#OTP: I always understood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wol-fica · 1 year

Text

-𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤 ℙ𝕋𝟟-

pairings - wednesGAYaddams x fem!reader

summary - you and enid go out for lunch, some problems ensue, and wednesday has to step in

warnings - spooky scary guy but fluff at the end, physical assault, can be almost considered as SA

an - wrote this impulsively at like 2 am last night while on the phone with four people, was radical

———————

“And that’s how Ajax proposed to me!”

You smiled, listening to Enid rant about her newfound engagement to her four year boyfriend, who she’s been pestering about proposing ever since they graduated, poor guy couldn’t catch a break.

But they have finally taken a step forward in their relationship and caused Enid’s excitement to skyrocket, hence why she whisked you out of the house for a girls lunch with just you and her. The restaurant she chose was cute, with fairy lights draped across the ceiling and vines trailing down from above, it was cozy.

“So anyways, enough about me.” Enid said, setting her drink down after she took a sip, “What’s been going on with my OTP?”

“Nothing much, we have been pretty relaxed lately.” You replied, taking the small piece of chicken off of your fork and into your mouth.

“Sounds nice, I know Wednesday can be a…well…handful.”

You stifled a laugh, shaking your head with a smile after setting your utensil down. Enid wasn’t wrong, Wednesday was most definitely a handful, but a good one. She had her ups and downs that were…irritating…but you loved her and you understood that everyone can have bad days.

“We all go through rough patches, it’s natural.” You said, smoothing out your shirt, “Wednesday’s just happen to be more bloody and murderous.”

Enid suddenly coughed, raising an eyebrow and flicking her eyes behind you. You followed her gesture and turned your head to the right, meeting the gaze of a man around your age.

He was staring you down, his husky blue eyes piercing through yours as he smirked. His hand raised, fingers waggling in a teasing wave towards you. You gave a tight lipped smile in return, slowly turning back to Enid.

“Weirdo.” You mumbled, balling up your napkin to place on your empty plate, “I’m gonna go pay, okay?”

Enid nodded, beginning to clean up the table from your lunch as you got up and walked to the front. The feeling of someone watching you washed over your body, making you feel exceedingly uncomfortable and vulnerable as you made your way to the register.

“Lunch?” The cashier asked, giving you a comforting smile.

“Yep, for two.” You replied, watching as the price rang up.

As you went to retrieve your card from your wallet, a hand suddenly shot out of nowhere to grab your wrist and stop you. Your head snapped to your left, looking upwards to see the guy from before handing his own card to the worker.

“I got it.” He said, his voice chillingly low.

He turned to you, winking playfully and biting his lip at you. You smiled and laughed awkwardly, carefully pulling your wrist out of his grip. Your wedding ring was clear as day on your finger, but he either didn’t see it or was ignoring it.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, putting your wallet back in your purse.

“It’s fine, I always pay for pretty girls.” He quipped, his eyes slowly trailing from your face to down your body.

He was checking you out.

“Okayyyyyy, well I’m gonna get going, stuff to do.” You spoke, turning to go back to Enid.

“Wait hold on,” His hand took your wrist again, swinging your body back around to him, “I never caught your name.”

“Never threw it to you.” You challenged, now feeling extremely uncomfortable and disgruntled from this guy's advances.

“C'mon don’t be like that,” He said, pulling his phone out and handing it to you, “Put your number in?”

It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you were absolutely not going to do that. Forcefully yanking your hand from his, you backed up slightly, eyes glancing in search of the unseen Enid. Where she could have gone, you didn’t know, but it was definitely stressing you out.

“I’ll pass, have a nice day!” You grimaced before hurrying away to retrieve Enid and leave.

You exited the restaurant, looking around to see if she had left and was waiting for you outside, but the blue and pink streaked blonde was nowhere in sight. Who was visible was the man, making his way to the glass door of the building and to you.

“Dammit Enid.” You whispered before hurrying down the sidewalk at a fast pace.

Not many people were out, just a few couples hand-locked and some businessmen with their heads in their phones, none paying attention to you and the man closing distance on you.

Your hands fumbled to open your bag, pulling your phone out to call someone, anyone. You had a few messages from your dad, and a missed call from Enid, but your fingers immediately went for Wednesday’s contact.

You pressed the call button, putting the phone to your ear as it rang. Twice it went straight to voicemail, the third it rang for a few seconds before her automated message rang out.

“This is Wednesday Friday Addams, if you are not my mother, father, brother, best friend, wife, or pet, please hang up or be prepared for decapitation….”

“Nes please..” You begged quietly, pressing the call button yet again, “Pick up!”

As the phone rang, you had the unsettling feeling of somebody becoming very close to you, and before you knew it, your back was pressed against a brick wall. His breath hit your nose when he leaned his face towards yours, the stench of beer coating your senses.

“You know, it was really disrespectful of you to just walk away.” He said lowly, “I asked for your number.”

You gulped, tears in your eyes as his grip on you tightened. His hands were sweaty and rough, itching on your skin while he closed himself in on your personal space. A small voice inside of you was screaming at you, scratching the back of your throat as it tried to tell you to fight back.

“It’s not that hard, just tell me what it is.” He sang softly into your ear, his hand traveling down from your shoulder towards your hip.

A sudden phone ring startled you both into a frozen position, your heads turning to look at your phone. Wednesday’s face was on the screen, the name ‘Nessy Boo🖤🗝️🐈‍⬛’ bold up above. The photo you used for her contact was you and her on your wedding day, her in her stunning black suit dress , and you in a gorgeously slim-fitted white dress.

“Who is that bitch.”

Bitch?

Bitch?!

Your emotions flared, your hand shooting forward to shove him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, his body in shock from the force you produced, and he ran into a light pole. The insult he used made you mad, incredibly furious as your eyes glowed a glorious green.

“Bitch?” You asked softly, vines beginning to grow out of the ground as you twitched your fingers, “Is that what you said?”

He looked at you in apprehension, his eyes tearing away to glance at the sky’s darkening state. Clouds rolled overhead, the subtle crack of thunder and flash of lightning causing him to gulp fearfully.

“I suggest you leave,” You said, the wind starting to pick up, “Before you get hurt.”

He nodded, now completely sober and running tuck-tailed away from you. You watched him go, your breathing fast and heavy as your abilities slowly calmed down. Your shoulders slumped, your eyes closing weakly from the small use of your powers; the ones you rarely ever show.

Your phone rang again, startling you out of your zone-out. You picked it up from the ground, seeing that Wednesday was calling you for the fourth time. Immediately you answered, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hey baby.” You murmured, turning to gaze at the still dark sky.

“I saw your calls, and the sudden weather change.” Wednesday’s voice sounded through the phone, soft and dull as she spoke to you, “What happened mi vida?”

You sniffled, now aware of the tears pooling in your eyes as you cried.

“Some guy, he got too close, I got rid of him.” You replied, dusting your pants off before walking back in the direction of the restaurant.

“Some guy?! Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”

Her concern was adorable to you, but she was at least 25 to 30 minutes away from you, meaning it would be pointless for her to come get you.

“No need, I’m gonna find Enid and get an uber.”

She hummed in disapproval, not believing your fib for one second.

“I’ll be there in 15.” Then she hung up.

You sighed, knowing she would show up with a murderous aspect in mind, but you were too utterly exhausted to pick a fight with her. The walk back to the restaurant was longer than you expected, almost 10 minutes by the time you made it back.

“Y/N, Oh my god!”

You turned to see Enid running towards you in a panic, her hands reaching for your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

“Are you okay?! You disappeared! Did you get hurt?” She was rambling, throwing her hands in the air.

“I’m okay, I swear.” You responded, giving a small smile to her, “Just some guy trouble.”

Enid glared at you, a look of disappointment crossing her face. She pulled you into a hug again, her arms holding you way too tight as she scolded you.

“Never walk away by yourself ever again, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” You smiled, turning when you heard a car door slam loudly.

There stood Wednesday, fuming with fury and rage as she looked for you. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily as steam basically poured out of her ears; she was angry. As she scanned the sidewalk, her eyes locked with yours, her features relaxing in relief before she began to speed walk towards you.

“Y/N.” She stated before pulling you into her arms, “Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Did he give you any injuries?”

You leaned back slightly to grab her face and push your lips into hers, putting a blockade in her rambling. She kissed you back immediately, wrapping her arms around your back and waist as an attempt to make you feel safe and secured in her hold.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You whispered to her, caressing her cheeks with your thumbs as you tried to relax her, “I’m right here, Nes.”

She sighed, staring at you with her endless black orbs. Her arms squeezed you, holding you close to her while you repeated that you were indeed okay.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight.” She murmured, locking her lips with yours.

You hummed, smiling into the kiss. The clouds above began to clear, and the plants previously growing from the cracks in the pavement started to shrivel and turn to dust.

“I’ll take you both home.” Wednesday stated, pulling you in by your waist before walking to her car, “You need rest.”

You nodded, gesturing for Enid to follow the two of you. Wednesday held the door open for her, speaking her thanks after she got in, then turned for you to follow. You paused before doing so, leaning in to press your lips to her skin.

“Thank you for coming, I love you.” You said, rocking back and forth on your heel.

She smiled, a rare but glorious sight, and bumped her nose against yours in an affectionate way.

“You’re welcome, and I love you more.”

————————

skskskskskkskskssksk

taglist:

@crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @rainbow-love4ever @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @dreaming-of-unconditional-love @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @captainbeat @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg

423 notes · View notes

cameliawrites · 1 month

Text

Kanej Fic Recs: The "Figuring Out Intimacy" Trope

If you're anything like me, you're a glutton for very specific fic tropes applied to your very favorite OTPs (and we all know my OTP of OTPs is kanej). To this end, ao3 tags are your best friend. When you see that delicious combination of tags like "emotional hurt/comfort" and "healing" and "pining" with some sort of moody, vaguely poetic title, that's the good shit right there. That is a MEAL, and you are about to feast.

Anyways. I'm getting off track.

I come to you today with more than just an offering to the potluck; I am here to open up the doors to the whole damn buffet. That's right - FIC RECS. Specifically, fic recs that scratch the particular itch for "post-canon fics where Kaz and Inej figure out how to touch each other, but really the Physical Armor is always symbolic of the Emotional Armor that they have to learn to lower if they hope to ever really Be Together." Do you know what I'm talking about? If you know, you know. It's kanej figuring out intimacy. It's touch, but it's about the way they touch each other's souls. It's a fandom-classic fic trope. FEAST AWAY. (And feel free to reblog and add any of your own favorites! This is certainly not an exhaustive list, just some favorites of mine that fit the bill.)

They're all complete, they're all canon compliant (I had to set some limitations because my list was getting out of hand lol), and they're listed in order of rating (T, M, etc.), but otherwise they're in no particular order, and the summaries and/or most of the excerpts are those provided by the authors on ao3!

Can We Stop? by thegoldenkneazle (Rated G, 220 words, drabble)

Excerpt:

Kaz immediately drew back, rolling over onto his side of the creaky bed to create space between them. “Are you okay?” he asked, dark eyebrows drawing together.

Every Time We Touch by Pokemon67 (Rated G, 1k words, oneshot)

Summary: "Inej hadn't been exaggerating. It wasn’t easy for her either."

Excerpt:

She couldn’t quite recall how they’d ended up here, in Kaz’s room, on his bed. She was perched on his legs, right in front of him, and if she raised her head she could look into his eyes count the little flecks of gold the light always teased to her were there.

Uncharted Waters by insignificant457 (Rated T, 5k words, oneshot)

Summary: "One step on the long and winding road to intimacy."

Excerpt:

Perhaps Inej should be insulted that she’s been penciled into Kaz’s schedule, fit snugly in between a Crow Club shareholders’ meeting and a parley with the Liddies, but when it comes to taking steps forward in their relationship, romantic spontaneity is not exactly something they can afford.

Council of the Tides by blacktag189 (Rated T, 15k words, multichap)

Excerpt:

With each tiny step forward they made, the urgency to be pulled out to sea still built. She couldn't ignore the brutal truth in that - that no matter how much he gave her here...one day everything would align just right and she would leave. But today wasn't that day.

Discover the Rest by Silver_89 (Rated T, 4k words, oneshot) (note: restricted to ao3 account holders)

Summary: "Post Crooked Kingdom fic where Kaz and Inej have made some progress with touch but touch is not the only progress Inej wants to see from him. She wants to know him too."

Excerpt:

Inej didn’t share much about her time at the Menagerie...And yet she had shared that she struggled with touch too. He understood why. But she didn’t know why he was the same. I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all. It was time he tried taking it off.

All Flowers in Time (Bend Towards the Sun) by laurie_ipsum (Rated M, 10k words, multichap)

Summary: "Does this fandom need yet another Kaz and Inej figure out intimacy fic? Probably not, but I did it anyway."

Excerpt:

Kaz wants all his firsts. It’s written in his eyes, on his face, in every line of his body. She can tell it terrifies him. It terrifies her, too.

One Thousand and One Nights by Trogdor19 (Rated M, 11k words, multichap)

Summary: "One new touch, every night…"

Excerpt:

He dips his head, his cheekbone brushing against hers so quietly it’s like the way she moves. So silkily between shadows no one’s ever quite sure it happened. 'Wait for me,' he breathes. The letters barely given enough air to shape them.

