#Gil helps carry in the groceries
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Who do you think is Ajaks favorite child?
So, Ajak would say that she loves all her children equally. She would never have favourites!
But yes she does and it's Sersi--hear me out!
It's not just the picking her to take over as Prime, because that's obvious. But I'm talking about how I think Sersi is the most human of all the Eternals.
Ajak loves all her kids. They function all together, as a family, even the cantankerous Druig and stubborn Ikaris and prickly Thena. Ajak wouldn't change anything about them.
But Sersi is different. From the moment they first awaken Ajak knows Sersi has insatiable curiosity, and passion, and love for all she does. Ajak sees how much Sersi loves life in all its forms and admires it, maybe even envies how much more freely Sersi can love without the burden of the truth weighing on her.
Ikaris is her secondhand, and he knows all that she does (mostly). He becomes a confidante to her in a way none of her other children are. And yet this ultimately dooms them both to never actually being able to depend on each other in an emotionally healthy way. Both are a pillar of the irrevocable truth and fear how it will crush their family if they move from that.
But that's why I think Thena's role in this is so fascinating (my bias is showing, I'm well aware). Because Thena also knows the truth, on some level, even from the beginning. It can be argued even before then--maybe she always gets Mahd Wy'ry, maybe she always remembers the horrors that they facilitate in their missions.
Ajak knows this. That's why she suggests erasing Thena, because she really does love her, and she knows firsthand the burden of knowledge. Thena already had wisdom, it's the knowledge that really endangered her.
I also think that's why Druig's relationship to Thena is so much deeper than what we got in the movie. He speaks up for her--he speaks up for her against Ajak, and Ikaris, and Arishem himself. He believes that Thena has a right not to want to forget their lives, and he obviously doesn't trust the answers he gets from Ikaris or their Prime.
Ajak is a very complicated character. She's not entirely right, she's not wrong either, and I do believe that she does the best with what she has. And that she loves her children. That, above all else, is what drives this person: love for her children and for people.
And that's Sersi's favourite thing: people. Sersi loves life and the people in it, and everything in between. Sersi is who Ajak could be if she didn't have the burden of their mission on her. And yes, she does impress that onto Sersi and burden her with that. It's hard to reconcile, and confusing, and it creates hardship for Sersi. But Ajak did so knowing Sersi was the right one to take this on.
Because this mother has high hopes for her daughter, and she knows what she can handle because she forged this child's soul from her own.
#Eternals#Ajak#a biopsy if you will just some thoughts of mine#also yes I saw the Barbie movie why do you ask?#mother-daughter relationships are endlessly complex#and I don't want to trivialize anything for anyone by waxing poetic about it from my own perspective#but this is what I think about Ajak and Sersi's relationship#also sorry you probably thought this would be a really fun ask and I've done...this#okay so for those who read the tags#Ikaris is her very good mama's boy who does everything right but then she finds out is wanted in six states for federal crimes#and she goes where did I go wrong???#Thena: where could he have gone right is really the question#Thena is like Ikaris' twin they're so alike#Ajak asks how Thena is and Thena just nods and walks off#she's more of an icy teenager than Sprite is to her#but at least Gilgamesh makes Thena a little sweeter#he's also best boi so...write that down#Gil helps carry in the groceries#Sprite acts like she's too cool for it all but really she still likes cuddles and I will die on that hill#Druig is constantly bitching about 'mother dear'#while Ajak and Makkari have a great relationship!#They're obviously close Makkari is holding her in the wedding scene#Makkari is very close and sweet with Ajak but Makkari is also a wild child#she steals and is rambunctious and likes breaking the rules#Miss Goody Two Shoes is Sersi herself#Phastos too up until...a certain point#And Kingo...Kingo thinks he's her favourite#like truly and genuinely
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Letters to the Sea-Uma
Uma X Auradon! Reader
Soulmate AU: Everything that is written or drawn on your Soulmate’s skin will appear on your own
I created three days of the Sea Three, Ending it with the Captain. Uses They/Them for the reader
They started to wonder if their soulmate didn’t exist, some people did end up that way. Or maybe they just always had ink and paint on their hands already and that’s why they never saw something appear on their skin? Maybe their soul mate didn’t use ink or paint, just pencil and color pencil for things, that would keep things from showing up on their own skin. Or perhaps, they didn’t like writing on themselves? The royal thought of a million reasons why they wouldn’t find something on their skin. They weren’t ready to except the fact that not everyone had a true love. Frustrated, the cap of a pin was yanked off, falling to the desk as they put the tip of it to their skin, maybe they could just write to them? “Hello, my name is (Y/n). Is anyone out there?”
Felling the tingling of her soulmate on her skin, Uma jumped to check it. The words stared up at her, “Is anyone out there?” Uma traced the words, she loved when things appeared on her skin. Paint in royal blues and shining silvers would randomly cover her fingers, black and red ink smeared on the side of her hand and arm, grocery lists and chemistry notes appearing on her wrist. Whoever her soulmate was, they were artsy and forgetful. And that was precious to the sea witch. She knew this was something she had to respond to, reaching under the bar for her own pen. “Uma, remember the name.”
(Y/n) was in class when they felt the tingling on their arm for the first time, the words stared up at them in a handwriting that they found charming. Uma’s ‘r’s were sharp, ‘e’s held a slight point to them, the ‘a’s were hooked, the top nearly touched the loop at the bottom. “Remember the name” as if they would forget, their soulmate existed, that was the most exciting thing to them. Days went by after that, they didn’t feel the tingling again. Apparently making the first move at a conversation couldn’t get them anywhere unless they carried it past the first introduction. So there the royal sat, writing a letter on their left thigh to a person they had never met.
“Uma is a really nice name, I’ve never met someone with a name like that. I guess I should tell you about myself? I don’t really know how to do this whole, letters to a stranger thing, but it would be nice to get to know you. I love painting but I guess you can tell that, surely you’re covered by the works of that the same way I am, sorry for that by the way. I also always wanted a cat but I’m allergic so my parents won’t let me, I’m not even deadly allergic though so I don’t see how that’s fair, I’d be fine managing.”
Uma sat on her bed, staring down at the letter with a laugh, is that what they were doing now? The girl grabs a pen out of her bag, writing on her right thigh so it wouldn’t cover her soulmate’s writing. She didn’t exactly know what to say to them, the whole soulmate business was weird. Villains weren’t supposed to care about true love, yet there she was, writing a letter the the person who was meant to be the love of her life.
“(Y/n) is a nice name, no one has that name around here either. I don’t mind the paint, the ink smearing down my arm can get annoying though, but I won’t hold it against you. I’m not a fan of cats, I always wanted a sea pony though, we have two at school, I help take care of them, even took them home twice. It was the most exciting thing, I love them, I swear to you one of them can recognize me when I walk into the room, she swims right up to the glass of the tank when she sees me. I should stop talking about them though, I don’t want you to think I’m soft.”
So the pair wrote their letters, (Y/n) on their left leg, Uma on her right. It was a daily thing the royal’s letter would appear while the sea witch was in class, she’d respond when she went home to sleep. (Y/n) would wake up to the words of the girl every morning, smile planted on their face. Everything was perfect, going smooth, the royal loved to hear the girl ramble about sea ponies, the sea witch would smile as she read about the new paints and shoes the royal bought. Then one day the sea witch was hit hard. At the end of the letter stood the worst thing she could imagine. “So I never asked who your parents were. Mine are royals, (Your favorite princess) to be exact.” How would they react, knowing that Uma was on the Isle? They would never meet, they couldn’t. Villain kids were stranded in that barrier, no way she’d ever know the royal’s face, how they laughed. So she didn’t respond.
“Uma? I understand why you never responded to my last letter, it was rude of me to ask,” the waterproof ink started to cover their arm, “I was there, at the cotillion, it’s crazy to think that I was just a few yards away from you. I’m not quite sure where you are, I know you won’t respond to me, I doubt there’s pens in the ocean. But I hope you’re safe, I’m sorry. I missed you, that’s weird to say I’m sure, the only time we met you probably didn’t know I was there, maybe you did. But you were the best part of waking up every morning, I worried about you staying up so late you know. I just, hope one day we can actually meet, restart.”
The sea witch thought about those words for months, rising to the surface for the first time to meet her first mate and her, Gil, was exciting. But all she wanted was a pen. Hearing about the sleeping spell from the other VKs was the worst feeling she just wanted to know that her soulmate was okay. Lucky enough for her, Evie had one that she let her borrow. “(Y/n), I don’t know if you’re asleep or stone or if somehow you escaped the spell. But I’m in Auradon, and I hope that you’re okay, somehow.”
Waking up to see that Uma had written back was the most exciting thing the royal could imagine. She was here, she was in Auradon, and she worried about them. Hearing from Carlos that the sea witch had left was the earth shattering to the royal, but they understood, if they could stay home forever or never go back, they’d stay home too. The letters started back, an apology from the both, a tearful recognition that the two were destined to be in love yet destined to never meet. Then, Mal announced that she couldn’t be queen without the barrier coming down. (Y/n)’s stomach was doing summersaults, this was their chance, their real chance. Their lip was trapped between their lip as they stared over the bridge, watching their soulmate dance across it. As they bowed with the other Auradon kids for the citizens of the Isle, their excitement was growing. She was here, really here. She made it to Auradon, just a few yards away again, and (Y/n) was going to see her this time. “Uma!” It was her first time hearing the voice of her soulmate as they ran towards her, body crashing into her own. “(Y/n),” it was breathy as she relaxed into their touch. They did it, they were never truly destined to be apart.
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Hello! ¡Hola! Ciao! Salut ! So question: what would you do if you ever met Gilbert, Lovi and Arthur in real life? And possibly where would be the location of your meeting? 🙃
Dear Ancients are you trying to kill me? @_@
Salutations, Lovely~ I'll try to be as... realistic as I can here, I guess.
First off, I at least know from experience that I would keep my panic at bay until I was finally alone again, when I would have a full on meltdown. I don't-
How do you cope with meeting someone you've been lowkey daydreaming about for the past ten years? Silently vow to yourself to keep calm and carry the fuck on, and make sure you never let them find out that you've been writing fanfiction about them for near a decade.
As for how I would meet them?
Well, that's honestly a really hard one to answer, luv. ^_^; Despite my severe social anxiety, I casually befriend people all the time, in some of the most unpredictable ways.
I based each of these loosely off of how I actually met some of my friends, as realistically I can't even begin to narrow down just how I meet/befriend people.
Arthur I know would be the most likely candidate for actually, unintentionally running into. My ultimate goal for years has been to move back to London on a permanent basis, hopefully earn my Masters equivalent in History or Journalism. Now, I gotta be honest, I was rarely ever in my dorm except to sleep; there was a whole city to see!
I got roped into a giant game of Manhunt in Southwark with a bunch of (at that time) strangers, I wandered the damp silt along the Thames when the tide was low, bonding with some Crawlers over the cool ass artifacts we found, and there was Brazilian student I became Whats App buddies with during a weekend bus trip to Belgium, bonding over our books, the fact we were the only singles in a tour group filled with couples, and everything we thought the other should explore back in London.
I can honestly say that Arthur is... Welp, I just think out of the three of them, however we meet would be the most random happenstance. Maybe he's the punk I bonded with while in the queue outside Garfunkle's, singing along to the vintage tunes and gradually loosening up into overly dramatic faces and silly dances.
