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#i named her after my oc who's named after.. the woman in the... bible i guess
abeluser · 7 months
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ruthy is so silly
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angelicadamposting · 3 months
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Evangeline - Adam’s Third Wife (Angel Form)
Evangeline-Juliette Antoinette de France
first look at my oc (started as a s/i for my f/o but evolved okay)
art by @w0nderous !! (tysm again <3)
I really want to post some of my writing/fan fiction about her and Adam but I don’t know how embarrassing it would be. character sheet below tho :3
Additionally I do have two timelines for her ! This one & one where she falls and becomes a ‘sinner’ but I need to commission art of her sinner form !!
CW: d3ath mentioned, uhh historical fiction,
Basic Info
Name: Evangeline (Formerly Evangeline-Juliette Antionette de France) Species: Angel / Divine Soul (Formerly Human) Physical Age: 22 Birth Date: November 26, 1780 Death Year: 1802 Height: 4'11 ft or 150 cm MBTI: INFJ
Likes
Reading
Adam (Duh)
Sweets
Bread
Ballroom Dancing
Helping/Supporting Others
Cooking (Despite Failing)
Music (Listening)
Singing
Fashion
Shopping
Dislikes
Being Kept in the Dark/Lied To
Senseless Violence
Being Alone
Surprises
Silence
Spicy or even just Unfamiliar Foods
Being Belittled or Disrespected
Cemeteries
‘Ugly people’ - adam
Insects
Clutter
Overview/Backstory(before heaven)
Evangeline was born as a peasant in France, her parents each working beneath King Louis VXI and Queen Marie Antionette. At a young age, Evangeline and her elder sister were chosen to become Marie's daughter's playmates. A common practice for nobles of the ra to find a commoner to befriend their child to socialize with them, however, the Queen chose to do this to teach her daughter empathy. After several years of spending day after day at the side of the Princess, her mother passed away. Stricken with responsibility and a heart bigger than the public knew, Marie Antionette adopted Evangeline and her elder sister. Quickly moving the two into the Palace of Versailles and giving each of them new names based on her favorite books, Evangeline now being called Juliette by her adopted mother based on 'Les Lettres de Juliette Catesby (1759)' by Marie Jeanne Riccoboni.
Despite being treated with the same maternal care and affection as Marie's biological daughter, Evangeline nor her elder sister were ever granted titles. Instead, the two were often referred to by others in the palace as 'the girls who always accompany Princess Marie-Therese.' This never bothered Evangeline, the young girl only thankful for the affection and opportunity within the palace. Her new mother gave her access to literature, teaching her to read as soon as possible, and teaching her daughter how to love books just as she did. It was at this time that Evangeline began to read the bible and learn other languages.
When the political unrest within France grew and the royal family attempted to flee, Evangeline and her sister were sent to the countryside to live with their biological father until the family returned shortly after failing the attempt. The unrest only grew, however, resulting in the Queen instructing another member of the French Court to take Evangeline and her sister to safety. The two living with the Mackau family during the height of the revolution and during their adopted parent's executions, their biological father shortly following in their footsteps due to his association with the King.
It wasn't until age 17 that Evangeline was released from legal guardianship, and permission to use the pension from her deceased adoptive parents as she wished. For the first time, the young woman was on her own in the world, and her name had been changed back to match that of her biological parents instead of the royal family. She moved to Saint-Denis in Paris to live close to her sister, the only person she even knew anymore.
For years, the young woman lived alone, unsure of what direction her life was meant to go in. Everything had been set up for her, prepared for her since she had been adopted. Things were always taken care of for her, a future decided for her even when she was under legal guardianship by the Mackau family. Near overnight everything changed, her whole life flipped upside down and every adult with a parental role in her eyes was gone. She spent her days reading, visiting with her neighbors, and feeding the strays while her sister began a family, at least being married off. It wasn't until 1802 when a group of soldiers traveled through her city, ones she just had to run into on the street, unknowingly spread yellow fever throughout Saint-Denis.
Early winter that year, Evangeline passed away in her home with no one but her faith and sister at her side. Without even a good story to tell, the young woman went to sleep to never wake up in the mortal realm again. However, she instead awoke before the pearly gates. She was greeted by St. Peter, who quickly checked his book to find her name, and brought through the gates quickly. Passing through the gates, Evangeline's senses were overloaded by the bright aura that emitted off the grand, beautiful structures softly sat atop the clouds. Almost causing her to miss the other angels themselves, as her eyes danced from billboard to fountain and so on. (that ended up longer than intended, maybe 2 many details)
Notable Relationships
Adam: The First Man Evangeline initially wasn't the biggest fan of Adam when they first met, as crude and obnoxious as he was, although over time she began to notice herself laughing at his annoying comments instead of cringing. She was probably the one to fall for him first, much to her dismay; Although she wouldn't be the first to make a move. Internally and externally she denied the fact she'd grown to care for him, enjoyed his crass humor, and couldn't stand how quiet things were when he wasn't around. After several months of relentless seemingly one-sided flirting from Adam, Evangeline relented, eventually reciprocating his advances. Although, due to her embarrassment she attempted to keep their entanglement a secret, which did not last long, when Lute opened the door of Adam's office one evening and caught the two getting heated. After this, the two made their relationship official and it became known within heaven among both the angels of lower and higher status. Despite her initial uncertainty, after what felt like no time the couple engaged before being married in 'holy matrimony.' Due to Adam's history regarding Eve and Lilith, Evangeline vowed to always stay by his side as his wife and support him. She never wanted to turn out like the two who hurt the only man who ever made her laugh or feel loved since she died before ever finding someone in life. The biggest problem within their relationship arises 200 years after they marry, due to the fact Adam kept the exterminations a secret from her their entire marriage. Truthfully, the only reason she ever learned of them was by chance and staying up 'overnight' during the yearly extermination, a night she had always viewed as the one day Adam took work seriously. This was why she stayed up late, waiting for him to get back with Lute so she could see him and ask how it went, even if she didn't know truly what it was his 'job' was. While waiting, she heard the door open followed by the voices of Adam and Lute. The two were happily chatting about slaughtering hundreds of souls, sinners specifically, but still. The revelation that her husband and someone she'd considered her closest friend were capable of such acts horrified Evangeline and caused her to rush toward them with a million questions. Lute pretty quickly excused herself, claiming this was Adam's problem, and leaving the couple to argue in privacy. They went back and forth on the ethics of it, the purpose, and how it could possibly be justified. 'It's to protect us! To protect Heaven and all of us angels here! Those sinners and demons want to uprise, you don't even get it-' All of his excuses seemed to fall onto deaf ears, as Evangeline shook her head in denial and led the argument until daybreak. Eventually, she began to kind of understand his supposed perspective. Thinking of the revolution and uprising that caused what she had always known to be a loving family to be torn apart, she chose to trust Adam and the other angels who made the decisions regarding the exterminations.
Lute Evangeline met Lute at the same time she met Adam, in fact, she walked right past Adam to introduce herself to Lute with a warm smile and handshake. Lute was apprehensive at first, uneasy with what seemed like sickly sweet kindness that radiated off the new angel. However, once she viewed how she reacted to Adam and was nearly forced to spend time with her; Lute began to consider Evangeline a friend. The two often spend their free time away from Adam together, whether that be talking shit or shopping. The second of the two options was less of a favorite of the exorcist angel, although she seemed to enjoy the food portions of their shopping trips. Often times one will try to invest the other in one of their own hobbies, like Evangeline's singing or Lute's combat practice; Each resulting in humorous situations for the friends. When Evangeline learns of the exterminations, and about who/what Lute really is, she's initially hurt by the fact her only actual friend had kept such a secret from her. (even if it was ordered and literally a part of the rules.) A wedge nearly being thrown between them, until Lute finally explains the fact there are rules regarding the exterminations and how only the exorcist angels and seraphim really know. While this explanation makes sense, Evangeline accepts this and tries to move on. In the end, learning the truth caused the two women to become better friends now that Lute truly could open up to someone else and not have to rely on Adam as the only one who knew the truth. - Okay, this was way longer than intended !! if you actually read all the way to here, thank you for taking the time !!
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skelebellie · 3 months
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say hello to the rebirth of my hazbin hotel hyperfixation!!!! (this is definitely not related to severe trauma to the church i swear officer)
introducing Cecil (sona) and Petra (oc). i put some info on the images if you want to look their but if you want to here my manic rambling click the spoiler below. but i do have the other four horsemen designs lined up, as well as another oc (this is basically bible fanfiction).
i have so many sketches i have been planning this for too long
CECIL OF PESTILENCE
LIVING LIFE
Cecil grew up during the 1930’s and 40’s, and by today’s standards, was autistic. Their ‘strange’ mannerisms and fixation on understanding how the body worked lead them to being labeled as ‘insane’. Despite that, their father had enough wealth to force them into an arranged marriage, where the few interactions they had with the man lead to abuse and arguments. A proverbial echo of their own father. Luckily for them their husband got his lustful fixings from other woman, and Cecil was able to avoid any intimate interaction with him. However, they found solstice and safety as working as a Mortician to their grandmothers funeral home. There they honed their knowledge. Nonetheless, they desired more, and the raving concept of a 1950’s nuclear family did nothing to help them attain a higher education. So, in a desperate attempt to satiate the itch, they turned to disposing of bodies for local crime organizations. This allowed them to run experiments and explore areas they typically weren’t allowed to as a plain mortician.
In 1951, they met Petra, an albino woman who came into funeral home to organize a funeral for her (certainly not first) deceased husband. She was surprised to see that the head of the funeral home was a woman, and the two hit it off. Petra was delighted to meet someone who had such a strange interpretation of death, illness, and sickness. However, their time in the living world was cut short. One night, after performing an autopsy on a ‘donated’ body, Cecil’s husband discovered what they were doing. In a rage he killed them before using the funeral homes tools to dismember them and disposed of their body in a local landfill. Their body has never been found.
TIME IN HELL
Cecil landed in hell in 1957 following their death. Body stitched together like a makeshift zombie, an echo of the illegal cadavers they obtained as well as the dismemberment that took place. They fell down clutching a 1950’s gas mask, almost like a comfort from the living world. While initially scared, they knew how to avoid confrontation. They had spent their life dealing with members of the mafia and gangs, so they knew how to pass off as a frail woman. Nonetheless, they were happy to have not ended up in heaven. After being raised with god as a reason for abuse and discipline, they couldn’t dare think of staying in such a hypocrital paradise. Cecil was delighted to see all these new ‘specimens’, their anatomy much different than the cadavers they had previously worked on.
However, they still were very powerless upon arrival. It’s fortunate that the friend they called Petra was actually Pestilence, one of the Four Horsemen of the (currently on-hold) Apocalypse. Despite Petras responsibilities, they came to Hell and tried to make sure they one and only friend survived and could live semi-comfortably. Their friendship being as strong as to form a deal between souls. The two promised that they would always be there for each other, even in death (litterally). Heaven, upon finding out that one of the ‘neutral’ celestial bodies was spending time in Hell got increasingly nervous. So, as to not allow Hell to have an upper hand, they killed Petra during an annual extermination. However, their deal remained, and the title of Pestilence transferred to Cecil, though severely weakened.
Over the last 40 years the name Cecil has been spreading, albeit only to a small sect of desperate sinners. ‘On Clarence Street, in the south side of Hell is a small store known as Cecils Curiosities and Oddities. If you ever find yourself at the end of your rope, go there.’ Though, be careful. Cecil is rarely one to make deals for a soul, but dont be surprised if you end up with a missing body part. You wont die- but the higher the ask the higher the cost. Cecil loves to explore demon kind.
At the beginning of the Hazbin Hotel timeline, Cecil found themselves passing a Vox Tech store. A small add ran- one for a hotel for the rehabilitation of sinners. To their surprise, they saw a flash of a certain black, white, and red cat in the background. One which they were far too familiar with and had been missing for months. It didnt take long for them to stomp their way to the hotel, looking for who they called ‘Huskert’. Much to the annoyance of Husk, a certain lab-coated sinner had found him once more. One who had saved his life during the disappearance of Alastor, and begrudgingly, stuck around.
While Cecil doesn’t want to be redeemed, they admire Charlies ambition. They have been pretty bored, and can only let Rosie dress them up for so long before they need new stimulation. Husk, not 100% certain as to what the Radio Demon had planned for him, asked Cecil to stick around. ‘As fucked up as you may be, I know if I got shot you could patch me right up.’ So, after some convincing (and begging from Charlie), they decided to stay as an impromptu doctor. As long as they were at the hotel no one would die of grave injuries, internal or external.
PESTILENCE (PETRA)
The Four Horsemen are one of the few celestial bodies which can travel between the realms of Heaven, Hell, and Earth. Though, they typically spend most of their time on the mortal realm, often indulging in observation as they watch humanity go through stages of sickness, war, famine, and death. Petra, however, was seemingly obsessed with humanity. They were never one to visit Heaven or Hell unless one of their siblings called for them. After the whole ‘Apocalypse’ was put on-hold, they’ve spent their immortal life as a married wife to whatever old-human was festering with illness before they died, resulting in a long line of fortune. Though, it seems as if no one can remember them for long. At the height of the Polio pandemic, and after another entertaining show of sickness, Petra stepped into the closest funeral home in order to burry the man. As much as they didnt mind throwing the old sap into a river, their older sister Death would give them quite the earful.
However, they were delighted to see a small human woman running the funeral home. A rarity in the 1950’s, especially with everyone wanting that disgustingly perfect family life. A glimpse into their soul showed something a tad bit different than the typical human. A person obsessed with thinking that they have a sickness and should be cured, but enamored with death and illness. Though, Petra knew this ‘sickness’ was just a swap of wires, they were fascinated with this double bladed human. The two, much to Petras surprise, hit it off. Unlike most humans Petra could talk for hours about the spread of plagues, the sweep of civilizations, end of life through a simple rat, and this little thing known as ‘Cecil’ looked enamoured.
For the first time since their creation, they felt understood, looked at.
But their time was cut short, upon finding that their one and only friend was ‘missing’. It didnt take them long to realize they had been disposed of. Much to their despair, they couldn’t kill the shitty husband, rules put in place to prevent the Four Hoursmen from interfering with humanity. But they knew Cecil wouldn’t be in heaven, no- that higher realm wouldn’t be able to handle that. So despite their better judgement, they went to Hell. It was a bit of a surprise, but Cecil seemed surprisingly okay with it, as long as Petra remained their friend. Petra spent the next 20 years guiding Cecil, making sure they lived semi-comfortably and teaching them about the intricacies of sinners lest they loose their soul. While they may go months apart, Petra was always there at the yearly exterminations to make sure their friend wouldn’t perish.
However, Heaven did not stand idly by as one of the powerful ‘neutral’ celestial bodies began spending more and more time in Hell. So soon after the stomped out uprising of Hell as well? Fear gripped the heavenly body, a Horseman could not take sides with Hell. Thus during the next extermination, Petra was killed, a shaking Cecil hidden in an alleyway forced to watch the one person they loved ripped from them. Though, their deal remained. They would remain with each other, even in death.
With a Horseman gone, tides began to shift in the mortal realm. So, as to prevent this from happening again, a new Horseman was created, known as Conquest. Made from the ashes of angels and humans, Conquest took the place of Pestilence. But they seemed… weaker than the original Horseman. Nonetheless, Heaven was to blind to see their hypocrisy, and the remaning three original siblings of the apocalypse have stayed in the mortal realm.
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arcadian-litterateur · 4 months
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rivers run dry | gally x oc
masterlist
summary: the four times gally cried in the glade, and one time he cried while escaping it.
word count: 4k
warnings: suicide, death, suicidal thoughts, nightmares, knives, blood, bodily fluids
a/n: so gally is my sweet baby boy and i have a feeling he masks his feelings and never lets himself cry. this one shot started out from that basic idea and then i decided to add in a love interest oc. jaelin is definitely flawed as you'll see, but she's also my baby and i will probably write more about her.
jaelin is named after "jael" from the bible. when israel was getting attacked by (some foreign army), the guy in charge of the israelite soldiers chickened out, and the leader of the attackers escaped, but jael, an israelite woman, lured him into her tent and was like "take a nap here while i make you a snack" and then while he was asleep she hammered a tent peg through his temple (he died lol). so she became the hero of the battle! pretty badass, if you ask me.
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jaelin is played by jasmin savoy brown
In all his time in the Glade, Gally had only cried four times. He'd felt close to tears hundreds of times; at least once a week if not once a day, but the tears only fell four times. He only let them fall four times.
The first time Gally cried in the Glade was when he came up in the Box. He was jammed into the tight, confined space with what seemed to be twenty other boys, with no memory of who he was and the sinking feeling that he was hurtling up towards death. The smells of vomit, sweat, and urine mingled in the air, Gally unsure if his neighbor had pissed himself or if Gally himself was the culprit. When the Box slammed to a halt, the possibility that he'd pissed his pants became less of a priority, the crying and yelling of the boys pausing when a tall boy at the front climbed out of the Box to check their surroundings.
“It's a clearing, surrounded by walls too high to climb,” the boy observed, as he scanned the dark, evening-shadowed Glade. “But nothing too dangerous. It looks like it's made to be lived in.” At this affirmation of safety, the sweaty boys started clambering to leave the confined space. Gally hung back, not wanting to be trampled—or, considering his large frame, accidentally trample someone else. Eventually though, he was pulled out of the Box with the other stragglers, a wiry, tall boy with sharp eyes and brown hair taking control. Thin, wire-frame glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Trying to assess the situation, the boy asked,
“Does anyone remember anything?” A chorus of names rang out but no other information seemed retrievable, some boys still at a loss for what their names were. Gally had remembered his name as an older, dark-skinned boy had helped him out of the Box. “I'm Nick,” the self-appointed leader stated. “That's all I remember, and it seems like whoever put us here might have made us forget everything on purpose.” A murmur of agreement rose amongst the group, one blond boy remarking,
“They've given us supplies to start a homestead in this Glade, whoever they are.” Gally noticed an interesting lilt in his voice. He was British. Gally also noticed that he was right. The supplies in the Box were for building; starting a life here…and that scared Gally.
The dark-skinned boy who'd helped Gally out of the Box was standing next to Nick, obviously taking the spot of Second-in-Command. He addressed the group, “My name's Alby. And I think this blondie here is right. What's your name, Blondie?”
“Newt,” the Brit answered.
“Like a lizard?” another kid spoke up. Newt rolled his eyes,
“No. It's short for Newton. I just have this feeling that I was always just Newt, before. Whatever before was.”
“Newt, it is, then,” the other boy shrugged. “I'm George.”
“Alright, introductions later,” Nick interrupted. “For now, let's unload the Box. Then we'll figure out where to go from there.” In robotic, shocked motions, the boys got to work, Gally's mind numb and void of memories, but buzzing with an odd feeling about something important.
It hit him then, how shitty and confusing this situation was. He felt so utterly alone. He had this sinking feeling that loneliness had been a common variable in his before, and he had a feeling that would remain true even now, in the Glade.
Much to Gally's chagrin, tears pricked his eyes as the panic caused by the amnesia found a grip around his heart. The boy tried to hold the tears back for as long as possible, but the desire—the need—to cry was overpoweringly large, and as quick as they'd formed, droplets were rolling down Gally's face and onto his shirt.
Gally was sobbing, and anyone could see him.
Newt was the only one brave enough to approach Gally. Every other boy in the Glade had shrunk back, obviously intimidated by Gally's height and strength, despite his current state. However, Gally's height advantage over everyone but Alby didn't seem to intimidate Newt.
“Hey, Bud, are you alright?” Newt asked, placing a gentle hand on Gally's broad shoulder. It took Gally a second or two to gain enough composure to whisper,
“Yeah.” Of course, that was a lie; none of them were fine, but Newt let it slide.
“What's your name?” the British boy inquired.
“Gally.”
“Well, it's nice to meet you, Gally. You're pretty strong, it looks like. Care to help move and sort these building supplies?” The offer was an olive branch, and Gally knew that he wouldn't be judged for refusing and staying here to cry some more. But the word “building” seemed to reignite a spark in him; give him a reason to get up.
“I think I'm supposed to build stuff, he mumbled, the epiphany lighting up a once-dull face with hopeful determination.
