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parabear-blog · 2 years

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Teasing - A Fred Weasley x Reader fanfic

Set in Order of the Phoenix, roughly canon.

You've been friends with the Weasleys most your life. Secretly you've always had a crush on Fred. How will things heat up in your final year at Hogwarts?

(For *plot* sake, the twins have their long GoF hair. Because I said so.)

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You had been friends with the Weasleys since childhood, spending a few summer holidays at the Burrow and doing your Hogwarts shopping with them in your first year. As you were the same age as the twins, Fred and George, you'd always been closest to them. Not to mention, you loved joining them in their pranks, especially against their brother Percy. One time, you'd helped them infect all of his clothes with bulbadox powder, causing Percy to break out in boils. Mrs. Weasley had been furious about that one, and made the three of you do the de-gnoming.

Now, you were in your seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts. The past five years had been the most eventful the school had seen since Harry Potter had come to school. Just last year he had won the Triwizard Tournament, only for it to be discovered that Voldemort had returned and killed Cedric Diggory. The twins were somewhat close with Harry, but you'd hardly spoken to him.

As you took your seat in an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express you knew things were bound to change soon, with Voldemort's return, but you were hopeful for a peaceful final year.

Almost immediately after settling in, there was rap on the compartment door and it slid open without waiting for an answer. Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley piled into your compartment. It wasn't uncommon for Ginny to be attached to the twins, they had always been quite protective over her. It amazed you to see just how much she had grown over the years, she used to be so quiet and now she could be just as mischievous as the twins at times.

Fred threw himself on the seat beside you, while George and Ginny sat down across from you after securing their bags. "Fancy meeting you here, long time no see!" Fred cried as he started to put an arm over your shoulder.

You pushed his arm away with playful annoyance. "It's only been a few months, idiot." Granted, it was true, you hadn't seen any of them since the last term had ended. You missed going to the Burrow in the summer.

He let out a hearty laugh and again tried to put his arm around your shoulder. It wasn't as if this kind of behavior was odd between the two of you, you'd always been attracted to Fred, but he was supposedly dating Angelina Johnson now so you weren't sure how to feel. Besides, he'd never seemed to reciprocate your feelings before. You'd even talked to Ginny about it once, not that it had been a particularly helpful conversation. Ginny didn't seem very interested in knowing anything about any of her brother's dating lives, except maybe Ron, who she constantly criticized about not making a move on Hermione. At least, to you and the twins, never really to his face.

Despite your doubts, you let Fred but his arm on you this time. You even felt yourself leaning into him a bit. Again, the two of you had always been close like this, hell you'd even slept in the same bed as kids. That's probably why he thought nothing of it, of you, you thought. You were simply his childhood friend, nothing more.

George was smiling at you weakly across the compartment. You had always kind of suspected that he knew how you felt, but neither of you ever brought it up. Fred was in the middle of telling a, definitely, over dramatic story of their latest prank on Ron when something in the walkway caught your attention.

A group was walking past and Angelina was among them. She stopped briefly at the door, making eye contact with both you and Fred, before walking away.

"Um, what was that about?" You asked, the confusion clear in your voice. You'd never really talked to Angelina much but, you'd never had any problems with her.

Fred sighed, leaning forward in his seat. "Just because you go to a dance together, doesn't mean you're dating." He said, staring at the door, frustration building in the tense muscles of his neck. "Someone disagreed."

"Quidditch will be entertaining this year." Joked George before being kicked hard by Fred.

Ginny laughed beside her brother and returned Fred's kick in George's stead. "He's right though, better watch out for a rouge quaffle from Angelina in your first practice, Fred."

Fred dismissed their jokes with a wave of his hand as he leaned back again. "I'm not worried about practice, if there's one thing Angelina won't do, it's risk a quidditch game." He looked over at you, the frustration still clear on his face. "Don't think you can tell your captain about this though!"

"How could I not take advantage of such a possibility?" You laughed, poking him in the exact spot on his side you knew to be extremely ticklish. He jumped at your touch, but not in the usual way. His face had gotten a bit pink and he looked a little panicked. You pulled your hand up to slap his shoulder instead. "Fine, fine, I'll send all my bludgers Angelina's way then."

Fred had never been jumpy like that before. In fact, he'd always been pretty touchy with all of his friends. Just moments ago he'd put his arm around you. What was going on with him, you wondered.

After some time, you and Ginny stepped out to change into your school robes in the restroom. Angelina was standing at the sink and turned as you entered. You had no intention in getting yourself involved in any drama with her, especially since there wasn't anything going on between you a Fred anyway. You walked straight past her to a stall, but she called out your name.

"Yeah?" You answered, not wanting to, but turning back to face her anyway.

"Are you why he broke up with me?" She asked plainly. There was no hate behind her eyes, just annoyance. She didn't like to be played with.

You shook your head, "Fred and I have been friends since we were kids. There's nothing else going on, I assure you." Behind you Ginny have a small choked cough at your words, but said nothing.

"But you like him, don't you?" Angelina asked, to which you were completely taken aback. How did this girl you barely knew see that and Fred didn't? Or did he, and he just chose to ignore it?

"Even if I did," you began waving your hand dismissively, "it wouldn't matter. I may as well be another sister to him."

She gave a small laugh at that, walking up to touch your shoulder. "Well, we'll see about that I guess." And with that, she left the restroom leaving you confused.

"What does that mean?" You asked Ginny, whose only response was a small shrug, though you could see that familiar mischievous glimmer in her eyes. It was the same one Fred got when he came up with a new idea. She knew something, or was planning something.

A short time later the train arrived at the station and the four of you got off together. You made your way towards the self-pulled carriages and took your usual seat next to Fred. Your hand brushed his as you say down and you felt yourself blush softly. "Sorry." You said and put your hands in your lap.

He reached over and patted the top of your clasped hands. "Idiot." He said with his usual joking smile that totally lit up his face. His hair had grown out again over the summer, to where it kissed the nape of his nexk. He swept a bit of it back and turned to watch the castle come into view and the carriage crested the hill.

Everyone piled into the Great Hall once we reached the castle. You sat at your house table, separate from the Weasleys. Every now and then you'd look over to find Fred looking your way, only for him to quickly turn back to his plate once you made eye contact.

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The first few weeks were pretty uneventful, the only class your house shared with Gryffindor was Defense Against the Dark Arts. The new teacher was the worst you'd ever had, Umbridge, the Ministry had sent her to "get things under control". Whatever that meant. It didn't take long for the twins to start plotting ways to make her class "more interesting".

Fred cornered you in the halls one day with a wide grin spreading across his face. You knew exactly what this grin meant: trouble.

"Well," you began, putting your hands on your hips, "what are you up to now?"

"Oh, only some of our greatest work yet." He said with a chuckle.

"You know I'm down to help, especially if it's aimed at Umbridge." With that you tried to squeeze your way around him but he moved to block you. You looked up at him, confused. "Was there something else?"

"Yeah, uh, you're going to Hogsmeade this weekend right?" He asked, to which you simply nodded. "Good, good, well I'll see you there. And, good luck in the Quidditch match tomorrow. I mean, we're gonna win, but good luck anyway."

The next day, you were too busy preparing for your first Quidditch game to pay attention to anything else. Going against Gryffindor first was always a challenge, especially since Harry became their Seeker. He'd caught the snitch in nearly every game since he'd joined.

As you expected, it turned out to be a tense game. Right now your team was up 20 points, but if Harry caught that Snitch you'd lose. You scanned the field and spotted a glimmer of gold at the far end, and Harry was already hot on it's trail. Your own seeker noticed and joined the pursuit. Within seconds you found a bludger and lobbed it in Harry's direction. Fred intercepted, hitting it straight at your team's seeker sending them careening your direction having lost control of their broom. They collided with you.

You felt yourself falling, thankfully you weren't incredibly high up, you thought. Just as you braced yourself for impact with the ground, you felt an arm on your back. Opening your eyes just the tiniest bit, you saw flaming red hair. Fred.

"Are you okay?" He asked frantically, tightening his grip on you.

You could feel your face getting red as realized you were essentially lying on his lap on the broom. Giving a feeble nod to tell him you were okay, you turned to see the rest of teams landing on the ground. Harry had caught the snitch.

"Good play, knocking my seeker off." You said finally. "Now let's go so you can have your victory party."

He laughed softly and leaned down a bit closer to your face so that his red hair gently brushed your face. "You're welcome to join us, you know."

You felt a warmth rush through your body as he finally brought the broom to the ground. His feet touched the ground and he put his hands on your waist to ease you off the broom.

Both teams came to join you and Fred, the Gryffindors gathered around Fred congratulating him. Your own team ensured you were okay before heading to the changing rooms. When you turned to join them Fred grab your hand.

He leaned in close to your ear and whispered, "I was serious, you know. Meet me at the stairs in an hour."

Did he intend to sneak you into the Gryffindor common room?

After showering and changing you made you're way to the moving staircase like Fred had asked. The corridors were mostly abandoned as everyone had turned in for the night after the game. You stood at the bottom landing, watching the paintings as they ran about between frames.

As you watched a young boy run playfully from a small dog between two frames, you suddenly felt a hand on your back. Behind you, Fred stood with a huge smile on his face. "Glad you came, let's head up."

He led up several flights of stairs and eventually stopped at a portrait of a woman. After giving her what must have been a password, the portrait swing open. Immediately you were hit with the ruckus of celebration and the smell of butter beer.

You followed Fred to a seating area where George and Ginny were already sitting. After a while of eating and a few butter beers, Fred disappeared upstairs only to come back down a few minutes later with a large bottle.

"Time for the good shit!" George exclaimed as he saw Fred. He rushed to take the bottle from him and brought it over to you. "Want the first sip?"

You took the bottle and inspected it, alcohol as you suspected. After taking a swig you hand it to Fred who had come to sit down beside you. Ginny tried to take it from him next, but he held it high over her head. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh please," Ginny said sarcastically as she stood up and yanked the bottle from his hand. "As if I haven't had any before."

The twins exchanged angry looks and both turned on her. "When? Where?"

"What does that matter?" She took a drink and passed it back to you.

"It's not like she'll be drinking the whole bottle, guys. Relax. We'll just have to be sure to drink more than our share." With that you took an even larger gulp and handed it to George.

The bottle was passed around a few more times before you started to feel its dizzying effects. Fred's cheeks had become nearly as red as his hair and with each of his turns at the bottle he leaned a little closer to you.

When the bottle was finally empty Ginny grabbed it from George and thrust it into your hand. "Spin it."

"What?" You exclaimed, pushing it back towards her. "I mean, what are we, children? Spin the bottle? Besides, it's just you three siblings and me, that's no fun."

"You're right." She agreed and turned around to the now much less crowded common room to call out, "Get your butts over here, we're playing spin the bottle!"

A few people got up to join our circle: Katie Bell, Ron, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom (a surprise to everyone), Cormac McLaggen, and Angelina Johnson.

"There," Ginny said with a similar up-to-no-good smirk that the twins tended to get before a prank. "Better right?"

Conceding that you wouldn't win this fight you sat the bottle on the floor in the center of the circle everyone had sat in. Ginny decided to go first. It landed on Neville and she gave him a small peck. Then Ron spun it to land on Neville who laughed nervously.

The two tried to argue but Ginny insisted that they had to at least kiss on the cheek. Eventually it ended up on Fred's turn, he spun the bottle. As it began to slow Ginny lunged to the center and turned it to face you.

"That's cheating!" Yelled Lavender.

"Oh shut up." Snapped Ginny, turning to smile evilly at you. "Well come on! You're holding up the game!"

Fred leaned across the circle, supporting himself by putting his wait on his hands in front of him. Feeling slightly emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you put your hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your lips, and smell the alcohol. Neither of you seemed ready to close what little distance remained, savoring the tension. Your eyes never left his lips until he fell forward, pressing them to yours.

For a moment the world fell away and you were the only two in the room. One of his hands came up to brush your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, gently parting your lips with his tongue.

And then all too quickly the world crashed back down as he pulled away. He stared at you with hooded eyes as he pushed himself back into his spot in the circle. You did the same but squirmed in your seat as you kept noticing that Fred hadn't taken his eyes off you.

As the game continued Angelina leaned over to you and whispered, "Like a sister huh?"

Soon everyone had started heading to bed and it was just you, the twins, and Ginny left. You were sure you saw Ginny nudged George in the arm before the two of them quietly made their way up the stairs that must have led to the dorms. And then, it was just you and Fred.

You sat together on the couch, staring into the fire for a short time until he broke the silence. "I uh... I think I'd be interested in a take two, if you would."

Was this really happening, you thought, surly it must be a dream. Maybe he's just too drunk, doesn't know what he's doing. But so were you, and you really wanted to just throw yourself on top of him. Instead, you simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak yet.

This was all the answer Fred seemed to need though. In a second he had closed the distance between you and cupped your face in his hands. With his height, even sitting, he loomed over you, his face again hovering mere inches from yours. He brushed his lips over yours teasingly, leaving you desperate as you reached out to meet them.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he watched your reaction. "You always were easy to tease." His voice had gotten a little raspier with desire. One hand moved to the nape of your neck, the other to your waist. Then finally he pressed his lips yours.

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, not wanting to let him pull away this time. Your lips broke apart briefly for air, but you were quick to pull him back in. You felt him laugh softly against you, amused by your courage.

This time when his tongue broke through your lips it was much hungrier than before. He circles your own tongue before exploring more. When he pulled away you let out a small gasp for air. You only got a second to recover, however before he had turned his sights elsewhere.

He pressed his lips against your neck, first kissing the tender spot just below your ear and then sucking gently at the spot where your neck and shoulder meet. You tossed your head back slightly to allow him more access. A hand glided from your back to the bare skin of your thigh, squeezing it longingly. Inwardly, you thanked yourself for picking the shorts. He continued to kiss along the line of your neck and a collar a finger teased its way under the hem of your shorts.

On equal impulse you slide a hand up the back of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin. He bit gently at your ear lobe as he moved his hand to your waist, running that eager finger along the waist of your shorts. Your hand made it's way to his chest, feeling the tightness of his muscles as caught him another passionate kiss.

Matching your energy his other hand crept its way under your shirt, again just teasing the line of your bra. He was going to torment you the whole night like this if you let him. But part of you seemed to really like that idea.

Not wanting to be outdone, you slid your hand down his chest to rest just above his belt line. With a triumphantly cocky grin on your own face, you undid the button of his pants.

But before you could truly show him up, he'd slipped his whole hand under your bra to cup your breast. Squeezing it eagerly he pulled you into yet another kiss, not pulling away until you were left gasping.

Both of you stared into the others eyes for a time, daring the other to make the move. His ginger hair spilled over your face, and you wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull it. Instead you went for the zipper.

You both seemed to have the same idea, as your fingers closed over the zipper, his slipped slowly down the front of your shorts. He teased your lower abdomen by running his finger from side to side slowly.

Just as he was starting to reach further a bang erupted from the direction of the portrait hole. You pulled apart quickly just before Seamus Finnigan stumbled into the room.

"Sorry about that. Tried to turn the butter beer to beer." His face was covered in soot as he turned to head to the dorms.

After Seamus was out of the room, Fred turned back to you. "I should probably take you back to your common room now." That raspiness still hadn't left his voice, you watched his Adam's apple bob as he spoke.

"I guess so." You agreed, your eyes making their way to his lips.

He noticed your gaze and pulled you in for a small taste. After a minute he stood, offering you his hand. You took it and he led you off to your dormitory, leaving you incredibly frustrated.

What a crazy final year this might turn out to be.

#fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #harry potter #fandom #fanfic #reader fanfiction

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ts1989fanatic · 1 year

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Taylor Swift’s 50 Best Songs, Ranked

By Chris Willman

Taylor Swift

“I’m doing good, I’m on some new shit,” Taylor Swift softly declared at the outset of “Folklore,” and truer sentiments are never constantly spoken than in the case of the woman who somehow manages to the best and most prolific songwriter in pop. Consider that, just since the last time she went on tour, Swift has released six albums, four of which were all-new, two of which dug into her vaults and proved she’s even more of a constant song fount than we knew. New shit is her brand — maybe her compulsion, too — and definitely our pleasure.

So sometimes it takes a special occasion to tear yourself away from the chronic relistenability of a “Midnights” to ask yourself: What do “Speak Now,” “1989,” “Reputation,” et al. have to say to me today? Fortunately, we have such an occasion — Swift’s birthday, as the star turns 33 on Dec. 13. It’s a good, celebratory time to try to pull out a best songs list. Sure, it would have been appropriate and maybe even lucky to come up with a 13-song list, or even 33 songs, in honor of her spot on the mortal odometer. But given her catalog of 225-plus songs, even cutting a best list down to 50 is a tough task, so that ended up being where we drew the line.

If your favorite Swift song is missing from this highly subjective, critical 50-best list, rest assured that it’s probably in our unspoken 51st or 52nd slot. And know that on any given day, the winds might have blown differently and we might even have put “Shake It Off” or “Love Story” on the list. For now, there were just too many brilliant deep cuts to consider to let all the bigger hits hog the top ranks of the canon. And having just named “Midnights” the album of the year, I didn’t think it was too soon to push some cuts from that record onto this “Eras”-spanning list. Are you ready for it? (Boom, boom, boom.)

Tim McGraw

This introductory, career-establishing single certainly counts as a simple pleasure now, against all the more sophisticated writing she’s done since. But its winsomeness still speaks to how we experience music as not just a soundtrack to life events but a spiritual partnership with them. The genius of it was in a concept that hadn’t been tried much before — establishing that a couple might not just have “our song” but “our artist.” And in making Tim McGraw the guy, thank God she chose someone whose name and stature have aged well. We wouldn’t have quite the nostalgic affection that we do for this 2006 single if the teen lovers had bonded over Big & Rich.

You're on Your Own, Kid

In case there was any doubt that it’s unresolved childhood loneliness and rejection that make the greatest breeding ground for uber-driven superstars, Swift clears it all up for us by effectively conceding as much in this childhood origin story for her ambition and independence. It’s somehow more affecting for how matter-of-factly she presents these subdued moments of almost steely self-realization. (Later in the “Midnights” album, she revisited basically the same subject in a passing aside in the closing “Mastermind”; it almost felt like one of those moments in the theater where you get a quick reprise of an earlier key theme.)

Enchanted

Swift takes a backstage introduction to an indie-pop dude she had a crush on and turns it into something that feels like an epic moment at a royal ball. Even if you are a less than A-level romantic, you may still find something enduringly swoony about the way she frames something that feels like classic love at first sight (even if in practicality it’s check-his-socials-later-to-see-if-he’s-claimed at first sight). She probably forgot about the guy the next day, but she got a hell of a testament to the magic of instantaneous infatuation out of it. (And a fragrance.)

