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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 3 years

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Chapter 22. Compromise

“no' might make them angry but it will make you free.

- if no one has ever told you, your freedom is more important than their anger.”

― Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

[*TW: death/violence/bomb threats, neo nazi/mysoginistic hateful language]

It wasn’t the first time I removed my shoes in the middle of the grand hall, one hand to the wall, eyes to the stairs, legs shaking. I grabbed hold of my sandals and raced up the staircase three long, thin steps at a time.

In my room, I threw the shoes on the bed and rushed to the closet, putting my hair up as I did so I could then reach back and unzip my dress, but it was a futile effort. In anger, I recalled needing Lourdes’ help to zip up before dinner.

I took a deep breath and tried it on my own; but it was useless. I tried again, but on the third time all I could hear was the ressentment in Christopher’s voice when he talked about fucking me after my brother’s funeral in front of both our parents. The anger when he asked who was it that I started seeing after we broke up. More than that, I suddenly recalled every instance where I wanted to protest against something he had said or done, but thought better of it.

“Maggie?” Lourdes’ voice awoke me to the anger I was feeling. “I can’t fucking–” One look at me, and she hurried to my side, removing my hands from the dress so she could unzip me. “I got you.” She said. “There. Nothing we can’t fix, right?”

I felt the fabric loosen and pulled the suffocating halter high neck off. The tears started falling before I even realized they had been there at all, and I felt so frustrated for crying that it only made me want to cry more. I allowed my knees to buckle as I fell to the floor, hands around my neck, breathing heavily.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Lourdes said, calmly. “It’s okay.” She passed an arm around my shoulders and hugged me close, pulling me into her chest. “Nothing we can’t fix.” She repeated.

With her bony, small arms around me as a safe port, I cried the loss of the past nine years, and all the years we almost had.

--- ---- --- I had never in my life felt more alone. And yes, maybe I was being dramatic. Maybe I was amplifying a minor problem into a bigger one as a reflection of my deep anxiety about my new title and role, but the truth is it didn’t feel like that. It felt like – in fact, I was alone in my closet, looking at eight different dresses I had just put on and taken off, thinking about Louis telling me I dressed like our mother. How could I make sure I was being myself? How could I know any of my choices were my own and not just what he described as some subconscious need to be the ‘good daughter’?

There was only one person I knew to call for help with going against family expectations: Constance Parrish Von-Bernstein.

“I’m flattered.” She said when I face timed her, still half dressed on my closet floor. “You never have this type of crisis. I need to bask in it. Maybe I should make a wish.” “This is serious, Constance.” I reminded her, sighing. “I have a chance to be heard by the very people who have been pushing me around not only for the past five months, but essentially my whole life. I need to be heard, to tell them, no. To demand what I want. But I can’t even pick something to wear without feeling like a fraud. How am I supposed to be the Crown Princess when I can’t even dress myself?!” Constance looked put off; weirded out, but definitely like she saw the seriousness of the moment now. “Okay…” She started, slowly. “Well, what’s the issue exactly?” “I feel like I’ve been doing what everyone else wanted me to do my whole life, so how can I stand up for what I want now?” I laughed, humorless. “How did you do it? You wore nothing but black all through our teen years, you started dying your hair pink at eighteen, you ditched University and everything else your parents tried to push you into doing to become a musician! How?! How do I do that?!” She smiled, amused. “Well, Maggie… I guess first and foremost we need to accept there is a big difference between being the first member of my family in nine generations not to go to Sorbonne to live my dream of playing guitar in the subway, and knowing what to wear as the Crown Princess.” “I gather from your tone you think my issue is easier. It certainly doesn’t feel like it.” I scratched my head, pensive. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to trade positions with you, either. But you were just juggling parental expectations. I am juggling the whole country’s.” “Yes… I can’t argue there.” “So, again… how?!” She sighed, propped her phone up against something and leaned back staring off into a wall as she considered the question. “You need to know what you’re willing to lose.” She said, determined. “What does that mean?” “Well, I wore black as a teenager because it was one of the few things I could control. But I still had to wear whatever my mother told me to at more important occasions. Christmas, family occasions, formal events with your family… there was no way she would risk letting me decide what to wear to those.” As she recounted, I searched my brain to find the memories of a grumpy, teen Constance looking as pretty in pastel as the rest of us in tea parties and polo matches. “At eighteen, I received the first pay out of my trust fund from my paternal grandparents, so I knew even if my mother decided to disown me, I could afford to live on my own. So I dyed my hair pink.” “Wait, I–” I shook my head. “I had no idea that’s what you thought would happen! Your mother would never!” “Well, we both know she would.” She smiled, amused but also slightly sad. “She hasn’t, though. Which is good, I guess. We did have a lot of fights about it, not just the hair, but Sorbonne and everything else, too. The first pay out of the trust was supposed to be for University, and I used it to buy a scooter and a new guitar.” “You live a pretty simple life, though. And it’s your money, you should do what you want.” “Exactly!” She replied, excitedly. “But that’s my point, your family is dependent on taxpayer funding, right?” “Well–” I stuttered. “Not quite. We’re funded by the Royal Trust.” “Which is funded by the government with allocation of tax funds, right?” “Well…” “Chérie, I’m not trying to get evidence for the republican party here. I’m making a point.” “Yes, okay.” I shrugged. “Yes, some of our funds are from the Royal Trust, and a lot of it is private funds from family inheritances, private property, and investments–” “Okay, so.” She continued. “If you get to the meeting and tell them you want something, and they say no. What’s stopping you from insisting? From doing it anyway? It’s not a crime to go against them, right?” “Well–” I reflected. “What I mean is, I waited to dye my hair until I had my trust fund so my mother couldn’t hold my finances against me. Money was freedom. So, if your family threatens to no longer fund you, what will you do? You don’t have a job anymore.” “Well, I…” I sighed. I never had to think about money before. “I do have a trust fund, too, from my great-grandfather. And I’m twenty-five, so the inheritance from my maternal grandfather should be available to me now.” “Well, there you go. So, what can they do if you insist on having it your way?” She asked, with a grin. “Throw you in jail?” She was right. Money was freedom. “I guess there’s only the main question left.” “Which is?” “What do I wear?!” I asked, making us both laugh at the despair evident in my voice. “It’s not just about the clothes.” I justified, more to myself than to her. “I’m afraid I’ll get there, and they’ll be looking at me like I’m a child who should be off playing with something unimportant instead of trying to play pretend with the adults.” “Maggie,” Constance started, laughing, “you’re a Harvard graduated lawyer. You have a solid, successful career you left for this. They need you, you don’t need them. In fact, you’re doing them a favor.” “I’m not sure that’s how they would describe it.” “They can dress it up however they want, facts are facts.” She shrugged. “You know how to stand up for yourself and get shit done, because you’ve done it before. You worked on the corporate world for years. So, stop acting like they’re doing you a favor by allowing you to be there, and start using your experience to shove it in their faces that you’re way overqualified for this.”

She was right; I had a solid, sucessful – if short – career, and at work, I dressed as a lawyer, if anything to remind people I was not just a princess. So I spent the rest of the day repeating the mantra to myself: Constance is right. Constance is right. Constance is right. With that in mind, I dressed pretending I had a big meeting at work: a short sleeved, high neck, satin Jason Wu dress with simple black heels and gold and black earrings.

Then I went to work.

In my mind, this battle would take place around a long, imposing conference room table, where I’d sit in the middle, with all relevant parties around me. The reality was less corporate: my father’s office. High ceilings, chandeliers, antique paintings and vases around the room, and, of course, the victorian furniture. Dad and I sat in armchairs by the fireplace, side by side, his main staff took their seats on the couple of sofas to our sides, and the others, after the three chairs around my father’s desk were taken, brought in extra chairs from other rooms.

One thing I noticed straight away.

“Where’s Cadie?” I asked dad on a low tone, as everyone took their seats. “I thought it would be in poor taste to discuss her with her in the room.” He explained. “You’ll notice Auguste isn’t here, either.”

Present in the room were around a dozen more people, most of whom I had known all of my life, though some more closely than others. That was the case with my parents’ private secretaries, the title we gave to our chief of staff, Clemment Montennon and Madaleign Qadir. I also recognized Abelard Brodeur, my father’s senior aide, Ulysses Caron, the Head of Security, and Edwald Dupont, Head of the Palace Communications Office.

My father made introductions of those I hadn’t had too much contact with before, like Caesar Bisset, head of Outreach Relations, who explained his main role was to coordinate and plan our charitable and humanitarian endeavors, and Alexander Halden, who was liason of relations between the palace and the government.

All of them sat in the sofas, all of them (but Madeleign Qadir) were balding, old, white men with mustaches and resting judgy faces. The people sitting in the chairs in the back, I realized, were their junior aides, with notepads and pens, ready to take notes or provide useful material during the meeting.

I started to feel more at home at once: hierarchy was familiar to me. I had been the lowly intern once, trying to remain as quiet and invisible as possible in the background, writing as fast as I could, desperate to prove myself in the first opportunity to the older men who held my faith in their hands.

I reminded myself that wasn’t the case here. I was the future Queen of Savoy, they worked for me. They needed me. I held my head high and squared my shoulders back.

“Thank you all for making room in your schedules for this meeting.” My father started, in French. “As this meeting was set somewhat suddenly, perhaps we should go over our goals for today before we start. In truth, I believe today is a culmination of what has been…” He paused, and heaved a long, heavy sigh. “Some tremendously difficult last few months. As we’re all aware, after we lost the Crown Prince last year, as my eldest child, Princess Marie-Margueritte became Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Discreetly, I fidgeted with my hands so the nail in my right thumb was gently scratching my left palm. I gulped, trying to swallow the familiar knot on my throat. ‘I have to be able to talk about this without crying. I need to talk about this to get through this meeting. I can’t cry in front of these people.’

“We took a few months to allow us all to grieve properly, as a family, and also as a country. There was also the need for the Crown Princess to make the necessary arrangements to leave her private career behind and, as we discussed around the time of the funeral, to put distance between her previous image and the new one she must take on in order to fulfill this new role.”

So they had discussed this at the time of the funeral. A need to ‘put distance’ between who I was and who I needed to become. And I wasn’t even included.

“But it is a new year.” Father continued, with renewed energy. “Crown Princess Marie-Margueritte and I have had a private discussion and we have decided the time has come for her to take a more active role in the process of preparation for her future as Monarch.”

