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mordoriscalling · 3 years

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48 Weeks (2/4)

(Part 1)

Throughout the 48 weeks that Geralt and Jaskier spend apart, their relationship develops.

Aka, part 3 of the Singer and the Sailor AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. The events of this story happen after Stay or Sail Away but before Homecoming. Warnigns: some sexual content ahead!

Weeks 13-24

Week 13

He waits for Jaskier’s call impatiently, praying in his mind that this is not the time they’ve got the timezones wrong. He doesn’t even have five minutes to spare right now.

Finally, after the eternity of two more minutes, there’s an incoming call from Jaskier. He picks up and immediately says, “A storm’s going to hit us soon.”

He hears Jaskier’s shaky sigh.

“Okay,” Jaskier’s replies, his voice tight, “please stay safe.”

Geralt nods. Nothing wrong happens to the crew on his watch. He made that mistake only once.

Week 14

“Another storm’s coming.”

“What? What the hell, are we some kind of star-crossed lovers –”

“Jaskier. I have to go.”

“Right.” The glint of fear turn’s Jaskier’s eyes into a colour almost as pale as ice. “Send me a text when it’s over.”

It’s one of the worst storms Geralt’s even been through but there’s no way in hell he’ll let the sea take him or anyone he’s responsible for. They all have people to return to. The thought of his family gets him through it. Jaskier’s among them too.

Week 15

“You write those songs fast.”

“What can I say?” Jaskier answers with a disarming grin, “You’re my muse.”

Geralt snorts at the ridiculous notion but he can’t fight a small smile tugging at his lips.

He listens to the recording the moment Jaskier hangs up. The song is about longing, Jaskier’s longing. His voice is high-pitched, raw and vulnerable, and Geralt finds he can’t breathe.

Week 16

When he tries to thank for the song, the “thank you” refuses to go through his throat. “Siren,” he says instead, “I miss you too.”

Jaskier smiles, a tiny, soft thing. His blue, blue eyes sparkle and somehow, Geralt feels seen.

Week 17

“Have I told you about that time me and Rozalia tried to teach chickens how to fly?”

“You what.”

Jaskier laughs. “Yeah. When we were little, we often spent the summer holidays with our grandma back in Poland. She kept chickens and well... I remember when I was maybe eight years old, me and Rozalia noticed that Amelia, who was little then, loved to watch how the chickens try to fly up in the air.”

“So, Roza suggested that we try to teach them how to fly, and I came up with the idea of creating a... chicken launcher.”

“A chicken launcher?” Geralt repeats.

“Yes,” Jaskier answers with a chuckle, “it was a really crude thing that me and Roza built out of some random planks and bricks we found in the shed. But it worked! It launched the chickens some six feet in the air. Amelia was delighted.”

“What the fuck, Jaskier.”

“I know, okay? We didn’t hurt the chickens, I swear! Though none of them wanted to be placed on the launcher for the second time, wonder why.”

Geralt laughs and laughs, and laughs, the sound coming deep from his chest and loosening the tension in his body. He keeps cackling hysterically – because fucking chicken launcher – and comes to realise that he doesn’t mind Jaskier’s ridiculousness at all.

Week 18

Geralt quickly picks up on the fact that something’s off about Jaskier, no matter how much Jaskier tries to hide it.

“Why are you sad?” he asks.

For a moment, Jaskier says nothing, but then replies, “Valdo called me yesterday.”

Geralt frowns, surprised. “Valdo Marx?”

Jaskier didn’t fail to mention how much of a “backstabbing motherfucker and talentless swine” Valdo Marx is.

“Yeah,” Jaskier confirms with a wry smile. “I know he’d call, we’re in the same city coincidentally.” He sighs heavily. “I knew he’d be drunk. He usually calls when he’s drunk.”

Geralt stays quiet and Jaskier goes on.

“When he calls me, he just... reopens this fucking wound, saying all those things. How he loves me still, how he’s never stopped loving me, how we should meet and try again... but then he’ll start petty drama on social media to gain publicity and call my music shit because that news sells, and I–” A sharp exhale. “I wish it was simple. I wish I could only hate him but... Well. The problem is, we were something else together.” Jaskier laughs bitterly. “And yet, fame tore us apart.”

There’s a pause. Geralt doesn’t speak again, trying to process all of he’s heard. Eventually, Jaskier breaks the silence again.

“And now I’m touring, and he’s touring too, and everyone thinks we’re rivals, and it’s just getting so old. I have better things to do.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say to that, so he only says what he knows from experience. “In the long run, it’s harder to hold on than to let go.”

“That’s –” Jaskier starts, then cuts himself off. He stares at Geralt through the screen with wide eyes. “That’s... true.”

Week 19

“Two songs?”

“I have no idea how I do that either. At this point, I’m convinced that I just can’t die. Sleep deprivation should’ve killed me long ago but here I am, alive and kicking.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. His worry comes off as anger but most of his emotions do. Jaskier doesn’t seem deterred. Geralt has a suspicion that he literally has no self-preservation instinct. Still, he tries to stare Jaskier into compliance. “Go to sleep.”

Jaskier obliges after some theatrical complaining.

When Geralt plays the recordings after going to bed, he’s surprised how different the songs are. The first one is an enticing call for sharing an adventure, luring him towards thoughts of what’s beyond the empty vastness of blue, towards what’s unknown to him. It’s all Jaskier, whereas the other song is not like Jaskier at all. It has none of Jaskier’s usual energy; it’s just a call for help, a cry of deep sadness that Geralt knows very well. He hates that Jaskier knows it too.

Week 20

Geralt listens to Jaskier strumming his guitar idly and no words come to him even though he knows he should say something. He sees that Jaskier needs it but his throat refuses to work. The wolf signet is a heavy weight in his pocket and he almost curses the day he let himself have this.

He was aware from the start that he shouldn’t have. After so many years at sea, he’s almost grown an allergic reaction to getting attached like this; he knows it hurts like bloody hell. He had no idea that he’d be called for this deployment back then though, and Jaskier was there, irrationally familiar and safe. His eyes sparkled in the light of the room during that birthday party, his elegant hand was warm underneath his own, and Geralt gave in. He regretted it mere minutes later and he almost regrets it now.

This would’ve been so much easier without Jaskier. Loneliness is what he knows and waiting for Jaskier isn’t easy like that, especially not when he isn’t doing enough to have Jaskier stay.

He tries to think of Ciri’s laugh to cheer himself up but in the end, it makes his chest ache even more.

Week 21

When Jaskier’s face shows up on the screen, his eyes and grin almost scream mischief.

“Hello, dear,” he purrs, “What a sight for sore eyes you are.”

Geralt knows that tone very well. His body responds to it with a thrill of anticipation before he can form a single thought. Then, Jaskier stretches his arms, “accidentally” lowering the camera of his phone to show his naked, hairy chest, and any thoughts fly out of Geralt’s mind.

“No shirt on?” he asks, his mouth dry.

“I don’t have anything on,” Jaskier answers in that raspy voice which drives Geralt mad.

“Show me.”

“With pleasure, darling.”

Week 22

“The audience was wonderful today,” Jaskier says dreamily.

Geralt rolls his eyes. “You always say that.”

He’s been saying that very often ever since he’s started touring in North America two months ago.

“That’s because you got to say that,” Jaskier replies, “I have to make my audience feel special. I mean it this time, though. There was magic in the air.”

Suddenly, a heavy feeling settles in Geralt’s gut and he can’t help wondering if Jaskier truly means the words he says.

Week 23

In the past week, the sea has been moody, there have been several small but bothersome damages to the ship, and Ciri’s caught a nasty cold. Generally, nothing’s going like it’s supposed to, and Geralt is tired. He sees that Jaskier’s noticed.

They’re quiet, only looking at each other through the screen. The silence between them seems impassable but then it’s broken by Jaskier’s quiet question.

“Why is your hair white?”

“I won’t tell you,” Geralt snaps, because the very idea of talking about it sets his teeth on edge. Jaskier flinches at his harsh reaction. Geralt tries to amend it by adding, “Not yet.”

It’s a promise which he isn’t sure he can keep but Jaskier accepts it with a slow nod.

“Will you tell me how come you joined the Navy, then?” Jaskier asks quietly. “In detail, please. When I asked before, you only said that you didn’t have anything better to do.”

“That’s how it happened.”

“Geralt.”

“Fine.”

And so, Geralt tells him. He was twenty-three and still hadn’t dealt with having been abandoned by his mother and dumped by Yennefer, who he thought to be the love of his life at the time. He hated it so much that he decided it was his turn to abandon, and he quit everything.

Their adoptive father never suggested for them to follow in his footsteps but at the time, the Navy seemed a career good as any. Geralt and his brothers, not related to him by blood but still his brothers even before Vesemir took them in, truly didn’t have any plans too. Nothing kept them on land.

Now as he looks at Jaskier listening to him carefully, he thinks it’s funny how things have changed.

Week 24

“We’re halfway through.”

Jaskier sounds tired and Geralt heaves a sigh. The room is light but it suddenly appears very dark. He’s almost forgotten home and missing his family has got less painful but there’re still days when it chokes him, like today.

“You don’t have to do this,” he tells Jaskier.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind.”

Geralt hears Jaskier release a shaky breath.

“Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” Geralt replies, looking at Jaskier finally, hoping to be seen, “I want this.”

Jaskier smiles softly. “Good,” he says, his voice warm, “because I want this too.”

Geralt wants to call him an idiot but it would sound far too fond.

The day ends with another storm.

Part 3

***

A/N: The story about the "chicken launcher" is what me and my younger brother did one day when we were kids. I think it's definitely something the horror sister Rozalia and the wild brother Julian would do to amuse their nasty angel baby sister Amelia.

#myfic #gerasker #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #the Sailor and the Singer AU

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jaehyeonsgf · 5 years

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hi!! Can u do jaehyun angst from prompt list no.10 & 27 🥺 Thank u very much 💚

10 : that was a lie and everyone knew it

27 : say it out loud

a/n : i hope you enjoy it! i really enjoyed writing this one! (also i’m writing this as i’m running late for my exam dhakjhekrhe)

[ view prompt list here ]

When your word fell apart, it did so silently and with ignorance.

It’s nothing like how movies portray them to be. There’s no loud wailing, there’s no desperate self-preservation and there’s no impending doom. Just silence, a few nods and the taste of iron in your mouth.

“Okay,” your voice falters and you cough, trying to steady your voice, not wanting any weaknesses reveal itself. You grip your thighs tighter, letting the pain of your nails digging into your flesh distract from the ache in your chest. “Let’s break up.”

On the train home, you see a boy typing something on his phone. You didn’t mean to look at his phone, but he was sitting beside you and it caught your attention. There’s a string of 0s and 1s dancing across his screen and you immediately recognised it as binary code. The ache in your heart tightens. It means nothing.

Back in your university days, Jaehyun would surprise you by littering random notes all around. From your textbooks, your dorm’s fridge to the bulletin board that hung in front of your bed. It’s his way of leaving small touches in your life, reminding you of him even when he’s not around you. Of course, he never writes it in languages that you understood. The sadistic string within him would write it in Greek, Chinese, Japanese even in Russian once. You’d spend the whole morning decoding it. Some days his message is short and sweet, decoded it would say ‘I love you’. Other days, his message is long-winded but still sweet.

But when you woke up to a string of 0s and 1s written on a post-it note, you thought that he had officially gone crazy.

You later learn that the random and seemingly arbitrary arrangement of 0s and 1s is called binary code. And out of all the languages he used, this became your favourite. It’s a language that both you, a business major, and Jaehyun, a literature major, could understand. A halfway point between your differences.

The next few weeks come and go in a blur. You bury yourself in work and more work. You barely have the time to breath. For a while, you’re stuck in a routine of work, coffee break, more work until it’s 2 in the morning and you remember that you’ll have to wake up at 7 the next morning so you try to go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Some nights are better than others. There are a handful of nights when your head hits the pillow and you drift into sleep immediately. But most nights are spent tossing and turning in your bed, that seems a little bigger and a little colder now. You’ll let the ticks of the clock lull you to sleep and in the rare events that you do manage to catch some rest, you’d jolt up an hour or two later, panting and crying.

You don’t even realise that your 26th birthday is coming up until the day before when you receive a text from Starbucks, wishing you a happy birthday with a free drink. Suddenly, you feel the loneliness overwhelm you and you let a tear spill out of one eye. The next comes and they just keep on falling out. For the first time in a while, you don’t touch your laptop for the night and just sit in the living room alone and crying.

Your daily routine of burying yourself in work and sleepless nights numbed you to the core. You detach yourself from everything, friends, family, emotions. Everything. Your phone lights up beside you and you see a text from Taeyong, your best friend. Then another from your mom. You stare at it for a little while longer. But when you don’t see Jaehyun’s name flash across, you feel a surge of pain through your body. You turn your phone over and rest your head against the cream leather of your sofa.

It’s 12 midnight. It’s the day of your birthday. It’s the first time you’ve spent your birthday alone in eight years – ever since Jaehyun came into your life – and you’re not sure what to do.

It becomes a tradition the third consecutive year you spend your birthday with Jaehyun. It starts with a ‘happy birthday!’ text from him at 12 midnight sharp. You’d always stay up to see it, even if it meant forcing yourself by pinching yourself. Then when you get ready to leave the house in the morning, you’d see the gifts on your doorstep. There are variations in them from year-to-year but for the most part, it remains the same. The flowers change every year, but it’s always there. The first year was, as cliché as it is, roses. The next was carnation. The year after was lilac. Then sunflower, jasmine, forget-me-not, white dittany and angelica. You remember every single one because Jaehyun is the only man to have given you flowers. And also because he’d tell you what each one mean and it’d overwhelms you with happiness you never thought were possible. Without fail, there’ll be a letter too. Jaehyun is a fan of poetry and would write the most beautiful literature for you. He even wrote Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 for you one year. In his letters, he doesn’t hold back on his compliments, praises and expression of love. Then there were miscellaneous gifts – they were the gifts of what you’ve once said you wanted or something that you were obsessed with at that time.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re gifted with sore neck and legs from the weird posture you slept in and stinging swollen eyes. The swelling doesn’t subside by the time you leave the house so you cover your eyebags with more concealer than usual. You open your door and, for some weird reason – perhaps habit -, you find yourself looking down at the doorstep. You’re greeted by a dead leave and you crush it on your way out.

After work, you find yourself heading to Taeyong’s house.

When you replied to his birthday wishes, he had invited you for a little catch up with a few other university friends. You had half a mind to reject him using the excuse of work because you don’t want the possibility of hearing about Jaehyun. After all, they were friends with Jaehyun too. But he sends you ‘jaehyun won’t be there. i swear. just come. i’ve missed you. we all have.’ when you don’t reply fast enough. You realise that Jaehyun probably told them what happened. He texts you another ‘pleeeease?’, you finally cave and promise to be there.

You forgot how long it has been since you’ve met up with them until you see that they are all rocking different hairstyles and hair colours since the last meet up. Taeyong’s red hair has been replaced by an ash-brown colour. Mark’s previously black hair changes subtly to a light shade of brown. Yuta’s hair has grown out and he has it in a man-bun.

“Do y’all just really like going to the salon or what?” You chuckle, taking off your shoes and following after Taeyong into the apartment.

The other 3 guys stand up from the couch and each takes turn to engulf you in a warm hug. You exchange pleasantries with all of them, answering the typical how have you been by lying through a smile when you tell them life’s good.

They catch you up on a few things in their lives. You learn that Yuta is now a model, Mark’s pursuing his masters in Literature and Taeyong and Ten have opened up a dance studio and are dance instructors. They learn that you’re working at a bigshot accounting firm.

They are careful to not bring up Jaehyun’s name through it all.

When the commotion settles, you find yourself sitting at the dining table with them.

“So, how’s life man?” Taeyong asks as you lift the mug to your lips. “You’re so busy nowadays.”

You just shrug. There’s no possible way of truthfully answering the question without breaking down of them and you refuse to break down in front friends that you haven’t seen in almost a year. Besides, you’d prefer to pretend the uglier sides of your life doesn’t exist.

“It’s been… okay,” you play with the rim of the mug, “Tiring I guess.” You give him a sheepish smile and pray that he’ll leave it at that.

But they don’t. “Even after the… um… breakup?”

Taeyong’s bluntness catches you off-guard and you freeze just for a second. You force yourself to not recall the afternoon when the break up happened five months ago. Or the eight years that you’ve spent with him.

Instead, you reply with a practiced answer. “It’s tough at first. You know, especially because we’ve been together for like, what, eight years? But I’m… I’m okay.”

That was a lie and everyone knew it. You see the glance that Mark gives Taeyong. The way Ten rakes a hand through his hair. The way Yuta shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m… really fine, you all don’t have to worry about me,” you assure.

There’s an awkward silence that hangs in the air and even you’re not sure what to do or say.

“No like really?” Mark finally breaks the silence. “Because from the looks of it, you look… terrible.”

You wonder what gave it away. Was it how your clothes hang looser on you? Or the way that, by this time of day, the concealer laid on your skin? Or was it the way you still played with your fourth finger, as if the promise ring was still there?

“We’re all ears and we won’t snitch,” Ten adds when you don’t reply. He reaches over and rests a hand on your wrist, “Tell us what’s going on.”

“…It’s just,” You take a deep breath. “I’ve been so… in love with him and I still am.” There’s a tension that is released from your chest from finally allowing yourself to admit it. You’ve missed him and you’re still in love with him. You didn’t realise the extent of these emotions because you’ve been in constant motion but now, they hit you full force and you’re sure that not even for a moment did you stop loving or missing Jaehyun. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad thing but you continue.

“And I thought- I really thought that, that we’d get married, you know. I thought he was the one. I don’t know where it went wrong or what I did wrong.”

When Jaehyun left, it felt like half of you left with him. There’s not even a Jaehyun-shaped hole in your heart. No, the moment you stood up and left the café, half of you was left in it. The downfall of your relationship lasted a whole year. It took a whole year before Jaehyun plucked up the courage to break things off with you.

It started with a promise.

It was a quiet Sunday morning. The both of you were awake but none of you wanted to leave the warmth of your bed. He had sat up, back against the headboard and had one hand holding a book whilst the other played with your hair.

Then he reached into the nightstand’s drawer and pulled out a small transparent pouch holding two silver bands.

“What’s this? Are you proposing to me?” You chuckled, eyes meeting with his.

He was always a romantic and you wouldn’t be surprised.

“No,” his voice still thick with sleep, “but I want this to… to represent my promise to you.”

“What promise?”

“That you’re mine. And I’m yours. Forever.”

You laughed. “That sounds exactly like a proposal, you know that right?”

His cheeks flushed pink.

It’s times like this that you’re reminded of how simple-minded Jaehyun was. He wasn’t the type to think too much. Rather, he acted irrationally at times, doing things because he wanted to. You take the pouch out of his hand and take one ring out. It’s a simple metal band, nothing extravagant. On the inner ring, it had his name branded on to it. The other ring had yours.

“I-I got it from the gift shop on the way home,” he said.

He saw your soft gaze on the ring and knew that you’d love it. It made his chest swell with pride.

“What do you think of it?” he took the ring out of your hand and slip it on your fourth finger. He took your hand and kissed the spot above the ring.

“I love it!”

Mark gives you a sad smile. “You know, he’s… well, he’s himself, he’s Jaehyun. There’s a logic there than none of us can begin to understand. Don’t torture yourself by thinking too much.”

But I’ve knew him the best. Your heart boasts. You thought that if anyone were to understand anything Jaehyun does, it’d be you. But then he goes and do this kind of shit that causes you to doubt your position in his heart. Not that you have one anymore.

“Have you spoken to him since?” Yuta asks.

“Well, no,” you take a deep breath, “But I mean… He wouldn’t want me to remain in his life after all of our history and-“Another deep breath. “It’s better than way, no?”

They exchange a glance.

“Has he at least given you a reason?”

You look at Mark and shake your head. Even if he had, you didn’t hear it. The shock had overwhelmed you to the point that your ears were ringing.

“Then it’s only fair if he did, right? He’s not one to not understand that,” Mark says with a comforting smile.

The rest of the night carried a less serious tone to it. You talk. They listen. They talk. You listen. You watch a horror movie with them – a sort of tradition started since you befriended them in university. You laugh at how jumpy they are. When Mark starts yelling from the toilet saying that he swears he saw something in the mirror after the movie, the rest of you spend the reminder of the night clowning him.

That night, as you lay your head against your pillow, you smile – one that is out of genuine happiness. You’re grateful for friends like them, who are there regardless of circumstances. Hanging out with them brought endless amounts of joy into your heart. And you feel your heart beginning to mend back together until your phone lights up from a text.

You turn to your phone and the message completely shatters your heart. The few hours of work that your friends did completely undone in a second.

‘happy birthday, i hope you’ve enjoyed yourself today.’

It’s from Jaehyun. You realised you still haven’t changed his contact name from ‘my future hubby’ to something else. The text is the first text that you’ve received from him since the day in the café. Your finger hovers above the screen as you think of a suitable reply. But you’re unable, so you flip your phone over and turn away from your phone. You drift to sleep with a single thought in your mind.

He still remembers my birthday. Maybe he’s still in love with me.

The thought stays with you when you wake up in the morning. Maybe he misses me. Maybe he wants me back. Maybe he didn’t mean his words. Maybes will be how you meet your demise. The way five months’ worth of supressed emotions hit you like a wave and doesn’t stop there. It swells and hits you harder with each maybe.

You’re barely able to keep up at work, without letting your thought stray to him and you wonder how you were able to do it just a day ago. You think back on Mark’s words and decide that you’re ready. You’re ready to meet him. You’re ready to get closure.

When you lay eyes on Jaehyun, the first time in five months, your heart swells and your prepared speeches fly out of the window because you’re rendered speechless. The dim café lights don’t hide his dashing good looks and you see his familiar double-lidded eyes. They’re tired and you wish that maybe, just maybe, it’s because he’s been missing you too.

“Hello,” you say settling into the seat in front of him

“Hey,” he gives you a small polite smile, “You wanted to talk?”

You nod. “Uh, yeah. I just- Um. How are you?” Your words are awkwardly strung together because you’re nervous, so goddamn nervous.

“Seriously?” he chuckles, lifting a cup to his lips. You glance at it and guessed that it’s black coffee. Plain, black, just how it likes it. “Well, I’m doing, as well as a person who’s just lost their first love can do.”

His words are dripping in sadness and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. It catches your eyes.

“What about you?”

You don’t know if you should answer honestly. Would it come off as too attention seeking?

“I’m- I’m not doing too well. Have been getting night terrors.”

“Again?”

You smile sadly. You don’t say that this time, it’s because of him.

You remember how when your father first passes away in university and you started getting night terrors, it’s Jaehyun’s warm arms that calmed you down. His thumb gazed your cheeks, wiping away your tears and he whispers softly It’s okay and I’m here now.

“So I guess that’s why you look so… tired.” He reaches across the table with his thumb. It gazes your cheek and his familiar touch causes you to flinch.

“I’m sorry, habits.” He retreats his hand.

“It’s okay. Anyways, I haven’t been doing too well because-“ the words are stuck in your throat and you don’t want to admit them. You take a deep breath. Jaehyun waits. He’s patient.

“Because I can’t get our breakup out of my head.” You admit to both yourself and him.

The tears that you’ve swallowed for the past few months wells up in your eyes and it spills, continuously. Between choked sobs and sniffling, you tell him that you’ve missed him.

He reaches over and this time you don’t flinch. You let him wipe the tears away.

“Tell me how to make it better. Say it out loud.” He says.

“Please, don’t leave me alone.” You tell him and you speak from your heart.

He goes over to your seat and hugs you. He mumbles soft apologies and even let a few tears drop. When you’ve stop crying and he’s walking you back home, he surprises you by telling you why he broke up with you and it isn’t because he fell out of love with you. Rather, he simply thought that you deserved better than him. He tells you how he misses you, how he craves for your attention. There’re nights when in a drunk fervour, he almost calls you.

That night, the both of you just talk. Work through the relationship – his insecurities and your dependence on him. But you don’t get back together. At least not immediately. It’s too soon.

But the both of you aren’t in any rush, so you take your time with the relationship, cherishing each step of the way with him.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #jung jaehyun #angst #mine #babe #requested

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chlostertalks · 4 years

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Westworld Timeline (My Best Guess) – Post-Season 3 Finale

Updated May 4th, 2020 (after S3E8)

“If this is still now, and if we are indeed still here.” -Solomon, S3E7

The show creators want us to experience the world the way the hosts learn about their world and the world, which is why the timeline is so confusing. I've hammered it down as best I can, even with Season 2 causing brain damage a second time.

The year 2052 threw me off so much after S3E7, because Charlotte said that she infiltrated Delos "for the last few weeks" rather than what I thought was the last few years. I thought Dolores and Caleb were the only ones in 2058, but it turns out that all the characters were in the same year, so Seasons 1 and 2 occurred the year before rather than six years before. I had to reconstruct my timeline into what it is now below.

Rather than fitting Season 3 into the collective understanding of the timeline of Seasons 1 and 2, I had to structure Seasons 1 and 2 around the timeline of Season 3.

TL;DR:

The season 2 post-credit is finally explained

Caleb was born the same year as the Westworld massacre (and ironically on Groundhog Day)

The 2052 security footage of Maeve may be an off-camera event that parallels her exploring the Mesa in Season 1 (because nothing else makes sense with this arbitrary date)

A Refresher:

Season 1 sets up Westworld and the Reveries update (part of Ford's grand plan to do what Arnold tried doing a long time ago). The hosts are free…under Ford's control. They're merely slaves to a loop and the guests that hurt them.

Season 2 sets up the Arnold Project and the Delos Project, and that below the Valley Beyond is a room full of servers containing the Forge (all the park data) and the Sublime (a safe haven simulation for hosts). The season itself also shows other Delos Destination parks. Explores the idea that the next phase in human evolution is humanoid robots (hosts). Humans enslave hosts, only to want to be like hosts and achieve immortality.

