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fictionadventurer · 1 year

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Every time I think I'm tired of these guys and their endless rivalries, I learn about another crazy facet of the political system of the time and I get obsessed all over again.

You've got the chaos of 1840-1860, where slavery's increasingly becoming the all-important issue. The Whig Party is fracturing over it and turning into a bunch of tiny little one-issue parties that split the Northern vote. The only reason the South isn't seceding is because the chaos in the North keeps Southern-sympathizing Democratic presidents in power. By the time the 1860 election rolls around, the tiny little Northern parties have finally coalesced into the Republican Party, whose one issue is opposing slavery, and the Democrats are fracturing to back three separate presidential candidates. This allows the North to finally get a Republican in the White House, upon which the South immediately throws a tantrum and bails.

Which then transitions us to the political climate of the Civil War, where the war effort is vastly complicated by the fact that you've got to keep a jillion tiny little factions happy to prevent the country from splintering further. You've got the slave-holding border states who need to be placated so they don't decide to secede. You've got abolitionists who want to make the end of slavery the prime object of the war, which would be a great way to send all those border states straight into the arms of the Confederacy. You've got German-Americans and Irish-Americans and a bunch of different ethnic groups who all want representation among the high-ranking officers of the war. Within the Republican Party itself, you've got former Whigs and Know-Nothings and Radical Republicans and Free Soilers and anti-slavery Democrats who all agree that slavery is bad, but disagree about the best way to get rid of it, plus they all retain vastly different political beliefs from their former party associations. Plus, there are still some pro-Union Democrats you have to deal with, who also splinter among themselves into War Democrats and Peace Democrats who disagree on whether we should continue this horrific war or sue for peace.

And then there's the Confederate politics. You have Davis, the so-called President-General who'd rather be leading troops and hates politicking so much that he'll allegedly cross the street when he sees a Congressman coming rather than risk talking to him and be accused of currying political favor. He's dealing with a Congress that's essentially the Anti-Davis Party, because it's made up of a bunch of men who thought they should have been president (and I cannot explain just how hilarious that is to me). They're uniting under their belief that slavery should be preserved, and yet by the end of the war they're considering emancipation efforts in a last-ditch attempt convince France or England to help them out. They seceded because of one issue and they're willing to throw that away rather than admit defeat.

The chaos just keeps going. It's a never-ending series of high-drama rabbit holes to jump down. You couldn't make this stuff up if you tried. Politics nowadays is crazy, but Civil War politics are crazier, plus we have the distance of history that makes it fun to just sit back with a bag of popcorn and watch the insanity unfold.

#history is awesome #presidential talk #i've reached the point of watching 2012 cspan videos to satisfy my curiosity if you were wondering how my day is going #the mosaic book made a mention of how davis' son died during the war just like lincoln's did #which intensified my desire to learn more about davis as a politician #and the comparison was even more fun than i could have imagined #love to see two old guys sit on a stage and judge long-dead politicians

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the-trickster-exe · 1 year

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I See The Danger, It's Written There In Your Eyes. || Whumptober: Day 4

Fandom/Characters: Moon Knight. Steven Grant, Jake Lockley.

Summary: Steven is frontstuck and hasn't been able to talk to Marc in nearly two weeks. When he sits down to try and establish contact with the man, he accidentally ends up speaking to someone else he's never met before.

Warnings: Steven does briefly go into a small spiral of doubt about whether the system is real/if he's just made it up and its actually another disorder or something.

Word Count: 2121

A/N: I spent so long trying to figure out whether I needed to use ‘lo sé’ or ‘yo conozco’ when Jake says “I know”, so if you speak spanish please let me know if I need to change the one I used-

AO3:

Maybe before his awareness of the system, Steven would’ve been happy to just be able to live his life on his own. But now that he was comfortable with the familiar presence of Marc coexisting with him in this life, it was honestly incredibly jarring to be alone again. He was frontstuck. Completely isolated from his counterpart, with no way of accessing the innerworld and no idea how to get back in contact. He was totally cut off from the man for who knows what reason, fronting on his own and being in control for now upwards of almost two weeks, and he hated it.

It was even worse when the doubt set in. The anxiety and fear that had started to steadily grow as each isolated day passed, his mind slowly being laced with doubts and worries. Logically, he knew that Marc was there somewhere. He knew that they were plural, that they had dissociative identity disorder. That his mother was abusive and dead, and that he was an alter just like Marc. He’d spoken to Layla about his doubts and she’d been extremely reassuring and understanding of the current circumstances.

But that didn’t mean his anxiety wasn’t there. What if it was just some elaborate story, completely made up and all in his head? Maybe it was something else. That he was still mentally ill, but it was something else. Could just be some kind of episode, maybe a mood disorder. Delusional or maybe even a rational way to stay in denial about it all being a personality disorder. Suffice to say, his mind was spiralling down the rabbit hole the longer he was stuck on his own and he was getting desperate for some kind of sign that it was real. In his last call with Layla, she’d suggested taking a day for himself. To try and just acknowledge what was happening within their system and accept it, even if the acceptance was fake. To simply pretend it was a planned ‘Steven’ day that he and Marc had agreed upon and avoid ruminating on it as best as he could.

So that’s what he was doing today. Self-care, whoop whoop!

He’d stayed in bed a lot later than he usually would, totally because he was laying in and not because he couldn’t find the motivation to get up until he physically rolled off the mattress onto the floor. Then he’d made himself breakfast… Lunch. Bordering closer to tea time rather than lunch if he was being totally honest with himself. Layla had brought over curry the night before when they’d hung out, so he pulled out the leftover remnants of his takeaway and reheated them in the microwave. Nothing better to do than sit on the kitchen top and watch the container spin around in the machine until it was ready. Sluggishly, he’d reached behind him to mess with the CD player that sat behind him, tucked away in a little nook, and luckily for him it had something in it. Pressing play, the music crackled to life, something soft yet with a steady pacing. A tether to secure and protect him from drifting off into his head in the silence.

Eventually, the numbers ticked down into single digits and Steven reached over to pull the door right before it started beeping. Not caring much about the heat stinging into his fingers through the container, he tipped the contents into a bowl and moved to flop down onto the sofa. Remote in hand and fork in the other, he balanced the dish on his blanket covered lap and switched on the TV to some random Blue Planet documentary. With eyes fixated to screens, he shovelled the curry into his mouth. Steven wasn’t hungry, but he cared enough about the body that he forced himself to eat. Just in case Marc showed up.

Marc. The one thing he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. Couldn’t even go an entire day without thinking about him. About the system. The half of him that was missing. Not missing. No. Marc was still there, he wasn’t gone. He’d be back, he wouldn’t leave Steven. Not without saying something. Anything. He couldn’t be alone. Maybe he could try to reach out again. Just for a minute or two. It wouldn’t hurt just to try.

It was with a slight desperation, one of which he was choosing to ignore, that he put down the now empty bowl and moved to lay down. Meditation, or at least the classical type of it, had never really worked for Steven. Marc was the same, he could never stay still for that long and whenever he did he started spiralling in ways that dug up old wounds instead of fixating on the present. Instead what the Brit did when trying to get into a meditative state, was he’d try to take a nap. For some reason, he found it easiest to enter the headspace when he was laying down on something comfortable with his eyes closed, almost falling asleep but just on the cusp of clinging to his consciousness. He’d try to reach out, to grasp onto something tangible and use it as a beacon to drag him closer towards the innerworld.

Taking a few deep breaths, the man shuffled into a more comfortable position and tried to let himself go. His thoughts continued to flit about, cropping up in random ways and interjecting. It was only when he reached the point of recognition that this was the closest he’d get to achieving a quiet mindscape, he tried to reach out to the American.

“Marc? You in there? I’d really appreciate something, anything really. Just a sign that you’re alive and that this isn’t all just some elaborate mental invention…”

A minute passed. Or at least that’s the amount of time he assumed had passed. It was hard to know when you didn’t want to actively check a phone or a clock. He tried to keep his mind as still as possible, not wanting any disruption to block out a response just in case it was a faint thing. Staring into the dark void of his inner eyelids and sighing in disappointment, a familiar sense of discouragement settling in his chest. Steven wanted to try again, but he didn’t want to just set himself up for more disappointment. He just didn’t want to be alone.

Faintly he thought about just giving up and calling it a day, deciding it would be more productive to continue watching the tele and listen to David Attenborough tell him about fish or something. That was until very distantly a feeling overcame him almost as if telling him he wasn’t on his own. Something that should’ve been extremely reassuring if only for the fact that he knew it wasn’t Marc saying that to him. It was something else. Someone else. And honestly, Steven couldn’t tell if he was more on edge about it, or if he was actually happy that someone new had shown up. At least they were new to him, because Marc sure as hell never made any mention or hint that there could be a third alter in the system.

With a new spark of energy, he blinked his eyes open hastily and sat up with the impulse to find a mirror. Clumsily, his feet carried him towards the bathroom and he stared at his reflection nervously. His pupils flickered over his own face, scanning to see any differences (no matter how small) that might signal a new person. He could feel his pulse rate rising ever so slightly with a certain thrill at the prospect of having another headmate, questions whirring around his mind about what they might be like. He concluded they’d be nice, if they’d had the decency to respond to him just then instead of staying hidden and quiet, then they had to be nice. What was their name? How did they sound? What did they like? Who were they?

Distracted with his spiral of curiosity, he barely managed to notice the ever so familiar grip of someone subtly trying to take over the body, or at least guide it away from looking into the mirror. A whispered thought that wasn’t his saying something about finding it weird, not wanting to be seen like that. Which made sense to the Brit. He’d found it quite jarring to see himself like that. Or his not-self. Expecting to see a reflection of himself only to be able to catch a glimpse of Marc. The uncomfortable awareness of being consciously perceived by someone that wasn’t you. So, he allowed his eyes to drift and took the initiative to turn themself away from the mirror, deciding it might be nicer to just lay back down and try to talk that way.

“Hello? I heard you, I felt you, I know you’re in there somewhere…”

Steven didn’t want to be too forward, and he especially didn’t want to be demanding. If the alter wanted to remain hidden, he would respect that. Albeit very reluctantly. So, he left it open ended. An invitation to initiate conversation on the other alter’s terms. They could respond if they wanted to, he let them know that he was aware of them, meaning he knew he was no longer alone. Whether their goal was to simply reassure Steven it wasn’t all in his head, or if they’d finally gotten comfortable enough to show themself, the man was just glad that he had been given some kind of relief from the denial and doubt.

