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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Three Asks

It’s been a while since we answered some asks so today and maybe tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, we’ll collect some and answer them since we’ve gotten while a few in the last two or three weeks.

In today’s post I picked out the three most recent asks we’ve received, two of which are ones I’d usually just delete because answering is pointless but one of them showcased a popular pattern so we decided to reply just this once. So this time around the questions are about Namjoon and Seokjin, next time we’ll do ones about Tae and Jimin (and vmin), and so on.

Ask 1 - Did Namjoon have to bring up the criticism he received in 2015/16 in the Juju Chang interview?

Ask 2 and 3 - questions from either diet solos (someone who isn’t quite a solo stan just yet but exhibits the same thought patterns as solos do) or full on solo stans.

From anon: So you must have seen their interview alongside the President right on a news show? Most of it was fine and I liked how involved they were especially JK, but a point Namjoon made is what I'm kinda dicey about. He addressed that they were called out for WoH lyrics but the thing is I'm not sure if it needed to be brought up. Especially in American media and the way they contextualize things..

Obviously he meant that they grew from it but not sure if that was the way to put it I guess?

I will admit, there aren’t many times when asks that get sent to us annoy me, but this one in conjunction with the absolute nonsense that took place about this on twt just made my blood boil. Let’s look at the question and answer so we have full context when it comes to the interview and then, after that, we’ll look at the greater context of why Namjoon saying what he did is significant and a big deal.

Juju Chang: You guys are an all male band and, let’s face it, Korea, historically, has been a very male dominated culture and yet here at the UN one of the core values in Sustainable Development is educating women and having gender equality. You have a lot of female fans. What would you say to them about gender equality and working towards that?

Namjoon: Personally, I received a lot fo criticism regarding misogyny in 2015 and 2016, which led me to get my lyrics reviewed by a women’s studies professor. That experience, in turn, was an opportunity for me to self-reflect and question whether I’d been insensitive toward gender equality. I want to do the best I can to take interest in the topic, learn and make improvements. That’s my perspective now.

Namjoon used a personal story as framework to showcase that even someone like him, a man in a position of power/influence from a country which, as the interviewer explained, is very male dominated can learn, grow and, in the long run, contribute to change. It takes tremendous bravery to do something like this, to not only admit that you made such a mistake, but also to take it and grow from it, take the time to reflect and strive to better yourself to never repeat it again. And also talk about doing so not only during an international broadcast but also while your own president sits right there next to you.

Perhaps there are a relatively big number of countries in the west where equality is much closer to being a reality, where it is a core value to respect woman, one that you are raised with, but here the context was specifically BTS and their background, their country and their culture. From K-ARMY we know that things have taken a turn for the worse in Korea when it comes to women’s rights and the behavior of men toward them, how feminism is treated essentially as a dirty word and you will get hunted down for using it or for behaving in a feminist manner. Namjoon himself was placed on some list made by misogynists labeling him as a dirty, dirty feminist. The same men who even went after the military to get them to stop using a hand gesture which could, if you really want to, be used to make fun of a man for a small d*ck. In polls men in their 20s and 30s have voted being against feminism and I don’t mean just like 10 or 20% of voters, but rather 50-70%, even some presidential candidates have apparently been revealed as anti-feminists.

Circling back to Namjoon, having this context, do you now get why it was a big thing for him to say this, why it makes him a role model and why it was important to do so? Besides this isn’t just about the WoH lyrics which, to be frank, were never an actual issue but instead were made into one (the line I know that usually get’s brought up most is “The girls are equations, and us guys are solutions” which, if you think about it, actually means that boys and girls are equal since 2+5=7, the equation and the solution are the same, and also the song is satire about hormonal boys and their behavior which people have decided to ignore for the sake of sitting on their high horses instead). Namjoon wasn’t even the only member credited for the lyrics yet he took the blame upon himself, used this to better himself even though we know 2015 was an extremely dark time for him. But he is the leader, he took responsibility and he grew from it. He stands as example of how change is possible even in a country that is male dominated and misogynistic.

From anon: Reading your post about My universe I can’t but be heavy hearted.

It’s such a beautiful song but Jin not having almost any lines ruined the experience for me. He deserves so much more than being a mere backup vocal. Same goes to Jimin but I’m not as effected as Jin, since we’ve all seen a pattern there.

We know the boys decide collectively decide LD and how it fits their personalities and voices but I can’t but feel icky about Dynamite, not today, BS&T and now MY.

I truly hope this doesn’t continue and BH decides to respect Jin more as an artist. He’s one of the biggest reasons the group is where it is now.

Though I can’t say with 100% certainty that this comes from someone that has consumed too much solo stan “content”, it does very much feel like it and the only reason why I’m even answering this is that I’d like to highlight something, a pattern we've seen a million times over for years now in regard to line distribution but that is even more glaring and flawed in this case, after we’ve seen how My Universe was recorded:

“We know the boys collectively decide” and yet “and BH decides to respect Jin more”, with this you’re basically saying that you know all the members, including Seokjin, are involved BUT since giving him and the others slack for it would make you look bad, you instead throw blame at BH, which in this case had no say in the line distribution. That choice was Christ Martin’s to make. If you already complain about line distribution, at least have the guts to direct your hate at the people you just said yourself make the choice--the members. Solos already belittle Seokjin’s efforts as it is, and constantly demand an acting debut of him which basically, to me, just comes across as them wanting him to act because they don’t value his singing and music, so would it be really that farfetched for them to also hate on him for, what, not speaking up and demanding more to satisfy you?

Seokjin was so happy and excited while recording My Universe, while meeting Chris Martin, someone he’s admired and been a fan of for so long. He gave his best while recording and sounded absolutely marvelously, and yet instead of celebrating him, his voice, and what we do hear of him, you just focus on the negatives.

BH isn’t perfect by any means, don’t even try to come into our asks calling me a company stan or whatever because I’m far from it, but in this case they had nothing to do with it. Coldplay and Chris Martin did. We saw all the members record the chorus, and we heard it, we saw and heard Seokjin sing absolutely beautifully and get praise for it, and we saw how happy this collab has made him. Why can’t you just let this be a happy time, why must you immediately search for things to be negative about?

Would I have liked so hear more of his voice on My Universe? Obviously, I even said as much in my post about the song. I love Seokjin and his voice a lot, he is my bias wrecker for a reason. But the song has already happened, been recorded, mastered, and released. What will a negativity parade change? What? Absolutely nothing except for make him feel bad because you can’t just say “Seokjin did amazingly, I love his voice”, no, you have to go around yelling “OMG he is being cut from the song because BH hates him”. What does that do for him? Like really, tell me, because I don’t get it.

And if my opinion isn’t valid enough for you, it is, after all, just an opinion, take Seokjin’s opinion about the collab instead:

Or asks such as this one:

From anon: I honestly can’t wait for Seokjin to go solo one day. Go where he’s appreciated for his talents and musicality, not cuz he’s just a “hyung” or “comic relief” or “WWH”.

Where, tell me, has he ever expressed an interest in going solo? No, I’m serious, where, because all I know is that he is happy with his members, with what he does, that he enjoys making music and getting more involved than he used to. Just the other day during the interview with Juju Chang he spoke about how he misses the old times where he could go for soju and food with Yoongi to spend some time together.

And just a few years before that Yoongi said that Seokjin has been good from the beginning, and there are tons of other examples of the members praising Seokjin in terms of his voice and musicality. When he was going through burnout last year, Bang PD encouraged him to channel his thoughts and feelings into music, recommended him a producer he thought work well with him, and Seokjin said it really did help him. And we got Abyss as result from it all, a gorgeous and raw song.

Yes, he gets praise for being a good hyung, because guess what, he is a good hyung. Maybe for you that’s not good enough, but he’s proud of it, has always taken the fact that he’s the eldest seriously even when goofing around with his members. How is that a bad thing?

Seokjin loves his members and they love him. Seokjin loves ARMY and we love him back tenfold. Just because solos hate the members and aren’t satisfied with Seokjin, how is that my issue or even his? If you’re a genuine fan of his, support his hard work, support all his contributions to BTS’ music, their performances, their dancing, and everything else. Because he is part of BTS regardless if you like it or not, and as far as we are aware, he doesn’t plan on changing that any time soon, or at all.

#answered ask #namjoon #seokjin

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

��Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #murphy mcnully #skye parkin #bill weasley #charlie weasley #percy weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ron weasley #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #katriona cassiopeia #charles cromwell #jacob cromwell #my art #my writing #GAAAAHHHH BILLLL #I LOVE YOU SO FRIGGIN' MUCH MY PRECIOUS BOY ;~;#you go be a good big brother and best friend for carewyn you wonderful thing #also ooh hoo hoo~ orion you can claim you're not crushing but you aren't fooling anybody hahahaha #you'll figure out what you're feeling soon enough >D #we're learn more about how magic works in this universe as time goes on of course #but yeah rest assured there's still a lot to unravel in regards to what happened to jacob... >>#and of course this part is another reminder that charles cromwell is a no-good son of a b****

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riseofnightwing · 4 years

Text

Days Gone; Dick Grayson| Ch2

summary: After Dick’s death, you faced the worst feeling during months: Grief. Day by day the pain grew inside your life and you had no expectations of being able to pass through that until someone appeared again bringing all of this down but still, a lot of things changed and even though you looked for answers, the turnaround that life brought you was gently welcomed.

pairing: Dick Grayson x y/n

warnings: angst.

prologue

previous chapter

wanna be tagged?

Living without Dick during these months has been the closest I got to hell itself. September, October, November, December and the last image of him saying goodbye still makes me wonder if it’s true the saying that god doesn’t give us more than we can take, because honestly, I’m not sure if I can take this any longer.

I don’t know how much of myself have died in this time, but I surely can say that a little bit dies everyday, I get alright when the guys are around, Rachel, Jason, Donna, they tried to fix me and I feel a little less broken until I’m alone and lately..that’s all the time.

People often say that when someone dies, their image will fade away, bit by bit, from your mind, but it’s clearly an utterly lie, because Dick’s face only gets more and more real in my head, his voice and the gap in my heart everyday when I wake up and his side on the bed is still empty, yes..it is so cruelly real to me.

It was still morning, around 8 AM, when I got up. I took a shower and left to the closest coffee shop. I needed these caffeine doses to start my day, San Francisco was amazingly cold these days and coffee was more than necessary.

Rachel loves it here, she was still asleep when I left and I couldn’t wake her up since she trained a lot yesterday, so I came alone.

I ordered my doppio coffee and waited to receive it in the next county.

“Y/n Grayson” the clerk called my name pointing that my order was ready. I’ve been using Dick’s nickname ever since we got married when we were younger, but hearing it would always remind me of him first. Because I always loved calling him like this when I was mad, or just pretending to be, I smiled to myself hearing my own thoughts. I was going to take a sip of my drink when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I instantly turned around to see who it was.

And for a minute, I wished I could have turned around slowly, because the image I saw in front of me made me dizzy, almost like I would fall on the ground. My hands shaked and the grip on the cup of coffee got loose.

I only realized that it hit the ground when the person in front of me looked down and so did I, following his look.

He had shaved hair and a scar on the side of his head which looked like a wing. And a look..this look that I would never forget, the same tiny and tight brown eyes that he had. I could only be crazy, maybe I’m seeing things, because this man looks exactly like.. Dick.

He looked at me again, locking our looks and my legs trembled again.

“Dick is dead Y/n, I’m sorry”

“He got shot in the head, Y/n. I’m truly sorry. He’s gone”

Bruce’s voice telling me he had died echoed in my head..it couldn’t be him, Dick died.

“Y/n—” the man spoke and hearing his voice was excruciating. Why does it sound exactly like my husband’s voice? “It’s me, Richard.”

No. Absolutely no. No fucking way.

“How's it even possible?” I spoke, almost inaudibly, shaking my head slowly, in disbelief.

“Can we talk?” he tried to reach my hand and in instinct I moved it away from him but maybe touching him was the only way to find out it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, so I did. I touched his hand and he was there, physically, in person, not less than that and for my relief: I wasn't crazy.

My other hand covered my mouth and a lonely tear streamed down on my cheek, what was going on? I asked myself.

“Can we please talk? I— I need to talk to you.” he asked again and I nodded, still scared.

“Not here, please— I can’t” I snapped. I couldn’t do this here. He nodded.

“I have a place, can we?”

“Yes.” I said quickly, I needed to get out of there, I wasn’t ready for this.

Dick took us to a loft. It wasn’t far from where we were and took us almost 5 minutes to get here, it seemed so new, like he had just got here.

We got in the place in silence, no words were spoken since we left the coffee shop and I was still trying to breath and digest everything.

I entered what seemed to be the living room and he was right behind me.

“Y/n—” he said and I stopped. His voice calling me broke me in uncountable pieces, what did life expect from me?

I turned around to face him and the tears took my vision again.

“Richard.” I said his name.

“I’m here— I'm here, Y/n” he said and came closer. Dick took me into his arms and I cried my heart out.

He was back.

I don’t know how many minutes I spent like this, crying on his chest, but he kept his chin on the top of my head.

“Look at me—” Dick asked “Please.”

I lifted my head and looked at him. He wiped my tears with his fingers.

“I’m afraid I’m truly crazy and hallucinating and—” I said.

“I’m not a hallucination, Y/n. You touched me, I’m real.” Dick said firmly but still soft, looking into my watered eyes.

“It’s too much for me to understand.”

“Well, I’m not capable of explaining you a lot now, except for the things I remember, but I’ll try my best to make you understand, I promise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s sit here.” He led me to sit on the sofa in front of a fireplace, which made the place warmer.

I stood there looking at him, waiting to hear what he had to say, anxiously looking for an answer.

He half smiled looking at me, in his usual position, resting his elbows on his thigh, crossing hands.

“What’s so funny, Grayson?”

“I thought that through all these months you’d have forgotten me.”

“Are you kidding me—You can only be kidding me.” I told him in disbelief

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding. But the truth is..I don’t remember everything, to be honest, I don’t remember anything..But you.”

He looked at me and I couldn’t say anything, confusion took my look, I was perplexed, he didn’t remember anything.

“What happened in the night you died?”

“I didn’t..they told me I got shot in an attempt to kill commissioner Gordon, the bullet that hit me was actually trying to hit him. They told me I lost a lot of brain tissue and my memory was compromised. So now I can’t remember anything and the only thing that’s alive enough in my mind for me to remember, it’s you.” He looked down.

“Oh my god, Dick..”

“They call me Ric, Y/n..” they? Ric? what the hell.

“They?” I asked

“The people who were treating me. The ones I ran off, my doctor..she was from the Court of Owls, she was trying to keep me there and my memory only got worse so I needed to leave,I— I couldn’t forget the only thing that remained.”

“This is too much. I can’t imagine how you could deal with all of this.”

“I couldn’t, I am not dealing, I’m running, I’m struggling because I can’t face it. But finding you is a sight of hope.” he said

I got closer to Dick, Ric, It didn’t matter because my Richard was back. I hugged him and I couldn’t contain my emotion. He hugged me back, even stronger.

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through this all alone, It must have been terrifying.” I told him with one of my hands on his cheek.

“Would you believe if I told you that it feels a little better now?”

“Maybe, yeah” I smiled at him and he opened his bright smile. God, how I missed this, how missed him. “

“Sorry if I went into shock when I found out that you didn't die. I deserve some credit— You should be grateful that I didn't scream or run” I completed.

Dick smiled. All the sensations that Dick used to cause me were still there, perhaps even more intense. The chill in the belly didn't seem to want to go away.

“Stop smiling, it's not funny at all” That's what I said, he nodded and broke the smile, but the damn gleam in his eyes didn't go away.

“Forgive me” Dick said, his intense, emotion-filled tone immediately caught my attention. His gaze held mine, in that familiar way of seeing the depths of his soul. Pure and intense. Sincere and...Passionate.

I did not dare to interrupt him. Silently, I gave him the authorization to continue.

“If I could have done everything differently, I would have found you before, just so I wouldn't see you suffer that way. It breaks my heart to see you like this and— to know that I am responsible. You are the last person in the world I would hurt, you know that. I would trade places with you without a second thought, if it were humanly possible.”

I pressed my lips together in a thin line and held a stubborn tear that wanted to escape from the corner of my eyes.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Richard, you got shot, you lost your memory and gratefully you still remember me.”

“Maybe now you see that all the times I told you you were unforgettable it was true.”

I smiled and looked down slightly shy.

“So cheesy, Grayson.”

“I didn’t come sooner because they were watching you.”

“They who?”

“The court of owls”

“What— Why would they?” I was completely unable to understand this situation.

“That’s what I was trying to figure out before I left the clinic.” he sighed “Especially why they stopped watching you for three days. That's why I approached. I couldn't miss a chance. I've been trying to communicate with you for the past few months, but they just didn't give up. And I couldn't put you in risk, even if I had no idea what they wanted with you.”

I smiled at the end of his sentence.

“You have the incredible power of thinking about me even in the worst scenarios.”

“Yeah, that’s your fault.”

“What?” I pretended to be mad

“You heard me, that’s your fault that I can’t stop this, this unending feeling that no matter what’s going on, protecting you with my life will always be my duty. Your fault that I love you like this. Deal with this.” He had a sassy smile on his face and his sincerity made me melt.

I felt Dick's hands gently take my face, so I surrendered to the moment, because there was no reason not to.

I let my touch feel his lips touching mine, and thanked the heavens for having another chance to kiss him. Because my flawed and ridiculous memory had almost forgotten how splendid it was to be in his arms, having his lips molded to mine, caressing every possible inch of her mouth.

I had forgotten how wonderful it was to have Dick's strong hands caressing my cheeks, then reaching down to my neck and plunging into my hair, pulling it with the strength necessary to dictate the rhythm of the kiss and transform my desire into the purest essence of lust.

I had forgotten the intoxicating sensation that it was to have Dick so close, that his perfume tame my nostrils, that his rigid and strong body made me feel protected from whatever harm the world might cause me.

Because with Dick everything was complete.

With Dick everything was just fine.

#dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson x y/n #batman imagines

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nalufever · 4 years

Note

do you have any more nalu fic recs?

