#and even though me personally........in theory it bothers me when men are my sisters age

[shirkers2018dirsanditan]

my toxic trait is if i saw a 30-32 year old man hooking up with a 23 year old woman i'd be like that guy is such a loser........but if i saw a 30-32 year old woman hooking up with a 23 year old man i'd be like [tiktok youth voice] she got herself a young king purr 💅🏾 even though when i was trying to date i did increase my hinge age limit to 32 and i'll be 24 on friday. lol

#and even though me personally........in theory it bothers me when men are my sisters age #actually anyone women too #she's two years younger so if you're born in 2001.......i can't........ #AFTER? Bye #speaking of my sister that tiktok youth is literally how she talks #that's exactly something she'd say.....lmao

[jaimeslanisters]

the pawn in every lover's game (part two)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

when you’re ten, your father sends you to king’s landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. a lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 3.7k notes: this fic is blending show and book canon btw! just really picking and choosing what i want! also this goes out to everyone else who is stressed about taylor swift tickets going on presale tomorrow. wishing everyone luck! (also let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list)

At Casterly Rock, your younger sister Jeyne fancied herself something of a playwright. She would write little skits, based on songs and fairy tales, and she would beg and beg for you and your older sisters to participate. Cerelle usually begged off - she was always so busy with your lady mother, always focused on the possibility that she could be her father’s heir if a son didn’t come soon - but you and Tyshara always caved into Jeyne’s wishes. Tyshara was awkward acting, forever fearful of looking silly, but you always threw yourself wholeheartedly into your roles, acting your heart out with a passion that rivaled actual actors. Your youngest sister, Joy, would clap and cheer as she watched though you were never certain that she actually understood what was happening.

Joy would certainly be clapping your performance now.

With a practiced step, you turn the corner in the library and let out a small gasp, looking to all the world as if you are utterly stunned to see another person hidden behind stacks and stacks of books. Aemond looks up at the sound, quill slowing in his hand, and you quickly drop into a curtsey. 

“My apologies, my prince,” you say, embuing fluster into your words. “I did not expect to find anyone else here.”

Aemond rises to his feet, bowing his head slightly. “It’s no problem,” he replies, eyes flitting down to the book in your arms. “Are you reading Watchers on the Wall?”

You nod, moving closer. “After you mentioned it last week, I decided to try it.”

“And? What did you think?”

“Fascinating,” you breathe out, not faking your enthusiasm. Whenever you weren’t with Helaena, you were absolutely neck-deep in the thick tome. “To be honest, I’m only well versed in Westerlands history. I’ve never really studied the stories of the wall and I didn’t really know much, if anything, of the Nightfort.” 

Aemond looks cautiously pleased. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

You smile, nodding your head and moving to stand next to the prince’s table. “It seems impossible that something could be so old, so filled with magic. I sometimes doubt the Others ever existed or that the Long Night ever happened.”

He raises a brow. “You’re a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Your bloodline traces back to the Age of Heroes and the Rock is even older than that. Is it really so surprising that things can be ancient?”

“You’re not wrong, my prince, but reading Watchers on the Wall, you can swear that the Wall is older than my family’s seat of power even though they were both established around roughly the same time. It certainly seems that way with all the magic.” You slide into a seat and note with pleasure that Aemond leans closer. “Casterly Rock isn’t known for being magical, after all, and whatever magic is in the wall has to be older than even the First Men.”

Aemond nods, reaching for the book in your hands, and tugging it his way, flipping it open. “What part did you get to?”

“The story of the Night’s King. I admittedly got caught up in it and bothered Maester Rodrik about it. He’s from the North, you know, so I figured he would have more information about the Night’s King and his corpse queen.”

He looks at you, a glimmer in his eyes telling you that he’s excited about new knowledge. You glow with pride. “And what did Maester Rodrik say?”

“He said that there are loads of theories about who the Night’s King actually is. Some say he was a Bolton or an Umber. Maester Rodrik told me that there are even claims that he was a Stark, the very brother of Brandon the Breaker who would ally with Joramun, the King Beyond the Wall, to save the North from his magic. After his defeat, the two Kings found evidence of some dark magic with the Others, and his name was erased from history for the shame of it.”

Aemond tilts his head. “Interesting. Wouldn’t that make it more likely that the Night’s King was a Stark?”

“Why would that be, my prince?” You ask.

“If the Night’s King was King Brandon’s brother, and Brandon was the one to strike him down, that would make Brandon the Breaker a kinslayer - even if it was for a good cause - and no one is as accursed as the kinslayer.”

“So you think that they erased the Night’s King's name to protect King Brandon from the shame?”

He nods, slowly as if he’s still thinking through his analysis. “It would make sense. If it was any other house, it might have done them some good to expose who it was, to solidify the strength of House Stark in the North.”

You shrug. “The Starks are the oldest Great House in Westeros. Their line has never been broken. They didn’t need to solidify their position in the North. They had held it for thousands of years prior and they continue to hold it even now.”

“Wherever there’s strength, others will always seek to steal it,” Aemond says, clearly parroting someone. “Maybe this great lie is what they needed to ensure their line would not break. Who would marry into a kinslaying family otherwise?”

You laugh at that. “I imagine there are a great deal more kinslayers in the history of the Seven Kingdom than anyone would like to believe. I’m sure there are kinslayers in every line.” You want to bring up the rumors of Queen Visenya and how people whispered that she murdered her own nephew to elevate her son to the throne but you hold back. Critiquing a founding member of his family might not endear you to him. 

Aemond hums in response. “Did Maester Rodrik say anything about the corpse queen?”

“Nothing really. Some people think she was an Other but Maester Rodrik says she was probably the daughter of a Barrow King and people simply exaggerated her pale skin and blue eyes.”

He taps his fingers on the table. “Makes sense. It would tie in with the idea that the Night’s King was magic. His bride was magic and so he did magic and cursed the North. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“It makes sense but it’s not nearly as interesting.”

It disappears in a flash but Aemond grins at you and you straighten up, impossibly pleased. “You’re right. It isn’t.” With a hum, he pushes the book back to you and turns to look at his own books and notes splayed out in front of him.

As you move to get up, feeling dismissed, he glances back at you. “If you’re not busy, you can stay and read some more. There are other stories in the book that I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on.”

You smile, sliding back in your seat.

——————————–

After you and Helaena finish your lessons and the septa, a pious and strict woman, sweeps out of the room, the princess turns to you with a smile that you can only classify as mischievous.

“Would you like to come to the Dragonpit with me?” She asks, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “I haven’t flown Dreamfyre in a while.”

You pause, midway through putting up your lesson books. “You flew with her yesterday, my princess.”

Helaena laughs, the sound soft and tinkling. “And it’s been a while since then. Dreamfyre and I are bonded. I can feel her even now.”

“Are all bonds like that?” You ask, thinking of the glimpses of dragons you’ve seen from a distance. Every time you saw them, you always had to fight the urge to hide, paranoid of the massive beasts that had conquered and bent Westeros to the will of their masters. 

She shakes her head. “Some. Not all. Aegon has the strongest bond I’ve ever seen with Sunfyre while there are stories of some members of my family not being too attached to their dragons. Even still, they’re a part of us.”

You nod slowly, finishing up your task as you think to yourself. In the past few weeks of meeting Aemond in the library, you had never once dared to bring up his lack of dragon though you knew it had to bother him greatly. Sometimes your meetings would line up with his training sessions at the Dragonpit and he would always return, sullen and angry and snappish. The first time it happened, you had asked him to clarify some part of the story of how House Baratheon was founded and he had rolled his eyes, muttering some obscenity you couldn’t fully make out under his breath in lieu of responding. You had stormed off, knowing if you had stayed, you would have fought back in rage and said something that could damage your tentative friendship.

To your surprise, the next time you had gone to see him in the library, prepared to swallow your pride and apologize just to land back in his good graces, he had actually apologized to you. You had sat stunned as he somehow stumbled his way through an apology, giving the distinct impression that he had never found a need to apologize to anyone outside of his family before. It had been a supremely awkward affair but you had accepted his apology and the rest of your time together went without a hitch.

The incident had taught you two things; that Aemond might genuinely consider you something resembling a friend since even if he was in a foul mood after the Dragonpit, he never again took it out on you and that you shouldn’t ever discuss anything remotely resembling his lack of a dragon. 

As it stood, you had yet to venture with Helaena to the Dragonpit. You usually spent that time reading or observing Uncle Tyland at work. He was always willing to let you read whatever you were allowed to from his duties as Master of Ships. Back at Casterly Rock, you were hardly ever permitted to follow your father the few times he managed to get around to performing his duties. Your mother usually managed the work Lord Jason never did but Cerelle typically accompanied her and you always felt like you were getting in the way next to your sister with her intense drive to be the perfect heir if the duty fell to her.

“Dreamfyre is more than large enough to seat you with me if you’d like,” Helaena teases and you wince.

“Forgive me, princess, but I fear I’d make a rather embarrassing display if I were on top of a dragon.” 

Helaena tilts her head, eyes unnaturally bright. “Lions will ride dragons someday.”

You snort. “Perhaps but that day will not be today. I will go with you but I will not be getting on a dragon with you.”

She smiles brightly at you. 

——————————–

You fight down the urge to run as you trail behind Helaena who is practically bouncing into the Dragonpit. At the massive gates, a pair of dragonkeepers wait for the pair of you, forcing a smile on your face as you nod your head at them. Helaena greets them in High Valyrian and you stare up at the Dragonpit, tuning them out. It is truly a massive structure, looming so far up in front of you it hurts your neck to crane it back. Inside you can hear the occasional thundering roar and it sends shivers down your back.

Logically, you know you need to get over this fear. Your future seems tightly woven in with the Targaryens at this point. If you succeed in securing a marriage with Aemond, your own children will be dragonriders. Even if you fail, it’s hard to imagine a future where you aren’t by Helaena’s side in the Red Keep. Still, a small, treasonous voice in the back of your head whispers that dragons weren’t meant to be here, that no single person should hold that much power.

“Are you ready?” Helaena cheerfully calls and you jolt back to attention. She’s beaming at you, looking more alive than you’ve ever seen her. 

You nod, clearing your throat. “Of course, Helaena.”

You’re a lioness of the Rock. You will not cower before the dragons. 

Helaena and the dragonkeepers lead you in. You walk with your head high, pushing down your nerves as far as you can. The interior is practically cavernous but that only means that the rumblings of the dragons echo even more, surrounding you completely. Inside the massive domed pit, you can see that you’re not alone. Across the Pit, you can spot the princes, all of them, grouped together near a few dragonkeepers. Aegon is laughing with the Velaryon princes Jacaerys and Lucerys. Aemond stands alone, face serious as he stares down even deeper into the Dragonpit. 

The noise your entrance makes draws all of their attention and Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys wave, making an absolute spectacle of themselves. You nod your head back, saving a smile for when Aemond tips his head at you and Helaena. 

“Come now,” Helaena calls to you, her hand brushing your arm gently. You do your best not to gasp in shock at the surprise touch. “Dreamfyre awaits.”

Bowing your head, you follow behind as she heads into the Dragonpit, away from the main floor. Below the dome, the Dragonpit is little more than passages carved in stone, close and claustrophobic. 

“Stay by my side, my lady,” a dragonkeeper says to you, bowing his head when you glance over at him. “Dreamfyre may not be pleased with your presence.”

“She won’t hurt you,” Helaena reassures you, not even looking back as she determinedly heads deeper and deeper into the twisting tunnels. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone I care about.”

You manage a smile at that. “ I’m glad to be one of those cherished few then, my princess.”

Eventually, you reach an area where the cave opens up. The opening is lit by a few torches but the cave is so massive that you can’t even see to the back. Dauntless, Helaena walks deeper in, her silver hair a beacon in the dark. You stay back, half-hidden behind the dragonkeepers, poised to bolt back into the relative safety of the tunnels if something were to go wrong. 

“Dreamfyre!” The princess shouts before continuing in High Valyrian. There’s a moment of silence, where you hold your breath and steel your nerves before it feels like the very air vibrates around you, the low growl of a dragon responding shaking you down to your very bones. Deep in the dark, there’s a low red glow before the temperature skyrockets and a dragon, massive and shining a brilliant blue even in this dank cave, breathes out fire to the ceiling, the flames spreading.

Helaena laughs, absolutely delighted, and walks even closer to Dreamfyre. Your mind tells you that she’ll be fine, that her dragon would never harm her, but you’re so sorely tempted to dart forward and yank her back to safety. She touches a hand to Dreamfyre’s massive side as she passes and together, the two disappear into the back.

“She is exiting through the back entrance, my lady,” one dragonkeeper explains to you as the other walks into the darkness, trailing far beyond Helaena and Dreamfyre. “Do you wish to wait here or do you wish to go back up?”

You don’t respond immediately, too struck dumb still. You had seen dragons in the distance, swooping over the Blackwater or flying above the Red Keep, but you had never been so close. You had felt the excruciating heat of the flames when Dreamfyre had breathed out flames. You felt the very air shift as she moved. 

No, you think to yourself. No single man should have that. 

Quietly, you nod your assent and the dragonkeeper leads you back. When you reach the main floor, the princes are all facing a small (if it can even be called that) dragon, watching as it feasts on a shrieking lamb. Your stomach turns and you quickly turn away, walking away as fast as you can, resisting the urge to cover your ears to drown out the cries.

Outside the Dragonpit, you feel like you can breathe again and you raise a hand to your beating heart, taking deep breaths. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment and you head to the wheelhouse, standing outside of it. The thought of hiding away in the wheelhouse seems like an ever bigger humiliation so you stay outside, swinging your hands as you look up at the sky. Eventually, you see a blue flash that can only be Dreamfyre and your eyes widen with awe you track her flight, imagining sweet and caring Helaena on her back, laughing as she sours above King’s Landing. 

You watch until she flies out of sight, your eyes straining to try and track her so far in the distance. You can’t even imagine being that high off the ground. Casterly Rock was almost impossibly tall, soaring into the sky, and sometimes you and Tyshara would visit the battlements at the very top to stare out at the Sunset Sea. You two would always stand close to each other, hands holding the other’s, as the wind was so fiercely strong that high up in the air that, at times, it felt like it could carry you right off. Sometimes, if you made the mistake of staring down the cliffs, the ground felt like it was shifting out from under you. Dragons could fly even higher than that and you can’t imagine feeling more secure on a dragon than on top of the mountain your home was carved into.

Your stomach churns at the thought and you look back down, reminding yourself that you’re standing steady on the ground.  

You’re not alone for much longer when the gates of the Dragonpit open up and the princes all spill out. 

“My shining lady of Lannister,” Aegon calls, his voice carrying far, and you suppress your wince at his name for you even as you walk closer, curtseying deep when you reach him and his companions. “How did you like the Dragonpit?”

“It was glorious, your highness,” you reply, smiling up at him. Behind him, you can see Aemond’s carefully blank face. “Truly a marvel.”

Aegon laughs as he moves closer, Jacearys and Lucerys practically at his elbow. “Did you like Dreamfyre?”

You nod your head, eying him. “Yes, my prince, she was beautiful. Princess Helaena’s control seems exceptional.”

“Arrax listens to me just as well,” Lucerys cuts in with all the bluster and confidence of an eight-year-old. You give him a smile, looking him up and down. You had never spent any significant time with the Velaryons, only brief greetings in the halls or during banquets, but try as you might, you could not find a single whisper of Ser Laenor’s features in his sons - either of them. 

“Of course, my prince,” you reply, hiding your treasonous thoughts carefully. “I have no doubt you have the utmost control over your dragon.”

Aegon grins, something mean and mocking creeping into his pretty features, and you stiffen slightly. “Targaryens are bonded with their dragons for life, my lady. They’re a sign of our strength and… vitality. Without them, we’re just like anyone else.” He turns to grin at Aemond, laughing as if he had said a brilliant joke, before turning back to face you. 

You don’t dare look to Aemond. You can only imagine his expression right now. “Is that true, my prince?” You trill instead. “What a grand blessing for Princess Helaena and Lady Laena.”

Aegon blinks at that. 

You widen your eyes, looking up at the prince as innocently as you can manage. “Lady Laena claimed Vhagar, correct? She is the most massive dragon in the world. Princess Helaena has Dreamfyre, the next largest. I’ve never met Lady Laena so I cannot testify to her character but I am dear friends with Princess Helaena. She is strong and positively full of life. I’m so glad that you can give the female members of your family such high praise!”

The prince doesn’t respond, simply giving you a cool glance over, and your smile grows. With the smallest of scoffs, he turns away, heading to his own wheelhouse beyond yours and Helaena’s. The Velaryon boys follow behind.  

Aemond stays, however, looking at you with a glint in his eyes. “A blessing?”

Your smile turns genuine. “I’m just happy that he’s giving your sister the praise she so rightfully deserves.”

He hums, moving closer to stand by your side. “A rare thing from him to be sure.”

That brings a frown to your face. Aegon didn’t spend much time with Helaena so by virtue, you didn’t spend much time with him. The rare times he did show up, he seemed wholly uninterested in spending time with her. He wouldn’t be openly rude to her face or overtly mean but he always seemed as if he wanted to be anywhere else than there with Helaena. In contrast, Aemond would ask her questions about her bugs, reading whatever book she wanted, genuinely enjoying his time spent with his sister. 

You turn to Aemond. “If Prince Aegon is right,” you say quietly to him, not daring to look up. “Then I dare say you’ll have the fiercest and strongest dragon there is.”

“Don’t mock m-”

Your hand flies out and you grip his tightly. Swallowing down your nerves, you look up. His purple eyes are watching you carefully, vulnerable and soft. “They’re cruel and mean because they know the only thing they have over you is your lack of dragon. You’re smarter than all of them combined. I’ve seen you in the training yard - you put them all to shame. You actually care about doing your duties and protecting your family. You… You’re the trueborn son of King Viserys. There are none who would question that. You are a true Targaryen.”

With the way Aemond’s eyes darken, you can tell he understands what you’re implying. There were no whispers about his legitimacy. 

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “You’ll claim a dragon. You’ll claim one and you’ll show them what ‘Fire and Blood’ really means.”

Dropping his hand, you turn to face the Dragonpit. Aemond doesn’t say a word, remaining close enough to your side that you can feel the heat radiating from him. Together, you quietly stare up at the crystal blue sky. 

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #like grrm i write children to be way more mature than they should be

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 93 - Fancy chair, love it.

- So my theory is that Raizel just never learnt how to write in Lukedonian either.

- Tbh the janitor is suspicious. Like how hard was he googling M-21?

Chapter 94 - SUYIIIIIIIIIIII

- Ah geez the first of the racistly depicted characters.

Chapter 96 - Suyi getting mad at the kids for complaining about Hansu is so funny like when she first appears you think she's perhaps a stuck up celebrity or a pushover but it turns out she's just a really sweet friend.

- Suyi being stunned by Rai's looks but not falling for him (same with Yuna) is one of the things I always liked about Noblesse. Like sure in the first meeting they get blushy but I'll just jot that down to the inherent beauty of nobles since I can't relate to it at all.

Chapter 97 - Frankenstein's house always being stocked with so much food because the kids just started coming over daily is hilarious. Even funnier since Frankenstein obviously thinks it's overkill but is the one stocking up anyway.

Chapter 98 - Regis and Seira 🥺 Seira's og outfit was the best one she had like it only goes downhill from here folks.

Chapter 99 - It would have been so funny if Frankenstein went "they must be cosplayers" instead of realising the two were nobles.

- Regis taking all the initiative shows how it's his roadtrip coming of age journey which is pretty clever. Also Seira's just like that but still.

- Shinwoo stop exercising in class bro. Do not flex on the rest of us this is so rude 😭😭😭

- Regis confidently saying he's a noble in class to humans he doesn't plan on mind controlling... Baby boy why are you so dumb? How is this hiding your identity??? And Seira just lets him,,, good for her.

Chapter 100 - Ah yes their elegance boner at seeing Raizel... nobles are so fucking weird.

- M-21 thinking he won't get any information because of his time at the Union and thus being surprised at how open Frankenstein is is actually really sweet. Like yeah I still think Frankenstein is an unethical and questionable person but he is kind to most humans (werewolves and nobles can go fuck themselves I guess lmao).

Chapter 101 - The second hand embarrassment I felt when M-21 called the two noblesse... how do I even consume content?

- Yeah 100% most union members don't know the difference between nobles and vampires. I bet they'd classify jiangshi as either mutants or werewolves. Or to be more specific, that would be the classification given to low leveled members. On one hand I think it's dumb that the Union gives members twisted information because how would they even use it? But on the other hand it makes sense since it prevents said members from seeking nobles for help. After all, if they believe even the 'noblesse' are vampires that drink blood, than obviously they won't see them as possible escape routes.

- 'Noblesse only applies to one person'. Yeah because Rai's brother is fucking dead. And so is whoever was his predecessor/parent.

Chapter 102 - Those bullies got backup so fucking fast like Shinwoo literally just asked Regis and Seira if they were okay then boom! They're back.

Chapter 103- Regis going ??? essentially when Shinwoo tells him to take care of Seira is so funny like yes ofc he's confused she's literally a clan leader + noble females aren't physically weaker + noble women work out just like the men.

- Rude, Regis. You can't just ask someone why they're mingling among humans. You're doing that too. Who doesn't mingle among humans smh. Even cats and pigeons mingle with us.

Chapter 105 - Love how everyone else in the household is so sick of ramyeon like Raizel stop please you're being selfish.

Chapter 106 - Frankenstein is the definition of the 'right in front of my salad?' meme at Regis and M-21 arguing at the dinner table. Then there's Seira and Raizel just waiting for the noodles to get soggy so he can't even eat. Wish Urokai could see him getting tortured like this.

- The soldier rejecting backup because he knows the enemy is the Union hurts my heart. Wanting to prevent casualties... iwi

Chapter 107 - Shark how tf do you not know about South Korea? That's one of the asian countries people actually know about. I guess maybe it's because this is from around a decade back? K-pop is more recent and made the country more visible I guess.

- Ah yes Takeo. Forever known as "the first time I read Noblesse and he appeared I thought he was Marie's sister since they had the same hairstyle". Like I thought that before even learning about the Aris Taivra fiasco. My power 😔

- Oh don't worry M-21, Frankenstein stopped experimenting on people 830 years ago. You know, as one does.

Chapter 108 - Shark has like no general knowledge. Geography? History? Tf is that I guess.

- Tao saying they're the worst possible people for the job is so funny like yeah he's right. "All we do is massacre people in warzones why are we in Seoul?"

