Tumgik
#there’s always a troublesome year and people will judge you if you are born in that year
ifindus · 6 months
Text
Late nights thoughts, but I need to know!
In other countries, when you ask someone for their age, is it common for them to reply with or add right after, the year they were born in?
For example: «oh, I’m 99 (nini/ninenine)» or «yes I’m a 00 (nullnull/zerozero), so 22/23 years old» or «I’m 34. 89-model (åttinimodell/eightynine-model)»
I need to know of other countires do this. Or if Norwegians disagree with me and I’m just imagining it 😅😅😅
39 notes · View notes
dennou-translations · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Violet Evergarden Booklet 1
Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’・*
Index || Next →
That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case.
   Ann Magnolia and Her Nineteenth Birthday
   There was a number of things I had to do on the special day called today.
I would wake up in the morning and check the weather. As if a tale were beginning, I would turn the curtains over and look outside the window.
The radiant daylight shone on my eyes. Today was sunny. Knowing that made me happy. That I had woken up enveloped in sunshine. That I didn’t have to worry about my letter getting drenched in rain. It was almost as if the truth of these facts was blessing the day.
——I’m happy.
Very happy.
I didn’t usually say this, but I felt like saying it today, so I whispered as I laid back down, “Good morning.”
Husky with wake, my voice echoed through the quiet bedroom. I wandered around in search for someone to have a conversation with from the words “good morning”. However, I couldn’t find anyone to hear them, so they pointlessly vanished somewhere.
If you were just by yourself, words would die as soon as they were born. I knew that as the truth of this world. Like flowers that withered without changing colors, like small birds that couldn’t endure the coldness of midwinter, my words would promptly die. After all, words were tools for people to communicate their intentions. So if there was no other party, they would all but die. That was evident.
There was no one who would reply to me with a “good morning”. There was no one in this house that would do a morning greeting, so if anyone were to say that this much was obvious, it sure was. But in my memories, someone whose voice I had already forgotten would return my words. In a warm and soft voice that was probably how my mother sounded, they would be returned to me.
“Good morning, Ann.”
——Good morning.
“Today is a special day, huh.”
——I know; I’d been counting them with my fingers.
“Your long-awaited birthday.”
With a nod, I stood up.
Today, I was turning nineteen. Twelve years had passed since I had been left all by myself when I was seven years old. I reflected thoroughly upon that reality alone and proudly.
I left my bedroom still wearing a negligee, heading to the spiral staircase. There were portraits hanging in rows from the staircase’s wall.
“My, you’re going outside dressed like this just because you’re at home?”
Decorated with pictures of family members, the wall used to be terrifying for me when I was a child, but it became less so after my mother was added to them. I would go up and down those stairs countless times every day, but the only spot that I would end up directing my gaze to for a few seconds was the portrait of my mother and my childhood self.
If, by any chance, there was strength to the thing called “love”, I thought, if there was a force residing within love, wouldn’t this image start moving one day, since it was the only one I looked at as if I were yearning for something?
I would end up embracing such fantasies.
“I won’t change, no matter how much you stare at me. By the way, doesn’t my complexion look a little bad in this portrait? I should have had more paint put over it.”
Of course, it was just a fabrication.
Having come down the stairs, I went to the front entrance, its door a little worn-out. I should call a repairer. The house was a living being just like me, and since it was already quite old, it was always broken somewhere.
“I also want you to tend to the garden. When was the last time you held a broom?”
As I came outside, I could see this place’s whole scenery. There was nothing but lush grassland and tree-lined roads. The idyllic sight was awfully boring, but above that, it was beautiful, so if you made a frame with your fingers, you would immediately have a scenic picture. In this entire area, there were no other houses in sight. Of course. This territory was under the control of the Magnolias, hence this view belonged to me, the family head.
As long as I didn’t sell or give it away, this landscape would never change. And, same as the previous family heads, I didn’t wish for it to change. Neither did I wish to leave this place. Even if I was all by myself.
“Ann, let’s take a look inside the mailbox.”
I took a look inside the mailbox. Perhaps because it was still early in the morning, there was nothing in it yet.
“It’ll surely be coming soon.”
Today was the day when I, Ann Magnolia, was born. Every year on my birthday, I would get letters from my late mother. Letters from my mother, who by now had become a portrait, would be delivered to me.
“There is no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”
To be precise, letters with my mother’s feelings blown into them and ghostwritten by an Auto-Memories Doll would be delivered to me. It was a strange story, but a true one.
“Auto-Memories Doll”. Long had passed ever since this name caused a stir.
The creator was an authority in the field of mechanical dolls, Professor Orlando. His wife, Molly, was a novelist, and all had begun with the posterior loss of her eyesight. He then invented a machine to perform ghostwriting for his beloved wife and named it Auto-Memories Doll. Nowadays, people who worked as ghostwriters were also called Auto-Memories Dolls.
When I was seven, my mother, who was plagued with a serious illness, summoned a beautiful blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll to our manor. She made her write several letters and hired a postal company to deliver them to me even after her death. She had been secretly planning out a few decades worth of birthday messages for her beloved daughter.
The person who had made this request was an oddball, but the ones who had accepted the job were quite odd themselves. Had they not imagined that someone would abandon it at some point? Had they sealed the contract for such a heavy, troublesome work without any refusal because they were horribly bad at their business, or was it because they were too nice? Having grown into a creditable lady and come to understand the world to a certain extent, I would ponder about such things. Surely, it was because they were nice. Thanks to them, even though I didn’t have a single relative now, at least on my birthday I could recall what being loved by someone felt like.
Just like that, I stood fidgety in front of the mailbox. Closing my eyes, I cleared off the dust on the box of my memories.
——I remember. That she had come around. That she would be over there, quietly writing letters. I remember the figure of that person and of my smiling mother. Surely, until I died...
That few-days’ time had been seared into my mind. Back then, my... Back then, Ann Magnolia’s frizzy hair was still short, and she was selfish and pretended to be taller. She was a helpless child. A very young one. How old she was? Seven years old. An age where one would still long for their mother. Her mother was the center of the world. If her mother died, she wouldn’t even be able to breathe. She was that kind of child. She was aware that her emotions were unstable and that she tended to act a little rashly.
Most people would treat someone like me nicely, and that was it. People who had their eyes on my fortune attempted to get close to me, but once they noticed that I had no intention to let them do so, they never showed their faces to me again.
That person—that person... Violet Evergarden. That Auto-Memories Doll was a bit different from other people, I thought...
Whenever I wondered what was so different about her, I would find myself thinking.
Back then, Ann Magnolia had fallen in love with a mysterious girl who had come around all of a sudden. It was a little girl’s romantic love out of adoration. She both hated and liked the Auto-Memories Doll who had come around out of the blue and stolen her time with her mother.
——What was it that I liked about her?
She was a taciturn and unsociable. A silent porcelain doll. She seemed extremely adult-like. But looking back, she often reacted like a child who knew nothing. Even when I gave her dolls, she didn’t know how to play. Neither did she have any knowledge of how to solve riddles. Even when I made her touch bugs, she never ran away like my mother or our maid. Whenever I invited her to join hands and spin around, we would do it to no end.
“Fufu...”
She was a weird person. Yes, a weird one.
Children would look at adults and measure them by whether they were scary or foolish, would be their allies or enemies, would give them candy or not, and other such things. They would stare very, very fixatedly and judge the grown-ups.
She... that beautiful Auto-Memories Doll... Violet Evergarden was not an adult.
——Yes, she was... how should I put it? She was Violet Evergarden.
Which was why I had snuggled up to her, the same type of person as myself, just like two cats nestling close to each other, I thought.
She was a beautiful child. A beautiful beast. I found her eccentric self to be cool, so I liked her.
Where was she now and what was she doing, I wondered.
I was turning nineteen, but back in the day, she must have been younger than I am now. For her to have prosthetic arms, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened to her at the time, when the war had just ended. But surely, there was no doubt that her life had been full of many more ups and downs than the story I had in mind.
Did she not express her emotions enough because she was carrying some sort of wound in her heart? She was such a beautiful person, so she must have won over the heart of some wonderful person by now...
I shook my head left and right. I mustn’t have unjust suspicions of her. I shouldn’t prod into how I was back then – into the Ann Magnolia of back then – and taint it. Even if it was just me with myself, I mustn’t do that. Because all of the joys and sorrows from that time belonged to the old me, who had endured those days. Having become an adult, I shouldn’t have any say over the mental landscape of my old self, as a third party.
Having grown up, I observed my own land, which spread out endlessly. The scent of gently swaying grass and flowers, the chattering of birds, the clouds that moved slowly in the blue sky. It felt like they would be here just like that for a hundred more years.
“It’s not coming, huh. Let’s go eat breakfast.”
Since the postman wasn’t showing up, I had no choice but go back into the manor.
I had been working at home lately. I used to go outside and enjoy the world when I was a student, but I realized that, in the end, I liked being in my house. Maybe this was a Magnolia bloodline thing.
As for my from-home job, I worked with legal counseling. When I was little, I had experienced disputes amongst my own relatives over me and my assets. That was the reason why, if I had to give any.
My mother had left me with a talented legal advisor. A person of outstanding character, who still concerned himself with me even now. As a young child, I excelled at catching insects that I had never seen before, but I didn’t have the means to oppose to the people who wanted to steal this land from me one way or another.
I had started off working at the city’s legal information center, introduced to me by the legal advisor, who had taken me in, and only recently had I become independent. Living in the city had made me realize many things. That there were many people in this world who weren’t protected like me. And that this wasn’t something those people themselves wanted, but things had turned out in such a way due to the environment they were in.
The ascension of the ghostwriting business had a similar background. Children would be made to work like adults, unable to go to school, so when they grew up and had to sign any documents, they couldn’t even write their own names.
People like that, who had been raised in environments where no one helped them, weren’t a rarity. I had heard that the literacy rate was currently rising, but it would still take a long time for this to become something unusual.
Just like with ghostwriting, one could become somebody’s ally through the law. It was especially necessary for children who had been thrown out like me and younglings who were about to enter the world of adults, I believed. Because they could earn completely different futures as a result if they acquired knowledge.
“The law is a weapon,” my legal advisor would say. I agreed with that. My property had been protected by this weapon many times. Some people would say that education was the weapon, but the situations for putting it to use were too limited. Weapons exerted their true value exactly when you had to protect yourself from falling victim to unjust acts or insults.
If possible, I wanted to be someone who could protect others. I wanted to tell people who didn’t know what to do and had become incapable of even walking on their own, “It’s all right; I’ll be your ally”. Because I wanted someone to do that for me back when I was alone.
My reason for choosing law was rooted in this kind of self-righteous way of thinking.
Since I worked from home, I didn’t earn much. To be honest, people would think that being a professional was a pastime for a landowning wealthy lady. I was fine with that.
The people who came to visit me in this remote place were generally in critical situations and had nothing. Those who had something would go to the city. They would go to the city, bow their heads to some famous person, be served a fine brand of tea... and have a graceful conversation while drinking it.
If I could, I wanted to get close to people, just like her. Just like the Auto-Memories Doll who had told me on that day that it was okay to cry. Even if for self-satisfaction.
Speaking of which, I thought as I checked the calendar. Today was my birthday, so I intended to wait for the postman the whole day and hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but a client was coming tomorrow. I should clean up the reception room at least a little.
“Hey, Ann. It is your birthday, so how about going outside with your friends and having a meal with them?”
I had to sweep the floor, take the garbage off the carpet and dust the dirt on the furniture.
“Even just eating something tasty is enough, Ann.”
Right, I should bake some sweets to serve to the costumer tomorrow. It could also be used as celebration for my birthday.
“Ann, aren’t you lonely all by yourself?”
If I was certain, that person had eaten the sweets I baked when we first met with relish. He had a sweet tooth.
As I recalled the figure of that young entrepreneur eating, looking embarrassed and delighted, a smile surfaced naturally. Out of the people that I was currently engaging with, he might be the one whose visit I looked forward to the most. I did think that men were frowny and sullen creatures, but he was adorable.
I rolled up my sleeves with an “all right” and headed to the kitchen.
   “Delivery.”
As the front door’s bell rang and the voice of a visitor ensued, I frantically flung away my bowl and whisk and ran. This is what happens when you distractedly make sweets for about an hour. I was covered in flour and looking unbecoming, but there was no helping it.
“Yes, I’m coming.”
I opened the door in high spirits, and standing there was a postman wearing the uniform of the city’s post office, which I was familiar with. I was disappointed enough that even I myself would think it was a bit childish of me. The other didn’t see my facial expression as he requested my signature for the express delivery without looking at me, but I wound up having an impolite attitude.
——It wasn’t the CH Postal Company.
My mother’s birthday messages were being kept by the CH Postal Company, a mail company that had its main office located in Leiden – the capital of Leidenschaftlich, a southernmost military nation. Therefore, if a different company had come, then the mail wasn’t from my mother.
“Thank you very much.”
I had received three packages. One was a table clock from my legal advisor. The others were accessories and a shawl that were trending in the city from my friends.
There were people getting married and having children upon turning nineteen. All of my closest friends had been quick to marry. Both my opinion that secluding themselves in their homes was a waste in this era of professional women and my envy at the fact that they had found themselves a partner in an early stage of their lives coexisted in the depths of my mind.
“You don’t have to hurry; if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”
Having lost my mother, with this vast land and this manor of excessively elegant exterior in my possession... I couldn’t think that having a family wouldn’t be a good thing.
——Family... family... family, huh?
Did I want a family? Did I really? Those genuine questions surfaced in my mind first-thing.
Welcoming a family would mean welcoming that person’s life. It was an extremely heavy choice. “In health and sickness,” people would lightheartedly say. I believed there were actually few people who properly understood it.
My friends who had married. The people who walked around the city. Lovers and family members from all over the world – everyone. Did they all truly understand? They only looked on the happy side, so could they endure it when a sad scenario arrived upon them? Wouldn’t they end up thinking that not loving the other person would have been better?
“Human beings are creatures that love others in pursuit of happiness, Ann.”
In my experience, since I had seen off the person who was most important to me, the truth was that I didn’t want to go through it ever again. Being told to do it one more time was too hard. Even twenty years later, painful things would be painful.
I brought my consciousness back to reality.
Colorful ribbons, extravagant wrappings and wonderful gifts. As my social disposition was coming to a slight halt, those people were irreplaceable to me. I had to write thank-you notes right away. For these kinds of things, the faster, the better. Because it conveyed sincerity.
I should go back to my bedroom and look for the stationery and envelopes. They were surely somewhere there.
“Ann.”
——Aah, but was it a pretty stationery?
Maybe I should choose a different one, fitting of these wonderful presents.
“Ann, listen.”
They were surely items that took a while to be picked, so I should respond to the other party’s feelings the same way. There were many things to be watchful of here. I had to do it quick. I had to do it soon.
“Please listen.”
Nobody else was going to do it; I was the one who had to. No matter what, I had to do it. I had to taste joy and sadness all by myself and end it fast. Because I was alone. Hurry. I had to hurry and do it.
Nevertheless, I couldn’t move.
“Ann.”
I was in the middle of making sweets, and writing thank-you notes required some preparation. Above all, I couldn’t calm down until my mother’s letter arrived.
Giving several reasons, I made up several excuses not to move.
“Ann... it’s okay.”
I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything became a bother. Even though hands were covered in flour and I was still wearing an apron, I lay on the couch, rolled into fetal position and scrunched down.
Although I had received such marvelous gifts, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. Even though it was something to be grateful for to the point I could be in a good mood the whole day, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. It didn’t last.
“Ann, it’s okay.”
Today was that kind of day.
“Ann, don’t force yourself; I’m sorry.”
——I’m sorry.
“Sorry...”
——I’m sorry.
“Ann, I’m sorry...”
To me, my birthday was...
“...for leaving you behind when you were so small.”
...not my day. It was my mother’s.
——Mom. Why? Just why? Why, Mom? Why did you die sooner than the mothers of the other kids? What is it that went wrong? Did the fact that I was born itself become a burden to you? If so, then I shouldn’t have been born.
I loved you, Mom. Did you know that? I liked you a whole, whole lot. Tired of hearing this? But you didn’t know it, right? Even if you knew, you probably didn’t understand how much I liked you. I’m sure you had no idea how much.
When I realized it, I had more time seeing you in a grave than otherwise. But you’re everywhere in our house. On the sofa that you often sat on. In the music that you enjoyed. On the bed that still smells like you. In myself, who resembles you more and more with each day.
Mom, Mom, Mom – you keep reminding me of how much I loved you. When I was little, you were the world itself.
Mom. You loved me. I know that. But I loved you too. I was the one who... I was... I was... I was the one who...
Aah, Mom. Mom, there are so many things I want to tell you. But if I can say it, there’s just one thing.
Mom, you died without knowing how much I loved you, right?
I loved you much more than you could’ve imagined. I really, really suffered when you died. Enough that I couldn’t breathe.
People often say that time heals all wounds. But I really hate that saying. Rather than things being solved, we forget about them, don’t we? People’s voices, facial expressions, gestures – we forget these kinds of things. Yet I remember them in unexpected times. Like, “Oh, yeah, Mom used to like this”. “Oh, yeah, Mom used to hate that”. And then I blame myself vehemently for forgetting them. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your whole world”. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your only family”. The loop of agony has no end.
I adored you, Mom. I loved you. I loved you, so for just as much love as I had for you, it feels like my heart will break. It feels like my heart will break every time my birthday comes around. Feels like it will break. It’s painful and there’s no helping it.
Tears slip down my cheeks as I laid on my side. I was looking forward to today so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and yet I wound up crying again this year. I would’ve been great if I could welcome it with a smile.
A birthday was a special day.
It was nothing to the rest of the world, just an ordinary day, but it was a special one for me. Because... Because it was a day when I could feel Mom coming back to me. I looked forward to it so much that I couldn’t help myself, but at the same time, I was also helplessly sad. Because I felt my mother’s absence more than anything. Because the truth that she wasn’t here was thrust onto me.
Destiny spoke to me. Either that or God did. “Hey, your mother’s already dead. How long you gonna be crying? Stand up. If you’re alive, stand up.”
Since the world was so merciless, all I could do was nod at those words and say, “Yes, yes, true.”
By entrusting my body to hecticness, I was able to remain as someone who could stand on her own feet, just like Destiny and God wanted. I normally didn’t feel loneliness. I didn’t cry. After all, twelve years had already passed. It was weird to cry like this on and on forever. It was weird, right? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t cry too much. That would make me a bad girl. A girl wasn’t suitable to be the family head of the Magnolia household. I had to become a person who my mother could be proud of from within that portrait.
Wasn’t that right? I couldn’t prove the worth of my existence by doing anything else.
But on this day when I was aware that my mother loved me, I was no good. No good. I’d turn into a mess. The seven-year-old Ann Magnolia would come back to me. She’d say it all. She’d end up saying it. Always, always, always. She’d say what I was holding back from saying.
“I’m lonely”, that is.
I had as many ways of spending my birthday as I had birthdays. Surely, there were millions of people in the world whose birthday was today. How were all of them spending it? Were they spending it in a fulfilling way? There definitely were also people who lived their lives either not knowing when their birthday was or forgetting about it.
So I wasn’t miserable. Nor was I comparing myself with them. That wasn’t it. Because there were certainly people somewhere around the world who were feeling as lonely as me.
There was another thing that I had learned during the time I worked in the city. That loneliness wasn’t something only I had. Many people would come to the law firm and ask for advice regarding their troubles. Everyone was burdened with problems of their own. And everyone was a bit lonely in some aspect. It wasn’t just me, so I didn’t feel lonely.
That person too, and that one, and that other one. Everybody was sad in one way or another.
“I have to get up.”
I had stopped doing what I would do by accident – stopped throwing myself into a sea of sadness. The sea of sadness in my head was a real nuisance, yet it was also comfortable as it enveloped my body in gentle waves of self-pity. But I shouldn’t go too far. Or else I wouldn’t be able to stand up again. It wasn’t like food and sweets would materialize from my sadness.
I counted the things I had to do. Bake sweets. Clean up. I had a number of torn aprons, which I would remake into rags. And then... And then...
“Madam Magnolia, are you home?”
