to help).

At the most, he'll make sure she's safe and use the excuse that Vincent would be upset if he did anything less. If she likes/loves dogs and plays with King while she's there, he'll soften up and thank her for taking care of him. If she makes hella pancakes, he'll be the proudest about it--ruffling her hair. If she protects Vincent in any capacity, he'll be torn between jealous, grateful and impressed; he likes a kid that can hold their own and take responsibility within their abilities.

So their relationship is v much like a chill uncle with their niece; fond, but not necessarily super close or spend a ton of time together. He has his priorities, but he won't be an asshat (mostly).

Jeanne's reaction:

Jeanne is confused on so many levels. He doesn't dislike her spunk he's just staggered by her level of sheer reckless, righteous rage. (And he's a bit wary in the face of another pureblood as a potential enemy) but after a bit more time around her he relaxes. She's fairly simple to understand when you get to know her; cares about others to a fault, existential dread, overworks herself. Stays watchful, but he just treats her like the younger kids that Napoleon brings by the weapons shop when they need armor for practice. It can get a little funny because he’ll just be like “uhhhh uh kids like sweet stuff right? Here have some of the macaroons somebody brought by earlier, I don’t like ‘em that much anyway.” And she just “??? Thanks???” He doesn’t mind being around her, just doesn’t really know what to say so they often fall into comfortable silence after exchanging small talk. She likes that he isn’t complicated; what you see is what you get with Jeanne. It’s nice not to have to keep her guard up every second of the day,

When he sees her feeling particularly down, he’ll take her to that little field of white lilies behind the mansion during a full moon night. The silver light seems to make the petals emit an ethereal glow, and she makes him a flower crown in thanks. He listens kindly if she wants to talk, and if she doesn’t--that’s okay too; he’ll just give her a head pat.

Honestly he finds a lot of relief in the fact that she's a pureblood, because he feels less nervous about her being fragile or her getting fatally hurt when he’s not around. Will still be very gentle with her and protect her when she’s in proximity

Mission Status: Fucking Wholesome

Dazai’s reaction:

Big brother time? It’s big brother time!!!! He instantly makes it his subtle mission to look after her, though he’s v lowkey abt it. She takes one look at this depressed mofo climbing in through the window and just goes “aw yeah, this guy FUCKS” and they become besties at a glance. They basically make a game out of who can be the most absurd whenever they’re in the same room. Comte and Leo find it utterly hilarious, Napoleon is digging a grave for Isaac in the backyard (we all know his heart won’t be able to take it. Mozart is probably next. A moment of silence for our fallen.)

I just imagine them like that one post (@/acoolguy):

Dazai: You ever have to shake your leg because there’s a rock in it? MC: That’s your bones Dazai: Every day I learn some more

He’ll always share treats with her and brings her along for walks if she’s feeling wanderlust; he knows how hard it can be, how restless the heart becomes so far from home. He does his best to distract her with their ongoing jokes, but one day it starts raining very suddenly while they’re out. He rushes her under the nearest tree with broad, broad leaves and settles his haori/overcoat over her head. He looks incredibly serious as he looks to the sky--almost glowering at the dark clouds gathering, He doesn’t look at all like his usual fun-loving self in that split second, even though he’s back to his good-natured chirping “Guess we’ll just have to wait out the downpour. MC, are you cold? I should have been more careful.” She shakes her head and shares the coat with him, holding it out insistently until he relents. Their hands brush and she notices they’re freezing, but she doesn’t say anything. She seems to sense he has a lot on his mind, and leans her shoulder against his. The silence feels fragile; she doesn’t want to risk shattering it--shattering him. It is often said that it is an act of great courage to wipe away someone’s tears. But it can also be an act of great gentleness to turn away, to pretend one cannot see them fall (whether visible or not).

One day, after MC returns to her own time, Dazai returns to his room to find two shadows hanging from his window. Though a little crude--they’ve obviously been made by a beginner--it’s clear what they are. Rain ghosts. (Sebastian later explains it was MC’s wish that he have them, and Dazai only smiles very, very gently in response.)

Shakespeare’s reaction:

MC gets one look at him and knows something’s off. She can’t quite tell what it is, but he doesn’t feel like the rest of the family. She can sense something behind him, something lurking; but she can’t quite place it. (Comte has mentioned before that purebloods can sense each other, so I imagine MC knows right off the bat he isn’t a normal sired vampire--she just doesn’t know enough to identify exactly what it is.)

