#these pics do not do its smallness justice

[sanchoyo]

can we please have a picture of the live laugh love mr. worldwide banner? i'm so curious by your description of it

Oh of COURSE

I have no idea why someone would donate this to a thrift store bc I would Never get rid of him. He is next to my bed to protect me while I sleep :)

#sorry the lighting sucks but also I’m not getting up to turn the overhead light on I’m COZYMODE. its pink not red jsdhksfkj #I’m sure u can find this on redbubble or smth it’s a very. internet object yk #I have a LOT of weird little thrifted items like this around my room :3 this is possibly top five material tho #sanchoyoanswersasks #hope u love him as much as I do #also he’s huge the pic doesn’t do the scale of this thing justice I swear lol #I was shocked to find him in My Small Town….how did he get here what’s his STORY #theres a small blue paint splat on him too..who did that #im leaving it on of course bc it has character

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 11 - The Honeymoon (Part 3)

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: You and Neuvillette have a fun time in Merusea Village Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: This chapter is 13k words long so yeah, strap in Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out in Merusea Village

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 “Madame, are you feeling alright? Please let me know if we need to stop the boat somewhere for a short rest.”  

“I assure you, I’m fine. I stopped feeling nauseous a long time ago. The boat has been moving very smoothly so far.”  

Despite your repeated assurances, Neuvillette still looked slightly doubtful. He was probably going to ask this question again later.  

After lunch, Neuvillette took you to a small dock to the south of the willow tree, where there was a small, inconspicuous boat waiting to take you two to Elynas, where Merusea Village was located. The vishap had followed you and saw you off.   

Queasiness took hold of you once you got onto this boat. It was probably because you just had lunch. Luckily, the boat wasn’t going too fast. You suspected that it was on purpose.  

You glanced up at Neuvillette. Like the rowboat at the tree, this boat was smoothly cutting through the water of its own accord. You didn’t hear a motor, nor was there anyone at the wheel.   

Leaning back against the cushions of the seat that Neuvillette made you sit on after you first mentioned your dizziness, you closed your eyes. The warm sunlight felt like a comforting blanket despite being filtered through clouds, and the refreshing sea breeze stroked the hair at your nape like gentle fingers. The boat’s steady rocking was soothing, almost hypnotic. Ah, this is heaven. I’ve been missing out.   

The cry of a seabird near your ear caused you to open your eyes. You saw Neuvillette standing at the bow. His long snow-white hair was fluttering in the wind, along with his coat tails. He had his cup in his hand, no doubt filled with water. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but judging from the relaxed set of his shoulders, he was also enjoying himself.  

In another life, Neuvillette would make a fine ship captain, you idly thought as you observed his stately, erect figure. He certainly had the bearing of one. Or what you imagined a captain would be like from the various novels and books you read.   

Your fingers itched to paint him. You were already thinking about the composition and colors. This was strange. Usually, you didn’t really enjoy painting people. You didn’t even like doing self-portraits. Landscapes and buildings were more to your taste.   

As though sensing your gaze, Neuvillette turned around and looked at you. “We will be reaching Elynas in about an hour or so. Please, relax until then, Madame. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”  

“I am. Please stop asking,” you said firmly and resolutely fixed your gaze ahead. The sharp peaks of Elynas were still just a faint dot in the distance. You could see the shadows of ships gliding on the water. What would their passengers think if they saw the Chief Justice standing in this small, inconspicuous boat?  

You turned your head back in the direction of Erinnyes. All you could see now was the shoreline and verdant trees. It was as though that giant willow tree and vishap never existed in the first place. Like it was all a dream.   

The seat next to you sank down with Neuvillette’s weight. “Did you have fun at Erinnyes?”  

“Oh, I did!” you turned to him with a broad smile. Perhaps it was just your imagination, but you thought his pupils dilated slightly. “It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to. It’s so… so mystical. I wish we could have stayed longer.”  

Neuvillette let out a little chuckle. He put his hand to his mouth, as though to hide his expression. “I’m very glad to hear that. I hope the vishap didn’t spoil your mood.”  

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I was a little scared at first, sure, but she was actually very gentle. I did assume there would be more vishaps around, though.”  

“Most of them live underwater to hide from the sunlight and humans. I considered summoning them aboveground to introduce you to them, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”  

The thought of those large vishaps dwelling beneath the ground was somewhat disconcerting but thrilling at the same time. Erinnyes was supposed to have a complicated network of underground caverns. You supposed they lived there.   

Another thought occurred to you just then. “You can speak their language,” you turned to him. “Are you related to them in some way? Like…their overseer or something?”  

“Overseer…? Interesting choice of words,” Neuvillette stroked his chin, thinking your question over. “I would not call myself that, but I do watch over them, and they depend on me.”  

“I see,” you said. It didn’t escape your notice that he didn’t answer your question about whether or not he was related to them. You stared at his slitted eyes again. They did resemble vishaps’ eyes quite a lot. Could Neuvillette turn into a vishap? You couldn’t quite imagine it. If he could transform into something, you’d imagine that it would be something more majestic and graceful, like…  

Neuvillette cleared his throat. That was when you realized that you had been staring into his eyes for far too long. Hastily, you looked away, your gaze landing on the sparkling water.   

“I…I didn’t know that the Chief Justice’s duties also extend to looking after the wild creatures of the land,” you said. You hoped that you didn’t sound too flustered. “I don’t know how you manage it.”  

“Well, those wild creatures, as you called them, are also citizens of Fontaine, so they are under my purview in that sense. And also, the role of Chief Justice isn’t the only role I play.”  

You didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of elaborating. For a while, the two of you watched the neighboring shoreline move past you.  

Eventually, the back of the Opera Epiclese came into view. And in the distance, the Court of Fontaine loomed over the waters. Looking at it from here, you once again appreciated just how big it was. When you first moved there, it had taken you weeks to find your way around without getting lost.   

“What a great view of the city,” you said. “I’d love to take some pictures of it.”  

“Why don’t you, then?”   

“I’m afraid I’ll run out of film since I took so many pictures back at Erinnyes, so I want to save it for Merusea Village.”  

“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ve brought several rolls of film with me,” Neuvillette patted his pocket.  

“Oh, really! Don’t mind if I do, then.”  

You went to the cabin to get the Kamera, then proceeded to take pictures of the city from several angles. It certainly looked imposing, with its tall ramparts and the lofty Mont Esus looming in the background, but it was simply too gaudy and contemporary for your liking. Maybe it’ll look better in a few hundred years, when it’s all ruins. You found yourself focusing on the half-sunken beams and pillars poking out from beneath the water instead. Are those from the last flood period? I wonder what used to be there?  

You closed your eyes as you tried to recall what you read in The Divers’ Guide to Underwater Ruins. It had belonged to your old art teacher, a former adventurer, and you used to beg her to lend it to you after every lesson. I think that’s where the old Institute of Natural Philosophy used to be. How sad it is to think that so much research is forever lost.  

Although, you also felt a bubbling excitement in the pit of your stomach, as you always did whenever you thought about old, crumbling, forgotten ruins.  

“Madame, are you feeling ill?” Neuvillette’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. You opened your eyes and was met with lilac orbs filled with concern. You stepped back a little in surprise, not expecting his face to be so close to yours. You could smell the crisp scent of his cologne, although you weren’t expert enough to identify the ingredients. It was different from the one he wore at your wedding. It smells nice, though. Maybe I should start wearing perfume too.  

“I apologize for startling you,” Neuvillette said as he saw the look of alarm on your face. “You closed your eyes and had an odd expression on your face, so I was worried.”  

“Oh, it was nothing. I was simply lost in thought,” you waved your hands dismissively as you felt your heartbeat settle down to a normal rate. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable with being in close quarters with a man or anything. Neuvillette was still your husband, after all, so you should probably get used to it. It was simply that you were still coming to grips with the fact that you were on this little boat in the middle of the sea with the Chief Justice (who really did look quite resplendent. You should ask to take a picture of him. As a souvenir of this day, of course), and you couldn’t forget how different and warm and comforting it felt to be in his arms. That was all.  

“What were you thinking about?” he asked. He stepped a little bit closer, like he was actually curious.  

About old, crumbling, unexplored ruins and how the Court of Fontaine would look much better as a pile of rocks, you thought, but didn’t say it aloud. It was hardly a conversation topic for a date. And you were pretty sure you would be taken to the Fortress of Meropide for that second part.  

“I was just spacing out. It’s really nothing,” you said dismissively.   

Neuvillette nodded slowly and turned away. A shadow passed over him. It was cast by the aquabus railing, marking the halfway point of this journey.   

By the time the boat emerged from the other side, gray clouds were gathering in the sky. Neuvillette was still turned away from you. You bit your lip, regretting your tone. You hadn’t meant for it to come off so bluntly. Your mother often criticized you for not speaking softly and gently enough for a lady. You wished you had Neuvillette’s quiet, soothing voice. It never failed to calm you.   

Instead of researching honeymoon spots, I should have read more books on how to behave on a date, you inwardly lamented. You were not a charming, talkative person by nature. It took work on your part to pretend to be one. Probably because of this, your romantic history was non-existent.   

If only you were your sister…she seemed to have a way of lighting up any situation.   

It was funny. Mutually agreeing to be just friends was supposed to be make everything easier. Friendship was supposed to be easy and natural. There was no pretense between friends. Though you didn’t exactly have a large social circle back home, you did have a few close friends. But Neuvillette was nothing like your school friends or your old art teacher, by virtue of his position and status. And that wasn’t even mentioning the fact that you two were in a marriage of convenience.  

If only Lady Furina hadn’t gotten involved, we could have lived together quietly and peacefully as just friends until the year’s end. You felt a stab of resentment towards the Archon. Because of her, Neuvillette—and you, by extension—was forced into this awkward situation. She must have really riled him up. Why can’t she just be happy that Neuvillette is getting a “taste of matrimonial happiness” or whatever and leave it at that? …Then again, we haven’t exactly acted like a proper married couple until now. And even now...  

“Madame, here you are,” Neuvillette’s voice broke through your thoughts. He was holding a cup of water out to you. “Drinking water can ease seasickness.”  

You haven’t been feeling sick for some time now. What sort of look did I have on my face? You wondered, but accepted the cup anyways. The water was crisp and refreshing. It cleared your mind.  

There’s really no use in overthinking this, you concluded. The best thing I can do for Neuvillette is to go along with whatever he has planned for us and help keep the mood light and pleasant. I have no idea if Lady Furina is watching us or not, but one can never be sure.  

You considered for a moment what you could do, then stood up with the Kamera.   

Neuvillette’s eyes were fixed on the sea ahead. You remembered a story that Muirne, a Melusine who worked at the Palais Mermonia, told you about Neuvillette staring out at sea and causing a crowd of people to wonder if there was something going on out there. Looking at him now, you could understand how that happened. There was a magnetic intensity in his gaze that drew you to him. You had never seen that expression for yourself, though. Perhaps it was reserved for the sea.  

There were many things you didn’t know about him. He was fathomless like the ocean itself. What you saw now was only the surface. You couldn’t hope to catch even a glimpse of his depths. The thought gave you a strange restlessness.  

Just stop thinking, you told yourself firmly. Easy, casual. Remember that!  

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” you addressed him. “May I take a few pictures of you?”  

To your surprise, he readily agreed. You were under the impression that he didn’t like being photographed, considering the scarcity of his photos in the papers and his avoidance of being in public.  

“Should I pose or, ah, smile?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. Maybe he was like you, uncomfortable with being photographed.   

“No. All you have to do is to stand and look as you usually do,” you said, even as you find yourself curious about what sorts of poses Neuvillette would make. “Just stand against the railing and look out at sea. That would be perfect.”  

As you aimed the lens at Neuvillette and looked at him through the viewfinder, it struck you then that from an outsider’s point of view, you looked like a real couple, on a real date.  

Embarrassingly, the thought made your heart flutter.  

Except it wasn’t, really. It was a sham, all for show. It was like a play, almost, performed for an invisible audience. A farce for no one except the two of you (and the Hydro Archon).   

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re happy right now, a voice whispered in your mind. How long had it been since your heart felt so light?  

You weren’t sure if that made you more pathetic or not.  

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of these errant thoughts, and concentrated on taking pictures of Neuvillette. He really is very photogenic, you thought. Though he does a look a bit stiff. You put on what you thought was an encouraging smile to help him relax, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Whoops?  

After you were done, Neuvillette said, “I do hope the pictures will turn out well.”  

“I’m sure they will,” you said, putting the Kamera back down and flopping back down onto the bench. “There is no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery.”  

Neuvillette made a choked noise. He blinked rapidly and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Pardon me?”  

“‘There’s no finer pairing than a handsome man and beautiful scenery’?” you repeated your words, confused. Neuvillette still looked a bit stunned. You began to wonder if you had said something wrong. You meant it as an innocuous comment, but it could be taken the wrong way in the context of your relationship. Perhaps Neuvillette thought you meant something more by it. You should rectify things before a misunderstanding occurred.  

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Neuvillette beat you to the punch.  

“You…consider me handsome?”  

Now it was your turn to stare at him. “Of course I do?”  

“I-I see,” Neuvillette said in a low voice. He seemed awfully caught off guard by your words. That was strange. Surely he was used to receiving compliments on his looks? Whenever he made a rare public appearance, the papers always made sure to describe his looks in loving detail, and it was well known that he had a legion of fangirls, some of whom had even been sent to the Fortress of Meropide for their extreme behavior.  

“I mean, I consider you handsome in the same way that most Fontainians do, in an aesthetic sort of way. I don’t mean anything untoward, sir. Did you find what I said offensive?”  

“No,” Neuvillette said, then cleared his throat. He was looking at anywhere but you. You could have sworn that the tips of his ears turned red. He almost seemed embarrassed. “No, I was simply…simply surprised, that’s all.”  

“Surprised? Why?”  

“Because you…ah, never acted in a way that suggested that you did…” Neuvillette struggled to find the words to finish his sentence. Poor man, you were embarrassing him to death. “Admire my looks, so I assumed that you…did not think of me in that way.”  

You stared at him with your mouth agape, only to hastily close your mouth when you saw how flustered you were making him. So Neuvillette was aware of the effect that his looks had on people. “Wait, what about that time when I kept staring at you? That counts, right?”  

“No, it was different. It felt more as though you were trying to analyze me,” he said. He must be so used to the amorous stares of his admirers that he was able to differentiate between the different types of gazes. His brow wrinkled, as though recalling unpleasant memories. Most likely related to the more extreme side of his fans. Poor man , you thought again.  

“I see,” you nodded. “I am sorry if I caused any offence by never saying anything.”  

“It isn’t something I care a whit about,” Neuvillette said quickly. If you didn’t know him, you would have thought he was trying to convince himself. “I find the fixation on appearances quite baffling and needless, honestly.”  

“Really?” you gave him a once-over. He wasn’t wearing his usual judge’s garb, but he was still dressed much too formally for a casual outing like this. The afternoon sun gilded the edges of his white hair, which looked soft and silky to the touch. His hair care regimen must be intensive .   

“Yes, really,” he nodded. “I only put up with such standards because of the demands of my position.”  

Easy for someone as stunning as him to say, you thought, but felt no bitterness. Maybe it was because he sounded truly sincere.   

Perhaps it was that sincerity that spurred you on to say what you said next.  

“Even so, I think there’s nothing wrong with complimenting someone on their looks, especially when they look as radiant as you,” you struggled to find the right words. You were never much of a writer. “Looking at you…reminds me of the mountains near my home. I liked seeing them every day. They never fail to take my breath away.”  

A thought popped into your head. Wait, a comparison to the sea would have been more apt here. But truth be told, you didn’t have any strong connection to the sea. Mountains, on the other hand, have been the constant backdrop for your childhood, so that was why they were the first thing that popped into your mind.  

A thrill of elation shot through your heart. Back in your old ball-attending days, your family would advise you to compliment potential partners on their appearance and dress. You tried, but somehow it always seemed to not land correctly. Perhaps it was your tone or the way you spoke. With Neuvillette, you had put all your sincerity and goodwill into your words, and it seemed to have worked.   

