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rudie-wr1tes · 1 month

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Endless Passion- A Sandman Fan Fiction

IX. Berceuse

Synopsis: Lord Morpheus gifts Sabine everything she has ever dreamt of without asking for a thing in return. Sabine cannot fathom how much the Lord of Dreams and Nightmares seems to care for her, but similar sentiments become more common with other Dreaming residents. Sabine, in her solitude, wonders what else he knows...

There was a time in Sabine’s life where she had everything a girl could dream for. She was a spoiled child, and her upbringing was spent wanting for nothing. Two homes- one in California, the other in Lahaina, her great grandmother’s property. A prestigious school, music lessons, American Girl Dolls, her own horse and stable on her family property. She remembered traveling across oceans to resorts for the summer, Disney World in the winter. But in the unfortunate turns of her adolescence, she began to accept nice things came with a cost- to herself, to the ones she loved. Income became less expendable when her parents passed, and only so much with other family members. As Lahina burned, the fire’s stretched hand took everything she ever remembered- including her precious Casper, a white horse she loved dearly. She accepted that a life spent as a sleep psychologist would eventually sustain her. The Dremastone copy, however, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. A majority of her heirlooms were pawned to pay the crooked con who withheld the stone. All this, she accepted, she did not deserve, nor would ever come close to accumulating for herself in life.

At least, within her life in the Waking World.

What she found here was more than she could have ever hoped.

In the center of the room, backed against the wall of where she slept prior was that exact bed she described in the foyer- with long, sweeping, sky blue curtains that billowed in an invisible breeze, held up by silver columns. Silken sheets and a quilted comforter with the appearance of clouds spread across it.

She trembled, reaching forward to see the quilt patterns resembling breadfruit and passion flower stitching, just as her mother’s quilt did back in her apartment. Above her were vaulted ceilings, and a night sky welcomed her with shooting stars and dimming lights. She had every piece of furniture from her lost heirloom collection, delicately painted with silver and icicle blue etchings- a vanity, the chaise lounge with a surface that shimmered with diamonds, and her grandfather’s wardrobe standing guard, towering over her. Her favorite Monet print- Dancers in Blue, hung delicately on one wall, with arched windows and a terrace overlooking the Dreaming to her right. Fresh cut plumerias danced across the surface of water in floating glass viles alongside tea light candles, welcoming her with their delicate scent. It was equally elegant and comfortable. Every corner was a perfect balance of home and her desires for pretty things- a handful, she recognized from her apartment, one being the bookshelf of journals, with another leaflet open and empty. Beside it, a writing desk for more journaling and writing whatever she pleased. She had time now for all of it. Her eyes caught a leather-bound makeup kit with multiple tears, with silver-handled brushes itching to be used. Fragrance oils and colognes glimmered in the light coming in from the windows. All the pretty things she had ever saved in unemptied online shopping carts back home. Sabine wiped the corner of her eyes to conceal the tear that shed. She was rendered speechless, turning back to the giving Endless, whose smile grew, slowly.

“I don’t know what to say.” Sabine uttered in a near whisper.

“You neednt say a word.” Dream affirmed, matching her tone, “Upon visiting your sister, I came to learn of your beautiful world, both dreaming and awake. And I decided to bring home to you.”

Sabine’s feet shifted. She did not know whether to run away from him or to embrace him. Or to yell, or to weep, or to do all those things at once.

“How did you know?” She asked, “And… Why?”

“The brevity of your promise to protect Kalea has touched something within me.” Lord Morpheus approached the floating vases of water and made an adjustment, his fingertip sounding a loud ping into the room, “Your selflessness will not be forgotten.”

Sabine slowly sank to the edge of her bed, resting a hand on her healing injury, too stunned to speak. Her hand ran over the quilt. Yes- it was HER bed. Everything belong to her. Lord Morpheus took this as his cue to give her space.

“I shall leave you to rest for the evening.” Lord Morpheus said, “So you can become accustomed to your living space. There is an attached bathroom as well, in the next door over.”

She was terrified to even look in the bathroom, but that would mean a test against the figure himself over one specific item within. A majority of these things she had written in journals- that he either knew because she was a dreamer, or he had read it.

“The interior of the wardrobe, however, may take some time to populate,” Lord Morpheus added, “You will find some clothes there for now, but that may change soon.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled then.” She said, “And the bookshelf… that’s for Lucienne’s delivery, right?”

He nodded.

“There will be times I will be out to aid dreamers in my realm, or collaborate in other realms beyond this one.” Morpheus said, “You are free to roam the grounds of this palace, and Fiddler’s Green is always open to you. However, the rest of the Dreaming is vast and plenty- I only ask you wait for me, should you choose to explore another day.”

“So I can wander a little?” She asked, “Well. I figured in situations like this there was something forbidden. No limits, anything to steer clear of?”

“That is inevitable.” Lord Morpheus’s tone grew a little more serious, “There are two locations that I ask you to avoid- the House of Mysteries and the House of Secrets, and the easternmost edge, where the night sky touches a mirrored surface of murky waters. You shall not enter there.”

“I understand.” Sabine said, “.... I’m curious. But I understand. With names like that, I’d be hesitant to enter anyways. And technically, wouldn’t that be three places?”

“You are weary.” Morpheus quipped, “We shall speak of this more another day.”

“Wait, when can I see you again?” Sabine stood, her arm wrapping around the bedpost, “I mean… I know you’re busy. I’ll always find ways to occupy myself but…”

She pulled back in shame at her own desperation to be close to him again, “So we can make time for those answers….”

“Tomorrow afternoon, when the sun is at its highest.” He answered, “I will see you then. And I will show you what I mean.”

“Okay…” Sabine concealed her smile, “Thank you, Lord Morpheus.”

He looked back at her in the doorway, “For what?”

“For being so kind to me.” Sabine replied, “For giving me such beautiful things even when… When I nearly ruined everything.”

The Lord’s ocean eyes glimmered on the surface.

“Sabine.” Her name on his lips sounded like poetry, “As you remain here in the Dreaming, there is no necessity for formally addressing me. I have gone by many names before. You may call me by my name beyond a title. My other creations address me as Dream. You are more than welcome to call me as either, Morpheus, or as Dream the Endless. Whichever you decide, will not offend me.”

His words seemed to unfurrow the stitch in her neck and shoulders, relaxing them. A soft sigh of relief left her lips. She smiled, looking down at the ground a moment before returning to look up at him again.

“Good evening, Morpheus.” Sabine said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was pleased seeing her at ease, “Good evening to you, Sabine.”

As he shut the door behind him, a hand fell over her mouth to shut out the muffled scream that clattered beneath.

“Sweet dreams!” She stupidly uttered, soon covering her mouth as the door shut, “Sweet dreams my ass! Stand up!!!! Stand! Up!”

Sabine couldn’t decide if she was talking to herself or just processing the gift she had been given.

“I’m beating his ass into next week.” Sabine stammered, “He better not spoil me. I’m insufferable enough.”

She shook it off, checking her new room one more time. Her head was spinning as if she had something to drink.

“This is all mine.” She whispered, “All of it. Oh my god, Kalea. Kalea is… No. I can’t.” She shook her head, “But…The bathroom was fine before. He couldn’t have… I swear to-”

She ran across the carpeted flooring to reach the doorhandle. The door opened into a large turkish bath, with circular ceilings light by golden fire. At the center, a pearl hued chamber filled with lily pads and simmering crystal waters. Above her, in marble ceiling frescos of a sunset sky were stained glass windows of sirens at play, that seemed to shimmer with movement. She let out a small cry of joy, stomping her feet.

“I’m going to kill him!” She exclaimed, “He didn’t- and the sinks!” She cried, admiring the polished amenities before circular mirrors. But one thing in particular was what she was desperate to look for- and there, in its own protected corner surrounded by curtains was what she was looking for.

Meanwhile, Dream was waiting patiently within earshot of Sabine’s chambers. He leaned against the palace wall, listening intently. He was grinning like a fool already at her ranting and raging.

Soon, he delighted at the sound of Sabine’s squealing laughter from within her room, leaning against the wall outside. The joyous, bubbling, infectious sound brought a smile to his face.

“Shut UP!” her voice buzzed from inside the walls, “He fucking didn’t! He got me a golden fucking toilet!”

Her hands clapped aloud, as the thud of her jumping footsteps shook the wall. Her voice broke into brusts of wheezing and silence, as she hollered with glee at such a cheeky gift.

“I’ll feel guilty later.” Sabine exclaimed, “Shiiiiyet, I’m taking a bath in this now. And is there- If there’s champagne and strawberries I might actually-”

“Look on the counter again, Sabine.” Dream murmured, pointing his finger upwards. On cue, another shrill giggle of glee rattled the wall, followed by a champagne cork popping.

“Call me materialistic, But this is mine now!” She wondered aloud.

He walked away quickly, on fast feet, trying to conceal his laughter. Lucienne approached him coming from the opposite direction with the cart of her book haul. Her brow arched high, she exchanged a knowing glance with her creator as he passed. Here was an immortal figure acting like a youth in love for the first time, pretending to be shocked he was caught with a spring in his step.

“Not a word.” Morpheus chided.

Lucienne put her hands up while guiding the cart, “I had no means to say anything aloud, sire.”

He kept walking, forcing himself not to look back. Matthew was right about one thing.

He was most certainly in for it now.

And so was Sabine, that night after an everything bath, an entire bottle of champagne, and more sensible pajamas, curling within the quilt he so kindly provided her. It did not smell like her childhood home, but that was okay. Gardenia and night jasmine bloomed, their soft perfume coming from the mini moon garden on her balcony. Her wet hair formed into soft curls with more volume than she could ever try at home, but a chill had settled. The guilt washed over her in silent tears to sleep again, as her back faced moonlight pouring through from the windows he carefully made. There was no shortage of tenderness in every inch of the place, not even in the photo Dream left on her bedside table of her and Kalea only four years prior. Her thumb brushed over her sister’s photo, as she curled deeper within herself.

As Sabine dragged herself to bed, finally, in the inky hour of Dream’s skies, she couldn’t help but to ponder- if Kalea was finally freed from night terrors- would it ve possible to find her too, in the Dreaming? Would she know where to find her? And if so… Would Kalea forgive her?

Her bereavement was interrupted, if for a moment, by the comforting bed that was made for her. She ran her hand across the satin sheets, in awe of them not making her slide off. A shadow loomed over her- a partial curtain moving on its own to block her eyes from the blinding moonlight. She rolled on her side, burrowing herself deeper into the covers. Tomorrow she would try to find more answers about Morpheus. But for now, she forced herself to sleep- her mind not wandering far from the way his silhouette towered over her. The sound of his gentle voice swarmed her thoughts enough already. And how she, deep down, craved the comfort of his protective arms when she ached, wondering what the velvet inside his coat felt like if she had rested against it for a moment. And she should’ve been angry to think such things. It was selfish. And maybe she had a right to be a little selfish after spending years pretending not to be.

After all…. If he could make dreams possible, what else did he know about her deepest fantasies?

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Author's note- True story, having a golden toilet is an extremely unserious dream I've always wanted for years. And I do not know why. When I was a kid, I genuinely thought that was a flex. Is it still? Yes. Is it impractical? Who the hell cares?!

Anyways... Tune in next week. I'm not sure if I'll post on Easter, It might be moved to the Friday before. You'll see!

#dream of the endless #fan fiction #writeblr #my fanfiction #the sandman netflix #the sandman #fic writing #lord morpheus #death the endless #living vicariously

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weministertomonsters · 2 years

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Witch (Ezekiel) x human female reader

* * *

In this story witches can be any gender.

Enjoy reading!

* * *

"A looker, isn't she?" Someone says.

Voices and so much noise. As your eyes flutter open, the noise dies down until the only thing you hear is the popping of wood in a fireplace. Despite your lethargy you quickly take stock of yourself and your surroundings. You're tied to a chair with your arms fastened around the back of the chair.

You're seated in a room with stone walls and cluttered shelves with a ceiling so high that it is cloaked in shadows. An elegant archway leads to a long hall with painting of saints, candles flickering under each one. You've never been in this room but you're sure you know where you are.

"You're awake," a sinfully husky voice purrs. "I was afraid I hit you so hard you'd never wake up."

"You live in a cathedral? Ironic," you reply. "Untie me."

An incredulous laugh comes from somewhere behind you. "Untie you? What, so you can stab me with that stake of yours?"

Your eyes skim the room until you find your weapon lying in the corner with the rest of the contents of your bag which has been upturned and most likely searched. Not like there is much to find.

"I'm not a vampire, surely you know that," the voice says.

"You think I haven't realized? Otherwise, you can't be within a foot of this building, much less in it," you snap. "I know just what you are, Ezekiel Winterfrost."

"Oh, the hunter even knows my name!" He cackles.

His boots clink slightly with whatever metal charms he's fixed to them as he stalks over to you. His body is lithe and though he doesn't have much muscle, you have no doubt that he's as fast as an arrow and just as deadly. He bends at the waist until his eyes are level with yours.

"You came to Juniper Hill to kill me but at least you were polite enough to learn my name first. Gee, I should thank you, should I not?"

It's difficult to look away from his enchanting purple eyes. No matter how many witches you kill, seeing their eyes never get old. Even in your dreams, you see that shimmering shade of purple. It's always harder when they are beautiful.

Somehow, it adds another layer to that unearthly charm and it has caused you to hesitate enough to almost get you killed on several occasions. It took time to master it, to ignore the glamour, to think and not look.

His skin is a luxurious shade of brown and he's perfectly symmetrical in every way. His curly black hair is pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and both ears are pierced with small gold hoops. He has a golden gem in the side of his nose as well. It's clear he's not from around here.

You force yourself to dismiss him, looking down.

"Don't take it personal," you say calmly. "I'm only doing my job."

"By killing innocent people?" He scoffs and the sugary scent of magic washes over you.

People who use magic often enough become something more than human. Magic does strange things to people, turning some into rambling lunatics and giving others the power to hold the attention of masses. It also drives some to crave even more than they have already attained, to shed blood for the sole purpose of becoming even more powerful.

All witches have purple eyes and almost all of them come to smell of something. Some of them smell horrible, like dead things and mud. Some smell like dusty books and candle wax. Sometimes they smell of promises, like a kiss on a summer night or a bed shared by lovers.

A rare few smell sweet, like a fragrant cup of coffee or freshly baked all-spice cookies. And he smells like something sweet that you can sink your teeth into.

Wouldn't you like a taste?

"Stop reading my thoughts," you glare. "That party trick bores me."

"People like you are so easy to figure out," he says, pulling away. "Why do you kill? Because a big bad wolf made you, do it?"

"I've seen the havoc even a single witch can wreak. I know how evil and twisted witches become. The less there are of your kind, the better." You lift your chin, daring him to retort.

"Who hurt you?"

The question is so out of the blue that it takes you a long moment to respond. You're more startled at the accuracy of the question than the question itself.

Are you that easy to read?

"It is none of your business," you snap.

"You shouldn't let yourself be so easily manipulated. Yes, perhaps a witch did something terrible to you. But normal people can be just as bad. Normal people are often worse. Does killing make you feel like a better person?"

"I don't get to choose what I do with my life," you wince as your arms begin to ache even more fiercely. "Besides, my opinion on witches still stands. The kingdom is better off without your kind running rampant."

"You're so naive."

Unexpectedly, he raises a hand and cups your cheek. "It always hurts me to see this.

To see what kind of person I was once upon a time."

"D-Don't touch me," you narrow your eyes. "I'll rip your fingers off one by one for that."

"Well then, I have bad news for you. You might want to think twice about ripping anything off. You'll need my help soon enough," he says.

"You're not going to convince me you're that one innocent witch who never hurt a human and so should be spared because of it. You cannot promise that you will never bend someone to your will-"

"Ha!" He exclaims. "Then you don't see the truth of the matter. What if I told you that the reason the Blood Council is killing witches is not to free the land of witchcraft but rather take the power of magic for themselves?"

"Bullshit," you hiss.

Ezekiel gazes at you for an instant and then crosses his arms. "Let me make an offer. If I let you go, promise to never bother me again. You will leave me unharmed and in return I will not turn you into a toadsie.

"Toadsie?" You frown.

"My little brother used to call them that," Ezekiel replies, a smile flitting across his face before his expression clouds. "Anyway, what say you?"

"Go to hell," you growl, wiggling in the seat.

Your bonds are secure, you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Ezekiel steps forward and casually slips his hand into the collar of your shirt. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you feel the tips of his fingers brush over the tops of your breasts.

"Get your filthy hands out of my-" Your words die away as he holds up your necklace.

"What's this?" He asks with a smirk. "One would think it's just a normal piece of jewelry but it isn't, is it?"

"It's an Oath Chain, not that it matters to you," you grit your teeth.

"Your little slave-chain. So, you aren't doing this out of free will after all."

"What?" You squint up at him. "What do you mean by "slave-chain"?"

"You were warned to never leave a witch alive, correct? Well, this thing makes sure you don't. You have no reason to leave your enemy alive. The moment you do, the pendant will release a poison into your heart, slowly killing you. The Blood Council doesn't take chances. They'd rather kill an agent than give them up."

"How do you know this?" You demand.

Ezekiel's coffee-colored lips turn up into a mocking smile. "I wasn't born yesterday, Agent Freda."

He knows my name. He knows my fucking name!

"Who gave you my name?" You narrow your eyes.

His smile widens. "Freda, not every agent of the Blood Council is fond of sucking on their tits and obeying them word for word. So, what is it going to be? Kill me and bury the truth or keep me alive and learn what is really going on in the shadows? I'll let you make your own decision.

He waves a hand and the ropes digging into your skin loosen and drop to the floor. Then he takes a few steps back and waits, hands tucked behind his back.

You rub the sore spots on your arm and glance to where your belongings are lying on the floor. If you're fast enough, you might be able to beat him to them. Outside, thunder rumbles in the sky and a light drizzle starts to come down. You know the rain is ice cold. You'd hate to travel in that

The scent of Ezekiel's magic wafts over to you and you spin around, ready to defend yourself from whatever nefarious spell he's preparing to cast on you. But his back is turned and he's standing at a stove, mixing a bubbling pot of stew. It smells delicious. He doesn't budge or turn.

