#(also genuinely do not remember who made my regency stays)

[marzipanandminutiae]

"and they were RedThreaded" "oh my god they were RedThreaded..."

guess whose corsets were all in her dresser when her house caught fire

guess whose dresser was firmly swollen shut from water damage when she went back into her burned-out apartment to retrieve her things

guess who really misses owning at least one corset

#personal #fireblogging #historical costuming #god corsets are so comfortable (To Me And Not To Everyone Always Now Or In History; Do Not Cancel Me) #one of them was a custom that the corsetiere fitted herself at the trunk show RT had here years back #(I got so much use out of them that the investment made sense #(also genuinely do not remember who made my regency stays) #(but. three corsets lost. two RT. one of those custom-fitted) #(Marzi Is Sad)

[effei-s]

What shatter-me Warner would do.

The fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

Here’s the thing: Warner from original trilogy had character arch. More important: he was a character.

He was mean, villainous, cold, cruel murderer, with daddy who basically bought him regency (like come on, if it wasn’t for Anderson no one would even think about giving him that position; n for nepotism), but he also was deeply traumatized and abused his whole life and had little to none normal human interactions. I loved that fact that the only good thing he did (killing Fletcher because he was abusing his family) resolved into a complete catastrophe (Anderson killing children and wife) because Warner didn’t think it through. He tried to do the right thing and failed miserably, because he was more concerned with making a spectacle for Juliette. And after that he still had the audacity to paint himself as a hero who saved poor family from terrible tyrant in Ignite me.

I didn’t expect him to act and think like a human being. He didn’t need to act like a normal human. Warner gas lighting Juliette in the first third of ignite me is Warner’s thing to do. Him yelling and throwing tantrums and making scenes in Unravel me is Warner’s thing to do. Him forcing Juliette to do things she doesn’t want and traumatizing her in the process in Shatter me is Warner’s thing to do. Him wanting to torture Adam to death is Warner’s thing to want.

There’s a few reasons for this:

a) he doesn’t know how to communicate with people other than giving them orders or making threats;

b) he truly believes that he’s in the right here (he doesn’t see himself as a bad guy in Juliette story, more like a knight on a white horse);

c) he’s physically unable to be honest with himself and always has someone to blame for his own mistakes and failures;

d) he’s ‘results justify the means’ kind of guy.

Changes for good, with trauma that deep, when you basically don’t have a moral compass, don’t happen over night.

Was his ignite-me arch made sloppy? Yes. Everything was too info-dumpy and too convenient (Juliette forgetting that Warner was going to torture Adam to death; Juliette feeling that she’s the one who needs to apologize; Leila’s entire character used only for a sob story; Adam turned into a douchebag so Warner would look a more suitable love interest, etc). But it still was an arch. And the finale of ignite me was so open I really could imagine that, little by little, in the future, he will start to trust people more and really gonna help Juliette and co to make the world a better place. And his redemption arch wasn’t finished in the slightest, and I would even say that it was only the beginning of it, but it was implied that things will get better from there (the most important part of that being him genuinely wanting to make things right with Adam and James; he’s the one who makes the first step and initiate the bond).

So what went wrong in new three books? Ehm… everything, to be honest. Instead of developing a character that was already there, she decided to give him a new personality. Actually it can be said about every single one of characters, but Warner just happened to be the biggest victim of them all.

Let’s look at Restore me.

Okay, we have his pov, and I never thought I would say it but… Warner is kinda dumb. He’s supposed to be this military strategy genius, someone who knows how RE works from within and… it turns out that he just as clueless as Juliette. More than this, we never actually see him do ANYTHING except fucking Juliette. And for some reasons he never helps Juliette with her work??? There’s so much paperwork and instead of helping her to sort though it he’s… just not there???

Those stupid long monologues about how she’s capable to do anything mean nothing if he doesn’t actually help (as we can see at the end of restore me, when Juliette gets captured).

That fact that he doesn’t immediately check if Castle’s words are true? And instead of helping Juliette with Haider (telling everything he knows about him and his family, preparing her for the dinner) he fucks her??? This is a dumb bitch shit. And maybe you didn’t noticed but Shatter-me Warner wasn’t a dumb bitch.

After all, there’s a simple reason I never wanted the job of supreme commander myself—

I never wanted the responsibility.

It’s a tremendous amount of work with far less freedom than one might expect; worse, it’s a position that requires a great deal of people skills. The kind of people skills that include both killing and charming a person at a moment’s notice. Two things I detest.

Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted power because power meant that he could have control over his life? Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted to work with Juliette as a team to change the world? Yeah that’s him now.

No personal ambitions allowed when you’re a walking dildo, I guess.

Off the topic, but Mafi really enjoys making Juliette stupid as fuck:

“Oh, yes, of course,” she says, remembering. “I’ve gotten a bunch of letters about that. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

Let's continue.

Hurting Haider would be enough to start a world war.

Warner says and then Juliette threatens Haider, a foreign official on a diplomatic mission, and instead of being even a little bit worried and think about possible consequences, Warner thinks this:

But I can only smile at her. I want to scoop her up and carry her away. Take her somewhere quiet and lose myself in her.

Okay, I guess it’s official, there’s sperm inside of his head instead of brain cells. I can’t find any other explanation for this clownery.

Shatter-me Warner would… Shatter-me Warner won’t be in this situation in the first place.

Someone tries to kill Juliette and Warner does… nothing about it. He never goes to check the body of the assassin himself. He thinks that Nazeera hides something and he still allows her to go around and doesn’t even interrogate her when Juliette says that Nazeera was there at the moment of the attack. He doesn’t find it even a little bit suspicious? That guy who had tremendous trust issues in the original trilogy? Remember him? Yeah, that guy. Shatter-me Warner would lock Nazeera and Haider up and demanded answers. Shatter-me Warner would be angry as fuck, and would try to kill Kenji with his bare hands, because Kenji was stupid enough to leave Juliette alone. Shatter-me Warner wouldn’t stop until he had answers (and the head of a person who wanted to kill Juliette on a plate).

New Warner is too busy feeling sorry for himself to actually do anything about it. And after one chapter it’s completely forgotten, like that fact that someone tried to kill her is not important at all.

And then Castle enters the picture with his stupid and sloppy info-dumping (I guess Mafi never heard of ‘show don’t tell’ rule). And says this:

“She can’t lead this resistance,” he says, squinting at something in the distance. “She’s too young. Too inexperienced. Too angry. You know that, don’t you?”

and if that wasn’t enough he also says this:

“It should’ve been you,” Castle says. “I always secretly hoped—from the day you showed up at Omega Point—that it would’ve been you. That you would join us. And lead us.” He shakes his head. “You were born for this. You would’ve managed it all beautifully.”

AND HE’S STILL ALIVE AFTER?

This is a fucking treason right there. And Warner A-OKAY with this.

Shatter-me Warner would strangle him right there. Or better yet, he would go along with this until he has 100% evidences of Castle’s betrayal and then he would kill him. Or he would kill him simply because Castle was withholding important information and earlier in books he put Juliette in a great danger by sending her to Anderson without telling her the truth (unravel me).

But not this Warner. New Warner is far more concerned with fucking Juliette then helping her or looking for a way out of this situation (because now he has dick instead of a brain).

After my father’s revelation, my thirst for information became suddenly insatiable. I needed to know more—who these people were, where they’d come from, how much we’d known—

WHERE AND WHEN DID WARNER IN PREVIOUS BOOKS DISPLAY THIS?

When I say that Mafi simply forgot her own characters this is what I mean. Warner from original trilogy didn’t give a flying fuck about them. He thought that they were weak and stupid.

I will lose her.

And it will kill me.

He said this shit and after he nearly had a panic attack because he imagined her dating someone else? Oh, come on, how more pathetic can he get?

There are words for this kind of behavior: toxic codependency.

Oh wait wait! I know! This is not Warner! This is Edward Cullen disguised as Warner! The mystery is solved!

Oh, he fucks her again. Apparently it’s the only thing he’s good at. What a character! The layers! The complexity!

And then Lena came into the picture.

Until that moment I was more or less okay with Warner. Yes, I was very confused, but I was ready to give Mafi benefit of the doubt. He lost his father and was dealing with grieve. We all can act out of character in the face of a tragedy or drastic changes.

“Why do you keep pressing this? Who cares if I’ve been with other women? They meant nothing to me—”

And there I felt in my guts, I’m not gonna like what next to come.

Haider was exhibiting suicidal tendencies. Self-harming. And I got really scared. I called Warner because I knew Haider would listen to him.” She shakes her head. “Warner didn’t say a word. He just got on a plane. And he stayed with us for a couple of weeks. I don’t know what he said to Haider,” she says. “I don’t know what he did or how he got him through it, but”—she looks off into the distance, shrugs—“it’s hard to forget something like that.

Oh, so Warner's words about how he never had any real interactions with anyone before Juliette were bullshit. About how he doesn’t understand people were also bullshit. About how Juliette was the first person who was not afraid to speak with him freely were also bullshit. Because all of the sudden he can help someone heavily depressed. Someone with suicide tendencies? Someone who harms himself? And now he has an ex-girlfriend who’s ready to beat the fuck out of him and calls him mean words (she clearly doesn’t fear him)?

Now his entire character in the first trilogy doesn’t make any sense. And his excuses don’t make any sense.

Bravo, Mafi! Bravo! This was the fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

She says that Lena was in love with him—really in love with him—but that Warner broke her heart, that he never treated her with any real affection and she’s hated him for it.

Oh, so he’s not only stupid and absolutely useless, he’s a fuckboy. And if there’s one thing I HATE, it’s fuckboys.

There’s a big-big-big difference between someone who has one-night-stands and THIS SHIT:

“You’re upset, I understand. But it’s not my fault you feel this way. I don’t love you. I never have. And I never led you to believe I did.”

“She and I,” he says, “it was—we were nothing. It was a relationship of convenience and basic companionship. It meant nothing to me. Truly,” he says, “you have to know—if I never said anything about her it was only because I never thought about her long enough to even consider mentioning it.”

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t two years of anything serious. It wasn’t even two years of continuous communication.” He sighs. “She lives in Europe, love. We saw each other briefly and infrequently. It was purely physical. It wasn’t a real relationship—”

So he despised her but used her for sex? WOW. Cool. He can go and trip over a fucking knife or fall out of the window for all I care.

“Everything in my life was different before I met you,” he says. “I was lost and all alone. I never cared for anyone. I never wanted to get close to anyone. I’ve never—you were the first person to ever—”

And how exactly he was able to help Haider with his self-harm then??? If he didn’t CaRe for anyone before Juliette?

This was the moment when Warner from original trilogy died in agony.

Okay, let’s see real quick what we have in Defy Me:

He thinks about escape but never really does anything to escape;

(anderson is the one who opens his cell;

he stands in front of a guy who murdered his mother and doesn’t even think about her, yeah I can see how important she was for him;

/again, shatter-me Warner would probably demanded answers, but not walking dildo, walking dildo cares only about Juliette. his excuse in ignite me 'i did it all for my mom' doesn't make any sense now, because he actually doesn't give a flying fuck about her/

he gets captures one minute after he “kills” Anderson;

nazeera is the one who gets him out of there;

super soldier taught his whole life how to survive, everyone. useless as fuck)

He doesn’t know anything about jewelry.

(super ooc, i know what Mafi was trying to do here: she tried ‘sherlock holmes doesn’t know that earth revolves around the sun’ thing Arthur Conan Doyle did, but the problem is WARNER IS A FASHIONISTA, or he was).

He wants to get married because…???

He sees a woman who tried to kill Juliette and he’s a-okay with staying at her place, because she said that it was actually a message (???).

Castle is still alive.

Nazeera who knew all this time about Anderson and was working for him is also alive and well.

Oh and he doesn’t care about Anderson being alive and being a real threat to Juliette (fucking her is more important for him, as usual).

His complete disregard for Juliette’s safety only makes me hate him more with every new book.

Imagine me.

First and foremost: don’t call imagine-me Warner shatter-me Warner. Don’t insult shatter-me Warner like that. With shatter-me Warner Anderson would have to try very hard to get to Juliette. It would be ‘Warner made 100 back-up plans, but Anderson knew him too well and created 101 plan and that’s how he managed to win’ kind of situations.

But walking dildo is too busy feeling sorry for himself (as usual), he just sits by her bed FOR TWO FUCKING DAYS, doing absolutely NOTHING to make sure she’ll be safe.

Nooira says that Juliette should be killed and she’s still alive for some reason.

He’s entire persona is that he’s rude to people (but not bbc’s sherlock holmes kind of rude, when he’s unbearable dick but he’s actually smart and really gets shit done, so we can tolerate him). He’s just rude.

He doesn't care about Adam or James's wellbeing (remember Ignite me Warner who really wanted a family? Yeah that's him now).

But he has gruppies now, because he’s hot and everyone in the sanctuary wants to fuck him.

Oh and he proposed to Juliette. HE PROPOSED. THEY ENGAGED! DO YOU HEAR ME??? THEY GONNA BE MARRIED! HE PROPOSED TO HER! AND SHE SAID YES! THEY GONNA MERRY!

Because god fucking forbid we forget about it.

(mafi really thinks that her readers have the mental capacity of a golden fish, huh?)

I lost count how many times walking dildo implies that he's gonna kill himself if Juliette is not with him (disgusting).

Then our walking dildo cures Juliette by the power of petting (it’s not power of love, lads and gents; you want to see love go watch defenders on netflix; mafi already copypasted elektra’s arch from that show into imagine-me Juliette, you can do yourself a favor and see how this trope can be executed without borderline on sexual assault petting scene).

18-old girl marries a fucking sociopath believing he’s actually a good person.

(we all know how shit like this ends, people like that don't change; and this 'he's different with me cuz i'm very special and i'm gonna teach him the right way' it's really harmful message considering that the audience of those books are mostly teenage girls).

Trust me, there's nothing revolutionary in this trope, it's tale as old as time.

Here's the thing, good written character always defined by connection to other people: friend, lovers, enemies, family, foes, acquaintances, even some random strangers. It's the easiest way to establish what kind of person they are.

Walking dildo doesn't have any of that because all of his "character" revolves around Juliette. He's not a person anymore. By the end of Imagine me he doesn't have friends (his relationships with Kenji or Haider non-existent), no family connections (no talks with Adam or James), even enemies or foes or even people that don't like him (because everyone wants to fuck him, because being hot is his only character trait).

His only family and friend is Juliette. And you know what? It's fucking boring, overdone and lazy as fuck. And insulting to the character he once was.

No redemption arch, no character arch at all.

Happy end.

#i'm gonna pretend that second trilogy doesn't exist #long-ass post #shatter me series #shatter me #aaron warner #nazeera ibrahim #kenji kishimoto #paris anderson #juliette ferrars #eff writes #meta #restore me #defy me #imagine me #fantasy books #tahereh mafi #character analysis

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 11

Woo, so while I'm in a mad rush to clean my house in preparation for new windows TOMORROW. While I've been cleaning, this story WENT OFF in my head and I was, in a mad dash to get it all down on my breaks. Oh the storm is a- brewin! And if you don't at least want to scandolously and in an outrage and a gasp- yell 'You bitch!' at the end of the chapter, I will have failed you. Becuase I was yelling that writing it.

Thank you to @kriskukko for letting me borrow her regency era orc art and to @punkhorse96 for your amazing feedback. Hehehe.

Blood For Gold

Part 11

“So what can you tell me about Charlotte?” Zax pressed as he helped pick out jewelry for you to wear for dinner among your jewelry that had been brought from your home and that had just recently been given to you, looking for more of your Kilan style pieces.

“I’ve only known her for a couple of days, she’s very nice, so far at least.” You answered.

“And what can you tell me about Jane?” Ocearian posed as he finished getting dressed himself, smoothing out his clothes and appraising how he looked in the full mirror as all three of your brothers converged in your room while their own rooms were getting prepared.

“Oh don’t you start anything with her. She’s a very sweet, kind, but very innocent girl. In England women are kept purposefully naive and ill informed and powerless and are practically property of their fathers, brothers and then husbands. Her parents are monsters. More vicious than any wolf or viper that would make the most stone cold dragonborn moura in the Qing Dynasty or every devil in hell consider returning to a path of righteousness to the Creator. They are very abusive to her, mentally, emotionally and physically and the only reason it’s not sexually too is because her virginity is considered sacred. They hurt her to control me when I had to live with them at Broadcove when they found they could not hurt me all the ways they wanted to. English custom and culture demands that she is never to be left alone with any man for any reason except her own father, who is the most dangerous of all. All she has to keep her from ruination and disgrace is her own innocence and honor and virginity which all dangles precariously by a thread. Her parents hate me. They despise me and have made my life worse than any hell in existence since I came here and it is only because I have leverage and blackmail on them that I’m surviving them so far.” You revealed adamantly.

“Oooh, blackmail? What kind of blackmail?” Axal asked as he came over and practically sat in your lap at your vanity in the room before he touched up your makeup again from his vantage point.

“Spill, I need it. All of it.” Axal insisted.

“Ramsey has five mistresses and several illegitimate heirs and his favorite mistress is Audrey Rogers at The Red Velvet Rope which is a moura whorehouse here in London Towne that he goes to on a weekly basis.” You informed him.

“No not on him, I mean that does make things fun for me, but on the Morrigans.” Axal prompted.

“No, I’m not playing my ace just yet. Not unless I need to.” You shook your head no.

“So it’s an ace. That means it’s very solid proof.” Axal grinned triumphantly.

“It is and it’s substantial.” You allowed.

“Ace of spades then.” Axal surmised.

“Ace of spades.” You confirmed to Axal before turning to Ocearian again.

“But Jane is way too sweet and innocent for anyone to mess with her and I will go down swinging to protect her, she’s the closest thing to a real friend I’ve had since I came here. All my other friends in the last year I had to pay to be so. Jane suffers enough from the hands of her parents, she deserves better than anyone trying to toy with her.” You insisted again.

“I would never toy with her! She’s divine. And there’s mutual attraction, genuine mutual attraction.” Ocearian insisted as you resigned yourself with a sigh because you could see his feelings in his eyes.

“Then court her properly, according to English culture and customs because nothing else will do. But again, her parents will shoot you down. She is their pawn and they are not about to let her go to Dorierra of all places, they probably want her to stay on the English Empire side, not anywhere else. She has a little brother who is to inherit everything and even if her parents were to be struck by lightning tonight, he would then have say in everything and he’s been brainwashed by his parents to hate me too and hate all mouras in turn.” You warned him.

“Even with your ace of spades? They wouldn’t reconsider?” Axal prodded.

“No. And it’s because of that ace of spades that they probably never will either.” You answered.

“Is the ace of spades also the reason you’re a shakan now?” Axal asked as your brothers paused to hear your answer.

“...yes and no, it’s very complicated.” You reluctantly answered before you noticed the time.

“Come on, we need to finish getting ready and go down to dinner.” You told them, not wanting to talk about it any further.

Demsey’s jaw fell to the floor when you and your brothers came to dinner just a few moments later than everyone else, all of you wearing color coordinated and matching outfits as you were clearly dressed in a style he had never really seen before as he barely noticed that Calla and Bennie and their brothers had done the same, choosing to don the style they were most comfortable in of their own cultures and quarters.

You had a little top on, that barely covered your breasts but your middle was bared as was your back but you were wearing a sheer shawl and to see your gold moura marks on such intimate parts of your person, he still couldn’t help but remember Aurdra Draft’s marks. But he was sure that yours were even more luxurious and numerous than hers had been and your skirt was very poofy and full but the embroidery and the fabrics used as well as the clearly moura ethnic jewelry, had you looking like a foreign princess yourself and had himself ready and willing to pledge himself to you and follow you to the ends of the world and forgetting every rule of decorum as he couldn't help but stare longingly and desirous as he dared and one coy look and smile from you and he swooned as he practically elbowed his way to sit next to you at the table which delighted you that he would do so.

“Oh Father, since we are expecting Audra’s family the day after tomorrow, in only three days, the Midnight Peacock has it’s Volto Masqurade, I thought we should all go and attend.” Ramsey insisted to his father.

“Oh absolutely.” Gregori agreed.

“Also, it was suggested we have an official Kamoba battle.” Ramsey added as Axal let his pinky graze the outside of Ramsey's thigh and grinned when Ramsey subtly squirmed but clearly had a physical reaction to his advance before Ramsey reached under the table and grabbed Axal's knee and tried to give it a warning grip but all that accomplished was Axal becoming emboldened even more.

“Oh that sounds magnificent, Darling you must agree to such a request.” Yalin urged Gregori as she uncharacteristically sat to his immediate left while Ramsey sat to his immediate right.

“It has been a very long time since the palace of Windsor has seen a Kamoba battle, we will have to do all we can for a proper one.” Gregori readily agreed.

��What’s Kamoba?” Demsey asked curiously.

“It’s a mix of several games. Do you have a game where it’s like- capture the flag of an opposing team?” You answered from your place next to Demsey since Axal had taken your former place as you sat next to Yalin per her request as Zax was sitting on the other side of Axal and Charlotte sitting next to him as the two were immediately taken with each other as Jane sat on the other side of Charlotte with Ocearian on the other side of her as Jane as Rian was practically fawning over her and she was with him as well, as shy and reserved as she was but you were worried for her because you knew that the moment her parents would reappear, she’d be stripped from him and it was almost cruel to let anything to blossom between them, as natural as it seemed to be.

But you yourself would be lying if you didn’t enjoy Demsey sitting so close to you. Before it was always across from him. He still smelled good, like fresh, clean laundry and his own spicy personal musk filling your nose and making your feminine folds squish with essence of desire. You of course partially blamed yourself for perhaps projecting your preference for Demsey Draft onto the good Duke and tried to reason with yourself that they were probably two very different people, one was a harlot in a whorehouse and the other was an upstanding Duke of nobility and besides a similarity in looks and voice, probably shared little else in common. But the message didn’t seem to reach your body from your brain because your body was reacting to him the same way it had reacted to Demsey Draft.

Also from this proximate distance, Demsey could smell your luxurious and alluring perfume and your scent in general which was still sending him into a tizzy. He could feel the heat roll off of you in waves and feel your full skirts brush against his leg as he wanted nothing more than to reach down and hold your hand under the table, or better yet, dig his nose into you and find all the sources of those amazing scents. You smelled both clean yet perfumed and decadent and opulent, alluring and divine and if he could bottle this scent, he would, in heartbeat. But he would never sell such a treasure, he would hoard it forever.

“Oh yes of course, it was a favorite of mine as a child,” Demsey nodded.

“Well it’s like that, only it’s also fencing, but the swords and other weapons are superheated so that once you spit oil onto them, so that you more or less breathe fire onto them, then you fight with flaming weapons. But you have to wear special leather armor that’s meant to keep you cool so you don’t burn up or drop from heat exhaustion. Also the Kamoba battle arena is an obstacle course with anywhere from three, to five to seven capture points, or beacons as they’re usually called, and once you capture them, you ignite the charge and they explode into flames and color, like a firework, with colored smoke. And you can either fight one on one or in teams of equal number or even among the sexes, women against the men.”

“But that is never fair because women usually win, like 9 times out of 10.” Axal praised from his spot across from you as he appraised how affected Demsey was by you. You weren’t even really trying that hard to ensnare him and Demsey was clearly already smitten, if you just put out just a bit more effort, you’d have him right where you would want him.

“What?” Demsey asked, not thinking he had heard that right.

“Moura women are fiercer competitors, usually quicker, stealthier and frankly better in every way because women communicate much better with each other and work better together and coordinate beautifully and while the men are usually fighting and arguing with each other about who takes the lead, who does what, while the women have already figured that out and are onto the second or even third or fourth beacon by that point.” Axal explained.

“And nothing will show a moura’s colors better than a round of Kamoba, you’ll see even the sweetest, gentlest moura, show a fierceness and ruthlessness and competitiveness usually only reserved for gladiators but within the Kamoba arena, even the most battle hardened veteran is not match for a moura woman agent. I remember watching Yalin fight Kamoba with.. Oh I forget her name, it was something viper, desert viper of some kind, Yalin had been nothing but sweet to me, but her ruthlessness in that arena sealed the deal for me.” Gregori praised as Yalin giggled gleefully at the praise.

"Loreiris," Yalin supplied.

"Loreiris Amaharas? The Saharan Viper?" You asked, knowing that name well as your brothers also inclined their ears to hear that name.

"Yes, the very one." Yalin Confirmed.

"That's my grandmother on my mother’s side." You revealed before your brothers confirmed that.

"Is it? Oh I didn't realize! How is she?" Yalin asked.

"Still teaching Kamoba. She is a master, I have seen her take on teams of 15 all by herself, she’s usually only armed with a boomerang, a bow and a sword, the fastest round in the records was won by her, less than three minutes." Axal proudly informed them.

"Oh there's no way I'd win a match against her now then." Yalin giggled.

“And Audra is her greatest pupil yet.” Axal praised.

“Really? Oh I knew there was a reason I instantly loved you.” Yalin cooed to you proudly as you blushed bashfully, knowing that in England, women were rather forbidden from taking up the martial arts as you worried about Demsey being put off by such a thing since he was very proper.

But on the contrary, Demsey was now fantasizing about you in full armor swinging a flaming sword and suddenly every fantasy with a battle maiden in his own orcish culture was becoming fulfilled, all he needed was to put your face in his mind’s eye and he was ready to just fall to your feet and propose. However highly improper that would be.

“I have not held a sword in two years, I don’t think my skills have kept that well.” You allowed.

“Oh it’s like riding a griffin, you never really forget.” Yalin waived off.

“And of course it’s always fun to gamble on the teams. I made Yalin’s bride price for the bet I made on her, really I went with my brother to the stables for him to pick out his queen among the favorites and being the third younger brother to the future king, they only allowed me to have the generalley bride price, which the generalley brides are fine but I was on the hunt for extraordinary and low and behold here is Yalin, with her sisters, all of which were in the imbraturi class which is the imperial class that usually only reserved for emperors and kings and the like, which is of course Yalin was in that one so I bet the whole sum on her since she was already set to duel with the Saharan Viper that if she won, and I won the bet, that I would use those winnings to buy her outright, which is of course what happened and betting on you my dear has always been my best investment of my life and one that I will always repeat.” Gregori praised as you sat there in adoration because clearly they loved each other dearly, Gregori and Yalin were proof that the system could lead to happiness and satisfaction in everything while Ramsey felt ill as he looked at you. Because he couldn’t and didn’t feel the same about you. You were a last resort, his last chance at saving grace and you kept yourself withdrawn from him while Axal on the other hand was threatening to unnerve him completely. The way Axal was dressed, had him wanting to rip his clothes off and find the source of that cologne with his mouth into every crook and cranny on Axal and really show Axal not to start anything he wasn’t ready and willing to finish as Ramsey’s touch had only stroked up Axal’s thigh to try to pay back to Axal what Axal was currently doing to him and to feel the thick, heavy bulge along his thigh, made him weak and his pucker was practically winking in anticipation.

“Oh stop. How do you know I didn’t beg Loreiris to lose on purpose to me just so that you could take me home? I was and still am madly in love with you, I was desperate to leave with you one way or another.” Yalin waived off bashfully.

“Because such a thing is one against the rules and would have resulted in an automatic forfeit and two against the code of honor. I’m sure your love for him gave you the fuel and all the power you needed to win.” Axal flattered which got Yalin to preen proudly.

“Well I suppose you’re right, of course one can’t forget the verbal component because while you’re fighting each other with flaming swords, you’re also supposed to be battling wits and trash talk and insult each other in the most artful of ways of course, all while set to music so that your words and actions compliment everything else. There is no greater spectacle than a Kamoba battle, but it will take a few days to prepare such an arena.” Yalin said.

“So wait, it’s capture the flag, but with fencing, but the swords are on fire, while on an obstacle course and the “flags” are fireworks that you have to set off, all while battling with wits all set to music?” Demsey asked as he counted each component on a finger and almost running out of fingers.

“Also while wearing another full body leather suit to save you from the flames but each person or each team rather, depending on what kind of flame oil is used, will leave a mark. So it’s usually black versus white. So one side will wear black leather, the other white. But whenever you get struck, there will be a mark, and depending on the kind of oil and the kind of pigment used, you could get any number of colors marked on you and depending on where you get those marks, it’s points. And usually when playing in teams, there will usually be an archer on either side which sends burning arrows at you from across the arena.” You informed him.

“My head is spinning just thinking about it, how in the world do you manage it all? I’m overwhelmed just thinking about it, I can’t imagine how overwhelmed I would be trying to play.” Demsey confessed which you found comforting that he would be so modest and humble in his own abilities.

“Well that’s why it’s the Dorierran national sport and why the Dorierran army has never seen a complete defeat, because if the games are that intense, imagine how intense we would be on the battlefield or much less any other place where performance is key.” Axal practically purred as you blushed at Axal’s implication because you could also see Axal practically clawing up Ramsey’s leg as he said it and Ramsey blushed and squirmed ever so slightly and you wanted to shake your head by how hard and fast Axal was onslaughting Ramsey and appreciated that Demsey was much more subtle and appreciated subtlety in turn. You had come to realize and appreciate how perhaps Lady Kate Whiteale was maybe a little to forward, a little too direct and insistent. Men did like to chase, not necessarily liked to be chased. But Ramsey was surprising you because he was giving Axal that look. That look that said ‘keep it up and I promise you, I’ll torture you with bliss’ look and Axal was giving him an equally heated look.

In your early stable days, you would have discerned that Ramsey would have wanted such an approach and two years ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated in giving it to him, hell even a full year ago, you would have been desperate to do so. But now, you were happy to be more reserved, more thoughtful, more watchful and discerning.

“Really?” Demsey asked in surprise.