- The rest of the squad complain or are confused about the peace meanwhile Takeo is vibing. He's the normal guy TM of the group.

- Ah yes noble lore. If you take canon at face value than the fact that nobles were around when humans first emerged and there being about 2-3 clan leaders before the current generation means you can estimate their lifespan. Ofc it differs wildly depending on how you interpret the 'first humans' part. I'll assume there were 3 generations before the current generation (mvp lord being the third generation) and won't be adding the current generation since a 0.5-2k years is kinda meaningless. I'll also be assuming that mvp lord entered eternal sleep at around the same age as his predecessors and that he would have died soon from old age anyway (since canonically they do have limited lifespans). If we assume it's just the first human ancestors (7 million years ago) than the average pureblood lifespan is 2.33 million years. If we assume it's when homo sapiens started to emerge (300k years ago) than it's 100k years. If it's about modern humans (130k years ago) than it's 43.3k years. Regardless I'll ignore it since my hcs are that nobles are effectively immortal unless killed and that the 2-3 clan leaders is a misconception due to a mix of Gechutel just straight up lying, because there are clans that have had fewer clan leaders, because I have nobles settling on Lukedonia only 30k years ago, and because Gechutel is factoring in his own age of 10.2k so it's more like 'There have been 2-3 Ru clan leaders before the Ru clan leader 10k years ago since after we settled in Lukedonia'. There's also the possibility that nobles didn't have lords or clan leaders until a few thousand years ago in canon but the species has existed for much longer.

- 'Nobles are individualistic... They don't despise humans but don't love them either.' Humans w/ ants. Now if the ants were capable of speaking with us it'd be exactly the same situation.

Chapter 109 - "What were they researching here?" Since when does the Union research anything aside from human modifications Kranz? Why do you even need to ask? More seriously this means that the Union doesn't actually only do human experimentation and weapons lmao. The other shit just isn't relevant I guess. It's a shame, I'd have loved to see how a lab focused on like, fixing up polluted waters, would be fit into the story.

- The fact that Tao beat Jake up is never mentioned enough. Also confirms that Jake was lying out of his ass about being the strongest.

- Marie being the weakest assassination squad member is interesting like I know why Crombel doesn't need bodyguards as the reader but you'd think the Union would be suspicious of him not having a stronger bodyguard. Also I still can't believe the Union doesn't bother learning who the members are aside from the ones Crombel tells them about like. Bro???

- Shark calling Takeo uptight is hilarious because the guy literally just shot the falling ceiling light which is the opposite of uptight. Either he was preventing them from getting hurt/being caught or he wanted that to happen considering the fact that he shot it and it shattered. And then he just goes back to leaning against the wall. Takeo please 🤣

Chapter 110 - And Shinwoo's still staying over at Ikhans place. Wonder when he's gonna move back. I really love their dynamic like yeah I beg my sister to get me food all the time too. Also love the apron and skeleton hoodie.

- Shinwoo went through the five stages of grief pretty quick huh? Like yeah it's his own misunderstanding that Ikhan is dating someone but still. Homophobia is annoying as always though.

Chapter 111 - Suyi paying for their food is so sweet of her and also I relate so much like yeah mood that's me and no I don't want to be paid back.

- Takeo,,, the fact that he just hands his wallet over because he doesn't like violence and doesn't want to beat them up,,, my heart. Otoh... how did he even get cornered in an dark shady alleyway lmao.

- Aris managing to make herself look like a teenager as Taivra is interesting since Takeo says he wants her to be able to go to school like Yuna and Shinwoo when he's treating them. I guess she looks younger without makeup.

- Takeo just straight up pointing his gun at Shark in public because he mentioned Taivra... anger issues much? I understand why but taking your gun out is an overreaction.

#noblesse #raining while reading

[keepmeinthedark]

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter One: The Night We Met

Read here on A03

Okay so before we begin please can you just state your name, age, and role?

Um, my name is Peter Pettigrew, I'm 78 years old and I was the lead singer of the Marauders.

Great, so Mr. Pettigrew where would you like to start?

Well, I guess we should start from the beginning, shouldn't we?

And when is that?

Whens the beginning? Well, that would be Christmas Eve 2017, that's the night when James met Lily.

//

"Honestly you could at least act like you want to be here," Petunia complained for the fifth time that night. Lily just rolled her eyes. She didn't want to be there. It was Christmas eve for goodness sake, she wanted to be at home in her pajamas watching Christmas movies with her parents and sister. She wanted to go to church (even though she had never been religious) and admire their set of the nativity before coming home and going to sleep to the sound of her parents trying to be as quiet as they could while dragging their presents down to the Christmas tree. 

But instead, here she was, in a crowded pub surrounded by people she didn't know. Sure it'll look good on her Snapchat and maybe as the night goes on someone will do something stupid enough to give her a funny story to tell when she next sees her friends on boxing day (her bets was on the obviously drunk drummer of the band that was currently playing.) But until then she didn't want to be there and she certainly didn't want Petunia making her feel bad for it. Petunia only dragged her along because she has no friends of her own to take with her but despite what every sitcom tells you take it from Lily that a sister is not a "built-in best friend" a sister is just a sister, someone who you share parents with and have to live with until one of you moves out and that's it. At least for the Evans sisters that was it. Lily knew that not everyone hated their sibling and that in fact it wasn't supposed to be like that. She had grown up watching the Lupin brothers get along, they would play sports together, help one enough with their homework and protect each other with their lives. Watching them sometimes made Lily crave a sibling, completely forgetting that she had one of her own. 

Maybe it's the age gap, Lily thought.

The band onstage had now started playing I wish it could be Christmas every day and the crowd was eating it up. There didn't seem to be one person in the pub who wasn't singing, lifting their glasses during the chorus, and wrapping their arm around whoever was closest. Lily liked this. From where she was stood at the bar she had a great view of everyone and was able to act like for a moment that she was a part of this moment like she wasn't just watching from the sidelines and was actually having a great time. That was until she had turned to her right and noticed that her sister had completely abandoned her at least.

"So much for sister bonding," she muttered, quickly downing the rest of her drink and squeezing her way through the crowd towards the beer garden.

As expected it was freezing outside, Lily was shivering and could see every breath she took, her hands already felt like they were going purple and her nose was so cold that it now started to hurt. But it was less noisy and easier to breathe outside. And besides, smoking wasn't allowed inside the pub.

After ten minutes, Lily started to regret her decision. she was only halfway through her cigarette, and her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. She was slightly jumping from the hells of her feet and wished dearly that she had wrapped up warmer than just a jumper and her coat. 

Her only company was a group of men who were also smoking, they were paying her no mind but she couldn't help the feeling that they were judging her. Maybe they thought that she had been ditched by her friends, or was new in town and didn't yet have any friends. She wasn't sure which she would've preferred, to have shitty friends or no friends at all?

"'Scuse me?" a voice suddenly called out 

Lily's head spun towards the source to see a boy, with brown skin, black messy hair, and square glasses making his way hesitantly towards her. "Hate to bother you but could I borrow a light?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, of course," Lily replied a little too quickly before pulling out her lighter and passing it to him. The boy nodded his head and lit his own cigarette.

"Thank you," he said politely and took a few puffs before talking again. "Having a nice night?" he asked.

Lily nodded her head and let out a little laugh, "Actually it's been a bit boring," she answered honestly. "Im here with my sister and she's sorta disappeared on me."

Bad. Bad. These are bad things to say to a stranger. Her mind screamed at her suddenly.

She quickly backtracked. "But I'm sure I'll find her... We have trackers on each other see and our parents are expecting us home," she rambled. 

The boy just smiled and nodded along, when she had finished he set his beer down onto the table that was close by and took a seat still making sure that she knew she had his full attention. Lily took a few steps closer to him and put out her cigarette but she didn't sit down.

"Sounds rough," he replied. "I'm here with my mates, we just performed actually. I was the guitarist. I also sung"

Lily's eyes widened as if she was just realizing that she had been talking to an old friend all along, although really she didn't recognize him at all. "Oh yeah, I saw you inside you were great." she slightly lied. "So how long have you guys been together?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

The boy smiled, "Well we went to secondary school together and started playing there, at first it was just for a laugh but we've actually started to get into it and now we're hoping to somehow make a career out of it, and yeah it'll be hard we know that but were willing and surly that has to count for something." 

"Well, no famous band today has ever gotten there by giving up have they?"

"Exactly! If we were to give up we would just be asking ourselves what if our entire life and that's not a life I want to live," he said, finishing off his drink and giving her a toothy grin. "I get scared though, believe me, I have no chance of doing this on my own and it worries me sometimes that the guys will back out. Frank doesn't really have the passion y'know? Like he likes it and you can tell but he isn't passionate about it and as for Sirius his family is a pain and hates the whole music business, they're trying to guilt-trip him. Y'know the whole "We didn't come all the way to London for you to become a rockstar" business. It's bullshit. He has a younger brother why don't they put all their eggs in his basket? That's why parents have more than one kid right? For when the first one turns out to be a disappointment you have a few more to fall back on?"

This made Lily laugh, "Well, as a younger sibling I can confirm that theory," she joked.

The boy laughed, "I wouldn't know, my parents didn't need a plan B they struck gold the first time." His words were now beginning to slur. It became quite clear to Lily that he probably wouldn't be saying these things if he wasn't under the influence. 

"Well, at least you have a plan for what you want to do. I have no idea and my gap year has now turned into gap years and still no clue where I want to be a year from now. My parents don't care what I am so long as Im not working in McDonald's for the rest of my life."

"How's that going?'

"Terribly, cheers for asking. But at least Im getting money, it could be worse."

The boy nodded, "Could be a lot worse," he agreed. "You could be dead."

It took everything Lily had to stop her from replying with I wish.

They were silent for a while, the only sound that could be heard was the racket coming from inside as the cold how now even become too much for the group of men that were out earlier. The conversation seemed to have come to a close. Lily didn't want it to.

"So where are your friends now?" she asked.

The boy looked behind him, towards the door leading to the bar, and then back at her before simply shrugging. "God knows. Maybe one of them is hooking up with your sister right now."

Lily laughed and lightly punched his arm, "Don't be so rude!" she exclaimed. The boy laughed and nudged her with his shoulder, "Im only giving suggestions. Perhaps we should get searching for them, it is really cold out here and I've got to make sure that they don't get into too much trouble."

Lily didn't really want to leave, but now that he had mentioned it the cold was coming back to being a problem and she couldn't expect him to stay out in it just for her pure entertainment while his friends could be missing for all they knew, so she nodded and stood up.

"I'm Lily, by the way," she smiled and stretched out her hand. "Lily Evans."

The boy curled his lip and took her hand, kissed her knuckle, and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Lily Evans. I'm James Potter." 

#the marauders #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #jily #jily fanfiction #dorlene #dorlene fanfiction #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #emmeline vance #mary macdonald

[iamalsogodscreation]

It has always been this way. I tried to change but it seems it's impossible.

I grew up in a Christian home. I grew up in a somewhat stable home with a prayerful mom and a supportive dad. We were never rich but they did their best to meet all needs and some wants. They were the best. I don't come from a dysfunctional family or have a traumatic past. That's why it's difficult to understand when the "lay men" with no knowledge on the subject think they understand better than the one going through it and have theories of how we came to being.

I have always been a loner. I don't know how to make friends or keep friends. I don't have anyone I talk to about my experiences, fears, emotions, or aspirations. I prefer to write them down ; it's a better sharing method than sharing with people. I believe sharing with people gives them the ammunition to harm you in the future. I learnt that the hard way. I embraced solitude at a very young age and I see myself going that same path till I'm gone.

It all started when I was very young around 4/5years old. I made an acquaintance at school. She was a year ahead of me in class but we were age mates. She was beautiful, generous, thoughtful and cool. Everyone wanted to be her friend. She lived a few blocks from my place and her house was on the way to church; one of many. I always preferred we used that route to church. I would look in that direction hoping to catch a glimpse of her face. I would wish she's outside every Sunday morning but I was disappointed on most days. I saw her brother more than I saw her but at least I still saw her at school. I changed school a few years later and I couldn't see her again. The only time I could was on Sundays and there was no guarantee she would be outside. The sad thing is, I don't think she knew me. I doubt she knew I existed. I wanted to see her all the time. I didn't know why I was so drawn to her. With time I replaced her with someone else in my class. She wasn't the most popular in school. She had this beautiful soul even to this day. She is a melanin Goddess and my admiration of her can't be quenched. I adored her and thought of her everyday. I would think of marrying her and making her happy. I crushed on her throughout basic school. I actually succeeded at being her friend in 5th and sixth grade but that was short lived. I preferred it that way. I could talk to her everyday and not just sit aloof admiring her from afar. In 7th grade, our classes changed. I wasn't so bothered by it since i managed to keep her as a friend. With time we saw less and less of each other and made new acquaintances. I still thought of her though. I was okay till 8th grade everything changed. Puberty hit and there were so many changes and hormones. I thought of her more. I began to hide whenever I saw her. I would use a different route whenever I saw her and almost always found a way to hide from her . I remember how I turned during recess one day and she was right behind me. She tried talking to me but I couldn't utter a word. I became dumb in her presence and I wonder if she knew I liked her. I stopped talking to her and avoided her all the time. I know she noticed but I can't tell if she figured out why. There was this guy in her class who would not let her be. I avoided her but I still made sure I knew how she was doing. There was this rage whenever I saw the guy near her. I know that's jealousy. She is one of the best people that I have ever crushed on and I know whoever ends up with her will be lucky.

Senior high was different. Schools changed and the cycle of making new friends and adapting began all over again. On my first day I met this girl. She was a sight to behold. Her beauty was breathtaking. She noticed me too and that was not because I was cute but because I was with my little sister who made me chase her all over the school. Most of the people there remembered me for that and I think she was no exception. I would look for her whenever I was in school and I had this joy whenever I saw her. I never spoke to her in my 3 years stay in that school. She spoke to me once. She asked me a question that could be answered with 'yes' or 'no' and all I did was nod. That was the only time we communicated. I always felt she knew I liked her. She caught me stare at her many times. I feel she knew I liked her.

Then there was this other girl. I met her late. We were in our final month of our first year. I was surprised that was the first time I was noticing her. She was quite popular and that even made me wonder why that was my first time seeing her. She was different. She spoke to me the first time we met and coined a nickname for me. She spoke to me whenever we met. She never allowed me to hide and admire her from afar. She managed to make me like her. She wouldn't just let me be. I began to fall for her hard. She made it worse by encouraging it... unknowingly. She didn't know I liked her. She would say the sweetest things and do things no one had ever done for me. She was not like the others. The others were good girls but she was known for all the wrong reasons in school. Some acquaintances warned me not to get close to her. I think I was attracted to the adventure and the little attention she gave. She is the only one I ever confessed my feelings to. She made me so comfortable that I was able to do something I thought I would never do. I did it at a time I knew nothing would happen between us even if she said she felt the same way. The fact that I was able to tell her how I felt surprises me even to this day. She didn't feel the same by the way. She was the last person I crushed hard on. I'm still attracted to 'people' but I don't crush. It's been a long time i had a crush. I'm old now and I don't see myself in a relationship even in the future. I want to continue to be alone devoid of any distractions.

I was moved to write this because of recent attacks on a group I identify with in my country (an African country). I'm a female attracted to only the "fairer" sex. I don't think I chose to but that's what I know. I prayed it away so many times but it never did. I didn't know it had a name until I went to an all girls church camp when I was 10 and we were taught to avoid "such acts". They attached a name to it and that made me hide the more. If I could change I would but I can't. I've never being in a relationship and I don't see myself in one but I'm not going to deny the feelings I have. I've not had many females asking me out and I actually got flattered by the few that did. I have never had romantic interest in anyone of the opposite sex. I tried many times but I just can't develop feelings for them and I find it cruel to pretend to be in a relationship with someone I know I don't or wouldn't like.

I just want you to know I didn't decide to be attracted to the same sex, it just happens "naturally" and I can't change that.

[swindlersstole]

mermay sunday

yeah we’re forgoing the 6SS in favor of mermay because what’s better than ONE mermaid? it’s TWO mermaids

this was going to be a oneshot but it my deep-rooted craving for univeristy aus + the allure of the fantasy boarding school set up has turned this into. A Thing. and i don’t know where This Thing is going because I only have this and two other scenes in mind BUT that’s besides the point. this is going on ao3 eventually when this first part gets fleshed out a little more because I finished this at 2 AM this morning.

as a disclaimer i DID binge re-read a centaur’s life to get a feel for how i wanted this to be written, so there’s a lot of show don’t tell for how the races all work. there is method to my madness i swear this

~

come, all you sailors

At this point in his casual observations, Nova felt confident enough to say that this was most definitely not a crush.

A crush, in his opinion, required at least a name to go on, never mind a voice or any inkling of a personality--none of which he had at his disposal. All he had of this mysterious(?) other student was his face and a bare bones idea of his library schedule. Neither of which was bad, necessarily, because watching a guy that handsome intently studying the sky through a telescope and pouring over astronomy books was something Nova found very enchanting. It made the study nights where he knew their schedules lined up something to look forward to.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger tap a pencil against his cheek (he was left-handed, Nova had noticed that ages ago) and run a hand through spiky blue hair before going back to the telescope. He looked through for a moment, before turning away to dig into the black coat hung on one side of his chair, retrieving what looked like a protractor and returning to his writing.

From his table shelves away from the observatory window, Nova pretended to push his own hair behind one finned ear--to better keep an eye on the subject at hand.

He supposed he should have felt bad, snooping on somebody like this, and he did to a point, but there was always the chance that this wasn’t his or the stranger’s fault. For all Nova knew, this sudden fascination might’ve just been some underlying effect this stranger had on others; sirens weren’t the only fae folk out there who could do that, though he wasn’t sure of any who could do it subconsciously. 

It was one of his worst fears and the reason he kept his mouth shut so much, sure, but he knew it was all in his head. Mostly. But Nova figured it didn’t really matter what the guy was--it didn’t change his charm at all.

So yes, three months into this person-watch, Nova felt confident enough to say that he was… taken, with the student. Not a crush in the slightest. It felt like it could get there pretty fast though, if he closed the gap, so Nova decided to keep this admiration at a distance and to himself. If he didn’t have a name to attach to the (very roguish) face, he felt confident that the infatuation would pass.

If nothing else, it helped him pass the time waiting for his sister to respond to her texts. And speak of the devil herself, there she was.

It wasn’t often that Jade and Frysabel had time to come visit, let alone together, and Nova wasn’t about to pass up the chance to see his sister and sister-in-law if they wanted him around. He could fawn from afar any other time these days--though he could neither confirm nor deny if he took longer than usual to gather his belongings into his bag.

The stranger didn’t notice the quiet shuffle of Nova’s movements, or if he did he didn’t make a point of showing it, not even when Nova began a steady pace walking behind him. It was the quickest way to the nearest staircase down, so his path was at least justified, infatuation or no. And he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what this mystery student was even studying; astronomy, obviously, but maybe a minor in divination? Though Nova wasn’t entirely sure how that process worked, so who could--

“Ah--!” He managed one quick, subtle glance at the stranger’s textbook before Nova’s foot caught the leg of an empty chair, and he stumbled to the ground. He managed to catch himself before any real harm could be done or disturbance be made, but there had been no avoiding the stubbed toe through his sneakers, and he hissed in pain as he rested on his knees. “Ghhh…”

“Whoa, hey--are you good?”

A tentative hand fell on his shoulder, and an unfamiliar voice called out to him, and all at once, Nova forgot about the sting in his foot. And he hoped, he prayed that when he turned around, he wasn’t going to see what he thought he was going to see. But fortune is a fickle mistress, even among the fae.

The stranger had abandoned his belongings in favor of coming to the ground alongside Nova, if only to make sure he was alright. He’d only ever really seen the stranger’s face in profile before, so he was familiar in theory with the blue of his eyes, but Nova hadn’t realized just how deep that blue went. It struck him like the ocean reflecting the bright summer sky, something he normally found comfort in, but having the sea look back to him with alarm and worry like that made his stomach flip. 

“I--y-yeah, I’m okay!” All Nova could do was laugh to force away the heat in his face. Beguilement aside, he did just essentially trip over his own two feet in clear sight of someone, so at least his embarrassment couldn’t have read as anything but that. “Just--forgot my land legs for a second, aha.”

The stranger didn’t say much, but gave a hum of acknowledgement as he looked him over. “No torn fins, scraped scales, nothing?”

“Nah, it wasn’t that bad a fall. Maybe a bruise, but I’ll live.” Nova tugged at the tips of one fin sheepishly. “Uh… sorry to bother you.”

“Hey, as long as you’re not hurt, right?” And the stranger smiled at him and oh, wow, did he ever have a smile. The sight of it near blinded Nova to the hand the stranger offered him when he got back on his feet. “Need a hand?”

“Oh--” Nova cleared his throat before taking the hand offered to him. The stranger was warm to the touch. “Thanks.”

It was when the mystery student had pulled him back up that Nova saw it--crumpled on the floor next to his chair lay the stranger’s coat, forgotten in a heap. Even from a distance, Nova could tell it was of exceptional quality, a black moto jacket with a dark blue fur collar; he’d seen the stranger wear it a few times, even though it seemed far too warm out for a coat so heavy looking, but the guy wore it well, so Nova wasn’t complaining. Without much thinking about it, he darted towards the coat and picked it off the ground, dusting it lightly at the collar.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve knocked it over.” He laughed again, awkwardly, before turning to hand the coat over. It wasn’t leather like he thought it had been—in fact, he couldn’t rightly name what it was made of, now that he was holding it—but there was a faint inkling of enchantment on the coat, and that was enough an indicator as to its value for Nova. “Hate for it to get stepped on, it’s a pretty nice… uh.”

Nova stopped talking as soon as he looked at the stranger again. Any sense of concern or amusement had faded from his now very pale face, and was instead replaced with overwhelming panic. Maybe even fear. All the while, he just stared unseeing at the coat in Nova’s hand, as though lost in a terror-induced trance.

“Are… you okay?” But the stranger didn’t seem to hear him, lost wherever his mind had wandered. Nova thought briefly to use his voice and pull him out of… whatever he was in, but going around hypnotizing people for every little thing was a tad worse than just irresponsible. The idea still lingered though, even as he asked again, “Is something wrong?”

“What?” Almost immediately, the stranger snapped back to earth with a shake of his head. “I mean--no… No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He placed a hand on the coat, and waited for a second, like he was expecting Nova to snatch it away from him, and when he didn’t, the stranger pulled the coat back to him, carefully. Again, much quieter, he said, “Thank you.”