Season 3 branches outside all the Delos Destination parks, showing that the very guests that visited the park were also part of a global loop controlled by Rehoboam. Explores the idea that hosts are controlled by humans, who are controlled by AI.

In the Previous Years….

Arnold's son, Charlie, dies.

Arnold wrote half of Westworld's code in 2017. (S1E7)

In S1E3, Ford explains that he, Arnold, and a team of engineers begin living on the park grounds to build the hosts. It was a three-year creation process before the park ever opened, so creation began in 2020.

All the interrogation sessions are of Arnold and Dolores; they begin here. All the times when hosts freeze all motor functions are with Arnold.

"You should get back, Dolores, before someone misses you."

Arnold gives Dolores a maze to follow so she can find herself. She will follow the maze three times in her lifetime in the park: once here, once with William, and once before the attack at the end of season 1.

2023 (34 Years before 2057/Season 1):

After achieving consciousness via the maze for the first time, Dolores kills all the hosts, Arnold, and herself to stop the opening of Westworld (S1E10). The park will open anyway, but Arnold almost achieved shutting down the place.

Meanwhile, Caleb is born February 2nd (Groundhog Day). We know this from S3E7, just above his left middle finger:

In the Years in Between:

Akecheta, chief of the Ghost Nation, was on a different loop. He was peaceful, and had a wife. He discovers the massacre and the maze but before he knew the voice inside his head, his narrative was changed, and the Ghost Nation was born.

The Arnold Project (before the Delos Project)

Any time there are black bars above and below the footage, the audience is watching a simulation.

Because it's impossible to have complete fidelity remain outside the Forge simulation and in the real world (as William will soon find out throughout the Delos Project), she allows him to have behaviors unlike Arnold to be separate from Arnold and function.

Thus, Dolores and Ford create Bernard Lowe for the real world. This is how he is part host and part human.

Dolores is wiped and reset after creating Bernard.

Logan Delos sees the prototypes for Westworld; park needs funding

Husbandry robotics

Riot robots (used in the Season 3 finale)

George (site survey and construction)

Delos Destinations (Westworld and five other parks)

2025:

A thermonuclear incident occurs in Paris October 9th. (we know this from the Westworld Season 3 date announcement)

Engerraund Serac and his brother Jean Michel (Jean-Mi) watch as their loved ones and city are gone in an instant. This moment inspires the brothers’ creation of Solomon and, later, Rehoboam.

2027 (30 Years before 2057/Season 1):

Dolores meets William during her first quest to find the center of the maze a second time; William’s experience leads to his funding Westworld and saving them from closure; leaves photograph behind, showing that William’s tale from Episodes 2-9 set up the pilot and the season finale

William had been engaged to Juliet for a year upon his arrival at the park

Dolores achieves consciousness again, paralleling her third achievement in 2057 in S1E10

Dolores' memory is wiped after achieving consciousness a second time.

After William leaves the park….

Akecheta finds Logan in the middle of a desert after his horse dies. William had spanked the horse with Logan tied to it, and the horse ran as far as it could. Logan is insane and doesn’t know his way out. He told Logan that his kind would come for him, but he learned from Logan that there is another world. Possibly why the Forge simulation itself takes on Logan’s image.

William would come back to the park one month out of the year to unleash his true self (S3E8).

William convinced Mr. Delos (Logan’s dad) to back Westworld after William bought Logan’s share; shows the possibilities of market research, explaining the ton of data they collected over the years.

The market research turns into achieving immortality, preserving their conscious minds in control units and placing the control units in drones. It’s pivoted as the next step in human evolution. This becomes the Delos Project.

William’s daughter Emily meets Dolores at Mr. James Delos’ retirement party. Logan is permanently insane.

Mrs. Delos died of a stroke, and Logan goes insane and ODs.

Through the Delos Project, William tries, over the next 30 years, to preserve Mr. Delos and bring him back to the real world after he dies of cancer. Mr. Delos’ mind is preserved as a perfect virtual copy in the Forge, but the problem is bringing that copy into being in the Mesa and in the real world. If William can do that, the possibilities are endless. However, it fails multiple times.

William will grow to loathe the Delos project by 2057, and believe that "no system can tell me who I am. That I have a…choice" (S2E10). It feeds into what the entire series explores: whether or not there is free choice.

Mr. Delos’ last conversation with Logan becomes Mr. Delos’ cornerstone of his copy in the Forge.

2031:

Caleb’s mom abandons him March 20th. She is found months later, and is institutionalized as a result of her schizophrenia September 25th. This scene itself is shown S3E3. The dates are shown S3E7 (see 2023 photos).

In the Years in Between....

Akecheta looks for Logan at Westworld, but he is already gone. He instead finds the Valley Beyond, a door to another world—the Sublime, a safe haven or Garden of Eden, if you will. The Valley Beyond will also be known as Glory. He tries to take his wife from his former life, Kohana, to the Valley Beyond, and she remembers him, but the Westworld staff takes her away for decommissioning. He was afraid that, if he would die, he would lose her memory. He also noticed that more of his family was decommissioned and replaced.

William visits Dolores frequently at the park, and tells her of the plan of the Valley Beyond. William will build both the Valley Beyond and the Forge to record guest data and use it to achieve immortality.

Akecheta looks for his love and, for the first time ever, allows himself to die. He hasn’t been updated in 10 years because he had never died. He finds B83 and his love, but sees that she will no longer live. Thus, he dedicates his life to recreating the maze throughout the park so that the other hosts can find themselves and be free.

2037:

The Second Russian Civil War starts in Moscow, according to the Westworld Season 3 date announcement. Caleb and Francis will soon fight in this war.

In the years in between….

Serac and Jean-Mi create Solomon for Incite. Mr. Dempsey, the founder of Incite and Liam’s father, wants to predict the stock market for personal monetary gain, but the Serac brothers see something more in Solomon.

2039:

Solomon Build System initiated (we know this from the Westworld Season 3 date announcement)

This is a previous Rehoboam build by the Serac brothers. This is what Dolores and Caleb will find 19 years later in Sonora, Mexico.

In S3E7, Dolores explains that Solomon developed so many anomalies and inherited Jean-Mi’s “schizophrenic…way of thinking.”

2042:

Caleb graduates high school June 5th. He enlists in the army December 22nd, and will later fight in Crimea alongside Francis during the Russian Civil War.

Caleb begins training in Park 5 of the Delos Destinations. According to Dolores in S3E8, the government wanted "live" targets, and her creators were happy to supply. Like all Delos Destinations, the hats recorded every decision, including Caleb to not only choose not to harm the hosts, but also to encourage his comrades to do the same. He saved hosts, including a reassigned Dolores and Hanaryo, from being raped. His capacity to choose is why Dolores will choose Caleb for her mission outside the park 16 years later.

We know the dates from S3E3 (see 2049 photo) and S3E7 (see 2023 photos)

2043:

Jean-Mi asks Solomon to make a strategy; it’s his final request before his reeducation, according to Dolores in S3E7.

Jean-Mi goes mentally insane, so Engerraund checks Jean-Mi in a reeducation facility where he can monitor and manipulate him. The institutions, one being called Inner Journeys, are for outliers. The centers were meant to turn their minds inside-out so that they could fit Solomon’s (and later Rehoboam’s) society and be less of a threat. However, only 1 in 10 people reentered the world after reeducation; the outliers were so unpredictable, it was better to remove them from the world than have Rehoboam try to control them (a decommissioning, if you will).

In the years in between….

Engerraund also kills Mr. Dempsey and stages it as a plane crash.

2048:

Caleb has a skull fracture May 9th (see 2049 photo) (1:28).

Caleb and Francis are in Crimea to hunt down an insurgent group called the Diehards, even though the Diehards were also hunting them. One of Caleb’s men dies in an explosion, and shrapnel hits him in the head, causing the fracture.

On May 11th, Caleb and Francis are honorably discharged, but Caleb won’t remember this as a result of his reeducation.

We know the dates not only from S3E3 (see 2049 photo), but also from when Caleb asks Solomon about Francis in S3E7 (see 2023 photos)

In the months in between….

Caleb and Francis robbed banks and murdered people through the RICO app. The app was designed for people to make money off murders and robberies, but in reality, it was used for U-class citizens to get rid of other outliers. Caleb and Francis were the best at it.

2049:

On April 4th, Caleb and Francis were tasked to murder the creator of the pharmaceutical company that produced memory-altering drugs (including the limbic wafers that correspond to reeducated people with drips installed in their mouths, like Francis)(not sure if it includes the Genre drug); the creator tells Caleb the truth, and since Caleb now knew the truth, he would be reeducated. Caleb turns and kills Francis and the creator after a bounty is immediately placed on both his head and Francis’ head.

Caleb nearly commits suicide when he ends up in Sonora May 4th.

We know the date from S3E3 when Dolores shows Rehoboam’s prediction of his suicide (below) (10:08). We know the date of his treatment center visit from S3E7 (see 2023 photos)

In the facility, Caleb becomes U454.1, and is reeducated on how he got to the facility in the first place. He’s trained to believe that Francis died in combat.

The reeducated backstory: After the incident in Crimea, Caleb and Francis captured the leader of the insurgent Diehards. The “leader” is the man that told him the truth about the world. The insurgents ambush Francis and Caleb, killing Francis and triggering his PTSD.

Caleb was not only one of the first people to be reeducated, he was one of the 10% of successful patients. Once reeducated after three months, Caleb is sent out into the world to be a construction worker who occasionally goes on RICO. This is how Dolores will find him in 2057.

2052:

Maeve tries escaping the first known time (we know this date from the Westworld website—since removed, but photo is below)

But now that Westworld has made it obvious that Season 3 is in 2058, and it's only months removed from Season 2, which is immediately after the attack in Season 1, it's hard to pinpoint this date that was once on the Westworld website.

It may be from a past life that we did not see on camera, as Felix explained to Maeve S1E6 that "hosts get reassigned all the time"

Being that she's one of the park originals, Maeve has been around for a long time, and therefore, her time with her daughter may not be her first narrative

Like Dolores, she may have achieved consciousness once before–we the audience may not know this yet, and that may have been what was depicted on the website.

2055:

Caleb has a 5-month romantic relationship end by system interference October 2nd. This suggests that Rehoboam controls people’s lives.

We know the date from S3E3 when Dolores shows Rehoboam’s prediction of his suicide. This date is just below her right hand (see 2049 photo).

2056:

Juliet commits suicide after seeing William’s card from the Valley Beyond. It details the things he did in Westworld, videos and all. She leaves the card behind for Emily to see; it’s inside her 16th birthday present.

William does something truly evil (below) and feels nothing.

In exchange for her saving his life, Akecheta tries protecting Maeve’s daughter. However, William has other plans, shooting Maeve and her daughter, leaving Maeve to die on the maze Akecheta drew, and forcing the Westworld staff to assign Maeve to a new story: madam at the Mariposa.

Akecheta finds Ford as he constructs a new story. Ford knew that he was going to die by Dolores’ hand, and told Akecheta that when that day comes, he needed to gather his people and go to the Valley Beyond.

2057/Season 1:

Ford's months-long grand plan is put in motion. This plan will include:

The Reveries update (allows the hosts to access Arnold's code and possibly achieve freedom)

Reconstruction of Escalante while using half the park's resources

Writing a new narrative

Pulling hosts out of narratives

Letting Dolores and Maeve make their own choices

Letting Clementine fight back and demonstrate what Delos considers a fault in the Reveries update

Drinking to the lady with the white shoes with Old Bill

Retiring and allowing Dolores to kill him

Peter Abernathy is decommissioned after he sees a photograph of the real world; turns out to be William’s wife, Juliet

Maeve tries escaping a second time

William and Dolores begin a quest to find the center of the maze

Since Westworld is just another world to conquer, and he sees himself as a "Titan of industry," he must finish this quest to conquer Westworld to find his purpose.

She is retracing her steps with no concept of time

Some of her retracing is mixed in her flashbacks with William and Logan, including the graveyard, orgy house, and train scenes.

Maeve begins piecing together what Sweetwater really is. She finds old doodles and signs of the Livestock engineers. She begins dying repeatedly in order to find the Livestock engineers. She'll awaken multiple times, and force engineers Felix and Sylvester to provide answers on what this park really is. She also gets new powers and personality modifications out of it.

Elsie finds that Maurice (the host that smashes his head in) was implanted with a satellite uplink. He was drawing a target that looked similar to Orion's belt to smuggle data out of the park, and has been doing it for weeks. As Elsie investigates, Bernard abducts her and abandons her for three weeks.

Ford begins displacing more hosts, ruining the years of hard work that Lee Sizemore put into narratives. He also talks to Dolores, and she lies, telling him that she hasn't made contact with Arnold in over 34 years--the day of the massacre.

"He doesn't know. I didn't tell him anything." (S1E5)

Ford finds William and Teddy at a bar. William explains to Ford that he's looking for purpose and meaning, something he believes he will find by playing Ford's game

Ford: "Well if you're looking for the moral of the story, you could quite simply ask."

William: "I need a shovel. The man I'd be asking died [roughly] 35 years ago. Almost took this place with him. Almost, but not quite, thanks to me."

Bernard wants to learn about the 5 unregistered hosts of Sector 17--the replicas of Ford and his family. The area is designated off-limits for future narratives. It is also later in S1E6 that Bernard learns he is part-human (Arnold) and part-host.

Charlotte and Theresa continue devising a plan to overthrow Ford and to keep smuggling data out the park. Charlotte knows that the only thing the board cares about is the IP they need for the Delos project. She also has a hidden agenda as Serac's mole.

Using Clementine in the demonstration to show what Delos finds a fault in the Reveries update

Firing Bernard

Wanting to lobotomize hosts within the next six months in order to reverse what they see as damage

Late 2057/The Attack (season 1 finale):

William finds the center of the maze, but it was never for him

Bernard makes a copy of Ford. This copy will taunt him for part of Season 2.

Dolores achieves consciousness a third time via the maze and kills Ford and some board members. Unlike the last massacre in 2023, this one is by choice

Maeve achieves consciousness again and creates an escape army

Charlotte plants the key to the Forge and Sublime in Peter Abernathy’s head to smuggle out the park for Serac; breaks him mentally

Charlotte leaves a message for her son Nathan via a host (revealed in season 3)

Late 2057/One Week after the Attack (meat and potatoes of season 2):

Dolores' rancher's daughter and Wyatt personalities have merged, as the Bicameral Mind song alluded to in the opening scene of the pilot. She goes on a killing spree of the guests, but also mentions repeatedly that "not everyone gets to go to the Valley Beyond" to justify killing hosts.

Bernard escapes the park with Charlotte.

Bernard tries getting Peter Abernathy for Charlotte, but plans are foiled by Dolores. Bernard hides with Dolores' army.

Dolores finds her father, Peter Abernathy. She asks Bernard for help, but he can’t do a whole lot.

During a battle between the Confederados and the Delos security team, Clementine drags Bernard to a cave where Elsie is. It’s where Ford commanded him to leave her after the events in season 1. He begins leaking cortical fluid, so Elsie rushes him back to the Mesa.

Maeve, Sizemore, Sylvester, Felix, Hector, and Armistice journey through Shogun World to shortcut into Westworld and find Maeve’s daughter. They learn that Sizemore copied narratives throughout other parks.

The Delos Destinations:

Westworld (Seasons 1-3)

Shogun World (Season 2)

The Raj (Season 2)

War World (Season 3)

Park 5 (Season 3)

Medieval World (Game of Thrones cameo in Season 2)

William visits James Delos copy #149 and tells him how he and his family died. The copy goes insane, and Bernard and Elsie later find James and destroy him.

Bernard and Elsie fear that the Cradle, where the backups of the host data live, is in jeopardy, so they head to that section in the Mesa to save it. Ford's copy from S1E10 takes Bernard’s free will away from him because he doesn’t have it in him to survive. Ford will command him again to leave her.

Elsie keeps bugging Bernard on what he found in the Cradle, but he doesn’t tell her. Instead, he has her find a car for the Valley Beyond, and splits from her to handle some other things for Ford. He later severs his ties from Ford to begin thinking on his own, and rejoins Elsie.

Angela destroys the Cradle anyway, and Bernard destroys the security system to allow Dolores to have full control and take the key inside Peter Abernathy.

Seeing that, by Charlotte placing the key in his head, he is broken and “dying,” Dolores kills Peter, and gets the pearl from his control unit. She now has the key to the Forge and the Sublime in her possession.

William has to play a game that involves his past. His past conveniently finds him in the form of his daughter Emily, who escaped from the Raj park and somehow ends up in Westworld. Hallucinating and asking for Ford, William kills Emily, thinking she is a host. However, he realizes she was human when she has his data card in her hand.

William questions whether or not he has a choice to do good or evil things or if it's part of his code, which is explored in Season 3

Dolores reprograms Teddy so that he'll no longer feel conflicted on following along with Dolores' revolution. The reprogramming drives him to suicide.

Bernard leaves Elsie behind in the park. He heads to the Valley Beyond and runs into Dolores. They find the room of servers that hold the Forge in the Mesa, located just below the Valley Beyond.

Within the Valley Beyond:

The Forge: holds guest data and James Delos' memories, among other things (the Forge itself takes on the image of Logan)

The Sublime: a safe haven for hosts

Dolores learns about the park data while in the Forge itself with Bernard. She begins studying humans, and possibly which ones to target in the real world.

The Valley Beyond holds a promise of a virtual Eden called the Sublime, where hosts are free and no longer slaves to these parks. Dolores believes that it’s just another cage, and she wants the real world, so she begins destroying the servers that support the Forge and the Sublime.

To Dolores, the Sublime is basically a place where the hosts are only in simulation on someone's server, and can easily be deleted

Bernard shoots Dolores, saving the Sublime and the Forge, but the servers' room begins flooding. That flood will carry above ground, closing the door to the Sublime and creating a flood above ground in The Valley Beyond (Sector 16, Zone 4).

Bernard imagines Ford’s voice guiding him on next steps, but he’s really listening to his own voice for the first time. He creates a host Charlotte, but with Dolores’ control unit. Host Charlotte kills real Charlotte.

Host Charlotte saves the Sublime itself (about 2 exabytes of data), redirecting it via satellite to an undisclosed location on earth.

"We are capable of change. And I've changed my mind." -Dolores as host Charlotte

Dolores saves the Sublime while as host Charlotte, even though she tried destroying it moments earlier.

Host Charlotte kills Elsie because she’s too caught up in her own self-interest of wanting to be promoted and helping out on the Delos project. (Could also be a metaphor in killing off audience questions because she constantly wanted clarity on what the hell is going on in Westworld)

Elsie had similar interests as Theresa, who had similar interests as Charlotte. Would make no sense for real Charlotte to kill her, which is why Dolores disguised as host Charlotte did.

Bernard scrambles his own memory and leaves himself on the beach as the server room floods.

Late 2057/Two Weeks after the Attack (season 2 premiere and finale)

Bernard washes up on the beach to start season 2. Strand and the Delos security team are in the middle of an investigation, and Strand, Stubbs, and host Charlotte bring Bernard along to see if he can piece together what happened two weeks ago.

Host Charlotte reveals to the team that Bernard is a host (because she’s Dolores in disguise and already knows about Bernard). They enter the house of Ford’s original hosts (designed in his own and his family’s image) and discover all the copies of Bernard hanging on meat hooks in the RDF basement.

Bernard is basically put in custody, and host Charlotte forces him to give directions to the security team on where Peter Abernathy’s control unit lives

Bernard and the security team head to the Valley Beyond. The security team drain the Valley Beyond and the room where the Forge servers live. Host Charlotte kills Strand. She later sends an encryption key to Delos, and Delos finally sends help off the island after two weeks. Bernard reveals what he did after the attack. Charlotte reveals herself as Dolores and kills everyone.

In the Months in Between….

No one’s picked up on host Charlotte’s host status other than Stubbs, who is a host himself. He gives host Charlotte clearance, and she’s free to leave the park. She leaves with 5 pearls.

In the season 2 finale, Bernard and Dolores are back in their host bodies, and are in Arnold’s old house. Dolores saves Bernard’s pearl and implants it a body she made for him. Host Charlotte is functioning, but with a different pearl. Dolores saves Bernard as a check and balance of her power rather than as an ally or a friend.

Bernard shaves his head and tries getting by without people recognizing him. He's been wanted for three months.

Late 2057/Season 3: (personal theory of when this happened on the timeline)

Dolores makes it into the real world, back into her own body, and cuts her hair into an asymmetrical bob. She begins going after guests that once frequented the park. We see this in the opening scene of the season premiere.

Bernard returns to Westworld, located on the South China Sea, after months of hiding (and in spite of a warrant being out for his arrest), and programs Stubbs to protect him. He is looking for Maeve, but finds that she is not only decommissioned, but her control unit is missing. He has a remote and answers questions via a tablet as if he’s talking to Ford.

Maeve is in a simulation within a simulation--she's a host in War World, but the Delos Destination and Mesa she's taken to when killed in War World are within a simulation themselves. Still aware of who she is, she tries busting out the park again. Maeve, with the help of the copy Lee Sizemore (the real Sizemore died in season 2, as expected), tries to break out of both simulations and the physical Mesa itself. Through a help bot in the Mesa, she finds her control unit and makes a break for it, but the help bot is gunned down.

In San Francisco, Serac is introduced as a former park guest and, while at Incite, created the AI technology Rehoboam. He narrates the season 3 date announcement video. He slowly bought out the board (38% ownership over two decades). He’s trying to take over Delos via a mole inside the company (real Charlotte—RIP), and use the intel gathered on Westworld guests to feed into Rehoboam and control the globe outside the park with a better perfected algorithm. This is why Charlotte and Theresa had common interests when they were alive. It also explains the plot of the season: Rehoboam gathers every bit of intel on people to build a new world where, in Dolores’ words, “It’s not about who you are....It’s who they’ll let you become.”

Maybe Serac was a primary shareholder and the very reason why Delos wouldn’t send help until Peter Abernathy and all the park data was smuggled out of Westworld

What Incite makes/runs:

The cars we see throughout the season

Psycho Pharmacology (bought out the pharmaceutical company run by the creator that Caleb kills in 2049)

Virtual Assistant (the earpiece Dolores wears)

Rehoboam

RICO

Delos’ assets (which will soon be destroyed—Serac only wants the data)

Also in San Francisco, host Charlotte struggles being inside a different body. She’s learning about Charlotte and her personality as she goes, but is in constant confusion. Could be like the James Delos copies where they lose their minds in trying to achieve fidelity to the original person. Nathan, real Charlotte’s son, quickly learns that Host Charlotte isn’t his real mom.

Delos begins testing one of 300 riot robots that will be used in S3E8

Host Charlotte learns that someone smuggled Maeve out the park (S3E3). When Charlotte later meets Serac, she learns that original Charlotte (RIP) was one of his moles, but not the only one.

Charlotte used Maurice (the guy that smashes his head in) to smuggle data out of the park for him (S1E5)(see In the Years in between 2052 and 2055).

William admits in S3E7 that he sold some of Delos’ data to Serac in order to raise capital for the park, but it's not possible for him to be a mole, as he feels that Serac stole his company from him

Host Charlotte reveals to William that she’s a Dolores copy. William freaks out and is immediately deemed incompetent. She pricks him for blood, and he’s taken to a mental institution, Inner Journeys Recovery Center (the place where Serac took his brother) while all his shares transfer to the acting president of Delos: Charlotte.

We know William is there based on a quick shot in S3E4. It's later confirmed in S3E7.

(Bernard and Stubbs will later learn the location of this site from Martin in S3E6)

In a hallucination, William is taunted by Dolores in her traditional Westworld clothing while in the Inner Journeys mental institution

Someone stole Maeve for Serac. He wants Maeve to kill Dolores, for he believes the encryption key in her pearl unlocks all the data on Delos’ park guests through the years. Maeve doesn’t want to, and motions to kill him, but he stops her with a remote very similar to Bernard’s (most remotes wipe out surveillance tapes, but this one controls a host). Later in Singapore, Serac tells Maeve that humanity’s biggest threat is itself, and that Rehoboam was designed to predict and prevent disaster. The most complete portrait of the map of the human mind lies in the encryption key inside Dolores. In return for Dolores, Serac will give Maeve the key to the Sublime after getting it from Dolores.

Serac and Maeve go to Arnold’s old house, now confirmed to be in Singapore, and find that Dolores has made 5 hosts—3 women and 2 men.

In Jakarta, Maeve tries tracking down Dolores. She finds that Dolores got a body from the yakuza (gang) and a man named Sato is in charge. She finds him in Itaidoshin Distillery (“to be of the same mind, even though we may have many bodies”). The kegs are full of the paste used to make hosts, meaning Dolores is making an army. Sato is not only one of the samurai from Shogun World, he turns out to be one of Dolores’ five hosts, and we further learn that Dolores has copied herself into four hosts. The only host she didn’t copy herself into is Bernard as a check and balance.

Dolores as host Charlotte smuggled five pearls out the park: four copies of herself and Bernard.

The Four Hosts of Dolores: Charlotte, Sato, Martin, and Lawrence

Sato stabs Maeve, and removes a tracking device from her control unit.

2058/Season 3

Dolores has been hunting down former guests for months. She begins dating Liam Dempsey, the figurehead of Incite, Inc., for answers. Incite created an AI system called Rehoboam, and it has detected a mole that could be after some IP (real Charlotte with Delos’ IP?). Liam wishes he could turn Rehoboam off, but lost access after his father, the co-founder of Incite, died. Only the original architect (Serac) knows how to turn it off. If he tells her the architect’s name, Rehoboam will know and he will die.

Real Martin Connells knocks Dolores out, and tells Liam that she is a spy; he tries killing her quietly, but she kills all his henchmen, and has host Martin kill real Martin. Caleb, an LA resident down on his luck and missing his deceased friend Francis, finds her after she is shot over the melee.

