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hi-qu · 3 years

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Karasuno Boys and Driving

Daichi

Worked part time to buy his car, so he’s very proud of it. Can’t tell him he aint got a Benz, (it a 02 Corolla lol). Car so old he feels like he gotta call it sir.

Cuz he earned, Daichi doesn’t mess around when it comes to his car.

You can’t borrow it, you better not throw any volleyballs near it, don’t even look at it funny.

But he’ll still gladly drive his teammates/friends around town so long as they follow the number 1 rule: You don’t eat in Daichi’s car.

He was driving the first years home after a late practice, and heard someone fidgeting with a wrapper. He whirled around and there was Tadashi, eyes getting misty while holding a cough drop.

“It’s a Halls, Daichi please. My throat is sore.”

He allowed it because he was glad it wasn’t actual food.

Because of his no food rule, his car is immaculate. Probably hasn’t been that spotless since it rolled off the line.

He cleans it every weekend after practice.

Daichi is a careful driver too. The kind who waves other drivers through even though he has the right a way. Truly a pedestrian’s best friend because he won’t block the crosswalks.

No real road rage, just abundantly cautious. Freeways freak him out especially if the lanes are narrow.

Won’t take the car out of park until everyone is buckled in. Will just wait and look at the back seat through the rear view mirror as everyone laughs and carries on. Eventually Suga or Asahi will notice and make sure everyone, Tanaka is buckled in.

Asahi is permanent shotgun, Noya or Hinata is in the middle, Suga to the left, and Tanaka on the right.

If Tsukki is riding, then he’s on the side with the best scenery so he can play his music and gaze dramatically.

He’s the kind of driver you tell your mom about when she asks who’s driving.

Kageyama:

It was his grandfather’s old car. It’s in decent shape.

Knows next to nothing about cars, is just like, “yeah, its blue with 4 doors.”

Thrilled it was 4 door just in case Hinata ever got a car. Best case scenario, Hinata got a 2-door making Kageyama the automatic winner. Slightly less best-case scenario, Hinata also got a 4 door but since Kageyama got his first he would still be the winner.

Didn’t want a car until he realized he could beat Hinata to school. Felt bad because the boy crossed a mountain every day, buuuut he was on a bike so TECHNICALLY Hinata already had an unfair advantage so this would just even the score.

Barely passed his driving test because he can’t parallel park. Doesn’t understand that precision on the court doesn’t translate to precision on the road.

One day he saw Tsukki and Tadashi walking home from school in the rain. He rode up to them slowly, rolled down his window and asked, “you want a lift?”

Tsukki immediately was on some, “oh ho? Us lowly peasants get to ride in the King’s Chariot-“

“Not you. Tadashi. Only. Tadashi.”

Next day Daichi had to have a talk about offering rides and courtesy.

But honestly, it’s probably safer to walk. Boy has no idea what he’s doing. The car’s a stick and he’s forever releasing the clutch too soon/late. The gears are stripping, he’s stalling at every stop sign.

oh no baby what is you doin??

Gets frustrated and just looks at his hands one day in the school parking lot like, “what’s wrong with me? Am I dumb? Is it the car who’s dumb??”

Got his answer when one day he was 15 mins late to weekend practice because his car stopped. After the team determined he didn’t stall it again, and it wasn’t the battery, Hinata is like,

“did you feed your car?”

Cue Kageyama looking like the confused math woman meme

“what do you mean ‘feed my car’?? Cars don’t eat fool.”

“Filling it with gas is like eating! We have to eat to fuel ourselves, so you have to feed a car fuel it, stupid.”

After that, he decided it was best to stick to walking.

Asahi

2nd best driver on the team due to his anxiety.

Our boy doesn’t mess around with horsing around in his car. He gotta focus on the road.

Doesn’t like driving outside the city limits because remembering turns and exits is just too much. Though Noya helps him by warning him ahead of time. That’s why Noya has permanent shotgun dibs.

His car is mad small for a man his size. It’s a two door he got used, and like Daichi, its his baby so he takes care of it. Except he’s not as fussy as Daichi is. You may eat and drink inside his car.

He has to fold/unfold himself when getting in and out. Its hilarious to watch but painful to him.

Driver seat all the way in the back seat because long leg problems, so only Hinata can sit behind him.

In the summer, he and Noya go cruisin’. He had to be convinced to ride with shades on and hair down, but Noya said looking cool was a part of cruisin’.

Daichi and Suga often go for rides with Asahi and just talk. Maybe park somewhere with some food and reminisce like they’re old men remembering the, “good ol’ days.” Asahi treasures these moments with his friends.

Suga

It was his parent’s old car that they let him use. The largest car out of the group, probably a SUV.

Number one option for when the team wants to go on little excursions because thankfully, we have leg room.

A reliable driver you can depend on to not drive consistently. Sometimes, he is careful and considerate 10/10 driver.

Then sometimes he like, “lets press the gas while going downhill.” Just to scare the first years.

Kind of driver to be like, “I got it,” after the light has been yellow for over 30 seconds. No road too narrow, or parking space too complicated for Suga.

Doesn’t exactly speed, but also doesn’t go as slow as you would like.

Ask him for a ride and he’s like, “yeah, I’ll get you there.”

But in what condition Suga? What condition??

Knows how to drive like he has some sense but will he use it??? Maybe if Daichi is there.

Doesn’t mind eating and drinking in the car. He’ll also chat away while driving. Only thing he refuses to do is drive the team to a game.

For one, they can’t all fit comfortably, and two, Hinta’s incident in the bus is still fresh in his mind. So, when Takeda brings it up again, Suga goes, “no can-do sensei <3”

Hinata

Baby was thrilled when he passed his drivers exam. Took pics of his license and shared it in the group chat. Then showed it off in person.