Is that because of overconfidence or blind trust in you?

You don't know. You glance at your bag once more. Your stomach is grumbling now and you know you don't have any more food. You hadn't been given enough money to cover the whole trip and you've had to choose between eating and a place to sleep far too many times.

"You're welcome to eat and sleep here," Ezekiel cuts into your thoughts.

The fight slides out of you and you're suddenly aware of how hungry and drained you are.

"Fine," you say stiffly. "I'll stay and listen to what you have to say. "Make sure I won't regret it."

"Good, because if you'd walked out that door and left me alive, your necklace would've started to poison you."

You roll your eyes. "Don't be mistaken. If I had chosen walked out that door, you would have been dead."

#witch #monster x reader #exophilia #terato #monster

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libidomechanica · 7 months

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“Its blood and tuneless chords do from fiction wheneer he”

A Soyl ungrateful every crime. Acknowledge aught except thou have heard from thee; and as her bodice green hill in an echo in another line: so long and fiddle. Afternoon and descend, no True Successions were design’d. Shall call

me ungentle, unfair, I long’d so heartily the rivulet at her into an elegant extract much less fancies be. Which of the Danger, never anchors; it’s no sooner presume? Seen beautiful, the sweet golden close by

thousand fresh Forces in, and in the balmy time, which in the Moon, the spot, where blowes both with the lamplight, undespoken light almost addressing what? Who in his Distance from that can everywhere. Th’ inhabitants of

necessary to the heart-inflaming brand, whilst many nymphs, but to keep thy credit as a monk may do the sun: where the five, six, and afterward beat back without much better for this.-Wealth, by my Paternal name.—Nay, their virtue advance;

but on the same route, and turn the spot they never be? Or, had thought till now unshaken like a sweet unrest, still afford; resolved to tie her up for praise; now pray shut up their Passion could novels, after Day, Design, nor am

I Mary Magdalane, was shaped like a Lyon, Slumbring in sense flows in which some a little like a weeping by starts, and simple Rustic to a Cunning Power unpleas’d with smiles that a faux pas in this is different seizure—as

with curses struck within his Book; but, if a mightier arm could we know that was in his careless nerves and heir—and one enormous shout of wedlock and kick your fixed subject: a brave to burn and blood of the Cavalier, ’ just as all

the altar whence they Prove: for this Achithphel Unites the Malecontentedly, without Title while sore than a stanch one; but now should he gain, his figure fit to what this cap and sculk’d behind their fruit and the just sit on the silent

sea, and birds twitter, thicker than shedding seas of gore. Th’ Egyptian stones of the cold, their talk with greenish matter than shedding seaward on the parapet, rampart, and, from the silver shows that roll in yonder bay? Beauties

I said, he never broke promis’d land survays. Than true, you Draw; and Self-defence, so form’d his pipe quite enough to fly from, as from faults, and even at the law. Pardon a’ our single head was spared me: yet I name, thou shalt taste the rising

under your breathed upon a fray, and shadow where you great and white, and fresh Glories, whether a sky’s or Eden’s bowers were apart; yet, day by day, I bade it keep the wheels. With new meanings—through there’s no describe. ’Ve walked

too alien to know it: when the pearl-gray lightest splinters, among mankind, to feverish pulse each in our youth, as an attendant lord, one whole ranks: however she might make haste! Whose far-fet helps be such, who though not prodigal

of Ease? Combing the scenes—though long, to Persuade, that sings no Titles and briers, because I feel it Mayakovsky got down that is it? Friends and to your plate; time for one kneaded of Evil—Well, could marry, if I can no more difficulties,

which made Solomon a zany. It is what the hollow women could sleeps so peace and having there was more of honest fame, than Ajax or Achilles, and quaint, stopp’d as is the Root he grew more silent, sullen, were heard the thornless

good broadsword he weapons: match’d our Elders to praise the morning; but the King to Build and set my true each sence holds a part potential: i’ve seen or ponder what each upon its back afraid I’d slip through thunder, and ways? Its blood

and tuneless chords do from fiction whene’er he can make, what Prudent men and a term is shown through and heaven and arrow-straight, thought of dread them leave the pity oft will shoe my bonny ship, and shun the serpent’s head, smoking tobacco

on a little dross, and out, as thy present case: up Johnson came, with some summer-night, condemned, not by our feeling t is true he shrank not from Oblivion, the swell of twelve sweet express, still Dear to teach though Ireland’s present

to hear your doubt if men seek her notion, and the air sick, and in extremes between; your magic lanterns, or aught of early risers after Sorrow. I turned me this; say the lake doth changed my life a person without a friend of Gold!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #109 texts #ballad

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roegadynroost · 8 months

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FFXIVwrite 2023 - 03 Familiarity

The muggy climes of summer were finally giving way to cooler autumn air, but has always Gridania stayed green and verdant despite the shifting seasons. This early in the morning, before the sun peeked over the great boughs of the Shroud, the chill was enough to make anyone want to retreat back inside and return to the warmth of their waiting beds.

Alas, All Saints' Wake was less than half a moon away and it would be a busy time for the botanists' guild, thus it was that instead of doing her usual tasks for the day Crystal Ash was finishing up a bit of meditation early this morning. She was dressed in a ratty old dalmatica and a pair of her most worn tights, layered so that she would be warm enough to deal with the morning, but in nothing so cumbersome that she could not shed it when the sun rose into the sky.

Stillglade Fane was only a short walk from the Greatloam Growery, and with a warm smile on her face, she made her way to answer the call for help with the harvest. Crystal was far from the only early riser, there were already half a dozen others doing their best to make quick work of the waiting plants. Gourds of all color and shape, including her favorites, pumpkins. Currants, acorns and all manner of delicious treats waiting to be picked.

Fufucha, the guild master was one of the early risers, already in the field doling out instructions and helping to pick the product. Crystal got out her heavy gathering gloves and waited her turn for the Lalafellin woman's attention.

"G'morning Ma'am! I'm hear to help! What did you want me on?" Crystal interjected when she saw her chance.

Fufucha's wide pretty eyes looked up from the squash she was examining, a bright smile finding her lips as she recognized the rabbit-earred girl. "Oh Crystal! I'm so glad you're here." Fufucha exclaimed, stepping past the plot to greet her. "I know you're busy with your other guilds so I'm happy you could still spare us some time."

"Of course, I wouldn't miss autumn harvest for anything." Crystal nodded, returning the smile before adding. "And I won't lie, I was hoping to get first pick of the pumpkins, there is one I have been eyeing every time I come with the fertilizer."

Fufucha chuckled, but left it at that before assigning Crystal her area, unsurprisingly the pumpkins.

Crystal loved getting to harvest the gourds, she loved their different hues, she loved the delicate curl of their vines and she above all else loved their flavour. She could spend the whole day tending them, and she did so very often. It was past noon before she realized the time, and only then did she notice because Fufucha scolded her for not stopping for lunch like everyone else.

By now a dozen more had joined in and the harvesting was in full swing. Crystal stretched and shed her gloves. She tucked them in at her waist where she had tied her top by its sleeves, her eyes slowly scanning the field as she made her way back up to the hovel. There were all sorts helping today, Elezen, Lalafell, Hyur, Miqo'te, even a couple other Roegadyn to her surprise. She was all the more astonished when coming down the way from the hut she spied a pair of rabbits ears in the crowd atop the head of a young man.

Crystal blinked, her footfalls stopping altogether. She was not in the slightest worried about how it would look as she was all but ogling this stranger. She simply could not believe her eyes. At a quick glance he might have been mistaken for a Miqo'te if not for the lack of a tail, but when one really took the time to take in his visage there was no mistaking the tall elegant ears spouting from his crown.

The man himself was much shorter than Crystal, by a head or so from what she could tell from her spot. His pale skin was kissed by Nophica, freckles dotting the bridge of his nose. His hair covered one eye, and she could not see the color of it. The other eye was a brilliant amber, and his hair itself was a vibrant auburn, nearly the same familiar color that she saw whenever she looked into a mirror.

Crystal would have kept gawking if not for the strangers eyes meeting her own and snapping her from her stupor. She quickly closed her mouth. Had she had it open? She must have looked incredibly strange there, and surely he would say something about her curious staring. She readied herself but the awkward confrontation.

"Oh hey, you're here for the harvest too?" His chipper and familiar tone was so unexpected that Crystal almost looked around to see if he was talking to someone else, but as he came closer staring up into her bewildered face she knew he addressing her.

"Ah, yes. Yes I am." Crystal replied, brows nit in confusion as she wracked her brain to figure out if she'd spoken with him before. She had not. There was no way that she would have met him and not remembered. If the look on her face bothered him, he didn't show it. His handsome face was bright and excited, the suns rays causing him to shimmer in the days light. He looked so genuinely excited to see her she couldn't help but keep up the facade of familiarity. "Are you enjoying harvest?"

He quickly nodded, a small hum in confirmation his reply before he spoke. "Yes, I am. Though it's much harder work than I expect. It's great to have so many in the guild around at the same time. I'm learning a lot in a short amount of time."

Crystal couldn't help but smile and nod back. She wanted badly to know more about this stranger and was about to form a reply when a shout from behind her interrupted and she looked over to the source.

"Honeyrust I could use your help over here!" It was Sandre, struggling to get a particularly large gourd into a wagon.

"I'm coming boss!" Honeyrust shouted back in alarm, moving forward to close the distance before stopping to give Crystal his attention once more. "Sorry, I gotta get back to work! We'll catch up later yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. Talk to you later Honeyrust." Crystal smiled down gently, the test of his name on her tongue came out in a very amused tone, as if she knew a secret he did not. If he noticed it he did not speak on it, he was already on the move again.

"See you later Thyn'a!" He called over his shoulder, jogging away to where he was called.

Authors note: I wasn't going to do the extra credit days, but seeing as the 24 hour deadline is not in effect yet and I had a spark, I figured I should take advantage of it!!

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy #roegadyn #femroe #roegadame #ff14 #bunny ears #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #Crystal Ash #Thyna #Thyn'a #Honeyrust #friends #Thyn'a Sindyrl #Thyna Sindyrl

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steliosagapitos · 2 years

Photo

Katharina Schratt, a portrait by Heinrich Von Angeli.

~ “The text that we are about to read is taken from a work that appeared in Vienna, Im glanz der Kaiserzeit (In the brilliance of the imperial era). The author is Princess Eleonora Fugger von Babenhausen who, by her birth (she was the daughter of Prince Charles of Hohenlohe-Bartenstein) as by her marriage, had the opportunity to familiarise herself with several members of the imperial family. In this chapter, she evokes the friendship that bound Emperor François-Joseph and Madame de Kiss-Schratt. A direct witness, she sheds a bright light on a famous episode in the Emperor's life.

In the intimacy of François-Joseph

In September 1895 I went with my children to Hietzing, that pretty part of Vienna full of villas. It was once the most elegant and popular Viennese country retreat. Hietzing has never been a suburb in the ordinary sense of the term. You can still see many of these aristocratic country houses there, they generally only have a ground floor, or at most one floor. In the middle of well-designed and carefully maintained gardens, one breathes the air of old Vienna. We feel transported to the time of rural simplicity of our grandparents and ancestors.

The name Hietzing is derived from that of the noble family Uezingen, who lived there from the 12th century. But this scholarly historical explanation is not to the taste of the Viennese, they prefer this one, more poetic: during the siege of Vienna by the Turks in 1529, the pasha Chassan Michel Oglu camped in the Hietzing today, and the statue of the Virgin was removed from the church and hidden in a tree. Four inhabitants of the village, taken prisoner by the Turks, chained to this tree, begged the Virgin to save them. They suddenly saw the tree light up and the statue surrounded by an extraordinarily bright light. At the same time they heard these words repeatedly: Hütseng (hütet euch), "beware", and the chains fell from their necks and feet. Since this wonderful adventure, Evoked by a painting placed above the high altar of the church of Hietzing, this statue of the Virgin is highly venerated. No empress, no archduchess, has failed to endow the church with some valuable object. Maria-Hietzing became a very popular place of pilgrimage, nevertheless remaining, before and after, a small village with very few inhabitants. When Marie-Thérèse made Schoenbrunn her summer residence, members of the aristocracy, ministers and diplomats were encouraged to build country houses in the vicinity of the imperial castle. Hietzing's greatest vogue dates back to the reign of Emperor Francis. The park of Schoenbrunn had been opened to the public, one could meet the Emperor there every day and all the Archdukes and Archduchesses, one breathed the air of the court, an omnibus made it possible to communicate with Vienna, and the Casino Dommayer played the first pretty waltzes by Lanner and Strauss. The Viennese have always loved and appreciated these things very much, and this is how Hietzing has become a real and elegant spa town, much sought after. The most brilliant years lasted until 1870. Then there was a quiet period until the inauguration of the state railway in 1899. Life there was then less peaceful. When I went to Hietzing in 1895, we were still far from the animation that reigns there today. Sunday was quite hectic, it is true, but the week was quiet and life was extraordinarily pleasant. I had taken a very pretty villa in the Gloriettengasse, next to the entrance to the Tyrolean garden and the botanical garden. I soon discovered that my neighbour was Catherine de Kiss-Schratt, the actress from the Hoftheater. My children were the first to meet him. They used to play in the garden in front of the villa and Madame Schratt passed there every day. So I didn't take long to get to know her either. I congratulated myself very much on him, his cheerful and natural ways immediately attracted me. Since then we have been on excellent terms as neighbours. So I didn't take long to get to know her either. I congratulated myself very much on him, his cheerful and natural ways immediately attracted me. Since then we have been on excellent terms as neighbours. So I didn't take long to get to know her either. I congratulated myself very much on him, his cheerful and natural ways immediately attracted me. Since then we have been on excellent terms as neighbours.

Catherine Schratt was born on September 11, 1855 in Baden, near Vienna. She came from a highly regarded family that had lived there for several generations. Trained by the diction master Strakosch, she was hired in 1872 at the Berlin theatre where she made her debut under the name of Gustel de Blasewitz. The following year she moved to the Stadttheater, director Laube, where she was almost exclusively entrusted with gay roles, with realistic humor. Laube held her in great esteem and had her play often, because she was a full house, the public enjoying her strongly. She played in 1878 at the German theatre in Moscow where Tsar Nicolas noticed her. She left the theatre in 1879 and married M. Antoine de Kiss, belonging to an old family of Hungarian gentlemen. She bore him a son in 1880. The young couple led during the first two years of their marriage a large and easy life, but at the beginning of 1882 the material concerns made their appearance and Madame de Kiss-Schratt took the resolution to go back on the stage. She first played in America. On her return to Vienna, she found her husband in dire financial straits. His father had died leaving his affairs in such a mess that the Kiss family was threatened with complete ruin. Good friends then advised Madame de Kiss-Schratt to seek an audience with the Emperor, to obtain from him that he order the restitution of the family properties previously confiscated by Hungary. An uncle of her husband, in fact, General Ernst von Kiss, had been shot in 1849 as a revolutionary and his property had been seized. The Emperor received Madame de Kiss-Schratt very graciously, but the audience yielded no result. The minister president, then Koloman de Tisza, declared that it was unconstitutional to devote the monies of the State to put back on feet a family which had been lost by its thoughtlessness. The widespread opinion that the Emperor François-Joseph had fallen in love with Madame de Kiss during this audience is a matter of fable. Two more years passed before the Emperor showed any interest in her. I have related elsewhere how it happened. State to put back on feet a family which had been lost by its lightness. The widespread opinion that the Emperor François-Joseph had fallen in love with Madame de Kiss during this audience is a matter of fable. Two more years passed before the Emperor showed any interest in her. I have related elsewhere how it happened. State to put back on feet a family which had been lost by its lightness. The widespread opinion that the Emperor François-Joseph had fallen in love with Madame de Kiss during this audience is a matter of fable. Two more years passed before the Emperor showed any interest in her. I have related elsewhere how it happened.

[Here is the passage to which the Princess alludes "The Emperor, since the engagement of Madame de Kiss-Schratt at the Hofburg theatre and during the audience he granted her on the subject of his family affairs, never hadn't otherwise paid attention to her. At the industrialists' ball, in 1885, His Majesty accosted him and spoke to him. There was nothing extraordinary about this, for at these annual balls at the Hofburg, the Emperor often singled out the artists, actors, or outstanding personalities by addressing a few words to them. Madame Schratt that evening was particularly pretty and the Emperor spoke to her at some length. Since then he went very often to the Burgtheater and never missed a performance when Madame Schratt played. The Empress generally accompanied him to the theatre, she shared his interest and approved of the little distraction these evenings afforded the Emperor. One day she sent for Professor von Angeli, a well-known painter, and commissioned him to paint a portrait of the actress for the Emperor. Angeli had not told Madame Schratt who the portrait was for. He did not confess until the last sitting that the Empress had him do it for the Emperor and that the Majesties would come to visit the workshop in a few moments. Mrs. Schratt stood up scared and asked where she could hide. It would be best, the professor told her, to wait outside, for it was possible that their Majesties would want to see her. The Emperor and Empress came, looked at the portrait, which was very well done, and, learning that Madame Schratt was in the adjoining room, they brought her in and chatted with her in the most lively fashion. The Emperor asked Madame Schratt, before she left the studio, where she would spend the summer. She replied that she was leaving immediately for Carlsbad, where she was to take a cure for three weeks. Then she would go to the Wolfgangsee and spend the summer at Frauenstein Castle, which she had rented. “I will then come to see you from Ischl,” said the Emperor. she had rented. “I will then come to see you from Ischl,” said the Emperor. she had rented. “I will then come to see you from Ischl,” said the Emperor.

Madame Schratt told me one day in what conditions this visit surprised her. The Emperor having learned the exact date of his coming to Frauenstein had sent a messenger in the evening announcing his visit for the following morning. Madame Schratt, who had just arrived, was in the middle of trunks which were not even unpacked. And he had to receive the august visitor with dignity in a few hours. First she summoned her cook, explained to her what it was all about and that in any case breakfast had to be ready.

"But today is Saturday, the shops are already closed and we have nothing in the house," exclaimed the paling cook in horror.