“Oh yes. There was only a handful of times the Dorierran armies were somewhat defeated on the battlefield, defending Dorierra and it’s walls but when they met the walls, the whole country can be boobytrapped and it’s the Dorierran women who defeated those armies that had tried to overcome the soldier men and the walls in turn. Moura men can rise and fall, but it’s the women who are the backbone of society and run the country as well as they do. Dorierra is very much a matriarchal society. Whereas here it’s clearly patriarchal. There is no soldier, warrior, gladiator alike more devastating than a moura mother protecting her child.” Axal explained.

“Well, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Demsey had to agree.

After dinner, Axal and Ramsey practically disappeared while the rest of you retired to the gardens to get an evening stroll in, where Axal and Ramsey’s absence didn’t appear to be noticed by anyone before you asked Amara to go with you to tour the gardens and chose a far corner near the front door where you noticed a discrete carriage was pulled up before you noticed Axal and Ramsey depart from the house, both of them wearing rather unremarkable clothes in the English style as you realized that Axal must be wearing Ramsey’s English clothes because Axal didn’t have any English clothes to speak of, so that they would blend in with any crowd on a busy street, both of them practically giggling giddily as you asked Amara to hang back while Ramsey looked almost like a deer caught in the headlights when he noticed you approaching as his cheeks flushed cherry before Axal said something to him and Ramsey got in the carriage so that Axal left his side to meet you half way.

“Where are you to off to?” You asked Axal as Ramsey was getting anxious as Axal left his side to join yours while Amara stood back as well, to give you and your brother privacy.

“To the Red Velvet Rope to meet Audrey myself.” Axal grinned.

“Oh, well in that case, have fun, actually…” You paused.

“I have a susceptibility there, you must protect me in this respect, I need to know how much that could affect me.” You murmured to him, with a pleading look.

“Of course, anything, what’s his name?” Axal asked.

“Demsey Draft, he looks and sounds almost exactly like Duke Demsey Voyambi, you can’t miss him. But oh is he exquisite, but in English society, it’s technically forbidden.” You praised.

“Consider it done,” Axal kissed your cheeks and winked and left your side to rejoin Ramsey as you did the same with Amara.

“Where are they off to?” Amara asked.

“Oh they’re going out, Axal wanted to see London and Ramsey’s giving him a mini tour apparently, I asked Axal to try to get to know the real Ramsey for me. Because surely with four brothers, who they are when they are with friends or doing whatever it is they do in gentlemen’s clubs is not who they tend to be when they’re around their families.” You explained.

“Of course. You want to see what Ramsey is really like, because you do not think that the person he shows you is the real him?” Amara surmised.

“Exactly. Men especially in English society seem to have a different facet of themselves, one for business, one for socializing, one for family, one for friends. Just like we do I suppose. But I must confess that I pulled you aside for something rather serious. I have so few friends and even fewer people I trust to have their confidence and discretion.” You began.

“Please, count me as one of them, what do you need?” Amara asked. Eager to do whatever she could to help.

“In only a day or two, my family is coming here. And while I’m happy to see them, I don’t trust that the reason for their visit is to purely reunite with me. I have reason to believe that they’ve been invited to come to pressure me and coerce me into accepting a possible proposal from the Dauphin. And I want and need you to know right now, that I will not willingly accept such a thing. We are mismatched and the Dauphin and this castle, while a loving home for Ramsey, would be a gilded cage for me. You see how Yalin and Gregori love each other unconditionally, and I know Ramsey wishes for the same for himself. But I do not care for Ramsey, I have no attraction to him or desire for him, let alone any appetite for him, even if he were the Crown Prince of England, it would not sway me to either have, or find or make up any kind of attraction or affection for him, and I can not bear to enter into another loveless marriage. Broadcove was my prison while I was there. And I do not wish for any other place, even a palace such as this to be my next one. I would rather be penniless and living in a hut on a mountain top but happily married rather than be a Dauphine of Windsor but have no respect for myself or love in my life.” You professed.

“Of course. I have far too many friends who have done nothing but find the richest suitor so that they can live a comfortable life, but there is no peace, or kindness or affection in their comfortable homes. Very few are lucky enough to find love and material comfort, and many have to choose one over the other.” Amara sympathized.

“So if I need to flee from a possible marriage to Ramsey, would you help me?” You asked.

“I would, in a heartbeat. Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. I’d even consider going with you if Kate Whiteale’s brother John, who I loathe almost as much as I do Kate were to try to insist on his own addresses to me. I know this sounds crazy but if Storren were to ask me to follow him back to Dorierra, I would probably do it.” Amara confessed.

“Except if you do that, you’d be going to Dorierra as a servant to another moura woman. You could be anything from a laundress, to a cook to a farmer or...any number of things. Because Storren is only a chef in the kitchens back in Dorierra.” You tried to gently caution her.

“I would rather farm vegetables and be happy than be a duchess and unhappy.” Amara insisted herself.

“I’m happy we agree then. Your brother Demsey has offered to assist me if such a measure needs to be taken. But I can not be seen going to his room, nor he- mine without a benign reason, even if it is to keep anything there that would indicate that I would flee, I can’t keep such things in my room, or in the rooms of my siblings. Because they will tell my parents who then will tell Gregori and Yalin, much less the stables or the royal family, but you can not say anything to Storren, because he would most likely report it to Bennie who I wouldn’t put it past her to use that against me and against your family because moura brothers are sadly information pumps for their sisters, as you will see that Axal is for me with Ramsey and I don’t want you to suffer from knowing this and if you told Storren, or anyone else, I would be done for. Ramsey already is trying to entangle my griffin Heavencrest with Charlico and is having them stall together so they will become a true mated pair. If I were to try to fly her away, Charlico would either alarm the stable that Heavencrest was leaving or try to leave with us and I would be seen as stealing Charlico and a bounty would be put on my head and Charlico’s price would skyrocket, so much so that there would be no way for me to pay it, with anything other than my marriage hand or my life. I am trying to talk Axal into getting Ramsey to sell me Charlico so that if I need to flee, I can flee with both of them. But I don’t think Ramsey, let alone Gregori and Yalin would agree to it because it’s just another tie for them to keep me here. But I would rather deal with a heartbroken Heavencrest rather than being in another gilded cage.” You murmured.

“I understand, so how can I help exactly?” Amara asked.

“No one would think anything if I gifted you a trunk full of “gifts”, and no one would think twice about Demsey going to your room and simply moving those “gifts” or putting things from your room to his and if I disguise my fleeing things in a trunk of other gifts, that your brother would then move to his room and no one would think anything of Demsey moving things to the stables, because he is a gentleman and a guest and if he wanted to go for an evening ride, no one would stop him, whereas I would never get even that far without alarming at least the servants.” You proposed.

“Oh of course.” Amara readily agreed.

“And your brother has also offered that if I need to flee, if I send word to him of where I’ve ended up, he’s offered to send me the rest of my belongings. But legally giving him access to any of that is nigh impossible, that is why I want to name you my heir and successor, should I have to flee, I would formally give up all ownership to everything. But I can name you my heir as close friend and confidant. And it would be accepted by the English courts since you are a duchess and of nobility and once you have ownership of my property, can I trust you to return it to me wherever I find myself? Could I count on you for this?” You asked her.

“Absolutely, what do I need to sign?” Amara asked.

“I will write something up tonight and I will give you a trunk full of gifts as well for doing this huge favor for me. But the second trunk will be for my possible fleeing.” You proposed before you hugged each other.

“I wish I was as brave as you, willing to give up a Dauphin, knowing you would be wealthy but unhappy.” Amara murmured.

“And I wish I was like you, knowing what you want immediately upon being introduced to it and not holding back from trying to obtain it.” You offered.

“However, before you decide to follow Storren back to Dorierra, has he explained to you how Dorierra works? And why Dorierra is called ‘The Stables’?” You asked her.

“Uh, not, not really. We haven’t discussed anything like that yet.” Amara confessed.

“Forgive me for being forward, but do you know how sex, conception and thus babies, are made?” You asked.

“Of course I do, my mother has instructed me about such things.” Amara assured you.

“Well then you’re the first non married Englishwoman I’ve met who knows such things then. But there is more you need to know then. Before you get too attached to Storren, you should know that Dorierra has the name- The Stables- for a reason. Every moura wife who lives in Dorierra, is a broodmare, and every moura man is a stud. I’m sure you’ve noticed how it is only Axal and myself that look like true siblings, and that’s because Rian and Zax are only my half brothers. While my parents are married, it is the stables who dictates who has sex with you on any given moment of any given day and the stables has the business of conceiving down to a flawless science, to the point that women know they are pregnant within five days of missing the first day of their courses and they can pinpoint exactly what day and probably the time of conception because it’s all recorded.” You began.

“Every month, the conceive week is spent having sex at least three to five times a day, once upon first waking up and then after every meal and then again right before sleep, where if your husband is not who the stud is, he is removed from the house and sent to sleep somewhere else, usually across the country so there is no chance that his own seed will take root that month, and it is repeated each month and depending on how valuable the genetics that are passed down to possible offspring, either the whole week is spent with the intended stud or the week can be seperated by halves, thirds or fifths, where you have five different studs having sex with you at least five times a day for a week, most moura women pray for pregnancy so that their cunnies don’t get rubbed raw by such vigorous activities, the best studs can cum within a minute so that the woman doesn’t have to endure too much but usually the female orgasm is reserved for the last sex session before bed to promote better sleep for her.” You explained as Amara’s eyebrows practically went up into her hair line in surprise.

“Only when a moura mother is pregnant, is she allowed to enjoy only her husband for the duration of the pregnancy but while she is pregnant and no longer subject to spending her days and nights with others, her husband is still a stud and he will still spend most days and nights either working secularly for the stables or sexually for the stables, so prepare yourself that because you would be a forign wife and therefore, not subject to the stables way yourself and Storren could enjoy your own fidelity, Storren would never be able to give you the same. His genetics are too precious and the reason why moura men are rarely ever allowed to leave Dorierra is to preserve them for moura wives exclusively. Right now the stables are working on creating a pastel version paradise orcs and robin’s eggs orcs out of the current paradise orcs and Storren already has several children by several different ladies, it’s just in the culture there, but the only protection is that mouras are immune to sexually transmitted diseases, but I would fear for you because you have no such protection in your body, and Storren would have to use the very harshest soaps that are made to cleanse the male genatalia to keep from passing anything over to their wives and it’s always used on moura studs when their wives are pregnant to ensure the safety and health of the baby.” You warned her as she looked shocked and almost alarmed, if not a little gutted.

“It is why I wanted to leave Dorierra, because seeing my house father, because there is a distinction between house father and heir father, being sent away from the love of his life for a week every month when she was not pregnant was very distressing but it is just the way it is for moura mothers in Dorierra, and the entire country would collapse because Dorierra needs all the moura brides it can create to sell on the world market like any other broodmare or heffer at an auction.” You furthered as she seemed to take that into account.

“But it’s not like moura brides fare much better. Depending on where you end up, you could be in a harem, sharing a sultan or a shah or sheik with hundreds or maybe even a thousand other women. But in Europa, even a queen rarely has a king all to herself, usually there will always be other mistresses but having to share him with a handful is better than sharing your husband with tens or hundreds of thousands of others at Dorierra. It’s why my own desire for my complete fidelity and the complete fidelity in a mate makes no sense, not to any moura or any other from Dorierra, even here in England, there are whorehouses, and courtesans and mistresses a plenty. But it is why I agreed to marry Edward, because never in his life had he ever had a mistress and he never once used a whorehouse. But moving forward, I don’t know if I could expect the same for anyone else, but my mother blames that on all the fairytales I’m so fond of as a child because a moura- there is supposed to be little to no emotional attachment between lovers, it’s all supposed to be business, but I don’t have the heart or the stomach for such business. I was crushed when I was a little girl and realized why all these men who were not my house father were coming to see my mother and why I didn’t look anything like my house father. And my hier father is one of the most popular studs in Dorierra, he can cum in about two to three pumps and while he’s a charmer and a flatterer and I like to believe that he has some kind of fatherly affection for me, he was more proud of the high bride price I brought in rather than anything else. He has thousands of children and not once has he tried to address me by my name, it’s always pet names, like dearest or darling or sweetheart. Dorierra is probably oversaturated by his genetics, but one can’t argue with these results.” You explained as you looked at the gold moura feather marks on your arms pointedly as Amara did the same, looking at them in a whole new light now.

“But Demsey has never used a whorehouse, at least to my knowledge, he is above such things as is Tzane, Sierge on the other hand, not so much. And my father would never do my mother the dishonor of having any other than her in their marriage bed, while it is true that in the past, orcs were seen to be very promiscuous, now in modern times, we’ve thankfully left that behind, at least in polite society.” Amara insisted.

“Well, keep it to yourself, but that’s probably why I prefer Demsey to Ramsey then.” You hinted which made her happy but you could tell that your word of warning had shaken her a bit.

“I don’t wish to scare you off of Storren, I really don’t, he’s perfectly wonderful and he would treat his future wife like she was a goddess and he’s capable of such things, house wives and house husbands have emotional fidelity, and his figurative heart would be yours and only yours for life should that relationship go in that direction but I feel you should know the whole truth about Dorierra and its culture, if you ever want to make it your home.” You felt compelled to try to clarify.

“Oh, don’t apologize, I thank you very much for telling me. In polite society, we don’t really talk about such things and when I hear about Dorierra referred to as ‘the stables’ I think most of us didn’t have an inkling that it was like that for the whole country, just the moura bride part but it seems the whole country is consumed by it. But as a friend, if you hadn’t told me, I think it would be in a rude awakening if I were to follow him home and get hit with that out of nowhere because Storren hasn’t even hinted at such things, should I tell my sisters about it?” Amara asked.

“If you feel there is a chance for them to form any kind of serious attachment, yes. I think such things are usually assumed. Because native Dorierrans, assume everyone else knows about it because Dorierra has that title, that it’s already implied and I think most don’t realize it’s the whole country, not just a tiny part of it.” You advised.

“But please don’t tell Demsey, or any of my other brothers, or especially my parents. Brothers can be so overprotective, at least English ones, they would demand that we stop all comradery or friendly conversation between us because they are all lovely and we’re just now becoming acquainted and barely even friends and I would hate for this to come between our friendship just because it’s a very stark distinction between cultures and Dauphin and Dauphine did say to keep an open mind. But I fear they would yank us away from them and they would do that just in an effort to protect us but it would be a kneejerk- overreaction, because Dorierran culture would most likely be seen as obscene by them.” Amara pleaded with you.

“Of course, I would think your brothers probably already assume the truth. English women, not so much and I would hate for any of your siblings, male or female alike to be deceived by ignorance.” You reasoned.

“Precisely.” Amara nodded.

“Come, you can help me pack for an escape now if you wish and pick out your presents yourself.” You offered her before the two of you went back into the house.

Meanwhile Benny was halfway through giving Sierge a blowjob, timing her strokes with every piece of dirt he offered on his brother.

“And..and uh, he...he’s used The Red Velvet Rope, it’s a moura whorehouse, at least twice now, he ahhh.” Sierge hissed lowly as he gritted his teeth in pleasure and gripped the armrests of the garden chair tucked neatly away inside the tall hedged with a vice like grip as the sweat of his brow beaded on his forehead with the strain not to make any other noises because every moan and keen he let loose, she stopped and pulled off and every time he stopped speaking she did the same and it was the most gloriously frustrating thing he’d ever endured, to be tortured by pleasure like this and his own pleasure chased away any guilt he had about telling Demsey’s secrets.

“He has gone there twice since he met Audra on the train a few weeks ago, he went there in search of a double for her, because he has been attracted to her since he laid eyes on her.” Sierge managed as Bennie masterfully stroked and fondled his testicles through his ballsack while her nose was buried into the thick forest of hair at the base of his dick as her breath in that area practically alighted with delight since even there, he was sweating.

“And. oh, oh ah, and, um, he found her, someone who looks remarkably like her there, according to him, even her voice was similar enough to induce a fantasy that he was fucking the real Audra and she even has the same nickname as Audra, only her name is Audra Draft,” Sierge panted as his butt cheeks were clenched so tight as he felt like she was sucking his soul out through his dick.

“And have you met her?” Bennie quickly asked before she got back to task.

“No, I’ve, oh, ah, I’ve, gods, I’ve tried, but she’s probably booked solid, the only one close there is an Audrey Rogers who works there, but she’s brunette and married to a minotaur that works there, he goes by “Draft” though. But he’s either not related or not affiliated with Audra Draft. Unless the Draft is an assumed name. Which is possible.” Sierge managed before Bennie decided that he had given her enough, for now before she doubled her efforts and in two minutes flat, he was emptying his extra large load down her throat as his eyes were screwed shut so he didn’t see how Bennie was rolling her eyes and almost glaring resentfully at his manhood for just the practically incessant pumping, it was practically a torrent of cum. He was such a sweaty, hairy thing and just like any other man she had ever manipulated in her life. Claiming to be a “gentleman” but when push came shove or kiss to suck rather, just like all the others, willing to sell out his own family for his own pleasure. No more honor than the average man and nothing remarkable at all in her opinion. And he was barely able to hold out for several minutes and that was her going torturously slow for the sake of pumping information, if she had gotten right to it and kept at it, he wouldn’t last two minutes. He wouldn’t really know how to please a woman at all, all he had ever wanted was his own needs and desires sated, no matter the expense. Typical. But at least she was getting somewhere with him. Calla was moving at a snail's pace and practically twitterpated with Tzane, it was like she was a lovesick school girl still, which didn’t make sense because they were the same age, had the same training, either that or Calla was playing ‘perfectly innocent’ to get his guard down. But still, not the real moura agent she was supposed to be, and not the real moura agent Bennie was.

“Is there any chance that the woman he met there was the real Sultana Audravienne?” Bennie asked once she popped off and appraised her work. Sierge was a sweaty, indisposed mess and she gauged that it would take him no less than half an hour to come back into himself. She practically sucked the soul from him. One of her easiest blows yet before she got up and straightened up.

“Not a chance in hell. No lady worth any kind of nobility would be caught dead in a whorehouse. Plus she’s been in mourning for count Edward Morrigan, the Morrigans would bury her alive if she ever did anything to tarnish the “Morrigan family honor”. And the way Demsey and Amara carry on, they practically tried already.” Sierge said as he managed to get set straight but his whole body felt spent and tired while his head was in those blessed clouds, he was in pure ecstasy, that was the greatest blow of his life.

Bennie giggled.

“Why is that so funny?”

“Audravienne? The Saharan Viper’s greatest protege to date, who if she had stayed in the stables would have been named The Golden Saharan Viper and been the top competitor in the world of Kamoba which is if ballet met the bloodiest, fiercest war ever who is as lethal as she is beautiful, the top bride in all of the Dorierran stables, the top fighter and performer in the stables, who’s more physically fit than any racehorse, who had perfect marks in almost every single category they test for including agentry which means if she wanted to be a damn spy, she could be, who is the gold standard still in the stables, being a victim of anyone? No. Audravienne is the most lethal, devastating and the epitome of the perfect moura bride. She is no victim to anyone, not unless she got way too soft way too fast. She had the potential to bring down empires. And you’re telling me, an aged couple from England? With no royal ties, got the better hand of her? No. Impossible. You know why? Because Audravienne, physically, has rarely ever seen defeat physically and if they tried to abuse her physically she could kill everyone in the house, maids and all and make it look like the plague, if they tried to poison her even, she is immune to every disease and every poison in the world, she’s a master at poisons even. You could line all of the poisons up in the world in shot glasses and she’d shoot them all like whiskey and she’d be able to tell you which was which and tell you exactly how you managed to get all of them and while she’d be drunk off her ass by the end of it she would do it perfectly without a single mistake. Audravienne’s other grandmother, The Jade Empress, who held the last Sultanate state in her iron grip, practically wrote the book on how to manipulate everyone around you to do your bidding with pleasure and do it with the thinking that it was their own idea to begin with and Audravienne excelled at it. She is no one’s victim. Now, would I put it past her to play the victim to your brother if he’s the savior type, is he?” Bennie asked as she sat down on the bench next to him.

“He is. Painfully so.” Sierge realized.

“Then there you go. She’s been working him for weeks, playing the damsel in distress type and getting thirty thousand pounds a year to do it, she’s already confided in me that she has blackmail on the Morrigans and that’s why they’re paying her double what Edward awarded her in his will, she may have even played a helpless damsel to them and let her believe that they can hurt her. But if I’m sure about anything, is that Demsey may only see what Audra lets him see. But now that you know the truth, watch them, if his attachment to her is dangerous in your opinion, you can make him see the facts and the light now won’t you? When we get a proper Kamoba battle, everyone will see Audra’s true colors everyone always does with Komoba. And if your brother Demsey is the proper English gentleman type, he should be put off because no gentleman wants to marry an agent and no orc wants to marry a warrior greater than himself in a world where such things are shunned and frowned upon. And as far as I can tell, then it’ll be done, Demsey will lose interest, Audra will come to her senses, go to Ramsey and you and I can continue naturally then won’t we?” Bennie offered. “As, natural as can be.” Sierge grinned triumphantly.

“Well if you think of anything else “useful” it will be rewarded even more so than this.” Bennie winked as Sierge looked like he was about to explode from delight and lust.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure to be seen somewhere else, wouldn’t want to infringe upon your honor or mine.” Bennie cooed before she got up and strutted away.

“And?” Yalin and Gregori asked as Bennie turned the corner.

“Well Demsey is rather boring, but he still has the fatal flaw every man seems to have, and once Audra becomes aware of it, she’ll come to and see sense. Nothing to worry about and nothing too complicated. No damage to be undone there. Just a passing fancy and Sierge will now be a barrier on Demsey’s end.” Bennie reported.

“Excellent.” Gregori praised.

“You have something.” Yalin gestured to her chin before Bennie wiped at her chin to see a drop of cum had escaped the corner of her mouth, she had thought she had gotten it before but this one was missed.

“Thank you, good night, I have a thread I need to tie.” Bennie excused herself from their presence.

“It’s a shame she’s an orc. If she was anything else, Ramsey should be going after her, she is of the right mind.” Gregori offered to Yalin.

“It’s because she’s an orc that she’s gotten that far with the Voyambis. Besides, let Ramsey have his fun for now with Axal, once we have that Komoba battle, Ramsey will see the light and come to his senses too. Demsey will be disenfranchised, Audra’s little play of damsel in distress will be over and things will go as they need to.” Yalin allowed as they watched Bennie’s frame shrink and vanish into the gardens.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Part 11 #Regency era orc period drama #Regency era orcs #morua #orc love story #oh it's going to be getting good #Enjoy

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Reasons to Love Kell Maresh (a long rambling list of traits and situations)

- So let’s start out with shallow here 

- FASHION Baby! red hair with bangs to cover his black eyes, plus a Regency era coat that he can change to fit every occasion? No matter what London he’s in he’s serving looks

- This is important to me, his smile. He gets made fun of all the books for not smiling, but that’s because he doesn’t get the chance to be happy & carefree most of the books and he doesn’t have the ability to put on a happy face when he’s not (not that that’s a bad trait to have, it’s just not his personality). Schwabb does write him smiling a few times when Lila and Rhy are actually... ya know, not stressing him out and instead making him feel good, and it’s all the more special because you as the reader know the smile is genuine. 

- his fucking humility jesus christ let’s rehash his situation. He is. the MOST powerful magician in his world, and he’s been told this from a young age. On top of that he’s raised as a member of the royal family. It would be understandable if this made him one haughty motherfucker but no. He doesn’t think he’s better than anyone + he actively revels being in places like Grey London where he can be anonymous

- speaking of humility, if Kell were a different person, his upbringing would be his villain backstory. I mean come on he had a LOT of Loki potential, told he was part of the royal family but not really treated like a son by the King and Queen. Always knowing that Rhy was the real royal, and the one who really had their parent’s love. That sounds like the perfect recipe for attempted coup but no. While Kell is somewhat messed up by the king and queen’s treatment of him, he doesn’t begrudge Rhy anything

- So let’s talk about Rhy

- Things I Love About Kell’s Love for Rhy (a long rambling list within a long rambling list)

+ That Rhy’s  heartbreak broke Kell’s heart so much he hates Alucard more than I think Rhy EVER did.

+ No matter what Rhy does on his binge drinking nights, Kell has his back and falls asleep in a chair beside his bed just in case. You all remember that night? I sure do

+ Even though Kell definitely resents the fact post soul-bond his life is no longer his own, he doesn’t pin his resentment on Rhy. He resents the situation, but never his brother. 

+ even after all the emotional bullshit he got put through in Book 2 by well, everyone Very Much including Rhy, his impulse to run away from his responsibility only lasts for a night and melts with Rhy’s apology. His loyalty to his brother is that strong.

+ asdfkjasl do you all remember the book 2 cliffhanger and how he BROKE HIS OWN hands with how desperately he was trying to get out of the collar so the soul bond wouldn’t be broken and Rhy wouldn’t die. 

+ also you all remember how after that at the beginning of Book 3 he was running around literally bleeding himself dry trying to save as many people as possible until he was about to drop from exhaustion and had to get a few hours of sleep? He doesn’t even go to his own bed, he can only justify the rest to himself if he sleeps slumped over Rhy’s bedside. Also he was probably so worried by almost losing Rhy that he was only able to be calm enough to sleep in the same room as his (breathing) brother.

+ At the end of the series when he leaves to travel, it’s made clear that if Rhy were a more selfish person he could have gotten Kell to stay. Even his big attempt to do something purely to please himself is contingent on the people he loves not needing him too much

+ maybe it would be healthier if Kell could be more selfish but, I just, I think that his loyalty and devotion to those he loves is so noble and I honor him for it. 

- Okay so moving on from Rhy and Kell

-  He’s just so... naturally kind. It’s easy to be kind when you’re happy, which makes it all the more meaningful that Kell is kind no matter how unhappy or stressed out he is.

- Things I Love About Kell’s Natural Kindness ( a slighting less rambling list)

+ he’s kind to King George. Not just “oh this man is mentally ill so I should be gentle with him” he actively makes time to tell the king stories about Red London and give him coins because it makes the king happy. 

+ even though he thinks Ned Tuttle is a tad laughable, he recognizes his earnestness and after their first meeting, he doesn’t belittle him or look down on him.

+ the whole reason he got duped into taking the black stone into Red London because he was trying to be kind to the white London lady

+ The first time he went back for Lila she was just some girl. Some girl that had actively made his life harder by pickpocketing him and then tying him to a bed actually. But he still wasn’t going to let Holland kill her in cold blood (cue Thor meme)

+ oh my god the bit of Kell’s backstory that’s revealed in the ACOL extended edition. When 5 year old Kell (oh my god can you imagine how CUTE 5 year old Kell was I need a fanart of it) learns A Hasari the first thing he does is go over to that old sick dog and try to make him feel better. My heart. 

- Anyways moving on. 

- He gets Holland. At least more than everyone else. He’s the only one who realizes how damaged he is and that he deserves kindness and at the minimum to be left alone. It’s completely understandable why Holland puts up his walls and doesn’t let anyone in, but if he’d only let Kell befriend him, it would have done him good.

- That night with Lila... that boy has. Moves. and frankly was anyone surprised by this. 

- His romance with Lila is sweet... I’m gonna level with you though it’s not really my favorite aspect of the series. I like it alright but it’s not what I focused on while reading so if somebody reading this LOVED it, please gush in a reblog

- He started trips to White London when he was 13 or so!! That was way to young to be going on diplomatic missions to a place as scary as that with absolutely no protection but his own skill as an Antari, but as far as we know he allowed himself to be put through it. It makes me mad at the King and Queen everytime I think about it really, but I admire that he took the responsibility and allowed himself to be put in that position of vulnerability without balking. He’s so brave

- Just, again For the people in the back. He’s so fucking brave. The series is full of moments where Kell has to face an opponent he’s terrified of. Walking into the Dane’s throne room. Making the decision he was going to trap himself in Black London. Facing Osaron. Everything. Kell spends so much of this series scared, and yet every single time. he rises to the occasion, he faces his fear head on and does the thing anyway. 

- yeah... I’m about done

- please if you feel I missed something, feel free to hijack this post

#kell maresh #adsom #a darker shade of magic #acol #shades of magic #ve schwab #a gathering of shadows #a conjuring of light #rhy maresh #alucard emery

[marveloussupernerd]

Crowns and Courtships - A Mystic Messenger AU

Chapter 4 - The Scare

This is a regency-era AU where the readers get to pick the final love interest about halfway through the story! All causal and deep story LIs are options :)

Chapter 3

Summary: who tried to harm you? You meet the new stableboy, Saeyoung Choi, and get a surprise visit from Prince Jumin and his family

Words: 2125

To your side you could see a horse galloping in the other direction towards the stables. Sir Zen had pushed you aside to avoid getting run over by the horse, you figured. Although, it wasn’t that hard to put together, considering he was still lying on top of you from tackling you to the ground. Your face heated up, and his turned bright red. He scrambled off of you then offered a hand to help you up. You took it, allowing him to pull you back to standing position.

The second you stood, he dropped onto his knee, his head down. “Please forgive me, Your Highness. I would not have taken you down if I had thought of any other way to protect you.”

You smiled, taking his hand this time and pulling him up. “You were just doing your job. I thank you for that.”

His hand reached up to touch your face, but you quickly pulled away. “You have a cut on your face, Your Highness. I can take you inside and find somebody who can patch it up for you.”

“I’d rather go to the stables and see who could possibly be causing such havoc first,” You requested. It was unusual for a Princess to go out and confront a person like you were, but you weren’t going to let them get away with that, especially with the stress of that one group being after you! Sir Zen offered you his handkerchief so you could wipe away the blood. You gently dabbed at it, a little coming off, then gave it back.

As you made your way to the stables, you noticed a new visitor there. He had right red hair, curly, clearly messed up from riding at such a high speed. He wasn’t too tall, but quite lanky. It was clear he wasn’t a noble. He turned and looked at the two of you. “Yes?”

