#Raine Sage 01

[krasivydevora]

CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART? (POV 01)

Conteúdo do texto: episódio depressivo, menção rápida a sangue, menção a uso de substâncias entorpecentes, mutilação (acidental) e problemas familiares. Menção a @maximeloi e @mortimersage, e @samquebrabarraco com @svmmcrrxin

Já fazia algum tempo que Devora se encontrava ali, diante do altar da mãe, pensando em nada e em tudo ao mesmo tempo. Terminava de ajeitar os vasos de flores pomposas e a cesta de frutas que em breve congelaria naquele frio de temperaturas negativas (ainda que sem neve devido às barreiras do Acampamento), bem como a pequena escultura em argila que havia feito, à mão, do busto da deusa, com toda a delicadeza que poucas pessoas no mundo sabiam que ela possuía, refletindo sobre a real motivação de estar ali poucos instantes antes de partir daquele espaço. Quer dizer... Os deuses não se manifestavam como antigamente. Tudo parecia mais nublado do que realmente estava e a sensação de desamparo era gritante. Por que ela continuava tendo fé em algo, ou em alguém, mesmo sem ouvi-la assegurar sua presença já há algum tempo?

"Não faço ideia do porquê 'tô fazendo isso." Confessou baixinho, terminando de encaixar a pequena produção de argila entre os vasos dispostos, agora começando a lustrar as taças de cristal que havia levado consigo para que compusessem a produção. Mesmo com tanta revolta dentre outros sentimentos negativos em seu interior, continuava ali, tentando tratar a conexão que restava dela com sua mãe, com o maior esmero possível.

Por mais que isso também lhe causasse alguma dor emocional também: quem visse de fora, em outro ângulo, repararia como as bochechas de Devora estavam vermelhas e seus olhos pareciam brilhar mais do que o habitual, justamente por estarem cheios de lágrimas. Outra característica bastante marcante da russa, que, apesar de todos os pesares, ainda era uma pessoa sensível e emotiva até demais.

"Nem você e nem meu pai estão aqui, pra variar. De vez em quando nem parece que eu sou filha de vocês." Prosseguiu, crispando os lábios por alguns instantes, antes de respirar o mais fundo possível e decidir dar alguma vazão aos pensamentos que a consumiam. "Sabia que ele conheceu uma mulher nova? Kadja. Uma atriz da novela principal agora, ou qualquer coisa assim." Deu de ombros, realmente pouco engajada no que Mikhail andava fazendo de sua vida pessoal; amava o pai mesmo com todos os detalhes negativos entre eles, a começar pela negligência do mesmo em se tratando do suporte emocional e familiar a Devora, mas não sentia que havia uma preocupação mútua do que ela fazia da vida, como ela se preocupava com o que ele estaria fazendo; ou se estaria bem. O cantor, inclusive, já havia chegado a confessar à filha que isso se dava ao fato dela parecer forte demais. O que talvez significasse que ela não inspirava cuidados. "Da última vez que o vi, ele disse que queria ter filhos. Eu só consegui ignorar." Riu baixo, percebendo-se sem humor algum enquanto os olhos marejados começavam a anunciar a iminência do dilúvio: as lágrimas começavam a escorrer agora, silenciosas, demarcando a pele alva e fina do rosto de Devora, que se encontrava baixo porque ela continuava lustrando as taças. "Ele sempre fala como se eu não existisse. E tá tudo bem. Porque nem eu me vejo existindo." Concluiu, com a voz trêmula, ainda em tom baixo, como se estivesse envergonhada daquela constatação. Pegava-se pensando naquele tipo de coisa com frequência, mas era difícil aceitar os próprios pensamentos intrusivos simplesmente por uma questão de orgulho.

E de sobrevivência também, por que não? Devora era um oceano próprio de tantas frustrações, impulsividade e provocações. O combo perfeito para torná-la uma granada ambulante, ou uma submetralhadora incontrolável, bastando um acionar de gatilho ou remover de pino. Se ainda inventasse de pensar demais naquelas coisas todas ao longo de seu dia a dia no Acampamento, provavelmente enlouqueceria de vez. Era melhor não. Só de vez em quando já estaria de ótimo tamanho!

"E você também não fica muito atrás." Acrescentou, posicionando uma das taças finalizadas ao lado das rosas. O cristal sendo levemente anuviado pelo ar gelado ao redor, que, em nada, incomodava Devora. Muito pelo contrário: trazia-lhe algum conforto ao adornar sua pele e fazê-la se sentir minimamente viva por estar sentindo algo além da sensação entorpecida do dia a dia, em muito devido às substâncias que usava sem o menor discernimento. "Seus filhos estão com problemas. O Elói não tem mais o mesmo brilho no olhar, sabia? Sei lá. Deve ter sido o lance com a Sage. Ela era uma boa menina e você poderia ter olhado pelo amor dos dois." Pontuou, numa fala que se encerrou com um rosnado de frustração, até perceber que sua situação não era muito diferente. "Por mim também, porque, francamente. Que deusa do amor é essa que faz a própria filha passar vergonha gostando de uma pessoa pior que a outra?"

Coisa que a fez, subitamente, lançar a taça remanescente, que ainda estava em sua posse, contra o totem de mármore à sua frente. Os cristais imediatamente se partiram, com estilhaços esvoaçando, chegando a atingir parte da lateral da bochecha de Devora. Nada tão sério, já que ela ainda tinha a consciência de que deveria reunir os cacos, ainda que não fossem tantos, para levá-los embora dali. E foi nesse ato, que ela sentiu o corte também raso, mas ainda ardido, em uma de suas mãos. O que alimentou sua frustração ainda mais: Afrodite não estava falando com ela, mas era ótima em mandar recados. Em fazê-la querer se arrepender de tê-la ofendido de alguma forma?

"Incrível." Tornou a rir baixo, entretida com sua própria desgraça, enquanto alisava a parte machucada da mão, ainda sem se mover da posição em que se encontrava: ajoelhada e com a cabeça baixa, sem ser muito mais capaz de encarar o busto de Afrodite após aquele rompante de raiva. "Você me faz ter vergonha de ser sua filha mesmo quando não diz ou não faz nada." Continuou, ao mesmo tempo em que sentia as lágrimas vindo à tona com mais força. Havia tanta coisa se passando pela mente de Devora, e já há tanto tempo, que ficava difícil não acabar verbalizando em seus rompantes de raiva como aquele. "Por que diabos eu tô aqui se é pra passar por tudo isso? Eu não sei lutar, não vou ser útil pra você e pra sua turma de deuses sádicos. Foi pela minha cura que você me colocou no mundo? Eu sirvo pra alguma coisa além disso?!" Indagou, ainda que completamente ciente de que não haveria uma resposta.

Até por isso, é que Devora voltou a se desesperar. Entretanto, não demonstrando raiva agora: apenas uma mágoa tão grande que, por longos minutos, ela não conseguiu fazer muita coisa além de chorar. E soluçar. Incomodada com a pontada da dor do corte em sua mão, e agora com a brisa fria passando por sua nuca; com a textura do solo abaixo de si; com o cheiro das rosas que ela mesma havia cultivado e colhido para providenciar aquela oferenda. Dentre tantos outros elementos mais.

Até o momento em que desistiu da posição ajoelhada e se colocou prostrada; o tronco lançado para frente, com os braços suntuosos contra o chão, o rosto escondido entre eles, como numa alegoria cruel e péssima sobre a forma como se sentia agora. Envergonhada, para dizer o mínimo. E tão desnorteada que sequer se importava com a sensação dos outros estilhaços da taça abaixo de si, contra sua carne; a situação com Sam já havia colocado seu físico e seus nervos à prova, bem como o enredo envolvendo Rain e seus sentimentos. Nada mais parecia ser capaz de abalá-la, se não ela própria e os fantasmas de sua mente insegura e incapaz de enxergar nela algum valor ou importância considerável.

"Por favor, me responde. Eu preciso de você, mãe."

[soapoet]

PJO pick-a-card reading

Grover Underwood; The type of friend you are

01.

Shufflemancy: Shameful company by Rainbow kitten surprise

A successful adventure always requires somebody like you. Reliable and steadfast, able to move mountains if needed. Or tirelessly drill through them with the tenacity lost upon many. You are a clever problem solver, and many come to you for advice. Wherever there is a problem, you can find a solution. Where there is a will, there is a way. You can be trusted to make important decisions or to lead the way. It is as though you come preprogrammed with a good sense of direction and sense of right and wrong. But you are not a bore, though some may accuse you of being a little too rigid on occasion. You like things a certain way, but are delighted by the lighthearted and simple pleasures that life has on offer.

You're protective and readily stand up for your friends. You could idenitfy with the term 'mom friend' or similar. Regardless of your actual age, you have always been responsible and capable of incredible reasoning skills. You argue your points well and without trampling others. Because not only are you on top of your stuff, you have a soft and gentle heart beneath the seemingly hard exterior. You really strive around people who are a little more adventurous than you and can introduce you to new and exciting experiences, and in return you are able to ward off hiccups and get around obstacles that may arise. You're often prepared for the worst, and are rarely surprised by sudden events that leave others shaken. This foresight makes you a rock others can easily lean on when the winds pick up and the clouds roll in. You can be your own worst critic, and refuse help as you feel the need to do everything yourself. Accepting assistance or delegating tasks to others would benefit you and bring you closer with those you care for.

02.

Shufflemancy: City lights by Blanche

My, oh my, aren't you a treat! You may only have a select few you let close enough to truly know you, but those with the privilege to bask in your warmth are lucky. You are very kind and gentle, and really have a way with words. A shoulder to cry on is always available when you're around, and you are quite sensitive to even the quietest nuances of emotions. You are able to read people well, and you are very observant. People often underestimate you, because kindness like yours is often perceived as a weakness. Besides this caring energy, however, you are a force to be reckoned with. Because of your observations, you are very intelligent. You are able to hold space for others, and also nudge them in the right direction when they feel lost. You are quite the sage, as your insight is often priceless and your intuition is strong and rarely leads you or others astray.

Your giving nature may sometimes be to your own detriment. You so easily put others first and forget your own wants and needs. Stronger boundaries and allowing yourself to say no is very important. You can help more people and at a better capacity if you feel okay first. Don't spread yourself out too thinly, and be sure to entrust your own grievances on those who care for you as much as you for them. You're a great example of how the loudest screams are often silent. Your voice deserves to be heard too. Despite the calm surface, you are capable of greater things. Pushed far enough or inspired to fight, you could easily bring down empires. Your resilience is admirable, and very few could survive the tales you're able to tell.

03.

Shufflemancy: Lucky by Britney Spears

Few things can truly get you down, huh? Though life frequently rains on your parade and throws you curveballs, the show must, as always, go on. You don't sweat the small things, and look to the bright side. You find beauty in madness, and have an inspiring zest for life. Even when you do get knocked down, beaten and bruised, you get up again and dust yourself off. You have a great sense of humour and love to make people smile. You're always down to clown, so to speak, and enjoy exploring the unknown and chasing possibilities. You uplift others with ease, and often serve as the biggest cheerleader and hypeman, and have a way to encourage others into seizing their opportunities when they most doubt themselves. You're bubbly with a distinct flare of mischief. You have a way to bring people together and get along with various different people from all walks of life.

Sometimes you are judged much too harshly for your optimistic outlook. You don't always fit in and don't always do what you perhaps should. You like to walk to the beat of your own drum, and sometimes that rubs others the wrong way. Many mistakingly take you for an airhead, don't take you seriously, or underestimate what you are capable of. On occasion you may feel like others view you more like a caricature than a person with more to offer than the silly and goody things you're often known for. Your best bet is to not take criticism to heart and know that those who love you truly don't really view you as one dimensionally as you fear. And as far as any reputation of tomfoolery and attracting trouble goes, you have managed to make it this far by doing things your way, so why limit yourself to the expectations not placed by yourself? You're allowed to fly and soar the sky the way you want, even if it's upside-down and sideways. You do you.

[umbry-fic]

Gerbera

Summary: More than a century later, in a world with no hope, life carries on.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Original Characters, Lloyd Irving, Genis Sage, Raine Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4628 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 13/01/2024

Notes+Warnings: This can be read as a sequel to Shoujo Rei or as a stand-alone, and is told mainly through OC POV and flashbacks. Warning for major character death, though in some ways it's not the main focus. There will be more notes at the end and I'll probably make another post talking more about this fic at some point.