“Sure?” Well… that was odd. But then again, fae had all sorts of rules and conducts for things, and history notwithstanding no one could really expect to know all of them. The best one could hope for was to just be polite, and if Nova had really done something to offend this guy, he was pretty sure he would have known by now, if the number of men Jade had thrown to the ground for the offhand succubus comment was any indi--

Nova gasped, quietly, to himself. “Jade.”

“Jade?” The stranger repeated.

“Ah—my sister, she’s waiting for me outside, I forgot.” There was a clumsy shuffle as Nova stepped around the stranger, and headed back to the stairs with a bit more speed. But that would have been rude, just to leave this person that helped him hanging like that, and he turned back around to give the stranger a half wave goodbye. “Sorry about--all that. I’ll see you around!”

Were he not in a library, Nova would have bolted towards the stairs to get out of that mess of an interaction; he couldn’t bear to look behind him to see whatever the stranger’s reaction to that had been. He kept his head low to the ground as he bounded down the steps to prevent just that, all the while trying to will away the growing dread in his stomach.

See you around? He pinched the bridge of his nose. I’ll see you around? Ugh, of all the things to say…

~

The days after the incident passed by without much meaning. The entire interaction and Nova’s parting words to the cute guy had haunted him, as he expected, and even Jade had laughed at him a little over dinner that night because of course he had to explain to her his sudden desire to die, but aside from all that, nothing had changed. Classes came and went, he still chatted with Gemma and Faris like he always did, got calls from Mum and Grandpa--in retrospect, Nova might have thought this to be a sign of the oncoming storm, but he was so eager to block out how astronomically bad he’d messed up at just talking to a new person that little else seemed to register. He almost succeeded, for what it was worth.

And then came a knock at his door.

It wasn’t ideal for Nova to avoid the library. The place was more reliably quiet that late at night than the dorms could be, and a few of the books he needed for his studies were too old to be checked out normally. But even less ideal than that was bumping into the handsome stranger again, and by that point he wasn’t going to get any of his work done by fault of the existential shame, so he planned to stay in his dorm until the incident would be long forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.

But the universe just couldn’t let Nova have this one pass, because when he opened the door to his dorm, the stranger was there, still wearing that fancy coat even indoors. “Oh, good, you’re actually here.”

The instinct to just close the door and pretend like this moment wasn’t happening was very difficult to fight. There were a multitude of questions as to why the moment was even happening at all, and as much as Nova knew better than to be a jerk, he felt pretty entitled to those questions. “You were looking for me?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” The stranger crossed his arms. “It’s Nova, right? Shell said I’d find you here.”

“Oh--Shell sent you?” That did put Nova at a considerable amount of ease; if the campus merfolk advisor had told the stranger where to find him, then it did make this whole encounter significantly less like a horror movie set-up; Michelle doted on him as much as Jade did, she wouldn’t put Nova in any sort of harm.

“Something like that.” The stranger seemed to agree. “You know she wouldn’t send a stalker your way.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” It did beg the question as to how the stranger knew Shell in the first place, but that was beside the point right now. “But then... did you just need me for something?”

There was very obviously something up; something in the way the stranger glanced aside and furrowed his brow raised a flag in the back of Nova’s mind, but what that flag was, he couldn’t yet say. 

“So--listen.” The stranger started after a pause. “This is really weird, and I get that, and if you’re busy right now, I won’t get in your way, but… do you have a minute?”

“A… to talk?” No, Nova, to jump off a cliff, what are you even saying-- “I mean, I don’t have anything pressing to do. What’s up?”

“It… well.” The stranger paused again, and Nova clearly saw the rise and fall of his shoulders, like he was bracing himself for a hit. “I can’t—it’s about when we ran into each other.”

“Oh, no.” Nova’s fins flared out nervously. All of a sudden, his fear of a racial violation came back full force. “What did I do?”

The stranger lifted up a hand as though to try and calm him. “No, no, don’t—don’t panic, it’s not like that. You didn’t do anything bad.”

“But I did something.” It wasn’t a question.

“You…” The stranger’s hand fell to his head, fingers more pulling on his hair than combing through it. “Did… kind of? It’s not—I don’t think you meant to, but it’s still—look, I really don’t want to be talking about this out here.” He stopped to take another deep breath. “Can I come in? If that’s okay.”

There was no way for Nova to see where this was going, and he wasn’t sure if he liked any of the directions he could think of. Again, Shell would not have put him or anyone under her care in any danger, and it wasn’t like he thought the guy was actually a stalker (in this case, Nova honestly fit that bill a bit more considering), but there was a lot to be concerned about regarding a stranger asking to come in his room half-past ten. 

Instinctively, Nova knew he should say no.

What he said instead was, “Yeah, sure. Come on in.” And he stepped inside for the stranger to pass through.

Why am I like this.

The stranger sighed out a “Thanks” and walked through the door, a fleeting sense of anxiousness in his steps, and Nova could only liken the sound of the door clicking shut to the sound of his own fate being sealed.

“This isn’t a vampire thing, is it?” Nova asked, distantly, anything at all to clear the air. If nothing else, it might explain the inherent attraction thing, especially coupled with the invitation. Unless the stranger was also just trying to be polite.

“Man, if I was a vampire, this wouldn’t be an issue.” The stranger managed a laugh, just as awkward as the rest of this conversation, but he still looked effortlessly cool leaning against Nova’s desk. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not a disappointment, no.” Nova seated himself on the edge of his bed, if only to keep a respectable distance. “Just trying to figure out how you know Michelle.”

“Oh--I’ve been helping her with her walking.” The stranger explained. “Mermaid legs, you know. Not that strong. And she wants to be on her feet for her wedding.”

Nova did, in fact, know that, because Michelle was beyond excited for her wedding and was pulling out whatever stops she could, and there were few of her students that weren’t doing something to help the cause. Nova was no exception, but that was beside the point. “So she asked you to help her train? That’s a big ask for a student.”

“It is, yeah--but I knew her beforehand, too. She knew I could help, and I knew she could… well.” The stranger gestured to him. “Point me to you. And keep mum about it.”

“Uh… huh.” Nothing odd about that at all, no sir. “Why does she have to keep quiet, exactly?”

The stranger opened his mouth, and Nova could clearly see a flicker in their eyes that said he certainly had words to say, but they weren’t coming out as quickly and as easily as he had probably hoped they would. His hands dropped down to gesture to some imaginary object, and he looked at Nova dead-on, and confused as he was Nova couldn’t find it in himself to pull away.

“...so.” The stranger took one of those hands, and placed it on the breast of his jacket. “It’s about the coat.”

There wasn’t much in the way for Nova to hide his wince. Of all the things it could have been, he had a sneaking suspicion the coat was going to be the problem here. “Did I do something to the enchantment?”

The stranger looked taken aback by the question. “You can tell it’s enchanted?”

“I mean, not what it’s enchanted with,” Nova clarified, “but, yeah. I knew as soon as I touched it.”

“How did you know, though?” The stranger raised a brow.

“Forging major.” Nova shrugged. “Minor in textile sciences.”

“There’s sirens in the forging curriculum?” The stranger seemed genuinely surprised. “Huh. I thought you guys were all about the performing arts.”

“Life is in the details. And making things from scratch is still an art.” This wasn’t the time or place to get into that sore spot. “But, anyway. Did something happen to the spell when I picked up your coat? Because--look, I can’t fix that myself, but I’m happy to get whatever the components are to--”

“No, no, it’s not--not that kind of enchantment.” The stranger clarified. “It’s, uh… it’s always been a part of it.”

“Always… oh!” Nova palmed his fist. “So, it’s in part of the material? That makes sense. Is it just cosmetic damage, then? I can fix that.”

He hadn’t thought he’d said anything strange, but the stranger just looked at him with something like marvel in his eyes. “...What? What did I say?”

“You really don’t know, do you.” The comment was quiet, more to himself than to Nova, and the stranger glanced to the ground in thought. “Well… that’s good. Definitely makes this easier.”

“Makes what easier?” Far be it from Nova to lose his patience, but this roundabout game of questions was running his nerves ragged. He had an infatuation with this handsome student, he wasn’t blinded by it. “Look, I’m sorry for whatever it was I did, but if I don’t know what it was, then I can’t fix it.”

“It’s not… something you have to fix.” The stranger explained. “But you have a right to know what’s going on. Just--gimme a minute to… no. No, you know what? There’s no good way to put this. I’ll be blunt.” 

Nova said nothing, merely waiting for the stranger to explain himself; after what felt like a long while, the stranger dropped his hands to the side in resignation, looking at Nova dead-on. 

“I’m a selkie.”

High-strung as he was at the moment, Nova was smart. He liked his puzzles, and he didn’t mind a bit of detective work here and there. Sometimes, though, it paid to remember that often times, the simplest solution to a problem was usually the correct one, and the answer to his questions in this case didn’t get better than those three quick words.

The handsome stranger was a handsome selkie. Selkie pelts were historically coveted. The coat was enchanted. Nova had picked up his coat. The dots connected practically automatically, and all at once the blood drained from Nova’s face.

“Oh.” Nova muttered, mouth painfully dry. “Oh, no.”

“...Yeah.” The selkie bit down on his lip as he nodded. “It, uh--least now you know how I know Shell.”

“Oh, Spirit--” Nova leaned over into his knees, holding his head in his hands. “As if that last run-in wasn’t enough of a disaster, I--” He snapped back up, panic writ bold on his face. “I wasn’t trying to steal it, I swear, I would never--”

“No, no, we’ve been through that, you obviously weren’t trying to do harm.” The selkie assured. “The fact that you didn’t know you were holding a pelt the whole time sort of drives that home.”

“I’ve never held a selkie pelt before!” Nova cried in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t even know there were selkies on campus.”

“You’re not supposed to know. There’s a lot of privacy policies specifically for us so no one steals our pelts.”

The selkie raised a hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, stepped forward and placed it on Nova’s shoulder. Nova jumped from the touch, but his hand was warm, and his grip was comforting. “I get it, I do. You were doing the right thing. You didn’t do anything bad.”

Nova glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back to the selkie. “...but then--what did I do?”

The selkie’s fingers drummed against his shoulder. “See, that’s… the part that’s making this weird.”

It was another long moment while the selkie took a seat on Nova’s bed besides him. Judging from the color starting to bloom on his cheeks, Nova suspected this was so he didn’t have to look directly at him.

“So… selkies have a long history of people stealing our skins. Everybody knows that.” When Nova nodded, the stranger continued. “And you weren’t trying to steal mine. We’re clear on that. But what you did, it… returning a selkie’s missing coat has a very specific meaning in the culture, and you know how these old fae laws are, so it’s taken… pretty literally.”

This just kept getting worse and worse, but at least there was some solace for Nova that whatever this meaning entailed, it wasn’t his imminent doom. If an old fae law was going to kill him, it would have done so already. “...what’s the meaning.”

The selkie looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Nova saw the blush that had just started spreading on his skin turn ever more red, before the selkie closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s a proposal.” He groaned. “You know… the marriage kind.”

Rescind the previous solace. Nova just decided he would rather have death. 

“So… wait. Did I--” He pointed to himself, then to the selkie, then back to himself, and again and again and again, each one more frantic than the last. “Are we--”

“As far as selkie law is concerned, we’re engaged.” There was a significant slump to the selkie’s shoulders as he said that. “So at least now you get why the subterfuge--but, listen!”

Before Nova could ask further, the selkie sat up, trying to force a reassuring smile. “This sort of thing isn’t totally a freak accident. It happens a lot more often than you’d think. And it’s an easy enough thing to undo! So you don’t have to panic about it.”

“That’s--a really big ask.” Defeat made his body feel astronomically heavy, but Nova forced himself to sit back up. “I just… I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“What are you sorry for? Of course you had no idea!” The selkie laughed a short, surprised laugh, and if circumstances were any different, it might have made Nova’s stomach flip. “The only thing you did wrong was be a decent guy. I should be apologizing to you for dragging you into all this.”

“You couldn’t have foreseen this, either!” Despite himself, Nova managed to return an exasperated smile of his own. “But if this is something that happens a lot, why bother telling me at all?”

“You answered your own question: it happens a lot.” The selkie shrugged. “It’ll get undone, sure, but there’s no telling how far back in the queue our case would be. It wouldn’t take longer than a year, but it’s still going to be a good few months before it’s annulled. And we’d need both our accounts to prove it was an accident in the first place.”

“I--” Nova blinked. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Exactly.” Hands on his knees, the selkie looked up at the ceiling. “Then there’s the binding.”

“The--excuse me?”

“You know how the stories go, don’t you? A selkie who has their pelt stolen is bound to the one who holds it until they get it back.”

Nova’s eyes narrowed. “But I didn’t steal your pelt.”

“No, but this whole pact thing is done through it.” The selkie fiddled with the sleeve of his coat as he spoke. “It’s not like I’d be following you around every minute of every day, but… you’ll be seeing a lot of me in the months to come.”

He laughed again, more quietly to himself, and regarded Nova with a raised brow. “Definitely a lot more than the weekly library trips.”

“Oh--” This night was really proving to just be one heart attack after another. Maybe, if the universe wanted to be nice, it would let Nova get away with this one little vague mislead. “You noticed?”

“We’re always sitting in the same spots. Same times, too.” The selkie gestured. “It felt like we had a thing going. Always thought it was kind of nice.”

Of all the boons the universe could give him, it had to be that one, huh.

“Anyway.” The selkie sobered up, and continued. “I needed to tell you all this, but you hadn’t been around the library in a while, and I started to get antsy. And that’s why we’re here  now. The weirdness of this is all on me.” His expression fell serious. “I’m not going to push you into anything--you can ignore me, if you’d rather not think about this. I’ll keep out of your hair as best I can, if you need space.”

“No! No, that’s not--don’t do that.” Nova hadn’t meant to sound so desperate when he said that, and he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “It’s not like I blame you for all this. That’d be insane. And I can’t just let you deal with all this on your own. I need to take responsibility.”

That last part had sounded fine in his head, but after actually saying the words themselves, Nova threw his head back with a groan. “‘Take response’... could I have possibly picked a worse phrase.”

“Probably.” There was that quiet little chuckle again, and all of a sudden Nova felt better about his anxiety-ridden vocabulary. “Good to know you plan to take care of me~”

“Shut uuup.” The words came out with a shaky laugh as Nova ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever happened to ‘in sickness and health’?”

“We’re still riding this out together, aren’t we? I’m glad for that.”

There was a considerable amount of relief in the selkie’s voice, and when Nova looked back to him, that relief was in equal measure in his eyes. “I mean it. You kind of learn to expect the worst when it comes to your skin, so… I’m glad you’re a good guy, is all I’m saying. I think we can get through this in one piece.”

Nova wasn’t one to fawn over any bit of praise that came his way, cute guy at the source or now, but it was hard not to get a little flustered after… well. Everything. “...I could always turn out to be a jerk, y’know.”

The selkie shook his head. “Shell wouldn’t like you so much if you were.”

“That--yeah, I’ll give you that,”

Seemingly satisfied, the selkie held out his hand.

“The name’s Erik, by the way.”

The suddenness must have surprised Nova more than he realized, because it garnered another chuckle at his expense. “What?”

“Well, I just realized--I knew who you were this whole time, but you didn’t have my name.” The selkie--Erik--flashed his canines. “Not exactly proper if you don’t know your fiance’s name, right?”

Nova sputtered at how casually he’d joked about that, and Erik kept laughing at him, but soon enough the sheer ridiculousness of the situation began to dawn, and Nova managed a few quick laughs of his own before taking Erik’s hand in a firm shake.

“Nice to meet my future husband.” He joked back, and suddenly, the problem at hand felt a lifetime away.

#panda does a write #fic: come all you sailors #what would the proper classification for this be #cause it's not fake dating #but it IS? #mysterious

[d-noona]

BARTERED BRIDE

Chapter 3: Kim Namjoon

Kim Namjoon is a ruthless financier used to buying and selling stocks, shares and priceless artifacts. But now Namjoon has his eye on a very different acquisition - Park Han Byeol. Left destitute by her father’s recent death, Han Byeol walks into Namjoon’s bank looking to extend her overdraft. As Han Byeol needs money and Namjoon needs a wife, he proposes the perfect deal: he’ll rescue her financially if she agrees to marry him. But in this marriage of convenience can Han Byeol ever be anything more than just a bartered bride?  

Since Yoongi's wedding, Han Byeol had a lot of sleepless nights, prowling around in the small hours, tortured by thoughts of Yoongi making babies with Choon Hee...babies which should've been hers. All she ever wanted was to be Yoongi's wife and the mother of his children. Not the kind of ambition applauded by the teachers at the expensive boarding school where as she and her sister had been sent to learn to be "ladies". That had been Gran's idea. Though Gran's own origins were humble, she was a tremendous snob and hadn't approved of her eighteen-year-old Niaowie marrying a rough diamond like Park Jimin, even if he had gone on to make pots of money.

Gran wanted to see her granddaughters marrying men who were not only well off but also what she called well-spoken. To that end she had chivied her son-in-law into sending the girls to one of the most expensive and exclusive schools in England. To Gran's disappointment, her eldest grand daughter, Hyeonji, had fallen in love with a young man who had once spent a summer working in her mother's garden. He now had his own plant nursery and was a contented man., but he didn't make a lot of money. Jungkook and Hyeonji couldn't afford to support her mother. With two small children and another on the way, they didn't have a spare bedroom to offer her.

Had Gran known of Han Byeol's secret passion for the chauffeur's son, she would have disapproved, at least until his achievements at university had signaled an impressive future. The irony was that Gran would probably regard Kim Namjoon as a wonderful catch. She didn't think much of love as a basis for wedlock. She wouldn't admit it under torture, but her granddaughters suspected there had been a metaphorical shotgun in the background of her wedding, and the marriage hadn't been happy.

In the morning Han Byeol woke with a headache, result of too little sleep and too much wine the night before. Staying up late, she had finished the bottle. She spent the morning sorting out things in her bedroom and waiting for Kim Namjoon's call. When her cellphone remained silent, she should have been relieved. Instead she felt oddly uneasy.

What if he changed his mind? What if her animosity had made him have second thoughts? During his solitary dinner he might have decided he couldn't be bothered to wear down her opposition when there were plenty of women he could have for the asking. The longer she considered this scenario, the more it seemed to Han Byeol that she might have rejected in haste an opportunity she would live to regret turning down. As things stood, all the future offered was relative penury for her mother and a dull job for herself. It wasn't an attractive prospect.

The trade off Namjoon had suggested, suddenly she found herself thinking of him by the first name instead of his surname. Would mean they were miserable in comfort. But what about her side of the trade off; being the wife of a man she didn't love and who didn't love her?

Well, love, for long the first item on her private and personal wish list, had been crossed off the day Yoongi married Choon Hee. So that brought it down to the question of whether she could have sex with someone other than Yoongi in order to have some babies. They wouldn't have the father she dreamed of, but any father had to be better than none.

Thinking of sex with Namjoon, Han Byeol felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. He had all the physical makings of a good lover; his aura of animal magnetism deriving from a great body, a sensual mouth, hands that looked strong enough to crush, but also capable of performing the most delicate and subtle caresses. Just thinking about the components of his disturbing personality sent strange little quivers through her.

Even though still a virgin, her innocence saved as a gift for her first and only love, Han Byeol knew all the theory, knew what those frissons meant. She had recognized the passionate depths of her nature a long time ago. From the beginning of adolescence she had been excited and moved by amorous scenes in books and movies, recognizing her capacity to feel the same fiery emotions as the women in the stories and on the screen. But she also had a streak of idealism. After falling in love with Yoongi, keeping herself inviolate for him had seemed more important than indulging her natural curiosity about what it felt like to do things many of the other girls in her class had experienced as soon as they were sixteen.

A lot of them were the over-indulged, under disciplined children broken marriages. During the holidays they had too much pin money and not too much supervision. Several girls knew by sight hadn't completed their time at school. They had been expelled for serious misdemeanors raging from night time truancy to drugs. Fortunately although described as "lazy", "inattentive" and "irresponsible" in her school reports, Han Byeol had never been taken up by the group known to the serious minded girls at The Decadents. The fact that she was reserving herself for Yoongi would have debarred her from that clique. Although far from being a teacher's pet, from The Decadents' point of view Han Byeol was one of the girls they called The Nuns.

She was thinking about her lack of sexual experience and wondering what conclusions the detective had drawn about her in that respect, when the phone started to ring. She forced herself not to grab it, letting it ring six times before she said coolly, "Hello?"

"Good morning..."

If the distinctive voice at the other end of the line had mocked her about not leaving the phone off the hook, she would have cut the connection and dashed round the flat disconnecting all the extensions and turning her mobile off. But Namjoon didn't refer to her parting shot. He said, "I'd like to show you my library. Will you have lunch with me?"

She drew in her breath, knowing she was on the brink of one of the defining moments of her life. "If you're worried about being alone with me, you don't need to be," Namjoon went on. "My household is run by a staff who are far too respectable to stay with any employer who doesn't live up to their standards. But even if that were not so, I've already made it clear my intentions are honorable."

She could guess from the tone of his voice that there would be a sardonic quirk at the corner of his chiseled mouth. "All right," she said. "What time and where?"

When he had rung off, she looked at the exclusive address she had jotted down on the notepad and wondered why she had relented. Less than twenty four hours ago she had stormed out of his office, convinced she was out of his mind. Now she was going to have lunch with him. Had she gone out of hers? Before setting out of their lunch date, Han Byeol reread the file Namjoon sent her.

He was thirty four, six years older than herself. A bit age gap. It seemed likely that wasn't the only gulf between them. Kim, a merchant bank dealing long term loans for governments and institutions and advising one takeover bids, had been founded by his great grandfather. The controlling influence had been retained Kim Seokjin's descendants.

Unlike her father, Namjoon hadn't had to claw his way up from nothing. The facts in the file indicated that from birth he had been groomed for the position he occupied. But family influence couldn't have made him head boy at his public school if he hadn't lack the qualities needed for that position, nor it have gained him impressive degree at one of Korea's most prestigious universities. He had to have a brilliant brain.

So why pick someone as un brainy as me? Han Byeol wondered uneasily. She knew she had other equally important qualities and had never wanted to exchange them for a superior intellect. But for a man like Namjoon deliberately to select a female who operated by instinct rather than logic seemed strange, not to say suspect.

