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writingescapades · 2 years ago

Text

The First Adventure

A/N: This is very long... I'm not too happy with the ending but it's already 6k+ words... I also had to play around with cannon, so work with me here.

Behind Inazuma’s closed gates the Archon watched. Behind her were the Tenryou and Kanjou clans made up numerous nobles all allying to her command while daggers flew around. Behind them sat Ayato of the Yashiro clan who watched the region with his thousand eyes. Yet you managed to slip past all three. The archon was busy with her vision hunt, so a visionless individual was of no immediate concern to her. The nobles were too preoccupied with each other’s backs to bother looking elsewhere. And Ayato had to reconcile himself to the fact that one of his eyes was either lazy, negligent, or allured away from their duties.

You didn’t bother to hide your foreign identity. You couldn’t anyway, your features gave you away. Yet you walked around Inazuma with confidence, curiosity laced in your every move. People stared at you, but with the civic chaos and lack of resources resulting from the vision hunt, they could not be bothered by one more anomaly. And since you were the only merchant willing to barter, they quickly learned to keep mum and look away. Ayato would probably have never met you, if he didn’t choose to go out into the cool night on that particular day. Tied up in handling the persecutions and helping his sister build resistance, he too would have dismissed you from his mind if you hadn’t been doing the most oddest of actions. It was past midnight, a brief tranquility between the chaos of yesterday and the chaos to emerge today. No one dared roamed the streets, no one except Ayato that is. And what odd sight did he witness? There you were, laid out under your wagon, tinkering with the pipes, careless to the world.

Propelled more by curiosity than concern, Ayato approached you and called out to you. You emerged out from under you wagon, face smeared with mechanical oil and looked at him expectantly.

“What are you doing here,” Ayato asked, cutting out any greetings. It was hardly the situation for formalities anyway.

“Fixing my wagon,” came your equally curt reply.

“Why?”

“Because it’s broken”.

Your voice was laced with a matter of fact amusement. He probably deserved it given the stupidity of his question. Still, he brought out his sword and pressed it against your side.

“Explain yourself”.

The sensation of metal poking into your skin forced you to seriously look at your tormentor. A young man, no older than you yourself were. Where did he get the audacity to pull such a stunt?

“Are you going to kill me because I’m fixing my wagon?”

“The region of Inazuma is closed to outsiders, how did you get here?”

“By boat”.

“Impossible”.

You gestured to your wagon and yourself and shrugged. Ayato could not pick up any lies in your voice, and it was true that you would need a boat to get your wagon into Inazuma, but to slip in so easily, something nefarious had to be in the works. He reached for your arm and picked you up.

“I think you’d better come with me,” he said and started dragging you away, ignoring your protests about your wagon. As he walked away with you, two pairs of eyes watched from within the wagon.

...

If you had known that a crazy man would suddenly drag you into a prison cell in the middle of the night, you would have had second thoughts about coming into Inazuma. You had an order to deliver. Yet, here you were, three days later, stuck in a prison cell. The cell was cold and empty save for a pile of straws. A guard was posted outside the door to your cell, the key most likely in his possession. You eyed the prison door for the hundredth time. You could probably break out of there easily, but then what? Run straight into the guard’s arms?

You leaned against the prison bars and sang another song. The guard groaned as he resigned to listen to your terrible voice. He had tried to threaten you to stop, but you merely observed him and asked if his master, who arrested you for further questioning, would appreciate it if you suddenly became silent. So the guard endured your voice, praying that his master would exact a satisfying retribution upon you and your sly behaviour. Unbeknownst to the guard, sly personalities were a mark of those who were blessed by lady luck, and tonight she took the form of two creatures who slipped into the prison. They padded unnoticed through the prison and once they picked up your scent, they launched a full out attack on the guard. Biting ankles, hissing, scratching, and dodging attacks, the creatures managed to irritate the guard into bellowing curses and chasing after them. The guard would forever wonder whether he did the right thing in chasing those night creatures, but he learned to always treat cats with a terrified awe.

Picking the cell door with ease, you slipped out of the prison and ran into the night. You didn’t know where your wagon was. You didn’t know where your cats were. You didn’t even know your delivery address. But you had a clue and you chased it through Inazuma’s dark alleys and out into the wasteland. A grey boulder with a thick black stripe running throughout was your sign and you ran toward it and bent down. Neatly hidden between the rock and dirt was a piece of paper. Opening the paper, you found a crudely drawn map, a few symbols and an ‘x’. A garbage guide for a foreigner.

You tucked the map into your clothes and started to walk back to Inazuma when a sight stopped you. Littered on the ground where numerous bodies. Some unconscious, some dead. In the middle of the bodies was a man. The moonlight made his hair take silver-blue hue, but it was unmistakably the man who chucked you into the prison cell. His back was initially to you, but at the sound of your foot steps, he turned, sword out. His eyes widened upon seeing your figure then hardened as he prepared himself for an attack.

You quickly turned around and sped away from the situation, but it wasn’t long before your arm was jerked back and once again a dagger was placed under your chin.

“Who are you?” the man asked sternly.

You gave your name.

“How did you escape the prison?”

“Luck,” was your honest reply.

The man pressed the dagger deeper into your chin and peered hard into your eyes.

“Let me explain your situation,” he spoke calmly now. “Inzauma’s in a state of civil unrest. I am its guard dog, and you are an unaccounted for individual who behaves suspiciously. Now what would you do in my position?”

“Probably let the individual explain themselves and not chuck them into prison,” you replied.

Truthfully, Ayato had wanted to interrogate you and find out whether you were a threat. But as usual, work took precedence and he had to leave the conversation for the battlefield.

“I see three days in prison did not quell your tongue. Should I cut it off?” The man spoke sweetly but gave you a short sadistic smile. The dagger now moved to your lips.

“Would you let me go after that?” you asked.

The question surprised the man. He had expected anger, fear, even a confession, but to barter your tongue for your life, how was he to respond to that? Curiosity replaced aggression, though he still held you in a strong grip.

“Alright, explain yourself”.

“I’m here to sight see!” you chirped.

The two of you stared at each other in silence. Ayato’s face showed utter disbelief while yours displayed a quiet fortitude as you waited for him to make a decision. You both knew he could kill you this very moment. No one would notice, no one would question him. No one would ask about you. Yet, Ayato hesitated to make that decision. It wasn’t just because of the possibility that you were telling the truth, but the fear he had of what such an action would make of him. Would he really be any different than the nobles he stood apart from? He found himself wanting his sister’s advice. So he dragged you off to an unknown destination and you sighed, resigning yourself to a repeated performance.

...

“Where is her wagon?” Ayaka asked.

Ayato stared at his sister, perplexed by her question. He had brought you back to the Kamisato estate. You were currently in the stables being watched by Thoma. Any attempt to escape, and he had orders to kill you. Meanwhile, Ayato had explained the situation to his sister. She always knew how to handle people better than Ayato did. Ayaka listened to the story patiently, but her only concern seemed to be about the wagon.

“I asked Thoma to take care of it,” Ayato replied.

“If she’s just here to sight see, I can escort her. No one would mess with us and she would also be protected,” Ayaka offered.

“And if that was her ploy? What if she leads you to an ambush?” Ayato shook his head. He didn’t want to take that risk.

Ayaka sighed. “We’re both busy Ayato. Either we work with her or let her go. If she causes problems, we can only handle them when they arise”. She laughed at the grimace on Ayato’s face when he saw what options he had. Only around her such a face would openly reveal itself.

The following morning, Ayaka greeted you with your wagon and let you leave the estate. You checked your wagon and saw your cats made it back safely. Not wanting to waste any more time, you moved quickly through the streets, avoiding the crowds, only stopping when someone asked you for a barter. Eventually, you reached one of the symbols in your map. It was a tree with a single lantern hanging from one branch. A beautiful spot as it overlooked a rather large town engulfed by a wall. There were gates that lowered, indicating that the only way in and out was through the watchful gaze of the sentinels. Somewhere within there was a house that desperately awaited you. You only hoped you were not too late.

You left your wagon hidden on the outskirts of the town and took only your tools and cats. Then you looked at your map. After the lantern tree, there was a wall with an arrow drawn on it. Walking carefully around the town walls, you looked for the arrow. Once you found it, you looked in its direction and saw a metal pipe sticking out from the top of the wall. You weren’t sure what would greet you on the other side of the pipe, but it was your only way into the town. You undid one sash you wore around your waist and looped it through the pipe. Then you undid another sash and tied your cats to your body. Ready now, you hoisted yourself up, using your feet to walk up the wall. Reaching the top, you saw on outlook posted directly underneath. You quickly crossed over and ducked down into the dark. There was no telling who might have been altered. Minutes passed, but only the wind greeted you. Taking the chance, you quietly crouched down the steps, taking care to not move to suddenly and avoid making any sound. Once you reached the ground, you scampered into a dark alley and took out your map to see the final symbol.

The map showed a house with woodcutting block near a small well. You started to walk away from the clusters of houses. If the house had a woodcutting block and well, it was likely the house was away from the bustle of a town. You soon came across farmlands with small hut-like houses spaced out between vast fields. You neared a set of trees where a small old temple to the archon rested. You released your cats and they began to stretch. As you rested and thought, you noticed a house way off in the distance. In front of the house was a woodcutting block and well. At last! But before you could move towards the house, a sharp object pressed against your back.

“I knew not to trust you,” a familiar voice called out.

You turned around and saw, once again, a young man with silver-blue hair under the moonlight. Had circumstances been different, you would have laughed at meeting the man for the third time in the night. But now you were so close to your objective and time was so short, if there was even any time left. You knew if you ran, the man would run you through. But you could not afford a moment’s delay. You decided to take a risk.

“Can I trust you?” you asked.

Again, Ayato was surprised by your question. Here he was with a sword pointed towards you, questioning your intentions, yet you dared to ask him if he was to be trusted.

Growing annoyed by his silence you rephrased your question.

“Do you care about your people?”

Now the man’s reply came fast, confirming his devotion with utmost serenity.

“Then help me.” You pointed to the house in the distance. “I need to get there now!”

Ayato lowered his sword. The anger and determination on your face confirmed your honesty, but he had no idea why a foreigner would need to reach a poor farmer in the remotest part of Inazuma. But, seeing no other alternative, he nodded his head and led you to his horse. You tied your cats back to you, leapt onto the horse, grabbed hold of the reigns, and held out to Ayato. Surprised once again by your daring to guide his horse and by the fact that you had not galloped away, Ayato only leapt on behind you. You told him to hold on and clicked at the horse to speed off. It flew at speeds Ayato never knew it could run at and he found himself holding tightly to your waist and leaning into the wind as it rushed at him. Not once did you slap the reigns or kick the beast, yet it still obeyed you.

Soon enough you reached the house and the horse came to a halt. You leapt off the horse, ran towards the door, and knocked. A light came on in the house and the door cracked open a sliver. You waved, smiled, and took out a small pouch from your clothes. Understanding flashed from the man who greeted you, and they opened the door, welcoming you in. You dashed in, failing to notice the fear that spread across the man’s face as they saw the Yashiro commissioner standing outside his house.

You mixed the contents from the small pouch into a water bowl and moved carefully on your knees to the figure lying on the bed, a small girl, red faced and barely able to breathe. You gently lifted the child up and urged her to drink the tincture, but the girl could barely swallow. You reached into your clothes and pulled out your clean undershirt and a small pear knife. Then you cut the shirt into strips. Taking a strip, you rolled it, dipped it into the tincture and pressed it onto the girl’s lips. Slowly the girl sucked on the cloth and swallowed the medicine. You repeated this process again and again throughout the night taking no notice of the two men who watched you. Only when the bowl was empty did you look up. The man who greeted you, most likely the girl’s father, looked at you expectantly.

“If she wakes up, she should recover,” was all you could promise. It wasn’t much, but the heat from the girl’s face had reduced. You relinquished the girl to her father and sat in the corner, petting your cats. Silence entered the house as everyone waited for the girl to wake up. Sometimes you or the father would enter into some conversation. You asked about the town, how the father lived, what he ate for dinner, and so on. Generosity for his daughter’s life made the farmer reply to your questions, but his answers were stilted, never saying more than necessary. His eyes would continuously dart towards Ayato, an action you observed but chose not to comment on.

It was midday by the time the girl woke up. She coughed out a handful of phlegm, which you caught in one of the strips, then cried to her father that she was hungry. The complaint brought tears to her father’s eyes and he hugged his daughter. Once her belly was full, the girl fell back asleep, breathing easily and sleeping peacefully. It was then that you and Ayato decided to take your leave. You mission was done.

“Thank you, Lord Kamisato,” the father bowed deeply towards Ayato at the door. Ayato shook his head and pointed to you.

“You should thank her, you don’t know what lengths she went to bring you the medicine”.

The father profusely bowed towards you. You bowed back, and laughed, telling the father to think nothing of it, the danger had passed.

...

Ayato led you towards the horse and got on, then he held out a hand to you. He looked at you, invitingly, almost challenging you to take his hand, but there was a small smile on his lips. A reconciliation. He gently led the horse back to the deity temple, and then got down. You looked at him confused.

“Whether you realize it or not, your face shows that you are about to collapse”.

His words brought you down to your body and you were suddenly aware of a the exhaustion that laced through you. You realized the man tacitly chose not to push the horse in case you happened fall asleep and slip off. The man took off his coat and bundled it into a pillow on the ground.

“It’s not much, but you should get some sleep”.

“Is it permissible for a Lord to let his clothes touch the ground?” you teased as you got off the horse and stumbled to the make-shift pillow. “Or will such a remark cost me my tongue again?”

Ayato flinched, remembering his previous words and actions. He turned to look at you, but you had fallen sleep. Your cats crawled out of their bundle and slept, protectively, on top of you.

...

You slept until the dawn of the next day, and woke up to the warmth of a camp fire on your back and the orange sky greeting your face. You got up and cleaned yourself into a presentable state. Then you shook out the coat and walked over to the Lord Kamisato. He had been watching the town centre the entire time, eyes focused on the activity and noise. As you handed back the coat, you recognized the clang of metal and screams of anger and fear. You looked at the Lord’s face. His face was without emotions, except for the tension in his eyebrows and his tight lips.

“I can’t do much with a sword, but I’m a crafty planner,” you spoke.

The Lord Kamisato shook his head, understanding your offer. “You do not owe me”.

“I know, and I’m sure you’d like nothing more than for me to leave Inazuma. But the only way out is through that fight,” you reminded him.

The problem was that Ayato did not want to be seen anywhere near that fight. He knew what was happening. A rebellion. But neither could he stay at the shrine. If he went to the rebellion, he could be accused of supporting, even instigating the fight. If he stayed at the shrine, he could be accused of negligence to keep order. Either situation would put him in the limelight.

“At this moment, where do you need to be?” you asked.

“At my desk”.

You whistled, stretched, walked to the campfire, and began to put it out.

“There’s no point in spending all day watching the fight. We’ll escape at night”.

Ayato turned and saw that you had done a good job in making the ground look like it had been long abandoned. You let the horse go a distance away from the temple, removing the harness to make it look like nothing more than a grazing creature. Then you beckoned Ayato to follow you to the temple. Although small, the temple had many hidden crevices and you squeezed Ayato and the harness into one, instructing him to stay there. You then stood at the entrance of the temple, one cat on each side of you, and kept an eye out. It was hilarious really. The swordsman was tucked away into hiding, while the civilian stood on guard. Yet, Ayato found himself trusting your ability to keep him hidden.

Boredom quickly set in and Ayato slipped between talking with you and nodding off. The first question he asked was for you to explain what you were doing in Inazuma”.

“You mean you didn’t figure it out yet, my lord?” you asked sarcastically. “I’m a merchant. I made a delivery”.

“What did the girl have that required medicine from far away?”

Now you hesitated. “Inazuma is dealing with a lot right now, but it’s about to get worse”.

“How so?”

“The illness the girl had is not an unusual case. It’s just one in a rising number of cases. Inazuma is about to have an epidemic in the midst of their civil unrest”.

“So why did you treat just the girl?”

“I was asked to,” you said softly.

“From who?”

You shrugged. You had your suspicions, but no evidence. Not that you would blurt out the name to anyone.

“What about the other people?” Ayato asked sharply. Truly he was upset with himself for being so in the dark about this issue. Why had no one told him?

“I have more medicine in my wagon and a connection in Liyue for more”. You turned around to see the worry on the lord’s face.

“It’s mostly the poor who are affected. I doubt you would have heard about it. The civil unrest takes precedence for nobles”.

You spoke calmly, but Ayato couldn’t help feeling your words strike like a blade, and fell asleep bearing the emotions he felt.

...

“Why are you here?” You asked, when he woke up. It was midday now and he could still hear the shouts and clanging of metal.

“Sight seeing,” he muttered out. You laughed and turned to look at him, interest in your eyes.

“Hey, I wasn’t lying. There was a specific sight, I wanted to see”.

“A sick, dying girl?” Ayato retorted.

“Exactly, not what most cities want to show travellers”.

Ayato accepted your explanation, then said “I got informed that a group of soldiers from the Tenryou commission decided to hit this town for their vision hunt. We have close ties with the town as they are the most loyal supporter of the Kamisato clan, even during our toughest times. It is the last stronghold left for vision bearers and most ran here for the docks, their only way out. I decided to come here and make sure the civilians are alright”.

“Well you failed at that,” You retorted, nodding your head at the current unrest.

“I know,” Ayato whispered and looked down at his hands.

You looked back at him but said nothing.

The girl’s father had spoken to both of you. With a closed nation, Inazuma was dependent on whatever food it harvested. So the archon decreed that anyone caught tampering with the crops would be severely punished. That threat lingered even during the unrest, so farmers in the field were usually left alone. Anyone outside of the field was another story. Of course, an exception was made for vision bearers. They were persecuted wherever they stood. That meant fields still burned and got destroyed. The father knew it was only time before someone attacked his farm, but he could not leave with the other farmers while his daughter was so ill.