A real-life happening immediately pulled me out of my reverie. I ran toward the front door, from where the voice had come. As I opened the door with much vigor while making extremely improper heavy-feet noises, I found two visitors.
“Hum?”
One of them was... Aah, I was waiting for you. It was a postman wearing the CH Postal Company uniform. He was holding under his arm a letter and a package with what was most likely the gift that my mother had arranged for today.
“Aah, excuse me. Please go first.”
The other was the customer who had made an appointment reservation for tomorrow. A stray young entrepreneur. His finely tailored clothes were easy to recognize as something not order-made and that he didn’t like but was wearing regardless.
Had he mistaken the appointment day?
“Erm, then...”
The two had bumped onto each other at the front gate and both had some business with me, so they were probably conceding the turn to one another. Having been granted it, the CH Postal Company’s postman stood before me, politely giving me the letter and present with a slightly tensed-up countenance.
“This is the CH Postal Company. I have come to bring your delivery... You might be already tired of hearing this vocal message so many times, but happy birthday this year too, Madam Magnolia.”
That was a postman I had never seen before. It was a different person from last year.
“T-Tired, you say... There’s no way I would ever be.”
Still, the fact he was saying these lines meant that the demands commissioned by my mother were being properly kept and protected by that company. That was it.
“Thank you very much. For every year, truly... truly. Please tell this to your chairman too.”
“Y-Yes! Our president is the kind of person that gets very happy at inputs from the clients, so I’ll make sure to tell him!”
I had never met the president of the CH Postal Company, but for someone so young to be talking about him in such a familiar-sounding way, he had to be a wonderful person.
“I’m taking it.”
I signed the acceptance document. The postman laughed as if relieved. Also relieved, I finally looked seriously at him. He was a very young postman. Perhaps from about the same generation as me. The freckled boy looked even younger when laughing.
“I became in charge of it this year. It’s a big area, so I ended up getting a bit lost... I made you wait a lot, didn’t I?”
“Eh, no, no.”
“But you came running as if you were eagerly waiting for it.”
“Yes.”
Recalling the surprised faces of the two young men the moment I had opened the door, I trembled with shame. I was supposed to behave elegant and beautifully as the head of the Magnolia family. Yet I was covered in flour, my hair was disheveled because I had been lying down and I had showed up with footsteps that sounded like the ones of a large man.
Touching my cheeks, which were most likely growing red, I said, “I apologize for showing you an embarrassing sight... No matter what, I always wind up restless on this day.”
“Absolutely not. I’m the one who is sorry for coming late. I have already perfectly memorized the way, so please treat me well next year too.” The postman bowed with a “well, then” and ran toward a parked motorcycle.
After seeing him off, I directed my gaze at the other visitor that had been waiting for me. He, too, slowly looked my way.
“Hello.”
The morning sunshine had disappeared, a dazzling midday light filling up for it. It seemed that quite some time had passed while I was sulking on the couch. With a season of fresh green colors as the background, he was supposed to be a foreign body for me... and for this world of mine, yet he blended appallingly well into it.
“Hello.” My voice sounded a little shrill. “Isn’t there any flour on my face?” As I said this while rubbing my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, he took a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me.
Not minding me as I stiffened up in shock, he said with an earnest attitude, “There is, right here.”
“Ah, all right.”
“And here too.”
“I’m sorry. I was making sweets...”
Wiping myself with the neatly folded handkerchief, it almost seemed like I had gone back to being a child. It was the second time today that my cheeks were dyed red.
“Well, what is your matter...?”
“Aah, that’s right. I was nearby and... hum, I heard from Mr. Robert, the one who introduced you to me, that it was your birthday today, so... though it’s presumptuous of me, I was thinking about celebrating it...”
Robert was the law advisor who had been protecting me since my childhood. Now that he had mentioned it, I remembered that he was introduced to me by Robert. The budget wasn’t compatible with the case, so it had been passed over to me.
——“Nearby”?
Finding a strange point in a part of his story, I said timidly, “This whole area... is my land... You had business near here?”
Silence.
“You’re also seeing Mr. Robert even though you’re working with me...?”
He raised a hand my way as if to ask me to wait and averted his face, looking embarrassed. Had I said anything bad?
“I take it back.”
“All right.”
“I lied... I wanted, hum, to spend time with you somehow...”
“Haah...”
Perhaps having become unable to look at me in the eyes, he kept his face turned away and continued speaking to the direction of the day after tomorrow, “Mr. Robert is a teatime friend from a café that I already frequented... He introduced you to me as a favor... And I heard from him the other day that today was your birthday. Also, I did not just happen to come nearby. It’s impossible to come here without a car or carriage. I do not have much money, so I ended up walking the way here. But it was no coincidence; I came here because I had an objective.”
As I asked, “What’s the objective”, he turned over the palm that had been telling me to wait and showed it to me. That “it’s you”.
I was perplexed. This kind of thing hadn’t happened in my life very often. When it did, it was usually people aiming for my fortune, so I vaguely wondered if he was the same as them.
“Want to come in? If it’s just drinking tea together, then...”
In any case, as the head of the Magnolia family, I had to entertain the guest. After this thought worked its way to me, an alarm sounded in my head that he might deem this as an invitation. That wasn’t my intention, so what should I do if he believed it was?
——What’s up with me? I don’t know if I’m happy or scared.
Aah, my heartbeats were so loud. My cheeks were so hot it felt like they were burning.
Tumblr media
——Anyway, I have to say something.
“Hum.”
As I hesitated to speak, he shook his head. “Ah, no. I will have to come again tomorrow, so I’m going home. I have already accomplished my objective.”
“Is that so?” I was a tad out of tune. A little – very relieved.
I observed him while he didn’t try to look at me even a bit. His hands were trembling. Even though he gave off an easygoing impression, he was the type of person who couldn’t hide what was inside.
“I really just came here because I wanted to wish you happy birthday. Just before coming, I hesitated a lot on whether to go today or not... I also don’t have... any presents worthy of a lady like you, so I wanted to at least say these words.”
That sentence surprised my already stunned self even more. “At least these words”, he said. Were there any words that could make his goodwill more obvious?
“I’m sorry. I should have at least arranged something for you, right? Really, a broke man like me showing up out of nowhere... I’m sorry...”
“No, I don’t want material things that much... I prefer this feeling of... wanting to celebrate because it’s my birthday... much more...”
The words cut off midway. What happened to me? Right now, pain and joy were squeezing my chest tightly. It was suffocating.
The easily perceivable love of this person in front of me, as well as his kindness, his sincerity and all these other soft and warm things were appearing in the lonely parts of me and causing me to feel dizzy.
“Ann, can you hear me?”
I had to regain my sanity; I would surely be sober again tomorrow. I shouldn’t open my heart so easily now.
“Ann, please, listen.”
Because the world was cruel. Even if I fell in love with him, sad things were bound to happen.
“Okay? If you’re listening...”
It might be a calculated love; he could just be pretending and was actually a horrible person.
No, I had to wonder about that. It was indeed true that he came the way here on foot. After all, his shoes were dirty with mud. There was grass sticking to it as if he gone through an animal trail.
“If you’re listening, grab onto it.”
Aah, Mom. From now on, I would surely keep questioning you over and over during times like these. Asking you questions in my mind. “Mom, is this correct? Is this the right path,” I would ask. Because you were the only one who had given me love without second intentions. So please, give me an answer.
“Believe in yourself, Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.”
I was sure that the vision of my mother had whispered this to me.
I reached out with my hand. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his jacket.
“I’m going to bake sweets now. Today is my birthday, but I don’t have any plans, so if you’d like, why don’t we eat the baked sweets together outside? I don’t need anything. If you’re going to give me something, then I want just a bit of time for us to celebrate my birthday together,” I told him.
“Thanks.” He was not unkind to my wheat flour-covered hand, grasping it while his face went bright red. “That’d be great,” he said three or so times. The phrase “I like sweet foods” was probably said five times.
I... I found it so funny that I laughed.
That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case. But I put in a little effort. I tried making it special on my own. From this point onward, I would definitely keep doing that. I would. I was all alone in this manor. But I was the most special girl in the world to a certain person. It was okay to indulge myself at least on my birthday. I thought this once again reading my mother’s letter later.
Ann, congratulations on your nineteenth birthday. I can’t imagine how you’re doing at nineteen years of age. I really wonder how you’re doing. Are you well? Aren’t you going hungry? I wonder if you became a wonderful lady. Aah, I want to see it. I truly wanted to see it. You have no idea how much I love you, do you? You see, Mom loves the nineteen-year-old you. I’ll love you even as you turn a hundred years old. I can’t tell you face-to-face, so I’m properly writing it here. I love you. No matter what anyone says, I love you. You have the right to be loved. My Ann, be free. My Ann, laugh with joy. My Ann, be happy. My Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.
—From Mom
   “There’s no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”
332 notes · View notes
Note
White female werewolf x female human?
Tumblr media
You remember Rhys Pearson? Well, this is set in the same town, the same universe, etc. His older brother, Nicholas shows up, as a sort of counsellor to help rogue werewolves rehabilitate after being kicked out of their pack.
Some people are born with tornadoes in their lives, but constellations in their eyes. Other people are born with stars at their feet, but their souls are lost at sea. – Nikita Gill
Warning: some mild language and past assault.
The She-Wolf of Water Creak
They spoke of wolves and ghouls, of monsters that lived in men and hide with smiles during the days, revealing themselves to be the beast within when the moon was out and the air was cold. Water Creak thrived with its animals and beasts, and the creatures that lived here bloomed with the existence beneath twilight.
You should’ve known that living in this town was weird, but you had known that there was always something hiding beneath the roses, and secrets laid.
You sighed heavily, sorting Toby the large Great Dane out after his check-up and scan, before putting him into the shelter for the night. You were tired from a full day’s job working at the veterinary practice, your other colleagues had gone home for the day, leaving you to sort out everything and finalize any of the animals that were still staying overnight.
It didn’t take long before you got a text from your closest friend, Nicholas Pearson, the ding from your phone bringing you to look down at your phone for a brief second:
Hey, hope work wasn’t too rough for you. Nick.
You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick reply back to him; ‘Couldn’t be as difficult for you I doubt?’ 
Aside from growing up as the oldest and living with four younger brothers, Nicholas had the toughest job of working as a rehabilitator and counsellor for people who were kicked out of rough homes and families. You could imagine working with delinquent teenagers could be quite a trouble.
Your phone buzzed beside you again, smiling as you shoved it in your pockets, gathering your things as you locked the doors and headed out into the empty parking lot.
You got into your dinky little rust-bucket, the same one you had been driving and had gotten you through Hell and back; Dahlia was quite the charmer and your love.
The engine roared to life and spluttered once and twice, before stilling to a steady rumble, and you headed out through the darkness with the little guidance of the streetlights to help you and the silver flickerings of the moon.
Driving home alone at night was quite troublesome and on the isolated roads were rather unnerving, but you managed to do it every night to get home; where you wretchedly lived quite far out of the small town and closer into the next one.
Your phone buzzed fleetingly once more, and you looked briefly for two seconds down to see that it was ringing. Damn it, if mama could see me now looking to answer my phone, she would kill me.
You briefly looked back up to meet the road, the clear roads seemed normal at first and normal, and you concentrated hard enough to look on both sides of the roads and forest areas, you hadn’t been able to predict that something would come out so soon. 
Sure, deer were unlucky to get hit sometimes, but this thing was faster and larger, and your eyes had just about adjusted into registering whatever it was dart across onto your side of the road, your foot hitting the brake at the last moment, but you weren’t fast enough in avoiding it, and the large thump and creak your head that came from your car was enough to make you spring forward.
Good thing you were wearing a seatbelt, but still. You came to realise that you had hit something, and judging from the knock against your car, it was quite big.
“Oh shit, oh shit, fuuuuck.” You swung your seatbelt off you, phone in hand as you stopped the car where you were, car door pushing open you stepped out, taking in what you had just accidentally hit. You were able to distinguish the large fluffy white pelt of it, the large body was hiding its head, but your mind was spinning.
Had you hit someone’s lovely dog? You would hate to imagine it, but you stepped around to the back of it, trying to look at it carefully. It was way too big to be a common dog, and you were sure of it-
-Your hands were shaking as you took the phone and could only dial the only person you could assume that could help you in this situation.
With the desired phone number in place and ringing, it didn’t take long for the phone to finally be picked up, the person’s deep rich voice bringing you back to reality.
“Yes, hello?”
“Nick, it’s me, erm, ah shit-- where do I begin?” Your voice gave off a shaky and nervous laugh, trying to stop your fingers from accidentally dropping it. “Whoa, what happened - are you okay?” His voice was immediate to show concern and shock for you. 
“Yeah, I’m fine, not sure if this dog I hit is.” 
There was a brief pause from the other end of the line, and you could hear Nicholas heavily breathing down the mic. “You hit a dog?”
“Yes, well no, but it can’t be a dog, it’s too big—it looks like—like a wolf –”
Nicholas slowly and carefully said your name down the phone, his deep voice grave. “Whatever you do, turn back around and take it back with you to the practice, I’ll meet you there.”
“Wait, Nick, I-“ You heard the end of the line cut out, the buzzing of the phone bring your attention to how lonely and daunting it was being out here. Looking back down at the large creature, you could feel the prang in your heart, the desperation in wanting to know it was okay.
“Okay, big guy, I’m gonna get you back, and you’ll be in good shape.” You murmured in reassurance to yourself, putting your phone in your pocket as you bent down to gently try and touch the fur. Its fur was matted and worn as if it had years of neglect and mishandle; the coat knotted and a faded white from mud and grime.
Poor thing has seen the wars. You dreaded, carefully putting your arms around its large torso, your hands quivered when you could feel through the coat and feel the bones; realising that it was malnourished.
The creature gave no noise when you attempting picking them up: having had the experience of having to pick up much bigger dogs onto the table for check-ups, this one must’ve been the same weight as any other normal dog - which put worry into how badly they needed help.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” You comforted once they were in the back seat of your car, making sure to get them warm as they rested their large head on the seat; the muzzle bloodied and soaked, their eyes remained closed as if in a heavy sleep, “I hope though.”
You made your way back to the practice in record time: using the back entrance and double-checking that you were still alone. No sign of Nicholas anywhere which got you pondering. You heaved the injured wolf onto the gurney, laying them flat as you rushed to get everything you needed.
One IV drip, a box of first aid and water later and you had gotten it set up, watching with your fingers twiddling, chewing them in silent contemplation, watching over the poor creature. “Where was Nick when you need him?” He thought aloud, your hand coming to get your phone from the table.
Speak of the devil, and he will appear: you hand stopped when you heard the back door trembling and squeak, someone trying to come in when you clearly remember shutting and locking it when you were inside. You would have to apologise for it, but you wanted to work with no disruptions.
You hurried to the door, opening it to see the large man in front of you, towering in the doorframe. Nick had grown to be the tallest still of his brothers and just as muscular as them, from a little boy who was as scrawny as a chicken. His deep amber eyes staring you down as you hesitated with your words. 
“I can explain.” You began.
“You can explain later, right now you’re lucky I’m not calling an ambulance for you.” His voice was a deep timbre, his large arms coming to circle your shoulders, squeezing them, his tall figure lowering so he was more to your height. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine, Nicky,” Your face breaking out into a smile, puffing out your chest, “Nothing can take me down.” 
“That’s good, you’re hard as nails, stronger than Rhys that’s for a fact.” Nicholas cracked a broad smile, seeming to recollect, before he head rose, eyes alert as if he had sensed something sour in the air. “Is she here?”
“How do you know it’s a female?” You questioned, moving aside as he powered in, seeming to know on instinct where to find her, you trailing behind him when you had entered the small room; the light flickering as you had looked around to familiarise yourself. 
It seemed... odd for Nicholas to know something like that when you hadn’t told him.
“Where is she?” Nick asked, your eyes trailing to where the large wolf had once been lying on the gurney, now nothing was left as if the wolf had disappeared in a puff of smoke; only remaining the IV drip that had been discarded to the floor.
“She was here, I swear.” Your heart dropped at the thought, a wild animal wandering and prowling in the practice, or maybe had even escaped back into the outside world, but you would’ve been certain you would’ve heard something like a window crash open.
“She didn’t get too far, she’s still here,” Again, another odd comment for someone who wasn't there, but Nick scanned the room with the expertise of a detective, his eyes suddenly widening as he called your name, abruptly grabbing you and pulling you to him with inhumane speed. “Get back!”
You knew without Nick there pulling you out the way you would’ve been possibly hurt, but you had expected something to scamper out from the darkness of the small room. Your eyes thought that you had seen bare flesh, muddied and caked, a figure rushing past you on its hind legs.
“Nick!” You hesitated, feeling the larger man pull you away to the wall as he blocked the entrance with his strong frame, your eyes finally landing on what was scampering in the room. 
You took in their bare flesh, a young woman as naked as the day she had been born standing in the room in a defensive stance, back hunched, as panicked and feral as a stray.
The woman snapped and snarled towards him, her dark hair the same colour as the dirt splattered on her pale skin, hazel enlarged eyes taking in any route of another exit.
“Easy,” Nicholas brought her back to look at him, her head snapping back to the man in the entranceway, a hand coming up to hold her attention, his voice relaxed and calm, “Antonia.”
“Fuck off,” the woman hissed, her voice riddled with paranoia. You had seen this behaviour in nervous dogs; dogs that didn’t want to be in an unknown place when they were afraid. It was even more confusing about how Nick knew her. “I don’t need your help.” 
“You do, you’re confused.” Nicholas consoled her gently, slowly removing his jacket from him, his eyes never leaving her. “You’re injured, please don’t do anything that will worsen your health.”
The woman known as ‘Antonia’ seemed to visibly calm down in her spot, her hunched shoulders relaxing, watching with nervous eyes as Nick handed her his jacket. With no hesitation, she snatched it off him, before quickly putting it on to cover herself.
“Good, good, sit down, you’re safe here.” Nicholas motioned, his eyes landing to you in the back corner of the room, your eyes wide like dinner plates. In his amber eyes, you read the one thing that must’ve been on your mind since this entire hassle.
‘I’ll explain everything, I promise.’
-
You handed the barely dressed female a glass of water, gently putting it on the table she sat on, watching her short legs swinging as stared the two of you down. “So, she’s a wolf?” Your voice gradually came back to you when you could finally speak.
“A werewolf, yeah-- our kind has lived in these areas for a few hundred years,” Nicholas explained sparingly, and when you turned to him, you gave him a quizzical look. “Our? Which means-”
“I’m a werewolf.” He confessed, looking over your reactions as you looked back over Antonia. “My job is to rehabilitate rogue wolves who have been rejected by their pack.”
Nicholas looked to you, gauging your reaction through your facial expressions. “Say something at least.”
“What is there to say, really? You turn into a big wolf every full moon when I thought all of that was just scary fairy tales that I read when I was a kid.” You sighed. “Nicky, why did you never tell me?”
“I didn’t want to scare you or you think I was mad.” His voice resounded in his throat, moving his eyes dejected. “You’re my friend, and I didn’t want that to go away.”
“Hey, you’re my friend, and you will always be my friend, no matter if you’re a werewolf or human,” you cracked a smile, chortling to yourself, “maybe the big bad wolf should be your new nickname.”
“Oh please.” Nick was next to laugh over the silence. When you finally looked back over to him, your mind wandered back to the rejected wolf. “What do we do with her?”
“She’ll need somewhere to stay for a while, whilst I find her a new pack or somewhere to live momentarily.” Nick sighed to himself as if already knowing something you didn’t. “Which comes the next thing that you will hate.”
You crossed your eyes over your chest, dreading the question that would be asked for you. “You want me to look after her?”
“Look, it won’t be for long, just until I find her a good place to live, somewhere that will keep her safe and she will be wanted.” He pleaded, “It won’t be for long, I promise, and I’ll make it up to you after.”
Your bottom lip came out in thought, sighing in defeat as you knew you couldn’t say no to him. “You owe me ice cream. Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough, got it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Nicholas grinned, welcoming you into a tight hug. “Thank you--- you make this easier for me.”
-
The door to your small house swung open, your new roommate came bounding in with excited curiosity, sniffing around the new place she would be staying in. You, on the other hand, had heaps of shopping and new clothes you had just bought for Antonia, your arms failing to hold everything up.
