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cassandraclare · 3 years

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The Letter Game (in full)

Many have asked to read last week’s letter game in a slightly simpler format. So here it is, for everyone’s enjoyment in plain text, under the cut. The action takes place between Chain of Gold and Chain of Iron. Read on . . .

1: INVITATION

To all and sundry—

The leaves are changing, and with them the season. It grows colder in London by the day, and even without the pestilence that recently ravaged us, even without demons breathing down our necks, cold with chill—now is the time for all good Shadowhunters to come to one another’s aid, and support one another in that most hallowed Nephilim tradition: song and dance.

So, a Musicale! The Townsends are pleased to invite the Enclave, in toto, to our West End home this Friday’s eve. Refreshments will of course be served, but the entertainment will be provided by you, our esteemed guests and friends. We would be so honored if you would help us welcome the coming of winter by bringing your most excellent capers and ballads, to keep us warm.

Grahame and Millie Townsend

2: Lucie » Cordelia

Cordelia, my sister, the very twin of my own heart,

Can you believe the Townsends’ invitation? How pretentious can one be, I ask you! It took all four Herondales an hour of discussion to conclude that “Friday’s eve” meant simply Friday evening rather than the eve before Friday (that is, Thursday). And is the demons or our necks that are meant to be cold with chill? “Cold with chill!” As a writer of words—no, even only as a reader of words—I am offended.

I digress, however. I write to ask whether you will be attending, as that will be significant to my own decision of whether to go. I asked James, and he was unenthused but “supposed” that “we must.” So I wish to let you know that if you don’t fancy attending, I believe James could be easily convinced. But, as unpleasant a night as it promises, I fear he may be correct that “we must.” You and he, after all, must do the social rounds as a betrothed pair, and I—well, I can hardly sit alone in my bedroom all night while all my friends witness Catherine Townsend’s cold-blooded murder of “O mio babbino caro.”

So whatever your preference, I will be amenable. We can put on our frills and watch the most foolish of our set warble and prance, and at least we will have each other’s company and champagne. Or, if you’d prefer, tea and draughts in the Institute parlour. I am yours to command, my warrior-sister.

(I have realized only at this moment that perhaps you not only wish to attend but to perform yourself; if that is the case, I retract all previous mentions of warbling in favor of my unconditional enthusiastic support. I will even accompany you, if you wish, but I am not very good at the spinnet so please, something fairly slow would be best.)

Yours ever across the still waters of time and space,

L. Herondale

3: Ariadne » Anna

Dear Miss Lightwood,

I expect that you will have received the same invitation to the Townsends’ Musicale that the rest of the Enclave has. I write with the question of whether it’s your intention to attend, and to say that I hope that you will, and that I hope to see you there.

It’s not your sort of party, of course—dull, bourgeois, and stuffy, I imagine you’d say—but since as the daughter of the Inquisitor I am rarely able to appear at the more lively gatherings that you prefer, I do plan to attend myself, much as I would rather be elsewhere. (At one of those lively gatherings, perhaps?) Catherine will have my head if I am not there to keep her mother out of her hair, for one thing, and for another…well, I wish to see you.

I have it on fairly good authority that your brother and his roisterous band, or whatever they call themselves, are planning to be there. So I also write to implore you to come so that a cooler head will be present and any explosions, or implosions, or indeed bedlam of any kind, will be, if not prevented, at least more easily contained and cleaned up after.

For the event I am thinking of a dress I have, in a deep ruby color, with a rather striking neckline. I am no great judge of my own appearance, but I do know your taste and I daresay you will find it flatters me. For your part, I hope you will wear those pinstriped trousers you have. You have not worn them in an age, and I miss them, or rather, I miss how elegantly you wear them.

In short, I hope to see you there.

I know it is not your habit to keep letters from admirers, but rather to use them to kindle your fireplace. Perhaps that will be the destiny of this note as well, but I believe not. I come to you not as an admirer, after all, but as a friend, and one who wishes you all the best things in the world—

Yrs.,

Ariadne Bridgestock

4: Anna » Matthew

Mr. Fairchild—

Matthew, I have instructed the courier bringing you this note to evaluate your sobriety and, if it is found wanting, to slap you across the face twice. Straighten up and pay attention, you debauched fool. It’s still breakfast-time. And this is important.

Are you going to the Townsends’ musicale?

Let me rephrase: if you know what’s good for you, you will be going to the Townsends’ musicale.

I hope to enjoy your company there, of course, as my friend and companion. But also, to be frank, I will need the support. My night was free and so I told them I would be there, but I wasn’t thinking, and now I’ve received a note from one A.B., letting me know in no uncertain terms that she will definitely be attending as well. It will be a large gathering, no doubt, and most of our time will be spent watching Thoby Baybrook chase after the juggling-balls he keeps dropping during his performance, rather than close-quarters socializing. But—and I trust in your confidence on this matter—I find I flutter with nerves. Imagine. I never flutter!

I hope I can count on you. I am not usually in the business of begging favors. However, this is an unusual situation. Matthew: she will be wearing the burgundy dress.

Anna

5: Ariadne » Matthew

To Matthew Fairchild—

All right, I’ve sent the letter. Against my better judgment, I should add. It seems more likely to drive her away than to attract her, to be honest, but you have her confidence in ways that I no longer do. If you think she is more likely to be there as a result, I will trust in your plan.

However.

I am fully aware that under most circumstances neither she nor you would be found as such a dreary party as an Enclave-wide musicale. (Nor would I, but as the daughter of the, et cetera et cetera, I hardly need to tell you.) So let this note serve as, not a threat, but a promise: if you even think about ditching the party for one of your Downworlder orgies, or whatever your usual scene, and you leave me and her to awkward politesse over stale canapes without showing up yourself…I will follow you to the ends of the Earth and your life will be forfeit. Forfeit, Fairchild. I daresay I can best you in a duel three times out of four, but also be assured I am very good with a dagger in the dark.

I look forward to enjoying this merry entry in the social season with you. I will see you there.

Yours sincerely,

Ariadne Bridgestock

6: Matthew » Cordelia

No, that won’t do at all. There are already other C’s. Christopher, for instance. Also Caiaphas, a werewolf from whom I sometimes purchase wine. (He has an excellent nose, you see.)

Cordelia Carstairs, you need not worry about the Townsends’ party. First, none of Our Lot are planning to perform at all, but merely hang back and watch the festivities while imbibing and filling seats. You certainly shouldn’t worry that you’ll be asked to dance as you did at the Ruelle. This will not be the Ruelle. It will be far more insipid.

I’m sure J is focused entirely on your responsibilities as an engaged couple to make the rounds and be seen by the whey-faced provincials of the Enclave. He is correct, as always, the bastard, but he worries too much. Rest assured that we Thieves will be concocting a plan in which we are able to (1) have a good time at the most boring gathering of the season and (2) not miss cake. (I don’t know if you have had cake at the Townsends’. They are a tedious family, but their cook is some kind of confection-obsessed elf who performs great conjurings with spun sugar and buttercream.) (Yes, he really is an elf, I think. Or Catherine was having me on. His ears are fairly pointed, in any event.)

I do not particularly anticipate this musicale with great pleasure, but I do, of course, anticipate the opportunity to spend time in your presence with great relish. Truly, my parabatai could not have picked a more suitable bride with whom to be mutually bored to tears at parties for years to come. I suggest that for this one you bring a flask to tuck into your reticule. If you don’t, worry not; I will bring two. At least two.

I remain, as always, yours sincerely, etc etc,

Matthew Fairchild

7: James » Thieves

CONFIDENTIAL—DO NOT DISTRIBUTE—ON PAIN OF TORTURE—THIS MEANS YOU

Merriest of Thieves,

After extensive discussion, we’ve reached consensus (or as close as we will come) on our plan for Having Fun At the Townsends’ Musicale Even Though It Is a Musicale Hosted By the Townsends. (A variety of alternate names were proposed, but all have been vetoed by the plan’s organizer, that is, myself. Please do not continue to send proposed names, Matthew.)

Our esteemed colleague Christopher has, it seems, been working in his spare time on a new method of rapidly sending written messages without the use of couriers. Instead, messages are sent with a combination of runes (so bring your steles) and a propellant of Christopher’s own invention. I’m told that the technique is not yet flawless, but Mr Lightwood reports that it is ready to be shown and tested, and what better place than a party at which missing the main entertainment would be not disappointing, but rather a great relief.

Down a corridor from the Townsends’ main parlour is a small games room. I say games room, but in truth it is empty of games, and nobody ever uses it. It is windowless and a bit close, but mostly empty of furnishings and a suitable location for a scientific demonstration. Even better, the corridor itself departs the parlour with a dog-leg, and once one has passed around the corner, one is invisible to the notice of the other partygoers. (See attached floor plan of the first storey of the house; thanks to TL for his freehand drafting skills.)

This plan assumes that none of you are planning to perform in the musicale itself; if this is not the case, then MF wishes me to remind you both of your loyalties and to the overall philistine-like qualities of most of the guests.

Surely this will provide sufficient entertainment to get us all through the evening.

The party is only one days away, so if there are any questions about this plan, please hiss them to me sotto voce tomorrow night while Millie Townsend is performing her murder ballads.

Courage, half a league, half a league onward, and so on,

James H

PS: For those whose main draw to this party is Morgaint’s famous Victoria sponge, Christopher assures me that we should be done well in time for dessert. (I should add a warning that it should not be referred to as a Victoria sponge within earshot of Morgaint, as he will lecture you at length about the recipe’s preceding Victoria by centuries, the history of confection in pre-Roman Britain, and so on. He is very temperamental, even for a faerie.)

8: Thomas » Alastair

Dear Mr Carstairs—

We have not spoken in many weeks, presumably as a result of the unfortunate circumstances under which we last met. Nevertheless, I write this evening to extend my wishes for your family’s continued health and good fortune.

As I’m sure you know, this Friday marks an Enclave-wide social event at the home of the Mr and Mrs Townsend. I know that your sister will be in attendance, with her fiancé. The Lightwoods—Eugenia, Anna, Christopher, and myself—are also planning to be there. And, of course, we expect the family of our esteemed Consul, including both of her sons, to make an appearance.

Shall we expect to see you there? I ask merely because if so, I will not be attending. I understand that as your family will be there you have every right to attend, so I am happy to be the one who bows out of the evening.

Yours sincerely,

Mr T. Lightwood

9: Alastair » Thomas

Mr Lightwood

Tom

Look, you,

I am amazed and impressed by the effrontery of you writing to me to ask whether I will be attending an event only to them tell me that if I attend, you will not. No doubt you are feeling aggrieved about the last time we met. Well, so am I. Jests and pranks from our schoolboy years are hardly a good enough reason for the kind of public humiliation I suffered, both from Matthew Fairchild’s rude outburst and your own. The very thought of attending a party with the likes of you sends me into a mixture of, on the one hand, paroxysms of helpless laughter, and on the other, a thumping headache of barely contained fury that I

[letter discarded, not sent]

Mr Lightwood,

Thank you for your kind letter. I am, of course, aware of the upcoming affair at the home of the Townsends, through the usual means of receiving my own request to attend. It would seem to me obvious that I had no need of being informed about the party as though I would otherwise be ignorant of it. Unlike some of the London Shadowhunter families, the Townsends have only ever been courteous to the Carstairs family, and the implication that I wouldn’t have received exactly the same invitation that you did is exactly the kind of nonsense that

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I won’t be attending the Townsends’ musicale, as I am already committed to a preferable previous engagement cleaning out the pigeon cages in the Regent’s Park Zoo.

Thank you for thinking of me.

Receipt of your letter is hereby acknowledged.

I don’t know why you would write to me at all, but please do not write back to try to explain.

[letter discarded, not sent]

Thomas,

I do want to apologize, I have tried to apologize, but every time I come near you a wall of your friends prevents me from doing so. You can hardly hold it against me that I have not apologized when you will not allow me to do so. Yes, I know what I did rises far above the level of a jest or a prank. But one must be allowed to make amends somehow, for otherwise what is there? Hopelessness? Not I suppose that you care much what I feel. Just because you are beloved of your friends, and ridiculously tolerably handsome, you think —

[Letter discarded, not sent]

10: Cordelia » James

J—

Do you need rescuing? Everyone is in the games room for Christopher’s demonstration, even Thomas, who has spent most of the evening hiding from my brother. You on the other hand have been waylaid in the corner with Mrs Whatshername. I tried to get close enough to intervene but was swept away myself by Mr Townsend, who wanted to tell me about his travels in the Levant when he was a younger man. Could not tell if he was confused about my family’s origins or he simply assumed anyone would be fascinated by his tales of camels and pyramids. Anyway, M suggests he could interrupt and scold you for ignoring your betrothed. Lucie says you are ignoring your betrothed, but don’t listen to her, I know you are far too polite to interrupt a member of the older set. (If you yourself remember, please remind me of her name when you come.)

Come as soon as you can. Do not allow Mrs Whatshername to follow you.

Daisy

11: Christopher » Thieves

To: James, Lucie, Matthew, Thomas, Cordelia, Anna, Ariadne

From: Christopher

In an ideal world, I would have been able to send you this note through this very technique I am demonstrating tonight, but it does make a fairly loud bang, and I thought that would likely give the game away. Though I wish to not allow social proprieties to impede the progress of science, I have been reminded by several of you that discretion can be the better part of valor. Although I admit I can’t think of any personal examples where that would be the case.

In the games room I have piled a supply of protective spectacles, which I suggest you wear. There is no danger of damage to your eyes, but there may be some very bright flashes. In addition, the propellant which I will be using to send the message is an experimental mixture, similar to those I have tried in the past but not exactly the same. There is a very very small chance that inhalation of its fumes may cause some temporary effects to the mind, so I recommend that you hold a handkerchief over your nose and mouth during the demonstration. To be clear, I don’t think that any of these effects would have any negative impact on our ability to return to the party and attend the musical performances afterwards. At worst, it may make those performances seem more enjoyable than they would otherwise.

12: James » Townsends

Dear Mr and Mrs Townsend,

On behalf of myself, my family, my fiancée, and my fellows, I wished to extend sincerest apologies for departing your lovely gathering without saying proper goodbyes. Your musicale was, as all would have expected, a smashing success, with performances across the board demonstrating the falsehood of the common claim that the Nephilim are unable to produce works of art. Surely your daughter Catherine’s rendition of Puccini’s famous aria could stand alongside the finest professionals to be found in the Royal Albert Hall.

As you discovered along with the rest of the guests, Christopher Lightwood wished to use the opportunity of having us all present to demonstrate the state of his newest invention. I’m told that when it is completed, it will utterly revolutionize the way that Shadowhunters are able to communicate with one another, obviating the need for the runners, couriers, and use of the mundane Royal Mail to send messages to one another. Instead we will have a fully self-contained rune-based method. Surely anyone would agree that such a development would be well worth whatever growing pains the process of invention and experimentation might create.

As you also discovered, Mr Lightwood’s demonstration took an unexpected turn, with a good amount of his customized propellant being released into your games room and corridors. Luckily, it was a mild evening, and open windows as well as the vigorous fanning of the doors by Thomas Lightwood and Ariadne Bridgestock quickly dispersed the gasses.

That said, neither I nor my companions are able to account for an interval of roughly ninety minutes between the end of the demonstration and our departure from your house. To that end, it seems that we were sadly lacking in good manners by failing to thank you for your warm hospitality at the time. Again, please accept our deepest apologies, and our thanks for that hospitality, even if it has been delivered discourteously late.

Warmest regards,

James Herondale

13: Matthew » James

Jamie,

Good Lord, what was in that stuff of Christopher’s? Do you know if there will be any lasting effects? I hesitate to ask Kit, he seems too dismayed.

Also, I am trying to find out to whom exactly I owe an apology for specific behaviors that might have happened after the demonstration. I seem to have lost more than an hour from my memory, as well as my waistcoat and a garnet ring of which I was quite fond. Any thoughts you have would be appreciated.

Matthew

14: Lucie » James

James,

I have been expecting to hear from Matthew, but as it has been most of a day and I haven’t yet, can you please let him know that I will make myself available to be apologized to during teatime, either tomorrow or the next day. Please also tell him that I will be sending along a bill for the costs of cleaning arrack out of the skirt of my dress. For such a prodigious consumer of spirits, you would think he would have learned not to slosh them around so much when he talks. I suppose Christopher’s propellant takes some of the blame, but honestly, Shadowhunters are trained in agility and dexterity and even under the influence of one of Christopher’s experiments he should be able to, at very least, not slosh so.

Lucie

15: Cordelia » Anna

Dear Anna,

The last hour or so of the party was something of a blur for all of us, I think. But I feel confident in assuring you that both you and Ariadne acted with all due propriety, and that at no point did you “make an ass of yourself,” as you put it, either out among all the guests or in the games room.

Also, when next you speak to Ariadne, please compliment her on her lovely dress. It suited her quite well! I wondered if you were responsible for finding it for her? You do have such an excellent eye for what colors and cuts will flatter.

Anyway, do not worry. I have made some private inquiries, and nobody took note of any unusual behavior on the part of either yourself or Miss Bridgestock. (In fact, Rosamund seemed to be under the impression that you were shamelessly flirting with her. I can confirm that you were not and that Rosamund simply has an odd way about her.)

Are we still on for tea Wednesday? Let me know if not and otherwise I will see you then.

Cordelia Carstairs

16: Townsends » Everybody

For the attention of:

James Herondale

Lucie Herondale

Matthew Fairchild

Thomas Lightwood

Anna Lightwood

Christopher Lightwood

Alastair Carstairs

Cordelia Carstairs

On behalf of not just our own family, but the parental generation of the Enclave more generally, we wish to communicate our displeasure with your behavior at our soirée on Friday’s eve. You are all adults or near-enough, under Nephilim Law, and so you should be held to account as any adults would be. And you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Given the influence had by many of your families, and the small size of the London Enclave, we cannot bar you from all of our future events. If only we could. We will, however, be more careful in future about shutting off access to rooms in our house that are not intended for use by party guests.

Rather than taking the time to craft individual complaints, we hereby itemize the most obvious of our grievances, so that you may all have your behavior exposed to one another. Certainly none of you deserve to have your actions kept private.

Alastair: We were glad to see you eventually arrive, though there is a wide difference between “fashionably late” and the hour you appeared. (Just in time for the desserts, we note.) Also, the song you performed was highly inappropriate for the ladies present, especially the unmarried ones, such as our daughter, and also your own sister.

Lucie: While we have always supported your hobby of writing down entertaining tales, and we understand that the storyteller’s art does involve artistic creativity, your ongoing, strident, melodramatic narration of the events following the Christopher Lightwood Incident was not appreciated by us or, especially, Mrs Rosewain, who you referred to throughout as “Mrs Whatshername.”

James: Your interruption of the cake serving to declare your undying devotion to your true love was a gallant gesture. It might, however, have gone over better had you not pledged your troth to a portrait in oils of our ancestral matriarch, Frideswide Townsend. Your taste is admirable, of course, and she was considered a great beauty. It is unfortunate for your affections that she passed away in the late sixteenth century.

Anna: We would thank you to come by and pick up your brother from our house at some point. He has been muttering to himself, fiddling with a pencil and paper, and threatening “another test, much improved.” Please retrieve him post-haste.

Thomas: We don’t know how you made the acquaintance of that vampire who attempted to accompany all of the performers on his dulcimer, but he is not welcome back to our house, and if we see him again, neither are you.

Matthew: Whatever was in that bottle you were plying to my mother, we only found her this morning, napping on our roof. When we woke her she said it was of a greenish color and asked for more of it. We would be obliged if you could bring another bottle by, at your convenience.

Cordelia: Your demonstration of the supernatural sharpness of your sword was very impressive, even if it was not in the spirit of the kinds of performance we expected for a musicale. It is, however, not all that surprising that it was able to cut through our drapes, a dining-room chair, or the sponge cake. We spoke to your brother, and he suggested that we should feel free to send an invoice for replacement costs to the Herondale family, since soon enough you will be their trouble, and not his.

In short, you have all behaved abominably, and are, each and every one of you, embarrassments to your various hallowed family names.