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

Swift has been surprisingly unafraid to boldly speak out about political matters in recent years, after being criticized for staying quiet in her early career. (Of course the blowback from going vocal has amounted to many times the crap she ever took for keeping her mouth shut.) She still hasn’t gotten topical too often in song itself, but a major exception came in the form of “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince,” which subsequently lent half its name to a documentary about her political coming-out. This “Lover” track is basically a play on the idea that all adult life is just like high school, but now she’s breaking up not with a boy but with the center-right assumptions that had her growing up assuming that America would always stay on the right track. As tends to be the case with lyrics that exist entirely on a metaphorical plane, this isn’t one of her most emotionally connecting tracks. But to hear America’s one-time princess worry that she and the direction of her country may never, ever get back together is affecting.

Lavender Haze

Listening to “Tim McGraw” or “Teardrops” back in the day, how little would anyone have imagined that Swift someday would be decrying “the 1950s shit they want from me” while extolling the sensual benefits of a relationship that just cozily is what it is. “Lavender Haze” kicks off “Midnights” with a groove that’s almost a little too laid back to quite call R&B… although you could probably say that of a lot of the best subtle R&B. It’s Swift locked into a good groove in every possible regard.

'Tis the Damn Season

This list needs a Christmas song, and you know it’s not going to be “Christmas Must Mean Something More,” at least not without a lot more spiked nog. Lucky for everyone’s personalized holiday mixes that Swift did eventually follow up her early Christmas EP many years later with a sentimental one-off (“Christmas Tree Farm”) but also, more significantly, this fairly unsentimental ode to hometown ex sex during the holidays. Like much of the “Evermore”/”Folklore” cycle, we can take this as an act of imagination (i.e., there is no mention of where the paparazzi are going to go while she and her old classmate briefly reignite some embers just for the hell of it). But all the mixed, pragmatic feelings that come up over the course of the song sure feel lived-in. Ho ho sigh.

Teardrops on My Guitar

This is the one that began it all, not on the country side of things, where she was already well-established before her sophomore album came out, but on the MTV side, where many “pop mixes” were to come before she finally “picked a lane,” as she put it. It sounds almost primitive now, but an honestly felt teardrop on an honest instrument never goes out of style. (Many years later, on “My Tears Ricochet,” she would subtly do a kind of sequel to this ballad, with record company executives understood to be replacing the far more benign Drew as the villains of the piece.)

Mad Woman

It’s easy to see a lot of the darker material on “Folklore” through two lenses — that they’re breakup songs, or they’re breakup-with-Big-Machine songs. Either interpretation of “Mad Woman” works, but if this is one of her personal tunes on the album and not one of the character songs, the unusual intensity with which she writes and sings it sure makes it seem like it’s more about a recent business split than some long-ago bad romance she’s dredging up for song fodder. Of course, this interpretation is furthered by just how openly angry she allowed herself to be in her public messages about what went wrong, to the extent she has to know some observers were asking, “Why can’t she just move on?” However you feel about the situation with the sale of the masters, you have to take note of her refusal to take it any less seriously over time. “Every time you call me crazy, it makes me more crazy,” she warns. A scorpion fighting back “strike(s) to kill, and you know I will.” Geez, we’re a long way from slamming screen doors and first or last kisses here — and it’s riveting.

False God

A song about why a relationship that’s escalated for some of the wrong reasons can’t help but feel right when you throw that slinky a groove on it — and throw in something Swift has never employed from her arsenal before: a solo saxophone. When she pulled this out for an especially sexy-sounding second number on an “SNL” appearance, it made fans wish this was a direction she’d explore more in the future. Listen, she’s got time.

Haunted

Every female singer with a little bit of lung power and a big taste for drama should write their own version of an Evanescence song at least once in their career. This heavily orchestrated Goth-rocker from her third album, “Speak Now,” came at the tail end of the era when she still had a touch of girlish shrillness in her voice. She is 100% — no, maybe 1000% — a better singer now than she was then, but that doesn’t mean we can’t feel a twinge of quaint nostalgia for the less trained, barely post-adolescent, I-mean-it tones pushing this anguished lament over the top.

...Ready for It?

Yes, we are, or were, as a matter of fact. This “Reputation” opener made for a great introductory number on the 2018 tour of the same name, too. It gets knocked, in some quarters, for Swift having sung the verses in a kind of hip-hop cadence. But that does set up the constantly changing dynamics of the tune, which goes from that into a featherweight-sweet and sexy pre-chorus, before Max Martin and Shellback bring the hammer down again with a recurring synth riff that feels like heavy metal. That cathartic rush is worth the wait of the ellipses.

Soon You'll Get Better

When Swift revealed that she’d enlisted the Dixie Chicks for a collaboration, nearly everyone assumed it’d be a fun lark, like the murder ballad she eventually did with Haim. Instead she murdered everyone’s hearts with “Soon You’ll Get Better,” a song about coming to terms with her mother’s cancer that hit upon many of the stages of grieving… not a death, but an illness that ends the carefree life a family once knew, anyway. This was most people’s “skip” track on the “Lover” album — but surely Swift, most of all, would know that’s no knock against it. Even if you’re blessed not to currently have any loved ones with chronic or incurable illnesses, this is one to necessarily be employed in private.

Daylight (Live From Paris)

As the closing track on the 2019 “Lover” album, “Daylight” didn’t make that much of an impression; it seemed like maybe just one in a series of hopeful denouements to otherwise more dramatic collections, in a tradition with “New Year’s Day” and “Clean” but not as memorable. But the song turned out to be slightly the victim of a rare instance of overly busy balladic production that didn’t do the tune many favors. Stripped of that for a mostly acoustic version that appeared on a live album just before the pandemic, her of-the-moment love song became something more touching, like her one-night-only “Lover” show in the City of Lights really did bring it into the sunshine.

The Last Great American Dynasty

Swift really, really likes women who are viewed as insane. Hard to imagine why, after a few solid years of vilification in the previous decade, right? And so, after she bought a Rhode Island mansion in the mid-2010s, she formed an identification with a famous former owner, wealthy socialite Rebekah Harkness, and decided to tell her story of how she became willfully self-ostracized from her community. There’s a theme running there between that tracks like “Mad Woman,” but also with the older Swift song “The Lucky One,” a portrait of a star who threw it all away and went into happy seclusion. This is a terrific piece of character writing, and though it’s hardly diaristic in the manner of so many other Swift songs, it is possibly telling us that what she aspires to become late in life is a “crazy,” rich and powerful old spinster lady trading dirty looks and derogatory laughs across the fence with the townspeople. (Maybe let’s not mention this to Joe.)

Peace

What do you get from the girl who has everything? Everything but placidity, Swift tells her man in one of the more obviously true-to-life songs from 2020’s “Folklore.” In other words, for as long as she and her beloved are together, putting the phrase “You need to calm down” into action may not be possible. It’s less of a red flag than it might otherwise be, given that we understand it to be about an active celebrity couple. But probably lots of other couples where at least one partner is in a high-stress or high-visibility situation have been able to find themselves in this song, too. It’s a sweet, and just slightly foreboding, acknowledgement from one lover to another that there is some sacrifice involved sometimes in being with someone whose lifestyle, circumstances or even just natural personality type is… a lot.

All You Had to Do Was Stay

Another of her “I asked just one thing of you: to not leave” songs. Having forbidden that one command, like Adam of the garden, he of course banished when he realized his mistake, too late. This could have been a much more conventional song, melodically. But Swift had a dream where all she could utter was the word “stay!,” in an unnaturally high voice — and she worked that effect into the chorus instead of keeping the vocal in a natural register. it’s just another example of a Swift move that feels risky when you first hear it within a song and seems perfectly natural, even inevitable by the third listen. As fun a trick as that is, I’m still struck most of all by the ballsiness of the song… that however desperately she wanted the relationship to continue, once a fellow calls it, there are no takebacks. (That happens a lot in the Swift ouevre.) That’s actually some pretty good role-modeling going on, for her still emotionally impressionable younger fans.

I Knew You Were Trouble

We knew they were trouble, good trouble, when they walked in — Max Martin and Shellback that is, who were charged with updating Swift’s sound for just a handful of tracks on her fourth album, “Red.” Nathan Chapman was still the bigger part of the production picture, doing his part in expertly helming sensitive, wounded classics-to-be like “All Too Well” and “Sad Beautiful Tragic.” But the introduction of the Swedish overlords was a sign that we weren’t in Kansas anymore, or anywhere else where country music is going to rule forever. “I Knew You Were Trouble” was the most radical of the steps forward, throwing something like actual dubstep in for an artist who might have safely stuck closer to dobros. It’s slightly dated but still holds up — there’s almost a kind of musical violence to the electronic chorus, something that sounds like it really should be the soundtrack for a woman throwing herself onto the tile over a bad call with a good looker.

Karma

I’m going to out on a limb and boldly posit this as by far the funniest song Swift has ever written — and yes, despite her reputation for earnestness, there is some competition for that. When “Midnights” came out, there were some humorless scolds who laid into this song’s exaggerated statements of self-satisfaction and cosmic comeuppance as if they were to be taken completely seriously… as if “Karma is a cat / Purring in my lap ’cause it loves me / Flexing like a goddamn acrobat” isn’t some of the best comedy that anybody has written in any recent year. But acknowledging the levity of the writing doesn’t mean that Swift probably isn’t also completely serious, in some ways: The song is a victory lap, or maybe a vindication lap, of sorts when it comes to how mutual fortunes have swung around in certain circumstances. And no doubt she does believe that the arc of history bends toward justice for those with a moral center. Still, the awesomely clever co-production touches of Antonoff on this tune establish it as a soft banger. And it make for a great sequel to “I Forgot You Existed,” in which she contends that fate itself did not forget.

Should've Said No

So many of Swift’s best post-breakup songs, especially in the early parts of her songwriting career, are her just reiterating the obvious to her exes, post-mortem. Like: All you had to do was… stay! All you had to say was… no! Dudes: You had one job.

I Did Something Bad

This is a kind of sequel, in spirit, to “Blank Space.” In that one, she was still playing at being the bad girl, for satire. By the time of “Reputation,” she was doing it not so much for laughs — this is an “I could eff you up, seriously” song. No wonder it was such a highlight of her 2018 tour; the song rocks, and could manhandle a stadium with it as well as handled a single man.

Champagne Problems

A dire but weirdly satisfying fantasy of disruption. On the “Lover” album, with “Paper Rings,” Swift had also engaged — so to speak — in an engagement-ring scenario, but there, it was a joyful exploration of what it would feel like to make promises like paupers who couldn’t afford real rings. This song is the opposite in every conceivable way: The protagonist in her song says no to a proposal that was meant to lead to a big public pronouncement her would-be fiance had already promised his well-to-do family. Ruining everything is terrible and great and terrible again, as the singer imagines everyone saying, “She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head.” Once she would have played this for high musical melodrama, if she’d even have ventured to write a song so much not about herself before. Here, it’s all brilliant detail and delicacy on the way to that effed-up-ever-after ending.

The Man

Swift’s most outright feminist statement could read as polemical, and maybe it counts. But agitprop doesn’t get too much more fun, or too much more indisputably true. “When everyone believes ya —

what’s that like?” asks the woman whose word was automatically assumed to be suspect, as opposed to that of a guy who subsequently proved to be the least reliable narrator the entertainment world has ever seen. But we digress. This one is really an I’m-every-woman anthem, not personal memoir, and she serves her gender well with one you-know-it’s-fact zinger after another. There’s hardly any line she’s ever written that has better wordplay than one of the simplest lines she’s ever written: “If I was a man, then I’d be the man.”

The 1

If there’s any track on “Folklore” that’s been a little bit too slept-on, it might be “The 1,” a humble little masterpiece hiding in plain sight right there as the opening track. Why does this not get more love? Maybe it’s because of its very unassuming nature, which is actually makes it great and an essential part of the Swift canon. Lord knows she has given fans dozens of songs in which love is understood as an urgent matter of life and death. Here, it’s like, “Eh — would have been nice to have seen that one through to the end to see how it turned out, but no biggie.” That might be one of the ultimate signs of maturity in her writing, that the woman who made wuthering heights her lyrical brand can also sweetly say “c’est la vie” and make that work for a terrific song, too. Except, maybe the woman doth not protest enough — there’s a touch of melancholy in the unusual chord changes that she or Aaron Dessner built into the track that let you know the wistfulness runs deeper than the acceptance. Meanwhile, I suspect there’s a musical joke embedded in the title, which is written as a numeral, the way a musician would render it, versus “the one.” At the end of the chorus, the word “one” begins on the last note of one bar and slides over to the next, where it lands on… you know it, the 1. It’s like an additional subliminal tip-off that the guy that got away both wasn’t and was the one.

Invisible String

The greatest of all of Swift’s blatantly autobiographical and adoring love songs — admittedly a small subset of her overall work, given her penchant for drama, but there is some strong competition there. Not always one to look for the supernatural in things, Swift does use this exquisitely plucked acoustic track to wonder if there might be some serendipity in the air, tying things together with a divine smile. The lyrics here felt so baldly true to life that you knew even before you Googled it that her significant other of many years will turn out to have toiled in a blue shirt in a yogurt shop, or that one of her celebrity exes did in fact have a newborn infant that would have precipitated a gift from her. So much specificity for one sweet ditty, but again, with a chorus easily adapted by any young lovers who also see their paths as intwined by something spookier than chance.

This Is Me Trying

Swift has never sounded so exhausted as she does on this track… which is part of its novel appeal, and sense of a different kind of honesty, since tiredness is not her natural state. Normally, “depleted-sounding” would not be the highest compliment we could pay a song, but this one is different. It’s the sound of someone standing in a doorway, maybe for the rest of time, asking for one more chance with a last bit of willpower they can’t quite physically manifest. As down-tempo as it is, it’s also kind of an anthem of hope… and, in its anti-assuming fashion, a total, flat-out earworm.

Out of the Woods

How many stitches did he get, Taylor? Twenty, was it? One reason her more autobiographical songs hold such power is her constant inclination to provide small details — eye color, necklace shapes, astrological signs, clothing items street names or, yes, numbers of stitches — while leaving fans to do guesswork, be it educated or fanciful, over just what kind of bigger picture these brushstrokes enhance. With “Out of the Woods,” one of the most talked-about tracks from “1989,” it’s really enough to know what the emotional tenor of the scenario is, and not who she spent a night in the emergency room with. If you can set some of those precise details on the back burner, you can experience it as a song about a relationship that’s come to some sort of reasonable plateau but isn’t really out of the woods yet. The telling way in the choruses that she keeps answering “good!” to every repetition of the “Are we in the clear yet?” question lets you know that this is a protagonist who constantly has to talk herself into believing that everything’s fine. The snowmobile emerged but she’s spending the whole lyric back in the trees.

Illicit Affairs

This reads like one of the many works of fiction that Swift embarked upon with the “Folklore” album. At least, it’s hard to imagine that, even if she wanted to, a superstar is probably able to have the guilt-wracked “clandestine meetings” described in this deep dive into the morality and petty details of adultery. Yet Swift sure must have done some research with friends — or just has that vivid a literary imagination — to come up with absorbing details like “Leave the perfume on the shelf

that you picked out just for him / So you leave no trace behind” and “Tell your friends you’re out for a run / You’ll be flushed when you return.” Like, damn, girl. But this brilliantly written song isn’t just a list of 50 ways to meet your lover. There’s a real sense of panic, desire and self-loathing in verses describing an affair as “a dwindling, mercurial high — a drug that only worked the first few hundred times” and despairing: “You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else.” In just a few minutes, Swift has written a whole movie’s worth of insight about cheating. It certainly ought to give you faith in what she could pull off as an actual screenwriter.

Cowboy Like Me

Swift used to count as a country star in her early days, but never really indulged in what we’d call “country-rock.” She did a little bit, though, in dribs and drabs on the “Folklore” and “Evermore” albums, where the laconic quality of a few of Aaron Dessner’s in particular lent itself to something that felt a little like the laid-back early ’70s style. One of the more obviously fictional narratives she was trying out, “Cowboy Like Me” has her as an unsentimental grifter in some unnamed resort area — I’m picturing Montana — who meets and falls for someone in the same shady line of non-work. It’s good that Taylor doesn’t really believe that “forever is the sweetest con,” and good that she’s stretched out to the kind of writing where she can create a character to say it.

Back to December

After her second album, “Fearless,” Swift had an album of the year Grammy but also a reputation as someone who only wrote vindictive songs about ex-boyfriends. (There are people who still believe this, to this day. You should not have these people as your friends.) So it was the beginning of a correction in the popular mindset when, for her third album, “Speak Now,” she made a point of writing a song for an ex-boyfriend in which she took credit for what went wrong and expressed apologies and regrets — normal human actions, in other words, for someone who was not the narcissistic teen wraith some of the culture had set out to make her. All image adjustment concerns aside… damn, this is still just a lovely song, isn’t it?

Marjorie

If your tear ducts can withstand this bold line of attack from a song about Swift’s late grandmother, you’re made of more stoic stuff than most of the rest of us. (Maybe you’re a good candidate to go join the grifters in that other “Evermore” track, “Cowboy Like Me.”) For me, it was the receipts that finally got me — that is, the part where she’s singing, “I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me.” Any kid who ever took for granted that a cherished elder would always be around has been there, but the specificity of just how tiny a remnant she’d settle for is heart-rending. And it’s hard to imagine anything to melt your already-rended heart more than Swift pulling out the stops to actually include an audio excerpt of her grandmother’s operatic singing for a ghostly coda. This has been your pool (as in, puddle on the floor) reporter.

Cruel Summer

No amazing amount of depth to this one — it’s just pure cotton candy, with a little emotional fiber sprinkled around the edges. Her fandom is in near-universal agreement that this should have been a single to accompany her planned “LoverFest” tour of 2019, but that summer turned out to be crueler than anyone imagined, so it was a smash only in an alternate reality. The kind of Vocoder part in the call-and-response verses suggests this bop has an origin point somewhere in the ELO era, and of course it’s hard not to think of Banamarama, who were also cruelty-tested once upon a time. But this was all late-2010s in all its glory, before that glory got masked up.

Mastermind

The premise of the closing song of “Midnights” sounds almost megalomaniacal, when you read it on paper, and maybe even when you’re first hearing the brashness of the lyric. Swift sings that, as a not-so-evil genius, she pre-engineered every aspect of coming together with the partner with whom she now shares a deep, fulfilling relationship. It’s a statement of near-omnipotence you usually only find in pop songs with darker leanings. To an extent, we have to understand that she’s exaggerating, for effect, about these apparent superpowers of hers. And yet the end intent of the song is deeply serious: She’s explaining that women historically have to go to extreme lengths to be the steerer in relationships that controlling men typically screw up. There’s also a whole backstory about the childhood slights that led her to develop these powers to manipulate for good. This leads to one of the greatest lines in all of Swift-dom: “I swear, I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian ’cause I care.” Is she kidding with that lyric? At least a little, I’m sure. Is she dead-serious, too? Undoubtedly. Suffice it to say that entire thesis papers will be written just about this one audacious track.