He lay in comfortable silence, simply waiting for anything that may or may not be said or pushed towards him to feel. It was a strangely relaxing way to pass the time, just floating in his own little bubble just on the edge of sleep. It was only when he felt another nudge of something that he tried to be more forward with his interaction.

“Do you… do you have a name? Something I can call you by?”

A few beats of awkward silence passed before he heard something. A faint bit of pressure settling to the side of his head as a slightly murky voice pushed cautiously through his mind. It felt sturdy, reliable in a distant way, yet comfortably familiar enough that he knew he could trust it despite the alter’s inner conflict as to their own reveal. It was almost as if the alter was actively trying to fight against their own instinct to stay invisible on the sidelines, pushing through the discomfort of being known just to help Steven’s sanity.

“...Call me Jake.”

Instantly, Steven began to grin, his emotions bleeding all through the innerspace as he tried to convey his happiness at the response, as well as to just try and reassure the alter- to try and reassure Jake that he was extremely glad for the company. From somewhere he felt the man sigh internally at the large display of emotions, but he made no move to retreat so Steven took that as a win. He wanted to question the man more, to get to know him and interact with him, almost as if to catch up on the missed time they’d not had together yet. But he got the gist that that probably wouldn’t be the best course of action if he wanted to keep Jake at ease.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, mate. My name’s Ste-”

“Steven. Sí, yo conozco. I know.”

The Brit paused momentarily, not sure as to how he should respond in a way that didn’t seem like he was pushing for information.

“I take it you’re not a new appearance then?”

“Let's just say it's been a while.”

Then it fell silent. As much as Steven liked to try and talk to people, he’d always been awkward at small talk. Especially when it was obvious that the person on the other end seemed as though they would rather lick an electric cattle prod than continue speaking. He didn’t hold it against Jake, the man seemed closer to Marc in his increasing dislike of nattering. Which is why Steven took it as a cue to simply be glad for the internal companionship after almost two weeks of solitude. If Jake didn’t want to answer, Steven wouldn’t ask; he’d just enjoy the other man’s faint presence. Slowly, he rolled onto his side on the sofa and opened his eyes to look at the TV that was still playing the documentary. Feeling a lot lighter than he had in a while, he spoke aloud to the man with a content tone.

“You alright with watching this, or is there something else you’d prefer?”

#moon knight #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #fic #steven grant #jake lockley #whump #writing

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darthstitch · 2 years

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fic (history class cryptids): how do you justify I'm mystified by the ways of your heart

Hob Gadling likes to cook.

In the beginning, it was, obviously, a survival skill. He still has memories of helping his Mam prepare the rabbit he'd caught for dinner for a tasty stew or a pie. He remembered walking into the woods with his sisters to look for wild vegetables and herbs, even mushrooms, Mam having taught them what was safe to eat.

"Old family recipes these are," she would tell them. "Passed on from me own mum and from me gran." Her brown eyes, the same ones Hob had, would twinkle. "Did ye know that it was the little folk who'd taught our family to cook? Sensible creatures they are, knew the important things were a warm hearth, a good meal and a full belly. They'd eat seven times a day, they would."

Seven times a day was bliss for all of them, when sometimes they could barely scrape up three.

And she'd gather them round, Hob and his sisters, with even the baby listening in rapture from his cradle, as she made dinner, all of them helping.

Hob still knows how to make his mother's best stews and pie. A fine spring day was usually the best time to make them.

Another kitchen-related memory was being with his dear Eleanor, who'd learned to cook at her Gran's knee. The scents of certain spices and herbs were enough to send him back to Eleanor's kitchen, of her stories about how Gran had perhaps charmed her Granddad with a certain dish and how Eleanor would be serving that for dinner, a toast to that redoubtable lady's memory. How Hob had laughed at the naughty twinkle in his wife's eyes, caught her by the waist to her not completely indignant squeals, silenced her with kisses that she had eagerly welcomed.

Their Robyn had been born nine months after that dinner, to the very day.

Eleanor had hoped to pass her Gran's recipes own to her children, to her own daughter but she had been absolutely delighted that her husband had wanted to learn everything as well.

As it turned out, Hob would be the only one to remember the recipes now. And the stories.

Eleanor would not be the last cook that Hob would learn from. There was Yasoda, with her naan and her wonderfully fragrant curries. It had been one of those times he did not regret being a hired sword, protecting their merchant family from thieves and brigands as they traveled on the Silk Road and on the seas.

Hob had also spent some time in New York, with his war buddies Fredo and Michael, who'd shared with him the best Italian dishes they'd learned from their Mama who had originally come from Sicily. There was also Ruyi and her family recipes from Canton and Szechuan, just before she'd been carried off to the Forbidden City to be an Emperor's bride. And he'd been there in Japan, of course, joining Kenshin and his family as they had all discovered sukiyaki for the first time at the Akabeko, as it had just been a recent invention for Japan's Meiji era.

Hob remembered them all, every tale, every memory, each time he decided to cook something he'd learned from them.

And to be honest, that was really how he went about feeding Dream of the Endless.

Unavoidably detained, Dream had said at first, when he'd finally shown up at the New Inn, 33 years and a few odd days late (Hob wasn't counting them to the minute, obviously not). Those beautiful twilight eyes had dimmed and Hob knew all the signs of trauma and distress when he saw them. It had been Dream's turn to tell him his own tale, dragged out at first one word at a time, beginning with his own name.

Dream of the Endless. Morpheus. Lord of Dreams and Nightmares.

(Hob would learn about the Prince of Stories title much later, but that was a tale for another day.)

Over a hundred years spent naked in that glass cage, without air, without water to drink or food to eat, with nothing except for the slow torment that his own mind could devise for him. Unavoidably detained, with the barest hint from Dream himself that somehow Dream had deserved it for his own stubbornness and pride.

Hob didn't know what infuriated him more.

He'd taken one look at his friend, who had looked even more gaunt and thin than he'd been the last time they'd seen each other, and had to visibly restrain himself from dragging Dream into his kitchen, sit him at the dining counter, and make him something to eat.

Feeding Dream was an alternative from trying to find Roderick Burgess' grave, so Hob could dig up the rotten bastard to bring him back to life and kill him all over again. What? Hob had favors he could call in, even if he mostly kept away from any else that smacked of the supernatural and the occult.

"I can survive without sustenance," Dream suddenly said, watching Hob's hands clench on the table. "And those who had me imprisoned have been suitably punished."

"I'm that obvious, eh?" Hob's lips twitched into a wry smile.

"Your daydreams were a little…colorful."

"God's teeth, man, warn a fellow before you do that."

"I do not make it a habit to peer into your dreamscape, Hob Gadling. Only that they're a little … loud … at the moment." Those blue eyes darkened just a little bit, the color of the ocean under a moonlit sky (God's wounds, Hob was turning into ruddy fucking Shaxberd, horrible prose and all). "Also rather bloodthirsty."

Hob huffed. "Well, that I'm not sorry for, duck." Christ, he'd barely swallowed back the urge to actually call him love, a word that was just aching to trip itself out of his careless tongue. "It's either the sword or the kitchen knife and since I can't avenge you anymore, I'll just feed you instead."

"I have eaten something since I've gotten out," Dream protested. But Hob almost had him, he could tell.

"This would be…?"

Dream looked properly abashed. "A bucket of fried chicken from a dream. It said… KFC, I think? I was not inclined to be discerning at that point."

Hob facepalmed. "No. NOPE. Not fucking dreamspace KFC. Instead, I'm going to cook you something. Maybe some congee to start, the way I'd learned it from Ruyi or she'd haunt me and say I bring shame to all her ancestors if I don't do it justice."

"And who is Ruyi?"

And that was how Hob Gadling, entirely by accident, discovered how to get Dream of the Endless to actually eat something. A story, along with whatever he was cooking, and watching Dream adorably wrinkle his nose before trying whatever it was that Hob set before him.

He liked the congee, redolent with ginger and green onion.

Soon enough, it became their own thing. Dream would visit, Hob would make him something and there would be a story to go with it. It soon became shared tasks in the kitchen, handing His Darkness a kitchen knife and something to chop. Or maybe it was dishes to wash and dry.

Hob was very pleased when his darling friend soon lost the gaunt look, color dusting across those fine cheekbones.

Somewhere along the way, duck and friend became love, dove and darling. In between curries and fragrant rice, pies and sorbets, stews and soups, there were kisses exchanged, gently chiding his owne hertis rote to stop that nuzzling at his neck or dinner would be ruined, but oh, gods, fine, yes, love, let me turn off the stove before we burn the house down and let me kiss you proper, hm?

Here were more kitchen memories to make, a tiny precious smile to coax out of his beloved, delighted laughter when Dream presented him with his own culinary creations, ridiculously proud to have mastered this skill as well, love in every bite.

There were new stories for them now, in Hob's own kitchen. And they'd be creating more, endlessly, if both of them had their way.

They would.

-end-

Footnote the First: Obviously, Hob's family had absolutely no relationship to the Little Folk who hid in comfortable holes in the ground, ate seven delicious meals a day, and had small magics that would help them hide from the Big Folk in a pinch. Whatever are you talking about?

Footnote the Second: It must be stated that Dream of the Endless took to domesticity like a duck to water, despite popular opinion. It drove his sibling to utter frustration, all that delicious want and need that had been bottled up with its matching plunge to despair and grief once thwarted, was now simply answered with equal fervor, causing a certain contentment and joy that had not been seen in millennia. It was nauseating. To say nothing of this whole fandom that had sprung around their ridiculous broody older brother, who was supposedly not the beauty of the family! And to top it all off, this fandom of desire-crazed humanity had been caused by their own grandchild, who shared her uncle's affinity for stories! This was an offense that could not be borne!

Footnote the Third:

Obviously, Hob Gadling has heard of Twilight. Who hasn't?

(Fine. He read the first book. It was not high literature but who didn't enjoy silly romantic stupid fluff every now and then?)

So he gets all the Edward Cullen jokes his students make when they first clap eyes on Dream. It's hilarious. Of course he thinks ol' Eddie-boy doesn't hold a candle to his darling.

And then, for once, jolly old England decides that there is SUCH A THING as sunlight and he gets to see Dream in the glorious sunshine.

Oh.

OH.