For some reason, the flower dividers I used on AO3 don't want to work on Tumblr but that's the only difference.

~~~

I lined up my sadness and grief One by one My piled-up thoughts of pain and sorrow Are the gerbera that bloomed there

~~~

The chime of a bell was what woke Hikari up. She jolted off the counter, where she had dozed off in the afternoon heat, and nearly fell into the stack of cardboard boxes she had just carted into the shop that morning.

For a moment, all she could hear was the loud clang of the giant bronze bell that had always hung over the Governor-General’s office. Just as it had two weeks ago when it had warned of a Desian raid, one of the worst the town had seen in the past three decades.

The orange glow of flames still haunted her dreams. There were still fires raging in the poorer parts of town, continuing to clog the skies with endless smog.

Before she could scream for her girlfriend that they needed to go, her mind registered that the sound was too soft, reminiscent of the wind chimes that Tai liked to hang on every branch of every tree in the garden they tended to together.

The sound had just been the tiny bell her girlfriend had hung over the door of their shop forever ago, chiding her for her bad habit of falling asleep while manning the counter. “What about the customers?” she’d exclaimed multiple times, throwing her hands in the air. “This should be enough to wake you up.”

Right. Right. It was just someone entering the store. Taking a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, she slapped a wide smile onto her face and straightened to greet their newest customer, hastily tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear.

“Welcome, to the best flower shop in Palmacosta!”

The phrase ‘best flower shop’ didn’t hold much meaning. This was the only flower shop in Palmacosta - there had been another on the other end of town when she’d been a little girl, and according to her mother there used to be more when she had been a little girl. But every other one had closed, their owners either dead or gone with the wind, seeking a better life elsewhere.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice greeted her. The customer who stood in front of the closed door was one she would have been able to recognise anywhere. He was a regular who had shown up once every year since she had taken over the shop when she was sixteen, always arriving when the spring breeze began to blow through the land. The one with the brown hair that stuck up rather strangely, who, in her honest opinion, wore far too much red.

It had been seven years, and she still didn’t know his name. It wasn’t her business. All that mattered was that she fulfilled his order, one that she knew by heart.

(He had not aged a day in these seven years, eternally frozen in his mid-twenties. That, too, was not her business.)

Reaching out for the gerbera stalks she had already cut and left in vases of water, their flowers a vivid pink resembling dabs of paint on a canvas, she deftly tied them together into a neat little bouquet. Exchanging them for the coins her customer had prepared - the perfect amount, as always - she waved goodbye to him.

It was a quick transaction; he never had been one to stick around for conversation. But he lingered in the open doorway for a moment, staring up at the sky with an unreadable expression. The veil of smoke still clinging to the sun had thrown the town into an eternal twilight. When the wind blew in the wrong direction, one could still smell the scent of charred flesh. She had gagged on it just this morning, resisting the urge to throw up breakfast, unsure if she’d ever be able to clear the stench from her nose.

She supposed it was human nature, to wonder what it was that he had lost. Everyone had lost something - there was no feasible way to protect that which was precious, no matter how tightly one grabbed hold of it. Not in this world that slipped closer and closer to destruction, fighting tooth and nail to simply remain alive. And the way he held himself spoke of a heart that sometimes threatened to tear itself apart, regardless of whether the wound that had been inflicted on it had long since scabbed over.

(There were also his eyes - too old for a face so young, absent of the evidence that the river of time had ever touched him. Sometimes she had no choice but to break eye contact, oil all of a sudden coating her throat.)

The door slammed shut, and she turned towards the window, contemplating the grey, hazy sky. When she’d been a girl, clinging to her mother’s legs and helping out in this same store, she had seen the Tower of Salvation appear, breaking into the clouds. She had pointed it out to her mother, jumping up and down in excitement as she declared that they would finally be saved. For that was the Goddess’ decree, and how could the Goddess be wrong?

The sky was empty now, as it had been for the past ten years. It had been so very, very long since any Chosen had even made it close to the Tower of Salvation. A century, of forsaken hopes and shattered dreams.

The lullaby her mother had hummed to her every night when she’d been a child ran through her mind.

A white tower shall signal our salvation…

Grief was a well-known companion. It was there whenever she recalled her mother, whenever she awoke from dusty memories of birthday parties and her father’s hearty laughter, whenever she walked through town and witnessed the extent of destruction they could never possibly recover from.

Some days, like now, it is an almost tangible ball, weighing on her chest. And all of a sudden, she cannot help but fervently wish that her most loyal customer might find peace from that which haunted him.

“Hey.” A hand settled on her own, drawing her attention from the window. Tai squeezed her hand, locks of black hair escaping her messy ponytail. Dirt coated her arms from her time in the garden, sweat matting her brow from the heat. When had she even entered through the back door? “Everything alright?”

She flashed a smile, suddenly able to breathe again in the comforting presence of her girlfriend, relishing the fresh air flooding her lungs. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

The world would continue unheeding. And thus she would carry on, as best she could.

The gentle chime of the bell reached her ears again, and she turned to face their new customer.

“Welcome, to the best flower shop…”

~~~

Genis nearly jumped when the Tower of Salvation appeared, visible through the window of the sanctum. He knew about the tower - how couldn’t he, after all the times he’d attended services at this very church? And if he didn’t, he was certain his sister would have beat it into his head. It was still rather unexpected for something so tall to materialize where once there had been nothing but empty air. It could only be magic, but he struggled to understand what kind. Divine, perhaps, magic wielded only by the Goddess and the miracles she could breathe life into.

He’d never expected it to be so tall; tall enough that he couldn’t see the top of the tower, lost among the clouds. Raising his head to follow the imposing shape it cut made him dizzy.

When he wrenched his gaze from the tower, Remiel had already disappeared from the sanctum, leaving only stray feathers on the floor. Colette remained in the centre, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. In that instant, she didn’t seem like his clumsy friend, who had recently tripped over nothing to knock over his table in the schoolhouse. She seemed like the Chosen - a girl, clad all in white, bearing the weight of all the world’s hope on her shoulders.

Thinking back on this moment, years later, still made his heart twist in his chest. But he had promised himself he would not forget, no matter how hard the flow of time tried to wrench the memory from his grasp.

~~~

Humming under her breath, Ilot rose on her tiptoes to drape another article of wet clothing on the washline she and Hoppe had painstakingly run between the trees. In the distance, a vaguely red-shaped blob attracted her attention.

“Isn’t that Mr. Swordsman?” she said, pausing to squint and make out some details.

“Really?” Hoppe replied, not even averting her gaze from the task at hand.

“It is! He even has the two swords and everything! Come on, Hoppe!”

Ignoring her best friend’s protests, she grabbed her hand and ran over, enthusiastically waving to one of her favourite people in the world. Once, she had asked Hoppe if it was strange to call someone, and a human, no less, who she only ever saw once or twice a year one of her favourite people in the world, but she had replied that it wasn’t that strange. Not for two ten-year-old orphans who belonged to a travelling caravan of half-elves, who had never met any other humans for fear of what would be done to them in retaliation for old hurts that had long been forgotten.

Hoppe was always so much smarter than her. She was so glad to have her as a best friend.

“Mr. Swordsman!” She beamed, coming to an abrupt stop before she and Hoppe could crash into him and topple over like a pair of dominoes.

“Oh, hello there,” he said gently, kneeling so they could each take one gloved hand. “How have you two been?”

“Pretty well. Are you just passing through again, Mr. Swordsman?” Hoppe asked, polite as ever. She wouldn’t have even spoken to him if she didn’t consider him a friend. That was how you knew she trusted you, that she had opened her usually barred heart and let you in.

He nodded, quiet as usual. They both knew he would elaborate no further. Ilot had tried in vain to wheedle information out of him before, and found herself crashing into a solid brick wall. Hoppe had rolled her eyes and hissed that she should stop asking disrespectful questions.

He would not answer what the pretty, shiny gem embedded in his hand was. She had seen it before, in the possession of Desians when the two of them had hidden in the shrubbery, Hoppe’s hand firmly clamped over her mouth, her wide amber eyes imploring Ilot not to make a sound.

Neither would he answer just what he was doing in these parts of Sylvarant, so far from civilisation. Their caravan stayed here, in the rugged valleys and steep hills, where the wheels always got caught and beasts with sharp fangs prowled, because they had to. No humans would accept them. They would be driven out with threats of death the moment their pointed ears were exposed - at least, that was what the adults in the caravan always said. So they endured in the wilderness, always one wrong step away from starving or being mauled to death by monsters. He was a human; he could enter Hima just fine.

But she was glad he chose to pass through here, because it meant the caravan was likely to bump into him. And that meant she got to see him more!

The only thing she did know for certain was how she had met the mysterious swordsman. She had fallen into a raging river, and he had dived in and brought her back to the caravan.

At least, that was how Hoppe always recounted it. She didn’t remember much of it, just shivering on the bank with her best friend half wrapped around her. And, strangely enough, a gentle blue light and feathers. But she mostly chalked it up to her imagination - angels weren’t real, after all! So it would be her little secret.

It was how he’d earned the trust - or at least, the cold acceptance - of the caravan, who wouldn’t have tolerated his presence otherwise. Even now, she could feel wary eyes trained on the three of them, ensuring he wouldn’t make off with two of their youngest. She had never really understood why. He always treated her and Hoppe with so much kindness! He would never lay a finger on them. And he even assisted them with the monster problem!

If someone like Mr. Swordsman existed, then surely humans couldn’t be all bad. Yet some of the adults continued to insist that it was better if they stayed away from him, especially the children.

“It’s complicated,” Hoppe had mumbled once while they huddled together, seated around the campfire with everyone else. Ilot had never known a life before the caravan, had never known a day without her best friend by her side. But Hoppe was different. There were nights when she awoke from nightmares and clung to Ilot while shaking like a leaf, burying her face in her hair as it turned damp from her tears.

It wasn’t long before the three of them had sat down on the grass, playing a few simple games between them. Laughter floated into the air, something bright glowing in Ilot’s chest when both Hoppe and Mr. Swordsman smiled. The two of them needed to smile more! She didn’t like that they always looked so sad…

Tuckered out, she let her head fall onto Hoppe’s shoulder, her eyelids beginning to droop. Equally as tired, Hoppe yawned, mumbling about the familiar bouquet of gerberas carefully tied to the top of Mr. Swordsman’s pack. They were both utterly relaxed, not a trace of fear lingering in their bones - their friend would protect them. He always did, and he always would.

He was staring, again, at the sky, where clouds lazily drifted. According to some of the older women of the caravan, the base of the Tower of Salvation was close to here. It would have been visible when the last Chosen had made her doomed journey, so massive up close that it would have taken one’s breath away. She and Hoppe were far too young to know what it looked like, but surely he must have been there to witness it. Perhaps that’s what he was recalling, whenever he looked so very sad?

She hoped she would one day get to see the Tower too. Perhaps then, there would be hope for girls like her and Hoppe.

~~~

“Colette?” Raine asked, laying a hand on her student’s shoulder. “What are you doing up here on the roof so late at night?”

“Hi, Professor Raine,” Colette replied, a sheepish smile on her face. Turning back to face the Tower of Salvation, always visible on the horizon, she sighed. “I… Couldn’t sleep, is all.”

Shivering, she pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, guarding against the chilly winds. Colette didn’t react at all, continuing to stare at the final destination of their journey with a forlorn expression. Wasn’t she cold?

“Well, you should go back to your room before you catch a cold out here.”

“Right.” Her student’s smile trembled, her gaze falling to the shingles by her feet. “Professor Raine, do you think I can make it? Sometimes, the Tower seems so far away.”

“Colette…”

“I don’t want to let everyone down, Professor,” she whispered, her voice loud in the silent chill of the night.

Her heart broke, to see her usually cheerful student buckling under the pressure of her duty, her bright smile nowhere to be seen.

She had believed in the Goddess ever since she had arrived in this land, trusting in her sacred protection and her divine judgement. Yet sometimes, she could not help but question, why a single child? Why did Colette have to shoulder the burden alone, going on a journey that would only result in her premature end?

“No matter what, Colette, you’ve tried your best,” she reassured her, guiding her back into the building. “There will always be people who remember that, regardless of what happens.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

Sometimes, when she tried to recall her student, it was hard to push past the vivid memory of glassy eyes and the overpowering scent of blood. But she owed it to Colette to remember.

Remember the girl who was clumsier than anyone she knew, who liked dogs and gave every single one a unique name, who had a hobby of growing flowers and making them bloom as beautifully as possible.

Remember Colette Brunel, the girl who had loved this world with all of her heart, and who had done her very best.