The Trouble With Wanting by A_nonnie_mouse (Rated M, 6k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Summary: "Inej begins to reckon with her own armor so she can have what, and who, she wants."

Excerpt:

“Kaz.” She was frustrated at his self-deprecation. “Please understand. My mind wants you. My heart longs for you. My body…” She struggled for words, the shame rising again, threatening her eyes with tears. “My body isn’t entirely convinced something horrible isn’t going to happen again. This wasn’t because of you. You understand that, don’t you?”

show me where my armor ends (show me where my skin begins) by kingsandqueensofthebarrel (Rated M, 25k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

“You’re something I want, Wraith,” he says, his tone all business like. “And I don’t stop until I have what I want.” “That could have sounded romantic.” “It’s a fact.” She hums and squeezes his hand.

collision course by cameliawrites (Rated M, 10k words, oneshot) (shameless self-promotion)

Excerpt:

Inej adjusts to Kaz the way that winter adjusts to spring: she thaws, and thaws, and thaws—and then she utterly melts.

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars by sarathedreamer (Rated M, 54k words, multichap, part of a series)

Summary: "Kaz and Inej learning to be with one another after Crooked Kingdom (events in Rule of Wolves might be mentioned in later chapters but you'll be warned!) Basically a slow burn filled with angst and fluff, and little plot :)"

Excerpt:

She blushed and felt a smile tug at her lips, so she looked down at his hand, held up in front of her like an invitation. His fingers were barely shaking. Inej looked back up at his eyes, asking a silent question once more, and Kaz nodded after a short hesitation. She gently cupped his hand in hers, fascinated by the softness of it, by the way two of hers were not quite enough to hold one of his. No one but she could know how graceful Dirtyhands’ weapons were under his gloves, and that was another one of his secrets she would gladly keep close to her chest.

Things We Can Never Do by rainstormdragon (Rated E, 3k words, oneshot, part of a series)

Excerpt:

They had done this before more than once. First words, then their hands on their own bodies. Gasped encouragement and shared fantasies. “Tell me what you’d want to do,” he urged her, not moving even a hair’s breadth toward her, giving her the safety of the space between them. “Tell me what you’d want me to do.”

Closer by lilieswho (Rated E, 7k words, oneshot)

Excerpt:

There is a deep desire crawling under Inej’s skin. It’s a feeling she’s begun to grow used to by now — the feeling of wanting someone, wishing for their touch and hoping they wish for hers back. Not someone’s, no. Kaz’s.

If you've made it all the way to the end of this rec list (hi!! thanks!), you should absolutely reply to or reblog this post with your favorite "kanej figure out intimacy" fic, whether it's on this list or something else! :) Support your local organic pasture-raised fic authors, etc. etc.

#fic recs #kanej

58 notes · View notes

writing-for-life · 25 days

Note

Hey there! I hope you’re having a good day. I just saw a post you made about Dream’s type romantically. Thoughts on Calliope and Dream’s relationship specifically? It always stands out to me how though Dream has had a number of lovers throughout the millennia, Calliope is the only one he married. (And of course, Melissanthi Mahut and Tom Sturridge’s blistering chemistry in the show is an additional component for me xD but feel free to respond only based on the comics if you wish!)

Hey, always happy to see your asks in my inbox!

So, first of all; I don’t care what everyone else thinks:

Dream and Calliope are the OTP even though I’m not a shipper. There, I said it, hit me over the head with a hammer, I live well in that tiny little corner of fandom 🤣

Conceptually, they are very, very alike. There is definitely something in there about dreams marrying epic poetry (and eloquence!) that’s just so on the nose.

But I also can’t help thinking: Slight power imbalance maybe, and we also get this more directly via the “all gods get born and die in the Dreaming.” I think often about how this would have played out for them once Calliope’s last worshippers have died—it’s certainly a tough one, even if their relationship hadn’t soured.

But even so: She is the Muse of Epic Poetry, he is the Prince of Stories, so there is A LOT of overlap between what they stand for. And hence, a lot of mutual understanding. They always struck me as *getting* each other (probably why they fell in love in the first place)—until they didn’t. The fact they didn’t live together was good for them I think, because thoughts need to be allowed freedom to form and develop. Plus, there’s also a lot to be said for Calliope keeping her independence that way. Not just in terms of personhood, but again if you think of how she was essentially created in, and will return to, the Dreaming. It’s probably wise for her (in conceptual terms) not to hang out there ALL the time?

She seems a lot more grounded in the mortal world than Dream is though. I always thought that was down to the fact that humans know her, as in actively worship her/ask her for inspiration, which must make her much closer in a way? Because bar a few, no one really *knows* Dream exists, although everyone does, if that makes any sense? Mortals know him on a subconscious level (that’s why he’s forever nebulous and *lonely*), but people know Calliope as a deity and seek connection explicitly. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, but to me, that was always a reason why, although a goddess, she seemed far less removed from the mortal plight than Dream was (at least when they were still an item—we all know he changed, even if he didn’t admit it [well, he did in the end to Nuala, which is a whole ‘nother topic]).

And when I think about why they didn’t work out, I can only think: “Orpheus”.

I mean yes, she said that they were already starting to drift apart slightly before she was with child, but there was still a lot of love between them even so. I think the death knell was to have a child on these wonky foundations. Why they did, we’ll never know.

Conceptually, there’s again something very deep and painful about dreams and poetry becoming something real. And then, that mortal child becoming immortal (until his father finally intervenes). But Orpheus was still all mortal and human to his core, even when he became immortal for a while, and that was *always* at the base of their rift. But I digress…

Back to why was Orpheus the death of their marriage? Dream’s advice to Orpheus was sound, yet it was unfeeling and lacked empathy. Calliope’s was maybe (?) not as reasonable, but she understood her child because a mother’s love is (usually) unconditional. We all know Dream’s wasn’t for a long time although it should have been.

I think if they’d all sat together as a family, supported their son in his grief in a balanced way, this whole catastrophe could have been avoided (I mean no, not really—it’s a tragedy, “doomed by the narrative” and all that). But all of Dream’s relationships (be that to his son or his lovers) fail because he is unreality (hence he has a hard time when things quite literally get real), and despite *knowing* mortals on a very deep level, I don’t believe he truly *understood* them at this point. But I think Calliope did—maybe due to who she was, maybe just because she actually *allowed* them in? Because Dream never truly did that. And when he finally did and truly understood what unconditional love actually means, he came apart at the seams and unravelled.

There’s also something really interesting conceptually in thinking of the Prince of Stories who doesn’t believe he has his own, and the Muse of Epic Poetry who inspires. Who is trying to control whom in this scenario? It’s mirrored in how they behave when the whole Orpheus tragedy takes off:

Calliope tries to inspire and, dare I say try to control the narrative a bit, and I don’t mean this in a bad way, quite the opposite: She looks for the most favourable outcome for everyone involved, even if it means bending the rules: She tries to convince Dream to put in a good word with Hades and believes he would listen because Gods respect him and, dare I say it, are even a bit scared of him.

Dream is rigid. Which is so mind-bending for someone who is the personification of hopes, wishes and possibility. But he is an immovable object: If he’s right, he’s right. That’s the rules, that’s it. And he won’t bend them, not even for his son. I’m not saying that it’s not understandable from his point of view, because he might know things we don’t (potentially also that although he *could* bend the rules because he has the power to do so, it might have knock-on effects no one else can understand or see—it’s impossible to say), only that they are fundamentally different in their approach although they are *both* about inspiration. And inspiration is so closely related to bringing on change (ouch!).

Part of me wants to say that Calliope uses it to control the narrative while Dream doesn’t, that Calliope believes that we can change our destiny while Dream doesn’t, but that’s also too simple. Because Dream *can* be controlling, but in totally different ways and areas.

I feel like I’m rambling out a lot of unordered thoughts, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that Dream and Calliope were so close because they are so similar in so many ways bar one:

Their understanding how inspiration can be used to bring on change. I would somehow go as far as saying that Calliope understands what it means to have personhood, also for herself, and that’s why she understands it in others (I think this is made *very* clear when Richard Madoc holds her hostage). Dream doesn’t—least not at the point where it would have mattered with regards to their relationship, because I think the fishbowl has changed him in that regard. This is also why he wants to make things right with her I believe. But of course he would never openly admit it (he basically stops himself before blurting it out), simply because it would also mean he’d need to admit it to himself…

With regard to that meta:

I definitely think they were highly romantically attracted, purely down to who/what they are. I can’t say too much about their sexual attraction, but after Calliope’s speech at his wake, it would be somewhat unlikely to assume they weren’t 🙈🤣

Was it unconditional though? No.

Was it pragmatic (that sounds so bad and unfeeling, but it’s not a bad thing, because a certain level of pragmatism is what grounds love in reality and makes it last)? I think they tried. But ultimately, he can never live that way because he is unreality, and I often wonder if they both knew 😭

@two-hands-toward-the-sun ask answered

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #sandman meta #calliope sandman #calliope #sandman analysis #sandman character analysis #ask answered #asks always open

40 notes · View notes

cinderella-ish · 1 month

Text

My evolving thoughts on who Yuki should've ended up with, and fanfic's role in changing my mind

So, I want to talk about Yuki Sohma.

Yuki is the member of the main trio in Fruits Basket with whom I most identify. I have little in common with both Tohru and Kyo, and it took me several watches and read-throughs to start to understand their characters/arcs. (I love them, don't get me wrong! I just didn't fully appreciate the depth of their characters/arcs until maybe my third time through the series.)

Yuki, on the other hand, not only had many external qualities in common with me, but the way he grew mirrored some of the ways I changed in early adulthood. His arc felt true to my life, and so he was my favorite character from my first exposure to Fruits Basket.

When I started reading fanfic, I initially limited myself to canon compliant or limited canon-divergence fics, but eventually, I dipped my toes into some alternate pairings. Interestingly, while I truly can't see Tohru with anyone but Kyo, and I can only see Kyo with someone other than Tohru in very specific circumstances, Yuki seems to work with almost everyone he gets paired with. I mean, Yuki and Machi are my OTP, yet I have probably read (and bookmarked) every Yuki/Kakeru fic on Ao3, and some of the most beautiful fanfic I've ever read is Yuki/Kyo.

This confused me at first. Deeply. If Yuchi is my OTP, why do I devour every Yukeru and Yukyo fic?

Well, I think that's because Yuki's arc is, among other things, one where he rejects compulsory romance. This is made explicit in the Cinderella-ish story (why yes this is my favorite part of Fruits Basket, why do you ask?), where he quite literally rejects the role of the prince - the role that's been put onto him by others through the series. I think his arc would have been complete without him ending up with Machi, but there are things about their relationship that make his ending so much more satisfying. In stories where he ends up with Kakeru or Kyo, Machi almost always appears as an important friend for him. I think, for him, having strong bonds outside the Sohmas that he forged on his own was the point, rather than ending up in a relationship.

Anyway, with that out of the way, here are my thoughts on the five most common Yuki pairings on Ao3!

Yuki/Machi

Yes. I love them. 1000/10.

Okay, so the one criticism I have of Yuki/Machi is that Yuki is strongly gay-coded throughout the series, and it would've been awesome to see that play out in the way it was set up. I think that's a huge part of why I connected with Yuki - his arc definitely reminded me of my own experience coming to terms with my own queerness. For more on this, see this exceptional post by @yunsoh

But there are so many moments between them that make me swoon. The chalk scene, first and foremost. I used that scene to talk to my partner about how to support me when my OCD or ADHD is bad. Then there's scene where Yuki figures out why Machi destroys things, then asks to make footprints in the snow together (and tells her he's proud of her! and sees how hard she's worked!). The way he bought her Mogeta memorabilia or figured out she likes red or understood her intent when she chased him around the school to give him a flower and just ended up getting angry at him. The way he understood she bought Tohru a bath set because it's what she would want, just because Kakeru made a similar remark. The way he lit up when he saw Machi's trashed apartment - "the sea of despair."

And the way Machi understood and empathized with Yuki. The way he lit up and started laughing when she called him an airhead. The way she said it took someone like him to notice someone like her. The way she opened up to him and always sought him out. The way Kakeru shipped them. The way he knew she would miss him if he were to disappear, and the way being a support to her was something he needed for himself. The way she accepted him as he actually was, and not the way he thought he was supposed to be. The way she broke the door down with a chair when Yuki was trapped in the storage room. The way he teased her!

They've both been put in seemingly desirable positions within their families, yet those positions are responsible for so much of their pain and trauma. They get each other at a deep level. There's a mutuality to their relationship that Yuki desperately needed. I love them so much!

PS: if you also love Yuki/Machi, come find me on Ao3! I'll be posting some Yuchi content later this week!

Yuki/Kakeru

They have a fantastic and fun dynamic, and they are always touching each other. Kakeru is Yuki's confidant and someone who makes Yuki feel safe in being himself, flaws and all. They help each other grow - Yuki helps Kakeru be more empathetic, and Kakeru helps Yuki become more comfortable with himself. I think this pairing would have also been a satisfying end for Yuki, full stop. I love them, and I will read all your Yukeru fics, please and thank you. (Also, lots of Yukeru writers are just really good writers, so there are some gorgeous works for them.)

Yuki/Kyo

So, I didn't get why this ship was so popular at first, but then I was reminded that Yuki's first thought when he met Kyo was "pretty!" They both secretly admired each other, they're written as foils for each other, and there's a reason enemies to lovers is so popular (and it's called sexual tension).