Ayato didn’t know when he slept again, but he awoke to you shaking his shoulder. It was night, time to move. You readied the horse and waited for Ayato to join you. He was surprised that the horse did not linger away, but stayed loyal to the two of you. You rode the horse into the centre square, where the fight took place. Blood greeted you. Bodies littered around the ground, some still groaning into their painful deaths. Ayato saw both armed and unarmed corpses. Young and old, it didn’t matter. He closed his eyes and sighed. Upon reaching the centre of the town, you paused.

“Do you need to do anything here or should we go on?”

Ayato shook his head. There was nothing for him to do here. This would have to be Ayaka’s job. You nudged the horse through an open gate. They were all open as the invading warriors came in from all directions. Outside the town, you led the horse towards your wagon and hopped off.

“Well Lord Kamisato, this is where we part”.

Ayato understood. He would be returning to his world and you to yours. You shared a momentary stalemate, but now returned to your respective positions in this calamity.

“Perhaps in another life we would get along better,” you prompted.

“I think we got along fine as it is,” Ayato smiled genuinely. He had thought a lot, hidden in the crevice, and had made a decision. “Be careful,” he cautioned. “I cannot promise to let you go should we meet again”.

You gave a deep nod of acknowledgement.

“One more question”.

You stared at him, amusement apparent on your face.

“Was it my sister who asked you to come?”

You said nothing. Your face revealed nothing.

“You needn’t worry,” he spoke softly. “I support my sister in everything”.

“I have no idea what you are talking about”.

A safe answer, Ayato thought. One can never be sure of anything when one’s own people are fighting each other.

“Now I have a question,” you said.

Ayato looked at you expectantly. You crossed your arms, thinking how to phrase your question to get exactly the answer you want from the clever man.

“When you meet up with your soldiers, you’ll make sure they are alright and that they didn’t hurt the innocent?”

Ayato grinned. “You have my word of honour,” he promised.

“Then as long as you stay true to your word, you have my protection,” you said, returning the promise.

“The Kamisato house is indebted to you. Should you require it, just take the name of Ayato Kamisato”.

You peered into Ayato’s face hard as you took in his words, then gave a curt nod.

“I hope to see you again when Inazuma opens its borders again. I’m sure we can find many interesting topics of discussion”.

Now you chuckled and reached into your wagon. You pulled out a box and handed it to Ayato. He didn’t need to ask what it was. Then you waved, sat on your wagon, and ignited it into motion. Ayato watched as the wagon sped away. An odd device really, but he supposed it became the owner. Holding onto the box, he led his horse away, and became one with the shadows.

...

Ayato looked up from his work and saw Thoma’s scowling face enter the room. He didn’t need to ask what brought out such a face on his friend, he heard the voice. A man entered the room after Thoma. A senior from the Tanryou commission, Mashiro Tetsu, was a man of shady deals and underhanded plans. He presented him in a most formal manner, so no one could catch him in the act. Ayato frequently had to deal with the results of Mashiro’s plans as they often affected social events and projects. Yet, this was the first time, the man had the gaul to visit the Yashiro head.

Ayato nodded once to Thoma who left the room and looked at Mashiro expectantly. Mashiro lounged in the seat and looked haughtily at Ayato.

“Whispers in the wind linger in my garden, leaving traces of themselves in my flowers” Mashiro began and Ayato had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at the elder’s ridiculously formal and poetic speech. “When I stroll in the garden, taking the time to feel all around me, essences of those secrets stimulate my mind”.

Mashiro looked at Ayato, a faint smile on his lips. “Would you like to learn what nature has to say, young Kamisato”. Ayato reflected the smile and waited.

“The chrysanthemums murmur. They say that a young cherry blossom tree is threatening to stretch her roots a little too far into their territory. They worry that the soil of the chrysanthemums would not be appropriate for the cherry blossom tree”.

Ayato stared at Mashiro, saying nothing. The man continued. “You see young Kamisato, gardens are wonderful and harmonious to everyone only when every plant prospers where they are placed. When they try to overreach their space, they are cut, and that makes everyone unhappy”.

“What proof do you have that this, cherry blossom, is overstepping her boundaries?” Ayato asked.

“An army was seen moving towards a certain town under the cherry blossom’s jurisdiction. An army that was known to be loyal to the cherry blossom moving in an area where purification hunts were scheduled to occur by the chrysanthemums.”

Cold fear crept through Ayato but he maintained his smile. “But the cherry blossom had nothing to do with any army”.

“Doesn’t matter to the Archon,” Mashiro smiled viciously. “All she will see is an unauthorized army in an area under the cherry blossom’s jurisdiction”.

“And why have you come to tell me this?” Ayato asked.

“Why young Kamisato,” Mashiro pleaded innocently. “I just wanted to alert you! I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. Perhaps you could find an explanation and prevent any unnecessary violence! The chrysanthemums are sure that this is all an intentional ploy against the cherry blossom, for a weed was also seen in the area”.

Mashiro looked at Ayato. “If you can find that weed and bring it to us, all this would be cleared up!”

Ah, so that was Mashiro’s game. The Tenryou commission would have to explain how an outsider got into Inazuma and how they wound up in the last vision bearer stronghold. Their negligence was now Ayato’s problem. He stood up and thanked the nobleman for the guidance.

“Just looking out for you, young one” Mashiro tutted as he walked out. “Remember not to trust weeds, young Kamisato. You never know what they might do in a garden”.

Ayato thanked the man once more and began to plan.

...

Thoma ran hard through the crowded streets. He and Ayato had long agreed that whenever Ayato received an unexpected visitor, Thoma would hide in the alcove near Ayato’s work room. It allowed him to hear what was happening in case he needed to run and send a warning. Panting hard, Thoma kept pushing his feet until he neared the docks. He knew you would be there.

Back when he was ordered to keep an eye on you, you started to talk with Thoma to pass the time. At first Thoma refused to answer, but you kept talking to him about mundane things and soon the man found himself chatting a little. He couldn’t help it and deep down, he felt that you were not a bad person. Later, Ayaka explained the situation to him and he was glad he trusted his instincts. He learned that you had bribed a boat man to take you here and his instinct now told him that you planned to leave in a similar manner.

Spotting you in a secluded area, Thoma ran up to you and blurted out the story. He then looked into your face and deplored what to do. You pondered through your options, and then sighed. You reached into your wagon and took out your cats. Giving them each a strong hug, you gave the cats to Thoma and asked him to deliver a message to Ayato.

...

Ayato and Thoma gazed at the sight in front of them. After Thoma got back to the estate and Ayato saw the cats, he asked Thoma to take him to the docks. You were not there and in your place laid the wreckage of your wagon. Thoma had explained that when he urged you to provide the message to Lord Ayato himself, you agreed to accompany him back to the Kamisato estate. However, the moment Thoma took his eyes off of you, you disappeared into the crowd.

“What was the message Thoma,” Ayato asked quietly, peering down at the broken pipes and smashed goods.

“She said she’s sorry for the situation she’s about to put you in, but she’s got enough charm to make it interesting in the long run”.

Thoma frowned, not quite understanding the message. But Ayato smiled and asked Thoma to bring Ayaka and come to the Tetsu estate.

When all three members arrived at the entrance to the Tetsu estate, Ayato turned and nodded once to Ayaka and Thoma. They understood that no matter what was said in the meeting, they were not to be surprised and to play along.

Upon entering the estate and greeting Mashiro Tetsu, the elder man sighed and looked at Ayato with annoyance.

“Did I not warn you about weeds in the garden, young Kamisato?”

“Ah,” Ayato smiled lightly and tittered. “You see, your advice came too late”.

“Quite,” Mashiro grumbled and looked with disgust at you. You smiled back at the man.

“So this, this, person,” he spat, “is really Lady Kamisato. Your wife?”

“Yes,” Ayato confirmed. “I knew she was the one for me, but I told her she could take my name when she pleased, and I am a man of my word”.

“So you see sir,” you interjected. “It’s all just a misunderstanding. There was never any army, just an escort”.

“And the chaos that ensued in the town?”

“You can hardly expect me to let my fiance go unprotected during an infiltration? And my army did not harm anyone in the town, you can ask the people yourself,” Ayato replied, though he looked at you when he spoke.

“And I supposed you, young Kamisato, arranged for her to arrive to Inazuma”

“Love triumphs all,” Ayato murmured

“And why should I believe this rubbish?” Mashiro snapped.

“Because you do not have a choice, sir,” Ayaka’s voice rang out. Everyone’s attention turned to her.

“We have been investigating a series of illnesses which all trace back to a rice infestation which a certain group in the Kanjou commission allowed to be bypassed. Most of our rice contains this infestation and instead of stopping trade and controlling the infestation, the head of the group allowed it to be sold and consumed. Turns out the head is you”.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Oh no sir,” Ayaka smiled calmly. “This information will soon be public knowledge We’re just informing you early on, because by the time you are able to say anything, no one will want to hear what you have to say”.

Mashiro sputtered and with that, the four of you got up and left the room. On his way out, Ayato heard the Tanryou man call out to him.

“Remember Ayato Kamisato, A weed takes everything for itself”.

Ayato smiled menacingly. “Sometimes a weed is a weed, and sometimes, it is essential for the garden’s survival”.

Once outside and near the Kamisato estate, Ayaka suddenly turned to look at you.

“Are you sure you are alright with this decision? It’s a lot to ask from you all of a sudden. My brother isn’t an easy person to be married to”.

“Neither am I, so I guess that balances us out,” you reply.

Thoma bursts out, “I can’t believe you two actually went in there and said your married!”

You shrugged. “He,” you pointed to Ayato, “confessed first”.

Ayato moved closer to you and looked into your eyes. “I did warn you that I would not be able to let you got should we meet again”.

“Any expectations to our marriage, my lord?” You asked cheekily.

Ayato laughed softly. “Just the one,” his eyes glimmered “You promised to charm me throughout our marriage. I look forward to what adventures you have in store for me”.

#genshin #genshin impact #writing #ayato #genshin impact ayato #genshin ayato x reader #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #reader be like I'm no one's messenger boy I'm a delivery boy

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morelikeravenbore · 1 year ago

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✨ How to Make a Villain, chapter eighteen [excerpt]

Over the years, Sebastian had snuck out of the castle for all sorts of thrilling and adventurous reasons. Granted, by the time Anne had been cursed and Solomon had banned him from seeing her, most of those reasons had become the nefarious endeavors of a Dark Wizard in the making — or so Ominis had put it. And indeed, never had the Restricted Section of the library been frequented as often as when Sebastian Sallow had prowled its dusty aisles night after night, nor had the secrets beheld in the catacombs beneath Feldcroft been as thoroughly explored until he'd arrived in desperate search of answers and mysterious relics.

But in the early days, after he and Anne mastered the disillusionment charm in their first year, sneaking about had been nothing but a thrilling adventure, a test of daring nerve and magical prowess — in other words: plain and simple fun.

Together, the twins of chaos and their reluctant blind friend had galivanted off to the Forbidden Forest to search for shrivelfigs in the moonlight, or trekked to the top of the astronomy tower, where Ominis had grumbled about the cold and the twins had tried their best to describe the constellations. One time, well past midnight in the dead of winter, Anne had jumped in the Black Lake simply because Sebastian had teased her about being afraid of the Giant Squid. (Sebastian, being secretly afraid of the lake since he'd fallen in during the inaugural boat ride across it in his first year, had stayed firmly on land.)

But he didn't sneak out much any more; without Anne, he hadn't a reason.

Until now.

✍️ How to Make a Villain: wattpad | ao3

sebastian sallow x f!oc, seventh year, dual pov, canon divergent/post fifth year events, suppressed ancient magic, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love.

#how to make a villain #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #sebastian sallow x fmc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow x oc #aurelie collins #sebaura #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #morelikeravenbore writes

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monsooninn · 11 months ago

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Berakhot 9b: 9. "The Wondering Jew."

The line of the Kings of Israel has never lasted more than three hours. Israel is not the powerhouse industrialized nation like those whose nipple tits it is suckling from because its past kings were nefarious, notorious, lazy, corrupt, crooked, and cockeyed. But a few of them did not get power mad, pussy whipped, or pushed around by their friends and also their enemies. The nation, as a result, like its kings did not last.

So how do we last longer than a mere three hours if we try again? How do we not drown in a sea of violence? The Talmud says there are Three Shifts or changes in human composition that are needed if a Fourth is to be possible, and the Fourth cannot be a continuation. Something new must happen.

We know the appearance of a Tzaddik will be new and fantastic, he will free the world from black and white thinking, but now the Mishnah says there are additional pairs of opposites humanity must pare down to one Gemara, also called a fourth hour.

On the Fourth Day, the sun, the moon, and the stars come out. The Gemara on these say "the mean, in the circle, round them off." It also says a Reporter will draw the circle. We have the Reporter but not the circle: we have entered the new Aeon because a Third World War replete with a holocaust of the Jewish people has started again. Nothing constructive or effective is being to remove power from its heating elements, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the Republican Party, Donald Trump, the Russians and the master of disaster himself, Charles Mary. All of this, all of it, is taking place on his turf, on his watch.

Most importantly, Israel has not reconstituted with the Holy Land its ancestral property, nor have the Muslims attained properly to Masjid, the Arabic complement to the Mashiach. Muslims who are a sibling of the Israelites, were nearly blamed for October 7 by the Mormons and would surely have all been annihilated for it if the ruse of their involvement in the Gazan Terror Tunnels was not exposed.

All of this now being on the dashboard, things are going too slowly to address the repurcussions of Israel's absence from the game. Our modern understanding of the Mishnah says we need a hot hawk, "fast, not slow. Fast."

Once the Report is made things must change. Failure to change means the Poles, black and white and now blue and white and others will forever remain separate, and the Masjid, the Mashiach and the Aeon connote the opposite effect.

Recall life split in two the night the Black Pillar fell: God told the Israelites, "kill one more time, then live."

"At midnight of 15 Nissan 2448 (1313 BCE), G‑d broke the last manacle of Egyptian bondage by killing all Egyptian firstborn, and the nation of Israel was born as a free people.

The time is significant: twice1 the Torah emphasizes that the event occurred exactly at midnight, and to this day, midnight is a factor in our annual re-experience of the Exodus at the Seder held each year on the eve of 15 Nissan. (Midnight is the deadline for the eating of the matzah and the bitter herbs, for the eating of the meat of the Passover offering, and for eating the afikoman which today represents the Passover offering at our Seder.)

But can an event actually take place at midnight? It would seem not. If midnight is the line that divides the night in two, then it is not a time period of any duration.

No matter how minute a time-particle we might envision as occupying the center of the night, this particle can itself be halved—its first half would belong to the first half of the night, and its second half to the post-midnight half of the night. Indeed, a more literal translation of the Hebrew words kachatzot halailah, rendered above as “at midnight,” would read “as the night divides.” How, then, can anything be said to occur at the time that the night divides?"

The Egyptians, the Mormons etc. AKA the Condederation are our paschal lambs. Their final blood will protect the door to the future for all the people who believe in Israel for all the ages to come.

For this to happen, for an end to all delusion, suspicion, superstition and mythologizing of the Jew to stop, and for Israel to be a cosmically accepted phenomenon, the mouth of the damned river needs to be shut.

9. Matni' from Imaty Corinne heard Shema in the morning? Distinguishes between light blue and white. Rabbi Eliezer says: Between Teklet and Kirti. And finished, up to the hot hawk, Rabbi Yehoshua says up to three hours, for it is the way of kings to stand for three hours.

The lumbar, the grain store, Korin With Me heard Shema in the morning? Distinguishes between light blue and white. The Master of the Disciplines of Eli Ezer, "bring me succor" says: Between the Record and the Critical. And finished, up to the hot hawk, He is God, says up to three hours, for it is the way of kings to stand for three hours.

The reason Israel is a figment of our imaginations is because it has not been able to bring succor to humanity in God's Name only profound, lasting, and significant amounts of anguish.

This is not our fault certainly not but "they started this fight but by God we are going to finish it."

It is unfortunately the job of the Jewish people to go on a vendetta against those that have wronged them and be rid of them for good. This will require something Israel has never had in recent times, a King and an army that is willing to remain loyal to him and a nation that can sustain itself.

God says in this Gemara to raise an army of the meanest, most powerful ilk and put it to use in exacting tribute from a world that has exceeded its limits, that has ignored God and taken Him for granted and here is how we can do it:

"The identical noun κορος (koros), also spelled κουρος (kouros), means son in the sense of boy or lad. This word stems from the Proto-Indo-European root "ker-", meaning to grow or become bigger (hence too the familiar Latin verb creo, from which English gets the verb to create). This PIE root is suspiciously similar to the Hebrew root כרר (karar), which describes circular motions with the added nuance of amassing something within the circle so formed.

Our noun κορος (koros) isn't used independently in the Bible, but it's part of the name Dioscuri, and from it derive:

Combined with the prefix επι (epi), meaning on or onto: the noun επικουρος (epikouros), which denotes auxiliary troops as opposed to the military force formed from πολιτης (polites), civilians. In other words: the elite army consisted of the "sons", and the επικουρος (epikouros) were the "for-the-sons" or "in addition to the sons". This word appears in the New Testament only as the name Epicurean, but from it in turn comes:

The noun επικουρια (epikouria), meaning help (from auxiliary, non-native troops). This noun occurs in ACTS 26:22 only, quite tellingly in Paul's declaration that God gave him epikouria, that's help from non-natives or gentiles."

As the Gemara says we must be able to appeal to others whom the Mormons and Republicans and King have harmed and rally; we must make big promises we can keep. The biggest of them all is the Mashiach, an era of lasting health and peace that touches every living thing on this planet. Our enemies are not promising this to anyone, that leaves this task to us.

That being said, it is time to set the record straight. Those fuckers have been raping and murdering and terrorizing Jews, Muslims, black people and gay people for decades with impunity and this time they blew it big time- they tunneled under israel and attacked Jewish people on sacred soil. They have to die because of it.

They aren't planning to help the poor or lost, reduce the temperature of bring love and belonging anywhere on this world. It is time to find the time, the energy and the will power, the space between the blue and white sky where the Magen David sits and execute the Torah.