~~~

When things got too overwhelming in Iselia, Fisica liked spending time in the abandoned graveyard outside of town. Usually, she’d flee to Ritmo’s place and hide in his room, listening to him pluck at his shabby guitar, the gentle melody making all her thoughts fade away. But when the hurricane of emotions in her chest became too powerful to quell, she would find her escape in the graveyard.

The graveyard was always silent, her bare feet padding against dry dirt the only audible sound. It was the perfect place to curl up against a large tree and sob, fat tears rolling down her face as she mourned all that was broken.

Iselia was a ghost town. Once upon a time, when the Mana Lineage had lived here, the town had been larger. But once the branch in Palmacosta had become the main branch, most of the people had left, not wanting to remain and contend with shattered hope.

Not even the Desians remained. They had shifted with the people, considering there were no more cattle here to reap.

Nowadays, only ghosts wander the paths between rundown houses. Ghosts like her father, losing himself in the bottle so there was no need to think of the future or the past. On truly terrible days, he would look at her and call her by her mother’s name, something brittle in her heart breaking each time.

The graveyard was peaceful, and ancient. The gravestones were covered in cobwebs, some of them beginning to crumble from old age, the names inscribed on stone having faded somewhat. Occasionally, she would spot a flash of gold in the corner of her vision, but when she turned, nothing was there.

There were no ghosts here - at least, none that drew breath.

There was no one to disrupt her from working on her science projects, fingers deftly fiddling with wires as she whispered the familiar lullaby that the wind seemed to hum. When the sun began to meet the horizon, she would pack up and head home; she didn’t want to worry Ritmo.

Over time, she came to realise that the graveyard had one other visitor. It was the only explanation for the new bouquet of pink gerberas that kept appearing atop the largest gravestone, the one with the most elaborate decorations carved upon it. The ribbon holding the bouquet together would disintegrate under the elements, and the flowers would wilt long before winter arrived. But one day in spring, they would be replaced without fail.

The realisation ignited the fires of curiosity that was nigh impossible to quench. It was strange, to think that the memory of someone buried here so very long ago could still be precious to somebody, cradled close to their chest and cherished.

There were some things, she supposed, that would always remain sacred. Like the memory of the day she had first met Ritmo, and all the tiny acts of kindness he had shown her since then, in a world where there was nothing to gain from extending a helping hand.

He had often teased her that she just couldn’t keep away from questions - the thrill of finding the answers was just too exhilarating. But this was none of her business, and she had no desire to be privy to a stranger’s grief.

Still, the next time a new bouquet was left, she couldn’t help but unravel the ribbon and get to work. Uncaring for the dirt that got beneath her fingernails, she carefully transplanted the fragile stalks into the ground. Ritmo had always been better at this kind of task - at keeping things alive - but she pressed on, uncaring of the sweat coating her face and the aching of her arms.

It was a waste to let the pretty gerberas simply wilt. And if the memories were so precious, even if it was to an unknown stranger to whom she owed nothing, then she did not want them to be lonely. The flowers would keep those memories that refused to be forgotten company.

The cycle continued - a new bouquet would end up on the gravestone, and she would tend to the gerberas that had begun to pop up everywhere. It was hard work - it would take a fool not to recognise how scarce the mana had become recently, dissipating day by day. But it was soothing work, keeping her occupied and helping to calm the tempest of emotions swirling within her.

When one day, she awoke from her slumber with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the wind whispering gratitude in her ears, it was to the warmth of kindness, sweet on her tongue.

~~~

“Hello, Colette,” Lloyd said softly, tenderly brushing his fingers over cold stone.

His annual month-long journey had come to an end on the anniversary of the day he’d lost her, as it had for the past ten years or so. Placing the brand new bouquet of gerberas down, he sat on the dirt, letting his wings spill forth from his back, the soothing scent of the flowers surrounding him. All around the graveyard, gerberas had sprung up from the dirt, their heads waving in the gentle wind that had begun to blow when he’d stepped foot on the hill.

“I’ve been well,” he started, recounting his past year, as was his habit.

The first few years after her death had been a blur that he was no longer able to parse. Even after he’d broken free from the fog that had sunk into his mind, he’d stayed away, unable to stomach facing her. The thought of being anywhere close to Iselia had felt like a knife, twisting in a wound that had never healed. He didn’t want to see the faces of those he’d let down, didn’t want to have to see the grief in Colette’s family’s eyes. So he’d run, with no destination in mind, until his lungs had run out of breath and his eyes had stopped stinging, having long since run out of tears.

By the time he’d stopped, decades had passed. Despite his banishment having never been lifted, all those who remembered it were long dead. There was no possible way to make amends anymore, and the thought of that only made the shadow of regret curl tight around his neck.

Even now, he found he could not step foot in the town. There were too many memories there. Chasing each other around the square, laughing when she tripped and sent them both sprawling to the ground. Doing homework with her in the safety of his room, her bright smile lighting up the entire space and chasing away the darkness. Helping her with her garden and receiving a flower in return, heat rushing to his cheeks when he swallowed his compliments for her and directed them towards the flowers instead.

There was so much he wanted to say that he would never get to tell her.

“I met the caravan again. Hoppe and Ilot are twelve already, can you believe it? Time just passes so fast sometimes…”

He had yet to bump into Genis and Raine even after all this time, but he wasn’t overly worried. Sylvarant was a vast land, and he knew they’d visited Colette as well. The first time he’d arrived at the run-down graveyard, there’d been a fresh bouquet of daisies left behind. In the past decade, there had been no evidence of another visit, but he understood what it was like for the flow of time to pass one by unnoticed.

Sometimes, he would blink and find that a whole month had passed. If it was not for the ache that settled in his soul when the snow arrived, he would likely miss his journey.

“The next Chosen… I saw her recently. She…” His smile wavered, his voice cracking. “She looks a lot like you.”

A girl with hair the same shade as gold and eyes the colour of the summer sky, dressed in robes of the purest white, padding with silent footsteps across paved paths.

“I miss you.” He choked on the words, on grief, pooling in his throat as he curled in on himself. He’d long since learned that it was impossible to stop missing her, and he didn’t want to. On the good days, it was a faint scar, and he could gaze upon the most beautiful sights and think about how Colette would have loved to be there.

In moments like these, the grief felt like it was crushing him alive, a tenacious beast that refused to die. One that tore at his flesh with poisoned claws and serrated teeth.

The warm winds of spring caressed his skin, wrapping around him in a gentle embrace that gradually placated the raging beast, his wings halting their erratic flapping.

There was an apology sitting at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed its bitter taste down, knowing she wouldn’t have accepted it. She would only ask that he live, and be happy. That would have been the sum of her demands, and he had done his best to meet them, no matter how hard it was at times, or how many times he fell short.

She would have smiled, cupping his cheek with her hand, and told him his best was enough, surely.

Rising to his feet, he placed his hand reverently on the top of the gravestone one last time.

Some days, he was convinced that things would never get better. Some days, he was afraid of reaching out to others, knowing one day he would inevitably be left behind again.

And some days, he could laugh together with those who considered him a friend, the pain a dull throb that existed in the back of his mind, but easily ignored in favour of joy, no matter how fleeting. He could remember that, even in this cruel world, people were still capable of being kind. He could recall his time with her and look upon it with bittersweet fondness.

Things would get better, slowly and painfully. And he would tell her all about it when next he visited. As always, he would treasure his memories of her, ensuring they would never fade.

“I’ll see you again next year, Colette.”

It had been more than a century since Colette Brunel had failed her journey. The vicious curses and desperation-filled insults that had chased her name doggedly for the few years after had long since died down.

No one remembered her anymore, but those who had loved her, once upon a time.

He hoped that meant that wherever she was, she was at peace.

As he left, the wind hummed, carrying with it a gentle smile.