That being said, she is sus. He keeps talking like some kind of weird ass court jester/fae, and she hated his work when she had to do it for school (only enjoyed the Hamlet memes because, let’s be real, that shit is uproarious). When he tries to coax her to see Vlad with him, she says “'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.” And he just freezes in place before he starts laughing. Considers their battle of wills well-played, and warns her not to go out alone--doesn’t bother her again. Though sometimes enjoys listening to her conversations with others for good roast material. (No he is not taking notes, no this new chara is just fire and feral for no good reason--nothing to do with MC)

Sebastian’s reaction:

The l o r e, MC. Give him the forbidden pureblood lore. Will be incredibly curious and ask about what vampires are like outside of the mansion, for science of course. If he senses discomfort though his questions will die down completely--it’s not his intention to make her uncomfortable. He’s just curious!

Despite his stoicism he’s actually a very, very understanding and warm person. Will listen to any teenage jadedness or hopelessness with fond patience, recalling the days he was similar. He’ll offer what advice he can. He’s not one to be preachy, but if he sees someone at a loss, he’ll offer what he thinks might be a productive direction for them. Given her removal from her home and parents--even though she’s already well into high school--he’ll sympathize deeply with her position. Will be a firm but gentle guardian (hello Mansion Mom #2), offers her candy every time she does a chore exceptionally well or offers assistance without prompting. She’s sus and takes it reluctantly at first, but after she tries one in private secretly loves them. Sebas is just silently “you like krabby patties don’t you, squidward”. If she’s honest, she’s comforted by the sense of normalcy and care he gives, the harmless joking and easy respect for others (unless otherwise provoked).

When she finds out about his hobby considers him to be a Fucking Nerd^TM and wants to shove him into a locker, but in reality is endeared by how much he genuinely cares about the men. She thinks it’s a harmless fascination, and she senses the oddest...ephemerality about him. Because of this, she becomes pretty protective; he’s a human and he’s too nice for his own good. While she identifies in one sense, she worries in another. Pureblood are sturdy, but humans can’t necessarily sustain that kind of constant self-giving for long...

Also bc my tag game too strong adding it here: #i love the prospect of pureblood MC trying to bring Sebas and Napo together #MC: bruh i got this #Sebas, full of gay panic: wait, MC nO--

Meme tl;dr in the tags also for your enjoyment! I’m sorry this one took a little longer than most to finish!

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp theo #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp jean #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp sebastian #gen z pureblood mc #i had a lot of fun writing this! I hope this met your expectations friend! c:#comte and leo: uwu grandparents #mozart: okay BOOMER #napo: HAHAHA shithead siblings i love it #arthur and shakes: wouldn't you like to know weather boy. 'where are your parents??' (parts one and two)#vincent and isaac: BRUH S A M E S I E S #theo: **meme voice** 'is there anything worse than a rapist?' BOOM 'a child.' 'N O!'#jeanne: endearing but out of touch uncle while dazai is WOOOOO LET'S DRINK BLEACH uncle #sebastian: ah yes ty for the modicum of brain cells and competence that also shatters gender norms my good bi bitch #**Gilligan's cut to MC and Dazai wearing sunglasses and matching hats that read 'i put the (me) in disappointment'**

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March 2021

It is with great regret and sadness that we announce History Center Board Member, supporter, and dear friend Jackie Cooley passed away On February 9. She had been a Board member since 2016, but she and her husband Counte had been involved with the History Center for much longer, especially in relation to the White Path Cabin. Along with Counte she had operated Electronic Sales Company for 23 years. She was incredibly active in the community, including as co-founder of For Her Glory, an organization that helps cancer patients in need in medical assistance. Jackie always had a smile, an encouraging word, and a sharp insight, and she will be truly missed.

We have lots of exciting livestream programs for the month of March! Every Wednesday at 2 PM EST we host free livestream programming to the general public. Every Friday at 2 PM EST we host special Members Only programs.

Become a Digital Member today for as little as $3/month or $35/year at www.negahc.org/member.

View our entire March lineup at www.negahc.org/events

Homeschool Connection is going great. It is hard to believe we are approaching the midterm point of our 2nd semester already! We have just entered the 20th century in our American History Course. Last week we learned about WWI and we time traveled to meet a German Imperial Soldier who had been fighting in the trenches in France.