You couldn’t help but let out a scoff. “You nearly ran me over with your house.”

“I’m sorry?” He replied. It was hardly genuine. He turned back to the horse he was on and took the saddle off.

“Watch your tone; this is the Princess you’re talking to,” Sir Zen warned, his hand on his side. There must have been some sort of concealed weapon on his side, you figured.

“Look,” he turned to you, approaching slowly. “I get that you’re the Princess, but I’m still the same amount of sorry,” he scoffed, “surprisingly enough, you can’t influence my feelings just based on your class.”

Zen’s hand balled into fists, but you stayed calm. You stepped even closer to the man: “And who might you be? That you think you can talk to me like that?”

“I’m the new stableboy, Saeyoung Choi,” he held his hand out for you to shake. You rolled your eyes, which was unlike you, but honestly you had never been treated in this sort of manner.

“You won’t be for long if you keep this act up,” you warned.

“I don’t know about that. The horse your father rode to one of the nearby kingdoms on got hurt; I’m the reason he got back safely. Also it seems your previous one retired,” he explained, a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, Mr. Choi, it seems you have a lot to learn if you’re going to work here.” You turned away from him, then spoke over your shoulder. “Perhaps learning to ride a horse might be your first endeavor.”

“She’s a new horse. Almost impossible to tame,” he explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I am sorry that you got hurt, though it seems like you’re walking just fine to me.”

You were wordless, and left the stables, Zen walked alongside you this time, escorting you to the palace so you could get your wound attended to. Although it was nothing big, it was important to make sure it wouldn’t become infected. That would cause much greater problems. Jaehee carefully cleaned it out with water then wrapped it in a bandage. You had tea and dinner in your room that night. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this.

The next morning, the wound had not healed much more. It was still a large gash on your forehead. You got dressed in one of your more comfortable white dresses and decided to spend the day in your room once again. Even though it was a cut, it was embarrassing to be seen with it.

You had Jaehee select a book from the library to interest you, this one was on botany, and lounged in your chaise, legs propped up and head tilted back. It was around time for tea when a knock sounded on the door; it startled you: you hadn’t been expecting any visitors. You assumed it was Jaehee and asked her to enter. It was not.

Standing in the doorway was Prince Jumin. You quickly swung your legs off the chaise and stood up to greet him. “Prince Jumin, what a surprise. Please ignore the disarray of… everything. I think it is obvious that I was not expecting you.” You blushed, setting your book down. Your hair was falling out of its style because you had been lying down, the cut in your face stood out; it was embarrassing.

“Your father visited the other day; I was surprised you were not there as well. He invited us over for tea, but I just heard you were not feeling well. I wanted to send my best wishes,” he explained, still standing in the doorway awkwardly.

“Well if you have not had any tea yet, you are more than welcome to have some with me. I need to get myself together, but I will join you downstairs in a moment,” you mustered; you had been dreading seeing other people, especially another King and Queen, but it would be rude if you didn’t join them for tea.

Jumin took a step closer to you; in fact, you were so close you could make out the green swirls in his gray eyes. You hadn’t realized how much taller he was compared to you. Your breath felt drained out of you. He was so close, yet you found yourself unable to move. “How did you get this cut?” He asked, fingers grazing the rough skin so lightly that you could hardly feel it. Your eyes involuntarily fluttered closed.

Ah! It was just you and him in here. Alone. And you were so close. You finally got yourself to take a step back. “Uh, we got a new horse,” you explained, dancing around the whole embarrassing situation. “It is still being trained and adjusting.

You started walking towards the door to the hall; he followed. “I will be down in just a moment to join you for tea,” you reminded him. He took his leave, kissing your hand before stepping out of the room.

The second he took his leave, it was time to panic. Jaehee was downstairs, likely helping organize the tea. You hurried to your room and used a pin under the bun in order to pull back the hair that had come loose. There was no time to redo the hairstyle, especially not on your own. You loosened the pull of the hair so that it covered the wound on your forehead, then started to make your way downstairs, chewing your lips during the descent so that you could bring some color to them.

“King Henry, Queen Amelia. It is such a pleasure to see you,” you greeted as you entered the room, dropping into a deep curtsy.

“Princess, I like what you’ve done with your hair,” the Queen complimented. She turned to her lady. “You will have to try that style on me sometime.

“Mother, Father, I would like to join you all for tea,” you requested, putting on a practiced smile.

“Of course my dear. I wasn’t sure if you were feeling up to company today. I know you were feeling quite faint after yesterday’s events,” your mother explained. It seemed they had set up the tea date in advance, which was interesting because you were supposed to be choosing your own suitor. You remembered Jumin’s words, that he had always planned the two of you would be arranged to marry. You were certain his family was still pushing for it. It almost annoyed you, but you knew it wasn’t his fault personally; he was probably as forced into this as you were at the moment, if not more because they wanted him to court you.

The group got up and made their way into the sitting room for tea. The two fathers were placed at the heads of the table, with their wives seated to the right of them and then you and Jumin to the right once more. You willed yourself not to look and make awkward eye contact with the prince. Your mother nudged you, encouraging you to start a conversation.

Think of something! Anything! Your mind was completely blank. You stared down at your tea, then glanced up at the prince, then back again, searching your mind for any sort of topic. “Was your travel here pleasant? I know it is a long way,” you mustered.

“It wasn’t too bad, but I cannot wait until we go to the city. Everyone lives so much closer to one another that you aren’t stuck in a carriage for hours,” the Queen explained. The families nodded; going to the city was one of the more exciting parts of the year, and it would be even more busy now that you were looking for a suitor.

“Are you also out for the social season, Prince Jumin?” Your mother asked. Oh the scheming. You had to stop yourself from sighing.

He smiled. He was quite dashing. “Ah, not technically. I still have my sights on marrying a princess, as my parents would like me to do as well. But, I see no downside to courting you, Princess, especially if it works out in the end.” How did he make everything seem so simple? He was extremely well-spoken. It made you feel even more self-conscious. You couldn’t respond. You’d only embarrass yourself.

The men stood up, excusing themselves into the other room so they could do their own things. Your mother poured another cup of tea. “Jumin has grown up so much,” she complimented the Queen sitting across from her. You hated when the men and women split up. You always just complimented one another; you wondered what the men did.

“He is very well spoken,” you added. This was just how the social circles worked. Your job was to compliment each other and ask about the ladies’ families or lands one-by-one.

“Thank you, he tries hard to please everyone. He has ever since he was little: always putting on shoes and sometimes even trying to help the maids clean the rooms,” the queen looked directly at you, “he has a kind heart.” It was a warning, as well as a push that you should get to know him better. You smiled and nodded, acknowledging this point. You paused and took a few sips of your tea.

“Well you’ve become quite a fine young lady as well,” the Queen told you. “I’m sure that plenty of esteemed men will be lining up to meet you. You have done quite a good job raising her,” she told your mother. A double compliment. That way she didn’t have to hand any more out. She was clever. But it was strange she mentioned the courting again. The family must have been secretly upset and/or confused by the ordeal.

You smiled, responding to her. “That has been the hope-”

“She has always been somewhat… outgoing. It does not always fit well with some of the other nobles. Ideally, she will find somebody who not only tolerates her candor but also appreciates it.” Nice work, Mom, coming to your defense.

“That makes complete sense; my Jumin is quite infatuated with you, or the idea of you at the very least,” the Queen complimented. This one was far more genuine, perhaps it was because your mother had exposed your flaws so openly. It made you feel weird. Luckily the men came back into the room.

“I heard my name; hopefully it’s all good things, Mother?” Jumin asked, placing a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

“Oh Jumin, I only ever have good things to say about you.”

The King was peering outside. “It looks quite nice out; why don’t the two of you go for a walk so that we can talk about political issues,” he recommended.

#mystic messenger #mysme #Jumin han #zen #saeyoung choi #707 #Jaehee kang #crownsandcourtships

[hedgefairy]

Eeeey, we haven't had another episode of Bridgerton recaps in a while! But here we are, it's

Bridgerton, Episode 5

(if you missed the rest, the tag is #Bridgerbore)

Okay, so I dig the whole muddy hem business (short reminder, we were at this duel thing last time, and Daphne was very much a dramatic Regency heroine, throwing herself into the fire and everything), but I'm really not sure about her undies.

Lady B has a hangover, which is hilarious, and Daphne comes in like "I'm engaged", to Dukey, of course, they all annoy me so much. Cue Lady B fanning herself, and then Daphne goes on about how they want to marry NOW, because THE KISS and it would be such a scandal if that ever came out? I don't think society would mind if you stayed engaged for a while longer, I don't think anyone cares, you self-obsessed brat. Mummy thinks they had steaming hot intercourse and that's why they want to marry ASAP, and apparently that's the best hangover cure that there ist. (I'm not a fan, hangover Lady B was more sufferable than the usual version.)

The queen wears bright red gems with pink silk and it does not look fly at all.

The blue dress Daphne's wearing is pretty for once.

Her rival (CRESSIDAAAAA) and her mother smirk at each other in a carriage because they are scheming, and evil, and we can see that because they are dressed flamboyantly and have complex hairstyles. Also, Cress saw D&D kiss and now they can destroy her or something.

Oh poor Freddie Baby, he's just the cutest but he's about to take his leave because Daphne was the only girl he liked, like, ever, because she's such a diamond of the purest water, adieu, sweet prince.

Everybody keeps promenading without coats or spencers and I'm all "noooo", because it just looks so wrong. Someone give Daphne a stole or a cardigan, it's doesn't even seem particularly warm outside. Her hat also sucks (is that a fascinator? I demand bonnets!), but at least it's not the stupid Wendy bow, so I guess that's progress?

Lord B gets slammed in the face with the door by the dressmaker because Opera Girl up and left. See, Lord B, that's because you're a little bitch and she's done with your shit.

Ducktail Colin visits Cousin, and Penny desperately tries to cockblock him. It's somewhat painful to see, but also strangely realistic (I guess that's why it's painful).

Uuuh, we get a kitchen scene in preparation for the wedding! I love it. Also, the servants are annoyed by all of this, just like me. I hereby petition to replace at least 75% of the D&D (hell, make it all Bridgertons) appearances by Regency food porn.

At the dressmaker's workshop Cressida (who I still think is prettier than Daphne) bitches about and Daphne bitches back, why is no-one wearing bonnets?

The next Whistledown issue is out as Freddie takes his final bow just to leave me heartbroken because he genuinely didn't suck. The Queen bitches, what else is new.

The Archbishop says the early wedding is a no-no, and I still suspect that it's a general case of making things more dramatic than they have to be. Oh, turns out it's the Queen who's the spanner in the works because she didn't get enough attention lately.

Back to the Bohemian party! Yay! It's a fucking bacchanal and I love it. French dressmaker lady is there, too, cut to her and Middle Bridgerbro having a heated make-out session. Aaand the host is at least bi – they find out by barging in on him and his lover during what I guess is the quest for an unoccupied bedroom. Threesome time!! (Her stays are more than questionable, though)

Dukey is completely drunk in the gutter because they kicked him out of the pub. I approve. Not sure of what of the above, probably all.

Cousin plots to seduce Ducktail Colin so she can get him into marrying her. Lady F is in, but Penny eavesdrops (heartbrokenly).

Whoooo, it's George III! Him and Charlotte discuss the Regent but sadly George IV still does not feature. Another child (Amelia) is discussed – never mind that the historical George III and Charlotte had no less than fifteen children – but apparently she's dead (the historical Amelia died age 27 and it distressed George greatly, but here it is delivered as if she was just an infant.). Oh, look, George is bonkers and thinks the Queen killed her. Nice one, Netflix, treating his illness like this and then completely glossing over it again.

Daphne, please stop tossing and turning and sighing, get yourself off, it works wonders. But no, instead she goes to her lady's maid and gets a pep talk about how she can still be happy without offspring.

Cut to Dukey waking up in Boxing Bro's place.

People I'd rather have a series about. A non-exhaustive list by me.

Penny and Eloise

Eloise

Benedict & The Bohemians (could also be a good band name)

Prince Freddie

Boxing Bro and his family

Opera Girl & The French Dressmaker

Cressida the Rival Bitch

The Servants

Dukey's exploits at college

Daphne's dress at her audience is so horribly ill-fitting.

How can Dukey be a rake if he doesn't even like flirting? It it pheromones? Do the ladies simply fall over when he walks by? The heck? Someone explain! His appeal to the Queen, however, is really lovely, no shade.

The wedding is LAUGHABLY small. Nobody would ever get through with this. You can't tell me they couldn't fill a small chapel like that, at least with some staff. It is supposed to be "intimate", because you guys are Regency nobility and this will not stand. Good God, Daphne, he's putting a ring on your finger, not his body parts inside of you.

However, the reception is huge. This does not make sense, except from a very American modern standpoint. I'm here for the food porn, though.

At the party Cressida bitches about and Penny (again, desperately) tries to hook up Cousin with anyone but Ducktail Colin. Eloise is still trying to figure out who Gossip Girl really is.

Cousin Wears-Curtains-Again tries to seduce Ducktail Colin in the study, alas, he's too honourable, but wants to marry her nevertheless, but he wants to wait. She can't wait, though, because of the pregnancy thing, oh no!

The Queen is at the reception, too. You can't tell me that the woman who tried to intervene with the getting wed thing as a whole because she didn't get enough attention is okay with being at the reception and not the church? 'scuse me? What is a characterisation, even.

Turns out Lady Danbury (remember, Dukey's awesome fairy godmother) isn't Whistledown, but the Queen is intrigued by Eloise's investigations. Also, Middle Bridgerbro had a threesome with not only the Dressmaker but also his (hopefully bi, because representation, probably gay because cliché) host's wife. Awkward to meet her again on your sister's wedding day.

Daphne gets THE TALK from Lady B, whose boobs are glorious in this scene, but honestly, couldn't you have done that on any other day?

I cannot bear to watch this while I'm eating.

Is Daphne going to wear her hair up now that she's married, at least?

Sappy goodbyes ensue as Dukey and Daphney go off to their honeymoon. Her cloak looks like a bedsheet.

How is this episode not over yet?

Oh no, they'll spend their wedding night at and inn rather than at a palace. Awkward silence ensues on the ride there, but the landscape and the inn are pretty.

Man, that centre part and those bangs look so. Bad.

They have separate bedrooms, which is a bit weird but so is this whole inn business. *shrugs * Daphne paces in hers, Dukey in his, and this writer is reminded of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Drama. Ugh. Communication is key.

Here we go with the make-up sex, though, and here we also go with the soft porn my best friend already warned me ab... no fucking shift! Are these stays laced with satin ribbon?

Oh look, it's Dukey topless again. Daphne's face just annoys me to no end. I'm so sorry because she really can't do anything about it, she was born with it, but it annoys me.

Uh, Dukey butt! I have the sudden urge to burst into "First Penis" from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. They really made a song for every occasion.

Dukey, couldn't you have started with your hands? What is a foreplay? "Hey, girl, remember when I told you to get yourself off? This is basically the same!" *inserts genitals * It's fairly tastefully shot soft porn, though.

I don't think she came. How about oral now?

God, we made it into the second half of this series.

Give me strength.

This concludes Episode 5.

To Be Continued

(maybe with female orgasms?)

#Bridgerbore #Bridgerton #recap #uuugh

[spaceskam]

Make All The Madness Go Away (a buffy au)

Day 1 of Michael Guerin Week: Welcome to the party

Special thanks to @tempest-nova for giving me the idea of Michael as Spike and @michaels-blackhat for listening to me ramble for hours about it before i never brought it up again because i didn’t want to be annoying 

ao3

“I didn’t say it was bad, I said it wasn’t my type of thing.”

“What do you mean? You’re the Slayer! Xena should be your queen! Oh my god, I feel like I don’t even know you!”

Liz snorted as she let Maria continue to ramble on about the cultural significance of Xena: The Warrior Princess. She could understand that having strong, powerful women in media was important, but Liz was already living that life. She didn’t want to go home and watch more of it.

Somewhere during Maria’s empowering and distracting speech, a car sped right past them and almost hit them. Liz scoffed and prepared to yell after it, but she was stopped when it slammed right into a tree. Her eyes widened.

“Shit,” Maria breathed and they shared a single look before running towards the smoking wreckage. So much for patrolling.

Liz and Maria checked the window of the backseat first, making sure there were no children before they moved to the front. The driver seemed to be conscious, haphazardly pawing at the door handle. When she tried the door, it was jammed closed, so she used a little bit of Slayer strength to rip it open. The driver spilled out and Liz caught him. He gave a bloody smile.

“Slayer, my hero,” he said, “Long time no see.”

Liz let him fall to the pavement.

“Maria,” she called, double-checking to make sure she was okay. She came around the car to stand beside her, both women staring at the laughing figure on the ground. He had long, unruly curls that were splayed around his head on the ground and was wearing all black head to toe, even down to the leather duster and combat boots. “Who are you?” Liz demanded.

He rolled over, still laughing as he dragged himself to his feet. Liz instinctively pushed Maria behind her, putting space between her and whatever this thing was who knew her.

“Oh, don’t you remember me? Wait, wait, wrong species, Slayers don’t pass on their memories. Whoops,” he chuckled, spitting blood on the ground and dusting himself off, “Oh well, perfect timing. I was indeed looking for you and your rag-tag team of hooligans.”

Liz narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you be looking for me?”

He blinked all innocently and gave a smile. He pushed his hair to the side before gesturing to himself then doing a little twirl whenever she still didn’t seem to recognize him.

“Do they teach you anything? I would’ve thought you’d at least hear about me. Michael the Brilliant?” he asked wistfully. She still didn’t know “I know at least one book said I was possessed by the most wrathful demon God ever banished so they called me Rath. Does that ring a bell?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on!” Michael, apparently, whined, “I killed four Slayers and I don’t even get credit?”

Liz slowly felt for the stake in her back pocket. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you in Roswell?” Liz demanded. She didn’t need to know any more about this vampire. He clearly was overconfident and that meant he needed to go. But she also needed to make sure he didn’t have others like him just floating around Roswell.

“Funnily enough, I need your assistance. Since you’re so kind to Maxwell, I figured you might extend that kindness,” he said, that charming smile on display. Liz furrowed her eyebrows even more and felt Maria grab her arm.

“You know Max?” Liz asked, refusing to show any weakness even if she was curious.

“Oh, Slayer,” Michael laughed, “I just told you I’ve killed four of you! Do you think I did that with no research? I’m almost flattered,” he hummed. However, when she didn’t respond, he grew a bit more serious. “We have been laying low for nearly five decades. I never intended to have to even go out again, but my sister is ill. The last Slayer I killed poisoned her and she has been slowly deteriorating. The only way to heal her is with the assistance of someone who has access to the Watcher’s Council. I would never seek you out otherwise, Slayer.” Oddly enough, he sounded sincere.

“And why would I help you?” she asked, looking him up and down. She gripped the stake. Sincere or not, she didn’t trust him. Especially not to do something as stupid as saving another vampire.

“Ask your boyfriend.”

In that moment, Liz quickly pulled the stake out and went to bury it in his chest. Except it didn’t. Instead, with the flick of his wrist, he had it flying across the parking lot. Liz blinked a few times and for the first time in a long time, she was scared.

“Did I forget to mention I dabble in the arts? You really should never mix the two forces. But you should've seen their faces when they tried to hang me during the trails,” Michael laughed all over again. Liz was brought a little comfort when Maria started murmuring in Latin.

Within a few minutes, Michael’s body slammed against the smoking car. He smiled. Even though Maria was holding in place, Liz made sure to keep firmly between them.

“Mm, another witch. We share blood, don’t we?” Michael said, humming as he happily relaxed in the hold Maria had on him, “I feel you, Enchantress. Your Slayers feeds you well. And how does that feel? To be more powerful than a Slayer. The Slayer. The legendary Elizabeth. The one to close the Hellmouth. You make her weak in comparison. You… Your power,” Michael let out a low chuckle, his eyes falling closed and Liz’s nose began to scrunch up in disgust, “My God, your power.”

Maria thankfully let him go before it got too weird, but he didn’t move from his place against the car.

“I’m not that powerful,” Maria said and Liz put her arm in front of her so she wouldn’t get closer.

Michael smiled, staring at her with half-lidded eyes. “But you are. I could teach you how to find it, but I’m sure you’re aware. You already hide it so well‒I couldn’t even feel it until you let me. Fuck…”

Liz looked over at Maria who seemed unsettlingly neutral about the way the demon was acting. When she looked back at him, he’d lulled his head to the side and was staring at her with those same eyes. It made her far more uncomfortable than it made Maria.

“Poor little Slayer,” he sang, letting out a teasing laugh. But then he shook it away, standing straighter. “We’re staying at an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. All the windows are blacked out, you can’t miss it. Goodbye, Slayer. Enchantress.”

With a dramatic twirl of his coat, Michael the Brilliant disappeared into the night.

-

“He called himself Michael the Brilliant. He said a few books refer to him as Rath, though. Have you ever heard of him?”

Liz watched as Mimi DeLuca’s face hardened. Bingo.

“Stay away from him,” Mimi said simply. Times like these, when Liz agreed full-heartedly, she actually enjoyed having a Watcher. “He’s bad news.”

“He didn’t seem that bad,” Maria said absentmindedly, clearly embarrassed by her opinion on the man. Liz honestly agreed that she should be embarrassed. Michael was sketchy at best, genuinely terrifying at worst. she didn't want any of her friends around him or his supposed sister.

"Crypto-pedia says his estimated rebirth was 1690 and his standard M.O. is luring young witches by telling them he can train them. Ironically, I think feeding on them helps him develop more powers that help him feel the power that witches radiate," Alex recited. Mimi scoffed as she leaned over his shoulder.

"They have a whole page on him? I really wish I had the internet when I was doing Watcher's schooling," she mused. However, when she turned back to them, she was serious once again. "Like I said-Maria, stay away from him. He's got over three decades of experience seducing witches."

"Also a big history of killing Slayers. Killed his first one in 1691. He was a baby when he took her down," Alex scoffed, shaking his head, "Be careful, Liz."

"We're just going to stay away from him. We'll deal with him if he approaches us but we're not going to seek him out," Mimi insisted. Liz chewed on her lip as she debated telling them what he'd said about Max. She was going to just wait and talk to Max about it first, but it was important information.

"Oh, shit," Alex cursed and for a moment she thought it was because Kyle was drooling on his textbook, but soon saw an old painting displayed on the computer screen. It was of three figures covered in blood.

The one in the front and on his knees was Michael, managing to look seductive even with his face contorted and his teeth bared. Over his shoulder stood Max so very clearly, his teeth just as on display and pure violence in his eyes despite the fact he was covered in less blood than the other two. Above both men was a nearly blindingly gorgeous woman. she was in all white, unlike Max and Michael, and blood was covering the entire front of her dress. Her face was relaxed completely, her eyes half-lidded. Just staring at a painting felt intoxicating.

And that must be his allegedly ill sister.

"Man, this Michael guy really is hot. In like a kill-me-in-my-sleep, rip-my-throat-out kinda way," Alex commented.

"Sweetie, none of what you just said is hot," Mimi said, shaking her head as she stared at the painting in distaste, "This is the Regency of the Restoration. Basically, they were so prolific in the late 1600s/early 1700s that they have paintings and songs about them. Most of them were lost. This painting... I actually think Isobel stole it."

"She did."

Everyone in the room turned to see Max standing in the doorway. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, something between dread and embarrassment scrawled across his features.

"Why are you looking into Michael and Isobel?" he asked quietly, not moving from where he was as if he was scared to get too close.

After seeing that painting, Liz was glad he kept his distance.

She knew of his past, of how he was before he got cursed with a soul. He was vile, vicious, and idolized for it. Liz would never be over the way books constantly spoke of him and said they were demonizing him while glorifying it. It was like Michael‒they did horrible things to be known. Why would you grant them that?

"Michael approached me," Liz said firmly, eying him as he neared her. She couldn't see it like Alex saw it as much as she wished she could. The idea of him covered in someone's blood made her stomach turn.

Max scowled harshly. "He did what?"

"What?" Kyle echoed as he chose now to wake up. Alex shushed him softly, but Liz never took her eyes off of Max and he never looked away from her either.

"He's in Roswell?" Max asked, seeming oblivious. Liz clenched her jaw and took a slow breath. "Why did he approach you? What did he say? Did he hurt y‒Maria, did he hurt you?" Liz was brought a little comfort by how concerned he seemed. It reminded her that he wasn't like that anymore. He had morals.

"No, he didn't. Honestly, he didn't even try," Maria informed him. Max's eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "He said his sister is sick and needs the assistance of a Slayer. Well, actually just someone who can get him the antidote for whatever the Watchers poisoned her with."

Max nodded slowly, bracing himself against the wall and his eyes turning to the floor. Liz waited patiently for him to decide what to say because she didn't really have many questions. She only had one: how did they get him to leave Roswell. She had no intention to help.

"She's sick?" Max asked, pain lacing his tone and Liz felt a bit of panic rise in her, "Sick enough that he'd approach a Slayer? No, okay, I need to go see her, did he say where they were?"

"Max, seriously? Who are these people to you? Why do you care if she's sick? It looks like you knew them back when you were... not yourself, why do you care about them no?" Liz demanded. Apparently, she had more questions than she realized.

Max squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his hand over his face. She waited. They all waited.

"They're my family," Max said simply even though there was nothing simple about what he'd just said. No one spoke. They could've heard a pin drop. "Stop looking at me like that, just... just give me a moment."

"A moment? Every other vampire that we've come across that you knew in the past, you've grown to hate them. Now these two, these vampires who were clearly the worst of them all, come back and you say they're your family?" Liz insisted. It would've been different if maybe he'd mentioned them, but he hadn't. They had never been around and Michael had said they were flying under the radar for decades. This didn't make any sense.

"Isobel was my actual, biological sister," he said, annoyance written across his face, "Our mother died during childbirth and we were basically on our own after that. Because of that, we got affiliated with the wrong people and started going to feeder's dens by the time we were 16. Obviously, that's a slippery slope and we both got turned within a few years."

Max crossed the room, slumping in a chair in the middle of everyone since he knew he was clearly telling a tale they all were eager to hear.

"We were... angry, I guess. Maybe it was from when we were human and it carried over, but we felt entitled. For years we had been denied everything because of our status, but we now had something where they couldn't tell us no. We attacked many people that had wronged us in life or even just seemed the type who would have. Isobel was really good at luring disgusting men in with her beauty and she'd rip them apart as payback for what they'd done to her when she was a little girl."

"If you're trying to make us think that what you two did wasn't all that bad, you're wasting your time," Liz said curtly. He looked up at her like a wounded puppy, but she wasn't going to let that face affect her this time. She'd done so far too many times before.

"That's not what I'm trying to do, Liz," he sighed, shaking his head, "I'm just saying... We were close. We always had been, she's apart of me and I'm apart of her."

"Okay, where does Michael come into this?" Maria asked. Mimi was standing off on the side, her face hardened as if she already knew everything. That was only slightly annoying.

"I was given my soul in 1688 and Isobel and I moved to a small town in Masechuttseus. She wasn't a fan of me being, well, more human, but she put up with it because we're all we had. And we met Michael in that town. He reminded me of myself, just a kid who was abandoned and struggling to survive. So we took him in."

"Two vampires took in a human? How quaint," Kyle snorted. Max seemed to fight the urge to be annoyed. He didn't really have the right to do that right now.

"He needed shelter and I wanted to do better, so I gave it to him and tried to protect him from a life like mine. I wanted to help, not hurt. Only, Isobel didn't trust him. She became so paranoid that he was going to betray us and get us killed or something no matter how hard he tried to please her. And he did try hard to please her. He saw her as something of a mother figure he never had and spent day in and day out catering to her, but she took it as him having devious intentions. Then, in 1690, when the Slayer of that time had been making noise around our town, she was convinced he had sent for her to kill us. So she turned him because then he could no longer out us without outing himself," Max explained. Liz could feel her face being taken over with disgust at this woman that Max clearly seemed to care about. How could he still care for someone who murdered a boy you took in to protect?

"Jesus," Alex cursed, the only one who had it in him to say anything.

"I-I don't actually know what happened to him after that," Max sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, "I obviously know that he lost his soul, but I didn't expect him to... Basically, his already unhealthy obsession with pleasing Isobel was heightened. His loyalty to her is something I've never seen before. He was barely fully turned when he went after the Slayer for her. I wish I could tell you how he did it, but I don't know. I just know he managed to kill her and brought her body to Isobel as a present.

"I didn't know what to do about it. They're my family, they're important to me, but they were becoming calculated killers and I just couldn't take being around that. I tried to explain to them that it wasn't okay, that I couldn't be around it. And... they tried to stop. Sort of. Michael started specifically targeting witches and he'd bring them back to Isobel to drain together, but it wasn't as common as before so I tried to take it as a step in the right direction. Eventually, though, they started gaining powers that they got from the witches. I guess I shouldn't have stuck around once it got to that point, but I was stuck. It took me a century before I finally realized they weren't going to stop. The guilt of standing by as they lured girls in was rivaling how much I love them, so I left. I've tried to keep tabs on them, but they'd been hard to find for the last few decades. I don't even think they're really killing much anymore, but I'm not sure. I haven't seen them since the turn of the 20th century."

Everyone was silent as they tried to make what they could from the story, but Liz focused hard on Max. He took a slow, almost pained breath as he dared to look up at her.

"But she's really sick?"

Liz hated herself for a moment, hated how she resigned to desperately wanting to make him look less broken. She was so desperate that she was actually considering helping a vampire who was known for being horrifically violent and apparently manipulative. No matter how hard she tried to shake away that feeling, she was confronted with an overwhelming need to make him feel better. She hated how pained he looked.