He paused, allowing the words to settle. I still stared at my own hands, trying to breathe deeply and slowly. ‘Preparation for her future as Monarch’ sounded so… crucial. Important. Fatal, almost.

“So,” he said, now more upbeat, adjusting himself in his seat, “with that in mind, we arrive at the agenda for this meeting as discussed by the Crown Princess and I. We are to discuss and decide on the plans regarding the Crown Princess’ future work, security, and office in her new role as the heir apparent.”

There was a pause. I waited. My father looked at me, then at the others.

“Perhaps it would be useful to start with providing the Crown Princess with an update on what the current situation is with regards to the public opinion.” The king added. “Edwald?”

Mr. Dupont, Head of the Communications Office, a man reasonably young in comparison to the others, pushed his glasses up his nose with his pinky, opened a folder in his lap, and began to speak.

“Right. Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness. We are still monitoring what the press knows in regards to the Crown Princess’ extended stay in Britain. As of now, seems we were able to get the Crown Princess back in the country without them finding out, but we will continue to stay alert for any rumors in that regard.”

“Do they know about Princess Lourdes-Abigail’s suspension?” My father asked. “As far as we are aware, sir, no.” Mr. Dupont replied. “We do have at the moment, though, requests for comment on a poll the Sunday Gazette ran online where 71% of respondents didn’t agree with the statement: ‘the Royal Family has kept an active working role after the death of Crown Prince Louis-Adolphe’.” My father sighed, gravely. “Did we give them a comment?” “No, sir. An online poll of no impact.” Mr. Dupont returned. “Most people just vote to see the estimated results, or because they’re bored.” “Good.” He nodded. “Go on.” “Regard–” “Wait, of how many?” I interrupted. “Pardon?” “How many people answered the poll?” “71%, ma’am.” “No, 71% of how many people? What’s the total of respondents?” “Oh, uh.” He looked through the papers on his folder again. Behind Mr. Dupont, an aide got up from his chair and handed him a couple more sheets of paper. “Ah, right. The total number of respondents in the poll was 61,359, ma’am.” “Were they given an abstention option?” “No, ma’am, only agree or disagree.” I nodded. Mr. Dupont went on. “As I was saying–” “Sorry,” I interrupted again, “One last thing, promise, do you have the analytics numbers?” “The–?” Mr. Dupont seemed confused. I looked at the aide behind him, a young man with freckles. “Sir? What’s your name?” His eyes grew wide. “M-me?” I smiled. “Yes, sir.” “Matthew.” “’Ma’am’”, his boss corrected. “Matthew, ma’am.” The aide repeated. “Do you happen to have the analytics data on this poll, Matthew?” “Uhm. Well, not a full analytics report, ma’am. But I do have a print out of the webpage, so I have a sharing estimate for social media.” “What are you talking about?” My father asked, confused. “Analytics is a… a tool to interpret patterns of data from basically anything.” I summarized. “On websites that run polls, it could be useful to know how many people viewed it as many might have just viewed it, but not voted, which doesn’t mean they weren’t influenced by it. And any new article online has an option for the reader to share it on their social media platforms, so that’s what Matthew will tell me next.” “Well, the data is rounded up, we don’t have the details.” Matthew explained. “Well, then we can skip it.” My father said. “That’s a point for another meeting, Margueritte. Let’s focus on our agenda today.” I wanted to argue, but before I could gather the courage, Mr. Dupont went on about me next, which was distracting enough to make me let the subject go. “Regarding the press on the Crown Princess specifically,” Mr. Dupont continued, “The months following the funeral saw a record high number of press profiling her biography, and of course there were the, uhm, ‘viral’ issues.” “Viral issues?” I asked, when he used a strange tone on the word ‘viral’. “The…mainstream section of the world, ma’am, meaning those outside of Savoy and who otherwise seemed to be uninterested in the story of The Royal Family of Savoy, were very interested to discover it’s new heir was a former military servicewomen–” “I–” I stuttered, “I only did the minimum service of 6 months.” “They don’t seem to care about the specifics.” He replied. “They did show a lot of interest for the picture of you in uniform during a drill, which was released through the palace at the time.” He added, shrugging slightly. “The Americans, specifically, seemed excited about your time in Harvard and New York, and a lot of articles were written with testimonials from people who, at least, claim to have studied with you at the time.” “Oh.” I said, uncomfortable. “What–what did they say?” “Positive things.” Mr. Dupont replied, short. “Though, at home, despite the King’s vow of faith in Her Royal Highness during the Crown Prince’s funeral, Savoyen press remains… unconvinced of your… capabilities.”

I looked at my father, who was staring at his hands, absentmindedly. So this was why my father had used his eulogy to public declare his confidence in me in the role. Not because it was true. It was a PR move. No wonder he didn’t want to answer my question afterwards.

“What ar-” I stuttered. “Do you know any specifics of their criticism?” “They seem to worry about your work record the most, ma’am.” He replied. “Not a lot of royal work, some rumors of controversial stances as a lawyer, and uh. Not enough… How to best describe it? Personality, I suppose.” “They think I’m boring.” I helped. Seeming uncomfortable, he nodded. “International press definitely doesn’t, though.” He said. “And they have greatly influenced public opinion at home. It is very likely our national press is… upset they haven’t been given any insight on what your future will look like.”

‘And who’s fault is that?’, I thought, bitterly.

“Speaking of work,” I started, “Shall we talk about that next?” “Before we do,” my father said, before looking at Mr. Dupont, “what about the new development from last night? Where do we stand?” Confused, I looked around the room, but other than Montennon, Qadir, and Mr. Dupont himself, everyone else seemed confused as well. “We are closely monitoring the situation, but not rumors as of yet, sit.” He replied. “But I reiterate it would be best to get ahead of it.” “What happened last night?” I asked.

My father fixed me with such a dry expression I felt almost unbearably embarrassed for having forgotten: the Chris breakup.

“Oh.” I said, awkwardly. “Right.” “We’ll get back to you, Edwald.” My father told him. “Now, what need we discuss regarding your work, Margueritte?” “Well,” I started, pausing quickly to take in a deep breath, before reaching down at the ground for the folder I had left under my chair.

I opened it to find the copies I had made of the proposal I prepared the previous year while using anything I could to distract myself from the grief, and passed it around the room.

“This a summarized version, but I can have a more detailed one made tonight if you wish,” I prefaced, walking back to my seat after handing them each a copy, “I used a business proposal model, so forgive me if I might have missed any important information.”

The proposal detailed causes and organizations I wanted to focus on. I was patron of a handful of charities currently, and if I was to work full time as a royal, priority number one was to get that number up. It was work that I liked: useful, helpful work that made a difference in people’s lives.

But most importantly: it was a way of honoring my brother. I had experience with ‘easy’ causes: elderly care, childcare, things that were easy for anyone to empathize with, things that anyone would agree matters. To put it simply: things that wouldn’t ruffle feathers on the press.

This time I picked causes that mattered to me, and it mattered to me to make the kind of impact that my brother would have.

“This is impressive, ma’am.” Said Caesar Bisset, the Head of Outreach Relations. “Truly inspirational.” The others nodded, appreciatively. No one said anything else. “But?” I prodded. They looked at each other. Mr. Bisset gulped, smiling uncomfortably. “Some of these causes, although greatly important, would not send the right message, ma’am.” “What causes do you see a problem with, exactly?” I asked, as calmly as could be. “Not me, ma’am!” He corrected, quickly. “I mean, to the public, to the press, there could be a lot of misunderstanding around some of these areas.” “Such as?” “Margueritte,” my father started, with a careful smile. “As you know there is still a large amount of people in Savoy who identify as catholics, and as the representatives of the faith in the country, we have a responsibility.” “I understand.” I assured him, lying. “But I would still like to hear the specifics of what the issues would be.”

He looked at Mr. Bisset, who nodded.

“Well, ma’am,” he started, “as an example, take this idea, item two, where you express a wish of becoming a patron of Flag House, an organization devoted to providing support to homosexual youth…” “They provide counseling for those with unaccepting families, housing for LGBT people living in an unsafe and unwelcoming environment, and even classes to get them on a path towards a career or to further their education.” “Yes.” He nodded. “And the issue of homosexualism is still somewhat–” “Homosexuality.” “Pardon?” “You said ‘ism’.” I explained, sighing. “That’s a terminology used for diseases and health issues. The correct word is homosexuality.” He nodded. “Oh. Right. Still–” “And they don’t just work with gay people.” I expanded. “The LGBT community is wide. Trans people’s life expectancy is 35 years-old in Savoy, and they are around 65% of all sex workers and 73% of all unhoused people in the country.” “No one is saying the organisation isn’t good, Margueritte.” My father argued. “But there is a reason we don’t just announce patronages. There’s a lot of research that goes into this, a lot of prep work–” “And that’s what I want to do.” I replied. “We could be halfway done with the prep work if we had set the wheels in motion the first time I did this research, but I sent August this material in November last year and never heard anything.” Mr. Montennon, Auguste’s boss, who would have told him not to get back to me, fidgeted in his chair. “The issue would simply be too polemic, ma’am.” “So would be standing up against slavery before the 19th century, but King Willem III did it anyway.” I replied. “It’s not exactly the same, sweetheart.” “Why not?” I asked. “Look at the research I just gave you. Our job is standing up for the marginalized, today the most marginalized community in our society are the unhoused, specially trans sex workers of color who are kicked out of their homes at a young age due to bigotry.” “Our job is to serve the country.” My father insisted. “But part of that is knowing what the country needs from us. And largely, Savoy is just not ready for this type of work.”

He uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees to look at me.

“Margueritte, you have a difficult job ahead of you. I know that like few people can. So let me assure you, the most important thing to succeed here is knowing how and when to compromise.” He paused, intensely. “And when not to. This is not something we can compromise on.”

I heaved a long, unsatisfied sigh. I wish I could have told him of Louis. I wish I could have told him how much this mattered to him. How much he spoke of his own privilege, of knowing that no matter how big the fear of being rejected was, he knew he would never need to fear for his safety like so many in his community did. I wish I could have told my father this, as I knew it might have changed his mind.

