#then again there is a lot of be said regarding marriage and getting a gift that is just right | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

knchins · 2 years

Note

Hii:D idk if your still taking requests for Tokyo revengers but if you are can you do headcannons for Mikey, Draken and Sanzu for a s/o who doesn’t open up because of trust issues and not wanting to bother them with their self since they feel like a burden? My daddy issues(parents marriage) really acting up rn 🙂

tyy:D if you do take this request you don’t have to tho😅

Sorry for the delay, anon! I hope you're having a better day <3

Pairing: Mikey x Reader, Draken x Reader, Sanzu x Reader

TW: they're all adults/aged up, hurt/comfort, minor depictions of PTSD/trauma, mild angst (w/ happy ending)

Reader Type: Gender neutral Word Count: ~300 each

Mikey

The first time he saw you flinch, Mikey didn’t think much of it. The other executives in the board room were being incredibly loud, yelling at one another and bickering over petty issues. The second time you nearly cowered when Koko slammed papers down on the table, he realized that something bigger was going on. Something was bothering you and while he had a feeling it was the arguing, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure.

Getting you to open up could sometimes be impossible. It wasn’t as if Mikey was an open book himself. He kept a lot of his emotions stored away deep inside. He understood what it was like to not want people to know what was going on within your head. It was safer that way.

But you were his beloved, he couldn’t just watch you suffer without even trying. He calmly told everyone to be quiet, a tone that read authority and that no one would dare ignore. Those standing immediately sat down and everyone went silent. Mikey stood and looked at you, “come with me while they figure out how to behave like adults.”

You gave him a confused look before gathering your own papers and heading to his office where he sat down. “You don’t like when they’re loud, do you?” He asked in a soft tone that had you shifting nervously. What if this was some sort of trap? Was he going to snap at you for being so weak?

You shook your head and he gave you a small smile. He patted his lap, beckoning you to sit down on it, which you did. “You can tell me, darling. Why didn’t you tell me that their yelling bothered you?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. It wasn’t that important anyway.” You murmured, looking away from him.

“It is not a bother.” He said sternly as he wrapped his arm around you securely. “I’ll make sure they won’t do this again, okay?”

You nodded your head back, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Now let’s go get some dorayaki.” He said with a grin. “My treat.”

Draken

Draken had always been perceptive regarding other people’s emotions, especially his partner’s. When he felt you begin to pull away from him and dodge his probing questions, he knew that something was upsetting you. However, getting you to open up and tell him what was wrong was always the tricky part.

With the itching feeling that he had forgotten something and that maybe he was the one that hurt you, he began to look over the calendar in his bike shop. That’s when he noticed the tiny heart beside a date that happened to be a few days ago. His heart sunk in his chest as he realized he had forgotten your anniversary.

Immediately wanting to right his wrong, he closed up shop early for the day and got you your favorite flowers as well as a giant stuffed teddy bear. Draken was never one to care about anniversaries, but he knew that they were special to you.

He found you at your shared home on the couch curled in a blanket with your favorite warm drink in your hand, anything to try and keep the negative thoughts at bay that had been conjured by his forgetfulness.

“Hey,” He said, a small smile on his lips. He carefully set down the bouquet and bear before sitting down next to you and pulling you into his loving embrace. “Why didn’t you remind me?”

A sigh left your lips, “I didn’t want to be a burden. You’ve been so busy lately.” You murmured as you sheepishly looked at the gifts he had brought you.

“You’re never a burden,” He replied, kissing your temple. “Can I take you out tonight? I closed up the shop early so we can spend time together.”

Tears gathered in your lash line as you nodded your head at him, setting down your mug to pull the enormous bear into a squeezing hug and burying your face in his fur. Ken smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Let me clean up, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. And next time, remind me so I don’t forget like an idiot."

Sanzu

You had been feeling more and more alone lately with how busy Haru had been with work. Being number two meant he was often times away on jobs or taking care of business. It seemed he never had enough time for you and you were starting to feel more and more like a burden to him because of it.

It was like you were an afterthought and knowing that you didn’t come first had you in tears as you started to pack your bags. Luck would have it that your boyfriend would walk into his penthouse at that very moment. He called out your name, surprised to see you with a half-filled suitcase.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he felt his heart sink into his chest. Did you not love him anymore? Did you want to leave just like everyone else in his life? Was he too much to handle?

You froze, wanting to lock your emotions away tightly so he couldn’t see them. Instead, he could see the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. “You just don’t have time for me anymore.” You replied softly.

He was in front of you with two large steps, pulling you into his chest as he let out a shaky breath. “I’ll make time.” He said, “I promise, I’ll make more time. Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You said softly as you clung to him. “I know work is important.”

“It’s not as important as you.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “I’m going to order us some dinner while you unpack. I’ll ask for some time off so we can travel somewhere- anywhere- just tell me where you want to go.”

“I just want to be here with you.” You replied quietly and he hugged you even tighter.

“Then we’ll stay here.” He replied. “Together.”

Requests are open I just take forever to write them <3

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horizon-verizon · 5 months

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Alysanne set Targaryen women back. Had she been less pussy watching her misogynist husband stealing their daughter and granddaughter crown in favor of men and just selling their daughters or sending them away like some rabid dogs (justice for Viserra!)… Oh and helping her brother to steal their sister’s crown (sister who damn near raised them). She pissed me off so bad, she’s going to hell with her nasty ass husband 🙏

Even though this is true in a real sense and she hadn't been fair to her own daughters, even with Gael (when she reasonably had the more breadth to change after losing her other daughters) & even is responsible for one's death, I do also see how tirelessly she worked for women in Westeros and they do have some form of protection from noblemen because of Alicent's "Queen's Laws" (right of 1st night abolished and the Widow's Law). These are meaningful acts, even though they had less impact on Targ women directly than they did on peasant folk and other noblewomen.

Two things can be true at once; she clearly had a lot of power with Jaehaerys but what she most wanted to do--to raise the female heir apparent and have Jaehaerys' naming a girl when that opportunity arose--she found that she hit Jaehaerys' limit(s), saw how little she could do to really negate his power as the king/really understood the consequences of what being a Queen consort meant in terms of the unequal powers and subservience, and I think she was compelled more and more down the years, without really realizing it consciously, to anticipate and shape her own actions, words, and plans around what she knew and felt he'd approve or allow. Which in turn affected how she'd view her daughters and how she'd arrange their lives. We see how she's condescendingly treated by the maesters at Oldtown when she visits when she remarks that she'd like to see female maesters and how Jaehaerys never makes a comment to perhaps back her up. (Condescending because they obviously don't believe that women can be as smart as them even with one clearly being in front of their face; they probably thought of Alysanne as an exception.) ("Birth, Death , and Betrayal"):

It's quite obvious she felt more and more like she had no agency or control to do the actual things she wanted. I feel like there was most likely tiptoeing.

Yeah Jaehaerys said to Viserra that he doesn't interfere with Alysanne's decisions concerning marriages, but he says TWICE that Viserra's marriage to Theomore Manderly would be extremely beneficial to "the Iron Throne" ("Policy, Progeny, and Pain"):

...Alysanne wasn't blind or deaf to this, she herself went North to convince Alaric Stark to be more amicable towards Jaehaerys and was involved in the deal of the New Gift. Alysanne was acting for Jaehaerys' interests and then seemed to justify the wrong by making as if Viserra was disrupting the harmony of the family Alysanne is supposed to have the higher authority over (again, note that she probably felt more of her authority & agency as illusory) as both the mother and the Queen Consort. Her decision to marry Viserra off to Theomore specifically was greatly due to it being what Jaehaerys most wanted.

While she never lost courage to bring up things or confront Jaehaerys completely, she did this less and less over the years. She was always much more limited than Rhaenys, Alyssa Velaryon, & Visenya concerning politics. Perhaps she felt this and-- By how she reacts to the Braxton Beesbury duel and how she progressively gloms onto Gael--she simultaneously opted to distance herself from Jaehaerys more and more without really making big confrontations until it came to the head of Saera running away, Daella dying, Viserra dying...when things are too late.

It's a pattern for sure, but a pattern I think Alysanne didn't feel she could get out of. Ironically, it matches Rhaena's own pattern of being "too late" in regards to Alyssa Velaryon and Aerea Targaryen's deaths. Both of these women seem to burrow into their psychological "safe spaces" or coping mechanisms and eventually harm or isolate themselves from those closest to them because they are compelled to try to preserve the smallest sense of agency their privileges as dragonriding Queens in a dynasty quickly assimilated into Andal patriarchy allows.

So, kinda sure. Yes she was complicit. She made her choices, but those choices were made under social compelled personal compromises. So, not too too much on Alysanne so as to make her equal to Jaehaerys. She wasn't perfect by far and again, was responsible for her kids' deaths (Viserra and Gael and Daella) but she can't be called the same or motivated similarly as Jaehaerys was nor that her actions would have been what they were if she hadn't lived in the misogynist setting with a sexist husband she married at 13 as she did. Another perfectly flawed, misguided female character, one who really wanted to "change the world" but was confined by her gender-exclusive role. She did deserve that "Good Queen" title.

Ironically, one of the only reprieves Viserra would have had if she had married Theomore was the very widow's Law that Alysanne made sure became a thing. A small and perhaps unsatisfactory "compensation", considering. Or a lifeline? Shows us all the more the precarious state of married life for women and girls.

#alysanne targaryen #asoiaf asks to me #alysanne's characterization #fire and blood characters #viserra targaryen #jaehaerys i #jaehaerys i's characterization #character comparison #rhaena targaryen #rhaena targaryen (aemon's daughter)#rhaena targaryen (dreamfyre's rider)'s characterization

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peachymilkandcream · 10 months

Text

Break Me Slowly|Part 17|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: Back into the writing game, keeping the chapters going and coming out hopefully on schedule. If they take a bit longer then they do but we'll see what happens! Also I'm making a lot of lore about the Titans so bare that with a grain of salt :) And Erwin is still alive for all this so it'll be kind of interesting to see what his output would have been if he was still alive)) WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, vaguely implied suicide, etc.

==========================================

Evelyn ran through the woods, ignoring the pounding in her ears as her heartbeat increased with each step. Where Levi was now she wasn't sure, she wasn't sure why she cared all that much. If she had an ounce of sense she would get rid of the child and be done with Levi, hope he died in whatever fresh hell awaited him in the forest. So then why did she care now? Why deep down was she hoping he'd be okay? There was something wrong with her, he was getting to her, maybe it was something he did, something that affected her like this.

Unexpectedly, a wave of guilt washes over her. This is what she wanted, she had begged, pleaded with Eren oh so long ago to get rid of Levi for her. She remembered sneaking out when that fool of a housekeeper, meant to be her guard, wasn't looking. They had met in secret, the three of them, Floch, Eren, and her sorry self. She was so desperate then, so desperate to escape. Eren could have been just another person who was going to turn her in to Levi, but he'd believed her. They both had.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Eren had asked.

"I don't know anymore, I've tried to escape, but he always knows where I am." She had been crying, hands raking through her hair as she tried to keep herself in check.

"But you don't have the guts to kill him. To put poison in his tea and be free. You're a slave."

Those words hurt, but they were right. She was a slave, something she could fix but she could never get the courage to actually do it. Her mind was conflicted with the reality of what he'd done to her versus the fond memories of childhood friendship. No matter how bad it got, she didn't think she could just kill him. If it failed....she probably wouldn't live to try it again.

"You're right, but I just can't do it. I'm too scared Eren....what should I do?"

Eren goes silent for a moment, thinking of how he wanted to go about things. Although they were never close, she knew Eren had a strong sense of justice, he had told her that his plan was to destroy Marley in a small scale Rumbling so that their biggest threat would be gone. That's what he needed her for, the conflict with Marley had taught her a lot when it came to the Titan she was too cowardly to use. Something regarding being the direct descendant of Ymir, a branch of the original daughters, the youngest who allegedly was shunned from the line of royalty and reduce to nothing more than a peasant. From what Eren had said that's what Evelyn's titan was, the original Titan of Ymir, separate from the Founder, a gift to the youngest. Now of course records were lost and things were jumbled, for all she knew Eren could be making it up to hide his true purpose. But for her freedom she would just have to trust him.

"Regardless of your situation, Levi's a problem. He could wreck everything we're trying to do." He pauses, formulating his thoughts. "I'll adjust the original escape plan. Maybe put a bug in Erwin's ear that Levi should be the one to guard him. He might be Humanity's Strongest, but it's impossible he could kill that many Titans and Zeke without a scratch." He stares her dead in the eyes. "I'll make sure he dies. But in return, I want you to swear your undying loyalty to me and the Jeagerists. Hange, Erwin, Levi, everyone important trusts you, we need someone higher up on the inside. Can you do that?"

Relief had rushed over her, thankful that soon it would be over, she would be free. She could go back to having a life, one free from his control and oppression.

"I swear it Eren, whatever it takes, I'm with you."

==========================================

Evelyn had meant it, back then. She had meant every word of what she said, determined to laugh on Levi's grave once Zeke was finished with him. Distract him long enough to give Zeke a head start, she had done her part of the job, now in a few short minutes Levi would be dead and she would be free.

So why did it hurt so much?

Why did every bone in her body ache to turn around and tell Zeke it had all been a mistake, she didn't mean it, to carry on his escape plan and let Levi live. Hatred burned in her heart, by why was the flame so small? Maybe it was fear of raising their child without a father, needing his support to live comfortably.

And yet, money and support were the last reasoning she came up with when it came to why she didn't want him dead.

It was him, purely him, where else would she have what he gave her? Not just wealth and stability, passion. Raw, needy, passion.

It was against her will, it was nothing she wanted, but if her body didn't crave it like he said, why had she been touching herself to the thought of it at night? Mimicking his fingers and movements, but it wasn't enough. He was primal, an animal, a monster even, so why did she wish for all of this to be over so he could throw her onto their bed and bend her over to use as he pleased? It was just the hormones, it had to be. This man hurt her, took everything, and yet she hoped he lived to be thoroughly fucked.

Evelyn shook her head to clear her head, reasoning there was nothing wrong with having basic needs that despite everything, he was able to fill. Nothing more than that. Just need. She could come to grips with this, being great in bed was reason enough to hope he didn't die, how would she get off without him? This was the explanation she stuck with, pushing down the other feelings, hoping they buried themselves as she reached her horse, riding back to where she came, glancing more than she liked to admit at the scene behind her.

=============================================

Shiganshina was just how she had left it, in chaos. All of those who didn't support Zeke and Eren were being rounded up, stripped of fancy titles and positions because they had been drunken fools. She hadn't faced Erwin and Hange yet, and frankly she didn't want to. Erwin could burn in hell for all she cared, but with Hange it was different. She couldn't blame her entirely for buying into Levi's lies, she trusted him, and Evelyn wasn't known to be the most mentally well, so when he told Hange that Evelyn had suffered a break down after the battle for Wall Maria it was believable. Still her feelings were mixed.

But it had to be done, according to Floch, who had been keeping them under lock and key, they had both been told of the reality of their situation, but not about Evelyn's loyalties. This was probably for the best, she should be the one to break it to her former closest friends that she had switched sides.

