#if i just devote like all the days order runs on to farming it…..

[electric-plants]

the temptation i have to pivot from perfecting his artifacts to getting the last talent mats for wriothesley instead like i nearly have enough to triple crown him already…..it wouldn’t take much…….

[the-artist-grimm]

What doctrines did the lamb choose and have they ever sacrifice someone?

Crimson Angel AU - Doctrines, Governing, Rites, and More

This is gonna be a long one! Gonna be going over Doctrines, the way the Cult is governed, and how the Sin Rites work within the lamb, Anthea's, cult!

(since world-building is fun and I got a lot of ideas-though I apologize in advance for how much this diverts a bit from in-game/how longgggg this is lol)

Also the pretty boarders are by @/lambouillet

Doctrines

Sustenance

Ritual Feast

Grass Eater (Only relied on in emergencies once farms are set up)

Ritual of Harvest

Belief in Prohibition

Afterlife

Belief in Afterlife

Ritual of Resurrection/Funeral (Anthea has both-followers can pick what they'd prefer prior)

Respect Your Elders (especially since the elder, Nona, rules the kitchen) 

Grieve the Fallen

Work and Worship

Faithful Trait

Inspire

The Glory of Construction

Holy Day

Law and Order

Ascend Follower Ritual

Wedding

Belief in Absolution

Loyalty Enforcer (Really just Anthea having someone trustworthy in charge when out crusading-if there's any issues, fights, ect. its that person's job to settle it or at least get it under control till the lamb returns. If gone for more than 3 days Anthea also has Ratau come by to assist the enforcer, though later on Narinder takes on that role) 

Possessions

Extort Tithes (Funds typically are used to obtain rare goods from the market in Pilgram's Passage, such as specialty herbs for the medical tent or kitchens, metals for the smith, specialty tools, weapons to give missionaries, that sort of thing)

Belief in Materialism (Anthea has a major focus early-on on setting up more permanent settlements) 

Ritual of Enrichment

Devotee Trait

Sacrifice

Sacrifice is something Anthea has only done once (technically twice as it was two people in one), but it was only as a last resort. When they and Narinder managed to figure out how to revive the twins, and realized that it was via properly breaking the spell which chained him as intended through the sacrifice of a devote heart, the lamb didn't want to go through with it as it went against their promise to protect those in their care.

Yet, unbeknownst to the two, the followers had been realizing something was amiss throughout the week the two were figuring it out. A pair of terroir twins, Poppy and Tristen, had been tasked by the others with spying on the two to find out what, then reported back to everyone what they overheard. From there they all debated on how to proceed, knowing the Lamb wouldn't pick a sacrifice on their own. Everything from finding heretics to trick into being devote to drawing straws was discussed, until two volunteers came forward.

The next day during sermon, an older couple stood and offered themselves as sacrifice, citing that as they never were able to bear children of their own, giving themselves so Aym and Baal could live would be the symbolic next best thing. And though Anthea repeatedly asked if they were certain, a week later the sacrifice went through. But ever since the lamb has had no interest in ever doing such a thing again.

Within the graveyard plot the Lamb set their own family's empty graves they placed two more for the couple, as their bodies were completely turned to ash and lost to the ritual.

Day to Day

Within the Cult it's run more-so akin to a village rather than a proper 'Cult'. Everyone has a job to help the community as a whole, from farming, to carpentry, mining, med-bay, kitchen, tailor, and so on. There is a statue for prayer in the town center, but it's typically just people stopping by to say a quick prayer before moving on with their day, rather than sitting before it for hours praying.

Anthea has little interest in actually running the cult as a proper cult, and instead prefers to have everyone work towards building a proper community and settlement instead (hence why they don't like the idea of making people sit around praying-there's far more productive uses of their skills/time). Everyone there has lost it all-their homes, their families, their old lives-they have nowhere to go, and the lamb remembers how they felt when their own village was destroyed. They want the cult to be a safe harbor for people who need a new home.

That leading to greater faith wasn't entirely Anthea's intention, but it proved to be an excellent means of naturally raising faith/loyalty to them. People are less likely to dissent if they actually feel cared for, and to live in a cult that felt like a breath of fresh air? Where a new life could be found, a new family, a new home? Followers follow the lamb because they know Anthea's someone who genuinely wants to help them, and they are a lot more understanding and cooperative during hardships because of that as well. Where the Bishops lead by fear which can break loyaltys the second someone stronger appears, Anthea leads with their heart, which creates a following willing to stand beside them.

Sermons are held in the morning just after breakfast and are rather peaceful, and while outside of Sunday none are mandatory, most still attend daily regardless. Anthea's sermon scripts draw inspiration from their collection of Death tomes that predated Narinder's imprisonment (which depicted him as a gentle god of death and sleep), their own faith in Narinder that'd been built over years of praying to him prior to becoming a vessel, and some of their own memories of loss without letting on just how much they still grieve. (like everyone knows the Lamb is the last of their kind. But they just don't really realize how much that fact still haunts them. It's just assumed 'oh they lost everything but they're ok now! Look, they're trying to make things right!' which...isn't great but the followers do realize Anthea's carrying more grief than they let on eventually).

Sermon is still attended daily by choice as it is this time where followers can sit and reflect on those they've lost, but then be comforted by the thought that someone kind was there to greet their loved ones in the end. Death is framed as less of something to fear, and more of a final rest-which when every day is uncertain with the Bishops still in control, is reassuring. Anthea's voice is also just nice to listen to, during sermons their voice softens into this gentle tone followers can find comfort in.

During Sunday post-sermon Townhall (which townhall is why it's mandatory), followers are invited to stand and report issues, request materials, give errands for the Lamb to run in the other areas of the Old Faith, and the Lamb in turn makes sure everyone's updated on the situation outside the cult. Very few are allowed to leave the grounds unless accompanied by the Lamb or deemed capable (such as former Bishop Disciples who can fight/Missionary Talisman Holders that are magically protected) due to the danger that lies beyond the holy grounds from heretics and monsters, and thus Anthea likes to try and keep everyone from wondering too much about what's going on. Ignorance doesn't equal bliss, and thus the lamb prefers keeping them in the know as opposed to letting what-ifs fester.

And so Anthea keeps track of things they come across while crusading, such as currently standing villages being reported back alongside destroyed ones, the status of the various areas (such as Darkwood's difficulty rising post-Leshy's fall) being given, new locations reported (such as the path to Smuggler's Sanctuary opening where a hidden night market offers rarer goods like books, various alcohols, and other less easily acquired goods) and letters are also passed out or given to the Lamb for delivery. Though couriers cannot easily travel due to the dangers out there, Pilgrim's Passage does hold a sort of mail house within its village, where people can drop off letters and pick up their own, allowing people keep in touch with or even invite relatives to join the cult.

(I like to image that there's more settlements than just the Lamb's Cult, the Bishops Cults, and the in-game map locations. At some point I wanna put together a post expanding each area's extra elements/new ones)

Sin Rites Alterations

After the crown informs the Lamb on the Sin Rites, Anthea is somewhat uncomfortable with much of their practices due to both its descriptions, and the various former Bishop Disciples reporting similar Rites as causing anything from violence, to havoc, to unrest, to just straight up chaos within their own cults when held. Sin Rites often cause followers to act in ways they typically would not by heightening, anger, lust, desire, or other things, and it doesn't really sit right with them to force that.

As such since Anthea prefers to maintain an order to their cult since that reinforces the follower's ease of mind/trust that they'll be safe, the rites are altered and broken down into their base sin elements so that the crown can still obtain sin, but without causing disorder/discomfort among the cultists.

(it also very much goes against Anthea's nature to do most of the rites, and would be out of character for them to even consider using them as-is, hence why I've modified them for Crimson Angel.)

🌸Spring Festival - Draws from Rite of Lust🌸

Sins: Pride, Lust

As a celebration of the coming of spring, the Spring Festival traditionally was seen as an event where people spent the day outside enjoying picnics in the nicer weather while watching the flowers blooming on trees.  Now, while it still is a day for that, drawing from the fertile elements of the Rite of Lust, garlands of flowers decorate the grounds and flower crowns are woven and worn by all cultists, with it becoming a bit of a trend to try and gift your crown to someone special by the end of the night as there now includes a festival dance after sunset. People dress in flowy embroidered robes to look their best as well. Throughout the night many who are of age try to confess to the person(s) they are interested in, and as the festival does line up with a lot of cultists mating seasons, it isn’t unheard of for followers to sneak off somewhere private. Anthea does however set a hard rule on that everyone is to remain decent while in public, and that anyone caught getting handsy where they shouldn't will be punished via assisting Nona in the kitchen for a week, which the threat of having to help the old lady in the kitchen scares most into behaving.

🌞Summer Solstice - Draws from Rite of Wrath🌞

Sins: Wrath, Envy, Pride

Originally only viewed as a celebration of the longest day of the year and marked via a bonfire celebration, the Summer Solstice now includes a series of games and competitions, ranging from foot-races, to archery matches, to knucklebones, to swordsmanship, and so on with other activities. Events are at first just single, but as time goes on are later divided into Kids, Teens, and Adults sections to ensure fairness. To those who win, ribbons are presented as prizes. (so think akin to school field day or the Olympics) The elements of Wrath are transformed into a more constructive competitiveness through the events, with hints of envy naturally occurring from those who lose a match. It is, however, all just for fun at the end of the day, with the ribbons simply being little pretty things to keep as opposed to anything too special. An unintentional side-effect also means that more cultists learn how to protect themselves in preparing for competing, permitting more the ability to take on errands outside the cult over time. (which, in-turn, eases Anthea's burden of being the primary person gathering supplies)

🍂Fall Festival - Draws from Gluttony of Cannibals🍂

Sins - Gluttony 

Traditionally marking the ending of the harvest season, it has few alterations. During the day everyone works to can, dry, prep, and store the harvest gathered, with the best of each crop prepared for a huge feast held in the evening to celebrate everyone’s hard work. The only addition is teams of hunters are also sent out to hunt critters (which are considered separate from the typical sentient animals) and to catch fish to bring back for the carnivores and omnivores' winter stores, which as the years go on turn from just going out on the day of, to heading out a week beforehand to return with a larger haul to dry, salt, smoke, and store. Cannibalism, is however, EXTREAMLY PROHIBITED considering how they have a perfectly good harvest.

❄️Winter Solstice - Sinners' Pride❄️

Sins - Gluttony, Greed, Sloth

Traditionally marking the shortest day of the year, it is the only festival without any alterations due to the nature of the existing traditions lining up right. All cultists are given the day off from work, allowing everyone to trade gifts and spend the day with their families, to go out into the snow, and to see the stars and northern lights as a bonfire burns in the cult’s center, which for three days after there is still no work to allow everyone rest, as it’s also one of the coldest times of year.  Trees are often decorated with candles, ornaments, and other pretty things, wreaths are hung, mistletoe hidden in the worst places just to catch others off guard, people make baked goods, ect-so think Christmas but leaning more into its Pagan origins.

🎃Bonus! Blood Moon Festival🎃

Works like in-game and occurs during a Blood Moon. Spirits appear around the cult-grounds that need to be taken care of by disciples and the Lamb, with costumes bring worn by all to help in scaring the ghosts off. As children start to be born into the Cult, they also begin a tradition of going door to door for candy to keep the kiddos busy and away from the darker areas ghosts tend to lurk in, and there's a festival with various games like pumpkin carving, apple bobbing, darts, a bonfire, and spooky story-time with Mx. Shamura in the town square. So basically Halloween.

Phew that was a lot of lore lol, but I wanted to also take the chance to explain how the Cult runs! A lot different from in-game, but again it just feels more in character for Anthea to run the cult as less than well, a cult, and more of a village.

Back when their own village was still around their family did play a huge role in it-their father Aries was the supply runner, with Anthea taking over his role once he died. That meant the lamb got used to speaking to the village leader and other elders in higher roles, so that's kinda what they're working off of. Had their village persisted, Anthea might've even joined the ranks of leadership in the village, at least in possibly training more supply runners and leading them on trips.

A thousand years plus of the Bishops rule which especially worsened post-Narinder's imprisonment also had a great deal of followers done with the traditional 'cult' life. The closest thing to typical 'cult' traditions is donning specific robes for rituals or everyone having something red on their person whether it be their main garment or an accessory, but even then the robes are because it's tradition (think wearing your Sunday best) and the red is more of a personal preference cultists have out of a desire to match their leader's cloak.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Would you ever write a modern AU one shot/headcanons that would include Varang in any way? I don't think I've seen anyone write anything about her in the modern world. Can you see any universe where she would date Quaritch and be Spider's stepmother?

I’m not opposed to it and as I thought about your ask I definitely got ideas that I’m excited to share!