He lived in a large house in one of the most select squares in the ultra fashionable Gangnam. The butler opened the door to her and took her coat. A man in his fifties, dressed in ordinary dark suit with a discreet tie., he led her up sweeping staircase past the line of family portraits, ti a large first floor landing. As they reached it Namjoon was descending the stairs from the floor above. She noticed his dark hair was damped and wondered why. It seemed an odd time to take a shower.

"You're admirably punctual," he said, holding out his hand to her. As they hadn't shaken hands the day before, it was her first experience of the firm clasp of his fingers. Then he took her gently by the elbow to steer her across a rose and gold Aubusson carpet and through open double doors in an elegant drawing room with three tall windows over looking the city. Normally Han Byeol would have swept an appreciative glance around the beautiful room, taking in some of the details. Instead she was overwhelmed by the strength of her reaction on their first physical contact.

#BTS #BANGTAN SONYEONDAN #KIM NAMJOON #RM #LEADER BTS #BTSRM #RMXREADER #KIMNAMJOONXREADER #BTSFANFIC #BTSROMANTICFANFIC #BARTERED BRIDE

[lavieendonna]

Brushwork || ArtMajor!Calum AU (Chapter 29)

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA -  makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the semester learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 20 September 2019 Requested: no one cares   Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words: 3.8K Warnings: none! Except that if you try to find my master lists, most of the links are all fucked up because I haven’t gotten around to changing my url links from lavieencalum to lavieendonna. soz.  A/N: Christ on a cracker. It’s been.... literal months. But here is something to make up for it, although I know it won't. I already know that no-one reads this story any more so :) oh well. I just need to finish this for my own peace of mind. Anyway. 

Big Love xo 

Ask | Masterlist | ‘Brushwork’ Spotify Playlist | Next Chapter | Brushwork Mobile Masterlist | Chapter One | ‘Brushwork’ News | ‘Snapshot’

Chapter 29: It Was A Wonder Why I Didn’t Just Hold A Press Conference, Answer Everyone’s Questions, Then Proceed to Blow My Brains Out in Front of Them All.

I’d not really taken notice of the time since I’d arrived at the cinemas earlier in the evening. Not that I was there to see a movie or anything, no I was still too broke for that. But the cinemas down the street from the student residence had a quaint little eatery upstairs near the theatres. It was kind of like being in a pub (without the middle-aged men telling me to get out if I wasn’t going to let them cop a feel in the bathroom) and almost a little hipster, even – especially considering the cocktails all had ridiculous names (I was yet to figure out what was inside an ‘Illegal Alien’) and it served predominantly vegan (albeit delicious) food.

The Hideout was quiet and warm, and much more welcoming than either Bitters or The House. When I’d been laying around the apartment aimlessly feeling sorry for myself, I knew I needed to get out of the house and into a new space and this place had popped into my head. Calum and Ashton had brought Polly and me here once months ago, and though we’d had a great time we’d never come back. I wasn’t really sure why, because it never really came up in conversation either. It was just the kind of place that simply existed, almost like the way the four of us used to just exist.

It was almost kind of exciting working in my sketchbook and drawing in a new environment. There was soft jazz floating through the room and the coffee was better than anything anywhere on campus had to offer. There was something about the ambience that was putting me in the mood to just draw my dumb little heart out, and I didn’t really stop until the chick behind the bar wandered over for the first time since she’d delivered my last coffee over an hour ago.

“I think the last one went cold.” She offered a quirk of her brow and motioned quickly with her chin to the mug that sat on the table across from me still more than half full. She slid the new beverage onto the table next to the abandoned one, and sat herself down in the seat across the booth.

“Thanks,” I pursed my lips sheepishly, feeling as I melted slightly into the cushions of the booth and my cheeks burned a soft pink. “Sorry, I didn’t even realise I’d forgotten the other one.”

The girl shrugged but offered small crooked twitch of her lips which I guessed was supposed to be a smile.  

“Don’t be sorry.” She said simply, but almost kind of firmly. “You were in the zone, I could tell. Something on your mind?”

It sounded like the kind of line she should be asking me over at the bar while she wiped down the counter with a dirty dish rag after sliding me a beer that I would drink in a heartbeat then follow up with so many more this girl would have to haul me out to the curb by the waistband of my jeans. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen, but I couldn’t help but look at this girl and really feel like her job here at The Hideout was her calling. She really looked the part, her shaggy chestnut hair brushing her shoulders, the eyebrow piercing and the name badge that read ‘Rocky’ even though I was almost certain that wasn’t her real name. Her entire being just screamed ‘Mentoring Barkeeper’.

“I guess you could say that.” I said little vaguely, pulling the new coffee closing to me by the saucer and relishing in the taste. “Is it that obvious?”

Rocky made a face and I grimaced, knowing exactly what that meant.

“You’ve had the same crease in between your eyebrows since you walked in.” She said almost matter-of-factly, tapping the spot on her own forehead to make her point. I blinked and absent-mindedly reached for my brow.

“Really?” I practically squeaked.

“Don’t think too much about it.” She said with the hint of a wider smile twitching on her lips. “It makes it worse.”

“Oh, God.” I muttered other unintelligible things while Rocky chuckled lightly, though she looked thoroughly amused.

“What’s got you troubled?” Rocky asked again with a slightly tilted head. I sighed, pursing my lips. “Actually, let me guess.” Rocky’s face shifted, her mouth forming a small ‘O’ as her eyes narrowed on me and a glimmer of mischief flashed through dark irises terrifying me slightly. “This is about a boy.”

I blinked dumbly.

“How… How could you tell?” I asked, not even bothering to be ashamed and just genuinely impressed by Rocky’s observational skills. The girl offered me a slight, one-shouldered shrug and gave a smug smile.

“It’s a talent of mine.” She said matter-of-factly. “My theory is that I was clairvoyant in a past life.”

“You believe in reincarnation?” I couldn’t help but arch my brow incredulously. “And clairvoyance?”

“No.” Rocky deadpanned with a one-shouldered shrug. “But it hasn’t been overly busy in here lately so I have to amuse myself somehow.”

I laughed and Rocky grinned at me, mischief being replaced by a softer, more comforting expression before I sighed yet again – which made a lot of sense, considering my entire life up to this point was just one big sigh.

“I have no idea how to fix this.” I admitted glumly, and as I reflected on my own words I was beginning to realise that this was the first time I’d officially and whole-heartedly admitted that out loud. And it was to a complete stranger, no less!

“What happened?” Rocky asked. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

I had to stop myself from physically groaning at the inquiry. I was so over telling this story. Between my mother and my sister and Polly and now this girl – it was a wonder why I didn’t just hold a press conference when everything went down, answer everyone’s questions all at once then proceed to blow my brains out in front of them all.

I must have made a face that conveyed that entire thought pattern because Rocky’s hands went up, palms out as if in surrender.

“No, sorry. I get it.” She said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. I mean it’s not like you know me.”

“It’s not that,” I said immediately, even though that was (in part) a lie. “I’m just… this all started because I have a big mouth, that’s all.”

Rocky nodded slowly, but after a moment she leaned forward slightly and offered a calm, though slightly stoic, pursed-lipped half-smile.

“Look, I know we really don’t each other at all, and I gotta be honest, like, if the roles were reversed I probably would have told you to piss off by now.” I snorted and Rocky smiled too. “But you haven't done that, which means that whether or not you have a big mouth, you’re a good person. And you seem open to help, regardless of who it comes from.”

I had to sit and let Rocky’s words sink in for a moment while I took a long sip of my drink. Like she said, she was a total stranger, and yet she was under the impression that I, Dallas Noel James, was a good person. I couldn’t pinpoint why that meant so much to me, but it did.

“How do I show Calum that?” I found myself asking quietly. “How do I show him that… that I want his help? Like… specifically.”

Rocky seemed to stare at me for what seemed like longer than necessary, and for a moment I felt completely and utterly stupid for stooping so low as to ask someone I didn’t know for advice. I watched as a small frown formed between her shapely brows.

“His name is Calum?” She asked kind of dumbly.

“Uh… yes?”

Not for the first time since I’d arrived at The Hideout, Rocky narrowed her eyes at me, clearly deep in thought. “Huh.”

I blinked at her, kind of confused about how she managed to only take that away from my very genuine question.

“Why, uh… why do you ask?” I questioned when Rocky failed to elaborate on her ‘huh’. She tilted her head, right hand finding her chin while her eyes narrowed further.

“He wouldn’t happen to be, I don’t know… like six-foot-something? Dark hair, loads of tatts? The tall Māori kid, what’s-his-face… Hood!”

I couldn’t help the slightly creeped-out side-eye I gave Rocky as she described Calum to a T.

“Uh… yep. That’s… that’s him.” I said suspiciously. Rocky’s brow un-furrowed as realisation flooded her eyes and this kind of all-knowing smile finding plump lips.

“I should have known you were the girlfriend.” She said, almost proud that she’d put two and two together. “He was in here like a week ago telling me a very similar story.”

“Um…” I gulped, a shiver travelling up my spine though I wasn’t sure if it was because she knew who Calum was, because she���d now figured out who I was and what I’d done, or the fact that she’d just referred to me as ‘The Girlfriend’.  “Did… Is that what he said I was? His… his girlfriend?”

Rocky gave a light-hearted chuckle and shrugged.

“More or less.” She said vaguely with a casual wave of her hand. “But that’s beside the point.”

“It is?” I squeaked out and Rocky nodded.

“It is.” She repeated. “The point here, Dallas,is that you two are both clearly meant for each other.”

“Uh… I mean… um.” I stammered for a minute, almost thinking that I’d misheard her. I understood every word of Rocky’s sentence separately, but it was like the order she chose to put them in was completely foreign to me. Not to mention, I hadn’t even told her my name yet which meant she’d definitely heard it from someone – that someone being Calum.

“Hang on, how do you know Calum again?” I asked, partly because I was stalling so I could come up with something to say in response to Rocky’s statement, and partly because I was still really confused about her role in this.

“Oh, Cal buys my patches on Etsy.” She said as if it was supposed to be obvious to me that she sold patches on Etsy. “His sister has a jacket for them and I’m pretty sure they’re mostly mine.”

The jacket I borrowed from Mali that I’d worn to the Showcase came to mind and suddenly everything made sense. Calum told me himself, Mali knew someone who made custom jackets and he knew someone who made patches – and as it turned out, Calum’s someone was Rocky.

“Oh. Right.” I found myself saying carefully, nodding slowly and taking another sip of my drink that was, much like the last one, ever-so-slowly getting colder and colder. “Right, yeah, that… that makes sense.”

“Are you alright?” Rocky asked with an arched brow. “You look kind of… green.”

“I’m…” I did what I could to laugh. “Yeah, that’s kind of normal for me these days.”

“Is it what I said?” She asked, softer now. “About you and Cal?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” I ensured her, shaking my head quickly. “I just…” I looked at Rocky, almost with a bit of hope. “Do you really think so? What you said about us?”

Rocky didn’t say anything, though she did give me that small crooked smile of hers again and nodded once.

It took a few moments, but slowly I let myself smile back a little.

Rocky’s eyes flickered down to the workbook I was slaving over, her smile disappearing as she gestured with her chin to the piece I’d been working on all afternoon.

“Whatcha working on anyway?” She asked, and although I felt good about our conversation about my predicament, I was glad for the change of pace.

“Oh, um.” I looked down at the sketch, the wings of the butterfly not quite finished yet. It was nice, I guessed, but there were eraser shavings all over the page still. “It’s just… I don’t really know, actually. It was supposed to be a design for a tattoo but it’s, uh. It’s not done yet.”

I leaned back away from the book so that Rocky could lean forward, and I watched as she reached forward and pulled the book closer to her. She gave a small chuckle, nodding with what looked like an impressed expression.

“The rubber shavings make it look like that half of it the butterfly is made of shattered glass.” She commented and I looked down at the page again, really trying to see what she could.

“Huh.” I almost mumbled out. “I guess it does.”

“This is wicked,” Rocky nodded at me approvingly as she flicked through the book’s pages slowly. “You are one amazing artist, you know that?”

“Ah,” I gave a humble shrug, a small pursed lip smile finding my lips. “I’m alright.”

“No, really.” She said seriously, pausing on a set of sketches and running her fingers delicately over the lines. I lifted my chin slightly and peered over the top of the sketchbook to see what had caught Rocky’s attention, my cheeks flushing pink when I realised that she’d found the very first drafts of the ballerinas we modelled the mural after. “These are… Jesus, girl, there are stunning.”

Rocky was practically speechless as she stared at the pages, turning each one so gently it was like she thought they might disintegrate at the touch. And I was speechless too; I almost couldn’t remember the last time I let somebody look at all of the work that was supposed to be only for me.

“They are, aren’t they?”

A new voice joined us in the booth, both Rocky and I looking up in a flash to see who it belonged to. Rocky beamed at the new addition, excitement glistening in her eyes as she greeted him and closed my sketchbook softly. I, on the other hand, did my best not to projectile vomit in my new friend’s face, and felt myself melt into the leather cushions in an attempt to become invisible.

“Ah, speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, am I right?” Rocky said cheekily. Calum laughed, though I could tell he was holding back on my account.

“Pretty sure you’ve been here all along, Rock.” He shot back and Rocky’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ as she feigned offense.

“I prefer the term diavola, actually.” She said very concisely, though her smile was wicked and playful.  

“More like Satan’s Mistress.” Calum snickered, and even I couldn’t help the snort that forced its way through my throat. I immediately regretted the noise, too, because it meant I was no longer invisible – not that I ever was – and Calum’s attention turned to me.

“Hey, D.” He said carefully with the tiniest hint of a smile I’d ever seen him offer anyone. With a quick, terrified glance at Rocky (namely, my only support system at this exact point in time), I gulped like my life depended on it before pursing my lips together in a very similar, tiny, tiny smile.

“Cal, hey…” I said, although it was hoarse and half-choked because my throat had spontaneously gone dry. I cleared my throat, and while I was feeling almost confident for a split second and thought I might actually be able to get out the words I’d been dying to say, it all disappeared in an instant and I was overridden with fear once again. “I, um. I was just… leaving.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Rocky interjected loudly, making me jump a little and turning Calum’s initial disappointed expression into an incredulous arched brow. Rocky wasn’t bothered in the slightest, she just shuffled herself out of the booth and somewhat pushed Calum into her place. “I’m gonna go get you guys some milkshakes. Calum, usual?”

Calum gave a stiff nod and Rocky almost floated away, oblivious to the shitstorm McFlurry she’d just created and left behind, or – and this was more likely – she was aware and she didn’t give a shit at all.

There hung an awkward silence in the air that Rocky left behind, neither me or Calum knowing what to say. I did what I could to avoid eye contact, but eventually I let my gaze wander to his face and, lo and behold, he was already looking at me.

“It’s, uh. It’s Strawberry, right?” I spluttered out like an idiot and, as suspected, Calum’s brow lifted.

“What?” He asked with a slightly amused chuckle. I cleared my throat again because I could just feel the moisture leaving me from the inside out, but also because I needed a hot second just get a grip.

“The milkshake.” I said with a little more conviction. “You usually get strawberry.” I decided not to ask him this time and just point it out. And, apparently, it was the right move. Calum smiled gently and it took everything I had in me not to melt at how much I missed that.

“You remembered.” He said, impressed.

I shrugged, stealing a glance over to the counter across the way where Rocky was still eyeing us up as she made our drinks painfully slowly. I watched as she made a face before turning her back to us, giving Calum and I what little privacy she was willing to give us. My face flushed pink and for a moment it was almost like Polly was still here.

When I turned back to Calum he looked, not exactly troubled but like he was waiting for me to be the one to mention the elephant in the room. I gave a small sigh because even I knew that it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want it to be, but there was rarely a time in my life where I got what I wanted anyway so I bit the bullet and did what I could to gather some kind of sentence that resembled every last thought I’d had for the past few weeks.

“Listen, Calum,” I breathed out, and Calum perked up at the sound of his name like he’d missed the way I said it or something so equally as cliché that it belonged in a Nicholas Sparks novel. “I want… no, I need to apologise.”

“You were upset, Dallas,” Calum was already trying to defend me and I wish I surprised by that but I just wasn’t. “All of the things you said… I don’t blame you for that.”

“You should blame me for that.” I half-scoffed. “I said some shitty things to you, Cal. But that’s not what I’m apologising for.”

“It’s not?” He asked and I shook my head.

“No.” I confirmed. “No, I… I pushed you away. And not even just a little, like, I tried to throw you out of my life. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Calum’s smile that he gave was warm and understand and everything I didn’t deserve after what I’d put him through. And it made my bottom lip quiver, but I refused to sob. Because I was better than that.

“D, you don’t have to be sorry.” He said softly, his hands finding the surface of the table like he was thinking about reaching for me but wasn’t too sure if he should just yet. “I get it, it was a crazy time –”

“I do need to be sorry, Calum.” I interjected a little more aggressively than I had intended, but I think the desperation was clear in the way that my voice jumped an octave half way through the sentence. “I’ve spent the last three years stuck inside my own head and too debilitated by my own fear to see that when things went wrong in my life, it was my own fault. I convinced myself that I was no good at anything so it couldn’t possibly have been my fault that things blew up. You were right, Cal. I was full of shit. And you were only trying to help me through it but I… I pushed you away. And I’m… I’m so sorry for that.”

Usually this was the moment that Calum would get up and sit next to me, hold me close and tell me that it was going to be okay and that he was going to stick by me anyway. But he didn’t. He just looked at me a little sadly, patiently waiting for me to go one. Because he knew I wasn’t even close to done.

“You scare me.” I felt myself saying, and I didn’t even mean to but it tasted like the truth in my mouth. Calum’s eyes widened in confusion, though he didn’t look hurt.

“What?” He almost chuckled. “How? Why?”

I laughed now, though it was more of a reflex.

“Because!” I said dumbly. “You… you make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me. Like I’m not a complete mess.”

“But you’re not,” He said, eyes narrowing at me slightly as if his statement was supposed to be obvious. “You’re, like, a regular mess. A standard, average mess for our age group in the twenty-first century.”

Brown eyes glistened through a cheeky grin and I laughed, though there were tears on my cheeks. That being said, I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t actually sure I could identify the emotion that I was feeling, all I knew was that there was something liberating about being able to talk to Calum again.

“It’s just that, for a while there…” I gave a small sigh, my gaze dropping. “Being a mess was all I knew how to be. And when you came along and made me feel normal… I didn’t know how to be that. How to be… what you wanted.”

When I looked up again, Calum was getting up and sliding himself into my side of the booth to sit next to me, one arm sneaking around my shoulders as he smiled gently.

“It’s okay, D.” He said softly. “You’re already everything I wanted, and you don’t need to try so hard to be perfect. Because you are so, so great.”

A smile slowly finding its way across my lips, warmth spreading through my chest so much it felt like I might burst. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach fluttering with excitement, Calum’s lips inching closer and closer to mine.

Somehow this moment in time was simultaneously fondly familiar yet excitingly new all at once. It was kind of like living in a dream, only one of those lucid ones where you’re fully aware of your surroundings and have the power to change it.

That’s what it felt like, having Calum’s lips press against mine again. It felt powerful.  

“Aw, well would you look at that.” Rocky’s voice was followed by two relatively loud thuds on the table, scaring the living daylights out of me. “As my Nonna would say; l’amore vince sempre.”

The girl pushed two milkshakes towards us, one strawberry and one chocolate. My cheeks were still flushing a brilliant red as I melted into the seat yet again, Calum rolling his eyes but still chuckling as he reached for the drinks.

“Always one for subtlety, Rock.” He sighed before looking back at me with glimmering brown eyes.

#mine #ch au #5sos au #calum hood au #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #5sos fanfiction #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer au #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer blurb #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfic #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #writing #fanfiction #novel #writer

[gotatext]

PREFERRED NAME — nora. i think i started going by it in like, 2009?? my full name is eleanor but i hated it n thought it was way too pretentious n i never felt like it fitted me so when i started writing on forums i decided i’d be a nora rather than eleanor and then my school friends called me it and it just kinda stuck, the only person who calls me eleanor is my mum

PRONOUNS — she / her / ethereal being beyond comprehension

AGE — 23 but i tell everyone im 21 because even tho time is literally fake im desperately clinging to that fleeting thing we call youth trying to catch it like smoke in my hands

PINTEREST — i actually have two. this one is my main one where i just cram all my shit n i’ve had it for years and some of its super unorganised. then i also have this one which is one i made for exclusively female characters. it started as mythological figures but now its like, women in literature and the occasional oc as well. variety is the spice of life!

DISCORD — lindsay lohan’s meth#8664

TUMBLR (PERSONAL/MUSE/RPH) — i used to be froseths but now im pvrscphones cos ya gal is a fucking whore for mythology 

OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE — oi oi guvna ere’s me twitta. also here’s my letterboxd n my goodreads if anyone still uses tht

MYER-BRIGGS — enfp / infp border .... the classic profile of a lit student

HP HOUSE — hufflepuff, am fuckin mad. 

ZODIAC — libra which is a joke because i am in no way balanced but i guess i AM indecisive and a peacekeeper so?

DO YOU BELIEVE IN ASTROLOGY? — i believe it when it says good shits gonna happen in my life and blame it if bad shit happens but i don’t strongly follow it i just find it interesting

HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU STARTED RPING ON TUMBLR — maybe like 14?? my first rp blog here is literally so embarassing i wrote as clove from the hunger games n my best friend irl wrote cato :/ it was wild

WHAT YEAR WAS IT? — like 9 years ago?? 2010 maybs

NAME A RANDOM ROLEPLAY THAT STICKS OUT IN YOUR MEMORY — me n my friend ellie made this really cool group the summer before we left for uni which was loosely based on a concept mentioned mayb once in the divergent series, but it gave us loads of freedom to make it our own thing. it was called the fringe n it was like..... this dystopian society where people with different genes were cut off from the rest of society n lived in overrun slum cities where different groups had like, a monopoly over weapons, produce, etc.... my character jack was the leader of this lost-boy-esque tribe called the wolf pack who were hunters n used to run across the rooftops wearing the skins of animals they’d killed and engage in tribal rituals with sacrifices to the gods n shit. sounds lame but everyone there was so invested in their character arcs that it was a shame to see it go. but ! it kind of reached its end point so we blew it up w nukes n they all died. tragic.