Newt looked surprised, but then grinned, declaring, “Then build, you will!” He offered a hand to Gally, who let himself be pulled to his feet. Newt looked his age—maybe younger, even—but there was a nurturing air about him that made Gally trust him enough to follow him.
Drying his tears, Gally followed Newt to the building materials, ready to jump right in.
The second time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin told him she wanted to die. Jaelin was the only female Glader, and her intended role was still unclear—at least, as far as what the Creators wanted. However, she'd adjusted well during her first year in the Glade, almost becoming “one of the boys.” She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested in romance, and was badass enough to kick your ass if you tried anything funny. The first two guys were humiliated enough for all the other Gladers to get the memo—you did not mess with Jaelin.
Jaelin could see past Gally's tough exterior to the light within, even when he couldn't see it himself. She had this talent of bringing out the best in him. In everyone. He trusted her with his life. All his struggles, secrets, and slip-ups were hers to know.
He always felt extra special when she'd share something in return, but he never could've prepared himself for the way Jaelin's sunny face dropped, her body slumping against his as she mumbled, “I'm so tired of all of this. Of the monotony. The loneliness. I want to end it.”
Gally's heart immediately skipped a beat, his mind racing as he muttered, “No, no, Jaelin. No, you can't. Jaelin, please.” The teenage girl just looked up at him pleadingly, those doe eyes filled with desperation.
“Gally, you don't get it. You don't understand what it's like.”
“I know I don't, but I care too much to let you give up,” he argued, unsure of how to show her that she was needed. A blurry image of him chiseling a line through her name popped into his head, and he felt tears rush to his eyes, seemingly out of the blue. “I know it's selfish as hell, Jae, but I can't lose you,” Gally confessed. “I don't know how I'd survive without you.”
Almost of their own accord, his arms wrapped around Jaelin, enveloping her in a warm, secure embrace. She didn't fight it, slowly wrapping her own arms around Gally's waist. She could feel his face pressed into her hair—which she didn't mind, seeing as her face was smushed against his chest—and from the vibrations of his sternum, Jaelin had a feeling the boy was crying. She'd never witnessed him crying before. She knew he was being exceptionally vulnerable, all in an attempt to reach her and pull her from such dark depths.
Gally knew his tears were dripping down his face and onto Jaelin's hair, and he truly hoped she didn't mind, because there was no way he was letting go. He'd hold onto Jaelin for the rest of time to keep her safe, if need be.
“Jaelin, please don't go,” he murmured, body shaking as tears poured from his eyes. “I'll do anything.” Gally felt the girl's body go completely lax as a small wet mark appeared on his shirt, right where her eyes were. She was crying, too. “Jae?” he asked, concerned.
“I'm okay,” came the soft reply, Gally becoming hyper aware of Jaelin's warm breath blowing across his chest through his thin shirt. Gally's hand automatically found her hair, running through it in soothing repetition. Of course, he'd done that before, but this was a different dynamic. A different purpose. Not playful or teasing, just “I love you and I'm here.”
“Are you?” Gally questioned. It wasn't that he didn't believe her—far from it—but he just wanted to make sure she had a good grasp on her mental state.
“Well, I'm doing better than a few minutes ago,” Jaelin clarified. Gally nodded,
“Good. Now, is it safe for me to let you go? You're going to be smart, right? You're not going to try to hurt yourself, right?”
“Right,” Jaelin agreed. “I'm going to help you finish Builders' inventory, and then eat dinner with you, and then hang out with you.” As she said this, Jaelin used her long sleeves to dry Gally's face of the remaining tears he'd shed for her, the small but kind gesture making the teenage boy's heart soar.
“That sounds like a good plan,” he chuckled, standing up and pulling Jaelin up with him.
“Where to, Captain Gally?” the girl joked. Gally laughed, accepting her offer to link arms.
“To storage!” And off the mismatched pair went.
The third time Gally cried in the Glade was when he was stung. Now, Gally wasn't stupid—he knew that as a non-Runner, he wasn't allowed to enter the Maze. And Gally, being the stickler for rules that he was, would over the rule of the Glade till his dying breath.
But, of course, everyone has a weakness. Everyone has something that would make them risk it all, just to secure some kind of finality for whatever that something is. Or in Gally's case, someone. Jaelin.
Looking back, it was clear to Gally that Jaelin was just as much of a rule-follower as he was. Jaelin would never enter the Maze when the rules clearly forbid it. She appreciated order; swore by it. No, Gally should never have thought that Jaelin might have entered the Maze. It wasn't in her nature. And he learned from this mistake; Gally did. Yes, he suffered for it dearly.
It had been a few weeks since Jaelin had opened up about being suicidal, and much to Gally's relief, she'd remained open and happy to accept help. She even told Gally herself that she was doing better, which he was glad about. And seeing Jaelin smile again? Gosh, it made Gally's days complete, filling his stony heart with meager fragments of hope. Small, but definitely there. Everything felt as it should be in Gally's book.
But then one day, Jaelin was nowhere to be found. Gally checked all their usual spots and even the obscure ones, several Gladers helping, but the girl seemed to have vanished. No one could figure out what happened. And then Gally found the note on his desk that simply read, ‘“I love you ~J.” His breath caught in his throat, mind racing to connect the dots as he came to the conclusion,
“She went into the Maze to end her life.” Alby just stared at Gally, not moving, and the boy grew impatient, grunting angrily, “Fine! I'll go after her myself!” Before anyone could stop him, Gally rushed into the Maze.
Jaelin, who'd retreated to the tallest tree in the Deadheads in an attempt to be alone, didn't become aware of what was happening until she heard the screams of a stung Glader being rushed to a Med-hut. As a Med-jack, she was supposed to be there. The girl found herself rushing there as fast as possible in order to find out who the unlucky sting victim was.
When Jaelin saw Gally thrashing against his bonds on a medical cot, her heart stopped.
Her first thought was that as a Builder, Gally never should have been in the Maze. So why the hell had he gone into the Maze?
She got her answer when the boys surrounding Gally saw her and gave varying exclamations of,
“Jaelin!”
“Where were you?”
“We've been looking for you!”
Jaelin was confused by this, questioning their concern about her whereabouts with a quick explanation as to where she was, confused and shocked when Newt cussed loudly.
“Will someone tell me what's going on and why Gally got stung?” the girl pleaded. Of course, the answer was not one she expected—or wanted—to hear.
“He was trying to find you,” Minho said flatly. “Found your note, convinced himself it was a suicide note, and ran into the Maze.” Jaelin's jaw dropped, hands coming up to cover her mouth as guilt started to toss and turn in her stomach.
“So why'd you leave a note like that if you weren't going to kill yourself?” Newt snapped. Jaelin winced, knowing this was a touchy subject for the second-in-command. “Jaelin, that's basically the exact note I left Alby, and Gally was here, then, remember?”
“It was a love confession!” Jaelin spat out, embarrassed to admit to it, given the circumstances, especially. “I didn't think of the similarities to Newt's note, so I'm sorry about that, but honestly, it was just a love confession. If he'd flipped it over, he would've seen that it said, ‘If you feel the same, meet me at the tallest tree in the Deadheads.’”
“So you aren't going to commit suicide?” Alby clarified.
“No!” Jaelin exclaimed, walking over to Gally's side sorrowfully. “It's not even an option. I stick with you guys.”
A look of relief passed over the faces of all the boys in the room, despite the circumstances. Jaelin ignored this, too guilty to think of anyone but Gally.
He'd stopped thrashing, instead trapped in his own head, trying to separate nightmares from memories, which is difficult when most of your memories are as horrific as nightmares. Jaelin was able to loosely clap his right hand in both of hers, his hands significantly larger than hers.
“No!” Startled, Jaelin looked down at the boy, who was still trapped in his mind, obviously recalling something awful, because he was whimpering and murmuring phrases like “It hurts” and “Please stop.” Jaelin felt her heart fracture slightly, once again overwhelmed by the thought that this was her fault. It was only made worse when the tears started leaking from Gally's eyes and rolling down his face, sobs becoming more pronounced. The words he'd been muttering became unintelligible, drowned out by his cries.
There he was, Jaelin's strong rock, crying in the middle of the Med-hut.
The girl felt her own eyes start to water at the pained noises coming from Gally's mouth, unable to imagine how much physical and mental pain he was in. Gally's eyes flew open, blue orbs finding her chestnut brown ones, before he screamed,
“Stop! Make it stop!” When he broke down into sobs again, it became clear that he'd been reliving a memory verbally, Jaelin still unable to do anything more than hold his hand and whisper reassuring comforts, placing a cool compress on his forehead to combat his raging fever.
Jaelin used a rag to gently wash Gally's face, removing the tear stains on his cheeks. His tan skin was flushed pink from fever, face breaking out in severe patches of acne from the stress of the Changing. She did her best to treat that, too, even going so far as to wash his hair after his second day, the fever causing extra sweat to find a home in his sandy colored hair. She found herself struggling to leave his side, growing heavy with guilt whenever she tried. So she just stayed by his side, holding his hand, for five days.
“Jae?” came a raspy cough on the afternoon of the fifth day. The girl immediately woke up from where she'd dozed off in the chair next to Gally's bedside.
“Gal? You're back?” she asked, excited but tentative.
“Yeah,” he answered, “I think it's over.” Jaelin let out a sigh of relief, only hesitating for a second before leaping onto cot with Gally to give him the biggest hug she could.
It was Newt, however, not Jaelin, who explained the note and everything that had happened, Jaelin unable to find it within herself to explain again.
When Newt told Gally the vital piece of information he'd missed—Jaelin’s note was a love confession—the boy gasped, a dopey smile landing on his face as he muttered,
“Can you get Jaelin for me?” From the look on his face, Newt assumed the boy returned Jaelin's feelings, but this was confirmed without a doubt when Jaelin walked to Gally's bedside, unable to make eye contact out of nervousness, and Gally whispered, “Jae, look at me.” The girl obeyed, warm brown eyes meeting Gally's deep blue ones. Before Jaelin could say a word, Gally reached up and cupped her face in his hands before guiding her lips to his in a gentle yet passionate kiss.
It was a ‘finally’ kiss, symbolizing two kids finding love against all odds in a place resembling utter hell. And so when Jaelin pulled back for air, a surprised look still frozen on her face, Gally confessed,
“I've had the biggest crush on you for fucking ever.” Newt clucked his tongue, leading Gally to revise his statement. “Sorry, I've had the biggest crush on you for shucking ever.”
Jaelin's face broke into a wide, ecstatic smile. “Really?”
“Yes, Jae, for real,” Gally chuckled.
This was all it took for Jaelin to full-on leap into Gally's arms, the medical cot shifting in protest at the sudden addition of weight. The two teenagers didn't seem to notice or care, too set on colliding with the other's lips again to worry about something so trivial as the integrity of the cot. Jaelin's lips, chapped from nervous biting and dehydration, found Gally's, which were surprisingly soft, mouths brushing in romantic, teasing kisses before she pressed her lips firmly to his, unable to resist the promise of making out with her long time crush.
A low whistle caused Gally and Jaelin to pull apart for a second, observing Minho's triumphant stance in the doorway as he crowed, “Knew it!” Rolling their eyes, the two lovesick Gladers went back to exchanging kisses, all tears from days prior forgotten.
The fourth and final time Gally cried in the Glade was when Jaelin died. More specifically, when Jaelin went crazy and then stabbed herself to death.
Everyone swore they didn't see it coming—didn't expect the self destructive desires in her head to win—but every single one of them was lying. They'd all seen Jaelin start to spiral. But none of them had known how to help her and so, like the cowards they were, they left the girl to sink or swim.Gally hated every single one of them now, himself included.
Jaelin's role as a Med-jack meant that she didn't have one continuous work day, like with the other jobs. Rather, once she finished her daily tasks, she was free until someone called for a Med-jack. She spent lots of time with Gally while he built, and otherwise hung out in the Deadheads to journal. This solitude was good for her—but it ended up being her downfall.
She spent too much time alone with her thoughts, and it made her go insane.
Gally had been working on a building project when it all happened, Jaelin's screams in the middle of the Glade drawing everyone's attention. Gally immediately hurried down the ladder, dropped his tools, and sprinted towards Jaelin, who was holding a knife up to ward off Newt and Alby's attempts to talk her down.
“Jaelin, put the knife down and we can talk about this,” Newt reasoned, Gally falling into place beside the Second-in-Command.
Jaelin's eyes flickered to Gally's for half a second before she turned back to Newt and spat, “No, I won't. I hate it here.” Gally winced as Alby interjected,
“Why do you hate it here?” Jaelin scoffed.
“Why don't I hate it here? I'm stuck in a Glade, surrounded by a Maze filled with monsters, with only guys as company, harboring that knowledge that if at any point you all turned on me together, I'd be powerless to stop it.” Jaelin's chest heaved with emotion as the knife she held in front of her shook.
“We won't turn on you,” Gally insisted firmly, but Jaelin's eyes just flashed,
“Until you do. Until you're all so desperate that you gang up on me and grab me and rape me until I bleed out and die.”
Alby's jaw dropped, Newt shuddered, and Gally's eyes started to water.
“What?” Jaelin screeched. “It'll happen and you know it!” Gally took a step forward, hands outstretched as if to seem unthreatening, but Jaelin screamed again, so he backed away.
“Have you been stung, Jaelin?” Alby asked bluntly, earning a dry chuckle from the girl.
“No, Alby. I'm very much in my right mind at the present. I'm a Realist. I'm thinking realistically.”
Gally shook his head, unable to keep quiet now. “No, Jae! This isn't realistic. And you can't do this. I love you too much, remember?” He got choked up as the first tear slid down his cheek. “I can't survive without you.”
Jaelin's eyes grew cold, “Then die, too.” The girl stabbed the knife into her stomach.
“No!” Gally screamed, floodgates bursting open as Jaelin let a pained yell, yanking the knife out of her body before stabbing again, this time a little further up. “Stop!” Gally begged the girl, who let out some kind of agonized shriek-cackle, her face a confusing mix of defeat and triumph.
As if she was winning and losing at the same time.
She'd stabbed herself at least five times now, blood gushing from seemingly small cuts. Jeff and Clint had rushed over quickly, but she was crazed enough that no one could get close enough to subdue her. Gally tried, but got pulled back by Frypan and Winston right before Jae's knife would have slashed his carotid artery. The blood was coming too fast, anyway. She'd already lost too much.
The girl's grip went slack, the knife sliding out of it in time to hit the ground with her body. She immediately went still, sprawled across the ground, Jeff and Clint hurrying to try and save her, but it was too late. It was only a few minutes later when they got up solemnly, Jeff whispering, “I'm sorry.” Clint practically collapsed into his arms, both boys starting to sob as the death of their fellow Med-jack became real.
Gally stood staring at Jaelin's body numbly for a few moments before trudging over to her still form. He cradled it in his arms so gently that it surprised some of the other Gladers, but he didn't care. All he knew was that the love of his life had just died. Had wanted to die. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead before tilting his head up to the sky and, without warning, letting out a long, loud, anguished bellow.
“Fuck you!” he screamed at the Creators of such a hellhole; such a nightmare. No one had the strength to chastise him for cussing, not even Newt. Then he broke down in pained, heartbroken sobs again, the ache in his chest akin to a thousand splinters driving their way into every vital organ.
Without Jae, part of him—a large part of him—wanted to die, too. And that part grew and grew, slowly taking over until it was almost the only thing left. It ate away at this once untouchable boy, stripping him of his defenses and hope.
The next time he cried, he was barely even Gally anymore; just WCKD's puppet with Gally's face. He had lost the ability to fight their sick programming, and now, it had taken over. No, Gally wasn't truly living that last time he cried.
Without Jaelin, Gally would never truly live again. After all, when you give someone your heart, you place your life in their hands. And so when Jaelin died, Gally did, too.
Two rivers, running dry.
the end
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Hatchetfield is No Place For a Tabby Cat - Chapter 9: Time Flies
Tabby is reunited with Steph after 2 fucking hours apart.
The other oc featured in this, Glenn Greenfield, belongs to my qpp!
The last classes of the day were History and English. Both went smoothly enough: History was a very basic class taught by a very basic older woman, Mrs. Helm. It was boring, but at least Tabby wasn’t in the same class as Max or any of his buffoons.
Meanwhile, English was taught by a rather quiet young man called Mr. Sedgwick, a tan-skinned fellow fresh out of college. His dark hair was slicked to the side and he smiled at Tabby when she walked in. The classroom was dimly lit and homey, very comfortable for being a classroom. The desks were arranged in clusters of 4, with 4 clusters total. Tabby was one of the first people in class. She sat down next to a brown haired person in a green knit sweater. They looked up from their phone and gave Tabby a shy smile as she pulled out the chair she was to sit at. 
There was a good chunk of time before class started, so she tapped the person next to her. “Hey. I’m Tabby, what’s your name?”
They looked at her, as if unsure what to say. “Uh…Glenn.”
“Well hi, Glenn! Sorry if this is awkward, I’m new here. Uh…have you lived in Hatchetfield a long time?”
“As long as I can remember.” They shrugged. “It kinda sucks here.”
“So I’ve heard.” Tabby noted. “I don’t really know what to think, to be completely honest. Everyone here is just sort of weird.”
“I’m no different, I won’t lie.” Glenn chuckled. “I’m kind of well known around here.”
“How so?”
“Oh let’s see…I’m a trans guy, for one, that always draws attention. I got struck by lightning when I was ten and now people think I can see the future, to the point where I almost wonder if I can see the future…Is that weird enough for you?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, I ate lunch with Grace Chasity today, and I don’t think any conversation can get weirder than that one.” “Did she try to make you sign up for Bible camp?” Glenn inquired, twisting his pencil between his fingers. 
“Pretty much, yeah.” She laughed. “I also met this guy, Max, earlier…”
“You talked to Max Jagerman without getting a black eye or a wedgie or something? Impressive.” Glenn whistled, pointing at Tabby. “You’ve got some real talent.”
“No kidding.” 
The two talked for a little while longer, and as they did, more students began to flood into the room. A face Tabby remembered from first period as belonging to one of the Lipschitz twins, Trevor, due to the lack of badly-dyed blue hair, plopped down at the desk across from hers.
“What’s up, Greenie?” He gestured vaguely to Glenn. “Seen anything fun? Oh, man, if you can see into the future, is Rudolph gonna ask me out one of these days or am I gonna have to do it myself?”
Glenn sighed and rolled his eyes playfully. “No clue, Trevor. Maybe try the homeless guy, they say he has infinite wisdom.”
“I’d rather not go near someone who drinks out of that tap outside Beanies’. You know, the one people use to give water to their dogs?” 
“Fair enough. I don’t think I’d be willing to make the sacrifice either.”
Trevor looked up at Tabby, now. “I remember you. Robbie’s new fave.” 
“That’s me, I guess.” Tabby adjusted one of the barrettes in her hair. “She’s nice to everyone.”
“She’s nice to the queer kids.”
“How’d she know I’m–”
Trevor winked and raised an eyebrow, glancing between Tabby and Glenn. “She can smell it on us.”
“I bet you smell like a fucking fruitcake, then.” Glenn punched Trevor in the shoulder, and Trevor returned the favor, slapping him gently in the chest as Tabby took note of Trevor’s black nail polish.
“I hate to interrupt the first day bonding, but class was supposed to start 5 minutes ago and I don’t need Principal Blim on my tail on my first day as a teacher here.”
Heads turned. Mr. Sedgwick was standing at the podium at the head of the room, smiling brightly. “I want you all to know that it’s my first day teaching, so go easy on me! First day stuff is boring, so just fill out the day one worksheet when you can and pass it in by Friday, alright?”
“He’s really giving us a free block?” Tabby questioned, looking at Glenn and then at Trevor. Both boys just shrugged.
“Seems that way.” Trevor said, pulling out his phone.
“Maybe he can smell the gay on us.” Glenn snickered.
“Shit!” Mr. Sedgwick looked down on his laptop, which was sitting on his podium. “Forgot to take attendance…Hah…Nobody tell on me, okay? First we have…Tabatha Danehower? Am I saying that right?”
“Just Tabby, please.” She smiled sweetly at him, and got a nod in response. 
“Okay…” He called a few more names, and then: “Lisa Greenfield?” 
Glenn’s face went red. He gulped. It only took Tabby a few seconds to realize what was going on. 