There's a Yuki/Kyo fic that I'd credit with showing me what fanfic can really do - especially in the ways it expanded the universe, found its own way of handling the curse, and developed the relationship between the two boys in a way that also grew their characters. That fic is The Pursuit of Repeating History by @mistergrass

I do think that Yuki ending up with someone outside the Sohmas is more satisfying for his character arc than someone from the Sohma clan, but his relationship with Kyo is such a key part of his arc that this could be satisfying in its own right.

Yuki/Haru

I absolutely love the relationship these two have in canon. I love how Haru looks out for Yuki, and I love how he drives Yuki a bit crazy. I love how Haru tells Yuki the things he needs to hear, like that it's okay for him to focus on himself for a while, and I love how Yuki braves the Sohma estate to check on Haru. I also love the way Haru can read Yuki like a book.

Haru's words to Yuki about finding someone who will appreciate his fragility and kindness are always so touching. Haru is almost a mentor to Yuki, in a way, or a fairy godmother. (Or a long lost sister?) The fact that he was the one who got Yuki out of isolation at the hands of Akito, or that he was the one person who would check on him just speaks to the strength of his loyalty to Yuki.

I take Haru's statement of "Yuki was my first love" seriously, because he tells Yuki he is serious when Yuki warns him people will take him seriously when he says that. I know there's an argument to be made that Haru is just being his weird self, but that gives me and they were roommates vibes.

Unfortunately, most of the Yuki/Haru fics are dubcon with Dark Haru, which is not something I enjoy reading. What I'd really love to read is an AU where they're together in high school or later, or something that explores Haru's early feelings for Yuki, or just something that explores interesting sides of their characters that are brought out when they're together.

I don't think this would be a terribly satisfying end for Yuki, but I do really love their dynamic.

Yuki/Tohru

Okay, so, full disclosure: I was #teamyuki when I first watched Fruits Basket. Yet now, they're the only pairing on this list that I don't like. Why? Well, as I said above, Yuki's arc is much about rejecting this specific compulsory romance.

Compulsory how? Well, from the beginning, the series seems like it's setting up a love triangle, but kind of tells us (more and more explicitly as the series goes on) that things are not what they seem.

I think the series does a phenomenal job of making the reader/viewer complicit in placing this compulsory romance onto Yuki. A brief aside, making the reader/viewer complicit in the thing a story is criticizing is one of the most effective ways to criticize something, IMO, because it doesn't let the reader/viewer off the hook. We don't get to say, "Look at them, they're so foolish!" We're forced to examine our own expectations and acknowledge that we were made a fool of, too.

I totally got tingles at the spa scene (pictured above), even though upon rewatch, it's obvious how much of an act it is on Yuki's part, and how uncomfortable it makes Tohru. In fact, many of their most "romantic" moments, where the shojo bubbles appear and everything, are when Tohru is acting in an explicitly motherly way to Yuki, and he awkwardly tries to flirt because he's either misinterpreting his feelings or in denial about them.

I also thought his line, "that isn't what I want!" when he tells Kakeru about his true feelings for Tohru is one of the most powerful moments in the series. It's the moment he's finally letting go of being the Princely character and choosing to be himself, for himself, because he deserves to be known and accepted - something he'd never fully believed until that moment.

I think part of why I was initially #teamyuki was because I came to Fruits Basket through the anime first, where much of the development of his relationship with Machi was cut. Also, as I said above, I didn't really get the characters of Kyo and Tohru right away, and I think that prevented me from seeing the power of their romance. The True Form arc was a key moment that I truly didn't understand until several viewings/readings later.

So, all of that is why I don't care for this pairing. I get why people do, but I do feel it undermines Yuki's agency and his character arc. It's a pairing that makes me sad when I see it, as if this character I love has taken a step backward.

(Incidentally, I've been wanting to write a fic where the True Form arc plays out differently and Yuki takes longer to realize the nature of his feelings for Tohru. I truly wonder how he would've come to that understanding without witnessing her running after Kyo. Would he have tried dating her? Would it have been a total disaster?)

Other pairings and larger relationship structures

Out of the other pairings I found, the only one I'm genuinely curious about is Yuki with Saki Hanajima. I'll have to go read those fics. They are each the "cold" half of a "hot/cold" duo (the "hot" halves being Kyo and Arisa, who are basically the same person). I'm very curious what led people to pair them in the handful of fics about them!

(Interestingly, I think it's possible to read Saki and Arisa both as having a bit of sexual tension with Kyo, but not with Yuki.)

The others include Akito, Ayame, Hatori, and Shigure - all pairings that would have a noncon/dubcon element due to Yuki's age, and that's before you get into the specific traumas that these characters have inflicted on Yuki, or the inherent power dynamics between them, or the close familial relationship with Ayame, etc...

The trio relationships are all intriguing and full of possibility. Yuki/Tohru/Kyo? Obviously. Yuki/Kakeru/Kimi? Potential for lots of wackiness. Yuki/Kyo/Haru? Could be the next Mabudachi trio.

(No shade to anyone who enjoys fics with the pairings or tropes I don't like! This blogger believes in "don't like, don't read.")