The Values in Gematria are:

a. Matni' from Imaty Corinne heard Shema in the morning? Distinguishes between light blue and white. The Number is 4919, דט‎אט, "Data: If you are religious..."

b. Rabbi Eliezer says: Between Teklet and Kirti. And finished, up to the hot hawk, Rabbi Yehoshua says up to three hours, for it is the way of kings to stand for three hours. The Number is 10255, יבהה‎ ‎ ‎, "...she wondered?"

Do you know what Israel means? Why as a concept, a precept, a dictate and a nation it is the most important vitamin missing from our diet? Israel means "to surpass one's savage nature." We have not done this because man is inherently corrupt and has not chosen to be sentient instead.

Do you at last understand? Why things are going wrong all around this planet, and what will happen if we donot restore Israel to it? I have made an effective argument, it is time for all of us to die and to be reborn. Some of us will be reborn in the fires of hell but that is as it must be. The rest will be born blue and white, AKA yevzd, "footsteps, welfare, aid, charity, then feast."

Enough with the faith healing and the religion. Government is a science and a duty, we are failing at it and this world is going tilt. Perform the prescribed works and set it right.

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hd-fan-fair · 5 years ago

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THE MASTERLIST OF H/D SEX FAIR 2020 FANWORKS

View the full list on [AO3] or under the cut below!

( Fanwork posted in chronological order by type )

ART

1. How hard can it be? (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary:

Harry and Draco have to stay over at their friends' places for a few weeks, since the renovation of the Grimmauld Place hadn't been completed by the time they were back from their honeymoon. That creates a slight issue with being intimate but the newlyweds are nothing if not creative...

2. Revelio! (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

It's that time of year again for Witch Weekly's annual charity event! By popular demand, this year they have prepared a calendar featuring the sexiest studs in the Wizarding World. Gracing the cover in style, the Hogwarts staff is represented by none other than DADA Professor Harry Potter and Potions Professor Draco Malfoy. Grab one before they're gone! Reserve your copy by owl today!

3. Handling Dragons (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry brought over dragons to Hogwarts for a new Triwizard Tournament or for a class. Draco is hopelessly turned on by the resident Professor or Hogwarts Medic. Draco wants his dragon tickled by Harry. Unknown to him, Draco is the only dragon Harry wants to manhandle.

4. I plan on getting very wet. (Digital, Mature) Summary:

When they arrived at their private beach holiday, they didn't expect it to rain all the time. Oh well, boys can still find a way to have fun.

5. The Dragon's Boy (Digital Comic, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is chosen to be the next sacrifice to the dragon, but it turns out this dragon is interested in Harry for entirely different reasons.

6. The Art of Trust (Digital, Mature) Summary:

One piece of rope offers what Harry and Draco seek the most from each other.

7. (Intimidating) Brand New World (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary:

Draco's nervously perusing a sex shop for the first time when he sees a flash of dark hair across the store. He'd know it anywhere, but why is Potter here? And what on earth is in that box he's buying? Years of uptight parenting from his parents have left him woefully lacking in knowledge about his newfound interests. Potter's always been rather uncaring of public opinion, perhaps he could be the one to help Draco figure it all out...

ART & FIC

8. as much a light as a flame (6303, Explicit) Summary:

His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again.

His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it.

9. Starkissed (32631, Explicit) Summary:

“Your tattoos!” The intruder says, boldly stepping over Ron’s chaise and crossing in front of Hermione to get to Harry, eyes wide and hungry. Harry immediately sits up, pulling the towel draped across the back of his chair down over his shoulders. “No! Don’t cover them. They’re beautiful.” Harry hopes an indulgent trip abroad will help shake him out of the doldrums of his life. What he finds once he gets to Venice is more than he ever expected.

PODFIC

10. Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by bafflinghaze (1.5 Hours, Teen and Up) Summary:

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

But Harry doesn’t know any of this. So when he sees Malfoy in a shop of charmed necklaces, he immediately tries his best to uncover Malfoy’s machinations.

11. Things Worth Paying For (1.5 Hours, Explicit) Summary:

After leaving post-war Britain for Paris, Draco is finally happy, with friends and a job he loves, But then his newest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and everything changes.

FIC

12. Three Wishes (10161, Explicit) Summary:

Draco meets his fairy godmother and is granted three wishes. Unfortunately, they all keep coming back to the same thing.

********** Pop!

"Oh, wow," Vince says, and is that sarcasm Draco hears? "I never saw that coming."

"What?" Draco opens his eyes. He's prepared for the theatrics of the puffs of smoke—Vince, despite the sudden career change, was never blessed with an overactive imagination—but what he was not prepared for was the sight of Harry Potter, bare-chested and dressed in arseless chaps, his hands bound and mouth wrapped around a ball gag while lying face down on Draco's sofa.

13. H.A.G.S. (Hogwarts Alliance for Gender and Sexuality) (9517, Explicit) Summary:

When Hermione decides Hogwarts needs a LGBTQIA+ club, of course Ron and Harry are roped into helping. After a rocky start, Harry begins seeing the club as an opportunity to educate students and celebrate diversity and sexuality at Hogwarts. He also starts seeing it as an opportunity to snog Draco Malfoy.

14. You Don't Know Me (Like You Used To) (33106, Explicit) Summary:

"Buy me a drink as compensation for maiming me?" he asks.

"And why the hell would I do that?" It’s a perfectly valid question. A drink invitation from Harry Potter is about as likely of a scenario as me streaking down Piccadilly in broad daylight. Consider me completely thrown off.

Sometimes it only takes a week to change everything. The story of how twenty-five-year-old Draco Malfoy hit one Harry Potter with a door and knocked both of their lives into somewhere entirely new.

15. the best treasure is up Harry’s arse (2891, Explicit) Summary:

Harry and Draco probably had a tumultuous time getting together, filled with angst and denial and pining and brooding. However, this is not that story. Here, Draco makes Harry come (more than once).

16. Breakin' the Rules (3146, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry and Draco are Auror partners. They're in a relationship that they've been forced to keep secret due to relationships between Aurors being forbidden. Harry is okay with this, as he hasn't come out to anyone other than Draco, but after a mission goes awry, their relationship is exposed.

17. The HogShagMan (31685, Mature) Summary:

Professor Potter is called upon to teach the first-ever official course on Magical Sexual Relations at Hogwarts and, in the process, must navigate the pitfalls of relationship-building, the nefarious schemings of those entrusted with school funding, and the uneven tempers of his boss and several co-workers. Clearly, only ‘the’ Harry Potter can pull it all off.

18. Let's not wait for France (17714, Teen and Up) Summary:

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy.

An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw.

Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

19. Take All That You See (19666, Teen and Up) Summary:

Draco Malfoy has only two goals for his eighth year are Hogwarts: 1) stay as invisible as possible, and 2) get enough NEWTs to be accepted at a university abroad and get the hell out of the UK. Everything is going according to plan until he is unceremoniously outed by the Daily Prophet and subsequently disowned.

Finding himself the unexpected focus of unwanted attention and harassment, he is suddenly dependent on the good will and protection of the last people he would have expected — Harry Potter and his gang of do-gooder Gryffindors (plus Luna Lovegood). With his world turned upside down, how will Draco make it through the rest of the year? And worse still, as he grows closer and closer to Harry, how will he get out with his heart intact?

20. True Children Still (34240, Explicit) Summary:

After years of dancing around each other, Draco and Harry have finally begun to date, though they're taking things slow. They've got enough to figure out as it is, and the last thing Harry needs is an unexpected introduction to desires he's not quite ready to face.

21. Asking For A Friend? (13734, Explicit) Summary:

Asking for a friend? Don't be shy! I'm Genna Russ with advice! Draco Malfoy, drag queen and agony aunt for the Daily Prophet, is very happy with his life. He loves his job. He loves his drag queen persona. And he loves the fact that the wider Wizarding world doesn't know who is offering them sassy advice with their morning news.

When he starts receiving letters from one Harry Potter – letters that are too racy to publish – he does the only thing he can do: he replies. His carefully constructed secret life is at risk of being blown wide open, but he just can't help himself. Draco never did have any self-control where the Prat Who Lived was concerned.

22. All I Have to Do (9575, Explicit) Summary:

The Patented Daydream Charm (Adult Edition) allows you to enter a top-quality, highly realistic thirty-minute sexual fantasy. Solitude and privacy spells advised.

Or: Draco finally has some alone time; Harry just needs to nip in for a book.

23. Take My Wonder (3949, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter is the author of very well-written children's text books. Joshua Starkweather is the author of not-so-well-written erotic fiction. Only one person knows that they are one and the same.

24. (There Is Nothing) More Than This (5431, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter returns home past midnight, distressed and anxious about the multiple murder case that he is leading. His husband Draco looks after him, comforting Harry with his hands, his mouth and his unwavering love.

25. the space between (what you want and what you need) (13601, Mature) Summary:

As a specialist Healer in dark magic, Draco has had his fair share of difficult cases and awkward patients. Still, nothing has prepared him for a curse-paralysed Harry Potter.

26. Walk in the sun (18233, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is perfectly content with the life he built for himself; simple and private, it helps him heal the wounds from the war. He then accepts to go out with one of Neville’s acquaintances, never expecting that decision would bring him back to his obsession for Draco Malfoy.

“That was his cue. Had Harry stopped to think about his situation, he could have left. Malfoy was nibbling at his neck, he had his hand down his pants. All things considered, a disaster incoming. And yet, his feet still refused to move. After all, he was not the stop-to-think-of-consequences kind of guy.”

(Features drunken confessions, bathrooms, a lot of smut, sexy pictures, panties, cats and only one bed)

27. You Need to Just Do Whatever You Want (7998, General) Summary:

Draco's confused when he receives a manual explaining his magical inheritance. Being a veela would be good (at least he would be prettier), and a vampire would have been fine (another excuse to hide himself in the Manor). But a descendant of the God of Love, complete with arrows and a love quota? Now that's just bonkers.

A story in which Draco is Cupid (sort of).

28. Under my Skin (8258, Explicit) Summary:

One year after the war and after Hogwarts restorations, Harry is back at school to finally finish his education. He wasn't expecting McGonagall to assign him to protect Draco Malfoy, in case he was bullied during the classes. Although really just wants to relax on his last year in Hogwarts, he'd seen how Draco had changed at the trials. He knew being around him would be easy enough... Wouldn't it?

29. Glory, glory! (16898, Explicit) Summary:

It's 2005 and Harry has recently purchased a new mobile phone so he can easily keep in touch with his friends. Little did he know that the Muggle technology would lead him down a path of self discovery and safe exploration that would lead him into the soft recesses of the last person he ever expected. As it turns out, very good things can be found in the dark.

30. Husbandly Duties (2108, Explicit) Summary:

Draco and Harry leave their wedding after-party early for some quality one-on-one time.

31. Sex, Relationships & Love (3873, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy runs an anonymous sex advice column in the Witch Weekly magazine and gets hundreds of letters asking him for advice on sex, love and relationships. How was he to know that the advice he had given in response to one of those letters would result in Harry Potter showing up at his flat at 6 in the morning?

32. Disparate (6022, Teen and Up) Summary:

Ever since he went to Hogwarts, Draco realized that he wasn't quite the same as the others.

Or: Draco Malfoy over the years as he tries to understand and accept his sexuality.

33. Silver Scales in Pools of Green (26603, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is one of the last sirens of the seas, who escaped to the human world looking for friendship and food, but captivity found him instead. For seven years, he's gotten used to his life as human entertainment, and prides himself in his ability to make humans fall in step to his song.

That is, until everything falls apart when he has an audience with green eyes...

34. It's So Hard (9170, Explicit) Summary:

Draco has posed for some interesting photos, and it is currently making things very... hard for Harry.

35. On Your Shore (35113, Mature) Summary:

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too. But both the house and Draco Malfoy have secrets to uncover, and Harry might be in deeper water than he thought.

36. A Little Less Broken (6417, Mature) Summary:

After the war Draco thought he would never feel again. But a mix of revenge gone wrong and Harry Potter, might help him to feel just a little less broken.

37. Always (20147, Explicit) Summary:

In which Draco is the (in)famous erotica writer H.J. Belladonna, writing successful scandalous novel after successful scandalous novel and hiding his true identity, and Harry is questioning his sexuality after reading one of Belladonna’s books. Until ten years after the war their paths cross again, and Harry doesn’t only question his sexuality, but also the meaning of his obsession with Draco Malfoy.

“You look like something my cat dragged in,“ Blaise said from the sofa. Draco’s sofa, in Draco’s tiny flat. “You don’t have a cat, because you’re too vain, Blaise. A cat would get hair all over your expensive clothes,“ Draco replied and then ignored Blaise in favor of going into the kitchen to get some hot sweet tea into his system. Maybe that would make his day better, even if it had just started and the potential for disaster was high. Blaise followed him. “I’ll take one too.“ “You can’t use my home as your personal hotel, Blaise,“ Draco said, but he was already grabbing two cups out of the cupboard. He was too tired to use magic, after writing the whole night, he felt like all the magic had been absorbed by his parchment. Some of his sanity maybe too.

38. Absurd. (3773, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco discovers a kink that Harry's been hiding from him, he has no choice but to explore said kink, right? Right.

39. For Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door) (4333, Mature) Summary:

It’s hard enough to get five minutes to yourself in a house of five kids, nevermind getting five minutes with your boyfriend for anything else.

40. Let Out the Beast (9649, Explicit) Summary:

In the wizarding world where alphas are looked down upon for their lack of control and unseemly aggression, it is generally accepted that they are not allowed to work in places like schools and hospitals where their nature could risk the people there. When Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up at Hogwarts smelling strongly like an alpha, Harry is beyond baffled. The fact that no one else seems to catch his scent only adds to his confusion. But, of course, the most puzzling part is how Harry’s body reacts to that scent.

41. Flowers, Dildos and Other Courtship Gifts (15853, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry Potter is the Ministry's star auror trainee, and Draco Malfoy is the cute florist in Diagon Alley who Harry stares at through the window during lunch breaks and leaves. That's all they are and all they would ever be. (Really.) Until Harry accidentally mails Draco an autumn themed dildo (among others). Cue: bad planning, owl kidnapping, and flangst.

Or two emotional gay disasters fall in love in the middle of autumn.

42. he touched me, so I live to know (4729, Mature) Summary:

Five times Harry Potter is unsure about touching someone and one time he isn’t.

43. cut my name into your lip (6321, Explicit) Summary:

Harry can't take it anymore. Seriously. If Malfoy chews on the end of his quill/licks his spoon/sucks on the papercut on his finger one more time, Harry's going to put an end to it.

44. Realities, Unfurling (45487, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

45. The Delicate Balance of Light and Shade (13288, Explicit) Summary:

With the war finally over, Harry tries to find his own path in a world where he is free to make his own choice. On a holiday in France, he unexpectedly falls in love with art and painting. Returning to Hogwarts to help rebuild it, he is paired up with Draco Malfoy to restore the Room of Requirement - and unexpectedly falls in love with Draco. When the rebuilding efforts are done, Harry disappears.

Years later, Draco goes to Muggle London at Pansy's suggestion to visit an art gallery. The name of the Muggle artist is unknown to Draco, but the subject of the erotic paintings is shockingly familiar: it's Draco himself. It's time to confront the past and make some long-due confessions.

46. Tonight's the Night (Gonna Be Alright) (9181, Explicit) Summary:

Sex is hard to come by when you're 40 and have kids.

Or: Five times Harry and Draco tried and failed to have sex and one time they were successful.

47. The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance (6079, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is going to lose his virginity, so help him god, and he's going to lose it to one Harry Potter. Why? Because of his big cock, his status as The Top Five Quidditch Players in England, and Witch Weekly's Most-Eligible Bachelor for eight years straight. At least that's what he tells himself. Too bad first times rarely go as one plans, and now Harry is looking miserable and Draco doesn’t understand why.

48. you killed me on the moon (4906, Explicit) Summary:

'You barely know me. We do not know each other.’

‘Beyond this overwhelming need to submit to you, completely and utterly?’ Potter raises his eyebrows, stretching his scar. ‘Beyond this bone-deep awareness that you are made for me, and I for you? That our destiny was written in the stars, in the very foundation of our known world?’

An A/B/O Royalty!AU wherein a desperate Slytherin prince faces a proposal from the conquering Gryffindor king.

49. i just want your extra time and your... (9058, Explicit) Summary:

Ron should know better than to speak Latin in a magical library. If he’d just left well enough alone, instead of trying to badger Malfoy for the details of his newest novel, Harry wouldn’t have to listen to all of this chatter about how bloody decent Malfoy is, and he wouldn’t be dealing with all of these...feelings. Really, it’s all Ron’s fault that Harry’s mind is stuck on Malfoy like this again.

50. The Kisses Don’t Count, If No One Else Knows (41492, Explicit) Summary:

Minister for Magic Harry Potter does not love his job. The one bright point in his life is his secret relationship with Quidditch Super Star Draco Malfoy. When they're 'outed' by a peeping tom with a camera, Harry has to decide what's really important.

51. You Do Your Body Work, I Feel My Pulse Working Overtime (1627, Explicit) Summary:

Harry did not have an addiction to watching Draco masturbate on camera. He could stop any time he wanted to. Really.

52. Right Romantic Setting (6266, Explicit) Summary:

On the twelfth day of their romantic relationship, Draco and Harry take Albus, Scorpius and Rose on a weekend trip to Muggle London that Ron and Hermione were supposed to lead. At the fully-booked hotel where they'll be staying for the night, they're surprised to discover that their rather plain room has only one bed. It's definitely not the right romantic setting for their first night together but, as Draco comes to realise, there's good in taking things slow.

53. Portrait of a Marriage (130627, Mature) Summary:

Harry didn't want to marry Malfoy, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and Malfoy looked so smug and well - now they are married, and the house still doesn't like him, and Malfoy only looks more smug.

Draco didn't want to marry Potter, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and he never seems to be capable of escaping Potter anyway, so if he is already doomed to being married off he might as well decide for himself what he is worth, sign the papers and ignore everything wrong with that plan until physically no longer possible.

