#its all geoffreys fault

[peachesycream]

I want to talk about the Landgraabs I want to talk about Geoffrey and Nancy I want to talk about Geoffrey because I have Thoughts™ about them now.

Like how common word said they were an unlikeable family, the snobby rich corporate fam, how Nancy was a criminal and Geoffrey a secret agent, how they were said to be together doing shady business or Nancy was trickinhg or manipulating him, how they were destined to break apart, how their kid was unsufferable and karma awaited because they were shitty people and how I was on board with all of it and ready to break havoc.

But then Geoffrey is a dork and good and a loving dad and a family guy and a joyful lil golden retriever of a man who loves his family so I thought ok then Nancy will betray him and Malcom will be a lil shit-

But then the first days with them all Nancy wanted to do was talk with Geoffrey, be funny with him, friendly with him, flirty with him, it was all him him him and Geoffrey was constantly wanting to be with his family but sad bc his son was evil, and Malcom himself was both angry because his dad was good but also sad because his dad was sad because of him?? And how Nancy and Geoffrey are such opposites, they even like colours that are oposites in the spectrum yet are dressed in the other's favourite??

Then I leave them and when I come back Nancy switched jobs, abandoned the progress she had made as a criminal and was now painstakinly starting anew somewhere else and listen here is when I took that picture bc i forgot you could do that and wanted to try... And they were so cute so I said ok enough, they deserve a chance, they are getting a chance and istg they are the cutest lil shits and my mind is spínning backstories like no one's business.

But yeah tl;dr I went with the idea of drama, divorce, betrayal and disaster and ended up making them the most annoyingly cute and loving family in the whole goddamn game. And they are like 7 now because let me tell you those two are a menace (and i cant say no to them).

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: wip intro

Masterlist | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist

The Prince of Thieves is a Robin Hood-inspired tale of two brothers, Will and Jamie Wardrew, and the people they care about most: Geoff, Colette, and Bree.

The goal of Iustitia aecum, the notorious thieving gang, is to steal from the rich and give to the poor. For a few years, that's exactly what Jamie, Will, Colette, and Geoff (as the gang's inner circle) do; they slip through the fingers of the law time and time again.

One day, everything goes wrong.

Will, by a stroke of fateful misfortune, falls into a trap meant for Jamie, the real leader of IA, and ends up in prison—in the custody of Constable Baden Hatchett, an officer who is willing to do whatever it takes to get Will to crack so he can bust IA and bring all its members to justice.

With execution—his brother's and his own—hanging over his head, Will resolves to take his secrets to the grave, swearing not to betray the only family he has left.

Bree Cooper is one of IA's runners, privy to no secrets save for one she learned by chance...that she was never supposed to know. When she, too, falls into the hands of the constabulary, she is forced to reckon with her past—a complicated history with Constable Hatchett himself, and her future—the gallows.

Will and Bree's lives were already intertwined, and when they find each other again behind bars, they will rewrite the stories fate has planned for them—together.

Click here to see some incredible art by @keeper-of-all-the-random-things of the Iustitia aecum tree sigil!!

Cast of Characters

Will Wardrew: Foolhardy, reckless, and immature, his fiery temper and smart mouth get him into trouble constantly—inside and outside the prison walls. Incredibly loving and loyal, he will go to great lengths to protect the people he loves.

Bree Cooper: A girl who suffered enough in childhood to make her tough and wary as an adult, Bree thinks with her heart. Stubborn to a fault, she clings to hope above all other things.

Baden Hatchett: Cold-hearted, prideful, and cruel, Baden Hatchett wants nothing more than to take IA down. Will and Bree's constant defiance and refusal to comply with his investigation spur him to more brutal methods so he can claim his victory.

Jamie Wardrew: A strong sense of justice and an unwillingness to witness people’s suffering prompted him to become a Robin Hood figure so he could help others, but now that it is his younger brother paying the price, his world is starting to unravel.

Colette Haris: A rich girl who walked away from her family and her home, Colette is self-assured and strong. She is the other half of the 'brains' of IA (while Geoff makes up the 'brawn').

Geoffrey Marks: The epitome of 'strong and silent,' Geoff has spent much of his life on his own and scrounging for survival, which makes him good at an unnerving number of suspicious and useful skills. Observant and deceptively gentle, he would do anything for Jamie, and by extension, Will. He is also the tallest person you have ever seen.

What You'll Find Inside

angst

lots of fun whump: flogging, stabbing, burning, psychological and emotional torment, fun insults, tons of defiance (especially early on), so many chains and shackles - warnings always provided

found family

lovable dummies for characters

badass gals and guys

dungeon vibes

tragic backstories / rough childhoods

problematic authority figures

old-timey historic vibes

sloooooooooow burn romantic feelings

"I'd do anything for you"

"why did you save me?"

"I won't give in, so you'll just have to kill me"

hard choices

complicated pasts

secrets, betrayal, forgiveness

silly easter eggs/references to: Robin Hood, Les Miserables, Aladdin

here's the old mood boards!

[kindofblue28]

I found your post recommending Faust the other day when I was looking for recent posts about the Gadget games, then went ahead and watched a playthrough, and I’m glad I did even if I don’t fully understand the story. That GameBoomers forum thread did help to clear some things up, at least. I don’t know where the hell the Wikipedia plot summary describing Marcellus as the Devil got that idea from, that doesn’t seem to be the case at all, somebody should change that.

Man, that final part with Giselle hit pretty hard, though it’s undercut a bit by that sitcomy ending. This game has a tone problem, that’s for sure. Do you think it’s an exaggeration on my part to call Geoffrey Bateman (I think that’s him?)’s performance as Mef one of the best vocal performances for a video game character? The character displays a wide range of emotions and he nails it, when he laughs it sounds like he’s laughing for real. I’m so glad that the voice of Loge/Loki from RLOTN got to be in the spotlight for something somewhat better.

I think Drowned God and - to a lesser extent - Gadget have already filled up too much real estate in my brain for me to want to dive super deep into the lore and stuff, but I’ll be looking forward for your fan website to see the concept art and all that! As one of the very few people on this Earth who has bothered to document Drowned God’s completely absurd story and try to explain it, plus Gadget’s too a little, I get how kinda lonely it feels to want to reach out and tell others about such a weird thing that has interesting ideas despite its faults.

I’ll be busy for the next several days, but maybe in the near future I’ll make a TV Tropes page for Faust, and if I have any questions about characters and story elements. I feel like that site can do quite a bit to spread the word about these types of media and help clarify stuff.

Hey! Just wanted to say thanks for sending me this ask!! I'm very glad that post helped you find that game, and really happy to see another Gadget fan too. I can understand being confused about the story- I was very confused on my first couple of playthroughs too, if you have any questions I'd be glad to answer them about this game. Wasn't even aware of the stuff with the Wikipedia article- I'll try and look and see what I can do about that, because… whew, that's VERY wrong! Also completely agree with you on the part with Giselle. Really hits me hard and like, 9/10 makes me cry whenever I play thru that part- its message really helped me. Though yeah, I agree on the ending too. I feel like this game has such an issue of like, going way faster than it needs to be. I feel like a lot of the messages don't have enough time to really sit and get their point across, like, you just immediately get thrust into the end stuff after that, and doesn't even let the horror element of what happened sit? It stinks, and even if I hold this game in a really high regard, it's VERY flawed and all over the place.

Also, I definitely think Geoffery Bateman did FANTASTIC as Mef. I've listened to his roles in other Arxel games and this definitely feels like one where he got to shine- I feel like his other roles he's stuck in ones where he just sounds monotone and disinterested, where his performance of Mef sounds like, super believable and not forced at all :)

Also, can understand not wanting to dive super deep into the lore, I mean, it's been like that for me with Gadget, Faust took up too much of the braincells for this year and even if I own most of the supporting material for Gadget I just don't think I have the brain energy to dive super deep into it right now, so I totally get ya. Also cool you're a Drowned God fan- I meant to play that sorta soon, it's a game that's been on my list for years, if you took the time to play Faust, I got to at least give you the time with Drowned God too. More of these small games like these really need to be remembered- they have something to say! About the site, I hopefully should have SOMETHING up eventually. I've been kinda conflicted on the stuff in regards to Faust though, as I've debated having it moved to a wiki framework- and that might just be too much effort for one game, and I wouldn't want to be the one to make a wiki on Arxel Tribe games, as I haven't played most of them. I was planning to host the website on Neocities but my website building skills are VERY poor and that's just been stopping me from doing the pages themselves, I have the info, just not the skills :(

Either way, thank you for your ask (and your time!), you've been very kind. If you want to talk about the game at all I'm here on tumblr or on Discord (same username) :) Peace!

[ladybugmeat]

6.

RESIDENT TRANSIENT

And forth we riden, a litel more than pas,

Un-to the watering of seint Thomas.

                             — Geoffrey Chaucer

In 1392, Old Kent Road had windmills. The dusty thoroughfare, paved by the Romans, crossed vast swathes of green pasture. In ‘the watering of seint Thomas’, a pub that stands unoccupied today, Geoffrey Chaucer’s thirty-one pilgrims assembled. Whilst their horses drank from a small stream, the men ordered  half-pints and spoke of their impending expedition. Upon the setting of the sun, the pilgrims would arrive in Canterbury. Kneeling before the shrine of the murdered Saint Thomas Becket, the pilgrims would seek spiritual guidance. The gilded tomb held a piece of the martyr’s vestment and a fragment of finger bone.

PREMISE :

Amongst Chaucer’s clan are impoverished monks, gallant knights, foolhardy drunks, disillusioned workmen, a reticent lawyer, a cook afflicted with a chancre sore, sexual deviants, crude wives, curators and sufferers of love triangles, crinkle-cut-haired brown-nosers, and more. Along the pilgrimage, speakers surface and retire. Sometimes tales converge and grate. Though on large, Chaucer’s string of pithy and didactic vignettes promote a chivalrous and honest temperament. Above all religion, class constraints, and conflicts, Chaucer foregrounds compassion.

Along my travels of Old Kent Road, I encountered transients of various dispositions. Unbeknownst to today’s itinerants, Chaucer immortalised their predecessors and The Kent Road as a celebrated site of flux. Nick Dunn describes an environment’s past to echo through its future shape. ‘The difference lies in their restless ability to meld together. As such, we find ourselves consistently presented with the ‘new’, but it is typically anything but, concocted as it is from earlier eras albeit in variegated forms.’ I intend to align Chaucer's voices with those I have heard. Through overlaying their stories, one can harness a fuller psychogeography. I will meld Situationist practice, Old English, and verbatim.

THE REEVE’S TALE

[The Reeve’s Tale is a story of revenge. I imagined the two itinerants who spoke with broad Northern dialects to mirror the two student clerks who avenge themselves on a dishonest miller. I have substituted the Miller’s thievery with the sinister talons of The Cost of Living Crisis. The men spoke at length upon how they wished to injure the politicians at fault. I have adopted the Situationist practice and poetic voice of Robert Montgomery.]

[woolyfaye]

I guess since twitter is dying I ought to remind folks I don’t just shitpost here and reblog fandom stuff. SOMETIMES, I write.  Anyways an unedited bit from The Tailor’s Kiss, since I plan on finishing it once my degree is completed.  For new followers, this follows the life of Betony Redyng, an alderman’s daughter, as she wards off her unsavory suitors in the spring and summer of 1381, when the pressures of the Poll tax lit London aflame and threatened its independent rule. 