43 notes · View notes

shyvioletcat · 7 months

Text

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 18

~ Aelin and Hawk Rowan ~

Just something silly and sweet for our beloved otp

~~~~~

The world passed by in a blur, Kasida’s stride eating up distance over the grassy plain. Each hoof beat resounded through Aelin’s body, the fast paced rhythm creating a symphony that only added to the thrill of the ride. Aelin trusted her steed completely, knowing she had the care for both their safety and avoiding unsteady ground. And they were not alone.

Rowan swooped, his wing brushing her cheek. As much as she loved the gesture, it was distracting, and Aelin almost missed the turn onto the forest path. Bastard, he was trying to distract her. Kasida slowed just a little, her sure footing not faltering as the path was swarmed with vegetation. Aelin assumed Rowan flew above the trees to avoid entanglement in the branches. Their little race was almost over and she hoped she could rely on the thick, overlapping boughs to help her win.

An obligation free morning had presented itself and tired of courtly nonsense stealing her away from him, Rowan had insisted they flee the palace. And he always complained about her affinity for dramatics when at times he was equally so. He had told her to dress for riding and meet him at the stables while he would sort out the rest.

Aelin had taken the time to brush and saddle Kasida herself, basking in the simple and ordinary task. Sometimes it was nice to pretend that she didn’t have the weight of an entire kingdom on her shoulders. It had barely been a year since the war had ended, her country was still rebuilding and there was so much to do. Still, she needed to take time for herself or she might go insane. Aelin had Kasida fully tacked when Rowan appeared, a pack on his shoulder and a wide grin on his face. Then he’d told her to meet him by the stream and shifted.

To get out of the city Aelin had used a small gate built into the outer wall, only for secret royal usage. Rowan had circled above her while she warmed up her steed, the mare impatient to run. When she was ready, Aelin turned Kasida to follow the edge of the Oakwald. And then they were off, Rowan’s screech of approval echoing. He understood her intention, this would be a race.

He gave another such call now, letting Aelin know he was still wth her. She was almost at the stream. With the thick foliage overhead she might just win. It would be hard for him to find a way through without risk to himself. Her fae senses picked up the sound of the stream, the scent of the damp soil. A few more moments and she’d be there. The trees parted, the stream was in view, and then there was a bright flash of light that had the over excited horse shying in surprise. Rowan stood there, leaning against a tree like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“I win,” he had the gall to say.

Aelin was nearly panting as she dismounted. Flames simmered at her fingers, the thrill of the ride and the indignation over what her mate had said only adding to the fire.

“I was here first,” she protested.

Rowan just smirked at her. “I would say otherwise.”

“Of course you would.”

“Because I won,” Rowan reiterated.

Aelin groaned in frustration, quickly tending to Kasida so she could graze but not wonder off. Then she was storming over to her husband, embers flying in her wake.

“You cheated,” she accused. “You tried to distract me.”

Rowan dropped the pack to the grassy floor, standing a little straighter, no longer using the tree to take his ease. “I did no such thing.”

This time Aelin growled at him, baring her pointed canines. Rowan just continued to smirk at her. The insufferable, cheating bastard.

“Fireheart, it was only a little race.” All his words did was antagonise her further.

“It’s never just a little race.”

Rowan chuckled softly. “My apologies, milady. I must have forgotten how competitive you are.”

Aelin was right in front of him now, nearly chest to chest. “Memory problems tend to persist in old age.”

Before Aelin could even think of a new argument, Rowan had reached for her shoulders, and spun them so that her back was against the tree. His body crowded around hers, but Aelin was not ready to give in. She just kept looking up at him, defiance all over her face.

Her mate ignored every ounce of malice she was sending his way, and lent in closer. “Are you going to waste our alone time talking?”

There was a hand on her waist, and Aelin couldn’t help but arch into the touch. As it rose higher her breathing quickened at it had nothing to do with the exertion from the ride. Rowan moved closer, his nose brushing against Aelin’s in a teasing gesture. She was about to demand he do something more when he finally kissed her. She surrendered to it, loving the privilege of having Rowan so close. They saw each other every day, but finding time to truly be with each other was hard to find some days.

She couldn’t help herself though, that fire of mischief still burned. Aelin broke the kiss, taking joy in the annoyance that entered Rowan’s green eyes. “And another thing—“

It seemed Rowan had had enough of her antics because he tugged her against him for another kiss, smothering her laughter. They stayed like that until they were both breathless and the only reason they broke apart was to catch it. Rowan’s hands weren’t idle though, they worked on untucking her shirt from her pants, touching the bare skin on her waist. That let Rowan recover and his breathing evened out, but with each insistent sweep across Aelin’s body her breath was hitching. Especially when those hands moved higher.

“Once upon a time I promised the first time I would take you wouldn’t be against a tree,” Rowan murmured onto the skin of her neck. Then he pulled back, watching Aelin’s face as he pressed into her firmer, so she could feel every hard line of his body. “It’s not the first time, is it?”

Aelin shook her head furiously, anticipation getting the better of her. They kept eye contact as she looped her arms around her neck and Rowan's hands slid down to her thighs. Cheating or not, Rowan had a point. She could argue this again later when they had more time.

Aelin arched into him, inviting him to take more. “I’m waiting, buzzard.”

Rowan laughed and kissed her again, and this time they didn’t stop until they had both unraveled completely.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this little bit of canon silliness

@rowaelinscourt

#I should have a minimum two more canon works ready in the next 24 hours #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #throne of glass fanfiction

71 notes · View notes

doverstar · 5 months

Note

abed/annie is my community otp, so I would love to hear your essay if you’re willing to share ♥️

girl it would be my pleasure

this is going to be an absolutely enormous word-vomit, please prepare-

I want to start off by saying I actually think Abed is genuinely a little bit crazy. Yes, he might be on the spectrum or have some disorder but the show is so loose with that it never really confirms it, so I’m not going to confirm it either, I just think there’s something-something-spectrum there but I’m not educated enough to understand exactly what they’re communicating he has or is dealing with. I think the safest thing to assume is indeed that he’s insane (he said it himself; he saw literal lava when Troy was leaving) but in a small, functional, unique way that doesn’t make him dangerous except when he wants to cut people’s arms off because “Evil Abed has taken over” hello someone do something about that –

Anyway. It’s super difficult for me to understand what goes on in his head episode-to-episode, but with Annie it’s actually easier? Abed has such a specific set of needs when it comes to relationships that it’s a miracle he found the study group at all. He’s so smart and creative and he’s actually very empathetic and sweet but he doesn’t always seem to know how to express things.

Annie is clearly Abed’s second-best friend in the show (it helps that the actor/actress are best friends too). When he can’t turn to Troy, he can always turn to Annie. She understands him and there’s never been a point where we see that start or end—it just naturally happened and they’re both used to it. Abed is always touching her, always sitting by her, always making eye contact with her, and if you pay close attention to even background scenes, he’s measuring her reactions to things more often than anyone else’s. If I had to guess, I think she’s the group member he understood faster than any of the others. Abed (this is, from what I’m told, part of being on the spectrum? but like I said I am uneducated and don’t want to definitively say something the show decided not to be clear about) needs certain things to be a certain way, or he can’t operate normally. He panics, or gets angry, or tries to mutilate Jeff Wingers. He genuinely thinks he is crazy, and he genuinely thinks no one he meets will be able to deal with him for an extended amount of time. (Let’s begin at the beginning from his POV.) Abed meets Annie (and the group), and she seems like the typical Molly Ringwald girl-next-door; pretty, smart, wants popularity, ambitious. That’s why he chose her when he created the study group. Annie is all of these cliched things, but hey, quickly it’s pretty clear Annie needs things to be a certain way. Annie needs structure and lists and good grades. So she gets it when Abed needs that, what a pleasant surprise! And part of that is that Annie empathizes with everyone around her, without even trying, so much so that she’s depicted often as the heart of the whole study group. She gets Abed, both because they’re the same in lots of ways and they’re the opposite. She can crush easily, explode easily, cry easily, laugh easily. Everything Abed has no idea how to emote. Annie is a volcano of emotions, and they’re triggered most when she’s feeling because of or on behalf of other people.

So here’s this girl near his own age who is orderly and structured, and knows how other people feel and can enter in with them emotionally, including Abed. She’s so nice, and tries so hard. She’s even good at playing pretend (Mixology Certification, party of one?). What a perfect leading lady for the life-movie Abed sees everywhere he goes (because that’s how he makes sense of the world). Annie is the ideal female star he’d want in any story: the girl full of passion and drive.

But then there’s Jeff—the study group’s Judd Nelson—presumably the perfect leading man. When Abed first handpicks the group in the pilot and first season, Jeff wants Britta. Hey, that makes sense, Britta seems to be the leading lady type, actually! She’s nice, she’s strong, she’s beautiful. Works perfectly. And look, Annie wants Troy—the brainy bubbly girl wants the dumb jock, that makes sense too. Everything works. Then things start changing within the dynamic. Troy is actually not that dumb, and not that sports-obsessed—he’s fun, and he’s the ideal bro for Abed, but he doesn’t work with Annie. Britta is not that nice, and not that strong—she’s bad at everything, and she doesn’t understand people, she just wants to and is constantly trying to portray (and then hopefully become) the kind of person that does. And Jeff is a stunted jerk who needs reformation.

Oh, Annie is Abed’s friend now too. She said it herself, and that’s rare in Abed’s life. She called them really good friends, and that’s so important to him that he’ll sit in a room for 26 straight hours with nothing to do because Annie asked him to do it. Troy is not the only character Abed would give up control for. There’s one other from the start, because the moment she told him with all her earnest doe-eyedness they were friends, she had him hook line and sinker.

Season 1 progresses. Jeff and Britta might still work, and Abed seems mildly interested in that if only for the cliches—maybe Britta can make him better. No, wait, Britta is bad at that too. Actually, they’re not good for each other. Actually, they’re bad for each other—they’re bad for everyone. But they have similar terrible flaws and habits, so maybe they do make a good pair. Still fine leads. Still works. And besides, Annie has filled in the place of Troy with hippie Vaughn, which is also fine. Doesn’t really work long-term, but Jeff and Britta drive the plot forward more anyway, so the focus should be on them, right? The group is working. The group is thriving. The TV of life moves along.

(Except Jeff kissed Annie to win the Man Is Good/Evil debate. And Abed predicted it. Which means he was thinking about that as a possibility, because he operates on variables and tries to understand outcomes so that he’s not surprised by anything and can keep his friends for longer by relating to and reacting to them better. Jeff has leading man vibes, Annie has leading lady vibes, that’s one potential outcome. And though he insists he’s just making hypotheses based on what he’s learned about his friends so far, when it does happen right in front of them in real life, they kiss, Abed is just as shocked as the others—he literally can’t take his eyes off them until the debate is won. Then afterward, he tells Shirley he can’t predict the future and uses his plans for Pierce being discovered as a genius next in his home-movies as an example, which he believes would never happen—then Britta calls Pierce a genius right in front of him and Abed looks visibly concerned. Maybe what he predicts about his friends will keep happening, even the things he thinks are the least likely of the potential outcomes. Maybe even Jeff and Annie as the two leads. But that doesn’t make sense, does it? Jeff and Britta are endgame, aren’t they? Annie is too young for a leading man like Jeff. Annie is too nice; Jeff is too selfish. Annie is gorgeous and driven, Jeff is handsome and needs fixing, that would work, no, it would change things too much, it’s too unlikely, back to Jeff and Britta, back to playing with Troy and studying film, don’t give it a second thought—)

Transfer dance happens. Annie is going away for the summer with Vaughn. Classic Annie, has his back, always doing the better thing for the plot, bringing a good end-of-Season twist, but it’s okay, as far as he knows she’ll be back in the fall and besides, Abed’s got to-roomie-or-not-roomie with Troy issues to deal with.

And then the new semester starts after the transfer dance. And Anthropology 101 happens (again, one of my favorite episodes for the group fight at the end when it comes to my lil ships). I’M GONNA TALK ABOUT ANTHROPOLOGY 101 NOW. For A CHUNK of time. Jeff and Britta are doing relationship-drama stuff Abed doesn’t quite care about, until Shirley suggests he’s being selfish and that a real friend would enter into Jeff and Britta’s [incredibly fake and nasty] “happiness” and Abed thinks that could work. Actually, progressing Jeff and Britta’s relationship is a goal he can definitely work with. In fact, if you pay attention to the show, whenever there is an opportunity to advance or out Jeff/Britta, Abed takes that opportunity. And whenever there is an opportunity to put JeffAnnie in an uncomfortable or inevitable, c’est la vie light (which two independence-heavy freaks like Jeff and Annie would consider negatively) he takes that too.

Abed urges Jeff/Britta to get married right there in the library before the fight, gives them the ring, because he thinks that’s the next logical step in their grossness. Special episode, all about Jeff/Britta, endgame endgame endgame! He can work with that. In fact, he’s happy to control that. He leaves the room to inexplicably get an Irish singer, dead-ringer Clooney, and a transportable wedding set.

When he comes back and tries to prep the group for the special wedding episode, everyone is tense and Jeff is bleeding from the nose, and Abed does not notice; he’s intent on advancing the plot and the endgame. Then Troy says, “Abed. Jeff made out with Annie.” And Abed’s immediate reaction is “What? Where? When?” And he looks unhappy, like the rest of them. Jeff made out with Annie, and that means everything Abed thought he understood is incorrect. (And I think it bothers the crap out of him and he doesn’t have the ability to unpack why that is the way most people do because he’s different. Surely he’s just angry for the same reasons the rest of the group is? That must be it. That must be why he’s angry specifically with Jeff, not Britta in any tangible way, or even Annie in a tangible way—until later, which I’ll talk about eventually.) Annie tells him they kissed after the transfer dance in a guilty voice, which is a sheepishness she does not respond with to any of the other members of the group. It’s almost like she’s picking up on Abed’s emotion specifically this time. And while everyone else in the group explodes, and Jeff reduces his kiss with Annie to something he should be ashamed of (accurate) because men are monsters who crave young flesh and Annie looks absolutely crushed like a deer in the headlights, Abed starts packing up to leave. And we only see how angry he is right then—he doesn’t enter into anyone else’s problems. We see him react to “Jeff made out with Annie”, and then this is the next time we see him react. Jeff asks where he’s going and Abed throws out a quippy “I now pronounce you cancelled” with a bounce of his eyebrows in an angry way, at Jeff, and when he tries to leave Jeff hurls insults at his back and Abed stops in the doorway, in a normal-person—again, angry—way and turns around and drops one of the sickest burns of the whole show, that TV makes sense and has “likeable leading men”, and says “In life, we have this. We have you.” And walks out. His anger is not directed at anybody else. He doesn’t help Troy with the Pierce situation. He doesn’t try to fix any of it. It’s like he heard “Jeff made out with Annie”, learned the specifics, and was standing there reeling until eventually he decided he couldn’t deal and went to leave, and wouldn’t have shown just how angry he was with Jeff unless Jeff had provoked him, which he did.