54. Regardless of desire, life hands you who you are (29803, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco finds himself wrongly accused – of course it's Potter who swoops in to save the day. Isn't it always Potter?

#hd sex fair #Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter #Harry Potter #drarry fic #drarry art #drarry podfic #drarry recs

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bloopme911 · 4 years ago

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Random WandaVision Thoughts

Thoughts about WandaVision I cannot get out of my head, so here you go.

SPOILERS AHEAD. BLOOP. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

1. Wanda and Vision are connected by the stone.

I went back and watched AOU and pretty much from the moment Vision is on screen, the connection between him and Wanda is obvious. Her reaction to him in particular struck me. She exhaled like she was drawn to him--to the stone. She also said she saw inside his mind before he was brought to life.

I believe they’re meant to be together, not only b/c of their chemistry together and compassion for one another, but also b/c of that mind stone. It gave him life and awakened her latent powers. It drew them to one another the moment they met. Vision himself even said in Civil War that he didn’t fully understand the stone, or how it works exactly; it’s a mystery to him. That stone is POWERFUL. It “speaks” to Vision, it “has a mind of it’s own”, it’s not a passive player, IMO.

...more after the kr...

2. Wanda can channel the powers of ALL of the stones in her chaos magic.

This I can’t claim credit for, but I believe it. I saw a theory on ScreenCrush (great YT channel for dummies like me to break things down) that Wanda can not only bend reality to her will, she can channel pretty much all the powers of the five stones. She demonstrates this in many ways -- bringing the butterflies and stork to life, rewinding the turkey until it turned into eggs, planting visions into Avengers heads, controlling the minds of the Sokovian citizens so they would evacuate the city in AOU, etc, etc, etc.

ScreenCrush theorizes that the stones are all connected, having sprung from the same fabric of the universe, their powers work alone but also together. Inside Wanda. If she concentrates, if she wills it, she can be just as powerful as Thanos was with that Infinity Gauntlet. So yeah, I believe she can trap a whole town under a spell and give Dr. Strange a run for his money across the multiverse, point blank periodt.

And if she can do that, could she not remake Vision? Pull his atoms back together, reform him, especially if she (somehow) got ahold of the copy Shuri made of his neural network? Why wouldn’t she bring Pietro back to life? I’m not sure...perhaps it could be that it’s simply too painful. Or perhaps she just doesn’t want to put her brother under a spell in a dream world. Vision is Vision, he can handle this, and she may not feel as bad resetting him when he gets too suspicious she might if she had to do that to her brother. I don’t know...time will tell, hopefully.

3. Wanda was an Avenger, training under Black Widow. She got rid of her accent intentionally.

I see people referencing her “suddenly disappearing” accent a lot. I think she (the character) did this on purpose. In the opening of Civil War, when her accent was first starting to fade, she was being taught to spy by Black Widow and Sam and the gang. It stands to reason that accents and speaking with what TV folks used to call a “non regional diction” or any accent she pleases would be part of that training.

Since this WandaVision is based on a sitcom reality, if you know how painstakingly they recreated these sitcom eras, plot tropes and all, then you’ll find that not only is Vision’s behavior based on the popular ‘TV Dads’ of each era (Dick Van Dyke, Mike Brady, Ricky Ricardo, etc) but Wanda was also mimicking the way TV wives speak and act during each era. Perfect 50s diction for Ep 1, slightly more relaxed like a Mary Tyler Moore in Ep 2, a bit more broad and (with a lot more physical comedy in her face, she’s so adorable) for the 70s.....the MCU didn’t forget about Wanda’s accent and Elizabeth Olsen isn’t being lazy.

Wanda deliberately got rid of her accent while she was a spy, and she slipped into it when she was thinking of her brother, her home, her childhood lullaby.

4. “Geraldine” a.k.a. Monica was casing Wanda’s house.

I noticed that from the moment Monica set foot inside, she covered a lot of ground. She found little ways to check that house out because she’s a trained agent and I think even though she was NAILING the part of the stereotypical 70′s black “foxy” nosy neighbor, she was 100% on a mission that whole time. She went in to get Wanda out, but the pregnancy obviously derailed that. I think she was waiting for an opportunity to gage when she could jog Wanda’s memory and probably also waiting to make sure Wanda would be at home alone before she stopped by.

She has “no home” in the town, Agnes said, but she is a SWORD trained agent, so she knew how to survive until she could make her move. Unfortunately, Wanda was not having it. She does not want to be saved. “Geraldine”/Monica also said during her crazy work story that she keeps her cool under pressure, which she did during that BONKERS delivery. She even gave Wanda the coaching she needed to get through it despite the house going all Poltergeist around her.

I only wish that when Wanda was questioning her, she would have been like “I’m Monica Rambeau, I’m here to rescue you.”

5. The townspeople have known all along about both Wanda and Vision’s powers, but they’re only terrified of Wanda.

Vision used his powers in front of people from day one. Helping Mr. Hart at dinner (notice how IMMEDIATELY after Vision saved him, they left in a hurry? They were terrified. They went there to act out a dinner, not for Mrs. Hart to watch her husband almost die without being able to break character to save him, and Mrs. Hart knew it was Wanda who could make it stop). Speed computing at the office. Obviously the magic show kinda sort doesn’t count but does b/c come on mirrors don’t work like that. Getting the doctor, etc. No, I think the townspeople know Wanda and Vision are Avengers, but there is nothing they can do about it because they are under a spell and they must carry out the FOR THE CHILDREN evil plot. I’ll bet word spread about Wanda choking Mr. Hard, so they def don’t want to piss off Wanda, nor bring the wrath of the nefarious entity controlling them all (most signs point to Mephisto).

6. Agnes’ witch costume reminds me that there are some tropes in media where evil witches are the wives of the devil (or sell their souls/enter a pact).

Obviously the Mephisto Comic story line sets this up, but I just love the way they executed it in the show, using the spouse that never appears on screen as a big fat clue.

Agnes may not be evil but she def wants Wanda to have children for her devil husband and she def does not want “Geraldine” disrupting that. Everyone else just seems straight up afraid of Wanda but Agnes knows who is really pulling the strings here. Agnes is terrified of the Big Bad, whereas the townsfolk fear Wanda b/c they know what she’s capable of. They may even believe Wanda is the one controlling them all--and she is--but Agnes knows who’s manipulating Wanda--Ralph, or Mephisto to us.

7. I get the strange impression that the sitcom credits start because Wanda is waking up for the day, and end because for her the day is over...

...and she’s done concentrating so hard on the sitcom spell. It’s sleep time for REAL-real. If she’s using magic to keep this stage play going constantly, then it stands to reason she will tire even though she’s pretending to live in sitcom world where time works totally differently. I believe the commercials are her dreams, sending her subconscious messages about her past traumas. I also believe dreams could be the way Mephisto called out to her--subconsciously drawing her to Westview.

Fun fact: TV way back in the day used to turn off at a certain time at night. 11pm or midnight, I can’t remember, but the networks STOPPED BROADCASTING at a certain time and there was no such things as 24-hour TV until like the late 80s.

There are waaaaaaaay more thoughts banging around in my head but this post is pretty long so until the next time I’m wide awake at 4am with the 70′s WandaVision theme song stuck in my head...

#wandavision #spoilers #random thoughts and theories

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officialleotolstoy · 4 years ago

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Oh Danatole Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Danatole playlist annotations!

I am NOT going apologize for making this. I’m not. But know I am feeling shame.

Nobody - Hozier

“I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave”

This is a bit of a best-case-scenario song, but I really feel like the vibes are encapsulated here. It’s got the energy of “i love you because we sin together and it’s fun” and also “I have a lot of lovers but lowkey.... you’re my fave 😳” which is, as I said, the best I could ever see them getting to.

Bad Decisions - Bastille

“So we’ll make the same mistakes til the morning breaks”

This song is about being idiots together and also knowing it’s not good for you which is the vibe. Also the refusal to have an Actual Relationship in “love me, leave me, rhythm of the evening” pops off. This song GETS that it’s a more casual thing but also weirdly important to them. Oh and “maybe this is where it ends” can be interpreted to be about the elopement plan if you want to stretch it.

Quarter Past Midnight - Bastille

“Good times, bad decisions”

“Let’s go be stupid together in public and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Glory - Bastille

“Passing the drink from hand to hand, we admit we really know nothing at all”

“Let’s go get drunk together in private and also maybe hold hands uwu”

Nocturnal Creatures - Bastille

“We’ve only got ourselves to blame, again and again and again”

The whole deal with this song is like. We’re in love kind of I guess but like only when in certain situations when our guard is down. Does that make sense?? It does in my head. And the idea of it being something stupid that they both keep coming back to despite being aware of it really fits. Disclaimer I’m not trying to suggest these two are Deeply In Love I’m just bad at wording things

Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco

“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you”

“You’re bad for me but we keep coming back to each other” vibes again. I don’t think Anatole is aware of how bad this actually is, he canonically has no idea he’s being manipulated, but I do think Dolokhov has a much better perspective on it. In my mind, Dolokhov really wishes he did not feel Anything for Anatole but. That is not working out the way he planned it, so a lot of these “why do I keep doing this :/“ songs are more from Dolokhov’s side than Anatole’s.

The Waves - Bastille

“Oh what would your mother say if she could see what we’re doing now?”

Look I added this for the Dolokhov’s mom jokes okay. That was the whole reason. I could very much see Anatole saying this exact thing to him.

Hell and You - Amigo the Devil

“Live with me in this sin forever”

Man the ENERGY of this song. The admittance and focus on them both being terrible people but enjoying being terrible together...yeah that’s them.

4am - Bastille

“You are my familiar”

The idea of just accepting something maybe not so great because it’s familiar which becomes easy which becomes fun...I very much think that’s how their relationship progressed, at least from Dolokhov’s end (You’re probably thinking “wow Wren, this playlist is super skewed toward Dolokhov’s feelings on the matter” and you’re right it’s because I hate Anatole 🥰). It’s definitely too forthcoming about actually enjoying the experience but oh well. Oh, and I stole a line from it for a fic once so it gets a permanent spot.

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

“You and me could write a bad romance”

It is objectively a bad romance, but the real reason this song is on here is that I always forget it is and it makes me laugh every time

It Will Come Back - Hozier

“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it”

Man Dolokhov really said ok I will manipulate this kid for a lil bit for money and then seven years later he’s helping him plan some illicit elopement for no personal gain huh. Life is crazy. Basically this song covers the “you were not intending for me to stick around but I’m a fixture of your life now!” thing. I wholeheartedly believe Dolokhov never planned to spend this much time with the Kuragins he just accidentally got attached.

Mamma Mia - ABBA

“You know you won’t be away too long”

It doesnt work super well but it makes me laugh okay!!! The concept of being bad for each other and not really working well but coming back to each other for some reason anyway is there.

No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

“No light in your bright blue eyes”

I heard the phrase bright blue eyes and smashed the add to playlist button, that’s it. But the more I listened to it the more I decided it could work post-elopement if you stretch it. “I’d do anything to make you stay” is obviously intended to be a romantic don’t-leave-me thing in the song but you can take it as the preparations scene if you really want. Not to suggest preparations is a romantic don’t-leave-me thing, that is very much not what I mean. “You cant choose what stays and what fades away” We all know Anatole wanted to flounce off with Natasha but in the end he was left eating dinner with Dolokhov 😔✌🏻 Dolokhov stayed and Natasha faded away hmmmm. Yes, purposely misinterpreting media is one of my favorite pastimes, why do you ask?

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody - Fergie

I don’t even have a lyric for this this is straight up just there for the hedonism/partying energy

We Are Young - fun.

“Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart”

This is mostly also just here for the friends/lovers at bars and parties living it up type beat. But the line “I know that I’m not all that you’ve got/I guess that I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart” bit does kinda hit. It’s by no means exclusive but they do kinda have fun yknow? Also the awareness that they are falling apart rather than doing anything worthwhile or loving is pretty fun.

Fine Line - Harry Styles

“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes”

Obviously Dolokhov would not admit to being devoted to Anatole, and I don’t think I can in good conscience say that he is, but I think he’s definitely more devoted than he wants to be. It’s more about the hate line anyway. I initially just added it because I was like oh it works as a fine line between love and...not love, but honestly some of the lyrics work pretty well. Now that I’m armed with the knowledge that Anatole’s name means sunrise, I can say “you sunshine, you temptress” fits too.

I Dare You - The Regrettes

“I never wanted to get too close to you but now it looks like I’m getting too close to you”

RIGHT OFF THE BAT this one gets it. That lyric is The Vibe. “You’re gonna fall but I’ll catch you” is reminiscent of Dolokhov helping Anatole get out of (and into) messes constantly, although in an ideal world it would be a lot more grudging. And not to harp on about this but “you’re the one that brings the sun” 🔈ANATOLE MEANS SUNRISE🔈

Nine in the Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco

“Your eyes are the size of the moon”

I did warn you guys there would be several songs on here that are only there because they mention eyes, right? I definitely said that somewhere. I am going to use Dolokhov’s bright blue orbs for my nefarious Danatole playlist purposes and there’s nothing you can do about it. “You could cause you can so you do” does encapsulate Anatole’s thought process pretty well though, I think.

The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy

“Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme”

Not Dolokhov constantly using Anatole for money 🙄✋🏻 MLM in more ways than one. But also the idea of falling for someone being a kind of defeat works well. Admit you like him, Dolokhov. I dare you.

Bromance - Chester See & Ryan Higa

“Bromance, nothing really gay about it”

Historians will say they were roommates. I’m sorry this song just makes me laugh and I refuse to remove it.

Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco

“You fooled me once with your eyes now, honey, you fooled me twice with your lies”

Rhyming eyes with lies is peak Dolokhovcore! And the “Sarah doesn’t care, she lives in her world so unaware” is Anatolecore because he’s stupid. The bit about “my destiny lies with her” or whatever is irrelevant ignore that.

Fred Astaire - Jukebox the Ghost

“Those eyes, they get me every time”

The entire rest of this song is someone being blind to the other person’s flaws and initially I was like wow this doesn’t work at all and then I realized it could be stretched to mean Anatole being super oblivious to Dolokhov’s manipulation. But when it comes down to it, it’s about the eye lyric.

I Don’t Know Why I Like You But I Do - The Wombats

The title says it all. Literally that’s the whole explanation.

Daft Pretty Boys - Bad Suns

“I don’t like you, you look so pretty from afar”

If you don’t think Dolokhov calls Anatole a pretty boy (derogatory) you’re so wrong and I cannot help you. That was why I added it but the vibes of “you’re hot but wow your personality is terrible and I hate you” are there so. Enjoy! Oh and the bit about wasting your time works too, I can think of like sixty three better things off the top of my head Dolokhov could be doing than hanging out with Anatole, including but not limited to stapling his own fingers together and arson.

Rich Friends - Portugal. The Man

“I could really really really use a rich rich friend like you”

Do I HAVE to explain this one? I also like “Hey man I’m cool to lean on but I’m not your property” for them, if you stretch it it gets across the way Anatole thinks Dolokhov is His Friend but in reality. He’s using him HDHHSHDHDHBS Also the chorus has hedonism vibes, which ALWAYS works with these two.

#why do i insist on shaming myself for this ship. idk #war and peace #fedya dolokhov #anatole kuragin #my post #w&p playlists #rat hours #danatole

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gyakutengagotoku · 5 years ago

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GS4 vs AJ:AA - Episode 2, Part 5

Here’s the last court segment of this episode! It’s also relatively shorter than the usual posts, but there’s a lot of dialogue I captured for context, so it doesn’t look shorter. There’s not too much deviation between the source and localized after we covered all the changes made to the Kitaki’s previously.

For once I started earlier today and got through it pretty quickly, but for the sake of a consistent posting schedule, I’ll stick with around midnight PST every other day or so. Seems like the best rhythm for me that I can keep up with.

> Court Lobby

６月１７日　午前　９時５２分地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 9:52 AM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> いよいよ、ですね！ゆうべはよく眠れましたか？ This is it, the big day! Did you get any sleep?

<Apollo> あ。うん。ゆうべ、１時にはフトンに入ったから。 Yeah, I went to bed at 1:00 AM or so.

<Trucy> で？　今日は何時に起きたんですか？ Oh? What time did you wake up?

<Apollo> 午前３時、かな。 ...3:00 AM.

<Trucy> ‥‥ゼンゼン眠れてませんね。 That's only two hours, Apollo...

でも、大丈夫。みぬきがついてるし。 But, at least you have me!

<Trucy> ボウシくんだって、いつも見てますよ。 ...And the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> いつも見てますよ、キミ。 Here's looking at you, kid.

Originally: "Yes, I'm always keeping an eye on you." (It's supposed to sound supportive, I swear.)

<Trucy> ね。パパ！　今日は、どんな証人を用意してるの？　ガリュー検事！ Daddy! Do you know who Prosecutor Gavin's witness is today?

<Phoenix> さあね。当ててごらん。 Take a guess!

<Trucy> んーとね。小梅さんとか！ Hmm... How about Little Plum?

<Phoenix> あっはっはっ。キモっ玉かあさんか。ハズレだよ。 Ah ha ha! That Sherman tank of a mom? Nope, guess again.

<Trucy> うーん、ザンネン。でも。みぬき、思うな。 That's too bad. You know, speaking of moms...

パパも、早く新しいママ、見つけないと！ You need to find me a new mommy one of these days, Daddy!

<Phoenix> お。コイツは朝からイッポン取られちまったな。 It's barely morning and you're at it already, Trucy!

あっはっはっはっは。 Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

<Apollo> （だから、ウソっぽいんだよなあ、　この親子） (OK, see, this is why I don't buy their "father-daughter" relationship.)

I commented previously that Apollo questioned their father-daughter relationship and legitimately forgot that he also says this, and this time it does match what he originally said. So, my bad.

Also, Naruhodou describes her as "キモっ玉" (kimottama), meaning she got "guts" or "pluck" to her. I appreciate the "Sherman tank", though.