“It’s Glenn.” She spoke up. “His name is Glenn.” 
The teacher looked over at Tabby, then glanced at Glenn, then carefully typed the correct name into his roster. “Thank you, Miss Danehower.” 
Glenn smiled warmly and mouthed a small thank you to Tabby as well. She grinned back.
“Next up we have…Stephanie Lauter?” 
Hold up. Steph’s in this class? She could already feel her mind racing. But…the only desk left is next to–
Her thoughts were cut short by Steph racing into the room, her bag swinging wildly on one shoulder. She gives Mr. Sedgwick some half-hearted apology and scrambles for a seat, until it dawns on her that the only remaining one was between three of the biggest nerds at school.
She plopped down beside Tabby and immediately pulled out her phone, showing off her pink shark phone case. 
“I take it you’re Stephanie Lauter?” Mr. Sedgwick said with a sigh. Steph gave him a sort of grunt in response, which Tabby thought was kind of adorable. She quickly stopped staring at Steph once she realized Glenn was staring at her in turn. 
“Trevor Lipschitz?” Mr. Sedgwick looked around the room.
“Gay!” One of the jocks in the back shouted. Trevor stood up and flipped him off, which only made the jocks hoot and holler more. 
“Yes. I’m here.” 
“Thank you. Now I suppose this is as good a time as any to mention that these are your assigned seats for the first semester, understood? Sorry to anyone who got the misfortune of ending up beside a loud chewer, a nose picker, et cetera.” That caused a chorus of giggles from the class. Steph glanced away from her phone, presumably scrolling TikTok, and looked at Tabby.
“Weird. I keep ending up sitting next to you.” She said with a tone of nonchalance. 
“Yeah…weird.” Tabby’s eyes were frozen to Steph. She was only narrowly aware of Glenn and Trevor giving her a mix of interested and disapproving looks from behind. Her eyes took in every detail of the girl, absolutely soaking her in: the soft blush of Steph’s cheek, the curve of her jaw, the luscious curls of her hair falling onto the desk, her pure white teeth and sparkling green eyes. 
It was heaven.
They say time flies when you’re having fun, but for Tabby, a more accurate statement would be ‘time flies when you’re marveling at a pretty girl while your new friends watch and become slightly disgusted with you, probably’. 
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starplatinumnun · 10 months
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YES HELLO WHERE DO I SIGN UP FOR PRINCESS NASTASYA GERARD DOMINGUEZ-SANGRÉ LORE (also i'm giving you the ultimate high five bc i never meet other ppl who give characters poly parents and am DELIGHTED)
Thank you so much!!!! I also haven't met many people with ocs who are children of poly parents, so that's so cool! <3
I can't tell you the FULL lore (because I haven't thought of it yet, and to be fair, it's already really convoluted) but Nastasya is technically the child of my main characters, who later becomes a main character herself.
Nastasya technically isn't a person in the conventional sense. She's more of a... homonculus? She doesn't exactly fit the definition of a homonculus, but that's what I've got for right now. She was created as Adam from the bible and Wonder Woman were created, except in a weirder and much more bloody way. She is not the first person to be made this way. (The first person was the prophet, Vita Carnis, who was an Eve and Jesus figure combined.)
More under the cut! There's a lot, so I don't want to clog anyone's dash! :) Again, thanks for asking!
Her nickname is Nastya, but her full (really long) name and title is Princess Nastasya Gerard Dolores Vita Dominguez-Sangré, Heir to the Sanguine Priesthood, Wanted High Traitor and Former Court Oracle to King Lasha the Nightslayer of the Lucian Authority. (She may have gotten a little silly as the court oracle to another religious sect and committed high treason. Oops! But that's in the future.)
Her mothers, in a brief summary because THEIR lore is even longer than Nastasya's, are some of the most influential people in their universe.
Her mother, Mischa, is a lesbian cannibal who runs a theocracy. (Cannibalism is common where she comes from.) She killed Judith, and Eleanora's friend. She was VERY surprised when Judith resurrected after ten or so minutes. They share thoughts with one another like a force mind-meld thing, and Judith thought she hallucinated her for years.
Her other mother, Judith, was "the chosen one," who came and slayed a good majority of the gods in their universe. She isn't from their universe, and continues to be an anomaly to this day. She has several patron deities, which is abnormal as the average person has one to two. Not a Mary Sue by any means, though. She has several disabilities, and is medically considered dead, though she has circulation, is warm, and occasionally has a pulse.
Her other mother, Connie, is a transgender lesbian woman who serves as Mischa's "right hand." All of her decisions run past Connie. She and Mischa are childhood best friends, though she was pretty much Mischa's advisor for a while. She and Mischa are on equal footing in terms of power now, though, so don't worry!
And finally, her other mother, Eleanora, is a genetic chimera who infiltrates the religious order that Mischa leads to get revenge for her dead friend, a novitiate member of their religious order. She has three patron deities, as she absorbed both her fraternal triplets in the womb. She meets Judith at the beginning of the story.
Their relationship starts out unhealthy (they have all tried to kill each other) but as they realize their feelings for one another, they turn into a healthy polycule with healthy communication. They raise their daughter (and eventually her sister) with care. In fact, she grows up a bit spoiled because her mothers dote on her all the time.
Because of the genetics thing, she happens to look like all four of them to varying degrees, though her skin is somewhat clay-colored. Has autism and a disability like all four of them, too. An unusual aptitude for less benevolent areas of magic, due to her patron deities. Her skin condition, however, is of magical origin. Every time she uses her magic, it causes growths to sprout on her face. They can be removed surgically, but cause intense scarring, pain, and bleeding.
In the future, she becomes court oracle to the Lucian Authority, a neighboring kingdom. She sets into motion a set of events that cause a civil war, a birth, a power struggle, an amateur c-section, and the faking of her own death. She teams up with a knight that she meets while on the run as a fugitive following the inciting incident, and they go on a quest to kill the king and kidnap a child together. Except, it's getting a child back to its parent, so it's like reverse kidnapping? Idk. Her full story needs its OWN post.
She has a pet cat, who is a skeleton she resurrected. It goes with her everywhere. Its name is Fish.
Tell me if you want more Nastya facts, because I have a ton!!!! That's all for now though, because I think I've been editing this for over an hour lmao. The lore is really confusing, but that's probably because I've never explained it to someone else before, and this is only a portion of the greater story.
I'm so glad someone took an interest in my oc polycule and their baby <3
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smolvenger · 2 years
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Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed, Chapter 5: Yellow Roses
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Based off of The Essex Serpent (I would say Fandom but honestly, I love to hate it so here's a Fix It FIc)
Pairing: some Stella/William, mainly Stella/Being Happy, and William/Being Held Accountable and Facing Consequences for Cheating, and eventually Stella/Male OC.
Series Summary: The Essex Serpent is reimagined and told from the perspective of Stella Ransome. And with a new ending. Stella must come to terms with not only her mortality but her husband's heartbreaking affair. A portrait of a woman who became The Ideal Lady her time and marriage required her to be. A picture of a marriage of love and bliss torn apart by a husband's infidelity. Where Stella Ransome, in the midst of devastating heartbreak and a terminal illness, gains her strength, finds her voice, and dares to seek freedom, hope...and even revenge.
Chapter Summary: In which a Widow from London and her son arrive in Aldwinter for The Serpent. Stella and William are introduced to her. But Stella begins to feel odd.
Chapter Warnings: Eventual Major Character Death, Mentions of food, children, religion, mentions of domestic abuse, realistic depictions of corsets, and portrayals of illness. Being Anti William and Anti C*ra so if you like the characters or pairing you have been warned. Divergence from Canon.
Chapter Word Count: 6K (Take a bathroom break)
Ko-Fi Link
A03 Link
Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four
“Ye have heard that it was by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: but I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery already in his heart.”- Matthew 5: 27-28.
“But if she has no intellectual hold upon her husband’s heart, she must inevitably become that most helpless and pitiable of earthly objects-a slighted wife.”- Sarah Stickney Ellis, from The Women of England: Their Social Duties and Domestic Habits.
I am aware many of you reading this are familiar with the story of The Essex Serpent of Aldwinter. And only a few of you are not. Before I begin the next part, you must be reminded or told of this one fact.
There was no serpent. There never was a serpent.
Despite all our terror at the time, there never was any giant, magical, murderous snake.
No snake killed those bodies.
No snake made Naomi disappear.
Little did we know at the time, we were being afraid of nothing. And what brought her to the town, was nothing.
▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬
To me, her name is too painful to write, much less speak, after what happened. To me, she will always be The Woman. And The Woman she was indeed when she first moved in!
Whenever there is a newcomer, rumors jump around like squirrels. Small towns are especially prone to this when so little happens at a time. I only did what I usually did with newcomers. I would bake my bread. Then I could deliver it as a welcoming present. Especially considering that this was a fellow woman who could be joining our Bible Studies and Sewing circles. No question she would be at church on Sunday. But it was five days until then! She would have to know she was welcome here, most of all by me.
6. Build relationships with women in the church to support, encourage and model Godliness to them.
As I walked down holding the warm pan, Martha passed me and gave me a laugh. Dressed in her walking gown, I noticed a newspaper was tucked under her arm.
“Why, is it for the newcomer? You gave bread to me when I arrived!” she called out.
“Do you…do you know where she lives?” I asked curiously.
I had written down an address on a scrap of paper placed in my pocket, but both of my hands holding a white towel over a hot pan would not grace me with the freedom to retrieve it.
Martha pointed one way and kindly offered to walk me there. We walked up to the little house. I knocked on the door, but there was no response. I knocked again, louder.
“Hello! There’s a visitor!” Martha shouted boisterously.
The only person who opened the door was not a woman, but a young boy. A boy who wasn’t at school. He looked thin and his eyes were wide, his skin sickly pale. Although he looked close to Joanna’s age, he carried himself with an air as if he was far younger with his slumping posture and the way he stared up at us blankly.
“Is your mother here?” I asked warmly.
“My mother’s not here now,” he replied somberly.
“I am Mrs. Stella Ransome; my husband is the vicar of the parish here. I am here to welcome your mother and you to town with this,” I said, offering the bread.
He looked at it and took the pan in his arms, but he did not smile.
“Thank you” he replied quietly.
“Frankie, where is your mother?” Martha asked. “She was here this morning when I spoke to her!”
“She’s off to find the Serpent,” the boy explained.
“And leave you alone? Oh, you poor thing!” I spoke. “Perhaps you should ask your mother to enroll you at school- my own children go there, and they’ll be plenty of other little boys for you to play with! You don’t have to spend all day at home…”
“I’m big enough to be by myself for a little bit, now…” he said.
“And I’m checking in on him, making sure he’s not catching on fire, don’t worry!” Martha added in.
“Oh, well…that is good. You at least can help yourself to some of the bread, Frankie” I said.
“Do make sure you eat that lunch I made you- and Mrs. Ransome was nice enough to give you some bread to go along with it! Have you yet?” Martha asked, placing her arms akimbo.
Frankie shrugged again. He looked down and then back up with no change in his sad, distant face.
“Frankie, I will call on you shortly, and your plate and one slice of that bread should be eaten by now! Don’t tell me you aren’t hungry! Your mother will insist!” Martha scolded.
He closed the door. We walked out into the roads right outside the gate of the house. Out of habit, I looked around the buildings in case anything unusual popped up. Or there were people listening in. But Martha and I were alone.
“She is here for the Serpent?” I asked.
Martha nodded in confirmation.
“Yes, she read our newspaper article and since then, she is obsessed! A most extraordinary, spirited woman, she! She wants to find it…” Martha continued.
“Why?” I asked. “I would want to avoid it.”
The wind blew a little colder. A few orange leaves from the trees fell onto the toes of our shoes. I was shivering inside my coat and scarf.
“For science. She’s a scientist! She loves fossils and history and wants to collect evidence of the serpent, make a name for herself because of it…”
“Why then, that’s very…very noble, I think!” I said.
It was unconventional. I little to never heard of women scientists. She was bound to be quite a character at the Bible Study. Perhaps she would have stories or share a fossil she discovered!
But then again, she was a scientist. She would frown at our Bibles, perhaps, and not participate in our prayers. Perhaps the church was out of the question. I wondered if I would even see her at all.
I did see her. I rushed with my children to church. Happily, we were on time even for Sunday School this time around. As I gathered my own three little ones and walked into the sanctuary, I made my rounds of greetings and chats with the other members.
One gentleman, the local surgeon named Lucas, turned to me with a smile. But today his smile seemed a little too friendly.
“Why, if it isn’t the Fairy Queen of Aldwinter herself!” he greeted.
He leaned forward, eyes shining, and hands in his pockets.
“Thank you, it is good to see you too,” I replied plainly. “And you speak compliments beautifully.”
I turned away promptly but he walked in front of me. His chest was puffed like a rooster.
“And what has the Miss Fairy Queen had next after the service? Plans for the Christmas service and pageant, as per usual from her, hm? Surely, I should be her humble servant and assist her...”
He had quite a nerve, I thought, knowing that my husband was the head of the church and even a few feet away. There was proof of a slight sneeze that echoed off the high ceilings- William was just getting over a cold. But thankfully after three days of me insisting on bedrest and broth, he was well enough to preach.
“I shall tell you what the Fairy Queen shall do after the service, Lucas. She shall l be with her husband,” I said flatly.
He let out an exhale, but his head bowed a little in acknowledgment of fairness. He tried. I gave him no room for encouragement. He respected my refusal. A friend of his, a plump man with a belly and a handlebar mustache tapped over on Lucas’s shoulder. There was a grin on his thin lips.
“Hey…the new woman is here…and she’s a widower too…” he alerted.
Lucas’s head turned and his jaw dropped. Thankfully, he forgot about his brief chase for another hunt!
My eyes followed in curiosity. Could it be? Sure enough, sitting on the pew was Frankie. Next to him was The Woman.
The first thing that struck me was that she was beautiful. Extremely, extremely beautiful. What was most striking was her hair. It was a golden blonde, like the rays of the sun, it was wavy too, making it seem like she glowed. However, although she had put it up like in fashion, strands fell loose around her face and from the style, but never to where it diminished her appearance despite the messiness. In fact, it made her seem romantic and wild. She was slender but still womanly. A straight nose, a creamy, cherubic face, and bright, piercing eyes.
The service began and I took my place again on the first row. William walked up to the pulpit to recite scripture. He spoke with such confidence you would have never known he was sick a few days ago.
“And in the first day there shall be a holy convocation, and in the seventh day there shall be a holy convocation to you; no manner of work shall be done in them, save that which every man must eat, that only may be done of you,” he intoned.
The service began and carried on as usual a parade of hymns, prayers, the choir, the sermon, and so on. I was glad for it again and for having a place to worship and feel refreshed. Even the children seemed calm and more interested today, far from the wailing babies they were in the past. The service ended and I could have my curiosity answered about the newcomer.
10. Stay after service to allow people to get to know you.
Lucas was not the only man affected by her beauty. It seemed nearly every man in the town was coming up to greet her. She would answer politely, if not curtly. I went up to see her, my children nearby, patiently waiting out my rounds of chatting.
“Good day, I wanted to welcome you the other day, but I’m glad you’re here,” I began.
“Thank you,” she replied.
“I am Mrs. Ransome, and these are my children:” I reached out an arm to show them “ Joanna, James, and John here.”
Each one politely introduced themselves and she replied. She gave me her name. Right as I was asking and chatting about how she was finding her new home, I noticed that on the collar of her dress, there was a large purple bruise. I kept trying my best to ignore it. But John could not.
“Why…are you alright Did you…did you fall?” he asked, pointing right at it.
She jumped with a slight panic, finding where my eyes looked, and then tugged her collar above to hide the mark. I looked down a little in embarrassment and hissed his name to behave himself. Meanwhile, Frankie’s eyes grew large and he dropped his jaw. The Woman merely steeled herself.
“Yes.” She answered curtly. “Painful.”
My husband joined my side. There was the introduction and small talk. She was finding her situation well here, comfortable, already good friends with Martha, and her research project was now underway. But it was all still very new for her to get used to.
“You should visit our house, we have a leg of mutton and Stella here makes an excellent cook,” he suggested.
“Yes, when are you free? I’m sure the children would like to play too…” I added on.
“That would be nice, thank you. I can visit Tuesday evening.” She replied.
Once it was confirmed, other women would run to me, barraging me with questions.
“Mrs. Ransome, I’m so thrilled to be pregnant, but I feel so awful all of the time, what must I do?”
“Mrs. Ransome, there’s a girl in Sunday School who keeps crying, what must be done about her?”
“Mrs. Ransome, I need help with the laundry with this broken hand, could you help me?”
I excused myself away to give my answers, volunteer my time, and offer what advice I could give.
“If you feel bad about your pregnancy, run a hot bath and ask for tea or hot cocoa and eat some candy, try not to overexert yourself. That must be Emma! She’s very little, she still misses her mother when they’re separated for a minute! Perhaps offer her some water and remind her she’s safe and if not, then maybe she’s still too little for Sunday school and should wait another year. Oh yes, of course, I can help! I can be there this afternoon!”
On Monday, after school hours, Joanna was off with her friends on her bike again with Johnny at her heels. William was writing his next sermon and preferred to be left in peace when doing so. I took little James, and we went to the beach.
It was an overcast day. Despite the chill, the air was sweet with the water and the sand was fresh.
“See there! See the waves, Jim? Aren’t they pretty?” I pointed out.
He squinted his eyes right at them and nodded with a grin. He took two steps towards it, the wind gusting into his face.
“Yes, very!”
We walked together across the beach, pointing at birds and seashells and discussing his day when I saw a huddled figure. At first, I jumped and grabbed onto my son.
“Mama, what is it?” he asked.
When I looked carefully, it was The Woman. She was down on the ground observing the rocks while scribbling notes onto a journal.
I walked up closer to her, greeting “good afternoon!”
“The Same to you!” she replied. Her head turned towards me in acknowledgment and then back to carefully observing the rock in her hand.
“May I ask, what are you doing?” I questioned.
“I’m researching The Serpent, trying to find tracks,” she explained.
The Woman gave the last note with a flourish of her pen, tucking it behind her ear. She began to wipe any sand off her clothes and stood up. But looking at the mid-body of her dress, I let out a small gasp.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You…I…I’m so sorry it isn’t polite to say so…” I pleaded, taking one step back.
Even James lifted his face up to mine in curiosity as to why. I tried searching around for something to change the subject quickly. But The Woman took a step closer to me in confrontation.
“Why did you gasp, Mrs. Ransome?” she asked.
A glint in her eyes implied she knew why. And no other subject on the clouds or what her son was up to could possibly distract her.
I clutched a little onto James’s arm. The words stuttering got out of me.
“You…you don’t…you don’t have a…you aren’t wearing a…a..” I tried to gesture to the middle of my body with my free hand.
“A corset, you mean? I’m not wearing a corset?” she said.
“Yes.”
Her nostrils flared and her eyebrows lowered in frustration.
“It’s a torture device that only limits women and how we can move and what we can do. I will not wear one as I am researching! Any modern woman refuses them, and I am such!” she huffed.
She glanced down, noticing I was wearing one. Then she looked up, her shoulders relaxing. She reopened her journal.
“I apologize, I have a lot of feelings regarding corsets,” she said.
“I understand,” I replied.
“Now you must please leave me, I have to finish to see if there are any tracks,” she dismissed.
“Good…. good day to you too,” I said, James and walking away from her.
Now, this was an oddity above all else! Not wanting to wear her corset? Did she not want her back and breasts supported? Did she not want to have her clothes look smooth when she put them on? What about when her unmentionable arrived, did she not want the help with the stomach cramps a corset could give? How did her hips ever fare against the weight of her skirts?
Yes, my own corsets made my posture straight and I could not lean down to touch my toes, but I never felt it restrain my movements. I could still walk about and garden fine enough. I saw women ride bikes down the Aldwinter streets while still in corsets. The one I was wearing that day came from a factory run by Madame Valery. It was a woman-made corset! Wouldn’t Madame Valery herself notice if her creations were too restrictive and uncomfortable?