"Michael said the last Slayer he killed poisoned Isobel with something the Watcher's Council made and that she's been slowly deteriorating since," Liz said softly. Max scoffed, shaking his head before he dropped it into his palms.

"That was 50 years ago. She's been sick for half a century and they haven't tried to reach out to me," Max said. Liz gravitated towards him, her hand touching his shoulder as she looked up to the rest of the people in the room. They clearly didn't feel as sympathetic as she did, but why should they? “I understand if you don’t want to help them, but I have to. No matter what, they’re my family.”

"So are we,” Liz stated firmly, “What should we do?" Alex and Kyle shared a look not too unlike the look Mimi and Maria shared. She knew that they didn't really want to do anything, thinking it was too dangerous. "It's his family. That makes it a little different than just some random vampires."

"They're dangerous, Liz," Kyle said carefully, "Maybe he was civil when he came to ask you for help, but that doesn't mean it's going to stay that way."

"We could go meet them, like, all of us. Somewhere on even ground so we can feel out the situation and see if she's actually sick and if they're actually that dangerous," Alex suggested, though even he sounded hesitant, "If he says they've dialed down their killings, it's worth a shot to check it out. If it's bad, then we figure out how to run them out of town."

"I don't want Maria anywhere near him," Mimi said firmly, shaking her head, "You all can go if you want, but not her."

Maria didn't argue.

"How does that sound, Max?" Liz asked him softly. He looked torn as he looked around the room.

"I'll protect you all if he gets out of hand," he said firmly, "But I would appreciate your help."

"Okay then," Liz said even though she felt this was the beginning to a very risky situation, "Let's do this."

-

The first thing Alex saw when they walked into the demon bar was Michael.

And apparently, the first thing Michael saw was Alex.

"And who is this?" Michael said the moment they walked up. The way he was staring at Alex had him feeling insecure in a way he hated and desperately tried to push away. He kept his face firm as Michael stood up, circling him like prey. "What are you?"

"Human," Alex said, eyeing Max and Liz who seemed to be watching Michael with nothing but annoyance.

"No," Michael whispered, his breath hot on Alex's neck which sent shivers down his spine and a million waves of confusion to his mind. He didn't know vampires had breath, much less hot breath. "What are you?"

"I told you," Alex said sternly, "Human."

Michael paused in front of him, letting out a huffed laugh. "There's no way. That energy you give off..."

"Michael, stop it," Max sighed. Michael looked to him with furrowed brows.

"I'm serious, you don't feel that? What is that? How are you human?" Michael said, moving closer to Alex once again. He felt predatory in a way that had Alex feeling a little more into it than he wanted to admit. Why did he have to be so damn hot? "I don't understand how you can be human and yet make me feel so‒"

"Michael," Max snapped, "Stop trying that shit on him."

"I'm not!" Michael responded defensively, though a small smirk played on his lips as he leaned back against the bar. "Though I definitely want to. It's not my fault your entire Slayer’s Brigade is gorgeous."

"Alex," Liz ordered, gesturing for him to go stand behind her. He obliged, although requiring a bit of tugging from Kyle to make it all the way. He couldn't take his eyes off of Michael.

"Where is Isobel?" Max demanded eventually and Michael managed to look away from Alex which only had him feeling slightly upset. It was like he just then registered that Max was actually there. He blinked at him a few times and his cocky smirk was all but completely gone.

“She can’t leave the house. She’s too weak,” Michael answered, “Where you been, Maxwell? I know you have been with this Slayer lately, but what about before?”

“You knew I was around.”

“Isobel needed you and you weren’t there,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head, “You’re a shit brother.”

“Why did you seek our help if you were just going to be a complete asshole to us?” Max demanded. Alex tried to care, he really did, but he really wanted to focus on what Michael meant. What feeling to he give off? He wanted to know.

“I don’t want your help. I have no choice. And I need the Slayer’s help, not yours,” he spat, shaking his head. Alex felt an inexplicable need to make him stop looking so irritated. It was more uncomfortable than the smirking. “I don’t know why we even met here. We can’t fucking help Isobel here.”

“We’re here because they aren’t sure if we should help you. You have no proof that Isobel is actually sick,” Max said, though they all knew Max believed she was. They had prepared before meeting him, pouring over every little detail they could find about the Watchers as well as what Mimi knew herself. None of them could find even a mention of a serum, not even something that was in the works to be tested. Not even Alex, who was very good at hacking into all the systems the Watchers had, couldn’t find a damn thing.

“Why the fuck would I be here if she wasn’t?” Michael snapped, looking angry and desperate. He had to reel himself back in, taking a deep breath and through gritted teeth. “Listen, I just need whatever fancy antidote they have.”

“There isn’t one,” Alex said simply. Michael shot his gaze back to him, his jaw clenched as he waited for Alex to keep talking. For some stupid reason, Alex didn’t find him that scary. He reminded him of just a big dog who needed a little more friendship. “Are you sure it was the Watchers who poisoned her?”

“Who else would it be?” he asked, “No offense, but the typical Slayer is all brawn and no brain.”

“Well, I’m not your typical Slayer,” Liz shot back. Michael smiled tightly, hardly taking his eyes off of Alex again.

“We know that.”

“Alright, I’m going to come and see what I can find out,” Liz decided firmly. Max looked at her like she’d lost it.

“If you go in there, she’ll kill you,” Max told her.

“No she won’t, she can’t,” Michael argued.

“Have her mental abilities lessened?” Max asked. Michael didn’t say anything. “See? No, you’re not going there, Liz. She can and will do something to you, especially if it was a Slayer that harmed her.”

“Well, I don’t want you going by yourself there, you’re too emotion I don’t trust them,” Liz argued, “Someone else from our team needs to go and the only person I trust not to get killed is myself.”

“Little Alex can come too,” Michael suggested, grinning slowly. Which, honestly, sounded like a good idea to him even if Liz and Kyle immediately jumped in to protest. Alex had spent the last two days researching the two of them endlessly. He’d known everything they’d done that had ever been recorded‒and most of their movements had been recorded. They were infamous.

“Max and I can go,” Alex agreed, “I make sure he isn’t in cahoots with them and he can make sure they don’t kill me.” Michael broke out into a smile.

“Cahoots,” he repeated softly, his tongue dragging his bottom lip in between his teeth as he shook his head and chuckled to himself.

“And if he is in cahoots with them, you will be murdered by three vampires,” Kyle pointed out.

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” Michael laughed. No one else found that funny, so he held up his hands in defense. “Look, not gonna let anyone lay a finger or fang on his pretty little body. Too intrigued by his whole vibe to let that happen.”

“What vibe?” Alex asked before he could stop himself. Michael shrugged and shook his head.

“If I knew I’d tell you.”

“So, that’s the plan then? We’re trusting three vampires with Alex?” Kyle sighed softly. Alex and Michael nodded at the same time which caused the vampire to smile.

Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t eager to go.

-

“Isobel’s in the back room.”

Max immediately followed the instruction which led to Alex being left all alone with Michael. He watched the vampire make himself at home, seeming weirdly human as he took off the steam-punk boots to reveal colorful socks. Alex smiled mockingly at them, one bright orange with cats and the other a baby blue with a cartoon whale saying ‘having a whale of a time’. Michael flopped himself onto the couch, wiggling his toes as he grinned Alex’s way.

“Come here,” Michael urged. Alex shook his head with the same smile as he began to look around the room. It was pretty modern for a vampire den: working electricity, a kitchen, a TV, and even a laptop in the corner.

Alex kept himself aware even when he wasn’t directly looking at him. While he wasn’t scared of him, he also wasn’t about to be caught off guard. That had happened one too many times before. Since he was aware, he didn’t even flinch at the animalistic movements Michael made as he crawled to the other side of the couch and climbed skillfully to the recliner, leaning over the back to intrude on Alex’s space.

“Can I taste you?” he suddenly requested. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and leaned away to get a good look at his face.

“No,” Alex said, “Literally why would I say yes to that?”

“I want to know what you are,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “It’s driving me mad. I just know if I taste you I’ll understand more.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t bite me,” Alex said, walking towards the couch, “And if you do anyway, I will kill you.”

“Why would I do it anyway? That takes the fun out of it, I like when people want it,” he said softly, still eyeing Alex like he was so fucking confused. Alex was torn between loving it and hating it.

“How do you somehow have better morals than some people who have souls?”

“Good question.”

Alex peered towards the door that Max had gone through. It was shut tight. Clearly, they weren’t watching each other like Liz had insisted. Oh well. They could lie.

“Put your blood in a cup so I can taste. No biting involved,” Michael suggested, suddenly in front of him again.

“Good suggestion, but no,” Alex said, circling to the front of the couch. Michael’s gaze stayed firmly on him, following each and every movement.

“You can do it when I’m not in the room so there’s no temptation.”

“Why do you care so much?” Alex asked. While he was slightly curious as to what Michael meant by everything, he wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it when it was probably an elaborate excuse to get him to agree to being bitten. Michael huffed an annoyed breath, but never gave an answer.

They walked around in silence for a moment, still eyeing each other despite the distance between them. Michael was annoyingly attractive and, even in the light, could easily be mistaken for human. The longer they stared, the more comfortable he got with it. He knew the staring likely would’ve pissed off Liz and Kyle and Maria and Mimi. Honestly, probably Max too. He wasn’t so negative.

“I got it,” Michael suddenly said, jumping over the couch and grabbing Alex’s hand. He pulled him quickly through the door to the room Max and Isobel were in, throwing him in front of him the moment they got through. “Izzy! What is he?”

Alex felt the floor drop from beneath him as he became the sole focus of Isobel. Her paintings and descriptions did her no justice. She was nothing short of ethereal. It was impossible not to look at her and let her engulf you with her wide eyes and penetrating gaze.

She wore a long, deep red robe tied around an equally as red slip and her hair seemed skillfully unkempt. While Michael seemed human on some level, Isobel didn’t seem to share that. She was purely otherworldly, but not quite animalistic. She neared Alex with deliberate movements, slow and inhuman. She touched Alex’s cheek and if she asked him anything in the world, he would have surrendered.

“Human,” she decided in a careful voice, pushing on his jaw to face Michael, “He’s human.”

“What?” Michael demanded, sounding more than a little annoyed, “That doesn’t make any sense, he‒”

“Michael,” Max said firmly, “You and Alex need to go, we were speaking.” Michael’s eyebrows slowly pulled together in a level of hurt he couldn’t hide.

“This is my house, I can‒”

“Michael,” Max said, louder this time. Alex found it quite interesting how different Michael became when he was in the same room with both Max and Isobel. He wasn’t the powerful, power-reading, telekinetic vampire. He was suddenly just a boy who had been on the receiving end of a neverending Us vs. You situation.

“You can go,” Isobel said, lightly pushing his jaw towards Michael.

Once they were back into the main room, Alex had to give himself a moment to readjust. All the research he’d done made it clear that, due to the way he was feeling, Isobel had probably just gotten into his mind. Which was terrifying. It made Michael cornering him against the wall much less terrifying in comparison.

“You can’t be human,” Michael accused, breathing heavy in residual anger, “I swear to fuck, I can feel you. I feel you.”

Alex couldn’t find it in him to be scared as Michael pushed further into his space. He knew he should be. He wasn’t. But it was a distraction for the fuzziness in his mind and that made it easy to play along.

“Maybe all you feel is that I’m the only one who isn’t scared of you,” Alex said back. Michael took a deep, grounding breath and that easy, suave smile found its place outside of his anger.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve done my research on you. I know everything there is to know about you,” Alex admitted. Michael’s eyes flickered across his face and lingered on his lips just long enough to have Alex’s mind wandering a bit too much.

“Everything?”

“Everything,” Alex confirmed, his voice matching Michael’s low pitch. The smirk and the half-lidded eyes on the vampire’s face was something out of a wet dream he didn’t know he’d have. “Which means I know how your powers work, I know how quick your reaction time is, and I know I’m quicker.” Michael leaned closer, their chests meeting.

“Yeah?”

“I could kill you if I really wanted. It’d be easy,” Alex told him though he knew he was probably lying. While he was indeed quick, vampires much less dangerous than him had put Alex in the hospital. But, honestly, he wasn’t Michael’s type of victim and he wasn’t one to expand. He’d had a type since he turned.

“We should spar sometime and put your money where your pretty little mouth is,” Michael suggested.

“Maybe we should.”

“Will you get away from him,” Max snapped out of nowhere, grabbing Michael by the neck and physically pulling Michael off him.

“Get the fuck off me!” Michael shouted, twisting out of Max’s hold and glaring at him. Alex watched the metaphorical pissing contest unfold between them.

“Liz is going to kill you if you get that close to him again,” Max threatened, eyeing Michael like he was nothing more than scum, “And I’ll be happy when she does.”

Michael stared at him for a minute before swiftly turning and stalking away. Alex looked at Max with furrowed brows. He hadn’t really seen an inherently aggressive side to the man. Something about Michael and Isobel must have brought it out of him. He still had the audacity to look apologetic about Michael’s actions.

Oddly enough, Alex left that day feeling bad for him.

-

“We’re doing what?”

Alex rolled his eyes at Max’s tone. He was becoming more and more annoyed with him by the day. It didn’t help that Michael was around more to help find the antidote to whatever that one particular Watcher had conjured up along with helping both Alex and Kyle get better at fighting against vampires. The more Alex warmed to Michael, the more Max irritated him.

“It’s a good idea,” Michael chimed in. He was sprawled on the couch in the back of the magic shop, his feet firmly in Alex’s lap. Mimi had Maria as far away from him as possible, but even she had warmed to him a bit. Max was the only one left with a major problem.

“There is nothing good about it.”

“Max,” Liz said firmly, “We are breaking into a paranoid ex-Watcher’s house that is vamp-proofed. The only reason you’re coming is to stand guard with Kyle. Mimi and Maria can’t stay because they have to charm the Watcher. I need both Alex and Michael here because Alex is the only one who can even hack into his security system and he’s the one in control of the camera that Michael will be using as eyes to get the serum without disturbing the literal spikes around it. Do you hear a way there would be anyone else to babysit Michael and Alex?”

Max looked very annoyed he wasn’t getting his way. He glared at Michael which obviously made him tense. Alex mindlessly rubbed his ankle.

“Listen,” Michael said, that cocky little smirk on his face as he tried not to get angry, “I am the first person to agree that I’m dangerous and probably shouldn’t be trusted with certain people, but my little Alex here is not one of them. I wouldn’t lay a fang on him.” Max looked like he was going to kill him.

“I don’t like this.”

“Why are you so protective of Alex all of the sudden?” Liz demanded, turning to him completely.

“It’s not just of Alex, I don’t trust him around any of you, but he’s taken a liking to Alex which is not okay,” Max accused.

“Alex can handle himself,” Kyle jumped in.

“Alex can speak for himself,” Alex sighed, trying hard not to roll his eyes, “Listen, he hasn’t hurt any of us yet, why are you so certain that’ll change when we’re alone?”

“Because I know him. He’s manipulative and selfish. We’re giving him what he wants!”

“It’s also what you want, Max,” Liz said, crossing her arms over her chest, “We gave you a chance and you’ve done worse than him.”

Max didn’t have an answer. Alex squeezed Michael’s ankle.

“Right. Everyone meet back here at 10 PM to put the plan into action.”

The room quickly cleared out, leaving Michael and Alex alone as if they weren’t just arguing about it. Alex turned to face the vampire.

“You were awfully quiet during that,” he pointed out. Michael breathed in slow, a smirk forming on his face.

“You don’t like when I get into it, so I’m trying to do better,” he answered. Alex snorted.

“You didn’t get in a fight just because I don’t like it?” Alex clarified. Michael shrugged his shoulders, eyeing him. “Man, you keep doing stuff like that and I’m gonna start thinking you like me.”

Michael grunted softly in amusement, a predatory look taking over his face before it transformed into that of a vampire. His teeth were bared and he was sitting so close, but Alex just smiled at him.

“Gonna go kill some shit before 10, gotta make sure Isobel’s fed. See you then,” Michael spoke easily, getting up and leaving without another word.

Alex shook his head with a smile before getting up and preparing the camera and microphone he’d be hooking up to Liz.

-

“Okay, be careful.”

“I am being careful.”

“I literally don’t think you’re ever careful.”

Michael chuckled lowly as he listened to Alex and Liz argue while she walked through the Watcher’s weird lab. The man was almost 95 years old, but apparently, he was still batshit crazy enough to have a fully functioning chem lab where he brewed serums to kill vampires. Isobel had just gotten a very early version of it and it was the only reason she’d made it 50 years.

“Okay, disable this,” Liz said softly. Michael watched as Alex did some fancy, smart shit that went over his head. Alex was impressive.

Michael leaned closer to him, eyes drifting from Alex’s work on the computer to his collarbone. His skin was tan and seemingly flawless, every curve of his body just as perfect. It was hard to stay away, even harder the more he stared.

He had no intention to bite him and he had no desire to either. Occasionally Maria would catch his eye and Kyle would annoy him to the point that he considered it, but the Slayer, the Watcher, and Alex were all tolerable. Alex was more than tolerable. Alex was one of a kind, literally. In all his years alive, he’d never met someone as intoxicating as Alex. The only exception was Isobel, but he was drawn to them in very different ways.

“Stop,” Alex whispered, nudging Michael away as his nose grazed the hacker’s jaw. Michael blinked a few times, moving away just a little bit and just enough to see Alex’s sweet smile. “You’re up.”

Michael shook himself out of the trance he’d been in, looking towards the screen. The camera was pretty shitty quality, but it was enough that he could see what he was supposed to do. He focused as well as he could on the image of the little vile surrounded in complex spikes, watching it slowly be lifted and weaved through them like he wanted.

“Yes, you’re doing great,” Alex said softly, continuing to pour words of encouragement over him in a way he wasn’t used to. Though, everything Alex did were things he wasn’t used to.

The vile landed in Liz’s hand and Michael fell back in his chair, exhaustion overcoming him. He hated using his powers for that long because of how it made him feel, but it was so fucking worth it for Isobel’s safety and the proud smile Alex gave him.

“You did it,” Alex breathed out, mindlessly putting his hand on Michael’s thigh and squeezing. Michael smiled. Honest to god smiled. “Now get out of there, Liz.”

Alex turned off the camera and microphone once everyone made it safely into the car and started making the two-hour drive home. He leaned back with a satisfied little grin, letting his head drift to face Michael. He looked so stunning.

“So, you gonna kill me now?” Alex asked playfully. Michael snorted.

“Why would I do that?”

“You’re getting what you want. In a few hours, Isobel’s gonna be okay. You don’t have to stick around, much less leave us alive. Leave me alive,” Alex said, though this time he seemed a little more serious. “Are you going to leave?”

“Would you be upset if I did?” Michael asked. Alex chewed on his lip and Michael really wanted to do that himself.

“Depends, are you gonna kill me?” Alex asked. Michael shook his head.

“What would I get out of killing you before they hand over the serum?” he asked. Alex scoffed, laughing slightly.

“Jeez, you got a point, I guess,” he said, “Just thought we were friends.”

“You like being my friend?”

“Dude,” Alex laughed, “You’re here aren’t you?” Michael took in his pretty face and thought about what it would be like to stay. He had never really had friends before. He had Max and Isobel and Max didn’t really like him all that much. Here, he had Liz who willingly spoke to him about a bunch of different weapons and took his advice seriously. He had Mimi who, while still being wary of him with her daughter, still liked to hear how he melded witchcraft with the abilities that came with being a vampire. He had Kyle who was annoying as all hell, but who made for a fun sparring partner.

And he had Alex.

“So, tell me, if you stay, are you going to go after Maria?” Alex asked after a moment. Michael furrowed his eyebrows. “I mean, she’s your type. You gonna try to seduce her, drink her blood to power you up?”

“Yeah and have Mimi kill me? No,” Michael said simply, “Mimi is a whole lot more powerful than me and she’s a lot more trained than Maria. Maria has untapped power, but Mimi’s is like an open faucet. She could snap her fingers and snap my neck if she wanted to.”

“So you really can feel people’s powers like that?” Alex clarified. Michael nodded, still not being able to look away. Not that he wanted to. “So, what happens when you would seduce those girls back then? You’d just tell them they were powerful, sleep with them, eat them? Actually, can you even sleep with people? Does your heart even beat to make blood flow?”

Michael smirked, “Are you asking me if my dick works?” Alex paused and his cheeks turned pink before he just went with it and nodded. “Yeah, it does. But I usually didn’t sleep I’d lure in. It’s weird to have sex with your food.”

“Oh my god,” Alex laughed, shaking his head with a smile that was brighter than the sun. Maybe it would’ve burned if it didn’t feel so good. “You know, you’re a lot less crazy than you tried to seem like you were.”

“Sorry to let you down.”

“No, no, I like it. I like you like this.”

“You like me?”

“I like you,” Alex said firmly, “Why doesn’t Max?”

“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged. He hated that Max hated him. He’d spent so long trying to please both him and Isobel only to be shunned away by him. It was easier to just stop trying to please him. Alex smiled comfortingly.

“I think he’s jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” he snorted.

“That you don’t need a soul to be good.”

Michael couldn’t remember the last time some had thought he was good.

He moved forward without too much of a thought and grabbed Alex’s neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. It didn’t last long and he pulled away, preparing for Alex to tell him off or get awkward. Instead, Alex smiled and moved forward again.

It had been a really long time since he kissed anyone, at least 50 years. He was admitted rusty, but Alex didn’t seem to mind as he pulled him closer until they were both sitting on the edge of their chairs. Alex’s tongue slipped into his mouth without any hesitation and the level of trust he must’ve had in Michael didn’t go unnoticed. He felt like he was 17 and stupid again, desperately trying to move closer and trying to touch every inch he could.

Michael tugged on Alex’s waist in an attempt to get him closer and Alex chuckled into his mouth before just moving to straddle his lap. Michael moved back and pulled Alex with him, splaying his hands on the man’s back to hold him through the never-ending kisses. He didn’t want them to end. He wanted them forever.

“You taste so good,” Michael said before he could even control himself and Alex smirked, weaving his fingers through Michael’s hair.

“You didn’t even bite me.”

“I don’t need to.”

Michael dragged sloppy kisses across his jaw and then down his neck. He waited for Alex to deny him, to push him away in panic. He just knew that, while Alex seemed to trust him, there was no way he trusted him to be this close, to be able to feel his pulse against his teeth, and not throw him off. Except Alex, like always, subverted expectations and held him closer with a moan. He left soft bites between kisses, trailing his way back up to Alex’s lips with extra care that he didn’t puncture his flawless skin.

He left one last kiss to Alex’s lips before pulling away, keeping his forehead against the other man’s as he caught his breath.

“Why’d you stop?” Alex asked after a moment and Michael looked at him to see a level of mischief in his eyes that had him reeling. That vibe that he always got from Alex amplified in that moment, warm and encompassing that jumped from just his regular level of no fear to just overwhelming trust and desire. “We have an hour before we won’t get another moment alone for who knows how long. We should make the most of it.”

Michael agreed so easily and they made their way to the couch.

By the time the rest of the group got back, they had managed to look normal and like nothing had happened. Well, as normal as possible.

“Why are you smiling like that? You look insane,” Max scolded the minute he walked in and saw Michael. He was still fidgety with excitement from his afternoon, but he managed to taper it down so Max wouldn’t dig. He didn’t want to deal with the backlash without having a proper conversation.

“Sorry for being excited that my sister isn’t going to die,” Michael said, though his eyes drifted to Alex who was sitting in front of the computer. His thumb was lodged between his teeth, hiding his own smile. He shot a wink Michael’s way before standing up.

It became so clear to him at that moment that there was no way he could leave Roswell now.

“Alright, let’s go heal a murderous mind-controlling vampire.”

#mgweek19 #guerinweek19 #very shocked i finished this #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #buffy au #time for bed

[alexsfictionaddiction]

12 of the best feel-good books

I think we could all do with a pick-me-up right now. We’ve been in some level of isolation for over a month and we’re perhaps being forced to accept a new normal. However, we’re still seeing frightening and tragic headlines all day every day (ration your news time, if you’re not doing so already), so of course, fear and hopelessness is going to set in. If you’re not used to spending time alone, loneliness is also a huge possibility but we know that books are a great source of solace in times like this. 

Maybe you want to do your own research and discover how far into the realms of science-fiction we’ve got. For you, I have compiled a list of the best books that pandemic fiction has to offer but if you’re looking for something more light-hearted, I’ve got the perfect tonic. Whether you need a laugh, to be comforted or to simply remember what life used to be like, here are some books that will help you escape the current face of reality. Above all, remember that it’s perfectly natural for your mental health to be suffering at the moment. Do whatever you can to look after yourself and stay safe.

1. The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary

Remember when you could just move in with a stranger without worrying about keeping two metres apart at all times? Tiffy and Leon share a flat and even a bed but due to entirely opposite work schedules, they manage to not even meet for months after Tiffy moves in, only communicating via texts and notes left on the fridge. But Tiffy’s controlling ex-boyfriend and Leon’s innocent prisoner brother ignite a connection that is fuelled by basic human kindness and a touch of romantic attraction, of course! This quirky rom-com has been a bestseller for over a year now and it’s not hard to see why. It’s a celebration of love, friendship and the unexpected happiness that can come from taking calculated risks. Beth O’Leary’s second novel The Switch has also just been released, so there has never been a better time to read her debut!

2. Wonder by R. J. Palacio

A beautiful story of empathy, kindness and acceptance, Wonder has fast become one of the most popular and widely read contemporary middle-grade novels. Auggie Pullman was born with a facial deformity and he’s attending mainstream school for the first time but of course, kids can be staggeringly cruel to those who are different. Wonder kickstarted a global kindness campaign and spawned a film adaptation, which is one of the best and most faithful I’ve ever seen. It has already given so much to the world and I know you’ll get a lot of joy out of it too.

3. The Long Way To A Small Angry Planet by Becky Chambers

Of course, not all sci-fi is doom and gloom. This is the first instalment in Becky Chambers’ Wayfarers series and it’s laugh-out-loud funny. It follows a misfit crew of space travellers and their wonderful smile-inducing relationships. Celebrating the coming together of a variety of races, sexualities and personalities, it features a lot of loveable memorable characters who begin to read like dear loyal friends. If you’re looking for quirky, light-hearted sci-fi in a similar vein to Star Trek and Firefly, you’d be wise to start here.

4. Less by Andrew Sean Greer

Arthur Less is a struggling writer about to turn 50 and the love of his life is engaged to someone else. To say that he’s not feeling too hot right now would be an understatement but he has been invited to a range of literary events around the world, so he does the logical thing and accepts them all. We can’t travel right now but with Arthur, you’ll visit Paris, Berlin, southern India, the Moroccan desert and Japan. You’ll also go on a journey of self-acceptance, learn how to love the life that you have and appreciate the time you have left. 

5. Hot Mess by Lucy Vine

It’s rare that a book makes me guffaw out loud in public but Hot Mess did exactly that, when I read it a couple of years ago. Ellie is a single woman who hates her office job and is absolutely nowhere near having her life together. However, she does have some great friends and a lovely relationship with her dad Alan, whose drafts of a romance novel are truly side-splittingly hilarious. We see Ellie through terrible dates, trauma confrontation and a quest for true happiness that is hugely satisfying. It has been described as a modern-day Bridget Jones but I found it much more relatable and actually quite a lot funnier!

6. The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion

It’s the first in a trilogy of novels that explore the trials and tribulations of finding romance when you’re genetics professor Don Tillman. Don likes facts, logic and reason and he applies all of these things to his latest endeavour, The Wife Project. He knows exactly the kind of woman he wants to marry but then he meets Rosie, who ticks none of his boxes and he’s forced to accept that perhaps true love doesn’t always follow the rules. Don and Rosie’s relationship is such a heartwarming, mutually beneficial one that will make you laugh and leave you with a big bag of warm fuzzy feels. 

7. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien

There is a huge chance that you will have read The Hobbit but what better time to revisit a funny, charming favourite? Re-embark on the quest to retrieve Smaug’s treasure, take back the Lonely Mountain and make a plethora of fantastic friends along the way. As well as relating to Bilbo’s personal growth throughout the novel, I think the idea of facing epic threat and mortal peril in unknown environments and yet still returning safely home to a quiet comfortable life is the reassurance we need that this too shall pass. Of course, it will also be an intoxicating nostalgia trip, so there’s really no reason to not pick it up again!

8. The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams

I read this over the Valentine’s Day period and was so enchanted by it. Gavin is a top baseball player for the Nashville Legends and he has recently discovered that he has never given his wife Thea a genuine orgasm and it’s threatening the relationship. So he does the logical thing and turns to his team mates, who actually double as a secret romance book club. They suggest taking a leaf out of a smutty Regency paperback to save his marriage -what could possibly go wrong? Funny, heart-warming and touching, it’s a great choice if you’re looking for a rom-com with a difference.

9. My Pear-Shaped Life by Carmel Harrington

If you’ve spent a lot of self-isolation being wholly unproductive and perhaps not looking after yourself too well, you may be feeling that you’re simply not good enough. Especially if your social media is full of happy healthy people doing just about EVERYTHING. Meet Greta, a struggling actress who is used to playing the role of the funny, overweight girl in all areas of her life. That’s ok as long as she laughs with everyone else, right? But things have been pretty rough lately and it’s only when she hits rock bottom that she begins to realise that maybe things need to go a little bit pear-shaped sometimes. With joy and despair in equal measure, this new novel, populated with an array of wonderful characters, will teach you that true happiness comes from simply being you.

10. A Boy Made Of Blocks by Keith Stuart 

Eight-year-old Sam is autistic and struggles to make sense of the world. His dad Alex has also lost himself somewhere along the way and needs to change. Minecraft offers a place where father and son can rediscover their bond and put the family back together, block by block. I reviewed this incredibly moving, uplifting story when it was first released a few years ago. It’s actually inspired by Keith Stuart’s real-life experiences, which I think give it an extra dollop of heart-warmth! 