Sorry, not sorry - you’ve unleashed more than you could’ve guessed. ^^ Always happy to Recommend a List of Fics ~ And thank you for asking! Admittedly there’s a few Recs that aren’t Nalu - I got excited to share my favs. ;)

A Girl Worth Fighting For: Natsu navigates unspeakable horrors to win Lucy’s love or Natsu goes shopping, looking for the perfect white day gift.

A Lesson: Natsu and Lucy can’t keep themselves from expressing their passions - and the results are bed breaking. Short but smutty - smexy in fact. ;P

A Solidly Constructed Kiss: Erza strong-arms Lucy and Natsu into working the Kissing Booth to raise funds for a school trip. Lucy’s never been kissed and Natsu acts like he’s never entertained even the idea of kissing another person. Things naturally come to a head when Lucy and Natsu are given the task to build the actual booth; will they fight over construction or build themselves some kind of relationship?

Fairy Tail Week: A collection of drabbles from tumblr prompts to celebrate Fairy Tail. Fairy, Ladies, Lads, Magic, Guild, Ultimate Team, Stronger, Mashima, Tail. Only rated teen to err on the side of caution, family friendly content featuring most of the Fairy Tail Guild!

Feathers and Scales: Angel/Demon AU. Devils are more than they seem and Angels no less. Pitted against each other in a never-ending battle for souls, a single Angel and Devil trade mercies and fall in love. Warning: major character death(s).

Full Moon Secret: Natsu had wanted to tell Lucy his secrets, to share his family history with the fey…it had just never been the right time. Tonight the truth was going to be revealed, one way or another.

Okay, I could just keep hyping all of my own fics individually - but I won’t - other than to just put in a link to ALL OF THEM. ;) Fair warning, I have a few other fandoms works in all the Fairy Tail stories - from Brooklyn 99 to The Flash, Snow White with the Red Hair, RWBY, Blue Exorcist, Teen Titans and some Hakuouki. Yes, I’m a shameless self-promoter. Speaking of that - one more I need to rec! Natsu’s Stars in Lucy’s Sky. I swear Imma finish this.

I also have more than a few favourite authors who write for Fairy Tail (and other fandoms) ~ some have not contributed lately to Fairy Tail or chosen to concentrate on other fandoms - but I like them and their excellent writing.

ObsessedwithNalu: One of my first fandom friends and pretty much any of her FT stories is gold. @obsessedwithnalu

Christmas Treats: Admittedly a gift to me and very cherished for that fact - and - it’s frigging awesome. Lucy does a little holiday baking at home before Fairy Tail’s Christmas party. Natsu, as always, is there. One thing leads to another…

Thanks, Krov: When Krov decided to relax at his favorite bar after work, he never imagined that he’d be seeing some of his old guild members, especially since he thought they had died long ago. Nalu fluff.

Edo-Nalu love fest: Submissions for the Nalu love fest week of 2014. But instead of regular Nalu, these ones feature Edo-Nalu. Smut-tastic and delightfully mature.

ImpracticalDemon: Another early fandom friend who’s still writing this, that and the other thing - and she’s just GREAT. Again, a link to all her works and a few that are special to me follow. XOXOX @impracticaldemon

May the Best Man Survive: “Gray would never have in a million years thought he’d host Natsu’s bachelor party (Nalu pairing). Why is it his job to herd the bunch of rowdy mages from bar to bar, ending up at the guild where the real surprise party is? Oh yeah, the idiot had asked him to be the best man at his wedding. Hijinks, chaos and hilarity ensue.” ^^ A prompt supplied by me and I’m smirking so wide because the fic Imp came up with delivered more awesomeness than I could have hoped for!

A Star At His Side: “Accidentally Fall Asleep Together” for Endragoneel on tumblr. Natsu and Lucy spend the day together at a festival in Magnolia. Natsu ends up watching more than just the stars when the festival is over…

Christmas Gifts: When Erza walks Wendy home from the Guild’s Christmas Party, Wendy realizes how alone her friend and mentor is feeling. She sets out to recruit Lucy, Natsu and the rest to break Jellal out of prison for just one night, as a Christmas gift for Erza. Meanwhile, Natsu has accidentally burned some of Lucy’s writing. Will she forgive him?

Dark Shining Light: One of the best and most welcoming writers I have ever interacted with! I’m still gobsmacked she’s a friend! She’s a legend and I don’t know what else I could add to any discourse about her writing - but the classics are classic for a reason, yeah? Here’s a few of my personal favourites of her works and just know there’s too many to list them all! AKA @ff-darkshininglight

Mischievous Cat: Let’s just say there have been a few incidents where Happy has come in at a bad time.

What Belongs to a Demon: Everyone knew she belonged to the great demon lord and she would prove that she deserved to stand by his side.

The Truth Revealing Cards: Lucy should have known if there was a card that would reveal her secrets, Natsu would want it.

Eliz1369: Got introduced to her for her Hakuoki fics but she’d dipped her toes into FT as well ~ and this is a great fic. ^^ @eliz1369

The Light of Fairy Tail: The members of Fairy Tail may be their own brand of crazy, but their hearts are always in the right place.

rougescribe: Shame on me for not reading more of this author’s works! @rougescribe

Fire Sprite No 5: For him, Heaven wasn’t a place or a single moment in time. It was a feeling built on memories upon memories, past and present and a hope for future ones all tied down together. All sharing one common denominator: Her. Nalu. Tumblr Valentine’s Event.

Fallen Ark Angel: Admittedly I only have interacted from afar with this writer. I mainly read Nalu fics but I love her take on Mira and Laxus and her next gen offspring characters. She’s got a lot to offer and it’s all superb. @fallen029

Loving Satan: Loving Satan is never easy. But when she loves you back, its twice as bad.

Madartiste: Another one-sided love affair with someone else’s writing. And her stories are all wonderful and prolly appear on hundreds of Fic Rec Lists - but here’s one of my Favs! @madartiste

Hoarding: Getting interrupted gets old fast.

UranoMetria: I added her to my stable of fav authors 05-03-2014. Wow. Eons ago and even if I’m not sure she’s still active in the fandom, I salute her. Kudos.

The Goddess Gate: With six years of partnership, Natsu and Lucy are torn apart by a mysterious visit from a secret magic council. Lucy is kidnapped and her memories suppressed. She fights her way back home to regain her life - with a startling secret revealed as she begins to remember. The lives of all Earthland hang in the balance. **Okay, this is a wicked old fic - but amazingly written and fuelled my own desires for writing. Last updated in 2018 but who knows? Some current attention may slay any demons on her back in regards to writing - and even if not - the hours of enjoyment reading this is worth giving a comment just to say, ‘thank you for writing.‘

Wild Rhov: Do I even need to say anything about this author? Famous, famous, famous. Excellent. Writes a lot of pairings and fleshes every relationship into something REAL. I Can’t Even. @wildrhov

Beastly Possession: Something is murdering people in Magnolia. When Lucy is attacked, Natsu goes on a rampage to find the culprit, and everyone in Fairy Tail wants revenge. But could this bloodthirsty attacker be someone they know? Warning: High octane nightmare fuel! Do not read while eating, and beware of red eyes in the dark!

Shell1331: Introduced via Imp. This writer is in a few fandoms and is worth reading. @shell-senji

Juicy: Impulsivity and poorly chosen words get Natsu into more trouble than he’d expected, which is saying something for him.

AbsentAngel: Everyone should know this writer. Been stalking her since 2014 so that says something. Tho, it’s prolly just that I’m creepy. ;) My suggested fic here is being re-written/has been? into something original and worth being purchased when it becomes available and re-read over and over. No, I am not being paid to shill but I am open to having senpai notice me. @absent-angel

To the Flame: She stares, transfixed, as the blood runs down his fingers and begins to pool in his palm. He holds his hand up to her lips in offering, and she tears her eyes away from the blood to study his face. He is smiling softly. “Go on Luce, I didn’t cut them for nothing.” [Vamp AU]

HawkofNavarre: Loved for awesome and delightful Gruvia content. Looks like there’s a tumblr but I can’t manage to link it. :(

You Stole the Rain: He just wanted to be friends; fine, she just needed to change his mind. Gray x Juvia

Ricardian Scholar Clark-Weasley: Not sure I spelled that right even after checking three times! I usually short hand that to RS-CW in my head. And she’s prolific - has a tonne of fandoms and is a tower of talent. Is anyone reading all my fangirl gushing? 'Cause she follows one of my fics and comments (sorry I haven’t updated that fic in a while) and it’s a source of happiness that someone who writes so well happens to enjoy some of my content. Okay, bragging over - back to the Recs!

Tales of Fairies: A collection of oneshots exploring different friendships, ideas, sad themes, comical scenarios, and lots and lots of pairings…but mainly Nalu.

snogfairy: Another giant in the FT fandom. Impressive talent. @lineffability

naughty nalus: smutty nalu oneshots B) ***Mature content!***

Rivendell101: Another giant in FT and other fandoms. This author would be considered required reading if I ran a fandom course in a University setting. Just sayin’ @rivendell101

Crave: /krāv/ Verb. To feel a powerful desire for (something). They crave each other. And satiation doesn’t come easily. He growls against her again. “Beg for it,” he demands, lips ghosting against her.

Lakerae aka @hidetheremote : Did you think I’d forgotten you? Ha! Gotcha good! You’re an inspiration to me because you’re working so hard to publish your children’s books. Kudos to you li'l sis! You’re busy but still make it a point to talk to me and I love you for that and everything.

The Gift of the Magi: A Gajevy Twist: A retelling of the classic Christmas story “The Gift of the Magi,” with your favorite Fairy Tail couple Gajeel and Levy! It’s Christmas time and Gajeel and Levy exchange gifts. They both are surprised what they receive and learn a lesson of the true meaning of Christmas.

I could add more and more as I search my saved favs on FF.net ~ and I’m sorry to not include all of them - but this is crazy long as it is. If you read and like any of the recommended fics, please be sure to let the author know. To the authors of these and all fanfics, Thanks for everything.

#fic list #rec fic list #fan fics galore #mainly Nalu rec'd fics #sorry not sorry #asks #answered #more than poor anon bargained for

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madamebaggio · 4 years

Photo

Notes: Previously...

Hello, everyone!

I did say I was working on my Jonsa, but I hit a snag there, so I tried writing in other places and this is the one that came out first.

I've been out for a while -between writer's block and other things -so not everything went as planned. I had said -on AO3- this chapter would get a bit hotter, but in the end it didn't feel appropriate and it was already getting really long.

But next chapter is the one! We'll have more insight about Willas and Oberyn and Sansa will start to rediscover her sexuality ;)

****

Chapter 3

Sansa ended up in Willas' apartment. Oberyn insisted she just had to go there after dinner to try this Dornish wine.

Willas had just sighed at his friend’s antics, but assured Sansa it’d be lovely to have her over.

It was a bit out of character for her to do something like that; she barely knew Oberyn well enough, and Willas… She’d had few real conversations with him. Normally they made polite small talk at parties. Those few conversations were, however, more than enough to make her heart beat faster every time she saw him.

All the Tyrells were good-looking, but Willas… Maybe he was just the one that really called to her, but Sansa could think of few men more handsome than him. And it wasn’t only his sharp eyes and perfect facial lines; he also dressed so well. His suits were all taylor made and even the canes he used were stylish.

He was intelligent and kind. He wasn’t one for silly smiles or flattery. Marge had always said he was the serious one of the family, downright grumpy. Perhaps he wasn’t as effortlessly charming as Marge and Lora were, but he wasn’t an ogre. Sansa had even seen him smiling once or twice -generally at Marge and Oberyn.

She’d chosen to not make her interest known. She felt like a silly girl around him, and imagined he thought the same. Willas was always polite to her, and that was it.

But it’d been a while -a long while -since any men had treated her the way those two had during dinner. Oberyn flirted like there was no tomorrow and Willas asked her questions and actually listened to her answers. That much attention was intoxicating, and she saw herself following both men back to Willas’ apartment.

The wine was as wonderful as Oberyn had promised. Between the three of them, the bottle was quickly finished and a second one was opened. In the middle of it, Oberyn pulled Sansa up and danced with her in the middle of the room. She’d kicked off her shoes earlier on, and the carpet felt amazing under her bare feet. Willas watched them from the couch, an amused grin on his lips.

She didn’t remember what happened after that.

Therefore, waking up in a strange room was a little bit concerning.

Sansa looked around the room: it was clearly a guest bedroom, since it lacked any personal touch. The walls had delicate wallpaper, and the bedspread was light green. The bed was quite big and Sansa was happy to notice she had obviously slept alone in it.

She was also wearing a pajama set clearly made for a man.

What the hell had happened?

She looked around again and saw her dress from the night before left on the floor by her shoes. She got up from the bed, wincing at the headache she had and opened the door quietly. She heard male voices talking instinctively. She’d slept at Willas’.

Oh Seven. Please, she hoped she hadn’t embarrassed herself too much in front of them. Again.

Sansa went to the bathroom where she found a hairbrush and some leftover beauty products. She cleaned off her old makeup and brushed her hair. As it was now, her hair was an unsaveable mess, so she braided it. There were also brand new toothbrushes on the cabinet under the sink, so she brushed her teeth.

Finally, feeling as ready as she’d ever was going to be for this situation, she left the room. Willas and Oberyn were in the dining room.

“There she is!” Oberyn grinned upon seeing her. “Just in time for breakfast.” He got up and pulled a chair for her.

“Good morning.” Sansa said to both men, a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Lady Sansa.” Oberyn winked at her, then pushed her chair in.

“Good morning.” Willas offered with a smile, but Sansa could see it was a bit forced. Then she noticed the wheelchair. Sansa remembered Margaery saying that Willas only used the chair when the pain on his leg was particularly bad. He did look tired and a bit pale.

Suddenly, she felt like a terrible intruder. “I…”

“I was about to wake you up for breakfast.” Oberyn cut her. “Willas wanted to let you sleep longer, but I strongly believed you wouldn’t want to miss out on my pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Sansa perked up.

“With a Dornish touch.” He told her as he passed her a plate, then took his place again.

Sansa cleared her throat. “How did I end up sleeping here?”

“You had too much wine and we didn’t want to put you alone in a taxi.” Oberyn told her as Willas remained quiet.

“Oh.” That made sense. “And the pajamas?”

“They’re mine.” Willas spoke up. “You didn’t want to sleep in your dress.”

“And you look quite fetching in them.” Oberyn teased.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet.” Sansa turned to Willas, remembering the manners her mother had always insisted upon. “Thank you for letting me use your guest bedroom.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Where did you sleep?” She asked Oberyn.

“Spooning Willas.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Oberyn.” Willas frowned.

“Fine. He spooned me.” He whispered to Sansa, making her giggle. “The sad truth was that he wouldn’t let me share the bed with you, so I had to share it with him.”

“Was that an option?” She asked amused.

“You offered to share.” Oberyn told her. “You said you wouldn’t mind because I smelled good.”

Sansa’s jaw almost hit the table. She turned so fast to Willas she almost had whiplash. “I did?”

There was a tiny grin on the corner of the eldest Tyrell. “You did.”

“And I might be a decent enough man, I am no saint.” Oberyn carried on. “It’d be way too much temptation. Not that you aren’t, Willas my friend, but I gave up on you years ago.” Oberyn patted Willas’ hand.

Willas rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I live knowing that?” He asked dryly.

“Well, thank you for protecting my honor. However unnecessary that was.” Sansa told Oberyn.

“That isn’t to say that I wouldn’t bed you given the chance, love, but you were way too drunk yesterday.”

“Is this really necessary?” Willas snapped.

Sansa, however, seemed surprised by the notion. “You would?”

Oberyn frowned at her. “You have to know how attractive you are.”

“Objectively speaking?” She asked.

Oberyn put his fork down. “I know we said we wouldn’t discuss this further, but we need to.” He declared.

“Oberyn.” Willas’ voice was full of warning.

Oberyn ignored him -as usual. “Sansa, darling. We heard your conversation with Margaery. That wasn’t right of us, of course, and we know and understand you’re embarrassed by that. But I can’t let you go on thinking there’s something wrong with you.”

“Ok…” Sansa nodded carefully.

“You’re a beautiful, charming and intelligent young woman. From what I’ve heard, it’s hardly your fault you had bad experiences before. And, at any rate, you can use them as a learning opportunity, not as an excuse to give up.” Oberyn pressed.

“It isn’t an excuse!” Sansa protested.

“You’re scared and that’s fine. You can be scared.” Oberyn continued. “But don’t let these moments rob you from the chance of really connecting to someone.”

Sansa got quiet, staring down at her plate.

“This sounds so self-serving when you just said you wouldn’t mind bedding her, Oberyn.” Willas glared at his friend, clearly unhappy.

Oberyn nodded. “You’re right.” He conceded, then turned to Sansa. “I am sorry, Sansa. I have no right to push you like this.”

“It’s okay.” She said softly. Her eyes met Willas’. “You agree with him, don’t you? You think I’m using those things as an excuse.”

“No.” Willas told her easily. “I think you’re young and you already went through a lot. As much as I’d like to forget what I heard, if only because I know how uncomfortable it makes you, I remember what you said. The men in your life were all rats, and you deserve much better. If you need time, take it. Just don’t give up, okay? One day, you’ll find someone and you’ll be thankful you didn’t give up.”

Although there was a part of her heart that felt warmer because of his words, they mostly broke her down a bit. Willas was amazingly kind… And he did see her as a little girl.

He’d never look at her as a woman.

#madame baggio #crackship #gifs not mine #fanfiction #posted on AO3 #modern au #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #willas tyrell #Oberyn Martell #future Sansa x Willas x Oberyn #my delirium

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kindness-ricochets · 4 years

Text

SoC Hospital AU

First & most important, thank you to a friend for sensitivity reading this (not putting a name because I don’t have permission to do that, but you know who you are <3). Even so: I am a cis writer including a trans character, so if there’s anything wrong or inappropriate in the fic, please tell me. It is never my intent to cause anyone offense.

TW: misgendering (some out of ignorance, some less so), allusions to suicide attempts

This place was too cold. Jesper lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. The crocheted blanket didn’t really keep him warm. As he tried not to die of boredom, he slid his fingers into the gaps and out, wriggled them all the way through and—

Crap.

He looked at the blanket. How had his knuckles made it through the weave only to get stuck?! Jesper tugged at it, but ultimately needed his other hand. His stitches hurt when he sat up.