Drives his folk’s old car. It's too old for long distances but reliable enough for school and back.

It’s a 2 door, Kagayama is thrilled and it’s a stick, but Shoyo can drive a stick (can’t win em all Kageyama).

So cautious when he drives! Not out of anxiety rather he’s worried about hurting someone. Uses his blinker at the right time, lets kids and old ladies cross first. Really polite at a 4 way, but it’s his turn and he's gonna make himself late with all of this.

Knows how to change a tire and check the fluids because he lives in the country and just learned as he grew.

Car stays in good shape.

One of the few who can handle driving in snow, but he did panic some during his first snowstorm.

The kind of driver that if he even taps another car, he’s leaving a note stained with his tears, his phone number, email, home address facebook, AIM, his mom’s number, and Coach Uaki’s.

Tsukki and Kageyama roasted him about does he climb into his car, (it’s technically a little truck) or does he need a running start.

Still offers them ride because he's a good kid.

Doesn’t know if it’s worse having Kageyama in the back seat, or in the passenger seat. When Kageyama is in the car, Hinata low key flexes by smoothly shifting gears. Worst 15-minute drive of Kageyama’s life.

One time, it was just him and Noya on a snack run and they got pulled over. The cop thought 2 kids took their mom’s car for a joy ride. They called Hinata’s mom to verify his license and that he was 16. It was low moment for both of them that not even meat buns could fix.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu hcs #my writing #daichi #hinata #asahi #kageyama #sugawara

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four-loose-screws · 4 years

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FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation (Gen II) - Chapter 3

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Chapter 3 - Larcei, My Love

T/W: Cousin incest and brief rape mention.

“I don't want to fight.”

Iuchar, King Danan's middle son, said to himself over and over again as he prepared for battle.

Iuchar was well-known as a brave axe knight, and wasn't the type to hold back in a fight. However, this time, he found himself feeling hesitant.

He checked that none of his soldiers were near him, then muttered once more, "I don't want to fight."

He repeated those words over and over, trying to ascertain how he really felt...

He had two reasons not to fight. The first was that he was completely against the child hunts his father, Danan, had ordered, and the second was that Larcei was a member of the liberation army.

Danan was every bit like his father, Lombard: cruel, arrogant, greedy, and quick to become infuriated when others didn't agree with him.

When he received the news that Ganeishire Castle had fallen to the rebel army led by Seliph, Danan summoned all of the commanding officers serving as castle lords to Rivough Castle and ranted at them, as he always did.

"Ganeishire was taken by a ragtag rebel army of peasants!? What is the meaning of this!? You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Even you, Iuchar! Your castle is the closest one to Ganeishire! Why didn't you try to send reinforcements!?"

'I did, but by that time, the castle had already fallen!' He started to say, but stopped himself. He knew that saying his thoughts aloud would just add fuel to the fire.

"My reputation is ruined! If the empire were to find out about this, what would His Majesty think!? Listen up, Iuchar, Iucharba! I want you two to deploy immediately, and fight with all you've got. Their numbers are small. If you surround them in a field, then it should be an easy win. Don't show them any mercy! Kill them all! Especially those I am about to call out now. They are the instigators of this rebellion. Whoever kills them will receive a bounty. You must come back with their heads!"

After starting with the traitor Sigurd's son, Seliph, he called out seven more names: Shanan, Oifey, Diarmuid, Lester, Ulster, and Larcei.

'Larcei!' The moment he heard her name, Iuchar's heart skipped a beat. 'So she's part of the rebel army?'

He'd first met her two years ago at a summer festival that he snuck out to attend.

A beautiful girl with gorgeous black eyes dancing in a circle with several others caught his attention, so he started talking to her. While her response was blunt, it actually made him fall in love for the very first time. Her masculine way of speaking was very fresh and new to him.

After talking to her for a while, she finally told him her name, and they made plans for their next meeting.

Since then, they'd met up about once every two months. But although they met, it didn't mean that Iuchar realized how he felt about her. They simply went on a picnic when the weather was nice, or to a restaurant in a random village when it was cold, and talked for two or three hours.

Her behavior never once changed. Whenever his words were even a bit sweet, she was relentless in pointing it out. Strangely, he didn't find it unpleasant.

'Whenever Father's words are harsh, he's angry, so why isn't it the same with Larcei?'

Once he thought very carefully about it, he realized the reason why.

His father only ever thought about himself. In contrast, Larcei's thoughts were never about her own personal gain. Her words may have been sharp, but they had no ill will. Rather, there were even times when she spoke like that for his own good.

For example, when he first learned about the child hunts, he simply thought "They're bad!" and left it at that. He didn't feel that they concerned him. However, when talking to Larcei, she explained that such acts would destroy society, and he came to be firmly against them.

As the son of a king and lord of an Isaachian castle, he'd always seen the world through that lens, but thanks to Larcei, he was now able to think from the standpoint of each and every parent and child.

While traveling home to Rivough Castle, he was accompanied for part of the way by his younger brother, Iucharba, lord of Sophia Castle.

"This battle is pretty serious, huh?" Iucharba muttered.

"You think so, too? I have the same feeling."

"Larcei was one of the names amongst the instigators, right? I know her, actually."

His brother's words startled Iuchar, but he didn't know how to respond right away.

"I think I have a crush on her, so please, Big Brother, don't kill her. Spare only her. I’ll beg Father afterwards, and tell him I just want to save her life, whatever it takes.”

Iuchar missed his chance to speak his true feelings, and only responded by silently nodding.