=============================================

Before she saw them she heard it.

"Where's Evelyn!? Did you do the same thing to her too!? She's been through too much already Floch, Levi said she was already fragile, are you really wanting to drive her to doing something tragic!?" Hange was screeching, while Erwin was calmly silent.

Floch smirked. "Actually, she's here, we brought her in."

Hange quieted down. "Well that's better, I swear if you gave her that tainted shit- or threatened her- if she has one of those black or red armbands Floch so help me-!"

She cuts herself off as Evelyn steps into the room, staring them straight on. "Hange, Commander."

Both of their gazes went from her face, landing on the white armband tied on her bicep.

And for the first time in her life, Evelyn saw the great Commander Erwin Smith's face contort in fear and horror.

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader

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sisterspooky1013 · 11 months

Text

Gaslight, Chapter 18/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

King of Prussia, PA

He wakes to find Diana curled up beside him, her head on his chest. A surge of relief and love swell in him, and he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. She stirs, tilting her face up to his and giving him a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” she croaks, the smell of her breath familiar, if not pleasant.

“Good morning,” he says back.

She accepts his kiss and then burrows back into his chest as though she intends to go back to sleep. After a moment, her hand slides down his belly and she begins to play at the elastic on his boxers, bringing his morning erection back to life.

“I was thinking,” she says carefully, “about what you said. What you’ve been saying about your life. Our life.” He waits, and she runs her thumb back and forth just under the waist of his boxers, her fingernail lighting up a path across his skin. “I know that we never planned on having children, but I understand that it’s something you’ve had some second thoughts about.”

“Okay,” he says, just so she knows he’s listening. He’s not entirely sure where this is going. Certainly not where he thinks…right?

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she says, her palm now sliding under the fabric, her fingers combing through his pubic hair. “And I think that…I’m willing to try.”

“Try?...” he asks in a request for clarification. This is not something he should be making assumptions on.

She tilts her face back up to look at him. Her eyes scatter over his face, and she purses her lips slightly before whispering, “To have a baby.”

He’s shocked. Not for too entirely long, though, as she wraps him up tightly in her fist. He responds viscerally, his hands sliding up under her nightgown as he scrambles to get closer to her. He doesn’t ask for details, doesn’t question the why, or even the how given that he understands her current form of birth control to be semi-permanent. He accepts this gift at face value, so grateful for another chance. At their marriage, at fatherhood, at a life that feels worth waking up to each day.

Maybe this is his path to starting again.

He arrives at his office feeling a renewed sense of purpose, looking forward to his 10 am appointment with a new client.

There is so much hope, so much possibility, in a new client: the chance to change a life, to help someone find the blind corner that will lead them to better days. But it had all become so rote that the significance was lost on him, just another repeat of the same old same old. He feels as though he’s seeing the world with fresh eyes, and when he hears the doorbell that signals someone is waiting in the lobby, he springs out of his chair, excited to get started.

The man on the other side of the door looks to be in his fifties, with a crown of gray hair around his head and a generous bald spot up top. Deep lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes tell the story of a life well lived, though in joy or struggle he does not yet know.

“You must be Jack,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Jeff, come on in.”

Jack shakes his hand, a slightly perplexed look on his face.

“Have we met before?” he asks.

“I don’t believe so,” Jeff says, ushering him inside.

The two men take seats across from one another, and Jack curiously surveys the contents of the bookshelves, as new patients often do.

“So, what brings you in today, Jack?” Jeff asks, a clipboard with a client intake form affixed to it resting against his knee.

“Well,” Jack says with a resigned sigh, “a midlife crisis, I suppose.”

Jeff nods, waiting for him to continue.

“I recently got divorced, and even though we weren’t married for all that long, I guess I’m feeling…a bit lost, you might say.”

“In what respect are you feeling lost?” Jeff asks, making a quick note. “Personally, professionally?”

Jack heaves another sigh.

“Both, I’d say.”

“Is there any background information you think might be helpful for me, perhaps regarding your marriage? You don’t need to share your life story, unless that feels relevant, but a bit of a foundation would be helpful,” Jeff prompts him.

“Well, I used to work in law enforcement until a couple years ago. I had a case that really put me through the ringer, shook up the whole town. It was the final straw, I suppose, because I packed up and moved to Costa Rica about six months later. Quit my job, sold my house, the whole shebang.”

Jeff nods along, bouncing a pen between his thumb and forefinger.

“That’s where I met my wife, Yvette. It was a whirlwind romance, movie stuff.” Jack pauses, a soft, reminiscent look in his eye. His expression slowly falls, memories crossing over his face like a mask. “But, uh, it didn’t work out. I just moved back to the States a month ago and I’m trying to pick up the pieces. But I guess I feel like my life is over, in a way. I’m too old for fresh starts.”

“What makes you feel that you’re too old? What did you hope or expect your life to look like at this point?” Jeff asks.

Jack considers him for a moment.

“Sorry for taking us off topic, Jeff, but are you sure we’ve never met?” he asks.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jeff answers.

“You’re not from coastal Maine, are ya?” Jack clarifies.

“No, I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard and I’ve lived in a handful of cities in the New England area, but never Maine,” he answers. “I want to be mindful of the time, Jack, so perhaps we can get back on topic.”

“Of course, I apologize,” Jack says with a wave of his hand. “I suppose I always saw myself married and settled by now. Leaving Ammas Beach was a big life change for me, and I thought Costa Rica was it. I thought that’s where I’d spend the rest of my life. But after I split from Yvette, it was just too hard to stick around.”

“And what is it that makes marriage and ‘settling down’ feel unattainable to you now?”

“You know what, I know where I know you from,” Jack says, pointing at him. “You look just exactly like this man from the FBI I met right before I left Ammas Beach.”

“The FBI?” Jeff asks, furrowing his eyebrows. “I actually did work for the FBI, very briefly. But that was a very long time ago, in the 80’s.”

“No,” Jack says, shaking his head. “This was in ‘98. That case I told you about, the one that shook up the town? There was this FBI agent named Dana Scully that helped me out with the investigation. I met up with her and her partner shortly before leaving for Costa Rica, and he was the spittin’ image of you. His last name was Mulder, and that’s what she called him. I never did catch his first name.”

Jeff stares at him, the rush of the air conditioning roaring in his ears. Mulder. That name again. And Dana, like the woman at the coffee shop. What are the odds?

“The female agent, Dana,” he says, clearing his throat. “What did she look like?”

“Real pretty,” Jack says emphatically. “Petite, short red hair, blue eyes. She was a real pistol. She wanted to give me some wacky UFO poster, so we met up for coffee down in DC where they worked, and she brought her partner along. I swear, you could be his twin.”

Jeff gathers additional details, which Jack seems happy to supply. The agents worked out of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Dana had been traveling through Maine on vacation when she and Jack crossed paths. She had called her partner, Mulder, several times each day while they investigated a strange and unexplainable case. Something about a living doll that Jeff doesn’t bother digging into. Then their time is up, and he has to prepare for his next client.

“I’m sorry we didn’t take full advantage of our session today, Jack. I won’t be billing your insurance for it,” he says contritely as they part ways at his office door.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you think you know the guy then? This Mulder?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Jeff answers honestly. His mind is a jumble of disparate facts that he has absolutely no idea how to make sense of.

They make another appointment for the following week, and the day marches forward even as his mind remains stuck in one place.

“This is going to sound bizarre,” Jeff says, running the pad of his middle finger around the lip of his beer bottle.

“You have my attention,” Frank says, setting his cards on the table face down.

“So the other day I was at a coffee shop, and this woman approached me,” he begins.

“Eh! Eh! Eh! Eh!” Simon screeches, mimicking an alarm. “Danger, Jeff Spender.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and continues.

“She thought she knew me, and she called me ‘Mulder’. She seemed really upset when I didn’t recognize her. So that was a little odd, but then today, I had a new patient appointment and he told me that I reminded him of a man he met a couple years ago, also named ‘Mulder’.”

Mike gives him a doubtful look.

“Who the fuck is Mulder?” he asks.

“I have no idea,” Jeff says. “I’ve never heard the name before. But here’s where it gets freaky: the new client told me that this ‘Mulder’ he met worked with a woman named Dana, which was the name of the woman who approached me at the coffee shop.”

Simon starts humming the tune to The Twilight Zone.

“There’s more,” Jeff says, and the three other men lean in, waiting. “The client said that the woman, Dana, and the man, Mulder, worked for the FBI.”

“What the fuck, man,” Mike says, clearly disturbed. “You got a doppelganger out there living an alternate life?”

“Hold on, let’s access the power of the World Wide Web,” Frank says, standing.

They follow him to a desktop computer, then wait several minutes while he boots it up and connects to the internet. He navigates to Yahoo and readies his cursor in the search bar.

“How do you spell Mulder?” he asks, and the men all look at each other.

They try several variations, none of them producing helpful results. Mulder FBI. Mulder Washington DC. Moulder, Molder, Mulder. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

“Try searching ‘Dana Scully’,” Jeff suggests.

Frank enters ‘Dana Skully’ and hits enter. There are a handful of white page listings, but not much else.

“Try it with a ‘c’ instead of a ‘k’,” Simon says.

More white page listings, plus a scanned copy of the commencement program for the 1990 graduating class of Stanford University.

“Try that,” Jeff says, pointing to the screen.

It’s a multi page document containing lists of names as well as degrees conferred, some accompanied by bios. Frank scrolls slowly as they all scan over the small, grainy print on the image, working through the schools of Education, Humanities, and Law. When they come to the final pages that cover the School of Medicine, Jeff sees a familiar image and clamps his hand down on Frank’s shoulder.

Dana Scully - Doctor of Medicine - Annapolis, MD

Beside her name is a black and white photograph, though he doesn’t need to see her red hair and blue eyes to recognize her. It’s her, the woman from the coffee shop. There isn’t a doubt in his mind.

They try a handful of other searches. Dana Scully, MD. Dana Scully, FBI. Dana Scully, Ellicott City. Nothing comes up.

“Do you know anything else about her?” Frank asks.

“No,” Jeff huffs, running his hand through his hair. “Just her first name, that she lives in Ellicott City, and that she has a husband. That’s it.”

“Well, and that two years ago she worked at the FBI with your long lost twin,” Mike jokes.

Jeff paces the room, frustration coming off him in waves.

“What do you think it means?” Simon asks warily.

“I don’t know!” Jeff shouts, then pauses to compose himself. “I don’t know what it means, but it obviously means something.”

He stalks out of the room, grabbing his wallet, keys, and cell phone off the dining room table. His friends follow behind, watching him with some concern.

“You leaving?” Frank asks, though it’s obvious that he is.

“I need to call my mom,” he says, then pulls the door closed behind him.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles

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rottentiger-art · 1 year

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I hope you don’t mind me, but I’m inspired to organize the whole anon asks regarding PCA into one and adding some stuff. Here’s basically my take of what I think happened:

Pacific Coast Academy was actually accredited by the Department of Education of California. Originally, it was an all-boy’s school until that changed when girls where allowed. Thus, becoming a coed boarding school. The last dean, Charles Rivers, goes through a hard time in his personal life and borrows some money from the school, swearing to himself that he’ll pay it back. Then, him borrowing money repeats again and again.

The school board starts noticing inconstancies in the school finances and an investigation is done, which reveals that the school is basically near bankruptcy. The media somehow catches wind of it and has a field day, twisting things for their own purposes. There’s uproar and backlash from the public. Then, the rumors start floating around that PCA is a diploma mill. There are even pictures from events that happened at PCA that are taken out of context to explain why PCA is a scam. Some parents who have their children in the school get worried about this and make the decision to start pulling their children from the school.

The media, the public backlash and parents pulling their children from PCA leads to the downfall of the school. It has no choice but to close its doors. 15 years later, everyone still believes that PCA was a diploma mill and let teenagers loose in the campus. None of the students do anything to dismiss the rumors, because no one believes them when they tell the truth.

Fast forward a little to after Logan and Quinn’s marriage. Logan buys the PCA campus out of impulse, then gives it to Quinn as a wedding gift. Quinn just sighs at her husband, asking what was his intention in buying it and he’s like, we rebuild PCA back to its former glory…? Quinn doesn’t think it’s a bad idea, so she runs with it and pulls a few strings here and there from people she knows in the science field, talking about how she’d like a STEM curriculum for her new school. People are on board with her idea, because, duh, Dr. Quinn Pensky is like a big deal and she’s legit so, of course, the new PCA campus won’t go to hell like the last one.

Long story short, Quinn works from the ground up to make sure that PCA is up to standards, hiring qualified people, making sure to do background checks, etcetera. When everything looks good, Quinn steps back and lets the people she hired take over, only making sure that they come to her for funding and such. Logan gets involved and talks the staff into setting up a scholarship for talented students who can’t afford PCA and proposes that it’d be called the Pensky Scholarship.

And when it’s time to inaugurate the new and improve PCA campus, Logan and Quinn are there to cut the ribbon. Both are known as the patrons of the PCA campus.

If one Stacy Del Figalo causes a storm over her investigation over what truly happened on the old PCA campus, then that’s another story. The End.

This was so good, so sorry it took me a while to answer it. But I loved it. You did a great job at putting it all together and honestly, I'd 100% read a fic like that.

Some things I'd like to add to this AU. Mostly headcanons.

I really want their friends to get involved on this AU too, damn, even Zoey. Like I said, I think Chase being a teacher shouldn't go to waste, I'd like to see him teaching at PCA.

I definitely need Lola to appear, in whatever way she could help. I doubt she would take on a teaching role, but I'd like for her to be an inversionist (bc I refuse to believe she's not a famous and successful actress now). Maybe even make special appearances at the school, support and help build the Drama Class (idk the name). I bet the theater kids would freak out about her.

Same thing for Michael, I'd like for him to be an investor and be involved in the music department. As a producer he must know a lot of artist and the kind. Maybe he recommends a some people to take on the teaching role there (a failed artist that desperately needed a job could be a fun character lol)

I really don't think Zoey would leave her job as a producer, but let's pretend: I think Zoey would work as an Art Teacher, since that was more her thing than being a producer. And/or a temporary dorm advisor, until the school is fully staffed (I'd be funny to see her take on the role Coco had, specially considering she kinda acted like her on the movie)

Lola and Michael could do the same too, take temporary roles, if their schedule lets them.

idk what Stacey and Mark would be doing tbh, I'll leave that to anyone else who wants to add lol

probably still chasing the Malibu murderer.

now, about Quogan:

I really want a pregnancy plot to emerge at some point during this AU, and it motivates them to create the school they want their future children to go one day.

So maybe they were kinda like "what do we do with this place now?" but when they found out they're pregnant they got motivated af and emotional about it.

Obviously, Logan wouldn't let Quinn overwork herself and Quinn would keep Logan at bay so he didn't go overboard like he did with the wedding. Tho I assume by then he had learned his lesson, I'm gonna give him credit.