IT'S ALMOST LIKE HE’S MAD JEFF KISSED ANNIE, JUSSAYIN’-

let me pretend I’m a 14-year-old shippy fangirl in my reasoning, okay-

Abed likes logic, and as Season 2 continues, Jeff/Annie gets more and more logical. In fact, even though he has noticed that Jeff and Britta are secretly hooking up in the background of the Season, he is not surprised in Paradigms of Human Memory when Annie calls Jeff out for the will-they-won’t-they he’s been enacting with her, and even says there is something between the two of them, matter-of-factly, which Jeff refuses to own up to. But Abed and Annie are getting closer and closer, too. It’s subtle, but it’s clear they’re 100% comfortable around each other. That becomes super clear by Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas, when, besides Troy, Annie is the only other character to enter into Abed’s way of thinking and play with him, because it’s genuinely important to him and she recognizes that this is what he needs, when everyone else kind of drops off. She helps Abed and Troy stop Duncan from dealing with Abed in a practical, normal way, because she sees that Abed is dealing with something and can only deal with it his way to get through it. That’s incredibly rare for Abed, we see. He’s very attached to her—like I said, often touching her, often sitting by her, often reacting to her.

(I mean hi, in English As A Second Language, Abed thinks he won’t be affected by Annie’s Disney Face; when everyone else obeys Jeff in closing their eyes to it, Abed doesn’t. “Oh don’t worry about me, I can only connect to people through...movies...” literally stops in his tracks when he sees her Disney Face with the cutest wistful twitch of a smile. Jeff has to Indiana-Jones-reference him to make him look away. He doesn’t only connect to people through movies—at least, Annie can get through to him without the need of movies; he’s not a quirky lil robot, he can have normal feelings, but boy does it seem like Annie is the one bringing them out of him more often than most. she gets under his skin ajhzsdkejdb-)

Abed definitely has a crush on Annie. But he doesn’t know how to deal with that or portray it. To his mind, Annie should be with a leading man. Any time he flirts with her, he is pretending to be a leading man from a movie or show. (For a Few Paintballs More, anyone?) Because that’s who she should be paired off with. And that’s what she wants, right? She loooves Jeff Winger now. Britta’s not the leading lady, she never was, that role was always Annie’s, and it makes sense she wants Jeff, and it makes even more sense that Abed is observing the love story, not part of it. Abed is not the leading man, he’s the computer. He watches, analyzes, does not get involved or get the girl.

But he still wants her around, and he can have that much—in fact, when he moves in with Troy and Annie tells him she loves their place, Abed instantly suggests she move in. Not Abed and Troy. Just Abed, and he does not discuss it with his roommate. And Troy seems confused and surprised and gives Abed such an interesting look right after. Annie moves in, Abed agrees to sacrifice some of his routine for her (blanket fort for he and Troy, full bedroom for Annie), things are happy. Things are fine. She puts away his buttered noodles when he’s not finished with them, but she adapts to his needs when he expresses he doesn’t want her to do that; she breaks his Batman DVD but he adapts by forgiving her in a role he can express that in—Batman himself, plus, bonus, he gets to flirt with her as that leading man—and things are better. But then Annie starts trying to control things. Annie starts trying to make life go according to the movie in her head. She tries to get Britta and Troy together, which not only robs Abed of his best friend for a day and disrupts his routine, it makes him angry with Annie. And not just because she tampered with the group’s dynamic, which he doesn’t want anyone else but him to do. okay we’re caught up NOW I get to talk about Virtual Systems Analysis, which is my FAVORITE COMMUNITY EPISODE-

Throughout that episode, Annie is trying to speak in Abed’s language in the Dreamatorium in order to teach him empathy. In the past, she’s had success in communicating with him on his level, but this seems extra hard for some reason. She sees somehow through his expressionless face right away and sees he is angry with her, and though he tries to deflect by saying she’s going to ruin the group by meddling, she eventually does recognize what the problem is. At first she’s convinced Abed just wants Abed’s way and that he needs to be taught how to think of others first (she’s right), but he hears her say that to Troy and it spirals him right into the worry he always has—that he’s crazy, that he’s a problem, that he’ll never fit in because of that, and that when Annie (and anyone else) tries to deal with or fix him, they will get sick of it, give up, and toss him aside. He was already angry with her for a different reason, not just wanting his way again—but now he’s sure she’s done with Abed, too. So he becomes someone else, everyone else, to make his point: that she’s just messing with Britta and Troy so that nothing will stand in the way of her and Jeff.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE SAYS WHEN HE IS PRETENDING TO BE JEFF TO HER? He says, “With Abed gone, and Troy and Britta together, there’s nothing standing in the way of us.” With Abed gone. Why did he say that? Because with Abed gone, Annie gets to be in control of everyone? Obviously not. Or is it because out of everyone, every variable, the only other match that makes sense for Britta is Troy and the only other match that makes sense for Annie is-

Oops, Freudian slip. Oh, she’s not falling for it. And Abed is mad at her because he thinks she set up Britta and Troy so she could be with Jeff. Abed is mad that that’s what she wants. And when she tries to argue it’s not, he literally pretends he is her, logicking it out at her, trying to convince her that that is what she wants, because that’s what he thinks she wants, and her controlling things to cause JeffAnnie makes him mad. But c’est la vie, it’s inevitable anyway, right? Why isn’t she seeing that? Why is she trying to talk about him, he doesn’t want to talk about him, especially not after what she said about him— Then she fights back and tells him that she does not love Jeff, she loves the idea of being loved and if she can teach a guy like Jeff to love her, she’ll never be alone. And then she finds out that’s what Abed is afraid of, too. No—that’s what Abed is used to. “I’ve run the simulations, Annie. I don’t get married. [Why is that the first thing he said?] I don’t etc. etc.”

He’s afraid he’ll be alone, and people will always be getting tired of him and throwing him away. Didn’t Annie get tired of him? But she doesn’t, she’s not—in fact, she understands him. She shows him other members of the group understand that feeling, too. She uses his language to explain to him that he’s wrong, and that neither of them should be trying to make life go according to a script in their heads. Abed sees that she does understand, and if she can get into his head and understand him, she really can do it with anyone, and if she can do it, maybe he can too. Annie helps him and makes him a better person, because she reminds him to empathize, which is something Abed didn’t think he could do. Okay I just spent a long time talking about Abed’s perspective. A tiny bit of Annie now, because this is going on too long. As for Annie, she is afraid of being alone and unloved. She’s “psycho”, she’s crazy too, because someone who empathizes that much and can exude that much emotion does seem crazy to other people. She’s a different crazy than Abed, but her brand of psycho lends itself well to getting and communicating with him, because his crazy is escapism and her crazy is confrontation. His crazy is emotionless, her crazy is emotional. His crazy is control, her crazy is compassion. Her parents cut her off, her high school shunned her, Troy never noticed her, of course she’s scared of being ditched. Of being unimportant. Annie’s need to be perfect comes from the need to feel valued. And doesn’t Abed understand the need to not feel left alone? Doesn’t he understand everything needing to be just so, doesn’t he understand wanting to feel important but never expecting it? Just the computer. Just the observer. Wait. Didn’t he invite her to live with him, voluntarily? Doesn’t he always seem to be choosing her to sit by, don’t they always seem to be reassuring one another with a look or a touch? He gets how she feels about Jeff and Britta and their monopolization (hi Basic Sandwich), he gets when she’s feeling insecure, he gets when she needs to escape, just for a second, to pretend to be someone else in any given scenario so that she can take a risk or get out of her comfort zone, and he excels at that so they often do it together. They don’t have to be alone, they have each other. Annie doesn’t have to be perfect, Abed doesn’t have to be normal, and neither of them have to be in control. But nobody listens to me and instead we have Jeff kissing Annie and Brie Larson in a sweater. And don’t get me started on VCR Maintenance and Educational Publishing and why Abed and Annie are individually trying so hard to fight each other’s third-roommate preferences-

47 notes · View notes

harrowharkwife · 23 hours

Note

for the character meme: dulcie or cam or pal or a character of ur choosing!!! hehe

!!!!! ty lem!! im gonna do my girl dulcie...

favorite thing about them: honestly just the way she's written- it never fails to make me emotional that she *is* explicitly written as being brave and strong, but tamsyn neatly sidesteps the "inspiration porn" ableist stereotype of writing a character as being brave/strong *because* they are sick. dulcie isn't brave or strong because of her illness. her strength and bravery are explicitly positioned, IMO, as being in response to surviving *ableism* and other people's condescension towards her and mistreatment of her, rather than surviving her illness itself, if that makes sense. her health is just a fact of her life, it's not moralized. which i really, really appreciate. it's a small shift, but it's very meaningful to me.

ALSO deeply special to me: her intentional and careful commitment to boundaries re: The Palamedes Of It All. a refreshing change of pace, as far as these books go vgjtjxdjt

least favorite thing about them: i mean. houser. :/

favorite line: three way tie between "truly, wonderful news for my haters," "i am sick of roses and horny for revenge," and "oops, there i go again, never doing what i'm told"

brOTP: gideon!!!!! i think it's a crying shame they've never met. i think they'd get along tremendously. the whole cytherea gideon thing was Horrid and Awful in so many ways, but it always Extra stings (in an adding-insult-to-injury sort of way) when i think about what it would have been like if gideon had REALLY met dulcinea, and not cyth. dulcie would've been a great friend for her, i think. they'd have been so good at making each other laugh

OTP: honestly these days it's cam? @ palamedes ily but get outta here gayboy it's yuri time now. plus i just love chewing on the concept of cam + comphet, and cam + subconscious internalized misogyny, and cam + gender, and cam + her relationships and interactions with other women. i think there's lots to explore there. camdulcie has a certain "when i was eight i didn't realize i had a crush on the new girl in my grade so i just wrote her a note that said 'get out of my school'" energy about it, To Me

nOTP: idk if i really have one for her, specifically? idk. ianthe or something, fuck it.

random headcanon: stoner. on all levels except physical she is taking fuckall huge bong rips. on the physical level though her lungs suck so i think she'd be a tincture girlie. she's got chronic pain she deserves it. am i projecting? you tell me

unpopular opinion: idk if this is an unpopular opinion exactly, but i always see people referring to thee rejected proposal as being something born primarily out of love/out of romantic intent? and i don't know if that's necessarily how i see it. it was CERTAINLY, and obviously, a factor. but at least from my interpretation of pal's monologue to cytherea at the end there, i get the sense that he had already accepted her boundaries in that regard, because he says he "understood that he was a child." and we also get camilla saying that his motivations in proposing were primarily a means-to-an-end way of getting her off the seventh and letting her die with dignity. iirc her exact words were like "so she could spend what time she had left with people who cared about her." like, don't get me wrong, i think pal is lying to himself if he says that being in love with dulcie wasn't PART of the motivation there. but i find it a lot more interesting in a worldbuilding and social commentary way to interpret the circumstances there as him offering, essentially, to be a hospice doctor at age 19, and marriage being the 'easiest' way to get her off the seventh/planet medical malpractice. there's an imperial misogyny ownership-through-marriage throughline there that's nauseating, as well as the implications re: disability and agency and autonomy, and i think that's all very interesting to explore. i think this view is supported in part by the paldulcie interaction in TUG, where she alludes to the idea that she was cognizant about the impact that bearing witness to death and loss up-close and personal like that changes a person, and that she didn't want to do that to pal and cam, especially given their age. i think it informa dulcie's character and grants her additional narrative agency to look at things from that angle, of her "no" being in reference to *both* the age gap AND her intentional choice to continue suffering on the seventh, rather than put two kids through being hospice caregivers and/or widowers at nineteen– no matter how many times and how sincerely they kept offering, no matter that she would've absolutely had a more peaceful and comfortable end-of-life HAD she accepted his proposal and gone to the sixth to die. i think it says a lot about her as a person, that choice. there's a quiet and meaningful responsibility to her as a person that i find fascinating. and her character is just sooooo firmly rooted in and informed by disability politics, on every level, and i feel like people don't engage with that aspect of her characterization enough!

song i associate with them: ooooh SO many, i have a whole playlist. but i think the biggest ones are

-the drama by kesha ("friday night, get too high, keep checking my pulse, am i dead yet?" / "in the next life i wanna come back, as a housecat as a housecat! i'd sleep and play in the sun, i'd be a fuckin' cute son of a gun!")

-avant gardener by courtney barnett (the whole song really, but especially the lines "the paramedic thinks i'm clever cause i play guitar, i think she's clever cause she stops people dyin'," and "i take a hit off an asthma puffer, i do it wrong, i was never good at smokin' bongs." i just think she'd love this song.)

-honorable mentions include stoned at the nail salon by lorde, life according to raechel by madison cunningham, rose-colored boy by paramore (@ palamedes, lmfao), picture me better by weyes blood, extraordinary machine by fiona apple, rubberband girl by kate bush, last words of a shooting star by mitski.

favorite picture of them: oh man well it obviously has to be my icon... art made for me by the lovely @franzias-cave !!!! based on the concept of "the woman is dying, please do her the decency of allowing her to look the part in fanart." my girl... she's a malign fairy, she's a hot-eyed wraith <3

ty lem this was so fun! i love my gworl :')

20 notes · View notes

karahalloway · 2 months

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 17 - News Flash

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper and the Beaumonts get on a plane to Italy… but they are not riding solo

Word Count: 4,500

Rating/Warnings: M (using the Lord's name in vain, shocking revelations, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: And… we’re back! I know this is a bit delayed, thanks to my new Heaven’s Secret distraction, but I am hoping to refocus myself on this continuously neglected series again for the next few weeks/months so we can make some headway towards wrapping it up. Also, I know we all miss him, and he hasn’t had as much page time as we all (Harper included!) probably want, but I promise that after this chapter there will be a lot more Drake again 🥃

A/N2: Astute readers will probably notice that there is nary a train in sight (in this chapter, or any future ones). This is deliberate because (i) I never understood why PB went in that direction in canon (is a travelling boutique really that important?!), and (ii) trains don’t make sense from a security point of view anyway (apparently the UK’s Royalty and Specialist Protection — which provides close protection to the royal family — used to hate it when Elizabeth II travelled by train, because it was always a massive headache to ensure her safety as trains travel on a fixed route and schedule, with no opportunities for diversion or evasion of things go to pot). So… planes it is ✈️

A/N3: Finally, another special shoutout to @thegreentwin for giving me the inspiration to have a crack at creating the tabloid cover page featured in this chapter. If you have not read The Rebel Prince, please do so! It is cute, funny, insightful and the gossip magazine covers that accompany several of the chapters are something else!