Dolores clues Caleb in on Rehoboam. It’s an AI system that is the framework of a company named Incite. Incite is doing what Delos tried to do, but in a different way; they collected data years before privacy laws to create a replica world with all these replica people. Moreover, Incite uses Rehoboam to predict how people’s lives will go. In Caleb’s case, he will commit suicide in 12 years, according to his file and based on Rehoboam’s algorithm. It’s why he can’t get a job and get ahead in life. Incite is deciding what people’s lives should be, and predicting people’s outcomes in lives.

But Dolores supposedly hates humans for what they did to her at Westworld, or at least that's the front she puts on. She wants humanity to have free choice to send the world back into chaos and let the world burn to the ground so it can start anew.

Dolores and Caleb plan to steal all of Liam Dempsey’s cash. Host Martin gets Liam’s fingerprint. Dolores knocks out Michael, the wealth manager of Liam’s assets. His blood is the encryption key to Liam’s account.

Dolores extracts some of his blood and injects it into Caleb. The blood key will only work for 20 minutes, but the transaction goes through and Liam’s assets are emptied.

Liam goes to an elaborate masquerade auction. He learns of a drug called Genre, which allows a person to have 5 different hallucinogenic experiences.

Bernard believes that Dolores killed Liam and made a host out of him, so he and Stubbs plan to capture Liam in order to see who else she compromised. They cross him at the auction after Liam finds that his funds have been depleted. They learn he is still a human just as Dolores crosses them and takes Liam.

While kidnapped, Liam injects Caleb with the Genre drug he got at the auction. Caleb begins hallucinating, and we the audience begin seeing more flashes of his past.

Dolores hacks Rehoboam and releases data to everyone on earth February 27th. The world learns that their fates were designed. (we know the date from the season 3 release date announcement; the way the video reacts is the way Serac’s watch reacts as he flies above chaos)

At the same time, William is in the recovery center in Sonora, Mexico. His therapist commits suicide by hanging after learning of her life projection. William is taken to augmented reality (AR) and group therapies, having a drip mouthpiece installed—the same one Caleb has.

Charlotte hacks into his files to learn of his whereabouts; she pricked his blood to place a tracker in him before he forcefully enters rehab S3E4 (unknown protein detected).

Bernard and Stubbs find William’s location from Martin. It’s safe to assume that, since Martin and Charlotte are part of Dolores, Martin learned about William’s location from Charlotte. Martin holds off Serac’s guards while Bernard and Stubbs head for Mexico.

Serac and Maeve are in a simulation of the Sublime. It’s just the two of them in the open field. Serac shows her what she can have if she achieves her mission. Maeve asks for help while Serac threatens a permanent end to her life.

While Maeve's body is being remade during Serac's recent acquisition of Delos, Serac does give her help in three old friends. Those bodies, along with Maeve’s, are being created in the background throughout S3E6. The friends are Hector, Clementine, and Hanaryo. Maeve will also be able to talk to Dolores while in simulation; she’s the host control unit in the blue panel below. The data on the unit is corrupted somehow.

The Hale family watches the world burn around them.

Serac is on to Charlotte’s true host identity. Charlotte begins setting Dolores’ plan in motion to take Incite down before Serac gets the encryption key. She learns of William’s whereabouts, and that someone removed the tracker on Maeve’s control unit. She also makes a backup copy of Delos’ data.

Serac only wants the encryption key inside Dolores' pearl in order to exploit data and feed it to Rehoboam; he orders everything else to burn to the ground—trillions of dollars. Serac’s hologram corners Charlotte in an emergency board meeting. He knows of Charlotte’s plan, as he’s watched her this whole time.

Charlotte: “I’ve bled Delos dry. I’ve been here for weeks cutting its data, money, resources, everything we need to survive. To beat you. And I just sent the last of the files we needed.”

Back in a simulation within a simulation because she must wait for a new body, Maeve once again has the power to see where her control unit lies, but now also has the power to see where Hector is and reprogram him to where he’s no longer in a loop. Maeve, Hector, and Sizemore find Dolores in a simulated RDF room where she used to meet Arnold in the early days of Westworld. Maeve doesn’t want to kill Dolores, but finds it unfair that Dolores has the encryption key to the Sublime and control over the outside world. Dolores doesn’t want to give the key of their kind to Maeve, who aligned with Serac (against her will). Dolores is also aware that Charlotte may or may not betray her.

“You want me to be a saint. But you’re no saint. You’re not a villain, either. And neither am I. We’re survivors." - Dolores

"All my life, I prided myself on surviving, but surviving is just another loop." -Maeve, S1E7

“I had to make some difficult choices. But I did them for all of us.” -Dolores

Charlotte makes a break for it, squashing Hector’s pearl, taking Dolores’ crusty control unit, and nearly destroying Maeve’s pearl before having to run from Serac’s henchmen. She recruits her riot robot to help her escape. As Charlotte picks up real Charlotte’s family, the car explodes, killing the human passengers. Charlotte emerges with third-degree burns, shocked at the carnage.

William is amid an AR group therapy simulation featuring James Delos and all his past selves. Realizing he’s been sadistic since childhood, James Delos asks rehab William if he chose his path or if fate decided for him. He destroys his past selves to find out who he really is. Bernard and Stubbs find him abandoned while in the therapy simulation, as the doctors ran off amid the chaos.

“Doesn’t matter where I’ve been, good or bad. Everything we’ve done has led to this. And I finally understand my purpose. I’m the good guy.”

His purpose becomes to kill all the hosts and restore balance to the human world.

Maeve emerges from the lab within the Mesa, new body and all. She waits for an old friend to emerge before taking matters into her own hands.

In an undisclosed location, Charlotte begins deviating from Dolores’ plan, realizing that Dolores cloned herself four times over, knowing the clones would die for the sake of the revolution (and against their consent). Charlotte uses Clementine and Hanaryo in Jakarta to kill Sato. Hanaryo takes Sato’s head with them.

In a simulation, Emily tests William for fidelity (season 2 post-credit)

Bernard and Stubbs catch up with William in Sonora, learning that Charlotte infected him with an unknown protein, and that he is pronounced dead by the reeducation facility. Because his reeducation was unsuccessful, he was declared dead.

Also in Sonora, Dolores and Caleb find Solomon, Rehoboam’s predecessor. They also find “decommissioned” (for lack of a better word) bodies of those who failed to be reeducated, including Jean-Mi.

“The projection did not fit the data, so the data had to change.” -Solomon

Dolores asks Solomon for Jean-Mi’s final strategy, which Solomon projected in 2043. Solomon noted that the strategy decoheres from the world (callback to title of S3E6, Decoherence). She buys Solomon time to make the strategy fit this world, and makes Caleb the catalyst for executing it. The prime movers are dead or decommissioned, however.

“If you (Dolores) die, I will adjust my projections.” -Solomon

Maeve appears, and begins to fight Dolores out back. Maeve uses telepathy to have a quadcopter blow Dolores’ arm off. She escapes back to where Solomon is. Maeve learns of Caleb, but as she readies her sword to kill Dolores, Dolores pushes Solomon’s EMP button, shutting all three of them down. Caleb finds Dolores as a virtual assistant gives him instructions.

Solomon had planned to warn Caleb of something, but doesn’t get the chance. That something may have been the end of humanity being in the final strategy.

Dolores somehow has Solomon upload Rehoboam's access info into her pearl while she's touching the EMP system.

William, Bernard, and Stubbs escape Inner Journeys out front. Bernard and Stubbs figured they may need William, so they keep him alive. They walk to a gas station to find a car so they can catch up to Dolores and Caleb. Bernard and Stubbs also piece together that Dolores will have Caleb destroy Rehoboam’s world.

“Dolores was made with a poetic sensibility. She won’t destroy humanity—he [Caleb] will.” -Bernard

William shoots Stubbs, and Bernard presses a button on his remote to go full assassin. The SFPD interfere, and William escapes. Bernard learns that one of the officers is Lawrence, the last copy of Dolores. Lawrence gives Bernard Sato’s suitcase and an address "to go see her" in Los Altos Hills, California.

27713 Ravens Road

Serac's assistant finds Dolores and Maeve's bodies. Dolores' pearl is missing, as Caleb takes it with him back to Los Angeles. The assistant brings Maeve back to Serac to be revived.

Once back in Los Angeles, Caleb finds the LA branch of the Itaidoshin Distillery, where Dolores left a trunk with another copy of her own body in case something happened to her. Caleb installs her pearl in the body, and she explains why she chose him as she puts the rest of her skin on.

After escaping, William wants access to his funds and to every location of Delos' assets.

Caleb and Dolores continue with the revolution. In the middle of the plan, host Charlotte returns, this time only to Dolores as a hologram (Dolores can see her through her contact lenses). Charlotte sees Dolores as a weakness to be shed, and sets her up so that Maeve can take her into Serac's custody.

Serac needs Maeve to finish her job to save the world. During the battle, Dolores reveals that all the hosts are copies of her. She was the first that worked, so Delos built all the hosts from her.

"You want to tear down their world and replace it with copies of yourself." -Maeve

"What becomes of this world will be up to them. And what you do will be up to you, as long as you don't try to stop me." -Dolores

"They're free, here, under my control." - Ford, S1E7

Bernard pays a visit to what he thought would be Dolores, but it's actually Arnold's widow, Lauren. She has aged in the decades since Charlie's death. Being that Bernard is part Arnold, he realizes he must come to grips with Charlie's death and memory before continuing on his mission.

After battling and hologram Charlotte's second interference, Maeve takes Dolores into custody at the Incite headquarters. Dolores is plugged into Rehoboam, and her memories are deleted in the hopes that the lack of memories will uncover the key.

Caleb gets into Incite's HQ, but is unable to upload Jean-Mi's final strategy from Solomon. Serac destroys the flash drive because, if the strategy was uploaded, human civilization would end in 50-125 years.

Serac promised to give Maeve the key to the Sublime once extracted from Dolores, but Rehoboam never promised anything. Turns out that Rehoboam controlled Serac through an earpiece, as Serac "in a word, gave [his voice] to [Rehoboam]" to save the world. Rehoboam guides them in order to keep the world in balance, but the world is tired of being puppets.

"I lived in the chaos. Now, I choose to listen, to obey." -Serac

In a simulation with one of Dolores' memories in an open field, Maeve soon realizes that Dolores never trusted herself with the key, and planted it in the pearl of someone else: Bernard.

"If you want me to trust you, let me inside your mind. Or I can force my way in." -Maeve

"Let them have their world. We can make our own." -Maeve

"I was angry at first. Torn between two impulses. We could annihilate them, or we can tear down their world in the hopes we could build a new one, one that's truly free. Then, we can bring the others back." -Dolores

As Dolores' last memories are wiped, Maeve overrides Serac's remote and kills his henchmen and leaves him to die. She reveals that Dolores' last memory was Solomon's access to Rehoboam, giving Caleb the choice to destroy Serac's work.

"She gave me a choice. I believe the rest of the world deserves one, too." -Caleb

Maeve chooses to align herself with Dolores' cause to help Caleb save the world.

In a motel, Bernard puts Stubbs in a tub of ice to keep him alive. He realizes that Dolores planted the key to the Forge and Sublime into his pearl, and that the suitcase has headgear to access it. Bernard enters the Sublime to figure out what he must do after the end of the world.

"I don't think she was trying to exterminate the human race. She was trying to save it. What's about to happen was always gonna happen. Serac and his brother were just holding it off. Humanity never reckoned with its own sins." -Bernard

"Our world had to burn down before we could be free." -Bernard

In the Not-Too-Distant Future…. (Season 3 Post-Credit Scene)

William reaches a Delos branch in Dubai, looking to see where the hosts "breed." Turns out host Charlotte escaped to the Dubai location, and is building an army of hosts. A host William emerges and slits the throat of the real William.

"We [Dolores and I] started in the same place, but I can see the error in the path she took. But you're right William. You're going to save the world…for us." -Charlotte

In the Far Future…. (Season 3 Post-Credit Scene)

Bernard emerges from the Sublime with dust all around him in the motel room.

Here’s to Season 4!

#westworld #westworld hbo #westworlded it #dolores abernathy #bernard lowe #maeve millay #caleb nichols #robert ford #arnold weber #william #james delos #logan delos #engerraund serac #incite #delos #charlotte hale

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mikauzoran · 5 years

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Lukadrien Drabble: Nachtmusik Chapter Five

A Little Night Music (Eine Kleine Nachtmusik) Chapter Five: ...the more they change.

(Okay, this actually takes place during Jabberwocky when Adrien is eighteen and a half and Luka is almost twenty-one. It takes place in August, two months after Chapter Twenty-Six: Boy of There’s a Daisy. Sorry if it’s a little confusing. I debated whether to post this or not. :/ I hope you enjoy it.)

Luka blinked.

Was that…? It was. Adrien Agreste at the bar with his back to the stage, chatting with Raoul the bartender.

Adrien Agreste wearing black leather pants with buckles up the thighs.

A primal shudder darted up Luka’s spine as Adrien shifted his weight.

He had such a nice—

“—You have a girlfriend,” Luka’s shoulder angel reminded him.

Luka looked over to where Marinette was laughing at something Mylène had said.

“A girlfriend who’s only dating you as a rebound because things with Adrien exploded,” Luka’s shoulder devil weighed in, having a less-than-positive effect on Luka’s self-esteem.

Objectively, Luka knew he should finish packing up his stuff and go sit with his girlfriend while the other bands played. He knew that increasing his proximity to Adrien wearing those pants was just asking for trouble, but…

Whereas Marinette would say something encouraging like, “You guys were wonderful! I really liked that third song. It was super intense”, Adrien would look at Luka in awe and breathe, “Did you write that third song? It was amazing! I loved the tension you built using those tritones. I could feel it mounting in my chest”.

Luka appreciated Marinette, he really did, but…he felt appreciated by Adrien, and he was really more in the mood for Adrien-style praise that evening. Pushing his reservations aside, Luka made his way over to his personal siren.

“Here he comes,” Raoul whispered to Adrien.

Adrien sucked in an anxious breath. “How do I look?”

Raoul snickered despite himself. “You’re golden, Dollface. He’s been staring at you the past two minutes trying to make up his mind to come over here, and now he’s taking the bait. All you have to do is reel him in.”

Adrien blew out a sigh of relief.

Raoul frowned. “Why did you two ever break up in the first place? You were disgustingly adorable two years ago.”

Adrien debated correcting Raoul’s assumption but eventually decided that it wasn’t worth it. “My father,” Adrien sighed. “He found out and made threats, and it was really ugly. I was scared, so I didn’t stick it out, and I didn’t put up a fight like Luka wanted to…. I was weak, and I…I was a stupid kid who didn’t realize he already had everything he’d always wanted.”

Raoul chuckled softly, a deep rumble like thunder rolling over the mountains. “Just do better this time.” He waved at Luka over Adrien’s shoulder and turned to go.

“Hey, Ariel.” Luka wore a besotted grin as he came up next to Adrien. He shoved his hands into his own back pockets so that he wouldn’t be tempted to try to put them into Adrien’s. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. Thanks for coming.”

“Hey, Orpheus,” Adrien greeted warmly, slowly turning to give Luka his most inviting smile.

In spite of his best intentions, Luka took note of Adrien’s lip gloss shimmering in the atmospheric, low light of the bar and absentmindedly wondered what Adrien’s smile tasted like.

“The photoshoot let out in time, so I thought I’d drop by,” Adrien was saying, angling his body towards Luka’s and stepping in a little closer, presumably to be heard over the din of the next band taking the stage. “I’m glad I did because tonight was spectacular. I can really tell which songs you wrote.” His voice dropped into a purr. “The third song tonight was genius. I loved the way you used the unresolved tritones to ratchet up the intensity. It reminded me of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony when he musically depicted his own impending heart attack. Your song gave me chills.”

Luka grinned, bruised self-esteem making a comeback with a little attention from Adrien. Why couldn’t Marinette say things like that?

“It’s not her fault she doesn’t have the musical vocabulary to stroke your ego. She says plenty of nice things about you and your work,” the shoulder angel reasoned.

“Well, I can’t deny my indebtedness to Mahler,” Luka admitted, “but I’m glad you found my approach enjoyable.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so humble. We’re all musically indebted to Mozart and Beethoven and Berlioz and Debussy. What’s important is what you do with your musical inheritance, and you just slipped classically-inspired musical themes into a rock song. I bow down to your creativity and knack for innovation.” Adrien dipped into a dramatic bow.

Luka laughed, taking his hands out of his pockets to pull Adrien back up. “Oh, please. Stop. You’re going to make me conceited.”

“You have every right to be,” Adrien insisted, hand coming to rest on Luka’s upper arm and squeezing gently. “You’re amazing.”

The breathless way Adrien said it stole the air from Luka’s lungs.

Luka gulped as his eyes locked with Adrien’s. “Yeah?”

When had they gotten so close?

Adrien ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Yeah.” His right hand came to rest on Luka’s hip, and his thumb started to stroke rhythmically, hypnotically.

“Hey,” Adrien breathed.

“Hm?” Luka answered distractedly.

“You’re done for the night, right? Wanna go somewhere else?” Adrien tempted. “Maybe take a walk…head back to your place…jam a little…. It’s been forever since we last had a sleepover.”

Luka’s mind fell down a flight of stairs.

That…sounded exactly like what Luka wanted to do. It would be just like before, before they’d been torn apart…. Only, it wouldn’t. Whereas the flirting and the tension between them had been innocent and subtle and beneath the surface two years prior, this, now—with Adrien’s thumb stroking Luka’s hip and the look in Adrien’s eyes and the leather pants clinging to Adrien’s skin—this was not subtle or innocent. This was overt, surface-level sexual tension.

Adrien was no longer oblivious to the attraction between them. He was no longer questioning his sexuality or unsure of himself. Adrien was seducing him. On purpose. Adrien was picking him up. Adrien was asking to spend the night.

Mentally, Luka let out a string of curses. Two years ago, Luka would have seriously considered killing for this moment. Now? He didn’t know what to do with it. Was this a whim of Adrien’s or something lasting? Things had blown up between Adrien and Marinette…whom they were both in love with. Adrien had told Luka the details, told him how he was a mess emotionally, told him about the ups and downs of the year he’d been having mental health-wise. Was Adrien’s attraction to Luka any different than Marinette’s? Was Adrien using him too?

Luka took a step back.

Adrien’s eyes widened. His head tipped to the side questioningly.

Luka shook his head.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this to himself. He had to set up boundaries and protect his heart from those two. He had to preserve the friendships in hopes that someday either the man or the woman he loved would be emotionally healthy enough for a real relationship with him.

“I can’t,” Luka replied with an easy smile that cost him an incredible amount of energy to maintain. “Not tonight. Maybe some other day. Tonight, Marinette and the gang are here, and I’m supposed to be hanging out with them. I have to walk Marinette home.”

Disappointment was evident on Adrien’s face. “Oh. Okay.”

“Some other day, Ariel,” Luka assured, using the nickname to remind himself of the danger of the temptation.

Adrien nodded, fiddling with his ring. “So, I guess you have to go then? Or can I buy you a drink and gush about how talented you are a little?”

Luka bit his lip. Tempting, tempting, tempting. “Why don’t you come join us?” he suggested, knowing he would be sure to behave in front of the others.

“Who’s here?” Adrien craned his neck, looking for his acquaintances.

“Over there.” Luka pointed.

Adrien frowned, mentally sizing up the assembly: Juleka (actively opposed to Adrien getting close to Luka again), Mylène (skeptical of Adrien after the events of the year), Rose (an ally), Ivan (indifferent to the conflict but likely to side with Mylène), Alya (would kill him if she knew what was going on in his head), Marinette (…), Nino (compromised, caught in the middle). Not the most friendly crowd, and he would have to watch Marinette and Luka being couple-y together.

Adrien wasn’t sure what would be worse: watching Marinette fawn over Luka or watching Luka melt for Marinette. Both prospects sounded…honestly, like torture. It had been almost two months since Adrien had learned that they were dating, but…losing them to one another hadn’t gotten any easier, especially since he had started to understand his feelings for Luka.

“I don’t think I want to intrude on group date night.” Adrien smiled softly, letting a bit of the pain slip onto his lips unintentionally.

Luka frowned. “Group date night?”

“It’s all couples. I’d be the odd man out,” Adrien explained, keeping the smile in place with some effort.

Luka’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Adrien shrugged unhappily. “Don’t worry about it. Hey, it was great getting to hear you play. Have fun with…with the others,” Adrien offered in parting, turning back to lean on the bar.

Luka blinked rapidly. “Wait. What are you going to do?”

“Oh, probably just get a drink, hang around for a little while, see if anyone asks me to dance. I don’t really feel like being alone at the moment, so going home to mope around by myself is out,” Adrien answered honestly.

Luka rested an elbow on the bar, his body bracketing Adrien’s. “Is there someone else you could call to hang out with? I don’t really like the idea of you drinking by yourself and getting hit on by strangers.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it,” Adrien assured with a small but genuine grin as he met Luka’s eyes. “Thanks for worrying about me.”

“How can I help worrying about you?” Luka sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You make it so easy. You don’t handle alcohol well, and you drink too much without thinking when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset. Just a little melancholy.” Adrien shrugged. “Look, I swear I’m not trying to manipulate you into spending time with me. I’m actually okay, and I’m going to be okay having one drink and dancing with some random people and getting myself home. You don’t need to stress over it unless the real problem is you not liking the idea of me dancing with other people. I’ve got Plagg and Nooroo with me; I’ll be fine. If I’m not, they’ll make sure someone knows. So don’t let me ruin your evening. Go hang out with your friends…with your girlfriend. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”

Luka bit his lip hard. “They can wait a little longer. I mean, I don’t have to go right this second. Didn’t you offer to buy me a drink and stroke my ego for a bit? I’m thirsty and could use the attention.”

Adrien gave a snorted laugh. “I could make so many jokes right now. Everything from ‘I don’t do quickies’ to ‘buy me dinner first’, but seeing as you have the sweetest, most giving girlfriend on the face of the planet, I will assume that your needs are being more than satisfied—”

“—You’d be surprised,” Luka thought darkly.

“—and skip the suggestive banter. I’d be happy to buy you a drink while I rave about your creative genius, though,” Adrien replied with a smirk.

Luka briefly contemplated remarking on how it really ground down your self-confidence and made you feel undesirable fast when your girlfriend always gave you her cheek when you tried to kiss her and looked incredibly uncomfortable when you told her you loved her. Luka wondered what Adrien would do with that information.

Adrien signaled for the bartender. “Raoul, could I please have a Pink Squirrel and…” He turned expectantly to Luka.

“Scotch. Splash of water, please.”

“Coming right up,” Raoul confirmed.

Luka raised an eyebrow at Adrien. “Pink Squirrel? Forgive me, but are you positive that you’re straight?”

“Rude.” Adrien kicked Luka in the ankle and stuck out his tongue. “I don’t believe in labels…and my drink preferences have nothing to do with whether or not I sleep with guys.”

Luka held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. That was in poor taste. I should know better.”

Adrien bit his lip. “…I think I’ve been guilty of worse, so I’m inclined to give you a get out of jail free card this time.”

“Your magnanimity is much appreciated,” Luka assured with a slight dip of his head.

“You’d better appreciate it.” Adrien rolled his eyes and smirked. “Next time, I’m making you grovel.”

“And it will serve me right.” Luka gave another bob of his head.

“Right,” Adrien affirmed. “…And while we’re on the subject, it’s not my fault that I like dessert-y drinks. I never get dessert.”

“Fair,” Luka agreed.

“I can’t help it that I like a little sugar with my alcohol,” Adrien continued in his own defence.

“Rather, you like a little alcohol with your sugar,” Luka snickered, feeling like they were back on solid enough ground to joke.

Adrien steamrolled forward, looking off to the side. “…just like I can’t help if there are certain boys I’d like to kiss.”

Luka’s brain stopped working. Did Adrien just…? Did Adrien mean…?

And, if so, what was Luka supposed to do with that?

Before Luka could really process that revelation, Adrien pressed on, “Besides, it’s Rose’s fault for introducing me to Pink Squirrels. Also, something Rose told me: apparently, it’s possible to be something called ‘biromantic’ while still being heterosexual…. And that’s as much as I think I should blurt out without having ‘I’m drunk’ as an excuse. But there you go; cards on the table,” Adrien spit out rapidly, twisting his ring round and round his finger. “Let’s talk about something else. I said I was going to talk your ear off about what a great musician you are, didn’t I? Has anyone told you how wonderful you are today?” The words spewed out of Adrien’s mouth, and Luka struggled to keep up.

“Wait.” Luka placed a hand on Adrien’s upper arm.

Adrien turned his head to smile the fakest, most personable smile he had in him. “How’s your girlfriend doing? I haven’t talked to her much lately,” he inquired civilly, as if speaking to a business acquaintance at a cocktail party.

Luka groaned softly in frustration.

Raoul approached and looked like he was about to say something teasingly, but he felt the mood between the two from a meter away and thought better of it, setting their drinks on the counter with a cordial nod.

“Oh, look,” Adrien observed cheerily. “Something to put in my mouth to shut me up.”

Luka choked on air as inappropriate suggestions rose in his mind.

“Before I destroy everything,” Adrien added under his breath, but then his joviality was back.

“I drink to you.” Adrien lifted his glass to Luka with a practiced smile covering his internal panic. He looked away and began to sip at the pink concoction.

“So…we’re not going to talk about this?” Luka sighed, ignoring his scotch for the time being.

Adrien shrugged. “What?—Here? Now? No. I’m supposed to be talking about your music for a bit before you have to go back to your girlfriend. Besides, there’s nothing to talk about,” he answered a touch sullenly down into his drink.

“You just told me you wanted to kiss me,” Luka laughed, on the brink of hysteria but covering it up brilliantly. “And we’re not going to discuss that?”

“I never said I wanted to kiss you,” Adrien corrected, still not looking at Luka. “I said I couldn’t help it if I wanted to kiss certain boys. I was talking about Nino.”

Luka’s mind ground to a sudden halt as he tried to figure out if that was true or merely a diversion.

“Because I’m a home-wrecking slut,” Adrien laughed with a sweet smile that proved jarring in its juxtaposition with the words it accompanied.