First I’m personally not into the idea of Quaritch and Varang getting together. I think she’s going to be way more crazy and evil than he is pushing Quaritch more towards the good guys. I don’t think he going to have a redemption arc by any means (nor does he deserve one) but I think for the sake of Spider he’ll be a begrudging anti hero. Also I can’t deny despite the fact the actors are playing characters that our roughly in the same physical age range I can’t separate the actors massive age gap from their characters. If they got together I’d just be thinking about how someone in their thirties is making out with someone in their seventies and cringe. So yeah I just don’t want to see that.

As for some modern au ideas:

So I don’t think I’m really theorizing when I say Varang is going to be a cult leader. It seems pretty clear from everything we’ve learned.

So in a modern a.u she’d still be a cult leader. She runs a compound down in Texas that’s fully self sufficient and off the grid. On the surface it’s a utopia. She takes in every “lost soul” who comes her way. Drug addicts, homeless, queer people, gender non conforming people and just people disillusioned with life and wanting something better. And at first it is great. Everyone gets a room to themselves. They get to pick a job on property, farming, taking care of livestock, managing the power grid, making clothes, cooking, those kind of things. If they need medical care or mental health care they get it completely for free. There’s a real sense of community that most people have never felt before.

It creates the foundation for complete devotion to Varang. Varang saved you. Varang gave you a life. A family. And she is the head of that family. They worship her like their god every night. Listen to her preach about life and the way things should be. How the rest of the world is evil and cruel. How she is the only one that can protect them from that.

If you want to move up the ladder you have to show how devoted you are to Varang. The first step is getting Varang’s symbol branded on your body, typically on the shoulder or wrist. They wear bright red and all wear their hair in the same style regardless of gender identity.

Of course the cult gets into legal trouble every once in a while. Family members of cult members who are worried sick about their child, or sibling, or spouse and try to sue or involve the police to get them back. Varang orders her most loyal to send them a message. They send snakes and dead animals in boxes. Draw messages in blood on their driveways. Stand outside their work for hours to intimidate them.

Varang starts stockpiling weapons preparing for the day when they’ll have to make a stand against the government. It hasn’t come yet but they are ready. Ready for full on war.

As for a story since I write manly about Quaritch and Spider I have an idea set more in my Military Brat au where Quaritch is an overbearing dad raising his son as a single parent. He’s so strict and smothering that at age 16, Miles Jr, who he refuses to call by his chosen name Spider runs away from home. Spider having been raised like he was in the military is really good at staying gone, having no issue living in the woods, sneaking onto delivery trucks, trains and buses until he ends up in Texas. Quaritch is hunting him down the entire time terrified for his son.

While in Texas Spider gets found by a truck driver and the driver is pissed at his hitchhiker. Spider is running for dear life. The driver chases him with a gun. At some point in the chase Spider trips, falls down a steep hill and into the dense foliage at the bottom. On his way down his ankle catches on something and twists. Luckily he loses the truck driver but now he can’t walk. He wads up his shirt to bit down on while he sets his own ankle. Then he rips it into strips, takes some thick sticks and wraps it around his ankle to stabilize it. He painfully limps his way to the road. Cars pass him up for hours. It’s one in the morning he’s freezing cold and starving when a bright red car pulls up. There’s two people in there mid thirties inside dressed completely the same in the same shade of red as the car. It totally creeps him out but he’s desperate for help. He gets in the car.

The compound seems really nice on the surface but Spider’s stomach is still squirming. He’s immediately taken to the med bay to get his ankle properly treated. Then they show him to the bathroom so he can have a hot bath. A hearty meal and fresh clothes are waiting for him in his room. Spider stays there while he heals but of course he never gives into their brain washing. The nightly gatherings where they all worship Varang freak him the fuck out and everyone is just too docile. Like a heard of sheep. Once he’s fully healed he’ll run again. 

After some investigating Quaritch finds out Spider is there. He calls the cops to get his son back but they drag their feet. They explain to Quaritch that his son is in a dangerous cult. A cult that will violently retaliate if they go after them. The authorities know it’s them but they have no real evidence. But if they could get some evidence of wrongdoing then they’d have reason to shut the whole place down. Quaritch agrees to enter the cult to get back his son and find a way to shut them down.

Spider’s been there for months at this point and he’s completely healed. But when he tries to escape he’s caught and brought straight to Varang. Her voice is smooth like a cats purr. She seems so gentle and understanding. To the motherless boy it’s so inviting and part of him want to give into her. But theirs a cruelty in her eyes. A harshness in her smile that puts him off. He wants to try and run again but instinct tells him that’s a dangerous idea. He’d have to bide his time, be observant and wait for the perfect opportunity if he was going to get away.

But one day he’s sitting in his room trying and failing to read a book, daydreaming out the window. And then he spots a figure walking down the road. At first he can’t believe it but when he realizes what he’s seeing he’s insanely relieved to sees his dad walking up to the main house flanked by two higher ups. He almost can’t remember why he ran away as he races from the room. He’s scared of this weird creepy place and he wants to go home. “Dad,” he yells running up to him.

His dad wraps him up in fierce hug, sighing in relief. “There’s my boy.”

“This is your son,” one of the higher ups says, clearly unhappy and defensive.

“He sure is,” Quaritch says putting an arm around Spider’s shoulders, “of course I was terrified when I’d first learned where my boy had run off too. But as I learned more about your place here - it seemed like paradise. I want to start again. I want to serve Varang.”

Spider gives him a look that screams, “what the fuck kind of koolaid have you been sipping.” The higher ups are satisfied with this answer though. But this is such a strange situation for them that they take father and son right to Varang.

The woman stoically takes them both in as a subordinate whispers in her ear. There’s a sharp intelligence in her eyes as she mentally dissect them. “Well, now I can see where Spider got his good looks.”

Quaritch scoffs, “his name is Miles,” the boy’s shoulders slump, gaze going to the ground, “and he takes after my late wife not me.”

Varang clicks her tongue her eyes saying sure whatever . “It’s been a joy having Spider here with us. He was in quite the state when we found him…”

“State? What state?” Quaritch asks in a panic his attention going to his son. He grabs the boy’s shoulder trying to get him to look him in the eye. “Miles? What happened to you?” He mumbles a response making his father’s anger flare. “Don’t mumble, answer me like a man!”

“I just twisted my ankle!”

Quaritch automatically went into helicopter mode, “twisted your ankle! Which one! How were you treated! Are you completely healed?! I want x-rays! I want your medical record! I…

Varang clears her throat to get his attention. “Well I see why you ran away.”

Quaritch snarls, “he was just being rebellious.”

“Why don’t you let Spider speak for himself.” All eyes turn to him. Spider stays quiet. “Were you afraid of your father Spider?”

“What? No!”

“I’ve never laid a hand on my boy!”

Varang raises a skeptical eyebrow, “well how was I to know? People who feel loved, safe and supported typically don’t run away from home.” Quaritch growls. “I have a proposition. I don’t believe that you are here for the reasons you say and I do not believe that you are as decent of a father as you think you are. But I would love to be proven wrong. So, tonight, unburden yourself.”

“What?”

Spider’s blood runs cold. He’s heard people talking about the “unburdening”. You sit around a fire and tell everyone your deepest secrets. It sounds simple but he’s seen it at a distance and it looks freaky.

Varang explains a simple version of it to Quaritch. He agrees to go through it.

That night father and son are led out to a field. The fire is already burning bright. Drummers are playing a stirring beat. Varang and her closest followers are decked out in bright red but more notable Varang is wearing a terrifyingly impressive head dress while everyone else is in horrific masks. On instinct Quaritch pulls Spider into his side. Spider happily accepts the protection, feeling like he’s about to be a human sacrifice. “Sit on opposite sides of the fire,” Varang purrs. Quaritch is reluctant to let go of his son but he does. They stair into each other’s eyes through the flames. Varang throws some kind of powder into the fire sending up a purplish red smoke.

Quaritch wants to run to cover Spider’s mouth. The boy is asthmatic and this smoke could cause him to have an attack. But he stays put. He has a sneaking suspicion that some kind of drug is in this smoke. He takes short slow breaths. He doesn’t want to get so stoned that he lets slip all the reasons he’s there. “Breathe deep,” Varang says. Neither do. A whole ten minutes of pounding music go by, the others gathered dancing around them. Spider is so dizzy. Quaritch isn’t as bad but he’s feeling it. Finally Varang asks, “Spider, why did you run away?”

“Because of my dad,” Spider says his words slurring. Quaritch knew that deep down. He just made excuses for himself and blamed his son so he didn’t have to deal with the pain of rejection and failure.

“What did your father do?”

“He’s so fucking controlling! I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I can’t hang out with my friends, I can’t join clubs or go on school field trips unless he’s chaperone. He tracks my location. He won’t let me eat junk food. He has a schedule for every day of the week. It’s down to the fucking minute! I can’t even express myself! He won’t use the name I picked. I can’t wear the clothes I want or style my hair the way I want. He wants me to be a mini him! And I couldn’t take it anymore! I couldn’t….”

Spider starts crying. Quaritch’s heart is breaking for him. “I just wanted to do what I thought was best for you…”

“This is what’s best for me! I feel like you’re crushing me! You reject everything I want to be! Can you even love me if I’m not like you!”

“Of course I love you! Don’t you ever think that I don’t!” It has to be the drugs getting to him because now Quaritch thinks he might start crying. “Every day you were away from me all I wanted was to have you back. God, I laid awake all night stairing at disgusting motel room walls thinkin’ I’d give anything just to know that you were okay. I don’t care how you dress or if you go hang out with your friends. None of that matters to me anymore! I just want you to come home.”

Spider is sobbing now, “I want to go home too dad!”

“But you are home,” Varang says dangerously sweet, “right.”

Quaritch is having trouble thinking through the fog around his brain. Focus he wills himself. “Yes,” he slurs, “we’re home now. We’re going to start over.”

“Excellent.”

“No dad!” Spider shrieks, “I want to go home! Please! I can’t stay here!”

“It’s okay son. Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”

The ceremony ends. It’s eerily quiet without the drums. Everyone is still. “Help them to their new home,” Varang says.

They’re brought to a decently sized two bedroom apartment. The furniture looks like it was all made by hand. Everything is painted in warm dark browns and bright reds. It’s not super inviting but it has everything they need.

It takes a couple hours but they eventually sober up. The first thing Quaritch does is checks the place for cameras and microphones. Sure enough he finds them in every room but the bathroom. He takes Spider in there to talk.

“Let me get a good look at y’a,” Quaritch says gently. Despite their reunion earlier in the day Quaritch feels like he’s really seeing his son for the first time. He cups Spider’s face in both his hands. He’s not my little boy anymore. It’s a painful realization but he’s looking at a young man. He’s lost a little bit of weight without his father’s workout regime and hearty protein rich home cooking. He’s wearing ripped jeans and a band t-shirt. His hair has gotten really long. It’s pulled back in a ponytail but Quaritch takes it out combing the curly strands with his fingers. His son looks insanely uncomfortable probably thinking his dad was about to go for the scissors. Quaritch smiles softly at him, “it suits you.”

Spider brightens, “thanks dad.”

Quaritch’s hand move to the back of Spider’s head. He pulls him in close so their foreheads touch. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I love you so much Spider.”

Spider feels like he might cry again. “I know. I love you too dad.” They stay like that a moment before breaking away. “You don’t seriously want to stay here right?”

“Fuck no. But they’re not just gonna let us walk out the front door. This cult is dangerous. Even the cops won’t mess with them. So we need to be quiet and careful. We’ll play along. Get evidence of any laws they might be breaking. That way we have something to use against them when we escape because you know they’ll come after us when we do.” Spider nods determined for them both to get free.

They move to the living room where they cuddle up on the couch. Quaritch wants to see Spider’s recently twisted ankle so Spider lays it across his lap. He turns it this way and that determining that it actually was well taken care of. Then they just relax together, happy to be together again. It’s a nice moment of peace despite the danger surrounding them.

And I’m going to end it there! I know how I would end this but I always love hearing from people. You all have given me some great ideas before and made me think about things I never would have on my own so feel free to reach out. 💞

[cantfightmoonlight]

"You don't dislike Leyla or Rohan or Jas or Amrita or- I can continue if you want? But, finally, let's focus," She muttered under her breath. Her eyes darting away from him as she began to run through everything that she could think of that was worth considering when it came to planning a nice ceremony and reception that Rohan and Jonah could look back on for years to come.

