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liesonthefloordramatically · 7 years

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Okay, NWM recap for those who care about what happened to Bea (extremely condensed despite the length and probably missing a lot, because I don’t think I had more than about five consecutive minutes of downtime).

Spoilers for overall semester two plot to some extent; best to avoid if you’re playing in the next few weeks:

- had to watch her best friend Vita get “fixed” by her mother and was totally helpless to do anything

- nearly started sobbing when Vita turned into a perfect Unsoiled lady and started referring to Bea solely as “Hamilton”

- then helped lead a ritual to bring back Vita, using a combination of unorthodox healing techniques, mind magic, and Vita’s sister’s memories

- found out Vita knew her mother was going to do this and let her whammy her so she could gather evidence

- had a little bit of a panic attack

- THIS WAS ALL THE FIRST HOUR OF THE GAME

- participated in the Dan Obeah house ritual and bound herself to the house in a moment that was nice and good and definitely not setting up for her to be a self-sacrificing disaster child

- led a tempus magic study group that accidentally summoned a slagerod from another time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- couldn’t send the slagerod back because it was magically tied to her mentee, Ari, who was definitely not evil and she could trust with her life

- gave said slagerod to the care of Ari, which was a fine and safe decision

- was handed a postcard during morning announcements by Bastian and suddenly gained his magical ability (and could not find Bastian to figure out what the frick he’d done)

- spent morning cursebreaking class surreptitiously making an artifact for the ritual to separate Ari from the slagerod

- was mostly a reasonable person during ethics class but kept being distracted by Bastian’s magic being a fricking pain

- skipped PE to go to ritual magic, in large part because I could not find the PE classroom for the life of me (also neither Bea nor I wanted to do PE)

- went to track down Bastian

- found out that he had switched his prophecy with hers (and his prophecy was tied directly to his magic)

- demanded that he change it back

- when he refused to, tried to mindbreak him but aborted that partway through when she accidentally discovered that he’d done all of this because he cared about her and didn’t want her to die and knew that she wouldn’t do anything about her prophecy unless he had it

- Bea had a really bad Friday morning

- also people kept coming up to her and being like, “You’re going to DIE???? What the frick, Bea????” and she was like, “It’s FINE; I just need my prophecy back because BASTIAN isn’t allowed to DIE”

- found out that Ari had lent the slagerod to Savia

- freaked out a little bit

- performed a ritual to sever Jae and Ari’s connection to the slagerod

- found out Ari had a gorecaster mark because she was being controlled by an evil version of herself from an alternate timeline

- freaked out a lot

- had to go to mind magic class, where Bastian showed up and was smug and terrible and also had Bea’s tick for dealing with anxiety and mindreading overload which made her profoundly pissed at him (”He has my tick! He stole my tick!”)

- accidentally found out Barius had a crush on her leading to some PROFOUNDLY AWKWARD CONVERSATION

- was terrified of everything in cryptozoology class and then failed a crypto quiz very, very hard

- was there for Jay’s mom showing up and shielded Savia using tempus magic before yelling, “I don’t want to do this again! I don’t want to do this again!” but fortunately was not set on fire this time

- got a new, actual wand made by Lee

- managed to change her prophecy with the help of Bell and the Artificier Association and The Trickster so that she wasn’t fated to die anymore

- discovered that if she just handed Bastian the postcard back their fates would be switched back

- everyone else turned around while she punched him in the face

- had a conversation with Barius about being ace which was just...nice

- sent back the evil version of Ari to her original timeline after separating it from the real version

- was promoted to house president with Jayden

- wrote letters of recommendation for Robin and Ari to join the Tribunal

- performed a forensic ritual with Prof. Oxendine and Vita to track who had been using the slagerod the study group accidentally summoned

- was having an okay and fine time with Jay when suddenly Jason showed up possessed by Thanatos Akeldama and started raising revenants and wreaking havoc

- sprinted to the ritual room to inform The Conclave

- helped coordinate the defense against Thanatos

- shielded the ritual to exorcise Jason with tempus magic since she was the only tempus mage there powerful enough to pull it off

- getting to swap over from “tempus minorum” to “tempus majorum” (which she had never cast!!! Bea, don’t do this) when she realized that she wasn’t casting with enough power was a danged cool moment for me that I don’t think was noticed by anyone else (this is what fic is for)

- gave up at minimum 2 1/2 hours of her life in order to shield that ritual (that was the calculation we came up with at the time; in hindsight, I think it was actually significantly more than that, given the number of people involved and the amount of time she was holding that danged spell)

- accidentally unstuck herself from time because she way overextended ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

- was fortunately brought back to the present by her friends (although not without saying some Extremely Weird stuff about their futures) and then yelled at for being a self-sacrificing disaster child

- led the ritual to induct new members of The Conclave, including two members of her tempus magic study group!

- had an Extremely Bad Time during her first astromancy exam because she had to face the three Fates and A. she’s terrified of prophecy and B. they were Not Happy that she’d been messing with fate (however unwillingly) the previous day

- got a prophecy that happiness would always be just beyond her reach

- was very chill about this because she was like, “Well, I wasn’t expecting to be happy anyway” (calm down, Bea)

- was bound together by Fate to three other students, leading to the creation of the Fantastic Four

- also found out that her death would be totally useless and accomplish nothing

- came back to a slagerod sitting out in The Pit and spent a couple of minutes in panic mode, watching Ari to make sure that she wasn’t going evil again

- then had a complete and total meltdown because pretty much all of her self-worth was wrapped up in her utility to others and also she blamed Bastian for messing up her fate (she would rather die young and useful than live a long, useless life; yikes, Bea)

- fortunately was talked down/yelled at by a whole bunch of people

- basically, she spent 2-3 hours sobbing on Saturday morning; good times

- had a surprisingly okay second astromancy exam, probably because mindreading is what she’s really good at

- helped Milo plan a ritual

- confessed to Barius that she’d been self-medicating with tempus magic for pretty much the full year

- helped shield aforementioned Milo-led ritual by calling on her connection to the school wards because she’s smart but not, like, THAT smart

- found out that channeling the school wards by herself is doable but extremely painful; wound up limping for the rest of the event (OOC my entire left leg gave up on life so I’m glad I had an IC reason to be limping)

- confessed to Milo and Hana that she’d been self-medicating with tempus magic, which freaked them out a bit

- Milo convinced her to go to addiction support group with him

- also had a nice conversation with Milo about being ace

- found out that Jayden had been hiding some pretty substantial secrets and was planning on leaving the school for good

- freaked the frick out but also offered to help them escape even though she knew it meant she would have to lead the house alone

- attended graduation and teared up through pretty much every speech because she kept thinking about Jayden

- took Vita to the dance

- was made house president during the dance because of legal technicalities

- Jayden told her that staying was a mistake and Bea said, “If that’s a mistake, it’s one I want to make” THEREBY FULFILLING HER CHANGED PROPHECY

- I’m still in awe that that worked out like that what the frickin’ heck

- Jayden stayed

- Dan Obeah didn’t win the house cup but Bea was super proud of her house anyway!

Anyway, brace yourselves for so much fricking fic. It’s going to happen. Brace yourselves.

#Queenie actually says something on this blog #apparently I was stressing people out just by how stressed Bea was at all times #this is DANGED LONG; I apologize #and I could have written even more lskjdlfkjafkhdaskjfhakh #THIS IS WHAT FIC IS FOR #New World Magischola #addiction /

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red-jaebyrd · 4 years

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My Brother’s Keeper

Ric hadn’t set out to make a new friend that day. In fact he hadn’t even expected to see the guy again once he had helped Ric push his busted cab to the side of the road.

Hardly anyone ever went out of their way to help others in Bludhaven. It surprised Ric when this guy, Jason just appeared as if out of nowhere to yell at honking drivers and help Ric get his cab out of the way of traffic. Ric had invited him to The Prodigal for a beer that night as a thank you. He wasn’t sure if Jason would even show up that night, but to his surprise he did.

“So what do you do when you're not swooping in to help complete strangers push their broken down cars out of rush hour traffic?” Ric asked.

Jason laughed. “Little bit of this, little bit of that, mostly free-lance stuff.”

It was a vague answer, but Ric let it slide. Everyone had their secrets, he couldn’t fault a guy he just met to have a few.

“Must be nice. Is it real lucrative?”

“The pay isn’t bad,” Jason shrugged. “I get to set my own hours and carry a gun.”

“Can’t argue with those perks,” Ric chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “So did you grow up around here?”

“Nah, I grew up in Gotham, what about you?”

Ric tensed at hearing Gotham and gripped the handle of his beer mug tighter. He really hoped Jason wasn’t another one of Wayne’s associates trying to jog his memory and lure him back ‘home’. Maybe he should just play along.

“Same, seems everyone one I’ve run into lately is from Gotham.” Ric challenged.

“Well, to be fair Gotham is a pretty big place,” Jason replied causally. “So what brought you to Bludhaven?”

Ric shrugged allowing the tension to leave his shoulders. “Let’s just say I needed somewhere new to spread my wings.”

“And you chose Bludhaven?” Jason snorted. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Shut up.” Ric laughed, elbowing Jason in the arm. “Don’t knock it. You’re here too. What brought you to the ‘haven’?”

Jason ran a hand through his hair. His brow furrowed in thought before he answered. At first Ric thought that maybe he was prying too much into this guy’s life, or asking too many personal questions. He couldn’t help it. He liked talking and Jason was the first person besides Bea that was actually interested in talking to him.

“Gotham wasn’t safe for us anymore, so my brothers and I bailed and came here.”

“Looks like you left just in time. I heard a lot of crazy shit with the Bat was happening in Gotham. Wait, did you say ‘brothers’?” Ric’s smiled wistfully.

Jason nodded. “I have four. One was staying with our sister the last time I checked in with him and the other two came here with me.”

Ric had always wondered what it would be like to be part of a big family. He wondered if he had ever asked his parents for a brother or a sister. If they hadn’t died, would they have had more children? Would he have been a good big brother to them? Wayne did have a younger son, so Ric was technically a big brother, but he couldn’t remember his life with him. When it came to the Waynes, Ric was just a son and brother on paper.

“Where’s the other one? You said four brothers, but only mentioned three of them.”

He watched as Jason scratched along a groove in the wood of the bar, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. Ric’s stomach flipped as he started to speculate that maybe something serious did happen to Jason’s family. Or maybe Ric was just making Jason feel uncomfortable with all his questions. Ric did that sometimes when he got too excited talking to new people. Jason took a swig of his beer before answering Ric’s question.

“Our older brother...” Jason answered, running his fingers along the condensation of his mug. “…he went missing a few months ago. It’s been hard on the family, especially our father and my youngest brother.”

“I’m sorry. I can imagine it’s been difficult for everyone, especially you. It can’t be easy being the one that they depend on.”

Jason shook his head. “No, truthfully it sucks sometimes, but it has its moments. He was– I had a good role model and they’re good kids. They just miss him. I miss him too.”

“Well you got them somewhere safe,” Ric clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Well…relatively safe. Any leads on his whereabouts?”

“Nothing but dead ends. Deep down I don’t really think he wants to found,” Jason shrugged. “But I’ll keep looking for him. So what about you, any siblings?”

Ric knew a dismissal when he heard it. He didn’t mind the change in subject. He couldn’t blame Jason for not elaborating. It had to be stressful for anyone looking for a missing family member. He assumed this question was bound to make its way onto him.

“No, I’m an only child. My parents died when I was eight.”

“Shit, sorry man. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s fine. You told me about your brother. I can talk about this. I did get taken into a good home, so I shouldn’t really complain,” Ric shrugged.

“But…”

Ric shook his head. “It’s just frustrating to have these people who are supposed to be my ‘family’ constantly telling me how I should be living my life.”

“Oh, I know how that is, trust me. It’s the worst.”

“Right? Why can’t I live my life how I want to? I’m an adult. They’re not even interested in getting to know me,” Ric ranted. “They just want their precious ‘Dick Grayson’ back. It’s my life now not his, let me live it how I want to.”

Shit. He went too far. He could see the look of surprise on Jason’s face. The lull of silence between them stretched and Ric couldn’t form a cohesive thought. Ric’s brain was scrambling for something else to say, anything to say, to fix the mess he just made but nothing was coming. Instead his mind started replaying all recent moments of disappointed people coming and going in his life claiming that they loved him, but not wanting to take the time get to know him.

Ric really hated his brain sometimes and how there was no filter between what he was thinking and what came out of his mouth. He needed to explain himself to Jason fast. Ric knew Jason had to have noticed the gnarly scar on the side of his head. Maybe the scar would give him a free pass at his unfiltered choice of words.

“Sorry, sorry, that uh kinda came out of nowhere. I…uh…had a bit of an accident…” Ric explained, pointing at his scar. “…I got shot a few months ago and well let’s just say my “family” or whatever they want to call themselves, didn’t take to my recovery well.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes injuries that intense can either bring a family closer together or tear them apart.”

Ric shrugged his shoulders. It had been rough having to relearn how to do everyday tasks like eating, writing his name, and walking. His “family” and friends had been there at every therapy session encouraging him with their words and overall presence. But the worst of it had been their reactions to the news that his memories of them were gone.

“I couldn’t remember them,” Ric admitted, staring at his near empty beer mug. “They were literal strangers to me the moment I opened my eyes from the coma, and it was something that they wouldn’t accept. In the end their concern for me and my recovery just felt conditional, so I left and came here.”

“Damn. Do they at least check up on you?” Jason asked.

“The old man used to, but I haven’t seen him in a while. A red-headed chick did too, but I told her not to bother anymore. Not if she’s going to keep looking at me searching for ‘him’ to come back. Apparently the other guy they really want was a real ‘Golden boy’, that’s not me.”

Jason snorted.

“What did I say?” Ric quirked a smile.

“Nothing,” Jason smirked, and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need them.”

“No you don’t. I know they’re family, but fuck them.” Jason clinked his beer mug against Ric’s.

Oh Ric really liked this guy.