Neuvillette had always been nothing but courteous and gentlemanly towards you. It was time that you repaid the favor.  

The loud cry of a sea bird at the front of the boat drew your attention, and you spun around, your back facing him. Elynas was just up ahead.  

As you admired the white ridges of the mountains in your jubilation, you were completely ignorant of your husband’s intense, heated gaze aimed at the back of your head and the rapidly clearing clouds.   

“Welcome to Merusea Village, Monsieur and Madame Neuvillette!”  

A high-pitched chorus greeted you at the entrance of the underwater village.  

You surveyed the crowd of Melusines before you, still reeling from the journey here and what happened on the boat. Your hand was still tingling.   

The Melusines immediately surrounded the two of you, talking over each other.   

“Your wife is so pretty, Monsieur Neuvillette!”  

“I wish you invited us to the wedding!”  

“Does this mean you’re our new mother?”  

“When are you going to have a baby?”  

The last two questions took by complete surprise. “P-Pardon me??” you spluttered.  

Neuvillette, noticing how flustered you were, cleared his throat. “Everyone, I understand that you’re all excited to meet Madame Neuvillette, but you’re overwhelming her by coming up to her all at once.”  

The Melusines looked sheepish. “Sorry, Madame,” they said in unison.  

“There’s no need to apologize,” you said, although you were still not over the whole “mother” thing (your mind had automatically blocked out the baby question. You were still trying to wrap your head around the whole “being married” thing). You knew that the Melusines saw Neuvillette as their father and that he treated them as though they were his own daughters, but you hadn’t thought about how you factored into these relationships. I mean, in that sense, I guess I’m their stepmother…?  

Having spent much time with the Melusines recently, you had begun to think of them as your little sisters.   

 A blue Melusine with brown hair stepped forward. “Monsieur Neuvillette is right, everyone,” she said in a tone that you immediately recognized to be that of a big sister. “We should all introduce ourselves to Madame one by one. I’ll go first. I’m Serene.”  

The others followed her example and introduced themselves. You tried your best to remember them all. Cosanzeana, Iara, Sedile, Virda…  

“Madame,” Sedene said. “Shall we give you a tour of the village?”  

“Yes, please do,” you said. The Melusines happily grabbed your hands and led you to the opening of the cave.  

You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you laid eyes on the enchanting sight before you. The contrast between the gloomy and dangerous Elynas above and this cozy and adorable underwater village was incredible. You had seen pictures of the village, but they failed to completely capture its charm, from the cupcake-shaped stone houses to their bubbling chimneys. The gentle light cascading down from above bequeathed a mysterious air to the village that made your heart leap. It looked just like the fairy villages in the picture books you loved as a child.   

You wasted no time in taking pictures. The Melusines were delighted by the presence of your Kamera and asked if you could take photos of them as well, which you happily agreed to. So, the tour became a rather sluggish one as the Melusines led you around the village, taking turns to point out which house belonged to who, pointing out all the interesting spots and showing you their little knickknacks. You dutifully complied with their picture-taking requests. It was an absorbing process. You almost fancied yourself as an anthropologist, documenting the culture of an unknown civilization.  

Neuvillette seemed content to hang back and let the Melusines take over. He, like you, was also surrounded by a gaggle of the little creatures. Whenever you glanced back, he was always in the midst of patting their heads or picking them up in his arms. You could hear him inquiring about them and their eager answers.    

The party made its way past a basin. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to call it a passageway, since it appeared to be bottomless. “This is how we go to the underwater part of the village,” a pink Melusine named Xana explained.   

You peered down. You could just make out the blurry gray shapes of houses. It reminded you of the small pool that you arrived here from. Neuvillette told you that it was a secret shortcut that not many people knew about. It certainly lived up to its status as a shortcut, since you ended up at the bottom of the water in the blink of an eye, before you could even register the fact that Neuvillette had wrapped his arms around your waist and asked you to close your eyes and hold your breath for a few seconds as he dove into the water with you.  

You felt your face turn slightly warm as you recalled the feeling of his arms around you and being pressed against his chest. He was more muscular than he looked, under all that loose-flowing fabric.   

You stole another glance at him. He was in the middle of examining Xana’s collection of shiny things that she was proudly holding out to him. Sensing your gaze, he looked up and met your eyes.  

Before you could look away, he walked up to you. “What is it, Madame?”  

“Um…” you fumbled for something to say, something that wasn’t related to Neuvillette’s strong, comforting arms or his broad chest. “I was wondering if we could go visit the underwater part of the village.”  

“Underwater?” Neuvillette repeated. The corners of his lips turned downward. “I would dearly love to, but I don’t believe you can hold your breath for that long.”  

“Oh, I see,” you felt a little disappointed, but there was nothing you could do. You’ve always had a fascination with underwater structures and ruins and the like, but it seemed that you could only see them in pictures.  

“Can you swim, Madame?” Xana asked.  

“Yes, but not very well. I can only stick to shallow water,” you said. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a very good swimmer, though. We got all the way down here in seconds. It’s like he was born for it.”  

The Melusines looked at each other and giggled, like they were sharing a secret.   

The tour made its final stop at the entrance of a conjoining cavern. You spotted a small house some distance away. “That’s where Mamere lives,” Serene pointed at it. “She’s out of the village getting materials for her paints right now, though.”  

“I was wondering where she was,” Neuvillette mused. “Is she still keeping to herself most of the time?”  

“Yeah, I told her that she needed to stay in the village since today’s a special day, but you know how it is with that kid…” Serene let out a long-suffering sigh that you emphasized with as a fellow older sister. “She does whatever she wants.”  

“Who’s Mamere?” you asked.  

It was a Melusine named Topyas who answered. “She’s a painter like you, Madame! I don’t really get her paintings, though.”  

“Yeah, what’s the word humans use again—abstract? Her paintings are very different from yours. Madame’s paintings are much easier to understand,” Xana said.  

“Oh?” That surprised you. You never thought that the drawings you did for practice for make it this far across the nation. “You’ve seen my paintings? Did the Melusines from the city show them to you?”  

“No, it was Monsieur Neuvillette. He showed them to us when he came here before.”  

“He did?” you looked at him. He nodded. You thought he looked a bit bashful.   

“I hope that is okay with you,” he said. “I wanted all the Melusines to see them.”  

“Well…um, I have no problem with it,” you looked down at your feet. It was funny. You never had much attachment to your paintings and considered them to be adequate enough to be part of your portfolio, but having them shown around like this almost made you wonder if there was something in them Neuvillette and the Melusines saw that you didn’t see. “I’m just worried that they’re too boring for your tastes. They’re just landscapes of my hometown, after all.”  

The Melusines disagreed vehemently. “But they’re so pretty. It feels like I’m right there when I’m looking at them,” Iara said, clapping her hands together.  

“I really love the sunflowers,” Cosanzeana said wistfully. “I wish I could grow them down here, but they need the sun. You’re so lucky that you get to live in a place with so many flowers.”  

“Is that so? I think you’re the lucky ones, getting to live in this beautiful village,” you gestured around. If you had the chance to live near the skeleton of a giant beast, you’d never leave. Of course, you did not say that out loud.  

“Monsieur Neuvillette also said that you’re very modest, Madame,” Serene said.   

“Oh, really?” you looked at Neuvillette again. He avoided your gaze this time. “What else did he say about me?”  

“He told us that you’re—"  

Neuvillette cleared his throat a bit too loudly. “Oh, that reminds me, we prepared a feast for you!” Serene said quickly. You could hear amusement in her voice. “Are you two hungry?”  

“I’m not,” you said.  

“Nor am I. Your sandwiches were very filling, Madame,” Neuvillette said.  

“Madame made sandwiches for you, Monsieur?” a Melusine asked.  

“She did, and they were delicious,” Neuvillette said, smiling at you. Really, this man… “I only wish she made more so we can share them with all of you.”  

The Melusines looked at you with expectant eyes. Looks like you’ve just been volunteered for more sandwich-making duties in the near future. “How about this? Why don’t you all come to Monsieur Neuvillette’s house when the sunflowers are in full bloom? I’ll make plenty of sandwiches for all of you then. And Monsieur Neuvillette can entertain all of you while you’re there,” you gave him your sweetest smile. “If it’s okay with you, of course.”  

Neuvillette looked a bit dazed as he stared at your face. Perhaps you had gone a bit too far. There were a lot of Melusines here, after all. But then he blinked and shook his head slightly, like he was awakened from a trance. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. We’ll send the invitations here when the time comes.”  

Overjoyed by the invitation, the Melusines quickly began to chat amongst themselves over what to wear and what to bring. As it was still mid-afternoon and neither you nor Neuvillette were hungry yet, it was decided that you would spend your time leisurely until evening arrived.   

So for the next few hours, you played and chatted with the Melusines. You had expected them to ask you endless questions about your marriage, but they didn’t. Perhaps Neuvillette had told them something beforehand, saving you the trouble of coming up with answers. Playing with the Melusines brought back fun memories of your days assisting at the schoolhouse back home. For some reason, they were infinitely fascinated by your life and hometown up above. You told them about the fields of wildflowers, the majestic mountains you played in when you were a child, and even a bit about your life in the city. They stroked their mitten-like hands along the fabric of your skirt and exclaimed over it like it was made of spun gold. They admired the flower in your hair and squealed over the fact that Neuvillette had a matching one in his hair.   

Up until now, you had always considered your life to be drab and hopeless. It wasn’t even tragic, just lackluster. At home, you were overlooked in favor of your sister, and in high society, you were invisible. It wasn’t lost on you that your life could be much worse. However, as destined as you were for a life of quiet spinsterhood, it could still be amended. You could still have shreds of your childhood aspirations, molded into adult reality.  

That was why you adopted an attitude of always looking forward and never dwelling on the past for too long. Staying too long in one spot would only trap you there forever. You’ve read all sorts of stories about old gods and heroes who met their downfall by clinging too much to the past. You were nowhere near their level, of course, but your old art teacher told you that all the most valuable lessons were learned from history, and you trusted her with all your heart.  

But being with the Melusines—being with Neuvillette—was starting to make you see the color in your black-and-white life. You were beginning to see that there was something beyond the constrained life you were born into and destined for.   

Don’t lose sight of your goal. Don’t forget who you are. The little voice in your head warned you. Thinking of your future plans always managed to clear your heart and refresh your mind. But now, it sounded strangely muffled compared to before.  

Speaking of Neuvillette, you looked around for him. Currently, you were resting on a bench. He had wanted to stay with you, but you encouraged him to play with the Melusines. This was one of his rare visits, after all. You spotted him with some Melusines by the waterfall. Laume—the Melusine who wanted to be a journalist, if you remembered correctly—was holding the Kamera and instructing him to pose. You watched as he placed his hand on his hip and held up his hand in a peace sign. He really does indulge them. You knew that he had a soft, paternal side he showed only to the Melusines, but having it displayed before you like this was something else.  

More Melusines came up to him, wanting to take pictures with him. He patted their heads with a fond smile. A lucky few even got the chance to ride on his shoulders. His affection for the Melusines was evident in his every expression and gesture. And it was clear that the Melusines reciprocated that love just as much.  

“I hope you aren’t too tired out by the kids,” Serene said, sitting next to you. “They can be a handful.”  

“It’s all right, I’ve done this kind of thing before,” you waved your hand. “I’m more worried about you. Shouldn’t you be playing with Monsieur Neuvillette like the others instead of running around taking care of everyone?”  

You’ve learned that Serene was indeed the big sister of the Melusines here, the one who looked after everyone and sent reports to Neuvillette about the goings-on of the village. She really was a big sister.  

“That’s my job, after all. I’ve got to take it seriously, just like how Monsieur Neuvillette always takes his job seriously,” Serene said matter-of-factly, but you could hear the admiration in her voice.   

“But it’s good to take breaks sometimes. Even Monsieur Neuvillette does, like today.”  

“Today…” Serene mused. Then she smiled. “You know, Madame, when we learned that he was bringing you with him to the village, we were so happy. We thought, ‘Finally, Monsieur Neuvillette has someone by his side.’”  

“Someone by his side?” you repeated. “But he has all of you, doesn’t he?”  

But even as you say it, you thought that you understood what Serene meant. You had the same thoughts before.   

“What I mean is, someone who can share his worries and burdens. Someone he can be himself with. I don’t know much about how human marriages work, but I think that’s what it’s supposed to be, right? I’m so happy that Monsieur Neuvillette has finally found someone like that. You must be really special.”   

You looked away from the Melusine, biting your lip. Serene didn’t know the circumstances surrounding this marriage, of course. She didn’t know that it was based on pity and self-interest. She didn’t know that you and him were simply wading in shallow water, never intending to go deeper than that. She didn’t know that even for this trip, it was an obligation handed down to him by the Archon, not something he did because he wanted to, or that there was something he was refusing to tell you for reasons you didn’t understand.  

You didn’t say any of this out loud. Instead, you forced a smile. “I’m really not all that special,” you said.  

“But Monsieur Neuvillette thinks you are, Madame! You should have heard how he talked about you. And his face! I’ve never seen him look like that before.”  

“What did he say about me?” you asked, curious. You couldn’t imagine it.  

“Oh…I shouldn’t. I don’t want to embarrass him,” Serene giggled. “But trust me, they were all good things. And he was right, you’re as wonderful and lovely as he described!”  

Wonderful and lovely? Those were two words that better described your sister, not you. You almost wondered if Neuvillette had been talking about someone else.  

Just then, a Melusine ran up to you. “Madame! Come take a picture with us!”  

“Okay, I’m coming,” you answered, then took Serene’s hand. “Come on, let’s go take some pictures.”  

The crowd of Melusines immediately made room for you to stand next to Neuvillette. You glanced up at him. Despite having to keep up with the Melusines’ seemingly boundless energy for so long, he didn’t look the slightest bit fatigued.     

“Are you feeling more rested, Madame?” he whispered as you positioned yourself next to him. “Hungry yet?”  

“Yes to the first question, and no, I’m not hungry yet,” you whispered back. “Are you?”  

“I also am not hungry,” he answered. There was a short pause before he asked another question. “…Are you enjoying yourself?”  

“Of course I am,” you said in surprise, for he sounded genuinely troubled. “Why do you ask?”  

“It is just that…” Neuvillette trailed off, as though searching for the right words. “I couldn’t help but notice that you had a rather grave expression on your face when you were chatting with Serene.”  

He could see your expression from all the way over here? You looked at the other side of the village, where the bench you had been sitting. His eyesight must be incredible.   

“Oh, there’s nothing to worry about,” you said airily. “We were just chatting. And that’s how my face always looks. But why were you looking over at us, anyways, when you have all these charming young ladies around you?”  

One of the Melusines in front of you giggled and turned around. “That’s because he was feeling lonely without you, Madame!” she chirped.   

“Yeah, that’s why he keeps looking in your direction!” Another Melusine chimed in.   

“Is that true, Monsieur Neuvillette?” you looked back at him. His face was kept carefully smooth and expressionless, but you could see spots of color in his cheeks. “Can you really not bear a single minute away from me?”  

“I…” Neuvillette looked as though he wanted to take off and leave right there and then. But he ended up being saved from having to come up with an answer by Laume.  

“Okay, everyone! I finally figured out how to use the timer!” she announced. “Now, we can all take a group picture together!”  

Wow, I didn’t know Kameras from back then had timers, you thought as Laume directed the Melusines to cluster together as closely as possible so that they could all be captured by the Kamera’s lens. You and Neuvillette eventually ended up in a position where you were basically pressed against each other.  

“Madame,” you heard him whisper into your ear. Despite this not even being the first time, your heart never failed to beat just a little faster. “May I put my arm around you?”  

You looked up at him. His lilac eyes bored into your own, exerting an invisible force. You nodded, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting just above your hip. You could feel the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric and into your skin. The weight of it made you feel twitchy and lightheaded. It felt like every nerve in your body was concentrated there in that one spot.  

“Get ready, everyone! The Kamera’s about to go off in five seconds! Smile!” Laume shouted. She proceeded to run back to the crowd. Just then, you felt him tighten his grip imperceptibly, drawing you towards him. Your head brushed against his shoulder.  