Chapter 17 - News Flash

"I thought we're going to Italy..." I remark the next morning as we pull to a stop on the tarmac of a secluded private airfield.

"We are," confirms Bertrand, jamming a fedora onto his head to protect against the ferocity of the morning sun... and hide the brutal sunburn he managed to acquire as a result of spending the entirety of yesterday's Festival outdoors without any SPF protection.

"Then what's with the literal mountain of luggage?" I ask as we step out of our customary limo.

Bertrand fixes me with a red-faced glare over the roof of the vehicle. "Have you learnt nothing from the social season?"

I throw him a deadpan look. "You mean apart from the fact that you insist on packing everything, including the kitchen sink?"

Maxwell's snort drifts up from the backseat.

The elder Beaumont is not impressed with my clapback. "The engagement tour will be one high-profile event after the other, which means that we will have neither the time nor the opportunity to engage in slap-dash shopping sprees. Not only would such proletarian behaviour be rude, but it would be misguided as well, given that we need to ensure that for each event we abide not just by the formal dress code indicated on the invitation, but also that we do not clash with, or indeed overshadow the hosts — or the King and future Queen, for that matter! — in terms of style and colour, all while being thoughtful in ensuring that we incorporate elements from both local and Cordonian designers to visually showcase the strength of the bonds that knit our respective nations together. On top of all that, it is imperative that we—"

"How the heck is anyone expected to pull all that off?" I blurt in disbelief.

"Through careful planning and coordination," Bertrand declares as he comes to join Maxwell and me on the other side of the limo. "Which is why I have taken the liberty of pre-selecting each outfit for each event of the tour, in consultation with the Palace's Master of the Robes."

My mouth drops. "You... Put a wardrobe together? For me?"

"Yes," comes the diffident affirmation. "Given that all eyes — not just those of our fellow Cordonians, but of our host nations' — will be on us constantly, we cannot afford any fashion faux pas."

I stare at my former sponsor mutely, mouth opening and closing like a dumbfounded goldfish.

Maxwell attempts to diffuse my slap-faced reaction with a jovial grin. "Bertrand used to lay my clothes out for me all the time when we were younger. I know he doesn't look it, but he has excellent—"

I shove an accusatory finger out. "He tried to foist me into a Medieval cosplay dress! That is the exact opposite of excellent taste!"

The elder Beaumont bristles. "It was hardly—"

"And how the hell did you afford all of this anyway?" I interject, throwing my arm out towards the carefully stacked Eiffel Tower of suitcases. "Because last time I checked, you were flat broke!"

Bertrand's already ruddy complexion darkens further. "There is no need for you to concern yourself with—"

"How?!"

After the way Maxwell had tried to sell covert photos and Christian and me from New York to the press in a bid to make bank, I am not willing to take any kind of half-baked deflection when it comes to the Beaumonts and money. I've been used one too many times for someone else's gain, so my trust is virtually non-existent at this point.

Bertrand swallows thickly as he averts his eyes. "I... I may have made recourse to an old sewing machine I found in the attic..."

My eyes just about pop out of my head. "You what?!"

I'd expected any one of six million other explanations — he'd sold the vineyard... remortgaged Ramsford... auctioned off every last chair and curtain from the manor... Even offered his soul to the literal Devil...

But using a sewing machine...? To make actual clothes...?

I had obviously caught the sun yesterday as well, and am now suffering from heat stroke...

"Bertrand has always been interested in fashion," explains Maxwell with a perfectly straight face. "He even wanted to enroll at the world-renowned Istituto Marangoni International in Milan to study Fashion Design. But then our father took unexpectedly ill, and—"

"Yes, yes..." interjects Bertrand with an embarrassed wave of his hand. "No need to revisit broken dreams and unfulfilled promises. The point is that I made the best use of what meagre funds and resources we had at our disposal to curate a serviceable selection of outfits for each of us. With a little help from Maxwell, of course."

"I was the mannequin," he declares proudly. "I admit, I got poked a few times in the line of duty, but it was worth it. Bertrand did a stellar job – you're going to love what he made for you."

"I... I don't know what to say..." I admit faintly.

And here I'd been thinking that Bertrand's closet Harry Potter obsession had been a big reveal...

"Yes... Well..." Bertrand clears his throat uncomfortably. "We each have our unique talents. Speaking of... I trust you have been practicing your Italian?"

I frown. "My what?"

"You were supposed to give her lessons!" cries Bertrand, smacking his brother over the back of the head.

Maxwell's retro '60s sunglasses fly off his face. "My Prada’s...!"

"What about French?" Bertrand demands, rounding on me with all the intensity of a furious tomato on the verge of exploding.

"Allard and Schweitzer have been teaching—"

"Some initiative at last!" exclaims Bertrand, throwing his hands up in the air in deliverance. "Good — you'll have some semblance of a basis, then. However, while both languages share a common root — that being Latin — and a border, as a result of roughly fifteen centuries of historical and linguistic divergence, Italian has become markedly different from its Gallic cousin, so we will have our work cut out in making you even semi-proficient by the time we land in Rome. So, I hope you brought pen and paper with you."

My shoulders slump as I watch Bertrand stride off towards the waiting plane. "Great..."

There goes the next hour and a half of my life...

"I knew I had forgotten something..." admits Maxwell, rubbing the back of his head as he retrieves his sunglasses from the tarmac. "But I thought it was just my second favourite pair of boxers."

"It's fine..." I assure wearily him as I begin my own trudge towards the jet. "It wouldn't be a true Beaumont travel experience without a droning Bertrand lecture..."

Though I guess it could be worse. I could be stuck on the royal jet with Christian and Madeleine. Which — after what happened yesterday — would be like staging an aristocratic rendition of Squid Game... 20,000 feet in the air. So, on that basis, I'll willingly subject myself to Bertrand's monologuing any day of the week, if it means I can—

"And there she is..." remarks a familiar, though very much unexpected voice as I step onto the plane. "The woman of the hour."

Jerking my head to the right, my eyes land on Olivia, lounging on one of the cream-coloured leather seats, her killer spike stiletto boots dangling over the armrest as she casually peruses a broadsheet.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in disbelief.

Olivia lowers the paper to meet my eye with a quirked brow. "You mean, on my own aircraft?"

I cast a glance in Bertrand's direction as I make my way down the gangway. "Guess your meagre funds and resources didn't extend to sourcing jet fuel?"

Bertrand coughs evasively as he stores his briefcase in the overhead locker. "Since we are all heading in the same direction anyway, Lady Oliva was kind enough to—"

"Shut it, Beaumont," Olivia snaps. "I am doing this as a personal favour, not an act of charity. As Lord knows that I wouldn't normally tolerate sharing recycled air with this many people in a confined space. So, if you want to stay on this plane, you will save the histrionics for the Italian President."

Bertrand promptly clamps his mouth shut to sink into his seat without another word.

"Wow..." I say, settling in across from Olivia. "He must've been really desperate to come to you for help... No offence."

"None taken," she replies with a breezy shrug as she flips the broadsheet closed and nods to the cabin attendant. "Because the request didn't come from the Beaumonts."

My head snaps up in surprise. "Then who?"

She regards me for a long moment, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she lets out a resigned exhale. "Drake."

My jaw hits the floor. "What!"

Olivia scrunches her mouth up ruefully. "He twisted my arm into agreeing to look out for you while he's off playing desert soldier."

I stare at her. "How in the world did he—?"

Maxwell thrusts his head 'round the back of Olivia's seat. "Drake's playing video games! Instead of coming to Italy?”

The Duchess of Lythikos shoves the intruding face away with the palm of her hand. "No, you imbecile! Drake's gone to Dubai." Glancing at me she adds, "I presume they know?"

"They do now," I concede with a sigh.

Thanks to the slew of quick-fire developments at yesterday's Festival, followed by the rabid packing to get ourselves ready for the international leg of the tour, I haven't had a chance to bring the Beaumonts up to speed with everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours.

But they're bound to find out about Drake's last-minute side-trip at some point, so this is as good a time as any to level with them.

Maxwell’s mouth drops with an aghast look. "But I didn't hit him that hard!"

Olivia quirks a brow at me.

"Long story, don't ask," I tell her wearily. Glancing up at Maxwell, I add, "He's gone after Tariq. Bastien found him hiding out on some rich cousin's yacht out in the bay."

"Oh." Maxwell scratches his head abashedly. "That makes more sense..."

"How do you put up with these two?" asks Olivia with a shake of her head as Maxwell sinks back into his seat.

I give her a shrug. "They have a weird way of growing on you..."

"Like some deadly fungus..." she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

"I heard that!" objects Maxwell from behind her.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't eavesdrop, then!" she throws over her shoulder snidely. Turning back to me, she adds, "And speaking of funguses, you can remind your boyfriend when he gets back that you both owe me. Big time."

My gaze darts to hers. "I— We're not—"

"Thank you for confirming it," she interjects with a sly smile. "But also, I'm not an idiot. It's obvious to anyone with a set of eyes that the fool is in love with you... and you with him. It's all quite disgusting, really..."

I feel my cheeks redden. "So, why help us, then?"

She heaves a low breath. "Because you stuck your neck out for me when you didn't have to. Despite everything I did to try and undermine you during the season. And because we have a common enemy."

She tosses the broadsheet that she'd been reading over to me.

Catching the copy of the Cordonia Sun before it has a chance to slide off the table between us, I glance down...

...and my heart sinks as I take in the unflattering picture of myself seemingly facing off against Madeleine under the sensationalist headline.

I shove the paper angrily away. "Hey. I didn't start it..."

"And yet you somehow always manage to find yourself in the middle of it, don't you?" she counters with an arched brow as the jet revs its engines for take-off. "The half-nude pictures... The Beaumonts' financial troubles... The speculations about the real reason Christian gave you a duchy... I mean, even the Duchess of Sussex would have a hard time competing with you when it comes to front-page scandals."

"And you think Madeleine is behind it all?" I ask tightly, indicating the tabloid.

"She would certainly have a lot to gain from waging a targeted media campaign against you," Olivia affirms. "She isn't married to Christian yet, and after what happened with Leo, she no doubt feels threatened by your continued presence at court. So, discrediting your integrity in the eyes of the Council would help her ensure that Christian can never formally pick you over her to become Queen."

"Because she doesn't know I turned him down..." I grumble dejectedly as the plane pulls into the air.

"And certainly would not believe you if you told her, either," she adds. "But she is not the only one with something to lose."

I sit up straighter. "You mean there are other suspects?"

"Yes," she nods. "Namely Godfrey and the Queen Mother."

Bertrand erupts from his seat at the mention of the two names. "That is an outrageous accusation! The Queen Mother would never—!"

"Madeleine is her niece," counters Olivia flatly. "Given that she has no children of her own, she practically treats that golden-haired harpy as if she is her heir. And since she was the one who brokered the original marriage contract between Leo and Madeleine, she clearly doesn't want all that work going to waste."

I frown. "But if everything was in place already, why have a social season at all? Why not just sub out Leo's name for Christian's in the contract?"

"To give Christian the illusion of choice."

My jaw drops. "You're not serious..."

"It would have been in poor taste to simply swap one prince out for another," Olivia advises. "Leo hadn't died... merely abdicated. But that decision nevertheless rocked the kingdom to its core."

"It's true," supplies Maxwell, leaning around with a mouth full of jelly worms. "The headlines were vicious."

"So..." I muse with a frown. "The Palace needed a distraction?"

"Yes," Oliva affirms seriously. "To draw attention away from Constantine's failing health."

"Wait," I cut in. "Constantine is dying?"

Olivia nods. "Prostate cancer. By all estimates, he has less than a year to live."

"Oh, my God..." I gasp, hand flying to my mouth. "No wonder Christian didn't want to talk about it..."

"The Palace is under strict instructions to keep the whole thing tightly under wraps..." she explains. "At least until after the coronation and wedding are both out of the way. They don't want the news to overshadow the first few critical months of Christian's rule."

"So, how did you find out?" I query.

She cuts her eyes over at me. "Like I said at the Masquerade Ball... Christian and I share a special connection. There are no secrets between us. Also – look at who you're talking to. I have files on each of the suitors from the social season. You seriously think I wouldn't know about something as vital to the functioning of the kingdom as the state of the King Father's health?"

"I guess not..." I concede, still trying to process this bombshell. "But how does giving Christian an illusion of a choice during the social season help cover up Constantine's cancer?"

"In the wake of Leo's abdication, support for the Rys family fell to an all-time low. The press started to question Constantine's policies, and the direction that the kingdom has been heading over the past few decades, implying that the country's current trajectory was unsustainable... and uncorrectable."

"I remember reading something about that on the flight from New York..." I recall. "There were suggestions that Leo abdicated because he didn't believe in the future of the monarchy."

"Which wasn't the case at all," she cautions. "But the Palace was worried that such intense media scrutiny would unearth evidence of Constantine's ill health... which would in turn intensify the calls from the republican factions of the country to abolish the system of hereditary rule completely. So, in a desperate bid to reunite the people behind a common cause, and shore up support for the monarchy, the Palace decided run the season again."

"But why?" I ask, still not seeing the connection.

"To charm the country with the fairytale of a royal romance," denotes Olivia sourly. "Because people apparently go ga-ga for that shite..."

Bertrand narrowly avoids choking in his seat across the aisle. "That is a crude and absolutely salacious interpretation of—!"

I whirl across the aisle. "Wait. You knew about this?"

Bertrand folds his arms across his chest. "I am a serving member of the Council. Of course I knew about the Palace's decision to run the social season again. But to suggest that it was all done simply for the sake of—"

"God, you're thick..." interjects Olivia.

Bertrand blanches. "I beg your pardon?!"

"You've been at court long enough to know that the truth is never the whole truth — there is always some hidden purpose or ulterior motive."

"But to suggest that—"

"The Palace needed a believable story — one that could capture the public's imagination — while still serving the needs of the kingdom," Olivia states. "A story of duty and love."

"Between Christian and Madeleine?" I ask sceptically. "But they don't even like each other."

"So?" scoffs Olivia. "The aim was to sell the lie to the populace. Everything else is inconsequential. And can be made to fit the narrative."

"But if you knew all this," I counter, "why did you join the competition?"

"I joined exactly because I knew the season was a sham," she replies heatedly. "To give Christian a genuine choice... not just the one that everyone else was determined to steer him towards."

"Because you love him..."

Olivia nods tightly. "Yes. And I knew it was a long shot. But even if he wouldn't end up being able to choose me — Regina would've made sure to stack the Council votes in her favour — at least I could be there to support him... as a friend."

I feel my heart go out to her, knowing from personal experience how difficult it is to be in a situation where you desperately want to be with someone, but can't because of circumstances that are outside of your control.

"But then, of course..." adds Olivia, once again with her customary breeziness, "you show up from out of nowhere with your hideous accent and relatable backstory—"

"Hey!"