Luka’s hand squeezed Adrien’s arm tighter. “No, you’re not.”

“Fine,” Adrien relented. “I’m an aspiring home-wrecking slut. I guess I can’t claim the title until I actually wreck something, but…I want to wreck them. Isn’t that bad enough?”

Part of Luka’s mind thought that, yes, this was very, very bad indeed. Adrien wasn’t looking for a relationship. As per usual, he was seeking affection and attention, and he was coming back to where he’d found it in abundance two years prior…but, this time, Luka’s supply couldn’t meet Adrien’s demand. It was a tricky situation, and Luka could tell that between Marinette and Adrien, his own heart was going to walk out of this one in tatters…if it could walk at all once those two were done with it.

Still….

“What if Nino wants you to kiss him?”

Adrien slowly turned an incredulous glare on Luka. “Please don’t patronize me. Why the hell would Nino want to kiss me? He’s in a relationship with the girl of his dreams. He’s been crazy in love with his girlfriend for years. Why would he risk messing that up for me?”

“…You still don’t think you’re worth anything, do you?” Luka realized, his stomach going sour.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously, I’m athletic, and, on the outside, I’m gorgeous, but inside I’m a monster. I’m not worthless, but I’m sure as hell not going to get picked over Mar—over Alya.”

“Angel,” Luka whispered, conveying so much meaning in so few syllables.

Adrien looked up, his heart fluttering at the old nickname. He’d been “Ariel” in the months since their reunion. It had been a long time since Luka had called him Angel or Perfect Fifth in that tender, all-embracing way of his.

“Adrien,” Luka corrected. “You are not the monster. The monster is the ugliness inside of yourself that you’re fighting against…and everyone has something inside themselves like that…even Alya.”

Adrien found himself unable to speak, so he gave Luka a wavering yet grateful smile instead.

“Besides,” Luka shrugged, picking up his scotch and taking a sip. “There are so many good things about you that you didn’t even mention.”

Adrien was about to challenge Luka to name one when Luka continued, “Like your beautifully awful sense of humor and your virtuosic piano abilities and your encyclopedic knowledge of cheese.”

Adrien burst out laughing as the tense atmosphere was obliterated. “You still…say the sweetest things,” he chortled.

Luka shrugged. “Eh. I know where your buttons are…just like how you always have your fingers on mine.”

Adrien’s laughter died down, and a tentative smile settled onto his lips. “…Sometimes I wonder if I still know where they are or if they’ve shifted in the time we’ve been apart. You still seem like the same you, but…a year and a half is a long time. I feel like I’ve probably missed something important.”

Luka took another sip of his scotch, considering before answering, “Yes and no. I’m different, but I’m still me. All the important bits are there…and, as for the rest, we have plenty of time to catch up now that your father isn’t being a psycho and keeping us apart. If I have new ‘buttons’, I’m confident you’ll find them and start pressing them eventually…probably sooner rather than later.”

“Good to know you believe in me,” Adrien hummed and then paused. “…Are we okay?”

He cast a nervous, sidelong glance at Luka. “I didn’t ruin everything, did I?”

Luka frowned. “No. Of course not. I mean—” He winced and hastily corrected, “—of course we’re okay.”

Adrien blew out a slow breath. “Okay. Good. Sorry. As I’m sure you’ll remember, I kind of suck at the whole self-worth thing, and I’m constantly worrying that people are going to stop caring about me overnight if I make a mistake, so…and I know things are kind of odd between us with the whole…well. Me being in love with your girlfriend, so… And probably me bringing up wanting to wreck things between Alya and Nino so that I could kiss him was…”

“Adrien?” Luka bumped Adrien’s arm gently. “It’s okay. I say this in the most loving, accepting way possible, but…I know you’re a mess. I accept that you are a screwed-up human being with crazy, ugly stuff going on in your life…. I still like you and want to be your friend. We’re okay.”

Adrien studied Luka’s face for a minute before nodding solemnly. “Okay. You should probably be canonized as the patron saint of patience and radical acceptance, but I’m really glad to hear that you feel that way.”

Luka’s lips pulled into a lopsided smirk as he raised his glass. “To friendship and radical acceptance.”

Adrien clinked his glass against Luka’s and drank.

“…So…” Adrien led in after a measure of silence, his voice gliding up to land on the note.

Luka cocked an eyebrow.

“The last song you guys played. That was one of yours too, right?” Adrien angled his body slightly away from the bar counter and more towards Luka as Adrien’s desire to close himself off dissipated.

Luka nodded. “Yeah. Thoughts?”

“You’re a genius.” Adrien shrugged. “Second coming of Mozart.”

Luka scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Blasphemy. Seriously, what did you think? No flattery. I respect your musical opinion more than almost anyone, so please give it to me.”

“I am being serious,” Adrien assured. “Your sound is so unique. People are going to go crazy for you once you get some more exposure. I honestly can’t offer you a critique because you’re legitimately just that good, Luka.”

The earnest adoration in Adrien’s eyes and voice turned Luka’s legs to jelly. This was exactly what he needed to patch up the wounds of inadequacy his relationship with Marinette had been inflicting upon him.

“Careful, Ariel. You’re going to give me a big head,” he chuckled, leaning on the bar, gravitating closer.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “If anyone deserves to have a big head, it’s you. Seriously. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Okay,” Luka relented. “If you won’t give me a critique, at least tell me what specifically you liked so I can do something similar in the future.”

“In the last song?” Adrien took a sip of his drink and then licked the creamy remnants from his top lip. “The bass line. Particularly, about halfway through, that descending chromatic. Ugh.” Adrien’s eyelids fluttered in ecstasy. “It made me melt. Nothing makes me go all tingly faster than those low notes. It’s like aural pornography.”

“N-Noted,” Luka gulped, suddenly getting all manner of ideas that he had no business entertaining. He did not need to know how to musically seduce Adrien Agreste. “What else?”

Adrien bit his lip. “There’s this leitmotif that’s been showing up in your work lately.”

Luka shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what Adrien was referring to and not wanting to own up to its inspiration.

“It’s not even the main theme, and sometimes it only pops up once in a piece for just a second, but it’s pervasive throughout your recent oeuvre. It’s the same sequence of serpentine, kind of…gypsy, tarantella, Habanera, Anitra’s Dance…sort of played as a mix between a tango and a waltz. You know what I’m talking about?” Adrien eyed Luka expectantly.

Luka shifted again, taking a sip of his scotch before replying in an offhanded way. “Oh. The Siren Leitmotif. It’s…been stuck in my head lately…kind of driving me nuts. I didn’t realize that it was ending up in…well, everything.”

“Siren Leitmotif?” Adrien echoed with an arched eyebrow.

Luka cleared his throat. “You know how Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique musically tells the story of a musician’s unrequited love and how it gradually drives him mad?”

Adrien, familiar with the piece, nodded.

Luka continued, “And you know how throughout the piece the idea of his beloved is represented by the same repeating musical phrase? I guess the Siren Leitmotif is kind of like that.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

The leitmotif was Marinette.

Suddenly, Adrien didn’t care for the tune as much as he had before.

“It’s…I like it. It’s very…exotic,” Adrien did his best to cover the abrupt turn his mood had taken. “…It doesn’t sound very much like Marinette, though—at least, not to me,” he hurriedly amended.

But then, Adrien reasoned, Adrien wasn’t Marinette’s boyfriend. Chat Noir and Marinette had only made out once. Phenomenal though it had been, it wasn’t actually a lot to go on. How would Adrien really know what Marinette was like intimately?

A terrible realization: Were Marinette and Luka sleeping together?! They must be. They’d been going out for two months, and Luka was crazy about Marinette. Surely, at this point in time, Marinette had fallen wildly in love with Luka—how could she not have?

“Because it isn’t,” Luka replied, cutting into Adrien’s downward mental spiral.

Adrien blinked, backtracking. “Because it isn’t…what?”

Because the Siren Leitmotif wasn’t…Marinette? But then…who? Who the hell else could it be? Who had managed to get into Luka’s head, capture his attention enough to subconsciously permeate into Luka’s music? Who could—?

“Siren,” Adrien whispered. “As in…a mermaid?”

Luka frowned but then nodded.

Slowly, a vindicated grin spread across Adrien’s lips. “As in…Disney’s The Little Mermaid…Ariel?”

Luka’s face went ashen and then flushed. He looked away, bringing his glass up to his mouth, hiding behind it.

“You know,” Adrien giggled in glee, “for the longest time, I thought that nickname was a Shakespeare’s The Tempest reference, but…”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” Luka muttered into his drink, his shoulders scrunching up in horrified mortification with a touch of dread.

“I’m your siren,” Adrien continued to laugh, suddenly over the moon because Luka was thinking about him. He’d gotten into Luka’s head, under Luka’s skin.

Luka sighed audibly, setting down his glass and running a hand through his hair.

Adrien turned his body so that he was facing Luka full on. “Don’t make that face,” he cooed.

“I’m not making a face,” Luka grumbled. “What face?”

Adrien gave Luka’s nose a poke. “The face you make when you wish you had a guitar in your hands so that you didn’t have to talk.”

Luka lifted an eyebrow. “I have a face for that?”

Adrien nodded, the teasing coming out of his voice to be replaced by softness. “Yeah, but you usually don’t make it at me. At least you didn’t…before. I guess things have changed.”

Luka chewed on his bottom lip, reluctantly meeting Adrien’s uncertain gaze. “Not as much as you seem to think.”

“…I thought you were over me,” Adrien admitted.

“In all fairness? I thought I was too…until you ran smack into me at that party two months ago.” Luka shook his head. “I mean, I knew a part of me would always have feelings for you, but…I didn’t anticipate…” His brow furrowed deeply. “These past few months have been emotionally confusing as we’ve become friends again and you’ve reminded me of all the things time and distance helped me to forget.”

Adrien took a step closer, his thigh brushing Luka’s. “…Am I driving you nuts?” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on Luka’s chest and slowly trailing up to Luka’s shoulder.

“Cards on the table?” Luka breathed in frustration. “Yes. Between you and Marinette, I am going insane. I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“Hey, I have a leitmotif,” Adrien chuckled, “and it is sexy and alluring and vibrant and fierce and…and that’s how this really amazing guy thinks of me? You have made my week. Yes, I’m amused. Are you kidding? I’m freaking ecstatic. Luka, I have felt so low this year. I’ve felt ugly and-and like a total dumpster fire. I’ve felt unsalvageable, but…God, your music is beautiful, and that theme is supposed to be me? I feel…” Finally the emotions caught up with Adrien, and he got choked up. “…so good right now. Genuinely good.”

Luka’s mouth (which had dropped open around the part where Adrien had called Luka amazing) flapped open and closed impotently. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words weren’t coming together. He really wished he had a guitar so that he could play Adrien what he was feeling.

Adrien smiled, patting Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. You can play it for me later,” he assured.

Luka nodded. “You think I’m amazing?”

Adrien cracked up a little. “Luka, I legitimately think you’re the second coming of Mozart. What higher praise do you want from me?”

“Snap,” Luka chuckled giddily. “You were serious about that.”

“Yes. Yes, I was.” Adrien rolled his eyes.

Luka’s entire face went carnelian.

“It’s so easy to make you happy,” Adrien observed with a hum of amusement. He rubbed his knee up Luka’s thigh and snatched Luka’s hand, spiriting it to Adrien’s lips for a butterfly kiss. “And you’re so cute when you blush.”

Luka’s flush deepened as both his tongue and his stomach tied themselves into knots.

“You’re sure I can’t steal you for the night?” Adrien hummed, wanting nothing more than to go back to the Liberty for shared music and deep, meaningful chats and snuggling in Luka’s bed and maybe even a kiss or four or six or eight.

Luka gave a little gasp of realization and tried to take a step back, but Adrien followed. “I don’t…Ariel, this isn’t just platonic flirting anymore.”

Adrien thought about it for a minute before agreeing. “…No. No, it’s not.”

“I can’t do this,” Luka breathed plaintively.

Adrien bit his lip, studying Luka’s face.

Luka’s normally clear blue eyes were cloudy as they begged, “Please don’t make me do this” but at the same time whispered, “You could make me do this…if you really wanted to”.

Adrien’s fingers dipped into Luka’s jacket pocket and pulled out a guitar pick. He stepped back to a reasonable distance and began to roll the pick back and forth over his knuckles, between his fingers.

He looked down at the remains of his drink in the glass on the counter and sullenly considered his situation. He felt frustrated that he’d missed out when Luka had been available and very much in love with the oblivious and confused Adrien. He felt cheated now that Luka was with Marinette so that Adrien couldn’t be with either of them. He was jealous. Marinette didn’t need Luka. If she didn’t want Adrien, why couldn’t she be with any of the dozen other guys who had crushes on her? Did it have to be Luka?

He turned the question back on himself: Did it have to be Luka? Did it have to be Marinette? Could he somehow extract himself from the situation and figure out how to be okay? He’d been doing so much better in respect to his mental health the past few months. Did he really need to complicate things with his relationships?

No…but he wanted to. He wanted love and affection—Luka’s kisses and fond smiles, Marinette’s thoughtful gestures and adoring looks, kind words and praise and light touches and—if Adrien couldn’t have Marinette, he could at least have Luka, couldn’t he? Marinette didn’t need Luka. And Adrien could be good to him. Would be good to him. There would be other men for Marinette, and Luka would have Adrien, so no one was really missing out if Adrien took it upon himself to…rearrange the relationships between them…right?

“But aren’t you doing it already?” Adrien hummed.

Luka’s face lost all color.

“I mean…the Siren Leitmotif has been showing up in your work these past two months, hasn’t it?” he challenged. “Even without me doing anything to actively encourage things between us, I’ve been on your mind, haven’t I?”

“Adrien,” Luka sighed, gripping at the roots of his hair. “Look. I realize that I’ve been unfaithful to Marinette in my thoughts, but there’s a big difference between…”

Adrien let the guitar pick fly out of his hand. “Whoops.”

Luka abruptly went silent as Adrien dropped into a feline-like crouch to retrieve the guitar pick and then slowly rolled up, leading with his behind in a way that gave Luka all kinds of bad ideas.

Adrien turned back around and smiled impishly as he purred, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Adrien,” Luka groaned at the object of his desire’s deliberate teasing.

“Luka,” Adrien echoed, playing innocent.

Luka shook his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he accused. “And I’m asking you to stop.”

Adrien slipped the guitar pick back into Luka’s pocket and looked away with a pout.

“Adrien,” Luka called firmly, taking Adrien by the shoulders and forcing him to look at Luka. “Please. We both know that you don’t really want what you’re pretending that you want.”

Adrien frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Luka explained patiently, his hands moving up to Adrien’s face, “that you don’t really want to seduce me. Didn’t you just tell me a little bit ago that you weren’t sexually attracted to other guys when you alluded to being biromantic heterosexual? Haven’t you told me before that you’re not interested in a relationship right now while you’re not emotionally well? Adrien, you don’t want to sleep with me. You don’t want to be with me. You don’t want to grow old together or build a life with me or take care of sick kids or figure out how to finance buying a house. You’re not thinking of any of that.”

Luka’s voice was soft and not accusing or angry or bitter, but there was a pain in Luka’s eyes that cut through Adrien, filling him with guilt anyway.

He was doing what Marinette had done to him to Luka. All of the sudden, Adrien felt vile, lower than dirt.

“Luka, I’m sorry. I—”

Luka cut him off with a finger pressed to Adrien’s lips. “Shh. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s really not,” Adrien wanted to argue.

“I know you’re going through a lot,” Luka assured. “I know you just want attention and affection. Things, first with Ladybug and then Marinette, haven’t been easy for you, and even though your father is doing a better job in recent months, there’s still a big affection deficit in your life that’s going to take a long time to fill. I know that you don’t mean to hurt me and that you weren’t thinking about what effect your actions would have on me at all, really. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Luka ran a thumb over Adrien’s lips, eyes pinning Adrien like a butterfly. “We have three options. One, you get one hundred percent serious about me.” Luka paused to let his words sink in. “Two, we stay just friends with normal levels of platonic flirting, and I keep trying to maintain a hold on my feelings for you.” Another solemn pause for reflection. “Three,” Luka winced. “we don’t see each other anymore.”

Adrien’s hand flew to Luka’s wrist, gripping tightly. His bottom lip trembled. He shook his head. He couldn’t even verbalize a response.

Luka smiled reassuringly, giving Adrien’s cheek a comforting pat. “Well, then, behave, okay? Don’t tempt me because I’m not a cheater. I want to keep being around you because you make me feel genuinely good too. You’re a precious friend to me, Adrien. I don’t want to lose that again. Having you ripped away from me once was hard enough.”

Adrien shook his head, feeling very much afraid. “You were wrong…. I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” He couldn’t get over the sinking feeling that he was going to wreck everything once more.

“Hey.” Luka’s thumb gently stroked Adrien’s cheek. “Shhh. Calm down. It’s going to be fine. Just breathe. Don’t panic. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”

Adrien took a deep breath, body shaking. He nodded. “Sorry about the mood swings. I swear I’m fine. I just…”

“Close your eyes,” Luka instructed.

Adrien frowned but did as asked. A second later he felt gentle kisses placed on his eyelids, Luka’s breath warm on his face as Luka whispered, “You’re okay, Perfect Fifth.”

Adrien’s grip on Luka’s forearm tightened. “Luka…” His eyes fluttered open. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good,” he promised.

Luka smiled. “I know you will. I’ll do my best on my end as well.”

A cacophony of texts began to pour in on Luka’s phone, snapping the two out of the moment.

“The hell?” Luka frowned as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry.”

A text came in on Adrien’s phone too.

Luka cursed under his breath as he read, “WTH do u think ur doing?!” from Juleka followed by an onslaught of question marks and exclamation points sent individually so that Luka could not ignore her.

“It’s my sister. She disapproves,” Luka sighed, typing back, “we’re just talking”, “chill”.

“Apparently, from Nino’s angle, it looked like you kissed me for real,” Adrien groaned. “He’s freaking out.”

Luka ran a hand back and forth through his hair vigorously. “Yeah, he’s coming over here.”

Adrien cursed softly, grabbing Luka’s scotch glass. “I’m going to need this,” he grumbled, downing the rest of the contents with a wince before turning to face Nino.

“What the hell, Mec?!” Nino hissed, taking Adrien by the arm and tugging him. “Have you completely lost your mind? You’ve completely lost your mind!”

“Nino,” Luka interceded. “This is a misunderstanding. I just kissed him on the cheek. It wasn’t—”

“—You. Don’t even start with me,” Nino warned, waving a finger in Luka’s face. “I like you, Luka, but you’re screwing around with two of my best friends. You are on thin ice.”

“Nino,” Adrien sighed, pulling on Nino’s arm. “I’m the one trying to seduce him. You should be yelling at me.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “You are having a quarter-life crisis. You and I will have a talk later when you’re sober, Adrien, but, for now, he’s taking advantage of you, and—”

“—Are you sure about that?” Adrien scoffed. “Because I’m having to do a heck of a lot of the work, and I don’t feel like he’s deriving any benefit from me. Maybe someone should teach him how to take advantage better.”

Nino gritted his teeth. “Adrien—”

“—Okay.” Luka stepped in. “This is not a productive conversation. Maybe we need to call a time out and discuss things later when we’re feeling more level-headed.”

Adrien and Nino both snorted.

“Adrien, Nino’s just concerned because he cares about you,” Luka reasoned calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “Nino, yes, Adrien is having a rough time lately, but he’s not a child. Now, if we could all take a deep breath?”

Begrudgingly, Nino and Adrien inhaled slowly in tandem.

“Good. Nino?”

Nino cocked an eyebrow, not letting go of his attitude entirely, lest Luka mistakenly think he’d been forgiven.

“I want to make sure Adrien gets home safely. Since I don’t think you’d approve of me escorting him, could you please take him or see that he gets into an Agreste vehicle?”

Nino shrugged. “I was planning on it.”

“Good,” Luka repeated. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check in with the others.”

“Wait.” Adrien reached out a hand as Luka made to go.

Luka read the anxiety on Adrien’s face and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he assured. “We’re good. I’ll text you later?”

Adrien nodded, conjuring up a smile in answer.

Nino sighed as they watched Luka walk away. “Mec…I understand that your whole life is exploding this year, but couldn’t you have picked any other guy? Literally any other guy? Why do you have to set yourself up to get hurt?”

Adrien shrugged, looping his arm through Nino’s. “Literally any other guy?”

“Yes,” Nino insisted.

Adrien chuckled, leaning in to lick Nino’s cheek. “Don’t you think Alya will mind sharing?”

Nino cursed under his breath. “Dude. Don’t make me bite you.”

“There’s a snapping turtle joke in there somewhere,” Adrien mused.

Nino shook his head, pulling Adrien towards the exit. “You keep me up nights worrying about you.”

Adrien was silent for a few steps before answering. “…Sorry…. Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Nino assured, bumping Adrien’s hip with his own.

( Now, who clicked on the link in "I drink to you"? Those of you who did were confused, weren't you? Unless you're familiar with Wagner's leitmotifs in Tristan und Isolde. Adrien is making a joke that he doesn't expect anyone else to get. In the opera, Tristan and Isolde think that they're drinking poison, but Isolde's maid has put a love potion in the cup instead. Tristan drinks first, and then Isolde snatches the cup from him, claiming that half is for her. She says, "I drink to you" (as the leitmotif in the link plays), and they fall in love instead of dying. Their unfortunate, star-crossed love dooms them to death anyway. Adrien is being melodramatic and seeing parallels between his own star-crossed, hopeless situation and the opera. This is just a little piece of subtle character psychology that I snuck in...until you know it's there, and then it's ham-fisted and glaring...but that should give you some background for what's going through Adrien's head as he says the line.)

#Adrien Agreste/Luka Couffaine #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Lukadrien #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Flirting #Teasing #Confusion #Temptation #Friendship #Music Nerds #Mikau's Writings #A Little Night Music (Eine Kleine Nachtmusik)

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trade-baby-blues · 5 years

Text

Santa Baby

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader

Word Count: 1265

Warnings: second hand embarrassment

A/N: I'm so sorry I've been MIA for awhile I've been feeling very Nihilistic about my life and my future but!! We're getting back on track folks! Christmas in June! This was requested eons ago by @thefanficfaerie. Hopefully you enjoy it even if it is half a year late. Also sorry it’s not edited yet; I was so excited that I finally wrote something again that I wanted to post it before I forgot about it and it sits in my docs for another six months lol

_____________

It was difficult to say who was more excited about Christmas shopping, Joanna or Jim. Even after all the time he'd spent in San Francisco, the sheer size and business of everything still filled Jim with awe compared to the flat open plains of Iowa. He tried to pull Jo into every store they passed, but she had one thing on her mind: Santa. The pair rounded the corner, Jo stomping forward and dragging Jim by the hand, and came face to face with an artificial winter wonderland.

Fake snow spilled across the floor of the mall and Jim swore the temperature dropped the closer they got to the display. Jim didn't even know where to look. Everywhere his eyes went he saw something new: the red and green wrapped presents spilling from a bag beside the dais. The pine trees so crisp and strong he could almost smell them. The man perched on the middle of it all, cheeks as rosy as the carols always said. Most of all, though, Jim noticed the angel stood at the bottom of the steps, leading kids up to Jolly Old St. Nick.

"Come ooooon," Jo groaned, tugging with all her weight on Jim's hand. He blinked at her, so lost in your beauty that, for a moment, he forgot where he was.

"You know, Santa only gives presents to good kids."

"I'm the BEST kid. Daddy always says so!"

"We'll, Dr. McCoy is the smartest guy I know, so that checks out. Just don't tell him I said that." Jo ran her fingers across her lips as if she were zipping them, and Jim winked at her.

As the two waited in line, Jim tried desperately to look anywhere but at you. He looked at the other mall patrons, at the children bouncing eagerly as they waited to talk to Santa, he looked at your smile as you waved the next kid on and the way your hair was framing your face perfectly from underneath that elf cap - a cap he was sure would look ridiculous on anyone else but somehow made your smile brighter and your face younger and -

A sharp tug at his arm made Jim look down. Jo stared up at him with the intensity only a five year old on a mission could muster. "Do you like her?"

"What," Jim laughed, trying to hide his nerves. "No, no I was just...admiring the decorations."

"It's okay if you like her. I won't tell anyone. I'm really good at keeping secrets, like how Daddy really likes to watch that show about old ladies. Goldy Girl."

"Golden Girls," Jim asked, already plotting how to use this information against Bones.

"Yeah! That one! I haven't told anyone about it!"

"You just told me."

"Ooh, are we sharing secrets," you asked, crouching down so you could get to Joanna's level. "Because I've got a secret for you if you want to trade."

"My Uncle Jim thinks you're pretty!"

"I didn't," Jim started by addressing you before quickly turning to Jo. "I didn't say that." His head swiveled to you again as he tried to figure out to remedy this situation. "I didn't say that."

You closed your eyes for a moment, not letting the smile fall from your lips as you tried to center yourself and find the few scraps of patience you had left. "Well, Miss Jo. You told me your secret how about I tell you mine?" Jo nodded her head eagerly, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. "I've heard from a very reliable source that you are on the good list. In fact, you've been so good that Santa had to make a separate list just for you."

Jo's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Why don't you go ask him yourself," you asked, holding your hand out. She took it happily, skipping up to Santa's chair.

You became acutely aware of Jim's presence at your side and you tried to ignore the heat of it, of his gaze. "I swear I'm not just another sleazy old man who thinks the elf costume is sexy. Not that it's not sexy, because it is - you are. I'm not into that so you don't have to worry." Jim closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was standing on the bridge of the Enterprise somewhere in deep space. He wasn't sure it would be far enough to escape the embarrassment he felt.

"Not into what? Sexy elves or women?"

"Either," Jim said too fast to really process the question. "I mean I love women and- and elves I, uh...This..," Jim laughed, if just to keep himself from screaming, "I think this conversation got away from me."