The Way I Loved You

Back in the “Fearless” days, we occasionally got Taylor Swift, the rock singer. (Arguably, we still have her, just without the rock arrangements.) The prime example was this track that pitted the polite guy who does everything right, who inspires no passion at all, versus the apparent scoundrel she was forced to leave behind, who made her want to stand in monsoons. Rock ‘n’ roll was played as a character trait for Mr. Passion, versus the string quartet on the verses that represented Mr. Right. Hearing those slamming guitars kind of fade in, the way they occasionally do on hits like “I Touch Myself,” was a nice way to alert the listener there’s a storm coming. However exaggerated the differences in this triangle might have been, it was only album 2 and Swift was already wanting to signal she wasn’t completely the Nice Girl portrayed on album 1.

Cardigan

It got a little confusing, for non-hardcore Swifties, trying to figure out which characters in which “Folklore” songs were which, after she revealed some of them recurred and had payoffs from one tune to another. Does the couple that shares a sweter together stay together? Did they come back together years later, as the pining outro strongly suggests? What we can say for sure is that Taylor Swift firmly cemented what Mister Rogers first promised: the cardigan as a signifier that everything is going to be all right.

Fearless

So much of the “Fearless” album came to be about the bracingly candid breakup songs, or embracing the fairy tale, in ��Love Story,” and rejecting it, in “White Horse” (and “Fifteen,” for that matter). That was more than enough grist to get Swift the first of her three album of the year Grammy wins, while she was still a teenager. But amid all that high romance and higher drama, there’s something at least as enduring about the simpler ambitions of the title song, which just speaks — via a typically great melodic line — to being unafraid. It was followed by a career that’s embraced what the song promised at pretty much every moment.

Lover

One thing that Swift didn’t have a lot of in her catalog: 6/8 waltzes. Situation rectified! It’s a wedding song for people who don’t intend, right away at least, to get married — there’s even a fakeout wedding scene in the middle of the song that ends with them vowing in front of God and onlookers to be, well, lovers — but anyone who wants to use it for actual nuptials probably gets a pass. It’s just universal enough to get that kind of usage in American customs and rituals, but you have to savor the bits that are pure Swift, whether it’s the guitar-string scars on her fingers or her custom-made vow: “Swear to be overdramatic and true.” Wait, is it her entire public she’s pretend-marrying, as well as this guy?

Dear John

At 6 minutes and 44 seconds, it’s still the longest song she’s released that doesn’t actually announce its running time in the title. And as a slow burn, it ends every second of the anger, sorrow, shame, lashing out and self-reclamation it unleashes. “Dear John,” about a character that the title does not leave too much cryptic mystery about, details the worst night she ever had that involved someone showing up for her party instead of missing it. At the time, it felt jolting well beyond expectation, that after the kiss-off experiences detailed in her previous album, she’d moved on to unabashedly detail what she considered a far more damaging experience. In retrospect, it doesn’t play as quite as musically furious a ballad as it seemed at the time, but it still packs a hell of a punch. And she still means it: One of the bonus tracks on the “Midnights” album, “Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve,” is clearly intended as a 12-years-later sequel, with certain numerological connotations that give her meaning away even if the lyrics didn’t. In Swift land, there are certain things you never get over — a curse, but for the purposes of art, also a blessing.

Blank Space

This is not necessarily the song you want to go back to constantly for pleasure now, but what a pleasure it was in 2016 when Swift used it to explode her own mythos, in one of the great power moves of modern pop. Her goal, she said, was to take every terrible trope that was being spread about her (hey, didja hear she was a serial dater?) and own it in a prideful anthem of ill will. And she did it magnificently, playing her public like a violin, including the ones who mostly got it and even the smaller portion that was left puzzled by her pop variant on country music’s classic “Your Good Girl’s Gonna Go Bad.” The satire was broad, but effective. Unfortunately, looking at the generation of influencers that’s arisen since, it’s not clear that some of them didn’t just take this spoof as a how-to manual.

Our Song

The finest song from Swift’s first album is an idyllic vision of an America where screen doors slam behind happy families and innocent teen lovers, who keep their late-night phone calls on the down-low “’cause it’s late, and your mama don’t know.” Imagine such a wonderful place exists — it’s easy if you try. Yes, it’s a song of puppy love, but maybe more importantly, it’s a Taylor Swift origin story. The premise of the lyric is that the developing couple, who are working up the courage to kiss, does not have “their song” yet. (They may have their artist, Tim McGraw, but that’s different, right?) So the tune ends with her sitting down to put pen to paper to write one, instead of passively waiting for something suitable to come up on the radio they can adopt. Mostly, you’ve probably thought of this as a frilly crush song — and it’s a great one of those, too — but what it really is first and foremost, right under our noses, is a declaration of young female artistic agency.

Mean

Surely you know the story behind this, among the greatest of all “answer” songs. Girl meets industry blogger boy; industry blogger professes admiration until her somewhat off-key performance at the Grammys causes him to spontaneously declare girl’s career completely over; girl writes song pushing back on that, landing a triple-platinum single with her response. And she does it with a pointed return to country music, something she had already effectively moved past in everything but name by the “Speak Now” album, singing in a childlike tone that made her sound like a little hillbilly David, taking on an influencer Goliath. Probably not many of those millions of fans paid close attention to the exact background to the lyrics. But apart from the “I can’t sing” bridge, this song was applicable to anyone who’s ever felt bullied in life, by a classmate, boss, family member, etc. It’s too bad it predated the social media explosion, by a little: “Mean” is really the Twitter National Anthem.

Gold Rush

Listening to the “Folklore” album, you could jump to assume that “Gold Rush,” like some of the other songs, is character writing. Otherwise, why would Swift be coming up with a song about someone who’s even prettier than she is, whose sheer charm takes up all the oxygen in a room — something that can’t be happening a lot to one of the most sought-after pop superstars in the world? Unless there was a romantic partner in her past who actually fit that bill… someone whose “hair (was) falling into place like dominos”… It all starts to make sense. But even if you don’t read that far into it, it’s a phenomenal song about the price being paid for being around that kind of charisma being too high to pay, whoever the charmer might be.

Anti Hero

When “Midnights” first came out, with none of the songs pre-issued to the public, if you weren’t paying attention to video premieres or that sort of splash, you might have taken “Anti Hero” as one of the odder songs on the album, not a sure out-of-the-box hit. But in Swift land, slightly weird works. Even the initial minor controversy over the “sexy baby” line — is it cribbed from “50 Rock,” or is it infantilization — abated, as almost everyone took it for as funny as it was, in the course of a verse where Swift is imagining herself as a feared and hated monster who’s going to be taken down. It’s a song about self-loathing, as she described it, and imposter syndrome, and clinical or unclinical depression… and wouldn’t you know, it’s also a deeply funny bop. That we can have such a bizarre amalgam at the top of the Hot 100 for weeks on end proves that, thanks to Swift being able to sell something this idiosyncratic, these are strange and wonderful times.

Right Where You Left Me

This is not the first time Swift relegated one of an album’s better numbers to bonus-track status, although she usually makes the right editing decisions. But “Right Where You Left Me” is another case entirely from, say, even “New Romantics”: The “Evermore” deluxe-edition also-ran is flatly one of her best and most dramatic songs, period. As a song about not being able to let go of an obsession with a deceased relationship, it’s pretty close to being up there with “All Too Well,” even if the fact that it’s written mostly in metaphor lands it in slightly more intellectualized territory than that other favorite.

Playing the role of someone presumably other than herself for this one, Swift describes in calm, cool, clipped sentences how she was dumped by a beau at a dinner meeting, and then simply never got up from the table, herself; she’s been frozen in place there, a ghost, for years. (Lucky or unlucky for her, not a high table turnover rate at this place.) If you are obsessive enough by nature to have become obsessed with the obsession in “All Too Well” — show of hands? — then you’ll probably have lived “Right Where You Left Me” at some point in your life. Swift’s talky verses suggest the cadences of somebody who really has been only talking to herself for too long, and collaborator Aaron Dessner is a perfect foil in creating a tense, slow build toward a big chill. A bit of sad, distorted guitar at the end sounds like it might be being piped in from the alternate dimension the protagonist is slowly sinking into.

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Swift has plenty of superior instances across her many records of breakups that sound like the end of the world. But she doesn’t have many of them that sound like a party. “We Are Never…” is the best bacchanal in her catalog. I’m not sure I want to join the exact celebration that is happening in her music video for the song, because furries are scary. But the way Max Martin and Shellback stacked her vocals on this fizzy delight of a song clearly aurally indicate that Swift is capable of having a freedom soiree all by herself. Everything here clicks into place for a start-to-finish perfect pop song, from the peculiar stop-and-start opening guitar riff to the cheerleader-style chant that makes the chorus one of the great modern pop sing-alongs. Even all the indie bands whose records her ex thought were much cooler than her love this song. And, of course, embedding a voice memo late in the track, one in which Swift seems to be spontaneously describing a recent split with language that will make its way into the song title, is just a hilarious power move.

Clean

A sense of recovery from trauma figures into a number of Swift’s songs, most of all this “1989” closer that represented a one-time co-write with indie artist Imogene Heap. The word “clean” is used with two different meanings here, although pretty much toward a common end. It’s clean as in the feeling of taking a prolonged shower after the accumulated grime of a sucky relationship… or as in getting clean, kicking an addition to toxic love. Either way, there’s been some bad juju at play, and somebody — Nurse Heap, maybe? — is helping take the curse off. What prompted Swift to co-write this calming, cathartic ballad is probably nobody’s business, but a lot of listeners have brought their own ugly experiences or addictive experiences to bear in appreciating this bath-salt ballad.

Mirrorball

“I’ll be your mirror,” the Velvet Underground once sang; this is Swift following up with: “Let me count the ways.” The Antonoff-cowritten “Folklore” track really does qualify as “shimmering,” for lack of a less obvious word. But deceptively so — Swift obviously doesn’t mean to suggest that serving as a pure reflector to the world’s varying wants and needs is a healthy thing, even though she sounds awfully darn pliant about the prospect within the confines of the magical music. This one has been compared to the Sundays and other prettily guitar-based indie-pop groups of yore, with a lulling electric guitar and a missing drumbeat you keep expecting to kick the song further into gear at any moment, in vain. It’s all so lovely — the funny thing is, in coming up with a song about being a people-pleaser, she came up with one of her most legitimately ear-pleasing tunes.

Style

Swift’s partner in this deeply sexy track is cosplaying as James Dean, at least in her mind, and she’s cosplaying as… Taylor Swift? Thee’s no duet part to let his hear point of view, but she does attest that he likes her “good girl faith and a tight little skirt,” and there’s no reason to believe she’s misreporting what turns the guy on. Honestly, Swift has never written a less deep song, and depth has never mattered so little, either. Max Martin and Shellback put some of their computer programming instincts aside to start this off with an R&B electric guitar riff that immediately sucks you in. And once the kind of light-disco-martial beat kicks in, the track feels like taking an open-top drive around Miami with Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas, only they’re a horny hetero cis couple.

Getaway Car

Swift was playing with a lot of fresh tricks on her “Reputation” album, and well, from some hip-hop styled phrasing on her part to some harsher electronic sounds being brought in by Max Martin and Shellback, making their final appearance to date on a Swift album. But with her other go-to collaborator of the time, Jack Antonoff, Swift crafted the song that is the most conventional-sounding track on the album, and also ultimately the best: “Getaway Car.” While much of the rest of the album flits back and forth between a defensive posture against public perceptions and an embrace of secret love, “Getaway Car” is something else altogether: an open letter of intent to move on, sung by a Bonnie who’s about to ditch her Clyde, with no particular shame or guilt attached to her leavin’ feelings.

In some ways this might be the most hard-ass song Swift ever wrote — it’s pretty close to a taunt, to a soon-to-be ex. She’s describing the dynamic of how sometimes you need a fresh flirtation to pull you out of a failing relationship, and how that can take on serial form: “Don’t pretend it’s such a mystery / Think about the place where you first met me / Ridin’ in a getaway car,” she tells the possibly uncomprehending fellow. This is an uptempo track with a lot of fun to how it plays, but the haunting quality of the chorus melody makes it feel profoundly sad, too, like she’s not as tough as she sounds, describing an escape pattern that’s just destined to be repeated by her and others over and over. Anyway, if you were to read this as literally about her past, it’s something that the public record shows she’s clearly moved on from. The happy ending is inherent, leaving us this strangely wonderful combination of arena-rock and hardboiled, fatalist noir to enjoy as one of her most fascinating tracks.

All Too Well (10-Minute Version)

In its original, truncated form on the “Red” album, “All Too Well” already felt a fluid narrative, but stretched out to more than twice its length for a “Taylor’s Version” remake, its details and remembrances transcend any sense of linear narrative. The song’s story feels almost like a “Groundhog Day” of meditative pain in which the story will never end because the couple will just never stop breaking up, in her mind. (Well, it might end if the sister ever returned the damn scarf, but by this point she don’t need their closure.) It becomes almost like a chant, even more soothing than it is bitter.

Having effectively talked Swift into recording a 10-minute draft of the song with their longstanding, cult-like devotion to the tune, Swifties need to take it to the next level. You know there have got to be another 10 minutes’ worth of rough verses to “All Too Well” in a drawer somewhere. We need the full-on Gregorian experience of this song, right? It’s time to petition for “All Too Well (20-Minute Version).” (Could you even imagine the explosion of joy?)

You Belong With Me

It’s as eternally teenaged as anything Swift ever wrote, but that’s no reason to have to grow out of it. Adult life is full of nothing if not many equivalents to high-school friend-zoning. Who among us eer stops wishing we’d be seen for our true selves by the guy who can’t take his eyes off the cheer captain, whether for us that’s the boss, peers, a distracted spouse or a seemingly indifferent deity? To the end, we beat on — boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the bleachers!

But seriously, has there been anything more monstrously hooky than this in the succeeding decade and a half? Even the parts of the song that seem like they shouldn’t work — like the way that Swift adds extra, melodically odd lines to the second verse (“What you doing with a girl like that?” What you doing singing in a key like that?) — only masterfully set up the return to the chorus to end all 21st century anthemic choruses. It is all of human yearning and striving packed into a song about remembering to take your specs off so the kid next door realizes you’re a cutie.

ts1989fanatic don’t necessarily agree with the order of his top 50 especially his numbers 1 and 2 they should really be reversed in my opinion. I can agree with his write ups on his track list.

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sanktnikolais · 3 years

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Invisible String

The three major events of Zoya's life that Nikolai has had glimpses of, and he feels her emotions all the way to his side of the invisible string connecting them.

or that zoyalai psychic/emotional connection au

@grishaverseonline mission 12: favourite character - nikolai lantsov

A/N: guess who’s posting a new content after months of hiding? HAHAHA. This was supposed to be posted yesterday for my birthday but I wasn’t able to finish early. So have this late birthday treat from me. ;-;

Warning tho, contains some RoW spoilers, and contains the alternate version (Am’s version LMAO) of the garden scene.

Word count: 5174

They said that it would take a lot for one to get accustomed to the pain that came with losses.

Nikolai never realized he had lost so much until he had everything within his reach.

He didn’t know it was already a loss when his mother had decided to be unfaithful to the King of Ravka and bore an illegitimate child with a Fjerdan merchant. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he had met a certain brown-haired boy in one of his private classes, not knowing that he would be the reason why that same boy would be drafted early for the war that would take his life later on. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he still tried to seek the approval of the older brother that never wanted him, and that would end up in him developing a cunning personality to gain acceptance from everyone around him. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he dropped the guillotine that would imply that his father was guilty of such a heinous crime, exiling both him and his queen to a faraway place, never to set foot on the country they had sworn to protect yet failed in every possible way.

It only came to him, when he was finally sitting on the throne and overseeing a broken country, that he hadn’t really gained anything along the way. Only nightmares that weighed on his shoulders and kept him awake at night, and the black scars that were just as dark as the blood of every life lost in the war coating his hands.

And pain.

Both the ones he had known and acknowledged, and the sudden, unexplainable bursts of physical or emotional pain that came to him in the most random times throughout his life.

Nikolai didn’t know when it started. Being a young royalty that grew up doing everything in his own cunning way had taught him to mask the pain into something less hurting. Whether it was telling horrible jokes or making something more complicated by talking too much—it was his way to beat around the bush and away from the impending truth, thinking that if he ignored it long enough, he would forget it.

It worked, somehow, but it only pent up the emotions in his heart that were bound to explode later on.

Even though that fact was clear to him, it still wasn't enough to justify his first, sudden outburst when he was twelve.

It was quite a normal day—he had another hour with the extra reading on chemistry and Kaelish history he had requested from his tutors, and he was stuck in the library until the late hours of the afternoon. But the truth behind it, however, was to have time to sneak in and out of the palace to visit Dominik and his family in the countryside.

The whole day of learning to braid Dominik's sisters' hair had ended happily, with Nikolai able to finish tying all of them, albeit resulting in tangles that would need more attention to fix later.

You'll get used to it, Dominik had mused with a light laugh. I didn't learn this in just one day.

Nikolai thought of them on his way home, seeing how their smiles seemed to reach their eyes when they laughed around each other, something he never saw or felt in the Grand Palace. An unwanted pricking stung his eyes, and he immediately reached up to wipe the tears away. It was foolish to be longing for something insignificant when he already had everything he needed. He could just ask anything from his servants and tutors, and they would appease his request without question. So why was he suddenly—

His throat clogged up with muffled sobs, the sickening feeling of both anger and sadness constricting his heart as if there was a fist was trying to crush it. The next thing he knew, he was collapsing on the palace gardens, and the tears were endless.

The wind picked up around him, followed by the sound of thunder. But they fell deaf in his ears as the wails tore from his throat.

Then it happened. The dreadful images of a ruined church and a horrified expression from the face of an old man flashed before his eyes, along with the searing feeling of anger directed to him.

But then the images faded as fast as they had come, and there was the sudden hollow feeling in his chest.

Palace guards found him in the same spot a few hours later, curled into a fetal position as if to shield his body from harm. The King had demanded he explain what had happened, and knowing their judgment to anything Nikolai had ever done and said made him lie. He told them he had hurt himself when he tripped and fell in the gardens, and they easily believed it as it was his own foolishness. There was no way they would believe him even if he tried to tell the truth.

He had been sent to a Healer right after that to check for other injuries, even when he knew to himself there wasn't any.

Except for the sudden hollowness in his heart that could never be filled.

***

The next one didn't happen until three years later, when Nikolai was fifteen.

He would never know what had given him away, but years of sneaking back and forth in the palace made him careless, and it was only a matter of time before Vasily, his ever cruel brother, knew about it.

"You're just turning sixteen," Vasily said with a sneer. "But you're already tumbling peasant girls. You're no better than father."