I wanted to tell The Woman that she could wear one and experiment without trouble. She only had to bend her knees to get down onto the ground to observe something. Did she know that she didn’t have to make the laces to tight when she wore one? She could merely adjust the strings so they would fit her to prevent them from slipping off but still fit. Maybe her mother never taught her how, assuming she had one. Maybe she kept buying ones in the wrong size her entire life! Surely, with the right corset on, she could even face The Serpent if she had to capture it, fight it, or run?
But I knew if I even hinted at it, it would only make The Woman more upset and unease any pleasantness there could be between us.
It seemed perhaps her line was directed at me, maybe insulting me and my own choice to wear one. But I did breach a sensitive subject unknowingly. Maybe I Wasn’t the only one that day who noticed it and asked about it. Maybe she was taking out her anger on me without meaning to.
12. Be a blessing to the women in the church; encourage others to do the same.
I asked God to forgive me and to let me turn the other cheek. It was just a mistake of mine. I didn’t know and now I knew never to bring it up with her.
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There was a large Leg of Mutton I purchased from The Butchers on Saturday. And now on Tuesday, I had to make sure there was enough of it for seven of us, as well as side dishes and dessert. I was up to the challenge.
As the door opened, I was still awaiting the completion of our stone oven on the food. I rushed to greet The Woman and Frankie but then had to promptly return to finish the cooking. Then there were the grilled mushrooms, walnuts, bread, and so on. It was stuffy in the kitchen, yet I rolled up my sleeves and carried on. Thank goodness the oven was well prepared for the Herculean task today. It was just like a normal dinner-with just a little bit more thrown in.
Any loose strands that came from my bun, I tucked into my hair and away. So, help me, neither my husband nor she would think me sloppy and uncomely for one moment. May William always think of me as beautiful and perfect, I hoped! I heard the footsteps of my family as well as that of the dog dashing in and out. Any time I stepped out, I got made sure my hair was neat and got rid of my apron, only to tie it back once I returned.
They were all around the couch, discussing among themselves when I walked in, wiping my hands on my apron.
“Dinner will be ready shortly!” I chirruped.
Once we were all setting plates and silverware, The Woman and Frankie took their seats. Frankie seemed to salivate the plate in front of him. The Woman reached to take the water jug before her.
“We must ask for a blessing first,” I reminded everyone.
She froze for a second. Her arm outstretched her sleeve as she was reaching for the jug of water, and I noticed a bruise on her arm. Eyeing down, she noticed it too and retreated her arm.
From her reaction on Sunday, I decided not to mention anything about it. Perhaps another fall.
My three children, William, and I ducked our heads. The Woman and Frankie paused before they followed us.
‘Oh Lord, we ask you, bless our food and bless our guest. Keep us all safe from the Serpent, amen,” William prayed.
As I began my own plate, James turned to The Woman.
“You’re a widow…right?” he asked.
“Yes, I am,” she confirmed, beginning to dig into her pie. Again, the beautiful golden waves from her head fell in loose strands over her.
“So that means your husband is dead…what was he like?” James asked curiously.
She froze. The fork in her hand turned into a grip.
“He was a horrible, horrible man, and I do not wish to speak of him again, thank you. I am sorry, but I did not like him,” she answered plainly.
Oh.
So that explained the bruises, I thought.
James flinched back in shame. I leaned toward him.
“Just apologize…you didn’t know, darling, it was just a mistake,” I whispered.
James kept his head ducked “I’m…I’m sorry…”
“That’s all right, you didn’t know…thank you for the apology… But…you all begin by praying?” she asked.
The bread plate was passed around. William looked at her with slight half exhale, half laugh.
“Why yes, of course, before every meal…” he explained.
John accidentally knocked over his water. I ran up, napkin flying, to dab away at it and clean him up.
“It’s just not natural for me, to need a blessing just to eat,” The Woman said.
I fled to the kitchen and returned with another glass of water for John.
“It’s a way of giving thanks, showing appreciation,” William said.
Thus, began that dinner conversation. William and The Woman were going back and forth, doing most of the talking for us.
She made a point about science.
William made a point about religion.
She made a point about science.
William made a point about religion.
James let out a small burp. I urged him to say “pardon” and dab his mouth with his napkin.
Joanna then turned her head towards the woman. “Have you found anything out about The Serpent, yet?”
Of course, it would get to the serpent. There was much excitement among the local children concerning it. There was a thrill. It was a wild legend. A scary story told around the fire.
The Woman’s eyes glittered toward her and said “I believe there are some tracks in some of the woods, I’ve found…”
“Our woods?” John asked nervously. “The ones you can see from the attic?”
She turned and matter of fact explained to him, “no, it was not located in close proximity to your house…”
We all went around and spoke about what we thought about it. William said it was a creature of God and had to be seen as such. Joanna said it fascinated her. John said it frightened him. James was awe-struck at it. The Woman gave a whole list of theories that went on for ten minutes. Frankie ate his mutton.
I only said, “I only hope it stays away from us and harms no one.”
Once the meal was finished, the boys brought Frankie upstairs to play in their little hideout in the attic. The Woman, Joanna, and William were at the table. She was telling Joanna all about science and Joanna kept bobbing her head as if hypnotized.
I smiled and decided to finish some chocolate biscuits I began that day. Perhaps even that sad, odd Frankie would enjoy them. Maybe even he would smile and know he had a friend in me and speak in a sentence with more than four words.
As I began to pull them off to cool, I heard Joanna’s footsteps upstairs. The Woman and my husband continued their discussion. As I glanced, despite their opposing opinions, he was smiling.
At least there would be peace and no arguing here! I thought gratefully. With someone so passionate about science staying under a religious house, I feared tempers would flare. But so far, there was no shouting and threats. All was good.
I made sure there was sugar powder dusting on top of the biscuits. Using a knife, I found they were the right crispiness. I took a small bite, and it seemed the right flavor. Content, I placed them on a white plate.
William and The Woman were still talking.
Carrying the plate, I passed them and went upstairs to the attic. Joanna was in her room. She took two biscuits with thanks and went to her bed to eat them while reading.
I brought them then to the attic. Once I arrived, I noticed the “club” was formed. The children loved it as a place to gather when they were all younger. It was set up whenever Club was in session. It was a makeshift tent of old bedsheets against doornails on the wall of the attic. A lamp was used for light inside as they were laughing and playing. Their shadows were flashing against it. James was the first to pop his curly head out of the flap.
“Chocolate! Mummy has chocolate!” he cheered.
The boys ran up, with many thanks (and an actual smile from Frankie!), and started to eat them.
“Would you like any, mama?” John asked.
I looked down. I had to make sure everyone else would have some before I took one. Frankie and John had three each, and James had about four. There were four left.
11. Be consistently humble; appreciating everything while demanding very little.
“No, but thank you, you’re a kind boy, Johnny. I must make sure our guests have some before I do.” I spoke.
Meanwhile, The Woman and William continued their talking downstairs. When the plate went down, they chewed on what was left, so hypnotized by their conversation they didn’t hear me sit on the couch next to them. I placed the dessert plate on the small table. They smiled as thanks and ate the biscuits, still deep in discussion. So much so that they didn’t see that they each ate two. No biscuits were spared for me. I said nothing about it.
That evening, William and I lay in bed. We held each other to the crackling fire. The autumnal chill of the outside seemed to creak into our room.
“Stella, she’s going to help me, and we will search for the Serpent,” he announced,
“Oh, that is good. A team together… should be easier on you. She’s clearly an expert, smart. I couldn’t understand half the scientific words she said. She is quite pretty, too…” I replied.
I laid my head on his chest. I looked up to admire the newest addition to my collection of blue porcelain plates just above it on the mantle. I didn’t see his face.
“Yes, it seems every man in town is mad about her,” he commented.
“Lucas is at her heels,” I commented.
“As a man, it’s hard not to blush when she praises you,” he said.
I turned my face to him with a little laugh.
“Oh…a little infatuation?” I asked.
He returned the laugh.
“Yes, I admit! Nothing more! Do you remember your copy of Pride and Prejudice? Aren’t you still infatuated with Mr. Darcy still? And Heathcliff and Colonel Brandon and Edward Ferrers?”
“Yes, I am! Any woman who reads those books keep our little infatuations for those men!” I commented.
Outside we heard the hooting of owls in the night sky.
“You…you are…you are my wife…” he murmured.
“And that I am,” I said. “I may have my infatuation with Colonel Brandon, but when night falls, you are my husband, not he.”
I kissed his cheek and went to sleep, thinking no more of it. My husband is a holy, upright man, I thought. At the end of the day, I was the woman he loved. After all, it was only fair, and I trusted him.
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Weeks passed. I felt tired yet planned the Christmas service and pageant. The business of December made it fly past. January came and February was at its end with the promise of March. All that time I was doing my usual duties and the search for the Serpent continued. No actual creature had yet to be found, yet every townsperson was on the edge of their seat.
It was promised to be a long winter. Everything was still cold and grey. I was sweeping away at the floors as the children came home from school. I had felt dizzy and a little out of breath, I paused and held the broom, pressing it down to ground myself. But I was glad to see them. Joanna had several books in her hands. She went promptly into the kitchen.
Johnny looked around and then at me. The dog was on his heels, wagging its tail.
“Mama…where’s papa? He wasn’t at home when I get home from school at all this week…” he asked.
“Papa’s doing something very important. He’s with Frankie’s mother- you know her. Remember?” I explained.
“Yes.”
“They’re out searching for The Serpent, your father’s going to consecrate it,” I explained.
He tilted his head, setting himself on the couch. His legs couldn’t reach the floor and swung a little.
“Why aren’t you with him?” he asked.
4. Encourage his advancements while maintaining the balance of his home and family.
I went over to the couch and smiled.
“I’m not clever enough for the science, I admit. And, well, someone must keep an eye on you three and make sure the home is nice for him when he returns,” I replied.
“If he returns!” John asked nervously.
I clutched his hand.
“Your father is not alone, and he’s a smart man. He will be safe. He will come home…how could he not for you? He loves you so very much. He loves all of us, he won’t throw himself into danger without considering us,” I explained.
“Papa’s hunts with the other men, he should just shoot it!” Johnny said.
“Then tell that to him when he returns!” I suggested, I took my hand and rubbed it through his reddish blonde curls.
I heard a CLANK of a pot falling onto the floor with a “Blast!” from Joanna.
I got up and went into the kitchen. Joanna was moving the pots around and on top of the stove, putting various things inside: salt, water, oil, and so on. Many of our pots and pans were brought out and, on the table, there were some books left open to black and white pictures of thermometers. Joanna poured the water jug into the pot and turned the stove on. She never showed much interest whenever I tried to teach her how to cook!
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She looked up at me with a large smile.
“It’s a science experiment! I’m going to see what happens to these when you boil them!” she said, gesturing to the salt, oil, and flour taken from the pantry.
“For school?”
“No! It’s in these!” she pointed to the books and opened to the illustrations.
“Since when have you gained interest in science experiments?” I asked.
She explained to me that it was The Woman who inspired her. Joanna went on about how smart and incredible The Woman was. How she told her about science and experiments and showed her some of her notes even. That Joanna wanted to be just like her when she became older.
“A scientist! Me! Perhaps even a doctor even…”
“You’ll need to go to university usually to learn how to be one. That’s why there aren’t many women who are those things…” I commented.
She gave me a defiant huff, her eyes forward and determined.
“Then I will become the first woman to do it! Why do we have to have so many choices anyway?” she complained before turning her light head back to the experiments.
“Just leave enough so I can make dinner, at least…” I requested, walking away to finish sweeping.
I will confess, I envied The Woman at that moment. I envied how beautiful she was. How she was getting lines of suitors interested in her while my own admirers before being engaged were only a handful. I envied how much my daughter seemed to genuinely worship her rather than feel a sense of love out of plain duty from familial blood. And I envied her boldness, her courage to discover The Serpent.
The Serpent terrified me from what bits I heard. I thought if I were to encounter it, I wouldn’t stand my ground. I would scream and run away. I would grab my children and take them somewhere safe. I would hide. I felt I couldn’t fight it much less research it. The less I knew the better my peace of mind. Yet The Woman did. She wanted to go out and find it. She knew no such fear. She trusted that her own child was safe at home without fear of anything crawling inside with fangs. If it was a Leviathan in the water, she would dive in and swim after it. She could run about the countryside for hours and do as she pleased.
My thoughts were interrupted as I saw James. He wandered to me with a fistful of a bit of chocolate cake. It was the one I baked today as a birthday gift for Mrs. Elliott. It was to be given at her celebration this evening. I laughed at him and wiped away the mess on his cheeks.
“Would you like any, Mama?” he asked.
“No, thank you…” I spoke.
“You didn’t eat at breakfast…” he commented, tilting his head.
“I wasn’t hungry then, darling, but I assure you, I’m fine…”
Even though I envied the boldness of The Woman, I enjoyed my comfortable life. Despite how much of it I had to do, I enjoyed cooking, cleaning, sewing, mending, knitting, gardening, reading the odd book, collecting my blue items, and pressing my flowers. Despite the effort, it would take, I enjoyed attending church, helping plan its picnics and holidays and classes, rereading the Bible, going to women’s circles with my friends, and visiting the people of Aldwinter. Most beautiful and fulfilling of all was being a part of my beautiful family- three healthy children and a handsome, generous, intelligent, open-minded husband who was my entire world. Perhaps she and I were just different in our tastes of what enriched our lives. That was all.
So, I would pray to God to take care and rid me of my envy. Then I would go outside and finish the laundry.
Many who have already read of me and of what happened will say I am a cautionary tale. I was a walking warning to other women. That everything I did, said, and agreed with was something that any woman should not do or else share the fate written about me. Then there were others, and these consisted of my elders, family, and my peers at the time, who would hail me as a Perfect Woman. That I was the Saintliest wife and mother who lived and breathed.
And there are times thinking of this that I wonder, how was it I became both?
When I returned home from the celebration and went upstairs, William was writing at his desk.
“Is it the next sermon?” I asked.
He placed an arm over his papers and turned to me.
“No…it’s a letter about what I have found out about The Leviathan,” he explained.
He said that he was writing to The Woman about a verse he discovered in Psalm 104. He was going to let her know that perhaps The Serpent was The Leviathan and if so, that meant it was a creature that remained strictly in the sea.
“If it is strictly a sea creature, then we will know what it is, and we can warn others not to go swimming there…” he expanded.
“That would be good- the mystery will finally be solved. I still think about the book you told me about writing the first day we met, Will! I think would love it and you always had a gift with the written word. They’d have to publish you, William, they must!” I encouraged him, kissing the top of his curly head.
He smiled up at me from his chair, his arm still blocking the letter. He turned around to complete some more as I took off my coat, hat, and gloves and rested on the chair near the fire. Today the walk to Mrs. Elliott’s house and back felt tiring. I found myself trying to exhale deeper as I sat in my chair.
William turned around, scratched at his beard, and looked at me with worried eyes.
“Stella…you seem a little out of breath….” He mused.
“The party was exciting, and the walk was long, but that was all!” I assured him.
When I woke up the next day, although I knew I slept well, I realized I felt sweaty and exhausted. William was not usually an early riser and dozed contently beside me. As he wished me goodbye to head off for Church and Serpent-related duties, I realized that I had no appetite for Breakfast again.
I mustered myself to eat some fruit and boiled eggs, but I started to cough throughout the meal. The coughing continued throughout the day. And the next.
Then, finally, one day, as I was wiping off the dust from surfaces at home, another fit of coughing began. But my chest was tightened with a stabbing pain. The room spun. My legs felt very weak and were shaking. I kept coughing into my sleeve. I tried to go over to get the drawer in the parlor cabinet for a handkerchief, but it only made the dizziness worse.
My legs gave in, and I fell onto the floor. The room kept spinning, the coughs kept coming and I pulled my sleeve into my mouth to block it. All the while my chest kept hurting. My arms were wobbly as I tried to help myself up and failed to.
When I removed my sleeve from my mouth, there was blood.
I heard someone scream before everything went black.
2 notes · View notes
lilyhoshikawa · 2 years
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🌷🌼🌺🌴🍂💧 for cathy!!!!
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Black. Cathy never really got the opportunity to be picky, and the bitterness did her good, so she’s told. Like a little jolt of discomfort to down the rest of it. Her second addiction. And she wouldn’t want to ruin the purity of it with cream and sugar. A crucible isn’t a crucible if you make it easier on yourself, and Cathy takes that approach in every aspect of life. It’s exhausting. And she could use a bit of sweetness, if only someone would grant it to her.
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Cathy’s so so fiercely personal and so cathartic and there’s just so much abt her that feels so relieving. The first OC I ever made to represent the emotions and feelings I was afraid of in myself, to grapple with the stuff that was ugly and scary and daunting to make it into something I could safely explore and discuss. Cathy was freeing to create. It was like exhaling a deep breath, letting out all the stuff that was bottled up. Every time I write her, whenever she comes back to the forefront of my thoughts, it’s this visceral and awful and beautiful thing. Perfectly bittersweet. She represents a part of my life that’s gone by nowadays, that I can’t go back to, but in recent days that pain and nostalgic longing hitting me has struck me as something that’s just… more of what Cathy already was. She’s not easy to write or to interact with or to explore, her stories cross into a lot of very rough territory, but in the face of all of that she’s meant to be a lesson that that traumatized, unsightly part of me that I was once ashamed of isn’t something to hide and doesn’t make me unlovable. Cathy doesn’t have to hide herself and live a fake life as an idealized, super cute and adorable girl, she can be loved for who she is in her rawest form. She’s still worthy of love. And that means I am too.
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Cathy never got especially close with her mom or dad, and she was an only child. As far as that goes, it was her mother she saw the most of. As the patriarch of the house and a man deeply in touch with God, Cathy’s father often had better things to do than look after a sinful child and correct her every behavior. That was the job of the mother of the house, the nurturing presence and the sharp hand of judgment. Most of the abuse came at her mother’s hand, for that reason. But so did the sparse moments of mercy, kindness and love. Cathy felt love from her mother more often, just by seeing more of her. And so Cathy spent most of her time trying to impress and satisfy her mother, to receive that affection from her. And maybe she’s still trying, long after it stopped mattering.
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Cathy’s relationship to other people is definitely more than a little twisted. As a kid she read books, but she couldn’t watch TV and she didn’t have any friends. She’s deeply familiar with the Bible, of course. She feels an odd kinship with Isaac. But she’d never admit to that. For a long time Cathy’s favorite person was probably the nebulous idea of the woman whose name she took for herself, who wrote the book about cats that she couldn’t read. But she’s expanded her horizons since then. She likes Dr Ishimoto, in an aspirational sort of way. She likes Ogura, in a maybe-familial sort of way. And she likes her teammates, once she meets them, hesitant though she may be to admit that. She’s not entirely sure what liking people means, or what it means to love them, but she definitely has people she doesn’t want to see go. And that’s good enough for her.
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Angry music. Not too loud, not yelling and screaming and blasting on a guitar for the sake of conveying force. Quiet anger. Gentle and beautiful and terrifying anger. Songs that make her angry, that rile her up, that upset her just to hear. Spiteful, vengeful, hostile music, written with a clear and deeply personal vendetta. She can feel it in her bones, and it communicates to her in a way nothing else does, in a way words alone can’t. It’s almost therapeutic, if not occasionally antithetical to that purpose.
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Cathy is… guilty. And she’s accepted that the guilt she carries is never going to fade. She’s always going to be a monster, and she’s always going to have wasted the potential for a life. She’s mad at her parents, but she’s mad at her friends and herself and the world and everyone. She wants to wipe everything away, an awful supernova that resets the world to zero. She wants to be the demon that ruins the world, to be the monster her parents always saw her as. To embrace her role as a devil and do the devil’s work. She wants the world to burn and a new world to grow from its ashes. Cathy’s wish is an apocalypse, a punishment, it’s Revelations. She’s convinced the only way to cure the world is to destroy it. And it’s going to take a lot to convince her otherwise.
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zapgraptrash · 2 years
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Name Meaning Game
stealing this post from @tell-me-about-your-ocs ​ :^) i actually have a whole ass notepad document for all of them already SO I AM NOT BULLSHITTING AS I GO ALONG FOR ONCE.
RULES: Search and post the meaning of your OCs’ names (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! Bonus if you can find something for their last name too.
LONG POST SORRY
ZAPPER
The nickname Zapper was kept from the original SD Gundam Force character he was built from.