“Okay, the bathroom is on the right, you can have the couch, it becomes a sofa bed, Nick said-- hey, don’t touch that!” You threw the bags to the kitchen counter, glaring over at the brunette, “Toni, are you listening?”
Antonia seemed to drop what seemed to be your Alexa with a clunk to the floor, luckily it had been carpet down to lessen the blow, as she trained her eyes on you once more, “What did you call me?” Her hazel eyes were wide with keenness.  
“Ah crap, no I didn’t realise, I’m sorry, it’s only because I don’t know many Antonia’s—and I thought Toni was a cute nickname –”
“– No, don’t worry about it,” The she-wolf gave a small smile to herself, and you could’ve sworn her cheeks had deepened into a flush pink, “I like it.”
Antonia had spent a couple more weeks with you, feeding her seemed to be a nightmare (for a girl her size, she ate twice as much as you, thrice more if a wolf, especially when raiding the bins) and bringing her back to her normal weight – which fortunately didn’t take too long.
Her skin was flush with colour, her deep brown hair became full of life, her eyes did too when you got to open her up little by little, each day being a step to progress and learning more about her. There was little to know about her previous life in a pack, but you were sure that you would accidentally do something to provoke her.
You laid out a blanket in the abyss of your garden, the sparkling golden fairy lights brought the area to feel whimsical and full of wonder; the flush plaid blanket kept your bare legs warm in the cool air, waiting.
The silver moon was once again out, full and brighter as a silver coin; a full moon, and you were waiting patiently.
“I knew I could find you here.” The voice of Toni brought your attention on her as she appeared through the small trail of brushes and flowers slowly, treading barefoot to come to you bare as the day she had been when you first saw her. You had been courteous to not look at her body; the shape she had built although she was still quite lithe.
“Thought I could spare you some time out here.” You threw over your own t-shirt long enough that you slept in it to her, hearing the crumpling of it go over her head as she came to sit down beside you. From this light, her skin glowed beneath the moon, her eyes hauntingly beautiful.
“It’s nice out here.” You breathed in the fresh smell of moss and yellow wood. “Not the same as running barefoot across it, now that’s the best feeling in the world.” Toni stretched out before you like a cat beneath the sun rays, and it made you ponder what it would be like owning the small animal, living together.
“Toni—there is something I wanted to ask you.” Your mouth was dry from the apple cider you had laid out before the two of you; it must’ve gone to my head.
“What is it?” She asked peacefully, turning to look back on you. From her eyes alone, you thought you could’ve melted. “Nick called me today, he told me… he said that he found you a place, a place of your own for a community to live among.” You forced a smile onto your lips, wanting to believe she would be better off without you. “How amazing is that?”
“Oh, yeah, I guess so.” Her voice lingered, and you looked back on her puzzled. “What’s wrong? Is it not what you want?”
“I lived all my life in a pack relying on people when they didn’t want me. A bitch from the Seventh Hell, Rogue She-Wolf-- I was an outsider, never truly belonging with anyone. I’m done living with a pack, done with never feeling wanted when all I wanted was to live alone.” Her words were calm with how she responded, but you knew deep down, they hurt.
“What happened in your old pack, Toni? What did they do?”
Toni gave a chortle, nonchalantly looking to the ground as she picked at the weeds. “My parents thought they could marry me off to the Alpha- a big brute of one who was more of a monster than man. I declined the offer, but it must’ve pissed him off to of been the one rejected, so, he got some of his friends to come to find me, and well...” her hand came to restlessly play with her hair, her words drying, “They weren’t good with me, nor did they stop when I begged for them-- pleaded with them.”
Your immediate response was to circle an arm around her, bringing her close to you as you hugged her close. “You will never be treated like that again, I promise.”
“That’s the thing, wherever I go, to this place or if I go back, they’ll always be someone like them waiting to latch themselves onto me.” A wrack of a sob went through her, and you coddled her how a mother would calm their child.
“I don’t want to go.” Her voice was a mere whisper.
You were quick to ask, too quick to think about it. “What about here? Why not stay here? Unless you have grown bored of me.”
Toni gave a sad laugh, coming close as she raised her head, landing her soft lips against your cheek. You stared down at her, astonished, your cheeks blushing. “You’ve always been so kind to me and I don’t understand why. So many times I have believed you were annoyed with and never once did you send me off.” She said your name in a soft murmur. “Thank you.”
The two of you looked at one another, and never did you realise how close she was to you, her faint breath a gentle kiss against your face, and when you looked down to her lips with a sheepish look, she leant closer into you.
She looked nervously back to you briefly, as if hesitant. “You and Nick aren’t-”
You cottoned on to her words. “Oh God no.” You laughed brightly. “And besides, there’s this half-elf who he sees around that he doesn’t have the balls to ask out. But I always try to get him to - Mmph!”
Antonia had leant close to you with her hand cradling the side of your face, pulling you to her as she pressed her lips to ours, reassured and growing confidence. You brought your hands to go around her waist, feeling her soft skin as you squeezed at her hips.
You pulled away with a gasp, and the knowing smirk from Toni, her bright grin was enough to bring the two of you to start giggling, enclosed by the peaceful nightfall.
You didn’t need to be reminded that she would leave, not in a very long time anyway. And besides, she had you now.
190 notes · View notes
ghostiewriter · 3 years
Text
meet james maybank | character inspection
Tumblr media
This is an insight into James Maybank, a character commonly used within my outer bank fanfictions. He’s portrayed as JJ and Kiara’s firstborn and eldest son. This is just to give you an idea on what he’s like rather than having to explain in each one-shot he shows up in!
Tumblr media
James Maybank is the eldest child and first son to JJ and Kiara, in the little second generation I’ve created. The couple had him when they were twenty-three years old, he was admittedly unplanned. Most of their early 20s were spent travelling and the pregnancy with James did change their plans a little, but they loved him relentless. In fact, it gave JJ an excuse to finally convince Kie to go to a bunch of different theme parks since they had a kid and it was “basically a law” for them to do so. Yet, despite the fact he was an accident, it didn’t make him any less loved. It was nerve-wracking, he was the first venture into parenthood that the couple had ever had but James was also just the perfect little mix of his parents (whether that made the situation better or worse is debatable).
The name James was chosen by JJ, a little nod of respect to his mother (something that will be explained further in a certain one shot). He was the perfect little summer baby, born on 31st July, smack middle of summer. Despite being born at peak summer time, James isn’t the surfer boy you’d expect him to be. He loved the beach, don’t get me wrong. He enjoyed all the memories he had growing up, learning how to surf and building sandcastles with his little siblings but much to JJ’s disappointment, James wasn’t much of a surfing fan.
But where JJ’s love for the ocean lacked in his eldest son, his skill and interest in mechanics did not. Ever since he was a young child, James had the oddest fascinations with cars. Maybe it started from JJ taking him to work on the few days Kie would be on the mainland for her own work or maybe it was because he grew up watching old episodes of Top Gear, but James Maybank became a motorhead. The second he was old enough, he would be at his father’s side, oil and grease on his hands as he learnt everything he could. It started as a hyper-fixation and ended up being a passion. And just like his mother, James has a bit of a ‘do it yourself’ attitude. He is stubborn as hell, so when he was young and his grandparents (mostly Anna Carrera) was openly against his fascination and passion to be a mechanic, well you can guess how much it fuelled him to pursue this career further.
Tumblr media
Like mentioned above, he is a healthy mix of his parents but maybe the combination is more dangerous. Whilst he has the wit and quick-thinking of his mother, the boy has the schemer ways and knack for trouble just like his father has. Again, a dangerous combination. James is a charmer, he has a way with words that just traps people in and make them want to be around him. He is a natural extrovert, a social butterfly if you will. You can throw him in a room with anybody and he would come out of it with new friends, it’s just the way James is. Even as a child, he just seemed to hold a charm over people that could not be explained.
Though, sometimes it can be mistake for arrogance and this is where the trouble slips in. James is a very self-aware person. He knows that he is a good-looking guy, he is quite intelligent and a bit of a natural flirt. But by god does it make his ego unbearable at times. Kiara claims this is something he gets from his father, but James seems to have an issue in letting his mouth run sometimes and it gets him into trouble with others. He is a friendly, flirty guy—you can imagine how many times he might have accidentally spoken to the wrong person and how many times he has realised his charming words won’t get him out of a fight with a very pissed off significant other (James seems to have a habit of flirting with people that are already taken, again not on purpose but more just because he can’t help it). His ego is definitely one of his fatal flaws that will come to bite him in the ass later on.
Despite this, James is one of the most loyal people you can ever have in your life. As a brother, as a friend, as a son. This boy is just the epitome of blind loyalty. Once you are in his life, you are under the protection of James Maybank, I don’t make the rules. The people he cares about mean the world to him, and though he may have a lot of friends, his inner circle is smaller than you would think. These are the people he can let loose around, not worry about reputation or appearance. He can be his usual loveable but goofy self. James thrives on making people smile and laugh, especially those in his inner circle. So although he may be an egotistical bastard at times, he can be quite the sweetheart too.
Tumblr media
There are a lot of relationships to go through so I’ll focus on the main ones in James’s life. The main one being his relationship with his parents. Much to Kiara’s dismay, James is a daddy’s boy. Since he could crawl, he would always be at his father’s side. It was nerve-wracking for JJ considering his fears of fatherhood and walking into the unknown, but he was the best dad you could ever think of. James has a very healthy relationship with his parents, a very open one too. He has grown up in an environment that he knows is a safe place and wouldn’t be judged so there was very little he had to hide from his parents. Plus the fact they were a part of an illegal heist when they were his age does help him get away with quite a lot of stuff. James was a bit of a tester though, considering he was the first child and his parents were only 23 when they had him, but it did mean that everyone was learning together. With his short temper (courtesy of his father), James can get quite heated in argument very quickly which was a pain during his early teen years, but after reaching that eventual maturity, his relationship with his parents was a breeze.
His relationship with each of his siblings is quite different. He probably gets on the easiest with Gabriel, purely because his younger brother is a fairly chilled guy and avoids conflict as much as he can. Gabriel tends to be the first person James would go to whenever he needs to rant or get advise (his younger brother is oddly wise) and he tries to be the same.
Whereas, James’s relationship with the other twin is much more complicated. James and Zack are similar in many ways and that tends to be the problem. Both hot-headed and stubborn, they tend to clash and bicker the most. Deep down, James knows he would do anything for his brother but that doesn’t take away from the fact his youngest brother can be a right pain in his ass at some points.
Now James is an overprotective bastard, this can be seen by anyone. But his overbearing ass is definitely the strongest when it comes to his little sister Elliot. He promptly chooses to ignore the fact she could kick everyone’s ass and plays the part of ‘protective big brother’ as a badge of honour. She learnt quite quickly to just let him play his part, and though it can be irritating at some points, it means he cares so Elliot doesn’t mind too much. James just sees all his younger siblings as his responsibility to keep as happy and protected as he can. He loves his siblings, he would do anything for them just as they would for him.
The second generation of pogues are a big bunch and whilst James is friendly with most of them (maybe going as far as considering them to be his siblings too) his best friend is most definitely Charlotte Routledge. Being the first kids in the group, it was hard for James to not be around Charlie most of his life. She was born a couple of months after he was and a lot of their childhood photos are proof that the two of them were rarely seen without each other. Charlie is like a sister to him, someone he would trust with his life. She probably knows him better than she knows herself, and vice versa. One would very rarely be seen without the other growing up, and they became quite the troublesome duo. However, Charlie is also one of the few people that isn’t afraid to put James in his place. He can be cocky and arrogant and she is happy to knock him down a few notches. She is the slap of reality in his life (something James quite often needs) and after so many years of friendship, she soon learnt to help him avoid trouble by scheming with him rather than trying to stop him. Charlie Routledge is one of the most important people in his life, just like her father was to his own.
Now, the last important relationship I should tell you about is with Clover Martelle. Depending on who you ask, the view of their relationship can be very different. For Clover, James is nothing but an arrogant asshole who always gets what he wants. To James, Clover is the best thing to ever walk this earth. It’s a long story for these two, a long history that goes back all the way to their first day of school together. You could jokingly say that James is his father’s son, falling for a stubborn girl who happily put him in his place and resisted the charming smile he gave everyone else. But that is just what James loves about her. She is beautiful, but James fell for so much more than that. She was strong and kind and stood up for what she believed in. Little James Maybank has been whipped since he was 5 years old. Their story and Clover’s eventual realisation that his feelings are requited is one that will eventually be explored.
Tumblr media
Physically, James is healthy and fit. Except for the fact he had to be kept in hospital for an extra few days after he was born. But in every other aspect, he is generally quite normal and well. The only thing that he does need aid for is his eyesight. Since he was around 4 years old, James has always worn glasses. He wears glasses because he has a “lazy eye” (medically known as amblyopia) which just means one eye is weaker than the other. In James’s case, it is his left eye. Glasses were a bit of a menace for him as a child, he hated it and usually did his best to avoid wearing them. But by the age of 8, he had grown up a bit and accepted his glasses and he has never really had an issue with them since. Growing up with his parents being Potterheads, James distinguishably has worn round glasses like the main protagonist since he had first watched the movies. It helped a lot with his confidence to wear them.
Mentally, James’s health is also quite good. Like mentioned earlier, growing up in an open environment where you were aware that you could talk to your parents and not be judged really did help. He has always been open with his feelings and thoughts, always been given healthy solutions to deal with his issues. The fact that his parents respect his privacy and space and give James the time he needs to open up is also a big help. Like his father, he can sometimes get lost in his own head and use other things to distract him but he will eventually talk to someone about what is bothering him—whether that be his parents, his siblings or his friends. He knows he will always have someone there for him.
Tumblr media
JJ and Kiara had no plans to settle down anytime soon. They were young and adventurous and had the whole world at their feet. It was no surprise to anyone that the second they graduated, they hopped on a plane and visited all the places they only dreamed of going. They would go back and forth between a new place and returning home for a few weeks to visit the other pogues, and have a few dinners with the Carreras to keep Anna happy. It just so happened that during one of their trips back to the island, there was a massive rager at the Boneyard for Halloween. Seeing no harm in this, the couple went and had the time of their lives. Little did they know that one little night would change their lives.
James wasn’t planned or necessarily expected at least for a couple of years. Unlike John B and Sarah who had a wedding pretty soon after they graduated, JJ and Kiara saw no rush in doing so. They had all the time in the world. However, a wrench was thrown into their plans when that positive pregnancy test showed up in their lives. Despite the fear and uncertainty the couple shared on the path of parenthood, they decided to keep the baby and venture forward with this unexpected path. It became one of the best decisions in their lives.
James was the sweetest young boy, a healthy mix of his parents both in attitude and in appearance. He was energetic and bubbly and charming. He loved people and loved making new friends. He was also the catalyst to the large family the young couple would have.
James knows of his parents’ background, where the two of them came from and how they got to the place they are now. In classic JJ fashion, of course his son follows through in the teasing and mocking of the other kooks. To keep Anna happy, they would attend the odd party here or there at the country club and James would do everything in his power to seem like the most charming man and simultaneously the kook parents worst nightmare. James is protective of his family, and knowing how they treated his father, he doesn’t plan on giving them the time of day to get under his skin.
Being the eldest, he also feels as though he holds a responsibility over his siblings to be a role model. Unfortunately, his big mouth can get him into a lot of trouble and usually it’s one of his siblings that will be helping him out of trouble. He’s a prankster, he can’t help it. He always has something up his sleeve, and this just so happens to be the exact thing that gets him on Clover’s bad list the first time they meet.
His relationship—or lack thereof—with Clover Martelle began when young James Maybank decided it would be hilarious to put gum on one of the chairs in the classroom. That chair just so happened to belong to Clover who did not find it very funny and in retaliation humiliated him in front of the class by doing the same back to him. It was the day James Maybank became absolutely whipped for her.
She was the person all the kook bastards thought they were entitled to tell him to stay away from. Even Clover herself made it pretty clear she didn’t want to be near James but that didn’t stop him. And eventually, years of pining and being like a love-sick puppy would finally blossom into a beautiful relationship between the two—but not without its hardships and bumps in the road (but you’ll just have to stay tuned to see how their story plays out!).
Being the oldest means that James is also the first to go through everything, including school. He knew pretty early on that he wanted to be a mechanic, his love for cars and motorcycles and boats proved this passion this further. In fact, by the age of 16, he had managed to build his own motorbike along with the help of his father and it’s his most prized possession and greatest accomplishment to this day.
James is a fairly laid back guy, he doesn’t like to plan too much into the future or dwindle on what is going to happen. He is definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of guy and that perfectly describes his outlook on life. Though his arrogance may be his fatal flaw, it also fuels the confidence that makes James who is and it’s a part of him you will grow to love.
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
scratm · 4 years
Text
hey everyone, it’s lux again ! i don’t have much else to say here except i’m bringing my second babe, ikeda sora here ! feel free to hit me up for plots if you wish !
Tumblr media
( LUX. 26. SHE/HER. EST. ) — hey, do you know [ ikeda sora ]? [ she ] look/s like [ hirai momo ], a [ twenty three ] years old [ escort & law student ] who is known for being [ opinionated ] and [ ambitious ] yet [ stubborn ] and [ impulsive ]. no? well, if you happen to see them around, do let me know !
STATS.
full name: ikeda sora.
nickname/s: n/a.
age: twenty three.
date of birth: february fourteenth, 1997.
zodiac: aquarius.
hometown: tokyo, japan.
occupation: escort & law student.
sexuality: biromantic / bisexual.
family: mother - kimura aiko (former schoolteacher / deceased). father - ikeda shoto. (former japanese ambassador / current politician).
current residence: a modest apartment in gangnam district.
languages: korean (fluent), english (conversational), japanese (fluent).
education: equivalent of diploma, currently studying at seoul national university school of law.
positive traits: opinionated, ambitious, intelligent, brave, & determined.
negative traits: stubborn, impulsive, manipulative, flighty, & noncommittal. 
BIO. tw. death. tw. car accident.
sora was born and raised in tokyo, japan in her early childhood. a modest enough home in one of the family neighborhoods in the city. it had enough rooms for a family of three with a schoolteacher mother and a father involved in politics and government.
her mother was sweet and kind and taught grade school children. the memories that sora has of her are faint but she remembers a quiet and compassionate woman, a woman that sora favored when it came to looks as she became older.
unfortunately on a ride back from school one day, with sora in the backseat, a car collided into their own in an intersection. the driver of the other car speeding through the stoplight and hitting the driver side door. the car spun as a result.
sora doesn’t remember much of it, but her mother was declared dead when paramedics arrived on scene and sora was taken to a local hospital to treat her injuries. a broken leg and some small lacerations on her face from the airbag. sora was around six years old when the car accident happened.
for better or for worse, after mourning the loss of his wife, her father pushed himself farther and farther into his work as a politician. a big part of his work was focused on decreasing car accidents and increasing car safety in the streets of tokyo.
he became a leading political figure in the city and eventually he caught the eye of the prime minister. after years of rising in fame and power and showing his ability to work with people of all kinds, sora’s father was pegged to become an ambassador to south korea.
as a result, they packed up their life in japan when sora was ten years old and moved to seoul, south korea. while her father was able to speak in korean, sora didn’t know a single word in korean and it was very tough for her to move to a new country with a different language and different culture.
if it was for her korean tutor, she would have hardly learned the language at all. because she was the new japanese student, she was picked on by her fellow classmates and it wasn’t until she gained a grip on the korean language that she was treated a bit more normally.
sora’s father was ambassador for quite a few years, throughout a lot of her early tween and teenage years. when she was seventeen, he decided to retire from the position with full intent to move back to japan. he offered for sora to return with them, but since she had spent so many years in seoul and japan reminded her too much of mother’s death, sora elected to stay in korea.
from that moment on, sora lived by herself. staying in the small apartment that her father and herself had lived in. for a few years he paid for her ability to live, but once she enrolled in college and started working part-time jobs, her father stopped paying. 
she studied pre-law and political science in undergrad. but during that time she found that the part-time jobs that she was working at didn’t make enough money. she needed an alternate means of pay to sustain herself and be able to pay for law school.
there wasn’t a doubt that sora was beautiful and she wondered if she could use that to her advantage. after doing research online, she found a few escort agencies looking for new beautiful women wanting to make money.
after a year of escorting, sora has become a bit pickier with her services. the company she works for allows her to be choosier with her clients, escorting men and sometimes women of higher profile and much more money. in secret she has slowly become a prized escort of worth. she’s been seen with more than just one rich businessman at a party or event.
just because she’s an escort, it doesn’t mean that sora has sex with each client. before she is seen with a client, she has a contract of sort with the client and it decides what is allowed with the client.
she only intend to be an escort until she earns her law degree but she doesn’t make it known that she is an escort because she doesn���t want to be kicked out of law school nor does she want to have a reputation before becoming a real lawyer.