8888

The next few weeks Ric and Jason met up at The Prodigal for beers. Some nights all they did was talk and drink. Other nights they drank and played pool. Jason became one of Ric’s favorite drinking buddies.

Ric couldn’t legitimately remember ever having a feeling of kinship with anyone like Jason before in his life. It was nice and a bit scary at the same time letting someone new in his life. Still, instead of running away from this newfound friendship, Ric embraced it.

Friendship was a concept Ric wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to again. He didn’t have many friends in Bludhaven, well friends that he remembered. Dick’s old friends wanted nothing to do with him. They kept waiting and pushing for Dick to “come back”. When he finally snapped at them that Dick was gone and never coming back, they stopped visiting him. He did have Bea. She was the only one who had welcomed him with open arms and genuinely wanted to get to know him.

Jason had been the only other person he had run into that also didn’t have some hidden agenda to “bring Dick back”. With Jason there wasn’t any pressure or demand to be anyone other than himself. He could be Ric with no expectations thrust upon him. Jason empathized with Ric’s struggle to find his identity apart from the Waynes.

This was what made hanging out with Jason so easy. The anxiety of having to censor himself, afraid he might say or do something that was so inherently not Dick didn’t exist when he was around Jason. It was such a relief and a weight off Ric’s shoulders to just exist in a space with a friend and be himself.

Once Jason had opened up to Ric, he learned that there was a whole slew of shit that had happened to his friend in just a short amount of time. Aside from his brother going missing, Jason had a serious falling out with his dad that had caused a significant rift between them causing him to take his brothers and leave. However, the most devastating news had to be hearing that Jason’s best friend had been killed while staying at an inpatient rehabilitation facility.

“I wish I had some advice to give you, but something tells me you weren’t looking for any,” Ric said.

“No, not really, just a sympathetic ear, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about your best friend. That really sucks what happened to him.”

“Thanks, man. At least we got to work one last job together before he died. Anyway, that’s enough of my bullshit. What’s up with you? You look like my little brother after seven Red Bulls and 3 hours of sleep.”

Ric sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’ve been having these dreams lately of faceless people in weird costumes. In the dream I feel like I know them. I’m ready to say their name but I can’t talk. I wake up and by the time I try to recall the images I can’t remember them.”

“Do you think your memories are trying to come back?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Ric shrugged.

“But…you don’t want them to come back, do you?”

It felt silly getting so worked up over something like lost memories resurfacing. Ric should be happy that parts of his lost past was trying to get through to him. He should be relieved that the 15 years of lost memories were finally starting to return, but he wasn’t happy or relieved. He was worried.

“What happens to me when I start remembering everything? Will I still be Ric when Dick’s memories come flooding back filling in the gaps? What if I don’t like the things I start to remember? What then?”

Jason turned in his stool to face Ric. “No matter what, you’ll still be Ric. You’ll still be the guy with the busted cab I had to push out of traffic. You’ll still be the guy that kicks my ass playing pool. You’ll still be the guy who insists on buying the first round and listening to all my bullshit. You’ll still be you, just with new memories.

“No matter what happens you are not obligated to go back to your old life or live your life by your old memories. You don’t owe those assholes in Gotham anything.”

Ric nodded allowing Jason’s words to sink in.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Jason clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder. “Next round is on me.”

The anxiety slowly started to ebb away as Ric watched his friend leave their high top table and make his way to the bar to get another round of beers.

Ric couldn’t stop the new memories from coming. They were coming whether he wanted them to or not. And when they did come he was glad to have found such a great friend in Jason. The man was right, no matter what happened, he was not obligated to go back to his old life or live his life by his old memories.

Part 2: Somebody That I Used to Know

#Ric Grayson #Jason Todd #Batman #batfic #batbros #batbros bonding #Ric Grayson needs a hug #Protective Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #batfamily #Ric's not that bad once you get to know him #my fics

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

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Double Heart | Chapter Seventeen ~ Split

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1482

Warnings: None

A/n Hello hello! I know it’s not one of my normal update days, but this one is short, so enjoy this angsty bonus chapter!

Cosima

Weeks pass in routine. In the mornings I research with Alex or study Sindarin alone, sometimes venturing into the garden or library to occupy my time. The lunch hours are typically spent in the company of friends, and Lavandil and I have been passing many of our afternoons together in her shop. As the summer continues, business only grows, and I can see why she asked for the help. Her art is quite popular! She tried to teach me how to weave and, unsurprisingly, I’m terrible. So I mainly help clean and work with the customers.

Three nights a week, Alex, Baranor and I meet in the library and continue our lessons. On that, I actually am making progress. It’s allowed me to converse with Lavandil’s customers in their own language. It’s also helped me feel much more self-sufficient here. No longer must I have to rely on Lavandil or Rumil to translate when we go out. Ellyn I speak with still have to slow their words and repeat things several times, and sometimes I must ask for clarification, but the progress really is liberating.

Two days a week, right after breakfast, Alex and I meet Elrond in his study.

Lord Elrond insists on using the power in his fæ to attempt to aid us in recovering our memories. I hate to admit it, but his efforts are wasted and, on my part, not really wanted. Besides the memory of Mara and Nonna, I don’t remember anything, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to. I’m already too attached to the people here, and I’ve seen where that’s gotten me. I don’t want to remember people from home — love them, miss them, and then realize I can never return to them.

I don’t make much progress, anyway. Most days, Alex and I have nothing but headaches and exhaustion to show for our work. Every now and then, one of us will remember something small — a passing event or an aquauntaince from childhood — but nothing of real interest. Elrond agrees that the headaches and exhaustion are signs that we are not yet healed from whatever ordeal resulted in us arriving in Arda. He’s been keeping an eye on our fæs — apparently they are somehow injured — and says that the original wounds are all but healed.

Alex’s progress is less encouraging. His old wounds are healing, but nearly every time Elrond or Baranor checks, there’s a new injury. They don’t know what’s causing it, but privately, I have a theory. While Alex says he’s accepted this world, knowing him, there’s a part that’s still hanging on to our homeworld. Maybe that’s causing too much stress to allow him to heal. Because I’m healing, and I’ve fully accepted this world for what it is — impossible, different, but real.

And then at night time, training continues with Haldir.

I am careful to keep distance between us except when absolutely necessary. By the way he does the same, he’s recognized the urgent precariousness of our situation. As much as I want to confess the feelings I keep so tightly bottled up inside, to fall into his arms and ask him to love me forever, I cannot.

Because my forever is abysmally different than his.

So I keep my distance.

My effort to avoid excessive contact or time with him is helped by the fact that, not long after our first training session, he became incredibly busy. Though relations between him and Glorfindel are still tense, the two work tirelessly to train the newer guard. Often, by the time I make my way down to breakfast, Haldir is long gone, off to lead drills.

The distance between us hasn’t helped my internal predicament.

Too often, I catch myself following the line of his jaw, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, wanting to return to that excitement of just the two of us under the stars.

I don’t act on these thoughts, nor communicate them to anyone, though Lavandil certainly tries to break that resolve. She’s adamant that, even with my lifespan to consider, it is better to spend the time we have together in happiness rather than holding ourselves back from something that could be great.

I forcefully disagree.

I’d rather cause myself a little pain now than put Haldir in a position where he could be broken later.

Surprisingly, Rumil, once my tormentor, has become my closest ally. Any time someone attempts to bring up the subject of me and Haldir, Rumil promptly shuts it down, usually changing the subject to something outlandish enough to properly distract everyone. He kindly occupies my newfound free time and we go riding together at least once a week. Since Rumil has Roch, Haldir allows me to take Faervel out, and, where the horse used to be indifferent towards me at best, he now whinnies in greeting the second I set foot in the stables.

My life in Imladris is nice. It’s peaceful. It’s filled with wonderful friends and so much to discover. And I’m happy, there’s no doubt about that…even if something is missing. I caught my feelings early and took preventative action by distancing myself from Haldir, which is good…but it’s…unfulfilling, in a way, to stay far from him. I miss eating meals together and talking about our days before training sessions. I miss constantly having him around. I miss him teasing me and moments where it’s just us.

I miss him.

But I won’t lose my resolve.

If my sadness can save Haldir pain, then I will bear it.

{***}

Haldir

Summer in Imladris passes quickly. My days revolve around training the newer guard, and they show promising progress. Lothlórien’s borders are much more extensive than that of Imladris’, and I am confident adopting some of the techniques I use with my wardens at home to fit Elrond’s guard will help them be more prepared when the orcs attack again. My brothers have been indispensable, kindly offering their help and allowing me to use them as examples for the other soldiers. Orophin, of course, plans his schedule around Lavandil’s, but I have him with us about three days a week. Rumil joins nearly every day, only disappearing on Saturday mornings to take the horses out with Cosima.

Cosima.

My mind has been consumed by her for weeks.

If I am being honest, it’s been consumed with her long before then, probably up to the moment she arrived in this world. I now understand that my desire to keep her near me after the attack, and every moment after, was not only a preventative measure to make her feel better — it was my need to keep her close. To keep her safe. To have that reassurance that she is alright, and, if we were to be attacked again, I could defend her myself.

I really do owe Rumil an apology.

Turns out my brother knows me better than I know myself.

But despite the startling realization that I want to be with a human woman—not just any human woman, Cosima—the days continue.

Not of small concern is Cosima’s health which, mercifully, is improving. Her sessions with Elrond to attempt to regain her memories must be helping — though her memories have not returned, the scars on her fæ are nearly completely healed.

Aside from my monitoring of her health through Elrond and Baranor, my busy schedule prevents me from seeking her out. We continue to train together three times a week — she is making vast improvements — but our interactions are hesitant, a little awkward. I worry I overstepped my bounds that first night, or perhaps, even before that — maybe the night under the stars — for she certainly keeps her distance now. No longer do we eat together or talk in our free time. It’s a strange feeling, but it causes me stress not to see her during the day. Even a quick interaction would be enough, just to catch a glimpse of her smile or hear the approval of her laugh, but those are few and far between.

But, as much as it pains me, it is for the best.

I hate to think of it this way, but Cosima’s life is short and her future uncertain. Were she an elleth, there would be no issue — I could tell her of my feelings and she could return them and we could spend the rest of our never-ending lives together.

But Cosima is human. Even if she does choose to stay in Arda forever, her forever and mine are vastly different. If I give in, do as I so desperately want to and build a life with her…

She does not know it, but she has the power to break me.

And, while I still hold a sliver of the ability to keep that from happening, I must seize on it.

A/n Thanks for reading, and happy weekend! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! See you Monday with a new chapter :)

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala

#haldir #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1366

surveys by kolorfulkylee

What's your current favorite song at the moment? I truthfully haven’t even listened to music much, if at all, this month, so I don’t have a current favorite. Work is just crrrrrrrrazy and has taken up 98% of my time this month.

Have you ever read any self-help books? No, I’ve never been a big believer of those.

What was the last book you read? I haven’t been reading anything; haven’t for a while now.

Do you thank the bus driver? Well I don’t ride the bus; but in the rare instances I find myself being driven, I do always thank the driver after the trip, even if it’s just my mom.

How many tabs are open right now? My window is actually quite busy at the moment with a bunch of Bzoink surveys open haha - I have 21 tabs at the moment, apart from this one.

Have you ever had your heart broken? Of course, in various ways.

Do you wear makeup much? Oh I never wear it lol. Sometimes we’ll have to lead a big-ish virtual event for work and I’ll put on minimal makeup for those to look presentable; but that only happens like once every 3-4 months.

When was the last time you flirted? Eh, not my thing.

What should you be doing right now? I just have to work on this deck for a client but at least I’ve already worked on the research and all the groundwork last week, so all I really have to do today is to beautify the presentation.

Do you usually get good grades at school? Yeah, but I’m also aware of the fact that I didn’t maximize my full potential in school. I did well enough to pass tests and classes, but I know I could’ve performed even better if I just cared more about some of the classes.

What do you think of conceited people? I mean they’re irritating, for obvious reasons.

How did you and your first best-friend meet? We were seatmates in Grade 1 and I accidentally stabbed her hand with a pencil. And then for some reason we became friends from there.

Do you like short hair on girls? Doesn’t matter to me.

How about long hair on guys? Also doesn’t matter to me.

Anything you really want to say to someone right now but can't? I want to tell Bea that I’m thinking of resigning but I’m less than a month in my new position and our team is still a bit short-handed, so I don’t have the heart to leave just yet. I’m really hoping this is just managerial jitters and that I’ll get over it all soon.

When was the last time someone told you they loved you? Not sure, but I’m certain it’s been within the last seven days or so. My family and friends me remind me quite often.

Are you a righty or a lefty? Right.

Do you think someone's thinking about you? I doubt it.

What is your favorite month? April, for my birth month.

What is your favorite color? Pastel pink.

Who was your last phone call from? A work contact; he just wanted to flesh out some details since we’re planning to partner with him for something.

Have you ever trusted someone you wish you wouldn't have? Sure.

What color are your eyes? They’re dark brown.

If you could go back in time and change things, would you? I wouldn’t. I’ve never seen the point in changing the past when I’ve already made it this far anyway; all that matters to me is the things I do and change moving forward.

Do you like your smile? Sure.

What made you the happiest today? I haven’t seen it yet but apparently so much crazy shit happened at the Royal Rumble - Mickie James appearing with her Impact title just being one of them - and everything I’m hearing so far has me so giddy and happy and excited. Wrestling is insane for always finding a way to pull me back all the time.

Who was the last boy you texted? Just another contact for work.

Do you get along with your parents? It could be closer but I’ll take what I can, considering how destructive our relationship has been for most of my life. Where we’re at now is actually already quite healthy and no longer as toxic.

Are you scared of needles? Yep. I hate them. Like I’m all for vaccinations but being booked for a vaccination dose always causes me to feel stressed out, lol.

Do you believe love can last forever? Uh sure, with the right person and in the right circumstances. It might not be for everyone but I have remained idealistic about love.

Do you like the ocean? Yeah, I wish I could be around it more. I used to not like the beach as a teenager, but it’s grown on me a lot the older I’ve gotten.

Are you allergic to anything? If so, what? I’m pretty sure I have a slight allergy to grass and some types of fabric since I’ll get an itchy rash at least once a month.