I like to think being able to work together, having a project of their own, specially while expecting, brought them closer (if that's possible). Like all the process was stressful at times and there probably were some disagreement/fights, but overall, it was an enjoyable time, precious memories to recall later one.

I also just love the idea of Quogan working as a team.

I did have the hc that Logan restored and engraved their bench, I'd like to see this on this AU too, I always loved engraved and dedicated benches (@honeyflower15 wrote something similar on their story "Quogan at PCA", fully recommend that fic, it's my s5 now)

PCA now would also be adapted to modern times, equipped with TEKMATE technology, I'm sure.

Maybe they both go a little over the top there, adding stuff they wished the school had when they were younger and maybe exaggerating the vision :p

Imagine, they keep a journal together, documenting their journey of building and transforming PCA. They write down their memories, challenges, and triumphs, creating a beautiful story that they can share with their future children with photos and all *sobs*

I'd like to see Lyric get involved too! omg I can see her invite herself on the project, maybe trying to convince Quinn and Logan to hire her as a musical teacher/art teacher or smth and throw a fit those jobs are occupied and Logan finding something else for her to do XD

For the inauguration day, Logan and Quinn cut the ribbon together, it'd be so cute, Quinn holding the scissors and him behind her, placing his hands over hers, ahhhh

I imagine their speeches are like, heartfelt, emotional, they would talk about their own experience at PCA (in general) and how they hope this new generation [camera dramatically pans out to their baby/toddler (who I assume it's already born bc school building and organizing takes a loooot of time) in the arms of their aunty Lyric] has the same experiences as they did. And obviously promises of not letting PCA fall again like it did and keep everything in check.

the order of the speeches go like this on my head: first Zoey (bc, of course), Chase, Michael, Lola, Logan and then Quinn. Or maybe Logan and Quinn gave the speech together.

There would probably be stands to showcast the different subjects that would be teached at PCA, for the science, chemistry, engendering and all that stands I think Quinn would had given the opportunity to some interns of her to organize those (she paid them, of course)

Quinn's success (as well as Michael, Lola, Zoey and Logan's) would definitely drive parents to trust this new PCA, wanting their children to reach that level one day. So, it'd give them good publicity or smth.

I feel like Zoey would offer to give the Facility Tour, idk why.

Lola and Michael would handle the performances and demonstrations. I assume because of their fame, there were a lot of willing participants and aspiring students that took the chance to perform under their guidance.

Quinn and Chase would deal with the Parent and Students Orientation. Quinn would deal mostly with the Q&As, since she's more informed about the School's insight, administration, etc. Chase would offer his insight as one of the Teachers and all that, telling them of his teaching methods and stuffs.

Logan would have organized the Celebratory Gathering (yes, I had to look up what a school inauguration day looks like shhh)

I promise, he learned his lesson, not over the top celebration this time. But he definitely left them impressed.

I imagine a cute moment at the end, where when the day is done and the guest and parents have left already (I'm assuming the Inauguration Day is a day before the first day of School, so the new students must be settling in their dorms and going to bed by then and classes would start the next day, idk), and Logan and Quinn are sitting on their bench, with their kid in arms, sleeping, just quietly enjoying the moment, satisfied with how they day turned out like and just so happy *sobs, an exaggerated amount*

Like, such a cute picture, they're sitting on the same bech where they shared their first kiss, on the place they met, now with a kid of their own, happily married and having rebuild their school, allowing other children to have what they did *sobbing but like so fucking much omg*

I suppose Zoey and Chase would be having a little moment somewhere too, but wgaf about them.

and an extra headcanon: their bench becomes like a urban legend now, some school lore idk, where there's the rumor that If you kiss on that bench, a timeless bond will be sealed, and your love will endure for eternity. Or some corny shit like that, idk. It has to be a first kiss tho.

Okay, that's all I got for now. Still don't know who they'd hire as dean, but definitely someone trustworthy, not just anyone, like you said, Quinn would have ran a bg check. There's much more to add and I invite anyone to keep contributing to this lovely AU.

And thank you again, anon. I loved what you did!

#ask box #anon #zoey 102 #quogan #zoey 101 #logan reese #quinn pensky #quinn x logan #lola martinez #michael barret #zoey brooks #chase matthew #Rebuilding PCA au #quogan baby

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k-dokja · 2 years

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Relationship & Courting | Questions | It's me, the provider of my own content again. Again, this is written with the knowledge of Heavensward Alphinaud. I'll change should he change in the future, but I don't think that's the case at the moment.

♥ Do they seek out love or let it find the? Are they even interested in romance?

Let it find him. While the young Alphinaud has gone out to achieve a number of accomplishments to impress girls, he's nowhere near desperate for affection. A lot of his flirtation is an extension of his polite and charming personality, not meaningful attraction.

After spending so many of his younger years indulging in frivolities, he's now content to wait for the moment love comes to him. He has no opposition to it, in fact, he will pursue it if he ought to chance upon the person of his dream.

His own parents nurture a harmonious and loving marriage despite their difference, it is what Alphinaud also wants for himself.

♥ When they have a crush on someone, how do they let them know?

Depending on where he's at in his life. If he's caught up in the Scions business, helping the Warrior of Light save the world, then he has every reservation to be more subtle about it.

He often spends a lot of his downtime around his beloved, even if he has to go out of his way to be by their side. Alphinaud prides himself on his own intellect, but their opinion is always one he holds in high regard. He likes to relay the events of his days to them and ask them for their opinions, even if they don't match his own.

Then there comes the gifts, little trinkets that he thinks they would fancy. A ribbon, a bracelet, or even his own drawing of them. Whatever would bring a smile to their face and make them look at him with affection.

He's also less reserved about his touches. Nothing beyond what decorum dictates, but he stays close to them. His gentlemanly behaviour cranks to the max specifically for them. There are times when he touches their shoulder or elbow, and he smiles far more often at them.

♥ Do they spend a lot of time in the courting stage or attempt to get to first base as fast as possible?

And of course, it's courting for Alphinaud. He's too well-mannered for otherwise. There'd be a lot of walks, tea times together, and meaningful glances from across the room. Even if he has thought of their wedding long beforehand, he takes it slow and measured.

Like my friend said, always a planner, that one. It'd be a while before he puts his affection into words, but his affection has been crystal clear long before then. After all, when he cradles their face and looks upon them with such affection, who can deny the fact that Alphinaud Leveilleur is hopelessly, unmistakably in love?

♥ Do they make an effort to find someone with similar views, be they political or moral?

Seeing that his parents have minimal issues despite their opposing views in politics, Alphinaud can see that he's able to enter a marriage with such compromise, even if it's not preferred. Albeit should be one where they don't actively conflict with each other, since it'd be stressful for the household in the long run.

The moral is another matter, however. He cannot be with anyone who wishes malicious harm to others. It's simply the opposition to his entire being and the people he loves. In fact, those with a big heart who cares for others around them are indefinitely more attractive in his eyes.

He wants a partner in a relationship, who can challenge his views and support him when necessary, not constant arguments over matters that crack the foundation of their relationship.

♥ Do they seek to find a partner purely to further the bloodline and name, is it for true love, or is it for pleasure alone?

He'd be lying if he says he doesn't feel the pressure to further the Leveilleur bloodline. However, he'd not marry simply for that, as his own parents and even his grandparents before them have found a love of their own.

Alphinaud is a romantic at heart, even if he tries to be otherwise. He can marry for pragmatic purposes, but his idealism always pushes him to get both that and love.

♥ Do they sleep in the same bed/room as much as they can or do they sleep separately?

Same bedroom. It's the best way to his day, wrapped up under the blanket with his beloved as he falls asleep. He often has to travel for the Scions business, which makes him crave their presence during long trips. While it is a downside to his lifestyle, it also makes him appreciate the time he has with them much more.

♥ Do they make it a point to eat at least one meal a day together with their partner, or do they do as they please?

Absolutely. If he doesn't have to be away, he wants to be close if possible. He likes to hear them talk about their days and distract him from the constant worrying about the Scions. Not simply the meals, he also likes to spend time sitting with them by the fire afterwards, enjoying each other's company no matter what they're doing.

#alphinaud leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur x reader #alphinaud x reader #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #headcanons

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thephantomcasebook · 2 years

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i feel so lucky that tonight i discovered your tumblr page by chance as i myself huge huge huge fan of asoiaf and fire&blood fan and they are powerful distraction from my upsetting daily routine i need to get through. Therefore, i spend everyday daydreaming thinking brainstorming lots of things

my recent question mark in my head is about Jahaera and aegon the third situation. So in the book it says, jahaera and aegon were very very quiet very reserved and didnt spend any time together since their 2 or 3 year long childmarriage they both endured. And i am also thinking even children werent initiative, but they were also kept apart from each other . As regents and other powerful adults wanted to have more power and bigger chance to getting closer to the crown through marriage. And if jahaera or aegon needs to be chosen to get rid of , that would be jahaera in their eyes as jahaera being declared the heir and sitting on the crown could be a potential for other female heirs being set aside question their rights. Therefore i feel jahaera was chosen for to be killed instead of aegon , just because of the gender not because of whether this is green or black case.

Anyway i should just get to my question , in the book cannon, after jahaera’s suicide(murder), aegon the third reportedly give jahaera’s own doll to myrielle peake(hand of the king’s daughter)

this is sooo weird to me, and i genuinely dont think george martin just put it out that detail for no reason. Apparently in the book myrille played with the doll as if it was a real one so thats a obvious hint to how myrielle and her father the hand of the king wants myrille as queen very much. But what i can not understand is why the hell aegon had jahaera’s doll and gave it to myrille, like why did it have to be jahaera’s own doll

i feel you are so far the best person i ever read about understanding george martin and understanding uncovering things

do you have any insight into this detail in the fire blood book? Why would aegon give jahaera’s doll to myrielle when he could just gift brand new doll to myrielle? Its not like aegon the third would be short of money to buy a simple 1 doll.

and aegon the third and jahaera were said several tomes in the book how they had no contact no closeness nothing between them, they only sat quietly next to each other in formal royal events which was again so rare.

i wonder maybe that was not the case? Maybe they just started to be friends and hand of the king got scared and thats why he insteaf of murdering jahaera later he did it before aegon the third would get attached to her better?

And also what do u think of jahaera and aegon the third pairing in general? I love daenaera so much and i dont think daenaera made aegon feel anything negative but i feel jahaera and aegon could had reached deeper feelings whereas i felt daenara was superficial beautiful positive distraction

Hey, sorry I'm answering so late ... I usually take off from the computer on Friday-Saturday and then come back on Sunday Night - though I'm writing this at 4:30AM on a Monday Morning.

And, I feel you, times are pretty lean around here too on a personal level and as a writer I tend to retreat to fictional worlds - my own or others - to get through the day. Which is why I get sucked into Downton Abbey and HOTD. So, I got you ... you're among friends on that regard.

I'm not sure I've got an inside track to GRRM's thinking, though we tend to be kindered spirits in terms of writing tact and methods. I've just been a fan for a good thirteen years and used to get into the weeds with fan theories and the like.

I'll be honest with you, Aegon III giving away Jaehaera's doll like that really, really - REALLY - bothered me. It's a personal tick of mine, probably because I've always been a pretty poor guy and didn't have a lot of toys - I've learned to be a book and imagination kinda person. So, I get super sentimental about toys - especially dolls. And it twisted me up inside when I read that.

I would be wary of believing "Fire & Blood" because it isn't a reliable source of the actual events - it is written and sourced by many unreliable narrators with their own agendas. So, the idea that Jaehaera and Aegon III had no contact or closeness can't really be taken as fact when, most likely, the conspirators who murdered Jaehaera fucked with the records.

To be honest with you, Jaehaera and her death is another casualty of "Oh shit, this is gonna be part of a TV Show ... let me change this." Because, when I first read "A Song of Ice and FIre" and "Dunk and Egg" Aegon and Jaehaera where the parents of Daeron, Baelor, Daena, and the others. Daeron "The Young Dragon" was literally named after Daeron "The Daring" because he was the uncle of Jaehaera and a hero to the common people of Westeros. It made sense.

Now, I've come back to the fandom a few years to see that GRRM has got a Velaryon hard-on and that he killed off Jaehaera and changed it so that Aegon III ended up marrying his niece or some shit. So now, naming their eldest kid Daeron makes absolutely no sense other than perhaps Aegon III admired Daeron a lot as a kid, despite the fact that Daeron was the biggest reason for Rhaenyra's death.

I'm sad to say that the doll part is something new to me that I, myself, have only read recently and I cannot grasp for the life of me the point of that little detail, beyond, Aegon III was just trying to be nice. Though, I would subscribe to your theory that Aegon and Jaehaera were probably closer than the book lets on, close enough that he would keep her favorite dolly when she was gone and think it important.

I don't know, man ... that whole retcon to the end of the war bothers me a lot. There isn't a point to it other than GRRM trying to shoehorn in the Velaryons wherever he can to make them more important so that people will care about them in the upcoming show.

Also, I still have my first edition " A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" Illustrated hardcover version that still has Jaehaera Targaryen as Daemon Blackfyre's grandmother and Aegon II and Helaena marked as his Great-Grandparents. And the post script that says that Aegon V (Egg) married his older sister, not a Blackwood.

#House of the Dragon #Aegon III Targaryen #jaehaera targaryen

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fumikomiyasaki · 2 years

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The Village of Lonfyn

I wanted to make a whole post dedicated just to Fabio and his village as well as some details to his connections... these are all inspired by the Viera and the Feol Viera just to be clear... I just adapt it for Fabios inspo

Species in general and Village stuff:

-Members of the village usually should stay in it forever, everyone that leaves the Village is sealed to not come back there which is also why with all this Isolation they don’t know much about the outside world aside what the forrest tells them

-Most of them have white hair to grey, many who leave the village color them

-However there is is also the banished ones of this species who didn’t leave the village on their own but disrupted harmony and traditions

-Fabio back in the Village had many siblings however his little sister May (That I based of Mjrn btw) Eventually after her left the Village of his own choice went a bit desperate cause Fabio was the only one she relied on... however she still wanted to keep her gift of talking with the Forrest and so... she searched for means to get out of the village without breaking the villages rules and traditions

-She found rumors about how to make a potion for a portal however being caught by the guardians of the village to have slayn a holy animal for the village, she was marked with a curse symbolized by a burn mark of a flower on her shoulder and became a Banished one

-Banished ones slowly loose the grey of their hair and turn blond... usually their ears also shrink after a while and even their growth is halted, looking young for a long time, they are send out of the village and the ones that did made themselves a life in the Volcano of Forras, planning to get Revenge on the village

-Their plan is the break the seal and make the village connected back with the normal world, so they can’t hide anymore

-This means May could technically meet Fabio again but if she did, I can see him be very dissapointed in his sister cause he hoped she would stay in the village

_____________________________________________________

Other Facts;

-Most of this village is populated by Males but that is also why high respect is regarded over every Female member... Women are mainly highly regarded in the village and respected

-Giving someone a flower in this Village is like a marriage proposal, they don’t have it as tradition to give them normally its something special to them

-If you make someone a weapon that means you are important to him in a friendship or a love way,

-heights range from 210 cm to 340 cm so that is also why Fabio is so big and even children are pretty high in his race, the banished ones stop growing or even shrink to be 150 - 200 cm,

-They can talk to plants and feel what they feel, however this connection vanishes after leaving the village.