"Okay," She held up her hands, not about to fight him on it. If he said he could stop anyone from interrupting, then she would be more than happy to give that job to him. "What about weather? With outdoor ceremonies, there is the chance of rain, though, I was thinking we could hire a siren to make sure the ceremony space stays rain free for the evening in case," She offered. Only for a small sigh to escape her lips once more as he told her he didn't say that. "Well, that's a rude expectation and-" Her breath caught in her throat. Her lips pressed together as she grew almost painstakingly quiet as he mentioned how Jonah left. She couldn't hide the visible hurt in her eyes even if she wanted to. "He left me too, you know, but thank you for reminding me," Her voice cracked ever so subtly as she spoke. Breath, Bri, She reminding herself, letting in one long inhale followed by a long exhale as she could feel her brown eyes beginning to water. Don't you dare cry.

"Rohan's not perfect either. You of all people know what happened when I first came to town. But, people change and they grow and they love each other. So," She let out a shaky breath as she moved to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles in her blouse.

Her brow twitched slightly as he stated that he had never been to a wedding or planned one and, yet, how hard could it be? It wasn't as if professional devoted their life to this or anything. Not that she was really all that surprise. "The confidence of a man, I swear," She muttered under her breath as he said that felt like it was enough.

"They do. Multiple options of them, which is why we must select them. When you book a back room for a private event, any private event, there is a level of coordination involved and that only increases when it has anything to do with the word 'wedding'. Nearly every establishment charges higher fees when they know it's for a wedding, because they can and because the Wedding Industry perpetuates an idea that you need all of these things in order to have the perfect day, so you really can't get around having even a small reception dinner without selecting a handful of options these days. It's just how it works," She tried to explain, only to press her lips together once more. She had never been good at hiding her facial expressions and as he spoke of how the restaurant would handle the dietary restrictions, her eyes widened the size of saucers. "Let me ask you something, when you were human did you have any dietary restrictions? Because, as someone who often couldn't eat because of restaurants preparing what I ordered in butter or adding milk when I specifically told them that I was vegan, you can't just assume the restaurants will handle it. How will they even know the dietary restrictions unless we tell them? And most private rooms have their own separate menus that are often far more limited. Oh my god," She exclaimed. "Can you stop with the judgements and the mainsplaining, please?" She asked, her voice cracking once more as she met his gaze with a pleading look. "And that's coming from me. I know how to plan a small wedding, Ken. So can you just trust that I might actually know what I'm talking about?"

"I know what simple means," She said softly. "But, while you and everyone else might be fine handing all of these details off, the thing is, every decision we don't make, gets put on someone else and maybe some waitstaff at the Farm Shop will take meticulous care into every detail, but-" Her gaze dropped once more as she told him forthright, "I'd rather know for certain that love and care have been put into every detail and I don't expect nor do I want to put that responsibility onto someone whose likely making under minimum wage and having to survive off tips. It's not fair for them to have to work overtime and it doesn't matter how much we're paying for them to do so. And... and if something goes wrong and we put all of the decision making onto the restaurant, then are we really going to blame ourselves for delegating during what should be the best day of Rohan and Johan's life or are we going to blame a restaurant that probably doesn't have the ban width to make us their sole priority?"

"I never said I was," She mumbled under her breath. "And I wasn't going to take it personally regardless. I'm glad to check flowers and cake off." She moved to pull out her own planner as she began to check off boxes from her own list. "I never said you did. But, you not wanting to get to know us only proves my point that you'd prefer it just be her, Rohan and yourself and are fine with everyone else being third wheels-" Only to stop short as he told her to stop. Another shaky breath broke from her lips as she reached up to brush the side of her thumb against her cheek only for her hand to feel noticeable damp from a stray tear or two she hadn't been able to blink back. "You think I don't want to?" She finally asked after, jaw tensing after a prolonged moment. Watching the little drops of water catch and stain the once crisp page of her planner, she told him, "You think I want to be like this? Do you know how frustrating it is to want to be someone's friend, but no matter how much you try, you know nothing you do will ever be enough? But, you can't stop wanting them to like you, no matter how much you try, and you can't stop yourself from taking every little thing into consideration, because your brain physically won't let you. I'd love to be able to walk into a room and not immediately think of every worse case scenario or stop wanting you and everyone else to like me, but I can't turn it off, so... so fine. We're good. I... I won't bother you anymore," She offered him as she closed her planner, tucking it away into her purse, she pulled out enough cash to cover her meal with a very substantial tip before she took what was left of her dignity and went home.

END.

He left that with an eye roll, not wanting or wishing to keep on this any longer that it needs to be, it had already wasted their time and given how she had pointed that she wanted to prioritise her time, Ken didn't understand why she picked at his words. But there one comment he couldn't hold back, "I dislike everyone, it's not aimed at you, but if you chose to take it as such, clearly nothing will come from me trying to say otherwise. As you so clearly put, time management…" he signalled to the papers as well and didn't comment further on that.

"There won't be any other people in the vicinity. And, before you say I can't know for sure or stop that from happening, or some such variation, yes I can and I will. It's a secluded area of the beach and I personally will make sure the ceremony isn't interrupted." A sigh fell through at her words, "I did not say that. I'm doing this because they are worried about other things and Rohan had mentioned he was frazzled, hence me stepping in.All I expect is for Jonah to show up and you to make sure he does. He did leave town once, I know you haven't forgotten. I don't want him to leave Rohan at the altar of all fucking places, he deserves better." The amount of times he felt like rolling his eyes needs a tracker of some sort, this conversation might make a new record. Growing weary already, he let her talk no need to comment on being a team player or project work when this situation was far from such a thing. He could work as a team if his job required it, but this wasn't his job, this was a favour he wanted to do for Rohan, something, he knew she hadn't realised. But at her question he gave her a shrug, "I haven't been to a wedding let alone plan one," he stated plainly, "But I know the concept of it and what it might entail. This felt enough." He didn't have friends to be invited to such things, perhaps there had been times when his family was invited and him and his siblings were forced to go, times he couldn't recall at the moment but as an adult? This was his first.

Taking up no further arguments with her, he pulled out a pen and began noting things down. Looking up only to blink at her when she non-stop listed things that they specifically didn't need to decide or focus on, "You don't think the restaurant would have napkins, plates, table cloths, or chairs? I know this town is a shit show but establishments here do have those things. The dinner will be at Farm Shop, dietary restrictions are taken into into account by the place itself. I get you've planned weddings before but this is small wedding, I'm doubting the fact you know what the word simple means." When she mentioned drones, he fully gave up on rectifying it and let her continue to list things off with a light shake of his head, knowing his role in this grew far smaller than he had initially known it to be. But it was fine, the important thing was this gets planned. "Yes, I've asked Amrita on the flowers. Don't need a discount when she has magic. And she agreed to do the cake as well," he said, "Before you take it personally about not asking you, you're a terrible cook. That's just a fact."

Giving the list a once over, he turned to her, "My energy is always like this, for everyone. You're not getting special treatment, nor do I hold a personal dislike towards you. It's indifference dished to all and that's it. You're the not first person that is bothered by my personality nor will you be the last. I don't have to explain myself, you can tell them as you wish, but given this," he tapped at the list, "It'll be clear that you've done a lot, and me not so much. Which I don't care as long as both of them have a day to remember. But what? What the hell does Dilan have to do with any of this? We're fine." He pinched the bridge of his nose as she spoke, not entirely in discomfort but the implication that had to open up, that he had to give people a chance because they wanted on didn't or ever did sat well with him. "I don't own you or anyone anything. Listen Bri, stop trying, plain and simple. Just because you're Leyla's friend does not mean you have to be mine. You'll be better off for it, trust me. I like my privacy and I like my silence. And you will like your life more without me in it." Most people did and this would be just another case to add to that. "Are we good or do you wish to question and argue with me some more? I'm tired from talking so much."

[sagesolsticewrites]

Drawl | Austin Butler x reader

Austin needs some help getting back to himself after Elvis. Luckily, his best friend is here to help him out!

Request from Anonymous: Hi! Love your writing. I was wondering if I could get an Austin story. He said he had an identity crisis after wrapping Elvis, and you can still hear Elvis when he talks even now. I was wondering if you could write something cute about a childhood friend helping him find himself again and in the process he realizes how much she loves him and that he loves her too.

a/n: so sorry I haven’t posted much y’all! I’m in college and my summer class started last week so I’ve been a little busy, but I promise I’m working on requests! Hopefully this and Reunion Part Two tomorrow will be enough to hold you over while I get more writing done!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: a couple swear words, inaccuracies about California, I think that's it? As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Hugest of shoutouts to @austin-butlers-gf for helping me with this 🤍

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

“A grande latte, and could I get that with oatmilk please?” Austin drawls as he places his order directly after you. It had been about a month since his return from the Elvis press run and you were out for your regular coffee-and-catch-up session. It was fun seeing your childhood friend become a superstar, but it was nice to have a little time to yourselves now that he was back home.

Your mouth twitches up in an attempt to hide your laugh as he places his order, and he raises an eyebrow as you make your way over to a table.

“What?” he asks with a smile.

“Nothin’, Mr. Presley,” you tease as you slide into your usual spot by the window.

He groans, sounding genuinely upset as he slides into the seat across from you, “It happened again, didn’t it?”

Your teasing smile slowly morphs into a concerned frown as you see his reaction.

“Hey, I was just teasing—“

He shakes his head, “No, I know it’s just… I pretty much lived and breathed as Elvis for over two years, and I was hoping to just get back to being Austin once it was over, but,” he sighs, running his hand over his face, “it’s not as easy as I thought it’d be.”

“Aus, you devoted so much of yourself to that role— and it shows in your performance, obviously, you were incredible— but you’re not gonna be able to snap back to being Austin just like that.”

You grin as a plan starts forming in your head.

“Uh oh,” Austin jokes, “that smile’s never a good sign.”

“I have an idea for how we can…” you search for the right words, “speed up the process of getting you back to being you.”

“Oh?” he asks with an intrigued smile, “And what would that be? It’s not gonna be like that plan you had to sneak a cat into your room because your mom wouldn’t let you have one, is it? Because if I remember correctly, that didn’t exactly end well.”

“Excuse me, that plan would’ve gone perfectly if I’d been able to keep Mittens quiet for longer than two minutes,” you say with a mock-offended gasp. “Besides, this is much better than that one.” You smile, “We’re gonna do all the things we did as kids. Disneyland, Knott’s Berry Farm, going to that one spot in the woods that you forced me to go to all the time so I could listen to you read the Pulp Fiction script out loud which, by the way, was an amazingly inappropriate script to read—“

“Oh come on,” he interrupts, “It might’ve been inappropriate but that script was crucial to molding my acting skills. And look at where it got me.” he teases with a self-satisfied smile.

“There he is,” you grin, “I knew Austin was still in there somewhere. The plan’s working already!”

“Alright, let’s see how this goes then,” he says with a laugh.

The two of you plan for a Disneyland trip the next Sunday, and spend the day in your finest Disney apparel. You wander around taking pictures with all of the characters you can, making a point to get pictures with Rapunzel and Stitch.

“Come on, I’m a little old for this, don’t you think?” Austin says with an eyebrow raise as you lead him over to where Stitch is supposed to be waiting.

You give a mock-offended gasp, “How dare you! You’re never too old for Disney, Aus!”

He raises his hands in surrender, “I’m just saying!”

“Besides,” you continue to drag him along, “this is about getting back to yourself. What’s more Austin than Stitch? I remember you had that movie playing constantly when we were kids.”

He laughs, allowing you to drag him around for pictures, and eventually it turns into Austin dragging you around to go on some rides.

You freeze as he pulls you towards Space Mountain. “Aus, what are you doing?”

He turns back, “C’mon, Y/N, you’re not still scared of rollercoasters, are you?”

“No, I just… don’t feel like going on a ride right now,” you say, not even convincing yourself.

“Y/N… we really don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he says, a concerned look on his face.

You shake yourself, “No, I’ll… I’ll be okay. I promise.” You give him a small smile.

“I’ll be right next to you the whole time, okay?” He smiles, squeezing your hand before pulling you along to get in line.

You decide that focusing on the far-too-fast ride is infinitely preferable to thinking about how your hand tingled when Austin squeezed it and how his concern for you made butterflies go haywire in your stomach, and how the toe-curlingly dizzy feeling you’re experiencing might not be from the ride, but from Austin holding your hand throughout it.

The next weekend you spent the day at Knott’s Berry Farm, running around all the rides you had gone on as kids— well, it was more Austin dragging you around to all the rides again. You still hated rollercoasters, but you knew this was what he needed so you pushed through, and the little hand squeeze he gave you as you got on, promising in a whisper that he’d be right next to you the whole time definitely didn’t hurt.