"—and the whole country — Christian included — loses their collective minds. With the result that Regina's plan to make her niece Queen begins to unravel at the seams."

"Which is why she decided to set me up..." I surmise heavily as the jet levels off.

It's been fairly obvious from the start that I'm not Regina's favourite person... But the knowledge that she'd go to such lengths to publicly blacklist me? That's just inexcusable.

"You have no proof of that!" objects Bertrand, butting in again.

"Not directly, no," Olivia admits. "But all the evidence we have to date fits. The money Tariq received for his involvement came from a numbered account located in Switzerland. The blackmail letters distributed at the Coronation Ball were printed on Palace stationery. And as far as motives go, the Queen Mother would have more reason than most to influence the outcome of the social season."

"I cannot believe I am hearing this...!" decries Bertrand with a shake of his head. "The implications alone would be—"

"Ruinous to the Rys family," confirms Olivia. "I am aware. Which is why we must tread carefully in order to avoid tarring Christian with any of this. The monarchy would not survive the ensuing scandal."

"What about this other guy?" I ask. "Godfrey? How does he fit into this?"

Olivia throws her hands up. "Lord, you're more clueless than him!"

"Excuse me for not knowing every single Cordonian nobleman by name," I snark back. "I've only been a duchess for a day..."

"I'll send you my files," Olivia huffs wearily. "All two hundred of them."

My eyes widen. "There's two hundred—?"

"There's more, but those are the important ones," she replies with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And if you want to be an effective duchess, I suggest you study up because you need to have the entire contents of those dossiers memorised and ready to deploy in any given conversation."

"Sweet Jesus..." I gasp faintly, making recourse to Drake's favourite invective, as it certainly fit the magnitude of the task Olivia has just dumped on me.

"You didn't grow up in this world, so you have a lot of catching up to do," Olivia shrugs unabashedly.

"Yeah, I'm very much aware of that..." I concede dryly, rubbing my temples. "So, who is this Godfrey?"

"The Third Earl of Huntford, and Duke jure uxoris of Krona."

My brows furrow in recollection. "Krona... Does that mean he's—?"

"He's Madeleine's dad," supplies Maxwell, popping his head into the aisle again, this time in the company of a CapriSun juice pouch.

My eyes widen. "The man at the garden party! But what does he have against me? I've never even met him!"

"The fact that you are still here..." offers Olivia blandly. "Competing against his daughter for the attentions of the King."

"It's not exactly a competition," I scoff. "I'm not trying to steal him away from her."

"Except that isn't how the press is portraying it," counters Olivia pointedly, tapping the front page of the Sun.

I open my mouth again, but quickly shut it, realising that Olivia is right. As regardless of my personal reasons for being back at court — as the Royal Consort, no less! — the view from the outside presents very differently. And given that Madeleine herself clearly feels threatened by my continued presence at Christian's side, it's no small jump to imagine that her father — who, based on what I saw at the garden party a few days ago, is just as power-hungry and image-conscious as his daughter — would also feel the same.

"Crap..." I huff, falling back into my seat dejectedly.

"Not the most elegant of phrasing," muses Olivia. "But certainly succinct."

"What am I going to do?" I ask morosely, starting up at the cabin's air vents.

"Help me gather as much proof as we can during the course of the tour," Olivia instructs. "So we can narrow down our suspect list... or indict all three of them. In either case, we will be more effective if we work together."

"That plan is akin to sedition!" cries Bertrand, clearly aghast by the very suggestion. "Bordering on treason! All of us are in enough hot water already without—"

"Which is why it is imperative that no word of anything that we have just discussed leaves this aircraft," declares Olivia with a steely look. "Or I will personally hunt you down and turn your face inside out."

I gulp at the gruesomeness of that particular image. "What... What about the staff? Can you trust them?"

"They are all Lythikosians," Olivia states. "Who have sworn blood-oaths to House Nevrakis. They would never dare betray me."

"Good to know..." I admit, watching the cabin attendant re-appeared with a selection of drinks, and wondering if underneath her uniform she is as armed to the teeth as Olivia supposedly is.

"I presume the same goes for your beefcakes?" asks Olivia, nodding her chin towards the back where Allard and Schweitzer have taken up residence for the duration of the flight.

"Yes," I confirm. "I trust them with my life."

She dips her head in approval. "Good. So, as first order of business, I suggest—"

"Can we tell Hana?" interjects Maxwell, bobbing up from behind Olivia again. "She's helping us, too!"

Olivia heaves a breath. "Yes, fine. But—"

I hold up a hand. "And Drake will probably want t—"

"Yes, fine!" she snaps irately. "Anyone else? Your maternal grandmother, perhaps?"

I bite my bottom lip as I peek up at her. "Do we tell Christian?"

Olivia holds my gaze for a long moment. "No. Not until we have concrete proof. One way or another. He has enough crises to manage right now without lumbering him with a major constitutional one as well."

I nod in understanding. The mere suggestion that his godmother and future father-in-law have been conspiring to put Madeleine on the throne (potentially with his fiancée's own buy-in!) would be soul-destroying. Which is why we need to find that smoking gun — ideally several — before we present our accusations.

"Not sure if it will be of any help at all," I say, "but Ana de Luca managed dig up some information on the freelance photographer Tariq was working with on the day of the Jamboree."

"Did you bribe her with another exclusive?" chaffs Olivia dryly.

"We'll need someone to help us set the record straight," I affirm. My shoulders slump suddenly. "But I gave the flash-drive to Drake."

"Which he gave to me," smirks Olivia, pulling the device from the pocket of her jacket.

I gape at the piece of plastic in her hand. "Drake really trusts you, huh?"

"More than most," she shrugs coyly, flipping the drive over to me.

I catch it with both hands. "We should review whatever is on here. Who knows? Maybe the photographer is part of the press corps covering the tour."

"I have my laptop with me," Maxwell offers. "I was going to use it to mix some tunes, but—"

"You'll only get one chance to unravel a high-stakes aristo racket!" I quip, dangling the drive between my fingers.

"God, your incessant American optimism is stomach-turning..." Olivia groans. "And you've clearly spent too much time with Walker."

"Hey," I hit back. "This is the best lead we've gotten yet. We shouldn't discount it. This photographer could be key to linking Regina and/or Godfrey to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season."

"Assuming you can find them..." counters Olivia. "And get them to talk."

I meet her eye with a level look. "Good thing that's your area of expertise, isn't it, Duchess?"

The corner of her mouth lifts craftily.

"But what about Harper's Italian!" disparages Bertrand. "We'll be landing in less than an hour, and she still doesn't know the proper way to greet the President in his native tongue without insulting him!"

I swallow a groan. "Do I really need t—?"

"Being able to carry a conversation with the Head of State in Italian will go a long way in demonstrating to both the public and the press that you are serious about your new role as Duchess of Valtoria," he advises frankly. "And will score you some much-needed diplomatic points with our hosts as well."

"Guess we have our work cut out for us, then," I accede with a sigh. "Any chance for some coffee?"

"Turkish, Irish, or Sicilian?" asks Olivia.

"Which is closest to a latte?"

"Probably the Sicilian," she advises. "If you make it into a granita di caffe."

"I'm feeling Italian already!" I gibe in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

Bertrand groans loudly from his seat. "Oh, Dio..."

The story continues in Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890 @mywildheartremains

(Less Than) Noble Intentions only (let me know if you want to be added!)

@thetruthisthatiloveyou @anakjaybon-blog

#harper gale #drake walker #the royal romance #less than noble intentions #maxwell beaumont #bertrand beaumont #olivia nevrakis #trr au fanfic #Spotify

41 notes · View notes

renjihoe · 8 months

Text

My Thoughts on Juvia and Gray’s Relationship.

May contain spoilers for the anime & 100yq manga but I’ll be as vanilla about it as possible. This is a long one so get comfy.

A few years ago, I used to be upset at the fact that Gruvia took so long to happen. But now that I’m older and I’ve hyper fixated on the couple long enough, I’ve learned to appreciate their relationship for what it is now and for what it was in the beginning. From the start I’ve always shipped Gruvia but I never expected them to be together in the first place, PLUS I only shipped them because I honestly just liked the idea of them being together. Liking the idea of a couple and the couple actually being good together is two different things and I knew that. My initial thought was “how funny would it be if they actually got together”. Kinda like a gag if you will. But overtime I started to REALLY appreciate their build up. There are plenty of couples out there in popular anime who’s relationships parallel to Gruvia, (the girl or guy is deeply in love and the other party pays them no mind). But what I really hate about relationships like that is when they get slapped together at the end just to please an audience. If Mashima did the same thing, I could honestly say I probably wouldn’t be shipping Juvia and Gray to this day, but luckily for me and other Gruvia fans he did not go that route. People say that fans forced Gruvia to be canon which is just not true since FROM THE BEGINNING of the series, Gray was told by the fortune teller that he would be tangled up with a water woman in the near future. Plus the simple fact that their characters were designed to match each others (water and ice), Juvia is also a semi-yandere (I only say semi because Juvia won’t actually do anything to hurt Gray or the others she cares about) and Gray is a Tsundere. In the beginning Gray was honestly just a dick to Juvia, but that was more for comedic effect which me being a hard core Gruvia fan at the time, sometimes I didn’t appreciate. But now a days I really do appreciate the comedy between the two characters because I’ve realized there is a good balance between their comedy and the seriousness of how they actually feel about each other. You could even call Gruvia a slow burn but in my eyes the pacing is perfect and very realistic.

Here are my thoughts on Gruvia from Gray’s perspective. Gray was pretty compassionate towards Juvia when they first met, even though they were enemies, Juvia of course gets love at first sight. As they get to know each other, Juvia’s love grows more and more intense and in Gray’s eyes it comes across as pushy. Though I personally saw her love for him being a “I see you need love, let me love you” type thing. He slowly (very slowly lmao) warms up to Juvia and they start going on jobs together and forming a close friendship, to the point where they would rather go on jobs together instead of with the rest of the team.

And then the plot starts to get a bit heavier and so does their relationship. Juvia and Gray have multiple occasions where they make protecting each other their main mission. But two particular scenes stood out to me in the last two anime arcs. Juvia sacrifices her relationship with Gray to do what was best for him, we all know the scene so I won’t go into details for the sake of time and spoilers. But in that moment that’s when I decided I didn’t ship them just because the idea was cute, I shipped them because they NEEDED each other. Juvia finally understood Gray and his history, while Gray not only understood his festering feelings for her BUT he got the closure he deserved of his family, all thanks to Juvia. Although there were subtle hints that Gray started to develop feelings way earlier on than this scene, THIS is when he knew for sure how he felt.

The last and finally scene that pretty much sealed the deal for them being my otp was when they both sacrifice themselves to save each other. **cries 😭** We got a full length scene of them damn near confessing how much they meant to each other. We all know what happens at the end of that scene, then Gray makes a promise to Juvia and that was to take her feelings more seriously. The thought of him loosing someone else he loved definitely shocked him into reality and broke that Tsundere spell that was casted on to him by the creators…well kinda. In the anime Gray eventually confesses his feelings in a round about way and I HATED IT! I just wanted him to lay it all out there on the table. But maturing is realizing that, that actually wasn’t the confession and that’s apparent in 100yq.

Although I would love for them to just be together already, I appreciate Mashima and Ueda taking their time with this couple and really putting emphasis on their shared character/relationship development. I also appreciate that we get this development through Gray’s perspective, it adds a bit more to them as a couple. In conclusion, I’m lonely and I want what they have. No but seriously I’m soaking up every bit we get from Gruvia! Since Gruvia days is coming up, I had planned on doing a relationship/couple analysis from Gray’s perspective but this honestly sums it up lol!

#fairy tail #fairy tail manga #fairy tail anime #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia #gray x juvia #fairy tail ships #fairy tail couples #fairy tail 100 years quest #ft #ft 100yq #anime #manga #character analysis #couple analysis #anime couple #i hate how much i love them

135 notes · View notes

blooming-water-roses · 9 months

Note

Tobirama for the ask game plss

Yayyy comin' right up!

favorite thing about them

His intelligence & skillset. Also his self-control & discipline. It commands respect. His voice too, whew it's so authoritative. I also think his character design is so cool! The blue wardrobe against his pale skin and hair (I support the headcanon that he's albino, I think it adds so much depth) with his red eyes and face marks. How prettily his eyes are shaped too. His sarcasm and dry humor. And (last thing I promise) when he gets so indignant after Nart mistakes his jutsus for Minato's. (i literally named almost everything whoops)

Cont. below cut:

least favorite thing about them

His stubbornness & huge ego. The man will never admit he is wrong out loud even when he knows he is.

favorite line

"First you must take a hard look at yourself and come to understand who you are objectively."

This speaks to who he is as a person. Look at yourself unbiased, with all of your shortcomings, your flaws, and your weaknesses as well as your strengths, know your limits and know what you're willing to do to lessen your faults. It's how he came to be who he is, and man if it isn't good advice.

brOTP

HashiTobi obvs. I think their brotherly relationship is cute. Hashirama is the older sibling and yet the one who is more responsible and level-headed is Tobirama. Also the fact that Tobirama lived his life to realize Hashirama's dream of his village--as he knew Hashirama was a visionary but lacked the concrete know-how to actually execute his vision.

OTP

I have two.

TobiIzu in the way that they were true equals and I headcanon the idea that while Tobirama harbored the generational mentality that Uchiha were evil, he was also very fascinated by the Uchiha in general because of their traditions/prowess, and Izuna's strength and abilities in particular were so intricate, it was his favorite thing to study. Izuna got under his skin (which amused Izuna) and Tobirama couldn't help but be interested and in awe of him despite his pesky beliefs about the Uchiha. I believe he felt heavy guilt when he killed him.

TobiKaga in the way that Kagami was the only Uchiha ever to gain Tobirama's utmost trust. I want to know so badly how Kagami was able to obtain it. I believe Kagami was a very sunny-personality-type, who inherently understood where Tobirama was coming from and had unwavering respect for him. The beautiful "you are my exception" trope. I support the headcanon that Kagami got his Mangekyo after Tobirama left to be the decoy.

I do enjoy me some MadaTobi/TobiMada, after all they are very similar and they butt heads to it's always fun to read fics where they're stubborn in admitting they're attracted to each other.

nOTP

TobiMito, I just don't see it. Mito is Hashi's wife &...why would they be attracted to each other?

TobiSaku...I see so many Sakura-self-insert ships that make no sense and this is one of them.

Just bc I don't ship/understand doesn't mean I judge you if you like it tho, by all means ship what u ship

random headcanon

I have SO many

the lines on Tobi's face each represent a fallen loved one, and the last line for Hashi is on his forehead underneath the protector

he created the Reanimation Jutsu to bring Izuna back

He hadn't meant to kill Izuna, he believed he would counter his Flying Raijin slice and was shocked & horrified when it actually worked

That he is albino & autistic (I love these hcs)

unpopular opinion

I don't believe he is prejudice against the Uchiha, I believe his misgivings about them are so ingrained (from growing up as Butsuma's son, having to view them as enemies all his young life) in his mentality that he refuses to give them up because that would mean admitting he's wrong which he never does.