-His species said to life around 150 years

-children learn early how to use a bow

-usually there is 3 to for 4 duties you can have in the Village: Guardian, Healer, Crafter and Resourcer

-Their traditional Dancing of this village is lots of short hops and uses feet a lot

-They have an odd chicken species they raise.

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ocs #twstoc #twstocs #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland ocs #twisted wonderland original character #fabio Vierunar #disney twst

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ikpopwriting · 2 years

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TL;DR: I’m sending a gift to a friend (who has been repeatedly hit with darkness) that she loved and jokingly asked for in a post because she didn’t think anyone would actually buy it, and I’m doing it anonymously.

Ok so I am terrible at keeping certain secrets to myself. Tell me your deepest, darkest, shameful secret and I’ll die with it, but tell me about a gift or surprise you’re doing and it eats at me with excitement. I have to tell someone, usually my mom (which should be a given because she’s my best friend).

I’m even worse when it’s me doing the surprise or giving the gift. I just get so excited about how the person will react to it (I put a lot of thought, significance, and love into the gifts/cards/services I give). I have to tell someone (again, usually my mom. It makes it 1,000x harder when the thing is for her and I have to tell someone else or I’ll explode).

I have decided not to tell anyone who personally knows me in my life that I’ve done my latest secret gift. BUT, I’m dying to tell someone. No one on here knows me outside of Tumblr, and few people in my life even know I write fanfiction (let alone what fandom they belong to or that it’s Tumblr). A couple know I’m on Tumblr, but haven’t the slightest idea I actually post anything.

So, here’s my latest random act of…love? Kindness? Honestly giving gifts is my output love language.

A friend I met a few years ago when she started working at the bakery with me posted early last month (December) about a piece of clothing she was in love with and jokingly said “someone please buy this for me 😭😭🤣”. I tracked it down to a shopping website, and took a screenshot of the price and item name and everything for later, because after 2 years of no income I am officially broke. Well, I got a little spending money for Christmas. I bought a couple small things on New Year’s Day I need electronic-accessory wise. Then I was scrolling through my pictures for a particular one and found the screenshot of the top—and smiled.

Now, something you should know about this girl (10 years or more older than me), is that when we met she was in an abusive marriage. It had progressed past manipulation and emotional/mental abuse to physical about two years before I met her. She also has 2 sons from a previous marriage (also not a good one) who love their mother very much, and had reached that point that they were starting to interfere a little with the abuse. One of the first times she opened up to me in regards to this was when she had started to fear that her husband would start hurting her boys, but felt she was stuck. She didn’t make enough, she felt, to support them well enough on her own.

Over the course of the next 6 months, I repeatedly told her that she deserved better, that both she and her boys were in a toxic, unsafe environment. I prayed for and with her, and made sure to always be encouraging and show her that she was worth more than he led her to believe; that she had other people in her corner who were ready and willing to help her and her boys. I had a card in my wallet from way before at school for an organization that helped women in those situations, and had always wondered why I kept it. I gave it to her, which I feel was the reason I had it. She contacted them. She filed for divorce. They got her a divorce attorney. She and her boys moved in with her parents, and me and 4 others I rounded up helped her go get HER stuff from her now-ex’s place while he was under court order not to be there. He had cameras that he let slip he watched, and which rooms they were in, and as the others loaded the last thing into the truck, I said “hey ___, you’ve lost probably the best you’ve ever had, and probably will ever. Oh, and fuck you” as I flipped the room off (never knew exactly where the cams were, just that they were there). The women’s advocacy group helped set her up in an apartment complex that worked with them at a low rate (a nice apartment with more space than she had furniture to fill). They even paid for her rent and utilities while she was in divorce court. We helped her move her stuff again, and even gathered things from within our family and friend circle that was in good shape but not used/wanted anymore. She cried each time, and just kept thanking us and was worried she couldn’t repay us. I finally told her “___, you’re not going to repay us; we don’t want you to. This is what being a Christian, a child of God, is about. If anything, we want you to pay it forward one day, when you come across someone in need.”

The breaking point, when she said realized they were out of the dark, was that Christmas, when my family forwent buying things we didn’t need and instead bought her boys both wants and needs (at first she didn’t know why I was asking so much about her kids, then figured it out and cried). And for her, too. I watched this woman, who had been in 2 bad marriages and just wanted her boys taken care of, go from being timid and unsure to confident, happy, positive, and strong. She is very much the “fuck around and find out” type now that she’s herself again. She will one day be a bridesmaid at my wedding, she’s such an important part of my life now. She’s fallen on hard times again, and is fighting for custody of her kids (a family member of their father’s has legal custody and is doing a shit job and lying through their teeth in court), but she has an amazing guy and his son to keep her grounded. She says I seem to always pop up with cards or gifts or just kind words and encouragement when she needs it most. She doesn’t realize how much she helps me in turn, that she’s helped me in the struggles with my own faith the last 2 years of chronic long-COVID illness.

She’s a forever friend.

So, as I looked at the screenshot of that top she really wanted last night, I decided I was going to give a little more sunshine into her life to start the year on the positive. I ordered it, set the address to hers and put her name on it, and will be anxiously tracking it and waiting to see if she posts about it and/or figures out it was me (haven’t decided if I’ll admit it was me if she strongly suspects or not).

Everyone deserves little things to show that someone cares, that they’re not alone in the dark this world brings. That besides (or in spite of) people expected to care (who may or may not), there are people who have chosen to.

#jess talks #jess rambles #anonymous fairy #personal

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loosesodamarble · 2 years

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For That Special Day

Summary: After the union between herself and Fuegoleon, Solara assists Josele in preparing for her own happily ever after, as it were. A collaboration between myself and Laura (@thoughtfullyrainynightmare).

Genre: general

Word count: ~4300

..........

If there was one word Solara could've used to describe Josele it would've been "earnest." She was a woman once dead to the world in all but body now lived again, not with great energy but with a deep appreciation for all that was around her. Solara saw it in the way Josele would drink her tea at a slow, thoughtful pace. In the way she paused to watch a simple act such as a florist tending to bouquets in a window. How she smiled with tears in her eyes for the joys of another person.

Their initial introduction was poor, yes, but Solara could confidently say that she was glad to have become acquainted with and befriended Josele.

In that moment, Solara's hand moved up and touched the pendant that had been gifted to her from Josele. A gift given out of love to celebrate love. Truly something meaningful for both giver and receiver.

"Solara, the necklace looks positively lovely on you, no need to be self-conscious," Josele's teasing voice pulled Solara from her thoughts.

The two women walked together through a lively, though thankfully not crowded, marketplace. They were without their squad robes, as they walked not as knights on patrol but as friends on an outing.

A giggle made it past Solara's lips. "Oh, I wasn't worrying. But I probably don't need to tell you that."

"True. A moment of appreciation?" Josele guessed, to which Solara nodded. "You're welcome." The warm smile she gave Solara softened as she turned her head to look ahead. However, there was something else to Josele, in the way her eyes so quickly flicked away from Solara, from the wedding gift.

Perhaps it was Josele's affinity which made her easy to read or perhaps Solara had become all too familiar with tension, with the sense that there were words that wanted to be said but did not come out easily. Solara reached out a hand and touched Josele's shoulder.

"If there's something you wish to discuss, Joey, I'm all ears," Solara said with gentle reassurance. "Is there?"

Josele looked at Solara. She smiled, though there was a heaviness to the gesture.

"Nacht and I, we finally decided to marry." A sigh, one that was light and dreamy, left Josele though her smile remained somewhat sad.

"Well that's certainly something of note," Solara remarked with a nod. "But there's more?"

"Much more." Josele's hand reached for her own necklace, or rather the rings. "See, the trouble is that... Right now we've decided to make our union a small affair."

"Ah, I presume just yourselves and your squad. Don't worry. I'm not offended for not being invited. Being told is sufficient to me."

At that, Josele shook her head, perplexing Solara.

"We're not doing a ceremony at all. We don't want to make a big deal out of our union."

Solara couldn't help but laugh, though she kept it minimal. "Sounds difficult. It's marriage after all."

"I know, I know." Josele flushed and shook her head. "It doesn't make much sense but that's how we feel. But it's my idea to forgo a ceremony entirely. Even if it's just the Black Bulls, I don't want one. Because it reminds me of..." She gripped the rings more tightly. "With Morgen, there was going to be a ceremony, a big one because of how well-connected he was. You should've seen how nervous I was. Me, some common woman, marrying the most admired man in the noble realm. But..." Josele's expression brightened with such warmth that Solara felt it in her own heart. "Morgen had this way of making me forget when people were watching us. And so I felt it would be okay since he would be waiting for me at the end of the aisle."

Solara remained silent for a moment. She had an idea of how Josele must've felt back then. Solara marrying Fuegoleon, one of the kingdom's royals, meant having many eyes on her. And it did shake her a bit. But the joy of marrying her dear Fue outweighed the anxiety. So Morgen had that effect for Josele.

"But it's different with Lord Faust?" Solara asked softly.

"It's not a problem with him, it's just..."

"I understand. And I'm sure Lord Faust feels the same."

Josele nodded. But still there was something so.... well not quite... wrong in it. Which, however, didn't mean that it didn't feel right either.

"He does..." she tried to smile, still fumbling with the rings.

"But?" Solara asked, searching for Josele's gaze with faint glances, almost as if to ask if she wanted to tell.

"But," Josele begun, not averting the gaze per se, but rather letting it travel freely. "Marriage tends to be something that is celebrated with one's friends and loved ones. Both of the couples friends and loved ones."

There was a brief pause, during which they both thought about it. Though within Josele there was a tug of two emotions, rather than a flow of thoughts.

"Well," Solara begun, thinking out loud more than anything. "I think that... ultimately marriage is between the people in the marriage itself. And... it's... I think it's a union, that speaks about the emotions of those two people, as long as it's a marriage out of love, but that's another topic entirely."

Josele nodded. Because there was more to the subject of what marriage means to people, but this wasn't one of those conversations.

"I was... Well. I can't say that I wasn't a little bit upset when my sister decided to marry in secret. If one can call it as that, because she did tell us. But they didn't have a reception. A proper wedding. Similarly, they just signed the papers. Perhaps celebrated it amongst themselves, but that's...." She paused for a while, choosing her words, because she was happy for Selena. "Their marriage isn't about me."

Josele blinked. Her face reflected surprise for a moment before giving way to relief.

"Goodness." Josele brought her hand to her mouth as she laughed. "Why didn't I see it sooner?" Then, she smiled to Solara. "Thank you. I think I've got my thoughts in order at last."

Solara twirled her hand and bowed her head in a playful gesture. "Happy to be of service."

Josele laughed a little harder. "Well, I still need your service actually."

"Hm?" Solara raised a brow. "Reconsidering the private affair and need my expertise on wedding planning?"

"No no!" Josele, suddenly flushed pink, stepped back and waved her hands in the air. “Nothing like that!”

The people in the street with the women sent passing glances, making both flush. They giggled as they briskly walked away. Once they had turned a corner, Josele spoke up again.

"I was hoping that, as a recently married woman, you might have some advice on what to get my husband to be," Josele explained and rubbed the back of her neck. "Since there won't be a wedding party... we're getting gifts for each other."

"Ahhhh..." Solara touched a hand to her chin and looked up.

There was a lot to consider. Since it would just be Josele and Nacht exchanging gifts, it had to be something genuine. A gag gift is acceptable from a friend. Something racy, even from a spouse would send the wrong message. There was also the fact that Solara couldn't suggest something definitive, not knowing what Nacht would appreciate. But she could still help Josele determine that for herself.

Solara looked to Josele and found the woman with an apprehensive look.

"Too big of an ask?" Josele said. "Perhaps I should've asked—"

"No, not too big," answered Solara and nonchalantly waved a hand in the air. "Just a careful subject."

"Mm, true."

“So what have you considered giving him so far?”

To answer, Josele removed a dagger from her belt and unsheathed it about an inch. The handle and sheath were made of ivory and carved with an intricate pattern of twisting ivy. The blade was impossibly pure steel that reflected like a mirror.

“Nacht and I actually met when I caught him trying to steal this dagger from my father. I thought it might be nice to give him the very item that brought us together.”

Solara stared at Josele with wide eyes. Josele surely couldn’t be serious? But Solara saw the fondness in Josele’s eyes and was reminded that Josele was not only raised in another country but another station in society. Their worldviews, while overlapping more than Solara initially believed, were still different. Solara turned her head and coughed into her fist.

“Ah, Joey, not to shoot down the idea too harshly but, at least in Thean culture, gifting knives to others is considered rather poor etiquette.”

Josele raised her head and tilted it to the side. "Really? My dad said the dagger was a gift from my grandpa on his own wedding day."

Solara paused, blinking rapidly as she took in the information. They really did inhabit different corners of the same world.

"So it was already given at a wedding?" Solara yelped. She quickly covered her mouth at her outburst. She grinned despite the heat of embarrassment in her cheeks. "See, at least in Thea, gifting a dagger or knife to another person has the implied meaning of 'take this blade and use it on yourself.'" Solara noted the way Josele's eyes grew wide and her face visibly lost color. Josele averted her eyes and slowly put the dagger away. Attempting to ease the sudden tension, Solara forced herself to laugh. "Supposedly, it comes from ancient times when traitors were expected to stab their own hearts if they were caught in the act. I don't actually know if what I'm saying is relevant to Clover though."

Josele tucked her hair back then rubbed her neck.

"To be honest, I am reminded of how Morgen and Nacht caused a bit of a stir when they gifted me my sword." Josele's hand wandered down to the hilt of her primary weapon and ghosting her fingers along the grip and tracing the guard. It wasn't particularly ornate but the combined material and craftsmanship certainly looked like it would be out of the price range of a commoner. To think that the weapon would've lasted Josele all these years. "I think, even though many nobles as Magic Knights create weapons through spells, using physical weapons is seen as... beneath them."

Josele's voice carried a weight to it. Not sadness or anger but rather something that dulled her spirits.

"Even if they never used it, the twins gifting me a sword might've been seen as controversial in noble circles."

"I'd chalk it up to the dearth of teyus in Clover. It's shaped the culture here in a rather..." Saying "odd" or "strange" since Thea's culture would be considered as such to Clover. "Distinct" doesn't quite work because all culture are distinct in some way. "In a way, let's say."

"In a way." Josele repeated.

"But we're in agreement that the dagger is off the table."

"Yup." Josele made the "p" sound pop at the end. "The only other thing I considered was sewing something like a baby blanket or onesie. As a look to the future instead of the past. But that kind of gift wouldn't be for Nacht's use."

Solara nodded her head and sighed.

There was her sewing baby socks and Fuegoleon buying lion plushes for future children in their spare time. And then there was giving a baby item as a wedding gift to one's spouse. Very different contexts. And different implications.