~~~

With no real aim, I say to a slumbering flower: “Because everyone will forget you in the end, I’ll use my voice to call the name of the flower that bloomed in this world Until my own life comes to a close. I won’t forget you. I won’t forget your name.”

~~~

END NOTES

The OCs are actually just my favourite rhythm game characters placed in this context but they are functionally OCs.

The first paragraph of text is from Gerbera by Yuyoyuppe and the translation is taken from Magenetra. The final paragraph of text is from Reply to Gerbera by Okame-P (a song made as a reply to Gerbera!) and the translation is taken from the wiki.

Gerberas are commonly used mourning flowers. They can represent happiness and joy, but also relief from sorrow.

[sleepyowlwrites]

FTWT CCCLXX

breezy is doing games 'til midnight apparently. I'm very happy about your new click. @blind-the-winds @diphthongsfordays

so I ended up using long excerpts oops

vivid (the potion gnome, 2021)

it looks like the liquid has a mind of its own, like it’s trying to jump out of the bottle. there’s no lid, no cap, no cork, so you cover it with the end of your sleeve as you hold it. the brightness of sunlight is reflecting off its surfaces and making it hard to look at.

the gnome glares at it sourly, before sweeping his cape up around his shoulders and stalking off down the trail, thankfully in the opposite direction of you. you have received no instructions on what to do with this potion. you’re not sure it won’t kill you. you take a tentative sniff and the world goes hazy. rose gold and soft blues tint the ground and sky.

you blink several times to try and reset this effect but the colors just switch out for rusty orange, sage green, a horrid yellow. you wonder if you’re hallucinating or if the potion was just that strong. the gnome reappears in your line of sight, cheat heaving from exertion.

my apologies, he says between breaths. this one isn’t for you. you’re human, yes?

yes, you tell him.

he looks mildly embarrassed. and you don’t have any magic, right?

I do, you say indignantly. I have gardening magic.

the gnome looks doubly appalled. I am very sorry, he says again. but this is not for you. have this instead. He produces a thin, black vial that smells strongly of licorice.

that seems unappealing, you inform him.

it’s for your garden, the gnome explains impatiently. keeps away bad bugs, attracts good ones, and your flowers will grow as whatever color you wish for.

you think about it and then make the trade. alright, you tell him. but what was that other potion?

he looks very embarrassed. it’s a hallucinogenic. great for parties or vivid dreams. but only if you’re a wizard or an elf.

alright then. your garden will at least look good.

orange (the sleepy stash, 2020)

It's raining, like always, and the roses are wilting all over. Summer ends in tears every year, washing all the colors out of world and drowning the heat that has held us in its stranglehold for months. I watch red and yellow petals drift down the road, becoming more mud covered along the way. I usually tried to save a few but this year didn't felt like it. Bunches of old roses in every color decorate my hands and I let them go. No one misses what has always left before.

The vines creeping up the sides of the house have started to shrink; the leaves and twigs turned from green to brown and become brittle. It's the same everywhere. Summer is fading but the world wasn't dying. This is a revival: beautiful, riveting.

I stand under the natural shower and breathe in the seasonal change. The water bubbles along my skin with the heat. My feet are bare on the pavement, scorching and saturated. The intensity of the colored light mixes with charcoal on the way out. I could paint the sky and all the leaves with the hues under my soles. Hot blues drip from my fingers. I drank green and orange and swallowed their souls.

My hair grows out past my shoulders and caresses the earth. There is so much life to wring out of my wings. I fly closer to the sun and delight in the burning. The wind on my skin bleeds deeper with time. I fall through the cracks when the day turns over. The sky paints itself and me with it.

I smile.

bloom (ellipses of thought no.01, 2020)

I emptied my intentions into the lake where I slept. if the morning is ugly I’ll dive back under. are there roses that bloom brighter if no one can see them? I think I heard them bleeding. the artist can wander but if the stories are gone, the lake will swallow me and I’ll drown, and the legend of the roses I will never live down. they died to see me living and I left them to wilt. my intentions were benign, but they don’t exist. I’ll sleep again knowing that I can’t hide my guilt.

remember (city story d0)

“I know,” Jet interjects, approaching where she’s standing alone, silhouetted by the setting sun. “I know you can. If I wasn’t here, you’d deal with it on your own, as you no doubt have done before.”

He stands next to Rune and takes her hand, grip loose enough for her to pull away easily. She doesn’t, but her mouth sets in a firm line like she’s biting back a dozen protests.

“Lean on me, remember? You can do it alone, but I’m with you, so lean on me. Because you can, you absolutely can.”

“What am I supposed to do when I don’t have you anymore?”

Jet has to pause and collect his thoughts after they scatter with the force of those broken, splintering words. Rune isn’t crying, or shaking, and her shoulders are pulled back like they’re what’s keeping her upright. She stares straight at him in defiance, but he can see the scraped out insides of her eyes.

“Why would you need to worry about that?” He tries to say it lightly, but it still pulls tight all the threads of his conscience to say it. “You can have me forever.”

It feels like such a dirty lie. Not because he doesn’t mean it, but because life just doesn’t work out like that. There’s no such luck in the world. He means that she can have him around and ready to fight with her for as long as circumstance allows, but that feels a lot less supportive. Feels cheap, and Rune deserves much more than that, even if it’s more realistic to understand he can’t give her everything.

despair (you, of bone, and I, of bitterness, 2020)

your spine links all your bones closer the more I strain them apart and there is not a one that could be separated except, perhaps, by the visceral decapitation of an inward part the sinew from the skeleton, the muscle from the mainframe your essence is elegant in its demise and I admit even in defeat you maintain your strength from older days though, being of a being long past its prime I see your despairing desire to win back your youth after a fashion - the fashion being to sew back one’s eyelids to keep awake through the endless hallways of building a fortune or a failure -

help (mercenary story d0)

Mirai made her way down the hill, fully aware of the insanity of this decision. She’d known it was a terrible idea when she’d first had it, and it had continued to be mad all while she’d snuck out and journeyed away from home. Her father would lock her up in a great, tall tower if he’d caught wind of her plans, but he didn’t have much control of himself these days. Mirai could only sneak out because he wasn’t aware of everything his daughter did.

It was selfish to leave him alone, she knew that. But she couldn’t take on his burdens, so she had to find someone who could. This insanity was the only thing she could do to help. The north city walls were so much taller up close. Mirai wasn’t short, but she felt infinitely small in face of somewhere entirely unfamiliar.

love (things that have made me cry lately, 2021)

my mom has people who love her, and it’s no surprise. she’s a wonder. she has stood under waterfalls and sunk to her knees in mud, she has allowed for breathing under bluer skies than I’ve ever known, she looks at fire and declares it shall not be disdained for its danger. she will love you until you know what love is, or until you cannot look any longer and walk away, and she will still love you for being because she believes in the sacred beauty of a heart always open. my mom is the strength I sometimes think cannot still be found in human bodies and I love her for it. she is loved because she, more than anything else she has ever given, is one who loves first, last, and forever.

revenge I have like two examples and I've used them too many times

right, rain, release, rest. BONUS: rekindle, rancid. @faelanvance @aritany @tananaphone @wildswrites @deciphered-narrator @akindofmagictoo OR ANYBODY

[travelnew]

Ankai Tankai Trek

The first monsoon trek of year 2024 on 30-06-2024.

Highlights:

It turned out to be dry weather, with lots of clouds and mild sprinkling of rain. The poncho was not used at all and the umbrella was used sparingly.

We had the longest return journey ever, starting from 12:30 pm to 10:45 pm. Though comfortable, it was tiring. Phew.

This blog post is divided as follows:

HOW DID WE GO?

TIME LINE.

EXPERIENCE IN PHOTOS.

EXPENSES.

How did we go?

Grade: easy.

There are well maintained steps made by ASI for Ankai and there are rock cut steps from olden days going towards Tankai.

Base village: Ankai village.

Nearest railway station: Manmad (10 km).

ROUTE: Dadar > train > Manmad > walk to Manmad ST bus depot (10 minutes away) > rickshaw to Ankai village > trek begins & ends > rickshaw to Manmad railway station > train > Dadar.

We had reservations in 3AC sleeper while going and AC chair car while returning.

TREK DETAILS:

Distance trekked = 4.49 km.

Moving time = 1 hr 48 mins (Single way up from base to Ankai to Tankai).

Total time taken = 4 h 16 m (Single way up from base to Ankai to Tankai).

TIME LINE:

29-06-2024, Saturday.

23:00 start.

30-07-2024, Sunday.

01:15 train journey starts (train was delayed by an hour).

07:15 reach Manmad & have tea.

07:30 - 08:00 rickshaw from Manmad ST bus depot to Ankai village.

08:00 trek begins.

12:15 Ankai & Tankai sightseeing complete.

12:30 return journey begins.

13:30 reach base of the fort & rickshaw from Ankai village to Manmad railway station.

14:00 reach Manmad.

17:00 train from Manmad to Dadar in Tapovan express.

21:45 reach Dadar.

22:45 reach home.

EXPERIENCE IN PHOTOS:

Mauli darshan - first day of Wari - we passed by the warkaris.

History of the Ankai fort.

Trek begins - well maintained steps all along the way with a few rock patches all the way to Ankai. The way to Tankai has the olden rockcut steps.

On the left is Ankai and Tankai is on the right in the above photo, clicked from the base of the twin forts.

You will see these ruins as you pass by.

WE FIRST EXPLORED ANKAI & THEN TANKAI.

There are 3 groups of caves that you will pass by.

There is an inscription on one of the pillars of the caves.

Manmad darwaja - the first gate of the fort.

In of of the middle cave cluster, there is a Trimurti gaurded by the 2 dwarpals.

Another fort gate with steep steps to climb.

Tankai fort seen from Ankai.

Ashram of Sage Agastya (Rushi) at the top of Ankai fort.

Snake coils like grass growing more on Ankai fort, than on Tankai.

Now we descend and go to the intersection before Manmad darwaja and go to Tankai.

That is the Hadbichi shendi or Thumb's Up mountain, seen from Tankai.

Ankai seen from Tankai.

What could these circle of round holes on Tankai be?

A temple is in dilapidated state at Tankai.

Ankai seen from Tankai.

EXPENSES:

65/- rickshaw between home to railway station.

1125/- AC sleeper & AC chair car train tickets.

165/- rickshaw between Manmad & Ankai village (250/- was single way journey & 500/- was return & 500/- divided by 3 passengers).

40/- tea.

TOTAL = 1435/- INR in our usual TTMM way.

Enjoy the short clip.

Enjoy the short clip here on YouTube.

[doingeverything]

finding my perfume: the plan

PART 1: Finding my nose with a perfume I know I already get on with: Coco Mademoiselle Testing guide: https://kafkaesqueblog.com/2013/01/30/a-beginners-guide-to-perfume-how-to-train-your-nose-learn-your-perfume-profile-more/

Use this link to assemble a notes guide in all the following sections PART 2: finding my preferences with the PALETTE TEST Perfume testing to find out what kinds of things I like: https://basenotes.com/features/the-top-ten-female-designer-fragrances-every-beginner-should-sample/ The palette test: 1. FRUITCHOULI: FM 32 (Thierry Mugler Angel) 2. SALT: Hermes Eau Des Merveilles (vs. JM Wood Sage & Sea Salt) 3. IRIS: Prada Infusion d'Iris (vs. Molecule 01 + Iris) 4. ADELHYDES & ABSTRACTION: Chanel No. 5 5. LEATHER: Jo Malone Peony and Blush Suede 6. DRY GREEN FLORALS: Chanel No. 19 (vs. Le Labo Iris 39 ) 7. CHYPRE: Guerlain Mitsouko 8. ORIENTALS: Guerlain Shalimar (vs. YSL Opium) 9. MODERN TOP-HEAVY: Guerlain Insolence (vs. FM Royal 809 (Tom Ford Black Orchid) or Flowerbomb) 10. MUSK: Narciso Rodriguez for Her PART 3: Using what I’ve learned to sample some of the FM scents, and see if I agree with common opinion - start to think about families! https://perfumesociety.org/discover-perfume/an-introduction/fragrance-families/ PART 4: Testing the Jo Malone, Maison Margiela, and Tom Ford samples and find my signature scent Tom Ford Lost Cherry TF Tobacco Vanille TF Soleil Blanc TF Oud Wood TF Rose Prick

Jo Malone English Pear & Freesia JM Peony & Blush Suede JM Fresh Wood Sage & Sea Salt JM Myrrh & Tonka JM Oud & Bergamot

Maison Margiela Replica Jazz Club MM Replica Under the Lemon Trees MM Replica Bubble Bath MM Replica Sailing Day MM Replica Beach Walk MM Replica Lazy Sunday Morning MM Replica By The Fireplace MM Replica Autumn Vibes MM Replica When The Rain Stops MM Replica Springtime in a Park

PART 5: Once I've got together a clear view of what I love, notes I enjoy, as described in PART 1's link, I can maybe try some indie/niche sample packs that suit my tastes too, e.g. https://bloomperfume.co.uk/products/heroes-gods-monsters-pack https://www.selfridges.com/GB/en/cat/aerin-best-sellers-discovery-set_R04129938/

https://www.penhaligons.com/uk/en/product/tiddly-whiffs-000000000065195483

or https://www.whowhatwear.co.uk/best-niche-fragrances

or more affordable fragrances e.g. Glossier You, Kiehl's Original Musk, Pink Sugar or FM910 (BR540)

[sprxngsxng]

@otherworldly-healer​​ entangle event starter 💜

It’s with nervous footsteps that Sakura paces the house’s front yard. The estate felt so empty, with most of it’s residents being dead or away. It was rare she got a moment to herself, and it was fueling her anxiety. What could she do right now? There had to be something she could do to help. Maybe if she got someone else, they could...

But what could she do? Would anyone even listen, if she told them what horrors lurked in the Matou residence’s basement? She could hardly believe it herself, still.

She pauses in place, turning to look at the window of her uncle’s bedroom. He was up there, in far too much pain for her to comprehend. If her own training was bad, his must be so much worse.

“... M... Maybe if I find a doctor, he can rest...”

She mutters to herself, trailing off into her thoughts.

[demoniomano]

winterfes starter - @otherworldly-healer​​

Golden Ward and the shores were frozen solid. In Lysithea’s mind, this was normal here but never saw that kind of phenomena like this before. Tapping on her foot with such frozen flooring it is slippery.

Everything is very new to her.