“So, Mr. Bisset, from this proactive document my daughter has given us, what do we think would be a good fit for her to work with?” Mr. Bisset looked away from my father into the paper in his lap again. “Well, sir, we would need to tweak a few of the specifics, but this suggestion for a partnership with some of the Universities in Savoy for a series of discussion panels on important issues for the population has a lot of potential.” “Ah,” my father replied, appreciatively. “Progress!” I gulped, suppressing a roll of my eyes at the condescension. “Won’t that just make me look more boring?” I asked. “I want to do it, but it would be better to balance it with something else, too, wouldn’t it? How about the patronage of the Claire Bauton Foundation?” Mr. Bisset nodded. “Women’s issues is a wonderful topic, ma’am, and would be a good fit as the public is very interested in the prospect of Savoy’s first Queen in her own right in over three centuries. I’ll do some research on it.” “Perfect.” My father said, happily. “Next?”

I sighed, fidgeting with my own hands; mouth dry.

“Perhaps we might go over the Crown Princess’ household, sir.” Montennon said. “Seeing as we are discussing work, her team would have to coordinate with Bisset on any upcoming projects.” He nodded. “Let’s. Please, Clemment, would you explain to us again the reason for appointing Auguste Authier as the Crown Princess’ Private Secretary.” “Of course, sir.” Montennon replied. “Ma’am, the gist of the matter comes down threefold. One, tradition.”

C. C. Montennon had been my father’s Private Secretary for almost two decades. He knew me from when I was still a bony, annoying child, but that wasn’t the reason he spoke ��down’ at me. In fact, he had a gift of always appearing uppity whenever he said anything at all, even to royalty.

Montennon explained that traditionally, royal Private Secretaries were trained by their predecessor, the senior Secretary working for the Monarch. That way, every Monarch had a secretary that had been trained in the staff of the previous Monarch by the previous Monarch’s Secretary.

“This way every Private Secretary has the most complete knowledge one can have of the royal household and work.” He said. “So that fewer mistakes are made.”

I considered his words for a while. The logic seemed fine, it was the execution that I had an issue with.

“The second point, of course,” he went on, “is the matter of nationality.” “Seriously?” I interrupted. “Because Cadie is American?” “Ms. Mendel’s nationality could send the wrong messaging if she was selected for the highest position in your household, ma’am.” “Will I have to pretend I didn’t go to University in America, either?” “Margueritte, please.” My father said, scratching both eyes with his hand. “I think it’s a reasonable question considering this logic.” I argued. “The role of the Monarch, ma’am, and thus the role of the Crown Prince–uh, Princess is to represent and lead the country to the best of his–sorry, her abilities.” He explained, repeatedly stuttering on the need to correct himself, “and to hire a foreigner to such a high position would indicate you did not find a Savoyen of equal ability or trust.” “Or alternatively,” I argued, “that I hired the best person to the job and promoted her when the opportunity arose.”

Judging by the looks they all exchanged, I could see that was a battle lost.

“In order to do good work I have to be the one to choose my own staff.” I insisted. “It makes no sense otherwise. I assure you I am perfectly capable of hiring the objectively best person for the job.” “I assure you, ma’am,” Montennon insisted, “I have been overlooking Mr. Auguste Authier’s training for the past ten years and he is the most qualified man to prepare you for the difficult role ahead.” “You said it was threefold. What’s the third reason?” I asked Montennon. He sighed. “Well, ma’am, it’s hierarchy. Much of the Royal Family works as any business, and Auguste Authier has seniority. He’s been a member of the Royal staff longer and it would be inappropriate to promote Ms. Mendel to a higher position when she hasn’t earned it.” “As the person who she’s been working for since being hired I’d argue she has.” I contradicted. “Auguste has been training for a decade to assist the next Monarch, Margueritte.” My father told me, softly. “Cadence is too young. What if we compromise by looking into training her as an aide, Clemment? She would be a good assistant to Auguste, don’t you think? I’m sure they would work well together, right?”

I was sure they wouldn’t; Cadie was only a few years older than me, and Auguste was almost old enough to be our father. He had never respected Cadie’s abilities or my choice in hiring her. That was part of why I didn’t want to work with him in the first place.

“It would simply be too disruptive to disregard the plans that have been in motion for years regarding the staff of the next future Monarch.” Montennon finished. “But that hierarchy, those plans, were established when my brother was the heir.” I said, bravely but, also, timidly. “Not me. If we have to adapt to a new heir, and the new heir has to adapt to the work, it makes sense that the hierarchy and plans have to be adapted too, right?”

They seemed in no rush to reply. The silence floated around the room for a few seconds before my father sighed.

“It’s not how this works, I’m afraid.” He said. “Should we move on?”

And that was that. Another compromise. One word from the King and that matter was, apparently, closed.

Mr. Caron, the Head of Security, cleared his throat and sat a little taller as he began to speak. “Sir, if I may?” My father nodded his way, and he went on. Looking at me, an intense expression on his face, he said, “Ma’am, while we are discussing staffing choices… The occurence in Britain with your detail on the train…”

I tried to brace myself for a scolding, dreading everything around me, wishing I could go to my room.

“I wish to assure you no such thing will ever happen again. The officers in question have been severely reprimanded, suspended and will retake training upon returning to work. We take the incident extremely seriously and hope this won’t permanently shake your confidence in your security.” I stuttered, awkwardly. “Oh, that–That’s fine. Really, I’m fine. I didn’t even know they’d been suspended.” “Their only job is to keep you safe, and they lost you for three days.” My father remarked, calmly, not looking at me. “They are lucky to keep their jobs.” “Right.” I nodded, nervously. “Of course… Speaking of which. The… incident, as you called it, was indeed unfortunate, of course, but since the topic has been brought up, I suppose it is as good a time as any to talk about my security detail in general. The truth is I was already uncomfortable with it before.” “Uncomfortable, ma’am?” Mr. Caron asked, “Regarding the officers? Their competence?” “No, not at all.” I shook my head. “I mean, I spent the previous decade and a half with Joyce as my primary officer. She went with me to America, to University, and in every job I ever had.” He nodded. “Of course, ma’am. The bond that many years of service creates is, of course, highly valued in this field. It is essential for the work we do.” “I’m glad you think so.” I smiled. “Because I would like for Joyce to be reinstated as my primary Protection Officer.” Mr. Caron took in a long breath, watching the wall behind me. “Ma’am, though I appreciate how difficult such a structural change is, the fact is that Ms. Espinoza–uhm, Joyce, that is, simply does not have the proper, more advanced, specified training an officer for this position needs.”

“Why is that?”

The room was quiet. One by one, they all exchanged a look with the person closer to them and then looked at me.

Mr. Caron spoke. “Why is what, ma’am?” “As a member of Palace security staff, why doesn’t Joyce Espinoza have the proper training needed to work for a senior royal?” “Oh, well, ma’am, see…” He started, “Our officers receive personalized training for the specific work that they will be assigned to. That way every royal family member can be sure they are in the right hands for the level of security threat they are under.” “But…” I started, “Doesn’t that just create a gap in the abilities of the staff? Don’t you then just have some officers who are qualified for harder jobs and some who aren’t?”

They were quiet. Mr. Caron opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, pensively.

“Margueritte, this meeting is not meant to reevaluate how we do staff training.” My father objected. “Maybe it should.” I argued, causing him to look at me, brows raised. But he ignored my point. “We are here to discuss your staff and the fact is Ms. Espinoza does not have the proper training to keep you safe.” Before I could argue, he added, louder, “That is not something we are compromising on. Not your safety.”

I sighed.

“Ulysses, do you have the security file on the Crown Princess?” Mr. Caron looked at my father with wider eyes. “Y-yes, sir. I have the raw file with me, but it hasn’t been… filtered.” “Good. Show it to her.”

Awkwardly, Mr. Caron received a separate, larger file from the aide sitting near the window. He got to his feet and walked over to me.

I opened the file to an identification page; it contained most of my personal information from my full name, age, hair color and length to weight, height, and identifying marks, like the barely visible, tiny scar I had on my left knee from a bike fall as a child (I noticed the absence of my tattoo). I looked at Caron.

“What am I looking at?” “Well–” He started. “That is what your security needs to have on their minds every second of their working day.” My father answered instead.

When I turned the page, I realized the following pages were separated by date. The first was marked only a couple of days after Louis’ death. It read:

‘Letter received by the Neunant Post. Unmarked. Security camera footage resulted in no suspects of delivery. It reads:

THE THRONE MUST NOT GO TO PRINCESS MARIE MARGUERITE. WOMAN ARE INFERIOR TO MEN AND THE RIGHT ORDER OF CIVIL SOCIETY CANNOT BE UNDERMINED. LET THE GOVERNMENT BE ADVISED: SHOULD THE PRINCESS BE ANNOUNCED AS THE NEXT HEIR THERE WILL BE AN ATTACK ON POINTE CALLOIS BRIDGE. WE ARE AN ORGANIZATION DEDICATED TO RETURNING SAVOY TO ITS FORMER GLORY. PRINT THIS LETTER ON THE FRONT PAGE OR PEOPLE WILL DIE…’

With my heart beating almost painfully in my throat, I looked at my father. He wasn’t looking at me. He wasn’t looking at anyone. His eyes were opened, but he was seeing something I could not see.

I turned the page. The next few threats were prints of hate comments on news sites, but they seemed slightly superficial compared to the first. I noticed they had a yellow sticker to the up corner of the page, whereas the first one had a red one. I turned the pages, finding another red one marked about a week after the first. It read:

‘Letter dropped on the gates of Callois Palace among the messages of condolences for Crown Prince Louis. Security Camera footage could not identify the suspect amongst the crowd. It read:

REST IN PEACE OUR GOOD ARYAN KING LOUIS ADOLPHE!!! THE THRONE WILL NEXT GO TO OUR ALPHA PRINCE ADRIEN WHO WILL LEAD THE COUNTRY INTO PROSPERITY. PASSING THE CROWN INTO PRINCE LOUIS ADOLPHE’S SISTERS WOULD TURN THE COUNTRY INTO A RADICAL LIBERAL HELL IT MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN. THE KING MUST ANNOUNCE THE PRINCESSES WILL NOT INHERIT LIKE HIS SISTERS DIDNT. DO NOT DISMISS THIS. IN CASE THIS ISNT ANNOUNCED THE PRINCESSES WILL BE A FATALITY OF THE BATTLE FOR THE SURVIVAL OF SAVOY. YOU HAVE FIVE DAYS.

The following page contained a drawing of a symbol in red paint. Analysis confirmed it was pig blood. Symbol under analysis by the Interpol.’