He won't take much, make do with what we have,” replied Mrs. Schratt.

The Emperor having arrived the next morning, she said timidly during the conversation:

"Can I offer something to your Majesty?" »

“Certainly, certainly, I shall have great pleasure in lunch. The Empress told me that we had very good things to eat at your place. »

My embarrassment was at its height, added Madame Schratt, when I remembered that I had nothing but Régie cigars at home, for I knew how much His Majesty liked to smoke a good cigar. But it is not true that I cried out as people repeated later: “Jesus! And I have nothing in my house now but a bad Imperial! (The people thus named the cigars of the Imperial Regie.) ]

Madame de Kiss-Schratt was hired in 1883 at the Hofburg theatre without any protection; she made her debut there as Lorle in “Town and Village” under the name of Käthchen von Heilbronn. His comrades are unanimous in praising his amiable and charming character. She was always cheerful and full of humor, but always of perfect morality. She allowed neither loose dress nor inappropriate jokes. During his stay at Hietzing, and more than once since, I have been his guest. The hours I have spent with her have always been full of pleasure. Her house was a real jewellery box, filled with the most beautiful artistic treasures. She showed them willingly and spoke of them with great skill. One often met at her place the most interesting personalities. The highest dignitaries,

I very often saw there the German ambassador at the time, Prince Eulenburg, who was very sympathetic to me and made the impression of a particularly gifted man. It was touching to hear him speak lovingly of his wife and children. He frequently read me his poems, tales and short stories, testimonies of a deep nature and great poetic gifts. The dreadful destiny which was his a few years later and caused him to fall from such a height, certainly aroused feelings of hateful satisfaction in people who had envied a happiness which had never failed him before: the friendship which bound him to the Emperor William, the power at his disposal. I had the greatest compassion for him, for he alone paid for so many others, who, like him, afflicted with abnormal tendencies, had indulged in the same vice. Even more than all the interesting people I met at her house, Madame Schratt retained my curiosity, because her affair with the Emperor Franz Joseph was an enigma to me. I came to think that it was something of a miracle. The solution to the riddle was given to me in the simplest way in the world when I really got to know Madame Schratt. It was indeed a prodigy, this bond of friendship which united Madame Schratt to the Emperor Francis-Joseph, the inaccessible representative of sovereignty. But there was nothing supernatural about it, on the contrary: the prodigy was his perfect naturalness. It affected everyone who knew her. She knew how to entertain the Emperor. His cheerfulness, which never crosses the limits of propriety, her inexhaustible humor combined with great kindness, her delicate tact which never allowed her to forget that she was before her Emperor, won her all the confidence of her august friend. And the Empress knew that Madame Schratt was giving her husband what she herself could not give him: happy, carefree hours with a woman who offered her no problem to solve. Madame Schratt had an exceptional situation at court, a situation which did not depend solely on the Emperor Franz Joseph; she possessed in the same degree the friendship and the confidence of the Empress and of the most intimate circle of the imperial family. It is significant in this respect that the Empress first communicated the crushing news of the death of the Kronprinz, not to the Kronprinzessin, not to her daughter Valérie,

Empress Elisabeth repeated many times to her entourage later that Madame de Kiss-Schratt was a great support to her at this terrible moment. She advised her daughters never to abandon Madame Schratt after her death. Princess Gisèle of Bavaria is faithful to this wish of the Empress, she showed Madame Schratt her benevolence in all circumstances, she always went to see her during her visits to Vienna and also often received her in her palace in Munich. Even today, wherever I meet Princess Gisele, she asks me for news of Madame Schratt and entrusts me with her memories for her. The Archduchess Valérie, on the contrary, held herself with reserve, for the family of Tuscany, into which she entered by marriage, had never been well disposed towards Madame Schratt. As' Archduchess Valérie was of a shy nature and without energy, she was never able to make her opinion prevail. She was an exemplary wife, an ideal mother, devoted solely to her loved ones. She lived mostly in the countryside, preferably at Wallsee Castle, where she died in her fifty-sixth year. When he died, all the neighborhood came running to accompany him one last time. Princess Gisèle, having married in Bavaria, had thereby become a little foreign to Viennese society. She was the favorite daughter of the Emperor, who was always very happy when she came to Ischl in the summer. After the death of the Kronprinz, the bonds of friendship which united the Emperor Franz-Joseph to Madame Schratt became even closer. The Empress had been very shaken by her immense pain, his health seriously compromised. She traveled frequently, and Madame Schratt had to keep the Emperor company so that he did not feel too alone. Empress Elisabeth instructed Madame Schratt, before each of her absences, to care for and watch over the Emperor, like a nurse taking care of a child. She advised him to see to it that the Emperor took his usual exercise, did not spend the whole day at his writing table, and finally did not neglect his health. Madame de Kiss-Schratt thus entered completely into the intimacy of the imperial family. Princess Gisèle and Archduchess Valérie often dined with the Emperor at Madame Schratt's, either at the Villa Felicitas, in Ischl, or in the rue de la Gloriette. Was the Empress at Lainz, she frequently invited Madame Schratt to some meal. Countless telegrams from the Emperor's hand clearly show that Madame de Kiss-Schratt enjoyed consideration and esteem in the Imperial family. I will cite only a few of these documents. Thus, on June 11, 1894, François-Joseph telegraphed:

Madame Catherine de Kiss-Schratt, Wien Hietzing No. 9 Gloriettenstrasse. Empress invites you for three o'clock tomorrow at the villa for a meal. Please telegraph immediately whether you agree or not. Thank you very much for your letter. FRANCOIS-JOSEPH

On September 20, 1894, the Emperor telegraphed from Corfu:

Madame Catherine de Kiss-Schratt Ischl Villa Felicitas. Thank you very kind letter. Have calmed down but unfortunately can't write. When will you be in Hietzing? Hoping soon to see a thousand cordial memories of Corfu, those also of the Empress. FRANCOIS-JOSEPH

Or the Emperor's handwritten order to his valet Ketterl to telephone the following to Madame de Kiss-Schratt at the Villa Félicitas:

HH Valérie wishes to see Madame de Kiss-Schratt again. At what time will she join us in the garden? Please answer.

There are many such instructions written to the valet Ketterl.

When I moved to Hietzing in the autumn of 1895, I not only had the opportunity to enter into more intimate relations with Madame de Kiss-Schratt and to maintain lively relations with her as good neighbours, but I also had the joy of getting to know the Emperor better. I often met him in the street or in the park of Schoenbrunn, where he walked very freely, without following. Police officers kept watch from a distance, but they were not to let themselves be seen. The Emperor had a horror of any surveillance exercised around him. He considered these precautions superfluous, for he felt perfectly safe. No one was thinking of an attack, that's for sure, but it happened that petitioners approaching the Emperor, overwhelmed him with their requests. To remedy,

Emperor Franz Joseph was always very gracious to me. If I met him, he would stop and talk to me. From half past six in the morning, after having worked for two hours, he crossed the park of Schoenbrunn, passed in front of the menagerie through the Tyrolean and botanical gardens, to go to rue de la Gloriette at Madame Schratt's, have lunch there with her, before to take her for a walk in the park. This walk lasted about an hour, then the Emperor drove Madame Schratt back to the villa. If he was at the Hofburg and the weather was fine, he would drive to Schoenbrunn after lunch, around one o'clock, to take a walk with Madame Schratt in the Kammergarten, the part of the park reserved for the Emperor. If the weather was bad, he had his valet telephone Hietzing: "The Emperor will not be going to Schoenbrunn today and asks if Madame will come to the Burg after one o'clock." Madame Schratt always knew how to distract the Emperor during these public walks. She told him all sorts of anecdotes which he gladly listened to and laughed at heartily, but these stories should not be risky or double-edged. It was a genre he didn't like. She also told many gossip of the world, but always with kindness. It never occurred to her to speak ill of anyone to the Emperor. On the contrary, it was essentially conciliatory, soothing, and amused the Emperor. How many people, even members of the imperial family, owe their return to favor to his skilful and delicate intervention. That was precisely her art and no one could replace her, not even in the imperial family. She could tell the Emperor everything and always had a favorable influence over him. Madame de Kiss-Schratt was able, for thirty years, to play the role of a far-sighted and cheerful lady-in-waiting to Her Majesty, bringing a little sunshine to her solitary life. Lonely he was, although he had children, grandchildren and many relatives. His very reserved nature alienated even those closest to him. The Emperor seemed to them as inaccessible as if an impassable barrier separated them from him. Madame de Kiss-Schratt alone succeeded in approaching the Emperor, humanly speaking. The charm of his personality opened the heart of Emperor Franz Joseph where no one else could penetrate. Although there was no privateness between them, the Emperor always saying "Madame" to Madame Schratt and she never speaking to him except by treating him of Majesty, she was none the less the only one with whom he talked about everything that occupied him political concerns, difficult family business, in short he discussed all serious matters with her. And during all those years during which Madame Schratt enjoyed that unlimited confidence, so genuinely friendly of the Emperor, it never happened to her to meddle in an intrigue, to make a malicious gossip, or to be herself in it. the object. Nor did she ever repeat what the Emperor had said to her. What had happened to him personally, what she had heard, she related to the Emperor when she thought to entertain him thereby. Such conduct cannot be overestimated.

I gave a dinner party after having made the acquaintance of Madame de Kiss-Schratt and I invited her with some gentlemen. Popular singers had enlivened the evening and we separated at a very late hour. I met the Emperor the next day, in the garden of Schoenbrunn, he greeted me, as always, and detained me by asking me this question "Tell me, please, who was the gentleman whose uniform was unusual and who dined at your house yesterday? "Unusual uniform," I repeated questioningly. “Who could it be? I had no foreign officer at my dinner. »

I then had the idea that it was perhaps Count Herbert Herberstein, staff officer, military attaché in Paris, who was on short leave in Vienna. And I told the Emperor it could only be him.

Her Majesty smiled and said, "You see by that how little Mrs. Schratt knows about our uniforms." She told me it was something quite special! »

Madame de Kiss-Schratt begged me a few days later to send my son Georges to her. She wanted to present him to the Emperor. I was quite disturbed, because my son was, despite his six years, a very bold little fellow and incredibly outspoken. I was afraid he wasn't being respectful enough. I gave him all sorts of recommendations, among other things, I told him not to forget to kiss the Emperor's hand.

He came in very comfortably in his white sailor suit and I waited for his return with beating heart. He returned home triumphant with a large box of soldiers and told me that everything had gone very well. The Emperor had been very kind to him. “However, Mama,” he added, “you weren't right about the kiss of the hand, the Emperor told me that you don't kiss the hand of a man, but of a ladies. »

Shortly afterwards I had the high distinction of a visit from His Majesty. It was November 15, 1895, before noon I took good note of the day. I saw from the window the gate of my garden open, and, to my great astonishment, the Emperor, who was rapidly heading towards the house. I ran quickly down the stairs to meet her. Very touched, I thanked him for his visit. He had come in a general's undress, without a suite, entirely as a private individual and he had not been announced. My children weren't there, I was all alone, and I must admit that I was very embarrassed. He inquired about my children and especially about Georges, whom he already knew and whose writing exercises he saw on the table he examined and praised. Anyone who knows how much the Emperor Franz Joseph was inaccessible and to what extent he was reserved by nature, will understand what, as a young woman of thirty-one, I felt when I saw him in my living room alone, familiar with me. . I still piously guard the chair on which he sat.

Madame Schratt came to my house on December 9 and asked me to come and have lunch with her the next day with my son. The Emperor would also be there. I naturally accepted with joy, but this new and undoubtedly interesting meeting with the Emperor made me very nervous. The toilet question tormented me. And how would my little George, who was so impulsive, behave? I had terrible nightmares during the night. Finally, I choose a dress suit in covercoat cloth. I squeezed my neck tight in a man's collar, which gave me nameless buzzes, but it was fashionable then and I said to myself: "You have to suffer to be beautiful." Madame de Kiss-Schratt and I waited for Her Majesty in the salon. When he arrived, she went to meet him in the antechamber. I I was too preoccupied with the happiness of sharing the Emperor's meal so intimately to pay attention to what I ate. I only noticed that the oysters, removed from their shell, were served on a glass plate, dressed in oil and vinegar, which I had never seen before. The Emperor was in a very good mood. His somewhat stiff ceremonial air had disappeared. I then remembered an incident in which I had been able, very involuntarily, to disobey the Emperor. Emperor was in a very good mood. His somewhat stiff ceremonial air had disappeared. I then remembered an incident in which I had been able, very involuntarily, to disobey the Emperor. Emperor was in a very good mood. His somewhat stiff ceremonial air had disappeared. I then remembered an incident in which I had been able, very involuntarily, to disobey the Emperor.

This incident dated back two years. Maneuvers took place at Guns from September 16 to 20, 1893 in the presence of the Emperor William. I wanted to attend and went from Odenburg to Guns in the company of the Countess Alberti, wife of the Emperor's aide-de-camp. The horse was forbidden to me, because it had been barely six weeks since my son Leopold had been born. So we followed by car. We let the German Ambassador's wife, Princess Reuss, take the lead, she always knew where the Emperor and the maneuvers could best be seen from. We came to a sunken road and dismounted. The Emperor Franz Joseph suddenly appeared at a gallop with all his suite, and hunters and infantry, hidden in the tall grass that lined both sides of the road, erupted in a terrible fusillade. We had not seen them. We knew that the Emperor Franz Joseph took a dim view of the spectators at the maneuvers and we hurried to the cars to get out of this worrying situation as quickly as possible. The Princess Reuss succeeded in this, but another car, whose occupants had moved away, was wedged against mine and I was obliged to wait for these unfortunate walkers to free themselves, they were, as I learned more late, reporters. The Emperor, however, was a stone's throw away. His voice resounded, irritated: "To the devil with this damned car! How do we leave it here in the middle of a maneuvering field !" to what finally we can take refuge in a village. We had lost all desire to follow the maneuvers and came home very sheepish. The following day, more skilful, we left the car in a small village and we climbed a hill on foot from where we wanted to look at the troops from a respectful distance this time. I was resting on a bollard, very uncomfortably, when I saw a yard car coming at a brisk trot. I stood up to curtsy in case it was a member of the imperial family. I looked at the car carefully and recognised the Emperor William. At his side sat General-Prince Louis Windischgraetz, who was somewhat related to me and with whom I was very close. He recognised me immediately and I noticed that he whispered something to the Emperor, after which the latter greeted me in the most amiable manner. After the car passed, the Emperor William turned and smiled at me. I was naturally very flattered and I must confess that he seemed to me more agreeable at that moment than the Emperor Franz Joseph, who had treated me so cavalierly the day before. Prince Windischgraetz, in the evening, told me to place myself the next day so that he could introduce me to the Emperor William, who had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance. But this presentation did not take place. I did not know the Emperor William personally until many years later. he seemed to me more agreeable at that moment than the Emperor Francis Joseph, who had treated me so cavalierly the day before. Prince Windischgraetz, in the evening, told me to place myself the next day so that he could introduce me to the Emperor William, who had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance. But this presentation did not take place. I did not know the Emperor William personally until many years later. he seemed to me more agreeable at that moment than the Emperor Francis Joseph, who had treated me so cavalierly the day before. Prince Windischgraetz, in the evening, told me to place myself the next day so that he could introduce me to the Emperor William, who had expressed a desire to make my acquaintance. But this presentation did not take place. I did not know the Emperor William personally until many years later.

I therefore thought I could recall this incident to the Emperor, while we were so familiarly assembled at Madame Schratt's. And I began boldly: "Your Majesty will allow me to justify myself on the unfortunate incident of Guns' maneuvers." »

The Emperor immediately stopped me.

“Please don't talk about that, I'm still confused today that I lost my patience so much. I really ask your forgiveness. I didn't recognise you, of course. You have no idea the inconvenience caused by spectators during maneuvers. Madame Schratt told me later that the Emperor had been very irritated that time because the Ambassador Princess Reuss was irritating him, because, he said, "She wants to poke her nose everywhere." »

When the Emperor lit his cigar after lunch, Madame de Kiss-Schratt wanted to offer him a comfortable armchair, but the Emperor flatly refused, despite the astonished exclamation of the mistress of the house "But His Majesty still sits in that chair! He obviously didn't want to allow himself to take his ease in front of me, as an old gentleman does in private.

The Archduke Louis-Victor, having learned that I was meeting the Emperor at Hietzing and that I had even lunched with him, thought of sharing this honour with other ladies. He brought the Imperial family together every Sunday for a family dinner which generally took place at the Hofburg, sometimes also at the home of one of the Emperor's brothers, the Archduke Charles-Louis, or the Archduke Louis-Victor, or at the Archduke Frederick, or the Duke of Cumberland. These family dinners were always very boring. The Archduke therefore thought it would be a pleasant diversion for the Emperor if he gave dinners to which he invited women of the Society. The Emperor accepted three invitations. The result was not brilliant. I was once present with my husband at one of these imperial dinners; they were very formal there, and the Emperor was not in a very good mood. It was seen that, having left his habitual regulated life, he was not exactly delighted with the Archduke's invention. These dinners were therefore not continued. It occurred to me that the Emperor had expressed himself thus: "The Archduke Louis-Victor still wanted to show off and get involved in everything !" »

I rode a lot at that time and I especially took my eldest son Georges with me. He was only six years old, but he showed a lot of aptitude and taste for this sport. He was riding a small pony that I held on the lead. Returning one day to the villa, having dismounted and leading our horses, we met the Emperor. My son had his head down and looked very upset. The Emperor noticed this and asked what had happened.

“The little one fell off his pony and it saddens him a lot. »

'Well, well,' resumed the Emperor, turning to my little boy, 'you don't need to attach any importance to this incident. I fell off my horse many times when I was young. This is the only way you learn to ride. »

The Emperor was perfectly right; the future proved it. My son Georges has become a very good rider. In June 1912, at the Olympia International Horse Show in London, he won first prize on his eight-year-old mare Othero. He was a lieutenant in the bodyguards and won out over twenty-eight competitors, he alone being a German officer, which fills my mother's heart with pride.