Charlie: "short" form of Charles, which means "man", and sometimes "army" or "warrior". this is the greatest coincidence of all fucking time because I pulled the name from Chuck Berry.
Marvin: Meat Loaf's birth name. the meaning is uncertain but it originates from the welsh name merfyn
Zane: wanted something beginning with Z. means "god is gracious" which is funny because Zapper is an atheist/convinced any sort of god hates him.
GRAPPLER
The nickname Grappler was kept from the original SD Gundam Force character he was built from.
Vince: short form of Vincent, Alice Cooper's birth name (and the names of a significant amount of glam metal musicians?). comes from the Latin word for "to conquer", no influence on why i picked it
Jonathan: the name of the protagonist from the W.A.S.P album The Crimson Idol, means "god has given", no influcence on why i picked it though thinking about it it's probably why the crimson idol character has it lol
Lemoncito: I wanted him to have one of his middle names be filippino, and it has lemon in it so i had to. means "capable" or "impressive
Galloway: wanted something beginning with G. I was originally going to use Gallo because it means "cock" (as in rooster) but there's an actor called vince gallo so i used galloway instead. the name comes from the region in Scotland so this is how i decided his dad has scottish ancestry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
SLYGER
The nickname Slyger was kept from the original Tenkai Knights character he was built from. I also decided it's his fursona's name.
Peter: pulled from Peter Criss who was the original Catman in KISS. the meaning is just "stone". i've been thinking of making his first name Pedro since he's hispanic but i dunno long established stuff etc
León: means lion.obviously gotta beat everyone over the head with the cat theme
Reina: father's surname (in Mexico they have 2 last names, the first one is your dad's last name and the second one is your mum's last name), means "queen", chosen because Slyger's favourite band is Queen
Marrufo: mother's surname, means "sly" or "cunning"
GRANOX
The nickname Granox was kept from the original Tenkai Knights character he was built from. And like Slyger it is also his fursona's name.
Gary: wanted something beginning with g, name means spear. his signature weapon is an axe so neat coincidence
Cornelius: means "horn" which fits because rhino theme. also something about in the bible cornelius being told by an angel to seek peter. whomst is slyger. Martel: old french word for "hammer"
DOM
The nickname Dom was kept from the original SD Gundam Force character she was built from.
Dagmar: wanted something beginning with d, and it was the only female german name beginning with d that I liked lol. it means "day" and "maid"
Abigail: means "my father is joy" which is very relevant to her backstory and it makes her initials DAD which was just for the funnies and not because the backstory.
Dorfmeister: picked it literally because it was funny, sorry german language. it's an old word for "village mayor".
RICKY
Could not keep the original SD Gundam Force name because it's a name that is strongly tied to the gundam franchise in general lol.
Ricky: short for "Richardine" and sounds masculine. back before i made her a woman, she was named after the character in the Skid Row song 18 And Life and like i just kept it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ richard/richardine means "brave ruler"
Budika: a sinhalese name, i couldn't find a meaning for it but i picked it because it's similar to Boudicca as in the celtic queen who fucked over the romans before they could invade scotland. boudicca also means "victory"
Sansoni: close enough to what her original name was (sazabi). if you trace back all the variations of the name, the original name "samson" means "sun"
MASUYO
Also could not keep their original SD Gundam Force name. i mean it's literally "gundam" backwards.
Masuyo: the kanji in the name combined mean "benefits the world". appropriate to trashland lore, starts with m.
Wakahisa: means "forever young", i think i picked it specifically for this meaning. for all of trashland's story masuyo does not physically age, so they permanently look about 30.
VILIUS
he nickname Vilius was kept from the original Tenkai Knights character she was built from.
Vilhelmiina: picked because it's close to vilius. finnish feminine version of william, the meaning is a combination of "will" or "desire" and "helmet"/"protection"
Hellä: picked because funnie. means "gentle" which is the polar opposite of vilius's personality, which makes it funnier.
Vanhanen: means "old".
THADDEUS
the character he was built on is a transformer, which all have undeniably silly names, but his was Thrust. lmao.
Thaddeus: i wanted him to have a name starting with Th and i liked how it sounded. it means "courageous heart" which was a good coincidence
Axel: get it because the axel on a motorbike or a car lol. picked it because it sounded like something cool he'd pick for himself anyway. it apparently means "my father is peace" if you trace the names back
Barker: means "tanner of leather"
JEFFREY
see note for thaddeus. HOWEVER jetstorm is a less silly name, so i've decided that's his drag name.
Jeffrey: apparently means "a pledge of peace". picked it because it begins with j and it was funny at the time.
he has 7 middle names and that is 100% because it was funny. i am not going to look up meanings for all of them.
Eduardo Thierry Feliciano Ariel Maximiliano Gaston Kevin. yes kevin was for the extra funny.
Soucy: came from the names of multiple?? french towns apparently. i picked it because it sounds french and silly.
BRASS
kept the name from my wife's gundam oc.
Bethany: the name comes from a town mentioned in the bible apparently. i picked it because it starts with b and fits.
Bituin: "star" in tagalog
Vicente: spanish form of vincent, grappler's name, but is apparently a reasonably common middle name in the philippines. i think i had it that she picked it herself after she was adopted by zapper and grappler.
Batara: couldn't find a meaning, but i picked it because it was close enough to "battalion" (og brass's full name was brass battalion. which is how axian sd gundam names are apparently. zapper zaku, grappler gouf, destroyer dom etc)
and uhhh i tag anyone :)
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kana-muchi-midori · 10 months
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For y’all that are curious, this is my OC Santiago
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(When he was younger :3)
Full Name: Santiago Talamillo
Date of Birth: January 8 1976
Date of Death: 2034
Cause of Death: extreme lust turning him into an incubus (still working on story)
Wives: Evelyn Lockehart, Lynn Chandler, technically Esperanza Talamillo
Children: Valentina, Mateo, Zachary, Esperanza, Mira, Veronika
Ethnicity: Mexican/Caucasian
Sexuality: Bisexual
Crimes/sins: Abuse, rape, human mutilation, breaking the hippocratic oath, cult leadership, incest, pedophilia.
KEEP IN MIND UNDER THE CUT THERE ARE VERY DARK TOPICS DISCUSSED LIKE INCEST AND RAPE
In summary: Santiago is a narcissistic alcoholic who was once a devoted man of god, only for his insane lust over two young women Evelyn and Lynn to drive him insane. With the way that they are, he attempts to “fix” them.
Evelyn and Lynn are two girlfriends who are rather immodest. They smoke, drink, and Lynn drives a motor cycle. This drives Santiago nuts, blaming their “sins” for his lust (Judge Claude Frollo vibes tbh) so that’s what started the cult.
Though both are lesbians, he manages to groom them in a relationship using blackmail and promising money to them since they’re impoverished college students. He gets away with it because everyone in town loves Santiago since he doesn’t let his real side show. Eva and Lynn also have no family to talk to since they were united by being lonely foster kids all throughout their childhood.
Santiago constantly verbally abused them, telling them to “dress modestly” and “stop being a fag”, but the poor girls were so desperate for money they kept their mouths shut. They eventually succumb when Santiago proposes to them.
Even with the girls converted, Santiago still has insane sexual desires for them, so he starts the “Cult of Saint James” so he can modify the rules of the bible without getting judged for it.
For starters, he’s a complete asshole to his followers, he rapes both Eva and Lynn and forces them to have children, beats his sons when he doesn’t think they’re good enough, rapes his daughters if they dare wear a skirt too short, and is overall just a horrible person. But few people know about the cult which is rather quite small (about 50 people) so most people don’t know the real Santiago.
After a mishap with a strange witch (I know this sounds weird but I like to think all my fanfics and og stories are in one universe and in some stories there are witches), he gets turned into what biblical entity he resembles most, an incubus. Still in the delusion that he is a man of god, he goes to find his favorite now adult daughter, Esperanza.
Poor Esperanza and her sisters Valentina and Mira ran off to Italy in their teens to escape Santiago’s abuse, only to be kidnapped by mafia boss Alexander Giovanni (OG story: The Giovanni Family) and forced to bear his heirs at a young age.
Esperanza was lucky to escape as a young woman but was now constantly living in fear of the mob finding her and dragging her back. Little did she know her now incubus father would find her and drag her to hell to rape her.
Santiago claims that God will do something to help him turn back human, and claims Esper and her sisters are at fault for what had happened in Italy. He impregnates her not knowing that the birth of a cambion will instantly kill a human mother, and then abandons their daughter Veronika at a cambion orphanage afterwards. He then finally snaps out of his “man of God” beliefs.
Also God and Jesus aren’t real in this universe, ancient Christians just saw angels and demons and decided to worship one and hate the other. Also hell isn’t even a fiery place, think more of the Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss depictions. Santiago learns this later on.
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blkchxrryblyss · 2 years
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When the Fox and the Ackerman Meet
levi ackerman x blk oc!
warnings: suggestive, cussing, blood, broken bones, child birthing, fighting
a/n: this is an original character fic from a story that I was previously writing on Wattpad, but I removed it because of my inactivity on it. right now I'm thinking of revamping it to make it better. FYI Melanie's daughter has Waardenburg syndrome (a group of genetic conditions that can cause hearing loss and changes in coloring (pigmentation) of the hair, skin, and eyes) so when you see descriptions of "white hair" that is what's being described.
w .c - 7.9k
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July 1999
18 and pregnant. Yep, Foxy is really living her best life right now. Being an 18-year-old black pregnant woman and walking down the cold, dark Los Angeles streets after being kicked out. Sounds like a stereotypical statistic if you ask her. First, she was kicked out by her bible-thumping mother and then by her baby's father who she thought would step up to the plate. But no, he laughed in her face and told her to kick rocks, so in response, Foxy did what first came to her mind. Kicked him square in the dick and punched him in the nose, breaking it. He screamed in pain while she walked off, but she didn't care. She walked with her head held high and went to the only place that she hoped would welcome her with open arms and even a job.
After walking for what seemed hours, she finally showed up at the entrance of a mixed martial arts gym run by her grandfather and his late best friend, Jin Tsukiyama. It was really late at night, around 2 am, but the lights were still on. Carefully pushing the door she made her way inside the warm dim-lit gym and walked towards where the light was coming from. Her eyes caught what seemed to be an office and quickly walked in only to see that no one is there.
"Papa!", she yelled starting to become a bit worried when she didn't get a response. Someone is obviously here. She heard a muffled voice come from the other door in the dimly lit office. Grabbing a steel rod that laid loose on the floor, she walked towards the door "Papa Russ, it's me! You're only granddaughter, Foxy!"
"Didn't know Russell had a granddaughter-", Melanie screamed and swung the steel rod so hard she could've knocked the person's head off. Instead, she hit the office chair in front of her and it flew across the room. She gripped the rod like a baseball bat and looked at who the voice belonged to. Some white boy. He stood at about 5'3 with his hands in his pockets wearing a tired, irritated, but also alert face. He was wearing black sweats, a white t-shirt, and his hair was styled in an undercut but it looked like bedhead so it was clear that he just woke up. His grey-cut-shaped eyes stared her down as if he was ready for any attack to come his way. He started to walk towards her, but her grip got tighter on the steel rod and she prepared herself to swing again.
"You better not stop another foot towards me, shorty. I'll knock your head clean off", The stoic man rolled his eyes, but he did stop walking so he wouldn't scare her. "Now, who are you and where is my papa?"
The man licked his lips and ran his hands over his face to wake himself up. Deciding against telling his name to the girl, he pointed towards the door that she previously heard the muffles. She side-eyed him and walked towards the door. This gave the man an opportunity to overlook her features. Her clothes were soaking wet as well as her curly hair. The red sweats she sported were beginning to look blood-red, her long sleeve black shirt clung to her arms and chest like it was permanently attached to her skin, water drops slid down her chubby cheeks and down her neck. Her brown eyes seemed a bit dull, and as a whole her body language was tired but she mustered up enough strength to attack if needed. The man looked her over once more before connecting his eyes to the door she was walking towards.
"L! YOU AWAKE IN THERE BOY!?", A deep voice behind the door boomed. She noticed it was the sound of her papa. She dropped the rod, flung the door open, and wrapped her soaking wet arms around her papa's warm body.
He was standing in shock, wondering why his granddaughter was hugging him while she was soaking wet at 2 am. He hugged her back briefly and pulled her back to study her face. She was tired, her eyes were dull, her face was long, and her body looked so tired. He grimaced at her wet clothes and looked at the stoic man. The man knew that Russ wanted for her to have some warm clothes so he departed and went to get what was requested.
"What you doing here at almost 3 in the morning, little girl? Your momma ain't call me, I mean she never does but she would at least tell me if you were coming at the devil's hour."
The young mother dropped her arms from her grandpa and looked at the ground trying to hold back her tears. She was scared. This is the last place she could turn to and if he rejects her now, she would have no one. Even though she is scared, she knew better than to lie about something like this. If he does decide to reject her, she would move along and let the universe decide her next steps. She took a deep breath and looked at her grandfather dead in his eyes.
"I'm pregnant. Momma kicked me out and the baby's father doesn't want anything to do with me. I would really appreciate it if you could let me stay with you and help me through this. Now if you don't want to help I'll just take some warm clothes and lea-"
"Shut the hell up," Her face went from serious to shocked hearing her papa tell her to shut up. "Don't ever put me in the same box as your mother. I would never turn my back on you. Now yes, you are in a serious situation but you are my only granddaughter and I couldn't bear the thought of you or my grandbaby getting hurt in these streets. Now L went to get you some warm clothes, I just gotta find a place for you to lay your hea-"
"She can sleep in my bed. I'm not going back to sleep anyway. Pregnant women need to sleep in a bed not a futon, Russell.", Foxy turned her head to the stoic man who is now standing a foot away from her. She glared at him, but it softened when she saw the clothes in his hand. She gently took them and looked down slightly inspecting them.
"You weren't supposed to hear that.", the young girl mumbled, fiddling with the string on the dry sweats. The raven-haired man rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Tch, the walls are thin. You can't keep a secret even if you tried. I laid down some new sheets and extra blankets. I put a towel on top so you can shower. You smell like shit.", L walked past the both of them and sat behind the empty office desks occupying himself on the computer. She began to say something until her grandfather turned her towards the door.
"That's just how he talks. Don't worry, when you get to know him more you'll get used to it and understand why. Now go take a shower and get some rest. Oh, and everyone got a job around here, so you'll be our new receptionist.", he patted his granddaughter on the back in a loving way why she smiled at him appreciatively. They exchanged "I love you's" and she went to end off her rough night leaving the two men alone.
Russell turned his head to L, whose head was leaned back against the chair, and his eyes closed. Russell knew the 19-year-old wasn't asleep so he decided to bring the most important thing to his attention.
"Levi," the raven head opened his eyes full alert and turned towards Russell. It wasn't often when the old man used his real name, but when he did the man meant business. "Whenever I ain't here, look after my grandbaby and her little one. She means the world to me. If a woman named Rhonda Smalls comes up in here looking for her, don't let her step past that desk out front. That's that girl crazy controlling ass momma. She already drove my son to his grave, she ain't gon kill my babygirl too. You understand me, boy?"
"Tu as ma parole, Russell." You have my word, Russell.
December 31st, 1999
5 months pregnant
"You never told me your last name, Levi."
"Has anyone ever told you that you are a nosey little shit?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you're too small to be acting so damn big?"
"Trust me, ma chérie, I'm big enough where it counts. Now, why don't you go rest them swollen feet and tend to those three customers that just came through the doors instead of harassing me while I'm training."
Foxy, well Levi now knows her real name is Melanie, looked at him with big eyes. Levi just smirked and glanced at her while still sending uppercuts to the punching bag. Just as much as she loved annoying him, he loved making her flustered by the little slick things he said to her. She huffed and mumbled "ole freaky, short, French-speaking motherfucker" thinking he wouldn't hear her, but he did, he just chose not to confront her. She waddled over to her desk and tended to two parents and their son who seemed to want to know more about the facility.
Over the past five months, Melanie and Levi have grown closer and have developed their own special relationship. They weren't in love or anything but they were happy and appreciated each other's presence. After the rainy night when Melanie first stumbled in, Levi was distant. He didn't know how to deal with a pregnant woman, let alone a pregnant woman that was the granddaughter of his trainer. He didn't break his word to Russell while keeping this distance though. He would never lead Russell on like that. Levi would do subtle things like make her favorite drink and leave it by her bedside, made her a plate of food when he cooked, leave her favorite snacks by her bedside when she was running low, he would help her with some of the receptionist tasks that seemed a bit more difficult for her, and he even comes with her to her monthly check-ups to make sure the baby was healthy and growing properly. The doctors always asked if he was the father, but Melanie always told them he was just a really good friend. At first, he was doing it simply for Russell, but the more he was around her he began to do these things purely because he wanted to whether Russell told him to or not. After one encounter though, he finally realized the true reason he did these things for her.....
~Flashback~
November 15th, 1999
4 months pregnant
It was around 8 at night and Melanie was trying to organize the sparring partners for training the next day, but it has proven to be difficult when she didn't know a lick about any of the fighters fighting styles and techniques. She sighed and decided to ask the only other person that could help her since her grandfather was dead asleep to the world. She waddled to the man's room and softly knocked on his door.
"Leviiiii", she sang
No response.
"Leviiiiiiiii", she sang a bit longer.
No response, but a shuffle behind the door is heard.
"I really need help with matching the sparring partners for tomorrrrrr-wooooah," The door was flung open and Melanie was met with a sight that she wasn't afraid to acknowledge. A shirtless Levi with gray sweats hanging around his hips and a gold chain around his neck. "You can grate cheese on them bad boys. I bet all the girlies around the way like you, white boy."
Levi looked at the pregnant woman with a neutral face, but if you looked closely his ears were tinted red. He rolled his eyes and walked around the woman and made his way to her desk. He grimaced at the messy papers and decided he'll organize it tomorrow for her. She sat down next to him and began to show him what she had so far.
"Okay so at first I put Reece with Zolch, but then I was like no because Zolch is an unpredictable maniac. Oh, and I was thinking that you maybe you and that Smith cat have different partners other than yourselves. I just need help with Ross, Dazai, LoveHeart, and Archie. I think that-", Levi interrupted her by taking the papers from her small hands and looked over her pairings.
She huffed and mumbled "well shit" under her breath at the sudden interruption. Levi interrupted her for two reasons, 1) her pairings were horrible besides Reece and Zolch. Fighting an unpredictable fighter keeps the opponent on their toes and forces them to use new techniques. 2) He was beginning to stare at her a bit too long. Levi found Melanie beautiful. Ethereal if you say. She reminded him of his mother with her caring, outgoing, and strong personality. She gave him an innocent, child-like view of life despite the things she has been through. He didn't get along with a lot his age besides his close friends Erwin and Farlan, so when Melanie peaked his interests it genuinely shocked him in more ways than one. She is a special girl and he wonders why anyone would treat her any less. But then again, the world is shitty and doesn't care how special you are.
"Reece and Zolch are good. He needs to stop using the same shitty technique and give his opponent a surprise. Zolch is unpredictable but she strategic with her moves. Smith is with me 'cause I like whooping his ass. Seeing those thick-ass eyebrows makes me want to throw him across the ring. Dazai is similar to Zolch but he's more on the wild side and doesn't think his moves through. Put him with Ross. He's more strategic and it'll make Dazai think instead of going in the fucking ring blind like a shithead. Archie-", A sharp gasp was let out by the woman, interrupting him. He focused his attention on her while she looked down at her stomach trying to make sure she felt what she felt.
"You okay? You need to lay down or some-"
"It kicked...." she gasped.
Levi's eyes grew big, shocked at the girl's words. The baby kicked? That little fucker in her stomach kicked her. He looked at her face and saw the biggest smile he has ever seen. The baby must have kicked again because she began to get giddier and she even squealed.
"Oh my goooood, Levi, my baby is kicking! Oh my god, oh my gooood, I'm gonna cry. I'm gonna fucking cry! Levi, feel it, oh my god!", Melanie exclaimed in pure joy.
Melanie snatched his hand and rested it where the baby was kicking. His face grew warmer and his eyes grew even bigger at the sudden contact between him and the baby. Feeling the same outline of a foot against his hand made him grow warm inside. He never felt like this and needless to say. he liked the feeling. He felt a connection with the baby as well as Melanie. He felt like everything was alright in the world when he was with her.