Fear gripped at his mind almost instantly when he realized that this mistake would befall on Dominik. Nikolai knew too well how commoners who had done something wrong would be punished by being barred from the palace in disgrace, sending them back to their families with nothing else but their clothes and themselves.

Nikolai had begged Vasily to hold his tongue, to keep a secret for him. But if there was one thing he knew about his older brother, it was that Vasily never cared about him.

So why would Vasily care about some boy with no name?

"Do you understand what you have done?" Nikolai asked furiously the next morning when he had cornered Vasily in the lapis drawing room.

Vasily merely shrugged. “Your friend won’t get to study with his betters, and you won’t get to keep rambling in the fields like a commoner. I’ve done you both a favor.”

“His family will lose their stipend. They may not be able to feed themselves without it.” His rage was boiling into something much worse, and he could feel it coursing through his veins. But he still held back. It was his weakness, he realized, that he didn’t have the heart to lash out his anger on someone close to him, no matter how cruel they had treated him. “Dominik won’t be exempt from the draft next year.”

“Good. The crown needs soldiers,” said Vasily. Then he scoffed, giving Nikolai a once-over. “Maybe he’ll learn his place.”

Nikolai had expected his anger to explode, all the pent-up emotions to finally be let go. But he felt disappointed instead, as if he had lost something important. It took him a second to realize that he had lost his respect and admiration for his older brother.

For years, he thought that Vasily was better than their father. Whereas their father sat slouched on the throne and shoulders hunched when he stood, Vasily was the exact opposite of him. He always stood tall, chin held up high. He was the spitting image of what Nikolai had imagined a royal should be.

But Nikolai had never been ashamed to admit that he was so wrong.

"You should be ashamed," said Nikolai quietly.

But Vasily only jabbed a finger to Nikolai’s chest. “You do not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, Sobachka," he snarled, his voice laced with poison, the same one that Nikolai almost drank when Vasily had mixed a droplet of it into Nikolai's cup. "I will be a king, and you will always be Nikolai Nothing.”

Then it happened again, the strange images appearing before his eyes. Where Nikolai expected it to be the same ones he saw four years ago, they were different this time.

The drawing room morphed into a rough terrain full of snow, and an enormous white tiger had replaced the spot where his brother was in front of him, its teeth bared and hind legs laid back to pounce.

It was then he felt the sudden feeling to protect himself, his survival instincts kicking in, and he did just that. The images faded, his surroundings fading back to the drawing room.

With a strength that came from nights spent roughhousing with peasants and workers alike in some shady fight club in Os Alta's outskirts, Nikolai snatched his brother's finger that was on his chest and twisted hard.

Vasily fell to the ground with a yelp. He looked impossibly small. A satisfying feeling settled itself in Nikolai's chest. It was most likely the worst he had seen his brother, and if Nikolai had only known that his older brother was nothing more than a facade to hide such a vile and weak face underneath, he wouldn't have wasted his whole life trying to be like Vasily.

"A king never kneels, brother," Nikolai hissed before he left his brother's prone form on the ground.

He was sure that Vasily wouldn't let him forget what he had done to him.

But the next time his brother would try to come for him, Nikolai would be ready.

***

The worst one happened almost five years later.

He was finally fulfilling his dream as a privateer in the seas, and the name Sturmhond was born right in the middle of the True Sea, never to be forgotten by all sailors and pirates as the years would go on.

It was supposed to be a diplomatic meeting with the Fjerdan traders that came from Djerholm. They were set to talk about the territories, with Fjerda claiming that they didn’t allow enemy ships to sail freely at the northern True Sea without permits unless they wanted their ships obliterated by Fjerda. Nikolai had wanted to laugh when he saw the ship; it was too enormous and too sturdy-looking to be of trading purposes only. He assumed that it had to be a warship since its captain and crew were too confident to stop the Volkvolny. No one ever dared to go against the Volkvolny —the black sails that had guided them for years were already a familiar sight to all the sailors and pirates. Though it was smaller than any warships in the seas, it could still go on par with ships twice as big as it, and it had sunk numerous vessels and gotten away unscathed.

These Fjerdan ‘traders’ should have known better than to get in the Volkvolny’s way.

True enough, when Nikolai had stepped into the enemy ship to negotiate the terms, he immediately noticed the heavy artillery carelessly covered by a rag on the main deck. They had even attempted to blend it in among the cargo crates scattered on the floor, but the canons were obvious underneath the thin material covering them. He let out a breath. He suddenly wasn’t sure if going here with only his two Shu mercenary turned personal guards was ideal. At least twenty rough-looking men were surrounding them, and their captain, Captain Hjar, was only a bit shorter than Tolya, and yet he still looked impossibly tall than all of them. His hair had been cropped close to his skin, exposing the lined scar that ran from his temple to the spot behind his ear.

Tamar had voiced out her concerns then, telling him that something was not right, and Nikolai acknowledged it greatly. The Shu mercenary’s gut instincts already saved their lives countless times before, and he wasn’t going to ignore that. But he knew the Fjerdan crew’s taste for dominance. He wasn’t just going to let these men do as they please to the travelers that would pass their private routes.

He could only hope that this risky meeting they were doing would turn in their favor.

And yet as soon as they stood in front of Captain Hjar and his men, the wooden bridge that connected the two ships was cut off, causing shouts of protest from his crew back in his ship.

“Oh, wow," said Nikolai with mocking surprise. Tolya and Tamar tensed behind him, their hands already poised on the weapons strapped to their belts. He turned back to Hjar. "We haven't even started the meeting yet."

Captain Hjar only smirked. "Better not waste your time, little wolf," he said, his voice scratchy as if he had been shouting his whole life. "Why try to prolong this when it would still end in the same result?"

"Lay down your sword, Hjar."

"These men would be making bread from the bone and skin of skinny Ravkan boys tonight, little wolf. And I can assume your ship has plenty of valuables, aye? I cannot promise not to hurt your men," he said, and his men laughed together with him. When he stopped, his cold eyes held a dangerous glint as he stared at the twins behind Nikolai. "And it'd be fun to have some nice, warm campfire with those two Grisha of yours."

Something in Nikolai's mind had quieted, shutting out anything logical from coming into his head. The thoughts halted. His rage slowly took over like a monster finally overwhelming its prey. He felt numb and empty, and he realized that the rage was focused on the Fjerdan captain.

Then for the third time in his life, it happened again. Everything else faded around him and threw him under the landscape of complete darkness. It was like he had been thrown into the Fold. After a moment, it blurred and shifted to another—a small, empty shop in some town he couldn't recognize where. Then it shifted again, and this time, it showed him a man who was on his knees, clawing at his throat as if he were struggling to breathe.

Nikolai held onto those images in vain, so he could make sense of them earlier on. But the rage inside him had him forgetting them in a snap, and all he could feel was anger. Anger towards everything.

With that, his body relaxed, and he regarded Hjar with a calm tone. These men needed to know their places. "Maybe you're right about that, Hjar," he asked, and he saw the Fjerdan captain acknowledge him with mocking curiosity. "But it wouldn't be my men who would be butchered today."

He saw the shift of expression from the Fjerdan captain's face, and Nikolai pounced with his own sword.

The fight hadn't even lasted for a minute. Hjar's men had completely underestimated the mercenary twins by just being Grisha, but they were just as deadly as any well-trained assassins. Soon enough, Nikolai’s crew had the Fjerdans tied up and shoved them down their knees, with Hjar at Nikolai’s mercy. But he felt nothing at all.

"You want to know something, captain?" asked Nikolai mildly as he went behind the burly man and held up his tied hands on his back. Hjar gave a pained grunt. Then Nikolai leaned down near the man's ear. "Foolish old captains aren't fit meat for Ravkan men."

Then he took out his knife and cut the Fjerdan captain's fingers.

Nikolai barely heard the man's screams or even felt the blood gushing out from the wounds. He just felt numb all over. If his crew noticed the sudden change in his behavior, they didn't voice it out. Only the twins were the ones who showed a bewildered reaction as Nikolai held the decapitated fingers in his bloodied hands.

He threw them over his crew's guard hound dog at the side. "Eat up, Razjen," he said. "I'm pretty sure the dogs would appreciate that kind of meat given to them."

That same night, he and his Volkvolny crew had drunk and eaten to their guts' limits from the spoils they had divvied up from the Fjerdan trader ship. From the night until the earliest hours of dawn, they had laughed, celebrated, and sung until their throats were raw and their bellies full.

But when the night ended and Nikolai had retreated into the confines of the captain's quarters, he had thrown up everything he had eaten until tears stung his eyes. He had expected them to stop when he was done, but it only worsened as sobs and wails tore from his lips again, just like it had almost a decade ago, when he had collapsed in the palace gardens and cried himself out for a reason he had never known.

And as the hours passed and night broke into dawn, the tears had finally stopped. Nikolai fell asleep, but the hole that had made its way to his heart from the first time he felt the sudden shift in his emotions now only felt deeper than before.

***

Nikolai blinked as he felt the heavy tug in his heart again. It was much more painful than before as if whatever at the other end of the string wanted him to hurt on purpose, and he was left to choose whether to still follow her in or not.

The funeral had ended hours ago but he could still feel the heaviness and gloom lingering in the air. He wanted to visit Genya in her quarters for the night, just to extend whatever he could offer her for the meantime. But he decided against it when he rounded the corner leading to the Tailor’s chambers, and that’s when he saw Zoya coming out from the door. She had lingered outside for a moment, her hand clutching at the handle as if to hold herself upright. If he looked harder, he was sure it really was the reason as he saw her shoulders shaking and her head was bowed down, something his general never did.

A searing pain in his chest made him wince, the hurting so painful it felt like he had just been burned by a branding iron. The want—the need—to reach out for her was the only thing he had wanted to do at that moment. But he willed the thought away, remembering how the things were between them.

They did not look to each other for comfort, and he knew the last thing Zoya would want was for him to give her his sympathies. It had been their unspoken agreement ever since Ravka was put on their shoulders. There was no time for sentiments, they would only spiral them down much worse.

After another minute of silence, Zoya had quietly left, her form completely blending in with the gloominess that surrounded the palace walls. Nikolai decided to follow her out then, and it led him to now, following her through the dark, narrow walkway that led into someplace he wasn’t sure of. Tangles of vines pricked at his skin as he walked further. Eventually, he reached the other end of the path, and the sight of the place astonished him.

Flowers and shrubs of every variety were lined up in the soil beds, overwhelming the ground in different colors. The open ceiling of the area had allowed frost and snow to fall over the plants, and it coated the leaves and petals alike. It looked almost like a small world of only peace and serenity, and yet it felt like a garden of sadness, with grief dripping on every plant and bleeding through the four walls that surrounded it.

Nikolai spotted Zoya in the middle of the dim garden, her back turned to him as she looked around. Snow was starting to fall, and it caught in the dark waves of her hair. Under the moonlight, she was glowing, a saint watching over the people. But behind the light that masked her real face, something was wrong. What once was her perfect stance and chin held high, she was now hunched, bent down, as if she were hiding from the world.

Then he felt it again, the sharp and painful tug in his chest. But this time, it felt different. This time, it was leading in a direction.

And it was leading towards her.

Nikolai blinked, his eyes widening a fraction. Could it be—

"I'm running out of room," she said, her voice barely a quivering whisper.

Had she known he was following her all along?

"Do you—" Nikolai shook his head, unsure of what to say. He tried again. "You tend to this place?"

Zoya was silent for a moment. Her shoulders had gone stiff the same way she was poised for battle. But Nikolai had merely asked a question, and he wondered if it was prying enough to cause that reaction from her.

"I needed somewhere to go to distract myself, and this has always been the place my feet would lead me to," she said quietly. "It was an old vegetable garden. I found it years ago, back when—" Her voice broke into a muffled cry, and yet there were no tears, like she refused to let them fall. She shook her head, her hands lifting as if to brag about the wonderful bunch of plants around her. But the gesture looked so helpless, so lost, and she let her arms fall back limply to her sides. Then in a broken whisper, she repeated, "I'm running out of room."

Nikolai's eyebrows drew tight in concern. He took a step towards her, and stopped almost immediately. It felt like he was treading across a dangerous line that neither of them ever had the guts to cross. Things were already too complicated, whether it’s about Ravka or about them, and he didn’t want to make things worse. But he refused to leave her on her own. Not like this.

Slowly, he made his way towards her, feeling the tug become stronger and stronger until he stopped at her side. He felt the cold seep through his clothes, harsh and biting like Zoya’s daily demeanor. But tonight, there was only grief and sadness, and it made everything even colder.

There was a long silence between them as he waited for Zoya to speak. Or if she wanted to speak. He wasn’t going to force anything from her. It was already a painful day for them to get through, and he wouldn’t add to the burden they were all carrying on their shoulders. He was grateful for the silence either way.

But when Zoya spoke later, her voice was quiet, lacking the usual sharpness it always had. “I plant something new for every Grisha lost,” she started. And there it was again, the heavy feeling in Nikolai’s chest that weighed down on him and made him struggle to breathe. It took all of Nikolai not to reach out for her. Then she lifted her hand and started pointing to the plants. “Heartleaf for Marie. Yew for Sergei. Red Sentinel for Fedyor. Even Ivan has a place. He was once a soldier like us too, before the Darkling corrupted him.” She touched her fingers to a frozen stalk near the edge of the soil bed. “This was for Harshaw, and they will blossom bright orange in the summer, just as bright as his ridiculous hair.”

Nikolai felt a small smile twitch on his lips. There was an obvious jest in her tone, but her words were sad, still haunted by the past war they could never be free of. He reached for the plant, letting his fingers touch its leaves delicately. He dusted off the frost from the leaves’ surface, and it almost looked as new as ever. The Inferni had once fought beside him in the mountains and with Alina and the others in the Fold, proving his loyalty up until the very end. It was unfortunate that he didn’t get to see past the war as it had already taken his life.

“These Dahlias were for Nina when I thought she’d been captured and killed by the Fjerdans,” Zoya continued, her hands reaching out to the flowers next to Harshaw’s. “They bloom with the most ridiculous red flowers in the summer. They’re the size of dinner plates.” Then as steady as her hands were when she first reached out to touch them, they began to tremble badly. “This was the last one I vowed that I would plant. I kept promising myself over and over and over. But they only kept increasing. There was no end. And now David—” She stopped abruptly, her throat clogging up with a quiet sob. “I’m running out of room, Nikolai.”

A tear escaped Nikolai’s eye, and he quickly wiped it away. He didn’t know why he did that. Earlier in the funeral, he didn't shed a single tear when he gave the eulogy, only the prickling pain that gave the first signs of tears. But they didn’t fall. Guilt had been clawing at him ever since, thinking that he hadn’t cared enough to show that he was mourning the loss of an old friend. It was only reasonable to cry; they were all grieving, after all. So why still hide, when there was no one else to see him?

Then he realized it was what he had been used to. This was what they were taught. You don’t let yourself wallow in sadness—you get back up and continue on. No matter how heavy the weight on your shoulders was.

Soldiers did not cry. Princes did not weep. And kings should never get fazed by such sentiments and emotions.

But what if it was the only thing left to do?

Nikolai glanced at Zoya, seeing tears staining her cheeks as well. She wiped at them hastily and tried her best to blink them away. He heard her draw in a shuddering breath.

“They will continue to thrive and bloom as long as they get taken care of,” said Zoya, her fingers curling around a stalk from the dahlias. “But what if they don’t? What if they stopped even as I tend to them everyday?”

He immediately understood the deeper meaning behind her words. Every life lost under her watch; every Grisha blood staining her hands. It was the weight on her shoulders she had always carried, a weight that existed ever since she had been a soldier, up until now that she was their general.

If he could only take all the burden from her chest and carry it along with his own, he would have done it. But that wasn’t how it worked. They were all bound to have their own burdens—it would only be a matter of difference with the people around them that would help them get back up on their feet whenever they get too tired from carrying it all.

Nikolai let out a long breath, his gaze landing on the twisting gray branches that ran along the perimeter of the garden. He recognized it right away. “Thorn wood,” he murmured. He felt Zoya’s confusion even before she could voice it out, so he continued speaking. “It grows around, protecting everything within these walls, stronger than anything else in the garden, weathering every season. No matter the winter it endures, it still persists, all prickles and thorns and spines anger just to keep protecting everything here.” Then he turned to her, looking down at the bright and never-ending flames behind her eyes. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Those thorns, they remind me of you. Prickly and sharp, just like you are. But its purpose was to protect all these flowers and plants, like the way you protect our people.”

Zoya almost looked like she was on the brink of breaking, but her questions persisted. “And what if the winter is just too long and hard? What if it can’t continue protecting them all?”

He was afraid to reach for her, but he did it anyway. He took her gloved hand in his, and when he expected her to pull away, she didn’t. Instead she folded into him like a flower closing its petals at nightfall. “Then it would still be there, watching over all the flowers and plants, giving them the sense of protection, keeping them strong until the summer comes, even as its life withers away.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a laugh escaping his lips. “I do hope I made sense with all that blabbering.”

This earned a huff from his general. “Who says you ever did?” she said, but he felt her hand squeeze his back, gratitude evident even from that smallest of gestures. That was when tears fell from her eyes again, and Nikolai felt some of his own as well.

Trusting what his gut told him to do, he wrapped his arm around her.

And in the same exact moment, Nikolai didn’t feel the painful tug in his chest anymore. It was as if he had undone all the tangles and knots between, and he could finally pass through the thread without difficulties.

Zoya seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then with a soft breath, she let herself lean against him. Zoya the deadly. Zoya the ferocious. The weight of her against him felt like benediction, the long lost piece from the puzzle that he had been trying to figure out for years. For the first time in his short life, he felt at peace. He had been strong for his country, his soldiers, his friends. It meant something entirely different to be strong for her.

When he thought that they did not look at each other for comfort, he had just been understanding it quite differently. No, they gave each other comfort in their own way—whether it was through sharp wits and harsh words that kept their will stronger, or even just through knowing looks and long silences. It was their way to tell each other that they were always there to keep each other marching on their feet, and pull each other from the darkness they were both continuously fighting their way out of.

There would still be a lot of problems to face, obstacles to get past with, lives to be lost. But they would be alright. They still had each other to get through everything, and it was enough.

Together.

And that’s how it would be from then on until the very end.

***

He used to believe that the other end of the string was just like any other end, blunt and empty. Not once did he ever think that he could be wrong.

Now, Nikolai knew one thing. It would always lead towards her.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #king of scars #my writing #hHNNNNGGGG #guess who came back to post some shitty mess #HALJKHASDFLJAS #the canon events in their childhood are so close to their ages so it's quite fun to make these parallels #and it's sad sad #;-;#i hope i did justice with the garden scene rewrite/alternate version #tiff came up with this idea some time ago and i only finished it today T-T #everyone go support tiff and her galaxy brain plz #no that is not a request #it's now time to disappear again for another few months HAHAH

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arofili · 2 years

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Fëanor’s age at the time of his father’s remarriage

Over the years I’ve seen many different claims about how old Fëanor was at the time of Finwë’s marriage to Indis. I wanted to clear up the “truth” of this canon...mostly by acknowledging that It’s Complicated.