We hope you will join us the Thursday after next, for boating and luncheon in Hyde Park.

Mr and Mrs Graham Townsend

#letter game #the merry thieves #the last hours #chain of gold #chain of iron

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

The Unexpected Visitor in Small Heath

Summary: Y/N Shelby was a nurse during the war. What happens when a ghost from that past comes looking for her? A ghost with definite intentions...

Word Count: 3683

Trigger Warnings: a slightly handsy dude

A/N: *peeks out from my hiding place* hi guys, I’m back!! Hope you’re all good - to me it feels so amazing to be posting some writing again! As you can probably tell by the word count, I got a bit carried away with this one and so it’s basically unedited, so apologies for any mistakes 😂 Hope you enjoy it! 😘

"About fucking time, Y/N, I've been waiting here for almost a quarter of an hour."

"You've knocked on my door five minutes ago, Tommy, stop being such a dramatic shit!"

To any passers-by outside of Y/N Shelby's house, for a moment it would have looked like the two siblings were about to get into another argument. But any anxieties about that were washed away when they observed the teasing glint in the younger girl's eye and the playful shove given by the man, as they made their way down the cobbled streets of Birmingham.

Tommy and Y/N Shelby were as thick as thieves, there was no doubt about that. The brother and sister loved each other fiercely, and where one of them was found, it was almost certain that the other wouldn't be too far behind. But when they rowed, oh boy, did they row.

It was only a few days ago that the occupants of the Garrison were subjected to their shouting, after Tommy had scared off yet another one of Y/N's dates. As usual, however, the argument had soon blown over.

***

Y/N loved living in Small Heath. It was a shithole, but it was her shithole, so she didn't mind it as much.

To Tommy's surprise, she had turned down the offer of either living with him in Warwickshire or buying her a place of her own in the country. Instead, she had asked her brother if she could move into his old house on Watery Lane, to which he had agreed.

His swaying factor had been that someone would always be close-by if anything happened at the office, and the rest of the family had a place to crash if they needed to.

Y/N, on the other hand, had more emotional reasons for wanting to stay where she grew up. Since training as a nurse for the war, the Shelby girl had got to know the children of Small Heath very well: she had somehow become the go-to person whenever one of them got into a scuffle or had an accident, and always fixed them up with a smile on her face as she listened to their innocent voices babble away. Y/N wanted to see them grow up, and didn't want to abandon them. She also didn't want to leave behind some of the poorer families in Small Heath, who she paid a visit to once a week to check that everyone was as well as could be.

Tommy had had one condition for Y/N's staying in Small Heath by herself – that he walked her to and from work or the Garrison (wherever they were the latest) every day, and the days that he couldn't make it that she would let him get one of the blinders to do the job instead. The Shelby name and his sister's capabilities alone were not enough to settle his worries about her wellbeing.

And this job was what had brought Tommy to Y/N’s house that morning. It had come to Y/N’s attention that her brother seemed to be at his happiest during these walks - and when she said ‘happiest’ she meant that there was often just a slight glimmer of a smile on his face and his eyes looked a touch softer. Sometimes the indicators were bigger, but more often than not this was where the happiness would stop. It was in these moments that Tommy seemed to be at his most human, and they were the favourite part of Y/N’s day.

Apart from today.

The pair navigated the streets with ease, speaking quietly to each other, just as on every other day of the year. Suddenly, however, Y/N stopped still, lips parted slightly in shock. Tommy examined her expression carefully, and after realising (with a sigh of relief) that his sister wasn't scared shitless, followed her line of sight. It landed on a man. A rather scruffy man, who appeared to have done an awful job at trying to make himself look respectable, Tommy thought. The Shelby man knew that this was a stranger to Small Heath, not only by the fact that he had never seen such a distinct person before, but also by the way that he looked at the buildings and the people in the street. Yes, Tommy concluded, that was definitely a look with purpose.

Breaking Tommy away from his thoughts was the delicate hand that grabbed his wrist tightly, causing him to look down at his sister. "Tommy, how do you fancy taking the scenic route to the office today, hmm?" Whilst her voice was light, as if she were simply commenting on the day's weather, the forced smile that was plastered on her face was the one that she used at parties when she wanted to get away from someone (usually when she was being annoyed or bored to death).

Amused by Y/N's desperate desire to get away, he resisted her impatient pull on his arm towards a side street. "What's wrong with this way, Y/N/N? This is the route we take every day, I'm not going about changing it now." Tommy's voice was teasing as he casually lit a cigarette.

"Yes, yes, Tom, I know you're a stickler for routine – but for once in your fucking life can you do as I say?"

"Ah, well I was considering it, but since you've been so rude to me..."

The man was getting closer.

"Please, Tommy, I'll do anything." Y/N hated that she was having to practically beg her brother, but the situation was one that she definitely wanted to avoid. She even slipped her hand down to grasp his tightly for emotional effect, something that she hadn't done for years (but, oh, how she relished that warm and safe feeling that it brought with it).

Surprised at his sister's actions and looking into her wide eyes, he was about to relent and let her drag him down the side streets to the office. But it was too late.

"NURSE SHELBY!" The man's deep voice bellowed down the street, causing a few people to look towards them.

"Fucking hell," Y/N mumbled under her breath, giving Tommy's hand a tight squeeze and then letting go, before addressing the man. "Henry. What a surprise! What brings you to Birmingham?"

"Well, you, of course!"

Y/N cringed internally as she saw Tommy's eyebrows shoot up at this statement. Tommy cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Y/N?"

Sending a quick death glare up to her brother out of the corner of her eye, the woman replied with strained politeness: "My apologies. Henry, this is my brother, Thomas Shelby. Tommy, this is Henry Mathers, one of my former patients."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Henry shook Tommy's hand, the latter trying his hardest not to grimace at the thick layer of sweat coating the other man's palm.

"Likewise, Mr Mathers. You met my sister in France, then?"

"Yes, sir. We said that if we both made it out of there alive, we'd go for a drink. Ever since I got back I've been searching for her and here I am! And, oh, it was worth the wait to see that face again."

Tommy could no longer suppress the smirk threatening to escape as he looked between Henry's longing gaze and Y/N's very clearly faked happiness crossed with panic.

"Well, my sister is a woman of her word, Mr Mathers, and I'm sure she'd be delighted to be able to catch up with you after all these years." Tommy decided to pause for dramatic effect. "Perhaps you can go to the Garrison tonight, Y/N? We've had it done up recently, it's just around this corner here" Tommy added, pointing in the direction of the pub.

"Oh, that sounds perfect! I shall meet you there at eight o'clock, Miss Shelby." Before Y/N could get a word in edgeways, Henry was removing his bowler hat and bowing his balding head. "Good day to you, Miss Shelby, Mr Shelby." The man continued to walk down the street, a definite spring now in his step.

As soon as he was far enough away, Y/N sent a firm punch to her brother’s stomach. “What the actual fuck, Tommy?” She started to storm down the street quickly, leaving Tommy hurrying after her. “One minute you’re chasing men away from me, and next you’re setting me up on dates with people you don’t know the first thing about!”

“You’re the one who agreed to go for a drink with him in the first place, don’t go blaming me.”

“He had a lot of drugs in his system when he asked, I didn’t think he’d actually remember it.” Catching her brother’s amused smile at her excuse, she continued. “He was on the verge of death, I wasn’t exactly going to say no, was I?”

“Oh, so he fought to stay alive just for you then, eh? Sounds like a keeper to me, Y/N/N.”

“You’re an arse, Thomas Shelby. A complete and utter arse.”

***

Y/N remained in a foul mood with Tommy for the rest of the day, not that this surprised him.

When the hands of the clock hit ten to eight exactly, however, he still knocked on his sister's door to take her to the Garrison himself.

Tommy couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips at the sight of Y/N, clad in a beaded black dress, scowling as she stepped out of the house.

"You do know that you're not going to a funeral tonight?"

"Oh, it's my bloody funeral, alright. Might be his too, if he reverts back to his old ways." Y/N started playing with her hands as they made their way towards the pub, something that she'd done since she was little when she was nervous.

Tommy noticed it immediately, eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern as he recalled Y/N's desperation to avoid Henry. It hadn’t really hit him properly in the moment how desperate she had been. But before he could begin to question what the man's 'old ways' were, his sister spoke again.

"But you were right about one thing earlier, Tommy. I did still agree to go out with Henry, no matter what state he was in when he asked. It would be rude of me not to go through with it and at least act like I'm having a nice time, seeing as he's come all this way for it. So," her voice became sterner, "I'm going to smile my way through the evening, and you'd better not start any fights - do you understand me?"

The older of the two Shelbys sighed, a feeling of dread beginning to build up inside of him. "I can get you out of this if you -"

"No, Tommy." An angry fire was dancing in the young woman's eyes. "You don't get to land me in this situation and then try to snap your fingers and revert it. That's not how this works. This is happening, no thanks to you..." The last part was mumbled under her breath as she pushed the heavy pub doors open.

Tommy hadn't wanted to lose his sister in the same way that he had lost Ada at the beginning – not giving her enough freedom, especially given their argument the other day. So, when a man came along who she had agreed to go for a drink with previously, he had decided (for once) to take the light-hearted and supportive approach, a far cry from the overprotective older brother that he had been since the moment that Y/N had been born.

He was starting to regret even considering changing his ways, and the night had barely begun...

***

From his seat at an ordinary table at the Garrison, Tommy looked at the occupants at the bar once again, probably for about the fifth time in the past two minutes. He had decided not to retreat into the snug, as he usually did, wanting to keep a close eye on Y/N and Henry.

So far, the evening had gone surprisingly well - it was far better than any of Tommy’s imaginings after his discussion with his sister previously. He had heard his sister’s gentle laugh ringing across the room on multiple occasions (and he could tell that it was genuine), and the pair had barely stopped talking.

Maybe this would prove to be a success, Tommy had mused.

One thing that the man’s careful eye had picked up on, however, was how many whiskeys Henry had thrown back. Tommy had concluded that no matter how well things appeared to be going now, he wasn't leaving just yet.

And he was glad he didn't – for just 15 minutes later, as the alcohol began to kick in to Henry's system, things began to go downhill.

It started with the occasional nervous laugh, or a smile that didn’t quite reach his sister's eyes as she avoided Henry's intense gaze. This grew more frequent as Henry continued to drink, and Y/N began playing with her hands once again as well.

The head of the Shelby family was an inch away from leaping out of his seat when he saw Henry leaning over to whisper in Y/N's ear, and her nose crinkled in disgust at the stench of alcohol on his breath. After a few subtle attempts, she finally managed to push him away from her, and Tommy relaxed slightly as he heard her state a firm "No." His sister was always a lot tougher than he thought.

But her efforts were undermined as Henry grabbed her left hand, holding it as if he were about to kiss her knuckles. However his grip was far too firm for that. Ripping her hand out of his, Y/N grabbed her bag hurriedly and started to get off her seat, and Tommy stood up himself.

The final straw for the protective brother was when he witnessed Y/N freeze completely as Henry rested a hand on her knee to stop her from leaving. Fists clenched as he tried to contain his anger, remembering his sister's warning about not starting any fights, Tommy marched over to the bar, his lie for getting her out of there already prepared.

"Y/N, something urgent has come up, we need to call a family meeting – now." Tommy extended a hand to his sister, which she gratefully took as he helped her get down off the barstool and pulled her safely to his side. "Would you get my things from the back room, I've just got something to sort out quickly before we go. I'll see you outside."

Y/N nodded, knowing exactly what Tommy was doing. Shooting her brother a grateful glance, Y/N mumbled a quick "Goodbye" to Henry, and walked off quickly, not wanting to be in the man's company for any longer than necessary.

***

She slipped out of the back door and into the cold night air, relief washing over her. Lighting a cigarette, Y/N waited for her brother, wondering how he had got to her so quickly – she hadn't seen him once after meeting up with Henry.

A few minutes later, Tommy emerged and went straight to Y/N. "You alright?" His thick Brummie accent comforting her as he, too, lit a cigarette.

Y/N sent him a soft smile as she replied, "I'm fine, Tom. I'm assuming there isn't actually an emergency?" Her voice was laced with amusement.

"Nope."

The siblings stayed there for a while, smoking and listening to the sounds of the pub behind them. Y/N vaguely wondered whether Henry would find them, but looking up at her brother's solid presence beside her, she felt any worries lift off her shoulders.

Out of the blue, Tommy threw his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, turning to Y/N. "Come on. Do you fancy going for a walk?"

"Yeah, I need to clear my head." Tommy started to move towards the street. "Oi! I'm finishing this first, you know I hate smoking and walking at the same time!"

***

"You gonna tell me what happened tonight then, eh?"

The pair didn't know how long they had been wandering the streets of Small Heath for, but Tommy's curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.

Y/N sighed, her eyes focused on the cobblestones beneath her. "When Henry first came to us, back in France, he'd been caught up in an explosion. After the doctors had seen him, he was still very drugged up and the chances of him surviving were about fifty-fifty. We had to keep administering him the drugs for a few days, because he was in so much pain. He kept calling me over, wanting to talk to me no matter how busy I was – said that he needed a 'pretty girl' like me to keep him company. I humoured him. But then he started saying things like we were 'meant to be together', 'soulmates' even."

Y/N paused, thinking hard. "He lied when he showed up today: he said that he asked me out for a drink, but he didn't. What Henry actually said was, and I quote, 'If we both survive this fucking war, I'm going to find you and marry you.' I had no clue what to say. His chances of making it out of the hospital alive, never mind the war, weren't improving. So I said something like 'Well, I hope you buy me a drink first.' I ran off after that, and another one of the nurses took over his care. I had no clue that he was still alive until today.

"At the pub tonight, I will admit that I did enjoy catching up with him. For someone who I believed to be a lost cause all those years ago, it was nice to hear that he'd actually done something with his life. But then he brought up getting married again, insisting that I was still 'the one' for him and that it was the thought of me that kept him going until the end of the war. He just kept repeating over and over again that he was going to marry me and that we'd be so happy together.

"But just before you came over, he was getting rather forceful about it. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see your stupid face." She laughed a little, noticing her brother's annoyed (yet secretly amused) glare as they sat down next to the Cut.

"It wasn't him that freaked me out, necessarily - it was the thought of marriage. I'm not ready yet, Tom, and to be honest I don't know if I ever will be, no matter how many boys I try and date. I'm terrified of being tied down to someone and losing my independence. I enjoy being by myself too much – and with you lot, I suppose." Y/N nudged her brother's arm.

A comfortable silence settled between the siblings, and Y/N let it sit there, wanting to give Tommy the time to process everything that she had said in her little monologue.

Happiness was one emotion that the elder Shelby didn't expect to feel after hearing his sister's answer to his question. And yet it coursed through his every vein, accompanied by a sort of relief. Tommy wanted his sister to find contentment and peace more than anything; even though he hated the thought of her marrying, of her having someone else to turn to that wasn't him, a few years ago Tommy had come to accept that one day Y/N would want to move on from him and the family. Maybe even start her own family. This acceptance, however, hadn't been able to stop him from deterring nearly any man who came her way. In his mind, anyone that couldn't stand up to Tommy definitely wouldn't be able to deal with his youngest sister, and that they simply weren't good enough for her.

To hear, though, that Y/N had no intention of leaving him yet, was music to his ears. It was also a comfort to know that she was waiting for the right person to get serious with – Tommy felt as though he wouldn't have to spend as much time hunting down every single potential suitor. Instead, he could spend the time with his beloved, if annoying, little sister.

But this was Tommy Shelby, and he would never communicate such vast amounts of emotion verbally. "So I'm stuck with you for a bit longer then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Y/N couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, understanding the exact meaning behind her brother's words. It widened as she heard Tommy chuckling slightly in response, a sound that she had nearly forgotten. "What did you do with Henry? After I left the pub?"

Tommy cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "He won't be proposing to you again any time soon, don't you worry, sweetheart."

"Tommy, I thought I said - "

"No fighting, I know. And I did as you said, I didn't start any tonight." He looked, almost sheepishly, over at Y/N, who had adopted Polly's stern expression. "I told him that if I saw him again in our city, I'd cut him myself, and the same applies for if he tries to contact you again."

The younger Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes, fondly. "Well, I can't complain about that, can I?" Y/N heard the bells of the church chime, telling her that it was midnight. She turned to Tommy. "Home?"

He nodded. "Home," and he knew exactly where that was tonight. Tommy stood up and brushed the dirt off of his trousers, whilst Y/N got up too. They were about to set off when Tommy held his hand out to his sister, just like he used to when they were younger. Y/N instinctively took it, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt loved, and knew for certain that this love was the only one that she needed at the moment.

Tommy didn't let go until they reached the front door, comforted in the knowledge that Y/N was going to remain his little girl for a while longer yet.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sis #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!reader #shelby!sister

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oakensherwood · 3 years

Text

Okay, let’s talk about Maid Marian. Let’s really talk about Marian. So often I see her character disparaged as a damsel in distress without agency of her own, but that is honestly so far from the truth. In fact, Maid Marian is considered to be one of the earliest examples of the “strong, independent woman” character archetype. Not only is it untrue to call her a damsel in distress, it’s also unfair.

As with many stories, Robin Hood is a story filled with men. I love it, but there’s no denying it’s a story filled with men. As the only prominent female character in a story that has been retold for close to 1000 years, centuries of ideas about femininity have been funneled into this singular character. Among the array of male characters, we see many ways to be masculine: smart, witty, artistic, strong, brave, charitable, loyal, both fighters and lovers. All of the characters have been adapted through the years, but Marian can still be distinguished as the only canonically present female character in the main cast.

Other women we traditionally see include Alan’s bride, the Prioress of Kirklees Abbey who murders Robin, Marian’s serving woman, and a few queens. Various contemporary novels, films, and TV representations have added women to the cast to even it out, but Marian is still the only primary female cast member. As such, centuries of what it can mean to be a woman have been reflected through her.

Let’s take a look at what exactly that has looked like through the years.

One of the things I love best about Robin Hood as a legend is that it is constantly evolving and changing for the needs of the audience. Across centuries and decades it has been changed to suit the ideas of the day. Even the oldest extant documentation of Robin Hood is not considered the “original version” because there is no way of really knowing when or how these stories started, or how long it took for them to be written down.

So, just as there isn’t a standardized Robin Hood, there isn’t a standardized Maid Marian. We know that she was added later in the Robin Hood tradition, during the 15th century as part of May Day celebrations, and quickly became a common character in future iterations of the Robin Hood story. Her origins are still murky at best, and it’s impossible to pinpoint the very first time she was introduced.

Her many origins include a shepherdess named Clorinda from Child Ballad 149, an unrelated Marian character in 15th century May Day games who happens to also have a lover named Robin, and a historically based woman named Matilda Fitzwalter appears in Anthony Munday’s “Huntingdon” plays from the 15th century. Furthest from our understanding of Marian is a play titled Robin Hood and the Friar, very merry and full of pastime, proper to be played in May Games. In this play we find Marian as a “trull” a.k.a. prostitute, employed by Friar Tuck. A far cry from how we know both Marian and Friar Tuck today. So far, she’s a working woman, a noblewoman, a romantic interest, and a prostitute.

The best known and most enduring of these early variations is Child Ballad 150 (you can read it in full here). In this ballad, we see Marian dress as a boy, and go into the forest fully armed, to seek out her lover, Robin Hood. When she finds him and does not recognize him, they begin to fight and Marian handily beats him in their sword fight. Robin immediately asks her to join the Merry Men, they recognize each other, and return to camp for feasting and a “happily ever after” full of adventures.

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- Child Ballad 150

“With quiver and bow, sword, buckler and all,

Thus armed was Marian most bold.”

This ballad is reminiscent of introductory stories of the Merry Men -- Robin meets a stranger, they fight, the stranger wins, and Robin offers them a place in his band.

We can clearly see in Child Ballad 150 that Marian was considered Robin’s equal and a regular member of the group from early on her individual tradition. Other parts of her early tradition survive as well -- she’s a romantic partner for Robin, and a noblewoman.