Do you know anyone who is/was a drug addict? I know of at least one relative.

You're having a baby boy; what's his name? Owen.

You're having a baby girl; what's her name? Olivia. Haha interesting coincidence with the O.

What is something that smells bad to you? I can’t stand the smell of fruits in general but I think I react worst to mangoes. I just can’t bring myself to like them no matter how much I’ve tried in the past.

What is currently the most tan spot on your body right now? Idk...my whole body? I’m already pretty tan as it is lol.

What is your dream job? I’d love to be in-house PR for a company I admire, like WWE or Mythical.

Would you say you are 'popular'? No. But then again do people in their mid-20s still track who’s ‘popular’ in their scene? I haven’t cared about this since high school.

Do you tend to cave into peer pressure? Meh, sometimes. I don’t do anything I know I’ll be completely uncomfortable with, though.

Have you lost anyone close to you? To death, to falling-outs, to the natural course of time, yeah.

Would you say that you are an intelligent person? In some aspects, sure. I know I’m lacking in a number of areas, though.

Who was the last person to hurt you? My mom.

Are good-byes easy or hard for you? Hard.

Are you quick to judge others? Sometimes I can be, but I let it fizzle out as quick as it comes.

Do you like the night or day better? Evening. I enjoy doing things a lot more by then.

Do you think long distance relationships work out? If there’s an equal amount of effort and investment on both ends, yeah. Timing also matters a lot in this situation too, I guess.

Would you say you give out trust easily, or do people have to work for it? I give it easily but it’s also easy for me to take it away.

Do you shut down your computer when you leave, or just leave it on? It’s technically on all the time. I just close it when I’m done using, but it’s been a while since I’ve actually shut a laptop completely down.

What flavor Dum-Dum is your favorite? I’ve never even heard of this.

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go; why? I’d love to be at a beachfront resort where there are no other guests. Just me and the sea and the sunset.

Do you swear often? Yeah, a few times a day I would say.

Who was the last person to let you down? Idk, maybe myself.

Do you tell people the truth even if it'll hurt them? Only when it’s necessary to be told.

Are you on a laptop or a desktop right now? I’m using a laptop. It’s been years since I’ve used a desktop.

Have you ever tripped over your own feet? Hahaha, of course.

Do you find yourself trying to be strong for others? Yep. Not the nicest feeling, but if it helps to make the people around me feel more comforted then I’ll keep doing it.

Have you ever done something that you knew was wrong? Sure.

When was the last time you broke down and cried? Last Monday. I had felt like crying every day last week but I’m usually too exhausted to do so. Monday was the only time I managed to squeeze in a mini breakdown, lmao.

What is your favorite pair of shoes? I have a pair of off-white Ivy Park sneakers that I really like.

Would you say that you give good advice? Depends on the situation. I’d say I’m better at advice if I’ve already experienced something related to the issue at hand; but obviously finding the right words to say just gets harder when you’re trying to help in something you can barely relate to.

Have you seen your best friend cry before? Only like once or twice. Angela rarely cries in front of me.

Do you like to make cupcakes? I’d enjoy it if I was with friends, yeah. Making cupcakes isn’t something I often do, though.

What's your favorite crayon in the crayon pack? I remember being partial to this color called Macaroni and Cheese since I found it hilarious as a kid. It was just a shade of fucking yellow.

Do you have a Twitter account? Yep, one for my personal and another for my buy-and-sell shenanigans.

Do you enjoy staying at hotels? Yeah, as long as they’re clean and provide excellent service and stuff. But considering my parents are both in the hospitality industry and I grew up in and around hotels, I will say my definition of excellent service is probably different from others’ lol.

Name your life goal. Being able to travel the world.

What are your thoughts on abortion? Pro-choice, man. Obviously it’s a very difficult choice to make and I personally would never have abortion as an option, but that’s exactly what it boils down to – a choice that every woman has a right to make.

What color do you want to dye your hair? Olive green.

Are you any good at cooking? Not a chance.

Favorite Disney movie? Toy Story.

Do you prefer the Band Aids for little kids? [Hello Kitty, Dinosaurs, etc.] I mean I don’t have a Band-Aid preference per se lmao but if there are any themed Band-Aids on-hand, my 23-going-on-24 year old ass would honestly still go for those.

Have you ever broken a bone? If so, what bone/s? I’ve never broken a bone.

Do you like the smell of gasoline? Enjoy is too strong of a word. I like it but I don’t seek it out.

What do you want to name your kids; if you ever have kids? I have no idea. I feel like the feeling will only come once I’m actually expecting a kid.

What's your ringtone? Just the default ones on my phone.

Have you ever picked strawberries or apples? Nope.

Is anything bothering you? A little bit, yeah.

Are you on a Laptop, Desktop, Cell, or something else? Laptop.

Does thunder and lightning frighten you? No, I find them comforting.

What time did you go to bed last night? Around 2 AM.

#survey #surveys

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whoslaurapalmer · 3 years

Note

for the ask about fic excerpt thing, from the three part folding mirror:

Dewey grabbed a set of Agatha Christie translations he kept on hand for when things got boring (rarely, but Beatrice got bored easily, and if you gave her a translation she sat down for a while to prove she could read it) and walked to the next aisle to shelve them. His foot snagged on something in the middle of the floor and he stumbled, hugging the books close to his chest so they didn’t fall. He turned around to see what it was, and found Kit blinking up at him with wide eyes from where she sat on the floor, a thick book open in her lap, her long red dress pooled around her on the floor. Her dress had an off-the-shoulder neckline, but most of her shoulders were covered by the matching red cape pulled around her. In the wide diamond of skin left between the cape and the top of the dress, he could see the sharp edge of something black around her collarbone, a point of the nearly-finished tattoo she’d been getting done. The red sleeves disappeared into short white gloves, with her hands folded together at the bottom of the book pages. Oh. Dewey’s heart pounded for a horrible, exhilarating moment, his mouth going dry. He swallowed once, twice, a third time.

(I love how you described kit's dress, and it feels like a lot of thought went into it. And everything about the way Kit and Dewey interacts speaks to me.)

thank you mayo!!!!!

-so dewey has agatha christie because i have been TRYING to read murder on the orient express, for like a month or so now, and i liked the first two chapters a great deal, and i'm very excited to read more of it, my brain has just been everywhere else!! i keep checking the ebook out from my library and going, 'yeah, gonna read this!' and then i had to finish this fic, and then i had to finish the peaks fic, and then poison for breakfast happened, and then i started rereading bad beginning, so like, who knows, when i will read, murder on the orient express. certainly not me, apparently.

-also, it winds up being really, really funny that he was carrying around christie books and then kit's like, 'oh hey bertrand wanted me to give you this terrible trashy murder mystery' and he has to put them in the same pile.

-would dewey's archives have agatha christie translations?? i mean, why not.

-beatrice just seems like she can be occupied by proving she can do something. and she and bertrand are still so present in everyone's lives even when they aren't there!! this is my new favorite thought about bea, that you can sit her down with a translation and she will stop doing everything else to prove she can translate it.

-SO I STRUGGLED A LOT with trying to figure out how kit and dewey were going to, initially interact in this scene? 'meet' is weird. they've met. but something about getting them together was hard to figure out. originally, when this fic was, not, 15,000-odd words, and was totally different, kit was going to come down into the archives to see dewey testing out all the spots on the floor that creaked (1, because my mental map for the snickets+denouements is like, kit and dewey are about being heard, ernest and lemony are about being understood, jacques and frank are about being seen, and 2, because it would've been a very small and cute callback (call-forward?) to babybea doing the same thing in babybea fic) (and like it kinda hurts my heart that i couldn't put it in there because, oh babybea.) but it felt like, with how i was picturing that scene, tonally it wouldn't have worked here. i just didn't think it vibed in where this was going, compared to where that idea was going.

i thought a lot about, how do i get them in the same aisle?? how do you write the weirdness of two people meeting?? people who already know each other but are being super awkward because neither of them knows how to function in a relationship??????? i was just drawing a blank on how to make it work in the scene and make it enjoyable. sometimes, the stupidest things trip you up. and then i thought, what if she's just already there, and then i thought it would be really cute if dewey literally trips over her because she got absorbed in a book. i thought it would be very kit of her to do, to get distracted by the pursuit of knowledge. and then it led to their game, so it worked out well.

-clothing descriptions, as i have said, before, are hell. haven't we all written fanfic for a million years????? didn't we all live through our own bad writing eras of block-paragraph clothing descriptions, and aren't we all haunted by the sheer volume of them we wrote in middle school??????? is it hopefully not just me???????? so when i try to describe characters and their clothing now (also buildings, rooms, anything that needs description), i try to do it, very sparingly, only what matters, whatever is necessary to say 'they're clothed and it's distinct to their style!' but not overly so, BUT what ALSO mattered in this scene is that, kit and dewey are very much Aware of each other and that they Like each other and don't want to admit it, so kit's clothing and how she wears it and how she looks are something dewey is specifically going to notice in his narration, compared to everyone else's POVs in the fic. so kit winds up with the most detailed outfit in the whole fic, and, good for her.

-mostly i did just want her in a cape, because i think capes are cool, like a floor-length cape to match the floor-length dress, and she has tattoos because of lyeekha's tattooed kit. i think "wide diamond of skin" is my favorite part in this paragraph. sometimes.......you still manage to make some chef's kiss clothing descriptions. describing patches of skin around clothing is, peak.

-kit's wearing gloves because the girl's gotta wear gloves. symbolic representation of trying to keep her hands clean/blood on her hands, ya know, as one does. mostly, though, it was because the cigarette smoke had to cling to her too, and that worked the easiest if she was wearing gloves. but i had my heart set on long sleeves, too!!! and so they are short gloves. they ruffle around the hem. (i think kit also hits hard enough that she could still leave a mark while wearing gloves, too.)

-i know i keep saying LITERALLY EVERYWHERE that kit and dewey's scene was the one that worried me the most, but it really, really did, because the way kit interacts with dewey is just so different than the way she interacts with her brothers, or her friends, or with olaf. they don't have anything to prove to each other, or want to tease each other, or commiserate about siblings, there is a contentment and a peace and a comfort the two of them find in each other (because!! again!! they hear each other!! both of them are very lonely information hunters and can come together and be heard!!!! acknowledged!!!) that was just so strange to write kit in, when she is otherwise focusing so hard on being so outwardly collected and loyal and almost severe, and with such strong kit takes out there, in the fandom, that scene stressed me out a lot, and i thought no one would like it at all. but i really need to let it go because everyone has liked it a lot, and that's, made me very happy.

#lulu talks about the sad lemon man

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pokemontrashfics · 4 years

Note

can we please get some hcs how the gym leaders are with kids?

Milo:

Amazing with children

He’s very patient and willing to put up with constant questions about the world ‘why is the sky blue?’ ‘why are wooloo so fluffy?’ etc.

He’s also really good at getting really little kids to take their naps. He has a very soothing voice.

With older kids, he’s good at knowing how much space to give them without giving too much. That can be a very fine line with older kids and young teenagers, but he’s good at knowing where it is.

Nessa:

She’s alright with kids, she prefers to take care of younger kids though.

Younger kids will stop crying if you kiss them on the forehead and give them a cookie

But that’s not going to help much with a 13 year old who just went through their first breakup and feels like their whole world is falling apart.

It’s also not going to help with the 17 year old who is crying into a pile of scholarship applications.

So she can cope better with caring for younger children, and has a hard time looking after older kids.

Kabu:

Kind of the opposite of Nessa.

Younger kids stress him out. With babies for example, he doesn’t like diapers, and he doesn’t know how to bottle feed.

And elementary school aged kids, he’s a little better, but he has a hard time connecting with them and understanding what they’re saying.

Kids have a way of saying so many words with so little content behind them, and that confuses Kabu a lot.

He does better with older kids though, he can help with their homework and gives them some old man advice. He knows they won’t listen to his old man advice but he gives it anyway.

Bea:

Bea is about 16 or 17?

But she does get along well with younger kids

She’s young enough that elementary and middle school are still fresh in her mind so she can connect with them in a way adults sometimes can’t

Little kids, like ages 5 and under, are some of the only people who get to see her smile often

Part of that is because she doesn’t want to scare them, the other part is because they’re so cute!

Allister:

He’s still a kid himself, he’s maybe 13 or so?

So he’s right in the middle of his Middle School Angst Time (™)

He does get along pretty well with most kids. As long as they’re not incessantly trying to get his mask off

Quiet, introverted kids like him because he doesn’t mind a comfortable silence.

Wild, extroverted kids like him because sometimes he’ll join in on their wild adventures.

He and his pokemon are good at making sure no one goes to the hospital. Gengar is a surprisingly good cushion for someone who is falling from a tree.

Opal:

GRANDMA!

She loves kids, and kids love her.

All ages too, she gives old lady advice to the older ones, and talks them through their Sad Adolescent Problems (™)

The younger ones love her because she gives them those grandma candies and bakes them cookies

Younger kids also like her because she has a really big house that’s really really old. So it’s good for exploring.

Gordie:

He’s not great with kids tbh

The younger ones take up so much time and energy to take care of, it’s exhausting.

The older ones are a little easier because they take up less time, but are still not easy because their brains are still not fully developed. They make risky, poorly thought out choices and often refuse to listen.

It makes Gordie feel bad for his mom having to put up with all his shit as a kid.

If things really go wild, he might call his mom and ask for some help,

Let’s assume he’s babysitting for someone this is the kind of call Melony would get “Ma, I don’t know what to do, the six year old is on top of the fridge, the eleven year old somehow got their hands on a box of hair dye, and the sixteen year old escaped I don’t know where they went!”

Melony:

An experienced mother, she’s seen it all from infant to young adult

Starting with an infant, she can change a diaper half asleep. She still knows what each baby cry means (apparently, different cries mean ‘i’m hungry’ or ‘change me’ etc.)

With elementary school aged children, she’s excellent at communicating with them. She’s good at understanding what they’re saying, and she’s usually (though not always) able to calm them down when they get upset.