This is all very complicated because Tolkien never really made up his mind on a) timekeeping and b) the rate of elven maturity. Personally I ignore any attempt to make a Tree Year 10x or 144x longer than a Sun Year because it makes my brain hurt, and I generally go with the logic that elves have important age milestones at ages 50 and 100, but these are all deliberate choices and certainly not the only interpretation of any text.

But what information do we have on this subject? Generally, we know less about Fëanor’s age at Finwë and Indis’ marriage, and more about his age upon Míriel’s death, an event that necessarily precedes the remarriage.

The Shibboleth of Fëanor (in Peoples of Middle-earth) states that Míriel did not die until Fëanor was “full-grown”:

Her weariness she had endured until he was full grown, but she could endure it no longer.

Thus, he would have to be an adult at the time of Finwë’s remarriage, because Finwë certainly did not remarry until after Míriel’s death.

In Laws and Customs among the Eldar (Morgoth’s Ring), the section “On Naming” says that Fëanor never knew Míriel at all:

But the name of insight which his mother Miriel gave to him in the hour of birth was Feanaro 'Spirit of Fire';* and by this name he became known to all, and he is so called in all the histories. (It is said that he also took this name as his chosen name, in honour of his mother, whom he never saw.)

Further down in LaCE, we get the story that the published Silm pulls from most heavily:

At their parting (for a little while as he deemed) Finwe was sad, for it seemed a thing unhappy that the mother should depart and miss the beginning at least of the childhood days of her son.

LaCE also gives an interesting detail about his age at the time of Fingolfin’s birth:

As soon as he might (and he was wellnigh fullgrown ere Nolofinwe was born), he left his father's house and lived apart from them...

I take that to mean that he wasn’t quite an adult, but was close to it, when Fingolfin was born, and that this is the first time he was leaving the house, so it was unlikely that he was already married to Nerdanel at the time.

The Annals of Aman, also in Morgoth’s Ring, give Fëanor’s birth year as YT 1179, which is later changed to 1169. Then we learn that Míriel dies in the year 1170, when Fëanor was 1 year old. The Statue of Finwë and Míriel is decreed in 1172, and Finwë does not marry Indis until 1185, fully 13 years later when Fëanor is 14 years old.

So: it seems to me that while the story differs between drafts, Fëanor is very young when Míriel dies (either a baby or a young adult) and there is some time between her death and Finwë’s remarriage. If you go with the version where he is older, he is still not fully an adult at the time of Fingolfin’s birth, and therefore probably wasn’t married himself - though since all we know about his own marriage is that it occurred “in his early youth,” it’s still a possibility! But since the same text then says that he left his father’s house at the same time, I think it probable that he wasn’t married - perhaps he was moving to apprentice with Mahtan? Which would place his marriage not long afterward.

Basically, we have 3 versions:

1. Shibboleth: Fëanor was full grown when Míriel died. Therefore, he must have been full grown when Finwë married Indis.

2. Laws and Customs: Fëanor was an infant when Míriel died; he never even saw her. We don’t know how old he was when Finwë married Indis, but we do know that he was almost but not quite an adult when Fingolfin was born.

3. Annals of Aman: Fëanor was 1 year old when Míriel died. He is 14 years old when Finwë marries Indis. This is my preferred version, but it’s complicated by questions about how long is a Tree Year, anyway? And how fast do elves grow? Are those two things in harmony with one another? We know numbers here, but not necessarily what those numbers mean.

In conclusion, there is no one true canon, though the story that most resembles the one appearing in the published Silm is the one in LaCE.

Make of this what you will! There are several options, and many interpretations of each, especially when it comes to the interpersonal relationships of Finwë, Míriel, Fëanor, Indis, and Fingolfin. I would advise against claiming any one of these as “more canon” than another - and if you’re going to post about your headcanons, do mention which draft you are building off of!

But overall, you can make up your own mind on how you think this went down. Pick your favorite draft - or pick your favorite details from each draft! The fun thing about the complexity of Silm canon is that we can all make our own decisions and shape our own stories!!!

#silm #silmarillion #home #morgoth's ring #lace #annals of aman #shibboleth of feanor #finwe #feanor #miriel #indis #silm meta #my meta #tefain nin

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etuwubrutus · 2 years

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yeah okay I'm doing this – everything we know about julian diaz and his family (a guide for fic writers, because I am absolutely going to push for more fics any way I can):

The Diaz Family:

He was born in the US, as was his brother, Rodrigo. Their parents both immigrated from Colombia – we don't know much about his mom, other than she left her husband + kids shortly after Julian's birth.

His dad's name was Ramon Diaz, and he worked with Carlos Martinez in their joint mechanic shop at least ten years before canon events

Ramon owned an electric-blue 1970 Corvette Stingray, which he'd modified for years.

Presumably, the Diaz family lived in an apartment somewhere closeby during this period.

Ramon died from a stray bullet during a drive-by shooting, two years before canon.

There is a six year age difference between Rodrigo and Julian – when Ramon died, Rodrigo was twenty years old and Julian was fourteen.

After Ramon's death, Rodrigo became Julian's legal guardian, and got a job at his father's mechanic job, now solely run by Carlos Martinez. Due to their father's connections with Carlos, the brothers were allowed to rent the apartment above the shop.

According to some characters, Julian became a 'real asshole' a year before canon events, which would be one year after his father's death.

Rodrigo (Rio):

Rio was a serious, shy child, going by the photos we see during canon events. As a twenty two year-old adult, he's still reserved, but shows concern and compassion for his brother's friends.

When he was around 15-16, he ran with a gang (the same one Luca was pulled into 1-2 years before canon). Going off of assumptions, Julian would have been ten years old here at most. This implies that Ramon was alive at this point, too. (Rio's father's involvement may have had something to do with him eventually leaving the gang, but this is just extrapolation.)

When Rio left the gang, his arm tattoos were burnt off. As mentioned in canon, the gang had a 'blood in, blood out,' policy. The fact that Rio wasn't killed when he left implies that they 'owed' him (theorised by Julian.)

This courtesy stretched far enough for Rio to remove Luca from the gang as well, despite his head tattoos being burned off as well.

Rio has severe scars from his tattoo burns, though during canon events, he also has tattoo sleeves. One of the tattoos is of Santa Muerte.

Due to his job as a mechanic, Rio is also muscular, with emphasis on his arms

Julian (Jules)

Julian was an excitable, adventurous child (going by his dad's photos) and canonically shows an emotional bond toward Carlos Martinez, who resembles an uncle figure (a more watered down version of Yadriel + Catriz.)

At some point in his childhood, Ramon gave Julian a St. Jude pendant, with 'J. Diaz' inscribed on the back. It carries emotional weight during canon, as it is the tether for Julian's spirit.

He seemed to have had a good record with school attendance before his father's death (before high school).

He and Omar are known as good friends, who used to play on the boy's soccer team by most of the school. Julian quit the team one year before canon.

Julian and Rocky are, according to him, best friends (in typical wlw mlm solidarity. I could add a little potential backstory here but it's a goldmine, so I'll save that for a fic :P)

Julian has a close bond with Luca, who is hinted at being the same age as the rest of them. (I'd call the relationship 'brotherly,' but it's up to interpretation.) His protectiveness could be attributed to Luca's business with the gang pre-canon.

Julian and Flaca also have a close friendship, evident by how he defends her in conversations during canon events.

Julian is a graffiti artist, who signs his work with the name 'St. J,' (a reference to Saint Jude, patron saint of lost causes. Jude, Julian? connect the dots besties.)

Two of his works shown in the book: A mural of Guadalupe, near the mechanic shop, as well as the 'trans rights skull' graffiti in the train underpass.

He and his friends often hang out around the city together, at fast-food restaurants (Jack in the Box, King Taco, etc.) They travel using their skateboards, and do not have bus passes. Julian is the only one of them to own a smartphone.

Julian knows enough about skateboards to modify his own. This knowledge may be due to his father and brother's careers as mechanics.

Julian has buzzed-short hair, which he maintains himself. His reasons, in canon, are that 'there's less to hold onto during a fight,' although no further evidence is provided to back his claim up.

He also has a curved scar above his ear, running until the nape of his neck. The reasons for this are unknown.

At some point, 1-2 years before canon, Julian fought with a boy in his biology class named 'Pancho' and ended up breaking his nose. (Julian turns red when talking about this, implying that he's embarrassed, and tries to correct the statement.)

#I'll probably do these for the other characters as well #cemetery boys #Aiden thomas #Julian diaz #Ramon diaz #rodrigo diaz #cemetery boys lore #guys PLEASE write fic #I am begging u #I cannot be the only oneeeee

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eldritchlittleblackdragon · 2 years

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Images made using, this, this, and this Picrew. Just a heads up, this post is looooong. And for the purposes of Alice’s story, the events of the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles take place between November 1898 and November 1899. This does throw off certain historical events and such but that would have been the case even if placing the games anywhere from a couple years later to a couple years earlier soooooo yeah. Also Herlock Sholmes is Sherlock Holmes and Wilson is Watson but I otherwise use English localized names/spellings.

Lady Alice van Zieks

Also known as: Alice Rask (maiden name), Doctor Van Zieks

Age: 27 (At the start of Great Ace Attorney Adventures/DGS1)

Gender: Cis Female (She/Her Pronouns)

Sexuality: Demisexual (Biromantic??? ???)

Neurotype: Autistic

Ethnicity: Caucasian (Irish, British, and Danish descent)

Nationality: American (by birth), British (by marriage)

Languages Spoken: English, Japanese, Irish

Occupation: Noblewoman, Student (at start of DGS1), Coroner (After Case 4 of DGS1)

Height: 5′0″

Build: Petite

Eyes: Grey

Hair: Dirty Blonde, Long and usually tied in a crown braid (Picrews didn’t quite have what I was going for so got as close as I could)

Complexion: Rosy

Other Physical Characteristics: Myopia (Wears glasses), Ambidextrous (is naturally left handed but was taught to use her right hand)

Hobbies: Sketching, Nature Walks (+Foraging), Reading (Especially horror and nonfiction, especially pertaining to science and law), Cooking and Preserving Food (Canning/Pickling)

Likes: Science (especially Pathology+Medicine), Art, Nature, Animals, Food

Dislikes: Small Talk, Overly Crowded Spaces, Humidity (EVIIIIIL), Mosquitoes (EVIIIIIILLLLL), Porcelain Dolls (she doesn’t mind/likes other kinds of dolls though)

Relatives (non-canon characters): Dr. Simon Rask (Father), Nora Rask (Mother), Vester Rask (Paternal Uncle), Elizabeth Rask (Paternal Aunt by Marriage), Orla McBride (Maternal Grandmother)

Friends/Associates (Non-canon characters): Agnes Ward (friend - husband is William, and has fraternal twins Pavise (boy) and Aegis (girl)), Operton Nox (Mentor/Professor from the University of London)

Personality: Alice is a very intelligent, thoughtful, and passionate individual. She believes in truth, compassion, and following her principles, even if they put her at odds with common social convention. Generally speaking, she is thoroughly loyal to the people she cares about, but can find herself backing away from someone if she feels they have betrayed her emotionally, finding herself on guard constantly and even aggressive with such a person. Alice is meticulous and very detail oriented, even to the point of being a perfectionist at times that agonizes over the little things. She has a tendency to overthink situations and is prone to anxiety as a result. In spite of being a very practical and logical person on principle, Alice is a person with very strong emotions that she doesn’t have the easiest time understanding let alone dealing with those emotions.

She is kind and always willing to help her friends, even going considerably out of her way for them. This is both a strength and a detriment, as she can sometimes overextend herself as a result.

Pre-Canon Backstory:

Alice was born in 1871 to Dr. Simon Rask and his wife, Nora in the New England area of the United States. Alice had a relatively comfortable and peaceful childhood, if a bit unconventional at times. Her father was a Professor of Forensic Pathology at Brighthart University, and made good money from his work. But, while he was known for his insights in the field, he was also known for being a bit of an eccentric and a rather radical mind for his day and age. And he imparted a good deal of that to his only daughter. What he also seemed to pass onto her was a fascination with death and the stories of the dead, as well as an intense love of science and the beauty of the natural world.

As such, even from an early age, Alice was interested in following in her father’s footsteps to pursue a path in the field of Forensic Pathology and perhaps even one day become a Coroner. Her father was very encouraging of this, and tried to be a steady and guiding hand. She also developed an interest and made a hobby out of sketching scenery, including depictions of specimens her father was examining (or sometimes, that she examined herself). Alice would eventually develop an extremely reverent approach to autopsy work, the body of the deceased as something one took great care with. It was through their remains that the dead told their story, and it was up to her to see that their story was told as fully and accurately as possible. At age 16, she was permitted to begin more formalized training, starting her University career under the watchful eye of her father.

Her mother didn’t mind her interest in the field, but was very firm about Alice’s safety being ensured. She didn’t want Alice to end up sick or dead herself because she didn’t handle herself properly. Although, her mother always had a tendency towards being protective of her in general. This was in large part due to her mother’s experience as an Irish immigrant to America, not just with the prejudice she faced, but having to flea her homeland to escape The Great Hunger that was sweeping through Ireland and claiming the lives of the Irish in droves. Nora (Alice’s mother) managed to escape with her mother to America, but had to leave much of her family behind, many of whom succumbed to starvation as a result of the Great Hunger, or met other ill fates as a result of Anti-Irish sentiment when they tried their luck in Great Britain. Alice never went hungry, and her mother always feared her getting hurt from disease or because of prejudice.

When she was 18, her father was given a special grant to do some research in Great Britain, and she and her parents moved there for the time. Her mother wasn’t particularly happy about the arrangement, but her father tried to reassure them both about the experience. After all, they wouldn’t be among complete strangers while there. In fact, Alice and her family would be living with her father’s older Brother, her Uncle Vester Rask, and his wife Elizabeth. Vester had moved to Britain some time ago, partnering with a British friend he met in university in a business venture that met with notable success - Rask & Moore, a well-regarded ship building company.

She initially continued her studies, this time at the University of London under Professor Operton Nox. But then, her Uncle approached her family with a proposition of sorts. Vester and Elizabeth had no children, and lacked an heir to their estate as a result. They proposed to the family that they could name Alice their heir. But, they asked in return that Alice help them grow their influence among London’s Elite. It became clear rather quickly that they wanted their niece as a pawn to marry off to someone of great standing in British society, ideally a British aristocrat.

Alice’s mother found the idea terrifying, especially because Anti-Irish sentiment existed especially strongly among Britain’s upper class. As soon as anyone found out Alice was half-Irish, she’d be rejected and met with scorn. Her father was more torn. On the one hand, marrying into English nobility would almost certainly ensure that Alice would be well provided for in the future. But depending on who she married, she might have to give up on her dreams, and he wasn’t so keen on that. Alice’s own sentiment was similar to her father’s.

Vester tried to assure everyone he would ensure his niece’s interests and concerns would be top priority. There were plenty of eligible nobleman on the marriage mart for next London Season, and surely they could find someone with the ideal power or connections her Uncle wanted that would also give Alice the freedom she desired.

Alice continued to have reservations about the whole affair, but eventually was persuaded enough to accept, and as a result, her father consented to the proceedings. Alice’s mother reluctantly accepted as well, but warned Alice she should be careful around members of the English gentry. So, for the next year, Alice would be preparing for her London season, and temporarily had to reduce and eventually suspend pursuit of her studies, much to her chagrin.

At 19, she was introduced as a Debutante to London society, and she hated it. The Gossip, the restrictive social rules. And eyes were on her, being a newcomer from outside of Britain who was from new money. Some were wary of her and turned their heads, but she also garnered quite a lot of interest. She was beautiful, and her Uncle’s wealth was certainly attractive to members of London’s elite. And Alice found the interest in her more than a bit overwhelming, and above all, exhausting.

One night, she attended a party with her Aunt and Uncle at the home of Lord Harlan and Lady Ada Harebrayne. She enjoyed speaking with the Lord and Lady of the House and they seemed amiable enough, but she was otherwise just sort of bearing with things and going through the motions. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a looming figure in the corner of the room. A young man- much taller than she’d ever seen in her life, by himself, quietly away from the rest of the crowd. She found herself curious, and asked her aunt who he was and if she could be introduced to him.

Her Aunt and Uncle looked at her nervously before they told her the man was Lord Barok van Zieks, a member of a generally respected noble family who served as a Prosecuting Attorney in London. Lady Ada Harebrayne guessed that he was more than likely away from the other’s because he was disappointed at not meeting a friend he was expecting to. Lord van Zieks was a friend of her oldest son, Albert Harebrayne, who was currently doing work abroad in Germany. He was supposed to return to London briefly but had to stay behind at the last minute.

Alice felt for his situation and asked if maybe he would be amenable to conversation. Ada wasn’t sure, but perhaps if she and Alice’s Aunt Elizabeth together introduced Alice and Lord van Zieks to each other, perhaps he might. Elizabeth was reluctant, because Lord van Zieks had something of a dark reputation. Ada tried to assure Elizabeth that there would be no harm introducing them, and Elizabeth reluctantly agreed.

Barok was surprised to be approached, but more so, he was surprised by Alice’s warmth and genuine engagement with him. He wasn’t the sort to trust many people these days, and yet... here was someone that from what he could tell lacked an ulterior motive beyond genuine interest. They spoke a little about his friend Albert and about his scientific work which branched into other topics, and before they knew it they were having a fairly lively conversation. Eventually, they would part ways, but they both left a marked impression on one another. Alice was taken in by his quiet and thoughtful air and dry wit, and he by her insightful observation and genuine nature.

They would eventually seek each other out when attending the same social functions, finding each other’s company preferable to that of the others around them. And before long, the two of them became friends.

Alice eventually learned of Lord van Zieks’ fearful reputation as ‘The Reaper of the Bailey’ and the mysterious deaths that seemed to occur whenever someone he faced in court was found innocent. Alice wasn’t the sort to readily believe in the occult, so she wasn’t taken in at all by the idea he was ‘cursed’. She did worry at first that he was killing off defendants in an act of revenge, but found out later that it wasn’t possible. Getting to know him better, it also seemed unlikely he would do such a thing. But, he seemed content with other people believing what they would, and the fact he also seemed to be the target of revenge himself. She was worried about him, and tried to look out for him in ways she knew how.

At one point, when he was attacked, her managed to suffer an injury to his face which she tried her best to tending to while making sure he got help (and this is how Barok got his face scar).