'Maybe Larcei likes Iucharba back. But if she does, then why did she spend time with me?'

The two parted ways, and as Iuchar continued back to Rivough Castle, that was the only thing he could think about.

'If she does like him…' Every time he had that thought, his chest burned with jealousy.

'Then why did she hang out with me?' That thought gave him a bit of hope.

'Or maybe she met with us to change our minds?' That last thought filled him with the sinking feeling that he'd been led on.

'But, if she did lead me on, then what? Do I fight her?'

In the end, he decided that he didn't want to fight her.

The members of Iuchar's cavalry unit met up at the place they'd agreed upon and prepared for battle.

As they marched, several of his soldiers broke away from the group to pillage a nearby village, but he didn't have the energy to stop them.

Late into the afternoon, one of the soldiers rushed up to him and reported, "A person carrying a white flag is approaching us!"

"Are they an enemy?"

"We believe so. They appear to be a woman."

'Could it be… Larcei?' He immediately thought. 'I want to meet her and see what she has to say.'

"Alright then, I'm going to meet her. I'll be fine on my own. Stay here, everyone." Iuchar said, and galloped ahead.

The closer he got, the faster his heart pounded in his chest.

'That silhouette… it has to be Larcei's! I knew it! It is her!'

He stopped beside her, and while still on his horse, asked, "Larcei, have you come to surrender?"

"Don't be stupid! We would never!"

"Then what is the white flag for?"

"To try and stop the fight, so we can make a proposal."

"Why?"

"We're trying to change this world, where child hunts are carried out every day. Our final goal is to topple the empire and the Loptr Church, but first, we must defeat your father, Danan, here in Isaach. But I do not want to kill you, so I am requesting we call a ceasefire."

"So you're telling me to disobey my father's orders?"

"You are half Isaachian."

Those four words dredged up the memories he'd buried deep within his mind.

His mother had not been a princess, but a woman Danan found and kidnapped from her village.

In about three months time, he’d gotten bored of her. He would no longer look at her, and treated her as a common maid. All Isaachian women were beneath horses to him.

She died during childbirth, so Iuchar had no memories of a mother's kindness.

Whenever he cried as a child, he was immediately told, "Your mother was always crying! That's why you're a crybaby!"

He hated it, and learned to hold back his tears. He was even inspired to become a soldier because he didn’t want to be used as an example proving that his mother was weak.

'Mother was just forced to suffer a horrible fate because of Father! She wasn't weak. I am proof of that! How am I weak!?' Iuchar had thought to himself when he once won a horseback riding contest.

"I'm taking that as a yes. We'll continue down this path tomorrow morning.”

Larcei's words snapped him back to reality.

“W-wait. You’ve met Iucharba, haven’t you?”

“I have. I wanted to teach Danan’s sons what is right. But…”

"But what?"

"I came straight to your unit. Do you know what that means?"

Those words confused him. 'What is she trying to say?'

"I'm heading back now. See you."

"W-wait! What if I don’t agree to the ceasefire?"

"Well, I can't do anything about that. I'll come leading my soldiers tomorrow. If you say you approve of the child hunts, then you and I will fight one on one, understand?" She said, then turned around and went back the way she came.

That night, he couldn't stop thinking about what she meant.

'I've always felt refreshed after meeting with Larcei, but today was somehow different.’

After feeling lost all night long, he finally reached his conclusion.

‘That’s it, that’s what she was getting at! Larcei knows that if I was that confused, she was able to convince me. But that doesn’t mean that I came to my own conclusion. If I agree to a ceasefire with her, I'll be turning my back on both the empire and my father. In other words, I'll be throwing away who I've been until now. If I threw it all away only because I was convinced by her, I might regret it later. But if I made my choice all on my own, then...’

With that thought, he fell asleep, though he hadn't yet decided what to do.

He woke up the next morning feeling completely refreshed.

After breakfast, he saw the rebel army marching towards them in the distance.

"We still have thirty minutes until we fight! You can get ready without having to panic." Iuchar said to his subordinates while walking between their tables.

After cleaning up from breakfast, they got into formation, and began to march.

The rebel army was marching in one big group, while Iuchar and Iucharba's units were in "Crane Formation," a vertical line shaped formation that looked like a crane's wings spread out wide.

'If we stay like this, we can attack by surrounding them from both sides, and claim an easy victory.' Iuchar thought, but then realized that Larcei probably knew that's what he would do.

Larcei was leading her unit, walking ahead of them on her own, as she'd promised.

'She must know, and that's why she's been risking her own life like this since yesterday.'

He was overwhelmed with feelings of how beautiful she was. It was a different love than he'd ever felt for her before. He was seeing her not only as someone of the opposite sex, but also as her own person.

Iuchar halted his soldiers, and walked ahead alone.

He and Larcei stopped about ten meters from each other.

She was clearly nervous. The sight of that expression on her face made him realize how lovely she was all over again.

"Oh, Larcei… My love!” He called out loudly, sounding almost as if he was singing.

Larcei stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

"The day our fate is realized has finally come!"

"What are you talking about, Iuchar!? Did you eat something funny?"

"Larcei...

Your voice is like the song of a small bird

Your eyes sparkle like the stars

Ah, I think…

I can no longer live without you…"

"Stop it! You're making me sick! This is a battlefield. Have you gone mad!?"

"No, I am quite sane. I made a poem for you, though you didn't seem to like it very much. My words are no lie, though. I will show you the proof right now." Iuchar said, then turned around.

"Everyone, from now on, we will fight alongside the liberation army, and put an end to the awful child hunts! Starting today, we fight for love, justice, and Larcei!”