With teenagers, it kind of depends. She understands that teenagers are in the process of becoming adults, and she’s good at giving them the space they need to do that.

But, at the same time, she’s still in ‘mom mode’ which some teenagers react badly to.

Like, she won’t let them stay out past 9 on a school night, or she’ll make them put on a jacket when it’s too cold. Some kids don’t react well to that, some do, so it depends on the individual.

Piers:

Another person with experience. He pretty much raised Marnie.

He learned how to care for babies out of necessity, but he was only seven when Marnie was born so he had a lot of help from team Yell.

As an adult, he could manage to care for a baby, but he would be very scared and anxious the whole time.

He’s good at taking care of elementary school aged children. He’s patient when helping with homework and asking questions. He’s also good at supervising kids when they’re playing, he knows when to step in and stop them from doing something.

He’s good with older kids too, he’s good at talking them through their problems and he can help them with some of their homework - don’t ask him for help with math -

If it’s an older older kid (like going off to college) he’s good at bullshitting his way through essays so he’s very willing to proof read any application essays.

Raihan:

When it comes to babies, he’s at a complete loss. The infant is screaming in his arms while he frantically googles ‘how to change a diaper’ and tries to calm the baby down.

It a fucking nightmare and Leon thinks it’s hilarious especially since he helped take care of Hop when he was a baby.

With elementary school aged kids, he has a little bit of an easier time. He has plenty of energy, so he loves to run around with them. He’ll do things like look under rocks for bug pokemon and climb trees with them, he’s a good babysitter for the younger kids he can tire them out.

When it comes to teenagers, he’s okay at it. He’s young enough to remember all the experiences he had as a teenager, so he’s able to connect with them and build rapport.

#swsh #pokemon swsh #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #sword and shield #pokemon imagines #swsh imagines #imagines #pokemon milo #pokemon nessa #pokemon kabu #pokemon bea #pokemon allister #pokemon opal #pokemon gordie #pokemon melony #pokemon peirs #pokemon raihan #Anonymous

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bestworstcase · 4 years

Note

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show.

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever.

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that.

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down:

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor.

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty.

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back.

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put.

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time.

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest.

he stays calm.

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him.

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics.

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves.

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now.

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points:

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger.

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm.

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not.

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them.

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself.

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening.

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment.

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own.

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show.

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

#thank u for your input anon <3 #Anonymous

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hms-chill · 4 years

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15? XD or 14 or 16 if you dont feel up for that. you know what i like but also feel free to do whatever you wish with them or not do them at all! -salt

Of course!

14. “You’re a disappointment.”

15. “Don’t die on me– Please.”

16. “I never meant to hurt you.”

For all his brains, all his education and study and general intellectualism, Henry can be a real dumbass. Going to a club on the anniversary of his dad’s death was a dumbass move. Going alone was a dumbass move. Calling Shaan when he was drunk off his ass was a dumbass move. Going to a meeting with Shaan hungover the next day instead of calling in sick was a dumbass move. Really, everything he’s done since leaving Alex in the States two days ago has been a dumbass move. Bea had thought that maybe being together on the anniversary of their dad’s death would help them all, let them process their grief or something, and he’d agreed to come a few days earlier than Alex was able to so that it could be just the four of them. And that was the dumbass move that started the dumbass snowball that’s left him here, alone in a country where everyone is disappointed in him.

It all comes to a head just after his meeting with Shaan, where he’d been uncomfortably hungover and even more uncomfortably aware that Shaan is not happy with him. He finds Philip in the kitchen, apparently packing a picnic basket for him and Martha to share in Kensington Gardens, and Philip says something about how Henry looks tired. Maybe, by itself, it wouldn’t have meant anything. But this is Philip, and it’s Philip on a shitty morning after a shitty day, and it’s just enough to make Henry snap.

He doesn’t say anything there. He tries to hold it all in, he does. He texts Alex that he misses him, and Alex texts that he’ll be there soon. It’s not soon enough. Henry needs to move, needs to get out of Kensington, and Buckingham, and the whole maze of rooms and people who just want to move him around and poke him and cover him in the mask of a perfect prince. Alex will make it better, but Alex isn’t going to be there until that night, so Henry needs to do something somewhere else until then. And he needs, so desperately, to do it alone.

There’s a trail not too far away from the city that his dad used to take them to. It’s private, and quiet, and it’ll let him do something his dad would have liked. Maybe, it’ll actually feel like he can grieve for once, instead of just trying to stay put together for his family and the press who had somehow decided it was alright to interview them for a story on how his family is “Healing from the Tragedy of Arthur Fox’s Death” on the anniversary of said tragedy. But, wherever he goes, he knows he has to go by himself. As much as he appreciates them, he can’t have PPOs breathing down his neck or following him. He can’t have Philip or Bea asking if he’s really doing alright, or his mom asking if he wants to talk. And, no matter what, he can’t have Shaan giving him that look again.

So he does what he always does when he wants to be on his own. He unearths a motorcycle helmet Shaan gave him years ago, takes Shaan’s backup keys from the rack in the garage, and borrows Shaan’s motorcycle. Between the full facial coverage of the helmet and the stark contrast to his public image, he figures he’s safe enough on a motorcycle, just another driver in a busy city. He can feel the wind on his hands, and around his body. The motorcycle hums under him, heat from its motor warming his legs through his pants. It’s nice. it’s nice to feel things like this, to feel the movement and the world around him as it rushes over his body.

He’s just getting out of the city when his phone rings through the helmet’s bluetooth. It’s Alex, so Henry answers, slowing down a bit so he can concentrate on talking to Alex like he’s not on a fear-induced motorcycle joyride through the country.

The first thing Alex asks is, “where are you?”

And, well. “Why?”

“After last night, I changed my flight so I could surprise you, I asked Bea to get you to the airport, but she says she hasn’t seen you all morning, and Shaan says he doesn’t know where you are, either.”

“I can meet you at the airport,” Henry says, wondering briefly who exactly told him about last night. He doesn’t remember everything, but he’s pretty sure he spent part of it sobbing outside of a London club until someone came and got him in a car. He’s not sure he wants Alex to know that. “Heathrow?”

“You still didn’t say where you are.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll meet you at Heathrow. When?”

“We’re starting descent, so probably about twenty minutes. I should get off the phone, but H? I... I love you, okay? Always will.”

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Henry turns the motorcycle around, pulling into the other lane in a move that’s not entirely legal, but the road is empty enough out here that it doesn’t matter. He’s about thirty minutes from Heathrow, which means he’s thirty minutes from Alex. There’s a private airstrip there that they use whenever they land; it’s where Alex will be. He speeds up a bit, a tiny smile making its way to his face when he thinks about how Alex will react to the motorcycle. He thinks about Alex’s arms around his waist holding on tightly as they drive, and he’s grateful that Shaan keeps an extra helmet in the seat. He’d wanted to be alone, but really, Alex doesn’t count. He can take Alex out to the trail, and maybe Alex can help convince him that he hasn’t ruined everything. It’ll be nice, to show Alex his dad’s trail and have Alex there with him.

He pulls up next to the plane just as they’re locking the stairs down, and he waits until Alex is getting out of the plane and looking curiously at him to pull the helmet off, shaking his hair out a bit and looking up to the top of the stairs, where Alex’s jaw is on the ground. He parks the motorcycle and climbs off to meet Alex at the bottom of the stairs, and Alex wraps him in a hug that feels just a bit tighter than necessary. Which means, for a day like today has been, it’s exactly as tight as it needs to be.

“I love you. I’m proud of you. I am very into you right now.”

“There’s an extra helmet in the seat,” Henry says. He adds an, “if you want” to the end, but Alex is already headed toward the motorcycle.

“Where did this come from?”

“It’s Shaan’s. He taught me how to ride a while back because they can get around cars if I needed to escape quickly.”

“I need to send that man a fruit basket,” Alex mutters, and Henry smiles. Moments later, the crushing realization that Shaan��s still mad at him, and will probably be more upset after this, crashes down on him. He pulls his helmet on so that Alex won’t see his face, but as he settles and gets Alex set behind him, Alex says, “we’re... I love you. Always, and no matter what.”

“I... I know. I love you, too.” Henry gets them going, instructing Alex to lean into turns, and Alex hugs him tightly. And, for all Henry’s stress and Alex’s weird energy about the day, the ride is fun. It feels like the wind pulls away anything he could ever worry about, and Alex actually laughs behind him.

“This is amazing. Where are we going?”

“Out to the country a bit. There’s a place we used to go with my dad.”

Alex just hums, leaning forward a bit. His helmet is in Henry’s periphery, and Henry hates asking him to move, but he has to. Alex doesn’t seem to mind, bouncing his helmet against Henry’s affectionately before he shifts position a bit.

There’s a bang a moment later, and a red hot pain blooms in Henry’s side, right where Alex’s shoulder used to be. The motorcycle swerves a bit as Alex tightens his grip instantly. Henry corrects and speeds up, a steady stream of swear words filling his helmet.

“Was that a gunshot? Did you see where-- shit!” Alex shouts. There was another shot, and Henry veers into the other lane. A car honks at him, but he pulls out of their way, the weaving maneuvers Shaan taught him coming back in bursts as he ignores the pain in his side.

“Are you hit?”

“No, you?” Alex asks, clinging tighter to Henry. His squeeze doesn’t exactly help the pain in Henry’s side, but it’s worth it to know he’s safe.

“I’m fine. Hang on.” So Alex does hang on, while Henry desperately tries to remember where the safe house is nearby and another gunshot rings out. Alex jumps, and Henry feels another burst of pain, this time higher than the last. So someone is, genuinely, trying to kill him. Somewhere, he tries to decide if that’s more or less interesting than if they were trying to kill Alex, or either of them. It probably doesn’t matter.

The safe house. They have to get to the safe house. Henry speeds up, and Alex says something about shots coming from a car, so Henry pulls into a narrow alley, speeding through and emerging into a street he recognizes, somewhere close to a suburban safe house. He breathes a quiet prayer of thanks to whoever might be looking out for them, and Alex must feel him relax, because his grip relaxes a bit, too.

“Did we lose them?” Henry asks.

“I think so. Where are we going? Where are we now; I can tell someone what happened.”

“It’s... we’re going to a safe house. We can deal with things there,” Henry says. His adrenaline has worn off in a moment, and now he just feels tired. It hurts to breathe. Alex’s hug hurts. He’s having to work to keep his eyes focused as they pull up to the safe house and he parks the motorcycle somewhere out of sight. Shaan is going to kill him, but then again, with how much his side hurts, maybe Shaan won’t have to.

“I’m going to share my location and then call Cash and let him know what happened; do you want to call Shaan and let him figure out what to do? We’re both safe, but they should still...” Alex’s voice reaches him though a layer of cotton, and Henry can’t seem to focus on it enough. When he looks at Alex, there’s blood on the sleeve of his jacket. That shouldn’t be there; Alex said he was alright. Henry reaches a shaking hand out for it, fighting through the pulling, stretching, tearing pain in his side to take the sleeve in his hand. His vision is swimming, but that just means that when he looks up, he gets to see four of Alex’s face.

“You... blood,” he says, truly putting his English language degree to good use.

“I’m fine; it...” Alex’s eyes go wide, and he swears, pulling Henry’s helmet off. Henry blinks up at him owlishly, trying to decide why Alex is suddenly so worried. It’s a bit hard when his face won’t stay still, but it doesn’t make sense. His side doesn’t even hurt anymore, or at least, it didn’t until Alex started trying to get him off the motorcycle. The shifting pulls at his side, and there’s a strangled cry of pain. A second later, he realizes it’s his own.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, we just need to get you inside so we can be safe. I’ll take care of everything, I promise, we just have to get you inside.”

Henry’s not sure why they have to get inside, but it matters to Alex, so he does his best to stay on his feet and get inside. The ground isn’t being particularly helpful, with all its swaying, but Alex’s arm is around him, and that feels nice. He leans against Alex, glad Alex is there with him. Alex is talking to someone, and Henry isn’t paying especially close attention until he hears Shaan’s name.

Shaan is going to hate him after this. He was already disappointed, but now Henry’s ignored everything he said. He’s been stupid, and he’s put himself and Alex in danger, and Shaan has every right to be disappointed.

Shaan deserved a better charge. He deserved someone like Philip, who might have a stick up his ass, but at least it’s a stick that kept him out of trouble. Or maybe even someone like Alex, someone who’s reckless sometimes, but at least he brings someone with him when he is. Or someone like Bea.

At the thought of Bea, a sob escapes his throat. She’s going to be upset with him, too. She was the one who got them all here, so she might blame herself, but that feels even worse than if she was just hurt by his idiocy.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Alex says, but his voice is shaking as he bends over, hunting in a flower pot. “You’re going to be okay. I promise. Just... just hang on; you’re going to be okay, I’ve just got to find the fucking--” he’s crying. Alex shouldn’t be crying; he said he wasn’t hurt.

“Are you okay?” Henry manages. It might just be whatever’s happening with his vision, but he could swear Alex’s hands are shaking.

“Yes. Yeah, I’m okay, baby. I’m just fine, just worried about you. But I don’t have to be, because Shaan’s getting help, and you’re... you’re going to be okay.”

“Shaan’s mad at me,” Henry says. “He... I called him last night but I was drunk. Then... then I saw him this morning, and he’s upset. I haven’t been fair to him. He... he deserved better than me.”

Alex has them inside, and he’s letting Henry slide down the wall and onto a nice, cool tiled floor. It feels good to finally have something stay still, and the coolness feels nice, and Henry lets his eyes start to drift closed.

“No. No, no, no, you can’t... Henry, stay with me, please. Don’t die on me-- please, I can’t... I came all this way to tell you I love you, and i’m proud of you, and you’re the best person I’ve ever known and you can’t... stay with me.” When Henry forces his eyes back open, Alex is really crying. Henry reaches a hand out to try and wipe one away, but it just leaves a red smear on Alex’s cheek. Alex takes it in both is hands anyway, holding it close.