From what Solara knew of Josele and Nacht...

"I think the frankness might be a bit much too."

However, Solara’s mind repeated what Josele had said. About “a look to the future.” The her knowledge on it was sparse, the past was a heavy topic for Nacht and Josele. So a gift that brought to mind the future might’ve been the better option. There was also the fact that Nacht was a man of subtlety. In most cases. So too would the gift have to be discreet. A discreet gift would also keep attention from being drawn to Nacht and arousing suspicion if the union was to be as lowkey as possible. Subtle and future-oriented. Not impossible criteria to fulfill.

So where to start?

Solara looked at Josele, whose eyes were closed in concentration. Taking the opportunity, she looked at the rings. She never had the chance to see them up close but with the small distance, Solara could make out just enough. The rings were so different, one wouldn’t think that they were to be a pair. But there was one similarity to them, not in looks but in sentiment. They were rather simple. Not the plainest of rings by a considerable margin but there could’ve been more to either; more jewels on Josele’s or a pattern in the metal of Morgen’s. But no. They were simple and straightforward. She looked at the rings for a moment longer, then to Josele herself.

“Are you and Nacht already exchanging rings?” Solara asked a bit abruptly given how she and Josele had lapsed into silence for a moment.

Josele’s eyes opened. And the sadness reflected within answered all too clearly for Solara. But when Josele opened her mouth to speak, Solara let the words flow out of her.

“I’m not opposed to getting a new one but…” Josele touched the ones that hung from her neck. “We decided against it. For now.”

That alone spoke volumes for Solara.

“Then perhaps… a trinket or token to stand in for a ring?”

That wasn't a bad suggestion. Even if Nacht wasn't, despite being rather fond of belts, prone to wearing accessories or jewelry, for that matter.

"Perhaps..." Josele uttered. "Though that leaves the question of what kind."

Solara thought for a while. She still couldn't argue knowing Nacht, or what he... liked and did not like. But surely he'd take whatever Josele would give him. And thus, though the sentiment of getting something that would suit him, would be preferable, but allowed for some wiggle room.

"Does he... have a fondness for hair accessories? Considering that he has long hair?" She asked, which brought an amused smile to Josele's lips.

"No, he's not one to style his own hair. Not more than necessary, at least," she replied, though she couldn't help but muse to the thought of making an elaborate braid crown for Nacht some day.

Solara nodded to her. It might not have been a solution, but it was narrowing down the options.

"Then, I suppose that the most common trinkets, to be worn, would be either a necklace or a bracelet," she thought out loud. "Unless you want to give him an ankle bracelet."

Josele hesitated for a moment. Because though the suggestion of a bracelet was logical enough, it bore more than unfortunate connotations to her, and Nacht.

"No bracelet..." she uttered with a rather melancholic tone, which she couldn't help, as it brought her hand back to the rings around her neck.

Solara said nothing but nodded. Whatever it was that made Josele turn down the idea of the bracelet, that could be left to her. It didn't matter, not to Solara. What mattered in that moment was the woman standing with her and her wish to celebrate a happy future to be made.

Solara reached out and set a hand on Josele's shoulder. When Josele's eyes met her own, Solara smiled faintly. Josele's own smile returned to her face, a warm gratitude coming across as clear as the sky above them.

"A necklace would actually be appropriate. Something to accompany the relics." Josele colored up and there was a shine in her eyes that Solara was certain was directed to the man whom Josele would soon pledge herself to.

With the type of token decided, Solara and Josele made their way to the nearest jeweler's store. After all, Solara pointed out, having examples set before Josele would give her ideas of what she would actually want to get Nacht.

“Perhaps,” Josele said while peering into one of the glass display cases, “something with a moon. He always calls me his ‘star’ and so what goes better with the stars than the moon.”

“Oh that’s a lovely idea,” Solara replied. “It complements his pet name for you and I’m sure there’s more you have in mind.”

“The moon changes constantly but is always present, just like how he and I will change with time but still share in love,” Josele whispered, swaying a bit with the romantic thought.

Solara hummed, thinking to the moon in her own life. No matter how Selena, or Solara herself, changed, they would forever be sisters and care for each other. Not only that, but even when things looked dark, like a new moon, there was a comfort in knowing they could be there for each other.

Solara surveyed the jewelry. “What of that one?”

The necklace Solara pointed to was a circular pendant with a crescent of white gems in it while black gems were embedded in the rest of the circle, giving the impression of a crescent moon.

Josele let out a snort.

“Too bedazzled for your dark shadow prince?”

“Maybe a couple jewels too many,” Josele answered between giggles. “But… something about it does look nice…”

Josele waved over a worker and asked to be shown a collection of lunar themed pendants. It didn’t take long for a tray of samples to be brought out. Drumming her fingers on a glass counter, Josele stared at the necklaces. There was a pout on her face.

“They’re lovely but… the crescent… It kind of feels like there’s something missing.”

“It’s unfortunate that it’s the most distinctive shape for a moon.” Solara set down the pendant she had been examining. “Is there any other, I suppose, sentiment you want to convey to Lord Faust with the gift?”

Josele leaned back and away from the counter.

“Well, I wanted the moon for how it changes but also… it’s a light in darkness. Nacht is similar, though he doesn’t realize it. He cared for me when…” She shook her head, not wanting to finish the thought. “Not only that but I want Nacht to think of the future with hope.”

“Caring and hopeful? Like a guardian angel?”

“Yeah actually!” Josele exclaimed. “And maybe there could be a gem centerpiece…”

Solara raised a fist and grinned. “Let’s get looking then.”

There was something so amusing in her gesture to Josele. It seemed more like something Fuegoleon might do, rather than Solara herself. But maybe that's what growing to be a couple was about, adopting little maneuvers from each other, and knowing what the other was going to say, before they said it.

And perhaps gestures like that were more visible to those who were observing from the sidelines.

They asked the clerk if there were any pendants with a more angelic theme, and after a while, there was an assortment of various wing, and halo, pedants presented before them.

But, just as before, all these beautiful pieces of jewelry seemed to have something missing.

Solara looked at the melancholic expression on Josele, guessing that this wasn't it either.

"Something not quite right with these either?" She asked.

"No... not, not quite," Josele shook her head, though only faintly. "They're all so... bright?" The question in her tone was more so a question on if that was the right word to use, rather than about the quality of the pendants themselves. "Because... he's... Well. He was a bit of a troublemaker in his past, and... though I want him to think of the bright future ahead of us, with the sentiment of hope, I… don't think that such a 'bright' piece of jewelry is... fits his image."

Solara hummed in thought. But it was fair and fitting. Because Nacht certainly didn't try to appear like a knight in a shining armor.

"He's..." Josele continued, as a wide smile rose to her lips. "My darling devil divine..."

"With the heart of a gem," Solara continued. And paused. "No, wait, it's 'a heart of gold,' isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Josele giggled.

“A man with dark powers and a shining heart, that’s my Nacht,” Josele stated with a sigh. As though the thought of the man alone took her breath away.

Not that Solara could judge. That was the nature of love at times. And Solara believed such wistful behavior was showing more because of what was in the near future for Josele.

Josele traced a finger around one of the angel wing pendants. There was a thoughtfulness, even admiration, in how carefully she looked at it. She nodded to herself then asked the clerk if they had any pendants of similar design—she had taken a liking to the wing motif—but made with a darker material.

The third selection had a mix of pendants that resembled bird or bat wings. Some were encrusted with jewels and others were embellished with finer details in the metal.

“I think we’re getting close,” Solara said, plucking up a pendant depicting bat wings curling around a gem to form a heart shape. “I don’t want to presume but these have an elegance like the night which feels apt.”

“No I agree.” Josele beamed, her eyes surveying the selection in excitement. “The darkness can be beautiful, kind even. Like the devils’ power…”

Josele, seeming to have caught what she just said, looked to the clerk with an apologetic look.

“It’s, uh, not what…”

Solara stepped between and quickly took over the situation. “If you’ll recall, it was reported that it was a Magic Knight wielding a devil’s power that struck down the King of Devils. I believe my friend is making reference to that.”

The clerk pursed her lips and nodded. “I… see…” They turned and stepped away, leaving the women to evaluate the jewelry left out.

Solara turned to Josele who hid her face behind her hands.

"You handle yourself with such poise, Solara."

"It comes with years of etiquette training," Solara replied, brushing aside the interaction. "And you were just speaking your mind. No real shame."

"I'm sure your husband would disagree," Josele tried to joke to alleviate the tension.

An amused smile passed over Solara's lips for a second, which was followed by a sigh, and a look towards Josele.

"Well. At least you didn't suckerpunch him like I did with William."

Josele pursed her lips. Solara's confession was a reminder that she was not merely warm sunlight but the sun itself, burning with passion. And that passion had been directed towards a, quite justified, show of force.

Josele shook her head, bringing her back to the present issue of the gift.

Blackened metal shined. Jewels of darker hues shimmered. Josele's attention was especially drawn to a necklace that had two wings made of rounded feathers curved to form a heart. No gemstones for embellishment, just beautifully polished dark silver. She set it side-by-side with the necklace Solara had picked out earlier.

Taking elements from both would look nice, Josele mused, imagining a gemstone being framed by the feathered wings. But... "These would suit his image better and I would like for Nacht to take it as a reminder to take pride in himself and his abilities. I don't think it's right though, having something with a darker aesthetic symbolize hope for the future, that is."

"Ah, yes. As much as we say 'it is darkest before the dawn,' we still fear the dark." Solara looked at Josele's choices. "Perhaps if you want a gem centerpiece, we can pick out one of a lighter hue. To brighten it just a little?"

"Or..." Josele didn't look at Solara but instead kept her eyes fixated on the necklaces. She tilted her head to the side. "Shadows... Wouldn't you say they're the meeting point of pure light and pure darkness?"

"That sounds like an accurate description to me." Solara leaned forward against the counter. "I take it you have an idea for what to do."

Josele answered with a smile and nod in Solara's direction. "Yes, and I think it'll be more than suitable."

It didn't take long for Josele to explain to a worker the idea she had in mind. Solara agreed to have news of progress on the custom piece sent to her lest Nacht find it amongst the rest of the Black Bulls' mail and ruin the surprise.

As the women left the shop, Solara noted how brightly Josele smiled.

"My, I don't believe I've ever seen a smile like that from you before. You really are enthusiastic, aren't you?"

Josele shyly turned her head away. "Well... I'm not sure how this might come across but... I feel..." She tucked some loose hair back. "I feel the same way I did the day I found Morgen's ring." When Josele reached for the silver band that hung from her neck, it was not with melancholy but overwhelming joy. "I remember seeing it and knowing in my heart that it was meant for him. Nacht's gift took a little more work but I still feel like it's meant to be."

Solara grinned. She couldn't think of something to say in reply, if there even was anything to say. She didn't have Josele's experience. Of having and losing love then finding it again. Sure, Solara and Fuegoleon had concerns with their own relationship but those were unique to them. And Josele's love for Morgen and Nacht were uniquely hers. That left Solara at a loss despite wanting to voice something on that happiness that Josele found again.

Josele suddenly stopped and turned to Solara.

"Thank you," she said plainly. "For helping me with this errand." Josele placed a hand on Solara's upper arm. "And for what your heart tells me."

Solara flushed then giggled. How could she have forgotten? There hadn't been a need for words in the first place. Josele simply knew.

"I'm happy to help."

More than happy really. Even if Solara would not be in attendance for the union, being able to help it come together was enough. And she could now look forward to a letter addressed from one Josele Faust.

#black clover #black clover oc #josele canty #solara equinox #black clover fanfic #soda's ocs #laura's oc #laura the writing senpai #nacsele #fuelara #okay writing this together on discord i didn't think the word count would be so high!#KADhflaishrktjasrht!#so many words for such simple tasks #then again there is a lot of be said regarding marriage and getting a gift that is just right

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pixyys · 2 years

Text

— i'll be counting on that

context. chuuya x lawyer! reader - pt. 2

the mafia executive helps you with some wine picking.

warnings/ notes. you're basically ada's legal advisor with an ability to read minds; chuuya cursing.

"say, i know this is a random question," you try to even your voice. desperate to break the awkward tension. "but have you ever considered marrying—if circumstances allow, of course."

"the hell are you talking about?"

right. how did you get into this situation, again?

just this morning, your computer lighted up, a mail from a former client of yours was displayed on the screen. it was one of the older clients whose case you successfully handled during your days at your old firm. maybe you are just too good at your job, or maybe she's just too nice that she regards you as a close friend.

your client, a middle aged woman, apparently just remarried and she invited you to her wedding ceremony, all the way to tokyo, which is far away from yokohama, which is also why it is impossible for you to attend.

so you figured, 'at least i should send a wedding gift with some congratulatory card!' and you wound up in one of the best quality wine stores the city offers. it's just that the individual you stumbled upon is not one you exactly anticipated.

"no, sorry—" you choke on your own words. "i didn't mean any harm! wait- you wouldn't dare try anything funny. this store have security cameras!"

not that some security cameras can stop a mafia executive from absolutely decimating your non-combatant, armed detective agency-affiliated self.

"i'm on my day off," the man shrugs. "don't give a shit about who you are. i'm just here for the wine."

nakahara chuuya, a fearsome mafioso executive. part of the port mafia and by extent, should be your worst nemesis. but a day off he said? that was an extremely good news.

"so," the hatted mafioso turns to the aisles of liquors. "what's with the wedding thing?"

"oh, right. you know a lot about alcohol right?" and probably guns and rifles and murder since you're part of the shady mafia guys.

you shake your head, reeling yourself out from uneccessary prejudices. "i was wondering what kind of wine would you choose- if you'll have a wedding ceremony, someday."

"you getting married or something?"

a heavy, tired breath resounds in the room. right, if only. at this age, not seldom did some friends or clients bring up the topic of marriage. but it's not like you have someone in mind, or that the danger of your current job allows you to.

"someone i know invited me to their ceremony," you raise your shoulders. "i can't attend, so i figure sending her a gift instead."

"so, out of everything, you settled with a bottle of wine?"

well, yes. but it's just that wine came to your mind after one of your peculiar coworkers mentioned suicide by alcohol poisoning. but you won't tell anyone that.

"i don't know," you groan, "should i just settle with scented candles? but that sounds too easy. a kitchen set?"

"that's lame," remarks the alcohol enthusiast, languidly skimmming over the racks of dark colored glass bottles. "you'll be better off with some wine."

"right? though i don't know which; too cheap and i'll be inconsiderate, too expensive and i'll be broke."

it's a wonder how you two eased up with each other so seamlessly.

by all means, you two have met before; as a member of the armed detective agency and as one of the executives of the port mafia. it wasn't exactly.. civil. but the way you've been casually chatting like old friends thus far makes you wonder if you two would make great acquaintances should the circumstances differ.

"are you kidding me?" you give the hatted man an incredulous stare. "her husband is crazy rich! give her this and i might as well buy her some towels or plastic bowls!"

"'are you kidding me' my ass," chuuya sends back the mild ire. "who's been prattling and worrying about putting some hole in their wallet?"