"Wow.........that little shit is really moving, huh?", he voiced in astonishment. Melanie playfully punched him in the shoulder.
"My baby is not a little shit, you dick.", Melanie scoffed while letting go of his wrist, leaning back against the chair. Levi never moved his hand away though. He gently rubbed her stomach and occasionally felt a little kick to his hand.
"Yes, they are. And they gonna be a shitty baby. Shitting left and right. Hell, they probably shitting in there right now.", Melanie laughed at how he sounded so serious even though he was clearly joking.
"Boy shut up. What's up with you and shit? Was that your first word as a kid?", she questioned as she cocked her head to the side.
"Actually no. My first word was 'fuck'. My uncle used every swear word in the book around me. 'Shit' is just a good way to describe everything around me. This shitshow of a neighborhood, this shitty gym, my shitty career, your shitty ass.", Melanie gasped.
"I ain't fucking shitty. Take that shit back.", Levi shook his head, still focused on her belly.
"I ain't taking shit back, shitty. You make the bathroom stink.", Levi playfully scoffed.
"Fuck you, no I don't. That be Papa. He more shitty than me and you combined.", she huffed.
They both laughed at their "shitty" comments before falling into a comfortable silence. Melanie took this time to admire him. He looked soft, at peace. He had a look of warmth while keeping his attention on her stomach. His grey eyes sparkled under the moonlight and she swore she saw a smile fall on his lips. The feeling of his warm hand against her stomach made her feel warm inside. She always felt warm around him. She felt like everything was alright in the world when she was with him. She liked him and she didn't have a problem with these feelings.
Eventually, Levi looked up and they made eye contact. At first, he was in shock because, why was she staring at him? Then his stare softened and he decided to take this moment in. Everything felt warm on this cold LA night with her. Nothing could go wrong right at this moment because she was right here. That's when he realized. He liked her. He liked her personality, he liked her smile, he liked her chubby cheeks, he liked the mole that was under her eye, he liked her presence overall.
"Levi..." Melanie mumbled.
He blinked and floated back down to reality.
"Hmmm," he hummed deep in his throat.
"You know, you ummm, you just said all that out loud?", she spoke out nervously.
On the outside, Levi remained with a neutral face, but on the inside, his brain went on flatline. He felt like a demon just sucked his soul right out of his body. If he was alone right now he would most likely give himself the most brutal beating in history. He couldn't stay quiet for long so he attempted to express himself. That was one thing he knew he couldn't do, but he will try, for her. He cleared his throat and sat up slightly moving his hand away from Melanie's stomach.
"I got shitty feelings for you, so what? You gonna throw it back in my face or something?", he sounded very intimidating, but Melanie knew a nervous face when she saw one. This face was just easier to read because he was terrible at hiding the blush on his ears.
She smirked at kept the eye contact they had been having. She leaned a bit closer to his face and, yes, that made his heart fall to his ass. Their faces were now inches apart and Levi anticipated what the doe-eyed woman would do next.
"What if I had shitty feelings for you too?", He was silent. She understands that Levi wasn't the best at expressing himself through words, unless it's by accident of course, so she remained silent as well waiting for a silent gesture.
Ever so slowly, his forehead came and rests against Melanie's, causing her eyes to flutter closed. His minty breath tickled her lips making her shiver in anticipation. He reached out to touch her, laying his hand right on her neck, caressing it gently. His touch was so warm, so tender, so light. She never felt anything like it before.
"Levi...." she breathed.
Levi's caress on her neck turned into a light grip, easing her lips to come closer to his. When his lips barely brushed hers, she couldn't help the sharp inhale she took. So light and so soft. She wanted the full thing. He let out an unstable breath and fully connected his lips to hers. His lips were soft and surprisingly supple, which was a beautiful compliment to his otherwise hard body. She could kiss him all day and all night if she could. The kiss that started out passionate and deep turned slow and lazy as time passed. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, not wanting this to end. His hands gripped her thighs and a soft moan escaped him when she began to idly play with his hair. This made her laugh softly and end the kiss much to his disappointment. They rest their foreheads against each other's and just stared lovingly into each other's eyes.
~End of Flashback~
After the confession and kiss, Melanie and Levi began to date. They've only been dating for a month and a half, but this was the best month and a half of his life as well as hers. They didn't care what anyone thought. People around the gym knew that Levi was not the real father of Melanie's baby and often wondered why he would date a pregnant woman. In all honesty, he didn't care that she was pregnant. No matter if they dated or not, he was going to be in her child's life because she genuinely wanted him there and he genuinely wanted to be there. Whether he was announced as an uncle, big brother, godfather, or even stepfather he was going to be there because he cared for her child just as much as he cared for Melanie herself.
March 1st, 2000
8 months pregnant
She relaxed her aching pregnant body in the warm bath, feeling all the knots begin to loosen. Her last-minute and very active baby shower just ended an hour ago and being able to relax after being entertained by the select people she cared about, felt like heaven. Babygirl was due in a month and Melanie is so excited, but she is not excited about the pain she has to endure. Babygirl has been pushing against her uterus causing Melanie to be in more pain and even stop her receptionist gig. Even with all the pain, she truly couldn't wait to hold her little girl.
"Lean back, dummy.", Melanie rolled her eyes at the man she was currently sharing a bath with, but she leaned back flush against his chest.
Levi suggested sharing a warm bath would help put her body at ease and while it did she also thinks Levi wanted to see her naked for the first time. Handsome perv. He rested his chin on top of her hair that was slicked into a low bun with messy coiled tendrils sticking out. He softly caressed her swollen stomach, hoping it was easing her pain.
"You liked the baby shower?", Levi questioned the woman who rested against his body.
"Yes. It was a pleasant surprise despite the fact that I ain't want one. But I ain't ungrateful so I appreciate you and papa doing that for me.", she turned her head up and smiled at him while he glared down.
"Tch. I planned and decorated everything, all your grandfather did was call everyone to come. I think I deserve a bit more thanks than him, yeah?", He whispered, leaning down, and pressing his lips on hers and she didn't hesitate to kiss back. They moved together slowly before pulling back and staring at each other.
"Thought of any names for her?", Melanie shook her head no and smiled.
"I might just name her after Papa's first wife, Diedra. I find the name beautiful. It's unique.", Levi hummed in agreement. He grabbed the towel that was floating in the water, lathered it with soap, and began to wash her stomach and anywhere else he could reach.
He was silent, too silent. Something was wrong and Melanie was sure of it. Was it bad? Was it good but a bad outcome would come out of it. It didn't make her nervous, but it did worry her. Levi never had a problem talking about things since they now have been together for 4 months and counting. He opened up to her about his mother, his uncle, his life on the streets, him getting shot, and being affiliated with the Crips. When he told her that, at first, she thought he was kidding. But the solemn look on his face proved that he wasn't fucking around. Whatever he was about to say, she hoped that it won't be too horrible to hear.
"Tell me. You a lil too quiet for me and it's making me worry. You in trouble or something?", he chuckled and she felt his head shake no.
"It's funny how you can tell the difference between my good silence and bad silence," Melanie hummed in agreement, "It's actually good news and bad news. The good news, I landed a big fight. One that could really get my name out there in MMA. If it goes well, I'll be lining up fights left and right and I'll be getting a hefty check-"
Melanie squealed switching her position to kneel in front of him, splashing some of the warm water over the tub. She gripped his face and brought him closer, covering his face with kisses. Levi laughed softly, letting Melanie do as she pleased.
"That's so great, boo, I'm so proud of you! But you did say bad news so, come on. Tell me so I can cry and blame the hormones.", Melanie chuckled softly.
Levi sighed. Shifting positions again, they were now sitting in the lotus position, with Levi's hands resting on her lower back and Melanie's around his neck. Levi stayed silent for a couple more seconds easing himself to tell her the destination of said fights. She placed a kiss on his nose to reassure him that everything was fine and she would completely understand what was going to be revealed.
"My first fight is gonna be in New York and I have to leave on the 31st of this month. At first, I had to leave in a week, but I told the agent to give me until the end of the month so I can be there for you and the baby. I might be doing a lot of fights in different states at that.", Levi looked a bit dejected about leaving Melanie and the baby, but Melanie didn't. She had other plans in mind.
"We'll come with you.", Levi looked at Melanie like she just said Babygirl was his daughter.
"Wha- No, you can't just up and leave like that with the baby. It's gonna be a lot of traveling and I don't want you or her getting sick. And what about the old ma-", Melanie hushed Levi with a kiss on lips. When Levi settled, she pulled away and gave him a weak smile.
"I want to. Levi, you are so special to me. This has been the happiest 4 months of my life and I can't even imagine spending a day without you. And what's so bad about me coming? It's not like I got anything here with me anyways besides Papa. I ain't got no home and I never did. Until I met you," She cupped his reddening cheeks and gently caressed her thumbs over them, "Levi, what I'm saying is that-that I love you so much. I know 4 months ain't enough to develop such deep feelings, but it's just enough for me. I want to be everywhere with you. Just the three of us, baby."
She took one of his hands that were gripping the absolute shit out of her thigh and rested it on her stomach where Diedra resided. Levi was at a loss for words. She loves him? She was this bold to tell him now. In the dead of the night. This absolute angel wanted to be wherever he was? He couldn't believe it, but he enjoyed this. Someone loving him. It felt so.....right. He felt loved, something that he hasn't felt since he was 10-years-old. Many women have told Levi that they loved him, but they only said it to get something out of him. With Melanie, it poured out of her like a warm light. It felt real, and he felt the same way. He just stared at her frozen like an idiot trying to make sure he was in the right world. What snapped him out of his trance was the small kick to his hand. He looked down, then looked back up to Melanie's teary eyes.
"Wait, why are you crying? Don't fucking cry," He cupped her cheeks and pecked her lips excessively, "I love you, ma cherie. And I love the little shit, too. I was just shocked 's all."
She nodded wiping her tears, giving him a strained smile.
"If you really want to, you can come to every fight with me. I'm just worried, you know? People and their shitty germs being all around you and her," he grimaced, "And then the men. I swear if any of those sweaty, meathead fucks try to push up on you they better hope they don't get in the ring with me. It'll be their last fucking day walking."
"Oooooh I love it when you threaten people for my honor.", Melanie whispered while biting her lip.
Levi chuckled, playfully pushing her forehead back.
"Don't start all that 'cause as soon as I get to touching you start going 'noooo my stomach too big', 'what if your dick hits the baby head?', 'when you eat me out, I won't be able to see your head cause her big-headed ass is in the way'. Like you know I don't care about any of that. You were beautiful when I first saw you and you look beautiful now.", The pregnant woman gave Levi a stank face.
"Don't start all that sappy shit just cause we confessed. Where the grumpy, rude, old, but very much young man I first met?", she asked, flicking water in his face. Levi flinched at the impact and gave Melanie a straight face.
"He fell in love with your shitty ass."
"FUCK YOU BITCH!"
March 31st, 2000
9 months pregnant ( 4 days overdue)
"Papa, me and Diedra are fine...Haha, no I feel fine, besides her pressing against my uterus, I'm good enough to attend his fight...Levi? Oh, he's.... he's pretty mad, I think. He's been really quiet since we got back from the conference, just pacing around and punching his fist. I think that Arlert nigga said something to piss him off......Yeah, I'll talk to him. Make sure he doesn't let whatever he said hang over him too much.....We love you too, papa. Bye..."
Melanie hung up the phone and turned to a zoned-out Levi. He's been quiet all morning and she feels the slight anger radiating off of him. It's his first big fight compared to his amateur fights and him getting angry is not the best thing right now. Levi is going to be fighting against a well-known fighter, Aaron Arlert. He isn't a top-tier fighter but he made it in the Top 20 in less than a year due to his strategic and quick moves. He is also well known for being an arrogant, manipulative, misogynistic prick, that allegedly cheats on his wife who takes care of their young son. Levi did not want to fight him to be his first fight. He hates people like Aaron. People who think they're all that and feel that they are entitled to everything. People that are controlling and don't care about anyone's feelings. People constantly disrespect women, but always expect them to grovel at their feet. People like his father.
At first, Levi finally processed and calmed himself over the fact that he is going to fight Aaron Arlet and he will, hopefully, lay him on his ass. Unfortunately, Levi got angered all over again nearing the end of the conference when Aaron said something fetishizing and degrading about Melanie to him. Of course, when Aaron said such a thing in his ear during the handshake he didn't say anything, but he did give him the deadliest glare that spoke the words "I'm going to fucking kill you." Levi did not tell Melanie any of what Aaron said. Why? Because and angry Melanie meant a stressed Melanie and he didn't want to stress her to the point that her water broke right before the fight. Also because Melanie is a violent person, like really violent. No, he has not seen Melanie fight, but she has told him stories of altercations she had when attending middle and high school. Let's just say, she is a weapon grabber and won't stop hitting until she sees blood. The same way Levi used to fight before he got into mixed martial arts. They really are a match made in heaven.
"Baby......Boo......Poohbear......PoohPooh......Shorty......Shortstack......SHITHEAD!?? GODDAMN, YOU DON'T HEAR ME TALKING?, " Levi turned to an annoyed Melanie, "I gotta insult your ass for you to hear me now? Anyways, are you good, baby? Did that nigga say something to piss my baby off-"
"Stop, Melanie", Levi sighed, "He did say something, but I'm not telling you. Just know it reminds me of something my father would say. I'll just beat the shit out of him so bad he'll never step foot in the fucking ring again."
Melanie sighed before standing up and waddling towards him until she was standing right in front of him. She ran her hands up his naked chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked down at her short stature and chuckled a bit.
"You're so short, ma cherie.", He mumbled before planting a soft peck to her lips.
"You only 2 inches taller, baby, don't get bigheaded," she moved her hands to rest upon his cheeks, "Don't let what he said cloud your thoughts, baby. I want you to go in that ring with a clear head. 'Cause if you don't, the anger will blind you and that's what he wants. You are smarter than that. You are stronger than that. You are Levi fucking Ackerman and you are gonna make a name for yourself in that goddamn ring and you are gonna kick his fucking ass. 'Cause if you don't, I'm gonna kick your ass."
Levi groaned throwing his head back.
"Fuuuuck, I love it when you threaten me, baby.", he muttered against her lips, biting the bottom one softly.
Melanie shivered and jumped back.
"Stop before you make my water break, being all seductive and shit."
"Ew, stay away, pissy."
"IT'S NOT PEE! IT'S AMNIOTIC FLUID!"
March 31st, 2000
Night of the fight
It's the final round of Levi's first fight and it was a struggle to watch. The first was going well. Levi was using quick moves, thinking on his feet, not letting Aaron get a hit in. He had a clear head. But Melanie noticed Aaron whisper something to Levi that made his eyes turn dark. She doesn't what he said, but Levi was not the type to get rattled easily so she knew that it was something that hit close to home. Meanwhile, Levi knew that the bastard was just saying things to get under his skin, but just hearing him disrespect Melanie when he was a whole wife and child just grinds his gears. He shows that he has no regard for the ones that love him. He's selfish. This made Levi turn blind and almost lose his mind in the second round.
Levi staggered to his corner breathing heavily. He wasn't thinking straight and he knows that if he keeps going he is going to lose. He was going to lose everything.
"Levi! LEVI FUCKING ACKERMAN," The said man looked up and turned around to see his very angry, pregnant, girlfriend waddling to the gate of the ring, "Tell me what he said right now! It's pissing you off so bad so you need to say it right now-"
"He was disrespecting you and saying some fetishizing shit about you. Saying how it must have been nice to fuck a black girl and knock her up. And other shit that I don't want to repeat cause it doesn't feel right coming out of my mouth. I know what he saying isn't true but, fuck, it's really fucking with me-", Melanie yelled Levi's name again making him go quiet.
"I know this irritates you, but Levi, I could give two fucks about what that racist, white, fuck has to say about me. I've heard worst from the fucking crackheads and prostitutes on 120th and Fig. You need to stop thinking about me. Okay? Clear your head, pull out your best strategies then pull out the hard-hitters when he least expects it. If you wanna defend my honor and your morals, do it, but don't be fucking stupid and let your anger blind you. Be smart about it, please. Baby, you gotta win this.", she was teary-eyed and holding her stomach, trying to calm herself.
Levi bit his lip looking at a stressed Melanie. He avoided telling her so he wouldn't stress her out, but it ended up stressing her even more. He kissed her forehead before leaning back and looking into her eyes.
"I'll win. And then we can go home and celebrate.", They smiled at each other and the signal rang, gaining attention that the final round was starting.
Levi and Aaron were circling around each other, throwing false attacks. Win, win, win. That's all Levi was thinking at the moment. Aaron, being the cocky arrogant bastard that he is, is just waiting for Levi with a smirk. He seems so unbothered like he is so sure that he can win. He sees Levi's height as a disadvantage, but what he doesn't know is that his height is actually something he should be concerned about. Levi's height makes it easier for him to get his opponent in hard-to-reach places.
Aaron finally makes the first move, first throwing his right fist towards Levi's left jaw. Levi saw it coming so he blocked the hit with his left forearm and sent a kick straight to Aaron's left rib cage, making him lose his balance a bit. That's how it went for the first 3 minutes of the fight. Swing, block, kick, blood splatter, repeat. Both of their moves were calculated and quick, leaving the audience in awe and anticipation wondering who was going to talk the crown and win. Standing near the gate of the ring, Melanie was looking at the fight closely looking over Levi's spent body. Come on baby, you can do this. She was nervous but she knew her man wouldn't just lay down and lose. And lose was something he never did.
At this time Aaron had managed to make Levi stumble down on the floor, taking this as an advantage to get on top of him. Big mistake. Even with Aaron getting on top of Levi, Levi was quick. He knew exactly how to get from under someone or at least beat someone's ass while that person is on top. Before Aaron could get any damaging hit on the smaller man, Levi locked his legs around Aaron and mustered up the strength to flip them over. Levi began releasing a series of punches to Aaron's face, leaving him no time to block his head or face. Before the ref could even run to them Aaron delivered a punch to Levi's rib then one to his jaw, making him roll off of Aaron. They both stood up quickly, coming towards each other. Aaron tried to make a quick kick to Levi's side but it seemed to be a bit slow. Catching him by the ankle, Levi kept a tight grip and planted several punches to Aaron's knee. Then a crack was heard. Levi instantly dropped his ankle and stepped looking at the injured man, rolling on the floor in pain.
Levi wasn't expecting him to break his leg, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the feeling of the ref lifting up his right arm and hearing the announcers saying Levi won the biggest fight of his life followed by the cheers of support. His face was neutral but on the inside, he was in utter shock. He knew he was going to lay Aaron on his face but to actually see him on the floor, brings him satisfaction. Snapping out of his clouded mind, he turns to find Melanie clapping her hands screaming in happiness that he won. He met her at the side of the gate she was on and smiled down at her.
"You fucking did that shit babe! You really broke his leg, oh my god! I'm so proud of yo- OH MY GOD", Melanie put a hand right under her stomach and started to breathe heavily while looking down. She looked up at Levi in awe, "M-my water just broke in the middle of a goddam MMA stadium. Oh shit!"
Melanie began to lose balance, luckily someone caught her and sat her on the floor. Levi ran to the gate opening and snatched it open so hard it nearly broke. He pushed people out the way and squatted next to his exhausted girlfriend. She grabbed his bloody hand, not caring about the mess, just wanting to feel his skin on hers.
"Melanie, we have to get to the hospit-", Melanie shook her head harshly, taking deep breathes, "I can't, it fucking hurts! She's not gonna wait, baby, she's coming now."
Levi groaned, not liking the fact that she's gonna give birth in such an unsanitary place, but he can't force her to move. He settled behind her and shifted her body to mean against his chest. When finally situated, he looked up at the crowd around him. It ticked him off.
"Is there a fucking doctor in this crowd or do you all just look fucking stupid?!", Levi said through his gritted teeth, while caressing his girlfriend's stomach.
A woman stumbled to the front and presented herself in front of the couple with towels and a bag of ice.
"I'm a surgeon, but my girlfriend is an OB/GYN. I can call her and she can walk me and you two through the labor while the ambulance is on their way?", Levi nodded and motioned for her to get down here and help, "Keep her cool with this ice. And you ma'am, I want you to take deep breathes and keep your breathing leveled. I don't want you to pass out or anything."