PERSONALITY.
very opinionated and ambitious, she wants to be a lawyer and a good one at that, so that takes a lot of a woman and she knows she has to be strong for that to happen.
intelligent and she has to be because she’s in law school and not everyone can make it through that. though it may not look like it, she’s very studious in her off time hen she’s not working.
she’s not much afraid of anything, very brave and willing to do just about anything, like she’s not afraid of roller coasters or heights or anything that some people would be afraid of.
once she sets her mind to something it’s hard to stop her. she calls herself determined while others might say that’s just stubbornness. 
can be a bit impulsive, doesn’t always think everything through which can be troublesome. she keeps it tempered most of the time but the impulsiveness pokes out.
i mean who isn’t a little manipulative and cunning when it comes to becoming a lawyer?? she doesn’t often use it for bad gains or anything like that though.
flighty and noncommittal, she runs from the idea of a relationship. more than once she’s ran from a person who says they love her or if she finds herself catching feelings for someone. she doesn’t think she has time for love especially while in school.
PLOTS.
for any rich muses who might need the services of an escort for events or whatever, gimme one that has called for her services multiple times because they like her. a frequent client.
friends she made while in undergrad
enemies???
close friends who know she’s an escort and don’t judge her for it??
anything really?? hmu !
5 notes · View notes
recurring-polynya · 4 years
Text
a little in love now and then, part 6/? | ao3 | ff.net |
Summary: Abarai  Renji doesn’t have a fortune, but he does appear to be in want of a  wife, at least in Lady Kuchiki’s opinion. Fortunately, Lady Kuchiki also  has a sister, and a woefully eligible one, at that. (itty bitty Hisana  Lived! AU)
Rating: T, for minor cussing
This time: The Cavalry: Renji seeks outside advice.
Older parts: | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 |
Renji pounded his fist against the doorframe. He waited. He pounded again. “KIRA!” he bellowed. “KIRA, IT’S ME, ABARAI! OPEN UP, I NEED YOU!”
Slowly, the door slid open, and the exhausted lieutenant of Squad 3 squinted at Renji with purple-shadowed eyes.
“Kira, how do noble people get married?” Renji demanded.
Izuru stared at him for a moment, taking into account the hour, the fact that Renji was dressed in his New Year’s best, and finally, the question. He rubbed at his hair and blinked, before realization penetrated his haze of sleep-deprivation. “What have you done?” he gasped, horrified.
“You look bad, buddy,” Renji observed, before he suddenly remembered the probable cause of Kira’s condition. “Aw, cripes, Kira, I’m sorry. I forgot about, you know.”
“My captain being sent to the Maggot’s Nest?” Izuru asked dryly.
Renji cringed. “Something crazy happened and I thought o’ you, and I really wasn’t thinkin’ and I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”
Kira rubbed at his face tiredly and tried to blink his eyes into focus. “You cannot just show up here and ask me how to marry a noble person and then leave again.” He managed a small smile. “Besides, if you and your captain hadn’t cracked open Aizen’s conspiracy, who knows how much worse things would be. I probably owe you one anyway.”
Renji hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t do anything, aside from trying and failing to beat up that Kurosaki kid.”
Izuru smashed a fist into Renji’s shoulder. “Whatever, meathead. The fact is, I am so sick of auditing the last forty years of squad records that digging you out of whatever horrifying situation you have enmeshed yourself in will be a delightful distraction. Let’s consider it a mutual favor.” He stepped aside and waved his hand. “Come inside and tell me whose honor you have besmirched. I’ll put on tea.”
“I haven’t besmirched anyone’s honor!” Renji excused, trailing his old school friend into his quarters. “Lady Kuchiki wants me to marry Rukia.”
Izuru almost tripped on his way into the kitchen and had to catch himself on the edge of the counter. “What?”
“Not, like, this minute. I guess she’s taken a liking to me, probably ‘cause her baby likes me, and she’s been trying to find a nice husband for Rukia, which seems like a terrible mistake, and she’s made an even worse mistake insofar as judging my suitability for this, and I’m trying to take advantage of it before she catches on.”
Izuru squinted at him. “She wants you to marry Rukia because she likes you? Not because of your decades of loyal pining and sad puppy dog eyes?”
“She doesn’t even know about that,” Renji nodded incredulously.
Izuru set the kettle on the stove. “So, let me get this straight. Back when we were in school, right after Rukia was adopted, you came up with this incredibly half-baked plan to distinguish yourself in the Gotei, impress Captain Kuchiki, defeat him in battle, and… you always refused to say the last part out loud. What was the goal, anyway? To see Rukia again? To prove to her that the only difference between you and a man born all of the wealth and advantage you can imagine is a little elbow grease? To ask for her hand in marriage?”
“Something like that,” Renji replied vaguely.
“And you’re telling me it worked?”
“I didn’t even have to fight Captain Kuchiki!” Renji exclaimed, waving his arms. “Which is good, because you weren’t there when he fought Aizen, but even with my bankai, I’m pretty sure he can still kick my ass.”
Izuru shook his head. “You are simultaneously the most blessed and cursed idiot I have ever met.”
“I know it,” Renji admitted sincerely.
“Okay, so let’s talk about what actually happened,” Izuru said, pulling out a pair of fine tea cups painted with elegant blue cranes. “Did they extend you an offer?”
“Huh?” Renji echoed. “No, nothin’ like that.”
“She just said, Mr. Abarai, you seem like a sporting fellow, would you like to marry my troublesome sister?”
“Rukia is not troublesome! And it was more like, she invited me over for dinner, and afterwards, Rukia said, ‘Oh, my sister wants to marry me off because I’m troublesome and she’s picked you’.”
“Because you seem like a chump?”
“I am absolutely a chump, but I am pretty sure Lady Kuchiki genuinely likes me.” He scratched his head. “It’s weird that a person exists who would marry Captain Kuchiki and also likes me.”
Izuru nodded thoughtfully. “Indeed. And how does Rukia feel about this?”
Renji made a face. “Well, she’s not a huge fan of it, but she didn’t shut it down, either. She’s willing to consider it.”
“Hmm,” Izuru replied with mild surprise. “And Captain Kuchiki?”
“He… doesn’t hate me,” Renji shrugged. “I’m not sure he knows what his wife is up to.”
“I see,” Izuru nodded, pouring hot water into the cups. “And what about you?”
“Me?” Renji repeated.
“Yes, Abarai, you get an opinion, too, you know.” Izuru studied his own friend carefully for a moment, before saying, “People can change a lot in forty years. You two didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.”
Renji’s face stiffened. “I know.”
Izuru took a cautious sip of tea. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re my friend and I just want to make sure you’re doing something that will make you happy.”
Renji huffed. “Look, I said Rukia wasn’t quite on board yet, and I ain’t interested in marrying anyone who ain’t interested in marrying me.”
“Granted,” Izuru nodded, waiting for him to go on.
Renji stared at his teacup as he spun it in his hands. “I blew it. Back then. I’m not… I can’t…” He let out a frustrated breath. “Of course I want to get to know her again. I’m sure some things have changed. But I can’t screw this up again. If this is my shot, I gotta take it.”
Izuru knew how much it embarrassed Renji to admit things like this. He felt very grateful that, despite the rocks their friendship had hit over the years, Abarai still trusted him this much. He cleared his throat. “Good. I have the landscape of it. You’re interested, Rukia is open. Lady Kuchiki is for it, Captain Kuchiki exists.”
Renji thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah. That sums it up pretty good.”
“So, let’s talk about the mechanics, which is why I suspect you’ve come to me. In general, it is your prerogative, as the guy, to propose. Very noble families, like the Kuchiki, might extend an offer of Rukia’s hand if they were trying to create an alliance or propose a deal with another family. It’s also possible that could happen if someone performed some great service to the family-- they very well could have offered her to that Kurosaki boy that stormed the Seireitei for her, for example.”
Renji’s shoulders went a little stiff, and Izuru realized he had hit a nerve. Maybe not quite a nerve. A soft spot. “He’s not even dead,” Renji pointed out, not sounding very confident that this was an adequate objection.
“Right, and he’s got no status in Soul Society at all, and also, they didn’t,” Izuru reassured him. “My point is, we should expect that the ball is in your court, at this point. There are two halves to this: proposing to Rukia and getting her Clan Head’s approval. Now, if you were rich and powerful enough, and didn’t care about Rukia’s feelings, you could skip her entirely, and go straight to Captain Kuchiki. Rukia would still have to agree, but it would be mostly on her family to get her buy in.”
“I don’t want that,” Renji mumbled.
“Exactly. Plus, you’re broke. You are still broke, right? If you’re not, you owe me 400 kan for your bar tab on Shuuhei’s birthday.”
“You mean when I had to leave early to drag Shuuhei home because he was blasted?”
“It was 600, but I’m giving you the good friend discount.”
Renji made a troubled face. “I am still broke, but I can pay you back.”
Izuru waved a hand. “Forget it, that wasn’t the point. The point is, and I cannot believe I am going to say this, but unless you plan on winning the lottery or passing your captain’s exam in the next few weeks, you are going to need to charm your way into this family. Lady Kuchiki likes you, but I am going to go out on a limb and say that it’s Rukia’s opinion of you that’s ultimately going to sway her, no?”
Renji nodded curtly. “That was my impression.”
“Then all of this is really a lot less complicated than you think. Spend some time with Rukia. See if she’s still the person you remember. Try to stay on Lord and Lady Kuchiki’s good side. Don’t jump the gun. If it’s meant to be, she should be so thrilled by the time you ask, she can help you wrangle the proper approvals from her sister and brother-in-law.”
Renji sighed, and took a long sip of tea. “What kinda odds you think I’ve got?”
Izuru gave a little shrug. “I’m frankly dumbfounded you’ve gotten this far. We are outside of the range of calculable probabilities.”
Renji fidgeted with the sleeve of his haori. “Do you really think… that Rukia might…”
Izuru settled his chin on one hand. “Abarai, in the time that I saw the two of you together, I found you and Rukia to have the most incomprehensible rapport I have ever seen between two people. I found her to be utterly impenetrable and you to be…” He trailed off. “Look, we’re outside of my area of expertise. I hope I was helpful on the nuts and bolts stuff.”
Renji’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah! Yeah, thanks, Kira. You were super helpful. I’ll get outta here now, so you can get some sleep, I’m sorry to--”
“Hey!” Izuru interrupted him. “I didn’t tell you to leave. I just said we were out of my depth. Do you wanna call Momo? I’m pretty sure she hasn’t slept in a month, either.”
“Er…” Renji frowned. “Are you really sure--?”
Izuru was already on the phone. “Hey, Hinamori! How’s the endless cycle of self-recrimination going? Oh, you’re stress-baking again? Perfect. You want to get overly invested in Abarai’s personal life with me? Yeah, come over as soon as they’re done. No, you’re going to have to wait and hear him explain it, you would never believe me if I tried to tell you. Okay, great!” Izuru flipped his phone shut. “Momo’s in. She’ll be here in twenty minutes with dorayaki.” He paused. “You’re not imposing. This is good for us. Let us have this.”
“Ah,” said Renji. “Did you say dorayaki?”
11 notes · View notes
nexstage · 4 years
Text
Starless  Steven: New places, new opportunities (?) AKA Now what?
Obsolete.
According to a dictionary, it is anything not in use anymore, having been replaced by something newer and better or more fashionable.
According to a certain young man who was traveling in his Dondai, because he is close to 18 which is equal to adulthood despite the fact that he is still a kid in the law's eyes which wouldn’t benefit him because the police might stop and ask him for his car license and ID, but anyway, according to a certain young man, it meant that no, there is no one else to help because everyone knows what they're doing.
And by everyone, he meant all the world, universe, etc., except for himself.
And he was happy for them! Don't take him wrong!
Steven couldn't be more proud of how much his friends and family had grown and how far they had come since he had a memory.
Pearl was her own gem, Garnet was happily married, Amethyst loved herself and was really confident, his Dad and Pearl got along pretty well. Many people dear to him were doing such great things, Lars was exploring space with his crew, Little Homeschool was accepting new students, Saddie and Shep were happy with each other, the Cool Kids have found their own calling and they liked it.
So yeah! The future was smiling at them, all shiny and dandy!
And what was left for him?
Just too much time to spare and feeling utterly suffocated with nothing which was weird because nothing couldn't do you anything.
But as always with him, Steven Universe, things tended to be the other way.
His mind was divided into multiple places. Emotional ones. He was enraged and exhausted, for his charming touch to help people was declining too much. He was lost and numb, after the Cactus Incident it was a miracle that leaving Beach City hadn't ended horribly because sometimes his skin turned neon pink, his ears were overwhelmed with a constant buzz and his teeth were gritted with such force that the muscles of his jaw at the end hurt like hell.
There was also the confusion and despair that were worse than physical pain. If everyone knew what they were doing with their lives, what would be of him? What kind of purpose he could have if no one needed him anymore?
Was he going to just stay in the house forever figuring what to do and waste people's time with his problems?
All of them had dreams and aspirations to fulfill. He could even recall Connie telling him which university sounded more appropriate for her. The career and expectations to get there which he didn’t understand that well, but he was happy for Connie to be so excited about it.
And that was the point, wasn't it?
All the people he knew were doing fine he wasn't. They have plans and were confidente about it his plans were just a mess, their hobbies and dreams paid them off he felt totally miserable after trying gardening!
His teeth clutched at his lower lip in a vicious grip while his knuckles went white for holding the steering wheel so strongly.
Again, the sickening neon Pink spread from his cheeks to his whole body.
He tried to calm himself down and stopped himself from thinking about how the other might be doing now that he was gone. They may be freaking out and trying to find him.
Steven scoffed. Well, good luck with that, guys. If I left it was for no one to find me.
His thoughts got more troublesome and conflicting with that mental sentence.
He despised that his mom ran away from her problems, lied to everyone, abandoned the people who cared about her, and made a bigger mess from another big mess.
But this, no no, this wasn't running away.
Everything was fine after all.
Homeworld and Earth were at peace, gems and humans were getting along nicely, the Diamonds had Spinel to pamper and spend their time with, the gempire was dismantled and all the corrupted gems were healed and living better lives.
This was everything and more than what his mom could have done if she hadn't run away and lied, but she didn't make it true.
HE did.
He and the Crystal Gems worked hard and succeed, so all the unresolved issues his mom left behind were just a bad dream from the past.
Everyone was happy, learning new things, making plans for their futures, feeling excited.
No one needed him anymore.
He was just...obsolete.
And the only fate that awaited the antiquated like him was a loft or a trunk.
Though a tiny part of him told him that his family and friends weren't like his mom. They wouldn't throw him away so flippantly as mom did to Spinel, Pearl, and anyone else who bored her out.
But even if that was true, it didn't mean he was going to back down.
Steven had seen how much his loved ones had progressed these years, so they would be fine. And it's not like wasting away and worry them was going to fix anything.
A bitter taste came to his mouth at the mention of that little word, fix.
He grimaced but tried to ignore it.
This was the right thing. This was the BEST OPTION!
His mind repeated those sentences like a mantra to not feel horrible and guilty about doing this, but was there anything else to do?
Steven wasn't going to hold anyone back from their dreams. He almost squashed Lars, the Off-colors, Saddie, Shep, and the Cool Kids because of that.
A change was needed.
THIS was the change.
Besides, it's not that talking with the Gems was going to help anyway.
Pearl would spiral into self-blame, Garnet's advice was too focused on her future vision, Amethyst acted as if her maturity was the solution of all the problems.
And he knew they meant well and loved him, but sometimes it was him the one taking initiative despite how uncomfortable it was.
He could still remember how he had to deal with the Roses Quartzes on his own because the others, even his Dad, didn't want anything to do with more unpleasant reminders of mom. And honestly, he didn’t want to either but he wasn't going to be impolite and cold towards people who suffered because of his mom's mistakes.
Apart from that, it shouldn't be that concerning that he was gone, right?
He was still alive, he was fine, he was just driving and nothing bad had happened yet!
Besides, if everyone was ok without him much before he was born, that would be the same now. They would move on and keep with their futures and lives.
There was no space for the obsolete after all.
His family and friends were upgrading, changing, they had their own places in Beach City or wherever they wanted to be...
Except for him.
But Steven wasn't going to let that ruin the others' journey!
It was time to let the new take the place of the old and keep going.
His eyes, bloodshot from the many hours of driving and with heavy bags on them, stung due to oncoming tears. Steven rid of them quickly before they got out of control.
Dammit, the road was still very long and he had no idea where he would stay for the night. It was mere luck that he had enough money for tons of gas to drive that long.
And for real, since when all those pines appeared?
If there was some kind of signal, anything, to tell him where he was right now, he would really appreciate it.
Then he saw it.
At some meters from him was a big, rusty signboard that said in capital letters: 'WELCOME TO GRAVITY FALLS'.
Gravity Falls? Uh, well, he wasn't going to judge a book for his cover, and hey, he finally knew there was a town near to find a motel, so it wasn't that bad anyway.
Maybe that place might be his new start.
20 notes · View notes
thecursedhellblazer · 4 years
Text
♣ 15 QUESTIONS ABOUT THE MUSE.
① ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE ?
Tumblr media
“Ah, ‘m pretty sure tha’ someone in me fuckin’ bloodline gots a similar name, but ‘ard to tell if t’was done on purpose or nay. ‘S a really common name, innit? Sure as ‘ell I ain’t named after me ol’ man...n’ thank all th’ bloody gods o’ the universe for tha’.”
② WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED ?
“Dunno? ‘S been a while I guess? I ain’t exactly th’ kind o’ bloke who often gets down on ‘is knees n’ cries ‘is sorrows out. I prefer drinking ‘em away. Zee says I should...‘ow did she word it again? Ah, aye. ‘Let meself be a bit more vulnerable’ or shite like tha’. Thanks no thanks. ‘S too troublesome.”
Tumblr media
“Tho, now tha’ I think ‘bout it...Does it count if th’ bloody tears were ‘cause th’ fuckin’ ‘ellish prick I live wit’ sometimes threw some burnin’ shite in me eyes? ‘Ell, imma kill ‘im one o’ these days...”
③ DO YOU HAVE KIDS ?
“Ah...tough question. I was used to spawn a few...uh, t’in’s. Like, Swampy borrowed me to get ‘is wife pregnant. N’ there was all tha’ mess wit’ Rosacarnis n’...lots o’ other shite. Ne’er thought o’ ‘em as me kids tho. Jus’...Spillin’ DNA.”
Tumblr media
A cough. “Tho...There’s Tim. He ain’t exactly me kid, but...He’s family, in a way. N’ Ruby too. But yeh didn’t ‘ear this from me!”
④ DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT ?
“Sarcasm? Me? Dunno wha’ yeh talkin’ ‘bout, mate. Wha’ even ‘s tha’ shite? Ne’er ‘eard o’ it. Can yeh drink it?”
Tumblr media
“...Aye, tha’ was sarcasm. Draw yeh own conclusions.”
⑤ WHAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE ?
“Depends on wha’ ‘m in town for. If ‘m after one o’ me...t’in’s I try to separate ‘umans from not ‘umans. Ain’t tha’ easy all th’ time, tho. Other times, whether said person ‘s ‘ot or not...Or if I can play ‘em n’ win their money. Or get ‘em to buy me a drink. A bloke gots to make it thru ‘is bills, aye?”
Tumblr media
“...Ah, th’ bloody physical feature are th’ eyes. Can read a lot in those. Or body language in general.”
⑥ WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR ?
Tumblr media
“Blue, usually. Got a few mishaps where they changed colour for some time, but...those are stories for ‘nother time.”
⑦ SCARY MOVIE OR HAPPY ENDING ?