The Kamera flashed, capturing this moment in time forever. With that, the crowd dispersed, and Neuvillette let go of your waist. You could still feel the shadow of his touch. You stared after him, wanting to say something, but didn’t know what.    

A pink Melusine called out to him. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, could we please play with your hair now?”  

“Why, certainly,” Neuvillette said. The Melusines cheered.  

“Madame, have you ever played with Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair before?” one of them asked.  

“I haven’t,” you said, causing them to gasp in surprise.    

They insisted that you be granted the honor of touching Neuvillette’s hair first, despite your protestations. As for the man in question, he had no problem with it, although his mind seemed to be somewhere else. And so was yours, for that matter. You just couldn’t figure him out, and it bothered you greatly. Were friendships supposed to be this complicated? You thought that once you and Neuvillette agreed to be friends, things would be so much easier between the two of you now. In some ways, it was, but it also wasn’t, as it was in this case.   

Why am I feeling so strangely about this? You wondered to yourself. He just put his arm around me, that’s all. Why, just today, he carried me in his arms when we came down here and kissed the back of my hand because I complimented him (an overreaction, but I can understand the logic behind it). And I did run into his arms and cling to him (only because I was startled by the vishap)…I suppose the difference is that I can’t think of any conceivable reason that he would put his arm around me back there.  

Stop overthinking, you told yourself once again. It’ll just give you a headache. Remember, easy and casual!  

“Madame…Madame!” High-pitched voices pierced through your thoughts. Before you knew it, you were sitting on the stone bench again. Neuvillette was perched on the end, his back facing you. The ends of his tied hair were resting on the stone surface. His pure white locks reminded you of untrodden snow, too pristine to touch. You uneasily wondered if you should wash your hands first.  

“I brought the hair things!” Cosanzeana announced, bringing over a box. It contained combs, brushes, ribbons, and various other hair ornaments. It seemed that this was a favorite activity of the Melusines. Neuvillette was evidently used to it as well, for he was sitting quietly with his back erect and his hands clasped in his lap.  

It was somewhat unnerving to have an audience of bright, inhuman eyes watch you, but you got on with it. You slowly undid the black ribbon at the end of his hair and placed it by your side, then leaned forward to remove the feathered hairclip and Lamplight Lily tucked near his temple. You tried your best not to touch his skin, but he probably didn’t feel it.  

His hair was even more stunning unbound. You couldn’t help but smile as you ran your fingers through the silky strands. You couldn’t lie to yourself—there were times when you were tempted to touch his beautiful hair, and now one of your secret dreams had come true.   

“Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair is so lovely, isn’t it?” Serene said, beaming.  

“It sure is,” you said. His hair had an awful tendency to get tangled and snagged in the smallest cracks and crevices, so you’ve always wondered why he didn’t cut it short for practicality’s sake. But honestly, if you had his hair, you would let it grow freely and run through the forest like a woodland creature, feeling your hair stream in the wind behind you. “I hope he never cuts it. It would be a tragedy for Fontaine when that happens.”  

Your comment caused a horrified gasp to rise from the Melusines. “Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, promise us that you’ll keep your hair as it is!” a few of them pleaded.  

“I will not,” he assured them. “I prefer my hair the way it is as well.”  

“They should pass a law that forbids scissors from being within three meters of Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair,” you said as you began to run the seashell comb through his hair.   

“An interesting idea, though frivolous,” Neuvillette said. “I hardly think an edict like that would be much accepted among the people.”  

“I think you’d be surprised at how many people are invested in your hair,” you said as you worked through a knot, trying to be as gentle as you could. You were thinking about an old classmate of yours who was obsessed with Neuvillette’s “luscious, pearlescent locks of moonlight” (the girl who coined that phrase would go on to write for the Steambird) and wondered what she would say if she saw you now.  “And I don’t see how this law is any more frivolous than not being allowed to place fruit tarts on unheated trays or put unfinished Fonta in the middle of the road.”  

“You’ve been reading up on the laws of Fontaine, Madame?” Neuvillette sounded genuinely surprised. “You never shown much interest in judicial affairs.”   

“I am your wife, after all,” you said. And there’s not much else besides legal codices to read in your house, you added silently. A trip to the library was due. “It’s perfectly normal for a wife to take a little interest in her husband’s work, isn’t it? Some of it is actually quite interesting.”  

You weren’t sure how much the Melusines knew about the truth of your marriage, but you thought you should at least put on the façade. Neuvillette didn’t say anything in response.   

You tried to be as gentle as you could as you untangled the knots and snarls. Inwardly, you marvelled at how healthy and well-maintained his hair was. What is his haircare regimen? You once again wondered as you idly twirled a lock around your index finger. It even smelled nice. You had the urge to bury your face in his hair. I bet he’s the type who only uses soap to wash his hair. It must be a pain to brush it in the morning, though.     

The long, blue ornaments were getting in the way. You grabbed them at the ends and pressed them down, but they bounced back up. Thinking that you should take them out, you looked for the place where they were clipped into his hair, only to find to your amazement that they were attached to his head.  

You rubbed the ornaments between your fingers. They didn’t feel like they were made of synthetic materials. Were they…?  

You heard a low grunt. “M-Madame…w-what are you doing?” Neuvillette sounded different. His voice was breathy, strained-sounding. Did you pull on his hair too hard?   

“I wanted to move these blue hair ornaments, but…these aren’t ornaments, are they?”  

“They are not.”  

“Are they antennae, then? Or feelers?”   

There was a brief silence. “They are horns ,” Neuvillette said at last. He sounded offended.  

“Oh…” you looked at them again. What sort of creature would have such floppy horns, you thought, remembering how they fluttered about in the wind. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”  

“You’ve never asked.”   

“I see,” you said. “I’m sorry if I caused you pain.”  

“You did not. It’s just that my horns are very…sensitive to touch, so please tell me beforehand if you are going to touch them.”  

“Oh…okay,” You didn’t know what else to say. You hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way, and you were very glad that Neuvillette couldn’t see your face right now.  

“Madame’s face is red!” a Melusine yelled. You turned and found a crowd of wide eyes flitting between you and Neuvillette.  

You cleared your throat. “Who wants to help me braid Monsieur Neuvillette’s hair?” you said in an overly cheerful voice.  

“Ooh, me, me!” the Melusines pressed forward eagerly. You inwardly let out a sigh of relief for diffusing the awkward situation, completely failing to notice the rosy flush that appeared on Neuvillette’s pale cheeks and the tensing of his neck.  

With Neuvillette’s hair as the medium, you demonstrated various hairstyles—braids, ponytails, twin tails, and so on. It brought back fond memories of doing your sister’s hair. The Melusines happily helped with gathering flowers and ribbons to adorn Neuvillette’s hair. Much fun was had, and many pictures were taken. Neuvillette remained admirably composed upon seeing the monstrosities done to his hair in the mirror, but fortunately for him, no one else would ever see these sights.  

Eventually, you felt hungry, and it was decided that dinner would be served shortly. As you were letting down Neuvillette’s hair, Topyas asked you a question. “Madame, why don’t you call Monsieur Neuvillette by just his name?”  

“Well…” you had to think about it. Neuvillette, who had been shifting slightly, stilled. “It just feels a bit odd to not call him by his title. He’s such a great, accomplished man after all.”  

“But aren’t you two married? I thought married couples call each other by their nicknames.”  

“Everyone’s different,” you said, brushing Neuvillette’s hair. “Monsieur Neuvillette has always been Monsieur Neuvillette to me. He never calls me by my name either.”  

“Huh, now that I think about it…” Topyas said, putting her hand on her chin. “That does make sense. It does feel a bit too formal, though.”  

“Madame can call me whatever she feels most comfortable with,” Neuvillette said. “As I do with her.”  

You tied the black ribbon to the end of his hair and returned the hair accessories to their original positions. You felt a complicated mix of emotions swirling within you.  

Melusine cuisine was not what you expected. When the dishes were first served to you, you wondered if you were being poisoned. The meat was green and purple, and the dead eyes of the fish sticking out of the pie—it was called Poissonchant Pie, if you remembered correctly—briefly made you consider swearing off fish and pies for the rest of your life. And the scent was...stimulating, to say the least. Was this even edible , you wondered. You looked over at Neuvillette to see what he was going to eat.  

“Why, this all looks delicious,” he said, surveying the dishes and smiling at the expectant crowd. “Thank you all for this wonderful meal.”  

“Um...yes. Thank you, everyone,” you said.  

Then, he elegantly brought a forkful of meat to his mouth, his eyes closed. In pleasure or resignation, you couldn’t tell. It didn’t seem to have any ill effects on him, but then again, he was not human, so it stood to reason that he had a stronger stomach than you.   

Unfortunately, the sandwiches were all finished, and the Melusines were looking at you with their expectant bright eyes. You steeled yourself (and your stomach) and took a bite out of the oddly colored meat. Well, if I do get violently sick, at least Neuvillette is here. He can take me to the best doctors.   

You forced yourself to chew and swallow. Surprisingly, the meat didn’t taste spoiled. In fact, it was quite good. You took another bite.  

“Do you like my food, Madame?” the chef, Lutine, asked.  

“Yes. It’s very good. You’re an excellent cook,” you said.   

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that!” she said with a sigh of relief. “Humans are put off by our dishes because of their appearances, so most of them don’t know how delicious our food actually is!”  

“They’re definitely missing out,” you assured her, then sampled the pie. It was also very good, despite the eerie feeling that the fish were about to break into song. “There’s a lot of food here, though. I hope I can finish it all.”  

“Monsieur Neuvillette only visits us here a few times a year, including his birthday,” Lutine explained. “So I make as many dishes as I could whenever he comes, so he can taste them all.”  

“He only visits you a few times a year?” you repeated incredulously, looking at him. “Is he so busy?”  

“Yes, he is. He almost never takes vacations,” it was Sedile, a Marechausee Phantom agent, who answered this time. “But now that he has you, Madame, maybe you can convince him to rest more.”  

“Maybe,” you said vaguely, but you doubted you had that much influence on him. Next to you, Neuvillette continued to eat, not saying anything.  

After the meal, you decided to take a private stroll in the side cavern where Mamere’s house was located. Neuvillette was being detained by the Melusines, so you slipped out when they weren’t looking.  

Watching him and the Melusines made you feel a mix of emotions. It was gladdening to see him being surrounded by creatures who adored him so openly and unconditionally, but it also made you feel a bit lonely, like you were a star orbiting a sun on the outskirts of its gravitational field. He was much more relaxed with them as well, compared to when he was with you. It was almost as though you were seeing his real self.  

It’s only natural, you thought to yourself. He and the Melusines have a long history together, and you’re just an outsider he didn’t even know existed until a few months ago. Besides, it’s hard to be so serious and formal with them.   

There was no point in feeling gloomy. The sights here were far more interesting. You didn't have the Kamera with you, but that didn’t matter. You took enough pictures for one day. You just wanted to be alone with your thoughts and get some respite from all the bustle.   

“Madame,” Neuvillette chose that moment to join you. “My apologies for leaving you all alone. But you mustn’t go off on your own like this. You can easily get lost in these caverns.”  

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “I’ll stay close to the village. Please, feel free to go be with the Melusines. You’re their father, after all. I’ll join you later.”  

“But we are on a date. It's highly ill-mannered of me to leave you alone.”  

"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette, there’s no need to keep up this pretense of a date. I do appreciate everything you’re doing and how seriously you’re taking this, but you should be concerned about your own relaxation more. You don’t visit Merusea Village as often as you would like, do you? You should make the most of your time here before we go back. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m used to it.”  

You thought you sounded dependable and logical, but the look in Neuvillette’s eyes spoke otherwise. They were filled with alarm. His mouth moved, as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. It was then that you knew that you had definitely said something wrong.  

But before you could say anything, Neuvillette seemed to have finally found his words. “...Have I done something wrong?” His voice was a low whisper, but every word was transmitted to your ears clearly. It raised the hair on the back of your neck.  

“W-What do you mean?” you frowned. “Of course not. You’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me today.”  

“What is it, then? Is this place not to your liking? Do you wish to go home now?” He took a step towards you, and you reflexively backed up. Neuvillette was looking down at you, his eyes piercing into your own. It didn’t strike you until then just how tall he was, and how intimidating he could be when he wanted to. Is this what criminals see? You thought even as your heartbeat hammered in your ears.  

“No, not at all. I love this place and everyone here!” you shook your head vigorously. “I wish we could stay longer.”   

“Then why are you pushing me away?” The usual silkiness in his voice was gone, replaced by something rougher and unfamiliar. You felt your heart beginning to beat quickly, your hands becoming slick with sweat. He took another step towards you. You stepped backwards once again and found yourself backed up against a pink wall.  

“I-I’m not pushing you away! It’s just that I need a little bit of alone time to recover my energy after socializing with so many people, and there is no need for you to stick with me. It has nothing to do with you and the Melusines, and everything to do with me. I’m sure you understand that, don’t you, sir?”  

“I do,” he said. “Indeed, I understand. But what I don’t understand is your insistence on there being no ‘need’ for me to stay by your side. If you ask it of me, I would be happy to accompany you in silence.”  

“But I would not be,” you said. “Like I said before, this isn’t a real date, and we...aren’t a real couple. You don’t have to always be with me, especially since you don’t take a lot of personal holidays. I would rather you spend the free time you have with someone who isn’t as boring as me.”  

You stated the last part matter-of-factly. It was simply the truth.  

However, it seemed to have been the wrong thing to say.  

Neuvillette stepped even closer to you. He bent down, his face so close to yours that your noses were practically touching.  

“…Did Furina approach you?” he said, his voice as low as the bottom of the sea.  

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Why was he bringing up Furina all of a sudden?   

“She hasn’t,” you said after a pause.  

Neuvillette’s intense gaze roved your face, as though to search for any signs of lying. You did your best to stare back at him. At last, he let out a breath and nodded slowly.   

“Now,” you gritted out, putting all the force you could muster in your voice. “Could you please step away from me?”  

At last, he seemed to realize that he was practically pinning you against the wall and quickly stepped back. A look of shame flashed across his face.  

“My apologies,” he said at last. “I did not know what came over me.”  

“Me neither,” you said curtly. “It’s very unlike you. Why did you ask me if Lady Furina approached me, anyways?”  

Neuvillette did not answer, though you saw his jaw tense. His gaze flitted away from you. He seemed to have said something he shouldn’t have.   

You pondered over it all. His question, his behavior over this past week, his fixation on being boring...it all clicked into place.  

“Oh, it all makes sense now,” you said. Neuvillette’s face snapped back to yours. “Lady Furina called me boring and dull, didn’t she?”  

Neuvillette’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.  

“Is that all she said about me?”  

“...Yes.”   

“I see,” you nodded. It all made sense now. How ridiculous this whole situation was. It felt like a heavy load had been lightened. “So it was nothing, really.”  

“You’re not offended?” Neuvillette looked so confused that you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He flinched.  

“Why would I be offended by the truth? It’s impressive how she was able to figure out my personality despite never meeting me. I suppose that’s to be expected of an Archon.”  

“It is not true at all. She has no right to falsely disparage someone she has never met. You have every right to be angry. I will ask her to apologize to you.”  

“There’s no need to go that far,” you exclaimed in shock. Furina was his superior, so you didn’t want to be the cause of conflict between the two of them, even though you doubted she would ever fire him. “Look, Monsieur Neuvillette, I know I’m not a very interesting person. Lady Furina isn’t the first person to call me boring. Plenty of others have before her as well. I’m used to it. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you know, to be called that. And—”  

You broke off your sentence there, upon seeing the expression on his face. There was a deep furrow between his brows, and his jaw was clenched tightly. He looked...angry.  

“Others have insulted you as well?” he said slowly. You found yourself suddenly fearing for the lives of those young ladies and gentlemen from so long ago.   

“Well, I-I wouldn’t call it being insulted, e-exactly,” you stammered. Neuvillette’s eyes seemed to pin you in place. Grabbing onto whatever came to mind and vocalizing it was the only way to break the spell. “I-It’s just that my interests and hobbies aren’t what you call ‘in vogue,’ and you know, at balls, what most people want to talk about is the latest gossip and plays and fashion and things like that, all of which I’m woefully ignorant about. And, you know, I’m not beautiful, witty, or fashionable enough to make up for that, so really, it’s only natural for people to find me uninteresting. I don’t have much to offer.”  