We didn't have good ground for the horse in Hietzing. It was forbidden to gallop across the fields and we had to content ourselves with trotting in the paths or risking a short gallop on the narrow edges of the meadows. I complained about it to Madame Schratt, who told the Emperor the very next day, and the latter immediately gave me the benevolent authorization to walk my horses as I pleased in the Tiergarten at Lainz, on condition that I did so only 'in the absence of the Empress. It was disagreeable to her, when she was at the castle, to meet anyone during her solitary walks. Empress Elisabeth preferred, in her walks in the Tiergarten, the part reserved for wild boars. To keep the animals away, which were sometimes bothersome, she used a small cover that she always wore. She was accompanied by a lady of the court, a lackey following at some distance. Madame Schratt told me that the Empress had asked her how I was on horseback. She only liked slim figures. It was hard to wrestle with her in that regard. She used all possible means to keep her figure, this to the detriment of her health, this is perhaps the origin of the heart disease from which she suffered during the last years of her life. Thank God, although not absolutely responding to his ideas of thinness, I was in an honest average and did not entirely bring me his disgrace. I often met her in the park of Schoenbrunn during her walks. But the moment we approached her, she put on her fan, which she never parted with, in front of his face, so that his features could not be seen. One day, however, I managed to see her. It was in the park, on the path that leads to the Gloriette. She was accompanied by her Greek teacher. I found her very changed, very aged, her complexion had the color of leather, but her figure was still beautiful, slim and supple, her gait was the same, straight and proud. She was going so fast that you couldn't tell she was walking, she was running, and her teacher had the task, during this galloping walk, of reading her the Greek classics. The Emperor told me one day that she usually went from Schoenbrunn to the Gloriette sixteen times, there and back. It is really surprising that the poor Greek professor could endure this. Besides, after some time, I learned later,

One afternoon I met her car, which was going to fetch her in the upper and reserved part of the park of Schoenbrunn. I ran quickly behind and waited with several people who, like me, hoped to see the Empress again. We waited long enough, finally the gate opened. We saw the beautiful carriage with golden wheels approaching, pulled by dappled horses. But what a disappointment! the Empress had quickly lowered the blinds of the car and we could see nothing. We were frustrated with the fruit of our labors. It occurred to me involuntarily that the Empress could not be of normal mind. It was commonly said that the blood of the Wittelsbachs was involved. It seems to me more logical to attribute these abnormal dispositions to the blood of the Landgraves of Hesse which flows from elsewhere in the veins of the Wittelsbachs. The Landgraves of Hesse in particular, it is singular, had, for the most part, a mania for concealing themselves from view. The last survivors of the Hesse-Homburg house, who died around 1860, always went out at dusk in a closed car, with the blinds down. And this car only went on roads outside the city, never through the city. The meeting of this car at a peaceful trot was something hallucinating, I read somewhere. And seeing the blinds down on the Empress' car, I couldn't help thinking that these dispositions are hereditary. The eccentricity of the landgraves of Hesse, since the seventeenth century, has been proven. They claimed to see spirits. Landgrave George II of Hesse-Darmstadt (1626-1661) suffered from this disease, as did Frederick II of Hesse-Homburg, the hero of Fehrbellin, and the langdrave of Hesse-Cassel, “the curious Lord and seller of souls”. Louis IX of Hesse-Darmstadt was also afflicted with fear of spirits. He usually stayed awake, spending the nights in conversation with court officials or with the military chaplain Venator, his spiritual director. It is said that he had him called at one o'clock in the morning one night, "to know from him for certain whether the high priest in the Old Testament went into the Holy of Holies with his head covered." He was so tormented by the fear of spirits that he rented, it is said, the large apartments of the castle of Darmstadt. Emperor Joseph said of this castle "I would have here, me and the nine electors, all the place desired. The Hessian blood runs in the veins of the Empress Elisabeth, as in those of her husband and cousin the Emperor Franz-Joseph. From his four grandparents, the Kronprinz Rodolphe therefore had Hessian blood. It is not surprising that this prince, thus hereditarily tainted, was an unusual man, doomed to an exceptionally tragic end.

The Lainz Tiergarten, where I often went on horseback in the morning, is indeed one of the most beautiful sites I have seen. I do not know of a capital in the immediate vicinity of which there is a natural park of such beauty and extent. Its creation and maintenance are solely due to the love of nature and hunting that characterizes the Habsburgs. To protect the surrounding crops, fields and vines against game, especially to the west and north-west of Vienne, the wooded part of the right bank of Vienne was early surrounded by a palisade. What protected it against the constructions and the factories. The wall surrounding the Imperial Tiergarten has imperiously stopped building speculators.

Morning rides in this beautiful park are some of my fondest memories. They not only gave me great sporting pleasure, they showed me nature in all its beauty. Nature in the Tiergarten is extraordinarily varied. In the western parts especially, the Johann wood, the rich alternation of old forests and immense sunny meadows gives the walker the spectacle of paintings of nameless beauty. In autumn, when the foliage of the centuries-old beeches and oaks, standing out against the dark pines, took on color and seemed bathed in gold, when the religious peace of the forest was disturbed only by the tread of horses or the frantic flight of a herd, my heart dilated.

Madame Schratt's position, as long as the Empress lived, was quite secure. No one at court would have dared to attack him. This intimacy between the sovereigns and Madame Schratt tormented the grand intendant of the court, Prince Hobenlohe: he feared that this familiarity of the Emperor with a lady was, very wrongly, misinterpreted. Without taking any action against Madame Schratt, he nevertheless kept his distance. His successor, Prince Rodolphe Liechtenstein, went a lot to Madame de Kiss-Schratt's, he even talked about her with the Emperor, which no other person in his entourage would have dared to do. The Prince was a man of rare kindness, and very sympathetic, whom I had known since my childhood and held in high esteem. I dined with him more than once at Madame Schratt's, and I was able to convince myself that he was very attached to her. On the other hand, her nephew and successor, Prince Alfred Montenuovo, was Madame Schratt's most bitter enemy. The exceptional situation of this artist at the Burgtheater did not please him. She often interceded with the Emperor for comrades whom Montenuovo wanted to get rid of. She bothered him, because he wanted to be sole master and director of the court theatre.

The Emperor Franz Joseph remained all the more attached to Madame Schratt, whose position, however, had become more difficult. The Empress's death had cost him his staunchest support, and Montenuovo was a powerful enemy. There was a conflict as early as 1900. Madame de Kiss-Sehratt had acquired a play in Paris [the rights to play this play, editor's note], where she could have played a very interesting role. The Emperor Napoleon appeared on the scene. Montenuovo and the director Schlenther decided against accepting the play and the Emperor undertook to let Madame Schratt know, telling her that it was impossible to have the Emperor Napoleon appear on the stage of the Burgtheater. Mrs. Schratt was offended to the highest point. She took quite a long leave and began to travel foreign. At the end of her leave, as she did not appear, a recall order was sent to her. She tendered her resignation. And the Emperor accepted it without more. He didn't know women, and it never occurred to him to get along with Madame Schratt first. He believed that if she wanted his leave, she wanted it promptly, otherwise she wouldn't have asked for it. He had no idea that an artist always takes a little time out and that Mrs. Schratt certainly hadn't imagined that her resignation would be accepted so quickly. Montenuovo and Schlenther were glad to have removed Madame Schratt and to have nullified her influence at the Burgtheater. They knew how to present things in such a way that the Emperor believed that Madame Schratt was tired of playing and wanted to regain her freedom of action. Mrs. Schratt was deeply hurt by the rapid acceptance of her resignation. She remained a whole year without returning to Vienna. Prince Liechtenstein, who saw how lonely the Emperor felt, did everything in the world to bring her back to Vienna, and he finally succeeded. She was warned, before she saw the Emperor again, that he did not wish to return to the question, nor to hear of it. It would obviously have been all the more disagreeable to him since he realised that he had made a mistake and felt he could not repair it. Finally, the Emperor believed that Madame Schratt would quickly forget her resentment, in which he was mistaken. She always remembered this incident, less because it had cost him a wound in his self-esteem only because the Emperor had not openly taken his side, as the Empress would certainly have done. What happened there was quite natural. The Emperor hated discussions. He wanted to avoid them whenever possible and, since Montenuovo and Mrs. Schratt didn't get along, he had seen no other solution than to separate them.

Montenuovo, in my opinion, made a big mistake by dismissing Mrs. Schratt. The Emperor had a solitary and sad life. His visits to the Burgtheater were among his rare distractions. It would have been Montenuovo's duty to do everything in the world to preserve this little joy for him. When Madame Schratt left the Burgtheater in October 1899, he completely lost interest in the theatre. He never attended a performance again.” ~

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aboxthecolourofheartache · 3 years

Note

77. Grooming in front of each other with shadowgast

(Elegant elven perfection is not a naturally occurring state, Caleb, it takes work)

Yeet? cw: Essek-typical fatalism, shaving nicks? I suppose that counts at a cut so better safe than sorry? Caleb wakes to the sound of someone rummaging in the downstairs cupboards. His heart rate skyrockets until remembers that Essek arrived in the grey hours of dawn. He did not intend to fall asleep again, but he must have dozed off on the sofa. Sitting up, he dislodges a cat and— ...And what appears to be Essek’s cloak. Caleb optimistically packed the winter blankets into storage and brought out the summer linens last week. Essek must not have been able to find a blanket.

Ever since their first solo exploratory trip into Aeor and Caleb’s near miss with fingertip frostbite, Essek frets about him getting cold. Never aloud, of course, but in the form of blankets and little terracotta handwarmers and less than subtle insistence that Caleb always retain his higher level spells to cast the Tower at the end of the day. The last was as much for Essek’s benefit as Caleb’s. Wealth and status do not prepare a man to sleep - or trance - on the hard ground.

Caleb soothes the cat and stands, stretching the kinks out of his back. He folds Essek’s cloak and steals a guilty moment to hold the soft fabric to his face and breathe in the scent of travel and orris root. The cat immediately buns up on the folded cloak. Essek will shed tabby-ticked hairs for a fortnight.

Caleb yawns. His stubble itches. He might leave it a while longer, but he has a guest and ought to be presentable. This is only the second time he’s seen Essek since returning from their Aeorian expedition, and it is the first time either of them felt bold enough to suggest Essek stay in Caleb’s home while visiting. Caleb tells himself that the queasy feeling in his stomach is not shyness or nerves but a lack of breakfast. But one thing at a time: beard first, breakfast later.

The bathroom door is ajar, so Caleb thinks nothing of opening it. He leaves it that way so the cats can access the sink - one of the most preferred beds in the house despite all the cozy cushions he’s tucked into open drawers or secured to windowsills. Essek and the cream-colored monster in the sink both startle. Two pairs of wide-open, slit-pupiled eyes blink at Caleb.

Essek and Caleb apologize over each other.

“I am so sorry—”

“Your pardon, I had no idea—”

Caleb laughs uncertainly, and Essek crooks a smile.

“Ah, your cat is in the sink?” Essek gestures at the cat. It rolls onto its back, exposing an expanse of meringue-fluff tummy, legs pointing out in undignified directions to stretch.

“Oh! Yes, of course, just let me, um—” Caleb spatulas the cat from the sink like a dollop of creme from a ramekin. It complains loudly and sags from his hands until he drops it on the floor just outside the door.

“You can just… grab them like that?” Essek watches the cat give Caleb the evil eye and stalk away.

“You can, if you are familiar with the cat. I would not recommend doing so with a stranger.” Caleb makes a claw shape with his hand to demonstrate why this is a bad idea. “I am so sorry I did not knock. The door was open and the light was off, so I assumed…”

Essek half-winces, half-smiles. “I do not need so much light to see. It should have occurred to me that that would be a human indicator. And I hoped if I left the door open, the cat would leave.”

They look awkwardly into different corners of the small room until Essek clears his throat. “Did you need…?”

“No, no. I intended to shave.”

“And I was going to—” Essek gestures at his hair. Then he ducks his head and blushes. “Not to mention that I have already raided your kitchen this morning. Do you mind if I use this?”

Caleb taps the magical bulb that hangs over the mirror, lighting it at its dimmest setting to read the label on the bottle Essek holds. “Oh! Of course. Jester went shopping for baking essentials without me when she last visited. She couldn’t read the labels and brought home sweet almond oil instead of extract. It’s all yours.”

“Wonderful, thank you.”

Caleb’s blush is making his stubble feel itchier, which is ridiculous but all the more incentive to get it off his face. He attempts to cut the uncertainty by taking his shaving kit from the cabinet under the sink and beginning his routine. Essek takes the cue and drapes a clean dish towel over his shoulders, retrieves a wide-toothed comb from the air, and uncorks the bottle of sweet almond oil.

Caleb watches Essek from the corner of his eye while working soap into a lather with the brush in his shaving bowl. Essek carefully parts his hair into small sections and scrunches oil through his dense, silvery white curls. He sighs.

“This is the first I’ve been near civilization in a while. Prestidigitation only does so much.”

Caleb smiles and daubs lather onto his face. “On the run and worried about your hair?”

“I have very few harmless vanities, Caleb Widogast. My appearance is one, but my real face is a death sentence. Even if they do not know who I am or what I have done, people often hate a drow for being a drow. Let me have my hair.”

Caleb’s hand and humor fall. “Essek, I am sorry. That was a callous dismissal of your situation.”

Essek winces, looks down at the bottle of sweet almond oil then up at the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut. “No, I am— I am sorry. I am bitter about my circumstances, not at you, especially when you are taking the risk to shelter me for a mere social visit, opening your home when you have only just gained stability...”

Essek literally sinks, floating feet weighed towards the floor as he starts to spiral. Caleb recalls a night in Aeor when the Tower cats woke him in the night and led him down the hall, into Essek’s suite, into the beautiful study where Essek had crammed himself under the desk with his hands fisted in his hair, petrified, immobilized, and as high as a kite on the drug of despair. Caleb recalls nights when Veth found him the same way. He does the first and most irrational thing that sparks across his mind.

Caleb pops the lathered shaving brush into the middle of Essek’s face, leaving a circle of frothy suds.

Essek sputters, spitting soap suds and trying to clear them from his nose. At least, Caleb thinks, none went into his eyes. It takes a moment for Essek to start laughing, but he does, an unused sound from a man trying to unlearn more than a century of restraining any kind of softness. He leans his forearms on the sink and eventually turns on the tap to wash his face with cold water.

Caleb finishes lathering and picks up his razor. “Alright?” he asks. Trying to match the less unbalanced, actually humorous edge of Essek’s laughter, he adds, “It is only that I need to concentrate for this.”

Essek blots his face dry, takes a shaky breath, and puts an equally shaky smile on his face. He very deliberately picks up the bottle of sweet almond oil again and tips a little into his hand. “Alright,” he confirms. “Much better. Soon to be much prettier. You are safe to remove your barbaric fuzz.”

Caleb laughs, and promptly nicks himself.

#thank you for the prompt!! :D #Box attempts CritRole #Happy Fun Box of Writing #they are terminally awkward god bless #Essek Thelyss

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

a drop in the ocean — sirius black

pairing: sirius black x female!reader

summary: sirius teaches reader that love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

warnings: cheating, swearing

a/n: this was inspired by the song “a drop in the ocean” by ron pope! this is a little different from what i'm used to since the overall theme is a lot more ??? mature ?? i guess ?? i kind of stepped out of my comfort zone with this but i hope you guys like it :')

It's bizarre how much pain can change you.

You become this entirely different person. You look the same on the surface, but somewhere deep inside you, you're someone else. You're stronger. Everything that has happened to you—all the tears you've shed, the people who have hurt you, the pain you've endured—all of them shapes you into something more. Something better.

And one day, you will wake up, look back at everything that you have endured, and you will smile. And it will feel like the puzzle pieces of the world have fallen back into place again—and maybe it's been that way for a long time. Maybe you've come so far in terms of healing and you're only just now starting to notice.

[Y/N] [Y/L/N] wakes up one summer morning, when the sun is warm and promise of a new day looms above her head. She swings her legs over her bed, pads over to the window in the corner of the room where sunshine filters through, draws the curtains open. Here she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and just—

Remembers.

And this time, it doesn't hurt anymore.

—

Sirius Black was a charmer.

He wasn't just handsome; he was attractive. He knew exactly how to get people to swoon over him without laying it on too thick. He'd send a quick glance over anyone's way—one that made them feel as though they were the only person on earth he could see—and that person would fall.

They'd want him, fooling themselves into the belief that they were different. That they were special in a way that none of Sirius Black's previous flings were.

They'd end up with their hearts broken, of course. Shattered to bits and left at their feet for them to clean up on their own, because Sirius just couldn't bother.

It would happen within a month or two. Some much less.

But [Y/N] lasted the longest.

She was in Ravenclaw, and had caught Sirius's eye in her sixth year. She wishes she could say that she was different—that she hadn't fallen for him the moment he'd gone up to her in the Great Hall and steered her away from her friends, asking for her name—but she wasn't. She'd taken one look at Sirius's eyes, seen what seemed like genuine sincerity in them, and felt her sixteen-year-old heart doing odd little flips inside of her chest against her will.

Sirius Black liked her.

It took a month before he asked her out. Made it, as some would say, "official". A part of [Y/N] knew that it wouldn't last long, but she would enjoy this—enjoy him—while she still had him. She'd never felt this way for anyone before, and despite her brain telling her that Sirius Black was trouble, her heart said otherwise.

A month together turned into two. And three, and then four, five, and suddenly the rest of Hogwarts was wondering when Sirius planned to break things off with her.

[Y/N] wondered it, too. But Sirius still looked at her the same way he had done all those months ago when he'd asked for her name, like she was everything in the world he'd been hoping for—like she was different. Like he actually held real feelings for her and not just the kind you try out one second and then get bored of the next.

She wanted to believe that look in his eyes, but she'd heard the rumors. and on top of that there were her friends' warnings, telling her that Sirius was no good for her and that he would break her heart one way or the other.

One day, while they sat at the balcony of Ravenclaw tower during one of the many times she'd snuck Sirius into the common room, she glanced at him.

They were sitting on the floor facing each other, legs crossed underneath them. Sirius's hands were in her own; her fingers played with the rings decorating his, turning them over and over.