"ehem," a polite cough is heard in the room. with the shop being relatively empty, the sound travels clear and crisp through the otherwise quiet atmosphere.

though you and chuuya weren't exactly being quiet.

"may i help you, esteemed patrons?" the shopkeeper's voice rings a deep baritone. he is an elderly gentleman who exudes the aura of an aged profesional in their work—like the manager of cafe uzumaki.

"ah, yes. we were wondering about a suitable kind of wine for a wedding occasion."

"ah, a wedding occasion," the man says, almost fondly. "my most sincere felicitations. may i ask your preferences? what kind of wine do you have in mind? will there be a set of particular dishes to be paired with it?

"uh," you look around, frantically trying to remember the miscellaneous options chuuya iterated. "how about that one?" you gesture to the one you vaguely remember as one of the man's favorite. it is labeled fancily as '2000 petrus.'

"most excellent choice. that is one of the best we have-

"a bordeaux should age well," your companion suddenly cuts him off, his eyes nonchalantly flitting from one line of liquor to another. "do you have any sauvignon blanc? it doesn't have to be too vintage. they'll have one bottle." he gestures to you.

the shopkeeper, despite a bit rattled and slightly surprised by chuuya's sudden decision, simply offers a nod and told you to wait for a moment while he gets your product.

you two, once again, are left with silence. standing idly between mountainous amount of neatly displayed bottles of alcohol.

"something that ages well," you mumble quietly, "and not too vintage. it's less expensive and they can save it and open it later for anniversaries, you're a genius."

the wine connoisseur you newly acknowledge hums. his arms are crossed in front of his chest, masking his proud huff.

"of course. so you're actually not that dumb, or are you reading my mind-"

"anywho!" you chuckle nervously, skirting around the topic as you watch the the polite shopkeeper disappear among the many aisles, "is it just me, or did that person think we're the ones getting married?"

"the hell you're looking at me for?" chuuya bristles at you. "you're the one who like to word things weirdly."

well, true.

the next few seconds is filled with an awkward pause. you would love to coolly gaze over the expensive looking bottles and start some cultured discussion. but alas, you were no wine connoisseur.

so a quip came out before you can stop it.

"it'll be pretty funny if we did though."

you imagine the fearsome mafioso, suddenly pampered to the hilt and clad in a white suit and flowery ornaments. maybe the wedding stylist will ask him to wear heeled shoes. because what if there's an unexpected height gap? what if the part where the newlyweds are allowed to kiss look pretty funny?-

"AH!" a voice breaks you out of your trance, along with it ushering away your unconscious grin. "YOU'RE MAKING FUN OF MY HEIGHT, AREN'T YOU?" chuuya shouts in a barely concealed outburst . maybe it's true that small things can fit more rage in it.

"..no, i'm not."

"YOU DID, DIDN'T YOU? YOU-"

"okay, okay, alright," you try to placate him. afraid the kind shopkeeper might catch you both, again, and finally throw you out of the shop -or at least develop a bad impression on you.

"how about this," you grab one of the fancy looking wines you pointed before. "i didn't mean any offense, i swear. but just in case, how about i get you this?" you gesture to the 'petrus' label from before.

"oh?" the hatted man raises a brow, "trying to bribe me now?"

"it's not like i'm bribing you for intel, geez." you cradle the bottle between your arms. "besides, i kind of owe you for helping me. it's shouldn't be that expensive, right?"

you shift your feet, idly skimming the label of the bottle.

..right?

"right," chuuya casually takes two of the bottle, then briskly, smugly, if you reallly payed attention, goes to the cashier section. "its not that expensive."

damn. must be nice to be filthy, nasty rich.

chuuya briefly turns to your form, observing your creased eyebrows and almost constipated expression.

"you're pretty interesting!" he guffaws, reaching the counter and almost slamming the precious, expensive bottles in front of the poor cashier staff. "might as well invite you for a drink-"

"you received a new message!"

your phone rings out. just in time as the shopkeeper comes back with your sauvignon blanc.

"-but as we know," chuuya points his chin towards your pocket. "we're both busy. so that's impossible."

it's true that you're a bit busy, actually very busy, and not in your day off. unlike the mafia executive. but it's not like you really want to know only god knows what mafia executives do in their day off. so you focus on the many pages of the agency's legal documents miss haruno just emailed you to check on later.

"well, i'm the one who still owe you.." you trail off, eyes still on your screen. "maybe the next time we meet -hopefully when we're not trying to kill each other."

you doubt that, and something tells you chuuya does too. but he didn't offer anything but a loose smirtle.

"i'll be counting on that."

note. yeah, so.. chuuya. i can't resist, everyone in bsd is very pretty, and I ABSOLUTELY HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT WINES AND LIQUORS LMAO hope i did well. feel free to correct me if you notice anything off!

by the way 2000 petrus is a ridiculously expensive wine. the 1989 petrus one was what chuuya opened when dazai defected, which is also ridiculously expensive.

bordeaux is a type of wine ideal for an anniversary wine because it ages well. (source). sauvignon blanc is a white wine and is one example of a bordeaux.

#[bungou stray dogs]#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya

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percabeth4life · 3 years

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i want to know the original version of hades and persephone story. there are so many versions I've read and i wanted to know which one do you believe in or which one do you think is the real one?

Okay so to start with. If we wanna really go back, Hades came into existence after Persephone. But alas, we aren't speaking of this version.

We are talking about the version where Hades sweeps Persephone away without so much as a hello.

The problem is a lot of the stories of Ancient Greece are well... They're lost. They were primarily shared through oral tradition, and written down over time. And so many stories we may not know. On top of that, many that were written down were lost, destroyed or just vanished, to time. Plus, we don't know how to translate Linear A, but we do Linear B, and there may be a version somewhere in Linear A. Overall, it's just possible we don't know the earlier versions.

But the earliest version we do have is from the Homeric Hymn, from the 7th or 6th B.C.E. This hymn is actually one to Demeter, not Hades or Persephone. The myth, while speaking of the two, is actually about Demeter.

It is, for the time period it is from (and you must keep in mind the culture of the time to understand the myth) a feminist myth.

So the culture of the time.

In the time period women did not have the greatest of rights, something improved upon today, but it means that the Father (and/or King) had full rights to hand their daughters off to another man.

That is what happens in this myth, Zeus tells Hades he may have Persephone's hand... But Persephone did not wish to go. And likewise Demeter was not informed.

By the culture of the time that does not matter, but Demeter *makes* it matter. She searches for her daughter first, then when she discovers where Persephone was taken and who was the cause (Zeus) she is angered.

Demeter then refuses to step upon Olympus, not allow any plants to grow, until she sees her daughter again.

This is obviously a problem, so Zeus sends Hermes down to retrieve Persephone (who btw was unhappy and missed her mom). Persephone leaps up with joy to see her mother again and Hades agrees immediately. But he secretly feeds her pomegranate seeds just to be sure she would return.

The reason this is a feminist myth is because of Demeter, because she refused to accept her king and her daughter's father handing their daughter off in marriage. And she refused to such an extent that they had no choice but to compromise with her (and had Hades not forced Persephone to have the pomegranate seed she wouldn't have even had to compromise).

For the culture of the time, Zeus and Hades were taking actions that were more than okay, nothing they did would be considered wrong. But Demeter stood against it.

Demeter stood for her daughter to not be married off, and demanded she be returned, and Persephone (tho she came to love Hades) was relieved to return to her mother.

Many of the "new adaptions" have Persephone wanting to leave Demeter, wanting to be with her husband, and Demeter being overbearing. But originally it was mutual love, Mother and Daughter missing each other and the Mother fighting to get her daughter back when everything of the time said she had no right to.

And so the myth as we know occurs. This is the myth I ascribe too, being the oldest we have, and I do wish more realized how Demeter's actions are why the myth is so important.

I have copied the Hymn in it's entirety below the cut. It is fairly long and four parts. If you have questions about it, feel free to ask!

Homeric Hymn 2 to Demeter (abridged) (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C7th or 6th B.C.) :

I. HAIDES ABDUCTS PERSEPHONE

"[Demeter's] trim-ankled daughter whom Aidoneus [Haides] rapt away, given to him by all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer. Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Okeanos and gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus, which Gaia (the Earth) made to grow at the will of Zeus and to please Polydektor (Host of Many), to be a snare for the bloom-like girl--a marvellous, radiant flower. It was a thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its root grew a hundred blooms and it smelled most sweetly, so that all wide heaven (ouranos) above and the whole earth (gaia) and the sea's (thalassa) salt swell laughed for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take the lovely toy : but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain of Nysa, and the lord, Polydegmon (Host of Many) [Haides], with his immortal horses sprang out upon her--the Son of Kronos (Cronus), Polynomos (He Who has Many Names).

He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon her father [Zeus], the Son of Kronos, who is most high and excellent. But no one, either of the deathless gods or mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tender-hearted Hekate (Hecate), bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaios (Persaeus), heard the girl from her cave, and the lord Helios (the Sun), Hyperion's bright son, as she cried to her father, the Son of Kronos. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal men. So he [Haides], that Son of Kronos, Polynomos (Of Many Names), Polysemantor (Ruler of Many) and Polydegmon (Host of Many), was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot--his brother's child and all unwilling.

And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope clamed her great heart for all her trouble . . . and the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea ran with her immortal voice : and her queenly mother heard her.

II. DEMETER SEARCHES FOR PERSEPHONE

"Bitter pain seized her [Demeter's] heart, and she rent the covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands : her dark cloak she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal man; and of the birds of omen none came with true news for her. Then for nine days queenly Deo wandered over the earth with flaming torches in her hands, so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught of nektaros, nor sprinkled her body with water. But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Hekate, with a torch in her hands, met her, and spoke to her and told her news : ‘Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of good gifts, what god of heaven (theon ouranion) or what mortal man has rapt away Persephone and pierced with sorrow your dear heart? For I heard her voice, yet saw not with my eyes who it was. But I tell you truly and shortly all I know.’

So, then, said Hekate. And [Demeter] the daughter of rich-haired Rheia answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding flaming torches in her hands. So they came to Helios (the Sun), who is watchman of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses: and the bright goddess enquired of him : ‘Helios, do you at least regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by word or deed of mine I have cheered your heart and spirit. Through the fruitless air (aitheros) I heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare, sweet scion of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though with my eyes I saw nothing. But you--for with your beams you look down from the bright upper air (aitheros) over all the earth and sea--tell me truly of my dear child if you have seen her anywhere, what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will and mine, and so made off.’

So said she. And the Son of Hyperion [Helios] answered her : ‘Queen Demeter, daughter of rich-haired Rheia, I will tell you the truth; for I greatly reverence and pity you in your grief for your trim-ankled daughter. None other of the deathless gods is to blame, but only cloud-gathering Zeus who gave her to Aides, her father's brother, to be called his buxom wife. And Aides seized her and took her loudly crying in his chariot down to his realm of mist and gloom. Yet, goddess, cease your loud lament and keep not vain anger unrelentingly : Aidoneus Polysemantor (Ruler of Many) is no unfitting husband among the deathless gods for your child, being your own brother and born of the same stock: also, for honour, he has that third share which he received when division was made at the first, and is appointed lord of those among whom he dwells.’

So he spake, and called to his horses: and at his chiding they quickly whirled the swift chariot along, like long-winged birds. But grief yet more terrible and savage came into the heart of Demeter, and thereafter she was so angered with [Zeus] the dark-clouded Son of Kronos that she avoided the gathering of the gods and high Olympos. She [Demeter] vowed that she would never set foot on fragrant Olympos nor let fruit spring out of the ground until she beheld with her eyes her own fair-faced daughter.

III. THE RETURN OF PERSEPHONE

"Now when all-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer heard this, he sent Argeiphontes [Hermes] whose wand is of gold to Erebos, so that having won over Aides with soft words, he might lead forth chaste Persephoneia to the light from the misty gloom to join the gods, and that her mother might see her with her eyes and cease from her anger. And Hermes obeyed, and leaving the house of Olympos, straightway sprang down with speed to the hidden places of the earth. And he found the lord Aides in his house seated upon a couch, and his shy mate with him, much reluctant, because she yearned for her mother. But she was afar off, brooding on her fell design becuase of the deeds of the blessed gods. And strong Argeiphontes [Hermes] drew near and said : ‘Dark-haired Aides, ruler over the departed, father Zeus bids me bring noble Persephone forth from Erebos unot the gods, that her mother may see her with her eyes and cease from her dread anger with the immortals; for now she plans an awful deed, to destroy the weakly tribes of earth-born men by keeping seed hidden beneath the earth, and so she makes an end of the honours of the undying gods. For she keeps fearful anger and does not consort with the gods, but sits aloof in her fragrant temple, dwelling in the rocky hold of Eleusis.’

So he said. And Aidoneus, ruler over the dead, smiled grimly and obeyed the behest of Zeus the king. For he straightway urged wise Persephone, saying : ‘Go now, Persephoneia, to your dark-robed mother, go, and feel kindly in your heart towards me : be not so exceedingly cast down; for I shall be no unfitting husband for you among the deathless dods, that am own brother to father Zeus. And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods : those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, reverently performing rites and paying fit gifts, shall be punished for evermore.’

When he said this, wise Persephoneia was filled with joy and hastily sprang up for gladness. But he on his part secretly gave her sweet pomegranate seed to eat, taking care for himself that she might not remain continually with grave, dark-robed Demeter. Then Aidoneus Polysemantor (Ruler of Many) openly got ready his deathless horses beneath the golden chariot. And she mounted on the chariot, and strong Argeiphontes [Hermes] took reins and whip in his dear hands and drove forth from the hall, the horses speeding readily. Swiftly they traversed their long course, and neither the sea nor river-waters nor grassy glens nor mountain-peaks checked the career of the immortal horses, but they cleft the deep air above them as they went. And Hermes brought them to the place where rich-crowned Demeter was staying and checked them before her fragrant temple.

And when Demeter saw them, she rushed forth as does a Mainas (Maenad) down some thick-wooded mountain, while Persephone on the other side, when she saw her mother's sweet eyes, left the chariot and horses, and leaped down to run to her, and falling upon her neck, embraced her. But while Demeter was still holding her dear child in her arms, her heart suddenly misgave her for some snare, so that she feared greatly and ceased fondling her daughter and asked of her at once : ‘My child, tell me, surely you have not tasted any food while you were below? Speak out and hide nothing, but let us both know. For if you have not, you shall come back from loathly Aidao and live with me and your father [Zeus], the dark-clouded Son of Kronos and be honoured by all the deathless gods; but if you have tasted food, you must fo back again beneath the secret places of the earth, there to dwell a third part of the seasons every year: yet for the tow parts you shall be with me and the other deathless gods. But when the earth shall bloom with the fragrant flowers of spring in every kind, then from the realm of darkness and gloom thou shalt come up once more to be a wonder for gods and mortal men. And now tell me how he rapt you away to therealm of darkness and gloom, and by what trick did strong Polydegmon (Host of Many) [Haides] beguile you?’