After Disneyland and Knott’s, you spent the next few days wandering around Anaheim reminiscing at all the places you had hung out together when you were kids. You tried to ignore the sparks you felt when your hands brushed as you walked beside him and the weird blushy feeling you got when you thought you caught him staring at you, and instead tried to pin all your focus on helping your friend. Who you definitely weren’t developing a crush on, nope, your feelings were totally platonic.

At least that’s what you told yourself until you got home that night and couldn’t stop thinking about him. After several hours of tossing and turning with his stupidly handsome face swirling around in your head, you decided to get up. You needed to do something besides lay there and think about his gorgeous blond waves, adorable freckles, charming smile, the adorable way he fidgeted with his hands or rings or the chain around his neck when he talked, or— you cut off that train of thought with a sigh. You stopped as you passed the mirror in your hall, staring into your reflection’s eyes. Maybe it was because it was 2am, maybe you were finally tired of denying it… whatever the reason, you looked at yourself in the mirror and accepted that over the course of the past couple weeks you had developed a giant crush on your best friend. No, not just a crush. You were completely and totally in love with him. Well, you thought with a sigh, this definitely won’t make things awkward.

Austin had decided that your “Austin Finds Himself” journey should come to an end by going to the clearing in the woods near his house where he had dragged you to help him prepare for auditions.

“This is where it all started,” he had explained “and it feels fitting that I should end this whole journey where I started it, with my best friend.” He had smiled, and it had taken all of your strength to keep your returning smile steady as your heart cracked a bit at the words “best friend”.

The two of you hike to the clearing, Austin laughing at your complaints the whole way there.

“My knees should not be making that sound!” you whine as you finally arrive in the clearing, making your way over to the bench where Austin had rehearsed for many an audition with you.

“We were like twelve the last time we came here, we’re old now!” he teases, plopping down next to you and drinking in his surroundings. You’re struck by how the sun hits him like a spotlight, his hair shining, blue eyes practically glowing, looking completely at home. After a moment of taking it all in, he turns to you with a sincere smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me with this,” he gestures vaguely to the air around him, “whole thing, I… I really needed this.”

You force a smile, “Of course, you’re my best friend, Aus. I’m always gonna help you, no matter what.”

You’re so wrapped up in stamping down your own feelings, you don’t see how his smile falters when you confirm your current just-friends status. Lucky for you, he decides to speak up.

“Y/N, the past couple weeks have been absolutely amazing, I really can’t thank you enough. I missed getting to spend time with you, and this was honestly exactly what I needed after the past few years,” he says with a shy smile. “And I have something I wanna tell you. I know that if I don’t do it now, I probably never will, and I can’t sit around here wondering ‘what if’, so…” he trails off, taking a deep breath.

He grasps your hand and looks into your eyes. Your breath catches at how sincere he looks. “Y/N, I… I really like you. Really, really like you. You’re smart, funny, so incredibly talented, and so, so kind. Most people would’ve just told me it’ll take time to find myself again, but you… you came up with a plan, actively tried to help me. That means so, so much to me. You’ve been by my side for longer than I can remember, and I don’t know how it took me this long to realize it, but… I love you. I have for a while now.” He worries his lip between his teeth, and without waiting for a response, says hurriedly, “And I absolutely understand if you don’t feel the same, and I’m so, so sorry if I just ruined everything—“

You crash your lips into his, cutting off his apology. He freezes, and you fear for a moment that it was too much before he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck before he pulls away just an inch, looking into your eyes as his forehead rests against yours.

“Y/N…” his hand comes up to caress your cheek, his other resting comfortably against your hip, “ I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything,” you say softly, leaning into his hand, “can we just stay like this?”

“Of course we can,” he smiles, “you look absolutely beautiful right now. I could stare at you forever.”

He leans in ,his lips just barely brushing yours before he pulls away again, whispering, “Do you realize that all of my problems went away from that kiss?”

“Hush it, I needed this too.” you say with a playful grin, moving to tuck your head into the crook of his neck. “Austin?”

“Yes bubs?” he replies, using the old nickname the two of you came up with back in elementary school.

No turning back now. “Fuck it,” you mumble before finally looking up at him and saying “I’m in love with you, and I know that it’s such a cliché to say ‘I love you’s’ at the beginning of something new but damn it, I’m so in love with you Austin and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

In lieu of a response, he pulls you in for another kiss, smiling against your lips.

The two of you spend most of the day there, and Austin walks you home afterward, the two of you hand-in-hand as you stroll through Anaheim.

“So, does this count as our first date?” you ask with a playful grin as you arrive at your apartment.

“I guess it does,” he says with a smile. “But I’d really like to take you out properly sometime, if that’s alright,” he says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“I'd really like that,” you say, “we could go to that Italian place down the street?”

“That sounds good. Are you busy on Saturday?”

He grins as you shake your head, lifting your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, “It’s a date.”

You lean in to press one last kiss to his lips before you enter your apartment, giving him a small wave. “It’s a date.” you beam before closing the door, the happiness of the day crashing over you like a wave as you make your way to bed.

Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @anangelwhodidntfall @yourselenite @austin-butlers-gf @luke-my-skywalker @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @butlersluvbot @justjacesstuff @yourselenite @beauvibaby @sweetheartlizzie07

[thefuckisaid]

Illumination just hit me, and the next idea came to life.

Alerudy but Rodolfo is the love child of the former leader of Las Almas Cartel.

Like, his mom got pregnant being really young and she feel in love with this man who seemed to be sweet and caring but the environment made him enroll in the narcotráfico, first as a sicario and then as the leader who helped expand the enterprise.

Then his dad would leave his mom, cause he doesn't want her to be in the line of fire, she told him that she was pregnant in a poor attempt to make him stay by her side but it didn't work.

His mother suffers, but she has this little baby as a reminder of her love, and she's willing to devote to him (Yes, to me Rodolfo is a Mama's boy) so he mostly was raised by his maternal grandparents due to his mamá working.

Little Rodolfo would ask about his dad, but she will tell him that he was a soldier that went off to fight the god fight. His grandpa would teach him to hunt, take care of farm animals and survive in the desert, his grandma would teach him to cook, sew and find the best ways to save money while doing el mandado.

El cartel would grow as Rodolfo does, maybe his father is looking from afar as Rodolfo goes from kindergarden to elementary school. Occasionally sending money with his closest man.

His mother would work in la maquila and doing small jobs here and there, probably, making barely enough to sustain his little family.

So Rodolfo grows up with this idea of maximum effort in order to help his family.

He is the kind of person to put himself second in everything if it means something to the greater good.

So, he would be really absent in junior high and high school, working for his padrino's mechanic shop (i took this from a 2010 Mexican movie, if u guess which one I'll give u a kiss) he starts running errands but then he gets to the mechanical part.

One day, a man comes with his particular car, by his side are a couple of boys that present themselves as Mario and Alejandro Vargas, sons of El Capitan Vargas, who's in charge on the newly dispatched regiment. The men that are supposed to put las Almas back in the right direction.

Mario is a bit older so he just wants to go back to the capital (probably left s girlfriend there) but Alejandro is excited, almost vibrating, extremely happy to be back in town.

Later, Rodolfo would learn that the Vargas family is from Las Almas, but given the promotion of El Capitan, they had to move.

Alejandro comes everytime his father does, so Rodolfo and him get to hang out a lot outside school. It's Alejandro who gives Rudy all the homework and notes on the classes to keep him in course. For Rudy, that's the first time Alejandro saved him.

Even el Capitán grows fond of young Rodolfo Parra, he seems like a good influence to his rebellious second son. So, every so often he invites Rodolfo's Family over for Asadas.

They talk and talk and so Rodolfo and Alejandro get to hear how las Almas was such a quiet place, where the only gunfire was aimed at deers and armadillos, where the people lived in peace.

They made it out of high school and by that time Rodolfo Parra knows that he would do anything for Alejandro Vargas.

Mario is set to go up north and study law, so Alejandro takes as his personal goal to follow his father's steps and join the army.

Rodolfo isn't really sure, he's seen the tiredness and the burden in El Capitan Vargas eyes, he's not sure he wants that for himself, nor Alejandro.

That is until a confrontation between the army and the cartel takes place, it's their high school graduation and Rodolfo's mother and Alejandro's father doesn't make it.

The official version tells that the attack was aimed at the Capitan. And Rodolfo understands that the kind of monsters that live in las almas doesn't have a soul, they take and take and destroy people's lives.

Little he knows that in a hidden place in the mountain trails a man is burying some of his own men in a narco fosa due to the death of Mrs Parra.

Alejandro is destroyed, but his mind is set to join the army, Rodolfo follows him.

Mario tries to convince them otherwise, but it's futile.

Rodolfo's grandma gives him her blessings, his grandpa tells him to stay safe and remember who he is.

As a newly recruited soldier, Rodolfo and Alejandro were sent to other places to train and study. They get to see just how big the cartel is.

They eventually come back in a holiday leave, Las Almas looks even worse than how they left it as a result of being the headquarters for the cartel Chief.

This mysterious man that keeps his identity hidden.

It's día de muertos and Rudy and Alejandro go to the cemetery, Rodolfo brings carnations for his mother, along candies and tamales his grandma just made. Alejandro has a bottle of tequila and his dad's favorite tacos. They spend some more time until it's time to go back.

It's when they're leaving that Rodolfo sees him, a man as tall as him, that approaches his mother's resting place with a candle in one hand and a flower in the other. The stranger goes down to his knees and kisses the flower before putting it down. He crosses himself, says a prayer and leaves.

Rodolfo saw the figure of a gun under that man's shirt. And that night he doesn't sleeps.

Alejandro tries to offer some answers, but none is satisfactory enough, so Rodolfo talks to his grandparents the morning before he goes back to the army.

They know only what their daughter told them, which, contrary to Rodolfo's beliefs it's almost nothing.

The second time he's back in las almas he and Alejandro are there to move their families out. Las almas is no mans land and they're not going to risk it.

They get to a check point at the entrance of the town, and Rodolfo recognizes the side profile of the guy in the cemetery, he looks familiar but Rodolfo can't remember seeing him in town. The man looks at Rodolfo and makes a signal to make their car stop.

Alejandro tenses up, if the narcos discover that they're soldiers, they're dead.

A small interrogation takes place under las Almas burning sun, Rodolfo can see Alejandro's fingers twitching. His best friend is itching to do something, he's sure they'll end up in a sewer.

But the man asks Rodolfo some more things really out of place and then lets them go. Rodolfo wants to ask him if they know each other, but he leaves while he's still breathing.

Vargas and Parra are moved back to Las Almas Cuartel years later, gunfires and attacks became the usual and the duo starts collecting scars and tales.

Every Sunday Rodolfo goes to his mother's grave and every Sunday the same man is leaving. He gathers up the courage to ask and the old man says that he's an old friend, tells him to stay out of trouble. Tells him to leave Las Almas while he can.

Alejandro takes the matter in his hands and demands answers from the older one. The man tells him that he looks smarter than his dad and Alejandro steps back. It's not weird that they know who he is, but the man's tone was unsettling

Going from a common soldier, to special forces and being promoted looked like the right direction.

The Colonel and Sargeant Major.

It looked right until the murder attempts started. Always directed to Alejandro, always meant to take him down in operations and missions in wich -contrary to Rodolfo's pretty please- Alejandro insisted to go.

They created Los Vaqueros, a force meant to equilibrate the fight.

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

This shit is taking me longer than expected

It's kind of late so I'll maybe end this some time later.

[pollylynn]

Title: Unforeseen WC: 800

“It was strictly professional curiosity.”  —Kate Beckett, Little Girl Lost (1 x 09)

Richard Castle is full of surprises, almost all of them unpleasant. Today’s surprise seems to be that he is either (a) not jealous or (b) running some kind of long, highly complex con. Both parsimony and what she knows of his attention span make explanation a infinitely more likely. He’s not jealous. It’s a rare surprise that she certainly ought to file under both unexpected and pleasant, but she’s having a hard time with that. An . . .  inexplicably hard time. 

At least she has company in her surprise, if not in her ambivalence about it. She’d very much like to kick the Captain’s shins for summon Castle to the Candela’s apartment as some kind of chaos player. She’d still be seething at the idea of him trying to stir whatever pot he’s trying to stir if the sight of him utterly flummoxed by Castle’s near-complete failure to act up, thrown down with Will, or exhibit any kind of jealousy at all were not so satisfying. Yes, the Captain is at least as surprised by this turn of events as she is. It’s some comfort. Not a lot, but some. 

The boys are low-key surprised, too. Their focus is on the case—everyone’s focus is on the case—but she sees Ryan blink hard when he invites the suddenly compliant Castle to watch Doug Ellers’ interrogation from the bleachers. She sees the slight, perplexed shake of Esposito’s head as they all watch him actually do as he’s told and go home. 