Tumblr media
“Fuckin’ oul’ ‘appy endin’. N’ don’t yeh dare to judge me, yeh arsehole, ‘cause yeh ne’er get those in real life, so...Sometimes a change ‘s good, innit? Even if ‘s jus’ bloody fiction.”
“Scary movies are alrite too. Even tho...When yeh live me kind o’ life? They ain’t scary at all. I prefer watchin’ th’ game n’ shite. ‘S a good excuse to get Chas to buy th’ beer for th’ nite.”
⑧ ANY SPECIAL TALENTS ?
“Got lots of those. Yeh know. Magic, connin’, makin’ most people n’ bein’s ‘ate me guts...Tho I think tha’ th’ most relevant one ‘s gettin’ meself in trouble. Fuckin’ rotten luck. Even when I stay put, I can’t ‘ave a bloody week wit’out some sort o’ crisis bein’ dumped o’er me ‘ead.”
Tumblr media
“Can’t I drink a bloody pint in peace, once in a while?! Ah, nay, John, oul’ son, ‘cause fuckin’ Fate says yeh can’t. Screw it!”
⑨ WHERE WERE YOU BORN ?
Tumblr media
“Liverpool, UK. Oul’ coal industries n’ all. Compared to London n’ most American cities, ‘s like a big town. At times I miss it. Not th’ bloody life I ‘ad there tho. Ne’er.”
⑩ WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES ?
“Uh, I gots a few. Most are kind o’ connected to me field o’ expertise, tho. Lots o’ readin’ up n’ researches, ‘cause yeh ne’er know too much or even bloody enough ‘bout magic n’ th’ Arcane n’ all th’ Occult stuff. I like tinkerin’ wit’ me own spells n’ seals n’ all. Gots to ‘ave a few new tricks up me sleeve, yeh know? N’ stick me nose where I shouldn’t.”
Tumblr media
“Aside from tha’...Drinkin’? More like a bloody necessity than a bloody ‘obby tho. Me n’ Chas gots our routine. Games n’ pubs n’ dinners n’ shite. N’ I kinda...cook from time to time? But tha’s outta necessity again. Unless I gots some fuckin’ arsehole at ‘ome whinin’ ‘cause he wants ‘is fuckin’ maticore blood cake. Tha’ alone requires talent.”
“I kind o’ got into yoga too? Thanks to an ol’ friend o’ mine. ‘Elps to clear me ‘ead from time to time. N’ meditation can be good. Not for th’ soul, tha’s already rotten n’ gone, but makes miracle when yeh tryin’ to do some complex Divination.”
⑪ DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS ?
Tumblr media
“I used to ‘ave an undead pet rat called Francis in me younger years, but nowadays...Hell no. ‘S already enough when Tim’s ‘round n’ I gots to deal wit’ ‘is fuckin’ bird. N’ Ruby gots this ugly cat who ‘ates me. Tho, th’ damn thing probably can smell ‘Ell on me, n’ tha’s why he loathes me tha’ much.”
“Also...Chas ‘s been talkin’ me ears off ‘bout ‘ow much he wants a fuckin’ dog or two, so I guess I’ll soon find meself ‘avin’ to worry ‘bout me best mate’s pet too. I refuse to pet-sit or whate’er. Chas knows tha’. N’ like ‘ell he’s gonna talk me into tha’!”
“...Damn. I’ll probably end up doin’ it anyway, aye?”
⑫ WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED ?  
“Sports? Eeeeeh, not me t’i’g. Ne’er been. I gots plenty o’ excitement elsewhere, really. Don’t need tha’ at all.”
Tumblr media
“I got dis...mate o’ mine who’s kind o’ ‘elpin’ me wit’ some...work out routine? Gods, th’ guy ‘s good ‘ealth on two legs. Th’ whole t’i’g kicks me ass e’ery bloody time.”
“...N’, to ‘ell all th’ people who disagree, but I got all the fuckin’ gymnastic I need already.”
⑬ HOW TALL ARE YOU ?
Tumblr media
“Dunno. ‘Aven’t measured in a while. Why th’ fuck does it even ma’er? Average. N’ ‘m fine wit’ it. Less back problems n’ shite, th’ docs say.”
⑭ DREAM JOB ?
Tumblr media
“A fuckin’ vacation from all th’ shite tha’ ‘aunts me. Not good as an answer? Ah, den I guess I’ll say wha’ ‘m doin’. I stuck me nose in magic when I was too young to understand most o’ th’ shite th’ world throws at yeh n’...Tha’s all I e’er wanted to do. An oul’ mate o’ mine once said tha’ I live for it. Like a fuckin’ religion. He was rite. I do fuckin’ live for it. Found me path, even tho it sucks most o’ th’ times. But...‘s mine. Really mine. Wrong in all th’ rite ways tha’ suit me. If yeh get wha’ I mean.”
⑮ FAVORITE SUBJECT AT SCHOOL ?
Tumblr media
“Dunno. I was too busy bein’ kicked outta all th’ fuckin’ schools they sent me at to care. Troublemaker, troubled lad, wohe’er. It ain’t tha’ I dislike learnin’...even if maths always made me ‘ead ache so badly. I jus’ ‘ated th’ system. Still do.”
TAGGED BY: @theprinceof-gothamcity​​ (( thanks!! )) TAGGING: @blindeddevil​​ @thedemonconstantine​​ (idk if I want Timmy, demon John or Chas so YOU pick u.u) @thegreenxrcher​​ @cosmosfated​​ @exanxmo​​ @ceolenaluthor​​ @xnonxnocerex​​ (Ava) - & whoever wants to steal it !
12 notes · View notes
lucentshadow · 3 years
Text
Favourite stories
Or more like stories i still think about even thought it was years since i read/watched them. I made this list to kind of make myself think what i actually like about them. If you have any recommendations based on this list feel free to let me know. Here is just a list, more under the cut. 
Psycho Pass
The Bartimaeus trilogy
Les Miserables
Brave new world
Démon súhlasu
Powers
Books by Jane Austen
Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron
Megamind
Martin Eden
My youth romantic comedy is wrong as I expected
Disclaimer: I just want to point out some stuff i personally liked about these stories. This is by no means a complete assessment of them, i know there’s more in them then i absorbed the last time i watched or read them.
Psycho Pass
Tumblr media
In Japan Sibyl system judges people based on their crime coefficient – the likelyhood of them commiting a crime and being dangerous to other people. Those with high crime coeficient but no criminal history are called latent criminals and they are taken away from society and put into rehabilitation centers, which mostly means they’ll never get back out. Some latent criminals can under strict conditions leave the center and help in police investigation as Enforcers – hunting dogs for Inspectors.
There’s a lot i like about this series. The setting is interesting, the villain has kind of an interesting point, and then there are characters. Characters in this series are in my opinion not examined and developed as they could be, except for a few. That being said, Ginoza Nobuchika is one of my all time favourite characters. As an inspector, he wants to do what‘s right and believes Sibyl is the only right way to do that. So he strictly keeps in line, even tries to despise people closest to him who became enforcers, because if Sibyl is right, then they were in the wrong . Stuff happens of course and whole his character development is wonderful, but i won’t spoil anything more. And then there’s Akane. A role model. I love how Akane can think about crimes without ever affecting her crime coefficient (which is something that sent a few people to the enforfcers camp) and that’s because in the end her ultimate motive is to protect people and the law. 
The Bartimaeus trilogy  by Jonathan Stroud
Tumblr media
The government of Britain consists of magicians – caste of people with knowledge to summon and control demons, who then have to obey them. With their powers, magicians control the rest of the population, keeping them away from education and true source of their power. We follow three main characters – Nathaniel „John Mandrake“, sold by his parents to become a magician and to believe magicians are what keeps the country safe,  working his way up the power ladder to become part of the British government, djinni Bartimaeus, summoned by Nathaniel, and determined to make Nathaniels life as miserable and troublesome as he can while he is forced to obey him, and Kitty Jones, a commoner, determined to tear down magicians rule.
If you ever thought that it was unrealistic how wizards in Harry Potter decided to hide from Muggles instead of taking control over the world, than i present you with Bartimaeus, where privileged caste of magicians controls commoners by power gained by exploitation of demons.
Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
So, i only watched two movies and read about 250 pages from the book, but let me tell you, Jean Valjean is one my favourite characters ever. I love what kind of a person he becomes even after everything he’s been through. I still have to read the whole book, though.
Brave new world by Aldous Huxley
People are born in the factory, they are conditioned to enjoy their life in a prescribed way, to fulfil every pleasure, to eradicate every negative feeling by drugs, and then to die and be recycled. People are conditioned to like the way they will lead their lives. So what is a meaning of life then? Is the meaning of life to find happiness? To be entertained? What if we get that and we are always etertained, we are always happy. What then? And what do we need to sacrifice to get that?
Démon súhlasu („Demon of consensus“ or „Demon of agreement“) by Dominik Tatarka
Written in 1963 in communistic Czechoslovakia, this short story talks about a difference between a public and private consensus and how there is a discord between these two when a person becomes a pawn. I don‘t think there is an english translation of this book, but thanks to the style of the writing I’m afraid about a half of the quality would be lost in translation anyway. But here is my rough translation of a short quote i like:
A pawn is a man, who in the name of his conviction agrees to be promoted to a position, for which he‘s not enough.  A pawn is a role that a man plays, only plays, terribly plays. A pawn is a role, in which a man plays, that nothing is his fault, that over there higher up are the officials, who instead of him think, speak, plan, for him they decide, for him they take responsibility.
A pawn used to believe in his conviction, now he doesn‘t even believe.
A pawn can this way think,to be a righteous man, who got of the path only because of a general change.
A pawn is a beast, a pawn is a dangerous man, class enemy.
Powers by Ursula K. Le Guin
Main character grows up as a slave, but for a long time he doesn‘t see it as something that wrong, he doesn‘t rebel, and he even kind of advocates for it being that way. Family who owns him gives him education and he‘s growing up with children of the Family, playing games as if they were on the same side. There is a particular part of this story i think about from time to time. After stuff happens, he looses interest in the world and he‘s not in his actions, none of what he‘s doing has any meaning for him, everything he does is automatic and he let‘s the world decide his next course in life. And i can feel that.
  Books by Jane Austen
I remember i read Pride and prejudice in the first year of high school when i started reading classics. To be honest, i did not really understand it, just some kind of story about love i guess. I picked it up a few years later and found a witty ironic narrator talking about a women from a social class, who can‘t work because they don’t have to and that way work is considered beneath them, and any exertion is considered unnecessary attention-seeking and is looked down upon. If there’s not much to inherit and you can‘t live of your work, the only way to secure a living is to get married well.
  Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron
Tumblr media
Okay, so, the main character is a horse. And he‘s the strongest willed horse alive. This story is basically the world trying to break him, and i have to tell you, i love seeing him disapoint . There is no need for a character development, Spirit is already perfect at the beginning, he knows his place in the world, cares about his herd and all he wants is to be with them and to be free. To be honest, the animals not talking is a great choice here. There‘s a line from one of the songs that i remember from time to time: If you loose yourself, your courage soon will follow. So be strong tonight, remember who you are.
  Megamind
Tumblr media
Megamind‘s whole life was dedicated to defeating Metroman and to rule Metrocity, altough because of Metroman mostly he just end’s up in jail. But finally one day (thanks to an accident) he beats the superhero and becomes the most powerful person in the city. That‘s about ten minutes in the movie. However, as days go by he comes to the conclusion that his life without Metroman, his nemesis, lacks meaning. So he devises a plan to create himself a new superhero to fight. Superhero burnout, how our surroundings influence if we become good or evil, power not corrupting people just giving them a way to show who they‘ve always been, and more.
  Martin Eden by Jack London
Poor sailor saves a life of a man from higher society. When he meets the man‘s sister, he falls in love with her and starts educating himself to get to her level. And so the story of hypocrisy, shallowness and social injustice begins. As much as i’m still frustrated about the ending, the story itself still comes to my mind from time to time, but i have to reread it someday because i read it only once and it was a very long time ago, so i know there was a ton of themes and content that flew over my head at that time.
My youth romantic comedy is wrong as i expected by Wataru Watari
Tumblr media
This has a certain similarities to Catcher in the rye, mostly in style. Main character Hachiman Hikigaya is an unpopular high scholler without friends but with massive defence mechanisms to help him deal with his life. Great inner monologues.      
 Honorable mentions: Gattaca, Interstellar, Dark knight, Truman show, Brothers Karamazov, Coco, Brother bear, Matrix, Hamlet, Mucha do about nothing, Aoharu x kikanjuu(no seriously, this is hilarious), King of Attolia, Epos of Gilgamesh, Into the wild, Back to the future, stories by Božena Slančíková Timrava, Mulan, Fate/Zero
3 notes · View notes
medablvck · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
cis female / she + her. ┊ if you’re looking for ANDROMEDA BLACK, you’ll probably find HER in the SLYTHERIN dorm with the rest of the SIXTH years. they’re the TWENTY year old PUREBLOOD who looks kind of like KATIE DOUGLAS. they seem INQUISITIVE, SELF-RELIANT & ANALYTICAL to me, but apparently they’re also CYNICAL, INTROSPECTIVE & TACTLESS. maybe that’s why they remind me of rain on dark windowpanes, the heavy sweetness of red wine, ink-stained fingers. dark curls escaping from pins, burnt out matches from a guilty cigarette, and looking your mother in the eyes when you lie.
CHARACTER  INSPO  INCLUDES:  fitzwilliam  darcy  (  pride  and  prejudice  ),  huntress  (  birds  of  prey  ),  mei  (  a:tla  )
PRE-HOGWARTS  !!
andromeda  &  her  mother  have  what  u  can  call  a  strained  relationship.  from  her  moment  of  birth,  druella  saw  everything  andromeda  did  as  an  act  of  rebellion,  whether  it  was  a  childish  question  asked  in  the  wrong  place  at  the  wrong  time,  or  getting  so  absorbed  in  a  book  she  forgot  to  come  down  for  dinner,  or  a  bit  of  accidental  wandless  magic  born  out  of  a  moment  of  frustration.  every  day  was  a  trial  against  andromeda,  with  her  parents  acting  as  the  judge,  jury  and  executioner,  &  over  and  over  again  she  was  found  guilty.
andromeda  never  meant  to  defy  her  mother,  at  first,  but  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried  to  please  druella,  nothing  she  ever  did  was  quite  good  enough.  there  was  always  some  fault,  whether  it  was  a  lock  of  hair  tumbling  free  from  its  pin,  a  corset  come  unlaced,  posture  ruined  from  hunching  over  a  book.  her  wrists  were  too  bony,  her  lips  were  too  thin,  her  skin  too  easily  flushed.
[  ABUSE  TW  ]   it  didn’t  escape  andromeda’s  notice  that  every  flaw  her  mother  criticized  was  one  druella  shared  as  well,  and  when  she  grew  older  she  realized  her  mother’s  dissatisfaction  with  andromeda  was  merely  a  product  of  her  own  dissatisfaction  with  herself.  but  that  didn’t  feed  her  the  nights  she  was  denied  dinner  for  her  ‘ misbehaviour ’.  it  didn’t  take  back  the  days  andromeda  went  unable  to  speak  thanks  to  a  punitive  silencio,  and  it  didn’t  grant  andromeda’s  wish  to  have  a  real  mother  who  loved  her. [  END  TW  ]
did  druella  love  her  children  ?who  knows.  maybe  she  did,  in  her  own  twisted  way.  but   druella  was  first  and  foremost  a  business  woman,  and  her  main  trade  was  her  daughters.  andromeda  grew  up  listening  to  endless  warnings  that  her  mother  would  “ never  be  able  to  find  andromeda  a  husband  if  … ”  and  then  came  whichever  grievance  she’d  chosen  to  focus  on  that  day.
it  cannot  come  as  a  surprise  that  andromeda  learned  to  live  in  the  shadows,  away  from  her  mother’s  disapproving  glare;  that  she  learned  to  rely  on  herself  and  herself  only,  that  she  learned  to  watch  &  observe  &  test  the  waters,  to  think  before  acting.  (  of  course,  druella  did  not  approve  of  this  either,  and  informed  andromeda  that  no  man  would  want  a  girl  who  was  so  serious  all  the  time.  )
her  parents  often  dragged  her  and  her  sisters  to  various  pureblood  functions,  where  andromeda  stood  off  to  the  side  in  uncomfortably  starched  dresses,  disappearing  like  smoke  any  time  someone  looked  like  they  were  heading  over  to  strike  up  conversation.  she  would  explore  the  pureblood  manors,  all  silent  footsteps  &  watchful  eyes,  making  observations  on  how  the  wizarding  world’s  elite  lived  their  lives,  noting  separate  beds  in  the  master  bedrooms  &  half-empty  whiskey  bottles  in  the  washrooms.  it  seemed  like  everyone  was  only  looking  out  for  themselves  in  this  world,  trying  to  further  their  own  social  status  and  wealth.
at  home,  she  would  escape  to  the  roof  with  a  book,  whether  it  was  a  history  of  warlocks  or  the  kind  of  torrid  romance  novel  druella  pretended  she  didn’t  read,  dark  eyes  hardly  looking  up  as  the  sun  sank  lower  in  the  sky,  fingers  blackened  with  ink  by  the  time  she  closed  her  book  and  descended  into  the  house  to  face  her  mother’s  wrath  that  she  missed  her  piano  lessons.
is  it  strange  that  such  a  cynical  girl  could  have  such  a  yearning  for  beautiful  things  ?  or  would  that  merely  be  a  side  effect  of  cynicism,  to  long  for  something  to  thaw  a  hardened  heart  ?  andromeda  loved  beautiful  things,  perhaps  a  bit  too  much,  but  she  did  not  trust  them.  nothing  beautiful  was  made  to  last,  and  if  it  was,  it  wasn’t  truly  beautiful.  sunsets  faded  to  darkness,  books  ended,  lovers  grew  apart.  the  inherent  transience  of  beauty  made  andromeda  crave  it  all  the  more.  