Goddamn Eddie Cullen can keep his sparkles; Dream of the Endless glowed in the sunshine. And obviously, that was excuse enough for Professor Hob Gadling to steal some kisses.

Professor "Thomas Murphy" would like to point out that there was no need for kiss-stealing, as he was perfectly happy to bestow them upon his ridiculous husband whenever he wanted.

Footnote the Fourth:

Even Dream of the Endless needs to rest.

Once, he used to retreat to his own private chambers in the Castle. A bed, sheets softer and silkier than a whisper, coolness and calm and peace within. Alone and with no one to make demands upon him, no duty or burden to carry.

He contented himself with that, for a very long time.

Now, he find himself stumbling into the Waking, instinctively setting foot into a place that had been built for him by loving hands, where offerings of flowers and food and wine had been provided, where songs and stories were shared.

Dream seeks out a certain warm presence, smiles when he is coaxed to sit down. There are arms to hold him, kisses pressed to his hair, to his nose and lips. He nuzzles into a familiar scent, presses a kiss over a lovemark he had made just that morning.

"Hullo, love."

"Hello, husband mine."

Dream is home.

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #dream x hob #domesticity #i crack what i want #yes i'm posting this on ao3 #finally managed to corral these bunnies into some semblance of order #sorry not sorry desire #shhh nobody tell neil #these two idiots with their shared braincell

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trickster-jpeg · 7 months

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I See The Danger, It's Written There In Your Eyes.

Warnings: Steven does briefly go into a small spiral of doubt about whether the system is real/if he's just made it up and its actually another disorder or something.

Word Count: 2121 It's On AO3 -> Here

So that’s what he was doing today. Self-care, whoop whoop!

“Marc? You in there? I’d really appreciate something, anything really. Just a sign that you’re alive and that this isn’t all just some elaborate mental invention…”

“Hello? I heard you, I felt you, I know you’re in there somewhere…”

“Do you… do you have a name? Something I can call you by?”

“...Call me Jake.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, mate. My name’s Ste-”

“Steven. Sí, lo sé. I know.”

The Brit paused momentarily, not sure as to how he should respond in a way that didn’t seem like he was pushing for information.

“I take it you’re not a new appearance then?”

“Let's just say it's been a while.”

“You alright with watching this, or is there something else you’d prefer?”

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon knight fanfic #steven grant #jake lockley #my fic #writing #ao3 #whump #hurt/comfort

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talesofourworlds · 7 months

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TRY + Velvet Crowe! (I told you I'd do that thing xD)

SEND TRY + A CHARACTER YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE !

"Hey. Phi. I need you to taste this for me."

Alternating between chefs within the group wasn't too surprising. They all needed to pull their weight, after all, and Velvet was included among that. Still, with her... unique circumstances, she still needed Laphicet's help when it came to her turn. Part of her still didn't understand why she couldn't taste food the same way she used to. Her sense of smell was fine, so why was it her taste that had been thrown off? She shook her head, deciding not to worry about the hows and whys again. No point in falling down that rabbit hole.

When she saw the young malak approach, she offered him a spoon and a small plate of what she'd prepared. Mabo curry. Already, Velvet had a feeling that he'd tell her it tasted great. It was his favorite, after all. Perhaps that was why she'd chosen it specifically to make that night.

Knowing what she knew about him now, how he was the reincarnation of Artorius and Celica's unborn child, it made her want to help him out in return for all the times he'd helped her. She'd never made it easy for Laphicet. Not in the beginning, at least. Now, too, she had the added weight of him saving her from her despair. She knew in her heart that he would never hold that over her head. He was doing what he had to at the time to save her selfish self from being killed. But why? Well... Velvet already had her answer. Laphicet, despite all of the contradictions that made her up, cared about her.

And she, too, cared about him. Velvet knew that she hadn't put much thought into taking him from Teresa way back when. She hadn't put much thought into his name, either, simply giving him her brother's when he'd nearly fallen to his doom back at Vortigern. But now, she put a lot of thought into things. Because he put a lot of thought into helping her. Time and time again, he made sure to give it his all. He'd even punched Innominat in the face just like he'd said he would.

So making his favorite dish now? It was a small thanks, but it was a step in the right direction. At least, that was what Velvet thought.

"Let me know if it needs any adjustments," Velvet told him as she pushed the plate closer to him. He'd already taken his seat, and she saw him take the spoon from her a moment later. After a moment, Velvet's expression softened. She allowed herself to smile.

Everything she'd done... maybe some of it really had been for nothing. But saving Phi from Teresa? Somehow managing to build a bond with this young malak despite it all? That was worth it.

#ooc #You did say you would! xD #Okay but Velvet does feel fun to write #She's a walking contradiction but I love her #This got a lot more introspective than I intended but I mean I did rewatch Phi's crowning moment of awesome among other scenes so #There you go xD

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thekarikadaiin · 1 year

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Fresh Meat in Chennai: Discover the Quality Offered by Kari Kadai

In the bustling city of Chennai, where traditions and flavors collide, sourcing fresh meat is a culinary necessity. The discerning palates of Chennai's residents demand nothing less than the finest when it comes to their meat. One name that stands out in the crowd and has become synonymous with high-quality, fresh meat in Chennai is Kari Kadai. Let's explore the journey of this iconic establishment and how it continues to redefine the concept of fresh meat in the heart of Tamil Nadu.

Kari Kadai: The Epitome of Fresh Meat

For the uninitiated, Kari Kadai is more than just a butcher shop; it's an experience in itself. Founded with the vision of providing the freshest meat to the people of Chennai, this establishment has successfully upheld its commitment to quality for years. Their dedication to ensuring that the meat you buy is as fresh as it can be is unparalleled.

The Importance of Fresh Meat

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Kari Kadai understands these aspects of fresh meat better than most. Their sourcing and handling processes are meticulously designed to preserve the natural flavors and quality of the meat, ensuring that every cut you take home is a cut above the rest.

Read Also :- Chicken curry cut with skin.

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Discovering Fresh Meat in Chennai

When searching for fresh meat in Chennai, you must prioritize not only the taste but also the quality and safety of the products. Kari Kadai stands as a beacon of trust in this regard. With their commitment to sourcing the freshest meat and their expertise in handling and butchering, you can always rely on them for a delightful and wholesome dining experience.

In conclusion, Chennai's love for fresh meat is as old as the city itself. In the quest for the freshest, highest-quality meat, Kari Kadai has emerged as the champion. Their dedication to providing fresh meat in Chennai has made them a household name, and their customers return time and again for the exceptional quality and service.

So, when you think of fresh meat in Chennai, remember that Kari Kadai is not just a name but a promise of unparalleled freshness and flavor. Whether you're planning a traditional South Indian feast or an experimental culinary journey, they have got your meat needs covered, ensuring you savor every bite of your delicious creation.

#Fresh meat in-chennai

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paulisded · 1 year

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The Ledge #562: First Quarter Report

As this is the last show of the first quarter of 2023, and even airing on the last day of the month, it's only natural that we take a look back at some of the stunning new records released so far thsi year. It has been quite a year, especialy if you are a fan of guitar-driven music. Power pop, in particular, has made a great comeback this year, highlighted by the likes of The Whiffs, Local Drags, and Ryan Allen And His Extra Arms.

But it's also a great year for returning legends. Yo La Tengo, The Long Ryders, The Church, and Iggy Pop released their best albums in years. Billy Childish reunited the legendary Thee Headcoats for their first album in 22 years, and it's a smoker!

For this show, obviously, the main highlight comes from the "52 Weeks of Teenage Kicks" subtheme, and we received thrilling news earlier this week. The very first person I contacted when I came up with this idea was Malibu Lou from Rum Bar Records. Obviously, I was hoping that he could convince some of his bands to participate (and I still hope they do). What I wasn't expecting was for Lou to make the very first new submission. Weeks later, Lou uploaded his cover as a free Bandcamp single, and it's now in rotation on SiriusXM's Underground Garage!

As a thank you, I'm again airing Lou's cover, but this week's opening spot goes to The Dollyrots' cover that was found on last year's Down the Rabbit Hole compilation. Once again, though, I'm pleading with all listeners, musicians, labels and/or anybody else to please record their own version of the Undertones' classic. I'd love for some more new submissions to air, and maybe it can lead to bigger things just like what happened with Malibu Lou!!! If you have any questions, please send an email to [email protected]

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD THE SHOW!

1. Dollyrots - Teenage Kicks

2. Malibu Lou & The Attackers - Teenage Kicks

3. The Reverend Horton Heat - Ready Teddy

4. Kepi Ghoulie - Happy When It Rains

5. Kepi Ghoulie - I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

6. Yo La Tengo - Sinatra Drive Breakdown

7. The Brian Jonestown Massacre - Nothing Can Stop The Sound

8. The Church - C'est La Vie

9. The Long Ryders - Seasons Change

10. Iggy Pop - Frenzy

11. Thee Headcoats - The Baker Street Irregulars

12. CTMF - Failure Not Success

13. Guided By Voices - Released into Dementia

14. The Hold Steady - Sideways Skull

15. Quasi - Shitty Is Pretty

16. Brix Smith - Aphrodite

17. Death Valley Girls - Islands in the Sky

18. The C.I.A. - Impersonator

19. Shonen Knife - Spicy Veggie Curry

20. shame - Fingers of Steel

21. The Tubs - Sniveller

22. King Tuff - Smalltown Stardust

23. Local Drags - Heard About It

24. The Whiffs - Shot Thru

25. Steve Stoeckel - Mod Girl

26. Ryan Allen And His Extra Arms - Like The Ramones

27. The Tearaways - Come On Jaan

28. The Streetwalkin' Cheetahs - Ain't It Summer

29. The Shang Hi Los - Plymouth Rock

30. The Laissez Fairs - Pretty Penny

31. Purling Hiss - Yer All In My Dreams

32. The Men - Hard Livin'

33. SLANDER TONGUE - Monochrome

34. Metal Marty - Goddamn Divorce

35. Tee Vee Repairmann - What's The Use

26. CIVIC - Blood Rushes

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vividviverrid · 2 years

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Get to Know Me Tag

thanks for the tag @ehlaaaaaaaa :)

Relationship Status: Single

Favorite Color: teal/neon green

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: SPICY!!