“Does this usually happen every year around here?” Familiarizing is something that this Fodlan girl needs right now.

[mojavemassacre]

closed starter for @otherworldly-healer​!

Six’s smoke break on the steps to the Lounge—sure, the night had been slow but damn it, he’d earned a little R&R—was very quickly interrupted by a rather odd sight.

He saw a stranger, barely visible behind an unfolded map that they were holding up to the murky illumination provided by the overhead lighting. Six didn’t realize that they still sold honest-to-God paper maps here, not when this city’s tech was the way it was… but it made a certain sort of sense: not everyone in this clusterfuck melting pot of a city was familiar with smart-phones, especially newcomers. He’d barely gotten the hang of his and he’d been here for months.

The sight is enough to make him chuckle quietly. Six stands up, crushes his cigarette beneath his boot heel, and saunters up to the stranger, putting on an expression of concern to try and hide the amusement he’s been feeling.

“I apologize if I’m interrupting something, but are you lost?”

[bruh-changbin]

fic rec tag game 😸

tagged by @aura-mp3 @seo--changbin @petrichor-han like a week ago and I just kept forgetting to do it so here I am now 😵‍💫

rules: recommended 5 or more of your own works that you would rec to someone asking what they should read first & explain a little bit about the work. these can be the most popular, the ones you think are underrated, or your own favorites! then tag five other writers 💗

1. read u, wrote u

smth about buff student librarian changbin wearing sweaters that can barely fit around his muscles is so yummy to me 😻 I really had a lot of fun writing this fic! it was for my spring fling collab which I had a lot of fun hosting and I’m v happy with how this fic turned out! there are some fics that you really have to grind out and squeeze your brain to finish and then there are some fics that just flow really easily which was this one 😸 also icky frat boy jisung was very fun to write

2. S.O.S - skin on skin

I have a vivid memory of writing this fic at uni while a literal snowstorm was happening outside and I was sat behind my laptop writing shit like “it’s so fucking hot let’s go to the beach” 😻 LMAO besides that this fic was also a breeze to write and im happy with it! I’m a huge fan of descriptive imagery in fics so I really tried to channel that w this one. also THANK YOUUU for all of the love on this fic it’s my most popular one and all your reblogs make me smile yas so glad you all liked sexy jakey lifeguard 😼

3. ghostface

by far my fav fic I’ve written for channie (I really need to write for him more lol). unlike the other two I kind of struggled with writing this ahhh idk I just found it difficult for some reason 😵‍💫 BUT I really love the insane got7+skz+reader friend group I had sooo much fun writing the dialogue and the dynamics of that insane friend group lol. also I remember seeing a reblog of this fic where someone said that this awoken their mask kink and let me tell you I have never been more proud

4. invasion of privacy

SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!!!!! I wanna say this fic literally only took me like an hour or two to write (it usually takes me days to finish up a fic and be proud of it even if it’s short 😵‍💫) and it was so fun lol. I loved writing it in heeseung’s pov and describing like the inner turmoil he was facing for being a pervy roommate lol. I can’t wait to share part 2 with all of you (I’m hoping to be finished by the end of September?) and you’ll see if heeseung finally gets with hawt roomie (aka reader lmao) 😻

5. 01:19 am

short little time stamp 😸 this little fic is like my absolute dream very intimate but also very hawt and I’m a crystal whore so this really came from my heart. also the sound and smell of rain HELLOOOO my favourite thing ever. also hyunjin dyed his hair black again (I think? or is it dark brown…) so hair colour in this fic is accurate once again. overall this fic just has my favourite vibe love it

tysm yue, sage and rain for tagging me! I’m going to tag @drunkjaked @woniewhite @nyanggk @angelwonie @lix-ables @heetro @polalvsjy @lixesque more than 5 but whatever (only if you want tooooo 💗)

[night-fallz]

XY’s Muse

Based on this prompt

It was raining and it was just the perfect atmosphere for me to write in. I hope you guys like this chapter. And like I have previously stated in the previous chapters, any criticism will be welcome.

uploaded on 01/28/21

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Chapter 3

Marinette was sitting on a bench waiting for XY to arrive. She was nervous. Their conversation last night would not leave her head.

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up. 

He called me princess.

When Chat Noir called her that she just felt annoyed. But with XY, it only made her heart beat faster.

"Marinette!" she heard a familiar voice yell. Marinette turned around and noticed XY running up to her. When he finally reached her, he was out of breath. "I've been looking all over for you." He managed to say between gasps.

Marinette looked at him up and down with a bit of disgust. "What kind of disguise is this!" she yelled at him.

XY was wearing a sage-green crewneck that says 'NIKE' in the middle with baggy jeans and black converse. His outfit wasn't the worst. In fact, Marinette liked it. But what she didn't like were the accessories she chose. He was wearing an obnoxious cowboy hat with huge sunglasses that almost covered the upper part of his face. To make it worse, XY was also wearing an obnoxiously fake mustache.

XY winced at her reaction and meekly said, "A disguise?"

Marinette let out a huff. "I can not believe I am being seen next to you right now. The fashion gods must've cursed me or something."

XY let out a laugh and Marinette had a feeling that he was rolling his eyes at her. Of course, she couldn't be sure because of those hideous sunglasses. XY tugged her arm, "Come on." he smirked. "The faster we get to your house, the faster you won't be seen with a so-called fashion disaster like me."

Marinette scrunched her nose and started walking towards the bakery. "Hurry up." She exclaimed, letting out a small laugh. "I already know that you can't come up with a subtle disguise, but I hope that you aren't slow as well."

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

XY was out of breath, yet again, when they arrived at the front door of the bakery. "You're fast." He let out a breath. “That wasn’t fair. I literally ran to the park so I could hang out with you, then you make me run even more.”

Marinette pulled the door open and winked at him. "I know." She gave her parents a quick hug and turned back to XY. "Do you want anything?"

XY looked at the baked goods and scrunched his eyebrows. "Can I have a croissant and a strawberry macaroon, please?"

He was about to reach for his wallet when Marinette quickly stopped him. "It's on the house." She said reassuringly. XY opened his mouth to protest and Marinette narrowed her eyes and gave him the items he wanted. "It's on the house," she repeated, this time glaring at him..

XY looked at Mrs. Dupain-Cheng for help but she only gave him a smile. "Don't argue with her, dear. She does this for all her friends. She won't take no for an answer."

"My mom's right." Marinette agreed. "Now come on” Marinette tugged his sleeve. “We have plans to make."

Before he could reply, Marinette led him upstairs to her bedroom.

"Woah," XY exclaimed in surprise.

Whatever he was expecting Marinette’s room to look like, it was not this.  

"Why are you so sho-" Marinette stopped talking right when she turned so she could face her room and her face went bright red. She let out a scream of embarrassment. "I swear I thought I put all of this away! I can't believe I forg- UGH!" she let out a huff of frustration. "You think I'm creepy now, don't you." she said, her eyes on the ground.

XY gave her room another quick glance before facing her. She had Adrien Agreste's face everywhere. There were posters with Adrien's face all over her wall. The wallpaper on her desktop was Adrien. Her room was basically an Adrien Agreste shrine.

Yet, XY had seen worse. Seeing her room, it was obvious that she has a crush on Adrien Agreste. He held in a scoff. Of course, she does. He thought. Why would she ever like me anyways. I’m a nobody when compared to the so-called sunshine boy of Paris.

XY could feel Marinette's eyes staring at him. He's been silent for a while.

Marinette probably assumed that he hated her and thought she was a creep. "Nope," XY said, a bit louder than necessary. He winced before he added, "I don't think you're a creep." his voice a bit softer this time.

"Yes, you do," Marinette stated, her hands hiding her face. "You took way too long to respond."

"I was taking in the scenery."

"What scenery?" Marinette asked. Though, XY could hear a teasing tone behind it. "My embarrassed face or my even more embarrassing room." Marinette plopped down on her bed. "I thought I took down all the posters and got rid of his face on my desktop." She faced him and smiled sheepishly, "I guess I was so excited to meet up with you that I forgot to take all this-" she gestured around her room "off."

"If it helps," XY tried to say. "This really isn't that bad." When Marinette stared at him as if he grew a tail, he added. "Trust me, I've seen way worse."

And just like that, the tense and awkward atmosphere was gone.

It was silent for a few seconds when Marinette spoke. "Me and my friend Alya” Marinette wouldn’t meet his eyes again. “We were supposed to take down all my posters and burn them." It was XY's turn to stare at Marinette as she was the one who grew a tail, but Marinette didn’t notice it or she just ignored him. "I'm over him. I actually can't believe I ever liked him in the first place."

"What changed?"

Marinette waved the question off. "I'll tell you later. Now, let's start planning the photo shoot."

XY stared at her for a few seconds, trying to see if she was telling the truth or not. "Okay.” He surrendered. “But you're telling me everything later."

"Maybe Marinette teased. "Now come on XY-"

"Xavier." he interrupted. Marinette scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Call me Xavier."

"Oh." Marinette looked at him with a cute smile on her face. "Well come on Xavier," she said his name in a teasing tone. "Let's get planning."

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

Planning her 'I'm back cause I didn't realize that I somehow have over 200,000 followers on insta' photoshoot took a lot faster than Marinette thought it would.

XY, no, Xavier was a natural at it. She guessed it was because he was used to this kind of thing.

Marinette looked at her pink notebook. It was where she wrote down all the plans they made and the suggestions he gave her. "Thank you so much for helping me!" she exclaimed in excitement. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Xavier took a bite out of his macaroon, "You're welcome. It wasn't that hard anyways, so it's all good."

Marinette studied him. Technically, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, but same thing.

He took off that horrible disguise of his so she could actually see his face.

Like Marinette said before, Xavier was hot. He had a sharp jawline, which brought out his ocean blue eyes and his golden blonde hair was shining in the sun.

If Xavier ever asked Marinette who she believed his godly parent was, she would definitely say Apollo. Apollo was often described by Percy as hot. Someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It also helps that Xavier was a musician.

Marinette let out a dreamy sigh before quickly widening her eyes. She tried to make it look like she wasn't staring at him but it was too late.

Xavier caught her. He gave her a smirk that practically made Marinette melt and raised an eyebrow. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Marinette wanted to take him up on that offer. Instead, she forced out a laugh and threw a pillow at him. "Wow. How original."

Xavier rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

Could this guy get any hotter?

"So." Xavier said.

"So?" Marinette replied with confusion.

"What's up with you burning down all the pictures of-" he gestured at her posters.

"Oh," Marinette couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes. "That."

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft.

Marinette looked at him in surprise.

Should she lie?

Marinette couldn’t bring himself to lie to him. He asked her that question with such sincerity. As if he actually wanted to know if she was okay

Instead, Marinette scoffs. "Did you know that you’re the second person who ever asked me that question?"

He didn’t reply.

Stupid. Marinette scolded herself. Why did she say that to him? Now he was going to hate her and think she’s just looking for attention.

Marinette stiffened. Xavier’s arms were around her.

He was giving her a hug.

Usually, Marinette would be freaking out about someone like him hugging her.

But right now, all she could do was hug him tighter and finally let go of all the tears that she's been holding in.  

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

Note: I suck at writing sad scenes. So don't end up being surprised if my attempted angsty chapters end up being cringy.

Also, how do you guys want me to address XY? Do you want me to keep addressing him as XY or Xavier outside of Marinette's dialogue? I tried to address him with his actual name, Xavier, in this chapter. But I don't really know if I like it or not, so please give me your feedback on that.

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

previous II next

1,528 words.

Tag list:

@iglowinggemma28 @mica-aa @lady-bee-fechin @maskedpainter @snnoww26 @ravenr22 @spiritofchaoticdreams @ravennm84 @heaven428 @finn-cipher @peterxwade24 @aliceofice22 @queenamongthorns @captainmac6 @ladiiwhisper @thezestywalru @mica-aa @runestarchild @theymakeupfairies @para-dox-normal @futursworld 

[softsan]

NCT WEREWOLF AU (taeil)

🖇Forever Young (pt.1)

MASTERLIST

PARTS: | 01 |

WOLF PROFILES | Y/N’S NAMES

GENRE: Werewolf AU, Fluff, Angst (future)

QUOTE: “Taeil lay in blissful silence, a sweet, delicate scent drifting up to his nostrils. He inched closer to the smell, his hand possessively curling around whatever it was.”

WARNINGS: Graphic scenes of violence, Blood, 

Past. 

Autumn brought a wash of color to the small village, which lurked close to the borders of the East. Trees that had bloomed throughout the summer were now painted with an array of oranges, slowly breaking away from their branches.

You glanced outside the window, the dead leaves rustling in the winds. A sigh left your mouth as you politely rested your hands on your lap. 

Your mother combed your hair with an ivory brush. She hummed as she reached for some twine, tying half of your hair in a ponytail. She then threaded a mahogany hairpin through it. Lastly, she parted the ponytail into two strands. She swirled the stands around the hairpin, creating an elegant bun that sat high on the back of your head. 

"You have come of age, my child," Her voice was laced with sadness.

"Must I truly leave?" You asked, holding in your sorrow.  

She bent down in front of you, grasping for your hands.  