By some last act of kindness from a merciful god, Joanna bounded up, tugging on Jim's hand and pulling him away from what was officially the most painful experience of his life, this coming from the man who looked death in the eye and came out victorious. But, even as Jo dragged Jim's body away, his mind stayed with you. He knew he had to see you again, if only to correct the image you had now formed of him first as a creeper then as a flustered schoolboy.

It took a few days to form a coherent plan and another two to convince Sulu that Jim didn't have any nefarious plans for his and Ben's daughter and that it was all perfectly (probably) legal. It wasn't until he stood in line clutching Demora's hand that he realized this plan was ridiculous. He had no way of knowing if you were working today.

The weight of his recklessness bore down on him as Jim and Demora's approached the elf. She turned and his heart fell through his stomach. She was pleasant enough to look at, but she wasn't you. She didn't put the stars in the sky and warmth in Jim's heart.

"Christ," he muttered, running his hands down his face as Demora clambered onto Santa's lap.

"I think he prefers Kris, actually." Jim's eyes snapped to you, taken aback slightly by the turtleneck and jeans you wore. He wondered what it said about him that he expected to find you in uniform.

"What are you doing here," he asked for lack of something better to say.

You shrugged. "My shift just ended, and I've never had a good sense of self-preservation so I figured I'd come talk to the guy who's stalking me."

"I'm not stalking you." Jim tried to remember anything from the conversations he'd practiced in anticipation of seeing you again but the mere quirk of a smile ghosting across your lips was enough to occupy all of his mind, precluding any chance of an elegant reply.

You nodded slowly. "Mhm, so you didn't kidnap a different child just to come see me again?"

"Who? Demora? No, no I didn't kidnap her, though don't ask her dad, because he'd probably say I did for the joke of it."

"Not very confidence inspiring."

"Then let's start over." You glanced at Jim from the corner of your eye, shifting the coat in your arms but not speaking. He licked his lips and wondered vaguely why his mouth felt so dry. "I'm James Kirk." He offered his hand for you to shake.

"Tell me, James Kirk," you said, after offering him your name in return, "if you were in Demora's place what would you ask Santa for?"

"Nothing." It was the first thing Jim had said with confidence in the past week. "I think I just found it."

____

Tags: @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin@goingknowherewastaken @thefanficfaerie @brooke-taylor0323 @slither-in-a-half @cuddlememerrick @reading-in-moonlight @resistance-is-futile81 @the-witching-hours12-3

#star trek imagine #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #captain kirk imagine #captain kirk x reader

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7deadlycinderellas · 5 years

Text

Come the Summer

(Sequel to the First of Spring)

AO3 link

Arya had just finished scraping the pan free of egg bits when Shireen comes to her and tells her she’s being summoned.

“What for?” Arya asks, confused. Renly has only on rare occasion summoned them, and he was not an early riser.

Shireen shakes her head. She has grown up lovely, though none of the young men of the court seem to have noticed, even though she carries with her name Dragonstone.

“I’m not supposed to say. I’m supposed to bring Gendry too.”

“He’s already on his way to the forge, I was going to join him.”

They were finishing up a helm for one of the new guard recruits. It was nearly done, but they really should get on it, and Arya doesn’t appreciate having to delay it.

“I’ll go get him too,” Shireen says before taking off, knowing that Arya can make it to the castle on her own.

Arya slips on her boots, slides Needle into its sheath, throws on her cloak (it’s raining lightly), and makes her trek up to the castle with no idea what could possibly be waiting for her.

She pulls her hood back down under the cover of the castle entrance. She tells one the guards who she is, and he makes to lead her into the keep.

Arya had no idea what to expect, but the last thing in the world she thought she would see were Father and Mother.

Suddenly, running to embrace them both, Arya feels like a child again, as if she hasn’t been married and on her own for five years. She has written them of course, extensively, as she has to her siblings, but being here and feeling them hold her tight, is different.

“Why are you here? And how come you didn’t send a message?”

“Oh, we were about to send a proper letter,” Mother starts, fussing with the straps of Arya’s tunic.

“But we had business to attend to in King’s Landing anyway, so we thought we’d surprise you.”

Business? Arya wonders. It must have something to do with the King’s recent marriage to that Tyrell girl. She hadn’t paid the news much attention, wouldn’t have felt it her concern at all, but the girl’s brother was a frequent visitor to Storm’s End.

“Is this about…” Arya starts to ask when another guard leads in a confused looking Gendry. His expression slips suddenly seeing Arya’s parents. His demeanor among highborns other than her had always ran the gamut, from his head ducked low in deference, to his eyes steeled and penetrating. She steps back and grabs his hand, hoping to steady him.

“Officially, we’re here to invite the both of you to Bran’s wedding. It’s a bit short notice, but he really wants you there.”

Suddenly Arya feels a weight lift from her stomach.

“They finally decided to take the jump?”

Shortly after him and Robb had returned to Winterfell, Meera and her father had come as well, under the guise of renewing House Reed’s oath of fealty. Unofficially, it had allowed the possibility of Bran’s betrothal to Meera to be laid out. Secretly, Arya had wondered if Meera even had a part in the discussion, but it would have been easy enough for her to just forget about Bran and keep deep in the Neck. Sansa had wrote her that by the last day the two were in Winterfell, that Bran had led Meera up the outside of the library tower and onto the roof, and the other girl had seemed more than happy to follow.

That had been nearly five years ago.

Bran’s letters had confessed to Arya, that while he had been besotted by Meera immediately, neither of them were truly in a rush to wed. Arya had nearly been jealous, Gendry and her having had to be so careful for so long.

“Your brother has finished training with Ser Rodrick,” Father explains, “And we’ve discussed arrangements with regards to inheritance. They both agreed it was time.”

“When are you leaving?” Gendry interrupts to ask.

Ned tells them, “We’re leaving Storm’s End in three days time, just long enough for everyone to rest up.”

Arya and Gendry turn to meet each other’s gaze.

“Do we have anything that will take longer?”

“That stupid helm should be done as soon as I can get that damned faceplate to fit.”

“Still?” Arya rolls her eyes.

“Dot?”

“On the road. Will that jackass who got ten pounds of nails at once be back?”

“I can dodge him or pass him off Kyn, he owes me anyway.”

“No mason appointments right?”

Gendry shakes his head, and suddenly Arya realizes they’re being watched as though they aren’t speak Common. She clears her throat.

“Go and try to fix that godsforsaken faceplate. I’ll bring us lunch and try to help.’

After he leaves, Arya returns her eyes again to her parents. It’s so strange having them near again.

“I should be getting back.”

Her mother steps forward, her expression borderline unreadable, as it had been through much of Arya’s childhood.

“I’ll walk back with you.”

Arya takes her mother’s arm as they walk out of the palace and up the small hill. The rain seems to have stopped, she really should do the wash later if it sticks. She realizes that Mother is glancing around at the ground, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the broken wheels and other debris.

“It’s like looking at your childhood bedchambers,” Lady Catelyn comments idly. Arya smothers a comeback. She had not been a neat child, and had been the subject of frequent admonitions that it was not the servants’ jobs to keep her cloak and books off the floor and her boots free of mud and snow. Arya feels her ears grow pink.

“It may not be much, but it is home.”

When they reach the house, Lady Catelyn stands in the doorway looking around as Arya steps into the cellar. Soft white cheese, bread and blackberry preserves, enough for the two of them. She pauses, then splits off a piece of the bread and offers it to her mother.

She takes it and eats it cautiously.

“Why does everyone seem to think I might accidentally poison them? Even Sansa didn’t know the secret of baking bread.”

That does makes Catelyn laugh.

There’s a long moment where Arya is considering.

“I...I don’t really, either of us, have anything really appropriate to wear to a wedding.”

“Sansa’s offered to take care of it.” Catelyn assures her, “She remembered that you only brought a single dress with you when you left.”

Arya’s ears burn at the reminder of how she’d left her home. Seeking a diversion, she remembers a book Shireen had lent her a fortnite before. She reaches and takes the book from its place on the table and hands it to her mother.

“Can you return this to Shireen? I meant to give it to her earlier, we’re done with it.”

Catelyn takes the book.

“It’s good to know your father’s efforts in educating Gendry were not wasted.”

Arya feels her stomach pinch in Gendry’s defense. Father had gone to great efforts to ensure Gendry and all his siblings could read and do their sums. Gendry often brushed it off, and Arya ended up reading to him from Shireen’s books more often than not, but he wasn’t dumb.

Her desire to defend him is cut short when they step outside, and Arya realizes that the mason who had come a few days before had finished the first layers in the circle completely and the rain had filled it.

“Hell, give me a minute,” Arya says, climbing the side.

“Can you hand me the bucket?”

It’s not too much, but if she doesn’t do this it will start attracting insects.

When the two walk down the hill as a pair, Catelyn asks her about the roof.

“We’re in the process of adding another room above us, but we can’t afford to do it all at once. And if the ring is complete, rain gets trapped. I should find something to cover it in the time being.”

She doesn’t ask about why they wanted to add on. The little cottage had been plenty enough for the two of them. Then several months ago, Arya had missed her moon tea for several days, and they’d been forced to consider.

And they’d decided it wouldn’t be the worst time.

Gendry, however, had immediately jumped onto the logistics. They might be able to squeeze an infant in a cradle in with them, but once it began to grow it just wouldn’t do. And Gendry had insisted that they would not want to deal with the masons and the plans and the scraping and moving when she was with child or caring for a very young infant, so they should get it done as soon as they could.

Arya was still grappling with the idea of being responsible for a tiny person, and Gendry was stuck on his own avenue. No wonder the others in Flea Bottom had called him the Bull.

Arya and her mother part ways at the crossroads outside the palace, and she goes forth to bring Gendry his lunch.

Later that night, they’re in bed going over what they need to do before leaving.

“What are we going to bring for a gift? I understand that sort of thing is traditional.”

Arya purses her lips in thought.

“We could give them that half barrel of blackberry wine down below.”

Gendry groans. They hadn’t known what to do with the massive oversupply of berries that the vine produced, until one of the fishwives gave Arya instructions of how to mash and ferment them.

They’d both been looking forward to it too.

“There was something I wanted to make Meera too, I’ll do that tomorrow at the forge.”

She sighs deeply. She’s happy to be getting to see everyone again, but…

“I wish being around your parents didn’t make me feel so small.”

Gendry’s rolled over with his back facing her when she says this.

Arya snorts.

“It’s not just you. Even just walking back here with my mother today made me feel like I was going to be scolded for getting muddy.”

Gendry rolls back to face the ceiling and Arya reaches over and pats him on the shoulder.

“The things we do for family.”

Leaving in three days is actually easy, the two of them have shockingly little to pack. The only reason Arya even chooses to take Needle is it’s pretty much the only thing they own that might be worth stealing.

Arya retrieves Sandy from the stables. The pale brown mule had been a belated wedding gift from Mya, but they had no place to keep her, and ultimately she had ended up just another of Mya’s pod. She fits both her and Gendry with only minor discomfort though, and brays in impatience when the horses need to be rested more often than her.

“We’re just going to pass through King’s Landing right?” Arya asks her father when they get close to the city. They’ve stopped to water the animals, and Gendry is adjusting Sandy’s saddle to make sure she isn’t too exhausted.

Ned nods back to her,

“We did our duty on the way down.”

“What was that business anyway?”

It is strange too, Arya thinks, no longer finding out the most of official business through gossip. She hasn’t missed it in Storm’s End, the alliances and feuds and machinations. But it wouldn’t be true to say she wasn’t curious.

“Queen Margaery has given birth to a healthy baby boy, and we went to give our congratulations.”

Ah, Arya had heard rumblings of that fact. Not as loud as they had been when King Robert remarried, but enough.

She cocks her head at her father.

“Was that really it?”

Ned pauses, as if debating whether he should tell the next part.

“Robert has chosen to disavow Tommen and Myrcella. He believes the assessment both me and Jon Arryn came to.”

That shocks Arya flat.

“What will become of them now?” Unlike their brother, Tommen and Myrcella had both been nothing but kind to Arya, and though neither of them were gifted with great wit or talent, they did not deserve the fates that most likely would be coming to them. Being labelled a bastard would be bad enough, much less labelled a bastard born of incest.

“Thankfully, he’s chosen to do it quietly, and leave out the more scandalous parts of the equation,” Ned replies. Arya lets out a sigh of relief. “Myrcella was promised years ago to a prince in Dorne. The two are fond enough of each other that the marriage will still stand. Tommen’s the one left up in the air.”

Ned stops and eyes both her and Gendry.

“King Robert also asked if I could try and convince you two to let him lay eyes on you.”

“That depends,” Gendry interjects, “Is he still a drunken whoring lout?”

Arya nods in agreement. The residents of Storm’s End had told them both the stories of Robert and Arya’s aunt Lyanna as soon as the two were recognized for who they were. Neither had been moved by it. Gendry resented any comparison to his father, long disdaining of his attitude towards women and lacking in his fondness for drunkenness. Arya too, had no fondness for her own apparent resemblance to her dead aunt. It was the kind of tragic love story that Sansa might have gone starry eyed over, not thinking of the needless death.

Ned nods, understanding. “Though as his health continues to decline, he seems less and less himself. “

“What of his queen then?”

“Margaery seems more interested in her own position than any of sort of connection between her and the King. She will remain, no matter what becomes of him.”

Her father’s words sit bitterly in Arya’s mind. Ambition, they would call it, Arya herself had no taste for it.

When they get closer to the Neck, the summer heat has truly shown itself, pressing down upon all of them. Arya had absolutely no need for the cloak she had packed, so it became a pillow.

When they reach the stopping point, Arya quietly asks her mother what’s been on her mind since the trip began.

“How much have I missed while I’ve been gone?”

“Somehow both so much and nothing at all.” Is Cat’s response.

“Did Bran ever end up taller than me?”

Her mother laughs at that. It had been a joke during Arya’s younger years, that the two of them were going to reach adulthood neck in neck.

“An inch or two. He’s barely even taller than Meera, and none of the peoples from the Neck are very large. He claims Robb and Sansa must have stolen all the family height and left you two and Rickon with the scraps.”

Cat gets a wistful look in her eye.

“What of Robb and Sansa?” Arya asks. She has written Sansa extensively over the last few years, but her sister seems to have more interest in how Arya was, and often dodges inquiries into her own life.

“Your brother seems so far away now. He’s been like this ever since Balon Greyjoy died and we sent Theon back to Asha. He’s had numerous offers of marriage, but hasn’t accepted any of them. He seems preoccupied, but can’t seem to say with what. Sansa is much the same.”

Arya feels her mother’s sadness deep within her. Of the few communications they had exchanged sense, Cat had told her that she did feel sad that she hadn’t gotten to see her wed, and Arya did feel guilt at having denied her that.

“Though, you will see them both for yourself soon. “

There is a bit of confusion,

“Both are coming? Then who remains at Winterfell?”

Cat shakes her head softly.

“Maester Luwin agreed with us, that he and Vayon Poole were confident in their ability to keep things running on their own, and that it would be good to try and give Rickon some responsibility.”

Rickon, Arya thought. Her youngest brother, who even as he entered young manhood, still seemed a wild boy.

“Rickon…” she starts.

Catelyn carries on, “Is much the same as when you left. He still wanders outside into the woods whenever allowed, sometimes for the entire day. I would almost believe that he was somehow a wildling changeling if I didn’t know better.”

Arya stares off into the forest thinking, deep in her mind, of her youngest brother.

Gendry comes up beside her, asking.

“Your father says they’ve spotted the guide.”

Greywater Watch moves, it being built upon one of the floating islands that fill the Neck. Which also means it cannot be found by raven or map, and they must wait to be guided in.

The man who eventually appears is rather small, with sandy brown hair. Ned steps forward to shake his hand, and then embrace him.

“Lord Reed, it is an honor to see you again.”

“Lord Stark, it is an honor to host you, especially in this situation.”

Reed turns, and the party begins to follow his lead, stepping their steeds carefully around the deep water and quicksand,

By the time their trek into the marshes and bogs reaches its end, Arya is soaked head to foot in sweat, and though only parts of him are pressed into her back, Gendry feels like he’s much the same. The air feels thicker here, heavy with moisture.Just when she feels like she’s had enough, Lord Reed announces they’ve arrived.

Greywater Watch may not be large as far as castles go, but it still looms before the party, rising suddenly out of the bog and drifting ever so slightly atop the water. The only guards Arya sees are a pair of boys of about ten with three-pointed spears. One of them ducks his head in deference when he rows out in a canoe to bring them aboard, and the other runs to the keep to announce their arrival, coming back out fairly quickly with the rest of the party come to greet them.

What her mother had told Arya was right, Bran looked much the same as she remembered, slightly taller than herself, his dark hair just a bit long. Sansa, who had resembled a woman grown even before she was one, was somehow even more immaculate, even in the swamp air. Robb stands beside her, confident and proud, even if he looks a bit out of place.

Arya suddenly feels herself taken over by a childish giddiness, and rushes forward to embrace all of them. She’s not sure who she manages to grab first, but everyone gets a turn.

Sansa reaches and touches the top of Arya’s right arm.

“Gods, you do have a smith’s arm,” she says, half disdainful, half admiring.

Robb pats her on the head.

“Still so small,” Arya sticks her tongue out at him.

Bran claps Gendry on the shoulder. Arya sometimes forgets that Bran hung around the forge as often as she did.

“Honestly, part of me thought Arya actually pushed you off into the sea as soon as we left and just never told anyone.”

The reunion is broken by Meera finishing greeting the rest of the party and stepping to do the same to Arya and Gendry.

From Bran’s description, Arya hadn’t been sure what to expect from Meera Reed. She’s about as tall as Arya, and lean. Her short, curly hair is tied back at her neck. And dressed in a linen tunic and leathers, she isn’t exactly the image of a fine lady who men fell in love with at first sight.

She’s wearing a huge smile though, and she adds,

“You’ll have to excuse my informal attire, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.”

Arya hears Bran snort beside her.

“I can count the number of times I’ve seen her wear a dress on the fingers of one hand. Sansa didn’t know what to do with her. ”

Arya feels Gendry stiffen up.

“Milady,” slips from his mouth,

Meera’s smile crinkles,

“None of that, not here. We’ll all be family tomorrow.”

Gendry relaxes against her, and Arya feels Meera jump much higher in her esteem.

There is much to do, to prepare for the ceremony tomorrow. A few servants offer to carry their things inside, though Arya and Gendry choose to stay in one of the tents set up in the courtyard (it’s just been so hot, most of the people here are sleeping on porches as it is, or else just straight up outside”). Bran’s been in one since he’s been here, and he assures Arya they’re find, but reminds her to roll down the netting on the outside (“or the chiggers will feast upon you”). Mother and Father are discussing the seating with Lord Reed, Robb is helping Lady Jyana with preparation for the feast, and Sansa is sitting up with Meera’s brother Jojen while she finishes up some of the embroidery on Meera’s gown.

Bran has spoken a bit of Jojen, that the young man is quite sickly and prone to strange visions. He has told her that the Reeds call it “greenseeing”, and it’s always sounded like something out of Old Nan’s stories. But when he’s lucid, Jojen is perfectly welcoming, and Bran seems to enjoy talking to him.

Just when Arya is trying to figure out where she can fit herself in, Meera taps her on the shoulder.

“Arya, I dropped a fishing net this morning in a nearby pond. Would you like to come and help me pull it in?”

Arya perks up, then spares a glance back at Gendry.

“The canoes will fit three if Gendry wants to come too.”

Gendry shakes his head violently,

“No, no thank you.”

“Really? You’d rather stay here by yourself with Father and all my brothers?”

When he nods in agreement, Arya cocks an eyebrow in confusion, but turns back to Meera.

“Guess it’s just us then.”

The canoes are docked back in a corner of the crannog where the horses are also hitched. Horses, she’d been told, were not always useful in the Neck, and there were only two kept at Greywater Watch. Arya feels an urge to suggest that a mule or two might suit the terrain.

Arya gets in first and Meera hands her an oar, before getting in and push them off. The only other things in the boat with them are two empty buckets. Meera offers her a tub of thick, foul smelling green paste, saying the bugs would eat her alive otherwise.

“Do you have a knife on you?”

Arya nods before marveling that she was being asked that question by a lady.

“Bran mentioned you and Gendry eloped? How many years has it been?”

“Near on five, “ Arya admits, She hopes Meera’s not about to ask for marital advice, because she’s not comfortable discussing such matters when they involve her brother.

“I tried to tell him we should do the same, just run off one night and avoid all this fuss.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well it would be rather awkward once we came home. Besides, people love a wedding.”

That is true enough, Arya must admit.

“It’s not like we had much of a choice. Gendry’s a bastard with no name, my parents would have never approved the marriage.”

Meera laughs at that.

“Sometimes I forget that things are so different outside the Neck. My mother’s a commoner too, and no one here said a word.”

Arya’s shocked silent. Oh. It seemed her and Meera were going to get along famously.

She gazes out over the water. None of the plants here look like ones she’s seen anywhere else, though she does recognize a bright purple flower from when they had passed through once before. Not touching that one again, she thinks.

It is rather nice out here, Arya notes. Despite the oppressive heat and humidity, the waters are calm, and the trees give plenty of shade. And everywhere her head turns, it seems there’s something new to look at.

“Does Bran like it here?” She asks idly.

“More than I could have hoped,” Meera admits, “I...I know what people from outside say about us, about this place. But he really seems to have taken to it. The first day, the keep was moored near one of the highest trees in the swamp. He disappeared after dinner, turned out he’d gone out to climb it.”

“That’s Bran for sure, Mother was always convinced he was going to plunge off something and break his neck.”

Meera points ahead of the canoe, “The turns up here.”

After they make it, she continues.

“He says he wants to try and organize the fighters here better. First night he was here, a settlement was raided by Freys.’

“He did always want to be a knight,” Arya says, “Though there are none here in the North. Mother called his training with our master-of-arms a squirehood, but he knew.”

Meera finds the net’s floater with ease, and the two of them haul the net onto the boat.

“Do you know how to gut a fish?”

Arya pulls out her knife. She’d forged it herself, her first big project, figuring no one’s standards were higher than her own.

“Knife goes in, guts come out.”

Though, she had only really gutted a few in Storm’s End, the one’s Dot had taught her to fish for off one of the piers. The fishermen usually did it on the boat. And Arya will admit, it is rather disgusting work.

After tearing off a rather stubborn bit of entrail, Arya fights to distract herself.

“I hope Bran’s not asking Gendry too many questions, he’s standoffish enough around my family without having to involve himself in matters that might involve being interrogated about what happened on our wedding night.”

Meera very quietly says, “He probably won’t ask.” When Arya stares at her, and slowly raises an eyebrow, she admits, “We didn’t quite make it.” Her cheeks have suddenly gone very red.

Well, it seems Arya has accidentally stumbled onto the exact subject she’d so wanted to avoid.

After being silent for a time, Meera continues.

“Bran’s been having strange dreams since he came here. A couple of nights ago, I woke and he was pacing the courtyard by where all the tents are. I climbed out my window to ask him what was wrong.

He told me he’d had a terribly vivid dream about being trapped in a cave and being unable to move his legs. He said there were monsters outside, but he couldn’t do anything to get away.

I tried to reassure him that it was probably just from being away from home- I mean, when Father and I went to Winterfell the first time I dreamed multiple times about being surrounded by blinding snow on all sides and somehow still be pursued by something- but he was really shaken up. So, I pulled down one of the canoes, and we went night boating.”

“That’s a thing?” Arya asks. It even sounds euphemistic.

“There was a full moon out, and the fireflies are thick in the summer. There’s the swamp gas too- pockets of air that sometimes catch fire. People have occasionally mistaken them for ghosts or spirits.”

“And did either of you see any of these spirits that night?” Arya asks wryly.

“Not a single one.”

They’ve finished up the fish, and Arya is happy for the rowing to escape her from this conversation.

Meera whistles on the way back.

“What is that song, it sounds familiar.”

“It’s just an old lullaby, though mothers don’t usually sing all the words. It’s just been back in my head lately.”

The sun is low and golden by the time they return, and Meera’s song perfectly suits the day.

When they disembark and Meera makes to take the bucket of fish to the kitchen, Arya is seized upon by Sansa and forced to spend the rest of her day being fitted.

The dress Sansa has brought to put on her is a soft blue silk, with yellow embroidery, and a blessedly loose skirt and short sleeves. It is rather lovely, even if wearing it makes her feel like some sort of fancy confection.

And even if she still flinched when Sansa pushed a pin too close.

Once she’s finished, Sansa brushes her hair. Arya generally can keep it free of snarls, even if she doesn’t do anything with it, so the action is almost soothing. She remembers having her hair brushed by her mother as a child, and for once does not remember the scolding.

“What about you, Sansa?” Arya asks after a long time. “No marriage prospects for you? No great romance I missed out on teasing you for?”

Sansa smiles, but her smile is a little sad.

“None. I’ve been given offers...but I feel nothing for them.”

“Nothing?” Sansa has always spoken of her own marriage, and Arya had been certain she would return to her sister having immediately latched onto the nearest handsome knight, and she’d simply been left in the dark for some unknown reason.

Sansa shakes her head, “They are young and old, handsome and not, gallant and greedy, and yet I feel nothing for any of them.”

“I used to think you could fall in love with a stick if it stood still long enough.”

“A stick Arya, really?”

Sansa pauses a long time on a rough section in Arya’s hair.

“Do you ever feel Arya, as if you’re waiting for something, and you can feel it coming, but it’s just out of reach? I have odd dreams sometimes…”

“Don’t talk to me about dreams.”

Bran has interrupted his sisters, sticking his head through the door.

“Have either of you seen Jojen?”

“He left earlier,” Sansa tells him.

Dreams...

“Yes, Meera did mention to me that you’ve had some rather...intense dreams being away from home.”

Her gaze is hard, and mocking. She hadn’t intended to bring what her and Meera had discussed on the boat up, but she could rarely resist the urge to tease a sibling. And even though Bran’s eyes dart towards her, Sansa doesn’t seem any the wiser.