They both followed her directions and tried to calm themselves while the woman called her girlfriend. After two hours of screaming, crying, and cussing, the cry of a baby was finally heard throughout the stadium. The surgeon quickly cleaned the baby and wrapped her in a towel, but not before screaming out "ITS A GIRL!". Melanie and Levi already knew Diedra was a girl but they figured the woman announced it because everyone in the stadium was interested. Everyone cheered and congratulated the happy couple while still giving them space so they can bask in their new chapter in life.
"Here's your beautiful baby girl", The woman, whose name is Nastasia according to her girlfriend that blurted it out over the phone, handed Melanie her baby girl, "The ambulance is making their way downstairs, so you'll be transported soon.
Melanie thanked the woman even though her eyes were focused on her daughter. She's beautiful. My beautiful Diedra. Melanie slightly turned her head to look at the expression on Levi's face and laughed to see it in disgust. The baby was a bit slimy if you can say, but even with the slight disgust on his face he wiped the blood off her forehead and carefully took the baby from Melanie.
"Hey, mini shitty-", He didn't even flinch when Melanie flicked him in the head, "Your momma right here loves you so much. So do I. As your- your umm step-"
"No, as Diedra's father", Levi froze in shock. He slowly looked up at Melanie to see if she was serious. She was, "She's your daughter, I don't care. You didn't have to step up, but you did, so you're her father and I couldn't ask for a better person to be called that."
Levi was astonished. He has always seen Diedra as a daughter but never spoke it out loud to avoid overstepping any boundaries. Especially with Diedra's real father. What if he just so happened wanted to step up? It was slim to none but it was still a slim chance. But every time Melanie tried to include him he would just brush her off and tell her to stop playing on his phone. Whereas Levi, he did many things to support Melanie with her pregnancy. He grew to love both Melanie and Diedra dearly. So much that he couldn't see his future without either one of them. The stadium went quiet, along with the ambulance that had managed to get right on time to see Melanie's reaction.
"Marry me.", He stated never shifting his eyes from hers.
"Wha-"
"Marry me. Let's elope right now. We can call a pastor and do it right at the hospital. We can even do it right here for all I care, I know there has got to be someone in here that can marry us. I love you and Diedra, so I don't care. Just marry me please.", Levi said everything so confidently. Melanie was still in shock that Levi even said such a thing just because she said she considers him as Diedra's father.
"MARRY HIM!"
"If she doesn't marry his fine self, I will!"
"Ma'am, I know you are in shock but can you please answer so we can get you and your daughter to the hospital."
The feeling of being picked up and placed on a gurney brought her back down to the real world. Levi placed Diedra in her arms while walking beside her gurney waiting for an answer.
"Of course, I'll marry you, pooh", tears were running down her puffy cheeks, "Sorry I hesitated. I'm overwhelmed right now, especially with her."
They were now riding in the ambulance calming themselves from such a life-changing experience.
"So she's really gonna take me last name huh? I mean Diedra Fox sounds perfect alone.", Levi questioned, looking down at the mini Melanie. He noticed a lack of pigment on Diedra's forehead close to her hairline making a patch of her hair in the front a ghost white. He didn't bring attention to it seeing as Melanie didn't either because it is very noticeable. He felt a hand graze his cheek, so he looked up at her
"How about she takes both? I love my name, but I also love yours. So we can take your last name and still keep ours. Doesn't 'Diedra Fox-Ackerman' sound good?", She smiled down at the Ackerman man.
For the first time she has known Levi, he gave her a big smile nodding. He shifted his gaze, giving a loving look to his semi-white-haired baby girl.
"Ma petite tempête.", he whispered lowly. My little storm
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azazelsconfessional · 3 years
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((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.
Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.
I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.
Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.
(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)
(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)
So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.
BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!
Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.
But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.
That's where a profile comes in!
Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!
What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?
The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.
You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.
Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set
Name: Azazel
Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)
Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)
Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?
Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.
Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years
Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries
Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see
Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.
He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.
Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .
If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!
I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.
Name: Azazel
Species: anthropomorphic goat
Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)
Age: unquestionably an adult
Origins: Eden
Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries
Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?
Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?
Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.
As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!
Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.
Name: Kezia
Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]
Species: Human
Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)
Age: mid 20's~early 30's?
Apperance age: older than she looks?
Origins: Tokyo?
Profession: Professor; Witch
Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.
Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.
History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.
That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.
Name: Kezia
Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]
Species: Human
Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)
Age: mid 20's~early 30's?
Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older
Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world
Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch
Role & Rule: [?] & [?]
Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .
Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.
Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.
She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.
She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?
History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.
At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.
. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.
I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.
I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.
. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))
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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years
Text
The Alienist and the Soprano
Chapter 13: The Holidays
A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!
Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!
Warnings: Age gap, Victorian Christmas, mentions of past abuse, but much fluff! I had done my research on what Christmas was like back then, as well as the Hanukah dates and it seems 1897 was a big year; “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” was published in September of 1897, electric Christmas lights were growing in popularity and the unification of the boroughs in New York was official on New Years. And there is your history lesson of the day.
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The air grew colder as Laszlo and Evelina’s relationship grew warmer. Evelina was spending more time with the team, just as Laszlo was becoming more and more acquainted with Evelina’s opera friends. Compared, they were a more rambunctious group, and she knew that Laszlo had his limits, but admired him for trying so hard. Maria often helped Laszlo along when Evelina was not by his side and he felt immensely grateful to her for guiding him through the corral. At first, her opera friends hadn’t been sure of Laszlo, unsure of this man who makes a living in psychoanalyzing people, who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, but they always caught the spark of joy in his eyes when Evelina came beside him, the way he tried so hard for her. Even if he couldn’t keep up with them, they still saw the utter devotion between the pair and that was enough for them to approve the relationship.
It was a time for the singers to rest themselves for The Nutcracker to be performed, and a real treat for them all. It had done so well last Christmas that the opera house had decided to do it again, and who knows, perhaps it will become a Christmas tradition.
As November closed in, Evelina had been helping Sara scout out locations for her new agency, hoping that she’ll find it before the weather turned too cold to be out scouting. As they looked around a space, Evelina asked Sara a few questions. “What will you require of your workers to do?”
“Just as any other detective agency will have, secretaries, detectives. Roosevelt has agreed to let the officers help us whenever we need it, which must mean he bears no ill will towards my leaving. Hmm, no, too small. I need at least four rooms; this will not do.” They stepped out into the cool air, leaving them both to shiver. “Winter certainly is coming, there is no doubt.”
“Yes, that shall mean Christmas!” Evelina replied excitedly. “It’s my favorite time of year. Everything looks so magical with the snow and the good cheer, and of course the music.”
“Well, then you might convince Laszlo to have a party this year. He doesn’t celebrate it, at least, from what I have known of him. I wonder if it comes from an unhappy memory,” Sara mused.
“Then I shall make it my duty to give him a Christmas full of happiness. The opera will be performing The Nutcracker, perhaps I will invite him to a performance then have a party. It’ll only be a small affair, you, John, and the Isaacson Brothers.”
Sara looked at her strangely then asked, “You are aware that they are Jewish, don’t you?”
“I am more than aware, in fact, I know that it starts on the nineteenth of December and ends on the twenty-seventh. And it doesn’t have to necessarily be a Christmas party, but a holiday party. A celebration of simply being together and friends. Surely, Laszlo couldn’t object to that.”
Wrapping her arm around Evelina’s, Sara couldn’t help but to smile. “Not when you put it that way, he wouldn’t.”
Laszlo visited just shortly after the ladies returned home, feeling too frozen to go any further. “And how has the property hunting been going for you?”
Sara groaned, “Don’t mention it. It feels as if I am never going to find the perfect place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself a good stiff drink,” she huffed as she went off to the kitchen, leaving Evelina and Laszlo alone in the den.”
Now was the perfect time for her to ask the question. “Laszlo, Christmas is coming soon, and I was wondering what it is that you do for the holidays?”
“Well, Christmas Eve, I spend it with the children who are left behind at the institute, watch them open their gifts in the morning then return home for a quiet day in.”
“Oh, Laszlo,” she said, “I love that you take care of your children, but what about yourself? Doesn’t it get to be a bit lonely?”
He pursed his lips in thought then said, “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was better than what I used to have when I was younger. Those were the better days. We hosted a fine Christmas party, my father was at his best and my mother wore her finest, and the house looked like a picture book. But” he said, with matter-of-fact tone, “When the party was over, it wasn’t so picturesque.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” she softly affirmed.
“No, I want to, and we promised, no secrets.” It was true, after the absolute confusion that came from not sharing their feelings and the disaster that followed, they had agreed that nothing would be held back. “Santa was not something told in my household, but rather the fear of God. He’d make me read the bible which involved the birth of Christ, but any little flaw, hesitation or stutter and he’d beat me while calling me a blasphemer for ruining the scripture.”
She wanted to ask how that was better than the usual days, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “My mum died just a week before Christmas, and to celebrate it without her was awful. Winston was not manageable during those times,” she paused after the mention of her brother, and Laszlo saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “When he was locked up, that first Christmas, my father broke down, he felt he had broken his promise to my mother in keeping the family together. Even though I told him that he was not to blame for Winston’s actions, every year after, I could see the echo of pain in his eyes. This will be my first Christmas without any of them.”
Laszlo lifted his hand, unsure if he ought to reach out and comfort her, and knowing that she’d not only appreciate it, but that he’d have to get used being open with another, he placed a hand on top of hers, which rested on her lap. It was the right move to do, as it had made her smile and lean in to rest her head against his shoulder. Laszlo felt a small surge of pride in himself, he was doing better in showing intimacy and he liked it.
Having a party to plan helped to fill Evelina’s free time from the opera, but most importantly, it allowed her the chance to make a surprise for Laszlo. Thanks to her covert cleverness, she found out which children will be spending Christmas at the institute and with the permission of the staff, she managed to pull them together to work on a surprise for him. They nearly got caught once, Laszlo came back from a meeting a bit sooner than Evelina expected, but she managed to play it off well, saying that she had been bored and wanted to play the piano for the children.
Stevie proved to be rather helpful in preparing Christmas at Laszlo’s home and was more than happy to be commissioned by Evelina to help with the planning. He scoured out the best decorations and the best tree to have standing in Laszlo’s den, and when he was finished with it, even he could admit he did a rather fine job. There was one thing that Laszlo had a hand in the decorations, and it was the purchase of these new electric string lights, meant to replace candles, and it was a smart choice, and in Evelina’s words, magical. As Stevie was busy with the decorations, Evelina was off to work with the invites and the Isaacson Brothers were surprised to say the least but were still very pleased to be invited to such a party, knowing how much it meant to her. Sara had been the first unofficial guest invited and John most certainly was not one to pass up a party.
Christmas Eve arrived and Evelina dressed herself in her green and red velvet walking gown, truly getting into the spirit and went to the institute to see Laszlo. Many of the parents came to take their children home for the holidays and as much as it was a wonderful sight to see parents not forsake their little ones, it was doubly heartbreaking to see those few whose parents never came. It was Laszlo and Evelina’s special mission to make sure that they still received the experience that they would have had if they were home, even carrying on the duty of decorating the tree and great hall for the children to enjoy. Most of the staff could go home to spend it with their family, but there were a few who did not have a family of their own who stayed and happily joined in the festivities with the children.
Daylight had gone when was a surprise waiting at the front door, and who would have guessed that Santa would come and see the children of the Kreizler Institute? Watching John all dressed up as Santa was a delight, especially when the younger children climbed on his lap and gave “Santa” a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. It didn’t take much convincing, for John thought it a wonderful idea and he could not say no to Evelina’s sweet intentions, even if it made him look a bit silly. Sara was the unofficial Mrs. Claus, dressed in her lovely green evening gown and many of the children loved going up to her and asking questions of the North Pole, truly convinced that she was indeed the wife of Santa. She watched John take in the children’s excitement with great stride and enjoyment and thought it the finest thing she had ever seen, and her heart swelled at the thought of him doing this for the children.
When John and Sara left, it was time to show off Evelina’s surprise. Gathering the children up, she sat at the piano and began to play. Laszlo watched with wonder and love as Evelina led the children in a most heavenly rendition of Ding Dong Merrily On High, the children looked so happy to be a part of something. He wasn’t even bothered by the religious overtones of the song; he just enjoyed the sweet voices that sang in perfect harmony and was touched to see that his love put so much effort into surprising him.
Soon, it got to be bedtime and the children were escorted back their rooms, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival and the staff to their rooms. Usually, Laszlo was the only one to take up the duty of stuffing the stockings and providing the children with gift, making sure each one got an equal amount from Santa. Evelina stayed with him and happily helped to stuff the stockings, despite her own sleepiness. It was an endearing sight, the pair of them on the floor, helping to stuff stockings and wrap presents.
“How long have you done this?”
“Ever since the institute was opened. It was quite sad to see those children left behind to have nothing, so I made sure to carry on the tradition of Santa. You may think that I do not agree with the idea of telling fantastical stories to children, but I think it is important in the development of a child. It stimulates their creativity as well as teaches them lessons.”
Evelina smiled and started with, “Don’t laugh, but I still believe in Santa. Oh, I don’t mean that there is an actual person who goes about in a flying sleigh and gives presents to all children around the world, but the idea of him. Do you remember back in September there was that article answering a little girl’s question of if there was a Santa? That article was a wonderful summation of how I feel about Santa. How there is someone who can be full of good cheer and selflessness and the possibility that we could be just like him. Like this, right now. The fact that you go out of your way to make sure these children have a merry Christmas, to never make them feel left out, it is very Kris Kringle of you. And I am sure you’d look dashing in red.” His deep blush only proved her right.
It was nearing midnight when they had finished and left the institute and despite the chill, they walked through the snowy streets, enjoying the calm and winter beauty. “I am sorry if this wasn’t what you had imagined you’d spend your Christmas Eve.”
“Indeed, it was far better than I could hope. To help give children a good time, to create magic and now walking home with you, it is wonderful.” The church bells tolled, and they stopped to listen to the lovely knells as it chimed Christmas day. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”
Laszlo smiled, knowing that she gave him at last an endearment. “Frohe Weihnachten, meine liebe.”
Laszlo came to pick up Evelina early on Christmas day so she could be at the institute before the children woke and watch with Laszlo as they opened their gifts from Santa as well as from Laszlo himself. She loved the glimmer in his eyes when looking at the children enjoying themselves, forgetting their woes and problems, glad to see that they would have a normal childhood that he never had. Once he was sure that the children were taken care of, the pair went off to enjoy Christmas themselves. It had been purely coincidental, but Laszlo wore his dashing green vest and tie while Evelina wore her lovely red satin dress, looking as if they had coordinated with the holiday and each other, anyone who didn’t know them would have been certain they were husband and wife.
The party was beginning at noon, giving time to everyone that was coming to enjoy their morning and get ready to spend it together. Sara had been the first to arrive, no surprise, the Isaacson Brothers came, Marcus brought along his dear Esther and her daughter, and then John. Laszlo had almost thought that all the guest had arrived, when Stevie entered and said, “We’ve got two more guests!”
Laszlo looked perplexed, for who else could come, and Evelina watched in amusement as his mouth fell agape as Cyrus walked in with his niece, Joanna, looking rather fine in their Sunday best. Laszlo jumped up from his seat and went to his old employee and friend. “Cyrus! How are you? I didn’t know you were coming.”
“No, but Miss Lind did. Stevie brought Miss Lind to my work and she had personally invited me to the party, as well as Joanna. It was wonderful of her to come to me personally.”
Evelina stood and warmly greeted Cyrus and Joanna. “I am so glad you came. Laszlo told me so much of you and I just had to properly get to know his dear friend.”
“And I am honored to know the woman who could convince him to throw such a party,” Cyrus laughed heartily.
Evelina had been a wonderful hostess, making sure everyone had been attended to, even making sure Stevie felt welcomed in the celebrations and had helped Lucius feel a bit more at ease with the help of Joanna, of which the pair seemed quite intrigued by each other. Laszlo watched in wonder of how she could manage to move around with grace, kindness and energy when he still had difficulty to be as open to those of whom he feels are his friends. He admired her and was honored to be the man of whom she loved above others.
The afternoon was spent playing games, Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and Charades. Laszlo had sat out of Blind Man’s Bluff, but allowed himself to be dragged into Charades and Yes and No. He was afraid of appearing to look ridiculous, but Evelina argued that everyone was doing the same, so they all looked the same amount of ridiculousness. The luncheon was informal, people made their own plates and sat around Laszlo’s den, like they all were old friends, and it was a kind of homey feeling that Laszlo had never felt before, it was warm, safe, good.
It would not be a good party without a mistletoe, at least according to John, who hung it over his friend’s head and teased that someone ought to kiss him or else he will. Evelina more than happily rose to the challenge, making it the second kiss that the pair had shared. She challenged John to hang it over his head and get a kiss, or else he’ll have to kiss the lizard at the institute, and just as she hoped, Sara decided to help him out by placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, but he turned on accident and the pair had kissed on the lips. The blush on their faces told so much and Evelina buried her face in Laszlo’s chest to try and stop her smile from being noticed, but she spotted something beyond him. Moving towards it, she couldn’t help but to admire the beautiful piano. Laszlo came up beside her and said, “You may play on it whenever you wish. It’ll be nice to see that old thing getting some use. I haven’t played in so long.”
“You played?” She had never known that Laszlo used to play, at least before the incident.
“Yes. I was quite good.”
“Better than good,” Sara interjected, coming in the conversation, hoping to escape her situation. “His name was in all the papers; he could have been a great pianist.”
“Why don’t we do gifts?” Evelina suggested, hoping to prevent Laszlo from falling into his darker thoughts, and she excitedly handed out her gifts. They weren’t expensive gifts, but they were heartfelt and personal to each, and that meant more than anything in the world, even Stevie, who hadn’t expected to get a gift and didn’t usually like to be sentimental, but even he couldn’t refuse the copy of An Anarchic Adventure by Jules Verne, his favorite author. Laszlo had received a copy of The Psychology of Emotions by Théodule-Armand Ribot, of whom Laszlo had been fascinated with.
Laszlo made himself go last, giving everyone incredible gifts; Stevie getting his very first shaving kit as he was now a young man, Esther and her daughter fine new dresses, to name a few, and lastly went to Evelina, giving her a box. When she opened it, it was a beautiful toiletry box, made of a dark wood and lined with pink velvet. Opening one of the drawers, she noticed two large and full bottles of her perfume, ‘Fantasia de Fleurs’. “Oh, Laszlo! This is too much! And on top of that, two bottles of my perfume?”
“It is not too much,” he countered, “And besides, it is for selfish reasons too, for I love your scent, perhaps a bit too much,” he admits with a blush across his cheeks. “No one else should buy this for you but myself.”
It was true; when she did first receive this, it was meant to be a bribe gift from one of the patrons at the opera, but she loved the scent too much to toss it away. To have Laszlo buy it for her not only was sweet, but intimate, and she liked that he felt way, wanting no other to buy her perfumes. Sara had been the one to inform which perfume it was and told Laszlo that she had mentioned about getting a box of her own, and he made sure to get the finest box with the two largest bottles so she wouldn’t have to.
The Isaacson Brothers had left with their guests and just before everyone was to go off on their own, Evelina made sure to have a few carols played and sung. John and Sara had quite nice voices which blended very well together, Cyrus deep and warm, and Joanna and Stevie wholeheartedly sang. Laszlo’s voice was not deep or powerful, but it was soft and comforting, and it sounded wonderful to hear him sing Silent Night in German, a request that Evelina had asked, and he did only for her. When he sang, all stopped and listened, and all Laszlo could see or know was Evelina, playing the piano, with a grace and power that reminded him of his youth. Instead of painful memories, it made him smile and happy.
Cyrus and his niece left to have dinner with their family, John to his grandmother’s, leaving Sara and Stevie to join Evelina and Laszlo to the opera for The Nutcracker. This had been Stevie’s first time to the opera and the wonder in his eyes was so enduring and how he watched as the story enfolded before his eyes. In the dark of the auditorium, Evelina had reached her hand over to Laszlo’s, and held it. He looked over at her and wordlessly, he thanked her for a wonderful Christmas.