"I'm afraid so," She brushed her thumbs over your knuckles.  

The day of coming, they had called it. A day where all the women in the village who became of age were to wander through the wicked woods and find out their fate. 

It was an old ritual, pass through generations. As legend bespoke, the small village was once plagued with famine, the drought drying up all their crops. In a desperate attempt to save his people, the village's chief offered up his own daughter as a sacrifice to the witch of the forest. The witch, in return, made it rain, ending the village's suffering.  

For the village to continue flourishing, a sacrifice must be offered before every winter. All the ladies of age would line themselves, and one by one, they would venture into depths of the woods. The witch of the forest would then pick one woman she liked, returning the rest to the village.  

Please let it not be me.  

You stood to your feet, taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. You wore a cream white dress, which had been hand sowed by your mother. The emerald embroidery around the sleeves and waist matched with the sheer green shrug you wore over your shoulders, as well as the sage silk slippers at your feet.  

Your mother had spent all her savings purchasing the best material she could. She had wanted to send off her only daughter in the best gown she could possibly provide.

"May we meet again mother," You kissed her cheek.

You lifted the weight of the skirt off the ground, gliding through the kitchens and out of the door. You left your cottage for the very last time, a deep twist in your stomach telling you, you wouldn't be back. 

───

Taeil sprinted through the forest's overgrowth, his paws kicking up the dirt behind him. What was suppose to be a routine run with his pack had turned to disaster as hunters prepared their ambush, separating the pack. 

Taeil's wet auburn fur glistened while the waxy moonlight peeked through treetops. He was heading into unknown territory. 

He stumbled over a gigantic tree root, picking himself up. The smells of blood and gunpowder appeared to dissipate the further he wandered. 

His legs slowed, smushing the fallen leaves at his feet. 

"You've come an awfully long way, wolf." A cruel voice chimed. 

He jumped back, startled by the woman dress in the bronze-colored robes. Her hair was hastily pushed behind her ears, her face smeared with mud. 

She circled around him before extending her hand and opening her palm. 

He began to morph back into his human form. Whatever magic she was conjuring had forced him to transform against his will. 

"Do you care to see your future?" Taunted the women with the violet eyes. 

His back hunched. He knew better than to trust a witch. Her devilish eyes a signature for their wicked kind. 

"No, I do not," Taeil responded firmly.

The woman tilted her head curiously. "Not even a little?" She extended her arm, opening her palm, "I could reveal anything you wanted?" 

He shooked his head. Such deals always came with unforeseen consequences.

She chuckled, "You are perhaps four hundred years old?" 

Taeil didn't respond. 

"It must be frustrating waiting so long for your mate to come along. Aren't you curious when you'll be able to meet her?"

Taeil closed his fist. Of course, he was curious. A wolf could spend centuries waiting for their mate. He, like many of his brothers, were plagued with loneliness. After all, one couldn't truly commit to another until their mate came along. 

"Let me say, it could be sooner than you think." 

As enticed as Taeil was, he knew better. 

"Take your tricks and play them elsewhere. I will not be indebted to the likes of you." He turned his back, walking away. 

You peeked from behind a tree, using your willowy cloak to blend into your surroundings. Your hair quietly lifted in the wind as you observed the wolf disappear from your line of view. 

Your inquisitiveness proved as a fault as you slipped past more of the trees following after the wolf. You had heard of tales of the moon beasts, but never you had laid eyes on one yourself. 

The wolf stopped to rest at a small pool of water. He leaned over the bed of pebbles, splashing his face. He let out a painful shudder, his eyes switching from gold to blood red. 

You pushed aside the fern that skewed your view. The wolf had thorns from of poisonous plant lodged between his shoulder blades. He began to sway forth, collapsing into the pool. 

Against your better judgment, you came forward, dragging him back onto the dry soil. The wolf's eyelids remained scrunched as he moaned in pain. You turned him onto his side, examining the wound. 

Taeil lay in blissful silence, a sweet, delicate scent drifting up to his nostrils. He inched closer to the smell, his hand possessively curling around whatever it was. 

Your cheeks heated as the wolf caged his muscular arms around your waist. He nuzzled his face in the fabric of your dress. 

Were all wolves as handsome as he? You shook your head. Such thoughts were useless to you. You were a prisoner of the forest. Your life belonged to the witch.

You reached into the pocket of your dress, revealing a satchel of herbs. Using the water from the small rocky pool, you made a green paste in the palm of your hands. You then dug out the poisonous thorns and lathered his back with the paste. 

After some rest he'd be fine. You gently prided his arms away, resting them on the ground. The wolf's body curled, it's forehead creased. You unhooked your cloak from around your neck, using it as a blanket to cover his bottom half. 

"Goodbye," You whispered, bidding the wolf farewell before returning to your master. 

───

Dawn had risen from above the skyline. A painting of orange and pink was the backdrop for the forest of trees. 

Taeil mumbled, crouching from where he lay. His eyes adjusted to the golden hue, his hands suspiciously tugging off the cloak which was tucked over him.

Where did they go?

He sniffed to no avail. The wondrous scent had vanished. He frowned. 

Was I dreaming? 

Taeil's fist clentched around the material of the cloak, none the wiser he had just met his mate.

───

Present. 

Close to two centuries had past since you had last encountered the wolf in the woods. You were reminded of it at present, during your travels to the outskirts of the Northern state.

Peony, the pretty councilmen's daughter, had asked for your services in helping her dear friend who was bitten by a feral wolf. 

Times had changed. Instead of being engrossed by the beast that roamed the night, wolves were rewritten to be murderous monsters who lurked in the shadows. A bite from a wolf was now consider as sin. A sin of which could one only be atoned by death itself. 

"You should rest," Peony returned from her walk, her hands without the pail of water you had asked her to retrieve. 

"I guess so. There is little else I can do here." 

You glanced at the bandages you had wrapped around a woman's torso, the severe burns from the blaze costing her, her life. In the midst of trying to aid Peony's friend, you were brought along to the second tragedy. 

There had been reports of a wolf hiding in the midst of this remote village. In the attempt to snuff the wolf out soldiers had blindly burnt building after building, causing many casualties in the process. 

Unfortunately, without your supplies, there wasn't much you could do to help these civilians.

You strayed upon the hot ashes, your ribboned slippers covered in cinder. The sky was a fiery red while clouds of smoke dirtied the sky. 

The soldiers had done greater damage than you expected. Beams from houses had fallen while the furniture that survived was charred black. 

The town resembled an apocalyptic scene from a story you had once read. 

You shut your eyes, listening to the embers crackle. Someone else was here too. 

Taeil carefully stalked. He was ready to pounce on another soldier who intended to harm him. He turned the corner, a whoosh of sweetness hitting his face. 

His red eyes melted to a warm gold, his fangs retracting. There was a woman dress in bronze-colored robes, your hair hidden underneath a headscarf. 

He could see past the magical illusion your robes provided. Whereas the world saw a feeble old woman with wrinkled skin, he saw a vibrant young soul instead. 

You stopped, staring back at the wolf. Its fur was a beautiful auburn, while its underbelly was a pure white. There was a familiarity you couldn't ignore. 

Taeil’s chest pounded as he approached. Of all places, he hadn't expected he'd find his mate here. He cursed himself. Why hadn't he followed Haechan to this village earlier?

"You shouldn't be here," You finally spoke. 

You figured this must be the wolf. The soldiers were hunting down. They were also after the wolf's mate, you peered about, his mate nowhere to be seen. 

Taeil's eyes glimmered. You didn't appear to be afraid of him. 

There was a loud sound off into the distance. Panicked, Taeil transformed, draping his arms over you. Together you ducked undercover. 

You stared dumbfounded. It couldn't be the same wolf? Could it? 

Your mouth had parted in surprise. You were quite adorable, while confused. Taeil gently pinched under your chin, "I'm Taeil," He introduced. 

"You shouldn't be here, Taeil," You whispered regaining your composure, "They'll kill you if you're spotted." 

Taeil's chest rumbled. He had half-expected his mate to harbor an inkling of fear towards him. Most humans these days did. 

"I need to find my brother and his mate," He answered.  

Your eyes soften. Perhaps he wasn't the wolf the soldiers were looking for. 

"Then wait until nightfall," You advised, "It is too dangerous while the sun is still out." 

"Are you concerned for my safety?" He asked lightheartedly. 

You dismissed his question, "I must go before I am missed." You tucked your headscarf higher, “Stay safe, wolf. I'd hate to have to save your life again." 

Save my life again?

Taeil's brows furrowed as you stood back up, brushing your knees. 

"Keep your robes on at all times," He quickly advised, “If they find out about your deception, they'll have your head for it," 

You turned aback, surprised. "You can see through the spell?" 

Taeil simply grinned.

NETWORKS: @czennienet​ | @nct-writers | @neoswitchnet

MONI’S NOTE: Werewolf Taeil's first installment. I hope you all enjoy it. If you do, please consider reading the other member's parts. They are all a part of the same universe, and you may even notice some cross-over between them.

TAGLIST: @dawnfeather | @chckencarlyn | @liendoesja | @peachescherryheart | @milkteajuseyo | @wykynct | @edgy-harrie | @moonylvi, @lovestrucked-again | @changbinniez-princess | @jaeshatshop | @leetaesnow | @hoshitaro | @4-sun ​| @2-cute-4-school |

If you’d like to be tagged in this fic please send me a message.

[antoine-roquentin]

The Bureau of Land Management’s latest assault on the West’s biodiverse pinyon-juniper forests and sagebrush communities dwarfs its many predecessors. The Trump regime is finalizing a “Restoration” EIS targeting 38.5 million acres of public land across 6 states – Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, Washington, Utah and California. The 60,156 square mile land area is larger than Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware combined. This wrecking balls’ official title is “Programmatic EIS for Fuels Reduction and Rangeland Restoration”.

BLM’s falsely named “restoration” focuses on woody plant destruction projects that turn beautiful wild places into dirt, grass and often flammable weeds. The beneficiaries of this mammoth taxpayer-funded wildlife habitat destruction scheme will be the 18,000 public lands Welfare Ranchers who have the revocable privilege of holding federal grazing permits. The EIS is a surefire way for cattlemen to maneuver for increased grazing, especially if the “restored” sites become infested with flammable cheatgrass or other weeds. After BLM smashes sagebrush or grinds pine nut forests into wood chips under its new EIS, the agency can turn right around and intensify livestock use in a “targeted grazing treatment” by claiming cows will reduce flammable weeds generated by the project....

The EIS proclaims: The purpose of the project is to enhance the long-term function, viability, resistance and resilience of sagebrush communities through vegetation treatments to protect, conserve, and restore sagebrush communities and to provide for multiple use opportunities. “Multiple use opportunities” = more cows. BLM also states its actions support the goals of the Sage-grouse plans. Regrettably, that’s true. Those plans weren’t based on effectively controlling livestock impacts. Instead, they scapegoated native forests, “unhealthy” sagebrush and wild horses as demons that must be slain or vanquished for the bird to endure, and they gave a big boost to these radical deforestation and sage killing projects.

A BLM modeling scheme (FIAT, Fire and Invasives Assessment Tool) tied to the Grouse plans zeroed in on 5.6 million acres (outside Wilderness, WSAs and ACECs) for various forms of mutilation. Riffing off the FIAT scheme, Trump’s Restoration EIS ballooned the project acreage over six-fold, to 38.5 million acres described as “current and historical extent of sagebrush on BLM-administered land within the project area with wilderness areas, WSAs, ACECs removed”. After BLM tears up the country, it doesn’t even have to seed native plants. Non-native crested wheatgrass and forage kochia can be planted at BLM’s whim if the agency finds “resource management objectives cannot be met with native species”.

Besides bullhogs, bulldozers, chaining, mastication, rollerbeaters, mega-mowers and clearcutting, the EIS’s “prescribed fire” includes broadcast, jackpot, and pile burning and bulldozing fire lines. Doses of chemical cocktails of one or more of the following: 2,4-D, bromacil, chlorsulfuron, clopyralid, dicamba, diuron, glyphosate, hexazinone, imazapyr, metsulfuron methyl, picloram, sulfometuron methyl, tebuthiuron, triclopyr, imazapic, diquat, diflufenzopyr (in formulation with dicamba), fluridone, aminopyralid, fluroxypyr, and rimsulfuron can be applied in both an air and ground campaign – and not just to kill non-native plants. Toxics like Tebuthiuron are used to kill trees and shrubs as a “treatment”. The EIS’s major sleeper element is the transformation of the cows that have caused land degradation and weed proliferation into saviors of the range.

In the Owyhee Canyonlands jackpot burning of ancient Western Junipers, contractors cut down tens of thousands of trees so they fell into ancient trees or covered the ground surface. They were left to dry out for a year. Then napalm ping pong balls lobbed from contractor helicopters rained down on the forest, generating an inferno.

[umbry-fic]

The Revenge Plot

Summary: On a lazy afternoon, Lloyd hatches a scheme to prank Raine. Genis gets pulled in against his will. Colette is just happily along for the ride.

Will Raine figure it out? Will the three succeed?

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Genis Sage, Raine Sage Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Genis Sage, Genis Sage & Raine Sage Rating: G Word Count: 4712 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 01/04/2021

Notes: A fun little gen fic for April Fool's Day featuring the Iselia trio!