“Wha’d’ya mean you came...” his words are all running together, jumbling up in his mouth, but Alex doesn’t seem to mind.

“I... you called me last night, too. You said you were sad, and that you wanted someone who wouldn't be mad if you had to cry. And I said I’d always love you, and I’d come as soon as I could so that I could show you just how much I adore you. So you... you’ve got to stay with me. Shaan doesn’t think you’re a disappointment, Henry, he loves you. And I do, too, so you’ve... you’ve got to stay here with us so we can prove it to you.”

“I’ll try,” Henry mumbles. His eyelids want so badly to close, but he can’t let them. Alex is too scared in front of him, but talking seems to make Alex less scared, so he says, “I miss my dad.”

“I know. I know you do, baby. I’m sorry I left you alone yesterday. Want to tell me about him? Will that help you stay awake?”

Henry tries. He tries to tell Alex about their hiking trips, or about summers when his dad was filming in the highlands or beach days growing up, but his words are even more jumbled than before, and he can’t seem to find the ones he wants. He’s just so tired. He does find three words that can fit together in a sentence, and he manages to murmur “I love you” before the darkness takes him.

From there it comes in fits and starts. He’s jostled awake when someone picks him up, and there’s a hand in his in the ambulance, another stroking his hair. More movement when they get to the hospital, and he thinks Bea might be crying somewhere. He wants to comfort her, but the inky blackness pulls him in before he can. He wakes again to raised voices, Alex shouting something about why no one cared about emotions. It sounds important, but he can’t be bothered to worry about it as sleep takes him again.

When he wakes up for real, Alex is there, asleep beside his bed. Shaan is at the door, keeping watch. Henry knows he must be a mess when just the sight of Shaan’s back makes him feel enough emotions to elicit a sob. Shaan turns instantly, and Henry ducks his head a bit, but Shaan is across the room in two steps, hugging him fiercely around the shoulders.

“I love you. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

That makes Henry really cry, his arms coming up automatically to wrap around Shaan, his hands grabbing fistfulls of his jacket. Shaan holds him close, apologizing over and over, but Henry shakes his head.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry. I... I’m sorry I stole your motorcycle, and I’m sorry I snuck out, and I’m sorry I called you, and that I was stupid last night, and--”

“Henry. Do not apologize to me for your grief. I should have noticed you were hurting and helped you. It’s my job to look after you, and I failed at that, and I’m sorry. Your boyfriend talked some sense into me, and I’m going to do better in the future. We all are.”

Alex stirs beside the bed, and Shaan steps back a bit to let him wake up and greet Henry, crying into a tight hug about Henry’s bravery and selfless idiocy, and how as hot as he was on the motorcycle if he ever does anything like that again, Alex is going to really kill him. But as he reassures Alex, Henry looks to Shaan and mouths a simple “thank you”.

Shaan gives him a smile, then rests a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, Henry. What you did was... reckless, and you should never do anything like it again, but I am proud of you. And nothing that you do could ever lessen my care for you.”

“I love you, too,” Henry tells him. “I love both of you so much. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Of course. We love you. And we’re proud,” Alex says, his voice muffled by Henry’s chest. Henry strokes his hair, and Shaan gives his shoulder a squeeze before going back to stand guard at the door, sending them a smile as he keeps them safe and Henry plays with Alex’s hair, making sure he feels safe, too.

On AO3

so uh... this got away from me? I'm hoping everything made sense; if it didn't please let me know!

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can buy me a ko-fi here!

#my fic: rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #rwrb #red white and royal blue #red white and royal blue fic

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

Short Girl Summer || Ariana & Nell

TIMING: During Midsommer Nightmare POTW PARTIES: @nelllraiser & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Freaking out over her newly found shoplifting hobby, Ariana runs to Nell to see if she can help get Otto out of her head.

With yet another backpack full of shoplifted items, Ariana was beginning to freak out a little bit. Between all the overwhelming things going on and now having someone in her head, she was about to have a full on meltdown. Whoever was in her head needed to get the fuck out. It dawned on her that Nell seemed to know a lot about different kinds of magic and would be her best bet for help. She shot her a quick text that she was coming by before running over. She was a bit winded as she greeted, “Nell, hey! Sorry to like come over out of the blue, but I’m freaking out a little bit here and I think if anyone would know what the fuck is going on with me, it’d be you.”

It was one of the rare moments Nell was actually inside the Vural house, not spending all that much time inside its walls even though Bea was back. The perimeter spell pinged on her wrist as someone crossed the property line, and thanks to Ariana’s message, she was able to meet the interloper on the porch of the house, raising a hand to wave to the other girl. “Hey!” she called out with a smile. But it quickly turned to vague confusion as she took in the girl’s appearance and state. “Have you been...running? Are you alright? There’s not anyone chasing you, right?” Had the last of Celeste’s parents come? Or perhaps Layla’s? Already, she was reaching for one of her hidden knives, hypervigilance making her be safe rather than sorry. “What’s going on with you?”

It didn’t dawn on Ariana just how alarming her appearance was until she saw the confused look on Nell’s face. She looked bad. She’d been running with a backpack filled with stolen goods and she was growing more antsy with the other person inside her head. “No, no,” she explained as her voice still sounded winded, “No one’s chasing me. I just--- I may have a lot of stolen shit in my backpack due to the current thief living inside my head.” She gasped in a few deep breaths. Why she sprinted instead of running a comfortable pace, she didn’t know, but everything seemed to be piling on in a way that made her doubt her own sanity. “I should back up with that. I’ve had someone else’s thoughts in my head and I guess they’re like a klepto or something. I thought maybe you’d know what kind of magic could cause that… and maybe make them get the fuck out of my head.”

The tension in Nell’s shoulders faded away as Ariana confirmed that she wasn’t being pursued, though it would take a moment longer for all the nerves that had gathered in her stomach to melt away entirely. It always took longer to rid herself of the alarm than it took for it to come on these days. Still...Nell’s confusion was palpable for a moment as Ariana explained. “Thief living in your head…” the witch echoed, trying to figure out why that sounded familiar. “Wait, have you been having dreams and stuff, too? Like weird ones? And sometimes you wake up from them with injuries?” Could this be what Morgan and Harsh had been talking about? Nell herself had experienced bits of it. Then as an afterthought- “...what did you steal?” she asked curiously, looking around at the backpack.

It became obvious that the stress was beginning to catch up to Ariana. She hadn’t meant to have such a freaked out reaction to stealing every shade of liquid lipstick she could get her paws on, but here she was, opening her backpack and showing Nell the assorted makeup and snacks currently residing in her backpack. She remembered from the one time she came over with Celeste and Ulfric that Nell loved Takis, so she handed her a bag. “Yep, definitely been having weird dreams. Apparently I’m not the only one. Are you having them, too,” she asked with a concerned look on her face. Her own panic quickly turned into worry for someone else. Though she did need to chill with the stealing. Werewolves and prison did not mix. Waking up bleeding was also not a good time either. “Yeah, thankfully startling awake before injuries can get too bad, but it’s freaky and I hate it.” She looked back up to Nell and asked, “Do you know what could cause something like this?”

Nell’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly at Ariana’s haul, not exactly being a do-gooder herself, but this seemed like quite the steal. “Oh wow that’s...a lot.” Her gut reaction was to ask whether or not Ariana was alright, but the answer to that question was obviously ‘not quite.’ But she cooed a please “Ohhhh,” as Ariana offered the Takis, not hesitating for a moment to rip them open and dig in. There was no quicker way to Nell’s heart than Takis, and it seemed like the witch’s familiar refused to be left out as the Ovinikk, also named Taki, appeared, immediately beginning to meow insistently for the food. “Thanks! Do you want some, Ari?” Nell nodded in response to Ariana’s questions, trying to be the calm in the situation. At this point, there was little that surprised Nell when it came to White Crest and its fuckery. “But yeah, I’ve been having some. And I’ve heard of a few other people having them. The fact that it’s affecting so many people would mean that it’d have to be a lot of witches casting the spell if it was that sort of magic. And even then, it would be tricky. I’m not sure exactly what’s causing it but...I don’t expect it to be anything good.” She led the werewolf towards the couch, not liking the way she’d seemed distressed only a few moments ago. “Here, come on- sit down. You’re probably tired after coming all the way here. Are you thirsty?”

Ariana knew this looked bad. Given it was bad, but she didn’t want to totally freak Nell out. She still felt like she was buzzing, but she tried to visibly calm herself at least. It wasn’t as if Nell hadn’t had a lot going on lately, too. It seemed like everyone did these days, but she held out some hope that maybe Nell would know how to at least get Otto out of her head. It would hardly fix all of her problems, but at least he wouldn’t be able to find out any more about her or even worse, about the mess she’d gotten herself into with Lydia and Ace. She smiled weakly as Nell took the Takis and Taki came to join. “Yeah, I’ll take a few,” she said as she grabbed a handful from the bag. They were pretty solid as far as snack food went. She followed Nell in and took a seat on the couch. Her head was still spinning though she let herself relax a little bit. “Right, I hate that. I think I preferred the murder mimes,” she huffed as she leaned back into the couch, “I doubt it’s good and having someone in my head on top of everything else going on is driving me a little crazy.” Then there was the fact she had to keep her thoughts on Lydia guarded. “A drink would be good,” she answered. Once Nell returned with a drink for her, she asked, “So, do you at least know who is in your head?”

Nell handed the drink to Ariana before settling on the couch next to her. Taki immediately jumped into her lap, rubbing his face against her hand in demand for some of the chips. He didn’t have to beg as Nell offered him one of the spicy tubes, and Taki chomped it down in a flash. Then she set the bag between her and Ariana, so that they might share. “You know...I never thought I’d say this, but I think I prefer murder mimes too. At least you can stab them and they die.” And they don’t know all your deepest, darkest secrets. “Is it ever good having someone else in your head?” But what else was driving Ariana crazy? Was it Celeste related things? “Are you...doing alright?” she tried her best to ask, realizing that maybe she should have checked in with Ariana more often. “But yeah, it’s some girl named Norma. She’s really weird, and tried to throw me under the bus in a dream witch trial. What about you? Do you know who you have? What do you know about them? Maybe if you need to, you can just leverage knowledge over them in return if it’s complicated.”

It was hard to not find the large cat enjoying Takis. Like witch, like cat? Was that a thing? While Ariana knew quite a few spellcasters, the whole world of magic was still a bit of a mystery to her. “It’s pretty cute that your kitty likes Takis, too,” she noted with a laugh. She sank further into the couch and longed for the days of murder mimes. At least Celeste had still been alive then, too. “Stab ‘em or eat ‘em-- both work. They taste like croissants and disappointment though. Mine turned into a freaking striped werewolf which-- rude.” Her head tilted a bit and she realized Nell made a good point. “True, it’s not ever good having someone else in there. Guess I just have things going on that require some degree of discretion.” She faltered a bit when Nell asked if she was alright. She’d never been a good liar and she supposed there was no need to lie to Nell. “Honestly, not really, but like I’m not in immediate danger or anything.” Ace was though. Her fight with Rio also still left her a bit reeling. “I think I have a way to make most things better, at least.” She vaguely remembered a Norma from Layla’s birthday party. “That is weird. A dream witch trial? That’s not fun. At this point, I don’t know, but they’re sketchy as fuck. Guess I can count on the fact we both probably have dirt on each other to not cause too much trouble.” She went over the thoughts that weren’t hers in her head. “Well-- definitely some sort of thief. They think about some chick named Nadia a lot. Apparently she looks hot on a motorbike. They’re a bit judgy-- apparently bell bottoms aren’t cool.” She looked to Nell still concerned. “Norma’s not giving you problems, right? I’d totally bite and fight someone a little for you.”

Nell looked fondly towards Taki as Ariana mentioned him, feeding him another little chip. “I taught him well,” she joked lightly. The bond between her and the familiar was as strong as ever, and Nell found herself grateful for the millionth time in her life that the black Ovinikk had chosen to come through for her during the summoning ritual on her fifteenth birthday. “He’s also an Ovinikk so- he tends to like spicy things, too.” As if affirming the words, a small burp tickled the front to Taki’s mouth, a lick of flame spouting forth via the bodily function along with a small puff of soot. “You ate your’s?” Nell confirmed with a smidgen of amusement. Maybe some would say it was a strange form of auto-cannibalism, but there was something strangely funny about the concept to the witch. Then she sobered once more, looking over Ariana carefully. “You’d let me know if you needed help...right?” She didn’t want to be overbearing when it came to Ariana’s problems, but she also didn’t want to find the young wolf impaled on a silver sword one day. The mention of her nightmare only caused her stomach to turn over once again as she remembered the pile of bodies she’d killed, the ones wearing the faces of her friends. “Yeah, not really fun. But I’m glad you have something to hold over his head if he decides to fuck off with some of your dirt.” As for Nadia. “Oh, I know her. Luce hangs out with her a decent amount. And no she hasn’t really given me problems she’s just sort of...strange. Thank you for your fierce offerings in these trying times, though,” Nell finished on a lighter note.

The little huff of a flame that came out of Taki’s mouth when he burped was too adorable and Ariana cooed over him. “Oh my god, I’ve never heard of an Ovinikk before, but I’m convinced he’s the cutest one.” It was easier to focus on an adorable versus pondering her own problems which seemed to be an endlessly growing list at the point. All of it just made her miss Celeste that much more. Somehow, she always knew what to do. Or at least, she had always made it seem that way. Even when they were both still kids, she always had this composure about her that made everything feel like it was going to be okay. Without that guiding force, she felt all the more lost. At least she could laugh a bit at how she handled her mime. “Well, like not totally. It tasted like stale croissants, but it tried to kill me so fight or flight kicked in and I turned into a wolf. It also turned into a striped, silent wolf. Kinda had to go for the throat to not get killed and all. Dipped when my friend’s mime turned into a fucking bear though because no thank you.” Part of her felt guilty when Nell asked if she would tell her if she needed help. She knew handling the Lydia thing on her own wasn’t the smart idea, but she did have it handled. At least, she thought she did. “I would, yeah. I think I have most things to the point where I can work them out, but if it gets to be too much or I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, I’ll let you know. Winston kind of made me assure the same thing, too.” She hoped Nell would have an answer for the whole shared brain thing, but it seemed White Crest was just being… well, White Crest. “Well, glad yours isn’t too much trouble. I don’t think mine will be seeing as we’ve worked together a bit in the past. Didn’t realize he was in the business of relieving people of things they don’t need, but you know, whatever.” She shrugged even though it still stressed her out. He was asking about Lydia aka the last thing she needed anyone knowing about.