Oh, how wonderful. You hadn’t expected that your date would end up with you unearthing all your long-buried insecurities. A feeling of despair welled up within you. So much for maintaining a pleasant atmosphere. Of course, you would be the one to ruin this day.  

“I don’t care anymore, though,” you hurriedly added, trying to salvage this in any way you could. “It’s all in the past now, when I was a teenager. In fact, I think having a plain personality is a benefit for the line of work I’ve chosen, so it all works out in the end. Like I said before, sir, being boring isn’t a crime and—”  

“But you were hurt before,” Neuvillette interrupted. His eyes reminded you of rippling pools of water. You wanted to run away, but it was as though your legs had turned into stone. “And you are still hurt.”  

“No, I told you, I’m completely over it! It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s nothing but petty teenage angst.”  

“If you are over it, as you say, then why are you fixated on the idea that I would be bored with you. Even if it is in the past, it still occurred, and you continue to be affected by it. You have every right to be angry, to hold a grudge against those people.”  

Now you recognized that additional emotion in his eyes. It was sadness. His eyes were rippling with unshed tears, and his lips were pressed tightly together.   

He looked like he was about to cry.  

You were utterly baffled. Why did he seem more upset than you about this? You had told him the truth. Those feelings of sadness, inferiority, and self-loathing were buried deep inside you long ago. You had made sure of it. Compared to the teenaged you from so long ago, you now felt lighter, as free as a bird.  

“I...I don’t understand,” you whispered. Your voice came out a rasp. “Why do you care so much, sir? I’m sure you’ve seen people who suffered far worse than me."  

“Why would I not care?” Neuvillette said. He placed his large, gloved hands on your shoulders. The gentle but firm weight of them made something within you unfurl. “You are someone dear to me. I cannot forgive anyone who has hurt you, even if they are the Archon herself. It does not matter how minor a slight it may be. Your feelings should be valued as much as anyone else’s. And...it pains me deeply when I hear you talk about yourself in such a way, that you believe them.”  

Long buried memories resurrected themselves and flashed through your mind.   

Of disinterested eyes sizing you up, then passing over you like you weren’t even there, landing on girls much more beautiful, girls you could never hope to be.  

Of barely concealed bored looks, looking past you to someone much more interesting.  

Of incredulous sneers and raised eyebrows upon hearing of your interest in pressing flowers and Remurian history, and quick switches to far worldlier topics, like overseas vacations or the latest plays at the Opera Epiclese. Conversations you couldn’t even hope to partake in, because you came from a family that could only afford to go to the opera house once a year. You didn’t even have the confidence to bluff your way through these things.  

Balls, you had quickly learned, were like plays. You were either in a starring role, or you were a background actor without even a name.  

It wasn’t as though anyone had ever publicly humiliated you or ganged up on you like something out of a cheap romance novel. You were too insignificant for that.   

Eventually, you had learned to endure these little jabs, hardening your mind and heart. You were a poor baron’s daughter, someone with very little standing in the grand scheme of things. You couldn’t afford to offend your betters, anyways. There was nothing you could do except to shrug it off, to polish and improve yourself, and to make yourself worthy of being seen and chosen. Your parents had told you so as well. You couldn’t--shouldn’t--rely on them in such matters. They had their hands tied as well.  

The only one you could rely on was yourself. If no one else was there to pick up the pieces, then you would have to be the one to do it. That was a philosophy you had lived by, and it worked out for you so far.  

But now...  

You stared at the distraught man in front of you. A man with too much empathy for someone who didn’t deserve it, especially compared to those who had gone through actual suffering.  

You wanted to push him away again, to reassure him that there was nothing to be sad about, that it was wasted on you. You wanted to tell him to go be with someone happier, more cheerful, and to leave you be in your misery until you could recover yourself once more and go back to him with a smile.  

But then you remembered that young girl crying into her pillow after a particularly difficult ball where she didn’t get asked to dance even once. The herbarium (as you had insisted on calling it) that you diligently maintained since you were a child, thrown away in the trash.   

Even boring, dull girls had feelings to hurt.   

You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burrowing your face into his jacket.  

“Madame...?” you heard his stunned voice above your head. But his arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you deeper into his embrace. Hot tears prickled the back of your eyelids, but you let them flow. You could pay for his dry cleaning later.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his clothes, then raised your head to look straight into his eyes. “Neuvillette. For always thinking of my feelings, far more than I do myself. It makes me...very happy.”  

You really were a terrible friend. You thought you were putting him at ease by maintaining a respectable distance between the two of you, by dismissing his worries. But that had the opposite effect.  

He coddled you, something you hated, but maybe it was okay to sink and give in sometimes.  

“There is no need to thank me,” Neuvillette said. “I am only doing what I ought to do.”  

“I know. And that’s what I love about you.���  

Neuvillette’s eyes widened. You made no explanation for your words. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked it. You closed your eyes, wanting to engrave this warmth into your memories.  

Suddenly, you heard gasps and giggles coming from the cavern’s entrance. Both you and Neuvillette whipped your heads in that direction. Small, colorful heads squealed and quickly hid behind a rock.   

“It looks like we got an audience,” you said.   

“Indeed. How troublesome,” Neuvillette said. Neither of you let go of each other.  

One little Melusine poked her head out from the rock. “Kiss!” she shouted.  

Several of her sisters joined her. “Monsieur Neuvillette, kiss her!”  

The two of you looked at each other. Neuvillette’s face was a mixture of awkwardness, embarrassment, and affection. Your face mirrored his, you were sure.  

"Neuvillette, can you bend down for me?” you whispered, then changed your mind and stood up on your tiptoes, then pressed your lips against his smooth, marble cheek. But unlike marble, it was soft and warm.  

You heard a sharp inhalation from Neuvillette, which was quickly followed by a chorus of high-pitched squeals and cheers.  

As you watched Neuvillette’s cheeks turn red and felt your own burn, you couldn’t help but think that Furina had been on the right track with this whole marriage business, even if you disagreed with the way she went about it.  

Neuvillette deserved to have someone who loved him wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Someone who can serve as a comforting shelter for him, just like he did for you.  

“Do you really have to leave so soon?”  

You and Neuvillette were standing at the entrance to Merusea Village once more. The Melusines were gathered there to see you off.  

“It is almost dusk. I must bring Madame home before it gets dark,” Neuvillette told them. The Melusines let out “Awws” of disappointment.   

“I had a wonderful time with all of you. I’ll never forget it,” you assured them, patting your purse. As a parting gift, they had given you a heap of shiny components, which you gratefully accepted, although you wondered where you were going to put it all.  

“Thank you all for being such good hosts for us,” Neuvillette said, patting their heads. You did the same.  

As you looked at the rows of smiling faces, you thought that those who were loved by Neuvillette were the luckiest people in the world.  

“Madame, when you visit us for Monsieur Neuvillette’s birthday, I’ll play a song I composed for you!” Topyas said.  

“Neuvillette's birthday?” you repeated quizzically.  

“That’s right! He visits us every year on his birthday. Lutine bakes a really tasty cake for him, too. You will come with him as well, right?”  

Neuvillette’s birthday was at the end of the year, if you remembered correctly. Would you even be married to him by then?  

But faced with such a shining, hopeful visage, you could do nothing except smile and nod.  

“Madame, we’re above water now.”  

Neuvillette said into your ear. He watched as your eyes opened slowly, the fluttering of your eyelashes reminding him of a butterfly’s wings. You let out your held breath, which caused the strands of his hair to flutter. His arm was under your knees, and your arms were circled around his neck. Your head was resting on his shoulder. A small part of him wished he delayed in telling you that you had emerged from the water.  

He carefully set you down on the ground, steadying you by holding your elbow. You smiled up at him gratefully, then turned your head to the scenery in front of you.  

“Oh, did it rain?” you looked around. Indeed, there were shallow puddles on the dirt path that led to this pool, and the grass was glistening with water droplets. The air had that pure, refreshing quality of a passed storm. “It’s good that we missed it.”  

Neuvillette could only nod. There was something different here. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.   

“Shall we head back to the boat now? Oh, I hope it hasn’t gotten too drenched by the rain.”  

The two of you began to walk back to the beach. Neuvillette offered his elbow to you, worried that you might slip on the wet, muddy ground, and you linked your arm through it, thanking him. As you strolled down the path, your arms brushing against each other, it hit him, suddenly, what was different.  

The small space that you maintained between you and him had disappeared.  

The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Little birds chirped in the trees. As you neared the beach, Neuvillette saw ships of all sizes, either sailing back to Fontaine or setting off to distant harbors.  

Neither of you spoke much. Neuvillette was reminded of the calm and quiet after a storm, when everything was newly refreshed and washed clean.   

The tension he had sensed from you ever since he met you remained, but it seemed to have been chipped away a little bit. He still wasn’t sure what happened, but he was glad of it.   

All he knew was that he was a terrible judge of character.  

He had assumed that being a quiet, mild-mannered woman, he wouldn’t have the issue of having to deal with being overwhelmed by extreme emotions, but he was wrong.  

When he was with you, every emotion within him, from joy to sadness to anger, seemed magnified tenfold.  

The boat was there, right where he had docked it. Neuvillette did not have many chances to go boating, and he always preferred to swim anyways. However, recalling how your hair blew in the wind and how your eyes sparkled as you gazed out at sea, he was beginning to see its charms.  

“What a beautiful sunset!” he heard you exclaim. The orange sun was near the horizon, gilding the waves gold.   

For a moment, the two of you simply stared at the sight. Had a sunset ever been this mesmerizing before?  

“Neuvillette, let’s take a picture together with the sunset in the background. We never took a picture of just us together, have we?” you turned to him suddenly.  

For a moment, Neuvillette didn’t register your words. His mind was too preoccupied with the sunset, trying to figure out what made this one so different from the thousands he viewed before. And then, it struck him lightning.  

"You’re...calling my name without my title now.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth. He inwardly cringed at his forwardness.   

“Um...yes,” you said, looking a little bashful. “To be honest, it is a little silly of me to keep calling you Monsieur for so long, since we’re friends. Do you hate it?”  

“No, not at all,” he shook his head vigorously. Hearing you call him by simply his name, even if it wasn’t his real name, sparked something in him. He felt like he was hearing his name for the first time when it came from your lips. “And yes, let us take a picture together.”  

You fiddled with the Kamera and walked around to get the right position and to figure out the timer function. Once that was done, you ran back to him, having placed the device on a nearby tree stump. There was five seconds before the Kamera would go off. Before this moment would be captured forever.  

“May I put my arm around your shoulders, Madame?” he asked. It felt wrong to just stand side by side.   

“Yes,” you nodded, and just as he did so, the Kamera’s flash went off.  

I hope I had a good expression on my face, he thought. Smiling on command was not an ability he possessed.   

“Shall we go now?” you said after you retrieved the Kamera. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”  

“Wait, there is one more thing I need,” he said. It was something he had been waiting for all day.  

“What is it?” You looked up at him.  

“Madame, do you remember how you said that you will give me feedback for the date? Would you allow me to receive it now?”  

“Feedback?” you repeated, your expression incredulous. “Wait, you actually want it?”  

“Yes, of course I do,” he said. “Your opinion means a great deal to me.”  

“If that's the case...” you tilted your head slightly, frowning. “I must admit that I have very little experience with dates and other romantic things of that nature. I’m not sure if my opinion would be very valuable.”  

“It does not matter. I want to know what you think.”  

"Alright then, if you insist,” you cleared your throat dramatically. Neuvillette leaned forward a little unconsciously. “In all my days of existence, I have never enjoyed myself more than today. If I were to suddenly drop dead right now, then at least I’m dying happy.”  

“Surely you exaggerate.” Neuvillette was never quite able to grasp your sense of humor.  

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, letting out a small laugh. There was something bright in it that made his heart beat just a little faster. “It’s definitely in my top ten, though. After all, I was able to go to places I’ve never been before, meet new people, and experience new things. And best of all, I had a delightful companion by my side. What more can I ask for?”  

“You truly think I’m a delightful companion?” It was rare for anyone to describe him that way.  

“I do,” you said, conviction in your voice. “Better than I deserve, really.”  

Neuvillette looked at you, taking you in. He felt a small amount of guilt upon hearing your words.   

Truthfully, he had chosen the locations for today’s outing—the Weeping Willow of Erinnyes and Merusea Village—not only because he wished to take you to his favorite places.   

He was driven by a selfish, vain desire to show himself in the best light to you by taking you to the places where he was most comfortable.  

Entertaining guests was not his strong suit. Taking a young lady out on a date was even less so. He lacked ideas as to where to take you, so he defaulted to these remote locations, far from the human world that he had little interest in.  

But as he looked at your content face, he felt something like a chasm within him. It was ever-widening, an inexplicable need to be filled.   

Self-indulgence was dangerous. He was well-aware of that. It would be difficult to escape such a trap, no matter how sweetly it beckoned.   

Perhaps his time in the human world had weakened his resolve.  

“Let me take you to a restaurant next time,” the words came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “I am no expert on cuisine, but...”  

“I’ll choose for us, then,” you said. “There are a few places I’ve been dying to try out.”  

Neuvillette nodded. He silently pledged to savor whatever was served to him, no matter how dry it may be.  

He reached out his hand to help you onto the boat, but you didn’t take it. Instead, you asked him a question.  

“Did you have a good time today, Neuvillette?”  

He was startled. “Why do you ask?”  

“Because this is a date. It’s a collaboration between two people. It's not a good date if only one of us enjoyed ourselves.”  

Neuvillette pondered your question. He thought of your look of wonder upon seeing the willow tree and Merusea Village, the sight of you playing and chatting with the dear Melusines, the little smiles you’d give him, the feel of you in his arms, the sensation of your hands in his hair and around his horns, the kiss...  

How could one day feel so long and yet so short at the same time?  

A rush of warmth surged through his body. He took your hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Then, before your astonished eyes, he brushed his lips against the back of your hand.  

“This day will be engraved into my memories until the end of time,” he said solemnly, looking directly into your eyes. “I have no complaints about anything. You were absolutely perfect.”  

He saw your cheeks becoming rosy. You looked away, but he didn’t miss the way your lips turned up in a smile. “And you say I exaggerate,” he heard you mumble.  

The two of you went onboard the boat and sailed back home.  

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Taglist:@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz, @rosedpetal, @blue-sapphire-ink

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #genshin fluff #the winding path of fate #my works

[nervousgardenerkid]

i finally decided to write something omg,,anyways MINORS DNI!!! seriously we'll fucking fight if u do. kinda smut?? mainly just the reader loving eddie. i don't think i used any pronouns? but it is implied that the reader is female. anyways hope u enjoy! and send more stuff i like writing :) i got this pic off of twitter so slay👁🫦👁

Eddie Munson was by far one of the prettiest boys you've ever seen. It didn't matter what he was doing. If he was sleeping he was the most beautiful sleeper there was, even if there was a bit of drool on the corner of his mouth, and his hair was all over the place.

When he played his guitar you cursed the gods for not giving you a single creative bone in your body cause the number of pictures you could draw or paint would be endless. You knew they'd never do him any justice, but the way he furrowed his brows as he tried to match the notes to his new favorite song. His teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip as he finally started to hit all the right notes, eyes lighting up in the process of it all.

He's pretty no matter what he does, but you think he's the prettiest when his head is between your thighs. You let out little giggles while he leaves trails of kisses along your inner thighs. He steals a glance at you and you feel your breath get stuck in your throat. As the sun sets in the distance the soft orange lighting found its way to the window in his bedroom at the trailer and painted his body a beautiful golden color. It's as if the universe was on your side and decided to freeze time for you.

His eyes were full of warmth, love, and lust all wrapped up in one, and his smile. God, that smile was going to be the absolute death of you. He was going to be the death of you. You let out a gentle “hm?” as your body shivered from his hand grabbing yours.