Her Uncle Vester noticed their budding accord, and saw an opportunity. If his niece married Lord van Zieks, not only would she marry into a powerful noble family, her husband’s reputation could serve her uncle’s interest by warding off any would be enemies. So, he put pressure on Alice to try to ensnare Lord van Zieks romantically.

Alice initially rebuffed him, wanting to make her own choices and not take advantage of her new friend. But that didn’t mean she was immune to the pressure. She appeased her Uncle somewhat by seeking out Lord van Zieks more actively and continuing to grow their friendship. She didn’t mind that part so much - she genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. And eventually the two of them became close enough that they could regard one another as Best Friends even. She trusted him completely - he was hard-working, high-minded, and sincere. She didn’t fall in love with him, but she found herself attracted to him, to the possibility of the relationship becoming something else. She’d never been in love with anyone. But could she be? Could she develop such feelings for her friend? She was willing to find out.

But something else was happening as well. Barok grew very attached to Alice, being one of the first people he trusted in quite some time. She was caring, honest, intelligent. He couldn’t help himself when he eventually found himself falling for her. He wanted to be with her as much as possible. But, he had to be careful, as he might very well be placing a target on her back if he pursued her romantically in earnest. So he very thoughtfully, very carefully conducted himself when he began to court her purposefully.

Eventually, Van Zieks proposed to her. But, he warned her that if she was to accept his proposal, she would need to learn how to defend herself. He could protect her to a point, but he wouldn’t always be around. So, he would teach her, and make sure she had whatever other people or materials she needed to achieve sufficient skill to protect her own life. Alice told him she would do what she needed to do, and that she trusted him as she trusted no one else. He was satisfied with that answer. And so, the two married (at the ages of 20 for Alice and 25 for Barok, respectively), and Alice became Lady Alice van Zieks. Her husband worked hard to keep her out of the limelight, but he couldn’t stop gossip about the new ‘Bride of the Reaper’ from circulating around London.

Van Zieks was supportive of his wife’s education in the beginning, and she resumed her studies while also learning the ins and outs of being the lady of the Van Zieks family. During the course of her studies, she became acquainted with the detective Sherlock Holmes, who one day requested a favor of her. There was a young girl in his care who was quite brilliant, so much so that she was pursuing a medical degree at a tender age. He asked that, if Alice had time, that she spend time with this girl and maybe be her tutor or even simply a study partner. She initially thought the girl to be Holmes’ daughter the way he talked about her, but that apparently wasn’t the case. She was more of his ward, he said. Curious, she thought. She agreed, and thus became acquainted with and befriended Iris Watson. The two became fast friends, even seeing one another as family. (Iris even began to refer to Alice as ‘Auntie.’) She also became friends with Holmes as a result of her visits with Iris.

Unfortunately due to his work, Barok was absent quite a bit in the first year or two of their marriage (barring the first month after the wedding). But he tried very much to make up for it by spending what time he could with her. He was nothing if not a gentleman, as well as a devoted husband, and quite affectionate towards his wife in private. They never managed to have any children together, though not for lack of trying. Alice felt her attraction to him grew, like the beginnings of what could become romantic love were taking root. But was it the beginnings of romantic love, or intense lustful desire mixed with her strong emotional attachment to him (as her best friend)? It was hard to tell.

Alice did eventually attend some of Barok’s trials (hidden from view for her own safety), and was shocked at his behavior in some of them. Drinking in a court of law? Throwing bottles of wine into the public gallery at times? This behavior troubled her greatly. Surely losing his temper in such a manner was no good, especially in such a professional setting. But he also seemed consistent in his dogged pursuit of the truth, even at the expense of his own case at times. Something she admired greatly. She was left unsure of how to feel about it all. This would be the beginning of Alice’s trust and confidence in him starting to erode, but only below the surface.

During the third year of their marriage, Barok retired from his law career and took Alice to their country estate. He wanted to stop the deaths that were occurring as a result of his ‘curse’, and wanted to better protect that which he held dear to him. However, around this time, he also grew more increasingly paranoid about Alice’s safety. As she advanced in her study of Forensic Pathology, she began to consider taking a position with Scotland Yard, especially since it was rumored they already had a female coroner on staff. Surely they would accept more into their ranks in the future?

Barok refused to let her do this. She could continue her studies, but he didn’t want her working in Scotland Yard. However, he was faced with a problem. If he told her it was for her own protection, she would dismiss him and insist she would be fine. So what he told her instead was that he needed her at home, in her capacity as Lady van Zieks. Lord van Zieks typically wasn’t the sort to manipulate the truth or deceive for his ends, and he would eternally regret his actions in that particular moment. He knew it wasn’t right. But, in the heat of the moment, he desperately wanted to say anything he could to get Alice to back off from the idea. Either his enemies would try to hurt her, or Scotland Yard and the judiciary would try to eat her alive. He couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow the world to take someone else from him after what happened to his brother, Klint (though at the time he didn’t tell her this, and he would deeply regret that as well).

Alice did back off, but she felt betrayed by what seemed to her like a sudden reversal of principles on his part. She would grow resentful as a result of this, and this was the beginning of genuine conflict between the two of them. Her trust in him eroded further. Barok was no fool, and could see the effect it had, and tried to repair the damage, but short of reversing course, it seemed his efforts could only do so much.

Things really turned south when Alice received news that her Father was invited to Japan by an old friend to take a Professorship at a University there, and her parents would be moving there. Barok let slip a comment on the situation that alarmed Alice, and through an emotionally tense and fraught discussion (that turned into an argument), Alice learned of her husband’s racism towards Japanese people. Barok’s attitude towards them reminded her of the Anti-Irish sentiment she had heard of from her mother and what she’d seen in Britain. She knew the harm that sort of thing could do. She hadn’t yet told him of her Irish heritage, but she had reason to suspect he’d pieced it together. What he thought of it, she didn’t know. And that put her on edge. If he was prejudiced against Japanese people, what other bigotry could he also hold that she didn’t know of? She argued with him, saying it was unfair and illogical of him to generalize an entire group of people as he did and talk about them as if they were all terrible and less than anyone else. Deep down, Barok knew she wasn’t wrong about that. But he let his emotions get the better of him, and snapped, told her that she was being naive and that there was a lot she didn’t yet know or understand. He was speaking about the parts of his past he’d yet to reveal to her when he said that last part. But she took it merely as an extension of his insult to her, that she was naive. And that was when their marriage truly began to break down.

They found themselves increasingly at odds with one another, and prone to arguments. And her trust in him eroded further and further. Eventually, she reached a breaking point. She spoke with her parents in Japan, and consulted her grandmother who remained in America. And after many days of agonizing over the decision, she determined she couldn’t stay with him any longer. Not when he was like this.

She confronted him, and told him that she wished to legally separate from him (though not divorce him) and leave to be elsewhere. She couldn’t stay with him. This hurt Barok deeply, and initially he flat out refused. But he recognized that their marriage was in trouble. That Alice was losing trust in him and backing away from him. If he forced her to stay, kept her with him like a frightened animal in a cage, it would only stoke her resentment. So he reversed course, and agreed to the separation. And if she went somewhere else other than London, other than Britain even, she probably be even safer than she was here. As much as it pained him, it was his concern for her safety that was paramount.

Staying with her Aunt and Uncle was off the table due to them being in London, but she didn’t want to stay with them anyway. Barok thought perhaps she might go to live with her relatives in America. But, she surprised him when she declared she’d instead travel to Japan to be with her parents. Barok couldn’t help but feel like she was choosing that deliberately to thumb her nose at him. And he wouldn’t be entirely wrong about that. Alice wanted to make a point by going to Japan where her parents were.

Barok voiced his disapproval of her decision, and tried to get her to reconsider. But she’d made up her mind. She would go. And he relented, allowing her to. But, after she’d packed her things and made her way to the ship in Dover to take her there, he chased after her, to say one last goodbye. A last conversation that didn’t go as well as he’d hoped, but not as horribly as he feared, either. But, he let her go, as much as he didn’t want to.

And so, at age 24, Alice left Great Britain behind and made the 50 day voyage to Tokyo. And she would not set foot in Britain again for 3 years.

Alice arrived safely and moved in with her parents, getting settled in for the first month. She felt emotionally numb, nearly falling into a depression. But, her father tried to help her by getting her involved with research at Imperial Yumei University. He brought her in as a research assistant, and introduced her to the others in his department, including Dr. John H Watson who was a professor invited from Britain, as well as her father’s friend, Dr. Yujin Mikotoba. They had a pleasant first interaction, but he had a rather peculiar interaction when she mentioned her last name was ‘Van Zieks’. (He would later ask her father about this in private. Simon had mentioned she’d married an English nobleman, but had conveniently left out who that was.) Still, they got along well, and she met Yujin’s daughter, Susato Mikotoba, who she took an immediate liking to. Though they didn’t have a chance to interact much at first. She heard from Yujin that he also had a son who was around her age (but a few years younger) who would be attending University the following year.

She started attending classes herself (after discussing it with the University), picking her studies back up to head into the final stretch of her education. But, she had difficulty connecting to her peers and making friends due to emotional uncertainty and anxiety about her circumstances and what came before. She confided in her parents on the matter. Her parents desperately wanted to help her feel comfortable in Japan and willing to start a new life. So, in private, her father Simon reached out to Dr. Mikotoba about arranging a visit between their families and maybe introducing Alice to Dr. Mikotoba’s son (Kazuma Asogi). Both were in a point of their lives where they were left feeling lonely and uncertain, and both could benefit greatly from a friendship with each other, and the two parents suspected they’d get along quite well.

So, they arranged the visit, and Alice met Kazuma for the first time. It went over quite well as their parents had hoped. Although they didn’t realized quite the extent that first meeting impacted the two of them. Alice found herself immediately attracted to Kazuma, much to her alarm. But after the initial shock and brief wave of anxiety of those feelings wore off, she simply went on as though he were anyone else who might be a potential friend. Unbeknownst to her, Kazuma was quite taken with her as well, and found the two of them had an easy accord. Kazuma and then Susato became her first friends in Japan, and Alice began to feel more at ease and more immersed in her new life. Her first year went by quickly. And the next year, Kazuma enrolled at the University as a law student, studying to be a defense attorney. Their friendship grew, and they became quite close friends indeed.

That year, one of the English Professors was in desperate need of an additional teaching assistant to help his students, and wound up asking to borrow Alice for that purpose. Her experiences with both British and American English could be a great asset to the class, he said. She agreed to help, and eventually, she was doing work for said professor when a student from the class approached her about a rather tricky set of grammar rules. She did her best to help him, but during the conversation, they found themselves continually distracted by comparing British and American idioms to Japanese ones. But, she eventually was able to help him understand. He would come to her again for help after that, and they’d find themselves speaking a lot about this and that. And Alice made her next friend- Ryunosuke Naruhodo, an English major.

She noticed Ryunosuke had a talent for speeches, and suggested he compete in a speech competition that another friend of hers (Kazuma) was also participating in. It was at that competition Ryunosuke and Kazuma would become acquainted, and from there the two would become the best of friends (and this is also when Kazuma started wearing his red headband, see TGAA Escapades 1).

Ryunosuke also became best friends with Alice as well, his friendly, playful, and insightful nature endearing her quickly. All three together- Alice, Ryunosuke, and Kazuma became practically inseparable best friends. There was even a joke about the three of them being the ‘Matched Set’, the trio who were always together. Alice spent a lot of time with Susato as well, and the two of them were also good friends.

But while she was fast friends with Ryunosuke and Susato, her friendship with Kazuma took on more complicated dimensions as time went on. She began to develop romantic feelings for him, and this time it seemed all the more clear that this was what was happening to her. And it terrified her. She wasn’t supposed to feel that way about him. She was still married! And she didn’t even know if he could possibly like her that way too. He shouldn’t, she felt. And yet, there were things about their interactions that made her wonder.

In fact, Kazuma was indeed falling for her in turn. But he felt he couldn’t express those feelings to her. She was a married woman, and he didn’t want to risk compromising either one of them socially. He also feared that his feelings were clouding his judgment. If he could court her and marry her, he would. But was that wise? After all, the general wisdom in Japan was that feelings of love were detrimental to a successful marriage. He was a progressively minded sort, but he also had beliefs and patterns of thinking rooted in tradition as well.

None of it mattered anyway, he argued with himself. She was spoken for, and that was the end of it.

Eventually, Alice confided in her mother about her feelings, and how they frightened her. She didn’t want to do something that would ruin her or Kazuma, and she didn’t want to hurt Barok by cheating on him (and she’s just against the whole idea of cheating in general). And then her mother suggested that Alice divorce her husband. Why stay married to him at this point anyway? She clearly loves someone else, her marriage broke down beyond saving. The only thing keeping them together is legality. (Nora never really approved of her marriage to Van Zieks anyway but didn’t really feel she could object at the point Alice decided to say yes to it.) Alice expressed concern about social backlash. It was a lot easier to divorce one’s husband in Britain than it used to be. And thanks to the way the laws were now, she had more legal freedom and more of a leg to stand on than she otherwise would have even a couple of decades prior. But divorce was still looked down upon. And without proper reason, or Barok mutually agreeing, there was a good chance the divorce petition would be struck down. Plus her aunt and uncle would disinherit her. (She’d still be okay because of her parent’s inheritance but it would still be a big blow.)

But her mother persuaded her to go ahead with it. And her father supported the decision when he was informed of it. So, she prepared and sent over her petition of divorce to the British Courts. And until she learned of Barok’s response, all she could do was wait.

She told Kazuma about her decision (although didn’t tell him he was the main motivator or a motivator at all) and said that in all likelihood she’d have to go back to Britain one day to finalize things, assuming all went smoothly. If they didn’t go smoothly, she’d have to go sooner, even as soon as when he left for his own study tour for Britain (that he was accepted for). The news stunned him. He kept his emotions in check on the surface, but internally he was a mess. He had a chance at what he previously thought was impossible. But he had to keep his head. He couldn’t go rushing into attempts to woo her blindly. Until she was divorced from her husband, he had to be careful. But, he wanted to some way get a message to her about how he felt.

He had heard about Victorian flower language, and managed to ascertain Alice knew something about it, only a little, but something. And she had learned a little about Japanese flower language which had begun to emerge in the current era.

Perfect.

When she was due to celebrate receiving a special certification related to her Pathology studies, her put his plan into action. He gifted her a bouquet, something not everyone would recognize as significant, or at least not in the particular way that he meant it. He chose the flowers carefully, and made sure he could obtain the particular ones he had in mind to convey the meaning he wanted. It consisted of Gardenias, Chamomile, and three white dwarf sunflowers. It was meant to convey a message along the lines of “I’m confessing my love for you (three sunflowers), the love I’ve until now kept to myself as a secret (gardenias). And I’ll wait as long as I must for you (chamomile). I adore you utterly.(dwarf sunflower)”

Alice didn’t recognize the significance of the bouquet right away, but was struck by the fact Kazuma gave her flowers, especially when Ryunosuke mentioned off-handedly later that Kazuma had been curious about flower meanings as of late. She managed to ascertain the meaning of the flowers later and felt a torrent of emotions rip threw her. She decided to preserved some of the flowers, pressing them into the cover of her sketchbook that she used for scenery.

She also discreetly sent him a reply - Gardenias (secret love) and Irises (hope). They never entered into an illicit relationship, but they were honest about their feelings in what way they could be. And they were tightly devoted to and protective of each other.

Some months later, Alice received a reply from Britain. Her husband was contesting the divorce and her presence was required back in Britain as soon as possible. She had feared this would happen, but had emotionally braced for it. She would leave for Britain on the same ship as Kazuma. They promised to support one another in their endeavors, and to be by one another’s side. Alice was upset that Ryunosuke wouldn’t be joining them (as far as she knew. Kazuma didn’t tell her he was smuggling Ryunosuke with them for the same reasons he didn’t tell Susato in canon). But, at least she, Kazuma, and Susato would all be together.

Alice was anxious about seeing Barok again after all this time. What would he say to her when he saw her? What did he think about the fact she chose in the end to try and divorce him? Why was he still trying to hold onto her?

We arrive towards the start of the game, where Alice is in a western style restaurant with her father. She happens to see her two best friends (Kazuma and Ryunosuke) across the way from them and asks if she can go say hello to them. (Which her father’s is more than happy to accommodate.) She says hello before going back down to continue her meal with her father. She happens to see Dr. John H Watson is there as well with a classmate of hers, Jezaille Brett (who she doesn’t like very much. She’s a jerk and a snob in her opinion.). But she doesn’t think much of it.

All hell breaks loose when she hears the shot of a gun fired, and sees the waiter swoop in and grab Ryunosuke.

Eventually she sees Dr. Watson is dead, apparently shot, and now it’s being said that Ryunosuke is the suspected murderer. No, she thinks. This can’t be right. Her friend had no motive, and wasn’t a violent person in any way. What was going on here? (This leads to her being a witness in the tutorial case of the first game. But she’s held back from testifying at first because she doesn’t want to leave Jezaille Brett’s presence out of her testimony like Hosonaga instructed all the other witnesses to.)

She goes to Kazuma (who left the restaurant before this all went down) as soon as she’s able, and tells him the terrible news. Their mutual best friend has been arrested. And it seems like they’re setting him up for failure in court. Surely something can be done? Of course, it practically goes without saying that Kazuma will take up his friends case and try to defend Ryunosuke with everything he has.

And that is when the events of canon begin.

#ocs #tgaa oc #alice van zieks #tgaa #dai gyakuten saiban #barok van zieks #kazuma asogi #iris wilson #kazuma asogi/oc #barok van zieks/oc #do you know how many hours it took me to write this? too many.#i'm pretty sure i left some stuff out but i think i covered the basics.#also my language got a bit sloppy at the end i feel.#but this took FOREVEEEEEER #this isn't even getting into the stuff that happens during and post canon #this is literally just pre canon stuff #i'll probably make a post about that later #but for now *YEETS*

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a-chlolix-blog · 2 years

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Mao's Sunshine AU

Would like the @ of the person who sent me the ask for this one!

Alix is the wielder of the black cat miraculous and goes by Mao Noire.

Lila is the wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and goes by Stellina

With Stellina making things difficult for Mao Noire, Chloé's given the Rooster Miraculous and goes by Soleil Soie.

The characters are of college age (18-23) and are in college.

Chloé and Alix have known each other since they were seven and are college roommates.

But their dorm needed a third roommate. And that third roommate is... Sabrina! Who is also a childhood friend.

I wanna give her a Miraculous, just not sure which one yet.

Lila's two roommates are Marinette and Alya. The two sets of roomies' rooms are next door to each other.

Like in canon, Lila's known the main class since middle school, so they've had time to grow out of believing her lies.

Hawkmoth doesn't appear these young adults start college. Which is great for Fu, cause he doesn't actually have to give insanely powerful jewelry to young teenagers!

When Fu's giving out the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous, he puts the black cat on Alix's bed and goes next door to put the Ladybug on Marinette's bed.