I believe he did his very best to make sure Konoha would be successful and strong (creating the ANBU, delegating roles to clans, etc.) and the fact that some backfired was not his fault. He's only a person and did the best he could with what he had.

song i associate with them

R.I.P 2 My Youth - The Neighbourhood

youtube

favorite picture of them

Pretty, pretty, and pretty.

Ask me here!

#ask game #tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama headcanons #tobiizu #tobikaga #hashitobi

66 notes · View notes

olympeline · 2 months

Text

I love some angsty, bitterly-unrequited-but-eventually-accepted-because-there’s-no-other-choice-love satelliting around my OTPs. It’s so cruel but so, so good (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Gimme Scotland still carrying a torch for sophisticated, sensual, sexy France hundreds of years after the Auld Alliance ends. Gimme modern day Portugal unable to forget and still longing for his days of swashbuckling alongside wanton, wild, wicked England

Gimme both of them watching first in confident disbelief, then in confused bewilderment, then in heart stung denial, then in anger and despair, as the respective objects of the affection shock the world by doing the unthinkable and falling for each other. Going from bitterest enemies, to heated rivals, to mutual grudging respect, to hesitant friends, to passionate lovers over the course of a few hundred years. Extra points if neither France or England ever truly understood just how bad Scot and Portugal had it for them. If they just saw it as something ordinary, not meant to last: fun, fleeting, and easily forgotten

Scotland loved France, Portugal loved England, both so much it hurt. But France and England’s eyes were always drawn away: across the Dover Strait to each other. No matter how Scotland and Portugal fought for their attention, tried to turn their gazes back to themselves, nothing worked. They couldn’t stand against the tide, swept away in true love’s wake. How to come to terms with the fact their best could never be good enough, simply by virtue of being themselves?

#hetalia #fruk #scotfra #porteng #hws england #hws france #hws scotland #hws portugal #aph england #aph france #aph scotland #aph portugal #my posts #i love the pain #the heartbreak overshadowed by love #mmmmm gimme 😍❤️❤️

21 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 3 months

Text

YOTP - February

For V-day, I'll give you the YOTP fic for February.

A reluctant OTP, but an OTP nevertheless...Please, have some Merestor x Glorfindel (with art from @sauroff)

Lots and lots, heaps and heaps, of love for y'all!

Pairing: Glorfindel x Erestor

Prompt: Valentine's Day, Pollen/Fear Gas/Truth Serum, Established Relationship/Long Distance, different, mermaid, "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

Words: 2 500

Warning: Sacrifice, implied monsterfucking, Merestor is a savage, nudity

(very sexy art and not very sexy fic under the cut!)

“We are sorry,” the councilman whispered as he stood, outlined by ominous darkness on Glorfindel’s threshold. “You have been chosen. We are hoping—”

“I understand,” Glorfindel replied before the old man could rattle off the perfidious reasons for their cruel decision to send one of their most valued warriors to his death. It made sense, he thought, the threat with which the town had been dealing for quite some time now was not one he or anyone else could fight with swords and arrows.

Thus, he had become superfluous—dead weight, really, and he recognised that much without fail.

“Today is a good day to die,” he added, deep sadness making his voice sound as hollow as if it was already coming from the grave. “I cannot bear the festivities anyway.”

“You must find it heartless—”

“Not at all,” Glorfindel interrupted again. “It’s strangely poetic, don’t you think? Give me an hour to put everything in order, tell the neighbours, and distribute what few riches are left to me, and then I shall be all yours.”

“Very well. I am sorry, please believe me,” the man who had known the condemned for many long years breathed softly.

“I know,” Glorfindel said soothingly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I am not loath to die. Especially not today!”

As he went through his meagre possessions, the golden-haired hero of another time smiled wistfully to himself.

Outside, maidens and young men were giggling breathlessly as they sang songs of love and hope and waved their elaborate bouquets through the fragrant night air—this was their day, the day of lovers, and Glorfindel felt ashamed of his visceral, asphyxiating resentment of their happiness.

Once upon a time, he had been much like them. Returning from a faraway war covered in glory and illustrious distinctions, he had managed to capture the heart and hand of a beautiful, smart, enchanting young man.

For a few blessed years, he and Erestor—for that had been his beloved’s name—had lived in peace and plenty. Every year, they’d light candles on this hallowed night and sit on the porch of their little dwelling to watch the procession of giddy youths, dancing through the street with elation.

Then, one day, Erestor had disappeared. Glorfindel had waited, searched, and despaired, but no trace of his darling had been found.

Looking back now, he realised that the “deep”—an ominous threat that had transformed the previously merry village into a ghost town of whispered conversations and furtive steps—had first made itself known around the same time.

Nobody knew exactly what it was and what it wanted, but it was generally understood that Erestor—Glorfindel’s very own husband—had been its first victim.

From that fateful spring on, cattle, people, and treasures vanished from the riverbanks and the edges of the underground lake that had always been a highly favoured bathing spot for the villagers. Fear fell like a shadow over the hamlet, stifling all life and laughter.

Soon, people avoided all running water, coming up with complex rituals of superstition and idiocy, but Glorfindel was too heartbroken still to even fear for his life; he wanted to know what had happened to his sweetheart.

At first, the elders had refused that he or anyone else should leave the safety of the village to seek out the mysterious creature that had been glimpsed by a few but never fully seen, and Glorfindel had reluctantly bowed to the pressure of public outrage.

Then, the sacrifices had started. Miscreants and rebels, bound and gagged, were left in the cave to feed and soothe the “deep”—and, to everybody’s horror and delight—they were gone by the time the guards came back in to check on them. As the mouth of the cavern was under perpetual surveillance, it was undeniable that it had to be the sea monster that had taken them.

A part of Glorfindel had always known that, sooner or later, he would be picked to be delivered to the pernicious pestilence haunting their home. His adamant refusal to wear the protective amulets or steer clear of the river had branded him an insurgent and a sceptic, and a community ruled by fear could and would not abide such disruptive, potentially dangerous faithlessness.

Thus, on the night of lovers, he was called upon to do what was necessary to keep a society from which he had almost entirely withdrawn safe. This would be his last act of heroism.

Glorfindel felt relieved and almost happy as he walked, flanked by the mayor and the councilman, down to the cave. Maybe, he thought, he’d be able to find out something about his lost lover; either way, he’d be freed of the torturous half-life he had been leading.

As he entered the cave, he was surprised and more than just a little touched to find countless candles burning in every nook and cranny.

The villagers had carved well-wishes into the melting wax or written down their prayers on little scraps of paper that were now buried under the slow-moving tide of pristine white, dripping off every wall.

“We have to…” the mayor looked up at Glorfindel with undisguised misery as he lifted the length of rope he had been kneading in his sweaty hands. “You can keep the clothes to prevent chafing.”

Chuckling wryly, Glorfindel shook his head slowly. He had promised his last possessions—the garments on his back and the bells in his hair—to the two brave men who stood by him as he set out for his last expedition.

“I hope that you’ll at least get a tankard of ale each for these,” he said as he laid the adornments he had cherished through many a hard year into their unworthy palms. “Now tie me up and leave. For all I’ve done for this village and for you, I think that I deserve the dignity of meeting my fate without having to worry about an audience.”

They complied readily, desperate to get away from the dark water lapping rhythmically against the sloping ground of the cave.

In their furious haste, they were less gentle with this season’s sacrifice than he’d have deserved, but Glorfindel was unfazed by the nails scraping heedlessly across his bare skin and the sharp bite of the rope into his tense flesh.

“Where…”

The councilman pointed at a few worn, discoloured pillows at the far end of the cavern, just a stone’s throw away from the frightening, liquid threat of the purling underground lake.

“Tasteful,” Glorfindel commented as he was heaved, pushed, and dragged to the designated spot. In his mind, images of his first successful attempts at seduction danced as if to taunt him.

He was no stranger to promiscuous poses and elaborate bondage, and—on this lonely night of lost love—he could truly appreciate the irony.

“I am ready,” he declared. “Withdraw and save your lives. Think of me fondly, and don’t let this ruin your evening. Go light a candle in my honour. Maybe, look the other way if you come across a particularly adventurous couple, I don’t know…”

He huffed—it annoyed him that he was still the one trying to comfort and calm the men who had condemned him to an undoubtedly horrid demise, but he couldn’t bear their sad, mournful gazes.

“I am not dead yet,” Glorfindel grunted when nobody moved. “Remember me like this—beautiful, alluring, and very much alive!”

Tensing and squirming against the irregular, badly tied knots, he averted his face which finally convinced his two hangmen to scamper away like the vermin they were.

“Let’s hope this monstrosity makes haste at the very least,” Glorfindel mumbled and leaned back against the smelly cushions as much as he could without cutting off his circulation.

Thankfully for the integrity and safety of his limbs, Glorfindel did not have to wait long until minute ripples on the hitherto perfectly placid surface of the lake heralded the imminent arrival of whatever lethal foe was lurking in the murky depths.

“Ah, a new one,” a voice resounded. To the intended victim’s utter astonishment, it sounded tired and impatient rather than gleefully wicked. “Why do they keep pawning their unwanted villagers off on me?”

Spellbound, Glorfindel twisted as much as his bonds allowed to see a shimmering, mesmerising creature cleave through the water.

“Eh, same as ever,” the aquatic being muttered and launched itself out of its watery habitat, twirling like a falling star and filling the stale, damp air with a fine powder that tasted sweet and cloying on Glorfindel’s tongue as he drew a deep breath. “What is it that you truly desire? Do not even try to lie to me—the spores you’ve just inhaled force you to tell the truth.”

“I want to know what happened to my love,” Glorfindel replied immediately, not even trying to struggle against the sudden heaviness pervading his limbs and befuddling his racing mind. “All I want is to find out where Erestor went.”

With a muted splash, the creature fell back into the arms of the inky lake until only a pair of brightly flashing eyes—as eerily familiar and yet entirely foreign as the accents of that enchanting voice—were visible.

Taking the monster’s silence as an invitation and unable to stem the tide of words that had been unleashed by the potent dust he had ingested, Glorfindel kept babbling about the one he had loved and lost, detailing Erestor’s indescribable beauty and admirable wit and sighing longingly.

“I know that you’ve taken him, and I’d beg you to reunite us!” he finally pleaded.

“You think that I have killed your lover,” the creature mused, its words setting off a flurry of bubbles, dancing over the glassy surface of the water. “And you’d be willing to meet that same fate?”

“Yes. Life itself is worth nothing if it’s to be devoid of all joy and love!”

“You have ever been such a soppy fool! I should have known that my sacrifice would come to nought due to your reckless stubbornness!”

Heaving itself from its fluid realm once more, the creature drew inexorably closer.

“Who made those knots? What a mess! Just look at your beautiful skin!” Razor-sharp claws sliced through the rope without hesitation, and Glorfindel sat up, rubbing the sore spots his writhing had left behind.

“Erestor?” he cried as he now fully faced the well-known and desperately missed frame of the one he had sought for endless months.

There was no doubt about it, that visage—gleaming like mother of pearl and gold in the flickering light of the white candles—was the very one he saw in those terrible nightmares that haunted his every moment of respite.

“How? Why? What has happened? How have you come hither? Have you been enslaved against your will? What can I do? I have missed you so much, you can’t imagine! Oh Erestor, my love! Or…did you leave me of your own accord? Was I not a good husband to you? You should have told me that you were unhappy—I would have done anything to alleviate your dissatisfaction—”

“If I kiss you, will you shut up?” Erestor interrupted, and—not waiting for an answer—pressed his cool, wet lips against Glorfindel’s burning mouth in a gentle caress that grew frantic and heated almost instantly.

“Why?” Glorfindel whispered against the fragrant skin for which he had yearned with every fibre of his being.

“Old enemies came for you—you were out, at the market if I recall correctly—and they spoke terrible threats…” Erestor explained sheepishly. “You were always too rash to heed the warning signs of the deeper, darker secrets of the world.”

“But—”

“I’ve offered myself. What else could I do? The town needed you more than they did me!”

“I needed you! To hell with the accursed village—they’ve left me here, bound and naked, to be eaten by some fearsome monstrosity!” Glorfindel cried passionately.

“So they did,” Erestor agreed, anger and regret turning his eyes into splintered onyx. “It seems that I’ve been mistaken in my assessment, a rarity as you well know. I did not expect you to waste your time bemoaning my loss.”

“How dare you?” Glorfindel roared. Not minding the sharp protrusions on Erestor’s fingers or the dangerously pointy teeth flashing in the semi-darkness, he grabbed his lost husband by the shoulders and shook him vehemently. “I have never stopped looking and waiting for you—loving you—and if that ass of a mayor had not been so laughably terrified, I would have found out the truth much sooner!”

“Do they really think I’ve killed all these people?” Erestor inquired, leaning against the comforting, dry warmth of Glorfindel’s chest.

When the golden-haired sacrificial offering of beauty and valour nodded, he tossed back his head and laughed heartily.

“Believe you me, I did no such thing. It is in my power to grant one wish to those who seek me out in exchange for something they treasure—and what idiotic things they were—and so, I’ve helped every single person you’ve thrown down here escape the prison of paranoia and worry into which you’ve seemingly turned our once peaceful village.”

Glorfindel stared until his eyes overflowed with hot tears, leaving warm streaks of salt and salvation on his sculptural, freckled cheeks.

“I am so happy to see you—have you been well?” he asked breathlessly. “You should not have offered yourself that without consulting me! Of all the things to lose, I’d rather lose a limb than you!”

“I can see that now,” Erestor admitted. “I am sorry for doubting your love and your strength—they were very persuasive, and they tapped into my secret insecurity that someone like me—cerebral, somewhat scrawny, and undeniably mean—could never keep the love of one so glorious, handsome, and popular as you. It was all so new, and they made me believe that you’d soon grow tired of me anyway…This sacrifice was meant to be my parting gift.”

“And you dare call me a fool?” Glorfindel rasped as he bundled his merman husband—long, iridescent tail and webbed hands—onto his bare lap fitfully. As soon as that smooth, cool skin collided with his own heated flesh, he felt his body and all its dormant desires and impulses flare back to life.

“My love,” Erestor said warningly as he felt the testament of Glorfindel’s enduring, evidently unconditional ardour press against his scaly rear, “this is hardly the moment. I still have one wish to grant you—choose wisely!”

“Do you enjoy this life?” Glorfindel asked seriously, cupping Erestor’s soft cheek and searching his petulant gaze for any signs of dishonesty.

“Yes,” Erestor admitted after a moment’s reflexion. “It is strange, certainly, but I like it well! You’d…you couldn’t understand…”

“Then my wish is to join you!” Glorfindel exclaimed. “It is my turn to offer my life for your happiness. Make me what you are!”

So, that was my contribution to the YOTP for February!

I hope you've enjoyed this! Lots of love!

-> Masterlist

#og post #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #YOTP #yotp 2023 prompts #Glorestor #Glorfindel #Erestor #February #Truth Serum #Long Distance #Established Relationship #Different #Mermaid #Vday #If I kiss you...

29 notes · View notes