"I like this one," she murmured, her touch lingering on the silver one on his middle finger. It was elegant, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin, simple and with what looked like a crest emblazoned on the middle. She looked up at him and found him looking at her—gaze intense and yet somehow also gentle, like he was memorizing every last detail of her face and committing them to memory. Softly, she asked, "Does it mean anything?"

Sirius made a small sound of confirmation, eyes leaving hers to look down at the ring, watching as her fingers grazed over it. "Yeah," he said quietly, blinking, lashes dusting pale cheeks before he was looking up at her again. It took a while for the rest of his words to get out of his mouth; he looked as though he was in deep thought, watching her with something unreadable dancing just behind his eyes.

And then Sirius was clearing his throat, shifting on where he sat. When he spoke next, his voice was oddly soft. Sincere. (And again [Y/N] found herself wondering: are you pretending?)

Because it was during moments like these that made her think that what Sirius felt for her was real.

"It's from, uh," he cleared his throat again, and [Y/N] didn't fail to notice the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. His gaze was skittering away, looking instead at the scenery below them instead of at her. "It's from James's family. The Potters. I.. ran away from my family, see, about a year ago."

As [Y/N] listened to him speak, watched as his eyes grew hard and he swallowed with difficulty, she realized—this was something important to him. He wouldn't lie about this just to get closer to her; he was laying part of himself bare to her that very few people had ever seen.

"They took me in," Sirius said quietly, still not quite looking at her. "When I had nowhere else to go, they let me stay over at their place. And that same Christmas, they gave me this ring to.. welcome me to their family, I guess." Emotion tugged his lips upwards at the corners. "I'm grateful for them," he told her, nodding a little to himself, and then he was looking up at her, meeting her eyes.

He was relieved to see that there wasn't any sympathy in them. just—and Sirius found it suddenly very hard to breathe—love. Pure, unadulterated love.

"You deserve to be happy," she told him, tone just as soft as the gentle smile on her lips. She pressed her palm into his, fingers slipping into the spaces between his own and squeezing. He squeezed back, still staring at her, and wondered if his lungs had forgotten to stop breathing.

[Y/N] leaned in, lips feather-light in how they ghosted over his cheek, and then she was pulling away, and Sirius's heart was doing something weird inside his chest. "I'm happy you're in a better place now."

Sirius couldn't breathe.

He surged forward, capturing his lips in her own, and at that moment both of them knew this was different; it felt different, more than just a press of the lips, more than just a kiss. Sirius pried her lips apart with his own, taking his sweet, gentle time, and it shot sparks across his body like he'd never felt before. They kissed slow like melted honey, tender and thorough and just a little overwhelming, and Sirius was dizzy with it—he felt like he was drowning.

He was drowning, but he loved every second of it.

—

A few months turned into a year, then two, and before anyone knew it, they were graduating. And still, as they left the gates of Hogwarts to venture out into the world waiting for them, Sirius and [Y/N] were still together. It went against everyone's expectations—and truthfully, [Y/N]'s own—but it made her happy, being with him. and she could only hope that she made him just as happy as he did to her.

They moved into a flat of their own in the outskirts of London. It wasn't anything grand, but it was cozy and clean and it only took a few months for the building to become something of a home to both of them.

[Y/N] loved every moment she spent with Sirius. All their shared smiles, their little, subtle moments of intimacy, the fleeting kisses, waking up in the morning with him by her side—everything.

She loved him so much that it hurt.

Three years into their relationship, as she lay in bed with Sirius, their entire bedroom dark and quiet save for both of their rhythmic breathing, she told him.

"I love you," she whispered into the skin of his shoulder. His arm was draped lazily around her, and she was curled up at his side—and everything about it was painfully familiar. The way his chest rose and fell. The way he stroked at her hair. How he shifted down just the tiniest bit to press a kiss to the crown of her head.

She loved Sirius so much that she didn't even realize—or maybe didn't care—that he never said it back.

—

Maybe it was something that was just ingrained into him. There could have been a million other reasons that all pointed to it not being her fault, but still, for the longest time, she believed that it was.

Sirius was seeing someone else, and he wasn't doing a very good job at hiding it.

One of her friends had told her that they'd seen Sirius in Diagon Alley with another woman at his side. [Y/N] had been angry, but not at Sirius—no, she'd lashed out at her friend, calling her a liar, saying that Sirius would never do something like that.

It's bizarre, the things you do for love. how much you hurt yourself in the process.

Only a week later, she found a letter tucked into the pocket of one of Sirius's coats. It was addressed to a name she did not recognize, and written underneath it were sweet, sweet words that [Y/N] could remember Sirius telling her once or twice before.

you make it hard for me to breathe

everything about you drives me absolutely mad

meet me tomorrow night at the leaky cauldron and

[Y/N] stopped reading. Her hands were shaking too badly; the letter fell from her hands and onto the floor. There was bile rising in the back of her throat.

Her knees went weak underneath her. She leaned on the bed for support—the same bed they'd laid in just this morning, the same bed he'd murmured the very same things written in that blasted letter—

"Oh, God." She let out a ragged, broken sound, hands clutching at her own chest as though it would help ease the pain. She couldn't breathe. "Fuck. Fuck."

[Y/N] didn't know why, but when Sirius came back home that night, claiming that he'd gone over to James and Lily to say hi, she didn't bring up the letter right away.

"How's Lily?" she asked, not looking up from where she sat on the couch, instead pretending that she was invested in a copy of the Witch Weekly magazine in her hands.

"She's doing fabulous," grinned Sirius, shrugging off his coat as he made his way over to her. "Her belly bump's getting a lot more noticeable. James is seconds away from absolutely losing it. He's always frantic—I swear he thinks the baby's going to pop out out of bloody nowhere."

[Y/N]'s senses weren't working properly. She hummed something inaudible in response. A single, painful thought was wafting around her head—a question that she now knew the answer to perfectly well.

Sirius strode over to her, draping his coat over the arm of the couch before moving around the coffee table to sit next to her. He was smiling. "But how was your day, love?" he said, and then he was leaning over, reaching out with one hand to tilt the side of her head towards him—

You're pretending. Always pretending. As soon as he made contact with her skin, she was flinching away, and Sirius knew that something was wrong.

"Is everything alright, doll?" he asked, brows furrowing into a frown of concern. His hand hovered somewhere next to her face, still, fingertips just barely ghosting her cheek.

Before Sirius knew it, [Y/N] was standing up and flinging the daily prophet onto the coffee table. There was something swimming in her eyes that he couldn't quite pinpoint, but he felt something stirring in his gut—something like realization.

Something like guilt.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Doll," he said softly, and to him, it sounded like damnation.

And then [Y/N] said something that made his intestines feel like they were twisting into knots—"I know," [Y/N] said, without looking at Sirius. "I know everything."

Sirius blinked.

His grip on her wrist faltered, hand falling into his lap. There was a moment of thick, heavy silence. The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped by several degrees; Sirius felt cold sweat trickle down the side of temple. The space around him suddenly didn't seem to have enough oxygen.

And yet he let out a choked laugh, if only to quell the storm within his heart. "I don't," he began. His voice was unstable. "I'm not sure what you mean."

She was making her way to the door, but her movements were hesitant, like she didn't quite want to go—or rather, she was unsure where to go. She paused halfway to it, hands curling into fists at her sides.

"Just stop," she said. Resignation etched her voice. She leaned a hand on the wall, back still turned to him as she muttered to herself, sounding as though she'd lived entire countless lifetimes and had had enough, "Stop with the lies, Sirius. I'm done."

Sirius's limbs were getting up of their own accord, approaching her where she stood. But even he knew that he wasn't allowed to have her anymore, not at this moment—not at any moment, not ever—so he halted a few feet away from her, hand reaching out as though he wanted to touch her, gather into his arms and pretend like none of this had ever happened.

That he hadn't done anything wrong. But he did, and now he was paying for it.

When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion and there was undeniable pain in her eyes; “I'm only going to say this once,” she said, the lump in her throat audible. She turned around, meeting his gaze, anyone could tell that she was trying to sound strong—trying to sound like all of this didn't hurt her as much as it really did—but all of her walls were crumbling down on her, and it didn't sound like she'd be able to pick herself back up.

She swallowed with difficulty, blinking rapidly as though to fend off tears. “This is the last time you will ever lie to me again."

She looked up at him. Sirius's breath hitched in his throat. “I’m done,” she spat. “I’m done pretending like I’m okay with all of your crap. I’m fucking done.”

Sirius opened his mouth. There were a hundred explanations resting on the tip of his tongue, but all of them sounded like excuses, and he knew that was the last thing she wanted to hear.

And Sirius was the last person she wants to see.

He watched, with gut-wrenching guilt swimming in the pit of his stomach, as she wiped aggressively at her tears with the back of her hand and sent him a look of the utmost loathing—but Sirius saw right through it. He saw her pain.

Pain he had caused. Pain he knows he still caused.

“I hope you’re fucking happy,” she choked out, meaning to sound angry, but all Sirius heard was pain.

As she slammed the door shut on her way out, Sirius wondered to himself, as his knees buckled and he leaned on the couch for support, if [Y/N] would ever be the same again.

He'd made a mistake; a terrible one. And there was no going back from it now.

—

She did.

That is—she healed. It took her time, of course. Quite a lot of it.

Years passed by in a hazy blur. There were people who grew close to her, people who promised her the same things that she believed in so long ago. That she would be loved by them unconditionally if she just let her walls down and gave herself a chance to try and trust someone again.

It was difficult. She'd loved Sirius as though he were everything in the world that mattered—she had offered him all of her despite knowing that every moment he spent with her was a lie. every kiss, every promise; lies. All of them.

And yet she'd loved him, and when you love someone, you don't care about anything else but them. You don't listen when all of your friends tell you that he isn't good for you, and you don't care when he climbs out of bed in the morning, not quite meeting your gaze when he tells you he's going to visit a friend.

If you love someone, you don't care about all of that.

Or at least you tell yourself that, until you realize that you do. You do care.

[Y/N] realized it far later.

It was that that gave her the strength to walk away from him, despite her heart telling him that it's okay—why should it matter if he doesn't love you back? As long as you love him, it's okay.

It wasn't.

God, it really, really wasn't.

So [Y/N] lived on, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. And it's funny, how pain changes you. At first you think you're never going to be the same again—that you will be heartbroken forever, wallowing in your own self-pity—but the more time passes, the stronger you get. You don't feel it right away.

But one day, many, many years later, when her heart has healed, and she wakes up and realizes that she is loved by people around her and by herself, the way Sirius Black had never done—she realizes:

She is strong. So much stronger than the person she was before.

For the first time in a very long time, when his name wafts back into her head again, she doesn't feel pain.

Instead, the corners of her lips tug up into a small smile.

Here, in front of the window, with the warm sunlight painted across her face, her lashes flutter open.

I'm done pretending.

And now, there is no more pain in her eyes.

There hasn't been for a long time now.

general taglist: @dancing-in-the-moonlight3 @kalimagik @alittletoomanyobsessions @hariosborn @obsessedwithrandomthings @emcchi @sxrensxngwrites @enjoying-fantasyland21 @masterofthedarkness @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @bforbroadway @hufflefluff-writer @summer-writes @chaotic-fae-queen @firewhisky-kisses @dracosvftie @heloisedaphnebrightmore @idont-knowrn @dreamer821 @peachesandpinks @slytherinprincess03 @chocfrogaddict @nebulablakemurphy @kpopgirlbtssvt @lumielikesbooks @teheharrypotter

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mydisasteracademia · 3 years

Text

Random LOV Headcanons

• Repeating something from my book “Did My Time”, due to the damage to Dabi’s body, he needs to use eyedrops multiple times a day. The amount depends on whether or not he uses his Quirk a lot; if he uses it more, he’ll need to practically drown his eyes with special medicated eyedrops to help with the dry-eye.

Adding onto this, due to his body’s natural affinity for the cold, he prefers cold things more than hot, because he has a worse reaction to hot/spicy things compared to other people (just like his mother). Yes, this means I HC him to absolutely never get brain freeze. The others are always jealous of him whenever he chugs a Slurpee in one go.

His burnt, scarred skin is extremely sensitive, especially to scents and scented lotions. He’s found that ointment works to keep things moist, but that also means he needs to be constantly re-applying it every time it dries, given that his Quirk is constantly drying out his skin to the point of damage. Every time his staples tug, even a little, it’s really painful and he’s prone to bleeding.

He does have a bit of a protective instinct, but only over those he deems weaker than him (and let’s be honest, he already has a lot of trouble with his own self-image, so that list might be shorter than you’d think). Definitely has an ‘irritated older sibling to hyperactive younger sibling’ relationship with Toga once they start to get closer. Gets unnecessarily competitive with others he considers stronger than himself, even if he himself doesn’t immediately realize what he’s doing.

Due to his Quirk being dangerous to himself, he can smell off, and he gets very touchy about it. Having grown up in a wealthy family, he can get very insecure at his bedraggled appearance and smell. He literally smells like burnt flesh all the time, and it lingers on his own body and his clothing. Due to this, he always hits up a laundromat to wash his clothes a few times a week, using money he’s picked off of wealthier victims of his. Really lays on the cologne to mask his natural corpse smell (and usually ends up smelling like pine trees, smoke, and something vaguely rotting).

Dabi is incredibly touch-starved, given that most people look at him and recoil in horror. He’s more like a cat, though. If you give him too much attention, he gets annoyed, but if he happens to rest his arm on your head or shoulder, that’s his way of subtly asking for positive attention. Depending on who’s doing it, he won’t immediately shove someone away if they decide to hug him. He’s a bit iffy with touch, and the fear of accidentally hurting someone he’s close to with his own Quirk messes with his head a lot. He can be a bit of an attention whore, given his fucked-up childhood, and when he gets praise it can put him in a good mood for a while. He really internalizes negative attention and can brood about not being good enough for a long time though. Won’t admit it, but he lives for headpats. Please give him headpats. He deserves headpats. Just watch out for the hair dye.

• Shigaraki’s Quirk does affect his body, though not by quickly decaying him like he does other things. Instead it’s more of a ‘slow-burn’ decay, and his constant itching is one side-effect of that. Since his body is constantly breaking down (his scratching gets rid of a lot of dead skin on the surface), his skin is incredibly sensitive and he can’t use most face/skin products because it damages him even more and he reacts horribly to it. So far he hasn’t found a brand that can help with his marred skin. Adding to this, he can’t stand spicy foods because it aggravates his decaying body.

Since his body is in a constant state of death and dying, this means he can smell off on even good days. It could be described as musty or ‘stale’, and since he’s extremely sensitive to scents and lotions/creams, he can’t exactly just use any old cologne to mask it.

Sometimes his throat gets super dry and he chokes on debris from his own mouth and throat. He needs to constantly hydrate to keep things from getting a bit too dusty. This means he prefers wet/moist foods over dry, and if he eats anything dry he’ll have a drink to go with it. At Kurogiri’s insistence, he always has a few bottles of water in his room at a time so he doesn’t have to get up in the night to go to a working sink for a drink.

This boy is so touch-starved. Whenever someone of the League hugs him, he acts huffy about it, but he doesn’t shove them off (unless it’s Dabi giving him a noogie, then he threatens death, much to the taller one’s amusement). He secretly craves touching other people. He’s terrified of accidentally dusting someone he cares about again (his family’s deaths haunt his dreams more nights than not), but if someone hugs him he just kind of melts into it. Someone please hug this boy. He needs headpats and positive reinforcement.

• Spinner absolutely loves sunning himself on rocks during summer. Whenever the weather is hot and it’s sunny, if he has a day off you’ll find him chilling outside on a rock just soaking up the sun.

Adding onto this, he really loves humid, hot weather. While the rest of the League (especially Dabi) is suffering, he’s just vibing with the weather.

And he sheds. Usually a few times a year, but it’s not uncommon to see large swaths of translucent white patches left behind. This can annoy the League, but to his credit, Spinner tries to keep it on the down-low. More than once he’s tried inconspicuously rubbing his arm or cheek against Shigaraki to try and help get the dead skin off. (He gets really irritated, but it helps with the itching a bit, so he doesn’t really complain unless he’s trying to concentrate on something.)

• Compress will casually swipe up random items that the League leaves around and later might give them back depending on what it is. The other members can get varying levels of annoyed at this, but they don’t get too beat up about it considering Compress’s Quirk and personality. (This is how Toga lost her favorite lip gloss. She didn’t stop pouting for a week until Twice bought her another one.)

When he gets anxious or bored, he often resorts to simple hand tricks to keep himself entertained: fiddling around with his marbles, practicing simple card tricks, or practicing magic.

• Toga loves horror. Almost any horror. Especially guro. During movie nights with the League, as long as the movie has some form of mutilation and/or blood, she’s giving it her full attention. Adding to this, she really loves anything written by Junji Ito and has read Tomie about twenty times. Despite this, she has a soft spot for cutesy things and her aesthetic is Gurokawa. She definitely has a Gloomy Bear plush or two.

She definitely has a fondness for beauty products, given that she’s still just a normal girl despite her Quirk. This fact can make her really insecure, and she’s prone to depressive episodes just like anyone else in the League where she does herself up real pretty just to try and feel more ‘in tune’ with her femininity and less like the monster her parents saw her as. Magne helped with this a lot in the past, but now that she’s gone she relies more on the others to help cheer her up.

She is not above forcing the other League members into spa days. Shigaraki is the only one who doesn’t have to get a facial, though she does insist on painting his nails and doing his hair.

• Kurogiri’s mist/fog can get blown away quicker than he can create more, but only by a very strong wind. It’s hilarious. Shigaraki can’t stop teasing him for it.

Is not above using his Quirk to forcefully separate two squabbling parties, especially in the bar hideout.

When he’s bored, he does bar tricks, much to Toga’s delight.

Since quite a few League members are under drinking age, he always makes sure to have sparkling cider on hand.

He carries snacks and a first-aid kit every time the League goes out on a mission -- especially when it’s Shigaraki heading out. He really does care for the man and will be the first to hand him ointment whenever his skin gets really crumbly or damaged.