HOGWARTS  !!
hogwarts  was  a  breath  of  fresh  air  for  andromeda,  the  chance  to  experience  life  outside  her  parents’  regime.  to  her  inquisitive,  probing  nature,  an  ancient,  magical  castle  full  of  history  &  secrets  was  paradise,  let  alone  all  the  classes  it  housed.  and  the  people  —  andromeda  had  never  seen  so  many  people  in  her  lifetime.  hundreds  &  hundreds  of  students  filled  the  castle,  all  with  their  own  thoughts  and  lives  and  desires.  
an  introvert  by  nature,  she  didn’t  interact,  merely  observed.  she  made  best  friends  with  the  library  &  the  constellations,  sneaking  out  of  the  dorm  to  sit  with  her  legs  dangling  over  the  fifty-foot  drop  of  the  astronomy  tower,  eyes  finding  her  constellation,  andromeda,  and  wondering  if  her  fate  was  written  in  the  stars  too;  drunk  on  the  beauty  of  an  untamed  scottish  night.
the  unidentifiable  yearning  she’d  always  kept  tucked  inside  a  corner  of  her  heart  ballooned  until  she  could  hardly  stand  it.  it  was  a  yearning  to  be  something  more than  the  perfect  pureblood  wife  her mother  was  trying  to  groom  her  to  be,  a  thirst  to  prove  herself  in  some  way  she  didn’t  even  understand  yet,  and  it  was  this  ambition  &  drive  that  got  her  sorted  into  slytherin.
if  druella  &  cygnus  had  thought  andromeda  was  unmanageable  before  hogwarts ,  when  she  wasn’t  even  trying  to  be,  she  was  downright  wild  when  she  returned  for  winter  break  in  first  year.  now  that  she  knew  life  could  be  better  than  what  she  was  currently  living  at  home,  she  buzzed  with  a  restless  energy  that  alarmed  her  parents.  andromeda  may  have  been  troublesome  before,  but  this  was  bordering  on  dangerous.  druella  made  the  decision  that  andromeda  would  not  be  returning  to  hogwarts.  [  ABUSE  TW  ]  this  sparked  one  of  the  worst  fights  they’d  ever  had,  and  culminated  in  a  rare  but  unforgiving  physical  beating.  [  END  TW  ]  
eventually  druella  conceded,  and  andromeda  was  allowed  to  return,  but  she  was  much  more  cautious  now.  she  only  made  friends  who  her  parents  would  approve  of,  she  kept  her  nose  clean,  and  at  home,  she  played  the  part  of  the  dutiful  daughter.  there  were  still  small  rebellions,  though  —  long  curls  cut  short  with  a  silver  flash  of  the  kitchen  scissors;  a  nicked  pack  of  her  father’s  cigarettes  smoked  cross-legged  on  the  roof,  coughing  into  her  fist  so  nobody  would  hear.  as  she  got  older,  she  paired  the  cigarettes  &  book  with  red  wine ,  the  finest  she  dared  steal  without  risk  of  being  caught.  this  was  her  escape,  her  small  patch  of  beauty  in  an  ugly  world.
andromeda  keeps  to  herself  at  hogwarts  as  much  as  she  can.  the  only  people  she  spent  time  with  were  those  her  parents  approved  of,  and  she  didn’t  like  most  of  them.  she  threw  herself  into  her  schoolwork  instead,  easily  landing  herself  a  spot  among  the  top  students.  
but  she  loves  hogwarts,  loves  it  with  all  her  heart,  as  so  many  abused  children  do  –  it’s  a  safe  haven,  a  place  where  she  can  at  least  pretend  she’s  free.  she  loves  learning  everything  that  she  can  (  in  fact,  she  was  very  nearly  sorted  into  ravenclaw  ).  her  favourite  place  to  be  is  the  astronomy  tower,  and  she  still  escapes  there  whenever  she’s  feeling  a  bit  too  claustrophobic.
she  was  chosen  to  be  a  slytherin  prefect  for  her  year  and  although  she  thought  she  wouldn’t  like  it,  she’s  grown  to  enjoy  the  position.  not  for  the  power  it  gives  her  over  her  fellow  students,  but  for  the  escape  it  brings.  she  can  associate  with  people  she  would  normally  never  talk  to,  and  roam  the  castle  freely  past  curfew.  and  andromeda  isn’t  a  naturally  nurturing  person,  but  she’s  found  that  she  enjoys  talking  to  and  helping  the  younger  years.  she  sees  their  wonder  at  hogwarts  in  their  eyes,  the  same  wonder  that  she  felt,  and  has  grown  quite  protective  over  quite  a  few  of  them.
she’s  technically  in  slug  club,  due  to  her  prowess  in  potions  and  her  illustrious  family  name,  although  she  hardly  ever  goes  –  she  does  not  like  slughorn  at  all,  nor  most  of  the  people  he’s  selected  to  be  in  his  little  club.  other  than  that,  however,  andromeda  doesn’t  make  a  habit  of  joining  clubs  or  teams  or  anything  that  would  involve  her  being  forced  to  interact  with  people.
PERSONALITY  !!
those  who  don’t  know  andromeda  might  say  she’s  aloof,  proud,  detached,  all  flint  eyes  &  sharp  edges.  and  they  wouldn’t  be  wrong.  andromeda’s  habit  of  keeping  to  the  shadows  has  carried  on  into  her  hogwarts  years,  and  as  an  introvert,  her  solitary  nature  can  sometimes  come  off  as  downright  anti-social.  she’s  naturally  pensive,  and  her  pensive  face  just  so  happens  to  look  pissed  off.  
she  finds  it  hard  to  trust  people.  she’s  so  used  to  a  world  shaped  by  selfishness  that  she  rarely  meets  someone  she  doesn’t  suspect  of  having  ulterior  motives.  after  all ,  beautiful  people,  like  beautiful  things,  are  temporary.  everyone  turns  ugly  sooner  or  later;  everyone’s  claws  are  eventually  revealed.
andromeda  carries  an  unmistakable  air  of  wealth  that,  although  entirely  unintentional,  can  rub  people  the  wrong  way.  she  has  a  taste  for  the  finer  things  in  life  —  an  aged  wine,  a  silken  scarf  —  and  sees  no  reason  why  she  shouldn’t  enjoy  them.  she’s  well  read  &  well  bred,  and  has  a  vocabulary  and  accent  that  can  seem  pretentious  to  some.
do  not  confuse  eloquence  with  smoothness,  though  —  just  because  she  knows  more  four-syllable  words  than  most  doesn’t  mean  she  knows  how  to  use  them.  awkwardness  comes  off  as  aloofness  and  snobbery.  think  mr  fitzwilliam  darcy.  this  girl  is  the  opposite  of  charming.  honestly,  most  people  probably  think  she’s  pretty  weird  cause  she’s  quiet  and  like  v  awkward  when  spoken  to.  just  kinda  does  stuff  on  her  own
8 notes · View notes
chibimyumi · 5 years
Note
Hi chibi, may I ask you a question about Ch151? I saw many theories conclude that Francis and Undertaker knew each other since Claudia's time. I wonder in japanese version if these two already say something canonically about it? I mean Undertaker may has been around Francis earlier, but Francis did she meet Undertaker at Vincent's time or when Claudia was still alive? Since many fans said that Francis knew Undertaker as her father, this made me so confused. Thank you!
Dear anon,
There is no explicit information whatsoever in the original manga, but there is some indication judging from the language Frances uses to the Undertaker.
Frances’ use of language in Japanese
In chapter 151 when Frances addresses the Undertaker, she says the following:
“葬儀屋、お前はお兄様がご存命の頃から変わらないな”
“Undertaker, omae wa oniisama ga gozonmei no koro kara kawaranai na”
“Undertaker, you haven’t changed since the time when my (honourable) brother was alive.”
The most noteworthy elements in her language are indicated in bold, and I shall expand on why these are important underneath. (It will be lengthy, but please bear with me.)
‘Oniisama’ and ‘Gozonmei’
Frances is a noble lady, and in the manga she uses formal language to people she considers her peer or above. Despite her clear dislike for her brother, she never fails to address him properly as ‘oniisama’, or ‘honourable brother’, even when she is yelling at him, or after his death.
“大体お兄様は昔からそうやって…”
“Daitai oniisama wa mukashi kara souyatte…”
“(Honourable) brother, you have always been like this from the past…”
Tumblr media
The ‘o’ and the ‘sama’ in ‘oniisama’ are honorifics in Japanese death trap, uh I mean polite language, ‘keigo’. Siblings normally don’t go beyond the expected politeness level of ‘oniichan/oneechan or niisan/neesan’.  Frances however, uses both of the highest honorifics ‘o’ and ‘sama’.
I do not think Frances uses this formality for Vincent because she really looks up to him. Rather, I think Frances uses this formal language because she is a respectable lady, and not using formal language when referring to her older brother would be considered ‘unrefined’ and be held against her. In the same way, the ‘go’ in ‘gozonmei’ (ご存命・alive) is also a hyper formality, and a marker of her grace as a lady.
In Japanese, language is an exceptionally telling method with which speakers express their identity. Among other things, a speaker’s formality or informality is considered a strong language marker with which they can present themselves. The infinitely varied language quirks and markers don’t all have a perfect equivalent in English, and therefore translation is very tricky. As such, a one-on-one translation from ‘oniisama’ to ‘honourable brother’ every time is just very unnatural, hence it is omitted in English.
Tumblr media
“葬儀屋、お前はお兄様がご存命の頃から変わらないな”
“Undertaker, omae wa oniisama ga gozonmei no koro kara kawaranai na”
“Undertaker, you haven’t changed since the time when my (honourable) brother was alive.”
In contrast to Frances’ hyper formality when speaking about her ‘honourable brother’, she uses informal language when talking about and to the Undertaker.
‘Omae’ (you (rude)), ‘Kawaranai na’ (haven’t changed) is informal speech. (Formal speech would have been ‘貴方’(anata) and ‘変わりませんね’ (Kawarimasen ne・have not changed).)
To me, this is an indication that Frances sees the Undertaker as below her rank. Frances using formal language for Vincent, while informal for Undertaker in the same sentence, is her implicitly differentiating the social hierarchy between Vincent and Undertaker. Consequently, I would say that Frances probably does NOT think that Undertaker is related to Claudia Phantomhive, because if she did believe so, Frances would most probably not have used this type of informal language.
Undertaker’s Language
Undertaker replies to Frances as follows:
“そうかい?小生にとってみれば君も生まれた頃がさっきのようだよ”
“Sou kai? Shousei ni totte mireba kimi mo umareta koro ga sakki no you da yo”
“Is that so? To me as well, it is as though you were born not very long ago.”
This line in Japanese is fairly standard and straighforward, and does not contain a lot linguistic hints. Undertaker merely seems to state that Frances did not change much either in his very, very old eyes. Rather than him dropping hints that he had met Frances at birth, I think it is more likely that he is playing it safe and not give Alexis Midford more reason to suspect the supernatural is involved. For more about R!Ciel hiding the involvement of the supernatural, click here.
There is no explicit information, but it is not impossible that Undertaker already met Frances during Claudia’s time when Frances was VERY young. But there is no information on whether Frances is actively aware of Undertaker’s presence during Claudia’s time. Frances’ and Undertaker’s interaction so far only indicates that there is no deep bond between them.
No indication of ulterior meaning
Japanese manga has a universal way to indicate when a spoken line contains an ulterior meaning.
Tumblr media
In Sebas’ text he says: “… Yes, I shall serve the young master well as his butler,” after Tanaka refers to O!Ciel by this title for the first time. The dots next to the word “bocchan/young master” mean to indicate that the word pronounced by Sebas contains an ulterior meaning. Now in retrospect we know “Ciel” is in fact not O!Ciel’s name, and that therefore Sebas is using the title to refer to his master to dodge his real name because he cannot lie.
In Undertaker’s text, he says: “Both ‘body’ and ‘memory’ hosted by the brain remain in this world.” These dots again tells the reader the speaker refers to not just any world, but specifically the human world (as opposed to the Reaper’s world.)
These dots however, do NOT appear in Undertaker’s speech bubble in chapter 151.
Tumblr media
Theory within the Japanese fandom
As I mentioned in another post, language shapes thought. As such, different theories may have emerged in the Japanese fandom. In the Japanese fandom, most people do not believe Undertaker is Frances’ and Vincent’s father, or Cedric K Ros.
Some arguments against Undertaker being the father as discussed in the Japanese fandom:
During the Boarding School Arc, Undertaker remained as fixated on O!Ciel as always, whereas he didn’t even bother batting an eye at Edward. Most of the Japanese fandom believe that Undertaker is only interested in the direct line of the Phantomhive family. Undertaker deliberately addressed Frances as ‘Lady Frances Phantomhive’, and this is considered a hint that his interest probably ends with her as a side-branch, and that this interest does not extend to her children. If Undertaker were Frances’ father, then this striking favouritism towards Vincent’s line would require some other explanation which is not in the manga canon (yet). As Yana has confirmed that Vincent and Frances are born of the same parents, this favouritism cannot be explained with “only Vincent is Undertaker’s child.”
Undertaker is a person who does not hide his emotions towards the Phantomhive tragedy very well. If just thinking about Vincent is enough to make him cry, then meeting Frances after such a long time would probably have stirred some emotions. This reunion would not necessarily be enough to make him cry, but the interaction with Frances would probably not have been as cheerful and aloof as in chapter 151.
During the Luxury Liner Arc too, Undertaker did not seem to care about the Midford family at all, despite clearly having had a lot of chance to reach out to them. Judging by Undertaker’s dodging skills as attested in the Boarding School Arc, he could easily have avoided O!Ciel and Sebastian during the first demonstration of the Aurora Society if he wanted to, but instead he chose to engage O!Ciel - ‘a main Phantomhive’. Yet again, we see a clear contrast between Undertaker’s interest in O!Ciel and the lack hereof for the Midfords.
Side-argument. Undertaker CAN’T be Cedric K. Ros: Undertaker is confirmed to have been a reaper for at least 70 years. 1889 - 70 = 1819. Claudia Phantomhive was born in 1830, which means that by the time she was born, Undertaker was already a reaper. In the family tree, Cedric K Ros was officially registered as her legal spouse. Had Claudia been a commoner, than marrying some random person that does not exist in the civilian personnel archive might have been possible. But considering how she was the Countess of Phantomhive, it would have been very troublesome to marry a man who does not officially exist.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Arguments supporting Undertaker being the father in the Japanese fandom come in far lesser quantities, but a few popular ones are as follows:
Frances’ platinum blond-grey-ish hair resembling Undertaker’s silver hair.
Elisabeth and Edward both having green eyes. But as all reapers get green eyes the moment they become one, this theory does not hold water.
The lack of information about Undertaker and Cedric K Ros allowing for intersection between them. So far - whatever little canon information there is about Undertaker and Cedric respectively do not exclude each other.
Undertaker’s obsession with Claudia clearly being the strongest, and leaves enough room for people to ship them romantically, and therefore having produced children. Most fans who do believe Undertaker and Claudia were romantically involved however, tend to believe Undertaker was the lover of Claudia, and not her spouse.
In short, so far in the Japanese fandom, there are more arguments against Undertaker being Vincent and Frances’ father than for.
365 notes · View notes
Text
[Translation] Machine Elements - Cast Presentation: Procellarum
Tumblr media
Hey, y’all!! Here’s Procella’s introduction for Machine Elements~! As usual, thank you to @ryuukia for working on the Tsukiuta and Empire-related pages for Machine Elements~! 
I guess the next one would be Swiiiiiits?? Can’t say for sure when it will actually be finished though XD But please look forward to them, too~
※ Please don’t re-post and re-translate this interview under any circumstances. If you want to translate it to your native language, I can provide the kanji I transcribed from the scans ^^
Under the cut, enjoy~!
Tumblr media
SHIMOTSUKI SHUN
“Now, everyone, are you ready? This is the beginning of a sweet adventure ☆” PROFILE:
NAME: Shimotsuki Shun
GUILD: Procellarum (※Guild master)
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ A young man who is the master of Procellarum, a guild said to be legendary. He’s someone impossible to get a grip of, and overflows with playfulness in more than one way.
□ He basically seems to only stay at the base, [Byakko], where he drinks tea elegantly while waiting for the return of his fellow Procellarum members, who fly around the world. Next to him appears to be a large animal from the cat family that resembles something which could only possibly come out of legends.
□ A few hundreds years old photo of a young man who resembles him perfectly came to light, and since then rumours about him being immortal have flooded the world. There are too many mysteries surrounding him. 
COMMENT:
Welcome, to the [Kisosekai] world! I’m Procellarum’s leader, Shimotsuki Shun. This time the world is filled with cutting-edge yet broken machines, with primitive machines and plants. There’s a bit of magic, plus a variety of beings come to coexist despite not having any sense of conformity, and still, this world is filled with possibilities. There are so many things that come out of this chaos. Now, I wonder what will come to life this time? Let’s have a look together at everyone’s great adventure while having some refined tea. 
FUDUKI KAI
“Roger. If that’s the case, let’s move forward at full speed, everyone!” 
PROFILE:
NAME: Fuduki Kai
GUILD: Procellarum
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ Procellarum’s elder brother and the one in the position of adviser. Behind his roughness and big heart hides someone acknowledged for his reliability and for his abilities to slip though during battle scenes.
□ He came to own a personal ship due to switching between their general shop from [Touda] and the [Byakko] base quite often. The ship’s name is [Leon]. It appears that sometimes he goes on trips to faraway countries with this ship.
□ As it can be seen, judging the loupe placed over his right eye, he loves tinkering with the machines. Sometimes he also hangs a notice for Shun before going to excavate the ruins.  
COMMENT:
Hello, Fuduki Kai here! This time the Procella team rises in the world once again as a legendary guild! As a general merchant, I cooperate in settling the mundane troubles that appear in the neighbourhood, but in the back I seem to be doing things like treasure hunting all over the world. Let me say, I’ve been, really, so looking forward to this! I love it (laughs). Although there are restrictions in the world view, Procella and Gravi are some sort of exceptional appearances and we have as many weapons as we want. I’ve been wanting to use a whip and when I made the suggestion they said OK. Expect me to (maybe) handle a whip splendidly!   
Tumblr media
HADUKI YOU
“Ah, seriously. You’re so troublesome!”
PROFILE:
NAME: Haduki You
GUILD: Procellarum
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ Among the Procellarum members, he’s the one who flies around the most, and also the one who holds the instigator position. He seems to go around ruins all over the world, where he collects samples. 
□ His favourite phrase is ‘troublesome’, and despite coming across only troubles or problems during his journeys around ruins, he is sometimes the one who takes up the contrary position and he’s good at taking care of others. When problems with women (of any age) arise, he will 100% help.
□ Physique-wise, he’s especially tall and nimble. On the spur of the moment, his ability to judge the situation is also very high. Furthermore, his strength during fights is particularly good too due to using a mysterious weapon bestowed to him by Shun. Also, he might have possibly beat a group of certain outlaws by himself?
COMMENT:
Everyone, were you waiting for my cool action scenes~? I have some this time around too… or to be more exact, they’re too many (laughs)! And, this is Haduki You. Even with that in mind, I’ll still do my best to retort to whatever happens. There’s even wire action, so if you came this far, you have to enjoy yourself watching it! Kicking the rascals in order to help the girls in need sounds like something I’d do, right? I’m flashy from the very first appearance, so make sure you burn my cool form into your mind. I leave the cheering to you!
NAGATSUKI YORU
“Okay, let’s get to work without complaining.”
PROFILE:
NAME: Nagatsuki Yoru
GUILD: Procellarum
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ Procellarum’s earnest member. He and Shun are seen together with Byakko here and there, however he usually takes care of office work and has side jobs. He may have quite the docile looks, but as expected from the member of a guild said to be legendary, he moves around a lot.
□ His side jobs include making canned food. This miracle collaboration born from using Yoru’s pre-possessed cooking abilities and a machine invented by Shun created the canned food titled ‘Nagatsuki Madness’. Procellarum’s rumoured source of income is from delivering the canned food to celebrity shops from all over the world.   
□ In an unexpected turn of events, he decided to go the Art City ‘Rikugo’ while working as a general merchant in ‘Touda’ together with Rui.
COMMENT:
Hello, I’m Procellarum’s Nagatsuki Yoru. In a mysterious world where machines and plants blend together…...I’m making canned food (laughs)! There is actually an interesting scene in this story where I’m making canned food. I use, in fact, a machine that makes the canned food, though I couldn’t help but want one for the dorm too (laughs)! 
I may seem to enjoy my days peacefully, but starting with the arrival in the Art City, the story surrounding the mysteries of the world will enfold. It seems I have a few action scenes, so I will do my best!
Tumblr media
MINADUKI RUI
“......These sounds are nostalgic.”
PROFILE:
NAME: Minaduki Rui
GUILD: Procellarum
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ Among the Procellarum members, he and Iku are in charge of the shop management in ‘Touda’. More exactly, he’s responsible of the indoors part. As the one who handles information, he sorts and communicates every single detail concerning Procellarum.  
□ He developed his own unique code using sounds, which seems to have reduces the risk of information leakage instantly. 
□ He has unusual instincts and the data he picks up usually have something more hidden to them. Based on his standing in the Twelve Regions, he is usually the one who manages to get Shun the knowledge that he wants due to his vast networks of information.
□ By coincidence, he decided to visit the Art City ‘Rikugo’ together with Yoru. While he was there, he met Kakeru and Koi. He’s usually an indoor type of person but he was running around with the other two.
COMMENT:
Hi, I’m Procellarum’s Minaduki Rui. This time the concept of the stage play is steampunk. The costumes are cool, and cute, right? There are ornaments on the costume that may or may not have meaning, and there are also parts that are really necessary. I love them. It seems like there are also official merch for this world-view so please, check them as well. I diligently worked on advertising. 
KANNADUKI IKU
“Shun-san! Won’t you leave this to me?”
PROFILE:
NAME: Kannaduki Iku
GUILD: Procellarum
BASE: The White Demon Stone [Byakko]
□ He’s the most light-footed member of Procellarum who’s also in charge of the guild’s public relations. He goes around in the city, runs to the front lines, and even charges through rough places! “Please leave everything to me!”
□ Normally, he’s a shop attendant at a small shop called “General Shop ~Furosera~” in Downtown Touda. Only a few members know that the shop is run by a legendary guild. 