Gilbert would... As much as I love him, I feel like in real life he would probably intimidate me at first.
He reminds me of these guys I met in Montmartre that started walking with me, rambling at me in French, then English, trying their damndest to convince me to let them buy me a coffee. I thought I was in the clear when I used Italian to say I didn't understand what they were saying, and my fucking luck that one of them was fluent in Italian, too. Or maybe he's like the guy who was at the Venice airport waiting for the same flight, bored out of his mind and playing wallball with a small bouncy ball he had in his pocket, who I ended up asking to join when my roommate fell asleep on her then-boyfriend, now-husband. Or he'd be like the kid who accidentally got locked into Regent's Park after hours, and I helped him climb over the fence to get back out. Or maybe he's the guy I made laugh in an Amsterdam grocery store because of my mini meltdown over finally finding Cool American Doritos at 10 pm, who then helped me figure out exactly which pre-sliced deli meat was turkey-esque.
The thing with Gil is that he's such an extrovert that I could see him being the one more likely initiating any possible friendships.
And then there's Lovino.
If he were true to canon, he's more than likely the one approaching me. Maybe he's the guy who rescued me in Rome from the tourist trap gladiator actors, who will gladly take pictures with you, but don't tell you till after that you're suppose to pay them for each photo. Or maybe he's the guy from the flight to Roma, who was on the phone before takeoff cursing lowly in Italian about politics, and for my dumbass and smart mouth to immediately start commiserating with him, the next hour and a half spent venting to each other about our nations' mutually terrible politicians, and the woes of living in the hellishly expensive London. Or, or! Lovi could be the man I saw in the Barcelona airport at 4 am eating breakfast, who was just so beautiful that all of my party kept checking him out. My philosophy has always kind of been to regret the things that you do rather than didn't do, so as we all got ready to head for our gate, I politely approached him to tell him that he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. And his smile-
To this day, whoever that man was, he is still the most beautiful person I had ever seen. But when I said that, and he smiled at the compliment, only to return it with this earnestness that still makes my heart flutter even as I write this well over five years later-
Anyway.
I'm sorry this got so long, but really I'm not quite sure how else I could go about this. ^_^;
I make friends in all kinds of situations, something that's both a curse and a blessing. I couldn't possibly guess the circumstances, couldn't even begin to imagine how or when it'll happen.
Just keep an open mind, an open heart, and find confidence in who you are, and the rest pretty much follows~
Thanks for the ask, Lovely!
#aph england#aph prussia#aph romano#i don't even try to make friends sometimes it just happens ^_^#i have such severe social anxiety and yet somehow-#anon asks#personal asks#ace speaks#hello lovelies!#this ended up being a mini montage of some of the guys who attempted/partially succeeded to steal my heart in Europe#I'm still friends with a lot of them to date!#the location is impossible to predict as are the circumstances#all i know is that i probably wouldn't know any of their names till long into the budding bromance and by then#yep ace would have a meltdown ^_^;;;;#in retrospect i may be more an extrovert than previously thought#yeah i fell in love with a stranger at an airport#and had two aghast Americans and one awestruck irishman asking me how the hell i was able to talk to him#it was literally like 'hi excuse me i just wanted to tell you that you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and i hope you have an#amazing day' only for him to just light up like the literal sun with this perfect smile and a warmth that filled me to my toes#yeah#i still think about him sometimes. i hope he's doing okay.
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5. Residence
On the first day, she figures out her favorite spots in the apartment.
It doesn’t take long. As far as cozy spots go she’s spoiled for choice.
When pressed, she says it's the armchair on the second floor that’s large enough for her to curl all of her six-odd fulms into, with a bookshelf just behind her and an orchestrion within reaching distance. She always tells herself that it’d be a great place to have coffee in the morning, but when five bells finds her as it usually did, dead-eyed from fitful rest, she sighs and resigns herself to draping herself across the living room couch while she waits for her kettle to sing. She drums her fingers across the porcelain of her mug as she watches the mobile of bluebirds twirl just overhead. She thinks about the identical ones her friend has in her office, and chuckles at the thought of her fondness for the pudgy little things. It was so very much like her.
The couch becomes home to plenty of slumping, of various kinds. Slumping with a book in her hands, every so often nodding off and dropping it on the bridge of her nose. Slumping with a bottle of wine, drained quietly alone, when there were memories that needed to be drowned. Slumping in agony, every muscle screaming after squeezing blood into gil, wondering how much more punishment she could take. Wondering what there even would be left for her, after she finally reached that limit.
But even then, it was a home for those things. And that wasn’t lost on her.
On the second day, she buys groceries. It’s a little ambitious of her. She’s bad at it, is easily swindled at the marketplace, and over half a job’s take goes to food she’ll either burn or forget about or leave to mold, but when she puts the fruit down on the fruit rack and the produce in the ice box, she feels a quiet kind of pride. She tries to tell herself that it was worth it, even when she returns to Momodi days before she meant to and pleads hat in hand for more work. And the next evening after finds her with a black eye and a seam of stitches through her side, hunched over a bowl of Hannish takeout as she gives up on her plans to make soup that evening.
But even then, it was a home for those things. And that wasn’t lost on her.
On the fifth day, she doesn’t leave the apartment. She barely leaves the loft bed; only long enough to drag a bottle and some leftovers with her into her nest of blankets. She keeps the light pink curtains drawn, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the fish tank just beyond it. She tries and fails not to think, bell after bell, over and over and over again. The liquor helps. Until it doesn’t. And as she clumsily lowers herself into the blue claw-footed tub, water near scalding, she tries not to look down at her body. She brings the bottle back to her lips, and curses herself for wasting her day off like this.
But even then, it was a home for those things. And that wasn’t lost on her.
On the eighth day, she has a friend over.
She’s never had a friend over before, and she has no idea how it’s done. She spends the whole day before cleaning and scrubbing and, arms deep in sudsy water, she wonders how in the seven hells she could have left so many mugs all over the place. But it has to look right, even if she knew her guest didn’t care. She’d learned a long time ago, under oaken trees, small hands sticky with sap, that the way you showed your gratitude was by taking care of what you were given. She watches, as they walk together under the Ul'dahn sun, how the woman breezes through the marketplace. A few of the merchants insist that Saint Savage will not be paying today (What a title, she thinks every time it comes up), and yet she always does. She watches the smile on her face in every interaction. She’s seen that smile in dingy bars and packed clubs and late summer nights, and it’s a smile she hopes she always has cause to come back around to.
She helps her carry their ingredients back up the apartment stairs, and she doesn’t notice that she can take them without looking now. She pours two glasses of wine, she sharpens a kitchen knife with her well-loved whetstone, and she renders produce into cubes with surgical precision. She curls her fingers in towards her palm as she’d been taught, and in her mind's eye she can see the big, leathery hands that had once modeled the technique for her. She’s put in charge of seasoning, and the color nearly drains from her face. She shrugs, she gives in, and she sends clouds, cascades, torrents of pungent spices down into the mixing bowl. She talks. She reminisces. She laughs. She watches her friend pull a wooden spoon through a cast iron skillet, framed by the setting sun pouring through the kitchen window, and something about the sight almost makes her cry.
She’s handed her portion, and as they eat she quickly realizes, too late, how much spice was too much. And how far past too much she had gone. As they begin to tear up, sinuses going completely rampant, they can’t help but look at each other and laugh, loud and hard and long even as they cough and sputter and stumble over each other, trying to find something to put out the fire they’d lit in their mouths. Collapsed into a giggling pile on the floor, she rests her head on her friend’s shoulder, taking her hand in hers while they passed a bottle of rolanberry juice between them. She wishes that some moments would stretch on forever.
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On the ninth day, she cleans up dishes they’d forgotten to take care of the night before. She tries her best to buff out a deep red juice stain on the wall she begins to worry just isn’t coming out. And as she pours salt into the bottom of the cast iron skillet and begins to scrub at it with a rag, she wonders what the place was like when her friend first arrived, long before the two of them had met. What spoke to her about each book as she filled out her shelves. What kinds of songs she played on the white piano in the back. What dishes she cooked with the bundles of dried spices, hung just above the windowsill. Why she had stocked the bar so full for a single-person apartment. And what she saw in the mobile of bluebirds when she slumped across the couch and watched them lazily spin.
Because she had built a home out of those things. And that wasn't lost on her.
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Chard Headcanons?
I recently realized that FlanAAARGH didn't really put much detail on Chard, so I just used common sense, 2 brain cells, and some help from real humans to fill in the gaps. To be honest, you can picture Chard however you want. Chard with black hair with no beard? Valid! Chard with two pigtails with red hair and is shorter than Salt? Valid! Chard with rainbow galaxy hair with rainbow sparkly galaxy eyes and is taller than the castle??! YOUR VALID AND I SUPPORT YOU (I think I went overboard with that). Anyway, here you go. Keep in mind that these headcanons are just my thoughts and you don't have to honor these....thoughts.
• Chard has white hair as said in the books because he is well old (but not that old!) but I think his hair was probably originally a light shade of blonde ( IT WILL MAKE SENSE ONCE I PUT MY THEORY FOR "WHY GARATH KILLED CHARD" LATER IN THE MONTH).
• So since Crowbird has green eyes (imo) and Salt has dark brown/black eyes (also imo), I'm debating on giving Chard either blue or Gray eyes. The winner? Gray. So Chard has gray eyes and light blonde hair.
• I forgot to say this but Chard has long hair like Crowbar.
• Height? Chard is taller than Salt, Will, and Mad but shorter than Crowbird and Gilan obviously.
• I saw a post about whether Chard has a last name and if I were to answer that question I would say no, he doesn't have a last name. This is my belief: Chard is an orphan, always have been until a kind hearted ranger adopted him and made him his apprentice. That was my thought like, 2 weeks ago but now...I don't really agree with the adopting stuff. I feel like...Chard is an orphan who sometimes get food from an nice old lady who has no kin. In return, Chard took care of the old lady for 11 years until she got ill. A healer (who was probably the mentor of Malcolm) told Chard that he will have to find another way to survive. The healer also offered Chard to become his apprentice but Chard refused, for he rather not stay in the fancy cottages where healers lived (its somewhere near the castle). Anyway, once the old lady died, a short, muscular Ranger came to Chard at the funeral and asked if Chard wants to be his apprentice. Now, the Ranger has actually watched Chard grow up, from the times he helped younger kids get their kites out of trees to helping the old lady walk and carrying her groceries. All in all, Chard was a kind-hearted boy who's ready to help people in need, and that's what the Ranger liked best about the long boy. Chard agreed to be the Ranger's apprentice and the Ranger took him to his cabin after the funeral. ( I actually wrote a little bit more about Chard living in the cabin but I decided to get rid of it since it was...boring)
• Chard likes to put milk and sugar in his coffee (mum made it for me recently and it tastes really good imo).
• Chard is gay. He is probably a gay ace.