It wasn’t like he had nothing to do, either. His homework was right there. A guy couldn’t even have appendicitis these days without a little APUSH reading to go along with it.

He poked at the stitches and resolved not to do it again.

The hospital was a boring place. Presumably the surgery itself had been a little more exciting. Jesper barely remembered it. How was that for a bit of luck?! One of the most exciting things to happen in a guy’s life and he was all delirious! So now he sat on a semi-comfortable bed in a too-cold room. He had a window, at least, not that he could see much through it. A curtain was drawn across the room long-ways, like he might get jealous of that empty bed and… and race them or something. Yeah, like rig up an oxygen tank and have a two-bed hospital race, that would be cool!

He wasn’t going to, but it was fun to imagine.

Jesper knew he should do some reading. Exams and all that. But he knew it was pointless, to. His mind would wander after a few minutes. And if he was being honest, he didn't actually want to study. Didn't he deserve a break? A proper sick day?

So he leaned back and decided if he was stuck on his own, he might as well entertain himself. He sang to himself. He started with “Walk the Line”—picked up courtesy of his father, who hadn’t even been born when it was first released, but played Johnny Cash all Jesper’s childhood.

It was a good song, anyway.

Jesper waited a moment after the end of it, pausing for an imaginary audience.

“Thank you so much, it’s an honor to be here tonight. Now, for my next hit, this is ‘Party in the CIA’ by Weird Al Yankovic…”

And obviously he had to do a few moves, it was a song that just begged for finger-guns, imaginary sunglasses, and pretend tie-straightening. He limited the moves after an objection from his stitches, but that in no way limited his good time. Except, Jesper had only got to a line that always got him—“We got snazzy suits and ties/and a better dental plan than the FBI’s!”—when he heard… laughter.

Jesper stopped the song.

“What the—I thought I was alone!”

There was no answer.

“Well, now I know I’m not, so you might as well speak up.” And ideally his roommate could confirm his age. Jesper was seventeen, so they had stuck him in the pediatric ward. He hoped he wasn’t bunking with a kid—that would be… weird. Plus he’d have to work on not cussing.

“H-hey,” said the other guy. He sounded a little younger, but Jesper couldn't be sure.

“Hey! So you like Weird Al?”

“Who?”

“Weird Al Yankovic. Never mind, never mind. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Cool, I’m seventeen. So what’re you in for? I had my appendix out.” And his roommate was close to his age, so he had someone to hang out with! Jesper glanced at his APUSH book, then back to his fingers tugging at the blanket.

“Did it hurt?”

Jesper hadn’t initially said it was appendicitis. He hadn’t known. He thought he just felt miserable, but he didn’t want his parents to worry. By the time he couldn’t pretend anymore that he was okay…

“Nah. They knocked me out, anyway. I’m just bored.”

“Me, too.”

“Want to play Twenty Questions?”

“Sure. You pick something first.”

“Got it. It’s a person.”

The game continued for a while. It wasn’t Jesper’s favorite game in the world, but it kept him occupied—that and toying with the blanket—even as they got into an argument over whether or not “a field” counted as a thing. It totally did, a specific field would have been a place, but this was a kind of place, which was a thing.

“No, a place is a place, you can’t just decide a place is a thing!”

“Yeah, if it were a specific place, but it’s not a place. It’s a category of places.”

“So a room would be a thing, but this room is a place?”

“Glad we agree.”

“That is ridiculous.”

Jesper laughed. He was about to retort that it wasn’t ridiculous, it was logical, when the door opened.

“You look cheerful,” Aditi Hilli reported, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Just cold and my stitches are itchy.”

“Itchy means healing,” she said, smoothing a hand over his hair.

“There you go, siding with medicine again!”

He knew she only had a minute. She wasn’t treating him, that would be a severe conflict of interest, but she had found time in her shift to stop in. So Jesper didn’t waste time groaning. He didn’t even put up a fuss when she hugged him.

“Are you dizzy or in any pain?”

“No.” It was a medical question, but he understood that it was a mom question, too. It was a how are you question with more detail.

“Have you—”

“Ma, I love you, but I am not talking to you about pooping.”

“Honestly, Jesper, I changed your diapers.”

“Ma!”

“After an appendectomy—”

Jesper grabbed the pillow and wrapped it around his head like massive earmuffs as he informed her, loudly, “Not listening! Not listening!”

She shook her head at him and checked his chart. Okay, fine, she knew she could get that information. He still didn’t want to have the actual conversation. Seriously, was nothing sacred?

She set down the chart. He set down the pillow.

“I’m glad you’re okay, little rabbit.”

Jesper slumped just slightly. It was easy to shrug off being sick, but he knew his parents had genuinely been scared. He should have told them earlier, but that was easy to say in hindsight. But he was already enough of a disaster. Telling them meant giving them one more thing to worry about, and he had expected to hurt for a while and recover on his own.

“I love you, too. I’m fine, I promise, just… bored. Do you have my tangle? Or my zippers?”

“No, but your father’s coming to see you after work. He wanted to stay but I knew you wouldn’t like him hovering.”

“Thanks for taking care of us.”

“I’ll ask him to look for your things. Do you know where they are?”

“Um… y’know… I think I have a couple bracelets in the bathroom, and my tangle might be in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m sick,” he reminded her, playing up his ‘sick face’ to avoid hearing about how he needed to clean his room. He knew that. He didn’t mean to leave it a mess, he just kind of… forgot. The mess was organic.

“I’ll ask him.”

She kissed his forehead and left. There wasn’t a lot of down time in hospitals. Well… there was. But it all went to patients.

After a moment, Jesper said, “So… you heard that.”

Great. His anonymous roommate had heard his ma talking about his messy room. Among more embarrassing things.

“She seems nice,” his roommate said. “My mom’s a nurse, so I’m used to… you know, being asked about symptoms.”

“Great, I can’t wait to hear about whether or not you’ve pooped.”

“I’m not here for poop-related reasons.”

Jesper laughed.

***

It was much later when his roommate’s mom visited. Jesper’s da had been in and gone. Like Aditi, Colm was glad to see his son recovering. He had a more frank, less clinical way of saying how worried he had been. He brought Jesper a hat and socks for the cold, and two zipper bracelets and his infinity cube, so the nothingness of the room stopped grating on his nerves quite so badly. The feeling was difficult to describe—it was like having this emptiness building up against him so he couldn’t find a space to exist.

Jesper would always find something to fidget with, but knowing he had dedicated fidgets at hand softened an edge.

The roommates couldn’t see each other, but they could both see the door, so Jesper saw the woman with curly red hair come into the room and head over to his roommate.

“Hey, sweetpea.”

“Hi, Mom.”

That was… not his roommate’s voice. This voice was softer, higher, and a little nervous. Jesper couldn't help having his interest piqued by the shift. Sure, Jesper changed his tone with his parents, but he still sounded like Jesper. His roommate sounded like a stranger.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I… ———… we love you.”

Well, damn, his roommate was a girl! Jesper thought back over their conversation, searching for anything he might’ve said that he maybe shouldn’t’ve.

“I love you, too, Mom.” She sounded like it hurt to say.

“If this is about what your father said the other day, he… he needs you to be patient with him.”

“Okay.”

“He’s trying.”

Jesper was, by now, sitting very, very still. He knew this conversation wasn’t meant for him to hear, but in a small room, he couldn’t exactly not hear what was said a few feet away. So he tried to stay quiet and not make them feel self-conscious—and, if he was being completely honest, he was curious.

“Why do you excuse everything he does?”

“He’s not perfect, but he loves us. You’re still his little girl.”

“Okay.”

“———.”

“Could you just leave me alone, please?” said his roommate, in what Jesper could only describe as an amazingly rude way.

“———.”

“If you had to lose me or leave him, who would you pick?”

“That’s not fair.”

Jesper’s roommate said nothing.

“I’ll come back later. I hope you feel better then.”

Jesper settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes, doing his very best impression of sleeping. The door opened and closed, and they were alone. He stayed quiet for a moment, absently turning his infinity cube over and over in his hand. He had wanted to go back to talking with his roommate… but now he didn’t know what to say. That had been a heavy conversation to just ignore.

Then he realized his roommate was crying.

“Hey,” Jesper said. “———?”

She didn’t answer.

“You okay?”

“That’s not my name.”

“Oh.” Jesper looked at the cube, clicking idly in his hand. He had no idea what was going on. “My name’s Jesper, but I guess you knew that since my ma visited. You want to play twenty questions? I got a good one. C’mon, you’ll never guess!” he wheedled.

After a moment, his roommate sniffled, then asked, “Person, place, or thing?”

***

“I feel wronged.”

Jesper snorted. Yeah, that was about the most accurate summary of their current situation. He still hadn’t seen his roommate, but they called to each other across the curtains. The entire situation looked brighter in the morning light. Jesper felt better. His body was rapidly putting the surgery behind him.

Even sunshine couldn’t fix the picture in front of him, though. Last night, his da had brought him food from home. No such luck today: Jesper sat up in bed, mournfully regarding the hospital’s breakfast tray.

He lifted the toast and gave it a shake. It wriggled.

“I think they steamed the toast,” he said.

His roommate laughed. “Think they toasted it first?”

Jesper set the toast aside. “You eating yours?”

“I can’t.”

“Me too. The apple looks okay.”

“Looks are deceiving things.”

Jesper bit into his apple and shuddered. He carefully removed the piece of fruit from his mouth, trying to pretend he hadn’t felt that mealy hellflesh.

“Cereal and milk it is!” he announced. “I got Corn Flakes. You?”

“Rice Krispies.”

“This is blatant favoritism and I won’t stand for it!”

“You just had surgery, you’re not supposed to be standing at all.”

“Wow,” Jesper said, not at all appreciating that. It was true, but… wow.

He poured the mini box of corn flakes and carton of milk into his bowl. The breakfast tray was a depressing sight. There was steamed toast and an apple that was an insult to other apples. Still, at least he had juice to look forward to and the jello had been pretty good.

Halfway through his Corn Flakes, he asked, “So what are you in for, anyway? I had my appendix out.”

“I was sleepwalking—it’s dumb. I thought I was eating Skittles.”

“What were you really eating? Steamed toast?”

“Aspirin.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I was sleepwalking.”

“Yeah, totally,” Jesper said, trying to sound like he believed it.

A while later, once the salvagable parts of breakfast had been endured, Jesper’s roommate appeared around the curtain, leaning on an IV stand. She was small, the sort of girl who looked like she would never be more than 5'. She had freckles and a curly red-gold ponytail, and if Jesper was being completely honest, she was cute.

“Want to play cards?” she asked.

“Um—I…”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s cool.”

“I have a gambling problem,” Jesper blurted out. “I can’t… it’s really… I have a problem. But if we keep it chill?”

“Sure. How about Go Fish? No one gambles over Go Fish.”

Gamblers would gamble over anything, but she sounded so sweet and optimistic, he didn’t want to ruin her bright outlook.

“Sounds good.”

She sat on the end of his bed and dealt.

They made it a few rounds without chatting much, then she said, “I’ll tell you my name, but you can’t tell anybody.”

Jesper wanted to ask why she was trusting him, but instead said, “I won’t.”

She leaned nearer and whispered it. Jesper had suspected something like this. He appreciated having it confirmed. Now that he knew, he rearranged his thoughts about his roommate to use the correct pronouns.

“Wylan’s a cool name.”

Jesper’s roommate smiled at his cards, a smile that was determinedly interrupted with a scowl.

“Not as cool as Jesper,” he continued, “but still pretty cool. You want to play again?”

By that afternoon, they had both seen their mothers again. Wylan’s mom seemed to really love him, Jesper thought, even if she did use his deadname. The visit still left Wylan withdrawn, but Jesper talked his new friend into another round of Go Fish. It wasn’t such a fun game. It was about the company, though said company remained gloomy. He had a scowl like thunder.

“Here, I have an idea.” Jesper pulled off his beanie. “Do you want to…?”

Wylan took the hat, pulled it on, and tucked his hair up under it.

“I hate feeling it,” he said. “That’s probably stupid, but I hate it! It’s stupid. You have long hair and you don’t look like a girl!”

“You don’t look like a girl, either. And you don’t sound like a girl, I thought you were a guy until I heard your mom say your name. Which now I know isn’t your name,” Jesper added.

The stormclouds began to disperse.

“When I was a kid, I used to imitate cartoons.”

“Oh yeah? Can you still do it?”

Jesper didn’t have to hear the answer—which was just as well, because Wylan didn’t give him one.

“Do one for me! C’mon, just one.”

Wylan shifted, keeping his eyes on their forgotten game of Go Fish. Then he said, “Meep meep!”

“Pfft, Road Runner doesn’t count.”

“Road Runner’s a cartoon!” “You said one word and it was onomatopoeia!”

“Okay, yeah, but… okay. Okay.” Wylan took a deep breath, settled his shoulders, and stared at the sheets with a deepening blush as he said, “Duck season! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Wabbit season! I say it’s duck season, and I say, fire!”

Jesper laughed. “That’s really good!” he said. He wasn’t laughing at Wylan, but because the impression was so good, almost like different people when Bugs and Daffy spoke. Besides, the cartoon was a classic. Wylan must’ve known, because he smiled.

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #wesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #trans wylan #aditi hilli and marya van eck make appearances #modern au #hospital au #au_gust_2020 #my writing

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themattress · 3 years

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OUAT AND ME: SEASON 5

Story - The story for the first half of the season is the Dark Swan Saga and the story for the second half is the Underworld Saga. The Dark Swan Saga is split between a flashback story where the main characters travel to Camelot to help free Emma from the Dark One curse and a present day story where they are back in Storybrooke with no memories of their time in Camelot and Emma appears to have become a full-on villain who seeks to claim the power of the sword Excalibur for herself. The Underworld Saga is a direct follow-up to the Dark Swan Saga, as the heroes brave the dangers of the Underworld, a limbo zone between life and death that curiously appears to resemble Storybrooke, in order to retrieve a fallen friend.

The Dark Swan Saga...should not have happened. Or to put it more clearly, Emma should not have ever been the Dark One and Storybrooke should not have been a setting here at all, as it ends up ruining the potential inherit in a Camelot-based arc. And that potential is all over the place, everything about this show's interpretation of Camelot is subversive and unique and reminiscent of OUAT at its best, and yet it takes further and further of a backseat in favor of Emma as the Dark One....whenever it's not taking a backseat to elements from Disney/Pixar's Brave! Yes, this is a problem I neglected to point out when talking about Season 4: the Disney influence on the show that was always there in moderation has started to become more pronounced, and it's to the show's detriment. Brave isn't even an adapted story, not even loosely like Frozen was, it's a pure Disney/Pixar invention. And yet the show is linking it to Camelot and the legend of King Arthur!? Frankly, I find that to be a little insulting.

And on top of everything, the arc pulls a plot twist in the last third that is completely unnecessary and merely overcomplicates things while pleasing virtually no-one: Emma isn't evil at all, but Hook is because she turned him into a Dark One against his will in Camelot when he was dying of a mortal wound! Given that the arc was doing an equally asinine thing with Rumple in claiming that he had become a pure hero worthy of pulling Excalibur from its stone because he threw some magic dust at a bear, this twist just adds to already mounting frustration. And then they pull ANOTHER twist where after Hook comes to his senses and has his big self-sacrifice moment, we learn that Rumple was still evil all along and has invalidated Hook's sacrifice to destroy the Darkness by taking it all back, becoming the Darkest Dark One who is more powerful then ever before, with Belle being none the wiser.

So after that bullshit is through, we get the Underworld Saga and...it's honestly the best that OUAT has been since Season 3! It seriously feels like the Neverland Saga and the Wicked Saga mixed in a blender, and while that's not always ideal, for the most part it works perfectly. Many of the characters begin to feel like their old selves again, we actually start to get moments of hope and happiness back even amidst the bleakness of the setting, Zelena finally begins changing for the better, we get an influx of returning characters who - for the most part - it's great to see again, and we are provided with an excellent Big Bad, Hades.

But sadly, it was not to last. The Underworld Saga ends with a highly questionable decision, in the third-to-last episode, leaving just a two-part season finale left. If that decision hadn't been made and the show hadn't been renewed, we could have had ourselves a blowout finale that left most viewers satisfied. But because neither of those things happen, we instead get a weak finale which sets the stage for weak finales in the next two seasons as well, and all three of these finales hold elements that could have worked blended together into one finale, but are underwhelming when taken on their own. If there was any need to confirm that this show's best days were long behind it, this absolute joke of a finale was that confirmation.

Characters - Misery, misery, misery. That's what you've chosen.

* This is Emma Swan's worst season, bar none. From beginning to end, the writing is all about Emma Torture Porn, putting her through metaphorical and literal Hell and turning this once proud hero into a punching bag. No matter what she does, no matter what choice she makes, it's always the wrong way to do things and she is endlessly shamed for it. This is a natural follow-up to what was happening in Season 4, where the definition of Emma's role as "the Savior" underwent a drastic shift. Initially, it was simply to break the Dark Curse, but then Emma took control of her own destiny and redefined it to mean the protector of the residents of Storybrooke so that they can maintain their happy endings or be free to obtain them. But in Seasons 4 and 5, it suddenly got redefined as Emma being personally responsible for giving everyone their happy endings, her own happiness be damned. That's why she was obligated to sacrifice herself to the Dark One Curse for Regina, and why her being the Dark One instantly causes her to be treated as the worst Big Bad to ever menace Storybrooke despite barely doing anything actually villainous. In fact, "Emma gets punished for doing good" is a pretty recurring theme at this point. It's tiring to root for such a perpetually miserable heroine, and so while other things hold my investment in this season, Emma is sadly not one of them.

* Snow and Charming have one good episode in the Dark Swan Saga, but that's not enough to make up for what utterly boring characters and utterly horrible parents they are in every other episode. The fact that they don't lift a finger to find Emma, talk to her, and get her to see reason when they think she's evil is beyond disgraceful, especially when it happens in the same arc where them being written as surrogate parents to Regina is taken to a whole new level of creepy. Like, a sickening level of creepy. They are suddenly written well, in regards to their parentage of Emma and in regards to everything else, in the Underworld Saga, but again, the show not ending means that it's not going to last into the next story arc.