Nell was pleased to see that Ariana seemed to have the same opinions as her when it came to Taki and his cuteness factor. Taki, meanwhile, had been uncertain about the werewolf before— but fickle and prideful beast that he was, he promptly rolled over and splayed his legs into the air in his cutest position, quite happy to be receiving the adoration he was certain he deserved. “You’re absolutely right,” Nell confirmed with her strong bias. “You should have downed some butter along with it,” she commented with a hint of humor. “Could have made it a whole snack. But fair enough to draw the line at wolf mimes.” But her light tone only went so far while she listened to Ariana’s insistence that she could handle it. Where had she heard something like that before? She thought hard for a long while before coming to the embarrassing conclusion that it had been from her own mouth, countless times throughout her life. “RIght- I’m not surprised Winston made you promise, too. They’re probably dealt with me enough to recognize another spicy salsa girl when they see one.” Then she carried on a little more seriously. “But seriously don’t hesitate to ask either of us if you need anything. And keep those glamours charged in case you need them.” As for the linked thoughts situation...Nell wished she could have provided something more helpful than a place to hide with stolen goods. “I’m sure it’ll all blow over. Everything always does in White Crest.” One way or another. “But obviously feel free to hang around until you think you can safely leave with a bag of stolen goods,” she teased lightly.

As Taki rolled over, Ariana found herself cooing and smiling over him. She loved when Luna would do the same pose, but she wasn’t sure how the not so little creature would feel about belly rubs. So she watched in adoration instead. She couldn’t help but laugh at the butter comment. “You know,” she said through giggles, “That actually would have made it better. Guess I’ll have to leave the mimes a Yelp review.” The mimes imitating her and wolves was still insulting. “Oh yeah, clear the hard line there. Werewolves aren’t supposed to be striped or silent.” It meant a lot that she found a community of her own. Maybe it wasn’t all wolves, but it was nice that Nell felt inclined to look out for her. The same went for Winston. She had plenty of support to get her through some of these crazy times, it was just hard to not feel entirely overwhelmed in this thick of things. “I appreciate the standing offer for help. With you, Winston, and the other wolves by my side, it’d take a really stupid person to mess with me.” She laughed slightly, “I guess just knows how us spicy short girls work. They’ve been very… I think great about covers it.” She glanced down at what used to be Celeste’s glamour on her right hand. It’d been a bit since she’d charged her own. “I’ll have to do that when I get home. I haven’t tried it in a while, but not looking like me could always come in handy.” The thought to use it to spy on Lydia again popped into her head, but she knew that was a terrible idea. She was sure this support system she built up wouldn’t want her being needlessly reckless. She relaxed a bit into the couch taking a handful of Takis. “Thanks, Nell,” she responded, “I feel a lot better, but if you’re down for a movie or something, we could do something actually fun.” As Nell went through the channels picking something to watch, she felt at ease for the first time since her thoughts had been hacked.

#wickedswriting #nell #short girl summer

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Like The First Time || Bea and Winston

When: the day after Bea’s brought back Who: @beatrice-blaze & @danetobelieve Where: Bea’s hospital room. Summary: Winston and Bea finally talk about everything they should have talked about before Bea’s death. Warnings: death discussion is the worst of it I think

Slipping into Bea’s hospital room, Winston closed the door most of the way behind them, making sure that the nurse on duty was sidetracked by someone else. They glanced at Bea, and made the shh gesture, finger to their lips. They weren’t nervous. They could never be nervous around her. She’d always been a figure of comfort and safety and even when Winston had been a nervous, awkward teenager with a crush (not that they really felt any differently), Winston had still known that Bea had their back. It wasn’t that she didn’t now, but … after everything that had happened it felt as if an unspoken distance had developed between the two of them. “Hey, sorry, I know we’re meant to be resting but I just wanted to check in…” Shifting their position slightly, Winston bit their lip and adjusted their glasses. “How are you feeling?” they finally asked, swallowing before leaning forward carefully to listen. “How much do you remember?” They immediately regretted the question. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, I just, I can’t believe you’re back and we did it…” Did these hospital robes have to be so hot? Winston felt like they couldn’t breathe wearing them.

With her sisters off for tests or treatment, Bea had the feeling of crushing loneliness again. She didn’t know much about her time as a ghost, but she knew that it hadn’t been full of people. Isolation clawed at her throat and she considered ignoring the nurses instruction to stay put while they found someone to tend to her feet. She wanted to get up and run, leaving the empty room behind her. It was a blessing to see Winston slip into the room, tension from her shoulders began to melt away. “It’s okay, Winston,” She assured gently. “I’ve never been this tired.” She had been falling asleep on and off while her sisters were in the room, but it was impossible to rest with them away from her. She considered them for a long moment,“I don’t remember much as a ghost. The last solid memory I have from before is dying.” She shifted on her cot and patted the spot next to her. “Come here. You did it and I will never be able to thank you all enough. How are you after everything? I didn’t even know you could do magic, Winston… When did that happen?”

Swallowing, Winston realised in that moment that Bea had never seen them do magic before. They’d never discussed it. Honestly, they’d been trying to save the revelation that they could do magic for something truly spectacular. A secret part of them had wanted to impress her with everything that they could do. To show her that although they weren’t the magician that Bea was, they were at least learning. “I can only imagine,” Winston yawned as if on queue, “I still feel like I’m full of adrenaline but at the same time my bones feel like they’re encased in lead. How it must be for you I can’t imagine.” Slipping across the room, Winston sat gently next to Bea. She smelled amazing. Swallowing, Winston felt the heart flutter a little and quelled the nervous butterflies in their stomach. “You don’t have to thank me, I know that you’d have done the exact same for me if you thought that was what I wanted and when Nell and Luce told me …” a single tear rolled down their cheek and they hotly wiped it away, “it was the right thing to do.” They looked at her and swallowed. “Uh, just after the New Year, a hellhound attacked me and I guess it unlocked my magic, since then I’ve been learning a lot. I actually managed to help save the town before we could bring you back.” They tugged at the bandage they were wearing over their hand to hide the third eye. “Wanna see something kind of gross?”

At first, Bea hadn’t even made the connection that Winston was there for the ritual as a spellcaster. After seeing their rather spectacular stunt with fire breathing, she finally connected the dots. She wasn’t usually a person who touched Winston freely, but now she leaned her head against their shoulder. She needed to touch someone. She hadn’t been touched in so long, she knew that. “It being the right thing to do does not make it an easy thing to do,” She told them gently. “And I know more than anyone else the risks and moral sacrifice someone has to make to do that.” She stared at the bed Luce had been in, knowing that in the end the middle Vural had nearly lost her life for Bea. “Just casually saving the town and then me. You’ve been busy, huh?” She looked down at their hand,“I was decaying and covered in the actual blood of my enemy until an hour ago, I don’t mind kind of gross anymore.”

Bea’s head on their shoulder was nice. Really nice. Not in the way that it had been before. It didn’t send their heart racing and sweat beading on their forehead. For the first time, maybe ever, this felt like something a sister might do. Like the times Winston had crept into Jolyne’s room whenever they’d had a nightmare. “No, it wasn’t easy, and it’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I don’t regret it, but, I’ve never killed someone before.” Winston wasn’t sure that they had killed someone now. It didn’t matter though. Bea was here and they had no regrets. “I just, so much has happened in the last six months. None of my friends have gotten away from this town without being hurt by something in it and when you died. I couldn’t just sit there and not do something.” Their hand itched and they tentatively unwrapped the bandage to reveal the eye beneath it. There was a relief as the cold air came in contact with the eye and it blinked on their hand a few times as they wiggled their fingers to get the blood flowing in it once more. “Someone had to save the town, I didn’t really do much, that was Nell and Darwin, I just worked out how to fix it but they were the ones that did the actual ritual.” Winston wished they had been able to do more to help. “I got a third eye too.” They showed her their palm.

“You won’t have to kill someone again, at least not for me,” Bea hoped at least. Winston was someone she had never thought would be dragged into something as dark as this. Even knowing now that they’re a caster didn’t make her feel better about their involvement. Being so new to the spellcaster community, this was not an easy transition into the lifestyle. “White Crest has certainly has ramped up recently.” Her life had been so simple in December. She didn’t know who that woman was anymore. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore. Morgan had said that she had to let it sit, but the longer she sat, the longer the silence that filled her mind became insufferable. She had never felt like this before, never felt empty before. She could not even begin to make a plan to get back to where she was before this. She hummed softly,“Would they have been able to do the ritual if you hadn’t helped?” It was habit to attempt to lift those around her up, but the words felt hollow and wrong in her mouth now. She stared down at Winston’s palm, resisting the urge to reach out and poke it. “Does it see?”

“Fingers crossed,” Winston was only partially joking. This was White Crest after all. Apparently cultists, necromancy and demons were lurking in the darker corners of the town. Which apparently suited Winston just fine. A thought that they were still trying to come to terms with. What they really didn’t get was how they could be so okay with all of this? They’d killed someone and it didn’t bother them at all. “I’m glad that people who’ve known about the real White Crest are saying that, because for a while I thought this was just how you always lived your life. I’m pretty sure I’m already getting some gray hairs from the stress.” Winston smirked a little at that. They didn’t hate this. This new life. It wasn’t something they’d give up. It was just different. “No, they wouldn’t have been able to do the ritual at all I guess.” Winston hadn’t thought about it that way before nodding. “Yeah, for a while I had like visions, that was how I … well literally saw the ritual, but after squidward was killed they stopped. I was the last person it switched too and it hasn’t gone anywhere since then so I think it might be here for good.”

“It’s always been dark and twisty here, but I hadn’t died before, so it’s been worse lately.” Somewhere in the back of Bea’s mind, she found that sentence hilarious. The day before she died she wouldn’t have even thought she would be saying this in the future. “You’d look good with gray hair,” She told them absentmindedly, finger playing with her hospital band. In five weeks she had missed the world nearly ending and her family fighting to keep it together. It filled her with both pride. They’ll be fine with me if it comes to it. The thought came to her before she could stop it, realizing she didn’t have to consider them without her now. She swallowed hard. “Does it bother you? It being there?” If Winston could live with a third eye, she could live with the scar circling her throat.

“That seems to be the understatement of the century,” Winston replied. They couldn’t believe everything that had happened. It was like they were living out the pages of their favourite fiction or something. Fantasy, Science Fiction and Horror had always held a special place for Winston. Somehow this made them all seem a little childish in this light. “Uh, thanks … you too?” Winston was still as awkward as ever apparently, but Bea complimenting you wasn’t something that Winston would just brush to the side. Even though they’d long ago accepted that she was never going to see them the way they saw her, it still mattered. “Yes and no, the eye itself physically being there is risky for anyone who doesn’t know about this stuff maybe finding out…” Winston ran a finger nail over the gap in the eyelid, absently pulling it apart and letting it slip back together with a plip. “But it actually being there I don’t hate and I think … god I think I should keep it because I think it’ll probably give me some sort of insight in the future, maybe. I don’t know.”

Bea stretched her neck slightly, before settling back down. She found her hand going up to hold her head, even though she was put back together. Everything about her felt wrong at the moment. She didn’t know if she would ever feel right again. She had to hope that she would or this all would have been so much trauma for a half result. She brushed off their awkward attempt to compliment her back. She was used to how they were with her at this point. “You can always see if there’s a glamour you can put over it. Then people won’t see it unless you want them to,” She told them, pressing her own finger against her palm. At least she didn’t have a random eye she had to hide. “Keep it then. No harm in keeping it for now and if you ever want it gone, I can help.” It was the least she could do after everything. She could do this for Winston, if they wanted it.

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston watched the eye on their hand winking back at them. Or was it blinking? They weren’t sure which would be which when there was only one of them. “That’s a good idea, I’ve never really done anything with glamorous before, do you know a good place to get one? Or how I could make one easily?” Winston would have to look into this in the Scribe library. The more information they could gather the better in their opinion. Nodding gently, Winston made eye contact with Bea and smiled. “Thanks for the offer, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the magic sooner, I didn’t really know how to tell anyone about it to be honest…” Winston laughed gently, “but I’m glad I could help bring you back.”

Sighing through her nose, Bea watched the eye critically for a moment. Nell was always the person she asked when it came to things like glamours, but this wasn’t the right time. “I’m sure I have a tome or two you can look at for information about them. I usually just assist when it comes to rituals like that.” She wondered now, if she would have to learn more about those types of magics. Her hand went to her neck, tracing the scar there. Did she want people to see that? She couldn’t tell if it was weak or not. She didn’t even know how it looked yet. She hadn’t had the courage to look at herself in the mirror. She met their eye for a second before glancing away, the emotions there too much to bear just then. “It’s okay. I understand. I barely tell people I’m a witch.” She swallowed,“Thank you, again, Winston. For helping me and being there for my sisters.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Winston chewed on their lip for a moment before nodding. “Sure, I get it, that’s probably a good idea. It’s something I wanna look into though, for sure.” Winston smiled gently. As Bea touched her own neck, Winston found their own hand tracing their scar for a second. Forcing it to fall away they sat their still for a moment. The toll of the resurrection had been intense, maybe one of the more difficult things Winston had ever done. Despite everything that had happened, Winston was pleased that everything was slowly getting back to normal. Sitting their silently, Winston honestly didn’t know what to say. “It’s weird, I can’t imagine not knowing this stuff but I did…” they trailed off and glanced down at her with a kind smile, “Bea, I mean this from the bottom of my heart, you and Luce and Nell might not have been born into my family, but you’re my family, you have been for a long time and you are now more then ever. If you ever need me again. I’ll be there no questions asked.”