• The only reason I say he's gay because...well..Will, Salt, Gil, and Mad are bisexuals and Crowbar is the only one who is gay. Chard probably has a lot of crushes on other Ranger's apprentices when he was in his 3-4 year but he didn't know how to confess to them. ( I don't know why he is ace but Imma leave it because I like it :3)
• Hrghjgg Chard came out of the closet when he was 17 (or 18) and the Ranger supported him ( the Ranger is probably queer or aroace or pansexual or Idk, he is somewhat part of the LGBTQ+ community). Wait why did I even wrote this whole paragraph sdfhkkdha.
• GAYYYYYY
• Chard has a courier friend and a scribe friend. Don't look at me like that, I'm not going to make new names for them, you do it or something like that in your free time..
• Idk what fief Chard and the Ranger lived in, my job was to figure out basic details, not going into full depth about Chard's whereabouts.
• Ranger number...heck I have no clue but then that isn't important at all.
I will go into detail sooner or later about Chard's likes and interests but not right now. Oh and take these picrews, I eventually got annoyed when drawing Chard (because I don’t like drawing people 😅) so I decided to do some picrews based off Chard. They probably look kind of wack because some of them had more femine feature (and also I was very picky with the options) but oh well.
Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/197122
Picrew owner: https://twitter.com/spotchy_pooch
Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/296093
Picrew owner: https://twitter.com/poika_
Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/343731
Picrew owner: @citrus-captain
Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/97204
Picrew owner: @blograinyoak
#rangers apprentice#ranger's apprentice#ra#rangers apprentice pritchard#pritchard#screw flanaaargh for being mean to Chard >:(#shadow is now a researcher ^_^
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A Whole New World Prelude Pt 1
Here is the first part of A Whole New World Series! Enjoy!
My first Harry Hook x reader fic!
Key:
{Y/N} = Your Name
{L/N} = Last Name
{E/C} = Eye color
{H/C} = Hair Color
{H/L} = Hair Length
{S/C} = Skin Color
So I'm falling, but you're probably wondering how I got here…. Well.
{Flashback}
I was just walking down the street. You see I don't have many friends, and my family basically tossed me out of their lives when I started High School this year. But that's besides the point. It was a nice Saturday Morning and I was heading to the store to get some groceries and well I went from walking to falling.
{End Flashback}
Wait is that an ocean? Nononononono I can't swim!
"Help!!!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I curled up into a ball as I hit the water. I tried screaming for help again but I was slowly seeing darkness. Last thing I saw was a person.
(3rd person pov)
Harry Hook, feared pirate of the Isle, was stunned to watch a girl fall out of the sky, screaming, and into the water. But when he didn't see her come up, he tossed off his hat, hook, and coat and dove in after her.
A pirate had to know how to swim.
He caught the girl before she could meet Davy Jones, or even meet one of Tick Tock's kids. Wrapping his arm around her waist he pulled her up to the surface and swam to the shore.
He laid her on the beach, listening to her chest before he began a bit of cpr.
(1st person pov)
I woke up, coughing up water and sitting up straight, before bending over to get rid of the excess water in my lungs.
"Well Lass, glad ta see ya alive." A Scottish male voice stated.
I blinked and opened my eyes, looking up to see who I can assume is my savior. Oh my is he hot!
"......" I couldn't even talk, stunned by how freaking pretty this dude was, ocean blue eyes, staring at me expectingly.
"Well Lass, it be time for ya to come with me." He stated, helping me up and dragging me towards a pirate ship. Was this real?
He brought me on board and I watched as the crew circled me. I noticed the guy change, putting on a pirate hat and jacket, and grabbing a hook. Is he a younger version of Captain Hook?
"So Harry. You tellin me she just fell out of the sky?" A female voice stated, causing me to turn around.
A girl decked out in pirate gear and barnacles… is she related to Davy Jones? And his name is Harry?
"Aye! She just fell from the sky." Harry explained.
I raised my hand just enough to have the girl and Harry look at me questioningly.
"Hi. Um, a few things. Firstly my name is {y/n, l/n}. Secondly, where am I? And lastly, who are you guys?" I asked.
The two looked at each other and laughed.
"You really don't know? Well to answer yer questions. This is the Isle. And I'm Uma, Daughter of Ursula, this is Harry Hook son of Captain Hook, and the one to yer right is Gil, son of Gaston." Uma explained.
I covered my mouth as I laughed. "Someone slept with Ursula?? And Hook???? And Gaston???" I fell to the floor laughing my ass off.
Harry stomped over to me, grabbing my {h/l} {h/c}.
"Owww!!"
"Shut yer trap! Ye have no idea what our parents are like!" As Harry screams at you, you notice the scars on his right wrist and his neck.
"I'm sorry. I didn't have the best life growing up either." I explained as Harry released my hair.
"Yea well yer stuck with us now." Harry stated walking back to Uma.
"Looks like yer apart of my crew now. So get to scrubbin!" Uma exclaimed, a mop and bucket being thrown at me.
I frowned as the crew walked away, going back to their things. I frowned but began to mop. This was going to be a long day.
~20 minutes later~
I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I finished mopping. A hat was slapped on my head.
"Yer comin with me, {y/n}." Harry stated, looking a bit pissed, probably still at me.
"Where are we going?" I asked, fixing the small pirate's hat that was put on my head.
"Ta rob some places. Duh!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing my wrist and dragging me off the ship and through a tube.
"B-but why?" I questioned, trying to free my wrist.
"We're pirates, and this is the Isle, where all the Villains are locked up! Nice people don't survive. Oh…" we were stopped by a purple-haired girl. She wore a purple and green outfit. Huh, whose kid is she?
"Hook… oh who's the new girl? I don't recognize her…" the girl spat, her eyes...glowing?
"Well she's the newest member of Uma's gang. Not that it matters to you. What are ye doin on Uma's turf?" Harry asked, holding up his hook at the girl.
She didn't even flinch. "Well, you're cutting off the girl's blood flow ya dumb pirate."
Harry loosened his grip on my wrist. I took a step behind Harry, not trusting this girl. Harry seemed to take a protective stance.
"It's a little rude. My mother is going to hear about this. You’re hiding her, I know it, my mother won’t like this!" The girl exclaimed, sticking her gum on Harry's hook and walking away.
Harry cursed under his breath as he took the gum off his hook. I slowly came out from behind him.
"Who was she?" I asked looking up at Harry.
"That bitch was Maleficent's daughter." Harry spat, clearly pissed at her.
I shivered, Maleficent was one of my worst feared villain movies. "I've always been scared of Maleficent as a child." I muttered.
Harry lifted an eyebrow. "That's another thing I need to ask ye, how do ye know our parents?" Harry asked me as he threw the gum onto the side of a building.
I frowned and looked at the cloudy sky. "Well growing up your parents were in stories for me. The good guys always defeating the villains. Personally, I enjoyed the Neverland stories. But I was a bit confused by Hook. He was obsessed with a child and had hatred for peter pan. Though Peter Pan was definitely not my favorite, I actually liked Smee." I rambled on.
Harry chuckled. "Smee is great. His two little runts look up to me, They call me Uncle Harry."
I giggled at the thought. "Smee's kids call you Uncle? That's so sweet!" I smiled as we walked through the Isle.
My smile vanished as I noticed the poor living conditions of the Isle. "Wow."
Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Aye the conditions on the Isle are horrible. But what do yeh expect? Auradon gets all the glitz and glam and we get all their scraps." Harry explained, a cold indifference to his voice.
I shivered at that, Harry sounded so...used to it, no one should live like this, especially kids. I was surprised by this fact. Why were these people living like this? Why weren't they given real food? So many questions I wanted to ask but not yet.
"Here we are at our first stop." Harry announced.
I looked up to see that we were apparently at Lady Tremaine's Curl Up and Dye shop. Huh guess Lady Tremaine ended up on the Isle too.
Harry grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside the shop. A girl was inside sweeping up hair, wearing headphones.
Harry frowned and tapped his hook on the counter catching the girl's attention. Oh my, she's quite young, I believe she's 4 years younger than us. Wow. We're only 9th graders…
My heart just broke. This was horrible. But I did question whose daughter she was. Was she Drizella's or Anastasia's daughter? Oh what's going on?
"Hand it over ya runt!" Harry exclaimed.
The girl sighed and walked behind the counter, opening the register and giving the money to Harry.
"Thank ye, come on {y/n}." Harry stated grabbing my wrist, and leading me out of the salon.
Heading to our next stand I asked Harry a question. "Harry, who was that girl you stole from?"
"That girl? Oh you mean the little bright-eyed runt? That was Dizzy, Drizzilla's daughter." Harry explained before he flashed a dangerous smirk at the stand tender who paled and shakily handed harry a basket of eggs
"Ok, that's good to know." I stated as we continued, now carrying the basket of eggs, after harry handed it to me. I watched Harry collect items and money from multiple stands.
"So what is all this for?" I inquired as harry counted a roll of papers and gold coins "payment, for Uma's protection" Harry said, nodding to the person manning the fruit stall, and continuing to another with vegetables.
I frowned at this. Why do they need Uma's protection? That was something I was going to learn very quickly.
"This is our turf Hook! Go back to Shrimpy!" Maleficent's daughter exclaimed.
I hid behind Harry once more. Yes I was terrified of this purple-haired girl. That's when another female voice spoke up.
"Come on Mal. We need to get going! Jay and Carlos are waiting for us." The girl stated, causing Mal to grumble a bit before I heard her stomping off.
A few seconds passed before I stepped out from behind Harry. "So can I ask why Mal hates you so much?" I asked tentatively.
"Mal is a bitch. She pulled a prank on Uma when we were young and gave her the nickname Shrimpy. Don't call 'er that though, she will not be happy." Harry explained as we turned and headed back towards the docks.
But this time instead of heading through the tube tunnel, we turned and headed towards Ursula's Chip Shop. Huh I guess it's a British fish and fry shop. Cool.
Walking inside, the first thing I noticed was the smell of fish. To be expected I guess. Oh it looks like the crew is getting ready.
"We're back!" Harry called out, setting the stuff he held onto the bartop table.
He motioned for me to do the same with the basket I was holding. I carefully sat the basket on the table, and the blonde one, I believe Uma said his name was Gil, He is definitely built like Gaston, reached for the egg basket as soon as it touched the table.
"Gil. Those are for the shop!" Uma exclaimed before he could take one.
Gil pouted a bit but stepped aside so Uma could examine the haul. She counted the number of eggs in the basket, seeming happy with the number she moved to the money. Counting the money she smirked.
"Good job everyone. But now it's time for school. So everyone get goin!" Uma shouted and the whole crew wrestled around getting their stuff together.
Harry just yawned and chatted with Uma. I on the other hand sat at a table and watched everything going on. I have a feeling I won't be returning home anytime soon. Not that anyone will miss me. I didn't own much. I didn't have any friends. And I didn't have any pets. So yea. I think I'm ok living here.
"{Y/N}!!! Get a movin! We're sneakin ya into school!" Harry exclaimed with a smirk.
Shit.
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Because I’m very into the whole domestic married life thing as well as Nyo!AusPru right now
Thinking of Nyo!Austria (Annelise. Annie, as Gilbert would say) and just...Normal Gil. Such a fukcin hhhhHhhh Home Life Duo
Of course there’ll be some old-fashioned (asshole) PTA dad/mom or relative that’s like “Such a pretty woman like you working? Why don’t you let your husband do it?” And she would get so pissed off like “How DARE you speak of my husband that way! He is a wonderful man and is nothing but helpful and caring and he keeps our house and family together, he is Talented and Loving and makes the most of his time for both himself and me at home, and I LIKE my job very much, coming home to someone like him is impossible for you, you WISH you could have what we have, don’t you Ever Speak About Him That Way-“ while Gilbert is standing there with his dog in leash like “Lol yeah that’s me.”