* Henry really comes into his own this season. Being written like a teenager instead of a child does wonders for his character, as even amidst fantastical fairy tale backdrops and with the magical position of Author, he struggles with real teenage issues that anyone who is or has ever been a teenager can relate to. He experiences his first crush, struggles with trying to stand as more of an equal with the adult heroes, and even undergoes what's basically a crisis of faith. And now that he's past puberty, Jared Gilmore is a much better actor than he's been in the past, finally selling the material that's written for his character the way it needs to be.

* Regina starts off in full Mary Sue mode, following up naturally from Season 4. "The Price" is an episode that is everything wrong with her character in microcosm. However, after a few episodes pass she settles down into a relatively inoffensive, bland character for the most part. In The Underworld Saga, there are even times when she is downright likable, which almost distracts from how ludicrously good she has it in a place that is allegedly full of her resentful victims, whom she does absolutely nothing to help. Unfortunately, because of the questionable decision that was made by the writers in the penultimate episode, the two-part finale brings her full circle, with both said finale and the show going forward suffering for it.

* If Rumple had a return to form in Season 4, then Season 5 makes the issues with his character in Season 3 look miniscule by comparison. His imp self, whether featuring in flashbacks or as the form the Darkness takes to needle Emma or Hook into embracing it, is still a delight that Robert Carlyle clearly enjoys playing. But his human self, Mr. Gold, is handled atrociously. First he is an over-the-top coward beyond what he ever was in the past, then insufferably smug about being a "hero" even though he doesn't deserve that position, then it looks like he might just make the final turn to good before he swings in the opposite direction and becomes the Darkest Dark One, and as the Darkest Dark One he is a cold, abusive dickwad who isn't fun to watch and Robert Carlyle doesn't seem to be having as much fun playing, as he starts phoning it in on more occasions than is usual for an actor of his caliber. It's only in the last five episodes, when Belle is taken out of the picture by a sleeping spell, that he suddenly regains some of his former glory and becomes engaging again, but even then the series not ending deprives him of a conclusion at a point where he could have one, so we're stuck with the Darkest Dark One for a whole 'nother season.

* Hook is mostly great in this season. In the Dark Swan Saga, he is badly handled and often behaving insufferable in the Storybrooke parts of the story, culminating in his turn as Dark Hook which, while Colin O'Donoghue performs it amazingly, was highly unnecessary and only serves to convolute an already heavily loaded arc at the last minute. However, in the Camelot parts of the story, he is on top form as a romantic hero, complete with his original pirate garb. And he really gets to shine in the Underworld Saga, where we see him be brave in the face of bloody torture, recover from depression and rediscover hope, find closure with his older brother Liam, confirm his and Emma's relationship as True Love, and finally be resurrected by Zeus after being ordained a True Hero by him. He sadly has precious little to do in the finale and next season will totally forget about all this, but taken on its own, it's good stuff.

* How do you solve a problem like Belle? Put her to sleep, apparently. Yes, after having her re-enter a romantic relationship with Rumple (following a ridiculous, not-fooling-anyone tease that maybe she won't take him back), Belle learns that she's been duped again since Rumple had taken back the Darkness before she slept with him. But it's too late now - she's pregnant with his child! And she learns this from Rumple, at the same time he reveals his deception to her and finally gives her a "This is who I am, take it or leave it" ultimatum. She spirals into an erratic mess, tries to redeem another bad boy romantic interest only to end up condemning his soul to the River Styx, and then puts herself under a sleeping spell after giving Rumple the extremely poorly-worded order to "do whatever it takes" to get her and their unborn child out of the Underworld safely. Rumple then literally objectifies her by placing her in Pandora's Box, which he lets slip through a portal in the season finale. And that's literally it. The writers aren't even trying with Belle. They just don’t care about her. She's done as a character.

* Robin Hood's soul is obliterated. I know it's weird to start off like this, with the last thing that happens to him in the season, but that really does overshadow what little else he does in the season where he was ironically made an "official" regular. This is the culmination of the misuse of his character: being made Deader than Dead by his rapist's psycho boyfriend. And yeah, the next two seasons retcon this fate, but when Season 5 is taken as is, then you enter the finale on a sour note because the bleakest thing possible happened to someone who really didn't deserve it, all so that Regina can make certain developments that would have better off not being made. It again makes me wish that Season 5 was the final season, since then there would be no option to make those developments and Robin could be spared. But as it stands, it's the last indignity inflicted upon the legendary hero, and on Sean Maguire.

* Zelena is promoted to regular this season, to the surprise of no-one. What is surprising is that the writing issues she had in the previous seasons are all but absent here. Zelena is an incredibly entertaining, funny, deliciously wicked, sympathetic, nuanced and ultimately redeemed character this season, with Rebecca Mader doing some of her best acting work. Her joining forces with the villainous King Arthur, her giving birth to her child, her tragic romance with Hades, and her reconciliation with her mother and sister are all highlights.

* Hades, the Big Bad of the Underworld Saga, is the best Big Bad this show has had since the Neverland Saga's Peter Pan. He's devious, underhanded and hateful, but he's also funny and smooth and, when it comes to Zelena, legitimately romantic. Greg Germann's performance is naturally the glue that holds it all together; he is just so charismatic. Hades is also a great example of a nuanced villain who doesn't end up getting redeemed, as in a great twist the curse that Zelena's True Love's Kiss breaks, a curse to stop his heart and dull his feelings, was put on him by Zeus for a damn good reason, as he is an absolutely sadistic psychopath with his heart beating. The only downside to Hades (besides the needless Disney-esque fiery blue hair effect they occasionally use on him) is that his defeat is rather anticlimactic, hinging entirely on the fact that he forged the only thing in existence that could kill him. If he hadn't made such a monumentally stupid blunder, taking him down would have been much harder. His actual death scene is well-done, but in context it’s pretty silly.

* Camelot introduces an onslaught on new characters: King Arthur who is reimagined as an insecure, self-righteous tyrant, and his wife Queen Guinevere whom he has under mind control so that she's unwaveringly loyal to him. There is also the short-lived Sir Percival, the even shorter-lived Sir Kay, and Sir Morgan who ends up being the Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Sir Morgan's daughter, Violet, is Henry's adorkable new girlfriend. The nearby kingdom of Dunbroch gives us Merida and her father King Fergus, whom was surprisingly allowed to get killed off. And we even have some returning characters like Sir Lancelot (not killed by Cora after all), Mulan (suddenly a lone mercenary despite having last been seen joining the Merry Men), and Ruby (and oh boy, I'll get back to Ruby soon...)

Two absolutely pivotal characters to the show's overall lore are Merlin and Nimue. Merlin, who contrary to usual depictions is a young black guy, is the Sorcerer who was constantly alluded to in Season 4, responsible for such things as the position of the Author. His ex-lover Nimue became the first Dark One through drinking in the power of the Holy Grail and then perverting it for murderous vengeance. It was Merlin who reforged the Holy Grail into Excalibur afterward, then breaking it in half and creating the Dark One Dagger out of the top half. Nimue, meanwhile, is the closest to a Big Bad that the Dark Swan Saga has apart from Emma and Hook, influencing them as an avatar of the Darkness prior to her actual soul, still bonded to the Darkness, rejoining the land of the living alongside the other dead Dark Ones. With her ashen-gray face and creepy monotone voice, Nimue is a truly unsettling figure.

* While there are a few new characters encountered in the Underworld such as Hercules, Megara and Zeus, the main attraction is all of the returning dead characters they were able to get back on the show. Neal, Cora, Henry Sr., Peter Pan, Cruella De Vil, the Blind Witch, Prince James, Milah, Liam, Gaston, the Sorcerer's Apprentice....even obscure characters like Stealthy and Claude! Some are utilized better than others, but it's great to see all of them.

And then there's one living character whose return I could have done without - Dorothy Gale, who is even blander as an adult than she was as a child! And to add insult onto injury, the writers clearly set up a gay storyline between Mulan and Ruby in the Dark Swan Saga, only for Disney to apparently step in and not allow it since Mulan is in the Disney Princess lineup and her in a gay romance is bad for the brand (then why'd you allow her to have feelings for fellow Disney Princess Aurora then!?), and so out of nowhere we get the Ruby/Dorothy romance in the span of just a single episode. Watching Meghan Ory desperately attempt to act like she's in love with the wooden actress who plays Dorothy is painful to watch, and this being Ruby's final appearance just hammers how how utterly wasted this poor character was.

* The two-part season finale brings another unwelcome return: the Dragon from the abominable "Selfless, Brave and True" episode of Season 2 (like Lancelot, he is retconned into having survived). We are also introduced to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Land of Untold Stories in which they reside...and as I'll detail in my next post, this is a place and a concept that is so wasted, even by the standards set by this show, that it's mind-boggling. Last and most certainly least, we have the Evil Queen that Dr. Jekyll's serum brings out of Regina, with Lana Parilla in full camp mode while playing her. And after a fake-out where it looks like she's dealt with, she's shown to be alive and will be our next antagonist. Joy.

Atmosphere - Whether you like this season's atmosphere or not, there is no denying that it has distinct atmosphere: dark and morose and foreboding, to the point of bleakness, coupled with a sweeping epic and romantic feel. I personally feel like this atmosphere is perfectly appropriate when the stakes are raised so high and the show is dealing with two of the oldest mythologies in the world, Arthurian and Greek respectively, but it seems that too frequently the show doesn't know when to hold back and reign it in a little. This is especially the case in the final two episodes of each arc (not including the two-part season finale). I must definitely give props, however, to the designers of the Underworld's version of Storybrooke, or as fans liked to call it: "Scarybrooke". With the decaying buildings, red sky filter, and broken clock tower in the middle of the street, you really feel like the characters are traversing an eerie new world even though it's technically the regular old Storybrooke set that is being used.

Also, despite being featured in the wretched episodes "The Price" and "Dreamcatcher" and has the first part of the wretched finale named after it, I really like the usage of the song "Only You" by Alison Moyet. It adds kind of a (suitably romantic) theme song to the season.

Episode Quality - While the Dark Swan Saga may not be a good one overall, its episode quality is a mixed bag. "The Broken Kingdom" and "Nimue" are easily the best episodes, since they are almost exclusively focused on Camelot. "The Dark Swan" and "The Price" are easily the worst episodes, starting the arc on off the worst possible foot. "Dreamcatcher" and, especially due its Brave connections, "The Bear and the Bow" are vey weak episodes, while "Siege Perilous" and, in spite of its Brave connections, "The Bear King" are surprisingly strong episodes. And then there's the Dark Hook trilogy of "Birth", "Broken Heart" and "Swan Song", which have some amazing visuals, brilliant acting, and dramatically thrilling moments, but they unfortunately can't shake off just how badly the Dark Hook twist affects the story. I never liked the idea of making Emma the Dark One, but if the show was going to do that, then they should have gone the whole way with it rather than pull this kind of bait and switch.

The first four episodes of the Underworld Saga, dedicated to saving Hook, are its strongest: "Souls of the Departed", "Labor of Love", "Devil's Due" and "The Brothers Jones" flow really well into one another and all have their share of memorable moments and interesting character development. "Our Decay" and "Sisters" are also strong episodes, although they have some drawbacks such as a well-acted but painfully uncomfortable scene between Rumple and Belle in the former and the inexplicable wasting of Prince James in the latter. "Her Handsome Hero" and "Ruby Slipper" are the only truly weak episodes in the arc, and even they have their moments, usually courtesy of Hades. Finally, the climactic "Firebird" and "Last Rites" are of the same quality - everything that transpires in the Underworld is fantastic, but everything that doesn't is flawed. The flashback in the former is completely nonsensical and does Emma's character a huge disservice, which is especially a shame when her present-day material is some of her best in the season. The Storybrooke-based events in the latter culminate in Robin Hood's death and I've already made my thoughts known about that, but the quest in the Underworld shared between Hook and Arthur is something I never knew I needed, with Colin O'Donoghue and Liam Garrigan's chemistry being off the charts and the resolution we get for both the Underworld and Arthur's character being absolutely perfect.

And then there's the two-part finale, "Only You" and "An Untold Story", which I think actually holds up even worse than it did when it first aired. Emma revealing to everyone else that Hook is back alive, Rumple absorbing all Storybrooke's magic into the Olympian Crystal, Emma and Regina's argument that makes Henry think Regina is regressing, Henry blaming magic for everything and setting out with Violet on a quest to destroy it, and both the heroes and Rumple reacting accordingly all happens within the first 10 minutes. Just 4 minutes later, Emma and Regina are in Boston, Henry and Violet are in New York, and Snow, Charming, Hook and Zelena are in the Land of Untold Stories. And then, despite all this rushing, we end up spending 7 fucking minutes on a woe-is-me, martyr complex speech by Regina to Emma in Neal's old apartment. Regina and her angst ends up slowing down the second part as well, as the process of her using Jekyll's serum and separating the Evil Queen from her (encouraged by a re-idiofied Snow) goes on forever. The final scene being the Evil Queen's return, with her promising to be the next Big Bad to threaten Storybrooke, is the exact opposite of how to get me hyped for next season. At least with Season 4′s finale, there was the promise of going to Camelot in addition to Emma as the Dark One. What does this finale have to accompany the Evil Queen factor? Mr. Hyde and his invisible friends? Weak!

There are some elements in this finale that work and that I would have liked to see in a series finale at this point - Henry and Violet hanging out together, Rumple with his Olympian Crystal plot, Neal having some posthumous relevancy, the Land Without Magic outside Storybroke being a setting, and the full-circle element in regards to "New York City Serenade". But none of those things are worth how they were utilized here, alongside the reappearance of the Dragon, the wasting of the Land of Untold Stories, and Henry's cringe-inducing speech about believing in magic that Jared Gilmore probably won't be putting on any career highlight reels.

Overall - Season 5 is probably the most personally frustrating season of the show to me. I love it, I hate it, I find joy in it, I find despair in it, I can enjoy it for what it is while also agonizing over what it could have been. The one consistent I have in regards to it is that it should have been the final season of the show. If Adam and Eddy had allowed that, they still would have had enough goodwill from viewers to potentially do more in the OUAT universe afterward (ex: more spin-offs like Once Upon a Time in Wonderland; maybe one where they could utilize their Land of Untold Stories idea which seems tailor-made for an anthology series). Because as lows as this season's low points are, its highs are not going to be matched by the next two seasons, and that was the death of OUAT as a profitable franchise.

#Once Upon a Time #ABC #OUAT and Me #Opinion #Analysis

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peterstanslizzie · 4 years

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Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 2.6 (The Rise and Fall of the Kate Empire)

A baby kitten is born every time Kate smiles

- It’s lunchtime and the students of Hillridge Junior High have flocked to the school courtyard to eat their lunch. However, Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda got there a bit too late and they are struggling to find seats.The only 3 seats available are at Kate and Claire’s table (which was actually their usual table) but due to obvious reasons, they hesitate to sit with them.

- However, Gordo is sick of eating his baloney in the grass and wants to take a stand against the cheerleaders and their ‘no mixing with outsiders’ policy. Things start out promising but moments later, all three of them end up eating in the grass.

I wish they showed what Kate and Claire did or say to them that caused them to back away.

- The cheerleaders are then seen practicing their routine led by Kate and our main trio have no other choice but to watch them. As Lizzie is watching them perform, she expresses her disdain for Kate and wishes that she would be knocked off her pedestal. Well, be careful what you wish for Lizzie because it might just come true and just like that...we get this moment:

Claire, the new Queen Bee Cheerleader

- After the opening credits, we find out that Kate had dislocated her shoulder and won’t be able to do cheerleading for about a month. Whilst Gordo and Miranda are somewhat thrilled about it, Lizzie feels slightly bad for Kate because she didn’t want her to get hurt. I’m not surprised since Kate and Lizzie did share that one bonding moment together in Season 1. So, she already knows there’s good inside of her.

- We then see Kate arriving at the cheerleaders’ lunch table but Claire and the rest of her so-called ‘friends’ are giving her a weird look. Claire rudely tells Kate that she’s not allowed to sit at their table since her shoulder got dislocated and can’t be a cheerleader anymore. She’s giving such Gretchen Wieners “You can’t sit with us” vibes. But seriously, this really shows me that Claire and the other girls are such bad friends because they are willing to turn their back against their own kind for no good reason. Especially Claire; Why would she treat her best friend like that? That’s really evil.

- I thought Kate was going to stand up for herself but no, she just leaves without fighting back. And look at her! She’s eating alone on the grass...I feel bad for her and so does Lizzie.

- Life for Lizzie and her friends under Claire’s rule or should I say, iron fist is miserable. Not only is she forcing people who’s not popular to not walk in the same hallway as her, she’s also making everyone eat lunch in the grass. She’s way worse than Kate, that’s for sure.

- Fun fact: The Lizzie Mcguire novel titled ‘The Rise and Fall of the Kate Empire’ that was based on this episode actually included Claire telling our main trio that they’re not allowed to walk in that hallway because she deemed it to be a “cheerleaders-only hallway”. She also tells them to go to the ‘dork-hallway’ instead, which where the next scene takes place.

Mission ‘Re-popularize Kate’

- Kate is seen struggling to carry her books and Lizzie approaches her to help. Lizzie also apologizes to Kate about everything that has happened to her recently. Lizzie doesn’t have to feel weird about being nice to her; They’re definitely friends deep down still.

- After school, Lizzie tells her friends that they should try to make Kate popular again so that they don’t have to deal with Claire being the school’s Queen Bee anymore. But of course, it’s clear Lizzie really wants to help her only because she feels sorry for her. After some initial hesitation, Gordo and Miranda are onboard with Lizzie’s new mission.

- For stage one of their plan, they first try to spread a rumor about Kate’s aunt being a famous cheerleader for the Lakers, which backfires on them because it made Kate seem even more desperate to become popular again. With Plan B, they sit with Kate in the grass and ask her what they can do to help her so that she can get her friends back again.

- Hmm, how about not giving two cents about her fake friends? They are horrible for just dumping her like that. Time to move on, I say. Anyways, Kate laments about not being able to do any cheerleading stunts with just one arm but I love how Lizzie is recommending her some stunts she can do since she did do Rhythmic Gymnastics in the 7th grade. I like this callback.

- Another fun fact: The novel also included Lizzie revealing to Kate that they were the ones who spread that rumor about her aunt.