“Hmm, yes. May I walk you home?” He nodded, though his eyes did not focus on her face as Edward’s did. He was partially turned away, despite the older man offering his arm to her. Walter’s red face was less flushed than usual, making the lines forming around his eyes and lips stand out slightly. It seemed his time serving the city as an enforcer of the law was wearing on him. Beneath her touch, his forearm was hard with muscle. It was a firm reminder that for all his talking, he was very much a man of action. He was, as a nobleman might say, preux.

  Betony tried to keep her touch as light as possible. He started without a verbal acceptance, the brush of her fingers enough to set him walking. Idly, she wondered if she’d have to get used to that, for with Geoffrey dealt with, Sheriff Walter Doget was the only man actively pursuing her. Betony didn’t want a life of her word being worth nothing, especially in the places it mattered. He at least purposely slowed his step for her, and he finally smiled down at her. He seemed more interested in her throat and brooch, his eyes only rising to land on her lips as he asked, “Have you heard much of the goings-on outside of London?”

  Betony’s brows rose. That was the last subject she’d expected him to ask about. She tilted her head to the side, grasping for the gossip that traveled through the city’s network of women. That word traveled slowly, but there was always some woman whose cousin in the countryside had heard about something from a traveler, or had heard something from a friend. By the end of it, of course, the tale had warped into the exaggerated silhouette of monsters and scandal, but Betony loved that about gossip. Now she almost hated it. “Many are refusing to pay the poll tax. Some I’ve heard have taken up arms.”

  Walter snorted. “Fat chance there is of that happening here—forgive me for my language, Miss Redyng—but I’ve made ensuring the tax is paid a very personal endeavor.” He seemed to puff up with pride, even as they stepped out into the unseasonably cold rain.

  Betony was glad her entire dress was a waterspot, or else this would certainly have ruined her dress. She grimaced slightly at Walter’s words, a shiver traveling up her spine. She’d trust that to be the rain’s fault, but the poll tax might have been another reason. “May I ask how you’ve managed to do that, goodman?”

  “I’m certain the details would bore you.” Walter laughed. Betony’s insides twisted. Her touch grew firmer on his arm only so she might imagine what it might feel like to twist his arm in the same way—but violence was not ideal, especially not towards the enforcer of London’s laws. An act like that would be just as bad as fighting the mayor. “I’ve simply ensured that those who don’t comply with our good king’s tax face certain difficulties, as they haven’t obliged the laws of the city.”

  This time, she was certain, the chill was not from the rain. She expected talk like this from Venetians, who never said what they meant and always tried to impress their audience, but not a good Londoner. Even worse, a Londoner so respected by the civic government that he’d been named Sheriff at the age of thirty. Betony let out a chuckle that half caught in her throat. “I thought the king’s men would do that for you.”

  Doget made a dismissive noise. “Bah, you know the king’s men. Too afraid to interfere with our city’s independence.”

  “London still owes fealty to King Richard.” Betony replied. The young king had yet to impress her, but she was fully aware of that. The city’s writ of self-governance had been threatened—revoked, even—in the past, and she would not see it revoked again by riots. “Perhaps a gentler hand might—“

  Sheriff Walter cut her voice off with a laugh that echoed across the streets. It seemed lent had left few of the ladies hungry for dancing, for the square outside the church was nearly empty. Sound carried further than she’d ever seen it go her whole life. He looked down his sloped nose at her. “Kindness doesn’t pay taxes.”

  Betony bit back a retort. Her face felt hot for all the wrong reasons, most of all her thoughts on the state of the city being outright dismissed. Goodman Doget was certainly well-connected, but as a man who’d been unmarried all his life, he seemed to have no connections to the word spread through the women of the city. That meant he missed the words of the women outside the city as well. Those who were widowed with young children by the ongoing war with France were the most affected by the tax. The crop hadn’t been good enough to pay it. But Betony couldn’t risk a larger blow to her reputation to argue.

  Instead, she looked about the streets for a way out. Betony knew none of the people they passed well enough to excusably break away. With a thin smile, she instead prayed to Jesus, Mary and Joseph that another might approach her or the sheriff, and the excuse of conversation could give her an exit. Betony would find her prayers unanswered. As her hazel eyes searched every dampened face and the depths of each doorway, she was met only with the frowns of others. “Are you taking me another route? This isn’t the way my kin take to Knightrider.” Betony asked. By now, her veil was entirely plastered to her head. Moving her head one way or the other was an effort, with the drenched linen heavier than any of her sins.

  “I thought I’d show you a new way.” Goodman Walter said.

  The chill was certainly from the cold.

  Betony found it much harder to keep up her smile now. She loosened her grip on the sheriff’s arm just enough so she could break away easily. Her heart pounded in her chest. “I’d like to be returned home quickly, goodman.” Her voice shook as she spoke, “I’ve a dress to finish for Easter. You are aware that the Guildhall has agreed we’re all to wear purple during Easter mass.”  

[xtruss]

Elon Musk Calls 2014 Ukraine Regime Change a ‘COUP’

The billionaire described Viktor Yanukovych’s election as ‘dodgy’ but said the coup was beyond question

— 25 February 2023 | RT

Elon Musk calls 2014 Ukraine regime change a ‘coup’ © AFP/Justin Sullivan

Twitter CEO Elon Musk polarized his followers with a tweet declaring there was “no question” that the 2014 change of government in Ukraine was a “coup.” On Saturday, the billionaire tweeted that while “the election” – presumably referring to the 2010 vote that elected Viktor Yanukovych president – was “arguably dodgy,” what followed “was indeed a coup.”

The tweet was a response to a post from user @KanekoaTheGreat that featured the front page of an article by University of Chicago Professor John Mearsheimer titled “Why the Ukraine Crisis Is The West’s Fault.” Dating from 2014, the piece – subtitled “The Liberal Delusions That Provoked Putin” – argues that “NATO enlargement” and Western meddling in Ukrainian politics, and not “Russian aggression,” are to blame for Crimea’s accession to Russia.

Mearsheimer states that “for Putin, the illegal overthrow of Ukraine’s democratically-elected and pro-Russian president – which he rightly labeled a ‘coup’ – was the final straw,” an explanation Musk appeared to agree with, at least in part.

Criminal Thug Zelensky threatens unsupportive Americans! The Ukrainian leader alleged the US would lose its influence in the world if it stopped backing Kiev. The US has thus far Pledged $113 billion to Ukraine's war effort, vowing to continue pouring money into the conflict for "As Long As It Takes."

While the 2010 election that installed Yanukovych as president was deemed an “impressive display” of democracy by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe, the West soured on the Party of Regions politician when he abandoned a 2013 economic cooperation agreement with the EU.

Massive violent protests followed, forcing Yanukovych to flee. The US’ hand in the unrest was confirmed in a leaked phone call between then-assistant US Secretary of State Victoria Nuland and US ambassador to Ukraine Geoffrey Pyatt in which they appeared to be plotting to overthrow Yanukovych and install Arseniy Yatsenyuk – who indeed briefly became Prime Minister following Yanukovych’s ouster.

Fewer Americans Perceive that Ukraine is Winning – Poll! Just 21% of voters consider that Kiev is heading for victory, while 46% see a stalemate with Russia, a new poll has shown

Musk also replied approvingly to a previous post by Kanekoa that featured a video clip of All In podcast host David Sacks claiming that the US “courted” the Ukraine conflict. The video likened Nuland to former Biden administration medical adviser Anthony Fauci, a frequent target of Musk's ire.

“The same way that Fauci was supposed to be protecting us from viruses and then funded gain of function research, Victoria Nuland was supposed to be our chief diplomat with respect to Russia and Eastern Europe and what did she do instead? She ginned up this conflict. How? We backed an insurrection in Ukraine in 2014,” Sacks said in the video, which Musk described as an “accurate assessment.”

[graywyvern]

( via / via via @auntbeast )

The Art of Clowning.

"In this sequence I was attempting a florid grim music broken by grunts and shrieks." --Geoffrey Hill, "Funeral Music: an Essay"

"For a half a day you notice that all the buildings are crumbling and empty, with their roofs caved in, and then, after about four hours, you start to notice that the grass is all up to your waist and there are incredible plants you don’t find anywhere else."

"The savage who, poor soul, adores a stone Rather than not adore at all, And a vivid, vindictive, and serpentine flash Had been my universe; tho’ refuge none

What may happen? I don't, nor do you, I suppose. But to return to what I had to say-- Of that beauty which, even when hidd'n, can prevail When seized by the throat in the hard gripe of Grammar.

Peace from the public upon pious pleas. Perchance we may meet Since the beginning of this situation Of the moraine--there to the right, below

And weird words pursue it-- Over which they were pausing. To-morrow, resistance On my heart's substance grafted and engrained, A little warrior, born to rule and fight;

Secure upon his housetop in the snow. Whilst he spoke thus, a doubtful tumultuous joy And the wish an ascendency lost to recall, Inexplicable to my mind they are.

Than a young goddess just about to fly. The trees broke in, all rustling with surprise, It would not do! I had forgotten that! Mine the fault, and be mine the repentence! Not less,

As he stray'd down the darkness. A ripple of silver harp-strings cold-- Lost or shatter'd, borne down by the stress of the war, Another’s whim! And I, the plunderer

Over the sea, nor ever returned. But there were other reasons. I felt sure, And still feel sure, far away it must tend From all places in which we have met, or might meet,

At moonrise the land was suddenly brighter; The light of wild orgies. To do him justice, he As we then were, would still have been strangely at strife . Cordelia hesitated. He resolved to remain

The midnight--in which they escape from our sight. Arrived in port much injured. Gales severe With a stern sad inquiry fix'd keenly on him. His aim in this was unconditional;

No! no! do me justice. I never have spoken A silence to the ear, a something said Reveal'd to him, riding toward Luchon, the Duke. Love, or a name: the name is for the dead,

'Neath yon terrible heaven that is watching above By me untraversed in the Heart's Far West? And many a time with a mute moody look I have but little chance to rise: and yet

Lit that festival hour, save what soft light was given To justify the indiscretion sweet All its frivolous gods, with an undefined awe, Fronting the lake, and gleaming to the dawn."

--Thomas Pension, The Rubaiyat of Owen Meredith (2000)

Desired Constellation.

"Songs, I think, have to be anatomically correct." --Tom Waits

Treelike thing.

[velvet-cupcake-games]

What loot would the characters drop if they were in rpg?

Ooh! Hmm, I'm going to try to get more creative than just having them drop their weapon/implement of choice. In my world, all magic has its upsides and its downsides...

Robin: Noble Broach of Aiming: The broach on his cloak, which helps you hit your target, whether that target be an enemy or the heart of a lovely lass. It comes with an enraging aura, which causes you to be the primary target of all enemy attacks, as well as of the slaps of said lovely lasses, but that last bit is probably your own fault.

John: Headband of Stalwart Leadership: Causes you to possess the party's single brain cell in a crisis situation. (Yes, this is an in-joke for our Discord regulars or anybody who has read the Sherwood demo.) Also causes your sage advice to consistently go unheeded.

Will: Swashbuckling Hat of Agility: I mean, Will has to drop his fabulous hat. It makes you go zoom! It may also cause an existential crisis. +5 SPD, +3 DEX, -5 WIS

Meissa: Enchanted Glasses of Reason: +5 INT, - 2 DEX, gain either future sight or extremely advanced alchemical skills. Also gain a lingering sense of self-doubt and/or dread.

Alanna: The People's Lute: A massive bonus to charisma, but the character is magically impelled to attempt to dismantle all feudal and/or capitalist regimes.

Geoffrey: Cloak of Stern Leadership: Gives +5 to wisdom and stamina, but alignment-changes you to Lawful Neutral. Any outfit you're wearing with it turns black.