He’s (also this applies for normal Roderich too but I headcanon Nyo!Austria to be a bit more..Spendy, than Roderich) the one who carries all the shopping bags for Annie, whether it’s for groceries or a frivolous shopping spree, and he’s very well built so everyone’s like “wow that woman can step on me and her husband is a total hunk, god I wish that were me” absolute power couple.
He still spoils her, obviously (Gilbert is a bit of a service top actually. Or a sub. Whatever you wanna say). Like a fancy night out, he’d be so gentle and kiss her on the ring and be so soft compared to his usual vibes. And he’s just a completely lovesick puppy and can’t even handle how beautiful is wife is.
She’s so patient and impatient with him, if that makes sense. He’s such a goofball though, and she’s always snappy about his pranks or immaturity but never says it in a mean way bc she really loves him and knows that she wouldn’t ever have him any other way. And when he’s upset or quiet, which settles after a long time, she’s always there to let him rest on her lap and tells him he’s doing great and everything is fine.
Also again to differentiate Annie from Roddy, I draw her shorter too, so it’s just this sophisticated lady with a blouse and her hair all done up and this tall angular man who’s in a teeshirt making faces at her while she scolds him for something silly.
I’m definitely gonna add more to this
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@cloversent said: Oz had a white apron on as he walked into the kitchen. He pushed up his sleeves and plopped his hands on his hips. He huffed, his servant wasn’t going to talk him out of this one. “I’m here to help in the kitchen today, Gil! What do we do first?”
There’ve been times where Gilbert found himself in tough situations -- more than the average person. Throughout the past couple of decades, he had to learn how to get more creative with performing simple tasks such as carrying groceries, shopping for groceries, getting around, starting his day ... moving into the next chapter of his life without his arm has made him more aware of just how different things are now. Sometimes, he still forgets he doesn’t have his left arm to rely on anymore when needed.
One of the most difficult tasks he’s had to learn again was working in the kitchen. There’s definitely been a learning curve and there’s definitely been a lot of mistakes along the way but no one’s perfect. Besides, as the years went by, he’s managed to relearn his dishes as well as brush up on his skills. It’s taken time to get to the point that he’s at but he thinks he’s come a long way if he really compared the past to the present. He’s definitely proud of the achievements and progress he’s made thus far.
Now, it’s different. With Oz and Alice back with him, it took even more time to get used to the changes which ... weren’t totally changes but were changes nonetheless. He noticed how persistent Oz has been with helping him around the house -- he’s helped Gilbert with just about everything. Except for the kitchen. It’s mostly because Gilbert felt most confident in himself in the kitchen -- it’s probably the one thing he’s really good at and the one thing Oz isn’t.
But today Oz wasn’t having any of it. Clearly.
He blinks. “ Eh? ” one look at the apron and it all clicked. Wait, he isn’t serious ... “ Oz, what are you doing? I’ve got it under control. ” Before he can continue, Oz is already gathering the kitchenware -- practically getting everything in sight. He wasn’t listening.
“ ... did you even wash your hands? ”
#cloversent#┊ opened letter. / answered.#oh no. oz in the kitchen.#oh no oh no...#terrible for gil gREAT FOR THE REST OF US#i love them so much ugh
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summer in the slums
Zack visits Aerith on a hot summer day to help her sell flowers at the park. However, their day together is cut short when Aerith falls ill.
(Zack/Aerith, 3,473 words, complete. AO3 link in the notes!)
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Summer in the slums may be safe from the sun and the haze that forms where it filters through the layer of steam the reactors put off, but it’s still almost unbearable, the air thick and heavy from the heat trapped under the plate with no way to escape. It’s hard to even breathe, and he’s barely been down there ten minutes before Zack is sweating through his uniform and wishing he’d come down in the evening instead, during actual rest hours when he wouldn’t have to wear it. Sure, he’d be bored now, with nothing to do during his limited free time besides hide in the cool of his apartment and play games, but boredom might be preferable to this stuffy, sweltering heat.
Still, he’s here to see Aerith, and that’s worth more than a little heat, no matter how uncomfortable the pullover sweater is at this temperature. Thinking of that is enough to put a smile back on his face and a spring back in his step as he heads for the church in Sector 5, and he hums to himself along the way, happy just to know he’ll get to spend some time with her.
The church is a small building, not much more than a house with a steeple tower attached, but it’s still lovely and elegant among the shabby buildings surrounding it, with tendrils of ivy creeping up the walls, the only burst of green among the grey and brown. He bounds up the small steps to the door and pushes it open to peek inside. Aerith is at the far end of the aisle, tending to the flowers growing up through the broken and rotted floorboards, so focused that she doesn’t notice him come in.
“Hey, Aerith!” he calls with a wave.
She lifts her head, startled, and the smile that spreads across her face makes his heart stumble and skip a beat, fluttering in his chest to catch up as he recovers. “Zack!” she says, beaming, and gets to her feet. “You didn’t say you’d be free today.”
“Only for a few hours,” he says, “and only if I don’t get called on a mission. But I wanted to say hi while I can!”
“I’m glad you came,” she says, and runs over to give him a hug. “How are you doing? You’ve been so busy lately, is everything alright?”
“The guys up top keep throwing more missions at me, but mostly just busywork,” he says, laughing. “Guess I’m less of a problem when I’ve got things to do.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” she says, shaking her head. “You should behave yourself. You’ll have more chances to come down here if they aren’t always sending you off on errands.”
“Maybe if I spend all my free time with you, they won’t keep sending me on so many errands,” he replies, grinning. “As long as something keeps me out of the way, right?”
She giggles, her nose crinkling up from how big her smile is. “I wouldn’t mind,” she says, “as long as you’ll help me selling flowers.”
“Of course I will,” he says, “but listen, it’s hot outside today. What do you think about hanging out inside this time?”
“It’s hot in here, too, silly,” she says. “It’s hot all the time during the summer.”
“I know, I know,” he says. “So I was thinking maybe, uh…”
He trails off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as his head catches up to his mouth and he realizes what he’s saying. He can’t just invite her over - he hasn’t even gotten a chance to take her to the city, so bringing her straight to his apartment seems a little fast. Not that other guys in SOLDIER don’t have girls up to their rooms all the time, but that’s different. Aerith isn’t just some girl, she’s Aerith, and his girlfriend.
“Hmm?” she asks after a moment, snapping him out of his thoughts. She’s watching him with bright, curious eyes, and he feels his cheeks heat up a little, though he hopes she can’t tell.
“Well - my place has climate control,” he says sheepishly. “I mean, we don’t have to do that, if you don’t want! But it might be nice to - to just hang out somewhere cooler, and, I don’t know…”
“Oh,” she says, looking away, and his heart sinks like a rock in a pond. “That’s really sweet of you, but I…”
“No, it’s okay,” he says quickly. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to -”
“Just not today, alright?” she says. “Maybe another time.” She must see his disappointment when she looks up, because she hurries to add, “It’s just that, well - it’s different, up there, isn’t it? So big, and with so many people, and I haven’t had time to….”
That, at least, he can understand, and he smiles as he throws his arm around her shoulders. “Good point. I don’t want you to get too overwhelmed.”
“But you’ll come sell flowers with me, won’t you?” she asks. “I was just checking on them to see which ones were in full bloom.”
“Of course I will,” he says. “Here, I’ll help carry the ones that are ready!”
He follows her to the flower patch and watches as she carefully cuts the brightest ones from their stems to hand over, filling his arms with yellow lilies. When she’s satisfied that she’s collected all the best blooms, she stands up and turns to look at him, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling. “Oh,” she says, laughing, “you look so -”
She breaks off, hesitating, her blush spreading over her nose as she looks away, embarrassed.
“What?” he asks, grinning through the bunch of flowers he’s holding.
“So...charming, with all those,” she says. “I bet every girl in town would want to get a flower from you.”
“Well, you know I’ll only give them out for a fair price,” he says, and winks.
“Zack!” she says, laughing, and swats his arm lightly. He pokes his tongue out through his teeth, laughing with her. When he goes to catch his breath, a faceful of floral fragrance and yellow pollen sticks in his nose and tickles, and he sneezes, which only makes Aerith dissolve again into helpless giggling.
“Come on,” he says, “we should get going, before they start to wilt in this weather.”
She nods and runs to grab a basket that’s sitting on one of the pews. “Here,” she says, holding it out. “Put them in here, I’ve been using this to sell them at the park since you still haven’t made me that wagon.”
“I will, I will!” he assures her as he puts the flowers into the basket. “I just need a real day off to do it, when I know I won’t get called in for a mission.”
“You should ask for a vacation!” she says. “Don’t you know everyone important up there?”
“Not well enough to ask for that!” he protests. “I think the director would just give me even more work.”
“I thought being 1st Class gave you authority,” she says lightly as she leads the way out of the church and towards the park. “Are you telling me even that big hero we hear about down here doesn’t get vacations?”
“What, you mean Sephiroth?” he asks, and scoffs. “Man, I don’t even wanna talk about it. He gets everything he wants.”
“I guess you still have a ways to go, huh?” she asks, giving him a mischievous smile. “But don’t worry, I’m cheering for you!”
He catches his breath as his heart skips and jumps, feeling like there’s sunlight flooding his chest even down here.
They make it to the park after a few more minutes of walking, and Aerith finds a place to sit down with the basket on her lap, looking around for anyone passing by. “Flowers for sale!” she calls when she sees a little girl and her mother walking down the road. “Flowers to brighten your day? Just one gil each!”
“Mama, can I?” asks the little girl, tugging on her mother’s hand.
“Well,” the woman says, frowning.
Zack grabs a flower and approaches, dropping to the girl’s height as he gets close to hold it out. “Here,” he says. “It’s a special sale, just for a cute little princess like you.”
“Zack!” Aerith calls, clearly flustered. “Don’t scare off my customers!”
“I’m not!” he says, and grins eagerly up at the mother. “One gil instead of three, just for you two?”
“Please, Mama,” the girl begs, looking up with wide eyes.
“Alright,” the woman says with a sigh and a faint smile, and reaches for her bag. “Do you want to buy it, sweetheart?”
The little girl takes a coin from her mother’s hand and holds it out to Zack, and he hands over the flower, patting her on the head as he gets to his feet. “Thanks for buying!” he says, and waves as they both continue down the street.
They manage to sell a few more flowers over the next hour or so - one to a scrawny young man with slicked-back hair, one to a woman bringing groceries home in a bag, even one to a man in a suit Zack swears he’s seen around the Shinra building before - before he notices how Aerith is starting to flag. Her face is paler than usual, and she doesn’t have the energy she did when they first arrived.
“Hey,” he says, running over to her side and sitting down next to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she murmurs. “It’s...just the heat.”
“You wanna go back to the church?” he asks, resting a hand carefully on her shoulder. “I think maybe it’s a little cooler in there, maybe that’ll help you feel better.”
She hesitates and nods, holding tight to the flower basket. “Maybe,” she agrees.