I gulped, painfully, mouth dry. “Did they ever have an answer for what the symbol was?” Though I wasn’t looking at him, Mr. Caron asnwered softly, “With assistance from the NSA, ma’am, they believe it is linked to a jihadist terrorist organization.”

I turned a few more pages, hands shaking. Dated from a few weeks after Louis’ death, to a couple of months after, to just two weeks ago, they were prints of online messages, discord servers, reddit discussion threads, untraceable Twitter accounts, throw-away emails, sent to official royal email addresses, physical Palace address, personal email accounts of staff members, journalists, and any number of random people who dared say anything positive about us online.

‘THE CROWN PRINCESS ATTENDS BODY WORK GYM NEAR HER APARTMENT MOST MORNINGS AT 8AM FROM MONDAY TO FRIDAY. SHE ALWAYS PARKS IN THE SECOND FLOOR GARAGE. SHE LOOKS HOT IN LEGGINGS TOO BAD SHE’LL GET BLOWN UP NEXT TIME SHE IS THERE’

‘THE USURPER MARIE MARGUERITTE WILL DIE KING ADRIEN DOWN WITH THE FEMINAZIS WHO WEAKENED OUR MILITARY BY INCENTIVIZING WOMEN TO SERVE AND NOW WOULD WEAKEN OUR NOBLE ROYAL FAMILY’S BLOODLINE. YOU WILL NEVER FIND ME BUT YOU WILL SOON KNOW MY NAME I WILL CARVE IT IN HER SKIN. I KNOW THE ADDRESS OF HER WORK AND THE RESTAURANT SHE EATS AT WITH COWORKERS. THEIR NAMES ARE SOPHIE THE DAUGHTER OF THE CORRUPT MEDIA MOGUL AND LARISSA THE UGLY IMMIGRANT. SHE WILL NEVER BE QUEEN’

‘I AM A HIGHLY TRAINED FORMER MILITARY CAPTAIN PRINCESS MARIE MUST NOT HAVE A CONFIRMATION CEREMONY. IF YOU HAVE A CEREMONY WE WILL CARRY OUT A MASSIVE ATTACK AGAINST THE ATTENDEES. I HAVE AT MY DISPOSAL A SEMI AUTOMATIC RIFFLE AND A COLLECTION OF PIPE BOMBS.I DO NOT WANT TO SPILL PURE SAVOYEN BLOOD. I AM GIVING YOU A CHANCE. CANCEL THE CONFIRMATION AND ANNOUNCE THE ABDICATION OF PRINCESS MARIE IN FAVOR OF PRINCE ADRIEN OR ONE WAY OR ANTOHER I WILL MAKE SURE THEY DIE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED’

A few of the pages detailed untraceable phone calls made to official, unlisted numbers inside the palace. There was a collective letter sent by chief editors of the major Savoy newspapers detailing a rise in what they describe as ‘the worst kind of harassing, toxic, hateful comments’ ever before targeted at the royal family in general, but specifically, me.

The next few pages had, chillingly, photographs. It was hard to focus enough to read the text around them, but according to the captions they had all been sent by physical mail or email, some having been discovered by police in ‘intercepted phones’.

“Wha–what are intercepted phones?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper. Ulysses Caron’s reply matched my tone. “Phones intercepted by police during reids, investigations or after criminals are arrested. Some were found internationally and sent to Savoy Police.”

I nodded as though I didn’t have another million follow up questions. The photos were of me, but in cases when I had been photographed with other people, there were pictures of them as well.

They were pictures of me walking my dogs near my apartment, in Tallmound, before Louis died. Pictures of me walking to and from the parking lot at work, both before Louis died and on the day I went to quit. Pictures of me in the gardens of the Palace, in some places we knew people could see from the gates. It didn’t usually bother us as it wasn’t an issue unless they were watching to wait for us.

These weren’t paparazzi pictures, they were worse. Grainy, from farther away, from an upper angle – drones? My head hurt. I felt dizzy. My stomach ached. In one picture, I was walking near the beach with Lourdes in Corsilla.

I looked up at Mr. Caron, realizing the room had fallen into a deep, strained silence as they waited for me to say anything.

“My sister. Is she–is she pictured, too?” Mr. Caron looked at my father before replying. I did, too. He was still quietly looking inwards. “Yes, ma’am.” Mr. Caron said, finally. “Not as frequently. But there has also been a recent rise.” I fought back tears. “And–Did th–Louis?” I stuttered. He nodded, gravely.

I closed the folder with a thud. I looked away, at the windows. The sun was setting outside.

“Don’t you see…?” I asked, weakly. “This is why we can’t train our officers differently.” I looked back at them. “You’re deciding that some of us receive more threats than others and therefore we need different security, but what is stopping anyone who wishes to harm us from harming someone we love to get to us?!” “I assure you, ma’am, all our officers are highly trained to the task they need to perform–”

I got to my feet, breathless. Slowly, I walked around the chair and rested a hand on it, the other now clutching the heavy folder. I thought of my brother reminding me to stand up for myself, and of the reminder Harry had written in the book he sneaked into my bag.

I looked back at them, and sighed.

“You are going to double the number of protection officers in my sister’s detail.” I said, as authoritative as I could. “Double–?” Mr. Caron started. “And Cadence Mendel is going to be my Private Secretary.” I said, as if I hadn’t been interrupted. “Auguste can stay on for support. He can be a… consulting aide. I’m sure his experience will be valuable.” “Margueritte.” My father started. I did not acknowledge him. “Joyce Espinoza will head my security detail.” “Ma’am, she does not have the necessary training–” “Then train her!” I said. “It is not enough for security to be well trained, clearly, as your supposedly highly trained officers were sleeping while I ran off in London. If they had known me, if I had trusted them, like I do with Joyce, I assure you that would not have happened.” He didn’t have an answer. He did look at my father though, helplessly. “Training is not enough, Mr. Caron. Our security is with us wherever we go, we must trust them. Intimacy isn’t a replacer for training, either, so let’s work on both. Okay?” “Margueritte.” My father tried again. “Why don’t we talk about this privately?” “That won’t be necessary.” I replied. “It would have been useful months ago, after Louis passed. Now I don’t need to, anymore.” I looked at him, finally, calmly. “I will do good work, dad. I will. I will do work that I am proud to do, and that Louis would have been proud of, too. And I will be happy to do it. But let it be known that I will do it because I am choosing to do it.” I looked at the rest of them. “I did not want this.” I confessed. “I wish for nothing more than for my brother to be in this meeting instead of me. But I am all you have.”

Still, they were silent.

“Well, I will do it. Not because I have to. What can you do, really, if I refuse to? Throw me in jail?” I echoed Constance’s words, a humorless grin in my lips. “You need me. You have me. So, I am willing to discuss my work. But we will not compromise on my staff, or on my security. Or Lourdes’ security.” “Margueritte.” My father repeated, more forcefully now. “I am a lawyer. A good one.” I stopped him, angrily. “I had my own life before this and I can get it back. Say no and I will just send a resume and get another job next week.” I told them, daringly, shrugging. “I do not need or want the Crown. If you want to take it, this is what I need. If not,” I sighed, heavily, “well, let’s hope Lourdes is ready to be Queen.”

I waited, breathing heavily, anxious, hands shaking. My father said nothing else. Neither did any of the others. I could barely see them through my anger.

“I expect my Private Secretary to get in touch in the next twenty-four hours so we can get to work. If not,” I sighed, “You can expect my abdication letter by the end of the week.”

With that, I turned on my heels, and left the room.

--- ---- ---

Business Bitch Outfit

[A/N: ITS 6 AM AND I HAVE NOT SLEPT. I HAVE WORK IN 5 HOURS. I HAVE A HEADACHE. THIS IS ALL TO SAY PLEASE FORGIVE ANY SPELLING/GRAMMAR/NONSENSE MISTAKES. Seriously, I am so grateful for your patience. I had to move out of my house in 2 weeks into a much more expensive apartment. First time I had to do the whole moving process thing (long story) and it is not great. 0/10 do not recomend. Why do I own stuff? Also my job is not going well. I fully expect to be let go in January. Maybe I am being a paranoid anxious bitch maybe I am being a self aware queen. We’ll see. But it’s definitely the second option. Anyway, I’m all unpacked now and loving living alone for the first time ever. I think that’s all I needed to say. Oh, also, I did some research for the death threat part but -- thankfully -- I am not fully versed on it, so sorry if its a little cringe? Anyway. Let me know your thoughts?! What do you think will happen? Will Maggie’s boss bitch ultimatum work?! Will the dramatic Chris breakup leak to the papers?! Tune in next week to find out! LOVE YOU!]

#Princeharryff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryfanfiction #Princeharryfanfic #prince harry #brf #modern royalty au #modern royalty fanfic #fanfiction #OPITCphff #chapters #sorry i said bitch like 3 times in this AN #i cannot stress this enough #it is 6am

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

Text

Random FAHC scenario where Gavin and Fiona meet up in the Europes before joining the FAHC AU and it’s like.

Gavin is this Cool Hacker and Fiona’s just...Fiona? Like. Fighty, but also a horribly human being/kindred spirit with Gavin and they’re like :DDDDDDDDDDDD when they realize they’re horrible human beings?

Sniper buddies on the side, too, because of course.

And they pal around for a while until there’s this Shiny they want to steal because reasons, only it’s been confiscated as evidence or is just taking up a place of pride somewhere with ridiculous amounts of security around it and they’d need all these resources and the whatnot they don’t have access to.

But then they’re vegetating somewhere and watching tv shows and on comes some detective show with the police consultant who is Super Sleuth not unlike Sherlock Holmes and they’re rolling their eyes because wow, terrible writing and worse execution of premise and the acting.

But.

It percolates in their brains for a while until they thing about the Shiny again and one of them is like “Hey, remember that asshole from that show?”

Because police consultant and such, privy to all kinds of things other people aren’t and somehow that translates in a Brilliant Idea of them pulling a Brilliant Plan.

One in which Gavin (because British) plays the Super Sleuth with Fiona as his assistant.

(The thing where she’s younger and, you know, a woman, which hahaha, the police/authorities they’re planning to fuck with are horrible mysoginists and it works to their advantage.)

ANYWAY.