Aww look at her; She really appreciates Lizzie for being willing to help her. Also, I’m living for Miranda calling Claire a witch lmao.

- Things shift over to a montage of Lizzie teaching Kate how to do one-handed stunts and Kate picks it up pretty quickly. After practice, Kate acts like she isn’t grateful for them helping her, which of course, is all a front since she wants to maintain her tough exterior in front of other people. Oh, and this moment was really awkward but funny to watch:

Basically, Gordo thought that Kate was going to thank him for helping her but it turns out that he was just sitting on her sweater lol.

The Moment Of Truth

- During cheer practice, Kate confronts Claire and challenges her to a cheer competition, to which she agrees to do. Kate goes first and she does amazingly well. But I can’t help but notice that it’s clearly a stunt double in Kate/Ashlie’s place lol.

Kate ends her routine with an aerial cartwheel and that amazes everyone in the audience, including Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda.

- Claire’s up next and...

She does an EPIC FAIL. The sound effects made it even funnier. Poor thing ended up hurting her wrist. But that’s karma for ya Claire.

- And just like that, Kate regains her status as head cheerleader with Claire being down for the count.

- Fast forward a few days later, Claire is seen with an arm sling and she’s seen eating lunch alone (as deserved btw). Kate sees her and walks up to her, with Lizzie, Miranda and Gordo thinking she’s probably going to make fun of her.

- But look at this! Kate is actually being nice to her and is welcoming Claire to sit with them despite having fractured her wrist. She’s trying to set a new precedent by not treating her friends like dirt, unlike Claire and I’m so here for that.

B-Plot: Matt and the Doorbell

This is honestly really adorable lol

- Matt reveals to his parents that he will be starring in his school’s play this year but he will only have one line to say, which is probably Matt’s most iconic line from the entire show and that is “Ah, the doorbell. I’ll get that”. Despite this, Matt thinks he is a big star of the play and without him, the play would be ruined.

- I think Lanny doesn’t seem to be down with Matt’s diva or should I say divo behavior. But at least he’s showing his support and helping him run through his one and only line lol.

- Gradually, throughout the episode, Matt’s behavior stars to get out of hand (as usual); First, he demands his mom, Jo to remove the chocolate chips from the trail mix she prepared for him and later, he asks her to turn down the lights in the living room for him. He’s even starting to boss Lanny around.

- It’s actually gotten so bad that both Jo and Sam are willing to ground him after the play for treating the people around him like dirt. After hearing about the news of his grounding, Matt gets upset to the point where he loses his voice from trying to talk back to them. And just like that, they decide to retract his sentencing because losing his voice is good enough punishment. Umm, shouldn’t they be more concerned about his health though lol?

- Anyways, towards the end of the episode, Matt is bed-ridden and he also apologizes to his mom and Lanny for being a jerk to them. Because Matt isn’t able to do the play anymore, Lanny volunteers to take his place. I wonder how he’s going to say the line since we NEVER hear him speak. Lol! I guess that’s the joke huh?

Overall Thoughts

- It’s pretty clear that the A-plot and the B-plot of this episode both share the same lesson of learning how to not treat your friends like dirt with Matt apologizing to his mom and Lanny for his diva behavior and with Kate learning not to treat people badly despite having been treated badly herself by those same people.

- This episode definitely has elements of the season 1 episode, “Lizzie and Kate’s Excellent Adventure” where we see Lizzie and Kate getting along well. I just wish that this episode ended with them actually becoming friends again because clearly, they were always meant to be friends. Like, they seriously need to stop playing it up in public that they dislike each other. That smile they gave each other in the end was all the hint they needed in order to realize that them hating on each other is stupid. And with Claire, I just hope she learned her lesson and realizes that Kate is a true friend. This episode also makes me realize that she is such a bad influence on Kate. Hopefully things will change with Claire.

- Matt’s storyline was pretty decent actually; It really shows me that he can take responsibility and apologize to the people he’s offended. His scenes didn’t distract me from the main plot and I hope it continues this way in the episodes to come.

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freedom-shamrock · 5 years

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Hero Cafe

Also on AO3

The idea for this was sparked by a recent comment Dawn_on_Fire made on AO3 on the BAMF Marinette story "Snack Chat."

⁂

Marinette looked over everything in the mini refrigerator while Tikki ran down the checklist.

"It looks like you've got everything set, Marinette," her kwami said brightly. "This is such a sweet idea. I'm proud of you for moving past your worries to make this happen."

She closed the door and stood up, gazing proudly at her balcony's new setup. Superhero work was exhausting and took a lot of reserves. A few months back, she'd started bringing a bag of end-of-day breads and pastries whenever she was on patrol or training with any of her teammates. While they'd all appreciated it, Chat Noir had actually gotten tearful in his gratitude. Her partner was far too thin. Sure, his black suit emphasized that, but she'd picked him up enough times to know that it wasn't an illusion. She'd heard enough to know that his home life was garbage, and while she couldn't ask, it was clear he wasn't getting enough to eat.

It had taken far too long to come up with a solution that didn't involve her going out every night to feed her kitty. Lycee had gotten intense and she was stretched too thin as it was; she couldn't afford to give up more sleep if she wanted to keep all her commitments and ensure Paris' safety.

Pitching the plan of creating a superhero rest stop to her parents was easier than she'd expected, though perhaps pointing out Chat Noir's dangerously underweight physique, and likening it to her friend Adrien's, was all it took. Her parents were feeders and caretakers; they couldn't abide underfed children.

"It was so nice of your parents to get you the mini-fridge and microwave," Tikki said. "You're not the only member of the family with great ideas!"

"We Dupain-Chengs are creative." She tickled the little red being's tummy. "And I'm sure it helps to have the literal embodiment of creation hanging around us."

Tikki shook her head. "I'm drawn to creativity, and I might boost it because we're so close all the time. But I can't make what isn't there."

Resting her hands on her hips, Marinette surveyed the finished project. It far exceeded her plans of a cooler and box of snacks, with boxes to sit on. She'd found a tiny table and two low profile chairs at a cafe that was changing out all of its patio furniture. She'd expanded her brightly colored awning to cover the entire patio, not just the corner where the food was kept. She'd added curtains on all sides that could be dropped for privacy or protection from the weather, though she expected they'd stay rolled up most of the time. For the nights when more than two heroes were out and about, she'd added a storage bench full of blankets. Her fairy lights had been swapped out for a larger set.

Tikki swooped over to the pseudo-kitchenette and hung up the laminated page explaining all the features of the space. Then she darted over to circle the empty rings in the new ceiling. "Let's put up your sign. Then you'll be officially open for business."

"Business," Marinette snorted, but picked up the little sign she'd crafted. "This is a philanthropic activity. I don't get paid for it."

"True," Tikki agreed. "But you do get peace of mind."

Sighing happily, Marinette nodded. "Yeah. I do."

⁂

"Where are we going?" Chat Noir asked as Ladybug led him over the rooftops.

"It's a surprise." She couldn't look at him right now; she was afraid her giddiness would give her away. She couldn't wait to see his reaction. They were nearly there. "You'll want to vary your approach trajectory in the future to prevent suspicion."

"So it's someplace we'll be going routinely, then?" he asked, and she could imagine him tapping his clawed index finger against his chin as he followed. "New roof for meeting or training?" he guessed.

"Nope. This is way cooler." She paused on a roof where she could see both her old college and the faint twinkling of her patio lights. She had her glee under control now, and could glance over at him. "I know we've saved and met a lot of civilians, but do you happen to remember Marinette?"

His smile practically lit up the night. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The amazing up-and-coming fashion designer and daughter of the folks who run my favorite patisserie? That Marinette?"

She nodded. She'd managed to stay out of akuma attacks as a civilian for the last two years, so she was frankly surprised he remembered her so clearly.

"She's amazing," he gushed. "She's so kind and brave, and she's as creative as you are. You should probably consider her as an option for a third string miraculous wielder. I bet she'd be fantastic."

She turned away so he wouldn't see the hot blush in her cheeks. Why did her partner's effusive praise please her so much? This was ridiculous! "Sounds like some kitty has a crush," she teased.

"Won't deny that for a moment," he said, completely unperturbed. "I think it's impossible to meet Marinette and not develop a crush."

"Really?" she asked, her voice squeaking in surprise at the confirmation.

"It's like a whole new law of physics," he said, rubbing his chin with one knuckle. "If you are capable of romantic or physical attraction, you will be attracted to Marinette."

"What?" Where had this come from? "Hyperbolic much?"

"Not at all," he insisted, utterly serious. "Every one of my friends who have ever come in contact with Marinette has gotten a crush on her."

He sounded so sincere, but his words didn't match up with her reality at all.

"So much concentrated energy and compassion," he continued with a sigh. "Definitely doesn't hurt that it comes in such an adorable package. She's deceptively strong, but so nurturing. I know she'd treat a sweetheart right."

She let out an undignified squawk and tripped off the edge of the building.

Chat was snickering when he caught up with her at the next rooftop over. "So shall I add you in the crushing on Marinette club?"

"Oooh, no." She shook her head. Dating herself? That'd be a trick.

He smirked. "Aaah yes. Denial. I remember that stage. You should just move on to acceptance. Then we can talk about how awesome she is when we're playing hot-or-not. Spoiler, she's hot."

"Are you dating her?" she asked, hoping to derail that trainwreck. "Because if you're not, it sounds like you want to."

"I wish." His amusement turned to wistfulness. "I don't dare get that close to her as my super self or my bland civilian self." He shook his head. "It wouldn't be safe for her."

"Wow," she whispered. "That's both really sad and amazingly wise all at the same time."

Chat Noir shrugged. "I've grown up a bit the last few years."

"I'd noticed," she pointed out with a grin.

"No, I mean mentally… emotionally." Another shrug. "I was kind of stunted when we met. But I've learned."

She patted his shoulder. "Well, we're heading to Marinette's," she said. "She's got snacks for us."

His eyes were wide, and a blush kissed his cheeks.

She swung herself over, landing just before him, so she could see his face as he looked around the renovated space.

"Marinette's Hero Cafe?" Chat Noir read the sign she'd hung up with Tikki as the final touch. His mouth was open a little in awe. He crossed into the kitchenette where a little chalkboard on top of the microwave declared stew the special of the evening. She'd worked with multi-colored chalks to draw designs like she'd seen in various cafes around the city. He reached out and ran a finger over the stack of dishes and peeked into the refrigerator, stocked with energy drinks, a pitcher of water, fruit, cheese, and the pot of leftovers.

After he'd read the laminated sheet and marveled over every last detail, he turned to her. "Did you already see this?" he asked.

Ladybug nodded. "She flagged me down and shared the idea with me when she was just starting work on it. It's… grown a lot from what she first envisioned." She shrugged. "It's probably a little over the top. What do you think?"

He beamed at her. "I love it." He glanced down at the skylight, but her room below was dark. "If she were home… or awake, I'd have to thank her profusely. Grandly. In true Chat Noir style." He struck a pose, then dabbed.

"You're ridiculous," she said, snorting with laughter. "And while thanking her is fine, you really don't need to go over the top."

"But…" He waved around them at the remodeled space. "She made this for us. I know she used to use this space for brainstorming and designing."

"She still can," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but… I don't think she'll feel as free to do so now. Maybe during the day, but not at night." He rubbed at his chin. "I know what she's like. She's set this space aside for us, and I bet she doesn't even really think of it as hers anymore."

She stared at him, blinking in stunned silence. How did Chat Noir know Marinette so well?

"She'll want us to feel comfortable here without risks, so she'll probably take care of the space, and bring up the leftovers from dinner." He pointed at the refrigerator. "But she'll want to leave it for us."

"I hadn't thought of that." It wasn't true. She had thought of it, and felt the pros outweighed the cons. "Maybe she feels it's worth it? It's her way of thanking us for taking care of Paris."

Chat Noir lifted the glass cover off a platter of pastries to pluck out his current favorite, a croissant with just enough dark chocolate to make it feel decadent. "I may not be able to thank her tonight, but mark my words, I will rectify that in the future."

"There's no need to get all over the top and ridiculous about it," she cautioned.

"Pfft. I am Chat Noir," he announced. "Ridiculous is what I do."

She shook her head. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"And Marinette deserves an extra helping of my gratitude."

"Chaaaat," her tone was a warning.

"Think she'd accept payment in exotic fabrics?" he asked.

Ladybug stared at him, stunned for approximately the fifth time in the last hour. He knew her, Marinette her, well enough to know exactly what would appeal. She found her voice after a moment of heavy silence. "I think Plagg needs to add a tag to your collar."

His luminescent eyes blinked slowly in confusion.

"You are clearly Marinette's cat."

⁂

It’s not a one-shot anymore, and you can now check out Chapter Two if you’d like.

If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

#Miraculous Ladybug #Fanfic #My Writing #Marichat #Fluff #Marinette #Tikki #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Hero Cafe

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spacejellyfish3 · 5 years

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My Top Ten Movies Of All Time

To elaborate on a previous reblog, I wanted to go a bit more in depth on the movies I chose.

This list will be in order.

10. The Lost Boys (1987)

This movie is pretty amazing. It’s wild and crazy and so completely and utterly 80s in all of its 80sness. It’s about a family who moves to Santa Carla (The Murder Capital Of The World) only for the eldest son to be considered for “recruitment” by a flock of hip and happening bad boy vampires led by a very young Kiefer Sutherland. This movie is great; from the comic book store employees who act with the seriousness of F.B.I agents, the oiled up musclebound saxophone player with way too much or way too little (depending on who you ask) screentime, to what may be the greatest movie dog to ever exist. Watch it, you’ll have fun.

9. Bumblebee (2018)

This movie is pretty recent, but it rules. Despite the boundless cliches, I found myself really enjoying myself while watching Bumblebee (and this is coming from someone who never really got into Transformers). There’s a lot of heart and joy in it, and so much humor AND drama. The movie is CARRIED by Hailey Steinfeld, who gives an incredible and powerful performance as Charlie Watkins. I also really loved the chemistry between her character and literally everyone she meets (most especially Bumblebee). It had some fun villains and a GREAT third act. Love it a lot.

8. Carrie (1976)

Ahhhh...this movie...

This may be the best adaptation of a Stephen King book. Ever. No really.

The eponymous Carrie White is a teenage outcast, bullied and belittled at school and abused emotionally, verbally, and physically by her religiously fanatical mother. Carrie discovers she also has telekinetic powers. Her horrible life seems to soon get better when popular girl Sue, in an attempt to make amends with Carrie, asks her boyfriend Tommy to take Carrie to the prom. This leads to a wonderful night at prom, with Carrie being crowned Prom Queen. This one truly shining moment of pure happiness is shattered to pieces by a viciously cruel prank, giving the audience one of the most famous scenes in cinematic history. A tragic take on the classic Cinderella story, this movie manages to be heartwarming and tearjerking oftentimes simultaneously.

7. Spider Man: Into The Spider-Verse (2018)

This movie is objective perfection, fight me.

6. Mean Girls (2004)

What can I possibly say about this movie that hasn’t been said before? It’s fetch.

But seriously, this movie rules. Not only is it the most quotable movie of ALL TIME, it’s also a great cautionary tale about the dangers of popularity (thank you Musical Adaptation) that makes sure to remember to treat the “mean girls” as actual human beings who have their own hopes and feelings that drive them. It showcases high school social structures in a way that makes it relevant even now. Like its predecessors Heathers and Clueless, Mean Girls made sure to craft its own identity and how to properly approach the theme of popularity. Ironically, though, its success has led other filmmakers and producers to try and replicate it; make the next “Mean Girls” instead of crafting a movie with love and care. This is why I think we haven’t gotten an intensely quotable movie about popular girls that would define a generation like Heathers, Clueless, and, yes, Mean Girls did. This movie still rules, though.

5. The Little Mermaid (1989)

Yes.

Beautiful animation, great songs, and a terrific villain. What more could you ask for? (I could talk about the opinions some people have with this movie that makes them not like it, but that’s for another day I think)

4. Evil Dead 2 (1987)

This is a great horror movie. Bruce Campbell and Sam Raimi are just pure condensed awesomeness. I would’ve put the entire Evil Dead franchise in this spot if I could have but if I had to pick just one for my list, this is the one I would pick.

3. Wonder Woman (2017)

My favorite live action comic book movie. While it took a long time to get here, it definitely made it worth the wait.

Wonder Woman tells the story of the character it’s based on so wonderfully (yeah I know, lame pun), because it takes aspects from almost every writer she’s ever had—from George Perez to Greg Rucka to way way back to William Moulton Marston, her creator—while giving it their own unique spin. It keeps true to the key traits of Diana, and makes sure to keep her in character all throughout. And while I have some issues with the third act, I love the message: no one is solely good or evil, we all have a choice to do either. And it’s not about deserving, it’s about what you believe that makes the difference.

2. Tangled (2010)

My favorite animated Disney film. Tangled is a masterpiece of storytelling (I have talked about this before), wonderful animation, and compelling characters. It adapts the classic fairytale while also making smart and interesting changes that elevate it and perfect it. The characters are all amazingly acted; Zachery Levi breathes life into dashing thief Flynn Rider (a.k.a Eugene Fitzherbert), Donna Murphy is simultaneously hilarious and frighteningly realistic in how terrifying she is, while Mandy Moore is Rapunzel. It’s ironic, actually, that this movie has such a...tangle-free story.

...I’ll show myself out.

1. Stardust (2007)

I feel like Belle put it best.

“It’s my favorite! Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise!”

While it’s honestly amazing and terrifying how well that quote describes this movie and why I love it, there’s a lot of reasons besides that. It has an amazing cast—Mark Strong, Sienna Miller, Claire Danes, Robert DeNiro, Michelle Pfeiffer, a young Charlie Cox (which, fun fact: because this movie didn’t propel him into A-List status as intended, he was able to work way more on his craft which probably allowed him to nab his role as Daredevil), and not to mention Henry Cavill in a hi-larious early role. So yes...this movie has Daredevil fighting Catwoman/Wasp, Dr. Sivana, and Superman.

But it also has a lot of cool scenes and action, great set design and lighting, and a timeless feel to it. It’s The Princess Bride of my generation. I remember when I first saw this movie I wanted to see Daddy Day Camp for some odd reason (11-year old me had horrible taste in movies), and I spent the next few years hating this movie because Michelle Pfeiffer traumatized me for such a long time. It’s only now that I’ve matured a lot more since 2007 that I’ve been able to appreciate this movie.