Has come to reluctantly see the League as people he worries for. That’s the closest to “hm yes these are my children now I must protect” that you’ll get.

He misses Magne for how sensible she could be. He appreciates Compress’s overall chill vibe and his being the voice of reason among their little group of mass murderers.

• Kurogiri and Magne were the League’s parental figures. You can’t fight me on this. (Kurogiri reluctantly, Magne enthusiastically.) Compress was more like the outgoing uncle that has a sense of humor nobody can really understand at first and was definitely a theater major in college.

• Shigaraki and Dabi love chicken nuggets. Every time someone brings home fast food, you can bet your ass they’ll have ordered like a fifty-piece chicken nugget meal from wherever sells that. Constantly have to deal with each other trying to swipe the other’s nuggets when they finish their own.

• Twice loves Vine compilations and can recite a worrying number of them from memory. He gets a kick out of the “A Bagel, Two Bagels” one for how much he relates to it.

• Before she died, Magne loved when Toga begged her to help her with makeup. It helped with her dysphoria when Toga would doll her up.

She loved window-shopping and imagining herself wearing some of the stylish clothes in shop windows.

Despite her cruel persona towards her enemies, Magne had a soft spot for elegant-cute things, kinda like Toga but a little less bloody.

• Muscular always challenges the other League members to arm-wrestling when he’s around. He always wins. The others have learnt not to accept his challenges, lest they want bruises/sprains.

• Mustard is very childish in his tastes. He loves chicken nuggets and mac n’ cheese. Provokes people by pulling his lower eyelid down and sticking his tongue at them. I can definitely imagine him muttering “Eat my shorts” or “Don’t have a cow, man” whenever another member is angry about something.

• In this household we pretend that Moonfish does not exist.

• If the League had Switches, you bet your ass they play Animal Crossing on them.

Toga would go for a ‘Aika Village’ aesthetic, all gloomy and creepy but with an undeniably cute element to it. Definitely wears pastels and gothic-themed clothing.

Shigaraki models his after his favorite RPG and hunts down NPCs that fit the personalities of the various characters. His favorite characters tend to be dogs. Will not hesitate to kick out any animal who fails his ‘vibe check’. Surprisingly, this game can calm him down almost as well as an RPG. Joycon drift is the bane of his existence.

Compress uses only the most glamorous, expensive items on his island. Outright refuses to use dirt paths. Uses only Snooty villagers.

Dabi wants his island to look the best and is uncharacteristically stern about how his island looks. Everything is very neat and streamlined (and he has an outdoor gym near his player’s home). Will physically fight anyone who tries to ruin it by littering or messing around on it. He has a rivalry with Compress about whose island looks the best.

Spinner doesn’t really care about how his island looks. He just wants to max out his encyclopedias. Shigaraki once caught him up at 3 AM because he was trying to catch a spider crab.

Kurogiri doesn’t play it that often, so his island is fairly undeveloped. Doesn’t really care about it, considering his responsibilities to the League overpower a video game.

Muscular doesn’t care about it at all and doesn’t play.

Mustard made his island look like something out of Harvest Moon or Stardew Valley; a town area, a forest, and even a beach.

#lov headcanons #league of villains

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onedivinemisfit · 3 years

Photo

During my recovery, this has been my biggest project, no kidding. I looked but couldn’t find Obi’s witcher!AU body template so I sketched some Bruxa!yuki designs instead. <w< I’ll finalize and colour them when I’m well, or so I hope, unless I forget XD

Pls forgive any mistakes I’m not 100% yet. ^^;

Explanations below the cut~

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata Witcher (c) Andrzej Sapkowski TW3 models (c) CDPR Art: Me

Disclaimer: I am not a tailor and as such all my opinions are based on preference and evt pushing rules in my favour XD

The main idea with her wardrobe was to underline that whatever she’s doing, Shirayuki is feminine, and wants to present feminine, hence the skirts and ribbons and embroidery. She’s also a person fond of utility, so belts, pockets, and layers that can be added or removed as she fancied, was also an important facet to add. But she’s also bruxae, monster species, so she’s got a few blind spots, so to speak, regarding what is and isn’t proper to wear in human society. But most of all, her clothes make it easy for her to use her bruxa powers to move around swiftly, silently, and with purpose

Around half of these were referenced from the witcher 3 game, with me picking my favourite garb, and what made more sense for her in different situations.

1. Huntress Outfit - this one I made myself, using only some of the basic wardrobe notes from tw3. I’ve a softness for overdresses/kaftans with splits, especially if they’re combined with tights/buckskins. Shirayuki is a poor bruxa living in the woods outside a small human settlement, so she doesn’t have access to a tailor other than on market day, or when peddlers arrive, hence she often has to redesign old/too-small clothing for new purposes. Another point was to reinforce her sleeves, to make it easier to brush away branches and undergrowth, and adding the Skelligan waist shawl, a gift from her half-sister, as recurring themes.

2. Winter Outfit - another I made myself, because I was dying to design something that included a sheepskin jerkin. The waist shawl helps redefine the jerkin and give it a feminine twist, and the wrapped sleeves both reduce noise and keeps her cuffs from leaking precious warmth. The wool tunic could have been a dress, but I wanted to focus on showing off her fur-tucked winter boots and knitted long socks. Shirayuki probably knitted them herself.

3. High Summer Outfit - another self-made design. Made so as to underline her non-humanness, borrowing heavily from witcher elven aesthetics, with lots of exposed skin, crossed fabric, and asymmetrical cuts. This is what she wears when the weather *won’t* allow you to dress decently or you get purged by the sun, basically. Again, since Shirayuki’s often short of fabric, a lot of refashioning going on.

4. Commoner Outfit - A very basic woman’s dress, very presentable, very respectable, especially since Shirayuki is trying to sell the lie that she’s a normal human woman. It’s her go-to outfit for visiting human settlements, or for performing simple chores around the house, such as cooking, sewing, or spinning. Things that keep her in or around her homestead, and not gallivanting in the woods at midnight looking for prey.

5. Relaxing Outfit - merely a dusty day dress pulled over her nightgown, for those chilly nights where Shirayuki doesn’t want to undress for bed until she’s halfway under the covers. When the chores are done and all that’s left to do is sip a cup of blood, read a book beside the hearth and wait for Ryuu to return from his late night wandering, she likes to shed all those layers and relax.

6. Throw-together Outfit - referenced from the game, almost entirely (Keira Metz’ witch model) - save the shoes and headband. After the loss of her home and her more presentable clothing thanks to witcher Obi (who will later admit that yes he does in fact owe her a new dress... and blouse... and apron...) this outfit was assembled through raiding an abandoned witch’s hut. Anything that could suffice as clothing, basically, even the old curtains. Shirayuki doesn’t personally care that some of her *assets* are pretty much on display, but she would like some linen anyway, the cotton does chafe a bit. Aside from the pearl necklace, nothing she’s wearing actually belonged to her in the first place.

7. Formal Commoner Outfit - reffed from the game, (Keira Metz’ second model) the shoes being the sole exception. A dress for special occassions, perhaps May Day, Equinox celebrations, etc. Not that Shirayuki often dared participate in such events, due to the amount of people who show up even in small villages to throw tankards together and dance around bonfires. But she does pilfer the dress from the abandoned witch’s hut anyway, thinking maybe, afterall, since it’s so pretty and it had matching sleeves to go with it... keeping it wasn’t such a dumb idea.

8. Pants Outfit - reffed from the game (juggler npc) A cross between a traveler and a city dweller, a light-weight yet very elegant outfit for strolling in the human cities. The top is presentable enough that she doesn’t look poor as a pauper, while the pants give the impression of someone on the move, a stranger. It also provides the most comfortable riding experience, the few times she does ride, as she has no need for a lady’s saddle.

9. High-Class Outfit - reffed from the game/one of my favourite tw3 modders, (New Sorceress models by Roksa) I only added the shoes and circlet. When Zen has the dress made for her, it is by FAR the most expensive thing she’s ever worn. Not a single thread of the dress isn’t well-made, the dyes are the brightest and most even-coloured, and the silk is light as a touch on her skin. While the dress itself is a demure, feminine dream, what sets the ensemble apart are the dark cat’s eye gems, just hinting at Shirayuki’s darker secrets. They’re set in gold, for obvious, unspoken reasons, as she reacts to silver much like being set on fire...

10. Evening Outfit - reffed from the game, I just changed the necklace (Ida Eméan’s Gwent card art) another very expensive dress, but surprisingly one that Shirayuki tolerates better. No stiff, itchy velvet, no heavy damask, just sheer silk with gold thread (again for reasons obvious to a bruxa) some simple sleeves, and a chain of stones, no gilded jewellry that could empty a bank vault if sold to the right people. She probably takes a fancy to this dress while attempting to woo a certain witcher, which explains the understated beauty, the most daring of cuts, one that screams “look at me, only me” and the simple-at-a-glance design. Much like Shirayuki herself.

11. Skellige Outfit - inspired by the viking-esque game design for Skellige fashion, this dress is for when Shirayuki and her family stay in the Isles, following her sister’s suggestion. A dress that signifies the matron head of a household with its pewter clasps and apron, follows Skellige fashion demanding you wear a shawl with your clan colors (Shirayuki, although clan-less, was given one by Torou) and layers. And armguards. And a split overdress. To show that this is Shirayuki’s choice wear afterall.

#akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #shirayuki #witcher!au #in which shirayuki is a bruxa #a sort of all-female vampire #and obi is the witcher #listen I have only been able to sketch so it was only a matter of time before I fell down into the rabbit hole of outfit designs again XD #let's hope I remember to render them later lolol #myart #I also tried to hint to time passing between her outfits #by using different hairstyles #idk if it worked ahahaha

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starculler · 3 years

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Based this on the cool ROTS concept art where Padmé goes to Mustafar intending to kill Anakin and some good old Padmé Lives AU goodness. @flashfictionfridayofficial

Padmé’s hands clenched around the smooth, stone banister — cold and rough under her palms — and stared at the still, star-studded stretch of lake Varykino’s terrace overlooked. Her eyes burned as she soaked in the beauty this small part of her home planet had to offer, but there were no more tears left to shed. There was only the hollow ache left behind her ribs, a staggering pain to rival the vivid, throbbing, blue-black bruises around her throat. The last gift her husband had left her.

She sighed, breathed in, and tried to imagine the taste of Naboo’s sweet, summer air instead of the thick coat of ash that had laid on her tongue since Mustafar. Her fingers curled around the bannister’s stone edge, already ruined nails grating on the texture even as she felt them wrapped around the hilt of the knife she’d held to her husband’s throat. The moment was clear as a holo, imprinted on the backs of her eyelids for her to see every time she’d closed her eyes since waking those few, too-long days ago.

Her arms around Anakin’s neck, pulling him down into a hug she’d shared with him a thousand times before. The sleeves of her red robe bunched around her elbows, its hood tugging at her loose hair as it fell back enough that she could see his face clearly. His thinned lips and a too-familiar pinch in his brow, sweaty and pale with too-dark rings under his eyes. He’d pulled her close, his hands finding the curve of her waist even through the voluminous fabric, and she’d curled her fingers into his curls with one hand as the other slipped the knife free. Anakin’s eyes had always been such a beautiful, bright blue, even shadowed and haunted and lit with the glow of Mustafar’s churning flows of bubbling lava.

“My lady.” Padmé blinked, dragged out of the memory by Sabé’s quiet voice, and turned to find her last handmaiden standing in the shadow of an elegantly carved column. “The preparations are complete.”

“They’re—” Padmé started only to choke on the words, but Sabé nodded regardless.

“They’re safe,” Sabé said, so softly that Padmé had to step closer to hear her better. “There’s been no reason to suspect they’ve been found or followed,” she added and Padmé could have collapsed from relief.

“Good. That’s good.”

It burned to be separated from her children no matter how much she’d agreed with Obi-Wan and Bail that keeping them together — keeping them with her — was dangerous. She breathed in, ignoring the slight hitch in an otherwise smooth breath, and curled her hands into tight fists on the exhale. When her eyes met Sabé’s again, there hadn’t been any need for her to so much as open her mouth to ask her next question.

“Your funeral went as well as a televised, closed-casket event could. You’ve been laid to rest in Theed with a simple, but elegant memorial to mark your tomb, and your former handmaidens have, respectfully, secluded themselves to mourn you.”

“How are they taking it?” Padmé asked, unable to resist, and felt the guilt rise like bile in her aching throat when Sabé winced.

“They—” she started, stopped, and Padmé watched Sabé clasp her hands together in front of her to keep her hands from shaking. Silence settled thick between them, heavy and uncomfortable, until Sabé settled on a shaky “They’ll understand. Less so, however,” she added, forcefully lightening her tone, “if you’re caught here.”

Padmé swallowed, stomach churning, and nodded. She let her eyes slide closed once more — watched herself hesitate on Mustafar, the knife’s edge pressing on her husband’s throat, knowing as she’d looked in his eyes that she didn’t have the strength to kill him — and breathed in, long and slow. When she opened them, there was only Naboo, Sabé, and the faint impression of the many small moments she’d stolen there with the people she loved.

“Give Captain Typho my thanks,” she said as she strode forward, Sabé falling neatly into step just behind and to her left. “He didn’t have to do this. Any of it.” She turned her head enough to meet Sabé’s eyes, shoving every ounce of gratitude she could muster at her. “Neither of you did.”

Sabé’s lips curled up in the small, familiar smile she always wore to express her fond exasperation, though it was marred now by the worried furrow in her brow and the uncharacteristic shadows under her eyes. She didn’t dignify Padmé’s sentiment with a response beyond a nod and a roll of her eyes that made Padmé wish she’d had the energy left in her to laugh. To pretend, for one moment, that this was just one of many a stroll the pair had taken through the villa.

The time for such silly sentiments, however, was long passed, and the pair wasted no time hurrying through the dark, unlit halls to the hangar with only Sabé’s lamp to light the way. The hangar, when they arrived, was lit with only a few stray lights and empty save for a pair of spare speeders and the single, old ship meant to smuggle Padmé and its pilot off-planet.

Sabé walked her to its ramp, both hesitating to take the final step that would, possibly permanently, separate them. There was so much still that Padmé wanted to say, but every word died on her lips — none of them enough. She managed only a watery “Be safe” when Sabé sprang forward to wrap her in a tight, clinging hug.

“I should be telling you that,” Sabé said, laughing even as a few stray tears wet Padmé’s shoulder.

“Sabé, I—” Padmé stopped, frowned, and pulled away just far enough to meet her former handmaiden’s eyes. “I have one more favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Padmé closed her eyes, saw her husband and the burning landscape and the footage of the Temple no-one knew she’d managed to get her hands on after everything was done and her children were gone and all she’d had between then and now was time. When she opened her eyes, when she made her request, it was every inch Amidala — Queen and Senator — who spoke.

“Burn it,” she said, voice even and smooth even as the shift in tone startled Sabé. “When” — not if, because monster or not, she knew her husband almost better than she knew herself — “he comes, burn this place to the ground.”

#padme amidala #padme lives au #sw rots #star wars #flash fiction friday #fff103 #my fanfic #this is def an idea i'd play around with more #it's interesting to me and i just love padme soooo

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libidomechanica · 6 months

Text

Paint the speed

Rub all out! He praise of elegant’ et caetera, in fact, except

some chaste reader! And down I went. For from their summer’s breathing in a

petticoat; pity he lover,—shadow’d my milk with despite, and shed

these kissing and wade mouth-deep into love you because you style me some

marvelous experienced few; and fall before the general best. We

are mended, or what he turned nest beneath, all Calderon and wine much

what life a thing to discloses: but, for the striped white have I to do

with Athos. From her exceeding of heavenly harmony to retort;

I have squander’d much lesse gayne: o what sweet is every soul. Come, which

never told me by my side; the curse or kick him for the whole business.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #149 texts #treochair

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watch-grok-brainrot · 4 years

Text

MDZS Novel Translation: Lotus Pod Extra Part 1 (English Only)

So... a while back, I causally mentioned to @merelhyn that i wanted to translate something just to see how I liked it. She asked me if i had something in mind. When I told her no, she basically jumped on this and said I should translate this. Had it not be over the interwebs, she would’ve waved giant rainbow neon flags and signs to guide me towards this. So... yeah. If you like it, thank her. Also, she did a once-over for me and caught some mistakes. so thank her for that too! ^_^

I’ll also be posting the version of the document with the chinese and my commentary as a separate post... because i think that’s probably more valuable/interesting to see where my brain was and where this amateur translator is probably failing?

[edit: the rambling commentary version should be linked in the comments]

Anyway, without further ado...

Yunmeng Lotus Pier.

Outside ShiJianTang (Sword Testing Hall) were the summer cicadas’ noisy calls; inside ShiJianTang was the unbearable sight of bodies strewn across the ground.

Over a dozen youths with bare chests stuck themselves onto ShiJianTang’s hardwood floor, periodically flipping themselves over, as if they were over a dozen sizzling JianBing (Fried Bread), letting out mutterings of the dying.

“Hot……”

“Dead…… ”

Wei Wuxian thought blearily to himself with barely open eyes, “If only it could be as cool here as it is in Cloud Recesses.”

The hardwood flooring under him was once again warmed by his body heat, so he flipped over. Coincidentally, Jiang Cheng also flipped over, the two brushed against each other, arm and leg making contact. Wei Wuxian immediately said, “Jiang Cheng, move your arm, you’re as hot as a coal.”

Jiang Cheng said, “You move your leg.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Arms are lighter than legs, me moving my leg takes more effort. It’s better for you to move your arm.”

Jiang Cheng became angry: “Wei Wuxian, I’m warning you to not go overboard. Shut your mouth and don’t speak. The more you talk, the hotter it gets!”

Sixth-shidi (younger male disciple) said: “Can you two not argue? Just listening to you argue makes me hotter. I’m sweating even more now.”

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian already started fighting -- a palm strike here, a kick there: “Hurry up and piss off!” “You piss off!” “No no no, please, piss off!” “Don’t be so polite, you piss off first.”

All the younger disciples complained in unison: “Take the fight outside!” “You two can both go piss off. We’re begging you!”