“I asked if you were okay, sweetheart,” he mumbled while placing another kiss on the inside of your thigh. His nose gently nudged the smooth skin.

“I'm fine,” you whispered, sitting up and resting your free hand on his cheek. He narrows his eyes at you sitting up so that he's now at eye level with you.

“What's going on in that pretty head of yours?” he mumbles to himself more than you.

You smile and let go of his hand to place yours on his other cheek. He leans into the warmth of your touch as you let out a sigh of contentment.

“You're so pretty. You know that?” you said softly as you lean in slowly.

“No matter what you do,” you kiss his cheek. “You're pretty while you sleep,” a kiss on his other cheek.

“You watch me sleep?” he teases.

You roll your eyes and flick his forehead before kissing it. “You're pretty when you spend hours playing your guitar.”

You feel his face get warm and you pull back a bit to catch a glimpse of the pink dust across his cheeks. “Pretty while you plan your D&D night,” you're littering kisses across his jaw and neck.

“My pretty boy,” you mumble against his lips. Eddie lets out a small chuckle and wraps his arms around you while dragging you into his lap.

“When am I at my prettiest?” he asks while looking at you with bright eyes.

You feel your cheeks heat up and let out a whine while putting your face in the crook of his neck. It's one thing to think this to yourself, but to say it out loud is another thing.

“Oh? Now that I know your reaction you have to tell me,” his hands fumble with the hem of your shirt. You shake your head and let out a yelp when he lays you down, his body hovering over you.

“Well that's not fair now is it sweetheart? I asked nicely and everything,”

You giggle once again and lift your head enough to meet his lips halfway. He let out a hum and put one hand on your waist while he used his arm for support. The kiss was slow and sweet, like you both had all the time in the world and decided to spend it with each other. You pull away breathless and put your lips near his ear.

“You're the prettiest when you go down on me.” When you pull away you don't expect his face to be as red as yours, but it is. He giggles. He actually, giggled before he finds himself making his way to his original position.

“You think so?” He asks quietly before teasing you through the soft cotton that acts as a barrier.

You nod your head, letting out a low moan when he moves the cotton to the side. His fingers now teasing you.

“Well,” he starts, middle and ring finger slowly making their way in. “I think you look beautiful while I’m down here.” He picks up the pace a bit and places a kiss where you need him the most. You whimper at the contact of his lips, almost pushing his head back with the heel of your foot. He smirks up at you and glances back down.

“Let's see how pretty we can get tonight, yeah?”

There are very few hills you would die on but Eddie Munson being the most beautiful boy there ever was is a hill you'd happily die on.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

[measuredmotion]

Rojst/The Mire/Rojst ‘97/The Mire ‘97/Rojst. Millenium/The Mire. Millenium (dir. Jan Holoubek)

A crime series consisting of a three-part journey into the times of deep communism in Poland, suffocating cigarette smoke in every possible room, gloomy buildings and people with minor or major secrets.

This story is so complex with its characters and storytelling that I don’t really know where I should start… Well, alright let’s start with these two in the picture above. Witold Wanycz (played by Andrzej Seweryn) and Piotr Zarzycki (played by Dawid Ogrodnik). The chemistry between these two actors is remarkable! They fits their characters so well and from the very beginning you just believe both of them to be an old journalist troubled by his past in this small town, and young, spirited one, who wants to reveal the truth, and despite being quite an annoying character cares about justice. The show has many excellent supporting characters as hotel manager Kocioł or Nadia. If some fans of World on Fire ever read it, they will be nicely surprised by presence of Zofia Wichłacz, who plays Piotr’s wife. But anyway! The plot takes place in 80s, in gloomy small town where a prostitute and a communist activist are murdered. I don’t want to spoil anything but you can already say by the times it happens it’s not easy to solve… Wanycz wants to run away from the town and Zarzycki wants to solve the case with him. And it’s all starts spinning! Everyone in the town lies of course.

Second series takes place also in the same town, but in 1997 and introduces new characters, which you can see in the pic. My absolutely favourite sergeant Mika (Łukasz Simlat), and sergeant Anna Jass (Magdalena Różczka). Year '97 was the period of the greatest flood in over a century in Poland and the plot covers the aftermath of it. It takes place after Poland became fully independent but the hallmarks of communism are evident at every turn. In district Gronty somebody finds the body of a young boy, and water washes away the bones of people killed there during the war. In general it’s a mess. Police try to work on the case but again, nothing in this town is easy and everybody lies. Of course there are old friends occurring there as well from the previous series. We have some flashbacks into the past back to 1940s, and we get to know Wanycz’s story.

I really think that the latest part of the series is my favourite. Again, all previous characters appear, but the creators take the audience back into the super communist 1960s, apart from 1999, and we have some more light shed on Mr Kocioł (played by Filip Pławiak as younger version of him)

- for comparison here’s older Kocioł and younger one, can you seeee the visionnnn? -

Anyway, there is more and more of dark stuff happening, this essay is shitty and I don’t want to spoil anything, just please give it a chance! It is now streamed on Netflix. Some stuff may be a bit hard to understand for non-polish folks in terms of cultural aspect or some sayings but I assure you all, it’s a really captivating crime/drama series ✨ and Jan Holoubek is a geniussss! I just love that it reflects on people’s lives in hards times and what human’s nature is able to do and that… well… karma is real.

#rojst #the mire #here we gooooo #jan holoubek

[picopepin]

🥊 Ube for the oc game

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Bear in mind Ube is Ghost's OC so I'm gonna try and do the relaying justice~! Ube loves tinkering with things, particularly objects of the automaton variety - some extra small and some his and Nutella's size. I don't want to dig too deep into the biological side of things since its meant to be purposefully enigmatic but Ube is not of this earth and is already equipped with a really high intellect for construction and engineering. Like he's not a robot/ai but hes definitely bio-mechanical in nature and so a lot of his tasks revolve around this origination. The automatons are not something he has to make for anyone he just does it for the sublime. This also extends to making changes to their "home", at least the physical one that Nutella can be in, and then architectural changes to his own realm. (This realm exists on another plane so while its very real and physical for Ube it might as well not be for Nutella - just sort of a dream if you will):

He can accomplish these large scale renovations AND the smaller tiny automatons (which unfartunately I have no pics of for you atm) because his cannon arm isnt static... in fact virtually none of him is static, it can slide and unlock and transform to suit his needs. So the cannon arm not only expands but also breaks apart into working tools (some of which I am NOT big brained enough to draw for you but think a swiss army knife situation a la John Silver from Treasure Planet)

^Also it should be pretty obvious that I got a lot of inspo for this visual language from angel arms - i read Trigun Maximum back in high school eons ago lol..

One side note, semi unrelated to the question, he also LOVES when Nutella caresses his core chest/abdomen. Not just for the obvious reasons but also because its where he feels the most. Imagine you're somehow more tightly coiled than the mortal coil... its a very grounding experience for someone so otherworldly. Its an activity that is meant to help decompress him so I figured it was worth including! As for what he hates? Ube is impartial to negativity and doesn't exactly hate. Not to dodge the question he just literally doesn't experience disdain. If anything comes close it's when he has to leave Nutella for his departures into the other realms (again, purposefully enigmatic). That may be a bias inflicted on him through exposure to someone so high-volume in emotions as a contrasting being.

#myocs #<-sorta HAHA #ubetella

[srbachchan]

DAY 5290

Jalsa, Mumbai                      Aug 6/7,  2022                  Sat/Sun 10:05 AM

🧡 , Aug 7 .. birthday wishes to Ef Krishna Kumar and Ef One Narges .. Ef Sameer Khare from Nashik .. happy birthday to you for Aug 5 .. Love and happiness to all .. 🏵️🏵️🏵️🌿 ✨ love and greetings to all and the care and safety .. from the Ef ..

and to begin with a small correction , that has been pointed out to me ..  

.. the picture .. actually .. isn't shown in a “hair dressing salon” 🙈 .. it's shown in the LOUVRE MUSEUM OF PARIS .. World's largest Museum .. and the Home of some of the best-known works of art .. including the Mona Lisa .. .. the picture is displayed on the wall of portraits by Harcourt Studio .. one of the renowned and luxurious studios of photography in France .. situated at the Carrousel du Louvre in Paris .. Harcourt Studio has launched a Photo Booth there at the entry of the Louvre Museum .. The portrait shown on the board .. was shot by Harcourt in the year 2009 .. when I was invited for the opening of one of the events at the newly opened structure , which has all its pipes running outside the building .. forget its name .. for purists a most damaging architectural deed, especially in the city of Paris, renowned for its architectural glory and magnificence .. but then trust the French to do things differently .. the reaction to the glass pyramid build in the open courtyard of the LOUVRE, had equal amount of dislike by the purists and it took a while before it was finally accepted .. as an element of modern art or modern expression ..  

... ahhh , got the name of the structure .. its 

Centre Pompidou , Paris, France .. An "inside out" building in the historical centre of Paris, featuring Europe’s largest modern art museum. 

punch in the name on the Goog and find some amazing pictures of the modern art museum .. and this was where the pic of moi was put up .. 

.. and it has been a few days of emotional and amazing collects from the Social Media when Ef have put up pictures of letters written by Babuji to friends .. one of them informing the friend of Babuji’s decision to get married to Ma .. and later on written to announce my birth .. its dated 1942 .. !! 

And there is so much the desire to get the originals .. working on it ..

... but there is so much to work on and do , and ne’er the time or the dedicated time to attend to them .. in particular the work to be done on Babuji .. and am at a loss of how to go about it .. 

.. his poetry to be recited to be put to music to be put to film and video ..

his thesis on WB Yeats for the literary world .. to be read out and put in audio form ..

his translations of various poets and poetries of other countries ..

his own translated works of the tragedies of Shakespeare in the graph and style of the bard but in Hindi, the first of its kind ..

his rendering of the Bhagwad Gita in the translate language of the Tulsidas Ramayan , called JanGita .. and the desire to put it to music .. another first of its kind  ..

and then to be able to do justice to this .. to find the dedicated time people and venue for its compiling and documenting .. a final finality for posterity , for the World of the written word , for the people who have read remembered and admired his works ..

it has been painful each day to think of this and have no answers .. 

answers to birthday reminders wedding reminders anniversary reminders, autograph hunters, selfie insisters .. and many more in acknowledge demands 

but Babuji .. ??

Alright no more laments .. 

just prayers .. for all .. for peace and calm ..

Amitabh Bachchan 🌷

[kozykricket]

Large Ore Veins and the potential of engaging ore gameplay

So, something I think is overlooked as part of Caves and Cliffs is the addition of large ore veins. i dont think "large ore vein" does them justice, because they arent just. a bigger vein of ores. they're so much more. so, for those not in the know (maybe u dont cave often, thats cool!) heres a pic from the minecraft wiki, and some of my own! What they look like if you remove stone:

quite incredible. but what about in normal gameplay? Hm, lets go try and find an iron vein. Only under y 0... iron mixed in with tuff. got it.

Is this one? Nope, not quite. Separated enough. Just a tuff blob next to some iron

Aha! The telltale sign of an ore vein. BEANS!! (Vanilla shaders are warm glow from VanillaTweaks, also in its own pack called shimmer; both by the wonderful Shock Micro! She makes great vanilla shaders!) Also, heres a VERY small one that happened to be a vein, I checked

They're rare enough to be a joy to see, but not so rare that you'll never find them - especially if you keep an eye out! I quite like that you have to keep an eye out, thats one part of what makes them so engaging. They tend to be noticeably different from simple tuff blobs. What else makes them interesting and engaging? The fact you actually mine as you try to discover them. I don't think a text post can quite do them justice, but if you know you know. Once I was told that they're basically generated like noodle caves, I realized oh my god, the game is making me dig out a big noodle to find the iron. I get a LOT of tuff, because not all of the ore itself is connected. its connected by a bit of ore, and a bit of tuff. you have to kinda mine around and you start to get a feel for the shapes and directions the vein is going. Some can feel neverending. Sometimes you find a tuff blob and think its more of the vein, but it isnt. whoops! its fun!!! Overall, I think this being applied in a smaller scale to more common simple veins... would be lovely. its very engaging to mine not JUST the ore. because how often do you end up going caving for ores and... you come out having lost no durability, having gotten no stones at all? Just ores. Not with large ore veins! If only we had tuff bricks, haha... What a joy they are to find

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft rambling

[memento-morri-writes]

Distraction! I would love to hear about your dnd characters?

Hi nonny!! Sorry I didn't answer this last night. I found out things were Okay-ish, and I went right to sleep. I also really wanted to give you a complete and through answer on this, because dnd is a hyperfixation/special interest of mine at the moment, and I want to do my characters justice. Anyways, let's get into it!

Here's a pic of my dnd character masterlist in Notion.

Each character has their own page, which follows the same general format as the character pages from this post with a few alterations. Really the only part that changed is the top part (4th pic on that post), which now looks like this:

Info about the actual character under the cut, cause this is going to get long!!!

First up we have Laverna. (pic above) She's a tiefling rogue (thief subclass) and was the first dnd character I ever came up with. I've been holding on to her character idea for almost 2 years now, though her background and concept has changed a bit since then. They were the child of a wealthy merchant family, none of whom were tieflings. (Pesky hellish heritage popping up at random times in the bloodline...) Their family treated her like shit, and they ended up breaking ties and changing her name when she left. Now she's a successful thief who steals from merchants and nobles in her home city. Also, she's a stabby rogue, not a shooty one. (All rogues are either shooty or stabby. It's just a fact.)

Next we have Zenara, who goes almost exclusively by Zen. They’re a (purple) tiefling warlock (The Fiend subclass, Pact of the Chain).

They are a direct result of the early phases of my Critical Role hyperfixation. If you’re familiar with CR, especially Campaign 2, then you might be able to figure out the weird mix of character personalities, backstories, and appearances that resulted in Zen. However, there’s also a healthy amount of my own nonsense in the mix. As for backstory, Zen grew up in a small town named Hunter’s Crossing with their parents and no other siblings. When they were about 17, raiders came and attacked their village. Everyone was either killed or captured, and Zen should have suffered the same fate. Except that they didn’t. They dreamed of a terrifying fiery entity who told them that as long as they were useful they wouldn’t die yet. They woke up with powers they didn’t understand and the fear of their patron taking control of their body for its own uses. Bonus fact, since they’re a Pact of the Chain warlock, they get to have a familiar, and that familiar can be an imp. So, they have an imp familiar who just showed up. But of course that would attract a lot of attention, so the familiar is always polymorphed into a raven, with red eyes, of course. The raven/imp is yet unnamed, and I need to come up with one soon, ideally before our next session.

Now we have Alarion, who I actually just totally retrofitted his character. He was originally supposed to be a sorcerer, but I realized that that didn’t really fit his character (plus I have another sorcerer concept), so now he’s a half-drow ranger.

He was found, abandoned in the wood, by his adoptive parent who is a druid who lives in the woods a few miles from a village at the base of the mountains. In those mountains is a passage to the Underdark, and sometimes creatures from there escape into the forests around the mountains. Alarion is the one who hunts them down and either kills them or returns them to the underdark. Being half-drow, he gets weird looks from the villagers, but they at least respect his involvement in keeping the village safe. He has a horse who he’s very close with, and he never goes anywhere without his longbow, a dagger in his belt, and his trusty cloak. Fun Fact: I’m shocked I didn’t have a ranger character until earlier this week when I changed his class and background, seeing as I was completely obsessed with the Ranger’s Apprentice series as a kid. In fact, I still have all 12 books on my bookshelf at home.

Next up we have Avra. She’s a Shadar-Kai rogue (assassin subclass). They aren’t currently part of a campaign, but I did get to use her for a oneshot where she was at level 12! She kicked ass with a rapier of wounding. (while she is a stabby rogue, she does have a hand crossbow to use if needed…)

Avra used to be a member of an assassin’s guild, where she served for 10 years. However, recently one of her missions went wrong, and she was captured and killed. Yes, killed. She woke up in the middle of the woods, half-buried. Since then she’s been on a search for answers regarding her return to “life”, as well as a potential betrayal by a member of the guild she belonged to at the time.

Next up (and the last of my strongly developed characters) we have Asra. They are a human fighter (champion subclass) who I am using in my campaign at my university.