Gui: Epaulets of Mysterious Foppage: All who gaze upon you see you as they most wish to see you. You gain impeccable aesthetic sensibilities. But your heart... is it not empty?

[erinhime83]

Since APPARENTLY I did the designs all wrong (I won’t lie - doing  my own design of Evangelia was sort of a thinly veiled attempted to get @callistochan87 to redesign her herself.  >.>), I figured I’d make it my life mission this week to go through and, like, fix them.  Partially because in my fuming about finding out that two of the people were talking about this behind my back, I kept giving myself ideas.  >.<

I am pleasantly pleased with the design that @callistochan87 did for Evania/Evangelia, although I’m worried how much is actually influenced by my design and how much she actually decided to do on her own.  *shrug*  I just like the simplicity of it and how it does make her look like a goddess.  I kept forgetting to add in the pieces in front of her ears, lol.

Antigonus I did fiddle with a little bit.  Mostly, @callistochan87 mentioned that she thought it was funny having this super old guy traveling with a bunch of teenagers, and she wondered why I didn’t just...make someone new.  Well, mostly because I didn’t want to, and mostly because when she did create someone new when I decided the Guides were supposed to be younger, it felt...wrong. 

SO, I decided to age him down a little.  Which I suppose sort of defeats the purpose of @callistochan87 creating another character when I wanted to do the same, but ignore that.  He basically has the same backstory - he was the youngest Guide of the previous generation.  He’s the heir of the empire, being the Emperor’s nephew, and now that his Guide duties are over, he’s preparing to take over the Empire.  EXCEPT, the idiot new Guide managed to get himself killed, so Antigonus is temporarily taking over the duties as they try to find someone else to take over.  BUT THEN GUESS WHAT?  He’s about 35, so while he’s old, he’s not stupidly older than than, and is sort of more of a chaperone than anything else.

His outfit come from an old one @callistochan87 designed, and I figure it’s just, like, a traveling outfit?  idk

Freyja...omg, Freyja.  She caused most of my strife.  Like, I honestly didn’t change THAT MUCH of her design, just sort of little piddly stuff to make it look more visually appealing, but APPARENTLY, that was still bad.  I stewed and hemmed and hawed on this for quite a while, annoyed before it hit me - this is a a redesign.  Shizuka sort of went back to her roots.  Why couldn’t Freyja as well?

(And yes, I realize I was in the wrong, but like I said, I hadn’t changed her that much from her last design, and, well, these were done years ago so I sort of...forgot that she didn’t originally look like that.  >.<)

And I figured, ya know, since I had minorly changed Freyja and she didn’t like that, I had better change Desiree, too, because I drastically changed her.  I don’t care what @swankifiedcos says about this one, I am IN LOVE with her outfit.  <3  Her hair, though, was inspired by a recent picture of @swankifiedcos of her hair between dye jobs where it was pink at the tips and she looked SO PRETTY.  Sure, Desiree is brunette, not blond, but I like that look on her so much I wanted to recreate it somewhat, and she looks so nice! 

Frejya, well, I did sort of tweek her design slightly to what @callistochan87 did, mostly giving her cold shoulder sleeves as a sort of call back to her old sleeves.  I won’t lie - I did attempt to do them again and failed spectacularly.  Sorry.  But apparently she approves of this sleeve, so that’s...one less problem for me to deal with.  XD   Just so you know, I gave her hearts rather than flowers merely because I can’t draw flowers.  Consider it a style thing.  Like, in reality, she has flowers, but i just draw them as hearts.  I am SHOCKED that I was able to make the feathers as nice as I did, though!  This look makes SO MUCH more sense than the way we used to draw it.  Me likely. 

(Also, you might be thinking that she’s still wearing the pants.  I originally indended that, with the thought that she comes from a cold kindgom, but then decided they’re actually shorts that she ended up added to her outfit for modesty sake, much like Sethos did with his shirt.  :P)

I really wanted to redo Nannin’s outfit as well, but I’m sorry - I’m lazy, and her original outfit is both too detailed and too simple.  So I just made her top layer a darker pink, and I like it better.  Also made her a blond again with the idea that the people of Melohdia like like normal ass humans, and the Chosen have colored hair, and the Guides have unnatural colored eyes, which is how people can tell they’re Guides.

Geoffrey (I’m thinking of renaming him Geauffery, because that’s how I prenounce it in my head) over there gets a new design as well because I didn’t care for his other one.  >.<  Also, decided, as much as I like the name Dimitri Kaminiski, I;m going to go ahead and make him Owen again.  Mostly because he’s sort of shifted more into being Owen.  I was sort of going with this old look while making it look a little more medieval, and I like it.  I also decided he’s not a soothsayer, but rather a magician.mage.

Which is sort of similar to Evangelia’s power, but not quite.  She uses the power of miracles, whereas he uses actual magic.  Its sort of like how Shizuka and Freyja’s power is similar, but Frejya’s is a little weaker.  (Shizuka has mastery over all weapons, whereas Freyja just has mastery over bludgeoning people with a huge ass axe.  But she has the benefit of also having  magic, whereas Shizuka can just use some fire magic.)

The next design is where it get all long and involved.  Basically as I was stewing about having my feelings hurt and how I was going to hide everything in my annoyance, I THINK I was briefly reminded of the last time I screwed up and within that instance a brilliant idea came to me, mostly because I needed more villains.  

I remember I really like Astrid’s design, but looking back, I’m sort of confused as to why?  It doesn’t look at all better than Freyja’s.  >.<  Anyway, the thought is simple - when the Chosen are originally yanked into Melohdia, Nuncio replaces one of them with one of his own that would be easily manipulated.  Why Freyja, you ask?  Plot reasons, since it does help explain the whole Nannin thing a lot better.  The thing is, though, that Ariadne and Atalo sort of find out and drag Freyja in as well, except she ends up in Baldernan rather than Azibo with the rest of the Chosen.

So the Chosen are in Azibo thinking Astrid is one of them, except they don’t really vibe with her that well.  They just figure it’s because they can’t like everyone, and ignore it.  Astrid herself doesn’t really suspect anything.  But then they travel to Baldurnan and find Freyja there, who they do vibe with very well, and they find out that Astrid is a fake. 

Which would be all fine and well.  Even Freyja’s willing to give the girl a chance because, hey, it’s not her fault she was falsely brought into this world with no purpose.  Except Astrid is a spoiled bitch and takes it as an affront that they would even want to include Freyja at all.  So she just sort of runs off and Nuncio catches up to her, and convinces her that she’s the real one, and and she goes around antagonizing the group from time to time.  They think she’s in league with Atalo at first until they find out of the truth.

NEW IDEA.  I actually had this very vague idea while musing around, but @callistochan87 had another idea that was similar enough that I can change things to make it work WAY better.  So, the new idea is mostly that Nuncio pulls Astrid into Melohdia way before the others.  The people are rather confused, certainly, but it’s not 100% unheard of one Chosen being brought over.  So she’s treated like something of a god and spoiled further, and Nuncio pretty much convinces her that she’s the soul savior of Melohdia. He assigns Thor to be her Guide, although he’s just some Random Dude (because I decided that matching genders to the Chosen is sort of weird, so Nannin is a full Guide now).

BUT Ariadne and Atalo end up pulling the REAL Chosen a month or so later, which REALLY pull the people for a loop, and they realize that Astrid is a fake once they realize that Thor isn’t a real Guide and that Nannin claims Freyja.  The group attempts to assimilate Astrid in with them, because they realize it’s not HER fault all this happened, but since she’s a fake Chosen AND a narcissistic bitch, they end up not viving all that well, and she ends up running away in anger and embarrassment.

Nuncio sort of blames the whole thing on Atalo somehow, since the people forgot that Ariadne is the only one who can pull true Chosen into the world, mostly to save face.

Astrid and Thor do end up joining with Atalo for a little bit, because he’s trying to be sympathetic to her as well, but their goals aren’t really the same.  She does prove to be a major threat to the group because she DOES have the power of a Chosen, although they’re sort of weak.  

Her real name is Katelyn Davis, and she’s pretty much the opposite of the other Chosen.  She’s a complete social butterfly, the sort to think the world revolves around her.  She’s not happy unless she’s around people, whereas the other Chosen are pretty much introverted and would prefer to keep to themselves. 

Her Guide’s name is Thor (I keep calling him that in my head, I think because of Frejya being named after a god), and he is, in fact, a true Guide.  It’s just that he’s not a very good one, nor is he a good person.  He’s a bandit and delights in the misfortunes of others.  The other Guides avoided him at all costs, and wasn’t sure why he was chosen to be a Guide.  He goes off with Astrid after they kick him out of the group when Freyja chooses Nannin over him.  (The two of them became close in the month Frejya was stuck there on her own, so of course she’d want to have her stay with her.)

The last picture was just me giving them their original hair colors just for the hell of it, and now I’m torn.  >.<  Because I like these as well.  I mean, I like the idea of the colored hair being how you can tell they’re the Chosen, BUT I also, you know, like the original colors BECAUSE they are the original colors.  >.<

[cutekittenlady]

Cutekittenlady's Hamefura Ship Chart

Blanked out the characters I'm not quite as familiar with since they show up in some light novels I still haven't gotten around to reading.

Made using the template @sapphireshineauthor made over on her blog! You can find it HERE

Lol the lines get pretty confusing so here are the images broken down by color with small explanations.

First and easiest to go over is probably my limited selections of OTPs which largely consists of GeoKata and AlaMary along with Nicol/Fray, Ian/Selena, and Geoffrey/Suzanna. The first three are all ships I think are quite cute (Nicol and Fray only got one episode together but wow was it a damn good episode) and the last two are, lets be frank, outright canon or otherwise set to sail any day now. (Feel free to argue with me on the Geoffrey/Suzanna boat but, cmon, theyre just too good for each other)

sNext up is "Likes" since its next down the list so might as well keep up the chronological order. I chose to view "likes" as any ship I'd probably enjoy reading fanfic or seeing fanart of, but I'm not super compelled on. Like, the stuff that if I cam across it in the tag on tumblr or AO3 I'd probably check out but not actively seek out most of the time.

You'll likely notice a distinct lack of yuri on this train, and sadly, I think the yuri train for this series just passed me by. I think the girls feelings for Kat are very sweet and the series handles it decently well for the most part (yes even the light novel though folks seem inclined to feel otherwise), but they just don't personally compel me like some of the others do.

What you *will* notice on the other hand are plenty of m/m ships on here. And I will make no explanations or excuses for the very clear double standard between the m/m and w/w rep on my ship chart.

Look its not my fault they filled the series with pretty boys with problems who I wouldn't mind seeing hold hands or mac out, aight?

And finally the big one;

Can you tell I prefer Gen Fic yet? lol

I actually had to cut down this selection quite a bit because Katarina is a friend making MACHINE. So I ended up trying to think who her bff/unofficial siblings were. Mind, I see her and Alan's relationship as pretty sibling like too, but by the time I was done with this mess the whole thing was getting pretty sloppy XD

So I tried to include only the ones that I thought might not be obvious/relevant.

So, yeah, that's my ship chart. I haven't deep dived into WHY I ship/don't ship certain characters together, but if you ever get intensely curious then feel free to shoot me an ask! I can't promise I'll jump on it right away, but I'll make an attempt to gush about the stuff I like.

Thank you, and good night!

[airis-paris14]

Wonder What She Thinks 5

Summary: She learns to love herself and he loses the best thing he ever had.

Masterlist || 4 || 5 || Epilogue

I wonder what she thinks of me, when you stay awake. After you make love to her, but I’m still on your brain.