There’s only so much energy she can devote to everyone else’s surprise before she has to take a good, hard look at her own, though. Which isn’t to say that her eyes don’t linger on the phone as she considers the wisdom of calling Lanie to farm out a little more of her own. Lanie would definitely give good surprise at the news that a decidedly not-jealous Richard Castle had suddenly developed boundaries and consideration for others and—dare she say it?—a sense of professionalism. 

It’s a topsy turvy world when such a word finds itself anywhere in the neighborhood of his name, but what other explanation is there for that fact that he catches Will kissing her—and her kissing Will, she supposes—and he positively glides by the moment with a tension-diffusing remark that barely qualifies as a barb? What other explanation is there for the fact that she’s the one who brings the kiss up a second time and he’s the one who gives her an out? 

It’s a topsy turvy world in which Richard Castle is only interested in Kate Beckett professionally. 

She thinks about the way the day started, how she pretended not to notice that he not only knew her coffee order, but he’d gone blocks and blocks out of his way for the bear claws she likes. She spares a twinge of regret that she’d taken the bait and shoved said bear claw into his transparently provocative mouth. But mostly she ruminates on the second of her grand gestures—haughtily shoving that heavenly-smelling latte back into the cardboard holder as she told him just how very much she was looking forward to the end of their partnership.

And there’s the second Richard Castle–induced surprise of the day. She looks at the scatter of statements on her desk. They’re peppered with post-it notes, and the desperation of her handwriting forms a timeline. She lifts her head and her eyes track back and forth as she watches Will pacing, barking orders into the phone. She feels the weight of everything—the case, absolutely, but just her job, too. She feels the crushing weight of the day-to-day, of her past, with Will and without him, and the conversation she knows is coming. She braces her hands on the desk like the darkness of it all might pull her in and she understands that she is not looking forward to the end of anything Richard Castle–related. 

She doesn’t know where to file that surprise, either. Under sobering, maybe. Under embarrassing, probably. Under heartbreaking? That’s hyperbole, surely. 

But he is tenacious and maddeningly insightful. His asinine jokes and thoughtful gestures break up the day. They parcel out what’s hard and terrible about this work into chunks that feel . . . survivable. And it’s sad to say that “survivable” is an upgrade from where she was when Will left, when she met Will, before there was a Will at all.

She’s come to count on the fact that he has a crush—that he is infatuated with her.  She’s come to assume that at some point, she’d have to have him more or less surgically removed. But that’s not the case. He’s not jealous.

He does have crush. He is infatuated. But it’s strictly professional. 

It’s an unpleasant surprise.  

A/N: Huh. This is weird. Brain Poneh seems convinced, this time around, that the Season 1 wacky misunderstandings are genuine and cut deep. Weird. Because Castle is obviously PATHOLOGICALLY jealous, and his sudden good behavior is him at Defcon 1

image via homeofthenutty

[urfictional]

wedding anniversary

I woke up this morning and chose violence.

weird way how to start this but it is what it is. so, I decided to improve my writing (cuz it desperately needs an upgrade) by writing small drabbles. this is actually the first one and I have absolutely no idea why I decided to do this to myself (and you too)

also, forgive me if it isn't perfect, just like I said I'm trying to improve my writing

this is a levi x gn!reader drabble and if there is one thing I can say about it it's pain (you'll see why) I listened to harry stile's fine line while writing this and let me tell you, it just got worse

This day needs to be perfect.

That was the only thought running through Levi's mind the entire day as he worked on the preparations. It was your fifth wedding anniversary, and it had to be just as magical as the day you pledged your hearts to each other for eternity. Levi was well aware that his lover disliked when it was 'too much.' Even your wedding was small and simple, with only your closest friends and family in attendance. You were both unfit for a life of wealth. It was never your intention to make everything grand. The soldier life you both were living didn’t allow much luxury in your lives anyway.

Therefore, Levi didn’t aim for fancy food or expensive dinner places. He was well aware that you preferred simple things. He located the place which held significant meaning to both of you. The place where he asked you to marry him. As it was yesterday, Levi remembered his anxiousness and shaky hands, something that 'humanities strongest' had no idea he was capable of experiencing. He remembered how the three words slipped past his lips, causing your eyes to widen and joyous tears to well up in your eyes. He recalled how you couldn't say anything. Even the simple word yes. But Levi already saw in your eyes what you meant to say. He could always tell what you intended to say just by looking into your eyes before you were able to utter a word.

It was a wonderful place. Green fields in whichever direction you looked, with a giant oak tree in the center. It was far away from the city's constant bustle, just like you liked it. The sole sign of civilization was a farm a little distance away. Close enough to not feel abandoned, but far enough to ensure that no one will disturb your solitude.

Levi spread a blanket on the ground before placing the refreshments he had provided. He knew this blanket was your favorite. You stated it reminded you of home and made you feel better when you were down. When it came time to wash it, it was always difficult to convince you to let it go. Levi had to employ all of his strength and wit in order for you to release it. During those moments, when the blanket was being washed, he was always there to be by your side. He always was there to fulfill the soft materials job to be your security blanket. And that made you love him even more.

After placing the food, he pulled out the little pouch where one usually poured water. In Levi’s case, it was always full of tea. The man's devotion to his tea was something that always amused you. It wasn't particularly hot, but it didn't bother him. After all, you've never been a fan of hot tea. It burned your tongue upon the first sip thus ruining the whole drink for you.

Levi reclined against the tree trunk; his hair ruffled by a gentle breeze. He cocked his head to the side to look at your smile. God, how he loved your smile. The faint laugh wrinkles at the outer corner of your eyes, the small dimples in your cheeks. A smile crept at the edges of his mouth, but it vanished quickly. It was like the wind; one minute it was there, the next it was gone as if it never existed. Levi realized the smile before him wasn't the one he was yearning for. It never was.

Because pictures capture only so little.

They can't capture the sound of your melodic laugh, which sounded like bird melodies early in the morning. They can't capture the motions you make with your hands when you are excited about something. The way your eyes widen, and your mouth opens slightly when something shocks you. But Levi can remember it. And it will remain burned in his memory forever.

As he stared at the framed picture beside him of you two on your wedding day, Levi remembered the day when he became the luckiest man in the whole world. He recalled the salty flavor in the air as you both stood by the sea, promising unconditional love to one other. He remembers the sun shining behind you, lighting your face and making you look like an angel. Your soft hands and his linked together.

It was your first wedding anniversary without you. And with a heavy heart, Levi had to make peace with the fact that it won’t be the only one. That from now on it will be just him and your framed wedding photo. But that doesn't mean he won't try his hardest to make this day perfect. Even though the food will be left untouched and when the day will come to an end, he’ll return to your shared home that still holds that empty feeling as if it’s missing something. Your shared bedroom which still holds your scent, albeit so faint it causes Levi to think it’s his mind playing tricks on him. He will fall asleep on your side of the bed, covered with your blanket which always consoled you and now brings him the comfort he so desperately yearns for. Clutching your wedding photo close to his heart until he falls into the soft hands of his dreams where you’re still alive. Holding him, and not letting him go until the morning comes, and with it, the reality without you.

But some part of him knows that you’re there, sitting beside him on the blanket, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He just can’t see you or hear you. And God did he wanted to see you. To hear your sweet voice whispering in his ear. To feel your warm breath on his neck that always sent shivers down his back.

Levi fingered his wedding band on his finger remembering your soft hands as they placed the ring on his finger, claiming him as yours. His hand then went to his neck to pull out the chain in which hung your wedding band. And he remembered how his hands placed the wedding ring on your finger, claiming you as his.

Your laugh.

Your smile.

Your eyes.

Your touch.

Your everything.

He reached out and gently stroked the frame of the picture.

“Happy wedding anniversary, my love.”

a/n: honestly, what was I even thinking

[yandereocs]

Strawberry Boy is so cute! Wait...so he like a devotion type of yandere then? How would he react to Y/N giving him a kiss? But like a kiss on the cheek. They might say, "You can get more kisses if you be a good boy for me, okay?"

* Strawberry Boy is indeed a devotion type of yandere!! He worships everything his darling does for just the smallest amount of praise. So this boy is going to LOSE IT if his darling gives him a kiss

Yandere Strawberry Boy when his darling gives him a kiss

* At first he wouldn't register the kiss at all. He'd just be standing there with a blank look on his face for a few seconds before his face flushes red.

* He'd immediately start babbling nonsense, talking about how thankful he is that you kissed trash like him. He would also say that he doesn't deserve such affection, but he feels happy that you love him.

* When he hears what his darling says, his face just gets even redder. He loves being given orders and he especially loves the idea of being a good boy. He'll start babbling again, talking about how he'll be a very good boy.

* Strawberry's devotion just increases by ten fold. He already does everything for his darling, but now it's just even worse. At least before he would allow you to do minor things by yourself, but now he won't allow that. He'll fetch you anything that you so desire and he'll tell you to just stay in bed and relax.

* He'll bring you snacks, he'll bring you food and water whenever you ask, he'll give you baths and he'll tuck you in. He already did this before, but he used to allow you to occasionally bathe yourself or grab your own snacks, but not anymore.

* He tries his best to not neglect you anymore. He would often forget to take care of you because he was busy running his store and farm, but now he tries extra hard to not forget about you. He'll apologize a lot, though. He doesn't want you thinking that he's only now trying to take care of you because you gave him a kiss. But even with his efforts, he still does sometimes forget about you.

* He'll constantly be asking you if he's been a good boy. Every day he's always asking "Have I been a good boy? Have I earned more kisses?". He asks after what feels like every task.

* If he ever does earn another kiss, he goes crazy. He'll start begging for more kisses and he'll start listing new things that he'll do for you. He'll be your footstool, he'll be your punching bag, he'll be your pet if you want!! You can honestly reverse the roles where he's the captive and you're the captor.

* Just as long as you keep giving him kisses, that is.

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.

[liusaidh-writing]

Call It True - Chapter 5

Here you all go! I am sorry, this is a bit shorter than normal, I've just done a poor job of splitting it all up. Chapter 6 will be longer, and things will actually happen, I promise! Anyway, enjoy this short baby chapter full of nothing much until I can get Chapter 6 up!

Also, apparently we’ve done away with the read-more cuts? Great...great idea...yeaaah.

Again, thanks to @faithperry46 for being a fantastic beta!

-----------

>> Prefer AO3?

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

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Claire slumped in her chair, holding her chin in her hand as Harry slammed the toy cannon down on his high chair. It was a brilliant idea, Claire though glumly, to give children weapons at the dinner table. She’d already been pinged twice by the small foam ball that shot out of one end. Thankfully, it had rolled off the table, lost to the sea of chairs and tables around them, after the second shot bounced off Claire’s forehead. Harry had screamed briefly, before deciding that it was even more fun to make an entire restaurant wince as they watched him slam the cannon down, complete with sound effects bursting from his mouth: “Bang! Boom!” “Claire, do try to enjoy yourself!” Lesley begged, patting Claire’s hand from across the table as they watched a grown man in a pirate costume dance around, complete with a fake peg leg. At the behest of Lesley, Claire had ventured out of her flat after a day spent in bed, wallowing, attempting to ring Jamie with no luck. She ignored Lesley’s calls for as long as possible, until Harry popped up on Facetime, begging ‘Auntie Cwaire’ to come with them to eat. 

Now, Claire sat in front of a mountain of shellfish she was expected to consume, yet she wasn’t hungry at all. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just...I’m just not feeling all that well.” She hadn’t told Lesley about Jamie. She found that she was a bit embarrassed by it all, like she’d done something wrong. Yet, she also didn’t want Lelsey to say anything negative about Jamie. Not yet, anyway. Claire wasn’t yet angry enough to want to badmouth him to anyone. So, she kept quiet while nibbling on something from her plate. “Harry, do you want Auntie Claire to take you to the playground?” “Yes!” the little boy exclaimed. He’d been eyeing the restaurant’s play area since they’d arrived, though Claire had not been prepared to be offered up as a sacrificial lamb. “I’d...really rather not, Lesley. Look at it, it’s a madhouse! Kids all over the place…” Claire groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, come on. Up you get. It would make him so happy!” “He’d be a great deal happier if it was his own mother over there with him,” Claire snapped, irritated by Lesley’s insistence. Lesley’s eyes flew wide, her brow down in confusion. “What’s gotten into you?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” Claire responded, choosing to avoid Lesley’s eyes by peeking at her phone. She wasn’t expecting anything, and she wasn’t wrong. Her phone’s clock told her it was getting close to Harry’s bedtime, and she hoped this dinner would end soon. “Oh! How did your date with your Jamie fella go last night? Can’t believe I forgot to ask!” Claire rubbed her face with one hand, steeling herself for a conversation she wasn’t ready to have. “It was...okay. We went to the park, had a few drinks over dinner.” Claire shrugged, unwilling to go any further with the details. “Did he kiss ya?” “Oh please stop.” “Why? What in the world happened? You’ve been acting strange all night. Did you not enjoy yourself, then?” “I did,” Claire said slowly, “but, from what I understand, he didn’t.” “What makes you say that?” Lesley asked, shocked at Claire’s attitude. “You’re a fun girl, I’m sure that wasn’t what happened.” “Well….he left abruptly, leaving a small note, and I haven’t heard from him all day, so…” “Didn’t even say goodbye?” “I was...asleep.” Claire bit her tongue, careful of what she divulged with Harry sitting right there. “Ooooh, I see.” Lesley nodded with understanding, glancing at Harry who was still staring at the ball pit and slide. Claire watched as Lesley’s mind searched for something to say in response. She only came up with, “Would you like some ice cream?” 