~~~

“We would have tricked Professor Raine and gotten our revenge at the same time!” Lloyd finished. His voice, the scratching of a singular pen nib against paper, the occasional flap of pages turning and the creaking of his chair were the only sounds filling the quiet classroom.

The three of them, Lloyd, Genis and Colette, were the only ones still left in the Iselia Schoolhouse. The sun was setting, casting the entire room in different shades of muted reds and oranges. The shadows cast by the trees outside the windows stretched across the desks, resembling gnarly, bent fingers that shifted. Lloyd and Colette were scrambling to finish the homework that was due tomorrow and had agreed to stay back in the classroom after school to finish it. Genis had no reason to stay. He’d finished the next two week’s worth of homework.

Genis had crossed his arms and claimed he wanted to do supplementary exercises. So he would be staying as well!

Much to Genis’ relief, the two of them hadn’t tried to refute this reason. If they had, Genis would have shot back with an excuse of pitying the two of them for not having the tenacity to even finish one page of exercises. That would have been enough to shut them up. Hopefully. That was the plan, at least.

Colette nodded eagerly, gaze fixed on Lloyd and chin nestled on her palm, having long given up on actually doing her math homework. The textbook on her table had been opened to the page of multiplication practices for the last ten minutes. Not a single word had been written on it, her pen instead laying uncapped next to it, having left a trail of ink down its side. The time had instead been spent raptly listening to Lloyd while experiencing a growing sense of awe, eyes widening as he went through his plan. It sounded smart! Who would have thought?

Genis, on the other hand, had his head buried in his textbook and was doing his best to ignore Lloyd’s continuous talking, pen scribbling down equation after equation. But he couldn’t tune it out completely, and it was starting to get very annoying.

Lloyd, who was sitting in his chair backwards so he was facing his friends, arms hugging the backrest and legs swinging in the air, grinned. “So? What do you think, Genis?”

With an annoyed huff, Genis loudly snapped his textbook closed and slammed it upright on the desk, glaring at Lloyd over it. “I’ve only been half-listening to your mindless yammering and even then I can tell your plan is ridiculous. You should be doing your homework, not being a distraction! Do you want to get detention tomorrow?”

Lloyd winced at the thought of spending a beautiful sunny afternoon trapped in here again, writing “I’m sorry” over and over on the blackboard until his fingers were completely smudged white with chalk and so raw he thought they might bleed. It would be great if he never had to go through that again for the rest of his life.

“I couldn’t focus. It’s not my fault all of the math questions are impossible.” Lloyd pouted, starting to rock the chair on its legs. Colette worried, with how far back Lloyd was tipping the chair, that he might just fall over. “So I came up with this instead.”

Genis groaned, resisting the urge to chuck the textbook at Lloyd’s head. He would leave the physical violence to his sister. “If you can come up with such a ridiculous prank, you have the time to finish your homework.”

“I was asking you what you thought of it! You still haven’t answered.”

“I think it’s quite good!” Colette spoke up. “But Lloyd, your -”

“Explain to me exactly how you’re going to clear this classroom of students on a school day?” Genis asked smugly, interrupting Colette’s attempt to warn Lloyd of his dangerous chair rocking behaviour. He could bet Lloyd hadn’t thought of that. This should be enough to stump Lloyd and get him to rethink pulling a prank on Raine. Why was he even trying to do that anyway? Was he asking for death?

“That’s where you come in, Genis,” Lloyd replied, stretching his arm out to point straight at Genis’ face. Genis gaped. What? Himself? How did he even play into this idiotic scheme?

“You get to go around town the night before telling everyone that school’s off the next day. You’re Professor Raine’s brother, so everyone will believe you!”

“I - H - how did you even come up with that?” Genis was at a loss for words. The worst thing was that Lloyd’s idea made sense. What had the world come to for such a miracle to occur?

Did Lloyd have a brain somewhere in that ridiculously thick skull of his?

“Dunno, just thought of it,” Lloyd said nonchalantly, further rendering Genis speechless. Just thought of it??? “So, you in?”

“No!” Genis protested. “Do whatever you want, but I’m not pranking my sister!” He wasn’t insane enough to agree to this. If they pulled this off, what would Raine do in retaliation? Make Lloyd carry four buckets of water instead of two? A week’s worth of detention? Make him sleep in the dark? Just the thought of it was enough to make him want to cower.

The smile on Lloyd’s face wasn’t dropping, however. It was unnerving. Did Lloyd still think he could be convinced? How?

“Then you leave me no choice.” Lloyd tipped the chair towards Genis, leaning closer over the desk. Genis scooted his chair back, attempting to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. “I invoke the sports meet. You remember, don’t you?”

Colette cringed at the increasingly loud creaking sounds coming from the chair, the harsh sound almost deafening to her. Did the other two not notice it? Were they too engrossed in their conversation? Was that a crack running down one of the chair legs?!!

“The sports… meet...” Genis trailed off as realisation hit him like a lightning strike.

Every year, at the insistence of the mayor, the school held a sports meet where the students were divided into two groups and pitted against each other in various activities. It was sweaty, loud, competitive, and Genis hated it with a passion. Every student needed to be assigned at least one activity, and no matter how many times he had pleaded with his sister, she had refused to budge on the matter. School regulations were school regulations, she had said, and what kind of school teacher would she be if she let him off easy just for being her brother?

After three years of embarrassing himself and letting the whole world know of his absolute lack of athletic abilities, he had grown tired of it. At last month’s edition of the annual sports meet, he had brokered a deal with Lloyd - take his spot at the 100-metre sprint, and Lloyd could have one favour, any favour.

Thank the Goddess Raine hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Either that, or she had chosen to stay silent.

“You’re using your favour for this?” Genis spluttered, starting to panic. “I thought you were going to ask me to do your homework for a week or something!”

To be honest, Genis had completely forgotten he’d ever made that promise. He had expected Lloyd to call in his favour within a day, but there had been complete silence from Lloyd’s end over this matter. For it to return now, of all times, to bite him in the back…

“A promise is a promise. Right, Genis?”

Genis remained silent. There was no way to refute that statement. He had, indeed, made that promise. And Raine had always told him, since young, to never renege on them.

Lloyd had, for once, well and truly cornered him. Had he planned this all along?

No, it couldn’t be. Genis refused to believe it. Lloyd wasn’t smart enough to play that long of a game. It was just a lucky coincidence.

Lloyd grinned, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, causing the chair’s front two legs to come off the floor. “So I guess that’s settled! It's a great opportunity to get Professor Raine to loosen up a little! We’ll deal with the details some other time. As for the tomatoes, Colette, can you borrow some from your grandmother’s garden?”

Colette nodded, frowning at what she was very certain was a crack on the chair’s leg. “I can ask Grandma; she’d probably give some to me without asking any questions. But Lloyd, you should stop rocking your chair.”

Lloyd blinked at Colette in confusion, cocking his head. “Huh? Why -”

A resounding “crack” echoed throughout the classroom as one of the chair’s legs split in half in an explosion of wood splinters, pitching the chair to the side and throwing Lloyd onto the floor.

“Lloyd!” Colette cried in worry, running over and kneeling next to the groaning boy on the floor. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Do I…"

Genis paid no attention to any of this, sinking down in his seat and putting his head in his hands. He was embroiled in this ridiculous scheme now, definitely for the worst. He could only hope that Lloyd failed in his machinations or came to his senses.

Even if they successfully pulled this off, the only result awaiting them were the graves they would have dug for themselves.

He supposed he had his answer now.

The fact that Lloyd had ever considered trying to prank his sister proved, once and for all, that he was a mindless idiot.

~~~

One Week Later

Genis stuffed his feet into his shoes, staring out the window at the unnaturally dark sky. It was the middle of summer, and on any other day, the sun would have been happily smiling down at the world, even in the early evening.

Just his luck that the day before Lloyd’s… revenge plot (calling it that left a sour taste in his mouth), the sun would be hidden behind a barrage of storm clouds, thunder faintly rumbling as lightning lit up the sky.

He would hate getting caught in the rain while running around Iselia doing Lloyd’s bidding. It’d just be rubbing salt on an already open wound.

Genis sighed. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over and done with. Lloyd had at least promised him that he wouldn’t need to turn up tomorrow for the actual deed. Maybe Raine would never know he was part of this!

...

No. There was absolutely no way Raine wouldn’t figure it out. No matter what, he would be dead by the end of tomorrow.

Speaking of Raine, his sister should be preparing for tomorrow’s lesson right about now. She almost always stuck to her daily routine - eat breakfast (prepared by him), head to the schoolhouse, conduct her lessons, eat her packed lunch (also prepared by him), organise any necessary detention or supplementary sessions, come home, eat dinner (cooked by him, what else did you expect?), prepare tomorrow’s lessons… She carved out some time, especially on weekends, to read up on ruins and, of course, spend some time with him. They could talk about anything: more complicated magic incantations, the most recent book they had read, the insane things Lloyd got up to… Countless topics, skirting around the one thing they wouldn’t bring up unless they had to.

But they were both creatures of routine - perhaps that provided a much-needed sense of security to combat the ever-present fear that their deepest secret would be unearthed, here, in a place where they had finally found peace, much like it had before. History always repeated itself. That was how the saying went.

Maybe Raine did need to loosen up a little.

Well. He would get going. There should be no chance of being caught now and raising Raine’s suspicions -

A hand landed on his shoulder, causing his heart to jump out of his chest as a familiar voice was heard from behind him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Holding his breath and praying his absolute hardest to the Goddess, Genis turned around slowly, trying to maintain a straight face. Raine stared down at him, unimpressed, one eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms, awaiting his answer. How had she even gotten behind him without making any sound?

Lloyd had laughed at him when he’d said, once, that Raine was a silent predator. But you had to be there to believe it! She had struck terror into his heart ever since he was seven, when she’d caught him stealing from the cookie jar and grounded him for a whole week.

He’d been forced to eat Raine’s cooking for that entire period. He sometimes still had nightmares about the writhing tentacles he’d had to consume.

“I was going over to Lloyd’s to help him with math again. You know how he is with fractions.” He was going to have to congratulate himself later for keeping a stable voice. He had no idea how he was managing it.

“At this time of day?” Raine replied, frowning as she glanced out the window.

Steeling himself to come up with some plausible excuse, Genis opened his mouth -

“I’m worried it’ll rain while you’re out there. At least take a raincoat. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

“Oh, right.” Genis accepted the raincoat his sister had grabbed off the clothes rack and stuffed into his hands, staring down at the grey plastic, a small smile forming on his face. “Thanks. I’ll… get going, then.”

“Take care. And don’t stay out too late, alright?” Raine opened the door, stepping back. “I will punish you if you turn up to school late tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just wake me up and take me with you?” Genis complained, stepping out of the house, still smiling.

“No. My answer is final. I will not accept any dissent over this issue.” Raine leaned against the doorframe, the corner of her mouth curving upwards slightly.

Genis waved goodbye to his sister, setting off down the footpaths of Iselia towards his closest schoolmate’s house. It’s not like he expected Raine to change her tune.

Stubborn, overly strict, prone to violence, but diligent, protective and caring. That was his sister.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

The Next Day

Raine figured out something was wrong the moment she stepped foot into the schoolyard.

Shutting the book on the Balacruf Mausoleum that her head had been buried in just moments before, she closed her eyes and tried to identify the source for the sense of wrongness that had arisen.

Come on. Concentrate…

Ah. That was it. The complete silence.

Teaching at a schoolhouse that catered to children ranging from the ages of 8 to 16 meant there was always some noise, from somewhere, reaching her ears. Excited chattering, the scraping of desk legs against the floor, the creaking of old wooden boards that supported the weight of children, chasing each other around. One got used to it until it became nothing more than background noise that she didn't actively register. Nonetheless, it was a collection of sounds that brought comfort.

All that sound, carrying the weight of life with it, was gone now, drained from the schoolhouse and leaving it dark and soulless. The children, playing skip rope, catching or hopscotching in the dirt of the schoolyard until she shooed them in for class were absent as well.

There was not a single hint of life. The air was still. Silence dominated.

Was there no one here at all? Hmm.

She had suspected something was off ever since last night. Genis seldom left the house so late, and for Lloyd to do his homework at that time of day? It was unbelievable. Nothing, no force in this mortal world, could make Lloyd Irving finish his homework. It infuriated her to no end, but… It was also slightly endearing; part of what defined one of her beloved students.

So this was what Genis had been up to last night. She’d contemplated asking for the truth or just forbidding him from leaving, but had seen no point in doing it. He was no longer the tiny, vulnerable bundle she had cradled in both love and fear, wondering if they would survive, wondering how she could ever create a happy life for her brother. Genis would be turning 12 next year, growing into himself. Maybe this was part of a rebellious phase. Who knew?

That thought brought with it both a sense of loss and a dizzy, wondrous, beautiful sense of joy.

Not too long ago, she would have never thought they would get this far.

Raine reached the door to the schoolhouse, trying the door handle and finding it coated in some... thick substance. She brought her hand back, red, viscous liquid dripping lazily onto the dirt. Now that she looked properly, there were random puddles of this same liquid scattered haphazardly around the school grounds, almost like it had overflowed from some container being carried across.

The consistency and the earthy smell… There were even still small chunks swimming in the liquid. Tomato paste. Definitely.

That meant Colette had to be involved as well.

Firstly, High Priestess Phaidra had the best garden in Iselia, which, impressively, she somehow maintained on top of all her duties. All the children got their tomatoes from there for their fake Halloween blood.

Secondly, Lloyd would not have survived mashing the number of tomatoes required to produce this amount of paste. Not when, on Halloween night, he had hidden behind Colette every time one of the children, dressed up as vampires with fake tomato blood dripping from their fake fangs, had passed by. It was a ridiculous sight, since Lloyd was taller than Colette, but Colette didn’t seem to mind, smiling and letting out a little giggle whenever Lloyd gripped her shoulder, hissing in her ear about the evils of tomatoes.

Colette deserved to have fun as well before everything came to an end. She was just as much a child, and yet she had to shoulder a heavier burden than even Raine had at that age. The most Raine could do was give Colette the childhood she herself hadn’t had the chance to experience.

Lloyd and Genis were already doing a good job of that. Raine was thankful, but at the same time…

All she could hope for was that they made the best of memories together, memories that wouldn’t fade like those she had of her parents, that remained forever in the most pristine of conditions. In the end, that would be all that remained. Would it be enough? Would it ever be enough to fill the gap left behind by a beloved person, forever gone and never to return?

Walking into the dim building, Raine spotted the trail of red footprints leading straight into one of the classrooms.

This was far too obvious, wasn’t it? What was all the red supposed to represent? Blood?

Were they trying to make her believe the schoolhouse was haunted? She would never fall for that. The “blood” itself was amateur at best; it didn’t have the right texture to masquerade as the real thing.

That was strange. Genis was most likely the one who had boiled the tomatoes. Lloyd couldn’t operate a stove, and Colette might have been able to do it, but not without potentially causing a fire.

Genis should have known the proper technique, but yet…

Might as well indulge them. Children, living the time of their life. She couldn’t begrudge them that. Honestly, it was cute to see their honest attempt at a prank.

Though she would still have to punish them afterwards. She was looking forward to that.

“Lloyd!” She called, placing her book down on one of the dressers lining the corridor and taking a single step into the classroom. “Come out, would you?”