- “Wonder What She Thinks of Me” Chloe x Halle

“It’s time!” Shuri jerked her head up from reading the notification on her phone. The King and Queen both paused their conversation, “Now,” Queen Ramonda clarified, her face breaking into a large smile. Shuri nodded excitedly. “Time for what?” T’Challa frowned as his family members stood from the table and began heading out of the room, his mother handing out orders left and right. “Zoe is having the babies!” Shuri beamed before following her mother out of the room. T’Chaka paused, “Why are you not moving. Let’s go, son,” he urged. “Baba,” T’Challa swallowed the knot in his throat, “I can not go.”

“Son-“

“No Baba. Nakia and I are not in a good space right now. I cannot just up and leave to see a woman, who is not my wife, give birth to her children.”

The king shook his head, “T’Challa those twins are yours as well. Your firstborns I might add. I am more than sure Nakia will understand. Nothing is more important than being there for your children. Nothing.” The king insisted. “Baba, I cannot-“

“No T’Challa. You can go but you are refusing. I know it hurts that Zoe-Iman has moved on, but I thought I raised you better than this. You don’t avoid a situation because it is uncomfortable. You don’t avoid a situation because it is messy. And you especially do not avoid your children because you are upset that their mother found happiness with another after you did not treasure her.”

“I need to patch things up with my wife,” T’Challa deflected. “And she will still be here, and just as upset when you get back. However, the birth of your firstborn only happens once T’Challa.”

“Baba! We have to go so we don’t miss anything. Ayo and Okoye are waiting,” Shuri popped her head back in the dining room. “Are you coming too?” She looked at T’Challa. The prince opened his mouth before closing it and shaking his head. “I will let Nakia know where everyone has gone.”

Shuri glared at her brother and shook her head. T’Chaka sighed and walked over to his youngest. “You will regret this T’Challa. Your children may never forgive you if you decide to enter their lives at some point. Which I truly hope you do,” he shook his head before walking out with the scientist.

The future king watched as his family members walked out and let out the breath he’d been holding. He hated that he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with himself, Zoe, or Nakia. While Zoe-Iman had made it clear where she stood in their relationship, the king knew that his heart still belonged to her.

“Where’d everyone go, and why are you crying?” Nakia lifted her husband's chin. He scrambled to wipe the tears he didn’t know had fallen. “Zoe has gone into labor.”

“You didn’t join them?”

“I figured we should talk about what happened last night and seriously try to fix our relationship.”

“T’Challa-“ Nakia raised a hand to stop him, “the truth please.”

“You don’t think we should work on our relationship?”

“T’Challa it has been broken since the moment we said I do. A woman is giving birth to your firstborn child! And you’re standing here looking like ass!”

“She’s having twins.”

Nakia scoffed, “You are unbelievable! Stop using me and this failed relationship as an excuse to avoid facing your fears. Call me to work on this marriage when you grow the fuck up.” The young bride stormed out of the dining room and ran into a servant carrying an armful of baby gifts “I’m so sorry princess, I just-“

“Please it was my fault. Who are the gifts for?”

“The King and Queen had them created for a friend's baby in the states, but they were accidentally left behind. They just messaged asking for someone to bring them along after them.” The staff member explained. Nakia bit her lip and decided to say her next sentence before she could overthink it, “I will take them.”

“Oh my baby,” Phylicia James rushed into the hospital room and pulled her groaning daughter into her arms. “Hi mommy,” Zoe-Iman smiled after her latest round of contractions passed. The older woman grinned and proceeded to smother her daughter in kisses. “I can’t believe my little busy bee is having a baby.”

“Busy bee?” Michael grinned sitting up in the armchair he’d been half-heartedly following a football game from. “Don’t start with me Jordan,” Iman warned as her boyfriend raised his arms in defeat. Zoe’s mom walked over to the young man and flicked him in the head before giving him a hug. “Be kind to my baby. One day you gonna want her to push your big-headed kids out. So you need this to go as smoothly as possible.”

“Where’s daddy?” The mother to be asked as she waved a hand, signaling for someone to help her sit up. “Probably still trying to find a park.” Phylicia glanced out the window once Michael stood to help her daughter shift in the bed. “It’s gotten crowded?”

“Nope, Geoffrey is just very particular about who gets to park next to old Heathcliff.” Mrs. James rolled her eyes and took a seat on the window sill. Eyeing the way the actor helped her daughter through the contractions that had just set in. He was rubbing her hand and back as she squeezed, breathed, and groaned her way through the birthing pre-game.

“Did you let T’Challa know you were in labor?”Zoe nodded as Michael helped her get comfortable in the bed. “I text Shuri on the way over here. She said they were in their way. It’ll be a couple of hours yet.”

“You’re still not talking to that boy directly?” Phylicia frowned. “He has a wife, mama. He didn’t wanna share his number but the rest of his family wanted to be in contact.”

“So you don’t know if he’s coming?”

Zoe shook her head, “but we’ll be fine either way. I got me and my babies. I got you and Michael and daddy. Their other grandparents and their uncle. They got enough, they don’t need T’Challa.” Zoe’s mother glanced at Michael as he continued to rub her daughter's back. Their glance said it all, Zoe’s face said it all; she was lying. It would crush her if T’Challa missed this. She wanted her children’s father to be there. To hold them and to bond. It was killing her that she had no control over whether or not he would show up.

Zoe tried to secretly wipe away the tears that had gathered as her mother sighed, “Well where are my other daughters?”

“Kenois went to get lunch and Sylia had another patient go into labor too,” Zoe explained. Her mother moved to take a seat at the foot of the bed. “Are you hungry? Did you eat something?”

“Not yet, we were out at dinner when everything started. Kenny is supposed to be bringing me something back.”

“Why didn’t you go,” Phylicia raised an eyebrow at her future son-in-law. “She said I was the only person who wasn’t annoying her,” the actor laughed. “It’s true. I was this close to ruining my friendship with Kenois and I need my job.”

“Girl,” Kenois kissed her teeth as she walked back into the room. “Hey mama,” she hugged Mrs. James before handing the couple their food. “She always over exaggerating. I was just trying to get her to walk around to help with the pain.”

“And I said I wanted to stay in bed,” Zoe mean mugged Kenois as she took the chair Michael was originally sitting in.

“Babycakes, walking could do you and those little ones some good. Help gravity guide them out,” mama James butted in. “Why do you always take Keni’s side? I’m your real daughter,” Iman pouted as her mama held out her hands to pull her upright. “Cause I’m right more often.” Kenois grinned as she stuck out her tongue.

Phylicia shook her head at the girl’s antics, “I swear you two fight like you actually shared a womb.”

“Knock, knock.”

Everyone in the room looked up as the young African Princess and her parents walked into the room. “We didn’t miss anything right?” The teen walked over to give Zoe a hug and her parents followed suit. “Nope it’ll probably be a few hours yet,” Zoe Iman smiled, pulling each member of the family into a hug. She glanced at the door behind them before looking back to the king and Queen. It felt as though the air itself held its breath until the king sighed and shook his head.

“He sends his sincerest regrets that he could not be here. He had an urgent matter to attend to-"

“You do not have to make excuses for him, your majesty if he chooses not to be here. He chooses not to be here. You all made the time and that truly means the world to me, and these children,” Zoe offered a sad smile and caressed her swollen stomach. Queen Ramonda gripped Zoe’s hand and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Tears welled in Zoe’s eyes before Phylicia James cleared her throat.

“Right Mama, this is Her Majesty Queen Mother Ramonda, His majesty King T’Chaka, the brave, and Her Royal Highness Shuri Udaku, of Wakanda. T’Challa’s mother, father, and sister respectively.” Zoe introduced and the two mothers met for a quick hug. “It is so very nice to meet you,” Ramonda smiled. “Zoe talks so highly of you all the time. “Same here, it is an honor your majesty,” Mama James replied. “Please, we are family, No formalities required,” King T’Chaka insisted and Ramonda agreed.

Shuri took a seat at the edge of the bed while the rest of the introductions were made. Soon Zoe-Iman’s father and brother had joined the group and everyone was settled in various places around the spacious private suite. The royal family had made the arrangements as the room needed to be secure for their attendance. Ayo and Okoye stood watch at the door as the hours ticked past. Finally in a whirlwind of screaming, groaning, pushing, and wailing two beautiful babies were brought into the world later that afternoon.

After more hours of cuddling, kissing, passing, loving, and feeding her lovely newborn son and daughter Zoe, and the babies drifted off to sleep. When she awoke again the only other person in the room was King T’Chaka who was now comforting a fussy baby boy in his arms. “I would like you to name him,” Zoe broke the silence a few minutes later, startling the king. He smiled and gently placed the baby back in the hospital bed. “How are you feeling my dear?”

“I am fine. Just a little sore. Where did everyone go?”

“To grab something to eat. Michael just went down to the cafeteria before it closed. The others went to some restaurant Shuri was eager to try. Your mother said she would bring you back something to eat.”

Zoe nodded and the king helped her to sit up. “You were not hungry?”

The king smiled, “My future son-in-law, by proxy, offered to bring me something back. I knew he was tired too so I told him to stay and eat his food before coming back up. It was a miracle to even get him to go that far from you. I like that young man. He is a keeper eh?” Zoe laughed and nodded her head.

“You have made me so proud today Zoe-Iman James. You have given me my first grandchildren. My heart is overflowing and I could never thank you enough. You have made this old man feel young again.”

Zoe smiled, “No thanks are needed. Besides you doing me the honor of naming your grandson.”

“Are you sure, that is his father’s job or your father’s job?”

You are the closest thing here to T’Challa. Probably the closest thing this child will have to T’Challa. You know your son’s heart, and I know you will do his wishes for the naming of his firstborn son well.”

Tears filled T'Chaka's eyes, “Then you will have to give me time to think of the perfect name, my child.”

Zoe grinned. “I have to name them by tomorrow morning for the birth certificate.”

“I shall have a name for you then.”

“May I come in?” Nakia stepped into the doorway before her conscience could stop her again. “Nakia, what a surprise?” The king glanced at Zoe who nodded that she could come in. “I came to bring the gifts you all left behind. For the babies.” The Princess stuttered slightly. Moving closer to the woman who had just given birth to her husband's children. “Thank you, to both of you,” Zoe smiled, hoping to reassure the woman that she was okay with her presence, “this was very kind.”

“I was also hoping that Zoe-Iman and I could talk?”

T’Chaka glanced at Zoe who nodded before he stood. He placed the gift basket with the others before heading for the door. “I’ll join Michael in the cafeteria. Just call if you need anything. Though you are in good hands with Nakia,” the king patted the young bride’s back then took his leave.

The women stared at each other in silence before Nakia spoke, “They are beautiful,” she smiled down at the babies.

“I know. I cannot believe they are mine. Or that there are two of them.” The young women laughed. “I hope there are no ill feelings between us. There are none on my end,” Nakia started.

“There are none on my end either,” Zoe reassured. “You are probably wondering why I came,” Nakia broke the silence that had formed once more. “It had crossed my mind.”

“After they left T’Challa told me that you had gone into labor. I know that T’Challa being here was the best-case scenario but, I know that technically I am the babies’ stepmother and I wanted to be here for them. To support them. I know they have a lot of support already, but I wanted you to know that I am on their team as well. When they see me I will love and take care of them as if they were my own. No matter what T’Challa decides to do.”

The new mother smiled as tears rolled down her cheeks, “Stupid hormones,” she sniffed as Nakia giggled. “Thank you, truly. These children are more loved than I could ever have imagined.”

“And forever that way it shall stay,” Nakia glanced at the sleeping newborns, “forever it shall stay.”