As we progress forward in Robin Hood traditions, we continue to see the story change. Notable changes occur during the Victorian period, when general interest in Robin Hood stories was revived thanks to the publication of Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe (1819) and Howard Pyle’s The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood (1883). Marian does not appear in Ivanhoe and is mentioned only once in Pyle’s book, and is effectively written out of the story entirely.

Despite this, we see other novels and stories released as Robin Hood grows in popularity, and here is where we begin to see the idea of a damsel in distress begin to gain traction. As is true in every retelling of Robin Hood, the story changed to suit its audience and to suit the ideas of contemporary society and intended audience.

Victorian literature is full of interesting and lesser known works of Robin Hood, as a result of a Victorian obsession with medievalism and with Robin Hood. Maid Marian and Robin Hood: A Romance of Old Sherwood (1892) by J.E. Muddock features a very distressed Marian who does need rescued and has very little agency. Other Victorian works take a similar tone and cast Marian as a damsel, but this is not the narrative that ultimately survives this period of Robin Hood resurgence.

Thomas Love Peacock published a novella simply titled Maid Marian (1822). Interesting to note, because Robin only appears briefly as a supporting character in Ivanhoe, this is actually the first true Robin Hood novel as a story by itself. Here we see an active, and independent Marian, evocative of Child Ballad 150.

‘Well, father,’ added Matilda, ‘I must go into the woods.’

‘Must you?’ said the Baron, ‘I say you must not.’

‘But I am going,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will have up the drawbridge,’ said the baron.

‘But I will swim the moat,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will secure the gates,’ said the baron.

‘But I will leap from the battlement,’ said Matilda.

‘But I will lock you in an upper chamber,’ said the baron.

‘But I will shred the tapestry,’ said Matilda, ‘and let myself down.’

- Thomas Love Peacock, Maid Marian (1822)

Matilda does indeed go to the woods, takes on the name Maid Marian, and rules the forest with Robin Hood. Other Victorian works take a similar approach to Marian and show her as involved and capable including Maid Marian, or the Forest Queen (1849) by Joaquim Stocqueler, which follows a more traditional Robin Hood storyline filled with adventures and danger.

Later classic works include an active Marian as a member of the outlaw band, as well. Roger Lancelyn Green (1956), Charles E. Vivian (1927), and Paul Creswick (1917) all write a Marian who speaks for herself and works with the outlaws, often dressed as a man.

Hollywood enters the scene of Robin Hood retellings as early as 1908, but the oldest surviving Robin Hood film is Douglas Fairbanks’ Robin Hood (1922). This silent movie, groundbreaking in budget and sets, features Marian (played by Enid Bennet) as a strong character who holds her own throughout the film. After this, we see another groundbreaking film, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) starring Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland. This film is widely thought to be the gold standard of Robin Hood films, and I am definitely in that camp. Marian has more agency in this movie, and the lovely Olivia plays a rather coy noblewoman. While we don’t see her taking up a sword in this film, we see her developing the plan that ultimately rescues Robin from the hangman’s noose, successfully warning Robin and his men of Prince John’s plans, and standing her ground while on trial and defending her ideals. Yes, she is rescued from prison in the climax of the movie, but she also plays a vital role in rescuing Robin earlier in the story.

Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991) begins with a woman of action, but at the end sees Marian rather helplessly forced into a marriage and moments away from being sexually assaulted when Robin literally catapults himself through the window to save her. 20 years later in Robin Hood (2010) Cate Blanchett’s Marian is fully capable in combat and is shown to be a responsible and dedicated lady of Loxley, working the fields and caring for her home.

Meanwhile in a contemporary TV adaptation, Marian is depicted as a Robin Hood figure herself, known as the Nightwatchman. (2006, BBC’s Robin Hood) Although the writers later did a disservice by (unpopularly) killing her character as a season finale, Marian was still depicted as competent and in charge of her own choices and actions, and in fact rescues herself from an unwanted marriage.

Contemporary Robin Hood literature also features an active Marian. Jennifer Roberson’s Lady of the Forest (1995) and Lady of Sherwood (1999) present Marian as a noblewoman who, over the course of the text, takes control of her own story in her capacity as a member of gentry, Lauren Johnson’s The Arrow of Sherwood (2013) sees an incredibly historically inclined retelling of the Robin Hood story, and includes a dedicated and politically savvy Marian. She doesn’t run into the forest, but makes a real difference through her smart decisions and political manipulation. Robin McKinely’s The Outlaws of Sherwood features Marian as an excellent archer, better than Robin, and she easily slips in and out of the outlaw camp as needed, is skilled in woodscraft, and is a valued and substantial member of the outlaw group. Honestly, I think it would be difficult to find a literary retelling that doesn’t include an active Marian character.

So where do our ideas of Marian as a damsel in distress ultimately come from? I have a few theories.

First, we see the archetype of damsels in distress throughout other fairy tales and folklore, so it’s tempting to assume that Marian is the same and portray her as such, and there are examples of her character playing that role either in whole, or for part of the narrative.

There are unfair assumptions made about medieval women in general, that ignore the powerful positions women could hold, and the amazing things that women did during this period. When people picture medieval women, they are often embroidering tapestries, being forced into unwanted marriages, being beaten by their husbands, and dying in childbirth. There is truth in stereotypes, but there’s also room for deeper understanding of the historical context, and a wider story to be told that includes women standing up for themselves and exercising their own strength and skills. (It’s not good feminism to overwrite real women’s history.)

We see this stereotype most often in movies and TV adaptations, which are highly visible and memorable, cementing ideas about the Robin Hood legend (and Marian) in the general psyche.

Children’s picture books, perhaps one of the first introductions a person might have to Robin Hood, tend to play out the story like a traditional fairy tale and Marian is again likely found in an upper tower, calling for help.

Some find it demeaning for Marian to ever require saving, or to be saved by anyone other than herself. I feel differently about this. People rely on other people, and it’s not inherently weak to ask for support from someone, especially from a romantic partner. The story of Robin Hood is good fun, but it’s also full of danger and peril. It’s not surprising that various characters need to be rescued by friends and lovers throughout various tales. Robin Hood, Little John, Will Stutely, Sir Richard of the Lea, Alan A Dale’s bride, and yes, Maid Marian. All of these characters have stories where they require smart and daring rescues, and they’re exciting stories! Because Alan’s bride and Marian are women, this does not exempt them from the support of their male friends. They deserve to have someone watching their back. I am not offended by Marian needing help; it’s not only human, it’s a staple for a multitude of characters in Robin Hood lore.

As with much of media, Marian is the single female in what’s otherwise mostly a boys’ club. She has been the single point of reference in this story for women for centuries. I find that incredible. She was my favorite character as a child because she was the only woman, the only person I could potentially see myself in. With a global story such as Robin Hood, that’s not an insignificant role. No matter what her part may be in any given retelling, there are pieces of women from centuries long past and not so distant. I find that fascinating, worth respecting, and that’s why she’s my favorite character to this day.

tldr: Drink your respect Maid Marian juice.

#maid marian #robin hood #long post #my gang to me 2021

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shinidamachu · 4 years

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What are some of your favorite InuYasha fanfiction stories? 😙

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE VERY FIRST PERSON TO ASK ME THIS QUESTION! PLEASE, CLICK ON THE FOLLOWING LINKS TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE:

Light Me a Lantern by @inuyashasforest: a lot of feelings for this one. It was the first Inukag multichapter fanfic I have ever read and boy am I glad I did. It’s a must read. I don’t know how Hanyo no Yashahime will fall into the Inuyasha universe, but if it turns out to be garbage, I’m more than happy to accept Light Me a Lantern as canon instead. Send tweet.

Little by Little by @little-known-artist: cutest post-canon fanfic in all land! It will make you smile. It will make you laugh. It will make you a little horny. That being said, it will also make you cry, but trust me: you’re gonna be grateful for it.

You Rescued Me by @keichanz: this fic it’s a party and I’m the piñata, there’s no other way to put it. Heather is a storytelling master, like... she could post her grocery shopping list and I’d be reading the hell out of it!

The Captain and the Hanyo by @goshinote: I love the whole premise of this fic and how much effort Jane puts in every detail. It’s like I’m living in it and I wish I was. It’s the story I’m currently reading and it’s so, so sweet and exciting!

Cruel Summer by @akitokihojo: you know shit is about to go down when Angie drops a Taylor Swift song titled fic. Now that Folklore is out I’m honestly scared for my life.

Pennies and Dimes by @witchygirl99: SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part one)

Delicate by @akitokihojo: SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN THIS INTO A MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU! (part two)

A Night to Remember by @angelhartsblog: I want you to close your eyes. Now I want you to think about the perfect Inukag first time. Open your eyes. Did you think about A Night To Remember? No? That’s because you haven’t read it yet, pal. What are you waiting for?

The Gorgon and the Dog Demon by @cstormsinukagblog: I’m in too deep HELP!

Mating Fever by @clearwillow: let’s face it, this one is a classic already! The concept of this story was executed so well. Nothing was held back. You can tell Carra had as much fun writing it as we had reading it.

Pretending To Pretend by splendentgoddess: IF BOTH THE LAST HARD COPY OF THIS FIC AND MY COUSIN WERE ON FIRE... I’d still save my cousin but only because I reread Pretending to Pretend so many times I could probably write it down again myself, word for word. Also, my mom would never let me hear the end of it. But, like... it’s still a close one.

Bakin’ Cakes/Patty-Cake by @artistefish: if I had two lives to give to Bloodhound and Kitten then two lives I’d give them.

Risks by @stoatsandweasels: THE CHARACTERIZATION, THE DIALOGUES, THE SMUT... Definition of *chef’s kiss*. The stars really aligned for this one, let me tell ya. Good. Fucking. Food.

Cam You See Me? by @keichanz: Smut Queen at her best. LONG LIVE!

Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves by @starlingchildgazingatthestars: I feel like this fic should be written on a very big, very old, hard covered book. And someone should read it to me every night before I go to sleep. Every new chapter deepens the plot and the character so much. I’m hooked.

Belief/Resist by @dangerouspompadour: my first thought on it was “man, I wish I could leave a thousand kudos” because it’s one of my favorite tropes ever and the story was told with such delicacy and honesty. Nailed their personalities to their cores.

Freak Attraction/Freak Attraction: Seven-Man Circus by @artistefish: this fic is the epitome of galaxy brain. How do someone eve come up with something so incredible? The world building is so fucking good, are you kidding me?

Oblivion by @meggz0rz: this one needs no comments... But I’m gonna comment anyway: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spetacular, never-the-same, totally unique.

Beautiful Stranger by splendentgoddess: WHAT A RIDE, MY FRIENDS! BUCKLE THE FUCK UP!

Missing by @ajoy3fanfics: it’s called ‘missing’ because after you finish the whole thing you just miss it so fucking much! I remember how obsessed with it I became, refreshing the page for updates. I was a woman possessed. I spent about 80% of my time talking about this fic, and the other 20% of the time, I was praying for someone else to bring it up so I could talk about it more.

The Delinquent Boyfriend by @artistefish: book one of Inukag Holy Bible.

Out Of The Woods by @dyaz-stories: okay so there are only two chapters so far but the plot it’s captivating as hell! And the writing it’s flawless. If you haven’t read it yet, please do and tell Dya I sent you and I miss her ass.

Guardian by @ruddcatha: my nerdy ass feels seen and represented.

Knit and Lace by @doginabirdcage: if you’re part of the Inukag fandom you’re legally obligated to read this fanfic. This is not even a joke. Do you know someone who hasn’t read it? No! And you shouldn’t because it’s fucking awesome.

Call You Mine by @lavendertwilight89: every word on this is a drop of dopamine I swear.

Enchanted by @akitokihojo: I was in the middle of studying for one of the most important tests of my life when Enchanted came around. Was it insane of me to drop everything to read it? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes.

The Half Breed’s Wife by @gypsin: I’m gonna be honest here, this better update before I die otherwise I’m simply not going. RIP to everyone who will pass away without knowing how The Half Breed’s Wife ends but I’m different.

The It Couple by @meggz0rz: OH, YEAH,THE COOL KID OF FANFICS! *Vogue by Madonna starts playing*

It's About Time by @akitokihojo: first fic by Angie I have ever read! Flashback to two-years-ago me picking her chin off the floor. I still can believe I could read this for free? It feels wrong that I could, but also, like: thank God!

The Maid and the Bodyguard by @dyaz-stories: this is the fic you want to take home to your mama. You’d get on one knee for this fic. You’d buy it a diamond ring. You’d profess my undying love for it and you’d spend the rest of your life trying to prove to this fic I’m worthy of it.

Something Real by Angelica Pierce: so this is one of the best oneshots I have ever read in my entire life. It is also the one and only work signed by this author known to mankind. Which I take as a personal offense. To me. Personally.

Mars and Venus by @doginabirdcage: have you ever read something so clever you’re mad about it? Like HOW DARE YOU BE SO SMART? Genius, really. I read it so long ago and it blows me away to this day.

I Knew You Before I Met You by @keichanz: book two of Inukag Holy Bible.

House Mates by honeybee31: “and they were roommates.” “OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES!” Domestic Inukag? In my fic rec? It’s more likely than you think.

The Language He Speaks by @akitokihojo: if I was half as beautiful as this fic... I’d be kissing so many mouths... The possibilities...

Fingertips by @shinjiteflorana: this is the level of writing I aspire to achieve someday.

PS: I could never, in a billion years, rank these fanfiction, so please keep in mind they are in no way ordered by personal preference. I just love them all. Also, I’m messy.

PS²: believe it or not, I really tried to narrow this down. If I were to tag every Inuyasha fanfiction I love ever, it would get insane huge. This is a not exhaustive, very humble list of my favorites as requested above and I had to draw the line somewhere, otherwise I’d just keep going forever.

PS³: I’ll never get tired of saying that this fandom is crazy talented! Making this fic rec was so hard because there are so many awesome creators out there putting out new content for us every single day. I would like you to know that, even if I had to leave some works out, I appreciate and support each one of them. Thank you so much for keeping the Inuyasha fandom alive!

PS⁴: if you’re reading this, feel free to recommend or tag me in Inuyasha fanfics. Add some of your favorites to this post. Give the authors some love!

#There are SO MANY fanfics I want to start reading but didn’t have the time yet #That’s a topic for another ask tho so if any of you are interested in finding out which ones I have on my to-read list come to my inbox #I’ll be happy to tell you #Anyway I hope I have satisfied your curiosity anon #Thank you for asking now come fangirl about these absolute jams with me #Gosh this took a while #Fic rec

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creepymagickshop · 3 years

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Jesus Christ son of God the Most High, in His wisdom everlasting knew that the ears of the satanists could not hear Him or understand anything to which He spoke.

To those of you who have ears let you hear! This means only those with the intelligence to understand could hear the wisdom He was about to impart. It is a simple concept, one that morons like the fakers and bitches cannot contend with.

God has always called them fakers, bitches, bird brain morons, this is not a new concept either, found right there in the Holy Books written by Gods own. Only Christs handpicked elites understand this concept as well.

This message is only for Gods Soldiers, the elite, who have been moving in unity against the darkness. I solute you!

My previous message was written with a promise to dismantle further the lies of the enemy by showing you the purposeful unhealth and hatred of the very men who have set themselves above you as preachers of Jesus. I spit on them.

Who ordains preachers and teachers of JEHOVAH?

Only God does that.

That means that they, who are ordained, actually hear JEHOVAH speak to them and teach them so that they can impart the wisdom that a REAL God has to impart. A REAL God makes sense. A REAL GOD does not talk in silly circles, He actually goes somewhere with His messages.

Anyone who ordained themselves or got the nod from the ‘good ol boys club’, anyone who ignores the Bible and makes up their own version, anyone who has been preaching for years and still misquotes and misidentifies the very nature of God is nothing but a satanist who is pretending. Straight from Gods mouth to your ears.

You as human beings do not get to pick and chose the messengers of God. What kind of arrogance is that? Jumping from one church to another seeing what group you feel resonates with you? That is the way of the devil. You have been taught the devils ways. It’s time to hold accountable all those fake teachers of JEHOVAH and toss them into the abyss where they belong, with the bitch-tards.

Now lets talk about retards shall we? What is someone who is mentally handicapped from incest? A child of incest will have certain mental capabilities taken from them because of the actions of their parents. This isn’t contested, we have science who in their lagging behind the Holy Book, like usual, have finally found that out, within the last 250 years or so have drawn the correct conclusion that incest is bad, physically and mentally. Hand clap for the scientists!

Christians, REAL ones, not the ones spoken about above, already knew this. HOW? What does this have to do with God loving people who are called ”gay”? I use that word with unfailing sarcasm.

Once again reading out of context has stripped those retards bare for all to see.

Let’s open up the Holy Bible, to thousands of years ago when the Israelites finally left Egypt. The book Exodus chapter one allows you to see within context the relationship that the Pharaoh had with JEHOVAHS people. As you read you will see that things were not only strained but contentious. The term slave within this context can be used whole-heartedly. Now lets jump forward to when God, whos name is JEHOVAH, sends Moses and his brother Aaron to release Gods people from that horrible empire all built on incest, divining of stars and worshiping empty idols. The book of Leviticus, which is the next book in the Holy Bible.

God starts to teach His people “according to the work of the land of Egypt in which ye have dwelt ye do not, and according to the work of the land of Caanan whither I am bringing you in, ye do not, and in their stautes ye walk not.” Leviticus 18:3 YLT1898

The Israelites were taught a LOT of retarded things by people who knew no God. Incest was one of those things. Reading on,

“None of you unto any relation of his doth draw near to uncover nakedness; I JEHOVAH.

The nakedness of they father and the nakedness of thy mother thou dost not uncover, she thy mother; thou does not uncover her nakedness.” Leviticus 18: 7 YLT1898

Continuing to read IN CONTEXT, we now understand that this whole chapter is about unclean relations, do not sleep with blood relations so saith your GOD. He also understands the sickness of the people because of who was teaching them so HE made a point to say it is not only about having mentally handicapped children but it also has to do with family relations and the mental health of those people who are hunting the children within their own household.

Leviticus 18:22 YLT1898

“And with a male thou dost not lie as one lieth with a woman: abomination it.”

So, you may not sleep with your relations even if no baby will issue from the copulation.

Everybody understand?

Good!

Moving on to the last and final verses that retards have been trying to understand for generations, the book of Romans and Corinthians. Written by Paul hand chosen by Christ and sanctified by JEHOVAH Himself.

Yeah I said it.

I stand with Paul and all those who serve GOD alone. There is nothing in the Holy Bible that a REAL Christian need be ashamed of.

Romans was written to the church in Rome, they were around many fake temples of the Greeks. They worshiped fake gods, slept with their relations, and cheated on their wives and husbands with men and women, saying it wasn’t cheating. Sound like anyone you know? Hello Hollywood. Hello reading in context to the people Paul was writing to. A church with some members who called themselves Christs body and was practicing these unsound doctrines taught by devil worshipers.

Roman 1:27 YLT1898

“and in like manner also the males having left the natural use of the female, did burn in their longing toward one another; males with males working shame, and the recompense of their error that was fit, in themselves receiving.”

If you continue to read on to the next letter to Corinth, the book of Corinthians, with the same cultural context in mind,

1 Corinthians 6:9-10 YLT1898

“have you not known that the unrighteous the reign of God shall not inherit? be not led astray; neither whoremongers [people who prostitute themselves by worshiping false gods and hide it by calling themselves Gods people], not idolaters [who deny God and Christ JESUS loudly], nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor sodomites,

nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, the reign of God shall not inherit.”

Understanding that this book was written in another language, you have to simply look up the actual words used in the original letter written by Paul to know that the word ‘sodomite’ means someone from Sodom and Gomora who were rapping strangers and children. That was an insult to be called that, hello Hollywood.

The word ‘effeminate’ in context to the language can be take multiple ways, one of which means to be spiritually weak. Even the English language has words that mean opposite things and must be read in context to the rest of the sentences before and after. Critical thinking 101. Such as the word ‘cleave’. Self imposed literature geniuses, hello college.

These verses are used by satanists who have taken it upon themselves to ordain themselves and like minded roaches to preach and teach at the Holy people of God. If the preacher is a satanist who is misusing the Bible, that place is NOT the temple of JEHOVAH.