WHAT WEIRD ANIMAL WOULD YOU HAVE AS A PET IF IT WAS REALISTIC — a fox?? do ppl keep foxes? idk i’ve always just felt a sense of connection w them like when a fox stares at me im like this shit is life i am living and breathing in this bitch.... visceral

NAME THE FIRST SONG ON YOUR DISCOVER WEEKLY ON SPOTIFY OR THE FIRST SONG THAT COMES ON APPLE MUSIC / ITUNES SHUFFLE — everbody party tonight by cobra man n summer girl by haim..... not my usual stuff but big summer chillin vibes,.....

NAME A BOOK THAT YOU READ IN SCHOOL THAT YOU SURPRISINGLY LIKED — lord of the flies and also the handmaid’s tale. one of assignments was to write a chapter from another character’s perspective n i chose moira

NAME A BOOK YOU HATED THAT MOST PEOPLE LIKED — skellig. fuck off with ur asprin ugly bat man i don’t care. also of mice and men. don’t care about the rabbits or curley’s goddamn wife.

WHAT TV SHOW DID YOU RECENTLY BINGE? — im not a big binger bc i find it jst makes me depressed if i watch tv all day but im nearly finished stranger things season 3 n i recently finished euphoria (big rec but proceed w caution as quite triggering content)

FAVOURITE QUOTE — cool girl speech from gone girl. but also “there’s something dangerous about the boredom of teenage girls” i know its like.... such an overused quote but it really encapsulates this kind of feral girlhood that a few of my characters like bridget n greta have tapped into. i also loved the line “i feel like i could eat the world raw” from song of achilles, that really captures this kind of.... pure n childlike enthusiasm tht i wanna achieve w rory 

LINK TO A VINE THAT EXUDES YOUR ‘ENERGY’ — this is my energy completely am always covered in glitter n staring broodily out of the windows of ubers at 4am like im in the sad bit of an indie film 

DO YOU WRITE OUTSIDE OF RP? WHAT DO YOU WRITE? — uhh.... not as much as i shd.... i want to be a writer so i shd be makin some effort to get my stuff Out Into The World but im just not.... lol. ive done a lot of poetry collections . i wnt to finish a novel @ some point too.

THREE YOUTUBERS YOU STILL TRUST — bold of you to assume i trust any youtubers

A CELEBRITY CRUSH THAT JUST WON’T QUIT — id literally die for saoirse ronan n timothee chalamet :/ chance perdomo also owns my ass. 

EVER MEET A CELEBRITY? SHARE YOUR STORY — i once high-fived dani harmer, the actress who played tracy beaker. today my sister text me tryin to make me guess what celebrity she just saw on holiday in wales and for ages she let me think it was timmothee but it was actually bradley walsh from the chase :/

WHAT’S YOUR PICTURE-PERFECT NIGHT? — i am in a bomb ass crop top and mini skirt, several scrunchies in my hair, glitter all over my face, wearing cowboy boots. we eat dinner in a trendy but affordable pub that doubles up as a cocktail bar n then we drink zombies or sex on the beaches n go to a rave where everyone is on the same wavelength n i share drugs with girls in the toilets and we swap numbers knowing we will never text each other but its ok bc in that moment we feel like we are soulmates and everyone is super drunk n touching everyone else n its all very visceral and we walk through the woods when the rave ends and lie in the grass because we wish to suck out all the marrow of life 

A CONSPIRACY THEORY YOU KINDA BELIEVE IN — princess diana was murdered 

ARE ALIENS REAL? — maybe the real aliens are the friends we made along the way

PLAY ANY PHONE GAMES? WHICH ONES? — love island game im addicted and way too invested in my fictional relationship with bobby, a cartoon

WHAT’S A FILM YOU LOVED WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG AND RECENTLY WATCHED, ONLY TO FIND OUT YOU DON’T ANYMORE — bold of u to assume i remember my childhood. but if we’re talking last 10 years angust, thongs n perfect snogging is so so cringe 

DO YOU COLLECT ANYTHING? — pairs of glasses belonging to other ppl when they break / get new ones even though i can see perfectly well. 

WHAT’S SOMETHING YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT BUT YOU’RE TOO LAZY? — mythology...... always a craving and a wish i’d read like ancient texts but my school wasn’t good enough to do greek or latin or any of that shit n even tho i could read english translations i cant be bothered. also criminal psychology

THREE LANGUAGES YOU DON’T SPEAK, BUT WISH YOU COULD — italian, french and latin

MOVIE YOU’VE WATCHED MORE THAN 5 TIMES — ladybird, about time, angus thongs, shrek 2, what we do in the shadows, the history boys, atonement, coraline, the breakfast club, ferris bueller’s day off

NAME A FICTIONAL CHARACTER FROM TV/FILM/MOVIE/GAME/BOOK THAT YOU FIND YOURSELF PROJECTING ON / YOU RELATE TO — cecilia lisbon. rue in euphoria. alison brie in glow. adam parrish in the raven cycle. richard papen. olivia cooke’s character in thoroughbreds. allen ginsberg in kill your darlings. lily in sex education. holliday grainger’s character in the film animals --- i too am an aspiring writer who never writes and just gets drunk instead .

DO YOU FOLLOW ANY SPORTS? WHO DO YOU ROOT FOR? — no. cba

HOBBIES BESIDES WASTING AWAY HERE? — i go to the movies basically every day bcos i work in a cinema. im also a voracious reader n i occasionally do theatre or costume making

PLUG A TV SHOW / MOVIE / BOOK / VIDEO GAME / ETC… YOU WISH MORE PEOPLE WOULD CHECK OUT — where the wild things are (film by spike jonze).  animals. beats. the book fen by daisy johnson and a girl is a half formed thing by eimar mcbride. andy warhol’s biography from a to b and back again

WHOSE BRAIN WOULD YOU LIKE TO PICK, ALIVE OR DEAD? — phoebe waller-bridge on how i get her life. carey mulligan on how she got to be such a good actress n how i can become her. maybs wes anderson. maybs gillian flynn. i tend to listen to podcasts w the ppl i really wanna pick the brains of.

TEAM EDWARD OR JACOB? — edward :/

LAST MOVIE SEEN IN THEATRE — blinded by the light n i lovd it

DO YOU STILL READ? — when i finished uni i kinda got out of the habit but this week i finished two books so ive set myself the challenge of a book a week.

IF SO, WHAT ARE YOU CURRENTLY READING? — i finished song of achilles yesterday n i also finished call me by your name yesterday. started circe by madeline miller today, im also partway through milkman by anna burns and the plays of annie barker

ON A SCALE OF 1-10, HOW MUCH DID YOU HATE FILLING THIS OUT? – 3 i didnt hate it bcos at heart i am self-indulgent and love fashioning some sense of self when i feel lost in a world that is scary and constantly changing 

#wshedtask002

[artificialqueens]

lying on the moon (pearlet) - fannyatrollop

A/N: Hello! Here’s the companion piece to sunshine, and glory too that was not strictly asked for, but that I am presenting to the public. I like Pearlet a lot, and felt that that ship was lacking in the main fic. So I gave them their own little fic!

Anyway, here’s a little fluffy piece about Queen Violet and her mistress, Pearl.

When Violet went to her husband’s court, Pearl had the option of retiring to her own estate. Even if it wasn’t being let out to her sister at the time, she still chose to remain in her rooms at the palace rather than quitting it for her little retreat.

“I gave you the house so you wouldn’t have to be here all on your own,” Violet said, when she returned to her. “Not just so that your sister could use it as a love nest.”

“I know,” Pearl replied. “But you also gave me these very fine rooms, where I keep all my things. I can wait here just as well.”

It wasn’t horrible, staying at the palace. She knew where she could go if she wanted to see portraits of Violet, some from her childhood and a few more recent ones. There was some remodeling being done in the gardens, and Pearl enjoyed going out to see how that was coming along. Mostly, she kept to her sitting room and occupied herself with needlework. She bothered no one, and as she had proven herself to be no mastermind for intrigue, to have no interest in politics, and even less of a concern for furthering the ambitions of others, nobody disturbed her. If she had been a queen consort, she would have been lauded for her virtuous conduct. As it was, she was said to be the most boring royal mistress in recent history.

Pearl had been placed in the same rooms as Violet’s great grandfather’s beloved mistress. He had built the palace as it stood in the present, and had created a tunnel that connected the king’s quarters to his love. Violet’s father had given these rooms to his queen, and now Pearl had the privilege of using them. No matter the time of day, when the queen returned from a journey Pearl knew that she could expect her to arrive in her quarters within the hour, ready for bed. Her hair would be plaited for sleep, but Pearl always wanted it undone. Violet would sit perfectly still while she got it loose.

Violet would be so soft when she first came home. She complained that there was no conceivable way for a person to rest while travelling, so she was always dreadfully tired when she arrived at her destination. Pearl stroked her hair, her back, her sides, wherever her hands chose to go as she listened to this familiar refrain. She could feel her drifting off to sleep, and laid kisses on her temple to show how happy she was to have her in her bed grumbling about roads, about the inefficiency of travel in their world.

“I must commission someone to invent something better,” she said, her words heavily distorted by a yawning pause in the middle.

Pearl understood, though. She kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll remind you tomorrow.”

Pearl was a kind mistress. When the queen came to her within an inch of dreaming, it was best to coax her all the way to sleep. When she had her rest, and regained her strength, then they could play. But on those first nights, she would hang on until Violet went still, until her breathing evened out. Violet had told her that she never laid with the king like this, that she would retire to her own rooms when they were done conducting business, as she called it.

Having the most powerful woman in the kingdom clutching at her like a child’s comfort toy sent a giddy burst of butterflies right to the pit of her stomach. Having that woman be Violet only cemented how loved Pearl had been by sweet providence, how blessed her existence was.

***

Early in her reign, Violet liked to play a little trick on her ministers.

Many of the men charged with the nitty gritty business of running the kingdom had been employed thus since her father’s reign. Violet had seen no reason to give her cabinet a complete overhaul when she became queen. These men may be stuffy, and grumbled plenty about having to answer to a queen rather than a king for the first time in the history of their kingdom, but they were capable men.

Still, Violet heard how they moaned and groaned in anticipation of her accession to the throne for years. In the first year they spent together, Violet told Pearl about this, and confided in her that it had always made her angry. So, she used her capacity for speed against them.

If she moved with purpose, Violet could outpace just about anyone with her long legs. She would appear to float as she walked, even when she did so at a remarkably brisk pace. The queen could often be seen striding at top speed, not breaking the smallest sweat, with a minister huffing and puffing behind her. She was good at settling her scores that way; majestic even at the height of her pettiness.

In her public role, Violet would never cede authority. Why should she? She was queen by right. So long as she was in her own country, she was entitled to the final say in any major decision. If she had a taste for blood, Pearl shuddered to think of how the kingdom would be governed. Thankfully, Violet had a disdain for war ingrained in her at a young age, and was more interested in presiding over a cultural golden age than terrorizing the populace.

Violet’s forcefulness would be scary if she hadn’t been so gentle with Pearl from the start. Pearl had expected the crown princess to be haughty and remote before meeting her for the first time. That’s how she’d been described to her by her mother, who knew everything there was to know about the royal family from Lady Eleanor, an idle cousin of hers, who dedicated her life to observing them.

“She will hardly ever look at a person,” Lady Eleanor would say. “Always keeping to herself, and to her faerie. She walks around with her nose stuck in the air. Very pretty face and figure, but she acts like an ancient goddess.”

“I thought we let the royals stay in charge because the gods sent them down to rule over us,” Pearl’s mother drawled. “She might as well be that way—she’s the crown princess.”

Lady Eleanor then muttered, “Well, it isn’t very amiable of her.”

To Pearl’s surprise, Violet had looked right at her when they first spoke. She later claimed that she had stood right next to her for quite some time before she finally laid a hand on her shoulder, so that Pearl could face her. Pearl almost bumped her head against her when she bowed in respect of her presence, so mortified from not having noticed the crown princess that she did not remember to curtsy like a lady.

Violet had covered her mouth, to help stifle a laugh.

If Trixie hadn’t reappeared with two glasses of champagne, Violet would have taken her away from the grand hall so they could talk more easily. She wasn’t keen on making small talk with her sister. While she had Pearl to herself, though, Violet asked her questions and regarded her warmly as she spoke. She came across as interested and patient. Pearl would grow more and more certain that she must have talked nothing but nonsense looking back on it. Her mind had emptied itself of its contents the longer she had Violet’s eyes on her.

Perhaps Violet liked nonsense.

***

Pearl had always been gentle. She was not a fussy baby; it was said that Trixie cried twice as much on her behalf. They must have agreed on that while they were still in the womb. Trixie went quiet too as she grew up, but her presence was always very loud. Her moods were rolling thunder. Pearl never liked to be singled out, but for some reason she was the one who was noticed, while Trixie was ignored.

She almost thought it best to refuse Violet when she asked her to become her companion. It was easier to accept when she could smooth things over so that Trixie could come along too. Her conscience was more at ease that way.

They had been spending innocent nights together for weeks when Violet asked if she could kiss her.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Pearl said. Her heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of her chest.

It was dark, and Pearl could not quite see how red Violet’s cheeks got.

“I only want to do it,” said the princess, haltingly. “If it would please you. And I’ve told you to call me Violet.”

Violet never stumbled over her words before in the time Pearl had known her. Pearl worried for her comfort, all the while thinking it precious to hear her like that.

“I wish you’d say my name.”

She said it so sweetly, Pearl couldn’t possibly deny her.

“Well, Violet,” she said. “You mustn’t hesitate, then. Kiss me.”

They were both girls back then, really.

Pearl believed Violet to be more learned about the world, having been groomed to rule while Pearl focused on accruing feminine accomplishments.

Violet understood how their country was governed, had the freedom to associate with whomever she pleased, as her father believed she ought to grow accustomed to having the freedom to conduct her life as she pleased, and felt comfortable telling rather than asking for the most part. Pearl knew how to run a household in theory, and was discouraged from making friends outside of her mother’s circle of acquaintances. Violet’s father took her to survey their domains every other time he found reason to leave the capital. Pearl always considered it an event when she was permitted to go somewhere that wasn’t the village near her house, and even then she was taught that she had no need to show her face around those parts, because she was a lady.

Still, Violet didn’t kiss her without asking. After getting her consent, Violet shut her eyes and slowly let them drift onto Pearl’s, light as a feather.

Pearl pulled her in closer.

***

Pearl wasn’t sure she had much of a personality until she actively sought to develop a sense of it. When she finally had the space to get to know herself, she began to take inventory of her own thoughts. She kept mental lists of the things she truly liked, of what she really thought of the world around her. She’d grown up thinking her head was perfectly hollow, and sought to correct that.

The crown princess loved her by then, and would get sad if Pearl said anything disparaging about herself in her presence.

Trixie came into her own when she fell in love, suffered heartbreak, and had to build herself back up from that experience. She regained that love in due time, but she once told Pearl that she was certain of having gained her individuality because of that journey. Pearl would argue that Trixie had always been the more individual of the two of them, but she did grow into a less sullen, bitter woman than she might have otherwise. Pearl thanked the gods for that.

Pearl liked working with her hands. This was usually in the form of needlework. She embroidered handkerchiefs, and used her skill when she needed to alter clothing. She was never a dressmaker, but she took pride in what she could do. When she was young, she only had Trixie to gift her work to, and she had always wanted to have more friends she could think of when she worked. Violet received a lot of her work over the years, and the more people she grew to like, the more gifts she could give. When she was settled as the queen’s mistress, she thought she might enjoy the challenge of weaving tapestries.

She had a good ear for music, and enjoyed listening to others play. She had decent skill on the pianoforte, but had left mastery of musical instruments for Trixie to find her niche in. Trixie was always quicker with them anyway. Violet liked to bring her to concerts, and to have her be present when musicians petitioned her for patronage. Violet valued her opinion when it came to these things.

Quiet moments were more to Pearl’s taste. Violet would moderate her pace in consideration to her preference if they went on walks together. Pearl liked to enjoy life at a slow pace, and as she grew older, she only became firmer in her mission to trod along like a tortoise as much as she could. She did not need excitement.

She gladly received gifts from Trixie, who travelled the world with her beloved Katya and their dragon, from the comfort of her apartments in the royal palace. Pearl liked reading her letters, but she saw no point in making any long trips without someone to share them with. At most, she accepted invitations from friends to their country homes. Once, Violet took her to a house she was given by her husband, on his ancestral lands by the sea. It was the farthest she’d travelled since Violet’s days at the Royal Academy.

Pearl had more freedom to mingle with other people than ever, but while she did occasionally enjoy making a new acquaintance from time to time, she found that she liked to keep her inner circle small. She only cared about minding her business, and enjoying her queen’s company. Anyone who thought her pitiful for it could shove it.

She loved Violet when she snuck winks at her after making a public speech. She liked it when she was able to sway Violet’s opinion about a concert or play they saw together, but she loved it when Violet would be so impressed that she would stand up and loudly applaud the performance unprompted. She loved Violet in her full regalia, and the comfort she felt in her own authority.

She loved how Violet came apart in her bed. She was like a doll; Pearl undid her hair so that it tumbled down her back, just the way she liked it. She’d lift her arms so Pearl could get her nightshift off. She was soft, pliant. At first, in the rooms Violet had been provided with at the Academy, neither of them knew what to do with a lover’s body. It was always slow, hesitant, patient but tender. It mostly stayed that way, in that it was still slow, but more deliberate. Pearl never knew she liked being in charge before they met, but she came to learn that she did, if only when it meant having Violet trembling under her. She liked making her ball her hands up into fists and hold them above her head while she had her way with her. They knew Pearl could just tie her wrists together, but she enjoyed making her hold them still herself.

Pearl loved that Violet trusted her enough to let her have all the control. She loved kissing her gently, telling her how good she was for her.

She loved hearing Violet’s small, sleepy voice saying that she loved her.

***

Queens did not die in childbirth, not when they had faeries by their side. They may fall to sudden illness, but the birthing bed would never have them.

Even so, Pearl could feel her teeth clenching when Violet delivered her first daughter. Fame knelt at Violet’s side, holding her hand as she screamed, and Pearl wished she could be there in her place. She knew Fame had to be there, that it would help Violet survive, but it was all she could do not to rush to her side. She focused on not fainting until it was over, and the little princess was taken away so she could be made presentable to her royal mother.

“Well done,” she said, when she was finally allowed near the queen.

“Don’t cry,” Violet said, her voice hoarse. “I’ll be just fine.”

Pearl hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

Violet chose Alice for her first daughter’s name. The second, born a mere three years after her sister, was called Mary. There would be no more children after the two princesses; Violet was adamant that she had only promised her husband two children.

“There is no law forbidding girls from inheriting his throne,” she reasoned. “And I would not be where I am if mine was limited thus.”

Violet was the quintessential royal mother. Her lifestyle was not altered much to accommodate children. Their upkeep was mostly left to their faeries and the various attendants every royal child was entitled to. Violet attended to her queenly duties, found solace in Pearl, and when she had a moment, liked to visit her girls if only to make sure they remembered that they had a mother.

Violet once told Pearl that she couldn’t hold her daughters without being afraid of dropping them.

“It’s different with you,” she said. “You’re the one keeping me from falling.”

Princess Alice would sometimes ask her faerie to visit Pearl. The faerie, a prim-looking, dark haired woman, would grandly inform her that Alice wished to have her over for tea.

“The princess,” she’d say. “Would like to know if you are getting on well with your work, and if you should be ready to show it to her, wishes for you to bring it so that she might see it. She wants you to know that she should one day like to use the needle as well as you do.”

Alice would sometimes forget that Pearl needed to curtsy first when they crossed paths. She called her “Lady Duchess”, and Pearl had to stifle a laugh every time she said it. She was fair haired, but her eyes were Violet’s, and it was strange to see them on her chubby little face.

Because she would likely be Violet’s heir, Alice was encouraged to occasionally address the public. Small speeches would be written for her in advance, and she would ask Pearl to listen to her practice. She’d tell her that she only wanted her Mama to hear her when she got it right. On the day she’d have to deliver them, Violet would stand off to the side, and hold her arms open so that Alice could run into them when she was finished.

“When she’s older, that won’t do at all,” Violet would say, later in the evening, her head nestled on Pearl’s chest. Pearl rubbed tiny circles at the base of her neck.

“I hope she will be good,” Violet sighed. “She’s not like me. I’m not sure if I’m teaching her how I should.”

Pearl assured her that Alice would be just fine.

“She will be loved.”

Mary would fix her big, green eyes on Pearl when they crossed path, and silently wait until she curtsied before slowly extending her hand so Pearl could take it. She never made a single move until Pearl paid her the respects due to her as the queen’s daughter. She acted like this with everyone, save for her parents and her faerie.

While Alice was open and affectionate, Mary was quiet and reserved. There was something unknowable about her. Violet made an effort to give Alice the hugs she requested, but Mary would squirm until she was released if anyone tried to hold her after a certain age. When she learned to walk on her own, she would shriek if she was not permitted to waddle along on her own two feet.

Mary found her life’s great love in horseback riding. She had a habit of speeding past her attendants on horseback, sparking an intense chase. The young princess would blithely revel in feeling the wind blowing through her hair with her terrified entourage at her heel. Mary had no concept of how horrifying it would be for the queen’s youngest daughter to perish in a riding accident on her servants’ watch.

When Violet was asked to step in, she obliged. But she couldn’t help finding her daughter’s daredevil antics strangely amusing.

“She’s exactly like you,” Pearl breathed, when she spoke of it with Violet.

Violet laughed. “Not at all. I was never so daring.”

The king grew to feel affection towards his little daughters, but they were still reared on Violet’s lands for the most part. As children, they had no way of truly understanding how Pearl fit into their mother’s life. Pearl took care to learn how each princess preferred to be doted upon, and thus gained their esteem.

Pearl never regretted pursuing a life that would deny her the opportunity to have children of her own. Stil, she had been there when Violet’s came into the world both times. She thought that was why they were so interesting to her, why she delighted in watching them grow.

One day, Mary motioned for Pearl to lower herself so she could whisper into her ear.

“I love you,” she said. “Because Mama loves you.”

Pearl had to remember that Princess Mary did not like to be scooped into big hugs. Instead, she gave her hand a little squeeze.

***

When Pearl was first established in the palace, Fame took her on a tour of the armoury. There, among all the instruments of war available to the kingdom, she cheerfully informed her that none of those things could truly injure any of her people.

“I can assure you, though,” Fame said, smiling benignly all the while. “That I need no arms to be dangerous.”

Pearl felt a creeping fear seeping from her core. She returned Fame’s smile with a tight-lipped one of her own.

“I can only be grateful that Her Majesty has you to protect her.”

Pearl wondered, later on, if Fame had said something similar to the king.