His soldiers all cheered in unison, surprising Iuchar, as he thought he'd have to join the liberation army on his own. However, his soldiers were mostly Isaachians, and agreed with him.

'Just about everyone finds the child hunts unacceptable.'

Seeing Iuchar try to team up with the liberation army made Iucharba go wild with jealousy and rage.

"Dammit! How dare Brother run ahead and ally with Larcei!? Now I can never forgive her! I'll kill every last one of them! All soldiers! Attack!"

Iucharba led his soldiers, and ran not for the rebel army, but Iuchar's army.

The battle immediately became harsh. Both armies were made up of well trained soldiers, so neither side was superior or inferior to the other. However, once the liberation army joined in to support Iuchar's army, the outcome was quickly decided.

Afterwards, the main force of the liberation army continued to march, as they'd decided they wanted to make it to Isaach Castle that day.

Around two in the afternoon, they saw a pillar of smoke coming from the direction of Isaach Castle. And when they got even closer, a cloud of dust rose up ahead of them.

"What do you think that’s about, Prince Iuchar?" Oifey guided his horse next to Iuchar's and asked.

"I think General Schmitt and his cavalry are responsible."

"Are they strong?"

"Yes, and quite so."

"Then we should probably retreat for now, I'm guessing?"

"There's a village atop the left hand side of the hill. I think we should go protect it."

The liberation army decided to take Iuchar's advice and retreated, then barricaded themselves within the village. The town was surrounded by a steep slope, so as long as they guarded the village's entrance, the enemy wouldn't be able to invade.

Schmidt's cavalry unit soon came to attack the village. They took turns charging the entrance and throwing javelins inside. The cavalry seemed to be well trained in this maneuver, as they put up a consistent, stubborn fight. If they had attacked in an area where they could put their horses' mobility to use, they probably would have been able to do a lot of damage.

However, Oifey's and Iuchar's units took turns protecting the entrance, and did not let the enemy invade the village. Any of Schmidt's soldiers that traveled the village perimeter looking for another entrance were met with Lester's arrows and Arthur's meteors.

As the calvary took more and more damage, both the soldiers and their horses started to look tired. When the time was right, Seliph shouted,"Okay, counterattack now! Everyone, chaaaarge!"

With their speed greatly hampered, the cavalry no longer had any strength left. The course of the battle changed so quickly that it was as if the two sides had never been evenly matched at all.

While the liberation army was resting up after the battle, Seliph approached Iuchar and said, "Prince Iuchar, thanks to you, we were able to save our allies. Thank you."

"Don't mention it! We're allies! And by the way, I'm not a prince anymore. I threw that title away earlier today."

"I understand, Iuchar. I look forward to working with you."

"Yeah, same here!"

They spent the night at the village, and arrived at Isaach Castle the next day around noon.

What Iuchar saw was there was a castle in ruin. The areas made of stone were left intact, but the rest was destroyed, torn apart, or on fire. Everything of value had been stolen.

'Father must have gotten angry and ordered this in response to my betrayal. But I actually feel relieved.'

Rivough Castle was surrounded on three sides, so the liberation army decided to wait for a while before carrying out a full attack on it. They were hoping that upon seeing their numbers, the Isaachian soldiers would come to surrender. As they'd predicted, over the course of five days, many of the soldiers snuck out of Rivough, and joined the liberation army.

When it came time to finally start the attack, they broke down the castle gate, and Iuchar led the front line into the castle. The remaining enemy soldiers didn't try to fight, instead rushing towards the main building, dismounting their horses, and running inside.

Iuchar’s father was sitting on the throne, encased in a full suit of armor.

Iuchar readied his battle axe and slowly approached him.

"What is this? Are you trying to turn your blade against your own father?"

Iuchar didn't answer.

Danan stood up and grabbed his own axe.

Iuchar walked up to the staircase leading to the throne. The three sets of stairs his father was standing atop of made him look very tall.

'In our current positions, I'd lose the fight for sure.' Iuchar thought.

His father didn't seem interested in giving up the high ground, so they glared at each other for a while longer.

His father's gaze made him try to remember what their relationship had been like until now. He'd been a person Iuchar couldn't possibly compare to, and tried to make him obey every order without question.

'I must forget the past, and think of what he's done! To the children, and the villagers, and my mother!'

However, it was hard to keep the exact same thoughts in his mind. Still, he tried his hardest to endure, and not give up.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

Then--

"Iuchar!"

He heard someone scream.

It was just for a moment, but he looked away from his opponent.

That was when Danan jumped.

He tried to swing his axe at Iuchar's torso, but Iuchar was a split second faster, and dashed towards his chest.

Iuchar swung down his axe, smashing his father's helmet and lodging his weapon into the top of Danan’s head.

Iuchar heard his father's axe fall on the floor.

"Iuchar!" Larcei rushed up to him.

He slowly turned around.

"Iuchar! Thank goodness you're safe!"

After that, she tried to avoid him. He wondered why, but the look of relief on her face told him everything.

"I'm sorry, Iuchar. When I realized just how much you'd been forced to throw away, I couldn't bring myself to look at you. But then, when I saw you rush into the castle…"

"Don't worry about it, Larcei. The things I threw away meant nothing to me. What I gained is worth so much more."

A small smile lit up her face.

It was the first time Iuchar had ever seen her make such a kind expression.

#fire emblem #fe #fe4 #genealogy of the holy war #seliph #nintendo #super nintendo #snes #famicom #super famicom #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe4 suzuki novelization translation

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generalkenobi55-blog · 5 years

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The King's Tournament

So, I've had this idea for a while in which I was gonna write a whole book series based off of a random idea I got one day.