Anyone who has taught a class in such a manner you can account as a satanist. JEHOVAH rebukes them and corrects their behavior. They are not confused about what they are teaching so much as they are not privy to the spiritual matters that the Holy Book imparts.

They sound like bird brain twits trying to preach the Holy Word of God.

Your ordained Witch, Preacher, and Prophetess, called and hand picked by JEHOVAH,

- Penelope Summers

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queenof-literature · 3 years

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Hiiiiiiii! Is it alright to have a fic of th LU boys in a modern setting?

Hi anon! Thank you for the request! I’m so sorry... this turned out SO LONG

Anyway

What’s this? Me doing a request after I have completely dropped the ball on everything? I’m so sorry as I stated if I haven’t directly/publicly announced I am not comfortable doing a request then I HAVE gotten all your requests and I am working on them. There’s just a lot going on right now. I love reading through all of your requests/messages, and I love writing them. Just a reminder: For now requests are closed until I can honor my commitment and catch up, but they’ll open back up eventually.

Thank you for the request anon, I had a blast writing it! I hope it didn’t turn out too crack for your tastes.

Here’s the link for this story on Ao3

TW: Implied child abuse and themes of death. Not very explicit, but the warning is there

When Time laid eyes on his child for the first time, he knew he would do anything to protect him. Bundled in Malon’s arms, huge blue eyes looking up at him curiously, little fingers reached up to grab at him. Truthfully Time was worried that the one eye would scare his son. Malon told him that was ridiculous, he was the boy's father and the boy would know. It turns out she was right, the little boy looked at his father happily and reached up towards the man’s face, not bothered by the scars, marks, or lack of a right eye. Malon would later tease him for crying, but that was okay.

It’s interesting how children don’t always match up with your imagination. His son was shy, to the point where it was becoming worrying for Time and Malon. They took him to see a counselor, after another fight with the boy’s teacher at how he wouldn’t participate in class. Social Anxiety, a severe case according to the counselor. His son would only talk at home, becoming silent anywhere else. After multiple sessions, Time had a plethora of information to help his son through it. This is not what he expected for his son’s childhood, but that didn’t matter. Life was full of surprises and his son was one of the brightest lights Time had ever met, and he would love him no matter what.

“Dad?” The six year old in his lap drawing Time’s attention away from his book.

“Yes?” Time brought his full attention to his son.

“Is your name really Time?”

“Why are you asking, little wolf?” Time asked in amusement.

“Your name sounds weird compared to other names.” His son told him matter of factly, feeling the vibrations of his dad’s laugh against his back.

“No, pup. Time is a nickname that I got and it just kind of stuck.” Time told his son. He hadn’t even considered he would question his father’s name, it was just normal to Time at this point.

“So it’s a nickname? Can I have one? Where’d you get it from?” Twilight bounced on his lap. Time paused. Had he really never shown his son his old game console?

“Well, I was absolutely obsessed with a game: Ocarina of Time.” Time waved his hands with flourish, causing his son to giggle.

“Ocarina? Like the instrument you play?”

“That’s the one.” Time confirmed, mind jumping back to the lullabies he would play to get his son to sleep. “These games helped me…” Time trailed off, not exactly wanting to talk about his not-so-great childhood to his six year old. “They helped me through some tough times.” Time said gently. “I could go on an adventure, be a hero, explore, anything.” Time was brought out of his musings by his son’s large and curious eyes.

“Can I play?” His son asked shyly, and Time couldn’t help but grin at his son wanting to share that with him.

“Of course, pup! Although I have to warn you.” His son perked up at Time’s serious expression. “If you find one you like, there may be no going back from the nickname.” Time warned, thinking back to the point in his life where everyone simply called him ‘Time’ instead of his real name. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Time asked seriously, struggling to hold back his laugh when his son nodded back just as serious.

“I’m ready.” Twilight confirmed.

The rest of the day was spent with Time teaching his son how to play his old games, until it eventually came time where his son wanted to pick one. His son stared ahead at his collection, eyes lighting up when he saw one in particular. Oh, Time should have known how this would go.

“Wolf!” His son shouted excitedly as he looked at the cover of the game.

“That’s a good one!” Time smiled at the worn game, the gold letters ‘Twilight Princess’ stood out against the wolf of the cover. His son was obsessed with animals, wolves in particular. They spent some time playing in the basement, his son instantly fell in love with the game, spending most of his time shapeshifting in and out of wolf form and babbling excitedly about how cool it was. Him and Time were so immersed they didn’t even hear Malon come home. Twilight jumped up when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Mom! Mom!” Twilight yelled, running up to hug his mother’s legs. “I have a nickname just like Dad! Twilight! Look what I can do!” Twilight ran back to the controller and shapeshifted into a wolf, mesmerized as the character howled again. Time looked back with a sheepish look as Malon raised an amused eyebrow. Of course she couldn’t be mad when the now nicknamed Twilight dragged her over and showed her all the things he could do in the game. She hadn’t seen her son this outgoing and happy in a long time. Besides, Twilight certainly wasn’t a bad name to have.

Time sighed in relief as he made it to his son’s school just in time for pickup. His shift had run a little overtime and he had to take a shortcut just to make it. Time beamed as his seven year old ran up to him. He still struggled to talk in the classroom, but he was just as energetic as ever.

“Dad!” Time scooped up Twilight just as the boy launched at him. “Guess what!” Twilight said excitedly. “What?” Time asked. “I made a friend!” Twilight beamed. Now that surprised Time. His boy always had trouble making friends, everyone in class tended to avoid him as much as Time hated to even think about that.

“That’s amazing, Twi! What’s their name?” Time asked, carrying Twilight to his car. Twilight got a little embarrassed, peaking Time’s interest.

“Well… it turns out he likes the same games we do!” Twilight said, surprising Time once again. “So we made up a nickname for him too. I’m sorry, I hope that’s okay.” Twilight looked up sadly at Time’s face.

“Of course that’s fine, bud.” Time reassured, and Twilight lit up once again. “Now, what’s his favorite game? His answer depends on if you can be friends with him or not.” Time joked, making Twilight giggle from the backseat.

“He likes A Tale of Warriors.” Twilight said. “So Warrors.” Time was silent for a moment.

“That game was okay. Ocarina of Time is still the best.” Time smirked as Twilight once again went into his argument about how, no, Twilight Princess was the best.

The first time Warriors was over for dinner, he continued to surprise Time. He was the opposite of their son, not a shy bone in his body, but he was a sweet kid and was obviously raised with manners. Time was even more surprised he was friends with Twilight when he met the kid in person. According to what he heard from Twilight, Warriors was quite popular among his class, and kids tended to not have patience for those very far outside their social circle, and Twilight was as quiet as they came in class. But the two had become as thick as thieves, Warriors apparently didn’t care at all how quiet Twilight was, he tossed everything aside to befriend Time’s son no matter what was said behind their back, and Time couldn’t help but feel grateful that his son had such a loyal friend.

Malon and Time were planning on using the boy’s given name, whatever it was, but Twilight proudly introduced his friend as ‘Warriors’ and said boy seemed very happy to have that nickname. So Warriors it was.

Dinner was louder than usual with their son’s friend, but it didn’t seem to stress their son out at all. It was obvious the two boys were close despite their obvious differences, and both parents were happy their boy was smiling and laughing around another child. By the time Warriors’ mother came to pick him up, the family had grown close with Twilight’s friend. When Time met Warriors’ mother it was obvious where the little boy got his manners from. The woman was sweet and polite, but obviously protective of her son. Time saw her scan the environment and her son’s happiness the way Malon always did with Twilight.

Warriors raced into his mother’s arms and chatted away about his evening, and it was obvious how close their bond was. Time would find out later from the woman part of the reason why. It was only her and Warriors, with her becoming an expert at balancing her career, son, and making sure her ex husband kept away from them. The woman wouldn’t tell them what happened with Warriors’ father and why they split, but by the dark, protective look on her face it became obvious to Time what had happened.

That’s why the night Time and Malon had rushed to the hospital after a panicked call from Warriors, and they saw him sitting alone in the waiting room wrapped in his mother’s blue scarf and sobbing, Malon instantly swept the boy into her warm arms. Time knew from that moment on, he had another son.

The next friend Twilight made was at eight years old. Both he and Warriors had accepted the new student into their circle as soon as they talked to him. It was an instant click, from what Time heard. The little boy was one of the sweetest kids Time had ever met, and also pretty quiet. Twilight knew the struggle of being quiet in a new and scary classroom, and had gone and tried to befriend him. Time couldn’t be more proud of him.

“I’m proud of you.” Time told his son as they were on their way to pick up Warriors from fencing practice. Warriors was still in grief, of course he was, but fencing had really struck a chord with the boy. According to him, feeling the sabre in his hand was one of the best feelings in the world. Time could tell that having something he was passionate about was helping him heal, no matter how slow the process was. Plus, according to his teacher, Warriors was a natural.

“It was just talking to him.” Twilight replied, a little confused.

“But most won’t do that. It’s hard being a new student. I’m proud of you for reaching out, I know how scary that is.” Especially for you. Time didn’t say the thought out loud. Twilight had been getting better at coping with his social anxiety, and Time and Malon did everything they could to give him the tools he needed, but the boy still struggled immensely.

“...do you know about any parents missing a child?” Twilight asked hesitantly. Time almost slammed on the brakes in shock.

“Do I what?” Time asked.

“Well… the new kid said that he lives home to home and he doesn’t know where his parents are. I just thought since you help find people you might know. I want to help him.” Twilight told his dad nervously. Time went cold. That sounded a lot like foster care to him.

“I’m sorry, pup, I don’t know of anything.” Time confirmed sadly, not knowing what else to say. It was painfully obvious the parents weren’t missing, but most likely left their child to the system. Time tried so hard not to be mad, he knew not every parent had the opportunities to provide for a child. He just hoped that child had better experiences than he did.

The boys had been in the basement for a while, Time figured he should go and check on the troublesome trio and make sure they didn’t find any trouble. He walked down the stairs, only to hear the sound of a battle.

“Which one are you boys playing now?” Time asked in amusement, only to be completely ignored. “Twilight, Warriors-” before Time could say the third boy's name, Warriors interrupted him. “It’s Sky now!” Warriors hit the third boy, now deemed Sky, playfully on the shoulder.

“Awe, Skyward Sword. Good choice.” Time laughed at the fact that now both of his sons, and their friend, all had nicknames from the same game series.

Later that night, Sky got his backpack and was prepared to open the door.

“Oh! Is your guardian here dear?” Malon asked, looking out the window.

“No Ms. Malon.” Sky said shyly. “I’m walking home.”

“Just Malon is fine sweetie. It’s getting awfully late to walk…” Malon frowned in concern. “I’ll drive you home.” Malon offered brightly.

“Oh that’s okay Ms- Malon.” Sky stammered nervously. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.

“No trouble at all, dear.” Malon smiled, grabbing her keys.

“Thank you.” Sky smiled at her gratefully, and she could melt just looking at the small boy’s smile. Sky was quiet the entire ride over, only answering small questions when Malon asked. She didn’t put too much pressure on the boy, him and her son seemed very similar in how they handled social situations.

“Is this it?” Malon double checked, approaching a suburban looking house.

“Yes.” Sky chipped. “Thank you again!” Sky said.

“Anytime sweetheart! Here, I’ll walk you up.” Malon turned off her car, glancing at Sky’s nervous expression as they approached the door. She would have to pay close attention to what awaited them at the top of the porch. Sure, Sky could just be a nervous kid, but Malon felt something else was going on, and her instincts were rarely wrong. She knocked politely on the door, noticing how Sky shied away from the door ever so slightly.

“Oh hello.” A tall man answered the door. Everything in the home just seemed normal, perhaps a little too neat. The man who she assumed was the foster father had brown hair and hazel eyes, in the background he saw a woman playing with children that looked exactly like them. Everything seemed to be fine, but Malon knew better than to write off Sky’s behavior. Many awful things could happen behind closed doors. “Oh! There you are.” The man looked at Sky, but didn’t seem particularly happy to see him, nor was he angry. Simply neutral. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.” The man said to Malon, making Sky shrink down even more, as he slowly walked past the man and into the house. The woman playing with her children didn’t even acknowledge him, all of her attention on the kids in front of her.

“Not at all, he was a delight.” Malon smiled despite the disturbing implications in front of her. “He’s such a sweetheart, you’re very lucky to have a kid like him.” There, she had dropped the bait, now to see how he responded. “Oh. He’s not ours. We have kids of our own.” The man said casually, and Malon felt her blood boil at the tone of voice the man had. As if blood was everything, as if she didn’t already have a son at home that wasn’t her blood. It changed nothing, she loved both her boys more than anything. “Anyway, it’s been a pleasure, have a good night.” An insincere tone spoke up before there was a door in her face. She understood now what was going on, she understood perfectly.

Malon marched to her car, fuming as she drove home. How dare they! How dare they! There wasn’t a mark on Sky, not physically, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ignored and neglected in that home. Why would those people even volunteer to foster if that’s how they felt? For the pats on the back? For the praises?

By the time she got home, her husband and the boys were all in bed. She quickly hid her anger enough to wish each of her boys a goodnight and make sure they were settled in their rooms, before gently shutting their doors and marching to her and her husband’s room.

“Hey, love. How we-” Time trailed off as he saw the thunderous look his wife held. Oh no.

“How would you feel about getting a foster license?”

Malon and Time, of course always asked their current children if adopting and fostering was alright with them. Twilight was very eager when he found out Warriors and him were going to be brothers, even if the situation itself was tragic. And both him and Warriors were ecstatic at the implication that Sky might be their brother too.

“Don’t get too excited.” Time chided when he saw the looks on his boys’ faces. “This doesn’t mean we can adopt him. It may not be what he wants, and he’s been in the foster system for some time now so it’s different than it was with Warriors.” Time explained.

“Is it because my mom…” Warriors trailed off. Warriors’ child psychologist told them that Warriors had a hard time saying the word ‘death’, which was not out of the ordinary for children who were grieving.

“We were your mother’s emergency contact, love.” Malon explained gently. “So it was easier for us to adopt you. Sky has been in the foster care system for a while now, and they have a lot of precautions to make sure he’s safe. I know this all is very confusing. Do you understand, at least a little bit?” Malon checked, and Warriors nodded slowly.

“I think so. Well, I hope Sky says yes!” Warriors exclaimed.

“Me too, sweetheart. But don’t push him.” Malon reminded. Overall she was very pleased with how the boys seemed to understand the situation. Then Twilight piped up.

“So… are we going to adopt every friend I make?” Okay maybe Malon would need to explain this one more time.

A week into fostering and Sky was still quiet, but Warriors and Twilight had a habit of making him laugh and bringing him out of his shell. He seemed fascinated whenever Time and Malon gave him even an ounce of attention, and that made their hearts twist painfully. Time, who had similar experiences, had gently explained to Sky that ignoring a child is absolutely not normal, and that he deserved better. The child had not seemed to believe Time completely, but he was slowly getting used to their home life. He enjoyed helping Malon in the garden, asking Time about his job, and playing games with Warriors and Twilight. After two months, Malon and Time thought it was finally the right moment to ask.

“Sky… would you like to be a permanent member of the family? The option is up to you, but we would love to adopt you if you’ll be happy here.” Through many tears, all Sky could do was nod.

Time sighed and cracked his back. A week of desk work made his back make all sorts of fun pops. He wanted to be out in the field again, but life as a detective had been slow so far. Well, he should have been careful what he wished for.

“Detective! I need you to go with Officer Watson.” His captain called out urgently.

“What happened?” Time got up, already grabbing his jacket.

“Two kids. They found them on the streets. They need you to talk to them and calm them down, the EMTs can’t get close without them lashing out.” Well… that wasn’t exactly what Time was expecting.

“Wait what?” Time halted. “Why me? I’m a detective not an officer.”

“We have no available social services to go into the field, they’re refusing to come with the patrol officers, you have three kids, and a background in negotiation. Now go!” His captain ordered. Time resisted rolling his eyes at the captain’s demanding tone and walked briskly with Officer Watson to a patrol car. What did he mean by kids? If this was the streets of around here, that most likely meant late teens who had run away from home.

They were absolutely not in their late teens. By kids, they meant children. They looked younger than his boys, sitting in a dingy alley with torn and dirty clothes. The cops around them were obviously giving them space, but surrounded them loosely to ensure they didn’t run off and get themselves hurt. Well, more hurt.

The one that looked older was curled protectively around the younger, who had an obviously broken leg with a very worrying amount of blood. It looked like the EMTs couldn’t get close with the older ordering them to get away and shoving the younger’s head deeper into his collarbone.

“Hey, give them a little more space.” Time ordered the officers, who complied once they saw who had spoken. Time kneeled down, giving the boys plenty of space. The oldest looked no older than eight, and had stark, icy blue eyes that peered at Time with distrust and harshness. He had bright blonde hair with an odd pink streak, and Time wondered if the boy had gotten a hold of some hair dye. The younger was in the older boy’s lap, and some of the biggest brown eyes Time had ever seen peered out from behind brunette fringe.

“Hi. My name is Time.” Time introduced himself, still kneeling a bit away. “What are your names?”

“Like we’d tell you that.” The older one snapped.

“I understand this is scary, but you two aren’t in trouble. We just want to get you two looked over. That leg looks really bad.” Time reassured, looking at the younger’s mangled leg in concern. Time didn’t have long before the EMTs would have no choice but to rush in and Time really didn’t want to get to that point.

“You don’t understand! You’ll separate us!” The older spoke fiercely, but Time heard the way his voice wavered underneath.

“Are you two brothers?” Time questioned.

“W-we don’t have the same parents.” The younger’s timid and pained voice spoke up.

“That doesn’t matter. Not really.” Time assured. “You two seem close.” The younger nodded shyly from against the older’s chest.

“If we go with you, they’ll separate us.” It seemed the older had knowledge and bad experiences with social workers.

“I have an Emergency Foster License.” Time breathed out, suddenly remembering his decision. After him and Malon were powerless to help Sky until after a multitude of paperwork and negotiations were made, Time and Malon got both a normal license and an EFC, so that if a similar situation happened a child could be placed with them and hopefully stay with them for longer than a few days.

“What does that mean?” The younger asked, apparently having heard Time’s whisper of realization.

“If you come with us, you can stay with me until we figure something out. Both of you.” Time offered. These boys were obviously close, Time assumed they met after they had been exiled to the streets. He didn’t want to see them separated either. The older boy looked like he was about to protest, but in drawing the younger boy closer, he agitated his leg, causing the younger boy to cry out in pain. The older snapped his head to look at him, his face softening as he tried to sooth him.

“I know you want to protect him.” Time addressed the blonde haired one. “I’m sure you’ve done a great job so far. But he needs medical attention. That leg will only get worse, and it’s already not healing properly.” Time didn’t want to scare them, but they needed to know how serious the younger’s leg was. Time could tell it had been a problem for some time, and any longer would mean infection. The older one bit his lip, Time could tell the older was thinking hard about this and he felt his heart squeeze. Someone this young shouldn’t have to make such a huge decision.

“We’ll stay together?” The older asked.

“I’ll make sure of it.” And Time meant that. He wouldn’t let these two be permanently separated.

“Will you come with us?” The older asked. Time agreed instantly, although he was a little surprised that the blonde haired boy trusted him enough to ask that. Although, perhaps he was the only one who had shown any interest in keeping the two together, and both boys seemed determined to make sure that happened.

“I’ll stay with you the entire time if that’s what you want.” Time confirmed, and he kept his promise, even as the younger was loaded into the ambulance.

“Let me go!” The blonde haired boy yelled, thrashing in Time’s hold. The younger boy was being taken away into surgery, and the older boy was not happy. In fact, he was absolutely furious.

“You can’t go into the operating room with him, little one.” Time patiently tried to explain.

“You promised we’d be together!” The older one protested, not ceasing his struggle.

“We’ll see him as soon as he’s awake.” Time reassured. “But you can’t go with him for now.”

“Why?” The child demanded. Time considered how to explain this, Whenever one of his son’s asked a question about the world, Malon or Time tried to explain it in ways that would make sense to a young mind, instead of getting annoyed at all their questions.