Then beautiful Persephone answered her thus : ‘Mother, I will tell you all without error. When luck-bringing Hermes came, swift messenger from my father the Son of Kronos and the other Sons of Ouranos, bidding me come back from Erebos that you might see me with your eyes and so cease from your anger and fearful wrath against the gods, I sprang up at once for joy; but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will. Also I will tell how he rapt me away by the deep plan of my father [Zeus] the Son of Kronos and carried me off beneath the depths of the earth, and will relate the whole matter as you ask. All we were playing in a lovely meadow, Leukippe and Phaino and Elektra and Ianthe, Melite also and Iakhe with Rhodea and Kallirhoe and Melobosis and Tykhe and Okyrhoe, fair as a flower, Khryseis, Ianeira, Akaste and Admete and Rhodope and Plouto and charming Kalypso; Styx too was there and Ourania and lovely Galaxaure with Pallas who rouses battles and Artemis delighting in arrows: we were playing and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy; but the earth parted beneath, and there the strong lord, Polydegmon (Host of Many) [Haides] sprang forth and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all unwilling, beneath the earth : then I cried with a shrill cry. All this is true, sore though it grieves me to tell this tale.’

So did they then, with hearts at one, greatly cheer each the other's soul and spirit with many an embrace: their hearts had relief from their griefs while each took and gave back joyousness. Then bright-coiffed Hekate came near to them, and often did she embrace the daughter of holy Demeter: and from that time the lady Hekate was minister and companion to Persephone.

IV. GIFT OF AGRICULTURE & THE ELEUSINIAN MYSTERIES

"And all-seeing Zeus sent a messenger to them, rich-haired Rheia, to bring dark-cloaked Demeter to join the families of the gods (phyla theon) : and he promised to give her what rights she should choose among the deathless gods and agreed that her daughter should go down for the third part of the circling year to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts should live with her mother and the other deathless gods. Thus he commanded. And the goddess did not disobey the message of Zeus; swiftly she rushed down from the peaks of Olympos and came to the plain of Rharos, rich, fertile corn-land once, but then in nowise fruitful, for it lay idle and utterly leafless, because the white grain was hidden by design of trim-ankled Demeter. But afterwards, as spring-time waxed, it was soon to be waving with long ears of corn, and its rich furrows to be loaded with grain upon the ground, while others would already be bound in sheaves. There first she landed from the fruitless upper air (aitheros) : and glad were the goddesses to see each other and cheered in heart. Then bright-coiffed Rheia said to Demeter : ‘Come, my daughter; for far-seeing Zeus the loud-thunderer calls you to join the families of the gods, and has promised to give you what rights you please among the deathless gods, and has agreed that for a third part of the circling year your daughter shall go down to darkness and gloom, but for the two parts shall be with you and the other deathless gods: so has he declared it shall be and has bowed his head in token. But come, my child, obey, and be not too angry unrelentingly with the dark-clouded Son of Kronos; but rather increase forthwith for men the fruit that gives them life.’

So spake Rheia. And rich-crowned Demeter did not refuse but straightway made fruit to spring up from the rich lands, so that the whole wide earth was laden with leaves and flowers.

Then she [Demeter] went to [the leaders of Eleusis] . . . she showed them the conduct of her rites and taught them all her mysteries . . . awful mysteries which no one may in any way transgress or pry into or utter, for deep awe of the gods checks the voice. Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and who has no part in them, never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom. But when the bright goddess had taught them all, they went to Olympos to the gathering of the other gods. And there they dwell beside Zeus who delights in thunder, awful and reverend goddesses. Right blessed is he among men on earth whom they freely love: soon they do send Ploutos (Plutus, Wealth) as guest to his great house, Ploutos who gives wealth to mortal men.

And now . . . queen Deo, be gracious, you and your daughter all beauteous Persephoneia, and for my song grant me heart-cheering substance."

#demeterdeity #demeter deity #persephone deity #persphonedeity #hadesdeity #hades deity #anon asks #life answers #greek mythology #ancient greece #the hymn to demeter #the myth of hades and persphone #hades and persephone #hellenic chat

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Bell

Nie Huaisang has barely sat down when Jiang Cheng speaks.

“I’m ready to marry,” he says without warning and watches in amusement as Nie Huaisang fumbles with the tea pot.

Jiang Cheng decides not to mention the stain he leaves behind on the table.

“What the—uh, I mean, that’s great, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang finally manages to get out and then he shifts in his seat. “It’s just that—you’re great and all, and good looking of course, and everyone would be flattered, really, but I’m not?” he finishes weakly and Jiang Cheng hides his amused smile behind his cup of tea.

“I’m not speaking about you,” he eventually tells Nie Huaisang and it’s almost comical how he sags in relief.

“Then why the hell would you tell me this, Jiang-xiong, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” he wines and finally gets around to pouring himself a cup of tea. “What brought this on?”

“My Sect is stable for now and it feels like the right time to settle down,” Jiang Cheng tells him with a shrug. “A good alliance won’t hurt either, and my Elders are getting on my case about a marriage. I figured, why not.”

“And there’s someone you like?” Nie Huaisang wants to know and Jiang Cheng nods.

There’s even someone he loves.

“I still don’t see why you would tell me about this,” Nie Huaisang says after a moment and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“I’m looking for your approval,” Jiang Cheng says and gives Nie Huaisang enough time to widen his eyes in surprise before he goes on. “I wish to marry Nie Mingjue.”

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang whispers and suddenly he seems tense and sad and Jiang Cheng frowns.

This is not the reaction he expected.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nie Huaisang lowly says and Jiang Cheng puts his cup down harder than he wanted to.

“So I’m good enough for you but not your brother? Is this an insult to you or to me? Didn’t you say anyone would be flattered? Are you lying to me now, Huaisang?” he demands to know and Nie Huaisang flinches before he hides behind his fan.

Jiang Cheng glares at him, because Nie Huaisang damn well knows how he thinks about that.

“Of course not, that’s not it,” Nie Huaisang nervously says. “It’s just—da-ge isn’t doing so well,” Nie Huaisang finally admits and that at least Jiang Cheng can understand.

Even if a pit of worry opens in his stomach at hearing that.

“What do you mean?” he prompts Nie Huaisang when he falls silent again and Nie Huaisang’s fan speeds up.

“His qi deviations—it’s getting worse,” Nie Huaisang admits.

Jiang Cheng has seen a few of them over the course of his friendship with Nie Huaisang, mostly because Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to think twice about leaving his Sect for days or weeks at a time, always deciding to join Nie Huaisang when he came by on one of his visits to Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng just didn’t think it was this serious, yet.

“Worse?”

Nie Huaisang nods.

“More regular and more violent. Even er-ge—he told me—I should prepare, he said,” Nie Huaisang brings out and Jiang Cheng frowns.

If even Lan Xichen no longer has hope that his playing is doing something, then it really must be serious. The guy is a notorious optimist and for him to be pessimistic about it—Jiang Cheng doesn’t like it.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t played for him yet,” Jiang Cheng decides on a whim but a plan is forming in his mind.

He will not allow Nie Mingjue to die before he turns thirty. There’s no way in hell that will happen.

“Jiang-xiong, what do you think to achieve if even er-ge can’t help anymore?” Nie Huaisang wants to know but there’s the tiniest bit of hope in his voice.

“Maybe Lan Xichen goes about this wrong,” Jiang Cheng decides, the plan taking more concrete shape.

It would make sense if Lan Xichen’s playing isn’t having the desired effect if what Jiang Cheng thinks is true.

“Can you even play the song?” Nie Huaisang asks and Jiang Cheng grins at him.

“No, but I know a master who might be willing to teach me.”

He’s not talking about Lan Xichen, they both know it, and Nie Huaisang’s eyes go wide.

“It’s impossible, Jiang-xiong,” he then says with a shake of his head. “Even if Lan Qiren would be willing to teach you one of their secret songs, are you even good enough to learn it? And why would you think that you have more success than er-ge?”

“You seem to forget what my Sect’s motto is,” Jiang Cheng tells him and takes another sip from his tea. “Attempting the impossible is literally what I do,” he says and that, at least shuts Nie Huaisang up.

Jiang Cheng guesses it’s mostly because they are sitting in what was a burned out husk just a year ago but is now again a bustling, thriving Sect.

No one imagined Jiang Cheng would be able to rebuild Lotus Pier like this and he proved them all wrong.

He’s going to prove them wrong about Nie Mingjue’s impending death as well.

~*~*~

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Qiren greets him when Jiang Cheng enters the room.

“Teacher Lan Qiren,” he respectfully gives back and Lan Qiren waves him off in the same move he tells him to sit.

Jiang Cheng settles down and waits for Lan Qiren to pour them both some tea before he speaks. He did learn his lesson with Nie Huaisang, as amusing as that was.

“I intend to court Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng says and just like Nie Huaisang, Lan Qiren jerks with his words.

Jiang Cheng would be offended that this is everyone’s first reaction, but honestly, he thinks it’s more amusing than anything.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lan Qiren wants to know after a moment and Jiang Cheng gives him a winning smile.

“I need help with the courting gift,” Jiang Cheng tells him and watches as Lan Qiren’s eyebrows go up.

“What do you intend to give him that you think I’m able to help?”

“I need the Song of Clarity,” Jiang Cheng says without beating around the bush and Lan Qiren freezes.

“That’s a Clan secret,” Lan Qiren reminds him and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I know, but I’m counting on the fact that you care too much to deny me this,” he says. “Nie Mingjue’s death would devastate Lan Xichen and you love your nephew too much to want that to happen.”

Lan Qiren regards him in silence for a long moment before he sighs.

“If you want to marry him, it would devastate you, too. And you already lost so many,” Lan Qiren says and Jiang Cheng is surprised enough by his words that he falls silent.

He doesn’t see why Lan Qiren would care about if it hurts him, but it’s nice to know that he does.

“Which is why I won’t let it happen. But I need to learn to play the song.”

“What makes you think that you can achieve what my nephew cannot?”

“No offense to your nephew, but I think he’s going about this wrong,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug.

“Elaborate,” Lan Qiren says, but his voice doesn’t snap like it used to in the classroom when he was outraged and Jiang Cheng counts it as a win.

“Lan Xichen is a formidable musician, but outside of a fight he’s too soft. I haven’t heard him play for Nie Mingjue but I’m guessing he’s trying for a gentle, soothing approach. It won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Have you known Nie Mingjue to be gentle and soothing?” Jiang Cheng shoots back and Lan Qiren frowns. “Even when he cares about someone he’s gruff about it, an undercurrent of anger always there. It’s just who he is,” Jiang Cheng says, because he has witnessed it enough times to know it to be true.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t care about anyone more than his brother and even with him he can’t be gentle and soft. It’s just not who Nie Mingjue is as a person, and that’s perfectly alright. But Lan Xichen is trying to appeal to that side of Nie Mingjue, so it’s no wonder he’s not making any progress.

“What is your plan, then?” Lan Qiren inquires. “To sit on him and force him to listen instead of having him meditate?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng bluntly says, because he guesses that’s the only way he’ll get Nie Mingjue to listen and it would be the most effective. “The song doesn’t have an effect because Nie Mingjue is not gentle and soft, there’s nothing the song could react with. If you play the song when he’s angry and ready for a fight—it might wield more of a result.”

“You gave this a lot of thought,” Lan Qiren muses but he hasn’t yet snapped at Jiang Cheng and that simply has to be a good sign.

“Of course I did. I didn’t just wake up yesterday and decided I would marry Nie Mingjue.”

That happened a few weeks back, but Lan Qiren doesn’t need to know about that.

“Can you even play the guqin?”

“I was raised as the heir to one of the five Great Sects. We all had to learn,” he says with a shrug.

“But can you?” Lan Qiren asks again, clearly not buying Jiang Cheng’s bullshit.

“I have a basic understanding of it,” Jiang Cheng finally relents and a cold shiver goes down his back when Lan Qiren smiles at him.

“The Song of Clarity is one of the more complicated ones,” he warns him but Jiang Cheng has never met a challenge he wouldn’t take.

How hard can it be, anyway.

~*~*~

It turns out the Song of Clarity is a fucking bitch to learn and Jiang Cheng hates the song with a passion. It’s unnecessary stupid and hard and just out to make Jiang Cheng trip up over seemingly innocent looking notes and if he never has to play it again it will be too soon.

But he learned it for a reason and he did not go through all of this pain and hassle to simply never play it again.

“You’re ready,” Lan Qiren says two weeks into his lessons. “You can play it for Nie Mingjue.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng says, as he bows to Lan Qiren over his guqin.

“Did you send an official courtship letter yet?” Lan Qiren wants to know and he frowns when Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No. I talked to Huaisang, who told me not to marry his brother, because he’s bound to die soon. I doubt Nie Minjgue’s answer will be different at the moment, and I’m not accepting that. Huaisang did give me his blessing to try though, so there’s that.”

“I see,” Lan Qiren says and strokes his beard. “If Mingjue accepts, you send him here, for a talk.”

That makes Jiang Cheng freeze.

“A talk?”

“Jin Ling is too young to give Mingjue a fair warning as to what will happen to him if he makes you unhappy, so I’m going to step in.”

Jiang Cheng is unable to find his voice for the longest of times, because that he didn’t expect. He knows Lan Qiren has to like him at least a little bit, otherwise he would have kicked him out the moment Jiang Cheng barged in with his outrageous demand but this—this almost speaks of family.

“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng chokes out and when Lan Qiren smiles at him this time, it’s a soft thing.

“You’re very welcome, Wanyin. And now go and court that stubborn man.”

“I will,” Jiang Cheng says and gathers up his guqin. “I damn well will.”

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue is frowning at him when Jiang Cheng refuses to take a seat in the great hall.

“Why do you have to be so contrary today?” Nie Mingjue presses out and Jiang Cheng can see it, the unnatural anger, caused by the always threatening qi deviation.

He doesn’t like it, but he will damn well use it for his own gain here.

“I’m itching for a fight, can’t you see?” Jiang Cheng gives back and bares his teeth at Nie Mingjue. “Though I doubt you can take me today. I bet the anger makes you all sloppy,” Jiang Cheng teases him, fully aware of Nie Huaisang’s nervous flutter of his fan in the corner of the room and of Nie Mingjue’s narrowing eyes.

“What do you want, Wanyin?” Nie Mingjue snaps and for this Jiang Cheng softens his smile as much as he knows how to.

“I want to marry you,” he says and doesn’t let Nie Mingjue’s surprised gasp deter him. “But not if you’re going to make a widower out of me in the week after our wedding. So you’re going to endure me playing the most boring, difficult fucking song for you, or I will force you to.”

“Force me to,” Nie Mingjue repeats and gets up. “You think you can force me to listen to it?”

“Look at you,” Jiang Cheng scoffs, though his heart is beating quicker with the threat hanging over him. Nie Mingjue is a formidable warrior after all. “Your hands are already shaking. You can’t beat me.”

Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue have sparred a lot when he came to visit Lotus Pier and Jiang Cheng did win a few times, but it was too rare for this kind of confidence and Jiang Cheng knows it.