Here's an excerpt for it.

Hope y'all like it.

The crowd was silent. The arena was jam packed, there was no space to even move, yet there was no sound at all.

Even the children that had been brought along were silent.

Everyone held their breaths as they looked at the image before them.

Sir Eric Ryde, bloodied, bruised, and looking exhausted, stood with his sword just an inch from his opponent's neck.

Sir Lloyd Cromdor, the son of Sir Salazar Cromdor was on the ground, and even he looked shocked to have been disarmed, and to have been hit so hard that he couldn't stand.

"Lloyd, yield" Eric said in a low voice.

Lloyd either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him.

"Yield!" Eric said, louder this time.

Lloyd smirked, despite having his hand on his ear, or what was left of it.

"Kill me, Eric" he said in a taunting voice. "Get it over with"

Eric clenched his jaw. "I'm not like you or your father. I'm not a cold blooded killer" he said.

"Do it, peasant" Lloyd said.

Eric clenched his left hand. "Yield" he said once again. "Yield or you'll regret it" he said.

Lloyd knew Eric wasn't a man that would kill if not necessary. But he also knew he had struck a nerve. And he also knew that when he didn't accept his father's bribe, there was going to be trouble.

"Alright...I yield..." Lloyd said slowly.

Eric moved his sword away, Sir Leonel's sword, and started to sheath it, when Lloyd jumped to his feet and tackled him.

Eric struggled to move his sword away from Lloyd's grip, but as he did, Lloyd used that opportunity to punch him in the face.

Eric was dazed long enough for Lloyd to take out a dagger concealed on his person.

Just before Lloyd managed to find a weak spot in his armor, Eric grabbed the dagger with both hands.

He used all his strength to keep it from ultimately piercing his heart, and managed to turn it around.

That caught Lloyd off guard, and it was enough to throw him off, redirecting the dagger to stab himself in the side.

Lloyd fell back, unable to get back up, shocked to have been defeated.

Eric slowly rose to his feet as the medics took Lloyd away and the arena erupted in cheers.

Those cheers turned to screams and Eric spun around to see Sir Salazar Cromdor, Lloyd's father, grab Abigail, his wife, and pull her hard.

He threw her down to the arena, and not even Aiden, Victor, or Eric's father could hold him back.

Cromdor pulled Abigail roughly to her feet and put a knife at her throat.

As Eric ran towards them, an archer came out of nowhere and aimed at him.

Before he could knock another arrow, Eric tackled the man and hit him hard, knocking him out cold.

Eric grabbed the bow and arrow, as there was only one, and knocked it, aiming for Cromdor.

"Let her go!" Eric said, fear gripping his heart as Cromdor pressed the knife closer to Abigail's neck.

"Let her go? Let her go?" Cromdor said, as if that was the stupidest question he had ever heard.

"After all you've done to me? After winning against my son? After destroying everything I have worked for? You want me to let her go?" He said incredulously.

Eric didn't know what to say. "Please, Sir Cromdor...I-I'll do whatever you want...just let her go" Eric said slowly, seeing the panic in Abigail's eyes.

"Really? Really? You expect me to take you up on that offer? Do you think I'm stupid enough to accept an offer made by the son of a stablehand and a whore?" He said with disgust.

Eric clenched his jaw. His eyes flashed with anger.

"Don't you dare call my mother a whore" he said.

"Or what?" Cromdor challenged.

Eric looked at Abigail and she gave him the slightest of nods.

It was time.

"Or I'll tell everyone who was the man who tried to kill an unborn child and framed his uncle" he said slowly.

"What?" Sir Cromdor said, confused.

Eric sighed. "My true name is not Eric Ryde. My name is Marcus Eric...Marivaldi" he said, and was met by a gasp from the crowd.

Not taking the bow's aim away from Cromdor's chest, he turned his head to look at the royal family.

Eva was looking at him with understanding, realizing what he had meant that night in the garden.

King Henry looked at Eric, his eyes searching his face, not wanting to believe that his dead infant son was alive.

Queen Evelyn clung to her husband's arm, tears already forming as she looked at him.

Lady Mathilda walked to her brother's side and whispered something to him.

She then looked at Eric and smiled at him.

The King's eyes widened as he heard whatever his sister had said. He shook his head and mouthed the words "It can't be..." Again and again.

Eric nodded to his aunt and turned to Cromdor, who stared at him.

He shook his head, his mouth slightly agape.

"Impossible..." He said.

"Is it?" Eric said. "Is it impossible? That you failed?"

"I...I don't know what you're talking about..." Sir Cromdor said, though his anger had been replaced by fear.

"Really? Do you think I'm stupid?" Eric said.

"You can't prove anything...Marco is dead..." Cromdor said, realizing too late his mistake.

"People of Lokar! You have heard him admit his crime! He admits trying to kill me, my mother, and framing my uncle!" Eric said.

"What other lies has he told in the past twenty-one years?" He continued.

"Liar!" Cromdor yelled. "Don't listen to him! He's-He's crazy! He's-"

He was interrupted as the crowd began shouting "Liar!" And "Traitor!"

Sir Cromdor looked in fear at the crowd, then back at Eric. "Now you will pay..." He said as he began to press the knife into Abigail's neck, a trickle of blood falling and staining her dress.

She cried out slightly before Cromdor clapped his hand over her mouth.

Eric whirled around and pulled the bowstring back. "Let her go!" He said.

Cromdor responded by pulling her roughly in front of him. "You shoot me, you'll kill her too" he said.

Eric didn't know what to do. His hands shook as he looked from Cromdor to Abigail.