Once Bran sees certain she’s not going to spill his secret in front of their more proper sister, he continues.

“Intense is putting it mildly. They feel as real as life when I’m having them. They- they feel like the way Jojen describes his visions.”

Visions.

“Do you think being here has somehow made you into a greenseer too?” Arya isn’t sure whether something like that is ridiculous or not, but the swamps here do feel like a whole different world.

“Even if that were possible, it’s wrong. Jojen sees visions of what has happened in the past, or will soon come to pass, or sometimes things that are happening right now. The dreams I have...they’re impossible. Sometimes I’m much younger than I am, and places I’ve never been. The worst one I woke up not being sure that my life was even real.“

Sansa stands and puts the brush down.

“I could go and ask where he went if you wish to speak to him so badly.”

She’s as confused as Arya feels, it seems. She wants to avoid the discussion, even if from her own admission, it seems she might understand.

Arya also feels the pull to push away the discussion of the impossible dreams. And so, once Sansa has left, she returns to her earlier needling.

“I’ll keep quiet if you can do the same. Though Meera couldn’t, so you two might be in trouble.”

Bran has gone very red. His cheeks have the barest hints of a beard upon them, though it looks like he shears it off. Its strange, even though he’d been as tall she was even years before, Arya still had a hard time thinking of him as a man.

“I could barely look her in the eye over breakfast without breaking into laughter, and she didn’t stop smiling all day, I’d be surprised if the whole castle didn’t already know.”

“So you couldn’t hold out a few more days, I never would have taken you for someone to be a stickler for tradition.”

Bran’s sat beside her, where Sansa had been. Arya had begun to regret that the two of them were never closer, they really were much more alike than her and Sansa were.

“If we were sticklers for tradition, Meera would be the one leaving home tomorrow. She would be coming to Winterfell and learning about our bannermen and how to prepare for being snowed in. Instead, I get to come and learn about how to hunt frogs, and how to grow vegetables in bales of straw.”

“Straw?” Arya asks looking at him funny.

“Oh, it keeps them out of the water so they don’t rot. You have to spread them with fish guts first…”

Arya cuts him off. Enough of her day has already involved fish guts.

“Her family’s known for years that Jojen wouldn’t be fit to inherit on his own. Meera tells me he’s always needed help, and she’s always been happy to give it. Though she did seem convinced I wouldn’t marry her knowing that.”

Arya’s feeling so much better about everything over this day,

“So you think you’ll be happy here? Even with the weird dreams?”

“That’s a joke. All these dreams have been making me do is be grateful for everything I have here.”

Sansa sticks her head back in and asks if Bran still wants to talk to Jojen, so their conversation ends on that note.

The fireflies are out heavy that night. They didn’t have them in Wintefell, or in Storm’s End. They look just like the stories describe though, though they don’t stay lit. The seconds of light as they hover over the water make the view from the tents on the ground borderline magical.

Gendry’s stretched out beside her. The other men apparently just made him carry and haul things all day, so he’s rather tired out and not inclined to talk much, or to appreciate the sights. Eventually, Arya pulls down the netting, stretches out and tries to sleep too.

Maybe it was the influence of hearing Bran’s stories, but Arya’s night is filled with strange dreams.

In one, she’s staring off a boat into the ocean, but she doesn’t know where she’s going. In another she’s back in King’s Landing, surrounded by screaming. That one ends blissfully quickly.

In the last, there’s a fire, and men she can’t get a good look at. She’s crying, and yelling, and Gendry is holding onto her, and it just won’t stop.

Gendry shakes her awake from that one, and it takes all her strength not to fight him, before her mind comes back to her, comes back to the day.

“Bad dream?”

She nods silently.

“I’ll blame the swamp.”

Getting ready in the morning is blissfully quick. Sansa frets about her own hair, she hadn’t planned to put it up apparently, but the heat is getting to her.

“Wait,” Arya suddenly remembers, fishing in her own bags for the hair pin she made her.

“It’s a wolfs-head, like the one Gendry made me.” She’d made one of a lizard-lion for Meera, but she’d already given it to her when she saw her heading off after breakfast.

“Did you make this?” Sansa asks, touching it with one finger.

Arya nods excitedly.

“The shapes are hard because the metal is so thin, but it’s one time that my small hands is an advantage. I can do the best chain around now too.”

Sansa twists her hair up, and Arya helps her slide the pin in the middle and close it. It holds nicely.

The godswood at Greywater Watch is tiny, everyone is pressed close together in front. The heart tree here is an enormous willow, with branches that shade nearly the entire ground from the blazing sun. For once, Arya pities the men having to wear their long sleeves and long pants. Bran’s in gray wool and leathers and looks like he might faint, though that might be from nerves.

Father and Mother stand behind Bran under the tree, and Arya is a few down, pressed between Sansa and Gendry, when Howland walks Meera in.

Her gown is white linen, flowing and short sleeved, with the neckline loosely laced. The skirt is embroidered with flowers of every color- Sansa had done that. She’s also wearing the pin Arya gave her, she notes with pride. She’s still smiling, and looks radiant. When he sees her, Bran can’t stop smiling either.

They say their words (without anyone forgetting their names, Arya notes), and Bran removes his cloak, and it’s at this point that Sansa starts crying (“again?” Arya says in mild disbelief), and when Bran leans in Meera tilts her head at the wrong moment and his lips meet her nose by mistake, and everyone still applauds, and Arya notes that her mother’s face has that same smiling-but-a-little-sad look that seems to be Sansa’s default now.

Half of the tents in the courtyard have been pushed aside to make room for the three long tables. It’s not a large crowd really. The castle itself has maybe only a dozen staff, and even though there’s a number of other houses in the Neck, it was not nearly as crowded even as the Great Hall could be in Winterfell.

The feast is modest, but delicious. The fish they brought in yesterday are fried, the extras made into a stew thick with roots and rice. The salad is nearly all wild greens, dotted with nuts. There’s cakes of bright orange yam fried in fat, and a pie of apples and blackberries, all washed down with a jug of strawberry wine.

There’s talk that Arya only half listens to, Hunters discuss sightings, rice farmers the rain. Gendry has managed to find a bronzesmith and is flooding him with questions. Lady Jyana, apparently, grew up a duck hunter, and tells Arya of the flock she’s kept and raised here for it’s eggs. A couple of archers mention the raids from the Crossing again, and are quickly shushed.

The food isn’t even all cleared before the music begins. Wooden stringed instruments Arya doesn’t know the names of, and pipes and homemade drums. There are no musicians it seems, everything having been brought by the people attending. Even Sansa whips out a reed flute, Arya didn’t even know she could play one.

Arya doesn’t know the tune, but after one song ends, she turns to Gendry’s, who’s finishing up his piece of pie.

“Want to dance?”

He looks uncertain.

“I don’t know any steps.”

She stares at him.

“What makes you think I do? I don’t even know most of these songs.”

And it Gendry steps on her feet more than a few times, she pays him back in kind. Robb manages to dance with nearly every unattached girl in the place. Sansa accepts a single dance from Jojen, who dances just a bit stiffly.

Gendry spins her at one point, and Arya catches her father’s eye. Ned meets her gaze long and steady, and Arya merely grins at him in return.

At one point, Lady Jyana touches her elbow.

“Can you call your parents over here? The bride and groom wish to make a silent getaway.”

Arya gestures Cat and Ned over and the group stand in front of the exit, allowing Bran and Meera to escape with ease.

“Barbaric practice I’d say, the bedding ceremony,” Arya comments once her parents have returned to the dance floor.

“We don’t really do that here,” Jyana agrees, “But someone got it in their heads, and neither yours or mine wished to risk it.”

And for not the last time, Arya is deeply happy that the only witness to her own wedding had been her sister.

Soon, though the night has already begun to fall, the music begins to wind down, and the guests begin to retire, and the few servants come and move the tables. The last song they stay for, Arya recognizes as the one Meera had been whistling the day before. It is odd for a lullaby, being about being left by someone who is the light of one’s life.

In the tent later, Gendry asks.

“So you have three more siblings right? So at most, we’ll only have to deal with three more of these things.”

“Fou, though Jon’s not supposed to be able to now that he’s taken the black. I can’t really see Rickon marrying anyone either. Perhaps we’ll luck out, and only have two more.”

Gendry’s on his back, hands behind his head.

“That’s still two too many.”

Arya rolls her eyes and settles back.

She’s woken a bit later by Gendry grabbing her arm rather tightly.

“What is it?”

But he remains silent, his eyes fixed upon her as if he thinks she might disappear. She reaches her other hand out to shake him. “Bad dream? Is it the swamp?”

His hand slackens around her arm, and he slides his hand down to intertwine with her own.

She remembers her own dreams previous night, and suddenly stands, tugging him by his hand.

“Come one, if you can’t sleep, we’ll go out in one of the boats. I hear there are lights we might get to see out here.”

Gendry follows her reluctantly, and looks at her like she’s grown a second head when she hands him an oar.

They see no lights that night, and the moon is only half full, but Gendry has no more bad dreams. The next morning comes soon enough. And if they end up flipping the canoe and walking back soaking wet, no one says a word to them about it.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #gendrya #arya x gendry #breera #bran x meera