“Would you like to hold one?” Zoe asked as she noticed the woman glancing at the gurgling newborns.

“Oh I couldn’t-“

“Yes you can,” Zoe smiled, “I trust you. I see how you stare at them with nothing but love in your eyes.”

Nakia teared up as Zoe had her pulled the cribs closer so she could lift the babies out. She lifted her daughter and pressed a kiss to her small forehead, “I haven’t told anyone but Michael yet, her name is Ka’aulani.” Zoe rocked the infant before placing her gently in Nakia’s hands.

“That is beautiful.” Zoe watched silent tears fall as Nakia interacted with the infant. “Nakia, are you alright?”

The woman laughed and wiped her eyes, “I just am overwhelmed for I fear I may never have this moment myself.”

“Why do you say that? I am sure T’Challa would not mind giving you a child.” Zoe reassured leaning over to fix the blanket around the baby once Nakia had taken a seat. “I am sure he wouldn’t,” the princess laughed dryly, “however it is me that is not so sure she wants to have a child with him. He has changed. The old T’Challa would move hell and high water to be here. This new prince, he makes excuses to protect himself. Any child we make would not be created out of love. I don’t want him to be there just because he feels obligated because we are married. I’ve only ever wanted to make a child out of love. Like these precious ones.”

Zoe nodded, “I am not sure how much these two were made out of love. It seemed more like alcohol was responsible for these two.”

“What do you mean?”

“T’Challa and I were both drunk-“

“T’Challa cannot get drunk,” Nakia frowned. Zoe laughed at her straight face, “He may want you all to believe that but he was all the way messed up. Stumbling all over the place, rambling about wanting to marry me and everything-“

“Zoe, if he said that, it was not the alcohol speaking. T’Challa can drink enough for 30 grown men and still only feel a slight buzz. I know this sounds crazy but now is not the time and place to explain. Just now that our country’s rulers are given a special ‘miracle drug’ if you will that helps their bodies function better than most humans.”

“So T’Challa was completely sober when that night happened?”

“Yes, and if you were drunk, he knows better than to take advantage-“

“I wasn’t,” Zoe interrupted, turning to hide her face. “You were not drunk either?”

“No, I just said that cause it was easier than admitting the truth. Do you know how it feels to give in to someone who you swore would never get to be in your presence again?”

Nakia nodded and looked up from the sleeping infant in her arms, “I married him.”

The room fell into silence again. “I forget how similar our situations really are.”

“Similar but not the same. He is truly in love with you. I highly suspect he always will be.” Nakia readjusted the baby in her arms.

“There will always be love for him in my heart but I have moved on. I’m starting a new chapter. I am in love with Michael.”

“I can tell, “Nakia giggled, “At the wedding, it looked more like you two were newlyweds. Dancing out on the balcony in your own little world.”

Iman blushed, “He makes me extremely happy.” She reached into the blanket and fished out her daughter's fist that’d she began waving in her sleep.

“I hope that I find something that magical one day,” Nakia sighed, “and finally get to have the family I want.”

Zoe pulled Nakia in for a hug. “These two are here for you to visit anytime you would like. If T'Challa is not treating you how he should, I say leave him. I know it is not that easy and I cannot pretend to know the stress and pressure you are under as a member of the royal family, and it may be the American in me, but you deserve a happy life too.”

Nakia nodded and smiled as Ka’aulani wrapped her tiny hand around her pointer finger and yawned. “I will think about it.” Naki smiled at Zoe before both of their attentions were pulled by Zoe’s crying baby boy.

“Aww baby,” Zoe cooed before another male voice interrupted her. “Aht Aht! You are supposed to be in bed.” Michael frowned as he placed the food bags on the counter. “And what just let my baby scream his lungs out?”

“He just needs him a little Mikey. I got this,” the actor cradled the infant in his arms and rocked him back and forth. “See?” He grinned as the little boy opened his eyes and stared up at the man. Zoe shook her head and scooted back into the bed. “Nakia,” Michael offered a somewhat confused greeting once he noticed the princess cuddling the twin in front of him. “Nice to see you again Mr. Jordan.”

“Likewise, is T’Challa here?”

“No,” Nakia shook her head, “I come alone but I must confess that I did indeed try to persuade him. But it looks like the twins have an amazing father figure already.”

“I will do my best,” Michael grinned and bounced the young boy in his arms. “So when will you make an honest woman out of my friend?” The future queen teased as the young couple broke into laughter. “As soon as she lets me,” the man grinned and Zoe rolled her eyes.

“Oh lord. Don’t get him started. He already told everyone to call me Mrs. Jordan at all of my appointments.”

“I think it’s cute,” Nakia smiled.

“I just wanna be back to my old figure before we even embark on that journey,” Zoe smiled watching her lover and newfound friend cuddle her children.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Michael pressed a kiss to her lips and Nakia felt her heart soar at the fact that Zoe had found someone to love her. At that moment, she knew what she needed to do.

“Nakia?” King T’Chaka called.

“My king,” the princess stood and bent her head slightly to acknowledge the King’s presence.

“May I speak with you in the hall for a moment?”

The princess laid the baby girl in Zoe’s arms and let Michael take her spot on the bed. “Yes, my king?” Nakia shut the suite door behind her.

“I owe you an apology. I pressured myself, your father, and T’Challa into believing you were the only option and robbed you of the chance to a happy marriage. For that, I could never apologize enough.”

“It is okay. I still made the decision to go along with it. Even when I realized T’Challa was not in love with me.”

“You made the choice out of a feeling of duty and responsibility. That is not how you choose a spouse. In three days the 90-day annulment agreement is off the table. If you wish to leave T’Challa and this marriage, I wrote a loophole into the contract. It will be done quietly and you will be allowed to retain all that you have and your place in the royal family if you so choose.”

Tears welled in Nakia’s eyes. She threw her arms around the king and cried, “Thank you.”

The king pulled back, “Go and be happy dear girl. You only have one life to live. Make the decisions that are best for you.”

“My prince,” a servant knocked on T’Challa’s office door and he waved her in. “Your mother is requesting your presence at a hospital in America.”

The man rubbed his forehead, “Please tell my mother I am not planning to join them on this family excursion-“

“But my prince,”

“Please. That is all I have to say on the matter-“

“Forgive me for interrupting but it is your father. He is not doing well. She wishes that you join them to say goodbye, kumkani wam.”

The blood drained from T’Challa’s face when the staff member addressed him as the king for the first time. With those two words, she said everything he needed to know.

“Have Oneka ready a jet-“

“She is already waiting and a bag has been packed as well.” T’Challa nodded and jogged on to the hey as servants paused to bow to him, their first acknowledgment of him as a king.

“Why won’t they bring him here?” T’Challa asked his co-pilot Oneka as they lifted off into the sky minutes later.

“From what Okoye has reported, he is refusing. He wants to spend his final hours with his children and grandchildren. He also is saying that he has unfinished business at the hospital.”

“Unfinished business?”

“No one is quite sure but I am almost positive it has something to do with his new grandchildren.”

“So I assume you know what is truly going on at the hospital?”

“Ayo and Onoye made me aware a while ago at the king's request. I am to be in charge of the children’s security when they are here on Wakandan soil.”

“I am glad, they could not be in better hands.”

The woman nodded, “I am grateful for the compliment but I disagree. The best hands they could be in are yours. Yet you are here with me.”

T’Challa’s face hardened, “That is none of your concern.”

The rest of the hour-long plane ride went by in silence, with the new father staring out of the window. He thanked the warrior after she walked him up to his father’s room. “I am going to go see the babies. Ayo is already inside.” Oneka bowed her head before sheathing her spear and walking off down the hall.

The son took a deep breath before pushing open the door to his father’s room, “Baba?”

“Uyana wam,” the king pushed himself up in the bed. T’Challa rushed to help him up the rest of the way. “Where are mama and Shuri?”

“I sent them back to keep Zoe and the babies company so we could talk alone.”

“What happened,” T’Challa pulled up a chair to his father's bedside, “you were fine when you left.”

“The official diagnosis is a blood clot in my brain, but Bast has visited me and I know that my time is near. I will not walk out of this hospital alive T’Challa, and I want to right my wrongs. My last wrong, being you.”

“What-“

“I gave you the idea that an outsider could never be a good match. But after meeting Zoe-Iman, I am glad to say that I was wrong T’Challa. I am not saying go win her back. I have seen how happy she is and she is like a daughter to me. Therefore I see it as my duty to protect her from knuckleheads who will hurt her, my own son included. You will find another love T'challa. But those children you created, need a father. I would hate to pass on and think my discouragement led to them missing their father.”

“Baba I can’t-“

“You can and you will. As your king, I command it.” T’Chaka leaned back on his pillows and grabbed a letter off of his bedside. “Since you were not present, Zoe asked me to name your son in your place. But you are here now. If you would like to name the baby, then by all means go ahead, but please deliver that letter to Zoe. If you choose not to name the baby it outlines the name I have chosen. Either way. My dying wish is that you join those children’s lives now and love them like a father should. Train them in the Wakandan ways so that you may experience the joy I have had simply holding them as a grandfather.”

The king held the letter out for his son who took it and stared as if it might detonate at any moment. “Take it, I want you to see those babies. Goodbye Uyana wam. Kiss my grandchildren goodbye for me.”

Tears streamed down T’Challa’s face as he shook his head, “Baba please,” he croaked as the king closed his eyes one final time. Nurses, doctors, his mother, Shuri, and guards rushed into the room as the king flatlined. His son’s tears soaked the sheets and Ramonda had to move him away so the professionals could do their job.

Shuri pulled her older brother into a hug as their mother went to kiss her husband goodbye before he was rolled out of the room. Once T'Chaka was rolled out of the room towards the jet for his final flight home she noticed the envelope in his hand.

“What is this?” The queen grabbed the envelope from her son but he stopped her, “He wrote it for Zoe. She asked him to name the babies.”

“I’m going to go say goodbye, so you can see Zoe alone,” Shuri wiped her face stepping back from T’Challa’s hug. “I’m right behind you” the mother turned back to her son, “Make him proud. Be the man he knew you could be.” She patted the new king’s cheeks.

T’Challa thumbed with the flap of the envelope while trailing behind his mother and sister. Laughter caught his attention and he found himself peering through the hall windows into Zoe’s room. The love of his life was nestled in between the legs and arms of another man, his wife was holding his daughter as his mother pressed a kiss to her forehead, and Shuri was rocking the infant wearing a blue cap. His son. Sadness and happiness flooded his heart in equal parts. Before the scene could do irreparable damage he knocked on the door and fiddled with the envelope.

“Challa,” Zoe called, sadness laced the curves of her voice and the king knew that he couldn’t look up and face her pity for too long. “Iman,” the king moved closer in the room. “Before my father passed, he wrote this for you and the babies. I do not know what it says but he was adamant that made it you.”

“Thank you. Did he mention the name?”

“He said his answer was enclosed in the letter.”

Zoe nodded and everyone looked up at the king expectantly. He walked over to his mother, sister, and wife. He smiled, caressed each of the babies' faces, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads before moving back. “Thank you,” he turned to Zoe, trying to fight the frown on his face at seeing Michael kiss her forehead to comfort her. “They are beautiful.”

Zoe offered a small smile. “I will be waiting in the jet.” The king turned on his heel and strolled quickly out of the room. Nakia sighed and handed Ka’aulani to her mother. Shuri placed the baby boy in Iman’s other arm before pressing a final kiss to his small head.