> Courtroom

<Judge> 少なくとも、ハッキリわかったことは‥‥ We did find out one thing for certain.

事件が起こったとき。やはり公園には、被告人と被害者、 There were three people in the park at the time of the murder:

‥‥そして目撃者の３人しかいなかった、というコトです。 The witness, the victim, and the defendant.

<Klavier> ‥‥そういうコト。そこで、今日は‥‥ ...Correct, Herr Judge. And today, I'd like to do something a little new age.

あのザンネンな事件を、外側から見てみようと思ってるんだ。 I'd like to look at this horrible crime... from the outside.

<Apollo> “ソトガワ”‥‥ですか？ The "outside"...?

<Klavier> “凶器の入手経路”‥‥ “犯行準備”‥‥ The acquisition of the murder weapon... The preparation for the act...

被告人クン。ウカツにもゼンブ、しゃべっていたんだよ。 Our poor defendant told all, you see.

‥‥フィアンセにね。 ...To his betrothed.

<Judge> ふぃあんせ‥‥？ His... bee trove?

<Klavier> ‥‥婚約者さ。人生の共犯者ってヤツかな。 ...His fiancée, Herr Judge. His partner for life... with no chance for parole.

<Judge> それでは、その‥‥ いいなずけを入廷させてください！ Very well, you may show the erm... "lucky" lady to the stand.

Once again, the judge struggles with words outside of his language, and Kyouya, being the resident English expert, has to explain. That being said, "bee trove" is suspiciously apt as a metaphor to describe her...

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ、キミ。名前と、職業を。 ...Your name and occupation, Fräulein.

<Alita> 並奈　美波と申します。今は、花嫁修行中というか‥‥ Alita Tiala. My occupation... is future wife.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ いいココロがけです。 Ah, traditional values! I respect that.

最近は、温泉タマゴすら作れないムスメさんも多いですからな。 Too many brides these days can't even weave baskets blindfolded... underwater.

しかし‥‥今日は、検察側の証人として出廷したわけですな？ Yet you're here today as a witness for the prosecution?

<Alita> わたし‥‥最初は、証言したくありませんでした。 To be honest, I didn't want to testify at first.

でも、やっぱり。かくしておくことはできなくて。 But... I couldn't hide the truth.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥やはり、リッパなココロがけです。 Hmm. Honesty! Another admirable trait.

Originally, his "underwater blindfolded basket weaving" standards were about soft-boiling eggs so that the yolk hardens while the white remains soft. They're called "onsen tamago" because these eggs were traditionally cooked in a hot spring, but can be cooked in any ol' pot between 70-80°C (158-176°F). It's one of those old-timey signs that a soon-to-be-wed would be a good wife because she could cook. Now, the only time I'd ever see these eggs is when I don't boil them hotly enough.

On that note, nowadays there are underwater basket weaving Olympics. Thanks, Rio 2016. Maybe Tokyo 2020 (2021?) could include a special event category for egg-boiling.

> 1st Witness Testimony, press 3rd statement

<Alita> ちゃんと管理されてる��ら、フツウの組員じゃムリだと思います。 Not really, I think. There's a system in place to limit access.

でもね。滝太クンはトクベツ。なんたって。アトトリ息子ですから。 But Wocky's a special case, being the next-in-line.

<Klavier> 少し、甘やかされていたところはあったんじゃないかな。 Perhaps his treatment was a bit too special, ja?

<Alita> たしかに、“おぼっちゃん”なトコロはあったかもしれません。 Well, maybe he is a bit spoiled...

誕生日に、スゴいプレゼントをもらったって話もきいてるし。 I hear he got amazing presents for his birthdays.

ガムでできた“ドス”とか、チョコレートの“花札”とか。 Last year was a switchblade made out of chewing gum and a chocolate gravestone!

<Apollo> （アブナイものが好きなのか、　アマいものが好きなのか‥‥） (Sounds like he has a taste for sweets... and danger.)

Originally, they were a rubber dosu and a chocolate hanafuda card. Danger AND gambling, but the kid-friendly kind!

Though, I can accept "chewing-gum switchblade" here because "ガム" (gamu) can also mean that kind of gum or the gum material of rubber.

> Press 5th statement, present Alita, present chart or sandals

<Judge> ちょっと待ちなさい！ Ms. Tiala!

あなたは“被害者とはなんの関係もない”と証言しています！ You testified that you had no connection to the victim!

<Alita> なんの関係もないわよ。 ‥‥今となっては、もう。 And I don't. Now.

<Apollo> 今となっては‥‥？ "Now"...?

<Alita> だって。半年前に、やめたんだから。もう、無関係でしょ。 I quit half a year ago, didn't I? So there's no connection.

‥‥アナタたち、もしかして。 Let me guess, you're the kind of guy...

コイビトのムカシのコト、ぜんぶ聞かないと気がすまないタイプの、 ...who can't rest until he knows every last detail of his girlfriend's past.

ちっぽけなオトコ、なのかしら？ Am I right?

<Judge> そんなコトはないですぞ！私は、その。 Th-That's not true at all! Why, I...

愛しいヒトの、ちょっとした過去もまとめて抱きしめるタイプの、イキ I embrace the ones I love, past flaws and all, no matte--

<Objection!>

<Apollo> “今はもう”無関係‥‥ それは、通らないんですよ。 "There's no connection now" doesn't fly in a court of law.

<Alita> ‥‥どういうこと、かしら？ Doesn't... fly?

<Apollo> （さすが、キモっ玉が座っている） (She's one tough nut.)

（キタキツネ一家にヨメ入りしよう　とするだけのコトはあるな） (She probably feels right at home with the Kitakis!)

Fyi, the judge responded here because she called them all out, not just the defense.

And yep, here it is again: "キモっ玉". So, a Sherman-tank mom and a tough-nut fiancée; no wonder she fits right in. (I still think "bee trove" is more apt, though.)

> Present more evidence to tie her in but present wrongly

<Judge> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ そうですね。私としては ... Well, I suppose I could see--

<Objection!>

<Klavier> おデコくん。キミのたぐっている糸は、真実につながってない‥‥ Herr Forehead. This trail you think you have found, it doesn't lead to the truth.

ついでに、キミの弁護士生命も断ち切ってあげようか？ Nor to a long career in the legal profession, ja?

<Apollo> け、けっこうです。 Gee, thanks.

<Klavier> じゃあ、かわりに。いつものヤツ、やらせてくれるかな。 Perhaps you will allow me to do the honors?

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ まあ。たまには、よいでしょう。 Hmm... Why not? It might be nice for a change.

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ。遠慮なく。Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　Ｒｏｃｋ！ Most excellent... Let's rock!

<Apollo> （なんだか‥‥ 　いつもの何倍もクヤシイ） (I'll take the usual penalty next time, thanks.)

<Judge> それでは、弁護人！　もう一度提示していただきましょう。 Very well, Mr. Justice. Try again.

Look, guys, the JP script does have English letters and it has them for a good reason. Kudos to the loc team for that most excellent reference too.

> 2nd Witness Testimony, present medical chart at 4th statement, Perceive at new (6th) statement, present wrong evidence about the "threat"

<Alita> ‥‥その証拠品が、どうかした？ ...Because of what?

<Apollo> え‥‥ Um...

<Alita> アナタ。目はいいかもしれないケド。アタマはクモの巣が張ってるみたい。 The eyes of a hawk... and the brain of a toad.

<Apollo> （‥‥ここで引っこむ　ワケにはいかない！） (Ribbit! I mean, ack! I can't lose this now!)

（アタマのクモの巣を払え！　もう一度だッ！） (C'mon toad brain, one more try!)

Originally, the metaphor was "brain full of cobwebs". So Odoroki tries dusting his attic.

> Press newer (7th) statement

<Apollo> その証言の“ウソ”は、さっき見抜いたじゃないですか！ We already know you're lying about having no reason!

<Alita> わかってるわよ！エラそうに言わないで！ I know you know! Don't look at me like that!

<Apollo> え‥‥‥ Huh...?

<Alita> ヒトをトンでもない目つきでニラんでくれちゃってさ。 Like I'm some two-bit washed up good-for-nothing...

コワかったじゃないの！ You scared me!

<Klavier> ‥‥たしかにね。 ...I concur.

ぼくですら、そこまでアツい目で見つめられたことはないよ。 Even I am rarely treated to such a... hot gaze.

<Apollo> す。すみません‥‥ S-Sorry...

（‥‥そうとうスゴいカオを　さらしているらしいな、オレ） (Maybe I need to do some face training, too...)

"Hot gaze"... Yeah, sounds about right.

Last line was simply: "(...I guess I made quite the face at her.)"

> Present bullet in safe

<Judge> まさか！　それでは、その財産を狙って、その。婚約をしたと‥‥ Nefarious! So she planned to marry him just to get her hands on this fortune?

<Objection!>

<Wocky> イイカゲンなコトを言い散らかしやがってェ‥‥ You keep talking trash about my Alita...

訴えてやるぞッ！このクサレ弁護士がァッ！ ...and I'll sue you, lawyer-man!

<Apollo> ‥‥えッ！　お、オレですか！ ...Huh? Me!?

<Wocky> アンタ、今、言ったな‥‥ Yeah! You said...

オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ You said you'd... You'd...

コクハクするとッ！ You'd abuse my Alita!

<Apollo> いやいやいや！ “コクハツ”ですよッ！ Um, I think you mean "accuse"...!

<Wocky> おんなじコトだッ！みなみちゃんはわたさんぞッ！ Same difference! Well you can't have her! She's mine!

It was "kokuhaku" (confess, usu. love to someone) vs "kokuhatsu" (accuse).

<Alita> ‥‥滝太クンさあ。 ...Wocky.

イイカゲン、現実と向かい合いなさいって。 Wake up and smell reality!

<Wocky> み‥‥ミナミちゃん‥‥？ A... Alita-baby?

<Alita> カルテのサイン‥‥ 退院を待って、婚約‥‥ The signature on the chart, the engagement...

わかるでしょ？　フツー。 I mean, come on! It's so obvious.

いくら、頭のカラッポなお坊ちゃんでも。 Even for a brainless, spoiled brat such as yourself.

<Wocky> みなみちゃん‥‥ Alita...

<Klavier> どうやら‥‥ホンネが聞けそうだね。おじょうさん。 Your honesty is like a breath of foul air, Fräulein.

<Alita> まあ‥‥このぶんじゃ、ね。無傷じゃア、済みそうもないし。 Hey, I wasn't getting out of this clean, anyway.

I think I'd prefer if Klavier here used a sound-based metaphor given how his entire character design is based on music. In the JP, he also used a sound metaphor: "It seems... we now hear your true voice, young lady."

Granted, "honne" also just means "true nature", but I like the hidden pun there.

> 3rd Witness Testimony, press 5th statement, point out "another place", point anywhere within the area of attention (double penalty)

<Apollo> 犯人が被害者を撃ったのは、このポイントです！ This is where the killer shot from!

<Judge> そこから、被害者の右のコメカミが撃てないのは、立証済みです。 But then the killer couldn't have shot his right temple.

<Klavier> ボケるには早すぎるよ。おジイさんじゃないんだから。 So young, and already senile. How unfortunate...

<Judge> 私はボケておりませんぞ！ I'll have you know I'm not senile!

事件が起こった日の朝、何を食べたか、ハッキリと‥‥ Why I remember exactly what I ate the morning of the crime!

‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ..............................

<Judge> とにかくッ！　ペナルティを与えます！ Ahem! Penalty!

<Apollo> （‥‥ズルいや） (...No fair.)

<Klavier> それじゃあ。もう一度指摘してもらおうかな。 You seem intent on digging your own grave. Here, have a shovel and try again.

Odoroki suddenly dropping in Kansai accent out of the blue caught me off-guard. (It's his last line here.) Man was so devastated by that double penalty he got sent out west.

10/21/20 edit: Whoops, my bad. That wasn’t Kansai accent and wouldn’t have made sense if it was. He’s just sighing to himself, really, and I mistook that last ‘ya’ as a copula.

> Point to noodle stand, present slippers & bowls

<Judge> わかっていると思いますが。現在、この法廷で‥‥ I would like to remind the witness of her current status.

あなたを完全な“潔白”と考えている人間は、おりません。 This court does not consider you entirely innocent.

<Alita> ‥‥完全にまっ白な人間はおとぎ話の中に住んでるものよ。 Show me an innocent... I'll show you a fairy tale.

<Judge> ‥‥とにかく。 ...In any case.

いつのまにか、弁護側は提示してしまったようです。 The defense has, somehow, made its point.

この証人に、宇狩院長を殺害する動機とチャンスがあったことを。 The witness had both a motive and an opportunity to kill Dr. Meraktis.

<Alita> そんな不条理な“逆転”‥‥ おとぎ話でもお目にかかれないわね。 More fairy tales! This whole trial is a fairy tale!

<Judge> 最後に、一度だけ。あなたに説明のチャンスを与えます。 Then please, pull us back down to reality, Ms. Tiala.

証言をおねがいしましょう。 I'm giving you one last chance to explain yourself.

Her last line here: "An absurd 'turnabout' like that... wouldn't even be seen in fairy tales!"

> 4th Witness Testimony, Perceive at 5th statement, point wrongly

<Apollo> 美波さん。‥‥そこだッ！ ...Gotcha, Ms. Tiala!!!

<Alita> 聞こえてるわよ。大きな声で２回も言わなくても。 I heard you just fine the first time.

なに？　ゴキブリでも出たの？ What, I wasn't aware we were playing paintball.

<Apollo> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ......

<Trucy> きわめて冷静ですね。 ‥‥みなみさん。 She's one cool cucumber, that Alita.

<Apollo> （‥‥どうやら、　ややハズしたみたいだな） (...Hmm. Maybe I spotted the wrong spot.)

Originally, she suggested "Cockroach", which iirc is a playground game with a mix of "Hide'n'Seek" and "Tag". For some reason, I'm struggling to find a source online for this, but I swear I remember looking it up before...

10/21/20 edit: Welp, I guess I was overthinking it. She just asks him if he spotted something icky like a cockroach.

> Point correctly, present lamp

<Judge> それでは！　この証人に対する尋問を終了いたします！ Very well! This finishes the cross-examination of this...

<Objection!>

<Klavier> クッ‥‥クックックッ‥‥ Heh. Heh heh heh.

何を言ってるのかな‥‥ アツいギグは、これからなのに。 Not so fast. This party's just getting started!

Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　ｒｏｃｋ，ｇｕｙｓ！ Now, we rock!

<Apollo> ど。どういうコトですかッ！ W-What!?

<Klavier> やはり‥‥ 弁護士というのは、ツメがアマい。 Those spikes on your head are softer than they look...

なぜ、最後までジジツを追求しようとしないんだい？ Or do you not have the stomach to go all the way?

...Come on, loc team, you had one job and you were doing so well with it up to here. At least dress up that "Now, we rock!" a bit with some German or Eurorock flair.

> Present bowls in clinic again or noodle stand, point out the river

<Apollo> そ。そうか‥‥！ Th-That's right...!

事件の起こった、あの晩。成歩堂さんをハネ飛ばしたのは‥‥ That night, the car that hit Mr. Wright...

宇狩　輝夫のクルマ、だった‥‥ ...was that green sports car!

<Judge> な‥‥なんですと！ Oh, yes! I-I'd nearly forgotten about it!

<Klavier> その後、ガレージに戻ったのだから、クルマには、故障はなかったんだ。 Afterward, he drove it back to that garage. It ran fine.

<Alita> ‥‥そのとおり。それなのに‥‥ ...That's right.

その、自慢のクルマを使わないハズがないでしょ？ So why didn't he use his beloved sports car, hmm?

<Apollo> ぐ‥‥ッ！ Urk...!

<Klavier> このムジュンが、キレイに説明できないかぎり‥‥ A glaring contradiction, to be sure.

きみのスイリは成立しないのさ。 ‥‥おデコくん！ More glaring than your forehead.

<Apollo> そ‥‥‥そんなあああああああッ！ No... Nooooooooooo!

The first time I played this part, I found it a lot funnier than I should have because I thought Apollo was screaming about how his forehead was so "glaring".

That's it. I just wanted to share. The JP lines are just the usual "With that contradiction gone, your conjecture won't stand... Odeko-kun!"

> Select "He couldn't use the car", present Magic Panties

<Apollo> そして、オレはきのう。そのときは気がつかなかったケド‥‥ By the way, I learned something yesterday...

ものすごく重要な“情報”を聞いていたんです。 ...A very important piece of information.

‥‥そう！牙琉検事。あなたからね！ ...And I learned it from you, Prosecutor Gavin!

<Trucy> あの！　捜査ですか？ Um, so you were here investigating?

<Klavier> まあね。帰ろうと思ったんだが‥‥ バイクがイカれちゃってね。 And I was on my way home... when my hog gave up the ghost.

<Apollo> バイクが‥‥？ Your hog...?

<Klavier> エンジンがかからないんだ。排気パイプがつまっちゃって。 My motorcycle won't start. A clogged exhaust pipe...

<Trucy> へえ！高そうなオートバイなのに、 Too bad! It looks like such a nice bike, too.

そんなコトでこわれちゃうんですか？ Hard to believe that it could break just from that!

<Klavier> クルマもバイクもいっしょさ。どんな理由であれ‥‥ Cars, motorbikes, they're all the same.

排気パイプをふさがれると、エンジンがかからなくなる。 Clog the exhaust, and they won't run.

<Alita> エンジンが‥‥かからない‥‥ My, how interesting.

"My, how interesting", indeed. It sounds so out of place that I wonder if this was supposed to be a temporary line that they decided to keep in the final draft. For reference, it was just "The engine... was clogged...!?"

> Court Lobby

同日　午後　４時１２分地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 4:12 PM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> やりましたね！　オドロキさん！おめでとうございます！ Great job, Apollo! You did it!

<Apollo> ああ、やったな！ ‥‥なんとか、ね。 Yeah, we did, somehow...

<Trucy> 滝太さんも、無罪になって‥‥ Wocky's off the hook...