This movie is amazing and I love it!

Since I did NOT tag anyone else on the reblog that I’m expanding on (cause I’m an idiot), I will do it now.

The rules are simple:

10 gifs of your 10 favorite movies without the movie title. Then tag or don’t tag (it’s not mandatory to do it) others to do the same.

I’ll tag @thefingerfuckingfemalefury @lilmeier @night-gem-shit @bethanyleerose edit*@captain-shannon-becker.

#my ten favorite movies #favorite movies gif tag #personal #about me #the lost boys #bumblebee #carrie #spider man: into the spider verse #mean girls #the little mermaid #evil dead 2 #wonder woman #tangled #stardust

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readbeneaththelines · 5 years

Text

Love Hurts Pt. 1

A/N: This is a Re-Edit of a collab I did with @beautifulseoulliar a while back. I am re-editing it to share with my lovelies that love BTS. This is a multi P.O.V. Each person will be mentioned before their part. This is Angsty AF, but I loved writing it. Hope you all enjoy, and get ready, It’s a Long Ass Ride!

Synopsis: Yoongi is a tattoo artist with a broken past. Namjoon is the innocent college boy that is about to learn a few lessons. Will Namjoon teach Yoongi that love is still possible, or will he regret ever meeting the mysterious daangerous Yoongi?

Characters: Tattoo Artist!Yoongi x College Student!Namjoon

Warnings: Angst, Smut, BDSM scenerios, broken Yoongi (is that a warning?), some fluff, and I’m sure there are others (please let me know if I need to add some)

Word Count: 4690

ccr to gif owner

(Namjoon)

They say that you should never wonder on a bad day how it could possibly get worse. I guess I should have remembered that as I was trudging home, cursing waking up this morning. My day had started off bad- a missed alarm, which meant I was forced to watch from a block away as the bus drove away without me. It had simply snowballed from there, with a missing paper-laying at home on my desk, right where I’d left it so I wouldn’t forget it- to detention during last period because of the forgotten paper. I mutter under my breath, wondering just how bad it was going to get.

And of course, the clouds just had to open up on me several blocks from home. I shiver as the wind whipped past me, seeming to try and push me back. If you’d told me at this point that wind gods were trying to keep me out in the elements for as long as they could, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

When I finally get home, I unlock the door, slightly amazed that the key doesn’t break in the lock, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. The apartment is quiet, the only sound the slight tink of the sink dripping in the kitchen. I sigh, relieved that Hoseok isn’t home right now. As much as I love him-he is my best friend, after all, and has been since we were kids- I don’t feel like being bombarded with questions right now.

I toe off my shoes and drop my soaked bookbag by the door, padding across the living room and up the step to my bedroom door. Flinging it open, I enter my room, not bothering to shut the door as I strip out of my wet clothes. My phone I rescue from the back pocket of my jeans, blessing Hoseok for buying me a waterproof case for my birthday. I toss it onto my bed, then grab some pajama pants from the drawer and slip them on. Then, gathering up my wet things, I carry them to the bathroom and dump them into the washing machine. Grabbing a towel, I rub at my hair, finally just draping it over me as I head back to my room. I lay down on my bed, grabbing my phone as I sink down, making myself comfortable as I unlock the screen with my thumbprint.

1 new message.

My head starts to pound and I feel my stomach drop to my feet as I open the message and read it.

Joon, I’ve been thinking, and…

I can’t help the cry that spills from my lips as I bolt upright, throwing my phone as hard as I can across the room, where it hits my bookshelf and falls to the floor. I don’t know if I’ve broken it, but I couldn’t care less at the moment.

My day has now been crowned with a fucking cherry-my boyfriend just dumped me. Bastard. Now what am I supposed to do? I lay back down, everything inside me hurting, but I don’t cry, because that’s just not something I do. Instead, I plan to just lay here and slowly die.

(Hoseok)

Just as I'm walking in the door, I hear a loud crash coming from Joon's room as he screams.

What the hell is going on?

I scramble up the step, flinging his door open. He's lying on his bed, phone on the floor by the bookshelf, shattered screen and all.

I can tell by the look on his face, whatever was on that phone was not the best of news.

“Joonie? What's wrong?”

I walk over, sitting on the edge of his bed. I lay my hand on his shoulder, silently waiting on him to talk.

Namjoon's not much of the talking type, but sometimes, he and I can have some pretty decent conversations. We've know each other forever, having grown up in the same neighborhood. We've seen each other through some pretty fucked up things, but hey, what are friends for, right?

After several minutes of him mumbling and sighing dramatically, I was able to piece things together.

So, his jackass of a boyfriend, who I hated anyway, broke up with him. All of this, after a day from hell, that he swears will only get worse.

“Joon, my friend, what you need is a night out with me and some friends. We'll help you forget about today, what do you say? “

Pulling my best aegyo, I add with flair.

“Please, pwetty pwease? I Pwomise that you'll have fun!”

He finally agrees, only because he said my aegyo was on point.

I call up my girlfriend, then my boyfriend, and a few other mutual friends and plan a night out to remember. Little did I know, that tonight would change Namjoon forever.

(Namjoon)

I didn’t hear the sound of Hoseok coming in the front door of the apartment over the noise of my phone shattering, so when he comes bursting into my room, I wince. He glances at me, then across the room to where my phone lays in shards on the floor. His brows crease in worry.

“Joonie? What’s wrong?”

As usual, it’s hard for me to get the words out, especially when he sits down beside me, one hand resting comfortably on my shoulder. I bury my head in my hands and try to get it out. After a while, he seems to understand, both about the day I’ve been having and my boyfriend breaking up with me.

“Joon, my friend, what you need is a night out with me and some friends. We’ll help you forget about today, what do you say?”

I peek through my fingers, studying his face. He grins at me, pulling out his amazing aegyo, which always works on me.

“Please, pwetty pwease? I pwomise that you’ll have fun!”

I can’t deny that, so I nod reluctantly. Maybe a night out will be better for me than laying around the apartment. He whips out his phone when I agree, going out to the living room and closing my door halfway for privacy. He calls both his girlfriend and boyfriend, then a bunch of other friends, planning our night out. I half listen as I debate what to wear, deciding on something simple, since I’m not totally sure where we’re going or where we might wind up. I slip out of my pyjama pants and throw them on my bed for later. Then I slide into a pair of dark skinny jeans with large rips in the knees. A white t-shirt is next, and I complete it with a black-and-white striped jacket. I slip my tennis shoes on, run my fingers through my hair and observe myself in the mirror above my dresser. Not bad, but I decide to add one last thing, just because tonight I feel like I deserve it. I pull my eyeliner from my dresser drawer, where I keep it tucked safe under my socks. Lining my eyes makes them look even more amazingly cat-like than they normally do, and it’s the one vanity I allow myself. I know it gets me more looks than normal, which tonight I decide won’t be a bad thing. Smiling a little at my reflection, I turn to head out to the living room and join Hoseok.

(Hoseok)

“Alright Joonie, let's go!”

We head out the door, walking down the street to meet with our friends. Namjoon is quiet, still sulking after his shitty day. Once we are all together, we pick a club with a bass, planning on drinking our cares away and dancing with almost anything with two legs. We decided on Le Queen; even though it's a gay club by nature, everyone goes there.

The line was longer than the block, but we knew the owner. Shooting her a text, we were on the guest list before we got there. I really owe her a threesome with me and Chae. The music was blasting, sweaty bodies covering the dance floor like a crazed mass.

“Joon. Let's hit the bar first! First round’s my treat!”

The night was beginning, but I don't remember the end. Yeah for alcohol, right?

(Yoongi)

I really hate idiots. I hate dense idiots even more. I am trying to get the director in my company to see that I have to order the ink supply for the studio. My partner artists were running low, and they had clients coming thereat the end of the week. Our tattoo studio was about to open another shop and we still didn't have everything, which my director should know, but obviously didn't. Damn idiots.

After spending three hours arguing with said idiot, I was ready to explode. I was going to be late to Le Queen, having to do body art on one of the dancers before her performance. I also really hate being late, so when I got there, I headed straight for the bar to get my drink order placed while I was getting set up.

I was slightly, okay very, impatient, so I tried to ask the guy in front of me to hurry up. What preppy college kid would wear jeans and a jacket to a gay/Drag Queen club? Why would they be in this club anyway? Tapping him on the shoulder, I was about to say something when he turned around. The first thing that caught my attention was his eyes. I am a sucker for eyes, they are the window to the soul, and I always want to search someone's soul. It's a way to keep them from trying to get into mine.

His eyes were cat-like, accentuated by heavy lines of eyeliner, that made them more mysterious. He was younger than me by at least a year or maybe two, innocent looking face. Aish, poor fella, going to get himself hurt with that face. But I had to admit that he had a strangely alluring pull about him. His hair was a deep red, his bangs slightly over his eyes. His lips were a bit plump, but not too overly plump, just kind of pouty.

Going back to his eyes, I focused on them while I spoke.

“Hey, I need to place my order, can you hurry it up just a bit?”

He just kinda looked at me, turned back around and kept ordering. Little shit, if I wasn't in a hurry, I'd be busting your preppy little ass. Finally he stepped aside, and I placed my order, telling them I would be backstage, prepping for the body art.

Preppy kid had walked away, and I caught sight of something when I wound up behind him. The way his body moved when he walked, those long legs stretching with each step in not quite a strut, not not quite a sway, but a bit of sass and and I couldn't help but follow him until I absolutely had to walk backstage.

Wonder if he can dance as good as he looked. I would have to wait and find out later. Off to paint some naked body now.

(Namjoon)

Hoseok is his usual bouncy self when we leave the apartment, heading down the street to our usual meet-up spot with everyone he was able to call. As a group, we start our short walk to the club- Le Queen, a gay/drag queen club we’ve been to a hundred times before, and one of the few where I feel almost completely comfortable. Hoseok takes out his phone as the club comes into view, shooting a text to the owner, a woman he’s known a long time. I have my suspicions about their relationship, but I’d never bring it up. At any rate, the reply allows us to bypass the huge line, which I’m thankful beyond words for. I couldn’t imagine hell, but standing in line for hours after coming out to have fun might be comparable. As we entered the club, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was packed, as usual, which was usually a problem for me-I hated large crowds, but here it felt safe-there were way too many people for anyone to notice me. Hoseok turned to me, grinning, as most of our group splintered off, looking for a place to sit.

“Joon. Let’s hit the bar first! First round’s my treat!”

I nodded, giving him a small smile, and we headed for the bar. He managed to order a drink and down most of it while I was still considering. Suddenly, there was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned around, a little apprehensive for being touched. But what I came face-to-face with made my mouth go dry.

To say he was gorgeous would be a gross understatement. His blue hair was something I was instantly jealous of-I’d tried it once with my own hair, and Hoseok had called me a mermaid for a month-but it seemed to suit him. His eyes were cool behind round, wire-frame glasses, and his white shirt hung loose on his slender frame, the top two buttons undone, giving a glimpse of a tattoo across the left side of his chest. He was probably a year or two years older than me, and he had an air of danger. In short, he was like my every wet dream come to life. But something in me recognized the potential for violence in him, and it both attracted and scared me. This was the kind of man I tried to avoid-the kind that could steal my heart by barely trying and stomp it into dust. I’d seen his kind before, even had a close call a time or two, and those had been learning experiences. I knew better than to do anything other than get out of his way, as soon as possible.

“Hey, I need to place my order, can you hurry it up just a bit?”

His voice, smooth and dark as whiskey, had heat rising in my cheeks as I realized suddenly that I’d been staring. I blinked, forced myself to turn back to the bartender and choke out an order. At the same time, I was hyper-aware that he was still just behind me. I waited nervously for my drink, and when it was in my hand, I turned and walked away, without looking back. And, even though I knew it was a horrible idea, I couldn’t help but put a small sway in my walk, just a hint of sass. I giggled as I slid into the booth with my friends, keeping my head down until I couldn’t feel the heat of his eyes on me anymore.

(Hoseok)

“There’s the Joonie I know and love! What’s got you so tickled?”

Namjoon joined us at our booth, a wide grin on his face and a giggle. I don’t like seeing him where he can’t just be happy and enjoy himself. When he gets like that, I know the only thing to bring him back out of his shell is a night out. Maybe even find him a one-night stand to get him over the ex-jerkface. Did I mention I hate his ex-boyfriend? Anyway, we finished our rounds, then Chae and Jimin went to the dance floor. I love watching them together, in more ways than one, but I digress. So NAmjoon and I are left in the booth, his eyes looking around, maybe trying to find someone he wants to hook up with for the night. I just sit back and enjoy the atmosphere. Getting ready for the performance tonight. There are a couple of Queens dancing and I couldn’t wait to see it. I was also itching to get on the dance floor, so I grabbed his wrist and drug him to the center of the floor.

Man, can he dance too! Namjoon dancing, is like watching the sunrise after a storm, it enraptured me. He is fluid, graceful, and I would even admit, sensual. Everyone around us backed away, giving him room and just watched. He could get lost in it, and I was envious of him at times like these. When the music ended, he stood there breathless, and when he realized every eye was on him, he blushed and hung his head as he left the floor.

(Yoongi)

I started my painting, working on every minute detail she wanted me to add. It took my about an hour to finish her upper body, and I needed a break before finishing. I went to get another drink and stretch my limbs. I noticed people moving aside, their eyes trained on the center of the floor. I had to see what was so special that people weren’t dancing. I made my way to the upper level, pushing my way through some drunk people in my way.

When looked down, I couldn’t help but stare. The preppy college kid was dancing, and it was amazing. Those legs were… I can’t explain it. His body could hypnotize you with the way it moved to the beat. His muscles were taut under his jeans, his arms reaching out for miles. That red hair, already damp with sweat, hung over those soul catching eyes. When the music was over, he stood there like a statue, panting hard. Damn, I could make him pant harder. I shouldn’t be thinking like that, but I was. Funny thing was, when he noticed those people around him, he was suddenly shy. That’s not what happens to someone who can move like that. I had to tear my eyes away from him, but I was going to find him later.

I went back to finish my painting, but I just couldn’t keep my mind focused. Damn preppy college kid, you better not leave.

(Namjoon)

“There's the Joonie I know and love! What's got you so tickled?”

I flashed Hoseok a smile as I slid opposite of him, but refused to say anything. He squinted suspiciously at me, but didn't push. I looked around, eyeing potential one night stands, the alcohol and beat of the music making me feel a little more uninhibited. I caught him looking at me from the corner of my eye, and I turned to look at him. He tossed the remainder of his drink back, then slid out of the booth, grabbing my hand. I knew he wanted to dance, so I took another drink and followed him onto the dance floor.

The dance floor was the one place I felt completely at ease, no matter how many people were around. On the dance floor, with or without a partner, the world fell away and it was just me and the music. My body swayed and dipped, and my head fell back, eyes closed. But I could still sense Hoseok near me, and I effortlessly kept him as my anchor.

And then the heat of that stare was back. It was almost a physical touch, and it almost made me falter. I opened my eyes, looking around, body still moving, until I looked up to the balcony on the second level of the club, and the guy from the bar caught my attention. I felt a familiar spark ignite in my blood, and I knew without a doubt that if he made a move, I would be going home with him tonight.

(Hoseok)

After we finished dancing, Namjoon headed back to the booth and I stayed behind to dance with my lovers. I had seen enough, and I was ready to take them both home and have my own fun. Asking Namjoon if he was ready to head out, he told us that he was planning on staying a bit longer, that boy obviously knew what I was up to so he was being nice and letting me have the apartment for awhile. He’d come later, after everyone was either gone or asleep in my room. And that’s why I love that boy, he knows me so well.

“Alright then, we’re heading out. Call me if you need anything.”

Giving him a quick hug, we were out the door in a rush.

(Yoongi)

I finished the body painting, admired my work for a bit, then headed out to the club. I want to see the performance, I swear I do, partly, kinda. Screw it, I want to find preppy college boy and talk with him. Who knew, he could be a pretty good release for my stress after today and painting all night on a moving canvas. I scanned the dance floor, no such luck. Looking to the bar, I caught a glimpse of him in a booth towards the back. Good, he hasn’t seen me yet. I walk around the long way, making sure I stay hidden by the throngs of drunk people stumbling around and bumping into me. I swear, one more drunk idiot running into me, I will just have to go all psycho on them, and that’s not hard for me to do lately.

I make my way to the far side of the booth, sliding in beside him. I have just a few seconds to really look at him before he notices I am in his booth. He is pretty hot for a preppy college kid. This close, those eyes are extremely sexy. His jawline is perfect, and i find myself wanting to run my tongue over it. Shit, it has been way too long. That red hair gives his complexion a haunting paleness. It reminds me of coffee with almost too much cream, but you want it anyway. It’s smooth and flawless. The way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, make me want to make it bob for other reasons.

If he doesn’t talk soon, I may be having a one night stand right here, and not that I would mind that, but he probably would. Ah, he looks at me at last.

“Hey there preppy college boy. Names Yoongi, What’s yours?”

(Namjoon)

When the song ended, I made my way off the floor and back to the booth. Hoseok stayed behind, his hands on his girlfriend’s hips as she swayed to the music, and his boyfriend behind him, plastered against his back. By the blissed out look on his face, I knew that I’d be staying behind at the club while he took them home. It meant a couple more hours at the club for me, but I didn’t mind. At least my best friend was happy. Sure enough, after another half-hour, he made his way over to me, politely asking me if I were ready to go. Shaking my head, I told him to go ahead, I was going to hang out a bit longer. Winking at me, he took his leave.

“Alright then, we’re heading out. Call me if you need anything.”

He hugged me, then headed for the door. I waved as they left, then sighed as I sank into the plush back of the booth. I was tired, and I really did want to go home, but there was no way I was going to cock-block my best friend. And even if going home didn’t hinder his ability to be with his lovers, it would certainly not help my mood to hear the three of them, with our rooms sharing a wall. No, thank you, that was something I’d avoid at all costs.