Bea let the silence surround them for a moment. Winston was family. She knew this wholeheartedly, but she struggled to say it out loud. Those words would have made her grin before, eager to hear that someone felt so strongly about her and her family. No such warm feeling filled her. She hummed softly, knowing she would have to say something soon. God, what could she say. There would be nothing quite right in this setting, not when she felt the words bouncing around her hollow insides. “Thank you, Winston. You’re our family too. We’ll be there for you too.” She meant those words, but all the same they tasted wrong as she said them. They could never compare to what she would have said before this. She couldn’t compare to how she was before this. She hoped that those who brought her back weren’t disappointed by the change.

#p: bea #wickedswriting #like the first time #chatzy para #chatzy #para

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thedoveofgold · 5 years

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Speechless

We're surrounded by words, so why can't I find the right ones?

The library had always been a sanctuary for Tedros. The quiet hum of turning pages and tall walls of books were solace; protection from his drunk father and empty house.

Libraries were safe shelters he could always rely on, surrounded by stories he could get lost in. Books were his version of alcohol, they allowed him to forget and travel to a better place, to be a calm observer from the outside.

Today was no different. It had been a bad day for Arthur Pendragon, president of one of the largest businesses in the country, and Tedros had fled the house to the nearest library he could find. The Camelot County Library was normally his go-to place, but he remembered during his last visit Ms.Gremaline said it would be under repairs for an undetermined amount of time.

This triggered a memory of a conversation with Chaddick, who had mentioned something about a library not too far from his house.

"-and she's super hot, like rivaling Bea levels of hot. Told me she was at the Gavaldon Town Library most of the time, so maybe I could hook you guys up. She seemed interested."

Girls and dates were really the last thing Tedros wanted to worry about right now, but it was probably better to just play along.

"I see... What's her name again?"

"Uh... Sonna? No, that's not it... Sophia? Sophie! Her name's Sophie. And if you don't wanna tap that, just tell me and I will." Chaddick winked suggestively.

"I'll think about it." That was a lie. Tedros hadn't thought about the 'hottest chick I've seen in a long time' since then. But apparently she hung out at the Gavaldon Town Library...

Tedros thought to himself. I guess it's worth a shot. Besides, I've always had a thing for well-read girls.

He wasn't actually planning on getting a date. Not with the showstoppingly gorgeous Sophie or any other girl than fawned over him for his handsome face and rich father. He was going to this library to forget, to get lost in a world where other people had the problems. A plot twist in Tedros's own story was the last thing he expected.

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Where is this place for heaven's sake? In the middle of the fucking woods? Tedros had been driving for hours and still couldn't find the stupid library.

I swear, this is the last time I ever listen to anything Chaddick says. Grumbling under his breath, Tedros swerved quickly, turning left before he had to add crashing into a tree on his list of bad things that had happened today. He steered towards a break in the trees. It was a close fit, but he emerged out on a hill overlooking a small town circling a lake. If he squinted, he could make out a fading sign that read: Welcome to Gavaldon.

Sighing, Tedros carefully coasted down the hill that he was 99.99% was not safe to drive on.

At least I found the damn town.

Emerging into what he assumed was the town square, Tedros observed the simple and quaint buildings on either side of the street. A helpful pole of signs pointed out the direction of the library and soon Tedros found himself in front of the largest building he had seen in the town. It seemed out of place, this elegant three-story monster shadowing the neighboring shops and businesses.

I guess these people are serious about reading. Tedros was relieved, expecting a small library with hardly any options. After walking up the steps and through the large doors, his stress automatically began to melt off. The only noises were faint and familiar; the rows and rows of multicolored spines made Tedros think the drive may have been worth it after all.

Scanning the aisles, he didn’t notice the cart approaching, books precariously stacked on top of one each other. Stepping out of the aisle, Tedros’ eyes were still on the book with a cherry-red cover in his hands.

Slam!

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry!”

Tedros looked at the girl in front of him picking up the fallen books, dark hair shielding her face from view.

Irritated, Tedros chimed, “You should watch where you're going. You could have hurt someone. How hard is it to look straight in front of you?”

The girl raised her head, her cracked, thin lips pulled into a frown.

“Look, I’m sorry I ran into you, but that’s not an excuse to be a jerk.” She grabbed the last of the books and stood to her full height. Tedros was momentarily shocked; she was the same height or taller than him.

“After all, I couldn’t see in front of me because of all of these books. You could have said something or moved out of the way.” She stared directly at him, unfazed by his features. This was usually the point when girls realized what they were looking at and began to relentlessly apologize, flirt, or stare open-mouthed in amazement. However, this girl seemed to gravitate away from any of these options and turned into the aisle Tedros was just in.

“By the way, that book you have is really good. If you like that genre, I’d recommend these as well.” She quickly picked 4 other books in the same section and plopped them into Tedros’ arms. With a glance at the summaries, Tedros thought they all looked incredibly interesting. This girl was clearly familiar with literature if the faint smile she gave the shelves served as any indicator.

Tedros stood in place, bewildered, as she began pushing the cart in the same direction she had been heading previously.

“Wait!”

She turned around, eyebrows raised.

“What’s your name?”

The girl grinned and pointed at the nametag on her black top. Agatha, it read. It wasn’t a very common name, yet it fit her perfectly.

Just when she was about to turn around again, Tedros yelped, “Will you be here again?”

The grin spread even wider, and Agatha’s smile crinkled her eyes in a way that should not have made Tedros blush so hard. A burst of laughter escaped her beaming mouth.

“I work here. Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays if you were wondering.” With that, she spun into the aisle on her right, disappearing from sight.

Gripping his books tighter, Tedros asked himself why his heart was beating so fast and how he would ask his father for extra gas money.

#this is my... second oneshot?#I'm not good a writer but i wanted to try something out #Tagatha #tedros of camelot #Agatha of Woods Beyond #gavaldon #king arthur of camelot #i guess #chaddick of foxwood #The School for Good and Evil #sge #fanfiction #fanfic #i love constructive criticism #books and libraries #librarian au #kinda love at first sight #more like love at first smile

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ashleyswrittenwords · 5 years

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How To Be A Queen

Note: This is my debut LoZ fanfction! Yay! I really want to explore a deeper part of Zelda’s character, and eventually Link’s later on. I think it’s interesting to explore the mental and physical toll of what it is to have a planned fate. I just think it’s neat. Also hopefully a slow burn somewhere in there, well, a lot in there. Lots of ZeLink slow burn. Is it obvious I like those sorts of things? Anyway, please critique. It’s going to be very AUish because the games don’t exactly spit out Link’s personality, but it will be heavily based off of BOTW. Let me know what you think!

Summary: Princess Zelda is at a loss. Her handed royal responsibilities have begun to weigh heavily on her and she is eventually backed into a corner. Live a life she loathes or run away from everything she's ever known? Navigating life is hard, and Link forces her to learn that she doesn't have to do it alone.

Warning: Some mentions of body weight and general mental health.

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How To Be A Queen

“Princess?”

Goddesses spare me.

Please, what did I do to deserve this.

Just a few more sips and I’ll be done. That will be it.

Oh, Hylia, end this suffering soon.

“Princess?” Old Grog Guildford sounded concerned.

“Oh! Yes, Lord Guildford?” I replied attentively, trying with every once of my will to not sound adverse. Lord Guildford is a minister and a relatively good friend to Father. Don’t get me wrong, he’s well-meaning but Goddesses in heaven can he make awful bread pudding. I can’t even remember why I’m here to taste it.

“How is it?” He looked at me eagerly expecting. One look at the old man’s face and I realize why no one has been truthful to him. He’s like a little boy asking if his art is good, only the cold-hearted can say anything negative. But, wouldn’t it spare the other poor bastards that would fall victim to it if I spoke up? I cleared my throat, trying to find anywhere else to look at beside the brown puppy dog eyes of Old Lord Guildford. Alas, I couldn’t escape.

“It’s delicious!”

Hylia, forgive me for I am weak.

“Oh, joy! I must share it with the chef for the next festival! Your Father comes up with the most fantastic ideas, Princess.”

I smiled weakly and nodded. I watched as he talked his way into the kitchen. Something about the winter solstice festival. I stood slowly, afraid to upset my stomach anymore. The dining room was one of the largest in the castle, and here I was alone and possibly poisoned by bread pudding. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst fate. I grinned up at the large, stoic murals. Here I am laughing at my own jokes as I stare up at ancestors who were able to do so much more than I ever will. Somehow I feel at ease, it’s been a while since I was alone today.

“Princess Zelda!”

The irony of it almost hurts.

“There you are!” It’s one of the head maids. She looks relieved to see me. “You must come for a dress fitting for the solstice, Your Highness.”

A feel myself politely smile and my hands grip themselves behind my back. So close. “We should be on with it, yes?”

This has been amongst the many things that have conspired in the recent weeks. As Father grows older, he’s believes that more responsibility should fall onto me. Whether it be bread pudding taste testing or short discussions about land disputes, it has indeed begun to take a toll.

It’s been so hectic that I’ve barely been able to think. Learning who the ministers are, their wives, their political leanings has been one thing. I can deal with simple studying. An entirely different venture is the world of pandering.

Forget physical activity, trying to suck up to people is by far the most exhausting activity I have ever experienced in my life. Oh, Lord Hicks how impressive it is to learn how to differentiate milkwine by simply looking at it. Lord WhatsYourName, how is the mistress you’ve been having an affair with? And the kids?

Can you believe I was taught how to laugh properly a week ago? And here I thought I laughed just fine. Oh no, how wrong I was. Last week I was introduced to a woman who told me I sounded like an old rat stuck in drain pipe. I still haven’t recovered from it.

A middle-aged blonde woman pulled a measuring tape around my waist. I looked at myself in the mirror as she focused. It’s been a while since I was last measured. I stood there in my shift and stared. The old woman made a weird noise, “It’s been a couple months since I last measured you, girl.”

“I believe so, Mrs. Bea.”

“You’ve widened by a few centimeters, Highness. Tsk tsk,” she shook her head.

My cheeks lit up in embarrassment. Did she have to say that in front of two other maids? I didn’t really know what to say. Sorry? It was the bread pudding, I swear. I have a feeling if I told her the joke wouldn’t land well.

I looked at the mirror again as she took measurements elsewhere. It wasn’t like I was overweight, but I suppose my cheeks did fill out a little. It wasn’t awfully noticeable, but being the person that stares at themselves every other hour – it was more apparent now.

The day trudged on, and my thoughts moved elsewhere. To say that my head wasn’t with my body was an understatement. Too much was going too fast. Between the pudding and the Mrs. Bea incident, the day was already becoming bigger than I can take on. With the sun now descending, I was able to slip away from preparations to climb the staircase. My quarters were on the fourth floor and what a long journey it was. I started to reconsider if I should exercise more.

Once I made it to the hallway, I saw a man standing next to my door. He stared straight ahead as if studying the lines on the opposite wall. There was a law somewhere in the books that soldiers were not to make eye contact with royalty. One of the many questionable rules that leave me wondering “What’s the point?” Link always stood very straight. It’d been a couple years since he was promoted to my guard and the man had said a handful of sentences to me since then. There wasn’t a law about talking to royalty, so instead I suppose he doesn’t like talking. Or maybe just talking to me. It makes the relationship as awkward as you can expect. The castle walls aren’t as thick as you think and I’m positive he’s heard me ranting to imaginary no ones more than a few times.

I tried catching my breath before speaking, but the words came through breathless anyway.

“Um, Link,” I spoke.

Much to my disappointment, he didn’t answer. But the small shift in his step told me he was listening. As I looked up at him a thought occurred to me. We could easily have that forbidden Princess/Knight relationship. It’s not like I lock my quarters anyway, with having one of the top men in this society outside to protect me and all.

Oh, Hylia, I need some sleep.

Not without a light flush, I responded to his lack of, “Link, could you keep anyone from disturbing me? It’s been an awfully long day.”

Again, he didn’t move to say anything. So, I continued, “Tell them something along the lines of how I’m planning out my solstice speech.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. I’d at least think about it. And Link didn’t disagree, I assumed it sounded alright. He was dressed in the traditional royal guard uniform. It was plated in a type of metal and I wondered if it weighed down on him.

You know… there’s nothing wrong with a man in uniform. Or one without for that matter.

I told myself to shush and smiled a little, “I trust your day went well?”

Again, no response. Oh well, a girl can try. I walked past him and went for the door handle, “If another guard in your squadron comes by, you should tell him to cover your shift tonight. I know it’s not the most thrilling job.”

With that, I went into my quarters and shut the door behind me. I want to say we were close despite the lack of words, but we aren’t. I don’t know too much about him other than that he came from a small village in the southeast, my father trusts him, he talks to his peers often (those thinner-than-you-think castle walls), and that he’s a prodigy in his profession. He also tends to fidget with his holster sometimes when I have a one-sided conversation with him. It’s quite the resume.

I put down whatever journal I was holding for my manners courses and try to undo the outer layer of my dress. The laces have a tendency to tangle if I don’t focus. The dresser mirror only gives so much visibility.

So what I have eaten a little more than I usually do? I’m a little stressed, okay?

I frown at my inner dialogue and shift my thoughts away from Mrs. Bea. Finally, the laces come apart and I lift the mess of fabric over and away from my form. What is left is my white shift. I sigh and sit in a red cushioned chair. It’s in front of my desk filled with small trinkets. This is when I realize the fatigue in my legs and I almost slump over. I swear aloud at the relief and fumble through my things to find a small book.

Meanwhile I hear conversations outside. All I can make out is Link’s deeper tone and a lighter, more uplifted voice – probably Anju, a personal maid. I can’t help but smile a little, she’s probably just checking in, but I appreciate Link’s attentiveness. I don’t think I can handle another interaction now. I grasp the metal ink pen and wipe off dried ink from the tip with a loose garment. The lid of the ink pot always gets a little stuck. I flip through my diary to find a blank page and fill my lungs with a breath.