Asra was an orphan who grew up in a city near the coast. Upon turning 18, she moved to the kingdom’s capital in search of new opportunities. Once there she was recruited to be essentially a bodyguard for a secretive organization. She was kept in the dark about the group’s motivations and goals, so she did not know that the group was a cult to the god of war and tyranny, who were trying to provoke war between two kingdoms. She had a girlfriend who was also a member of the “army”. At one point the cult decided to attack some important buildings, but failed. Asra’s girlfriend was killed, and most of the cultists were captured. They fled across the ocean to another country and another city, where they have been pit fighting, taking some of the betting pool as winnings.

My most recently-developed character, who also happens to be one of my favorites, is named Rook, and is a half-elven Swashbuckler Rouge.

He’s the bastard son of a nobleman who ran away after his family threatened to disown him for his improper behavior. He joined the crew of a pirate ship and excelled at it. He was named first mate at the age of 22, which made a lot of the older crewmembers jealous, so they plotted against Rook, drugged him and sold him to another pirate captain who kept Rook as a slave for 2 year until he escaped, burning the ship to the ground in the process. Needless to say the captain is not pleased. He’s an excellent duelist and exceptionally skilled with a rapier. He’s self-confident to the point of arrogance, something that get him in trouble a lot. And he loves cats. Oh, and he’s literally the definition of Chaotic Bisexual, lmao.

Semi-developed Characters:

She’s not well developed at all, but I also have an aasimar scourge oath of vengeance paladin named Asola Riava Ashmark (or Sola for short). She’s not currently part of a campaign, especially since I haven’t decided on a backstory or anything for her, but I’m excited to get a chance to use her someday!

I don’t know a whole lot (or really anything) about her backstory, other than the fact that she is trying to avenge the death(s) of someone (or multiple someones) she cared about.

The next character, who is more developed than Sola (but not by too much) is Elira, also known as Ellie. She’s a high elf abjuration wizard, who I love very much.

She’s rather naive, but incredibly smart and very academically talented. She’s used to being the best and definitely going through some Gifted Kid Burnout. Also way too pure for this world and when she finally has to kill someone, she’s going to have a very rough time. Oh, and she’s autistic and has a cat familiar.

My next semi-developed character is Commander Saber, who goes by Sabe. He’s a warforged fighter (battle master subclass).

[insert pic when it’s done]

Sabe was made for the military, made for battle. But following his “escape” from the military with the assistance of his friend, a humanoid artificer, Sabe found himself without purpose. So now he’s trying to find one. One that is entirely his own, not that of higher powers. He’s tired of being a piece on the game board.

My last semi-developed character is as of yet unnamed. They’re a half-elven (wood elf) college of glamour bard.

They wandered out of the woods near a small town about a year ago, with no memories. All they had with them were their clothes and a well-made flute. Though they remember nothing of their life before or during the woods, they have a talent for glamour and illusions, and the songs they know are haunting and utterly alien to the human ear. People are often disturbed by their unnaturally bright green eyes and “eerie” presence. (They have the Feylost background.) Also, they’re autistic. <3

That’s all the fully developed characters but I also have the following ideas:

an unnamed tiefling bard (college of swords) with the charlatan background. (They’re a red tiefling.)

a fire-based sorcerer named Orion. (maybe a custom subclass?? idk for sure)

a cleric to a death god who has zero issues with killing bad guys because “either I kill them now or they die of natural causes in 10 years. either way my god is happy.”

a half-orc barbarian

a black Tabaxi monk (shadow subclass)

an older dwarven artificer armorer

a necromancer

a blood mage (custom wizard subclass)

a changeling thief rogue

Wow, you made it through my mega infodump! If you made it this far, thank you so much for listening!! this literally took me an hour to do, adjskajdkas.

#Anonymous #morrigan replies #morrigan plays dnd #dnd #my ocs #dnd characters

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"HE HAS SET HIS SIGHTS ON THE WEALTH OF ATLANTIS. THIS HAS MADE HIM THE ENEMY OF AQUAMAN."

PIC INFO: Spotlight on preliminary sketch art of Aquaman's greatest foe, Black Manta, from "Justice" Vol. 1 #1. October, 2005. Comics. Artwork by Alex Ross.

ORIGIN: "Black Manta's identity is irrelevant. He has become the mask he wears. There is nothing hidden beneath. This is why, like many other criminals, he is believed to be completely beyond rehabilitation. At some point in the past, he simply put on the helmet and chose to live in opposition to his fellow man. It is a madness that defines the world in such small terms: everything else is a contradiction to be hated.

He is not opposed to humanity in its entirety, but to all save a remainder of his own people. Because of his race, he uses the slavery of generations past to justify his want for a kingdom, a nation of his own. Black Manta has convinced himself that there is nothing he may do against the common man that is unjustified including anything from brutality to theft or murder.

He has hated for so long that he is no longer a man who hates, but hate itself. Perhaps this is the danger of prejudice -- not merely for the cruelty of one time perpetrated by one people and mindset, but for its pollution and condemnation of generations to come.

Black Manta hunts treasures hidden and lost in the oceans. He has found criminals to join his cause, some human, others now mutated. These will become the people of his kingdom. For now, he is a nomad, basing his operations off the coast of various islands in the Pacific. He has set his sights on the wealth of Atlantis. This has made him the enemy of Aquaman."

-- BATMAN, from "Bruce Wayne's Private Files in the Batcomputer," words/script by Jim Krueger, c. 2005

Source: https://viewcomiconline.com/justice-2005-issue-1.

#Black Manta #Aquaman #DC Comics #DC Universe #Alex Ross Art #Alex Ross #Jim Krueger #Justice Maxi Series #DC #Bruce Wayne's Private Files #Sketch Art #Pencil Sketch #Treasure Hunter #L.O.D. #Batcomputer #Pencil Art #DC Villains #Aquaman Villains #David Milton Hyde #We are Legion! #Legion of Doom #Sci-fi #Supervillains #David Hyde Black Manta

[sussex-nature-lover]

Sunday 7 August 2022

Wood in the Woods and Back To The Garden

For a few days we’ve been watching this large hornet on the cut end of a branch in the woods. There were also several flies and midge type insects, all apparently ok side by side. The flies are so bright, like luminous beetle wings. I think they look like those Semaphore flies that were on the pond or Ellen Terry’s famous beetle wing dress National Trust link.

We always read about the diverse biosphere within woodland and here it was demonstrated in front of our own eyes and so quickly too.

After such a long time only hearing the green woodpeckers, we’ve seen a lot of them lately and quite a few holes in the big, old trees around.

Back in the garden, the squirrels have been all over the hazel trees and the ground below is absolutely covered in nutshells, both ancient brown ones and the immature ones too.

We’ve actually dug up some oak saplings in the woods for transplanting to move to sensible locations. The amount of acorns we have suggests that’s going to be a recurring job because the squirrels have no spacial awareness and overcrowding was quite a problem.

Only part made of wood, but every morning I have to repair the bug hotel from its early hours attacks. At the end of the season I think I may have to deploy some wood glue or this is going to be yet another never ending job and it won’t help the bees either.

Away From the Wood

Looking around the flowers - which as you probably know are a bit thin on the ground in our garden (NO pun intended there, I promise🤸🏻‍♀️ ) I spotted this rogue orange poppy in the plant that Ms NWtE gave me at the start of summer.

That raised a smile, as did...

my large pink Hibiscus shrub having its first flowers of the year (1st August)This huge bush is going to be absolutely covered and aren’t they attractive.

Something else springing back to life is a New Zealand palm which we’d cut down as it’s directly outside a window and had absolutely blocked all the light. It’s doing really well again at a lower level. We’ve taken inspiration and cut down some trunks in the back garden too. Originally these were in pots but they outgrew them far too quickly and we now have a love-hate relationship with them. Hate as they’re incongruous in an English rural garden, love that they add a bit of a holiday destination feeling (love’s a bit strong, tolerate would be nearer the mark) but do love how the birds use and enjoy them, particularly nuthatch and woodpeckers.

Last night Crow called me to take pics of the sunset at the front of the house. To be honest, the photos really don’t do it justice, it was very striking.

The reason I’ve included two pictures though is to get my own back on him for last week’s bread-roll-hedgehog debacle. Do bear in mind that we’ve been together since we were at school and all our lives he’s had eyesight so much better than mine that I’ve had too many faux pas over the years. Of course since I had my bionic eyes and as time’s passed and the inevitable’s happened to his aging vision, the table’s have turned.

May I present you with his astonishment at the buzzard above the telegraph pole.

Let me tell you now, that buzzard had already booked its landing slot on one of the Gatwick runways. Mwah ha haaaaa. My hedgehog was SO much more believable and I won’t hear anyone say any different.

The plan for later on is to get out and survey the garden that’s been neglected all week. Before the hosepipe ban comes into effect at the end of the week we must tend to the pond, although as we really must prioritise Saving Water, I’ll be checking for more advice from the RSPB here. I think I’ll have to move a lot of our pots to more shady spots as a starter and that’s going to take a while, so I’d better crack on and see what else I can do to help. Small steps but they all count right?

#nature woodland flowers sunset naturephotography insects

[mixergiltron]

Ride the Pineapple Express.

"Now, then!" said a shrill female voice the instant Sam thrust his head in at the door, "what do you want, young man?"

Sam looked round in the direction whence the voice proceeded. It came from a rather stout lady of comfortable appearance, who was seated beside the fireplace in the bar, blowing the fire to make the kettle boil for tea. She was not alone; for on the other side of the fireplace, sitting bolt upright in a high-backed chair, was a man in threadbare black clothes, with a back almost as long and stiff as that of the chair itself, who caught Sam's most particular and especial attention at once.

He was a prim-faced, red-nosed man, with a long, thin countenance, and a semi-rattlesnake sort of eye, —rather sharp, but decidedly bad. He wore very short trousers, and black cotton stockings, which, like the rest of his apparel, were particularly rusty. His looks were starched, but his white neckerchief was not, and its long limp ends straggled over his closely-buttoned waistcoat in a very uncouth and unpicturesque fashion. A pair of old, worn, beaver gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and a faded green umbrella, with plenty of whalebone sticking through the bottom, as if to counterbalance the want of a handle at the top, lay on a chair beside him; and, being disposed in a very tidy and careful manner, seemed to imply that the red-nosed man, whoever he was, had no intention of going away in a hurry.

To do the red-nosed man justice, he would have been very far from wise if he had entertained any such intention; for, to judge from all appearances, he must have been possessed of a most desirable circle of acquaintance, if he could have reasonably expected to be more comfortable anywhere else. The fire was blazing brightly under the influence of the bellows, and the kettle was singing gaily under the influence of both. A small tray of tea-things was arranged on the table; a plate of hot buttered toast was gently simmering before the fire; and the red-nosed man himself was busily engaged in converting a large slice of bread into the same agreeable edible, through the instrumentality of a long brass toasting-fork. Beside him stood a glass of reeking hot pine-apple rum-and-water, with a slice of lemon in it; and every time the red-nosed man stopped to bring the round of toast to his eye, with the view of ascertaining how it got on, he imbibed a drop or two of the hot pine-apple rum-and-water, and smiled upon the rather stout lady, as she blew the fire.

Here we have the introduction of the Reverend Stiggins,an alcoholic,evangelical minister who bore the brunt of Charles Dickens' satire in his serialization,The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club(generally shortened to just The Pickwick Papers). Now what does Dickens' character have to do with Tiki? Because Plantation rum(now called Planteray Rum) used this character as the inspiration for a pineapple-infused rum. Originally intended to be a limited edition release,it turned out to be popular enough with bartenders that they decided to make it a production item. Additionally,they've also come out with a limited 'smoky' pineapple rum. I've got both and they're excellent. Below are a few mixings I've done with Stiggins,I think you'll enjoy them.

(for some reason,the smoky isn't on their site,so I included a pic so you'd know what to look for)

Mix #145 Siboney

1.5oz aged Jamaican rum 1/2oz pineapple rum 1oz pineapple juice 3/4oz lime juice 1/2oz passionfruit syrup 1/2oz Demerara syrup

Shake with ice. Strain into glass with fresh ice.

A modern version of the drink originally published in Trader Vic's book Rum Cookery & Drinkery (1974),this is sweet and fruity. A nice summer drink.

Mix #146 Reverend's Tai

1.5oz Plantation Stiggins pineapple rum 1/2oz Plantation OFTD rum 1oz lime juice 1/2oz orgeat 1/4oz orange curacao

Shake with ice and pour into Mai Tai glass.

Created by Matt Pietrek,this is the Mai Tai the Reverend would've drank. It's basically a pineapple Mai Tai with some kick from the OFTD. Quite good.

Mix #147 Elusive Dreams

1oz Plantation Stiggins pineapple rum 1oz light rum 1/2oz banana liqueur 1oz pineapple juice 1oz lime juice 3/4oz cinnamon syrup

Shake with ice and double strain into glass.

A modern riff on a Hotel Nacional de Cuba recipe,this is cinnamon on the nose with a banana/pineapple taste and final cinnamon burn. Very nice,if you like the burn you'll love this.

Mix #148 Pineapple Stiggins Daiquiri

2oz Plantation Stiggins Limited Smoky pineapple rum 3/4oz lime juice 1/2oz simple syrup

Shake with ice and strain into chilled coup glass.

Basically a daiquiri made with pineapple rum. Very pineapple-y with some citrus and smoke aftertaste. If you want to try a pineapple daiquiri,this is a good one.

Mix #149 Pineapple Paralysis

1.5oz bourbon whiskey 1/2oz Plantation Stiggins pineapple rum 1oz lemon juice 3/4oz pineapple juice 1/2oz orange curacao 1/2oz orgeat 1/4oz cinnamon syrup 3 drops bitters

Shake or blend with ice and pour into glass or hollowed out coconut.

Created by Eric Bogan of the Inferno Room,this is very bourbon forward and pineapple-y with a cinnamon finish. Bourbon aficionados will dig this. Make with high proof bourbon if you want some serious kick.

Mix #150 Critical Cooler

1.5oz Plantation Stiggins pineapple rum 1.5oz dark rum 2oz pineapple juice 2oz orange juice 1/2oz lime juice 1/2oz grenadine 3/4oz coconut water 1/4oz coconut cream

Shake with ice and strain into glass with fresh ice.

Another Trader Brandon creation from Mystic Libations. Sweet,orange/pineapple-y with a bit of coconut aftertaste. Three ounces of rum give it a good kick. A big drink you'll feel in the morning if you have too many.

So there we have it folks. A century and a half of Tiki drinks. Stay tuned for more as I go for a double.

#tiki drinks #tiki #tikiculture #rum cocktails #rum drinks #cocktails #rum #tikilife #pineapple #pineapple cocktail #daiquiri

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Bonus Chapter - The Kingdom of Sunflowers

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: There once was a realm split in two. One was the domain of the sea, and the other was a kingdom of sunflowers. Tags: Voyeurism but it's wholesome (?), fluff, one-sied Note: This is set between Chapter 7 and 8 of The Winding Path of Fate. I've been working on this for so long that I don't know if it's good or not anymore haha Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette as some sort of byronic hero

The small, green sprouts. They were lined up neatly in three rows. You had tried to make them as evenly spaced as you could. 

Their shiny, smooth leaves. You liked to rub them between your fingers and feel their fuzziness. The texture was pleasant to the touch. 

The white pages of your notebook. They were filled with tables and daily measurements. Just scanning your eyes over them gave you a satisfied feeling. 

Your worn pencil and ruler. They were trusty implements that had been with you for such a long time that you don’t even remember when you got them. You hoped they would continue to accompany you in the future. 

The— 

A prickle on the back of your neck. It was a bump in the train track of your thoughts. A train track you tried very hard to follow since you came out here half an hour ago.  

The prickle was not the sting of an insect or a small stray object blown against your nape by the wind.  

No, the cause was far more terrifying than both of those things.  

You turned your head to the house, looking up at the second-floor window that faced the front yard. You had never been in that room before, and for good reason. 

It was haunted. 

A flash of white. The curtains fluttered shut. 