“Well… when someone is in surgery, they need to be in a very clean environment. Doctors take a lot of special steps to make sure the room is clean, or else germs can get in during the surgery and hurt the person more. Does that make sense?” Time tried his best to explain. The little boy bit his lip, before nodding slowly and relaxing slightly in Time’s grip.

“How about we sit down, and as soon as it's okay we can see him. Okay?” Time coaxed.

“Okay.” The boy agreed quietly, ceasing his struggle and pulling away from Time. Together they sat, while Time texted Malon to let her know the situation and the promise he had made. He didn’t want to leave the child beside him to make the call, but he needed to let his wife know that he was going to be late… with two extra children along with him. He apologized as many times as he could in his text, but Malon assured him that she knew what she was getting into when they got their licenses.

‘I’ll fill out the paperwork and fax it.’ Malon offered. Bless that woman.

Three hours later, Time sat in a small hospital room as two boys slept in the bed. One with a few bandages here and there, and one with a casted leg. The nurses had tried to scold the blonde boy for crowding the younger, but the icy blue glare could apparently scare off even full grown adults. Just then, a nurse entered the room.

“Are you the one who filled out the EFC paperwork?” The young woman asked.

“My wife did. Please, call me Time. A nickname.” Time got up to shake the brunette woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Lydia. I just wanted to inform you that we’re keeping them overnight for observation, especially for the leg.” She explained, gesturing to the smaller boy’s green casted leg. Since the younger wasn’t conscious for choosing the color, they asked the older child if the younger had a favorite color. Apparently it was grass green. “It’s good that we took care of it when we did, but he should be fine with a few weeks of bedrest and the medicine we prescribed. I’ll make sure he has crutches by tomorrow but I recommend at least a week of very minimal movement. He’ll most likely need physical therapy. The other boy’s injuries were mostly superficial.” Time nodded, bringing out his phone.

“Excuse me, I need to text my wife.” he began telling Malon that he would be here overnight, and what to expect. There was no way he was breaking his promise, He would stay until they both got released.

“Of course, no problem at all. Um… I noticed you left their names blank on the paperwork...” The nurse started.

“They didn’t even give me fake names.” Time replied. “Will that be a problem?”

“It’s certainly not ideal, but it's not the first time that’s happened.” The nurse replied sadly. “Since it’s an EFC, I can submit it and explain the situation. But if you could find out their names eventually, that would be a big help.”

“Thank you so much.” Time was grateful the nurse was being so helpful. This could have gone a lot worse.

“Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.” The young lady smiled and left to give them some privacy. Time settled in and checked the clock, seeing it was only 11 pm, and countless questions raced through his head. If they were put in the foster system, would anyone want them both? Would anyone be willing to keep up with the younger’s physical therapy? There were good people in the world, but everyone had their limitations. This was going to be a long night.

Both boys seemed genuinely surprised Time was still there in the morning.

“How are you boys feeling?” Time asked gently.

“I’m okay.” The older replied, looking down at the small brunette curled up next to him.

“I’m good.” The brunette replied groggily, flinching at the gentle pull of his ear by the older. “I’m tired and I feel numb and dizzy.” The brunette corrected. It seemed the older was used to the younger lying about how he felt.

“That’s normal.” Time assured. “You’re on a lot of medicine, but it will help you, I promise. And you can rest plenty when we get home. Are you boys okay with staying on the couch? It’s plenty big for both of you. I have three sons at home, but they’re all very nice.” There weren't many options in their home, their last guest room had been converted into Sky’s room months ago. But if their guests weren’t comfortable with that, then he and Malon would figure it out. The littlest one gasped and tugged on the older’s shirt.

“I’ve never been on a couch before.” The brunette whispered excitedly. Time’s heart stopped completely. Based on the boy’s level of excitement, it seemed that any comfort at all eluded him. Had he ever even had a family? A bed? A room? Anything at all? Based on what he had heard from their conversations, he guessed that the older had run away from a home he was placed in, and the younger seemed to have been on the streets for as long as he could remember. Time had no idea how he had survived on his own so young, but he wasn’t going to question what he was grateful for.

The oldest seemed to notice the look on Time’s face, and quickly replied, trying to take the attention off of the two boys’ situation.

“That’s fine.” He stopped, before whispering “Thank you.” With so much sincerity that Time didn’t even realize it came from the older boy at first.

“It’s no problem.” Time smiled.

After a lot of paperwork, a few calls home, and one wheelchair ride, Time was on his way home with two very tired boys in his backseat. He couldn’t lie, he was nervous bringing the boys home when he knew almost nothing about them. The doctors had told him they estimated their ages to be 7 and 8, so he hoped they would get along with his 8 and 9 year olds.

“Can I ask for your names?” Time asked, looking in his rearview mirror. The youngest opened his mouth, but the older stopped him.

“No.” The blonde snapped. Time sighed.

“Okay, fair enough. But we need to figure out what to call you boys.” Time hummed thoughtfully, before an idea struck him. “My family has a tradition, we choose our nicknames based on our favorite video game series. Mine is Time, my sons’ are Twilight, Warriors and Sky. If you boys are interested we can do the same for you.” Time offered. The older one looked like he was going to reject the offer, but the younger excitedly tugged on his sleeve.

“Okay.” The older conceded.

Their two guests sat on their upstairs couch, as Time set up the old game console. His sons were doing their best to keep their distance, as Malon had warned them to do, but Time could tell they were excited to see which games the two would pick. After several hours of fascinated playing, the younger had decided he enjoyed ‘Hero of Hyrule’ the most, while the oldest couldn’t decide which one he liked the most.

“Why don’t you just combine them? The ones you seem to like most were part of the Legend of Oracle series. How about Oracle?” Warriors offered. Over the course of playing, his sons had eased their way to sitting in front of the couch, all excitedly calling out moves with their two guests. Time was grateful they all seemed to get along. Warriors and the older child had taken on a rivalry, but it seemed mostly playful as far as Time could tell. The child wrinkled his nose at Warriors’ ‘Oracle’ suggestion. “Okay… Legend?” Warriors offered, and the boy’s eyes seemed to light up, before he quickly tried to hide his excitement. “Legend is fine. Hyrule fine with you, kid?” The older asked the younger, and the brunette beamed and nodded.

“Legend and Hyrule it is.” Time confirmed, At this point he should make a knighting ceremony.

One month later, their foster time was up, and Malon and Time knew they couldn’t give those two up so easily. After talking to their boys, who agreed full heartedly that they didn't want Legend and Hyrule to go, they arranged their bedroom so Twilight and Warriors would share, since Sky thrived on having his own space sometimes, and Hyrule and Legend could share Sky’s old room. Malon and Time felt guilty their children had to share, and they didn’t want them to feel jealous two more boys were moving in. But their boys made it very adamant that they wanted Hyrule and Legend to be a part of their family if that’s what the two boys wanted.

A few days, one question, many joyous tears, and one surprise bedroom later, Time had two more sons.

Word got around quickly that Time had five children. Twilight and Warriors had turned ten, their birthdays only two months apart. Sky was almost ten, and Legend had just recently turned nine according to his old birth certificate they managed to scrounge up. They had no idea when Hyrule’s birthday was, so they went off of the guess that the boy was seven, and they let Hyrule choose his new birthday. Legally that was very rare, but nop one had any idea what to do with a little boy that hadn’t officially existed in official records until his first trip to the hospital. The little boy had chosen the day he first went home with Time as his birthday, which Time absolutely did not find adorable. Nope, not at all.

But word of his five children quickly got around his job, and he was called in for many cases where interviewing children was involved.

“Time!” His captain yelled across the precinct. Time instantly stood at attention and walked to the captain’s office.

“Yes, sir?” Time replied dutifully. As much as his bossy tone annoyed Time sometimes, the man was a good captain, and he had a good heart.

“I need you in Interrogation Room 2. Four kids were caught stealing from the convenience store on 34th.” The captain passed Time a case folder.

“Children as in…”

“We think they’re about eight, they appear to be quadruplets, all identical.” The captain replied, and Time almost dropped the case file.

“They’re eight?” Time asked incredulously. “Why the hell are they in an interrogation room?” Time’s voice was on the verge of yelling.

“We don’t know what else to do!” His captain snapped. “Quadruplets are rre, and yet we can’t find any recent records of any, so we don’t think they have parents. They won’t even tell us their first names.” The captain sighed, obviously having his fill with the mysterious case.

“Okay. But I’m not interrogating them.” Time said firmly.

“We don’t want you too. They’re not under arrest, they’re children. But we can’t just let them go without a parent or guardian.”

“Okay… I’ll see if I can find out anything from them.” Time stood and began walking out.

“Oh, and Time?” His captain called out, making Time pause in the doorway.

“Yes?” Time asked, not liking his captain’s smirk.

“Try to restrain from adopting these ones.”

“Ha ha.”

When his captain said identical, he really meant identical. The main difference was they each had a different colored shirt on, but each was dirty and torn. And when looking closely, Time could see a few slight differences in their faces. Time sat down in front of them quietly.

“Hi there. My name is Time. Could you tell me your names?” Time asked, and unsurprisingly, he was met with silence. “I know this room looks a little scary,” Time began, and the one in purple scoffed,”but”, Time continued,”You guys aren’t under arrest or anything. We just can’t let you go without a parent or guardian.”

“But… we don’t have one.” The one in red said hesitantly, going quiet again when the one in blue nudged him under the table.

“There’s no one talking care of you?” Time asked gently. “Is that why you needed to steal from the store?”

“We’re just trying to survive.” The one in green spoke up for his brothers. He was obviously protective over them.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I understand.” Time began. “I wasn’t always in the best living situations when I was little-”

“Don’t try that.” The one in blue piped up, his brown eyes identical to his brothers’. “Don’t try to relate to us. No one can, no one can even tell us apart. If we switch clothes right now you wouldn’t know who was who. Just let us leave.” Time raised an eyebrow. These boys were all certainly intelligent.

“The one in red has two freckles to the left of his left eye. The one in green has a sharper jawline. The one in blue has a light freckle on his chin, and the one in purple has a thinner nose.” Time rambled off perfectly, only to be met with stunned silence.

“No one’s ever…” The one one started before trailing off. All four brother’s looked stunned that Time had even bothered to tell them apart.

“I can help you more if you tell me your names?” Time asked once again.

“We don’t have any.” The one in green finally answered in a hushed voice.

“What?” Time asked, surely he hadn’t heard correctly.

“We don’t have any.” The one in violet said again. “Everyone just calls us Four. We’re just one person to them… no one bothered to name us.” Time felt his world shatter. No names… their entire identity reliant on the fact that they were four.

“We don;t have anywhere to go.” The one in red whispered. “Please, just let us go.” Oh no. Not again. He was never going to live this down…

“You could come with me.”

After a sheepish call to his wife, and uproarious laughter from his captain and fellow officers, Time had a car loaded with identical children. Three in back and one in front.

“Um…” Time filled the awkward silence. “Just so you boys know, my wife and five kids are waiting for us, but they won’t bombard you or anything. I just thought you ought to know.” Time warned.

“I’m sorry, did you say five?” The blue one asked, stunned. Honestly all the boys seemed stunned the entire way home, like they couldn’t believe this was happening. Time had similar feelings. Bless his wife for being so understanding and loving, and his sons for being so accepting.

“Yeah.” Time rubbed his neck sheepishly, keeping on hand on the wheel. “They’re around your age actually.”

“Oh! Are they… twins or anything?” The one in violet asked, a slight hope to his voice, and Time felt guilty about shooting that hope down.

“Oh, no I’m sorry. Four of them are technically adopted.” Time corrected. It sometimes took the stunned looks to remind him that having five kids around the same age wasn’t ‘normal’. They were his sons and that was all that mattered.

“Oh… wow.” The one in violet said, not knowing what to say. Time didn’t either.

“Will we… finally get names?” The one in red asked with a quiet hope.

“Hmm. Funny you should mention that. You see, my family has a tradition…”

The newly dubbed Red, Green, Blue and Vio, were all having a blast playing Four Swords. The boys were amazing at working together to solve puzzles, which made sense when Time reviewed the security footage of the theft they pulled off before they were caught. Vio and Blue had a hard time getting along with his sons at first, but they all eventually settled in and got closer. His sons were watching the four work in perfect harmony in awe, while Malon and Time were in the kitchen talking in hushed voices.

“Malon, I’m so sorry. But they were all alone and-” Time panicked, and Malon quietly shushed him.

“Time, they’re wonderful.” Malon assured, that bright and sincere smile he fell in love with on her gentle face. “But they get along with our kids so well. I think you and I both know where this is going.” Time leaned down and buried his head in her shoulder.

“I love them already. So much, and I barely even know them. But Malon… four? We don't have the space. Sure I’m in for a promotion, but we don’t have the room. And what about our sons? What will they think?” Malon stroked his back and shushed him, and Time felt bad she had to comfort him like this.

“I’m worried about our sons too.” Malon sighed. “I think we should talk to them one by one, ask them truthfully and make sure they don’t think we’re replacing them. Twilight especially.” Time nodded into Malon’s shoulder.

“As for moving…” Malon started mischievously. He should have already known she had a plan.

“Well, you’ve always wanted to raise horses, and my father is moving away, he wants to travel and be on the road again. And he really wants that ranch to stay in the family…”

After talking to each of their boys individually, Malon and Time were reassured that no, no one thought they were being replaced, and yes, everyone wanted Red, Blue Green, and Vio in the family. In fact, the more the family grew the more excited each boy got. And when they received the news of the potential move to a ranch that was big, near town, and had the potential to have animals, the boys absolutely lost their minds in excitement, Twilight especially. Now all that was left was to ask the quadruplets if they wanted this.

“Boys…” Malon started. They had sat Red, Green, Blue and Red on their bed within time and Malon’s bedroom, the door sealed shut to give them some privacy. All of the boys looked nervous, fidgeting and holding onto each other.

“I know this is a big decision, and just know that there is no pressure either way.” After three conversations similar to this one, Malon and Time were pros at this.

“We would love for you to be permanent members of the family. We would love to adopt you all if you want.” Time finished to stunned silence. Red promptly burst into tears.

“We thought you were getting rid of us!” Red cried out.

“Oh sweetie, no.” Malon cooed. “I’m so sorry for scaring you all.” She pulled red into a hug and opened her arms for the rest to join in. Time surrounded them all in his arms.

“I think I can speak for us all.” Green joked, ever mature for his age. “We would love that, if you’ll have us.” The rest of his brothers nodded. Time heard a voice outside their door that sounded suspiciously like Warriors calling out ‘yes!’ behind the thick wood, followed by a frantic hush that sounded like Legend. Time put a finger to his lips, before sneaking over to the door. The boys on the bed covered their mouths to hush their laughter. Time yanked the door open quickly, five boys comically tumbling over into the bedroom.

“Boys!” Time scolded over the groaning pile of limbs. Hyrule had thankfully landed on top, his leg was healing but it was still quite weak. Time tried to be mad, he really did, but hearing the giggling of his wife and new sons made it extremely hard to be angry. Five pairs of eyes all peered up at him, and Time simply sighed. “Go on, then.” Time jerked his head towards the bed, and five boys rushed over (Hyrule being helped by Sky), and tackled their new brothers in hugs.

“Four!” Twilight called excitedly. “That’s a new record!”

Hectic months had passed by. It turns out Lon Lon Ranch was the perfect home for their family. Time had never seen Malon so happy, to have all this room to farm once again. Time himself wasn’t half bad, he was finally able to move Epona out of the stables he paid to keep her in and could spend far more time with her, spoiling her with apples and attention. Twilight was certainly happy to spend more time with the sweet horse as well. Each boy had their own job on the ranch, so work was done quickly and often within an hour. Twilight, now eleven, absolutely adored the goats Malon’s father left behind, and took extra good care of them. Warriors, on the cusp of eleven, liked painting making sure everything looked nice. Sky, now ten, took care of the cuccos because, for some reason, he got along with the little devil spawn extremely well. Legend, now 9 on the cusp of 10, would fill in wherever he was needed. He didn’t like or dislike any chores on the farm, but Malon and Time could tell he was happy here. Hyrule, who just turned 8, loved taking care of the animals with Twilight, and his leg had been getting much stronger with months of physical therapy. Red, Green, Blue, and Vio, who had, like Hyrule, chosen their own birthday and believed themselves to be about 9, loved crafting anything they could get their hands on. Malon had to teach them extra safety measures since they were so young, but they made anything from horseshoes, to little inventions around the farm. Overall, even though his life was hectic, Time was happier than he had ever been.

That’s why, on a rainy day, a little boy crashing onto his doorstep was the last thing he expected. But really, Time should expect the unexpected at this point.

“What was that?” Little Warriors called once he was down the stairs.

“Warriors, you’re supposed to be in bed.” Time scolded half heartedly as he too went to see what caused the crash on his porch. Time wandered out, his heart stopping as he realized it was a tiny boy with bleach blonde hair. Warriors gasped and ran over. “Warriors, careful.” Time chided and he went to check the boy. He was absolutely soaked, and had seemed to succumb to exhaustion. Time checked him over, and picked the tiny boy up upon seeing no injuries.

“War, go tell your mom to grab towels and bring them up to the guest room, and grab his bag.” Warriors did as he was told without complaint. Time brought the little boy up to their guest room, waiting to set him down so as to not soak the blankets. With how many children they had, Time was surprised they even had a guest room. But the ranch was much larger than their old home, and the quadruplets refused to even consider not sharing a room. Legend and Hyrule also wanted to share a room, and so did Twilight and Warriors. Sky was the only one who had his own room. Time checked, as usual, with a counselor and she told him it was normal that after what his sons had been through, they would want to share spaces. She did say that as they got older they would most likely want their own spaces, so Time and Malon had been saving up for an extension to the ranch. But for now, they had a spare room.

Malon rushed in with multiple towels, not asking any questions as she began to dry the boy off. Time appreciated that, since he had no answers. They got the boy settled. It was frustrating that all they could do was wait, but the boy wouldn’t wake up. So they waited.

An hour later, the boy finally began to stir. Both Time and Malon had waited so the child wouldn’t panic at waking alone in a strange room. Warriors had also refused to go to bed, and had stayed with them. Something about the smaller boy had struck a chord with him. Deep blue eyes opened, saw the three sitting near him, and panicked.

“Dear, it’s alright.” Malon shushed. “We found you on our porch and we dried you off. We’re not going to hurt you.” The boy calmed slightly, but still curled into himself.

“I’m sorry.” The boy mumbled, looking down in shame.

“Sweetheart it’s alright.” Malon reassured. “It’s no problem.”

“I stole.” The boy whispered, ashamed. “I stole some food and Grandma said never to steal but I was so hungry.” The little boy rambled on, pointing to his bag. Time gently picked up the sea themed bag and peeked inside.

“These don’t look like our crops.” Time showed Malon. It didn’t matter if they were his or not, a hungry little boy had taken some food and Time didn’t care if some of his crops got lost if it meant this boy was fed.

“The scary man at the other house chased me and I ran. I’m sorry I stole, I was just so hungry.” The boy sobbed, and Warriors had apparently deemed that enough. The older boy got up and pulled the younger into a hug, gentle enough that the little boy could escape if he wanted, but he burrowed into Warriors’ chest. The scary man next door… oh, probably Ingo. Time didn’t really interact with the man that much, but he did seem quite rude.

“It’s okay.” Time reassured once the boy’s sobs had calmed down. “How about we make you some stew.” Time offered, and the boy peered up hopefully. “How old are you?” Time asked. He had to know, but he knew the answer would crush him.

“Six.” The boy replied, unknowing of Time’s heart rate increasing. Hell… six years old.

“I’ll go make the stew.” Malon stated gently, but her message was clear. I’ll go make the food, you get information.

“What’s your name, little one?” Time asked. The younger just shook his head, and Time resisted a sigh. What was it with him and running into little boys who didn’t like giving away their names?

“Do you have any parents?” Time asked his next question, but he had already guessed the answer. The little boy shook his head, still clinging onto Warriors, his little hand gripping the older boy’s scarf he always wore.