I was so immersed in my thoughts that I didn’t even see him coming. Usually, with someone who has caught my interest as much as he had, I made it a point to keep tabs on them. Unfortunately, this time I let my guard down, and all of a sudden, I wasn’t alone in the booth anymore. Blinking, I realized he’d slid in across from me, and was staring at me intently, studying me. I have no idea how long he’d been there, but I could read the hunger in his eyes well enough. I had a feeling that he didn’t let people read him very often, but here he was, looking at me as if I were a particularly tasty treat. I swallow, hard, and his eyes follow the movement of my adam’s apple. When he finally speaks, the sound sends blood straight to my cock, making me half hard in an instant.

“Hey there preppy college boy. Name’s Yoongi. What’s yours?”

As far as pickup lines go, it’s kind of cheesy, and I want to laugh, but I get the feeling that that wouldn’t go over very well with him. So instead, I shrug. It’s half a protective measure, half a flirt. I don’t know if I could even answer him if I wanted to- he makes me nervous, and being nervous makes it hard for me to capture the words I want to use. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, suddenly worried that I may not be able to speak at all. And, suddenly reckless, I make a huge effort to answer him, for heaven only knows what reason. I know this is a bad idea, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“Namjoon”

(Yoongi)

So, his name is Namjoon. And that voice, it's so soft. Not like soft soft, but just the right amount of soft. As I look at him, I can tell he's getting nervous, and I secretly want to warn him that he has good reason to be.

I'm usually not as nice in the bed as I am in public, a few lovers have found that out the hard way. I like control, lots of it, and that innocence in his face tells me he hasn't been treated as rough as I like it. I hear my brain telling my crotch, guess you need to break him in. I really want to listen to my brain right now.

I feel a familiar stirring low in my gut, but if I plan on taking him home, I have a feeling I need to take it slow and play my cards right. Guess my little brain didn't get the memo, though.

“I see your friends left, need a ride home?”

(Namjoon)

“I see your friends left, need a ride home?”

A small, quiet voice inside me is telling me that accepting a ride home from this guy- Yoongi- would be the epitome of a bad idea. I usually listen to said voice- I’ve had years to learn that it’s usually the thing I should listen to when I’m making important decisions.

And if there were ever an important choice to be made, this is it.

I swallow nervously, his hot gaze staring me down, seeming to promise so many things I’d love tonight, but that I might well regret in the morning.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

I nod almost imperceptibly, then I say it out loud, just to make sure he knows I’m accepting.

“Yes, I suppose I will.”

I readjust my body, acting like I’m relaxing, when in fact I’m more aware of him than ever, waiting to see what he’ll say.

(Yoongi)

Nice! I get to take him home, but not to his place if I can convince him to come home with me.

I begin thinking, with my little brain, all that I could do to those pouty lips. I don't usually prefer the younger ones, but there is something about him that makes me want to break him. I really hope he's not as innocent as he appears, because that would make me feel bad if I cause him some pain.

I nod, getting up from the booth. When he stands up beside me, I find that he is almost my height and actually had some semblance of strength in his body. Oh boy, this could be fun.

We head out, walking the short distance in silence. I wonder what he's thinking, hopefully the same thing I am. A one night stand, that's all I need, to get today's frustrations out of my system. Rough, hard sex, just the way I like it.

“So, college boy, your place or mine?”

@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @xjamlessparkx @berryjam17

@min-shookga-yoongi @beautifulseoulliar @agustd-suga-yoongii @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi@trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570

#min yoongi #namjoon #smut #thekimlinenet #angst #yoonjoon

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stars-and-rose · 5 years

Text

|Rise and Ruin|Prolouge

(the fic for the cursed kingdom au!)

(its here!!! also how do you f o r m a t ahhh)

Fandom: Thomas Sanders/Sanders Sides

Pairings: Prinxeity and Logicality

Summary: Before her son’s tale is told... Cecilie Serein’s story needs to be shared.

Word Count: 3273

Trigger Warnings: Implied Abuse, Rape

Next>>

THE FALL AND RISE OF CECILIE SEREIN

Cecilie could not remember the exact events of her childhood, only the small details. She could remember the taste of the cookie’s the chef used to sneak to her before dinner, wrapped in her tiny hands. She could recall the sunlight peeking through the trees as her sister taught her how to read. She could remember the water that soiled the ends of her dresses when she chased after her brother. She could remember the soft silk of pale sheets that covered her body when her mother tucked her into bed.

She could also remember the red hand-prints that sometimes covered her mother's face. She could remember the harsh yelling and the soft apologizes coming from her parents' room. She recalled the scent of what she would later learn was alcohol in her father’s breath.

Cecilie always admired her mother. Her mother was always smiling, always helpful, always so graceful and poised. The one thing that soiled her mother’s image was how easy she forgave, how easily she forgave the hits and the cuts and the slurs, how easily she forgave even though she spent the nights was streams of tears racing down her face.

Her mother taught her many things, from how to sew both effectively and ornamentally, to how to blend the powders on her face to enhance her features. But the most important lesson her mother taught Cecilie was that men always had power over her.

So who could blame the young girl for being afraid when she was married to a Lord she truly knew nothing about? Sure, he seemed kind and gentle, and he was attractive, but Cecilie had learned how appearances were simply lies, meant to cover up the hideousness of the truth.

Cecilie never told her husband about her fears. She never confided the man she was supposed to love, until one day he’d asked her one simple question, a question voiced with his fear and uncertainty. “Why, my dearest, do you always look at me like I am going to harm you?”

And Cecilie broke.

She had built up walls, too afraid to let them down, too afraid of baring the same scars as her mother. And it was one sentence, sixteen words made tears pool from her eyes. Sixteen words, filled with so much love and care that it made Cecilie’s head spin. She’d melted into her husband’s arms and sobbed. He had hesitated, before slowly wrapping his arms around her, in an embrace that felt much like Cecilie’s mothers. He whispered one thing as he comforted her, and the words stayed with Cecilie to this day. “I would never hurt you.”

It was that night when Cecilie began to fall in love.

Her wonderful, amazingly kind husband never demanded anything of her. It took her two years to allow him to kiss her, and Nathaniel waited every day until she was ready. Nathaniel showered Cecilie with all the love he knew she deserved. Nathaniel took down her walls, one heavy brick at a time until Cecilie let down her guard.

Everything was well, and they began to love each other like husband and wife were meant to. Everyone around them praised the couple, seeing how much they loved another. Everything should have gone right for them. They tried for children, as both Cecilie and Nathaniel wanted them.

But Cecilie forgot that not all men were like her Nathaniel.

She had gone to a tavern, on a day when we husband was busy assisting the court. She visited a friend of hers, but when the other lady had to leave, Cecilie should have gone home. She was still young, though, and Nathaniel’s love had made her naive, so she stayed. A man sat down where her friend once sat and ordered a drink.

“I hope I’m not intruding.” The man’s voice sounded soft and kind, much her Nathaniel’s, so Cecilie remanded relaxed.

“It’s quite alright. I was just finishing my meal.”

“I just noticed you were quite the beautiful one and nothing this beautiful should have to sit alone.”

Cecilie smiled briefly at the compliment, before replying “I’m a married woman.”

“Oh, ma'am I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. Please, can I buy you a drink as an apology?”

Cecilie should have noticed the eagerness in the man’s eyes, the pure lust, but the noblewoman missed the obvious cues. “You don’t have to.”

The man smiled, much wider than was necessary. “Oh, but I insist.”

So, Cecilie allowed him to buy her a drink, and let her eye’s wander around the tavern. She didn’t notice how the man had brought a vial from his coat, didn’t notice the silvery liquid being slipped into her drink.

“Here you are.” The man handed Cecilie the drink, and she accepted it without an ounce of caution. The two conserved while Cecilie finished her drink, becoming increasingly more sluggish as she drank.

“I must be going, I’m becoming very tired.” Cecile stood to excuse herself, standing a little wobbly.

“Oh my dear, let me walk you to the door.” Cecilie’s mind, slightly muddled, ignored her fight or flight instincts screaming at her. She took the man’s hand, and let her lead her outside.

“I can mak-” The man’s grip on Cecilie tightened. “Hey!”

Cecilie made eye-contact with the man. His eyes, which had previously been a calming shade of blue, were now glowing a harsh green. A sorcerer. Cecilie’s mind was fuddled, but she tried to think. A sorcerer, his hands on her arms, his eyes glowing and she could obviously see something dark in his eyes now-

She knew what was going to happen to her before the man pressed his lips to hers, she knew before he raked his hands across her bare skin.

But she was powerless to stop him.

Afterward, she ran home and threw herself into her bath, attempting to wash away the invisible hand-prints covering her body, she scrubbed herself clean leaving her skin as red as her eyes were. Tears poured down her face and she threw the dress she’d been wearing into the fireplace.

She should have told her husband so he could find the sorcerer. Magic was illegal in the kingdom of Lytheia and the sorcerer would have been hung for both his crimes.

But Cecilie was scared. Would Nathaniel love her anymore? Would he still see the woman he loved, or a naive child who let herself get taken advantage of? Would she become a copy of her mother, with bruises and tears on her face from the man who claimed he loved her?

The fear overwhelmed her, so she kept her mouth shut. She tried to act herself but knew her husband noticed how she flinched at his simplest touches, how she avoided anything brightly green, and her utmost refusal to go to the tavern that used to be her favorite.

But Nathaniel trusted Cecilie. He thought, if something had happened to her, she would have told him.

Cecilie’s happiness was hard to find, but one day it was given to her: in the form of the medic telling her she was with a child. Cecilie’s world lit up, dimly, but it still glowed. She was going to raise a child with the man she loved the most.

Months passed, and the couple found familiarity. Cecilie was more allowing to Nathaniel’s touch, though she avoided other men’s at all costs. Husband and wife planned for their baby, and they were so ready for the child.

Then, the child was born- a healthy boy with Cecilie’s midnight locks. As soon as the infant was wrapped in Cecilie’s arms, she knew- she knew she’d die for this boy. She’d rage war, and burn cities just to keep this child safe and happy. And when Nathaniel held the child, she saw the love radiating off the man. Everything was beautiful and peaceful, just as they deserved it to be.

But everything changed when the infant opened his eyes.

His eyes were not the smooth, honey-colored eyes of Nathaniel. His eyes were not the stormy gray of Cecilie’s. The baby’s eyes were the color of the night sky when it blended with the last rays of the sun- a bright, beautiful violet.

Cecilie’s heart died in her chest.

This boy was not Nathaniel’s. No, this child was the child of the man who’d pushed Cecilie against a cold brick wall and taken too many things from her. The child was born of lust and greed and innocence and naivety, and Cecilie should have hated the child, but all she could feel was an intense love. Cecilie would still rage wars and burn cities for her newborn. She would love this child so fiercely he would never know the pain that had conceived him.

Nathaniel was looking at her, not with anger in his eyes, but confusion, and hurt. Just as it had only taken a sentence from the man to make her cry before, the simple look brought forth all the tears Cecilie had hidden away. The story came out and Nathaniel had stood their, shocked. Cecilie held her child to her breast, protecting it. This was the moment, wasn’t it? When Nathaniel would finally leave bruises on her body?

Nathaniel had cried instead.

Cecilie had sat there, shocked herself as her husband sobbed. Nathaniel’s arms wrapped around her, and he cried into her shoulder, whispering apologies. “I’m so sorry dearest..I’m so sorry..” His voice was shaky and then Cecilie started crying too. The couple sat like this, the child wrapped in his mother’s arms, and wife wrapped in her husbands, for what seemed like hours, though in truth it was only minutes. Then Nathaniel spoke.

“I’ll love him as I love you, Cecilie, dearest. I will treat him as if he was my own because, in my heart, he is.” Cecilie only cried harder.

They settled into silence for a few moments, until the baby started to cry. Cecilie whispered to her baby, trying to soothe him. After she looked into his stunning purple eyes, fear crawled up her chest again.

“Nathaniel! He has magic…. his eyes give him away… they’ll kill him..” Cecilie’s heart broke as the realization struck her. Her husband took in a sharp breath, his eyes hardening like amber. Nathaniel began to pace, whispering thoughts under his breath. Cecilie let him think, her panic growing. She would not let anyone take her child from her. She’d rather die.

“We’re close to Areece. We need to run. You’ll have to go first and go first. You take a horse and cross the border seeking asylum. I’ll gather more supplies and excuse us from the court and follow you.”

“What if they catch you?”

“It’s a risk I’ll willing to take for you, dearest.”

So they did. Cecilie gathered her baby and the most basic of necessities for the two, and Nathaniel readied her horse. Her husband stood next to her as she saddled her horse. Nathaniel handed her the child, and she held him close with her free arm. The Lord looked at his wife, his honey eyes soft with love. He took his cloak, one made of heavy black material with the house of Serein’s crossed lightning bolt crest above the heart, and wrapped it around his wife.

“Godspeed, my dearest.” He whispered to her, leaving a chaste kiss on her cheek. Cecilie smiled down at him, her tears visible on her face. Then, she kicked the horse and rode off,

She wished that she’d looked at her husband more, that she’d memorized his features more, that she’d reminded Nathaniel how much she loved him.

Because that was the last time she’d ever see her first love.

It would be almost two decades later when she’d learn of Nathaniel’s fate, and all those years later, Cecilie would cry for him.

But in those moments, Cecilie's concerns were only on getting her newborn son to safety. She succeeded, she crossed the border from Lytheia to Areece in a few day’s time. She stayed in a small town near the border, and waited for her husband. A week passed. Then another. Nathaniel never showed. Cecilie’s money was getting low and she needed a way to support her child.

A way showed up at the door of the inn she was staying in, in the form a woman with fiery red hair and shining silver eyes. A witch. Cecilie had slammed the door on her face.

“Hey! Wait, Miss, I want to help you!”

Cecilie held her baby to her chest. “Why would you want to help me?”

“You’re an alone young woman with a child. Why wouldn’t I want to help?” The witch had a soft voice, but there was a stubborness in it.

“You have nothing to gain from helping me.”

“Um, no, that’s why it’s called helping. Besides, your child has such a strong magical aura, I can feel it from across the village. Someone with not as kind intentions as me is going to show up at your door and they aren’t going to take no as an answer.”

Cecilie thought about it. She had spent her life surrounded by a court filled with liars and fools, and after the last time she’d let her guard down, Cecilie had become good at judging people’s intentions. This witch, she seemed to actually have pure intentions. Cecilie was also alone in a foreign country. She could use the help. Nathaniel would understand.

Cecilie sighed and opened the door. The silver-eyed witch was still there, and those silver eyes glinted with happiness as Cecilie looked at her. “You promise you are not going to take advantage of me?”

The witch nodded vigorously. “I swear on the moon and stars.”

Cecilie let her in.

The witch noticed the child still in Cecilie’s arms. “Awe, he’s so cute! What’s his name?”

Cecilie flushed in embarrassment. She had been so frantic about getting them to safety and keeping them alive, she had forgotten to name the child. What kind of mother was she? Cecilie looked into her child’s violet eyes and remembered a name Nathaniel had brought up. She had pushed the name away at the time, claiming it was too eccentric. Now, she decided the name fit perfectly.

“His name is Virgil.”

The witch let out a squeal. “That’s a pretty name! You’re going to grow up to be just as pretty as your name and your mama aren’t you?” She cooed at Virgil, who looked up at the witch with his stunning eyes. “Oh, speaking of names, I’m Priya!”

Cecilie gave her a soft smile. “My name is Cecilie Serein.”

“Isn’t that a Lytheian last name?”

Cecilie flinched. “Ah, yes. We’re from Lytheia.” The rest of the story was left unsaid, but Priya seemed to put the pieces together easily.

“Okay then! I live a few day’s journey south, near the ocean. If we leave tomorrow, we should get there at the same time my lilies will be in full bloom.

Cecilie was startled. “Wait… you’re inviting us to come with you?”

“Yes! My home is so lonely, it’ll be nice to live with others?”

“You’re inviting me, a stranger with a newborn, to live with you?”

“Can you cook?”

Cecilie was startled by the random question. “Ah, yes I can.”

“Then, yes! I’m inviting you to live with me.”

There was something about the lively witch that had made Cecilie want to know her. Maybe it was the warmth radiating off her, maybe it was how easily she’d decided to help a random woman. Cecilie, a woman who trusted no one, trusted Priya.

So she agreed to go with her.

It was quite possibly the best decision of her life.

Priya lived in a small town by the ocean. The witch’s cottage was close to the forest so she could grow her garden. Everyone in the village loved the witch. Children ran up to her and asked her to do magic tricks for them, mothers asked her for herbs to help with headaches, and men thanked her for helping them deal with stray curses. The village opened its arms for Cecilie and Virgil, too. The local seamstress allowed Cecilie to work with her without a second thought, and other mothers watched Virgil when Cecilie or Priya was busy.

They grew close, Cecilie and Priya. Cecilie thought of Priya as an amazing friend and woman. Then, her viewpoint shifted dramatically.

Virgil was about ten years old, and Priya was standing outside with him. Cecilie had been making cookies- shortbread, both Priya and her son’s favorite. Just as Cecilie had laid the treats in the stone oven, she’d looked over her shoulder and noticed the two. Priya was whispering something to the young warlock, who was nodding at her. Cecilie watched as the witch stepped back and as Virgil closed his eyes. Nothing happened for a moment. Then, violet light swirled from Virgil’s fingertips, dancing in the air around him. Priya let out a squeal of delight, and Virgil opened his eyes and smiled so brightly at his magic, it melted Cecilie’s heart. Then, Priya hugged Virgil and the boy hugged back and Cecilie’s heart melted again and she knew, oh heavens above she knew.

Cecilie was in love with Priya.

It had taken her a while to process the thought, and even longer to accept it. She was still married to Nathaniel, but her husband hadn’t appeared. It had been a decade, and Cecilie feared the worst. But she had no proof, so shouldn’t she stay loyal to him? The answer should have been yes, but Cecilie knew what Nathaniel would tell her, “Do what makes you happy, dearest.”

Priya made Cecilie happy. She knew what she needed to do.

It took her about a year to gather her courage, and when she finally confessed, it had been on accident. Priya had gotten hurt because she’d caught a child who’d fallen from a barn. Cecilie was bandaging the witch, fussing over her when the phrase slipped out. “Goodness, if I didn’t love you so much I’d yell at you for getting hurt yet again..” The words had already been said when Cecilie comprehended the statement. Priya tensed under her fingertips.