キレイな身体で極道の世界へ羽ばたいていくんですねー。 ...free to become the gangster he's always wanted to be!

きっと、オドロキさんにカンシャして‥‥ And he has you to thank...

<???> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ Hey! Attorney-man!

<Wocky> よくも！　よくもオレの！よくもオレのミナミちゃんをッ！ You're gonna pay for what you did to my Alita, homes!

<Trucy> ‥‥まったく、カンシャされてないみたいですね。 ...Or to blame, I guess.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ You give my Alita back!

返してくれよ！オレのミナミちゃんをよおおおお！ Stupid pointy-head attorney with a death-wish!

Ahaha, the full list of punk swears. I wonder if the loc team had the choice to use even more colorful words here, what would they have come up with? I mean, sure, Wocky is super childish in a way, but he totes would be that one kid in CoD screaming expletives and something about Apollo's mom.

<???> コラッ！　滝太ッ！ Enough, Wocky!

<Apollo> あ！　常勝さん‥‥ Ah! Mr. Kitaki...

<BigWins> ‥‥滝太。いいかげんに、目を覚ましたらどうなのだ。 ...It's high time you opened your eyes, Wocky.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ What do you know, old man!

目を覚ますのはキサマの方だろうが！ I think it's 'bout time you opened yours!

極道のミチ踏みはずして、カネ儲けに走りやがって！ Givin' up the life, tryin' to become some kinda businessman!

<BigWins> 滝太ッ！　オマエはなにもわかっとらんのだッ！ Don't talk about what you don't understand, Wocky!

<Trucy> ‥‥そのうち、つまみ出されますね。この調子だと。 ...I'm afraid the guard is going to throw them both out.

<Apollo> めんどくさい親子だな、マッタク。 ...If not in jail. Wouldn't that be a happy ending.

And then he'd throw the same kind of insults at his dad too, but with less about moms, I'd hope.

<BigWins> オマエをこんな目にあわせたのは、極道という生き方のせいだ。 It was the gangster life that did this to you, Wocky.

‥‥オマエを助けたい。キレイなカネで‥‥な。 ...I want to help you, and I want to do it clean.

わかってくれないか。 ‥‥滝太。 Please understand. Wocky...

<Wocky> オ、オヤジ‥‥ D-Dad...

ば。バカにしやがって‥‥ いつも‥‥いつも、こうだッ！ M-Man, I see how it is, old man! Always you looking out for... out for...

<Trucy> た。滝太さん‥‥？ Wocky...?

<Wocky> いいか、くそオヤジ！オレだって。オレだってなあ！ Listen good, old man! One day... One day...

いつか、きっと！キサマをケリオトしてやるんだ！ I'm gonna take you out! Then we'll see who's the O.G.!

どこの世界に逃げてもな！クビを洗って待っておけッ！ You try to hide in your business suit, I'll find you!

テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ Stupid ol' geezer!

<Trucy> あ！　‥‥滝太さん！ My! Wocky!

<BigWins> ‥‥コレでいいのです。 ...No, it's as it should be.

<Apollo> オヤジさん！（その目で見つめないでほしいな） Mr. Kitaki! (I liked him more without the puppy dog eyes.)

...Wocky, ya big tsundere. I love this father-son relationship.

And it's contagious. Even Odoroki here is calling him "Oyaji-san" after all the times he was polite.

<BigWins> アンタたちに会えてよかった。 ‥‥ワシは、コトバがニガテです。 I'm glad... to have met you. I'm not so good with words...

やはり。プロに任せるものだね。 But I know a professional job when I see one. Thank you.

<Apollo> そ。そんな‥‥ Who? Me? I don't think...

<BigWins> ‥‥いつか‥‥ Someday...

新製品・《キタキツネもなか》を持って、お礼にうかがうとしよう。 I'll bake you one of our latest... The Kitaki Lime Pie.

<Apollo> （‥‥お菓子屋さんにでも　落ち着くつもりなのかな） (...He's opening a pie shop!?)

Not just a pie shop; all the sweets you could find, with their specialty "Kitakitsune Wafer"! Technically, it's monaka, which is a wafer cake usually filled with asuki bean jam. It's also among the things you can see in the credits (exclusive to the JP version, anyway) when we see this happy family again.

<Trucy> あ！　そうだ。帰る前に、行かないと！ Oh, that's right! We have to go someplace first!

<Apollo> え？　‥‥どこに？ Huh? Where?

<Trucy> “報酬”ですよ！ムギツラさんの！ Why, to claim our reward from Mr. Eldoon!

<Apollo> ‥‥ああ。しょっぱいラーメンか。もう、屋台は戻ったのかな？ ...Ah, salty noodles. Right. He got his stand back already?

<Trucy> そのあとは、みぬきのステージも見に来るんですからね！ Oh, and after that, you can come see my show!

ぼうしクンスペシャル。みぬきからの“報酬”です！ With a special appearance by the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> じつはコレ、めったにやりません。 Oh, it's special alright!

<Apollo> ‥‥だから、もういいよ。それ‥‥ Please... anything but him.

Originally the gentleman said: "It is going to be a rare sight, indeed."

Next up, the most infamous episode of this game for its unintentional earworm... Though honestly, I never really found it all that bad. That said, thank goodness SoJ had a skip button for certain scenes, even if I didn’t mind watching them over and over anyway.

#gsvsaa #gs4 #ajaa #turnabout corner #part 5

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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 6 years ago

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Ok. So I did something. I completed this fic last month but there were some scenes that I couldn’t stop thinking about, that I’d outlined but had not completely written out. So I ended up writing them out as one shots, just to get them out of my brain. I had such a good time being back in this AU I decided to go ahead and post this to share it with you. So here’s the “deleted scene” of Baz convincing Simon to move into his flat. My thanks to all of you who have been so supportive and encouraging about this fic!

Chapter 17

Baz

I pick up Simon directly from the care home.

He’s pleasantly disheveled. Shirt untucked. Bronze curls drooping over his forehead. A bright spot of paint on his cheek that I can imagine licking off.

Fuck. Where did that thought come from?

Simon slides into the passenger seat and his bright grin brings a flare of heat to my chest. He’s the sun and I can’t keep myself from crashing into him.

I’m leaning towards him before I even think it through and he meets me halfway over the center console, lips sliding against my own, his breath sighing against my skin.

Fingertips trail heat along my jaw as he pulls back and that stray spot of paint folds into one of his dimples as he smiles at me. “Where are we going? You didn’t say.”

“Thought we’d head to your place. Let you get changed.”

“Being mysterious, are we?”

I arch a brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know my nefarious plans for you, Snow?”

Simon shoves my arm. “Shut up, you barmy git. It’s only nefarious if you don’t plan on taking me out to eat. I’m starved.”

“You’re always starved, Simon.” I regret the words the minute they come out of my mouth. Because they’re true. They always have been true, but I know the background far better now than I did at Watford.

I know why he was always so painfully thin at the start of term. Why he’d be the first in the dining hall and the last to leave. Why it took weeks for him to fill out again, to lose the gauntness that haunted him in the early days of autumn.

Fucking care homes.

The touch of his hand on my forearm brings me back to the present. “You’re right, I am.” His fingers squeeze through the fabric of my coat. “Stop thinking so hard, Baz.” Simon pats his stomach with his other hand and laughs. “I’ve gained enough weight these past few weeks I should probably back off the snacks a bit. I’ll not fit in my clothes and I can’t be wearing trackies to work all the time.”

I let out the breath I’ve been holding. It comes so effortlessly to him, setting others at ease. Setting me at ease

We drive in silence, Simon’s hand still resting lightly on my forearm. I shift gears and navigate through the busy traffic to get to his flat.

I’ve spent the afternoon at my place. I tidied up the spare room, made it look more like a bedroom and less like an office. The desk is clean. The bed is made. The wardrobe has ample space and the contents of the chest of drawers have been parceled out to other locations.

There are two large, empty suitcases stashed away in the boot of my car. The backseat of the Jag should accommodate the rest of his meagre belongings.

I’ve not been sleeping well since we’ve come back. The time change is the likeliest culprit but my looming departure isn’t helping matters any.

Neither is Simon’s living situation.

I’d spent half the night pacing in my room, formulating this plan and rehearsing the words to convince him to agree to it. I still don’t know if he will. If Simon Snow is anything, it’s stubborn.

I miraculously find a parking spot near his building again. That in itself says more about the dodginess of this neighbourhood than the boarded-up buildings or piles of rubbish by the bins.

Simon’s already on his way to the front door when he realizes I’m not following. I’ve flipped the boot open and I’m hauling out the two large cases I retrieved from storage earlier today.

“What’re you doing? Moving in?” He looks amused but puzzled.

Here we go.

“Moving you out.”

“What?”

“I’m moving you out of here.”

“You most certainly are not.”

“Can we discuss this upstairs please, Simon? Preferably while we pack?”

“You can’t be serious, Baz.”

I slam the boot of the car shut and extend the handles of the suitcases, bumping them along the cracked sidewalk past him. He trails after me, hands in his coat pockets and that mutinous expression I know so well on his face.

He unlocks the front door and stomps up the steps, leaving me alone to navigate the cramped staircase with the two unwieldy bags thumping and knocking along behind me.

I’m panting by the time I reach his floor, sweat rolling off my forehead. And the bags are empty at the moment, not as heavy as they’ll surely be once they’re filled with his belongings.

If they’re filled with his belongings, my brain reminds me. He’s not agreed to anything yet.

I drag myself in and set the cases aside. Simon shuts the door behind me and then leans against it, arms crossed, brow creased. He looks at me expectantly. “Care to clarify this for me?”

I close my eyes. My well-thought-out midnight speeches have abandoned me. All that comes out is “I think you should stay at my place.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” He looks genuinely perplexed.

“Because you can’t stay here.”

“I jolly well can stay here. I’ve lived here for six months, Baz. It’s fine.”

“It most certainly is not fine. I can’t stand the thought of you living here, Simon.” His expression darkens and I know I need to choose my words wisely. Now is not the time to use the word ‘squalid’ even if it is the most appropriate one to come to mind. I shove my hands in my pockets so he can’t see me clench my fists. I need to try a different approach.

“My flat is empty. There’s no one there.”

“I can’t stay at your flat, Baz!”

“And why not?

Simon splutters and blusters. “I just . . . I can’t do that.” His face flushes. “I’ve got a lease here. I can’t afford to leave this place.”

“It’s not about the money.”

Error, my brain shouts at me. Way to fuck it up, Basilton.

Simon pushes off the wall, eyes flashing. “It most certainly is about the money.” His eyes narrow. “I know this might be hard for you to understand, considering your background and all, but I’ve got finite resources. A limited budget. This fits my needs and I can’t just go buggering off to live in Chelsea on a fucking whim, Baz. I can’t do that.” Simon’s chin juts out and he looks away, his voice dropping. “I can’t afford that.”

“I don’t expect you to have to afford it. I told you—it’s sitting empty.”

He’s drawing himself up now, as tall and straight as he can, fists clenched at his sides. His chin juts out even more, and fuck it all, I know this expression. Why is he being so bloody stubborn?

“I’m not taking charity from you, Baz. I’ll not do that.” That’s why he’s being so fucking stubborn. I predicted this, I thought this out last night and I’ve made a bollocks of the whole proceeding.

My shoulders slump. “Please, Simon. Just do it for me. If I have to be away, at least this way I’d know you were somewhere safe.”

The fire goes out of his eyes but he’s still taut and rigid in his stance.

I keep going. “You’d be doing me a favour, looking after my place.”

The skeptical look is back. “Didn’t you tell me Fiona takes care of your place?”

I curl my lip. “Poorly. You’ve met her. How good an idea do you think it is, having her be responsible?”

He shakes his head. “You’re just saying that. You wouldn’t have let her do it in the first place, if you didn’t trust her.”

He’s right and it’s bloody irritating.

This day is getting away from me and I never intended to spend it arguing with Simon. My plans had focused more on snogging than snark.

Desperation is creeping in. “I’ll tell Bunce where you live.”

He scoffs. “She already knows.”

“Has she visited you here?”

Silence.

“Has she?”

“No.”

“I’ll send her photos of the rats and the rubbish bins, shall I?”

“You wouldn’t.”

I tap a finger to my lip. “To be honest, a Google street view would likely suffice. She’ll terrify someone into flying her over to move you out of here.”

“You don’t even know how to get in touch with her, Baz. Stop bluffing.”

“All it would take is a call to Watford to request her contact information. The alumni department is quite accommodating.”

“You bloody arsehole.” His fists are tightly clenched and his face is red. I can practically feel the heat radiating off Simon from here. “Why are you doing this?”

I step across the space between us and put my hands over his fisted ones. I lower my head, just a breath between our faces now. I rub his knuckles with my thumb and then gently rest my forehead against his. “Please.” It’s just a whisper. “I’ll never survive in New York if I know you’re in this manky flat all alone.” My hands slide up his arms, to his shoulders, to his face, cupping his cheeks as I gaze into the intense blue of his eyes. “Please, Simon.”

I can feel the tension in him, the tautness of his shoulders, his posture rigid. I don’t know how to break through that. I stroke his cheekbone with my thumb and tilt my head down. “Please.” I whisper that word as I bring my mouth to his, slide my lips along the chapped contours of his own, sink into the warmth of his touch, his tongue, his taste.

Simon’s arms slip around me, pulling me closer, tracing their way up my back. His mouth moves on mine, his breath catching, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He pulls back a moment later to breathe words into the space between us. “Why do you have to be so fucking persuasive, you twat?”

I bury my face in his hair, breathe in the scent of him, closing my eyes so he can’t see the depth of emotion in me. The glimmer of hope that he’s actually going to let me do this.

But, being Simon, he can’t help arguing the point. I should have known.

“I don’t want to mess up your flat, Baz.”

“You’re not going to mess up my flat.”

“You like things neat. You know I’m a disaster.”

“Ah, but now you’re my disaster, aren’t you, Simon?” His lips find mine again and my day is finally on track, as far as the snogging is concerned.

It unfortunately can’t last, as we have a flat to pack up.

Simon keeps bickering with me, even as I fold his clothes into neat piles and he sorts through the detritus on his desk and nightstand.

“You should at least let me pay you rent.”

“Why would I have you pay me rent? The whole point is having a place you can afford, that’s safe and sanitary.”

“I do clean, you know.”

I groan. “I know you do. How about we compromise on tastefully decorated and not in a dodgy neighbourhood? Is that better?”

Simon just grunts in response, but he starts placing his clothes in the empty suitcases so I know I’ve won this round.

“I’ll call Father’s solicitor Monday. It shouldn’t be problem to get you out of this lease.”

“I can’t afford a solicitor, Baz.”

“It’s just Percy. He’s Father’s cousin. He doesn’t charge for family business.”

“This isn’t family business!”

I glare at him. “If you’re moving into my flat, to house-sit for me while I’m in America, it damn well is family business.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re exasperating, Simon, not to mention exceedingly stubborn. Now come on, we’ve not got all night and I seem to remember you whinging about needing to eat.”

His stomach audibly rumbles at my words. I can’t help but laugh.

Simon shakes his head, face flushing, but he doesn’t fuss at me this time. He picks up another heap of t-shirts and tosses them into the open suitcase.

Good.

It doesn’t take us long to sort his belongings. Simon really doesn’t have much. There are a few rickety cast-offs from when he lived with Bunce. I offer to put the items in storage for him but he scoffs at the suggestion. The rest of the furniture came with the flat.

We trundle down the stairs, the suitcases banging and bumping along behind us. I get them loaded in the car and then we go up to fill some boxes—books and personal items, shampoos and soaps and such.

I take a last look around his bedroom. It’s bare and stark, all the colourful items that made it Simon’s stowed away. All that’s left is a cracked mug on the nightstand and a thick candle set by it.

Simon comes in to do one last sweep of the wardrobe and chest of drawers. His finger reaches out to touch the candle. It’s half burned down, not really worth the effort to bring it along, but he picks it up and gently wraps it and the stand it was sitting on in a bit of newspaper, before carefully tucking it in the last box.

Odd.

He shuts the door behind us and exhales. His eyes find mine. “You’re sure about this, Baz? You’re not just doing this to be kind? I mean, I know you’re doing it to be kind, but . . . you know what I mean?” He’s headed for a bluster again.

I raise my eyebrows and smirk. “Now when have I ever been known to show any signs of kindness, Simon? I’m desperately in need of a reliable house-sitter. No kindness to it at all. You’re the one doing me a favour.”

“You are such a terrible liar.” Simon knocks his shoulder into mine. “You’re going to let me pay for the utilities or the deal is off.”

I roll my eyes. “Fine. But for the love of God, don’t keep the thermostat down to save money.”

“Why not? I can always just throw another jumper or hoodie on, if it gets cold.”

“You’re truly impossible.”

“You like me anyway.”

“That I do, Simon. That I do.”

I feel as if I’m leaving a weight behind me as we pull away from the kerb and Simon’s old neighbourhood fades away in the dimming light.

“So do you want to go out to eat or should we just get kebabs from the corner shop?”

“Kebabs sound brilliant. I’m famished.”

Of course he is.

Simon’s hand finds mine where it sits on the gear shift. His warm fingers rest against the back of my hand and it feels like something clicks into place.

It’s going to be an awful wrench leaving him behind.

I’ll likely be up all night thinking of ways to let myself stay, even though I know that’s wildly unrealistic. I’ll be on that flight two days from now, whether I want to be or not.

And he’ll be here.

Surrounded by my things. And somehow that brings me a spot of comfort.

Simon

I don’t know why I let him convince me. I know it’s not like I’ll be living with him but it feels more intimate than simply house-sitting.

I can’t say my heart didn’t leap when he suggested it. That the thought of moving into a place imbued with Baz didn’t hold a significant appeal.

That it would be the closest thing to being with him, when he was so far away.

But I don’t hold with charity. I’ve made my own way since I was a kid. I don’t need handouts from anyone, particularly not Baz.

Not because he’s posh or well-off or any of that. That’s part of it. But mostly because I’m strict about doing things on my own.