□ “General Shop ~Furosera~” handles things from looking for lost items or searching for pets.From rubbish pickers up to spring cleaning helpers. No matter how small the problem is, they work to resolve it. Come, let’s say it with energy… “Welcome!”
COMMENT:
Hello!
I’m Procella’s Kannaduki Iku. The fun part about joint stage-plays is that we can always offer you a different scenery on the stage. 
For the fans of other units, the atmosphere may seem different. 
You might wonder if you’re supposed to laugh at certain points, or whether you’re supposed to have a reaction. 
I’ll work hard to show everyone a fresh scene each day.
The people in the audience are looking forward to this just as much as me, … or actually, should be looking forward even more than me! And if possible, please remember my face and name after you return home (laughs). 
Please take care of me!
Translator's note:
- The name of the store was a bit tricky. The kanji meant something like "Anything Store ~Wholesaler~", but in the end we decided to go with 'general shop' (basically a shop that sells anything), while 'wholesaler' is actually a play on Procella, so we went for the literal reading, 'furosera'.
※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission.
If you enjoyed this, please consider buying me a ko-fi here to support my work if you want. (o^▽^o)Thank you!!
51 notes · View notes
hellsbovnd · 4 years
Text
days gone by.
wc: 1380
focus: rosemund blackthorne (IT KEEPS HAPPENING)
thanks to @ilsabard​ for the title prompt suggestion!! this might not be entirely like, coherent--being written in multiple sessions--but i love writing inner monologues...
[ PDF MIRROR ]
Snowflakes drifted down gently from the sky, the morning sun unable to pierce through the cloudcover. It cast the city of Ishgard in uniform shades of gray. Ishgard often went without the warmth or light of the sun these days---Rosemund didn't make a habit of tracking the weather, but every time the clouds retreated and the sun was allowed to peek out he found himself counting his blessings.
His breath, warm, turned to fog in the air with every exhale, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as he traded a meandering sort of path through the pillars. His head was killing him---an unfortunate consequence of waking up sober and deciding that he should give his body a break from the wine for at least until the churchbells tolled noon. But with the ache came clarity, the sort that Rosemund found in short supply in his life these days---these gray, troublesome days.
Walking through the streets of Ishgard early enough that hardly anyone else was about, not in armor but in plainclothes, was a bit of a strange feeling. There were guards, of course---Temple and House Knights unlucky enough to pull the straw for the graveyard shift, most of whom were eagerly waiting for the next shift to arrive so that they could go home to their families and then---more like than not---crawl into bed. But there were no merchants, no strolling noblewomen or maids running errands or airship pilots on their way to the landing or short strings of highborn children walking in strict lines, following their tutors to church or on some other sort of outing to get them out of their parents' hair for the day. There was just the breeze, the snow, and the quiet.
And, of course, Rosemund.
Before the Calamity, when the climes of Ishgard were somewhat fairer, Rosemund would often take walks like this to clear his head, just as he'd often spend time out in his mother's old garden. Were it not for the Calamity, it would have been spring now. The flowers would be blooming---it would have been a sight to behold. There were still some blooms these days, of course---now that all of the plants dotting Ishgard's streets had been replaced with varieties hardier to the harsh Coerthan winters. But it was nothing like before.
Nothing was like before.
Nothing would ever be like before.
Not within his lifetime, at least.
His feet carried him often enough to the park situated one layer under the Last Vigil, a tunnel of stone cutting through it to provide a short, easy path between the Tribunal and the Cathedral. The shrubs and grass was bound in rime, turning it from a bright green to a sort of gray-blue color that was just close enough to the rest of the city's scenery to be depressing, but not quite close enough to blend in completely. He took a seat on a bench that had been but recently donated to the park as a show of good will from the noble houses that worked to support the Restoration effort. (It had a plaque denoting who had donated it, but Rosemund didn't bother to give it a second glance.)
He always found himself on the Tribunal side, although the side that faced the Cathedral would doubtlessly have the better view. Although Rosemund neglected to attend mass for the most part these days, the cathedral's architecture and the large, arching windows of stained glass scenes and symbols were among Ishgard's pride and joy. It was a focal point of Ishgardian culture even now that the Dragonsong War was over; while the Church no longer played any role in state affairs and it was marginally more acceptable to criticize the church in light of the lies that were unearthed in the War's final days, it wasn't simple work to change people's way of life.
Most of Ishgard's highborn were still pious, Fury-fearing men and women; most of Ishgard's knights and soldiers were, too. It was easier to stomach the lies when you were the ones who benefitted from them, when you were told that you were born more well-off than others because of some innate quality of being better. Even Rosemund had held that to be true before he found himself turning from the Church's teachings---because if the Church could be wrong about his father, what else could they be wrong about? Would the Fury truly approve of executing an innocent man?
Rosemund still didn't have a proper answer to that question.
He ran his thumb idly over his forearm, where his soul crystal rested, held fast to his skin by tightly-wound bandages. Some sort of soothing gesture, maybe, as the crystal burned into his flesh at the thought of his father---only to subside as his head cleared. He took a breath, let it go. There was no bringing back the dead.
The best he could do, really, was see to it that the dead were remembered. His father---others who had died deaths like him. And, as much as Rosemund hated to admit it---------
He remembered each of his victims. Perhaps not in the way that they would have liked to be remembered, but he he remembered them nonetheless; their crimes, the sight and smell of their blood. They were the truly abhorrent members of Ishgardian society---those who would prey upon the weak---and their deaths were in the name of justice. But even with fifteen years of work leaving his dreams blood-stained, Ishgard never seemed to be getting any cleaner. At most it bought a few moons of the illusion that things had improved before someone else would simply appear to replace whatever monster he'd put to the blade.
His breath left him with a shudder, his hands balling into fists in his pockets. 'Fury, how can you even think like that? This is not work you are supposed to enjoy.'
If Rosemund was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure that the man he was before he'd found his soul crystal (wrapped with care, like a gift, and placed gingerly in his mailbox one faithful summer night, the year he'd turned twenty, for him to find in the morning) would recognize much of who he'd become. Training to become a Temple Knight alongside Lazarus and Zarioux felt like a lifetime ago, and while he was glad that they could pick up from where they left off so easily after so many years apart he couldn't help but wonder if they could see through his facade and see what havoc the years had wrought on who he was fundementally. He woke up some mornings disgusted at his reflection---there was a good reason why he did not keep mirrors around his house anymore.
Back then, Rosemund never would have dreamed of taking another man's life---unless it was in service to another. He never wanted to be a hero like Zarioux. He still didn't want to be a hero, didn't consider himself one; he was nothing more than a judge and jury. He wished that he had his life as well-managed as Lazarus, though if Alaire was to be believed...
'What would I do about it? If what he said was true?'
He let his eyes slip closed, turning his gaze to the heavens. He didn't have the answer to that question either.
Rosemund had ever been the sort of person to take things as they came, only enough foresight put into his crimes that he could continue to carry out judgement on those he deemed evil. Almost all of his actual murders were premeditated well in advance. As appealing as it was, he couldn't let himself succumb to the rage that roiled beneath the surface; there was too much at stake if he------
He gritted his teeth at the thought. If he lost control, he'd already asked Zarioux to put him down. Wasn't that insurance enough?
How he wished he could indulge in the same rose-covered veneer of days gone by that others could. Noblemen and -women could spend bells and bells reminiscing, but what did Rosemund have left? There was nothing in his life that the darkness could not touch.
Perhaps, then, his only option was to look forward.
That'd have to be enough.
2 notes · View notes
circuscyclops · 4 years
Text
Angie!
    ok so i finished Angie’s reference and I’m super proud of it.  
Tumblr media
oh and here’s bio if you want info of her but, it’s long so. have fun reading u^_^
BASIC INFORMATIONName: Angelica Romanova Frost (goes by Angie)
Nickname(s): Angie, Kirby, shorty, Ann
Age: 16(17 now)
Gender/Sex: female
Sexuality: pansexual
date of Birth: January 1, on new years
Place of Birth: Ottawa, Canada
Ethnicity: Canadian, Russian and French
Superpowers: She has Sub-Zero/Ice Manipulation and it’s very similar to Cecile’s and a vorpe gate like her dad but instead of just making a gate on her earth, she can make gates to the multi Versace by making a circle formation with her hand, (her favorite one is the bnha/MHA Versace). but it takes a lot of energy from her and she can pass out from overuse it.
Occupation/Job: She works at a Cat Cafe three times a week and on Sundays, she volunteers an animal shelter
APPEARANCEHeight: 5'0" 152.4 cm
Weight: 132 lbs
Body Type: hourglass/ Curvy,
Skin Tone: a pale orange
Facial Shape: rounded heart
Eye Color: blue
Hair Style: black blueish wavy bob with fringe/bangs. Has the withe streak in the middle of her fringe/bangs
Tattoos/Piercings/Scars?: her lobes are pierced, normally has cat shape or theme earrings
Dress: likes high waisted shorts, pants and skirt and oversized or button-up shirts, dresses from 1940,50 and ‘60s. thigh high gray/black stocking and skinkers or ankle boots but no heel
.Accessories: earrings
ATTITUDE
Personality: a nice, sweet, energetic person that always sees the good in people, is very stubborn, but has the shortest patients when it comes to teasing towards her, family and friends. She might be a bit of a doormat but she’ll throw hands. She’s always friendly towards everyone. When you get to know her better you’ll see the Lil meme gremlin, she won’t hesitate to roast the shit out of you
Likes: cats, games, baking, tea, traveling through the multi Versace, crafting, sleepovers, using OwO, UwU in conversations, sleeping..a lot
.Dislikes: Being called short, High heels, bookshelves, anything that points out she’s short in general, creepy customers and unknown phone numbers
Moral: don’t judge a book by its cover, read it first, so don’t judge people from the first time meeting, wait a bit until you know who the person is.
Motivation: being the best you can be even if others look down on you for the things you can’t control.
Discouragement: she was ridiculed for being so short and was told: “A girl like you needs a big strong man to keep her safe” by older women, and because she was an early bloomer she was teased, by prepubescent boys.Confidence Level: She hates that she’s so short and but she is very confident and can have the biggest smile like the dork she is
Greatest Fear/Phobia: being lost in space and being abandoned
RELATIONSHIPS
Parents: Dad Richard age 45, mother Marina age 43
Siblings?: Cecile, Nate, Marten
Other Relatives: sister in law Uma and nephew Micky (This is her mom’s side of the family) Granma Luiza 67, Grampa Lafayette, 69, her two aunt Irina 32 and Natasha 32 (they are twins), two uncle Andrian 33 and Bohdan 39, and to many cousins to name (The dad’s side of the family )Grandpa David 68, Granma Melodie 65, her three aunts Marilyn 36, Ariana 34 and Cassie 35, two uncles Thomas 41 and Zack 30.
Friends: Christina, Izzie, and a few people across multi Versace. She is also good friends with Cecile’s besties
Best friend: Izzie is her childhood friend and is Eliot’s younger sister
Significant Other/Crush: ok don’t hate me but wanna ship her with shinsou
Enemies/Rivals: she has a lot of online enemies and she made a few over multi Versace
.Pets: Kirby♂ a British shorthair munchkin mix breed, Franky♀ a Thai breed, Meatball♂ a Siberian cat, Mochi♀ a Japanese bobtail, William snakespare♂ a pink albino corn snake and coco♂ a chocolate mitt ferret.
LIFE
Strengths: a lot of sleep to restore her energy and any form of heatWeaknesses: overusing both of her powers can damage her body a lot.
Hobbies: knitting, charm making, sewing, streaming Minecraft, she’s good at working with Advanced technology and coding, and making it into something new so she and her two friends made Cecile’s suit.
Habits: tapping her nails on hard surfaces, mumbling a lot, chewing on her lips and itching/scratching whenever she’s nervous
Area of Residence/Environment: Dad’s house
Home Description: she has a big room with a walk-in closet, her room is the gamer girl/ e-girl aesthetic
Health: because of a health complication when she was born that she would only be 4'11” or5'0”, she will be 5'0” and she’ll stay like that. She also has a lot of back and foot pain. She’s deadly allergic to peanuts.
BACKSTORY: Angie was born a month earlier than expected and on new years in the same hospital that her older sibling was born. She was a very small baby, not Weighing more than 1.5kg at birth but she was a very healthy baby. When her mother left she was only 3 months old at the time. Her dad found her crying in her crib, he picked her and swaged her to calm her sobbing and back to sleep. So from that point on she has never seen or known her mother. It’s also around this time her vorpe gates stranded appearing, she would crawl towards them when her dad wasn’t looking and she would be in another part of the house. She was a troublesome baby. When she was two she meets her new stepbrother, marten. They grew very close and they would help steel cookies.
(Time skip)
When she was three she moved to a new place and was very excited. She didn’t have friends back in Ottawa. But when she moved she met her very first friend. Of course, Angie played with all the other kids but nothing more, so when she met Izzie for the first time they grew very close, with every passing day getting closer. They started having sleepovers once or twice a week. Her ice powers showed up and she was very scared, she always went to Cecile and Nate for help, even if she had a very hard time controlling it they helped her, this makes a bonding activity for them. She was always happy to spend time with them.
(time skip)
(little side note, Angie went with Cecile to her grandparents to train, she learned how to control her power with the help of Irina. She spent a lot of time with her two uncles who work with tech and were happy to have her around.)When Angie was seven, it was the hardest for her. because Cecile was missing made her very scared, she didn’t understand why or how that could happen, she just wanted her sister back!. She couldn’t sleep or eat and tt night she would hear dad in the kitchen, and he was on the phone talking to someone and she always got scared so she went to him when he put the phone down to tell him she couldn’t sleep. After eight months of searching, they found Cecile and Angie was so relieved. But something was wrong and she didn’t know why, after a while of Cecile going to therapy, things got a bit better and that’s all she asks for.
(time skip)
Izzie and Angie are as close as ever and went to the same middle school and a new member of their friend group has been added, Christina, she moved from new york to Toronto. They invited her to sit with them at lunch. The school was great but Angie was going through hell, she was an early Bloomer and was getting a little bit curvy. So she got a lot of unwanted attention from boys, so she started wearing baggy clothes. She, of course, told her dad about it and he had the idea that she should learn a bit of self-defense if anything happens and made a complaint to the principal. Cecile helped her learn and thought she should train with her and their aunts.
(time skip)
Angie and Izzie go to the same high school as her older sibling did and Christina goes there as well and they made some more friends. Now that they are teens they go out at night to hang out and have little fun but something always happens and they get into trouble, do they stop. no 
1 note · View note
lilcutieana · 6 years
Text
Alive ~ (Robot Kim Seokjin)
Tumblr media
Pairing:  Robot! Kim Seokjin| Reader Words: 2k Rating: M (mature), smut in future chapters. Warnings: Strong language, violence, mentions of death and lots of angst  Genre: Hybrid AU, Robot AU  Synapse: A world where hybrids are no longer seen as pets and have been replaced by robots instead. Where robots have feelings, emotions and adapt just the way you need them to. 
So… Which robot would you like to order?
Masterlist || One shots Masterlist ||Chapter 1
                                             Prologue 
After the hybrid human war in South Korea, both humans and hybrids faced tremendous losses. The hybrids now co-existed with humans and humans have reverted back to using robots for their needs instead of owning hybrids.
Hybrids are no longer the pets and slaves, but live proudly alongside humans, have children with them; and, being genetically advanced in every aspect-- they're preferred candidates for every human job. No longer are they experimented on, or created in labs—they’re born naturally now.
The robots are far more advanced now and humane. They come with memories, emotions, functions—all things customized according to the need of the owner. The more money and power you have—the more you are favored. These days not just everyone gets to own a robot of their own. Only the ones who deserve them the most—gets to own them. It’s extremely hard to customize robots after all. Not everyone can do it.
And that is the reason why crimes have significantly increased. No human can stay much longer without releasing their stress and inner hatred onto someone else—be it hybrid or human. Now that it’s taken away—they’ve resorted back to unleashing it on each other.
"Ma’am, our next applicant seems quite the troublesome one. I don't think we can discourage them."
"That's okay Suwon, hand me the form. I'll take it from here." Miyoung smiled at her secretary, looking up from the desktop screen.
Suwon pursed his lips. His grey ears atop his head twitching in annoyance. He didn't like it one bit when the rich and powerful people demanded robots and never cared for them enough. Humans were selfish. The rich-- even more so. They had too much money and time on their hands and destructed everything around them.
"Suwon." Minyoung placed her arms on her lap and turned towards him. "Don't judge every man who is not here for donations, but, to buy from us. Even rich people can have genuine reasons."
"If it’s a birthday present for someone whose choice they aren't even sure about, or a sex toy for their sexually deviant child, or worse-- a punching bag for their aggressive friend—I refuse." Suwon snapped. Turning his head, he glared at the wall, breathing hard. "They are humane, our robots are like a young child, with feelings and no memories. They need love, care, attention to understand the world and then gradually adapt to the owner and they do not, under any circumstances, deserve being treated like absolute shit just because they aren't made of flesh and bones."
"And that's exactly why Suwon, we run multiple tests before taking requests." She licked her lips, a silent command in her voice, "he must have waited long enough, send him in and leave his form with me."
"But, miss, he's ..." Suwon hesitated, the form clutched tight in his hands, his tail flicking behind him nervously.
"I don't pay you to make decisions for me, Suwon." She turned her attention back to her desktop screen, saving the documents she had been working on. A previous request for robot puppy—to help the owner recover from the loss of her puppy in an accident.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Right away." Suwon left the room with a soft click of the door, followed by Miyoung sighing in her seat. She was just an ordinary robot maker. And now, she ran one of the biggest companies in Asia, producing top-notch robots – who never disappointed. The reason? Their memories were replaceable and could be manipulated. That was the company secret.
Every two years, the robots had to be brought for routine checkup and recovery. A week-long process where they helped the robot heal any trauma or get additional improvements and software upgrades—for a charge, of course.
There were people who couldn’t afford to pay for the robot that they needed to live. And for that, she was the first, and the only company in the world—who accepted them to pay their debts through working. They were trained for a month and sent to houses for a survey of robots, customer satisfaction, suggestion, and other important data. And that was the second key—for the success to her company.
A curt knock on the door, startled her out her reverie, revealing a man in his late fifties—or was it sixties? She couldn’t tell. She was quite bad at the age guessing game. His eyes were a bit sunken in, dark freckles on the left side on his forehead and cheeks, dark skin and a beautiful relaxed smile. He didn’t raise any alarm bells in her yet, and she deemed him safe enough. For now.
“Please, take a seat.” Gesturing towards the couch, she got up from the chair and followed him there. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Ah… No. Thank you for asking, miss.” He smiled back politely and sat down, picking a blue cushion and positioning it over his thighs. “I need a robot for this woman.” Placing a Polaroid photograph of a young hybrid girl on the table between them, the man regarded Miyoung carefully.
“Do you know for sure that’s exactly what she wants?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what Y/N needs. A robot of her own who she can trust not to leave or to die.” He nodded solemnly. “I’ve known her for a little over five years and with time—her depression and anxiety got worse. But not that my son’s no more, who she had been dating for a few years, she’s losing herself. She’s dying on her own—wouldn’t accept any care, is being ridiculously stubborn too. I just don’t know any other way.”
“I see. A care bot then.” Miyoung nodded to herself, her eyes darkening. “I’ll need you to fill up a form and add all specifications before we can decide on further things.”
The man nodded and licked his lips. Clasping his hands over his thighs, he looked around the office, his gaze sharp and calculating. “Can the robot’s memories be manipulated?”
The question came out of nowhere and Miyoung, was absolutely not expecting this question out of all others to come from a harmless looking man.
“Yes, they can be. But not by the ones who own the robot.” She answered carefully, gauging his reactions to the new revelation. The public didn’t know much about robots—except their types and their functions.
He slumped in his seat, relaxed. “That’s a relief. I wouldn’t want someone else tampering with its memories. Even though a robot—I believe they’d have their own personality, feelings, and emotions.”
“That’s right. They do. They’re almost the same as a human, just more innocent.” Miyoung smiled back, relieved. Her doubts about the man melting away. He might be rich, but he had a better understanding. He wasn’t as bad as her secretary had made him out to be.