The prickle on your neck came from a ghost’s lilac gaze. 

The dining room of the house with a lovely view of the sea was, for most of its existence, quiet. Every once in a while, that quietness would be broken by the lively chatter of small creatures with bright eyes, but otherwise it was only used by the master of the house. 

Recently, a change occurred. If the tranquility of the dining room was a perfectly still body of water that was broken by occasional loud splashes, then now there was a series of gentle ripples regularly making their way across the surface. 

On this day, one such ripple formed. It looked to be a particularly large one. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I’m afraid I have some troubling news.” 

The ripple—in the form of a young woman’s voice—made its way to the other side of the table, where the master was sitting. 

The cutlery he was holding dropped into his plate. “What is it, Madame? Has something happened? I will do everything in my power to help you.” 

“On the contrary, sir, I think you are the one in need of help. Your study is haunted by a ghost.” 

“...Pardon?” 

“I saw a glimpse of it in the window today. I think it was staring at me when I was out making my sunflower observations. It almost gave me a heart attack when I saw it.” 

“...” 

The young woman carefully sliced a piece of steak and brought it to her mouth. The master was as still as a statue. For a few seconds, the water was as smooth as glass. 

“I think you should do something about it. It’s quite troubling. Creepy, even.” 

“...I-I’ll...see what I can do.” 

“I’m very glad to hear that.” 

The young woman finished her dinner, nodded to the master, and went to put her dishes away in the kitchen. The master didn’t stir. An outsider might mistake him for a flawless statue, if not for the gradually reddening tips of his ears. 

The ghost did not disappear. In fact, it seemed to have grown bolder. It moved to the dining room now, which had a nice view of the front yard. 

Perhaps there were some things that even the Chief Justice couldn’t do. 

If even he couldn’t get rid of it, then you supposed there was nothing you could do except put up with it. 

It wasn’t so scary. It was more amusing than anything, really. 

The ghost wasn’t always there. It was missing from its usual post whenever there was a court case or a hectic day at the Palais Mermonia. It wasn’t as though it was missing much, though, considering how you just did the same thing in the garden every day: examine the sprouts, measure and record their heights, feel the moisture of the soil, make some sketches, and repeat the same thing in the back garden. Very thrilling entertainment, you were sure. 

Maybe it wants to keep an eye on me to make sure I’m not ruining its garden, you mused as you lay on your side, studying the underside of a leaf. It makes sense. This garden belongs to it, after all.  

Well, if the ghost wanted to bore itself to death (or whatever counts as death for a ghost) by watching you, then it might as well. You were a mere human with no power over it. But you had no intention of changing your routine for it either. 

As for you, you decided to focus all your attention on what turned out to be a surprisingly engrossing project. You weren’t exactly an avid gardener, but you had fond memories of doing similar activities when you were a child and with the young students back in your hometown, which was where the sunflower seeds came from. It gave you a certain sense of pride to watch over them as they grew, slowly but surely, under your care.  

Of course, it wasn’t all thanks to you. These sunflowers were of a specific breed, one that required plenty of water—about three weeks of constant watering—to ensure the seeds could germinate properly. In your region, sunflowers were usually planted just before the rainy season in order to take advantage of all the precipitation, but it was summer now—the rainy season had long passed.  

You mentioned the matter to Neuvillette, who said he would see what he could do. You imagined that he would have sprinklers installed or something. 

What you did not expect was the daily rains that came after you planted the seeds. 

Each day, there would be two rounds of showers. One in the middle of the morning, when most people were at work or school, and one in the afternoon (strangely, it always ended around the time that Neuvillette came home). It was more like a faint drizzle than a shower, a light curtain of mist over the world. You didn’t even need an umbrella.  

You were no expert on rain, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of calculated deliberateness in the weather. The housekeeper remarked that it was quite out of season, more fitting for spring than summer. 

Whatever the case, you were very thankful for it. 

After the rain, the sun would come out brighter than ever, as though to make up for lost time. That was your favorite time to go into the garden. The heat of the sun’s rays shining down upon your back felt pleasant, and you swore that the scent of the grass and flowers after the rain had some sort of addictive quality to it.  

Neuvillette never said anything about these suspiciously timely rains, so you didn’t either. But this mystery was something you turned over in your mind quite often. 

You looked at the dining room window. The ghost was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper. You weren’t fooled of course. You could feel its gaze burning into the side of your head just a few seconds ago. 

The ghost was staying within the dim shadows cast by the afternoon sunlight that streamed into the dining room. That was good. After all, you knew that it would fade away if it stepped outside. The ghost should really learn to leave things to other people and relax. You had already made it clear to him that the sunflowers were your responsibility, and that he should just wait patiently until they bloom in two months, so— 

The ghost, seeming to sense your gaze, turned his head to you. Driven by a sudden vindictive urge, you gave a little wave and saw the ghost jerk a little in his chair. You stifled a laugh.  

Who knew ghosts could be adorable? 

The dining room continued to be full of ripples at dinner. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, the ghost has not gone away. In fact, it is now haunting the dining room.” 

The young woman calmly took a sip of her stew and met the lilac eyes across from her. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Madame. It troubles me greatly as well. I do know of one way to rid us of this ghost, though.” 

“Oh, what is it? Why haven’t you done it yet?” 

“That is because it requires your assistance.” 

“What do I need to do?” 

“Allow me to accompany you in the garden, of course.” 

The young woman blinked. It was evident that she had not expected that direct appeal. “Why?” 

“To make the ghost disappear.” 

“But you know how long I spend outside in the sun. I can’t ask you to accompany me for so long, especially after a long day at work.” 

“I’m not so fragile that I can’t withstand a bit of sunlight.” 

“I can’t forget that expression on your face when you joined me in the back garden the last time. It was heartbreaking.” 

“...Was it that terrible?” 

“Yes,” the young woman nodded vigorously. “There’s nothing about what I’m doing that would necessitate you needing to accompany me, anyways. It’s incredibly dull work. You would have a far better time staying inside.” 

There was a brief, weighted silence. The young woman shuffled her feet anxiously. 

“I would not make such assumptions.” The master’s voice sounded more solemn than usual, a contrast to the lighter tone he normally used at home. “For one thing, you seemed to be enjoying yourself with this so-called dull work.” 

“That’s because I—” She was cut off before she could finish her sentence. 

“I won’t argue with you anymore, Madame. You need not worry. The ghost will disappear in due time.” 

The rest of the dinner was spent in silence. But as they say, still waters run deep. 

This is probably payback for how I was acting before, you mused to yourself as you rubbed one of the leaves between your fingers. I think I just have a really warped personality. 

When you first moved in, you had been curious about him. But out of a desire to not disturb his life any more than you already did, you opted to watch him discreetly (or so you thought). It was an embarrassing time that you still blushed to remember even now. 

But afterwards, you told him that you would like to be friends with him, and he agreed. Yet here you were... 

Though the curtains were drawn now, you didn’t even need to turn your head to know that the ghost—no need for this pretense anymore, it was Neuvillette—was sitting in his usual spot behind the window. It was as though he was a cursed spirit, unable to move on from this world. 

I thought we were somewhat alike...but I guess not. I just can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

You sighed. You genuinely didn’t want him to force himself and to take it easy, but there was another aspect to it. The idea of someone wanting to accompany you in such a monotonous activity simply never occurred to you in the first place, so you automatically rejected it. You enjoyed solitude and doing things on your own. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was your natural state of being that you couldn’t quite break out of. If you had the choice to do something on your own or with someone else, you would go with the first option most of the time. It had become second nature for you to brush people off.  

You assumed that Neuvillette was like you in that way, that he also felt more comfortable being in his own company.  

But being comfortable with something...isn’t the same as liking it all the time. 

Your throat felt a bit parched. “I need water...” you muttered to yourself. But just as you were getting up to go back into the house, the housekeeper Marie came out of the door with a cup of water. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette thought you might be thirsty. He said that this was your favorite,” Marie said. 

You stared at the clear liquid in the cup. It looked just like the water you’d get from the tap. Neuvillette had you taste a lot of samples from his collection—you probably said one of them was your favorite at some point. He remembered it, because of course he did.  

You still didn’t really understand this whole water tasting business, but he always seemed so pleased when you asked him questions and wanted him to elaborate on the mouthfeel (or whatever it was). The way his eyes would light up, the way his voice would soften, made you want to keep going along with him. 

Neuvillette, you were slowly learning, was a terribly sincere person. So sincere that it was a little embarrassing for someone as jaded and awkward as you. 

He said it looked like you were enjoying yourself. What kind of expression did you make when you were outside with the sunflowers? Did Neuvillette see it?  

What did it say about you that you liked that he saw it? 

There’s probably something wrong with me... 

You emptied the cup in one big swig. It tasted like regular water, but the taste lingered in your mouth long after you finished it. 

You told him that you weren’t going to let the Chief Justice dig around in the dirt and that he should leave it to you. He didn’t understand why it was okay for you to get dirt on your clothes. He wanted to tell you that he had no qualms about getting stains on his clothes or even his hair if it was for your sake. 

You told him to stay inside where it was cool and shady instead of keeping you company in the sun, where it was bright and hot. He disliked summer, though he always kept this opinion to himself because it was the favorite season of the citizens of Fontaine. It appeared that you were no exception. He thought he could put up with it a little. Maybe with regular breaks under the porch. 

You told him that he should look forward to seeing the sunflowers when they bloom in a couple of months and that there was no need to be concerned about them right now. You would take care of them until then. Time had always been a trivial thing to a long-lived being like him, but now, it felt irritatingly omnipresent. Rather than being in the thrall of something so oppressive, he would rather while away the hours with you until that time came. 

You were kind and considerate in your refusals. You shared your notes with him in the parlor. But you made it very clear to him. 

This was your domain. Your kingdom for you alone to reign over and no one else. 

Very well. If that was your wish, so be it. 

But still, might I be allowed a small glimpse into it? 

He supposed that he had no right to ask that. There were many things about his work, duties, and identity that he could never divulge to you or anyone else.  

The window glass only refracted the bothersome sunlight in awkward angles. It irritated his eyes. He had to learn to position himself so that he could stay in the shadows and look at the garden at the same time.  

If he had but one selfish wish, it would be that you might perform this work later in the day, when the sun was not quite so glaring and the air cooler. Maybe then, you would permit him to be by your side. But one thing he found both endearing and frustrating about you—you were stubbornly set in your ways when it came to the things you cared deeply about. 

You wore a large straw hat with a floppy brim when you worked. He himself had no strong opinion on them, except for the knowledge that most of the ones he tried made him look faintly ridiculous. He was aware that they were popular among the fashionable ladies and gentlemen in the Court of Fontaine, popularized by Furina’s well-publicized love for them. He was familiar with the ordinance passed a few years ago that limited the heights of the hats in the opera house, on account of the complaints that they obstructed the view greatly. He liked the one you wore for your wedding. 

But he couldn’t say that he was terribly fond of hats at the moment.  

They really do obstruct the view...he thought as you pulled down the brim, hiding your eyes. 

He saw your mouth scrunch in concentration as you stuck your ruler in the soil, carefully lining up the notches with the top of the plant. After you confirmed the height, you dutifully jotted down the number in your notebook. The corners of your mouth turned up a little, or was that just a trick of the light? Did the sunflower grow taller than you expected? Ah, how he wished he could see what gave you that look on your face. 

Sometimes, you would lie down on your stomach. You brought a blanket outside for that reason. He was glad for that, since the grass was usually damp after the rain. It would distress him greatly if you caught a cold.  

You seemed to enjoy feeling the leaves between your fingers. It feels really nice, you told him. He also started to rub the leaves when he left for work in the morning and found that he agreed with you. 

The wind sometimes blew your hair into your face, and you would tuck your hair behind your ear, only to have the effort be in vain when the wind came again. His fingers would twitch on these occasions. He didn’t know why.  

Once, he had almost leapt out of his seat when he heard you yelp and jump away from the sunflower plot. A bee had flown past your cheek. 

Once, you went out to look at the garden when it was raining. It was when the first of the strange rains had begun. He directed his gaze to his house and saw you walking back and forth in front of the tiny seedlings like a general in front of rows of soldiers. The tiny raindrops looked like pearls in your hair. He had felt somewhat guilty about manipulating the elements to this extent and ruining a great many Fontainians’ day, but that guilt had mysteriously disappeared after he saw your sparkling eyes. 

Neuvillette knew very well how pathetic and unnerving his actions were right now. 

He understood that according to human etiquette, staring at people without reason was considered terribly offensive. He himself preferred to avoid the public gaze when he was off work.  

In the early days of his interactions with humans, watching and observing was how he learned to fit into society. Humans had always fascinated him, but the nature of that fascination changed throughout the years.  

Perhaps this is just the next stage of it, he mused.  

From observing many humans from above to a single one in close proximity.  

But he didn’t think he was learning anything. In fact, he found himself more confounded and self-conscious than ever. 

Why do you sometimes smile and sometimes not? Why do you draw me closer sometimes and sometimes push me away? What should I be doing? What is this restlessness whenever I see you on the other side of the window...? 

Perhaps this was what it was to form a bond with another person. Fumbling around in the dark, trying to figure out how each other worked, what was off-limits and what wasn’t.  

The rays of sunlight momentarily disappeared. A passing cloud blocked the sun. Then another. Then another. 

Ah...how troublesome... 

Neuvillette anxiously glanced out the window. You seemed to have noticed the clouds as well, for you were frowning up at the sky.  

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his roiling emotions. But the worry that he would ruin your day only added to them. He could almost taste the first raindrop that would make its way to the ground. 

A knock on the window glass startled him out of his concentration. He opened his eyes and saw you standing in front of it, staring at him. “Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said. 

Neuvillette got up from his chair and moved to the window. It was the only thing separating the two of you. As ever, he was unable to read the emotions in your eyes. 

“What is it, Madame?” He could see droplets scattering onto the ground. How he longed to be outside right now. Perhaps that would calm his disturbed heart. 

“Let’s sit together in the back garden. I want to take a break.” 

“In this weather, Madame?” 

“It’s only a little bit of rain. I’ll be sitting under the canopy, anyways, so I'll be fine. But you don’t have to join me if you don’t want to...” you looked away, as if a bit embarrassed. “It’ll be well within your right to refuse me.” 

“No, I’ll happily accept your invitation.” The speed at which the words came out of his mouth surprised even himself. 

You nodded. There was no smile on your face. “I’ll see you there, then, sir.”  

You proceeded to go to the back of the house. Neuvillette turned around and found Marie standing there, holding a bowl of watermelon diced into cubes and a pack of toothpicks. 

“Share these with Madame, sir,” she said, holding them out to him. 

He thanked her and accepted them, then walked swiftly to the patio doors. However, on his way there, his hair seemed to have chosen the worst moment to take on a life of its own. It seemed determined to get caught in every crack and crevice. By the time he emerged onto the veranda, the rain was steadily pattering onto the canopy. 

Thankfully, you were already there and seemed to have escaped the rain. You were staring out at the white sky, lost in thought. You looked up when you heard the doors open. 

“Madame--” 

“Oh, watermelon!” you exclaimed when you saw the bowl. You stood up and took the bowl and toothpicks from him, then stuck a pick into a watermelon cube and brought it to your mouth. He watched you as you savored the refreshing fruit. 

You looked up in surprise when you saw him still standing. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” 

Neuvillette cleared his throat. “Madame, I must apologize to you for my disgraceful behavior over the past few weeks. It is no way for a lady like you to be treated. I swear to you, I will never do it again. I shall leave you be.” 

You were silent as you ate several more watermelon cubes. Your face was closed tightly, like the doors of a tomb. Neuvillette’s heart sank a little. The rain intensified a little. 

“You really should sit down, sir,” you said after a while. “I don’t like having you stand while I sit.” 

You patted the chair next to you, and he obliged. He crossed his legs almost automatically before deciding against it. It felt too casual. 

There was more silence. The moist air usually calmed him down, but his brain was occupied by the horrifying possibility that you might not forgive him, that you might not speak to him ever again, that... 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I forgive you.” 

The words struck him like a lightning bolt. “...You do?” 