It’s a long play, this plan of theirs in which they wow the cops with Gavin’s Super Sleuth-ness, which is just him and Fiona with the computer hacking and intel gathering and also, maybe, paying off some randos to help make them look like totally legit Super Sleuth and Assistant looking to become police consultants and so on.

Gain trust and respect and all this, and working their way to getting better access to the Shiny.

Actually put some legit criminal-types behind bars, naturally making new and exciting enemies along the way. Said criminal-types were real scumbags or potential hindrances or something along those lines.

After however long they manage to steal the Shiny and the police never figure out it’s them behind it?

But England/Europe is dangerous for them with the enemies they made or maybe they’re just bored of it or there’s a new Shiny for them in America, so!

Off to America they go, leaning hard on the Super Sleuth thing they’ve got going and work their way towards Los Santos building up this reputation for themselves as they go?

Like.

Minor celebrities kind of thing while stealing all the Shiniies that catch their eye along the way.

And then Los Santos, right?

Not exactly ideal for their shenanigans in which the cops don’t want people like them sniffing out all the corruption and the whatnot, but there’s this big Thing, some special Shiny and its owner has heard ever so much about the two of them.

Wants them helping keep it secure and all that - which, okay??? - and they’re like okay???

Plan to steal the Shiny and make a run for it before anyone catches on?

But the night of the big gala/party whatever where it’s meant to be on display there are all these suspicious characters wandering around.

Gavin flirting with this one guy who waltzes up to him at the refreshment table, all southern charm and pretty blue eyes and such a gentleman?

Fiona’s off to the side like jfc, just bone already because it’s ridiculous?

And then!

The power cuts out and when the lights come back on the Shiny is missing!!1!

The owner of the Shiny lets out this shriek and ~faints and it’s up to Gavin and Fiona to Super Sleuth who the culprit is?

ALSO.

This totally takes place on a cruise ship because of course it does and is basically Clue but on a big, big boat. (I know, I know, ship, but whatever.)

Gavin and Fiona are joined by Mystery Blonde Man (whoever could it be, I wonder???) as they Super Sleuth their way along.

Occasionally there’s a Murder (defs mysterious circumstances) and More Tension!!!1!

Paranoia as party-goers suspect the person next to them of being the murdered and petty disagreements and such coming to light (Also confessions of adultery and bribery and just waaaaay too much Drama for anyone’s comfort? AND YET.)

Gavin and Fiona are like jfc because this is NOT what they signed up for when they came up with this farce of a con way back when?

Because of course there are the moments in which Gavin is Investigating - alone, because seperated in the dark - and gets attacked and knocked unconscious and Mystery Blonde Man is the one to discover him, because of course he does.

(And of course there’s that moment of Staring Into One Antoher’s Eyes and Unguarded Thoughts and Fiona standing right the fuck there, you assholes, Christ.)

ANYWAY.

Shenanigans (and light murder) until Gavin figures it out.

Realizes Mystery Blonde Man was behind it the whole time along with his associates. The bald bastard posing as a waiter, and the crewman with the Jersey accent and the Flashback Of Realization as Mystery Blonde Man pulls a gun on Gavin and Fiona and does the rueful apology thing because he really did like Gavin, you know?

Meanwhile Gavin is holding Fiona back from going for the asshole’s throat, or really, his ankles because she’s goddamned vindictive like that, and trying to make it look like he’s not? (Because Assistant!Fiona is sweet like angel and would never, you know?)

Maybe one of the security guards runs up to stop Mystery Blonde Man from absconding with the Shiny and about to shoot him?

And Gavin, like the idiot he is, jumps in the way to take the bullet for him.

(Because kevlar vest under his tuxedo and all the way Fiona’s wearing one under her ensemble - gorgeous dress or incredible tux of her own, idk both work great for me.)

Mystery Blond Man is like :O!!11! because he doesn’t know about the kevlar vest thing and Gavin’s not moving (because he still got shot and that hurts like a mofo and also Drama and Angst) but it’s too dangerous to stick around so he escapes along with his associates not realizing Gavin’s going to be fine?

AND THEN.

Gavin and Fiona are still in the LSPD’s good books, not to mention the city at large and don’t know what to do about it just yet?

BUT.

Gavin’s Intrigued about Mystery Blonde Man and his associates and does his hackery mcgic while Fiona goes out to gather what intel she can from their contacts.

AND THEN.

Gavin goes out to some bar somewhere one night, dressed like the horrible little hacker gremlin he is in regular street clothes and sits down at this table in a darkened corner?

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks, because someone’s been sitting at the same table for a bit now.

Big, scary looking bastard in a leather jacket and ridiculous skull mask. (This close, Gavin can make out what looks like face paint under it??? Something like that anyway.)

Ryan, because of course it’s Ryan, freezes.

About to take a drink of his diet soda and sets it down slowly because reports about what happened on the cruise ship were way confused/conflicting and he thought Gavin died, you know?

Was out of town on a job for Geoff and the crew when the corrections were made and no one thought/knew to tell him because he’s kind of dumb about that shit and just bottled everything up, insisted on working through it. (Also, he barely knew Gavin and they were on opposite sides anyway and just. A whole slew of excuses.)

Gavin of course, doesn’t know any of that, just blithely goes on and on about the weather and the shitty band playing on stages. Kids looking to make it big and desperate for it and not really good but not terrible either, just. You know how it is.

And then he switches tracks, brings up the Shiny and the cruise ship and this whole Super Sleuth deal he put together afterwards.

Hackery magic and Fiona’s intel and the two of them with a murder board figuring everything out?

“Should ahve expected the Fake AH Crew wouldn’t be able to pass it by,” he says, referring to the Shiny, while Ryan’s just !!! because what is going on right now?

Worried he might have to kill Gavin now since he knows who Ryan is and all that? (Lol, try to, or at least look like he’s trying to, because FEELS)

And then Gavin gets onto the bit where he reveals the thing where he and Fiona are totally criminals in their own right.

Big deal, that, because it could blow up in his and Fiona’s faces so badly? But Fiona was tired of him moping around because of Mystery Blonde Man/Vagabond/Ryan and was like.

“Fucking tell him, what the hell do I care?”

So Gavin seeking Ryan out and this whole Thing and Ryan being so, so confused?

Like.

Why is Gavin telling him all this? (Why did he bother to track him down and such?)

And Gavin’s just like.

Looking at Ryan’s drink where the ice is all melted with the whole exposition dump that happened taking a bit and all.

“I’d like to buy you a drink, if you don’t object?”

At which point Ryan realizes Gavin has gone super nervous and awkward and it takes him another moment or two to realize why?

Because FEELS and weird date experience? But also criminals and weird everything anyway, and he’s just.

This little smile (because awkward nerdface) and says that would be nice, but maybe not here? If Gavin’s hungry he knows a decent place not too far away and they can get something to eat, and anyway, anyway, awkward dorks and their first date???

Which of course turns into more, with Fiona giving Gavin so much shit for his smushy feelings for Ryan???

The two of them keeping their Super Sleuth and Assistant con going and stealing Shinies here and there.

And then!

Some shenanigans in which members of the crew get caught, arrested, and taken to whatever precinct Gavin and Fiona are in good with?

Gavin and Fiona being like oh, shit when they see the Vagabond and whoever paraded past them headed to the holding cells?

Realizing nothing good can come of this because of course not, and then overhear some cops talking about planning an accident to make sure the Vagabond and whoever else is in there don’t make it to the morning?

So of course they have to break them out, almost certainly burning their Super Sleuth con in the progress, but that’s not important because FEELS? Also right thing to do, so!

They finagle their way to get access to Ryan and whoever and run into this FIB agent.

Stern woman who is all HMM when she meets them and gives them ALL the shit because of course she does.

Total asshole and Gavin is like :) and trying not to snap - Fiona is weirdly quiet about it, but whatever.

The FIB agent trying get Ryan and whoever transferred to FIB custody, but pissing contest with the LSPD and Gavin and Fiona planning a jailbreak?

FIB agent and her partner/team marching the Vagabond and whoever out through the parking garage and Gavin and Fiona about to break out the jailbreak plan, only for FIB agent to be like,

“You owe me, assholes, so fucking much,” as she unlocks the cuffs on Ryan and whoever because of coruse it’s Lindsay, you know?

Either running her own long play of being an FIB agent or just this one-time production, who knows, and Gavin and Fiona are like???

Because they kind of stumble into it, all ready with guns out and the like and Lindsay is like, “Took you guys long enough,” :DDDDDDDDDDD when she sees them, and idk, I’m losing the thread here yet again.

All of them having ot escape when the cops come down to try one more round of being assholes about things? But uh, wow, ALL the criminals and just a lot of yelling and shooting and Daring Escapes.

Gavin and Fiona being like shit because they just burned the Super Sleuth con for basically nothing? (Don’t regret the intent behind it? But wow, what a waste?)

Lindsay’s just :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD because the crew could use people like them, and what do they say to a trial run with these assholes of hers?

(Ryan is trying not to be all hearteyes over the realization of what Gavin and Fiona did for him and whoever, and failing miserably because Ryan.)

Gavin and Fiona agree to the trial run, and it’s kind of great because ALL the assholes like them and fun criminal activities?

Also, bonus for Gavin in which he makes Ryan’s life the absolute worst? (But in a loving manner, and vice versa.)

Fiona is totes hearteyes over Lindsay because why wouldn’t she be?

Michael is off to the side like , jfc, because that asshole Gavin, but also that asshole Fiona and goddammit, what is with this city?

Geoff is like oh, God, now there are more of you assholes???

And then shenanigans, I guess, idk anymore.