Three Favorite Foods: cheese enchiladas, mac n cheese, curry

Song Stuck In My Head: rent by pet shop boys

Last Song I Listened To:i like that by houston 😭😭

Last Thing I Googled: flemish giant rabbit (i was a little under the influence. it made me cry theyre so giant nd soft...)

Last Series I Watched: farscape

Last Movie I Watched: shrek

Currently Reading: nothing give me recs

Currently Working On: plot details for rfogl

Dream Trip: right now? honestly? dunking donut

Anything I Really Want Right Now: dunking donut

i tag anyone who wants to do this (too nervous to tag specfic people)

#about me

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3rdgymbros · 3 years

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— title; he likes your butt and your fancy hair.

— pairing; crepus ragnvindr x reader (platonic child! diluc ragnvindr x reader, platonic child! kaeya alberich x reader)

— summary; in which crepus brings you home to meet his sons, who end up telling you all about how much their father likes you

There’s no way around it. Formal outfits really don’t suit you.

You give up at tugging at the hem of your shirt, and start tugging at the neckline instead. The shirt is a little low-cut, but surely that’s fine. It looks presentable, at the very least.

You redirect your fussing to your hair. You’d taken pains to brush it, once, twice, using your silver-backed hairbrush, but the summer air had been thick and heavy on your skin as you’d made your way to the winery, and a brisk wind had ruffled your hair and chafed your cheeks. Surely it must be a tangled mess once again.

You might never have agreed to meet with Crepus and his family if you’d known that you’d be fretting so much about it. It’s the first time that you’ve ever been so serious about anyone before. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve met anyone as sweet and as caring as Crepus, and you’re acutely aware that this meeting is crucial for the future of the relationship. There’s no way that you can possibly refuse. That’s probably why you’re paying so much attention to how you look: you’re trying to distract yourself from anticipating an evening full of long, awkward silences where you all dine in a frosty silence. Or an evening where you can feel his children’s dislike for you pulse through the air, as they accuse you of using their father for your own selfish means. Neither of these is a particularly appealing prospect. At least, you can look nicely dressed. It might make you feel a little better.

You fingers are shaking as you hold onto a flowered tin. You’ll admit that you’re eager to curry favour with Crepus and his sons, and surely a few cookies never hurt anyone.

Unless they happen to be allergic to the ingredients.

The though sends you into a fresh panic, and you clutch the tin tighter. Your mouth is dry no matter how often you swallow, and you can’t keep from shaking as you climb up the steps and approach the house. The door opens before you can so much as knock, and you wonder if they’ve been watching with their faces pressed against the window, watching out for your arrival. You try to smile, to cover up the panic coursing through you. A small, round face stares at you, with the widest, most curious eyes.

“Hi.” The red-head says boldly. “I’m Diluc. Who are you?” Before you can answer, he tears out of the foyer, yelling, “Kaeyaaaaaaa!”

“Oh –” You say, stepping back uncertainly, but it isn’t long before Diluc returns again, with another child in tow. If Diluc is bright and cheerful, Kaeya is much more serious and guarded, preferring to hang back behind his brother, uncertainty colouring his face. “Hello. I’m –”

“We know who you are. You’re [ NAME ]! Dad’s told us allllllll about you!” Diluc says, oblivious to your discomfort. He continues speaking before you even have a chance to reply, turning large eyes onto the tin still clutched in your hands, as though it might possibly protect you from the onslaught of relentless questions. “What’s that? Is that a present for us?”

You clear your throat, discreetly looking around and wondering when Crepus will arrive. “Yes, actually. I made cookies.”

“Cookies?” Kaeya pipes up, speaking for the first time as he edges closer.

“Can we have some?” Diluc asks, his face brightening.

“Well –” You hesitate for a brief moment, wondering if you should be giving them snacks so close to dinner. But then Diluc casts a pleading look at you, echoed by Kaeya a quick second later, and you can feel your already shaky resolve begin to crumble. “Okay.”

You pass them the tin. Diluc fumbles with the lid, but eventually gets it open. Anxiously, you wait for their reaction. Diluc and Kaeya both peer inside the container, staring at the crisply baked shapes. The scent of sugar and vanilla wafts out. The cookies have been painstakingly shaped into thumbprints, with strawberry jam centres, chocolate fingers and vanilla rabbits.

Diluc chooses one with a bright red centre and pops it into his mouth, savouring the sweet taste and chewing slowly. His little mouth is stained red with jam, and crumbs cling to the corners of his mouth, both of which are promptly transferred to his mouth with a wet finger. “Dad’s been talking a lot about you.”

“Y-Yeah!” Kaeya says through crumbs and icing, shoving another cookie – whole – into his mouth.

You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You have to clear your throat before you can speak. “Really?”

“Yeah. He likes your butt and your fancy hair. I know. I read his diary.”

Amazingly, you can feel yourself beginning to laugh.

Encouraged by your reaction, Diluc nods his head vigorously, already reaching into the tin for a second cookie. “Yeah! You know, he spent an hour deciding what to wear for tonight? Both shirts looked the same but he still couldn’t decide, so he called us and Adelinde in to ask. And when I asked why he was asking us about his clothes, Dad said that you look really nice, and he wanted to look nice for you too because he likes you a whole bunch, and he’s thinking of. Uh. Um. Pro-Pre –”

“. . . Preposing.” Kaeya says helpfully, biting the ears off a chocolate rabbit.

“Uh-huh. What’s preposing?”

“Dunno.”

“Let’s ask Dad later.”

“Yeah!”

You seize up. Frozen, like a wide-eyed rabbit in headlights, you can’t even manage to nod as you try to assimilate all this new information. Crepus loves you. He’s thinking of proposing. You can feel Diluc and Kaeya looking at you, darting around your face and searching for answers and reasons to your sudden change in expression. You avert your gaze, unable to meet their eyes.

“Your face looks funny!”

“Funny.”

“Diluc? Kaeya?”

Crepus descends from the stairs, immaculately dressed as always. He smiles when he sees you, his face wrinkling up into the lines of one used to joy and gentleness. When you fold yourself into his side, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You breathe out a sigh and close your eyes, shutting out the world and inhaling the scent of his pale blue shirt. It smells like home; of freshly washed clothes and lavender.

“Sweetheart, you’ve met the boys?”

Diluc smiles at you, showing off the prominent gap in between his teeth as he beams; it seems as though the light from the lamps lining the hallway intensifies their light. “[ NAME ] brought cookies, Dad!”

Kaeya nods vigorously, holding up a saliva-coated biscuit for emphasis. “Cookies!”

Crepus’ brow furrows as he looks at you; you can only shake your head and offer him a sheepish, guilty smile in return. He’d said that there wasn’t a need for you to bring gifts of any sort, but it was a bit too late for that now, seeing as how his sons have already fallen upon your gift with the ravenous demeanour of a pair of hungry wolves. “Did you say thank you?”

“Thank you!”

“Go wash your hands. Dinner’s ready.” Crepus says, and it’s all the invitation that Diluc and Kaeya need. With a last wave at you, the two boys scamper into the house, still holding onto the tin. “And no more cookies!”

“So.” Crepus takes hold of your hand, letting his fingers slip in between your own. And in that moment, nothing else really seems to matter. Your heart is swelling, as a thousand different emotions hits you in a tidal wave, overpowering the fear, the uncertainty. And in that moment, you realise that you wouldn’t mind this domesticity. You might even find yourself longing for it, if you’re being honest. Two healthy, vibrant children, an adoring husband. And a big house to wander around in, bright and beautifully decorated, knowing that when you were asleep, your husband would slip into bed beside you. “What did you talk about with Diluc and Kaeya?”

His words only cause your smile to widen, and you bounce on your heels, your laughter giddy and laced with a promise. “It’s a secret.”

#crepus ragnvindr x reader #crepus ragnvindr #genshin impact #gi #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact reader inserts #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact headcanons #crepus ragnvindr imagines #crepus ragnvindr headcanons #♥ || sam writes.

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tastesoftamriel · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry if you've already answered this one. What are the daily meals usually eaten by the various peoples of Skyrim? Is second breakfast a thing?

Daily meals across Tamriel are highly subjective, and this list is barely the tip of the iceberg where day-to-day cuisine is concerned. Nonetheless, these are some of my favourite dishes when you're just not feeling up to something remarkable, but still want something delicious. As for second breakfast, you can have as many breakfasts as you can fit into you anywhere but Summerset!

Altmer

When it's not horrendously complex, Altmeri cooking is really quite remarkable in its simplicity. One of the most common dishes you'll find in households and taverns across Summerset is a warm, smoked seafood and dill tartine. The most popular version of this recipe calls for smoked marlin or halibut, but is also just as good with everything from eel to clams and sea urchin. Baked into a smooth and creamy egg custard in a buttery shell, and topped with a sprig of fresh dill, this is a seafood lover's go-to!

Argonians

One of the things you'll find in Murkmire is the sheer number of crocodiles. And the best thing to do with those crocodiles, bar leather, is to cook them. Similar in taste and texture to frog or chicken, crocodile is a slightly dry meat that's marinaded overnight in a spice paste, and wrapped in pandan leaves to infuse the flavour. The next day, the croc is chopped into bite-sized pieces and fried in coconut oil, and served with a big plate of rice and steamed vegetables.

Bosmer

The Wood Elves love their soup, and soups aplenty do they have! A particularly popular recipe is deer stew, which is a chunky thunderbug egg-drop soup with deer meatballs. Boiled thunderbug eggs become soft and spicy, whisked goose egg-drops thicken it up, and fried venison meatballs add flavour and texture. It's simple, tasty, and made from easy to find ingredients.

Bretons

High Rock may very well be the bread capital of Tamriel, and it's no surprise that one of the most common dishes is a type of stuffed bread. A deliciously unconventional yet very popular option is large buns flavoured with cardamom, which are stuffed with blueberries, crispy lardons, and blue cheese, and served hot with a slathering of butter. Great with a cup of tea!

Dunmer

Saltrice is a staple in the Dunmer kitchen, whether it's been fermented in sauce, stir-fried with hackle-lo, or baked into crackers. Saltrice and ash yam bowls are a typical food, where generous servings of other ingredients are served atop a bowl of freshly steamed saltrice, and slices or cubes of fried or baked ash yams. Toppings can include anything from scrambled kwama egg, pulled bantam guar, nix-hound curry, or pickled comberry and spicy seasoned hackle-lo.