Claire laughed in spite of herself, covering her mouth as unexpected tears filled her eyes. “Well, as long as it’ll get me out of...that.” She pointed at the play area. 

“Come on, Harry, up for an ice cream?”  Lesley pulled Harry out of his chair, and thankfully, they all exited the restaurant, Claire sighing with relief. 

---------

Next day, Claire hoped to wake to a missed call, or message from Jamie, but her phone was again silent. She decided to devote her day to chores around her flat, finally cleaning up the drink glasses the two of them had left two nights previous. 

She washed her bedsheets, mopped the kitchen floor, and vacuumed the carpets twice over. She threw out the rest of the whisky, pouring it down the drain with a satisfying gurgle. Throwing the glass bottle in the recycling bin, she spotted Jamie note on the counter, right where she’d dropped it.  Staring at it for a minute, she resolved to get rid of that, too. Erasing that night completely seemed like a good idea. Tearing it up into little pieces, she threw it in the rubbish bin, watching it stick to the plastic liner. She felt some relief, but knew Jamie would never leave her mind, no matter what physical actions she took. 

She’d found his white undershirt earlier, shoved underneath her duvet as she’d made her bed. She’d taken it out and tossed it across a chair in her bedroom, and she knew she couldn’t destroy that.  She pondered putting it in her closet, but couldn’t bring herself to hide it out of sight. If she hid it, she reasoned, she’d forget to return it when she saw him again. 

If. If she saw him. 

Now, she was sitting in a spotless flat, with nothing else to do but kill time until bed. She flipped channels on the television, unable to find anything that held her interest longer than five minutes. She flipped through a few magazines, landing on that room painting article Jamie had commented on days before. She smiled, wondering what color he’d choose to paint his flat if he could. 

Green, she decided - he looked like a forest green type of person - bring the outside in. She wouldn’t mind that, herself, she thought. Glancing around, her eyes drifted to the ceiling, where she’d usually hear Jamie’s footfalls. It had been silent though, since that night, when they’d both heard his nephew scurrying around doing whatever. 

Her eyes fell back to the rug, and she slumped over, arms on her knees as she thought. “I just want to know what I did,” she said to herself. She had run the night over in her head a million times, unable to come up with anything. She’d been herself, and if Jamie had a problem with that, then, well - good riddance? She wondered briefly if perhaps it wasn’t her that made him leave. She’d apparently slept so hard, maybe he’d gotten a phone call, perhaps his nephew had called him back to his own flat for whatever reason. Had his sister called him to the family farm? She threw her hands up in defeat, unable to come to an answer that was satisfactory. 

Picking up her mobile, she ordered food in and laid on the couch, determined not to think about Jamie for the rest of the night. She’d be at work tomorrow, and her mind would be occupied with all kinds of things. The idea of it soothed her, and she suddenly could wait to be back at the hospital. 

[bitterfrosts]

And I did promise in the lanlan server that I would write Song Lan/Lan Xichen getting stuck in the supply closet shenanigans and honestly they deserve to have some awkward flirty closet time. It’s the same Vet/Animal Sanctuary AU that @goldencorecrunches wrote earlier. Anyways~

It’s a slower day than most. For the first time this month, Song Lan isn’t being called away from the clinic to go do checkups on neighboring farm horses or being dragged out to help with exotic animal reclamations. (No, Song Lan is NOT sure what the 19 year old was doing with a Komodo dragon. Nor is he sure where he got the money to pay the black market dealer he bought it from. He spent two weeks over video conference calls with the nearest rehabilitation center equipped to take it, which was a chore and a half as the internet connection in their remote clinic isn’t the fastest even during the best of times.) 

He devotes the day to trying to catch up on paperwork that his team haven't touched yet. Most of it is boring busy work, like updating client information and medical records, but it’s just what the doctor ordered, as far as Song Lan is concerned. He looks forward to sitting in his office in the big wheelie chair in front of the ancient block of wood he calls a desk, feeling the cracked leather of the old seat rub off onto his clothes and clacking away at the keys of the computer he still needs to run system updates on. There’s just the right amount of sunlight streaming in through the horizontal blinds over his window to let the radiant warmth of it kiss the skin of his hands. He exhales a sigh of relief as he scoots in closer to his desk and opens the program client to begin the work. 

Song Lan spends an hour giving each of a local breeder’s newest batch of puppies their own health profiles and smiles. He does love working with the younger animals. This particular group of little scamps have the most adorable habit of trying to play-bite his knuckles when it’s time for vaccines. They’re still too small for it to hurt in any significant way. He’s half tempted to use his meager salary to buy the one he’s grown most fond of once she’s old enough for it. Song Lan lifts his head up from his work and notices one of his newest interns, Wen Ning, standing outside the door of his office nervously. The young man looks a little scared to knock on the door, which is nothing new for him. Song Lan always does his best to accommodate him the best he can and puts him in charge of taking care of the animals in the day-care drop off center instead of talking to other people. He thrives there. Song Lan waves him in.  

“Can I help you?” he signs, trying his best to soften his usually stern expression for him. 

“Ah... yes!” Wen Ning stutters quietly. “Ac-actually, the printer in reception needs more- more toner. None of us can get it off the high shelf.”

Song Lan sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. He’s still not sure who’s brilliant idea it was to put something they go through a lot of frequently up so high in the supply closet that no one in the clinic but him can reach it. He has plans to bring that up in the next staff meeting. In the meantime, Wen Ning is standing in the doorway of his office, hands held together and twisting nervously. 

“I’ll grab you some,” he signs, getting up from his office chair with a small grunt of effort from sitting still for far too long and gently brushing past the shy young man and walking down the hall to where the closet holding all their spare office supplies is located. 

He coughs a bit when he opens the door and inhales a small amount of disturbed dust. He squints and raises a hand above his head to search for the pull-chain to turn on the lone lightbulb in the closet. He finds it and pulls on it, the clicking of the chain turning on the dim yellow light of the bulb while he gives a cursory look to the row of top shelves just barely brushing the ceiling. 

“Ah! Zichen!” rings a voice from behind him. Song Lan freezes at the recognition of it, then turns around slowly. Director Lan walks a couple feet into the closet as well, grinning and wearing the green plaid flannel Song Lan gave him the last time they spoke. 

“The front desk is out of pens,” he explains, limply waving an arm at the light brown boxes of them on the opposite wall. “Frankly, I’m not sure where they all go.”

“Into the pockets of the owners of our patients,” Song Lan signs, trying to surreptitiously gulp away any lingering nerves. 

Then, because of course it does, the door of the closet closes shut behind them, the lock clicking into place, echoing into the still silence of the small space. 

“Oh,” Lan Xichen sighs. “Oh dear.”

The closet only locks from the outside, of course. Song Lan bites his lower lip and begins to roll up the sleeves of his dark gray button down, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot and stuffy for reasons he is not comfortable elaborating. Lan Xichen rummages through the pockets of his jeans and clicks his tongue in disappointment

“My phone is dead,” he announces. “I don’t suppose you have yours.”

How do they always end up like this? Song Lan wonders, his eyes trailing anywhere they can other than to the director’s shaking head. 

“I left it on the desk in my office,” he signs back.

It won’t be long until someone finds them, of course. However, it does nothing to ease the tension building up in Song Lan’s chest. There is one benefit to being glued to one’s phone, he admits. In the meantime, it’s all he can do to ignore the way Lan Xichen leans into him, reaching behind him and standing up to take boxes of toner from the top shelf and brushing past Song Lan to move them to a more easily accessible, lower shelf. Song Lan’s ears heat up the smallest bit and he catches a whiff of Lan Xichen’s cologne as he moves back. Its nothing for the director to reach the top shelf too. He and Lan Xichen are roughly the same height, Song Lan being only a hairsbreadth taller, if that. It makes it more difficult to avoid Lan Xichen’s gaze. He has no choice but to make eye contact with his strikingly handsome colleague, when with most others he can comfortably look over their heads. 

“Might as well make our time stuck here productive, I suppose,” he says. “Why do we even keep the toner that high up?”

Song Lan shrugs and takes a few shaky inhales to steady himself. It’s nothing. This is nothing... except the universe playing some kind of elaborate prank on him. Wait until he tells Xingchen about THIS. They’ll never let him live it down. His ex always did love to poke fun at him this way. They’re very lucky the two of them are still on such good terms.

Lan Xichen leans in again to grab the last of the toner boxes and gets so close Song Lan can smell the lingering scent of peppermint tea on Lan Xichen’s breath. If his heart beat any faster he’s certain Director Lan would be able to hear it himself, and the rush of it continues to thud in Song Lan’s ears. It is in this compromising position that Song Lan’s tech Wen Qing finds them in when she unlocks the supply closet door. 

“My apologies,” she stresses, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

“Thank goodness!” Lan Xichen exclaims, thankfully backing up from Song Lan. “We may have been trapped in there forever.”

“For certain,” she sniggers. 

“That reminds me,” Lan Xichen says, turning back. “Why were you in the closet, Song Lan?”

Song Lan plucks the box of toner from Lan Xichen’s grip and moves out of the closet as quickly as he can, knocking Wen Qing aside as he does so. Speedwalking back to his office, he thrusts the toner into Wen Ning’s waiting arms and gently pushes him out of the room, shutting the door behind him and sighing. 

Very mature, Doctor Song, he chides to himself. Very Mature. 

_____________________________

Down the hall in his own office, Lan Wangji peeks out of his door window and blinks. Wei Ying’s idea to shut the closet door behind them seemed like a success on the surface, but if he knows Dr. Song’s temperament (and he does) it’ll have amounted to nothing. He tells Wei Ying so over the phone. 

“So then we move on to Plan C!” his husband sing-songs through the receiver.

Lan Wangji thinks if Wei Ying put as much effort into his Doctoral Thesis as he did with trying to set up his brother-in-law, he would have graduated by now, but Lan Wangji says nothing. Wei Ying’s too-big heart is one of the things he loves most about him. 

“Do not break more of Dr. Song’s things,” he scolds into the phone. 

“He fixed his car eventually,” Wei Ying whines. Lan Wangji can feel the ensuing eyeroll through the phone. “Besides, it kind of worked!”

“No,” he scolds again. 

Perhaps he should be the one to figure out a Plan C this time.  

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. This is part 7. You've experienced joy and massive heartbreak in the span of a week. First your mother and then your father.

Poe has already returned to D'qar, leaving you alone to face unimaginable tragedy.

You're all by yourself with your own ugly, terrifying thoughts.

As you try to pick up the pieces of your life thoughts drift to your relationship with Poe, and the urgent feeling to start a family that both of you have.

But can you survive the events of that week?

Do you want to?

Warnings, angst, grieving, thoughts of self harm, suicide, if this might be triggering to you please don't read, this chapter is dark, not for anyone under 18.

Your father had simply lost the will to live after losing his wife of nearly 40 years and passed away in his sleep of a broken heart.

His body and mind were quite simply tired. What did he have to live for with his soul mate gone?

The last year of your mother's life was difficult as she faced the end stages of her terminal illness. Your father provided her around the clock care. Bathing her, feeding her, basically doing everything.

You hated yourself for not being able to help and placing the burden all on him.

She was lucky to have someone so devoted to her.

Like you and Poe, your parents were two halves of the same soul.

The last week of his life was nothing but unbearable sadness and grief but at least he lived long enough to see you and your soulmate get back together.

The excitement and giddiness of your reunion has been dealt a serious blow, though. Any joy that was in your heart has quickly been extinguished.

You might be carrying a grandchild that will never know the joy of being doted on by grandma and grandpa, there will be noone to walk you down the aisle if you do get married.

You have lost everyone in your family, you are faced with the grim reality of being the final surviving member.

Once again your happiness and accomplishments feel hollow and empty.