“Here,” he says, offering his arm. “Let me help you up.”
He can feel her shaking a little as he pulls her to her feet, but he doesn’t want to mention it; she’s clearly trying so hard to seem like she’s alright, and it feels like it would be cruel more than anything to point out that she’s not. Instead he just puts his arm around her shoulders to walk with her slowly, ready to catch her if she stumbles but content otherwise to let her manage on her own. She’s a tough girl, he reminds himself, though it doesn’t quite silence the worry nagging at the back of his mind. She can take care of herself.
They’re halfway back to the church when she stops, looking unsteady on her feet and leaning against his side. “Aerith?” he asks, looking over at her and moving his hand to support her if she falls, but rather than swaying on her feet she’s leaning just to one side, her spine straight and her shoulders suddenly tense under his arm.
She makes a faint sound in her throat, but doesn’t answer, and despite the heat he feels a chill go through him. The look on her face is foreign and eerily blank, her eyes unfocused and her mouth half-open as she presses up against him.
“Aer? You okay?” he asks again, and her whole body jerks, her head twisting sideways and slamming into his ribs.
He grabs her under the arm as she spasms again and pitches forward, collapsing against him as her knees give out. His heart is pounding in his throat, but he tries to keep himself steady as he slowly lowers her to the ground, checking first for any rocks or bits of scrap and refuse that could hurt her. When he reaches for her hand, her fingers close tight around his and won’t relax, her nails biting into the side of his hand.
“Okay, there we go,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady as he lays her down on her back. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m here.” He’s never seen anything like this happen, but he knows what he’d do if a fellow SOLDIER or infantryman was sick or injured suddenly out in the field - stay calm, try to keep them stable, and get help as soon as he could.
Of course, it’s harder to stay calm when all he expected to happen was a few hours of time spent quietly with his girlfriend. In the field, he has to be ready for something to go wrong, but now he’s reeling from it, like the ground’s been swept out from under his feet and he’s falling.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he mutters, trying to reassure himself as much as Aerith. She gasps and whimpers as her head jerks, closed eyes flickering rapidly behind the lids. Cursing himself for not thinking faster, he carefully lifts her shoulders with one hand so he can slide the other under her head. At least that should make sure she doesn’t crack her skull on the ground, though he can’t help worrying he may have been too late to stop her getting a concussion.
If they were in Midgar proper, he’d tell someone to call a medic, but down here he knows there’s no one to call. People in Sector 5 come to Aerith when they need healing or patching up, he’s seen them at the church coming to visit her, and if anyone else even might be able to help her, he doesn’t know who it would be. All he can do is sit next to her, cradling her head in his hand and waiting for the spasms wracking her body to stop.
A minute later she takes a shuddering breath and then goes limp, slumping to the ground with her cheek pressing into his hand. He stares, trying to breathe in time with the slight rise and fall of her chest, but he doesn’t actually start to relax until she stirs and opens her eyes.
“Zack…?” she asks, dazed, her voice unsteady. “Wh...what…?”
“Shh, shh, don’t try to talk,” he says. “Just lay down for a minute, okay? Don’t try to get up yet.”
She blinks at him slowly and nods.
“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching for her hand.
“Umm,” she says, frowning. “I...think so.”
“Take it easy,” he says as she tries to sit up. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’m okay,” she assures him, though her voice is still small and uncertain.
“Has that ever happened before?” he asks. “The - the - I think you passed out, and then…”
“A couple of times,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t - I didn’t want you to see…”
“You should’ve said you weren’t feeling right,” he says softly, brushing her bangs back from her face.
“It’s not really that serious,” she says, giving him a shaky smile. “I don’t want you to worry, I’m okay now, see?”
“You just collapsed and had a fit,” he says, shaking his head. “Of course I’m gonna worry.”
“Don’t be silly,” she says. “I’ve had them before, and I’m fine otherwise, aren’t I?”
He raises an eyebrow at her, but doesn’t argue. “You think you can get up?” he asks, offering his hand.
She nods and takes his arm as she pulls herself to her feet. He puts his arm around her shoulders again to support her, and tugs on her hand to let her arm rest around his waist. “I’m fine now,” she says, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Let’s get you back to the church, at least,” he says. “Unless you’d rather go home? I can take you home, too, if you want.”
“The church is fine,” she says with a faint smile. “I’m...really sorry, Zack. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Don’t worry about it so much,” he says giving her a small smile. “Let’s just get you inside, alright?”
She leans against him as they make their way up the road, back towards the church, walking slowly so she doesn’t have to rush to keep up. A block away, she shudders and goes tense, spasms wracking her shoulder and arm again. He holds her hand tightly, ready to catch her if she falls, but though she leans against him heavily she manages to keep her footing.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs again after a moment, looking down at the ground. “I don’t want you to have to take care of me.”
“I don’t have to take care of you,” he says, giving her a worried look. “I want to. You’re - well, important to me.”
He can feel himself blushing as he says it, thinking he could say more than that if he wasn’t so nervous to admit it, but he hopes she doesn’t look up long enough to see it. If she does, she’s polite enough not to say anything, or else just too tired. All she says in return is the faintest murmur of, “Thank you, Zack.”
“Of course,” he says, hugging her closer. “I mean it, you know! I want to look after you.”
They have to stop once more when she jerks and starts to seize, but it only lasts a few seconds this time, and they reach the church after a few more minutes. He leads her gently inside, helping her down the aisle to sit down beside the flowers. She pulls on his hand to make him sit down next to her and leans against his side, her fingers laced between his.
“I’ll be alright now,” she says, squeezing his hand tightly. “You really don’t need to worry.”
“Does that happen a lot?” he asks. “Do you know why it happened just now?”
“Shh,” she says, reaching up to press a finger against his mouth, silencing him. “Just… sit here with me, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, and she closes her eyes as she rests her head on his shoulder.
“It doesn’t happen often,” she says after a few long moments. “Just a few times before. I sort of… hoped I’d outgrown them, but…”
“What causes it?” he asks.
She shrugs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never known, they just… happen, sometimes.”
“That’s pretty scary,” he says, rubbing her shoulder with one hand.
“Not really,” she replies. “I can usually tell when they’re going to happen, so it’s not such a shock.”
“Not today, though?” he asks, frowning. “Isn’t that bad?”
“Well,” she says, looking off to the side, her teeth worrying at her lip.
“Aerith,” he says, frowning harder.
“I didn’t want you to worry!” she says quickly. “I thought maybe the heat was just getting to me, I didn’t want…”
She trails off, turning her face away as her shoulders slump a little.
“I didn’t want you to know about it,” she finishes very quietly. “I don’t want you to have to worry, or - or think something’s wrong with me, or…”
His chest goes tight and he feels like his heart is breaking. “I want to look out for you,” he says. “I can’t have you making yourself sick or getting hurt just because you want to seem tough. I already know you’re tough.”
“It’s not that,” she says, shaking her head, “it’s just -”
“What?” he prompts when she doesn’t finish.
“Well, you came all the way down here to see me, and I know you don’t have much time,” she says with a shaky smile. “I don’t want to waste it by being sick.” She sighs and leans against his shoulder again, closing her eyes. “Just don’t worry about me so much, alright?”
“Only if you promise you’ll say something next time,” he says sternly, or as sternly as he can manage with Aerith. “I can’t be here to take care of you if I don’t know something’s wrong.”
She hesitates before nodding. “Okay,” she says. “If it will make you stop worrying, I’ll let you know.”
“Good,” he says, pulling her close and leaning his head against hers. “Even if it means we stay here and relax, I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter to me what we do, any time I spend with you isn’t wasted.”
She laughs at that, pressing her face into his shoulder to hide her blush, but not before he sees her cheeks turn pink. “Don’t be silly!” she says, hugging him tightly. “You’re just flattering me, that’s all.”
“No way!” he says, grinning, and tugs lightly on a loose curl of her hair, making her giggle again as she tries to bat his hand away.
“Well, I’m glad you think so,” she says after a moment, smiling at the toes of her shoes, still trying to hide her blushing face. She ducks her head a little, rocking one foot back and forth as she tucks herself shyly into her shoulders, and her voice is very quiet, but he can still just make out her murmur of, “I think so, too.”
#final fantasy vii#zack fair#Aerith Gainsborough#zerith#crisis core#ffvii#willwrites#hopefully these are effective tags for this kfjhkdh
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one half of the mold fold, with his black ball cap pulled over his eyes, leaned against that vending machine lazily as he pulled that trackphone© out of his jacket pocket. the sounds of ToonBlast© immediately filled the air, though it wasn't time to spiral into a quick round. he was waiting for––
@thegillionaire || mission 001: SNART AND RORY TAKE THE LAUNDROMAT [aka let’s snatch these identities fam]
it was the perfect cover-- he was the current undesignated guardian of snacks, waiting on his laundry to dry. for an added bonus there was actually a set of laundry he had switched over for an unsuspecting customer in their absence, congrats, and just in case there were any doubters in that building. there was no such thing as too cautious anymore. though that idea did conflict with the current mission at hand. argumentative, and with a clenched fist, Han was apprehensive in joining Gilbert for something as simple as identity retrievals. in the past, secret identities were already supplied in a folder, the end no question about it.
but in this case, it was for the entire Syndicate. he supposed Gil needed help carrying a damn briefcase or binder. nothing says camaraderie like joining your favorite torture buddy down the rabbit hole of the black market to gather false documents and the like for wanted mutants of the Sector of Humanity. it wasn't the result he craved, but it was a step in the direction to finding those asshats who flipped his world upside down. footsteps approached, and he tilted his head to the side to address the man. he groaned out his complaint.
"Can we please make this quick?" not that he had anywhere to be, in fact, his willingness to complete said mission was out of sheer boredom from being confined to such a small temporary living space with two people who either wanted to murder each other or make out and Rowan. the only other option he had at his disposal was bothering Min, which would lead him to lay on a leather couch staring at an aquarium while classical music played in the background.
"My patience for idiots has run dry lately, you understand." he sighed, a twinge of spite in his words, as Gil was still not completely forgiven for his refrigerator heists. "We'll have to empty this shit machine of Cheetos or I may die of starvation or has the Grocery Goblin retired for mission night? OR does he apologize while treating his wonderful friend to moldy pancakes after all this?"
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Truck
Laguna initially has a truck in Winhill. He acquires it from an old man in Timber (he gets it when he goes to Timber Maniacs with Kiros) who just couldn’t use the truck anymore. The man’s eyesight had gotten bad enough to the point that driving would be dangerous, so he gives it to Laguna for the mighty sum of 100 gil, mainly because he found Laguna so inspiring. (The 100 gil was so he could get lunch later, heh heh, he honestly would’ve given it to Laguna for free)
Laguna accepts the truck, which makes traveling for groceries that Winhill just doesn’t carry all the more easier.
When he goes to rescue Ellone Laguna ends up selling the truck for around 5000 gil to a man in Dollet, the funds help Laguna and co to kick start their rescue adventure.
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Ultimate Ship Meme: Lefay & Mahji
General:
Rate the Ship -
Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - Until we want to reroll, if that ever happens.
How quickly did they fall in love? - Way too fast but it worked for them.
How was their first kiss? - Amazing, Lefay still daydreams about it. Also see above picture.