But instead of Marinette finding the Miraculous, Lila sneaks into Marinette's room (trying to steal some of her make up) and finds the Ladybug Miraculous instead.

Alix is lucky enough (irony) to get to the black cat miraculous before anyone else.

One the duo's first day as heroines, Stellina takes credit for Mao Noire's ideas for protecting the people of Paris. Making herself seem like this incredibly smart and powerful heroine. Much to Mao Noire's (and Chloé's) dismay.

Lila tries to claim that she and Stellina are really close friends, no one believes due to all the lies she told in middle school.

Gabriel actually allows Adrien to go to college (he promised to move to London if he didn't).

He goes to the same college as the main gang and is roommates with Nino and Ivan.

Knowing that Stellina's smitten with Adrien, Gabriel would try to use events featuring his son the lure the heroine into a trap, much to said boy's dismay.

Since Adrien never went to middle school with the others, he's unaware of Lila's lies, but is still quite wary of her.

Alim and Jalil are aware of the Miraculous Jewelry. They also know that Alix is Mao Noire.

They have the Rabbit Miraculous, but it's broken and they're trying to fix it.

Chloé keeps in touch with André. Audrey, not so much.

Zoé is Chloé's younger sister who just started middle school. She's a big fan of Stellina, much to Chloé's dismay.

None of her family members know that she's Soleil Soie.

There are types of people in our main crew in certain groups.

Those who are fans of Stellina (until they find out she's awful): Sabrina, Alya, Nino, Mylène, Ivan, Kim, Rose, and Nathaniel

Those who were never fans of hers because they knew she was awful: Chloé, Alix, Marinette, Marc, Adrien, Juleka, Max, Luka, and Kagami

Now for the shipping!

Chloé had a crush on Alix in highschool.

Because she thought her love was unrequited, she never confessed.

When they were in high school, Chloé always told Adrien all about her crush on Alix, so he knew pretty much everything.

He brought it up to Alix when he saw her in college on his first day. Completely by accident cause he thought they were already together.

Chloé: Adrien, you remember Alix right?

Alix: Adrien! *hugs him tight* it's been awhile.

Adrien: You got taller!

Alix: So did you! I see you and Chloé are just as close.

Adrien: I bet you two are closer now too! I bet you were shocked to find out that Chloé's had a crush on you since high school.

Alix, surprised: She-WHAT?!

Chloé: DAMNIT ADRIEN! *waving her hands in front of Alix* Don't worry! It was just a small crush that has LONG since passed!

Alix: Oh... right.

What Chloé and Adrien didn't know was that Alix also had a crush on her since high school, but didn't act on it due to thinking she'd get rejected and their friendship would be ruined.

While the two did still have feelings for each other, they decided to keep these feelings secret and stay friends, much to Adrien and Mylène's disappointment.

When the superheroines come into play, it's a different situation.

After witnessing Stellina be the worst, Fu gives Chloé the Rooster Miraculous, which she uses to happily help and flirt with Mao Noire as Soleil Soie.

The two heroines don't know what it is about the other, but they're drawn to each other.

Mao Noire so happy to have Soleil Soie on the team, cause unlike Stellina, she's actually putting in the work.

Mao Noire often calls Soleil Soie "Sunshine", which always flusters the bird themed heroine.

Soleil Soie is noticeable taller than Mao Noire, so she's lovingly calls her "Kitten", which flusters the cat heroine from time to time.

The flirting's like second nature to them, much to Stellina's disgust.

Soleil Soie: How did I do, Kitten?

Mao Noire, kisses her hand: Amazing as always, Sunshine.

Soleil Soie, blushing: I wouldn't have done an amazing job if it wasn't for your plan, Kitten.

Stellina: *pretends to vomit* Are you done, sidekicks?!

Because they still have feelings for each other as civilians, they won't date as heroines neither..

So they're quite flirty with their respective civilian cutie as well. With at least one of their friends witnessing this.

Chloé, running into Mao Noire's arms: Mao Noire! What are you doing here? Is Stellina being the worst again?

Mao Noire, hugs Chloé: No, but I am here to warn you that she is on her way here to try to flirt with your friend Adrien.

Chloé: Such a protective little Mao-Mao. *kisses Mao Noire on each cheek*

Sabrina, confused: WHAT IS GOING ON?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alix, in Soleil Soie's arms: You know you don't have to carry me...

Soleil Soie, carrying Alix bridal style: I know, I just wanna make sure you're okay. Stellina's around after all.

Alix: *chuckles* Well then, thanks for looking out for me. *kisses Soleil Soie on the cheek*

Mylène: Did you two forget I was with you?!

While Adrien's trying to finally get Chloé and Alix together, Alya's dubbing Mao Noire and Soleil Soie Paris' "Super Power Couple".

Sabrina believes that Chloé and Mao Noire are dating because of how often the cat heroine ends up in their college dorm.

Mylène doesn't believe Alix when she says that she and Soleil Soie aren't a couple, after giving the heroine multiple kisses on the cheek.

Jalil often teases Alix about her crushes on Chloé and Soleil Soie. She often response to the teasing by punching him in the arm.

Whenever Stellina sees Mao Noire/Soleil Soie flirt with Chloé/Alix, she'd try to do the same with Adrien, but he rejects her every single time.

Tell me what you guys think!

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir #Mao's Sunshine AU #AUs #Kwami Swap #Chloé Bourgeois #Chloe Bourgeois #Alix Kubdel #Chloe x Alix #Chlolix #Aloé #Lila Rossi #Other Characters

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

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Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

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Birthday Event Req By @juminly :

So I was trying to request the following >.<: a NSFW Ushi drabble with f!reader. Ushi being triggered by jealousy or something that happened between f!reader and someone else? I initially wrote a few kinks and you could go ahead with whatever inspires you! [cockwarming, face-sitting, blowjob, mirror sex, bondage, dirty talk or anything else tbh... and soft!dom!ushi]

———————————

A/N: I’m glad we overcame the technical difficulties for you to eventually send this req. hope you like it babes. I still have 2 more reqs from the event that shouldn’t take too long, thanks for being patient!

(NSFW 18+)

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Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

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Sooooooooo

It’s canon that Ushi is a very calm and collected bf

Your friends love him 💕

Your pet loved him 💕

And your family loves him

Or that’s what Ushi always thought...... until tonight.

You and Toshi went to your parents house for an elegant middle aged people dinner party they were throwing with all their friends from the neighborhood

Ushijima wore a suit and everything 💜💜💜 you wore in a beautiful green dress and small heels to match him

CUTIES

The dinner party was great: 🎶 classy , bougie, ratchet extremely classy haha 💎

Until.......

your parent’s best friends’ son—Jeremy—happened to be home too.

Actually , he surprised everyone, crashing the party unexpectedly

And he brought gifts🤨.

Making a huge entrance that had everyone screaming in delight and hugging him, Ushijima couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way your family fawned over your childhood friend

Your parents can’t help but gush over Jeremy, because they’ve always wanted you to marry him and move with him to America to study cosmetic surgery

In high school you two dated a little, but then you realized it was all for the benefit of your parents and you agreed to break up but remained distant friends

You were good with that , as you thought it was a mutual decision

But it wasn’t. Jeremy truly had feelings for you and they hadn’t stopped just because he moved away and finished med school

“These are for you, Y/N.” Jeremy smoothly handed you a bouquet of your favourite type of flowers

You hadn’t the heart to tell him your favourite type had changed since high school :S

“And Wakatoshi-san, I didn’t know you would be here. Apologies.” He shook his hand.

Ushijima’s face was hard. “I don’t know why I would not be.....?” He answered with a slight eyebrow raise, squeezing Jeremy’s hand right back.

Hose down that fire Y/N

Anyway, even though your parents like Ushi a lot, it was pretty obvious to you AND your boyfriend that both them + Jeremy’s parents never gave up hope that you two would one day get back together

Not to mention They were as subtle as elephants in a library

They got the fucking photo album, showing everyone including Ushijima pictures of you and Jeremy bathing together as babies and kissing before prom

SMFH!

“Oh, you live in Beverly Hills, now?” Your mom’s eyes sparkled at Jeremy as he showed her pictures of his mansion on his phone. “Y/N looooves that part of Los Angeles, don’t you, honey?”

You noticed Ushijima stiffen. He was thinking about the love of his life, you, living in LA in Jeremy’s ugly mansion and it pissed this Ace off.

You nodded slowly, giving your mom a warning glance. “Sure, when I was 15.”

“Hey Jeremy, your father told me last weekend that you know of bunch of players on the LA Rams?”

Jeremy nodded proudly. “Yes sir. A lot of their wives and mothers are patients of mine, so the starting line up usually sends me Christmas cards with season passes and signed memorabilia so that I up their women on the waiting lists. Whenever you’re in America and you’d like to go see a game, just let me know.”

You rolled your eyes at how loud your father exclaimed in joy. “I keep telling you to call me YF/N!” He clapped. “And that’s a real sport right there. Football, Baseball, Soccer. Everything else is a joke to real men.” Your father finished.

“DAD!” You chastised, stomping your foot under the table.

“What—?”

You glowered are him. “In case you FORGOT.....Ushijima happens to be a professional volleyball player.”

Your dad had clearly forgotten, trying to blubber out an apology. Ushijima interrupted him, putting a hand on yours to settle his furious girlfriend.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I took no offence to it.” Ushi was used to other men not recognizing volleyball as a manly sport—he is very confident so that didn’t bother him. Rather, what stung was the fact that your father had never asked Toshi to call him by his first name before, and you two had been dating for three years.

To your dismay, Yours and Jeremys parents continued to say annoying shit like that all night

Jeremy loved it 🙄

You hated it, and defended your man at any chance you got

Ushijima stayed silent through it all, trying to calm you down actually.

Like I said he’s confident and not easily shaken

He only had had enough when the conversation changed to Jeremy’s explanation of liking his life and his career but it all never seeming good enough because of “the one that got away” and how “she seems happy in a relationship now” but “he would do anything to get her back”

Meanwhile he’s sneaking heartfelt glances at you 🤬🤬🤬🤢

Your mother and father were doting, looking at you and eachother as if to say “come onnnnn Y/N give him another chance”

Ushijima picked up on it all.

At one point during Jeremy’s explanation of ‘the one that got away’ you stuck your finger down your throat to make a gagging noise childishly

YOUR PARENTS WERE NOT HAPPY LMAO

anyway, at the end of the night you said bye to everyone..... and Jeremy asked to speak to you in private on the empty porch

Ushijima watched with a locked jaw by the car, leaning on it so he could stare openly

He was justly heated as he watched the conversation (but couldn’t hear anything) happening on the porch at night

He witnessed Jeremy write down what had to be his number and hold it in front of you for you to take

You hesitated, not sure if you should take it just to avoid causing more waves with both parents or to stomp on his foot

Luckily you didn’t need to do either because Ushijima had silently stormed over in a millisecond, whisking the paper from Jeremy’s hand, staring at his number written on the paper before crumbling it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t need it. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

Ushi grabbed your hand and walked you to the car angry af, you had to jog in your heels to keep up with him

This man was maaad and silent the whole way home, thinking about how everyone seems to be so sure that your ex could have given you a better life

He still held your hand the entire drive though, so clearly he wasn’t mad at you ❤️

He hated that everyone liked this Jeremy better all because he went down the conventional path to success:

Hadn’t Toshi paid for everything? Hadn’t Toshi massaged your feet? Hadn’t Toshi made you extremely happy? Hadn’t they seen how you were treated? Did you believe someone could do better?

Nonsense.

Toshi knew that he was the BEST boy and that no one could dare love you more or treat you better....... and you tended to agree

But Toshi needed to hear you say it.

He needed to feel it, too.

Upon arriving at yours & Toshi’s gorgeous modern home:

Toshi hurriedly closed the door

you hadn’t even fully taken off your heels yet when you felt your boyfriend pressed himself against you from behind, lifting your dress up and rubbing his long hard cock print on your pantied pussy lips as you bent over

You moaned and started to get wet immediately

“Take off the panties.” He ordered.

you did obviously 😭 almost tripped with how fast you did it

Horny bish lol

Your boyfriend then picked you up in his strong arms and walked a few steps into the foyer, placing you so your ass was sitting on the 7th marble stair. He knelt down in between your legs and spread them while you sat on the staircase

He squeezed your ass in his large hands and dove into your pussy with his lips then tongue, immediately skipping the gentle licks... and tongue fucking your entrance into oblivion

His tongue was wet, strong and needy and fuck you choked on your own cries

You threw your head back, already screaming Ushi’s name

“Mmm scream my name just like that. Let everyone hear who you belong to.” He paused tongue fucking you to order.

you shuddered as you felt his warm breath on your clit and Ushi expertly enclosed his mouth around your sopping cunt, French kissing your clit into his mouth and sucking on it like a tiny lollipop

You tugged on his hair and screamed his name louder, feeling your interior walls clench

Once your legs started shaking because you were about to fall over the edge, Ushi picked you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist

Toshi bent down quickly to empty his pockets which consisted of his keys, wallet, and his phone, placing it where you were just sitting when he was eating you out

Ushiwaka pressed your back against the wall beside the staircase.....

He held your entire body weight with one arm as he leaned in to kiss your neck, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off

When he was freed & nude, he asked you kindly if you were ready and once you nodded he put one of his feet on the sixth stair, the other on the fifth, then thrusted deep into your soaking heat

He wasted no time in pounding you into the wall, the slight pain of the hard wall and your boyfriend’s hard dick somehow heightening the pleasure factor

Ushijima took both of your wrists in his gigantic hand and locked them above your head as he gave you nice and deep thrusts the way you both like it

“So fucking wet. All because of me, correct? I’m the only one who makes your pussy drip like this.”

Your pussy answered:💧 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Your vaginal walls squeezed around his dick and you bit his shoulder because the pleasure disallowed you to speak and Ushi groaned out

“Say. This. Tight. Pussy. Is. Mine.” He grunted as he circled his hips a bit while pounding, his voice grave.

Toshi picked up the pace as your soaking wet walls clenched around him even more from his dirty talk.

“Say. Who. This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Beautiful.”

You were being fucked too well, you couldn’t speak, you could only moan ... like usual

But your boyfriend wasn’t having any of that tonight.

He let go of your captive wrists and held you with both hands again, stepping downstairs and stopping in front of the large mirror in your foyer, turning so that only you could see yourself poking over his large shoulder, along with your boyfriend’s fine juicy ass and back calf muscles 🤤

Ushi grabbed the back of your neck (not enough to hurt) but just enough so that your head was up and you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He began to fuck you again, getting nice and deep in your pussy as he made you bounce on his dick in his arms

“Are you seeing yourself?” He laughed sexily. “Getting dumb-fucked, Princess? Whose dick are you taking, Y/N?” Wakatoshi groaned as your pussy clenched around him even more. He could tell you were about to cum and that he wouldn’t be long after. But he needed to hear you say something first.

“Who is your first choice, Y/N? Who fucks you like this every night? Who’s dick can you never get enough of? Me? Or Him?”

In your stupor, you watched yourself in the mirror: Toshi’s delectable ass flexing as he pushed in and out of you, feeling his strong hand gripping your neck. You weren’t a big talker during sex and bae knew that, but the amazing feeling of this angry jealous sex was too much, his big dick felt too fucking good..... and one particularly hard thrust from him that grazed your g-spot in the besssst way gave you the energy to cry out;

“YOU, TOSH. FUCK THAT JEREMY, HE COULD NEVER FUCK ME LIKE YOU DO. OR TAKE CARE OF ME LIKE YOU DO. I DON’T WANT OR NEED ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU. YOU’RE THE BEST BOY WITH THE BEST DICK. NO ONE CAN EVEN C-COME CLOSE TO YOU. YOU —OH, OH, OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA—“

Wakatoshi let go of your neck, landing soft kisses on your neck while he returned to gripping your ass with both hands now, sliding you up and down his long, hard, soaking wet dick from your juices.

It felt so fucking good 😩

“That’s right princess. I’ve heard enough, baby. I knew it: I just needed to hear you say it. Now cum for me.”

when you did, you made sure to scream out all the praises you always told toshi when you weren’t getting fucked, making him feel like a King, reassuring him that your mind, body, and soul belonged to him and NO ONE else.

Wakatoshi found his release soon after from your pussy but also from your words, shooting his thick cum up inside you for you to take as he caressed your back and whispered how much he loved you in your ear.

Then, as you laid limp in his arms, he left his cock to stay warm inside you and went back to the stairs, fully prepared to go head up and bathe you, then put you to bed.

But as he passed the sixth step, though, Toshi bent down to pick up his keys, wallet and phone that he’d set there.

As you fell asleep on his shoulder, Ushi grinned at his phone screen, pressing send to the voicemail message he’d just recorded.

Whoops 😏 must have accidentally butt-dialed someone before fucking you and left a long message by accident

😕ohno😕

With a photographic memory, it wasn’t difficult for the Ace to remember such a plastic surgeon’s phone number when Ushi saw it on the note.....

And Toshi could explain to you how sorry he was that he’d accidentally dialed it before railing you to sleep on the stairs and in the foyer

But truth be told, your boyfriend’s only real regret would be not being able to see the look on Jeremy’s face when he listened to it on his flight back home.

Bday Event Masterlist

#aone and ushijima birthday event #ushijima smut #wakatoshi smut #ushiwaka x reader #ushiwaka x y/n #ushiwaka x you #haikyuu boys #haikyuu!!#sexy hq boys #haikyuu stories #hq headcanons #haikyu headcannons #haikyuu imagines #hq sexy stories

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Captain Fray: The Trash Superman

Look up in the sky! Is it a bird? A plane? No, it’s... an ugly, homeless bald man cackling evily while raining trash on the city with an army of sludge monsters, shortly before getting beaten up by a group of meddling kids. It’s just dumb old Captain Fray again getting foiled by Monica’s Gang, nevermind him. He does that every Tuesday.

Monica’s Gang are arguably the most iconic of all Brazilian comic book characters, having maintained popularity for 60 years and with unmatched worldwide recognition. They’ve had cartoons, a cinematic universe of films both cartoon and live-action, plays, a long-running manga spin-off that turned them into teenagers, crossovers everywhere ranging from The Big Two’s superheroes to Osamu Tezuka’s properties (as Monica’s creator Mauricio and Tezuka were acquaintances), at least one theme park, and much, much more. Even past Brazil’s borders, where they are a cultural institution on a scale matched only by Disney, these are some of the world’s most popular characters, starring in just about any kind of adventure imaginable and then some.

However, if you go into the world of Monica’s Gang, and look for a flying man with a chest logo, a cape and impossible superpowers, you’ll instead find their greatest arch-enemy: Captain Fray (actual name Capitão Feio, which translates to Captain Ugly), real name Feioso Araújo. Who will be happy to remind you time and time again of what a rotten, no-good scoundrel he is, even if he has to pick a fight with the Big Blue himself to prove it.