11. The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

The entire focus of this fantastically written YA novel is on embracing your own personal uniqueness and on not being afraid to let it out. Michael is a mixed-race gay teen who has grappled with his identity for his entire life. On arriving at university, the idea of becoming a drag artist causes everything to begin to slot into place. Told in verse, The Black Flamingo will show you how your boldest brightest colours can shine through the darkest of times. Highlighting the power of words and challenging all forms of homophobia, whether it be external or internal, this is a book that I’m sure will become a staple of LGBT+ literature in years to come. As for now, it will simply inspire you to live your very best life, regardless of who tries to prevent it.

12. Reasons To Be Cheerful by Nina Stibbe

As the title may suggest, there is plenty to smile about in Reasons To Be Cheerful. It’s chiefly a coming-of-age novel about a young woman called Lizzie living in 1970s Leicestershire. She has just got a job as an assistant to a work-shy, racist dentist who is desperate to join the freemasons. Navigating this new position alongside a relationship with her alcoholic writer mother, a boyfriend who doesn’t seem terribly interested in her and a few unlikely friends, Lizzie’s life makes for some pretty amusing anecdotes. Whether it’s the simple retro setting or small cast of eccentric caricatures, there is something quite other-worldly yet familiar about it. There is a lot of detail that is relevant to the period it’s set in, including the blatant social prejudices that were so rife at the time. I am too young to have experienced 1970s Britain but it certainly feels authentic to what I know. I have no doubt that those that were there will get even more enjoyment and nostalgia from Lizzie’s life than I did. 

#feel good #books #recommended #recommendations #uplifting

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 1 Chapter 8

• So…umm…I LOVE this chapter! More in hindsight than when I was actually playing it because back then it just sounded like a jealous woman trying to sabotage the MC and failing. But now having played through this chapter and even written a fic about it…I have to say there’s a lot going on in this one.

• I’ve often found the 8th chapter in the series pretty interesting. This was the first chapter in the series to feature diamond scenes from all three of the original LIs in a single chapter. This would happen again in Book 2, but by Book 2 the imbalance was a lot more tangible. I will speak more about this later…but suffice to say that back when we had just two books in the series, I would call the 8th chapter The Magical Number Eight.

• A common misconception that seems to stem from this chapter (and others, often by Kiara-haters) is that Kiara “agrees to be our friend” this chapter, and then jumps ship to Madeleine in Book 2. That’s bullshit. Kiara never mentions the word friend. She says ally. And she delivers.

• THIS is also where you get the first little inkling that Maxwell could be romanced, though we would only know for sure by the middle of Book 2. This chapter is also where you also get the first of many Drake’s plot related scenes. Which meant that sometimes, even if a fan did not like him, they would end up buying his scenes anyway for some crumb of information on their LI. Drake was already getting popular, but dropping hints of plot into his scenes gave him an added edge and often encouraged fans of other LIs who didn’t like him, to buy his scenes.

• Anyway, since the buildup took an entire chapter, the book pushes us straight into the dressing room for this one!

• Title: A Waltz to Remember.

Alternative Title: Lizzy Turns This QT into a Kiara Gush-fest And Does Not Regret It (Even If It Gave Her Hand-Cramps).

I love how over the course of three books, this particular dance form of Cordonia has gained the importance it has. And it’s lovely how - even though we’re not meant to like Olivia at this point - our first glimpse of Cordonian culture through this dance, is in her estate.

• Hana’s silver dress makes its debut here! Honestly, I kinda would’ve liked this one a LOT better as a gown than as the bodycon it eventually became. That pleated bodice really needed a long, flowy skirt to work. I’m always going to be a little sore they made it a short bodycon instead 😑

• Okay I love both our options for the ball, okay. They’re both big, and glamorous, and make a real statement. Which is necessary, because the plan is to show Olivia up at her own home.

Winter Goddess is gorgeous - it has that vintage Hollywood feel to me, and the caption for it sounds pretty romantic (“will capture the winter moonlight”). Snowflake Sweetheart is very on-point for the whole snow/ice theme Lythikos itself has going on. I’m very fond of the crystals and the illusion sleeves on the second one….but I have to say that silk-satin one with the fur stole is the winner for me 😅

Me Back Then (on one of my million replays): If I really have to take a diamond option, I’m taking the second one. I’m cheap.

Me Now: Still cheap. I’m not spending 25 whole diamonds on another gown when there’s already a cute one free in my closet.

• Maxwell is trying hard to channel Bertrand 2.0, and is badgered enough by 1.0 over the phone to almost succeed.

• One of the formal phrases he uses is “a diamond of the first water”, a phrase you’d see very commonly in the Regency era…which kind of solidifies my belief that Regency England was one of their world building inspirations even back then.

• We don’t fully understand the kind of power the hostess can wield in her homeplace, until this sequence. On principle, Olivia is not exactly answerable to anyone, not even the royals visiting her in Lythikos - she can decide on seat arrangements, she can give instructions to the staff on who gets the best portions of the meals and who gets the worst, she can monopolize on the Prince’s time with her if she wants. And she takes full advantage of that.

• However, her being the hostess doesn’t always leave her completely free to do what she wants, without consequences. Lythikos is not just a turning point for us - it’s one for her as well. And not exactly in a good way.

• Here’s what Olivia does to sabotage us at the ball:

- seats us away from our sponsor, and away from the head table. In fact this is something she does to all the suitors - Maxwell tells us that not a single one has a place at the head table.

- seats us way back, next to a commoner who is also constantly given the same treatment - which Hana points out is meant to be viewed in the court as an insult. To an MC who is still learning the ways of the nobility, this move is pretty much a miss…but it does give us a very clear idea of how hypocritical the nobility and royalty can be. Hana is not immune to the prejudice either (seen as she does not censor the statement when she says it in front of Drake, a commoner), but she eventually grows to fiercely guard him and defend him from those kind of attitudes later on… and you can see a lot of that growth in TRH’s Walker Ranch chapters.

- has her servers give us ice-cold lobster bisque on purpose, thirty minutes after serving has begun. With no lobster in it. Remember, we’re in a wintry region where you require piping hot, creamy, fattening foods to stay warm. This isn’t just ruining a meal: Olivia is sending a clear message about how unwelcome they are, by giving them cold food devoid of the main protein, in the freezing cold of Lythikos.

- given the timing of her kiss on Liam during the waltz, she probably did that to send a message to us as well. It happens shortly after our dance with him, and from her reaction (angry, immediately establishing claim on him) to Liam’s dance with the MC, we can tell she’s more affected than she’d like to admit, and that’s what informs her actions during her second dance with him.

• Me Back Then: There is a nice option and a rude option. It’s Drake, but he’s Liam’s bff and I want to be nice.

(+ romance point)

Me Back Then:

Me Now: Romance points in Lythikos fall from Drake the way pee falls from someone with weak kegels. One tiny laugh and pssssshhhh.

• From the rude option you find out that Drake plays chess and often wins in his matches with Liam, so that’s a nice touch.

• The MC can acquire the fresh bisque for herself and her friends if she dramatically faints in front of a server. I quite like this (optional) moment because it shows her thinking on her feet and quickly ensuring she gets her way. The other options are pretty hilarious too, though, the obnoxious “do you know who I am” option comes with a Game of Thrones reference 😂

•

Me Back Then: …someone should leave Drake hungry at a party till the wee hours of the morning with access to only whiskey bottles. Whiskey for entrèe, whiskey for main, maybe we’ll be kind and give him brandy for dessert. Let’s see how far his love for whiskey goes then 😈

Me Now: Holy shit, Me Back Then, you just predicted the best scene in Book 3 🤣.

• One of my favourite TRR Tumblr posts ever, was the one where someone took a screenshot of Drake saying “I’m not one to complain about food” from this chapter, and placed a gif of Nicholas Fraser’s “Why You Always Lying” lyrics just beneath it 😄 If that isn’t the truth idk what is.

• Most of the chapter after this will focus on the Cordonian Waltz, Olivia’s little stunt and getting allies, so the buildup to Drake’s scene will happen now (and Hana’s just before we meet Drake). Hana will be dancing with Tariq, and then other partners in the meantime, so no opportunities to dance with her there.

I loved this dialogue option when I first saw it, but now that I know how much in love with dancing Maxwell is, this scene is ten times more fun! 😃

• On first playthrough…this didn’t seem like that big a problem. Maxwell was fun, and seemed to genuinely like us, and was berated a great deal by Bertrand - so it was easier then to perhaps forgive his gaffes and want to comfort him instead. But when you approach his character as someone who brought a complete foreigner to his country and then didn’t make much of an effort to educate her with what little time they both had…I wind up finding his character a lot less endearing. I’m honestly more irritated by his carelessness. There was a lot he could have done even if he forgot or didn’t know what to do. He could have asked around! Hana was right in front of him! He could have found out what to prepare for if he didn’t know or if Bertrand didn’t handhold him (which Bertrand himself isn’t exactly doing a good job of in the first place). The other LIs shouldn’t have to constantly step in and do his job as sponsor and guide!

• It’s only when we’re dancing that Maxwell realizes he’s not taught us the dance. Of course, if you bought Hana’s waltz scene, she whispers her advice just before you dance with him, and you give her credit for teaching you. If not, you go into it knowing very little (but because the options are easy to choose from, so you can still manage). Maxwell does explain its uniqueness in terms of the flirting potential and the fact that it’s a courtship dance…but the true beauty of that description only comes with Hana.

• Istg, if Hana weren’t around to repeatedly save our ungrateful asses…

• So THIS is the first opportunity you get to ‘romance’ Maxwell. He looks sad and tells you that you should only be here for the Prince, but it’s also that vague kind of sadness that you can interpret differently and write detailed fanfics about! I think a huge part of Maxwell’s appeal (besides the overall sparkling personality, and the fact that he was so different from both Liam and Drake) was the “will-he-won’t-he” nature of the LI question itself.

• We now move on to Liam, who is fighting a losing battle with his desire to favour the MC exclusively, but wants her to know that she is special to him. Notably he does say this in the “courtship” part of the dance.

• How do you know that the Cordonian Waltz was a strategic choice? Because Olivia chose to dance with Liam twice! And because she’s the hostess, it’s harder for Liam to refuse.

I remember being pretty uncomfortable with this scene the first time I saw it, I still am, and often I wonder if I’m the only one who feels that way. Whenever I see this scene being referenced, it’s often referenced in the most flippant ways. And it baffles me.

• Honestly, Olivia was clearly overstepping her boundaries here and didn’t even bother to ask Liam before doing it (Liam himself mentions he was “caught by surprise” and calls it an “unexpected advance”). Was Olivia doing it out of complex, understandable reasons? Like jealousy or frustration or showing the MC up? Well, sure I guess. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that her doing so was nonconsensual and downright wrong.

The funny thing is often this incident is either downplayed or erased completely, especially in contexts where people try to argue that Olivia “deserves better” than Liam, or sympathize with her for loving a man who “does not care about her”.

Does Olivia deserve to be loved back by a person she loves? Absolutely.

Is Liam a lesser person for not loving her back? No, and he shouldn’t have to be penalized or judged by a fandom for not doing so.

Is the fact that most people who uphold this “penalizing/blaming Liam for not returning Olivia’s feelings” argument, also tend to forget/downplay this particular incident…particularly disturbing? Well, yeah, definitely.

• Even the narrative fails with regard to this, actually. It is written in a comical style, with a couple of out-there dialogue options (like screaming loud enough of break poor Maxwell’s eardrums) and the MC is given a chance to lash out at Liam for not reacting fast enough or throwing Olivia off of him. And guess what his reaction is. Sad, contrite, trying to explain his position. It’s almost like it’s okay for him to feel guilty about something that was done TO him, that he was never asked permission for.

Olivia does suffer consequences, but more for her “power play” than for anything else. Her move isn’t viewed as negative for what it may do to Liam, it is negative because it is seen as a direct “fuck you” she is delivering to her competitors. The scene itself is written for laughs…which I’m surprised more people don’t find even a little uncomfortable.

• The reactions from the other suitors is pretty on point for their character types at this point. Madeleine is smug and condescending, confident that she will never be “unrefined or insecure” enough for such “ostentatious displays” (says the woman who will bully her entire court, run around Italy roaring drunk and name a drink after herself in Book 2). Penelope doesn’t exactly have a personality at this point, she merely comments that the kiss was a bold play. It is Kiara who points out the power dynamics involved and views it as the last straw in her waning support for Olivia.

Remember - the ladies of the court weren’t treated half as badly as we were, but they were probably more aware (than us) that they were being denied a seat at the head table, and had to put up with Olivia monopolizing Prince Liam’s time. While Kiara’s suspicions that Olivia is “mad with power” here probably aren’t too far off the mark (even though her feelings of jealousy and confusion may be involved, we can’t deny that there is a clear sense of “I’m the hostess here, I can do what I want”), it’s not just an assumption that simply stems out of nowhere.

• Maxwell sees and opportunity to gain allies, and encourages us to capitalize on it. The wrong options are pretty interesting: if you mention “slapping the smirk off Olivia’s face”, Maxwell tells you that the political equivalent would be to “attack her alliances”. If you suggest making out with Liam in public, Maxwell exclaims that doing so would lead to people gunning after you. Which is telling, because in Book 1 PDA is mostly shown as being frowned upon in Cordonian society in general. So Olivia’s very public kiss isn’t just brazen and bold to the courtly ladies, but also viewed as inappropriate and a jab at their own lack of power in this situation.

• I love that Maxwell gets the opportunity to encourage us to play politics. Love it. He is the first one to notice the change in Kiara’s attitude towards Olivia, and he recognizes that the time is ripe for us to captialize on it. While Bertrand, or Bertrand-and-Maxwell, are the ones who tell us the importance of gaining support from the press and the royals, getting the court to support us is wholly Maxwell’s idea. This added another layer to the way he was built in the story, and I’m not happy that we didn’t see a lot of that perceptiveness and skill around court later on. By Books 2 and 3, he was mostly relegated to the funny guy, the court jester. Book 1 Maxwell may make a lot of mistakes but you bet he’d be too smart to toss brushettas in the face of dignitaries at the UN. It was like his own writers forgot Maxwell was capable of more.

• OKAY SO THE KIARA SECTION IS A FAVOURITE OF MINE OKAY. And it only wound up being a favourite when I realized there were changes in her dialogue between my Esther playthrough and my Persephone one. I mean if I weren’t already a fan of her…this definitely would have converted me.

Before I get into the actual gushing…I’ll just summarize what the MC has to do to gain her approval:

- Language: Kiara is known for her proficiency with languages - it is the skill that defines her in court (to the point that you barely notice her other qualities). Her home language is French, and if you know how to respond to comment ça va she is cheerful and more willing to hear you out (if you choose the fromage answer she’ll a bit surprised but not too hostile, and if you say voulez-vous coucher avec moi, well…of course she’ll be pissed off because you just accidentally asked her to sleep with you). In any case, to gain her approval you need to respond in French.

In fact even Kiara’s goodbyes vary based on whether she becomes your ally or not. If she’s your ally, she says à bientôt before leaving (which is “see you soon”). If she’s not convinced by your arguments, she says adieu, which has more of a sense of finality to it and is often said when you don’t expect to meet again (in fact I’m surprised they had her say it) and is different from au revior (which means “until we see each other again”).

- Olivia’s Actions: Kiara reiterates to you what she’d just told the others - Olivia is on a power trip, and while Kiki is well aware that she’s not a top contender in this competition, she is not going to stand for being treated like she is lesser than the ones who do have power. Interestingly, in both Chapter 7 of Book 2 and this chapter, Kiara’s first visible signs of discontent/frustration come when both Olivia/Madeleine go on massive power trips (“she even named a drink after herself. Quelle narcissique”, Kiara says about Madeleine in the next book).

I feel like Kiara’s frustration may have already been there with Olivia’s treatment of the ladies of the court at the start of the Ball (but perhaps she may have been brushed it aside as a strategy you could expect from a noblewoman in her own estate) but it is Olivia kissing Liam and trying to establish a claim on him that is seen as the tipping point for her.

However, she’s also pretty pragmatic and is lowkey impressed with Olivia if you state that she went too far. She is irritated by the message Olivia is sending, but acknowledges that not many would have dared to do that in her place. A more neutral response works well with Kiara’s train of thought, because to her the important thing is seeing what works in the long run, and the MC has to convince her that she is a good alternative.

- Alliance: Kiara already anticipates this, since she is the one who straight-out asks this question. At this point Kiara is not exactly aiming to be Queen - she knows she is up against more powerful people, people who have more access to the royal family (perhaps her dad Hakim would have had a similar amount of access if Constantine wasn’t such a dick). She is not going to waste her time wishing for what she won’t get, when she can easily network instead. The answer that works best with her is the one where the MC speaks of Olivia’s friendship as being a one-way street where she always gets her way, which is ironic considering how the MC behaves in a likely worse manner towards Kiara in Book 3.

• One of my favourite Kiara lines is from the wrong option (“I’m nicer than Olivia”) for the Alliance segment: “Nice? Nothing about being here is nice. If I wanted nice I’d buy a teacup pig. 😡”

• Back in Books 6’s QT, I mentioned Queen Regina and Duke Bertrand as being the two people in the first book who watch out and keep track on our progress. Bertrand does it because he is our sponsor, Regina does it because after all we are one of the candidates for her stepson’s hand in marriage, and we’re the one he eventually shows the most interest in. But there is one other person who seems to be taking notice of our good performance as well:

On my fail run, where Persy doesn’t gain approval either from the press, or from the royals, those last two lines simply do not appear. She asks us about whether we’re looking for an alliance, and we immediately answer her. She will still join hands with you if you convince her (I did a test run where Persy said all the right things) but those words will not feature anywhere. Because the dialogue is coded such that it will only appear if you’ve done well in your previous two tasks.

That is fascinating to me, because Kiara is the only lady of the court who is written as noticing these things at such an early stage in the competition (the Lythikos Ball is only the third event in the social season, and the maximum approvals come from the Derby, which was the event just preceding it). She is the only person, besides Bertrand and Regina, who keeps track of our progress (even if that is only uptil this point, because if you win her support here, it stays that way until the Coronation). Even Madeleine, who has been part of a social season before and is viewed as having a lot of experience in the court, compared to the other ladies, spends most of her time simply underestimating the MC. It isn’t until Applewood and Ramsford that Madeleine even begins to think there might be more to this person.

Kiara, on the other hand, is observant. She is competitive but she knows when other people have the upper hand, and she will honestly acknowledge that you have an edge if you have proven yourself to the press and the Queen. For someone who would be seen as just a lady of the court….that level of foresight, observation skills and pragmatism is pretty phenomenal to me.

• I’ve said this many times and I will say it again: Kiara has always been upfront about what she’s bringing to the table in an alliance. She isn’t your friend and she won’t pretend to be your friend either. She mentions she will put in a good word and support you in becoming Queen, and she keeps her promise.

She keeps her distance from you otherwise, so you can’t dub her a ‘friend’ even then, but she will do her work as an ally. She doesn’t get involved in smearing your name while supporting you to your face. At the end of the day, she is a woman in the court trying to thrive and carve a space of her own, but she won’t dirty her hands to do that - and I don’t think she gets enough recognition for that.

• Alright I’ll stop gushing about Kiki otherwise this QT will never end 😂

• We now meet Liam, who tells us about the hot tub in his room, and invites us there. The intent is clearly romantic (the MC specifies as such, smiling, and Liam winks at you before he leaves).

• This chapter also marks the second time you see Penelope with Liam, after which you will only see her directly interact with him at his Coronation. Funny how Kiara doesn’t get even one opportunity in the narrative to talk to him.

• It’s the end of our big night in Lythikos, and we’ve got three invitations to spend time with an LI! Liam’s setting up candles near the hot tub, Hana is playing exquisite melodies on the piano, and Drake is drinking whiskey in Olivia’s wine cellar. Maxwell is…doing Maxwell things that we are not privy to yet. Or taking a nap.

• I won’t be going too much into detail esp for Liam and Hana’s scenes - because I have essays written on both! Both will be under the “Liam: Diamond Scenes” and “Hana: Diamond Scenes” sections of my essay masterlist if anyone is interested 😃 They will be titled “Hot Tub at Lythikos” and “Piano at the Parlour”, respectively. (another recommended read is “Exploring Hana in Her Context” where I talk about this scene, and her characterization. It’s a little further down on the masterlist).

•

(Screenshots for Drake from the HIMEME YouTube channel)

Liam: This is undoubtedly meant to be a romantic scene, and is hinted as much in the lead-up to it while still giving the MC the space to not go (since she says “I won’t make any promises”). He puts candles around the tub, and the tub itself is situated in an area where you can get a wonderful view of the mountains.

This scene is divided into two parts: the first where Liam gets to sincerely tell the MC he trusts her (optionally) and where they lightly flirt, and the second where he admits to feeling conflicted between giving in to his feelings and being fair to the other women. At this point he knows his feelings for the MC are stronger, implicitly trusts her (“I thoroughly believe that if you thought I was a pompous ass, you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me. I trust you, MC. Anything you say”), doesn’t want to call it love just yet but is well on his way to doing so. He tells us about his brother Leo, hinting at the events of the RoE series and explaining that seeing how love affected him made Liam think more about it. It’s not one of Liam’s absolute best scenes…but it is a sweet one where Liam tentatively explores his growing love for her - in some ways leading to his “almost-declaration” of love at the Forgotten Falls. In each scene of Liam’s, he takes a step further, and another, and another, to admitting his love for her and growing less guilty about his desire to be with her. He is still torn between his duty and his desire at this point, but you can already see him slowly inching towards the prospect of keeping what he wants first, for once.

Hana: This, in my mind, is Hana’s most powerful scene. As many adjectives as I can use to describe her in this scene would be inadequate, because it’s that good, that layered, that rich with nuance and detail. But I do think I can sum a bit of it up with a quote from a Book 3 Liam scene that instantly took me back to this one:

“Hana’s a tough one. She’s clearly had the kind of lessons I’m giving you now, and then some. Her posture is almost always polite and attentive…but when she feels strongly about something, you can sense her real feelings even before she speaks up. Her eyes grow darker and more serious.”

Compare the scenes from last chapter where she speaks about ice-skating, or even waltzing, to this one. In both those scenes, her expression is mostly neutral (or joyful when she is imparting her knowledge), speaking of it in a way that makes you understand that her heart isn’t truly in doing those things. But in this one, she is lost in her music when she plays it, she is feeling its melody in her bones, she speaks of guarding her most precious skill fiercely against her parents’ control because it’s the one thing she wants for herself. She is fierce and passionate and absolutely beautiful in the way she expresses her love for music.

In an essay I did on exploring Hana’s character in her larger context, I spoke at length about how this scene is important because it highlights that her struggle for her own autonomy began at a very young age - she recognized her art as sacred to her and had the foresight to understand that parading it around the way her parents wanted her to, would make her love it less. This scene is amazing because Young Hana is described as pushing back in the only way she knew how, so she could keep what was hers, on her terms.

The other thing this scene explores is her childhood loneliness and lack of friends, and how music helped her in those difficult times too. At this point we now know how deep that loneliness was, and how damaging to her, but back then this scene gave a wonderful insight to Childhood Hana.

So for her to trust us with her art - with the art she fought to keep her own…that’s a tremendous leap in that relationship - whether the MC is a friend or a potential lover. Romantically, she is at the point where she is slowly…slowly getting comfortable with the MC’s touch, allowing it to linger before she pulls away from her. She’s a bit like a butterfly who doesn’t know yet if she’s ready to leave her cocoon.

Drake: The picture presented to us of Drake here is the diamond-in-the-rough, the underdog, the one who views court and palace differently from everyone around him. He is there to remind us that this is not the charmed place we think it is, that even friends can stick knives in our backs. He speaks of the forced politeness of the nobility, the fact that he’s here only to protect Liam, that the MC is an innocent woman who doesn’t know what she is getting into and needs protection as well.

This scene comes with what was regarded as an important plot point at the time: who almost sold pictures of Liam’s bachelor party to the press? Drake and Bastien managed to get hold of them and prevent them from being published, knowing that having those printed before the social season would cast Liam in a more negative light, and make things harder for him. At this point, Drake is sure that someone he knows and possibly considers a friend is involved (close enough, but not quite there yet), but can’t yet figure out who (because, yknow, Olivia was the brains between the two, she cracked that mystery in under five minutes or something).

If you don’t buy this scene, you only get to know about the pictures in Book 2 Chapter 4. A lot of Drake’s scenes involve important plot points - some of which we won’t even hear the same way - or at all - if we don’t buy the scene (eg. the flashback scenes about Hana’s return and the Italian restaurant scene about Liam’s assassination). I recall buying quite a few of his scenes in the latter half of Book 1 and most of Book 2 just to find out stuff about other LIs.

The scene is pretty sweet - it highlights his now-famous whiskey obsession, has Drake openly show his protectiveness towards her minus the jaded sarcastic veneer, and has him warn her about the nature of this court. It has a line that I quite liked when I first saw the scene, but that fandom has pretty much ruined for me - “the moments in between”. Where he speaks of how the nobility are so busy schmoozing and being superficial that they miss the really important parts. It’s a beautiful thought, but the fact is I’m still paying like 17 diamonds to get it, which makes it a…pretty expensive moment.

But overall…it’s a nice scene. The look and feel of it is different from the other two, and so is the purpose.

• The focus of all these three scenes is clearly trust.

Liam completely trusts her opinion of him and confesses openly his desire to let go of all that is holding him back, even though he is still confused and conflicted about his own feelings.

Hana trusts her so much, that she will share piano pieces that she lovingly composed to the MC, even though she never performs for people. It is a measure of how much Hana values the MC that she will share such a secret part of herself with her.

Drake, who once came this close to calling the MC a crown chaser, now views the same woman as an innocent who doesn’t know what she is getting into. He will later tell her that that aspect of her journey reminds him of Savannah. He trusts the MC enough to give her important information about something he still views as a possible plot targeted at Liam, and tells her their moments mean something to him.

Chapter 8 of the second book took this theme forward for the initial three LIs, by showing us trust in other forms. Liam’s firm belief in his father’s dedication to his nation (which will crumble soon). Drake’s being convinced by the MC to stay on and hear out his sister, to give her a chance to explain what really happened to her, and his emotional reunion with her. Hana’s scene…was more about gaining someone’s trust - particularly Penelope’s. (it is also one of the worst scenes the series has ever given an LI, whoever wrote that one can fall on a cactus).

We are approaching a midpoint in the story, so at this point the narrative is progressing each of these relationships towards the point where they trust this woman, view her as a valuable person in their lives, and inch ever-so-slightly towards that eventual realization that they are in love with her.

•

Another point in the Tariq shoe tally!! I wonder if this ‘ghost’ deals with 'future misdeeds’ as well…

• We spend a few more days in Lythikos before we move back to the Capitol for the Royal Regatta, and both Esther and Persy are like “YOU HAD A FEW DAYS TO ASK IF I KNEW WHAT A FUCKING REGATTA WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MAXWELL”.

• So…a lot happens this chapter. The MC begins to rope in (or not) her first allies in the court, she has a strong foothold by now and is beginning to get noticed as more than just a random contender who wouldn’t last, she gains the trust of the people she is growing close to.

But most of all…Lythikos is where Olivia begins to lose the hold she once had on the court, and this is never more apparent than if you are losing supporters rather than gaining them (if you are more popular, it won’t be that apparent, since you will move far ahead of the competition). There will be times when the press may not pay attention to her, there will be ladies who club the MC and Olivia both together as “not a proper fit for becoming a queen”. She is still very much a frontrunner, she may win the Regatta if you fail all the steps to the boat race, but after this it will be harder for her to gain support whether or not the MC succeeds.

Shortly after this point, Olivia also doesn’t antagonize the MC as blatantly as she did in Lythikos, save for a snide remark to the MC (with a life jacket of all things) if you choose to go to her yacht in the next chapter. She will eventually begin to thaw towards you in Applewood.

• Constantine and Regina are conspicuous by their absence this chapter, and Constantine announces that he is stepping down the next. Which probably means he found out sometime between the Masque and this event that he was ill (since we don’t see him at the Derby). I’m headcanoning that they visited Leo around this time (optionally with the RoE MC, since the housewarming party in Newlyweds seems to happen sometime around the social season (it could be earlier or later too…but humour me 😂)

• So…Regatta in Chapter 9! Lots of sun, fun and (Persephone-willing) PLENTY of mess.

• Before I sign of, here is Persy’s Share of Mess this chapter (except for the bloodcurdling scream she gives when Olivia kisses Liam, I forgot to screenshot that 🙈 How on earth did Maxwell’s poor ears survive??):

• Until next week, folks!