Imperials

Stuffed and baked pasta logs, or cannelloni, are a Cyrodiilic staple that you'll be eating at least once a week in the Province. Stuffed with things like minced boar and vine-ripened tomatoes, ricotta and spinach, or smoked aubergine and caviar, these tubes of wheat pasta are slathered in a rich cream or tomato sauce, covered in cheese, and baked until crisp. A favourite of both the young and old.

Khajiit

Noodles are a Khajiit's best friend, and roast meats are any noodle dish's best friend! Roast duck, barbecue pork, or chicken noodles with a sweet-and-salty sauce are sure to be a hit at any home in Elsweyr. Thin egg noodles are stir fried with a signature moon sugar soy sauce, and topped with juicy slices of roast meat with crispy skin are served on top. For a couple of Septims more, you can make it a truly satisfying meal by throwing in a few crispy shrimp dumplings!

Nords

When it comes down to it, nothing hits the spot for a Nord quite like a good old jacket potato with spiced beef, sausage, and beans. There really isn't much to say here, aside from the fact that nothing is off limits when it comes to jacket potatoes. Whether it's Eidar cheese and bacon or reheated rabbit pemmican, everything tastes great when it's been mashed together with a potato that's about the same core temperature as Red Mountain.

Orcs

Contrary to popular belief, the Orsimer have a varied diet beyond roasted meats and root vegetables. A popular Stronghold dish, for example, is spaghetti squash stew, made with a curious type of squash that turns stringy when cooked, mimicking Imperial spaghetti. The stew it's served with is made from meat (usually beef, boar or mammoth), cream, mushrooms, and a good measure of ale. It's rich and hearty, and also goes well with a side of bread to mop up the gravy.

Redguards

Goat is the staple meat in Redguard cuisine, and it's in everything from curries to kebabs. One of my favourite ways to eat goat is a commoner's dish of baked goat in coconut milk, served with saffron rice. The meat is juicy as it is baked in a clay oven in a sauce made from a thick paste of spices and coconut milk, and has a bit of char that brings out the flavour. It's complemented perfectly by the rice, and is best washed down with a cup of sweet cardamom tea.

#Asks #Food #Cooking #Tes #The Elder Scrolls #World building #worldbuilding #Tastes of Tamriel #tastesoftamriel #Long post #Text post

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a-simp-20 · 3 years

Text

➷Love,Taken away by sickness ➷ [KENTO YAMAZAKI X READER]

[AIB cast Masterlist]

Characters: Kento Yamazaki,Y/n

Summary: you both are in love, but that love will fade.

Warning!: Reader has Lung cancer and is on her 4th stage, mentions of blood.

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.2K

Tag's: @suptherebitches , @niragis-right-hand-rabbit sit back relax, grab some popcorns and tissues ok?

Enjoy~✨

Sorry this took so long to write (TwT)/~~~

[3 more Days left..]

"I'm sick of this.." You muttered as you took your pills. You hated this, you disgusted this. You hate taking medicine every now and then, you just hate it. You want all of this to stop but it can't be stopped because you have no choice but in about how many days you're going to die. You're at the park right now, holding the bottle of pills that the doctor gave you. Even though he gave you pills, the sickness will not go away.

You took some tissues out if your purse as you coughed on it. You looked at the white item and saw blood. Ever day you would always see it, every time you eat meals and cough, blood. Every time you're talking to someone and cough, blood. Only blood is what you saw until you met Him.

Kento yamazaki, a Japanese celebrity that is know by his acting skills. You both met at the exact park where you're sitting right now. He is a kind guy and you loved him and he loved you..but that love will never happen and you always say that over and over. But Kento kept visiting you and take care of you from time to time,he loved you and you know that.

You got up from the bench and walked home, seeing Kids pass by you and having fun. You missed the old days that you have before You had lung cancer. The cause of the lung cancer was basically from your family tree, one of your ancestors had lung cancer and it rarely passed down to the other generations of your family, but hey what a coincidence it got passed down to you!. You first found out that you had lung cancer last week and not when you were a kid, strange right?.

Lets keep that aside for now. You got inside your favourite Café and sat down by the window. You sighed as you looked outside seeing how beautiful the world actually is "I'll miss this place.." You muttered to yourself as you put your palm on your right cheek.

Your phone buzzed on the table as the waitress sets down your drink and walks away. You grabbed your phone and saw one notification from your Instagram dm's. You tapped on the notification and saw that Kento has DM you.

[kentooyamazaki]

Kentooyamazaki: Hey there y/n, how have you been?

You frowned because you would never have to see him anymore. The both of you barely talk after you announced to him that you had lung cancer. Other than that he has been busy with his career that he couldn't have that much time with you. Of course you understood..but what you didn't like was the face he made when you announced that you are sick.

It was a face of confusion,anger and maybe if you could say,disgust.. .

You would always think that he was disgusted by the fact that you had lung cancer,or maybe he was angry because you didn't told him sooner.

Kento wasn't the angry type of guy..he just sometimes gets out of control.

You just read his message and deleted the app.

---

[2 day's left..]

It's getting worse.

You're now laying on a hospital bed with a face of boredom. You had nothing left to do but just wait until the time comes "Y/n!?,are you okay!?..i heard you fainted at your house. I'm so glad that your neighbor was over" You heard a voice said.

You looked at the voice to see Kento holding a banquet of your favourite flowers and a box of curry on his left hand "What are you doing here?,and how did you know I fainted..my neighbor didn't told anyone about this other than my parents" You said to him as he put tthe curry and flowers on the small table that was right next to your hospital bed "I-..well,basically I followed you..home" He said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he stood there "And why didn't you respond to my DM yesterday?" He asked you with a concerned face.

You frowned "So what?,it's not like I need your help anyways.." You said cold while grabbing the box of curry and opening it "But- Y/n! You're sick! And you have barely several days to live..i'm just trying to take care of yo-" "I SAID I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" You yelled at him until you cough on the palm of your hand seeing more blood "You do need my help!, look what you done to yourseld! Now it's getting worse dammit.." He muttered the last part as he grabbed a tissue and wiped your hand as he sat right next to you with a chair.

Silence is in the air as the both of you didn't know what to do or say so you decided to break the silence "Kento..when I told you that I said I had lung cancer..your reaction...you looked disgusted when I told you it." Kento looked at you with his brown eyes now narrowed, he was angry "Heh..what do you even mean about that?, do I look disgusted right now?? RIGHT NOW?" He said as he gets even more closer to you than before

"Maybe.."

Kento sighs "Fine, if you need anything just call me..okay?" Kento says as he got up from the chair and left the room, shutting the sliding door loud enough so that you could hear.

He doesn't care about you anymore.

---

[1 day left..]

It's the last day, Kento waiting outside the surgery room. There is now way you're going to die "I should've just helped you and stayed and not be so angry at you that day" He kept saying things while waiting.

Him sitting there with tears in his eyes, the surgery rooms light was still on so he still had a chance to see you alive. His friends came with him to the hospital but had to leave Immediately cause of their jobs. They brought him some gifts and chocolate and bouquets to hopefully cheer him up, but it still didn't work.

The surgery rooms light went off. Kento looks up from the palm of his hands, his eyes red and puffy as he stood up walking to the nurse that was going to announce the news "So!?, i-is she-" Kento stutter's at his words, the nurse had a frown on his face making Kento worry even more "I'm sorry sir.." Was all that he could say as he left Kento there standing in disbelief.

He sat back down and cried not caring if people saw him crying. He couldn't believe it, he shouldn't had been so emotional that day with you.

But what can I say love is always taken away by sickness.

{A/n}: okay the ending is crappy I really hate it, I warned the both of you that I can't write angst.. I'm sorry if I hadn't have enough information of lung cancer, I research it yes but sometimes I would forgot what I research so I am really sorry..but anyways I tried my best I hope you like it @suptherebitches @niragis-right-hand-rabbit

#kento yamazaki #kento yamazaki x reader #aib cast #aib cast fic #angst

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chiaki-translation · 4 years

Text

New Year! Red and White Kakushigei Tournament! Event Translation Ch1-4

Actually, I’ll be going for a short holiday after today, so expect the next few chapters next week~

Short note before the translation part, I actually don’t know how to translate Kakushigei Tournament, it’s like a hidden talent/art competition? If I’m not wrong, it’s a variety show kind of stuffs where you perform unique talents. Few examples can be seen from the cards from this event, things like belly dance, cigar box juggling, ventriloquism, etc. If anyone knows more about what it is, please tell me cause I’m actually not that clear either~

New Year! Kakushigei Tournament Ch1-4 / / Ch5-8 / / Ch9-Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber’s Entertainment

Translator’s Note: I’m keeping it as Kakushigei throughout the story as it cannot be translated. ‘escape game’ refers to escape room type of game. The shrine that they visited in this story has already been visited during previous event in which I haven’t read the story, so do tell me if there’s any inconsistency in my translation.

Manager:

Then without further ado, I will announce the result of the voting…

A has 13 votes, B has 13 votes too!

It’s a draw!

Kumon:

Eh!?

Taichi:

Really!?

Kazunari:

But A is definitely better!

Citron:

No, no! It’s definitely B!

Itaru:

I think A is better.

Tasuku:

B’s better isn’t it.

Yuki:

A seems to be better.

Taichi:

It’s B! B should be the correct choice!

Director:

I didn’t expect this to be a draw. What to do…

Omi:

It’s a bit of a problem…

Tsumugi:

… Eh?

Anyway, where’s Chikage-san and Banri-kun?

Muku:

Ah, you’re right. They are not here.

Azami:

They were just here earlier, right?

Tsuzuru:

Ah, if it’s those two, most probably…

Banri:

… I managed to slip away, but I wonder if it’s alright.

Chikage:

It’s not a good idea to break the atmosphere isn’t it.

Banri:

Well, if it continues that way, we won’t be able to make it for the ‘escape game’, I guess there’s no other choice.

This ‘escape game’ is one that I’m really interested in.

Anyway, that voting before, what did you choose, Chikage-san.

Chikage:

I feel that both are fine… But I choose A.

Banri:

Really, me too.

Chikage:

Haha, so we chose the same thing.

Then, where are we going now?

Banri:

Today’s ‘escape game’ is a little bit different from the usual one.

… Look, this is the game’s website.

Chikage:

Eh, this place…

Chikage:

As I thought, it’s here.

I helped out here during the moon-viewing party before.