Wedding: N/A, Lefay don’t do weddings.
Who proposed? -
Who is the best man/men? -
Who is the braid’s maid(s)? -
Who did the most planning? -
Who stressed the most? -
How fancy was the ceremony? -
Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? -
Sex:
Who is on top? - Even mix of both of them.
Who is the one to instigate things? - I think Lefay slightly more than Mahji but only slightly.
How healthy is their sex life?
Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
How kinky are they? -
Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head
How long do they normally last? - Probably average, I didn’t actually think about this until now.
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Lefay tries her best but she usually ends up with a bit more.
How rough are they in bed? - This really varies...
Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -
No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.
Children:
How many children will they have naturally? - As many as Lefay can get out of him if she has her way. Realistically probably like 6 tops.
How many children will they adopt? - Zero unless you count Mahji adopting any other kits Lefay has with other men but I don’t really count that.
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Lefay, she’s dealt with a lot of bodily fluids as a healer and Mahji is a bit squeamish.
Who is the stricter parent? - Mahji, Lefay will cave and spoil way too easily.
Who stops the kids from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Lefay, though chances are she won’t stop it either.
Who remembers to pack the lunches? - Lefay will insist on making the food for them as much as possible.
Who is the more loved parent? - Equal!
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - N/A
Who cried the most at graduation their coming of age ceremonies? - Lefay cried the most, though Mahji’s eyes weren’t completely dry either.
Who is more likely to bail the children out of trouble with the law? - Lefay would, by asking Saheena to do it.d
Cooking:
Who does the most cooking? - Lefay without a doubt, she loves cooking.
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Lefay, she won’t eat meat or any kind of animal flesh at all.
Who does the grocery shopping? - Lefay buys it and Mahji carries it.
How often do they bake desserts? - Way too often.
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat for Mahji, salad for Lefay.
Who is more likely to surprise the others with an anniversary dinner? - I’m not sure aniversaries are on either of their radars but more likely Mahji than Lefay since Lefay doesn’t even really know what an aniversary is in a romantic context.
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - I think this is an equal split.
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Mahji but they both have such good control over flames that this isn’t likely for either of them.w
Chores:
Who cleans the room? - Lefay but Mahji helps out of course. She’s just the one to actually start doing it.
Who is really against chores? - Neither.
Who cleans up after the pets? - Lefay but Mahji helps.
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Neither.
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Lefay unquestionably.
Who found a dollar handful of gil between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Mahji, and it was left there by Lefay.
Misc:
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - About equal, in part because they bathe together more often than not.
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They walk together!
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Never.
What are their goals for the relationship? - So. Many. Babs.
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Mahji, though Lefay’s much more likely to nap.
Who plays the most pranks? - Lefay doesn’t really know what pranks are and would be terrible at them so Mahji.
No one sent me the ask, I just wanted to do it.
@wmahji-tia-ffxiv
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Nightmare Before Christmas
"Toni! It's almost Christmas!" Austria gushed, taking Spain's hand and swinging it with his own. Antonio flushed and quickly turned away.
"It's December First," Spain muttered, snatching his hand back. "Plus, I don't celebrate Christmas."
Roderich gasped, clutching at his heart. "You don't!?" Antonio rolled his eyes.
"No, I celebrate Three Kings Day in January," he said. "I tell you this every year."
"Yeah, and it's always just as shocking to me!" Austria sighed. "You know, just because you don't celebrate doesn't mean you have to be a Grinch."
Antonio could help but smile. "I prefer to think of myself as an Ebenezer Scrooge," he said. "Getting haunted by ghost sounds cooler than stealing Christmas. And who would want to have a bunch of expensive consumerist bull anyway?"
Roderich raised an eyebrow. "'Consumerist bull'? Is that what Christmas reminds you of?"
Spain blinked. "Well, yeah. Feli and Jackass are big on Christmas. Feli's always making too much food and coming to my place uninvited to tell me how much family matters and stuff. Boss is more concerned with making a fancy presepe and getting Epiphany presents cheap."
"But that's not how we celebrate!" Austria said. "In Austria and some other German places we have this thing on the Fifth called Krampus Night where we dress as these evil demon minions of Santa who beat bad kids with crops!"
"Wait, what?"
"You heard me! One year we all went and Lud dressed up and scared the others so bad Lili suplexed him and Vash shot him in the face," Roderich beamed.
Antonio gaped. "That sounds... Awesome!"
"Well, compared to the Christmas you know. I haven't even gotten to Frau Perchta, but that's a story for another day," Roderich grinned. "My favorite part of the Holidays is trying to scare Gilbert. Sadly, it only works, like, twenty percent of the time."
"Well yeah. Gil seems to have some kind of a nerve of steel," Antonio smirked, "but I know who'd be easier and more fun to scare."
Roderich hummed, suddenly excited. That was a dangerous smirk, and Spain's "playful" side was not to be taken lightly. Ever.
"I'm listening."
-----
Francis, too, was excited for Christmas in his own respect. It was just about time to start decorating for the Holidays, and he loved making the clay figures for his crèches. Sometimes he sold some in the Christmas Market, and he could use the extra money to buy Fête des Rois presents. There was just so much to look forward to!
As he went to find his sculpting clay and paints, he could've sworn he heard something fall in the other room. Now France was no coward, but he might've maybe jumped just a bit, and something grazed his arm.
France nearly stumbled out of his closet space and tripped and fell on his back just as quickly. He looked up, and found nothing out of the ordinary. The thing that had brushed against him was just an old outfit he got from Canada, the thing he tripped over was some wood for his crèche, poorly placed by his fault. Francis sighed. He still felt like something was off, but played it off as an overactive imagination.
He picked up the wood and went into the other room to investigate the noise from earlier. Nothing seemed out of place, but a fallen book, but he couldn't shake off that weird feeling. Almost as if on cue, the lights went off with a flick. Feeling panic raise in his throat, Francis quickly went to turn the lights back on, only to be disappointed when the room stayed unlit.
"A cut wire?" He asked no one in particular.
"Or the spirits of the season here to make you repent," came a deep growl in reply.
France couldn't help but scream as he threw the wood he was holding in the direction of the voice. It hit something with a 'thud', and he took that as a sign to scramble out the room. Every light in the house was flickering in no particular order or pattern, but that barely caught Francis' attention.
What really scared him was a suit of armor unhooking itself from the wall. Slowly, it reared its head and Francis saw two red glowing eyes. Francis froze. His heart began racing, but it seems his nerves completely fried and he couldn't move. As the rest of the suit moved towards him, he felt a hand make it's way up his neck. He shivered.
And the lights finally cut out.
-----
Katyusha liked spending time with her siblings around this time of year, even if they didn't celebrate their Christmas this month. Perhaps she thought they could prepare for New Year together, or just appreciate the fact it wasn't quite as cold as it would be in January. Whatever the reason, the fact was she always went to Ivan first, and she always insisted on him helping her knit.
"I want to make Sestra a scarf," she said.
Ivan raised an eyebrow. "More than a month before Christmas?" Ukraine nodded.
"It gets cold just around January," she smiled, "and I don't want to give it to her after the cold season starts."
So Russia agreed, deciding to ignore—for Ukraine's sake—the fact that it was always cold and that Belarus was weird enough to Cossack in a blizzard wearing practically nothing. Once inside, Ukraine headed towards the living room and Russia excused himself to answer his ringing phone.
"Allo?"
"Do you believe in fate?" Came a low voice from the other end.
Ivan blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Do you believe in fate?"
Ivan was confused. The number was unknown and the voice unfamiliar. He might have to do some hacking later. "Who is this?"
"Non-believers shall pay. Sinners shall repent. Fake prophets such as yourself pay with their lives." And suddenly the call ended.
Ivan barely had time to process that before a gunshot sounded from outside and a scream was heard from the living room. Hesitating only a moment, he put his phone down and went to check on his sister.
Ukraine had heard the gunshot, but that hadn't been why she screamed. No, she screamed because she'd quickly had a sack thrown over her head and was picked up like she weighed nothing.
"Ivan!" She cried, but she was muffled slightly by the sack. She felt herself being carried down some stairs and she knew she must've been taken to the basement. She was laid on the floor, where—after hearing the door close—she quickly took off the sack and ran towards the door.
It had been jammed. She jiggled the knob but it wouldn't budge. Desperate, she banged the door.
"Ivan!"
Russia had to ignore the blood streaming down the basement stairs when he heard Katyusha call him. "Katyusha?" He called back, trying not to sound panicky. He was the older one, after all.
"Brat, I want out!" Katyusha cried. Ivan sighed, a bit relieved. He would've been more worried if she wasn't crying.
"Alright, hang on. Just get away from the door a moment." He went to unlock the door, but it still wouldn't open. He reached under the door to find wood blocks crammed under the door. He removed them and immediately the blood(or was that wine?) starting spilling into the basement.
Ivan when went in calmly, assuring Katyusha that everything was already, the door closed again. Russia heard it. The click of a lock.
"Shit."
"Do you know how to pick it?" Ukraine asked, panicky. "You can do anything, surely you could do this!"
"I'm a tech guy," he replied. "Not a criminal and not a miracle worker."
As Ivan started helping Ukraine wipe away her tears, lights flickered on. Confused, Russia looked up to see speakers in each corner. Then it started playing.
-----
Prussia didn't like coming home during the holiday season. Someone was bound to try and scare him at some point. In increasingly annoying ways, he might add.
When his lights didn't switch on upon him coming in, he knew today would be the day. He sighed, put his groceries on the counter, and prepared for the worst. Or worst attempts, seeing as he was used to it all by now.
He didn't flinch when the hand danged up against the window. He closed the curtains. He scream at the blood that flowed from his tap. He grabbed a bottle instead. He didn't jump at his reflection making scary faces at him in the mirror. He make faces back.
Finally, he was finished. "I know you're saving some shit. So hurry up and get on with it."
Almost as if on cue, the window reopened and three bats flew directly towards him. He dodged two and swatted the other one off of his face. Carefully placed red lights began to light the room, and scratch marks began to appear on the walls.
Bell sounds rang out, a couple flaming hands bursted from random places on the floor, and the lights began to flicker. But Gilbert stood his ground. Finally, with a couple flares, he appeared, covered in fur from head to toe. He cackled, holding a whip, ready to strike. He aimed it directly at Gil.
Prussia caught it, the leather cracking against his hand. "Merry Christmas, Austria."
And with that, Roderich lost it. "God dammit! Do you not a single fear in this world!"
Gilbert allowed himself to smirk a bit. "None that you've found."
Austria grumbled, throwing off his mask. "See! I told you he's hard to scare!"
Antonio emerged from the closet, holding a laptop and looking nothing but befuddled. "Damn. I used all my best stuff for this, too."
"Oh, I should've known," Prussia groaned. "Antonio does the backstage stuff in your stupid plays. You couldn't have pulled off something so elaborate on your own."
"Yes I could've, you dumb albino whore! And my plays are not stupid," Austria huffed. "At least not as stupid as your dumb knight stories."
"You take that back!"
"Make me!"
With Roderich and Gilbert arguing(yet again), Antonio had nothing to do but complain about all the props he wasted. He slowly shut off all his traps and turned the lights back on. All that and they didn't even get blackmail of Prussia. What a wasted night.