#ragehappy #freewood #ridiculous super sleuth con au #idk either #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #long post

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fandomele · 4 years

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Same anon here & holy shit I didn't know the SC fandom got that awful. As a rule I tend to stay in my lane and read fanfics about my fav ships so I don't go to Twitter often for content. Fans can be very hypocritical & I think it's b/c people feel the need to justify liking things so much now that they bend over backwards to seem in the right. The Joker is one of my all time fav villains but I'm not gonna pretend he isn't terrible just so people won't judge me for liking a fictional character

yeah, I mean... I have shipped things that weren’t exactly completely healthy for the characters or super progressive or whatever simply because I liked them (while being like “it’s fine if you don’t like it, but I interpret it this way and I can see how it could become healthy if this and that happened, and with therapy, and I like their general interactions so I can also imagine aus where the bad things didn’t happen”). It’s a matter of tastes. And sometimes I do interpret a character in a very nice way and other people hate the same character, that’s fine too, and we can argue whether that character is good or bad or what. Sometimes I will ship the white, straight couple even when given different options if I like their dynamic, I shipped Willow and Oz from Buffy more than I shipped Willow and Tara. Both canon romances but because Willow and Tara were both sweet together, until it got darker, it was more boring to me than Oz, who was so funny. Simple as that. Legends of Tomorrow? Sara and Ava kinda disliked each other, then flirted and bantered and I was sold. It’s all about personality, I won’t automatically ship something based on gender. But I also won’t claim that I ship Sara and Ava because of wlw representation and shipping something else is homophobic, or that my ships are morally superior and all that. (Though I do feel happy even just when couples that involve minorities exist, because people need that, and give ‘points’ to show who have them. The two things can co-exist)It’s just way different from saying ‘I ship this because -representation- and it’s perfect and healthy and must happen, and if you don’t ship it you are racist/homophobic/misogynistic and evil, and this show is queerbaiting us because... one character cares for the other and the actresses sometimes glance at each other’s lips much like the rest of the population does while talking’. Not to mention how much some of those fans confuse characters with actors and straight up torment real people over their jobs until they get blocked, and then use it as proof that they are bad people. How you behave with other real people really determines if you are a decent person or not, it’s not which character you like that does it. Or even why.

But then, most of these fans were in the Emma x Regina fandom in once upon a time. They are fans who, beside bullying everybody else while claiming to be the victim, did things such as accusing Jennifer Morrison of supporting rape culture because Jen was happy that fans of her canon ship, Emma x Hook, had made a tea dedicated to it. That level of detachment from reality and entitlement. And they kept getting angrier, getting more people into their group while feeding them their teachings and expecting them to be as angry, and inviting them to be, and attracting other people who felt that way and who made it even worse, and then they all moved to a new fandom, supergirl, where they picked a kinda similar couple, Kara and Lena, and from the beginning were as obsessed and demanding as they were by the end of once upon a time, and from there it kept escalating too, exactly because that’s how group dynamic works. They have reached incredibly unacceptable levels and some day, when supergirl is over, they’ll migrate to a new show where they will start attacking everyone and invading all tags to ‘conquer’ the fandom and fight all those ‘bad shippers’ who ship other ships and must be ‘taught’ that they are immoral for it, and escalate from there as well. It’s a cycle, it just happens that it always gets more extreme as time goes by and more people join in. And the poor normal fans of the same thing are either forced to adapt, to hide, or to stay very far away so they won’t be confused with them.

And yes, some fans did brag, years ago, about how they were teaching karamel fans a lesson because we were mysoginistic, supporting rape culture, racist and homophobic and abuse apologists for shipping Kara and Mon El, and by posting anti-karamel in all tags and pro-supercorp as well, they were effectively ruining the chance for fans to 1 enjoy the show 2 enjoy their tumblr time 3 find other fans who liked the same things and 4, in the case of young impressionable fans, they made them wonder if they were doing something bad by shipping Kara and Mon El and be ashamed of themselves.So in the end Karamel fans became quieter, didn’t post in the karamel tag because you wouldn’t scroll down to find posts there if you had to scroll down hundreds of anti ones, you’d just get in a bad mood, and only talked to their close friends and mutual followers without tagging, while those supercorpers had ‘won’ the tags.

This is just an example too but I have no doubt that they’ll pull the same ‘technique’ in the next fandom, unless it’s big like the ouat one was in which case they’ll get shut down by several groups of people. But if it’s smaller like Supergirl’s? Yeah, they’ll purposefully ruin the tag system and claim to be doing that because of social justice related reasons and then that they are in fact victims and bullied themselves. And at the same time exaggerate their fave characters’ qualities to make them good and pure and a victim so that they can prove they have the moral high ground on that too.

#anti supercorp #anti swan queen #Anonymous #ele answers

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

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The CC fandom is basically just one giant neverending fan tantrum about not getting their own way. Collectively, they have written hundreds of thousands of pathetic words pointing out all the ways Darren isn't fulfilling their predictions and Mia being the cause of that, but too ensconced in their lies to stop and realize the very fact they have to keep churning out these word vomit posts revising reality means they are chronically wrong about EVERYTHING. That's the only 'sham mockery' here.

YES YES YES YES YES!

Darren continues to disappoint Abby and everyone else has no idea who to think so they just word vomit whatever it is Abby is pissed about. Today is a perfect example -Abby is seething in a rage because Darren dared to look HOT AF in a disheveled look but Abs loves Blarren and she COULD. NOT. SEE. Blarren last night...anywhere. She’s consoling herself by pointing out he isn’t happy in any photo (of course she’s wrong, he’s just giving a neutral face).

It’s a shit show over there as they are also being full misogynists. They are blaming Ashley for Darren’s look which Abby hates (hence they all do) and even criticizing Mia because she looks great (“best ever” according to Abby) but since Darren looks frumpy, Mia missed the memo and so it’s her fault. For anyone not aware of how stylists work- they pull together outfits for the celebrity to try on but in the end, it is the celebrity who chooses the final look. If you hate Darren’s outfit, you have to blame Darren.

They are soothing their anger by reassuring themselves that Darren’s “contract” with Balmain is about to end (according to them he first wore Balmain a year ago???) Newsflash- there is no contract- Darren was never announced as a brand ambassador or part of an advertising campaign. He just likes Balmain and Olivier likes him. The Balmain jackets will be around for a long time and I love them so fuck off Abby.

Nothing is funnier to me than reading a fashion takedown by Abby seeing as how she’s sooooo fashion-forward. Darren should fire Ashley and hire Abby.

BTW-notice her use the wrong initials- she’s been doing that lately.

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“She has had 10 years to get to know what D looks good in, there is no excuse for that outfit last night. Even if I put aside that i think it is ugly, outdated, and the t-shirt is lazy, it is all wrong for a guy of average height who has a tiny frame”

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Anonymous asked: I like that we are criticizing D's outfit ,( like it deserves) and someone is even doing it in an harsh way this should show to all those ready to call us mysoginists or antifeminists that they say bs, bc we criticize the outfits EVEN FOR D, when he does it wrong, like this time

Fact, D is an actor. Fact, M is a beard. Fact, both get paid to be on the RC (Neither one is paid to be on the red carpet are fucking kidding me?!?! Who do you imagine is paying them and more importantly, how do you manage they recoup those expenses and make money on a red carept? Red Carpets are for fans to feel connected to the show and therefore to watch the show. Imagine an Oscars night that was only the dry show. Fewer people would be interested hence fewer ad dollars. It’s the spectacle of the event that gets people watching. Mia is photographed mostly for Darren and Mia. The gaggle of photos takes a pic and we end up seeing 2 or 3. They do get picked up by celeb gossip mags occasionally, but most of the time they pic the photos of Darren alone) . Fact, celebrities and others that willingly chose to be on the RC, as part of their job, open themselves up to criticism and that is true of men, women, and those who are gender fluid. Part of the job description. If you don’t want us to talk, well then, there are other jobs out there.(It doesn’t give you the right to be a looney bitch)

D looked awful and I have called them out before (and they haven’t listened to you? I’m dumbfounded), but to me last night was the low point. There may have been worse outfits, but it is ill fighting and he looks un-kept (awww, you couldn’t find Blarren anywhere). And it makes no sense with the projects he is promoting.(He literally is not promoting any projects yet. It’s too early. You don’t understand promotion at all for all the shit you claim to know. When you see him making the talk show rounds that is when he is promoting. Until then he is just living his life. Just becuase you, a super fan knows what is coming up doesn’t mean he is “promoting” anything. He went to the party becuase he goes every year. )

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Once again, they don’t match, sure they both had on black, but no one told her that for this occasion, looking like a hot mess on the RC was the way to match D. Poor Swiller, she just can’t get it right. 99% of the time, she is the hot mess but this time, she kind of got it right and his was so wrong in so many ways.

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Not sure i agree with your logic and it is not that he is not smiling, he looks down right miserable. But I don’t blame him btwn the beard on his arm and that horrific excuse of an outfit, I would guess it was not his best night out.

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The good news nonnie, I hope, D first wore B/ailman at the VF party on Feb 24, 2019. Soon after he was whisked off to Qatar for the fashion show, wore it to the Met, went to Paris for the fashion concert, wore them at iHeart, and now last night. Like a bookend to a year contract. At least i hope, because that was absolutely hideous. It was so ill fitting, it was awful on his body, it was not flattering, the jacket is just ugly. And while I know he did shower, he looks like he threw on clothes after a raging party and the sunglasses are to hide his bloodshot eyes. This is not the look of a man with serious projects to sell.

I am utterly disappointed in AF (what did Ashley Fink do to you?), to the point that I think she should be fired (this is fucking HILARIOUS as Darren is on the best-dressed list most of the time-so are her other clients Chadwick and Finn. Firing her because one frumpy, bitchy fan doesn’t like an outfit seems a tad shortsighted). This is utterly inexcusable at a crucial time in his career at an incredibly important event (It was a party- it’s a fun event that everyone goes to but it’s literally a party where people drink and have fun) I understand he maybe has to wear the designer (he doesn’t) but she needs to work with the designer to create a flattering look for her client whose star is rising and who has important, big projects to promote (Big HUGE A-list celebs were fashion fails all of the time. It doesn’t ruin their careers, calm the fuck down) He is not a rock star that hangs out with groupies all night before snorting coke to go to the next event (He is Darren and part of Darren is the rockstar look. Stop trying to make him someone he isn’t). He is on the verge of the A list (no he isn’t) with a classic, serious dramatic play in 6 weeks (Nobody cares except the 2000 people who will see the show) with 2 well renowned, A list, award winning, serous stars (She’s an idiot) and a series where he is selling classic HW, defined by gorgeous, well groomed, stunning male stars (Oh, honey, your wank bank is full over this isn’t? I get why you are so sure Raymond is gay. You need them all to be gorgeous, well-groomed queer men). And is how they choose to represent him? As a man that could not be bothered to shave who looks like a wanna be rock star (Since he wore that look to his wedding I have to believe that both Darren and Mia love that look on him)? Nope.(YEP)

#CC #ccer #crisscolfer #Darren criss #cc wank #debunking cc nonsense #Vanity Fair Oscar party

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itsediadmlove · 5 years

Text

Reconciliating Westerosi fandom

Alright folk, first of all I am writing this post for 2 reasons: first of all because I’ve come to like this kind of shit (I thought it to be a nuisance 1 year ago), secondly because I’ve had enough of Reading 3 kind of posts this week; post saying the episode was shitty, posts saying Daenerys is a bitch, posts saying Sansa is a slut. I’ve had enough of people being biased or judging the episode from a ship perspective. Dame of Thrones and D&D don’t give a fucking damn about wich ship we stand or our expectations, we are going to watch the whole season anyway. And them giving us the chance to come here every day every week since the beginnig of the season, being unsure about the outcome, speaking to each other, arguing with each other because we expect different things how everything should end is amazing enough. And being wrong about where the story is leading doesn’t make the deliverance any less majestic.