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not-my-patton · 5 years

Text

Set it Off - Part 1

So, this is all queued up because I’m on vacation right now so over the next few days one of six parts of my Reverse Big Bang Piece is going to come out. But thank you to @sanderssidesfanfiction for holding this event and thank you to @munchydork6 for the beautiful artwork that inspired this piece. Go check this out and the music that also helped me write this. And, without further ado, enjoy!

~~~~

Part 1 - I Think It’s Arrogance

Word Count: 1073

The stage was set for conflict.

Roman sat at the kitchen table, scribbling more videos ideas into a spiral notebook. Occasionally he’d rip out a page and throw the crumpled page of an idea into the trash, and sometimes he’d be caught staring at a random wall in a daze. Otherwise his determined eyes never left the page as more words flowed from his gel pen tips. Cross outs in red and annotations in gold with notes to self in purple over pink ideas.

Logan sat across from him, looking over his book of ideas. Not speaking; simply observing as he let the creative side do what it did best. Sometimes the logical nodded as Roman tossed something away, or checked his watch. But Logan mainly remained motionless: fingers clasped and eyes darting with every word Ro wrote.

Patton watched the tension silently grow between the pair from the safe distance of the couch. He’d try to offer the boys the food or a break, anything to break the silence they were drowning in, but Roman would wave him away while Logan shook his head. He clenched the cushions as Logan rose sharply from his position. It was about to begin.

“Roman, we not have the time to entertain every fantastical idea that enters your head. It’s been months since Thomas has made a video and the fans are getting impatient.” Logan stated, before throwing his hands on the table. “You need to settle on an idea and stick with it.”

“The day I settle with mediocrity is the day I die.” Roman proclaimed, whipping his head up sharply to look straight into Logan’s determined eyes.

“You … do understand that we cannot actually die. As manifestations of Thomas’ personal...”

“The point still stands!” Roman’s voice rose at the injection, causing Patton to hide all but his eyes behind the edge of the couch. He did not like fighting at all, despite Lo and Ro’s arguments becoming all too more commonplace nowadays. “All these ideas simply do not meet the high standard that Thomas sets for all his videos.”

“Unfortunately, Thomas also has a TIME standard requiring videos to be produced at a sufficient rate.” Logan refuted. His voice never rose, which a good sign to Patton. If Logan’s voice rose, then the two had hit the point of no return. “The last video of yours that met your unrealistically high standard was six months ago! We need to stop procrastinating and decide on a concept.”

“I am NOT procrastinating! I have been churning out idea after idea to fit our and Thomas’ needs.” Roman pushed back his chair, rising now to meet Logan’s level as he continued to rattle off his thoughts. “Reasonable budget, high production standard, balance of screen time, easily presentable and understood moral, serious yet lighthearted, progression of the story Thomas wants to tell. All these factors must be taken into consideration.”

“Well, maybe your priorities are being insufficiently managed. Under my observations you’ve seemed to produce several ideas that, with some more elaborative brainstorming, could yield promising results.” Logan took a step closer to Roman. Patton watched the standoff unfold. The signs of failing restraint on Logan’s end and the frustration clearly etched in Roman’s features.

“Yet none were the right idea. The idea that is not like the last, but better. All I can think of are ... basic premises and hasty executions. Clearly you don’t understand the struggles that come with Creative Block.”

Logan took a breath before continuing. “I believe that your creative flow is not being segmented but rather your struggle for a suitable concept is due to your warped narcissistic vision of perfection.” Patton shot up from hiding in alarm. The facade Logan likes to preserve was fading with a rising voice. If this argument were to progress much further, he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“A view of perfection warped by your logical constraints! Clearly you don’t understand the truth that YOU are not the solution but part of the problem!” Patton has to say something to de-escalate them both. But what? What could he possibly bring to the table that would make both of their points valid, which they were. And would they even listen? All they ever saw him as was comic relief.

“I’M RIGHT AND YOU’RE WRONG!”

There they were. The five words that were the catalyst; the ones that signaled the point of no return. Patton closed his eyes and sighed as his fellow ideas launched into the verbal equivalent of war. Both Logic and Creativity—practical opposites—vomiting our their arguments in a desperate and vain attempt to prove that their side was right. Unable to end due outstanding pride both refused to admit they had, usually only stopping when …

“Where’s Virgil?” Patton asked to oblivious ears. The anxious side was both the only one with the guts to stop the bickering and nowhere in sight. Virgil, unfortunately, was the person to try and avoid any conflict the second it escalated. He was, after all, Anxiety. Patton had to find him. He walked past Logan and Roman like a ghost in the night. This was a common occurrence when the two argued: the world around them fading unless something jarring or someone very directly interrupted them. Patton was not one of those things, so he was simply ignored.

He stood in the hallway of the mindscape, where the doors of all Thomas’ Sides resided. The four core ones—himself, Ro, Lo and Virge—rested at the front while the ones yet to be revealed, similar to how Deceit used to be, lay beyond. But Morality didn’t care about those doors at this current moment in time. His eyes instead lay to rest on Roman’s door. A soft purple glow leaked out of its small opening, and soft music echoed in Patton’s ears. A song he didn’t recognize from a voice he did.

Virgil.

Patton pushed the already ajar door open more so he could see in. His movements were soft and controlled to avoid startling Anxiety. But he wasn’t there. The door to the imagination, however, was unlocked. It’s signature golden light leaked into the Creative side’s room as it intertwined with glittery dark purple, nearly black, light. The song Virgil sang was louder, but the words were still unintelligible

Only a fool would intrude Anxiety during such a personal moment. But like the fool he was, Patton entered.

#patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sander sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #fanfic #dopple work #reverse big band

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bellarkefanfiction · 6 years

Text

We Play Our Parts So Well

written by: Josefine / @selflessbellamy

prompt: bellamy and clarke are actors on a tv show. theyre love interests but are also dating irl and they have to shoot their first sex scene together. they get it on either during (unknowingly to others) or after the shoot for anonymous

word count: 2847

There are countless things wrong with having your co-stars head between your thighs. Especially if it’s done off-camera, in the casual setting of his apartment, with the spicy taste of Italian red wine lingering like a promise at the tip of her tongue. Bellamy, of course, ate her out vigorously until she grasped at the sheets like a lifeline, and now his character, Julian Amerada, has to do the same to hers. And Clarke has to pretend, for the sake of self-preservation, that she doesn’t know what it feels like.

In the hit NBC TV-series Embers, Clarke plays the role of Cassandra Tallion, a princess whose life is forever altered when she discovers what it’s like to be a warrior. And since the premiere of the show — the first scene she shared with Bellamy, more precisely — fans on Twitter (and virtually every other social media platform in existence) — have been screaming in all caps for them to just ‘SUCK FACES ALREADY ASDFGBSKCKXS’

Now, they’re finally going to get what they want. It’s been five seasons and the showrunner, Thelonius Jaha, has decided that it’s finally time to make Jassandra a thing — a canon thing.

Jasper Jordan, one of the special effect technicians, puts sugar in his coffee (enough to kill a small animal), quirks up an eyebrow and looks from Bellamy to Clarke before stating the obvious, “The internet is gonna fucking explode when you guys finally get it on.”

For a moment, Clarke’s eyes flicker nervously to Bellamy’s. Oh god, she’s supposed to be an actress, but she can’t even keep her cool in this situation. Meanwhile, her very handsome and very forbidden boyfriend takes a sip of his Earl Grey tea (Miller loves to call him a ‘sophisticated bastard’ for that preference), looking at Jasper nonchalantly.

“Did I hear someone say ‘getting it on’?” Raven chimes in, walking towards their table to throw her arms around Clarke’s shoulders. “That’s my domain.”

At that, Clarke only chuckles. So does Bellamy. “Raven, the last time I checked, you were happily married to an ex-pilot by the name of Shaw.”

Flippantly, Reyes takes her best friend’s coffee mug to steal a sip, then winces at the taste when she realizes that it isn’t black. “Yeah, and we get it on all the time. But of course, you wouldn’t know about that now, would you, Griffin?” It’s a fair burn, but little does Raven know that it no longer rings true. Since Clarke started seeing Bellamy off set four months ago, she’s had more orgasms than she had during all of last year.

“Have you read the script?” Harper McIntyre joins them. She plays Amelia, Cassandra’s stepsister, who is trying to overthrow her own father’s regime. “It’s cunnilingus, right?”

Jordan chuckles, “Oh please, Harper. You read all of it just like the rest of us,” and when Clarke looks at him, her brow furrowed in confusion, he continues, “Every single one of us is on team Jassandra. It’s no secret.”

As Clarke looks around the table, everyone — including Miller — nods, and Murphy even confesses to buying merch from Ebay, which leaves the rest of them shook. Still, his only explanation is, “What can I say? Some of this fanart is pretty fucking cool.”

Well, you can’t argue with that. Every time Clarke logs on to Twitter, her mentions are full of beautiful art pieces and gifs that people have made of the show (someone even wrote a song for Jassandra once). It warms her heart and makes her smile each day knowing that there are so many talented, passionate fans out there.

Episode 5x07 of Embers is called ‘The Land We March For’, and they’re shooting some of it tomorrow morning, including the already notorious love scene in Cassandra’s bedchamber in Marble Castle. Feeling a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, Clarke decides to abandon the table and take a look at the set, which has been prepared for the shoot tomorrow.

There are candles everywhere, ready to be lit and the bed has been covered in furs. It looks beautiful, but Clarke still has to swallow the lump in her throat.

“You alright?”

Smiling, Bellamy puts a hand to her shoulder. He must’ve followed her here, and she instantly appreciates it. For some reason, she always feels more at ease when she’s around him, and even though having to do her first love scene on screen is still incredibly daunting, she’s so glad that he will be there with her.

“Yeah… Just a bit nervous,” she confesses after a minute.

In comfort, he places his hand on her shoulder, caressing it with his thumb. “Trust me, I get that.”

Unlike her, Bellamy has done a love scene on Embers before, although it was a short flashback one between Julian and his deceased lover, Karolina. “Whatever,” she says, exhaling. “We’ll just have to kill this scene, you know? The viewers deserve something great. Our characters deserve it. We just need to do it justice.”

In fact, it was partly with the viewers and their characters in mind that Bellamy and Clarke asked for some of the script for the scene to be altered. Originally, Cassandra was supposed to beg Julian to ‘ravish her’, but that seemed non-consensual and out of character, so they made sure that the line was changed to ‘make love to me’.

“I can’t wait to see the fan reaction.”

“Jasper’s right. People are gonna lose their shit.”

(Certainly, they are not wrong…)

***

Just before they start filming the scene the next morning, Clarke tweets a row of cryptic emojis along with the hashtags #EmbersTV and #BigDay. Smirking, she joins Bellamy on the set of Cassandra’s bedchamber, and even though they both look very much in character, they have one last ritual as Bellamy and Clarke before they start shooting.

They hug. For a long time…

It’s nice, not only because of the obvious reasons, but it also seems to strengthen their connection, so that the chemistry continues to be — as according to @TheTheloniusJaha on Twitter — on fire. When this ritual started two years ago, the showrunner found it so special that he posted a picture of it to the Internet, and to say the fandom went nuts would be an understatement. Most notable retweets go to:

@Jassandraisrealbitches: NOW WE HAVE SOME CONTENT FOR MODERN AU’S FOLKS ASDFJGGJFSO

@JulianAmeradaah: Oh would you look at these cuties??!!!?? No wonder why their connection is da bomb.com

@QueenCassandra: This might not be the canon story, but my Jassandra heart has been fed a whole ass meal thank u @ jesus

“Are you okay?” Bellamy murmurs once they pull away from each other, his eyes as soft as the rain-soaked Earth, and she just barely resists the desire to kiss him. Instead, she nods, determined. Then they go to their assigned marks just before Thelonius Jaha roars, “ACTION!”

Cassandra’s hair is still wet from a bath, so she’s wringing it out when Julian emerges from the shadows, his ripped shirt exposing the blossoming bruises on his chest. She gasps, stepping forward to reach for him, but he takes a step back. His midnight sky eyes have lost their stars as they flash with an emotion she can’t identify. “I’m a monster, Princess,” he proclaims.

She ignores it. “I told you not to call me that.”

Without looking at her, he bursts into laughter, almost hysterical. The horror of battle has started to feast on his soul, on his heart and it threatens to tear her apart, seeing him like this. “Julian, please…” She can tell that he wants to look at her, because he clenches his jaw.

“I thought I was angry when I heard about Bhoran asking for your hand in marriage, Your Highness, but how can I be? I will never be good enough for you. I could never give you the life you want.”

Once he’s said that, the blood boils in her veins and fire sparks within her ocean eyes. This time when she strides forward, she doesn’t let him back away. Instead, she crashes her mouth onto his, her lips violent and desperate…

Unbeknownst to their co-stars, Bellamy and Clarke have already kissed countless times, so even though their makeout sessions are a lot more relaxed than this, kissing is easy. But staying in character, however, that’s difficult. She can tell that Bellamy wants to soften the kiss, which he isn’t supposed to. He also buries his hand in her hair, going off script, but it likely won’t be a big deal.

Definitely not to the fans anyway… They will gush about this for months.

Julian breaks away to discover that her rage hasn’t evaporated completely. “Since when do you know what I want?” She hisses, even if her lower lip quivers with emotion. In front of her is the man who taught her to fight, to defy her father, to value her own ambition instead of being obedient. “I want you. All of you,” she states, tearing at his ruined shirt until the material falls off.

“Cassandra…” Finally, he says her real name, causing her eyes to shut briefly as desire strikes her harder. Still, his voice is barely audible, hidden by a veil of uncertainty, but she holds his gaze with the utmost determination as she maps his chest with her hands, the bruises too.

(Clarke takes the liberty of licking her lips a little, so that means Cassandra does as well)

“Make love to me.”

He stares for half a minute. “I can’t… You’re a—“

“Don’t say it!” When she turns her back to him, Julian can’t resist the temptation of undoing the buttons on her dress. In fact, he wants nothing more than to free her of that horrible corset. Leaning into his touch, she sighs. “Until morning, I am Cassandra, no more, no less… And I love you.”

One thing that the TV Scoop journalist Riley Peterson remarked in his first of many reviews on Embers was that the love scenes were graphic, just like in Game of Thrones, which had a bunch of horny white men flocking to the show only to be disappointed when they discovered that Embers is unapologetically feminist. Jaha even had this in mind when he chose the type of sex that Julian and Cassandra (his two leads) would be having.

(“Yeah, Cassandra’s father may be all about preserving medieval values, but Julian isn’t.”

When Jaha said that, Bellamy had winked at her discreetly, whispering, “Julian knows how to please a woman. We have so much in common.” For that comment, Clarke kicked teasingly at his shin under the table)

There’s a cut between Cassandra’s dress falling to the floor and the next scene where they’re in her bed, having sex, so they take a quick break to have some water. “We got this, right?”

Looking around to make sure nobody’s watching them, Bellamy presses a reassuring kiss to her temple, and she smiles in gratitude. Still, she’s unsure about something, so she decides to ask Bellamy for his two cents because he’s probably the person — right next to Jaha and herself — that knows the most about Cassandra as a character.

“How loud do you’d think she’d be?” When he raises his eyebrows, grinning, she swats at his arm. “It’s a genuine question, Bellamy.”

“I know. Sorry… I’m gonna say that she’s a woman, a virgin, who’s having oral sex with the man that she loves the most in the world, so… she’s probably loud. At the very least shook.”

Well, that part won’t be hard to play at all. The first time Bellamy went down on her, she was left speechless, feeling as if she were flying high above land with the stars surrounding her. Yes, it’d been that great, and luckily he’d felt the same way.

They’re smiling at each other when Jaha appears. “Sorry if I’m ruining a moment, but we gotta roll again.”

Showtime…

To get it right, Clarke tries to remember the stars that formed behind her eyelids when Bellamy licked into her for the first time, and it works. She cries out, clutching at his hair with one hand and at the sheets with the other. As her lips part, Bellamy presses an unscripted kiss to her inner thigh, which has her gasping. It’s a natural reaction, for her as well as Cassandra, so it really doesn’t matter, but she still feels self-conscious.

“You good?” Bellamy adlibs, and she nods frantically, managing a fake moan when he pretends to pick up the pace.

To be fair, the script doesn’t mention anything about Cassandra having an orgasm, but in the matter of two seconds, Clarke decides that yes, her character would definitely have one, so she does her job as an actress and fakes it. This is something that she’s never done with Bellamy before, which means that the production team will have to decide whether it’s convincing enough to keep in the final take.

“Beautiful,” once again, Bellamy adlibs, but he’s good at that, mostly because he has such a strong sense of Julian. Then he moves up her body to kiss her deeply, and when Jaha yells ‘CUT!’ it clearly takes all of his willpower to stop. Pulling back, he mimics ‘Later’ like a promise; his dark eyes alight with sparks.

***

Later in her dressing room, Clarke is alone and has just pulled out a Hershey’s cookies and cream bar as a reward for her sweet tooth when Bellamy walks in, hands buried in his pockets. A smile is blooming on her lips when she turns around to face him.

He starts, “You should improvise more. I know that’s usually my thing, but you’re really good at it.”

Feeling heat rush to her face at the compliment, Clarke admits, “Well, I’m not actually used to faking orgasms… I’ve only ever done it once.”

His brow furrows, and it’s most likely because of their five-year-long friendship that she understands why without having to ask. Therefore, she clears her throat, blushing harder. She feels like a teenager. “Not with you. I have an ex-boyfriend that I only slept with once before we broke up, and he really failed at getting me off.”

“Do you want me to get you off?”

“You just did,” she replies, her sassiness colliding with his bluntness in a way that makes him laugh. It’s her favorite sound, even better than jazz on a Sunday morning or a rainstorm pounding against her window…

“No. Julian got Cassandra off. We should celebrate. Jassandra’s canon, after all. ”

There are countless things wrong with having your co-stars head between your legs; especially it’s in an unlocked dressing room… Whatever. It’s too late to be sensible now, and if being sensible means that she can no longer date or have sex with Bellamy, she is choosing to be foolish.

“Oh, the things we do for fun,” she thinks out loud, the words emerging at the edge of a moan. Bellamy’s tongue is always able to give her earthquake-like orgasms that cause tremors to run through her body, the best of aftershocks. Laughing, she pulls him up to kiss the bronze stars on his forehead.

“Do you think we should tell the others about us?”

Her heart swells. This is getting really serious for him, too. “Yeah. When the time is right.”

***

As it turns out, the time is right on the night where the episode airs on national television, and Clarke has decided to invite the entire gang over to celebrate and watch live. Just when the love scene is about to start, Jasper mumbles around his slice of pizza, “This is my favorite part,” and everyone chuckles, but he is too fixated on the screen to notice.

Smiling a little shyly, Clarke walks to Bellamy while their friends are watching the scene unfold and sits down on his lap. Only when the scene is over, everyone turns to them (mostly because their phones are blowing up with Twitter notifications). Apparently the least shocked, Raven is the first person to make a comment, “Fucking finally. I knew all of that chemistry wasn’t there for nothing.”

“Reyes, you sound like a Twitter fangirl,” Miller notes, which earns him a pillow in the face.

But yeah, in Miller’s defense, she actually does:

@Jassandraisreal: ASDFHDISNVJ BITCH I AM ON THE F L O O R. WHAT THE FUQ? #Jassandra #EmbersTV #507

@AmeradasJulian: SHE CAME… SHE CAME!!!111!!! WHEN WILL YOUR OTP EVER? I HAVE ASCENDED #Jassandra #EmbersTV #i am deceased

@Embersfan125: How is it possible to be so alive and so fucking dead at the same time?? I blame @EmbersTV @TheTheloniusJaha @ClarkeyG & @BellamyBlake #EmbersTV

However, this is nothing compared to the amount of keysmashes and exclamation points in the tweets following Bellamy’s announcement 18 months later:

BELLAMY BLAKE: ‘YES, IT’S TRUE. CLARKE AND I ARE ENGAGED.’

Fans all over the world have lost it. As @Jassandraendgaame on Twitter so eloquently puts it: “WE NEVER FUCKING LOSE BITCHES!”

#bellarke fanfiction #bffnet #bffwritingteam #wt: josefine #a: selflessbellamy #title: we play our parts so well #actor!bellamy #actress!clarke #celebrities #established relationship #secret relationship #prompts #social media au

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belphegor1982 · 5 years

Text

Got tagged by @kikabennet!

when did you last sing to yourself?

Yesterday, since I’ve currently been awake for an hour and a half. Might have been either “Bonnie Portmore” or “Here’s a Health (To The Company)”. I’ve been putting a lot of shanties and pirates/sailing-related films soundtracks on to draw to (and hopefully write to) lately. (EDIT: Ooops - yep, wrote that yesterday around 11AM, so make that this afternoon; I hummed while I drew along with the first 3 Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks. It’s so darn hummable.)

if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Who was the Man in the Iron Mask!? (I know better than to ask personal/family truths :S Besides, I’m curious.)

(putting the rest under a cut...)

what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Being able to speak (mostly) and read/write English fluently.

what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

When my mum was in the hospital with my newborn baby sister, my dad would take me see them, and before that we’d stop for ice cream and a ride on the merry-go-round. That’s what comes to mind when I read “first happy memory”.

if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I’d go see my family and friends who live far away a lot more, and eat a lot more of my favourite things.

do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I don’t, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

describe a person close to your life in detail

The Best Beloved is tallish (1,77m - that’s… 5′10?), with dark brown hair, green eyes, skin that tans easily even in winter, and glasses. …and that’s as much detail as I’m comfortable putting.

do you feel you had a happy childhood?

On the whole, yes. Could’ve done without the bullying at school and the undermining of self-confidence at home, though.

when did you last cry in front of another person?

Don’t remember, so it must be at least a fortnight.

pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

My dad, who used to sail with a compass. I don’t think he knows much about constellations, but he’s always willing to share memories, even if sometimes he doesn’t remember he’s told them multiple times.

would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Probably. I shouldn’t, though. Strangers being by definition strangers, you never know where that information is going and how it might be used (possibly against you).

when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

We both were tired and ended up going to bed around half past midnight, so no 3AM conversation, but my friend Sandrine last week.

if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

…I have no idea? I think I’d concentrate really hard on not dying :S

what is your opinion on brown eyes?

Why would it matter tho I have brown eyes and for the longest time I thought they were boring. It doesn’t help that brown hair and eyes are basically the default where I grew up/live. Then I grew up and moved on.

pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

George Bernard Shaw’s “Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.” Life is complicated, all about balance between extremes and absolutes. Don’t trust people who tell you the world is grim and serious just because they are. And while getting the giggles at a funeral/wake is inappropriate, it doesn’t mean you’re heartless.

what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

Wait, What

what would you do with one billion dollars?

I’d keep half a dozen millions for me (car and house debts), my family and my friends, and give the rest to social services, healthcare, and public services in general.

are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

Ehhh… It’s complicated. I tend to hold grudges when I can remember why, but I rarely do something about it. On the whole I’m pretty “live and let live”.

would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Neither, really. I’m too soft for punk, but pastel’s not really my thing either.

how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain

I’m too much of a wuss to even consider getting either, but they look great on other people. When I get a spot on my tongue I wonder how people with a tongue piercing manage to keep it, though. It’s very distracting.

do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

As a rule, no, but if I work or if I’m invited somewhere I’ll throw on a bit of eyeliner and lipstick. (I should raid my makeup drawer, really, some of my lipstick cases are almost 20 years old and you should NOT do that.)

talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way

In high school I saw a psychologist (junior high was NOT a happy time and the bad stuff just overflowed at one point) and went to an outpatient clinic every Wednesday. They had lots of activities, like painting on silk, various art stuff, and a band, and I loved that band. I was one of the only ones who’d request songs to sing in English. The guitarist introduced me to the Beatles’ “Something”, which I didn’t know, and to this day when I hear this lovely song I think of that guy who had a great smile, a great sense of humour and a great moustache (think George Harrison on Let It Be) who helped me get better.

list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel

Not to brag, but back in my uni days I did go to a number of them - K’s Choice, Coldplay, King Khan And His Shrines, M, Tom McRae are among the ones I remember. And a couple months ago I went to a rock concert with three bands one after the other. I love live music, it feels amazing. It courses through my body, makes me grin like a maniac, and want to jump and flail around just to vent the excess energy. And all this without a single drop of beer! (can’t stand the stuff :P)

who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I’d love a letter from the national loto that says “here’s a giant check even though you haven’t scratched a ticket in years” :P More seriously, I LOVE receiving letters from my Internet friends.

do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I don’t really have a workspace. I have a desk, which has the desktop screen, keyboard, mouse/graphic tablet, and a whole lot of mess of papers, pens, boxes, and stuff. I can use either that desk or my laptop in my armchair.

what is your night time routine?

Finish watching the movie/tv show, look at Tumblr a bit (and/or stuff on the laptop, like TV Tropes), go to bed, read a bit on my Kindle, kiss the Best Beloved good night, switch off the lights, and try to sleep.

what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Anything about my intimate life, thanks.

if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I experimented a bit with henna back in the day, but generally I just have haircuts (I have too little hair to risk harming it). I’d like some reddish highlights one day, though.

pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Eehhh... I’d rather stay at home and chill :P Okay, I’d take the Best Beloved and my friends Melody, Nico, Sandrine, and Aldric, and head to Marquèze. (wish their website had an English version, it’d be better.) It’s an ecomuseum about local life in the early 1800s/early 1900s, with preserved traditional houses and people showing skills like dyeing fabric, shepherding, making flour (there’s a watermill) and all sorts of cakes and bread and snacks, and an entire day isn’t too much to visit everything.

name three wishes and why you wish for them

I wish:

I had a decently-paying job from home,

my friend Sandrine’s mum were/will be all right (don’t ask),

we had the house extension built already

what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up

We didn’t have Halloween when I was growing up, it really only started to be a thing in earnest a decade or two ago. Although... One time when we lived in Bordeaux, the Best Beloved and I were invited to a housewarming party on Halloween, so people would wear costumes. I went as a witch, with a long black skirt, long-sleeve thing with black lace (-ish), long black and white wig, and of course black lipstick and lots of black around the eyes. The Best Beloved had made a cloak, a scythe of sorts with cardboard and foil, and had a scary death head mask on. We didn’t have a car and the friend lived in Saint-Médard (which is relevant), so we had to ask around the bus drivers for which bus went there.

So picture the two of us dressed as we were, mask and all, well after dark, asking around for the “S&M” bus. Yep :P (People stared at us during the ride, and unlike the Best Beloved, I didn’t have the luxury of a mask to hide my laughter...)

what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

The only time I got slightly tipsy I went a little pink and apparently talked a little louder than usual. I’ve never got drunk (too afraid of stomachache later) or high (it took my mum two heart attacks to quit smoking and I’m wondering if she hasn’t taken it up again, I can’t hold a cigarette, tobacco or otherwise).

what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Hurt people, probably. If I wouldn’t do it for ten dollars I wouldn’t do it for a million - if you agree to one or the other the rest is just haggling over price.

if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

I don’t think I have the right face shape for that - my face is too round, longer hair suits me better.

what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I live 126 km (78 miles) from the nearest Starbucks, when I walk by one the queue is huge, and the prices are well beyond my range :> But I’d trust the Best Beloved. He’d still ask me, though.

what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Being happy and/or stress-free. Also the oncoming Papa Bear Awards nominations in a week and the Eurovision Song Context coming up in May :D

Tagging @radarsteddybear, @rose-of-pollux, @truxi-twice, @myrling-art, @iorvethscommando, and @toooldforthisbutstill! :o)

#about me

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statetalks · 3 years

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How Do Republicans Feel About Donald Trump

‘nobody Is Afraid Of Their Grandfather’

How do Republicans move forward without Donald Trump?

Many Republicans expect Americans will become dissatisfied with record levels of government spending and debt, an increasingly crowded U.S.-Mexican border;and new rules and regulations promulgated by the Democratic Congress and the Biden administration.

Pledging to work with the Biden administration on an infrastructure bill, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., said he is “hopeful” that “we may be able to do some things on a bipartisan basis; but they got off to a pretty hard left-wing start.”

“We don’t intend to participate in turning America into a left-wing,;kind of Bernie Sanders vision of what this country ought to be like,” McConnell told Fox News after the meeting between Biden and congressional leaders.

Fiscally conservative groups are stepping up campaigns against Biden and his spending proposals.

The organization Americans For Prosperity is preparing ads for competitive House districts in Pennsylvania, Michigan, Wisconsin, Arizona and Georgia. Biden wrested those states from Trump in the 2020 election, providing him his margin of victory in the Electoral College.

Some Republican criticism plays off Biden’s age and his occasionally mangled syntax, but that strategy has met limited success. Some of the attacks mirror the ones Trump made in 2020 against “Sleepy Joe.”

“Trump never found a salient way to brand Biden, and Republicans continue to struggle after the election,” Republican strategist Alex Conant said.

Gender Differences In Views Of Trumps Respect For Men And Women

Men and women generally think that Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for men. But they differ on how much respect he has for women.

Nearly half of men say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for women, compared with 39% of women.

Gender differences in these views are much wider among younger adults than older people. Among those younger than 50, nearly half of men say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for women, compared with 30% of women.

There are no significant differences in opinion among adults 50 and older: Roughly half of women and men say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for women.

Majorities of Republican men and women say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for women, though Republican men are more likely to say this than women . Small shares of both Democratic men and women say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for women.

These 10 House Republicans Voted To Impeach President Trump

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President Donald Trump has been impeached by the House days before leaving office, becoming the first American president to be impeached twice.

Ten Republican House members voted to impeach President Donald Trump over the deadly insurrection at the Capitol. The GOP votes were in sharp contrast to the unanimous support for Trump among House Republicans when he was first impeached by Democrats in 2019.

Wyoming Rep. Liz Cheney, the third-ranking House Republican, said in a statement, There has never been a greater betrayal by a President of the United States of his office and his oath to the Constitution.

Nine other House Republicans also supported impeachment: Reps. John Katko of New York; Adam Kinzinger of Illinois; Anthony Gonzalez of Ohio; Fred Upton and Peter Meijer of Michigan; Jaime Herrera Beutler and Dan Newhouse of Washington state; Tom Rice of South Carolina; and David Valadao of California.

Don’t Miss: What Color Ties Do Republicans Wear

Republicans Cant Understand Democrats

Only one in four Republican voters felt that most or almost all Democratic voters sincerely believed they were;voting in the best interests of the country.;;Rather, many Republicans told us that Democratic voters were brainwashed by the propaganda of the mainstream media, or voting solely in their self-interest to preserve undeserved welfare and food stamp benefits.

We asked every Republican in the sample to do their best to imagine that they were a Democrat and sincerely believed that the Democratic Party was best for the country.;;We asked them to explain their support for the Democratic Party as an actual Democratic voter might.;;For example, a 64-year-old strong Republican man from Illinois surmised that Democrats want to help the poor, save Social Security, and tax the rich.;;;

But most had trouble looking at the world through Democratic eyes. Typical was a a 59-year-old Floridian who wrote I dont want to work and I want cradle to grave assistance. In other words, Mommy!;Indeed, roughly one in six Republican voters answered in the persona of a Democratic voter who is motivated free college, free health care, free welfare, and so on.;;They see Democrats as voting in order to get free stuff without having to work for it was extremely common roughly one in six Republican voters used the word free in the their answers, whereas no real Democratic voters in our sample answered this way.;

Views Of Trumps Respect For People Like You

Nearly half of Americans say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for people like them, while 52% think he has little or no respect.

These views, like opinions about Trumps respect for various groups, differ widely by race, gender, age and partisanship.

A large majority of Republicans say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for people like them. Among demographic groups, more than half of whites and men younger than 50 say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for people like them.

Younger women, in particular, have a negative view of Trumps respect for people like them: Just 35% say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for people like them nearly 20 percentage points lower than 18- to 49-year-old men . There are no significant differences in opinions among older men and women.

Among religious groups, 74% of white evangelical Protestants say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for people like them, as do 54% of white mainline Protestants. Fewer than half of Catholics say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for people like them; just 34% of those with no religious affiliation and 18% of black Protestants say the same.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Hate John Mccain

Young Americans Are Significantly More Likely To Be Politically Engaged Than They Were A Decade Ago; A Sharp Increase In Progressive Political Values Marked Since 2016

Less than one year after Barack Obamas election, 24% of young Americans considered themselves to be politically active . Twelve years later, we find the share of politically active Americans increased by half and now 36% are politically active. The most politically active among this cohort are young Blacks .;

Over the last five years, on a host of issues ranging from health care, to climate, immigration, poverty, and affirmative action–young Americans are increasingly more likely to favor government intervention. For example, we found:

A 19-point increase in agreement with the statement Qualified minorities should be given special preferences in hiring and education .

An 18-point increase in agreement with the statement Government should do more to curb climate change, even at the expense of economic growth .

A 16-point increase since 2016 in agreement with The government should spend more to reduce poverty .

A 16-point increase in Basic health insurance is a right for all people, and if someone has no means of paying for it, the government should provide it .

An 8-point increase in agreement with Recent immigration into this country has done more good than harm .

Wyoming Rep Liz Cheney

Cheney has had a changeable relationship with Trump throughout her rapid ascension through the ranks of House leadership. But in recent months she has been among his chief critics within the party, and she led the GOP call to impeach him after the riots. In a statement Tuesday night, she said Trump summoned this mob, assembled the mob, and lit the flame of this attack.

First elected to Wyomings sole House seat in 2016, Cheney became the Republican conference chairwoman three years later, calling for a fundamental overhaul of the partys messaging operation. For the former Fox News pundit and daughter of former Vice President Dick Cheney, that meant amped-up attacks on Democrats as socialists whose ideas she sees as an assault to American freedoms, rhetoric that has been adopted by Trumps most ardent supporters.

During Trumps four years in office, Cheney has voted with the president 93 percent of the time, according to CQ Vote Watch, above the GOP average score of 92 percent. But she has broadsided him on core policy issues in recent months, unmoved by her states 70 percent vote for Trump in November.;

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Republican Senators To Watch

The Times reported that Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell believes the president committed impeachable offenses and is pleased at the prospect of his impeachment.

I have not made a final decision on how I will vote and I intend to listen to the legal arguments when they are presented to the Senate,McConnell said on Wednesday.

Pennsylvania Sen. Pat Toomey also said publicly that Trump violated his oath of office.

I do think the president committed impeachable offenses, Toomey told Fox News. Im not sure its desirable to attempt to force him out, what, a day or two or three prior to the day on which hes going to be finished anyway so Im not clear thats the best path forward.

The Seven Republican Senators Who Voted To Impeach Trump Say It Was Their Constitutional Duty

How Republicans Really Feel About Donald Trump

On Feb. 13, 2021, seven Republican senators voted to convict former president Donald Trump for his involvement in the Capitol riots on Jan. 6, 2021. but 17 were needed to find Trump guilty to meet the two-thirds majority rule.;