“That was probably the best he could muster. You two get some rest and we will let you know about the homegoing celebration tomorrow.” Ramonda sighed and pulled Zoe into a hug of her own and placed a kiss on her forehead. She ran a finger over each of her grandchildren’s faces before leading the way out to the jet. “Wait,” Shuri poked her head back in the room. Your son, what is his name?”

Zoe waved the letter, “We will have to ask your father.”

“Give me my niece and nephew,” Shuri pulled the week-old babies from their carriers once the family was alone in the castle once more. T’Chaka’s funerals had been a days-long celebration of his life. Wakandans rejoiced at his transition to an ancestor and prepared for the coronation of a new king.

T'Challa was nowhere to be found but Ramonda chose to focus on the little ones her daughter was cuddling close. Her heart hurt for the loss of her husband, but she took comfort in having the babies close as their arrival was on his lips and smile until he took his last breath. “Thank you all for coming,” the Queen Mother smiled. “Of course, we wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I am just glad the doctors here were able to get me back on my feet in time.” Zoe-Iman brushed her daughter's hair back. Michael nodded in agreement and pulled his girlfriend in closer. “Did you ever figure out the name situation?” Shuri bounced the babies gently. “Yeah, meet Ka’aulani Akhona Udaku and Meluzmi Bathandwa Udaku.”

What do they mean?” Ramonda smiled at the thought she knew her daughter-in-law and husband had put into the children’s names. “Ka’aulani Akhona means the sacred royal gift. And King T’Chaka said Meluzmi Bathandwa means the beloved who represents home.”

Tears pricked Ramonda’s eyes. “That was almost T’Challa’s name. He always said he would give it to his first grandson,” the queen smiled and Zoe moved over to hug her. “He tried to insist I choose someone else, but I knew he would do my son justice.”

Michael cleared his throat, “he also gave me this letter addressed to the both of you.”

The actor handed the letter to the queen as she frowned. The babies started fussing and Zoe went to feed them in the corner. “Zoe-Iman,”

T’Challa stood in the doorway, “May I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Zoe handed her daughter off to Michael, before following the king down the hall into his office. T’Challa held open the door as the mother of his children and an estranged best friend walked through the door. “It looks nice,” Zoe ran a hand over the upholstered chairs placed in front of the large window. “Thank you.”

“You should put some pictures up. Make it feel more homey.”

“What is wrong with it how it is?”

“It feels stiff. You’re here, but it’s a shell of you.”

“You sound like Nakia.”

Zoe shrugged,” She’s known you for a long time. That’s why you married her right? You two were close as children?” T’Challa took a seat in his chair, “We are getting a divorce.”

“I am sorry, I did not know. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly,” T’Challa slipped off his sandals,” Relieved. I hated making Nakia unhappy. Maybe it is best that I am alone right now.”

“You are never alone,” Iman interrupted, “ We are all still here for you, especially right now during this time.”

“I know, I have a lot to rediscover. A lot to learn, about being a father, an ex-husband, a king, and a better friend. I am truly sorry for how I treated you, Zoe. I should have been there for you as a friend and as the father of our children.”

Zoe nodded, “I know, but like I told you. That was a promise to your children, not me. They need actions, not words.”

“I know, that is why I wanted to talk. I will be publicly claiming the twins as my heirs at my coronation. That will mean that they will have to spend part of the year here, with me. I want them to spend part of the year here with me. I will come and visit now since they are too young but we will have to-”

Zoe teared up and wrapped T’Challa in a hug, “I’ll do whatever it takes. I trust you, and I want nothing more for them to love and know you.”

“Thank you,” T’Challa sniffed when Zoe pulled back from the hug. “Of course, I would never keep them from you-”

“No, I mean...you have no reason to trust me after all the mess I put you through, but you do and I can do nothing but thank you and work to make my children proud. To make you and my father proud.”

“You will, we all just want to see the old T’Challa come back. For you to find happiness again.”

“We will see, but for now, my children are enough.”

“Then you should meet them properly.” Zoe reminded and the king stood and slipped on his shoes. “I know. I had been thinking, and it is okay if you’re not comfortable, but I could give you and Michael a break. For the night before you all head back tomorrow afternoon. The twins can stay here with me. Mother and Shuri helping of course.”

Zoe smiled, “I think that is a great idea, but something is missing.”

“We have a nursery and you can pump-”

“No, but I think you should at least know the babies’ names and hold them before you decide to have them over for the night. Not that I don’t think you will like them or vice versa, but what will you call them when they are crying if you don’t know them and they don’t know you?”

T’Challa frowned, “I hadn’t thought of it.”

“That is why they have a mother and a father. It is all easily fixed if you’d come to see the rest of the family. Everyone is worried about you, isolating yourself.”

The couple trailed out of the office and back down the hall to the living room, “I know, but I was dealing with the guilt of my actions. I just needed some time to wade through and process how I was feeling.”

“It is always hard losing a father T’Challa. We understand and we are just trying to help.”

“I know, but it was just not about my father… I lost the love of my life as well.”

“T’Challa-”

“I am not trying to win you over, I am just giving you an explanation. It was a selfish move, but it hurt so bad to see you happy and in love. To see another man treating you how I should have been doing. However, I am happy you are receiving the love you deserve.”

Zoe nodded, “Thank you. I’m truly happy and that means a lot.”

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

[csykora]

Hello again! I've been meaning to ask about these two, but I was too nervous. What kind of gowns would Anze Kopitar and Adrian Kempe get? Also, the the gown you chose for PLD was really lovely.

Thank you for the lovely idea! I’m sorry this took a while: my research process is terrible. 

Reminder for everyone new or who forgot: Gowns are for Everyone is my irregular feature on who should wear what.

Anže Kopitar

Anže is a doll, and it is not his fault he has to wear black so much.

The all-black jersey is like your gal pal Anže’s kind of crummy boyfriend. It has its good qualities, and I know you’ve been together a long time, but it’s just not The One for you, honey.

I want to see this man wear a sack. His ideal garment is somewhere between a beach cover-up and a Snuggie. Ideally, a pastel sack. Maybe gold. I do like the idea of keeping it metallic for the Kings.

My search for the perfect sack is leading me to the 1930s. I don’t want any stiff construction or tight fit, just drape. (And he does have that open, oval face with the surprised eyes under curls, which makes him look a bit like a lady in a Mucha print.)

I like this 1937 gown by Jeanne Lanvin, in a creamsicle-peach-pink synthetic. It has a sash at the waist for just a little shape, and little shoulder cap sleeves. The front is decorated with lots of swirling ironwork-like metallic sequin curls. The color’s breezy but it’s still got dignity.

Adrian Kempe

Can pull off the black. I feel like I ought to apologize to the jersey, which looks great on most of the people who wear it. I do love the effect of the slim trim lines, and I’m still liking metallics, so I’d go with this Geoffrey Beene mini dress in black silk and angular silver lamé with a sneaky thin line of sheer lace across the the front and down the side.

[deputychairman]

3, 12, and 20, for the books of the year meme :)

THANK YOU friend cortue for enabling me to reclaim that unpaid overtime by answering the book meme at work!

3) What were your top five books of the year?

Obviously this is the only question that really matters and people have kindly asked it several times, so this time I will reply with books that were published this year only:

Hilary Mantel, The Mirror and the Light

Maggie O’Farrell, Hamnet

Ann Patchett, The Dutch House

How Much of These Hills is Gold, C Pam Zhang (just finished this is was AMAZING, it’s both a successful western in its own right and a subversion of what a western is and the general concept of The West.)

Love and Other Thought Experiments, Sophie Ward

12) Any books that disappointed you?

Honestly, no, but you know when you love a book so much that you have to read more by that author and then the next one you pick up is good too but it isn’t THAT book that you just finished and actually wanted to read more of but there wasn’t any? I loved The Dutch House A LOT and Bel Canto wasn’t The Dutch House, for which it can hardly be blamed

20) What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?

This is what I mean that many of my answers will be Hilary Mantel, The Mirror and the Light. I have anticipated this book POSSIBLY since A Level history in 1997 and definitely since Wolf Hall blew us all away in 2009. You may THINK you don’t care about the Tudor revolution in government but you DO, and perhaps you would like to join me in comparing historian Geoffrey Elton’s motivations as a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany in exploring the origins of the machinery of English government (the ‘right answer’ when I was at school was “because he was interested in why Hitler was able to happen in Germany and not elsewhere”, which is debatable but an interesting theory), and why pre-eminent novelist Hilary Mantel might be interested in these times of Brexit in examining the machinery of  English government via the lens of Hexit (Henry VIII breaking with Rome for Domestic Reasons, AKA Brexit 1.0, Original Flavour). Yes yes she started writing in like 2006 but All Of This Has Happened Before and I dare say a good writer could see it coming.

It’s also a book about power, how to keep it and how to manage people who have too much of it. We all read through the filter of our own experience and I read it as a treatise on surviving (or not) a boss with absolute power over you, and it tracked terrifyingly neatly into working in a family company where there are no clear objectives and the only standard by which anything can be judged is “does the CEO like it”, when the CEO is capricious and unpredictable and anything they don’t like has to be somebody’s FAULT (but not theirs). How they play at being friends and their self-image is as a good & merciful ruler, but you know and they know that they could have your head cut off whenever they like.

“You can be merry with the king, you can share a joke with him. But as Thomas More used to say, it's like sporting with a tamed lion. You tousle its mane and pull its ears, but all the time you're thinking, those claws, those claws, those claws.”

[minervacasterly]

"Even working in haste it took twenty-one years to construct and furnish a palace that would conform exactly to the king’s demanding tastes. Philip gathered the riches of his empire not only for his personal satisfaction but also to honor God and Saint Lawrence, whose grisly martyrdom had inspired the architectural plan and after whom the great church of the Escorial was named. Saint Lawrence had died on a gridiron, and Philip’s palace was laid out accordingly. At the center of the grid was placed the monastery church, hidden, except for its great dome, by the towering walls of monastic cells and royal apartments. In vaults beneath the church rested the family coffins filled with Hapsburg bodies; alongside the church was located Philip’s bedchamber, equipped with a shuttered peephole through which the king could look out on the Hieronymite monks in prayer before the high altar of Saint Lawrence. In lonely eminence, God’s lieutenant on earth wrapped himself in the mantle of divinity and meditated upon the heavy responsibilities of kings. Philip allowed himself a single luxury: As monarch of twenty-seven kingdoms and an empire upon which the sun never set, he could indulge his collector’s instinct, and even before the Escorial was finished, the king had turned it into a vast library and reliquary. Books, manuscripts, relics, oddities, and rarities poured in from agents all over the world. Philip had been educated in the Renaissance tradition of learning; his library with its 30,000 volumes and 4,000 manuscripts was no less precious to him than the shelves upon which were placed in rich settings the arm of Saint Lawrence, two bones of the apostles Philip and James, and the remains of Saint Justus and Saint Pastor. Every facet of Philip’s character found expression in the Escorial - his coldness, his pedantry, his magpie instinct, his austerity, his passion for privacy, and above all, his sense of divine mission. For all his golden locks, Hapsburg chin, and Germanic complexion, Philip was the perfect Spaniard. He was at home in the land of Ignatius Loyola and Saint Theresa and her barefooted Carmelites, where every man’s soul was his castle and the Lord walked “among the pots and pans.”

- The Elizabethan World by Lacey Baldwin Smith

I have to say, for a so called crypt, El Escorial is beyond outstanding. It is f***ing gorgeous. A better breakdown of this architectural jewel is offered in Geoffrey Parker and Henry Kamen's respective biographies of Philip II of Spain. The former historian is critical of him, while the latter excuses some of his poor decisions and flaws. Yet, even Kamen criticizes him without turning him into a Victorian foil by contrasting his failures or religiosity with Queen Elizabeth's pragmatic approach towards the religious divisions in her realm.