You're a self described popular loner. Meaning that you have a lot of acquaintances and people generally like you but no close friends.

What was the point of even existing if there was noone there to share your joy with?

As you plan yet another funeral by yourself Poe and the leader of the red squadron, Garven Dreis, have both been sending holograms that you haven't been answering.

The red leader is likely assuming that you've gone AWOL, you surmise nervously, meaning that there might be people looking for you.

You haven't told anyone that your father died. What was the point? You thought bitterly.

It's just been you, death and your own increasingly dark and harmful thoughts.

The funeral is private with only you in attendance. You had your father cremated and you dug a small hole next to your mother's grave and buried him yourself.

The eulogy? Tears and silence.

You haven't really slept or eaten in days. You are wild eyed and absolutely hysterical from grief. You've gone mute from shock and can't really communicate with anyone.

You look like a walking skeleton due to weight loss. The thought of dying is the only thing that brings a smile to your face.

You clean yourself up, fix your hair and put on nice clothing so when your body is discovered at least you'll be presentable.

As you sit on that little stone bench in the family cemetery you start to think about how and where you want to end it.

You love being in control.

With your final plans in order you head back to the family home and compose your goodbye.

Poe,

I couldn't take it anymore and ended my pain. If you're reading this it's already too late. You can find me at the place where it all started between us.

Love,

Y/n

D'Qar, emergency meeting with General Organa

Poe has been trying to contact you for three days with no response. He's convinced that something terrible has happened to you and he's not wrong.

Finally as a last resort he arranged an emergency meeting with General Organa to explain what has happened, and that he must travel to Yavin 4 again.

"I need to leave, it's a family emergency". Poe explains quickly to Leia, a desperate look appearing on his face.

"You're needed here, I can't grant you any more leave". She replies sharply. "If the first order attacks we'll be crippled without the black squadron".

"Someone I care about is in danger". He explains, the tone of his voice switching from desperation to anger.

"You're staying here and that's an order". Leia replies defiantly.

Poe is absolutely livid at her orders. With a slight smile on his face he looks at her and says with a shake of his head,

"No, I'm going, what are you going to do? Court marshal me? Throw me in prison? The first order will win without me and you know it".

The edge of the rainforest, Yavin 4

You're relaxing on a blanket at the edge of the rainforest. It was the same spot where you lost your innocence to him decades earlier.

It was where you and Poe shared your thoughts, dreams and feelings for each other.

It only seemed fitting that you would end your life there.

As you relax on your back and watch the clouds drift by your eyes wander to the item next to you, on your right.

Your trusty, standard issue blaster pistol.

You sit up quickly, pick it up and begin to examine it with your hands, the memories come flooding back.

Meanwhile at your family farm Poe has landed his X wing nearby and was searching desperately for you or your father.

"Corr? Y/n? Where are you?" He calls out desperately, going from room to room.

Finally he stumbles upon your hastily written suicide note, and realizes that it might be too late.

You haven't done anything, yet. But you are still contemplating.

You are now holding the blaster, mentally and physically you are exhausted and run down.

You can't decide if you need some sleep or if you need to kill yourself, you think with a bitter laugh, the irony of your situation striking you as funny.

Finally, you've made your decision. You close your eyes and place the blaster to your heart.

And then, all of a sudden the blaster goes flying out of your hand and tumbling down the cliff, someone has just used the force to save your life.

You turn around to see who it is, and you instantly burst into tears.

End of chapter 7

[jeanjauthor]

How do I do a book that’s pre clock invention that spans years but in one book? How do I time jump that my readers know what year or month it is?

How did the builders of Stonehenge 5,000 years ago know how to align it celestially with the solstices, etc?

Does your planet have stars visible at night? Does it have a moon that orbits that world? (Or is it an inhabitable moon orbiting a gas giant?) Does it have a sun that moves across the sky, creating angles to discern moments in time, and dividing day from night? Does it have seasons in the area where the story takes place?

...By seasons, I don't mean frozen winters, hot summers, etc. Seasons could be "monsoon rains vs dry season" or "the daily afternoon rains are coming, time to pull the laundry off the line."

In the Earth's Children series by Jean M. Auel (zero relation), the people of the Clan (her created culture for Neanderthalensis) didn't really have or use numbers (other than the mog-ur/shamans), but they did label their years for their children such as "birthing year, walking year, weaning year." They also carried a constant awareness of what season it was--any culture, from hunter-gatherer on up through agrarian (farming) will have that awareness of what time of year it is.

Once you hit industrial revolution, they'll most likely invent clocks, but long before the invention of gear mechanisms (*conveniently ignores the antikythera mechanism*) people still had calendars. The ancient Egyptian calendar began on different dates because it was dependent upon the annual flooding of the Nile, but they still had months and days because they depended upon the Moon to help order the passage of time. Same with China; their months were measured by the moon, their New Year would vary year by year, but they had months and they had days and they even had hours that were labeled.

And before the invention of geared clocks, people still had clocks. They had candles of specific regular thickness and length marked with measured cuts along the side, or a small nail stuck into the wax; when it dropped from melting (usually into a metal pan so it made a loud, noticeable noise) or the candle melted down to a particular mark, they knew how much time had passed.

They also had water clocks, which were designed to drip water at a specific rate from one container to another. These varied in shape, design, and timespan, but they are one of the most ancient recognizable timekeeping pieces available, and often consisted of a bowl floating in another, larger bowl, with the smaller bowl having a pinprick hole. When that pinprick filled the smaller bowl high enough, it would sink, and clink against the bottom of the larger bowl. These versions of timekeeping have been found in certain Indigenous American cultures as well as in African, European, and Asian communities. (Not sure about Australian indigenous.)

Macadamia nuts were used by Polynesians as literal candle-nuts, and since most macadamias are similar in size, this meant that they, too, could be burned as a unit of measuring time. (Not necessarily scientifically accurately, but hey, it works at least somewhat!)

As for measuring the passage of weeks and months and years, each region and culture had its own way of measuring time--a lot of them were annotated like this: "In the 3rd year of the reign of Thutmoses II" and "In the 43rd year of the reign of our glorious Queen Elizabeth (I)..." Of course, by the time Queen Elizabeth I ruled, they'd had the Gregorian calendar being used by most everyone in Europe, and they did have mechanical clocks, but you'd still have outliers using the Julian Calendar. (Modern day Russia, the government, uses the Gregorian now, but the Russian Orthodox Church still uses the Julian calendar, for example.)

If it's a real world era & culture, you can simply look that up. But if it's a created world & culture...you gotta figure out how they'd approach the matter. If their culture relies more upon agriculture than religion, they'd use more agriculture-specific terms.

The Coastal Salish peoples here in the Pacific Northwest literally named some of their months by which edibles were available, such as "Berry Shoot Month" for the time of year when they'd go around looking for new growth on specific bramble vines to cut, peel, and eat in the early spring, or "Salmonberry season" whcih is when the eponymously orange berries become ripe enough to harvest...which is also just before the late spring/early summer salmon spawning runs for certain salmon species. This progression of what-to-gather-when was a strong influence upon how they labeled their calendar.

If, however, it's a heavily religious community, then there may be things like specific days or months devoted to a particular god or spirit/entity, specific saint's days to celebrate at certain times of year (you're always hearing about "the Feast of St. Crispin's Day" or "we'll meet again two days after Michaelmas" in medieval-setting stories).

If it is a created world...well, that means you'll want to create a calendar. it doesn't have to be super complex, but you do want to figure out how it'll be set up, how long the days are, how long the weeks, how long the months, and of course how long the years. I haven't read the Game of Thrones series, but apparently winter lasts a really long time, so there's that. In my IaVerse, every planet has a different rotational cycle and day length, so they all had to agree upon a universal or "Alliance Standard" for measuring time...but while Earth days and V'Dan days technically aren't the same, their years (length of time it takes to go around their respective suns) actually come pretty darn close, so a Terran born on Earth will reach the age of 18 years old at about the same time as a V'Dan born on V'Dan.

However, a Terran born on Mars will be 18 in Earth years at the same time as the V'Dan born on V'Dan, IF they use Earth years, but in Mars years, they'll "only be" 9.5 years old (the Earth orbits the Sun in 365-ish days, while Mars orbits the Sun in 687 days, give or take). So everyone within the Terran United Planets has agreed that "Terran Standard" is based upon Earth measurements (Greenwich Mean Time), so no matter where you go in space, if you're aboard a Terran ship, they mark time in Terran units...and then add in a second digital display to "synch" time with whatever local area they're at.

Of course, that's high tech post-clock stuff, but it still applies to some degree--again, think of the Julian calendar versus the Gregorian calendar. Before the Russian government shifted to using the Gregorian calendar, there used to be all manner of confusion about booking hotel rooms, when business meetings were to take place, so on and so forth. And despite the fact that the Chinese calendar has been in use for far longer...they, too, have taken to using the Gregorian calendar just so that everyone can be doing business on the same page. This wasn't always the case.

If your characters are going to be traveling in a different culture, if they speak that culture's language, then they may be aware of the confusion that will occasionally strike those who are used to one system but not the other. Otherwise they'll use their own culture's time references--Rappa Nui was "named" Easter Island because that's the day of the European calendar year when the European explorers encountered it, even though it already had a name.

If they're going to be at home / not traveling, then they (and you!) won't have to worry about other cultural timekeeping methods. Just come up with your own, decide if it's based upon agriculture, astronomy, mythology, religion, and/or state leader worship (July and August are both named after Roman Emperors, Julius Caesar and his successor Augustus, iirc). It could even be a mix of things, like our own months. (January is named after Janus the two-faced god of ancient Rome, but our week-days include Wodin's Day, Thor's Day, Freya's Day, for the Norse Gods, then back to Rome for Saturn's Day, etc.)

Calendars, like cultures, are living things, constantly affected by the people creating them and living within them, shaping and reshaping everything. Don't be afraid to mix things up a little, if it's a created culture you're working within.

Hope that helps!

[kaaras-adaar]

Kaaras and the Valo-kas

//  Kaaras is NOT a member of the Valo-Kas. For long term RP partners, they most likely know this (or for those who have read over Kaaras’ profile). I did have him in contact with them prior, but it’s easier to have Kaaras as a stand alone character without the ties to the Valo-Kas. So I’d like to shed some light on his mercenary life.

When Kaaras was only five, he came into his magic. At the markets in Ferelden, a group of older kids began picking on him and chasing him–in an attempt to beat him up and most likely steal anything he had on his persons. While he was defending himself, Kaaras was backed into a corner and ended up using a force blast to knock them back.

Kaaras is a qunari, so he never would have been accepted into a Ferelden Circle–they’d rather have him hanged (or made Tranquil). However, Kaaras’ future trainer (Saarebas), saw the incident and made sure that the children didn’t taddle on him–how she did this was probably by scare tactics and threats to them before they could reach their parents, and the incident was never legally reported. Even if it was, most people were afraid to approach a family of qunari.

When this all happened, Kaaras was mortified and ran all the way home in tears. He had no idea what had happened, he’d just thought of pushing them back and it had happened, and he was freaking out. His mother and father had no idea how to deal with their child being a mage (considering they are Tal’Vashoth, only having fled the Qun when pregnant with Kaaras). Neither of them are mages, so they were out of their depth and element.

After a few days had passed, Saarebas knocked on their door and informed them that she had seen the incident, and let them know that Kaaras was safe from the law–for now–but he had to get his magic under control if they didn’t want a repeat of what had happened. Aban and Anaan were desperate for help, and she knew this. They were a poor family that was struggling to make any coin off their farm. Saarebas knew that they could not offer her anything in return for her help, but she was a spiritual woman, and she saw something special when she saw Kaaras, and she believed that if well trained, he could be destined for great things. I should note that Saarebas is an exceptionally spiritual woman, one who actually spoke to spirits–as well as reading tarot cards. What she saw in Kaaras was something, and she believed it. So she offered to help train him so he could gain control of his magic. In return, the Adaar family allowed her to stay in the barn if she was in the area–as she worked as a mercenary and often crossed Southron Hills (the house was small and could barely house them all as was).

Her form was strict and harsh. She wasn’t exactly a mean woman, but she wasn’t nurturing either. Not in a soft way. She was far more the “tough love” kind of woman. But her training is what made Kaaras so disciplined in his magic, and in his will.

After Kaaras’ father died when he was 12, he promised he’d find the remaining man who attacked their home and bring him to justice. He knew Saarebas was a mercenary, and he asked her every day when could he join. It was his soul purpose. Eventually, Saarebas knew that she couldn’t stop him, and said he was ready. If she could not take him under her wing, then he would go it alone, which she couldn’t allow.