“Yes,” you said. You still weren’t smiling, but something in your eyes changed. They looked lighter, like storm clouds had receded. “I mean, it certainly was off-putting at first, and I definitely don’t recommend that you do this to any other ladies. You’re very lucky that I'm so merciful.” 

You smiled a little bit there. It reminded him of the sun peeking over gray clouds. He always felt a sense of disappointment at that sight, but right now all he wanted to do was to carve the image into his memory.  

“I would never,” He was so elated that he almost missed the first part of what you said. “Wait, did you say, ‘at first’?” 

Now you looked embarrassed. “I got used to it at some point, but then I started thinking about how you must feel, and that made me realize...I haven’t been fulfilling our promise to be friends at all.” 

After you said that, you proceeded to eat three more watermelon cubes in succession. He noticed that your cheeks were dusted with red.  

“How did you think I felt?” What a novel thing to have someone try to guess his emotions. He unconsciously leaned forward a little, curious to hear what you were going to say. 

You seemed a bit taken aback and lowered your eyes. “Well...I thought you might have been feeling a little hurt and confused about why I kept pushing you away, and probably quite disgruntled about being treated like a child who doesn’t know his limits. I’m guessing it’s that mix of emotions that made you behave in such an uncharacteristic manner.” 

“Uncharacteristic manner? I’m curious to know just what you think is in character for me.” 

“A gentleman who knows well enough to stare at young ladies so intently.” 

Neuvillette cannot deny that he felt a jab in his heart at your words, but he knew that he deserved it. It felt like he was back in his early days, stumbling blindly through the basic tenets of human etiquette. He was about to apologize once again, but then you continued. 

“But I think...you probably also felt lonely,” your voice was softer now, like the gentle whisper of the rain. Despite that, it reached his ears clearly and distinctly. “And I don’t want you to feel that way. Especially in your own home. So if you want...you can accompany me when I’m out in the garden. Or continue to watch me from the window. Although, this is your house, so you don’t really need my permission to do anything...” 

“Ah, but how can I do that, Madame? I can’t possibly intrude into your kingdom without your express permission.” 

“...Huh?” You stared at him quizzically.  

“Never mind that,” he shook his head. The watermelon looked vibrantly red and juicy, even more so than before. He used a toothpick to bring one to his mouth. The sweetness filled his mouth and quenched the dryness he hadn’t even realized was there. 

“Was I right?” you asked, putting your chin in your hands. “Did I guess your feelings correctly? I’m not very good at this kind of thing.” 

Neuvillette thought your question over in his mind. Hurt, confusion, disgruntlement...those emotions might have flitted through his heart like minnows at one point.  

But loneliness...that was far more than an emotion to him. It was his natural state of being, one that he had chosen to take on. It had been with him so long that when it was pointed out to him, it became a revelation all over again. 

You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were like mirrors. Lying to them would be lying to himself, and that was something the Iudex didn’t do. 

“You’re right,” he said, gazing straight into those mirrors. “I was feeling somewhat lonely.” 

You blinked. Then you closed your eyes and nodded. “Okay then,” you said and stood up. “Let’s go look at the sunflowers together.” 

The rain had stopped a short time ago. The sky was blue again, and the remaining rain clouds were quickly dissipating. 

Neuvillette also stood up and winced. His hair got caught in the gaps of his chair and he had to untangle it. You didn’t appear to notice. 

The two of you went to stand at the sunflower plot side by side. The sprouts were small and weighed down by the raindrops, but they continued to aim upwards all the same.  

Taglist:@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz, @rosedpetal

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #genshin fluff #the winding path of fate

[dybdahlsvisitportugalspainfrance]

Evora

September 6, 2021

What a day!!! We left Lisboa today and headed east to Evora pronounced EV-or-a. Evora is this delightful walled city - but that has to wait because we had many wonderful adventures before we got here. We left Lisboa via the Vasco da Gama Bridge - the longest bridge in Europe - 12 miles long.

To get there we transversed a beautiful neighborhood called Parque das Nações (Park of Nations) built for the Lisboa's 1998 World Expo (think "World's Fair." This beautiful well planned and VERY pricey area housed the expositions of the more than 100 countries that participated. After the Expo the area became a beautiful community, complete with schools, hospitals, grocery stores and office space. It even had its own train station, (below) Aquarium and Casino.

We all enjoy driving through this area and seeing some beautiful sites - albeit from the bus.

We even saw the statue of "Gil" the mascot of the Expo. Carolina said that no descent Portuguese child would be without some form of "Gil" during that time.

It was not long after we exited the bridge that we found ourselves in the country - truly on the backroads. Our first stop was at a small tile store where we got a demonstration and then got to try our hand at painting our own tile.

Some people opted for freehand - but I used a stencil. I choose a Rooster because the Rooster a symbol of Portugal. "WHY?" You ask. Because of this CLEARLY TRUE story: (The details escape me - but here you go... I apologize in advance to the good Portuguese people for my rendition of this story. ) A good Portuguese man was accused of a crime and at the time - that meant hanging. Every descent town at the time had a pillory. But the man protested. He looked at the chicken on the platter and said something like - "If I am innocent, that chicken will rise up and declare it." But the baked bird just stay on the platter... So off he went to be hung. Just as the rope was being put around his neck.. COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!! And the man was saved!! Justice was done - as it is in all of Portugal! So, I picked the rooster! Here is my pathetic rooster pre-firing.  Stay tuned to see what it looks like later!

I think it looks like a bird with a squirrel tale - but this is not my area of talent. Oh-well. It was fun.

Next we went to a cheese museum. Our friends, Tom & Nora, took this tour a few years ago and have stayed in contact with the delightful woman who owns this farm, Filipa. They really hoped we would connect with her and occasionally things go exactly as planned.

Mark looks strange here but Filipa and I look good - so this is the pic.

She makes sheep milk cheese and we got to make our own. The process is fascinating and took much less time than I imagined.

The liquid running down the table is whey and that is used to make ricotta. We got to pack the cheese into the small molds and do a little more squeezing and then it went on the table. The other surprise was that she told us to use the liquid on our hands and rub it in. It is 100% fat and as such made a great moisturizer. My hands felt great all day. Our "starter" for lunch was cheese, cheese, cheese and cheese and chutney. Each "cheese" was the same cheese at a different age - from newly squeezed by us to 3 weeks old. DELICIOUS!!!

We had a fabulous lunch with lots of farm fresh foods and then we were on our way.

The next stop was at a cork factory. Absolutely fascinating! First - what is cork? This is the answer I like best: Cork is the outer bark of the cork oak tree.

The cork trees, from which cork is harvested, are evergreen trees of the family of oaks and chestnut trees. These trees only exist in some Mediterranean countries - Portugal, Spain, Italy, France, Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria. The cork oak is the only tree whose bark regenerates itself, acquiring a smoother texture after each extraction. It may be harvested about 17 times over a longevity that is on average 200 years. Removing the bark does not hurt the tree - but actually keeps it healthier. I could go on and on about this - but watch this video and then read the explaining. They do a much better job than I could ever do. After that are some pics i took. You just don't know what you don't know!!!

The trees are beautiful and because they are cork oats produce acorns.

The pigs love these acorns and this area is not only famous for the cork - but also for the pork and pork products.

We learned so much and so enjoyed this discovery day!!

From here we headed to Evora and our first pousada - Covento de Evora. Pousadas are old monestaries, castles, palaces, nunneries, etc that are now owned by the state and serve as top notch hotels while keeping the history of the place.

And what is Annie taking a picture of?????

It looks beautiful at night too!

Here is the history of this pousada:

We are cell 115.

I'm pretty sure this is way nicer than it was when this place was peopled with monks.

More on this place later.

Stay tuned!

[herbstseurope2023]

Morning of day 2 in Barcelona

This morning we woke up from a GREAT night of sleep (we went almost 24 hours without a good sleep) and headed to get a small breakfast and then Sagrada Familia. We had coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice (I’m tempted to buy a European orange juice machine because of how delicious the orange juice is!) along with breakfast pastries from a nearby cafe. After that we went to the Sagrada Familia which is a beautiful catholic church designed by Antoni Gaudi in 1882 that is still being built. We walked around and did an audio tour. It was absolutely amazing! The architecture and grandness (idk it that’s actually a word) was mind blowing. The church is 172 meters high (which is basically 32 cars stacked on top of each other) and even so, the tallest part is still being built. The walls are full of stained glass and arches that represent trees. After that we came home for a little break, and then headed to lunch. We went to a cute brunch place for lunch. We all shared some tapas like Spains traditional “tortilla de patatas” (potato tortilla), and we got entrees like Italian lasagna, bocadillos (sandwiches), and pancakes. Overall the food was delicious!

- Marin

Here’s some pictures down below and a little description of each of them:

1. The ceiling of the inside of Sagrada Familia. It is meant to represent a forest with each arch representing a tree with branches.

2. The back of Sagrada Familia. You can see a sculpture of Jesus on the cross in the middle top.

3. The front of Sagrada Familia. The picture doesn’t even do it justice to how huge it is, you might also notice some cranes since its still being built.

4. The back of Sagrada Familia. This pic is a bit blurry, but its a cryptogram where almost every way you look (kinda like a sudoku), the numbers add up to 33 (the estimated age of death of Jesus). I thought it was pretty cool.

5. Me about to eat the “tortilla de patatas.” It’s a dish made up of a potato egg casserole and bread with tomato.

6. Another picture inside of Sagrada Familia.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 43 EDDARD XI (pages 446-454)

Ned is petitioned for vengeance justice by the survivors of an assault lead by the Mountain, Gregor Clegane. Ned sends Lord Beric Dondarrion and a party of men off to try.

-

Through the high narrow windows of the Red Keep's cavernous throne room, the light of sunset spilled across the floor, layering dark red stripes upon the walls where the heads of dragons had once hung. Now the stone was covered with hunting tapestries, vivid with green and browns and blues, and yet it seemed to Ned Stark that the only color in the hall was the red of Blood.

Now ain't that just a metaphor for the whole bloody place?

He sat high upon the ancient seat of Aegon the Conqueror, an ironwork monstrosity of spikes and jagged edges and grotesquely twisted metal.

Was thinking to myself "is the chair younger than King's Landing which is itself only 300 odd years old? Can you really can a 300 year old chair ancient when Ned's family has lived in a castle built 8,000 years ago? What's a good word to encapsulate its history that doesn't make it seem so much older than it is?"

So anyway, the Iron Throne is Retro now.

"His Grace is hunting across the Blackwater, Ned said, wondering how a man could live his whole life a few days ride from the Red Keep and still have no notion what his king looked like.

*moves the marker for Ned Stark's estimated intelligence down a few notches*

A few days ride is A Lot if you have no real reason to travel it. If I was a peasant, I'd hope to go my whole life without having reason to meet or need to know the face of the king. If I had reason to see the king, it had better bloody be because I was in town for a trade and happened to catch a royal procession through the street. You genuinely think the 'small folk' give two shits what the king looks like as long as he's not interfering with their lives overly much? Cause Ned? If these people need to see the king? It's either because they're having his promo pics shoved in their faces, or something absolutely devastating has happened and they need to make an appeal in court, like say, what these people are doing right now!?!

Ned could feel cold steel against his fingers as he leaned forward. Between each finger was a blade, the points of twisted swords fanning out like talons from arms of the throne. Even after three centuries, some were still sharp enough to cut. The Iron Throne was full of traps for the unwary. The songs said it had taken a thousand blades to make it, heated white-hot in the furnace breath of Balerion the Black Dread. The hammering had taken fifty-nine days. The end of it was this hunched black beast made of razor edges and barbs and ribbons of sharp metal; a chair that could kill a man, and had, if the stories were to be believed.

Aegon the Conqueror was so freaking extra.

Also no wonder this ugly-ass chair is cursed AF. You can probably walk into that room and see the chairs corrupting malevolent aura, and everyone be like "psh, nah! that's just the smoke from the crapton of candles and torches we leave lying around."

This is one of those chapters where my fic loving brain is already writing fix it fics that amount to "and then (insert awesome team here) from (insert non ASOIAF fandom here) break not only the fourth wall but the fabric of space time and stomp (insert degenerate piece of garbage masquerading as a human being here) into the ground!!!"

NGL, I would love to see Gregor squished under the foot of a Zord. Or char-grilled by a Charizard.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #ned stark #eddard stark #a chapter a day reading #got

[master-tonberry]

I can't believe you're a Chrono fan, too! //sobs// Do you have a fave character from them? Frog is my fave from Trigger, and in Cross, I'm incapable of playing any track that doesn't feature Razzly. She's my bae, but then again, so is Harle.

In a million years, I don't think I would have expected anyone to answer "corvid" to my animal question. I LOVE it!

I also love your little dream farm. I will stop by it and buy a few candles for my treehouse, too, because that's also where I live. I think between the Ewoks, Lothlórien elves, and Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves treehouse setup, I was destined to live amongst the trees. Please put lots of peppermint in my soaps and candles though so I can keep the spiders away. I hate spiders. :(

The Shoot Out styling was IN-SANE, agree.

GRAY HAIR WONNIE IS MY FAVE, TOO, followed closely by long black hair Wonnie. <3

Of all the boys, I think Jooheon pulls of blonde the best, yes. But I have to tell you that I am very angry with this image of him you shared because a boy in a white tee and jeans is probably my greatest weakness, and then you had to up the ante with a full-blown dimples smile, too? Are you *trying* to kill me, friendo?

Okay, so, I'm in a weird mood and feel like lobbing another bizarre hypothetical at you, so good luck with this unhinged reality...

You and Hyungwon are planning a heist. Help me fill in the blanks.

What are you robbing: a museum, a jewelry store, a billionaire's house, a Fortune 500 company?

Why: money, rebellion, vengeance, justice?

You need one other member on your team. Who do you pick from Monsta X and why?

Are you the inside man, the getaway driver, or the distraction?

Leading up to the big day, your nerves are getting the better of you. How do you show it?

After the heist, you get the hell outta Dodge. Where in the world do you hide out? Do you and your team stay together or do you all go your separate ways?

What do you do with your loot once you know you've gotten away scot-free?

Told you, weird mood. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hope you had a killer weekend!

xoxo mbb secret santa <3

Hello friend!! It's been kind of a rough week for me, so I'm glad to hear from you. Your asks always make me smile ❤️

Okay, listen. Don't judge me, but way back when I first played Chrono Cross, for some reason I shipped Karsh and Norris like it was my JOB?? So I'm very partial to them, but I also love Harle and Riddel too. Razzly is SO GOOD, you are 100% correct to pick her.

Also I'm sorry about that Jooheon pic, let me make it up to you with another one haaaahahahahaha ❤️❤️

Okay, on to the hypothetical!

So we're definitely robbing a billionaire's house and it's to recover gems that were stolen and sold to the billionaire on the black market. Who were they stolen from? I don't know, pick your favorite! I'm partial to "they were stolen from colonized people and we're like fucking Robin Hood, here to take them back".

It's gonna be me, Hyungwon, and Changkyun (because he knows how to keep quiet and its basically impossible to shake him). I'm the planner/inside man - the billionaire hired me six months ago as a personal secretary and I've been scoping the place out, making plans, and recruiting. Changkyun is our distraction because I think he can keep a straight face while he pretends to be an investor in some scheme the billionaire has going on. Hyungwon is going to help me execute the heist and then get us tf out of there.

I tend to get short tempered when I'm nervous, so I can definitely see picking a fight with Changkyun because I don't think he'd put up with me lol. Hyungwon would have to play peace keeper for sure.

But of course we'd pull it off and then head up to a cabin I had conveniently purchased at least two years prior to the heist (in anticipation of needing a hideout but also just bc I love a nice quiet cabin up in the mountains) and hide out for a while. The place would be close enough to a small town that I could get supplies, and the town would be small enough that the people there wouldn't trust any outsiders that came around (especially since I already got in good with them when I bought the cabin) so we'd wait for the heat to die down and then quietly return the jewels to their rightful owners. Who, you know, aren't obligated to give us a reward but they would anyway. Happy ending!

Hope you had a great day today! I can't wait for your next ask! 😊

#mbb secret santa