–

• Tally Counts:

Number of Times Drake has Called Esther/Persy by Their First Names: 5

Number of Times Tariq Has Mentioned His Shoes: 3

Number of Times Drake Has Taken An Alcoholic Drink that’s Not Whiskey: 1

Number of Times Someone Has Called A Reigning Monarch 'Your Highness’: 2

Number of Times You Can Leave Hana Shook. SHOOK I TELLS YA: 4

Number of Times We See Penelope’s Angryface: 2

–

#long post #the royal romance #trr quick thoughts #trr qts #hana lee #trr kiara #king liam #olivia nevrakis #drake walker #i stan for kiki #this was honestly one of my fave chapters to write for

[thefudge]

scattered thoughts on sanditon so far 

this is a fun romp from andrew davies and there’s a lot to like and be invested in

but i do have some observations/ gripes

obviously davies is going for a modern/sexed up adaptation of austen and i have mixed thoughts on that, cuz there’s a lot of interesting stuff you can do with that, but you can also botch it up big time (i’m glad he didn’t do this to p&p back in 1995...i wonder what that adaptation would’ve looked like today. probably full monty darcy, lol). so i think some elements verge on the ridiculous, for instance having almost every dude in this show strip naked in front of a crowded beach several times in a row. ditto for theo james. i don’t mind the view (hehe) but i think it’s inserted awkwardly at times. like okay, we get it, it’s a beach resort and we’re trying to make austen edgy in 2019.... just maybe indulge a little less and literally keep it in your pants. 

this being a more modern adaptation i don’t mind hair and make-up anachronisms, but i DO mind the fact that rose williams sports this really weird shade of fuchsia lipstick in almost every single scene. stop iiiit

speaking of which, rose williams is a cutie and i loved her on reign, but i don’t understand what she’s doing with her face in this series. don’t get me wrong, she does a good job of making charlotte very likable, but the only way she can express...anything, really, is by making these confused faces, like a child practicing frowning in the mirror. it’s...really awkward. and she does this all the time, whether she’s happy or sulky or nervous, she just always looks like she’s trying to figure out the fibonacci sequence.  i mean it’s hilarious when u have theo james going all gruff to her about his feelings and rose williams is that gif of the blond lady doing math in her head. her acting is pretty good otherwise, but those faceeeees.

esther denham is my goddamn FAVE, gosh i love a Disappointed Queen and i’m glad she’s getting away from that boring skeevy brother. for once the incestuous siblings didn’t do it for me at all (which is pretty much the point lol). there’s nary a dude more uninteresting than edward whatshisface, my gaaaawd (also, davies trying to ramp up the sexiness with those scenes of edward brushing her hair or doing her stays...lol, sir, this rly isn’t your strength i’m sorry)

but i have to say that i thought esther and clara would be a thing. because my gosh, the chemistry during their scenes! the way they’d glide past each other with utmost contempt, while being disquieted by each other @___@. i mean it’s an austen adaptation, so i guess they’d never go there but!!! i need fic (would’ve made clara more bearable at least. i appreciate her character objectively cuz she’s an interesting pseudo-antagonist and you don’t get many of those, but blerghh. she was insufferable)

i was kinda (actually very) disappointed that the relationship between sidney and his ward, georgiana, wasn’t really developed. like there’s one more episode to go (as far as i know?) and they’ve barely scratched the surface with them. i mean he’s halfway decent to her now.... but ehh. i feel like this was a missed opportunity. after all, this was austen’s unfinished novel, so andrew davies & co could have added more material between these two. this, to me, should have been the real heart of the series. 

i like otis as a character, but georgiana/otis was zzzzzz. i suppose that they’ll end up together? zzzzzzzzzz (i frankly ship her way more with arthur! she finds him infuriating! he’s a sweetheart! the shenanigans!)

that German doctor is the real MVP, i feel like he should be sanditon’s no. 1 bachelor. i mean the shower rod??? providing pleasure to all the ladies in town, what a hero 

the soundtrack is rly rad! and the cinematography

i love how the show captures austen’s growing interest in the industrialized modern world which was emerging in the twilight years of the regency and i feel like maybe the show should’ve invested more time in that modern aesthetic (steampunk!) rather the awkward sexual shenanigans 

so....i can’t delay the inevitable anymore, can i? sigghh okay here i go

sidney/charlotte...annoys me. 

HEAR ME OUT.

 u know that i love LOVE “enemies to lovers” and hate/love stories, i LIVE FOR THIS SHIT. 

and i was ready to gorge on this dynamic because it looked delish 

 but i felt like michael bluth finding the dead pigeon in the paper bag. 

from what i can gather, sidney is supposed to be a mixture of darcy and capt wentworth, “haughty” and proud, with a history of romantic disappointment, a brooding sexy hero with a heart of gold. but to me this dude just comes off as weird. 

there’s legit no reason for him to be THIS mean to this young girl he just met. he is not just an asshole, he is ridiculously over the top about it, to the point where he makes a fool of himself. i am FINE with a man telling a woman off, believe me, but it has to have some kind of motivation, some kind of reasoning behind it. here, it just feels like the plot needs him to be utterly shitty to charlotte so that “sparks will fly”. that first ep convo on the balcony??? wtf???? it was genuinely bizarre. i got weird incel vibes. and every time he lashes out at charlotte (at least in the first 4 episodes) it’s fucking silly, because it’s not like he lashes out because she’s scratching the surface of his innermost painful memories. no!!! many of their arguments revolve around basic things that he could easily clarify!!! which he does eventually, so like whyyyyyyyyyy. charlotte keeps telling him he’s being vague for no good reason and he still does it. it doesn’t make sense he’d be this guarded and outspoken at the same time. like, fine, keep that shit to yourself, don’t tell ppl, but don’t also get pissed at them when they don’t guess your mind. again, i love an antagonist dynamic when it’s done right, but here many times it’s just pointless bullying, it’s not sexy or fun or challenging. the writers keep making charlotte apologize to him about how “wrong” she got him and how he makes her doubt her judgement but it sounds fake to me. like a) this dude went out of his way to be a total assface to you from day one, b) none of that bullying was him trying to coax you into having a more complicated view of the world. when darcy rebukes elizabeth, he is hinting at her limited point of view. he’s not blatantly negging her or calling her stupid as this dude does. AND U KNO WHAT.

i’d be absolutely fine with him calling her stupid IF IT MADE SENSE WITHIN THE STORY 

like if charlotte had truly done smth stupid during the first episode, sure, fine, it’s somewhat warranted 

but for him to decide she’s an idiot for no other reason than her making some honestly super nice remarks about his brothers when he asked for her opinion is THE HEIGHT OF NONSENSE 

it’s even more nonsense when 2 episodes later he decides maybe she’s not that dumb after all FUCK U MR. EDGELORD

and it makes me pity charlotte cuz she’ll probably marry this dude and have to deal with him in his old age when he’ll be even more insufferable. 

and i totally get the appeal. i do! i mean their scenes are manufactured to make you want more of them, i see the chemistry, it’s there (and we’re already at a point in the series where he’s trying to make amends) but at the same time i’m put off by this dude’s intensity, cuz it’s not the hot kind of intensity...it’s more like he’s a giant dumb baby who breaks things. meh. theo james is very pretty tho, and he is doing the most with his character (that voice def helps!). but i wish this antagonistic relationship had been written better, because it could’ve been glorious

this is why i think sidney/georgiana should’ve been so much more present. just like darcy has his georgiana we need the humanizing element, we need to see more variety from this dude than just “guy who clearly needs anger management classes”. 

i’m pretty sure i’m in the minority or possibly one of two ppl not won over by this romance, and i can’t lie and say i don’t root for them. too much of this show is predicated on their clashes for them not to work it out and get together, but boyyyy do i wish they’d done it a bit better

i almost feel like a reylo anti lol, but at least kylo ren doesn’t neg rey every single time they talk 

also, i go back to rose williams’ faces because they just rly enhance how clumsy this dynamic is. theo james is doing byronic asshole 2.0 and charlotte looks at him like he’s developed a smell lmao. i mean the scene where she catches him naked? she turns around and FROWNS in this rly bizarre way, almost like she noticed a growth on his dick lmao it’s that bad 

anyway i totally get the appeal, but i also know what i want from this kind of dynamic and...this ain’t quite it 

honestly i think i prefer charlotte/cute architect guy whose name i don’t remember right now! 

that being said, my fave moments of this show are the most austen-esque, where ppl don’t take themselves so seriously. i mean the adventures of the perennially-ailing parker siblings (arthur & diana)? deeeelightful. the pineapple scene? glorious

also it makes me sad that sanditon was left unfinished because to see austen tackling georgiana’s character in depth would have been so, so interesting 

in conclusion, the show’s a lot of fun but also frustrating in many ways

i hope davies doesn’t set his eyes on re-adapting p&p or other austen classics because ermmm i know i’m trash but i am kind of tired of these sexed-up “look how scandalous we are behind closed doors” adaptations. you can make the regency era feel modern and relatable without “shocking hand job in the estate park” pls and thank u. sure, the regency era was the inheritor of the sexually relaxed 18th-century, but it wasn’t that relaxed yall. ppl still kept their wits and bonnets about them.

still, i’m glad this show exists and that it tries to take risks, i just wish it took different kinds of risks, if that makes sense. like i am SO bummed i didn’t get into sidney/charlotte, u have no idea 

#sanditon #my thoughts #the fudge watches #jane austen

[noona-clock]

Confusion & Coincidences - Part 7

Genre: Regency!AU

Pairing: Yongguk x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

You feigned yet another headache when you arrived back from your visit with Alice, wanting to stay far, far away from your mother. Had she any idea that her own son was soon to be engaged? And if she did, why hadn’t she told you?!

Did your father know?

If either of them had known before you did, you were quite sure you would feel put out. If everyone knew except you - and you definitely had a right to know more than anyone else... well, it almost felt like a betrayal!

You wanted to be upset with both Alice and your brother for keeping it a secret, but... your happiness for their happiness overtook any negative feelings you harbored. For the most part.

Even though you wished one or both of them had told you a bit earlier, you knew their feelings for each other must be very strong. And a marriage was always a thing to celebrate.

You were happy for them. Yes, truly, you were.

So... why was there a small pit in your stomach? It wasn’t a ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me’ pit, either. It was something different. A different sort of emotion. 

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But whatever it was, it kept you up almost all night.

You were awake when the sun rose, so you figured you might as well just get out of bed. Although... getting out of bed yesterday had turned out not to be the best idea...

But what else could happen to shake your life? Surely nothing!

So you slipped out of bed and made your way downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea. The servants were probably not up and about yet, and you certainly didn’t want to trouble them.

Once you’d scrounged around in the kitchen for a teacup, tea leaves, milk, sugar, and put a kettle of water over the fire (that you started yourself - hold for applause), you sat at your aunt’s kitchen table and let out a faint sigh.

“Miss,” you heard a soft voice say behind you. “You’re up rather early.”

You turned to see the butler, the stone-faced one who had announced the Earl’s arrival yesterday morning.

“Oh,” you replied, a bit uncertain what else to say. “I... I couldn’t sleep.”

“Did you put the kettle on by yourself?” he asked, though he didn’t sound at all disapproving as you imagined a butler might. That was his job, after all, and you really shouldn’t be allowed to do such things.

“I did... I didn’t want to trouble anyone, and I’ve started many fires back home.”

“Well, I assure you I am awake of my own volition, so it will be no trouble at all to finish preparing your tea for you.”

You simply let out a soft chuckle before nodding your thanks and turning back around in your chair.

Your arms were crossed over the tabletop, and you bent over to set your chin on top of them, letting out another sigh. 

A few moments passed, but then you heard the butler ask, “Is everything all right, Miss?”

“No,” you answered plainly. “It is not.”

“I am all ears if you would like to talk it over.”

While you weren’t really one to openly talk about your problems, you were just tired enough to not care. Plus, there was something strangely comforting about the butler’s almost emotionless voice. Like you knew he wouldn’t judge you or offer unwanted advice.

“Do you remember the young man who visited yesterday morning?”

“Yes, ma’am. An Earl, if I recall correctly.”

“Yes,” you sighed. “An Earl.”

To be quite honest, you really didn’t even think about his title most of the time... A bit odd, now that you thought about it.

“What about this Earl, Miss?”

“Well. He proposed to me.”

“Oh, my,” the butler answered. “Are congratulations in order?”

“No, I did not accept him because we’re merely acquaintances. I don’t know him well enough to commit the rest of my life to him.”

“Understandable.”

“But then later, I found out my best friend is going to be engaged to my brother very soon.”

“You did not know of their relationship beforehand?”

“No,” you answered as you heard the butler taking the kettle off the fire. “And I was upset they hadn’t told me, but now I’m not, but I still don’t feel right about it, and I don’t know why.”

The butler hummed as you heard him putting together your tea, and just a few moments later, the cup appeared in front of you.

“Thank you,” you murmured before taking a tiny sip.

You almost let out another sigh, but this one was of relief. A perfectly made cup of tea could really solve any problem, couldn’t it?

“How long have you been friends with this young lady?” the butler finally asked.

“Almost my whole life.”

“Could it be... you’re afraid to lose her? And your brother, all in one go?”

Your brow furrowed, and you lifted your head to look at him. “Lose them?”

“Once someone gets married, they tend to be... well, married. Your friend will start putting her husband first. Your brother will start putting his wife first.”

Now that he said it... it sounded true.

Maybe you were afraid to lose your friend and your brother. Maybe...

Oh, no.

You almost let out a gasp because you realized something which was so obvious but also incredibly petty.

Maybe you were envious of them for finding love and scared you never would find it for yourself.

...Yikes.

Even though your conversation with the butler had brought about a somewhat distressing revelation, you had still thanked him profusely for his company and words of wisdom once you’d finished your cup of tea. (Well, your third cup of tea, to be exact.)

You’d then trudged upstairs to get dressed and ready for the day, ...though you had no earthly idea what to do with yourself. You supposed you should call on Alice and insist she tell you all the details of her relationship with your brother.

Good heavens, it was still so strange to think about that.

You could also pay a visit to the shops with your mother and aunt; surely, they would be going. Although, it did look like rain, so maybe they would save the excursion for another day.

Once you’d donned your favorite, coral day dress, you meandered down to the drawing room, figuring you could at least get some reading done. You hadn’t been able to concentrate on any book last night, and even though you most likely wouldn’t be able to now, either, you would give it a go.

But not even ten minutes after you’d settled into your aunt’s plush, velvet armchair, the butler interrupted with a gentle clear of his throat.

“The Earl of Blackman to see you, Miss,” he said, one eyebrow slightly quirked.

You stood immediately.

...What?

Why would he be back? And so soon?

“Yes,” you mumbled, nodding quickly.

When the butler left, you took a few steps toward the door, wringing your hands anxiously. About a million thoughts were going through your head, and the half-minute it took for the Earl to enter the room seemed like an eternity.

When he finally did, your heart stopped.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” he began, cutting off any chance for you to speak. “I do not plan to stay for long.”

“Oh, it’s not --” You then noticed he had a piece of paper in his hand, and he obviously noticed you noticing it because he held it out to you - albeit a bit awkwardly.

“It’s a letter,” he explained. “Of apology.”

Your brow furrowed and you stared at the letter, not reaching out just yet to receive it. “Apology? Apologizing for what?”

The Earl cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously before he answered you. “I would... rather you just read it.”

“...Oh. Yes, of course,” you muttered, dipping into a small curtsy as you took it from his grip.

He turned to leave, but you felt a sort of panic rise up in your chest. Almost as if you didn’t want him to leave.

So you acted on instinct.

“I saw my best friend yesterday,” you blurted out. “You know, the one I was standing with at the ball the other night. She told me -- she told me my brother will be proposing to her any day now.”

The Earl had paused his retreat when he’d heard your voice, slowly turning around to face you again as you spoke.

And when you didn’t continue after that last sentence, he raised his eyebrows.

“Ah... That’s -- that’s lovely news.”

He wasn’t doing the best job at sounding genuinely interested, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t really expect him to.

“I am happy for them, of course,” you said with a sort of sad smile. “I just -- It made me realize that I truly am afraid of never finding love. Of never getting married or being happy. I always thought I wouldn’t mind ending up an old maid, but now I know that I would mind. Because without my best friend or my brother - who do I have? I don’t mind being alone, but forever? I’m not sure -- I don’t deserve it. I deserve a chance at love. A chance to be happy, don’t you think?”

You shifted your gaze to the Earl, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Your emotion had become thick in your voice the longer you’d spoken, and you now had to gulp down a lump in your throat.

“Yes, of course, I do,” the Earl answered sympathetically. He twitched as if he wanted to take a step closer to you, but ultimately he did not. He stayed where he was.

So... you took a step closer to him.

“Is your offer of marriage still available?”

Oh, wait, what? You -- you’d just asked that?

For real?

The Earl’s eyes widened momentarily, but he barely hesitated in answering, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

You let out a shaky breath. You pulled the corners of your lips into a tiny smile. You nodded.

“Then I accept.”

Well, well, well.

You certainly weren’t following in the footsteps of Lizzy Bennet now, were you?

Part 8

#bap #bap scenarios #bap imagines #bap au #bap fluff #bap fanfic #yongguk #bang yongguk #yongguk scenarios #yongguk imagines #yongguk au #yongguk fluff #yongguk fanfic #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop pride and prejudice

[ladywolfmd]

Ars Longa Vita Brevis

Summary: "The Art is long. Life is Short." - Hippocrates Jon is a fresh board certified Trauma Surgeon, attending conventions and workshops in between looking for a hospitals and moonlighting to start on a real practice. On one convention hosted by The Emergency Medicine Department of Casterly Rock Metropolitan Hospital, he chances upon seeing Dr. Sansa Stark, a fifth year Neurosurgery Resident. The last time Jon saw Sansa, she was a first year med student while he was a third year and were both attending a summer suturing workshop in Highgarden.

(You can read this in AO3 too: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11545893

"Attention passengers, this is your captain speaking. We are just about to touch down at Lannisport Airport in about 10 minutes, and we are on time. The weather around Lannisport is clear and sunny and will remain throughout this summer solstice. Thank you for flying with us today."

Jon had just woken up with a start, the weight of sleepless nights after taking on extra shifts from two hospitals he was moonlighting in at Storm's End, still weighed heavy on his lids. Ever since he passed the oral boards - the final frontier before he could officially call himself a licensed Trauma Surgeon - five months ago, he's been busy scouting hospitals that would take him on so he could start his practice. So in between applications and waiting, and of course, after a well-deserved, long overdue vacation he took, (He went sandboarding in Dorne, with his co-residents, Ed and Ned. Namely, Edric Storm, and Edric Dayne), he was moonlighting in different ERs, joining medical missions, and of course, attending many conventions and workshops to keep sharp.

And this time, he would be going to a postgraduate course in Casterly Rock.

While waiting for the plane to land, he lazily looked out his window and marveled when he saw the outline of the famous Rock come to view even from still high up. The massive stone hill was the second tallest structure in Westeros, second only to the Hightower Castle in Oldtown, while The Wall rounded up the three as the third highest.

The unmistakeable rock indeed looked like a lion staring up the sun, and much as I wasn't a fan of the Lannisters in general (because frankly who is?), the Rock was indeed looking beautiful the closer we approach. Jon thought. Especially the ostentatious castle, which looked like a golden beacon on top of the hill - like an offering to the gods.

As the plane descended, Jon watched as even the waters of the Sunset Sea gleamed ochre, proving its namessake with the sun setting over it while red sails with golden lions dotting over the bay, signaling that they were now approaching the famous docks of Lannisport.

As more of the walled city showed itself, more reds, golds and lions as adorned by the uniforms of the men of the City Watch were everywhere,  making Jon fight the urge to roll his eyes.

At least you had to hand it to the Lannisters. Spare no expense indeed and this will only get more grand and obnoxious in  an in-your-face-you-are-in-Lannister-territory obnoxious, the closer we enter the lion's den.

Jon suddenly thought of his uncle Viserys and aunt Dany - and this time he didn't hold back from rolling his eyes.

Dragonstone wasn't better. He shook his head and chuckled, the view of the runway coming closer and closer as they approached.

Dragons and Lions and too bold colors. He shook his head again.

I prefer Direwolves.

This time he smiled more genuinely.

Once they landed in LanX, Jon was impressed with the service, for indeed, it was truly one of the world's best, never mind that Jon has never seen as many blondes in his life and he was just at the airport.

It only took Jon barely ten minutes through luggage and the checks when he was already on a shuttle to his hotel in Casterly.

The twenty minute ride went without issue. Jon was thanking the old gods that his cabbie wasn't chatty so he was able to enjoy the view of the Sunset Sea as it stretched out from up the skyway.

He took a moment to pull out the brochure and program souvenir they mailed him after he registered.

"The Emergency Medicine Department of Casterly Rock Metropolitan Hospital, welcomes you to its 78th Annual Postgraduate Course with this year's topic: "Breaking Brains and Bones" An Update on Head Traumas and Fractures, Approaches in the E.R."

Venue: The Lann Regency Hotel

July 12-13, 2012

The course was open to all specialties and even general practitioners and all allied health professionals but most of those who were going were, of course, Emergency Medicine specialists, General Surgeons, Trauma Surgeons - like me -  Internists, and of course, with the topic, Neurologists, Neurosurgeons, and Orthopedic Surgeons.

Neurology was always a waterloo of Jon since medschool and since he won't be able to avoid head and spine traumas in the E.R., he quickly grabbed the opportunity to attend when Rhaenys, his older sister by his father, showed the ad for it when she visited him in Storm's End while she was attending an Obstetrics convention held there.

"Try and explore The Rock while you're there. For all the pride the Lannisters have, it's well founded there. It's honestly beautiful once you get past the sea of blondes," Rhaenys chuckled. "Anyway, you'll see Dr. Tyrion there and maybe Sarella."

Jon smiled. Dr. Tyrion Lannister was one of his favorite professors at Dragonstone University where he studied. He was a Neurophysiologist but was more famous for being a Bioethicists. He was also scheduled to do a lecture for the course and he'd be sure to attend.

Sarella Martell, however, was his sibling's cousins from their mother.  She was an Anesthesiologist who specialized in Orthopedic cases as well as a Toxicologist like her father, Dr. Oberyn Maryell.

His thoughts were broken his phone rang. Dany. Daenerys Targaryen, Jon's aunt.

"Hello?"

"Jon! Are you in Casterly already?" came his aunt's cheerful voice.

"Almost. Still in the cab. How'd you know?"

"Drogo saw your name on the listings. He's asking if you're also staying at the Regency."

Drogo was Aunt Dany's husband. They met when she was assigned as a diplomat in Pentos. Drogo, in turn, was an Ortho jock there and it was no surprise that he would also be attending. Why didn't I think of this earlier?

"I'm staying at the Regency. Give me his number, I'll call and maybe we'll get drinks later," Jon always liked Drogo. Sure he could easily murder an army with his bare hands, but he was actually a decent guy - and putty in Dany's tiny hands. He smirked.

"Great! I'll send it. We've actually been there before so he could show you around. Tomorrow's the start of your thing, right?"

"Aye,"

"Perfect. I"ll tell him. Enjoy your time there - but not too much! Remember, dragons are better than puny lions," she giggled. "And you are still a dragon no matter what."

He snorted. "Okay." I changed my name, okay! Move on.

"The next responsible thing to do is to tell you to go meet a girl while you're there but I don't think I could stomach you bringing a Lannister to join our bloodline," she gagged. "Soooo... the compromise is to say, have fun and don't forget to use protection!"

Jon hung up, embarrassed, before he could hear her cackling on the other line.

Trust Dany to take a jab at my on-again, off-again relationship with Ygritte Ryder, an EMT I met in Skagos where she lived. Sure we weren't labeled or constant, but long-distance would do that to you. She's still my first love or infatuation or whatever worked and we talked and met up as we could, but we both knew that we were just each others 'in-betweens' until 'the one' comes along. I was nothing but fond of her and we did try more seriously but we both knew there was something that was amiss.

Before Jon could think further, the cabbie alerted him.

"We're here sir."

Jon stepped out the cab, grabbed his bags, and paid the driver before turning around and facing the entrance of the hotel.

The entrace of the Lann Regency was just as lavish as most everything was at Casterly. It was fronted by a giant fountain with the bottom filled with golden coins as part of the decoration, while the red tinted double glass doors were framed with a pair of pouncing lion statues made of gold of course.

Cars and shuttles and even limousines with flags came and went, with people, some in business suits, some in more casual travel ones, mostly went up looking to check in. Like Jon, most of the doctors opted to fly in a day or night earlier.

With one last look behind him, Jon started walking up.

"Here we go."

Day 1

After two of three sessions in the morning, they were given a fifteen minute coffee break. And breaks like these usually meant making the rounds on the different booths of the sponsors, set outside the plenary halls which included, for the majority, the different pharmaceutical and medical equipment companies, promoting and selling old and new products.

Jon was looking at one booth that sold surgical instruments from the brand he favored. While he was comparing the different pocket minor sets, Drogo came up behind him holding two black coffees.

Jon accepted one and thanked the hulking doctor with the long pony tail to match his long beard. "Thanks."

Drogo nodded. "Minor sets?" He looked at the table Jon was examining.

"Aye. Can't have enough of them," Jon half-smiled.

Drogo answered with a nod again, moving towards the drills and rods. Like Jon, he wasn't  much of a talker - well, a sober Drogo anyway. Jon almost smirked at the memory of Drogo slurring along last night and drunk calling Dany. Almost because he also remembered his wake up call this morning with Dany telling him off for not keeping Drogo in check.

He looked him over and was impressed that there was not a trace of drinking on him. "So, Dany woke me up this morning."

Drogo leaned back as he laughed boomingly, his ponytail almost knocking out a guy behind him. He slapped Jon's back a little too hard then that if it weren't for all those long hours in basic army training he had, he'd have flown across the room.

Jon glared at him but Drogo just shrugged at him sheepishly. "The moon of my life is a woman of many words."

Just then we heard a girly voice. "Jon! Drogo!"

The two of them turned around and saw a short young woman with olive skin, dark curly hair and equally dark eyes. Sarella. She grinned when she finally reached them. "Hi."

"Hi Sarella."

Drogo, again, just nodded but at least he was smiling.

"Rhaenys told me you two would be here. I was just talking to Tyrion when his bitchy aunt Genna cut me off and shooed me away," she grumbled.

Dr. Genna Lannister was another famous Lannister, and like all Lannisters who were doctors, her field was neurologic as well. She was a Pediatric Neurologist and like most Pedia Neuros, she was a cutthroat bitch.

"Where are they now?"

Sarella's eyes brightened then. "Oh! I saw them going to the Research presentations from the Neurosurgery residents in Hall B." She eyed me then. "You should come, Jon. I saw your cousin's poster presentation, and she's one of the presenters - also the highly favored to win at that."

Cousin?

She noticed my confusion and exchanged a glance at Drogo who just shrugged at her. "Your cousin, Jon? Sansa Stark?"

Sansa - Sansa Stark...

She sighed impatiently. "You know. Tall. Very Pretty. Blue eyes. Red hair."

Oh.

"Seven hells, right, right. Of course. She's on her," Jon paused and did a mental math, "Fifth year?" How could I forget?

Sarella threw her hands up. "Finally! Yes. Honestly Jon, and to think that Rhaenys told me you were more Stark than Targaryen. You forgot your own cousin."

Jon felt a little guilty then. But among his Stark cousins, he wasn't particularly close to Sansa even though she was the only one who joined the medical field among them. He knew her as the pretty one or the doctor one. Between her attending boarding school at Highgarden and training at Oldtown, they really didn't get to meet each other often enough. Just a couple of times and mostly never went beyond polite greetings. Frankly, Jon didn't know how to talk to her.

"Come on, lets show our support!" Sarella all but linked one arm each with Jon and Drogo.

Drogo looked amused as Sarella, petite as she was, was leading two broody men to the hall.

Sansa.

Jon tried to remember the last time he saw her. And then he felt even more guilty when he remembered it was roughly nine years ago. But to his credit, he practically lived in the hospital ever since he started his residency and he was sure it was the same for Sansa. Residency meant missing family occasions, social gatherings - everything that entailed you have a life, basically.

He knew that, he swore he did. He knew she was on a neurosurgery residency at the Citadel Hospital. If there was one thing he remembered at the top of his head, it was this one because her entering the program drew attention. First because everyone assumed that she was going to Plastics with her delicate almost invisible stitching skills or maybe even Dermatologic Surgery for her natural beauty and genius-level IQ. But no. She wanted Neurosurgery. The "top of the totem pole" in the surgical elite - Jon rolled his eyes muttering 'god complexes' - but also the specialty that was sexist, continuing to be the most male-dominated field. Robb, her brother though, cleared that up after he told Jon that she was doing it for their brother Bran who was crippled at an early age after a freak accident near The Wall.

Nine years though.

July 2003

Jon was practicing his knot tying when he heard a frustrated huff from the table next to his on his right.

He looked to his side and saw a girl with red hair tied in one long braid, who was also practicing her knot tying - her brows were drawn together in concentration as she started undoing the knot she made - a clear indication that she did it wrong because a good knot was one that held but could easily be undone with one strategic pull or cut.

He looked around and he wasn't surprised that there were no other people who are practicing. After the morning session, most were still out for lunch. They were in a two-day basic suturing workshop at Ashford.

After another sigh, Jon worked up the courage to walk up to the girl who, from the looks of it, was definitely younger than him, but somehow was oddly familiar though he couldn't place her. He was lucky that he already mastered knot tying last year when he was still a second year medical student. But that took many frustrating moments such as what she was experiencing now. He was only able to master it because he looked for someone to teach him better and figured maybe that's what she needed too.

"Um, excuse me," he tried to smile through his nerves.

She looked up at him then and Jon saw the bluest eyes he's ever seen, rendering him mute for a moment.

Seven hells, a pretty girl. What am I doing?

But the girl blinked and looked at him as if she was trying to place him too but she didn't say anything and that was when he remembered that she was probably waiting for him to proceed.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck nervously and tried to smile. "Hi. I'm sorry. I - I, uh, doyouneedhelp?"

Her cheeks colored as she looked down, biting her lip, muttering an embarrassed and slightly defiant, "I'm good. Thanks."

Jon was tempted to go back to his seat but something pushed at him to keep talking to her. Struggling for words, he looked down instead to her knot tying kit and guessed where she was having trouble. On the dummy was one perfect square knot. His guess would be she was having problems with tying the second knot.

"One hand or two?" Jon tried again.

She reddened some more and sighed before looking up at him and admitting in a small voice. "Both actually."

Jon smiled kindly then. "The second knot is always the hardest. Especially if you have two left hands," he tried to joke. Cursing himself right after for how corny it was but her reaction encouraged him to continue.