"If you guys are done, would you please get out of my house. When the mob comes after you two, I want them anywhere but here."
"Whatever," Austria sighed, reaching to pick up his whip. A roach crawl out from under it before he could, though. "Ew, that's-"
And before he could finish, a high pitched screeched pierced through the air.
-----
"I cannot believe you two did something like this!" Lili chastised. "You used all my expensive wine!"
"That's what you bring up first?" Italy questioned.
"I'll tell you what you dumbasses did wrong," Lovino stepped in. "You scared Francis half to death, Katyusha keeps crying about the horrors of vaporwave/disco, Ivan is so stressed from trying to blow up your speakers—which are still somehow playing your satanic Rasputin—that Vash gave him a box of his stress Cheez-Its, and Gilbert is a sobbing mess in Ludwig's arms!"
"I think my siblings are fine," Belarus pointed out. "They're quite used to being scarred, after all."
"I know, I'm just trying to make a point that what they did was bad."
"I don't know, I thought it was impressive," Germany said, awkwardly rocking Prussia.
"Dear God, please don't encourage them," Feliciano half-pleaded.
"I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal about it!" Austria blurted. "It's such a me thing to do."
"More like a little shit thing to do," Ludwig said, "but you are a little shit, so..."
"What are you trying to do?" Lovino snapped.
"Bih, it's winter break. I'm not trying to do anything."
"Our point is, we're very disappointed in you two," Liechtenstein finished.
Walking home Vash grumbled, "You owe me a box of Cheez-Its."
"I swear," Gilbert whispered to Germany, "I am going to bleach all of his dry clean only dresses."
"Oh shit." Something told Ludwig there was gonna be a lot of fighting in his future.
"Uh, Francis," Spain started, "I'm sorry I scared you that much. I didn't think you'd react like that. I tried to go easy on you."
France smiled. "That's alright, Toño! Just know, this is why no one loves you!"
"Francis!" Romano yelled.
"Huh? What'd I say?"
"Oh, wait!" Austria suddenly stopped and ran back towards the latins. "Toni, I forgot to give you something!"
Antonio blinked. "You did? What?"
Roderich smirked, leaned in, and pecked Antonio on the cheek. "My gift! Merry Christmas, sexy." And with that, he was skipping back towards his family.
Lovino hummed. "Correction, one person loves him."
"Hello? Spain?" Veneziano said, waving his face in front of his face. "Earth to Antonio?"
"Oh, I am so taking a picture."
"Lovino!"
#reverse caretaker au#hetalia#axis powers hetalia#fanfic#submission#JAHESYSN THIS IS AMAZING#I LOVE IT THANK YOU#i laughed at the prussia part so gd hard#and the innocent ‘thats why no one loves you’ from france literally killed me
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The Perfect Gift
Not rly much of a fanfic writer but did one for fun for @princettegil
DRAGON KNIGHTS FANFIC
Pairing: Ramganas x Gil
Mostly cute, some fluff, sfw, slice of life, iunno how the fanfic community tags stuff
Summary: mixing canon with modern day, Ramganas gives Gil a new phone for safety measures. Gil ponders on all the things Ramganas has done for him and tries to find the perfect gift to show his gratitude, but can he find something that this new hi-tech phone can't already do??
====================================
"Bag?"
"Check."
"Wallet?"
"In the bag."
"Shopping list?
"Right here." Gil produced a folded piece of paper that was then visibly slipped into his own pocket.
"Phone?"
Gil revealed the new phone given to him by Ramganas from his other pocket, but not without an incredulous expresion. He still was not so familiar with such tehnology but Ramganas insisted he get one after some previous ... unfavorable encounters with past faces he'd rather forget.
"You remembered how to use it like I showed you?"
"Yeah," Gil lied. No matter. He lived without one all this time that another day or two wouldn't make a different while he was still getting the hang of it. And if he admitted it now Ramganas will all too willingly repeat a meticulous demonstration that Gil wasn't willing to go through right now.
"Good. I got a few errands to take care of myself but you call me if anything happens. Anything at all and I will be right there." Ramganas wrapped his hand behind Gil's head and pulled him gently for a forehead kiss.
"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Gil assured his lover. "Not like I'm going to get attacked at a fruit stand or anything. Well i'm not going to hold you up any longer. I know you can't be late either."
This time it was Gil's turn two softly lean in for a small kiss on the lips. "See you tonight."
With that Gil turned out the door for the long trek to the downtown market.
The trek down, although long, passed in no time as Gil knew the way like the back of his hand and usually zoned out until the sounds and smells of the town called him back to his senses.
Much time has past since he left his abusive ex but he was still uncomfortable hanging around in super social space for too long. Most of the time Gil just acquired whatever he needed and then left.
But today he was in a good mood. Well... honestly since moving in with Ramganas there had been more days like this. It was almost like a dream come true that he couldn't fathom just a few years ago. He was truly blessed to be reuited with Ramganas and live this peaceful ordinary life that he had always thought impossible.
A sudden flood of emotions overcame him thinking about all they had been through, and what Ramgans still does for him now.
"I should do something to return the favor," Gil stated his whim-decided desire aloud.
Gil traversed down the bustling streets of the south side of town. There were a lot of different stores this time around from what Gil remembered. Then again, he tried not coming down unless necessary and even so, didn't really pay attention. But it seemed that previous construction were completed, old business replaced with new ones, and quaint pop up shops and stores were rejeuvinating the life of this usually quiet town. It was becomming more lively.
For once Gil was in no hurry to complete his grocery shopping now tha another thought preoccupied his mind. What could he get for Ramganas?
This led to a subsequent train of trying to recall every detail of his lover all at once. What was his favorite color? His daily routine? Did he complain about needing anything recently? What could really express Gil's appreciation?
Ramganas had always been so attentive to Gil's needs, especially as Gil was trying to work through his own blocks of amnesia caused from past traumas.
When no answers started jumping out, Gil could feel his frustration settling in. But he was determined to bring a gift back one way or another, and that desire was stronger than his own disappointment in himself.
"Maybe I'll just browse until I see something that Ram would like."
Gil perused the store fronts, peeking through windows for the type of contents each had held. And with each item, he thought how it would relate to Ramganas. One window particularly caught his eye. A window of fantastically decorated watches.
"Oh! Perhaps this would do!" As much as Ramganas was meticulously detail-oriented when it came to Gil, he was rather absent minded about his own affairs. Often this would result in Ramganas having a rather laid-back approach to time for his own appointments.
"He can finally keep proper timing with this.--" but no sooner than he got his hopes up imagining his lover's happy face, he recalled that Ramganas had mention that one of the phone's capabilities was to display the time, as well as setting off alarms when needed. It already would have the functional ability to meet Ramganas's needs. Dejectedly, Gil pulled himself away from the storefront window and carried on.
As Gil continued his search with an even stronger determination, chiming notes tickled his ears. Following the direction for the source he spotted and open table vendor selling hand carved musical boxes.
"Ramganas loves music!" Gil proclaimed excitedly to himself. In fact Ramganas was a lover of all the arts and Gil had the joy of being taken to museum and concert dates.
"Perhaps I should get him a music box."
And then, Gil once again recalled Ramganas's all-too-thorough phone demonstration. It could play it too and Ram had already taken the liberty of installing an extensive music library into it.
With another heavy sigh, Gil pressed on.
Gil's mind wound faster and faster. What started as a leisurely day out was quickly becoming stressful as Gil's ideas for a peefect gift one by one were being upstaged by a new technology he had yet to figure out. "There's got to be something I can get that this thing can't already do."
A camera? No Ram already demonstrated the great photographic features of the thing using Gil as his personal model. A journal or art sketchbook? Nope, these things apparently had "apps" that could accomplish the task with no mess.
Nothing. Nothing Gil could think of this blasted brick couldn't already accomplish for Ramganas. All of which Ramganas already knew how to access whereas Gil still had much to learn.
Finally with a huff Gil decided to give up for now and at least accomplish what he had set out to do. Making his way to the familiar part of town where the food markets were located, Gil executed his best skill for the task which a phone certainly couldn't replicate, finding the best deals and bargains for all their necessary grocery items.
Once the necessary tasks were accomplished, Gil readied himself for the trek back. There was no longer any reason to linger, and he just about convinced himself in defeat for his side mission of acquiring a present for Ramganas.
But a part of him still didn't want to accept it. There had to be SOMETHING he could get. As if to answer his deepest desire of the moment, a storefront window caught his eye. It was a arts and craft store. Gil stared at it for a good long moment before the idea hit him.
"Of course! A phone certainly cannot replicate a hand-crafted item!" The thought of victory over technology pleased him and he went inside...
~~~
Ramganas heaved a tired sigh as his day's work came to an end. It was past sunset, the errands took much longer than he would have liked. With the sweat dripping down from the heat of the day, dealing with rude personalities, and being beyond hungry at this point, there was nothing he wanted more than to be home this instant with his sweet lover. He really wanted to hear Gil's voice right now.
A small grin crossed his face. Maybe he should give a pop quiz to test his boyfriend's knowledge of using the phone. He popped his own out and began dialing the digits.
Ring
Ring
Ring
"The number you are calling is not available. Please leave a message after the beep."
"That's strange... but maybe he just doesn't know how to answer. Let me try again."
No answer. Again and again.
A sudden fear crept under his skin. Why wasn't Gil answering? What if something happened to him?
The moment that thought entered his mind, Ramganas began to sprint his way back. *Please be okay!!*
At the door, Ramganas's fingers fumbled anxiously for the keys as he unlocked the door and threw it open.
"GIL!!"
The sight that greeted him was... not what he expected.
Gil, sitting on the floor, wide-eyed and frozen from the sudden burst, and seemingly entagled in... ribbons?
Ramganas stood with mouth slightly agape, "What is going on?"
"I.." Gil started, "I was trying to...But it didn't.. I didn't know how to...." the cat-like lover averted his gaze in shame and embarassment as he tried go hold back tears from falling. "... for you..." he managed to squeeze out in a pathetic mew.
In that moment Ramganas understood. His tall form swept across the room and wrapped his arms around his lover. "You are the greatest gift I have ever received." He squeezed tightly and could feel warm drops of wetness fall on his shoulder. Letting go to get a good look at the face of the one trying so hard to please him, "And look! You even gift-wrapped yourself up for me!" Ramganas laughed, which helped ease Gil into a small smile.
"That... wasn't my plan but glad you like my gift." Gil responded through a tear-soaked smile.
"Always." Ramganas whispered as he softly kissed Gil's forehead, then drew his face in close to kiss his lover's lips passionately.
As they gazed into each other's eyes filled with love and passion, Gil smiled and whispered softly, "care to help untie me now?"
At this suggestion Ramganas smirked mischeivously, "Opening gifts is my favorite part. How about we continue this in the bedroom?" Without waiting for a response, Ramganas scooped Gil's body into his arms and carried him princess-style into his room, making sure to close the door behind.
#dragon knights#fanfiction#fanfic#ramganas#laamgarnas#gil#ramxgil#laamxgil#my fic#my writing#long post sorry on my phone and couldnt do a read-more#ill try to edit later?
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Like Father, Like Son
Request: Could you do a Harry x reader where they have a child around 4 or 5 and while the reader is at the store she leaves them with their kid and she comes back to Harry giving her/him a mini hook and tries to teach them to sword fight?