“I had my grandma but…” The boy's lip quivered. “She got sick. And Aryll and I got taken away.” The boy finished, fresh tears leaking out.

“Aryll?” Warriors questioned.

“My little sister.” Wind answered. “They took us away. I found out she was ‘dopted.” The little boy bit his lip, thinking of the word. “But they said I wouldn’t be. I’m too old and she was young. They told me she was happy. I just want her to be happy, but they told me I wouldn’t be ‘dopted because I was too old.” Wind cried out. “So I ran away.” Wind finished, and Time was stunned. He didn’t even think he could relay that awful story to Malon.

“You can stay with us for as long as you want.” Time offered. “And we can try and find your sister.” The little boy whispered a quiet ‘thank you’, before succumbing to sleep once again in Warriors arms. Time offered to tuck the boy in.

“No… I’m okay here.” Warriors rejected, shuffling to lean against the pillows with the small boy in his arms. Time smiled sadly at how close they seemed already.

“Okay, I’ll be right back kiddo.” Time told Warriors. He really needed to talk to Malon.

“Sweetheart?” Malon prodded gently at the boy sleeping in Warriors’ arms. “We have some stew for you.” Thankfully the little boy woke up this time. As much as Malon wanted to spoil the boy with food, she knew that anything heavier than stew could do more harm than good. The boy’s groggy eyes opened and lit up at the smell of food.

“Really?” The boy asked shyly.

“Really.” Malon handed the boy his bowl while Warriors ensured he didn’t spill any.

“Thank you.” The boy smiled, and Malon felt her heart melt.

“Anytime. Now my husband said you had a little sister.” Malon brought up gently. To her surprise the boy lit up once more. “Mhm! Her name is Aryll. I’m a big brother!” The boy said excitedly, before becoming sad once more. “She got ‘dopted. But she’s happy.” The boy had a bittersweet smile that Malon never wanted to see on such a young face.

“So… you know where she is?” Malon pressed gently. The boy hesitated, then nodded.

“I snuck up and looked in the window. I don’t remember where though.” The boy murmured, voice filled with guilt. “She was giggling and laughing. The mean lady told me that ‘dopted meant she had new parents.” Malon wondered who ‘the mean lady was’, but it sounded like whoever it was had no tact whatsoever.

“Do they know she has a big brother?” Time questioned, watching the child shake his head.

“She got taken away from me.” The little boy teared up again. Time doubted that Aryll simply forgot about her brother, even if she was younger. Perhaps her new family simply didn’t know where to look since the boy had run away.

“If you want, you can stay here and we can help figure it all out.” Time offered after sharing a look with his wife. Warriors’ eyes grew in excitement as he looked at the little boy in his arms.

“...Thank you.” The boy peered up at them shyly.

“Do you want to tell us your name?” Malon prodded, but the boy bit his lip. His name didn’t feel the same without Aryll to call out for him excitedly.

“Family Tradition?” Warriors asked his parents, eyes full of mischief.

“Is there any other way at this point?” Time asked in a dry voice. Warriors laughed and explained the tradition to the little boy still tucked in his arms. After some contemplation, the little boy spoke up.

“Do you have one about pirates?”

Warriors and his new friend played Wind Waker until dawn. The newly named ‘Wind’ was too immersed to sleep, and Warriors claimed he wasn’t tired. Time and Malon decided to let them have their fun for tonight.

In the morning, Time and Malon went into each of their son’s rooms a little early and explained the situation. Most were excited, but they knew not to bombard their guest. It turned out, however, that Wind was an absolute chatterbox once he was comfortable in his environment. He talked Warriors’ ear off about pirates all night, and greeted all of the other boys in the house when they awoke.

Time went to the next door plot of land and paid Ingo back for the crops WInd had taken so the man wouldn’t see the boy and do anything like call the police. The man wasn’t happy, but Time didn’t exactly care.

Soon a month had passed having a happy six year old on the ranch, before they managed to track down Wind’s sister. Time and Malon were planning to go over the next afternoon and explain the situation to the little girl’s new parents. Wind was excited, of course he was, but everyone could tell something was eating at him.

“Wind, honey.” Malon kneeled down in the kitchen as her sons busied themselves elsewhere. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I need to be a good big brother. But…” Wind trailed off. “I really like it here.” The boy sniffled. Malon hadn’t even thought of that…

“Wind, maybe you could stay with us. You and Aryll could see each other whenever possible. I’m sorry honey, I know it's such a big choice to make, but no one will be mad no matter what you want to do. We just want you to be happy.” The little boy’s looked up at Malon with big eyes.

“Can… Can I talk to Wars?” Malon nodded and called Warriors from outside. The boys loved playing flashlight tag all around the ranch, and WInd would usually join them with a beaming smile. Tonight however, he just sat solemnly in the kitchen. Warriors came in from the backdoor, and Malon left to go talk to her husband in their bedroom.

“Wind? What’s wrong?” Warriors took Wind’s small hand and led them to the living room, sitting them both down on the couch.

“What if they don’t want me?” Wind asked with another sniffle, and Wars figured he meant Aryll’s parents.

“Then they’re stupid.” Wars stated.

“What if… what if I don’t want them. Wars, I don’t want to go.” Wind cried out, burying his head in his hands. Warriors pulled him into a hug. “Malon said I could stay, and I could see Aryll, but what if she hates me? What if Grandma would hate me for replacing her? What if-” Warriors shushed Wind gently.

“When I was seven…” Warriors started, taking a big breath. “When I was seven my mom and I got into a really bad crash.” Wind peered up at Warriors. “I was okay, but my mom- my mom didn’t make it out.” Wars whispered, trying to keep his tears at bay. “Malon and Time took me in without a second thought. And at first, I had a hard time being around Malon. She… reminded me too much of my mom. But then I realized that Malon would never replace my mom, just like she won’t replace your grandma. She would never try to, and neither would Time. They’re my mom and my dad, but that doesn’t change the fact that I still love my mom.” Warriors finished, and Wind just looked up at him with big eyes. “I don’t know your sister, but I think we all just want you to be happy, little pirate.” Wind threw himself at Warriors’ chest once again. A few minutes later, Time and Malon emerged from upstairs.

“Can I… Can I really stay?” Wind asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Time confirmed without hesitation.

“And I can still see Aryll?”

“Anytime you want.” Malon promised. “She is always welcome here, and she doesn’t live that far away from what we’ve seen.

Wind spent the rest of the night playing flashlight tag with his brothers, and chattering excitedly about how he would get to see his sister the next day.

Time truly thought he was done adopting children. What a fool he was.

Except this round, it wasn’t even his fault! It was his oldest son’s fault!

Time stared at his sheepish 12 year old from the doorway of his and Warriors’ room. More specifically, he was staring at the small body hiding behind his 12 year old son.

“Son…” Time started, already exasperated by the situation.

“...Yes Dad?” twilight asked with an innocent smile, as if he wasn’t very obviously hiding an entire child behind his back.

“Who’s behind you?” Time raised an eyebrow.

“Uhhh…” Twilight trailed off, looking behind him. “You can come out, cub. He won’t hurt you.” Twilight assured the body behind him.

“Cub?” Time questioned.

“I found him in an abandoned fox den!” Twilight defended. Time pinched the bridge of his nose. This entire situation was ridiculous.

“And why, pray tell, did you hide him in your room?” Time asked his eldest. Did Warriors even know there was a child hidden in his room?

“Well.” Twilight began, as if Time was the one who was being ridiculous. “I was going to hide him in here for a bit until you and Mom got home and sneak him some food. I was going to tell you, but you got home early. Dad…” Time perked up at his son’s serious tone. “He’s terrified of people. From what I can tell he has no one, and I worked for an hour to build up enough trust for him to come with me. He doesn’t talk and he was all alone! I couldn’t just leave him there!” Twilight defended, gently coaxing out the little boy behind him. The first thing Time noticed was the scars. Burn marks all over the boy’s face and exposed torso, down to his legs. The boy was only wearing a pair of shorts, and Time wondered how he hadn’t frozen out there. He had to be only seven or eight. Time sighed once again.

“Twi… I’m not mad, I’m not. But where will he stay?” Twilight perked up with a hope in his eyes.

“He can stay with me!” Twilight gestured to where the little one was practically attached to the older boy’s leg. It seemed once the little boy trusted someone, he absolutely was not going to let go. Time kneeled down to be more level with the little boy, who buried his face further into Twilight’s leg.

“Hello there.” Time said gently. “My name is Time. I’m Twilight’s dad. Do you want some food?” The little one’s eyes lit up in excitement, peering up to look at Twilight, as if asking permission.

“Does food sound good, Cub?” The little boy nodded slightly, and it was the most Time knew he would get out of the little boy.

“I’ll go make some stew and warn the others. You’re telling your mother this time.”

By the time Malon had arrived back to the ranch from her trip to the city, the Cub had been washed and fed, and Twilight had managed to wiggle the boy into some old clothes. The little boy looked quite happy about all of these, and Twilight even heard a little giggle. Malon had managed to introduce herself gently without the little boy panicking, but he was still attached to Twilight. The older boy didn’t seem to mind very much.

Time decided the best approach to introducing the little boy to the family would be to take it one member at a time, except for the quadruplets who would all be introduced at the same time to avoid later confusion at their similar appearances. Twilight took to the normal naming ceremony, the little boy excitedly picked out the cover with a vast field of wildlife, including a fox.

Wild spent the rest of the evening on Twilight’s lap being taught how to work the controller and gasping in delight at all the things he could do. Specifically all the things he could light on fire. Time would worry about that another day.

In between playing, Wild was introduced to the rest of the family. There were some bumps, such as confused sobbing when he saw four identical boys, but other than that it went as well as expected. The introduction with Hyrule probably went the best, since the boys had similar backstories. Time saw those two becoming partners in crime. Twilight promised he would figure out if Wild could talk or not, and if he couldn’t, Twilight promised he would find another way to communicate.

Overall, Wild was the most fast and unexpected acquisition of a child, but Time couldn’t say he was overly upset.

“So, another one then.” Malon teased after all their boys were tucked in.

“It appears so.” Time replied gruffly.

“Hm. Like father, like son.”

Time promptly banged his head on the table.

Idk I might upload an epilogue if y’all are interested.

Is this fic accurate to how the real world works? Nah. But this is an AU based on fiction, I did my best.

I’m going to specify that the video games the boys are named after aren’t the Legend of Zelda, they’re just random old games. This isn’t insanely meta or anything I just thought it would be a funny little easter egg haha.

Have an amazing week everyone!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #wild #twilight #warriors #time #malon #wind #four #legend #hyrule #sky #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

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belle-keys · 3 years

Text

I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

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fletchphoenix · 3 years

Text

He’s Helpless

so i saw @betrayedtraitor ‘s post about Donella being the ultimate mom at the varigo wedding and couldn’t resist writing some supportive Donella :)) enjoy! I’ll try to link the OG post but ya!

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Donella was happy.

Sure, Hugo had fucked up royally and betrayed her in order to help his boyfriend open the Eternal Library and, consequently, get possessed by her old partner, but he had found his happiness. She wasn’t one for sappy shit like soulmates or changing yourself at the last minute for the one you loved in order to make them happy - she used to despise it and think it was some bullshit trope for lonely people to indulge in, but somehow her son had well and truly proved her wrong.

She’d trained him up since he was a child to be the exact model of what she was - a thief. She taught him how to defend himself from attackers if he had to, how to steal and remove any trace that he was ever there, hell, she’d even trained him that the world was cruel and unforgiving, and that any hope you had would be crushed in an instant. She taught him love was simply something that people used to build you up and make you think you had purpose before they revoked it almost immediately. She really thought he’d accepted her ideals fully.

And then Varian came along.

Of course it would’ve been Ulla’s son to change her son’s mind. He’d inherited the moonstone blue, wide and curious eyes that his mother had, and her obsession with alchemy that she’d also passed on to her son. Maybe that’s why Hugo had gotten so attached to him, having someone so similar to his age and with the same interests, of course after years of having just Donella around him who was interested in alchemy, he’d instantly connect with someone else with that very interest.

It didn’t surprise her when Hugo had told her that he and Varian were together romantically. In fact, she had a bet going with Cyrus to see how long it was taken (which, by the way, she’d won, thank you very much) and supported the couple endlessly. They were adorable together, the pair clearly loving each other more than anything else in the universe and willing to do anything for each other.

What did surprise her was how long the proposal took. It took far too long for the pair to finally decide to propose, Donella was sure she’d turn to ash before they even decided to bring up the option to each other. So when it happened, needless to say she celebrated silently and tore into Hugo as though she were a starving animal and he was a piece of meat.

“I am very disappointed in you, Hugo. Very very disappointed.” She declared, pacing across the marble floor in the hallway, the heels of her boots clicking against it as her son gripped onto the hand of his now-fiance. They must’ve been scared, both boys shaking in each other’s arms before she turned her head to look at them. “I mean, really. You’re my son and you didn’t even propose first! I seriously can’t believe it! You seriously took so long that he had to take matters into his own hands!”

“Oh my g-Mom, you literally had me terrified!” Hugo complained as he leant forward, frowning at Donella and kissing Varian’s forehead as Varian cackled from laughter. Donella smiled softly and subtly as they held each other, nodding in approval towards her son-in-law before turning her back to them.

“All jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. I’m just disappointed it took you so long considering how many hours I’ve sat through you gushing about Varian and how he’s the ‘only person in the world for you’.” Hugo’s face flushed at that comment, his fiance smirking as Donella chuckled. “Anyway, get back to the party.” She ushered them back in with a smile before the widest grin in her life appeared on her face and she headed back in.

It was her proudest moment for her son to come to her for advice about her vows, though she’d never expected for his original draft to be so...long. She swore he’d been going on and on about the boy’s freckles for a whole month before finally moving on to something else. It was her fault - she’d tried and tried and tried to stop the boy from talking too much when he was a child, though it was a habit he never broke out of. He made a massive deal about a lot, and though it was useful in their previous line of work, they were good, (mostly) non-thieving people, and the need for an overbearing and..very weirdly specifically detailed explanation of something was no longer a necessity.

“You’ve been talking for 40 years about freckles, Hugo. Just-come here and let me show you how to do it.” she complained, leaning forward and taking a quill, dipping it generously in some ink before proceeding to examine the speech. Editing and crossing things out left,right and centre, she finally settled back with a sigh and looked at her son. “I know you love him, Hugo. I can tell. But seriously, some of this is just...not needed at all.”

“What do you mean?” the blonde asked cluelessly, sitting beside her and fixing his tie, “I think all of it is quite relevant.”

“You talked about how he snorts when he laughs and how many freckles he has, followed by a detailed description about their shapes, sizes and if they join together to make a constellation. That..it’s sweet but I felt like slamming my head into a wall and praying that it knocked me out completely for three days. Just...try something like this.” She began, picking up some parchment from the table and beginning to scribble down some notes, handing the sheet to her helpless son. “That can be your starting point.”

Hugo took a glance at the paper, cringing at the monotonous words on the page. “I...okay, these are truly something else. I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” He muttered, before something flashed over his face. “Oh ma. That reminds me. Me and V have been talking and uh..we wanted to know if you want to officiate the wedding. We thought you’d be the best pick for it so...what do you think?”

Donella’s heart soared at the prospect, though her face would never reveal the true extent of her emotions. Her son was really giving her the honour of officiating the wedding after everything that had happened between them. A tear must’ve welled in her eye, as Hugo’s face shifted into a frown. “Ma, are you okay? You..you don’t have to do it.”

Hesitantly, she pulled her son into a tight embrace, the boy seeming stunned before reciprocating the hug and holding onto her. “Yes-yes I’ll do that for you, Hugo. It would be an honour.” Donella declared, her face buried in her son’s shoulder as she let a few stray tears loose.

She was so proud of him when he read out his vows without a hitch, the abridged version of the original speech was marginally better thanks to meticulous planning from their combined efforts. “Are you crying, ma’am?” Cyrus questioned as her son stood hand in hand with his husband at the altar, their fingers intertwined and looking picture perfect, almost as though they were in a dream.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cyrus.” the woman declared as she raised a tissue to dab at her eyes while the ceremony continued in front of her. Hugo’s eyes shone with pure joy, matching his husband’s gleeful expression as they finally exchanged rings and shared a kiss with each other. She could even hear their friends, notably the Queen, King, Star princess and Firecracker (as Hugo had declared them) cheering and laughing out loud as they finally tied the knot.

And though she would later deny it, she still indulged herself in a few glasses of wine and rambled on and on about how Hugo was as a child, despite his pleas and begs for her to stop. She couldn’t help it - she was a mother after all and she was sure Ulla would’ve done the same if she were here.

Still though, as she looked at her son and the way he shared his first dance with his husband, he knew the pair were destined to be together, and that fate truly did exist as well as soulmates and all that lovey dovey shit she had been so quick to deny prior to their meeting. So as Donella leant back against the body of her once-henchman Cyrus, whose other arm was wrapped around his wife, she accepted the fact that she was content with whatever the future had to hold for the pair.

Donella was happy.

#varian #varigo #tangled varian #varian tangled #tangled hugo #varian x hugo #hugo tangled #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo x varian #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series #tangled donella #donella tangled

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blackdragonturds · 3 years

Text

“Here” Pt. 2

I’m in a writing mood today so here’s a treat! Enjoy!

Upon leaving the marketplace and auction, he led me to two more figures I didn’t recognize; a woman with yellow skin and black eyes like an insect holding a slug creature and a reptilian man with green stuff coming out his mouth.

“I bought ‘em. Reptile, D’Vorah, did you two see anyone follow me?”

“No, Erron. This one made sure no one followed.” The female must be D’Vorah. Reptile was simply, “Reptile?”… weird…but who am I to say. Erron tugged on my chain to get me closer.

“Y/N was the last available as the Kahn ordered. We made it in perfect time. Once we figure out what Kotal Kahn will do with you, then we can sort out business with that pesky Black Dragon business.”

“You worry too much Erron.” Reptile began, catching a fly with his tongue.

“Black Dragon?” I asked.

Erron sighed and tipped his hat.

“Good you know them.”

“Actually who are they?”

He looked to D’vorah before answering,

“Well, lets just say that asswipe Kano got some shit misplaced and the Kahn wants his money back.”

He continues watching D’Vorah reach into her pocket pulling out something like a medallion.

“You see, Y/N, the Black Dragon are a bunch of idiots who think being mercenaries, liars, thieves and vandals will get them places. I went to the Kahn since I got tired of their shit.”

“Wait, you worked for the Black Dragon too?”

“Used to is key here.”

I looked down at a strange insect burrowing itself into the sand as Erron pulled on my chain again.

“Come on.”

“Okay.”

Before my eyes, a large swirling vortex appeared as D’Vorah and Reptile walk through it. A portal?! No way!

I followed Erron through the portal as my skin tingled a little. Soon, I found myself in a massively decorated room. Gold statues everywhere and a teal skinned man in a throne of some kind wearing a crown of feathers and metals.

He was buff even to my standards when he reached for a big golden chalice and took a drink. Erron places his hand over his chest bowing to the man. I made a half-bow as best as I could, knowing I was still chained up. Out of respect for this realm’s emperor I suppose.

“Kotal, I have gotten your slave as you ordered my lord.”

“Excellent.” The man stood from his throne to approach me. His big hands grasp my cheeks looking directly at me.

Wow…his hands are huge, but gentle…

“Does the slave meet your requirements Kahn?” D’Vorah asked.

The teal skinned man rotated my face and made a face to show him processing his thoughts.

“The slave you chose is quite attractive for a human, Erron Black. Clear eyes, healthy complexion, soft skin, they’re perfect. You never fail to impress me you three.”

The man introduced himself to me upon taking my hands that were cold in his.

“My name is Kotal Kahn. I am ruler of Outworld and the employer of my three loyal subjects. You are quite lovely. You do show power, but its very weak, however, you can choose to decline.”

I felt confused,

“I’m bought and payed for…you’re telling me I can do whatever I want?”

The Kahn made a deep belly laugh,

“Well yes but also no. A half truth.”

I look at Erron who was busily tightening his mask. The Kahn stated with a kind tone,

“If you choose to decline I understand. if you accept you will live in a life of luxury and comfort, as promised. Consider yourself fortunate to serve such divine purpose.”