Episode 4 was amazing, shit is hitting the fan and the fans and we are back to what game of thrones should be: ‘bout the game of thrones. This season is being far superior to season 7, which in comparison felt plain and predictable (even Starkbowl being a fake was predictable). I have previously wrote a post about this episode in particular and I am going to take my time explaining why both Sansa and Daenerys were awsome this episode. Maybe I’ll repeat myself at some points, but I want the people to stop shitting about what other people believe to be right and take some serious insight on what those characters are doing.

The last thing I want you to keep in mind before I get started is that I’m pretty aware that I am not a native speaker, and my english can be messy. So if anyone feels like wanting some kind of deeper explanation about what I mean at some point, I invite them to talk with me whenever they want, no matter the ship they stand or whatever; this is not about ships this is about characters understanding so we can enjoy the show without biased or shitty mindsets. I am also aware that I am not a great writter and I believe there is people around far better at exposing themselves.

- Daenerys: Amazing episode, the Dragon Queen is finally playing the game herself. Personally I reconciled with her this very episode. I doubted she was able to play the game, this very episode prove me wrong. First we got the Gendry legitimation; clever, as Tyrion pointed out it provided her a loyal (at least theorically) lord of Storm’s End, but it also allowed her to send a message to Sansa Stark about her claim to Winterfell which she could at least jeopardize just by doing something as simple as that. The chamber’s stuff was another amazing display. It allows us to see her concern about Jon’s claim to the Iron Throne. Being fair to her she was right about almost everything. Jon not wanting the throne doesn’t matter at all; even if he never pushed his claim, it will always be an excuse for every single lord around to contest her right to rule over them forcing her to take action making her a tyrant. She was right on the crypts as well (ep2); Jon’s right to the IT will always be shitty, his only prooves are his brother visions and a book anyone could have written, but it doesn’t even matter if it is true. Remember Stannis people, he was right all along about being Robert’s heir, and yet no one gave a damn just because they never wanted him as King. Now we got to the controversial part, her badmouthing Sansa. Yes It is true, but well, there is a throne at stake. For me at this point Daenerys has been thinking about the parentage reveal consequences and being true, the only way to prevent all the shit to come through is having Jon murdered, because even as looking for a way out, once she doesn’t need him anymore and Cersei is done for, she would have to spend all her life out of fear that someone learned the truth. I really believe she loves Jon. During the war council she was in a rush to leave, and I believe that she is actually trying to prevent Jon to tell his family and not because she gives a fuck about her people, after all, she is the very same person that in the books had a huge amount of ill people under her protection in Meereen just because they needed it. In all she is trying to manipulate him while lying herself. Before people start splitting on her (or me) because of it, if at some point you have been invested in Pol!Jon theory it seems unfair towards Daenerys to blame her to do exactly the same thing to him. Because what she is really trying here is to keep him safe. As I said before, at this point she should have already contemplated the possibility of murdering him, but she doesn’t want this to happen. Yet, we have to admit that she has already invested to much in Westeros, she has already sacrified to many things and people in her quest, to just back off. She has a responsability to all that people who have died in order for her to get there, and if she risked just because of a hot guy, it would feel to me as a betrayal to all those people, Friends and lovers she has sacrified, she wouldn’t deserve to be a queen while killing Jon would turn her into an usurper. Maybe I don’t like her as a Queen, yet I admire the character, it would be shitty for her to turn mad just because she wants power. If I should describe Daenerys in just one Word it would be passionate; in her way to fight, to rule, to believe on herself and, finally, to love. I don’t know how it is all gonna end, but, if she had to turn Mad, I would feel very displeased if she turns so just because she is ‘’POWER HUNGRY’’, it should be because of love. At some point Daenerys has to stop lying to herself and accept she can’t protect Jon, each death she suffers should push her to the edge, not because she is too sensitive, that woman has crossed the world fighting her way out doing great and terrible things, she isn’t weak, but because she has a duty to all those who believed in her, and for a queen, let a man just take it all away, even the very risk of it happening, should be out of question. And the more she lose, the more she feels endebted to her people and the more she understands, that at the end, she will be forced to kill the man she loves, admires, trusts and considers worthy of being a King. It should be heartbreaking, unfair, saddening and Shakespearian.

- Sansa: As always since the sixth season, her character was brilliant this episode. It is true that this episode was far more focused on Daenerys and yet Sansa always get the chance to be outstanding. I loved the political dance between her and Dany this episode. I will go straight to the point; the battlement scene with Tyrion. Sansa isn’t happy there, so much is evident. For some episode now she had been shown around people that were essential in her past (Theon, Tyrion, Sandor). All of them are people that tried to protect her one way or another, the problema is that all of them are related to some piece of her past she doesn’t want to remember. The only reason why Dany made reference to her in her convo with Jon is because she has realised how important he is for her. Everyone can believe if there is any romantic feeling or not, I’m not here to talk about what you all should believe, bute ven if it is just platonical sibling love, Jon is the only male character related to all of her good memories; from her childhood in Winterfell to the present, while being innocent or unrelated about all the bad ones. This means he is very important to her, important in an extent that is even hard to understand. It is true that he asked something from her and she betrayed such trust; and so? You all antis go around speaking about how she betrayed him without giving a thought about why she did so. Right now, denying Sansa being one of the smartest characters around is just plain and simple denial and her scene with Tyrion was key this episode. There are two emotions in her in such scene: anger (for Jon to leave south) and fear. Anger was pretty easy to get, Tyrion realised, she was unhappy, now, fear shows u when Tyrion ponted out Jon not being a Stark, because this is the very reason that makes him going south dangerous. Sansa is brilliant and she has been thinking ‘bout the parentage reveal as well. And her conclusion is just the same as Daenerys: Jon is going to die because Dany needs him to die. Why she broke the promess: as I see it she has gotten the picture, Dany can’t kill Jon yet, as long as Cersei remains in the throne she needs him to keep the North and the Vale, so if she is going to do something about it, it needs to be now, so she plaid her move, not because she is power hungry, but because she wants to protect him just as much as Daenerys.

It would be nice for us to be able to stan a character without disrespecting others, or at leasst other fans. The last thing that I want to tell all of you is that I had enough of people throwing the mysoginist bullshit over other people. I really believe GOT is full of amazing females characters to putt he blame on that. Sure, the world of ASOIAF is unfair with women, welcome to middle age fuckers. If it wasn’t like this we couldn’t relate to such a period. Yet a pretty lot of people needs to defend their faves by pushing the mysoginist bullshit over others, it is pittysome and annowing, the very fact that such a large extent of our faves are females you speak against D&D being such a thing; females characters are amazingly complex here. The very same persons needing to pull such a vague and wrong reasoning over others are the very same people that go saying this or another female character is ‘’POWER HUNGRY’’. I will tell you a secret both Daenerys and Sansa are ambitious (fuck what a revelation) and I find it disgusting that is have to be a guy like me who has to tell you that women being ambitious (doesn’t matter it being Sansa or Dany) is perfectly right thing and they don’t have to love each other just for both of them being women.

#got #Sansa Stark #daenerys targaryen #jonsa #jone #jonerys

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thirstyfortom · 7 years

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Would you mind writing about the RFA(V , S) with a foreign MC whose parents are racist and don't allow her to be with them because they are Asian? But she dates them anyways because she loves them? (My grammar is $h*t I know)

This is so interesting. But it’s so touchy, I’m so afraid this can backfire and I’ll end up offending someone. Please let me know if this isn’t good, I’ll shut it down immediately (of course this is directed to my asian followers, couldn’t care less about white people’s feelings, including my own). Thank you all!

RFA + Saeran and V dealling with MC’s racist family

TRIGGER WARNING: Racism (obviously), misoginy, xenophobia (so sorry I forgot about this before, ugh... hope I didn’t do too much damage. I apologize if someone felt triggered expecting to get something else from this.

Zen

Youintroduced him to your father through Skype and he is…confused.

So…he’s an albino? And an oriental? How does that work?

Oh,and he’s an actor? Like Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee? Did he ever play a karatefighter in some movie? Oh god…

“I’m pretty sure Jackie Chan is from HongKong, sir. And Bruce Lee was… Chinese, babe?” “I think he was born in America,and had a Chinese descendance…”

“And karate is a Japanese martial art, sir.They’re not all… oriental…” he says the word in disgust, ughhh… hearing thisword in 21st century is awful!

“Oh,it’s all sort of the same thing, isn’t it?” Ohhhh… you’re so embarrassed, youwant to turn it off immediately and scold your father for being… racist.

“No,it’s not, sir. Please don’t use a word that put hundreds of people fromdifferent cultures and countries in one tiny box. Please, get more sensitiveabout these issues now that your daughter is dating a KOREAN guy who will marryher someday. Have a nice day, sir.” And he turns it off.

“Oh,babe, I can’t believe I talked to your father like this, I’m so so…” “Don’t youdare apologizing for doing the right thing!”

“Well,yeah… but you know… this isn’t his fault. You know, asian actors play a lot ofsimilar roles on American movies and TV series, so…” “Yeah, and this isn’t yourfault either, my father isn’t dumb, he should see through stereotypes, we allshould, you know?”

Youwere right. Zen kept thinking of this after you two went to bed. He couldn’tstop thinking of what he could do to change things.

Andit hit him, the problem isn’t the asian actors, they just roll with the rolesthey can get, the problem is we don’t have enough asian people working onproducing and writing jobs in entertainment, at least outside of asiancountries, of course.

Sonow he’s thinking how he needs to expand his career in order to be a producerin USA or in Europe one day…

Hismanager sleeping beside him will help him through on this.