“Dear Diary,” I mouth, it does make me spell better if I do so. What follows is a recap of today’s events and general frustration. Much of how I hated that bread pudding, the fake laughter, fake smiles of the court, Mrs. Bea’s comments, and my inability to be able to connect to people on a personal level. The latter concern bothering me the most. Based on the books I’ve read and the interactions I’ve witnessed, every person I’ve talked to has been on business terms. The lords, the maids, and even Father at times.

I frown deeply as I spell out my thoughts in whispers, “One night many years ago, not long after Mother’s passing he told me after hours of drinking that my conception was for the state’s sake, and only for the state’s sake.” My throat closed, but I continued scratching the words into the paper.

“I’m starting to believe him.”

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theamberfang · 4 years

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NitW: Day 10 [part 4]

Preface

The last time I had a gameplay session, I ended things off after unfortunately beginning an “evening hang-out” with Gregg before I finished exploring the town. I only missed out on visiting Angus at the video store and hiking out past the abandoned Food Donkey, but you never know what new faces Mae might run into, and I just want to experience everything. At this point though, I’ve accepted that it’s highly likely that I’ll play through the game a bit more to go through other routes anyway, so it’s fine to miss out on a bit here and there.

Ride the Chariot

When I got back into the game, things started back up with Mae and Gregg hanging out in Gregg and Angus’s apartment. I’m thankful for that because—between being flustered at the time of playing it and being so delayed in getting around to writing about it—I didn’t remember too much from it.

The scene opens up with Mae and Gregg admiring their “son,” the animatronic rabbit that they had painstakingly brought back to life, sort of. Shortly after, one of the two—I think it was Gregg—suggests that they could go to Donut Wolf. Mae is excited by the prospect since she hasn’t been there since she got back home. Gregg informs Mae that they have pancakes now, which had me mistakenly thinking this was an establishment similar to Ihop or Denny’s, but it’s now obvious to me that this is a donut place more similar to Dunkin Donuts.

Gregg also informs Mae that they can get there since they can use Bea’s car, and Angus can drive them. Of course, they have to ask him first, so the camera pans out a bit, showing that Angus has been in the apartment while they were having this discussion. He doesn’t seem especially excited about getting donuts, but he agrees to it.

Mae and Gregg celebrate by shouting what appears to be Donut Wolf’s slogan: “Ride the chariot! Into Donut Hell! Awoooooo!” I was incredulous at first, because I have a tough time imagining “hell” making it into any sort of advertisement, let alone suggesting that it would be a good idea to go there, but I’m down with it. It at least gives me the impression that this is a relatively small establishment if they’re getting away with that. It also just sounds pretty metal, so I can see why Mae and Gregg seem to really dig the place.

Flat

After a scene transition, the three are on the way to Donut Wolf in Bea’s car, with Angus driving, Gregg riding shotgun, and Mae in the back. Gregg and Mae are apparently in a conversation about how many people they’ve ever kissed. Mae has kissed two people—or one and a half?—which Gregg says isn’t all that many, but Mae counters that he’s kissed even less. (Which means Angus is the only person that Gregg has ever kissed? Assuming that that’s a thing they do anyway.)

The whole time Angus has just been silently driving, so Gregg and Mae try to engage him with conversation, but he’s not very responsive. Even when, after trying to ask him about Donut Wolf’s new pancakes, Mae acts out a funny scene: “Calling Doctor Flap Jackson. You’re needed in my belly.”

Suddenly, the car lurches into the air with a loud noise. I figure that Angus may have run over something, and he brings them to a stop. Mae is upset by this since she really wanted to get to Donut Wolf, and Gregg suggests that they could push the car. Angus just has everyone get out of the car first, so they can actually see what happened and what they need to do.

It turns out that they got a flat tire; maybe it was from running over something or maybe it burst on its own—it’s not clear. From here I don’t recall the exact details: mostly just the emotional energy, which may be precisely what overshadowed the details.

The gist of things is that Angus becomes quite frustrated with this turn of events—well, actually, that’s not accurate. His silence from earlier makes it seem like these were emotions that were already bubbling up, but the stress of getting a flat tire is causing things to boil over. One specific thing I recall is that Angus says he’s tired of having to be the “responsible one.” He also sends a bunch of barbs (figuratively) in Mae’s direction, indicating that she’s a major factor behind his frustrations.

Mae decides to step away and have a look around. Initially she has her mind on trying to find a way to fix a flat tire, despite there just being rocks and twigs out here in the woods, but she shortly finds her mind wandering to owls and, I think, if she could train one. She catches herself doing it, and I can relate to that.

Coming back to the car, Mae actually finds that they have a spare tire and informs the couple. Angus is relieved and Mae asks if she can help, but Angus bluntly says that he doesn’t trust her to not just get in the way.

(I’d like to keep going, but I’m pretty tired now. I’ll try to pick things back up tomorrow when the friends finally make it to Donut Wolf.)

#nitw playthrough #nitw

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missnight0wl · 5 years

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Nobody believes Merula is powerful - not even Rakepick. Plus, my take on “the parallel theory”

I wasn’t really planning on making this post yet (and at first I wanted to do it only on Merula), but then I had a discussion with @wilhelminafujita where she mentioned “the parallel theory”. And since it’s kind of related, I decided to go with it. If you’re not familiar with the parallel theory, it’s basically about the similarities between MC’s group (MC, Bill, Merula) and Jacob’s (Jacob, Duncan, Olivia) – where Merula is supposed to mirror Duncan. However, before we dive deeper, let’s discuss Merula and what the heck I mean by this title.

Y5Ch10, when we finally visited Knockturn Alley for the first time, was quite interesting as a whole, but one small thing I find particularly intriguing are differences in Rakepick’s reaction, depending on who you took as your back-up. To be exact, I’m talking about this dialogue:

MC: What are you doing here?

Rakepick: Saving your life. Again. I couldn’t bear to lose my favourite apprentice.

… and then there’s a part which varies.

For Jae:

Not to mention, a promising Dark Artefact dealer in the making…

For Bill:

No offence, Mr Weasley. I have no doubt you’ll become a formidable Curse-Breaker.

For Merula:

No offence, Miss Snyde.

And honestly, I laughed out loud when I saw Merula’s. She’s so desperate for Rakepick’s approval, and Patricia didn’t even throw her a bone, like “Not to mention the most cunning Slytherin student”, or anything. But then it made me think, and I realised that Merula is hardly ever praised by our mentor in general, at least on-screen. Actually, I suppose that even Jae was more appreciated. He was praised after practising Hex-Deflection and in Knockturn Alley. It’s somehow impressive, considering how little he interacts with the current DADA professor. Meanwhile, Merula – whose practice is way longer – was directly complimented also two times, if I remember correctly. Once, when Rakepick explained her choice as one of the apprentices. Second, when we found Bea, and Patricia admitted that Merula did the right thing to inform her right away (and that we also should’ve thought about it). All right, but she IS the Curse-Breaker apprentice, isn’t she? So Rakepick has to see some potential in her, right? Well… yes and no.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that Patricia considers Merula as totally worthless. I just got a feeling she might see her as not talented enough to mentor her if circumstances were different. Why did she pick her to our group then? Well, she told us why. At our very first meeting, Patricia said that she has chosen “Miss Snyde for her ambition and strength”. Merula is too ambitious to stop searching for the Vaults, and she’s strong enough just to be a pain in the ass for MC – as she was in the previous years.

I know that the urgency of the current events is not very clear for us, players, due to content realising schedule and filler plotlines, but the assumption is that it is there. And Rakepick is probably a person who reminds us about it the most. She gets annoyed when we’re wasting time on Scabbers, on asking about her relationship with our brother, that we still don’t have the portrait. And she probably knows that in the past we were also wasting time on dealing with Merula. So, she decided that it’s better to include her into the team – she won’t be disturbing us that way, and maybe she could even help. And that’s the first reason. Rakepick gave away the second one when she told Merula in the same scene this:

You see, Patricia might be a bitch, but she doesn’t like to see children dying. It seems that she genuinely cares about teaching those kids how to defence, and not only MC’s friends. She’s engaged as a professor because of that, and that’s why students like her. So when she got such Merula who’s asking life for permanent injury all the time, she decided that it’s easier to keep an eye on her while having her closer. Therefore, when she told her:

… she wasn’t really lying. Even though Snyde probably thinks otherwise.

Merula is starting to realise that she and her mentor perhaps see the situation differently, and she doesn’t like it. She has more doubts about Rakepick, she doesn’t idolize her so much as she used to. She’s faster to put her under suspicion, and I believe she’s way more likely to accuse her than defend her recently.

Also, in Y5Ch20, there was an interesting scene before we approached Kettleburn to ask about his “142 cats” letter. He was talking to Merula who had that angry/upset/”I’m done with this” animation.

(screenshot from I-GGames YouTube channel)

Was she arguing with the professor? Was she trying to find out something about Rakepick from him? Either way, I don’t think it was put there without reason. I’m telling you, despite Patricia’s efforts to keep her in check, Merula is going to do some fuckery (again) by the end of this year.

With all above in mind, we can move to the comparison part. I won’t be talking much about MC and Jacob because I feel this one is pretty obvious. We’re hearing all the time how much we resemble our brother. Instead, I want to focus on two other members and their relationship with MC/Jacob. But let’s start with the basis: houses and personality.

First couple: Duncan-Merula. Both Slytherins. Ambitious, determined, with a mischievous streak. Everything checks.

Second couple: Olivia-Bill. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Not the same, although, Olivia was described as exceptionally brave (so Gryffindor characteristic), while Bill is a very intelligent and talented student (Ravenclaw characteristic). So technically it’s quite alike, and you could say it also checks.

However, this is pretty much where the similarities end, in my opinion. Because look…

Duncan and Jacob were friends from the very beginning. They apparently were spending a lot of time together, visiting Zonko’s and causing some mischiefs at Hogwarts. Maybe in later years, it was their way of dealing with the Vaults stress. From what Duncan said, they saw each other as equals, they were in that mess together.

MC and Merula’s relationship depends on the player’s choices/interpretation to some degree, but most of the time we’re in conflict. If we’re spending time together, it’s usually connected to the Vaults and rather goal-oriented. And if you ask me, there’s no way Merula would stop trying to dominate MC.

But you know what? While Bill and Duncan seem to be a very different people, the more I think about it, the more I can see of Jacob&Duncan in MC&Bill. We’re in a friendly relationship from the moment we met, we support each other. We can go to Bill with our problems which reflects J&D hanging out together. Sure, it’s not exactly identical, but it’s the same kind of energy, only directed in different activities. Moreover, @wilhelminafujita noticed one interesting thing in our previous discussion: Duncan wanted to be a Curse-Breaker. I still have doubts if it could mean that he was the first one to get interested in the Cursed Vaults, but it’s an idea worth exploring.

You see, Jacob wrote in his notebook: “I’ll move my research to that abandoned room on the fifth floor to avoid Filch, Snape, and R”. Not we’ll move, not our research. Therefore, I believe he was still alone at this point. But let’s assume that Jacob got interested in the Vaults out of curiosity, maybe even hunger for power, knowledge, or whatever. However, he wasn’t really into the whole curse-breaking per se. What if, when things got more serious, he decided to risk and reach out for help to his friend who’s passionate in this field? Just like MC reached out for help to Bill? I don’t know, suddenly Duncan and Bill don’t seem to be so different anymore, in my opinion.

(By the way, we all know that Bill is older than MC. Interestingly, Duncan could’ve been younger than Jacob. Notice that he told us: “I was friends with Jacob from the day I got sorted”. Not we got sorted. It might suggest that Jacob was indeed older and therefore already had his Sorting Ceremony in previous years.)

Now, let’s try to look at Olivia-Bill, and I’ll reference again something that @wilhelminafujita said about Olivia having a role of a mediator between Jacob and Duncan, similar as Bill was trying to ease the atmosphere at our meeting with Merula. And that there might’ve been a conflict between the boys after Olivia “met her fate”. The thing is… I don’t really see hints for any conflict occurring. Duncan is so angry at Jacob that he’d surely took the opportunity to mention how terrible our brother was even when he was alive. Meanwhile, he’s rather understanding, he doesn’t even blame Jacob for his death – only that he didn’t use it to expose R.

To be honest, I believe that if there was any kind of conflict in their group it was between Duncan and Olivia. It’s mainly guessing at this point, considering how little we know about Olivia, but Duncan still didn’t mention her even once. And when we talked with Grey Lady, she also said only about Olivia talking to Jacob, not “to them” or something like that. It could actually be another similarity between Duncan and Bill, who doesn’t really get along with Merula. And Jacob&Olivia might reflect MC&Merula. We can’t tell what was the relationship between J&O, but there’s a possibility it was somewhat friendly. Just like our relationship with Merula which might be more or less friendly, depending on the player’s choices.

And if we’re talking about Merula-Olivia already… As I said before, it’s hard to speculate about Olivia since we don’t even know what happened to her. But I have a theory that she got trapped in the next vault because she went after it out of order. And I assume they had to know about the order from R, which would mean that Olivia rebelled against R. Similar to Merula possibly rebelling now against Rakepick.

Another thing that is different between these two groups is their nature. Jacob’s group was probably formed by R, and its goal was to choose the winner (next member) while eliminating the rest. The kids were aware of that. MC’s group, on the other hand, was formed to support and help each other. Even if you want to believe that Rakepick is manipulating them to use them (she’s not), they’re working with a totally different image in mind.

I know I might be biased by my own theories, but I really tried to look at all of this objectively, and there are just too many things that don’t add up to me. While some aspects are indeed parallels, the others seem to be the exact opposite, and that’s why I’m not entirely sold out on the parallel theory. I’m also not really sure what I’m supposed to take from that. Should I make parallel predictions or on the contrary? It feels more like one of those metaphorical theories – you know, like Dumbledore, Snape, and Harry representing the Peverell brothers. It’s a very interesting observation, but does it really change the story? Does it explain anything? Not exactly, to be frank…

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #hphm jacob #merula snyde #bill weasley #patricia rakepick #madam rakepick #silvanus kettleburn #duncan ashe #olivia green #hphm r #cursed vaults #analysis post #parallel theory #theory #hphm theory

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