Is the pirate life for you? Come to the Northeast Georgia's virtual family day made possible by the Ada Mae Ivester Education Center on March 14th from 1PM to 5PM EST and find out. We will have lessons on the history of piracy, the weapons and tactics used by pirates, and you'll get to meet some of the most famous pirates to ever sail the seven seas! We will also talk about pirate legends and why are pirates are so popular today. And to end the family day be sure to join us live at 5pm to play our Pirate Trivia Game. If you win you may just get some treasure!

Thank you to everyone who joined us for our February Family Day: Voices for the Vote! It was held on February 14th which we learned is the League of Women's Voters Day. We had a wonderful time learning about the women's suffrage movement through the virtual tour of our special exhibit, crafts, fashion, and dance. We even had famous suffragists Sojourner Truth, Lucy Stone, and Frederick Douglas come and speak about their views. This program was made possible through the Ada Mae Ivester Education Center and viewers like you!

March Forum: Plagues in History

I know, we're all tired of hearing about, thinking about, and living through COVID-19... but what about some of the other pandemics from the past? Join us for a socially-distanced, mask-free virtual presentation on Tuesday, March 9, at 7PM ET for a MEMBERS ONLY Forum as we look back through history at some of the not-so-good days where plague walked the land and what our ancestors thought about disease and it made it through... Eventually.

Not a member? It's not too late! got to https://www.negahc.org/member and become one in just a few minutes!

We exceeded our February donation goal! Our goal was $200 and our generous viewers and members supported us with $215. Thank you to all of our donors: Eric Falls, Dale Granata, Sue, Leigh Elkins, Rosann, Phil Fortin, Jeanne, Arrelina Bernal, Stella, Anonymous, and HandsOnHomeschool Academy!

In March, we are going to try to reach $250. If you donate toward our March goal, you will be automatically entered into a raffle to win a $15 gift certificate to our online museum shop. Every $5 gets you one raffle ticket! So if you donate $20, you will be entered into the raffle four times. Donate today at bit.ly/march21goal

In our latest episode of Then Again, Glen discusses the geological history of Appalachia with geologist and professor Jim Buecheler from Northern Virginia Community College. Learn the effects of continental collisions, mountain formations, and more in this ROCKIN' episode! You can also follow Jim on his Twitch channel to watch his fascinating geology lessons at www.twitch.tv/geojim2006

Visit our website to listen to this episode (and all other episodes) at: thenagainpodcast.com

The brand new online Museum shop is now open! We have over 70 items currently in the store, with many more items soon to come. We also have discounts of up to 70% off on select books!

Visit our new store at: http://negahistorycenter.square.site

CJ Payne: Digital Studio Intern

My name is CJ Payne, I’m a recent graduate of the University of North Georgia. I got my bachelors’ degree in Film & Digital Media with a minor in Graphic Design. I’m passionate about bringing stories to life through editing videos. I love working on documentaries because true stories have much more of a lasting impact with their message, in my opinion. I am interning at the Northeast Georgia History Center because I want to gain more experience working as a video editor. I enjoy learning about the lifestyles of people in past time periods especially those from cultures other than my own like the Cherokee nation. There’s much to learn from people living in a different era than mine.

I love spending time on set with friends, watching movies, and hiking. I dabble with outdoor photography and take way too many pictures of my dog. I also love to read and take my dog for long walks.

Andrews Gless: Digital Studio Intern

Raised in North Georgia, I fell in love with music and movies at a young age. From action movies to historical biopics and classic hip-hop to opera, music and movies are something that I have always loved. History is very special to me. Apart from being one of my favorite subjects in school, I love learning about different figures and events through time. There is always a lesson about life that can be learned through the study of history.

I have a Bachelor's Degree in Film and Digital Media with a Production Concentration from the University of North Georgia, where I was able to work on several different award winning films throughout Georgia and the South, (A Devil in God's Country, Dead Winter, Halfway). I wanted to continue to hone my editing and production skills. The History Center offers the unique opportunity of being able to help produce different types of content for all ages with a variety of professionals. I hope that I will be able to assist in bringing more stories of North Georgia and the United States to life. I love good stories, great food and movies of all types. I'm an amateur vinyl collector, avid gamer and I can always be found sharing a laugh with my close friends and family.

From Cheryl and Jerry Vandiver in memory of Dinah Wayne, Jack Frost and Frank Norton Sr.

From Cathy and Tony Herdener in memory of Frank Norton Sr., Dinah Wayne, Jack Frost, Jackie Cooley, Jim Walters and Jo Ann Adams.

From Sandra Williams in memory of Jackie Cooley and Jack Frost.

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