I looked down at his feet unsure of what to feel. Memories of my childhood came back to me. My memories of my parents being slaughtered by beast-like men with blades in their arms, long needlelike teeth and my mother screaming and bleeding. Memories of my past came flooding back. My father sliced in half. My brother being devoured and my baby sister stolen and crying. My family was gone, and I was sole survivor. Suddenly, in a fit of frustration I cried, throwing my hands down out of his.

“NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I BEEN FORTUNATE!”

Tears stream down my face as I feel my cheeks and neck grow warmer. I made myself look like an idiot, I know it.

Reptile hissed at me,

“That’s no way to act in front of the Kahn! You spoiled insolent child!”

“Reptile, please…” Kotal Kahn silenced him. He patted my head.

“If what you say is true, then maybe we can fix that, hmm?”

I looked up at him, wondering what he was up to. He looked at the chain around my neck and barely pokes it with his fingers. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” As if by magic, the chain cracked and split and suddenly popped off of my neck shattering like glass. I was spellbound yet amazed at what he was. He addressed Erron, “I presume you’re tired, Erron, show this one to their room.” Nodding at him, Erron came to me, “Come follow me, I’ll show you to your room.” I follow him to a small room with a large bed and silk sheets, beautiful furniture and a small desk and wardrobe. First I’m a slave now a royal court member? Wow. Erron caught my attention, “I’ll have the Kahn’s chefs to bring you something to eat. Feel free to bathe if you need to.” “Thanks.” Closing the carved stone door on the way out, I wondered how this all happened so fast. Sitting down on the bed, I stared out the window for a while. I can only guess how long this will last. Thanks guys! <3

#erron black mkx #fanfic #d'vorah #reptile mk #idk what to tag this as #fanfiction #kotal kahn

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shadow-scenarios · 4 years

Note

Hello~ may I ask for something slightly specific? I wanted to ask about a scenario in which the reader recently obtains the Meta-Nav but instead of the PT finding out first, Goro does. See, the reader and Goro have recently become acquaintances and reader thinks that the Meta-Nav is something related to illegal activity so she goes to consult their detective friend on this mysterious app! Haha, sorry if this is too specific ;-;

Hey there simulationone, this isn’t too specific!! I like creative ideas that change the plot & this has been my favourite request to write so far.

However, I did change the request slightly. I made it so that the Reader awakened to their Persona & gains the MetaNav!! I hope that’s alright with you. If not, feel free to message me again and I can rewrite it.

{ Post Writing Note: Well, I wrote way too much!! Sorry if there’s less Akechi content than you thought, I got hyperfixated on how it would affect the plot. I’d love to write a Part 2 full of angst with this, so feel free to request it!! }

- Nexus.

Dance with Justice | Goro Akechi

Life at Kosei High was predictable. Like a metronome. Constant pressure to be the best & high achievement boundaries, it was a wonder how she was ever accepted without some sort of moonlighting as a prodigy. These stories of mental shutdowns & psychotic breakdowns made the world look grim & everyone seemed desperate to escape it all.

Comfort was found in the Phantom Thieves and how they manipulated hearts. Dancing the line between immoral & illegal, it was a grey area where the who was less significant than the how. Society grasped onto them as miraculous saviours as they solved cases faster than regular forces ever could: Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro, Medjed. The world was taken by storm, these renegade rogues looking to change the world & it seemed they were no longer an urban legend.

Their downfall was unexpected, to say the least. Okumura was murdered in cold blood, his mental shutdown playing onscreen during an important meeting where he was about to reveal an important factor in solving this buck-wild case. A calling card was found at the residence, the sigil of their misdeeds. Just when the mystery was about to unravel, the threads gave way to a bigger problem: Did the Phantom Thieves cause the very shutdowns everyone was trying to escape?

Swiftly, the media capitalised. Labelling them as criminals, demanding their arrest. Everything shifted so quickly & she was caught up by the egregious claims of both sides. There was one thing for certain: The Phantoms Thieves had killed someone and regardless of their previous deeds, they needed to be brought to justice.

Naturally, the first viable suspect she found was Yusuke Kitagawa.

He was of the eccentric sort, gaining a scholarship through art. Everything the strange man did was usually for the sake of ‘ Finding true beauty! ’, which was slightly melodramatic. Before Madarame’s case, he was fixated on art singularly. Now? He seemed to have other priorities. Whenever someone would discuss the Phantom Thieves in an art lesson, there was a glimmer in his eye & the paintbrush that had been on the canvas stopped in order to listen in.

A victim of Madarame’s plagiarism, which gave a plausible motive. Despite this, nothing was concrete. She thought about her friend, Akechi. Was this how he solved crimes?

Obviously, the next step was to follow Yusuke around. Sneaking around was rather easy, all she had ever been known as by the student populace was ‘ the girl who was friends with Akechi! ’, so standing out was not much of a problem. There was not much abnormal. Despite being somewhat of a social outcast, he had a small circle of friends. Six in total.

Five of them were clearly wearing the Shujin Academy uniform on the day she spotted them. One was tall in stature with fluffy black hair & thick framed glasses. Reserved in nature but he always appeared to have some sort of witty comeback. Soon he became known as Akira.

Another one was a blonde, around the same height. He wore the uniform much like a delinquent alongside a yellow graphic tee. Obnoxiously loud, as it was never difficult to hear what he was saying even from far away. The person closest to him was Ann. She had platinum blonde hair tied back into pigtails & features of an American.

Makoto was next. Clearly more of a calculating type, she wore the uniform immaculately. Wearing her hair in a French-braid styled headband, she had maroon coloured eyes & was around average height. Most of the time, she was commenting on the boy’s behaviour.

Haru Okumura was someone recognisable due to the news about her father’s death, which was saddening. In her uniform, she wore a fluffy pink turtleneck alongside white tights with flower patterns.

Futaba was just as strange as Yusuke. She used a mixture of gamer jargon whenever she spoke and was never seen in a uniform. About middle school age, she carried around a set of headphones everywhere that regularly rested atop her maple coloured hair.

Stuffed inside of Akira’s bag was also a cat that they tried to hide. Key word: Tried. Six of them & a cat.

They frequented a local cafe in Shibuya, LeBlanc. It was a nice location & she had even gone in there once to listen in. Boss was kind, to say the least. He served coffee with a warm smile & the curry combined perfectly enough to encourage a smile out of her.

On a Friday, the cafe was busy. They had gathered at one table & chatted casually. Most of them looked forelorn. Akira eventually gestured for them to take the conversation outside, where they would disturb fewer people.

Following behind them, she paid Boss & followed, attempting to seem casual. They never noticed. Conspicuously trailing into an alleyway, Ryuji pulled out his phone. Listening in was difficult so she opted to pull out her own phone and record. One of them, presumably Akira, simply said “ Mementos. ”.

Mementos. That singular word triggered something & changed everything. As the world began to violently shift in a strange phenomena, hues of vermillion & mauve dotted her vision. It was hypnotic. Eventually, she snapped out of the trance.

Concealed by masks & flashy outfits were the suspicious group she had been following. It was blatantly obvious by their hair colours. However, the animated cat creature was a surprise. It was reminiscent of the cat Akira carried around but even stranger was that it talked. Then it turned into a bus. Which did not seem all that strange.

Inherently familiar with their environment, they sped off down the escalator, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There were so many reds & greys. Thick red veins ran through the sides in mangled forms. The wall behind her was dilapidated & the only way to proceed was the escalator in front of her.

A fatal mistake, really.

Recalling the details of the awakening are fuzzy at best. These lumbering creatures formed entirely out of shadow began to take notice of her unwanted presence. Cornered, desperate and alone. Insurmountable pain; the voice of someone almost familiar; then freedom & rebellion.

With the pact of her Persona, everything was clearer. Life had previously moved in rhetorical patterns, it was now a whimsical dance. Eliminating the so called enemies with a weapon in hand, she eventually found a way back to the surface. The door at the beginning looked to be a way out, so she threw caution to the wind & took the chance.

Fatigue came first in this dingy alleyway. Adrenaline had been fuelling the push to leave alongside her newly granted power and once that was gone, nothing would spare her from raw exhaustion. Checking her phone in the hopes of finding evidence, the video taken was still there, though it cut off as soon as anyone disappeared.

Even without evidence, she knew that this group was doing something illicit. So she texted the one person she trusted with this secret: Goro Akechi. He was a detective, surely he would have answers.

;; I must speak with you in person as soon as possible. It’s regarding the Phantom Thieves, I have some evidence for you. You’re investigating them, correct?

Knowing full well that Akechi lived a busy life, she did not expect a response for a while. After gathering the strength to stand once again, she headed home. It was the most exhausting experience ever, physically & emotionally. A few minutes after returning home, there was a response from Akechi.

I am indeed investigating them. If you have any evidence regarding them, would it not be more convenient for me to receive it via text? ;;

;; Yes, it would be, but I can barely even believe the evidence presented to me. It’s better for you to see it for yourself. Are you attending school tomorrow?

Indeed I am. Pulling away from the public eye has benefits. If you are free during lunch, we can meet on the rooftop and discuss the supposed evidence that you have found. Does that sound like a compromise? ;;

;; Alright. I’ll see you on the rooftop tomorrow.

The next day was filled with trepidation. Everyone seemed to be mulling about & with how slowly the clock was moving, it was if the school was in a state of chronostasis. Although she did not share many classes with Akechi, there had been a moment where she saw a mop of hazelnut brown hair amongst a crowd, so he was likely to be there.

Sitting on the rooftop alone was slightly boring but she understood why he was late. Every time lunch began, Akechi would be surrounded by people who wanted his attention. It must have been rather annoying.

5. 10. 15. Minutes ticked by. During the winter, it was exceptionally cold so not a single soul came up. The chilly winter breeze nipped at her skin & for a moment she wondered if it was Akechi that she had seen. The brown hair easily could have been mistaken—

The creak of the door announced his presence. With a formal apology, he recalled how his teachers were intent on swarming him with catch up work that he would inevitably never complete. Dismissing it all & moving along with the subject, Akechi got straight to the point:

“ What was it you wished to speak to me about? ”, he asked.

“ I believe I have ascertained the identities of the Phantom Thieves, ” was the only reply she gave.

Looking astounded, he shifted his glove via force of habit & looked directly at her.

“ That’s quite the bold claim, ” he returned to a neutral expression as the mask of the Detective Prince slipped back on, “ Do you have any evidence? ”.

Recalling the story to the best of her ability was tedious. From the suspicious behaviour Yusuke had been demonstrating to the video evidence taken from her phone. Throughout the entire story, he maintained a neutral expression so she was never quite sure what to think.

“ Usually, I would disregard such stories as a strange dream or a vision you had & declare your footage as edited. However, I have... also had an encounter in this strange phenomena as well. ”

Everything began to make more sense as it was explained. Akechi rattled off about the cognitive world, Palaces, Personas & even how ‘ stealing someone’s heart ’ was possible. He explained that his plan was to lend the Phantom Thieves a hand in their next assignment & catch them in the very act. Specifically, their leader.

“ That explains a lot. Let me help you. I have a Persona as well & I can fight in that other world. I want to bring the Phantom Thieves to justice. They killed Okumura & many others if they are the ones behind the mental shutdowns. Tampering with the heart of another is wrong... ”

“... Alright. I suppose it will make things easier if it is the two of us. I hope you are a very good actor,” Akechi extended a reluctant hand for her to shake. His gaze was calculated, cold. Much different from his tone of voice. However, she took his hand & shook it.

With that, a contract was signed. Both herself & the detective would bring about the end of the Phantom Thieves.

Word Count: 1.9k

Publish Date: 27.09.20

#{ crow }#{ you don’t know how much i loved this request }#{ specific requests are always the best ones because you know they care }#{ turns out i’m actually an akechi stan in disguise }#{ i hand out akechi content like i hand out drugs }#goro akechi #akechi x reader #persona 5 royal #persona 5 royal x reader #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 imagines

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Vigor the Visionary

This is one of the better episodes of season two, but it still manages to have some major flaws. Flaws, that not everyone can get past, and for good reason. So let's dig in.

Summary: Rapunzel and Eugene are on a romantic date together until they come across a fortune-teller, Madame Canardist who presents them her pet monkey, Vigor the Visionary who can make psychic predictions. While Eugene refuses to believe fortune-tellers to be real, he and Rapunzel soon find themselves helping Madame Canardist when Vigor is stolen. Eugene discovers the thieves to be Angry and Red, who revealed they "borrowed" Vigor as Angry believes he can help her find her long lost family. Eugene and Rapunzel agree to help, despite Eugene's concerns and doubts. Vigor begins to lead the group and soon Angry is apparently reunited with her family who also welcome Red. However, Eugene and Rapunzel learn the couple are not Angry's real family and are actually two thieves in hiding.

Why Hello There, Offensive Stereotype

Let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way first.

Madame Canardist and Vigor were a dropped concept from the original film. You can even see art work of them in the end credits of the movie. The series’ crew thought it would be clever to put them into the show and make them plot important.

The problem?

Madame Canardist is a caricature of the Roma people, based off of centuries long stereotypes that are harmful to said people even to this day.

Now if you live in the US you may not be aware of the discrimination that the Roma face. They live mostly in Europe and Central/South America. That’s not to say that don’t live in the US too, just that they aren’t a significant minority here. As such, many people, including the crew, are just simply ignorant of the situation. I, myself didn’t even know that the word ‘gypsy’ was considered a slur until very recently and only because I’ve managed to talk to people from around the world through the internet.

I am not Romani, and can’t and won’t speak for those that are, but many people were upset with this character’s inclusion in the show and subsequent portrayal. As they have every right to be. The crew probably didn’t mean to be hurtful, but nevertheless perpetuating negative stereotypes can have real world consequences and effects.

I’ll talk more about that impact and the crew’s response when we see the character again later in the season. However, this mistake alone is enough to turn people right off of the episode and I can’t blame them for it.

This is Only One of Three Episodes That Ties Back Into Season One

The reason why I say this is one of the better episodes of the season is because it manages to pick back up a plot thread from season one while also laying down groundwork for future plot points. In short, it’s one of the few episodes in season two that isn’t filler.

However, that’s also the problem. Season two feels so disconnected from everything; both from the previous season and from the following season. You really can skip most of the episodes in it and not miss anything. That’s bad writing.

We needed more call backs to season one. More follow ups on Corona and the other established characters in order to make all of that world building in the first season not feel like a waste. We also needed more returns of the season two characters and locations in order for all the worldbuilding here not to feel like a waste either.

So Did Raps and Eugene Not Think to Vet These Strangers at All Before Leaving Two Children With Them?

So yeah these two people are fakes and the real thieves, but even if on the off chance that they were Angry’s real parents, why would you just leave these two girls with them? Birth parents doesn’t mean ‘good parents’. You don’t know why Angry was orphaned to begin with. Shouldn’t you be asking like questions and sticking around for a day or so to make sure everything will be alright before you leave?

Maybe?... no?

Well ok then... Sure is lucky that Angry and Red know self defense because you two are morons.

Also really convenient that one of the thieves so happened to be the same race as Angry, when we haven’t seen that many asian people in the show besides her and Adria. You literally just took one look at another north asian woman and automatically assumed she was related to the other north asian kid. Okay.

Also this is what, the fourth time we’ve shown a WOC character as untrustworthy and sneaky?

Once again, I’m not accusing the crew of being intentionally racist, but they certainly didn’t think things all the way through and it shows.

Why Are We Letting Two Children Go Off Into the Woods Alone With No Home to Return Too?

I gave it a sort of pass in Big Brothers of Corona, because its implied that they ran away and would have done so no matter what Eugene and Lance did, and were long gone before either could stop them, but here there’s no excuse.

They take off and Eugene and Raps just don't even bother to look for them. They just shrug their shoulders and leave and act like this is 100% okay.

Yes, lets ignore the two orphans that are clearly still nearby and were looking for a home just now to go back to our date.

Neglect is a central theme of the show. All of our main characters suffered from childhood neglect in some way shape or form, along with three major villains (two which are the mains), and it's always portrayed as having negatively affected them. Even here, Angry suffers from feeling abandoned by her birth parents.

Yet here we have two of those main characters, both of whom have been through what Angry and Red have been through, now perpetuating that abuse and neglecting two children. And to make matters worse, this isn’t the first time Rapunzel has been shown neglecting a child. It was kind of the main conflict of season one.

Why on earth would either of these two characters think this is okay, and more importantly why would the writers think so. Because this only undermines all of their previously brought up points and their later reasonings of certain characters.

Eugene and Rapunzel are responsible for Angry and Red in this instance. Even if they couldn’t have brought them along, than they needed to make sure that arrangements were made elsewhere to keep them safe. Send Hookfoot , Shorty, or Lance back to Corona with them, put them in an orphanage in a town nearby, or yes, even bring them along on the trip, because clearly they’re allowed to do dangerous shit anyways according to season 3. Even have them actually run away during the middle of the night and have the mains not able to find them again and need to move on cause of a ticking clock. Just something to show that our protagonists aren’t a couple of dicks.

Conclusion

Like I said, it’s at least not filler, and there’s some good scenes here and there, but there’s a major failing in the central themes and presentation of ideas that the episode was going for that let it down.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #angry #red #eugene #rapunzel

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volkswagonblues · 4 years

Note

Ooooh yes, Yue/Suki! Honestly, any of the girls paired up is fun and not something I feel like we see a lot, beyond maybe MaiLee.

[from my ATLA rarepair game. “drop me a rare pairing and i’ll either write a little drabble for you, or tell you what 80k epic I’d plot out if I have time ] @gatesofivoryandhorn

YUE/SUKI, an encounter on the rooftop postcanon

On the rooftop of the little house that she called her own in the Fire Nation capital, it was cooler than it was inside the stuffy room, but still Suki felt restless. Even at night, Caldera was a hundred time hotter and humid then anything she had experienced back home on Kyoshi. But tonight wasn’t so bad: there was a crisp breeze coming from the sea, and above her head, the moon was bright like a silver salver.

Suki looked at the glowing spirit next to her. “What’s it like being a spirit?” she asked Yue. She’d never talked to a spirit before; she was curious.

“It’s like–” Yue hesitated. “Everything that the moonlight touches, I’m there too. I shine the same above palaces and hovels, the evil man and the just. I’m with the night animals on their hunt, just the same as I’m with the murderers and the thieves, the sleeping child in her bed, the lonely widower reminiscing about what’s past. I hear the moaning song of the aurora, just like I hear the delicate drop of dew as it collects on a spider’s web. It’s all the same to me. I’m part of the same energy that rolls over everything.”

“Oh,” Suki said. “Oh.”

“So that’s why,” Yue said. “I don’t want to see my poor mother or father. I don’t want to see Sokka. I want them to remember me as I was. I want Yue the girl to be alive a little while longer yet.”

Suki examined her: no one would mistake the glowing apparition beside her as human, but there was a small, sad expression on Yue’s face, and no matter how translucent and glowing the face itself was, it seemed to Suki at that moment to be – very human.

“It sounds terrible,” she said softly. “But it also sounds wonderful.”

Yue drifted closer, folding her legs underneath her. It could almost be called sitting, except there was still an inch of space between her and the ground. “Not as wonderful as it was to be truly alive. I wish I still had a body.”

“What does that mean? You don’t have a body?”

“Maybe,” Yue said. “I’m a special case; I don’t think there are words to describe what I am. I’m not totally a spirit, but I’m not totally human either. I’m a human without her body, I guess you could say. I miss it. I miss eating and drinking and sleeping when I’m tired. I miss a lot of things I took for granted. I miss feeling.”

Suki twisted her hands together. She had never thought about the distinction between her body and her soul before; if pressed, she would have said that, of course, she was her body; her body was herself. What else would she be?

“Whatever you are,” she said to Yue, “how good are you at opening jars?”

She showed Yue the jar of herbal balm she brought with her. It was a special blend from Kyoshi: an ointment to relieve sore muscles and bring down bruising. Suki had been going through them at an incredible pace since she’d came to Caldera as Zuko’ bodyguard. For instance, today: she had taken a nasty hit from a would-be assassin’s left hook. The adrenaline had kept her going long enough to knock him down and disarm him, but now her arm ached with a dull throb that promised a splendid bruise in Suki’s future.