So let’s talk about perhaps the most iconic “caped superhero” of Brazilian comic books, even if he’s ultimately a long, long shot from being one.

Despite the long, worldwide spanning history of the superhero, the idea of the superhero as a cape-wearing uniformed superpowered do-gooder has remained a largely American concept, as different regions have their own unique icons. The titular 4 members of Monica’s Gang have on many occasions taken the role of superheroes, and they’ve built up a massive Rogues Gallery over decades, despite not looking like the usual idea of a superhero. Monica, Jimmy Five, Smudge and Maggy, for the most part, look and act like kids, with odd quirks.

To briefly describe the 4: Monica is the pudgy, bucktoothed ruler of the group as well as the neighborhood, being super strong and more than willing to hit people who mock her with her stuffed rabbit “Samson”. Jimmy Five has a speech impediment, and he constantly schemes to take Monica’s role as leader, best described at times as a junior Lex Luthor to Monica’s Superman. Maggy is Monica’s friend with an uncontrollable appetite, and the witty and perpetually dirty Smudge is Jimmy Five’s friend and accomplice in schemes. Smudge is defined by his complete and total refusal to take a bath or even come into contact with water under any circumstances, and some stories play up Smudge’s dirtyness to the point of superpower.

It’s Smudge in particular who’s gonna be relevant to this post, because the first time Captain Fray was introduced, he was introduced as Smudge’s good-natured and humorous uncle, a comic book addict surrounded by piles of dusty comics, particularly those of Smudge’s favorite superhero, Captain Pitoco, a sort of Superman/Buzz Lightyear analogue. Eventually, Smudge’s uncle is surrounded by dust, and out of it, he transforms “back” into a former alter-ego, Captain Fray, a megalomaniac supervillain horrified at just how clean the world is, and who decides to sully it as much as possible, flying around the city spreading dirt rays and even transforming the population into pollution-fanatics. Eventually he’s defeated and transformed back into normal, only thinking he had a weird dream.

Upon subsequent appearences, Fray would acquire things like sludge minions, underground lairs and ever increasing powers (like in the above sequence where he somehow destroys a rainbow and darkens the sky with a single gesture), although he would eventually gain a Kryptonite-esque weakness to water. Captain Fray would go on to become the most reocurring villain of Monica’s Gang for the next 40 years, as the former concept of him being Smudge’s uncle was dropped and he became instead the ruler of an underground race of sludge monsters created by him, who’d occasionally come on to the surface in order to engage in supervillain plots to take over the world and spread dirt and pollution everywhere, sometimes in stories with an environmental angle, and often when the story calls for superhero antics.

Fray’s got a very standard Grinch/Captain Hook cartoon villain personality, all cackles and snarls and shaking fists at the meddling kids who ruin his plans everytime, proud of being evil and rotten, but never too rotten to the point he betrays the kid-friendly nature of the stories he’s in, nor too rotten that he can’t do something nice for a change like allow his monsters to celebrate Christmas even if it ruins his bad guy image, or begrudingly do a nice thing for Smudge.

Although for the most part, the “mainline” comics have dropped the angle of Fray being Smudge’s uncle, the two having a particular dynamic has stayed consistent still. Sometimes, Smudge is portrayed as the only member of the Gang who’s got little to no problem with Fray, even welcoming the change of scenery he brings, although he will stick with his friends, as often he’s the only one who’s got no problem being hit by Fray’s dirt rays. While sometimes Fray singles out destroying Smudge so his claim as the dirtiest being in the universe can never be challenged, he is more often depicted as having a soft spot for Smudge, sometimes considering him a pupil or potential successor to inherit his powers, and plenty of times, Smudge has done just that, although inevitably it never sticks, partially because Fray gets jealous or misses his former life, and partially because Smudge gets bored of supervillainy and just wants to go play with his friends again.

The dynamic between Smudge and Fray has led to a lot of adventures between the two, and it’s something that’s been played up in the aforementioned manga spin-off, Monica Adventures. In it, the cast’s all been aged up to teenagers, and the adventures they get into respectively have taken much more of a shonen manga edge, much darker and weirder than anything the original kid comics could get away with, although not necessarily to it’s benefit, because I could not begin to describe just how much grimdark nonsense is in those, let’s just call it the Monica’s Gang equivalent of Jorge Joestar in terms of lunacy and leave it at that (although, to be clear, even the original “mainline” comics could get very, very weird themselves). Captain Fray has been a mainstay of said manga from the start, going through a series of redesigns, including one where he turns into a bootleg Sephiroth, and one where he tries rebranding himself into a suit-wearing gangster named “Black Dust”, which nobody really takes seriously.

It’s also granted Fray a backstory: As a kid, when he’d gone to the basement to read comics, his house was buried in a landslide. Afraid of death, he was met with a milipede claiming to serve “The Serpent” (the in-universe stand in for the devil, maybe, just bear with me here), claiming it would protec him so long as it returned the favor someday. He was afterwards transferred to an orphanage, teased by kids over his lack of hygiene and liking for superheroes and nicknamed “Captain Ugly” (again, his name, Fray is just the English translation), with rumors that his touch granted disease. After the orphanage closes, he’s adopted by a nurse and gains a step-brother in Smudge’s dad.

Years down the line, and Feioso’s managed to acquire a house and make a decent living. He spends a lot of time with his nephew Smudge, teaching him how to build toys out of garbage (a habit of Smudge in the strips) and fly kites and so on. Until one day, in an update of his original story, he’s cleaning his house packed with dusty comics, and a shelf falls atop of him. The millipede from his childhood appears to recollect the debt:

"Your mission is to pollude the Earth...rot it's soil...change it's atmosphere...darken the skies with smoke...so that the sun's rays may never again hit the surface of this planet!

"No! No, please! I-I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"You think you can refuse? You think you have a choice? Do you think you can escape your destiny? Evil does not tolerate weak servants. If you don't fill your end of the bargain, if you don't pay your debt...it will be transferred to the person you love most."

"Smudge? NO!! H-How do you know about my nephew?"

"We know of all that happens. Our eyes...are everywhere."

"Smudge has nothing to do with this. Leave him alone, please...I-I'll do anything you guys want!"

"So be it...Filthy powers will corrode your soul...This is the day of your rebirth! How would you like to be rebaptized?

"The nickname I was given at the orphanage...it's perfect! Captain Ugly strikes again!"

How “canon” the events of Monica Adventures are is a question best left unspoken, since it ultimately doesn’t change anything about the original strips. But regardless of what made Fray who he is, he would spend the following decades in many, many attempts to complete his mission and defeat Monica’s Gang, to be foiled and stopped time and time again by his nephew and his friends, little more than a dumb, cartoon villain there to be smacked again and again, too dumb to quit and too mean to stop. So he was, and so he will always be.

But something interesting’s happened recently with him. As part of the Graphic MSP initiative that’s allowed creators to reinvent the many, many characters of Monica’s Gang for stand-alone graphic novels, Captain Fray’s received one in the form of Capitão Feio: Identidade, which isn’t so much an origin story as it tells the story of a homeless man with no knowledge of his past or where he acquired the superpowers that force him to be on the constant run from society, and it tells the story of how said man eventually became the infamous supervillain, despite his many attempts to be a superhero.

The comic and it’s sequel, Tormenta, acted more of a proof of concept to test whether or not a serious reimagining of Captain Fray can work, and considering their reception and the newfound love that the Captain seems to have attained in recent years, I’d say they succedeed pretty damn well. He’s ostracized for his appearence, poverty, smell and bad manners, and there’s hardly anything he can do about it because his powers make him a toxic abomination by default. He spends portions of the book trying to create living beings with his powers, and once he succeeds in creating a Godzilla-esque monster to protect him from the authorities, he ends up having to put the monster down, before getting fed up with constant rejection and promptly announcing that, if he’s just gonna be known as an ugly monster by the people, even after he saves them, he’s gonna make it a point to be Captain Ugly Monster, the most rotten supervillain they’ve ever seen.

The comic constantly grants upon Frey iconography of several of the biggest icons of comic books, from Batman and Superman to AKIRA, playing up not just Frey’s association with comic books but also the fact that he's been mired in that aesthetic from day one. He wanted to be a hero, he wanted to be like Captain Pitoco, and regardless of continuity, all that he ends up as is becoming a gross caricature of a superhero. And still, Frey owns it. He owns his grossness, his rage, his bitterness at everything that he understands to be the opposite of himself, everything clean and good and decent, and he tries time and time again to tear it down, even if he ultimately can never get far enough to accomplish his goals, or lose all of his humanity in the process.

I’ve remarked once that, to many in some regions of South America, the “traditional” superhero does not hold much appeal, and most of the more popular protagonists and icons tend to be outlaws far away from caped antics. Which is why it’s particularly interesting that, not only is the most famous caped superman of Brazilian comic books a villain, but also that, perhaps unintentionally, Fray has undergone the kind of development that most reocurring cartoon villains never get, and one that seems almost poised to last. In a current zeitgest of villain protagonists, it’s successes and failures, I could very easily see Captain Fray becoming the star of a popular film or series, one that takes a look not just at his personality and role, but also at Brazilian culture’s relationship with superheroes and supervillains. Maybe Fray as an anti-hero, trying to make the best of the horrendous powers he’s burdened with, could work.

So long as it’s not revealed that he likes dirt because his mom got pushed off a cliff by cleaning products, I could see it working very well.

#character profiles #comic books #captain fray #capitão feio #turma da monica #mauricio de souza #brazilian superheroes #brazilian supervillains #superman #monica's gang

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decennia · 3 years

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i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

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desiredmalfoy · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling.

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong.

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley.

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others.

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school.

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n).

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll.

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist.

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her.

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight.

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms.

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her.

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend. But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near.

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing.

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying.

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this.

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry.

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George? “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them.

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden.

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden.

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. .

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do.

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days.

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand.

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence.

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide.

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it.

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her.

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks.

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket.

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours.

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.”

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter.

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way. She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination.

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him.

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently.

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner.

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you.

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her.

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy

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malghra · 3 years

Text

a chorus so sublime: chapter 1

I must admit, I can't explain

Any of these thoughts racin' through my brain

It's true

But, baby, I'm howlin' for you

Alright

There's something wrong with this plot

The actors here have not got

A clue

Baby, I'm howlin' for you

For Darklina Week, Day 1, Songs & Lyrics, Title from Breath of Life by Florence + The Machine

Chapter title and lyrics from Howlin' for you by The Black Keys.

This fic starts in episode 5, so you can assume that the story is mostly canon compliant up until episode 4. Any changes pre-episode 5 that will be referenced in the story will probably concern Mal. I lowkey ship show!Malina, they're very cute, but then again I lowkey ship almost everyone with everyone on this show 😂 Darklina is just the only ship compelling enough to tempt me into writing. Anyways, I'm probably going to write Mal closer to his book counterpart, just because I feel the relationship needed a bit more conflict and it will add to Alina's inner struggles.

For now, what you need to know about Mal is that he did sleep with Zoya and that he didn't react well to the revelation of Alina's powers. Just remember that for future reference.

What else? Alina is going to leave the Little Palace at some point, and after that, events will unfold similarly to what happened on the show from episode 6 onwards, but I wanted to develop the Darklina relationship a bit more before it all falls to pieces and I try to come up with a way to put those pieces back together.

The first chapter is Aleksander's POV of his and Alina's first kiss.

I spent a bit of time debating what Aleksander should call himself in his POVs. I honestly couldn't see him referring to himself as the Darkling. I also decided that in the universe of this fic, he hasn't told Alina his real name yet. I imagine that at the beginning of this story, he mostly identifies with his title, and not with his true name, so for now, he'll be referring to himself as The General.

Chapter is below the cut, I hope you'll enjoy this!

The day of the winter fete had arrived, and the General had been up since before sunrise. Despite his mixed feelings regarding such events—especially ones such as today when his Grisha were expected to perform like a troup of otkazat'sya clowns, there was a tinge of excitement to his disgruntled thoughts.

Today was the day Ravka and the rest of the world would learn what the Sun Summoner could do. She still had a lot to learn, she still needed time to grow, but she could give them a good show. Their audience of royals, nobles and foreign dignitaries would be easily enough beguiled by the light spectacle they had practiced.

It was a new start, a day of hope and promise, but that wasn't the reason he had risen before dawn. Sleep tended to elude the General for long bouts of time every couple of years. It didn't matter though. He didn't need much of it anyway, but it was an easy way to pass time when he got bored or tired of life.

Fortunately for him, that was not the case right now. These were exciting times. He had never been closer to achieving everything he'd been working for during the last couple of centuries.

He finished his cup of tea, and as he passed the mirror, he reached up to close the top button of his shirt he must have missed earlier.

He heard the soft padding of footsteps in the other room. It was almost time.

"Ivan!" he called out. "My kefta."

As he turned away from the bed, he found himself eye to eye, not with his loyal Heartrender, but with his Sun Summoner.

"You're not Ivan," he blurted out, taken aback by her sudden and unexpected presence in his bedroom.

"Sorry to disappoint," she retorted sardonically. Saints! Why was she always saying or doing the unexpected thing, usually displaying an utter lack of the deference he was so used to being treated with by everyone else around him? And why did that make him want to smile instead of chiding her and reminding her of decorum and etiquette?

"Do I sense a little disdain for my Heartrender?" he asked, mostly to distract himself from his train of thought. "You know, once you get to know him he's actually quite funny."

Ivan Krasimirov tended to have little patience with people and he didn't care much for pointless social interactions, but the General had known him since he was a boy and he liked to imagine he knew the reserved Heartrender better than anyone else. And Ivan was a loyal man, who understood the cause and had display unseen measures of dedication.

"I bet you find volcra hilarious," his Sun Summoner huffed.

Her innocently intended quip stung, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, but he managed a wry smile. It was rather hilarious after all, perhaps even more so if one knew.

"May I?" she asked. For the first time since she'd entered, he noticed that she was holding his kefta.

"Thank you." His arms felt oddly stiff as he turned around and reached back so she could help him into the garment.

"I hear you were able to focus and split light without the gloves," he told her. She had shown tremendous progress in the last couple of days, but it was better to be prepared. He'd ordered Kostyk to make the gloves weeks ago, just in case.

"I appreciate the gesture, though."

"Well, they were only a safeguard, really," he assured her. "In case of nerves." She was standing closer than he'd expected when he turned to face her again.

"I imagine there are few gatherings in Keramzin that involve such..." He found himself looking for a word that wouldn't sound as an insult to the humble childhood she still seemed to be clinging to so stubbornly. That stubbornness had its charm at times, but in this case he couldn't really appreciate it. "Spectacle," he decided.

"None, in fact," she answered with that some sarcastic aplomb from earlier, and then she whirled around and darted away from him.

Frowning, but intrigued, he followed her out of his bedroom.

Despite her sudden jitteriness, she confessed that she wasn't nervous anymore, though she had considered throwing herself down the stairs to get out of it. Almost certain that this was just her odd sense of humour, he reminded her that he had healers.

He tried not to smile as she laughed at his retort. He studied her as she stood with her back to him, wondering at her suddenly anxious demeanour and the tension he could feel rolling off her body.

He sat down on the edge of the table, listening as she explained why she wasn't nervous anymore. Confusing, unfamiliar warmth pooled in his chest as she spoke but he tried to ignore it.

"That we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope for the future," she concluded her little speech. She was so close to where he wanted her. He almost had her. He knew he would be able to make her see reason. What she was sharing with him, the fact that she was sharing it with him at all, it all made him hopeful.

Triumph made his chest swell, and his power hummed just below the surface of his skin, ready to surge, to call out, but he wouldn't show her the immense satisfaction that overtook him in this moment. He settled for a heartfelt, "That means a lot to me, Alina," turning her name into a soft caress.

She turned around, half surprised, half... proud, he decided, satisfied that she had pleased him. He could take it a step further.

"You mean a lot," to me, he meant to say. It should be easy to feed her the lie that had come to carry more truth in it than he cared to admit. He needed her, but that should be the end of it. Hadn't he taught himself to stop wanting a long time ago?

She'd lowered her eyes, making it even easier for him, but he found himself incapable of saying the words. "To everyone," he concluded.

She blinked and met his gaze again. Before he could even try to decipher the look on her face, she had closed the distance between them, her hand on his collar.

Some deeply ingrained instinct almost made him recoil. He wasn't used to this. It had been a long time since anyone dared to approach him in such a way.

And then that pull was drawing him in again, that tug he had felt from the first moment he had laid eyes on her, that he had dismissed until he had touched her arm and knew, even before cutting her skin. The confusion and discomfort that always came with it must be clear on his face, but if she had seen them, she must have decided to ignore them.

Then she surprised him by kissing him, softly and tentatively, tender fingertips gently grazing his beard. He couldn't remember when he had last been kissed like that.

He had expected that sense of elation so akin to the triumph and satisfaction he'd felt earlier. He should have predicted the ringing in his ears, the thumping of his heart, the tingle running through his veins as her power called to his, begging to answer her call, as overwhelming as it was.

But the urge to respond to her kiss, the desire to surrender, the sudden, vast fear that gripped him, they all took him by surprise.

Something that had laid dormant for ages bubbled up from a place deep inside of him, frustratingly elusive and only vaguely familiar. It slipped away from him like water he tried to cup in his hands before he could recognize it.

He might have started kissing her back—he was too stunned to tell—but then her lips left his, and she nudged his nose with hers as she pulled away. His eyes flew open at the sudden loss of contact. He couldn't remember closing them.

She was searching his face, colour high on her cheeks. As he rose to his full height, he could see that sliver of doubt growing, that fear of rejection creeping up on her, even as hope sparkled in her eyes, her lips curling into a cautious smile.

He offered her a smile back, let the surprise he didn't need to feign show on his face.

"Not many people surprise me, Miss Starkova," he told her.

Her face lit up, and he followed her example as she lowered her eyes, allowing himself a pleased grin. He started leaning in to initiate a second kiss.

The door was pushed open and Alina jumped back, turning her back to him.

He cleared his throat, pushing his shoulders back to compose himself.

For the briefest moment, Ivan's eyes flitted from him to Alina, but he hid his reaction well.

"Excuse me, General," he apologized. "Your presence is required at the fete."

"Of course. Thank you, Ivan."

He glanced back to find Alina's cheeks flushed and her eyes on her feet.

"Miss Starkova," he said coolly, and she bit her lip.

"Next time, knock before you enter my chambers," he snapped at the Heartrender on his way out the door.

"Apologies, moi soverenyi," he mumbled.

The General dismissed the man with a nod. He should be thanking Ivan. He had almost acted on impulse, like some common fool. So then why was he clenching his fists to keep from strangling his most loyal Heartrender?

#darklina #alina x the darkling #alina starkov x aleksander morozova #darklinadaily #darklinaweek2021 #darklina fic #a chorus so sublime #chapter 1

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