And I do not fault Lacey Baldwin Smith, or any other historian for doing this. The book after all focuses on the Elizabethan age and has the purpose on highlighting the accomplishments of her reign and aggrandizing these to overlook Elizabeth's flaws and failures (which are mentioned). But as usual, it is best to read every book, with obvious or honest bias or not, to be read alongside other history or academic works, so readers can see for themselves the architecture discussed is much more than how it is described and make up their minds on historical figures.

[chaos-family]

All credit to @janus-come-back-to-us for this story. Its og form is a bit hard to follow due to changing blogs so here it is in one piece! It’s from our dear lawyer’s perspective (in case you couldn’t tell) and the “you” is Orange. Enjoy!

Alright, it technically started on 11:47 of March 26th

That’s basically how the toys r us looked, at first, because it was a dark and stormy night.

I had just left from a courtroom, and was finally outside for the first time in months, when I suddenly heard screams… lots and lots of screams…

I turned around, and there was the ambassador of France, and yourself.

You had lit their pants on fire, calling them a liar.

The ambassador was, obviously, enraged. They had sent security after you, so many bulky men were running at a child.

You, being the spawn of chaos you are, was about to shoot porcupine spikes at a bunch of security men and the ambassador of France.

Me, being me, saw the ambassador sobbing, and thought this would be an amazing case to get me a ton of money.

Instead, she thought I was affiliated with you— probably because of the orange shirt I was wearing at the time— so she shrieked, “OH GOD NOT ANOTHER ONE!!”

You, also thinking I was in on it (for some reason?) grinned, and threw a larger porcupine towards me to use against everyone.

I caught the porcupine without injuring it or myself, but when I looked up, half of security was surrounding me.

I didn’t really know what to do. All I ever knew had to do with the law, and it was a prominent one to not attack security, nor the ambassador of France.

You didn’t seem to care. Infact, you poked your porcupine on some random spot (I never got a good enough look) and instantly hit several security guards square in the chest with spikes.

(They didn’t die, but I’m pretending they did for the dramatics of it all)

With all of those men on the ground, at your feet, the ambassador was shaking. The ones around me were frozen in fear, even as I gently placed my porcupine down.

You took one step towards us, and instantly, all of the guards fled. I would’ve been impressed if I wasn’t so confused.

The ambassador flicked her gaze between us both, her mouth opening and closing, like she was trying to say something.

You picked up the porcupine at my feet, and scratched a bit roughly on it. It’s skin and spikes came off like paint— because they literally were paint— revealing a zhu-zhu pet.

The ambassador slowly, shakily, raised a pointed finger at us. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her skull in terror. She screamed, “I’LL GET YOU BOTH FOR THIS!! YOU HEAR ME?? YOU’LL BE LOCKED AWAY FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!” Before running off with her security.

Naturally, I was terrified. I was getting accused for crimes by the ambassador of France, and didn’t know what to do.

You had just laughed good-heartidly, like this was something you did all the time. You show me a kind smile, before saying, “hey, wanna go to toys r us?”

I blinked, “what?”

“My family’s shopping over there.” You shrugged, as if you didn’t just knock out several security guards and burn the ambassador of France’s pants. And possibly her legs. “So? Wanna come along?”

I gave a puff of a laugh, y’know, the way you do when you’re feeling like you’re in a fever dream. “I— I guess??”

We arrived to find the entire family shopping. I didn’t recognize anyone— obviously, I didn’t know anyone at the time— but you dragged me over to the zhu-zhu pet section.

I looked around in awe. Some of these sets didn’t look like toys, they looked like weapons. There were armories, training sets (of various types!!), blacksmith sets, it was like a medieval knight paridise. But for zhu-zhu pets.

You had looked around, trying to find something, I suppose, but my head was reeling from your earlier stunt with the ambassador of France.

My gaze travelled to a ceiling corner, as I watched the security camera zero-in on us. The lens expanded, the flickering red light sped up, and over the store’s microphones, I heard,

“We have a code orange with an accomplice, I repeat, a code orange with an accomplice. This is not a drill.”

Followed shortly after by an exasperated, suffering sigh, and a loud “ORANGE WHAT DID I SAY??” From across the store.

Geoffrey the giraffe came out of the back door, with several weapons on hand. But we didn’t see those for awhile, for he had decided to arrive in a tank.

You, somehow, threw a zhu-zhu pet into the middle of the tank-shooter-thing-that-I’m-too-lazy-too-look-up-the-name-for, before bolting out of that section specifically. I followed you, not wanting to get exploded by Geoffrey.

We rounded a corner to find parent one, their arms crossed across their chest, giving the most parental look I could ever imagine. “Orange.” They said, lowly, “what—“

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault!!” You interrupted, as if we hadn’t ran across an entire store after burning the ambassador of France’s— “I was showing my new buddy around!! So obviously, I had to show ‘em the zhu-zhu pets too!!”

Parent one looked at me then, which must’ve been the least not-guilty I’ve ever looked. Covered in rain from the storm, still trying to catch my breath from running across the store, still frazzled from the ambassador of France moment, I wasn’t exactly the pinnicle of neat.

So, very dignified, and totally not weakly, I gave a small wave, muttering, “hi?”

Parent one looked at me, unimpressed, letting out another suffering sigh. “How much did she offer?”

I blinked, “huh?”

“How much?” Parent one releated, opening their wallet, “you’re not going to actually get whatever amount they promised, but I can give you $20 or something, for the trouble.”

“I didn’t offer anything!” You said, very smugly, “they joined in the fun!!”

“Actually, I—“ I began, but Geoffrey had caught up to us. Parent one merely waved at the giraffe in the tank, but you had looked ready to run.

Quickly, little lego men had left the tank, scattering lego’s all over the store’s floor. It would’ve been a painful nightmare to escape now, unless you had shoes on.

Unfortunately, neither of us did. We dropped them off at the entrance earlier, since they were soaked in mud and rainwater.

“You can’t escape now, Orange.” Geoffrey said, aiming their clogged shooter-thing right at us. My eyes widened at the sight, especially when the lego men began to build their own canon with their spare legos, “this is the last time I allow you to rob me of my zhu-zhu pets.”

 The canon was loading up, about to fire at any minute. My breathing quickened, panic coursing through me. Your glare at the giraffe only hardened, like you wanted him to try and stop you. Parent one remained exasperated, but calmly moved out of the way (a perk of having shoes).

The only reason why we weren’t blasted into smithereens, was due to a cryptid behind the tank, slowly rising in all of her cryptic glory. My jaw dropped at the sight, but you only grinned.

Geoffrey‘s tank was engulfed in shadows, and I never figured out what happened to it. All you said was “quickly, make shoes out of the legos!!” Which is what we did, before running out of that area of the store.

Unfortunately, Geoffrey was prepared. Around another corner, La La Loopsey dolls had begun to surround us, with needles and string in their hands. Very reminiscent of Coraline. You looked unfazed, even as they began to approach us with doll-like chants.

“What the hell do we do now??” I painted out, as you looked around for an exit.

“More like, what the hell did you do??” Came a voice. Turning around, we saw the same cryptid from earlier, spitting out a chunk of the tank, like it was a wad of bubblegum.

You grinned, “oh, not much. Just activated a code orange, y’know how it goes.”

“I most certainly do not.” She answered, glaring at you. It didn’t have the same tiredness from parent one, or the malice from Geoffrey. Rather, it looked... playful? “You left me out of the chaos. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such betrayal.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You said, rolling your eyes. “I got a bit preoccupied.”

“Can you two stop bickering so that we don’t get sewn to death??” I said shrilly, as the La La Loopseys started drawing their planned sewing lines onto our legs.

 Anyways, both you and the cryptid finally realized the La La Loopsey’s intentions. You kicked a few away, but double the ones you kicked just took over.

“Quick, what’s your species??” The cryptid asked me.

“Uh— human?? What is going—”

“Damn, so nothing supernatural.” She said, letting out a huff.

“Quick, give me another doll brand!” You said, so the cryptid left (she was the only one not trapped) to find another doll.

I didn’t really have time to question the purpose of that, since you and I were trying to kick away the onslaught of La La Loopsey’s. “Seriously, what is happening??” I asked, exhausted.

“A typical Tuesday.” You answered, “though I’ll admit, these guys normally aren’t so persistent.”

“So this has happened before??” I turned towards you, flabbergasted, “do you have any idea how many laws we’ve broken?? We’ve assaulted security, and the ambassador of France, you committed arson with that stunt too. We’ve trespassed and area you’re clearly not allowed in. We’re committing property damage, currently—“

“Oh don’t be such a worry wart.” You said, flinging a doll across the aisle, “I just use monopoly money to bail out of jail.”

Monopoly... money...

I didn’t know what happened next (later, after the incident, parent one had filled me in), because I froze from the mention of the horrid money I was so used to losing from in court. You didn’t realize what had happened, and the cryptid hadn’t arrive.

The La La Loopseys— and in turn, Geoffery— were winning.

All seemed lost, for awhile.

You had been kicking La La Loopseys away from yourself and me, and for about 10 minutes, you had begun to worry.

The cryptid came awhile later, throwing a limited edition Barbie doll towards you. “Geoffery was prepared,” she said, “but luckily, I found her in the backroom.”

You wasted little time, quickly ripping the box open, displaying Barbie in all of her glory. The La La Loopsey dolls hissed, quickly losing interest in you and me, as they practically ripped the Barbie from your hands to assault her instead.

She will be missed.

You and the cryptid had to drag me away from the scene, finding a brief hideout in the backroom. “What happened to them?” The cryptid asked, flicking my forehead.

“I dunno, I just said something about Monopoly money, and—“

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING OUT OF THIS COURTROOM JEFFERSON!!” I hollared, stunning you and the cryptid for a moment. Apparently, the Monopoly money mentioned had made me automatically think I was in a courtroom, and my brain had been trying to calculate the amount of crimes I had to go against (that, and apparently I thought I was arguing against Thomas Jefferson, for some reason). I panted, trying to catch my bearings as you and the cryptid just stared silently for a moment. “... we aren’t in court, huh?”

“Not unless you count toys r us to be a courtroom.” You replied, “seriously, are you good?”

“No, I’m Green.” I answered, “a lawyer, in theory. Not one that typically gets chased down by giraffes and dolls.”

“So not a legitimate lawyer?”

“Shut up.”

Briefly, I learned who you, and the cryptid— Cerse, apparently— were, and that took enough time for some of the boxes to start opening from the inside.

Crawling out of them, at first, was a line up of toy story characters, which wasn’t so bad. But then the slinkies got out, and quickly used their dog heads and butts to wrap around all three of us.

Try as we may, escaping was futile.

Geoffery came around the corner, slowly clapping his hands. “Wow, and here I thought you might actually get away. But, as chaotic as you think you are,” he drawled, leaning in close towards us, “I’m always a step ahead.”

“I thought you took care of him.” You hissed at Cerse, once Geoffery leaned away.

“I did.” Cerse insisted, but it didn’t matter now. Geoffery snapped his hands (somehow?? How did that work he’s a giraffe??), and several buzz lightyears had turned on their wings, ready for the command to onslaught us.

“I’m rather impressed, y’know.” He said, turning around like some cartoon villain. “I never thought you’d keep trying, after coming here the 34th time.”

You snickered. I never learned what had happened the 34th time.

“But now,” he continued, turning his head a bit to study all three of us, “I have you right where I want you. And your little friends too. If you won’t pay in legitimate money, then I’ll make you pay for damages with your life.”