Violet once told Pearl that she’d initially thought her lack of connections made her an ideal companion.

“You do not come with any complications,” she explained. “Nobody truly knows you, so you don’t bring a tangled web of intrigue with you. Only an impertinent mother and a troublesome sister. Nothing I cannot handle.”

When Pearl held her in her arms, naked and flushed from their lovemaking, Violet told her that she was been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. That she hadn’t known what to do with herself when she’d first spotted her.

“I thought you were an angel.”

Pearl laughed, giving her shoulder a little squeeze.

“I’ll try to be an angel if you want me to be,” she said.

Violet raised herself so that their noses touched. Hers was the most perfect face Pearl knew, and no matter how many years went by them, she never stopped thinking that.

“You needn’t try to be anything. I already love you.”

#rpdr fanfiction #pearlet #pearl liaison #violet chachki #miss fame #fluff #sagt #fannyatrollop #royalty au #fairytale au #lesbian au #historical au

[haven-raven012591]

Just One Day

                 Intro: Soul Mates happen Anywhere

Words: 3,567

The following are the stories of when “Just One Day” becomes the beginning of what could be a lifetime. Seven boys brought together by fate would be brought together with seven ordinary girls by fate again. When these boys were brought together in 2013, they only had dreams. As they rose to fame they began to dream of more. Now six shorts but very long years later they are not only the most well-known “Idol” group in Seoul, South Korea but the world. They are known by their fans as BTS. And BTS know their fans as ARMY.

The Seven men of BTS are Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, And Jeon Jungkook. Some of the men have stage names and others don’t. Kim Seokjin is simply known as Jin. Min Yoongi is simply known as Suga, there are more than a few theories as to how he got this stage name. Jung Hoseok is known as J-Hope his stage name came from ARMY, he is the eternal hope for both BTS and for ARMY as well. Kim Namjoon is simply known as RM a shortened version of his original stage name Rap Monster Jimin is just Jimin he has no stage name. Kim Taehyung is known simply as V. And finally, there is Jungkook who like Jimin and somewhat Jin has no stage name he is simply Jungkook. As you have noticed there is an order to the names, the names are put in order of age.

Let’s being with Kim Seokjin he is the eldest of the group of men and is the one Army Refers to as “Worldwide Handsome” this is a self-imposed nickname, but it is true. From his deep brown eyes to his amazing singing voice to his broad shoulders Jin is indeed Worldwide Handsome. Jin is one fourth of the vocal line of BTS and is one of the ones with the best voices. He was picked up in a street audition to be the Visual of the group. Which meant that he was the best looking out of the guys. He had a series on YouTube or Vlive, not sure which was simply called, Eat Jin. You watched him eat and talk about food He is the one that loves to cook out of the group and the guys will tell you that he is the best cook between them. He even owns his own restaurant in Seoul. He was brought up with his mother and father along with a younger brother. One of the best things about Jin is his work ethic when it comes to his dancing. When BTS started out he was one of the ones that needed the most help. Now six short years later he has improved so much and is just as good as some of the others. Jin had deep brown eyes, a tall frame with broad shoulders, just black hair that was short. He has very plump and kissable lips. He had long graceful fingers that helped him when he was playing the piano and guitar.

Grace is the best chief in the city and has two restaurants to manage because of that. She is the sole provider for her family of three. Her parents are very poor in health, her mother has fibromyalgia which is a muscle and nerve condition and with her age it is hard for her to do much. Grace’s father worked all his life and is now taking it easy in his golden years as his health beings to decline. Grace is an only child but is very well loved by her parents who insist she do something she loved instead of doing something as a “job”. They paid for her to go to cooking school and now she is repaying them by making sure she does everything for them. Grace was beautiful she was about 5’5, jet black hair, which made her navy-blue eyes pop and made her look like some eerie magical woman. She was thinner with curves in all the right places. Her light tanned skin just made her features standout more. All in all, she was very beautiful inside and out. She was warm and kind with the side of if you screw with me and my family or friends, I will murder you in your sleep. She took no shit from anyone; she also knew how to pick her battles.

Min Yoongi or Suga as he is known from his fans is the next oldest. He is one third of the Rap line of BTS. In fact, he is one of South Korea’s fastest rappers, I believe he is third in the country. He has the stage name of Suga because of his position when he played basketball, he was a shooting guard. Yoongi is the best producer out of the group and that is what he wanted to do for the company that he is under contract for. He is often considered cold and distant, but once you get to know him you know that his demeanor is only like that because he doesn’t trust others so easily. Just like Jin he is very handsome he has deep brown eyes, short grey/blonde hair, very kissable lips. He is one of the shorter members, but he still had long legs and broad shoulders. He has very long graceful fingers and large, strong hands.  He has the talent to play the piano as well as sing. His singing voice might not be as strong as the vocal line but don’t let that fool you, he has a very deep voice when singing with a lisp. He was raised in a family of five, mother, father, older brother and a brown poodle named Holly. He is very warm hearted and very kind; it just takes a lot for him to trust people. He still loves to play basketball whenever he has the time.

Sura is one of the girls you can’t figure out. Every time you think you know her inside and out, she will turn the tables on you and show you why you don’t know a damn thing about her. She is the oldest of three, her little brother Jake was what was coined by one of her best friends coined as a big/little brother. Which meant that he was younger but taller. Sura was in herself about 5’3, with long dark brown hair with burgundy streaks running through it, she had deep hazel eyes that could look anywhere from brown to blue as long as you considered the color of her shirt or the weather. Sura’s little sister Mary was the reason Sura had become a nurse. When their mother passed having Mary and left them all alone Sura raised Jake and Mary as best she could. Right now, she was learning how to handle a job and still balance a life that she wanted to live. Jake was now in college and was helping her as much as he could. Sura wanted to do one thing other than helping people she wanted to be a writer and after work she walked to the park to spend a few hours in private to work on that.

Jung Hoseok, J-Hope or Hobi as he was known as his fans and friends is the third oldest. He was the sunshine and life of the party when it comes to BTS. He is loving and kind and warm hearted and just a beautiful soul to be around or see on stage. He is the best dancer in BTS hands down, it is simply amazing to see him dance the way he does. He is now BTS’s choreographer, he is also one third of the rap line of BTS. He is one of the ones that you must watch out for he has this very bright and beautiful personality, but he is one of the most amazing rappers of the group. His rapping style is just as bright as he is, you can tell by his tone of voice. He has deep brown eyes, short black hair, plump kissable lips. He is about medium height and has the dancer’s body that is long and lean. His family is a family of four. His mother and father, older sister and him. He is what we like to call a big/little brother because he is younger but taller than his sister. He has a beautiful singing voice as rapping his heart out. Hoseok is the one that lives and breathes dancing and you can tell when you watch him.

Hikari is an up and coming dancer. She is the best in all her classes and can go toe to toe with her teachers. She has long and beautiful red hair, she is tall and fit and has the long legs of a dancer. She has these eerie and amazing arctic blue eyes. You can tell her Native American heritage from looking at her. She has the deep tan that most Native Americans have the blue eyes and red hair come from her Scottish part of herself, that she got from her father. Hikari’s name made it very interesting to be who she was and have her two heritages, her name means light in Japanese. Her father told her that her mom had loved being an “army brat” growing up and that was why she had her name. Hikari had moved and because of her father’s business she was able to focus on just her dream. She was one of the most beautiful girls in her class and even though the guys were all after her she didn’t really have time for them. She was a dancer first and a woman second. But she was strong and was kind and sweet and everyone said she lit up a room when she walked in. She was this tough take charge and take no shit sweetheart that everyone loved.

Kim Namjoon or RM now, he was first known as Rap Monster but decided to change it because he didn’t want to come off as that aggressive. He is the leader of BTS and is fluent in English. Namjoon is the tallest of the group with very long legs and long arms. He is a little clumsy naturally but it’s ok because it makes him relatable, his nickname is god of destruction given to him by the other guys in BTS. He tends to break things sometimes. He is one of the smartest people that you will ever meet. His IQ is 148 but please do not hold that against him because he doesn’t use that to look down on people at all, nor does he act like he has that high of an IQ sometimes. He has brown eyes, short light brown hair, kissable lips and a set of dimples to die for. He is sweet and very relatable. He has a unique voice; he is the last one of the rap line of BTS. His mother and Father and his little sister. Namjoon is the one in 2018 spoke to the United Nations as part of BTS’s and UNICEFs Love Yourself campaign. He loves to read and has done so for a lot of years. He comes from a family of four as well.

Isis is just as her name suggests an Egyptian Goddess, or that is what her mother and older brother has told her all her life. Her mother and her bother are the ones that have raised her to be her own person. She has long curly blonde hair that is off set with her very caramel colored skin tone. She has deep brown eyes that almost look black. She is tall and thick; she has curves and is a very beautiful person inside and out. She is the top of her class in college with a very impressive IQ herself. She is the one that other go to when they have a problem. She is almost always seen with a book in her hands and wireless earbuds in her ears. She was the first in her class in high school and was the one that spoke at her graduation. Her speech had everyone in tears and when she finished, she got a standing ovation. She is now in college to be a psychologist and is currently on the fast track to have her own practice when she graduates. She has a very protective and but is a sweetheart when you break her outer wall down.

Park Jimin is the angel of BTS he is what is the start of the Mankae line or the youngest line. He is the second-best dancer of BTS. He is also one fourth of the vocal line like Jin. Jimin has a very soft and sweet voice that is different than the other four vocalists in BTS. He has short black hair; he has long legs which is a nice contrast considering he is the shortest of the group. Just like Hoseok he has the dancer’s body that is amazing to watch move. He has brown eyes but unlike the others his are most likely to be covered up by color contacts. Which means he could have any eye color on the planet which somehow matches his personality. He is very sweet, very kind, he loves animals and his friends he is a cuddle bug, you just can’t say that enough. He has very plump lips and besides his voice those are the feature you see first. He has a very cute giggle and is just an amazingly sweet guy. He is from a family of four. His mother, Father and younger brother. So, he knows how to be a big brother. Jimin is very hard on himself when he doesn’t need to be, can you say perfectionist? Just like Hoseok too he lives and breathes dancing and you can tell.  

Aria was just as beautiful as her name. She is an only child and is the apple of her grand-parents’ eyes. Her parents where killed in a tragic accident when she was a baby and it was a miracle; she survived the accident herself. She had been told all her life that she could do anything that all she had to do was believe in herself. But she found that hard to do. When you are 5’0 and all you want to do is dance but you have no rhythm at all it seems like just one battle after another to her. Her grand-parents’ had done everything that they could to get her not to give up on her dream. They knew she could do it all she needed was one person, one teacher to tell her that she was going to do fine. She was short but she had long legs, she had curves and looked like a doll sometimes. Her jet-black hair, porcelain skin and hazel eyes made her look like something men could only dream of. She was as sweet as they came but with that sweetness came a bluntness that some loved and some hated. She had decided that she was only trying one more time and then she was really working on college. This was to be the last chance at her dream.

Kim Taehyung or V as he is known to his fans. He is the middle Mankae, between Jimin and Jungkook. He has deep brown eyes that almost look black, short dark brown hair that’s very curly or wavy and very kissable lips. He has a very deep voice when talking or singing, he can hit the high notes though don’t let that deep voice fool you. He is one the tallest in BTS. He is very sweet and very unique. He has a very different way of looking at the world that is very childlike but not childish. He is still a very pure soul even to have traveled the world like he has. And that is one of the best qualities about him. He is one of the vocal line of BTS. He loves taking pictures, looking at art. He is very fashionable his nickname is Gucci boy, because that is what he likes to wear, and it looks very good one him. He is from a family of five. He has a Mother, Father, a younger brother and a younger sister. He loves animals especially his little puppy tannie who is like the mascot for BTS or at least all of their babies. He loves going to art museums when he was time off.  His favorite artist is Vincent van Gogh.

Yuki was amazing at her job, very few years she had managed to become the curator of the art museum she had loved to visit as a kid. She knew art like the back of her hand, and she loved being around it all day. It didn’t matter if she was getting new pieces for the museum or she was looking at things she had seen a million times she loved it all. She was trying to acquire something special for a few weeks to allow new blood to come to the museum and fall in love with art. It needed to be soon so that people could see the beautiful and importance of art and especially art in school for children. She had shoulder length bright white blonde, it looked amazing next to her pale skin. It when well with her bright hunter green eyes and her red lips. She was about 5’6 and she had curves. She had this very take charge personality, but she was still very sweet. And they only reason she had to have the personality was so that the men that worked under her would respect her. She had a very innocent a loveable side to her. She was quiet and saw things that others couldn’t see sometimes. Her Mom and dad and her sister loved that about her, and they loved that she loved her job.

Last but certainly not least is Jeon Jungkook known as the Golden Mankae, meaning the golden youngest. When BTS was formed and debuted Jungkook was only15-16 years old. The other guys raised him from them on, as he had to leave home and move to Seoul and being training as an “Idol”. All the guys raised him as though the was their younger bother and they love him as such. He is the last of the Vocal line of BTS, but he has rapped on a few of their songs and is very good at it. Which to be fair there isn’t really anything that Jungkook is bad at. He has an amazing voice and is a pleasure to hear sing. He is a very sweet guy; he is very confident, but he also has times when he isn’t so confident. He is trying to learn English so that Namjoon isn’t the only one that is fluent in it. He is one of the tallest in BTS he is the one that works out the most and has the best set of abs in the group. He had wavy, curly brown hair; he has deep brown eyes. He has very kissable lips and a very cute smile that fans call his bunny smile because he looks like a bunny when he smiles. He’s very down to earth and a very considerate person. He has said that he has a little bit of the other guys personalities in him since they raised him.  He loves to play video games and he is very good at them.

Diana was named after Diana prince or Wonder Woman because her mother wanted her to be strong and beautiful just like Wonder Woman. Her mother got her wish, Diana is a very strong and take no shit kind of woman. She is also very sweet and caring she loves with her whole heart or she hates with everything in her soul. There are very few instances where she sees middle ground, but she is very far to everyone. She lets her heart guide her and is very grounded. She is sweet and kinda and has a very warm personality until you piss her of then you really need to watch out because then things will get very, very bad for you very fast. She has long dirty blonde hair, she had green hazel eyes. She is tall and has very long legs, she is thick and curvy. She is very beautiful just like her name sake. She has a motherly side to her because she helped her mom raise her three younger siblings. When she discovered her video game ability, she was unsure as to what she was going to do with it. But her little brother started taking her and entering her into the competitions around the state. She has a very competitive side to her sometimes but its all in good fun. She is one of the best video gamers in the country.

So now that we know the people that this will be about when can see how things will turn out between each of the couples. Oh, and by the way the seven girls…They don’t know who BTS is at all! They don’t listen to BTS and have no idea who they will be meeting in the up coming chapters.

@alternateafterthought​ @scuzmunkie @kittysilver86  @team-elias@alexnine@loveroflive78 @calwitch @briqueenofthenorth@soulofaravenheartofawolf@queenofthearchitect @balorbj @moxley-unhinged@adriennegabriella @ladylucksposts @2sweetqueen@meremaidqueen@mohawkmama  @susanleann1 @lauri3strode@hardyfangirl3

#BTS #ot7 #bts RM #bts Jin #bts Suga #bts J-Hope #bts Jimin #bts V #bts Jungkook #Kim Namjoon #Kim Seokjin #Min Yoongi #Jung Hoseok #Park Jimin #Kim Taehyung #Jeon Jungkook #bts fluff #fluff #bts one shots #bts soulmate #bts series #OC Isis #OC Grace #OC Sura #OC Hikari #OC Aria #OC Yuki #OC Diana #Just One Day #Army

[sleepyarthur]

Arthur and Mary-Beth is the OTP.

THIS WILL BE LONG. But if you’re willing to be convinced, then I invite you to read it. I also recommend watching the cutscenes and dialogue (look for them around youtube if you can) I refer here for more clarity if you’re feeling a bit confused on some parts because I can’t write well enough to save a life sometimes. :( So, first and foremost, we know Arthur’s very secretive. He’s this man who’s sensitive by nature but hides it through his gruff, masculine exterior in an attempt to still remain intimidating and superior to the other gang members, especially as Dutch’s right-hand man. There’s evidently only 3 or 4 potential people he folds to when it comes to his “romantic” side as these people put it, namely, Mary-Beth, Tilly, Hosea, and potentially Karen (although there isn’t much hint towards it). Hosea’s understandable as he loved him like a father. The girls, on the other hand, he treats as close friends, especially with the friendly banter they have from time to time. Lenny is also a possibility but he only opens up to him like twice, once when he’s drunk (”No one would have me”) and the other when Tilly and Hosea was around pushing him to answer about the way he wanted to be buried.  His interactions with Mary-Beth is a little different from the other girls. She’s the only one who he is fine with talking about his deeply personal journal, even though he just wanted to laugh with her about  his writing in particular. Also, isn’t it strange that Mary-Beth shared a mutual interest in the same hobby? Anyhow, whenever Mary-Beth asks, you bet Arthur delivers with hardly any hesitation. When Mary-Beth asks about Mary at the beginning of Tilly’s rescue mission, Arthur actively talks about very intricate details of his complicated relationship. First, how he’s been thinking how “it all ended”, mentioning the back and forth stubbornness between the two (”She didn’t love me enough, I guess, or I wouldn’t change”)  and how much he admits he’s a fool for her (”Well, she put a lot of good years in an outlaw”). Another point of his openness to share with Mary-Beth could be seen through a domino game with her. When she asks him about the flower on his tent,  he mentions his mother almost immediately. I was thinking that he would’ve probably said something along the lines of “Just a flower I picked up,” or the same line he says afterward that it’s a “good luck charm”. Instead, he begins with “Oh, it’s something my ma always liked.” Strangely, throughout the game, you almost never really see Arthur open up about his parents before except through this one small interaction between them and the very riveting conversation he has with Sister Calderon. And finally, Mary-Beth is one of the few who he opens up to about his sickness. Some members he tells of his sickness but does not reveal it’s something he could die from, aside from Charles. Most of the members just find it out on their own, judging from Arthur’s behavior and how sick he looked. Even for someone like Sadie, he doesn’t falter and admit it, and she finds out anyway through his implications when he asked her to help John’s family. Mary-Beth has a conversation in the Chapter 6 camp where he openly admits his situation, and only to Mary-Beth alone, not for the other girls like the other conversations. Afterward, he states something that even he wouldn’t even tell Sister Calderon, or Charles during their heartfelt conversation onward to Fort Wallace. He tells her that he “started to see things differently,” and that “the whole world seems different somehow.” It’s strange how such a simple conversation can reveal so many thoughts of Arthur outside of his journal, with none other than Mary-Beth. Next up, some more minor points but still support the theory nonetheless:  Another unique interaction he has compared to the other members of the camp is his constant asking of her if she’s okay with the decision of joining the gang. He always asks her if she was happy sticking with them “reprobates” or if she’s okay about joining "this band of maniacs”. For a man who loved his gang like a family, he’s constantly trying to steer her away from their outlaw life, asking her about it possibly hoping that one day she’ll say no and make a life for herself. It also shows his protective nature towards Mary-Beth. Remember Karen joining the bank robbery in Valentine? He didn’t seem to mind that Karen’s going to involve herself in a high stakes bank robbery planned by the clumsy Bill himself where all of them could get killed. Yet, when Sean, the other goof of the camp, readies a plan of his own to rob a stagecoach with Mary-Beth and Arthur finds out she’s joining, he‘s up in arms about it and forces Sean to invite him, and never really admits he’s worried. It’s also important to note that during Bill’s coach robbery, he doesn’t mind inviting Tilly over to join them when Bill said he needed one of the girls to come along with them, so his demeanor towards Mary-Beth’s safety is unique in itself compared to the other girls in camp Arthur also puts Mary-Beth in high regard, even though she only knows how to steal. He brags to Sean about how she had stolen more than the both of them combined, and how he thought she was just a poor innocent girl being chased by three men until he finds out she stole so much jewelry from them. You’ll also notice Arthur scolding Sean angrily whenever he asks something from her, like “she ain’t blind,” when Sean asks her if she sees the part of the road where she’ll be putting her act on, or when he tries to confirm if she knows what she’ll be doing,  A final important point, if you still aren’t convinced so far: We know that there are two times Arthur gets into these sessions where he’s thinking about the past with voices echoing in the background. It happens twice, one right after his tuberculosis diagnosis, and the second is when he’s on his last ride back to camp. In both iterations, the last voices and words he remembers are FROM Mary-Beth. Specifically, the last quote he hears after the diagnosis is “Well, she was a fool then, Arthur”. This does NOT make any sense at first, if you think about it, but context is important. Mary-Beth says this right after Arthur talks about the end of his relationship with Mary. As I mentioned previously, when Mary-Beth asked what happened with their break up, Arthur told her that he thinks that she didn’t love him enough, or that he wouldn’t change. Mary-Beth sides with him, which leads to her calling Mary a fool for not loving him enough. Arthur afterwards defends her, talking about how he’s the real fool. Perhaps, he thought he truly was, because now it was already too late for him to enjoy a life with Mary.

Meanwhile, the last quote he hears during his last ride back to camp was “Maybe it’s a sign, Arthur... try... try to do the good thing.” This dialogue comes from a conversation with Mary-Beth at camp, when he admits to her that he’s dying. Strangely, this conversation is easily missed, yet regardless if you get into the conversation or not, this will still appear. If I recall correctly, this conversation only pops up right after the TB diagnosis (which is why it’s easy to miss) and not anymore after, which implies that her words must have impacted him so much that he followed through with it for the rest of the chapter. Maybe Rockstar planned for this conversation between them to be a part of the mission somehow, but never got around to it, considering how important it was. It could allude to the idea that maybe she really is the love interest of Arthur that they scrapped before the game’s release, but that’s another theory for another time. Sure, maybe it’s just a coincidence, but there are so many other people he could remember quotes and heartfelt words from, like Sister Calderon and Hosea. Yet to have Mary-Beth’s words be the last things he thinks about in both of the times he was at his most vulnerable shows not only his value of her, but also the fact that he may have truly shaped his eventual deeds through her advice.  So that’s all for this long ass essay. Maybe I’ve convinced you, maybe not, but all in all I think their relationship is so uniquely presented that it should never be overlooked. I welcome any criticism, retorts or anything that could debunk it, and I’ll be ready to answer.  I think deep down they really loved each other, but neither could admit their feelings with one another. Also they’re both adults so don’t be so bothered with the age gap... I know I’m not, for Arthur I mean. :x Also, I totally don’t put myself in Mary-Beth’s shoes from time to time. *coughs* Oh no i have tb.