“You… love me?” The witch’s voice was faint and uncertain, the first time Cecilie could recall her sounding so unsure. Cecilie let out a weak laugh.

“That… was not how I was planning to tell you.”

Priya laughed, and Cecilie decided it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. “Aren’t you lucky I love you too?”

Cecilie decided that night she was a lucky woman. She had a lovely son who was as kind as he was talented. She had fallen in love with an amazing man, and she was lucky enough to be able to fall in love again with an amazing woman.

The next eight years of Cecilie’s life were the happiest. She married Priya, knowing in her heart Nathaniel would have wanted her to. She watched as Virgil grew into a beautiful young man, and a powerful warlock- even though he preferred to keep his powers hidden.

Virgil was eighteen when Priya asked him to deliver a package of herbs to a woman in the nearby kingdom of Craea. Virgil had agreed easily, and after he was off, Cecilie noticed the look of happiness on her wife’s face. “What is it, darling?”

“Virgil isn’t going to come home immediately.” Priya hummed softy. “He has a dangerous journey ahead, but he’ll come out victorious. Also,” Priya’s eyes gleamed. “he is going to find love.”

TAGLIST:

@sanders-trash-4ever

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@residentanchor

@soft-transboy

@no-no-no-no-6

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madamebaggio · 5 years

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Chapter 8

The next morning Jon was feeling… Normal. There wasn’t anything different about him at all. Maybe he was just a little bit less frowny. And a few maids were swearing to the old and new gods that they’d seen the king grinning, but nobody was sure about that.

Jon didn’t feel different at all. It was just another day at Winterfell.

Then, just as he was reaching the open grounds, he turned a corner and found Edmund, who had his arms crossed and that Pevensie arched brow.

Fuck.

“Good morning, lord Edmund.” He offered carefully.

The brow remained where it was. “You were flirting with my sister.”

“What? Of course I wasn’t!” The mere notion was preposterous.

“Yes, you were!” The young man accused. “What do you recommend to encourage affection?” Edmund repeated the words from the previous night.

“I was merely taking part on the conversation.” Jon defended himself.

“Listen, I’ve seen that look before…”

“What look?” Jon demanded.

“The star-struck one when men look at her.” Edmund offered flatly.

Jon had never heard anything more absurd on his whole life. Not even when Lord Reed came knocking on his door to let him know he was a Targaryen.

“Fire!” A feminine voice ordered somewhere on the training fields.

The two men traded looks and went in search of Susan -because it was obviously her voice.

She had her archers-in-training practicing on stationary targets.

“Here, Will.” She put herself behind one of the younger boys, then she corrected his posture. “Try again.”

When she turned around, most of the other men had slouched their postures. “If I have to correct another one of you, he’ll be used as target.” She informed them sweetly.

Everybody got back in the proper position in seconds.

“That is the look I’m talking about, Jon.” Edmund said dryly from his side.

Jon cleared his throat before turning to the younger man. “I have a deep admiration for your sister, but it has nothing to do with… That.” He finished weakly.

It was obvious that Edmund didn’t believe him for a second.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Edmund, honestly, I…”

“Fine.” Edmund cut him. “I believe in you. Somewhat.” He added grumbly. “I just want you to know that she is my sister and I love her. That means that I don’t care if you are a king, a man who came back from the dead or whatever. You hurt her and I’m going to kill you. Slowly.”

Jon tried not to grin. “I can respect that.”

Edmund gave him a firm nod, glad they understood each other.

Jon’s eyes wandered back to Susan. She was looking directly at them, a suspicious look on her face. He just gave her a nod. She arched a brow at him -really, it was a family thing – before nodding back.

Edmund was mad. There was no flirting there.

XxX

“Ouch! Ouch! Sue!”

Susan ignored her older brother’s complaints and kept pulling him around by the ear. A pair of maids giggled at the scene and some men snickered as the two siblings passed them.

Susan eventually found an empty room and pushed her brother inside.

“Good Lord, Susan, was that really necessary?” Peter whined, massaging his abused ear.

“You better start explaining yourself.” She informed him. “Now!”

“What did I do?” He wanted to know.

“What do you think you’re doing with Sansa?” She demanded.

Peter sighed. “Sue…”

“I’m serious, Peter! I like Sansa very much and she’s been through enough.”

“I know!” Peter protested. “I’m also aware that I don’t know everything, but I assure you, Susan, I’m not playing with her.”

Susan didn’t really think he was. Peter might have his flaws, but he was never the type of man to go around with women for fun. He was a bit of a flirt, but in a surprisingly innocent way. He’d never played with a lady’s feelings. She didn’t believe he was about to start with Sansa’s.

However, as Sansa’s friend and confident, Susan knew way more about her past than any of her siblings. She knew exactly what type of men Sansa had been forced to be with, what had been done to her.

Sansa also had admitted that, even though Peter hadn’t done anything to her, he was a scary mixture of all the nightmares in her life: he was a blonde king, carrying a lion on his chest and with a name that still made Sansa sick.

Honestly, Susan was surprised she hadn’t asked Jon to lock Peter away.

However, she had also realized that Sansa was, not only extremely strong, but she was also amazingly kind. She’d never condemn Peter because he looked like the monsters of her past. But she was still unable to see past that.

Susan didn’t judge Sansa for that. Only she knew the horrors she’d faced alone: just a little girl, far from her family, away from her home… Sansa was a survivor in a very cruel world. She had the right to protect herself however she saw fit.

And Susan was going to make damn sure her brother understood that.

“Peter, be honest with me.” She asked him, looking into his eyes. “What are you doing?”

Peter sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “At first, I thought her beautiful.” He admitted. “That very first night, when we got here and talked to the King, this is what I thought. Then I started observing her.

“You were keeping an eye in all of them, weren’t you?”

“I was.” Peter admitted. “I didn’t know if I could trust any of them, I didn’t want to take chances.”

“I know, Peter.” She assured him.

“The more I watched her…” He sighed again. “The more I admired her. She’s so…” He took a deep breath. “She’s good. She’s so… Completely…”

Susan watched her brother, amusement all over her face.

“She’s beautiful, I’ll admit. But it’s not only that.” He insisted. “She’s intelligent, charming, smart, kind… I could go all day, Susan.”

“Oh Lord, Peter, you’re in love.” She was surprised by that.

“I wouldn’t say it out loud.” Peter confessed. “I wish to be very certain of my feelings before I go around talking about them, because I don’t want her to feel like she owes me any kind of answer. Right now, the only thing I know for a fact, is that I see her in a way I’ve never seen another before. There’s something about Lady Sansa that it’s bewitching.”

Well, that was unexpected.

“I feel that if I don’t keep my eyes open, she’ll steal my heart away and I’ll let it go happily.”

“Aslan be blessed, Peter, you’re making poetry now.”

He groaned. “Susan! I’m serious.”

“I’m sorry.” She said honestly. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Neither was I.” Peter mumbled.

“I believe you.” Susan assured him. “And I think it’s good that you decided to wait more time, to understand better how you feel. Sansa deserves a man that knows exactly what he wants, a man who won’t waste her time.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“Also…” Susan took a deep breath. “This isn’t my story to tell, Peter, but Sansa has suffered too much already. If you ever decide to court her, you better be on your best behavior and treat her like a queen.”

“I’ll do exactly that.” He assured her.

“Good.” Susan nodded. “But don’t take too long. Sansa has many suitors.”

“Susan, please.” He gave her that arrogant smirk that she loved to hate. “I can take care of myself.”

Susan snorted. She hoped that Sansa made Peter grovel.

XxX

“What are you planning, little lady?”

Lucy gave Arya her most beatific smile. “What do you mean?”

Arya snorted. “Don’t even try. I can see right through that cute face of yours.”

Lucy huffed delicately. “How absurd. I’m an exemplary member of this…”

“Cut the dramatics, Lucy.” Arya snickered. “Tell me.”

Lucy sighed. “I think you won’t like it.” She admitted.

Arya just gave her a look, that made very clear her patience was running thin.

“It’s about your sister.” Lucy alerted.

If nothing else that made Arya even more curious. “Just say it.”

“I really think she should court Peter. I mean, let him court her. You know, court each other.” Lucy said in a hush.

“Fuck no!” Arya replied immediately. “I like you and Ed a lot, Lucy, but your older brother is a prick.”

“He’s not so bad, I promise!” Lucy hurried to defend him. “Peter is a bit arrogant –I’ll admit –but he has a good heart and he’s a good man.”

“No.” Arya was adamant.

“But…”

“No!” Her voice was final.

“So that means no Susan and Jon either?” She asked dejectedly.

“Wait, what?” Arya was now truly dumfounded.

“Oh come on! They were flirting the other night.” Lucy insisted.

Arya snickered. “Flirting? Jon?”

“Yes! All that talk about dancing…”

“No way.” Arya denied.

“I know what I saw.” Lucy insisted.

Arya rolled her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see them actually dancing.” She said sarcastically.

“That can be arranged…” Lucy tapped her index finger against her chin.

Arya gave her a wary look. “What are you planning now, little lady?”

“I think we should have a feast!”

XxX

Of course, something had to happen. Things had gone too well for too long.

It was only logical that –at some point –something would happen.

To be fair, it wasn’t that bad, even if it was a bit embarrassing. But Susan still wasn’t happy to have to break a fight that her own brother started.

It all started with Lucy’s strange idea for a feast.

Now, you can’t play a player, so as soon as she came up with the idea, Susan and Sansa shared a look. Something was going on in her sister’s beautiful mind.

Susan knew Lucy well enough to know that she was brave and a romantic. They had no battles to prepare for –at least not for right now –which meant she wasn’t trying to raise the morale of the men. This was something else.

This was Lucy being romantic and wanting to play matchmaker. The question was… Who was she matchmaking?

The logic answer would be Sansa and Peter, but… Susan didn’t think it was the case.

Sure, she knew –by Edmund –that Lucy was really interested in seeing that happen. Edmund even told her that he had talked to Lucy about it and recommended that she waited a bit.

Susan knew it was possible that Lucy was waiting, the same way it was possible she’d just ignored Edmund all together and done whatever she wanted to begin with, but still…

There was something there.

Susan was going to find out what during the feast.

It all started very well. Everybody was happy; dancing, eating and just being merry for a while. They all deserved it.

Lucy had insisted on music. In fact, she’d insisted so much on it, that Susan knew it was part of her plan. Then it occurred to her: Jon. Jon had talked about dancing and… She had talked about dancing.

Oh no. Oh no.

Her baby sister better not be matchmaking her with Jon. The mere idea was preposterous, absolutely ridiculous.

She was going to kill Lucy!

No, she was overreacting. There was no way that this was Lucy’s plan. It made no sense.

Besides, she knew very well it was impossible to matchmake a couple that can’t be matched. Jon was a great man, but he wasn’t for her, so Susan didn’t need to worry.

She should have thought of everything else that could have possibly go wrong, but she was only human.

Peter and Edmund had been talking and drinking with the Free Folk by one of the smaller tables. The men had started accepting Peter more after he proved he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. Lucy was still the favorite Pevensie among them, but they respected all of them.

Lucy was pulling Davos to dance a song with her, and Susan had just stopped by to check if her brothers weren’t too drunk.

She’d just turned her back when she heard one of the men saying, “That sister of yours is mighty pretty. One of these days I might climb her window and steal her for me.”

Susan just took a deep breath and decided to let it slide for now. It wasn’t the moment to start something over a comment like that. Besides, she knew that the Free Folk had this costume: men would try to steal a bride and the woman would fight him.

She decided not to react, but Peter didn’t have the same patience. She heard Edmund calling his name a second before she heard a crash. Susan turned in time to see the other men trying to pry Peter away of his opponent.

The crash she had heard was the table, because Peter had actually picked the man up and thrown on him the table. The wood couldn’t take it and broke in the middle.

“Peter!” Susan hurried over to them, just as Edmund and Tormund managed to hold Peter.

He was still fighting to get free. “You don’t ever talk about my sister like that again!” He bellowed, still pulling against his captors.

“Peter!” Susan yelled on his face. “Out, now!” She ordered, pointing at the doors that lead to the hallways.

“He said…”

“I heard what he said, Peter.” Susan cut him. “Now get out!”

Peter gave her a look, his eyes on flame, but pressed his lips on a hard line and nodded. Edmund and Tormund let him go and he left the place.

“Sue…”

“Go talk to Jon.” She asked Edmund. “You know why he did it. Explain to the King.”

“What are you going to do?” Ed wanted to know.

“I’ll talk to Peter and make sure he doesn’t get in anymore trouble. Assure His Grace that he’ll apologize formally tomorrow once he’s sober.”

“Sue…” Ed held her hand for a minute. “I know you’re angry, but you also know why he did it.”

“I know, Ed.” She assured him. “Now I have to go.”

Susan left after her brother and Edmund sighed.

“What the fuck, little man?” Tormund asked, scratching his chin.

“I need to talk to Jon.” Ed sighed.

“I’m very curious to listen to you.”

Both men turned and found Jon right there, an immensely displeased look on his face. Lucy was beside him, a look of deep worry on her face. Arya and Sansa were a bit behind them, and nobody looked happy.

“Should I look for Peter?” Lucy asked.

“No. Sue is with him.” Edmund took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry for this, Your Grace. You can be damn sure that he’ll be apologizing a lot tomorrow; to you and your family and to Greval. And he’ll also take whatever punishment you see fit.”

Jon made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I want to know why he attacked Greval.”

Edmund gave Lucy a worried look, and that made her stare at him confused. “Ed?”

“Greval said… He’d like to steal Susan.” Edmund finally said.

Lucy covered her mouth. “Oh no.”

“What?” Arya wanted to know. “It’s one of their costumes.”

“Yes, but Susan was stolen from us once.” Edmund admitted, his voice low.

“Excuse me?” Jon’s voice was rough.

“There was a prince that wished to marry her.” Edmund explained. “I traveled with her to his land to consider the proposal. When it became obvious the kind of man he was, we decided to stop the negotiations and leave. We were almost back to Narnia when they found us and took her away.”

“He forced her through the wedding ceremony.” Lucy’s voice was small and full of pain. “Made an unwilling priest celebrate it. But he was worried it might not be enough to consider it valid, so he decided to… Consummate the wedding.”

Sansa gasped behind them. “Did they?” She wanted to know.

“No.” Lucy assured her quickly. “She sunk a fork on his neck, and that was how we found her when we broke into the castle. She was sitting on the bed, dress drenched in blood, staring at his body.”

“The thing is…” Edmund cleared his throat. “Susan asked Peter to accompany her to that trip. But we were having problems with giants, so he said to her this was more important than marrying her off.”

“We never thought something like this was going to happen!” Lucy hurried to say. “But Peter feels it was solely his fault. He believes that if he’d been there, he could have prevented it. He could have spared her the suffering.”

“So a man says he wants to steal your sister…” Arya started.

“He couldn’t control himself. Even though he should have.” Edmund hurried to say. “Your Grace…”

“Tomorrow, I’ll hear what Peter has to say for himself.” Jon cut the other man simply. “For now… We’re in a feast, let us make sure the others are enjoying it.”

XxX

Susan found her brother staring at the night sky. She took a deep breath before she approached him, the last thing she wanted was to fight with her brother right now.

Even if he probably deserved a slap.

She pulled her fur coat tighter around herself before she came to stand by his side. She didn’t say a word, he might as well speak first.

“I’m so sorry, Sue.” He finally sighed.

“What for?” She wanted to know.

“Fighting.” He offered.

“You think that’s why I’m upset?” She asked, turning to him.

“It is not?” He was a bit confused.

“I can’t say I’m not upset over that.” She admitted. “We’re mere guests here, we stay by the grace of the King. We don’t have the luxury of getting into petty fights.”

“Petty? Susan, he said…”

“That been said…” Susan cut him firmly. “It’s not why I’m upset.”

“Then why?” Peter asked carefully.

“How do you think I feel, having to give you comfort time and time again, for something that actually happened to me?” She had to be very careful not to snap at her brother, because she wasn’t trying to fight with him.

However, she was tired of having to tell Peter time and time again that it was fine, and everything that had happened with the Calormenes wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t, but that was not the point.

She had been kidnapped, forced into a wedding ceremony, almost raped. Why was she telling Peter everything was alright?

“I…” Peter stammered for a little bit, before closing his mouth, completely at a loss for words.

“You feel bad about what happened, because you care about me. I understand that.” She told him softly. “But I’m exhausted of having to tell you this. Of having to think about how you feel, when I can barely sleep some nights, scared that he might come back, or that I might dream about his dead eyes on me.” Her voice was a broken sound by the end.

“Susan…” Peter murmured completely shocked. “I’m so sorry.” He hugged her, pulling his sister to his arms. “I’m such an idiot.” He kissed her forehead and sighed.

“I’m not going to argue with you.” She informed him, her voice heavy with tears.

Peter chuckled. “You are the smart one.” He sighed again. “But I am sorry, Susan, for being so selfish.”

“You’re not selfish, Peter, you’re just… Self-absorbed.”

“Ouch!” He chuckled. “Just tell me what you really think, Sue.”

She chuckled too. “Sorry.” She turned to him and gave him a gentle smile. “No more jumping into fights to defend my honor, alright? I don’t need it and it puts me on the spot.”

“I promise.” He spoke seriously. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t waste all your apologies on me. Tomorrow you’re apologizing to the King.”

Peter groaned. “Great. I don’t like him.”

“It’s fine. I don’t think he likes you either.” She offered him patronizingly.

Peter wondered if his sister truly understood what he meant. Because he was pretty sure Jon didn’t like him for the exact same reason he didn’t like the King in the North: because his eyes were on his sister.

Notes: Peter is getting sickly romantic, but I can't seem to help myself.

Greval is just a random name that a Free Folk name generator suggested... lol

Also, I know I changed A LOT the whole situation with Susan and Rabadash. I did this to create a deeper bond of understadning between Sansa and Susan. I am NOT using the "rape as a wy to make the woman look stronger" bullshit, because I despise that. Susan is strong because she's an intelligent, caring and amazing woman.

Let me know your feelings.

#madame baggio #fanfiction #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #OOC #game of thrones #The Chronicles of Narnia #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #jon snow #jon snow x susan pevensie #peter pevensie x sansa stark #gifs not mine #the spring that thaws winter

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