The slinkies tightened their grip. I thought all hope was lost.

Until, of course, I heard a car coming towards us.

Everything that happened next was a whirl of colors. The chaos family had stolen a car— somehow fitting everyone inside— with both parents in the front seat. Parent two shot at the slinkies with a nerf gun, making them relinquish their hold. You and Cerse stood quickly, running for the car, and I did my best to follow.

Geoffery was faster, however. He grabbed my arm before I could reach y’all, and held a surprisingly firm grip for a giraffe. “NOBODY MOVE!!” He shouted, several buzz lightyears flying behind him, “OR I SEND THE SPACE TROOPS AFTER EVERYONE.”

You looked between me and Geoffrey, and in a split-second decision, threw a box of matches at us, followed by a lit match. Geoffery shrieked in fear, quickly letting me go so that he could escape. I ran as far away from the flames as I could, hopping ontop of the chaos family’s car, before Parent one took a sharp turn, making a dash for the entrance of the store.

“You’re grounded, by the way.” They said, no room for argument in their voice.

You huffed, grumbling, “I figured.”

Outside, we were barely out of the previous— now destroyed— front door, before French military surrounded us. Helicopters, tanks, ground troops, you name it— and infront of all of them, stood the ambassador, her arms crossed.

“Relinquish the Drama Duo.” She said, loudly but calmly, “and nobody gets hurt.”

Slowly, the entire car turned around to look at us, a shared look of “what did you do” on their faces.

I know that says US but pretend it says French.

“What.” Parent one began, “did you two. Do.”

“I swear I didn’t have anything to do with this.” I said, raising my hands up defensively. No one seemed convinced, but at least they were more skeptical of you than me.

“I wasn’t trying to start anything.” You said, crossing your arms, staring at the ground. “Honest. I was just at the convenience store earlier, buying matches— y’know how it is. And when I went to pay for them, the cashier said Monopoly money didn’t count. I called her a liar. She called me a phony. Long story short, I found her tonight when she was walking to her car with a bunch of men. And I lit her pants on fire. I didn’t think she was the ambassador of France.”

“It doesn’t matter who you think they are,” Parent one said, heaving yet another sigh, “you shouldn’t light anyone’s pants on fire.”

“She deserved it.” You grumbled, but didn’t try to argue further.

“And what do you have to do with this?” I blinked, not expecting the sudden attention.

“I swear, I was just getting home from work.” I said, unsure of how to handle Parent one’s calculating gaze, “I only decided to enter the scene because I thought I could make a ton of money as the ambassador to France’s lawyer. I didn’t think this would happen.”

Parent two hummed, “I guess that makes sense. You didn’t seem like the regular accomplice Orange has.” They mused.

“They’re all the same at this point.” Parent one muttered, before turning around to face the ambassador again, “but for now, you’re all gonna want to cover your ears.”

The whole car did as told, with Parent two putting on large earmuffs over Parent one’s head. Parent one inserted a CD into the radio, and turned it all the way up. I didn’t read the disc, but I didn’t have to.

Not when a loud voice rang out, followed by, “the fitness gram pacer test—“

The military men all began to vibrate, as if they were holding themselves back. Several of them left their vehicles, unable to operate them at the time.

The ambassador, slowly, fearfully, turned around she looked terrified, as her top general muttered. “Ma’am... we can’t... we can’t resist...”

“You must.” Shs seethed, but they could barely hear her, “or you’re all fired.”

That made them try to repress their calling more, but it didn’t last for long. As soon as the signal rang, and the music for the first round started, the military ran. They had to prove themselves to be more physically competent than their fellow soldiers. It was a calling in their blood, one that they could never truly resist.

The ambassador shrieked in rage, but it was muffled by Parent one raising the volume. “Sorry, what was that?” They asked, deadpan, as the ambassador’s gaze hardened on our car.

“I’ll— I’ll get you.” She sneered, before shouting, “I’LL GET ALL OF YOU!! EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU WILL BE LOCKED AWAY FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!!”

Talk about a sore loser.

Parent one wasted no more time, at that point. They sped the car up, driving away as soon as Parent two chucked the— somehow working— stereo out the window, keeping the entire military distracted.

“Where are we going??” I asked, barely able to hold on to the roof of the car.

“Home.” Parent one said, “or at least, our current home. Probably gonna have to move out soon ‘cause of Orange.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.” You insisted, even as parent one gave you with an unimpressed look.

“Sure.”

We arrived to the house after a very long drive, where I learned who the rest of the family was. Granted, I couldn’t really keep track of everyone at the time— since I was reeling from everything that had happened that night— but the calmer change of pace was a nice shift from being surrounded by the military.

We arrived at the house, where everyone unloaded their bags and went inside. I only went in because, lets be honest, all of that left me in desperate need of a shower, but I was stopped by the Parent duo— River and Cenn— before I could borrow their bathroom.

“So...” River— Parent two began, “you’re a lawyer?”

“In theory,” I answered, since I had shared a bit about myself during the car ride, “I do mostly criminal cases as the prosecutor. Why, is there any case you’d like me to check out?”

They shared a look with unspoken words, and I couldn’t really tell what they were saying. They turned back to me after a moment, with Cenn— Parent one— saying something, “well, have you tried... defending a criminal, perhaps?”

I blinked owlishly at that, “uh, not really, but I’m trained enough for it.”

Cenn nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, “good. We’ve been looking for someone to help us keep our kids out of jail, but so far—“

“Woah woah woah—“ I cut them off, wringing my wrists, “listen, i appreciate your hospitality and help tonight, but there is no way I can keep these guys,” I paused, motioning towards all the kids to emphasize my point, “guiltless!! Especially if tonight is just a ‘typical Tuesday.’”

River sighed, a bit defeated, but didn’t seem to give up, “look, we wouldn’t persist if we weren’t desperate. At this point, buying monopoly playsets has been more expensive than what court fees would be. Just— start with one kid? If all of them is too much?”

I hesitated. On one hand, trying to make them all seem innocent would be a waste of time, since any judge could look at their track record and immediately have a verdict. But, on the other, the amount of money I could make...

I sighed, my shoulders sagging, “alright, who am I defending first?”

They both huffed a breath of relief, with Cenn turning, calling out “Orange? Could you come here for a moment.”

And that, everyone who decided to stick around, is the toys r us incident (and coincidentally, the night I became Orange’s lawyer). I’m not getting into the aftermath— because I have irl stuff to do— but yeah

note from C: this is a little off according to the master timeline but who cares

[happypeachsludgeflower]

hiya,

here’s a fic i started writing awhile ago featuring Ginny Weasley being a melodramatic 5 y/o and Molly Weasley being a Grump™. there are more notes at the bottom \(★ω★)/

___

A small, lone figure lay sprawled in the jade grass of the orchard, a mass of fiery red curls fanning out around her as she stared up at the eerily swirling clouds with interest. She knew that the sickly, green stain that spread across her vision was a warning. ‘Run,’ it said. ‘Hide.’ But the young child couldn’t find it in herself to care.

If the storm wanted to harm her it would and no hiding would stop it.

Still, her mum would be livid with her when she returned home—furious the five year old hadn’t returned when the approaching storm first reared it’s ugly head across the horizon, roaring its displeasure with each clap of thunder, enlightening the ignorance of mankind as it ripped the sky apart with each flash of lighting. It was a beautiful dance, the child thought, as splatters of rain lightly began to fall, the world seeming to cry for its frustration. More beautiful a rage then any vexation her mother could possibly display.

The child closed her eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the rain seep into her soul. There was something inherently calming about the world releasing its pent up emotions. Even the world had to weep sometimes. Even the universe had to scream.

The child wished she could scream. She wished she could cry. She wished she could hit something and break something and just be for one moment in time. But the possibility of such expression seemed so far out of reach. Her mother would never allow it, not without consequences.

The rain was falling faster now, drenching the ground around her. Her cloths were soaked through, her hair swimming in mud, but the child didn’t seem to care at all. Such things seemed inconsequential to her. Her cloths would dry eventually and her hair would wash just fine. Maybe she’d catch a cold, or maybe she’d die. Either way she wouldn’t have to do her chores for awhile.

“GINEVRA WEASLEY!” a shrill screech rent through the air as a full figured women stomped between the dangerously swaying trees with a boiling wrath that would have had grown men cowering in fright. Ginevra, as she was christened, glanced towards her mother nonchalantly, momentarily pulling her gaze from the rumbling clouds overhead to gage her mother’s displeasure. Her mother looked awfully dragonesque in the ghostly lighting, lightning in the distance drawing the flaming curls writhing with wrathful rage around her mothers ire filled face into stark contrast with her luminescent pale skin. Ginevra returned her eyes to the sky and wondered idly if perhaps her mum was secretly a dragon hidden in a curvaceous human form to escape the reserves meant to encage her. That seemed plausible enough to the five year old.

“Up! Up this instant,” thundered her mother in time with the storm. “Why aren’t you in the house already? Up!”

“Later,” the girl intoned forlornly as her mother loomed over her irately. “I’m busy being despondent.”

Molly Weasley glowered down at her youngest. “Well be despondent in the house then,” she snapped at the girl, reaching down to drag her to her feet, “You’re brother wouldn’t have done this nonsense.”

Ginevra merely sighed. There it was. The ‘Brother Comparison’. At five years old, Ginevra was already resigned that she would never live up to the high pedestal her younger sibling was set upon. She would never fill the cavernous expanse left by his departure for another world.

Stealing a glance back towards the patch of grass she’d occupied mere seconds before, she wished for a moment she could have laid there undisturbed and lost within the symphony of the storm for eternity where no long dead brother’s shadow could reach its dark arms across the void to haunt her from beyond the grave.

For five years Ginevra’s twin had been deceased, having died not long after his birth, and for five years Ginevra had toiled day in and day out with the ever present, proverbial ghost hanging around every corner, around every word. She wasn’t fully sure what she’d done to incur her mother’s resentment in the wake of his departure, but she had an ever growing suspicion that it was somehow her fault he hadn’t survived, her fault that she was here and he wasn’t.

Maybe her mum just didn’t like girls. That had to be it, the child decided as she silently trudged behind her fuming mother through the swaying orchard back towards the house. Her mother had tons of boys and she seemed to like all of them just fine. Maybe if Ginevra chopped all her her hair off with the scissors in the kitchen and told everyone to call her Geoffrey or something, her mum would like her better.

Yes. That’s what she would do, Ginevra resolved tilting her head back to get a good last look at the sky. It understood her anguish better then any other being could. She was sure of it. She knew if only she could communicate with the storm, it would understand her turbulent emotional upheaval, her desire to yell at the world for its cruelty.

Yes, she determined. The moment she had a chance she would take the scissors and shear off her long tresses.

Then her mother would love her.

___

Molly never got over her 7th son of a 7th son dying at birth from chronic magical exhaustion. he would have been super powerful if he lived and potentially brought back the family fortune that was lost to time. but he didn’t live ‘cause his magical nervous system developed for more magic then a double 7 son would have and Molly’s had her knickers in a twist ever since.

instead of a double 7 son she got a triple 7 child, Molly having been the 7th child in her family in the fic, but she’s ignorant to this ‘cause she’s kinda sexist along with the rest of the magical world. Ginny’s basically the next coming of Merlin and no one realizes since she’s a girl.

i planned out more of the story then that ‘cause i love planning out stories, but i always fail at sitting down and actually writing, so let me know if you want to hear more, or just go and write your own ٩(๑☆▿☆๑)ง

if you write this fic, send me the link so I can read and review. thnx (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)