#mary-beth gaskill #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 spoilers #sorry not sorry for this long post #my two babies

[a-hunter-in-storybrooke]

My Thoughts on Arya and Gendry

This post contains Game of Thrones spoilers through Episode 8x02.  To continue reading, please click the link below.

It finally happened.  Arya and Gendry.  I've been hoping for this pretty much since they met. Not sex specifically... it IS possible to ship two young characters without wanting them to sleep together, guys.  Arya was 12 when they met on the show, younger in the books.  So no, that wasn't what I was thinking back then.  I just noted the chemistry the characters had together and the sparks of attraction between them.  Now that's it's happened, though, the fandom seems very divided on the subject. I'd like to address that here and also share my own opinions on the subject.

There seem to be two main camps of thought happening here.  Some people simply don't like the pairing, and those people are certainly entitled to that opinion.  Among these are fans who say Arya would never want to settle down... with anyone.  This is based, largely, on the conversation she had with Ned in Season 1, in which he told her that she would marry a lord and be lady of his castle and raise his children.  Arya stated very clearly that that wasn't who she was.  I can see how people take that to mean she never wants to settle down. It also wouldn't be out of character for the person she's become, especially since her time in Braavos.  However, there is another way to interpret that conversation.  Arya will never be a lady the way Sansa is.  She's too wild to settle into that sort of lifestyle.  She doesn't want to live as nobility expects a woman to live.  But Gendry wouldn't ask that of her.  He may be the bastard son of a king, but he doesn't want the throne.  I think he'd be more than happy to settle down as a blacksmith in some quiet town, or else follow his love on whatever wild adventure she wants to undertake. What's west of Westeros?  No one knows... but I could easily see Arya and Gendry discovering that together.  As a little girl, Arya could only see two paths:  the one she wanted and the one society wanted for her.  At that age she didn't imagine a world in which she could be married without being a "lady".  Now that she's seen the world and how others live, I think her eyes are open to all the possibilities available to her.

Then there's the main thing I've seen in reaction to this development.  A lot of fans were bothered by Arya having a sex scene. Some people feel this way because, again, they think it's out of character for her. But the majority seem bothered because... it's Arya.  And you know, I get that.  We've watched her character grow up on screen.  We feel fiercely protective of her, the same way most of us do of Sansa.  There is one major difference here, though: Arya chose this.  She wanted it.  Sansa, as we know, has never been given that kind of choice.  Even though we've watched her since she was 11, Arya is 17/18 now (and Maisie is 22).  Sansa was 12 when she was betrothed to Joffrey, 14 when she was married to Tyrion, and 15/16 when she was given to Ramsay.  Aside from her initial naive attraction to Joffrey, NONE of that was Sansa's choice.  Now here's Arya, older than her sister was in any of those situations, and she makes the conscious choice to sleep with Gendry.  Not only that, but she initiated the whole scene. She knows there's a high chance they're all going to die, so she takes what may be her last opportunity at this experience. More than that, she could have chosen anyone... but she wanted it to be Gendry. Many think she's never wanted love, but I believe that changed when she met Gendry.  And I believe part of her willingness to give herself over to the life of the Faceless Men was because she thought she'd lost him.  She'd lost her father, her mother, her eldest brother,  and... she believed...  her younger brothers as well.  Jon was sworn to the Night's Watch. Sansa was a prisoner in King's Landing.  And she'd lost the only boy she'd ever loved.  It's easy to see how the prospect of becoming "No One" was tempting.  But she knew that she couldn't stay in Braavos.  She had to go home and return to what was left of her pack.  And that now includes Gendry.  With all the horrible things that happen in this series, especially to women, Arya's story...  all parts of it... should be celebrated.  In a world where marrying off a 12-year-old girl is considered commonplace, this kind of consensual situation should be viewed as a happy development, not one for scorn.  

Now that I've said my piece on all of that, I have to address the fears.  Many now believe that either Arya's death, Gendry's, or both, is now guaranteed.  I REALLY don't want to believe that.  I know Arya believes it.  I completely believe that is why she was lying awake in bed beside him.  She believes she's going to die.  I want to think that she'd allow their relationship to progress beyond a single encounter. However, she truly believes that's all they'll ever have. I want to believe that Gendry's role in the story isn't over.  Was the last living Baratheon truly brought back simply for his skills as a blacksmith?  I have a hard time believing that.  I know some people believe Arya will be pregnant and therefore the Baratheon line will live on... but even that doesn't feel like closure for this storyline.  As for the prospect of Arya dying... just... no.  I need her to survive to the end.  From a purely storytelling point of view, it would be cruel to kill her off without giving her one last chance to cross Cersei (and maybe the Mountain) off her list.

All of this brings me to a theory I've seen come up, and I think it may have some weight to it.  One payoff we've have yet to see is Melisandre's promise that she and Arya would meet again.  Some fans believe that Arya will die, but will be resurrected by Melisandre.  I think this is not unlikely.  I think it is also possible that Gendry will be the one to die, but she'll save him for Arya.  I see this as the most poetic of possibilities: "I took him from you.  Now let me give him back". I also think it's likely this could be done at the sacrifice of Melisandre's own life.  That would be fitting.  She sacrificed so many in the service of the Lord of Light. Now she believes she's finally found her Prince in Jon. Arya is the person Jon loves most in the world, so to bring her back would be a worthy service in her eyes.  However, I think Gendry would be even more meaningful.  This is someone she once tried to sacrifice to further the goals of her false Prince, Stannis.  Gendry now serves Jon and he loves Arya... so his resurrection by her own sacrifice would be a beautiful atonement.  While I pray that neither Arya nor Gendry will die in the coming battle, if they can be resurrected, then that's enough for me.  I just need them both alive.

In conclusion, I believe that the progression of Arya and Gendry's relationship from friends to lovers is a beautiful thing.  Now I just need them both to survive (one way or another) and for Arya to allow him into her heart beyond that single night.

Now, if you'll excuse me... I need to go panic about the upcoming episode. 

#game of thrones #got #game of thrones spoilers #got spoilers #season 8 spoilers #arya x gendry #gendrya #post 8x02 #thoughts and opinions #and theories

[radiantcutice-blog]

Prison Break

Ten keys.

Not all of them are useful, not to Len, but the weight of them in his fingers is grounding, even more so than his gun strapped to his thigh. Barry had been aghast, of course, when Don and Dawn brought them to Len, but now Len wonders if they hadn’t known, somehow, that he’d need them. If it was really just a coincidence, or if it was something more. He hadn’t bothered asking, just thanked them softly, again and again, and promised he was getting their dad back.

Sam and Marc follow him up through the abandoned hospital wing to Iron Heights proper, surveying the cells around them as prisoners start to stir. Their time is limited; even with Barry playing along, Papercut and Folded Man can only keep him occupied for so long; so Len gets to work.

Blacksmith stays where she’s at- Len doesn’t have time to butt heads with Miss New Rogues, nor the patience to try and rein in her chaos. Murmur doesn’t get a second glance, either- he needs a breakout team, not a mass murderer.

The first person Len lets out is Girder, and it’s clear that it’s not out of any goodwill. He locks eyes with Woodward as he opens the door, breaking the airtight seal of his cell and watching the agony crawl across the metal man’s face. “Snart,” he creaks, lurching towards him, but Len keeps moving, letting Sam and Marc push the iron golem towards the Pipeline security that’s surely on its way. If he rusts away, good fucking riddance. Len has no sympathy for a rapist.

Abra Kadabra and Plunder both get passed over, Kadabra briefly meeting his eyes to sneer at him. The 34th century man has thrown in with the Light, and Len wants nothing to do with them, certainly not in a position where he’d be indebted to the shady fucks. He’ll get his people without throwing in with the death cult that nearly handed the world to aliens, thanks.

Plunder- well, Morillo’s just useless.

Len slows at Doctor Alchemy’s cell, rapping lightly at the door to draw his attention from his book. “Desmond.”

“Snart,” Alchemy replies, finger holding his page as he shuts his book briefly. “To what do I owe the honor.”

“Was wonderin’ if you were lookin’ to take a walk,” he suggests, and, while Alchemy sighs, he doesn’t go back to his book just yet.

“And what would incentivize this… walk, Leonard?”

He smiles, briefly. “Flasher’s takin’ it kinda hard over in the city proper. Heard Magenta was gettin’ called in to reinforce him.”

“How is Miss Kane?”

“One way to find out.”

Albert considers Len for another long moment before fully setting aside his book. “I think I’d like that.”

Len nods, unlocking the cell and lobbing the Philosopher’s Stone at Desmond underhand, the Heights-issued version of his costume melting from where it meets his glove outwards. Once he’s really dressed, Alchemy nods regally, striding past Len into the hall.

“Head for the abandoned hospital wing. There’s a tunnel out. And don’t let Girder follow ya, if you don’t mind?” Len suggests, chuckling as Alchemy makes a familiar face at the mention of Woodward.

“Certainly not,” he mutters, reaching out to touch Len’s parka lightly. “Tell your family, when you see them next, that I said hello.”

A nod satisfies him, and he turns to leave, slipping past Sam and Marc as they rejoin Len, past where Girder is engaging the Pipeline guards, and towards the exit.

Peek-a-boo is next, curled up in her cell with her knees to her chest, and Len knocks again, gentle, to get her attention.

“Lashawn?”

“Whatever you’re sellin’, I’m not buying,” she snaps, pulling in tighter on herself, and he sighs.

“Your pop’s at the top’a the transplant list. I figured you’d wanna get out to see him.”

That catches her attention and she stands, slowly, arms still wrapped around her torso. “What’s in it for you?”

“You see your family, I see mine.”

Len can see the doubt, can’t even blame her for it. She’s a good kid. “And after?”

“After, I got papers for you. Clean identity. You can get yourself back to school, see your dad every now and then- no strings attached. Even see what we can do about that metagene of yours.”

If she turns him down, Len’s willing to move on- it’ll suck, but he is. He figured he should at least give it a shot, though.

“One job,” Lashawn tells him, and he nods.

“One job, kid,” he agrees, unlocking her cell and giving her a wide berth to exit, Sam passing over her confiscated gear as their group keeps moving.

He doesn’t have a key for the final cell he stops in front of, and both Sam and Marc make disgusted little sounds, but they know they’re desperate. No one says a word, all regarding each other warily from across the glass.

“Your boyfriend know you’re here, Snart?” August asks casually, too casually, and Len doesn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“The Feds shoved my people in a swamp to rot. You wanna help me help them, or you gonna sit here and twiddle your thumbs like you couldn’t leave whenever the hell you want,” Len challenges, and the spark of lightning in Heart’s eye tells him all he needs to know.

“You letting me out or not?”

Scudder fires off a shot into the glass of August’s cell and steps through, reaching to grab the speedster by the wrist and yank him through into the hall with the rest. August raises his brows and tilts his head a little, obviously offering his collared throat for Len to do something about.

He makes an indignant noise when Len turns away. “Hey, cabrón, forgetting something?” Heart calls, and Len would ignore him if not for the fact that he doesn’t hear his feet moving.

“I’ll take it off when we get where we’re goin’.”

That doesn’t make August any happier. “Really? Someone touches Baez and she blows, and you’re more worried about keeping me under wraps?”

Lashawn doesn’t look impressed by being dragged into this, and Len can hardly blame her, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking directly at Heart. “Baez hasn’t, to my knowledge, expressed interest in killing me before.”

The staredown lasts a good dozen seconds longer than Len would like, but, finally, August shrugs. “Fair enough.”

Marc snorts and Sam doesn’t bother hiding his grin as Len turns away again.

The screech of metal follows them out through the abandoned hospital wing and the tunnels- the screech, and the bellow of Tony Woodward in pain.

Maybe it says something about Len that he doesn’t even flinch.

They leave the Heights behind them, the sounds of fighting ahead in Central proper as Booker and Edwin keep Barry “occupied,” but the group turns towards Keystone instead, to one of Sam’s personal hideouts. He’s obviously still put out by bringing August, glancing over his shoulder with a slight sneer as he unlocks the door of the warehouse and hustles everyone inside and down to the basement.

One whole wall is covered in a mirror, and Len stares up at it as he waits for Sam to lock up and come downstairs, ignoring the heavy silence of their guests until Sam steps into his peripherals.

“Alright.” He turns, setting out the map of Belle Reve, created from his own stay and the twins’ memories, marked with guard towers, security cameras, and any other notes Len had deemed necessary, and begins laying out the plan.

Len counts down on his fingers and then signals for them to go, emerging simultaneously from four panes of glass on Belle Reve’s outer guard towers to take out all of them at once. It goes down without a hitch- Len can hear it over his earpiece, the quick confirmations from the others- and he looks out the window to see the dark clouds over the prison growing even darker, heavy with rain that starts to fall over the outer courtyard. There’s a ripple of unhappiness in the guards in the yard, noises of complaint coming over the tower radio, and they let it go on for a while before Marc increases the storm further, the distant first flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder signalling them to come down from the tower and meet.

When they’re in one place, he pulls one of Lisa’s devices from his pocket- his sister’s damn brilliant, not that Len didn’t already know- and deactivates August’s collar, scooping it up and shoving into an inner pocket of his parka. Heart’s whole body crackles with the familiar static of the Speed Force that makes Len’s hair stand up and his lichtenburg scar itch.

“Wizard. Give him a jump,” Len instructs, and both men glance at him, Marc in concern and Heart in confusion.

“You sure about that?” He nods, and Marc blows out a sigh, taking a moment to focus, eyes shut, more lightning streaking through the clouds over the prison to hide what he’ll do next.

Heart doesn’t look reassured. “What do you mean, a jump?” he asks, and Len can hear the tremor in his voice, used to hearing it when Barry’s stressed, the way he vibrates, trying not to just bolt.

“My wand manipulates electron fields,” Marc murmurs, opening his eyes- they, too, spark and glow with lightning, bright blue, and Len sees Lashawn step back in the corner of his eye. “I can turn potential energy into kinetic- what you speedsters run on. It’ll put you on top of your game, chabón.”

“M’already on top of my game,” Heart argues, but his interest is pretty obvious, and he takes a breath, glancing up and waiting for the next strike of lightning to let the Speed Force come over him, materializing his bright costume in a flash of white-gold lightning. His voice vibrates more now, Godspeed’s voice instead of August’s, and his gold lenses land on Marc. “Hit me.”

For the first time since Len suggested this, Marc actually grins- he can’t help being eager, and Len knows he’s been dying to test this theory for ages- and raises his wand, shocking August with the next lightning strike, blue mixing with Godspeed’s white until the speedster’s edges blur, glowing unearthly and wreathed with static. Lowering the wand again, Marc’s eyes return to normal, still grinning as he steps back.

“You alright, Godspeed?” His head moves- a nod, maybe?- and one speedster becomes two becomes three, and oh, Len hopes this wasn’t a mistake.

“Never better, Snart,” one of them answers, and Len nods curtly.

“You know your role.” All three move their heads- yeah, it’s gotta be a nod- and wait for the next crack of lightning to take off into the yard, disarming guards and knocking them out with a speed and precision that Len would take a moment to admire if he weren’t focused on the job. “Mirror Master, cameras. Wizard, storm. Boo, on me.”

They break, fluid, determined, and Len feels a pang of longing for the old days, when a small team like this would’ve been him, Mick, Lise, Sam, and Digger, just the five of them against anyone who got in their way. It’s so sudden that Len’s pace falters and Lashawn spares him a glance, but he waves her on, pulling the cold gun from its holster and powering it up as they pass the crumpled forms of guards, their dismantled weapons scattered in the mud.

He freezes his heart just like he does the prison wall, watching frost creep over the thick concrete as the beam of his gun reflects in his and Lashawn’s goggles until he releases the trigger, stepping back even further to let Baez do her part.

Standing close but not too close to the frozen wall, Baez shuts her eyes and teleports, the explosion sending brittle chunks of concrete flying through the air. A crack of thunder follows, and Len squints to see through the blinding explosion and the glow of lightning- Godspeed is there, one of him, at least, knocking aside shrapnel in a circle around Len and Lashawn and glancing over his shoulder when he’s done.

“Don’t get yourself killed. Barry would kick my ass,” he tells Len, and it almost seems like a joke, before he bolts again, leaving the duo to get back to their job.

Once the wall is down and Sam confirms he has control of the cameras, two of Godspeed dart ahead into Belle Reve, the clank of turrets and power suit pieces followed by the thump of unconscious bodies as Marc, Lashawn, a third August, and Len make their way in. Sam emerges from the dull shine of a polished metal “mirror,” making a face but not complaining as they head through the halls.

“How’s it lookin’?”

“Deadshot, Plastique, Frost, Bronze Tiger, and the Shark,” Sam relays grimly.

“We couldn’t have gotten any less?” Len grouses, the dull throb of a headache starting at the back of his skull. This is going to suck, but they’re going to do it. They have to. “If Waller lets Task Force X out, Heart, you’re on Bronze Tiger. He’s one of Waller’s enforcers on the team- least likely to listen to reason. Master martial artist, so watch yourself.” Heart nods and is off to help his doubles.

“Nanue shouldn’t be hard. Great whites fall into hibernation under a certain temperature, it’s just a matter of getting him there,” he murmurs, hand on the cold gun. “Peek-a-boo, I want you on Killer Frost. She needs to touch people to absorb heat-”

“-And touching me’s a bad idea,” Lashawn finishes. Not a hard conclusion to come to, but it still makes Len smirk when she does. “Got it.”

“Wizard-”

“Plastique,” Marc volunteers. “Same trick as Heart on her explosions.”

“I got Lawton,” Sam rounds out. “Wiz and I are gonna head for Glider and Top.”

Len nods and they split off to head for the thick glass that separates the two halves of the prison’s indoor exercise area, to the other side where the other Rogues await them. Lashawn keeps pace with Len, no longer faltering as he gets closer to his husband, freezing over unconscious guards to keep them down if they wake up before the job is done. It’s only when a bullet hits the ground in front of his feet that he stops his determined march, hearing Lashawn gasp as she nearly runs into him and hastily stumbles back, trying not to blow while Len searches for the source.

Deadshot waves down at him from a guard post and Len sneers.

“Hey, Snart.”

“Whataya want, Lawton, I ain’t got the time,” he snaps back, voice cracking like ice against the concrete walls, and Lawton raises his hands in innocence, showing that his finger’s off his trigger.

“The Wall was pissed you got to Boomer’s corpse before her. Could’ve been real useful to her,” Lawton drawls, and Len could shoot him, here and now, he really could.

“She wasn’t about to desecrate one of my people’s bodies.”

Lowering his hands again, Deadshot leans against the low wall in front of him, gun dangling in a loose grip that Len knows says nothing about how dangerous he is right now. “I know, Snart. I know.” He searches for his words, and, for once in the conversation, he seems sincere. “I’m glad she didn’t get him, either.”

Len eyes him for a long moment before Lawton nods, flicking on his safety and shoving his gun in the waistband of his prison orange. “My people and me didn’t see a thing. Never encountered you. Go get your family.”

Nodding back, Len gestures for Lashawn to follow, deeper into the prison until they reach the cell block, people gathering curiously at their doors, murmurs getting louder when they realize who and what this is.

Cries of “Cold” or “Snart” are ignored- voices he hardly recognizes or doesn’t care about, no, he’s not here for them- no, it’s the first tentative, tired call of “Lenny?” that grabs his attention.

“Motek,” Len breathes, and he’s at Mick’s cell in an instant, the bruises on his skin and under his eyes making Len’s heart ache, but the little smile he gives Len- god, he’s missed it. “Step back, Mickey.”

He does, his cellie taken back with him by a strong, scarred arm, and Len freezes the cell door, kicking one of the icy bars to watch the whole damn thing crumble.

Mick rushes him for a kiss, and Len grips him even as Mick shivers, even as the prison jeers and yells around them.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks his husband when he pulls away, and Mick goes from lovey to his game face, confident strides leading Len to the other two Rogues scattered among the prisoners, each of them freed, collars deactivated, and joining the pack, their cellmates left to do as they please.

Len doesn’t stop them from going for the guards, embracing Hartley and muttering my boy into his long hair before bringing Roy in, too, slapping his back heartily as he lets go.

“Couldn’ta been any quicker about it?” Mick grumbles- Len knows, doesn’t snap back, just takes his husband’s hand and squeezes briefly before leading heading towards the rec area, getting a raised brow. “That ain’t the way out, boss.”

“Sam and Marc are getting Lisey and Ros, and we’re all meeting at the big glass,” he explains, the others’ eyes widening in comprehension and letting him push on, the crackle of static crawling up the back of his neck as they head further in.

Mick feels it, too, looks hopeful for a moment, but Godspeed skids into existence and his whole face darkens. “Him, Lenny?”

“I did what I had to, motek,” he answers, knowing that will be a whole other talk when they get home. “What’s going on, Godspeed.”

“Jump wore off,” he answers, voice still buzzing, but not as hard. “I can still maintain one other- he’s doing another round now. Be here soon. Guards are still out, but the cameras are starting to come back online.”

Len nods curtly, lets Heart flash ahead of them and follows the trail of lightning to the open rec space, face softening at the sight of his sister and her partner on the other side of the thick glass with Marc, Sam, and August’s double.

“Mr. Snart-Rory.” He turns to see Amanda Waller herself standing above them. “Did you really think this was wise?”

They stare silently at each other for a long moment before Len gestures to Sam, the fire of the mirror gun muffled by the glass wall, the Rogues on the far side vanishing into the mirror before the closer side ripples, Lisa’s hand reaching through. Hartley takes it first, disappearing through, and Waller can only watch Len’s people leave her impenetrable walls.

“I got a question for you, too, Warden Waller,” he answers evenly, watching Mick pass through before he steps up to the mirror. “Did you really think it was wise to cross the Rogues?”

He only narrowly stops himself from flipping her off before he steps through to the portal to go home.

#Execute The Plan; plot post #violence/ #long post/

[flakandforay]

Catcher in the Rye Theory

overall: The Catcher in the Rye is a classic literature book written by J.D. Salinger. The plot roughly talks about Holden Caulfield, a youth who goes through adulthood etc.

warnings: spoilers of the book, mentions of death; please read discretely

theory: the reason why i am talking about this book is because of this quote ‘while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for once’ that appeared in the Run JP MV; it was in the form of graffiti on the walls in Taehyung’s room. 

The original quote ‘The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.’ by Wilhelm Stekel, a psychoanalyst which is found on pg 101.