Banri:

Ah, that one.

If I remember correctly, I heard that you also danced for the offering ceremony.

Chikage:

You’re right.

Priest:

Oh, you are…

Chikage:

Good afternoon, long time no see.

Priest:

It’s been a while.

Thank you so much for your help during the moon-viewing party.

Chikage:

You’re welcome.

… So, this shrine also holds an ‘escape game’.

Priest:

You came to participate in the ‘escape game’ is it.

Thank you so much.

I’m doing this so that everyone can feel the friendliness of the shrine, in order for everyone to be more interested in this shrine.

We believe for the rabbits to be the divine messenger, there are a lot of rabbit paintings and decorations around, and people mostly visit during the moon-viewing season--.

That’s why, we’re trying to do a special event for end of year.

But during new year, people tend to visit other shrines and temples instead… To be honest, I’m having quite a hard time.

Banri:

It’s a real issue for the temple huh…

Chikage:

True that.

Priest:

… Anyway, what’s your theatre company planning to do at the end of the year?

Chikage:

New year huh?

Most probably it’s going to be the same as usual, end of year party and…

Banri:

That right?

The annual Kakushigei tournament.

Priest:

A Kakushigei tournament huh… I see.

If that’s the case…

Banri:

I’m home.

Chikage:

I’m home.

Director:

The two of you, welcome back.

Citron:

Welcome~!

You were at an ‘escape game’ right?

Banri:

Yeah. Sorry for slipping out during the day.

So about that vote, have you guys made the decision?

Taichi:

About that, we still cannot decide~

Tsuzuru:

The discussion runs in parallel, and in the end we never get to decide.

Banri:

Seriously.

Tenma:

How’s the ‘escape game’?

Chikage:

They have quite elaborate content, it was fun.

Banri:

It’s located in a shrine, but it was fresh and interesting.

Chikage:

Yeah. Actually, the ‘escape game’ this time is held in the rabbit shrine where we did the moon-viewing party last time.

Kazunari:

For real!? So that shrine also holds an ‘escape game’~!

Chikage:

We happened to meet the priest there too.

We were asked if we would like to appear at their end of year event as MANKAI company.

Director:

Is it a performance request!?

Banri:

When we told him that we usually do a Kakushigei tournament during new year, he asked if we would like to show it off as an event there instead.

Tsuzuru:

You mean, it won’t be a play, but a Kakushigei performance!?

Kazunari:

That’s lit!

It sounds interesting to do Kakushigei on the stage of a shrine!

Taichi:

It sounds really fun! I want to do it!

Citron:

… I, am inspired.

Tsuzuru:

What’s with that weird look.

Citron:

The previous voting was a draw. So—

We’ll divide the A and B into red and white group, and battle it out during the Kakushigei tournament, how about that!?

Taichi:

Damn! Citron’s a genius!

Tenma:

Huh!? Seriously.

Sakyo:

I have nothing to say…

Kazunari:

But, by doing that we can take the challenge more seriously, and it should hype out the event more, even the audiences will be more excited isn’t it!?

Director:

You’re right…

That shrine has taken care of us during the moon-viewing party too.

I think it’s a good idea to do this kind of performance once in a while.

Tsuzuru:

Well, it’s true that we haven’t decided on what to do for Kakushigei this year too.

Citron:

Yes!

The chance is here, Kakushigei tournament, everyone let’s hype it up!

Kazunari:

You can show off the different appeal of this theatre company as well!

Right, Frooch-san!

Sakyo:

Geez, fine…

But, if you want to do it, everyone has to give their all.

Taichi:

Alright!

This is so exciting~!

Banri:

Then, we’ll accept the Kakushigei tournament performance.

Director:

Yup, let’s do it!

Chikage:

… Then, there’s actually one more request that I’ve received.

Director:

Priest:

It’s different from the ‘Moon Recital’ that we did during the moon-viewing party, and we haven’t done it in years but…

The past end of year festival… We used to present a dance for the “Rabbit Lunar New Year Fair”.

Chikage:

Hmm, I see.

Priest:

The dance at the moon-viewing party was wonderful, even if it’s only this year, I would like to revive this tradition, I would like to request this from you.

Banri:

The priest also mentioned about a special reward.

Tsuzuru:

Something special from the priest?

It can’t be…

Chikage:

The reward is not a figurine this time, I have confirmed it.

Kazunari:

Oh, really?

Taichi:

What will the reward be~!?

I’m getting even more excited now!

Sakyo:

Even as theatre company, the moon-viewing party was one of good reputation.

I was grateful we received such request that time.

Director:

You’re right. Then, let’s accept the dance offer as well!

Director:

So, for the dance, I’ll leave it to the members here!

Banri:

Yup.

Chikage:

Please treat me well.

Hisoka:

Zzz…

Tsuzuru:

Mikage-san, please wake up.

Azuma:

Fufu, the line-up sounds good.

Director:

Chikage-san, Tsuzuru-kun, Hisoka-san, and Juza-kun, the four of you have participated in the moon-viewing party before right.

I’ll be counting on you.

Juza:

I’m going to give it my all for the performance this time too.

Tenma:

But, the Kakushigei will run in parallel with the performance, you have to practice for both, it’s going to be quite taxing.

Director:

For the details, I will be meeting the priest in the near future to discuss about it.

Tenma:

Hmm? Someone’s phone is ringing.

Banri:

Ah, it’s mine.

… My bad, it’s a phone call.

I’ll go out for a bit.

Azuma:

Go ahead.

Chikage:

…Hmm?

Banri:

Eh, isn’t is Chikage-san.

It’s rare to see you around here.

Chikage:

I was on my favorite curry shop.

On my way back now.

Banri:

You’re a spice maniac as usual… So dedicated.

Chikage:

I’ll take it as a compliment.

Then, what are you doing, Banri?

Banri;

Shopping for the Kakushigei.

Chikage:

Oh, as expected of Banri.

You’re pretty dedicated as the leader of the red group.

Banri:

You said something nice for someone who partly got forced into that position…

Staff:

It’s amazake! Try it out!

Banri:

Hmm?

Staff!

I’m giving out amazake samples!

Would you like to try one?

Banri:

Why not, I’ll take it.

Staff:

Alright, there you go~

Chikage:

Thank you.

Banri:

It’s warm.

Chikage:

… Sweet.

Banri:

Is it really that sweet?

Amazake’s usually like this.

Chikage:

The one that I drink before had ginger in it, I could drink it because it wasn’t as sweet.

Banri:

Ah, I’m the opposite of that. When I was small, I drank amazake with ginger and it was a bit too much, it became kind of a trauma.

Since then, the amazake that’s served in my house was always the sweet malted rice kind and by the time we realized it, it has become a new year tradition for us.

Well, I feel that if I can choose, I prefer the sweet one.

Chikage:

Oh, I see.

Then, would you like to drink my share too?

Banri:

… If that, I have to refuse.

Director:

Then, let’s start the meeting for the dance team.

Juza:

Right.

Tsuzuru:

… Eh, why is Citron-san here?

Banri:

Citron-san is not a member of the dance team right.

Citron:

As White team, I’m going to latch on the Red team’s conversation and check if I can get any useful information!

Tenma:

What is that even.

Azuma:

As usual, the prince is an interesting one.

Director:

Anyway, let’s move on…

When I went to ask for the details, he requested for a casual dance performance for young people.

The acting part will also be similar to last time, and I’m going to ask Tsuzuru to arrange something for it.

Tsuzuru:

It will be a good learning experience to arrange a performance that has been handed down through generations, I’m more than happy to do it.

Director:

About the dance, the Priest will be training you.

Chikage:

He taught us during the moon-viewing party as well.

Tsuzuru:

Ah…

That priest’s training was really a strict one wasn’t it.

Juza:

… When it comes to training, his tone changes completely.

Hisoka:

… Yeah.

Azuma:

Really.

Banri:

On the contrary, I’m actually looking forward to it.

Director:

Then, that’s all for today’s meeting.

Thank you for your hard work.

Chikage:

Good work.

Citron:

Oh!

Everyone, look~!

Hisoka:

… Ah.

Director:

It’s snowing…!

Azuma:

Speaking of which, the weather forecast did say that it might snow today.

Banri:

No wonder it’s cold.

Tenma:

Oh, it’s beautiful.

Juza:

Yeah.

Tsuzuru:

It’s snowing quite heavily.

Chikage:

Yeah, it looks like it’s going to pile up soon.

Kumon:

When there’s snow, of course we have to do snowball fight!

Let’s go~! Take this!

Taichi:

You did it huh~ I’m not going to lose either!

Taichi Special Blizzard Shot!!

Misumi:

Oh oops~!

Take this!

Kazunari:

Sakusaku, you’re wide open!

There!

Sakuya:

Woah!?

Muku:

Make the snow round, then…

Yuki:

A snowman?

Muku:

Yup! We don’t have much snow yet, so I think I can only make a small one.

Tsumugi:

I think even the small one is cute.

I’ll try to make one too.

Yuki:

Then, I think I have a button that will fit a snowman, I’ll bring it here.

Chikage:

The hype is up.

Tsuzuru:

Everyone’s so energetic.

Kumon:

Ah, Big Brother! Let’s play together~!

Juza:

My bad, but we’re going to practice at the shrine now.

Kumon:

Oh, I see~. That’s too bad…

Kazunari:

Everyone, fight on!

Misumi:

Have a safe trip!

Azuma:

When the shrine’s covered with snow, the atmosphere it gives out is quite different, it’s beautiful.

Tsuzuru:

You’re right. I feel like I’m starting to get some ideas too.

Banri:

Oh, there’s a rabbit hut.

Chikage:

The one over here, this rabbit is said to be the rabbit priest of the shrine.

Tenma:

Oh… So, it’s Mr. rabbit priest.

Tsuzuru:

I was utterly manipulated by this rabbit that escaped previously…

Juza:

Yeah…

Hisoka:

It was pretty hard to catch him, it was rough.

Chikage:

Well, it seems that he’s going to stay put today, isn’t it great.

Priest:

Everyone, thank you for coming.

Azuma:

Good afternoon.

I’m looking forward to work with you this time.

Priest:

Same here, pleased to work with you.

Banri:

Then, let’s start our practice immediately.

Priest:

Before that…

Banri:

Tenma:

Why does it have to be us, it becomes a snow shoveling session…

Hisoka:

Snooze…

Tsuzuru:

Mikage-san, please don’t fall asleep in the middle of the snow!