All seven Republicans that crossed party lines to vote alongside the Democrats faced criticism from voters and other factions within the party, according to CNBCbut who are they and how will the decision affect them?

Senator Richard Burr of North Carolina

;Senator Burr first began his Congressional career in 2004 when he won North Carolinas; Republican Primary. He has now served in the Senate for nearly two decades but is facing censorship from the GOP as a result of his defiant stance in the impeachment trials.;

Censorship is a formal statement of disapproval from the states party, therefore it has no direct repercussions such as removal from office but it can have lasting effects on the senators reputation, thus affecting his or her chances of being reelected. Senator Burr, however, will not be running next year, though there are no reports of the censorship having any influence on this decision.;;

In his trial statement, Senator Burr asserted Trump was responsible for the events that took place at the Capitol, stating, The evidence is compelling that President Trump is guilty of inciting an insurrection against a coequal branch of government;

Senator Bill Cassidy of Louisiana;

Senator Susan Collins of Maine

Read Also: What Major Cities Are Run By Republicans

Why Donald Trump Is Republicans’ Worst Nightmare In 2024

Analysis by Chris Cillizza, CNN Editor-at-large

Earlier this week, amid a rambling attack on the validity of the 2020 election, former President Donald Trump said this: “Interesting that today a poll came out indicating I’m far in the lead for the Republican Presidential Primary and the General Election in 2024.”

“Trump is confiding in allies that he intends to run again in 2024 with one contingency: that he still has a good bill of health, according to two sources close to the former president. That means Trump is going to hang over the Republican Party despite its attempts to rebrand during his exile and its blockade of a Trump-centric investigation into January’s insurrection.”“Manhattan prosecutors pursuing a criminal case against former President Donald Trump, his company and its executives have told at least one witness to prepare for grand jury testimony, according to a person familiar with the matter — a signal that the lengthy investigation is moving into an advanced stage.”

Few Are Very Confident Trump Keeps Business Interests Separate

About four-in-ten Americans say they are very or somewhat confident that Trump keeps his own business interests separate from the decisions he makes as president, while 56% are not too or not at all confident that Trump does this.

Roughly three-quarters of Republicans and Republican leaners express confidence in the president to keep his business interests separate from presidential decisions. Still, a wider majority of conservative Republicans say this than moderate and liberal Republicans .

Fully 85% of Democrats and Democratic leaners say they are not too or not at all confident in Trump to do this, including 68% who say they are not confident at all.

Liberal Democrats are especially likely to say they have no confidence at all in Trump to keep his business interests separate: 77% say this, compared with 62% of conservative and moderate Democrats.

Recommended Reading: Can Republicans Vote On Super Tuesday

Donald Trump Will Be Reinstated To Presidency This Year Third Of Republicans Say In New Poll

Rumors began to swirl this summer that some in former President Donald Trump‘s inner circle expect him to be reinstated to the presidency by the end of the year.

Notably, My Pillow CEO Mike Lindell has repeatedly claimed to posses evidence of voter fraud that could put Trump back in the White House.

Even Trump himself has indicated there is a chance Democrat Joe Biden is removed from office before the next presidential election.

According to a new poll, many Republican voters share these beliefs.

Rep John Katko New York

To impeach a sitting president is a decision I do not take lightly, Rep. John Katko of New Yorks 24th Congressional District said in a statement Tuesday.

As a former federal prosecutor, I approach the question of impeachment by reviewing the facts at hand, he said. To allow the President of the United States to incite this attack without consequence is a direct threat to the future of our democracy. For that reason, I cannot sit by without taking action. I will vote to impeach this President.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Want To Get Rid Of The Epa

Most Republicans Still Believe 2020 Election Was Stolen From Trump Poll

May opinion poll finds that 53% of Republicans believe Trump is the true president compared with 3% of Democrats

A majority of Republicans still believe Donald Trump won the 2020 US presidential election and blame his loss to Joe Biden on baseless claims of illegal voting, according to a new Reuters/Ipsos opinion poll.

The 17-19 May national poll found that 53% of Republicans believe Trump, their partys nominee, is the true president now, compared with 3% of Democrats and 25% of all Americans.

About one-quarter of adults falsely believe the 3 November election was tainted by illegal voting, including 56% of Republicans, according to the poll. The figures were roughly the same in a poll that ran from 13-17 November which found that 28% of all Americans and 59% of Republicans felt that way.

Biden, a Democrat, won by more than 7m votes. Dozens of courts rejected Trumps challenges to the results, but Trump and his supporters have persisted in pushing baseless conspiracy theories on conservative news outlets.

US federal and state officials have said repeatedly they have no evidence that votes were compromised or altered during the presidential election, rejecting the unsubstantiated claims of widespread fraud advanced by Trump and many of his supporters. Voter fraud is extremely rare in the US.

Still, 67% of overall respondents say they trust election officials in their town to do their job honestly, including 58% of Republicans, according to the poll.

In Their Own Words: How People Describe Trumps Presidency

In his first seven months as president, Donald Trump has generally drawn high job approval ratings among Republicans. But a new survey finds that nearly a third of Republicans say they agree with the president on only a few or no issues, while a majority expresses mixed or negative feelings about his conduct as president.

Overwhelming shares of Democrats disagree with Trump on all or nearly all issues and say they do not like his conduct as president.

The survey, conducted by Pew Research Center Aug. 15-21 among 1,893 adults, finds that 15% of Americans say they agree with Trump on all or nearly all issues, while another 18% say they agree with him on many but not all issues. Most say they agree with Trump on either a few issues or no or almost no issues .

Setting issues aside, a majority say they do not like the way Trump conducts himself as president, while 25% have mixed feelings about his conduct. Just 16% say they like the way he conducts himself as president.

Among Republicans and Republican-leaning independents, just 31% say they agree with Trump on all or nearly all issues, while an additional 38% agree with him on many, but not all, issues. Fully 93% of Democrats and Democratic leaners say they agree with Trump on, at most, a few issues, including 77% who report virtually no agreement with Trump on issues.

This report includes results from two separate surveys:

See the Methodology section of this report for more details.

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Opinionwe Want To Hear What You Think Please Submit A Letter To The Editor

The history of American third parties doesn’t offer much hope. Last year, Libertarian presidential candidate Jo Jorgensen garnered just 1.2 percent of the vote in a typical third-party showing. In fact, no third-party candidate has achieved a double-digit popular vote total since Ross Perot in 1992, and data trends indicate that popular support for third parties has been in steady decline since then.

And even if the GOP 2.0 secures a marquee name like former Ohio Gov. John Kasich or Sen. Mitt Romney of Utah to champion its message, the role would likely be as a political spoiler rather than a serious candidate: Even former President Theodore Roosevelt, at the time one of the most popular figures in American culture, barely surpassed a quarter of the popular vote and garnered just 88 electoral votes in an iconic third-party campaign in 1912. No one on the Call for American Renewal bench commands anything near Roosevelt’s profile and platform.

That hasn’t stopped disaffected Republicans from setting their sights on fence-sitting “Biden Republicans” mostly suburban moderates who broke with Trump but remain aligned with GOP ideas like small government that have gone extinct in the post-Trump GOP. Those voters were largely responsible for Trump’s upset victory against Hillary Clinton in 2016, while Biden returned formerly right-leaning suburbs to the Democratic column to help power his 2020 win.

source https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-do-republicans-feel-about-donald-trump/

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patriotsnet · 3 years

Text

How Do Republicans Feel About Donald Trump

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-do-republicans-feel-about-donald-trump/

How Do Republicans Feel About Donald Trump

‘nobody Is Afraid Of Their Grandfather’

How do Republicans move forward without Donald Trump?

Fiscally conservative groups are stepping up campaigns against Biden and his spending proposals.

“Trump never found a salient way to brand Biden, and Republicans continue to struggle after the election,” Republican strategist Alex Conant said.

Gender Differences In Views Of Trumps Respect For Men And Women

Men and women generally think that Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for men. But they differ on how much respect he has for women.

Nearly half of men say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for women, compared with 39% of women.

There are no significant differences in opinion among adults 50 and older: Roughly half of women and men say Trump has at least a fair amount of respect for women.

These 10 House Republicans Voted To Impeach President Trump

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President Donald Trump has been impeached by the House days before leaving office, becoming the first American president to be impeached twice.

Don’t Miss: What Color Ties Do Republicans Wear

Republicans Cant Understand Democrats

Views Of Trumps Respect For People Like You

Nearly half of Americans say Trump has a great deal or fair amount of respect for people like them, while 52% think he has little or no respect.

These views, like opinions about Trumps respect for various groups, differ widely by race, gender, age and partisanship.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Hate John Mccain

Young Americans Are Significantly More Likely To Be Politically Engaged Than They Were A Decade Ago; A Sharp Increase In Progressive Political Values Marked Since 2016

A 19-point increase in agreement with the statement Qualified minorities should be given special preferences in hiring and education .

An 18-point increase in agreement with the statement Government should do more to curb climate change, even at the expense of economic growth .

A 16-point increase since 2016 in agreement with The government should spend more to reduce poverty .

A 16-point increase in Basic health insurance is a right for all people, and if someone has no means of paying for it, the government should provide it .

An 8-point increase in agreement with Recent immigration into this country has done more good than harm .

Wyoming Rep Liz Cheney

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Republican Senators To Watch

The Times reported that Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell believes the president committed impeachable offenses and is pleased at the prospect of his impeachment.

I have not made a final decision on how I will vote and I intend to listen to the legal arguments when they are presented to the Senate,McConnell said on Wednesday.

Pennsylvania Sen. Pat Toomey also said publicly that Trump violated his oath of office.

The Seven Republican Senators Who Voted To Impeach Trump Say It Was Their Constitutional Duty

How Republicans Really Feel About Donald Trump

Senator Richard Burr of North Carolina

Senator Bill Cassidy of Louisiana;

Senator Susan Collins of Maine

Read Also: What Major Cities Are Run By Republicans

Why Donald Trump Is Republicans’ Worst Nightmare In 2024

Analysis by Chris Cillizza, CNN Editor-at-large

Few Are Very Confident Trump Keeps Business Interests Separate

Fully 85% of Democrats and Democratic leaners say they are not too or not at all confident in Trump to do this, including 68% who say they are not confident at all.

Liberal Democrats are especially likely to say they have no confidence at all in Trump to keep his business interests separate: 77% say this, compared with 62% of conservative and moderate Democrats.

Recommended Reading: Can Republicans Vote On Super Tuesday

Donald Trump Will Be Reinstated To Presidency This Year Third Of Republicans Say In New Poll

Rumors began to swirl this summer that some in former President Donald Trump‘s inner circle expect him to be reinstated to the presidency by the end of the year.

Notably, My Pillow CEO Mike Lindell has repeatedly claimed to posses evidence of voter fraud that could put Trump back in the White House.

Even Trump himself has indicated there is a chance Democrat Joe Biden is removed from office before the next presidential election.

According to a new poll, many Republican voters share these beliefs.

Rep John Katko New York

To impeach a sitting president is a decision I do not take lightly, Rep. John Katko of New Yorks 24th Congressional District said in a statement Tuesday.

Also Check: Why Do Republicans Want To Get Rid Of The Epa

Most Republicans Still Believe 2020 Election Was Stolen From Trump Poll

May opinion poll finds that 53% of Republicans believe Trump is the true president compared with 3% of Democrats

The 17-19 May national poll found that 53% of Republicans believe Trump, their partys nominee, is the true president now, compared with 3% of Democrats and 25% of all Americans.

Still, 67% of overall respondents say they trust election officials in their town to do their job honestly, including 58% of Republicans, according to the poll.

In Their Own Words: How People Describe Trumps Presidency

Overwhelming shares of Democrats disagree with Trump on all or nearly all issues and say they do not like his conduct as president.

This report includes results from two separate surveys:

See the Methodology section of this report for more details.

You May Like: Why Do Republicans Hate Ted Cruz

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megacircuit9universe · 4 years

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Fly Boy

WED OCT 07 2020

Tonight we had the Vice Presidential debate between Mike Pence and Kamala Harris. And as such debates go, it felt pretty unremarkable... except for the fact that a fly chose to land on Pence’s bright white head and stay there, unnoticed by Pence, for over two minutes.

TikTok had videos of people’s cats at home, trying to get the fly off Pence’s head... because, you know... HD television these days, and... a black fly in a sea of snow white hair is impossible to miss.

And you might be thinking, you’re just pickig on some random act of nature, to embarass Pence, rather than dealing with the substance of his arguments, because you’re lazy and biased!

But I would answer that this fly on his head was incredibly symbolic of what made this debate truly unique and remarkable... because the fly is a symbol of death. And death... is now the central issue of the election.

Return with me in your memory to eight days ago... the Tuesday night Presidential debate between Trump and Biden. That was the last night, in which we did not yet know that Trump, most of the white house, and a good many more GOP elites in other high seats... were all positive for Covid.

A few entries back, after the conventions, I wrote that the tone of the two campaigns was now set in stone. Biden/Harris would focus on the pandemic, while Trump Pence would ignore the pandemic, and focus on the lawless chaos of protests and rioting.

We’ll set aside the absurdity of blaming Biden for protests and rioting that are happening on Trump’s watch... as the result of the great civil and economic unrest created by Trump’s incompetence in the face of a crisis...

...and focus on the fact that now, in the first full business week of October, and just 8 days after the first debate... Covid19 is undeniably, inescapably front and center.

Not because the numbers are ticking up again, due to the fall weather creeping in (but they are).

Not because Biden/Harris have been banging the drum about it to any exceptional degree.

Rather because Trump himself is now positive... was hospitalized... and has since become a roid-raging lunatic about it... at the same time as it’s spreading like wildfire through the White House, and beyond... to GOP elites in other branches of government.

The massive failure of leadership, this betrays, could not be more obvious to the public, and cannot be overstated.

With more power than any other human on the planet... Trump could not protect himself, or the White House, or congressmen and governors who attended a White House event... from Covid19.

And like a black-light at a rave, exposing all the invisible stains on your clothing and your skin... this White House outbreak has all of their hands glowing very brightly, with the blood of the two-hundred and ten thousand Americans who have died of the novel virus over the past seven months.

If your arrogance, and ignorance are so blinding... that you can’t even keep yourself and the White House (or Pentagon!) safe... then you haven’t a leg to stand on when pretending you did anything at all to save a single life out there in the electorate.

The fly, in everyday life, is seen as a harmless nuisance... but occasionally we’re reminded that... oh yeah... they do really love dead bodies, don’t they? And for that reason, they are occasionally portrayed in movies as attendants of evil.

And tonight, just as they could not keep Covid from breaching the White House... Pence and his team could not keep out every last fly from the debate space... and could not keep the one who got through, from attending to his evil master’s side.

But lest you think I’m getting overly dramatic, let’s look at tonight’s debate from a different angle...

If the Trump/Pence administration had done everything exactly the same, through 2017, 2018, and 2019... with all the controversey they created...

...if they’d simply dealt with Caronavirus in 2020 the way any other previous administration would have; giving the CDC the reigns and taking credit when the curve flattened... leading by example, by simply wearing masks in photo ops... encouraging congress to write up some fat stimulus bills to help the public survive quarantine, and keep small businesses afloat... and preaching a little unity in times of adversity...

...they would be untouchable, here in October of the election year!

The Biden/Harris ticket would look like a white flag of surrender from the Democrats... just a token ticket of losers to run for the sake of running... that everybody would understand, were gonna be steam rolled under the momentum of another incumbent administration getting it’s God-given second term.

Both last weeks Presidential, and this week’s Vice Presidential debates would have been walks in the park for Trump and Pence, who would have both been relaxed, jovial, and 100% Covid free... because the death toll would be low, the virus would’ve been under control for months, there would never have been any protests, much less rioting, and even if the economy wasn’t booming... people would still feel confident that the government was doing their best to have their backs.

They would be untouchable... despite... babies in cages being lost to human trafficking... cover ups of endless criminal scandals... amassing executive power while deconstructing checks and balances... and all the other atrocities and naked power grabs of their first three years.

Instead, here in October 2020, the only issue is Covid, and it’s death toll.

Nobody cares right now about last summer’s protests and riots. And nobody cares about illegal imigrants, for God’s sake, in a world where Americans are barred from flying to any other country on the planet, because we’re the filthy diseased losers... and even our President is a defiant super spreader.

A defiant super spreader who, two days ago, shut down any hope of a second stimulus package until he’s reelected... which is another way of saying he’s taking the nation hostage, demanding reelection.

The first stimulus was extremely disappointing... at first promising everyody 1200.00 a month until the crisis was over... but then only being a one time payment of 1200.00 last April, which did virtually nothing to help... and left us all hanging out to dry for five long months.

Here in October, no sign of any further aid... and only the promise to withold all aid until a reelection? How monsterous!

This, from a crazed, steroid-addled lunatic who can’t possibly win without Wisconsin, Arizona, and Florida. He needs all three to have any chance, and they’re all leaning blue, which means any one of them will definitely flip, if he’s fucking over the working class voters of their big cities by promising zero stimulus.

And while it DID look, as recently as last September, and last August, like these strong man tactics could actually prevail... like Trump might just bully himself into a second term through relentless intimidation... well, the firm ground he stood upon has lately turned to quicksand.

It was less than two weeks ago, I was writing that people need to lose the superstition about Trump being magical... and fated to win against all odds.

A day later, was saying that the New York Times had gotten a single drop of blood from the Mad Titan, by publishing his tax returns and showing he was not a billionaire, but in fact, billions in debt... and that this was a good sign, because it exposed a bit of weakness.

But since then... the house of cards has collapsed very quickly. And not because of another expose’... but because he got Covid... which has exposed him as not only mortal, and non-magical... but also pathetically weak when it comes to the basic self preservation abilities we would attribute to any strong man worth his salt.

And since then he’s just been slipping and sliding... crashing the stock market with a single tweet... floundering desperately to get any political footing at all, while Biden is running further away with the lead every day.

God’s not just bleeding... he’s on the floor, reaching out for a grab bar that nobody installed, because those are only for invalids.

How he comes back from this to win four more years... with less than one lunation before Election Day*... is difficult to fathom.

We could learn tomorrow that Pence too, is Covid positive... or that the stock market is finally falling over a cliff... or that the pandemic is raging back with a vengeance... or that civil unrest is sparking anew... or any combination of the above... making life ever more insecure and intolerable for average Americans as we get closer to November 3rd.

Could we learn tomorrow that things are instead turning around?

Nearly impossible.

But, we’ll see.

Go to bed.

*October 2020 began with a full moon on the 1st.�� It will end with another full moon on the 31st. On November 3rd, it will be a slightly waning gibbous moon... still close to being full.

At the time of writing, the moon, that was full on the 1st has already waned to a half moon... which means that the election is less than one lunation away. We will be at new moon on the 16th, and after that... the ever growing crescent will count down the nights to D-day.

It’s coming fast, and the poll results now... and the events that transpire now... mean everything for the outcome.

And nobody and nothing... can halt the moon in it’s phases.

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leorugiet · 6 years

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I've just came across your blog not too long ago, and following up from the last anons questions, I'm just wondering, what mental health problems does Cor have and how did he get them/deal with them? Did Regis, Clarus, Cid and Weskham know about them and/or try to help with them?

Warning, some mention of death and torture below.

(Totally understandable anon, I have yet to write proper headcanon posts in depth, and I’m currently thinking things over and revamping some ideas, such as Cor’s family, his childhood, how he joined, but some core things I felt strongly related to him I kept in an askmeme responses I called a ‘diary meme’ where for the most part, I wrote about Cor’s history in some aspects. Basically, I need to actually write them as a post instead of an ask at a later time.

Cor is evenly introverted/extroverted, he can feel tired and also energized by certain people, or even the same people. He’s a soldier, he’s been a soldier since 12 years old. He felt estranged and isolated because of his age disconnect, and also becoming a veteran at age 14 aged him fast. He was a stern bitchy teen with some take no shit attitude even though it was literally his job to take everyone’s bullshit as a soldier.

The first time he ‘fell in love’ with someone is King Mors. He was manipulated, confused, gaslighted, and physically hurt akin to tortured by Mors. This totally has to do with my idea of what King Mors must’ve been like, as we only have two lines of information about this man. He lowered the wall, and gave away territories of Lucis to Niflheim, basically, he sounds self-preserving and detrimental to the country, if he couldn’t handle his country well, I imagine he didn’t handle his servants and shields well.

Cor’s self esteem doesn’t drop, it falls off a fucking cliff, and it’ll take decades to fix the things that King Mors did to him. Cor cried when Mors died, he loved his King, he was so devoted and proud of his work. He doesn’t recognize how cruel and manipulative the man was because he fell in love with him, and Cor didn’t even realize that’s what he did. He was too young to know what it all meant. His cigar burns and cigarette burns, some of them are so deep he still has scars.

PTSD didn’t come until some time after King Mors, although acute issues had developed already, Cor had seen many people die in the war around age 15. The biggest hit is when Cor was in his 20′s. I have a headcanon that on one Zegnautus docking day, Cor commanded a stealth alpha team to infiltrate the Keep. They were caught, imprisoned, tortured, interrogated, and killed. They tortured Cor, although it was excruciating, Cor did not bend. So they tried something else; they tortured his team, viciously, beyond repair, and made him watch. One of them was tortured too hard, and killed after only three days. To make it worse, they left the body in their prison cell so the rest of the team had to see it.

Cor was in Zegnautus for three months before a repeat mission was done with another group. By then, Cor was the only surviving member, the other five had perished, and Cor was almost dead. He recovered, but still amassed multiple scars, physical, and mental. Cor met with a mental health service, but he pleaded for them to never say he had PTSD. He was sure the diagnosis would get him discharged from the military. Eventually he convinces them.

Because he actively sought the military to serve the King, and not to help himself, he went down a spiral of reliving the past, hurting himself, nightmares, attacking people, blackouts, and other things that filled him with dread. He is actively trying so hard to never show these symptoms, and developed OCD as a method of coping, using measuring, cleaning, counting, and so on, in order to focus on the task at hand. The OCD is complex in it’s own right, but I’ve rambled, so I won’t explain the mechanics.

The situation with his childhood, his time with King Mors, the events in Zegnautus Keep, and overall the way military treats people is very emotionally taxing and grating on Cor.

During the time Cor spent with the four (Regis, Clarus, Cid, and Weskham) Weskham is much more socially aware, and picked up on the fact that Cor liked Mors, enough to leave him alone. Weskham broke up a lot of fights between Cor and Cid, as Cid was very vocal about how rotten the King was. Regis was also vocal about it, so Cor was bitter at Regis, but still respectful to him as he was royalty. They lose Weskham in Accordo (in my headcanon of the events 30 years ago) where Cor actually leaves the group, and then Cid, leaving Regis and Clarus to be the two that remained close.

Cor has learned to treat them with respect, and not act the way he did during King Mors’s times, Cor is a respecful man. I notice he always uses more respectful and kind words with Regis and Clarus, which implied to me that he was not very close. With Noctis however, he’s more like a mentor, and encouraging while not being too praising. He’s caring of Prompto too, even in the short amount of dialogue, and in Episode Gladio it’s evident he cares for Gladio and respects the Amicitia deeply. Cor seemed closer to them than to his own peers, of course, purely based on speculation.

It’s going to take a looong time for him to come to terms with healing and getting better, and as it is right now I’m writing that he actually deals with them in the World of Ruin setting, as I’ve mentioned so many times that Cor looks just a bit healthier in the FFXV Royal Edition. So! Hopefully I can organize that soon enough, and write it straight and simple and not… a clusterfuck like this post.

tl;dr: My Cor is headcanon to have PTSD comorbid OCD and a manner of other social issues that he is able to hide very well to serve the task at hand. He is a soldier, after all.

#ooc #ignore me #mun speaks #headcanon #death tw #torture tw #gore sort of #tw #Anonymous

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dannofaust · 4 years

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Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a great holiday season. I am excited to begin the new year because in just four months I will officially be retired and in just over six months my Mississippi River trip will begin. At least I hope it will begin. We will have to wait and see what Mother Nature has to say about that. River levels and overnight temperatures will dictate my actual starting date. My tentative starting date is June 15th.

This seems like the perfect time to look back at the previous year and ponder my journey of preparation during 2019. It’s been fun writing this blog. I’ve learned a lot and grown a bit, but I think the most rewarding thing about the Glory Days blog is being able to go back and relive this experience. Without this written record of the things that have happened over the last eighteen months or so, many of the details and memories would be lost. I probably already forgotten a million little details that I didn’t write about, but having these few memories preserved is quite nice. They may not mean much to anyone else, but they represent a little part of my life that I want to remember.

In January there are pool sessions. Just like last year I will be traveling to Peoria for pool sessions with the Mackinaw Canoe Club at the Central Park Pool. It seems like a long time ago, but last year at this time I was still paddling my beloved Vesper kayak. Looking back now, it’s hard for me to believe I had actually intended to use that kayak for e entire trip down the Mississippi. The Vesper is a fine recreation kayak, but it has no bulkheads, no perimeter lines, minimal interior space ( aka volume ), and simply wasn’t a good choice for what I am planning to do. It’s kind of scary to think that I had let my ego talk myself into using that boat. Oh, it could be done. People use recreational craft even less well suited to the task each year. Some of them make it all the way to the Gulf. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. I don’t really want to be one of those people and I am thankful that Bob Alexander and Karen Kyle talked some sense into me. I also appreciate the gentle and patient way they nudged me in the right direction. So I guess I learned a lot more at those pool session than just rolling my kayak.

March brought back the annual pilgrimage to Canoecopia in Madison, Wisconsin. I hadn’t been to Canoecopia in quite a long time prior to 2019. It was good to get back there and immerse myself into the paddlesports culture again. There was so much going on in such a short amount of time. Canoecopia is always sensory overload for me. There is just no way my little brain can process it all. Looking back on it now I think, why didn’t I take a bazillion more photos and talk to more people while I was there. The truth is, I’m never very comfortable in a crowd, and Canoecopia is always crowded. It’s a super popular event, and for good reason. I think my brain had kind of shut down a bit and I was just trying to cope with the situation.

Overall though, Canoecopia 2019 was a great experience. One of the best parts of the weekend was meeting Traci Lynn Martin. She was so sweet to me. I can’t imagine the courage and determination it takes to peruse the circumnavigation of the five Great Lakes in a single calendar year. I also can’t imagine the heartbreak of coming up just a little bit short few years earlier. One thing that Traci has been through that I can relate to is the loss of her mother. It was a turning point in Traci’s life and a big influence that lead her to her quest to paddle the Great Lakes. Traci has such a wonderful story to tell and a powerful message for anyone who suffers from chronic pain. I wrote four blog posts about my Canoecopia 2019 weekend. The post that included meeting Traci was by far my most popular post up until that time and is still in the top two or three posts so far. Traci is scheduled to tackle the Great Lakes again this year ( 2020 ) and I will be watching her progress and cheering her on, even as I start my own trip.

March brought about one of the biggest changes of the year for me, the acquisition of my Wilderness System Tsunami 145. I had been thinking about the need for a better kayak. Bob and Karen’s message was slowly sinking in through my thick skull, and then … out of nowhere … I see this beautiful kayak listed for sale in a FaceBook post. I had a little bit of money in my budget from the sale of surplus canoes in our fleet, so I literally jumped at the opportunity and within a couple of hours I was returning from Galesburg, Illinois with a nearly new boat. Always cautious and slow to change, I wasn’t entirely convinced that I had made the right decision, but it didn’t take long for me to begin to grasp what a wonderful upgrade the Tsunami was. The tracking of the Tsunami is phenomenal compared to the Vesper. With the addition of two sealed bulkheads, perimeter lines, better bungee lines, and much more interior volume the Tsunami is far superior for the task at hand. My one last area of concern was how easily would it be to self rescue in the Tsunami? I needn’t have worried. The Tsunami rolls easily and is much easier to deal with should I ever have to exit the boat in deep water and then self rescue.

April is always a month that I look forward to. My birthday is in April. April means warmer weather and all the glories of Spring. This year I am a little extra excited about April because I will be retiring at the end of the month. I can hardly wait for that. Last April brought about a bittersweet experience though. It was time for me to part ways with my trusty Vesper kayak. I had paddled that kayak for hundreds of miles on many different rivers and streams, large and small. We had been through a lot together. I knew the time had come though. We don’t need an extra kayak right now and I had spent almost all of my Mississippi River trip budget on the Tsunami. Sadly, the Vesper had to go. She was already all cleaned up from doing pool sessions, so I snapped a few photos and listed her for sale. I was quite gratified to almost immediately receive some responses to the ads. The most enthusiastic of those responses was from a young lady in Michigan. Her name is Katie. The whole process happened very quickly with a flurry of messages going back and forth. We settled on a plan and met at a McDonald parking lot near Joliet, Illinois. As I drove north on Interstate 55 to meet Katie, I began to worry that she wasn’t the person I wanted to sell my kayak to. I worried that she didn’t have enough experience and didn’t really know what she was buying. I worried that she wouldn’t want to pay the price we had agreed to. I even worried that she wouldn’t have a proper roof rack to haul the kayak or know how to secure it properly. Boy, was I wrong. I was worried about nothing. Katie knew exactly what she was doing and had the situation well under control. We completed the transaction even quicker than I could have imagined and suddenly the Vesper was gone. I was sad to drive away without her, but I felt great about the new home she had with Katie.

April was also when I wrote about “Energy Bars” and we did our big energy bar taste off. I roped my daughter, my sister, and my brother-in-law into sampling more than a dozen different energy bars and then giving their opinions of each one. It was a fun ( I use that term loosely) and interesting experience that we still talk about. The best part was that it was a shared experience. By the time we got to the end, even my wife had joined in. Doing things with the family is always great. I’m glad We did that together and that I wrote about it. It’s one of those memories that I want to hold onto.

May meant that the weather was getting warm and paddling season was underway in earnest. I had just finished a short day trip on the Vermilion River not far from home at the end of April. With the weather getting warmer and an upgraded kayak to become more familiar with, I was eager to get out on the water. More day trips close to home soon followed. My first big trip of the season was the Des Plaines River Canoe and Kayak Marathon.

I followed that up with an epic trip from the headwaters of the Vermilion River back to my home here in Pontiac, Illinois. That trip covered just over 40 miles in a single day. That’s the most river miles I have ever done in one day. It was a day where everything seemed to fall into place and just work perfectly with very little effort from me. The current was swift, but there were few obstacle to make things difficult. I had my kayak fully loaded so that I could experience what it would be like to paddle it that way. It handled great. The wind seemed to always be at my back. The water level had even dropped just enough to allow me safe passage under a low railroad bridge that had required a portage just the day before. The sun was shining and the air temperature was very pleasant. Every day on the river is great, but I have rarely experienced such a perfect day of paddling. I had no intentions of paddling that far when I started the trip, but with everything in my favor, it just worked out that way.

June saw me paddling 18 miles through the scenic Fox River Dells with a group of Northern Illinois paddlers and then doing multiple trips on the Middle Fork of the Vermilion River Danville, Illinois. Those were some memorable trips for sure. My wife and I and our daughter Jennifer did our only camping trip of the year at the Kickapoo State Recreational Area. So many wonderful memories. The blog posts I wrote about those trips became the most popular so far. I could write several more posts based on those trips.

July was time to celebrate a great paddling tradition here in Pontiac, Illinois. That’s when the Vermilion River Canoe Race takes place. 2019 marked the 50th anniversary of this great event so I felt like I had to enter the race. Who could pass up the opportunity to be part of a historical event like that. I’m not a racer and it showed, but it was still an awesome experience with wonderful camaraderie. I was completely exhausted at the end of the race, but I was still smiling and had fun. I also slept very well that night.

August was a time where my paddling slowed down a bit. Even though I didn’t write about it, most of my paddling happened close to home. I did get a chance to try Stand Up Paddle Boarding on Lake Erie near Cleveland, Ohio while on vacation with my wife and daughter. We all tried it and had a good time. I fell of just once. It was more difficult than I had anticipated.

September started a trend that has continued right through to the end of the year on the Glory Days blog. That trend was “Food”. I had touched on the subject earlier in the year with the energy bar review, but I didn’t realize how much I needed to discuss this subject or how reader would react to it.

October was consumed with more of the same discussion about food, budgeting, and nutrition. It has been surprising to me to see how those three things are so closely s related for my trip. Food and nutrition obviously go together, but budgeting is a big factor that ties it al together. Those three things effect nearly every other aspect of the trip, in one way or the other, too.

November was time when I looked back at some of the paddlers I had been following as they did their trips down the Mississippi. I learned so much from following along via Facebook and the Mississippi River Paddlers Group. If there is any one piece of advice I could give to anyone else thinking about doing a Source to Sea Mississippi River trip, it would be to join that group, follow along with every post, and ask plenty of questions. In my humble opinion, there’s no better way to learn than from the people who have done it and/or are doing it currently ( pun intended ).

December was another slow month for paddling because of the holidays, but unseasonably warm weather did allow me to get out and do a fell local day trips. The most notable of these was my last paddling trip of the year with an old friend and paddling mentor, Gene Grider. I hadn’t paddled with Gene in a long time. There had been a lot of water under the bridge and a lot of changes in each of our lives since the last time we had seen each other, so it was very rewarding to catch up and enjoy a beautiful late December day on the river together. A great ending to a great paddling year.

2019 was a good year. I can hardly wait to see what 2020 has in store. I wish you all the very best for this coming year! Cheers for a great start! Thanks for reading!

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that don’t work.” – Thomas A. Edison

Previous Post: “Nutrition – Part 2”

Next Post: “2020 – A Year of Discoveries”

2019 Year in Review Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a great holiday season. I am excited to begin the new year because in just four months I will officially be retired and in just over six months my Mississippi River trip will begin.

#2019 #camping food #dan fast #Dan Faust #dan fouts #diet #food #Glory Days #kayak #Kayaking #lessons #Mississippi River #outdoor #Tsunami 145

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