“It was written by a pyscoanalyst named Wilhelm Stekel.”

“Here’s what he said: ‘The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.”

-Pg. 101

this was the conversation between Holden and his ex-teacher Mr Antolini. I have mentioned before in this Run Jp. theory, this quote roughly means as such.

The meaning behind Mr. Antolini saying this to Holden is very important. First, Mr. Antolini may think that Holden is contemplating suicide. If Holden is, in fact, contemplating suicide, Mr. Antolini may think that by giving this advice to Holden then Holden may reconsider taking his own life.

Outside of that, the quote itself refers ti the fact that once a person is dead they can no longer fight for anything, if Holden does have a cause to fight nobly for, it would be immature of him to die for that one cause. Instead, Mr. Antolini is hoping that Holden wants to live for his cause. When one lives for a cause they are more likely to make things which would support their cause.

In essence, Mr. Antolini is hoping that Holden see the difference between dying for something and living for something. It is only through living that a person can make a difference. Once a person is gone, the changes they have tried to make can revert ( given they are no longer around to fight. )

out of all the interpretations, this one speaks to me the most and is the one most appropriate for the HYYH series as i have explained in the Run Jp. theory ; hence some resemblances to Taehyung who gives up on his life yet Holden here seems as if he is contemplating to. 

but moving on, i managed to actually finish the whole book and personally, i have never hated a main character this much since i enjoy reading novels etc. but aside from that, i must say that this book actually contains a lot of hints relating to the whole HYYH series which i would begin now.

see, based on Wikipedia, the plot mentions this.

When asked if he cares about anything, Holden shares a selfless fantasy he has been thinking about (based on a mishearing of Robert Burns's Comin' Through the Rye): he pictures himself as the sole guardian of thousands of children playing in a huge rye field on the edge of a cliff. His job is to catch the children if, in their abandon, they come close to falling off the brink; to be, in effect, the "catcher in the rye". Because of this misinterpretation, Holden believes that to be the "catcher in the rye" means to save children from losing their innocence.

Reference: Wikipedia; Plot

again, we see the idea of ‘innocence’ coming out. as i have mentioned before about the symbolism of lilies and of butterflies as seen in their HYYH series.

lilies to represent the restored innocence and that butterflies were meant to be souls of the dead people; even white feathers being used to symbolise innocence.

again, the HYYH series being revolved around the concept of ‘innocence’.

asides from this, i realised later on in the book, probably around the last 40 pages or so, about the similarities between the book and the HYYH series. 

the main plot of the book talks about how Holden Caulfield, a normal teenage both, is getting kicked out of school yet again and wants to return home for a while to say his goodbyes to his sister, Phoebe before actually not returning home for good. 

the fact that Holden gets kicked out of school, but then again, not as if he wanted to stay anymore, already reminds me of Yoongi, based on the HYYH: the notes, O version of Yoongi and Jungkook.

Yoongi 7 April YEAR 22

I came to a stop after hearing the sound of a piano. The only sound that could be heard at the empty construction site was someone popping an oil drum. I knew the sound of the song that I had just played, but why did I think of that? My drunken footsteps stumbled. I closed my eyes and walked even more carelessly. As the heat of the fire grew stronger, the piano sound, the night air, the drunkenness fading away.

I opened my eyes at the sound of horn as a car grazed dangerously past me. In the confusion of the blazing headlight, the wind of the car’s passing and my drunkenness, I stumbled helplessly. I could hear the curses of the driver. As I came to a stop to curse back, I could no longer hear the sound of the piano. In spite of the sound of the blazing fire, the wind and the silence left after the car, the piano sound was gone. It stopped. Why did it stop? Who was playing the piano?

The sparks from the fire picked up its pace towards the oil barrel with one sound together. I could only look at the scene blankly. My face became flushed. Bang, it was at that moment when I heard a fist slamming on the piano keys. Instinctively, I looked behind. For a moment, my blood rushed that my breathing became uneven. The nightmares that I had when I was young. That was where I heard the sound.  The next moment, I was running. It wasn’t of my own will that I ran towards the music shop and instinctively looked behind. This was something like I had done numerous times. It was a feeling that I had forgotten something important. The music store had a broken window. In front of the piano, someone was sitting there. It had been a few years yet I still recognized the person. The person was crying, fists being clenched. I didn’t want to be concerned with anyone’s life. I didn’t want to comfort anyone who was lonely. I didn’t want to mean anything to someone. I couldn’t protect the person and I had no confidence. Until the end, I had no confidence. I didn’t want to give pain. I didn’t want to receive pain. I slowly moved. I wanted to go back but before I know it, I started approaching the person. Just then a wrong note was heard. Jungkook lifted his head and looked at me. “Hyung”. This had been our first meeting since quitting high school.

Jungkook 25 June YEAR 20

I stroked the piano keys and smeared the dust. I put some strength in the finger, but the sound was different than of Hyung’s playing. It has been 10 days since Hyung stopped coming to school. I heard the rumours of him getting expelled. Namjoon Hyung, Hoseok Hyung didn’t say anything, I was afraid to ask. Two weeks before, Hyung and I were the only ones in the hideaway classroom when the teacher opened the door. It was a day for the parents to visit. I didn’t want to be there, so I went into the hideaway one. Hyung didn’t bother to look at me and kept on playing the piano, I took 2 desks and lied down and closed my eyes. Hyung and the piano seemed different but yet they seemed like one. While listening to Hyung’s playing, I wanted to cry.

The tears threatened to fall then the sound of the door slammed open and the piano playing stopped. I was hit in the face, stumbled backwards and eventually fell. As I crouched to withstand the violence, the voice stopped. When I lifted my head, I saw Hyung standing in front of me and pushing the teacher’s shoulder. Over Hyung’s shoulder, I saw the teacher’s shocking expression.

I pushed the piano key. It was supposed to mimic Hyung’s playing. Was Hyung really expelled? Will he come back? Hyung said it was okay if he was beaten up a few times. What if I wasn’t there, would Hyung not stand up to the teacher? What if I wasn’t there, would I still hear Hyung playing the piano?

but of course, in the end, he ends up going home and staying there after much persuasion from his sister. Hence, this reminds me of Taehyung in which he would listen to his sister, and protect her at all costs, much like Holden. 

yet, asides from this story, it also talks about underlying themes of being an adult etc, Holden is now at the age where he transits from being a teen to an adult; and as stated from wikipedia:

A classic novel originally published for adults, it has since become popular with adolescent readers for its themes of teenage angst and alienation.

The novel's protagonist Holden Caulfield has become an icon for teenage rebellion.

The novel also deals with complex issues of innocence, identity, belonging, loss, and connection.

first off, here, it shows Holden who went to visit his ex-English teacher, Mr. Antolini for a house to stay for a while, considering he ran away from his home and school.

‘Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused and frightened, and even sickened by human behaviour. you’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them-if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement.’

-Pg 102 

Mr. Antolini begins to give advice to Holden as such. notice the words that Mr. Antolini gives him. 

i feel as though this applies to bangtan as whole, if given that the story revolves around Taehyung originally, and how Seokjin is trying to save him etc, Taehyung can find comfort in bangtan because they are all like him ‘troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now.’

see, based on the HYYH notes ( masterlist here for translations ), one could see how all of bangtan struggled morally and spiritually;

Seokjin - he already struggled in his teen years with his father, had to 

Yoongi - his mother most likely died and his father became miserable, often drinking etc, Yoongi gave up playing the piano that his mother taught him, might have gotten expelled from school

Hoseok - he was abandoned when he was younger and often got intimidated by adults including Jimin’s mother, had some kind of addiction

Namjoon - thinks lowly of himself, often caught up in his thoughts, did vandalism with Taehyung

Jimin - has some sort of disease/condition hence having to be in the hospital for long periods, had to transfer schools frequently therefore unable to forge real friendships for long till he met Hoseok

Taehyung - had an abusive family background, with his father being an alcoholic, had a knack for vandalism to sort of escape

Jungkook - didnt have the will to live, had an abusive stepfather and stepbrother, his mother didnt do anything, nobody helped him at all. 

hence Taehyung could relate and find comfort in them. bangtan learns things from one another and that’s what makes them stronger and happier when they are together. 

moving on, this situation in which Holden starts being slightly delusional as he imagines that he would never see the end of the streets. he then begins to talk to his dead younger brother, Allie. 

‘Every time I came to the end of a block and stepped off the goddam curb, I had this feeling that I’d never get to the other side of the street. I thought I’d just go down, down, down, and nobody’d ever see me again.Boy, did it scare me.’

‘Every time I’d get to the end of a block I’d make believe I was talking to my brother, Allie. I’d say to him, ‘Allie, don’t let me disappear. Allie, don’t let me disappear. Allie, don’t let me disappear. Please, Allie.’.

-Pg 106

here, it reminds me of the song ‘Butterfly’; specifically in their lyrics. 

난 아직도 믿기지가 않아 이 모든 게 다 꿈인 것 같아 사라지려 하지마

=

I still can’t believe it All of this seems like a dream Don’t try to disappear

Reference: Colour Coded ©

if i put this in the context of the book, you can imagine Holden telling his brother Allie to not disappear, even though in reality, Allie is already dead. it seems as though he hasn't fully grasped that Allie was long gone for a few years. Hence, he began to believe as though Allie was there with him and would help Holden to not disappear at all. 

not to mention that in the book, Holden was actually quite fond of Allie who also had a baseball glove that he wrote poems on. 

then you see at the bottom of pg 106, Holden talks about moving to the West and getting a job.

“I figured I could get a job at a filling station somewhere, putting gas..”

-Pg 106

then at pg 107, it completes it.

“and oil in people’s cars.”

-Pg 107

this already reminds me of Namjoon.

but later on, one would see how Holden talks about building a cabin near the forests.

“..and I’d build me a little cabin somewhere with the dough I made and live there for the rest of my life. I’d build it right near the woods, but not right in them, because I’d want it to be sunny as hell all the time.”

-Pg 107

this already reminds me of bangtan’s photoshoots for HYYH pt.1 and 2. 

more importantly, it reminds me of Namjoon in Run MV, and looking at this concept photo of Hoseok; it’s right near the forest.

also, i found it interesting that Holden Caulfield has been associated to some kind of mental hospital etc, since he stopped smoking as much and has been getting regular check-ups here. 

From Holden’s perspective, the reader knows that he has been ‘sick’, and earlier he mentions having to ‘rest up’. The fact that Holden has been having regular visits from a psychoanalyst suggests that Holden might be on the receiving end of some psychiatric care, regardless of whether he is in a regular hospital, sanitarium, or a mental hospital. Since the reader knows that he has been an extended care patient for quite some time, it seems likely that Holden is ‘resting up’ at a special facility. Not to mention that his parents are very wealthy, they could afford to out Holden in the best possible place to recover. 

Reference

this already reminds us of Jimin and Hoseok. 

but lastly, on the last page, i find the last 2 sentences intriguing. 

“Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.”

-Pg 115

i really love the last 2 sentences really. it just reminds me of the friendship of bangtan especially when the boys didnt meet each other after some time, they will miss each other; constantly searching for them after confiding in each other for a long time. 

this could be seen in the HYYH notes that was released before the love yourself albums.

Seokjin 13 June YEAR 22

we were all alone after returning from the sea.

we didn’t contact each other as if we planned it. we could only assume our existence by the graffiti left on the street, the brightly lit gas station and the sounds of the piano in the old building. that was when everything comes back to life. taehyung’s eyes were ablaze, the way they looked at me as if they heard something unbelievable, namjoon’s hand that tried to stop taehyung, i couldn’t take it and threw a punch at taehyung.

we couldn’t find taehyung after he dashed out, not even at the beach or guesthouse after i returned. broken glass cups, bloodstains that began to cling, smashed cookies that reminded me the incidents that happened a few hours before. a picture had fallen. we were laughing and smiling together in the picture with the sea as the background.

today, i just passed by the gas station. there will be a day when we will meet again - the day when we were all laughing just like in that picture. there will be a day when i would be able to gather courage and confront myself. whoever, now is not the time. today, just like that day, the wind was blowing strongly. and in the next moment, just like a warning, my handphone rang. the picture that was hanging on my room mirror shook. hoseok’s name then appeared on my screen.

‘hyung, jungkook got into a car accident that night’

so here, does it mean that inevitably, the boys miss each other then? 

overall, i do believe that this book did drop some hints on the whole timeline of HYYH; not to mention with the main character already having similarities with the boys, especially Yoongi and Namjoon and a bit of Taehyung. i believe Holden Caulfield is the perfect representation of all bangtan boys at one stage or another. 

truly, i love a group that makes me read. an interesting choice of book to convey their message. 

[Photo Source] Bighit Entertainment  Credits: maxine ☕️ DO NOT REPOST ©

#personal #bangtan #bts #catcher in the rye #faftheory #fathoughts #bts theory #bangtan theory #btstheory #seokjin #jin #yoongi #suga #hoseok #hobi #jhope #namjoon #rm #rapmonster #jimin #chimchim #mochi #taehyung #v #jungkook #kookie #nochu

[storyswept]

Jon Snow and Dragons (Part I: Of the Existence of Dragons and Their Dangers)

Introductory Note

This analysis is based on book quotes mentioning dragons, taken mostly from Jon's chapters. Other POV chapters were only quoted if they were conversing with Jon and dragons came up, or if relevant to the current discussion. I bolded the parts I found interesting.

Warning: spoilers for all published books, mention of a very popular theory on Jon's parentage. Plus, I have watched the show, so I'm sure it must be coloring my opinions.

Part I: Of the Existence of Dragons and Their Dangers

Of the Existence of Dragons

[Jon] had the Stark face if not the name: long, solemn, guarded, a face that gave nothing away. Whoever his mother had been, she had left little of herself in her son. "What are you reading about?" he asked.

"Dragons," Tyrion told him.

"What good is that? There are no more dragons," the boy said with the easy certainty of youth.

"So they say," Tyrion replied. "Sad, isn't it? When I was your age, I used to dream of having a dragon of my own." (AGOT, Tyrion II)

At the start of the series, Jon Snow tells us: "there are no more dragons", just moments after Tyrion was reflecting on his parentage. How ironic. Since Jon has no reason to question his beliefs, the next volumes find him issuing similar opinions on the subject:

"I have never seen a dragon."

"No one has. The last dragons died a hundred years ago or more. But this was before that." (Ygritte & Jon, ASOS, Jon V)

We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three. (ASOS, Jon VIII)

And finally:

"Pyp should learn to hold his tongue. I have heard the same from others. King's blood, to wake a dragon. Where Melisandre thinks to find a sleeping dragon, no one is quite sure. It's nonsense. Mance's blood is no more royal than mine own. He has never worn a crown nor sat a throne. He's a brigand, nothing more. There's no power in brigand's blood." (Jon, AFFC, Samwell I)

"He is not dead. Stannis is the Lord's chosen, destined to lead the fight against the dark. I have seen it in the flames, read of it in ancient prophecy. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt."

Jon had heard all this before. "Stannis Baratheon was the Lord of Dragonstone, but he was not born there. He was born at Storm's End, like his brothers." (ADWD, Jon X)

I'm sure Jon isn't the only person to find this notion nonsensical. Far from it in fact. But we readers know all about the return of the dragons in the East, which did involve blood magic. Also, if R+L=J is true, then Jon has indeed royal blood… another way to point out that Jon Snow knows nothing (compared to us) and that dragons can indeed be woken.

In "A Dance with Dragons",  Jon hears from Tycho Nestoris of "troubling reports":

The narrow sea is perilous this time of year, and of late there have been troubling reports of strange ships seen amongst the Stepstones."

"Salladhor Saan?"

"The Lysene pirate? Some say he has returned to his old haunts, this is so. And Lord Redwyne's war fleet creeps through the Broken Arm as well. On its way home, no doubt. But these men and their ships are well-known to us. No, these other sails … from farther east, perhaps … one hears queer talk of dragons."

"Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit."

"My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons."

No, I suppose not. "My apologies, Lord Tycho." (ADWD, Jon IX)

He doesn't take the assertion very seriously, as you can tell. And who can blame him? (well, aside from people who don’t think dragon jokes are funny). It's rumors… for now.

However, considering Aegon and the Golden Company's arrival in Westeros and Sam finding out the truth in Braavos, I think we can safely say Jon's beliefs on dragons will find themselves challenged in the future, if he survives his stabbing that is.

It's not unlikely Jon will want the dragons on their side in the fight against the Others. Why?

Remember his throwaway comments in the quotes above :

"He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three" (ASOS, Jon VIII)

"Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit." (ADWD, Jon IX)

Add to this Maester Aemon's belief, that Daenerys was their hope (because of dragons):

"No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." Just talking of her seemed to make him stronger. "I must go to her. I must. Would that I was even ten years younger."

 (...)

"No," the old man said. "It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy . . . my brother's dream . . . Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis . . . Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg's little girl, she was how they came by it . . . their father's mother . . . she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope . . . perhaps I wanted to . . . we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that . . . light without heat . . . an empty glamor . . . the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. For all these years I've lingered, waiting, watching, and now that the day has dawned I am too old. I am dying, Sam." Tears ran from his blind white eyes at that admission. (AFFC, Samwell IV)

Unless Sam never gets around to telling him, I don't think Jon would dismiss one of his mentors' opinion so easily.

But is relying on dragons really the safest way to defeat the Others? As Aemon just told us, "we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe".

Of Dragons and Their Dangers

In fact, Jon is exposed to plenty of evidence that speaks of the dragons being dangerous.

Exhibit A: the rest of Jon and Tyrion's conversation about dragons.

"(…) When I was your age, I used to dream of having a dragon of my own."

"You did?" the boy said suspiciously. Perhaps he thought Tyrion was making fun of him.

"Oh, yes. Even a stunted, twisted, ugly little boy can look down over the world when he's seated on a dragon's back." Tyrion pushed the bearskin aside and climbed to his feet. "I used to start fires in the bowels of Casterly Rock and stare at the flames for hours, pretending they were dragonfire. Sometimes I'd imagine my father burning. At other times, my sister."

Jon Snow was staring at him, a look equal parts horror and fascination. Tyrion guffawed. "Don't look at me that way, bastard. I know your secret. You've dreamt the same kind of dreams."

"No," Jon Snow said, horrified. "I wouldn't …" (AGOT, Tyrion II)

Jon is understandably horrified at what Tyrion is insinuating.

What we can conclude: Dragons can be used to burn people (not a mind-blowing conclusion, I realise). Even your family if that your thing…

Exhibit B:

"Ashes and cinders."

"Kings and dragons."

Dragons again. For a moment Jon could almost see them too, coiling in the night, their dark wings outlined against a sea of flame.

"If she knew, she would have taken the boy away from us. Dalla's boy, not your monster. A word in the king's ear would have been the end of it." And of me. Stannis would have taken it for treason. "Why let it happen if she knew?"

"Because it suited her. Fire is a fickle thing. No one knows which way a flame will go." Val put a foot into a stirrup, swung her leg over her horse's back, and looked down from the saddle. "Do you remember what my sister told you?" (ADWD, Jon VIII)

What Dalla told him:

Jon faced him. "If you've had the Horn of Joramun all along, why haven't you used it? Why bother building turtles and sending Thenns to kill us in our beds? If this horn is all the songs say, why not just sound it and be done?"

It was Dalla who answered him, Dalla great with child, lying on her pile of furs beside the brazier. "We free folk know things you kneelers have forgotten. Sometimes the short road is not the safest, Jon Snow. The Horned Lord once said that sorcery is a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." (ASOS, Jon X)

Melisandre gives a counter-argument to this:

He turned back to the red priestess. Jon could feel her warmth. She has power. The thought came unbidden, seizing him with iron teeth, but this was not a woman he cared to be indebted to, not even for his little sister. "Dalla told me something once. Val's sister, Mance Rayder's wife. She said that sorcery was a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it."

"A wise woman." Melisandre rose, her red robes stirring in the wind. "A sword without a hilt is still a sword, though, and a sword is a fine thing to have when foes are all about. (ADWD, Jon VI)

What we can conclude:

Dragons are associated with kings, ashes and cinders.

Fire is a fickle thing, and so is sorcery. Dragons are no different. As Maester Aemon said: "Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame." (AFFC, Samwell IV)

Sometimes the short road is not the safest: Dragons might destroy a lot of the dead, but also a lot of the living as well.

A treacherous weapon is better than no weapon if you have foes. There's risk of personal injury however.

Exhibit C:

"My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons."

No, I suppose not. "My apologies, Lord Tycho." (ADWD, Jon IX)

What we can conclude: Angering dragons or dragonlords has consequences.

Exhibit D:

Burning dead children had ceased to trouble Jon Snow; live ones were another matter. Two kings to wake the dragon. The father first and then the son, so both die kings. The words had been murmured by one of the queen's men as Maester Aemon had cleaned his wounds. Jon had tried to dismiss them as his fever talking. Aemon had demurred. "There is power in a king's blood," the old maester had warned, "and better men than Stannis have done worse things than this." The king can be harsh and unforgiving, aye, but a babe still on the breast? Only a monster would give a living child to the flames. (ADWD, Jon I)

"Refuse, and the boy will burn. Not on the morrow, nor the day after … but soon, whenever Melisandre needs to wake a dragon or raise a wind or work some other spell requiring king's blood. Mance will be ash and bone by then, so she will claim his son for the fire, and Stannis will not deny her. If you do not take the boy away, she will burn him." (ADWD, Jon II)

"Pyp should learn to hold his tongue. I have heard the same from others. King's blood, to wake a dragon." (AFFC, Samwell I)

"I looked at that book Maester Aemon left me. The Jade Compendium. The pages that told of Azor Ahai. Lightbringer was his sword. Tempered with his wife's blood if Votar can be believed. Thereafter Lightbringer was never cold to the touch, but warm as Nissa Nissa had been warm. In battle the blade burned fiery hot. Once Azor Ahai fought a monster. When he thrust the sword through the belly of the beast, its blood began to boil. Smoke and steam poured from its mouth, its eyes melted and dribbled down its cheeks, and its body burst into flame."

What we can conclude:

Lightbringer seems to have an effect similar to dragons.

The price for dragons is high.

Conclusion

Currently, Jon Snow believes dragons to be extinct. If he survives and finds out about their return, textual evidence suggests he might be interested in them as a potential weapon against the Others. However, Jon's chapters seem to contain warnings about their use. Which asks the question: will he heed them?

Link to Part II: Of Dragons and Gold

#asoiaf #jon snow #dragons #asoiaf meta #original post