Chikage:

I’m more or less done getting rid of the snow over here.

Banri:

Azuma-san, how’s over there?

Azuma:

Is this alright?

Juza:

It’s a beautiful snow bunny.

Hisoka:

It’s fluffy, it’s cute.

Reminds me of Azuma.

Tsuzuru:

I understand about shoveling the snow in the main road, but I wonder what the snow bunny is about.

Banri:

I wonder. Well, it seems that he’s going to explain later anyway, for now, let’s just continue making them.

Juza:

…

Banri:

No, yours is not even a rabbit anymore!

Tsuzuru:

Somehow, it becomes a mysterious creature instead…

Tenma:

Banri-san’s snow bunny looks like the real thing.

Chikage:

As expected.

Banri:

Well, this much is pretty easy.

Hisoka:

Tenma’s one is just a round snowball with the leaf ears…

Tenma:

Uh, I don’t know how to make the shape of the snow bunny.

Azuma:

I think this kind of snow bunny is cute too though.

Banri:

Tsuzuru’s snow bunny… Somehow, it’s a bit disappointing.

Chikage:

You’re right.

Tsuzuru:

What do you even mean by that.

Juza:

Hisoka-san’s snow bunny looks great.

Hisoka:

It’s white, and round… I’m seeing marshmallow…

Banri:

Eh, wait! Don’t eat the snow!

Tsuzuru:

Chikage-san’s snow bunny… Somehow…

It has a unique shape to it.

Tenma:

I thought you would make a perfect snow bunny, just like Banri-san.

Azuma:

Fufu, it’s kind of surprising.

Chikage:

… If you are living the normal life of an office worker, not being able to make something like this is normal.

Hisoka:

… Be strong.

Chikage:

Shut up.

#a3! act! addict! actors!#a3! translation #a3! event #hisoka mikage #chikage utsuki #settsu banri #minagi tsuzuru #hyodo juza #yukishiro azuma

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

On Your Six, Chapter 5

Day 5: Mission Go- Cooking for @taiqrowweek

Wait what do you mean I switched the prompt days around? Dunno what you’re talking about ;)

(Don’t worry it’ll make more sense in the long run)

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Sleeve

Tai had started feeding him.

At first, it had begun with little things, shortly following that fateful day he gave him the picture. Prepackaged snacks or fresh fruits or vegetables as a healthy addition to the cheap, instant lunch meals he could easily afford. Then it quickly dissolved into tubberware covered leftovers of various pastas or stews, things that kept well and were well adept at making in large servings.

By late May, with the advent of Qrow’s twenty-sixth birthday, Tai arrived at his place loaded with grocery bags, a proper skillet and a determined purpose to make his favorite dish of chicken curry. It was, hands down, one of the best meals he’d had in years.

Yet, even after the occasion passed, the trend continued until it seemed Sunday became the day his stomach most looked forward too. Normally, Qrow would put up a fight about being doted after – Tai wouldn’t be the first omega to develop the habit. The most prominent of whom had been Maria, whose sessions had to be shorter than most both due to her age and the difficulty working with thinner, more wrinkled skin.

But she had also been a grandmother. A feisty one, who smacked him on the head a lot with her cane, but was also kind and worried and constantly remarking on his too-thin frame until he just gave up and let her do whatever she wanted.

But with Tai, he couldn’t even manage to feign annoyance. In part because Tai’s cooking was damn good and he’d be a fool not to gobble it up at every opportunity. But also, because it gave an excuse for their sessions to run long.

He didn’t even think it was a one-sided endeavor. Beyond the innate omega instinct to care for and Tai’s naturally generous personality, there was a loneliness in those blue eyes that told the truth behind all the fumbled attempts to waste time or make breaks run longer. By July, Tai wasn’t leaving his place until at least ten at night.

Neither of them complained about the arrangement.

Then August rolled around, and Qrow had an absolutely foolish idea.

The first Sunday of the month was on the 5th and it passed with little incident or notice. They were back at the first of the designs, arguably the most complex with the amount of color layers needed, so their dinner was nothing fancy. Just simple sandwiches and side salads, so most of their time could be spent under the needle instead.

He’d banked on that happening so that what would happen next wouldn’t have a chance of paling in comparison.

You busy tonight? He messaged early Wednesday.

Tai responded a few hours later, probably when his first break popped up. No. Why?

Come over after work. I have something to give you. He replied after he’d finished with his client for the day, sometime early afternoon.

The final response was cheeky and towards the end of the school day. You’re about as subtle as a brick.

Almost at 6 P.M. on the dot, there was a knock on his door.

“Coming!” Qrow called, dancing between the kitchen and the table to make sure everything was perfectly in place. He gave it all a satisfactory nod, then hurried over, sliding the door open only enough so he could wedge between it and the threshold, blocking Tai’s view.

The omega looked different, fresh out of work. His blond hair had been lightly gelled, just enough to give it a bit of bounce. The casual wear he was normally in was swapped out for a more professional look; pants and a collared shirt ironed of any wrinkles and shoes shined enough they gleamed.

So of course his eyes fell onto the one thing that completely ruined the look with a teasing snort. “Nice tie, Tai.”

“You like it?” He grinned, pulling at the absolutely hideous yellow abomination that was covered in yapping cartoon corgis. “The kids love ‘em. They call me the Funny Tie Guy.”

Oh Gods. “Bet you get a kick out of it every time.”

“I literally can knot get enough of it.” Tai had the nerve to wink as he said it too.

Qrow groaned. “You are so lucky it’s your day. Speaking of-” He swung the door open, revealing the room with a flourish.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much. Still, it was satisfying to see the way Tai’s face lit up with joy as he spotted the modest little table set for two, dinner already set in their bowls and the most expensive white wine he could reasonably afford already poured. The omega looked from it to him, grin growing, “You did all this?”

“Yeaaah.” Qrow flushed, trying to hide his anxiety. He’d never been great with giving gifts. “Happy birthday ya big lug.”

Tai laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you. This is just what I wanted.”

He could have stayed there forever – but he didn’t work himself to death to let dinner go cold. He pat his back, mindful of the healing wounds, and said, “Let’s eat.”

Qrow’s relationship with cooking was disjointed and the spread seemed to reflect that. The fried rice was perfect; it was one of the first things his mother taught him how to make on the stove. The garlic broccoli, more of a staple in the Xiao Long family, had a bit of crunch where some of the pieces hadn’t fully cooked through because he hadn’t had Tai beside him to remind him to stir. Just like the many other easy things he helped him learn how to make when he found out he and Raven had been living off nothing but white rice and peanut butter sandwiches for months.

The moo shu pork was the trickiest and most complicated dish by far and nothing he’d ever even attempted before. His amateur hand left it looking a bit of a mess as they poured it onto the tortillas. Unpretty as it was in presentation and lacking a few of the pricier ingredients like oyster sauce and sesame oil, the marinade had the pork still bursting with flavor.

The wine was there to act as a garnish to make the food seem better than it was. Which was probably why Qrow kept pouring it until he and Tai had split two and a half glasses between each other. Either that, or because Tai was adorably chatty when he was tipsy.

“So, there we are, watching about thirty of these Fayblades spinning around, knocking into each other and some of the cheaper ones are falling apart. Everything is going too fast for any of us to do the math problems on them. And Missy and I just look at each other like we both just realized what a horrible mistake we made. It was only the first week back and I was pretty sure we were about to lose an eye or something.” As he told the story, Tai animatedly gestured around with his glass, liquid sloshing almost past the rim. “We get the kids to back up until they all stop. Then Missy starts gathering a few up, saying how this time we would try less so we can actually keep count – when Velvet speaks up from the back and says ‘Blue wins 124 to 90’.”

Qrow polished off his own glass, setting it on the table. “That’s the quiet one with the rabbit in her bag, right?”

“Mmhmm. She kind of tries to hide when everyone starts looking at her, so I don’t say anything right then. Just take it as fact and move on. But when recess comes around, I pull her aside and ask her how she knew the answer. And she tells me, completely serious mind you, that she’s a camera. So it was easy to do all the math when she basically had the pictures saved in her head. And I’m like, holy shit!” He taps his temple for emphasis. “She has a photographic memory.”

“Ain’t that just a myth?” He asked, starting to gather the empty dishes.

Tai waved him off. “Pfft. Qrow, you gotta stop thinking like the world’s just a big science textbook. It’s more like a-a fairytale! Where magic can happen at any moment.”

“Tai, you’re drunk.”

“I am not!” This time, when he gestured, some of the wine hit the table. He blinked down at it. “Ah, shit!”

He laughed. “Man, you still can’t hold your liquor.”

“You dishonor me.” The omega accused, pointing to his right hand as if it were an exhibit. “I’m holding it just fine.”

That only made him laugh harder, until he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.

Somehow, they found themselves laying side by side on the bed, shoulders pressed together. Tai’s scroll was balanced between the head of the bed and the wall, the display playing the finale of their favorite show growing up, Silver Eyes. It was the height of the final battle. Rosette was locked in battle with Bastinda while the rest of her friends lay, unconscious or ensnared in traps, around them.

“Do you not yet see how pointless this all is? How my power eclipses you all?” Bastinda snarled as she swung her wand down. “You’re all just insignificant riffraff!”

Rosette seemed to find some strength, blocking the attack with her broadsword. “You’re wrong! No one is insignificant! Even the smallest of us has something good to contribute.”

“Foolish child!” A powerful gravity spell threw Rosette to the ground, knocking her sword out of her hand.

“Gods,” Qrow griped. “This is cheesier than I remember.”

Tai shushed him. “Hush, the best part’s coming up!”

He rolled his eyes, but his traitorous mouth smiled all the same. Alright, so maybe this part was pretty hype. Watching it play out again on the screen, he felt ten again, practically glued to screen as his excitement built.

A large shadow stretched across the valley, delaying the witch from striking the final blow as she turned to the source. Up on the hill, sun behind him, was Zwei. Rosette’s little corgi that had been with her from the start of the show. He came racing down the hill, stubby little legs barely able to pick up speed.

Bastinda sneered, pointed her wand at the dog. “Pathetic.”

“Zwei, no!!” Rosette cried, tears filling her eyes just as the blast fired.

It seemed like the end for the lovable pup as smoke filled the air.