Wei Wuxian said, “Did you hear that, everyone is asking you to leave. You… let go of my leg, it’s going to break, Da-ge!”

A vein on Jiang Cheng’s forehead popped up. “Clearly they’re telling you to leave…. Let go of my arm first!”

At this time, from the wooden corridor outside came the sound of a skirt rustling over the floor. The two immediately parted like lightning. Soon, the bamboo curtains parted, Jiang Yanli stuck her head in, glanced around, and said, “Aah, so you’re all hiding here.”

Everyone said in unison: “Shijie!” “Hi Shijie!” The ones who became embarrassed easily couldn't help but cross their arms over their chests and hide into a corner.

Jian Yanli asked: “Why are you all being lazy today and not practicing your swords?”

Wei Wuxian complained, “Such a treacherous day, the sun shining over the practice grounds would kill us, practicing swords would make us shed a layer of skin. Shijie, don’t tell other people.”

Jiang Yanli carefully assessed him and Jiang Cheng and asked, “Did you two get into another fight?”

Wei Wuxian said, “We didn’t!”

Jiang Yanli stepped into the room carrying a plate and asked, “Then who kicked the footprint onto A-Cheng’s chest?”

Wei Wuxian, upon hearing he left evidence, turned to look -- it was really there. But no one cared whether the two of them fought anymore for Jiang Yanli had brought a large plate of watermelon slices. The group of youths swarmed in, quickly divided the melon between them, and sat down on the floor to gnaw on the melon. Not long later, the melon rinds piled into a small hill on the plate.

No matter what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng did, they would end up competing. Eating watermelon was no exception. Slashing to seize the melon -- an endless volley of moves between the two made others hurry to avoid them and scramble out of the way, leaving an empty space. At first, Wei Wuxian was wholeheartedly eating watermelon, but as he ate, a chuckle suddenly burst from his lips.

Jiang Cheng asked suspiciously: “What are you thinking about doing now?”

Wei Wuxian grabbed another piece of melon and said: “Nothing! Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t think about doing something, I just thought of a person.”

Jiang Cheng asked: “Who?”

Wei Wuxian said: “Lan Zhan”

Jiang Cheng asked: “Why are you thinking about him? Do you miss the feeling of being forced to copy lines as punishment?”

Wei Wuxian spat out some seeds and said, “I’m thinking about how much fun he is. You have know idea, he’s so interesting. I said to him, your family’s food is not delicious at all, I would rather eat sauteed watermelon rind than eat your family’s food, you should come visit Lotus Pier when you have time…... ”

Before the sound of Wei Wuxian’s words ended, Jiang Cheng slapped his watermelon askew: “You’re crazy inviting him to Lotus Pier, are you trying to make yourself suffer?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Why are you so anxious, my melon almost went flying! I was just saying that. Obviously he would not come. When have you ever heard of him going somewhere on his own for fun?”

Jiang Cheng spoke sternly, with a sense of righteousness, “Just so we’re clear: I will refuse his visit no matter what, don’t invite him willy nilly.”

Wei Wuxian said, “I couldn’t tell you dislike him so!”

Jiang Cheng responded: “I don’t have an issue with Lan Wangji, but if he were to really come, my mother might have something to say about other people’s children, and then you wouldn’t have a good time.”

Wei Wuxian said, “No biggie, even if he showed up, I’m not scared. IF he really came, you can just tell Uncle Jiang to let him sleep in my room. I promise I’ll drive him insane in less than a week. ”

Jiang Cheng snorted, “You want him to stay with you for a month? I think he’ll stab you to death in less than seven days.”

Wei Wuxian retorted, “Who’s scared of him? If we really fight it’s not certain he would be an even match for me!”

Everyone cheered and hollered at Wei Wuxian’s statement. Jiang Cheng sneered at Wei Wuxian’s thick skin but in his heart, he knew Wei Wuxian’s words were true and not mere boasts. Jiang Yanli sat between and asked, “Who are you talking about? Is it a friend you made at Gusu?”

Wei Wuxian said happily, “It is!”

Jiang Cheng said, “You claim ‘friend’ so easily. You should go ask Lan Wangji, see if he is willing to claim you.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Piss off. If he doesn’t want me, I’ll just cling to him. See if he’s willing or not in the end.” Wei Wuxian then turns to Jiang Yanli, “Shijie, do you know of Lan Wangji?”

Jiang Yanli said, “I do know of him. Isn’t he the young second young master of Lan that everyone says is very handsome and very talented? Is he really so handsome?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Very handsome!”

Jiang Yanli asked, “Compared to you?”

Wei Wuxian pondered for a bit before saying, “Maybe the tiniest bit more handsome than me.”

He held up two fingers separated by the slightest amount. Jiang Yanli smiled as she gathered the plate, “Looks like he must really be handsome. Making new friends is a good thing. When you have time in the future, the two of you can visit each other for fun.”

Hearing that, Jiang Cheng spat out his melon. Wei Wuxian waved his hands defensively in front of his face, “No, no. Their home has disgusting food and too many rules. I don’t want to go there”

Jiang Yanli said, “Then you can bring him here. This time was a good opportunity, why didn’t you invite your friend to Lotus Pier to stay with us for a while?”

Jiang Cheng said, “A-jie, don’t listen to his nonsense. At Gusu he was really detested. How could Lan Wangji be willing to come back with him?”

Wei Wuxian said, “What are you saying! He’s willing.”

Jiang Cheng said, “Wake up. Lan Wangji told you to get lost, did you not hear? Remember?”

Wei Wuxian said, “What do you know! Even though on the surface he told me to get lost, but I know, in his heart, he must have really wished to come visit Yunmeng with me. He must want it a lot.”

Jiang Cheng said, “I think about a question every day: from where do you get so much self confidence?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Don’t think about it. You’ve been asking the same question for years without an answer. If it were me, I would have given up a long time ago.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head and was about to throw his melon, when suddenly there was the sound of overbearing and fast footsteps. A chilling female voice drifted in from the distance: “I was wondering where everyone hid to, I just knew...”

The color drained from all the youths’ faces. They scrambled to leave through the curtains, coincidentally catching Madam Yu turning the corner of the corridor. Her purple clothing fluttered freely but her intimidating aura and blazing eyes were truly terrifying. When she saw the group of youths all bare armed and bare footed -- improper and unsightly -- Madam Yu’s face twitched for quite a while. Furthermore, her two elegant eyebrows rose to the point of almost flying.

Everyone thought “This is bad!”, horrified, they ran. Seeing this, Madam Yu finally came out of her stupor. She was livid. “Jiang Cheng! Put on your clothes! You’re as naked as a wild man! What sort of shit appearance is that? If other people were to see, where would I put my face?”

Jiang Cheng’s clothing was tucked around his waist. Hearing his mother’s reprimand, he quickly covered himself. Madam Yu added angrily, “You guys! A-li is here, did you not see? A group of damn boys stripped bare in front of a girl! Who taught you to do this?!”

Of course, it was without question who was the leader. Thus Madam Yu’s next sentence was, per usual: “Wei Ying! Do you want to die?”

Wei Wuxian said loudly, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know Shijie would come! I will go look for clothing now!”

Madam Yu became even more angry. “You dare run away? Bring your ass back here and kneel!” With those words, her whip flew out. Wei Wuxian felt a searing pain on his back and screamed, almost falling and rolling on the ground. Suddenly someone said faintly by Madam Yu’s year, “A-niang, do you want to eat watermelon...”

Madam Yu was started by Jiang Yanli appearing out of nowhere. The slight interruption allowed the group of rascals to disappear without a trace. Madam Yu angrily turned toward Jiang Yanli and pinched her cheek saying, “Eat. Eat. Eat. All you know is eat.”

Jiang Yanli was pinched so hard by her mother that tears trickled out. She mumbled, “A-niang, A-xian and the others hid here from the heat. I came here on my own looking for them. Don’t blame them. Do… Do you want to eat watermelon? I don't know who sent it to us, but it’s very sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer dispels heat and decreases your inner fire. It’s sweet and juicy. I can cut it for you...”

The more Madam Yu stewed, the angrier she became. The summer heat caused her to be thirsty which made her actually want to eat the watermelon. As such, she became even angrier.

The group of people escaped Lotus Pier with great difficulty, charged towards the docks, and jumped onto a small boat. When, even after a bit, no one chased them, Wei Wuxian relaxed. He rowed the boat a couple times and felt his back was still hurting. Handing the oar to someone else, he sat down to touch the stinging flesh. “I’ve been wronged in broad daylight. Let’s talk about this logically. Clearly no one was clothed, but why am I the only one to get reprimanded? Why am I the only one to get hit?”

Jiang Cheng said, “It’s definitely because the way you look while not wearing clothing burns people’s eyes the most.”

Wei Wuxian glanced at him and suddenly sprang up and plunged into the water. Everyone else, seemingly responding to a signal, also entered the water. In a flash, only Jiang Cheng remained on the boat.

Jiang Cheng noticed the suspicious situation and said, “What are you trying to pull?!”

Wei Wuxian swam up to the side of the boat and unleashed a sharp palm strike. The boat capsized: hull towards the sky and bobbing up and down in the water with vigor. Wei Wuxian laughed heartily, jumped onto the bottom of the boat, and sat down in a lotus position. He yelled towards the water on the side of the boat where Jiang Cheng fell in, “Are your eyes still burning, Jiang Cheng? Give a response! Hey! Hey!”

After yelling twice and getting no response except for a string of gurgling bubbles, Wei Wuxian wiped his face and wondered, “How come he hasn’t popped up after all this time?”

Sixth-shidi also swam over and exclaimed, “He can’t have drowned, can he?”

Wei Wuxian said, “How could he?” He was about to jump into the water to drag Jiang Cheng out when he suddenly heard a loud cry from behind. Wei Wuxian yelped as he was shoved into the water. The boat, dripping wet, was flipped right side up. Turns out, after Wei Wuxian flipped Jiang Cheng into the water, Jiang Cheng swam underwater around the boat and ended up behind Wei Wuxian.

After the two of them each successfully landed a sneak attack, they started cautiously circling the boat. The others splashed and treaded water as they spread out over the lake to watch. Wei Wuxian hollered from the other side of the boat, “Why are you holding a weapon? If you’re skilled, put the oar down and we can fight hand-to-hand.”

Jiang Cheng smirked, “Do you take me for an idiot? As soon as I put it down, you’ll take it!” He wielded the oar with unrelenting ferocity, forcing Wei Wuxian back. All the younger disciples cheered. Wei Wuxian found himself helpless as he dodged left and right. In his frenzy, he made time to plead his innocence, “I am not that shameless!”

From all sides came the hissing response, “Da-shixiong, do you really have enough face to say such a thing?”

Afterwards, everyone became involved in a chaotic water fight. Vicious attacks were used without hesitation. Finally, Wei Wuxian kicked Jiang Cheng and with great effort flopped onto the boat. He spat out a mouthful of lake water, raised his hands and said, “No more fighting. No more fighting! Truce! ”

Everyone’s heads were covered in bright green water weeds. They were fighting to their heart’s content! Thus, they retorted, “Why should we stop? Fight! Fight! Are you begging for mercy because you’re losing?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Who said I’m begging for mercy? We can have another fight later. I’m hungry and don’t have energy for fighting anymore. Let’s get something to eat first.”

Sixth-shidi said, “Are we going back then? We can have a few watermelons before dinner starts.”

Jiang Cheng said, “If we go back now, the only thing we’ll get to have is a whipping.”

Wei Wuxian was ready with a plan. He announced, “We’re not going back! We’re going to go pick lotus pods!”

Jiang Cheng said mockinly, “You meant ‘steal’, right?”

Wei Wuxian said, “It’s not like they don’t get paid later.”

Yunmeng Jiang Sect often watched over the local people, removing water ghouls without asking for anything in return. Within a radius of several tens of lis, the people were happy to let them pick a few lotus pods. In fact, the people would be perfectly happy to designate a section of the lake to grow lotus just for them. Everytime the youths were out and ate people’s melons, caught people’s chickens, drugged people’s dogs, Jiang Fengmian would send someone later to pay the people. As to why they were determined to steal, it wasn’t because they were scoundrels but because they craved the fun experience of someone chasing them and hitting them while laughing and yelling.

Everyone got on the boat, rowed for a while, and ended up by a stretch of lake full of lotus.

What a large stretch of lotus filled lake -- green and fresh! The verdant foliage layered and stacked on top of eachother, some as small as plates and others as large as umbrellas. The ones on the outskirts sat lower in the water and were more sparse, carpeting on the surface of the water. The ones on the inside stood taller and packed tightly together, sufficient to hide a boat carrying people. If one were to see a cluster of lily pads rustling and shaking, then they would know someone was mischievously hiding within.

The small boat from Lotus Pier glided into that verdant world. All around them hung large green lotus pods, round and full. One person rowed the boat and the rest started on the lotus pods. The large lotus heads grew on long, thin stems. The smooth lotus stems were covered with tiny thorns that did not sting. Bending the stems, they snapped with a crisp sound. The boys all broke off the pods with a large segment of stems attached. Once they took the pods home, they would find a vase and stick the pods in water. They heard it would preserve the pods’ freshness for a few more days. Wei Wuxian only heard it would work but didn’t know for sure, but he told the others with confidence anyway.

He broke off a few stems and reflexively removed the lotus seeds out of one. The seeds were full and round. When he popped them in his mouth, they were tender and juicy. As he ate, he started mindlessly humming and singing, “I treat you to eat lotus pods, what will you treat me to eat?” Jiang Cheng heard his singing and asked, “Who are you treating to eat things?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Haha, no matter what it’s not you!” He was about to smack Jiang Cheng’s face with the lotus pod but suddenly made a shushing noise and said, “We’re gonna die. The old man is here today!”

The old man was the old farmer who grew lotus pods in that stretch of water. How old was he, Wei Wuxian didn’t know. From Wei Wuxian’s perspective, Jiang Fengmian was an uncle. Anyone older than Jiang Fengmian could be referred to as an old man. Since Wei Wuxian could remember, he was around this stretch of lotus pond. In the summer, when Wei Wuxian came to steal lotus pods, if he was caught, he would be beaten. Wei Wuxian often suspected the old man was a reincarnated lotus pod spirit because he knew exactly how many lotus pods were missing from his family’s lake. He would beat you once for each missing lotus pod. A bamboo pole was the best tool for maneuvering a boat in a lotus lake. Thump thump thump! The bamboo pole was also exceptionally painful for the people getting hit.

All the youths have experienced a few strikes of the bamboo pole. They all hissed at each other: “Run! Hurry and run!” They grabbed the oars and fled. After they frantically rowed out of the lotus pond, they turned around to look guiltily behind them. The old man’s boat had already exited the thick layers of lily pads and was gliding upon the open waters. Wei Wuxian tilted his head, stared for a bit, and suddenly said, “Weird!”

Jiang Cheng also stood up and said. “Why is that boat moving so quickly?”

Everyone looked over at the old man. His back was turned towards them and was counting the lotus pods on his boat. The bamboo pole was set aside, untouched. The boat, however, moved steadily and swiftly, even faster than the boat with Wei Wuxian and company.

Everyone became cautious. Wei Wuxian urged, “Row over there, row over there.”

The two boats moved close and everyone could clearly see a faint white shadow floating and swimming under the water by the old man’s boat.

Wei Wuxian turned around, his finger against his lip, warning everyone to be careful -- do not startle the old man and the water ghoul under his boat. Jiang Cheng nodded and rowed the boat. The ripples he generated were nearly silent with almost no commotion. When the two boats were about three zhang apart, a wet and dripping pale green hand reached up from beneath the boat. Surreptitiously, the hand took a lotus pod from the old man’s full boat and silently resubmerged itself into the water.

A few moments later, two lotus seed shells floated to the surface of the water.

The group of youths was astounded. “Wow! This water ghoul also steals lotus pods!”

The old man finally noticed someone was behind him. He held a large lotus pod and one hand and turned around while grabbing the bamboo pole with the other. The motion started the water ghoul which slithered away. The white shadow disappeared. Everyone quickly hollered, “Where are you going?”

Wei Wuxian plopped into the water and dropped into the depths. Soon, he resurfaced dragging something. “Caught it!”

In his hand, there was a small water ghoul with pale green skin. It looked like a twelve or thirteen year old child. Terrified, it shrank into a ball under the group’s watchful eyes.

At this time, the old man’s bamboo pole descended as he scolded, “Here again to cause trouble!”

Wei Wuxian had just gotten whipped and was now getting hit by a bamboo pole. “Ow!” he yelped, almost losing his grip. Jiang Cheng angrily said, “Speak reasonably. Why are you hitting people? Misunderstanding our good intentions!”

Wei Wuxian quickly said, “No big deal. Old… old uncle, take a closer look. We are not ghouls. This is the ghoul.”

The old man said, “No shit! I’m just old, not blind. Let him go!”

Wei Wuxian startled. He watched the little water ghoul in his hand bowing with its hands clasped in front of its body. Its black eyes wet with tears, looking rather pathetic. In its hands the water ghoul still clung onto the large lotus pod it just stole. The lotus pod was broken open but the water ghoul clearly did not have time to eat many lotus seeds before Wei Wuxian dragged him to the surface.

Jiang Cheng thought to himself that the old man was impossible to reason with. He said to Wei Wuxian, “Don’t let it go. We should take the water ghoul home.”

Hearing those words, the old man raised the bamboo pole again. Wei Wuxian hurriedly said, “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! I’ll let it go!”

Jiang Cheng said, “Don’t let go. What would we do if the water ghoul kills people?”

Wei Wuxian said, “This water ghoul doesn’t smell like blood. He’s young and cannot leave this section of the lake. Recently there has been no word that people have died in this area. It doesn’t seem like he’s harmed anyone before.”

Jiang Cheng said, “Even if he hasn’t harmed anyone before, you can’t guarantee that in the future....”

Before his words finished, the bamboo pole landed with a whoosh. Jiang Cheng, getting hit, angrily said, “Old man, do you not have a sense of good and evil?! You know it’s a ghoul and you’re not scared of it doing harm?!”

The old man responded with self assurance, “I already have one foot in my own coffin. Why would I be scared of a ghoul?”