Before he could blink, Cromdor yelled out in pain and he fell, letting Abigail go. A dagger was potruding from his back as Marco was seen behind him.

Somehow, he had been able to sneak behind Cromdor and stab him just in time.

He caught Abigail and helped her to her feet as Eric ran to them.

Cromdor tried to get up, but Eric shot him in the leg, causing him to fall back to the ground as guards surrounded him.

Eric embraced Abigail and kissed her, right after he tore his shirt and made a makeshift bandage for the wound on her neck.

"Thank you" Eric told Marco, and he nodded.

As Cromdor was lifted to his feet, he stared at Marco through his pain.

"Gabriel Hunter? But why? Aren't you a mercenary?" He said incredulously.

Marco nodded. "I was, and most likely still am. But there's a reason your contracts were never fulfilled when you payed me" he said.

"And that is?" Cromdor spat at him.

"Because you tried to have me killed and you killed my wife, children, and the child my wife was carrying" he said.

"I never-"

"Twenty-one years ago. You framed me for a crime I didn't commit. You killed my family, made my brother turn against me, and had me killed. Too bad the guards you asked to shoot me were my friends" he said.

"No....M-Marco?" Cromdor said. "It can't be..."

"Oh, I assure you, it is quite possible. And that's exactly what happened, Salazar" he said.

He turned to King Henry. "Don't you recognize me brother?" He asked.

"Marco? But you...you were killed..." He said.

"I can assure you brother, he was not killed. I made sure of that, along with getting Eric to safety" Lady Mathilda said.

The King stared incredulously at his sister, then at his brother, then his son. He didn't say anything, instead rushing to the stairs with his wife behind him.

Both entered the arena, the Queen rushing in front of him as they headed towards Eric, Abigail, and Marco.

Queen Evelyn stood transfixed on her son's face. "Is it really you? My Marcus?" She said, putting a hand on his cheek.

"It is" Eric responded.

The Queen looked into his eyes, the same color as hers, though they were the same shape as his father's.

His handsome face resembled that of her husband, his father, as well.

His black hair he had inherited from his grandfather, his strength and height as well.

"Oh, my son..." She said as she pulled him to her, tears finally falling freely.

King Henry rushed up to them and put his arms around them.

"It's you, isn't it Eric? Our son?" He said, his voice breaking.

Eric could only nod, tears stinging his eyes.

After pulling apart, Eric wiped his tears and smiled at his parents.

He took Abigail's hand. "Mother...Father...this is my wife, Abigail" he said, and she curtsied, something Eric had never seen.

"It is a blessing to welcome you into our family" the Queen said.

King Henry, however, said nothing as his gaze turned to Marco.

Though his hair was almost completely white, he had a circle beard, his eyepatch covered his right eye, and he looked older, there was no mistaking that this was his older brother.

"Marco" said King Henry, unsure of what to say. Part of him was glad his brother was back, along with his son whom he had thought dead.

But yet, he felt a twinge of sadness and guilt for actually believing the lies Salazar Cromdor had fed him for years.

"I'm-"

"Sorry?" Marco interrupted.

Henry nodded.

"I am too. Sorry for not coming back and telling you the truth. Sorry for not revealing my true name all those times you requested for the Lokar Hawks to assist you. Sorry that I did not have the courage to tell you that everytime you called for Captain Gabriel Hunter, you were calling for your own brother" he said.

Henry could feel his eyes grow moist again. This time instead of happiness, it was sadness that fueled the tears. "I...I can't fix the past Gabri- Marco. I can't go back and change things. I can't go back to when I was young and naive and thought I had everything. But I can change the future, brother" he said, placing a hand on Marco's shoulder gently.

Marco looked at Henry out of his good eye. He smiled at him and pulled him into a bear hug. Both men let their tears fall as they embraced.

Eric looked into the crowd, at his adoptive parents, at his siblings, at Victor.

And he smiled.

#writing #fiction #medieval #knights #plot twist

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gaiatheorist · 7 years

Text

Healthy/Happy.

(Yes, it’s a spin-out from one of my mid-life health-check blood tests coming back outside normal parameters. My Potassium level was 5.7, 6 is indicative of imminent renal failure. After the initial “I am going to DIE!” panic-palpitations, and the associated anxiety that elevated blood-Potassium can cause palpitations, I calmed down, and reassured myself that it was one spike on an otherwise OK chart. The nurse had to use a special small needle, because my veins are uncooperative, ‘bruising’ of the blood during difficult drawing can cause erroneous results. I’d consumed LOADS of water, to flush the excessive alcohol out of my system for the urine test, and likely sent my kidneys into overdrive. The blood sample could have been damaged in transit. I won’t actually know if my kidneys are fucked until the second sample is tested, but that didn’t stop my brain throwing a lovely “You can’t eat THAT!” tantrum while I was grocery shopping. My kidneys are damaged, or they were when I was 14 or 15, virtually constant urinary tract infections as a child led to some scarring, and an ‘acute over-dilation of the upper uretral tract’. Welcome to me, it’s exhausting.)

I’m going to park the fact that I’m incredibly unhealthy right alongside the concern that the UK government is destroying the NHS. I am giving no mind-space to “Well, it won’t matter if your kidneys fail if that nutter presses the button.”