A corner of her lips turned up and her eyes were warmer, never mind that there was a raised brow at that. "You know how to do it then?"

Jon nodded. "I know how to do it...I can teach you, if you want."

She smiled at him more genuinely then and motioned for the seat beside her.

Jon took his own set and placed it beside hers. "Okay, I'll show you how to do it first and then we'll do it together, sounds good?"

She nodded. "Sounds good."

"We'll start with one hand," he said as he started on tying the first knot. "Now for the second," he made the mistake of looking at her to see if she was watching and saw that indeed she was. She was watching alright, and watching very very closely, he could feel her breath on him.

Her eyes met his then and she frowned. "Why'd you stop? Go on."

Jon's neck turned pink and he swallowed before showing her how to do the second knot. "See? The trick is to know the position of the thumb. Wanna try it now?"

She nodded and quickly went to her own kit, while waiting for Jon to undo the knots. Step by step, Jon taught her while she mirrored perfectly on her own and after a couple of doing it on her own she beamed up at Jon.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Jon laughed nervously but felt some pride that he made her smile happily. She was a quick study, this student of his. He was right in thinking she just needed better instructions and to be honest - the instructions for this workshop was too complicated.

"Thank you," She grinned at him.

He blushed. "You're welcome. It's Jon by the way."

Her smile fell a little and Jon panicked.

She eyed him curiously before breaking into a smirk. "You don't remember me at all, do you? I mean, we met just once before but still."

Jon's eyes bulged and he wracked his brain but came up blank. He was sure he'd remember someone as beautiful as her.

She giggled then and arched a brow. "I'll give you a clue since you were kind enough to help me. My name is Sansa. Sansa...Stark." She grinned and Jon cursed.

"Fuck. Of course! Seven hells, you're one of Robb's little sisters." Red hair. Blue eyes. She could pass as Robb's twin and she looked like Aunt Catelyn. Was this really the prissy little girl in pigtails?

She giggled again. "Took you long enough. But to be fair to you, we never really 'met' met, did we?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I guess not, but still, I should've known. I'm sorry."

She chuckled. "It's okay. Between boarding school and starting right away at Citadel, I wasn't home much, more so with my parent's functions." She shrugged. "We're not allowed to have lives, remember?" She winked conspiratorially.

He laughed back and nodded. "We don't have lives so we can save yours, and all."

She blinked at him then and grinned. "I want that tattooed on my body!"

"Sorry, but I already got you beat on that," he winked.

She pouted.

"I'm kidding," Jon grinned.

"Then we'll get a matching set when we both pass the MLE. Do you promise?" She held up her pinky.

"That means I'd have to wait - When do you start med anyway?"

"I'll be a freshman come September,"  she said proudly.

His forehead crinkled. "Aren't you in college still?"

"I skipped two grades and I went for the straight program, just like you," she said smugly.

"Oh! So you're the Know-it-all-Stark!"

She smacked him then. "That's Bran but I'm pretty smart too."

He rubbed his arm. "Right. Sorry. First year huh? Isn't it too early to learn suturing?"

She raised a brow again and her smile fell. "Too early?"

Great, I insulted her. "I didn't mean it that way, I meant, I - they teach you that on your second year."

That seemed to placate her. "You're studying in Storm's End, right? So you're...a third year?"

"Incoming," I nodded.

"Any sage advice then?" she leaned closer.

Jon thought for a moment before answering with a smile. "Take as many vacations as you can. Better yet, don't waste anymore of this summer. After tomorrow, fly off somewhere - anywhere. Start medschool when you start medschool. Either way, no matter how hard you prepare, at the beginning, you know nothing."

Her forehead puckered. "Really?"

Jon regarded her, and remembered being as excited as she was when he was finally going to medschool but quickly got a dose of cold water over how very unglamorous it was. It was a sleep when you're dead situation every day. "Well...not to ruin your excitement and all but... I mean, I love it despite how hard it is but... I just - I would've appreciated it if someone told me how hard it really is, you know? Not put it up in a pedestal and such. Everywhere there is a hierarchy even in the smallest way. Fuck - I'm sorry. Don't listen to me, I'm just rambling," he tried to backpedal when he saw the light in her eyes dimming.

He stopped when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked up and Sansa was smiling at him warmly. "It's okay...Jon. I kind of get what you're saying. I mean, I had an idea it's going to be tough but I had no idea it's like that. I mean, I was only worried about lack of sleep and missing out on family occasions but that's not all I'm in for, is it?"

He examined her. "You want the whole truth?"

She looked at him pleadingly and felt a squeeze on his arm - a reminder that she hadn't taken off her hand from him then. "Please. I...I'm not exactly from a family of doctors. Well...you're my only hope as my only medical relative, it falls to you then."

Shit. Right. Both of us would be the first Stark to be doctors. Well, more her than me anyway. "Okay. Why don't we get lunch first?"

She started beaming at him then. "Sounds great - so you know all these stuff already?"

Jon nodded uneasily. "Uh, somewhat. I want to be a surgeon."

"Yay! That means you are the best teacher! I want to be a surgeon too. Teach me when I get stuck again?" She asked looking up at him hopefully.

"I'll do my best," Jon agreed. As if anyone can say no to that look. Was this what Robb was telling me about? Bambi eyes? Or was that his youngest brother?

Once she was comfortable enough, Sansa talked Jon's ear off halfway through their lunch at a nearby diner they went to and he did his best to keep up and true to his promise, gave her all the tips he could think of to help Sansa adjust once she starts formal medschool while Sansa soaked it all up and asked many questions and hung on to his every word.

Jon thought her smart and witty, a fast learner, and of course, stubborn like the rest of the Starks, but she was also very passionate.

As he watched her wave goodbye at him before driving off the following day, Jon thought that Sansa would be fine.

As long as she holds on to that passion, she'll be a great doctor.

Jon blinked back at the memory of that one summer he got to know Sansa a little bit and wondered why that was the last they saw each other in person. Well, last that they actually interacted face to face anyway.

Sure he got the occasional messages - mostly her asking him about some subjects and topics and yes, he'd check in on her - he was, after all, her only relative in the field and he took that role seriously, well at first.

At first because, their medical lives really did get in the way. He couldn't check on her as much as he could - he could barely even take care of himself!

And he really believed that she was doing more than well and would only need him on her first year tops and barely even. At most, they'd message each other on holidays and occasions, asking if one was as stuck as the other - wishing each other a happy hospital/school holiday. But that stopped too by Sansa's third year - Jon's internship year. And from then on, nothing from both ends.

Robb always talked about her proudly, especially Uncle Ned. I only heard good things about her, surely she was doing fine - more than fine. I heard she graduated from Citadel at the top of her class and she did get into their Neurosurgery program - one of the toughest to get into.

Surely, she'd still be the bright-eyed go-getter girl she met that summer right?

Jon couldn't be any more wrong.

The Sansa that he saw was no longer the slow to warm, shy at first girl with her long red braids, curious blue eyes, and always with a ready smile girl he met that summer - filled with dreams and brimming with excitement for starting those dreams.

The first thing that he noticed was the hair.

Her long wavy hair that curled at the ends and shone with the prettiest shade of red he's ever seen (yes even better than Ygritte's and gods knew how much he liked hers too) was now cut so short, the back looked cropped - shaved even and though the tips still curled, they barely went past her ears.

Jon couldn't understand why but seeing Sansa's hair like that really took him back. But he shook that off and tried to see - hoped to see if that was the only thing that she'd have to change. But it wasn't.

Her hair only made her features sharper, her high cheek bones were more pronounced, and higher - her eyes - her eyes that were so warm and honest before, looked impassive, cold and firm just like the rest of her.

She was sitting with all the poise of a queen with ankles tucked into each other at the side instead of legs crossed, and her hands were primly set on top of her lap while she kept her chin slightly lifted as she watched the current presenter silently.

The only sign of hope for the girl he met was that underneath her long white coat - a requirement for some residents to wear to presentations like these so they could show their hospital logos - she was wearing a dress the same color as her eyes.

"Wow, Jon. Your cousin is gorgeous!" Sarella elbowed me. "But... oh her hair! She had such beautiful long hair then but she can pull this  pixie cut too."

Jon nodded dumbly, unable to tear his eyes off of her. She was still beautiful. Even more to be honest. She'd be bald and still be beautiful. And Sarella noticed the change because she was three years Sansa's senior in Citadel U where she went too before going back to Dorne for her residency, he briefly remembered.

"Tough. She looks like she's ready to fight," Drogo added. "Fierce eyes."

I couldn't agree more. Jon nodded again. There was a toughness in her that screamed intimidation despite the cool and calm exterior.

And when she stood to take her turn at the stage, Jon started to understand quickly how the change came about.

A hush went over the crowd as she was introduced and remained while she walked towards the podium. She walked - no - almost floated so gracefully yet there was a confidence in her Jon hadn't seen before.

It was there that he heard the voices - all from guys while the moderator continued listing off Sansa's credentials.

"Oh she's up."

"Yes. The Ice Princess is next."

"More like frigid snob."

Jon's brow ticked and he was about to turn around and beat up whoever the voices belonged to when he felt a hand gripping his arm and saw Sarella shaking her head then giving the same look to Drogo whose jaw was clenched so tightly.

"I don't care how smart she is. I still don't think she's a good fit for the program," continued the airy voice. "There's only so far book-smart can get you. I mean, sure, she has skills yes, but if one has to work double time - give that much effort to do the job then maybe that extra effort would be better off in a...less critical field."

"He's only saying that because she was praised and he was scolded on one of Dr. Jaime Lannister's ORs they were both assisting in," the other voice pointed out.

A snort, probably from the arrogant one. "Please. Everyone knows he's only being sweet on her to get access to that ass."

Jon's jaw clenched while Sarella held back a disgusted sniff and Drogo was starting to get scarily silent more than usual.

"And now, he's just saying that because he tried and failed in tapping that ass too."

The assholes chuckled.

"I'm just saying that a woman is not cut out to belong in Neurosurgery."

"Shhhhhh!" Jon craned his neck at the direction of the angry shushing and saw a tall bearded guy with long red hair glaring at them. "Will you cunts shut up? We all came to listen to her not to you pricks gossiping like hens with cocks." A Northern accent. Jon smiled. Northern loyalty right there. He then glanced Jon's way and noted their tight expressions and glared back at the rude men. "Shut up, listen, and clap for your co-resident or get the fook out. Fooking cunts."

Who are you and can we shake your hand or give you a medal? Wait. Co-residents?

Jon looked behind then and saw that the seats two rows behind them were occupied by residents - Citadel Hospital Neurosurgery embroidered with the lighthouse logo on their coats. That only served to tick him off more.

Sansa was presenting for them! I mean, I knew neurosurgery was competitive as fuck but with each other and at home base at least! Not in fucking contests like these. Jon bristled.

Thanks to the redhead, they finally shut up and remained that way like good residents did when reprimanded by an attending and great timing too because Sansa was just about to start on her presentation. Still Jon couldn't get over it.

"Stop it," Sarella hissed. "It's just the jealousy talking - that and being threatened by a woman nonetheless," Sarella hissed in his ear. "Sexist pigs."

"Fine." Jon focused instead on the girl he thought to have a crush on that two-day summer they had and saw the woman she'd become the more he watched her speak.

"Good morning doctors. I'm here to present to you my research entitled: Invasive versus Non-invasive approach to treating CPSP or Central Post-stroke Pain, a Meta-analytic review..."

Jon couldn't believe the transformation. Sansa exuded a quiet confidence that was the right amount of pride and grace. Her presentation was clear, to the point, and though there were many technical stuff she discussed that he wasn't familiar with, she was able to present it in a way that anyone, no matter what specialty, could get unlike the first who didn't care about the audience as he kept dropping flashy jargons simply said to impress. Sansa didn't need any embellishments. Her topic alone was attention worthy. Neuropathic pain or nerve pain was the hardest pain to treat.

And this was also where Jon saw some of the old Sansa he met. When he realized that Sansa didn't just present a case to win, she was presenting a topic that she resonated with and something she wants to both educate and call more attention from for its importance and impact not just for her colleagues, but across the different specialties. It was the sincerity in her voice and the thorough research she put in that would win this for her and true enough, at the end of this event, she did.

As she received her certificate and the ten thousand dragon check for her department's choice of charity foundation, all three of them stood up and applauded her first before everyone else joined in.

Her eyes found Jon then and she grinned briefly before settling into a simpler and humbler close lipped smile.

She was still in there. Jon grinned in relief. They haven't transformed her truly yet.

He looked back to gloat at her less than supportive co-residents who were clapping either half-heartedly or just simply politely. Well, at least, half of them. Some were clapping more enthusiastically with actual pride in their eyes. There was hope for them too.

"She won. As if there was anyone else," Sarella said loudly while she nudged at me.

Jon puffed out his chest and agreed loudly too. "It was hardly a competition."

Drogo grinned wickedly directly at the residents.

"Now you see, you fooking greenboys. That's how it's done," came the redhead.

Drogo called him over and they grabbed each other's hands and pulled themselves together for the manliest hug Jon's ever seen. Somehow I'm not that surprised that they know each other.

"Drogo, you shite, how've you been? Heard you got yourself whipped by a woman," the redhead bellowed before taking note of Sarella. "So are you the woman who finally whipped the Khal's giant horse arse?"

Sarella only laughed and shook her head. "That's my aunt you're talking about and she does hold the whip for this one," she poked Drogo who didn't look one bit ashamed as he shrugged. Sarella offered her hand then. "Sarella Martell, by the way. Anes and Tox for Dorne." He shook her hand and introduced himself. "Tormund Giantsbane - don't ask. Trauma surg in Eastwatch Veterans." He leaned down then and whispered loudly while looking at Drogo. "And I'll only believe he's whipped when I see it," he winked, making her laugh and Drogo roll his eyes.

He then looked at Jon and offered his hand to him too. Jon took it and gave Tormund a firm shake. "Jon Snow. Trauma too, no affiliations yet."

"Ah. Fresh off the boards? Wanna consider taking it up North?"

Jon was about to say that he was in fact, looking to work in the Northern peninsula where he could be far away from being the political son in King's Landing - also, the same reasoning for changing his last name, when Sarella interrupted.

"He's also the cousin of the presenter you defended," she piped up.

Tormund grumbled then. "Couldn't let them get away with that. Where I'm from, women and men don't matter. As long as you can do the job, then by all  means, do it. Besides, Northerners stick together and I wasn't about to let them badmouth a fellow redhead." He then punched Drogo and Jon. "Just as we bearded men need to stick together."

Jon  winced a bit as Tormund belly laughed while Drogo raised his brows and crossed his arms before he looked at me. "Shouldn't you go to her?"

He reddened. "I - yes. Of course."

Sarella flashed a knowing smile at Jon that Tormund caught. "Why don't you go on ahead?" she suggested.

"Yeah, go try and steal her away from the horde," he grinned wickedly for someone Jon just met. "Little miss here needs to show me a picture of the woman whose got Drogo's balls in her hand."

Sarella's eyes lit up. "Ooh wait!"

Drogo gave Jon a knowing smirk before he whipped out his phone and showed Tormund pictures of Rhaego, his and Dany's two-year old son. "This is the Stallion that will mount the world," he said proudly.

"Good pecker on that one. Nice job, for Khal Drogo," Tormund looked up at Drogo impressed.

Shit, I didn't even ask about Rhaego and he's a cousin too. Wait - cousin. Right.

Jon scanned the hall and found her talking to his great-uncle Aemon who was a Neuropsychiatrist.

He gathered his courage and started walking over to them. It was his uncle who saw him first. "Ah, Sansa, have you met with my great-nephew, and if memory serves me correctly, your cousin?"

She turned around then and gave Jon a bright but shy smile. She's even prettier up close. "Jon," she said, his name a soft whisper on her lips.

Jon chuckled nervously. "Sansa, hey." Should I go for a hug? Wait, we haven't done that before, have we?

Sansa stepped closer but hesitated like Jon did before she finally went in for a brief hug. She smells great. Jon's first thought before remembering to hug her back. They pulled away quickly, looking at each other awkwardly with Sansa tucking her hair behind her ear twice and Jon rubbing at his neck.

Man up, Jon. "Congratulations, Sansa. You were great up there."

She smiled shyly. "Thank you Jon."

He cleared his throat. "You look great. I mean, how are you?" He cursed inwardly.

Sansa's corner lip quirked but she didn't call him out. "Thanks and oh you know. Alive and surviving," she lifted a shoulder yet Jon caught something briefly in her eyes but before he could say anything, she shifted the topic to him. "I however am unforgivably late with my congratulations. I saw you in the top ten for your specialty boards. Congratulations, Jon." She reached up and gave Jon a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling away and giving an apologetic smile.  "Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," he immediately answered.

She pouted. "Well, forgive me for not keeping contact since - it's been too long and I've been rude."

He shook his head. "It's okay, for that I'm equally to blame. But how are you - really? You're almost at the finish line."

She blinked then and tried to give a too bright smile. "It won't be long now, yes."

We heard a cough behind us and to Jon's horror he forgot his great-uncle was still there and Sansa looked equally ashamed too. "So I take it you've met then."

"Of course. Jon helped me adjust for my first year in med school and he taught me how to stitch my first suture," she recovered quickly while Jon shifted uneasy with praise.

"I hardly helped. She would've done great with or without me," he shrugged.

Sansa was about to protest when we saw her co-residents approaching. Immediately, Sansa's demeanor shifted.

Her back stiffened and her face smoothened into her neutral mask.

There were five of them, all with closely cropped or completely shaven heads that was the signature of most neurosurgery residents across most programs - a sign of solidarity for their patients that they'd have to shave as part of the OR preparations as they say, but really it was just one more form of soft hazing. It didn't apply to female residents but Jon guessed Sansa parted with her long locks to prove a point. One of them was always flanked, moving ahead of their assembly like geese in the air - another show of hierarchy.

That one, had unfeeling violet eyes he trained at Sansa. "Congratulations, Dr. Stark," he managed but Jon couldn't see the sincerity and he also recognized that voice as being the arrogant one. Finally a face for the voice.

Sansa gave a nod and a small smile. "Thank you Dr. Dayne." Finally a name for the face.

She then turned to Jon and Dr. Aemon and introduced them. "Dr. Aemon, Jon, these are my seniors. This is Dr. Gerold Dayne, our chief resident," she motioned to the leader. "And this is Dr. Humfrey Hightower the deputy chief, Dr. Lyman Darry, and Dr. Horas Redwyne. Doctors, of course, you know Dr. Aemon. And this is Dr. Jon T-Jon Snow, Trauma Surgeon and my cousin." She almost slipped on Jon's name but it touched him all the same that even without communication, she was updated making him feel doubly guilty.

They of course, greeted Dr. Aemon readily and only politely regarded Jon who didn't really mind. Dr. Aemon excused himself and that was when Dr. Dayne started on Sansa.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important, but I have need of you Dr. Stark," he raised a brow at her and Jon once again felt his brow twitching.

"Of course, Dr. Dayne," she nodded at him and shot me the subtlest apologetic look. "I - " she started.

Jon cut her off and smiled kindly. "Go. I'll see you around later or tomorrow. Sarella and Drogo said to say congratulations too but they're busy over there."

She looked where I pointed and for a moment Jon could see the look of longing in her eyes but was quickly gone when her seniors started leaving. With a final wave and a quick smile, she went and followed them. "Tell them thanks and I hope to see them too."  

"I will." There wasn't much Jon could do. It was an unfair world but Sansa had to follow an order from her senior.

Groveling, kissing ass, humiliation, unfair hours, and underpaid work - that was residency.

There were stages and there were steps in medical hierarchy. It gets better eventually on the way up but the way up is often dark and full of terrors.

There was nothing to do but just stick it out because like all ladders, eventually you get to the top.

Jon found Sansa later that night at the rooftop.

The rooftop of the Regency as converted to a VIP rooftop bar which was open for the delegates these two nights though they closed the bar at exactly midnight. By quarter, the staff would lead the guests down the VIP lounge instead where it was open all day and night citing that it was unseemly to catch guests falling asleep or getting drunk at the rooftop - safety reasons as well as snobbish pursuits. But guests may still stay as long as they are not inebriated and remain awake.

Drogo, Tormund, and Sarella went ahead while Jon chose to stay and enjoyed the quiet.

It was half past one and he was leaning on a rail, puffing on a cigarette while he watched the view of the still lit docks of Lannisport they could still see from this high up the Rock.

He thought he was alone when he saw a flash of red from the shadows.

He snuffed out his stick and threw it before walking over to investigate and almost jumped when he saw it was Sansa.

She had her back to him while she sat on top of her coat on the floor, still in her dress with her legs pressed together and tucked to the side, typing away on her laptop while she leaned against the wall.

"Sansa?"

She jumped - almost dropping her laptop but she failed in catching the glasses she was wearing when she surged forward. She recovered quickly while I crouched down, picked up her glasses that I've never seen her wear before, and handed it to her.

"Jon!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm as surprised as you are," offering her glasses once more.

Even in the dark Jon could tell she was blushing. She took the glasses from him and wore it back but she didn't look up at him muttering an embarrassed thanks.

Jon thought she looked cute with her silver frames. He bet it made her eyes looked bigger, if only she'd look at him.

"Working late, I see," Jon said before sitting down next to her.

"Yes - but, oh Jon, you don't have to sit down. You'll get your pants dirty!" she frowned.

Jon chuckled. "Says the girl sitting on her white coat."

She pressed her palms to her forehead, dislodging her glasses a bit. "I know. It's gross but can I get a pass tonight?" she tried to say cheerfully but Jon could tell she was exhausted.

"Anytime. Why aren't you in your room?"

She frowned again. "My bosses are on the same floor and I need the peace and quiet or I'll never finish," she sighed.

"What floor is that?"

"45th."

"Mine is at the 50th. You're welcome to stay there."

Sansa gave him a wry smile. "At least buy me dinner first."

It was Jon's turn to flush not realizing how he sounded. "I didn't mean - I

Sansa waved him off and chuckled. "A joke, Jon. I am still capable of it."

Jon ran a hand down his face and shook his head. "You're mean and here I was doing a -

Sansa cut him off with a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry. Thanks for the offer Jon, but I'm good here. I'm actually just polishing the report I have to hand over bright and early today," she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," Jon could only offer.

She shrugged. "S'not you're fault. It's whoever invented hierarchy," she shivered and that was when Jon noticed that she was just in a short sleeved dress that only came down to just a little below her knees. It was a little longer than what he usually saw women wear but it only made Sansa look even more lady-like which suited her just as well in Jon's opinion.  

He didn't ask just took off his coat and handed it to her wordlessly.

When she tried to protest, he raised his brow in challenge while she shivered again, causing her to bite her lip and accept it graciously.

While she shrugged it on, he walked over to the bar area and took a table cloth - the cleanest one and when he went back, he draped it over her legs before settling back beside her.

Sansa looked at him gratefully then. "Thanks Jon." She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze - like she did years ago. He smiled at her fondly then.

She dropped her smile. "You should head back and sleep."

"So should you."

She sighed. "I want to but I really need to finish this."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Do you know anything about deep nerve electrostimulation for sheep versus monkeys?"

"Uh..."

Sansa quirked her lip. "Thought so. Go on, seriously, I'll be okay. I promise I won't tell Robb you left me alone if that's what you're concerned with."

"Didn't think about him. Though that is a good reason to keep staying with you, threat of your brother and the whole Northern army," he grinned.

She sighed. "Fine, suit yourself. I might take another hour."

"Go ahead, take your time. I don't mind. it's nice up here. 60th floor and all."

"I won't be chatty until I finish," she warned.

"Shutting up now," Jon made a show of zipping his lips causing Sansa to laugh once before shaking her head and retrieving her laptop.

Jon tried not to watch her as she worked, briefly contemplating if he should get her something warm to drink since she was going to be stubborn about this.

Eventually after ten minutes, he excused himself to do just that, only earning a half-committed nod.

He came back up after fifteen minutes with two styrofoam cups filled with hot water and a takeaway bag filled with tea packets, condiments, and lemon bars (they were the only ones good to go) he bought from the lounge.

Sansa looked up at him surprised and adorable looking in his too-large coat and those damn glasses.

Jon sat beside her and pushed the bag of lemon bars at her while he took out the tea stuff. "Are you an Earl Grey or a Chamomile person?"

Sansa still looked at him stunned and possibly close to tears that Jon almost panicked. He didn't know a thing about comforting a woman in tears. He coughed and repeated his question.

Sansa looked down and played with the lid of the bag she was still holding, blushing. "E-earl Grey."

"Ear Grey it is," He started making her tea and was about to ask if she took it with sugar or honey when he saw her looking inside the bag with tears silently pouring down her face.

"S-Sansa what - "

Sansa quickly wiped her face but failed to stop the tears. She tried to smile wanly. "Sorry Jon...I don't know what came over me - it's just... it's lemon bars. I love lemon bars."

She started wiping at her face more furiously then looking annoyed at herself. "Ugh. Sorry. I'm okay, I promise. I just - I'm fine - this is stupid."

Jon understood what she's going through. She was tired, she was overworked and likely faced one form of humiliation today despite her win and now someone was being nice to her. He's been there too. Any kindness, no matter how small felt like water in a desert.

So he stopped what he was doing and crouched in front of her, gently taking her glasses off, setting them safely, then he took her hands in his before bringing her to his chest slowly, wordlessly just holding her still. Experience taught him that rubbing the back or stroking the hair only brought more hysterical tears - more less words.

Sansa stiffened at first until finally she relaxed and crumpled into his chest, just the touch of her cheek to his collar and nothing else.

This kind of crying, he knew well. It was the frustrated and tired one. It didn't need the sobbing or the hiccupping - that'll only tire you out more.

Sometimes, you just needed a good cry - just the right amount of silent tears to release some of the tension. Just enough to calm down.

After a solid five minutes, Sansa raised her head, wiped her eyes one last time and took a deep breath.

Jon released her slowly and gently but kept close in case she needed another minute. "Better?" he risked.

She smiled at him then and nodded. "Yes," she laughed nervously. "Thanks Jon. I needed that. Sorry I ruined your shirt."

Jon just shrugged. "A small sacrifice you can make up to me once you become rich and famous. My small contribution to your future success."

She laughed again, for real this time. "I'll add that to the list."

"You do that," Jon smiled. "So, ready to get back to work?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Good," he reached out and placed her glasses on her. "So. Sugar? honey?"

Sansa blushed and Jon almost did too at her reaction but he managed a smirk. "For your tea."

"Oh. Just h-honey," he heard her utter a tiny fuck that he'll let slip now.

"Honey, it is," he teased while he added it to her tea.

"You're mean."

"Sorry. Tea for apology?" He handed her the cup.

"Thanks. Apology accepted. How'd you know about the lemon bars?"

"Honestly, they were the only ones I could get fast. A lucky move then," Jon admitted sheepishly.

"Well, according to the Alchemist, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it. It must be my lucky break," she grinned while taking a bite.

Or mine. Jon thought and was quickly embarrassed for even thinking it.

What followed was companionable silence as Sansa worked. Before Jon knew it, he had dozed off.

He woke an hour and a half after with a light shake from Sansa. For a moment he forgot where he was but then he quickly adjusted when he felt his back.

"Hey, sorry to wake you but I'm actually done," she was whispering and cradling her laptop, her coat was draped in one arm, while a hand stayed on hid shoulder and from this angle he was able to take her all in better.  

Jon just blinked, too caught up in her eyes that looked midnight blue in the dark.

She bit her lip and looked apologetic. "Sorry to wake you from what I saw was a peaceful sleep but you'd probably be more comfortable in your bed than here."

Jon snapped out of it and rubbed his eyes while he stood up. "You're right. Are you really done?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yup. All done and I even cleaned up too."

Jon frowned as he took in everything. "You didn't have to do that."

She rolled her eyes. "Too late. Come on, let's get back."

They started walking back when Sansa stopped for a moment.

"What is it?"

She blinked and smiled again. "Nothing. You go back ahead. I think...I want to look at the port for a little while. I'll follow and sleep, I promise."

Jon eyed her then before holding out his hand.

Sansa looked at it and then his eyes confused.

He changed and offered his arm instead. "Come on. Let's look at the view for a moment."

Likely knowing Jon won't give up, she just smiled wider and held on to his offered arm and followed when he lead her to the view he was looking at earlier.

After watching the water break against the rocks below Sansa wrapped her arms around Jon. "Thanks for tonight, Jon. It's been a while since I've been treated like a human being."

Jon returned her hug. "Sure. Though you won't be thanking me for the many times I wanted to punch your chief today."

She looked up at him then and frowned. "You heard him and the others say nasty things about me."

"Sexist pigs," he spat Sarella's earlier comment.

Sansa chuckled then. "They're just threatened by me."

"The seven hells they should. You're brilliant and tough. Drogo thinks so too."

She grinned. "Yeah?"

"Fierce eyes, I quote."

She grinned.

"It's tough and unfair, but I have faith in you," Jon tucked a strand of her short hair, feeling mad again that she had to cut it just to prove a point.

Sansa noticed but let it slip, closing her eyes instead at the feel of Jon's fingers. "I know. I'm pretty tough too."

Jon chuckled. "I know. I was almost afraid that they've transformed you for good."

She tilted her head then. "Almost?"

"For one, you're still wearing the most lady-like dress ever, and another was your passion resonating with your research presentation," he ended with a shrug.

Sansa shook her head. "The passion, yes. I do love it - every little thing about this even the times I want to kill myself or murder them instead because why should I die when they should instead moments."

"You would've covered that up easy."

"But the dress? Really Jon?"

"Uh, I figured that was another way to prove a point. That they may take away your hair and call you mean things just because you're a woman in their sick man's world they've built up, but you showed them that you can do their jobs better in a skirt and heels too," he said proudly. "That and the fact that you're two years their junior to boot."