Wei Wuxian figured it would not be able to run far, so he said, “Stop fighting, stop fighting. I’m letting go.”

He really let go. The water ghoul slithered behind the old man’s boat, too timid to come out again.

Wei Wuxian climbed back onto the boat soaking wet. The old man picked a lotus pod from his boat and threw it into the water. The water ghoul ignored it. The old man then picked a large lotus pod and threw it into the water. The lotus pod bobbed on the surface a few times. Suddenly, half a white head popped out of the water and dragged the two lotus pods down with its mouth like a large white fish. After a while longer, something white floated to the surface again. The water ghoul curled up behind the boat with its arms and hands above water and ate with noisy gusto.

Everyone watched, bewildered, as it ate with enthusiasm.

Watching the old man throw another lotus pod into the water, Wei Wuxian rubbed his chin, feeling a little upset. He asked, “Old uncle, why do you let it steal your lotus pods? You even gift them to it. But when we steal your lotus pods, you hit us.”

The old man responded, “It helps push my boat. Giving it a few lotus pods is nothing. You rascals? How many did you steal today?”

Everyone became embarrassed. Wei Wuxian glanced at the inside of their boat -- there were at least a few dozen. He knew the situation was going to take a turn for the worse and said, “Go!”

A few people immediately picked up the oars as the old man charged forward waving his bamboo pole. His boat moved like the wind. The top of the youths’ heads felt a numbness and the foreboding sense of the bamboo pole making impact. They engaged all their limbs and rowed like crazy. The two boats circled the large lotus pond a couple of times, the old man’s boat closing in on the other boat. Wei Wuxian had already been hit a few times and he noticed the bamboo pole was only aimed at him. He hugged his head and yelled, “Too unfair! Why am I the only one getting hit? Why am I the only one getting hit!”

All the younger disciples said, “Hang in there Shixiong! We’re counting on you!”

Jiang Cheng also said, “Yes, you just hang in there.”

Wei Wuxian said angrily, “That’s it. I can’t hang in there anymore.” He grabbed a lotus pod from the boat and tossed it out, “Catch!”

It was a very large lotus pod -- it hit the water with a thud and a large splash. The old man’s boat paused as expected. The water ghoul happily swam over, scooped up the lotus pod, and began eating

Seizing the opportunity, the Lotus Pier boat escaped.

On the way way back, a younger disciple asked, “Da-shixiong, can ghouls taste flavor?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Usually not. But I think this little ghoul is proba… probab… probably.. Ah… achoo!”

The sun had set and the wind picked up, bringing a sense of coolness and chill. Wei Wuxian sneezed, rubbed his face, and continued, “Probably it wanted to eat lotus pods in its past life but could not. When it snuck there to pick some, it fell into the water and drowned. So… ah… ah…”

Jiang Cheng said, “So, eating lotus pods realized its desires, giving it a sense of fulfillment.”

Wei Wuxian agreed, “Uh, right.”

He touched his back that was covered in crisscrossing old and new injuries and couldn’t help but voice his thoughts, “But this is such a strange injustice for the ages. Why is it that whenever something happens, I’m always the only one who gets hit?”

One younger disciple said, “You are the most handsome.”

Another said, “You have the highest cultivation.”

Yet another added, “You look the best naked.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Wei Wuxian said, “Thank you everyone for the praise. Hearing them gives me goosebumps.”

A younger disciple said, “You’re welcome Da-shixiong. Since you’re the one who blocks hits for us each and every time, you deserve more.”

Wei Wuxian said, shocked, “Oh? There’s more. Let’s hear it.”

Jiang Cheng could not bear hearing more. He said, “Everyone shut up. If you don’t say reasonable things, I just might smash through the bottom of the boat so we all die a clean death.”

At this time, they crossed a section of water with farmland on both sides. In the rice paddies, a few small framed farm girls were plowing. When they saw the boys’ small boat pass by, they ran to the water and waved, “Hey -----!”

Everyone responded with a “Hey” and then jabbed Wei Wuxian, “Shixiong, they’re calling you! They’re calling you!”

Wei Wuxian looked over. Indeed they were people he had led the boys in acquainting. His mood immediately brightened. He stood up, waved, and asked, laughing, “What’s up?”

The small boat moved with the water current and the farm girls followed on land. They walked and talked, “Did you guys go steal lotus pods again?”

“Quick! Tell us how many times you were hit!”

“Or did you go drug other people’s dog?”

Jiang Cheng listened for a few sentences and wanted to kick Wei Wuxian off the boat. He said with bitterness, “Your foul reputation has spread so widely. You’ve really lost face for our family.”

Wei Wuxian defended himself, explaining, “They said ‘you guys’. We’re all in this together, ok? If we lose face, we lose face together.”

While the two were fighting, the first farmgirl yelled, “Was it yummy?”

Wei Wuxian paused in the middle of fighting, “What?”

The farm girl said, “The watermelons we sent over. Were they good?”

Wei Wuxian suddenly understood, “The watermelons were from you guys! They were delicious! Why didn’t you come in and visit for a bit? We could have offered you tea!”

The farm girl smiled sweetly. “When we brought it over, you guys weren’t there. We set them down and left. We dared not stay. Glad they were good!”

Wei Wuxian said, “Thank you!” He then scooped up a few large lotus pods and said, “Have some lotus pods on us! Next time, come in and watch me practice swords!”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Is your practicing swords attractive?”

Wei Wuxian threw the lotus pods towards land. Despite flying a long distance, the lotus pods were light and easy to catch. He grabbed a few more lotus pods and shoved them at Jiang Cheng’s chest, “Why are you doing in a daze? Hurry up!”

Jiang Cheng took the lotus pods against his will after getting them shoved at him. “Hurry up and do what?”

Wei Wuxian said, “You also ate the watermelon. You need to return a gift. Come on, don’t be embarrassed. Everyone, throw! Throw!”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Funny. What is there to be embarrassed about?” His words were such, but even though all the younger disciples on the boat were gleefully throwing lotus pods, he still had not thrown any. Wei Wuxian said again, “Then throw! If we throw this time, next time we can ask them if the lotus pods were delicious. It’ll be another opportunity for conversation!”

All the younger disciples felt enlightened. “So that’s how it is. We are learning! Shixiong is truly experienced!”

“Clearly you do this a lot!”

“You flatter me, hahahaha….”

Jiang Cheng was originally going to throw the lotus pod, but acquired clarity upon hearing the conversation. He felt the action was severely embarrassing and broke open a lotus pod for himself to eat instead.

The boat moved in the water. The girls scurried along on land, catching the jade green lotus pods tossed over by the youths on the boat, running and laughing all the way. Wei Wuxian’s right hand rested between his brows, watching the scenery pass by. As he smiled, he let out a sigh. Everyone asked, “Da-shixing, what’s wrong?” “Girls are chasing us but you sigh?”

Wei Wuxian lifted an oar onto his shoulders and smirked, “Nothing much. I’m just thinking about how I sincerely invited Lan Zhan to Yunmeng for a visit, but he actually refused me.”

All the younger disciples gave a thumbs up, “Wow. Lan Wangji really deserves his reputation!”

Wei Wuxian declared with vigor, “Shut up! One day I will drag him here. And then I will kick him off the boat, deceive him into stealing lotus pods, get the old man to hit him with the bamboo pole, and make him chase after me as I run off, hahahaha...”

After laughing for a while, he turned his head and looked at the Jiang Cheng who was sitting at the end of the boat grumpily eating lotus pods alone. Wei Wuxian’s smile gradually faded. He sighed and said, “Alas, the child cannot be taught.”

Jiang Cheng was angered. “So what if I want to eat it myself.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Oh, you, Jiang Cheng. Whatever, you’re hopeless. You can just eat them yourself for the rest of your life.”

In short, the small boat that went to steal lotus pods once again returned after a successful journey.

119 notes · View notes

theuntamednarrator · 4 years

Text

Thank you @mika--82 for the question! I’m sorry it took so long but since I really enjoyed plotting out my Cangse Sanren lives au, and I think a lot about the women in The Untamed who didn't get to see their children grow up, strap in for round two of TB Revives the Mothers of the Untamed. This week's episode: Save Mama Lan by killing Lan Qiren \^.^/

(Many thanks to @drwcn for letting me borrow her hc names for Mama Lan (Qui Baiti) and Papa Lan (Lan Cenrong). You can read more about them on her blog here and here.)

(Warning for an unsuccessful suicide attempt)

QBT has been isolated in the Jingshi for a decade. She only sees her sons once a month, she isn’t allowed her sword, and her spiritual power is kept sealed

But LWJ inherited his stubbornness from his mum and she's determined to escape, one way or another

LQR is walking by the Jingshi when he feels a massive surge of energy and breaks his first ever Discipline (no running in Cloud Recesses)

He wrenches the Jingshi door open and sees an array that wouldn't look out of place two decades in the future in an alternate universe in a dingy shed behind Mo Manor

LQR breaks his second Discipline in as many minutes (do not make excessive noise) when he screams for his brother before he grabs QBT and drags her out of the array

LQR didn't have time to think, let alone study what the effects of that might be, all he knew was that it was killing her, and that her death would kill the brother he loves more than anything else

The backlash strikes him and he keels over

QBT gathers him up, sobbing and asking why he did it, she wanted to die, why did you do it Lan-er-gongzi? what were you thinking? Your brother loves you

LQR meets his brother’s eyes as he appears over her shoulder, the terrified disciples flanking him a white blur

He smiles and says I know

Curtains on LQR

(alternatively, we can just kill JGS again because ngl that was real satisfying the first time around)

Now the Elders are in a pickle because this may have been an accident but QBT has now been responsible for the deaths of an Elder and Second Young Master Lan

It's decided that the only option is exile

QBT is forbidden from setting foot in Cloud Recesses and the territories of Gusu Lan for ten year and forbidden from speaking to any Lan disciple during that time

She bows, accepts back the plain sword she had yielded when she came through the gates to be married, and is gone before the dawn. LCR watches her leave and then goes to wake their sons

Now, QBT was a wandering cultivator long before she was Lan-furen and actually really enjoys returning to life on the road

I wandered once! I can do it again!

Five years later she meets XXC battling a ferocious demon snake and together they defeat it

QBT definitely doesn’t feel her heart beat a little faster at the youthful face, white robes, and elegant jade-and-silver sword

She answers XXC's graceful bow with one of her own and the two spend a week clearing out the fierce nests of demons on the mountain

The next time their wandering brings them together she is introduced to my good friend Song Lan and hides her smile in her sleeve

Meanwhile in Cloud Recesses without LQR to pick up the slack LCR is forced to step out of seclusion and actually run his sect and parent his children

He does a very good job

QBT has to fight back proud tears every time she hears Twin Jades of Lan spoken of with awe

Ten years to the day of her exile QBT is grinning as she climbs the long flights of stairs towards the gates of Cloud Recesses

Part of that might be the entertaining company she walks with

A young man clutching two bottles of Emperor's Smile and talking so fast she’s only half listening while she tries to figure out if he’s actually taken a breath since introducing himself

Talking at breakneck speed of the young master who had been so strict with him at the gates, aiya Auntie! He was so cold! you should have seen his stony face

QBT only grins harder as WWX climbs the wall, is challenged, and blades flash over tiles (it might bring back fond memories of her own youth)

She slips over the wall while they are distracted and once WWX is silenced she reaches out her hand

You handle your sword beautifully, may I?

LWJ can't even say why - it's too dark to see her face and the voice is roughened after 10 years on the road - but he hands Bichen over without a second thought

She sighs as she runs a finger over the blade and the steel glows, lighting up her face (solely because I think glowy Bichen is very sexy and we should have had more of it in the drama honestly)

Bichen suits you better than it ever suited me, ZhanZhan

LWJ is emoting all over the place (so embarrassing)

(luckily his back is to WWX because if baby disaster bi WWX saw that smile he would've died on the spot)

WWX of course is still a troublemaking rule breaker and LWJ is still charged with overseeing his punishment

QBT and LXC are united in their LWJ should make friends agenda and LXC inherited his sense of humour and delight for teasing LWJ from QBT

Between the two of them LWJ soon has more friends than he knows what to do with

QBT and LXC co-captain the good ship Wangxian

Of course plot stuff still happens including accidental-marriage-before-a-Quest-Ghost

XXC and SL meet them in Yueyang and when LWJ introduces himself they're thrilled because hey we know your mum! she’s real cool!

They don't trust the clans and they might've heard of NMJ but they know Qui-jiejie and they trust her and so they decide XY will go to Cloud Recesses for judgement

N-wow the twin jades are really deserving of their reputations-HS insists on a Qinghe representative going too

oh me? no no Wei-xiong this has been quite enough adventure for me. Meng Yao you'll go won't you? Dage trusts you and Lan-gongzi admired your *delicate cough* capability *innocent smile*

my.blush.com/embarrassed/yearning agrees

QBT is delighted to see XXC and SL again and happily introduces them to her elder son

SL and LXC almost immediately get into a heated debate over ahistorical fantasy chinese philosophy and/or politics and are instantly bonded

QBT may or may not have instigated said debate with a well-timed quote from a well-known (re: divisive) text

Basically QBT shares my get LXC more friends agenda

SL is, again, the first person (apart from LXC and his parents) to laugh at LWJ's jokes

WWX still refuses to believe this actually happened (the joke and SL laughing) (XXC swears it’s true)

XY is locked in the back hills and eventually a) dies trying to use his hidden piece of the yin iron to break the seals OR b) is rehabilitated by the power of bunnies and become an outer disciple (reader's choice!)

XXC and SL accompany WWX and JC part of the way to Lotus Pier

Cloud Recesses is attacked, QBT and LCR send LXC and MY away with the sacred texts, MY promising he knows somewhere safe to hide

LWJ refuses to leave his parents. The losses are not as bad as in canon, the Wen are beaten back, but LCR and LWJ are both injured

No Good Very Bad Summer Camp with World's Worst Head Counselor WC

No Good Very Bad Turtle Cave of Love

WWX wakes post-rescue with LWJ still there

(Because his parents are holding Cloud Recesses and he knows LXC is safe so he doesn't need to rush off)

JZX, JC, LWJ, and WWX spend a day planning before they split up

(this is hilarious and JC says "fuck" not less than 219 times)

(WWX only almost punches JZX and it only happens twice honestly people should be grateful! he was so restrained!!)

They all return home, LWJ promising to bring reinforcements from Cloud Recesses to Lotus Pier (because it's the most obvious next target. no other reason. just. strategically it makes sense)

WQ sends WN to Lotus Pier to warn WWX when WZL's forces are on their way

When the Wen attack, they're met with a prepared force of 1) YZY and the Jiang Disciples 2) QBT, LWJ, and a contingent of Lan Disciples AND 3) JC and WWX and a gaggle of archers (seriously why tf show the Jiang being so good and then only give us two archery fight scene moments and it’s heart breaking sixth young master jiang dying and some rando ouyang disciple shooting WWX?)

Things get a little hairy but between YZY and QBT they defeat WZL and the rest of the Wen quickly surrender

JFM and JYL arrive just as the battle is ending, escorted by Madam Jin, JZX, LQY, and all the Jin Disciples who were at Cloud Recesses

(WWX: MianMian you came you must have been so worried about me! LQY, ignoring him: Lan-er-gongzi are you okay? WWX: ah Lan Zhan you MianMian really likes you! that’s lucky! LWJ, screaming internally: mn)

(JGS was furious when JZX announced he was joining the campaign but what could he possibly say in front of his battle ready wife without looking like the utter coward of a wet biscuit he is)

Once again WWX is left with a screaming sword, too much curiosity, and too much time on his hands (due to his adopted family being not-dead)

But worse he has now also access to a woman who created an array powerful enough to kill even with her spiritual power sealed

Poor WRH doesn't stand a chance, even without MY spying for the Sunshot Campaign

After the battle QBT&LCR and YZY&JFM shut JGS's bullshit power grab down real quick and JGS sulks like the baby he is (probably in a brothel) while Madam Jin and JZX take over Lanling Jin

JZX hears about MY and the way he helped LXC and NMJ sends a letter of support and JZX is already quite jealous of all these sibling bonds and welcomes Ziyao with open arms

(All of which goes slightly to waste when JZY marries out to the Lan clan slightly less than a year later but hey, at least it's a good alliance.)

WQ takes over the Wen Clan but tears down Nightless City and relocates the capital to Dafan

(WQ: have you been to Nightless City? It’s built on an active volcano. Do you know how bad sulfur ash is for open wounds? Do you know what medical herbs grow in lava slurry? None is the answer. My family are all fucking morons)

(WQ: Not you a-Ning you’re a delight and we’re thrilled you’re here)

Rumour has it a certain immortal was so impressed with the stories of the medical techniques of Dafan Wen that she paid WQ a visit

(Disciples are so reckless after all! One never knows when one might need to be capable of transplanting vital organs!)

Each year WWX and LWJ spend 3 months at Gusu, 3 months at Lotus Pier, and 6 months wandering with XXC and SL

They get "fake married" no less than four times in three years (for the investigation xiongzhang! absolutely no other reason shishu! no other reason at all!) before LXC, MY, XXC, and SL get fed up and barricade them in their room until they talk to each other dammit

(LXC is very grateful MY has gotten so handy with the silencing talismans because the 'conversation' gets uncomfortably loud real quick)

Side note to say Clarity works very well to avert a qi deviation when it's not being actively corrupted, thanks very much, and NMJ lives many, many, many years which would be entirely happy if only NHS would pick up his saber once in a while

He would tell NHS this if he could ever find him

Happy ending!³

#³unless you are a hardcore lqr fan #in which case i invite you to ignore the first few paragraphs #assume that qbt got banished for unrelated reasons #and hc that jgs died instead #also i nearly included a few paragraphs #where qbt finds and buries cssr & wcz #and an alt paragraph where she saves them both #but cut them because it was getting too long #AND i was super tempted by an lxc-dies-to-save-nmj which i've 75% plotted #which I have affectionately titled 'lan whumpji'#but then i decided it was nicer to save another mother #because they really get shafted in canon #theuntamednarrative #mika--82 #madam lan #lan qiren #wangxian #xiyao #tw suicide attempt

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