“There’s something… I’d like you to know beforehand.” He leaned forward with his hands clasped over his knees. “The reason behind my son’s death is still unclear. Though she needs all the care, I’m worried about the robot that would replace my son in her life. I need the robot to be strong enough to defend itself.”
Miyong’s heart sunk. She knew the request couldn’t have been as simple. Either he was threatening her, or maybe he didn’t need the robot to protect the girl—rather to spy on her. To maybe find out about his son’s death. She wondered what his real intentions were. Did he suspect the girl as a murderer?  
“I’ll look into it and prepare a bot according to the form you’ll be filling up. There will be people discharged to get a feel of your place and to survey different things. Don’t be too alarmed.” Miyoung nodded, a smile on her lips that were just as fake as her lashes.
What had she got herself into?
═══════ ⋆★⋆ ════════ 
“Y/N, a bright young woman of twenty-three, mourning over the death of her lover of age twenty-eight, lives in a house they both owned at the upper rich side of Seoul.” A lanky boy in his late teens, huffed along behind a tall, broad-shouldered and lean man dressed immaculately in a suit, carrying two suitcases while scaling the unending steps to said house.
“She refuses to eat, drink or even talk to anyone. She’s resigned to staying inside their shared bedroom and you—as handsome as you are—are expected to get her out of her slump. That’s your task.” Nodding to himself, he stopped and stared both ways, looking for the address he was supposed to drop off the handsome robot in. Delivery was always a pain in his ass.
“So you agree I’m handsome?” The robot turned around, his stoic expression turning into one of pure innocence and wonder.
“There’s nothing to agree upon, you know? That’s just the way you were designed.” The boy averted his eyes to the side, his neck flushing a faint pink. “Anyway, that’s all you heard from all the important stuff I’ve been raving about?”
The man shrugged his shoulders, a pensive look on his face. “I’ll figure it out somehow. How bad can a dog hybrid be?”
“You just cursed yourself to doom.”
“I’ll deal with it. So… when do we get to eat?” he asked excited, his eyes sparkling under the sun, and his blonde hair making his caramel skin look paler than it was.
“Whenever you decide to cook the countless recipes saved in your memory.” Looking around, the boy’s eyes fixated on a fairly large mansion to their right. Its yard looking more intimidating than welcoming. “Looks like we’ve made it here. This is as far as I go.”
“Yeah, thanks, man. I’ll carry these suitcases from here.” The robot picked up the heavy suitcases from the teen’s hands as if they were just textbooks. “Stop looking at me like I’m the Ironman. I’ll miss you. Its been fun the past week learning with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was only doing my job.” Patting his elbow, the boy turned around, his ears a bright pink as he continued walking away—kicking a stray pebble along.
Giggling to himself, the suited man straightened his jacket and bit his lip. Well, he hadn’t expected to come to stay at such a luxurious home. Well, he supposed he’d enjoy his stay while it lasted.
Dragging his suitcases behind him, he walked forward with a new purpose, the gates opening on their own as soon as they scanned him. The gravel path crunched under his boots—a gift from the one who had designed him, the foliage around was trimmed to perfection, even the water in the little fountain had been sparkling and shimmering. The house was indeed well looked after—at least from the outside.
Then why was the owner not looked after? Why did she need him?
Knocking on the ornate door with a simple floral design, he wasn’t one bit surprised when nobody opened it for him. Sighing, he slumped against the door, dropping the handles of the suitcases he’d been carrying.
“Y/N… I know you’re watching me, and probably listening to me too.” Licking his suddenly dry lips, he continued, “I’m Kim Seokjin, here to be your caregiver. Won’t you let me in?”
Though he was right, she was watching him and listening to him from the other side of the door, what he didn’t know was how broken she was and how much those very words affected her.
They meant a completely different thing to her. Those were the exact words he had spoken to her the first time they met. The words she never wanted to hear again. 
Prologue || Chapter 1
352 notes · View notes
starchained-blog · 5 years
Text
Tumblr media
whats  up  my  dudes  !!!   i  am  bee,  i’m  19  &  i  never  fuckin  learned  how  to  stop  using  this  exact  vine  reference  in  all  my  intro  posts  !!  i  will  be  playing  my  Babe  andromeda  black.  but  first  a  lil  bit  about  me  b4  i  start  2  ramble  about  andromeda:  i’m  always  a  slut  for  the  Aesthetic,  i’m  a  math  Nerd  aaaand  im  probably ??  way  too  in  love  w  fitzwilliam  darcy.  also  i  will  Always  want  to  plot  so  if  u  do  too  please  hmu  !!  nyways  u  can  find  out  more  abt  my  daughter  andromeda  under  the  cut  !!
- ̗̀✰ • 【  XU  JIAQI,  CISFEMALE,  SHE/HER  】 ❝  did  you  see  ANDROMEDA  BLACK  on  the  train  back  to  hogwarts  ?  they’re  a  PUREBLOOD  in  their  THIRD  year  as  a  TWENTY-year-old  SLYTHERIN.  apparently  they’re  the  RECUSANT  around  the  grounds;  most  likely  because  they  give  off  an  aura  of  rain  on  dark  windows,  the  heavy  sweetness  of  red  wine,  ink-stained  fingers,  a  tempest  barely  contained  within  a  girl.  of  all  the  social  media  platforms,  they’re  definitely  most  obsessed  with  their  INSTAGRAM;  probably  because  they’re  SELF-RELIANT,  but  also  INTROSPECTIVE.  however,  on  the  new  manifest  app  in  mr.  carlos’  english  class,  they’ve  already  managed  to  anonymously  steal  the  username:  NIMUE.  ❞ ┊ 「  bee,  19,  est,  she/her.  」
PINTEREST  !!
rec·u·sant  (  noun.  )   a  person  who  refuses  to  submit  to  an  authority  or  to  comply  with  a  regulation.
aka  just  a  fancy  way  of  saying  rebel  !
(  rain  on  dark  windowpanes,  the ��heavy  sweetness  of  red  wine,  ink-stained  fingers,  greyish  purple  of  dawn,  cold  bones,  fastening  the  clasp  of  a  silver  necklace.  dark  curls  escaping  from  pins,  starched  white  shirts  under  wool  coats,  cold  coffee  dregs  and  burnt  out  matches  from  a  guilty  cigarette.  fog  over  the  scottish  moor,  the  soft  tick  of  a  grandfather  clock,  stars  peeking  through  an  overcast  sky,  the  stark  echo  of  a  single  violin.  the  pages  of  a  book  turning  in  a  library  past  midnight.  holy  places  long  since  abandoned,  the  simmering  wildness  of  a  bird  caged,  and  the  ancient  ache  for  freedom.  a  tempest  barely  contained  within  a  girl.  )
PRE-HOGWARTS  !!
andromeda  &  her  mother  have  what  u  can  call  a  strained  relationship.  from  her  moment  of  birth,  druella  saw  everything  andromeda  did  as  an  act  of  rebellion,  whether  it  was  a  childish  question  asked  in  the  wrong  place  at  the  wrong  time,  or  getting  so  absorbed  in  a  book  she  forgot  to  come  down  for  dinner,  or  a  bit  of  accidental  wandless  magic  born  out  of  a  moment  of  frustration.  every  day  was  a  trial  against  andromeda,  with  her  parents  acting  as  the  judge,  jury  and  executioner,  &  over  and  over  again  she  was  found  GUILTY.
andromeda  never  meant  to  defy  her  mother,  at  first,  but  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried  to  please  druella,  nothing  she  ever  did  was  quite  good  enough.  there  was  always  some  fault,  whether  it  was  a  lock  of  hair  tumbling  free  from  its  pin,  a  corset  come  unlaced,  posture  ruined  from  hunching  over  a  book.  her  wrists  were  too  bony,  her  lips  were  too  thin,  her  skin  too  easily  flushed. 
[  TW  ABUSE  ]   it  didn’t  escape  andromeda’s  notice  that  every  flaw  her  mother  criticized  was  one  druella  shared  as  well,  and  when  she  grew  older  she  realized  her  mother’s  dissatisfaction  with  andromeda  was  merely  a  product  of  her  own  dissatisfaction  with  herself.  but  that  didn’t  feed  her  the  nights  she  was  denied  dinner  for  her  ‘ misbehaviour ’.  it  didn’t  take  back  the  days  andromeda  went  unable  to  speak  thanks  to  a  punitive  silencio,  and  it  didn’t  grant  andromeda’s  wish  to  have  a  real  mother  who  loved  her.   [  END  TW  ]
did  druella  love  her  children  ? who  knows.  maybe  she  did,  in  her  own  twisted  way.  but   druella  was  first  and  foremost  a  business  woman,  and  her  main  trade  was  her  daughters.  andromeda  grew  up  listening  to  endless  warnings  that  her  mother  would  “ never  be  able  to  find  andromeda  a  husband  if  … ”  and  then  came  whichever  grievance  she’d  chosen  to  focus  on  that  day.
it  cannot  come  as  a  surprise  that  andromeda  learned  to  live  in  the  shadows,  away  from  her  mother’s  disapproving  glare;  that  she  learned  to  rely  on  herself  and  herself  only,  that  she  learned  to  watch  &  observe  &  test  the  waters,  to  think  before  acting.  (  of  course,  druella  did  not  approve  of  this  either,  and  informed  andromeda  that  no  man  would  want  a  girl  who  was  so  serious  all  the  time.  )
her  parents  often  dragged  her  and  her  sisters  to  various  pureblood  functions,  where  andromeda  stood  off  to  the  side  in  uncomfortably  starched  dresses,  disappearing  like  smoke  any  time  someone  looked  like  they  were  heading  over  to  strike  up  conversation.  she  would  explore  the  pureblood  manors,  all  silent  footsteps  &  watchful  eyes,  making  observations  on  how  the  wizarding  world’s  elite  lived  their  lives,  noting  separate  beds  in  the  master  bedrooms  &  half-empty  whiskey  bottles  in  the  washrooms.  it  seemed  like  everyone  was  only  looking  out  for  themselves  in  this  world,  trying  to  further  their  own  social  status  and  wealth.
at  home,  she  would  escape  to  the  roof  with  a  book,  whether  it  was  a  history  of  warlocks  or  the  kind  of  torrid  romance  novel  druella  pretended  she  didn’t  read,  dark  eyes  hardly  looking  up  as  the  sun  sank  lower  in  the  sky,  fingers  blackened  with  ink  by  the  time  she  closed  her  book  and  descended  into  the  house  to  face  her  mother’s  wrath  that  she  missed  her  piano  lessons.
is  it  strange  that  such  a  cynical  girl  could  have  such  a  yearning  for  beautiful  things  ?  or  would  that  merely  be  a  side  effect  of  cynicism,  to  long  for  something  to  thaw  a  hardened  heart  ?  andromeda  loved  beautiful  things,  perhaps  a  bit  too  much,  but  she  did  not  trust  them.  nothing  beautiful  was  made  to  last,  and  if  it  was,  it  wasn’t  truly  beautiful.  sunsets  faded  to  darkness,  books  ended,  lovers  grew  apart.  the  inherent  transience  of  beauty  made  andromeda  crave  it  all  the  more.  
HOGWARTS  !!
hogwarts  was  a  breath  of  fresh  air  for  andromeda,  the  chance  to  experience  life  outside  her  parents’  regime.  to  her  inquisitive,  probing  nature,  an  ancient,  magical  castle  full  of  history  &  secrets  was  paradise,  let  alone  all  the  classes  it  housed.  and  the  people  —  andromeda  had  never  seen  so  many  people  in  her  lifetime.  hundreds  &  hundreds  of  students  filled  the  castle,  all  with  their  own  thoughts  and  lives  and  desires.  an  introvert  by  nature,  she  didn’t  interact,  merely  observed.  she  made  best  friends  with  the  library  &  the  constellations,  sneaking  out  of  the  dorm  to  sit  with  her  legs  dangling  over  the  fifty-foot  drop  of  the  astronomy  tower,  eyes  finding  her  constellation,  andromeda,  and  wondering  if  her  fate  was  written  in  the  stars  too;  drunk  on  the  beauty  of  an  untamed  scottish  night.
the  unidentifiable  yearning  she’d  always  kept  tucked  inside  a  corner  of  her  heart  ballooned  until  she  could  hardly  stand  it.  it  was  a  yearning  to  be  something  more  than  the  perfect  pureblood  wife  her mother  was  trying  to  groom  her  to  be,  a  thirst  to  prove  herself  in  some  way  she  didn’t  even  understand  yet,  and  it  was  this  ambition  &  drive  that  got  her  sorted  into  slytherin.
if  druella  &  cygnus  had  thought  andromeda  was  unmanageable  before  hogwarts ,  when  she  wasn’t  even  trying  to  be,  she  was  downright  wild  when  she  returned  for  winter  break  in  first  year.  now  that  she  knew  life  could  be  better  than  what  she  was  currently  living  at  home,  she  buzzed  with  a  restless  energy  that  alarmed  her  parents.  andromeda  may  have  been  troublesome  before,  but  this  was  bordering  on  dangerous.  druella  made  the  decision  that  andromeda  would  not  be  returning  to  hogwarts.  [  ABUSE  TW  ]  this  sparked  one  of  the  worst  fights  they’d  ever  had,  and  culminated  in  a  rare  but  unforgiving  physical  beating.  [  END  TW  ]  
eventually  druella  conceded,  and  andromeda  was  allowed  to  return,  but  she  was  much  more  cautious  now.  she  only  made  friends  who  her  parents  would  approve  of,  she  kept  her  nose  clean,  and  at  home,  she  played  the  part  of  the  dutiful  daughter.  there  were  still  small  rebellions,  though  —  long  curls  cut  short  with  a  silver  flash  of  the  kitchen  scissors;  a  nicked  pack  of  her  father’s  cigarettes  smoked  cross-legged  on  the  roof,  coughing  into  her  fist  so  nobody  would  hear.  as  she  got  older,  she  paired  the  cigarettes  &  book  with  red  wine ,  the  finest  she  dared  steal  without  risk  of  being  caught.  this  was  her  escape,  her  small  patch  of  beauty  in  an  ugly  world.
andromeda  keeps  to  herself  at  hogwarts  as  much  as  she  can.  the  only  people  she  spent  time  with  were  those  her  parents  approved  of,  and  she  didn’t  like  most  of  them.  she  threw  herself  into  her  schoolwork  instead,  easily  landing  herself  a  spot  among  the  top  students.  
but  she  loves  hogwarts,  loves  it  with  all  her  heart,  as  so  many  abused  children  do  –  it’s  a  safe  haven,  a  place  where  she  can  at  least  pretend  she’s  free.  she  loves  learning  everything  that  she  can  (  in  fact,  she  was  very  nearly  sorted  into  ravenclaw  ).  her  favourite  place  to  be  is  the  astronomy  tower,  and  she  still  escapes  there  whenever  she’s  feeling  a  bit  too  claustrophobic.
she  was  chosen  to  be  a  slytherin  prefect  for  her  year  and  although  she  thought  she  wouldn’t  like  it,  she’s  grown  to  enjoy  the  position.  not  for  the  power  it  gives  her  over  her  fellow  students,  but  for  the  escape  it  brings.  she  can  associate  with  people  she  would  normally  never  talk  to,  and  roam  the  castle  freely  past  curfew.  and  andromeda  isn’t  a  naturally  nurturing  person,  but  she’s  found  that  she  enjoys  talking  to  and  helping  the  younger  years.  she  sees  their  wonder  at  hogwarts  in  their  eyes,  the  same  wonder  that  she  felt,  and  has  grown  quite  protective  over  quite  a  few  of  them.
she’s technically in slug club, due to her prowess in potions and her illustrious family name, although she hardly ever goes – she does not like slughorn at all, nor most of the people he’s selected to be in his little club. other than that, however, andromeda doesn’t make a habit of joining clubs or teams or anything that would involve her being forced to interact with people.
PERSONALITY  !!
those  who  don’t  know  andromeda  might  say  she’s  aloof,  proud,  detached,  all  flint  eyes  &  sharp  edges.  and  they  wouldn’t  be  wrong.  andromeda’s  habit  of  keeping  to  the  shadows  has  carried  on  into  her  hogwarts  years,  and  as  an  introvert,  her  solitary  nature  can  sometimes  come  off  as  downright  anti-social.  she’s  naturally  pensive,  and  her  pensive  face  just  so  happens  to  look  pissed  off.  
she  finds  it  hard  to  trust  people.  she’s  so  used  to  a  world  shaped  by  selfishness  that  she  rarely  meets  someone  she  doesn’t  suspect  of  having  ulterior  motives.  after  all ,  beautiful  people,  like  beautiful  things,  are  temporary.  everyone  turns  ugly  sooner  or  later;  everyone’s  claws  are  eventually  revealed. 
andromeda  carries  an  unmistakable  air  of  wealth  that,  although  entirely  unintentional,  can  rub  people  the  wrong  way.  she  has  a  taste  for  the  finer  things  in  life  —  an  aged  wine,  a  silken  scarf  —  and  sees  no  reason  why  she  shouldn’t  enjoy  them.  she’s  well  read  &  well  bred,  and  has  a  vocabulary  and  accent  that  can  seem  pretentious  to  some.
but  those  who  do  know  andromeda,  those  precious,  precious  few,  know  of  her  vivacity,  her  independent  streak,  her  love  of  learning,  her  dry  humour,  the  dimples  that  appear  with  every  mischievous  smile.  they  know  the  fire  she’s  kept  hidden  in  her  heart  for  so  long,  and  the  proud,  apathetic  mask  she  slips  on  so  easily  whenever  she’s  hurting.
MODERNISMS  !!
listen  as  much  as  i  love  the  idea  of  andromeda  in  a  modern  age,  it’s  mostly  just  bc  of  the  wealth  of  information  that’s  available  to  her  ?  like  staying  up  ages  watching  random  ass  videos  &  falling  into  a  black  hole  of  wikipedia  articles  &  having  12  languages  on  duolingo  and  a  streak  on  khan  academy.  fuckn  nerd  ass
but  social  media  ?  not  for  this  bitch  !!  i  really  have  Tried  to  get  her  to  use  social  media  so  i  can  do  fun  sc  threads  &  such  but  she  wont  listen  to  me  smh.  u  know  when  u  meet  someone  cute  &  you’re  trying  to  stalk  them  online  but  they  either  dont  have  any  social  media  or  it’s  just  like  an  empty  acct  with  no  posts  ?  shes  that  bitch.  she’ll  text  people  but  she  hates  the  like  ….  publicity  of  social  media.  doesnt  trust  fb  at  all  (  and  she  shouldnt  !!  zuck  shes  onto  u  )  and  probably  has  a  snapchat  someone  made  her  get  but  she  consistently  replies  like  3  days  late,  breaks  streaks,  has  a  snapscore  of  like  304.  what  a  mess.  shes  a  grandma.  understands  &  enjoys  memes  but  never  uses  them  or  references  them.  if  andromeda  black  references  a  meme  around  u  then  u  know  she  trusts  u  implicitly
she’s  wary  but  intrigued  by  this  new  english  class.  she  dreads  to  think  of  the  reaction  it’s  getting  from  pureblood  families  like  hers,  but  she  recognizes  this  for  what  it  is:  an  escape.  an  opportunity.  
she  chose  her  username  nimue  after  the  famed  lady  of  the  lake  from  the  stories  of  king  arthur  and  the  round  table.  she’d  loved  those  stories  as  a  child,  and  was  especially  drawn  to  the  mysterious  witch,  half-good  and  half-bad,  who  trapped  the  kingdom’s  most  powerful  wizard  inside  a  tree  to  gain  her  independence,  who  gifted  the  king  with  his  famed  sword,  who  was  there  when  the  great  golden  age  of  the  kingdom  rose  and  who  was  there  when  it  fell.
OTHER  !!
gender / sexuality:  cis  female / bisexual
birthday / zodiac:  jan  11 / capricorn
mbti:  intj
moral  alignment:  chaotic  neutral
temperament:  melancholic
patronus:  raven
amortentia:  dried  ink,  pine,  petrichor,  dark  chocolate
that  was  ???  ridic  long  so  bless  u  if  you  read  all  of  that  mess.  im  Too  Lazy  to  list  wanted  connections  rn,  maybe  i’ll  do  that  later  who  knows.  but  anyways  pls  plot  w  me  &  let  me  love  u  down
6 notes · View notes