Yoosung

Yoursister was in town and he was so excited to meet her.

Shewas excited as well, maybe too much throwing words like kawaii and calling himYoosung-kun, you know, Japanese words.

“MC,she knows she’s in Korea and we speak Korean, right?” you’re too busy doing thefacepalm to even answer.

Andshe keeps throwing Japanese terms totally out of context, for that matter. AndYoosung isn’t getting anything, he’s just scared of the way you’re glaring ather.

“Sis,shut up! You’re making a fool of yourself!” “What? I’m just showing support onyou dating a jap guy.” “I’m not ‘jap’, I’m Korean. We… we are in Korea.” Hesays in a very kind way.

“Well,whatever, it’s all the same.” Oh god… oh no…

“No,we´re… we’re not.” He says assertively. Both you and your sister look at him,surprised.

“Jeez,calm down, cutie. I’m just trying to be nice and supportive. I’m super coolwith my sister dating an asian guy and…” “But why do you have to be cool withit? There’s nothing to be cool about it, it’s just… you know what I’m trying tosay? When you keep saying you’re cool and bringing my race and my country oforigin everytime, I’m sorry… but I don’t think you’re cool with this at all.And that’s not…”

“Cool.”You complete for him and he smiles sweetly at you. “And please study a little,Japanese and korean have this historical feud, we don’t like being compared.”Oh wow, looks like he’s been studying too.

Yoursister is so mad, she just stomps out of there telling she’ll never be back tothis hellhole of a country and shit like that. Yoosung doesn’t understand howtwo people coming from the same environment can be so different like you two.

“MC,are you really ok with your sister not really approving us?” “You mean if I’mokay with my sister being a xenophobic racist brat? Not really…”

“Oh…yeah, she was being kinda racist, right?” you nod. “Well, uhm… she seems tomean well, at least. That’s a start on us to teaching her.” “Yoosung, honey…you really don’t have to.” “I know, but I want to. She’s gonna be my family oneday too, right?”

Andthat was the first time he made you blush in the ame way you’re used to makinghim.

Jaehee

Youwarned her about your brother being a little… nonsense. You know the guy whodated a black girl on high school and think he’s such a hero for it? That guy…

Sohe’s super excited to meet your asian girlfriend. Yeah, he emphasized “asian” alot.

“Whoa,you’re tall. I thought you Asians were all tiny and cute…” hum, okay…

“And you are a blackbelt in judo? Whoa, dragonlady, am I right?” wtf, dude?

Andhe keeps throwing totally out of line comments about her body and how she’snothing like he was expecting from an Asian girl, since all the asian girls heknows are completely different.

“Thegirls he saw on porn, that is.” You whisper to her, and she giggles, but deepinside she knows this is so wrong!

Andsince he won’t stop, she’s starting to get really angry. She needs to put astop to this before he does THAT question about asian girls having sidewaysvaginas, because he seems douchy enough to make it.

“Iknow you mean well, but please stop before you say something really racist… andsexist as well.

“Sexist?And… racist? Ah, come on! I’m not racist, I’ve even dated a black girl on highschool and…” See? I told you he was that guy.

“Hum…and I can’t even imagine why she isn’t dating you anymore… if you used her race as a fetish like you’redoing to mine right now, we probably have an answer.” “What are you evensaying, girl? You should feel lucky that MC has a supportive brother whodoesn’t mind her dating another girl, an asian girl.”

“Oh,racist, mysoginistic and homophobic. You’re the triple threat, huh, bro? Iwon’t feel lucky for you doing nothing but your obligation, especially whenyou’re doing it wrong!” “What’s gotten to you, MC? I’m your family, you can’ttalk to me like that!” “You can’t talk to me and to my girlfriend like thiseither, if you’re family, educate yourself before acting like an asshole!”Well,she’s not happy on being the cause of a fight between brother and sister… no,forget that, his racism was the cause of this. And she’s so happy you two areon the same page of this.

Jumin

Hemade sure to pay for bringing your dad to Korea so they could finally meet. Despiteof your protests of this being a bad investment.

Hedidn’t get it at first, but as soon as he met him, he understood.

Becauseyour dad wasn’t even inclined to a handshake. He was a very serious cold man.

Juminis worried if this has anything to do with those three days, did you mentionthe cage or something? Well, he wouldn’t be exactly pleased if someone trappedhis daughter like he did to you…

Hetells you that as an apology when your father goes to his bedroom to unpack,and you feel so bad. “Jumin, honey… you’re not the problem here at all…”

“Whatdo you mean, MC?” “Well, I… have I told you my father used to work in the U.S. forces, right?”

Hehas a solid knowledge in politics, so he knows your father is probably thinkingabout North Korea and the constant fear of the possibility of a war starting atany moment…

But…he’s south Korean, what does this have anything to do with North and USA?“Well, you know how ignorance works, especially when it’s related tonationalism…”

Rightyou are, but still… this is such a touchy subject, that shouldn’t interfere inyour relationship. And… well, if his race is the problem, then your father isbeing racist, it doesn’t matter if politics are involved.

“Plus,if this war happens. USA and South will likely be allies, as it happened before,so no need for you to dislike me, sir.” Well, you don’t like the idea behindhis point, but… he’s sort of right? “We are not all the same, sir. Pleaseunderstand this and respect your daughter’s wishes of staying with me. I’m surein the end you’re just thinking what’s best for her, and believe me, I’m doingthe best I can in order to fulfill this position.”

Yourfather looks at him head to toes. “You’re smart and reasonable, I like thatyou’re different from the gooks I met in Vietnam.” And he offers his hand forthat handshake, which… Jumin doesn’t take it,

Theman is still racist and xenophobic after all. And you know this isn’t evenclose to an end…

Saeyoung

He’sreally excited to meet your sister

Thenyou introduce them two and they’re both nice to each other and all.

Atleast that’s what he thought before overhearing you talking in the guest room.

“He’sadorable, MC, and he doesn’t look that asian.” Hum… what is that supposed tomean?

“Whatdo you even mean?” “I mean, he’s… redhead, and has this cool outfit, where’sthe nerd kid with slicky hair that’s really good at math or something?”

“Heis really good at math, but you’re just repeating stereotypes, come on!” “Well,there’s a lot of truth in stereotypes, y’ know?” “There’s also a lot ofprejudice.” Slaaay MC, slaaaay.

“Ugh,MC, ever since when did you become so prudish? Jeez, people are so touchy thesedays…” even though he knows heshouldn’t, he speaks up: “I know, right? People can’t even be racistanymore without being called out, that’s awful!”

“I…I’m not racist! I am super happy for my sister dating a guy regardless of hisrace and…” “Regardless? Oh my God!” you and Saeyoung say at the same time.

“No,honey. Of course you’re not a racist, you’re just saying that your sister issome kind of angel for being able to see a normal person behind these slanteyes of mine, and she not minding my race is a favor she’s doing…”

“MC,are you really letting him talk to me like this?” “I guess I will, since I’m noangel. And you brought this on yourself.”

Ofcourse he didn’t want to be mean to your sister, but he totally went for itwhen you told him he could.

Buton a more serious note, he wants your sister to be educated at some point, it’snot good living in ignorance, and he wouldn’t that for someone so close to you,neither would you.

Soyou two will try to be patient and show there’s much more than that portrayalof the nerd asian boy.

Saeran

Hewouldn’t say it loud, but he is excited about meeting your mother.

Butyou keep changing the subject and backing away on this.

Andhe doesn’t know what to think, why wouldn’t him to meet the woman who raisedyou? Oh… wait, he knows what this is about…

You’reembarrassed about him, ain’t you? Because he’s a freak and would definitelyscrew things up, of course!

Heconfronts you, and you feel so bad, especially because now you have to tell thetruth: “I’m not embarrassed of you, I’m embarrassed of her…” the fuck?

“W-why?”“Well, she can be a little… odd.” Odd? How?

Doesn’tcare, he wants to meet her, I mean, haven’t you heard about his mother? Whatcould be worse than that?

Andthough maybe it’s not worse, is still pretty bad. “I’m not a racist, but Ithink pure genes are really important on a child’s brain development, so Iwould rather seeing my daughter with a white young man.” Oh my god…

He…doesn’t really know what to say, he kinda expected your mother would hate him,but because he is weird, not because of something he was born like and hasnothing to do with his personality.

“Mom,that’s so… racist.” Hmmm, yeah, that’s the word he was looking for. “No,sweetie, I’m just thinking what’s best for you.”

“Soare you saying you think your daughter would be happier with, say, a white guywho beats her up than with someone who likes her and respects her just becausehe’s not white? That makes no sense”.

“No,of course not… I… I just…” “Mom, trust me, just end this conversation herewhile you didn’t mess up completely.”

He’sso happy to know you have his back, and this is not only about his race.

He’sthrilled and slightly nervous about meeting your brother.

You’renervous too, but for very different reasons.

Youknow those people who don’t consider themselves right-winged or left-winged,his political stand is moving forward? Thatguy…

AndV was having very interesting conversations with the guy when he says this: “Mysister is just like me, we don’t see race, we just see people.”

“Well,that’s nice, but it’s very easy for a white person to say that, you know? Sincerace doesn’t really play a role on their accomplishments and, most important,obstacles.”

“Whatdo you mean? That white people don’t put effort enough to get things?” “No, I’mjust saying that you get to face obstacles, but your race is not playing a parton this. I mean… MC is white, but she’sa woman, so she won’t get the same wage as you in the same job, it’s the samething with race, white people earn more for the same job in a lot of cases.”

“Nowyou’re just generalizing, don’t you think you’re doing…” wait for it… “reverse racism?” Oh no…

“I…don’t believe such a thing exists.” “It does, look it up.”

“Iwill, then you look up on racial inequality in labor market, how does thatsound?” “You don’t have to be condescending, you know?”

“I’mnot, I’m just giving you a reality check you’re refusing to face. But I get it,it’s hard giving up on your white privileges.” “There you are being racistagain.”

“Dude,even I know that is not a thing, just stop, you’re embarrassing yourself.” “Yesgive up on your male privileges too and listen to the woman at least for once.”

Yourbrother scoffs “You two are such a postmodern couple.” “And you’re pedantic.”“Not to mention a little racist?” you and V say.

Well,this was a very clever conversation, and your brother seems smart, V can’t waitto educate him in a more proper way.

#mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #mystic messenger v #jihyun kim

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