We’re embarking on something here and I don’t want that clouded with obligation or debt. Or a sense of duty.

One thing I can say about Baz—he’s impossible to argue with when he has his mind set on something. We wrangled about it for long enough at my flat. And he’s right. I don’t really have a good reason other than I don’t want to feel indebted and I don’t want this to make things weird with us.

Or with his family. He called Fiona from the bloody car, to tell her I’d be moving in and she wouldn’t have to come round and check on the flat for him anymore.

He had her on speaker which was excruciating.

“I’ll not have to come around? Are you daft, Baz? Who’s going to check on Snow?”

“I don’t need checking on,” I whisper-hiss at Baz.

“Shut up, Snow. I can hear you. Of course you need checking on, you absolute numpty. You’ll never figure out Baz’s coffee machine without me.”

“Don’t drink coffee,” I mutter.

“You will once you try this machine. Does the whole frothy cappuccino thing, it does.”

Baz interrupts her. “Fiona, would you stop nattering on about the coffeemaker, for Christ’s sake. I’m telling you Simon is going to be house-sitting. I’ll leave your number with him, in case he needs anything or something goes balls up at the flat. But other than that, you are off the hook. Freed of responsibility for the place.”

“No loud parties or orgies, Snow. The neighbours are all stodgy old blue-hairs. Leave it to Baz to move to Chelsea and find the most geriatric and bland living establishment in the whole place.”

“Shut up, you hag. Not all of us are pretentious enough to think we’re hip and trendy just by virtue of living in Notting Hill.”

“I swear I don’t know how you turned out to be such a boring twat, Baz. All my effort come to naught.” She grumbles inaudibly for a moment and then resumes. “Call me when you get back home tonight, you besotted knob-head. Ta ta, Snow. I’ll see you around. Don’t run out of coffee. You never know when I’ll show up. That’s a warning and a promise.”

“Fiona. I swear by all that’s holy . . .” Baz starts but she’s already rung off. He turns to me. “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be traveling for work half the time or out at the clubs with her chavvy boyfriend and his mates. She won’t bother you.”

“You’re sure?” I think Fiona may be the most daunting thing about this move into Baz’s place.

“I’m sure. She barely went around when it was her job, she’ll be damned unlikely to do it if she knows someone’s doing the work for her. Trust me. She’ll be glad to be relieved of any latent responsibility.”

I hope he’s right.

Baz

It’s an odd paradox, having Simon in my flat, seeing his clothes hanging in the wardrobe, his shoes by the door, his toiletry bag on the bathroom counter. The feeling of having him around is so familiar, even if the surroundings have changed.

It may not be our old room at Watford but somehow, he fits here just the same.

#carry on #travel AU #can't find my way home #simon snow #baz pitch #my writing

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varaeya · 6 years ago

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Reya plays Midnight Cinderella: Wannabe Byron

A.K.A. Byron 2.0, A.K.A. Mr. Blank Personality, A.K.A. Perfectly Boring

That’s right, it’s time to finally tackle our newest bachelor (who isn’t at all new anymore because I’m trash at scheduling things), Rayvis Harneit! I totally did not have to open up the game to look up his name, nope, totally did not have to do that *cough* >.>

{Image: A closeup of Rayvis in a carriage at nighttime. He has somewhat messy brown-black hair with side-swept bangs, silvery-blue squinty eyes, and a beauty mark above the outer corner of his right eye. His outfit is mainly black with silver and white accents. His one-shoulder cape(?) has a really complicated collar. He’s introducing himself to the princess with, “It’s Rayvis. Rayvis Harneit.”}

Missed the last post? Click here. Confused? See the masterpost.

First off, many, many apologies for not posting any MidCin reviews the past two months. I really do want to do at least one post per month until I’ve done all the routes, but as you can clearly see, I blew it for February and March. I will try to be more consistent moving forward.

I was mildly excited when Rayvis was announced as a new love interest, partially because I was curious to see if this latest addition would have improved writing and mostly because I liked his hair. Yes, I’m shallow like that. Oh, and I also wanted to know how a really young Bergenia archduke suddenly becomes a Steiner duke.

Spoiler: The answer is orphans. It’s always orphans. Need an angsty backstory? Orphans. Need a character to feel out of place in the world? Orphans. Seriously, it’s like, what, half the bachelors are orphans? Hang on, lemme go through the list. Rayvis, Alyn, Leo, Louis, and Nico (I’m counting Nico in this list ‘cause his mom died when he was really young and he didn’t know who his dad was). Byron had a tyrant for a father (no mention of mom), Giles was disowned, Sid’s parents were exiled (and there’s no mention of a foster mom), and what’s-his-face’s dad gave bad advice before dying in a civil (was it civil? I don’t remember anymore) war. *squints* Robert. No mention of Robert’s mom so who knows how that relationship went. Wow, it’s a dangerous thing to be a parent in this world, doubly so if you’re a mother. Can’t have an alive and nurturing female character who isn’t the protagonist now, can we?

In fact, the only bachelor who doesn’t have dead/missing/contentious parents is Albert. But his parents are barely mentioned.

Back to Mr. Perfectly Boring. Um. I don’t remember much about Rayvis’s route. I do remember being rather annoyed that he had very little personality apart from “helping others only if it benefits him”. Which they didn’t even show all that well because it turns out he only uses that as an excuse to actually help people for realz. The writer(s) couldn’t even give this dude some realistic flaws! He’s just some two-dimensional pretty boy who enjoys playing chess.

I’m going to skip the part where our newly-chosen princess trips down the stairs right into Perfectly Boring’s arms and go to one of the main “conflicts” of this route:

{Image: Closeup of Rayvis in his office during the day. His office consists of dark furniture and large bay windows with black curtains. He’s saying the Aria, “I’m looking for someone. I want you to help me with that.”}

Rayvis is willing to help Aria with building a relationship with Stein if she finds Robert the Forgettable for him. The princess is conflicted. On the one hand, Boring refuses to tell her why he’s looking for Robert. On the other, Protea has been very aggressive in acquiring territory so having Stein as an ally would make Wysteria less of a target. Aria tentatively agrees to the arrangement.

Anyway, the usual stuff happens, like a ball where the couple dance together oh so beautifully because we all know that dancing together perfectly totally means you’re meant to be together forever, kidnapping as a romantic plot device, evil henchmen doing/plotting evil things because they are evil, the bachelor inexplicably falling in love with the “super special” protagonist who is not like other girls, etc., etc.

And don’t forget the angsty backstory! You see, Rayvis wanted to find Robert not for nefarious reasons (which would make the story so much more interesting) but because Robert was the last person to see Rayvis’s parents. Perfectly Boring desperately wanted to know exactly how mom ‘n dad died because we apparently needed an excuse for a tragic flashback.

{Image: Closeup of Robert in one of the Wysterian palace’s generic sitting rooms during the daytime. He’s telling Rayvis and Aria, “They died... protecting me.”}

Why? How? How did Perfectly Boring not know this? CLIFFHANGER Find out in the next post, MUAHAHAHA (sorry, it’s just that it’s starting to get late and I’ve already spent several days trying to write this >.< )

Here, have an springtime outfit:

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kashimos-hajime · 7 years ago

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Pachelbel’s Canon in Disaster

Request: firstly I just want to say that your writing is insanely good & I love reading your stuff. secondly i wanted to know if I could send in a Kavinsky request if that's ok? you invite peter to a family function to meet your extended family & he's nervous because he's afraid that they wont like him because they kinda have a thing about dating within your race (I'm coloured/black btw) its always something i worry about sadly but if you don't feel comfortable writing this that's fine

A/N: That sucks that you have to deal with that anon. I hope your family opens up soon and you can love who you want to love. Unfortunately, I didn’t write it as a black reader because I am not black and I don’t want to offend anyone by using stereotypes. Therefore, I used people of my own race (Chinese) and went from there. Hopefully, it’s okay! I mostly wrote fluff for this because I don’t think I can bring myself to write such hate right now. Sorry for such a long wait.

As the usual, thank you to @teawithbucky for being the OG.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When you’re invited to your cousin’s traditional Chinese wedding, your boyfriend’s feelings about meeting more of your family resurface and while you don’t want him uncomfortable, you do want him to go. So, it’s up to you to convince him.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky, Chinese!Reader

Wordcount: 1.8k

Rating: K+ (soft, sweet fluff)

You knead the back of your neck with your fingers as you wait for the water to boil. It’s nearly there and you just want to make some noodles. There’s a soft rhythmatic pad of footsteps and you turn around to see Peter coming down the stairs with the messiest bedhead you’ve ever seen. Your other housemates are either asleep or out so you have to house to yourselves as long as you’re quiet.

“Morning,” he calls sleepily, collapsing on the couch in the living room. “You’re home?”

“Because it’s noon,” you reply as you start seeing the bubbles you’ve been waiting for. Taking out a frozen slab of udon, you slip it into the water and cover the pot. “You want some lunch?”

“Yes, please,” he says, voice scraping hoarsely. You smile at him, shaking your head as he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen, sitting on one of the tall stools at the counter. Heading around to him, you press a kiss to the side of his head before pecking his lips. His arms wrap around you, pressing his face into your stomach. “Squishy,” he mumbles into your middle and you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair.

You and Peter have been dating since he saw you at the movie theatre. You two hit it off since he saw you at the release of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 at your local cinema and had argued profusely over who was your favorite (yours being Yondu, his being Gamora, which then led to an argument if Yondu even counted as a Guardian, which led to you winning and him asking you out and you saying if he ever had the luck to see you again). Over a few chance encounters, you found yourself becoming close friends and then falling head over heels in love, leading to you taking the initiative and asking him out.

The two of you now live in a house along with three others that go to a university with Peter. You yourself is an aspiring actor and have just landed a role in a TV show that’s meant to be a mid-season replacement. Hopefully it hits off.

“You don’t have work today?”

“I already finished my scenes,” you say. “I woke up at midnight, drove over, finished at ten this morning.” He raises his head, chin against your stomach and you grin hopelessly at his wide brown eyes and tangled brown hair that falls into his eyes.

“You didn’t wake me up?”

“You were binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine again,” you say with a sigh. Brushing hair away from his forehead, you bend over and kiss his forehead. He smiles as you pull away and go to the pot to make sure it doesn’t burn. You take the chopsticks that are resting atop the bowl and stir around the noodles, separating them. As you do so, your phone rings and you glance over your shoulder to look at the ID. When you see it’s your mom, you look to Peter.

“Can you answer that? It’s my mom.” He takes the phone, swiping to accept the call.

“Hey, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” You turn back to your pot as Peter makes conversation with your mom. You know they get along fairly well since introducing them a few months ago and you like how they interact so you just continue cooking. Covering the pot again, you go to the freezer and pull out some dumplings you had bought before coming home this morning. Peter has a smile on his face as he talks and you use your chopsticks to transfer the noodles to a bowl and pour the pepper and green onion dressing you had prepared earlier, tossing it so it coats the noodles evenly before sticking the chopsticks into the bowl and placing it on the counter across Peter.

You slide the bowl over to him and he stops it with a hand before removing the phone from his ear.

“Your mom wants to talk to you,” he said, taking the bowl and starting to slurp on his noodles. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn off the stove and go to sit beside Peter. The dumplings can wait.

“Hey, Mom,” you start in Chinese. “What’s going on?” Peter spares you a glance when you start speaking your native language, smiling and kissing your cheek. Turning your head, you ask silently for another on your lips and he obliges quickly before returning back to his noodles.

“Did you check your mail lately?”

“Yeah? Why, is there something important in there?” you ask, trying to think back to the contents you had quickly scanned before setting it on the small cabinet near the stairs. There were bills, ads, and magazines, nothing more but-

Oh, wait.

“Oh, the wedding invite! Yes, I got it, plus he emailed me yesterday to make sure.” Getting up, you go said cabinet and take out the white envelope with the card within. Bringing it back to the kitchen, you open it and slide out the card.

“Can you make it or do you have filming on that day?” Checking the calendar hanging on the wall with a quick look, you shake your head before remembering your mom couldn’t see you.

“No, it should be fine. Unless I’m pulled for reshoots, I should be done by March so I can make it,” you say and you hear your mom giggle on the other end.

“I can’t wait to see your cousin in a suit,” she says nefariously and you sigh, eyes resting on Peter who’s sipping on his soup. “You should bring Peter along, have him meet the family.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Bye, Mom.” Hanging up, you set your phone down and read over the invitation. Seeing as it’s January, you highly doubt the director would pull you in for reshoots when the weather is completely gone in March. The series is nearly in post production and you sigh, leaning forward on your elbows.

“What?” Peter asks, setting his now empty bowl in the sink. You sigh, coming around to stand by him near the sink as he begins to fill the bowl up with water so nothing will stain. He turns to you and you loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down. Kissing him multiple times, you just savour in his presence. There hasn’t been enough time between you lately and as the snow outside layered on the sill of the window, you just brush noses with him.

“I have to go to a wedding,” you mumble, lost in his scent, as his hands settle on your hips. He’s always had this effect on you. “My mom said I should bring you as my plus one.” He frowns and your eyes scan his face, not exactly confused. He’s always shied away from meeting your family, with your differences. In fact, he had made you make sure he learned everything he could about what was proper and what wasn’t, teach him how to make chopsticks, and even when he became a regular guest, Peter always helped with the dishes and tried to be almost overly helpful.

Now, his worry had faded away after a long stalemate in the war between you and your parents. They had hated that you brought some guy who seemed lazy, sleazy, and white, and you hated that they never saw past that. The only reason you are now on speaking terms is the fact that Peter proved them wrong and they let go of their prejudices. Still, clearly the confrontation lingers in Peter’s mind as much as it does in yours from time to time. You hate to see it resurface as a much bigger beast at the thought of meeting your extended family when the two of you had thought that part of the war was over.

“And?”

“Well, do you want to come?” you ask nervously. “You don’t have to but it’ll be nicer if you’re there.” You search his face, reading every inch of his hesitation.

“I’ll think about it.” You cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek and smile.

“Okay.” Pulling away, you sigh and he leans down to press his lips into your hair. Your hands trail down his neck and onto his arms, holding him there until you are ready to leave.

The topic becomes a dreaded subject. Every time one of you sees the calender with the red circle around the date of the wedding, either you or Peter leave the room. You hate how your relationship changed but you can’t help it. Especially because it’s a traditional chinese marriage, you know it just amps up the pressure on Peter to accept. If he says no, it may seem like he’s disrespecting your culture because he doesn’t think it’s worth his time. If he says yes, he may think or say or do something he thinks is wrong and therefore not have any fun at all.

When there are two weeks before the wedding, you and him are hanging out in your shared bed. You’re resting at the head of the bed, back against the headboard as you work on your newest resumé while he’s sprawled across the end of the bed on his back, scrolling through his phone and reading the textbook he downloaded onto his phone.

You sneak glances up at him, trying to approach the subject carefully. You don’t know how to say it, nor how to broach the subject but you want him to come. You want to show off your boyfriend like everyone else in your family does, and you want him to meet people you’ve grown up with all your life.

“So… it’s two weeks away,” he finally says, letting his phone and his hands drop to his sides. “I still don’t know whether or not I want to come. I’ve thought about it,” he adds, propping himself up on an elbow and turning to you. “Believe me, I have.”

“I know.” You close your laptop and set it aside as he crawls up between your legs and rests his head on your tummy. Threading your fingers through his hair, you sigh. “You’ve been using that brain more often than usual,” you tease, leaning over and pecking his forehead. He glares and scrunches up his face at you but you merely sigh, remembering the situation.

“I want to go, (Y/N). You know I do. I just can’t-”

“I can teach you. Everything I know about traditional weddings; everything from clothes to food to manners. We can start and if you feel ready by the date of the wedding, we can go together, okay?” A hopeful smile crosses his face and he sits up.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What do you think?” Leaning over, he kisses you hard against the lips and you laugh into it as the two of you roll over in bed. He gently moves your laptop to the nightstand as you land on top of him.

“I think it’s a fantastic plan.” Beaming, you lean down and your noses brush.

Two weeks later, Peter stands beside you at the wedding reception, your hand in his.

Your smiles can not be brighter.

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @itzyagirlrae

#to all the boys i've loved before #to all the boys i've loved before x reader #to all the boys i've loved before movie #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys ive loved before x reader #tatbilb #tatbilb x reader #tatbilb fanfic #tatbilb fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfic #to all the boys i've loved before fanfiction #to all the boys i've loved before fanfic #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky fanfiction #my writing #peter kavinsky fanfic

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queenandlionheart-rps · 6 years ago

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pairing: jeyne westerling + maron greyjoy { @knightsandkrakens } universe: university au companion piece found here

Jeyne Westerling had wanted to attend Oldtown University from the time she was six. She’s a legacy; her parents had met there, one of her uncles had donated the main arts building, and her great-times whatever grandfather had been on the board when the school was founded back in 1807. Oldtown University is in her blood; it’s where she’s meant to be, and Jeyne spends most of her high school career ensuring that her grades are good enough to get in without her father having to make a call. Her mother, Sybell, had been a scholarship student from the wrong side of the tracks who had fallen in love with Gawen Westerling, and the resulting gossip about their marriage had ruined a great deal of social capital Gawen had built up as captain of the rugby team.

The result is this:

The Westerlings still have money but they no longer enjoy the social status of generations past, and at Oldtown, Jeyne soon learns that status matters.

Her name, however, matters more.

For all she’s worried about fitting in, she’s recruited by Theta Phi Alpha within a week of settling into her residence hall. The Thetas are the most popular girls on campus, throw the best parties, and always look as if they’ve stepped outside of a magazine. Joining them will mean her nights are late, her mornings are early, and she will rarely get a moment of privacy. Even knowing this, she pledges anyway.

Jeyne isn’t sure she fits in, but she ignores that cloying voice in her head and soldiers on.

[ Months later, as she’s enjoying her college life, she’s pleased she has. ]

She’s been in Theta for a year and living in the house for six months before she realizes that Maron Greyjoy’s eyes linger on her at parties a bit longer than others do. He’s a couple years older and a member of Sigma Chi, the most popular fraternity on campus. By definition, he can have any woman – or man, she supposes – at any given time.