Her mercenary group was not the Valo-Kas, it was her own, named the Ash Ataash (to seek glory). Mostly it was with humans and elves no thanks to being in Ferelden. When there wasn’t much coin going for them, they ended up moving to the Marches, in Kirkwall. Competition was fierce within the area, even though there was plenty of jobs going around. Kaaras (and any other qunari) was seen as an asset due to their strength and will to get things done. This meant the Ash Ataash stood out. After being approached by a very qunari orientated band (named the Ralshokra after the supposed death challenges), Saarebas accepted the offer for them to join. It gave them a chance to get work when it was already difficult for such a small band to get good jobs that paid well.

After a few years with them, the Ralshokra had gained a ruthless name for themselves, and Kaaras gained a lot of experience. He didn’t always agree with what was happening and the jobs, but he understood that he was in need of coin to send back to his mother back on the farm.

When he was 24, Kaaras grew fond of one of the other members, Stenn (the former love of his life before Inquisition). Kaaras was in a messy place, and for years after his father died, he’d taken to alcohol as a crutch. Kaaras often drank himself into a stupor to try and take away the pain of his father’s death, as well as sharing a bed with others who approached him and wanted sex. He didn’t have penetrative sex with anyone, in fact, his pride (and shame) stopped him from doing that, at least a part of what little pride he still had in himself. That and he’d always wanted to wait for that someone special. Kaaras has always been a romantic at heart.

Stenn stopped all of this. He was the absolute calm to Kaaras’ storm. He was kind, gentle, loving, and everything Kaaras really needed in a time of need. It was often just talking, staying up late with each other while on the road as everyone else slept. Eventually, it turned into a romance, but they took things very slow. Stenn wanted it to be slow for Kaaras, instead of all the quick paced running into things he was usually doing in trying to soothe his pains. It was also slow because of Kaaras’ lack of alcohol to give him confidence, not to mention the physical pain he could be in at times no thanks to his condition.

Gentle kisses soon became touches, and eventually they went further to being nude with one another, but never penetrative sex. When they were going to, they were interrupted, and the moment was pretty much stolen from them. It had taken all of Kaaras’ courage to get to that point, so it was smashed again, and it just never had time to grow once more as soon after, their band was under attack, and Saarebas ended up dying.

When Saarebas died, it put a huge strain on their romance, no thanks to Kaaras, determined to believe that the bad orders had gotten Saarebas killed. There were disagreements and bad tension, and in the end Kaaras made his decision: he left. Some of the Ralshokra went with him, in agreement that the leadership was too reckless. Stenn remained behind, in disagreement and rather set in his ways (he was a lot older than Kaaras). In a moment of angst, the both of them were far too stubborn and hurt to set aside their differences, and they parted. They never said that they had fallen in love with each other, and the bitterness from their parting kept them from saying it, however, Kaaras showed that he was thankful for everything his lover had ever done for him, and while hurt, they did not part on angry terms.

This was when Kaaras moved up to Starkhaven and that’s where he started recruiting more men. He became the captain of the company and they settled there doing mercenary work for the next few years under the title of the Beres-taar (meaning ‘shield’). Kaaras devoted his life to this, to making better decisions, to letting go of his hate and unhappiness. This was his new goal.

The Beres-taar were quick to make a name for themselves, having some of the advantage of former Ralshokra members. Kaaras was a natural born leader, and with the mistakes of the former band he’d been in, he was determined to give his company a good and loyal name for the work they did. This eventually got the attention of nobles in the area, and they earned a decent living.

Eventually, their name was known enough in Starkhaven that they were suggested to aid with protecting the Divine during the peace talks. This was the first time Kaaras had ever run into the Valo-Kas. The only time Kaaras has ever taken part in knowing the company is via the peace talks. Kaaras was asked specifically by reputation and having previously worked with the Prince of Starkhaven and nobles. Kaaras’ company themselves are not overly large, but they are hard workers who are dedicated to their jobs. Numbers was a must, however, so Kaaras was fine when he got the news that another band would be accompanying them.

Both the Beres-taar and Valo-Kas went to the Conclave alongside one another, however, because the Valo-Kas was more well known thanks to more years of being in service, everyone assumes Kaaras was under their title. He wasn’t, and he corrects EVERYONE who says he is and was, but this is why people assume he’s from the Valo-Kas in Inquisition. 

During his travel back through Kirkwall, Kaaras and Stenn reunited, however, things had changed between them, and Kaaras had changed too much as a person to continue a romance. The events at the Conclave happened, and they were separated, Kaaras became the Herald and Stenn remained in Kirkwall.

Everything else is pretty much known to his timeline. :)

So, Kaaras is NOT a member of the Valo-kas and he never has been. The only time he’s been in contact with them was during the peace talks. Everything you see in Inquisition for the Valo-Kas missions pretty much isn’t canon to Kaaras, however, he does keep in contact with them as there’s no bad blood between them and they were both at the Conclave together.

I will do a meta on Kaaras’ life in Starkhaven another time, but this is why Kaaras is not a member of the Valo-Kas, but why some people assume he is, and that I wanted to at least stay true to parts of the canon, but also pull away from it.

[365days365movies]

January 29, 2021: Mad Max (1979)

I’ve made it no secret how much I love the movie Mad Max Fury Road.

It’s a chase movie through the dystopian Australian desert featuring guys in souped-up, tricked out cars and motorcycles, and Charlize Theron has one metal arm and is a bad-ass, and also this shit.

Look, I’m not exactly a testosterone-fueled basic bro, but...COME ON MAN THIS MOVIE ROCKS. I just love it SO MUCH. So, why the hell haven’t I seen the other movies in this franchise, all of whom are directed by the same person? Well, my answer to that is the same as it always is.

I genuinely don’t know. I just never have. BUT THIS IS ACTION JANUARY! What better time to fill in this missing blank than RIGHT GODDAMN NOW?

LET’S GO. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

So, it’s “a few years from now,” in Australia. Given the past year, this has become slightly more realistic, but anyway. A cop-killer named Nightrider (Vincent Gil) is on the loose, and the cops are on the case. Soon, an entire platoon appears to be chasing the Nightrider and his girlfriend. All the while, we get a glimpse of another policeman, gearing up to join the chase.

We get some car chase action, crashes included, with a couple of cars destroyed, a phone booth tipped over, half of an RV demolished, and one cop possibly dead. All the while, a car labeled Interceptor pulls onto the road, ready to join the case.

The driver of the Interceptor is none other than Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson), who, uh...intercepts. Also...Rockatansky? Is...is that silly or the best last name I’ve ever heard? I genuinely do not know, and that disturbs me. 

They drive right into a construction zone, with Max right behind, and Nightrider’s car explodes, and Max stops in time, and we get our first full look at him as he stares on, surprised.

Max goes home to his wife and son, who are totally gonna be alive by the end of this movie, probably throughout the whole franchise. He heads to work the next morning to meet with a colleague, Goose (Steve Bisley), a motorcycle cop who broke his leg in the chase. With a friend, they’ve put together a new car, a Pursuit Special.

This, however, appears to be some kind of plot by two high-ups, Commissioner Laboutache (Jonathan Hardy) and “Fifi” Macaffee (Roger Ward). Seems like they’ve provided the car to keep Max on the force, as he’s their top cop, and yearns to quit the force. I can only assume that it’s because of his wife and kids, who will definitely be alive by the end of this movie. The proof of that just KEEPS PILING UP.

Max appears high in demand today, though, as a group of motorcycling nomads ride into a small town, looking for the body of Nightrider. They’re led by the TOTALLY SANE Toecutter (Hugh Keays-Byrne), and they wreak havoc on the town and its citizens. A young couple try to escape the town, but they soon find themselves chased by the gang, their car is destroyed, and they are...well, they aren’t killed, but it’s not good.

Their fate is soon discovered by Max and Goose. The young man is seen running away, the girl is rescued, and a drugged-up gang member is discovered screaming “Nightrider!” Max and Goose now have an idea of what’s going on.

The gang member, Johnny the Boy (Tim Burns), is arrested and brought back to HQ. Toecutter’s right-hand man, Bubba Zanetti (Geoff Parry), is sent back to get him. To be specific, he sends his attorneys to fetch Johnny. On the day of his trial, nobody shows up, including the young couple. Therefore, Johnny’s allowed to walk. Goose is NOT OK with that outcome, and assaults Johnny and his attorneys.

Back with Toecutter, Johnny Boy is almost killed, as the group find some surveillance devices planted on a...manakin? Yeah, they have this weird sexual fascination with a realistic shop manakin, and the cops bugged it. Not sure what else to tell you, that’s just what happens.

The next day, Goose leaves home, and we see that Johnny Boy’s figured out where he lives, as he’s waiting outside. Goose rides to work, but the wheels of his motorcycle look up, and he FLIES off the highway.

He’s...completely OK? Yeah, like, he’s totally fine. No idea how the hell THAT happened, and the guy that picks him up shares my sentiments. Goose borrows the man’s truck, and heads out, but Johnny Boi intercepts him with a well-thrown brake drum. HA! He stops him with brakes.

The truck crashes, and Goose is still surprisingly alright as Toecutter arrives. Toecutter, violently ant-cop, orders Johnny Boy to set the truck and Goose on fire, as it’s leaking fuel. Johnny doesn’t want to, but Toecutter gets it done anyway. Geez, what is it with action movies and guys named Goose? LEAVE GEESE ALONE, MOVIES!

At the hospital, Max arrives to see his critically injured partner, who’s badly burned and on a respirator. Max is VERY affected by his old friend’s massive injuries, and heads home. He quits, for good this time, although Fifi insists otherwise. Max insists that he’s scared that he’ll begin to enjoy the danger of it too much, and would rather stay rational for the sake of his family. Fifi convinces him to simply take a few weeks off, and think about it further.

So, Max takes the time off, going on vacation with his family. He talks to his wife Jess (Joanne Samuel) about his father, and his feelings for her, and they’re toooootally gonna live until the end of the movie.

They stop in a town, and stop at a shop to fix the car. Jess takes her son to a beach get some ice cream. And also staying at the beach is...Toecutter and his gang…yup. Yup, here we go. They obviously assault, since ME WANT WOMAN OONGA BOONGA, and she escapes with their son. She picks up Max, and they take off. 

Feeling unsafe, the family heads to a friend’ s farm to stay safe and fix up their car. Jess goes down to the beach near the farm...and so does Toecutter and his gang. On her way back through the forest (how much property do these people OWN), she finds herself followed by the gang. And then, she…

...makes it back to Max. Huh. I was sure she was a goner. Anyway, Max gets their friend to take her back to the house, and he goes hunting for them. However...their son is still out there. Shit.

Jess, a devoted mother, goes to find him, only to find him in the hands of Toecutter and his men. But damn, they’re SAVED by their friend, May Swaisey (Shiela Florence), who comes with a gun in tow. She fires it, alerting Max to the trouble, then grabs the baby alongside Shields. They flee, with Toecutter’s gang eventually escaping.

Unfortunately, Max never finished fixing the car, and it dies on the highway, with the gang in hot pursuit. Despite May’s best efforts…

Fuck.

Sprog’s dead. And Jess is in a coma, and they say that she’s going to recover. But, uh...yeah, that doesn’t matter to Max. After Goose, Jess, and HIS SON? Toecutter’s DEAD. And Max goes and gets his car at the police station. First stop is the mechanic from earlier, who told Toecutter where they were. And Max ain’t playing around at this point.

Turns out that the group hangs by the beaches in order to intercept fuel trucks, and siphon off their fuel. With that intel, Max goes hunting. And OH BOY, he’s out for blood.

He runs four of them off a bridge, then heads to find more.  He goes after more, then sees someone downed in a field. Unfortunately, it’s an ambush, and Johnny, Bubba, and Toecutter shoot him in the leg and run over his hand. Bubba tries to run him over, but gets shot in the process. Johnny and Toecutter take off, as a...falcon begins to eat Bubba?

Yeah...yeah ABSOLUTELY not how falcons work, but OK then.

Max runs Toecutter down in his car, then causes him to ram into an oncoming truck. We get some CRAZY ASS EYE SHOTS (they are weird), and Toecutter bites it...in a really unceremonious fashion, considering that he was the one to kill your son. Anticlimactic, but OK.

Still gotta find Johnny, though, and Max drives all night in search of him, only to find him having killed a man and driven his car off the road. Max meets him at gunpoint, and cuffs him to the downed car as be begs for his life, claiming his own innocence. Doesn’t matter at this point, though.

And that...is Mad Max. Huh. That was...interesting. And somehow, very different than I expected! But here’s the deal...

No Epilogue.

Yup, I’m tackling ALL of the Mad Max films at the same time! See you tomorrow for the next one!

January 30, 2021: Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981)