~~~

Earlier that week

“The plan’s simple, really,” Lloyd said from his position at the sink, scrubbing his arms with soap for the third time, the skin starting to turn pink from all the rubbing. Colette and Genis were sat at the dining table with a vat of chunky tomato paste in front of them; Colette staring at Lloyd in concern while Genis stared in disbelief.

All three of them had taken part in the tomato mashing after Genis had boiled the tomatoes, making use of the hammers that Lloyd had… borrowed. Colette had asked if it was okay to use Dirk’s tools on fruits and if it would stain, but Lloyd had shrugged and said that it would be fine and they’d just wash them afterwards. “Dad will never notice” had been Lloyd’s exact words. Genis was starting to doubt that, considering the hammers were now a wonderful shade of red, with stray pieces of tomato pulp hanging on by their dear life.

Surely the tomato paste had been washed off on his first trip to the sink, as it had been for the two of them. Lloyd was making a huge deal out of this. He’d been wincing throughout the entire mashing session and had taken great care to dodge the occasional squirts of liquid.

Lloyd really hated tomatoes that much, huh?

“I know you asked why we’re making the paste so chunky,” Lloyd continued.

Yes, Genis had indeed asked that question. If they were trying to convince Raine of supernatural activity, they were doing a terrible job. That’s what Lloyd had said in the classroom last week, right?

Raine wasn’t even the type to get scared. He was.

“That’s because it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t need to be convincing. In fact, we want Professor Raine to think she’s got it all figured out!”

~~~

Now

Raine felt her foot catch through a loop of something thin and fragile, experiencing resistance as the loop went taut, a loud scraping sound coming from behind her.

Ah. She’d thought it all figured out, and let her guard down as a result. It had been a trap all along, and she’d fallen head-first into it.

Impressive. She’d have to congratulate whoever came up with this later.

Raine barely had enough time to glance up and see the other end of the string now looped around her foot, climbing up the wall and tied to the handle of a washtub resting on a ceiling beam right by the door, before the chain-reaction of tugging string and gravity caused the washtub to tip over and release a veritable waterfall of red liquid.

It all crashed down on her, pelting down on her clothes and face at high pressures. Now, instead of just one of her hands, every centimetre of her was covered with tomato paste. It was heavier than expected, her sleeves weighed down and drooping towards the floor.

Ugh, the earthy smell was nearly overpowering at this intensity, nor was the mushy feeling pleasant. Was this why Lloyd hated tomatoes? She could understand a little now… Though only when there were this many.

Thank the Goddess she hadn’t brought her book in with her. Otherwise, she’d have to murder the three of them.

~~~

“Towel?” Genis offered, crawling out from his hiding place under one of the tables with a folded towel in his hands. Raine was standing absolutely still with her head angled towards the floor and hadn’t moved for a full minute, clothes dripping liquid onto the floor and forming tiny puddles. The washtub was balancing rather precariously on the edge of the ceiling beam. He hoped it wouldn’t fall over and smack Raine on the head.

Lloyd was sitting cross-legged in the corner of the classroom, snickering. Even Colette, sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest next to him, couldn’t keep a smile off her face.

Raine raised her head, and Genis was relieved to see that his sister was, indeed, smiling. He had decided, in the end, to come along of his own volition. He wanted to see the results for himself.

It's been some time since he's seen a smile so wide on his sister's face.

“Thank you.” Raine took the towel, moving away from the shadow of the washtub as she began to towel her hair. The clothes were most likely hopeless. There’d be no cleaning them without a good wash. “Congratulations. You tricked me. Did you come up with this, Genis?”

“No, I did,” Lloyd interjected, waving from his corner. “Did you like it?”

“So you can be intelligent if you apply yourself. Surprising,” Raine muttered, a glint beginning to appear in her eyes. Colette’s smile was beginning to drop, though Lloyd hadn’t yet noticed.

“Ha! Well, now you know how terrible tomatoes are. And this is revenge for all the buckets of water you’ve made me carry!”

Genis took a step back, sweat beginning to form on his brow as he recognised the murderous expression on his sister’s face. Time for the grave, then?

It was inevitable.

“We’re even now, I assume?” Raine towered over Lloyd, smiling sinisterly. “Well, that’s good to know, because I have the most special idea planned for you! All of you!”

Yep. Yep, they were dead. So dead, and there was nothing they could do about it.

As he'd said to Lloyd at the very beginning, this had been a terrible idea.

But... Genis can't quite say, anymore, that he regretted participating in it.

~~~

In the end, Lloyd and Genis were forced to clean the entire schoolhouse from top to bottom. “It has to be sparkly clean,” Raine had warned, or they would really be in for it.

Colette, it turned out, had church duties to attend to that day. Not even Raine, in her position of authority, could touch the Chosen. Colette had apologised profusely to both of them, telling them that she would be back as soon as she was done. After all, she had played her part as well and should accept her due punishment.

So the two of them had slaved over walls, the ceiling, and furniture, armed with an army of rags and a tiny bucket of water that they had to keep refilling. It was toiling work, further slowed down by Lloyd’s staunch refusal to touch the tomato paste. Lloyd was the only one who could reach the ceiling! He needed to stop being so squeamish and just do it!

Admittedly, there were also moments when Genis had thrown the rag into the bucket a little harder than necessary, causing a splash of droplets that hit Lloyd and elicited vicious water-splashing battles. He was trying to express his earlier frustrations at getting dragged into this in the first place (even though he had long changed his mind over the whole thing). At least water would dry on its own.

Colette turned up later in the day with a tray of chocolate muffins that her grandmother had freshly baked, warm to the touch and which melted in the mouth. Genis savoured one happily. He would never pass up Head Priestess Phaidra's baked goodies; they were absolutely amazing and didn't come along that often. Genis watched in amusement as Colette laughed at the messy way Lloyd ate, chastising him in a soft voice and gently wiping the crumbs off the corner of his mouth.

After the wonderful break, it was right back to work. Colette took up a rag herself and began cheerily cleaning, chatting with the both of them and joining in the water fights with an enthusiastic grin until they were all giggling uncontrollably. At this point, Genis could come up with no excuse for his behaviour. But it didn't matter.

Even Raine turned up again, wearing a new change of clothes, and helped clean the floor with a mop. His sister slipped in the occasional berating, which Lloyd enthusiastically retorted as Genis sighed at the usual childish display (ignoring his own behaviour), as Colette covered her mouth and laughed.

The schoolhouse was awash with warm sunlight, laughter alive in each of their chests. Joy fluttered in the air, and the memory of that day was a warm, golden sphere to be cradled and cherished forever.

All in all, Lloyd declared it a success.

Genis was inclined to agree.

[msclaritea]

”If you ever wonder whether the political process can yield real results for the environment, President Barack Obama has your answer. Having a leader committed to clean energy, climate progress, and protecting our natural heritage in the White House for the past eight years has resulted in major achievements.

While advocates always want more, President Obama's environmental legacy is impressive. It is, along with the accomplishments of the Nixon Administration, the most consequential of any president in our history. Obama leaves a better, cleaner, more sustainable world for all of our kids.

Here's one advocate's view of the president's top 10 environmental accomplishments (in no particular order):

1. National climate progress

His Clean Power Plan was the first ever national limit on carbon pollution from its largest source. It sent a signal to states and utilities, which is now transforming the way we produce energy. The president also used his office to educate Americans about the dangers of climate change with major speeches and TV appearances. He leaned in.

2. An international climate agreement

President Obama's diplomatic leadership, and work with China, led to a long-sought global agreement among 195 nations to reduce climate pollution.

3. Pollution limits for power plants

The Obama Administration put in place overdue pollution limits for power plant smokestacks. These are major sources of air toxics like mercury, as well sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxides, which lead to smog, soot, and acid rain pollution.

4. Reducing air pollution from oil and gas operations

We now have common sense protections for oil and gas development that avoid waste and protect public health and the environment by reducing emissions of smog-forming pollution while conserving a valuable domestic energy resource. These safeguards reduce methane, which drives one-quarter of current global warming, and save almost $2 billion worth of American energy.    

5. Cleaner cars and trucks

The Obama EPA enhanced fuel efficiency and sensible pollution standards for vehicles. Consumers are saving money at the same time that we're reducing greenhouse gas emissions, our communities are breathing cleaner air, and auto manufacturing in America is resurgent. Cars are now on a path to average over 50 miles per gallon.

6. Clean energy investment

Way back in 2009, the "stimulus" package not only helped us out of the Great Recession, it invested billions in clean energy technology. These programs have paid for themselves and made the American government $1 billion in interest payments, while also helping to make wind and solar energy more affordable in the last eight years, as deployment has soared.

7. Chemical safety

The president signed the first major environmental law in two decades, passed with bipartisan support, fixing our broken chemical safety system.

8. Sustainable agriculture, western water, and endangered species

The President established regional Climate Hubs and several initiatives to help farmers, ranchers and rural communities combat climate change and adapt to extreme weather. He signed a landmark agreement with Mexico providing greater flexibility in the management and restoration of the Colorado River, which allowed the river to reach the sea for the first time in decades. And he brought industry, environmentalists and private landowners together across 11 states to voluntarily protect the greater sage grouse and avoid a listing.

9. Fisheries rebound

Through strong implementation of revisions to the national fisheries law, under President Obama the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration reduced overfishing and recovered a record number of fisheries in US waters. Catch shares now govern more than half the volume of fish landed in the United States and have prompted the dramatic recovery of previously overfished species such as Gulf of Mexico red snapper and several Pacific rockfishes.

10. Protecting our natural heritage

The president has preserved 260 million acres for future generations, more than any of his predecessors, by designating 19 national monuments. He signed into law and began implementing the RESTORE Act, the nation's largest-ever commitment to protect and restore the Gulf Coast.

The best way to honor these accomplishments is to protect and defend them. Can we do so in a Trump Administration? If we are relentless in our activism, yes we can.”