"Wow."

"Well, wow to you first. And I'm really glad you didn't transform into a heartless gunner," he said lightly but his eyes were sincere.

"Well the summer before freshman year of med, an incoming junior taught me more than just sewing sutures and tying knots. He told me that entering the medical world was going to be tough and unfair that I must be tougher but fairer and it stuck to me all these years," she eyed Jon impishly.

Jon couldn't hide an embarrassed grin. "Wise friend."

"Mhm," Sansa nodded. "But really, the true lesson was that, he showed me what truly made a difference between a good doctor from the rest."

"And what's that?"

Sansa took his hand and and squeezed. "Kindness," she said so softly.

Jon just looked at her with his mouth open, clearly not expecting that.

Sansa started tugging at his hand. "I'm beat. Come on."

Jon shook his head, and followed, with his heart impossibly full, and a smile he couldn't wipe off from the compliment.

Kindness.

He does know some things after all.

Day 2

When Jon woke up he decided to take a risk and ask her out when the opportunity comes within the day.

He felt that something that summer years ago but thought it was more on her adoring her excitement and zest for medicine. He figured this time, he won't wait nine years to realize it and give it a go.

But unfortunately for him, the opportunity never came.

Jon didn't see her all day and he finally found out where she was from Sarella when he met up with her in the afternoon sessions.

"Sorry Jon. I saw her earlier and she told me that she had to fly back to Oldtown right away according to the shithead boss of hers. No wonder the Daynes all but cut him off the family. Her boyfriend picked her up though and they rode his family's private jet. But before she left, she asked to give this to you," she pushed a small box at Jon's hands before he could process what she was saying.

He broke it down.

One, Sansa was on a flight back to Oldtown.

Two, she was flying with her boyfriend on her boyfriend's family's jet. How did he miss that?

And lastly, there was something in his hand.

"I don't - boyfriend?"

Sarella's eyes narrowed before widening with realization. "Oh shit."

Jon looked to her for answers.

She took his arm and sat him down. "Okay, calm down. Relax."

He didn't.

She rolled her eyes and gave up. "Apparently, it's still new. He works at Citadel Hospital too. He's Dr. Willas Tyrell, one of the Radiologists. I called my dad after I recognized him when Sansa introduced us quickly." Oberyn Martell was also an Anesthesiologist as well as an Acupuncturist among other things and he was friends with Garlan Tyrell, Willas's older brother. Jon tried to absorb as Sarella explained. "Dad said that Garlan was happy that his younger brother was finally dating."

Jon's heart dropped. "Is he...is he decent?" He didn't bother to ask about looks because he knew the Tyrells were generally good looking.

Sarella smiled sadly. "He's smart, charming, handsome, well-mannered, and kind."

Kind.

Jon felt crushed.

"But it's all still new like it's only been a month and they hardly go out with her schedule. They're probably still getting to know each other - "

But all Jon heard was kind. If he was truly kind, then it won't take long at all.

I was nine years too late.

Jon stood up then and sighed, before mustering up a smile and thanking Sarella.

"Wait! Before you go broody, she did leave you something," she pointed to the box I was still clutching.

Jon opened it then and inside was a note and something wrapped in a golden tissue-like paper.

He read the note first.

Jon,

I can't thank you enough for more than tonight. I won't forget it just as I never forgot the kind guy who took pity on me when I couldn't tie my knots. You taught me more than that though, if you recall. You told me that the sign of a good knot was for

1) how it held firmly and

2) how it could be undone by just one strategic pull only the surgeon who made it knows as well as the teacher who taught it

I didn't tell you but I kept the tie I used and stole yours when you weren't looking ;)

Now I'm giving it back attached to something that would always remind me of your knot pulling last night. (I used two handed knot tying!)

Good luck with your next step Jon! Sorry I had to go again.

Until the next time we meet then (Under better circumstances I hope)

Sansa

Jon unwrapped the other gift and held it up.

He smiled when he saw a golden replica keychain of the hotel with the blue practice tie, knotted in a perfect surgical knot twice on the chain.

"See? There's hope still. They're not married yet," Sarella grinned.

Jon rolled his eyes and shushed her when Dr. Tyrion Lannister started talking.

"Okay. Last session for this course, I hope you are still awake and alive. I shall try to make this as short and as entertaining as I can. In short, all my visual aids will be anatomically perfect for everyone and I've spiked the next batch of coffee," he grinned. "Alright, I have your attention now? Well if not at least even before I speak my topic I already have your money in my pocket so we're all good here."

Laughter.

"Let me start with a favorite anecdote especially since I see a lot of residents from all over here with eyebags darker than the balls of an elephant and I could pick out the fresh board passers from the crowd easy as pie. Okay, are you ready?"

Ars longa,

vita brevis,

occasio praceps,

experimentum periculosum,

lucidum difficile

"Hippocrates, our father of Medicine said, 'The art is long, life is short, opportunity fleeting, experiment dangerous, and judgment difficult.'" He paused. "It's a tough challenge, we chose to pursue for a living. And it never ends for we keep on learning. It's hard, and more often than not, as much as we want to save lives, we want to kill our fellow doctors just as much too," he paused again but this time from the laughter that erupted from the crowd.

He raised his hand for silence before he continued. "But in the end, it's still the life we chose and thus we have no choice but to keep on living it for as long as we can. We have failures, we have triumphs, but most of all we keep on trying. But also remember, not to forget the third line. 'Occasio praceps.'

"Some opportunities come once in a lifetime. In the occasion that you miss it once, and it presents itself again, don't be a dumbass and grab it by the balls, tie it up, and never let go."

Jon swallowed and clutched the keychain in his pocket.

"Now then, I can begin."

As Dr. Tyrion went on his lecture, Jon was only half-listening.

As much as he wants Sansa happy and he truly does even if it's with someone else, he'll still hold on and hope.

They were still young.

They still had time.

"Art is long, after all," he muttered as he glanced down at the knot Sansa gave him.

#jonsa #fanfiction #jon snow #Sansa Stark #jon snow x sansa stark #fanfic #doctors AU #modern westeros #ladymdfic

[wish4youff]

06 ~ Not Knowing

King

The tenderness in my shoulders and arms disappeared, the cold water eventually causing everything to go numb the longer I stood there. My eyes closed tightly as if I was escaping something by blocking out the image of it. Which may be true considering the fact I was afraid to see the blue veins in my body popping up from the lack of heat it was now receiving. I didn’t want to face the reality that for the third time I had cheated death. My ego should be on a power booster right now, but instead I was more terrified than thrilled. Scared of the possibilities of the next time this challenge presented itself I wouldn’t win. Slamming my hand down on the faucet, the chilling sensation stopped in a matter of seconds. Making me miss it, weirdly enough. Opening the glass door of the shower, I avoided the mirror in front of me. Reaching I grabbed the white towel; wrapping it around my lower half before walking into the bedroom of my suite at Loews Regency. My mind wondered throughout the time I dressed myself in the black Gucci slacks which was paired with a long sleeve black Polo shirt. I dropped some argan oil in my hands before rubbed it through my hair, all awhile I contemplated on my next move. I hate New York, I do. Yet, I find myself here for business and personal visits far too much for my likening.

Fully dressed I headed to the door of the door of my Grand Executive Suite, dropping my room key, phone, and wallet in the designated pockets. The doorman bid me a goodbye once downstairs, politely nodding his head in my direction and thankfully I could master up enough kindness in my soul to acknowledge and wish the same upon him.  The driver of a black Tahoe presented himself to me not a second later, saying the same-ole’ paid greeting before opening the back door of the truck and allowing me to adjust myself inside before closing it and walking back to his side. It took a matter of seconds to pull off into the early afternoon traffic of Midtown, New York.

“Vitale!” The sound of my name, last and probably favorable to the public, caused me to look up and come face to face with Ibrahim. Entering completely into the building from the pat down and search. My credentials got me this far; I shouldn’t be surprised he knew I had arrived. The smile and excitement told me he was genuinely happy to see me. That felt good especially in this business. You never know who’s real and fake. I keep those around me that I’ve known for years bedside by now I know their moves and how they think.

And I’m sure that’s vice versa; especially with my title here.

“What’s good man?”

It had been a few weeks since I last saw him in New York after the murder of Flowers. Of course, we’ve spoken since, he called and told me about the case of Demetrius letting me know that it was indeed a personal love affair conflict. Was it solved? Not so much. Apart from business, Ibrahim had a wedding happening in about four weeks with his long-time college girlfriend Victoria Evans. The main reason I’m here today; he was finally taking the groomsmen to pick out our tuxedos. It feels good to do something normal for a few hours. Tomorrow I was in Atlantic City to do some work before returning the following day to this very same building to speak with the chief here.   “Nothing man. Nothing,” With a quick hug, we both headed inside of his office on the eleventh floor of New York headquarters. “I know this the last place you want to be at. Reminding you of work and shit, but Vick at the house with her momma and friends I figured we’ll just meet up here. Hopefully Bas almost done with his work and we’ll be on the way.” “I’m good, I ain’t getting paid to be here. What’s going on with Vick though? She still deciding on the dress?” “Yes, she said there’s two choices now, honestly, I don’t care. She’ll have on the dress for about two or three hours before she changes to the next one anyway so I’m not even seeing the big deal here.” “Women man. We’ll never understand.” Ibrahim laughed at my words, but I knew deep down how true they were. Never will a man understand women to the smallest details. We’re all built differently, coming from two different worlds. They may be coordinated with one another, but to truly understand the mental mindset; never.  “You ready?” I asked, looking at him from across the other side of the office while he got his things together. “This is big and I know y'all been through thick and thin with one another, but………..I don’t know, man. This shit seems important to every aspect of your life."  "I love her. I’ve been loving her for a long damn time. I can’t see my life going on with just having her as some girlfriend, man. I wake up and it fucks me if she’s not there. I’ve done my share of dirt throughout this relationship as you know, but I can’t see me hurting her anymore. And I can’t see us going on without this title of our love."  "And love is enough? You know, to go forever?"  "I hope so. I mean, there’s loyalty and respect. That ride or die love that keep you going. Faith, trust. All that shit play apart, King."  "And you can’t see yourself without her?”

He grinned when I asked that last question, looking up at me.

“What are you hinting at?"  I don’t even know.  "I’m just thinking about what’s going on. I’m thinking about life man. Mines and everyone’s around me. I’m thinking about my own love life, I’m seeing all this success around me and yet there’s not kind of sense of happiness involved. So, there’s this question that keeps popping up that if you love someone is that enough to marry them and be happy. I’m stressing from figuring out the answer.” “And then you gotta deal with the fact that you’re about to see Chrissie too.” He pointed out, I was specifically trying to leave that out. But nonetheless, yes.  “She’s coming?"  "She RSVP’d a few nights ago. I remember because Vick came in the room, smiling and all teary-eyed and shit,” I nodded my head at his words. Thinking he was done now. “You said you saw Olivia the last time you were here though. How that go?” “It was cool. She was nice to me, there was no bad blood between us."  "That wasn’t Chris either though."  "Hell no. Chrissie would’ve killed me probably,” By now I could’ve sworn she’ll be forgotten. Or at least so far in my memory that I longer cared about her. Instead it was the opposite. She was controlling me without even being around and the closer we got to this wedding; the more I was on edge. “I fucked up with her. Even I knew I was doing something stupid but I played myself into believing that it was for the best that I spilt ways with her."  "You can have spilt ways all you want Kingston, but until there’s that closure between you two. You’ll always have that bad cloud sitting over you.”

Chrissie

“I like this more though. Look at the colors on this, Chrissie."  My eyes scanned the artificial room me and my sister stood in at the Brooklyn Ikea Store. The multi-colored three hundred dollar 3-Piece Hercules Alon Series was in fact beautiful especially with the set. From what Olivia’s saying, the room that she and Travis chose for his parents stay; there’s no furniture whatsoever. Yet it’s the only room beside their master bedroom which has a walk-in closet and private bathroom. In all, I understand her wanting to dress it up for their liking, but I also don’t want her to do too much. I highly doubt Ikea will allow them a full return after the holidays because this stuff is now unnecessary.  Travis did hand over his debt card to handle all direct charges. He’s made his parents happy thus far. Just as myself and Olivia, he’s the first graduate of his family, going on to become the first Doctor. And even with their five-year age difference he seems like a wholesome person for my sister.  So, I understood her want to be proactive with this decision.

"I love the colors,” I started off with. “Right! It’s perfect.” And she finished it for me, moving on to the front counter. I hope they had some in stock to help soothe her soul.  This has been the fifth store we’ve been to in the past four hours. As much as I love Liv, she will be the death of me. It was slowly counting down to Christmas Eve, and with as much work on my desk at home; I was here with her.  Nonetheless, I had my own reasons.  A few nights ago, I took myself out of misery and tore open the invitation Ibrahim had sent to me through Mike. What I found out was Michael was over six weeks late with giving me the invite. I didn’t know what kept this so long; maybe fearing my reaction, but he did so. This however, only gave us about four weeks to get ourselves ready for the event. And being I haven’t been around the crew in over six years, I needed this prep time.  Olivia also needed to know that she was invited. We both had plus one invites also and I’m sure she’ll ask Travis if he was up for attending the wedding along with her. It took her over ten minutes to come back from the counter after speaking with some of the sale associates. From the smile on her face I knew it had to be something good coming from this. As emotionally detached I seemed, this was important to her, so I was trying to be a good team player.  “What happened?"  "I’m buying the last they have in the store. Plus, it’s twenty percent off so I’m getting a pretty damn good deal for this couch.” “So all you have to do is pay?” “Yeah, but I came over to see if you were okay. I’m starting to think holidays aren’t your thing anymore.” Olivia stated, laughing lightly as if she was trying to lighten the mood.  “I’m good Livia." 

"So, we’re invited? Like invited?"  So, I spilled the beans. Accidentally on purpose. I needed to talk about this to someone sooner than later.  "Yeah. It’s the week of Kingston’s birthday."  "Which is?"  "The twenty-eighth of January is his birthday. The wedding is the twenty-fourth."  "How do you remember his birthday after almost nine years?” Her question was completed left of this topic, yet understanding. “Look, that’s beside the point,” I said, but like always she cut me off.  “When is my birthday?"  "Don’t do this Liv.” “No seriously. When?” “March fifth, Olivia. Nineteen-Ninety-One.” Pleased with my response she slumped down on the couch nearest to her in the living room of she and Travis’, well originally known as Travis’, Upper East Side townhouse.  “Are you down with it?” “I guess so. I’m invited. It’ll be rude to turn down the invite just because of some college bullshit.”

I already RSVP myself, but I decided to keep that to myself for now. “But it’s more than that Chrissie,” Sighing, Olivia looked at me and I could read the intrusive question coming from a mile away. “What happened?” “Kingston has a lot of dark secrets. Shit that I couldn’t dare myself to tell someone without his permission.” And that’s the truth. I rather have that dreadful conversation with him first. 

“You need his permission to speak on how much his presence still bothers you? He sounds controlling.”

“Olivia….” I respond, tired of this already.

“And do you think he still thinks about you as much as you think about him?” “Ouch.” I said, my sensitive emotions took that as some deep shade throwing.  “I’m just asking because if not, maybe you can relax.” "I don’t know Livia. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. The man keeps his distance with me."  "Call him.” She said, picking up her phone before sliding it over to me. Her words came out so easy and claiming. As if it was just that easy. As if it was some bright idea that pop up in her mind. ‘I never talk on the phone, Babygirl. I hate that shit. It’s never as personal as you think.'  God, I remember those words every time the idea has come to mind.  “He won’t answer.” “Try.”

#j. cole ff

[cynthiadshaw]

What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey?

Every twist in our story, challenge we face, and obstacle we overcome is an important part of our story.  These difficulties make us stronger and wiser and prepare us for what’s ahead.  As we grow and succeed we may imagine that soon the challenges will fade away, but in our conversations with business owners, artists, creatives, academics, and others we have learned that the most common experience is that challenges never go away – instead they get more complex as we grow and succeed.  Our ability to to thrive therefore depends heavily on our ability to learn from our experiences and so we are asking some of the city’s best and brightest: What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?

Dustin McCaslin and Garry McCaslin  | Hammbone willys owner

The one big thing we’ve learned in business this year is listening to our customers and staff. It guides us in the right direction.

@hammbonewillys @Hammbonewillys Hammbonewillys.com

  Heather Harrison | Health and Wellness Coach

My journey has been forever changing and if I have learned anything along the way and the most important thing along the way it has been to cut out the negativity in your life and change your mindset on how you should be living. When you learn to replace the negative and dream really freakin big your mindset changes and takes you to places who never thought ty oh would go!

@_heatherharrison_ @MusclesMomma

Dylan M. Rafaty | Author | Entrepreneur | Public Speaker | Executive Board Member | Disability Inclusion Advocate | Connector | Navigator | Influencer

One of the many lessons learned was the ability to build or gain respect and trust within the Community I proudly serve. Another is the ability to prioritize the important things in your life and execute it well. Lastly, cherish every accomplishment and moment along your journey and share it with others.

@DylanRafaty @dylan_rafaty linkedin.com/in/dylanrafaty

Row House Stonebridge | Rowing Studio

The most important lesson I have learned in this journey is fitness isn’t just for “losing weight”. It’s for creating a healthier lifestyle to live longer and stay on top of your health. It’s for people that struggle with mental health, depression, anxiety, etc. it’s for the people who want to train for personal goals. The list goes on and on. Fitness means something different to every person you meet. It is not a one size fits all which is why we love our quote so much. This workout especially is for the every day person!

rowhouseoffers.com/stonebridge/lp/ps-30-off/?gclid=Cj0KCQiAz53vBRCpARIsAPPsz8V5OeQgqLXNT2aPxvHmqI9D-n0_kbU4IJgAr_3ye5bo3qeunGltTm4aAiBOEALw_wcB @therowhousestonebridge RowHouseStonebridge

Anisha’s Salon | full service hair and skin salon

The most important what I have learned so far is always be thankful, show your gratitude towards others. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

Never stop learning and educating yourself because education never ends.

anishashairandskinsalon.com

Discovery at The Realm | Resort-Style Living in a Suburban Setting

Discovery at The Realm has been providing luxury, resort-style living in the quickly growing Grandscape/Castle Hills area since 2016. We offer high-end amenities like our fully staffed onsite clubhouse, a dog park, a yoga room and stunning lake views. But the most important lesson we have learned in our journey thus far is the importance of connection and community for our residents. Scientific evidence over the years has shown time and again that social connection is a core psychological need essential to feeling satisfied with life. We work hard at helping our residents feel connected to the community here, to other residents and to our team members. This isn’t just an apartment complex; it’s a community people look forward to coming home to, a place where they plan to meet in the club for Happy Hour and board games at the end of a long work day, or wind down on the walking trails or dog park. We have a calendar of events that makes it easy for people to connect, in addition to great physical settings that make it easy and fun to get together. Please come visit us for a tour and see what a real community feels like. We are along State Highway 121 and Windhaven Parkway, across the street from Lava Cantina and Top Golf, and just minutes from Legacy West and DFW Airport. Our apartments have gorgeous granite countertops, durable faux wood floors, double vanities in the bathrooms and over-sized closets!

discoveryattherealm.com @discoveryattherealm

Regency Johnson Hair Artists | Colorist, Handtied Extension Special & Licensed to Create

No one can dim the anointed light that shines from within.

@regencyjohnson_hairartist @regencyjohnson_hairartist

 Raven Akinleyimu | Design and Craft Connoisseur

Be Consistent, have faith, and believe in yourself. When I first started designing and crafting no one really believed I could, but I had such a joy for it so I never gave up and stayed consistent.

@MadeByRaeA

Ryan Bertolino | President and Creative Director

@martyperlman

I would have to say that being kind to others is one of the most important lessons I’ve learn along my journey to becoming a business owner. I have seen kindness go a long way in my career! It is a trait that is very memorable to a client and will turn any client into repeat business! Kindness will create a buzz around your brand and company that will spread like wildflowers in your community and industry! So be kind to others as it will pay off in the long run!

@eventmechanicsco @ryanbertolino

Dallas Family Owned Roofer – Envision Roofing Frisco Locally Owned Roofer – Envision Roofing Protecting you With Our Experience

My most important lesson learned so far is just how great our customers are! By showing them respect, patience, flexibility and delivering quality on everything we do we gain customers for life and there is no request too big, or too small that we would not take care of for them. It teaches us to keep aiming higher on our customer experience everyday.

@envisionroofingdallas

Kristen Gonzalez | Thriver & Mompreneur

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned so far on my journey is, you have to take chances. I’m not saying quitting a job or spending a ton of money, but each chance you take is one step forward to an overall goal. Some may seem like larger risks, but I have found that all risks I have taken, have either been a lesson I learned or a push forward in my success. In my last career, I felt my passion shifting. I worked my tail off until I could financialyl replace that career and step away. That was a huge chance I took on what may not be guaranteed. (but really is?) Thank God I did. I found pure joy! I took chances on sharing about a product I loved; I got made fun of, mocked, blocked on social media, avoided, the list goes on. However, I also helped thousands of people along the way! The messages thanking me for taking a chance on them out weighed the struggles I went through!

@kristenmsather @txthriver

Mobile Cuisine and Catering

Believe in your concept and your food and don’t let anything get in the way of your ambitions. Follow your dreams with a passion!

@Ragin-Casian ragincasian.com @theragincasian

  Josh Schoemaker | Carbon & Cotton

The most important lesson I have learned in my journey so far is to stay focused on creating art that I love, not what I think will sell. This mindset feeds my passion of exploration and discovery as well as keeps my art looking fresh.

CarbonandCotton.com @joshschoemaker

Joey Werkmeister | UX (User Experience) Manager | Travel & Entertainment Photographer

The lesson life continues to remind me is to experience every moment life gives you. Stop, observe, value, enjoy. Travel photography has been in my blood for generations. Growing up, I remember my family sitting down in my grandparents living room at every family reunion and everyone passing around stacks of printed photos (I suppose this was the Instagram of the ‘90s) and catching up. I keep a few of my grandfathers polaroids on my refrigerator because they remind me of those special times. In my adult life I’ve been able to travel all over the world for both work and pleasure, and I’ve always kept my extended family in the loop by photographing and posting the pictures for them to see on Facebook, and now on Instagram where I’ve loved sharing those experience with friends, family and followers to world over. My father was diagnosed with ALS about 2 years ago, and since then taking photographs has taken on an new kind of meaning. He is no longer able to travel, but I’ve enjoyed documenting my adventures and bringing the photos back home so we can gather in the’ living room (just like old times) and scan through the pictures, telling stories and taking my dad along on the adventure.

@r_j_werkmeister werk.space [email protected]

Tiffany Smith | North Dallas Realtor®

@stellaimages

After more than a decade in real estate, I’ve developed a unique approach that is focused on one thing – genuine hospitality. This principle has served as my singular emphasis in both my personal and professional life. With a degree in hospitality management, servant leadership is in my blood, and I’ve realized over the years that while my industry expertise is incredibly valuable, what people appreciate and remember the most is how they were treated. It is my joy to serve my clients, and I hope that each and every one of them feels like part of the family.

@realtortiffanysmith

Stephen Lohoefer | Pastor, The Grove Church

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey thus far has also been the most difficult to learn. That lesson is patience— patience that storms will pass; patience that good things will come. Over and over again, God has shown me that most of the time, the thing I want the most will come in time. I just have to learn to trust the process.

Grove.org @grovechurchdallas @stephenlohoefer @GroveChurchDallas

Dennis Johnson | Insurance specialist and Forex investor

Never avoid being uncomfortable. To deny uncomfortably is to deny growth.

@Gabe.Jade

Emily Le | Makeup Artist & Beauty Influencer

@arialised

The most important lesson I’ve learned is self-love. Building yourself up, and embracing all that you are and accepting it. You learn new things about yourself as you reach deeper into your mind. Sometimes negative things are rooted deeply in us and we do not realize it, such as insecurities about our selves. Self-love has many benefits, & happiness is one of them.

etreecosmo.com @etreecosmo

Diego Merel | Traveler and Sales Rep

I’ve learned to find happiness within myself rather than finding happiness in other people. I started making healthier choices regarding my personal health and everything around me started to snowball from there.

@lobo_chicco

Angie McComb | aka #Solargirltx with her SolarBulldog, Lola Lu

I have learned that staying authentic matters, that being your true self in any situation pays out tenfold and I’ve learned that everyone has a story. I have clients in multi-million dollar homes and I have clients with disconnect notices worrying about how to pay the electricity bill, but the relationships and the human element are the same. I have chosen a career path that’s designed to help people and that’s my reward at the end of every day.

@SolarGirlTX @SolarGirlTX

  Garrick Thomas | Singer | Actor | Model

The most important lesson I have learned on this journey is to never lose yourself and keep fighting because your time is near. We want to give up when things aren’t going our way and that’s when you have to push yourself harder to strive for your ultimate goal.

@gstylez817 @gstylez817 @gstylez817 Soundcloud: @gstyelz817 Snapchat: @gmangsent

Tricia Ann Garcia | Interior Stylist & Home Stager

If you give 100 percent of your attention, energy, and time to a thing, you will get exactly that back.

@triciagarciainteriors

King.Kidd | Artist & Entrepreneur

Loco Conroe

Slow and steady wins the race! Making sure to trust the process, never rush it.

@QueenLashes45

Von Harris | Photographer & Cinematographer

The most important lesson I’ve learned on my journey was realizing that sometimes failure can be necessary and the best thing that can happen. Getting knocked down is sometimes necessary to make you get up and be the Stronger, Smarter & Better person you’re supposed to be! Always keep working on my craft and myself because if I can consistently make myself better then everything else I do will evolve as well!

VonHarrisProductions.com @VonHarrisProductions

Damian Roberts | Management of 2 Lit- Live Hungry Die Fat Clothing | Entrepreneur, and Physical Therapy

Keeping God first, Pay yourself first, Invest in other people, mindset is everything, dream big, having amazing mentors in your life, being willing to unlearn and reinvent yourself in moving forward towards your journey of success. When you are intentionally focused on your goals, you will be amazed on what you can accomplish. Every success book, entrepreneur, and major business owner out there will tell you the one principle that got them to their level of success. The principle is they chose themselves. You are in control of your life so take action in moving forward in your journey of success. I am honored to have an excellent team of entrepreneur brothers who are all liked minded individuals with work ethics that are unmatched. We are a team so this article is just as important for them. Never give up, follow your dreams, and do what the other 99% won’t.

livehungrydiefat.com @livehungrydiefat @reez2lit @drob2lit @diddy2lit @theboy2lit @tana2lit @mattmayne2lit @gotti2lit @chaptheconnect

Flavio Venancio | tattoo artist

The most important lesson I’ve learned is that, first of all, you have to do what you love otherwise it’s a waste of life. Second, no matter how good you are in your field, there is always something new to learn and improve. Learning is really a never-ending process and you have to keep that in mind to succeed. Tattooing is my passion, is what I love to do, but I don’t take it for granted. For me, I want and I need to evolve every day and I do it with pleasure. I’ve been tattooing for over 15 years and I’ve worked in different countries like Indonesia, Japan, Australia, Brazil. I love being around different cultures, different art and learning new techniques. The more I learn, more I realize how much is there to learn. The better you are in your art, the more people expect from you, it’s a challenge and I love it.

@flavio_tattoo

Joy Smallwood | Resin Artist

Jadon Smallwood

I am a perfectionist and my own worst critic. I��ve had to learn that art isn’t about perfection, it’s about creating something to share with others. I have been shocked by the enthusiasm around some of my pieces which I was not particularly fond of myself. I’ve learned that everybody has different tastes, you just need to find the right audience to share it with. Lastly, I’ve learned not to focus on making sales, instead I focus on building relationships with people!

@joysmallwood_art @joysmallwood_art spreesy.com/Joysmallwoodart

Ian “KWAME” Asibey | Musician | Drummer

Michael Barrera

The most important lesson I’ve learned in my journey so far is patience and preparation . I’ve been playing drums for over 13 years now and joining Artemis funk (a 7 piece band from Arlington, TX) was has been a great learning experience. I’ve become a better listener and someone who is a lot more organized in terms of planning. Scheduling rehearsals and gigs with 6 other people be complicated; working with personal and work schedules, etc. I realized like everything that’s with having its patience and understanding that helps things move forward. When I first saw the band together they already had a drummer, but I knew these were the people I wanted to work with. The opportunity came for me to fill in for the drummer, and I was prepared for it; practicing and going to jam sessions as much as I could. Long story short a month later I was asked to be the permanent drummer. Playing with them ever since has been fantastic, but patience and preparation is a must. With 7 different opinions on almost everything we discuss, we have to be able to listen to one another and have enough patience and empathy to understand where the person is coming from. No matter what it is if we’re patience and prepared to tackle the situation, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish.

@ian.asibey  @kingkwame95 @artemisfunk @iangoinskiin

Autumn Taylor | Product Developer and Owner of BERE Lingerie

During journey thus far , my most important lesson is to take everything day by day. I always had the tendency to rush into things I wanted most and ended up failing due to my impatience , but now as I go day by day I can now say I am where I need to be at the right time and will get to where I need exactly when I am supposed to. I no longer rush things that are set to come later or stress things out of my control.

@Aavum  @berecolingerie

Tasha Olorunnisomo | Love coach and Motivational Speaker

The most important lesson I have learned so far in my journey is never let fear stop you from accomplishing your goals in life. Life will have many challenges but you will overcome all of them if you do not quit. Do not allow anyone to stop you from accomplishing your lifelong dream, you are worth it.

@livelovelifecoachtasha

The post What’s the Most Important Lesson You’ve Learned Along Your Journey? appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2019/12/13/whats-important-lesson-youve-learned-along-journey-2/