And then, with a blast of light, something came flying out of the dust and landing before the witch. The world rumbled under powerful paws as the giant white wolf stood before her, letting out a powerful growl that brought her to her knees.

“I don’t believe it!” Blanca cried from her mirror prison. “Zwei’s a Guardian!”

The rest of the finale played out just as he remembered, Zwei turning the tide of the fight and giving Rosette a chance to free her friends, all of them coming together for one final attack that rid the world of the cruel witch once and for all. After that, the wolf turned back into the lovable and more marketable corgi pup, and everyone headed home to enjoy true peace for the first time in a millennium.

Tai sat up as the credits began to roll, stretching his arms above his head. “I still think it holds up pretty well.”

“Sure, if you ignore the fact they completely sidelined Silver Eyes. It’s only the title of the show.” He snarked.

“Come on now. It’s not about the power ups. It’s about the journey and the-”

“Friends they made alone the way.” He mimed gagging. It was only the motto shoved down his throat at the end of almost every episode.

Tai merely laughed at his antics, picking up his scroll and slipping off the bed. “It’s late. I better head home.”

Maybe it was the vestiges of the alcohol or maybe it was the other’s scent, sweeter and more inviting than usual, that loosened his tongue enough to offer, “You could crash here, if you want.”

“In your bed? We hardly fit.”

Acquiescently, he rolled onto his side, practically shoving himself against the wall as he pat the wide, empty space. “It’ll be fine. And your drunk.”

“Hardly. And I’ll have to get up early to get back home and get ready.”

“It’s fine.” The noise left him involuntarily. It wasn’t a growl, really; it was barely more than a rumble. Regardless, the regret hit him instantly as he bit down on his tongue and turned his face up apologetically.

The omega just arched a brow, entirely unaffected and unimpressed by his pitiful display. Then he chuckled, any meteor-sized tension there could have been burning up long before impact could be made. “Gods, you’re such a punk, you know that?”

“I…uh…”

“Alright, you win.” Tai set the alarm on his scroll with his right hand, while he crossed the room and got the lights with his left. He used the glow coming off of the device to find his way back, dropping it onto the nightstand. In the bits of moonlight coming from the window, Tai became an erotic beauty as he undid his tie and buttons, shrugging out of his shirt. His belt hit the ground next – though mercifully he kept his pants on.

Qrow watched him, utterly transfixed, as he lowed himself to the bed, mattress dipping anew with the readded weight as the omega stretched out onto his stomach. Beyond all comprehension, he had to fight every muscle in his body from reaching for him. The need to bring him close and curl around him was overwhelming. So, he shoved his hands underneath the crook of his neck and locked his elbows.

Why had he thought this was a good idea again?

Tai heaved out a long sigh, mumbling, “Goodnight Qrow.”

He swallowed, voice barely above a whisper as he responded, “G’night.”

Without a clock in the room, there was no telling how long he lay there, coiled up tight like a spring waiting for the pressure to come loose, listening to the sounds of Tai’s breathing slowly evening out. It wasn’t until Qrow was absolutely certain the other wouldn’t wake that he risked it.

Though it felt a bit reprehensible, it was with that same uncontrolled desire in which he found himself scooting his upper half forward, inch by agonizing inch, until the bridge of his nose was pressed up against the curve of Tai’s shoulder.

His eyes slipped shut, breathing in deeply. The omega’s scent swirled around him, sunflowers and soil and bright summer days; a smell that was unmistakably, irrevocably Tai.

Here. With him.

Slowly, the rigidity to his muscles relaxed and he finally drifted off, the scent embracing him as securely as its owner could.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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dragonagecompanions · 4 years

Note

hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.

Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.

No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.

(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)

Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and..

It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.

Keeps the ink from freezing.

Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux, some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table.

It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.

Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.

And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some.

And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own.

Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.

She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.

That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals.

Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!

She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.

Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.

So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him.

It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night.

The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better.

Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.

Good times.

Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!

Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value.

And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.

Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.

The second the herald starts making Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.

Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it.

Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.

-- Mod Fereldone

#dragon age inquisitions #Cassandra Pentaghast #Solas #Varric Tethras #sera #dorian pavus #the iron bull #cole #blackwall #josephine montilyet #Leliana #cullen rutherford #vivienne de fer #reactions #teen inquisitor

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Butterfly Into Chains, Chapter 12

Esme was quiet during breakfast, after the realisation that she really wouldn’t ever be going back to her hometown, even to visit, she was feeling a little down. Even though she tried to think on the bright side.

‘What’s your absolute favourite meal?’ Chris asked Esme while they ate.

‘Uhmm… I guess it would have to be pasta. I just love any kind, especially a tomato kind though. I’d thrive in Italy.’

‘Mmm, pasta, pizza, ice cream. Sounds like my ideal place, too.’ Ben agreed.

‘Anywhere with food is your ideal place.’ Michael jabbed at him.

‘Oi!’ Ben huffed, while Esme giggled.

‘What about curries, do you like hot food?’ Chris asked.

‘I love hot curries!’

‘Good to hear. I make a mean Jalfrezi, it’s to die for.’ Chris boasted proudly.

‘Yeah, it’s certainly mean as it kills your ass afterwards!’ Said David.

Ben almost choked on his orange juice from laughing. Esme put her hand over her mouth as she laughed too.

Michael and David then started singing the ring of fire, earning hard glares from Chris.

‘Yet you still eat it!’ He grumbled.

‘Yeah, it is yummy. Just lethal.’ Ben grinned and looked at Esme, winking at her.

Conversation was much and such the same, Esme had forgotten all about her conversation with Tom in the bath earlier and was feeling happier again, relaxing... But it didn’t last long.

‘There are a few things we need to discuss with you, love. And it’s a time for you to ask any questions you may have, too.’ Tom said after they all finished their breakfast.

Esme looked terrified at that. Wondering what on earth they would have to discuss with her. He sounded so strict, too. Not at all like the other four during breakfast, being funny and chatting away nicely.

David put his hand on her arm and gave her a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t look so worried, Esme.’

‘The rules of the house are simple, love. You do as we say, to keep you safe and healthy. If you want to go somewhere, you will have one of us with you at all times.’ Tom explained.

‘So… I can’t go out-with the boundary alone? To the village or beach?’ She asked, slightly sad at the thought. She was so used to having her own freedom, to being rather independent.

‘No.’ Tom said sternly.

Chris continued. ‘It’s not safe, an omega being out alone. Especially one as pretty as you. But we will take you to the village or beach whenever you like, you just ask. Besides, it’s too far to walk and too dangerous going down the cliffside so one of us will need to drive you.’

That’s maybe not so bad. Esme thought. They were just looking out for her wellbeing.

Ben chimed in. ‘There’s a bigger town about an hour away, it has a cinema, theatre, music venue, small shopping centre, we will take you there for trips out, too.’

Esme smiled. ‘That sounds good.’

‘During your heat, you will not leave the premises, at all. Under any circumstance.’ Tom said, his tone leaving no room at all for any kind of arguments.

‘Ok… Makes sense. And at least that won’t be for another few years anyway.’ Esme said, nodding.

‘Not exactly. We are going to be giving you injections, one that will speed up your fertility. So you will come into heat within the month.’ Tom said far too calmly.

Esme’s eyes widened. ‘Wh… what? Why? No!’ She panicked and stood up quickly, but David grabbed her wrist and tugged her onto his lap. She struggled and tried to get up again, but David wouldn’t let her.

‘Shhh, shhh. Calm down, poppet.’ He held her still with an arm around her middle and he stroked her hair with the other to try and help calm her.

Part of her did calm down, being on one of her Alphas laps and being told to calm down. It was natural for her to do so. Even if her mind wasn’t completely on board.

‘You’re an omega, we are Alphas. It’s in our nature to want to breed you, to have babies.’ Tom said as if stating the obvious.

‘But… why can’t we just wait till I’m older and due my heat naturally? I’m not ready for a baby!’ She felt panicky, like she was going to pass out.

‘You won’t need to worry about that. We will be doing what is natural to our species. Just, speeding up the process a little.’ Tom smiled and stood, he walked around the table and leaned over, gently holding her chin he brushed his thumb up across her cheek. ‘In around five months’ time, you will be birthing one of our children.’

Her breathing quickened, Tom could see the clear panic in her eyes. He kissed her forehead. ‘Easy, love. Don’t panic, there is absolutely nothing to worry about. You want to make your Alphas proud, don’t you?’

She tried to calm down as tears rolled down her cheeks. She nodded, not able to find her voice. The thought of making her Alphas upset did make her feel sick, she didn’t want to do that.

‘That’s our girl.’ Tom smiled. He crouched down on front of her, rubbing her knees while David still kept a tight hold of her. ‘That’s why we don’t want you working, as you will soon be pregnant. So you’ll need to save your energy. And of course, we all still have needs that will need to be seen to. But we aren’t rabbits, as I said before, we won’t be on you every single second.’

‘As delightful as that would be.’ Michael purred from the other side of the table, making Chris chuckle.

‘We all have jobs to go to during the week, at different times. But there will always be one of us around to look after you.’ Tom smiled.

Esme could barely take anything else in. The thought that she was going to be impregnated soon was all she could think about.

‘Can… Can I get some fresh air?’ She asked shakily.

‘Of course.’ Tom nodded and stood up, stepping out of the way.

David released her and she slipped off his lap. She made her way to the door as quickly as possible, as soon as she got outside, she gulped down the fresh air and leaned against the hand rail that was by the front door. She gripped it hard, trying to focus on the cool steel and the wind on her face.

‘Calm down, Esme. It’s ok. You’re an omega. You were always going to be having a baby, it makes sense now you’re with Alphas.’ She said to herself and bent over, head between her arms.

Tom and Michael looked out the window and watched as Esme took a walk around the large garden. She stopped for a while at the far side of the garden, at the cliff edge side. She was leaning against the tall stone wall, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

‘Maybe we should take her to the beach this afternoon, help settle her mind.’ Michael suggested.

‘Good idea. David and I need to go into the office, but the rest of you can take her.’ Tom nodded.

‘Do you think she might be a flight risk?’ Michael asked.

Tom scrunched his nose up and then shook his head. ‘Nah. She’s a good girl, she will do whatever we tell her to. Especially once she learns there are rewards for good behaviour and consequences for naughty behaviour.’

#fan fiction #butterfly into chains #tom hiddleston #benedict cumberbatch #Michael Fassbender #chris evans #david tennant

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