Warnings: Cute Daddy!Harry, lots and lots of cute Daddy!Harry
Words: 1,366
A/N: I love these sorts of fics omg I was hoping someone would request something like this! Thank you so much for requesting!
Harry Hook was a lot of things. He was psychotic. He was impulsive. He had a thirst for violence and he was well-known around the Isle for his explosive temper. He followed Uma like a puppy dog, but he was no follower. Despite all of this, he was a great boyfriend, even though others didn’t see it. You did, he just wasn’t exactly the most affectionate of boyfriends, to the point where the Harry the world saw was a cold and distant boyfriend.
So that’s why when word got around that you were pregnant with Harry Hook’s baby, the words ‘loving dad’ was not what came to mind. Most people were afraid that he’d end up hooking the kid in the middle of the night during a colic episode. It was either that or he’d just up and leave you to care for the baby yourself.
But the Isle once again got another surprise: Harry Hook was an amazing father. Upon you going into labor, while even you thought he’d be running around like a chicken with his head cut-off, he was calm and collected, having everything ready and planned out. He knew just what to say to calm you down in your labor, and after your son was born, he did everything he could to make your life just a little easier.
He did late night store runs. You both took turns to change diapers. He got you as many pillows as he could find on the Isle so when you nursed the baby you would be comfortable. He even saved up enough money to get a small house by the docks. “A ship is no place ta raise a baby! He could fall in the water! We’re moving. End of discussion.” He had said.
Overall: Harry Hook was a great dad. And your son absolutely adored his father, similar to the way that Harry adored his own dad. Just about every day your son begged to follow Harry to the ship, although you just weren’t comfortable with that yet since your son was still in that overly hyper stage and he didn’t think much of the dangers of being on a pirate ship.
“Aye, Henry, listen to ye mother. If she says no, that means no. Don’t ye argue with ‘er.” Harry would tell him, although he would never let your young son know that he agreed completely.
One day, you realized you needed to do your weekly grocery shopping, although you really didn’t want to bring Henry along with you. You loved your son, but even you had to admit that taking a four-year-old grocery shopping was a bad idea. “Harry, baby, will you watch Henry while I go shopping?” You asked, watching as Harry looked up from the television.
“Aye, sure, love. When do ye think ye’ll be back?” He asked.
You thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know, to be honest. I won’t be too long though, I’ll be back in time to fix supper.” You said, smiling as Henry ran in from his room with an old toy that Gil had gotten him, Henry jumping onto the couch next to Harry. “Henry, mommy’s going shopping. I’ll be home soon, listen to your father.” You said, smiling and going to kiss his head.
“Bye mommy!” Henry said, kissing you on the cheek before you grabbed your things to head out. You had moved off the Isle about a year before, so you were now living in Auradon as a happy little family, which made life about a hundred times easier since you didn’t have to worry about getting robbed every time you close your eyes.
Not long after you left, Harry went and looked out the window to make sure you were gone before looking at your son. “Aye, I got a present for ye, lad.” Harry said, going into the bedroom you both shared, your son running after him.
“A present? For me? Really daddy?” Henry said as he followed Harry, going to sit on the bed as Harry went to dig in the closet.
“Aye, I did. But ye can’t tell yer mum about it. So this is going ta be our dirty little secret, alright Henry?” Harry said, looking back at Henry who nodded and pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key, Harry chuckling before getting a small box that was very poorly wrapped, going over to Henry and sitting down next to him. “I wanted to wait for yer birthday next month, but I figured now’s as good a time as ever,” Harry said, watching as the young child shook the box to figure out what it was.
“What is it?” Henry asked curiously. The young boy looked up at his father and watched as he motioned to the box to tell him to open it, finally tearing open the wrapping and opening the box that was inside, screaming with joy when he saw what it was. “A hook a hook! It’s like yours, daddy!” Henry said, grabbing it and bouncing up and down.
Harry laughed at the young boy’s excitement, reaching over and patting his back. “Calm down, son! Ye’ll poke an eye out and then yer mother will have me head on a stick!” Harry laughed, watching as he swung it around as any child would. “Careful with that. Now Henry, listen to me, son.” Harry said, making the child stop to look at him. “That isn’t a toy ta play with like ye other toys, son. Ye can’t just swing it around, ye can hurt yerself or someone else.” Harry told him.
“Then what can I do with it, daddy?” Little Henry asked as he looked up at his father.
“Well, as of right now ye can just carry it around like what daddy does with his hook. I just don’t want ye gettin’ hurt, son…so no running while you have it in ye hand, okay? When yer a little older then we’ll see.” Harry said, just wanting to let his son know that he could seriously get hurt with that if he didn’t go about it carefully.
Henry frowned, but gave a nod since he could tell his father was being serious. “Okay, daddy…” He said sadly, holding the hook in his hand and looking at it when Harry got an idea.
“But, with me bein’ a pirate, I suppose I do have ta teach ye how to sword fight,” Harry said, smiling as he looked at the boy before leading him out back to play with a couple plastic swords that they had gotten him so he could play with some of his friends.
The two of them got a little carried away, neither one of them noticing when [Y/N] arrived home from the store. “Harry?” You asked as you carried in armfuls of groceries, usually Harry being right there to help you unload the car. Upon hearing laughter from outside, you raised an eyebrow and looked out the back door, smiling some as you watched the two most important men in your life playing with plastic swords.
Henry struck a ‘blow’ to Harry’s chest, to which Harry pretended to grip at the wound. “Oh no! Ye got me! I’m dying! Tell me girl I love her!” Harry said, causing his voice to fade as he hit the ground and pretending to die, opening one eye when you started to laugh.
“I leave for one hour and you’re already killing each other?” You laughed, and Henry grinned as he ran over to you.
“Mommy mommy!” Henry yelled, smiling and hugging your neck when you picked him up. “Daddy got me a hook and taught me to sword fight!” Henry yelled.
“Henry! I said that the hook was a secret.” Harry said as he got off the floor.
“I’m not good at keeping secrets from mommy,” Henry explained, laying his head on your shoulder, to which you laughed and smoothed his dark brown hair.
“As long as you don’t hurt anyone, I don’t mind you having a hook.” You assured them both, smiling and looking at Harry. You really did have a perfect family.
#harry hook#harry hook imagines#harry hook x reader#descendants imagine#descendants 2#disney descendants#disney descendants imagine#isle of the lost#isle of the lost imagine#harry hook x fem reader#harry hook fluff#family imagine#the hook family#son of captain hook
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Lovecraft Country and the Legacy of Emmett Till
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
The following contains spoilers for Lovecraft Country episode 8.
We meet young Emmett Till in episode three of Lovecraft Country, “Holy Ghost.” Till, referred to as “Bobo” and portrayed by Rhyan Hill, is seen using a Ouija board in Leti’s basement the night of her housewarming, alongside Diana (Jada Harris), and Gil (Scott-Heron, played by Maceo Smedley). The kids take turns asking questions, which the board answers, and when Bobo asks if he’ll have a good time on his trip, the board says no. It’s a brief moment in the story, but the meaning becomes much deeper once you realize that it’s the summer of 1955 and the trip in question is his visit to Mississippi to visit relatives.
Emmett Till was a real person and he was 14 years old when he travelled to the Mississippi Delta in late summer to visit family. On Aug. 24, 1955, Till, his cousins, and some friends went to Bryant Grocery in Money, Miss. to purchase refreshments, like kids are wont to do. According to the white woman working behind the counter, Carolyn Bryant, Till accosted her. One version of the story suggests he touched her hand and asked her for a date. Later testimony suggests he grabbed her hips, saying with some vulgarity that he’d been with a white woman before. When she went to her car to get a pistol, he supposedly wolf-whistled at her. Days later, her husband, Roy Bryant, and brother-in-law, J.W. Milam heard about the alleged incident, and decided Till needed to be taught a lesson.
On the night of Aug. 28, 1955, Bryant and Milam forcefully removed Till from the home of his great-uncle, Moses Wright. After abducting Till, they tortured him. They pistol whipped him, made him carry a cotton gin fan, stripped him naked, shot him, gouged out his eye. Then they tied the fan to him with a barbed wire that was wrapped around his neck, and tossed it, and him, into the Tallahatchie River. 72 hours later, his mutilated body was found floating 8 miles downriver. He was only recognizable by a ring he was wearing which had belonged to his father.
After Till’s body was found, his mother, Mamie Till-Mobley, insisted he be returned to Chicago for burial. She opted for an open-casket funeral, saying, “I think everybody needed to know what had happened to Emmett Till.” This is where ‘Jig-A-Bobo’ opens, with Diana in line to view Bobo’s body, while the stench of death fills the humid Chicago air. Fifty thousand people are estimated to have viewed Till’s disfigured body in-person, and graphic photographs of his corpse were published in the Chicago Defender and Jet magazine.
Milam and Bryant were tried for kidnapping and murder, and their trial began on Sept. 19, 1955. A mere five days later, after only an hour of deliberation, the men were acquitted by an all-male, all-white jury. The acquittal caused international outrage, and garnered interest in the NAACP. It inspired Rosa Parks to stay seated on a bus in Alabama, and ultimately helped spark the Civil Rights Movement.
A year after the trial, protected by double jeopardy laws, Bryant and Milam confessed to savagely murdering Emmett Till. They recounted the details to Look magazine, for which they were compensated $4000. Despite the initial support they received during the trial, the brothers-in-law were ostracized after detailing their heinous crime—the bare minimum of what they deserved. Carolyn also eventually recanted her testimony, telling Timothy Tyson—author of The Blood of Emmett Till— about Till’s alleged harassment, “That part’s not true.” She’s also reported to have said, “Nothing that boy did could ever justify what happened to him.” For the full story on Emmett Till, it’s worth watching the PBS documentary The Murder of Emmett Till.
Nothing Emmett Till did could ever justify what happened to him… and yet. That is the real horror of American racism, and that is what Lovecraft Country explores week to week. Blackness alone is justification enough to be assaulted or killed, something we’re unfortunately reminded of on a depressingly regular basis. Bobo’s transgression was merely existing while Black, and he was punished for failing to put himself beneath Whiteness—failing to “know his place, a fact that is reiterated by his killers’ own admission. His story fits within Lovecraft Country because the show is committed to depicting the horror and violence of anti-Black racism, and his story is more horrific and terrifying than anything writers can make up.
Nobody served time for the murder of Emmett Till. Both Roy Bryant and J.W. Milam died of cancer, (in 1994 and 1981, respectfully). It was probably slow and hopefully painful, but not nearly as satisfying as the kind of immediate justice we get in Lovecraft Country. That’s the appeal of this show for Black folks, we get to see our tormentors punished in real-time. We don’t have to wait years or decades for a white perpetrator to get their karmic due, it happens swiftly, and often with the appropriate level of violence. What’s more, Black characters come away stronger, more powerful, and better capable of protecting themselves and each other.
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Emmett Till’s life ended horribly, and nothing will make his death less of a tragedy. But from that loss, came resistance. Black folks turned their pain into power. And Lovecraft Country reminds us that we are more than our trauma, and capable of empowering ourselves.
The post Lovecraft Country and the Legacy of Emmett Till appeared first on Den of Geek.
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