“I can do better than that,” Yue said.

She lifted a hand, and a stream of water flew up from the stone fountain underneath them in the courtyard. The water swirled in mid-air, then took on the bluish glow that Suki recognized from watching waterbending healers. Yue flicked her wrist, and the swirl of water settled over Suki’s arm

“You can bend?” she blurted out.

“I’m the source of waterbending,” Yue said. “What do you think?”

Being healed by the Moon Spirit was different from any other experience with a healer that Suki had had before. The moment the water touched her skin, the pain flowed away like a leaf carried off by the river, leaving no trace of its presence. The yellowish splotch – it had already started turning purple around the edges – faded away cleanly, and between one heartbeat and the next, Suki was staring down at her unblemished arm, smooth and perfect. She flexed it; even the muscles underneath felt better in some way, like knots that she never even noticed had been worked out somehow.

“It feels amazing!” she laughed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Some impulse made Suki lean in. For a moment she wasn’t sure if she would even make contact, or if her touch would simply pass through Yue like a hand through moonbeams. But when her lips met Yue’s cheek, it landed. She pressed a kiss there, above one slanting cheekbone, and her lips tingled.

Yue didn’t feel alive, and Suki could tell the difference the same way that she could tell an apple from a rock, a swaddled infant from a cord of wood. There was none of life’s warm vibrancy that Suki could sense, but when she drew back, Yue lowered her head and ducked away. Spirits don’t flustered, but from the tilt of Yue’s head and the shy cross her arms, Suki got the sense that she would, if only she could.

“Did you feel that?” she asked.

Yue’s eyes flickered up. Their gazes met, briefly.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, in a way. I can sense human thoughts and emotions. Those affect spirits too.”

Suki smiled. She grabbed Yue’s hand – it was as cold and smooth as her cheek – and thought about all the sensations that made her life what it was: the smell of sweet beeswax from her face paint. The gratifying strain of her muscles as she perfected a new move, and then the surprised faces of her attackers when they’re disarmed by a girl holding a fan. The exact weight of her sword against her hip. The slippery feeling of her silk robe against her bare skin. How good it feels to have a breeze come through the window on a muggy night. How delicious it was to eat a fresh fish, or a ripe persimmon, or a plate of steamed rice cakes with honey. How marvellous it was to be alive.

Yue’s eyes were closed, and Suki could see her eyelids flicker as if she was a normal girl in her bed, deep asleep and dreaming. Do spirits have eyelids? Do they dream?

“Can you feel that?” she asked.

“Yes,” Yue said again.”Yes, I can.

“Then you’re still a girl,” Suki said decisively. “You’re the Moon Spirit, but you’re still a girl.”

She drew Yue’s hand up to her mouth, pressed her lips to the knuckles in another kiss, and received a smile that was brighter than silver, worth more than gold.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #my fic #i picture the 80k epic to be just a really slow and thoughtful romance where suki keeps meeting her moon girlfriend on rooftops at night #and how she misses her when it's the new moon #all this building up to the inevitable exchange between suki and zuko #Suki: yeah my current girlfriend is the moon #zuko:??? that's....great buddy

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imtryingthisout · 4 years

Text

Of Flames and Fire: Prologue

[If you hate me for writing this, just remember I hate myself more and that this began because of a joke.]

Warnings: Ask to Tag

Word Count: 3627

Fandom: Disney Descendants

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Dirt clung to the fringes of Maleficent’s robes as she descended deeper into the cavernous warren. Once upon a time her presence would have struck such fear that not even the dust mites would have dared come near her, but such a time was over now, and now the endings of her black cloak grew more and more soiled with every step she took.

She held a twisted candelabra in one hand and her faithful staff in the other. The small flame burned a deep rouge color, more red than yellow, with how thick and low the air had become. Maleficent was surprised it still burned at all. She was thankful for the candle’s valiant effort. Gone were the days where she could summon a ball of hellfire to illuminate the room, and with all the dust and filth in the air she wasn't sure her darkvision would be of any use.

A drop of hot wax struck her fingers.

Maleficent continued onwards.

As she ventured closer and closer to her destination, the sound of barking began to ring in her ears. Viscous growls, the sound of teeth hitting teeth, shrieks and yelps and oh so much barking. Were she a lesser soul it might have frightened her, or at the very least given her a pause, but she knew that no dog (three headed or otherwise) lived down here, just a lonely master trying to cope with the sound of silence.

(Out of everything her new prison tormented her with, Maleficent never thought she would grow to loathe the quiet. The silence. Even on the Forbidden Mountain she would hear the rustling of wind, the roaring cacophony of her minion’s delight, the sound of Diablo’s deep cawing. But here, even with the tumult of the budding city of thieves and villains, her thoughts screamed louder than any noise. Here she felt more alone than she ever did atop her ruined castle.)

No door was mounted to the cave’s wall, it would be far too impractical to do so, so Maleficent raised a curved fist and knocked thrice on a wooden post instead. “Who is it?” a voice called out from lower in the room, it sounded irritated and gruff, good. Maleficent smiled “Just a passing visitor Lord Hades”.

Quicker than she thought possible, the exiled Monarch of the Underworld stood leaning against the doorframe, one arm draped over the rotten wood and his head tilted with a school boy smile (if a school boy had eyes of glowing brimstone and thorny rows of sharp teeth protruding from his gums). “Why Miss Maleficent, what brings you to my little.. home away from home?”

She took a moment to drink in his sight, he looked more or less the same as he did when they first met, a little more tired, maybe, a little less put together, thick silver-colored cuffs bound round his wrists to drain his godly might. Still something about him seemed different, she couldn't quite place her finger on it, then she met his gaze. “Kohl around the eyes, Lord Hades? I do hope you aren't going Egyptain on me”

He snorted and rolled his- yes, black lined- eyes “Nah those guys are great, but they sure as Me don’t need another Death God. Besides- Blue Hair? Blue Skin? It’s already confusing enough for mortals to get us mixed up at parties, and don't even get me started on the Ptolemaic Pantheon menagerie, cultural syncretism is fun and all but all that rewriting and re-rewriting and who’s who even got my head more turned around than the gordian knot!”

Here Hades stood taller than Maleficent, even with his slumped posture and hunched back. The slope of the floor was curved in his favor. Her horns were a brandished crown growing, twisting, above her head and barely scraping the stone above her.

She let the humor linger in the air for a breath before speaking. “I have a proposition for you, my lord” she said while dismissing the candle and setting it down on a rock ledge. The light from Hades’ hair and lair would suffice to brighten her vision. Maleficent raised a free arm “Shall we continue our conversation inside? I feel it would be awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” Hades’ smile grew wider, almost splitting his face in two.

“My dearest disgrace to all things dignified, it would be my pleasure” He said, taking her arm and leading her inside. Despite herself she snorted. “My lord I am always dignified, it is deferential which I am not”

Hades’s new domain lay deep underground in the heart of the Isle. Despite his many years of hatred of being saddled with the burden of the Underworld, the room appeared very similar to his old home. ‘Perhaps that is the point’, Maleficent thought, wondering if his new dwelling was really of Hades’ choosing, or did he simply wake up on the Isle in a room modeled after his old kingdom, swapping an old prison for a new one. She wasn’t sure if Zeus had it in him...but Zeus wasn't the only one hurt by Hades’ failed machinations, and she knew that Hera certainitly did, fondness for her older brother or not- the Queen of Gods would not have hesitated to rub salt in any wounds of her child’s stealer. Especially when such irony would have been involved.

In another life, perhaps it would have been Hera who Maleficent would be conversing with, she did always have a healthy respect for the Golden Throned Goddess,like draws to like afterall, and there is nothing more similar yet individual than women with power.

Then again, in another life she wouldn't need to bargain, in another life she would have crushed Prince Phillip’s sword between her teeth and swallowed him whole, in another life she would have blessed the infant Princess with a gift of her own, something clever and far more powerful than any of the Three Sisters trivial delights. In another life---

Hades leads her to a sitting area, long tatham benches set interlocking with one another, made of dark ebony wood. Maleficent gathers the excess of her robe in her grip and takes a seat, then slowly lets the fabric flow down and unfurl on the clean gray floor. The Lord of the Dead seats himself next to her, and after a moment’s pause, she allows him to wrap one of his hands around her waist.

“I have come to reclaim my debt, Your Majesty” she begins, he laughs and jokes “I’m not a accountant dollface, you’ll have to be more specific. I think I still got some styx-water sloshing around in my skull” but she can see the tightness around his eyes, the stiffness in his fingers as he cleans his ear and flicks a droplet of water over his shoulder, he knows exactly what she is referring to. He also knows that his newfound lack of power might have put him in a very precarious situation. Maleficent smiles sharply.

The grip on her waist tightens.

“Then let me help to restart your memory, years ago you needed an elixir that would turn anything, even a God, mortal. I concocted such a potion on the clause that you would… how did you say it? ‘Owe me one bigtime mama '’” she said drolling her words and making air quotations with her slender fingers. The God of The Dead had the decency to look sheepish, a bright blue blush blooming under his siltstone skin. “Okay yeah might’ve been a bit drunk on success when I said that…”

“Mmhmm” Maleficent hummed, raising a single eyebrow.

“....sorry”

“In any case, a deal is a deal, and now I see to collect my end of our bargain”

“It would be my pleasure my lovely lady of labilzation--” “that one was better” “Thank you I do try, --- however I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that, unlike before, I no longer have the Underworld and all its resources at my disposal to grant your dark heart’s deepest desire-- “Lord Hades are you implying I ever had a heart to begin with?” “ Ha ha no. But you do have desires that our current predicament might limit me from fulfilling”

“And you do hate to leave your women unfulfilled, don’t you Hades?”

“Yes I- HEY” Hades began with his usual smooth inflection, not even really looking at her, before cutting himself on and standing up in outrage. Face pinched and flushed. He started pacing back and forth in front of her while Maleficent looked on in cruel delight. He was yammering about something, going on about respect and proper dues and getting wonderfully worked up about himself. It almost made her nostalgic.

“I mean I know I’m no roving casanova like dear little Zeus-y, Persphone would gut me for even trying that and--”

Then his body stilled and he turned to face her, running his hands through his hair to gather his thoughts. Pity, she was enjoying she show. “Alright I get it, playtimes over. What do you want Maleficent? What under this damned barrier could be so important that you need to cash in on?”

“You and I both know Lord Hades that there are forces far older and far more powerful than this Godmother’s little trick. Deals, oaths, dept, magic sworn by magic will be repaid in turn. ” Maleficent raised herself slowly, taking small measured steps to where Hades stood shadowed by the cavern’s light. “As for what I want? That's simple, I want your name”

Name, she hissed out the word, the word that had churned and boiled somewhere deeper than her stomach and rose up her throat, that fell down her tongue and turned sharp and low against her teeth. The word that made her eyes flash with a power that no well intentioned Godmother or once cursed King could contain.

The word that made the Lord of the Dead, Hades himself, fall stumbling backwards to his knees. The shadow wrenched away from him in haste, revealing his wide eyes and- oh how she missed this- positively wreaked expression. If she was someone else she would say he was nervous, his face too numb to be fearful, but Maleficent knew better. He was terrified.

Pleas spilt from his lips like ambrosia in a clumsy hand. He was almost begging her now, with more fervor than he ever begged before--

( In times of old when the earth was freshly taken and the sky still red with titan’s blood, three brothers gathered to divide the cosmos between themselves. The youngest made his claim to the sky and took it’s child, the mighty thunderbolt, as his symbol. He gifted the sea to the middle brother who accepted it glady, but to the oldest he gave no pearl-rich land or magnificent heaven, but the burden of the damned and dead. The darkest corners of the world, where no light reached and the wild souls wandered aimlessly in the eternal darkness. His older brother objected, of course, and perhaps he even set aside his pride to grovel, but the youngest was unyielding. )

“Please Mali, don’t, not that I’ll do anything--”

( Once Ra fell sick from a clay snake bite, and called a council of every man and women and God to come and aid him, but they could do nothing. Then he called for Isis, for surely she would have the answers to his prayers. “What ever you need, I will provide” And so Isis said to the sun god Ra, ‘Great king of The Heavens and all we hold dear, the venom in your blood is much too strong, the only way I can heal you is with the knowledge of your Name’. So Ra listed off all of his titles and epithets, of which he had many, but Isis was not deterred. ‘My Lord and King, though those names are as grand and great as you are, they are not the one of which I refer to. If you wish to continue as yourself, ruler of the Gods, I will need your Rem to cure you’ said Isis and Ra knew she spoke the truth. Banishing the other medicine men and healers from the room he took Isis into his wings and bared to her the fifth of his soul, the name in which all his power sprang from. Isis took the name and healed Ra, feeling the universe realign with her at its helm, Goddess above Gods, of life and moon and medicine and magic. The fruits of her cunning rewarded hundredfold. And she smiled.)

“-- you don't want that old thing, I mean, what would you even do with my name anyway? It’s not like it would be of any use to you here”

“That, Your Majesty, is where you are wrong.” Maleficent slammed the end of her staff on top of the end of Hades’ robe, catching him in place as he tried to flinch backwards. She knelt before him, his back arched so completely he resembled more of a semicircle than a fallen God, his body so small here compared to hers. The long tendrils of her cloak sprawled themselves across the floor, their edges slithering like snakes, writhing and engulfing them, Hades was a cold star trapped amidst a sea of dark fabric.

“You asked me what could be so important to me that I would risk claiming my due of our agreement here, under this hell forsaken barrier. Why would I step into the limelight after years of isolation to rule an island of filth and trash” she pressed a single nail to his face tilting it up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Because here is where my child will be born, and no blood of mine will be powerless while I still live to conquer and provide”

Her child, who was barely an weight in her arms, hungry for magic where there was none, hungry for food unrotten and drink unspoiled. If Maleficent was kinder she would crush it’s skull beneath her feet and spare it from a life full of pain and longing. Years of torment and clawing at it’s own skin spared in a moment’s decision.

(Her child, who could one day release their Mother from her prison, if they had will to do so.)

Maleficent had never been a kind person.

She did, however, on the seldom occlusion, know mercy and how to manipulate the unwilling. She could just rip his name from his chest, leave him broken and shivering on the cold stone floor. The thought was tempting, it really had been too long since she last had the chance to destroy someone so thoroughly, but she knew it would be better in the long run if she could get Hades to cooperate. Never let it be said she wasn’t a patient Mistress.

Leaning her weight forward she gingerly took one of Hades’ wrists in her hand, turning it over and carefully inspecting the thick band that now encircled it . This close she could feel the way it softly vibrated under her touch, the binding sigils carved so delicately and deep into the metal.

Her skin burned on contact, but you would never tell by her expression, eyes trained on the way Hades’ life force flowed. Faint traces of his magic traveling down his veins and funneling into the band, which would pulse slightly and constrict, the sigils would glow and hold, before loosening its too tight grip on its host. Then the cycle would continue anew.

It was one of the most brilliantly constructed and horrid devices Maleficent had ever laid her eyes on.

It was a work of art.

And as she read the runes she began to recognize what artist could have made such a beautiful thing.

“Do you know just how luck you are Lord Hades? While the rest of us villains must serve a penance that will span the rest of our days, you sit here with shackles holding only until you meet their requirements. I always wondered why Auradon would risk the order of the world just to fulfill their pallid sense of morality, and here my questions are answered. It seems the true nature of your punishment is far more poetic than a measly imprisonment, no, the true keys to your freedom lay in siring a child,”

A cold sense of realization dawned on Hades, “Hera” he whispered.

“How does the saying go again? An eye for an eye.” Maleficent pushed her nail deeper into the skin of his arm “A lost babe for a lost babe.”

Something inside Hades’ eyes broke at her words, and he begun laughing, freely, manic not maniacal, the laugh of a man who knew the entire cosmos was a joke and now he finally got the punchline. “Oh Hera!” He cried out, gathering the shattered pieces of himself and pulling them together.

He stood up from underneath her, fluid as smoke escaping from her grasp, as if his body was still atmos and ichor- not confined to rigid flesh and blood. ( A distant part of Maleficent imagines Hades, stumbling and impaling his head against a stalagmite as he has to relearn how to walk again, learn how to live in a body so forign yet familiar.) He did not offer to help her, and she made no move to rise, instead she remained sitting, her back ramrod straight and hands folded across her staff which rested on her lap.

Over the sounds of running water and the everpresent barking, Maleficent could hear the sounds of his brain work. Spinning gears within gears furiously trying to take in the new information and generate a more beneficial outcome for himself. “Alright, you want my name, you want power, you want little Maleficent Junior to grow up with magic, which I can’t blame you for. I want to get out of here and I want my wife not to kill me on my arrival, so I propose a solution that just might work for us both”

“Go on”

“ gift part of my name to the little tyke, giving them- and by extension you- power that not even this blasted barrier can suppress. That means that in the eyes of magic, I’m basically your baby’s daddy”

“And are you willing to uphold that responsibility? I have no need for a husband nor a housekeeper, but both dragons and fae are known for their possessiveness and of them I am both”

Hades didn't miss a blink, shark toothed smiled fixed back in place on his face “My magnificent Mistress of Misery from now until my chains are unfettered and I am called away to return to my Iron throne, I do swear to treat your little demonspawn as if they were born from the rotten fruit of my loins. Now, do we have an agreement?” Now he looked down at her, hand extended for her to shake. “Going once… going twice..”

Maleficent leapt forward, her hand digging deep into the weak flesh of his arm, she used to movementum to pull herself close to him, nose to nose, sharpened teeth to sharpened teeth, her horns haloing her head- two blackened crests protruding from her skull that reflected the dull blue light of the room. “Its a deal” she declared. Smiling viscously as she felt her eyes flare, not gold, but green, green as burning hellflame, fire in its purest form.

If this were anywhere else but The Isle of The Lost, thunder would crack at their declaration, a ring of light would maifest around their grip sealing their oath in color and magic. The air would ignite at their words. However, this was The Isle, and so the only illumination of fate’s rearrangement came from the flicker of light on Hades’ wrists as the runes surged, the taste of copper under Maleficent’s tongue, and the deep bone-seated feeling that something big will come. This was the stone whose ripple will cause the wave years down the line.

Maleficent hoped it would rise and drown the whole world.

She almost smiled at the thought.

---------------------------------------

“Huh”

“What?”

“You know when you said you had a baby, I kinda pictured- you know- a baby”

“I do hope you aren't talking bad about our child, it hasn't even hatched yet”

“Maleficent thats not a child, thats an egg”

“You think I would birth a infant mammal? Don’t be so crude, egg laying is a much more civilized method of reproduction”

“Wait does that make you a reptile? Oh sweet Zeus don’t tell me you are? What can you unhinge your jaw? Do you have a hemi--”

“Silence your tongue Lord Hades before I cut it out myself”

“Sorry sweetcheeks I couldn't resist”

“....”

“...sorry”

“Now traditionally Mother and Daughter would pass on a portion of their name until the time came where the Daughter earned to full title of Maleficent, usually by slaying their Mother and taking her name for herself. Until that day a middle name would serve as a placeholder to help differentiate them, a Mal Bertha or Mal Lamia or something of the sort. If you are giving up one of your titles, perhaps Mal Aidoneus would suffice?”

“Yeah, no”

“No?”

“Listen, Fairy G’s little parasite pocket is going to hone in on quote the name of the “The Mistress of All Evil” like a cyclopes at a half-off everything sunglass sale. You want this kid to have even a smidgen of a chance we gotta change it up a bit.”

“Well then Your Majesty I don’t suppose you have any better Ideas”

“........Malenthea”

“Hm?”

“Her name, it will be Malenthea”

“Then so mote it be”

“....”

“HOLY RHEA YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE EGG WOULD EXPLODE--”

#disney descendants #descendants #fic #writing #my writing #maleficent #hades #Disney Hades #OC: Malenthea #Of Flame and Fire Au #descendants rewrite #descendants fic #Mal Bertha #mal descendants #fae Mal #dragon mal

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