He has a bit of a reputation, too. Family money, made through somewhat nefarious means, with a father she’s heard he can’t stand. That doesn’t stop him from spending his money, though, and every time Jeyne attends a party at Sigma, she’s surprised by how expensive and top shelf the alcohol is. Jeyne finds that Maron Greyjoy surprises her often, with the winks he teasingly throws her, the way even the most innocuous of touches to her skin sends her heart into spasms, and how much she longs to see the genuine smile he seemingly reserves for her.

For all of her time spent on appearance – perfectly manicured nails, purposefully tousled waves of chestnut hair, and hours spent in the gym working off Friday night parties – Jeyne is still a kind woman at heart. So when she sees the darkness in his eyes or hears the self-deprecation in his voice, she reaches out, promising that he’s wrong, making him laugh, and hoping that the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair show him that she cares.

Jeyne grows used to Maron surprising her more often than not. She’s not surprised, however, by his sense of humor and finds herself laughing more often with him than with any other man. Her dates appreciate this much less than she does.

And for all of his reputation, she’s never felt safer as a drunk woman than she does with him.

[ Sometimes she drinks a bit too much and wakes up in Maron’s bed, her clothes still on while he scrunches up in his easy chair. Jeyne ignores it when she thinks she’d rather he be wrapped around her instead. ]

That’s not to say that she’s ignored any other man in her vicinity. Jeyne’s slept with at least two of Maron’s frat brothers, though she can’t recall them being anything more than acceptable. It doesn’t matter, anyway, she thinks. They don’t matter.

They’re not him.

It’s mid-November when Jeyne notices his gaze on her legs. It lingers, more than she expects it to, and she’s reminded of how he had stumbled over his words one afternoon, how he’d sprained his ankle at a party just after catching her attention, of how his cheeks had turned pink when one of his friends had mumbled under his breath.

Alone, these bits of information mean nothing. But, together, Jeyne thinks they just might mean something.

Maybe he likes her, too.

It’s not popular in Theta, but Jeyne’s grandmother had taught her how to knit and so during her nights when she tells her friends she’s studying, Jeyne works on a sweater for Maron. It’s deep blue, like his eyes, and she knits a design of krakens around the hem and cuffs. Jeyne wraps it and sends it off with Maron at Christmas, making him promise he’ll wait for the holiday to open it.

[ When his sister posts a video on Facebook of him opening her gift and pulling it on over his pajamas, her heart might just grow two sizes. The photos his other siblings post make her smile widen and when his own gift arrives, it is so thoughtful that Jeyne cries for the first time on a holiday. ]

He shows up the night before New Year’s, wearing her sweater with a bruise around his eye and a solemnity that tells her she should wait for him to share before she asks. Jeyne finds out later that he fought with his father before leaving, that he packed a bag and hopped into his car [ a ridiculously expensive piece of machinery she still has problems pronouncing ] before coming to The Crag. They spend the rest of the holiday together, walking the shore, staying up late with movies and wine, and pretending that they aren’t falling asleep with each other on her family sofa every evening.

She’s touched that he chose to come to her, is even more touched that he chooses to stay, and for a second at midnight, she thinks he might change her life entirely.

He doesn’t.

But when they return back to Oldtown, it’s clear something has shifted. What isn’t clear, however, is just what that is.

What is clear, though, is that Jeyne is in a state of limbo. Weeks pass and still he does little differently. Weekends are spent at parties, drunken nights are spent sleeping in his bed while he sleeps in his chair, and he still gives her smiles that make her think he just might be The One.

And yet, Maron hasn’t paid her the attention she wants. So Jeyne takes matters into her own hands and she posts fairly regularly on Instagram, waiting first until she’s seen that he’s liked someone else’s post. It’s fairly tame, all things considered, but there’s a hint of her cleavage, her legs look like they’re on fire, and the background is one she knows he’ll appreciate. This becomes a regularity: Jeyne posts, Maron likes, and she finds herself waiting for more.

Nothing else changes. Until Spring Break.

She’d kept her plans open for some time, hoping that something else would shift, that maybe she’d be spending the week with him inside of her more than not. Since she’s been disappointed by that, Jeyne decides, last minute, to take a couple of friends up on their offer on a yacht trip to the Summer Isles.

Maron loves the sea, she knows, and it seems rather fitting, spending the weekend on Margaery’s father’s yacht with the sea behind her. She makes sure she has a world mobile plan beforehand and each day her Instagram story is filled with photos and videos of her, Margaery, and Sansa wearing bikinis and drinking cocktails, the blue of the ocean making the perfect backdrop.

There’s one photo, however, that she sends just to him [ oh, she’ll pretend it’s a mistake later, that she hit his username instead of my story, but in reality it’s much more calculated than that. ]. In it, her bikini straps are falling off her shoulders, the smile on her face is much more genuine than it is seductive [ it’s a smile she gives only to him and she hopes he recognizes it ], and she’s on a small island that appears to be mostly deserted. The caption is what makes it the most fun, however. Love my girls, but wishing you were here. When she sees it’s been read, Jeyne smirks and puts her phone away to have another bellini with her friends.

Let him stew on that for awhile. Maybe he’ll even wonder if she means him.

When her phone pings minutes later with a new notification, Jeyne allows herself a satisfied smile.

[ It’s nothing compared to the expression she will wear two days from now in his bed, when he’s done nothing more than make her scream his name as she falls into oblivion. ]

#{ drabble: maron }#{ otp: krakens&seashells }#{ linen & lavender;; blood & dirt;; a snowflake on warm skin }#{ jeyne westerling }#{ jeyne && a snowflake on warm skin }

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infinitum-imaginaerum · 7 years ago

Text

UMBRA | LUCAS

Bodyguard!AU | Mini-Series

Words | 2,700+

Language, mature themes, mentions of death, illegality; we’ll see where else this goes

I | II

Holed up in your room was where you spent most of your time these days. With the dark halls of marble flooring and Victorian architecture accentuating every sound ever made in the house you were forced to live in, it was hardly a good idea to be wandering around, especially since the next to silent padding of your feet was about the loudest noise on the face of the planet in the middle of the night.

It was an interesting lifestyle you had to live considering you were essentially the target for any potential blackmail or ransom, the type of exposure your family couldn’t risk. Your mother had feared so much for your safety, she often argued with your father about it—booming through the aforementioned halls when your father insisted that you had to live your own life, with her retorting that she wasn’t going to lose you because of his past. Karma was a bitch, and because of your father’s rather nefarious and disillusioned lifestyle when he first met your mother, you were trapped in his luxurious quarters potentially until his death.

After a couple of failed attempts to run away—much to your chagrin, but owed to your father’s assistance—you were essentially under twenty four hour surveillance. The extravagance of your father’s home allowed for the Umbra to be live in assistants.

The Umbra…there was a high turnover when it came to them thanks to your mother. Your parents met on a job, your father participating in undisclosed gang-esque related ordeals, your mother the hired protection. She was highly experienced in the field of assassination, a bounty hunter per se. She taught you everything you needed to know about growing up in this type of household, the types of people you’d no doubt come inadvertently into contact with because of their reputation and she wanted to you be prepared.

But perhaps she prepared you a little too much.

Back to the Umbra. You often gave them the slip, your hiding and escape skills far superior to most of the men your father hired which proved to truly irritate both of them.

That’s the argument you had the misfortune to overhear. They were down the hall just a little way from your room in the master bedroom, the door closed but it didn't matter. The argument was loud enough to let the residence in on the particularly convoluted situation.

“It’s the fourth time this week she’s gotten out of this house! What type of guys are you hiring, because they all seem quite incompetent to me! How hard can it be to keep tabs on a little girl!” Your mother’s voice boomed down the hall and permeated through your door, the shrillness of her voice able to penetrate your earbuds.

You raised an eyebrow, removing a bud from your ear to change your motive from overhearing to eavesdropping.

“At some point you have to come to accept that she’s top tier in the department of mischief and getting away with it with a mother like you.” Your father seemed to be taunting your mother, laughing off his previous statement and you could only imagine the enraged look on your mother’s face as she stared down the man she married.

Your parent’s marriage had been on the outs lately because of you. You couldn’t spend your whole life cooped up in their house—it became quickly apparent just how necessary it still was when you unintentionally got an Umbra killed in the line of duty, trying to protect you from the vengeful outside world. It was at that point that your mother realized your father had continued with his risky business.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault her life is in danger? Maybe if you hadn’t led such a flowing blood trail, they wouldn’t know that you even had a daughter in the first place!”

You winced at the unceremonious sounds of glass smashing around on the marble floor. He was a whiskey sipper and it didn’t take long anymore for your father to become a complete fool and get a little aggressive with your mother. You didn’t have to guess what the sound was—you father had intentionally chucked his glass to the floor to make a point—and silence ensued. Your mother was used to this by now; divorce was just around the corner.

“You are the one who taught her how to protect herself—she’ll use it on anyone she deems threatening,” he slurred, successfully ticking his wife off even more than she already was.

“You’d think men who are trained to deal with this type of thing would be able to handle it. She’s just a little girl.”

“You keep saying that but she’s of age now. Do you remember where you were at when you were twenty one? You had fifty kills under your belt,” his punitive voice reminded her, dripping with venom though a little slurred.

“You will always find a way to turn this on me.”

“So what do you suggest then, all-seeing-eye?”

Another unceremonious smashing of glasses jerked you under your covers. It was already so late at night and you had been trying to sleep, relaxing to the placid music in your ears, the moonlight trickling through your blinds just enough to illuminate the room to realize every detail of it as you glowered at nothing in particular.

The silence continued, which was a little disconcerting. Your father asked a question, and he mostly demanded answers so when no reply came, you ripped the covers away from your body and tossed your headphones to the side and touched your feet to the soft shag rug covering the chilled marble flooring of your room.

It took only a moment for your feet to slide into the slippers you left next to your bed and head out the door of your bedroom. The Umbra posted outside your door turned, concernedly, to give you a look and reached his arm out to block you from advancing, but you shoved it out of the way, almost completely disregarding him. You shuffled down the hall to the Dutch doors of your parents’ bedroom, having every intention of throwing them open to ask what could possibly be so pressing and heated to be breaking glass, but you were stopped when another hand grabbed your arm.

“Step off,” you growled, turning your widened eyes to the man stopping your attempts. He was suit clad, as all of them were. The sheer determination in your eye to interrupt their little conference was nearly dreadful.

“I’m ordered to keep you out of the room,” he tried, voice firm but intention unsure.

“I’m ordering you to take a fucking hike,” you snapped back, “This is entirely my business—it’s not as if I couldn’t hear the whole conversation from my bedroom.”

He released your arm, a man whose name was entirely unknown to you as the turnover of these men was so great, you could hardly keep their names straight before they were replaced by new employees.

Your attention shifted back to the Dutch doors, not even bothering to turn the handle as you heaved the center crease, propelling both doors open and shake the walls upon impact, disturbing the wall adornments in the near vicinity.

Two sets of eyes were immediately on you as you scanned the luxurious master bedroom before landing on the culprits of your disturbance. The man who previously tried to stop you stood tall and presented, waiting to speak once spoken to, but your parents had other ideas.

Glossy eyes fell unto them, waiting for an explanation once you checked that everyone was in one piece, that there were no mishaps like you initially suspected. Glass scattered the floor, expensive whiskey trickling in this direction and that, your father sitting and your mother standing, enough distance between them.

They both looked at you, waiting for you to say something, so you took it upon yourself to open the conversation.

“What the fuck is so important that you must discuss so stridently past midnight?”

Your mother approached you, reaching out a hand to perhaps offer some solace from the hostility she knew you’d overheard, but you clouted it away.

“I mean, I know what you’re discussing, but does it have to be done so noisily and, I don’t know, so inconveniently?” you inquired, disregarding your mother’s proximity and focused a majority of your attention and the entirety of your gaze on your temperately toasted father.

“Your father and I were discussing his inability to hire anyone even abstemiously qualified to keep watch of you while we sort out his retirement.”

She used the term retirement very loosely. It really was just to cover up the fact that while your mother had been kept in the dark, your father couldn’t let go of his old life and continued to indulge in pilfering everything from money to fine art, cars to properties—whether that involved violent ends or not was not your business, but seemed to be a bastardized clarification of why it was your problem.

Despite all of that, your father was a successful businessman, legally. He used gargantuan proportions of his wealth for charity purposes and auctioneering. If that was to cleanse his wrongdoings in some sick and twisted way, that was his shtick; at any rate, it caused a lot of elegant and, for lack of better words, superfluous gatherings at your estate. You called it superfluous, because it was really just a gaudy attempt to prove your father’s status in the community—and what better way to do so than throw extravagant cocktail parties—since he’d been questioned by other members of the community of his authenticity. But who really needed authenticity when it was all about charity in the first place.

Amongst the vast amounts of people who attended these events, which were typically celebrations for winning a high bid or for receiving a letter of recognition for contributions, there could be anyone looking to end your father, or, perhaps, yourself. That was where the Umbra came in.

“If you honestly expect me to be under twenty four hour surveillance by a man twice my age and me be quite unprotestingly accepting of it, I think the both of you need to reevaluate. I want nothing more than to remove myself from these slime balls. It’s disgusting to be so objectified by middle-aged men.”

Silence fell over your little family, the realization of your discontentment with the Umbra finally washing over the face of your mother. You’d leave it to them to figure out, “Clean this up, and try to actually let the residence of this house, including myself, get some sleep.”

You dismissed yourself, spinning on the polished floor to head back to your room. The shuffles among the silence seemed to be deafening, only drowned by the clopping of black dress shoes as those on duty returned to their assigned posts.

Pithily, you slammed your room door and crawled back into bed, hardly having the mind to remove your slippers, pleased when they removed themselves, descending to the floor at their own volition. The covers had been half-tucked over your body, face down in the pillows and forcefully shut your eyes in otiose attempts to sleep.

Days passed and for once the quarrelling ceased. It was the first time in a while that you’d approached them in such a manner. It was disrespectful, sure, but it appeared to be the only avenue by which you could get both of them to listen at the same time.

There was muttering amongst many of the house staff about a new young hire, information attempting to be hidden from you, as they all knew how much you just adored new Umbra hires. It must have been the reason your mother called for your appearance in the foyer in the first place. She could hear you coming down the hall, the almost silent clops of suede peep-toe wedges making your presence known.

“This is my gorgeous daughter, your assignment.” Your mother was in the middle of a sentence when you’d finally made it within ear shot. You knew you should have worn something besides what you were. A rayon crepe black sundress. Of course, the dress was flattering. A simple but elegant white floral print, fit and flare cut, puff sleeves and a regency style lace trimmed neckline to top it all off. Your hair in loose beach curls shrouded a bit of your face as you avoided gaze with the new hire.

You had anticipated mental drools, a predatory look of epic proportions—the type you normally got but gave your best attempt to brush off. You stance was implicative of your mood, hip jutted to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, very closed off body language. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you didn’t notice the stares you were used to.

He examined your face, the spoiled brat look written all over it. Fancy makeup, shimmery earrings, perfectly styled hair and flattering but expensive clothing. You were the definition of an only child to a filthy rich set of parents. His gaze never faltered from your eyes, though you knew he was scanning every bit of you he could see, but not in an objectifying way—it was almost as if he was measuring you up.

It was your turn to give him a good judging onceover. His suit was perfectly pressed and his stance was secure, feet shoulder width apart, chest out and shoulders square, hands hooked behind his back, jaw firm and head high. He was as legit as they came, so you softened a little.

Amidst your final mental verdict, your mother was calling your name somewhere in the back of your mind. Once you finally snapped back to reality, your mother cordially introduced you to one another.

“This is Wong Yukhei, a prospect from Hong Kong. He’s come a long way—”

You were already done listening, distracted by his sharp features. For such a young man, his jawline and cheekbones were pretty set. His eyes, a gorgeous mix between coffee and ebony, serious and attentive, stared you down. You examined the rest of his features. His nose was straight, buttoned on the end. His jaw tightened when your eyes fell onto his lips. They were a pale muted rose, top thicker than bottom and before you were staring too long, your eyes regarded his honey brown locks, parted on the side, hardly considered combed—some tassels were falling into his eyes.

He was tall, an observation you’d missed upon first sight and judging by his stance, his set jaw, and the wear of his pants, he was fit. He had to be for this type of job, especially considering your agility and tendency to disappear unwarranted.

His ears were pierced. That Cupid’s bow was something else, glittering in the dim light of the foyer, all natural light from the skylights above. His neck was long and slender, fading into square shoulders with the curve of his traps, which you only became aware of by the fit of his jacket, hung up a little too high for a normal boy his age. He was easily unlike anything you’d ever experienced around here before.

When he finally spoke, his voice was something ethereal. For such a young man, his pitch was deep, too deep. You hadn’t even realized your mother had stopped talking until he was speaking. His voice was velvet in your ears. Suddenly, you were moving. Despite his velvet voice, you were finding it difficult to focus on exactly what he was saying—it was short lived and your mother was talking again as you headed down the hall, herself at the head of the train and you the caboose, sandwiching Yukhei between to take the first right, which was the hallway your bedroom was down.

Speaking of, your mother mentioned you being Yukhei’s new assignment. Your heart skipped a beat; it had to have, when your mother stopped at the door across the hall from your bedroom. What had happened to the previous resident of that room? It was always a seamless transition when someone new took that room.

“… the bathroom is that door there…”

You were almost panicking when she pointed to your door. Yukhei was so serious about this job; he didn’t even turn to look at it and took the information at face value, having no particular significance or point of interest to him. It was a job, a job he was paid for, a professional job.

Wong Yukhei was your new personal bodyguard.

#yukhei #lucas #yukhei scenarios #lucas scenarios #nctwriters #nct #nct scenarios #bodyguard!lucas #this boy won't let me live so i'm going to spend my days writing this since i've had this idea for some time now and lucas fits the bill #good day infinites

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