He is counting on the fact that Nie Mingjue really is too far gone already to put up much of a fight.

“Fuck you,” Nie Mingjue hisses but he reaches for Baxia.

“You can, if you win,” Jiang Cheng cheekily gives back. “If I win, I will sit on you and you will damn well listen to me play.”

~*~*~

The moment Nie Mingjue hits the ground, Jiang Cheng is on him, whipping out the guqin Lan Qiren gave him as he settles down on Nie Mingjue’s back.

Jiang Cheng makes himself heavier than he usually is—using one of the many talismans Wei Wuxian came up with back in the day—and Nie Mingjue struggles under him, cursing and yelling, hitting the ground and kicking his legs.

Jiang Cheng will never get a better opportunity than this.

He starts to play the Song of Clarity, his own emotions running high from the fight and from his worry for Nie Mingjue and he thinks it might just be okay like that.

Clearly Nie Mingjue doesn’t react to the gentleness with which Lan Xichen plays for him; maybe he needs to have this song played a bit more aggressively as well.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t stop his struggling throughout the whole song but Jiang Cheng isn’t deterred by that. When he ends it, he looks over his shoulder down at Nie Mingjue who is glaring at him.

“You need me to play it again?” Jiang Cheng challenges him and Nie Mingjue huffs.

“I hate that fucking song.”

“The feeling is mutual, but you’re not getting out of this the easy way. So what will it be?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng startles when Nie Mingjue slaps the ground, apparently in anger before he sags.

“Play it again,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng can’t fight the rush of happy satisfaction that runs through him.

So he plays the cursed song again and then one more time for good measure, though for that last one he allows Nie Mingjue to get up and go through forms with Baxia and when he finally, finally vanishes the guqin again, Nie Mingjue’s grip is steady and his eyes are clear.

“How the hell did you do that?” Nie Mingjue demands to know once he’s done with his form and Jiang Cheng gets up to stretch his legs.

He never really was one for sitting down.

“I played the song, same as everyone else,” he gives back but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“Yours is different.”

“Because I don’t try to soothe you with it. I don’t want to get rid of your anger or your gruffness. I want to get rid of the death that could follow it, so I play for that.”

“Is that why Xichen’s song doesn’t work?”

“Probably,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug and then he startles when Nie Mingjue simply drops Baxia to the ground.

There’s a heart stopping moment where Jiang Cheng fears that he overdid it, or that he did something wrong, that Nie Mingjue is experiencing a qi deviation at that very moment, but before he can move and try to help in any way possible Nie Mingjue’s hands are on his face and Jiang Cheng is being pulled into a scorching kiss.

“I don’t know what you intend to give me for our wedding, but nothing can compete with this,” Nie Mingjue breathes out when they part and Jiang Cheng darts in to nibble on his lower lip.

“Try me,” he says and claims Nie Mingjue’s lips again, because he can and there is nothing else he wants to be doing at that moment.

Judging by how they just barely make it to Nie Mingjue’s room, the feeling is mutual.

(Jiang Cheng does have a better gift at the wedding; he modified the Yunmeng Jiang Clarity Bell in a way that allows it to resonate with Baxia, to clear away resentment and to replicate the effects of the so despised song without Jiang Cheng ever having to play it again. It turns out Nie Huaisang is the most grateful for that, actually, because he started to hate the song with a passion, too.)

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #jiang cheng #nie mingjue #lan qiren #nie huaisang #fix it #song of clarity #cursing #getting together #courtship #humor #jc is not going to let nmj die of something as trivial as a goddamn qi deviation #just watch him

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 13 - ao3 -

The wedding of a sect leader with the stature of Wen Ruohan was, as Lao Nie had predicted, an experience unlike any Lan Qiren had ever had before.

It was also, as Wen Ruohan had predicted, loud and full of crowds, things that Lan Qiren didn’t especially like. Luckily, despite being the groom’s ‘brother’, Wen Ruohan wasn’t requiring Lan Qiren to actually participate in any way, and he was just able to watch from a distance.

He tried not to think of Wen Ruohan’s casual admission that he had, in fact, devised the marriage just to deal with the issues with Lan Qiren’s reputation – and Lao Nie’s concern thereof, no doubt – and reassured himself that the bride was undoubtedly well prepared for her new life and would soon find her footing as the mistress of the Wen sect, where she would more than likely be happy in time.

That was how such things went, wasn’t it? Even with his sect’s notorious tendency towards love-madness, the people like his father, who married for love, were the exception and not the rule…

(He also tried not to think about the fact that Wen Ruohan accepted all the toasts for his wedding using a drinking bowl in Gusu style, painted with a border of vermilion birds, or the fact that, despite Lan Qiren having gifted a set, it was the only one of its kind on the table, leaving Wen Ruohan's new bride to drink from a much fancier gold-gilded bowl – but that was more because he didn’t understand what it meant, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.)

“Did you even get a chance to see him?” his brother asked when they returned, looking coldly disapproving.

“I did,” Lan Qiren said, thinking to himself less of the dinner that they’d shared with Lao Nie and more of the brief moment when the Lan sect delegation been about to leave, a servant appearing and whisking him off briefly back to the family quarters where Wen Ruohan, looking as composed as ever, pressed a too-familiar hand to his head and told him that he was sure he’d be seeing him again soon. “He didn’t say much.”

Nothing his brother would care about, anyway.

His brother nodded, looking unsurprised, and dismissed him, remarking unnecessarily, “You missed the first few days of classes,” as if Lan Qiren wasn’t aware of when each season of classes started for the disciples better than him. After all, Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher one day, when he tired of traveling, and to do for future generations of the Lan sect what his teachers had done for him, and he took it as seriously as he did anything else.

The seasonal classes were his favorite, largely because such classes were open not only to the Lan sect disciples but to certain guest disciples – typically the children of rogue cultivators that the Lan sect wanted to encourage to join the sect, which meant that they had to pass through the same rigorous standards applicable to the usual sect disciples. Lan Qiren had always thought it was a shame that their classes were so limited in scope, although he acknowledged there wasn’t much to be done about it; after all, how many sects would be willing to send their children to be taught by outsiders?

A puzzle for another day.

For now, Lan Qiren made his way to the classroom, taking advantage of the lunch break to settle his things in his familiar seat at the side of the room. He hoped that coming in during the middle of the day would reduce the number of whispers that seemed to invariably greet him these days – luckily much more inclined to see him as a source of information rather than a victim or, worse, a perpetrator – but he didn’t have much faith in it.

“Hey, you’re in my seat.”

Lan Qiren looked up: it was a female disciple. Her face was unfamiliar to him, which suggested she was a rogue cultivator – while men and women lived separately in the Cloud Recesses, they came together for meals and other such events, and despite his introversion, Lan Qiren knew most if not all of his peer group by now.

“Sanren,” he said politely, rising and saluting. “Forgive me, but this has always been my seat.”

She frowned at him. “You didn’t claim it at the start of classes.”

“I missed the start of classes due to an unavoidable conflict.”

“I’ve been using it all week,” she said, and looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating an answer.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say here. “I’ve been using it all my life. What’s your point?”

“So you’re not going to give it up for me?”

Lan Qiren stared at her. “Obviously not.”

She grinned toothily at him. “All the boys give up their seats for me. I understand that it’s a matter of etiquette.”

“Whoever told you that was lying,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I like you,” she said, and crossed her arms – an aggressive posture, although her tone, like Wen Ruohan’s, seemed more amused than anything else. How strange to see a sudden resemblance, when they very clearly had nothing else in common. “How would you know? Maybe it’s in the rules.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Really,” Lan Qiren said, and smiled. “Why don’t we examine that supposition?”

She blinked at him, suddenly wary, but it was too late: if there was one thing Lan Qiren knew, it was his sect’s rules. Learning how to beat people over the head with them on purpose was a more recent development, and he was still working on fine-tuning that – most people started begging for mercy while he still felt irritated, but when they continued listening with apparent interest, as the rogue cultivator girl did, he swiftly forgot that he was trying to make a point and shifted over to actual enthusiasm for the subject.

“Cangse Sanren!”

Lan Qiren’s listener started and very nearly fell over – she’d put her chin on her hands at some point during the discussion of the origin of the rules regarding interactions between men and women, and hadn’t accounted for that when twisting to see who was calling her.

It was a mixed group of sect disciples, with some of Lan Qiren’s cousins and disciples of other surnames that he recognized, plus a few more that were likely rogue cultivators’ children as well.

“Oh,” she said. “You. What is it?”

“I see you got caught up in one of Lan-er-gongzi’s boring rule lectures,” one of the disciples said – one of Lan Ganhui’s friends, with Lan Ganhui himself nearby, grimacing at him in an attempt to make him stop. Lan Ganhui had gotten a lot more likely to leave Lan Qiren alone ever since Lan Yueheng had decided to befriend him, even intervening to make his friends leave off, but this time the other disciple ignored him, his eyes too focused on those ahead of him to pay him any mind; he was smiling intently at the rogue cultivator girl in a way that was clearly attempting to seem charming. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to him just because he’s main branch, you know! No one else does.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” one of the others muttered, glancing warily at Lan Qiren. It wasn’t apparent whether he was concerned about Lan Qiren’s rank, personality, or family connection.

For his part, Lan Qiren just felt tired. He would like to think that they were all part of the same sect, learning the same things, but he knew that wasn’t how the world worked. There were good people and bad in every sect, and the undercurrents that came with any community were inescapable.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl – who had the title of Cangse Sanren, apparently – said unexpectedly. “His explanation is three times more interesting than the stupid learning by rote we’ve been doing so far.”

“Learning by repetition has a long history of being the most effective way of learning something,” Lan Qiren objected. “Even the most unrepentant scoundrel would learn the rules by heart if he had to copy them down for a month, and then when that was done and the foundation built, you could get started on explaining the why of them.”

“But repetition’s not as interesting,” Cangse Sanren said. “I really liked that story about Lan Yi.”

Lan Qiren looked at her suspiciously. He’d never outgrown his tendency to speak in a dull monotone – one of his peers had once compared it to the thudding of grinding stones in a mill – and it was the rare person who actually appreciated the rules the way he did. His teachers, of course, and some of the other more studious disciples did, but even with them he’d be hard pressed to say they actually liked his rambling.

She held up her hands. “Really! I feel like I understand why she put the rule in place now, whereas before it felt like I was just learning the rule for the sake of learning the rule.”

“That’s because you need to learn the rules before you learn the background,” he said. “The rules are a house built without nails, each piece in its place doing its part to maintain the whole - one rule backs another, while being supported in turn. Only once you know what the rules are can you move to understanding the reasons behind them.”

And from understanding to accepting, allowing our ancestors’ wisdom to act as a guiding light that clears the fog from your path, he wanted to say, because he loved the rules, truly and sincerely.

People made fun of him sometimes, thinking him boring or stuffy or overly strict, with no flexibility and too little empathy, saying he was obsessed with the rules for no beneficial purpose, but to him the rules were a gift from the past to the future. The Wall of Discipline represented the accumulated life experience of dozens if not hundreds of Lan sect disciples before him, turned through debate and contemplation into advice they thought would be able to help guide those that came after them to living a good, clean, happy life. As their descendant, how could he fail to honor that which those people, who had loved him without knowing him, had strained themselves to give him?

In just the same way, it was his duty to love the future generations that had yet to be born, to act as the bridge to that unknown future, entrusted by his ancestors to carry to them the rules that would be both his inheritance and his legacy. Those nameless faces dressed in Lan white, unborn children with his brother’s face or even his own, of his cousins and fellow disciples alike, all those souls that had yet to enter this world but who he loved so much already – if he could spare them a single iota of pain through his own experience, how could he not do so, and gladly? How could he not do everything he could to give them everything he had received from the rules, that sense of pride of their history, the strength and wisdom that could be passed down no other way? How could that be a burden?

Lan Qiren had never really had the chance to explain any of that to anyone, his tongue too stiff and clumsy to convey what sometimes he felt could only be expressed in song or poetry, and he did not have such a chance now: as usual, the other disciples were already laughing, dismissing him as a teacher’s pet, overly rule-bound, obsessed with homework and test-taking, a boring old fart whose soul was prematurely aged.

“What’s wrong with being old?” Cangse Sanren asked, her voice flatter than it was before, and the boys in front of her suddenly scrambled to start apologizing so fast that Lan Qiren was left wondering what exactly he’d missed.

“Class is starting soon,” he said instead of asking, though he promised himself he’d ask around later. Surely someone would know. “Everyone should take your seat – no, Cangse Sanren, as I’ve said, that one is mine.”

She grinned unrepentantly at him and stepped back over where he’d kicked his foot out to block her. “You win, this time,” she said, and took the seat next to him with absolutely no remorse for whoever might have been sitting there before. “Watch yourself, stick-in-the-mud.”

Lan Qiren glared, though somehow Cangse Sanren’s teasing didn’t feel as annoying as the other disciples’ usually did. Even if she did make several more attempts on his seat over the course of the day, causing him to have to fend her off or think ahead to evade her latest attempt.

He initially thought that she might try to come to class early the next day to try to claim it before he did, but instead she dragged herself in only moments before class was due to start, face haggard as if waking up at the very tail end of mao hour was the equivalent to rising at yin, although she was back to her regular form soon enough, bright and clever enough to make any teacher fond of her.

This became something of a pattern, in fact – sluggish wakening, intellectual jousting during class and an unspoken competition over the seat that had formerly been reserved for him outside of it. In the afternoons she usually went off with the more martially minded disciples, while he spent his time in the library or musical halls, though at some point she started dropping off random foodstuffs by his door in the early evening as if she thought he was too thin.

“Maybe she has a crush on you!” Lan Yueheng said enthusiastically; bizarrely enough, he seemed to like romance as much as his explosions or his math.

“I think it’s a little closer to treating me like a stray cat that she found and took a shine to,” Lan Qiren said, shaking his head. All the boys in the sect would have paid in gold and jewels for Cangse Sanren to give them a second look, and she didn’t care one whit for the best of them; there was no need for her to go courting when she could get three serious offers of marriage just by winking. “Give them here, I’ll redistribute them to the younger children.”

“You can’t do that!” Lan Yueheng looked offended. “It’s her sincere offering! From the heart!”

“It’s food she purchased in town,” Lan Qiren said doubtfully. “It’s not as if she baked them herself. Anyway, I can’t eat this many sweets without getting a stomachache. What else am I supposed to do with it? Let it rot?”

“Qiren-xiong, you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing,” Lan Qiren said, not taking offense. “Do you want some? Last offer before they’re gone.”

“…well, I mean, if you’re going to give them away anyway…”

He told Cangse Sanren what he was doing the next day, as a matter of politeness in the event that she wanted to stop once she knew what he was doing, and she just laughed – she always laughed at just about everything, he’d found. She didn’t stop delivering food, either, which he might have expected, though she did shift over into items that were easier to distribute.

Their entire mode of interacting was simultaneously very annoying and also not, and Lan Qiren didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do with it.

And then he got his first letter from Wen Ruohan.

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls #sect leader lan

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