The good cheer from Christmas continued to carry on for the next few days as New Year’s was approaching and for good reason. The New York government had made the decision to unite the five boroughs of the city to create what would be nicknamed “Greater New York” and it was a wonderful reason to celebrate.
It was a momentous occasion, one that Evelina wished to see and thanks to Laszlo’s influence, they managed to watch it all happen close by and safe away from the mad crowd and the pouring rain. As the New Year rang, everyone watched in wonder as fireworks blasted in the sky, cannons fired, steamboats blowing their horns and brass bands played their hearts out, for when the new year rang, the new flag had unfurled over city proclaiming it’s celebration, the birth of the City of New York.
“Oh, darling,” Evelina gasped, “Just think, we are lucky to have seen this happen. To see a city come together as one, it’s beautiful!”
Laszlo wrapped his arms around Evelina’s waist and placed his head in the crook of her neck as they watched the city celebrate outside, “1898 shall be a happy year. I am sure of it.” She turned her head and shared their third kiss but first kiss of their new year and turned back to watch the merriment.
It then struck him right then and there, something that he thought would never be possible, something he’d never have, and yet it was here in his arms, and he would not let it go so easily. Now, it was just the matter of asking the question.
Tagging: @monsieurbruhl​ @cazzyimagines​, @scuttle-buttle​, @violetmuses​ @flutterskies​ @sokoviandelights​ @rumblelibrary​ @fictionlandslanddreams​ @somethingthatsaysbubbles​ @alindeluce​  and @barnesxnobles
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horrorslashergirl · 3 years
Text
Slasher OC: Decebal Avram Chirilă
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Full Name: Decebal Avram Chirilă
Nickname(s): Dacia, Dece, The Impaler, Vladislav, Tiger, Lynx, Dracula, Casanova
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Nationality: Romanian
Place of Birth: Bucharest, Romania
Current Location: Travels from country to country
Occupation: Former Romanian Soldier; Now Hitman
Languages: Romanian, English, German, French, Italian, Hungarian, Russian, Turkish
Appearance:
Height: 6'8
Weight: 240lbs
Body Type: Middle Bulky and Atheltic
Skin Color: Warm Beige
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Hair Style: Short on the sides and longer on top, wavy
Eye Color: Pale Grey, almost white, giving the impression he is blind
Face Claim: Stephen James
Clothing: He opts for comfortable clothing mostly because of his job as a hitman and because he is always on the run. He mostly goes with black T-shirts or shirts, a khaki army coat with many pockets, along with camo army pants again with many pockets and black combat boots. He has a long black scarf with the colors of the Romanian flag trimmed along that belonged to his father.
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Other features: He has many scars on his broad back and down his arms; his back's scars are covered by tattoos of an eagle and a grim reaper with two swords in an X shape. His has full sleeve tattoos down his arms, picturing all kind of nature scenarios from his country, mountains and wild animals and AK-47's on each forearm. His neck, chest and legs are also covered by tattoos along with his hands. This guy is all inked up. He also has a silver earing on his right ear. He also wears an eyepatch that is covering his scarred eye that he got from a fight with his brother Alexander, the scar mimiking the ones Alexander has, coming from his eyebrow down his eye and over his cheek.
Weapons: Twin Swords, Twin Guns, and throwing knives.
Power/Skills:
Murderous expertise
Brute strength
Skilled usage of weaponry
Skill in hand-to-hand combat
Knifesmanship
Swordsmanship
Multilingual
Cunning Nature
Charisma
Driving expertise
Ruthlessness
Fearlessness
Manipulation
Marksmanship
Master tactician and strategist
Stealth mastery
Symbols: Here is the link to Decebal's symbols
History/Bio:
Decebal was named after a Romanian king by his parents, father Apostol Chirilă, and his mother, Maria Stratulat of Moldovic heritage. They were a poor family that lived in Bucharest during the communist times, a hard period for them. Decebal's father, Apostol was one of the rebels that were against this form of a system of social organization in which all property is owned by the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs.
Because of this Apostol and Maria, along with their three years old son, Decebal, were dragged into the communistic jails where they were tortured in all kinds of ways from whipping to starvation to being chained into coldness.
Decebal tried to protect his parents even though he was a small child and the army warden that took care of the horrific jails was surprised by the child's braveness and he took him away from his parents, not before forcing him to watch how his parents were killed brutally.
During the rest of his childhood and teenage years, Decebal spent most of his life in the dark underground jail, training with the soldiers, doing hard work. Despite that, the warden thought Decebal about all kinds of languages, cultures, and history. 
'Just because you're a stray dog that doesn't mean you cannot learn to bark and bite.'
In his late teenage years as he grew into an adult man, he got more to the light outside, following the warden wherever he went and did was his so-called 'father' figure did; smoke, drink and got laid with all the ladies.
The warden's words during a drunken late-night:
'You know boy, you will do something big, much bigger than you can imagine. I saw how all these sluts looked at you... You make them fall into your arms like they are desperate whores.'
'Use everything you got; charms, brains, muscles. In this world, there are the ones that walk every inch of the ground as they own it and the ones that follow, all chained. Tell me, boy... Which one you are?'
One of the greatest abilities that Decebal earned during years in the darkness was that he got so used to it that now as an adult, he sees perfectly into the darkness, just like cats do. 
Some people called Decebal 'Lynx'; the moniker originates from the fact that Lynx has exceptional night vision, remarkable hearing, and incredible instincts. The spiritual lesson Lynx carries to you is a reminder to partake of quiet observance, remembering there’s more to the world than what’s accessible through the physical eyes and ears alone.
After communism fell down in Romania, Decebal still maintained the attitude he grew up around; being sadistic, cold, and cruel. People weren't too fond of his attitude; his habits including fighting and torturing people that opposed him, getting laid with other men's wives, strolling down the streets like he owned everything.
He disappeared from Romania when there was a reward on his head to be finally executed. The Romanian army was hot on his trail, turning against him, but he simply vanished.
He strolls from country to country, not having a definitive home and working as a rogue hitman to earn money and to survive.
After a brutal fight between him and his twin little brother, Alexander; the two brothers which resulted in both of them almost dead, they get on an agreement of peace between them, with the help of their third part, their little sister Nadia.
Family: His little brother Alexander Chirilă and his little sister Nadia Nikolina Chirilă
His favorite killing style:
He prefers a kill that will put on a good show, he will shot his victims in both their knees, then he will dismember them with his sharp twin swords.
Personality:
Decebal has two paths of personality; the civilian one and the hitman one, that sometimes cross path depending on the situation at hand. In hi day to day life, he is a charming, handsome man, confident and sure of himself, but also having a modesty edge, just to draw people in closer, because he loves the attention, having a God-like complex.
Despite his childhood, he is a very educated man that speaks many languages, sometimes taking people by surprise, he can even put on fake accents. He also has vast knowledge about other countries history, mostly because that's what his 'father-figure' talked a lot about.
He is a flirt, he simply adores to make women swon by his charming looks and mysterious persona wherever he goes, people always wondering from where he comes. He knows how to sweet-talk people, being extremly manipulative. His looks; big and strong, in his eyes a flaming white glow.
You will rarely see Decebal without his charming smile or dark smirk that makes the ladies sigh and faint. He always puts on a winning attitude, knowing for creating many divorces along his travelings. 
Here goes his saying: 'If the female raised her tail, who I am to deny.'
He has a romantic side, after all he does speaks the romance languages, but it's highly influenced his his Casanova attitude.
He is blunt; this man will tell if you're damn gorgeous or if you're down-right ugly or stupid. He has no problem putting his opinions straight on the table.
His favorite drink: Țuică- is a traditional Romanian spirit that contains ~ 24–65% alcohol by volume (usually 40–55%), prepared only from plums.
His favorite food: Sarma is a dish of vine, cabbage, monk's rhubarb, kale or chard leaves rolled around a filling of grains, like bulgur or rice, minced meat, or both. It is found in the cuisines of the former Ottoman Empire from the Middle East to Southeastern Europe.
His scent: Decebal's scent could be described as a 'game of seduction' with an "exciting rush" of citrus and cool spice top notes. Pungent bergamot "bites" with freshness, revived by cardamom and lavender. Caviar gives a provocative and erotic touch “like a trickle of sweat on a man’s chiseled body.” Masculine and rough notes of tobacco and orris root facilitate the heat of the composition. He has that scent that could be described as smoky confidence irresistible to women.
Other Characteristics:
He is a very good dancer, especially traditional ones and he also knows singing. Attending important parties with his 'father-figure' he learned from the women how to dance and sing. The women basically made him such a charismatic man.
He is a heavy drinker and holds his alcohol like it's water; his moldovic genes showing off. 
He is more of a night person that a day one, mostly because of his very good nocturnal sight.
He is pretty much an Outlaw.
His accent sounds like italian, latin, but with a little bit of russian or another slavic accent. (That's how a Austrian woman described his accent one night)
He is a master at Poker. Another way he earns a lot of money is through poker and plus, he is a master cheater. FUN FACT HERE: He won a man's wife through poker for one night.
He is a sword swallower, bonus he has no gag reflex.
He also loves to smoke from his pipe.
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============================================
There lived a certain man in Romania long ago
He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow
Most people look at him with terror and with fear
But to Bucharest chicks he was such a lovely dear
He could preach the Bible like a preacher
Full of ecstasy and fire
But he also was the kind of teacher
Women would desire
DE DE DECEBAL
Lover of the ROMANIAN queen
There was a cat that really was gone
DE DE DECEBAL
Romania's greatest love machine
It was a shame how he carried on
He ruled the Romanian land and never mind the Tsar
But the kazachok he danced really wunderbar
In all affairs of state he was the man to please
But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze
For the queen he was no wheeler dealer
Though she'd heard the things he'd done
She believed he was a holy healer
Who would heal her son
DE DE DECEBAL
Lover of the Romanian queen
There was a cat that really was gone
DE DE DECEBAL
Romania's greatest love machine
It was a shame how he carried on
(This is an interpretation of the song ‘Rasputin’ by Boney M, mostly because the song inspired me into creating him)
For power became known to more and more people
The demands to do something about this outrageous
Man became louder and louder
"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies
But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"
No doubt this Decebal had lots of hidden charms
Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms
Then one night some men of higher standing
Set a trap, they're not to blame
"Come to visit us" they kept demanding
And he really came
DE DE DECEBAL
Lover of the Romanian queen
They put some poison into his țuică
DE DE DECEBAL
Romania's greatest love machine
He drank it all and said "I feel fine"
DE DE DECEBAL
Lover of the Romanian queen
They didn't quit, they wanted his head
DE DE DECEBAL
Romania's greatest love machine
[Spoken:] Oh, those Romanians...
=======================================================
But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger
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Text
RPTL-Court Date
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Summary: Danielle finally gets her day in court
Pairing: eventually Elliot x fem!OC
Word count: 1305
Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, PTSD
Danielle nervously ran her hands down her dress, smoothing out imagined wrinkles. Her palms were slightly sweaty, her chest ached from the repetitive hard thumping of her heart, and her stomach churned. She felt like she was going to vomit any moment. She was also having trouble getting her breathing under control. She was starting to hyperventilate. 
Elliot looked Danielle over as he stepped into the living room. He saw how tense her shoulders were, the way her nails were digging into her palms to keep them from shaking. Her ragged breaths could be heard from his spot at the entrance to the hallway. With a few long strides he was next to her. Gently he led her to the couch and sat her down. "Dani, I need you to open your eyes and look at me."
She whimpered, but did as he asked her to. She looked into his eyes, tears pooling into the corners of her own. 
He held her hands. "Good. Now tell me five things that you can see."
She looked around the room and back to him. "You, the...the TV, the coffee table...the couch, the picture….on the wall," she said softly, a slight quiver to her voice. 
He nodded. "Good. Four things you can touch." He rubbed her knuckles.
"My...my dress," she mumbled, clear disdain shown by her tone. "The couch, you, and the table." Her breathing was starting to slow down and regulate. 
"Three things you can hear." He kept his eyes locked with hers, their blue depths showing kindness and understanding.
"Traffic, the fan, your voice." The more she spoke the calmer she was feeling. Her heart no longer felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. 
He smiled a little. "Two things you can smell." As she relaxed it made it easier for him to relax. Not that he would fully until this whole thing was over and her attackers in jail.
She gazed at him. "Your cologne." Which smells really good, she thought. "My perfume."
"Alright and one thing you can taste."
"The peppermint chewing gum I was hoping would calm my stomach." She could breathe, talk, and her heartbeat was back to normal, but she was still shaky and nauseous. The last two always lasted for a while after an anxiety attack. 
He gently squeezed her hand. "I get it. You have every right to be anxious. To be on edge. Anyone in your position would be. But I promise everything is going to work out and they will get what they deserve." He smiled a bit. "Also I know you don't feel comfortable in what you're wearing. We have fifteen minutes before we have to go. Go change into dress slacks and a blouse. I know you'll feel better."
"Yeah you're right." She stood and went to move down the hall, but stopped. She hesitantly leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered before heading to her room. 
Elliot watched her go, a wide smile gracing his lips. 
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Danielle sat at the table in front of the pews she knew were filled with people. Elliot was right behind her and holding her hand. She allowed him to ground her as she ignored the comments being whispered by her former platoon. It seemed most of her Army buddies decided to desert her for going forward with her case. 
She knew there was a good chance they wouldn't back her, but the comments they spewed wasn't at all what she had been expecting. She sighed softly and looked forward. It was easier to focus on Casey Novak cross examining Garret and the feel of Elliot's hand in hers than it was to hear people she once knew on a very deep level call her all sorts of things. 
She took a breath and with how close Elliot was she could smell his cologne. The rugged musky scent washed over her, calming her nerves and making a slight warmth blossom in her belly. She squeezed his hand and smiled a little. 
Casey gazed at Garret with cold eyes. "You claim she came onto you and asked you boys to take her like she did?"
Garret nodded. "That's right. She wanted us. All this is, is a big case of morning after regrets. Doesn't want her uncle to know what a whore she is.'
Casey looked toward Danielle then back at Garret. She had questioned Malcom already and planned to question the other two next unless the defense called Danielle first. However if she got Garret to slip up she had a play up her sleeve. "Now why would a girl who just got back stateside want to be with multiple men before she's had a chance to shower and even find a place to stay?"
"Cause she's a slut." He shrugged. "I mean it would have went further, but well things happened. Bet she was disappointed."
Casey grinned. "And what things happened?" She knew she had him right where she wanted him. That was the one thing she needed him to say. 
"Dante got a text. His old lady wanted him to grab something on the way home from the base." 
She nodded. "Prosecution would like to call Jordan Hicks to the stand."
The defense attorney frowned. "Who is this person?" He crossed his arms.
"He's on the list. If you failed to look it over, that's on you." She smirked. 
Jordan was a slightly older black man. His beard was salt and pepper, but he stood tall and proud. He didn't bother looking at the defense table as he went to the stand. He put his hand to the Bible and gave his oath to be truthful. 
Casey smiled at him. "Jordan, what can you tell me about the night in question?"
Jordan glanced at Danielle, offering a kind smile. "I was heading home after a long shift at the butchery. It was the job I took once I retired from the Army. Couldn't stay home and do nothing." He sighed. "I heard what sounded like crying and a scuffle. I went to check it out. I came upon three men attacking a young woman. She was pleading with them to stop. When I called out as I was still too far to do anything physically they took off. I guess they thought I didn't see anything as they never bothered coming for me. I found Danielle on the ground. Helped her home."
"Did she say anything to you as you helped her?"
He nodded. "She did." He frowned. "She said they forced her. She thanked me for saving her. I suppose she felt they were going to kill her cause I didn't save her from what they were doing. I helped her inside, got her some water. She eventually changed, but I could tell she hadn't showered. She said she was going to the station the next morning. I gave her my name and number before leaving."
Casey nodded. "Thank you. That's all."
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Danielle sat in the hallway as the jury deliberated on her case. Her leg bounced and she chewed her lip. 
Elliot pulled her into his arms and kissed the crown of her head. "It will be okay," he whispered. 
A few minutes later Casey came to get them. The jury had reached a verdict. 
She went inside and sat down.
"How does the jury find on the charge of attempted rape in the second degree?" The judge asked. 
"We find the defendants guilty."
"How do you find on the charge of aggravated sexual assault?"
"We find the defendants guilty."
The judge tapped her hammer and nodded. "This case is adjourned. Sentencing will be in two weeks."
Danille teared up in relief and turned. She hugged Elliot. The first one she had ever initiated.
****
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azdoine · 2 years
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😐👀🖊
😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?
haha, just nuke me right out of the gate, huh?
the executive function/commitment problems are real, but those are a little more wide-reaching than just putting words on a page. something which embarrasses me about my writing in itself is probably... my dialogue?
I’m not bad at tracking characterization and personalities in my head, but distinct speaking styles are harder, and I have a habit of using my characters as exposition mouthpieces or pushing them into unreasonably bespoke debates.
👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?
ah... well, um, I won’t say I’ll never let it see the light of day, but I’ve definitely got something I wouldn’t otherwise promote or publish on my main accounts.
it’s a PMMM SI/OC romance - less as something I’m unironically interested in now, and more as a love letter to a time and place in my life when I sort of was. if nothing else, I also want to explore some of the writing conceits (and blatant copes) I’ve seen from other SI romance authors in recent years.
🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.
What is a woman meant to think, when the Devil steps out of the pages of a bible she doesn’t even believe in and tells her he has a job for her? When he tells her that she can have everything she’s ever wanted and everyone she’s ever loved, if only she tithes all other things in creation to him?
The foolish woman takes his words at face value, and allows herself to be seduced into darkness. The wise woman remembers that he is a conniver and a father to lies, and turns her back upon all his works.
The worldly woman understands that her tempter is bound to reason, as all things are, and cannot escape the implications of his own existence. Their arrangement is no more an epic for Johann Faust than for Simon Flagg. It exists not because it is being written as a story - though it may be written, all else being equal - but because someone found it necessary to see to fruition in their own reality.
Perhaps my dubious benefactor in ‘the Company’ was the Devil, and perhaps he wasn’t. I couldn’t say either way, and neither alternative really changed anything. The questions that mattered were more and less fundamental.
All the tithes I could offer my benefactor were less than ash to such a being as he claimed to be. What use was kidnapping, to a master of demons who could raise men and women out of the void like wheat from the earth? To a master of oracles who could pluck all true names out of nothingness, and of sculptors who could fulfill those images to the last? What use was shareholder value, to men who could rule forever as private kings in heavens of their own making?
And all of these questions I could have asked of him, but I hadn’t - not just because there was no reason to give him any ideas, but because it was pointless. The second purpose of a system is what it’s meant to be, and the third purpose is what it claims to be, but the first purpose of a system is what it does, and all the writ in the world had only confirmed that what his system did was give people an excuse to be evil.
It wasn’t slaves he wanted, for himself or for anyone else; it was me he wanted, and he wanted me to enslave. This was what he cared about, and I would not do him the disservice of pretending he was such an exquisite fool as to lead himself as far and deep into ineptitude as he hoped to lead me into temptation.
So why, then, had I been left a way out at the last? Walled in by one page of corporate soundbytes after another until there was nothing left for me but to rape and pillage, and then permitted an escape in a handful of paragraphs that were obviously all but written on a napkin by someone else’s hand?
I wasn’t smart for having outwitted him; I was lucky at best, having been given the chance to defy him, or misled entirely at worst, having been deluded into optimism.
But if my enemy wanted only to lead good men into iniquity, then he would simply raise true heroes up into omnipotence and curse them by the same measure to always be left an Omelas, and in so doing create Gods to cast scapegoats into Hell, and in so doing solve the problem of evil by being greater than God altogether.
That my enemy wanted something as eccentric as this proved it couldn’t be so simple. That something as eccentric as this could come to pass, could be the purpose of anyone’s system, proved my enemy was nothing so majestically vast.
It meant he was human, or bound by something like humanity; it meant he was imperfect, or bound by something like imperfection. If not in what he was capable of, then certainly in what he desired above all else.
That was the way he was going to die.
And if I was a fool to believe that I wasn’t at the end of my rope and strung up on my adversary’s strings, then that was a burden I would have to bear, because that was just the human delusion called “faith”.
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