I am fat-ist. I don’t mean to be, and I try not to be openly, directly offensive to overweight people, because I have no idea why they’re overweight. If you want to unpick it, I had a childhood in active poverty, with both parents, and pretty much every other source of influence having an open “Look at the state of that!” attitude to overweight people. That will have been peasant-jealousy, that other people weren’t subsisting on off-cuts from their Dad’s on-off work at the chicken factory, and mince with gristle in it. Cut-through my maladaptive adolescence, where my body was the only thing I had any degree of control over, I effectively disabled my hunger-trigger. There wasn’t any food that wasn’t freezer-shop crap, I don’t eat much of that now, because it’s loaded with chemicals, and because it tastes ‘cheap’. You can be as clever as you like with seasonings, but a freezer-shop ready-meal is always going to have that damaged/’is-this-horse?’ taste to it. The last two decades saw me enfolded into the welcoming bosom of the ex’s family, as well as suffocating me, they were fond of trying to force-feed me, whilst carrying on wittering about which foods were ‘slimming’. Food isn’t ‘slimming’. I’m not sure ‘slimming’ can apply to food, food is fuel, it’s calories, and nutrition, it’s the holistic surrounding factors that influence whether the food you eat causes you to gain weight.

(Flash-back to a training course where there was an intelligent but heated debate on whether it was ‘better’ to continue eating junk-food, but just less of it, or to completely switch to a ‘healthy’ diet. Either way, weight would reduce, but one would have less emotional impact on the type of person who was used to junk-food, and didn’t actually have the desire to change.)

These modern ‘diets’ and slimming clubs seem to put less emphasis on the ‘eat less’ angle, it looks, from the outside, and from the endless overheard discussions, that they’re about ‘different’, not ‘denial’. There’s been a decline in the “Diet, day 4, I’m bastard STARVING!” comments on Fakebook, and an increase in the number of people posting their certificates showing how much weight they’ve lost. I am happy that they are happy, in my weird, couldn’t-actually-give-a-shit way. I’m happy when they’re more energetic, feel brighter in themselves, and are starting to enjoy life, rather than waddle about under cover of darkness. I’m less happy when they can only see the aesthetic aspect of the weight-loss, but that’s my weirdness, not theirs.

I am slim, I’ve been hefty, but never crossed the arbitrary BMI-25 line, I’ve been so thin that the arbitrary line dipped under 18, I genuinely don’t know why I still bother calculating it. When I was up at the higher end, nobody said anything, joking that trouser-waistbands were training to be magicians, and rehearsing the ‘sawing a woman in half’ trick were normalised. Conversations about wearing ‘flattering’ clothes, to disguise belly-slabs, and wobbly bits were accepted, and the “I know I shouldn’t finish eating this, I’m full.” conversation went round on an endless loop.

When I lost weight, suddenly everyone wanted to comment on it. In a negative way. “You’ve lost too much weight.” “There’s nothing left of you.” “You need to eat more pies.” You’re not ‘allowed’ to do that to people at the other end of the scale, in this society where ‘everyone’ is a bit overweight, you’re not supposed to ask people if they really need that third biscuit, or tell them that their trousers are so stretched-tight that you’re wondering if their cellulite could be read like braille. Thin women are fair game, though. I can sort-of understand some of it, I know I looked ill for a fair while. That would be because I was. I knew I was ill, and I knew I’d lost weight, people being ‘kind’ by pointing out they could see my ribs didn’t cause the scales to fall from my eyes, or help my obsession with the bathroom scales. (I went through a weird phase of taking a photo of the display on my scales each morning, and was a hair’s breadth from messaging it to the shrieky-office crew, who talked about nothing but Slimming World. I have a modicum of restraint, though.)

Weird. I was unhappy being that thin, I was weak, I was genuinely emaciated, and I’d taken in the waistbands on my trousers to stop me having to hitch them up every 30 seconds. I hope people just didn’t realise how hurtful-insensitive some of their comments were, or the restraint I showed in trying to deflect with humour, instead of just screaming at them. Some of them were unhappy with their own weight, but I don’t think there was any conscious kicking-downwards, I think that, in a society where ‘everyone’ wants to lose weight, seeing someone who has lost weight is a bit confusing.

I’m waffling. People come in all shapes and sizes. The ‘size zero’ phenomenon a few years ago polarised opinion. The fashion industry WANTED to see ribs, and hip-bones, but the average UK citizen isn’t anything like that shape, so there was a backlash, that being THAT thin isn’t healthy. Now, we have the ‘obesity epidemic’, but most of us are too British-reserved to point out that someone’s a bit on the podgy side, in case we’re accused of body-shaming. Most of us aren’t tabloid newspapers, or internet trolls. Children, and adolescents are growing up in this world, this mixed-message world, the long-term consequences are terrifying, physically, and emotionally.

Disordered eating, in the broadest sense, is NOT about food, it’s about feelings. I’m lucky in that I’ve never equated food with a ‘treat’ or a ‘reward’, food is boring but necessary fuel for this sack of meat-we-don’t-eat. Listen to Tim Minchin’s ‘Fat Children’, and you see part of the problem. Another part of the problem is the on-the-wagon-off-the-wagon cyclic ‘dieting’, the kids aren’t seeing consistency, they either have role models who are snappy, ketone-breathed monsters, insisting they eat their vegetables, or comfort-eating, convenience-food couch-dwellers. Assimilate that into a developing data-matrix, with the government/NHS pushing for healthier lifestyles, the fashion models still being ‘too thin’, and the tabloids and trolls still playing fat’s-fair-game; any wonder they’re confused?

In my opinion, there’s too much focus on aesthetics, and ‘look good, feel good’ is the wrong way around. I have genuine desires to start arguments with the parents coo-ing ‘pretty’ and ‘gorgeous’, and fucking ‘sexy’ at their pram-contents, but I don’t, because I’m British, and the type of person who tickles a baby, and says “Who’s sexy?” to it wouldn’t grasp my concern. Girls are ‘pretty’, and boys are ‘strong’, there must be no deviation from the established norm. That places pretty boys, and strong girls in a difficult position, when acquiring the requisite number of Fakebook-likes to validate their existence.

I know I bang on about ‘happy’, and the myth of the Instagram/Fakebook perfect life, but this dichotomy forced on body-image is damaging. It’s a Goldilocks-myth, too hot, too cold, just right, but once the porridge is sorted, there’s the chair, and the bed, and HOLY FUCK IT’S A BEAR. The ‘just right’ doesn’t hold, because there’s always something else to find, or do, or change, people are happy, and then someone says something hurtful, and they feel the need to either justify themselves, or make another change. I’m not advocating stagnation, but, for the love of all the Gods, if you’re doing the ‘diet’ or exercise thing, do it for yourself, not for other people. If you want to be attractive, or attainable, that’s fine, as long as you’re doing it for yourself, and not just turning into a leggings-lemming. We all have a responsibility to ourselves to be healthy, or we’ll accelerate our own demise; we have a responsibility to be as ‘happy’ as we can, too, genuinely content with ourselves, not aesthetic-neurotic.

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booabug · 6 years

Note

Pop goes the Fox (I couldn't stop myself)

Pop Goes The Fox - Full miraculous squad celebrating Nino’s birthday. [AO3]

“Uh,” Nino articulated, staring at the bigmongous cake parkedon the table before him like a Hummer in a small car stall.

Heglanced to his side, where Marinette was threatening to vibe throughthe floor in excitement. Beside her, even Chloe’s usual look of‘I’d rather be anywhere else’ was more ‘The peasants may amuseme ‘fore I shall take my leave.’

He didn’t even have to look atAdrien. Nino could feel the energy his bro was emitting. Hewas not currently decked out in black supersuit, but that was,without a doubt, big Chat Noir energy. Magnitude ‘I’m about toCataclysm a priceless cultural landmark and lookcool as hell doing it’ energy.

And their kwami… were out of sight.Completely ghosted on them.

Worrying.

“I’m confused.”

“You don’t like the cake?”Marinette said, sounding wounded. Unconvincing.

Nino blinked at her. “It’s a bigasscake,” he pointed out.

“Is it?”

“Dude, it’s like… my height rightnow,” Nino looked in sympathy at the table valiantly fighting offconfectionary collapse. It was ridiculously disproportionate. Theentire situation was ridiculously… them. Only this squad ofgoofballs could or would pull this. He couldn’t help butsnort and smile. “Okay, not even your birthday cake was as—Imean, the only thing I can think of is that you have bad news for me?Did something happen? Did your dad bake a cake as big as his sorrow?”

His smile faltered. “Doesss… Thishave anything to with Alya being… ‘late?’”

“Wh- No! It’s not sympathy pain,”Adrien panic-punned, “She’s ju-”

Upper tiers of cake exploded with theunholy hell-screech of Satan’s chest-burster.

“HOLY FRICKITY FRACK DOWN THE TRACK,”Nino screamed, from the air, as he was airborne, having beenrocket-nightmare fuel propelled upwards. Though alarms were blaring in his head, he would know that screech anywhere. “ARE YOUTRYING TO KILL ME, WOMAN?”

“Uh, rude,” Alnya Rougésaire saidwith signature head bob. “I wouldn’t pop out of a cake for justanyone, you know. Much less do the fox scream.”

“WHY,” Nino yelled, voice higherthan his mortared chill, still blasting off into space, “ARE YOUEVEN TRANSFORMED?”

“I won’t have to clean up,” shesaid. Her grin was equal parts smug and sly.

He groaned, laser eye beaming hisDoneness at his infuriatingly adept at messing with him girlfriend.He was so proud to call her that. Also pissed off right now. He’dgotten used to that feel cocktail. Plus, thanks to her, he wasbecoming familiarized with cake murder!

‘Yes,’ Nino thought when helooked down, ‘It’s cake carnage! RIPcake.’

“Ugh, my clothes!” Chloe,apparently, had also been showered with sweet, fluffy giblets. “Sonot worth seeing Nino’s reaction.”

“Awww,” Marinette cooed, slingingan arm around her into one of her inescapable Ladyhugs, now withadded icing. “You know it was.”

“Get off.”

Nino, mid-chuckle, found himselfpropelled sideways this time, as his rowdy bro bodyslammedinto, past, and possibly through him, with full force big Chat energyto make a messy hero huddle. It struck him, and his teeth, that hisleading boy and his leading girl were a swirling mass of chaos. Renahappened, so Chat happened, and now big Rena energy was sure to—histeeth rattled again after a brief, but all too familiar sensation offalling.

Yes. They were a dogpile now. Rena wastop dog…. Fox. Canid. Of course.

“I hate this freaking family,” cameChloe’s muffled, possibly final words.

“You love us,” Adrien said,squirming and wriggling to best assume soul squeezing hug position through the world’s worst hero sandwich.

Nino burst into laughter.

He was soon joined by a chorus oftinier laughter. Ah. There they were. The pantheon of sneaks. Hewondered if they had known to hide from experience. If they had everwitnessed a miraculous team in such a disastrous heap before, at noone’s fault but their own.

Well. Dang, if they had? Whatever. Hiscrew was doing it better.

“Thanks, dudes. Best birthday ever,”he grinned. “Tikki, though, can you not?”

The kwami stopped mid-lick at his cheek. “Sorry.”

#ml spoilers #you and boo #writing #my writing #this ask entitles the bearer to #the squad #pose as a team #nino lahiffe #marinette dupain-cheng #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste #alya césaire #rena rouge #miraculous ladybug #ourthelonelygirl18

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